Balancing Act By Shiva Kansagara Cover illustration by Emelie Thomas
When I first watched Hidden Figures, as a young girl of color and an aspiring computer scientist, I remembered feeling empowered that women–who were not white–could occupy room in an industry dominated by white men. However, after reading the article, “I Don’t Want to Be the Strong Female Lead,” written by Brit Marling and published in 2020, I can recognize parts of the “strong female lead” trope that was utilized in order to portray the film adaptation of Hidden Figures. Marling, a white, female actress, claims that the female lead has been characterized to be either an incapable, feminine woman or a strong, masculine woman. She asserts that patriarchal power has indoctrinated men to believe that women are objects whose only purpose is to be exploited then discarded, regardless of whether they are weak and feminine, or indestructible and masculine. Marling preaches truth when stating that roles written for women taint feminine force, yet her argument falls short when addressing the intersectionality of playing the “strong female lead.”
Femininity and racism in tandem are consistent themes that films starring women of color repeatedly explore. Hidden Figures (2016) is a film that tracks the story of Black women who work at NASA as mathematicians in the 1960s, all based on true events. Female protagonists Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan, and Mary Jackson work as “human computers” in the West Area Computing Unit, among the many other Black women in that computing group. Of the three female protagonists, I will primarily focus on Katherine’s storyline. Upon reassignment, Katherine, an expert in analytical geometry, is sent to work with the Space Task Group, where she is the only Black person and the only female mathematician in that group; everyone else in the room is a white male. When she first walks in, she receives disbelieving head turns from everyone in the room, including the white female secretary. Not only must Katherine fight the microaggression of being a woman, but at the same time, navigate a world of segregation and racism; the difficulties of being this “strong female lead” are intersectional.
Brit Marling’s main claim in her article is that the “strong female lead” character is killed off either within the first act of the story or killed off at the end of the story because it is “challenging for a writer to imagine a world in which such free women can exist without brutal consequences” (4). There is no room for “us to imagine femininity itself–empathy, vulnerability, listening–as strong” (6). Although the female protagonists are not faced with any physical violence at the end of the Hidden Figures story, there is a great deal of emotional violence, or abuse, they must endure throughout the film. Researching the differences between Katherine’s true story and the way she is portrayed in Hidden Figures led me to a 2011 interview with Katherine entitled “What Matters - Katherine Johnson: NASA Pioneer and ‘Computer’” by WHRO Public Media. Katherine declares that she “didn’t feel the segregation at NASA because everybody there was doing research. You had a mission and you worked on it…I knew [the segregation] was there but it did not affect me…” (11:20-11:47). Nonetheless, white director Theodore Melfi and white co-writer Alison Schroeder made a conscious decision to exaggerate the emotional strain related to racism on the female protagonist, supporting Marling’s argument that it is easier to write a film when women cannot be free (4). Considering that this narrative is only based on true events, the audience does not truly know whether the real story is more or less dramatic than the film. For that reason, it is unfair to condemn the film for playing into such a trope.
However, certain scenes that are meant to portray Katherine as an empowered and strong woman, suffer from the possibility of acting too empowering and too strong. Katherine is forced to walk about a half a mile in order to use the nearest colored ladies’ restroom. When accosted about her extended absences by her boss, Katherine–understandably–responds defensively, proclaiming “I work day and night, like a dog. Living off of coffee from a pot none of you wanna touch! So excuse me if I have to go to the restroom a few times a day” (1:02:17-1:02:47). Scenes such as this confrontation can potentially play into the “angry Black woman” trope. The “angry Black woman” trope refers to the double standard that Black women face in the workplace. For example, if she asserts herself, she is seen as angry and aggressive, but if she remains quiet, she is seen as incompetent (Carbado and Gulati 54). Failing to draw the line between the “strong female lead” and the “angry Black woman” could result in characterizing Katherine as someone she is not.
When explaining the “strong female lead” trope in her own words, Brit Marling does not address the intersectionality of female film roles. Intersectionality considers the overlapping of two or more identities that are oppressive toward that person. Gender, race, sexuality, and religion are a few examples of these identities. Marling’s remarks are valid and she makes points suggesting that a redefined “strong” woman lead could be one who is not deterred by her ability to listen and show empathy, while still embodying the power to resist (7). Despite this, most of the films Marling utilizes to exemplify this trope feature female protagonists who are white, which is when I realized that most stories that have a “strong female lead” are primarily intended to be played by white women. The strong female lead that is offered to Black women and women of color only focus their experiences on the topic of racism and sexism combined. While entirely inspiring, these struggles do not define women of color and are not the only stories worth telling.
Furthermore, Marling fails to recognize that many women of color do not have the option to refuse to play the “strong female lead” in the same way she does: as a result of having to audition for demoralizing roles, Marling “decided [she] was done auditioning” (2). Roles meant to be played by women of color come few and far between roles meant to be played by white women. This is because blockbuster cinema mainly writes scripts for women of color who exist in a light where their counterpart is white. With roles that primarily typecast and stereotype, such as the “angry Black women” trope, or roles that require someone to act out traumatic oppressive historical events, it is difficult for actresses to accept such parts; however, with fewer opportunities to secure a job, women of color are forced to assume the position as they are uncertain when the next “big break” might present itself.
Although Hidden Figures risks falling into the trap of playing into multiple tropes at times, the film ultimately finds balance in its characters. To this day, it continues to be an inspiring and empowering narrative for women (and non-women). While I critique Marling for excluding women of color, seemingly unintentionally, I critique Hollywood even further for favoring white actors. These true and historical stories are important, yet repetitive. It is inevitable that the Black female, or woman of color, lead will face different treatment in the industry and consistently must play a more oppressed character than the white female lead. Now is the time to break the mold and create action, psychological, and heartfelt films (to name a few) starring actors of color. Regardless, I can only hope that women of color receive the same platform that Marling was privileged to, in order to tell more authentic and cultural stories.
Works Cited
Carbado, Devon W., and Mitu Gulati. Acting White?: Rethinking Race in Post-Racial America.
Oxford University Press, 19 Feb. 2013.
Hidden Figures. Directed by Theodore Melfi, performance by Taraji P. Henson, Twentieth
Century Fox, 2016.
Marling, Brit. “I Don’t Want to Be the Strong Female Lead.” The New York Times, The New
