Brave, and why gender matters
- Janet Wi
- Jul 22, 2020
- 3 min read
Updated: Jul 29, 2020

When writing a story focusing on any marginalized group, their identity as a marginalized group is often written as a major point of character development. Why? Because the very effect of their disadvantage in society is a hurdle that colors their day to day. Many times, overcoming these disadvantages becomes part of their journey to find their own voice in a society that has no interest in helping them.
So, when a director decides that a film centered on a conflict between mother and daughter is, in fact, not about gender, he is doing the audience a great disservice by robbing them of a rich story where two very different women, with two very different views of what duties a princess should have, find a way to understand each other and mend their broken bond.
Instead, what he gives the audience is a bumbling side tale of a mother being turned into a bear, immediately after one of the most powerful scenes in the whole movie.
Let's back up here. Brave follows the story of Merida, princess of an unnamed Scottish kingdom. Merida is young and free-spirited. She resents her mother's attempts to stifle her adventurous nature through stuffy princess lessons that reflect her mother's interests far more than they reflect hers. Their relationship comes to a head when Queen Elinor attempts to give Merida's hand in marriage to one of three young lords of neighboring clans, who, to be fair, are all bumbling idiots.
Angered by her mother's refusal to listen to her wants and needs, Merida cuts the tapestry symbolizing their family's connection. In response, Elinor does the unforgiveable—she burns Merida's bow.

The heat of the moment here is palpable. Both women have a different view of femininity and how it fits into a patriarchal society where they both have expectations to lead. Elinor wants Merida to lead through diplomacy and soft power. Although Merida is perhaps more traditionally boyish than her mother, she does not reject her femininity. In fact, she embraces it. She comfortably wears dresses while adventuring, and she lets her long, curly hair flow free.
Never once does any man in the film question either one of their womanhoods. No, this challenge comes from the women themselves.
The central tension from the first act of the film is centered around this battle of differing views of what it means to be a woman in their society. When you stray from this central tension, the audience never receives a satisfying solution of the two characters reaching a true understanding. When you, as a director, decide the best thing to do is literally strip one of the main character's voices by magically turning her into a bear, you break down the chance these two characters even have at learning from one another.
Then, the film devolves into classic, canned family-friendly fun as the two romp around the forest trying to find a way to undo the spell before it's too late and Elinor stays a bear forever. The ending is hackneyed and predictable, and the story beats don't feel earned.
It makes the film feel hollow.
It's a shame that the first full-length Pixar film featuring a female protagonist falls short by writing gender out of her storyline. Being female is part of both Merida's and Elinor's daily reality. Imagine how much more powerful the film could have been by teaching young people that there is no correct way to act your gender role. Just as Elinor is a woman by weaving tapestries, using table manners, and acting with poise and diplomacy, Merida too is a woman by running with her hair flowing free, shooting her bows and arrows, and asserting her autonomy to choose who she loves.
Gender matters in story. Sexuality matters in story. Race matters in story.
We can't write them out, because we want a story to feel more "universal." That, in effect, is whitewashing and genderwashing and heterowashing the realities of the characters in the story. Universality is inherently part of a well-written story that speaks to humanity. People will engage with stories that speak to truth. And that is what really matters.
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