Enter Rey: The Mary Sue and Genre Expectations

In the previous review, Finn found himself marooned on a desert planet and had gone in search of a town. Now, clearly, he finds a town; otherwise, the movie would be over, and, in this town, he meets Rey, who is far and away the most controversial character in the franchise. Much has been said about her, but I intend to look at Rey from a writing perspective, using the criterion I described in the first article of this series.

To keep immersion/suspension of disbelief, the writer tends to utilize a combination of rules, promises, and payoffs so the audience can understand the stakes. The moment an audience member begins asking undesired questions, the writer risks throwing that audience member out of immersion. This is very applicable to Rey, but to understand why, I must first address the Mary Sue issue.

A Mary Sue is basically an overpowered character who is inexplicably admired by most, if not all, the cast. A female is referred to colloquially as a Mary Sue, and a male is sometimes referred to as a Gary Stu. People tend to state that these characters are flawless in every respect and consider them unrelatable.

However, I would argue that the issue is not that these characters are too powerful or flawless. There are plenty of flawless or powerful characters in storytelling. Sherlock Holmes has flaws, but he is powerful in the respect that his intellect is unparalleled, and his character has defined a genre of storytelling. Some people consider Superman to be one of the most virtuous and powerful characters ever written, and yet he is also one of the most popular. So, power and flaws are not the problem. The problem is how these two character traits are being utilized.

This brings us to the subject of genre. I would like to do a more complete layout of this argument in the future, but I will do my best to make the point concisely here. Star Wars is a very specific type of story. It’s not traditional science fiction like Star Trek, where a variety of characters often serve as avatars for various moral positions.

Many times, Kirk, Spock, and Bones are taking on society’s own views about a problem that has been twisted to fit a futuristic setting. In science fiction, the technology and planets often become window dressing for social commentary. Star Trek episodes can range from thoughtful philosophy to trite propaganda depending on the execution, but in Star Wars, the structure of such debates is entirely different.

For the purposes of this review series, it’s important to remember that the issue is audience expectations, not necessarily what is most applicable to the distinctions between science fiction and fantasy. This is why the differences between Star Trek and Star Wars are particularly relevant, since they are both popular franchises in the science fiction genre.

Science fiction often has various characters describing different social or philosophical positions, but Star Wars is, in a manner of speaking, a type of morality play. In fact, many fantasies take the format of a morality play, which is to say that the moral in question is more modeled than articulated.

Allow me to demonstrate what I mean with a simplistic example. Let’s say that the ethical debate in question is whether or not it is important to have emotional restraint. In Star Trek, Kirk might deliver a long speech about the importance of following the heart and doing what the heart feels is right. He might say that the heart is more important than the head.

Spock would then counter with another long argument stating that rationality is the highest ideal and the good of the whole is more important than one’s individual emotional attachments. Then Bones might say something to the effect of, “Don’t do it, Jim! It’s suicide!” Then Jim does that suicidal thing, and the ending might be happy or sad, but whatever happens, the trio is bound to talk about the results by the end of the episode.

In Star Wars, Obi Wan might warn Anakin about his emotional attachment to Padmé. Anakin will argue about it, but there isn’t going to be a lengthy debate. The conversation lasts just long enough to establish the story question: Is Obi Wan right or wrong? Then the emperor uses Padmé to seduce Anakin to the dark side, and the audience is meant to infer that Obi Wan is right. The purpose of the scene between the two characters is not to introduce a debate, but to set up an argument through a situation.

Star Trek often uses avatars and discussions to present an ethical question—and if they’re feeling dubious, they might straw man the position they don’t like—and Star Wars will set up an entire chain of events to make a case for what the writers believe. In other words, Star Trek will present an air of impartiality and moral ambiguity to present questions—whether they’re impartial or not—whereas Star Wars’ worldview is fixed and the story itself is meant to make the case.

Both approaches have their pros and cons, but in the case of Star Wars, the worldview needs to be fixed. There need to be good guys and bad guys because the common story question in its genre—fantasy—is, “How does someone grow to overcome challenges?” The character is supposed to grow, but in order to grow, both physically and ethically, that character must have somewhere to grow to. The character can’t take on a certain set of ethics if the ethical dilemma in the story is morally ambiguous. In a story about growth, in order to defeat the evil, that evil has to be identifiable from the outset.

This is why the “boy on a farm” trope is so often utilized. The protagonist must begin in a weakened state because the story question is not what is or isn’t the right thing to do; the story question is, “How do I become strong enough to do the right thing and defeat the bad guys?” And how does one defeat the bad guys? They must first defeat themselves.

He who conquers himself can conquer the world. One can agree or disagree with the sentiment, but that is the general idea. But how is one supposed to defeat oneself if they are already perfect? This is the problem with Rey. I’ll address this idea further in the next review.