In much of storybook lore, the battle between dark and light culminates with two figureheads of near equal power usually struggling for preservation or destruction. The audience believes evil is born at the root. They are bad seeds. However, after watching the Jessica Jones series, I became more interested in how well-meaning action morphs.
Very rarely do we see where paths diverge. We meet the bad guy, not their younger self before the fall. Trish Walker and Jessica Jones are adoptive sisters who start off on the same side, bound by duty and family, but end as something else. Something a lot like like a convoluted and clashing light and dark.
The Reluctant Hero
Jessica Jones has been imbued with unmatched strength from medical experiments, the lengths of which we never realize. She very judiciously and sparingly uses her power when necessary and never more than that. She does not want it and instead relies on investigative intuition and perilous sleuthing to accomplish her ends. Even in situations where she can easily best those around her, she follows the rule of law and relents, lets herself be arrested or imprisoned. She knows there must be balance and order. If she were to fully explore her capability, there would be chaos.
On a basic level, Jessica is still very human, experiencing sadness, regret, guilt, fear, longing, and anger. She has learned to cope with whiskey and isolation, pushing others away who will inevitably we caught in the web spun by her enemies. Her family and friends can easily become bait. Whether or not its easier to let people in, feel love and belonging with the possibility of loss or numb oneself with alcohol and keep everyone at a high-kick’s distance is hard to say. None of this is easy for Jessica. Be that as it may, she has been deeply and irreparably traumatized by the most unimaginable pain.
Her character is prickly and curt. She has no softness, seemingly no compassion, and even little color in her life. Shades of gray and black wash her apartment/business and her wardrobe. Jessica is a hard ass. A stone cold outcast. From the beginning, we do not empathize, but are morbidly interested. We know heroes never rest and never get to be normal, but is there no one she trusts? Is there no one she lets her guard down with? As her backstory unfolds, we know she was not always a passing shadow on a fire escape. She was once fairly normal, if not awkward person like the rest of us. But like the rest of us, she was molded by her experiences. A psychiatrist questionnaire would certainly have turned up a singularly unique client. From family death to rape and kidnapping to murder to psychological torture, upon reflection, the viewer can scarcely imagine how she has made it out alive. But somehow, we continue to be cut and put off by her jagged edges, even though we know the extent of her wreckage.
Jessica finds a profession that offers satisfaction and salvation after the fallout from her mental imprisonment by Kilgrave. She is anonymous and shrouded during the night, but still gets to be a hero to one client at time… or not. Jessica is not renowned for her optimism. As a private investigator, she gets to see the nuance of good and evil. The ones willing to pay for information or resolution are not always the good guys. Not entirely. The world is a seedy and unfair place. Being close enough to touch it and maybe make some positive change is probably enough to get a little peace inside.
Then there’s her sister Trish.
The Aspirational Hero
Trish Walker is a beaming, blonde, child television star, and brief pop artist. She was raised by a strong-willed and no-nonsense mother who pushed her young daughter into the limelight, quite literally cutting the line to get her there. Trish’s mother is physically and psychologically abusive. With no other family to advocate for her or protect her, Trish is at the mercy of her mother’s machinations in the entertainment industry. As a teen, she is offered up to at least one powerful man as a price for stardom. We can see Trish’s success is her mother’s way out of a dire circumstance of financial instability. Trish’s position is a stressful position for sure. Two people’s survival are linked, dependent on an expertly delivered audition and feigned confidence.
We know that Trish has been hurt in her life. But in comparison to Jessica’s darkness, we almost prefer it. Her story seems a triumphant one that could easily be spun into a bestselling memoir and soft focus-filmed primetime interview. Who doesn’t want to have rich people’s problems? Add to that, Trish appears out of touch with the reality Jessica knows so well: everyone has the potential to be the bad guy to someone else. Still, Trish does not know what to do with her idle hands. She feels powerless and manipulated behind decades of pasted on smiles she’s worked to reflect in her eyes. She is unsure of who she is and drifts toward the next opportunity, undoubtedly coordinated by her overbearing and insistent mother. Infantilized, her partnership with Jessica is thrilling, dangerous, and transformative.
Trish is bolstered by her addiction to an unknown and powerful amphetamine. She gets a taste of the crimefighting nightlife without fear or trepidation, but naively taps into only a sliver of Jessica’s experience. After she runs out of her little friend, she seeks out a more permanent fix, using the same experimental technology forced upon Jessica. After barely surviving the ordeal, she develops a new purpose, a burning fire inside, a calling… she wants to be a hero.
Powers Combined
We can see some benefit emerging from their partnership. Jessica needs some backup and Trish needs an outlet for her newfound powers. They do save each other but also put each other in danger. It is the price of partnership.
The constant push and pull between them intensifies. Trish is a newly minted “powered” person who spends lots of time studying her craft. She is the bachelor degree to Jessica’s on-the-job training and we see how old school intuition buts heads with book smarts. We cannot help but admire yet pity both women, as we know both and neither of them are right. Their ideals as a pair are still forming and still conflicting. As strong as she is, Jessica is not a good fighter or a fast runner. Indeed, she has not honed any skill relating to her power, only used it as a tool at her disposal, among others. Trish, on the other hand, channels a lot of energy into developing speed and agility. Anything less would be a waste of that gift, a fact she makes clear to Jessica.
The divergence begins when Trish’s unchecked rage makes her reckless while hunting a serial killer. We are almost hopeful Trish will get her man, that she is taking out the trash, but know Jessica is probably right. Wars are not won on a single battle. Sometimes the bad guy has to get away. But Trish is determined and stubborn, off to the next mission to right wrongs with what is most certainly a much more stark definition of good and evil.
By the time Trish starts her own path without Jessica after their mother is killed, we can see that righteous purpose unraveling. Justice does not move fast enough and Trish cannot wait. She begins putting plans in motion, which include murder, to correct the balance. After a while, she becomes something else entirely. She is desperate and misguided. She is dangerous and manipulative, making it harder for investigators to stitch up cases. A staged glossy photo of her as a masked vigilante on a bridge is nice front page news, but the real work is on the ground among the people.
Toward the end of the series, Trish becomes a cold blooded murderer. Jessica reveals her true identity and as a law enforcement hunt is launched, Trish takes hostages and forces Jeri Hogarth to coordinate her escape. On the fringe now, she has her showdown with Jessica. We finally see how well she is in the dark. There are no shadows in her life, which is perhaps why she cannot let things go. No one can get away with anything under cover of night.
Newborn Villain
Trish is finally captured and in a haze in an interrogation room, says, “I’m the bad guy.” She is shackled and transported with a security team to a island prison. After the credits rolled, I imaged what jail would do to her. Trish is green, but self-righteous. How easy would it be to convince herself others deserve her rage? How will the isolation and conflict affect how she sees the outside world? How she sees herself?
Devoid of the context Jessica got through struggle, Trish is poised to become a type of villain that reminds me of Magento.
Magneto and Charles Xavier are two sides to a coin and started off as allies. While Charles knew the responsibility of his power and used it to create positive change despite discrimination and othering, Magento was never content to let things be. He firmly believed humans should bow to mutants and in a famous scene in X-Men (2000), held a fleet of police officers at gunpoint with their own weapons. The slaughter would have been easy.
Magento is the bad guy. So is Trish. While we are very familiar with the push and pull between superhero and supervillain, I found Trish’s genesis as the “bad guy” a fascinating one. As much as we scoff at Jessica’s alcoholism and short temper, we know she’s right. There is actually a narrow demarcation between our concept of good and evil. It is easy to let our egos get in the way of justice. It can be tempting to skip the line to take the role meant for us. It is a constant struggle to stay just beyond the depth of darkness. The pacifist and militant will always collide.
Our systems of justice are flawed, just like the humans who created them. The very difficult long-haul work is staying on the ground and forcing incremental change. We cannot rescue every captive. It’s a impossible task. Our only hope is realizing we must force our way to the light on a tortuous path. There are no shortcuts. There is rarely any real winning or thanks.
Jessica opts to leave it all behind. At the last moment, the voice of her abuser pops in her head. She does not want to quit and will not be defeated. She turns around in the train station and heads back with what we hope is renewed purpose. The true test of a hero is someone who bounces back after each defeat.
What then of the bad guy?
Perhaps it is someone who refuses to consider it.