Marvel's She-Hulk and the faculty of female rage: A series review

She-Hulk smashes fourth walls, bad endings and toxic fanboys in its first season’s finale

By: Sarah Grishpul

SheHulk in the Marvel comics (Graphic by Sama Nemat Allah using imagery from @Gwendal via Flickr)

Warning! The next paragraphs contain spoilers for the finale of She-Hulk: Attorney at Law. Proceed with caution.

Alright, I guess I’ll be the first to say it: The She-Hulk finale was actually pretty good. 

In fact, I didn’t hate the show at all. I thought it was quite witty and a fun, fresh new take on superhero stories.

Wow, shocking. A person online who doesn’t hate the new Marvel show? Now that’s something you don’t hear every day, as the show currently sits at a 35 per cent audience score on Rotten Tomatoes.

She-Hulk: Attorney at Law is the latest in a stream of Marvel-produced television that stars Canadian Emmy-Award-Winner Tatiana Maslany as the talented lawyer Jennifer Walters. After accidentally becoming exposed to radioactive blood from her cousin Bruce Banner, a.k.a. the Hulk, Walters has become a Hulk herself. Determined to continue living her normal life, she is left to face the conflicts of not only being a superhero but a female superhero and perhaps even scarier, a woman in the workplace.

So, why exactly are people so upset over She-Hulk’s existence? Well, for years, the superhero genre has been largely dominated by men and targeted to an audience of male viewers. We didn’t get a female-led Marvel movie until 2019's Captain Marvel. Even then, Brie Larson’s Carol Danvers was met with instant online backlash, with fanboys complaining about her arrogance and stony expression.

What puzzled me at the time was how Marvel fans could complain about Carol Danvers’ impassivity when characters like Bucky Barnes were idolized for their emotionless, stone-cold expressions. She-Hulk answers this perfectly through its depiction of the weaponization of female rage.

Early on in the pilot episode, Walters explains to her cousin Bruce why she’s able to control her Hulk form, saying, “I’m great at controlling my anger … I do it pretty much every day. If I don’t, I’ll get called ‘emotional,’ or ‘difficult,’ or I might just literally get murdered. So I’m an expert at controlling my anger because I do it infinitely more than you.”

As someone who has navigated a society built on punishing femininity, I could feel myself nodding along with Walters during this scene. Women are often taught at a young age to repress their anger, as it will make them appear unlikeable, emotional and irrational. Whereas with men, their rage is revered, often seen as powerful and assertive, especially in a professional setting. Female rage is often vilified in society as the blame more often falls on our shoulders. This becomes inherently amplified when we find ourselves at the margins of other fault lines in society. Black, Indigenous, racialized, and queer females have no choice but to police themselves lest the world does it instead.

During the last two episodes, Walters’ sex tape is leaked during an awards ceremony, causing her to “Hulk out” and destroy the venue. Instead of going after the perpetrators, the authorities arrest Walters and denounce her as an unstable, irrational superhuman. She is punished severely for simply being angry and discredited in the eyes of the public — after going through something incredibly traumatizing and degrading.

Moments like these are why I enjoyed the show so much. It’s refreshing to see something so relatable on screen, even if I may be a young university student and She-Hulk is a giant, green superhuman.

The show itself wraps up in a way that is true to Walters’ character. In the season finale, it is revealed that Todd, a creep Walters met on a Tinder date, was behind the leak in an attempt to destroy She-Hulk’s reputation. In teaming up with an online group of men who also despised the idea of another female superhero, these internet trolls mirrored the show's real-life haters with an almost unnerving accuracy. After stealing and infusing himself with Walters’ blood, Todd evolves into a Hulk and fans are ready to see the two duke it out in a classic Marvel fight sequence.

Only, that’s not what happens at all.

Instead of “Hulking out” and going up against a villain in the typical superhero fashion we’ve come to expect from the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), Walters breaks the fourth wall (literally) by smashing out of her show into the Disney+ dashboard. Infiltrating Marvel Studios, Walters takes her issues with the plot to the one in charge, Marvel Studios President Kevin Feige. Or rather, an AI robot named K.E.V.I.N. (Knowledge Enhanced Visual Interconnectivity Nexus). Walters refuses to abide by the classic Marvel formula and instead rewrites her narrative the only way a lawyer knows best. She argues that because it is her show, she should get a say in how her own story should end.

The entire sequence was cheeky and charming, bringing a smile to my face as Walters was able to save the day — not through brawn, but brain. In her closing argument, much like a lawyer, she proclaims that the MCU has become derivative due to the fact they all end the same way, with big spectacles and flashy fight scenes.

“It distracts from the story which is that my life fell apart right when I was learning to be both Jen and She-Hulk. Those are my stakes, K.E.V.I.N.”

Walters convinces the omnipotent K.E.V.I.N. to get rid of Todd’s Hulk powers, proclaiming that the real villain wasn’t the powers, but his toxic masculinity.

By breaking out of the stale superhero finale trope, She-Hulk opens the door for future MCU projects to experiment outside the recycled storylines fans have begun to grow tired of.

Overall, do I believe She-Hulk: Attorney at Law is a good show? Hell yeah.

Does it deserve all the hate it’s been receiving for its entire run time? Hell no.

We need more shows like this that present the world from a female perspective. Women should be allowed to occupy strong, powerful roles both in fiction and in real life. To pull a quote from The Incredibles’ Elastigirl, another one of my favourite female superheroes: “Girls, come on. Leave the saving of the world to the men? I don’t think so.”

How Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings shifts the BIPOC representation game

The future of BIPOC representation in the mainstream film and television landscape seems promising

By: Kuwarjeet Singh Arora 

(Abby Grant/CanCulture)

If you’re looking for an exciting movie to watch over the holidays, look no further than Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, already streaming on Disney Plus. 

Like millions of us, I saw Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings during the theatrical release of the film. Having played the titular character Shang Chi, Canadian actor Simu Liu experienced the impact of representation firsthand.

At the age of five, Liu immigrated to Canada with his family. He was born in Harbin, China, and brought up by his grandparents. He was raised in Erin Mills, a neighbourhood of Mississauga, Ont., as an only child. In his early work, in 2015, he used to be a stuntman and then got cast in the OMNI Television crime series Blood and Water. Later that year, Liu played the lead in the TV adaptation of a play of the same name, Kim's Convenience, for CBC. This remains his most memorable television success, having been nominated for and winning numerous awards internationally, including Best Comedy Series at the 2018 Canadian Screen Awards and Most Popular Foreign Drama at the 2019 Seoul International Drama Awards.

It was back then that Liu talked a lot about Asian representation in the Hollywood landscape. He said he wanted that not only for himself but for his community as well. From there, he went mainstream in 2019. 

At Comic-Con 2019, it was announced that Liu has been cast as Shang-Chi, the lead superhero in the film Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Marvel's first Asian-led film, which takes place in ancient China. Upon release, the film broke the record for Labour Day openings with estimated ticket sales of $94.4 million. Additionally, it was the first Marvel film with an Asian lead and a predominantly Asian cast.

I saw Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings because it was the first Asian American superhero movie, which talked a lot about the lack of representation of BIPOC communities in the mainstream media. 

This movie’s plot talks about the representation of Asian language and culture. In the film, Mandarin-Chinese is the first language spoken and it is present in a large amount of dialogue, showing that director Destin Daniel Cretton wished to emphasize the importance of other languages besides English. The story explores themes of identity when many Asians immigrate to America. In order to adapt to a whole new country, they have to leave a part of their true identity behind. In this film, characters are reminded to never forget their roots or those who came before them through a combination of cultural elements.

Previous Marvel movies have also touched on social issues, from the generational effects of systemic racism in the Black Panther to sexism in Captain Marvel with their first female lead. Like its fellow Marvel releases that showcased notable "firsts," Shang-Chi's release in theatres has been connected to a frustrating discussion related to box office sales, equality, and representation. The concept is that Asian-American superheroes like Shang-Chi deserve a big box office haul because they are as valid as their white rivals. It's an advantage for mainstream media and the film industry to report on major movements like #BlackLivesMatter or stories about Asian hate when they hit the mainstream news. I don't know whether the hype around Shang-Chi will be a social justice gamechanger for Asian-Americans. It is unfair to expect a movie to solve complex problems such as racism or inequality in two hours. 

When it comes to Asian representation, there are a lot of times when films don't really have a full Asian cast or fail to challenge the unpleasant stereotypes of being portrayed as nerdy or negatively as some sort of villain. Most of the time we are represented through side characters helping a white protagonist. It's always great to have new representation, but at the same time, I wonder if it took too long. The reason I think this movie was late in releasing was the fact that Asian hate as a whole is on the rise. If this movie had been released before the Marvel universe, people’s perceptions of Asians might have been influenced positively. For the first time ever in history, Asians will be the main cast and the storyline will reflect and represent their culture. 

As a result of exploring Chinese values and avoiding offensive jokes, the film challenges typical Hollywood stereotypes about Asians. As a result, characters are no longer merely "quiet and smart Asians" but have flaws of their own: Shang-Chi and Katy both refuse to grow up; their mothers and friends never joke about Katy's "tiger mom." situation. Despite her strong and independent personality, Shang-Chi's sister is never sexualized to the point where she seems like a "dragon lady."

Additionally, the film addresses issues of immigration and identity. With uncertainty about her identity, Katy must discover who she is and what she wants, while Shang-Chi must deal with the conflicts presented by his past as a trained killer and a new existence in the United States.

Mainstream discourse needs more BIPOC voices. Those with resources and power need to tell stories about issues like Black Lives Matter, how Asian hatred is soaring, and why BIPOC are the first ones targeted when it comes to literally anything. 

It’s hard to say that BIPOC communities are fairly represented in the Hollywood landscape. As a Sikh, I don’t see someone who looks like me as a Marvel hero and I think that needs to change. This change is urgent because a lot of the hate crimes on the rise are the result of misconceptions about people's backgrounds.

We still haven't seen a Sikh superhero with a turban and a beard, and representation of my community in the mainstream Hollywood industry. This is especially true of people of colour who have a religious identity to maintain, for instance, a Sikh man like me or a woman wearing a burqa or hijab. Hollywood needs to address this issue because people who look like me are often portrayed as taxi drivers or as terrorists. 

When it comes to the future of BIPOC representation in the mainstream film industry, I think there is hope that movies like Shang-Chi will inspire people to demand more BIPOC representation in mainstream media. Yet, at the same time, everyone needs to think about why BIPOC communities are misrepresented in the Hollywood landscape in the first place. 

We need more diversified faces in Hollywood and more BIPOC lead roles, who are there to reflect their communities. An important fact to remember is that a considerable percentage of North America's population is composed of immigrants. But there are barely any movies that truly represent minorities’ values. Films such as Shang-Chi, starring an Asian actor, represent Asian heritage in one of the best possible ways.

I dream of living in a country that proudly tells stories of my community, as well as cultural stories that are rarely represented in the Hollywood landscape. Where it’s normal to have a person who is recognized as a BIPOC or from the LGBTQ+ community become the lead character in the mainstream entertainment industry. Where it’s normal to have a superhero with a turban or brown, Muslim women as superheroes. We need to further challenge the status quo with the power of cinema.