RIP Carrie Fisher

I've always had a thing for heroines.  When I was growing up, male heroes were everywhere: He-Man, Action Man, Transformers, Star Wars, Superman.  Every franchise was built around its male heroes.

As a result, the heroes of every franchise bored the piss out of me.  They were great for what they were, and made for some awesome toys and occasionally aspirational figures, but I found them all narratively tedious.

I was instead fascinated by the female equivalents / members of the male-dominated teams: She-Ra, Arcee, Supergirl, Cheetara.  And that was all before I was old enough to see them as anything other than arse-kicking heroes.

Nor was this strictly down to their rarity: female-led stories have always had something more to them.  While Hercules was about some noble buff dude punch bad-guys and throwing them around like unconvincing rag-dolls, Xena was about a violent warrior maiden looking to atone, and taking on a sidekick who represented those she was desperate to view her in a different light.

I have never been so eager to read a comic as when I first discovered X-23.  And they all do pretty much the same thing, but just look at how a-typical Van Helsing or the Beaumont boys are compared to the complexity of Buffy.

And this love of the heroine can be traced right back to Princess Leia.  A supposed damsel-in-distress, the first thing she does when being 'rescued' is insult one of her assumed captors, take the piss out of her "heroes'" poor excuse for a plan, then save them all herself, while proving a better shot than the experienced smuggler, the child of prophecy, and an entire battalion of empirical troopers.  

Think about that: the Empire tortures her to discover the location of the rebels' base, and she resists; they threaten her entire planet, and she sends them to the wrong location; she sees her entire planet - including her mother and father - blown to smithereens, and the moment a pair of blundering wannbes get her out of her cell, she assumes command, questions one's ability to look after himself, and casually refers to a 7ft roaring beast with a high-powered crossbow as a 'walking carpet'.

One of her heroes sees his mentor - an old hermit he was casually acquainted with - sacrifice himself, and despite all Leia's been through, *she's* the one comforting *him*!  When she should have been: "Bitch, I've just lost my family, my people and my entire fucking planet! Grow a pair and go shoot some Tie Fighters!"

She outwits the Empire's highest ranks, and without pausing for a much-deserved nap after all she's already been through, she takes command of the rebellion and helps lead them to a decisive victory.

AND THAT'S JUST IN THE FIRST FILM!

By the time of episode VII, her son's turned to the dark side, her husband's pissed off to look for his ship, her brother - the JEDI MASTER - has disappeared because it's all too much to handle, and she's COMMANDING A NEW REBELLION AGAINST AN ORDER ARISEN FROM THE FALLEN EMPIRE, LED BY HER OWN HOMICIDAL OFFSPRING!

And only someone like Carrie Fisher could have brought that to life.  Only someone with that vivacity, that self-assurance, that strength and certainty of character.

Though to define her by that character is to undermine who she really was: an author; an activist; a paragon for equality.  She was the go-to script-doctor for many of Hollywood's big-name screenwriters.  She was an avatar for facing and owning one's emotional demons and sexual identity, and for not being defined by any of it.

Carrie Fisher was a true great of Hollywood and beyond, and a sad loss to us all.