Well, Supergirl, it’s been fun.
When I first heard of the show last year, it was this—maybe a little cheesy, but that’s comics—fun show with a focus on relationships between women of all different types, a show about a woman growing up and coming into her own and finding her place in the world. And, of course, Kara and Alex. The sisterhood at the heart of the show. Of course there were some things that could’ve been done better—but it became clearer and clearer that it was an honest effort.
I hope you know how much of a leap of faith it took to follow Supergirl to the CW, as a queer woman. I hope you know that that’s—in my entirely unprofessional opinion—an indicator of how much good faith this show had. This show literally got the CW’s foot in the door with a demographic that it had all but completely alienated by this time last year.
I think it’s safe to say you’ve used that up.
I believe that representation matters. But it doesn’t begin and end with Sanvers. And this season I have watched:
1. A black man and a beloved DC character sidelined as a love interest with no warning, no real explanation, and no further treatment of it—now, as we know, to pair off Kara with the frat-boy reincarnation of Lar Gand
2. Kara’s entire arc this season (both Danvers sisters, actually) be reduced to her love interest. Jeremiah who?
3. The eighty millionth regurgitation of the “love of a good woman” trope. I don’t need to go into why this is inappropriate on so many levels in a supposedly feminist show that’s marketed towards young women and girls (but I will anyways).
4. Characterization and continuity thrown out the window in order to make Mon-El look good and drive the plot.
For Jeremiah’s deception to fool everyone but Mon-El, not only do we have to assume that it never occurred to trained government operatives that he could be a plant, we also have to believe that a) no one examined him at the DEO, b) if they did, no one knows the difference between a robotic arm and a human one, and c) we have to forget that Hank/J’onn is a literal mind reader.
You can only excuse so much before it starts to look like you’re tearing down your title character and your actual core ensemble in order to make a character relevant to the plot.
5. Kara repeatedly insist that she doesn’t like Mon-El, she doesn’t want to be around him—only to have him harass her until she dates him (or forgives him).
6. Alex “Come near my family and I will end you” Danvers push her sister repeatedly at a man who Kara has openly expressed dislike for multiple times; who, once they’re dating, disrespects and lies to her repeatedly. She excuses his behavior on more than one occasion. (Are we sure they haven’t all been replaced with White Martians?)
7. Watch Kara be put in a position (sometimes transparently contrived, as in “Homecoming”) where she either has to apologize to Mon-El because he’s been justified by the narrative, or, for some unknown reason (usually prodding from another character, like Alex or the Music Meister), decides to forgive him. Over and over and over again.
8. An actual episode, supposedly focused on the Danvers family, where Mon-El has more screen time than the actual lead and drives a plot he isn’t even relevant to.
This show was, nominally, about Kara Danvers. Her as a whole person; trauma, family, grief, rage, jealousy—and her deep desire in spite of what she’d been through to give back to her adoptive home and do the right thing. It was about her professional life, trying to make her way in the world and working for the kind of woman that could help her learn how to do those things. It was about her assumptions being challenged—not narratively bludgeoned—and her learning. But most of all, it was about her becoming her own person. A whole person.
That show is gone. Her single main arc this season as a character is rehabilitating the galaxy’s most unrepentant frat boy by… arguing with him a lot and constantly being pushed to a point where she’s ready to break up with him, apparently. People are so quick to say “But he’s learning!”; “But Kara’s a stick-in-the-mud!”; “She’s prejudiced too!” (I’m pretty sure you call “prejudice” against a shameless misogynist “standards”, but what do I know, I’m gay). They’re missing the point. And that is:
Kara’s story now revolves around Mon-El.
Arguments and evenings with him have entirely replaced “sister nights” at the end of the episodes. His secrets, his disrespect, his actions, are now driving her development as a character. She mostly only reacts to events outside of that, like another threat from Cadmus, or rescuing Lena Luthor, or whatever’s happening with Jeremiah—but her stance towards those events is reactive.
In other words, Kara no longer drives her own story.
And Kara has lost her job at CatCo. That job that, last year, “kept her connected” to the people she was trying to serve? Disappeared with a whimper after a similarly half-assed treatment to the search for Jeremiah. Kara no longer has a professional life.
But okay. I’m gay; clearly I don’t understand what it’s like to be heterosexual, or in a relationship, and I’m obviously only in this for the Supercorp, right? I should just stay in my lane. I have Sanvers! What else could I possibly want?
Funny you should ask.
Flip side of Alex’s story—I’ve lived in queer communities. I’ve watched friends come out. Women who thought they were straight.
And I watched them struggle with the things they’ve been taught about relationships. What they should want and what’s acceptable from a partner. What love looks like, on that micro, interpersonal level. Things that are, in many ways, inextricably intertwined with gender, in our culture.
Mon-El is the closest thing I can think of to an embodiment of all those things that they struggle to unlearn. Mon-El—and stories like this one—are exactly how they learned those things.
Let me remind you, in case you’ve forgotten, that while the queer lady fanbase for shows tends to have a much wider age range, this show is primarily directed at young women and girls.
A show that’s marketed as “female-centric” has in fact become a show about a woman fixing a man—a man who, incidentally, doesn’t want to be fixed. He just wants to keep banging her.
And these girls are going to grow up and become women—straight or not—who will go out into the world thinking that this is normal. That this is acceptable—to be lied to repeatedly, to have your requests for privacy disregarded, your family spoken to rudely and your parents treated with hostility and suspicion, to have your house broken into, be accused of sleeping with someone by a jealous not-boyfriend, to shoulder the entire emotional weight of making the relationship work by forgiving him over and over and over again—
—Because in the end, the story goes, that will make him (them) better.
The reality is, so often, that it doesn’t. That a person will happily continue taking advantage of someone’s good faith if they think they can get away with it. That jealous behavior like Mon-El exhibits often escalates into physical violence. That a dude who seemingly doesn’t care is often exactly what he seems. Someone who doesn’t want to change will not change, no matter how “much” you love them.
That you owe it to that person to stay with them and pour all your effort into a relationship; that sure, you “deserve better” than to be lied to—But you’re still a terrible person if you don’t give them another chance.
Compared with a relationship that only gets five minutes of screen time most episodes, it feels a little bit like I’m expected to be happy with what I’m offered as a member of the queer female demographic and ignore the utterly cringe-worthy toxicity of the Kara/Mon-El relationship, the abrupt and kinda racist way James was removed from the field, the terrible narrative choices, the plot holes so big you could lose Fort Rozz in them, and, oh yeah—that Supergirl is no longer Kara’s story. It’s the story of Mon-El’s rehabilitation.
I can’t celebrate the representation I’ve wanted for fifteen years when it means I have to ignore the destructive messages the rest of this show is pushing.
And, kinda like a car crash, it’s becoming increasingly clear that whoever is driving this story is not letting off the gas. I don’t know why. But I can see it coming, so I’m bailing.
I want to support positive queer representation. I want to support shows about women, and their stories—all of them. It’s what made me willing to take a risk on this show after the move was announced.
But Supergirl is no longer that story. And damn, I wish it were different. But I recognize the signs. And I’m gonna be spending my Monday evenings watching something else. Something I can enjoy without feeling like I’m throwing anyone who’s not me under the bus. Hanging on and waiting for a change that’s never gonna come.
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