The Evolving Portrayal of Female Agency in Film

Our perception of characters is deeply influenced by filmmakers’ unique choices in lighting, costumes, and plot. In recent years, there has been a push for the inclusion of female characters with depth. Analyzing older films can help us understand how on-screen portrayals of women have historically reflected attitudes towards female agency. 

The latter half of Hollywood’s “Golden Years” is an ideal era to explore first. One of the most notable films noir made during this period is Double Indemnity (1944). Phyllis Dietrichson is a wealthy housewife. When insurance sales agent Walter Neff arrives at her house, Dietrichson asks about getting a life insurance policy for her husband without his knowledge so that she can murder him. Neff grows smitten with her, and the two eventually collaborate to carry out the murder to help Dietrichson receive the money outlined in the double indemnity clause of the insurance policy.

Phyllis Dietrichson and Walter Neff discreetly discuss the aftermath of the murder.

When viewed symbolically, the plot can be interpreted as an allegory for how, at the time, women who sought personal agency and life outside the nuclear family were viewed as a threat to societal norms. By the end of World War II, the United States’ labor force had changed significantly, with women entering the workforce to support wartime efforts. But despite the emerging postwar resurgence in financial stability and consumerism, women were still expected to adhere to a very narrow idea of womanhood. Societal expectations reflected “domestic containment,” which prioritized motherhood and the home above personal ambitions. Phyllis Dietrichson personifies the era’s anxieties about women seeking independence.

In the film, Phyllis Dietrichson is portrayed as cold and calculating rather than impulsive. In a memorable scene, she sits calmly and unbothered in the car as Walter strangles her husband to death. By focusing on infidelity, the plot establishes the themes of immorality and dishonesty from the beginning. And, in a shocking twist, it is revealed that Dietrichson – while already having an affair with Walter – has simultaneously been involved with her stepdaughter’s boyfriend, indicating that she cannot be trusted at all. Director Billy Wilder’s choice of a cheap-looking blonde wig for Dietrichson adds to the impression that Dietrichson is deceitful. Other films featuring strong-willed women, such as Laura (1944), contain similar symbolism that reflects a general unease with the potential of women gaining self-sufficiency.

By the early 1960s, there was more representation for unmarried women, marking a distinct shift from 1940s-era depictions. Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961) is a well-known film from this era. Although Holly Golightly has become a fashion icon, the depth beneath her glossy exterior is intriguing. Golightly, who works as an “American geisha” in the words of Truman Capote himself, represents an unusual brand of female independence. She lives alone and unmarried, but she survives financially by accompanying wealthy men on outings in exchange for money or gifts. This lifestyle is taboo, yet in the film, certain choices are made to make Golightly look appealing. Even in the opening scene, we first see Golightly wistfully looking through the window of a Tiffany store. This scene immediately sets the stage for Golightly’s character to be image-focused and materialistic. 

Holly Golightly looks at the items on display at Tiffany’s Store.

Golightly’s desire for a high-glamor aesthetic seems to demonstrate that a taboo lifestyle is more palatable when a woman fits the societal standards of beauty. Golightly’s put-together appearance and overall presentation are deceptive: her apartment’s messy interior suggests that she is on the move, and her cat is literally named “Cat.” The reveal that Golightly is actually “LulaMae,” who escaped a difficult past, cements that her lifestyle is only outwardly glamorous. It is unstable and relies on a rejection of long-term ownership or commitment. 

One major change from the book to the film was the ending. In the book, Golightly decides to escape to Brazil alone for a new life, but in the film, neighbor and writer Paul dramatically declares his love for her, which leads to a simple and formulaic ending. In a way, this is a compromise. Golightly gets distance from her past trauma, but she remains reliant on partnership to do so.

This shift might have been the result of a studio decision to make Golightly more appealing to wide audiences despite the growth of second-wave feminism and the evolution of feminist ideals. Golightly’s ending suggests that individuality was acceptable only within the bounds of traditional relationships.

Modern filmmaking has moved away from “safer” portrayals of independence and towards more authentic approaches. Little Women (2019) is a strong example of how older stories can be reimagined in a way that honors the source material while infusing it with modern values. The original novels, published in the late 1860s, can be interpreted as subversive for their time because they address the March sisters’ personal ambitions. Most notably, Josephine “Jo” March rejects suitor Laurie Laurence’s proposal in order to stay relatively independent and pursue her passion for writing. 

Writer and director Greta Gerwig built on this foundation in her adaptation by adding depth to the sisters’ arcs. Meg’s marriage involves struggles with financial challenges and demonstrates how mutual respect can persist despite hardship. Amy, who is widely considered to be self-absorbed and materialistic in the books, is portrayed with nuance. Gerwig’s take on Amy is perhaps the most impressive because she reframes Amy’s decisions by drawing from the theme of socioeconomic status. As in the books, Amy still seeks to marry into money, but she bluntly explains that marriage is ultimately a means to provide stability for her family. Her decision is made from a place of keen awareness and personal sacrifice rather than self-importance.

These creative choices indicate a conscious shift to more meaningful representation. Throughout film history, female agency has been variously depicted as dangerous, fleeting, and selfish instead of a vital reality. By replacing palatability with individuality, filmmakers can now portray women who are allowed to navigate life on their own terms.