<span class="SFPTagline"> From SCIFIPEDIA </span>

The Modern Amazons: Warrior Women On-Screen by Dominique Mainon and James Ursini, published by Limelight Editions (March 1, 2006) documents the transformation of the archetypal warrior woman in film and on television.

SCIFIpedia presents an exclusive excerpt from The Modern Amazons.

Chapter Seven: Where No Man Has Gone Before

Space. The final frontier . . . for women warriors and feminist utopias.

The science fiction genre is the one place where almost anything goes, in terms of switched gender roles, edgy sexual situations and definitely the exploration of lost civilizations of warrior women. Displaced myths from a variety of cultures eventually land in outer space. Fetishes are safely explored, many through cyborgs and postmodern romances. Even late-'60s episodes of Star Trek feature some rather racy encounters with Amazon women. The classic “The Gamesters of Triskelion” episode of 1968 is one of the few Star Trek episodes that was written by a female—namely, Margaret Armen, a veteran of warrior women shows like Wonder Woman and The Big Valley.

The show opens with Kirk, Uhura, and Chekov attempting to beam down to one planet and instead being hijacked and taken to another, named “Triskelion.” There they are captured, fitted with obedience collars that shock them if they step out of line. Each is forced to participate in a sadistic game that involves gladiator-style tournaments, to the delight of an intergalactic audience. In order to prepare them, the trio are handed over to “drill thralls,” experienced men and women who must train them for the next event.

Kirk’s thrall is named Shahna (Angelique Pettyjohn). She is dressed in traditional Amazon attire (except that it is made of metallic silver fabric). She is tall and blue-haired and deadly at the game. She is at first relentless with Captain Kirk, dominating him and setting up a harsh training schedule. But of course she softens up as Kirk attempts to seduce her in order to gain an advantage and escape. But she too is controlled by the “providers” who bet on the games. And so his plan is thwarted and he is shocked by his obedience collar as well as whipped in the ring by the ferocious Kloog.

Uhura and Chekov are all assigned their own drill instructors. Uhura’s is a large muscular man employed to assault her while Kirk and Chekov stand helpless in their cages listening to the whimpering coming from her cell. But she seems to come out fine in the end. Chekov is assigned a large, rather manly woman who seems to take an uncomfortably intimate interest in him. Eventually Kirk, Uhura, and Chekov must meet their opponents in the ring. Although Shahna has become fond of her “student,” she must face Kirk and do battle with him. Following the conventions of serial television, our hero, Kirk, wins, of course, and is allowed to return with Uhura and Chekov to Enterprise. But the show doesn’t end without Kirk having his shirt ripped off and walking around bare-chested in a collar.

Another episode of rather silly female domination occurred much later on in 1988 on Star Trek: The Next Generation, in an episode titled “Angel One.” In this one, Riker, who serves pretty much as an '80s version of ladies' man Captain Kirk, beams down to the planet Angel One with several of his crew to search for the crew of a freighter disabled years ago. They soon discover that the society running the planet is matriarchal in structure and that the crew of surviving men are fugitives hunted by the authorities as rebels, as they refuse to accept the rule of women.

Bowing to cultural protocol, Riker happily dresses in the objectifying garments that the males of the planet must wear: tights and a cut-away top to show his bare chest. The female leader of the planet takes a definite interest in Riker, who is much larger than the silly little men on their planet, who frolic about serving the women and sniffing perfume bottles. While Riker works on seducing the head female, to the jealousy of his female crew, his team discovers the rebel men have caused many of the women to break from tradition and seek a life where they don’t have to be in charge anymore.

Riker does some fast-talking to stop the rebels from being executed. The leaders of the matriarchy are so impressed by his reason and compassion that they rethink their matriarchal leanings and open up to the idea of standard 50/50 equality between genders. The rebels and their families are exiled to a distant part of the planet to establish their own society and Riker returns to Enterprise to regroup for his next mission.

Contents 1 Gene Roddenberry’s legacy: Star Trek’s warrior women in space 2 Battlestar Galactica old and new, gender wars in cyberspace 3 Serenity, “The future is worth fighting for” 4 Stargate SG-1, “Unlock the universe” 5 The Fifth Element, The perfect being 6 Blade Runner, “More human than human” 7 Starship Troopers, “You can’t step on these ones” 8 Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow 9 Alien, Ripley faces the archaic mother 10 Dark Angel, “Engineered to raise hell” 11 Trinity of The Matrix series 12 Star Wars’ two female protagonists: mother, sister, princess, queen, senator, and warrior too 13 The Terminator series 14 External Links

Gene Roddenberry’s legacy: Star Trek’s warrior women in space

Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek, was, like his cohort Rod Serling (Twilight Zone), part of the progressive movement of the '60s, which altered the conservative political bent of corporate-dominated television. Working under the cover of the science fiction genre, they were able to inject social themes into their shows that many mainstream series feared to tackle. Even though Roddenberry died in 1991, most of the spinoffs which followed his death in television or movie form were either inspired by his work or often based on outlines and scripts he had left behind.

One of Roddenberry’s most important innovations was including strong women as members of crew in all of his science fiction projects, beginning with Star Trek (1966—1969). He is also credited with showing the first interracial kiss on a TV series. Though significant steps have been made in future shows in breaking racial and gender barriers, there are still many archaic biases and situations in series that haven’t changed much since the '60s. They push the envelope on occasion with characters like Dax, whose gender is ambiguous, but never really go all the way.

However, a variety of women have taken on warrior roles on the series over the years. These are a few of the many:

Nyota Uhura (Nichelle Nichols) began her career as chief communications officer aboard the starship Enterprise in the original Star Trek series. She was one of the few African-American characters on television who were not in subservient or comic roles. In the series of Star Trek movies made subsequent to the series, she was promoted to lieutenant commander.

Tasha Yar (Denise Crosby) was chief of security under Captain Picard on the starship Enterprise for the series Star Trek: The Next Generation (1987–1994). She was extremely professional and highly skilled in battle techniques, particularly martial arts. She died defending her comrades against an alien entity on a distant planet after only a relatively short period in service.

Kathryn Janeway (Kate Mulgrew) became captain of the starship Voyager on the series Star Trek: Voyager (1995–2001). She followed in the tradition of Kirk and Picard, combining tough leadership with empathetic compassion. She was always willing to trust her instincts about more questionable subordinates, seen most definitely in the cases of the Borg Seven of Nine and the fiery half-Klingon B'Elanna Torres.

B'Elanna Torres (Roxann Dawson) was the chief engineer aboard Voyager, entrusted with that position by Captain Janeway. Because of her Klingon heritage she was combative and often anti-social but as the series developed she found herself more in touch with her human side and even consented to marry a human and subsequently gave birth to a daughter. She was a fierce fighter like all Klingons and an important asset to Janeway in battle.

Seven of Nine (Jeri Ryan) was one of the most interesting of the warrior women of Star Trek because she was among the most conflicted. Janeway rescued her from the Borg collective mind by removing many of her implants. She had been kidnapped by the Borg as a child and raised by them as one of their drones. Even though she formed tentative attachments to various crew members, she still at times felt the call of the Borg collective and feared she would betray her comrades in arms.

T'Pol (Jolene Blalock) was, in the series Enterprise (2001–2005), the female counterpart of the original Star Trek’s Spock. As a Vulcan she maintained the superiority of reason over emotions. However, in the case of T’Pol her sexual drive, which was intense and at times overcame her reason, drove her to become almost predatory in search for release. She was placed on Enterprise by the Vulcans to monitor the captain—Archer, who was infamous for his rebellious actions. More often than not, however, she came down on the side of her captain, against the directives of her Vulcan superiors.

Hoshi Sato (Linda Park) was, in the series Enterprise, the linguist and communications expert. She initially had grave reservations about space travel and evidenced great trepidation. But as the series progressed she gradually conquered those fears and in alternate dimension even became the conniving and seductive “Empress of the Universe.”

There have been several more series based on Roddenberry models, including Earth: Final Conflict (1997–2002) and Andromeda (2000–2005). Both feature women warriors but Andromeda has the most unique one. Actress Lexa Doig plays Andromeda Ascendant or Rommie, the artificial intelligence of the starship which takes human form. She directs all the functions of the ship as well as advising the captain on battle strategies. Because she has human form she also begins to experience emotions and desires which cause the character to seem at times a bit schizophrenic.

Battlestar Galactica old and new, gender wars in cyberspace

Glen Larson’s short-lived but fondly remembered series Battlestar Galactica (1978) dealt with a group of humans wandering in space in search of the planet Earth, hoping to start a new life there. The show was chock full of literary and Biblical allusions. The commander was named “Adama” (read: Adam); the ship itself resembled Noah’s Ark in its search for a safe homeland; and one of the officers was named “Starbuck” after the first mate of the Pequod in Moby Dick, another story of a ship on a quest.

In 2003–2004, Ronald Moore revived the show in a miniseries and in doing so made some major alterations to reflect the changing tastes of audiences, particularly as regards the presence of warrior women. Larson’s series had been the domain of males, utilizing in lead parts such forceful actors as Lorne Greene and Richard Hatch. Although Moore did leave the captain and commander male, he did alter the gender of his two chief officers: Starbuck and Boomer. The storm of abuse from cyberspace was immediate. Moore was called a “she-male” for his decisions. The two women cast in the parts (Katee Sackhoff and Grace Park) were referred to condescendingly as “girls” and labeled “butch” simply because they took on a male role.

Whether the series proved successful or not was no longer the issue, or even whether it was artistically of value. It is was now a flashpoint for what Susan Faludi has identified as a right-wing “male backlash” against feminism in her perceptive book Backlash. Even though we were entering a new millennium, sexism seemed to still be an issue and once again pushed out any critical discussion of the merits of the show.

Serenity, “The future is worth fighting for”

Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator Joss Whedon set his sights on outer space in 2005 with a reworking of his ill-fated television series Firefly. With Serenity, Whedon brought his sense of irony to the story of a ragtag crew of mercenaries who lost their idealism when they lost the intergalactic war. Captain Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) is the captain and his second in command is Zoe (Gina Torres).

The plot involves the human cargo Reynolds has taken on board, two fugitives from the oppressive Alliance which now controls the galaxy. One is a doctor and the other his telepathic, mercurial sister (Summer Glau). In transporting these two, Reynolds and Zoe must reconnect with their moral center and defend them against the forces of the Alliance.

The character Serenity, a pale, waifish, troubled girl is first shown strapped to a chair, being brainwashed by a group of government men. There is a large hypodermic needle stuck in the middle of her forehead (major phallic symbol) and she suffers greatly as the brainwashing proceeds. She is saved though by her brother, who pulls out the needle and guides her to safety. Despite her slight appearance, she is a prodigy, a programmed warrior who can do incredible feats, fighting in a style that is a graceful as a dance.

Many strong women are portrayed in the crew, from their female engineer to the Captain’s second in command, Zoe. The character Inara (Morena Baccarin) even fights using traditional Amazonian style bow.

Stargate SG-1, “Unlock the universe”

The TV series Stargate (1997–2007) was inspired by the 1994 movie of the same name. In it scientists allied with the military unearth an ancient device which unlocks portals to other dimensions in time and space. The creators of the show made a few significant changes to the formula set by the movie, among them the introduction of a central female character—military operative Samantha Carter (Amanda Tapping).

The success of the Stargate series then inspired yet another spin-off—Stargate Atlantis (2004&ndash). In this television show an international team launches an expedition through the stargate to the lost city of Atlantis. Among its cast is Teyla (Rachel Luttrell), a feisty alien who mixes compassion with impressive fighting skills.

The Fifth Element, The perfect being

As we have seen, director-writer Luc Besson has spent a good part of his career creating warrior women of various shades. From La Femme Nikita to The Messenger, he has romanticized, glorified, and even criticized these half-mythical, half-human creatures. In The Fifth Element (1997) Besson introduces to the screen Leeloo (Milla Jovovich), a sort of futurist Pippi Longstocking, who is described variously as “perfect,” “a supreme being,” and the salvation of humankind. As an irresistible evil in the form of a gaseous ball rushes towards Earth, scientists reconstitute from DNA the form of “the fifth element,” a being who with the other four elements (water, fire, earth, and air) can save the Earth and its inhabitants.

It is not accidental that in the early part of the movie the priests, who are involved in the ritual of salvation, and the scientists, who seek to reconstitute this being, all speak of the entity using masculine pronouns. For they are unable to break out of the cultural box, which assumes that, any thing with that power must be male. The scene where Leeloo is reconstructed by a machine underneath a plastic dome, using her perfect cells to replicate her body into its complete form is extremely reminiscent visually of the famous 1920’s silent sci-fi film Metropolis, where Maria (Brigette Helm) is encased under a similar dome while being transformed. She is even depicted wearing similar “thermal bandages.”

In many ways the rebirth of Leeloo is a satire on Barbarella’s opening sequence where the astronautrix does a striptease in space. Here Leeloo is also nude, at least initially, and does radiate that same naivete, having not yet absorbed the experiences of human life or even the language she needs to negotiate within her new environment. However, as the titillated general approaches, examining her body closely and talking to her as if she were a child (very much like the commander in Barbarella), Leeloo responds by pushing her fist through the supposedly impervious container and attacking the offending general. Where Maria in Metropolis lies passively under the dome, Leeloo acts like a wild animal, breaking free and escaping.

An innocent abroad in this world of the future, Leeloo sets about to absorb as much information as possible, evidenced by her rapid scanning of human history in the form of video lessons designed by her servant priest (Ian Holm). When she finally comes to the realization of her mission, to find the four stones which represent the other four elements, she enlists the aid of an alienated, bitter ex-military man—Dallas (Bruce Willis), a character right out of film noir. He falls for Leeloo immediately and forms an obsession which she rejects when he offends her by taking a kiss without her permission, as she tells him. She does, however, bend her rules a bit when Dallas proves himself by joining the quest for the stones.

In the battle to retrieve the stones, set in a luxury resort in outer space called Phloston, Leeloo is wounded after a Bruce Lee style fight where she is outnumbered. Dallas and her priest retrieve her and transport her to Egypt where the ritual must be performed. Leeloo, however, has become disillusioned with mankind and its penchant for violence and sees no purpose in completing the ritual. In a romantic ending, typical of Besson, Dallas places her at the center of the circle of stones and whispers to her that he loves her and that love is worth saving. And so she activates the stones and saves the world. The healing power of love, the theme in both La Femme Nikita and The Professional, is reaffirmed and Dallas is permitted to kiss his “goddess.”

Blade Runner, “More human than human”

One of the finest sci-fi films ever produced on many levels but particularly in regards to unusual emotional depth for the genre was Ridley Scott’s cyberpunk classic, Blade Runner (1982) inspired by Philip K. Dick’s 1968 book Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

Blade Runner imagines a decaying universe where the poor and disenfranchised are relegated to Earth in overcrowded cities on which the sun rarely shines and the rain falls constantly. This world in fact resembles the nightmarish vision of film noir of the forties, filled with menacing shadows, slick wet streets, detectives in trench coats—Deckard (Harrison Ford)—and femme fatales with padded shoulders—Rachael (Sean Young). Scott even utilizes icons of the forties in his most important scenes: downtown Los Angeles, Chinatown, and the Bradbury Building.

The rampant and often nihilistic view of commercialism portrayed in the film is reminiscent of author Chuck Palahniuk’s (Fight Club) alienated viewpoint of present-day society spinning out of control, reduced to a series of sound bites, hungry for artificially-created drama. Blimps overhead advertise sponsors that are “helping America into a New World,” laying bare an Illuminati-like occult system, reinforced by the pyramid structure that houses the Tyrell Corporation, the center of the ultimate commercialization—that of artificially created humans, known as “replicants.” According to Tyrell, “Commerce is our goal. More human than human is our motto.”

The replicants, however, have become rebellious against their maker’s purpose. They’ve developed emotional reactions of their own and do not wish to fulfill their destined place in the new world order. Foreseeing that independent thought might become a problem, Tyrell set them with a failsafe mechanism to insure their containment if necessary—their lifespan is only four years long. Replicants are weeded out from the human population by the Voight Kompf test which measures emotional reactions.

Deckard is the “Blade Runner” set to the task of “retiring” the replicants, referred to in slang as “skin-jobs.” The fact that euphemism is employed in speaking about the extermination of the replicants is interesting. The power of words in respect to repressing minorities has long been a weapon used by dominant cultures and races to maintain oppression. Euphemism hides things that are unpleasant or gruesome by reducing the tension related to association with the word. Deckard “retires” replicants because they are a hazard. This removes some of the morally reprehensible implications of the action, similar to dehumanizing racial terms employed in wars by the military. But this latent moral confusion begins to build for him, especially when the replicant Rachael asks him, “Have you ever killed a human by mistake, Mr. Deckard?”

The name Deckard is an interesting choice for the character, also. It is pronounced the same as famous philosopher René Descartes, who originated the philosophical creed of continental rationalism—that human reason is the source of all knowledge, rather than the idea that knowledge is based on our own observations and senses. This is very much a dilemma that is splitting Deckard down the middle. On one side stands Tyrell Corporation and all patriarchal authorities, on the other, the woman/replicant Rachael, who is so convincingly human that his own senses begin to conflict with his duties, which require him to hunt down and brutally kill another female replicant, Zhora (Joanna Cassidy), who was located at an establishment performing lewd acts by “taking the pleasures of the serpent” as an exotic dancer with artificial snakes.

There is really a great deal of feminist subtext in the film despite its initial misogynist appearance. Zhora was never shown performing her snake act on camera, which would have been tempting to do. Her act occurs off camera, but Deckard is shown watching, seeming unsure, and then pointedly turning away, to his drink. We are led to believe this reaction of his is of more importance. We do see her naked in the dressing room scene, but at this point she is shedding the accoutrements of her act, washing off the makeup and sequins. When Deckard begins to succumb to male tendency and tries to dry her with a towel, that is when she strikes and attacks with great viciousness.

Zhora’s death scene is considered by some to be almost erotic, breaking through all the glass panes in slow motion, her fetishistic see-through outfit glistening in the rain. However, what truly comes through seems to be shame. Deckard has shot her in the back. The fetishistic see-through outfit only serves to show even more clearly that she has been shot repeatedly in the back, and her boots which are designed to appeal to males only hobble her, making it difficult to run. Her face is shown in pain as she crashes through the windows. Interestingly enough, at the first shot she falls to the ground and we can see the feet of a man wearing black pants standing by, watching the scene very casually, neither afraid for his own safety or attempting to help the injured woman. She gets up and still tries to stagger away through the glass corridor which is incidentally a shop lined with mannequins behind the glass—replicas of women wearing sexy boots and outfits almost exactly like the one Zhora is wearing.

The final portion of the scene pans back and we see the mysterious man in the black suit again, with a matching hat on, pulled down to cover most of this face. Still he stands casually watching her horrible demise, hand in pocket. Who is this man? What does he represent? He may be the character Gaff, played by Edward James Olmos, whose importance wasn’t defined until the director’s cut was released. The background music inspires tones of sadness and Deckard does not appear in the least bit happy that he has “retired” a dangerous replicant. He is clearly distressed. The scene acts on him like the Voight Kompf test does that he performs on the replicants.

Deckard is also drawn to Rachael, seeing her tears he wants to comfort and protect her in the standard male savior model, despite his misgivings. When he takes time to do the research and question the authorities, he begins to empathize with their plight as replicants. They are implanted with false memories, which could be read as socially conditioned, programmed. But this knowledge, this awakening of independent thought appears to become overwhelming to Deckard. Later on during the love scene between Deckard and Rachael, he becomes forceful, angry. He shoves her around, pressing her up against a wall, as if desperate for emotional response. He tries to kiss her but pulls back; perhaps repelled by the thought of kissing something that might be empty, artificial, without human emotion. In a sense, he fights displacing blame for any lack of arousal onto her. He doesn’t want to accept her as inhuman. He wants her to be human so that he can connect. He is desperate to penetrate her on an emotional level and not be made inadequate, impotent. This could be part of why he turned away from Zhora during her erotic performance with the snake, mysteriously repelled. He feels inadequate with women, unable to connect emotionally, and of all women, a woman who performs sexual acts on a commercial level is implied to have the ability to shut off emotionally.

We also see old-fashioned photos of women lined up as if on an altar in his apartment, one of which Rachael picks up while Deckard is sleeping. His mother? The photo resembles Rachael a great deal right down to the style of dress. Rachael takes down her hair and looks at herself, comparing, blurring lines further. She plays his piano, which has a music book already opened up to a song that we must assume is sentimental. Deckard awakens and is made vulnerable by the maternal connection. He sits down beside her at the piano and tells her she plays beautifully, leaning over and kissing her (not confrontationally on the lips, but more worshipful, on the neck). But her response is cold, detached. Not only that, she gets up to leave. He cannot bear it. He grabs her forcefully and commands her to kiss him, commands her to say out loud that she wants him. She must initiate it. However violent Deckard appears pushing her around, he is actually so emotionally vulnerable at that moment that he is like a child. He cannot bear the thought of an empty shell of a woman. And that perhaps goes even deeper as his fantasy of a mother figure is so integral to his world. Rachael had shown him a picture of her mother before as evidence that she was human. If there is no mother figure, then he may be no different than the replicant Leon for instance, who can’t pass the Voight Kompf test in the beginning of the movie. Leon even shoots the interviewer when asked to talk about his mother.

It is in the Bradbury Building where another model of replicant woman/surrogate mother resides, at least temporarily. She is Pris (Daryl Hannah), described by the commander of the Blade Runner unit as “a basic pleasure model, the standard item for military clubs in the outer colonies.” Her incept date (birth date) is February 14, 2016—Valentine’s Day. Thus far all of the replicants were designed as slaves in some form or other. For the women, they are either intended for use as a prostitute, or in the case of Rachael, to be a different sort of slave—secretary to Tyrell. They have a male leader in Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer), though he is also a slave, programmed for leadership, though. Their true father is Tyrell.

Pris takes to dressing herself in punk anarchist style, painting her face and eyes like a dark clown, perhaps symbolic of her feelings about her position as a “pleasure model” created for the entertainment and use of military men in the off-world. All the replicants are immature in a sense, mere teenagers in their own short lifespans. Pris even speaks with an adorable innocence as a young girl to disarm men. Her power is in her youthful sexual allure, which she uses as effectively as combat. She is like a living doll, and even pretends to be a doll among the many toys at the home she is hiding out in when Deckard breaks in. In her final scenes she is very memorable for nearly killing Deckard by attempting to snap his neck between her powerful thighs. She appears almost grotesque at that point, like a crazed clown. She executes a number of acrobatic moves before being dispatched by a bullet to stomach, another symbolic move of disarming her of her sexuality by blasting away the female uterus.

Blade Runner ends differently on the director’s cut, without the “uplifting finale” of the first release. The emotional impact is stronger and the incorporation of the unicorn vision is further suggestive that Deckard himself is a replicant, in a subtle but shocking ending reminiscent of the ending of the movie Sixth Sense.

Starship Troopers, “You can’t step on these ones”

Director Paul Verhoeven purposely designed his campy Starship Troopers (1997) to resemble the science fiction serials of the forties, filled with overstated patriotism, corny emotions, and cliffhangers which defy reason. In this story of human versus alien bugs, there are two significant warrior women who are on opposite ends of the Amazon spectrum. Carmen Ibanez (Denise Richards) is a studious, intellectual, no-nonsense female who excels in school and eventually becomes a starship pilot. Carmen exemplifies the intellectual warrior woman who uses her intelligence and reason, rather than her physical skills, to fight the enemy. Dizzy Flores (Dina Meyer), on other hand, is more a palpable presence, sexually as well as combatively. She trains alongside the men, even showering with them. She glories in physical battle and so she is on the front line in the invasion of the alien fortresses. Both women are rivals for the love of the pro forma cardboard serial hero—Johnny (Casper Van Dien). Dizzy is of course much more direct in her pursuit of her sexual prey while Carmen demands time and persuasion in order to submit.

Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow

The filmmakers of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (2004) have created a unique science fiction movie which seems to be made in the thirties or forties, looking forward to a future which never came about, similar in many ways to William Cameron Menzies' Things to Come (1936). The two main warrior women in the film are the cyborg villain played by Bai Ling, and Franky Cook (Angelina Jolie), the fighter pilot who helps the ostensible hero (Jude Law) invade the island fortress of the evil Dr. Totenkopf. She dresses in a military uniform of the period and wears a patch over one eye to make her appear even more daring as well as to connect her to daredevil characters in the comics and serials of the thirties and forties.

In Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, Ling returns to the type of villainous role which established her career in America (most notably in The Crow). Dressed again in the height of fetish style (hood, goggles, and catsuit), she throws the hero Sky Captain (Jude Law) across the room, leads an army of robots who respond to her control, and defends her island fortress against discovery. It is only during her kendo-style battle with the Sky Captain that we discover that she is, in fact, a cyborg created by a mad doctor. Ling’s character (called “The Mysterious Woman”) even battles Franky Cook who leads a squadron of planes to aid the Sky Captain in his plan to destroy the island laboratory of the evil mastermind bent on world destruction.

Alien, Ripley faces the archaic mother

The image of Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) from the Alien (1979–1997) series will haunt warrior women films for the next two decades. Her strength, her cool reason, her ferocious maternal instincts—all have informed the creations of numerous warrior women to follow.

In Alien (1979), the first film in the series, director Ridley Scott does for Sigourney Weaver what he will do for Demi Moore in G.I. Jane eighteen years later. He strips his character of most of the trappings of cultural femininity in order to make her an equal and often superior soldier in a group of tough military men. She wears no make-up and sports cropped hair. She has tight control of her emotions, maintains a fit muscular body, and interacts with the men on the spaceship with almost no reference to her gender. In order to further emphasize her equality/superiority, Ridley inserts the character of Lambert (Veronica Cartwright), a crew member who displays the more traditional markers of femininity—indecision, emotionalism (she cries in several scenes), softer features, and a more mellifluous voice.

Ripley is, of course, the hero of this dramatic piece. When the spaceship is invaded by the alien, she is the one who keeps her composure and becomes the leader of the attack against the creature. She is also, to use Irene Karras’s term, “the final girl.” After the alien has destroyed the rest of the crew, she survives and launches a shuttle to escape the predator. Even when she discovers that the alien has hidden in the shuttle, she maintains her calm in the face of battle and ejects the alien into space.

In the sequel to Alien, Aliens (1986), director James Cameron works at two purposes simultaneously, that of “re-feminizing” Ripley while enhancing her prowess as a warrior. Ripley returns to space reluctantly to help rescue a group of colonists who may have been attacked by aliens similar to the one she defeated. Again her toughness, her composure in the face of danger, and keen intelligence serve her well as she becomes the ostensible leader of the group of Marines sent to “extract” the colonists.

Vasquez (Jenette Goldstein) plays another memorable character as a muscular, combative Latina grunt who doesn’t back down from anything. When a macho cohort asks her if she was ever mistaken for a man, she replies pointedly, “No. Have you?” When she first encounters Ripley she mutters, “Who’s Snow White?” She acts as a counterweight to the more mellow Ripley.

While on the colony the party finds a young girl—Newt (Carrie Henn)—who has survived the massacre of her family by the aliens. She forms an attachment to Ripley and Ripley responds by taking on the role of her surrogate mother. Ripley’s mixed feelings about motherhood are explored relentlessly in symbolic sense throughout all of the films.

Probably the most telling scene is Ripley’s confrontation with the alien mother in her nest, based like the entire series on the designs of H. R. Giger. The two “mothers” confront each other in a chamber which resembles a primal womb more than any spaceship hold. It is wet, dark, and oozes fluid. During the scene Cameron often frames the mother alien and Ripley in two-shots as Ripley defends her “adopted” child Newt as fiercely as the alien defends her brood. “Get away from her, you bitch” is one of the famous catch phrases of the movie.

Alien3 becomes darker as the ship carrying Ripley ends up on a remote planet inhabited only by male prisoners of a penal colony. She finds out the worst horror has happened, her own body contains one of the embryonic aliens, which will eventually grow and burst out and end her existence (a sort of ultimate maternal pregnancy fear). Her femininity is stripped away yet again in response and her head is memorably shaved before she ends up making the ultimate sacrifice.

Dark Angel, “Engineered to raise hell”

James Cameron of Aliens and Terminator fame brought to the screen another haunted “third wave” teen warrior, in the form of Jessica Alba in Dark Angel (2000–2002). Alba plays Max Guevera (in a not-too-subtle homage to revolutionary Che Guevara), a genetically enhanced human prototype who has escaped, along with a number of her fellow “transgenics,” from the government facility Manticore where they were scientifically engineered and trained. Max like her “brothers and sisters” possesses superhuman powers designed to make them ideal warriors. The world Max inhabits is nightmarish, filled with dark city spaces and 1984-style government repression.

The audience first sees Max in a series of shots dressed in black as she speeds on her sleek motorcycle through the streets of a wet and dark Seattle, ending up on top of the Space Needle were she crouches like a feline, wary and alert. Max too, like so many female warriors of this last decade, draws her visual look from the Goth/fetish world, with a little bit of Catwoman thrown in for good measure. Her outfits are tight fitting and most often black. She favors leather, latex and vinyl, emphasizing her speed, power, as well as her feline dimensions.

Max is a child of the streets, of the hip-hop generation. She alternates between a standard English dialect and a ghettoese depending on to whom she is speaking. She expresses only disdain for the power structure (symbolized by the deeply flawed Lydecker—John Savage—and the brutal White—Martin Cummins) which created her and her “siblings” and so feels no qualms in using violence to defeat them. Her loyalties are to her “freak” outsider friends (the final episode where Max, her friends and the transgenics defend their Terminal City from the government is in fact called “Freak Nation”).

Max’s best friend, Original Cindy (Valarie Rae Miller), is a lesbian; her “siblings” transgenics; and her “lover” a crippled, virus-ridden intellectual (Logan—Michael Weatherly) who runs a pirate, anti-government transmitting station. Max, like any typical Goth heroine, has her own demons. She has a difficult time controlling both her anger and her sexuality. Because of her altered DNA she has intense emotions and hormonal shifts. She even goes into heat like a cat because of her “feline DNA.” This makes it difficult for her to remain faithful to her off again/on again boyfriend Logan. She fears overwhelming the fragile Logan with her sexuality but, in addition, she feels guilt for having been indirectly responsible for both his physical handicap (he was paralyzed while defending Max’s charge) and the virus he contracted which was enhanced by his contact with Max’s explosive DNA.

The lead males in Dark Angel, much like those in Buffy, fall into two categories: vulnerable, sensitive men who are never enough for the powerful warrior women of the series (Logan in Dark Angel and Riley in Buffy fall into this category) or they are unreliable “bad boys” who will ultimately cause the heroine more grief than satisfaction (Angel and Spike in Buffy; Alec in Dark Angel). In this way the writers of the shows make very definite third wave feminist statements about men. Be wary of them but do not shun them as their feminist mothers might have done. They are a legitimate mode of sexual expression when they can be tamed as well as companions when they can be trusted. Alec (Jensen Ackles), designed as her mate by Manticore and named by Max because she considers him a “smart aleck,” alternates between destructive and supportive behavior. He relieves her sexual tension on several occasions; but he also infects her with a virus on orders from the government. He eventually joins her rebellion but continues to “hit on” attractive women, even in her presence.

In the last episode of the series, Alec joins Max in her rebellion in Terminal City. There the transgenics and friends hold off the army of extermination led by White. In the final scenes Max joins hands with Logan, choosing, at least for the moment, the sensitive man as her companion in battle.

Trinity of The Matrix series

One cannot underestimate the influence of The Matrix series (premiering in 1999) on action movies in both style and philosophy. Admittedly the films draw heavily on Blade Runner as well as German expressionistic classics like Metropolis for their visual style as well as assimilating Hong Kong action films for its superhuman fighting sequences. But all that said, the Wachowski Brothers have managed to blend these elements brilliantly while, at the same time, adding a few of their own to create a unique eclectic trilogy. Biblical allusions abound (Zion, Trinity, Nebuchadnezzar, Neo as messiah, the Oracle) as do historical references to African-American history, reinforced by the significant number of black actors in the movie.

In addition, the Wachowski Brothers pepper their dialogue with zen-like koans as they lead their viewers through a complex discussion of the meaning of love, choice, and existence. And, finally, although the style of the movies owe much to expressionist films of the past, the Wachowskis have infused the films with their own predilection for the world of fetish, seen most obviously in the outfits for the characters—with their emphasis on leather and vinyl, black boots, high heels, flowing trench coats, and narrow shades—but also evident in the ritualistic orgy scene in The Matrix Reloaded (2003) and in the bondage club in The Matrix Revolutions (2003).

Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss) is of course the key woman warrior in this trilogy, although in parts two and three Captain Niobe (Jada Pinkett) comes into her own also. Trinity, along with the “chosen one” Neo (Keanu Reeves) and the prophet/warrior Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne), acts as point person in the battle against the virtual world of the Matrix, which has managed to gain control of the minds of the majority of humans. Her skill as a martial arts fighter as well as a weapons expert is demonstrated over and over again in the numerous battle sequences against the machines as well as the “agents” of the Matrix. She is intense in her devotion to the cause as well as in her love of Neo. When Persephone (Monica Bellucci), the dominatrix wife of Merovingian, demands a kiss of Neo in order to guide him to the Keymaker, Trinity responds with anger. When Neo’s life is at risk in both Reloaded and Revolutions she does not pause in facing death to save him and in fact gives her life twice for her love, the first time resurrected by the healing powers of Neo.

If the final message of The Matrix is, as many believe, that love and sacrifice is the ultimate power against evil, not violence, then Trinity is the emotional core of the trilogy. She never wavers in her support of Neo. He tells her repeatedly that he needs her and that she is his center. Her final sacrifice in Revolutions facilitates the destruction of the Matrix itself and the concomitant liberation of humanity.

Star Wars’ two female protagonists: mother, sister, princess, queen, senator, and warrior too

The universe George Lucas has manufactured with his six-part Star Wars epic is for the most part aimed at young males. Its emphasis on video game style action sequences, its almost complete lack of mature sexuality, its stiff dialogue, and of course its two young protagonists—Anakin (Hayden Christensen) in the first three episodes and Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) in the second three—make it a world in which women are either figuratively or literally mothers or, at best, sisters, even when they are romantic interests. Though Jedi warrior women are said to exist, they are rarely ever shown. The only two significant warrior women in the Star Wars series are Padme Amidala (Natalie Portman) and her daughter Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher).

Padme Amidala was elected queen of the planet Naboo at fourteen. She defended her home against the invading Neimoidians, leading the attack against her own palace where the Neimoidian viceroy had taken up residence. After serving her term as queen, she became a senator in the Republic, the federation of planets which governed the galaxy. Although she tried to preach compromise and reason, the disarray within the federation, prompted by dark forces intent on establishing a dictatorship, led her to doubt the senate’s effectiveness.

Padme acted as a mother figure to the boy Anakin who was discovered by the Jedi knights and touted as “the chosen one.” Ten years later Anakin became Padme’s bodyguard as the dark forces made several attempts on her life. Although she resisted, Anakin pressed his displaced oedipal love upon her. Eventually she relented after witnessing his torment over her rejection of him as well as his grief and anger after the murder of his mother. She voyaged to Geonosis with Anakin to rescue the Jedi Obi-Wan from the Separatists. They were captured but bravely defeated a series of beasts set upon them in an arena. Padme ultimately gave birth to twins: Leia and Luke. However, she lost her lover to the dark side as Anakin became the feared Darth Vader.

Leia Organa was the daughter of Padme and Anakin and the sister of Luke Skywalker. She was raised in the royal house of Alderaan unaware of the identity of her father or her brother. Trained as a princess she entered the Imperial Senate but was secretly aligned with the rebels who were fighting the forces of the Emperor. Captured by the imperial forces, Leia endured torture, supervised by her father Darth Vader, but refused to give up the location of the rebels or their plans to destroy the empire’s secret weapon—the Death Star.

Like her mother, Leia was a determined, forthright and somewhat sassy woman who refuses to yield to any man, even when in love. She had a brief flirtation with Luke Skywalker, again reinforcing the quasi-incestuous themes which run through the series. But in the end she married the cynical although loyal Han Solo. She later rescued her love from the hands of Jabba the Hutt, whom she strangles with the chain he had used to bind her as a slave. Leia continued her struggle against the empire and eventually discovered the true identity of her brother, father, and mother.

The Terminator series

James Cameron made yet another foray into the universe of the warrior woman with The Terminator (1984) and Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991). In both these films Cameron and his co-writer Gale Hurd trace the character arc of their heroine, Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton), from timid single woman to intimidating fighter, eventually even a match for the cyborg terminators sent from the future to destroy her.

Our first glimpses of Sarah in The Terminator type her as victim. She exudes insecurity and fragile femininity in her appearance and in her choice of jobs, working as a waitress, a service position traditionally associated with females. When pursued at night by the Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger), she panics, unable to come up with a means to defend herself. Eventually she is rescued by a freedom fighter—Kyle (Michael Biehn), also sent from the past to defend her. When he is wounded in the struggle, she is even terrified of bandaging him, admitting to her fear of blood. In total Sarah is the classic weak-willed female of the eighties in need of a strong male figure to rely on and to love. She makes stupid moves like calling her mother at a crucial time, therefore giving away their location.

But as the film progresses and her defender Kyle dies, Sarah begins to unearth the warrior within. Discovering that she is carrying a child who will defend the earth against the machines which will rule it in a post-apocalyptic future, she gathers up her strength and faces the seemingly invincible Terminator, crushing him in a hydraulic press and then heading for Mexico to give birth to the savior of humanity.

By Terminator 2, Sarah has evolved into a full-fledged fighter. While training with guerrillas in Latin America, she has developed a formidably muscular body as well as an impressive skill with an arsenal of weapons. Housed in a mental institution because of her belief that a nuclear war, precipitated by the machines, is about to occur, she escapes from the institution, “taking down” several of the guards as well as her psychiatrist without a backward glance.

Meeting up again with her young son John (Edward Furlong), who is now protected by a reprogrammed terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger again) against other newer terminators, Sarah has become a fighting machine not unlike the cyborgs she battles. In developing this warrior persona however, Sarah has lost her emotional connection to her son. By the end of the film she regains it only after she is able to cry and so, in the minds of the audience, recapture a quality traditionally associated with females on screen.

By Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines, Sarah has died and her son has grown up a haunted, alienated man with visions of a post-apocalyptic world. The primary female warrior in this sequel is the Terminatrix (read: dominatrix), played by model-actress Kristanna Loken. The Terminatrix is the most advanced cyborg yet, far superior to the older model (Schwarzenegger), a fact that works ironically both within and without the movie as aging action hero Schwarzenegger seems much less energetic and macho in this second sequel.

As soon as The Terminatrix transports herself into the world of the past she immediately adopts the symbols of aggressive female sexuality: a red leather outfit, black boots, a sports car, and larger breasts. She then proceeds to cause mayhem wherever she goes. The Terminator is no match for her, as he himself admits, and ends up decapitated by a blow from her boot heel. Even her final destruction, which is predictable in a genre movie of this kind, can only be accomplished by detonating a nuclear device which destroys not only her but the original Terminator as well.

External Links

Limelight Editions

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Excerpted from The Modern Amazons: Warrior Women On-Screen by Dominique Mainon and James Ursini and published by Limelight Editions 2006 (distributed by Hal Leonard Corporation). Used by permission of Limelight Editions. The book is available in all bookstores nationally and at all online resellers, as well as at www.limelighteditions.com or by calling 1-800-637-2852. For retailer inquiries, please contact the distributor, Hal Leonard Corporation, at 414-774-3630 or sales@halleonard.com.