The Babygirl-ification of Grown Men
By Olivia Ring
September 11, 2024
Graphic by Caroline Clark
We say “she’s just a girl” to defend our favorite female characters.
Fans of Succession, however, have co-opted this phrase to defend their favorite sad men.
He blackmails people for his own personal gain. “He’s just a girl.” He committed vehicular manslaughter. “He’s just a girl.” He’s an awful person. “But, he’s just a girl.”
Though, Kendall Roy is, in fact, not “just a girl.” He is a 40-year-old man.
The way that (primarily teenage) audiences of “Succession” have embraced Kendall Roy as their cringe-fail-loser-babygirl is really interesting to me. I like Kendall. I think he’s an extremely well written, complex character. But… fans have made a plethora of fan edits, overlayed with songs by Mitski and Phoebe Bridgers. Kendall has become the center of the show for a lot of its teenage audience.
This presents a slightly troubling dichotomy. If Kendall is as “babygirl” as the fan edits suggest and characters like his sister, Shiv, challenge him, we may be inclined to be far more judgmental towards her. This is true despite the fact that Shiv is sometimes justified in going against him and that Kendall is, arguably, equally as bad. While Kendall gets showered with love, praise, and adoration from the show’s fans, Shiv gets think pieces written about why she’s the worst character in “Succession.” Why are we so inclined to defend and actively support male characters in narratives where we should actively root against them at times? What is it about them?
This “babygirl-ification” isn’t just present among the “Succession” fandom, although the same happens with Tom and Roman. I’ve seen people treat other deeply flawed, complicated male characters similarly — characters like Anakin Skywalker or any Cillian Murphy role. I think this treatment of male characters who make terrible decisions, yet show emotional vulnerability at certain moments, can cause audiences to fall into the “I could fix him” trap.
For those of you unfamiliar, here’s a short breakdown of the “I could fix him” trap: In the viewer’s head they’re the Bella Swan-adjacent (Y/N) “rescuing” and “healing” the deeply emotionally wounded Edward Cullen (Insert Babygirl-ified Character Here). If (Y/N) lived in the Star Wars universe, Anakin’s fate would have ended differently. If (Y/N) lived in the Succession universe, they would have made sure that Kendall became CEO.
I don’t think this is a reach, either. I googled “I could fix him” and it took me a very, very short scroll to find images of both Anakin and Kendall under the tag. In fact, if you wanted to, you could purchase merchandise of both Kendall and Anakin with the phrase “I could fix him” photoshopped underneath their faces superimposed into a heart frame.
By claiming that you can fix these men, you also unintentionally absolve them from the responsibility of their actions. And, although these men are fictional, the way we view fiction reflects our perception of reality. We cannot free men from the guilt of their actions simply because we think we could fix them. That is not a healthy way of approaching relationships with real, living people.
Now, admittedly, there are characters that I am guilty of embracing as cringe-fail-loser-babygirls. Characters like Mr. Darcy from “Pride and Prejudice” (2005) and Laurie from “Little Women” (2019). I have even shared Kendall Roy fan edits to songs by Mitski and Phoebe Bridgers. I posted a picture of Kendall Roy saying “Fuck you! It’s my birthday!” on my birthday. So, I feel like I have a voice among this niche crowd, even with holding the belief that every character should be held responsible for the decisions they make — no matter how serious or unserious a work of fiction may be.
Your love for Kendall Roy should not exist at the expense of acknowledging that he is just as bad as the other characters on “Succession.” Your love for a male fictional character should not be so strong that you feel compelled to write negative think pieces on the female characters that exist alongside them. While I have very serious character biases within the media that I consume, I aim to acknowledge the fact that the characters that I love fuck up. A lot! You do not need to absolve a character of their mistakes and their flaws to appreciate them. Complexity makes a character human. “Fixing” them only reduces them to an abstract figure in your head. ■
Fans of Succession, however, have co-opted this phrase to defend their favorite sad men.
He blackmails people for his own personal gain. “He’s just a girl.” He committed vehicular manslaughter. “He’s just a girl.” He’s an awful person. “But, he’s just a girl.”
Though, Kendall Roy is, in fact, not “just a girl.” He is a 40-year-old man.
The way that (primarily teenage) audiences of “Succession” have embraced Kendall Roy as their cringe-fail-loser-babygirl is really interesting to me. I like Kendall. I think he’s an extremely well written, complex character. But… fans have made a plethora of fan edits, overlayed with songs by Mitski and Phoebe Bridgers. Kendall has become the center of the show for a lot of its teenage audience.
This presents a slightly troubling dichotomy. If Kendall is as “babygirl” as the fan edits suggest and characters like his sister, Shiv, challenge him, we may be inclined to be far more judgmental towards her. This is true despite the fact that Shiv is sometimes justified in going against him and that Kendall is, arguably, equally as bad. While Kendall gets showered with love, praise, and adoration from the show’s fans, Shiv gets think pieces written about why she’s the worst character in “Succession.” Why are we so inclined to defend and actively support male characters in narratives where we should actively root against them at times? What is it about them?
This “babygirl-ification” isn’t just present among the “Succession” fandom, although the same happens with Tom and Roman. I’ve seen people treat other deeply flawed, complicated male characters similarly — characters like Anakin Skywalker or any Cillian Murphy role. I think this treatment of male characters who make terrible decisions, yet show emotional vulnerability at certain moments, can cause audiences to fall into the “I could fix him” trap.
For those of you unfamiliar, here’s a short breakdown of the “I could fix him” trap: In the viewer’s head they’re the Bella Swan-adjacent (Y/N) “rescuing” and “healing” the deeply emotionally wounded Edward Cullen (Insert Babygirl-ified Character Here). If (Y/N) lived in the Star Wars universe, Anakin’s fate would have ended differently. If (Y/N) lived in the Succession universe, they would have made sure that Kendall became CEO.
I don’t think this is a reach, either. I googled “I could fix him” and it took me a very, very short scroll to find images of both Anakin and Kendall under the tag. In fact, if you wanted to, you could purchase merchandise of both Kendall and Anakin with the phrase “I could fix him” photoshopped underneath their faces superimposed into a heart frame.
By claiming that you can fix these men, you also unintentionally absolve them from the responsibility of their actions. And, although these men are fictional, the way we view fiction reflects our perception of reality. We cannot free men from the guilt of their actions simply because we think we could fix them. That is not a healthy way of approaching relationships with real, living people.
Now, admittedly, there are characters that I am guilty of embracing as cringe-fail-loser-babygirls. Characters like Mr. Darcy from “Pride and Prejudice” (2005) and Laurie from “Little Women” (2019). I have even shared Kendall Roy fan edits to songs by Mitski and Phoebe Bridgers. I posted a picture of Kendall Roy saying “Fuck you! It’s my birthday!” on my birthday. So, I feel like I have a voice among this niche crowd, even with holding the belief that every character should be held responsible for the decisions they make — no matter how serious or unserious a work of fiction may be.
Your love for Kendall Roy should not exist at the expense of acknowledging that he is just as bad as the other characters on “Succession.” Your love for a male fictional character should not be so strong that you feel compelled to write negative think pieces on the female characters that exist alongside them. While I have very serious character biases within the media that I consume, I aim to acknowledge the fact that the characters that I love fuck up. A lot! You do not need to absolve a character of their mistakes and their flaws to appreciate them. Complexity makes a character human. “Fixing” them only reduces them to an abstract figure in your head. ■
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