The debate goes something like this; the girls posit that Mr. Darcy is awesome. He’s proud and haughty on the outside, but deep down he is good and kind. His pride and Elizabeth’s pride make them a dynamic, and ultimately swoon-worthy match. I contend that Mr. Knightley is a more desirable hero. When Emma is behaving badly, he mans-up and tells her about herself. Mr. Knightley makes Emma better. This has led to some lively conversation and some very unfair criticism of Jeremy Northam’s nose. I think what’s going on, though, is the battle we ladies have been having with ourselves for generations. Good guy vs. Bad boy. Reliable and steady vs. Rebellious and dangerous.
Think about our favorite movie guys…Gee, Joe Fox, I know your conglomerate book store is going to put my humble shop out of business, but I sure do love you. Jason Bourne, you may not know who you are, or why you’re #1 with a bullet, but given the choice between you and the Paris police, I choose you! Oh, Danny Ocean, you only lied about being a thief, and even knowing that you robbed three casinos in one night, I can’t help but wait for you to be released on parole. Again.
Even in the 1930’s, CK Dexter Haven, wealthy, divorced alcoholic, stole the girl from George Kittredge, self-made mining scion. (If you haven’t seen The Philadelphia Story, put it on your Netflix queue. I’ll wait.)
Would Lost have been anywhere near as compelling if all the hot guys on the island weren’t in need of redemption?
And then there’s the worst offender of all, the one who ruined me for sure…John Preston, a man so bad we didn’t even learn his name until the closing scene of the series finale. Mr. Big, emotionally unavailable, model-izer, cheater, “the boy who cried love.” But those faults were far from our minds as we watched him pursue Carrie to Paris and declare, “You’re the one.”
That’s what we’re all hoping for, isn’t it? The declaration of, “I’ve been an idiot. I’ve done bad things, but for you, I will be better.” We want to be the one worth changing for. If it takes us years of heartbreak and drama to get there, so be it.
Maybe, at the root of this love for bad boys, there is a longing for adventure—a desire to be part of a great narrative. And if that is what my young friends are hoping their futures will bring, then I am no one to argue.
