Kill Your Darlings
Whether we love them or hate them, villains have always been a compelling part of any story. In earlier storytelling, villains were often portrayed as mad, irredeemable figures. You weren’t meant to understand them, you were just meant to root against them. Over time, our approach to villains evolved. Writers started adding depth, context, and motivation. We get to see the other side of the villains’ histories, their pressures, and their perspectives. Characters like Azula from Avatar: The Last Airbender show us that villains can be just as complex as heroes. She’s terrifying but she is also shaped by pressure, manipulation, and a desperate need for approval. This works for her because her character arc is an integral part of the story; she is likeable but we still hold her accountable. What happens when we are asked to simply feel for a villain without any accountability?
Today, villains are often written to be fully three-dimensional. We understand their motives and we get see how they became who they are. In some cases, we are even encouraged to sympathise with them, sometimes to the point where we root for them. Don’t get me wrong, this often makes them even more fascinating, but does it also make us too forgiving? Maleficent is a good example of this. It’s a compelling film with a strong premise, but it raises the uncomfortable question: are we going too far? While we have this added insight and understanding, does it also ask us to overlook too much?
Take Maleficent again. Her anger toward the king makes sense. Her desire for revenge feels very justified. But does that justify cursing an innocent child? Probably not. The film draws us in and makes us care about her. Admittedly, I even grew to love her but the curse she places is still a horrific act. We’re seeing more and more reinterpretations of classic villains. Even Cinderella’s stepsisters are getting their own retellings. The idea is to show us their side of the story, to add nuance where there once was none. This humanises these traditionally one-dimensional villains. While this adds depth, it also complicates our moral understanding. How far can we understand someone before we start excusing their behaviour? Because at the end of the day, empathy doesnt erase harm but it can blur the line. That’s the tricky part. It shouldn't, but it often causes us to soften our judgement.
Maybe part of the issue is perspective. Are we watching Sleeping Beauty, or are we watching Maleficent? Because, depending on where we stand, the story and the villain look very different. The same shift in perspective happens outside fiction too. We judge others by their actions, but we judge ourselves by our intentions. When looking at our own behaviour, we give weight to our reasons, our emotions, and our circumstances. Being aware of this self-serving bias allows us to have empathy and grace for others. And while this is good as people are rarely as simple as ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ some actions are just… bad. No justification, no nuance, no mistake, just a shitty thing. We have to be able to be honest with ourselves. Intentions matter, but they do not erase the impact.
So where do we draw the line? How far can someone go before they become irredeemable? We all make mistakes and we are all affected by our circumstances and emotions. Most of us know when we are doing something wrong, but at what point does a “good person who made a mistake” become just a bad person? Is it the severity of the act, the number of times it happens, or the person's attitude towards what they've done? Maybe it’s personal. And on the other hand, can this ‘bad’ person become a better person, or do they remain irredeemable based on this thing forever? Maybe redemption is personal too. Maybe it depends on what the people affected are willing or able to forgive. Or maybe it comes down to accountability. Owning what you’ve done, actively working to make things right and trying to do better. But even then, forgiveness is not guaranteed and it shouldn’t be. Taking accountability also means accepting that there may still be consequences. If someone does everything right and is still not forgiven, does that make their efforts meaningless?
It’s impossible to talk about redemption without mentioning Zuko. His arc is one of the most compelling in modern storytelling. He makes harmful choices, hurts people, and struggles deeply with his identity. But what makes him redeemable? Is it because we see early on that he’s not truly cruel? Or is it because, despite repeated setbacks, he chooses to change and proves it through his actions? Even then, despite how much he tries to repair the damage, not everyone in his world would forgive him. To some people, he will always be the villain in their story, and in many ways, that's understandable.
Compare that with Ozai. There’s no ambiguity, no meaningful attempt at change, no accountability. He remains, simply, a villain.
And then there’s Azula, who sits somewhere in between. We understand her. We empathise with her. We can trace the path that led her to become who she is. But understanding her pain doesn’t make her actions acceptable. Tragedy is not the same as redemption but we still feel for her. Maybe that’s why she remains such a fascinating character.
In the end, perhaps the most compelling villains aren’t the ones we can easily hate. They’re the ones who force us to wrestle with uncomfortable questions about accountability, empathy, and human nature. Understanding someone shouldn’t absolve them. Maybe the real question is whether I'm confusing empathy with forgiveness. And does accountability bridge the gap?
Because while empathy helps us understand people, understanding isn't the same as forgiveness. Perhaps accountability is what determines whether a villain remains a villain…or becomes something more.
