Nancy Wheeler: feminist, existentialist, badass
Spoilers to follow.
Fans of Stranger Things took to the internet in droves to collectively lose their shit over Barbara Holland, a character who lasted approximately four episodes. Barb’s narrative function is to drive an anachronistic vehicle and switch from nepotistically supporting her friend Nancy’s newfound popularity to jealousy condemning Nancy’s forays into teenaged pursuits incongruous with her Wes Anderson aesthetic.
The character we should all collectively be losing our shit over is none other than the tragically overlooked and (pun-intended) glossed-over Nancy Wheeler. Nancy is the existential feminist hero we’ve always wanted. The Duffer brothers have given Nancy Wheeler unprecedented agency; it is her ability to shirk expectation and forge her own path which ultimately helps her to navigate the unsettling landscape of Hawkins, Indiana.
“The character we should all collectively be losing our shit over is none other than the tragically overlooked and (pun-intended) glossed-over Nancy Wheeler.”
Several characters throughout the course of the show create their own preferred vision of Nancy Wheeler. From her romantic interests (both reciprocated and unreciprocated) to her best friend, Nancy consistently fails to live up to any expectation other than her own. The people around her give Nancy an extremely narrow range of acceptable actions and become irrationally upset with her when she can’t operate within those parameters. To Barb, she is supposed to be static nerdy girl best friend. Barb means well, but she has difficulties accepting that Nancy might be starting to want different things and different people around her. Conversely, Nancy balances her love for her best friend Barb—contrary to popular opinion, she searches for her until her confirmed death—and her fledgling love for Steve.
During one such occasion, when Nancy heads upstairs to change out of her wet clothes at Steve’s house, Barb says, “This isn’t you.” It could be just me, but I’m pretty sure nobody should be in the business of telling other people who they are. Nancy tells Barb to “just go home,” proving that nobody gets to tell her what kind of girl she is. Barb scoffs, heads outside to pout on the diving board, and is promptly murdered by the Demogorgon.
Rather than explicitly asking Nancy what—or who—she wants, Steve and Jonathan project romantic ideals upon Nancy and expect her to meet them. In episode five, “The Flea and the Acrobat,” Nancy and Jonathan, allied in their quest to recover missing loved ones, discuss the night that Barb disappeared. Jonathan, to excuse his extremely creepy and wildly inappropriate photographs of Nancy changing out of her wet clothes at Steve’s party, explains that he “Saw this girl trying to be someone else…” He continues, “You were alone… you thought you could be yourself.” Nancy looks at him, walks ahead and calls back over her shoulder, “That is such bullshit.”
“Contrary to his lame and sexist belief, young women can try new things.”
Here, Nancy refuses to let Jonathan claim Nancy’s selfhood for his own. Contrary to his lame and sexist belief, young women can try new things. New things can include exploring sexual agency with the cute—albeit often idiotic—Steve. We see over and over again that nobody gets to tell Nancy who she is.
Perhaps Jonathan’s misplaced and inappropriate concern stems from some kind of puritanical claim over her virtue, similar to Barb’s attempt at gatekeeping her sexuality. Perhaps Jonathan is afraid Steve will, like a vaudeville villain, take her virtue and leave. Nancy, however, decides time and time again when she wants and with whom she wants to engage in sexual activity.
Similarly, when Steve comes around to her house uninvited and peers into her bedroom one night, he misunderstands Nancy and Jonathan’s intentions after Nancy undergoes an ordeal in the Upside Down. Rather than talk to Nancy about what he believes is an infidelity, or break up with her for it, he and his friends write derogatory messages about her on the town’s cinema marquee, calling her “Nancy the Slut Wheeler.” Again, rather than meekly accepting this label or ignoring it, she confronts Steve and demands he clean it off.
Nancy’s greatest strength is to do the exact opposite of what every other character thinks she should or will do. She’s a better shot than Jonathan, wields a bat with ease, dives into the Upside Down with flagrant disregard for her mortal state of being, forgives Steve for being an asshole and Jonathan for taking intimate photos of her without her consent. She’s a badass, but she is also a teenaged girl in patterned sweaters. She wears a cute new shirt to Steve’s party, she shotguns a beer, she studies for her science tests, she fights with her mom, all while prioritizing her herself and her single-minded determination to follow her gut.
Photo courtesy of Netflix.