Fleabag’s sardonic ‘Main Character Syndrome’ of Difficult women
Do you ever catch yourself dramatically looking outside the train window as if you were the main character in a coming-of-age film? Or have you ever thought that while you’re busy doing your own thing, everyone is staring at you? That’s just a manifestation of this thing called “main character syndrome.”
Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s sarcastic anti-hero, Fleabag embodies this idea perfectly. The protagonist breaks the fourth wall and directly talks to the audience, sharing her inner thoughts, and providing witty and often self-deprecating commentary on her experiences. This dark, quick-witted, and chaotic series offers comfort to women who consistently make bad decisions. Fleabag’s sardonic ‘Main Character Syndrome’ of difficult women makes us feel seen, as we all try to navigate life.
Morally Unhinged and Flawed
What makes Fleabag so refreshing is that it’s the first ever of its kind, it’s an entirely fresh comedic take on complicated women. Waller-Bridge’s sharp and clever dialogue, combined with an honest portrayal of the complex protagonist, creates a relatable character. The series effectively balances moments of humor and levity with emotional depth and vulnerability. Women get the chance to be as morally unhinged, crass, and flawed as they’d like to be on television.
“I think I was really inspired by the cynicism I was feeling in my twenties, and also wanting to play a character I could really relate to. And also a touch of female rage.”
(Waller-Bridge, 2019)
“Fleabag” tackles a wide range of themes, including grief, family dynamics, relationships, feminism, and identity. The series portrays her struggles with intimacy, self-worth, and the aftermath of personal tragedies.
The Female Experience
Fleabag is a coming-of-age story that women rarely get—it comments distinctly on the ins and outs of the female experience. Although it does not claim to be universal, it shows that she is by no means a perfect, archetypal character. She first presents as someone who is in control of her narrative: a cosmopolitan, single woman, living in London, sleeping with whomever she pleases.
But cracks quickly appear in this facade. Fleabag’s willingness to engage in hookup culture on the term of traditional heterosexuality is not an endorsement of sexist norms. It is her way of coping with grief, filling the void in her life left by her mother and best friend’s death. Her honesty about the nature of her desire makes the show feel so original. Rarely we see a heroine so open about seeking sex for validation and so unwilling to apologize for it. It portrayed women in their complicated, difficult glory.
Yes, Fleabag is deeply flawed, but aren’t we all?
The interplay between pain and humor is also on point. We learn things through brash, unfiltered, uncomfortable conversations. One particular scene perfectly captures this plethora of emotions.
When Fleabag turns up at her estranged father’s house at three in the morning on the verge of tears, blurting, “I have a horrible feeling that I’m a greedy, perverted, selfish, apathetic, cynical, depraved, morally bankrupt woman who can’t even call herself a feminist.” This heart-wrenching line boils over to the painfully funny when her father follows with a dash of apathetic wit: “Well darling, you get all that from your mother.”
Fleabag: A cathartic and comforting narrative
What makes this story so compelling is its way of finding humor within human pain. And to be honest, I seriously can’t get enough of it. Its dash of wit, cuss words, and emotional diatribes woven in and out of the show’s narrative makes the storytelling effective.
Fleabag’s dysfunctional tale is one of catharsis and learning. Once we reach the end, we’re saddened to leave Fleabag, or more so, to see her leave us. Every time she turns to say something to us, we can’t help but see a bit of ourselves smirking back at us. But at least, she finally learns to let us go, and to no longer be detached from the people around her.
