Cos’è il Good For Her Cinematic Universe?

In the final scene of Knives Out (2019), the protagonist of the ensemble cast, Ana De Armas, looks down from the balcony of the Thrombey estate, the family whose fortune she has just inherited. After a series of investigations conducted by private detective Benoît Blanc, played by the charming Daniel Craig, it is discovered that the famous mystery writer whom the girl was caring for left all his assets to her instead of to a group of cynical and selfish family members. In their own way, they even tried to get rid of her to ensure she wouldn’t receive a single cent of their fortune, only to end up being thrown out of the house while the young woman drinks from her new mug, which reads: My House, My Rules, My Coffee (intentionally covering the last two phrases and particularly emphasizing ‘My House’). The film, written and directed by Rian Johnson, has become a saga that continued in 2022 and is set to return in 2025. Its final scene perfectly encapsulates the essence of the "Good for Her" Cinematic Universe. It is the clearest and most illustrative example of a subgenre that has gained more and more traction in mainstream culture. A narrative thread in which the woman who prevails does not necessarily escape from a murderer or certain death, as happens in a specific branch of horror (the slasher), but rather a type of film where, after everything that happens to her, things can only turn for the better. This does not necessarily imply a happy ending, but rather an awareness that the character has moved from her initial state at the beginning of the film to an ending that is the best she could have hoped for—whether she acted rightly or, at times, even wrongly.

The definition of the Good for Her Cinematic Universe was first coined in reference to the character of Lucille Bluth in the comedy series Arrested Development. Played by Jessica Walter, the matriarch of the series created by Mitchell Hurwitz responds with the phrase “Good for her” to a news story on TV about a tired and stressed woman who let her car sink into a lake. While the comment says a lot about Lucille's characterization—absurd and questionable, just like all the members of the Arrested Development family (and for that reason, irresistible)—its transformation into a meme through social media has helped to convey a particular message over time. The idea of rooting for and feeling personally satisfied when seeing a woman take control of her own life, achieving and conquering her goals—or even freeing herself from them. No longer waiting for them to come to her (though sometimes that happens too—let’s always keep Knives Out in mind) but more often seeing her actively work to reach what she desires the most.

Although not formally codified, there are certain narrative rules that this subgenre follows—flexible and variable, yet maintaining a kind of framework for these types of stories. First and foremost, the female character in question must often overcome complex situations, sometimes navigating through social issues that she must face (such as sexism), other times dealing with obstacles caused by specific circumstances, often linked to abuse or a traumatic experience. Then comes the evolution of the character’s narrative arc, which must include the pursuit of her own autonomy, learning to defend herself, escaping unfavorable situations, and most importantly, realizing that she must finally put herself first. Finally, the third key element in Good for Her films is the emphasis and celebration of women’s rights—and, at times, even their mistakes. This latter point challenges traditional notions of how women are expected to behave and how the subgenre has reshaped that perspective: the protagonists do not always act righteously in obtaining what they want, but the audience understands why they do it, and therefore, they deserve support.

Horror is certainly a fertile ground for this type of growth arc, which often includes the healing of a trauma that the protagonists can achieve by the end. However, unlike in slasher films, we are no longer dealing with a final girl, because the protagonist is not simply trying to escape from a killer’s sharp weapon—which in itself is another genre-related metaphor, often tied to sexuality and its punishment through a blade penetrating flesh. Instead, it is about embarking on a journey of self-awareness that can lead to salvation in multiple ways. Thomasin from The Witch is part of the GFHCU, suffocated by her family’s religious constraints, eventually discovering her true nature in the Satanic climax of Robert Eggers’ film. Susie Bannion from Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria is ultimately revealed to be the powerful Mother Suspiriorum—not just a dancer who wants to become the best in the academy, but the supreme entity who decides to take back control of the witches' coven and restore the order disrupted by Helena Markos. In Us, a group of doppelgängers is led by Red to invade the surface world, but only at the end do we discover that the protagonist had been human all along and was merely trying to reclaim her rightful place in the world. More recently, Heretic tells the story of two Mormon girls who enter the house of a devout atheist, who imprisons them and tries to convince them that he has discovered a miracle—only one of them will be able to escape from her captivity, be it religious or otherwise. With the X trilogy, Ti West has given us the ultimate modern heroine, Maxine Minx. However, it is only in the third and final installment that we actually see her achieve her goal—after many deaths and various tragedies—becoming a star (although Pearl also has a personality that fits the Good for Her archetype).

Then there is the romantic side of the horror Good for Her genre, where, through the most violent genre of all, protagonists can break free from a toxic relationship. The quintessential example is Dani from Midsommar, where Florence Pugh not only frees herself from her terrible boyfriend Christian but also becomes the May Queen of an unlikely Swedish community. In Ready or Not, unfortunately, Grace realizes the mistake of marrying Daniel only when, on their wedding night, she is forced to spend the evening playing hide-and-seek with her husband’s family—where being found means being brutally killed. The final cigarette she smokes, after having wiped out her (ex) husband's entire family, is pure catharsis. Among the most recent additions to the list is Irish, the protagonist of Companion, a robot who is not only exploited as a girlfriend to satisfy the emotional and sexual needs of anyone who purchases (or rents) her, but who in the film is manipulated by her partner Josh into killing a man to cover for him. It is sometimes up to science fiction to show us how androids can be more human than those made of flesh and blood, and that is exactly the case in Drew Hancock’s film starring Sophie Thatcher. It follows in the footsteps of Ex Machina, though in a completely different genre and tone. Another Good for Her film that, like Companion, begins with a couple meeting in a supermarket and later reveals the man to be a sociopath is Fresh by Mimi Cave, starring Daisy Edgar-Jones as the victim and Sebastian Stan as the cannibal.

Then there are characters like Amy Elliott from Gone Girl, who may have gone a bit too far in faking her disappearance, trying to frame her husband, Nick, and leaving a trail of death behind her. But the truth is, she was tired of being confined to the role of the ‘cool girl’, the very image that her husband, her family, and society at large had forced upon her. In the end, though, she still succeeds, and when her plan remains undiscovered in David Fincher’s film, there’s a sense of satisfaction in seeing her get away with it, even if she ends up back with Nick. It’s a kind of revenge that alters the power dynamics within the couple—maybe they have to stay together, but not under the same conditions as before. Revenge remains a solid foundation for protagonists who want to be part of the GFHCU. This is true in a supernatural sense for Megan Fox’s character in Jennifer’s Body, a film that has become a cult classic over the years. After being subjected to an assault (in the form of a ritual), she is possessed by a demon that devours men to maintain her youth and beauty—while her friend Needy ultimately takes her own path to vengeance, avenging both herself and Jennifer. It is also true for Lee Geum-ja, who is wrongly imprisoned for the murder of a child in Lady Vengeance and decides to take justice into her own hands by targeting the true culprits. It is true for Jen in Revenge, whose very name foreshadows her destiny—she must survive by eliminating her abusers in Coralie Fargeat’s rape-and-revenge thriller.

And it is also true, in a broader sense, for Cassie in Promising Young Woman. In seeking revenge against those responsible for the death of her best friend—who was raped and filmed on a cellphone—Cassie becomes a threat not just to those involved in the crime but also a vigilante figure defending all women who have long been exposed to and victimized by male violence, perpetuated and protected by a patriarchal society. It’s an enormous responsibility that neither Cassie nor director Emerald Fennell shy away from, making the film a true manifesto, despite the tragic fate of its protagonist (or perhaps because of it). The same can be said for Poor Things in terms of reclaiming one’s own identity. Reborn after the experiments of a scientist and having lived her entire life from childhood to adulthood in an already developed body played by Emma Stone, the protagonist, Bella Baxter, embarks on a true journey of self-determination in Yorgos Lanthimos’ film. She learns about sex, pleasure, work, culture, and ultimately returns to the house where she began, but with a newfound awareness—especially of herself. Not to mention her cinematic counterpart of the same year, Barbie, who, by the end of the film, is finally able to claim that she has a vagina. Margot Robbie, through her production company LuckyChap, seems dedicated to the subgenre, both investing in it and starring in it (another film that features her is the comic book adaptation Birds of Prey). Whether it’s a musical about the roaring twenties (Chicago), one of the most famous anime films of all time (Kiki’s Delivery Service), a horror masterpiece (Carrie), a 1970s thriller-noir (Jackie Brown), or an intriguing drama (Swallow), if you see a female character reach the end of her story strong, independent, partially unscathed, and, most importantly, happy, you can’t help but look at the screen, nod in agreement, and think, just like Lucille Bluth would: good for her.