NT-Hero

The spice of a story, the element that makes it more than simple heroes and villains, lies within the character of the antihero. What makes an antihero? Is rebellion against authority all that is required, or is antihero just another word for exciting villain? The line between an antihero and a villain has always been hazy and open to discussion, but lately the distinction has become moot in some cases. In certain long dramas that evoke the epic spirit of the earliest stories, characters that appear as villains initially evolve and develop only to be absorbed into the storyline as antiheroes.
What I am talking about is the true post-modernistic archetype: the antihero is someone with some of the qualities of a villain, up to and including brutality, cynicism, and ruthlessness, but with the soul or motivations of a more conventional hero. Many of the protagonists of Western stories fit into the broad antihero mould, especially those who are shown as having turbulent, violent backgrounds and conflicting motivations. Frequently, it is this mental conflict that serves to link the discrete episodes which compose such stories.
My interest has always been the female anti hero. For a female anti-hero, it appears that beauty or physical attractiveness alone is not enough to off-set the brutality, amoral behaviour, or ruthlessness needed for a true anti-hero. It seems to take a combination of physical beauty, innate intelligence, and some sort of triggering event – but not the jaded, ‘world-weary’ technique often seen in the male anti-hero – to set the stage for a believable or rather acceptable anti-heroine. If the balance isn’t achieved, one is left with a psychotic or clichéd character.