On Redemption Arcs
People love layered characters. There’s something inherently intriguing about a character with complex morals and motivations. It’s compelling seeing how a character grows and changes over time and how these morals and motivations shift accordingly.
This is why we often gravitate so strongly towards corruption and redemption arcs. These are often huge shifts in the ideologies, moralities and priorities of a character. So it’s interesting to see how a character experiences such a dramatic change and how they feel about making those changes.
I don’t think either of these options is necessarily more or less interesting than the other. Both are very intriguing to explore in a story. For the purposes of this article though, I want to briefly talk about redemption arcs specifically.
Paths to Redemption
There’s a lot of ways a character can take the long and twisting journey from bad guy to good guy, but you can mostly break them down into three different categories: purging the corruption, changes in a character’s moral code or an existing dichotomy between a character’s values and their position as a villain.
Purging the corruption is probably the least interesting of the three and typically, but not exclusively, shows up in media aimed at children. Essentially, this is when a villainous character is not evil by choice but because of some sort of supernaturally corrupting influence like mind control or possession. Therefore, redeeming this character is less a matter of actual redemption and more like curing an illness. Once the corrupting influence is gone, they’re not evil anymore. It’s simple and easy. Of course, the aftermath for that character can still be compelling, but conceptually there’s not much to dive into here.
The other two options, however, are more interesting. This is because they require genuine change and growth in your character. The character has to be an active part in their own redemption.
The first of the remaining options is when you have a legitimately immoral or evil character who experiences one or more events that cause them to re-evaluate their beliefs. There’s a lot of forms this can take, but generally it’s a crisis of conscience caused by seeing the results of their actions first hand or experiencing (often undeserved) undeserved kindness from another character. Two (spoilerific) and interesting examples from favourite stories of mine are Jinx from Arcane and Bonesaw from Worm. In both cases, these are characters who have done some deeply evil things with a smile on their face. However, both characters are also deeply emotionally and psychologically damaged and have been since they were very young. Both characters find themselves on the path to redemption because they are reminded of their humanity by another character. Jinx finds herself inadvertently the caregiver of Isha, a young and vulnerable child who has nothing but admiration and love for her and who resembles who she used to be greatly. Isha’s kindness towards her and resemblance of her old self push her onto the path of reclaiming a piece of the kind person she once was and eventually lead to her becoming a genuine hero. Bonesaw, on the other hand, is strategically forced back into goodness by a precognitive character who views her powerset as necessary. So she is manipulated into remembering the horrors that led to an innocent child becoming a crazy, bloodthirsty killer and confronting all her suppressed feelings. Another famous example is of course Darth Vader from Star Wars. When his son refuses to kill him, he is reminded of the compassionate protector he used to be and of the love he had for his wife and family - the same love that led to him killing his old identity to become the monster in the first place. He chooses to be who he was and not who he became instead of killing his son, the embodiment of that love.
The remaining option is the existence of a dichotomy between a character’s personal code and their villainy. It’s an intriguing concept. The basic idea is that a character is a villain or is aligned with your villains because they believe they are doing the right thing or feel some loyalty to the bad guys at a personal or cultural level. However, when presented with evidence of their villainy being in contrast to their values, they end up changing sides to the one that more accurately aligns with them as an individual. Fullmetal Alchemist’s Roy Mustang is an interesting example of this, as he is introduced to us as a mostly heroic character. We learn pretty quickly though that he historically participated in a genocide as an order-following soldier and that a large part of his intent to ascend to political power is to ensure this never happens again. A lot of the characters allied to the heroes in that series actually have this origin. In Epic: The Musical - a musical reimagining of the Odyssey - there is a song called God Games. God Games is a great example of this because the entire point of the song is that the Olympians either start apathetic to Odyesius’ plight or outright antagonistic towards him until it is pointed out that his success and survival are more aligned with their values than letting him suffer and fail.
I think this last version of a redemption story is probably the least common, which is understandable. It’s hard to present a character as being aligned with the villains and doing villainous things while also making it evident that their own beliefs aren’t necessarily aligned with villainy.
Regardless, all of the methods of which an evil character can eventually become heroic lend themselves to adding complexity and intrigue to a character. It should, perhaps, be noted that redemption arcs are becoming something of a cliche in modern media as a lot of storytellers are finding themselves reluctant to write villains who are purely evil for a number of reasons.
Redemption and Struggle
With all that being said though, not all redemption arcs are created equal. An inherent trouble with redemption arcs is that villainy typically (and rightfully) is understood both in and out of universe as being deserving of consequences.
When a villain’s redemption is accepted too readily and without struggle, it hurts the story. It conflicts with an audience’s suspension of disbelief and can even turn people off of a character they otherwise found interesting. To truly be compelling, redemption has to be earned.
A character in the progress of turning from evil to good should have to grapple with their history as a villain. That can take the form of dealing with their own conscience and the toll it takes on their mental health. It can also be more external - struggling to find their place in a world that despises them, having difficulty earning the trust of villains, becoming public enemy number one to their old allies or even a combination of the three. Maybe they even have to deal with legal consequences for their past crimes. Ideally, the struggle will be both internal and external.
Of course, famously, villains who help heroes often die. In fact, TV Tropes has a whole section dedicated to instances of this trope called Redemption Equals Death. The idea makes sense on paper. The former villain proves they’re good now by being willing to risk their life and even make the ultimate sacrifice to atone for their sins. It’s effective, albeit a bit overdone. The aforementioned Darth Vader example is probably the most well known version of this. Boromir in The Lord of the Rings isn’t exactly a villain, but he is antagonistic towards the rest of the fellowship and does try to take the One Ring for himself. But he is remembered as a hero because shortly after giving in to the ring and trying to take it from Frodo, he also gives his life saving the hobbits from a horde of orcs all on his own.
The problem with Redemption Equals Death is that it often feels easy. Killing off a villain after one heroic moment has started to feel like shorthand for a redemption arc instead of the culmination of one. The MCU’s Quicksilver is a pretty notorious example of this, but it was already a well-established trope by then. Remember, Boromir and Darth Vader. Hell, even Marvel movies had already dipped their toes into this before with Senator Kelly in X-Men immediately dying the moment he realises racism is bad. The trouble with this trope is that, often, this means characters never have to really live with the consequences of their actions and experience the struggle needed to earn their redemption. It also means the author doesn’t have to figure out how to have a character’s redemption feel legitimate and earned, so it can come across as lazy writing regardless of whether or not this is the case. Especially now that it is such a well-established trope.
I’m not saying that death by redemption is always bad. I’m not even saying abrupt death by redemption is always bad, although it has become less tolerable with the trope’s prevalence. However; I think, as a general rule, a redemption arc hits harder and feels more compelling when it is an arc. Even if it ends in death, that moment will feel better if it feels earned.
Conclusion
To close things off, I think this is a really enjoyable trope when done right. Redemption arcs and redeemed villains have become so popular for a reason. We find characters with layers and complexity engaging. We love to see characters grow, struggle and come out better on the other side. Plus, there’s something uplifting about seeing someone rise up, confront their darkness and better themselves. It’s inspiring and makes us feel like we can be better too.
However, with the popularity of the trope comes the struggles of making your take stand out from the crowd. It’s important to remember to make sure you don’t take shortcuts and that a redemption feels earned, otherwise you risk disappointing at least some of your audience and ending up with a story that is less impactful than it could be.
