Modern film and television often present a troubling dichotomy: characters are either helpless victims or glamorized villains, with little room for nuanced accountability. This trend reflects and possibly reinforces societal attitudes—where people either feel powerless or celebrate cruelty without confronting its consequences.

1. The Overrepresentation of Victimhood

Psychological studies suggest that media shapes our perception of agency. When characters are predominantly portrayed as victims—suffering without recourse—it can foster a sense of helplessness in audiences (Seligman, 1975). Prestige TV is filled with trauma narratives, yet they seldom examine society’s role in causing this suffering, or how societal norms, myths, and exploitative practices create conditions for it. Media critics like Jonathan Gottschall argue that storytelling often simplifies moral complexity, reducing conflicts to oppressor vs. oppressed (The Storytelling Animal, 2012).

2. The Glamorization of Villainy

On the other extreme, people frequently depict villains as charismatic antiheroes, framing their ruthlessness as strength. Social psychologists note such portrayals can normalise destructive behaviour through „identification with the aggressor“ (Bandura, 1999). Online, people reframe Trump’s bullying as „winning“ by celebrating him, or dehumanize marginalized groups (e.g., refugees, Palestinians).

3. The Absence of Consequences

Few filmmakers confront the real impact of violence and exploitation. Kurosawa (Rashomon) and Haneke (Funny Games) force audiences to sit with brutality’s aftermath. Fassbinder (The Marriage of Maria Braun) exposed the psychological toll of exploitation, showing how both victims and perpetrators are damaged. Yet, mainstream action films (John Wick, The Avengers) sanitise violence, divorcing it from real-world repercussions.

4. The Environmental Bystander Effect: Media’s Role in Climate Inaction

This victim-villain binary extends to our relationship with nature. Environmental narratives often frame humans as either helpless victims of climate disasters („natural“ catastrophes happen to us) or passive bystanders, ignoring our role as perpetrators of ecological harm. Films like The Day After Tomorrow depict climate change as an unstoppable force, reinforcing fatalism rather than accountability. Rarely do mainstream stories grapple with the uncomfortable truth: humanity is the primary driver of environmental destruction, yet we resist seeing ourselves as the „villain“ in this story.

This mirrors what Jung called „shadow work“—the refusal to confront our capacity for harm. When media avoids depicting human complicity in ecological collapse (e.g., Don’t Look Up satirises denial but still centres human drama over systemic responsibility), it perpetuates the myth that we are separate from nature, not its destroyers. Documentaries like Anthropocene: The Human Epoch or The Act of Killing (which confronts perpetrators of genocide) are exceptions, forcing viewers to witness the consequences of unchecked exploitation.

5. Counterexamples: Media That Embraces Complexity

Not all storytelling succumbs to simplification. Several filmmakers explore accountability, interconnectedness, and emotional nuance:

• Shane Meadows (This Is England) portrays how trauma cycles through communities, showing both victimhood and complicity in violence.
• Michael Haneke (The White Ribbon, Caché) exposes the quiet cruelty of ordinary people and the ripple effects of repressed guilt.
• Andrei Zvyagintsev (Leviathan, Loveless) critiques systemic corruption while revealing how individuals perpetuate collective harm.
• Krzysztof Kieślowski (The Decalogue, Three Colors Trilogy) intertwines moral dilemmas with profound empathy, refusing easy binaries.
• Barry Jenkins (Moonlight) and Lynne Ramsay (You Were Never Really Here) depict vulnerability without reducing characters to passive victims.

These works reject the victim-villain trap, instead asking: How are we implicated in systems of harm? How do we reconcile responsibility with suffering?

6. Societal Implications

This binary—victim or villain—mirrors a polarised culture where people either resign to powerlessness or embrace cruelty as empowerment. Philosopher Hannah Arendt warned of the „banality of evil,“ where harm is trivialised or aestheticist. When the media neglects accountability, it risks normalising exploitation in real life—whether in political rhetoric, online bullying, or systemic violence.
Similarly, environmental inaction thrives when media either stokes apocalyptic panic (paralysing audiences) or ignores humanity’s role altogether. Stories that confront our destructive potential—First Reformed, Princess Mononoke—are rare but vital.

Conclusion: Beyond Binaries

Cinema and TV must move beyond victimisation and villain-worship to explore responsibility, complicity, and consequence. This includes narratives that hold humanity accountable for ecological violence while resisting nihilism. By embracing complexity—as seen in the works of Haneke, Zvyagintsev, and Jenkins—storytelling can reflect, and perhaps repair, the tangled realities of human behaviour.