The Villain Wasn't Always Wrong

Why we're increasingly rooting for the bad guys, questioning the heroes, and discovering that the line between good and evil isn't always as clear as movies once made it seem.


Let's be honest.

At some point in your movie-watching life, you've probably found yourself agreeing with the villain.

Not necessarily supporting their actions. Let's not get carried away.

But somewhere between the villain explaining their master plan and the hero preparing another inspirational speech, you've probably thought:

"Wait a minute. That's actually a fair point."

And then you immediately felt a little uncomfortable.

Take Thanos, for example.

The man travelled across the universe collecting magical stones, committed unimaginable destruction, and had an unhealthy obsession with balancing the population.

Obviously, not someone you'd invite over for dinner.

But his argument?

He believed resources were limited, populations were growing, and the universe was heading towards disaster.

Was his solution absolutely horrifying? Yes.

Was the underlying problem completely imaginary? Not necessarily.

Then there's Killmonger from Black Panther. A man whose anger was rooted in historical injustice, abandonment, and inequality.

Or the Joker, whose relationship with society makes us uncomfortable precisely because some of his observations expose things we'd rather not discuss.

And suddenly, watching movies becomes a little more interesting.

Because we're no longer simply asking whether the hero will win.

We're asking whether the hero is actually right.

Perhaps the most interesting villains aren't the ones who want to destroy the world. They're the ones who make us question why the world works the way it does.

1. Heroes were much easier to love when we were kids

Remember being a child and watching movies?

There were good guys and bad guys.

The hero wore the right colours, had a dramatic background score, probably had a tragic backstory, and always showed up just when things were about to get interesting.

The villain, meanwhile, had a suspicious face, a questionable hairstyle, and absolutely no respect for anyone's personal space.

It was simple.

You knew whom to cheer for.

If the hero punched the villain, you celebrated. If the villain punched the hero, you waited patiently for revenge.

There was no need for a philosophical discussion.

But something changes as we grow older.

We start noticing the details.

Why is the villain angry? What happened before the story began? What exactly is the hero fighting for? And are the hero's methods really that different from the villain's?

When you're a child, you see someone breaking the rules.

When you're an adult, you sometimes start wondering who wrote the rules in the first place.

Take The Lion King.

As children, we see Scar as the obvious villain and Simba as the rightful hero.

Fair enough. Scar is hardly a role model.

But revisit the film as an adult and you'll notice how much more interesting the story becomes when you consider responsibility, power, family, manipulation, and leadership.

The characters don't suddenly become morally equal. But you start understanding the motivations and weaknesses behind their actions.

And that's the difference.

Growing older doesn't necessarily make us sympathise with villains.

It makes us more curious about what created them.

2. The villain's side of the story

Here's a little thought experiment.

Imagine watching a movie without knowing who the hero is.

You don't know the protagonist's background. You don't know which actor is playing the lead. You haven't seen the poster, the trailer, or the promotional interviews.

You simply watch two characters arguing.

One wants to preserve the existing system.

The other wants to tear it down.

One believes things are working as they should.

The other believes the system is fundamentally broken.

Now, which one would you support?

Interesting question, isn't it?

Movies usually introduce us to the hero first. We spend time understanding their relationships, their motivations, and their struggles.

The villain often arrives later, accompanied by suspicious music and a dramatic entrance.

By the time they explain their motivations, we've already decided whom we like.

But imagine reversing that.

What if the villain was the protagonist?

What if we followed their childhood, understood their disappointments, witnessed their losses, and experienced the world through their eyes?

Would we still hate them?

This is one of the most fascinating things about storytelling.

Perspective doesn't change what happened. It changes how we understand what happened.

And sometimes, that's all it takes to make a character interesting.

3. When the villain makes a good point

Let's talk about some familiar faces.

Thanos: The universe's most terrifying resource planner

Thanos believed the universe was heading towards catastrophe because of overpopulation and limited resources.

His proposed solution?

Erase half of all living beings.

I think we can safely agree that his approach had a few problems.

For starters, randomly eliminating half the population doesn't magically solve resource distribution, political inequality, or environmental mismanagement.

Also, the man had access to six Infinity Stones. Perhaps he could have considered creating more resources instead?

Just a thought, Thanos.

But here's what makes him interesting.

He genuinely believed he was saving the universe.

He wasn't simply collecting power for personal entertainment. In his mind, he was correcting a problem nobody else had the courage to confront.

That's what makes him more interesting than a villain who simply wants to rule everything.

His conviction is terrifying because he believes his actions are justified.

And that's a much more uncomfortable kind of evil.

Killmonger: The villain whose anger had a history

Erik Killmonger from Black Panther is another fascinating example.

His anger didn't appear out of nowhere.

His upbringing, abandonment, experiences with racial injustice, and the circumstances surrounding his family shaped the person he became.

He looked at Wakanda, a technologically advanced nation with enormous resources, and questioned why it had remained isolated while people of African descent elsewhere suffered.

Was his approach justified?

No.

His desire for domination and violence was not the answer.

But his questions were uncomfortable for a reason.

He challenged Wakanda's moral position.

He forced T'Challa to reconsider whether protecting a nation also meant ignoring the suffering of others.

And that's excellent storytelling.

The hero doesn't simply defeat the villain.

The villain forces the hero to become better.

The Joker: What happens when society stops seeing people?

Let's talk about the Joker.

Particularly the version portrayed in Joker (2019).

Arthur Fleck is isolated, struggling with mental health difficulties, living in poverty, and repeatedly experiencing humiliation and neglect.

His world is not particularly kind to him.

The film makes us uncomfortable because it asks us to look at the circumstances surrounding his transformation.

But there's an important distinction here.

Understanding someone's suffering doesn't justify the violence they commit.

Arthur's actions are his responsibility.

The film isn't asking us to celebrate violence. It's asking us to examine the social conditions, personal suffering, and failures that surround it.

And perhaps that's why the character generated so much discussion.

We weren't simply watching a criminal become dangerous.

We were watching a person become increasingly disconnected from a world that had failed to recognise him.

It's disturbing.

And that's precisely the point.

4. Society creates its own monsters

Here's where things get a little uncomfortable.

We love telling stories about evil individuals.

It's convenient.

A villain appears, causes problems, and the hero defeats them. The world becomes a better place. Credits roll.

But real life isn't quite that simple.

Sometimes the person causing harm is part of a much larger system.

Sometimes injustice is normalised.

Sometimes people who genuinely believe they're doing the right thing contribute to terrible outcomes.

And sometimes the people who benefit from a broken system are the same people who insist that everything is working perfectly.

This is what makes certain fictional villains so interesting.

They expose uncomfortable truths about the world around them.

Consider V for Vendetta.

The film presents a society controlled by an authoritarian government, where fear is used to maintain power.

V is undoubtedly a violent and morally complicated character.

But the film also raises questions about freedom, censorship, resistance, and what happens when institutions become oppressive.

Or take The Dark Knight.

The Joker isn't simply interested in defeating Batman.

He's interested in proving something about human behaviour.

He wants to demonstrate that morality is fragile and that ordinary people can abandon their principles under enough pressure.

And the uncomfortable part?

The movie makes us wonder whether he's entirely wrong about human weakness.

Of course, being able to identify a problem doesn't give someone permission to become the problem.

But stories become much more interesting when they explore the environment that allows evil to grow.

5. What actually makes someone evil?

Now here's the question that can ruin a perfectly good dinner conversation.

Is someone evil because of what they do, why they do it, or what they believe?

Consider two characters.

One commits a terrible act because they genuinely believe it will save millions.

Another commits a terrible act because they simply enjoy having power over others.

Their actions might look similar.

But their motivations are completely different.

Does that make the first person less evil?

Perhaps we should separate three things:

  • Intentions: What does the character believe they're trying to achieve?

  • Actions: What are they actually doing to other people?

  • Consequences: Who suffers because of their decisions?

Good intentions don't automatically make harmful actions acceptable.

And bad intentions aren't the only way to cause enormous damage.

This is where morally complicated characters become fascinating.

They force us to recognise that understanding someone's motivation and judging their behaviour are two different things.

You can understand why someone became cruel without excusing their cruelty.

You can sympathise with someone's suffering without supporting their revenge.

And you can acknowledge that someone has identified a real problem while completely rejecting their proposed solution.

That's what makes morality interesting.

It's rarely as convenient as picking a side and declaring victory.

6. The problem with perfect heroes

Here's another uncomfortable observation.

Sometimes the hero is simply boring.

Not because the actor is bad or the writing is poor.

But because perfection leaves very little room for interesting decisions.

A character who always knows what's right, always makes the correct choice, and never struggles with their own beliefs can become difficult to relate to.

We don't live like that.

We make mistakes. We contradict ourselves. We occasionally do the right thing for the wrong reasons.

And sometimes, we know exactly what we should do but still choose something else.

That's why flawed heroes are so compelling.

Take Walter White from Breaking Bad.

He begins as a struggling chemistry teacher who wants to secure his family's financial future.

Initially, his motivations are understandable.

But gradually, we watch his ambition, ego, resentment, and hunger for control take over.

At some point, the man we initially sympathised with becomes someone we can barely recognise.

And that's the brilliance of the character.

We don't simply watch a person become powerful.

We watch a person discover what he is willing to sacrifice to feel powerful.

Or take Tony Stark.

He begins as an arrogant billionaire weapons manufacturer and gradually becomes someone willing to sacrifice himself.

His journey is interesting precisely because he isn't perfect.

He has flaws, makes mistakes, and sometimes needs to be confronted by the consequences of his own decisions.

A hero becomes interesting when they have something to overcome within themselves.

Perhaps that's why we sometimes remember complicated heroes more vividly than flawless ones.

7. Maybe we're not rooting for evil. We're rooting for complexity.

I think this is the most important distinction.

When people say they love villains, it doesn't necessarily mean they support their actions.

Sometimes they simply appreciate the writing.

A villain with understandable motivations creates a richer story.

A villain who challenges the hero creates tension.

A villain who forces us to question our own assumptions makes the entire experience more memorable.

Think about how different The Dark Knight would be if the Joker simply wanted money.

Or how different Black Panther would be if Killmonger had no meaningful connection to Wakanda.

Or how different Avengers: Infinity War would be if Thanos were simply another character looking for unlimited power.

Their motivations give the stories weight.

They make the conflict about more than winning a fight.

And perhaps that's what modern audiences increasingly appreciate.

We don't necessarily want villains who are secretly good people.

We want characters who feel like actual people, with beliefs, contradictions, histories, and motivations.

Because the most interesting conflicts aren't always between good people and bad people.

Sometimes they're between people who believe they're doing the right thing for entirely different reasons.

And that's much closer to the complexity of real life.

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