Movies marketed 'for men' are often treated as movies for everyone. Their heroes are universal symbols of bravery, ambition, or rebellion. By contrast, movies 'for women' are dismissed as niche rom-coms, family dramas, or chick flicks. The difference lies not only in marketing, but in how womanhood itself is imagined. In these so-called universal stories, there is rarely more than one meaningful female character. She is independent, clever, and strong, but always alone.
This is the essence of the 'lone girl' theory.
The lone female protagonist, expected to represent all women, must do so in isolation. She is surrounded by men, her teammates, classmates, colleagues, or companions, and her individuality is defined by her difference from 'other girls.' Think Hermione Granger in Harry Potter, Annabeth Chase in Percy Jackson, and countless action heroines, detectives, and explorers who are strong but isolated.
Her exceptionalism depends on their inferiority.
Yet the 'lone girl’s' strength often carries a quiet cost. To be accepted, she distances herself from femininity. She may roll her eyes at 'girly' behaviour or express open disdain for the women around her. When female peers do appear, they’re often portrayed as petty, incompetent, or antagonistic. Her exceptionalism depends on their inferiority.
The phrase 'lone girl' itself has roots not in empowerment, but in horror. It echoes the 'final girl' trope, the last woman standing after a slasher villain has killed all her friends. She survives because she’s pure, cautious, or smart, but her victory is hollow: survival at the price of total isolation.
What’s missing from these stories is community. Rarely do we see women who gain strength from one another, who collaborate, teach, or grow together. The sisterhood found in films like Little Women, The Woman King, or Barbie remains the exception rather than the rule.
The 'lone girl' theory exposes a deep imbalance in how our culture imagines universality. Until women are allowed to be more than solitary symbols of strength, until they can exist in stories where their relationships with other women are sources of power, we will keep mistaking isolation for empowerment. True representation won’t come from the lone girl standing tall among men, but from women standing together.