Woman of the Month: Victoria Everglot

Victoria Everglot from Corpse Bride

It’s October, and that requires an appropriately themed Woman of the Month. As it happens, this is the third consecutive year in which a stop-motion heroine has featured, and not entirely by design. There’s just something about those movies that’s inherently spooky.

But I always try to make a point of revisiting my favourite spooky stories in the Halloween season, and this year was Corpse Bride – nowhere near as beloved as Coraline or The Nightmare Before Christmas, but with its own macabre charm.

You may be surprised that I’m going with Victoria instead of Emily, the titular corpse bride, but that’s only because I don’t think Victoria gets enough credit. She’s meek and quiet where Emily is vivacious and passionate, and the film genuinely keeps you in suspense over who Victor will eventually marry – especially when the story makes a point of Emily sharing Victor’s skill at the piano (performing a sweet duet with him), whereas Victoria has never been allowed to touch any instrument in her life.

And yet Victoria is a great example of how a female character can be innately passive and yet still have sweetness, dignity and strength in abundance. And when Victor finds her after accidentally committing himself to Emily, she grabs the sheets off her bed, turns them into a rope, and abseils off her balcony in the pouring rain to seek out help from the bishop.

Granted, this is her sole moment of agency, and it ends with said bishop dragging her home with the admonishment: “you should be at home, prostrate with grief.” Whether it’s being described by her parents as having “a face like an otter in disgrace”, used as a pawn to replenish their depleted fortunes, or getting held hostage by the film’s villain, Victoria isn’t allowed to control the narrative in any way.

Heck, it’s Emily herself who finally gives up her claim on Victor, realizing that she’s wrong to come between Victor and his living bride.

Yet there’s a moment at the beginning of the film, when Victor is struggling with his vows, in which Victoria silently reaches out and lights the candle he’s accidentally extinguished. It’s such a sweet moment of solidarity and sympathy towards someone who is clearly burdened by the expectations put upon him, and it’s this that makes Victoria special. You don’t have to sword fight or play piano or partake in witty repartee to be worthy of love – just be kind.