Neurodivergent (Headcanon) Alley: Fitzwilliam Darcy (Pride and Prejudice)

*Darcy-related spoilers.*

Let’s be real. It was only a matter of time until I came around to this one. My Jane Austen journey started with the series of Masterpiece TV movies in 2007 (shoutout to Felicity Jones and Catherine Morland!), which led to all the books and then every single adaptation I could get my hands on. Hello, special interest! I’ve always loved Mr. Darcy as a character, for his complexity and fantastic interactions with Lizzy. I used to hedge a little, feeling a hipsterish need to point out that he wasn’t necessarily my favorite Austen leading man, but let’s put that aside, shall we? It’s Darcy. Over the years, I’ve only grown more attached to the character, in all sorts of incarnations (looking at you, Fire Island!) I’ve long appreciated his introverted characterization, but I’ve more recently come to view him through an autistic lens as well.

As I’ve gone deeper into my own neurodivergent journey, hearing about other folks’ autistic headcanons has really helped me expand my view of what autism can look like, and I now recognize that kinship with plenty of characters that it never would’ve occurred to me to read as autistic. But when I first saw Darcy’s name pop up on someone’s headcanon list, my immediate thought wasn’t, “Whoa, really? Well, now that I think about it….” It was, “Well, that makes total sense.”

Let’s start with Darcy in his own words, shall we? “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess, of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.” Originally, I read this line as a Big Introverted Mood, but this is also a very autistic framing. Darcy isn’t merely shy or withdrawn. He has difficulty following people’s tone or playing along with social niceties, and despite having observed other people do this successfully, he can’t figure out how to do it himself.

I don’t want to say Darcy isn’t proud, because he definitely can be. But when he’s stiff and awkward at a ball, when he refuses to dance because he doesn’t want to, when he responds flatly to Bingley’s rose-colored impression of the evening, other people take all of that as further proofness of his standoffishness. Most everyone in Meryton thinks Darcy is a snobby dud compared to Bingley, and they take his behavior purely as slights against them, not recognizing that a big portion of it stems from his social discomfort.

However, people who know Darcy well have a very different opinion of him. Bingley is maybe a bit impervious to his friend’s moods, but Darcy is the friend he brings along to Netherfield. They spend a great deal of time together, and as amiable as Bingley is, I don’t think he’d keep dragging Darcy to balls he doesn’t want to go to if they didn’t genuinely get along. And when Lizzy visits Pemberley, Darcy’s housekeeper is full of warm remarks about him and specifically notes that a lot of people have the wrong impression. I’m a person who can struggle in social situations until I really get to know someone (and even then, I’m better one-on-one or in very small groups,) and I know what it’s like to have people assume I’m stuck-up.

Darcy is bluntly honest to his own detriment—especially in this sort of drawing-room polite society, where it’s all about saying things in the “correct” or expected manner. His first proposal to Lizzy is a disaster, and not just because she’s totally blindsided by the fact that she’s into him. No, he bursts in, declaring, “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” and then he proceeds to tell Lizzy about how hard he’s tried not to love her, due to her undesirable family connections. And the thing is, he thinks he’s nailing it. Yes, on a class level, it’d be unthinkable for a woman in Lizzy’s position to turn down a man of Darcy’s standing. But from his perspective, he’s also 1) being honest, which is good and 2) telling Lizzy that his love for her is strong enough to overcome his numerous misgivings about her family and status, which he thinks is flattering to her. When Lizzy flatly turns him down, he doesn’t know what to think.

(Side note: much of Darcy’s reluctance toward Lizzy is down to the Bennets’ “inferior” class, and some of it is about the boorish behavior of characters like Mrs. Bennet and Lydia. But it’s also worth mentioning that Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are like a walking sensory overload.)

Fortunately for Darcy, Lizzy clarifies her reasons, and once he understands, he writes her a long letter to add context to everything she’s heard about him. As their relationship continues to shift and deepen, he thinks he can feel that shift but remains wary. The next time he broaches the topic of love, it’s to quietly share, “My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever,” putting the ball in Lizzy’s court. First of all, thank you, gentleman, for respecting a woman’s boundaries. But also, we see how he wants to wait for explicit confirmation that Lizzy feels the same way before he tries proposing again, having misread the situation before.

So yeah, one of the most popular romantic leads of all time can be easily read as autistic, which is pretty cool. Unfortunately, Darcy’s literary swoonworthiness doesn’t really translate to people with those traits in real life, but I still appreciate watching this heartthrob character deal with his socializing struggles and bad first impressions on the way to finding true love.

Blue Beetle (2023, PG-13)

Chalk up another win for DC. This film is funny, exciting, and heartfelt, full of loveable characters that are easy to root for. I had a great time!

Jaime Reyes has just returned home from college with big dreams of taking care of his family. But financial struggles have hit hard, and his goals aren’t panning out like he hoped. When a wealthy corporate scion offers him the “job” of guarding a mysterious object, Jaime is perplexed but ready to take on just about anything. He just didn’t realize that was going to involve the Scarab, an alien weapons system with a mind of its own, one that’s decided he’d be its perfect new host.

I didn’t know much of anything about Blue Beetle as a superhero—either Jaime or the original incarnation of the character—but I’ve been excited about this movie for a while. I’m always in favor of more representation in blockbusters, the trailer looked fun and cool, and I enjoy getting introduced to heroes who are new to me. And Blue Beetle delivers handily.

Jaime makes for an interesting superhero. He’s a good, honest guy who gets caught up in way more than he bargained for, especially since the Blue Beetle armor is frequently controlled by Khaji-Da, the alien consciousness at the heart of the Scarab. Early in the film, we see Jaime flailing as Khaji-Da zips him all over the city in the name of integration tests, and he sometimes argues with her when she wants to use the suit to deal with threats in a more permanent way than Jaime is comfortable with. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he knows he wants to do the right thing, and he knows he doesn’t want his family caught in the crossfire of whatever he’s gotten mixed up in.

With a lot of heroes, plenty of time is spent juggling their secret identity and their civilian life, but Jaime and his whole family have quite the trial by fire on that front. The Scarab bonds with him in the Reyes’ kitchen, and when the suit flies for the first time he blasts a hole through the roof. This means his family is involved from the jump—his parents, nana, uncle, and sister—and while this puts them in danger pretty quickly, it also means Jaime isn’t alone as he tries to figure things out. The Reyes family is ride or die, and everyone is prepared to pitch in and do their part. Uncle Rudy doesn’t have the resources of certain comic book billionaires who invent useful superhero technology, but he has the practical skill to bring his innovative ideas to fruition, even if he has to give his inventions a good kick before they start working. Jaime’s sister Milagro can be snarky and pessimistic, but that doesn’t mean she won’t go to bat for her brother. And you don’t want to mess with Nana!

The good guy/bad guy conflict is a little by-the-numbers, with our main villain being something of a stock corporate baddie who will stop at nothing to get the Scarab for her own purposes. But the action is cool, the family dynamics are superb, and the film is equally great at fun banter and heartfelt moments. I laughed, I got emotional, and on the whole, I had a blast.

I haven’t seen Cobra Kai, so this is my first time seeing Xolo Maridueña, who’s excellent as Jaime. His performance is charming, relatable, and a little awkward (in a good way,) and it’s wonderful to see him grow into the hero we all know he can be. Everyone cast in the Reyes family does a great job, especially Belissa Escobedo as Milagro and George Lopez as Uncle Rudy—“Batman is a fascist!”, I love it! The familial chemistry is on point from start to finish, loud and messy and loving. Susan Sarandon gets the job done as the villainous Victoria Kord, and Bruna Marquezine plays well off Maridueña as Jenny, Victoria’s niece who wants to prevent the company from gaining power they shouldn’t. The film also features Harvey Guillén in a small but pivotal role—I still haven’t seen What We Do in the Shadows (I want to watch the original film first,) but I really loved Guillén as Alistair back on Huge.

Warnings

Comic book violence, language, brief drug references, and thematic elements.

The Book of Rannells: Princess Power: Season 1, Episode 9 – “Princess Dad-Dilemma” (2023)

This is the first episode of Princess Power where Andrew Rannells does more than a 30-second opening or closing scene. And it’s still a goofy kids’ show, but he did amuse me here.

When Bea convinces King Barton to go hang gliding with her, he’s nervous but willing to try something new. Unfortunately, he loses control of his hang glider at an inopportune moment and gets stranded in a precarious position. Bea rallies the other princesses to help her save her dad.

By this point, the format is well established. A problem and/or challenge arises, the girls put their heads together to fix it, and everybody has a particular contribution to make. It’s much the same here: there’s some trial and error, plus some added complications along the way, but the princesses remain tenacious and industrious until they find a solution.

Side note: I appreciate that Rita’s fashionista talents are viewed as just as valuable as Bea’s athleticism, Kira’s knowledge of biology, and Penny’s STEM prowess. In all the 21^st century eagerness to show “strong/empowered princesses!”, media can sometimes equate strength with eschewing traditionally feminine interests. Rita creates things that help the girls achieve their goal, she just makes sure that whatever she makes also looks fabulous. At one point in this episode, she exclaims, “What? I bedazzle when I’m in high-stakes situations!”

So far, I’ve only ever seen the princesses off on their own, problem-solving without any adult oversight. This episode is different in that one of their parents, King Barton, is present. But since his predicament is the problem they’re trying to solve, he’s not there in any sort of supervisory capacity. Instead, he seems fairly content to sit tight and watch his daughter and her friends work.

But even if he isn’t very active in the proceedings, that doesn’t mean Barton is just a non-entity. Rannells has goofy fun with the dialogue here. In his previous brief appearances, Barton was 100% a generic dad character with no real defining features. But here, we get both an oblique fatherly lesson and some silly lines from him. While hang gliding with Bea, he says, “I’m glad I brought my lucky whisk! …But why did I bring my unlucky ladle?” And after he gets stranded, Bea flies off to find the other princesses, telling him, “I’ll be right back! Don’t move!” As he watches her go, Barton remarks, “…Where would I go?” It’s cute and fun.