Back in the 1980s, Bonnie Tyler was holding out for a hero. These days, she might well pine for a villain or two. From the Bible to Walt Disney, audiences have lapped up portrayals of clear-cut wretchedness. But now the divisions between good and bad are collapsing. In Disney's latest 3D animation, Wreck-It Ralph, the protagonist is the baddie in a retro-style arcade game. Ralph is a villain who lacks the villainous gene, a heavy who dreams of lightness. Inspired by attending a support group – where he learns that just because he is a Bad Guy, it doesn't mean he is a bad guy – he rebels against his fate and turns heroic. His fellow games characters are aghast. I have to confess, I sympathise. Does that make me a bad person?
Villains unworthy of vilification can be found in everything from the Austin Powers comedies, where the insufficiently wicked plans of Dr Evil positively drip bathos, to Skyfall, where Javier Bardem essentially played a neglected son jealous of Bond's relationship with their surrogate mother, M. Children's films have been veering this way for a while. Emperor Zurg plays catch with his long-lost son, Buzz Lightyear, in Toy Story 2. The ogre in Shrek is a big softie. The bulb-headed supervillain with low self-esteem in Megamind proves braver than his superhero adversary. And Gru, the evil genius in Despicable Me, becomes the adoptive father of three cutesy little girls. Despicable Me 2, out later this year, sees him stepping into the breach at a children's party when the entertainer cancels. Shere Khan would have eaten the whining brats.
Inevitably it comes back to childhood issues. Megamind was raised by jailbirds, Gru's mother humiliated him. The villain of Disney's Meet the Robinsons is shown in flashback as a sad-faced orphan in a children's home. The rational part of me loves this move to complex characterisation, especially in films through which young viewers receive a portion of their moral tutelage. Empathy cannot be overvalued, after all. But there is another part that craves an outlet for hissing and booing, even outside the pantomime season. If movies deny us that pleasure, there will be few places left to turn other than PMQs.
