A Ringside Seat to Messy, Glorious Feminism
When Netflix’s GLOW first bodyslammed its way onto our screens, it arrived in a cloud of hairspray, glitter, and 80s nostalgia. On the surface, it’s a story about a group of misfit women who become wrestlers in a low-budget, often exploitative, television show. But beneath the spandex and exaggerated personas lies a far more complex question that fans and critics have debated since its debut: Is GLOW a feminist show? The short answer is a resounding yes. However, the true brilliance of GLOW is that its feminism isn’t a simple, pre-packaged slogan. It’s a gritty, complicated, and deeply human exploration of what it means for women to find power, agency, and solidarity in a world designed to limit all three. It’s a show that understands that empowerment and exploitation can, and often do, exist in the very same breath.
GLOW doesn’t present a utopian vision of sisterhood. Instead, it dives headfirst into the messy realities of female ambition, friendship, and survival in the chauvinistic landscape of the 1980s. It argues, quite powerfully, that feminism isn’t always about making perfect, politically correct choices. Sometimes, it’s about taking the flawed opportunities you’re given and wrestling them into something that resembles freedom.
The Complicated Dance of Empowerment and Exploitation
One of the most compelling aspects of GLOW‘s feminist credentials is its unflinching look at the intersection of empowerment and exploitation. The “Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling” are, without a doubt, being exploited. They are directed by Sam Sylvia (Marc Maron), a cynical, B-movie director who initially sees them as little more than bodies to fill costumes. The wrestling personas they are assigned are often rooted in deeply offensive racial and social stereotypes. They are paid very little and asked to perform dangerous stunts in skimpy outfits for the titillation of a largely male audience.
A lesser show might either ignore this exploitation or condemn the women for participating in it. GLOW does something far more interesting. It validates the women’s experience by showing that, within this deeply flawed system, they discover an undeniable sense of power.
“This is a job where we get to use our bodies, be the heroes and the villains, and tell a story,” Sheila the She-Wolf (Gayle Rankin) explains at one point, perfectly capturing this duality.
For these women, most of whom were marginalized and overlooked in their pre-wrestling lives, the ring becomes a sanctuary. Consider these transformations:
- Ruth Wilder (Alison Brie): A serious actress constantly told she’s not the right “type,” Ruth finds a strength she never knew she had as the formidable Soviet villain, “Zoya the Destroya.” Inhabiting this powerful persona allows her to access a confidence that was previously unattainable. She’s not just playing a part; she’s building a new part of herself.
- Debbie Eagan (Betty Gilpin): A former soap star whose life imploded after her husband’s affair (with Ruth), Debbie enters wrestling as a way to reclaim her narrative. As the all-American hero “Liberty Belle,” she channels her rage and hurt into a marketable, powerful character. Her journey from scorned wife to a producer who demands a seat at the table is perhaps the show’s most explicit feminist arc. She learns that her value isn’t tied to her husband or her past fame, but to her own intelligence and ambition.
- Carmen Wade (Britney Young): Coming from a family of male wrestling legends, Carmen feels trapped by her family’s expectations and her own shyness. In the ring, as “Machu Picchu,” she finally finds a place where her size and strength are celebrated, not hidden.
The show seems to argue that empowerment isn’t always a gift bestowed by a perfect system. More often, it’s something women must seize for themselves from imperfect, and even demeaning, circumstances. They take the objectification inherent in the premise and turn it into a source of physical confidence and professional pride.
A Celebration of Female Solidarity and Its Complexities
At its heart, GLOW is a powerful testament to the importance of female relationships. While wrestling is the backdrop, the show’s core drama and emotional weight come from the bonds forged between the women. It masterfully avoids simplistic tropes, presenting friendships that are as fraught and complicated as they are supportive and life-affirming.
The Ruth and Debbie Dynamic
The central relationship between Ruth and Debbie is the series’ anchor. It begins with the ultimate betrayal: Ruth sleeping with Debbie’s husband. The show doesn’t excuse Ruth’s actions but uses the fallout to explore the deep, tangled history of their friendship. Their rivalry in the ring as Zoya and Liberty Belle becomes a metaphor for their real-life conflict. It’s a space where they can physically, and emotionally, work through their anger, jealousy, and pain in a way that society doesn’t typically allow women to do.
Their journey is not a simple path from enemies back to best friends. It’s a slow, painful negotiation of forgiveness and respect. They challenge each other, they hurt each other, but they also see each other more clearly than anyone else. This nuanced portrayal is a profoundly feminist act, rejecting the tired “catfight” narrative in favor of a story about two powerful women learning to coexist and eventually collaborate, recognizing that their success is intertwined.
The Found Family
Beyond Ruth and Debbie, GLOW excels at building a believable ensemble of women who form a found family. They come from vastly different backgrounds—an aspiring med student, a stuntwoman, a hairdresser, a shy wrestling legacy—and are thrown together by circumstance. They bicker, compete, and misunderstand each other, but they also create a powerful support system.
- Mentorship: We see this in the relationship between veteran stuntwoman Cherry Bang (Sydelle Noel) and the gentle giant Carmen. Cherry pushes Carmen hard, but she does so because she sees her potential and wants her to succeed in an industry that can be brutal.
- Allyship: The exploration of Arthie Premkumar (Sunita Mani) and Yolanda Rivas’s (Shakira Barrera) romantic relationship is handled with sensitivity. Their bond adds another layer to the tapestry of sisterhood, exploring LGBTQ+ identity within the group’s dynamic.
- Collective Action: When faced with threats, whether it’s a creepy cameraman or a predatory network executive, the women learn to band together. They discover that their collective power is far greater than their individual strength.
This focus on community is a cornerstone of feminist theory. GLOW beautifully illustrates that while individual empowerment is important, true, lasting change comes from solidarity.
Subverting Stereotypes by Leaning Into Them
One of the most challenging, and therefore most interesting, feminist questions in GLOW revolves around its use of stereotypes. The wrestling personas are, on the surface, a parade of offensive caricatures. We have Arthie, a pre-med student of Indian descent, forced to play “Beirut the Mad Bomber,” and Jenny Chey (Ellen Wong), who is Cambodian-American, playing the subservient “Fortune Cookie.”
It’s a minefield of potential problems, but the show navigates it with remarkable intelligence. Instead of just presenting these stereotypes, GLOW constantly interrogates them. It shows the women’s discomfort and gives them the agency to question, and eventually subvert, these roles.
For instance, Arthie struggles deeply with the racism of her “Beirut” character. Her journey becomes a meta-commentary on representation itself. She recognizes the harm in the stereotype but also learns to manipulate it, using the audience’s prejudice against them to become a more effective heel. Jenny, too, eventually pushes back against the limitations of her Fortune Cookie persona. The show makes it clear that this is not an ideal situation, but it reflects the limited, often racist, roles available to women of color in 1980s media. By showing the women grappling with these roles, GLOW critiques the very system it’s depicting. It’s a clever use of satire, demonstrating how women can find a measure of control even when forced to play a rigged game.
Tackling Real-World Women’s Issues Head-On
GLOW grounds its glittery, high-octane world in the very real, and often unglamorous, struggles that women face. It weaves a rich tapestry of social commentary into its narrative, making its feminist themes all the more resonant. The show isn’t just about wrestling; it’s about what it means to be a woman navigating a patriarchal world.
The table below highlights some of the key issues the show tackles with nuance and empathy:
| Key Women’s Issue | How GLOW Explores It |
|---|---|
| Work-Life Balance & Motherhood | Debbie’s arc is a masterclass in depicting the struggles of a working mother. She fights for a producer credit, battles guilt over leaving her baby, and constantly has to prove her professional worth in a way her male counterparts do not. Her exhaustion and ambition are palpable. |
| Reproductive Choice | In Season 1, the show deals with an unwanted pregnancy and a character’s decision to have an abortion. The topic is handled with remarkable grace and a complete lack of judgment, portraying it as a healthcare decision made by a woman in control of her own body and future. |
| Sexual Harassment & Power Dynamics | The show addresses the “casting couch” culture through Ruth’s past trauma and, in later seasons, depicts a network executive’s predatory behavior. It powerfully shows the vulnerability of women in the industry and the strength they find in speaking up together. |
| Economic Independence | For many of the women, GLOW is their first taste of real financial freedom. The show subtly underscores how economic agency is a fundamental component of liberation, giving them choices and options they never had before. |
| Body Positivity and Physicality | In a world obsessed with one specific body type, GLOW celebrates female bodies of all shapes and sizes. The focus is never just on how the women’s bodies look, but on what they can do. It reclaims the female body as a source of strength, athleticism, and power, not just an object of desire. |
What About the Men? The Case of Sam Sylvia
No analysis of GLOW‘s feminism would be complete without looking at its central male character, Sam Sylvia. Is he a feminist ally? Absolutely not, at least not at first. Sam is the embodiment of the male gaze—a cynical, misogynistic director who calls the women “unfuckable” and sees them as interchangeable parts.
However, his character arc is crucial to the show’s feminist message. Sam doesn’t have a sudden, neat conversion to feminism. Instead, he is slowly, and often grudgingly, forced to respect the women he directs. He sees their creativity, their dedication, and their raw talent. He begins to see them not as objects, but as collaborators. He fights for them, writes more complex narratives for them (in the context of wrestling), and eventually becomes their biggest champion, even if he’d never admit it.
Sam’s journey suggests that male allyship isn’t about being perfect; it’s about listening, learning, and ceding space. The women of GLOW succeed not because Sam graciously “allows” them to, but because their talent and hard work are so undeniable that he has no choice but to acknowledge it. Their triumphs are all the more meaningful because they are earned in spite of, and not because of, the patriarchal figure in charge.
Conclusion: The Enduring Feminist Legacy of GLOW
The premature cancellation of GLOW left fans heartbroken, denying them a final, conclusive chapter. And yet, its legacy as a landmark feminist show is already secure. Over three seasons, it provided a platform for a large, diverse female cast to shine, telling stories that were funny, heartbreaking, and empowering all at once.
So, is GLOW a feminist show? Without a doubt. Its feminism is not clean, simple, or didactic. It’s a feminism of the trenches—forged in the sweaty, sequined, often-degrading world of 1980s wrestling. It acknowledges that the path to empowerment is rarely a straight line. It’s about finding strength in unexpected places, building community amid chaos, and learning to love the powerful, complicated woman in the mirror, and the one fighting alongside you in the ring. GLOW is a glitter-covered, spandex-clad testament to the fact that female power doesn’t always look pretty, but it’s always worth fighting for.