This Shouldn't Be Special, It Should Be Standard

How Bryce Dallas Howard and Argylle are paving a new way for 2024 – and the future

My attempt at a copyright-free graphic. I of course had to include the cat :)

I went to the movies the other day with my husband, which was my first time in a theater since December when I saw the Eras Tour movie (and if I wasn’t jealous of Taylor Swift already, I definitely was after that). We went because he wanted to see something called Argylle, a movie I hadn’t heard of but assumed would be some sort of action film. I briefly watched the trailer to mentally prepare myself, and was pleasantly surprised when it looked like I might actually enjoy it.

The premise itself was intriguing: A writer of a successful series of spy novels (named after her main character, Agent Argylle) discovers she’s unknowingly predicted the existence of a real-life covert spy organization. In fact, many of the plot details depicted in her books mirror their actual operations. Fiction and nonfiction begin to blur, and action and drama naturally ensue.

Coming from the creator of Kingsman, it’s an obviously outlandish, over-the-top espionage film with countless unrealistic components – including a cat who spends most of its time getting jostled around in a backpack, somehow missing endless streams of gunfire and never needing to relieve itself. However, there is one aspect that I found particularly realistic, something equal parts refreshing and rare.

Argylle begins as you’d expect such a film to, with a siren-like woman in a stylishly impractical outfit (Dua Lipa) and a chiseled male lead (Henry Cavill). The actors are both who you’d expect – who we’ve been conditioned to accept – in these roles. The scene cuts and we meet their creator, Elly Conway, the author played by Bryce Dallas Howard. She sits at her desk in front of an enormous Mac typing the end of her fifth novel, her signature red locks perfectly framing her piercing blue-green eyes.

I’ve of course seen Bryce Dallas Howard before. She’s been in several blockbuster films, including the Jurassic Park franchise, and notable television series like Black Mirror (her “Nosedive” episode still haunts me). What I noticed about her in this film was something that should be so normal it doesn’t even stand out, but unfortunately as a society we’re not quite there yet.

It wasn’t just her face that was familiar to me, it was her body type.

She looked just like so many women I see in real life. The women I see when I go to the store or the beach or my barre studio. The woman I see when I look in the mirror.

Healthy and happy.

Normal and beautiful.

However, as refreshing as it was to see, I immediately shamed myself. It’s 2024, Lauren, we’re not commenting on other people’s bodies anymore. I was nervous to even be thinking these thoughts. Was I wrong to classify someone else’s body as “normal?” Is the impact of that classification derogatory, even if that wasn’t my intention?

In the car after the movie, I broached the subject with my husband knowing I was in a safe space. I asked nonchalantly what he thought of the movie, of the actors, of the lead. His response was as vague as my question. He thought the movie was funny and the actors were good. He said nothing in particular about Bryce, so I tossed out my thoughts, commenting on how she seemed strong, like she could actually defend herself against an oncoming threat like her character does in the movie. He agreed, but I sensed it didn’t stand out to him that that was unusual. Honestly, bless him for that – bless him for having somehow shielded himself from a shred of the toxicity of society in order to have a healthy body image for himself and others.

This, of course, got me thinking.

Who is the anomaly in this situation: me or my husband?

Am I unique in noticing, or is my husband for not?

So, of course, I googled it.

All I had to do was search “Bryce Dallas Howard” and the literal first result under the basics (photos, age, movies, etc.) was a Time article titled “The Power of Bryce Dallas Howard’s Body in Argylle.”

Boom, there you have it. I am not the anomaly – and I couldn’t have written a better title.

The author of the article was lucky enough to have interviewed Bryce and starts the piece with a potent quote:

“I’m retired from talking about my body.”

The writer then goes on to describe how she felt watching the movie:

I had gone to a screening a few weeks earlier, and I could not take my eyes off Howard. She looked like so many women I knew. O.K., more beautiful than most women I know, but with a familiar silhouette. The feeling was reminiscent of the first time I saw a female in an action movie who could hold her own. (It was the drinking scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, regrettably, but still!) A bit like terror, and a bit like hope.

Yes, I thought. Me too! My thoughts exactly.

She then echoes my initial feelings of shame, stating how it “feels taboo to even talk about this,” with “this” referring to Howard’s body type and the fact that she’s what the fashion industry often deems “not sample size.” She mentions how “a beautiful, smart, non-sample-size woman in a $200 million action movie by a major director should not be that rare in 2024, but it is.”

Yes, I thought again. Exactly. She took the words right out of my mouth. It should not be rare – it should not be special – but somehow, it is. It should be standard by now, but somehow, it still isn’t.

The author continues, stating how it’s not necessarily unusual to see a “non-sample-size” woman in a movie these days, which is true. She references Melissa McCarthy and Rebel Wilson, both of whom are “non-skinny women,” but whose bodies are part of their character and the overall joke like Rebel’s “Fat Amy” in Pitch Perfect. The difference with Argylle is that Bryce’s body isn’t addressed in any way. She just is who she is and wears what she wants, including a glittering gold evening gown, just as Dua does at the beginning of the film, and looks stunning.

Bryce adds:

“It's very strange that that's been something that's been specifically policed, where people hiring actresses say, ‘We want you, but 20 pounds less you,’” says Howard. “What it means is the person who would be what is called straight-sized, or medium, is being forced for a period of time to become fatigued, which is not sustainable.”

“We want you 20 pounds less you.” Oof, that part got me. That’s honestly how it feels sometimes, not just as an actor in Hollywood, I obviously don’t know anything about that, but as a member of society. It often feels like we are being told as women to take up less space, both physically and otherwise. We’re being encouraged to be less ourselves, to be less in general.

As weird as it feels to talk about someone else’s body – even in a celebratory way – it feels like a conversation worth having. Because maybe it can be the conversation starter that changes the discourse for the future.

Maybe it will help us as a society get to the point where there’s representation everywhere in our media, not just in body type, but in all the others.

Maybe, for once, we can just be ourselves and that will be all we need to be.