The ‘Manic Pixie Dream Girl’ Isn't Dead—She Has Just Evolved

She has all the makings of an MPDG—her disinterest in being Henry’s coeditor rattles him out of his ennui, as does her nonchalant attitude, mysterious injury, and affinity for poetry. “I think you’re the most confusing human being I have ever met,” he tells her at one point, to which she replies, “I think I’m just the most confused human being you’ve ever met and that confuses you.” Deep. 

I don’t mean to be cynical—and I should state that I haven’t read the book written by Krystal Sutherland, which possibly lends much more nuance to Grace. However, in this adaptation by screenwriter and director Richard Tanne, she simply feels like another piece of clay Henry fails to mend. 

One could argue that Grace is not a Manic Pixie Dream Girl because she has her own history: Before joining Henry’s class, she was—spoiler—in an accident that took the life of her long-term boyfriend and left her with a severe injury. I’m sure many would point out the story is a warning against Henry’s mounting obsession with a girl who has her own life and trauma to work through. The problem is that we never get to see the world through her eyes.

In 2019, Josh Schwartz, the creator of The O.C. and Gossip Girl, faced a similar dilemma when he adapted the John Green Y.A. novel Looking For Alaska for television. Alaska Young (played by Kristine Froseth) is another emotionally scarred young woman battling clinical depression while a painfully average classmate seeks his own “great perhaps” by panting after her at every turn.

Though the novel was beloved by many, it was also criticized for invoking the MPDG archetype. At least with episodic television, Schwartz was able to devote significantly more time to Alaska and added in many scenes solely from her perspective. “The audience is able to follow these characters in hopefully more fulfilling ways and understand Alaska’s journey, why she is the way she is and seeing her in private, not only as Miles sees her,” Schwartz explained to Cosmopolitan at the time. This added point of view made all the difference, I think. 

But Chemical Hearts never found a way to explore Grace's worldview—despite strong performances from Reinhart and Abrams. In the end, Grace and Henry part: She’s taking a gap year to focus on her mental health, while he’s suddenly wiser, completed his college essay, and is ready to take on the world—all thanks to Grace but without her.

And just like that, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl has risen from the grave.

Emily Tannenbaum is a freelance contributor and the weekend editor at Glamour. Follow her on Twitter.