Sitting in the theater for a superhero film doesn't usually come with an expectation of deep psychological reflection. The beats of the genre often follow Campbell's hero's journey, albeit often with just cursory attention to the underworld experience. Thunderbolts* (2025) shoves the trends and tropes of the genre aside and dives headfirst into the darkness of the psyche’s underworld.

The shadow is one of the many archetypes that populate our psyches. According to Jungian psychology, the shadow is frequently associated with one’s personal unconscious: everyone has a shadow, but every shadow is different, depending on its contents

We are in fertile and vibrant transpersonal psychic territory from the first FADE IN of Michael Mann’s Collateral with actors Jamie Foxx, Tom Cruise, and Jada Pinkett Smith as Cab driver Max, his homicidal hit man passenger, Vincent, and a high-end public defender, Annie Farrell. Full disclosure. This is not a movie review. I don’t care if you liked it or if you hated it. Our task this month is to identify the presence of an archetype, The Shadow, as it manifests in cinema.

There are films that depict history, and there are films that distill it into myth. Shekhar Kapur’s Elizabeth (1998) is one such mythic work, not because it meticulously tracks the political maneuvers of the Tudor court, but because it translates the life of Queen Elizabeth I (r. 1558–1603) into a sacred rite of passage. The film therefore moves beyond biography and becomes the chronicle of a soul initiation.

The film The Lost King (2022) tells the fictionalized story of a real woman who, inspired by Shakespeare’s fictionalized play Richard III, successfully led the discovery of the real remains of King Richard III of England. Although the movie includes no literal, living kings or queens, it revolves around the archetype of the Sovereign in the form of the historical Richard (Harry Lloyd) and an utterly charming, modern-day apparition of him visible only to the protagonist, Phili

The Sovereign archetype embodies power and the expression of the vital energies of life in the world. Thus, the Sovereign can use their power to enliven or extinguish life, use their authority to help create a stable world where others can grow, or become authoritarian, controlling, and life-suppressing. Wonder Woman depicts both aspects of the Sovereign archetype, and we as viewers are able to see how the world responds.

As we enter into the month of July in this year’s MythBlast series, we turn to filmic expressions of the archetype of the Sovereign (occasionally called the Ruler or sometimes split into the binary of the King and Queen). While certainly this archetype appears in many societal structures—families, businesses, religious institutions—its presence in politics often garners the most attention.

I admit, somewhat wryly: I generally avoid horror. I don’t seek out slasher films, and I’d rather skip the books that keep me awake with my heart racing—I get my adrenaline hits elsewhere. But horror with comedy? That’s a different alchemy altogether. There is something fascinating in the juxtaposition—the grotesque sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with the ridiculous. When horror and humor converge, something mythic stirs.

The death of Bill Moyers is not only the passing of a journalist or public intellectual. It is the loss of a distinctive American voice that, for decades, has asked us to think more deeply, remember our humanity, and explore with wonder the mysteries of life. The New York Times obituary, quoting Peter J. Boyer, the journalist and author, called Moyers “a rare and powerful voice, a kind of secular evangelist.”

In an unconventional take on Selfhood and healing in Indian cinema, the 2016 film Dear Zindagi (meaning “Dear Life”) opens up a space for modern viewers to engage in a softer foray into the inner vulnerabilities, insecurities, and emotional struggles alchemical in finding oneself, much like the archetypal healing journey.

The Healer, longed for by those in search of cures, is yet an intimidating, perhaps unrelatable, archetype, providing a vital act of care but not typically the protagonist of the myth. How then, you may rightly ask, can I suggest that the titular heroine of Sean Baker’s Anora (2024), a twenty-three-year-old sex worker played by Mikey Madison, is one of the great Healers we have seen on the silver screen in many years?

Robert Eggers’ 2024 masterpiece Nosferatu affords us a powerful mythic mirror of the collective spiritual climate that produced it. Beyond the personal or childhood issues that motivated Eggers to re-make Nosferatu, we must contend with the universal transcendent appeal of the story and characters as they open up the mythic dimensions of the film.

For Elphaba, her powers expand beyond the boundaries of what is deemed acceptable to the society around her. Her healing journey is one of depth, a psychological shift of self-acceptance that allows her to see the gifts in what has been considered her affliction, to push against society’s limits and step into the power she has always held.

The BBC’s Sherlock offers a fresh, witty, and ironic take on the Wise archetype. By juxtaposing Sherlock's exceptional intellectual capabilities with his social awkwardness and moral ambiguities, the series offers a more complex and nuanced portrayal than traditional representations.

Guided by Ultima’s wisdom and inspiration, Antonio’s story arises from the center of those “conflicts of the soul.” Antonio and Ultima, however, have no conflict. An unshakeable bond unites them, even though they are young and old, male and female, innocent and wise. This love enables Antonio to occupy a place of witnessing the conflicts around him rather than reacting to them, allowing them to become available for Anaya’s creative work of storytelling. 

Gandalf embodies this dynamic spirit. He stands not as a relic of past glories, but as a living guide, willing to sacrifice and be remade for the sake of those who come after. He reminds us that true eldership is not about possessing knowledge—but about embodying wisdom.

embodying two of the most enduring archetypes Joseph Campbell identified in his studies of mythology: the Wise One and the Mother Goddess. In doing so, Maz Kanata offers a new way of seeing what it means to guide a heroic figure.

Gods and archetypes, as James Hillman loved to point out, never show up alone but in groups and, when the occasion arises, assemble the pantheon from which they rule the universe. The seeker is an unconscious curator of other archetypes.

At the heart of the Seeker's journey lies what we might call a "sacred restlessness"—that divine discomfort that propels us beyond comfortable boundaries.

They pool their courage and skills. The collective capacity of a team of Seekers is far more than the sum of each individual’s.