It Was Never About the Hair: Why Annabeth Chase’s Hair Colour Mattered, Until it Didn’t
Editor-in-Chief Chantelle Mackintosh examines where book-to-screen adaptations miss the mark in casting characters accurately, reminiscing about her childhood love for Rick Riordan’s best-selling series, Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
As an avid reader of the entire Percy Jackson franchise, I was, of course, severely disappointed by the films. Teenage me couldn’t properly articulate what annoyed me most about it, other than that it was just all wrong. The plot changed and didn’t make sense, the characters were completely different people, and Annabeth wasn’t blonde. I became fixated on this last fact but couldn’t figure out why it bothered me so much. But now, after years of learning and growing, I can finally figure out why it bothered me. It wasn’t about the hair, but what it represented.

As an avid reader of the entire Percy Jackson franchise, I was, of course, severely disappointed by the films. Teenage me couldn’t properly articulate what annoyed me most about them, other than they were just… wrong. So I expressed it the only way I knew how, by taking my feelings out on something completely undeserved, Annabeth’s hair colour. She wasn’t blonde, she was brunette. Now I’m not parasocial and did not take any of my feelings out on the actors or writers, but my poor, poor parents were on the receiving end of many a rant (sorry guys!). Why did her hair colour matter so much? Looking back now, I finally understand what bothered me.
It was never about the hair, but what it represented. Not just for the character, but for women.
If you were a ‘normal’ kid growing up, you probably didn’t spend all your time devouring Percy Jackson and the Olympians, but you do you. For those out of the know, Percy Jackson is a middle-grade fantasy series by Rick Riordan which follows Percy Jackson, a dyslexic, ADHD twelve-year-old who discovers he is the son of Poseidon and is suddenly thrust into a world of Greek gods, monsters, and ancient prophecies.
Annabeth Chase is one of Percy’s friends. She’s the daughter of Athena and is fiercely intelligent and determined, embodying the strategist trope in contrast to Percy’s impulsiveness. She’s confident, if emotionally guarded and constantly driven to prove herself.
The series has been adapted multiple times (like any good piece of media) across film, stage and television. The first two books (The Lightning Thief and The Sea of Monsters) were adapted into films by 20th Century Fox in 2010 and 2013. Next, the first book was also adapted into a musical by Rob Rokicki and Joe Tracz, which premiered Off-Broadway in 2014 before opening on Broadway and touring internationally. However, for the sake of this article, I must highlight how, despite how amazing this musical is, I can not include talk on its casting choices as it is far too varied, but go check it out! Finally, the most recent adaptation is the Disney+ Percy Jackson and the Olympians TV show, which premiered in 2023 and quickly became a fan favourite.
Across each of these adaptations, one minor detail continuously sparked debate: Annabeth’s appearance.
In the books, Annabeth is described as having blonde hair and stormy grey eyes, two physical hallmarks of her character. However, in the films, she's played by Alexandra Daddario, who is naturally a brunette with blue eyes, which she retained for the first film. Due to excessive backlash from fans, Daddario dyed her hair blonde for the second film. While a controversial choice, Daddario faced far less backlash than the next Annabeth, Leah Sava Jeffries, the first person of colour to portray the character on screen. The response was immediate, from the second the casting was announced, Jeffries faced intense racially-driven backlash from fans using her hair (and skin) colour as evidence of her unsuitability for the role.

At first glance, it seems absurd that fans cared so deeply about a fictional girl’s hair colour. After all, each adaptation brings something new to the story anyway? And yes, it is absurd. But many of these people, much like my teenage self, can’t articulate why it bothered them so much. But I think it all comes back to when each adaptation was produced.
When Riordan wrote The Lightning Thief in the early 2000s, the ‘dumb blonde’ stereotype was inescapable. Put on any teen film from the early 2000s and within five minutes you can point out the ‘dumb blonde.’ Take Karen from Mean Girls, or even Elle Woods from Legally Blonde (pre-law school, obviously), you couldn’t escape it. Blondness, especially in women, was a personality symbol of shallowness and overt femininity. If they were to undergo any character development, it was despite their blondeness. Annabeth directly challenges that stereotype.
She weaponises people’s assumptions. Others underestimate her because she looks like the stereotypical pretty blonde girl, even though she consistently outsmarts them. Her frustration throughout the series isn’t limited to her being young and female, but also to often being dismissed before she even speaks. In the 2000s and again in the 2010s, female empowerment was more important than ever. The reality is, women are severely judged for their looks; you’re either too feminine and therefore unintelligent, or too much of a tomboy to be a woman. While sexism hasn’t disappeared, using these strong yet feminine characters gave me, and many other girls, a way to explain and understand the society we’re part of.
And this is why a white, brunette Annabeth adds nothing to the character. While Daddario’s portrayal is still underestimated because she's a woman, it doesn’t go any further than that. She is simply a woman, misunderstood by a misogynistic society. But when Annabeth is blonde, she is not only misunderstood because she is a woman, but because she is a pretty, feminine one.
And that’s why Jeffries' casting is my favourite yet. Aside from being age-accurate and a phenomenal actor, Annabeth, as a young black woman, perfectly embodies everything the character represents. While the world is nowhere near perfect, audiences are starting to understand how race changes can enhance pre-existing characters (and no I’m not talking about Jacob Elordi’s casting as Heathcliff). Jeffries' casting preserves the heart of Annabeth’s character: she is misunderstood, untrustworthy, and an outcast from society.
Jeffries' portrayal of Annabeth stays truest to the character, despite her lack of blonde hair. For her skin colour not only stands in its place, but exemplifies everything her blondeness tried to say. It all comes down to Annabeth being a woman and having a visual indicator of something inherently feminine for people to disprove, and race plays a role in that, more than any hair colour ever could.
So I’m no longer upset that Annabeth isn’t blonde. While I disagree with the film's casting (for visual reasons only), I have never been happier to see less-faithful book-to-screen casting, as I couldn’t ask for better casting that fully captures one of my favourite characters.
So next time your favourite book is adapted for the screen, and something upsets you about the casting, ask yourself, why? Just because it's not what you imagined when you first read the book doesn’t mean it's not going to be just as good, or better yet, exemplify the favourite parts of your story. The details might change, but the message doesn’t.
by Chantelle Mackintosh




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