Some characters just stick—not because of CGI, budget, or A-listers, but because they echo something deeper. They’re timeless, symbolic, and strangely familiar. That’s no accident.
Just like Tarot cards draw from universal themes, many iconic movie roles channel these same archetypes, often without even trying.
Think Neo stepping into his destiny in The Matrix. Or Maximus challenging fate in Gladiator. Or Amélie, creating quiet magic in everyday life.
These characters are more than just roles—they’re cinematic reflections of the Major Arcana, the 22 foundational cards in the Tarot deck that represent major life themes.
When people ask about the meaning of Tarot cards, they’re often searching for something that helps them understand themselves. Film does the same. It reflects who we are, who we could be, and what we fear or long for.
In this article, we’ll match some of the most recognizable film characters with their Tarot card twins—creating a visual, emotional, and symbolic map that makes both the cards and the characters even more powerful.
The Fool – Neo (The Matrix)
Let’s start at zero. The Fool card marks the beginning of the Tarot’s journey—a leap of faith into the unknown. It’s a card of courage, innocence, and potential. Sound familiar?
Neo’s arc in The Matrix is the perfect Fool’s journey. He starts unsure, unaware of his power, and disconnected from the bigger picture. But like the Fool stepping off the cliff with only a knapsack and a dream, Neo takes the plunge—literally swallowing the red pill and stepping into a wild, unpredictable path toward truth.
The Fool reminds us that belief in yourself is often the first—and scariest—step.
The Magician – Tony Stark (Iron Man)
The Magician is a master of tools, channeling energy into form. Enter Tony Stark—genius inventor, billionaire, and reluctant hero. With the Magician’s signature hand gestures (as if calling energy into action), Tony is always manifesting something: suits, solutions, and new identities.
The Magician card teaches us to align intention with action, just like Tony eventually learns to do. It’s not about the tools—it’s about how you use them.
The High Priestess – Eleven (Stranger Things)
She’s mysterious, intuitive, and connected to something beyond the veil. The High Priestess is the card of hidden knowledge and subconscious power. That’s Eleven in a nutshell.
She may not say much, but her inner knowing and psychic strength drive much of the action. Like the Priestess, she holds space between two worlds—science and spirit, silence and power, the ordinary and the otherworldly.
When this card shows up in a reading, it’s often a reminder to listen more than speak. Eleven, with her wordless stares and emotional depth, does just that.
The Empress – Marge Gunderson (Fargo)
The Empress is warmth, nurturing, and quiet strength. But don’t confuse softness with weakness. Marge Gunderson, the pregnant police chief in Fargo, embodies the Empress like no other.
She’s calm under pressure, protects life, and leads with compassion. Whether it’s solving crimes or encouraging her husband, she shows how maternal energy doesn’t mean passivity—it means presence.
This card is a celebration of life, care, and abundance in its most grounded form.
The Emperor – Maximus (Gladiator)
Structure. Power. Authority. The Emperor is the backbone of the Tarot. And Maximus, the stoic general turned gladiator, wears that backbone like armor.
Even when stripped of his rank, Maximus still leads, protects, and fights for something bigger than himself. His moral clarity, leadership, and unshakable presence show what the Emperor looks like when he’s earned—not inherited—his crown.
It’s not about domination; it’s about holding structure when others fall apart.
The Hierophant – Mr. Keating (Dead Poets Society)
The Hierophant represents tradition, wisdom, and teaching. But he can also be the rebel inside the system. Mr. Keating challenges conformity at a rigid boarding school by introducing poetry, passion, and personal voice.
He represents a modern take on the Hierophant—not one who reinforces dogma, but one who transforms it. He offers sacred guidance not from a pulpit, but from a desk.
This card is often misunderstood as strictly “traditional,” but in film, it shines when tradition is questioned in the name of truth.
The Lovers – Amélie (Amélie)
Connection. Choice. Harmony. The Lovers card is not just about romance—it’s about emotional risk. And Amélie, the quirky Parisian who hides behind acts of kindness, must eventually decide to step into her own heart.
She watches others fall in love but keeps her own feelings locked away—until she finally chooses to leap. The Lovers is about integration: of fear and desire, of solitude and companionship.
Amélie teaches us that love isn’t just something that happens—it’s something you choose.
The Chariot – Furiosa (Mad Max: Fury Road)
Drive. Direction. Determination. The Chariot is a card of forward motion and focused energy, even under pressure. And no one drives quite like Furiosa.
She’s literally behind the wheel in Fury Road, but the symbolism goes deeper. Furiosa harnesses chaos (the War Boys, the desert, her own trauma) and keeps moving with purpose. The Chariot is about winning—not just externally, but by mastering your internal doubts.
Every desert has a path forward, and Furiosa never stops carving hers.
Strength – Clarice Starling (The Silence of the Lambs)
Strength isn’t about muscle—it’s about grace under fire. Clarice Starling holds her own in a male-dominated world, navigates the mind games of Hannibal Lecter, and stays true to her instincts.
This card is often depicted with a woman gently closing a lion’s mouth. Clarice doesn’t overpower—she outwits, outlasts, and moves through fear without letting it define her.
Strength is quiet confidence. It’s staying in the room when it would be easier to run.
The Hermit – Joel (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind)
The Hermit retreats not to escape, but to reflect. Joel, in Eternal Sunshine, literally retreats into his memories to understand love, loss, and regret.
This introspective journey—wandering through mental landscapes and reliving pain—is classic Hermit energy. The card often shows a figure with a lantern, lighting the way for themselves and others. Joel’s experience becomes a meditation on what’s worth remembering—and what we risk by forgetting.
Sometimes growth means going inward first.
Death – Wanda Maximoff (Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness)
Death isn’t about literal endings—it’s about transformation. And Wanda’s evolution from grieving mother to near-villain (and possibly back again) reflects the messy, painful beauty of the Death card.
Wanda lets go of what she can’t change. She wrestles with grief, identity, and power in ways that break and rebuild her. Death, as a card, doesn’t kill—it clears.
Wanda shows us what it means to face change head-on, even when it hurts.
The Star – Paddington (Paddington 2)
Hope. Optimism. Restoration. The Star arrives after a storm—offering light, laughter, and renewal. Enter Paddington.
In a world that can feel cynical, Paddington represents pure-hearted hope. He believes in people, brings out their best, and turns even a prison into a place of joy.
This card reminds us to keep looking up. Paddington, with his marmalade sandwiches and unshakeable optimism, is living proof that kindness still works.
Why It All Connects
You don’t need a deck of cards to feel what the Tarot symbolizes—you just need a story. Film gives us a language of emotion. Tarot gives us a language of energy. And when the two intersect, something clicks.
These archetypes aren’t locked in old books or crystal shops—they’re alive in the characters we quote, root for, and cry over.
So the next time you pull a card—or watch a movie—ask yourself: What part of me is on that screen? And what story am I being asked to live?
Because maybe the real magic is that you’re both the reader and the main character.
