Characters and change.

            Gee thanks, Netflix. In the past few months, I’ve watched more TV series episodes than usual. With this change, I’ve realized what bothers me about TV/book series and stand-alone movies/books: the amount of character development. Here’s the difference: in order to perpetuate a series and keep conflict between characters, the characters must develop slowly, if at all. In contrast, a movie and character-focused book are most fulfilling if there is a marked change in the protagonist and antagonists. And I’ll tell you what: the lack of significant progress in series really bothers me.

            Take two TV characters that serve the same purpose: Sheldon from Big Bang Theory and Barney from How I Met Your Mother. (Actually, the whole HIMYM series feels like it never progresses, but I won’t go there.) Both guys are main—but not primary—characters who frustrate those on- and off-screen alike and create humor by shock-value. Their conflict is vital to the series and their humor is vital to its flow. They are a constant for the show, insurance for however long the series lasts. But time and time again, the same type of jokes is told and people end up unsatisfied. This is lamented, but the other characters and the viewers are just meant to get frustrated, then laugh and shrug, saying, “That’s just how he is.”

            I suppose this is true to life. People have enduring personality traits that often play out in predictable ways. However, the other end of the spectrum of how people work exists too. Stand-alone books (and short series, like trilogies) show this. The protagonist must change as the events happen to him. If he didn’t, the readers wouldn’t find it believable. Because life changes people.

C’mon, you protest, enduring flaws make people realistic and relatable. Again, I agree in principle. Still, this is where my personality, even unreasonably so, has a hard time. I strongly want to believe that people can improve, and will. If they don’t, and we just laugh with (at?) them, aren’t we essentially condoning those flaws? We’re implying we want those imperfections—no matter how much they hurt others—to persist, because they amuse us. When I keep up with a show with such characters (and I do), I'm indicating that I relate.  Implying just how deeply screwed-up I am.

Yeah, yeah, it’s just TV, and comedy at that. But deep down, I can’t shake how much this bugs me. It’s like either I’ve lost hope in the human race or I’m the butt of some grand joke by the show’s producers. As the credits roll again, I just want to shout: Change is possible! Do not limit yourself to a box—not yours, nor anyone else’s. If your flaws hurt others, especially repeatedly, seriously try to improve! If anyone, I promise to try!

Perhaps the catch here is that the TV shows I mentioned are comedies. Viewers don’t watch primarily to see some life-changing experience, but to be amused. In a decent-sized novel or full-length movie, however, usually the conflict has to be big enough to stand alone, which would naturally deeply affect the main characters—otherwise, why read or watch? Maybe dramas are more my thing. The conflict there typically is of a more serious nature, right? … Maybe. The thing is, BBT and HIMYM deal with important bottom-line problems too, but just in sillier settings and with sillier commentary. Friendships, love interests, self-esteem, goals in life… in fact, these are more relevant conflicts to my life than surviving on an island or solving crimes.

I’m not sure how to end this. I still want to watch these shows (though not daily) but they still bug me, and probably always will. Ha, I guess this character isn’t going to change amidst conflict… for now.
--Ellen

[Reading List update: Finished Bridget Jones’ Diary, Eat Pray Love, and now that I’m sick of first-person female contemporary novels, I’m about to begin Dune, classic sci-fi book.]