Character Loyalty
Sometimes I think I watch TV differently than most of the world, and I'm not sure my way is healthy.
I'd sort of assumed that my next LJ post would be about my new home state, new job, new apartment, new personal and fiscal responsibility... you know, SOMETHING about graduating, moving hundreds of miles away, and beginning the first chapter of my adult life. But this is the Internet, so let's be real.
It's not exactly a mystery that two people can watch the same program on TV, and yet be watching two entirely different shows. The box might say "The Lord of the Rings", for example, but that didn't stop my mother from enjoying "A Scenic Tour of New Zealand: Medieval Edition", while, three feet away, my sister watched "Aragorn's Epic Journey, Now with 200% More Scruff" and I wondered why no one would give Faramir a hug. Everybody watches for something different: The backstory, the suspense, the humor, the scenery, the costumes...you get my point. It's one of these things, or several, but it's always limited and always personal.
I've always considered myself, with a drop of undue pride, a Character Person. The plot should be sensible, sure, but at the end of the day it's just a vehicle for character development. I grew up liking fantasy and sci fi because, to me, they pushed characters to their limits in a way that most genres don't. Familial tension and self-identity struggles, sure, now let's face this girl off with an evil overlord and we'll really see what she's made of! Heroes were born on the battlefield, and romances tempered by the breath of fire dragons were surely stronger than anything reality had to offer. (In retrospect, this perception is/was probably due more to child!me's inability to relate to quieter developments in realistic/non-fiction characters, but I'm getting off topic)
The problem is, I'm beginning to realize is that I'm not just a Character Person... I'm a That Character Person. No matter how much I lecture myself to the contrary, I tend to latch on to one or two characters to the exclusion of all others. That isn't to say that I never have an emotional response to other characters, but rather that the strongest emotions will almost always be somehow tied to my character(s) of choice. Other characters generally form two groups: 1) Those who enable or highlight my character's awesomeness, or, 2) those who get in the way.
Most of the time, this isn't an issue. Am I watching Fringe as the creators intended, or is it first and foremost The Olivia Dunham Show to me? Doesn't really matter, since Olivia has always been and, in some capacity, will always be the main character. Same thing with The Gwen Cooper Chronicles, Rick & Kate Plus Eight or so Mildly Amusing Sidekicks, or the Life and Times of Lady Mary.
For obvious reasons, it's a problem with Doctor Who.
And... Drumroll Please! It's awkward confession time:
I haven't managed to properly extend my character bonding abilities to anybody except Rose.
Cognitively, I recognize that Martha was strong and brilliant and nuanced and awesome, and Donna was an incredible friend and a wonderful, albeit tragic, character study. And the Doctor is, well... The Doctor. I have an enormous respect for those characters and most others, particularly in the RTD era-- they hold my interest when I watch them, I like thinking about them, they often make me laugh. They're not MY character, but they have enough merit to compel me in spite of my own psychology, at least for the minutes they're on my screen. I'm embarrassed to admit, though, that the best characterization in the world might not have saved them had they fallen into category 2, and Gotten In The Way.
Yes, that's right, I'm the Rose Fan that your mother warned you about, and I can't seem to rationalize myself out of that mindset. RTD's clear affection for Rose meant that this was never much of a problem for season 3 through the End of Time, but Moffat is a whole different story. Don't get me wrong, I think his writing is problematic for a whole host of reasons that have nothing to do with my bias: His characterization, particularly of female characters, is inconsistent and often rests on weak, sexist cliches, and he seems to value flash and witty one-liners more than substance. For two years, now, I've been able to point to these flaws and say "there, that's why I haven't enjoyed the show as much recently-- the characterization is too weak!" The real reason, though, (or at least, highly prevalent reason) is that I've noted Moffat's seeming constant desire to one-up the show's history. Even when RTD was showrunner, Moffat's episodes tended to feature his own creations edging out the companions for the limelight (Reinette, Sally Sparrow, River Song), and little seems to have changed now that he holds the reigns. His plots must be BIGGER! And SCARIER! And SHINIER!... and I feel like I'm constantly on tenterhooks, wondering when that's going to extend to "his characters must have a deeper, more meaningful connection to the Doctor. Rose who?"
My feelings towards the new companion really forced me to face up to my less-than-flattering fears in this regard. (And before I continue, I should note that, at this point, I have NOT seen 7x01). There is absolutely no acceptable reason that I should feel anything towards Oswin besides cautious hope that she be thoroughly loveable and well-characterized. And yet my worry is only a little "what if Moffat screws up her characterization?", and way too much "what if she's smart and flirty and perfect and everyone loves her and the Doctor loves her and--"
-- and what if, no matter how hard I try, I just can't?
I'd sort of assumed that my next LJ post would be about my new home state, new job, new apartment, new personal and fiscal responsibility... you know, SOMETHING about graduating, moving hundreds of miles away, and beginning the first chapter of my adult life. But this is the Internet, so let's be real.
It's not exactly a mystery that two people can watch the same program on TV, and yet be watching two entirely different shows. The box might say "The Lord of the Rings", for example, but that didn't stop my mother from enjoying "A Scenic Tour of New Zealand: Medieval Edition", while, three feet away, my sister watched "Aragorn's Epic Journey, Now with 200% More Scruff" and I wondered why no one would give Faramir a hug. Everybody watches for something different: The backstory, the suspense, the humor, the scenery, the costumes...you get my point. It's one of these things, or several, but it's always limited and always personal.
I've always considered myself, with a drop of undue pride, a Character Person. The plot should be sensible, sure, but at the end of the day it's just a vehicle for character development. I grew up liking fantasy and sci fi because, to me, they pushed characters to their limits in a way that most genres don't. Familial tension and self-identity struggles, sure, now let's face this girl off with an evil overlord and we'll really see what she's made of! Heroes were born on the battlefield, and romances tempered by the breath of fire dragons were surely stronger than anything reality had to offer. (In retrospect, this perception is/was probably due more to child!me's inability to relate to quieter developments in realistic/non-fiction characters, but I'm getting off topic)
The problem is, I'm beginning to realize is that I'm not just a Character Person... I'm a That Character Person. No matter how much I lecture myself to the contrary, I tend to latch on to one or two characters to the exclusion of all others. That isn't to say that I never have an emotional response to other characters, but rather that the strongest emotions will almost always be somehow tied to my character(s) of choice. Other characters generally form two groups: 1) Those who enable or highlight my character's awesomeness, or, 2) those who get in the way.
Most of the time, this isn't an issue. Am I watching Fringe as the creators intended, or is it first and foremost The Olivia Dunham Show to me? Doesn't really matter, since Olivia has always been and, in some capacity, will always be the main character. Same thing with The Gwen Cooper Chronicles, Rick & Kate Plus Eight or so Mildly Amusing Sidekicks, or the Life and Times of Lady Mary.
For obvious reasons, it's a problem with Doctor Who.
And... Drumroll Please! It's awkward confession time:
I haven't managed to properly extend my character bonding abilities to anybody except Rose.
Cognitively, I recognize that Martha was strong and brilliant and nuanced and awesome, and Donna was an incredible friend and a wonderful, albeit tragic, character study. And the Doctor is, well... The Doctor. I have an enormous respect for those characters and most others, particularly in the RTD era-- they hold my interest when I watch them, I like thinking about them, they often make me laugh. They're not MY character, but they have enough merit to compel me in spite of my own psychology, at least for the minutes they're on my screen. I'm embarrassed to admit, though, that the best characterization in the world might not have saved them had they fallen into category 2, and Gotten In The Way.
Yes, that's right, I'm the Rose Fan that your mother warned you about, and I can't seem to rationalize myself out of that mindset. RTD's clear affection for Rose meant that this was never much of a problem for season 3 through the End of Time, but Moffat is a whole different story. Don't get me wrong, I think his writing is problematic for a whole host of reasons that have nothing to do with my bias: His characterization, particularly of female characters, is inconsistent and often rests on weak, sexist cliches, and he seems to value flash and witty one-liners more than substance. For two years, now, I've been able to point to these flaws and say "there, that's why I haven't enjoyed the show as much recently-- the characterization is too weak!" The real reason, though, (or at least, highly prevalent reason) is that I've noted Moffat's seeming constant desire to one-up the show's history. Even when RTD was showrunner, Moffat's episodes tended to feature his own creations edging out the companions for the limelight (Reinette, Sally Sparrow, River Song), and little seems to have changed now that he holds the reigns. His plots must be BIGGER! And SCARIER! And SHINIER!... and I feel like I'm constantly on tenterhooks, wondering when that's going to extend to "his characters must have a deeper, more meaningful connection to the Doctor. Rose who?"
My feelings towards the new companion really forced me to face up to my less-than-flattering fears in this regard. (And before I continue, I should note that, at this point, I have NOT seen 7x01). There is absolutely no acceptable reason that I should feel anything towards Oswin besides cautious hope that she be thoroughly loveable and well-characterized. And yet my worry is only a little "what if Moffat screws up her characterization?", and way too much "what if she's smart and flirty and perfect and everyone loves her and the Doctor loves her and--"
-- and what if, no matter how hard I try, I just can't?