Insane In The Brain

Ever since Greek tragedy our heroes have come with flaws.  That's what makes the drama.  But how far to run with it? The question becomes more pressing in TV.  A movie or play has an arc, and you get immediate problem and resolution.  In a TV show the flaw just lays there, inert, waiting to spring up when convenient.  It can be trying if its too much, and ruins the flow of the regular action.

Years ago, you'd have someone like Frank Furillo on Hill Street Blues. He was an alcoholic, but that was just part of his background.  You knew if the show ran long enough he'd fall off the wagon, but the whole series wasn't about him falling apart while he headed a precinct. More recently, you had Tony Soprano, who had to see a psychiatrist because he had panic attacks.  But that was a way into his character (though I found the whole psychiatrist angle unnecessary after the first season).  Lately, Dr. House is a guy with a bad temper and a bad leg, but though they help motivate him they don't generally stop him from working on medical mysteries.

But two recent shows have a problem with the protagonist's problem, Boss and Homeland.  In Boss, the show starts with the Mayor of Chicago being diagnosed with a degenerative neurological disease that will take him out in a few years.  In Homeland, a CIA agent is bipolar, and has to take illegally-gotten medication to hide her mental condition from the government.  In both cases, these plot devices are an irritant.

Running the city of Chicago is quite enough, with numerous allies and enemies, all out for blood in one way or another.  You don't need a cheap trick to try and make it more exciting.  Wondering if the mayor will lose his train of thought, or control of his limbs, doesn't increase interest, it subtracts from the ongoing action.  Likewise, being a rogue agent chasing after a terrorist plot is more than enough--worrying whether the lead will get her meds is more exasperating than intriguing.

Perhaps the creators of these shows watched Breaking Bad and thought cool, the guy is dying, that really makes the series powerful.  But it makes sense in BB--he's a meek high school teacher who only finds the dangerous man inside when he's got nothing to lose, and a family to save.  Boss and Homeland can't drop these plot points, but I wish they could downplay them. (Dropping the concept is easier on a comedy, where you go with what works. Happy Days started as a piece of nostalgia but by the time they made it about Fonzie, the 50s was an afterthought.  Bosom Buddies started with two guys in dresses, but by the second season they were mostly in pants.)