Meta, Cool, Character

From King Gilgamesh in The Epic of Gilgamesh to the courageous Katniss Everdeen in the Hunger Games, an audience needs a subject to follow through a solid conclusion. Though some could argue a subject isn’t a character and a character isn’t a subject. For a house can be a subject, but it can’t be a character. It can’t feel, or do, or think, so how can an audience connect with an inanimate object? Well, for the most talented writers, there’s always a way to make this connection. For one, both drive the story forward, allowing the proper details to fill the white space around the given subjects and-or characters, and, for two, a broken home, sitting in a desolate field, standing against the test of time, can relate to anyone. It just depends on the writer, and their ability to create depth, and backstory that personifies the house. Luckily, for Community, NBC’s television comedy series, its medium is the cinematic reel and its characters are fictional people, which allows the writers to follow the lives of several subjects and, thus, record their adventures.

It’s why Jeff Vandermeer’s describes several character types in his Wonderbook and goes on to explain how they can either be full of the all right details, or they can fall flat on the page. Of course, he starts off with the pure hero and the goody two-shoes, moving quickly to the reluctant hero, and the anti-hero before finishing with the psycho, the pure manifestation of society reflected through a single character.

He also goes to great lengths with outlining who the writer should consider a perfect subject:

• Is the viewpoint of the character the one with the most to gain or lose?
• Is this the character with the most agency in the narrative, and does agency drive your view of character more than the idea of external constraints on the character?
• Is this the character who most interests you or that you are most passionate about?
• What limitations will you have as a result of using this character?
• If you’re using first person, does this character have an interesting way of expressing things?
• Do you want the reader to feel close to this character or more distant?

Two other basic questions to ask are:

• What does this person need?

• What does this person want?

The last two questions are the most important to ask. They are what drive the story forward. Even though the setting, and/or the antagonist, can push a character down their journey, it’s up to the character to decide between giving-up and going forward. With that said, though, don’t dwell on these questions. Doing so, can drive any great writer insane. Humanity is a machine driven on endless want and it is why Shel Silverstein wrote The Giving Tree. It is why Mel Gibson directed Apocalypto. Even though they’re two very different stories, displayed through two very separate mediums, they both demonstrate the idea of totalitarianism and how there’ll always come a day where the earth, the solar system, and/or the universe can no longer provide. So, for now, focus on how the character appears on the page: focus on the color of their hair and how their eyes soften during sad movies: focus on what they’re wearing, because a homeless man walking down the streets gets a much different reaction than a high-powered executive: so, again, focus on how the character interacts on the page, with the people they want most because, after all, a love-sick puppy acts a lot different than a heart broken teen. Right?

In the pilot episode of Community, Jeffrey Winger is introduced as the main character. He’s the first group member to have an actual want in the show’s existence, and this happens at the fifty second mark. It’s just after Dean Pelton finishes his speech, but, before exposing what Jeff wants, notice what he’s wearing. In his opening scene, he’s wearing a pair of wind-breaker sweat-pants, a blue collared-shirt that sits under a grey sweater, leaving both to sit under a navy-blue sports-coat. It’s the perfect ensemble for telling the world he may have money, yes. It’s just, he either likes to live comfortably or doesn’t spend the money he does have. This is not the only point driven home by his ensemble. By visibly showing that he’s only half put together, it should be clear his character is the one with most work on for becoming a better person; basically saying, he’s the perfect definition of the anti-protagonist before ever having to show or act like he is the anti-protagonist.

Britta Perry is the next character to meet the audience. Outside of all Jeffery’s superficial wants, she’s the apple of his eye. And, even though Jeff and Abed do talk about her at the 1:20 mark; it’s not until the 3:40 mark that Jeff tells her about his Spanish study group. However, it’s at 4:50 second mark, that Jeff finds out Britta’s deal is, “above all else, honesty,” and this puts him in quite the pinch. Prior to their conversations in both the cafeteria and the study room, the audience learns that Jeff is a pathological liar at the 1:45 mark. He admits to Professor Duncan, “I’m in a bit of a jam. The State Bar has suspended my license. They found out my college degree was less than legitimate,” revealing how low he’s set the bar for himself, the classic anti-protagonist, and for the school itself. He quickly continues with, “I’m hoping our friendship will yield certain advantages. You know, academic guidance, moral support, every answer to every test for every one of the classes that I’m taking.” It’s here that Jeff unveils how he’s completely fine with making the immoral judgment no one should ever be fine with making. In fact, the idea of Jeff going to Duncan, before he even goes a month into the semester, just goes to show how much he needs to work on himself.

From there, the rest of the group is slowly introduced. Even though most of them are seen throughout the first fifty seconds of the episode, they’re not mentioned by name. Nor do they divulge into their past. But, that’s only because this’s the cinematic version of telling the audience these characters will be in the show, but they are not its focus. Jeffrey is the main character of this show and with most of the episode revolving around his obsessive want for Britta (how he literally goes above and beyond in showing the world how he’ll do anything, and everything, he can to get Britta alone) there’s little to no time to explore the other characters. But! It does confirm the theory of how character creation is one of the most important aspects of story writing. If the character doesn’t understand why they’re making their own decisions, why should the audience even care to understand? Right? It’s why, this entire episode is about defining Jeff as the anti-protagonist and bringing out an extremely negative quality.

By now, most of the characters have already seen how he is not a good person, so it’s only naturally that he needs to dive into the role of the anti-protagonist. This moment comes at the 13:20 mark. It’s when Britta says, “Wait? So, this is a game to you? You put human beings into a state of emotional shambles for a shot at getting into my pants? You’re unbelievable.” It’s here, she’s illustrating how Jeff has no problem with ruining people’s lives at a shot for sex. Not even at a shot for a relationship. Just sex. Which is sad because there’s an entire movie based off that idea being a bad thing: Don Jon, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Scarlet Johansson. But, that is beside the point. Because, what’s even sadder is that Jeff easily owns up to this fact by saying, “Why can’t you see it for the compliment that it is?” It’s the perfect opportunity for him to finally portray himself as a piece of human garbage.

However, it’s this same characteristic, the one thing that sent him up shit’s creek in the first place, that allows Jeff to show off his one special talent…talking himself out of any situation. It happens at the 14:20 mark, when he gives a commanding speech about Shark Week and then, through that speech, gets the group apologize to itself and thereby, naming them a Community. The speech is also a tactic that’s designed to get Britta to dinner. But, of course, his plan backfires. Britta denies him both sex and dinner because, even though his special quality gets the group back together, her denial comes with an epithet covering Jeff’s plan to create public turmoil for a chance at sex. This leaves him alone, alienated, and kicked out of the group, which then leaves him outside, alone, and (surprisingly) not in the least bit shocked that the answers he gave his Lexus for are all blank.

It’s clear that Jeffrey Winger is the classic anti-protagonist. Everything he does ends up in a catastrophe, and it’s all because he only thinks of himself. He’s like Will Smith’s Hancock. He starts off as a character the viewers should hate, or not like in any way, shape, or form. But, by the end of the episode: by the end of the movie; the audience has an understanding that there’s a redeeming quality in all of humanity, and that is why pity is a real thing. It’s why here, at the very end of the episode, everyone comes together and lets Jeff back in the study group. They’re all at Greendale for the very same reason as him. They all want a fresh start at life. Something a lot of main characters, in almost any given story, want.