NEW GIRL | Why we could learn a lot from the SAW franchise
Type “raccoon w..” into google and you will be served two top results
- “Raccoon Gets Sad When His Cotton Candy Dissolves In Water”
- “Tricking My Pet Raccoons With Cotton Candy”
Maybe I’m unnecessarily cynical. Maybe it’s that time of year — things get overly bundled into a jolly package. Maybe it’s because I’ve been chewing printer toner like spitting tobacco. But this encapsulates the digestive process of 21st century media. An authentic observation is imbibed, masticated, and regurgitated into an archetype exploiting its original appeal.
A similar journey occurred with the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope. We started with a well-intended reflection of life (women can be zany — not just barbie dolls. Heck, they can like The Smiths, too!) which became patternized, into an archetype of kooky hair and baffling musical interjections. Anything can be a paint by numbers, easy-bake oven version of itself.
Rewatching New Girl one can’t help but think about the pixie archetype. Protagonist Jessica Day is quirky, creative, and somewhat self-destructive. Bake for 35 minutes at 180.
Yet this was not the show’s intent. Jess is not there purely to make the male character’s life interesting (though one can’t help but pick up a whiff of the original 2005 definition that they encourage “broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures”).
The show promises us that this is not a one-dimensional female story — that it is centred on a woman and her experiences. She is THE new girl. It’s a woman’s renaissance. So why is it so sweet yet unsatisfying to watch Jess. Why does her strong femininity ultimately leave one hollow. Every time I try to dip the message into my mind-puddle it melts away before my lil paws.
Interrogating the title drops a few clues. Sidestepping the fact that the original title of the show (Chicks and Dicks) somewhat undermines its claims to a 3-dimensional female character, to call this show New Girl is misleading in two ways. Admittedly, no showrunner could have the foresight to anticipate the series would run for 7 seasons, but at that point calling her the ‘new girl’ reeks of that one colleague who blames being “new” for their fuck ups, while being months into the job. The main criticism of the title is that it makes Jess the eponymous one. This does the show a disservice as really the show is best when it balances the dynamics of the core 3 — Nick, Schmidt and Jess. (Sorry Winston, Cece and Coach are our Phoebe, Monica and Joey… comic relief and background romance. The real drama is in the Ross & Rachel (Jess/Nick) dynamic and the anxious college roommate who lives across the hall.*)
*Or it’s Ted, his college roommate Marshall and new-in-town Robin if you prefer
Part 1. The wisdom of crowds
The top 3 IMDb episodes from the show are not Jess-led episodes.
#1 and #3 (Five Stars for Beezus, Clean Break) give equal time to all parties — though notably both include landmark moments in the Schmidt / Cece relationship (suggesting like Monica & Chandler the audience allegiance may have shifted in terms of the main romantic couple’s popularity). Ironically, in the #2 most popular episode (Cooler), the gang unanimously decides to leave Jess at home. They of course ultimately come back and spend the rest of the episode in the loft together. Episodes with a similar skeleton — the gang in a large group, dialogue-driven, almost entirely set in the loft — rank extremely highly also (Background Check, Spiderhunt, Thanksgiving IV). These ‘bottle episodes’ by enforced constraint, can lead to the best drama.
These episodes ‘work’ for the audience perhaps not despite, but because they veer away from the surreal comedic bits the show is prone to indulge in. Flashy, sacharrine, easily soluble… and usually given to Jess.
Take a look at the synopses top 5 worst ranked IMDb episodes
Jess gets jealous when Winston joins her troubled-youth handbell quartet…
Jess gets nervous about starting her new position as principal…
The wedding is coming up and Jess hasn’t finished Cece’s wedding dress…
When Jess is served a restraining order by her former boyfriend…
Jess learns the principal at the progressive new school she is applying to is dating her ex…
We’re not too far removed from noticing the show is better when the new girl doesn’t take the lead in New Girl. But why should this be — when surely the most time has been dedicated to drawing the character of Jess?
The core reason why Jess’s characterization is flawed lies… with her character flaws. Being flawed in itself is not bad from a characterisation perspective — it’s a well-accepted rubric that it’s fully necessary for a character to have something wrong with them
1 — to be likeable, and
2 — as table stakes for any kind of character growth
Absence of flaws is not an issue. In New Girl, all the main characters are flawed (and have their flaws called out to them by others, repeatedly, living in LA looks so much fun ha ha ha). (one of) Schmidt’s internal battles is that his fatphobia* and teen self-hatred allow him to become a handsome Narcissus, but prevent him finding happiness with the overweight Rebecca (who accepts him as he was), or Cece, (who accepts the more ‘evolved’ him) — and in balancing the validation he needs from each of them he ruins it with both. Punishment time! But the pain provides the kick needed to mature and earn back Cece’s trust authentically.
(*ironically it was Jake Johnson who had to lose 15 pounds at the network’s request in order to get the role of Nick)
Nick meanwhile has it repeatedly called out to him that his lack of ambition, sloth, etc. directly cause his inability to make any financial, creative, or occasionally romantic progress (again quite heavy handed, I don’t know how many people in a friend group take the lowest earner and call out ‘remember how you still work in a bar, in one of the most expensive cities in the world? That’s right you piece of shit’)
It’s satisfying, borderline schadenfreude. Cause → effect. Flaw → consequence. Their apologies, or confessions of shame work so much better because they acknowledge their role in the events. The show gains heart and accesses genuine sincerity, without quirks or irony puncturing the moment. These expressions of guilt are cathartic for us to watch. Both because we can relate, and when we enjoy seeing ‘justice’ done in the make-pretend world, when in our own lives things can seem so unfair.
But Jess is not punished for her flaws. Not that she doesn’t suffer. She gets cheated on (blindsided), she loses her job (not performance related), her British boyfriend leaves her (long distance job offer). But none are ever her fault. By not being to blame, she’s denied both likeability and growth. This might be fine — if bland — if Jess’ ‘quirky’ behaviour didn’t border the surreal
When these moments pass by without even the ‘Jim Halpert turn to camera’ well that was fucking weird moment there is no social subtextual ‘consequence’ and it feels like the rules of social justice don’t apply. Compare this to the quirkiness of Rebecca Bunch in Crazy Ex Girlfriend where there is always a Paula or a Valencia to cringe on our behalf — and an absolute showstopper calling out Rebecca’s ingratitude for the lengths her friends go to in order to facilitate her quirky adventures (“time for me to walk out! time for me to say no!”) and reminding herself she’s not Rebecca’s mother.
But that makes sense. Jess receives almost the forgiveness one would extend to a toddler. Consider — how little of a re-write would it take to imagine this less as four 30-something roommates but 3 men and a baby. Baby has a tantrum? Acts irrationally? No consequences, it’s a baby. Take the episode Basketball where she stalks Coach’s interests and invades his leisure time to drive a friendship between the two. When this technique is ineffective he is on the receiving end of one of her freak outs, and has Nick explain the situation to him. Yet neither conceives of pointing out “shes a grown woman, we have different interests, pull yourself together”; rather the behaviour change is put on Coach to charm a friendship out of Jess. This scene would socially make more sense if Coach were written as having a caretaking responsibility over Jess’ emotional state, as his willingness to comply would make more logical sense. (e.g. No wholesome sitcom adult would mock a child who idolised him, but take pity and amend his behaviour). It’s not helped by the fact that Nick’s advice to grow the friendship is to “tell her those random sweet emotional thoughts like ‘if you combed a gorilla’s hair would it like it?’”
Bear in mind. She is a professional educator. It paints a moral grey area whether this person legally can be employed. Does she understand what a contract is?
This denies Jess opportunities for authentic pain. When she’s handled with parental-level sympathy, she’s never rebuffed to the social expectation level of an adult — ultimately she becomes socially bulletproof. Moments that should be devastating are played with irony. After being the most earnestly dedicated to protecting Cece from any embarrassment at her wedding, she falls through the ceiling. This humiliation for her best friend she plays it off with full wink-emoji ‘did I do that’ sarcasm. Because how else can we end the scene? — the only alternative would be for people to boo Jess, for her to apologise and be ashamed. But that would be consequences and maybe even growth…
Part 2. Neurodivergence in SitComs
An alternative parallel to how Jess’ circle react to her, is to the tolerance of quirks and generosity of interpretation that would be extended to an adult with a psychiatric or emotional disorder. Consider how gentle the characters in Harvey (1950) are to Jimmy Stewart’s character, meanwhile trying to get him committed to a sanatorium.
But let’s compare and contrast the interpersonal dynamics around Jess with shows including neurodivergent characters from a similar era (2000–10's).
In Community we have Abed (who while not canonically any specific label, is unable to read facial expressions, branded “undiagnoseable” by the narrator and the show’s creator Dan Harmon researched autism for his characterisation).
Abed is generally beloved for his traits, but often his inability to read the room or think about the impact his words has on others causes frustration for the group. In Virtual Systems Analysis Abed overhears and is devastated by a conversation between Annie and Troy:
Troy: “Great, um, just, you know, make sure he stays comfortable. I worry about him when I’m not around.”
Annie: “Well, he’s fine, he always will be. People bend over backwards to cater to him.”
The confrontation that results engenders change for both Abed and Annie; he resolves to be more considerate, she regrets being flippant and is more empathetic to his behavioural differences.
The Big Bang Theory explores similar territory. Sheldon is, again, not canonically labelled as neurodivergent, though the show’s creators are one cabbage leaf in a fan dance away from admitting it (Bill Prady: “I just think of his actions as ‘Sheldony.’; Jim Parsons was slightly more erudite on the subject of Aspergers noting “The writers say no, he doesn’t. [But] I can say that he couldn’t display more facets of it.”)
Like Jess, Sheldon is seen as fairly bizarre by most people. His friend group are accepting but there are circumstances in which he presses the limits of their tolerance and willingness to cater to him (such as his not revealing he’s learned how to drive, while enjoying lifts around the city).
But there are substantial differences between how the show handles Sheldon and Jess.
Firstly, characters tell him the truth about him.
Amy: “… your personality quirks, which others find abhorrent or rage-inducing, I find cute as a button.”
We crave seeing characters find out what’s wrong with them (think of the recurring “intervention” gag on How I Met Your Mother)
Perhaps we want to see this played out because in reality it’s so hard to come by. Alain de Botton (Why you will marry the wrong person) says:
We are basically psychologically quite strange. We don’t normally know very much about this strangeness… there’s a wall of silence that surrounds us from a deeper acquaintance with what is actually so difficult about us. Our friends don’t want to tell us… Probably after 10 minutes’ acquaintance a stranger will know more about your flaws than you might learn over 40 years of life on the planet. Our capacity to intuit what is wrong with us is very weak. Our parents don’t tell us, why would they, they love us too much… So this knowledge that is out there is not in you. Therefore we progress through the world with a very low sense of what is actually wrong with us.
Imagine a scene where Jess overhears the gang discussing how close to breaking point they are with finding her annoying, not endearing. It would deliver an emotional gutpunch. Instead this “that’s how you see me?” beat is given to the other quirkiest character (song-singing, cat-loving) Winston when he discovers the gang don’t have faith in him being a police officer.
Did the writers feel like Jess’ parents — unable to tell her of her flaws because they love her? Or, were they simply not able to see her flaws because they were their own (the character of Jess being based on creator Elizabeth Meriwether who apparently “sings to herself when uncomfortable — just like Jess!”). Ironically this pushes Jess further towards the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope — a true hallmark of which is that her male ̶d̶e̶p̶e̶n̶d̶e̶n̶t̶ counterpart is blind to her flaws, obsessed with the idea of her perfection. (see: Looking for Alaska, (500) Days of Summer).
Secondly (yes we’re still on TBBT) our old friend — consequences
Point 2 on The Big Bang Theory. There are consequences for Sheldon’s resistance to change, his unintentional thoughtlessness — in a way we see him pay the price of having low social skills. This allows us to sympathize with him — for who among us has not felt misunderstood?
Paying the price is the trigger to realising he needs to change, and the other characters are supportive in helping him recognise which behaviours are not helping him. Sheldon could push people away, but doesn’t — because he elicits sympathy from his acknowledgment that he is troublesome, and his investment in attempts to grow. (“He learns, and finally eats the candy” 🦝)
Jess should push people away but doesn’t — because (?) the script says so. Leaving her ultimately unsympathetic because she doesn’t suffer the consequences.
Part 3. Why did I put Saw in the title
Making your characters suffer in return for misdeeds is one of the oldest tenets of literature — poetic justice. It requires that vice be punished and virtue rewarded. Historically this was demanded in order to inspire proper moral behaviour (1595 — The Defence of Poesy — Sidney argued poetic justice is the reason fiction should be allowed in a civilised nation), but it also serves to create a sense that logic will triumph — there is moral order, karma, within the story.
The creators of the Saw franchise have certainly read up on their poesy. Over nearly two decades, the world has been served countless examples of poorly-lit b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶l̶u̶s̶t̶ karma. Saw 1: Gordon realises the reason he is being tested by Jigsaw is because he had an affair — now his wife and daughter’s lives are at risk. Saw 2: Convicts & a corrupt police officer are put through tests. Saw 3–10 you will have to look up examples yourself as I was about to boke up today’s advent calendar reading through the plot summaries on wikipedia (I never did seesaw h a h a h a)
An equally bloody Se7en goes further on insisting the punishment fit the crime — death by over-eating for gluttony etc. Time and again films make explicit that we want to see people sin before they are punished (horror being an easier genre to speak to as the punishment is much more objective than subjective). Cabin In The Woods (the only ‘horror’ I don’t have to watch through my fingers, in bright sunlight) points out how much of a ‘law’ this is with a playful inversion. Rather than take sinners and focus on doling out punishment, the punishment is a foregone conclusion of the universe, thus requiring those in command to trigger a trespass in the victims to merit the punishment that upholds — very literally — the cosmic order of the world.
Ultimately, in the Saw franchise, naughty boys and girls get coal. Unlike the lawlessness of New Girl it depicts a just world with reassuring moral order. Merry Christmas.
