The Trouble is a compelling dive into all the ways things can go wrong
“Compulsion”, the latest instalment from WBEZ Chicago’s new(ish) podcast The Trouble, is a great example of what it does best–intimate, dynamic dialogue.
“I’ll open a box of, you know, Cheerios and there’ll be a red ink dot that’s obviously ink, but I get it in my head that it’s blood and then I lose my mind.” The Trouble begins its fifth episode with a snippet of what’s to come — the everyday life of an everyday person whose relationship with the world isn’t so ordinary.
It’s spoken not by the host, but the subject — it’s their story we’ll be hearing and starting with their voice sets up the premise that makes this podcast so listenable: although the charismatic host, Shannon Cason, is an award-winning storyteller with his own suite of life experiences to share, The Trouble never fails to centre its subjects. In this case, that’s Jamie, a young woman who manages to share her troubles with unguarded honesty in an episode titled “Compulsion”.
Using a mix of recorded interviews — more like dynamic, informal conversations — and (short) monologues, it delves deeply into Jamie’s status life, positioning her in the world by exploring her patterns of behaviour.
A warm curiosity defines Cason’s run as the host of WBEZ Chicago’s new(ish) podcast. He’s representative of a fresh approach to broadcast journalism that’s sprung up alongside the advent of podcasting — a medium that allows for, if not encourages, individual difference. The result is a special breed of empathetic hosts that are adept at creating safe spaces for both their subjects and their listeners.
“Compulsion” is particularly affective. Jamie has OCD, a high-profile disorder that regularly makes appearances in pop-culture but remains, perhaps because of its cultural ubiquity, wildly misunderstood.
“There’s a lot of stigma and misunderstanding when it comes to the word OCD, right? People use it as an adjective, half-heartedly in conversation. You’re so OCD. I mean I’ll admit I’ve said things like that. I’d ask a really organised friend if he took his OCD pills today — yeah, I’ve done that, and I should know better. I’ve had my share of experiences with mental health issues, friends, family, myself. I’ve struggled with depression. And still, I didn’t really understand OCD.”
This passage shows how effective first-person narration can be when done right. What Cason does by inserting himself here, is put the listener at ease. No doubt, there will be people listening who have made these jokes, or at least laughed at them; people who might need a (gentle) wake-up call about the impact OCD has on someone’s patterns of behaviour and how that might affect their position in the world.
Cason’s deft use of first-person loosens his guests too. It’s part of the reason The Trouble is able to honour its subjects while making the most of its host’s charisma.
“Oh yeah,” says Jamie, she remembers doing things differently. The most prevalent earliest memory is the bedtime routine that started at the age of seven. Now, in her thirties she makes sense of the feelings she’s had since then by equating them to something most adults will relate to. Communicating her experiences through intimate, frank and human dialogue serves to amplify the listener’s empathy.
“You know after, sometimes after [sic], you drink you like shame spiral, cause you’re like what did I say? Was a I rude? Like was I, whatever…”
“Ooooh man, I’d know about that, yeah,” says Cason. A minute’s banter ensures, alongside the kind of laughter that comes when you get someone. “What happened with you?”
“I have that sober.”
This dialogue is representative of The Trouble. Jamie shares something deeply personal, Cason puts her at ease by sharing his own experience, quickly and humorously.
Later, we’re given another example of this dynamic when Jamie details her decision to try medication. “It like really was awful, I hated it.”
“I hated it too.”
“You did too?
“Yeah I did too. I hated it. Zoloft.”
Gay Talese might refer to dialogue as first-draft thinking, but that’s not to say it’s any less sophisticated than carefully crafted prose. The spontaneity and idiosyncrasies have impact —they reveal something about their speaker. Theses nuances are what makes the spoken word different from the written; they’re what separates radio from text as a medium.
While reading Cason’s exchange with Jamie about Zoloft may give a sense of the rhythm, radio can successfully use the full scope of dialogue, not just words, but pauses, pace, sounds and stress to produce something recognisably human. And The Trouble makes the most of that difference with good tape, sensitively edited.
Take, for example, the moments where you hear the crack of Jamie’s voice as she talks about the line between knowing something isn’t poisoned but not being able to control her compulsions and actually thinking things are poisoned. Or the waiver when she responds to Cason asking how she thinks other people perceive her.
It seems like an obvious point to make, but with so many scripted podcasts — both fiction and non-fiction — popping up, it’s encouraging to see shows like The Trouble successfully harness raw dialogue to give a more complete sense of the subject.
