In season four, episode 12 of Schitt’s Creek, Moira Rose (Catherine O’Hara) is seen pacing the room as she waits for Roland Schitt to show up at the hospital for his wife Jocelyn (Jenn Robertson) who is going into labor. In a scene that is meant to be about Jocelyn, Moira swoops in and confides in her the fear of her daughter’s failure. Instead of dismissing her for turning a crucial moment in someone else’s life about herself, Jocelyn offers Moira advice. As is typical for protagonists to do, Moira makes every conversation that she walks into about her. Both straight and white women, both quirky, and only one of them is the protagonist of the show. It’s easy for viewers to discern who the more important character is, but it is not at the cost of character development.
Often on TV shows, when a supporting character is written in, they are more a foil and yes-man to the heroine. If the show is trying to stand out, then the best friend is “quirky.” Their quirks exist merely to make the heroine appear like a better person, both physically and morally. Take Lane Kim (Keiko Agena), who plays second fiddle to cool, good-natured, and blue-eyed Rory Gilmore (Alexis Bledel) in Gilmore Girls. There is no crucial conflict or fallout between the two — except for the transition period when Rory gets into Chilton, a more elite private school. For the most part, Lane is everything that Rory is not: Asian, in a band, rebellious but in secret, and under the strict reign of her mother. In the entire series, Lane is perpetually overlooked or written out of pivotal moments in Rory’s life. To the extent that when Rory has an unhealthy relationship with Logan, Lane is enamored and in awe of the fact that she is casually dating and living on her own in a dorm instead of showing concern for her friend’s toxic relationship status.
Quirky is often a placeholder for token or less attractive and an opportunity for TV shows to appear inclusive by casting a person of color. But that trope has fizzled out in recent years. Molly (Yvonne Orji) from Insecure, for example, does not play second fiddle. She is almost equally important to the show as Issa (Issa Rae) and still serves as a foil for the protagonist. In the same way, so is Terry (Weruche Opia) for Arabella (Michaela Coel) in I May Destroy You. Both Molly and Terry are often shown in disagreement with choices their counterparts make in men, clothes, life, and sometimes even in their respective professions. There is a deep loyalty in their friendship that isn’t exploited by the plot. In I May Destroy You, Terry plays a decisive role in the events that unfold the night of Arabella’s rape. It hangs over their friendship for most of season one without hinging the fate of their entire friendship on it. In spite of Terry’s blunder (which she is aware of and tries to hide), she remains steadfast and is a constant source of comfort to Arabella. She is also shown living her own life, meeting men, securing auditions, and struggling with family and friendships. It’s worthwhile to note that in both these shows race is not used as a quirk. Instead of making Freida Issa’s best friend, she is made to be her colleague in Insecure, and instead of making Theodora Arabella’s best friend in I May Destroy You, she is made to be her confident. This is a monumental reversal and undoing of the racially other best friend trope. It’s a clever way to avoid tokenism without negatively impacting the plot.
Friendships make for compelling stories and successful character development. In fact, female friendships are often the easiest way to pass the Bechdel test. Yet TV still has managed to mess up their portrayal. Instead of celebrating wholesome, long-lasting, and healthy friendships, shows turn them into distractions or subplots until the love interest shows up or proves himself worthy of the heroine (sometimes the love interests don’t even manage that.) In Gilmore Girls, Rory’s mother, Lorelai (Lauren Graham), also struggles with best friend Sookie (Melissa McCarthy). Lorelai is young, attractive, charming, works at the front desk of the inn, and gets away with being irresponsible and uncommunicative in relationships. While Sookie is clumsy, chubby, socially awkward, always making coffee, and constantly protecting Lorelai. In season one, episode 10, when Lorelai offers to host a donation drive for Stars Hollow, it is Sookie that convinces her of the insensitivity of Lorelai walking around town in the clothes of Luke’s ex. Later in the show, it ends up being Sookie that gets married to a small-town farmer, gives birth to multiple children, and has to give up working at the kitchen for long periods in the show. Even though Sookie leads the more conventional life and has a happier marriage, it’s Sookie whose life seems dull and mundane compared to Lorelai’s unsuccessful and mostly dysfunctional life. Instead of calling her friend out on her bullshit, Sookie is around solely to comfort Lorelai with food, house chores, and the occasional common sense.
Unlike Molly, Terry, or even Jocelyn, Sookie has very little say in the friendship. She is rarely allowed to comment on Lorelai’s poor choices or bad taste in men. While on Insecure, tensions run so high between Issa and Molly that eventually the fallout becomes too hard to recover from. Despite their differences, Molly steps in to protect Issa. After ghosting her, Nathan makes a comeback in Issa’s life, so Molly steps in to protect her friend instead of letting Issa get hurt. Throughout the show, Molly’s aware of Issa’s recklessness and is continuously calling her out. All of this builds into the tension between the two of them. For decades, women are taught to put their love lives and families before friendships— thanks in part to television and film. Instead of engaging in conflict, TV shows often justify friendship fallouts with romantic make ups. Somehow the return of Lorelai’s ex Christopher, albeit hastily, is accepted even though Sookie doesn’t approve. Logan ghosting Rory is accepted because Lane doesn’t really have the experience to help Rory stand up for herself.
The most crucial of all among these friendships is the subtle comparison being made between women with different personalities, identities, body types, and love interests. Rory dates a wealthy, good-looking, Yale-educated boy while Lane dates a dull airhead who barely managed to play lead guitar in a band. In the same vein, Sookie dresses conservatively and doesn’t have as many romantic encounters or much going on in her life implying that women who identify with them are boring and lead an unsuccessful life. In contrast, shows like Insecure, I May Destroy You, and Schitt’s Creek are not only aware of these tropes but also go above and beyond— they offer a way out. They hold the promise that despite being from a small town, choosing a more steady career path, and having less erratic adventures, your life can still be a success and worthy of celebration.
Even though Jocelyn in Schitt’s Creek loses the local elections to Moira, wears basic clothes, works as a high school teacher, and is married to a slob, she remains a key figure in the town of Schitt’s Creek. She is pivotal to Moira’s character development from snobbish and vain to accepting and attentive. In the same way, Arabella isn’t reduced as a woman because of her date rape thanks to Terry’s misfortunes and loyal presence. Similarly, Molly’s professional success is not unattractive or flawed when placed against Issa’s unstable career or more evolved approach to relationships. It’s high time TV shows ditched the quirky best friend trope and replaced them with healthier and more realistic friendship goals. Friendships grow, they evolve, and women learn to love each other and can learn from one another when they recognize their differences in physique and personality.
