Recently I was watching this video from Overly Sarcastic Productions:
In general, I love this video channel. It’s a great tool for writers and storytellers who would to dive a little deeper into elements of storytelling and literary analysis – all in the guise of pop culture commentary. They’re great and I recommend checking them out.
That said, there was one thing I took umbrage with during the above video, namely this line: “And Luke actually has it worse! Apparently Mr. Paragon hero savior of the whole dang galaxy, noted for his tendency to never give up on family members even if they’re super evil, made a cursory attempt to revive the Jedi Order and then when his nephew turned evil and killed everybody, he [Luke] gave up forever and went off to a distant planet to sulk for the rest of his life.”
Okay, there’s a lot to unpack there. But my first takeaway was the simple: “That’s not what happened. Because it’s not. It’s so fundamentally not and it’s a lazy error, like the author of the video read the cliff-notes of The Last Jedi instead of watching the actual movie. So, let’s do some character analysis and answer the question: Why did Luke Skywalker fall?
Hey remember Game of Thrones…that was a thing. If the success of Netflix’s The Witcher has shown anything, it’s that audiences still have a craving for more adult fantasy with moral ambiguity and political intrigue. That said, while I enjoyed the first season of Geralt’s journey into legend, it felt more like…well, like this:
Not that there’s anything wrong with being the next Xena. Definitely nothing wrong there. Much to my surprise, however, I found another Netflix offering did a much better job of scratching that Game of Thrones intrigue itch. If you want complex characters living in a fully realized fantasy world of political complexities and societal strife, you really should check out The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, or as I’ve started calling it: Game of Muppets.
A lot of good shows have ended this year – well, The Good Place and Bojack Horseman ended this year, and I want to focus on the latter. Bojack Horseman really impressed the heck out of me. Over its six seasons, it grew from a zany, crass, Archer-ish animated comedy to a deep, dark, touching piece of art. The show became a reflection on consequence and power abuse, and it also painted an incredibly realistic portrait of depression.
Depression can be difficult to write about and many people get it wrong. The error can come from a lack of knowledge or just a desire to adhere to a traditional upbeat narrative. So let’s dive into writing about depression with Bojack Horseman as our guide to getting it right (warning: mild spoilers ahead).
It’s a Constant Struggle
Before I go any further, let me just say that I have never really suffered from depression (apart from a short stint in high school). I consider myself lucky that way. That said, I am no stranger to its close buddy in suffering, anxiety. Most people have both – I just lucked out with one. Weird, right?
Anyway, back to the first lesson: When writing depression, it cannot be a plot device. What I mean is, when writing, don’t use depression just to compel the plot. For example, let’s say I want to put Character A in the hospital so they can meet Character B. I can’t just write “Character A felt depressed and attempted suicide, landing them squarely in the hospital.” Apart from being a crappy sentence, it is incredibly loaded with unanswered questions. If I never returned to talking about Character A’s depression, my reader will feel cheated. They will know I just brought it up so I could move the story along.
Depression is not a physical trait. It’s much more complex – it is a part of a character’s inner being. As such, it cannot be turned off and on whenever convenient. It must always be. Just having a character turn depressed without prior warning or setup would be like having a nice person turn heinously villainous (looking at you, Frozen).
If your character is depressed, it must inform their being. A character who only gets sad when there is a clear reason (death, loss, etc.) is not depressed, just upset.
Happy Characters can be Depressed
Let’s continue that thought: Depression is not just sadness. Sure, Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh is an example of a depressed character and he is almost always gloomy, but Eeyore is not the model of depression, just an example of a form it can take. In Bojack Horseman, there is no logical reason for him to be as miserable as he is. He is a rich celebrity with friends and an active career. There is a lot to feel good about – but he can’t see it.
Depression blinds Bojack to everything good in his life, instead telling him that it either:
Is a lie.
Is doomed to destruction (through something he will do).
Depression is more than sadness. It is a feeling of personal worthlessness or despair that exists regardless of external stimuli. Sure, Bojack can dress up for the cameras and put on a smile, but inside he is never really happy. His sickness is always pulling him down and, for most if not all of the show, he is never really sure how best to fight against it.
So, while depressed characters can look like Eeyore, they don’t have to. Bojack Horseman is an example of a depressed character as is Diane, his best friend. Both are hard-working, successful people who still struggle with their inner demons on a daily basis. Diane is a lot more upbeat than Bojack (overall), but even she is often tugged down into despair – mostly through blaming herself.
There is No “Cure”
I’m no fan of Iron Man 3. I made that clear in my review. Why am I bringing it up now? Because Iron Man 3 commits one of my most hated lazy writing moves. It brings up a severe mental illness only to immediately cure it within seconds. For much of the film, Tony Stark is suffering from panic attacks and panic disorder. It frequently sends him into a spiral wherein he is rendered an inactive mass as he struggles to regain his breath and his composure.
Que act III where he discovers a lesson about himself and suddenly viola! No more panic attacks. Bull. Shit.
Mental illnesses can be cured, yes, but not quickly. Often times, curing a mental illness means learning to live with it and manage it rather than anything else. There is no “Eureka!” moment. Tony Stark recovering so abruptly from his panic disorder is akin to someone going up to a person suffering from depression and asking “have you tried being happier?”
It doesn’t work.
You can write about your character recovering from depression – but that in itself is a journey. Let’s go back to talking about Diane. While Bojack may not be out of his spiral, Diane appears to overcome her worst problems with depression by the end of the series. How does she do this? She:
Takes medication (even though it makes her heavier).
Abandons her belief that accomplishing a goal will make her happy.
Bojack and Diane are very similar. Each one has selected a fantasy that, once fulfilled, will magically fix their problems. For Bojack, it is starring in Secretariat. For Diane, it is writing her memoir. Bojack gets his wish, while Diane doesn’t. He stars in the film. She stops writing her memoir and opts instead to write a fun children’s series about a girl detective. Why? Because doing the latter actually made her happy. Diane stopped dwelling in her grief. She stopped trying to make sense of it and she moved on (with help from her partner and her doctors).
So, at least at a glance, it appears she is “cured” by the end of the series. Does this mean she no longer has depression? No, but it means she has taken control of it. She is in a much better place because she now allows herself to be happy rather than following her more destructive instincts.
Depression Comes from Somewhere, Even if It Doesn’t
Okay, my last point: Depression may not really come from anything. Current medical science tells us it is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain – meaning there could be no real cause. A person in a healthy, functional home can develop depression.
That said, for many people, depression has its roots in cold hard reality. Let’s go back to Bojack. His trouble started with his parents – who were abusive, neglectful, and a handful of other terrible adjectives. As such, Bojack was told he was worthless at a young age and never really got over that. Likewise, Diane came from a similar background. Her father was also not great.
My point is, your character will likely have a cause for their depression, even if said event/person is not the real cause at all. They will believe it. Bojack believes his family messed him up (hard to argue that he’s wrong).
In the end, however, depressed characters are more likely to blame themselves than any external force. They see themselves as flawed, weak, and broken. If bad things happen – it is only because they deserve them.
Keep this in mind when you’re writing depression in your stories. It is a complex monster that should be treated with the intricacy it deserves. If you want your character to have an illness they can all of a sudden recover from – give them a cold. Fighting depression is an exhausting struggle and sadly not one that everyone wins.
Don’t take shortcuts. It is a human fight and thus worth writing about.