Breaking Bad or Making Happy?

I love well-written films and TV shows. As I watch, I may admire the talents of the performers or director or cinematographer, but I swoon over the story and the dialogue. I'm also a viewer with particular tastes, as most of us are, and I don't want to watch things that don't interest me. Unfortunately, this puts me in an odd position as a fan of smart writing because several of the most acclaimed TV shows right now—for example Breaking Bad and Mad Men—do not fall into my wheelhouse.

The reality is that I like to feel happy. It's not that I deny that tragedies happen in real life—in fact, it may be because of how I respond to tragic real-life events that I value happiness so much. I can't help but be overly affected by terrible stories about the abuse, neglect, and harm that people cause. It's in my nature, perhaps because I'm a writer, to try to visualize and understand what I see. So when I learn about terrible things, my brain takes in all of that information and goes over it again and again to try to make sense of it, or to find a way to refocus it in a light that leaves room for eventual happiness. And in real life, there sometimes isn't any.

So when I'm faced with a fictional film or TV show that explores the darker side of our nature, immersing the viewer in a world that may be fascinating but is also ugly and uncomfortable, I don't want to engage. This is especially the case with TV shows, which bring you into their world week after week. I have watched difficult documentaries and dark films, and even appreciated the experience afterwards, but I can't keep coming back every week to tragically flawed characters in situations that bring them closer and closer to their worst selves. Because the challenge of writing a dark character isn't to see them try to get back to good, but to see how far they will go toward the bad. I remember watching The Sopranos years ago. I resisted for a while, but my ex-husband was a huge fan, as was my boss and half of my department at work. While I admired the talent that was evident in the writing (and all aspects of the production), I felt awful after each episode. My mood turned dark and my emotions felt raw. While some may welcome such a visceral reaction because it reinforces the amazing power of the show, I just wanted to take a shower and find a way to cleanse my brain.

And now I have heard endless praise about Vince Gilligan's Breaking Bad. I have no doubt that the writing is as exceptional as they say—aside from what I've read by critics, I also know huge fans whose opinion I trust. But after watching the pilot episode, I knew immediately the darkness was too great for me. I didn't go back.

I've also seen one or two episodes of Mad Men. I'll confess—it started to pull me in. I even set my DVR to record the series. But each time I had a chance to watch something without the kids, I chose anything but that. It wasn't because I didn't appreciate what it offered—including that I could finally join my friends and the greater TV community who can't stop talking about it—but because I never wanted to get that depressed. And from what I continue to read about the storylines and events, it was inevitable that I would feel that way.

I want my shows in the fictional world to be joyful. I don't mean cheesy sitcoms in which huge problems are completely resolved within 24 minutes (though I sometimes still like those shows, too). I want shows that intrigue me, entertain me, and challenge me—sometimes even bringing me to sadness. But I want them to ultimately take me to a place where I feel happy about life. This sometimes makes me feel like a poor student of the writing craft because I am limiting my exposure to what I might learn from, but I can no more deny my interests than those who write highbrow editorials about the demise of our culture as evidenced by Jersey Shore. I figure at least I recognize that it's a matter of my personal taste that I won't watch certain shows rather than being someone who dismisses a show as "bad" simply because it does not fit their narrow definition of "good." We can't all watch everything anyway, so I'll stick with what I like. If there's anything I've learned from most TV shows and films (both the happy and the dark ones), is that life is short. So I may as well enjoy it while I can.