Cheering for the Bad Guy: Part Three

In Part One I discussed how I enjoy watching fictional self-interested “bad guy protagonists,” and in Part Two I delved into the particular twist that the Sith spin on this “bad guy protagonist” subgenre. In Part Three I’ll reflect more broadly on why this genre is appealing.

The main reason that I find this subgenre appealing is the same reason why I find much of genre fiction appealing, namely that it invites a suspension of disbelief. While genre fiction tends to invite us to imagine a different physical universe, the bad guy protagonist subgenre invites me to imagine a different moral universe as well. I don’t actually believe that it’s possible to transcend good and evil a la Neitzsche, but the thought experiment is fascinating in itself. The popularity of House of Cards as set in our own context is telling enough, but add the imaginative universes of Westeros or a Force-saturated galaxy and you’ve got a blockbuster franchise.

Some may argue—lead characters and this commentator included—that the calculated quest for power is aphilosophical and ametaphysical. This may be true to some extent, but my point is precisely that it isn't aphilosophical but differently philosophical. Resuming my disbelief, I can claim that ambition is never purely naked, but always clothed with the drive and philosophical presupposition that pure ambition is actually a moral good. Morality in this genre is simply taken to be the utilitarian drive behind the protagonist’s actions. To be amoral is to be paralyzed, but to be immoral is to have one’s driving morality judged as deficient or backwards. The Sith tragedy makes this plain: pure ambition is upheld as a good in service of the greater Sith imperative to achieve mastery over the Force and bend it to their will. In bringing about the Chosen One, the Force itself judges the Sith as wanting and ultimately thwarts their plans.

As an invitation to the suspension of disbelief, the bad guy protagonist subgenre also invites a suspension of moral judgement. Cynicism and judgement can be tiring. A bad guy protagonist offers a particular form of respite by allowing us to temporarily give in to our cynical perspective, to temporarily give up the real-world moral struggle in which we find ourselves. Hence the appeal. A less appealing but more edifying fact of the genre is that it can also provide a self-corrective moment, exposing an arrogance that assumes we are in a position to judge in the first place, exposing the log in our own eye as well as the speck (be it wood or tear gas) in the eyes of the powerful. The Battlestar Galactica reboot did a particularly good job of exposing human arrogance even from the get-go, securing it's place as a forerunner of the genre.

This self-corrective function seems to have ostensibly been the primary purpose of the genre. At the very least, it was meant to expose us to a world of corruption, self-interest and the impossibility of good politics, in order to shatter our illusion that the current state of liberal democratic capitalism is capable of protecting the vulnerable, building up a healthy, inclusive society, of ensuring that the "right" and the "good" will consistently speak of each other in a language of universal norms. We have been led to the same sort of “conversion of disillusionment” that Palpatine led Anakin upon, but one that is at best only a semi-conversion.

I describe this purpose as “ostensible” partly because it has lately descended into being merely “ostentatious,” which brings me to one last thought. We have now become tired of cheering for the bad guy, tired of “hard-hitting drama” full of anti-heroes. Game of Thrones rose to popularity precisely when the genre was at its peak, but with this last season many feel that its exposure of a brutally misogynist quest for power has gone too far. Instead of seeking to make our own world safer for women and girls through its expositive critical realism, it verges on normalizing rape and violence as part of the “real world as it is.” To say this is irresponsible is a grave understatement. To say that it is no longer popular is to miss the point somewhat, but at the very least suggests that this approach is no longer so “edgy” or “cool.” (By way of disclosure, I should state that I still intend to give season 6 a chance, but I fear that it has now descended into pointlessness.)

Thankfully, others are starting to get the message. Most telling is the way season 3 of House of Cards season 3 shows Underwood’s own house beginning to topple. After decades of bossing people around and throwing them onto subway tracks for disobedience, his closest confidants are standing up to him and getting away with it. Instead of repeating the now-tired formula, this show just might turn out to be a fascinating meditation on the futility described in Ecclesiastes. New sci-fi shows such as Killjoys and Dark Matter may contain aspects of the old formula, but look like their characters' will be as heroic as possible given their circumstances. The big screen is proving to be a primary arena for this turn back to the positive. Tomorrowland primarily seeks to open up possible horizons for human flourishing, and a massive slate of upcoming Marvel films (all with problems of their own) will stay true to their good-guy and good-gal adventuring. 

Finally, I will say it again: the Original Star Wars Trilogy keeps reminding us of the uplifting adventure that comes with cheering for the good guys. Once Darth Sidious unmasks himself at the top (somewhat like the way Underwood unmasks himself), the arrogance of open corruption becomes his downfall. He cannot see the role that Luke Skywalker will have in bringing about the Return of the Jedi, a role he takes on by redeeming the Chosen One to fulfill his destiny by bringing balance to the Force. When Sith Lord Darth Vader is unmasked (figuratively and literally) by Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker indeed returns, ending the Bane lineage, denying the Sith quest for unlimited power, and flipping the Sith mask-identity relationship on its head.

In this Seventh Star Wars Year, I hope we are ready for the next chapter in the Saga and remember how to cheer for the good guy.