Alright, I'm gonna level with you.
I, honest to God, do not really understand this trope.
Now, that's a me problem, I understand that,
but just realize that my attitude towards this trope is seriously skewed in some key ways.
For one thing, I personally have enormous trouble recognizing when two people are in a relationship,
and what exactly that means to them.
One time I asked a friend of mine how a relationship with another friend of mine was going,
at which point she told me that they'd been broken up for two weeks.
These are two weeks that I spent hanging out with them regularly,
so it's not like I had the excuse of not being there to notice.
Another time two of my other friends had broken up earlier that day,
and even after I was informed of this fact,
I didn't understand why this meant they weren't sitting with each other at lunch anymore.
Point is, even on a good day,
I have like no sense for these things.
And for another thing, I...
straight-up don't see the appeal a lot of the time.
It's a rare relationship, fictional or otherwise, that makes me think "Oh, wow, that looks like fun."
I just... I don't get it. It is what it is.
Now, understandably, this has seriously affected how I view romantic subplots.
I have trouble recognizing the build-up to a relationship as anything compelling,
I have trouble relating to some of the characters' actions when they're actually in relationships,
and a lot of the time, I just don't really like the part of the story that centers on the relationship,
but part of the problem here is these are all parts of storytelling that actually have endemic writing problems
that serve to make them less compelling across the board.
So although I'm basically working with blinders on,
I have attempted to codify what exactly those writing problems are,
as well as ways that romantic subplots have been done so well that even I can appreciate them.
So the first problem is that, in a lot of modern media, romantic subplots are treated as being inevitable.
Cop shows, movie remakes, superhero cartoons, sci-fi, fantasy,
Romance is everywhere, regardless of genre, both in fiction and reality.
But what this means is that if a romance is included only because it's considered to be inevitable,
it can easily feel forced and devoid of chemistry.
A lot of poorly handled romances just automatically pair up the leading lady with the most protagonist-y dude,
and then that's...it.
The plot will just treat the characters like they have a thing going on,
regardless of whether or not their characters actually have any chemistry at all.
This has led to this weirdly pervasive problem,
where a romantic subplot will be assumed unless explicitly addressed and denied.
This is how you get big dramatic kisses with zero actual preamble.
The romantic subplot is assumed to be there,
so a lot of the time nobody actually bothers to write the stupid thing,
and we, the audience, are relied on to have filled in the blanks ourselves.
There's a reason why "boy meets girl" is author shorthand for a romantic subplot.
The simple act of two characters meeting will be enough to kick off the assumed romantic subplot,
so long as the characters fulfill a few baseline qualifications.
This is why so many people were utterly blindsided by the fact that Pacific Rim
didn't end with Mako and Reilly making out.
They were two leading individuals of disparate gender and similar apparent age,
they'd shared a deep interpersonal connection and a healthy mutual respect,
and she saw him shirtless one time.
How can they not be in a committed relationship by the two-hour mark?
And because this assumption of romance is so prevalent,
I honestly think it's the biggest problem people have when writing romance.
We live in a society where relationships are considered to be the norm, both in fiction and in real life.
And this leads to a combination shortcut and blind spot in writing.
If two characters are going to end up together in your story,
all you need to do to convince your audience of that fact
is to have them stare at each other for five seconds while soft music plays,
or have one of them see the other comedically naked,
or maybe suggest grabbing a coffee if you're feeling traditional.
And because our relationship senses are on a hair-trigger,
these tiny cinematic tricks will imply to us that these characters have
magically forged some sort of deep fulfilling personal connection that's destined to end in makeouts.
This is the short cut part.
But the problem is, this short cut circumvents the actual development of their relationship.
It just drops two characters into a relationship context with zero groundwork to support it.
And that's the blind spot part, since it can easily leave your audience,
consciously or subconsciously, wondering,
"How the heck did we get here?"
The best example I can think of this happens in season one of Legend of Korra.
As soon as we get introduced to handsome bad boy leading-man type Mako,
Korra develops an incredibly bland crush on him.
And after some fairly standard "He has a girlfriend, but we have something special" shenanigans,
they wind up in a relationship that literally nobody seems to have found all that compelling.
Not even the actual characters in the relationship,
since they break up later that very same season.
Now I will say, as much as I found their relationship to be blander than unflavored oatmeal,
I really like how the showrunners handled the consequences of the blind spot in-universe
by having the characters realize that their relationship wasn't working right and their dynamics were all wrong.
It's a very eloquent demonstration of what can happen when two characters with "leading man" and "leading lady" stamped on their foreheads
start pursuing a relationship for no reason other than it's what's expected to happen.
Now part of the problem here is that, while the short cut romance can let you get right to the good stuff
if you personally are already on board with the ship,
if your author has set up a romantic subplot short cut,
but you personally don't think these characters make any sense together,
the total lack of actual in-story structure to support their spontaneous romance will leave you
floundering, unconvinced of their chemistry,
and frequently dreading the amount of time that the plot is inevitably going to devote to these two characters
going through the romantic subplot motions without actually having any heart in it.
(Side note: This was basically my reaction to the second half of Samurai Jack Season 5.)
Now what I mean by 'romantic subplot motions' is that there are some very common,
prepackaged romantic storylines that get used,
and how this works is that two, often fully developed, characters will be slotted into pre-plotted roles,
and will basically act out the motions of the standard plot,
regardless of whether or not it feels like those motions actually fit their character.
Here's an example of one of those prepackaged romantic storylines:
Overly serious woman with no time for relationships is pursued by goofy, persistent manchild.
The first time he makes her crack a smile, the romantic subplot is officially underway.
It inevitably becomes clear that this overly serious woman is, in fact, deeply damaged,
and this goofy manchild might be exactly who she needs to bring some sunshine back into her heart.
Now bear in mind, I just described the romantic subplots of both Guardians of the Galaxy and Castle,
two stories I really like.
Just because a romantic subplot is common, and even frequently poorly used,
doesn't mean it's inherently bad or story breaking.
But if you slot two characters into the subplot for whom it doesn't make much sense,
you can accidentally get some seriously creepy undertones
if it feels like both characters really shouldn't be on board with this kind of thing.
If, for example, it feels like the overly serious woman just really genuinely wants to be left alone
and has no interest in humoring the manchild,
the goofy manchild's persistence in pursuing her can come across as something like stalking.
So what happens is, if you're not careful, two characters playing out a standard romantic subplot
can end up feeling out of character the entire time the subplot's happening.
And this leads to something I like to call 'The Audience Third Wheel Effect',
where it's like the character we like turns into a whole different person when their S/O is around.
This is basically how real third-wheeling feels.
If your bro acts like they're a different person to their partner than they are to you,
then when they're around that partner, that different person is all you see.
And if the characters you otherwise like or relate to become different characters when romance is involved,
it can make you feel just as awkward and uncomfortable as a real third wheel situation does.
But of course, the assumed-yet-undeveloped romance, the out-of-character, generic romantic actors,
and the third wheel effect are only problems
if the relationship isn't being portrayed in an independently compelling way.
The major problem that creates each of these issues is that sometimes,
characters and romantic subplots will feel empty,
except for the role they play in that romantic subplot.
And this mostly happens when the romantic subplot is prioritized
over the integrity of the characters that make it up.
As always, sacrificing a character's personality for the sake of plot is a bad idea.
This is one of the reasons why the ubiquity of the romantic subplot
makes it so easy to fall into this particular trap.
Romance subplots are everywhere,
and because they're everywhere, they're incredibly easy to write without even thinking about it.
But if you do that, you lose track of the characters you're involving in the romance subplot,
and because the romance has to be built out of actual character interactions in order to feel real,
slotting two pre-existing characters into a prepackaged romance subplot will always end up feeling wrong.
Your characters will lose their characterizations when they interact in the context of the romantic subplot,
and that's just...annoying.
It makes the whole romance feel annoying, because it'll never feel in character
if your characters stop being characters when the romance is happening.
You get a similar problem if you have two characters utterly devoid of personality
outside of the context to their romantic subplot,
since that creates empty characters that are just there to spout one-liners and make out.
But that problem is way bigger than just being a romantic subplot thing,
since any character that just exists to serve a plot is always gonna feel devoid of, well, character.
So the solution here basically presents itself.
A romantic subplot, at bare minimum,
has to arise naturally from the characterizations of the characters involved.
Otherwise you get stuff like...this.
Sorry, man, unless it's Spock's time of the septennial, I'm not buying it.
Anyway, this basically just means that your designated romantic partners need chemistry.
They have to interact in an interesting way, and they have to care about each other in a meaningful way.
Coincidentally, this is also how to write compelling friendships.
It's no surprise that there's something of a gray area between the two,
and that's where all the shipping happens.
(Most of the shipping, anyway.)
So, your characters have to care about each other.
There are all kinds of ways to do that.
Sometimes, one of your characters has an explicit reason they care about the other,
like they remind them of a dead loved one or they need them alive for some external reason.
But a lot of compelling relationships start with two characters who just...
obviously care about each other's well-being with no explicit justification needed.
As long as they can demonstrate that in-story,
you'll be able to establish that their relationship,
whatever it ends up being, is based on mutual compassion.
Now, there are a few standard story ways to demonstrate this kind of thing.
Broadly, most of them fall under the umbrella of "one of them helps the other one through a moment of crisis."
In some cases this manifests as an explicit rescue romance.
One of them is in danger and the other one swoops in to rescue them.
Some fictional relationships are built entirely on this dynamic happening over and over again.
But "crisis" can mean a lot of things, and it doesn't have to be rescue from mortal peril every time.
And it also doesn't have to be one-sided.
A lot of battle couples cement their relationships by watching each other's backs in combat situations,
paying attention to each other's well-being as naturally and fluidly as they attend to their own.
Also, sometimes the crisis is non-physical.
Emotional trauma or breakdowns are fairly common,
and one character supporting another one through that sort of thing is a
very widely used way to establish an appropriately affectionate relationship.
And sometimes, this help-in-crisis thing actually ends up inverted.
In superhero media, for example, moments of crisis make up about 80 percent of the plot,
so in these scenarios, a solid way to demonstrate a special kind of care between two characters
is to have them sharing quiet moments with low stakes,
rather than just watching each other's backs in high-octane combat.
Now, obviously, this doesn't mean that these two characters have to be all mutually supportive, all the time.
Banter, bickering, or even genuine arguments and fighting
don't detract from the overall concept that these two characters really truly care about one another.
This is handled very simply most of the time.
The characters will bicker or banter when things are chill, but if stuff ever gets really serious,
well, so do they.
When the chips are down, they're mutually supportive in whatever ways have already been established.
Basically, while at heart, these characters would most likely die for each other,
on the surface, their interactions are liable to be a lot more... human,
and that gives you plenty of room for snark banter, straight-up fights, misunderstandings,
and all the other building blocks that interesting on-screen character dynamics are made of.
In fact, sometimes one of the most useful ways to demonstrate the two characters have
that kind of deep mutual understanding that facilitates romance
is to have one of them call the other out on some sort of BS or misbehavior.
Since it conveniently demonstrates both that they have a close enough relationship for that
sort of conversation to happen without being weird,
and that one has a clear enough understanding of the other to be
able to recognize and clearly address whatever toxic stuff is running around in their head.
Also, since communication is one of those pillars of a healthy relationship,
this sort of interaction is a good sign for their relationship as a whole.
Having one member of the potential relationship actively facilitate or inspire character development in the other
is a solid way to establish how close their characters have already become.
Now most of this preamble and drama usually leads up to a big moment where
it's established that these two are finally in a romantic relationship.
The most traditional of these big moments is the kiss.
Although a big dramatic kiss doesn't actually count for much on its own.
Since if it doesn't have enough preamble to establish the closeness of the characters' relationship,
it can feel forced or just generally weird...
since a big significant kiss signals that we were supposed to be rooting for this outcome.
[ shipper's outrage D8< ]
But let's assume you've written and established their character dynamics,
you've led up to their big romantic moment with adequate development of both characters in their mutual dynamic
... and they have officially demonstrated their love for each other in a manner that the characters and the audience find compelling.
What now?
Well now, you have two characters in a relationship.
And here's something interesting!
Many, many writers seem to have ridiculous amounts of trouble writing characters in a relationship.
In fact, most stories with a major romantic subplots will end on the big relationship sealing moment ...
... and NEVER have to directly address the consequences.
And if they have a sequel, a major issue in the sequel plot will frequently be that the couple is either having relationship problems...
or has actively broken up...
or in the extreme cases, that one of them has died!
Or sometimes, if the romance is a major component of a long-running TV show,
the authors will just drag it out and pace it out with drama...
Rather than just letting the characters get together and act as a healthy couple.
And this is true even in situations where the characters actually have legit chemistry!
Consider the Marvel movies.
Specifically how they deal with Thor.
Movie one [Thor film] does a remarkably good job of establishing a compelling relationship between Thor and Jane.
Demonstrating their mutual interest in both their respective worlds and each other.
And then, the next time we see Jane in Thor: The Dark World, she hasn't seen Thor in years!
He didn't bother to stop by post-Avengers.
And even though they're still close...
It's not really like their relationship has been... happening.
They put all this work in the first movie into actually developing a charming believable Shakespearean romance between these two interesting characters,
and then they don't know what to do with it!
And I have no idea why this is a thing.
It's so weird to me that we've managed to create literary shortcuts like,
"Five seconds of sustained eye contact" that fast tracks the actual romance into being a thing.
Literary shortcuts like "The Big Kiss" that clue the audience in on their relationship becoming 'official'.
"Will they, won't they?" drama to keep the audience on edge and invested in the relationship.
And then have next to no way of handling the ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP we've just spent all this time and effort setting up!
Now this problem isn't universal but it's pretty close.
Most romantic subplots functionally end with the big kiss to establish that the relationship is official.
And once that happens, it just kind of stops.
Subplot: Over.
Relationship: Achieved.
Achievement unlocked!
Now part of this might be because the actual process of building a relationship is usually more dramatic and high-stakes than maintaining one.
And is therefore more interesting to include among the actual on-screen interactions.
But I really do think that we have a bizarrely difficult time portraying healthy relationships on-screen.
And unfortunately...
I am exactly the wrong person to talk about how people in real established relationships work!
But I can extrapolate how fictional relationships can be done right from the few examples I've seen where the characters managed to stay interesting.
Even after their relationship got solidified on-screen and they stopped all the "will they won't they" nonsense.
And the unifying thread seems to be that the characters basically act the same before and after the Big Kiss.
Minus, any "will they won't they" stuff. Plus, a little more PDA and something resembling total openness with one another.
You know, how people would logically behave in a mutually supportive an healthy relationship.
Basically, they stay in character, but they also trust and support each other and share a deep mutual compassionate bond.
And if one or both of them can't be in character while having that kind of relationship,
they shouldn't be ridden with that kind of relationship. Simple as that!
Characters who can't stay in character and be in a relationship at the same time shouldn't be shoehorned into relationships.
This obviously doesn't mean they can't undergo character development during the relationships
... and in fact, they probably SHOULD.
But if the only way for a character to be in a relationship is for them to stop being themselves entirely,
then it probably shouldn't happen. For everyone's sake.
So... yeah.
Hey, this video was sponsored by subscriber, T. Ellery Hodges.
So we're gonna take a hot minute to talk about his book.
So, 'The Never Hero' is the first book in the multi award-winning series, 'The Chronicles of Johnathan Tibbs'.
With over five thousand five star reviews on Audible, Amazon, Goodreads, and a bunch of other places!
People really seem to like this book.
This series also has Book Awards in sci-fi and urban fantasy so it has genre-bending creds too!
Anyhow, The Never Hero follows Jonathan Tibbs, the completely average college student who ends up drawing the short straw when an alien shows up needing a chosen one to save the world!
And unlike the usual saving the world fair, our hero Jonathan is trapped in a particularly maddening cosmic pickle
Because not only is he no match to fight off the army of interdimensional monsters attacking earth,
But he's also the only one who even knows he's fighting a war at all.
See whenever he survives a death match with one of the trespassers.
Time rolls back to the moment before Earth was under attack.
Leaving everyone else none the wiser!
So...
Like, imagine Thunderdome...
Except the arena is a temporary time bubble existing outside our dimension...
And when you win no one so much as gives you a cookie.
So throw in a pinch of Edge of Tomorrow into that too.
But no Tom Cruise or Mel Gibson.
And even if it's not relevant, Matt Damon isn't there either.
Anyway, getting back on topic,
Yeah, it sucks to be Jonathan, but good news!
This isn't the story of a guy with epicly bad luck.
But an inspiring glimpse into the mind of a person after he decides to become whatever it takes to defy the odds.
Even if that means ditching the traditional hero's journey in order to do it.
The main character and his roommates even talked about superhero tropes.
And who doesn't like talking about tropes?
So do you love mind-bending action?
Do you love a hero you can't help rooting for?
Then you should click the link in the description and start listening to The Never Hero today!