No series — no matter how critically lauded — is immune from characters that make you scratch your head and question the writers you normally praise week after week. These characters nearly ruined fantastic television shows:
Monica Reyes — The X Files
The paranormal investigations of FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully brought sci-fi television into the mainstream with a bountiful premise and intriguing concepts. When Mulder’s actor David Duchovny chose to depart from the show for a time in Season 8, the woeful hole he left behind couldn’t be shouldered by Scully alone — two new detectives joined the FBI’s most haunted department, one of them being Monica Reyes.
The foundation of this series was built around Scully’s skepticism and Mulder’s unflinching belief in fantastical concepts. Reyes seemed a good replacement for Mulder as a fellow believer, but as she gradually opened up about her beliefs, her own Mulder-stand-in status seemed to dissolve. The psycho-kinetic powers Monica claimed to tap into seemed more comical and less believable than aliens or vampires. Where Mulder’s beliefs were always teased with truth by the end of the episode, Monica’s psychic voyages were rife with well-deserved skepticism, a crucial part in the quality downfall of one of television’s best shows.
The Sand Snakes — Game of Thrones
Besides the mute and chaotic White Walkers, no character in Game of Thrones was purely evil. Even the most disturbing character like Ramsay Bolton just wanted his father’s acceptance — the show’s sadistic figures were always given a platform to stand on to inform their worldview. In a world of richly detailed and intense character studies, the Sand Snakes left our typically satiated appetites frustratingly dry. After the death of Oberyn Martell, the sisters rallied around his lover Ellaria in a bid to do… something?
With a muddled end goal as a motivation of revenge, the fact that even the series most brutal characters mentally planned was thrown out the window. Game of Thrones went to great lengths — even the lengths of several seasons — to show how even the most minor actions have bitter consequences. The Sand Snakes began murdering the royals of Dorne with no thought or experience as to how to run a kingdom or start a war with a family as powerful as the Lannisters. And worst of all, their murder of Cersei’s daughter Myrcella was completely unjustified, in a less than subtle comment on anger and revenge. And perhaps most upsetting about their introduction was that their blood lust was not rewarded with any great battle or dismemberment. The Mountain would have been ashamed.
Patty Bladell — Insatiable
With the amount of cash that Netflix has available to throw at its original programming, it’s a no-brainer that some of their projects won’t land — some present incredibly problematic characterizations. With a disturbing premise — a formerly heavy person becomes beautiful and popular only after losing weight because her jaw was clamped — Insatiable was bound to have a lead character that would inhabit the worst of those ideals. Patty was unfortunately the victim of bullying due to her weight and chose to strike back via a beauty pageant.
With its framing as a comedy, Patty is unable to explore her anger and why she has chosen to not rise above the same venom that was spewed at her. As an audience, we cannot fully judge her for taking the same path her bullies did — but it is that type of inaction that leads to true growth as a character. Bullies are people who are stuck in high school, a place where they feel powerful and protected. Unfortunately for Patty, she is allowing herself to join the same pool of people that simply cycle around in constant badgering, arguing, and victimizing.
Jackie Aprile Jr. — The Sopranos
The Sopranos’ deeply personal characterizations of richly written and flawed Mafiosos brought a masterclass of all things filmmaking to audiences’ televisions week after week — and then there’s Jackie Jr. Though his father wanted him to be a “good college boy,” Jackie Aprile Jr.’s near-comical musclebound frame had none of the grit, strength, or mental acuity that nearly all his cast members had. When the show focused on patriarch Tony Soprano’s personal life, the language of the show certainly changed — but the quality of the writing did not.
Tony’s children Meadow and AJ spoke and sounded like teenagers attempting to navigate their way in the world. Jackie Jr.’s dialogue seems to have had a different writer. He seemed to be written by someone who hadn’t been to college — or been young — in roughly 30 years. To make matters worse, a show filled with exceptional performances was dragged down by the actor’s portrayal and slightly grating delivery of already poor dialogue. Though it is hard to bring ruin to a nearly perfect show such as The Sopranos, Jackie Jr. certainly sticks out as a misstep.
Lady Mary Crawley — Downton Abbey
PBS’s flagship series had a gorgeously photographed pilot highlighting the complexities of Edwardian living. Multiple characters were introduced with no clear indication of who the true lead would be as romantic intrigue immediately grew. Lady Mary Crawley would eventually emerge as the main protagonist, but her journey to leading Downton into the future was almost stopped by her formerly irritating attitude. Unnecessarily filled with malice and venom — for her sister Edith especially — Mary had a chip on her shoulder from the moment we first met her.
Though her intended — someone she had no love for, necessarily — had just passed away, she used it as an excuse to mourn by being rude, scandalous, and unappreciative of how her family maneuvered constantly to give her the future of Downton Abbey. Perhaps one could chalk it up to being raised in an upper-crust family, but even in the pilot, we are given enough glimpses into her parents and sisters to demonstrate that this is a personality trait all her own. Mary liked to play games with people rather than on a board, and it didn’t take long for the writers to understand that if Downton Abbey was to succeed, they needed to change their strategy.
Nikki & Paolo — Lost
If you are unsure of who is being referenced, count yourself lucky. Lost’s greatest strength was never its mysteries — instead, it was the tortured, lonely characters that came together as a family and grew from their individual and shared trauma. Although its impressive ensemble grew with each season, it made sense that the script didn’t have enough time to explore every survivor of Oceanic 815 — and sadly took a whole glorious episode to focus on criminals Nikki and Paolo. With muddled motivations and poor characterizations, the consistently tangled web of drama and sci-fi was given a grinding halt.
Its main narrative of redemption and destiny was unapologetically sidetracked in order to facilitate the most unnecessary plot possible in this glaring backward step for the series. To give a criminal background to this terrible two-some was a tired retread of Kate and Sawyer’s past lives — from the get-go, Nikki and Paolo don’t have a strong foundation to grow from. Every ensemble series is going to have outlier characters, but those figures need to reflect the themes of the show while propping up and supplying something to its leads. Rose and Bernard fit this description perfectly — Nikki and Paolo should have happily disappeared into the smoke monster’s dark haze much earlier in the writer’s room.
Scrappy-Doo — Scooby-Doo
The Mystery, Inc. gang is a perfectly meshed blend of personalities and appearances — fun premises with a well-balanced animated cast is why Scooby-Doo’s adventures remain an entertainment fixture to this day. It is decidedly not due to the presence of Scooby’s nephew, Scrappy-Doo, however. With a wildly annoying voice and attitude to match, Scrappy’s episodes are among the worst in the Doo Canon. The classic voice work of the gang was diluted by Scrappy’s grating and high-pitched voice as he lacked all of the charm that made his uncle Scoob so fun to watch.
It is not just the on-air mannerisms of Scrappy that present him as a problem — the real issue is why is he even there? Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby are all perfect foils of each other. They don’t need another member — what other personality is there to highlight? True to his name, this annoying nephew seems to have gone for the scraps of the more courageous and studious members of Mystery, Inc. without leaving any room for fresh originality even for his pint-sized frame.
Walden Schmidt — Two and a Half Men
For better or worse, Charlie Sheen is a force of nature — a raging whirlwind of exclamations and high-profile celebrity scandal whose real-life antics helped create his not-so-fictionalized version of himself on Two and a Half Men. After a tirade of troublesome quotes — many aimed at Men’s creator Chuck Lorre — Sheen was fired from his trademark show. Ashton Kutcher was brought on to replace him, as Alan’s newest roommate Walden Schmidt. But where Charlie’s character was presented as a lovable scoundrel, Kutcher’s billionaire character lacked all the same bite.
Without Charlie’s effortless charm and the feeling he only scraped by on his beach house living, any dramatic tension possible in a sitcom was erased. Walden’s copious funds are above and beyond what most people dream of yet he is presented as a relatable sitcom character. The energy of the show shifted into Alan showing Walden how to become a lady’s man — keep in mind that Alan has little to no skill in this area. This was a further sign that the show needed one of its original two men — and Ashton Kutcher’s character couldn’t fill that space.
Marc Brendanawicz — Parks and Recreation
Like The Office before it, Parks and Recreation had a difficult first season — the blend of its now iconic characters wasn’t quite there and the tone and style of the series had yet to be fully decided upon. The most notable example of this early flaw was city planner Marc Brendanawicz. In a series filled with passionate people — even April is passionate about decidedly not being passionate — Marc was a sore thumb of a character. His apathetic attitude almost begs the question if the actor was bored while filming.
He is the fixation of Leslie’s early romantic attention, and constantly brushes her off — not always with soft but firm kindness either. For a person as determined and giving as Leslie Knope, you scratch your head wondering what she sees in this lethargic person. Regardless of whose choice the departure was, Marc thankfully did not return for Season 2 — a season that brought Adam Scott and Rob Lowe to Pawnee, Indiana, and gave the series the voice it was so desperately looking for to get out of The Office’s shadow.
Negan — The Walking Dead
Much like its undead legions, The Walking Dead is a show that refuses to die. As each season became increasingly repetitive, showrunners were hoping that the menacing Negan would save the show — their gamble nearly sank their already water-logged ship. With a razor-wire-wrapped baseball bat as a weapon and his army of post-apocalyptic warriors, Negan seemed primed to shake up the world of Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and the other survivors.
Negan certainly caused the heroes plenty of pain and misery, but the so-called charm that actor Jeffrey Dean Morgan attempted to exude was dripping in sappy writing, eye-rolling one-liners, and egregious posturing. With a constant lean in his step as he swung around Lucille — his uber-man baseball bat — Morgan’s Negan played up the same bit time and time again, further exemplifying The Walking Dead’s issue with repetition. In their bid to make Negan a safe bad boy, they relied on what they had done before — both in his overall plot and presence and in his mannerisms and quips, scene to scene.
Violet Harmon — American Horror Story
FX’s anthology let Ryan Murphy fully flex his creative muscles and has since expanded into grander tales draped in beautifully filmed color pallets. Yet, its first season was a traditional — and perhaps far more effective — haunted house tale framed in the plights of a fractured family that delivered true emotion, grisly twists, and a frightening atmosphere. But Violet (Taissa Farmiga), the daughter stuck in the center of two warring parents, came off as whiny and directionless.
Her goth aesthetic and apathetic demeanor diminished the realistic tone of the season and made her relationship with Evan Peters’ Tate seem like its script pages were ripped out of a dark, 80s neo-thriller. Her back-and-forth emotions pushed her into caricature, something American Horror Story has done well to avoid in the seasons since. When this now-classic series debuted, it broke the mold with what was acceptable as horror on television screens by engaging in shocking visuals and a unique look into American life — portions of Violet seem to have been left in the writer’s room, as her voice and character seem all too unfortunately outdated and overused.
Rachel Berry — Glee
Lea Michelle’s recent social media controversy seems to be an extension of the annoyance that defined her trademark character in the popular musical series Glee. As the stereotypical goody-two-shoes, Rachel Berry’s characterization as the burgeoning star under the thumb of high school bullies could have been a wonderful starting point — yet Rachel is condescending and aloof to all she encounters. Her superiority complex is mind-numbingly obvious from the first scenes we see her in.
For a school that seems to detest the arts so much, why is she so desperate to angrily prove she has star quality? Who else in this school — that suddenly becomes flooded with glorious auto-tune voices — would be able to claim that spot besides her? It becomes a driving source of conflict, the type that most well-done screenplays stay away from. Conflict driven by ample character motivation is always better than conflict created for the sake of its existence. To propel the plot forward, Glee got lost in the muck that many early television shows do — throwing something at the camera regardless of whether it will land and dealing with the fallout at a later date.
Ahsoka Tona — The Clone Wars
Though she is a fan favorite today, Ahsoka’s introduction almost spelled certain doom for what has gone on to be a revered piece of Star Wars canon. With Revenge of the Sith fully embracing the tried and true bond of Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi, many fans were scratching their heads at the addition of a Padawan for the future Darth Vader. Why did we never hear of this character who clearly played a prominent part in the titular war between the Republic and the Separatists?
Though Rey — the central figure of the Sequel Trilogy — has been unnecessarily labeled a “Mary Sue” figure, it is Ahsoka who strode into a war zone with full confidence and lacking all the skills to deal with it. Anakin has displayed his fair share of cockiness, but his raw strength in the Force has saved him from certain death many a time. Even then, nearly all of us have seen how he ultimately paid the price for such actions. Ahsoka’s lesson in humility is nonexistent as she is able to conquer any objective in her path — a dangerous narrative move proving her cavalier attitude to be right.
Caliban — Chilling Adventures of Sabrina
Netflix’s deep dive into the darker territory of Sabrina Spellman’s life was met with praise for its unique visual style and progressive use of its principal cast. The latest season sent the teenage witch to the cavernous kingdom of Hell, where its denizens were less than thrilled to take orders from her — chief among them Prince Caliban. Descending Hell’s throne with a six-pack of abs — of course — his amount of screen presence and potential redemption is squandered in an instant to reclaim a narrative that had written itself into a corner.
He drawls on how Hell would benefit from his leadership, but the writers and directors choose to have him smirk flirtatiously at Sabrina rather than demonstrate how he outranks and outperforms the daughter of Satan. Though they battle by proxy through rigorous challenges, it gives us zero insight into how Caliban operates. Being snarky, and devious, but handsome seems enough to get by in this extension of Riverdale, but to see a contender for Hell’s throne be so poorly used takes all the fiery pleasure away from the viewer.
Kali and Co. — Stranger Things
Netflix’s go-to original series embraced the nostalgia of Spielberg’s films and King’s novels — a small town steeped in inter-dimensional darkness made for intense drama in a wonderfully local setting. Season 2 saw telekinetic Eleven venturing to Chicago, hoping to connect with those who were spawned from the same program as her. Kali — aka Eight — leads a gang of needlessly comically 80s camp criminals, using her powers of projection to help them get away with their heists.
It sounds like a great plot point in theory, but the charm of the show was always how evil can lurk in the most unsuspecting of corners — on the dark streets of Chicago, superpowered people committing crimes seemed like X-Men-meets-Heat. By virtue of her name, Eleven is not the first person to have been subjected to the government’s horrible tests. But Season 1 was partially made so special because this strange little girl was embraced not by people like her, but by people very different from her. Adolescent growth is a hallmark of Spielberg’s and King’s works, and this deviation from the Stranger Things’ main inspirations was woefully obvious.
Brian Griffin — Family Guy
With any long-running program, characters frequently change and become stereotypical and embrace what people seem to know about them the most. Where Peter Griffin was once a laughable family man with no filter, his unintelligent actions began to reflect his brain power. The rest happened for the Griffin family, but most notably in their bookish dog Brian. Always a scholar, Brian’s braininess soon became his weapon of intellectual scrutiny against his family. With the writers embracing Brian’s perceived astuteness in full stride, the family dog was suddenly a sour archetype of superiority and hubris.
In his growing belief that he was going to be the next great novelist or screenwriter — and already believing his work is on par with legends — Brian became increasingly irritating to both the human Griffins and the audience. There are multiple ways to put it with a plethora of fancy words, but Brian would probably delight in that. In all fairness to the loyal viewership of Family Guy, their favorite dog simply became an insufferable jerk.
Kylie Jenner — Keeping Up With the Kardashians
Her listing may seem odd at first, but in the arena of so-called reality television, are we going to think that these people aren’t products of segments that have been heavily staged and manipulated via editing? The original youngest member of the Kardashian-Jenner clan has now eclipsed several of her family members in fame, wealth, and even infamy. Though many can resent the seemingly vapid sisters, it is Kylie who was raised in this life from nearly day one — and it shows.
Her drawl of first-world annoyances and rich people problems is problematic for an impressionable audience. Her perspective and realm of understanding are so limited due to the hardships that she has not had to endure. Many successful people come from already successful families — but perhaps the true success is not letting it show and believing that one can always strive to achieve more. Gratitude and self-awareness seem to be lacking — as does her billion-dollar net worth that she tried to sell to Forbes magazine.
Toro Calican — The Mandalorian
Disney+’s flagship original series gave Star Wars fanatics a new slice of the ever-expanding universe. Baby Yoda became mainstream, and many were saying “Boba Fett who?” after the cowboy-cool actions of the titular bounty hunter. Episode 5 of the eight-part series saw the Mandalorian seeking refuge on Tatooine in the same cantina where Luke and Obi-Wan first met Han Solo in. Hoping to partner with him is Toro Calican. A dry performance in a universe full of rich characterizations was as arid as the Judland Wastes of Tatooine itself.
With full knowledge that the Mandalorian is an infamous member of the Bounty Hunter’s Guild, Calican still presents himself with the utmost cockiness — without having bagged any bodies himself before. Being a part of the series midpoint didn’t help his screentime either — Calican was the latest in a line of Bantha-brained pirates who thought they could whisk Baby Yoda away from our hero. Too self-serious to be comical and not funny enough to display any solid characterization, Calican weighs down the silver-helmed bounty hunter far more than lugging Jabba the Hutt could.
Paul Woodrugh — True Detective
HBO had its work cut out for them in following up the critically acclaimed first season of True Detective. To replace stars like Matthew McConaughey and Woody Harrelson would be tough enough, but the depth of characters dealing with darkness — internal and external — created drama that audiences couldn’t wait to sink their teeth into. With three new characters leading the charge against crime, Taylor Kitsch’s officer Paul Woodrugh emerged as the weak link. As a highway patrolman, his experience on the streets of Los Angeles was not as great, nor was his access to files and information that would matter.
His inclusion in the overall plot seems out of place along with a performance that could ask for a bit more oomph behind the script. True Detective’s greatest strength was the darkness a law enforcement officer sees every day constantly clashing against the growing darkness within themselves. Kitsch’s character lacked the depth to create that same haunting resonance — another reason why HBO was eager to spearhead a course correction Season 3 with Oscar winner Mahershala Ali.
Mary Louise Wright — Big Little Lies
Pick your jaw up off the floor — even the mightiest of actresses can play a character that causes a great show to turn on its head. As a fresh addition to the second season, Streep came to town to personally investigate her son’s death — a son that was a rapist and a habitual domestic abuser. Believing her son was a golden boy, Streep’s pestering of the core five characters was childish and wildly against the grain that the first season had created in terms of quality.
Perhaps the series anchor — among a cast of remarkable actresses — Nicole Kidman’s Celeste is not only Mary’s daughter-in-law but is a successful lawyer. In the courtroom scenes related to Mary’s erroneous claim she deserved custody of Celeste’s children, all court proceedings are thrown out of the logic in the screenplay. Though Celeste would see the painful logic errors, she only reacts with a trump card far later than the suspension of disbelief allows. Mary’s insufferably naïve writing stirs up drama for drama’s sake, the type of move you would expect from a soap opera rather than a quality programmer like HBO.
Deangelo Vickers — The Office
After Jim and Pam’s will-they-won’t-they romance was solidified in Season 4, it became so very clear that it was Steve Carell’s Michael Scott who was the true heart and soul of the show — a fact made all the more glaringly obvious when he announced his departure after seven years. A humorous subplot gave several famous faces the chance to cameo in their interview to be Dunder Mifflin’s new manager, and it was Will Ferrell’s Deangelo Vickers that landed with a dud. Michael Scott was no brainiac, but his good intentions always outweighed his buffoonery — Deangelo seemed to embrace only the latter half.
Workplace incompetency defined The Office since day one, but the actions of those on camera always seemed to follow a standard operating procedure by the end of the day. It was perhaps Will Ferrell’s style of comedy that didn’t add up in the end. As Steve Carell delved into more serious roles outside of The Office, Ferrell continued to latch onto the side of the ridiculousness and boyish humor. It was a worrying prospect that perhaps The Office couldn’t survive without Steve Carell’s presence — a thought made true perhaps since the show ended two seasons later.
Kevin Pearson — This Is Us
NBC’s wildly successful deconstruction of inter-family relationships has been met with praise across the board — including, but certainly not limited to, its outstanding and poignant performances. It is not Justin Hartley’s performance as Kevin Pearson that is a problem, but rather the writers’ lack of knowledge of what to do with him. An actor in Hollywood, Kevin has seen the negative side of the business which includes access to plenty of illicit materials. Each season seems to find Kevin addicted to a new substance while breaking his latest love interest’s heart with his toxic and embarrassing behavior.
Addiction is nothing to scoff at and to use it as a crutch to put a character constantly in the same conflict makes the disease seem annoying. This deadly narrative cycle rarely gives Kevin the chance to grow. He gets clean on one substance in order to rise, and finds another so he can fall again. Dragging one’s self out of dark depths is a journey that many must face — we often look to fictional characters for inspiration and how to remain in the light. Instead of remaining on the top of the mountain and offering his hand to help others up, the production team would rather see Kevin make the climb again and again.
Ezra Fitz — Pretty Little Liars
Though this writer would happily debate what constitutes a “great” show, there is no denying that Pretty Little Liars was certainly an outrageously popular series. Teenage girls gossiped, fought, and solved murder mysteries — but the egregiously soapy dialogue was the least of its issues. In a high school setting, romance is bound to happen, but it’s something you never want to see take place between a teacher and a student. Ezra Fitz is the handsome new English teacher who goes a bit too far with the schoolgirl crush — and worst of all, the show treats them as star-crossed lovers rather than subjects of much-needed prosecution under the law.
Fitz abandons all his principles as an educator to fulfill his own predatory carnal needs, and the horrible complications seem to be washed away with just a smirk from his “handsome” face. Great shows stand the test of time and remains relevant regardless of when they were produced — with the MeToo movement giving society a better lens to root out problematic behavior, a rewatch of Pretty Little Liars is horribly uncomfortable from episode 1.
Betty Draper — Mad Men
With cigarette smoke and booze adding a palpable stench to every episode, audiences were whisked away into the world of advertising in the 1960s. Though the work of Don Draper (Jon Hamm) is presented as glitzy, the series never shies away from the destructive and maddening realities of the patriarchy, misogyny, and all-around discrimination that defined the era. A notorious womanizer, it is easy to feel sympathy for Don’s wife Betty (January Jones). Long-suffering in silence with full knowledge of his affairs, Betty finds her golden moment and chooses to leave him.
She remarries but the same problem that has plagued her from episode 1 still lingers — a consistent inability to change and be happy. Betty has always suffered from being a static character, never rising to the occasion. It’s a cycle made all the more frustrating when she could be a character that could have represented an entire generation of silenced housewives. What doesn’t help is that in a show full of deeply conflicted performances, January Jones is as vapid and stale as most of the products that Don hawks at work. Despite having amazingly rich, detailed, and fluid female characters like Peggy and Joan (with fantastic performances from Elisabeth Moss and Christina Hendricks respectively), Betty ended up being a character like many of the women in Don’s personal life — left behind.
