It’s no surprise that I love television. And movies. And musicals. And books. And…any other escape from reality (that comes in the form of stories) that you can think of.
But, mostly what I like about these things are the ways I get to learn about people who are, oftentimes, so very different from me. Of course there’s always the occasional character that I identify with, or the ones that I wish I could be like. I know that it’s fiction, but I also know that we write what we know. This fiction that we get so wrapped up in is most likely someone’s reality, in some capacity.
One of my favorite things that happens in stories is when we get a fuller glimpse of the antagonist. When we get to see why the bad guy is the bad guy. There’s usually always a reason, and the reason is always heartbreaking. I usually end up loving the bad guy, while simultaneously hating him. I usually hope for change, I hope for a happy ending for their story…mostly I just love redemption.
For example, I remember always holding out for Sylar in Heroes, desperately sure that he could, indeed, be good. Or how, after watching Wicked, I’ve changed the entire way that I view the Wizard of Oz and the Wicked Witch of the West (maybe she wasn’t so bad after all…she just had some sucky circumstances that were impossible to sort through). Or even Pamela Voorhees in Friday the 13th, who went all murder crazy on some camp counselors after her son drowns due to their negligence (okay, I never rooted for her, but there’s at least some partial understanding of how she got to where she did…). Most recently there’s been a certain fondness developing for Lemon from Hart of Dixie as we catch glimpses of her broken past and the ways it has shaped her into a controlling, mean and selfish southern belle.
It’s the same reason why I loved watching The Dark Knight, or X-Men: First Class, or The Amazing Spider-Man… there’s something really powerful to understanding the depth behind each character’s story, to understanding their backgrounds, the significant events in their lives that made them the superheroes we love today (despite how fictional they may be).
I don’t think we always get to know the past of the bad guys because sometimes it makes us feel for them in ways the writer doesn’t want. Sometimes it makes us cheer on the bad guy instead of the good guy and then the whole story, at least how they intended it, gets screwed up.
I’ve been wondering lately what it would look like if we rooted on the bad guy more often. Not necessarily the bad guy in fictional stories…but maybe the bad guy(s) in our own lives. Obviously, when we’re watching a show or movie, there’s a certain element of comfort as we are only witnessing these character’s stories unfold without having to do any real work…but isn’t it powerful when we finally see why a character is the way they are? Isn’t it, oftentimes, a little heartbreaking, too?
Maybe it’s someone at work who you have a hard time being around because of their constant pessimism. Maybe it’s the brat who thinks they should get everything they want all the time. Maybe it’s the woman who is controlling and nagging, seeking perfection out of everything and everyone. Maybe it’s someone who is actually just mean to people. Maybe it’s the crazy driver who just cut you off. Maybe it’s the waitress who was a little short with you when you were ordering. Maybe it’s the cashier who didn’t even look you in the eye as they checked you out.
They aren’t so much ‘bad’ guys, but they’re people that we often shut out, disregard, get annoyed with, get angry with, tip less, talk bad about, distance ourselves from. They become people that we tolerate because we have to, but very rarely are they people who matter to us. Very rarely do we regard them as people who have stories, who have souls. And very rarely do we ever take the time to get a picture of their realities, of what’s going on beneath the surface…to collect scenes of their pasts that have contributed in making them who they are today.
But what if we did?
What if, like we are forced to sometimes in these fictional stories, we took the time to figure out why people are the way they are? Would our hearts break as we encounter stories of brokenness and pain? Would we hurt for those who have lost, for those who are desperate, who are poor, who are lonely, who have been abandoned, rejected, forgotten, betrayed? Would we maybe even identify with them…?
And what if we offered them hope instead?
Maybe it’s an idealistic world I live in…but I’d like to think that if we were willing to dig below the surface or if we were willing to respond to others’ rudeness, thoughtlessness, sharpness, bitterness, anger with grace, and kindness, and compassion… that maybe lives could be changed.
It’s not the first time you’ve heard it, I know.
But, I think it’s always a good reminder.
People are people.
They matter.
Even the bad guys.
Because, at the end of the day, we’re not so different than them. The same grace and love that saves us is for them, too. The same blood that was shed for us, was also shed for them.
What if we lived like we believed that?