Joe MacMillan can be a mighty son of a bitch. And there’s a lot of facets to him. But I don’t think they’re all necessarily opposed.

There’s the mastermind, the tech guru, the guy who answers things with wistful looks and platitudes. Had the show only lasted one season we would’ve seen a fairly classic anti-hero arc with him. We would see him defy odds, get bested, act impulsively, hurt those around him. In season 2 we have another classic anti-hero arc—”can I find happiness?”—but with a twist: He’s post his show. It’s like what happens to Don Draper after the Coke commercial plays; he’s off the map a bit. And so his attempts at love and loving feel a bit more honest. He’s certainly not the character on the show who’s changed the most, but one thing has become abundantly clear: There is a heart under there. Somewhere. And it’s confused as fuck.

But to me they all seem aligned: He’s a guy who knows what one of his two biggest strengths is—vision. Joe firmly grasps where things will go, how they will move, and (perhaps dipping into his sociopathic side) how to get people there at all costs.

1280What he doesn’t realize is his managerial side. It’s more than just putting out “boring” computers or pushing papers or being the Silicon Valley’s messiah. It’s recognizing talent in people; such classic leadership. He has a brash way of pulling it out of people—his toying with Gordon, and now Ryan, speak to his lack of care towards pleasantries or even (sometimes) humanism. But he knows good ideas and strong people when he sees them.

To me, Joe is a lot like BoJack Horseman. He’s convinced, knowingly or not, that he is doomed to be a curse on himself and those who love him. And in a way he is. But only because it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy; like a child who loses a game and says it was dumb anyway. That childishness is what rears itself when Joe is at his most mysterious. Like BoJack and Don Draper before him, when he feels backed into a corner he’s cagey; he answers in riddles to try to obscure the fact that he’s just as unhappy and lost about the situation as you are. His imposter syndrome catches up with him. All of a sudden his vision is corrupted and he can’t put it back together right.

Ryan: You said freedom from fear is a right and you shouldn’t have to pay for it!

Joe: In a perfect would that would be true.

Oftentimes he is whatever the narrative needs him to be—a bully, a genius, a walking crisis of faith. But when Halt and Catch Fire is firing on all cylinders these versions of Joe align pretty clearly. He’s just got to get out of his own way.


Some of my best friends are white males

In my Twitter journeys this morning, I happened across an article from Todd VanDerWerff in which he recommends USA’s new show “Mr. Robot” as an alternative specifically to viewers who have put up with enough from “True Detective.”

“Men are forever defining themselves against some weird, hidden code of masculinity that supposedly their grandfathers had access to but they can’t seem to crack,” writes VanDerWerff. “So let me suggest something else: Literally everything fans say they want from True Detective is being done much better by a ridiculously titled show on the USA Network about a computer hacker: Mr. Robot. The show, which airs new episodes on Wednesdays and is available on Hulu, is one of the best in years about what it means to be a man in modern America.”

The article definitely got me on the hook to finally go watch “Mr. Robot” (though I didn’t read the whole thing because spoiler alert). But it also tapped into a concept that’s been crossing my mind lately: I am inherently more interested in “other” stories. And white male protagonists have to prove themselves to me.

I’m not trying to be here for tokenism, but I am tired of “unbelievability” being the basis for centering stories on white, male (and usually cis, straight, well-off, etc.). “Boyhood” won me over, but had its protagonist been a woman or a black kid coming up in Texas it would’ve been infinitely more interesting.

The double-edged sword is because stories from those who don’t see themselves reflect in the media are always inherently politicized. “Boyhood” had the comfort of not having a thesis; of meandering through its hero’s adolescent development. But a black kid? A woman? A trans person? Not so much. They’re victims of what I once heard described as the “Sailor Moon principle.”

Picture of Sailor Moon See the titular Sailor Moon, in her every day life as Usagi, is far from the elegant anime hero you’ve seen on backpacks and comics in the ’90s. She’s lazy, she loves eating, she’s unabashedly in love, and honestly? She’s kind of a ditz. If you dropped her character in an otherwise all-male cast, she would get dragged. No one wants her to be the representation of womanhood. But because her title is chock full of strong women, each their own individual with their own shortcomings and strengths, she’s a much more successful character.

In many ways I suppose this philosophy circles back a lot to my sincere belief that representation in the media matters. But it’s also just true that the inherent politicization extends far beyond the media we consume; if you don’t fit into a societal norm that area of your life is always more heavily politicized, whether you like it or not. It’s a pain to live with. But it’ll always add another degree to your story that will make it more interesting than it would’ve been with a run-of-the-mill white male protagonist. (One of my favorite Tumblr ideas I can’t find the link for is to swap out all white male protagonists for old Grandmas to make a story instantly more interesting. “Ocean’s 11,” “Goodfellas,” you name it)

Kerry Bishe as Donna Clark and Mackenzie Davis as Cameron Howe - Halt and Catch Fire _ Season 2, Episode 6 - Photo Credit: Annette Brown/AMC“Friday Night Lights” won me over by the end. But “Friday Night Lights” with women in the lead roles? More lesbian subplots? Here for it. I’m currently watching through “Halt and Catch Fire,” and though I’ve loved Lee Pace for a while, this show is a lot more interesting to me since I found out it’s (spoiler alert) setting up a finale where Cameron and Donna start their own company. As I muck through the early episodes, I’m a lot more interested in the casual subversion of “Halt and Catch Fire” if it’s leading to leaving AMC’s classic anti-hero arc behind for greener, women-led pastures.

I’m still interested in the way our culture explores and builds masculinity. Like I said, VanDerWerff makes a compelling case for “Mr. Robot,” despite it being focused on yet another white male. But I’m not as interested in giving these stories an automatic greenlight anymore.

We should all be exploring diverse voices. Especially when women and people of color can’t even use theirs without being policed.