Typecast

A few months ago, I wrote about my love for sitcoms, and how it's difficult to say whether TV shows imitate life, or vice versa. At the time, I was deeply curious about the relevance of the genre's evolution in an increasingly digital world—hence the Baudrillard reference. I felt sitcoms were the most appropriate genre for exploring hyperreality through TV as their structural elements provide deeper insights into characters in a way other genres may not.

TV shows—sitcoms or otherwise—don't necessarily create new worldviews, but are often capable of perpetuating or negating existing 'real-world' sentiments. However, it's not always been the case: overtly addressing important issues and creating representation through TV are relatively new phenomena. We would reasonably expect a sitcom aired in the 2020s to be far more progressive than one from the 2000s. Why? Society has generally become more tolerant/inclusive, and TV shows exercise the choice to extend this on-screen. 

Yes, many social issues are addressed and more groups are represented across various demographics. Yet, there remains some translucence with how neurodivergent characters are addressed—or not addressed. To be clear: not all shows need to include neurodivergent characters. 'Representation' is counterproductive if it enables problematic stereotypes.

I first noticed this in The Big Bang Theory (TBBT), where Sheldon Cooper portrays the archetypal 'autistic savant' in numerous ways. To list a few: exceptional memory and recall; advanced math and physics abilities (savantism); difficulty understanding sarcasm or humor; struggles with empathy and emotional cues; discomfort with physical contact; inflexibility with change. I feel the show misses the mark in two ways. 

First, it frames a character around a medley of (outdated) autistic stereotypes without addressing a diagnosis. Instead, he's frequently mocked by others and claims "he's not crazy" as his mother "had him tested. The harmful notion here being demonstrating certain (involuntary) neurodivergent behaviours is synonymous with strangeness. Second, it overlooks a clear opportunity to address autism and promote awareness. It's simply near impossible to suggest that none of the characters—academics at the world's leading universities—would have never at least suspected Sheldon to be autistic, despite being embellished in a hodgepodge of autistic stereotypes. 

Instead, Sheldon's eventual adjustment is framed as mere character development rather than an autistic adult navigating the difficulties of adulthood. It's rather ironic how the show's creators utilised his unique mannerisms for comedic fodder whilst downplaying the need to 'pathologise' characters. 

This pales in comparison to The Good Doctor (TGD), where protagonist Dr. Shaun Murphy's savantism is portrayed alongside difficulties with communication, emotional expression, and social norms commonplace with autistic individuals. Although TGD is heavily criticised for enabling certain stereotypes, the creators deserve some credit for a) wanting to highlight the life of someone with autism in a tough job and b) at least disclosing the protagonist's diagnosis openly and early on.

For what it's worth, both shows began ten years apart, and perhaps shouldn't be judged by the same standards. After all, neurodiversity awareness is only relatively new to mainstream cultural discourse. That being said, TBBT's last episode aired in 2019, and the show's creators could have at least admitted their blind-spot after the fact (had they deemed it important). The criticisms towards TGD I've encountered often claim Murphy's character doesn't reflect authentic autistic experiences. This in itself inherently—and falsely—suggests the existence of an archetypal autistic which simply doesn't exist. It's wholly possible likely some people resonated with aspects of Shaun Murphy's character less/more than others.

I wonder: is it better or worse to transparently address a character's diagnosis? I suppose it depends on the show creator's aims. The simplest way would be to not borrow autistic stereotypes for no reason, or even worse, for ulterior motives. If absolutely needed, shows could follow TGD's approach in seeking autism advocates as consultants with lived insight.

Alternatively, there are a multitude of ways an autism or ADHD diagnosis could be addressed subtly in a way which doesn't reconfigure an entire character. If anything, doing so may be the most optimal approach—by reinforcing the positive message that these diagnoses illuminate, rather than define, us. 

I thought to write this as I'm catching up on Abbott Elementary, and there's a well-circulated theory that Gregory Eddie's character may be autistic. This is unsurprising as he exhibits some less common, but real all the same, traits of autism which don't quite align with mainstream media portrayals. Some examples: his emotional reserve, strong moral compass, restrictive food preferences, sensory sensitivity, and deeply observant nature. Lately, though, these traits seem a bit more pronounced than before.

On one hand, perhaps these traits are simply elements of the character's personality—for example, his preference for routine can be explained by his military upbringing. On the other hand, perhaps the writers are paving the way for an episode about a potential diagnosis—after all, Abbott Elementary regularly touches on important social issues. In either case, these existing subtleties add depth to his character while maintaining ambiguity about any diagnosis. However, should the latter happen, this would be a major representation win especially due to the prevalent underdiagnosis amongst Black adults. 

Autism, like many other conditions under the neurodivergent umbrella, has remained misunderstood for far too long. Given the increasing awareness and discourse surrounding neurodiversity—underscored by rising diagnoses—I suppose we have a choice between better understanding neurotypes or furthering outdated stereotypes. On the basis that media mirrors our existing worldviews, I only hope we make the right choice, and I hope our TV shows are better off as a result.

Last Laugh

I've been watching sitcoms for as long as I can remember. I watched Disney Channel classics such as Suite Life and Wizards very early on, before discovering the likes of The Big Bang Theory and Brooklyn Nine-Nine much later on.

As I've known them, sitcoms include: ~20 minute episodes, an ensemble cast (each with unique personality traits), and relatively lighthearted subject matter with minimal continuity. Interestingly, the 'sit' in sitcom stands for 'situational', with the plotlines often revolving around the recurring settings.

I'm almost always watching one sitcom or the other–oftentimes rewatching one as I wait for another to be released. The interesting thing about watching (or rewatching) sitcoms from multiple generations has been noticing the evolution of the sitcom as a genre itself. More than anything else, I believe the evolution of sitcoms may actualise Oscar Wilde's assertion that "life imitates art far more than art imitates life."

The evolution over the last three decades can be explained in part by Baudrillard's "simulacra," which represents a hyperreality where the distinction between real and artificial has collapsed. In the first stage, a sign or image reflects a basic reality accurately. In the second, the image begins to distort or mask that reality. The third stage creates an image that pretends to be a faithful copy but is entirely detached from any real reference. Finally, in the fourth stage, the simulacrum becomes pure simulation–it no longer refers to any real thing and exists entirely on its own, creating a version of reality that feels real, even when it isn't. The simulacra/simulation framework doesn't completely capture the sitcom's progression, but it provides a good basis to work from. The four stages, as originally conceived by Baudrillard, may better align with ongoing discourse on media & journalism and politics.

Nonetheless, early sitcoms in the late-90s to early-00s like Friends and That '70s Show align well with Baudrillard's first stage. The shows are evidently constructed, with artificially engineered interior design and live-studio laugh tracks which amplified their fictionality. The artifice was overt, but viewers willingly accepted it as a reflection of reality. The characters felt like people you might know, and the social dynamics mirrored the norms of the time.

Shows like HIMYM and Two and a Half Men followed shortly after in the mid-00s to mid-10s, actualising a hybrid between the first and second stages. These shows were slightly more layered, and attempted to blur the boundary between fiction and reality through emotional depth and storytelling complexity. Yet, they still relied heavily on sitcom conventions—especially the laugh track—to maintain the required illusory aspects. The situational comedy masked a constructed narrative which maintained its artificiality but still aimed to feel grounded.

However, this era also marked a transitional period which aligns with Baudrillard's third stage. The Office and Parks and Recreation emerged, and challenged the notion of sitcoms revolving around friends and/or family through the 'mockumentary' style. By using the aforementioned sitcom-esque elements, these shows offered a lens into a reality that, whilst previously not attached to the genre, is one all too familiar – the workplace. The absence of the laugh track, combined with the shift in settings and the documentary style, certainly heightened the sense of reality. The comedy was still there, but so was the awkwardness, the silence, and the mundane. Hence, the shows and their characters are deemed more 'relatable' and the distinction between real and simulated faded even further. The mid-2010s marked another revolutionary period for sitcoms, and what I would class a 'golden age' for the genre were one to ever exist.

These days, contemporary shows are still classed as sitcoms although without many of the core characteristics that previously defined the genre. One of the most crucial elements now missing is the 'filler episode' which provides greater context, character depth, through extended situational storytelling. Now, most sitcoms are rather 'flat' and straightforward in a way void of a once lighthearted genre–Only Murders in the Building comes to mind here.

Sitcoms aren't defined merely by recurring settings or comedic writing alone, but a combination of multiple interwoven elements. Although not the case with all shows, we're witnessing a blurring of genres where shows like Hacks and Shrinking adopt the length and emotional depth and satirism of hyperrealistic dramas like Severance. These newer shows don't necessarily reflect or distort reality in the way earlier sitcoms did, but aren't necessarily grounded in any particular social reality either.

I agree that certain comedic tropes which were once popular in the 1990s–2000s are misaligned with contemporary subject matter, conceptions of reality and consumption patterns. However, I worry the age of the sitcom, which once served as a much-needed lighthearted form of escapism, is slowly losing the qualities that made it distinct in the first place.