The Anti-Hero

These years, are the years of the Anti-Hero. The anti-hero in literature and film is someone who has a dark and dusky personality, always striving for imperfection. Because perfection, especially of the spotless, irritating kind, no longer appeals to everyone. In short, we want flaws.
Flaws are good. Flaws are interesting. Flaws heighten the interest and curiosity of the viewers and humanize the individual. Audiences are eager to see quirks, imperfections, deficiencies, blemishes and limitations… Anything to spice up the characters otherwise immaculate image and make them seem more real and fleshy. Characters, big or small, in literature or film, are merely sketched out, giving us an idea about their appearance and their demeanor. But their words and actions and the resulting consequences reveal their true personalities and idiosyncrasies and take the story further.
One of the biggest examples being Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes.
Holmes is crime-fiction’s favourite detective. He is famous for his frosty demeanor, arrogance, indifference to friendship or any interpersonal relationships, occasional drug-use, resolution to bend or break the law during a pending investigation coupled with unerring precision and vivid attention to miniscule details that’d be missed by ordinary mortals, an ability to discern order in chaos, and application of induction as logical reasoning which he mistakenly calls ’deduction’ (It took me two painful years of learning Logic at college to fully understand what that really was).
In recent times, Holmes was portrayed by Robert Downey Jr. in Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes, where he is exhibited as a very sarcastic 19th Century James Bond. Another noteworthy portrayal is by Benedict Cumberbatch (Doesn’t he have the coolest name?) in BBC series ‘Sherlock’, a recounting of Holmes cases in modern-day London. No offence to Mr. Downey Jr, but I do prefer Cumberbatch’s performance. Though both have been written in a way that they’ve maintained an admirable fidelity to the original.
Imagine Holmes being a warm, pleasant, sprightly young man, the kind that would make a good neighbor, dutifully lending you some sugar or salt when you need it. Ruins the effect doesn’t it?
Drawing vital DNA from Holmes is Dr. House MD, the Ebenezer Scrooge of the medical world. A cynical, sardonic, misanthropic doctor who unreservedly mocks people around him, and yet displays an exceptional ability to diagnose and treat cases while other doctors are left scratching their heads. He despises interacting with patients, instead focuses on solving medical enigmas before him and remains hell-bent on dwelling in his own misery.
They’ve rightly shown a pertinacious attitude of House that mirrors that of Holmes: their dedication to what they do, and the fact that they don’t give a hoot of what anyone thinks of them.
Dexter Morgan is another eminent character. Loving husband and father and a skilled blood spatter analyst by day. Serial killer by night. He conforms to a strict code when killing, choosing to kill only those who have a criminal record. ‘Dexter’ has a number of humorous moments to diffuse the tensions in a crime-heavy world. Outwardly, he appears as an amiable and ordinary law- abider, nose clean and head under water. When the longing to kill becomes overpowering while his Dark Passenger steers the wheel What makes it so engaging is to see how he expertly maintains the bulwark he’s built around him and at the same time can feign human emotions and keep his day job intact, armed with just an expeditious mind and a thorough knowledge of the human body. You can say that Dexter’s the murderer, but he’s a victim too. Without his Dark Passenger, most of us would have nothing to watch at 10 pm on Star World.
My favourite protagonist on television remains Dr Frasier Crane, Seattle’s eminent psychologist with his very own radio show, inhabiting an interesting world with amusing problems and a cast of kooky characters. Frasier, portrayed by Kelsey Grammer, is the Webster’s Dictionary definition of ‘snob’. Pompous, arrogant, eager to please, greedy for popularity, proud of being the true intellectual bad-ass that he is, he can quote Shakespeare to Tennyson to Kipling to O Henry from right off the top of his head. At one point, he says, “Let me be the Virgil to your Dante”, drawing a blank look from the person sitting opposite him. He’s terribly fond of the art, literature and music and appears to be an opera-junkie. His grandiose and dramatic manner is the cause for many of his woes and a myriad of embarrassing and complicated scenarios.
He’s shown also to have a very good heart, always wanting to help people with their problems and still believing in the goodness of mankind. Expertly solving everyone else’s trials and tribulations and yet at a loss when it comes to his own. You can’t really say that he’s got any obvious dark side but there is a sharp contrast in his personality.
And this doesn’t just apply to the world of fiction. We wouldn’t be even half as drawn to each other, if it weren’t for our peculiarities. We, as an audience and as readers, may never commit the same atrocities that the various Anti-Heroes commit because we know they take place in a fictitious world. We hold them at an arm’s length as we watch from the sidelines.
Marcus Aurelius says it best:”Conceal a flaw and the world will imagine the worst.”