Beyond Likeability: Exploring the Power of Sympathetic Characters on Screen
We often talk about “likable” characters in film, but there’s a deeper, more nuanced quality I find far more compelling: sympathy. It's not about whether we enjoy a character; it's about whether we understand them, feel for them, and connect with their struggles – even when they make questionable choices. A sympathetic character invites us into their world, allowing us to grapple with complex emotions alongside them. And that, my friends, is where the real magic happens.
Think about Lackawanna Blues. It’s not a film full of flawless heroes. The characters are messy, flawed, and often make mistakes. But director Wayne Wang masterfully allows us access to their inner lives, revealing the motivations behind their actions – the hopes, fears, and disappointments that shape them. We might not always agree with what they do, but we understand why. That’s sympathy in action. It's a far cry from simply rooting for someone; it's about recognizing our shared humanity within them.
This isn't a new concept, of course. Consider the recent film Blitz, set during WWII. George is a young boy desperate to return to his family amidst constant bombing raids. He’s stubborn and resistant, but we sympathize with his longing, his fear, and the sheer disorientation of being ripped from everything familiar. It's not about him being "good"; it's about understanding the profound emotional toll of war on a child.
What I find particularly fascinating is how filmmakers are using sympathy to explore challenging subjects. Enigma, for example, doesn’t ask us to simply “like” April Ashley and Amanda Lear. It presents their divergent approaches to navigating public perception and gender identity with empathy, allowing us to consider the complexities of self-expression and societal pressure. It's a film that encourages understanding rather than judgment – a powerful demonstration of sympathetic storytelling.
Even lighter fare can benefit from this approach. Suze, for instance, uses humor to soften the edges of its characters’ flaws, ultimately revealing their vulnerabilities and earning our compassion. It reminds us that even seemingly tough exteriors often mask deep insecurities and a yearning for connection. And in The Paradise of Thongkam, we witness a man stripped bare by grief and betrayal, yet driven by an unwavering determination – a portrait of resilience built on profound sympathy from the audience.
Ultimately, sympathetic characters aren't about avoiding conflict or portraying perfection. They’re about offering us a window into the human condition, reminding us that even in our darkest moments, we are all deserving of understanding and grace. It's a powerful tool for filmmakers, and a rewarding experience for viewers willing to look beyond simple likeability.
