Santana Lopez and What Lies Beneath: Part 2

SANTANA AND THE CHEERIOS

For the majority of her time on Glee, Santana Lopez has been a Cheerio.   In fact, it took us thirty-two episodes to see Santana out of her uniform, and in plainclothes.  But despite this, we don’t really have a clear picture of what Santana feels towards the Cheerios and her place among them. 

The Cheerios Uniform means something.  It is not just any old school uniform.  Sue Sylvester’s cheerleaders wear their uniforms every day, as a symbol of their status, broadcasting to the plebeians of McKinley that they indeed have the power bestowed to them by success and popularity and Sue herself.  And Santana is introduced to us as one of them, as someone who values that.  She is a sycophant of both Quinn Fabray and Sue Sylvester, hiding comfortably behind three layers of protection from even being called a loser, let alone actually being one.

But as time has worn on, it’s become clear that Santana Lopez is no one’s minion.  Her relationships with both Sue and Quinn have turned rather antagonistic, perhaps at the hand of Santana rebelling against what it means to be second-in-command.

For as much as Santana behaves as a Top Dog, it’s amongst the Cheerios where she is never quite the top of the pyramid.  Sue is God, Quinn is Queen, and Santana is still the Jester.  She is nothing more than a Boob Joke to Sue now, and Quinn ratted her out, betraying her trust and sending her to the bottom of the pyramid.  Santana is on the outs with her erstwhile leaders, and we’re left wondering how exactly she feels about it.  (More on Santana and Quinn in a future part, fear not.)

From Day 1, we were to assume that Quinn, Santana, and Brittany operated as something of a unit.  They were packaged up and delivered to us as a maligned trinity, three mean girls who had something to gain from destroying the Glee Club.  But since then, the contingent has splintered, and we’re left mostly in the dark about the real relationship between the three girls, having never really known their true opinions about being a Cheerio in the first place.

In “The Sue Sylvester Bowl Shuffle,” all three Glee Cheerios gave up Glee Club by the end of the episode - but they were denied, by the writers, the opportunity to make their own decisions.  They were instead convinced by Finn, which weakens their choices and leaves us wondering about their uninfluenced emotions.  In the bathroom scene, Quinn says she’s torn, and then Santana says she’s not.  That’s all we got, and the fact of the matter is that’s not terribly indicative of any clear-cut feelings about Glee vs. Cheerios.  The writers behaved as though the girls would inherently choose Cheerios in the frame that they are malignant and that the Cheerio Squad is dominant in its villainy - not because cheerleading could provide the trio with security and success, or the possibility of university scholarships, or even that it could maybe - gasp! - make them happy.

It has become painfully clear that Glee’s writers give little respect to the Cheerios as a valid extracurricular at McKinley High, largely because they’re too busy bogging down Sue Sylvester and her teenage associates with the veneer of malefaction.  What’s worse about this is that the show has deliberately made an effort to humanize Sue, Santana, and Quinn (Brittany was never terribly nefarious to begin with) and yet they often forget those instances and continue to frequently and ignorantly paint the girls in a single, two-dimensional layer of bitch and villainy.

“The Sue Sylvester Bowl Shuffle” presented the notion that the Cheerio Gleeks had to choose between their two extracurriculars, and simultaneously had a built-in opportunity to therefore let us understand the Cheerios’ feelings about their participation on the squad.  We actually have enough reason to believe that all three, including Santana, would have just cause for choosing Glee Club on their own - the first time around.  But instead, the show denied them this opportunity, operating solely on the assumption that Quinn might be torn, but Santana wouldn’t be (clearly forgetting that Glee Club is the best part of Santana’s day) and Brittany is always just Brittany.  And then in the end they made their decision because Mr. Quarterback breezed through with his Ethos and inspired them to Do The Right Thing.  Oh, missed opportunities and ignored potential - not to mention the faintest, stomach-turning whiff of sexism.

Of course, the result of that plotline is what is perhaps most interesting about Santana’s relationship to the Cheerios: examining how Santana behaves now that she is not a Cheerio.  That definition, the one label that gave her power in the halls of McKinley High, is gone.  Santana no longer wears the impervious red and white uniform, and we are finally afforded the opportunity to see who she really is: how she dresses, how she fixes her hair, how she interacts with her peers, what her bedroom looks like - it’s no accident that by having Santana shed that external armor, the writers are now allowing the audience to see a glimpse of her true self.

At the same time, Santana’s post-Cheerio existence lends itself to the interpretation that she is having something of an identity crisis.  The show is frankly not quite connecting this concept to Santana’s status as an ex-Cheerio, but I think the evidence and timing is strong enough to draw the conclusion that perhaps Santana is re-evaluating her identity and sense of self without that uniform.

Since “The Sue Sylvester Bowl Shuffle,” Santana has had her guard down and demonstrated a full range of emotions in a multitude of fairly surprising scenarios - sure, she schemes easily as usual, but she’s also flown into hysterics at the drop of a hat (or alcohol), struck up a partnership with Sam, seemed to twice fangirl a performing Rachel Berry, penned a jazz number (with Tina!) about her boyfriend’s fish face, and dropped her heart in the middle of the McKinley Hallway in hopes that Brittany would catch it. 

Of course, the last of those examples is perhaps the headlining reason to believe that Santana, without her Cheerios uniform defining her, would be re-examining herself and her identity.  It’s no coincidence that the show has Santana jump-starting hers and Brittany’s Real Feelings Love Story when they’re off the Cheerios, allowed to dress how they want to and be who they want to within the freeing safe space that is Glee Club - but it’s also not clearly demonstrated onscreen.  And to those crying foul about Santana’s sudden qualms about her sexual identity: perhaps if the writers connected the idea that she feels vulnerable without her Cheerios uniform to the notion that she’s scared of confronting her sexuality, the development wouldn’t seem so jarringly uncharacteristic.

Regardless, it’s unclear what Santana’s future with the Cheerios will be - she currently shows no signs towards returning to the club, especially not while Sue continues to barrage her with boob jokes, and with the prospect of a sexuality-centered storyline on the horizon.  But even with a cheerleading-free future, the fact of the matter is that we don’t quite know exactly what Santana previously felt about that sphere of her life, in any real and tangible way, for those thirty-two episodes where cheerleading was omnipresent in Santana’s existence.

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MASTER POST: SANTANA LOPEZ AND WHAT LIES BENEATH

PART ONE: SANTANA'S ROLE ON THE SHOW

PART TWO: SANTANA AND THE CHEERIOS

PART THREE: SANTANA AND RELATIONSHIPS

PART FOUR: SANTANA AND BITCHINESS

PART FIVE: SANTANA, VULNERABILITY, AND LOVE

PART SIX: SANTANA AND BRITTANY

PART SEVEN: SANTANA'S FUTURE PATH

Santana Lopez and What Lies Beneath: Part 1

SANTANA'S ROLE ON THE SHOW

It’s difficult to argue that the character who has progressed the most, from the Pilot to “Original Song,” could be anyone other than Santana Lopez.  And I don’t necessarily mean in character arc - although you could make an argument for that - but rather, in the function and purpose of character.  Santana Lopez has successfully moved from a background player, good for an off-the-cuff laugh and a standby for villainy, to a full-fledged, three-dimensional fixture, with hopes and fears, and a very real presence on the center stage of what Glee presents to us every Tuesday night.

We first met Santana Lopez in the Pilot - along with most of our merry band of characters - but she was barely an entity on our screens, a sycophant of Quinn Fabray, who existed purely to make snide remarks and antagonize Our Heroes.  Historically speaking, this has been the sole function of Santana.  She jibes and sneers, for two purposes: either for comedy, bringing snark and vinegar to contrast with the schmaltz of the underdogs on their journey, or for villainy, providing obstacles in bitchiness for the underdogs to overcome.

In short: Santana’s function on Glee has largely been two-dimensional - effective, but two-dimensional.  She was a background character, riding two-by-two with Brittany in a little side car to the show itself, acting as the jesters who are meant to entertain us while we’re occupied with the problems of the Royal Court. 

But there are two seminal moments in Glee’s history where the showrunners chose to make Santana a main character - or at least, a developed character with more than just one dimension.  And it’s because of these two moments that I refuse to accept Santana’s role on the show as simply a supporting character and nothing more.

The first of these moments is in “Sectionals.”  As the first 13 episodes came to a close, Santana shed her identity as a villain, admitting to her peers that Glee Club is the best part of her day.  It’s a lovely little confession, and an intelligent choice for the writers to make - because it does move Santana out of Unlikeable Territory and into someone the audience wants to relate to, and understand.  It’s this moment that presents us with the notion that Santana belongs in the Glee Club, just like any of the other kids - that she is not a snake amongst underdogs, but also an underdog herself. 

If the show had been canceled after the first 13, you could argue that Santana’s arc would have been complete - she became an embedded part of the Glee Club, and admitted it.  Mission accomplished.  But of course, the show continued after that moment, and there was more on the horizon for Ms. Lopez.

The Back 9 did little to develop Santana as a character, although we were treated to more screentime in general, and her first turns as a soloist.  But she still functioned primarily in scheming and bitchery, with Brittany by her side, as she meddled in others’ storylines. 

But then Season 2 began.  And the second moment, the key moment, where the writers chose to make Santana Lopez more happened in “Audition.”  And that, ladies and gentleman, is Santana’s Summer Surgery.  Now, what’s unfortunate is that this event has only paid off in a league of tasteless barbs from Sue, but the root of the situation is a choice that the writers made, and need to follow through on.  Because Santana Lopez, in “Audition,” became a 17-year-old girl who got breast implants. 

The crux of the issue is that prior to that moment, Santana was not a character who seemed like she would spring for that kind of surgery.  In fact, when “Audition” aired, I cried foul.  Based on what the show presented us about Santana Lopez, she had far too much self-confidence - swagger, even, to make a boob job even remotely believable.  But the writers went there, and backed it up with the idea that Santana just wanted people to notice her.

And this was the final brick laid to make Santana a very real, very three-dimensional character to be taken seriously on this show.  Because what does it say when the (seemingly) most self-confident character gets breast implants so that people will notice her more?  This isn’t rhetorical - it says that Santana Lopez, again, is just like anybody else in that Glee Club.  Buried deep underneath all that snark is someone who looks at herself and doesn’t always like what she sees.  Who just wants people to appreciate her.  Who doesn’t know if she’s good enough.

Santana Lopez not only belongs in Glee Club, but she belongs on Glee, the show, as a character who is sometimes insecure and sometimes misguided, but who isn’t as much of a Top Dog as she lets on.  The true strengths of Santana as a three-dimensional character lie in her insecurities, in her vulnerabilities - in the things that therefore make her a part of the Glee message as a whole.

Since “Audition,” the writers have tried to bring Santana’s journey to the forefront, with varying amounts of success and failure.  There was an inherent problem, though, in the wake of Santana’s shift to a character with onscreen depth: the writers were still wielding her in the same way she always had been wielded.  Santana’s Season 2 function, barring “Duets” and “Sexy,” has still manifested itself in accessory to others’ storylines.  She is brought down by Quinn in her pursuit of Head Cheerio.  She is used to meddle in Finn and Rachel’s complicated romance.  She quits the Cheerios not because we really know she wants to, but because Finn swoops in and convinces her.  She interferes with the Finn and Quinn romance and uses her immunity to mono in order to break up Sam and Quinn.

Santana, while having the hallmarks of a fully-fledged character, has not been treated as such in Season 2.  And yet, the writers kept dancing around development through random reaction shots and a few scenes here and there that made us all tilt our heads at the television and say, “What’s going on with Santana?”  We had no idea.  Was she in love with Finn?  Was she in love with Brittany?  Was she just lonely?  Was she in some sort of gay panic?  Was she jealous of Quinn, or Rachel?  Evidence pointed in all directions, because her purpose was always secondary in favor of other characters.

Consider as well that we’ve seen Santana cry more in Season 2 than ever before - but until “Sexy,” every single instance was used in favor of comedy.  We were not allowed to feel sympathetic for Santana until “Sexy” - because we weren’t let inside Santana’s head until “Sexy.”  Sure, we got Santana narration in “Silly Love Songs,” but all she did was put on a nurse’s outfit (why, again?) and swipe a wrecking ball through Sam and Quinn’s relationship with a few well-placed kisses.  Santana was, as usual, a device.

But for the drought of understanding that has plagued Santana’s character since Day 1, we were inundated with a flood of insight in “Sexy,” for better or for worse.  It seems, in the wake of this revelation, Santana’s role on the show can only increase as she bears the weight of a substantial and impacting storyline.  And, as a viewer, to know that this increasingly prominent character started out with only a sneer and an eyeroll is hugely rewarding. 

It is this journey from background to forefront that makes Santana Lopez’s character remarkable, regardless of developmental consistency along the way.  No matter what, Santana is now as much a part of the Glee message as any other character - perhaps more so - and is finally reaping the benefits of empathy as a fixture in the show’s pantheon of relatable teens.  Santana may still operate as a jester, but she is also now allowed, as a character, to shed her proverbial clown suit and show the world what lies beneath.  That is the true function of a three-dimensional character - and with one as fascinating as Santana, can be, and should be, developed compellingly in rewarding storylines.

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MASTER POST: SANTANA LOPEZ AND WHAT LIES BENEATH

PART ONE: SANTANA'S ROLE ON THE SHOW

PART TWO: SANTANA AND THE CHEERIOS

PART THREE: SANTANA AND RELATIONSHIPS

PART FOUR: SANTANA AND BITCHINESS

PART FIVE: SANTANA, VULNERABILITY, AND LOVE

PART SIX: SANTANA AND BRITTANY

PART SEVEN: SANTANA'S FUTURE PATH

Santana Lopez and What Lies Beneath: The Kickoff

Well, ladies and gentlemen, we have seven days left before Glee returns with new episodes.  What better way to make those seven days go faster than to do a character week!  Now, I’ve been getting a lot of requests for these, and I assure you - I will get around to doing something for every character (it may not be a whole week’s worth, but I’ll try to make it as exhaustive as possible). 

But this week, the focus is going to be none other than the Glee Club’s self-proclaimed hilarious truth-teller: Santana Lopez.  Santana Week will probably be more in-depth than Rachel Week simply because there’s less screentime to mine through - so if you’re a fan of the character, celebrate!  I know the blog’s been kind of a deserted mess lately, but we’re on the up-and-up!  Get ready for six whole days of non-stop Santana!

(Seriously, those hideous bandwidth exceeded scars will be gone soon.  Laziness shan't prevail!)

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MASTER POST: SANTANA LOPEZ AND WHAT LIES BENEATH

PART ONE: SANTANA'S ROLE ON THE SHOW

PART TWO: SANTANA AND THE CHEERIOS

PART THREE: SANTANA AND RELATIONSHIPS

PART FOUR: SANTANA AND BITCHINESS

PART FIVE: SANTANA, VULNERABILITY, AND LOVE

PART SIX: SANTANA AND BRITTANY

PART SEVEN: SANTANA'S FUTURE PATH

Rachel Berry and the Spotlight: Part Seven

RACHEL, HER DREAMS, AND HER FUTURE

 

Without a doubt, Rachel Berry is the character with the biggest dreams to leave Lima, Ohio behind.  She's the Glee Club's leader, the one that steals the show, saves the show, and keeps the show going when the curtain threatens to fall on our ragtag choir misfits.  She is a self-proclaimed gold star, and we are not inclined to argue with that title at all.  Rachel Berry is a force.  She knows what she wants, and she knows how to get it.  She latches onto goals with reckless determination, and won't stop until she sees them through to completion.

And, based on the notion that she has been repeatedly discouraged with put-downs, insults, and verbal abuse, it therefore needs to be Rachel Berry that has the brightest glimmer of success awaiting her post-high school.  Rachel, yet again, represents Glee both as a club and as the show’s central message, and if her last episode depicts her in any way other than standing on the brink of opportunity, with a foot on the path to success, then the point of the show is ruined.  Rachel Berry is a dreamer, with the ambition and determination of someone willing to put in the hard work to make it happen.  If the show doesn’t fulfill that, then they’ve missed their pro-underdog message entirely.

 That being said, Glee specifically and intelligently set up a second goal for Rachel’s character: that she be accepted, and feel a sense of belonging with the Glee Club.  And it’s the negotiation of these two goals that cause friction in Rachel’s arc, and make us wonder what her future will be, or can be.

 Can the writers achieve both goals by the end of the series?  Can Rachel Berry graduate with a bright future in front her, and friends on either side as she walks across the stage?  We all certainly hope so.

 Because of this idealization, running these two goals side-by-side, we have another example of Rachel Berry as a combination of two extreme opposites, and the benefits and shortcomings thereof.  Keeping the progression of these two arcs in balance, and paced properly, is no small task, and even if the writers take a few missteps here or there, they largely return to the original constructs in episodes like “Original Song.”

So what should we expect from Rachel Berry through the rest of Season 2 and onward?  Well, it’s difficult to say for certain, but hopefully the writers will continue to keep Rachel’s characterization true to her original intent on the show - maintaining her identity, but at the same time propelling her forward through her arc.  Rachel Berry is not only in the spotlight as a main character and frequent soloist, but also in that she is an isolated character subject to a substantial amount of scrutiny by critics both within the show and those watching at home.  She should be moved gently out of this narrative isolation and into acceptance and belonging, as a part of something special - with as little erosion to her identity as possible.  She is a fixture on Glee, a solid anchor to the show’s emotional and tonal landscape, and when Rachel’s portrayal loses its footing, the entire show - and the audience - does as well.

 I feel confident that by the end of the show, we will see Rachel Berry with friends, and with her dreams right in front of her - but like with many things on Glee, will we hit all the right steps along the way?  "Development" is not a mainstay of the writers' efforts.  If nothing else, this exploration has proven that the characterization of Rachel depends on equilibrium, between the polarities in her personality, and the ways which she is manifested onscreen as both a representation as well as within the narrative.  She is a hugely important character in terms of her role on the show and in the significance that Glee has had in mainstream pop culture and as well in television history.  These are very large character commitments to uphold.  There is no Glee without Rachel Berry, and there is no Rachel Berry without the promise of dreams fulfilled.  And with any luck, this is the future of our girl.

 And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes Rachel Berry Week.  Thanks for reading!  Stay tuned - the goal is to try and squeeze in another Character Week before Glee returns from hiatus...

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MASTER POST: RACHEL BERRY AND THE SPOTLIGHT

PART ONE: RACHEL AS A MAIN CHARACTER

PART TWO: RACHEL, THE GLEE CLUB, AND BELONGING

PART THREE: RACHEL, LIKEABILITY, AND DICHOTOMY

PART FOUR: RACHEL IN LOVE

PART FIVE: RACHEL, SHELBY, AND THE CONCEPT OF FAMILY

PART SIX: RACHEL, SELF, AND OTHERS

PART SEVEN: RACHEL, HER DREAMS, AND HER FUTURE

Rachel Berry and the Spotlight: Part Six

RACHEL, SELF, AND OTHERS

We’ve established previously that the purpose of Rachel’s arc is to move her out of isolation and embed her genuinely in a group that appreciates her for herself and not just her singing voice.  But the inherent friction in that arc is that Rachel must negotiate, as a character, between herself, and others.  What does society expect for Rachel and her behavior?  What does Mr. Schuester and the Glee Club?  How does Rachel’s natural drive and ambition interact with external forces?

It’s perhaps this aspect of Rachel Berry’s existence that is the most fascinating and problematic to explore.  How far into social acceptance and popularity can the writers push Rachel before she starts to lose her identity?  Much of what alienates Rachel from her peers contributes to why she’s such a remarkable character, and if she strays too far from herself to please others and gain friendships, does she lose a part of what makes her great?

It is because of this that there are so many shots of Rachel staring at herself in a mirror.  Yes, the character is a bit self-absorbed, and she does look at herself singing into her hairbrush in “Showmance,” “Mash-Up,” and “Silly Love Songs.”  But all in all, the repeated use of mirror shots is a way for this isolated character to study herself, and question her own identity in comparison to others.  She stares herself down in “Mattress,” speaking about how other people will only disappoint her high expectations.  She studies her reflection in “The Power of Madonna,” wondering if she’s ready to lose her virginity to Jesse St. James because he wants her to.  She eyes herself in the mirror in “Hairography,” subjecting herself to Kurt’s makeover because she wants to make herself desirable to Finn.  She cries in the bathroom mirrors, in “The Rhodes Not Taken” and in “Ballad,” as she confronts truths about herself delivered by women who are cautionary tales, representations of what Rachel could become after years of low self-esteem and wasted talent.

Rachel Berry looks at herself in the mirror not to see how great her reflection is, but to look at who she truly is and negotiate the external forces affecting her sense of self - for better or for worse.  Every big decision she makes on the show speaks to the idea that Rachel must determine which choices are good for her character growth, and which choices will take away from her personality in favor of others’ approval.  This deals additionally to the dichotomy of Rachel being selfish and yet also selfless.  What can she give to others without taking away from herself?

Season 2 for Rachel Berry has spoken heavily to the issue of her identity.  After the character issues in “Audition,” Rachel was relegated primarily to mopey storylines with Finn, firstly in the issues of their relationship and then in the aftermath of their breakup.  Fingers pointed all season long at the notion that the real Rachel Berry was gone from our screens, the spark and gumption of Season 1 Rachel buried under a lot of emotional dependence and low self-worth.  But it begs the question: was this an error in writing, or an intended effect of her relationship with Finn and the negative feedback from Mr. Schuester and her peers?

It’s difficult to say, especially considering that the idea that Rachel needed to have a “comeback” was written into the show.  Either the writers realized they goofed, or it was intentional that Rachel was a bit adrift in her characterization.  Either way, I’m not sure I agree with the decision to move Rachel away from her usual behavior.  Doing so without consequence implies that Rachel is losing herself in pursuit of being a part of something special - or worse, in pursuit of being in a relationship, and that sends the wrong message entirely. 

Furthermore, Rachel’s manifestation of a comeback, in “Comeback,” was in a way that had nothing to do with Rachel’s original appeal anyways - when was Rachel ever a trendsetter?  Rachel as a character should not “come back” in the form of a fashion trend, and the idea that Rachel believed that she should disconnected us from empathizing with her, and just made us feel terrible when the result was that Brittany could set a trend with Rachel’s clothes, but Rachel couldn’t.  The message in that was that there’s nothing’s wrong with Rachel’s clothes - it’s Rachel that’s the problem, and that’s heartbreaking.

No, instead of Rachel trying to set trends with her wardrobe, we need to see her embracing the qualities that made her unique and beloved when we first met her, and patiently wait for others to do the same.  Rachel Berry deserves to be valued as a person, and she absolutely should not change who she is in order to achieve that. 

That being said, the struggle to stay true to herself and conform to others’ standards should play out in Rachel’s existence.  She should be negotiating the differences between herself and others, and what she’s willing to compromise - that makes her an interesting character, keeping her relatable, and helping to ground her as self-aware despite her ambition.  But, as with many things in Rachel’s character, there is a delicate balance that the writers must find in order for the execution to be successful.

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MASTER POST: RACHEL BERRY AND THE SPOTLIGHT

PART ONE: RACHEL AS A MAIN CHARACTER

PART TWO: RACHEL, THE GLEE CLUB, AND BELONGING

PART THREE: RACHEL, LIKEABILITY, AND DICHOTOMY

PART FOUR: RACHEL IN LOVE

PART FIVE: RACHEL, SHELBY, AND THE CONCEPT OF FAMILY

PART SIX: RACHEL, SELF, AND OTHERS

PART SEVEN: RACHEL, HER DREAMS, AND HER FUTURE

Rachel Berry and the Spotlight: Part Five

RACHEL, SHELBY, AND THE CONCEPT OF FAMILY

It’s not often on Glee that we are introduced to the characters’ families.  There are a few exceptions, sure - primarily with Kurt and the relationship with his father, Finn’s dynamic with his mother, and Quinn’s boomerang relationship with her own parents.  But for the most part, the Glee clubbers are orphans for the purpose of the narrative - kids whose parents are mentioned offhand, but never really seen. 

Rachel, however, belongs to both these groups.  Technically, she has had a major storyline devoted to her family; and yet we find that, much in the way that Rachel lacks any functional friends, she is also without functional family.  Even though her dads are mentioned in Rachel’s character introduction in the Pilot, we have yet to meet the Fathers Berry, and they are therefore absent from Rachel’s sphere as we know it.

Shelby Corcoran burst onto the scene in the Back 9, and effectively upended Rachel’s existence.  Coach of the rival team, mentor to Rachel’s maybe-spying-maybe-not boyfriend, makeout buddy to Rachel’s teacher, she eventually revealed herself to be Rachel’s own birth mother.  Cue a lot of angst. 

There are two large issues with Shelby’s arc.  Firstly: there was not nearly enough time to develop it.  I do actually commend the writers for handling it well considering the circumstances - it was appropriately touching, heartbreaking, and interesting - however, it unrolled slowly, and self-destructed quickly.  Nine episodes we knew of Shelby’s existence.  Four episodes we knew that Shelby was Rachel’s mom.  And three episodes where Rachel was allowed to interact with Shelby, before she snatched up Beth and was gone forever.

There really was not enough time devoted to it, which leads me to the second issue with Shelby’s arc on the show: it’s terribly tragic for Rachel’s character.  I can’t decide if it’s genius or heartbreaking in how the storyline interacted with one of the core identifiers of Rachel Berry’s emotional development. 

Let’s go with genius for now: here is a character whose arc on the show is about embedding her in a functional group, making her feel special by having her be a part of something special.  What could speak to this notion more than family?  This character is technically adopted, and an only child - she is, on paper, lacking the comfort and solace of a birth-given sense of belonging.  So the show introduces her real mom, and establishes that this character, the daughter, needs a mother in her life.  Here’s the girl’s chance to feel like she belongs - regardless of however much she loves her dads, the show specifically set up the idea that Rachel longs for a mother - for that sense of fitting in, of knowing where she comes from and where she belongs. 

And after four episodes, Shelby basically says she doesn’t really want a relationship with Rachel, but would rather have a new baby to start fresh with.  And she leaves.  Oh goodness, the heartache.  The heartache!  This is in direct violation of Rachel’s character development!  Rachel is being deprived of a family, again!  Rachel is being told she doesn’t belong, again!  And that’s not to say that it’s not a worthwhile storyline to explore, but oh goodness, does it hurt.  This is why I’m tempted to say that it’s genius - because Rachel’s mother actively denying her a relationship falls in step with the notion that Rachel is doomed to isolation in all areas.  She is awash in a sea of functional relationships, repeatedly refused healthy interactions, friendships, and romances.

But at the same time, the payoff was one of pure tragedy.  It’d be one thing if, in an effort to balance the scales, Rachel simultaneously experienced acceptance from her fathers, or from the Glee Club as a whole - but instead, she was left unfulfilled by Shelby, and unfulfilled by the Glee Club.  I mentioned previously that Rachel’s completely removed from the Glee Club’s sense of togetherness by the end of the Back 9 - she didn’t even go with the club to the hospital as they supported Quinn giving birth.  Shelby’s rejection of Rachel didn’t allow for acceptance anywhere else, which is perhaps the true disappointment of the storyline.  It was lovely that Finn told Rachel he loved her in “Journey,” but that moment existed simply for the purpose of the season finale wrap-up, and was framed in the furthering of Finn-and-Rachel, and not in contrast to Shelby’s abandonment in terms of Rachel’s character arc. 

So in some ways, it would make sense to bring Shelby back into the picture at some point, at least for some sort of emotional resolution.  However, it’s difficult to say that just because Rachel’s character arc involves embedding her in appreciation, that Shelby has to come back and be a Good Mother Who’s Involved in Rachel’s Life.  Tying down Idina Menzel is a logistical issue, and probably ill-advised.  But if Shelby’s not going to - and that’s valid - then we need to see Rachel’s dads.  It’s clear that the Elder Berries (hee) adore their daughter, thanks to their Basement Museum-Shrine Hybrid, and that divine portrait in their stairwell - but for the purposes of the show, they are absent from Rachel’s onscreen existence. 

Based on Shelby’s rejection and the sheer invisibility of her fathers, Rachel is almost a stranger in her own families, a character in isolation much in the same way she is in the Glee Club.  And the point of her arc is to give her a true family, whether it be in Glee Club or in her own home - or preferably, both.  If Rachel's family life is going to be developed any further, Ryan Murphy better start looking for Mr. and Mr. Berry  - or at least a happier ending.

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MASTER POST: RACHEL BERRY AND THE SPOTLIGHT

PART ONE: RACHEL AS A MAIN CHARACTER

PART TWO: RACHEL, THE GLEE CLUB, AND BELONGING

PART THREE: RACHEL, LIKEABILITY, AND DICHOTOMY

PART FOUR: RACHEL IN LOVE

PART FIVE: RACHEL, SHELBY, AND THE CONCEPT OF FAMILY

PART SIX: RACHEL, SELF, AND OTHERS

PART SEVEN: RACHEL, HER DREAMS, AND HER FUTURE

Rachel Berry and the Spotlight: Part Four

RACHEL IN LOVE

Rachel Berry, over the course of 38 episodes, has set her romantic sights on five different gentlemen: Finn, Puck, Will, Jesse, and Blaine.  She is introduced immediately as someone who wants a strong male lead both in the Glee club, and as well in her life.  But Rachel-in-love causes issues with her characterization - issues that sometimes the writers are able to sidestep, and sometimes issues they just step right in.

The fulfilling part of Rachel-in-love is the notion that Rachel is able to attract a guy’s attention, despite being the School Loser.  That was the original appeal of Finn and Rachel as a couple - that the underdog misfit could turn the head of the star quarterback.  The Pilot establishes that Rachel thinks Finn doesn’t even notice her - it’s a classic construct for a rewarding payoff in getting these two together.  Of course, after having four other quasi-love interests (and also because she’s played by the lovely Lea Michele), it becomes harder for us to see Rachel as someone who couldn’t get a guy.  But originally?  That’s the reward of Rachel having a boyfriend, and a popular one at that.

But the problem with Rachel-in-love is that she is frequently love’s fool.  She falls for the wrong guys, be they gay or her teacher, and falls victim to unfortunate circumstance that causes her relationships to self-destruct.  When Rachel is fortune’s fool, we feel badly for her, but when she is repeatedly love’s fool she experiences failures and loses her spark, and we want desperately for her to get that back. Take, for instance, Suzy Pepper's spot-on insight from "Ballad":

Love is hard for us. We look for boys we know we can never have. Mr. Schue is a perfect target for our self-esteem issues. He can never reciprocate our feelings which only reinforces the conviction that we’re not worthy of being loved. Trust me. I’m a cautionary tale. You need to find some self respect, Rachel. Get that mildly attractive groove back.

Even so, Rachel’s early experiences with love weren't quite as indignifying.  She stood up to Finn when she found out he took advantage of her affections for him in “The Rhodes Not Taken;” she broke up with Puck because she realized they wanted other people; and she apologized to Will for being momentarily but intensely infatuated with him.  She stood up to Finn again in “Hell-O,” knowing exactly what his issues were with their relationship and called him out on them.  For the solid ton of sheer force with which Rachel fell head over heels, she seemed to make up for it by being surprisingly self-aware and self-respecting when pushed to a limit.

But Season 2 Rachel has yet to reach this limit.  In the wake of her breakup with Finn, she circles around him with the doggedness and frail emotions of desperation.  To be fair, the show has identified, through Will’s conversation with Shelby in “Theatricality,” as well as through experience, that Rachel is emotionally fragile - and that’s valid.  But in favor of good storytelling, there comes a point when our main character has to pick herself up by her bootstraps and move forward.  She should be sympathetic, yes - but not to the point of sheer pity.  Suzy Pepper tells us so: Rachel is not meant to be love’s fool.  She has too much gumption in the other aspects of her life, and Rachel even says so herself in “The Rhodes Not Taken” - her dreams are bigger than that.  Rachel-in-love should not mean the sacrifice of that unique blend of forthright ambition and self-awareness, and unfortunately, the writers are having a hard time striking that balance. 

Part of the problem as well is that we rarely bear witness to Rachel happy in a relationship.  We see glimpses here and there, in the background and in our periphery, but the bulk of the screentime given to Rachel’s romances is rather angsty.  Her relationship with Jesse bore the weight of him originally being a rival and imploded unexpectedly over an argument; her infatuation with Will lead us to the conclusion that Rachel’s self-worth is low and sense of fantasy high; her brief fling with Puck ended with him insulting her; and her relationship with Finn manifested itself in a lot of self-esteem issues and petty arguments that ultimately resulted in the romance’s destruction.

It’s hard to want Rachel to be in a relationship when this is the result.  It’s almost as though the writers are attempting to hold up the tragic part of Rachel as a main character, and maneuvering her into relationships that are ultimately unfulfilling of her arc.  And that notion wouldn’t be so bad if Rachel weren’t repeatedly subjected to this - five different love interests!  Five! 

If Rachel’s going to be in love again (and surely she will), the writers need to grace her with the self-respect and maturity that has escaped our dear heroine in Season 2.  It’s imperative to the success of her relationships on the show, and if they try to give Rachel another romance without likewise blessing her with a little dignity, then it’s going to be a struggle to develop the relationship fairly and likeably.

The other main stipulation of a successful Rachel romance hinges on this piece of dialogue from “Ballad,” delivered by none other than Will Schuester in one of his increasingly rare moments of teacherly compassion and wisdom:

I know it’s not always easy for you, Rachel. And I know that there are some things about yourself that you think you’d like to change.  But you should know that there is some boy out there that’s going to like you for everything you are -  including those parts of you that even you don’t like. Those are going to be the things he likes the most.

Oh, goodness.  That, ladies and gentlemen, is the goal.  To find someone for Rachel who will love her for all her faults instead of lashing out at her for them or making her feel guilty about them.  And unfortunately, there really hasn’t been anyone that’s met that criteria entirely and still been a viable option for Rachel in terms of dating (sorry, Will and Blaine). 

While Jesse may have loved and accepted a lot of things about Rachel that others would not, their romance was treated as a relationship doomed to fail.  Jesse-and-Rachel burned bright and flared out over the course of four episodes, completely turned to ash after seven, and was a wisp on the wind after nine.  This is not to say the writers couldn’t successfully bring Jesse back into the picture, however.  We’ll see where the show takes us in that regard. 

As for Puck, his relationship with Rachel has evolved intriguingly and frustratingly since their initial partnering in “Mash-Up.”  The issue there is that the writers designed the characters to be an ill-conceived couple, but portrayed them as rather functionally compatible within the episode.  And then they got caught up in a lot of “bad boy-good girl” ruckus that’s really rather peripheral to the appeal of Puck and Rachel as a couple.  Mostly, the writers insist on portraying “Puckleberry” in antithesis to “Finchel,” as a roll-in-the-hay type of fling composed of two incompatible people, and only dangle the prospect of their coupling as something not to take seriously.  In actuality, Puck seems to genuinely like Rachel, and often seems capable of meeting the criteria in Will’s quote from “Ballad” - if only the writers were to develop it seriously.

In the Finn exploration, I spoke about “The Finchel Construct,” which basically identifies that if Finn and Rachel are to be a successful couple, they need to embody their original purposes on the show: Finn must embrace his love for Rachel as something a part of him, and Rachel needs to be accepted for who she is without losing her identity.  But Season 2 has turned the Finchel Construct into the Finchel Destruct, unfortunately.  The way in which the writers choose to manifest Finn’s and Rachel’s insecurities leave something to be desired in terms of a healthy relationship.  Rachel has been woefully insecure through much of her interaction with Finn, and to see her lose her spark on behalf of a boy is frustrating as a viewer.  It takes away the headlining qualities with which we identify and relate to Rachel, in favor of a poorly-developed high school romance.  Not good.  The balance that is imperative in Rachel’s characterization goes completely out the window, as the writers lay the desperation on thick and remove the element of ambition and self-respect that helped make Rachel relatable to the audience.

While it’s true that Rachel’s insecurities are definitely Rachel’s own issues, the idea that, in effect, they are often exacerbated in a relationship with Finn does not bode well for how fulfilling this romance can be in terms of either of their character arcs. 

This is not to say, of course, that the writers can’t set the dynamic so that it brings out each character’s good qualities.  The point of Finn’s arc is to embrace, and the point of Rachel’s is to be embraced - but the writers are deliberately ignoring this and working against both characters’ development.  So unfortunately, evidence points to the idea that when Rachel is hung up on Finn she is bogged-down with self-doubt, emotional dependence, and an inferiority complex - what can basically be identified as the destruct of Rachel’s core character.  If the Finn-and-Rachel relationship is to be continued - and I wager to say that it’s meant to - this absolutely needs to amended so that Rachel as a character can be true to her original self, and cherished for it.  The Finchel Construct - or any relationship Rachel has, with anyone - is dependent on it.

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MASTER POST: RACHEL BERRY AND THE SPOTLIGHT

PART ONE: RACHEL AS A MAIN CHARACTER

PART TWO: RACHEL, THE GLEE CLUB, AND BELONGING

PART THREE: RACHEL, LIKEABILITY, AND DICHOTOMY

PART FOUR: RACHEL IN LOVE

PART FIVE: RACHEL, SHELBY, AND THE CONCEPT OF FAMILY

PART SIX: RACHEL, SELF, AND OTHERS

PART SEVEN: RACHEL, HER DREAMS, AND HER FUTURE

Rachel Berry and the Spotlight: Part Three

RACHEL, LIKEABILITY, AND DICHOTOMY

Not everybody loves Rachel Berry.  She’s something of a divisive character based on a few of her personality traits, and many people would agree that if they knew Rachel in real life they probably wouldn’t like her.  But, plenty remain fans, and maintain that if there were a Rachel Berry in their school, they’d be best friends.

There’s a reason why the reaction to Rachel is so strong and contradictory.  Rachel has displayed traits that are in direct conflict with one another, and can be argued with equal conviction.  She is both selfish and selfless, self-confident and insecure, bossy and submissive.  Whether or not you like her depends on what traits you’re taking into consideration when evaluating the character.

But perhaps a more worthwhile use of time would be to analyze what creates that dichotomy in character.  When is Rachel selfish, when is she selfless, and what about the situations leads to the different results?  What does this say about her character - and is that a reason to dislike her?

To be fair, the dualities in Rachel’s character and the way she is wielded in the show help to round her out as one of the more successful characters that the show has created and furthered.  She’s complex, with real flaws and real strengths, and it helps support her as the tragicomic lead.  However, this also creates issues with how she is developed in conjunction with her peers, and in nurturing her character arc for the purpose of the show.  

Perhaps the biggest thing about Rachel Berry that gets overlooked is the idea that sometimes she is incredibly selfish and sometimes she is incredibly selfless.  And it all boils down to the idea that Rachel as a character is trying to move herself out of isolation.  She’s reached out repeatedly, to Finn, to Quinn, to Kurt - to people who have ignored her at best and tortured her at worst, in an effort to strike up a friendship. 

Rachel Berry wants to be loved.  She wants to have friends.  She wants to be a valued part of the Glee Club.  But based on the way people treat her, she is under the assumption that the best way to win people over is to sing.  In the Pilot, she tells Will that the only way for people not to hate her is to be great at something.  What is Rachel Berry good at?  Singing.  The very next episode, Finn tells Rachel that he thinks she talks too much and that her obsessiveness unsettles him, but that when she sings, it changes everything.  Puck says early on that Rachel makes him want to light himself on fire, but man, can she sing.

It’s been drilled into Rachel’s head, repeatedly, that the only thing she has to offer is her singing voice.  So she holds onto that identity, and protects that role so she has something to offer.  She knows she can’t always have a solo - Will tells her that in “Showmance.”  And frankly, that’s part of Rachel’s arc.  If she’s going to become a functional part of the Glee club, she needs to be a team player. 

But where the writers went wrong was in the payoff of that idea.  Rachel gave up a solo to Mercedes in “Sectionals,” and it took a whole season thereafter for Rachel to be rewarded, in terms of storytelling, with friends.  She’s displayed team-oriented behavior as early as the F13.  But of course, it doesn’t help that there’s been some backtracking.  Rachel’s likeability always takes a hit when we don’t understand her, as I mentioned in the previous entry, and often it’s a result of the writers mishandling the dichotomies Rachel’s character.

Back to “Audition” for an example - the idea that Rachel was threatened by Sunshine was not unfounded, but the writers were slightly left of target in the reasoning.  It’s not that Sunshine was threatening Rachel’s solos.  She was threatening her position as soloist - because the only place where Rachel is appreciated is on stage, singing into that microphone.  Sunshine inadvertently compromised the only likeable identity that Rachel ever had to offer anyone, and Rachel acted out.  But instead of focusing on the fact that that’s actually rather depressing, the writers chose instead to view Rachel two-dimensionally, and had her simply throw a tantrum over the loss of solos.

This issue of poor writing choice arose again in “Duets.”  Rachel expressed that felt she wasn’t as good a person as Finn and was inspired to be more like him as a result.  This led to her reaching out to both Quinn and Kurt, throwing the competition and extending a hand in friendship - all good outcomes, yes.  But the writers really missed the point there.  The point of Rachel’s arc is not to have her be “more like Finn.”  It’s to include her in the Glee club, and give her friends and acceptance as a result.  She inherently wants to reach out and be kind, based on the notion that it might beget her a friendship.  It has nothing to do with Finn, so the way Rachel’s actions played out in that particular instance were a bit misguided, unfortunately. 

We, as an audience, bear witness to Rachel Berry being kind and compassionate, and yet it gets overlooked by the other characters within the narrative.  Rachel has never been just a singing voice to the audience.  We’ve seen her cry far too many times to write her off as completely insensitive.  Alas, the other characters haven’t.  Rachel cries behind closed doors, where only we can see her.  There is a difference between the way the characters on the show see Rachel, and the way we, as an audience, are meant to see Rachel.  And unfortunately, at many times in Season 2, it's as if the writers are treating Rachel as though they actually attend McKinley High.

Writing Rachel Berry calls for a delicate balance of opposites, and an understanding of when those characteristics arise and lay dormant.  She is embedded in the narrative, and also a construct of it; she is vulnerable, and yet self-confident; she embodies what the Glee Club represents, but she isn’t truly a part of it.  Rachel is defined by a series of polarities, which causes both dynamism and contradiction in the way the character is portrayed onscreen.  When the writers mishandle this balance, we find ourselves trying to negotiate the likeability in a character who is disproportionately hyperbolic and empathetic.

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MASTER POST: RACHEL BERRY AND THE SPOTLIGHT

PART ONE: RACHEL AS A MAIN CHARACTER

PART TWO: RACHEL, THE GLEE CLUB, AND BELONGING

PART THREE: RACHEL, LIKEABILITY, AND DICHOTOMY

PART FOUR: RACHEL IN LOVE

PART FIVE: RACHEL, SHELBY, AND THE CONCEPT OF FAMILY

PART SIX: RACHEL, SELF, AND OTHERS

PART SEVEN: RACHEL, HER DREAMS, AND HER FUTURE

One Year Bloggaversary!

One year ago today, I got up off my computer chair and started this blog.  Okay, more accurately, I sat down in my computer chair and started this blog.  But the action was strong!  I was bored, and had no outlet for writing.  I was spewing television critique to my real life loved ones, who mostly rolled their eyes and tried their best to listen politely.  So I did what any self-respecting, 21st-century nerd did: I took to the Internet. 

I didn't put in much effort or reap the rewards from it until the fall of 2010, but the fact remains that DR SHE BLOGGO's birthday is March 24th.  (Seriously, maybe don't poke around anything before August.  There's so much fluff back there.  And I think everything might even be in a different font... maybe I should fix that.)  

Anyways, I'm very lucky and grateful to have people reading what I write, and so I wanted to put together a Top 10 of Blog Entries I'm Most Proud Of.  Is this an exercise in narcissism?  Perhaps.  But I'm not going to like, write paragraphs about why I like them, so I figure I'm still in the acceptable range of self-centeredness.  I hope.

And before I forget: in honor of this first year in existence, I am now drshebloggo.com!  I'm moving up in the world!  Update your bookmarks, or however it is that you manage to find your way to me.  The old addresses should still redirect though, so worry not.  The blogspot part will still get you here!

 And without further ado, I'm going to gaze longingly in my hand mirror and wax poetic about the words I've been writing for the past year.  

TOP 10 ENTRIES THAT STRIKE A SENSE OF PERSONAL PRIDE

10. Voices and the Music Industry

9. Has Glee Jumped the Gay Shark?

8. Wicked: An Appreciation

7. Finn, Passivity, and Choice

6. Quinndependence, and the Meaning of the Word

5. Harry and Hermione, Onscreen

4. Chicks and Pixar: Lady Protagonists Onscreen

3. An Open Letter to the Ladies of McKinley High

2. Glee: the GQ Cover

1. So You're Not Married: Who the F*** Cares?

Alright, this self-absorbedness has gone on too long.  Tune in later tonight for the next installment of Rachel Berry Week!  I hope you're all celebrating it as much as I am!

Rachel Berry and the Spotlight: Part Two

RACHEL, THE GLEE CLUB, AND BELONGING

The Glee Club exists, as a part of the narrative, to bring characters acceptance and joy.  Glee is there for Finn, and for Puck, and for Quinn, and for Tina and Kurt and Santana and Brittany and all of them - as a place where they can be themselves and be happy because of it.  Incorporating the popular kids into the Glee Club is one of the show’s driving arcs, along with allowing the loser kids to be accepted for who they are - and both of these ideas are fostered by the existence of the club. 

For many of the other characters, Rachel Berry often represents Glee, and therefore allows their development to interact with the notion of acceptance for the purpose of their arc - evidentially this has been the case for Finn, Quinn, and Puck as they work towards embracing their inner loser.  Rachel therefore is a fixture for these characters.  This begs the question: how does this general idea manifest itself in Rachel’s character arc?

What is fascinating about Rachel’s place in the show is that she is a fixture.  She is the Glee club, but functionally speaking she is not a part of it.  She is hovering somewhere above it, acting as a leader and a soloist, but is never really “one of the gang.”  So the idea for Rachel is not necessarily to have her accept her inner loser with pride, but rather to ground her amongst the other characters as a functional member of the Glee group.

This is outlined in the very first episode.  Rachel was almost immediately constructed as an isolated character.  Consider her original solo: “On My Own.”  In one way, the song speaks to Rachel’s lovesick nature, yes; but on the whole it’s a testament to the idea that Rachel is isolated within the narrative, in almost every way.  And not only that, but Rachel’s conversation with Will in the bleachers establishes that she doesn’t want to be isolated.  It’s this scene that identifies where Rachel Berry’s character arc needs to go.  “Being a part of something special makes you special,” she tells Will, and whether or not that’s true, it’s clear that Rachel Berry wholly believes that.   And even though she’s been in Glee Club since Day One, Rachel Berry is not truly a part of Glee. 

The show has mostly made good on the promise that Rachel Berry will be accepted by her peers - but it’s been a bumpy, prolonged, and inconsistent road.  “The Rhodes Not Taken” - the fifth episode - presents us with the idea that Rachel values being friends with her fellow Glee clubbers more than she cares about having a solo, and yet the writers have circled back on that idea and left it unfulfilled on more than one occasion.

In the F13, Rachel didn’t have a real friend in the club, and yet she was still developed as a sympathetic and compassionate person - she reached out to Quinn in “Throwdown,” helped Finn in “Ballad,” and conceded a solo to Mercedes in “Sectionals.”  At the end of “Sectionals,” Rachel could perhaps be considered at the end of her arc - all signs seemed to point to the fact that since she saved the day, had a moment with Quinn, hugged Mercedes, and believed Santana, that she had been incorporated into the club as a friend.

But in the Back 9, the writers rewound the tape and returned Rachel to her position of misfit both in McKinley as well as in the glee club.  The first minute of “Hell-O” showed her having a conversation with Kurt and Mercedes, and we all rejoiced, thinking that perhaps they were actually friends now!  But then, we got slapped in the face with a cold slushie of truth, and the illusion was shattered.  After that, we realized that not much had changed at all.  Finn rejected Rachel in favor of the popular girls, all of whom continued to verbally abuse Rachel as a punchline to one of Glee’s favorite jokes.  

Then, before anything else could happen, the show immediately maneuvered Rachel out of her arc, and chose instead to develop her in conjunction with a love interest from a different school, and the reveal of her mother’s identity.  The Back 9 did little to nothing for incorporating Rachel into the Glee club because the writers didn’t have to - they chose not to.  They isolated her again, removing her from Glee interactions on account of her new boyfriend.  The only moment where Rachel Berry was supported by her peers was after the egging incident in “Funk,” and that was lovely to see.  But other than that?  Not much.  “Journey” fulfilled only the story arcs with Finn, Jesse, and Shelby.  She didn’t even go with the whole club to the hospital for Quinn’s baby - she stayed and watched Vocal Adrenaline, and had a talk with Shelby, because it was what her storyline was about. 

Season 2 further moved Rachel away from incorporating her into the Glee club - at least initially.  “Audition” found her threatened by the existence of a new student capable of upsetting the distribution of leads away from Rachel, and Rachel’s outlandish reaction to that.  You’ll allow me a brief moment of rant, please, when I talk about her actions in “Audition” - because first episodes after hiatus are not always kind to Rachel Berry.

Now, the inherent issue in Rachel’s arc is that she sometimes stands in her own way while trying to be accepted.  The other characters can’t understand her bossiness or ambition, and so they write her off as an irritation.  This isn’t always an issue in the short-term, as long as we, as an audience, understand why Rachel is the way she is.  The writers were fairly reliable in their insistence on letting us in Rachel’s head.  But “Audition” was the first big misstep.  Rachel’s actions in that episode were to send Sunshine to a crackhouse, and we never really understood why.  We knew she was threatened, but we thought it was funny, and annoying.  Sing-off in the bathroom!  Hilarious!  This is Rachel the Glee Clown being used for a joke, right?

Well, no.  Not when the result is Rachel putting another character’s life in danger.  That’s a huge action, and we weren’t given a huge (and therefore empathetic) reason to support it.  We didn’t see Rachel’s moment of choice in that episode - we just got info from Mike and Tina and everybody got all mad at Rachel, and she lied about her motives for doing it.  Really, writers?  The amount of unwarranted hyperbole in Rachel’s actions during “Audition” was really not okay.  It was the first time they took Caricature Rachel Berry and used her for plot device instead of comedy, and that’s a terrible idea. 

To boot, the machinations unfortunately moved her a half-dozen steps back in her character arc as a result.  The last moments of “Audition” show Rachel singing “What I Did For Love,” in complete isolation again.  She literally stands outside the Glee Club classroom, looking in at everyone having fun without her. 

“Audition” presented us with the notion that Rachel Berry will choose herself and her solos over friendship and compassion, which is in direct conflict with previous development the writers gave to her.  It essentially undoes Rachel’s characterization a bit to be able to build it back up to a goal, because the writers aren’t sure how to maneuver a character towards the fulfillment of his or her arc. 

In the Finn epic,  I spoke about Finn’s repeated choice of football vs. Glee, and how his development is stuck on a carousel.  This is Rachel Berry’s carousel - she is brought up to a point where she may play a healthy and functional part to her environment, only to have potential friendships and acceptance yanked away again by a not-entirely-in-character action.  This carousel is a bit more heartbreaking in Rachel’s case, because it denies her the opportunity to be a part of Glee club, and at the expense of positive characterization.  She’s perhaps the only character in the club that gets emotionally excluded from that part of the show’s theme - which is tragically ironic considering she often represents Glee within the narrative.

After “Audition,” Season 2 did bring the possibility of human connection back to Rachel, although I hate to say that it wasn’t really through her relationship with Finn.  Unfortunately, most of their romance manifested itself in drama, arguments, and insecurity, and there were precious few moments when the couple was allowed to be happy - but more on Finn and Rachel later.

The good news in all of this is that Rachel’s kinship with Kurt was kept up, and together with Mercedes, the three of them formed their own little Diva Trifecta Friendship.  That has been one of the true successes of Season 2, although the development of the relationship could frankly have been stronger.  Even so, the result is more than worth it, and the few opportunities where the writers could have created lasting conflict between the three (“Comeback,” and “Blame It On The Alcohol” in particular) were avoided, thankfully.

Furthermore, you can see the development towards acceptance in the variety of leads that Rachel has had in Season 2.  She has not been exclusively a soloist, or a lead in a group number.  She’s had duets with Kurt, Holly, Mercedes, Puck, and Blaine, as well as with Finn.  This has been an important step in Rachel’s arc, and helped to move her through to the second mid-season finale.

Everything in Rachel’s development has led directly to her moments in “Original Song,” and the creation of “Get It Right.”  The bullying, the isolation, the good intentions gone awry by poor decision - everything culminated in “Get It Right,” as her peers finally understood what it’s like to be Rachel Berry.  "Get It Right" is not about Finn.  "Get It Right" is Rachel Berry, boiled down into her very essence and put to music.  The idea that that song, Rachel's Song, helped them win the competition bolsters her purpose within the narrative, and allows her to move forward in her arc towards true friendship with her peers.  The curtain call of that notion is in Rachel’s acceptance speech of Glee Club MVP: she doesn’t care about the gold star trophy she won.  She cares about feeling special.  Finally, after 38 episodes, Rachel Berry is a part of something special.  Group hug!

Now, let’s hope that this will stick when we come back from hiatus, and we won't have to take another spin on the Glee Character Carousel: Rachel Berry Edition.

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MASTER POST: RACHEL BERRY AND THE SPOTLIGHT

PART ONE: RACHEL AS A MAIN CHARACTER

PART TWO: RACHEL, THE GLEE CLUB, AND BELONGING

PART THREE: RACHEL, LIKEABILITY, AND DICHOTOMY

PART FOUR: RACHEL IN LOVE

PART FIVE: RACHEL, SHELBY, AND THE CONCEPT OF FAMILY

PART SIX: RACHEL, SELF, AND OTHERS

PART SEVEN: RACHEL, HER DREAMS, AND HER FUTURE