The Psychology of the Protagonist

They come in every shape, age, gender, function, and personality. There are memorable ones, forgettable ones, likable ones, infuriating ones... Just what makes for a good protagonist, and what difference does it make to have a solid one?

This is actually quite a complicated question to answer. In essence, the dilemma lies at the heart of an age old debate; should plots make characters, or should characters make plots?

Angry characters make good protagonists too

Older and more traditional methods of storytelling in various cultures would usually argue the first point. In the perspective of that position, a plot is absolute. The characters in this case are simply actors in the tale, and their development is of secondary interest to the progression of events. Consider a traditional folktale or children's fairytale. Characters are usually one-dimensional and defined by obvious and strategic characteristics. "He was a very good boy", "she was a foolish woman"; these are the sorts of descriptions one might encounter upon hearing or reading such a story before embarking on the plot. While it's not quite this simple in more complex plot-driven literature or series, the fact remains that the main focus of the work is on the narrative; characters may be developed or they may not, and ultimately what we care about is what happens to them in regards to the environment that surrounds them and the experiences they have.

With the advent of Modernism, a different approach developed. Writers suddenly became interested in their characters and how they could use them to portray various "truths" of the world. While plot was still important, psychology was now more and more significant to the flow of a narrative. Why did characters feel the way they did? What was normal, what was interesting, could narrators be reliable? Should they be reliable? How unique should they be? How should they interact with others? Characters began to shape the worlds they inhabited, and there was a shift in focus from the external developments of characters to their internal developments instead.

In our own post-modern world, we can clearly see the influence of both opinions on our narrative arts, but more than ever, we seem to be captivated by the inner workings of the protagonist and how he or she affects our experiences with movies, books, art, etc. Anime is no exception.

Crazy ones are sometimes the best kind

The classic example for an anime protagonist looking in is probably Neon Genesis Evangelion's Shinji Ikari. As a protagonist, Shinji is utterly damaged. He's the product of abuse, a tattered self-esteem, and mental torture, and his actions and dialogue don't shy away from showing it. He has a mother complex, a father complex, some almost Freudian development, and a generally chaotic personality. Sometimes Shinji is downright sickening, and sometimes he's so far removed that it's impossible to empathize with him; his complexity in this case, while interesting to watch, does hurt his relatability. Whether or not that's important is debatable, because Shinji is still a fascinating character and the series essentially comes down to forcing him to face his psychological problems and come to terms with his identity. He's the quintessential example of a character's inner turmoil driving plot forward rather than the other way around.

Yet some people would argue that whether or not a character is easy to empathize with is essential to the success of a narrative. I think, to some degree, that this is true, though only when the narrative is centered on the development of the protagonist rather than the plot.

For instance, let's take a look at Light Yagami from the series Death Note for a moment. This is a bit of a difficult series to classify according to the aforementioned styles, but it's not impossible to establish the fact that Light isn't easy to empathize with. For the most part, Light is a psychopath, someone who believes that they're abolishing evil through evil and enjoying the game that comes with it. As a psychopath, he exhibits all the classical signs of the disorder: lack of connection with others, a charming personality, etc. He's a fairly removed protagonist even without his strategical and unemotional mind, and while the series technically revolves around psychological warfare between himself and L, it's not really about Light's development so much about what his plans bring about. Thus, we have an unrelatable protagonist without hurting the narrative because the plot progression is of more interest than how or why Light acts the way he does.

Emotional baggage? Check.

On the other hand, we can have a fairly straight-forward plot line that should by all means be less interesting if the protagonist does not step-up to draw in the viewer. A good example of this is actually Eureka Seven; we've all seen interracial or forbidden boy-meets-girl love stories before, and while the plot for this isn't simple, it isn't that original either. The fact that this series spends half its run time developing its protagonists and making them easy to empathize or sympathize with elevates the overall narrative to a different level than it would otherwise. Renton Thurston is so easy to empathize with, in fact, that he's almost as boring as any other normal boy or girl his age would be, and it's only through his learning experiences that he comes into his own as the hero of the piece. In this case, Renton isn't the only character carefully developed to resonate with the viewer; virtually every character with a speaking role takes part in the process of integrating us into the narrative.

What makes a great protagonist and what makes a bad one? Is Light less interesting than Renton because he's not as relatable? Surely not; Renton is just a whiny kid, while Light is an almost elegant villain. Does that make Light a better character than Renton then? This is also not the case, and to be honest, the question is almost impossible to answer.

So then, how do we know when a protagonist is good or not?

I think it's circumstancial. A character doesn't have to be easy to empathize with to be interesting. He or she doesn't have to be out of the ordinary or special either. A good protagonist simply develops well in his or her circumstances; whether internally or externally is up to the narrative.

Watashi, from Jinrui wa Suitaishimashita, is a great protagonist because she provides scathing satire and commentary on the absurdity of the world that surrounds her. She's an intellectual and rational being lost in a world of pure crazy, and when she's pulled in all she can do is deal with it with dry humor, wit, and occasionally by making things worse.

So help me, I will name my child after this boy

Ao Fukai, of Eureka Seven: Astral Ocean, is so difficult to empathize with compared to his father that he shouldn't be nearly as good a character in theory. He has a complex toward both parents, a past full of racist hatred, and an almost out of place optimism for the world. Yet Ao is a stronger protagonist than most because he's a brave soul in a world that continually tries to break him. He throws himself whole-heartedly into his duties and responsibilities without losing that spark of hope everyone else has already lost; he knows just how important it is to hold on to it and does his utmost to do the right thing, even if the right thing is terrible.

Jormungand's Koko is a great protagonist because she's insane in a world already full of insanity. She's decided to change the world order in a self-justified frenzy because she thinks it's the most efficient way to do so, the world be damned.

Then there are those protagonists who don't leave much of an impression.

Sword Art Online's Kirito is such a protagonist because he's boring to watch. He gets everything through virtually no effort, is liked by every girl without having a definitive reason for why they're interested, and is both unrelatable and uninteresting.

Ayato Kamina of Rahxephon is technically an interesting character, but the plot is so overwhelmingly complex and his existence so confusing to understand that occasionally there's a disconnect and it's not easy to see him as such.

Sakurasou no Pet na Kanojo's Sorata is a conventional harem/romcom lead and thus unoriginal and occasionally frustrating to watch. His obliviousness, like all harem leads, cuts into his development and weakens the few strengths he does possess.

Complexity is good in this case

In short, it depends. Part of that is based on the viewer's preferences, and part of it is based on whether a narrative is structurally dependent on its plot or its characters. There are other factors as well, of course, but in our psychology-obsessed criticism, I think we often just want to see a character that interests us in some shape or form. Whether that interest comes from uniqueness or from empathy is subjective. However, when a character develops naturally and amusingly through either method in his or her respective mythos, we seem to find more and more reasons to label that particular protagonist as worthy of our interest. In other words, we've more or less discarded the idea that a great story is plot based only; we've grown accustomed to our focus on the protagonist and often judge a work based on how well that protagonist ultimately helps to establish the world we immerse ourselves in.

Since it's ultimately a choice of preference, what do you personally find engaging in a protagonist? Do you prefer empathetic characters or uniquely removed ones? Complex or simple ones? Do you have a favorite protagonist?