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Intricate Writing

  • Writer: Sam
    Sam
  • Jan 10, 2019
  • 5 min read


Before I start, this will contain spoilers for It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia Season 13, specifically the final episode, Mac Finds His Pride. With that said...


Writing is a strenuous task. But, Sam, you’re just sat at a desk typing, a lot of people will be thinking. Very true. And yet, emotionally it can be incredibly draining. Any writer, and possibly any creator, will tell you this. There are intricacies that consumers will miss, layers built into the writing, that takes meticulous planning and skilled execution. And the writer often does this work, knowing that people will never get it. And so, some writers grow lazy. Their writing is still good, but it lacks the depth that would make it great.


Please note, when I say intricate, I don’t mean complex. Writing should be simple, as the consumer should be able to digest it with ease. What I mean is, layered writing, that works towards a payoff, that can leave an audience stunned.


That was certainly the case when I watched Mac Finds His Pride, the final episode of the 13th season of Always Sunny. This season has been average. It pains me to admit it, as I am a huge fan of the show. But, for me, it has. Truth be told, I wasn’t even a fan of the first three quarters of the final episode. It’s not that it was bad. It just felt forced. I still laughed at the jokes, but more through a sense of loyalty than actually finding them funny. However, the last 5 minutes were remarkable. In part it had to do with good directing and the stellar acting. However, to me the biggest reason was the writing.


Throughout the episode, Mac (Rob McElhenney) had been trying to explain to Frank (Danny DeVito) his emotions and feelings about being gay. Eventually, with Frank’s help, he visits his dad in prison to finally come out to him. Mac, with a conviction I’ve never heard the character have before, says, “Dad... I’m gay.” The lights shut off. A spotlight flicks on to reveal Mac kneeling on stage, rain trickling over him. Sigur Rós’ hauntingly beautiful ‘Varúð’ starts playing. There then follows a dance sequence that held me in awe.


The choreography was extremely well thought out and the actual dancing was sublime. Choreography aside, I found the dance incredibly clever. In an earlier scene, when trying to explain his internal conflict, Mac tells Frank that he visualises God as a woman. (Mac has been taught/brought up to desire God. He sees God as a woman because he desires heterosexuality, as his religion has made him feel ashamed of being gay. Layers.) In the first move of the dance, the woman (Kylie Shea), how he envisions God, comes to him, twisting to hold him as if he was on the cross. This is his religion crucifying him because of his sexuality. The mirroring of Jesus is brilliant; both being nailed to the cross because of their beliefs. And all the more jarring, because he’s only held to that cross because he craves the religion so much.


What struck me more than the dance, was the fact that Mac, a slightly confusing character, suddenly made sense. He has often been the butt of jokes. He struggles with his body image. His internal struggle to accept that he’s gay because of his devout Catholicism. He craves his father’s love. The jokes are often fantastic, but always at Mac’s expense.


Suddenly, these jokes, that have been running for years, made sense. He’s been striving to craft an excellent physique, because he’s trying to sculpt himself into the man he wants to

be, chasing masculinity, believing his physical achievements would make up for his spiritual anguish. And, perhaps, part of that had to do with the idea of Mac strengthening himself against a world that would judge him. Suddenly, the jokes seem cold. This is a man in pain.


During the dance, the attempts to win his father’s affection were no longer pathetic, but tragic. He sees his father as a reflection of God. Through the seasons, Mac has often expressed that he sees God as unforgiving and punishing, which has been echoed through his relationship with his father. During the dance, he turns his back to the woman, the caring God, to face his father, the unforgiving God. Is this because he believes he deserves the unforgiving God? Though his father rejects him, walking out in disgust, Mac continues to dance with the woman, realising that his father, and the unforgiving God, aren’t needed in his life.


His internal struggle with faith is most represented in the dance. It’s intimate, though flows almost like a struggle, with Mac’s expression remaining pained. It signifies his relationship with religion, (and possibly homosexuality and acceptance) and is beautiful. After his father walks out, Mac and the woman lay on the ground, breathing heavily. She rises, picking him up. They embrace, continuing to dance together. He flings her away, but she runs back. It ends with the woman holding Mac, whispering, “It’s OK.” I think this sequence shows his bond with religion, and God, and his understanding that God has accepted him for who he is.


Now, if you watch the dance sequence and don’t read into it, you’ll most probably still find it a stunning piece of art. But what truly makes it great, is the intricacy and detail that are layered into each movement. There’s a payoff. Suddenly, jokes that have been running for years, take on a whole new light and there’s a different context to Mac’s life. He’s no longer this bumbling character, he’s a confused man trying his hardest to figure out himself. This only works so powerfully because of the earlier years of set up within the writing. And while many may not appreciate it, as audiences can be unforgiving, those that do will find it inspiring.


I adore writing like this. At times it can take effort and pain, yet the result is a depth of emotion that is impossible to attain without having layers within your writing. Achieving this isn’t easy, it takes planning and thought. Often, it’s thankless. A lot of people don’t get it, or don’t care.


I wrote this piece mainly to appreciate McElhenney and Charlie Day’s brilliant writing. It can also be a lesson. Writing is a journey. You need to be good enough to keep the audience along for the ride, but what is most important is, when you get to your destination, the payoff should have an impact. It needs to have meaning. Otherwise, why did you go on the journey in the first place?

 
 
 

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