Relationship Spotlight: Trent & Ian (Huge)

 

This relationship is unlike many that I write about here.  It’s not about how close these characters are or how unexpected their connection is, and it’s not destructive-fascinating like Tony and Sid from Skins, either.  Rather, I’m writing about these two because their dynamic is so unlike most of what you see on television.

 

The initial interactions between Trent and Ian are much what you’d expect on any teen show.  Though both are overweight and neither probably has a lot of game back home, Trent is considered “fit” at weight-loss camp and is a clear candidate for the popular clique.  Ian, by contrast, is far less confident and prefers playing the guitar to playing sports; he falls in with the ragtag misfits like rebellious Will, geeky Becca, and sweet Alistair (who’s widely assumed to be gay and held at arm’s length for it by most campers.)  So, Ian feels inadequate when he sees Trent hanging out with pretty, popular Amber, and when Trent makes unkind remarks about Alistair, Ian writes him off as a stereotypical jock jerk.

 

Rather refreshingly, Ian isn’t the least bit interested in winning Trent’s approval or joining his crowd.  Yes, he’s into Amber, but it’s not about status for him.  In his perfect world, I imagine Ian would want Amber to ditch her group to run with him, Will, Becca, and Alistair – Trent and his sort would have no part in it.  In most day-to-day, non-crushing-on-Amber situations, Ian is perfectly content to hang with his unpopular friends doing their unpopular things.

 

Things start to change between these two when Ian writes and performs a song for talent night.  When he’s working on it, Trent is at once curious but skeptical.  He immediately urges Ian to play it for him, and when Ian admits that he hasn’t written it yet, Trent suggests that Ian join the skit he’s doing with a handful of other guys, on the grounds that they “know what [they’re] doing, and it’s gonna be really great.”  It’s an invitation to be included (one that he pointedly doesn’t extend to Alistair,) but at the same time, it feels sort of like a dig:  maybe you don’t have your crap together, but we do, and we’re gonna be awesome.  However, when talent night rolls around and Trent hears Ian’s song, all bets are off.

 

From that point on, Trent is completely taken with Ian and seems to want nothing more than to hang out and jam with him (there’s an unused drum set in the rec room, and Trent is eager to brush up on it.)  In the next episode, he talks about Ian’s song while he’s alone with his girlfriend and later bails on plans with her in the hopes of jamming with Ian.  This angle, with the popular athletic desperate to get in good with the insecure musician, is unlike virtually everything you see on teen shows.  It’s made even more pronounced by the fact that Ian is sort of horrified at Trent’s attentions; he takes to hiding from Trent, who he calls his “stalker.”

 

I like it for that twist, and I also like that, for Trent, it’s about himself as much as his admiration for Ian.  Early in the series, we see Trent in an introspective moment wondering how exactly he came to be a “sports guy,” how it emerged as his chief interest and defining factor.  So, he’s at a bit of a loss in terms of figuring out who he is, and when he sees Ian performing for everyone, it hits home.  It sets off something within him, and while it makes him realize how cool Ian is in his own way and want to befriend him, it also makes him want to be like Ian.  From that perspective, he’s widening his friendship horizon and finding himself at the same time.

Favorite Characters: Becca Huffstatter (Huge)

Is it wrong to love a character because they remind you so much of yourself?  I don’t care; this shy, bookish girl resonates with me so entirely.  It’s an acute familiarity, one that pulls me right back to my teenage years.  I wasn’t awkward in the same way – my adolescent awkwardness was a completely different animal – but the feelings, temperament, and sensitivity behind it is wholly the same.  Though “shy, bookish girl” is an admittedly common trope, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it captured quite so well on TV.

A repeat visitor to weight-loss-centered Camp Victory, Becca is a quiet bundle of insecurities.  To paraphrase a line from Othello, she makes friends not wisely but too well:  the few friendships she manages to forge are extremely cherished, and the loss of one is felt deeply.  She’s incredibly shy but hungry to connect with someone, a difficult one-two punch.  She needs someone like the much-more-outspoken Will to make the first move, to speak in her general direction if not specifically to her.  Then, she can swallow her nervousness enough to timidly dip her toes in the water of friendship.

The resemblance I see in this nervousness, this conversational paralysis, is almost squirmingly uncomfortable.  My heart goes out to Becca when she doesn’t get to watch a certain show because she can’t bear to ask for use of the TV.  So often, she lingers the edge of a scene, waiting for invitations that aren’t forthcoming.  It’s the old feeling that social interactions are like a moving train, and in order to take part, she needs to jump on.

But sometimes, she jumps.  When she wants to start a camp LARPing group (she’s a huge fantasy nerd – I love it,) she sets out to find members, taking along Will for moral support.  She also stands up boldly for her friends, usually Will.  She lays into a pair of self-centered girls who find Will’s private journal in the lost and found, and when Will finds out her crush thinks she’s gay, Becca sets him straight in a hilarious, half-panicky declaration.

She’s not as good at speaking up on her own behalf.  If she can open up to someone, she’ll gently come alive with geeky delight describing the fantasy universe she created for her LARP or the runic cypher she uses when she’s writing something for-her-eyes-only in her journal.  In general, though, she struggles to get her emotional needs met.  She has one of those faces that apparently beg for people to tell her their problems, and she spends a lot of time on the receiving end of other people’s crises, mostly Will’s.  They never seem to get around to Becca’s worries, which build until she simply can’t hold them in any longer.  Then, we get a beautifully messy moment of catharsis where everything she’s bottled up comes tumbling out and Will is forced to be the listening ear for once.  Ah, the sweet taste of introvert victory!

I like that, despite her fears and shyness, Becca still musters up quite a bit of bravery.  Organizing the LARP takes massive guts for someone like Becca, and in one of the show’s most memorable scenes, she acquits herself fantastically just when it looks like she might be caught in a fib.  Her accomplishments in these scenes, for her, are akin to looking down the barrel of a loaded gun, and I only hope I had that much nerve when I was her age.