Guest Writer Wednesday: Ann Perkins and Me: It’s Complicated

 

I feel guilty bringing up Ann Perkins in any discussion of Parks and Recreation, mainly because the positive relationship between Ann and Leslie is one of the main things that makes the show so great (and groundbreaking!) for many people (read: feminists) I talk to about it, but: I don’t like Ann Perkins.

When Ann was introduced in the pilot episode of the NBC sitcom as a disgruntled citizen at a public forum being hosted by Leslie Knope of the Parks and Rec Department of Pawnee, Indiana, she seemed to be one of the many cranks with whom Leslie tends to deal on a regular basis. Some of the funniest recurring characters on this show are the kooky folks who keep turning up to these forums, most notably the sprinkler-tea-making, poop-eating-dog-having woman who constantly blames her alarming lack of basic health knowledge on local government; and the “except for Turnip! Except for Turnip!” chanting guy who is a favourite in our household. But no, Ann had a legitimate complaint about a pit into which her boyfriend had recently fallen, a pit whose betterment would form the main goal of the show’s first (and worst) season.

The fact that Ann and Leslie got off to an antagonistic beginning makes it even more wonderful that they were able to become best friends, brilliantly subverting the cat fight trope that most other sitcoms would have gone with. Throughout the series Ann and Leslie have butted heads, but always remained respectful of each other, and their relationship is one of the best examples of female friendship in pop culture today. It is real, and it is lovely, and it is one of the two main purposes I believe the character of Ann serves on the show.

The other purpose, which was used brilliantly in the second season and half of the third, was as a kind of “only sane man” counterpoint to the Parks and Rec department (for what I hope should be obvious reasons, the “only sane man” trope will be from hereon out referred to as “only reasonable person,” or ORP). As the only main character not working at City Hall, Ann was able to provide a lens through which your average viewer could watch the story unfold, and I believe that in the capacity of ORP she prevented the writers from making the world they had created too insulated and self-referential. The show is a successful satire in part because it never gets too carried away or too cartoon-y. Making fun of local government isn’t entertaining if only people who work in local government get the jokes.

Until the arrival of the state auditors in season three, Ann perfectly fulfilled the role of ORP. However, gradually Ben began to usurp that role, with his Jim Halpert-esque glances into the camera, and his total confusion over the appeal of Li’l Sebastian (“he just whinnied!”). Even though he worked at City Hall, Ben was more of an outsider than Ann – he’s not from Pawnee, after all. This easily set up Ann’s transition to actually working at City Hall, which makes it easier to explain why she is always there, but takes away a vital aspect of her character’s purpose.

I still believe Ann should be on the show because, like I said, her relationship with Leslie is pretty much the best thing on TV right now. But I find it somewhat ironic that a character who is part of such a feminist depiction of female relationships – that manages to be both aspirational and realistic – is so utterly two-dimensional that it seems she is only on the show to fill that role. Part of this could be due to Rashida Jones’ questionable acting talent (you have to admit she is the weak link in an otherwise phenomenal cast), but mostly I believe it is a rare lazy tendency on the part of the writers. Now that she is no longer the ORP, what is the point of Ann? Why can’t they seem to flesh her out a little?

One of my main issues with the portrayal of Ann is in her romantic relationships, which alternately make me cringe, and bore me to tears. The Mark-and-Ann (“Anndanowitz”) arc of season two was so dull I wanted to leave the room every time they were onscreen. Ditto Chris and Ann, who had zero sexual tension, and whose only moment of interest came about a week after they broke up, when Ann finally found out (and honestly, the best part of that storyline came from Leslie reciting the horrible ways in which various men have called it off with her).

The flipside of the boredom is the cringing. Andy and Ann were terrible together, a fact which the show (and pretty much every character in it) has at least had the decency to acknowledge. The whole concept of Ann being attracted to Andy because she needs someone to take care of is so played out, and it was great to see the writers just stick that whole mess on a shelf and get Andy and April together, because they are a) a way better match, and b) adorable.

And then there’s Ann and Tom. Holy crap, is this a bad idea or what? It’s all the cringe-worthy grossness of Ann and Andy, all the boredom of Mark and Ann, and about the same amount of chemistry as Ann and Chris. Minus a million. First of all, Ann has never shown anything but contemptuous tolerance (is that a thing?) for Tom since the beginning. His maturity level alone is enough to tell her that he’s not worth her time. Earlier in the series, any time Tom hit on Ann it was so clearly a joke, I don’t think any fan of the show would ever be cheering for these two to get together. What possible madness seized the writers’ room and made them think this was a good idea?

There have been a couple of great moments of Ann calling Tom out on his custom-hats, waiting-in-the-rain bullshit, but no moments at all that would indicate that Ann is even interested in being with Tom. In the recent episode “Sweet Sixteen” they had a perfect set up to end it – ie they both realized the numerous reasons they were incompatible – but inexplicably got back together at the end of the episode in a dialogue we weren’t even shown, probably because the writers didn’t know how to write it, because what would they say?

Ann: Hey we aren’t compatible at all and I kinda don’t even like you. Your constant objectification of me and lack of respect for my basic humanity tend to somehow make both of us less appealing.

Tom: Yeah. Oh well, what else do you have going on?

Ann: Apparently nothing. Let’s ride this out.

I mean, seriously. Many people seem ready to give this otherwise terrific show the benefit of the doubt, but I’ve already had enough of waiting for Ann’s storylines to appeal to me. And the line at the end of the record studio episode where Ann agrees to go out with Tom, saying that he “wore [her] down,” would have made me quit on a less consistently feminist show. That shit is not cool.

In my (obviously super correct and valuable) opinion, Ann needs to be a lot more three-dimensional before her storylines are all taken up with relationship plots, much like in life how relationships always work out better when you’re cool with yourself first. As a viewer, I would like to care as deeply about Ann as I do about Leslie (and let me tell you something, that is pretty deeply) before I will care about how she fares in a relationship with some dude.

On the flip side of that, I need Tom’s ridiculous antics to be something we are supposed to laugh at; not something that is validated by relationships with women who are way too good for him. And we all know that Ann is probably way too good for Tom; we just need the story to show us that. Otherwise what message are we supposed to take from what used to be the most progressive show on TV?

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Peggy Cooke is a Canadian feminist who works as a non-profit staffer by day and a reproductive justice rabble rouser by… later that same day. Her resume has been described as “fascinating.” She writes about abortion at Anti-Choice is Anti-Awesome and Abortion Gang, and she reviews fiction set in Toronto at Smoke City Stories.