Thoughts on Formula and Character

I've lately become a huge fan of Law & Order: Criminal Intent. I like the twists and surprises and I find D'Onforio incessantly amusing.

However, I've reached Season 3, and I've begun to notice a problem: the formula is too constricting.

Now, I'm a big fan of formula. I think formula is great. Was it Aristole who said something about an expected narrative outcome giving us cathartic release? Or was that someone else? Anyway, I think the classic narrative structure + genre formula is possibly one of the most enchanting literary creations known to writers . . . and whatever literary types like to say, it will never go away or be supplanted or be replaced.

What I mean by formula, as opposed to the narrative arc, is when set-up, climax, and resolution follow a typical pattern. Mysteries are formulaic. Romances are formulaic. Action movies are formulaic. The same types of things happen at the same point in the narrative arc. Some people will argue that House is formulaic (they are probably right).

Take the original Law & Order (before Moriarty left, and I stopped watching): opening scenes present some kind of crime; detectives investigate for 20-30 minutes; D.A.'s office takes over for 20-30 minutes. Same thing every week and, after awhile, very similar crimes since there are only so many mystery cases under the sun.

Humans are capable of infinite variety, however (which is why writers plunder the newspapers so often), and this is where formula is saved from tediousness. So long as the particulars vary, the formula is a useful tool rather than a constricting jacket (yes, I just mixed my metaphors). In the original Law & Order, the court cases, however similar in terms of argument (how many times can we explain "fruit of the poison tree"?), were differentiated by their individual nature: this week we are dealing with the Mafia; next week, it will be two lovers; next week, a family freud. And not just any lovers or any family freud--a particular set of lovers; a particular family freud. (I confess, I can't distinguish between Mafia episodes: not my favorite subject.)

Thus, the end of the episode (usually in the court room or D.A.'s office) can end in a variety of ways: guilt, innocence, plea bargaining, retribution, our heroes mulling over themes as variable as parental influence or sanity versus insanity.

There is variation within the formula.

Likewise, although a House episode almost always ends with House's epiphany, the particulars that led up to the epiphany vary, and what House gleans from the epiphany also varies. House himself also changes.

This brings us to Criminal Intent, Season 3. The formula for Criminal Intent is a crime is committed, Goren and Eames investigate, three or four twists ensue, Goren confronts the bad guy and delivers a monologue.

The last is the problem. Because Goren is the focus of the show, the emphasis is on the monologue, not the uniqueness of the case; the monologue from one week could be easily transferred to the next or to the one after. Nothing new is added to Goren's understanding or the audience's understanding of Goren.

I think this does a disservice to D'Onforio, but for the purposes of this post, what interests me is the problem of variation within formula: change within structure. Too much change and the show runs the risk of turning into a soap opera and/or self-imploding (Buffy, for instance). Too little change or variation and the formula strangles the elements within the show that keep people watching.

Frankly, I don't know where the tip-over point comes or how writers an avoid it. I think one solution is to write organically which I'm sure has been said before! Organic writing means that plot outcomes rise naturally from the plot particulars. One reason I enjoy House so much is because the writers are just so darn good; it's a pleasure to watch such effortless writing at work. What makes it good (and effortless, supposedly) is this business of organic writing. Whatever occurs, the characters respond not as the writers need them to respond but as the characters would "naturally" respond. Yet the writers never lose control over the unwinding plot.

I say "naturally" respond because in real life, people do things out of character all the time. Linear time being what it is, new challenges and problems and just old age continually demand from us new reactions. I don't think people ever react completely out of character, in the sense that they turn themselves into something they are not. But there isn't always an internal consistency (last week, she got mad at a student; she has to get mad at her students every week!).

However, good writing does need internal consistency. I became aware of this lately while reading a romance novel (romance novels vary tremendously in terms of writing skill). In this particular novel, the main character--heroine--behaved however the writer needed her to in any given situation. If the writer needed the heroine to be suddenly bold and demanding, by golly, she was bold and demanding. If the writer needed the heroine to be shy and uncertain, yup, there's that shy and uncertain woman. In real life, that does happen: a bold person can be shy in certain circumstances. In a novel format, it's just confusing. After awhile, I started to think the hero should start packing his bags (hint: she's a psycho, man).

Most of this is just bad writing: I got the impression, that the book was written while the author was attending a writing class. Members of the class read a certain passage and said to the aspiring author, "You know, I think you should make the villain a little more human--people aren't all bad, you know. Give him some depth here." So, the author gave him one line of depth, which promptly disappeared for the next 150 pages.

This is simply an inability to pay-off one's set-up. Or to recognize that sometimes, a villain should just be a villain, and your writing buddies are idiots.

Still, even with good writers, I think the problem of organic growth versus necessary formula poses a problem. And if I knew how to solve it, well, maybe I'd make a million bucks. Or maybe I'd just be one more writer with good unpublished stuff!

WRITING

Prince Caspian: Review

This review contains spoilers.

I confess to preferring the recent film version of Prince Caspian to its companion piece The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I love it because, frankly, watching male testosterone self-implode on-screen is hugely entertaining not to mention charismatic.

The movie makes some large, but still consistent, changes from the book, mostly to get the Pevensies in contact with Prince Caspian sooner (in the book, they don't show up until the very, very end). Another of the changes is that the story centers around Peter rather than Lucy or Caspian. Unlike the level-headed Peter of the book, movie Peter is hot-headed and tired of being treated like a kid: he's just bursting with testosterone!

And when he shows up in Narnia, his reluctance to listen to Lucy is much less the careful deliberations of a grown man and much more the knee jerk reactions of an adolescent/adult man who thinks he is losing control of a situation: yup, Peter is THAT guy who won't stop and ask for directions. (By the way, to kill a stereotype, I never do either.)

And when he meets Caspian, he immediately takes over. The first time I saw the movie, I wasn't entirely convinced that Caspian (played by Ben Barnes with a delectable accent) would give way so easily. I mean, the guy is over 18! But I think the movie does a good job showing that Caspian has been sat on so much by his uncle—who has also sent away any of Caspian's real supporters—Caspian doesn't really know how to take charge. And I'm very grateful, by the way, that movie Caspian is over 18; I don't mind child actors, but I found the baby-faced Caspian of the BBC version to be fairly annoying.

The emotional problem of the movie is pride, specifically testosterone-laden male pride. Now, I'm no establishment feminist. I adore testosterone-laden male pride: makes for some darn fine movies. And I like Caspian because the problem of male pride is not solved by "feminizing" the hormone-rampaging males. It is solved, rather, through multiple options (as opposed to tunnel "I do know how to get there" insistence), Edmund's discernment and prompt action, and the combat between Miraz and Peter where Peter's aggression is channeled into a useful and probable resolution. Politics, as Caspian knows, is a far more effective weapon against Miraz than battle: the Narnians simply don't have the manpower.

Which brings us to Miraz's court: I love it! It is so . . . Godfatherish. And I don't especially like the Godfather movies. But I love how sneaky and conspiratorial the Telmarine court is. I love the power plays. I love the badness of Miraz, not, again, because I typically like Mafia-type movies but because his badness, in typical Lewis fashion, is so human; the actions of his subordinates are so clever and so evil in such a mundane, human way. And yes, all the stuff that's in the movie about Miraz is in the book.

My brother comments in one of his posts, "And, to be honest, I do find women to be infinitely more interesting creatures than men" in part because fiction about women focuses on "how real people--specifically women--actually relate to each other in the real world" and "revolve mainly around the evolution and devolution of friendships." I suppose I find testosterone-laden male tribulations fascinating for a similar reason: because of the birds' eye view not of evolution and devolution, necessarily, but of adaptation. If Camille Paglia is right and women are fundamentally more earthy and cyclical while men are fundamentally more idealistic and goal-completion-oriented, watching idealistic, goal-oriented men adjust to our very non-idealistic, repetitive world is, well, rather like watching wild animals in a zoo: bizarrely fascinating. If that metaphor seems offensive, try--like watching matadors buying pizza in Brooklyn.

When the adjustment is more or less successful, at least. When it isn't, it's just kind of sad, but then watching women de-evolve themselves out of relationships bores me silly. No matter the gender, I prefer construction to destruction, but that's another post!

For another take on Caspian, my brother's review can be read on his blog.

MOVIES

Bleak House, Part 1

I just finished Disc 1 (five episodes) of the 15-episode Bleak House series. This is the first time I've understood why Dickens was so popular. I am completely hooked. Who are Esther's parents? Will anyone inherit? (No, I say.) Who is going to get killed? Someone's going to get killed; I hope it's not the street sweeper. Will Richard and Ada get married? (Not a good idea, I'd tell her.) Who will end up marrying Esther? Is Guppy a bad guy or a good guy? Who on earth is Lady Deadlock's sister? Is there a sister? And who's going to get those letters????

And on and on.

I'm so obsessed, I dream about it! This is why I don't watch soap operas although, to be fair, Bleak House is way more interesting than your average soap opera. Something actually happens in every episode!

Gillian Anderson is great, by the way. For a single scene in the second episode, she suddenly adopts a strong British accent. Now, Anderson was born in England and lives there now, but after that single aberration (maybe that was the first scene filmed?), she has spoken "Scully" the majority of the time--crisp tones that are almost accent-less. I love it! It's so in-your-face refined. Which isn't to say I associate her character with Scully although I admit to a wish that David Duchovny would make a cameo appearance. Everybody else has! And can I say that Nathaniel Parker has truly impressed me as the bumbling guest; now, is he a good guy or a bad guy? I thought I knew, but I'm not sure now. Don't tell me! I actually want to figure it out all by myself.

What with all the uncertain, ambiguous, and villainous lawyers (and isn't Charles Dance magnificent?!), I feel like I'm watching The Screwtape Letters: Tulkinghorn is Screwtape. Luckily, he is one of the few obviously unpleasant people in the piece. I'm not certain about anybody else, even John Jarndyce, which makes me nervous. Speaking of John Jarndyce, there's some major manipulation going in his relationships with his wards.

Some of that manipulation involves Ricky, but to be honest, I find Ricky so annoying, I don't much care if he is being manipulated or not. Perhaps my job gives me a suffeit of 20-years-old boys who don't know what to do with their lives, but I keep going, "Oh, kick him out on his ear" whenever Ricky makes another lame excuse about his future.

Back to the lawyers: this Christmas I read a book about A Christmas Carol. The author made the argument that Dickens may have lambasted lawyers and debt collectors, but he identified with Scrooge more than with Tiny Tim et al. Dickens was constantly aware of money: when it was coming in, who owed it, who wasn't repaying it, who was forcing him to lend it. Part of him wished he wasn't so aware and like all good writers, he tried to exorcise his impulses through his writing. He failed, but, as Wimsey says in Gaudy Night, "What does it matter if it hurts if it makes a good book?"

So my appreciation for Dickens has increased. And so has my appreciation for the BBC which makes it possible for me to appreciate Dickens without actually having to read him!

TV

Would the Real Mrs. Columbo Please Stand Up?

In 1979, Kate Mulgrew (Captain Janeway for you Voyager fans) created the role of Mrs. Columbo on a show of the same name. The show lasted for two seasons.

Now, I admired Kate Mulgrew, and I think she makes a fine Captain Janeway, but as Mrs. Columbo . . . she just wasn't right.

Granted, Mrs. Columbo is something of a enigma. Columbo constantly makes references to his wife, but it is hard to know how many of his references are based on actual fact and how many are simply used to put his suspects at ease. Nevertheless, there are a few "real" encounters that give us an idea of Mrs. Columbo.

First, whenever Columbo calls, she is never home. Usually another member of the family answers the phone. Where is Mrs. Columbo? Out looking for flea market bargains or at a movie with one of her numerous family members. All this gives the impression that Mrs. Columbo is a bit of a go-getter, an energetic ball of fire.

This impression is furthured when Mrs. Columbo and Columbo go on a cruise. She's always off to see a show or to see sites on the mainland. The cruise episode also gives us some insight into the marriage. When Columbo gets lost on the ship (lending support to the idea that Columbo is sometimes as scattered as he appears), he calls the room. "I don't know where the hell I am," he says bemusedly. His tone is neither that of the hen-pecked husband nor the blustering husband. It is the tone of one companion to another--hey, you know what my weird life is like, help me out.

This easy-going tone gives credence to Columbo's claim that he discusses his cases with his wife, and she gives him good guidance So Mrs. Columbo is not only a go-getter but a pretty sharp cookie.

Kate Mulgrew's Mrs. Columbo is a go-getter, but she's a Captain Janeway type of go-getter: very WASPy and goal-oriented. Columbo, on the other hand, creates a picture of his wife as less goal-oriented and more a thousand-irons-in-the-fire kind of a chick. Less corporate, more bohemian. Less concentrated ambition, more holy-rolling "are we having fun yet" extrovert. She cooks, and she shops, and she makes pottery, and she likes movie stars and traveling and . . .

I personally picture her as a small (shorter than Columbo) Italian woman--kind of like Rhea Perlman.

I think Mrs. Columbo (1979) was a worthwhile concept, but it needed, well, Rhea Perlman to really pay off. If it were to be done now, I would tweak the concept a bit. Kate Mulgrew had Mrs. Columbo be a part-time working mother: a reporter with one daughter (I think the existence of other children is implied). Frankly, there have been enough shows about reporter-detectives and forensic-detectives and just plain old detectives. It's time for the revival of Miss Marple--Italian mama style!

I would portray Mrs. Columbo as a tightly wound, very funny, little Italian woman who doesn't work (which doesn't mean she's home any more than if she did). She's always hauling her kids off places or running out to shop with her numerous siblings and every time she does, she encounters a crime! Mrs. King, only less spies and more murder.

It's time for the return of the domestic female detective!

TV

C.S. Lewis & Theoretical Determinism

In Through the Wardrobe, a book of essays about the Chronicles of Narnia, Lisa Papademetriou worries about C.S. Lewis's possible racist tendencies. This is in reference, specifically, to Lewis' treatment of Calormen society. Although I disagree with the charge, I can understand people who get uncomfortable or worried about seeming stereotypes of Arab culture. I always dislike when people stereotype others, including well-known fantasy and science-fiction authors.

To be fair, Papademetriou's essay "In the Kingdom of Calormen" is well-balanced. Papademetriou makes the excellent point that Lewis wanted story, especially the atmosphere of a story, to stand out in the reader's mind. He did this by relying on allusions. Allusions are not the same as stereotypes--stereotypes, I would argue, are the assumptions a writer presses onto a person or culture while allusions leave the door open for the reader's own knowledge/beliefs of a person or culture. (The difference can reside on a fine line.)

Papademetriou points out that Lewis "wanted readers to respond to his writing with their guts, not their minds. He often chose characters and settings that felt familiar in order to let the readers fill in the blanks with their own associations [such as One Thousand and One Nights]." However, she later makes a rather odd turnabout when she claims that since Lewis obviously thinks Calormen culture is completely corrupt, how could he create Emeth, who is honorable and not at all corrupt? By her own argument, however, the image of Calormen nobles as cultured and honorable would be part of the associations that Lewis relied on.

Papademetriou seems to have been caught not by environmental determinism but by theoretical determinism which is a tangled web indeed. Theoretical determinism is the way higher academic types (not Papademetriou) can feel superior about their education without acknowledging that feeling superior is one of those things that gets Western civilization into trouble in the first place (and without considering that Western civilization might actually have something to feel superior about). Theoretical determinism states that an Edwardian, Oxford (Christian) don writing in the 1950's MUST be sexist and racist (no matter what he says) and, therefore, his sexist/racist ideas MUST have been incorporated into his writing (no matter what the critics say) and his readers MUST be infected by those ideas (not matter what they say). It's an easy way to win an argument and almost impossible to refute, as Papademetriou seems to have discovered. (Theoretical determinists of this ilk never seem to wonder if they, at some future date, will be considered just as backward and unhealthy as the writers and thinkers they criticize.)

There is something to be said for Lewis being a product of his time. There is a great deal to be said for Lewis producing such a tough, responsible, intelligent female Calormen character. And, too, there is something to be said for Lewis being trained to see the Arab world from a very, very medieval point of view.

There is also a great deal to be said for modern-day theoretical determinists seeing stuff that simply isn't there.

When I read the Chronicles as a child, I did not make any connection between Calormen and Arabs. I grew up in the 1980's--my view of Arab culture, if anyone had bothered to ask, would have been fairly bland. If hard-pressed, I probably could have come up with "Islam," possibly "oil" and, once I reached college, "Kuwait." But I did not automatically associate Arab culture with terrorists (although I knew some terrorists were Arabs). Soviets were supposed to be the big scare of the 80's; since I grew up with no worries at all on that score (despite James Bond), I can't say I was ever all that susceptible to, or interested in, making theoretical connections between fictional characters and real life groups or people (I'm still not).

Neither did I assume from The Horse and His Boy that the entire Calormen culture was corrupt. Blame it on the libertarianism of my parents and siblings, but I treated the individual encounter between Aravis and Shasta as an individual encounter, rather than a theoretical cultural encounter. I never assumed (or thought that Lewis meant me to assume) that because Shasta's owner was a horrible human being, all Calormen fishermen were horrible human beings. Or that because the leaders of Calormen were obsequious and self-serving, all Calormens were obsequious and self-serving.

What I did pick up on was Lewis' loathing for a particularly type of relationship, one built on flattery, self-degredation, and entitlement (rather than merit). Oh, yes, I picked up on that! And yes, he attaches those qualities to the uppity-ups in Calormen society. He also attaches those qualities to Miraz and Miraz' cohorts. He also occasionally attaches those qualities to our heroes and heroines. (The worst, and most redeemed, character in these terms is Edmund. The second worst is Eustace.)

Lewis also discusses these qualities in his autobiography. In what place, out of all possible places, did Lewis find these hateful qualities in truly mind-numbing quantity?

English boys' schools.

Although his brother did well in all-male public boarding schools, Lewis-- well, "loathed" isn't quite strong enough to describe Lewis' feelings towards his public school experience. He describes his feelings in-depth in his autobiography. He also, in typical Lewis fashion, attempts to be objective, but the pen sure is struggling.

And yet, I've never heard of anyone, other than Warnie (Lewis' brother), arguing that C.S. Lewis made unfair comments about or had racist/sexist/classist attitudes towards English public boarding schools. There may be some anti-Lewis die-hards somewhere making those arguments, but in general, his intense dislike of public schools has not alerted any theoretical determinists.

Granted, English public boarding schools are usually on the end of the "stick to beat them with" of thereotical determinism. But if I can see Lewis struggling to be objective with a situation he loathed and yet perceive no insidious ideas in a book which he loved, I can't help but wonder how much racism and sexism theoretical determinists are bringing to C.S. Lewis. Why do they need racism/sexism to be there so badly? And what exactly are they discovering when they find it?

BOOKS

The Brooders

In her essay about Edmund, "King Edmund the Cute: Anatomy of a Girlhood Crush," Diane Peterfreund explains why Edmund is her favorite of the Narnian heroes. He's mine too (like Diane, the fan fiction I wrote about Narnia involved Edmund), and I agree with Peterfreund's perspective. She points out that Edmund qualifies as a bad boy, but what makes him appealing is that he is a reformed bad boy: a bad boy who made good and has used his bad boy past to gain insight into himself and others. (In response to my brother Eugene's post about Anne of Green Gables and Twilight, I should mention that Peterfreund does dismiss Peter as date-worthy since "while Edmund is logical, clever, understanding, damaged, grave, and quiet, Peter is just perfect. Perfect is boring." He isn't so perfect in the movies--gotta have that internal conflict!--but yes, he is in the books; I think Lewis created Peter as the King Arthur figure of Narnia.)

Despite his bad boy past, Peterfreund points out, "Edmund . . . seemed [to me] to have pulled it together. He may have been somewhat graver than Peter, but he was still a cheerful guy, overall." In other words, he isn't a brooder.

Totally!

But that got me thinking. I agree with Peterfreund in principle--brooders are a total cliche and sooo boring! But do I agree with her in fact? I decided to go through shows (and books) that I like and list the brooders:

Brooder #1: Angel

I have to admit, Angel is a brooder, and I like Angel, but I think much of Angel's broodiness is undercut by Whedon's humor, not to mention Boreanaz's interpretation. Personally, Angel always struck me less as brooding guy and more as intensely introverted guy (which, considering Boreanaz's current alter-ego, the totally extroverted Booth, is fairly impressive). Angel doesn't say much, sure, but I mostly put that down to grumpy guy who lived through the Depression syndrome ("I'm not cheap," Angel says on Angel, "I'm old.") There's a scene in "Earshot" where Buffy, who can now hear people's thoughts, comes to Angel's house to see if she can "hear" him. After following Angel around his house for several minutes, he finally says, kindly but bemusedly, "You can't hear my thoughts. Why don't you just ask me?" Not exactly brooder behavior.

Still, he does brood more than Spike, who seems to brood mostly in spurts.

Brooder #2: House

Granted, House is a class-1 brooder. Again, however, the brooding is undercut by the writing. "You don't have Asperger's," Wilson tells him. "You'd like to, but you don't." And House is always exposing his psyche to people who will not take his brooding seriously or, at least, will point out its absurdity. This makes House's brooding tolerable.

Brooder #3: Hamlet

Personally, I've always preferred the Mel Gibson action-hero version to Launcelot Olivier's blond, swooning prince. I can't speak to Branagh's version. The movie is interesting, but I've never been exactly sure what Branagh was trying to do with Hamlet.

Brooders #4: The English Detectives

I quite like Wimsey who, like House, seems to deliberately act against his own broodiness, but--sorry, PBS mystery fans!--I can't stand Morse, and Lynley gives me a headache. So much angst!! So much melancholy!! Just pull out the violins already: *sigh.*

Brooder #5: Sidney Carlton

When I was in high school, us arty types swooned over Sidney Carlton, the sarcastic, brooding anti-hero of Tale of Two Cities. I think I would find him rather tiresome now; I certainly found the hero of A Separate Peace tiresome (maybe it was just the book). However, I did quite like Lord Jim. But not Ethan Frome. So apparently, I'm an all-American girl: sure, my heroes can brood, but they have got to DO STUFF while they are brooding.

Brooders #6: Mulder & Edward Rochester

Who can forget Mulder?! Mulder is definitely a brooder, but he has the happy accident of being a nutsy brooder. Also, like many of the brooders I have already praised, he is both funny and active. He ACTS. Also, like Edward Rochester (Jane Eyre), he spends his time brooding on one particular problem, at least for the time period that we know him. The brooding has purpose and seems to be less "I'm such a jerk" oriented and more "other people have made my life miserable let's get them!" oriented. Watching a man brood about himself is far less interesting than watching a man brood about an issue.

Brooders #7: The Women

Yup, women can brood too! Buffy springs to mind although, overall, Buffy is thankfully upbeat (yes, I'm ignoring Season 6). Seven-of-Nine doesn't brood since she belongs to the "I don't like it, I kill it" mode of dealing with problems. B'Elanna, similar to Seven in make-up, broods but in moderation, and Tom is very good at handling her broods.

So I'm not completely opposed to brooders, but I do have a healthy love of the ordinary guy who doesn't brood at all, such as Xander (Buffy), Dave (News Radio), Charles Parker (Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries), almost the entire cast of both Stargates (especially O'Neill and Sheppard), Greg (Dharma & Greg) and Columbo.

And I like the non-brooding gals too: Cuddy (House) (maybe that's why I like Amber--she doesn't brood); Carter (Stargate); Monk's assistants (yes, I am excusing Monk as a brooder--he does brood, but there's just so much else going on in the guy's life, the brooding kind of gets lost); Dharma (D&G), and of course, Scully (who is allowed her occasional brood, considering her circumstances, such as--eh hem--her partner).

Conclusion:

So brooding isn't always a turn-off, so long as the brooder has humor, does something about the brooding, and gets over it (now and again). And the brooding is especially tolerable if the brooder is off-set by healthy, upbeat, kind, cool people.

TV

House's Muses

I am now in the middle of Season 4 of House. It is a wonderful season; the Wilson-Amber relationship is paying-off even better than I expected (yes, I do know what happens; yes, I do refer to the season ending in this post).

I have been impressed by how (relatively) distinct House's new team is from the old team. Relatively--they come off a bit flat in the middle of the season, but I put this down to the writers' strike. House seasons usually contain two arcs: the main arc at the beginning of the season followed by a bunch of loose episodes followed by a small arc at the end of the season. Season 4 skips straight from main arc to small arc. All the get-to-know-them-better episodes are missing which makes the distinctiveness of the new team doubly impressive.

Having said that, I think the new team members fulfill similar roles to the old team members: House needs certain types of people around him.

Taub/Foreman Role

First, House needs someone who will disagree with him. As Dobson (played by the marvelous Carmen Argenziano--Carter's dad for you Stargate fans) points out, House doesn't need someone to tell him what he thinks. Rather, House needs the stimulus of a hard logical mind that comes at problems from a different perspective than his own. This is one reason House gets so annoyed with Foreman's "que sera sera" attitude in Season 2. House wants conflict because conflict enhances his ability to process a problem.

Cameron/Thirteen Role

Setting aside the fact that both Cameron and Thirteen are beautiful women (and, as House discovers in the hilarious Ugly, he does prefer his female doctors to be pretty and smart), Cameron and Thirteen force House to consider psychological explanations as part of the diagnosis. Cameron is more of a people-person than Thirteen; Thirteen possesses a remoteness that Cameron would like to have but simply doesn't. Still, Thirteen, like Cameron, is apt to ponder "why" when it comes to a patient.

Basically, Thirteen and Cameron are Wilson, and House needs Wilson. House may loathe psychiatrists, he may mock Wilson's psychoanalyzing, but he wants the pressure to understand a patient's mindset, not just a patient's physical health. (One of the best indications of this is in Season 1, "Kids," when House realizes that Cameron would have learned about bathing-suit-girl's relationships long before Foreman, Chase, or House.)

Chase/Kutner Role

Chase has always been one of my favorites. I think he adds a nice, occasionally deadpan, contrast to Foreman's ambition and Cameron's preoccupation with House. I could never understand, though, what led House to hire Chase in the first place (he was the first person hired of the old team).

Kutner's selection made Chase's selection clear. Both Chase and Kutner are odd men out: they have interests that lie beyond medicine--interests, in fact, that make them immune to good doctoring (and sometimes prone to bad doctoring, as when Chase misses a diagnosis while in emotional shock--an event House takes responsibility for). In Season 1, when Chase betrays House, he does it to save his job, not his reputation. Unlike Foreman and Cameron, he isn't a natural diagnostician, but he becomes a very good doctor under House's aegis and would probably make a fantastic GP. But, ultimately, the job doesn't run Chase. Once he falls in love with Cameron, for instance, he is perfectly willing to go where Cameron goes, not to the best position. This lack of ambition, oddly enough, gives him the capacity to walk away from House's games in Season 4 more than Foreman and Cameron.

Likewise, Kutner likes danger, blowing things up, magic, and secret Santas--non-medical things. Like Chase, he has a wryness that makes him more attune to House's humor. (Kutner also has a gentle guilelessness about him that makes him extremely appealing.)

I think House needs a Chase/Kutner for the same reason House needs clinic duty (no matter how much he resists it). Foreman/Taub may think differently than House. Cameron/Thirteen may go down roads he would prefer to ignore (but knows he can't). Nevertheless, for Foreman/Taub/Cameron/Thirteen and for House, medicine--the case, the patient, the solution--is the controlling interest. For Chase/Kutner, it isn't. House needs this. He needs not just his mirror-self but his non-self.

The result, at least between House and Chase, is a subtle sweetness that House really only shares with Wilson. Chase is the first person House "sees" in Season 4. When Chase shows up in surgery, the potential team members ask, "Are you going to hire him?" Instead of making one of his snarky replies, House glances up at Chase in the observation booth. Chase shakes his head, an almost imperceptible but distinct motion; then, House makes his snarky comment. He allows Chase to make the decision, rather than forcing his decision on Chase--not something he commonly does with Foreman or Cameron.

Not that Chase and House could be friends. Chase isn't Wilson. But there's a purely human, non-doctorly element to their relationship that is missing from House's other relationships. Time will only tell if he establishes the same rapport with Kutner.

I think House's team member choices explain, to an extent, why he is so much fun to watch. I've been surprised by how much I like Amber, House's other-self--even before she started dating Wilson! There was something refreshing, even amusing, about her complete ruthlessness, her desire to pursue her interests at all costs. House has this quality plus another that Amber, cut down in the prime of life, lacks: he wants to be stimulated, he wants to think outside the box, he wants to be shown a different mindset; he even, sometimes, wants to be wrong. He may be arrogant, obnoxious, condescending, and a thorough jerk, but his willingness to test himself, constantly, against different selves excuses many of those flaws.

And makes him devilishly fun to watch.

TV