Monica and Chandler’s pallid marriage

Given the release of Friends on Netflix, it seems inevitable that many, myself included, have re-watched the much-loved, and retrospectively maligned sitcom. Of course, much has already been written about the series’ attitude toward gender roles and homosexuality, and I myself have written on the questionable nature of Ross and Rachel’s apparent aspirational relationship. Now my viewing has reached the ninth season (the one in which Monica and Chandler begin trying for a baby after the birth of Emma) it is becoming increasingly apparent that the writer’s simply didn’t know what to do with Monica and Chandler after they have married.

A quick google of Monica and Chandler brings up countless articles and lists in which the pair’s relationship is consistently referred to with the positive moniker ‘couple’s goals’. Certainly, on the surface the relationship, one which originates from years of friendship before converting into romance, is admirable. Initially, the pair truly respect one another and know every facet of each other. Their relationship, being borne from so many years of friendship, is one that is rooted in equal and positive dynamics. Thus, the early days of their relationship, during the time in which they felt compelled to keep the changing nature of their friendship secret, is one that is rooted in both attraction and excitement. The pair regularly employs tactics to avoid detection but ultimately fail due to their all-consuming passion and desire for each other.

Such chemistry is long forgotten by the time season 9 arrives, and indeed long before that. The pair, when hoping to conceive a child, perform the physical side of their relationship in an entirely perfunctory manner. Following an argument, after Monica discovers that Chandler has smoked, Monica and Chandler angrily place restrictions on the act: ‘no kissing your neck’, ‘good I hate it when you do that’. The fact that the pair, who by this point have been together for several years, don’t seem to know what pleases each other is notable. The scene is played for laughs, with Chandler retaliating with the line ‘and lots of kissing your neck’, but the response, rather than sparking a conversation between the two, simply highlights that their previously passionate relationship is one that has become entirely staid with little pleasure.

The power dynamics between the two is, when watching the episodes in quick succession as I have done, rather startingly in its change. Previously, Monica and Chandler appeared to respect one another, asking for advice and discussing issues at length. Later, when Chandler is working in Tulsa, Monica readily stays In New York for a job opportunity (to which, rather positively, Chandler gives his blessing to) and quickly forgets the very presence of her husband. The group sitting in the coffee house sans Chandler, remind Monica that Chandler is not currently present when she refers to everyone being present. Monica’s realisation again played for laughs, is to exclaim her shock and surprise, but not truly register the problem. Why then, is their relationship, one that started in such a positive way, so rapidly rendered as one without true understanding or respect. Why is it one that is perceived as aspirational by so many?

The series’ presentation of marriage, or a long-term relationship, is not wholly positive. Certainly, no such relationship is free from faults, but the manner in which the audience is encouraged to both accept and laugh at the state of Monica and Chandler’s relationship is questionable. Gone is the respect, and in its place, a relationship that relies on quips and apparent witticisms to demonstrate apparent contentment.

Friends: Ross and Rachel’s toxic relationship

 

I, like many others, have spent the last few weeks rewatching Friends on Netflix. In reality, this watching has largely consisted of hate-watching, as it becomes increasingly apparent that the series is even less-progressive than first recalled. Much has been written about the rampant homophobia that runs throughout the series, with references to sexuality regularly serving as an insult or a punchline. Much too, has been written about the series’ questionable representation of women in general. What has become most apparent in this period of rewatching is the toxic, and abusive nature of the series’ central relationship: Ross and Rachel. The status of this relationship, despite its breakdown in season three, runs throughout the ten seasons. Characters regularly revisit its demise, with Ross frequently proclaiming ‘we were on a break’ as an eternal defensive catchphrase. Audiences held, and still do hold, this relationship in such high esteem, that it is often perceived as a litmus test for relationships. Many fans believe that the difficulties the pair experience somehow result in a fulfilling outcome when the pair are eventually reunited.

It is strange then, given the regard for this relationship, that the dynamics are so questionable. Ross, always a selfish and irritating character, becomes positively tyrannical in his claim for Rachel’s affections. For Ross, his love, stemming from a childhood affection, validates his ownership of Rachel. From the very beginning of their burgeoning relationship, he holds little regard for Rachel or her feelings, seemingly more in love with the idea of Rachel than her as an individual.

Leaving for China, Ross proclaims that he is hopelessly in love with Rachel, yet readily returns with Julie. His love for Rachel, supposedly so pure, quickly disperses when he is reunited with a woman who returns his propositions. Yet, we are led to believe that Ross’ love and care for Rachel should be held in such high regard, that it is only right that he enters into a relationship with Rachel.

When they do finally embark upon this relationship, it seems to be a matter of minutes before Ross commits an act that undermines Rachel’s self-esteem and sense of self by creating a list of pros and cons, comparing Rachel and Julie. Rather than simply profess his love for Rachel, who he regularly insists on being a source of constant fascination for a number of years, he decides to logically decide which woman he should continue to be with. While he apologises to Rachel and tries to make it up to her on multiple occasions, it is not long before Ross, believing that he has made suitable recompense for his misdemeanour, begins to question why Rachel has not forgiven him yet. Essentially, Ross is able to manipulate and emotionally blackmail Rachel into entering a relationship, as she forgives him after watching a home video.

After Rachel begins a job, which she is passionate about, Ross immediately demonstrates his jealousy and desire to control. It is notable that Rachel’s decision to further her career by quitting her waitressing role at the coffee shop is one that is prompted by Chandler, not her apparently loving and supportive boyfriend. Given that Rachel regularly states her dislike of her job, and shows no enthusiasm for her role, it becomes noticeable that Ross has never discussed her career with her. Rachel’s career progression, made possible by her friendship with future co-worker Mark, merely presents itself to Ross as a means through which he may lose Rachel.

When she begins her role, he goes to great lengths to reassert his dominance. When speaking to Mark he pointedly states his relationship and status, remarking that he is Ross ‘as in Ross and Rachel’ implying that Rachel should only be known in relation to him. Rachel remarks that she likes being a separate, individual at work, and enjoys the freedom this awards, yet Ross continually invades her own space, arriving at work unannounced, sending her a myriad of hyperbolic romantic tokens that take over her desk leaving her unable to work. It would appear that Ross preferred Rachel as a waitress when her job role left her easily accessible (with the group regularly visiting the coffee shop while Rachel is working), and less ambitious. Early on in their relationship, she discovers that he has already determined the trajectory of their relationship, right down to the number of children they will have and where they will live. At no point does Rachel’s personal ambitions feature, nor her feelings and thoughts on the idea. Ross’ concept of their relationship is not one that invites discourse or discussion, but rather is an opportunity for him to mould and create a relationship that satisfies him, particularly given his past relationship with Carol.

After Ross’ infidelity, and Rachel’s subsequent decision to end their relationship, it is not long before Ross refers to Rachel’s decision as being ‘crazy’. He may have apologised initially, but to Ross, this apology should be enough to erase his lack of care and consideration. It’s entirely questionable then, that this controlling, and damaging relationship, is one that is still viewed by audiences as being one to aspire to. Even at the series’ end, Rachel is still compelled to leave behind her career, one that she professes to feeling inspired and excited by, in order to reunite with Ross.  Ross then eventually achieves his dream of having Rachel and a child with her. Yet Rachel has had to renege on her career aspirations and personal ambitions in order for Ross to achieve this. What is Rachel’s dream? Is this ever truly addressed, or considered? Viewers seemingly believe that Ross’ dream is Rachel’s too, but can any viewer really identify what her dream is?

Friends and the representation of women

Friends has arguably dated, and dated poorly. The series, released on Netflix this month, has once again attracted discussion regarding its representation of homosexuality in particular. While this subject has, quite rightly, attracted much discussion, the representation of gender, especially women, has not received the same attention. This discussion is entirely warranted, and needed, given the objective influence of the series. Such is the hyperreality of the series that viewers regularly view themselves through the lens of the characters, questioning which character they most resemble, or using the narrative of the series to influence the manner in which they interact within their own relationships.

When teaching English Language A Level, there was a specific clip from the series which was regularly used to demonstrate the supposed differences between gender and language. The clip regularly garnered both laughter, and recognition from students, with students genuinely believing that the clip represented an accurate depiction of the manner in which men and women interact, as well as view pivotal moments in relationships. While this may be true for some, the fact that the clip is often the starting point, rather then merely a reflection for the majority is concerning. Many viewers of a particular generation grew up watching the series, and indeed, viewed these gendered interactions and assumptions about relationships before they were in relationships themselves. Subsequently, then, the series has been viewed as a learning tool, encouraging the viewer to use the myriad of relationship difficulties depicted in the series as a model through which they can position their own.

This in itself is questionable enough, but the very depiction of the women in the series, particularly the three female leads, must be questioned. Each woman, despite her own identified independence, is ultimately diminished by the men around her. Each, forging their own successful career, is compelled to compromise both their original ideals and their own concept of their career.

Rachel for example, proving herself to be so successful within the fashion industry is offered a job in Paris. A role that she readily describes as both exciting and scary. Despite the potential of this role, she is, once propositioned by long-term romantic interest Ross, quick to return to New York. There is then little mention of her career prospects, suggestive that ultimately, it is family that is the ultimate goal.

This idea of family as being the true measure of success is echoed in both Monica and Phoebe. Monica’s life is deemed complete once she is able to adopt two babies. Her previous lack of success in conceiving a child with her husband is, seemingly for Monica, some marker that highlights her as lacking. The topic, of the difficulty in conceiving, is given little rumination and all suggestion of difficulty is quickly forgotten once the prospect of adoption is proffered. In earlier episodes Monica is regularly seen at work, forging a career as a successful chef, but as the series continues, these insights into her work seem more sporadic, suggesting that this is no longer important to Monica’s character development.

Similarly, Phoebe heralded as the quirky and eccentric member of the group who disdains convention becomes utterly conventional. In marrying Mike, Phoebe shows that her attempts at kookiness were entirely superficial. Her lifestyle, previously a defining feature of her character, is entirely uprooted. She struggles with spending money on her wedding and considers donating it to charity in order to help people who have had similar experiences to her. Rather rapidly, however, she is willing to use this money for her own means, decrying it as deserving considering her previous life. It is surely at this moment that Phoebe has consciously rejected her own nature, and instead, freely submits herself to convention and married life.

Each character, when comparing the first series to the last, is entirely unrecognisable. Of course, character change over the duration of a series, particularly one that has the duration of Friends but these characters have not merely naturally progressed, but rather rejected past incarnations of themselves arguably in order to submit to the men around them.

The fallacy of Friends

Much has been written about the problematic nature of Friends. Despite finishing in 2004, the influence and popularity of the series has hardly waned, and indeed, with its continued airing, the series has attracted a new, younger generation of fans who live vicariously through the characters.

The series is problematic for a myriad of reasons, and arguably, has little success in representing almost any demographic. Its reductive depiction of people of colour was highlighted towards the end of the series run, and the writers attempted, rather weakly, to address this with the inclusion of Charlie (Aisha Tyler) in season ten. The fact that this was the first time that such a character was included given both the setting and the narrative focus, is rather ridiculous. Similarly, its depiction of homosexuality, or rather, its professed perception of it is hugely questionable. Numerous YouTube videos are dedicated to highlighting the openly hostile and homophobic humour that underpinned much of the series.

Seeing a Twitter thread recently, which argued for a central Joey and Rachel relationship rather than Rachel and Ross, the impact and influence of the series upon viewer’s perception of romance cannot be underemphasised. This is a series that has impressed upon multiple generations a hyperbolic, idealised version of love and relationships. A series which has professed that romance must be declarative, and rigid in order to be deemed successful. The damaging nature of this fallacy can be seen in its audience’s devotion to this idyllic concept.

Friends created and consistently perpetuated a myth, a myth that in turn, has become a reality to aspire to for its impressionable viewership. An ideal that focused on relationships that were only complete if its characters could partake in witty banter, grand gestures and supposedly comic set pieces. Regardless of the questionable healthy status of these relationships they were, and continue to be held up as aspirational.

Take Monica and Chandler’s relationship, one which is borne out of friendship. Initially, the relationship is highlighted as passionate. One that is built on mutual respect for one another. However, as the series progresses, their clear disdain and fear of one another increases. Chandler’s lack of sexual prowess is frequently mocked, and Monica’s strict adherence to tidiness and cleanliness is enough to terrify Chandler’s with his less rigid habits. There is a running joke in which Chandler, having broken the couple’s wedding crockery, is secretly reinstating it, surreptitiously purchasing pieces to replace those which have smashed. The secrecy, and the implications of this, are held up as comedic, despite the clearly uneven dynamic between the two. Monica’s domineering attitude is presented as inducing hilarity, rather than being highlighted for what it truly is: a rather damaging and entirely questionable wielding of power.

Similarly, Rachel and Ross, whose relationship is arguably the central relationship throughout the series, is presented idealistically. Their relationship though, despite its popular perception, is torrid. Ross’ ambitions are deemed as more important than Rachel’s, and his decision to ask her to stay in New York rather than pursue her career is presented as the romantic solution. Ross never considers travelling to France with Rachel, and allowing her to develop professionally, despite his own lack of career progression. Indeed, insights into Ross’ teaching ability are held up for ridicule, and he is presented as being terrible at his job, whereas Rachel’s ability is consistently reinforced.

How then, have these relationships become so entrenched within popular culture? Why have they become the ideal to which its viewers aspire to? It seems bizarre that they are largely still presented unquestioningly, particularly when set against the backdrop of more recent relationship incarnations.