WORDS Fatima Measham

Marriage foibles make for good comedy, but what can we learn about relationships from couples on television?

When we choose to be with another person for the rest of our lives, our eccentricities inevitably become exposed and our insecurities magnified. We forget important things and make a big deal of trivial matters, while expecting our partners to be able to tell the difference. Most of all, we have to deal with the opposite ways that men and women communicate and solve conflict.

The other day my husband and I were trying to choose a restaurant, and after a minute or so of discussion, he said, ‘Well, how about you pick’. I shot back that I thought he was refusing to participate in decision-making. He sputtered that he was only being nice.

Such comical misunderstandings have been played out in sitcoms since the days of I Love Lucy. While this 1950s classic television series focused on the antics of the title character, it was often in the context of her marriage. Lucy’s husband Ricky was usually portrayed as the straight guy, the exasperated witness to her wacky misadventures. Yet, they were a devoted couple. It is as if their differences bind them together, like interlocking pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

It is a dynamic that continues to be central to many family-based comedies on television. If you squint and tip your head to one side, Homer Simpson could almost be today’s Lucy Ricardo. He is a bit extreme, of course. Homer is an absolute oaf, likely to neglect his family’s needs, and prone to hatching schemes that put them at risk of financial ruin, or at the very worst, being lynched at the Springfield town square.

In contrast, his wife Marge is the voice of reason and conscience. She may not always stop Homer from running headlong into his next disaster, but she might slow him down. More importantly, she forgives him in the end. Key to this forgiveness, of course, is Homer’s own capacity for remorse. He may not completely understand what he has done wrong, but to know that he has hurt Marge is enough. When he says sorry, and Marge replies, ‘Oh, Homie,’ it is a beautiful thing to see. We can only hope that we will be similarly forgiven each time we do something phenomenally stupid.

We sometimes see such scenes in Everybody Loves Raymond, although the resolution tends to be more subtle. The title character is laidback and easygoing—too much so for his wife Debra. She gets frustrated when he doesn’t take things seriously because it means that she is left to solve problems on her own. In the end, however, Raymond realises that if it is important to Debra, then he should also find it important, if only because she is important to him. This is the stuff upon which compromise is built.

The marriage dynamic in Australia’s most successful home-grown sitcom, Kath and Kim, is slightly different, at least for the characters of Kath and Kel. These two are hardcore soul mates, doing everything together, from boxercising to Irish dancing to running a B&B. Unlike Raymond and Debra, they support each other during family conflicts and are publicly affectionate. This does not mean, however, that Kath and Kel are immune from the odd hiccup (such as when Kath’s first husband, Gary, unexpectedly turns up). But they do tend to deal with such things from the perspective of staying committed, which is a sharp contrast to daughter Kim’s habit of running away from marital problems.

In these sitcoms and many others, we see different facets of human relationships honestly portrayed under the guise of humour. Beyond the gags and laugh tracks, such shows demonstrate the features of a healthy married life: being able to accept your partner’s idiosyncrasies, forgiving him or her without keeping score, negotiating the outcomes of conflict together, sharing interests and dreams, and staying united in the face of challenges.  

Comment  on this article