There are rules to the genre.
Life is ridden with monotone, tears and pain. In fact, these very realities accentuate the appeal of television; the option to subscribe to a desired tone of mood. To escape reality. The freedom to choose if you want to pee in your pants (horror), grip the sofa till it rips (thriller), choke on your saliva in fits of laughter (comedy), plant your heart on a roller coaster (drama)…
… or swoon like a diabetic patient from hypoglycaemia as the hero and heroine (or heroes/ heroines- sexuality is fluid*) ride off into the sunset. Birds are chirping, a light breeze tease their perfectly trimmed bangs. The temperature is a perfect 22 degrees celsius as they gallop past the luminous glittering blue lake under the falling dusk, and romantic melody pipes in the background. And they live HEA (happily ever after)- Romance.
*topic we will explore in the near future.
“There ARE rules to the genre,” young Jane insist on Jane The Virgin Chapter 54. The flashback features an adolescent Jane at the reading of romance novel The Last Song in Avalon.
As always, Jane comes bearing a list. In this case, a list of points she intend to air with the author. She questions, “I would like to know why Noelle and Jean Luc don’t get together at the end.”
“Well, love doesn’t always work out,” the writer responds with a smile.
“Yeah, in real life. But this is a romance novel. In a romance novel, they get a happily ever after…” Jane is adamant.
“Some romances don’t end happily,” the author’s explains patiently. “Think of Romeo and Juliet.”
“But that’s one of Shakespeare’s tragedies…” Jane continues. “… In tragedies they end up dead; in comedies, they end up happy; and in romance novels, they end up together… You need an HEA” She’s agitated. I don’t blame her. I’m beyond agitated.
There ARE rules to a genre. For example, the love interest does not, after 2 seasons of heart wrenching will-they-won’t-they, a broken engagement, a complicated love triangle, relentless pursuing, selfless friendship, a second engagement, the “Super Bowl of weddings”, get shot by his detective partner, who turns out to be a notorious crime lord in a rubber mask. And just minutes before their much anticipated pilot coitus debut (Jane the virgin finally losing her virginity on her wedding night!). But Michael survives the gunshot to the heart!!
And then, 10 episodes later, he croaks. Cease to exist. Returns to the earth.
An unspeakable act that violates every aspect of the romance genre law.
I bawled my eyeballs out silly. More tears were shed than that at the ending of certain BGRs. I waddled in disbelief** and conjured up a dream where Michael lives- a literal dream in between REM cycles.
** Despite the many hints and ground work the writers lay, I stubbornly remained in my state of acute denial.
Of course, the problem arise when the show’s genre is unclear. According to the ever-reliable wikipedia (my entitled opinion), Jane the Virgin is a drama, romantic comedy, telenovela and satire.
Which is a licence to break every rule in the book, right?
NOO, duh!! There are rules in this universe. A nature order of things. Imagine the wrecked havoc if show writers decide to do as they please, like, say, kill Michael off?! What kind of dimwit move is that?!!! Have you no heart? Have you no empathy for your viewers? Don’t you care about ratings???!!
I guess, the nature of their mixed genre grants them creative liberty.
Some fans hold on to the hope that Michael is not really dead. Unfortunately, in my opinion, that doesn’t seem like the direction the writers are heading. But then again, it is a Telenovela, right? You never know.
Till then, I have resolved to boycott the show, and take everybody with me. Nobody can replace Michael. Nobody! And absolutely no-freaking-body can fit the void his death has drilled in my heart…
Somehow, I’m just not as emotionally invested in the show anymore. Even with Tyler Posey’s Adam (#TeamAdam) new appearance, whom I loved on Teen Wolf.
Then again, this is purely the perspective of a loyal member of #TeamMichael. #TeamRafael is probably having a field day. Mountains of popped champagne cork, I imagine.
And, just for the sake of a stroll down memory lane, here are 107 reasons to ship Jane and Michael:
Because snow makes everything more romantic:
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how I wish Jane the Virgin ends:
On the same note, How I Met Your Mother is a tragedy, NOT a comedy.