Neurodivergent (Headcanon) Alley: Frenchie (Our Flag Means Death)

Oh, Frenchie! The first handful of times I watched Our Flag Means Death, I went back and forth between him and Oluwande for my favorite crew member. On this latest rewatch, though? It’s Frenchie, all day every day! Shortly after season 2, I wrote about my AuDHD headcanons for both Stede and Ed. They’re the only two I wrote about at the time, but really, most of the crew of the Revenge definitely “pings” as some flavor of neurodivergent. While I don’t know when I might get around to some of the others, I obviously had to talk about my guy Frenchie!

For autistic headcanons, the first thing that comes to mind for Frenchie is “spiky skillsets.” Frenchie is the king of spiky skillsets! He’ll either wow you with his competence or completely flail—there’s nothing in between. Look no further than his ability to lie. If Frenchie is calm and confident, lying is probably his best talent. When he and Olu join Stede and Ed on the fancy party boat in season 1, Frenchie jumps seamlessly into inventing fake backstories for the two of them. He shows himself to be a skilled con man, simultaneously creating both the pyramid scheme and the Nigerian Egyptian prince scam. He milks these racist rich folks for all they’re worth, never once breaking character. By contrast, if he’s nervous or overwhelmed, Frenchie fumbles his way through ridiculous lies that are easy to see through. When the ship is taken by the British navy, he tries to pass off Stede’s journal as his own “fan fiction,” and at one point, he forgets his own hand dominance while being questioned by Ed. In lying, and in most things, Frenchie just does not have a medium setting.

Next, I need to look at how Frenchie inhabits his body. He’s very lanky, and his limbs just sort of do whatever they want, going absolutely everywhere when he’s excited or while he’s thinking. He frequently fidgets, especially with his hair, and he tends to perch on things rather than sit, often with his knees tucked up against his chest. He’s also fairly clumsy, which kind of gives off dyspraxia vibes. Seconds after he convinces Lucius to entrust him with hiding Stede’s journal from the British, insisting he was “born for this sort of espionage,” Frenchie trips over his own feet and falls flat on his face, getting caught immediately. And in one of my favorite sight gags of the whole series, he accidentally nails his sleeve to the deck and flails helplessly as he tries to tug himself free.

Another broad category for Frenchie is his atypical reactions to the situation at hand. Whatever it may be, he often responds in ways that jar with everyone else. While the rest of the crew is discussing a potential mutiny in the pilot, he’s laser-focused on the flag he’s designing and interrupts the surreptitious plotting with, “Hey, can you pass the black thread, pretty please?” When Jim’s nana throws a knife at them, Frenchie calmly remarks, “Now that was incredibly badass, especially for a nun,” and has to be prodded into (very disinterestedly) making the sign of the cross to placate her. When Fang is crying after they raid a wedding, Frenchie’s tone is soothing, but his words are not. “Oh, cheer up,” he says “You gonna—you gonna finish that cake? No?” Still crying, Fang shakes his head, and Frenchie takes Fang’s cake for himself.

We’ll end on a roundup of random traits and moments that add to my ND Frenchie headcanon. Frenchie is smart and observant but also has a number of wild beliefs, such as cats being witches (“And they’ve got knives in their feet,”) and the importance of leaving leftover bread out for the fairies (“They did help the bread rise. They do deserve their fair cut.”) He’s also entirely undeterred when other people think these beliefs are silly or weird. He’s definitely on the germophobic side—when the Swede has scurvy, Frenchie urges, “Don’t breathe over me, man!” and tries to blow the Swede’s breath away from him. (I love him so much!) When he and Wee John get their own room, Frenchie is super excited to “design [their] sanctum” but disturbed when he realizes that this means they might have to have people over. 

Also, side note: while I don’t normally headcanon characters as asexual without some kind of textual coding, Frenchie’s vibes are just impeccably aroace to me. I can’t explain why that is exactly, but if you know, you know. It’s true, of course, that asexual characters aren’t necessarily autistic and vice versa. But when you add it to all the other stuff, it certainly doesn’t hurt. I’d have loved to see this show’s take on canon aroace stuff, and Frenchie would’ve been the perfect character to do it with.

In short, I love the way Frenchie’s mind works. He feels super neurodivergent to me—probably autistic (though I wouldn’t say no to AuDHD,) possibly dyspraxic—but even though a lot of his traits are familiar to me, I think the way they all come together results in a really unique character.

Unhatched Observations: Our Flag Means Death

It’s that time again—looking over some of my old posts about a story with Big Neurodivergent Energy and realizing how it resonated with me as an “unhatched” autistic ADHDer. Today, we’re looking at Our Flag Means Death! So. Much. Found. Family! I like that I draw comparisons with Ted Lasso and Parks and Rec, two other supremely neurodivergent shows. (Note: in my early posts about the show, I tended to refer to Ed mainly as “Blackbeard.”)

 

Our Flag Means Death

Early on, there’s a heavy emphasis on Stede’s embarrassing attempts at real piracy. In some ways, it feels a bit like a quirkier, swashbuckling version of The Office’s brand of cringe humor: buffoon boss doesn’t know what he’s doing, hijinks ensue. Funny and entertaining, but not necessarily special. But as the show goes on, it actually reveals itself to be more a quirkier, swashbuckling version of Ted Lasso’s brand of uplifting humor: inexperienced boss fumbles his way through his chosen field, focusing on emotional health and vulnerability in what’s traditionally thought of as a toxically masculine environment.

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I’m so happy that this show exists, and I’m thrilled we’re going to get a chance to see more of these characters and their stories.

 

Relationship Spotlight: Edward Teach a.k.a. Blackbeard & Stede Bonnet

While most of the crew thinks Stede’s foppish ways are silly and kind of embarrassing, Blackbeard is fascinated by all of Stede’s aristocratic affectations. The imposing, unspeakably cool pirate is beside himself when he realizes Stede owns a tiny replica of his own ship, and he relishes the secret door concealing Stede’s extensive wardrobe. 

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Though he obviously admires him and is eager to learn the tricks of the trade from him, Stede doesn’t place expectations on who Blackbeard is or isn’t “supposed” to be. The two see each other in ways that their respective crews just don’t.

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In an odd way, they remind me a little of my beloved Leslie & Ben from Parks and Recreation. The two pairings are completely different, but in both, we’re shown how and why they like each other beyond just “chemistry.” When Blackbeard and Stede’s relationship progresses to physical affection, I don’t really have to wonder what they’d do together as a couple, because we’ve already been watching the many ways they make each other happy.

 

Favorite Characters: Edward Teach a.k.a. Blackbeard

He has a genius for piracy, but his very notoriety is beginning to weigh on him. He’s bored, sick of doing the same old thing and sick of his scary reputation meaning that no one even puts up a fight against him and gives him a challenge.

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That’s part of what draws him to Stede Bonnet, the self-styled Gentleman Pirate. When they board the Revenge, Blackbeard is charmed by the evidence of Stede’s aristocratic idiosyncrasies on display everywhere: his miniature model of the very ship they’re on, the finery of his wardrobe, the fact that he brought a complete library onto a ship. Other pirates look at these things and see weakness, but Blackbeard is fascinated.

 

Favorite Characters: Stede Bonnet

Stede doesn’t know what he’s doing, and it shows. And somehow, as much as he’s flailing at sea, the flashbacks of his staid, stifled home life back in Barbados are even more awkward. We see how ill-suited he and Mary are to each other in their arranged marriage, how much Stede feels like Just Some Guy in his own house. He doesn’t have a meaningful relationship with his wife and his children, and every time he tries to break through to something real, he missteps or his ideas are shot down.

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Obviously, it’s not cool to abandon your wife and kids without warning and run off to be a pirate. But I understand why Stede felt that something had to give, and when Mary wouldn’t agree to a seafaring life, he decided to press forward on his own. Aboard the Revenge, he has no better idea of what he’s doing, but he immediately feels freer and more invigorated.

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That’s reflective of the way Stede runs his ship. He knows very little about piracy, but in a way, that just frees him up to decide for himself what he wants it to look like.

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For this reason, the crew stops viewing Stede as an aristocratic doofus to be got rid of and more like a bumbling family member to protect from himself. As he plows naively forward, they gently suggest emendations when he’s making himself look foolish to outsiders and generally try to keep him from getting himself killed. They’re hardly the terror of the seas, but they’re in this together, and that includes Stede.