Favorite Characters: Amy Dyer (In the Flesh)

So much of In the Flesh is heart-on-its-sleeve earnest (and in the case of zombies, that can be more literal than usual) – people fear openly, mourn openly, yearn openly, and demand their rights openly.  Often, this results in searing drama and insightful commentary, but it also, occasionally, means unapologetic humor and surprising life – and when it does, it usually involves Kieren’s Best Dead Friend Forever Amy.

As a woefully young woman who died of cancer, Amy couldn’t be more appreciative of her second chance.  She lives her undead life by eager handfuls, going to the carnival one day and getting buzzed on sheep’s brains the next.  The minute she meets timid, melancholy Kieren, she fills his life with her breezy attitude and brash confidence.  She’s not about to waste time apologizing for what she is, so she doesn’t bother.  Instead, she stares down segregational barkeeps with her pale PDS eyes and discusses being undead without the slightest hint of a filter – her first visit to Kieren’s house is an absolute riot, as she tells his parents in detail about the gastrointestinal havoc food and drink wreak on the undead digestive tract (all while Kieren is miming eating dinner for their benefit.)  She revels in going out without makeup or colored contacts, she cheekily accuses a living man with PDS-related romantic intentions of “necrophilia,” and in general, she has a blast challenging people’s assumptions of what PDS is or isn’t.

Amy can sometimes be “a bit much,” as they say – too loud, too outrageous, too cocksure – but that’s very intentional on the show’s part.  Amy, for the most part, is Amy Concentrate:  supercharged and undiluted, and that’s frequently terrific, but she’s not quite as buoyant as she sometimes pretends.  Though much of it is just her natural Amy-ness, a portion of the jocularity and bravado is rooted in insecurity.  There’s this undercurrent of fear within Amy, a shade of loneliness that she buries beneath noise, gaiety, and overcompensating humor.  She often “narrates” people’s inner-monologues for them, announcing how desperately attractive they find her and how hopelessly in love with her they are.  It’s arch and over-the-top, big and joking, but each comment contains a kernel of worry that they don’t care about her at all, and it’s a sleight-of-hand push to get them to reassure her.

I think it’s notable that this gregarious young woman doesn’t appear to have any pre-Rising acquaintances.  Kieren has his family, of course; he was also close with Rick and knows many people in the village.  Since Amy’s tombstone is in town, she presumably lived there before she died, but she lives alone.  Her bungalow is empty until she fills it with Simon and other disciples of the Undead Prophet.  What about family and friends from before her death?  Did she have anyone?  Did they start to fall back as the cancer ate away at her, unable to cope?  Did they all disappear in the Rising (maybe some of them at her hand?)  We don’t see Amy’s arrival back home – did they reject her?  Whatever the situation, I think it fuels Amy’s need to be convinced she’s loved, her tendency to cling to those she cares about. 

Oh, and when she’s forced to work as a (very unwilling) secretary as part of the PDS “give-back” scheme, she insists on answering the phone with a blasé, “Village of the damned, how may I help you?”  Undead awesome from head to toe.

Relationship Spotlight: Kieren Walker & Amy Dyer (In the Flesh)

A lot of bleak stuff happens on In the Flesh, and Kieren gets more than his fair share of it.  In the midst of all the sadness, regret, fear, injustice, and confusion that fills his new life, he’s in need of some spark of light, and for the most part, that light comes from his friendship with Amy.

Kieren comes across Amy when he first ventures out upon returning home.  He avoids her, fearing the society that hates him and abhorring the undead face beneath his makeup.  He left the house because he couldn’t bear to sit there any longer, but now, he wants to retreat again.  But Amy’s not what he expected.  She doesn’t fear or hate him; she’s like him.  She recognizes the PDS features he disguises, but she doesn’t mind them.  In him, she sees a potential kindred spirit.  She knows what he’s been doing since he came home – looking at old photos, wallowing in old memories, and tearing himself apart with guilt – and she knows that’s no way to live.

Amy’s death was the polar opposite of Kieren’s.  While he committed suicide, overwhelmed by pain and remorse, her life was taken by cancer.  Like him, she died young, but she died against her will, her health and vitality ripped from her.  Though Kieren has a hard time returning to life at all, let alone with PDS, Amy doesn’t waste a shred of her second chance.  Kieren absolutely needs her in his life, to remind him that life can more than just pain and that it needs to be lived.

Since Amy is quick to come to terms with her PDS, she’s also an important force in helping Kieren to accept himself.  Sometimes she simply leads by example, going “au naturel” (sans makeup/contacts) in public and speaking openly about being undead.  Sometimes she confronts Kieren about the self-loathing he pretends is really just about fitting in – she asks him how far he’ll have to go before he’ll let himself be who he is.  Sometimes she stands up for her and Kieren’s rights when he wants to back down, and sometimes she simply tells him how beautiful he is; a boy who can’t look at his own reflection needs to hear that, and not enough people tell Kieren.  While he doesn’t embrace the Undead Prophet’s teachings like Amy does, Kieren definitely grows under her influence, becoming bolder and more confident about being himself. 

Kieren additionally finds a confidante in Amy.  Her natural openness make her safe, and her curiosity pulls many of Kieren’s private feelings out of hiding.  Within days of knowing her, he opens up about his suicide and his history with Rick.  She accepts it all with sympathy rather than pity – no judgment, just comfort, and going forward, she doesn’t treat him like he’ll break.  They even joke, lightly, about his past depression, and when Rick returns to town (undead,) she tells Kieren while others try to keep it from him “for his own good.”  It’s a tough love approach that isn’t always what Kieren needs, but she generally knows when to ease up and stop pushing.

That’s a lot about why Amy is good for Kieren, and since he’s the main character, it makes sense that the relationship is largely from his perspective.  It’s not one-sided, though; Kieren is much more obviously in need of a good friend, but Amy needs him, too.  Her constant jokes and chatter serve in part to fill empty spaces, and Kieren keeps her from being alone.  His quiet, gentle friendship evens her out.  In Amy’s other relationships, we see defensiveness (Phillip) and bravado (Simon,) both fueled by a desire to be loved and a fear that she won’t be, but Kieren is a sure presence, someone who’s on her side and won’t leave.  He bemusedly accepts the mantle of her BDFF – Best Dead Friend Forever – and doesn’t plan to give it up anytime soon.