Neurodivergent (Headcanon) Alley: Rocky (Yesterday)

*Rocky-related spoilers.*

When the actor playing Frenchie looked familiar to me after season 1 of Our Flag Means Death, I looked him up and realized that I recognized Joel Fry from this movie, where he played the main character’s quirky buddy. Back in 2019, I’d been really excited for Yesterday, but unfortunately, the movie didn’t fully pan out for me. In my review at the time, I praised Himesh Patel’s strong performance but disliked the super clunky romantic storyline and lamented that the cool premise wasn’t executed very well.

Watching it again for Joel Fry-days, my overall impressions of the movie are much the same. Himesh Patel’s acting and singing are both terrific, I like Jack’s imperfect recall of the Beatles’ catalog—a la his ongoing struggle to remember the lyrics to “Eleanor Rigby”—and it cracks me up that Ed Sheeran’s ringtone is “Shape of You.” But the story is still a letdown, and I get aggravated that Richard Curtis’s singular plot device for the film is “character gets repeatedly interrupted by meaningless stuff when they’re trying to share something important.” Seriously, it happens even more often than I’d recalled!

Since I’ve already reviewed Yesterday, I wanted to write something different for today’s post, so it’s time for another Neurodivergent Alley! Before we get into it, here’s my Joel Fry-days addendum to my original review:

Accent Watch

Southern British English, maybe a bit London.

Recommend?

In General – A soft maybe. The parts I like, I like a lot, but there’s a lot of fat surrounding it.

Joel Fry – It’s another yes from me. Look, it’s still relatively early days for Joel Fry-days, so I might just be in the “I love everything!” phase. But I really, really like Fry’s performance as Rocky, which is goofy and fun with moments of unexpected sweetness.

To me, Rocky reads as maybe AuDHD. He’s viewed by others as a terminally unemployable screwup that you can’t depend on. Sadly, even Rocky’s friends see him this way. When Jack runs into him working at a musical festival, Jack remarks, “So everyone who said you were a lazy, useless, drug-taking drunk who’d never get a job were wrong.” Rocky affirms that they were wrong about him, except he’s fired later that day and winds up couch surfing with another friend of theirs. When Jack hears about this, he commiserates with the friend, calling it “a disaster” and warning that it “could last forever.”

To be fair, Rocky struggles with executive function stuff, and he makes easy mistakes when he’s distracted, dropping the ball on important things. He’s also blunt in ways that most people don’t appreciate, and he doesn’t care much about social hierarchies. When Jack gets the chance to open for Ed Sheeran—bringing Rocky as his roadie, as a last resort—Rocky has no problem telling the pop star to his face that it “sounds a bit crap” when he tries to rap. It’s not the only moment where, in Jack’s view, Rocky says something embarrassing or inappropriate in front of someone important.

A key part of Rocky’s bluntness, though, is that he’s not great with social cues. After accompanying Jack on his frantic race to the train station in Liverpool to meet Ellie, Rocky sits down beside them as they prepare to have a serious talk about their relationship. Jack has to tell him, “Rocky, this is completely not a conversation you’re part of.” And later on, when Ellie tells Jack she’s started seeing someone, Rocky can’t figure out why Jack never dated her. Which leads us to this exchange:

ROCKY: “If I had been you, twice a day, I would have loved her up like a lusty lion.” 

JACK: “Rocky, if I ask you to just shut up—really, really, really shut up—would that be okay?” 

ROCKY: “...Right. Can I just start again and say, isn’t it wonderful news? And I hope they’ll be very happy together and have gorgeous kids! Is that better?” 

JACK: “No, it’s worse.” 

ROCKY: “I have got a third option, but—”

And that’s the point where Jack cuts him off. Lots of comedies have the inappropriate friend who says horny things or inadvertently makes the hero feel like crap when they’re down. But I don’t often see this dynamic, where it’s clear that the friend realizes they said the wrong thing and tries to course-correct, only they’re not sure how. Rocky asking permission to start again, wondering “is that better?” once he does, and then offering to try a third time? All of that screams, Oh wait, social interaction fumbled—how do I fix this?

Similarly, when the distracted mistakes happen and Rocky screws things up, he’s not just the happy-go-lucky guy who brushes everything off. When he gets fired near the start of the film, he says, “Fair dues,” admitting his fault in it, then sheepishly shakes his head at Jack as he has to admit he’s just lost another job. He does try, and he wants to do well, and it bothers him when he doesn’t. That’s another thing that a lot of movies wouldn’t do with the funny wildcard friend who causes comedic mishaps and makes the hero’s life more difficult. Generally, you’re not “supposed to” empathize with this guy when his own best friend thinks he’s not good for anything, but I do.

For me, a lot of that comes down to how Joel Fry plays Rocky. He brings out the earnestness amid the goofiness and the chaos, making Rocky feel more like a genuine person instead of a caricature. I feel it in those moments where Rocky realizes he’s miscalibrated a social cue, or where he shows that he’s not immune to the perception of him as a hopeless screwup.  Best of all, Fry does this while still filling the “goofy chaotic friend” role to a tee—he has some great line deliveries and reaction shots, and I love a moment where it’s revealed that Rocky slept on the couch in his own hotel room, with his jacket, shoes, and sunglasses still on. Hee! 

Neurodivergent (Headcanon) Alley: Trev Simpkins (Doctor Who)

Other than Paddington 2, which I watched for Peter Capaldi and includes a teeny-tiny Joel Fry appearance, this is the only role of his I watched in between seeing Our Flag Means Death and starting Joel Fry-days. It’s the only project I went into knowing he was going to be in it—knowing and liking him, excited to see him, but not yet watching it specifically for him. It was fun to revisit the episode now. Although it’s a bit of a letdown as a Joel Fry project, that’s purely because he’s not in it nearly enough. Every minute Trev is onscreen, he’s simply a delight!

Since I’ve already reviewed this episode, I wanted to write something different for today’s post, and a Neurodivergent Alley seemed like a good choice. I suspect you’ll be seeing these for more of Joel Fry’s characters sooner rather than later! Before we get into it, here’s my Joel Fry-days addendum to my original Sunday Who Review post:

Accent Watch

Sounds like Southern British English.

Recommend?

In General – Overall, I would (if you already know Doctor Who—this would be a rough episode to start out on.) It’s kind of messy, but there’s also a lot of loveliness and creativity here.

Joel Fry – Yes. I love Trev!

Warnings

Violence, mild language, scary moments for kids, and thematic elements.

I don’t write about my personal speculation about performers’ neurotypes, so I’m just looking at the characters here. But at this point, I’m suspecting that Joel Fry is one of those actors where most of their characters feel autistic. And from what I’ve seen so far, Fry’s characters often feel autistic in different ways, which I like a lot. If you take, say, Frenchie, Darren from White Van Man, and Bob from American Sweatshop, they all seem autistic to me despite having so many differences between them. Additionally, I have forthcoming reviews of some other roles where Fry’s character canonically has another form of neurodivergence, such as depression or a psychotic disorder.

All right, let’s talk Trev. He works security at the Time Hotel, and he encounters the Doctor in the lobby, nicking milk and biscuits in his dressing gown and slippers. The Doctor brushes off Trev’s concerns that he might be trespassing and returns to the TARDIS. But he quickly comes back out again, having realized he noticed something mysterious that needs investigating. He enlists Trev to help him on his “top-secret dangerous mission,” and despite being a little uncertain and nervous about that, Trev is all in.

As I said, the episode doesn’t have nearly enough Trev, and much of his dialogue is functional—he’s a person to listen to the Doctor’s observations and theories, someone who can explain little details about the Time Hotel. As such, I just don’t know enough about Trev to say whether or not he’s autistic. I’m pretty darn sure he has anxiety, though, so that’s what we’ll be looking at today.

We’ll start with what little is in the text, then move onto the specifics of Joel Fry’s performance (which is where the real meat is.) Trev repeatedly begins statements with “sorry”: sorry to interrupt, sorry if he’s mistaken, etc. His kneejerk response is to apologize for his presence or thoughts. And when the Doctor recruits him for the mission, Trev is confused, overwhelmed, and hanging on for dear life as he tries to follow the wild twists of an adventure with the Doctor. I love this exchange between them, when the Doctor takes him by the arm and starts strolling around the lobby:

THE DOCTOR: “Keep it casual, like you haven’t noticed anything dangerous.” 

TREV: “But I haven’t noticed anything dangerous.” 

THE DOCTOR: “Then why aren’t you strolling better?” 

TREV: “Well, I’m pretending not to notice something I haven’t noticed. I really haven’t perfected a stroll for that!”

I love them, your honor! Is it too late to have two full seasons of Trev as the Fifteenth Doctor’s companion?

I also love that, while Trev really doesn’t know what’s going on and is apprehensive about what to do, he is also determined to make good. When the Doctor tasks him with following a suspicious character, Trev vows to come through for him, adding, “No, seriously, I’m on this—I’m on this. This is gonna be the least I’ve ever let anybody down.” This line, of course, suggests that Trev is used to letting people down, but I like that he doesn’t let his nerves or his past failures (real or perceived) stop him from doing everything he can to help.

All these moments are great, and while they wouldn’t necessarily point to neurodivergence on their own, Joel Fry’s performance puts a particular slant on it. Trev stammers a lot, and he has a habit of putting pauses in the middle of his sentences in odd places. And I’m obsessed with Fry’s body language here. Honestly, Trev is fidgeting for a good chunk of his screentime—mostly rubbing his fingertips with his thumbs (a common anxious stim among Fry’s characters,) but he also plays with his cuff and the bottom of his shirt. When he first approaches the Doctor, his arms are folded tightly across his chest in an uncomfortable manner, and there’s another scene where his shoulders are tensely raised up. Everything about Trev’s body language screams anxiety.

Which, to me, is really cool. I like that the Doctor gets someone who’s uncertain and anxious to help him, that Trev pushes through that anxiety, and that he does help the Doctor in important ways, without magically “fixing” that part of himself. It’s never named as such, making me think it’s more about Joel Fry’s performance than something the show was specifically aiming for. But regardless, it means something to me that the Doctor looks at Trev and thinks, “Yeah, this guy can help me out.”

Neurodivergent (Headcanon) Alley: Anthony Bridgerton (Bridgerton)

*Anthony-related spoilers*

Back when Bridgerton first came out, I liked the idea of a racially diverse Regency romance series but quickly lost interest when all the talk was about how “spicy” it was. When it comes to fiction, I’m not sex-repulsed, but my aroace butt has very little interest in that sort of thing, and I didn’t really see the appeal of the show when perfectly non-spicy Jane Austen adaptations were right there. But fast-forward to watching Wicked last November. As I sat in the theater, vibrating with excitement at all the amazing things happening onscreen, I could feel my platonic crush on Jonathan Bailey developing in real time. I knew vaguely that he was on Bridgerton, because I’d seen stuff come across my social media periodically and I recognized him from the excellent Twelfth Doctor story “Time Heist.” After I finished reeling from the wonder of “Defying Gravity” and “Popular” and “Dancing Through Life,” I found myself thinking, “Wait, do I need to watch Bridgerton for this dude?”

Fortunately, it turns out Bridgerton is fun and isn’t just wall-to-wall sex—there’s plenty of romance and yearning and sly humor in there too. I’m not a huge fan, but I do enjoy it, and when I say Anthony is my favorite Bridgerton, it’s only in part because of my bias. And while Anthony isn’t the only character on the show (or in the Bridgerton family!) who reads as neurodivergent to me, my bias is the reason I’m writing about him first. Let’s talk Anthony Bridgerton!

Look, when it comes to ND headcanons, you often hear people argue, “They’re not autistic, they’re traumatized!” It’s true that there’s a lot of overlap between PTSD and autistic traits, and it’s true that plenty of fictional characters—Anthony very definitely included—have all sorts of trauma. But if I may, why not both? So many autistic people in the real world have c-PTSD, so it stands to reason that some of the traumatized characters in fiction are also autistic.

The trauma that has shaped Anthony’s adult life happened when he saw his father die in front of him, very unexpectedly. His father died due to anaphylaxis from a bee sting, something they didn’t even know was possible. In an instant, bewildered and grieving, Anthony inherited his father’s title of viscount, and with it all the responsibilities that entails. His grieving mother was heavily pregnant with his seventh sibling, and when she went into labor shortly afterwards, complications arose. Anthony was told that, if the time came, it would be his duty to decide whether to save his mother or the baby. He experienced a whirlwind of heartbreak and terror in a very short time, and as he watched his mother lose herself within her own sorrow, he decided that he would never fall in love—he never wanted anyone else to experience that kind of pain because of him.

Naturally, being a character in a Regency romance who’s vowed never to fall in love is just asking for trouble, and it’s only a matter of time before Anthony meets Kate, the woman who completely spins him around. But before that happens, Anthony sees marriage purely as another one of his many duties. When he announces his intention to take a wife, what he’s really looking for is a suitable viscountess—and in marriage, as in most things, he sets out to do it as correct as possible. Anthony approaches most of his objectives with a “normal to want and possible to achieve” attitude. He’s going to win at managing his sister Daphne’s suitors in season 1, he’s going to win at croquet and charades, and he’s definitely going to win at marriage.

This manifests itself in strict attention to detail and exacting standards that can’t be deviated from under any circumstances. With Daphne, he at first chases away every potential suitor because he finds fault with all of them. And when Daphne points out that that’s the complete opposite of what they’re going for, his calculations change: he’d thought his duty was to find his sister the perfect husband, but above all, his duty is to actually find her a husband. So he swings to the other end of the pendulum and arranges an engagement with the first respectable gentleman he can get his hands on. Achievement unlocked, Best Viscount/Older Brother Ever? Not quite, because Daphne—understandably—wants a say in her own future and hates the notion of being traded away. In Anthony’s desperation to do right by his duty and his sister, he takes multiple big swings in the wrong directions, missing important considerations because he goes all in on what he thinks is the one correct way to do things.

Likewise, in his own search for a wife/viscountess, Anthony draws up a list of the qualities he needs, refuses to deviate from it, and systematically meets with young ladies one by one, inevitably taking note of how each one doesn’t measure up. And even though his title makes him the most eligible bachelor of the season, his forthrightness doesn’t win him any favors. When he sets his sights on Kate’s younger sister Edwina, the most “correct” choice, Anthony is (mostly) a dutiful and respectful gentleman. But he very specifically does not want to marry for love, and he can’t supply the sort flowery courting that Edwinda is hoping for. On the one occasion where he tries, showing up with one of Benedict’s poems and attempting to pass it off as his own, he abandons it halfway through to make this speech:

“I cannot do this. I cannot claim these words as my own—they are someone else’s entirely. Truth be told, I’m not a man of poetry. Words of flattery are beautiful and sweet, but they are also hollow unless accompanied by action. Miss Edwina, I could stand here and pretend to be someone I am not. I could pretend to want the very same things as you, but I would be lying. I may not be able to…offer the display of passion that you truly deserve. But I assure you that when it comes to action and duty, I shall never be found lacking. And I hope that is what will speak louder than any pretty words ever can.”

With Anthony’s strict adherence to duty and his insistence on the most correct way of doing things, falling in love with Kate throws him for a loop. Given his past trauma and his vow, falling in love with anyone would’ve been distressing for him, but the fact that it’s Kate in particular feels all wrong for him. Edwina is the plan, the goal. She’s the queen’s chosen “diamond of the season.” Kate is the spinster older sister, whose temperament seems ill-suited for a viscountess. What’s more, she loathes Anthony due to some frank remarks she heard him make about marriage, she’s doing her best to thwart his intentions toward Edwina, and she keeps showing him up when he’s trying to win. Kate is the opposite of the plan, and Anthony can’t deal with the fact that he’s falling for her. This makes him even more determined to keep his focus on Edwina, which winds up hurting all three of them.

In a very buttoned-up society that’s concerned about reputation, protocol, and propriety, you’d think Anthony’s fastidious nature would work to his advantage, but instead it makes him stand out. Other characters think he’s too intense, too much, and even young women who are vying for the viscount’s attention are put off by his unvarnished honesty. But personally, these traits endear Anthony to me so much. I’m glad that being with Kate makes him happy and helps him relax a little, but I like that loving her doesn’t turn him into a completely different person. He can be happy and more relaxed without losing the traits that are such a major part of him.