And why she is the underrated anti-heroine of comedy

Disclaimer: This is a long read. Initially I just wanted to defend Britta against online haters, but it grew into something more – a character study. Much like Britta, I am not a licensed therapist, nor do I have a degree in psychology or film studies. Neither am I a literature major, nor a native English speaker. My drive to write this piece was based on my love of writing, Community and Britta Perry. If I haven’t deterred you from reading my essay yet, please enjoy my take on the one-of-a-kind, pro-anti, I-guess-there’s-no-hug-button, Britta Perry.

“Oh, Britta’s in this?”

DAMN STRAIGHT SHE IS.

By the middle of Community’s season one, Britta’s character shifts from being Jeff’s crush to an outlet (along with Pierce) for group’s mockery: from making fun of her pronunciation of bagels (‘baggles’) to using her name as a verb to mean to ‘ruin something’. I will admit, some lines made at her expense are hilarious – “ugh, you’re the AT&T of people”, yet I failed to grasp why she was deemed as the worst by the group. Additionally, many fans of the show added fuel to the fire by posting “Oh, Britta’s in this?” practically under every YouTube video that she’s in. Even though this quote is hilarious within the context, I felt a snarky undertone to this trend. In this vein, Gillian Jacobs admitted herself that she enjoyed playing a character who went from “a girl on the pedestal…to like, ‘you’re the worst, please leave’ “. Yet, it’s another thing to solely view her from this angle alone, dismissing all of her great qualities. I always found Britta refreshing from other heroines in the comedy canon, so I decided to investigate why people were so quick to dislike her. Partially the problem lies with us. We, as an audience, tend to overlook characters that are laughed at, since we are not taught to sympathise or side with them. But if we isolate Britta from the group’s reaction, we can discover her for a kind and compassionate person she really is. In Abed’s words “we will see her value.” But before we do that, let’s look at Britta from the outset.

Joyless Division

So what’s the deal, Jessica Biel? Why do so many people hate Britta?

As Dan Harmon admitted himself, Britta wasn’t envisioned as an annoying character from the get-go. But after talking to one of the female writers on the show, he realised that she is not someone women would choose to be friends with. So, instead of making her more likable, Harmon decided to enhance her flaws and pick on her humourless aspect. As a result, Britta became someone who is self-righteous, conceited and defiant. She was still meant to be the ‘sensible and practical one’ in the group, yet they slashed that idea as well by making her the piñata of it. To paraphrase Harmon, “instead of saddling her up with status, they beat her up”. This is seen as early as Spanish 101, when Shirley comments on Britta’s criticism of her and Annie’s protest: “someone has a case of ‘I use fringe politics to make myself feel special, but doesn’t actually want to do anything’ -itis.” Therefore, her being ‘the worst’ was a conscious act by the creator and writing staff. However, just because she is called ‘the worst’, doesn’t mean she was hated; on the contrary, very much loved.

However, with this severity comes depth, which a lot of sitcom characters traditionally lack. It gave her an ability to react differently and introduce another palette of emotions to the group, which actually enriches the group’s dynamic. She’s the anti-Winger. Additionally, Gillian Jacobs’ work in drama, as opposed to comedy genre only amplified this idea of Britta being intrinsically not funny.

Britta Against the Machine

Need a fake ID? Britta will hook you up. Want to start a riot? Britta will be there with posters and spray paint. Need to break into someone’s apartment and steal their faucet? Done and done. We are introduced to Britta as a pot-smoking slacker, who instead of focusing on her education prefers to distract herself anyway she can, usually by getting involved in people’s lives. Before Greendale, Britta was part of the An-her-chists collective that spray-painted billboards in Banksy fashion. After the group decided to split, Britta joins Greendale Community College in hopes of getting an easy degree. Even though, she seemed to settle into her new life, she continues to protest in Greendale as well, although to a lesser degree (journalist censorship and oil spill protests). By season three, Britta has embraced her new academic path, but is still nostalgic for her rebellious days. For instance, in Geography of Conflict, she finds out that her friend is imprisoned in Syria for protesting against an oppressive regime. She stages a sit-in allegedly against the United Nations, however it is more of a venting act, because she’s envious that her friend is doing something meaningful. We see that she misses having a purpose. Defiance is a big part of Britta’s personality, therefore she gets frustrated when she doesn’t have an outlet for it.

While people might complain that Britta is plaguing everyone with her persistent rants on everything from oligarchies to weddings, I think she is voicing the unpopular opinion that others are unwilling to share out of blatant fear of being cast out. Britta isn’t afraid of adversity, on the contrary – she welcomes it with open arms. And sometimes it yields unforgettable results. Her rebellious spirit is best encapsulated in App Development and Condiments, where Britta’s ability to go against the crowd is shown in its full glory. She openly defies the established hierarchy and successfully manages to rally everyone against the rule of the fives, famously exclaiming, “LONG LIVE THE REVIEWLUTION!!!” As a bonus, and in a beautifully bizarre Community fashion, we see Britta as a reincarnation of Che Guevara, the Mother of Ones that reduces everyone to ‘oneness.’ Therefore, shouldn’t we be applauding her ability to think independently and speak up, instead of judging? Isn’t she a great example of a woman, who yes, has more fights than a YouTube comment section, but isn’t afraid to use her voice regardless of what others think of her? So, instead of rolling our eyes at her, maybe we should be saying, “you go, girl“? And not ironically.

Britta for the Win

True, Britta offers a lot of comedy relief to the group by constantly failing. Whether it’s an underwhelming-prank-turned-crime-scene in Science of Illusion, or accidentally killing Pierce in a video game while giving him a pep talk in Digital Estate Planning, Britta just keeps going, reminding us that it’s okay to mess up. But these screw-ups create a special kind of superpower she doesn’t judge those who fail either. This makes other people comfortable to be around her. For example, in Contemporary Impressionists after Jeff’s maniacal episode at the bar mitzvah party, Britta picks him up on the curb and takes him home.

There is an expression in Russian language, “Хотелось как лучше, а получилось как всегда”. Rough translation – “despite the best intentions, things turned out for the worst”. Sometimes Britta fails, but you gotta give it to her – she is relentless when it comes to her friends. She never gives up on them, because she knows from experience what failure is like.

“I loved about that character that she wanted to do well, but always got in her own way, but was also undaunted by other people’s scorn. She just kept going no matter how much people made fun of her.”

Gillian Jacobs

Britta is labelled as a buzzkill throughout the series, but is she though? In Remedial Chaos Theory, it is Jeff that cuts Britta off as soon as she starts belting out Roxanne. Everyone seems to obediently comply with Jeff’s sentiment, with Annie even nodding to reaffirm that. Yet, as soon as Jeff goes to fetch pizza, Britta starts singing and dancing and everybody immediately follows suit. Takeaway? Sometimes, it’s Jeff who’s the killjoy, while Britta turns a casual dinner with friends into one of the most epic moments in the history of Community.

Venus in Arms

“That woman is a hurricane.”

“Yeah”.

“Hurricanes are bad, Troy.”

“I know!”

Jeff and Troy

To quote a film analysis channel The Take, “viewers [are] culturally-primed to be judgmental of bad behaviour in women“. Any female character that strayed from that description required to be tamed, for example Kat from 10 things I hate about you. True, there has been a plethora of unlikable women on screen since Community, including Claire Underwood from House of Cards, Fleabag from the eponymous Fleabag, HBO’s Girls and so on. But, they are primarily dramas or dramedies that have aired after 2010, whereas Community premiered back in 2009. Since art reflects our cultural norms, it’s not surprising that a character like Britta receives mostly criticism – she doesn’t comply with expectations, especially by male characters. She doesn’t sugar-coat things either, which is why she gets dissed a lot by the group. That’s why we might feel second-hand embarrassment for her when she says ‘baggle’ instead of bagel or questions whether worms have faces, because members of the group consider it weird. But that’s the point – why should we? Britta is just being who she is – just because it doesn’t coincide with others’ expectations doesn’t mean she should cave and change her attitude. That is where her strong suit lies – being okay not always being liked by others. She is a good example for someone like Annie, who is young, naïve and often represses her unattractive qualities in favour of being more palatable. This is best illustrated in their fundraiser for the oil spill they both organised. Britta speaks in a frank manner, encouraging people to donate, while Annie employs her looks and a flirtatious technique to manipulate guys into giving them more money. It’s okay that she does it, but Britta shows there are other ways to make people listen.

Even though Britta is a hottie, she’s never ostensibly sexualised, which is a rare sight in American sitcoms. Yes, she is portrayed as attractive (“she’s no barrel of monkeys”), but her sexuality is painted as direct and awkward, and her flirting technique is mocked. Usually a character like Britta is fawned over by male characters, and her unlikable traits go unnoticed. Take Emma Swan from Once Upon A Time, for instance. At first glance, they are similar characters: both blondes, who sport leather jackets and have guarded personalities. However, unlike Britta, Emma seems to be worshipped by most of the men in Storybrooke – practically every good-looking guy she meets sooner or later develops a crush on her (Graham, August, Captain Hook). This gives us an impression that guys won’t be dismissive of her despite the defiant attitude, because of her long eyelashes and golden locks. Writers imply that physical hotness can absolve responsibility from any attitude or dubious acts, therefore we as an audience tend to forgive them. That’s not the case with Britta, as she quickly becomes the go-to for all of the group’s jokes, which are usually made at her expense. In Community, male characters are undaunted by Britta’s good looks. Not only is she held accountable for her acts, but she is constantly ridiculed for anything she does. In Custody Law and Eastern European Diplomacy, Britta steals a DVD from Abed, in order to ‘break up’ him and Troy with Lukka, because of his past as a war criminal. However, when they catch her red-handed, Troy and Abed give her a hard time and even call her a monster. That is a more true-to-life story – just because you’re good-looking, doesn’t mean you will get away with things. In the commentary tracks from season one, Donald Glover aptly observes, “Bagging on somebody who is really pretty is funny to me.” Probably, because it’s such a rare thing not only in sitcoms, but in cinema in general. When we see someone pretty bearing the consequences for their actions, it restores our faith in humanity – that looks aren’t everything.

Moreover, Gillian Jacobs and Dan Harmon mention on several occasions that Britta is kind of a skank. Harmon goes on to elaborate that it’s part of her appeal: “she’s like a giant suitcase that you throw over your shoulder and go travel the world.” Britta isn’t glossy, her charm is in her grit – “Jeff needs a girl, who doesn’t wear underwear, not because Oprah told her it would spice things up. He needs a girl who doesn’t wear underwear, because she hasn’t done laundry in three weeks.” Yet we, as an audience, tend to crinkle our noses when we hear the term ‘skank’ (maybe, because it’s so close to the word ‘skunk’?). It’s an adjective used to describe a woman of loose morals. However, Britta integrates this quality in a quotidian way – we see it as a natural part of her, not a deviation from the norm, which is how male writers often frame such characters. Moreover, Britta is depicted as a modern woman with a healthy sexual appetite, and no one judges her on that account (except Shirley, but even then it’s not a big deal). She can flash Neil for concert tickets, because she does it, while maintaining her agency; she takes peyote, because she doesn’t care if she won’t be perceived by some as ‘marriage material’. Her value of herself doesn’t rest on what constitutes as ‘proper’ in society or in the eyes of men.

“I tend to play flawed women who are trying hard”.

Gillian Jacobs

Wires with Fraying Ends

Even though Britta displays an icy exterior to the world, she’s actually warm and fuzzy on the inside. Behind that prickly wall of barbed wire hides a scared little girl, whose biggest fear is to be perceived as weak for her sensitivity. That’s why she is wary of not revealing that side of her. In Communication Studies, when Jeff tells Britta she drunk dialed him, she is instantly embarrassed and avoids him at all costs. It’s Abed who sheds light on Britta’s fear of vulnerability: “Jeff, you know Britta’s defining weakness. She cuts and runs. If you do this half-assed and fail, she may leave. Then we all lose her. That’s not gonna happen, not on my watch.”

Even though, she’s not comfortable unveiling her vulnerability to others, she doesn’t deny it when being called out. For instance in Football, Feminism and You, when Shirley comments on her not being able to open up in the bathroom, Britta doesn’t defend herself by saying something like, “I’m not into that feminine crap”. Instead, she mutters under her breath, “I’ve peed alone my entire life”. She also adds that women have always hated her and it goes back to her formative years when she “got boobs before everybody else”. Girls have been rejecting her from teenage years, so she learned to be more guarded. Or when she admits that she isn’t as cool about Annie dating Vaughn: “Fine! I cared. I’m a girly girl. I like boys, and I don’t like it when they’re mean to me, and I don’t like it when they stop kissing me and start kissing my friends, I’m not that cool.”

Britta has a hard time admitting her true feelings, because of the shame associated with being sensitive. Clearly, it doesn’t match her closed-off, leather jacket-clad persona. However, what she seems to misconstrue is that sensitivity equals weakness. Therefore, when she does reveal something, we know that it’s genuine, because of the unbridled rage and childlike innocence of it. This trait is best encapsulated in this famous quote: “Knock, knock. Who’s there? Cancer. Oh, good, come on in. I thought it was Britta!”. Therefore, ironically, it’s Britta’s senstivity, and not her stoic demeanour that is her strong suit. For some reason, it is more poignant to see a more armed person come unbound, because we recognise how universal our pain is. That is why Britta’s confession in Science of Illusion, leads Annie, Shirley, Troy and Pierce to also disclose their feelings. Her bravery of showing vulnerability has provided them a safe outlet to show theirs, too.

“Hey. Abed. Why are you and I the only sane ones–”

“Shh. Just watch. It’s beautiful.”

Jeff and Abed

*Very long paragraph coming up, so buckle up!*

However, it would be a glaring omission not to point out some of Britta’s more self-destructive habits. We see her cheat on a test, because of her lack of self-confidence (Advanced Criminal Law). We discover that her sense of self-worth rests on a shaky foundation of her friends’ opinions (Bondage and Beta Male Sexuality). When Jeff cuts her off from singing Roxanne (Remedial Chaos Theory), she goes to the bathroom to smoke pot. But I think her most self-sabotaging pattern is revealed through the men that she dates – one in particular. In Abed’s succinct terms, “Britta is attracted to men in pain. It helps her pretend to be mentally healthy.” Throughout the first two seasons, the show lightly alludes to the fact that Britta likes brutal guys that endured suffering. But in the Origins of Vampire Mythology, Britta’s self-hatred reveals to us in its full bloom. We see her longing for a man named Blade, a man, who allegedly broke her heart, and because of whom she doesn’t believe in love anymore. We, as an audience, know little about Blade. All that is presented to us is that he works at a carnival. Thus, making it more of a mystery to uncover, which Jeff does. Best expressed in Annie’s exasperating question, “Who hurt you, and why didn’t it stick?” – a crucial question, which unveils the crux of Britta’s convoluted behaviour. There is a two-fold answer. One: Through Jeff we find out that Blade is clinically incapable of feeling shame, because of an old injury in the head. It could be argued that the reason why Britta feels so drawn to him is due to the inherent surplus of this emotion in her life. Therefore, just by being near him, she can vicariously imagine what that must feel like not carrying that burden with you. Two: the reason why she is attracted to emotionally unavailable men, because deep down she truly believes that’s the only thing she deserves. Coming back to Annie’s rhetorical, yet crucial question – we don’t know who hurt Britta. We can only guess. But, it resulted in her internalising this emotion of shame and worthlessness, which are inextricably linked, as the latter is the by-product of the former. I will try to elaborate on Annie’s question and provide an answer: Why yearn for a person, who isn’t interested in giving you what you want? Why get hurt over and over again? Don’t you see how twisted that is? No. The person who is trapped in a seething maelstrom of self-hatred (i.e. feeling worthless), cannot objectively analyse their behaviour without proper treatment. Again, this hatred is internalised. It’s a mechanism that functions like a broken record: mistaking familiarity (i.e. emotional unavailability) for affection.

Phew. I hope I didn’t confuse you and tire you out. But this portion was important to unveil a pattern, because it yields some unexpected results, which I will discuss in the two final sections.

When I say ‘thera’, you say ‘pist’

It is a paradox that people with deep-seated insecurities have a powerful ability to raise others. From personal experience, Britta knows what that deep pit of self-hatred is like. This makes her immune to being judgmental of others who experience it. Moreover, it makes her twice as motivated to help people. However, occasionally in her ardent pursuit to help them, she gets in her own way. Instead of doing good, she inadvertently causes good. “Functioning mad and sadly”, as the song goes.

For instance in Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas, she worries that Abed is having a psychotic episode, so she tries to coax him into group therapy. Her motive was keeping Abed from being suspended from Greendale. Yes, it was deceitful and Abed had the right to exile her from the Cave of Frozen Memories, but if it wasn’t for her would that magical adventure onto Planet Abed even happen? And would he eventually find the meaning of Christmas? Yes, her methods were questionable, but her intentions were pure.

Similarly, in Geothermal Escapism this meddlesome side is taken up a notch – Britta attempts to forcefully make everyone admit how much they’ll miss Troy, instead of just letting them enjoy a final escapade (“I will force you to grieve properly, even if it kills us all!”). She decides to chase after Troy and Abed to make them reconcile their feelings for each other over Troy’s departure. But even here her motive was primarily fueled by the desire to help them face the inevitable pain. However, what Britta often fails to grasp, is that everyone grieves differently – not everyone can tackle their emotions head on. Yet it doesn’t render her effort any less worthy. In the same episode, Britta and Hickey (which, if I may add, made a formidable duo) team up to defeat Troy and Abed. However, when Troy says that lava is real for Abed and he almost ‘fake dies’ because of Hickey, she sees the error of her ways. Appalled by Hickey’s behaviour, Britta pushes him to the floor and comes up with the idea of ‘re-cloning’ Abed. Even here we see her desperately trying to make amends – although Britta’s thinking strays far from imaginative, she still makes an effort to conjure up an idea that can revive her friend. And incidentally, it is the clone of Abed that can reconcile with his feelings about Troy’s parting (“I don’t think lava’s here, because you’re leaving. I think it’s here because I won’t let go”). Even though he deems himself less emotional after being re-cloned, I think he’s actually become more emotionally mature. Moreover, shortly after facing true feelings about not being in each other’s lives anymore, Troy and Abed found a way to make their parting more bearable – by making versions of themselves that are more emotionally resilient. All thanks to Britta Perry.

We see that in both cases her main goal was just to alleviate pain from her friends by facing problems head-on, because she’s a realist. Britta may be good at failing, but she’s even better at making amends.

The Dark Cloud of the Group

“I don’t really have a handle on this mushy stuff, if I did…we wouldn’t need you.”

Jeff Winger

What a lot of people fail to recognise, is that Britta doesn’t give advice or meddle, because she has nothing better to do. She gets involved simply because she cares. For instance, when she finds Abed his new favourite series – Inspector Spacetime. Or pays for his first film class, which would lead him moving to L.A. to work in the film industry. Or reminds Shirley about her business idea – opening Shirley’s Sandwiches, something she dreamed of doing since she started going to Greendale. Or when she accompanies Jeff, while he reconnects with his dad on Thanksgiving. Finally, if it wasn’t for Britta, who knows how Shirley’s baby would have been delivered. She put aside her fears and did what was necessary: delivered her friend’s baby. Major or minor, these changes affect characters in significant ways. And for someone sorely lacking a sense of self-worth, she is incredible at reminding people of theirs: when Annie is obsessing over Troy, she tells her point-blank, “He is failing YOUR standards, you got that?”. She also encourages them to explore outside the confines of their comfort zones. For instance in Interpretive Dance, when Troy drops modern dance, because he was afraid of the group’s reaction, she tells him that “a real man doesn’t bail on his friends or on himself”. Unwittingly, Britta becomes a catalyst to positive change for all of her friends.

“Britta, there is something in you that wants to take care of people so bad, that you’ll do it until you puke.”

Jeff Winger

What seems to unite the group around Britta is her pathos. As Pierce exclaims, “Her pain unifies us!”. Sadly for Britta, that is true. Nevertheless, she does become that centre, which people naturally gravitate towards when things become too real. She is also the group’s source of compassion – she sees good in people, even when it’s deeply buried. For instance in Spanish 101, when everyone is bagging on Pierce, she defends him by saying, “You know what he did that’s really crazy? He offered me a 100 dollars to switch cards with him just so he could be partners with Jeff. I think he thought getting closer to Jeff would bring him respect in the group. I think he looked out for himself for most of his life, and now he would trade anything for a shot at some kind of family.” I think it is moments like these that everyone is humbled by her presence.

I really hope that she learns to follow her own advice (maybe we will see it in the movie?). She is bright, intelligent and kind. And if she sets her mind on something, there is nothing in the world that will stop her stubborn, curly-haired head from achieving it. I am aware of inconsistencies regarding her character (don’t think for a second that I’m not enraged about that). But, in my opinion, she never lost her essence. Even though her own path is often inconsistent, what is constant is her being there for her friends.

In Praise of Britta Perry

Maybe Britta hasn’t got it all figured out yet. We see her in a transient period, which is familiar to many of us (myself included), when a not-so young person is still trying to find their place in the world. But, in my opinion, by the end of season six she has accomplished things that are no less significant than having a career: she faced her issues of self-hatred, and as a result dated someone who deeply cares for her; she reconnects with her parents after a long separation; and finally, she found six people who she loves and who love her in return. She realised how much braver and resilient she was than she gave herself credit for. Even if she stays a bartender forever, but remains on a self-discovery path, it is already more than enough.

Britta captures the inconsistency of human nature – grit, vulnerability, self-hatred, compassion all shaken together in a Molotov-style cocktail. She is a conduit for raw, unfiltered (yes, I went there) emotion. She is fierce, outspoken and willful, yet also gentle, kind and compassionate. When Britta embraces, she does it with such warmth and trepidation that your heart just melts. In Anthropology 101, the show ironically calls her a ‘people’s champion’, but looking back I’d say that’s exactly who she is. She reminds us that it’s okay not to always excel and be lost in life; it’s okay to have conflicting convictions; it’s okay not to always make sense to everyone else, as long as you’re being true to yourself.

Britta holds a special place in my heart. She showed me how to accept my deeply flawed self by constantly exposing herself to the world. Britta’s story is about removing her armour, piece by piece, and feeling more accepted by herself and in turn, by others. She showed me that just because people disagree with you or even don’t like you sometimes, doesn’t mean that they love you any less.

Bravo, chapeau! and a genuine thank you to Gillian Jacobs for a brilliant portrayal, and Dan Harmon for such a well-written, complex, infinitely enjoyably to watch and to emulate in real life, character.

Yoip! Thank you so much for reading. Hope you made it to the end 🙂 I poured my heart and soul into this piece, because Britta got (is getting) me through some tough times. I sincerely love this woman and I wholeheartedly concur with Troy – Britta Perry is the best.

Also, I would like to thank my sister Mariya for taking the time and rigorously editing my piece, and to the talented Brittaddrawings (check out her art on Instagram!) for artistic contribution and being a fellow Britta fan.

Art credits – Alma Libera

#sixseasonandamovie