Yes, You Love Yancy; But Why? A Ted Talk (Part ½)

What makes a character great? What is it in a fictional person that makes them moving to real people? And whatever those characteristics are, how on earth could one expect to find them in a clearly archetypal, primarily improv-based character designed overwhelmingly for comedic purposes? The answer to all of these questions can be found in “Yancy,” a.k.a. “Prison Mark,” who I will soon show represents a turning point and elevation in Markiplier’s ever-growing talent as a writer and improv creator.



Any time the craft of writing is discussed among writers, character development will be one of the chief topics. Without engaging, vivid characters that mean something to the readers, even the most elegant of plots will fall flat, say the Experts. But how does one make a character vivid and meaningful? Almost any analyst would boil it down to a few things: realistic flaws, relatable motives/desires, inner conflict, and change over time (“character arc” to use the lingo). Let’s explore how Yancy brings all of these elements together, sometimes in moments that last no longer than three words.

Firstly, Yancy is capable of change. Different kinds of change depending on which ending you choose – but it’s most noticeable in the best my favorite ending of the Heist - “I Want to be Free.” Yancy is clearly pretty convinced that jail is great. Yet by the end, he offers a glimmer of hope that maybe someday he might try for parole. He’s pretty scared of himself (more on that in part two), but he hasn’t given up on himself just yet.

Which brings us to inner conflict. No matter how much Yancy sings (or how convincing he is) that jail is great, that is not the real reason he wants to stay inside. He crafts an extremely elegant argument about how great prison is, so he won’t have to acknowledge (or reveal to others) that he’s petrified of life outside. How do we know that? You’ll see in part two. But the bottom line is, he’s lying to himself – instant inner conflict.

Lying to himself is also the chief of Yancy’s flaws. But because any practiced writer could tell you flaws should be layered, it’s not the only one. We can’t forget his temper. It’s probably the most overt of all his qualities (arguably apart from charisma). If lying to himself is Yancy’s core flaw, temper is his surface flaw, which got him into this whole situation from the beginning, prompting him to kill his mother, seriously injure his father, and if you make the wrong move, kick YOU to death in a dance battle.

But we’re not even done yet – because how to you take those flaws and make them relatable? How do you make the audience really connect with this obviously flawed reasoning? You introduce relatable desires and motives. Many of these are laid out overtly in “I Don’t Want to Be Free”: it’s free time, hot showers, interesting friends, everything else Yancy finds to like about prison. But there’s another motive more subtly introduced: his search for stability and belonging. Yancy’s contentment with prison is one thing, but why is he so determined to convince everyone else of the same thing? Because this isn’t just about free room and board – it’s about having a bunch of people who are forced to stay with him and be the stable family he never had on the outside.

But the real reason all of this serves to showcase an elevation of MARK’S talent, is because very little of this is communicated overtly; it’s not overblown. It’s all communicated in just the slightest, subtlest lines and moments - little morsels sprinkled with great restraint, to add depth and richness to without distracting from the comedy. Just in case you’ve never tried to write anything yourself, I will state the obvious: THAT’S HARD. It takes a lot of creativity and a deep understanding of communication.



Later today for part two, I’m making a master list of all the lines and moments Mark used to craft that richness. Stay tuned.



UPDATE: Part Two is now here.