My beloved Rebecca and I reeeeally like Ted Lasso.
We must’ve watched through the whole series four or five times by now.
But before I dive into all the soccer (whoops, football!) stuff, a quick plug for the third episode of the Page and Stage Podcast, featuring special guest USA Today bestselling author Don Bruns.
It just dropped yesterday (and new episodes will continue to drop early each Thursday morn!), and already two listeners have emailed in.
Sidenote: I love getting listener emails. As my high school history teacher always said after hitting us with a lecture or fun fact: “Questions? Comments? Complaints?” Send ‘em my way!
Listener Nancy said: What a truly excellent interview! I didn't want it to end! Don’s humor and new details and enthusiasm were so enjoyable.
And listener Joel chimed in: I was knocked out by the content and the style of the podcast and learned so much from Don’s wonderful reminiscences. Bravo!!
You can verify Nancy and Joel’s claims by listening to the Page and Stage Podcast wherever you prefer to get your voices: right here on Substack, or on Apple, Spotify, YouTube, etc.
Back to Ted Lasso’s eyes…
So there’s a terrific bit of sneaky storytelling structure going on in the way each season of Ted Lasso opens and closes. Because even though the name of the show is Ted Lasso, he’s not actually the main character of seasons 1 and 2.
Sidenote: if you haven’t watched Ted Lasso, Rebecca and I recommend it HIGHLY. Season 1 is practically perfect. Ignore the naysayers about Season 3. Yes, it’s the bumpiest, and I can squabble about the super clunky use of new characters and the subversion of Keeley’s character arc, but the humor and the elevation of kindness and forgiveness as treasured values make the entire journey well worth it!
OK, Jason, seriously, enough sidenoting, what’s up with Ted Lasso’s eyes??
Check it out. Season 1’s first close-up shot of a main character isn’t on Ted. It’s on Rebecca, the owner of the football club and Ted’s new boss, not to be confused with my beloved Rebecca. And the absolute final shot of Season 1, ten episodes later, is another close-up of Rebecca’s face. See?
First close-up of Season 1 to the left. Final close-up of Season 1 to the right.
Season 2, same thing. The very first shot is a close-up not of Ted, but of Coach Nate. See?
Opening shot of Season 2 to the left. Final shot of Season 2 to the right.
Only when we get to Season 3 does Ted Lasso actually become “about” Ted Lasso. Here’s the opening shot of Season 3…
And the closing shot of Season 3 (which is the closing shot of the entire series)…
One of the surest ways to identify the central character of any story is to ask: Who changes the most?
Ted Lasso, even as it glories in ensemble work, clues us into the “who changes most” answer with these opening and closing close-ups of eyes. In Season 1, it is Rebecca who not only changes most, but who motors the majority of the plot points. In Season 2, Nate does this heavy lifting, changing from beloved friend to avowed enemy. In a real way, Ted himself is the excuse for the other characters to go through their changes. In Season 3, he finally gets to undergo the biggest change and drive the story.
So what? Why do the writers/directors choose to do this? It’s all about FRAMING, or the LENS through which the story is told. How the storyteller wants the story-receiver to understand the tale. The arc of Season 1, if viewed through the lens of Ted, doesn’t quite land. But if you swap out Ted-colored sunglasses for Rebecca-colored, suddenly the entire story snaps into focus. Same with Season 2. It’s not Ted’s story. It’s Nate’s. And all the themes ring more truly and loudly when you receive the story that way.
This whole framing/lens thing and the tension between title character and true central character goes way way back. If it was good enough for Shakespeare (The Merchant of Venice, etc) and George Lucas (in Return of the Jedi, which Jedi is actually returning? Luke or Vader/Anakin? hmmm…), then it’s good enough for Ted Lasso.
But the final point I’d like to offer today…
This reframing idea can be a practice that brings artistry and generosity into our own day-to-day lives. Because here’s the thing: you are the title character of your life. Your story.
But everyone else is the title character of theirs.
What if you were to put on someone else’s lens, just for a moment? How might you then see the relationship between your story and theirs? What might you learn about your own choices and behaviors, when framed by the fact that no one else in the world sees you as the central character?
Even if you are Ted Lasso, what if you were to view your story, just for a moment, through Rebecca-colored sunglasses? Or Nate-colored? Imagine what you could learn about yourself. And how much more empathy you’d have for others.
This is why storytelling, in all its forms, matters so much. Stories supercharge empathy.
Today, I’m grateful to be a supporting character in YOUR story.
Jason “One More Sidenote” Cannon