Everyone has favorite film and TV characters. A few of mine are the drifter with dubious morals in “Pale Rider,” the stifled suburban teen in “The Ice Storm‚” and the country singer’s sweet muse in “Blaze.”
But that’s not what I’m talking about. This is different. In recent months, I’ve found myself yearning to be friends with characters I’ve just encountered on screen. I don’t just like these people; I want to hang out with them.
It’s a powerful impulse and, for me, a completely new one. I was drawn to Greta Gerwig’s awkward aspiring dancer in “Frances Ha,” but she didn’t linger once I left the theater. Same with Jeff Bridges’s flinty Texas Ranger in “Hell or High Water.” What’s changed? The world is rotten. There is so much cruelty, incompetence, greed, arrogance, stupidity, hypocrisy, and ineptitude that I’ve started to crave the company of people — even if they’re fictional — who are the opposite of all that. And not in a phony, feel-good way. I don’t need saintly; decent will do.
I first noticed this shift while watching “Dept. Q," the noirish Netflix cop show about an Edinburgh detective tapped to create a new cold-case unit. The detective, Carl Morck, is a misanthrope and not very likable, but I was struck by his sidekick, a stoic Syrian immigrant named Akram Salim whose competence is disarming.
Played by actor Alexej Manvelov, Akram, it’s clear, suffered some heavy trauma in Syria (the character’s opaque backstory may be explored in future seasons of the show), but the experience, whatever it was, hasn’t rendered him shaky or volatile. Indeed, Akram’s chief attribute is his stability; the guy is utterly capable, and his calm, low-key intelligence proves essential to solving a missing-person case that languished so long it was frozen.
He’s unassuming, but Akram is not meek. When Morck interrupts his prayers (Akram is Muslim), he doesn’t flare; Akram understands Morck’s blind spots. But later, he closes the loop with his partner, calmly telling him: “Carl, when I am praying, don’t interrupt me.” And while Akram does not relish violence — he’s the anti-John Wick — he’s capable of it, as when he breaks the femur of a tough guy dispatched to intimidate him.
I’m not sure “Dept. Q” needed nine episodes to tell this story, but it was a treat to spend so many hours with Akram. Honest and trustworthy, he’s an avatar for everything the world is not at the moment, and I look forward to hanging out with him again in season 2.
Fast forward a few months to a Sunday matinee of “One Battle After Another” at AMC Assembly Row in Somerville. Based on several reviews, I was prepared to like Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest movie, but I didn’t expect to be so heartened — uplifted, really — by Benicio del Toro’s can-do character, Sensei Sergio St. Carlos. (He’s a martial-arts teacher, but also a wise person who helps the vulnerable. Imagine that.)
Sensei operates an underground railroad for migrants, and he does it with a generous smile, even as the US military is gathered outside his door in El Paso. Unlike Leonard Di Caprio’s frantic, bathrobe-clad character, Bob, Sensei is under control. Watching Bob fall apart, Sensei tries to soothe him, repeating: “Ocean waves, Bob, ocean waves.” It’s a mantra I’ve adopted. I say it often around the house, usually in response to something awful in the news. Thank you, Sensei.
Later in the movie, when Bob escapes the hospital, he’s surprised to find Sensei at the wheel of a waiting car — with cold beer, no less. That’s someone we all need in our friend group. Bob eventually jumps out of the car, leaving Sensei to get pulled over by the cops. (Del Toro’s improvised dance when Sensei steps out of the vehicle is surely one of the reasons the actor’s performance in “One Battle After Another” is nominated for an Oscar.)
I want more Akrams and Senseis in my life. As the world gets uglier, I need them. Ideally, they would live in my neighborhood and we’d go out and grab dinner once in a while. But if I have to go to the movies to be with them, I’ll do it.
Mark Shanahan can be reached at mark.shanahan@globe.com.