Where Did All the Sidekicks Go?

Do you remember all the side characters that made the story sparkle? 

I can't be the only one who fell for the sidekick more often than not. I haven't felt that in quite some time, and I miss it.

It used to be pure storytelling magic. And it didn't happen by accident. You could tell the author put in the work, crafting a secondary role that has real weight, personality, and genuine purpose. Some of these sidekicks used to be so vivid, they could've stepped into their own spin-off series without breaking a sweat.

But lately, somewhere along the way, many of these dynamic side characters vanished.

I didn't even realize it had happened until I read a post on Threads complaining about the lack of good side characters in modern fiction. That made me think: Why are so many modern side characters feeling less like real people and more like cardboard tools used to move the hero from Plot Point A to B?

While I don't have an answer, there are a few reasons that give me food for thought.

A Quick Look Back: When Supporting Casts Ruled

If you cast your mind back, literature is packed with supporting characters who weren't just background noise. They were essential. They are the reason we often remember the book, even if we forget the protagonist's name.

• Mercutio (from Romeo and Juliet): The definition of a scene-stealer. His cynicism and wit were so infectious that, supposedly, Shakespeare had to kill him off just to keep the play focused on the main couple. That’s power.
• Samwise Gamgee (from The Lord of the Rings): Let's be honest, Sam is the true hero of the story. He’s the foundation of loyalty and resilience, resisting the Ring's pull because all he wants is a nice garden back in the Shire. He totally outshines Frodo.
• Behemoth (from The Master and Margarita): You can't write a better sidekick than a massive, talking, drinking, sassy cat who follows the Devil. Pure dimensionality.
• Éponine (from Les Misérables): Her whole tragic existence and defiant love for Marius perfectly capture the brutal themes of Hugo's novel. She’s a masterpiece of heartbreak and boldness.

These characters stick with us because their authors gave them a real interior life. Who’s the secondary character you still think about? Let me know!

The Writer’s Dilemma: Intentionality is the Secret Sauce

Let's talk shop. In fiction, supporting characters have a job—a big one. They need to act as mirrors, foils, or catalysts. They are there to challenge the protagonist, deepen the story's emotional landscape, and reinforce the themes.

A novel greatly improves when the supporting characters are well-developed.

When they're not? Readers feel it immediately. A boring supporting cast drains tension and flattens the emotional stakes. These folks don't need dozens of pages, but they absolutely need intentionality—a clear sense that the author cared enough to give them more than one handy quirk or a descriptive job title.

The Bottom Line: If readers can’t feel something about your supporting cast, you’ve already lost a piece of your story’s soul.

A Cultural Theory: Maybe Our Stories Reflect Our Isolation

Here’s an angle that’s a little less about craft and more about life.

We are living in a moment of intense individualism and, frankly, increasing social isolation. Finding that true, messy, reciprocal sense of community is tough for a lot of people. And when our real social circles shrink, our fictional worlds often contract right along with them.

In this model, modern stories tend to dump all the complex backstory, all the growth potential, and all the emotional weight squarely on the protagonist. The people around them become a predictable set of props: the quirky co-worker, the loyal-to-a-fault best friend, the mentor who conveniently knows all the answers. They orbit the hero, but they have zero pull of their own.

When our society narrows its focus down to "me," our fiction often follows suit.

The Empathy Factor: Imagination Needs a Workout

This next theory is a bit tougher to swallow: creating a robust supporting cast requires advanced emotional literacy and a big dose of observation and empathy.

If an author struggles to truly imagine experiences outside of their own bubble, their secondary characters will inevitably come out flat. Likewise, if readers only engage with characters who feel like perfect reflections of themselves, their tolerance for depth and complexity in supporting roles simply disappears.

Complexity requires patience, time, and attention. From both the person writing and the person reading. And those three things are starting to feel like luxury items.

Why We Need Them: The Story Needs a Heartbeat

The decline of the well-written supporting cast isn't just a missed opportunity; it diminishes the entire storytelling experience.

A great ensemble gives your world depth. It allows the protagonist to grow in ways that are impossible when they’re surrounded by blank archetypes. Often, the real heart of a story doesn't live in the hero at all—it lives in the people who challenge, support, or unexpectedly steal the entire scene.

Without those strong voices, the world feels tiny. And so does the story itself.

A Friendly Nudge for Writers (and Readers)

So, if you’re writing, consider this your challenge: Look beyond the main character. Even if they only get three lines, give your supporting cast a pulse. Give them a hidden motive.

And if you're a reader, keep singing the praises of those unforgettable secondary characters. Talk about them! Let authors know that these are the folks who make the book truly memorable.

Because sometimes, the best part of the entire story is the person standing just off to the side—the one with the sharp retort, the secret pain, or the perfect moment of unexpected kindness.