When I was with my ex T, a man of very literal imagination about some things, I often had to remind him that the irrational or unpleasant things in a movie were there to drive the story. If everyone were nice and did the rational thing, the story would be A) boring and B) over in two minutes.
My love (and kinda hate, I realize) affair with Brit mysteries continues with Inspector Lynley. Without the homely, angry, cold, bitter, narcissistic, resentful, empty, joyless, paranoid bitch who is his partner, (not to put too fine a point on it) a lot of the energy of the story would be lost. I am no fan of inferior people with a chronic chip of their shoulders.
But I think I could live with that.