I watched way too much television as a kid, specifically the kind I was too young for. When I was 11, I’d sneak in episodes of British “Love Island” before going to school. My sister and I would come home from school and watch “Glee” like it was our job, and then we’d top it off with a nightcap of “Supernatural” and maybe sneak in some “Lost” for dessert. If it were a cable television show meant for teenagers and above, I was a religious devotee.

But above all, I had one ride-or-die show: Ryan Murphy’s underrated masterpiece, “Scream Queens.” I was admittedly a little bit of a Murphy fan, though I didn’t know it was the same person behind “Glee” and “American Horror Story,” but “Scream Queens” was it for me. 

I’d wait until 9 p.m. — midnight came early for the west coasters, suckers — for episodes to upload onto Prime Video so I could download them and watch eagerly on my Kindle Fire tablet. If I missed them the night before, I’d get up to watch them before school or watch them on my way to swim practice with my headphones on in the car. 

There certainly are a lot of scream queens on screen during both seasons — that’s right, both seasons, as in the second season may not be as good as the first, but it’s still good — but there’s only one true scream king: Chad Radwell, played by none other than Glen Powell.

Radwell, a metrosexual frat guy in a toxic, on-again-off-again relationship with the sorority president and target of a murder spree, Chanel Oberlin (Emma Roberts), is not only one of the funniest characters in the show but also one of the funniest characters on television as a whole.

And it’s all thanks to Powell’s impeccable comedic timing, something the world caught a glimpse of during his stint as host on “Saturday Night Live,” but I’ve appreciated it since my tweenage years.

The world largely knows Powell as a leading man that has come into his own over the years after starring in some romantic comedies like “Set It Up” (2018) and “Anyone But You” (2023) but has entered a new era as a leading man in action movies like “Hit Man” (2023), “Twisters” (2024) and “The Running Man.”

However, no matter what he does, no matter how many “Top Gun: Maverick” (2022) shoot-offs he’s in or charming masculine-guy roles he plays, he will always be Chad Radwell to me.

His SNL hosting brought his comfort in comedy to the forefront, which was unsurprising to me but unexpected to some others. Powell’s sense of humor and charm color his performances, which is why he has gained popularity, but hosting SNL takes more than being funny: a host needs to have technical comedy knowledge, like knowing their place in the sketch and being dynamic in a live setting. Most importantly, Powell was weird.

Weird men on screen have been horrifically underrepresented in recent years as action movies take the forefront and biopics proliferate, stifling comedy and leaving no room for anything but blue-steel drama and manly explosions.

I remember a time when Timothée Chalamet was a strange, quirked-up white boy taking arthouse roles and dancing to Nicki Minaj on stage. I remember a time in which Austin Butler had a weird Elvis voice for months because he got lost in the Presley sauce. I remember a time in which LaKeith Stanfield was a silly-but-sexy cop in “Knives Out” (2019). Now all three of them are serious actors in upcoming films, looking incredible in Vanity Fair’s Hollywood 2025 edition.

And I’ve had enough! Not of them looking good, by the way, but of seriousness: blockbusters are out and nuanced, but multifaceted cinema is in.

Most of the leading men in dramatic arts range from classical training to having entered the industry with ambition alone. But with extensive experience in dramatic roles comes the capacity for confidence, freedom of movement and play within a performance, something that comes about when you give dramatic actors the chance to let loose. And the industry owes it to them to give them those chances.

It’s the reason why leading veterans of major franchises often step back from the spotlight, opting for stranger, more artistically driven roles once they’ve made their money and can explore themselves as actors away from the spotlight.

Daniel Radcliffe and Viggo Mortensen — Harry Potter and Aragorn, son of Arathorn, respectively — have some of the least predictable careers following the staggering success of their respective franchises, and yet they’re still respectable actors.

Blockbusters and critical shoe-ins, like biopics, are like the business or engineering majors of film — you can cover your bases financially and then do something strange and exciting. There’s nothing wrong with finding joy in something financially rewarding, but when it comes to art, veering down the path of the predictably profitable leaves projects feeling stale and acting performances one-dimensional.

Rather than perpetuating a tired on-screen facade of serious men, we need more bizarre, nuanced explorations of masculinity in cinema. Instead of John Manly #5 played by Glen Powell in “Explosions McGhee,” we need Chad Radwell or Powell in a ponytail-length wig singing about missing his daughter’s ex-boyfriend. We need evil frat guys that are in homoerotic friendships with their sketchy best friends, played by Nick Jonas — and you can quote me on that.

Anna Jordan is a junior writing about pop culture controversies in her column, “Chronically Online,” which runs every other Thursday. She is also an Arts and Entertainment editor at the Daily Trojan.