How Luke Perry Won The Battle Against Riverdale's Darkness

Fred Andrews was a white knight in the town of Riverdale, where serpent-themed biker gangs, drug-peddling nuns, and mafioso-adjacent kingpins run rampant. Over the course of three seasons, Luke Perry imbued the parental character with the sort of warmth that brought color to the town’s dreary atmosphere, its air weighed down by constantly broiling secrets. As soon as I missed his star-making role in Beverly Hills, 90210, I became a fan of Perry — who died earlier this week at the age of 52 — through Riverdale. Nevertheless a supporting efficiency, the gravity of his role and portrayal made his character an avatar for justice in pop culture.


Through Fred Andrews, I learned the power of a subtle smile.


Riverdale is a show about power, and, often times, it comes from its characters’ ability to hide their shady dealings. The black of those teenagers’ pupils supply portals to their darkest secrets. The show’s main four — Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews, Jughead Jones, and Veronica Lodge — are good kids at heart who get into some (very) bad things. Once they flit and flat, exploring the confounds of love, lust, and murder, their parents are revealed to be heightened versions of those, as are all parents to their kids. Archie Andrews habitually tries to do the correct thing, like his dad, even if he goes about it the incorrect way. There's something of a moral compass in him, however it's not completely formed.


In the opening episode, we're introduced to Fred Andrews, a construction firm owner who puts his entire body in the dirt, not just his hands. He gets a surprise visit from Veronica’s mother, the sharply dressed Hermione Lodge who is later revealed to be someone that he shares a past with. Fred's greeting to her is warm, inviting, and stern. She’s looking for a seasonal position and tries her best to power her way into the job. Initially, Fred is distant, however even in his apprehension, there’s altruism — a male who, some days against his better judgement, wants to give people the benefit of the doubt.


it could sound platitudinous, that his heart of gold made the absence of his character felt any time once he wasn’t in the frame. Perry's truthful portrayal of Fred Andrews helped the character become more than a knowing father to Archie Andrews as well as a voice of reason to the main cast, yet also a patriarch for viewers at residence who are just attempting to live their lives just a little better. His piercing gaze looked for the truth in Archie’s lies, and in doing so, he saw into our souls also. His campaign for mayor in Season 3 was build onto honesty as an alternative opposed to insults, transparency with motives as an alternative opposed to lies. On paper, Fred sounds like a saint, literally also good to be true. However Perry's efficiency grounded the guardian's loftiness with the late actor's grizzled past. There’s a bad boy edge just beyond the smile.


One of the show’s most jarring choices comes at the end of the opening season once Fred gets shot in the chest, sending Archie, and the rest of Riverdale, into a dark pit of violence and gloom. It’s almost symbolic; Fred Andrews, Riverdale’s bearded saint, swallowed in darkness from a gentleman wearing a black hood, an omen and harbinger of death. Without his presence, Archie starts to prepare reckless decisions that involve carrying a gun for retribution, making a cringe-y hunting squad, and recklessly putting himself and those around him in danger. As soon as Fred finally returns, so does the show's moral center.


With Fred around, Riverdale felt a little bit more grounded, a tad more balanced. Perry’s portrayal of a father struggling to be a role model for his son in a town full of sin pulled us into his comforting orbit. The other three fathers of Riverdale — Betty’s dad Hal Cooper, who turned out the be the murderous Black Hood, retired Southside Serpent gang leader F.P Jones, and Devil-incarnate Hiram Lodge — all have varying degrees of darkness lurking beneath their brows. However not once during Riverdale’s three seasons do you question the truth of Fred's character. Once he consoles his son, it’s from a place of understanding, solidified by Perry's firm however warm embrace.


Fred Andrews became my main go to character because of his constant wisdom, both knowing and unknowing. Even any time if he wasn't giving suggestions to his son and the other denizens of Riverdale, Fred was something of a holy presence.


It feels weird knowing that the show's all-knowing father figure won’t be in his home once the show needs him to be — drinking coffee in the kitchen and waiting for Archie to walk in, willing to ask his son about his day and issue him a tired smile. With Fred gone, Riverdale is a little bit dimmer now.