But why? Why are we so obsessed with fictional families tearing each other apart over inheritances, betrayals, and long-buried secrets? And more importantly, what makes a "family drama" storyline resonate so deeply that it feels less like fiction and more like a mirror held up to our own Thanksgiving dinners?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my phone is ringing. It’s my mother. I should probably take this. What is the most compelling family drama you’ve ever watched or read? Does it mirror your own family dynamics? Let me know in the comments below.

We watch to see how they survive the dinner table, so we can figure out how to survive our own.

So the next time you settle in to watch a dynasty crumble over a bad business deal or a family vacation ruined by a passive-aggressive game of Monopoly, remember: you aren't watching a show. You are watching a ritual. A bloody, beautiful, complex ritual about the people who know exactly which buttons to push because they installed them.

When you write a complex family relationship, your antagonist should be able to articulate exactly why they are right. And the audience should, for a fleeting moment, agree with them. Why do we binge these shows? Because family drama offers a form of catharsis that action movies cannot. When John Wick kills the bad guys, we feel a rush. But when the Black family in Succession finally— finally —tells Logan to "fuck off," or when the Pearson family in This Is Us gathers around a dying Rebecca, we weep.