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'You
Can't Take the Sky From Me...'
I
loved the show Firefly.
Sue and I got the DVD
boxed set for Christmas, and watching all of the
episodes (three of which never aired, one I'd missed)
made me realize how great a show it was. But rather
than simply rave about something again, I thought
I'd examine why I thought it was so good.
British
writer Ramsay Campbell, in his introduction to the
first of Alan Moore's Swamp Thing collections
(a birthday present worthy of a rave all its own)
made the point that good comics would not be so noteworthy,
except that they have traditionally been pretty terrible
as far as the writing went.
In
other words, to produce noteworthy quality, you just
have to run faster than the other guy running from
the bear. (Two guys in the woods are being chased
by a bear. One guy says, "Do you think you can
outrun a bear?" to which the other replies, "I
don't have to outrun the bear, I just have to outrun
you.")
Moore's
Swamp Thing (and his other comic work -- Watchmen,
From Hell, and so on) does indeed stand out, because
they took the comic book medium to places it had never
been. It expanded reader's horizons, and thus our
expectations. Frank Miller did the same with his run
on Daredevil, The
Dark Knight Returns, and more. He changed
the way we read comics. (As an example, no one before
Miller had used captions to portray the main character's
thoughts. Before him, writers still used thought bubbles.
Now, captions are a comic standard.)
But
sometimes, something comes along that embraces its
own medium. It doesn't break new ground so much as
it takes the old ground and makes it the best it can
be. This, I think, is what creator Joss Whedon did
with the short-lived series Firefly. He took
the idea of episodic television and all the aspects
of that medium and made them all work perfectly. (One
can argue that he did the same thing with Buffy
the Vampire Slayer. Not being a fan of that show,
it's difficult for me to comment. While I can appreciate
some of the crafting of the characters and plots,
the show was often too melodramatic for me, and dipped
too far into camp and humor for what I wanted from
the show.) I respect someone who really understands
the medium he works in, and uses it well. That's why
I don't mind at all if when moviemakers, when adapting
a book, make needed changes to produce a better film.
(I know it's sacrilegious of me to say, but the scouring
of the Shire would have been a terrible and awkward
ending for The Return of the King movie, despite
how wonderfully it ended the book.)
Specifically,
what I mean regarding Firefly is that Whedon
developed a concept that worked best when seen in
one-hour chunks, over time. The idea of a spaceship
crew going on missions, rather than dealing with some
epic plot, fits perfectly into the media of television.
The writers crafted the pacing of the show's acts
so well--in particular the "mini-cliffhangers"
and plot twists that came at the end of each act --
that it almost seems a shame to watch the show without
commercials, as you do when watching it on DVD. The
pacing is so perfect that it almost seems right to
have to wait three minutes to find out what happens
next.
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From
left: Jayne, Inara, Kaylee, Malcolm, Wash,
Zoe, Simon, Shepherd, and River
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But
you can't talk about Firefly without talking
about the characters. Joss Whedon gave us an almost
absurdly large cast, because we would then never have
to watch the same characters saying or doing the same
kinds of things over and over -- or worse, becoming
mere caricatures of themselves.
Each
character on the show was defined deftly -- and quickly.
As viewers, we understood each character shortly into
the first episode. We learned to like or dislike them
as appropriate -- allowing the writers to play with
our understanding and our likes and dislikes as the
show went on. In the second, third, or ninth show,
we weren't busy still learning what each character
was about (as happens on poorer shows).
And
the characters all fit together like a puzzle. So
many shows start with some interesting character dynamic,
almost always based on conflict or romantic attraction,
but once that situation is resolved, the show becomes
less interesting. Firefly had so many characters,
and each interacted with the others in such interesting
ways you weren't going to tire of the interactions
quickly.
For
example, it seemed that everyone hated Jayne (the
"muscle" on the show), and he gave them
good reason. He was fairly despicable. But the Captain
Malcolm Reynolds respected him (although he didn't
trust him), and eventually the Shepherd (the resident
preacher) got along with him all right. We got to
see a good side of Jayne, or at least the potential
for one, particularly in the episode "Jaynestown."
Then Jayne betrayed Simon (the doctor) and River (his
troubled sister) for the reward money on their heads.
Who would have guessed he would go so far as to become
what we would normally consider a villain? Jayne failed
in his attempt, and in the end was actually embarrassed
about it. Mal's recriminations (and later, to a lesser
degree, a confrontation with the doctor) showed him
that what he did was wrong. We could see it happen.
In an interesting case of watching a character grow
over time, if the show had continued we might have
seen him grow to respect all the other characters.
From the viewer's point of view, in just half a normal
television season, we saw the character go from unlikable
good guy to bad guy and back to likable. Most characters
don't develop that much over the course of an entire
multi-season run, and certainly not in so believable
a way.
It's
really in its characters' relationships that the show
shined brightest. There were not one but two possible
"love interest" relationships, to a powerful
sibling bond, a strong and healthy marriage (something
you don't see all that often on television), two old
war buddies, characters with mysterious backgrounds,
and more. In just a few episodes, these became characters
you felt you knew and wanted to hang around with.
Again, embracing the medium, Whedon created characters
that we actively wanted to spend an hour with each
week, for as long as they would keep coming.
The
setting, of course, deserves some mention as well.
We were given a strange future setting where American
and Chinese cultures had mixed in interesting ways.
(The characters all swore in Chinese, first of all.)
The
show seemed determined to not be typical science fiction.
The dialog went out of its way to avoid words like
"space," "spaceship," or even
"ship" (preferring "sky" or "the
black," and "boat"). Things seemed
antiquated as well as futuristic in a mixture that,
at least in the 13 episodes we have, never grew tiresome.
In fact it was always fascinating to get drawn into
the show's "Western" feel, only to suddenly
realize that the doorway leading into the old-fashioned
ballroom had a high-tech scanner set to detect weapons.
It was a jarring juxtaposition that never felt as
though we'd seen it a hundred times before.
It
was interesting to see the fusion of two oh-so-familiar
genres (Westerns and space opera) become some new
and interesting. When I first watched, I had heard
about this fusion, but shrugged it off. I'd read all
my life about how Star Trek was "Wagon
Train to the stars," and Star Wars
was a Western, and so I just didn't expect the level
to which Whedon would take the idea -- characters
who speak in a Western vernacular, in cowboy hats,
train robberies, settlers, and so on. Perhaps it was
a bit jarring at first. But if you gave it a chance,
you saw that it really worked. The whole thing could
really be wrapped up in a single image, played amid
the show's opening credits every week: a herd of mustangs
running across the landscape with a spaceship zooming
behind them.
So
why, if the show was so great, did it get canceled
so quickly? There were lots of excuses and explanations,
but I have my own theories. I suspect, for example,
that the network executives overrated the pull of
Joss Whedon's name. While "Buffy" had become
something of a phenomenon, the truth was, the show
never had spectacular ratings. That show's success
came in its fervent fan base -- not as large as the
viewership for say, Friends, but probably a
lot more loyal and a lot more willing to buy merchandise.
That audience's loyalty had been built over years,
one episode at a time, and Firefly was never
given that chance.
Mostly,
though, I think the show was in the wrong place at
the wrong time. Had it been on a smaller network (UPN
or WB), it probably would have been better appreciated.
Had it not come on Fox, when Fox was in the middle
of reality-show success, it would have been given
a chance. Reality shows are incredibly cheap to produce
(the main reason there are so many of them despite
the fact that most don't have great ratings or advertiser
support), and I'm sure that a nine-cast-member show
with great sets and decent special effects was not.
There's
talk of a Firefly movie, now, and apparently
it's all the more likely because the DVD set was somewhat
successful. However, the idea doesn't thrill me. Oh,
I'll happily go see it and I'm sure I'll enjoy it
very much, but in my mind it's no better than getting
one more episode. Firefly was carefully designed
to take advantage of the television medium, and that's
where it belongs.
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