By Bob Clark
If you’re a regular reader here at Wonders and you’re familiar at all with any of the pieces I’ve written before, then you probably know a handful of things about me– that Heaven’s Gate is my second favorite film; that I consider game-design a valid form of criticism, cinematic or otherwise; that I’m a huge fan of Star Wars and George Lucas in general; and that I more or less can’t stand the works of Joss Whedon. It’s those two last points that come into stark relief when I chose to re-examine Firefly, his first abortive attempt at television sci-fi and a classic example of a show whose cult-popularity runs in direct proportion with the degree to which its network failed to understand it. Like Twin Peaks two decades ago and Jericho from the past ten years, Whedon’s tale of space-cowboys on the run from Johnny Law only lived and breathed on the air for a short while before an untimely cancellation, only to finally find its key demographic in its eventual DVD release and a resurrection of sorts in the form of a follow-up motion picture, Serenity.
I missed the program entirely during its ever-so-short stay on the Fox line-up (one could say the title Whedon chose was apt, as the series’ lifespan was only marginally longer than an actual lightning bug) and wasn’t too motivated to check it out later, after hearing it came from the guy who created Buffy the Vampire Slayer (a combination of comic-book camp and 90210-soap that just ain’t my thing). Furthermore, whenever I got into conversations with devoted fans of the show (who took to calling themselves “Browncoats”, after the rebel heroes of the series itself), I couldn’t help but feel that I was constantly being put on the spot to declare an affiliation in what they viewed was some kind of ongoing struggle against the monolithic corporation that had snuffed out the life of their beloved program. It didn’t help matters that the same corporation was also making billions for releasing Lucas’ new Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, a set of films that most Browncoats hated for any number of reasons, not the least of which being their creator’s long-known tin ear for dialogue, as opposed to the “gift” for talkative characters that Whedon has shown.That the same media conglomerate that had greenlit one ambitious, sprawling space-opera franchise in the movies had now decided to cancel another one on television barely into its first year only added insult to injury.
Considering that I was (and remain) a die-hard fan of the Prequels, it always turned into some kind of conflict between those two pieces of science-fiction, and between their creators in general. To this day, if you were to ask me which one I thought was better, I would say the newer Star Wars films without any hesitation. But I will admit that back then, I gave Firefly a dreadfully short shrift– when finally viewed outside of the polarizing discourse of internet fanaticism, it is not only a surprisingly good piece of science-fiction, but a number of other things as well. It’s evidence of Whedon’s growing talents both with the written word and behind the camera as director and showrunner for the series, proving that he can write dialogue that doesn’t have to be peppered with 20th century pop-culture references every other word and that he’s capable of just as much strong visual, even silent storytelling. It’s a breath of fresh air for a genre that has been more or less stagnant between the poles of gee-whiz science fantasy adventures and increasingly dark, bleak visions of dystopian futures. Most of all, however, it may just be the most interesting cinematic commentary of George Lucas’ Star Wars films, and those of the Prequel Trilogy especially (or at least the ones that came out during production). If Godard was right when he said that the best way to critique a film is to make one of your own, then Firefly extends it to a larger canvas of serial storytelling
But enough preamble. Here’s how it is: far into the future “after the Earth got used up” and humanity migrates to a new galaxy to terraform new planets for life, Malcolm Reynolds captains the Serenity, a small “Firefly” class starship whose outdated systems and nook-and-cranny bulk make it a perfect choice for the smuggling, robberies and other assorted illegal activities that make up Reynolds’ bread and butter. Crewed by veterans of a failed rebellion to keep all the new planets from centralizing under the federal government of the Alliance, the Serenity becomes home to pretty much any brand of wayfarer possible who needs to stay out of the powers-that-be– a rich doctor who freed his prodigy sister from an government laboratory where she was being turned into a psychic soldier; a kindly old preacher who seems to know just a little bit too much about crime for his profession; and a classy prostitute whose status in high society is far more respectable than any of them could ever hope to be. With enemies like Alliance agents, rival criminals and worst of all, the zombie-like Reavers– “men who went mad on the edge of space”– the crew and passengers of the Serenity aren’t out to start a revolution, get rich quick or carve out a chunk of the ‘Verse to conquer and rule as their own. All they want to do is stay alive, and stay one step ahead of everybody else, preferably in that order.
On the surface, it pretty much sounds like the plot of every single space-opera since the advent of Star Wars (or even before it, as well), but what Whedon does not simply regurgitate the same old dominant strains in science-fiction for the past thirty-odd years. Instead, he does something close to what Lucas managed back in ’77, resurrecting the substance and style of the originals and holding up its elements both to analyze them from an intellectual standpoint, and to provide some good old fashioned fun. It’s a trait that was present throughout Buffy, where at times wildly different, at times polar-opposite characters could sound as though they were mouthpieces for a single pop-culture addict, but here Whedon is able to express homage outside of mere dialogue and put it concretely into his story’s action and visualization. The world of Firefly is one that has fully digested the better part of three decades’ worth of science-fiction in films, television, comic-books, literature, and video-games. With its layered mis-en-scene, dystopian atmosphere and global-cultural mix (especially its blend of Mandarin dialect and profanity into everyday English) it evokes the neo-noir feeling of Blade Runner (indeed, if it weren’t for the lack of Replicants, this maybe what that film’s “off-world” civilization would look like). With its motley crew of offbeat criminals and escaped human lab-rats drifting in outer-space bouncing from heist to heist like a band on the road looking for gigs, it carries the jazzy, improvizational flavor of anime like Cowboy Bebop and Outlaw Star. With the lack of any alien life, strict adherence to scientific-fact (no sound in the vacuum, everybody wears space-suits outside), it recalls the work of hard sci-fi writers like Issac Asimov, Richard Robert Heinlein and Orson Scott Card (who would count himself among the show’s own fans).
Most of all, however, with its underdog rebels, oppressive government stormtroopers and charismatic cowboy in charge, it stands as an obvious, confident and sometimes defiant answer to the Star Wars saga, at times specifically responding to the Prequel Trilogy especially in its portrayal of a galaxy divided by class into two halves– a privileged few of central capital planets where civilization has blossomed with prosperity, luxury and ease, and the outer-rim systems where settlers struggle to make ends meet, with little or no help from a corrupt, bureaucratic government. Starting with 1999’s The Phantom Menace, Lucas charted the course of his new trilogy to detail the fall of his Galactic Republic as a slow, gradual decline into the dictatorial reign of the Evil Empire, illustrating how a politician like Palpatine could rise to absolute power through a series of carefully staged proxy-wars, an increasing erosion of civil-liberties in the names of security and military-industry and the betrayal and scapegoating of one-time heroes into a propaganda machine’s hated enemies. While that somewhat stale-sounding narrative managed to provide enough thrills, excitement and wonder for the majority of filmgoers who pushed TPM and the subsequent Prequels into the box-office stratosphere, there remained a vocal contingent of old-fans who longed for the simple good-and-evil Manichean conflict of the originals, and the uncomplicated charm of the actors they’d grown up with years before, and judging from the occasional joke on Buffy or the odd interview here and there, one might suspect that’s squarely where Whedon himself would’ve fallen.
What’s present in Firefly, however, shows us something else– instead of simply disdaining any and all artifacts from the newer Star Wars films and embracing the older films as a primary cinematic influence, Whedon picks up key aspects from both and holds them up as objects of inspection and inspiration alike. While his heroes are primarily tied to the characterizations of the Original Trilogy– hard hewn, plain speaking outlaws, rebels and team-oriented individualists– the world which they occupy bears more and more resemblance to the heavily stylized and socially mannered world of the Prequels. From the scrap-heap underclass look of its criminal sectors to the gleaming, elegant design of its posh uppercrust sectors, Whedon’s ‘Verse is one that borrows heavily from The Phantom Menace‘s peerless mix of art-deco cityscapes, belle epoque courtyards and classic Italianate architecture for a look of the future that bears striking similarity to fairy-tale visions of the past. Most of the time he associates the Prequel’s influence with the forces of the Alliance, which evokes the Original Trilogy’s heroic vanguard in name but resembles the Galactic Republic of the newer films in their casual inability, or unwillingness, to get anything done. Here, Whedon can be seen nodding his head in agreement to Lucas, who made the Republic’s bureaucratic laziness a key point in TPM, both in the larger plot of Naboo’s invasion by the capitalistic Trade Federation and in the smaller, more intimately scaled story of young Anakin’s childhood as a slave on Tatooine. “The Republic doesn’t exist out here,” is the only answer the boy’s virgin mother can muster up when asked about anti-slavery laws by the idealistic Padme (our Hidden Fortress-style Queen in disguise, slumming it with the Skywalkers), and the same could easily be said of the Alliance. It wasn’t evil, necessarily– it just put up too much red-tape to do any good.
If Whedon is sometime parroting Lucas’ anti-bureaucratic message throughout the series, however, it must be said that in absorbing the social and political content from the newer Star Wars trilogy, he is able to articulate their substance with a clearer, stronger brand of dramatic urgency than was present in the Prequels in all but their most epic moments of mythic iconicism. Instead of merely allowing so much of the essential intrigue express itself through stilted sequences of high-speech and production design, Whedon puts his class conflicts first and foremost in the narrative movement itself, allowing everything that Lucas was content to bubble subtly under the surface come surging out to the viewer, clear as day. Though blinded by conspiratorial wool pulled over their eyes, most of the Prequel’s heroes of priestly Jedi Knights and aristocratic Senators are fighting for a status-quo in the death throes of a transition into despotism; whereas the crew of the Serenity, more akin to the protagonists of the Original Trilogy, are more often than not fighting against the establishment, or at least doing their best to subvert it while not getting caught. But Lucas was playing a meta-game, comparing and contrasting the archetypes of his own cinematic impact from the 70’s and 80’s, expecting audiences to remember the paths taken by the heroes of future-past while while watching their history-yet-to-come unfold– a long-run gambit that certainly paid off in the final score, but not without a fair share of Monday morning quarterbacking in the meantime. Whedon, on the other hand, has a far simpler, yet by no means easier job of weaving a new serial tapestry with the stuff of his own borrowed yarns.
By following Lucas’ example and climbing up to stand on the shoulders of giants past, he’s able to make Firefly a narrative told with a great deal more immediate impact and quality, even if it is occasionally less ambitious in its own serial quality. A key question when reading the series, however, is whether or not Whedon is in open conflict with the newer Star Wars films, or in a more open dialogue with them. True, most of the Prequel-isms are associated with the dystopian Alliance throughout, but there’s more than enough wickedness to be found on the lower-income side of the spectrum as well. Beyond the mere threat of rival criminal factions and bounty hunters (another artifact lifted from Lucas), Whedon and his team of writers were willing to spread negative depictions amongst many of the same downtrodden settlers and workers that much of the series strove to sympathize. The simple, salt-of-the-terraformed-earth working class heroes who sweated to till the lands and mine the resources of their alien soils could often be a surprisingly ignorant lot, sometimes naive enough to turn a petty thief into a town hero or violent enough to try and burn a girl at the stake for fear of witchcraft. Furthermore, citizens from the Alliance like the Tam siblings, the civilized courtesan Inara (whose culture-clash courtship with Captain Mal sometimes resembled a fanfic romance between Han Solo and Padme Amidala) and the elusive Shepherd Book prove that you could come from the “bright center of the universe” and still wind up becoming a rebel along the way (just like the heroes of the Prequels, in macro-serial vision). “There are heroes on both sides,” as the opening crawl of Revenge of the Sith would eventually read. “Evil is everywhere”.
Indeed, with the florid visuals, political landscape and occasionally mild-mannered heroes, the strongest homages from the Star Wars films tended to arise from the more recent films than what Kevin Smith called the “Holy Trilogy” in Clerks. Truth be told, the main crew of the Serenity resembled less that of the Millennium Falcon and more the wisecracking blue-collar heroes of Ridley Scott and James Cameron’s Alien films (to say nothing of Whedon’s own contribution to that particular franchise in the Jean-Pierre Jeunet directed calamity Alien Resurrection). As such, Firefly can less be seen as a series in open opposition to the Prequels than it is in a heated, at times even passionate debate with it. It’s a creative endeavor that continued in the series’ feature-film continuation, Serenity, where at times Whedon appeared to be following Lucas’ cinematic footsteps so subtly it might well have been unconscious. Take the crucial plot-point of the Miranda, a planet which Captain Mal and his crew visit in order to investigate a settlement that became the birthplace of the Reavers and erased from all record by a shady Alliance cover-up. Not only does it mimic Attack of the Clone‘s plot device of the secret planet Kamino, the origin-world of the cloned Stormtroopers erased from the Jedi archives, but it helps to better illustrate a subtle allusion to the classics of drama and science-fiction in Lucas’ own work by way of extending the cinematic simile. AOTC’s Kamino is a watery planet continually rainswept by constant tempests, while Serenity‘s Miranda is named after the daughter of Prospero, the key role in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, a play that was famously adapted into a minor modern masterpiece in Forbidden Planet. Both planets are forbidden in sorts, and both feature their own brand of “Monsters From the Id”.
Thus is a powerful connection made between the two franchises by careful mining of science-fiction past and present, acting more in concert with the object of widespread fanboy-derision than against it, helping to dig deep where the Prequels merely scratched the surface and marked the spot with an “X”. In a way, Whedon is following a map of cinematic territory left by Lucas, much in the same way that he and contemporaries like Scorsese and Coppola did so with their own Godardian commentary-films. Just as The Conversation could said to be in dialogue with Antonioni’s Blow Up and Taxi Driver was primarily a response to The Searchers, Firefly was never merely a series made in response to Star Wars as a whole, but specifically to the Prequels, and like the Movie Brats’ own rearticulation of foreign and classic Hollywood fables, Whedon at times was able to express the content of his inspiration in a language far clearer and more direct than his forebear. When Coppola retold Antonioni, he managed to jetison the forced Mod stereotyping and dated spirit throughout to hone in on the universal spirit of paranoia; when Scorsese retold Ford, he threw out all of the nonsensical Western humor and focused on the big city’s own brand of savage sexual exploitation; likewise, when Whedon retold Lucas, he steered past the stilted high-speech and juvenile slapstick in order to hit the marks on their shared obsessions of truth, justice and the ways that business and government pervert both. That’s not to say that one was necessarily better than the other in any case, but rather that each brought out the best qualities in each other.
By viewing the Prequels in the prism of Whedon’s take on them, you can better see the involved socio-political commentary that Lucas intended and appreciate it without the distractions of their dramatic foibles, and by looking at Firefly through the lens of the Prequels it’s easier to look past that series’ own various weaknesses, most of which its Browncoat fans prefer to steadfastly ignore rather than confront head on. While the dialogue he and his team crafts can be entertaining (and thankfully reigned in from the run-on jokiness of Buffy), it is oftentimes rather strained in its combination of Chinese slang and overly quaint 19th century frontiersbabble. Indeed, most of the Western-isms of the show can come off as forced and rather boring after a while (though it does let the show live up to Star Trek‘s self-proclaimed label as “Wagon Train in Space” better than Gene Roddenberry’s program ever did), as does some of its libertarian/objectivist leanings throughout (part of being more plainspoken in its politics than Star Wars means you lose out on the inoffensiveness of allegory). And while the visual design, texture and direction of the show is probably the most beautiful stuff that Whedon has ever been involved in, he still clearly has little idea of how to concieve of, stage or shoot action without making it incomprehensible and unremarkable in any number of ways. He came close in some of the space-combat near the end of Serenity, setting a climactic showdown in the a planet’s cloudy upper-atmosphere, allowing the film to dodge the series’ rule against sound-in-space. But Whedon sabotaged the sequence by redesigning the look of the Alliance crafts into something rather generic compared to their inspired design from the series, a small miracle of sci-fi poetry with battle-ships that looked like clusters of skyscrapers.
Yet even if he quieted his visual voice at that moment, it does nothing to silence the moments of beauty peppered throughout the series at its best moments. Full of plenty of wit and wonder in its use of widescreen scope and genre archetypes, Firefly was a show too light on its zero-gravity feet to ever stand much of a chance on network television for very long. Even if it was guaranteed the briefest of tenures on the air, however, the show itself remains as one of the most eloquent pieces of science-fiction on the small-screen, once you got past its occasionally overwritten scripts. I may not hold Whedon’s show up as high personally as my own preferred canon of space-opera, but it is without a doubt a show worthy of the love and devotion its fans have awarded it for for the eight years since its debut and dismissal, and as a series in dialogue with my own favorite sci-fi adventure from the past decade, I can’t help but be swept up in the enthusiasm every now and again. For whatever qualms I have about its faults, I’ll choose to look at Whedon’s finest thirteen hours of television in the way that I first saw Captain Mal watching that Alliance cruiser in the pilot, its reflection curving over his helmet’s glass like a vision of Manhattan in the mirror of an approaching car’s windshield after passing the toll-booth at George Washington or the Brooklyn Bridge. At that moment, in the dead of space, there was all the same fruitful angst you might find in the bluest tranquilities of Michael Mann’s Los Angeles crime sagas, the barest essences of the most soulful film-noir transposed onto a gritty space-western. Bright lights, big city, and bold outlaws– the stuff that dreams are made of.
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Writers/Founders
“….it pretty much sounds like the plot of every single space-opera since the advent of Star Wars (or even before it, as well), but what Whedon does not simply regurgitate the same old dominant strains in science-fiction for the past thirty-odd years. Instead, he does something close to what Lucas managed back in ’77, resurrecting the substance and style of the originals and holding up its elements both to analyze them from an intellectual standpoint, and to provide some good old fashioned fun….”
I have never watched a single episode of this series, but as you know I was a moderate fan of BUFFY, or at least a slew of episodes from it. (yet I haven’t remotely watched enough) I love the premise here, as futuristic science-fiction about time travel has always been my cup of tea. (I love the original STAR TREK, ST:TNG, DEEP SPACE NINE, VOYAGER and ENTERPRISE) and my television infatuation with this subject dates back to my childhood with the goofy and reductive LOST IN SPACE. It’s interesting too that you paint this as a kind of foil to STAR WARS, but the bottom line is that you have found much worth in this show, and have finally embraced Wheadon, even with some minor disclaimers.
This is a towering essay, and a definitive study of this show.
There’s a scene in 1996’s Jude where Chris Eccleston’s stone mason is cajoled into reciting the Lord’s Prayer in a Christchurch public house by a gobby young undergraduate. When he finishes reciting it, he shouts out “you fools! Which one amongst you know if I did it right?” Or in layman’s terms, Sam, you cannot say this piece, irrprestive of its merits, is a definitive study of a show you haven’t seen.
As for the piece, it’s well written but it reminds me that we used to have a game at work whereby we used to call it Manager’s Bingo and we had a host of terms that, upon use in an address, we could tick off. Slogans like “with me on this journey”, or “going forward” or “it’s going to be our toughest year” or “will you join me”. By the end you could get Bingo. With Bob we just need put “Lucas”, “George”, “Sith”, “Jedi”, and a few other words and you could have House within a paragraph or two of an essay. It’s a massive, humongous turn-off. I see the very name Star Wars and immediately hit the BACK button and I know I’m not alone…
Bob, you have the talent, don’t make it a laughing stock by making everything relevant to bleedin’ Star Wars. Perhaps we should invite challenges to Bob. Every Saturday he’s given a film or TV series to look at and we see how he makes Lucas’ films integral to its understanding.
Fish, it isn’t that I’m taking some random film/series and forcing a comparison, but rather at this point I’m focusing on works whose connections to Lucas are well-known, indeed rather self-evident, and trying to go further. It’s bound to happen when you examine a great deal of modern sci-fi, as “Star Wars” was more or less the inspiration-point for at least generation of filmmakers so far. As I’ve just stated before, Whedon is pretty much a poster-boy for this kind of creator– for him, the main inspirations are Lucas, Cameron and Claremont, and if I’m choosing to focus on the first of those three here, it’s because I do genuinely find “Firefly” to largely be a call-and-response work to SW.
Anyway, you’ve beat your own drum by comparing the new “Doctor Who” to “Buffy” a fair deal for one thing, so we’ve all got our percussions to march to.
Yes, it’s not the comparison that’s the problem, it’s that it’s always the SAME comparison, no matter what the film being discussed. It’s like a default setting you can’t overcome. You’re a better writer than that.
Let’s toss a film in, try and wangle George Lucas into an essay on Wendy and Lucy.
Again, Fish, I’ve chosen to primarily cover science-fiction. The only article where I perhaps should’ve reconsidered any mention of SW was in my “Heaven’s Gate” piece (although that was more due to how both are, for different reasons, blamed for the death of New Hollywood than anything in the film itself), but in everything else it’s more or less fair game. “Inception”? “Avatar”? “Lost”? SW is pretty much an essential influence on all, to varying degrees.
“Let’s toss a film in, try and wangle George Lucas into an essay on Wendy and Lucy.”
hmmm.
Wendy is desolate, not unlike Han Solo, when he becomes captured and sent to Jabba-the-Hut. He’s left frozen in carbon, separated from his companion, the dog-like wookie Chewbacca. Chewbacca roams the universe seeking means to become reunited with/free his owner. Reversing roles, this is not unlike Wendy (in the human Han Solo role) trying to save her ‘Wookie’ in carbon, Lucy, who has become enslaved my by the local dog ward. …
and one could go on from there.
I should add that there’s little chance I’d bother with watching “Wendy and Lucy” at this point. I’m sort of sickened by the current trend of American indies to focus on the poverty-striken dregs of society while keeping things rather superficially high-gloss. It was one of the reasons I wasn’t as enamored of “Winter’s Bone” as everybody else (it’s like a film-noir, but with meth-labs!). It all strikes me as a rather odd bourgeois fad, and doesn’t have quite the same kind of genuine quality that so many of the Depression Era films of the 30’s from guys like Walsh and Lang had. But that’s a whole other tea-pot to tempest in.
‘Wendy and Lucy’ is quite authentic, you should give it a try.
It has one of the mopey girls from “Dawson’s Creek”, right? Sorry, fat chance. I’m not just writing it off, I’m submitting it for publication.
Well, to bring the SW comparison back, glad you draw the line on heartthrobs at Dawson Creek and not Hayden Christensen (or whatever his name is). Trust me Michelle Williams is a better actor then anything shown in the entire SW series, especially the loved prequels.
But the larger point is beyond laughable, because an actor was in a second rate teeny show at a younger age that makes the later work skipped? I suppose you didn’t see Watts in MULHOLLAND DR. or Kidman in DOGVILLE because they were both in Aussie soap operas in their youth?
It’s because it’s part of a strategy aiming towards glamming up a movie that’s wallowing in self-congratulatory poverty, having its cake and eating it, too. I don’t really care about those kinds of movies to begin with, but when you start adding pretty-young-things slumming it on the road, my interest level turns to deficit levels. At least “Mulholland” and “Dogville” wear their artifice on their sleeve, which makes it all easier to swallow.
But you see, I’m arguing that WENDY AND LUCY doesn’t do that. And as of now, and it appears the foreseeable future, I remain the only one who has seen the film in this conversation. But hey you hate the film, because others on its topic aren’t worthwhile.
Can I say ‘Star Wars’ sucks because ‘Logan’s Run’ or ‘Silent Running’ does? Is that fair?
And while we are talking about the socio-economics of film, again I’m glad you see Lucas as some visionary… the man that can’t make a film for under 150 plus million, about fantasy topics that don’t help (or seek to help) the plight of the common person.
I’m not saying that I hate the film without-seeing it. Just that I’m familiar enough with a genre’s conventions to make a good assumption for what I’m going to enjoy or not ahead of time, and right now I’m just not in the mood to walk down an alley I’m pretty sure isn’t mine. At any rate, it’s a screwy comparison in the first place. Moving on.
Regarding budgets– does that make a cheaply shot piece of genre entertainment any more worthwhile? Didn’t you just help finish up a countdown that focused primarily on women running away from guys with knives?
OFF topic: but now that I have you here, I’m looking for a doc, I believe you recommended it in your top 100 for the decade… about American media/right wing/terrorism.
can you tell me the title, for some reason no legit searches are bringing up your original post(s) on the subject.
thanks in advance.
It’s “The Power of Nightmares”, and fortunately I think it’s all up on YouTube. Here’s the first part: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vt-FyuuWlWQ
And, I had it at #20, right here: http://www.theaspectratio.net/newmillenniumfilm8.htm
Oh great, thanks.
Netflix has all three discs, I’d rather watch it that way. I think I meant to add it before but my list is at the max and I couldn’t add any until I sent some back and by the time I did that I forgot about it. Will add now.
Has there been an official DVD release of that in R1? Or is it some sort of clandestine release? I’m looking it up on Amazon and seeing multiple rather shady looking packages, like the people who make rips of even more paranoid Alex Jones docs. This is a case where I’ll gladly defer to YouTube.
Then again, if it was available as a streaming title, I’d be whistlin’ Dixie in a different key.
Bob, I’m wondering if you caught my piece on Wendy and Lucy – which contains a couple paragraphs addressing the “genre” you mention here. It might be worth you revisiting, as I had many of the same reservations you do going in (the star-slumming, what looked like an affected drabness, the potential distancing techniques of the filmmaking). While I was ambivalent for the first half, ultimately I found Wendy & Lucy quite good & quite compelling – and also possibly indicative of a way forward for this type of indie.
Btw, I love Jamie’s Jedi-W&L connection parody – brilliant!
Joel, don’t encourage him. I’m taking enough flack from the Whedonite duckspeakers as it is.
I hear you, Bob, and I sympathize but when someone finds a way to link Michelle Williams’ pet pooch to the Wookie, plaudits are in order! Anyway, irritating as the flak might be congrats on generating such an interesting discussion. I know nothing about Firefly and initially was going to bypass this post, but based on the contention alone I’m going to give this a read.
Incidentally, now that you have a “day” will you be posting every Saturday? I love coming to Wonders each day and having a different writer in the spotlight, adds a nice orderly feel to the site (a feel that will be strengthened when my Sunday Matinee wraps up, and Maurizio’s Electronic Music series is humming along on its own).
Yeah, for now I’m going to focus on neglected sci-fi television of the past decade. Next up will be “Dollhouse” (if you thought I was harsh on “Buffy” here, just you wait), and then either something on “Jericho” or the abortive pilot “Virtuality”. I might also try and backwards engineer my “International” action-scene write up at some point, but for the time being I’m going to lay some genre groundwork.
You’ve just reminded me of another reason I don’t care to see “Wendy and Lucy”– I fucking hate dogs. If she were toting a cat around, I might be more inclined.
So you’re a cat person (and dog-loather). Not sure why, but this doesn’t surprise me! 🙂
Oh and far be from me to link to myself twice, but you & Allan’s flying-pig moment was paid tribute to on Dancing Image recently…
Yes, Sam showed me. I tried to comment, but… you know how these things can get screwed up by a moody browser.
Having watched the Special Features of Firefly, I can say that Joss himself has made significant comparisons with Star Wars, and the odd remark that indicated his own dislike of the prequels.
He’s stated that he wanted to make a ‘Han Solo’ TV show, and has critiised the SW prequels – perhaps not so much the plot, from my analysis, but definitely the way it’s shot – in particular the lack of consistency. I.e the battle Special Effects are shot handicam style and the rest is all smooth – Firefly is all Handicam-like (interestingly enough – the SW special features reveal that Lucas let the Special Effects team design this sequence all themselves – hence the lack of consistency).
I wouldn’t be too far off the mark if I said that he was trying to make his version of the prequels.
Diz, excellent points there. Though I find that “Firefly”‘s visuals lean heavily on the gilded-age/space-age-dust-bowl aesthetic of TPM and that the overall political/philosophical objectives of both series are very much in concert, I don’t object at all to the idea that Whedon may have conceived of his own space-opera with an eye to one-up Lucas at his own game. This is partly what I mean when I say that it’s a program in dialogue with “Star Wars”, in the same way that Godard’s films of the 60’s could extol the glories of American cinema while simultaneously despising much of they stand for.
As for the inconsistent sequence that you’re referring to from SW– should I assume you’re talking about the Geonosis battle montage from AOTC, which mixes mock handicam CG footage with smoother takes? If so, I believe Lucas did allow ILM to design their own stuff, but gave them edicts to evoke the look of WWII combat photography in certain moments, hence the occasional hand-held feel. Overall it’s a sequence I feel is very much indebted to Stuart Cooper’s “Overlord”, which has a lot of stock-footage montage showing rather bizarre looking instruments of Allied warfare, including some rolling-wheel weapons that appear to have inspired some of the Separatist battlements in Ep. II. So while the sequence is pretty random, I think it’s pretty much by design.
Of course, you may have meant something else altogether, in which case I’m curious.
Once again, one of Bob’s sci-fi opuses has attracted mega-attention on the net! At a site devoted to Whedon, this masterful essay is mentioned at the very top of the page, and is generating amazing traffic:
http://whedonesque.com/
After reading some of the comments on their board (by the way, why do people read an article but refuse to comment on the blog it’s actually posted on? moving on), I feel it’s necessary to clarify a few things.
(1) Produced and released in late 2002, “Firefly” falls well after 1999’s “The Phantom Menace”. Released in 2005, “Serenity” is three years hence from 2002’s “Attack of the Clones”. While the series responds to TPM largely and the movie responds to AOTC on a few points (Miranda/Kamino), neither have any real relation to ROTS. I thought the relationship there was more or less clear, but there you go.
(2) For the record, I’m 26 years old now (that’s 15 in the year of TPM), so I was well within the target age-range for “Buffy” when it first came out as a series. The reason I didn’t get into it was because I’m not into vampires, and because the overwritten scripts struck me as “the adventures of people who never fucking shut up”.
(3) I’m most flumoxed by the claims that I’ve been largely negative in my appraisal of “Firefly”. Far from it– sure, I don’t think it’s perfect (only THX, “Heaven’s Gate” and “American Psycho” are that), but all in all I found it to be a supremely entertaining and engaging piece of science-fiction. Sure, I still like the Prequels more, but hey, somebody has to (I’m heartened to read that a fair amount of Browncoats do– I’m willing to bet the ones I encountered were just a wee bit college-drunk).
(4) Yes, Orson Scott Card really does dig “Firefly”. But he’s also a homophobe, so don’t think too highly of his opinion.
A bone being picked by a couple of the Whedonesque groupies– my claim that “rival criminal factions and bounty hunters” in “Firefly” are “artifacts lifted from Lucas”. Obvsiously, Lucas did not invent crime-lords or mercenaries, but his intergalactic varieties like Jabba the Hutt and Boba Fett have set the standard for them in sci-fi. Akira Kurosawa didn’t invent samurai or ronin, and John Ford didn’t invent cowboys or Indians, but when you see those figures evoked on-screen, chances are it’s an homage to either of them, instead of, say, Mizoguchi or Hawks.
First off…The Star Wars prequels…really?? Blech! Only Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back are worth re-watching.
Secondly…as Inara stated in “Bushwhacked,” it’s just Serenity, no “the” necessary.
Third…when did Heinlein change his name to Richard?
Geez, EC, your second point is a bit pedantic, no? We are scrutinying articles now?
Considering that Heinlein and I share the same first name, I’ll just chalk that up to a mental hiccup. Whatever.
And yes, the SW prequels, really. If you think that’s scandalous, look what I have to say about “Heaven’s Gate”.
Not sure that any juxtaposition between Lucas and Whedon is deliberate or intentional. Given that Whedon is an acknowledged geek and a long term sci fi fan he does tend to do a lot of witting or unwitting homages to well known sci fi classics. I’ve also noticed that part of his style is to bunk cliches – he takes a well known cliche, sets it up so that the audience thinks they know what is going to happen (because they have also seen the same programmes and films that he has) and then suddenly reverses it. Mal rudely interrupting the classic ‘no one move or the girl gets it’ schtick in the first pilot episode is a perfect example and I would say that Buffy is full of such moments.
As for the star wars prequels… I think the main problem with them was not the plot (which was ok, I liked the ideas in there) but the way in which they were executed. Some of the actors chosen were wrong for those parts, the direction was a little off, the special effects were overused and so on. It greated a jarring effect which meant that you could not appreciate the story as much as it deserved.
On the whole, I find that Whedon takes his cue from three main sources– Lucas, Cameron and Claremont (for penning classic “X-Men” comics, particularly the “Dark Phoenix Saga”). To varying degrees, they all contributed to his consistent themes of over-arching mythologies, strong female characters, mentor/student relationships and rebeliousness against authority. The Lucas-quotient is at its absolute strongest in “Firefly”, and it’s both impossible and irresponsible to look at the series seriously without taking it into consideration– indeed, Whedon goes out of his way to draw the comparison himself many times. It’d be like examining “Breathless” without considering Humphrey Bogart.
As for bunking cliches– there’s some of that present, to be sure, but at the same time Whedon has a tendency to do it so frequently that it becomes somewhat predictable, itself. Most obvious is the “sudden death of a beloved character” motif that has happened so many times since “Buffy” that it had almost lost all meaning by the time it popped up in “Dollhouse”– you weren’t so much on the edge of your seat worrying or fearing that one of your favorite figures might bite it, but instead placing bets on which one would.
As for the PT– visually, I find them damn-near perfect. Dramatically, I don’t fault the actors as much as Lucas’ tendency for high-speech and other antiquated mannerisms, which occasionally work very well in an anthropological context (Anakin and Padme’s awkward, courtly romance is the smartest version of “star cross’d lovers” I’ve seen) but can often put a wee bit too much distance between the material and the audience (this is especially clear in the political content– with all the debate and filibustering, we never really get past the propaganda, which is interesting, but takes more effort to grasp).
I still find them absolutely fascinating and entertaining, but not without acknowledging their faults. In the end, however, I’ll champion “The Phantom Menace” sooner than I would something like, say, “Film Socialisme” (though if Godard had supplied REAL English subtitles, I might reconsider).
I’m sorry but this analysis is simply off base, if Firefly/Serenity is a negative response to an established scifi franchise, its not Star Wars (other than the “Greedo shot first” revision of the original movie being referenced by Mal’s shooting at the Operative in the fight in the Companion house in Serenity) its Star Trek…the Alliance is not a satire of the Republic or the Empire, its a satire of the Federation, the ‘verse of Firefly, with its inequities and levels of human dysfunction, with no bumpy fore-headed aliens, as well as the main ship being a small obsolete freighter populated by criminals, are all directly opposing responses to the cliches of the Star Trek franchise
Frankly, the absense of any alien cultures alone makes the “Trek” comparison a little soft for me (“Trek” was almost entirely about “seeking strange new worlds, and new civilizations”, after all). There’s a bit of the Federation, perhaps, in the mono-government of the Alliance, but it’s articulated less as a utopian/dystopian force than as a series of bureaucratic institutions chaffing against another, with a cosmopolitan center at odds with a wild-west outer-rim. They’re somewhere between the fascistic Evil Empire and the petty, red-tape and pork-loving politicians of the Old Republic– sorry, but I just don’t see the “Trek” in there quite as much. Maybe there’s a little “Maquis” spirit to the Browncoats, but you can just as easily call them “Rebels” (probably where TNG gleaned it, besides history), and in the main body of the series, they’re really more Falcon-style mercenaries than anything else (though Mal does occasionally have more of a Kirk-identity than Han, I’ll say that).
More to the point, however– I can see where you’re talking on the “negative” aspect. “Firefly”‘s SW motifs aren’t really negative, but are more open-ended in nature. I can definitely see the negative aspects of the “Trek” world as being at least mildly authoritarian, and given that, it’s easy to see some of it in the well-intentioned-but-sinister aspects of the Alliance. Still, the call-and-response relationship Whedon has with Lucas here is more interesting to me than the thin stuff with the “Trek” franchise.
Oh, and while we’re chalking up specific SW reference-scenes in the show– how about Mal’s dispatching of the tattoo’ed thug in “The Train Job” by kicking him into Serenity’s engine? A reference both to Darth Maul and the Pod-Race all in one.
I think you’re being way too literal…Star Trek (when I say Star Trek I mean all the series and movies, not just TOS) presents a future where, through technology, humanity has solved most of its fundamental problems, and a benevolent quasi-military organization heroically faces opponents who are thinly veiled aspects of negative (now conquered by the Federation utopia) human behavior, neatly resolving the conflicts, often through negotiation…Firefly presents a future where human behavior and institutions are just as screwed up as they ever were, and where we are alone with our dysfunction…Star Trek idealistically “goes where no one has gone before”, Firefly, with a far more sober and realistic view of human nature, the goal is merely to “keep flying”
BTW Whedon, in multiple interviews, has described Firefly as the “anti-Star Trek”, and beyond the initial conception of Firefly as “stagecoach on the Millennium Falcon”, never cited Star Wars, especially the prequels, as a point of reference
Interesting points on “Trek” (I will say that I’m not solely talking about TOS– I thought the TNG references would’ve pointed that out). And while I can see the “Anti-Trek” quotient a little easier when viewing them both as ongoing sci-fi television series, remember that Whedon also said of the show: “It’s Han Solo’s story, if he still shot Greedo first”.
As for the Prequels– part of the fun of dissecting movies and television is finding connections nobody else talks about. For me, it’s the 800 pound gorilla in the room, so I write about it. For me, “Firefly” is best seen as “Han Solo’s story if the Rebellion had lost”, with the Empire replaced by a more benign, indifferent and corrupt Old Republic.
I love the series, and I have been captivated by it. It has brilliant writing. I would love to see more of it.
“It probably isn’t fair to Joss Whedon’s “Serenity” to say that this unassuming science-fiction adventure is superior in almost every respect to George Lucas’s aggressively more ambitious “Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith.” But who cares about fair when there is fun to be had? Scene for scene, “Serenity” is more engaging and certainly better written and acted than any of Mr. Lucas’s recent screen entertainments. Mr. Whedon isn’t aiming to conquer the pop-culture universe with a branded mythology; he just wants us to hitch a ride to a galaxy far, far away and have a good time. The journey is the message, not him.” – MANOHLA DARGIS, NY Times, September 30, 2005.
Well, that’s two people’s opinion.
Whedon absolutely, positively has his faults- but on his worst day is a far more engaging and insightful writer that Lucas will ever be. Whedon always has something interesting to say. One of the things he needs to do in future is trust his instincts, and put his foot down with his network handlers (assuming he ever does TV again)- his original pilots for both “Firefly” and “Dollhouse” are far superior to the rewrites that Fox “forced” on him.
Both “Buffy” and “Angel” developed wonderful ensembles of actors, but “Firefly” is the exemplar of casting chemistry. Amazing to me how often I have gone back to watch a favorite episode, only to get sucked into the arc of the show and watch it all- again.
Lucas allowed his design and CGI to suck the life out of the prequels, on the other hand. You see career-worst performances from Portman and SL Jackson – shockingly wooden. Ironically, I think they finally found their footing with “Sith”- but still prefer “Serenity” for it’s heart and humanity, both in very short supply in Lucas’ prequels.
Did Manohla Dargis enjoy any of the “Star Wars” movies? At any rate, I don’t really give a damn about her opinion there, or on a lot of movies, frankly, so whatever.
Whedon can write dialogue better than Lucas sometimes, if what you’re looking for is sheer verbiage. In terms of story, characters and most especially pacing and structure, however, he can be sorely lacking at times– pretty much all his shows take forever to “find themselves”, even on a season-by-season basis. As for his dialogue, I’m personally not too impressed by it– he always struck me as a sub-par Kevin Smith forced to work in PG-13 standards, or an Aaron Sorkin without any real-world political interests– and at times I could find it absolutely annoying. Lucas’ wooden high-speech may not be great, but I’ll take it over “Buffy”-speak any day. However, one of the reasons I enjoyed “Firefly” is because the dialogue is far more restrained, and that its flourishes are directed to more meaningful sci-fi world-building outlets.
As for the ensemble– I didn’t focus much on the acting here, but yes, they’re all pretty good, and they do create a very nice functioning family unit. Mal’s a bit too much of a jerk at times, but that seems by design. As for SW– I’ll always prefer any of the Prequels to “Serenity”, which may have a nice script and decent performances, but is full to the brim with really awful choices as far as visual-design and action-choreography, which risk making the key set-pieces of the movie damn near incomprehensible. I also think the master-plot of the PT is executed much finer than that of “Firefly”, but then again Fox killed it before the show had a chance to “find itself”, so I can cut it a wee bit of slack.
Seems you really missed the Buffy boat. “A combination of comic-book camp and 90210-soap” describes maybe 10% of it, and probably the worst 10%. Yes, there’s a distinctive rat-a-tat patois that can be annoying when it doesn’t click, but a good deal of it is impeccably written. Some of of the characters might sound alike, but the characterization is nonetheless nuanced and artful. And it contains some of the most inventive, funny, emotionally wrenching episodes of TV ever aired, and I say that having seen most of the canonical favorites (The Wire, The Sopranos, etc.). If you have Netflix, just go look up Buffy Season 4 and insta-watch “Hush.” There’s a reason there’s a whole community of critics and academics with a Buffy jones.
Hurple, allow me to clarify my stance on “Buffy” a bit. I don’t mean to disrespect the show, really. I can watch and enjoy it occasionally in small doses. There’s a lot of barriers standing in my way, however– I don’t really care for vampire lore in general; SMG doesn’t impress me at all as an actress (nearly any of the other characters, especially Willow, I find more interesting); visually, the show isn’t nearly as ambitious in its design or direction as “Firefly” or “Dollhouse” were; and yeah, that “rat-a-tat patois” is REALLY that grating to me (to my ears it makes nearly all of them sound smug and condescending in their own geek-clique ways– all it does is make me want to root for that season’s Big Bad). So really, trying to convert me is something of a lost cause– it’s something of a miracle that I was able to get into “Firefly” or “Dollhouse”.
Is it the best program about a Vampire Slayer ever made? Perhaps. But again, I don’t quite care for vampire stuff, so whatever. And I must say, I find it odd how frequently fans place it in the canon of television masterpieces– up there with “The Twilight Zone”? With “The Prisoner”? With “Twin Peaks”? Hell, I’m a “Lost”-fan, and even I wouldn’t dream of touting Darlton that much until some more time had passed, at least (or, barring that, a special-edition re-edit that fixes the problems of the series finale– namely the entire thing, almost).
It’s no big deal, really. You can admire a creator’s later works without having to dig their early stuff. I’ve grown to appreciate Altman movies like “Secret Honor”, “Tanner 88” and “Short Cuts” quite a lot, but I still don’t care for “MASH”, “Nashville” or “McCabe and Mrs. Miller”, and furthermore don’t quite feel the need to, either. No reason I have to throw out the White Album just because I think “Revolver” is overrated.
I would totally put the best episodes of Buffy up against the best episodes of anything, ever. And I’ve seen Twin Peaks and The Prisoner and love both. There’s even an episode (“Restless”) that strongly evokes the best moments of Twin Peaks. And there’s one episode, “The Body,” which is among the most emotionally wrenching things I’ve ever seen.
And I’m not a frothing Whedonite (I mean I like most of his stuff but the hardcore fans can be scary) and I could care less about vampire lore. It’s a show about how emotionally complicated growing up can be. And a hundred other things.
I can appreciate that. And as I’ve said before, there are occasional “Buffy” episodes that I can see as standing out. It’s just that that they’re the very extreme exceptions, and not the rule, at least for me. “Twin Peaks” may’ve been uneven in its second-season, but even at its lowest points it was still far more consistent and entertaining, and the highest points more than made up for any weaknesses (Lynch’s reveal of the Red Room, Laura’s killer, and Cooper’s fate? More or less perfect). And in the case of “The Prisoner”, I can only think of one episode, “The Girl Who Was Death”, as being truly bad– the rest are pure masterpieces.
As for the show being about the emotional complications of growing up– I suppose I found that aspect rather impenetrable because I couldn’t take the central relationships of the characters too seriously. The Scooby Gang always struck me as a nerd’s wet-dream of an ideal mix of different high-school cliques banding together, no matter how impossible the odds would be that they’d even get along. Popular Buffy, geeky (but beefed up) Xander, gothy Willow, et all– they’re like the assorted cast of “The Breakfast Club”, plus superpowers and minus friction (save for whenever one of them turns evil for the sake of a plot-twist, or whatever). That many disparate groups never got along that well in my high school, and seeing Whedon’s teenage coalition-of-the-willing at work was harder for me to swallow than all the vampires, werewolves and whatnot combined.
Surprisingly, I agree with much of what this critic has to say regarding Firefly, but it was a bloody chore cutting through the thicket of his dense prose. I thought paragraphs this long went out with Dostoevsky or Thackeray. Please, Mr. Wonders, join the 21st century and don’t get bogged down in 500 word paragraphs. Not only do you risk losing your readers, but it makes you sound pedantic and not a little woolly headed. Surely, it is not your desire to come across as a self-important Victorian snob. Tweed walking cap and blackthorn cane, anyone?
Ha, point taken, sir. I may be a little long-winded, but this is nothing compared to previous posts of mine. To paraphrase one of Whedon’s favorite franchises– “Welcome to Wonders in the Dark, RLF. We hope you survive the experience!”
No, don’t take his point. It’s a stupid point. Your prose isn’t dense or long-winded at all, nor are your paragraphs long, nor should you think about dumbing yourself down to suit people who need information fed to them in discrete bite-size fragments (which are not what paragraphs are) lest their brains shut down and baseless accusations of pretension and pedantry tumble out their mouths.
I was directed here from Whedonesque, but believe me, I do NOT drink the Whedonesque Kool-Aid. I see plenty of flaws in Buffy, Angel, and Firefly, but I love the Hell out of them because they present me with characters that I can become attached to. Plus, I just love crying when they die.
I even liked this article (despite believing the SW prequels…all of them…were utter bullshit. Seriously, Bob, concept is one thing, execution is another. Did you even WATCH the prequels? Piles of rotting self-indulgent hundred dollar bills) UNTIL I started reading your reaction to the comments.
You come off as completely unable to address what your loyal readers are trying to tell you! Almost worse, in addressing the members of Whedonesque, you come off as a arrogant and contemptuous.
Look, I’m an opinionated 26 year old male as well. But in my 26 years, I’ve realized that when I alienate the vast majority of the people I am talking to it’s time to reconsider my tone, and realize that maybe it is me who sounds like the know-it-all who cannot…will not…concede even the smallest point.
[Witty final remark with 20th century pop-culture reference; maybe something to do with you on Fox News or MSNBC]
First of all– I feel pretty much the same way about the prequels that you do about “Buffy”, and vice versa. Yeah, there’s flaws in the execution of the script and performances, but I’m more than willing to look past those to better appreciate and enjoy the stuff that’s done right– the visual design, the cinematography, the choreography of all the myriad action set-pieces, the rich mythology. There’s a wonderfully ornate flavor to the PT that’s not better than or inferior to the nuts-and-bolts directness of the OT, but a great compliment to it.
As for my reaction here– all due respect, but I’m just sticking to my opinions. In some cases I can see that perhaps I didn’t make myself perfectly clear (Miranda isn’t ripping off Kamino– they’re both ripping off Prospero’s Isle and/or Altair IV), and I’m willing to clarify things on those points. But I’m not going to concede to everyone else just because the volume’s louder on that side.
At the end of the day, I’m saying that “Firefly” was a damn good show. I’m also saying, of course, that it would’ve been impossible without “Star Wars” before it, just like that series would’ve been impossible without “Flash Gordon”, “Buck Rogers” or the collected works of Akira Kurosawa. That such a tempest has been stirred in this tea-pot amuses me, to say the least.
And hey, I’ll gladly pundit for MSNBC. Just as long as I don’t get fired for destroying my journalistic objectivity by voting Democrat.
Thanks for the response. This is not just me proving my point ex post facto, but it is awesome to at least get a response to a critical post to someone. (And I realize that everything I’m about to say could/will be interpreted that way.)
The portions of your responses to the other “commenters” that really offended me (and probably plenty of others at Whedonesque..I haven’t yet read the comments on that site to this post) include the “I’m taking enough flack from the Whedonite duckspeakers as it is.” and the somewhat condescending line about Whedon taking his cues from Cameron and the guy who wrote the original Dark Pheonix Saga.
Well, on the latter….DUH! Is there a comics/sci-fi writer in the past X decades who has not been influenced by Dark Phoenix? She was iconic for a reason, and it would be a tremendous thing for any writer to not be aware of the story (and it would probably be detrimental to not be aware of it at all).
Which brings me to “duckspeak.” That is inflammatory speech. There is no way around it. Call ME a duckspeaker, call Sarah Palin a duckspeaker, call John H. Johnington a duckspeaker. When you did so, I became instantly angry. You must be aware it would have that effect.
And you are totally wrong to make that generalization. Do you think that the Whedonesque community agree on the merit of Joss’s work? Do you realize the number of us who hated much of Dollhouse? Buffy season 6? Angel season 4? The beginning of Firefly? Buffy seasons 7, 5, 4,…? Runaways? Buffy Season 8?!
Please, just don’t try to group us like that. I’m a member of that group, but I am a member because I can disagree with them as much as I want and STILL be a member of that group.
Re: Duckspeak– So it’s okay for them to generalize about PT fans, but I can’t return the sentiment? Quid pro quo, Clarice. Here at Wonders we fight fire with fire, even if it burns the house down. I’m sorry if you feel you’re caught in the crossfire, but it’s not like I can unpress the button, so we might as well just enjoy the inflamatory nuclear wasteland we’re making. The missiles are in the air. Hallelujah.
Re: Dollhouse– I realize plenty of Whedon fans hate it. Oddly enough, I happen to think it’s the best thing he’s responsible for, and one of the best pieces of original sci-fi from this decade. Next Saturday should prove interesting.
Re: Dark Phoenix– I’d say that Whedon’s pilgrimage to planet Claremont is far more potent than most other sci-fi/fantasy writers out there. Along with Ellen Ripley, Jean Grey in her Phoenix phase is the dominant influence for Whedon’s various female superheroines with messiah complexes, complete with their very own passion plays and ressurections. In some ways, he’s rearticulating the whole Joan of Arc figure in more modern genre adventure language. Which is interesting, but not as much as what I’ve decided to focus on.
This comment was brought to you by the letter “D”.
First, let me tell you how terribly refreshing it is to spar with someone like this. I’m from a family of people who love a good-natured argument (I hope this is good-natured for you too!). (…is “natured” a word? my spell check thinks not…anyway…)
You are a MASTER of getting away from the original points of an argument without directly addressing them. Seriously, re-read ALL of these posts, and see how you conveniently select the points you think you can win. (Yeah, I might do that too…we’ll see.)
Re: Dollhouse. It happens that the Whedonesque group also fights bitterly over MANY of Joss’s works, and the best example is the Buffy Season 8 comics, in case you haven’t seen the online fights. I personally think it is quite healthy, and fun, even. Oh, and I love Dollhouse as a whole, and think some eps are among the best of the episodes ever to appear under Joss’s works (esp those penned by Jed and Mo, by the way).
Also, what does does PT mean? Sorry I’m new here.
And the nuclear wasteland we are created? Doesn’t need to be that way. Ha! Who am I kidding; not everyone digs a good rhetorical fight.
Re: Jean Grey/Ripley/Princess Leia/Joan of Veronica Mars er whatever…I think you have a point, sort of. Again, though, OF COURSE Joss was influenced by these women. I have always been attracted (in a story kind of way) to women who hold their own or demonstrate power. Shoot, even the Little Mermaid was a hero of mine as a kid (though, looking back, she kind of abandoned her species for a boy…). How could he not be? I still don’t think that his females have to be derivative.
Wow…I don’t even remember where this argument started! Did I mention that this is tons of fun for me? And that I also still take offense at your grouping of the people at Whedonesque as having an overriding group-think? Yeah…that was my point! Yeah.
PT = Prequel Trilogy. Either that or I got inadvertently offended for being a devoted enthusiast of P.T. Barnum. Which I’m not.
Re: Addressing points without addressing them– It’s called “rhetoric”, my young Padawan.
Re: Jed and Mo– Interesting that the best episodes on Joss’ shows tend to be the ones he had the least to do with personally. Something I think of whenever people bring up “Empire” and start singing the praises of the shmuck who directed “RoboCop 2”.
Re: Derivativeness– This seems to be a major point of misunderstanding amongst the people who’ve gotten angry over the article. Yes, Whedon’s work is derivative of many things, not the least which is “Star Wars”. Just like Lucas’ work is derivative, or Tarantino’s, or Godard’s, or even Fritz Lang‘s. Like any artists who employ homage and pastiche, they owe heavy debts to those who came before, and where it becomes interesting is when you start seeing the connections between themselves. Now, just because Whedon isn’t alone in his use of pastiche doesn’t mean that I’m going to ignore it, but that doesn’t mean that I’m accusing him of being a hack, either. So yes, his work is derivative, but don’t assume that’s a bad thing.
Re: Sparring– Fun, yes. Feel free to stick around Wonders and join the non-genre cinematic debate at your leisure. At the same time, I’m not about to retract my newspeak accusations (though I am tempted to try and actually translate them INTO newspeak). When I’m hit with a palpable hit, I’ll aim for the jugular in turn, but I’ll at least have the courtesy not to poison the unbated end of my bare bodkin. If the rules of the game are eye for an eye, so be it– but I can play Zatoichi just as well as anyone else with a penman’s sword.
Anyway, I have noted several commentators over there who are going against the grain, either by supporting the article or even outing themselves as fans of the PT, so if you want proof for your point, that’s where the best evidence would be. Do all Whedonites think alike? Nope. But enough of them do in a rather condescending way that I’m not about to lose any sleep over collateral damage. The only thing that’s certain from our mutually-assured scorched earth fanboy policies? Now we are all sons of bitches.
Thanks for the info on “PT.” And thanks for the condescension on your little joke that accompanied it. (Really, a little condescending goes a long way in winning fans %%%sarcasm%%%…I always thought there should be a universal online symbol of sarcasm.)
And then there is this: “It is called rhetoirc, my young Padawan.” (That is YOU saying that) But, before you made that remark….I happened to say…Wait for it…”And the nuclear wasteland we are created? Doesn’t need to be that way. Ha! Who am I kidding; not everyone digs a good rhetorical fight.
Re Jed and Mo: “The Body. Once More With Feeling. Prophecy Girl. A Whole in the World.”
I am very VERY tired. I do not smack people that are into particular fandoms down professionally. I never, ever, would have wanted to until now. Your INCREDIBLE arrogance (have you read Robert Kirkman’s Invincible? Imagine your arrogance is equal to Omni-Man’s power) has exhausted me. Congrats. You have a super power. Delusion, arrogance, and a supreme ability to annoy.
I wish I could meet you in real life. I want to see the being with such overwhelming audacity, confidence, and arrogance to no concede a single element of an argument about comics.
This is getting a little tedious, a bit like politicians whining about how they’re going to go through a controversial bill line-by-line to take out pork, only to add ten times of their own into it, instead. The Barnum bit was just a one-off joke, nothing more. Your highlighted sarcasm over my line about rhetoric is interesting, especially in how it obscures how that very comment of mine was more or less dripping in it (the “Padawan” bit didn’t make it clear? Perhaps I should’ve tried to add an “eye-rolling” smiley– that’s your universal online symbol for sarcasm).
Re: Re: Jed and Mo– Playing the “Random Sudden Death” card, turning everything into a musical, etc. Struck me as gimmicky and annoying, don’t impress me at all. Obviously, if I were going to be a fan of “Buffy”, I’d be a fan of “Glee”.
As for all the “arrogance”– just because we’re having an argument doesn’t mean one side or the other has to “concede”. Is it arrogant to merely keep to your point when others disagree? You think the Prequels suck– fine. I think that “Buffy” sucks– that should be fine, too. There’s such a thing as agreeing to disagree.
Excellent, Bob. It’s brilliant to see someone take a subject and treat it seriously and with proper intellectual rigour.
This is a piece full of points and points of comparison that make me want to see the series. The images are impressive too.
A wider point: I don’t have a problem with using STAR WARS as a hub for the discussion of modern Science Fiction / Fantasy television but I think it’s misguided for critics in general to consider everything to have been ‘influenced’ or ‘ripped off’ from something else. That goes for any art. It seems slightly illogical to consider that because something is a little like something else (Prospero’s Island) that it was influenced by it. Can’t Lucas have just come up with a planet off his own bat, with whatever cultural baggage he carries with him far off in the fog of his memory?
Have you written about THX, Bob? I would love to read what you think on it as I am something of a blank slate on it – I like it but wasn’t moved to think or feel deeply in any direction.
Long may these pieces continue and long may those paragraphs be.
Stephen, the whole “Prospero’s Island” bit with Kamino and Miranda is just an interesting observation of mine, more than anything else. I’m frankly surprised so many Whedonites have interpretted me to be saying that “Serenity” was ripping off AOTC with that plot-point. The two planets are rather different, of course, but share enough in common (hidden from the public, dystopian government cover-ups, Shakespearean aspects) that I think it’s cool to point them out, and show the creative colloquy at work. Frankly, I think they’re just being too sensitive about it.
I remember visiting an exhibit at the Smithsonian down in Washington when I was 13 or so, dedicated to showing off all the props and costumes from the “Star Wars” movies while comparing them to artifacts from history (it was around the time of the Special Editions, I think). Part of the exhibit was a short video-clip on a projector, which showed the genesis of the movie by showing some of the films that inspired Lucas, including the old “Flash Gordon” and “Buck Rogers” serials. One of them (I can’t remember which) even had a summary crawl at the start receding into the distance, just like the SW films. When that played, a couple of people sounded dissappointed and left, rather let down that Lucas had “stolen” something from those previous serials.
My reaction was the exact opposite. Sure, it would’ve been cool if the “crawl” was his idea alone, but I found it absolutely fascinating to see where it began, and furthermore to see how he was using that old artifact to tell his story. Right away I thought of the “News on the March” sequence from “Citizen Kane”, and saw them as more or less the same sort of thing. I suppose I’m looking at SW and “Firefly” more from an intellectual than emotional stand-point, which the latter’s fans certainly aren’t following suit on (understandably).
I’ll get to THX eventually. I’m curious, what are your thoughts on “Firefly” itself, Stephen? When all’s said and done, my main point in this article is that I LIKED the damn show, for crying out loud. Can’t one of the reasons be that it’s influenced by a Prequel or two?
“Stephen, the whole “Prospero’s Island” bit with Kamino and Miranda is just an interesting observation of mine, more than anything else.”
Fair enough. It was just a lightning rod for a wider bug-bear of mine.
“I remember visiting an exhibit at the Smithsonian down in Washington when I was 13 or so, dedicated to showing off all the props and costumes from the “Star Wars” movies while comparing them to artifacts from history”
That sounds fantastic. Imagine aliens wiping us out and discovering Star Wars and other filmic artifacts and videos and taking them to be evidence of myriad life-forms across the universe.
I do like the idea of something originating in what I am seeing but it is a rare thing indeed.
I’m glad you will get to THX. I haven’t seen a second of ‘Firefly’. I saw the first half of Serenity and was disappointed. It felt like STAR WARS lite – or STAR WARS infiltrated by the clinicalness of STAR TREK.
While I like it in parts, “Serenity” strikes me as the weak end of “Firefly”. No wonder, really– they tried to cram an entire season’s worth of intrigue into two hours in an effort to both revitalize the franchise and wrap it up, should it not continue (which it didn’t). Check out the series at your soonest convenience (it was all on Netflix streaming for me, so that made things easier). Maybe you’ll dig it, maybe not.
Amidst all the “Trek” comments, an interesting question emerges– could “Firefly” be called “Star Wars VS. Star Trek”? I still find a whole plethora of Prequel-isms in the series that fans scramble to ignore (Persephone, especially, is a mix of TPM’s glitzy Coruscant and Watto’s “Sanford and Son” Tatooine) but it can also work as an indictment of the Roddenbery utopianisms. I just find that a better case is made against the Federation in the TNG era’s Maquis fighters, frankly. To a certain extent, DS9 and “Voyager” were already the “anti-Treks”.
This is where you lost me:
“…another artifact lifted from Lucas”
You say that Whedon “lifted” (a nice way of saying “stole”) the “bounty hunter” concept from George Lucas. As if the concept of a bounty hunter didn’t exist before Star Wars.
This whole “review”, quite frankly, seems as if you are using Firefly/Serenity as a defensive equivocation for the prequels. Like saying, “Granted, Firefly and Serenity are pretty good, but Whedon stole everything from the superior Star Wars prequels.”
It would have been nice if you had just reviewed the subject on it’s merits instead of through the narrative prism of Star Wars.
Again, read what I said above on the bounty-hunter thing. Kurosawa didn’t invent samurai and John Ford didn’t invent cowboys, but creators all still pickpocketing from them, before others. Same thing with the “derivativeness” issue.
While I am, most definitely, a Whedon fan…it is as much for his flaws as it is for his brilliance. I enjoyed this article, if only for the chance to see how someone else views my favorite Whedon ‘Verse. I will reserve my judgement in regards to the comparison/contrast with SW because I am one of those Luddites who despises all things SW…both OT and PT. But you made some interesting points. Things I never would have seen…mostly because I never looked that deep at SW due to my dislike.
I agree with your remarks about Buffy, to an extent. SMG is my least favorite actor in any Whedon show, followed very closely by David Boreanaz (funny how the main characters of his “flagship” shows are the one thing I really hate), but the rest of the casts are really quite brilliant. I never really viewed the Scoobies as an odd mix, but maybe that’s because I was one of those few people in school who straddled the lines between the cliques. But, I will never fault anyone for disliking Buffy and/or Angel…I admit that they are not for everyone.
I will also add my two cents on the adopting/lifting/borrowing of concepts. I am hard-pressed to find any truly original concepts in film and/or TV these days. Pretty much everything has been done and every “new” idea is merely a rehash of past “new” ideas with new terminolgy. Some people do it amazingly well, a la BSG-style reimaginings, or really, REALLY badly, a la Heroes. (Sorry if you’re a fan, but I think that show was retarded.) But everyone has been there-done that in the cinema world. And those who refuse to acknowledge that need to open their eyes.
In any event, brilliant piece! And screw the whedonites who can’t see past the shiny light of Joss. I am one of them, but I can also see past the end of my own nose. And your debate buddy was right, we’re not all mindless lemmings following the will of Whedon.
Well obviously, not all Whedon fans are alike, or else my piece wouldn’t have been cited on that site, would it? I’m definitely glad you appreciated the piece, Vicious, despite your stance on SW. Since Lucas’ work was more or less my way into appreciating Whedon, perhaps the same might be true here (not bloody likely, but still).
My shared dislike for the main stars of “Buffy” is a big reason I dislike it. Also, I’m just not a big fan of the humor-drama-action-adventure combination in general, even before you add all the vampire crap to the mix. It’s really almost a perfect storm of things I don’t like, so getting into it is more or less an impossibility for me. I will admit that I like the character of Willow– give her a spin-off, and I might’ve checked that out.
Re: homage– I’m just so used to great directors doing it all the time in cinema (Lang, Godard, Kurosawa) that frankly, when I say that Whedon is standing on the shoulders of Lucas, I intend it as a compliment, which is something a lot of the Whedonesque people don’t quite get, in their insular bubble (not all of them, obviously, but still). Trying to ignore Lucas in something like “Firefly” speaks of a rather willful ignorance to me (Whedon goes out of his way to draw the comparison time and again in the series and movie– it’s like Leone constantly referencing Ford, or Tarantino constantly referencing… well… everybody). Still, it’s a different critical vernacular.
Hell, Shakespeare stole all the time. Chaucer stole the idea for “Canterbury Tales” from “The Decameron”, and Boccaccio stole the stories in there from common stories people knew. And do we even want to know how much guys like Woody Guthrie or Bob Dylan borrowed from other folk singer-songwriters, as is the practice in folk to begin with?
I enjoyed “Heroes”, but never took it too seriously. The first season was great fun, the second had the wind stolen from them by the writer’s strike. The third died mostly because the writers listened to the fanboy criticism, and the fourth was too-little too-late. Still, fun as it was, it was fluff.
Anyway, thanks again for the kind and well thought comment. Hope to see you more here in the future.
Thanks, Bob…and you probably will see me around a bit. I wander indiscriminately.
After posting my comment here, I went and checked out the Whedonesque thread…wow, you stirred up a hornet’s nest. I am not a member, nor do I post there, but I do keep tabs because they are a very solid source of Whedon-based info…and yes, they seem to be missing the point. But, as I have come to notice, most rabid fans (of ANY fandom) tend to have a slight (or GLARING) case of tunnel vision. They see only those points they want to, and ignore the more subtle leanings in any form. Which is why most of them seem to have missed the point that you LIKED Firefly. I tend to see it in a similiar context to the rabid sci-fi buffs who tell me I’m not a “real” sci-fi fan myself because I dislike Star Wars and Star Trek. *insert eye roll here*
It’s all subjective…and I know enough about SW to appreciate the points you made. And while I am not a SW fan, in the overall view of the sci-fi fanworld…I think standing on the shoulders of Lucas is a pretty big compliment. THe man gave us one of the most endearing visions in science-fiction, whether you’re a fan or not. You don’t have to be a fan to give credit where credit is due. (Though, I will send a snub in your direction for the inference that Whedon is influenced by James Cameron. Aliens notwithstanding, that man is an boil on the face of the industry. But that could just be my extreme hatred of Avatar speaking. *grins*)
P.S. I get your point on Heroes…I think it had the vision to be brilliant but no idea how to execute the idea.
Re: Whedon– I guess liking “Firefly” just isn’t enough for some people. It reminds me of the Tarantino fans who wanted to deny the possibility that “City on Fire” had influenced “Reservoir Dogs”, and other assorted cinematic references (these are the folk who never got the Godard reference of his production company’s name).
Re: Lucas– I love “Star Wars”, but even without that, he made a great contribution to sci-fi with “THX 1138”.
Re: Cameron– I enjoyed “Avatar”, but found the near orgasmic reaction critics had to it at least a little amusing (you’d think these people had never seen a movie with special effects before). The “Terminator” movies he did are fun, but not quite enough to forget how much they are legitimately ripped-off from Harlan Ellison (there’s a difference between homage and plagiarism). “Aliens” is certainly great, but all in all I enjoy “The Abyss” as his best film.
I’m amused by anyone that sees anything intellectual in Star Wars.
Natalie Portman did go to Harvard.
I’m as big a Prequel fan as they come, and that actually doesn’t impress me in the slightest.
I thoroughly enjoyed this article even if we don’t see eye-to-eye on the SW Prequels (what a surprise!). I do think visually they are interesting but wooden dialogue and lack of characterization really makes me miss Lawrence Kasdan’s influence. I also think that one can’t underestimate the influence of producer Gary Kurtz who, I would argue, reined in Lucas’ worst habits on the first two SW films. After he left the fold, the quality in the films, starting with JEDI diminished and this really was apparent in the Prequels where Lucas was allowed to cut loose without any kind of quality control which I think is what made the original films better. Lucas’ vision was filtered through other screenwriters and directors. Not so in the prequels and this is what makes them weaker, IMO.
That being said, I do think that FIREFLY/SERENITY is a stronger, more cohesive work than the prequels. The plotting and structure is better, not encumbered by a dense backstory and historical details that threaten to overwhelm the prequel films. There is almost too much plot going on in the prequels that almost crush the narrative. There isn’t that problem in FIREFLY which provides plenty of backstory and hints at a rich backstory/history but without tons of expositional dialogue. I think that SERENITY is even more brilliant in that it manages to introduce newbies into the fold while simultaneously offering all kinds of character details, plot twists, etc. to satisfy hardcore fans. That’s not an easy think to do and Whedon pulls it off quite seamlessly. In the film, he also does a fantastic job of getting you emotionally invested in the characters right from the get-go and this is helped by the talented cast who, already familiar with the characters from doing the show, slip right into the roles as if they never left ’em. I actually know of several people who got into FIREFLY as a result of watching SERENITY first.
Anyways, enough rambling. I quite enjoyed your piece and look forward to what you have to say about DOLLHOUSE, a show I just couldn’t get into at all but maybe what you will have to say will change my mind.
JD, I agree that a screenwriting collaborator would’ve been ideal for the Prequels– what’s interesting is how Lucas actively sought such collaboration on TPM from Kasdan, Darabont, Hyuks & Katz and even playwright David Hare, who Lucas wanted to CO-DIRECT the film with (Hare would’ve done the performances, Lucas the visuals & action). Ironically, all of them thought his TPM script was fine without their help– obviously he knew a litle better.
Anyway I think the dialogue and acting, wooden as they are at times, are more than made up for by the cinematography, the action, the imagination– in short, everything else. And I like how unfiltered those things are in ROTJ and the Prequels, as opposed to how they occasionally get bogged down a bit in ESB (the Han & Leia stuff is bit of a distraction from the real meat of Luke’s quest). Considering how Kurtz nearly bankrupted Lucas during production, I can’t really fault him for finding another producer.
As for “Firefly”– a main point of mine was that Whedon’s telling largely the same kind of story that Lucas was in the socio-political conflict of the intergalactic haves-and-have-nots. Whedon mostly put the substance of that story in the foreground of episodic action, while Lucas mainly let it simmer in the background, and that’s fine with me. An episode like “Shindig” really shows off the Prequel-isms of the show, letting everything bubble to the surface. That immediacy is what helps the program significantly, though I for one could’ve sat through several hours of filibustering in the Galactic Senate.
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