Reviews

Considering that TV is the predominant form of entertainment on the planet, it's remarkable how little it offers in terms of original works of fiction, especially since the onset of reality TV (hopefully but unlikely to be a short term aberration).

But every so often, an ensemble of talented people unite to create a thing of wonder, of art. I'd like to tell you about Joss Whedon's Firefly.

I was lent the first (and only) season on DVD by a former colleague who said little but seemed a little awed by it. But most televised science fiction (like most TV) is incredibly bad, so despite this apparent awe, my own expectations were muted.

When I first started to watch it, I was immediately struck by how wrong the feel was. The theme music had a strong country twang and a herd of cows ran towards the camera at the end of the intro. I hate westerns with their impassive heroes and monochromatic notions of good and evil with a passion so this was really not good.

Seconds in, the opening scenes were crudely filmed shots of people running through a battlefield with CGI planes shooting by just metres above the ground. I could not help a wry grin and I was already beginning to think of excuses for why I would return the DVDs so soon.

Minutes in though, I was struck by how with a few deft dabs of dialogue, some interesting and genuinely new characters were beginning to be painted with confident impressionistic strokes. There were no clean cut uniforms, no energy weapons, no teleportation, no long shots of spaceships turning against a starry backdrop to classical music, no obsession with technology, no robots, no artificial intelligences, not even a clear long-term goal for the protagonists apart from the plot conflict between the Alliance and the Rim, and the bitterness of committed Browncoats. It was all close-up and raw. These characters were flawed real people.

I got a sense of this from Mal's reaction to seeing River in the cryogenic box; despite having shown a quick tongue on several occasions, after a long considered look he simply utters a deeply felt and eloquent "huh". Moments later, we have the explanation in Simon's response "this is my sister". These two things, a fresh natural approach to dialogue and the first stirrings of plot hooked me. It felt like a quality drama was emerging rather than a space opera. I hadn't felt like this since watching the second episode of Blake's Seven for the first time almost thirty years earlier.

Firefly became more fascinating with each episode. The details that were revealed about each character were not arbitrary or transitory; they were deep lasting insights into characters that explained everything that went before and illuminated everything after. The series had a constructed but naturalistic design - an architecture if you will. Characters were not simply a narrowly defined purpose (mechanic, pilot, doctor, mercenary) and a stereotype; they were people who surprised themselves and us by becoming an integral part of Serenity's crew.

One thing that I look for and enjoy in a work of fiction is when there is a tension both within a character and between them. The original Star Trek was engaging because of its three-way bond and tension between Kirk, Spock and McCoy (an ego, superego and id if you will), which saved it from being character-less. I also like it when a character does or says something to surprise you, but with hindsight you see how it fits perfectly.

These characters are anything but wooden, or rote, or narrow. They are not predictable. There is not one of these characters who doesn't have qualities that we can admire and aspects that we can't but that we can still forgive.

I challenge anyone to dislike this series after considering it on its own merits rather than comparing it to anything else. The only comparisons I can make are positive ones because for me, although the cowboy feel gets and stays old, and you get the feeling that you could subtract all the science without changing the story (which I once would have held as a fatal flaw in any work claiming to be science fiction), the characters and their stories are real, and that's worth enduring a few cows and six-guns.

I said this was an ensemble work. The scripts were drum-tight, brimming with energy. The cinematography was fresh. The set designers and CGI team did an outstanding job. But finally, I want to take my hat off to the composer who added such a subconscious depth to the emotion of every scene. If you listen out for it, the music is the invisible heart-line of the story.

Joss Whedon, my again mostly silent TV awaits your next work with impatience; I wish you the same kind of luck again in assembling a team and much better luck in finding committed financial backing.

To see the original Star Wars as a child was to step into a science fantasy world of white knights, black baddies, strange creatures, androids & robots, heroes, princesses who are also heroes, cool spaceships, lots of fire-fights, and not least, a kind of magic. However Revenge of the Sith might more accurately be named Return of the Sh-it.

The film is literally the ultimate disappointment because despite the resources of a superb design and effects team, and some acceptable acting from the leads, Lucas himself has not matured as a director/scriptwriter; if anything, he's regressed, by failing to give us any believable dialogue and motivations, or characters whose personalities are anything other than one-dimensional.

The key example of this is the character of Anakin/Vader himself, who while apparently propelled into evil by first a failure to be recognised as a Jedi Master and then critically by the choice to sacrifice all other considerations to save Padmé, is quite prepared to kill her instantly when he believes she has betrayed him, without a moment's thought or pain.

The film makes minimal use of metaphor; the projection of the battle between Yoda and Palpatine/Sidious into the senate chamber was one weak example, but appeared to be done more for the opportunity to toss large black things around than anything else). And the synchrony of the births of Luke & Leia with the final dark apotheosis of Anakin to Vader-hood was rather too inevitable to be considered a conscious creative act on Lucas' part. Sub-plots? Nope, they might confuse the 6 year olds.

There is a token effort at depth when Kenobi says "only the Sith deal in absolutes" during the battle with Anakin, but this was a missed opportunity to reflect that even the Jedi are capable of mistakes. And for that very battle, what possessed Lucas to name the volcanic hell planet "Mustafa", which is a popular name among those of Islaamic faith? The other flaws of the film were established already in Phantom Menace; Padme/Portman was not as gritty or complex as Leia/Fischer, and most significantly, there was no one who portrayed emotions other than anger, love or serious thoughtfulness - in short, there was no replacement for Han Solo.

Although the spaceship scenes have become richer, there were no fresh ideas to liven up the lightsabre scenes, just a little jumping around.

Thankfully the series is now over and fans of the original series who wanted to see more of the best parts of "Star Wars" and "Empire Strikes Back" now know that this is not to be, and there is some closure in that.

Further, Joss Whedon knows enough to bring a little of the emotive dimension of soap opera into his (doubtless just beginning) space opera "Serenity"/"FireFly". But there is still room for a director who can create enough splash and popcorn heroism to appeal to kids while providing older scifi fans with a reason or two to watch scifi movies.