Opalescence

TV Shows That I Love – Firefly November 30, 2010

Before watching Firefly, I didn’t have a terribly high opinion of Joss Whedon.

I’ll just let that sink in for a moment for the fans.

At that point, I’d heard of Joss Whedon. I knew he’d created Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, and was well-loved by fanboys and fangirls the world over. But at the time, the only actual experience I’d had with his material were a number of episodes from season 5 of Buffy, which I’m sure many will agree, was not the strongest season of television material he’d ever produced. So, my impressions of him at that point were not bad, but I wasn’t expecting to be particularly impressed.

Now behold the punchline: after one episode of Firefly, I did a 180 and thought the world of him.

It was late 2005. Thanksgiving, as a matter of fact. Serenity had been recently released in movie theaters, and some of my friends convinced me to go and see it at a local movie theater. To get me ready, they showed me the pilot episode of Firefly, also called “Serenity.”

It was all interesting enough, until the moment I watched a preacher suddenly throw down on a law enforcement agent and face down another man who wanted to kill that agent—all without a gun, or any weapons at all. Suddenly I was hooked, drawn into the drama of a group of thieves caught up with a young, well-to-do brother smuggling his sister out of the hands of a repressive government. In addition, they had to keep themselves working, through means of varying legality, so they could keep the ship running and themselves fed.

Firefly proved to be a wealth of interesting interpersonal dynamics. The captain of Serenity, Malcolm “Mal” Reynolds, was the laconic, bitter survivor of a war that cost him most of his friends and the totality of his faith in a higher power. He had strong relationships with his crew: Kaylee, the lovable, brilliant young engineer of the ship; Zoe, his stoic second-in-command and the only other survivor of the war from his platoon; Wash, her goofy husband and a pilot of unmatched skill; Jayne, a gruff, crude mercenary whose knowledge of guns is equaled only by his lust for the almighty dollar; and Inara, the ship’s companion, whose occupation disgusts Mal, even as he suppresses deep feeling for her. Throw in Simon, a young, brilliant physician; his sister River, whose brain is prized by the government, even as it causes her mental problems; and Book, a preacher who happens to be on the right ship at the right time, and it’s easy to see the potential for character-driven brilliance.

All of these relationships are nuanced and complex, particularly when you consider that this show only lasted the better portion of one year. After seeing some of the dialog exchanges, such as Jayne and Wash sparring over who shares the risks during missions, and Book and Kaylee’s brief discussion of ships and journeys, my opinion of Joss Whedon’s writing rose considerably. After seeing the rest of the episode, where I saw a deal gone wrong, then righted; a harrowing, narrow escape from a predator ship; and the heartwarming results of a brother’s determination to protect his sister, I knew I’d have to see the rest of the shows he worked on.

My friends then showed me the episode “Out of Gas,” which explains in flashbacks how the original crew of the ship met, even as Mal lies dying and bleeding in the present. It’s alternately amusing, harrowing, and endearing, this episode, and it’s punctuated with a silent, unforgettable flashback shot of Mal looking longingly on as he lays eyes for the first time on Serenity.

After that, we went to see Serenity in the theater. Serenity, which had me on the edge of my seat for almost the entire time. Serenity, where two major characters are killed. Serenity, which was made as a consolation prize for the fans whose show Firefly had already been canceled. By that point, I was already one of those fans.

When the end credits were rolling, I turned to one of my friends and said, “I almost wish you hadn’t shown me this.” When she asked why, I responded, “It really drives home the fact that it’s not enough for something to be good in order for it to be successful.”

The crew of Serenity have since gone on to life in the comic books, much like Buffy and Angel have. But there’s a definite longing for what could have been, had FOX actually taken care of the show from the get-go and given its creator the kind of support and freedom he needed. The comics, which I read and have read as opportunity allows, maintain a very narrow span of the characters’ lives, set between the end of the series and the beginning of the film. Not exactly the same tradition of the continuations of Buffy and Angel, which were longer-lived and had more or less proper television endings.

The biggest draw to this show for me was the characterization, hands down. Be it the exploration of individual characters or the interplay of an ensemble, Firefly really did a good job of making you care for them. Mal really is a smuggler captain with a heart of gold who can give Han Solo a run for his money. His relationship with Inara, a remarkable character in her own right, is both obvious and understated in its complexity. Book and Jayne, who at first come into near deadly conflict over the immediate fate of a man’s life, eventually become friends and workout buddies, even though they’re remarkably different people. And that’s only scratching the surface.

Another draw is the humor, which often occurs at the most unlikely moments. Mal, having bested a man in a duel, elects not to kill him, but to give him little jabbing stabs with his sword, making slightly more self-deprecating remarks as he does. Jayne ambushes Mal with an impressive-looking gun and a massive scowl, only to offer the gun in trade for a woman. When Mal scolds him with the rebuke that the woman has a name, Jayne holds the gun lovingly and says, “So does this! I call her… Vera.”

And don’t even get me started on the Ballad of Jayne!

Firefly wasn’t my first exposure to Joss Whedon, who has since gone on to become one of my idols of writing, but it was the show that made me take notice of his writing after rolling my eyes at the mention of his name for a while. Because of Firefly, I gave Buffy and Angel a chance (more on them at another time). Because of Firefly, I realized that good things don’t necessarily get to be long-lived. And because of Firefly, I’m always wondering how I can write compelling and engaging characters who my readers and audience will care for as much as I do.

Thanx, Joss.