Note: There’s still time to enter my blogversary giveaway,
so hop on over there for a chance to win a copy of Ray Bradbury’s FAHRENHEIT
451 (you know, if you want).
Warning: As always, I try to stay relatively spoiler free.
But it doesn’t hurt to proceed with caution.
At first, when I came across FIREFLY, I
was like, “Star Trek meets Wild West? O...okay. What could possibly go wrong?”
I came into it wanting to enjoy it, but maybe not actually expecting to. And
immediately the narrative swept me off my feet into the great void of space, or
something dramatic like that. As evinced by my minor obsession with DOCTOR
HORRIBLE’S SING-ALONG BLOG and THE AVENGERS, I think it’s pretty clear Joss
Whedon and I were supposed to be twins or something. Obviously.
If you’ve seen DOCTOR HORRIBLE’S SING-ALONG BLOG, you might have noticed that Joss Whedon seems to have a
penchant for portraying morally ambiguous characters. It’s hard to tell who’s
the villain and who’s the hero, and that’s great because life is like that.
Sometimes we’d like it to be easy—we’d prefer to label people as either all good
or all bad and have it neat and contained like that. We’re orderly beings by
nature, and we crave an orderly world complete with an orderly system of
guidelines.
FIREFLY is definitely one of those grey
areas.
So let’s talk about the characters.
Captain
Malcolm Reynolds. As the captain of Serenity, Mal is in
a position of authority. Not only is he responsible for his own behavior, he is
also responsible for the lives of his crew, and it’s up to him to make sure he
leads them well. Unfortunately, he has some personal issues he needs to work
through—namely his history with the war and the Alliance. Because of this, he
makes impulsive decisions, acts out of bitterness, and relies on himself and
his wits far too often. While he may laugh and joke around like everyone else,
deep down where it matters, he is an angry man.
Although we’re meant to root for him,
since he’s the main character and all, we should also stop to consider that he
is a smuggler and a thief. If it’s even slightly lucrative, he doesn’t hesitate
to pick people’s pockets, fence stolen goods, and lie and kill when it’s
necessary. Often it is. Of course, he has his own ideas of morality too. He
won’t murder people in cold blood, and he’s not afraid to back out of a deal if
it means protecting innocent lives. So, despite his interesting take on the
law, he does have his own code, and he tends to stick to it. I’ll give him brownie
points for that.
Jayne.
I’m never sure whether I want to hug Jayne or hit him. True, he’s part of
Serenity’s crew, and he’s loyal to a point. But the driving force that brought
him to the ship in the first place—money—is what could buy him away again in a
heartbeat, should he find the price tag high enough. While he experiences
something resembling guilt at some of his missteps, it remains unclear whether
his repentance is genuine or merely an act to convince Mal he won’t cave to
greed again. It’s really a toss-up.
Zoe,
Wash, and Kaylee. These are all genuinely nice people,
and under normal circumstances, Zoe would probably be my hero. Whedon does such
a great job of making them relatable, likeable, and believable, that it’s easy
to forget they’re technically the bad guys. Considering their lives from the
perspectives of those they’ve robbed, it might be a little more difficult to
smile and laugh at their “life of crime” jokes. After all, villains come in many
shapes and sizes, and sometimes they just look like your next-door neighbor or
the class clown. (I mean, you have to watch out for the funny ones.)
Inara.
Okay, I have some issues with Inara, and she’s the main reason why I’m slow to
recommend this show to most people. As a Christian, I believe very strongly
that sex belongs within the confines of marriage, and while it’s not my place
to sit around and judge others who believe differently, I also don’t have to
condone behavior I recognize as physically and emotionally harmful. That said,
I do appreciate the moral questions that Inara’s character raises.
But perhaps I should tell you what she
does for a living. In this futuristic society, registered whores like Inara are
known as companions, and they are considered respectable, higher level members
of society. Which begs the question of how that came to be. At what point,
along the way, did someone decide this was not only okay, but something to be
accepted and encouraged? And, before you answer that question, please take into
account the despotic nature of the Alliance which allows and praises such
conduct. Just something to think about.
Yes, I don’t deny that Inara has nice
qualities. She sees the good in people, even when it isn’t there. She is
compassionate, affectionate, and outgoing. She carries herself gracefully, with
both confidence and poise. Yet no matter what her society might claim to the
contrary, the life she leads comes with a heavy price tag, and Joss Whedon
doesn’t leave that out of the picture. For one, I would argue she is ashamed of
her job—otherwise why would she take offence when Mal calls her a whore instead
of a companion? Perhaps she considers the two jobs as separate entities, or
perhaps she prefers to hide behind a euphemism. Either way, we see how her
hopes of a genuine romance with the captain can only ever be crushed, and
though she sees herself as well-liked and well-respected, she misses the fact
that her clients see her only as a tool or a plaything.
As for the other characters, Simon,
River, and Shepherd Book, I’ll probably discuss them at a later date.
To
Sum Up. I love so many things about FIREFLY,
don’t get me wrong. But I think it’s important to ask myself the question,
“Does being likeable make a villain any less of a bad guy?” The crew of
Serenity is cute and funny, and they mesh well together. The stories are tense
and interesting, and the characters feel like real people with real problems
and real hopes and dreams. Still I have to wonder if shows like FIREFLY do us a
disservice by portraying a life of crime as exciting and fun, a viable option
for those who would rather not be bound by society’s rules. I don’t want to
undermine the fact that Mal has been deeply wounded by his experiences in the
war, and that—consequently—he harbors no desire to abide by the Alliance’s
laws. And I get that the popular moral spectrum has shifted in the five hundred
years between now and then, leaving more and more fuzzy, grey areas. I also
understand that the Alliance is not the sort of government you would want
hanging over your head. But while Mal and his friends are nice, nice and good
are not one and the same. And I’m not convinced we should root for devils just
because they look like angels.
So
now it’s your turn. I’d love to hear some of your thoughts on the morality in
FIREFLY Do you think it crosses too many lines—or too few? What do you think
the show might be trying to say about Mal’s character? What about Inara? If
you’ve watched Firefly and enjoyed it, do you think your appreciation of the
show would change if Mal and his friends weren’t the main characters?
