Nothing, But the Rain

It might sound odd to some, but, the truth is, I enjoy a rainy day. There's something about the atmospheric pressure - the build and release - that gives me a sense of peace when the water begins to fall. I don't mind being wet and, when it's colder, it's a decent excuse to drink a warm beverage, maybe some soup, and watch a movie or read a book. Staring out of a window into a rain-drenched world, it can be a little melancholic. But, I like that sort of thing - especially when I approach it as life affirming - as I know that this also means the sun will, again, come out soon. And, if not the sun, then the moon. It's an opportunity to be contemplative without being mopey or brooding. And, lets be honest, our world could use a little more contemplation from time to time.

"Nothing, but the rain" is a line taken from Battlestar Galactica, a science fiction re-imagining of the 1970's television series of the same name. Two of the main characters (Bill Adama portrayed by Edward James Olmos; Kara "Starbuck" Thrace; portrayed by Katee Sackhoff - seen left) share a repeated back-and-forth derived from military marching cadences. This exchange deeply resonates with the sense of kinship, understanding, and trust within their father/daughter-like relationship:

Adama: What do you hear, Starbuck?

Starbuck: Nothing, but the rain, sir.

Adama: Then grab your gun and bring in the cat.

Starbuck: Boom boom boom!/Wilco!/Aye-aye, sir. (varied)

It's a great exchange, aptly denoting an emotional connection beyond the words typed on the page. As a creative choice, Ron Moore effectively demonstrates his appreciation for nuance in the fiction he writes. As such, it further adds another element to those that made Battlestar such a great series.

Recently, I've discovered some news concerning Caprica, Battlestar's prequel spin-off series:

James Marsters will be joining the cast and making repeated appearances as an important character!

I'll avoid going into the obvious excitement of having James Marsters as a regular on another television favorite-to-be and go into the greater discussion - the eventual collaboration of Ron D. Moore and Joss Whedon.

It's close and I can feel it. The planets are slowly aligning. Battlestar alum Tamoh Penikett already has found himself as a main character on Whedon's Dollhouse. James Marsters was cast as an important character on Moore's Caprica. And then, of course, there was this little skit from Robot Chicken:

They can leave Seth McFarlane to concoct another version of Family Guy/American Dad. But, the divine union (as I've just now started calling it) smells of inevitability and I cannot wait. In my fantasy world, it looks a lot like this:

(Joss Whedon and Ron Moore are walking outside on the street, each carrying a script)

Whedon: Oh, woe is me! I've started writing the perfect script, but I've only been able to finish the first half! Frustration!

Moore: Wow, Joss that's interesting! I, too, have been working on the perfect script, but I've only been able to finish the second half!

Whedon: That is odd and strangely coincidental!

Moore: Let's exchange scripts and see if we can help each other!

(5 minutes later)

Whedon and Moore: HOLY CRAP!

Whedon: This would be the perfect ending to my script!

Moore: And, this would be the perfect beginning to my script!

Whedon: We should collaborate and create the perfect story in whatever visual medium we decide!

Moore: I agree without reservation! Isn't it interesting how we know all the same people, yet never had this idea before?

Ozkirbas: Hey guys!

Whedon and Moore: Hello there, person we've just met who has materialized from nowhere!

Ozkirbas: I have no clue why or how I'm here, but I wanted to let you know that I've been pulling for this for a long time!

Whedon and Moore: That's excellent, John! We greatly appreciate it!

Ozkirbas: Wow, that was oddly prescient and uttered in complete unision. But, I'm okay with it!

Whedon: Why don' t you come along and we'll introduce you to everyone we know and tell you the secret of our success!

Ozkirbas: Sure! Let me go to the bathroom first just in case I get too excited!

Moore: I would! Because, the first person you're meeting is Katee Sackhoff!

Ozkirbas: Awesome! All my dreams are suddenly coming true!

What a nice fantasy. But, I'm confident it's bound to happen. And, when it does, I will watch nothing else. Nothing.

Ratatouille and Battlestar Galactica!?

Pardon my indulgence, but it's rare for me to discuss in depth one of the greater passions I retained from undergrad; namely, Jungian psychological theory and its relation to storytelling mediums.

(Property of Richard Chapman)

Perhaps my fascination rests in the concept that, despite the dramatic differences between the various ethnicities and heritages of humanity, a representative set of (near infinite) constants still arise universally from all cultures across the world. Examples can be seen between sand mandalas and stained-glass church windows to even theater-culture's own application of Jungian Archetypal Theory (developed by Pearson). Needless to say, the idea of a "collective unconsciousness" and the presence of Jungian archetypes across different mediums remains a persistent part of my thoughts and analyses. Imagine my excitement to find that I may have recognized an American cultural favorite between two distinctive mediums - Science Fiction and Animation. A shocking find, I've recently discovered that Disney/Pixar's Ratatouille shares some striking archetypal parallels with Ronald D. Moore's re-imagined series Battlestar Galactica - particularly between characters Remy the Rat and Gaius Baltar. (consider this post "spoilerific")

Remy (voiced by stand-up comedian Patton Oswalt; seen right) is Ratatouille's protagonist, a young rat born with an inalienable desire for higher learning and sophistication, and with a nose more sensitive than your average rodent's. Pinned down by his blue-collar, French-country roots and his father's supreme mandate, Remy dreams to cook and create the finest French cuisine. We learn early on that Remy is a little selfish and self-centered, not nearly content with securing his family's well-being as the official "poison detector" (He has the unique ability to smell and segregate rat poison). He regularly disobeys the rules ensuring rat-survival to follow his flights of fancy by sneaking into the kitchen to learn French gourmet. Of course, he learns to read in the process from a cookbook written by his idol Chef Auguste Gusteau. To be fair, he remains loyal - begrudgingly fulfilling his duties with no more than an argument with his father - and the audience certainly sympathizes with his desire to follow his aspirations.

Remy's life heads to a turning point when he's separated from his pack during an emergency and stranded in the sewers. On the verge of starvation, Remy begins speaking with the hallucination of his beloved idol Gusteau - who helps him to stay alive, serves as an encouraging mentor, and represents his conscience and sense of guilt. Their travels take them to Paris, France where Remy can vicariously experience the sophistication and prestige of being a gourmet chef through Linguini, his near talentless human friend. Remy is frequently tested during his endeavors to become a better person and friend at the risk of becoming vindictive and hurtful. His journey teaches him not only to follow his dreams, but to become less selfish and understand the perspective of others. Remy learns to be forgiving and to use his gift to help his friends and family instead of just himself. BSG's Baltar shares similar distinctive parallels.

Battlestar Galactica covers the events following the nuclear genocide and near extinction of the human race - of which Gaius Baltar (seen left; portrayed by British actor James Callis) is the inadvertent cause. Through out Baltar's journey, we learn of Baltar's early life as the son of a poor farmer, the altering of his accent to sound more refined and to abandon his past, and his ultimate goal in becoming affluent and sophisticated . A fervent liar and manipulator, Baltar's decisions swim in moral ambiguity and it is often left to the audience to determine whether his actions are justified. He is vain, egotistical, and arrogant - but still very human - and his primary motivation is his own survival. Baltar's endeavors eventually prepare him to become a key player in humanity's survival, to abandon his self-serving nature in the process, and to hone his gifts for the general good.

Baltar is introduced as a famous, young genius who mastered multiple sciences and capitalized on his brilliance. Despite his intelligence, he illegally hires his lover (seen below; portrayed by Tricia Helfer) to aid him in designing a security program for the entire military, for which he retains full credit (despite her performing a great deal of the work). When she catches him sleeping with

another woman, his lover reveals that she is a Cylon - robotic servants created by mankind who rebelled forty years ago, disappeared after a truce, who have returned, and now appear human - of which she is the 6th model out of 12. She informs him that she left several back doors in the security program to exploit, that the Cylons intend on eradicating the entire human race, and that she is going to save his life because she is in love with him. Immediately thereafter, she uses her body to shield him from the shock-wave of a nuclear blast, allowing him to survive. As fate would have it, Baltar makes it off the planet with the other survivors when he suddenly begins to see (and feel) apparitions of his former lover. Her image (nicknamed "Head Six") serves as his guide throughout the entire series as he learns the value in putting others before himself. Whether Head Six is real and what she represents is debatable, although she overtly serves as Baltar's guilt complex, his survival instinct, and an outlet for his sexual impulses. Only Baltar can see, feel, and interact with her, appearing to babble madly at the air to anyone else. Although she doesn't always appear benevolent, Baltar is utterly dependent on Head Six for his survival and redemption as the series barrels forward.

From their working-class roots to the lessons they learn, Remy and Baltar share an interesting comparison. Aside from the more mature theme of BSG, their journeys are nearly identical from start to finish. Whether these roles function as an archetype is certainly debatable, but I ask you to compare them to a character like Shakespeare's Hamlet - who is also self-centered, bright, and (arguably) whose guilt complex manifests as the ghost of his idolized father. The only difference with Hamlet, of course, is that his madness presses him down a path of destruction and tragedy, as opposed to Remy and Baltar who ultimately are better for it. Much like the "anti-hero" archetype, we, as people, enjoy this concept, as it produces very human characters who either slowly learn how to redeem themselves or deservedly fail - a notion which is universally accessible. I expect that there are many more roles that share similarities with these characters - can you think of any? Post below.

Representing.

The battle for a fair representation of minorities in the popular media is a well-placed and rightful concern. It is no secret that a majority of the leading and supporting roles in mainstream entertainment tend to skew to one-side - namely, straight, white, and, male. Women are typically portrayed to be the wives, girlfriends, or points of sexual tension for a male protagonist, where people of color are shifted to the infamous "best friend" slot or "token" space. That is not to say that writers/creators intentionally craft these roles to be non-compelling, stale, sexist, and/or racist (although, I would not put it past some network executives). It is more of a sad status quo, reflective of the personal oversights and limitations of the writers and creators themselves.

To their defense, writers often do their best by writing what they know and many writers tend to be white and male. By the same hand, it makes sense that many compelling roles in the popular media are going to stem from these writers' inherent knowledge of themselves and their own personal experiences. However, that does not mean that writers should not try to

create roles for women and minorities that are more compelling. In fact, I support whole heartedly the push for creators to branch out from the safe confines of self-relevancy when it comes to writing for main and supporting characters. Lately, however, I have been wondering, "how far does this go?"

I stumbled onto a blog not too long ago criticizing the portrayal of prostitutes and women in the popular media (namely Joss Whedon's Firefly). The author herself is a prostitute and, while her perspective is interesting (albeit assumptive and short-sighted) and she brings some valid points, she knocked me for a loop when she stated:

"It is my opinion that, if you champion yourself as an advocate of issues for one marginalised [sic] group, you have more responsibility to be aware of the issues that other marginalised [sic] groups face, and to take care in your representation of them. Otherwise it is hypocritical at best and outrightly privilege promoting at worst."

... really? All of them? Is that possible? Having a good grasp on one or a few is not good enough? Generally, this comment has its roots in the right soil. Writers, when portraying nearly any character or theme, need to do their research and ensure that the representations they choose are fair and accurate. But, applying the principle to, say, race - how are we to ensure that all representations are fair? For instance, if I choose to write a character explicitly designated as African-American, from where are this character's origins going to be the most fair? Is the character rich or poor? Northern or Southern? From Oakland, or Detroit? If I choose to have this character come from Alaska, is he/she going to be considered someone who fairly represents African-Americans in a general sense? What if I write a script for a movie where the lead role is to be a Japanese woman, but the best actor for the part happens to be Korean. How much of the story am I going to have to change to make this representation more fair? Would it be fine if I do not account for the actor's race within the story line?

Certainly, these questions take some thought. But, lets take it one step further by imposing that all works, when applicable, should fairly represent all groups, minority or not, at all times. If I were to create a story within a fictional town set in modern day America, what demographic data should I reference to guestimate how many members of various ethnic groups I need to designate speaking parts? Would it be okay if the main characters were predominately Italian-American-Catholics even if they were not related? How many Jewish, American-Indian, or Hawaiian speaking parts will "counter-balance" my primarily Italian-American cast? We have not even discussed sexual preference yet.

If the concept is a little offensive, it should be. I have basically, within the confines of my hypothetical, asked you to compartmentalize, trivialize, and objectify entire cultures, races, and creeds in a single statement for the express purpose of creating a product that appears "fair-minded." Sometimes, I get the sense this could be where this general movement ends up. That is not to say stopping the movement is a good idea. Far from it, in fact - I just think this is a place where it could lose its proper footing. A big part of progress is simply to break up homogeny. To make sure that what we are watching/reading/listening to is diverse, interesting, and enriching. Does that mean that having a t.v. show or two with characters primarily of one race is bad? No - it's really not. What it does mean is that what we should be aiming for is simply taking the ratio of works that do and making it drop. Dramatically. Because people really do like to flip on the tube or go to a movie and say "Hey, he/she's like me!" And, lets be honest, do you really want to be drinking whole milk all the time?

For popular television that seems to give minorities and people of color more sway, I think of two series:

Battlestar Galactica:

 In an instant, humanity (in a future, alternate universe) is nearly taken from several billion people to under 50,000 by their former, now sentient, creations. You will notice a lot of the main characters in the series are white, it is true. And you will notice a lot the characters aren't, as well. In this compelling space drama, most characters are given some pretty dynamic and sympathetic story-lines and a fair mix of the characters have varying ethnicities - a rarity in the genre of science fiction. Edward James Olmos (seen left) says it a lot better than I ever will. If the premise does not draw you or if the title scares you off, take in at least one episode for the splendor of non-homogenous casting.

Dexter: 

A contemporary noir where the detective is a killer who kills bad guys to feed his impulses. The series is set in Miami, Florida, so if the cast was not diverse it just would not be believable. The leading man may be as caucasian as they come, but he is surrounded by people who are not. Strong leads and supporting characters, yes. But, you have to love a show that throws in a little spanish dialogue (even the sociopath knows a little español). Dark, violent, humorous, and well produced, it is a good show all around. So check it out if you have not already.