Firefly Rewatch 2012: "Shindig"

"Up until the punching, it was a real nice party."

I'm back from my trip and catching up on the nerd initiative to rewatch the brilliant-but-cancelled Firefly, to mark the show's ten-year anniversary. This week: "Shindig." Original air date: November 1, 2002.

I have an admission to make: "Shindig" might be my favourite episode of Firefly. It's my go-to episode whenever I see my DVDs sitting on the shelf and immediately need to go back to the 'verse. I don't think I'll ever tire of watching it. Directed by TV journeyman Vern Gillum (whose name sounds like he should be on the show, no?) and written by the fantastic Jane Espenson. She's worked with Joss Whedon since Buffy and has since lent her talents to top-notch sci-fi series and comedies. She's also a great follow on Twitter. But I think the main reason why I'm singing her praises is because she wrote this episode.

I wrote in my "Out of Gas" post that Fox made a sort-of bold decision in airing such a powerful episode so early in the show's run. Unfortunately, the contrast between "Out of Gas" and "Shindig" is proof that this show was mishandled. Sure, "Shindig" is a much lighter, less emotionally destructive episode, and a welcome change, but there's no continuity. Firefly may not need to rely on heavily serial storytelling, but there are literally no consequences following an episode in which two characters came very close to death. It just doesn't make any sense.

However, on its own, "Shindig" is pure awesome. There are so many things I love about it, mostly because all of the characters have a moment of their own. This episode reminds me why I love all of them.

I love River because of how completely unpredictable she is. In this episode, rather than just being taken over by the fear and paranoia that have ruined her, she verbally lays out the small-time crook that Serenity's crew didn't want to do business with.
I love Book and Simon because they take such good care of River. Such endless patience. It's incredible.
I love Inara because she's smarter and more refined than any of the men rich enough to pay her. Atherton Wing, her client in this episode, is a perfect example of that. He's so stuck-up and spoiled that he has to pay women to attend parties with him. He can't even rely on his fancy British accent to pick up girls, because every time he speaks he sounds like a moron. No wonder Mal spends half the episode wanting to punch him in the face.
I love Jayne because he never fails to make me laugh. Also because he is Jayne Cobb.
I love Wash and Zoe because they have the perfect marriage.
I love Mal because he's loyal to the people he cares about, no matter what. And because of his hilarious suit and tight pants.

And I love Kaylee because she's so honest. No filters. So true to herself. She loves getting dirty and fixing things just as much as she loves fancy buffet tables and fluffy dresses. And no matter whether she's fixing something or walking through a fancy party, she never even pretends to hide her emotions. Also, I love that she calls Mal "Captain Tightpants."

Since it took me so long to crank out this post, I rewatched this episode with the DVD commentary on. I learned that the show's costume designer loved this show maybe even more than fans do. She made sure that every detail was perfect, that every costume told a story. She made sure that all of the designs on Jayne's shirts said something about him. She borrowed a hoop skirt that had been used in The King and I to make Kaylee's pink dress. And she used the skirt from her own wedding dress for Inara's gown. No series before or since has looked quite like it, and it's a shame that it was cancelled so early, because her eye for costumes was incredible.

Mighty fine shindig.

Firefly Rewatch 2012: "Out Of Gas"

I'm back from my trip and catching up on the nerd initiative to rewatch the brilliant-but-cancelled Firefly, to mark the show's ten-year anniversary. This week: "Out of Gas." Original air date: October 25, 2002.

There are quite a few lessons I learned in film school that have stuck with me. One of them is a quote attributed to Jean-Luc Godard: "A story must have a clear beginning, middle, and end... but not necessarily in that order." That's what "Out of Gas" is all about - using nonlinear storytelling to pack an emotional punch.

I wasn't ready to watch this episode again. I remembered that it was brilliant episode, and that I loved the way it used flashbacks, but I also remembered that it was a lot to handle. Unfortunately, due to my (oft-delayed) Firefly rewatch mission, I had no choice.

The very first thing you see and hear in this episode is nothing. The ship is still, empty, quiet. I've said before that this show is so clever, so dialogue-heavy that the silent moments always come as a shock. The first sign of life? Mal, barely alive, hitting the ground. In the ten years that have passed, Nathan Fillion has aged a little bit, and somehow he looks especially young in this particular shot. Too young to die, and yet I know that that's a serious possibility.

Over the course of these 40-some-odd minutes, we see how the show's characters joined the crew, and almost get an idea of what made them bond together. We see how they came on the ship, how they leave it, and how they almost could have died without an escape plan. We see that Mal is a real captain, through and through, and how his responsibility to his ship outweighs everything else that's important to him. There's some vintage Firefly levity in there, but it's mostly just Tim Minear making us feel our feelings.

This episode was intended to air much later in the series' run - when we're even more attached to the characters and the ship, but in a way, Fox made a really ambitious decision by messing with the intended air date of this particular episode. Putting your characters in mortal danger and exposing their backstories when viewers are only five episodes in? That's big. And it happened two whole years before ABC aired Lost, whose third episode ("Walkabout") threw its viewers right into the kind of intense storytelling that would make the show famous. And, like "Walkabout," it's the kind of episode that never loses its impact. (Sidebar: Jack Shephard vs. Mal Reynolds. Discuss.)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think there's something in my eye.

Firefly Rewatch 2012: "Jaynestown"

"We gotta go to the crappy town where I'm a hero!"

I'm back from my trip and catching up on the nerd initiative to rewatch the brilliant-but-cancelled Firefly, to mark the show's ten-year anniversary. This episode: "Jaynestown." Original air date: October 18, 2002.

So, this episode was written by Ben Edlund, who went on to write and produce for Supernatural. He wrote an episode called "Hollywood Babylon," which was so deliciously Whedonesque that I should have known it was written by someone who's worked with the man himself.

There are so many things I love about "Jaynestown." Edlund involves every character in this episode in one way or another. Except for maybe Zoe. I could have used more Zoe. (And maybe more Wash.)

This may be a Jayne-centric episode but I want to write about River and Shepherd Book first. Their subplot may not have seemed that it important, but it was fun, well-written, and moving. I absolutely love the scene where River is fixing the Shepherd's Bible because it's "broken." In just one sentence, Edlund exhibits both the mania and the incredible brainpower that makes River so interesting, and then leads it into this exchange:

• Book: River, you don't fix the Bible.
• River: It's broken. It doesn't make sense.
• Book: It's not about making sense. It's about believing in something, and letting that belief be real enough to change your life. It's about faith. You don't fix faith, River. It fixes you.

And that, kids, (WARNING: possible church-y sounding stuff ahead, deal with it) is one of the most honest statements about faith I have ever seen in the media. I don't really see a lot of mainstream shows and movies that take the time for a scene like this one, that speaks so loudly about the role that faith can have in a person's life, or the way that it can be viewed by others, without rolling its eyes and dismissing everyone as an extremist or a freak of some kind. But the way that Shepherd Book feels about faith? That's how I feel, in the exact words that I would have used to say it, if I had just known to find them. It doesn't happen often that you find a phrase that expresses your exact feelings, and I kind of can't believe that I did. (Interesting bit of knowledge for you: this year is the Year of Faith in the Catholic Church.)

Oh, this post is starting to run long, isn't it? Okay. I'll skip right to the Jayne stuff. After all, this was one of the episodes I chose to watch shortly before my Adam Baldwin encounter at Montreal Comic-con.

The A-plot of this episode was brilliant. Smart, poignant, endlessly quotable. It starts out a little rough, when we see just how difficult things are in Canton, a mud-farming community that's rich in mud but otherwise dirt poor. But as soon as we find out that there's a statue in Canton of folk hero, Jayne Cobb, things get awfully interesting. And they only get better as Jayne receives (quite literally) a hero's welcome. And then when they sing a song about him. Here's the song, performed by Adam Baldwin himself even though he told us at Montreal Comic-con that he'd promised Joss Whedon he wouldn't wear the Jayne hat OR sing the song:

My research hasn't yielded a definite answer about who wrote the song. It may have been Ben Edlund, but like a lot of nerds I suspect it was written by Joss himself. (By the way, according to Whedonverse legend, Joss Whedon had never written music before he sat down to write the musical episode of Buffy. That's talent.)
This episode was a great showcase for everything I love about Jayne: the hard-drinking, the egotism, the womanizing... But then again, basically every episode is a great showcase for Jayne. His reaction upon finding out that he's a local hero is priceless. First he's embarrassed (a sign of the remorse that we don't yet know about), then he soaks up all his fame and the alcohol that comes with it, then he realizes that he might be in trouble when the people of Canton expect him to continue being heroic, and then the whole mess that happens when the illusion is shattered and everyone finds out he isn't a hero after all. And somehow, even Jayne is disappointed in himself.

“You think there’s someone just gonna drop money on ya? Money they could use? Well, there ain’t people like that. There’s just people like me.”

Another episode, another brilliant plot twist. I love you, Firefly.

Firefly Rewatch 2012: "Our Mrs. Reynolds"

I'm back from my trip and catching up on the nerd initiative (post-vacation) to rewatch the brilliant-but-cancelled Firefly, to mark the show's ten-year anniversary. This week: "Our Mrs. Reynolds." Original air date: October 4, 2002.

One thing I've been doing as I rewatch Firefly is observing how much has changed in the ten years since these episodes aired. One change that you can't help but notice in "Our Mrs. Reynolds" is, well, Mrs. Reynolds. In 2002, almost no one knew who this pretty red-haired girl was:

In 2012, well, come on. Christina Hendricks, am I right, everyone?

Even before Mad Men was a twinkle in Matt Weiner's eye, Christina Hendricks proved she knew how to hold it down. She owns this episode as a young woman who is offered as a wife to Captain Mal - except he was so drunk during the ceremony that he doesn't remember marrying her, and this poor naive girl is terrified that she has displeased him somehow. She's the anti-Zoe: she relinquishes all control to her husband and wants only to make him happy. Then she starts seducing everyone and drugging them, and it turns out that our Mrs. Reynolds isn't what she seems to be. And I just sit there and watch as Firefly throws me another plot twist. 

I think my favourite part of this episode was the moment when "Saffron" (using quotes since that's not her real name and we don't know what to call her) meekly reveals to Mal that she's his wife, and Mal (for the first time in the series so far) can't think of anything, witty or otherwise, to say. He is rendered completely speechless from the shock. It's just a brilliantly scripted bit in a show that I normally love for its dialogue.

What is it about this show that just gets to me? You know, other than the dialogue, the characters, the plotting, and the fact that there will probably never be another show like it? I still can't put my finger on it, but I'll keep catching up until I find out.

Firefly Rewatch 2012: "Bushwhacked"

I'm taking part in the nerd initiative to rewatch the brilliant-but-cancelled Firefly, one episode a week, in the order that they aired, to mark the show's ten-year anniversary. This week: "Bushwhacked." Original air date: September 27, 2002.

I've got to be perfectly honest and admit that I have zero memory of this episode. Which isn't so bad when you think about it, because there is so little of this show that eventually, enough rewatches will make you feel like you've seen it a million times. I'll enjoy watching things while they still seem new, because sometimes you get to the point where you wish you could see a certain episode for the first time all over again.

Here's an episode summary from DenOfGeek, which is about as concise as it can get: "The episode centres on the crew's discovery of a seemingly abandoned ship, after literally colliding with one of its occupants. What they discover (apart from the goods they're looking to 'salvage') is a massacre, presumably by the brutal and deadly Reavers. Before being brought in by the Alliance, they rescue the ship's only survivor, and the true extent of his psychological damage puts everyone in danger."

oh also, one of the husbands from Desperate Housewives is in it.

A bit of quick research didn't yield any information about what kind of budget this episode had, but it has pretty great production value. (Except for maybe the scenes in the Alliance ship, because somehow the Alliance always kind of looks like generic sci-fi. The Alliance ought to see to their girl.) I loved the camera work in this episode. The fact that a TV show that's ten years old can still look so impressive after ten years, after a deluge of cable networks put out expensive-looking shows and major networks tried to hard to imitate them, is pretty amazing.

This episode shows us two of the biggest evils in the 'Verse: First, there's the Alliance. In this episode, they seem an awful lot like the governments we know and hate: bureaucratic and intelligent, but also kind of a major annoyance. They're more of a thorn in your side than a knife in your back. Then, there are the Reavers. We don't even see the Reavers in this episode - we just see the results of their actions, and it's enough to scare us. Basically they leave hanging heaps of dead bodies in their trail, and only one survivor who is so mentally scarred by what he witnessed that all he can do is start to become like the monsters that killed everyone on his ship. He's not even actually a Reaver (at least, not yet?) and he's nowhere near human anymore. The violence in this episode is still pretty scary.

There aren't quite as many one-liners in this episode, but the writing is good enough that even though it's only the second episode, we get a good sense of who all these characters are. I guess having a character interview the ship's entire crew kind of makes this easy.

...or the writers can say an awful lot by not even writing any dialogue.

I liked that all of the characters seemed like they had a role in this episode, no matter how big or small. This episode is also really great for River, who in "The Train Job" (and, if memory serves, in the pilot as well) was more of a plot device than a person. Yes, she did cool martial arts stuff, and she said a lot of creepy things, but in "Bushwhacked" she actually seems a lot more human, and I found myself feeling more sympathy for her than I usually do. It's not that I don't like River, I just feel like her mental state can at times make it more difficult for the audience to understand her. (I do actually like River a lot, because there aren't a lot of other characters out there quite like her, except for maybe every other character that's been specifically written for Summer Glau in the last ten years.)

All in all, "Bushwhacked" isn't the episode that the series is best remembered for, but every good first season has an early episode that helps to expose what the show is all about, and that's what we have here. And no, I still do not have a favourite character. And yes, I still wish that in another life I could be brilliant enough to think up a show like this.

Look for Firefly Rewatch every weekend from now until I run out of episodes. If I'm on this continent, I will be watching Firefly. (I say this because I might be out of the continent for two weeks.)

Firefly Rewatch 2012: "The Train Job"

As mentioned in my last post, Joss Whedon's short-lived series Firefly premiered ten years ago this week. After seeing pictures from the cast reunion at San Diego Comic-Con, and reacquainting myself with my inner Joss Whedon fangirl at Montreal Comic-Con, I've decided to rewatch it. The same way it aired - one episode a week, in the (completely illogical) order that they aired.

Okay, who are we kidding. My inner Joss Whedon fangirl was not hiding anywhere. Whedon's writing changed both television and its viewers, including me. I didn't actually watch Firefly when it first aired - somehow, a print journalist saying that a new series is a space western didn't convince me to watch it. Buffy was still on the air at the time, so I had my fix of Whedonesque writing, and there was so much on TV that I didn't even give it a try. Maybe, if I'd had a nerdy enough friend at the time to explain to me what exactly made it a space western and just how damn cool that is, I would have been convinced.

So, let me be that friend and tell you in just a few words what makes Firefly great, if you've never watched it: All of the adventure and the planet-hopping of Star Wars. (Space!) An ensemble cast of good-guy rebels played by actors that I immediately became attached to. (Western!) Lovable characters and the kind of writing that you could only get when a choice screenwriter brings his A-game and assembles a crack team of writers. There are no other shows quite like it, and you just need to watch it to understand why.

If you're watching the series for the first time, I highly recommend that you watch it in the order that Joss Whedon (and God) intended. Since the fans are rewatching them in the order that they aired (and so I could see what all of the anger is about) I'm doing that, too.

First up: "The Train Job," which was the first episode to air but was intended as a second episode after the two-part pilot. In this episode, the crew of Serenity are hired by a creepy-looking man with a ridiculous accent (and a propensity for threats) to steal cargo from a train, only to realize that some paydays just aren't worth the money.

The first two minutes or so of the episode (or rather, of the series as it aired on Fox) look like basically any sci-fi series ever, in terms of production value. Luckily, as soon as three of our main characters are onscreen, the actors and the dialogue demonstrate that isn't isn't just any sci-fi series ever. We get a pretty good sense of who these characters are: Mal is charming, witty, and stubborn, Jayne is bristlier and more badass than most action heroes, and Zoe is tough as nails. If I was watching this show for the first time, I probably wouldn't have had such a good grasp on any of the other characters. The viewer gets a base for who these characters are in the big picture of things - but they don't get a really clear view of that picture. Most of the pilot's audience probably scratched their heads, trying to figure out who some of these characters were and how they came together. In particular, all we see of River is that she's unstable but we don't really know why, or who she is, and that's pretty unfair considering that she gets a hell of an introduction in the original pilot.

This episode, like most of the series, gives us a really interesting picture of good and bad in the universe that Whedon has created here. Thieves for hire are supposed to be the bad guys, but once they realize that they are (because that the medical supplies they've been hired to steal are desperately needed by the people they stole it from), they immediately change their minds about what they've done. Except for Jayne, who thinks that a job is a job, and might be a little bit intimidated by a scary crime lord and his face-tattooed minion. Inara has more social power and respect than Shepherd Book, and Book knows it. These characters are in a really interesting place on the moral spectrum, and I think that will continue to figure as the series goes on.

Overall, "The Train Job" tempers what could have been a really heavy episode with so much humour and excitement that it hardly feels serious at all. Now, almost every bit of dialogue is delicious, but this episode has one of everyone's favourite lines:

It also has one of my favourite lines:

(Okay, actually, that entire scene is brilliant. I think this may be Adam Baldwin's best role, even though I've stated before that I love all his work.)

This is an extremely watchable episode, but it's an extremely watchable second episode. It doesn't necessarily function well as a pilot, no matter how hard it tries, because it wasn't written as one.

But who ever trusts the networks to make good decisions, anyway?

Look for Firefly Rewatch every weekend from now until I run out of episodes. If I'm on this continent, I will be watching Firefly. (I say this because I might be out of the continent for two weeks.)

Awesome, much?

(Written on the ten-year anniversary of the premiere of Firefly, which I did not expect to love, but do.)
As a pop-culture junkie turned hockey fan, I always find it interesting when my worlds collide.

I'm a nerd (yes) and spent half of last weekend at Montreal's Comic Con.
Among the things I did: Spend an inordinate amount of money on original art, T-shirts, and pins. Sneak pictures of celebrities I didn't want to spend money on or wait in line for. Take pride in telling Warehouse 13 star, Eddie McClintock, that I thought he was great on Friends, which is basically the opposite of what nerds usually do. Get a hug from Xander Harris himself, Nicholas Brendon. Stand by as my friend's friend get an autograph from Wil Wheaton that turned into more than just an autograph:

So, what's a girl to do after she meets Nicholas Brendon, and gets a hug from him? She walks over to Eddie McClintock, who is available for autographs but somehow no one is waiting in line for them. (He was also texting and chewing on something, possibly a cookie. Someday I will approach a famous person when they're not eating. Someday.) Because, come on, he was Phoebe's love interest for a whole two episodes while we watched Rachel have a baby.

So, I told an actor who's now on a cable sci-fi series that I loved his guest spot on one of the biggest shows of the last two decades. I told him I had heard that his role was supposed to be expanded in the following season of Friends, but those plans changed when a pilot he was cast in made it to series. To which he said, "Actually, I was bumped in favour of Paul Rudd." Now, in all honesty, Paul Rudd's character on Friends was awesome and any fictional character would be lucky to marry him, but you can't tell that to the actor whose role was reduced to two episodes. So, instead, Eddie McClintock and I shared a moment where we both shook our fists and said, "Damn you, Paul Rudd!"*

But the real excitement happened before and after this: Adam Baldwin was also in attendance. If you don't know who Adam Baldwin is, it's more than likely that you're wrong, you do know who he is, and you love him:

He had a Q&A panel, where he answered questions and told stories about all the roles he's been so great in. He talked about going to Nathan Fillion's house and keeping in touch with Zachary Levi. He name-dropped Joss Whedon and Stanley Kubrick. He recalled how the cast of Independence Day went a little crazy filming in desert heat, and how Judd Hirsch and Jeff Goldblum improvised "Jewish Death of a Salesman" between takes.

He also mentioned that he's a hockey fan. Shiny. I actually had no idea that he was, so my ears kind of perked up. (I know my friend Erin's did, too.) He said he was a Kings fan, and talked about how great it was to watch them win the Stanley Cup, and that he grew up in Chicago, and watching his old hometown team turn around and take home the Cup a few years ago made him happy, too. He also, obviously, mentioned that Los Angeles' last run at the Cup was, um, stopped by the Habs. He was really funny about it, and handled all of his questions really well. Yes, even laughing with the guy who thought that he was related to Alec and Stephen Baldwin (and the other two.)

It was so weird to think that I had no idea that this actor I've watched and loved in so many roles was a hockey fan, just like me.
So, the next day, I rushed to his autograph table right as he was getting up to leave. I had thought of what I would say, but obviously everything was a blur. (I have no photographic evidence of this, unfortunately, because no pictures were allowed, but I swear on my P.K. Subban jersey that every word of this is true.) I welcomed him to Montreal, told him I was a hockey fan too, and that the Kings are my favourite team in the West. Then, as sort of a peace offering for 1993, and because he's in Montreal, I gave him a Habs keychain - the only gift I could conjure up on such short notice. He probably won't use it or anything, because it's completely random, but the actor who has played so many tough guys just smiled, asked me my name, shook my hand, and thanked me.

It was pretty gorram cool.



*Hey, Paul Rudd, if you're reading this: No hard feelings?

An NHL Sorting Hat

I've been in major Harry Potter mode since visiting The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in January. That overlapped with the hockey season. Now, the last movie is coming out, I'm re-reading Deathly Hallows, and I'm in minor hockey withdrawal.

Instead of suspensions, maybe the NHL should just remove points from each team.

So, of course, I joined nerd-forces with my friend Laura from The Active Stick and wodered which Hogwarts houses some NHL players would be Sorted into. (No rhyming Sorting Hat song, though, sorry.)

MAX PACIORETTY: You've been through many injuries and many trials this year... Lots of grace under fire, and more than enough bravery. GRYFFINDOR!

ZDENO CHARA: Quite a bit of skill, I see... And you just won the Stanley Cup, so we know you're capable of great things. I see a lot of selfish anger inside you. (Plus I know what you did to Max Pacioretty.) SLYTHERIN! And take your team with you!

SAKU KOIVU: Boundless patience, good character, and a nice amount of talent... You've survived so much adversity, so clearly there's a lot of courage there. The choice is obvious... GRYFFINDOR!

Habs red + Ducks yellow/gold/beige/browncolour = Gryffindor?
WE MISS YOU, SAKU!

MARTIN ST. LOUIS: You've won many trophies, and you've helped a young teammate achieve great success. You appear to be humble enough, and you love your team... HUFFLEPUFF!

RICK NASH: Neville Longbottom, is that you? Trying to get Sorted again, I see. There's no need to doubt the Sorting Hat. GRYFFINDOR!

JAMES WISNIEWSKI: Smart, very smart... You're able to adapt to new surroundings very easily, I see. You look out for your teammates but you never forget to do what's best for yourself. Hmm... RAVENCLAW!

BROOKS LAICH: A good heart. Lots of talent as well. I seem to recall a story where you helped your fans, rather than thinking about yourself... You're very brave. And smart. Very smart, in fact. No, not Slytherin. Never Slytherin. There's too much goodness and loyalty in you. HUFFLEPUFF!

SHANE DOAN: HUFFLEPUFF! (I imagine this would happen just as quickly as when Draco Malfoy was Sorted into Slytherin.)

DANY HEATLEY: It appears that you cannot stay loyal to any one team. SLYTHERIN!

JONATHAN TOEWS: Very talented, I see. You're a great leader... Excellent reasoning, a sharp mind, and wit to match... RAVENCLAW!

ALEXANDER OVECHKIN: So much talent... and so much pride as well. You're smart on the ice, I see. But where to put you? You love your teammates, but not quite as much as you love yourself. SLYTHERIN!

BRAD RICHARDS: I'm just going through the motions. You've already decided what house you're in, so I don't need to say anything, do I?


Thoughts on whether there are any Bruins who don't belong in Slytherin, whether or not P.K. Subban is Gilderoy Lockhart with actual talent, and the awesomeness of a real-life National Quidditch League are welcome in the comments section.