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drwcn · 3 years

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The Shadow Beneath the Light: Complete

Concept: Sect Master Wen Qing & her harem of Jiang heirs demonic cultivators. CQL Verse.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Epilogue]

A few years later...

“A-Kuo, one last fish and we’ll go, okay? Gan’die says we’ll have to be back before dinner; if we’re late again, yi’fu is going to make us copy Lan Precepts whilst doing handstands -”

“Yes! Gotcha, you son of a -”

“A-Kuo.”

Lan Jingyi laughed, reeling in the line to inspect his largest catch yet. The koi fish flopped and writhed as he pulled it out of the water, a triumphant grin on his seven year old face.

“A-Yuan, look!” He turned to his adoptive brother, who sat on the shore with sleeves and pant-legs rolled up as he diligently cleaned the contents of the small basket filled with their afternoon’s effort. “And for the upmteenth time, call me Jingyi. I have a courtesy name now - you now - like a real cultivator.”

Jingyi said ‘real cultivator’ like he meant ‘big boy’.

“Right. Real cultivator.” Wen Yuan smiled. “Excellent, can the real cultivator among us bring over his large catch, so I can clean it? We can turn that one into a stew tonight, with chili peppers and pickled veggies - your favourite.”

Spring was Wen Yuan’s favourite’s time of the year. Every spring since his adoptive fathers were officially married, they would leave behind their sects and their duties to bring him and his brother to live at their small cottage, situated in the serene forest east of Mt. Dafan.

His family was the happiest, most relaxed when they were at the cottage. Their days were simple, filled with a quiet kind of a bliss and a soft, unassuming love. They dressed like all mountain households did, sturdy clothes of hemp and cotton dyed dark blues and browns; drank water from the well gan’die dug in the yard; and ate the food yi’fu managed to prepare. They rose with the sun, not at the strict hour of five (much to A-Kuo’s joy), and rested when their fathers said so. (Note: gan’die and yi’fu are both terms used for godfather or adoptive father)

Boys your age need to grow, so you must get plenty of sleep.

Wen Yuan knew they were getting spoiled as it were, and soon maybe their careless days would be coming to an end. He overheard yi’fu speaking with gan’die about sending him and A-Kuo to Cloud Recesses to study there permanently instead of just a few short summer months each year. Already, yi’fu had picked out a courtesy name for A-Kuo - Jingyi - which gan’die liked very much, but they had yet to come to an agreement for himself.

Wen Yuan wondered what name he was to be given. He took the new catch from Jingyi, cut and cleaned it the way shushu taught him last autumn when they visited Lotus Pier for the first time. The rebuilding efforts had begun, just as Wen-gugu promised. Gan’die said soon they may even be able to get their own rooms installed. Wen-gugu had written several weeks ago stating she planned to move Nevenight’s court every autumn and winter to the Wen sect’s new secondary palace in Yiling, so that Jiang Yanli and Jiang Wanyin may be close to Lotus Pier, their ancestral home.

Gan’die had gotten rather emotional at that, and after he read Wen Qing’s letter, he had cuddled against yi’fu for a good hour decidedly not crying.

“Wen Qing wants their next heir to be born in Yunmeng. It’s what she promised shijie and Jiang Cheng.” Gan’die had explained to yi’fu. Wen Yuan figured that meant he was getting another cousin soon.

Little Wen Lian, the absolute pearl in her parents eyes - all three of them - was already turning two.

“There, finished.” He plopped the fish into the basket and wiped his hands on a cloth. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” Jingyi stuffed his feet back into his shoes, smoothed down his robes and cringed. “I stink.”

“Me too. We need to bath tonight or we’ll end up going to Jinlintai smelling like fish.” Wen Yuan looped his arm through the vine straps of the basket and hauled it onto his small back. For an eight year old, he was rather strong.

“I don’t want to go to Jinlintai. It’s a wedding, so we’ll have to get all dressed up. I hope gan’die won’t make me wear the robes Jiang-shushu sent. They’re so...extra.”

Wen Yuan laughed at Jingyi’s obvious ire. “No, yi’fu promised you can just wear your Lan robes. Only gan’die has to wear shushu’s designs. It’s a set for three anyway. Something about being the ‘better-dressed’ 3-zun...apparently there’s both pride and money on the line.”

Jiang Cheng always insisted the Three Demonic Grandmasters could not allow the Venerated Triad to outdo them in the wardrobe department. Everyone knew Wen Qing indulged him, plying him with yards and yards of silk and satin and damask, but maybe she should stop, because it was getting ridiculous.

A lot has happened in the last couple of years, many changes Wen Yuan and Lan Kuo didn’t see coming. One day Wen Yuan was a simple village boy up on the mountains of Dafan and the next he was being whisked away to Nevernight and placed in a position of importance and respect. He had lost his family during the war, and Wen Qing, his aunt of distant relations, was his guardian. She loved him and cared for him, but she had others to love as well. Ultimately it was not Wen Qing with whom A-Yuan had formed an attachment. When Wei Wuxian remarried, Qishan Wen and Gusu Lan formed an alliance and a child from each clan was adopted by Yiling Laozu and Hanguang-jun. Wen Yuan was the obvious choice, but Jingyi was the unexpected.

A-Yuan looked to the other boy and smiled. He couldn’t have asked for a better brother.

The sun was just starting to set by the time the two of them trekked their way back to their home - a little provincial cottage tucked away in the woods. Yi’fu and gan’die had build it just for the four of them. It was a quaint little place, surrounded by a bamboo fence with a stone well in the front, a little vegetable garden in the back and enough clearing space for them to practice their forms each morning. Under the arching willow tree by the south end, yi’fu had strung up a simple wood-plank swing, something that never failed to bring a smile to gan’die’s face.

Wen Yuan and Lan Jingyi loved this cottage. As much as Cloud Recesses was ethereal, and as much as Nevernight was magnificent, it could not measure up to this home in the woods that was theirs.

Wei Wuxian was collecting dried laundry from the clothing line and folding them into the woven basket when he saw them. Straightening up, he huffed and called out over his shoulder, “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, they’re back! No need to go look for them.”

By the external hearth, Lan Wangji was chopping firewood into smaller pieces. “Good.”

“Oi, you rascals, you were gone for so long we were starting to worry you’d fallen into the river and got washed away.” Wei Wuxian admonished them half-heartedly, already lifting their baskets to inspect their batch. “Not bad, not bad indeed. I taught you well! Your yi’fu will make a stew for dinner.”

Lan Wangji thumped his axe onto the block, scooped up the firewood and nodded. “Mn.”

Living away from Cloud Recesses for so many seasons, he had slowly learned to cook non-vegetarian dishes for his family, especially for Jingyi, who had quite a carnivorous appetite. They’re growing boys, so they should have plenty of fish and soy and lean meat.

When Jiang Cheng was their age, Wei Wuxian had lamented to Lan Wangji one night, his eyes taking on a far away look, he could eat Madam Yu and Uncle Jiang out of their house and home.

“I’ll make Jingyi’s favourite. They did very well today,” Lan Wangji gave them a little smile.

The boys grinned, basking in their father’s approval.

“With pickled vegetables and chili pepper?” Jingyi pleaded hopefully, glowing with anticipation.

Wei Wuxian pinched his cheeks, “Yes, my little dirt ball. Now go wash up, you’re both filthy, dear immortals. There’s water in the basin. A-Yuan, do you know how to use the fire talisman to -”

“Yes, gan’die.” The boys dropped their baskets onto the ground and sprinted off with a little cheer.

Wei Wuxian sighed in contentment. “Boys...hmm!”

Lan Wangji drew him shamelessly into his arms and was pressing kisses against his neck. “Hahahahaha, Lan Zhan, that tickles! And the neighbours will talk!”

“We don’t have neighbours.” Lan Wangji mumbled against his nape, hiding a small smirk. It was true. The nearest hut was at least a good half a mile walk from theirs.

“But they’ll still talk! Auntie Chen gave me the smuggest grin last I was in town to pick up supplies!” Wei Wuxian protested, half indignant, half delighted.

Well, the truth was the venerated Hanguang-jun was a shameless exhibitionist when he was in the mood. A couple weeks back, they had been high up in the mountains cultivating together through duelling. The fight lasted the better half of the day and when they were done, Lan Wangji had apparently worked up another kind of appetite and ambushed the unsuspecting Wei Wuxian, ravishing him right up against an old pine three. Not expecting anyone to catch them in the act, Wei Wuxian saw no reason to keep quiet, which was how the two of them ended up giving a group of herb-picking aunties an eyeful of their “rigorous exercise.”

That, and Lan Wangij’s increasing habit of leaving marks high up on his neck, too high to be covered by the fold of his lapel.

And then there were nights when they’ve sent the boys off to be looked after by one of the many people who would be more than happy to spoil them (Nie Mingjue was somehow the worst but given the way Nie Huaisang turned out, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise), Wei Wuxian would emerge from a quick bath to find Lan Wangji draped across their bed in not a stitch, beckoning him with a demure little lowering of his gaze.

“How would the fearless Yiling Laozu like Wangji tonight.”

Wei Wuxian nearly died on the spot that one time.

Lan Zhan, you absolute shameless tart.

Sometimes he had to remind himself that this was the man who once walked away from Cloud Recesses to volunteer himself for Wen Qing’s harem. Wen Qing was a strong woman who worshipped Jiang Yanli and adored Jiang Wanyin, but hmm…sometimes Wei Wuxian believed that if Lan Wangji wanted to, eventually even Wen Qing would have caved. Ooh, and then they would have a real harem.

Jiang Cheng would be so jealous.

Wei Wuxian chuckled inwardly. He was glad though that it was just Lan Zhan, the boys and himself in this quiet little cottage. It was almost the end of spring now, which meant they’d have to return to Cloud Recesses soon for the summer. Wei Wuxian sighed, content in Lan Wangji’s arm. He leaned back into him and watched the sun fade beyond the trees.

The whole world was golden.

“Wei Ying.”

“Yah?”

“Are you happy?”

“I am, Lan Zhan, I am.”

~~~

Jiang Cheng opened an eye to the fading sun. He was lying on a luxurious wicker lounge chaise with silk pillows and fur paddings, taking a glorious nap under the tall blooming willow tree.

The warm weight of a small body burrowed into his side like a puppy drew his attention away from the sky. Pressed against his chest was a round, rosy cheek, slightly wet from the drool that trickled down from a rose-petal like mouth, a sight which endeared Jiang Cheng to no end.

Very carefully, he shifted his weight and curled his arm around the toddler.

“Jiang-xiansheng.” A servant curtseyed and greeted him quietly. It seemed she had waited for him to come to for some time.

He had returned at noon from a week-long night hunt excursion with a blend of Wen and Jiang disciples. Both Wen Qing and A-jie were busy tending to sect matters, so he bathed, consumed a light lunch and found rest under his favourite willow tree. He hadn’t thought he would have company, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Cui-momo,” Jiang Cheng greeted.

The old nanny smiled and said, “Lian’er-guniang wanted to nap by her diedie.”

“Of course she did.” At three years old, his only daughter and child was absolutely a spoiled princess. “You’re free to go, Cui-momo. I’ll take her from here on.”

The momo hesitated. “Ah -”

“Something the matter?”

“Ah no. Just, fu’ren sent word saying she and the sect master will be dining here tonight, and that afterwards the sect master would be staying, so perhaps it would be inconvenient for guniang to stay.”

Even after all these years, Jiang Cheng still couldn’t manage to hide a blush. Wen Qing was never one for public displays of affections, but it was no secret how much she adored Jiang Wanyin. And Jiang Yanli too was incredibly secure in her position and belief of Wen Qing’s affection that she often created little occasions for Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng to have quality time together while she monopolized little Wen Lian.

A-Qing, don’t neglect my little brother, she’d admonish, as if Wen Qing would ever.

You just want A-Lian to yourself.

Yes, that is true, and I want more A-Lians, so you and A-Cheng should go make more.

Yanli!

Wen Qing loved him and his sister beyond reason, equal but different. With Yanli, her feelings were almost akin to a reverent kind of worship, poignant and consuming in a way that her feelings for Jiang Cheng just wasn’t. A-jie once said that Wen Qing made her feel invincible, more than the demonic arts ever did, and Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure how they could love the same person and be so different in their love.

With Jiang Cheng, Wen Qing was soft and gentle, their affection for each other easy and sustained, like a stream of clear water melting in the spring. His favourite moments are the mornings when Wen Qing would lean out the window by their bed, letting the sun catch the shine in her loose, spilling hair, in no rush to be anywhere or do anything except enjoy the moment with him at her side.

Jiang Cheng sighed. After Lotus Pier’s massacre, he never thought he could be so happy again.

“It’s quite alright, Cui-momo, I’m sure A-jie will want to take Lian’er for the night.” Jiang Cheng said to the old nanny. He picked up Wen Lian in his arms, rising from his lounge chair. The child slept on, none the wiser.

“We’ll be heading down to Lanling in three days time. Have the packages been sent to Wei Wuxian?”

“Yes, Hanguang-jun wrote back saying the robes are all in Wei-gongzi’s measurements.”

“Excellent.”

As a rule, Jiang Cheng didn’t enjoy going to Lanling, mostly because he couldn’t stand to even think about Jin Guangshan’s face. But the old fucker has been dead for a couple of years now - an “unfortunate” encounter with a small bout of qi deviation and falling down stairs - and Lanling Jin has become greatly more tolerable under Jin Zixuan’s leadership. With any luck, his union with Luo Qingyang would rid their clan of the residual effect of Jin Guangshan’s bullshit all together.

“It won’t do to let the ‘venerated triad’ win in the wardrobe department. Lan Xichen is getting far too comfortable thinking he’s the epitome of fashion. I think we ought to keep him on his toes, don’t you think so, Cui-momo?”

“Indeed, Jiang-xiansheng, I do.”

Jiang Cheng smirked to himself, bouncing his precious toddler softly as he made his way back inside, not a worry on his mind.

~ FIN

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #chengqing #yanqing #cql ficlet #corie fics #tsbl

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pass-the-bechdel · 5 years

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Dollhouse full series review

How many episodes pass the Bechdel test?

96.15% (twenty-five of twenty-six).

What is the average percentage of female characters with names and lines for the full series?

45.89%

How many episodes have a cast that is at least 40% female?

Twenty.

How many episodes have a cast that is at least 50% female?

Twelve.

How many episodes have a cast that is less than 20% female?

Zero.

Positive Content Status:

Very poor - this is exactly why we don’t just rely on passing the Bechdel and having a large number of female characters in the cast as ‘guarantees’ that we’re watching feminist content. If all those female characters exist to be punished, objectified, and abused by the story’s creator as an expression of his misogynistic rage, that is not a good thing (average rating of 2.76).

Which season had the best representation statistics overall?

They’re about the same, really. The one Bechdel fail was in the first season, but season two had less female character presence overall, but it was also more balanced insofar as it scored more episodes with 40% or more on the cast. Both scored equally badly on content quality, though my feeling is that perhaps season one’s sins were the worse of the two. On the other hand, season one had more guest female characters AND it used its supporting female cast more prominently, whereas season two was more male-heavy not just in numbers but in screen time and narrative attention. At the end of the day, I’m not sure it matters which you consider to be worse.

Which season had the worst representation statistics overall?

See above. I cannot recommend this show for feminist content.

Overall Series Quality:

For a first-time viewer, there’s probably still solid potential for enjoyment, and at least some of the twists should be genuinely enjoyable. The majority of the cast is very excellent, and the idea of the show is compelling. However, the quality of the series as it turned out is negligible, full of flash and little substance, the bad apples in the cast spoil the batch while the good grapple with bad writing and the woeful underuse of their skills, and the whole thing remains far better as a thought than it is in execution. And then there’s the misogynistic rage thing. That’s a problem that really messes with the overall product, to put it lightly.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) under the cut:

For the record: I believe, sincerely and completely, that Joss Whedon hates women. Not that he doesn’t know how to relate to them or he misses ‘the old days’ or any other such placid disdain; I think he deeply and violently hates women, and I think the evidence is written all up and down his work - all of his work, but perhaps never more clearly than in this show. He can claim to be a feminist all he wants, he can put women at the forefront of his shows and talk big game about what he believes they’re capable of, but so long as the women in his stories continue to be mistreated at every turn, beaten, raped, and constantly belittled and devalued within the text, I will not be convinced that the man doesn’t resent the Hell out of women for existing - and particularly, for existing with potential for sexuality. The misogyny of the Whedonverse is rampant, unchecked, often participated in by his ‘heroes’ as much as his villains, and treated as largely incidental, rarely acknowledged and even then, gleefully delivered as ‘just the way things are’. Characters might shake their heads about how that’s unfortunate (and Whedon pats himself on the back for making such an insightful feminist statement), but the verbal denouncement doesn’t detract from the indulgent inclusion of that misogyny, the platform provided for it to roam uninhibited, and be showcased and vicariously enjoyed. For someone who claims to be a feminist, Whedon sure does seem to be fetishistically obsessed with making women suffer, and when I compare the content of his work to that of the other creators whose shows have appeared on this blog, the result is most unflattering.

As easy as it would be to while away this post explicating the details of Whedon’s reprehensible worldview, however, I shall refrain; for one, it would be boring as Hell, it’s not a complicated reality and the truth really is in the pudding for all to see, you don’t need me for that, and for two: I already promised to at last talk about the characters and their arcs (such as they are), since that is one subject I often neglected in the posts on this show, and arguably the only subject upon which the show could hang any virtues. Naturally, we will begin at the beginning, with the much-maligned lead character: Echo.

Eliza Dushku is not a terrible actor. But her range is pretty limited, she plays variations on the same archetype almost exclusively, and that’s a terrible fit for a show where the central caveat is supposed to be that she can take on any personality and be a complete and whole different person week by week. No one should ever expect to be able to float that idea with a lead who is so very obviously not up to the task, and while I don’t think she’s responsible for the failure of the show (all of its other flaws would have soundly sunk it even if Dushku was a crown jewel of talent), it certainly does not help that she’s easily the blandest and least compelling player in the whole sorry mess. It’s a cringe every time she utters some silly line about how powerful and badass she is, because there’s nothing convincing about it, and if the creative team really believed (and believed their audience would believe) that Echo is THAT great, they wouldn’t feel the need to have her showily declare it. When season two hits and Echo’s ‘character development’ fast-tracks to full sentience, she becomes even less dynamic: all of the things which could have provided legitimate engagement with the character’s struggle are skipped over, her process of self-actualisation (anyone who read my Farscape reviews knows my love for hard self-actualisation narratives), her navigation of her role as a developing entity in a world hostile to such things (touched on occasionally in season one, thrown to the wind in season two), anything to do with her cognitive evolution is scrapped in favour of ‘she just remembers it all now’, and there’s no arc to it. I invoked the concept of the Mary Sue in one episode post, and that is exactly the problem we end up with: a ‘perfect’ character who can do everything and anything and be ~the best~ at it, who is beloved and desired by all who meet her, except for her (mustache-twirling cliche villain) enemies, who fear her awesome powers. There is no personality in Echo, no conflict, no meaning. Wild as it may sound, you could actually remove her from the show completely and easily adapt the other characters (the ones who have personality, conflict, and meaning) to fill the space, and not only would it work, but the show would be infinitely the better for it. That’s the absolute opposite of what you want from a lead character.

The other BIG mistake in the casting for this show is Tahmoh Penikett as Paul Ballard, who plays his part with all the verve and charisma of a piece of wood with eyes drawn on (ever watch Ed, Edd, and Eddy? Plank has more dynamic personality than our boy Ballard). I’m not sure how much of it is Penikett’s fault - it has been many years since I watched Battlestar Galactica, and while I don’t remember being particular impressed by him, I don’t remember being frustrated by his inability to walk in a straight line without making it look weird, either - but whether he’s handicapped by his own acting non-prowess or not, he’s certainly fighting a losing battle with an unfocused mess of a character, and if the writing couldn’t decide what Ballard’s deal was to start with, I’m not shocked that Penikett had a hard time conveying it. Is Ballard a morally righteous hero (on a show with no moral centre for him to relate to)? Is he flawed and secretly-dark, and if he is, who recognises that, is it deliberate? Is he losing control, or is that just supposed to be ‘normal person’ behaviour? Again, who notices, does he know? How much of his interiority is a white-knight cliche, and how much is supposed to be genuine, and is any of it supposed to be subversive? I honestly can’t tell, one episode from the next. In season one, he’s garbage at his job, and some characters mention it, but then Ballard himself appears to be under the impression that he’s fighting the good fight and the tone of the show seems to agree with him rather than acknowledging his self-delusion. In season two, he joins the Dollhouse at the same time as openly declaring himself to be still against it, the plot conveniently pretends he never raped Mellie so that we can uphold the idea that he IS righteous, after all, and has no dark impulses, other characters at the Dollhouse put up with him being an obvious liability for no discernible reason, and then eventually he gets rendered brain-dead, reconstructed as a doll version of himself, and then dies a few episodes later anyway. Big whoop. It feels an awful lot like they had no long-term plan for what to do with the character, so they just focused on giving him a romance with Echo and then threw some contrived death stuff on top of that for flavour. Speaking of the romance thing: eek. Again, in season one it seemed they couldn’t decide whether or not his mounting obsession with his damsel-in-distress vision of Caroline was creepy as Hell (pro tip: it absolutely was), but then in season two it all became very simple: Ballard wants Echo, but doesn’t really believe she’s a real person (for some reason this is not a deal-breaker to her), and they dance around each other for a bit but never get together and somehow we’re supposed to interpret this as the development of a wonderful love story with a bittersweet tragic end when he dies, twice but also not really because then she downloads him into her brain anyway so they live happily ever after, sort of. It’s a fucking mess, y’all, and they don’t earn it, and the utter soup that is Ballard’s personality and motivation goes un-examined. The fact that season two tips heavily in favour of Echo/Ballard scenes is something very significantly to its detriment, because it’s the worst and most shakily-developed non-relationship of the series. Ok, that, and whatever the fuck Topher/Bennett was supposed to be.

Speaking of Topher...actually, I don’t have much to say about him. Breaking pattern with the rest of the characters, Topher shows no real sign of a personal story in season one, so it’s season two which attempts to give him some function as an individual outside of being the comic-relief tech guy. It’s not particularly successful, since the attempted character development revolves around 1) moral compunctions (which, as noted ad nauseum, this show left itself incapable of engaging with in any meaningful way back when it pretended sexual slavery was a morally grey issue), and 2) throwing a love interest at him: zero actual relationship-building ensues and it’s awkward and chemistry free and then she dies (so glad Bennett could exist to tick off a bunch of Whedon’s favourite suffering-woman tropes and then die for shock value, yay). At the end of the day, Topher was just a handful of affectations, fun to watch, but hardly amounting to more of a ‘whole person’ than the paper-thin personalities of the sex-fantasy cliches he imprinted into the dolls.

If Topher is the character who suffers most from a lack of development in season one, Boyd is the hardest hit in season two, easily. As Echo’s handler in season one, Boyd was pleasant, mild-mannered, protective, and he had an ethos which governed his choices (imagine such a thing!). His former career as a cop was referenced variously, and it seemed clear that we should expect one day to learn how he came to leave the force and wind up as a bodyguard working for a secret organisation. Season two? Forget about it. Forget about it because of the idiotic ‘twist’ that turned Boyd into Rossum’s cuckoo founder and thereby unraveled his entire personality as a sham in one fell swoop, obviously, but forget about his character having even the appearance of development in the meantime, also. Removing Boyd from his position as Echo’s handler was a grave error, as it downgraded his importance and effectively stifled the natural bond he had developed with his charge which represented a nice, uncomplicated character dynamic (one far more welcome than that clusterfuck replacement which was Ballard as Echo’s handler, euch). Additionally, this led to Boyd being largely backgrounded for the entirety of season two, given no meaningful stories to engage with, and certainly not expanded upon or explored as a character. As noted, any such expansion would have been irrelevant anyway once the dumbass ‘big reveal’ happened, but that’s all the more reason to bemoan the loss of Boyd’s character, which essentially occurred a full season before he actually donned his suicide vest and exploded in the Rossum building. If you have to dump a character just to service your twist, don’t. Dump the twist instead. Like pretty much every other actor on this show, Harry Lennix deserved better.

And then there’s DeWitt...I largely covered the DeWitt issue back in the episode posts, really; she starts out an intriguing character (and I credit Olivia Williams with much of this, she created dynamism out of an oft-lacking script, in every case), but season two really did a number on her when it came to leaping wildly about different plot ideas that jerked DeWitt’s characterisation from one extreme to another with very little connective tissue to sell the change. If Ballard was the character whom the narrative couldn’t decide how to handle in season one, DeWitt takes up that odious mantle in season two; is she losing her grasp? Is she playing the game? Is she an evil, pragmatic genius? Is she foolish and deluded by an idealism that plainly has no basis in reality? Is she an alcoholic who spontaneously gets her shit together after a couple of other characters tell her off? Damn, that was easy. As with Ballard, the problem is not just that the story seems to change tone and purpose for DeWitt’s character from one episode to the next; it also robs her of the opportunity to be defined through consistent interaction with others - she has no one to bounce off in a manner which would create a baseline for her behaviour and how it is outwardly perceived (and thus, how the audience is intended to interpret it).

I’m gonna talk about Sierra and Victor together, because frankly, that’s both the way the show packages them, and there’s not much to say outside of it. For the millionth time ever on this blog, I will complain that all shows ever would be improved by being ensembles; in this case, Sierra and Victor both would have benefited from a framework which allowed either one of them to take greater precedence more often, instead of having their own narratives distilled down to a single Personal Episode each in season two. I do enjoy both, and their relationship has legitimate chemistry and charm while also following a sensible plot concept through - the idea that strong emotional connections and bonds can transcend the mind wipe. Unfortunately, the show has little functional purpose for either character outside of their relationship, to the extent that it even sidelines them almost entirely in the climax of the series (pre-flashforward). Victor/Anthony is given the least plot purpose in the show proper, which is just a criminal misuse of Enver Gjokaj - Anthony is a soldier and that’s essentially his entire personality right there, and the only thing that gives them an excuse to make him do Manly Fighter Stuff in the latter stages of season two. Sierra/Priya gets more to do, but the bad news is, it’s all about being raped, and that’s her whole story - horrible possessive misogynists abusing her so that she can embody Whedon’s favourite Broken Bird trope, with the added misfortune of changing the nature of her relationship with Victor to make it a little bit about him ‘rescuing’ her with the love of a good man. Both of these actors are so good, and their characters had such potential, I can’t believe the show fucked around and wasted them like it did.

Ok, one more before I go. I know he was never a member of the central cast, but we gotta talk about Laurence Dominic, because he was deceptively essential to the show, important to what made it work for the brief time when it could be said to work, and he was altogether the best character on the show insofar as he was the most cohesive, consistent, and logical player in the piece. I said as much when he made his welcome return in ‘The Attic’ (the best episode of season two...coincidence?), and as I noted then, it may be that Dominic’s early exit from the show was to his benefit in that he avoided being jostled across season two having all semblance of coherence torn to pieces along the way. I’m fairly certain the writer’s had no idea how valuable Dominic was to the story when they axed him (not least because they clearly had no idea how important it is to create some kind of moral framework to support a story that is inherently morally dubious), but consider the most obvious changes to the show format and the other character’s stories once Dominic was out of the picture: Boyd takes over as Head of Security, to his detriment as a character, and to the detriment of his relationship with Echo, leaving her wasting time with that dolt Ballard instead and putting audiences everywhere to sleep. And DeWitt? DeWitt loses her sounding board, the right-hand man who - for most of the first season - anchored her character by giving her someone to talk and plot and, at times, disagree with, creating that behavioural baseline that she lacked when she was being dragged all over season two. Dominic’s role was a structural pillar on the show, he held the roof up so that the rest of the characters could interact and interrelate - with each other, and with him - he had distinct relationship dynamics with pretty much all of them - and he was exactly the kind of character that you want around being a stable, unobtrusive presence. They could even have kept the idea of him being an NSA spy, just keep him working undercover, the audience knows the truth but the other characters don’t, it creates tension! Sure, it’d probably mean letting Ivy be sent to the attic under false charges, and that wouldn’t help this show’s abysmal abuse-of-women record, but considering the show did nothing of consequence with Ivy in the end anyway and she just existed to be belittled by Topher while he sent her to fetch him snacks...yeah, anyway. I could talk a lot about why Dominic was the best character on this stinking show, but it’s ultimately beside the point: the point is that nothing in this show really worked, and that had a lot to do with major conceptual issues (moral grounding is not optional! Misogyny is not tasty plot flavouring! Joss Whedon is an abomination!), and keeping Dominic around long-term would no more save the show than if Eliza Dushku possessed a modicum of acting range. It’s frustrating because there are so many good pieces there, excellent actors, intriguing character set-ups, fantastic plot possibilities, and heady existential implications. It’s just that some moron decided the best thing to do with that would be to play nasty sexual wish-fulfillment games and leave the rest to rot. I’m pretty sure the version of this show I enjoyed once was largely the version I made in my head, because the reality is a wasteful disaster. And misogynistic as Hell, too. We, the viewers, deserved better.

#Dollhouse #full series review #Bechdel Test #female representation

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