Best. Ship. Ever. (Essay/Meta)

[workerbee73.livejournal.com]

This is based on the very first thing I ever wrote for LJ, for a SASA essay contest last summer to describe why our pilots are the best ship ever.  As we’re counting down the days to the rewatch, it seemed very appropriate, so I dusted it off and added a bit and even threw in some of my patented meta-poetry-fic ™ (had to make sure I still had the chops before the episode reviews begin).

 

So let’s take a moment and remember why we love those kids so darn much. : )

 

"This seems familiar."

I distinctly remember the moment I fell in love with this ship:   That (first) brig scene.  It was December 2006, and I had picked up a copy of the miniseries on a lark after reading (yet another) glowing review of that TV show with the goofy name.  So there I was, watching this new sci-fi show that didn't look much like sci-fi (it felt more like a cross between The Hunt for Red October and The West Wing set in space with robots), and so far it was pretty good.  I liked the set up, I liked the people, and I even liked that cigar-chomping broad who punched the old guy.  It seemed like all the ingredients were there for a good character drama.

Then Lee Adama and Kara Thrace laid eyes on each other in that brig.  The room seemed to shrink and spin, and all I could focus on were these two beautiful, extremely complicated individuals.  Within ten seconds, I could tell that these two had volumes of history between them, and that we were walking right into the middle of their story.  The tension jumped out of the damn TV screen and grabbed me.  I can't ever remember being so riveted just by watching two people trade insults and wisecracks.

And the chemistry.  My gods, the chemistry.  It rolled off both of them in waves.  They could have steamed wallpaper off the walls.  I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until afterwards.  I couldn't figure out if they wanted to hug each other or hit each other or shag like rabbits (probably a combo of all three).  All I can remember thinking was:  Who are these people?  What happened between them?  Why are they not together? And, will they ever please just make out?  (Thank God for Eye of Jupiter.)  Add three parts raw animal tension to one part mysterious and complicated past, dash in a bit of angst, and I was left one thoroughly intrigued customer.

But what makes our lovely pilots the Best Ship Ever?

 

I would argue that what makes this ship so special is precisely what makes it un-familiar.  K/L take traditional romantic conventions and turn them all upside down-- all while striking an emotional chord that deeply resonates with the viewer.  This essay will attempt to explain why our favorite pilots are the Best Ship Ever ("BSE") by focusing on how they consistently defy traditional romantic expectations.  To reverse the quote of a much wiser BSG critic--- It's everything you never thought you wanted in the best possible way.

1.  Everybody's Changing

Gender role reversal probably gets our ship the most critical attention, and rightly so.  Role reversal and confounded expectations have become the calling cards of BSG.  These things defy romantic conventions as well as TV storytelling in general.  It's not only a ballsy way to set up a romantic relationship, it's also very honest.  I mean, who in real life ever completely fits a traditional gender stereotype?

Take our girl Starbuck.  She's a kick-ass combat fighter, she reacts on instinct and usually resorts to force as the first way to solve a problem.  She's a take-charge kind of girl.  (And moreover, 9 times out of 10, she should be in charge.)  All typical "alpha male" traits.  But what I love even more is they way she undermines the classic madonna/whore dichotomy.  She curses and smokes, she makes bad decisions about who she sleeps with, she shuts down emotionally instead of opening up, and oh boy, does she enjoy sex.  And yet, she's our heroine.  These are the traits that make her so identifiable for me.  She is truly and utterly flawed but all the more beautiful for it.

And what about our boy Lee?  He's the reluctant warrior, the cerebral one, the one more given to emotion, and the one who's controlled so deeply by his conscience.  I think the most wonderful thing about Lee's characterization is that he can do all that alpha male stuff if he needs to, but that's not who he is.  That's not his highest and best use.  He can step up and be a kick-ass, ball-busting interim President, but he can also sit back and play Princess Leia to Starbuck's Han Solo (hey, Jamie said it first).  I think my complete and utter devotion for Lee solidified when I read somewhere that RDM said that the character is never so happy as when he's in the kitchen cooking.  I don't know why, but something about that was completely endearing and more than a little bit... hot.

Examples:
 
(1)  Kara saves Lee at the battle at the end of the miniseries. 

“You are beyond insane!!”

 

She is, but it won’t stop her.  She fights, she fraks, she lashes out on instinct, but when it matters—when it matters, she’s right there. No holes barred. Nothing held back. Not until it’s over. Not until he’s safe.

 

 (2)  The infamous punch/punch back.  (Anyone still think we’re playing by the old gender rules?)

 

This fight’s been building since the day they met. Since she promised to marry his brother when she should have been promised only to him. Since he walked into her life with that pretentious-ass smirk and holier-than-thou attitude. Since he took up residence in her thoughts and dreams and never left.

 

So she punches. And he punches back.

2.  We used to be friends.  A long time ago.

We don't know much about their history-- but we know they have it.  In most traditional boy-meets-girl stories, the initial meeting is the beginning of the love story as well.  Fictional couples don't often have history, and if they do, it's never messy.  It might have been that boy and girl knew each other growing up and haven't seen each other in several years.  When they finally meet again, he notices how beautiful she is, she notices how handsome and chivalrous he is, and WHAM!--instant true love.

An what about our pilots?  Oh yeah, they've got some history.  They've got some "you're my brother's fiancée but I've always been inexplicably attracted to you even though and I know it's so wrong and it doesn't help that you made a decision that inadvertently led to my brother's untimely demise and that I compete with you for my father's affections and that the world just ended, but still-- I think I love you" kind of history.  RDM & Co. were downright reckless with this particular romantic faux pas.  Their history is messy and tragic.  And it seems insurmountable.  How do you overcome that?  How can you get past it?

And yet, I really dig the narrative corner K/L have gotten themselves into.  Not only does it add to the delicious angst, it also makes their relationship real in a way few other dramatized relationships ever are.  Fictional couples usually get neat little endings.  They get closure.  They don't circle each other for years, making the same mistakes.  They are smart enough to know that sometimes the best thing to do is just walk away.  But our pilots can't.  They don't want to.  This level of emotional honesty really breaks through to the viewer.  Who hasn't been there before?  Who can't sympathize with them at some point?

Examples:

(a)  The first brig scene. 

 

Gods, she was so beautiful. He couldn't help it. Those were the first thoughts that entered his mind. Beautiful and fierce and predatory. Sheathed claws, but no less dangerous. For him, at least.
 

Then the words began to pour out. The opening line. The witty banter. Circling, watching, testing for weaknesses.  It had always been their way.

"So how long's it been?"

"Two years."

Two years, three months, eighteen hours, thirty-six minutes. Not that he'd been counting.

(b)  Unfinished Business. 

 

"So it was your idea?" 

It was. The only idea that ever made sense. When everything you love breaks or dies or becomes cursed by the gods—you can’t risk spreading that kind of cancer, not when it really counts. He’s crushed, destroyed. Exteriors melted and souls were bared only to be slaughtered in the bright light of day.  One more desertion. Add it to the list.

 

How much bad history can you take before it breaks you? How many mistakes before you run out of second chances?

 

 

3.  All the wrong reasons.

Oh, the angst.  Love it.  LOVE IT.   Forbidden love. Falling for the wrong person.  The one person on earth you shouldn't want but secretly crave.  The relationship that absolutely guarantees to frak up your life and make all your friends hate you for a while.  This is the whirlwind that is Lee and Kara.

Although the "wrong person" syndrome is not new in romantic stories, K/L puts a different spin on things.  Instead of a detour on the path to true love, the "wrong person" syndrome is actually the relationship you should be rooting for.  ("If you're not shipping Lee and Kara, you haven't been paying attention.")  On paper, these two seem so wrong for each other.  But then you put them together—whether as buddycops or sparring partners or defenders of the fleet or best friends—and you wonder why you ever thought that in first place...

Examples:
 
(a)  Makeout scene in EOJ. 

 

Lust, want, need, desire, guilt—the emotions weave together as beautifully as arms and lips and shared breath. But reality isn’t perfect, and futures aren’t always bright and shiny. And sometimes the timing really and truly does suck. They know the way forward, but it feels too difficult to act. Conscience meets conviction and where does that leave us? Trapped.

 

(But oh gods it’s seductive to watch. They dance so well together.)

 

(b)  Under the wing in Maelstrom. 

 

He’s happy, and she’s happy for him. Truly, she is. If only she weren’t breaking so much inside. Her smile is beautiful precisely because of the extra effort it requires. This is moving on, this is letting go. This is growing up. And yet for all that maturity, for all that support and strength and stiff upper lip, there’s a moment—just the tinest moment—where her faces breaks. And so does his. Shatters into a thousand pieces as they remember that the script they’re reading is not the one they meant to choose. But time's running out. So actions have to speak where the words can’t. Whatever it takes. 

 

 

4.  The best of you.

Even with all the angst, the bad history, and the gender role murkiness, these two still complete each other.  Yes, they can be completely destructive forces, but they also bring out the best of each other.  They push each other like no one else can.  Since the end of the worlds, their relationship has come the closest to breaking down their emotional barriers and making them open up (albeit sometimes with disastrous results).  Yet somehow, when they're together, they seem invincible.  It's only when they're apart that you remember they're mortals.  Together, they become something greater than themselves, something mythical:  Starbuck and Apollo.

Examples:

(a)  The second brig scene. 

 

He makes a choice no one understands.  She comes back with a story no one believes.  Only they can give each other the strength to get through what's to come.  A beautiful moment, a beautiful kiss, and a whispered "I believe you."  It's the first time they both tap into the power of their connection in such a mature, unconditional way.

 

(b) The memorial hall scene in Islanded. 

 

“I don’t care.”

 

It doesn't matter. None of it. The implosion of logic and emotion, the conflagration of their passion and despair. The hurt, the pain. The other spouses, the false starts. None of that matters anymore. All that matters is this: His fingertips on her skin. Both of them still being here, alive, together—surmounting impossible odds and mathematical impossibilities. Their eyes meeting and holding. Giving love and receiving it. There is no Apollo, there is no Starbuck. Those masks are gone; the characters they represent are dead. It's just them, again. As it was always meant to be. 

5.  You can't always get what you want.

Sometimes unrequited (or unfulfilled) love is the best kind.  It perfect in a way because it's filled with the promise of what could be.  If only.  What might have been.  
 
The ending was a bitter and disappointing moment for our pilots (and their fans). I don’t need to recount the wounds here. But suffice it to say that I refuse to believe that 2-hour detour that disregarded plot threads, character growth, and the show’s mythology and conscience is the final word where our kids are concerned. The sum of the parts is greater than the hastily constructed coda tagged on at the very end.  This relationship is epic, it is remarkable, and it is something we are unlikely to ever see again. And for that reason, it is worth watching (and re-watching) this story.

****************************** 

So there it is.  Star-crossed love dressed in the trappings of a sparse, naturalistic sci-fi drama.  A complex web of love, passion, friendship, pain, desire and heartache.  Emotional honesty on a level we've rarely (if ever) seen before on TV.  That's why we're here. 

Yin and Yang. 
Oreos and milk. 
Sex and cigarettes. 
Starbuck and Apollo.

Some things just go together, you know.

Comments

[rdave1.livejournal.com]

OK with all my ramblings I forgot to mention some of the other things I wanted to say.

The role reversal was very much there in the show. Not just with L/K but other characters too. This is probably one of the only shows that has given women more power then men, their decisions were what counted. Lee and Kara role reversals were unique. He was her CAG but she was more ballsy. She did all the stuff that you would expect him to do for showing off reasons. Even their emotional roles were reversed. Kara closed off her emotions and Lee wore his on his sleeve. But the one thing I liked about their emotional role reversals is that they were ever changing. If Kara was closed off, Lee showed emotion and if he was being cold she was showing emotion. They balanced each other out in every way.

They used to be friends and part of that will always remain. No matter what happened, they knew the other would be there watching their back. Even after the revelation about Zak, Lee couldn't turn away from her. Our pilots did get past all the history, hurt and ghosts right before the end but...

To each other they were the forbidden fruit. Something that they were never supposed to have but how can you get rid of something that is part of your soul, how can you take a piece of you out that you didn't know existed until they were standing right in front of you. (That almost sounded as poetic, not good as your though. They bought out the best and worst in each other sometimes. But isn't that what a real relationship is, you fight but you always come back. Your other half brings out your best and worst but by bringing your worst they are trying to fix it or make it better. How does this person love is measured by how they stick by you when your worst is at its best, when they don't care even if they don't have all the answers. They take you for who you are no matter what it takes.

Sometimes we don't get closure but people decide to be stupid but that's why we have rewatch and happy pilot moments to remember.

[workerbee73.livejournal.com]

That's such a great point about them balancing each other. And daybreak and setivalen put it beautifully upstream when they talk about how similar Lee and Kara are, for all their differences.

Yes. The best and the worst indeed. They make each other live lives in full blown technicolor-- bringing out all the memotions they normally shove aside. And bringing out the best so much more often.

Vive la rewatch!!

[rdave1.livejournal.com]

Those two really are two sides of the same coin. They always did bring out the best in each other even when they were picking fights.:)

Vive la rewatch!!