Babylon 5: An Overview

Originally published February 6, 2012, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1264

“It’s not going to be as good.”

That’s what I heard fans muttering when word broke of the syndication deal that would provide Babylon 5 with a regular slot on TNT, aired five times a week in a time slot that—unlike in many cities—wasn’t at such a hideous hour of the morning that viewing it required either a VCR or a healthy shot of No-Doze.

B5 has been somewhat unique in television history: An ongoing novel by J. Michael Straczynski (usually called “Joe”; indeed, fake “pals” and “intimate friends” of Joe have been weeded out by the switchboard at Babylonian Productions when they’ve called up and asked to speak to Michael or—even better—their good friend Mike), B5 was a tough sell from the get-go. Not only did fans have to convince potential converts to put aside their Star Trek prejudices, and not only did the potential converts have to find the damned show, but then they had to commit to watching several episodes just to get a feel for the series.

Thanks to the perpetually dropped clues that never paid off in the same episode, the stockpiling of hints, the mysteries wrapped in enigmas, and dialogue so impenetrable that Jason Vorhees couldn’t hack his way through it, becoming involved in Babylon 5‘s acclaimed arc was a demanding proposition. Fans had to be willing to give more commitment to a TV show than Larry King gives to the average marriage. In this day and age where channel surfing is the norm, that’s asking a lot.

Yet somehow, through sheer force of will by both creators and fans, Babylon 5 survived challenge after challenge to its very existence and managed to make it to a fifth season on TNT. The first four seasons are stripped into syndication at 7 p.m. EST, and new episodes have begun airing probably by the time you read this. Furthermore, the series was launched with a two hour prequel, In the Beginning, which details the circumstances involving some of the major backstories of the series including the Earth/Minbari war (or, as an actress is caught saying in one of the outtake reels, the Earth/Minibar war).

Fans seemed perfectly prepared to watch the series from the beginning, taking the opportunity to tape it if they hadn’t already. They were eagerly anticipating being able to see the entire tapestry from the beginning, with all the apparently throwaway comments or seemingly random developments that actually related to the overall thrust of the story.

In the relaunch of the series, we also have the opportunity to reevaluate to the show in its developmental stages. Seeing the characterizations of the war-mongering and belligerent Ambassador G’Kar (Andreas Katsulas) and the broken down pathos of Ambassador Londo Mollari (Peter Jurasik) for instance, now is fraught with poignancy and irony when one considers the directions that their respective character arcs took them.

We notice redesigns and adjustments on alien make-up (most conspicuously on Ambassador Delenn (Mira Furlan), and come to realize that some characters deserved to disappear from the series if, for no other reason, than that they looked stupid from the get-go and never stopped looking stupid (a puppet-like alien who bore a resemblance to a giant preying mantis comes to mind).

We also have the opportunity to reassess Michael O’Hare’s performance as Commander Jeffrey Sinclair. I admit that I was underwhelmed when I first saw Sinclair in action; he reminded me of nothing so much as one of the marionette performers in Fireball XL-5. But I got used to him as the season progressed and now, in watching his work from the beginning, his body of work seems far more impressive. Sinclair comes across as stately, thoughtful and cerebral. More comfortable and confident in his role of diplomat than his successor, Sheridan (Bruce Boxleitner). Plus the ghosts that haunt Sinclair, the “hole in his mind” as is mentioned in the pilot film, are more understandable since we not only know all the subsequent developments, but—for those who weren’t watching the series in the first place—much of it is laid out up front in In the Beginning.

Indeed, for many fans, that seems to be the rub.

The general thought was that the syndication of the series—and the attendant publicity, something that was never forthcoming during the original run—would result in new viewers for the series. As opposed to waiting weeks for plot threads to unfold, the story would now reveal itself within days. Plus anyone watching the prequel would know a number of the key mysteries which were not explained until late into the first season or even the second. The reason for the Minbari surrender during the Earth/Minbari war, the threat of the upcoming Shadow war, the real reason as to why Delenn was on the station—many of the secrets fans waited weeks, even years to learn were now being handed up front to newcomers.

It almost seemed like cheating. As if to really enjoy Babylon 5, one had to be willing to watch the series for lengthy periods of time in confusion and bewilderment, else it didn’t really count. Kind of like whether one is “more Jewish” if one keeps milk and meat plates separate; knowing what was going on with B5 at the very start of the series just didn’t seem kosher somehow.

If anything, long-time fans felt sorry for newcomers. If they watched In the Beginning (which apparently they did, in considerable numbers) Babylon 5 would lose what many considered to be its greatest draw: the mystery. The chance to try and figure things out or be surprised. In the pilot film, The Gathering, Jeffrey Sinclair describes the climax of the famed “Battle of the Line,” the last battle of the Earth/Minbari war. He speaks of how, in a last desperate gesture, he set his fighter barreling towards a Minbari cruiser—and the next thing he knew, it was twenty-four hours later and he had no recollection of the intervening time. In the original airing, the viewers were as clueless as Sinclair. This time around, anyone who watched Beginning knew exactly what had happened to Sinclair, and why.

The question to be considered is: Does that automatically mean that watching B5 is less of an experience for newbies?

I don’t think so. Actually, I think it’s superior. I wish they could’ve done it this way the first time.

First, with all deference to the notion that we were watching a novel-for-television, let’s face it: How often do you go into a novel with practically no idea of what it’s about? Between word of mouth, reviews, and promo copy on the dust jacket, you usually have some idea of what the overall thrust of the book is. With B5, beyond the fact that it was essentially “Rick’s Place” in space, an orbiting Casablanca, the audience went in not knowing much of anything. For many would-be viewers, it was the equivalent of being a child in the backseat of a car who has no clue as to the whereabouts or nature of the destination, demanding over and over, “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” And Joe would be the irritated father in the front seat saying, “No! We’re not there yet! While we’re getting there, try and see how many different license plates you can spot!” And as it turns out, all those license plates would have been relevant, but the temptation was to say, “The heck with this,” and leap out of the car en route.

With the current way that it’s being done, the annoyance factor is gone. The initial sense of aimlessness, the concern that none of these vague hints was ever going to pay off, never materialize. Fear of perpetual obtuseness shouldn’t be mandatory for watching a television show. It’s a more relaxed and enjoyable experience.

“But isn’t there now a lack of suspense?” many will ask. Wasn’t the entire draw of the series its mystery? With the key secrets revealed, how can there be any suspense?

Well, there is, but it’s a different kind of suspense. It’s soap opera suspense, which is fairly appropriate since it’s now a daily drama rather than a weekly series.

In the average soap opera, secrets held by various characters which are unknown to the viewer are the more boring variety of suspense-generators. Soap operas function on the rumor-mill theory of suspense, and since human beings eat, sleep and breathe rumors, it’s a formula that has functioned extraordinarily well. For on soap operas—and, this time around, on Babylon 5—key secrets are known by the audience. They are not, however, known to the characters, and that is where the suspense comes in. For instance, let’s say that a soap character named Lance is married to Rosa. Rosa has an affair with Barry. This fact is not hidden from the audience. Viewers don’t wonder if Rosa had an affair or who it was with. In fact, the audience was probably present when the affair was consummated.

Knowledge, however, is very empowering. There’s nothing greater than feeling as if you are one step ahead of the characters, particularly when dealing with the daily soap opera format.

Because what happens in the above scenario is that the viewer tunes in every day, not to find out who Rosa had an affair with, but instead to learn what will happen when Lance learns of the affair—as he inevitably will. And Lance is usually the last to know. What will happen before that is that every single person in town except Lance learns that Rosa has been catting around. The husband, as they say, is always the last to know. So not only does the suspense build as we wait to see Lance’s reaction to the news, but to his inevitable subsequent discovery that everyone else in town knows already. Will he feel used? Betrayed? Angry? Will he kill someone as a result? Will he kill Rosa? Kill himself? The viewer has the opportunity to conjure up all sorts of scenarios because he has a foundation upon which to build.

Audiences like being in control. The initial run of B5 required that the viewer turn himself completely over to Joe Straczynski. This time, although Joe is naturally still in command, the viewer has some control of the situation. Granted, it’s control that was ceded by Joe in the first place, but it was given over nonetheless.

And why not? Isn’t that what many audiences want nowadays? Isn’t that, after all, part of what has made interactive computer games so popular? They’re interactive stories wherein the audience has control over the situation, taking the narrative where he wants it to go. For some people, novels are simply too regimented. Why should they let the author steer the boat when they themselves might have a better idea? Audiences control their computer games, readers control—to some measure—what goes on in comic books (and if you disagree, you need look no further than the demise of the spider-clone due almost entirely to massive fan rejection of the concept). And, as of this point, although Joe remains the storyteller, fans can comfortably exert some empowering “control” over Babylon 5 simply by dint of the fact that they know what’s going on with the story and Sinclair et al don’t.

To that end, Joe Straczynski—who wound up filming the series-concluding episode of B5 as part of season 4, although it now won’t air until season 5—may want to consider a totally different tack with his follow-up series, Crusade. He might actually want to run the last episode as the pilot, and then have everything else build backwards towards it. Kind of like a Harold Pinter play, or an episode of Seinfeld. Maybe we should do it with all films and television series coming out nowadays. After all, the biggest film in theaters right now has an ending that’s been known to audiences for over eighty years, namely, the ship sinks.

Guess Joe wasted his time on Murder She Wrote. He should really have been writing episodes of Columbo.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)