In Between Days: Hiro Nakamura, Veronica Mars, Mal Reynolds, Static
Between the weather and things commanding my attention at home, I find I'm not writing much this week, let alone blogging. Still, after the feverish pace of the preceding few weeks, I think I can forgive myself letting more immediate concerns eat up my attention.
The other day, I made mention of four characters -- Hiro Nakamura (from the late TV show Heroes); Veronica Mars (from the TV show Veronica Mars); Malcolm Reynolds (from the TV show Firefly and the movie Serenity, along with a slew of comic books); and Virgil Ovid Hawkins, aka Static (from Milestone Comics, then later the cartoon Static Shock, and then more-recently DC Comics.
These four characters struck me as good examples of heroes -- and before anyone starts with me, I completely consider Veronica Mars and Mal Reynolds as heroes, despite their frequent ethical greyness -- who have the distinction of being original contemporary characters who, one way or the other, manage to hang on in some corners of the popular consciousness despite cancellations, ratings, etc. These are characters that persist when the corporate metrics that decide the fates of TV shows and comic books tell us their time is done. Never the cultural heavy hitters, like Buffy Summers or Harry Potter, they nonetheless dwell on that odd tier of fictional characters that hold some sway, even when their stories don't replicate the way others' do. The culture's not quite done with them, yet.
This makes puts them in the odd company of characters who flared but never quite disappeared: Will Eisner's The Spirit has a loyal following, to this day, but attempts to replicate and fan that passion in comics and film have never quite worked. Resurrections of the Doom Patrol have been interesting, even enjoyable, but have never quite achieved the vivid brilliance of the original. Diana Rigg walked away from The Avengers TV show for personal reasons, leaving fans of her character, Emma Peel, still wanting more, but replacement character Tara King wasn't as popular, nor was Uma Thurman's portrayal in the more-recent film well-received. But they all have their devotees, even still, and there's always someone who loves them enough to give them another go.
Reynolds and the crew of Serenity, from Firefly, are probably the most enduring of this bunch. The rag-tag pirates-turned-reluctant-heroes had generated enough devotion in a small-but-loyal audience to get a film made, which didn't set the box office on fire. But their adventures still continue, in the form of comic books, mostly overseen by creator Joss Whedon and others of the original writers. And for my part, while I enjoyed a lot about the movie, I felt it tied up loose ends from the beginning of the story, which is not the same thing as finishing the story. Not at all. Mal, particularly, is still at the beginning of his arc: from rebel soldier to petty mercenary to becoming a man worthy of becoming a hero: a man who risks everything to reveal a government's atrocities. "If you can't do something smart," says his crew member, Jayne Cobb, "do something right." Reynolds takes the stand, and wins, at enormous cost, but there's always been a sense that there's more in store for him. Having seen what he becomes, we never really see what that man does. I'm of the opinion that ultimately, he needs to finish the job that he started as a soldier, but there are other opinions. But wherever one sees that story going, there's always a sense that there should be more. The story has a middle, but as of yet, no ending. Not a satisfying one. In that, he's similar to Mars.
Veronica Mars, despite excellent writing and acting, suffered mightily in the ratings, and was canceled in its third season, despite an abortive effort by the show's creators to "fast-forward" the character a few years from college to being a full-fledged FBI agent. Still, the show was something more than merely a critical darling. There was something compelling about the character, between Kristen Bell's performance and Rob Thomas' dialog, and the fact that she was such an unconventional female character -- an obvious descendant of Nancy Drew, yes, but without the obligatory sweetness or innocence. Veronica Mars, the character, was smart, capable and willing to use any means at her disposal -- no matter how ethically dubious -- to achieve her goals, Veronica Mars was a show that had a certain power about it, and like the crew of Serenity, her story seems still somehow unfinished, and that's an itch that scratches a bit, especially when both Thomas and Bell instigate hope for an eventual movie on Twitter, or even when there's talk of a possible comic book. There's still some life left in that story, but Lord only knows when and if there will ever be enough will to push it forward again.
It's possible, though. Stories don't die that easily. For instance, when the DC Comics imprint Milestone Comics -- a collaboration by several African-American artists, most notably Dwayne McDuffy -- went under, McDuffy and DC were able to migrate those characters, including Static, into the DC Universe. Static, who is perhaps most famous for his cartoon, Static Shock, seems irrepressible. Recently, he's been a member of the Teen Titans, and DC seems to be rumbling that he's bound for his own solo title again, soon. In a market which has -- to put it as understatedly as possible -- not been kind to African-American characters, let alone positive, nonstereotypical portrayals, Static's persistence is a positive sign. (But don't get too comfortable, as DC Comics is already delaying new issues of Batwoman, which may spell trouble for other new comics, especially ones with minority protagonists. Cough. Ryan Choi. Cough.)
Perhaps the most tragic out of this quintet of shoulda-been, coulda-been, may-still-yet-be greats is Hiro Nakamura, the perpetually upbeat and sometimes woefully naive teleporter from Heroes. the character, portrayed by Masi Oka, was the immediate standout on a show that burst onto the scene and grabbed the public's consciousness. Only the grim-and-gritty Noah Bennett, portrayed by Jack Coleman, rivaled Hiro for affection, but the difference was always clear: Bennett, for all of his awesomeness, was never a hero, and Hiro very much wanted to be one, and indeed, for all of us comic book world-view, he had about clearest view of right and wrong of anyone on the show. Alas, as the writing on the show began to falter, the character was largely relegated to comic relief, and ceased to be relevant. Which was a shame, because he had so much potential, and for a brief moment, he was something we hadn't really seen on TV before: A non-American character on mainstream TV who was both geeky and lovable, but also brave and determined, who embraced heroism without irony or self-consciousness. It was a breath of air, before it all went wrong. Still, Heroes creator Tim Kring keeps talking about bringing the story back in some form, so who knows? Maybe there's still time to get Nakamura right, before he disappears forever into purgatory.
The other day, I made mention of four characters -- Hiro Nakamura (from the late TV show Heroes); Veronica Mars (from the TV show Veronica Mars); Malcolm Reynolds (from the TV show Firefly and the movie Serenity, along with a slew of comic books); and Virgil Ovid Hawkins, aka Static (from Milestone Comics, then later the cartoon Static Shock, and then more-recently DC Comics.
These four characters struck me as good examples of heroes -- and before anyone starts with me, I completely consider Veronica Mars and Mal Reynolds as heroes, despite their frequent ethical greyness -- who have the distinction of being original contemporary characters who, one way or the other, manage to hang on in some corners of the popular consciousness despite cancellations, ratings, etc. These are characters that persist when the corporate metrics that decide the fates of TV shows and comic books tell us their time is done. Never the cultural heavy hitters, like Buffy Summers or Harry Potter, they nonetheless dwell on that odd tier of fictional characters that hold some sway, even when their stories don't replicate the way others' do. The culture's not quite done with them, yet.
This makes puts them in the odd company of characters who flared but never quite disappeared: Will Eisner's The Spirit has a loyal following, to this day, but attempts to replicate and fan that passion in comics and film have never quite worked. Resurrections of the Doom Patrol have been interesting, even enjoyable, but have never quite achieved the vivid brilliance of the original. Diana Rigg walked away from The Avengers TV show for personal reasons, leaving fans of her character, Emma Peel, still wanting more, but replacement character Tara King wasn't as popular, nor was Uma Thurman's portrayal in the more-recent film well-received. But they all have their devotees, even still, and there's always someone who loves them enough to give them another go.
Reynolds and the crew of Serenity, from Firefly, are probably the most enduring of this bunch. The rag-tag pirates-turned-reluctant-heroes had generated enough devotion in a small-but-loyal audience to get a film made, which didn't set the box office on fire. But their adventures still continue, in the form of comic books, mostly overseen by creator Joss Whedon and others of the original writers. And for my part, while I enjoyed a lot about the movie, I felt it tied up loose ends from the beginning of the story, which is not the same thing as finishing the story. Not at all. Mal, particularly, is still at the beginning of his arc: from rebel soldier to petty mercenary to becoming a man worthy of becoming a hero: a man who risks everything to reveal a government's atrocities. "If you can't do something smart," says his crew member, Jayne Cobb, "do something right." Reynolds takes the stand, and wins, at enormous cost, but there's always been a sense that there's more in store for him. Having seen what he becomes, we never really see what that man does. I'm of the opinion that ultimately, he needs to finish the job that he started as a soldier, but there are other opinions. But wherever one sees that story going, there's always a sense that there should be more. The story has a middle, but as of yet, no ending. Not a satisfying one. In that, he's similar to Mars.
Veronica Mars, despite excellent writing and acting, suffered mightily in the ratings, and was canceled in its third season, despite an abortive effort by the show's creators to "fast-forward" the character a few years from college to being a full-fledged FBI agent. Still, the show was something more than merely a critical darling. There was something compelling about the character, between Kristen Bell's performance and Rob Thomas' dialog, and the fact that she was such an unconventional female character -- an obvious descendant of Nancy Drew, yes, but without the obligatory sweetness or innocence. Veronica Mars, the character, was smart, capable and willing to use any means at her disposal -- no matter how ethically dubious -- to achieve her goals, Veronica Mars was a show that had a certain power about it, and like the crew of Serenity, her story seems still somehow unfinished, and that's an itch that scratches a bit, especially when both Thomas and Bell instigate hope for an eventual movie on Twitter, or even when there's talk of a possible comic book. There's still some life left in that story, but Lord only knows when and if there will ever be enough will to push it forward again.
It's possible, though. Stories don't die that easily. For instance, when the DC Comics imprint Milestone Comics -- a collaboration by several African-American artists, most notably Dwayne McDuffy -- went under, McDuffy and DC were able to migrate those characters, including Static, into the DC Universe. Static, who is perhaps most famous for his cartoon, Static Shock, seems irrepressible. Recently, he's been a member of the Teen Titans, and DC seems to be rumbling that he's bound for his own solo title again, soon. In a market which has -- to put it as understatedly as possible -- not been kind to African-American characters, let alone positive, nonstereotypical portrayals, Static's persistence is a positive sign. (But don't get too comfortable, as DC Comics is already delaying new issues of Batwoman, which may spell trouble for other new comics, especially ones with minority protagonists. Cough. Ryan Choi. Cough.)
Perhaps the most tragic out of this quintet of shoulda-been, coulda-been, may-still-yet-be greats is Hiro Nakamura, the perpetually upbeat and sometimes woefully naive teleporter from Heroes. the character, portrayed by Masi Oka, was the immediate standout on a show that burst onto the scene and grabbed the public's consciousness. Only the grim-and-gritty Noah Bennett, portrayed by Jack Coleman, rivaled Hiro for affection, but the difference was always clear: Bennett, for all of his awesomeness, was never a hero, and Hiro very much wanted to be one, and indeed, for all of us comic book world-view, he had about clearest view of right and wrong of anyone on the show. Alas, as the writing on the show began to falter, the character was largely relegated to comic relief, and ceased to be relevant. Which was a shame, because he had so much potential, and for a brief moment, he was something we hadn't really seen on TV before: A non-American character on mainstream TV who was both geeky and lovable, but also brave and determined, who embraced heroism without irony or self-consciousness. It was a breath of air, before it all went wrong. Still, Heroes creator Tim Kring keeps talking about bringing the story back in some form, so who knows? Maybe there's still time to get Nakamura right, before he disappears forever into purgatory.
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