Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Captain Malcolm Reynolds—Choosing the Losing Side Doesn’t Make it the Wrong One

**Due to recent misinterpretations of some one post from this blog, a disclaimer is now apparently necessary.  If this is your first visit to The Scratched Camera, please read the introductory post and discover, for yourself, that every typed word that follows is unabashedly my opinion and mine alone.  In said introductory post, which, shockingly, I did not simply type up for my own good health, I state that we all read events and characters with our own baggage in mind; no one observes with a perfectly clear lens—hence the name The Scratched Camera.  Therefore, it is completely your will to disagree with any material that follows, just as it is my will to agree and advocate for what is mine.**  ~End, irritating obligatory disclaimer~

Captain Malcolm Reynolds—Choosing the Losing Side Doesn’t Make it the Wrong One

            On the surface, the audience should not like Captain Reynolds.  He’s surly, bitter and angry for the majority of time.  When he isn’t too busy calling Inara a whore, he’s insisting that Simon and River bring him nothing but trouble and must vacate his ship immediately. 

            However, this is merely part of the role Reynolds plays.  Despite his violent disagreement at Saffron’s insistence that we all merely play our parts, on some level, he knows she’s right.  For further confirmation of this, the audience need only look to the crew he has surrounded himself in.  Each member aboard Serenity represents some facet of his personality long driven away by trials and tribulations.  Kaylee, with her naïveté and sweet innocence, Wash with his avid love of life and resulting sense of humor, Book’s spirituality and Inara’s blunt preference for honesty, which allows her to speak her mind—well, on most things, anyway.  Together, they represent a man the audience never truly got to meet—the Malcolm Reynolds in the days before the war.  As a result, he is highly loyal to all those who surround him; he protects his crew because he doesn’t want to see them damaged as he is.

            Mal informs Saffron that, despite the fact that she believes she has the edge due to her clever cunning, she’s wrong. He has his friends and crewmates—people he honestly believes he can count on until his very last breath.  He never once doubts that they will come through for him in the end; that, to him, is far more valuable than any form of intellect Saffron may have in her possession. 

            At first, River and Simon were not necessarily included in this grouping.  However, by “Safe,” Reynolds reveals the great lengths he is willing to go through for their safety—although, I could argue this is at least partially due to his dedication to his own moral code, but more on that later.  The audience sees this again in “Ariel,” as Mal nearly kills Jayne for turning the pair over to the feds.  This conflict is crucial in terms of his character development—where he previously and sometimes presently couldn’t tolerate the risk the two presented to his ship and his crew, he is now willing to murder a ranking crew member for their sake. 

            Then there is, of course, his intense loyalty to Inara.  While he is obviously allegiant to all members of his crew, his relationship with Inara has always involved a different form of devotion.  When she requests he come to the rescue of her friends—all of which are common whores, not even worthy of the elevated status of Companion—he heeds her request with very few questions asked.  Although, he screws it up royally as he manages to sleep with the head whore, Nandi.  This action, a cliché guy move, placed me as definitively disappointed in the character for quite some time.  In the film, he comes to aid, despite knowing that it is undeniably a trap.  Even after a conflict breaks out, they both work together to insure they return to Serenity in one piece.

            River, Simon and Inara are not the only people or material objects Mal blesses with his strong sense of allegiance. When he is faced with the choice between himself and his crew, Reynolds will undeniably sacrifice his own livelihood to insure their survival.  While the audience had suspected the character was capable of this selflessness, we see it first hand in “Out of Gas,” where the captain evacuates his crew and elects to stay behind and attempt to fix Serenity himself.

            This is not a one-way street; the crew is equally resolute in their dedication to their captain, as he is to them.  Before the end of “Out of Gas,” both shuttles have returned to aid Mal; as a result, they manage to save him at the very last moment.

            Even a petty Alliance Commander, who has known Mal for approximately fifteen minutes in “Bushwacked,” can very easily spot the faith his crew has in him.  He comments that the captain is not only capable of extreme loyalty, but that he also has a habit of inspiring that quality in others.  While the faith he puts in his friends and the fealty he receives in return is incredibly valuable, his ability to imbue that characteristic where it may not have previously resided is certainly most impressive.

            The conversation with the commander reveals a deeper and even more important aspect of Mal’s demeanor.  As he snidely responds to the posed questions, the audience learns very quickly that this is a stubborn character with very little respect for authority—a particularly ironic current characteristic, considering his position of power aboard Serenity.  Instead of idly keeping his temper in check, he still feels compelled, even years after the war has ended, to return the favor when members of the Alliance push.  In the interrogation, the commander implies that he isn’t a fan of Serenity’s name—the ship is, after all, named after the definitive final battle of the Unification War, where the Browncoats suffered their final crushing defeat.  The Alliance member embraces the opportunity to reassure Reynolds it is ridiculous to name a ship after a battle of a war he was on the wrong side of.  In response, with a thinly veiled tone of contempt, the captain snipes right back, as he claims losing doesn’t necessarily equate to wrong. 

            This is, obviously, a very risky move.  He is in their territory; it would be very simple for the commander to seize his ship and his crew.  However, whether fortunately or unfortunately, Mal has his own pressing moral code that demands to be followed.  As a result, he refuses to be bullied by the authority of the Alliance.  This leads to a proclivity towards underdogs—his choice in crew supports this, as almost every single member aboard the ship is at odds with some banner philosophy of the Alliance—and controversial causes. 

            He helps the whores in “Heart of Gold,” not only because Inara asked him to, but because they face an oppressive force.  His motivation behind constantly assisting River and Simon’s escape from the Alliance is partially driven by a general blanket of loyalty to any person who sets foot on his ship; however, the truly deeper desire is a blind refusal to submit anything or anyone to the Alliance.  He is, at his very core, still at war with the oppressive figures and, therefore, cannot justify giving them any pardon or assistance. 

            Perhaps the most interesting part of his own moral code is his opinion towards women and how they deserve to be treated.  On one hand, he is ever eager to insult Inara’s profession, calling her a whore at every opportunity that presents itself.  However, the moment someone becomes too possessive or disrespectful, he is the first to throw down the gauntlet.  In “Shindig,” Mal spends the bulk of the episode nitpicking Inara’s date—a client named Atherton who presents a pleasant surface appearance, even going so far as to offer to employ Inara as his regular companion, only to pan out to be a misogynist who seeks to possess her, whether she agrees or not.  As a result, Mal challenges Ath to a duel, one he perseveres to win for the sake of his somewhat antiquated penchant for protection. 

            This is also revealed in “Our Mrs. Reynolds,” where Mal delivers a poetic speech to his supposed wife—or, at least, poetic by his standards.  When Joan Saffron implies that men are permitted to kill unpleasing wives on her home planet, Reynolds is quick to be disgusted, as he barks at her that she should never stand for that:  “someone ever tries to kill you, you try to kill ‘em right back.”

            Perhaps typical captains of spaceships would’ve advised a woman to seek out the assistance of someone stronger—a man, perhaps?  It’s certainly what Caleb would’ve encouraged what he saw as worthless women to do.  However, Mal, conceived as a positive character in the wonder that is Joss Whedon’s mind, knows that women are more than capable of handing themselves.  He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s quite right, as Saffron serves to be one of the very few women who can outsmart this clever captain.  Once again, when the truth is revealed, and Saffron manages to overcome Reynolds, not once, but twice, he may be surprised—due to his own propensity towards prosperity—but he is never disgusted, merely vastly impressed.

From Gary King to Nicholas Angel:  Is Captain Mal a good role model?  Reynolds served for his own noble cause in the Unification War, where he fought for the underdogs—the Independents.  While their war effort may have lost, it is admirable to see a character willing to take a stand for a cause that is truly worth the dedication Mal offers.  Even after they’ve lost the war, he continues to hold his ground, as he continually defies the Alliance.  His allegiance is admirable.  There is also a deep respect for woman about the character that is exemplary.  Mal’s ability to see females as powerful and authoritative characters is something almost every man I’ve met could use a bit more of.  This respect, although valuable, has a tendency to cross into over-protection, which can aggravate women who don’t feel the need to have a bodyguard constantly looming over them. His character has some rough edges, brought on by the terrible trials and tribulations he suffered through in his service for the Unification War.  While he can be snarky and rude at times, generally the character is decently balanced, particularly considering the struggle he’s suffered.  In fact, this ruggedness has equipped him with a rough sense of humor that allows him to simultaneously worry over potential Alliance threats and laugh off the inherent danger present to their every day lives.  Much like Percy Jackson, Mal Reynolds manages to toe a line between realistically vulnerable yet casual acknowledgements that our fate isn’t always in our realm of control. 
Role Model Rating:  8/10

From Peter Parker to Spider-Man:  Is Captain Mal relatable?  Mal, despite being more intelligent than he actually gives himself credit for, is not above fault.  He misreads the Saffron situation, opening himself and his entire crew up for raid.  This instance, and several others similar to it, shows an inherent ability to not only acknowledge his own mistakes, but keep an ever present smile on his face while he does so.  Often this smile is nothing more than a facade, introducing another relatable factor to the character.  Despite his insistence that Saffron is wrong on the ‘we all play parts’ front, he, much like the bulk of the audience and fellow fictional characters alike—except Cordy.  I think we all can agree that’s one Whedon character that truly puts her entire self out there, exposed openly to the world—always puts on his brave face and utters a sarcastic comment to hide how things truly affect him.  In a world where appearance is everything, this is remarkably relatable, if not depressingly so.  Finally, while loyalty is truly important to the captain, his first priority is money.  This is very applicable to the audience, as we all seem to agree we could always use a few more funds.

Relatability Rating:  9/10

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