Scifi TV Moms aka The Future of Motherhood

Flashback to the 1984 tv series V. Possibly the greatest
subliminal commercial for safe sex & teen abstinence.

In recent times, motherhood has been a dominant theme in various science fiction outings.

The representations vary from interesting to problematic—depending on your interpretation. That's what's great about television; it's a completely personal experience. You end up following a television show, returning episode after episode, because aspects of the narrative, or the characters, appeal. How, or why, varies greatly; sometimes a viewer can't explain the connection. That's the beauty of entertainment—the complex, incredible puzzle of what will appeal to the psyche.

Many people have spoken, and written, on the representation of motherhood across myriad forms of storytelling, so I'm barely dipping the tip of the nail of my tiniest toe into a giant pool, if not an ocean of thoughtful text on the subject. This blog focuses on recent science fiction television's fascination with motherhood, and my reaction to the angles taken, making this an opinion piece more than anything else.

But that's what I love about small screen fare. Everyone is free to reach their own conclusions (basically a mix of opinion and reaction), and can, in a sense, vote with their viewing for the continuation of programs that intrigue, relax, inspire, and/or entertain them. 

Here are my thoughts on the concept of motherhood in the following (relatively fresh) science fiction outings, and the role it played (pardon the pun) in the narrative:

CONTINUUM

Kira aptly holding the key to the
past, present, and future in her hands.

For me, the presence of motherhood in the narrative worked wonderfully in this series. Since this is a beautifully written, thematically complex offering that's probably not surprising. Unlike many other scifi shows that have a grand concept they never explore properly, or characters that lack a certain psychological subtlety, Continuum delivers on all fronts.

Kiera's motherhood is used to tether the character to her original timeline, and to show the audience softer elements of her personality (in contrast to her rigid future cop default workplace persona). 

When it came to establishing an emotional tether, her husband wasn't an option because of their flawed relationship. If she'd ignored all the signs the future she came from was corrupt and questionable just to return to a romantic interest, the audience would have been disappointed, given her character growth during the series. (Also, making him unfaithful freed her up romantically in the present day.)

Her son is a different story. To let go of the timeline she came from would most likely erase his existence, a shockingly difficult act to ask of a mother. As Keira becomes more and more aware that clinging to her old timeline may not be the best choice for society, she continues to do so in great part because her son's existence depends on it. This situation fuels the character's inner conflict, a struggle that feels believable to the audience. 

ORPHAN BLACK

Sarah and Helena.
(Helena is actually my favorite character.)

I haven't seen all episodes currently available, because while I very much enjoy this series and find it entertaining, I don't consider it great scifi. For me the clone characters are too close to caricatures, and often elements of the storyline feel oversimplified. I think the zany humor glosses over the gaps, but unlike most of my friends who would give it a rave 4.75 out of 5, I'd be more inclined to lean toward 3.5.

Once again, motherhood fuels the story from the get-go. The character of Sarah is motivated by the desire to reclaim custody of her daughter Kira. (Personally, I feel the kid was better off with Mrs. S.) Sarah is a flawed hero, and while I like her, frankly she's a bit annoying onscreen. Her love for her daughter is repeatedly touted, referenced by herself and other characters, to the point where it seems in danger of becoming her only defining element.

She's constantly vowing to get her daughter back, threatening anyone who could potentially be a threat to Kira, impulsively dashing here and there when she feels the child may be in danger. For me, she's way too erratic a character, and borders on the traditionally histrionic representation of the mother.

Interestingly enough, Kira seems to exhibit precog skills now and again and occasionally appears more like the parent in the relationship. In this case it's the child character making the motherhood narrative more rounded. Likewise, linking the fertility aspect of the storyline to the health of the clones is a clever twist that makes the motherhood arc even more relevant to the series; a reveal that highlighted some nice writing. 

EXTANT

Space: not as lonely as it's cracked up to be.

From the get-go, Extant struggled under the weight of exceedingly complex themes. I'm guessing the goal was to provide a bridging character for the audience, hence the lead's desire for motherhood, but given the resulting low ratings I think it's clear something was lost in delivery.

For me, Halle Berry's character Molly spends most of the first season a victim. In my mind this is different to a lead that has been victimized; their narrative journey is generally one of self empowerment, in that they find a way to fight back or move forward, even if it's more metaphoric, or emotional. A subtle difference, sure, but a distinction the audience often picks up on. While searching for answers, Molly seems permanently on the edge of hysteria, and despite being so brilliant she made it to space, doesn't appear capable of unraveling what happened to her in a way that empowers the character.

I think the idea was to make her less superhero, more relatable, but she presents too simplistically. I guess I expected more from the lead. Just when you think she's uncovered a new clue she could potentially utilize to gain control of the narrative, the situation repeatedly slips through her fingers. Rather than drawing me in, her lackluster and often shortsighted efforts to unearth the truth both aggravate and alienate.

Making her son at home (basically) a robot and impregnating her with an alien child were story choices that muddied the waters more than anything else. Obviously the goal was to extrapolate on and explore current and potential societal issues (in this case, the "otherness" of alien and AI life, and humanities potential emotional connections) which is one of science fiction's traditional roles, but the plot struggles to do so in an engaging way. Thematically, motherhood fails to tie in seamlessly, as does grief: usually the long-term impact of grief stokes the fires of empathy, but even the reappearance of the dead didn't completely engage me.

I'm yet to catch the next season, but am planning to tune in. Extant is one of those shows where you sense what they're striving for, and I want to see if they manage to hit their stride in the second season.

FALLING SKIES

Is it just me mom, or does my
transformation feel vaguely familiar?

My viewing relationship with Falling Skies has always been problematic. Partly because it maintains the American TV trend for long, flowing, well-conditioned hair on female characters, despite an apocalyptic setting. (Or the fact they're working in the medical section of the camp and really should tie those strands back properly.) 

Aside from that, and a slew of logistical issues (don't get me started), I was interested to see how they would approach Dr. Anne's pregnancy and mothering of Lexi. I was seriously disappointed by the storyline that saw Anne, separated from Tom, search for her daughter while leading a group of people—and essentially lose it.

Basically Anne acts like a crazy person and puts everyone in jeopardy—not to mention is responsible for the slaughter of an innocent truck driver who was trying to save a group of children. Eventually she pushes herself so hard she collapses with a fever. 

Unlike Tom Mason, a character consistently empowered by his role as a father, becoming a mother transforms Dr. Anne Glass into a manic, obsessive, and questionable leader. When Tom's sons are threatened throughout the series, more often than not the character becomes wise and focused, the emotional bond giving him strength and propelling him into action. In stark contrast, a similar scenario sees Anne overwrought and irrational, her judgment skewed by that gosh darn maternal drive.

As for the actual mothering element, the show overcomes the hassle of introducing a baby on set by adding alien genetic tampering for accelerated growth. (Yes, like the eighties television series V, where Robin's baby Elizabeth quickly reached her teenage years, complete with a similar transformative cocoon.) 

Lexi dies in a moment of self-sacrifice, but prior to this most of her time on the series is spent alienated from Anne, wasting a potentially interesting dynamic. The Lexi plotline shifted to focus on her father/daughter relationship with Tom, because the golden rule in Falling Skies is IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT TOM.

HUMANS

Anita and Laura attempt to reach an uneasy compromise.

At this point (only a few episodes in) Humans feels like a good show but not a scifi classic. I guess my qualms are the broad generalizations. Humans are portrayed as somewhat limited, cruel, and awful. The Synths (robots/androids) are either automatons or innocent victims due to sentience. A few exceptions, but overall, the status quo holds.

Artificial intelligence is prime fodder for scifi exploration, but this feels jaded. And it plays into the idea if you give people permission to indulge in cruelty, they will. The series is fundamentally too pessimistic for my tastes; I believe people would be more likely to become emotionally attached to Synths.

In regards to the blog theme of motherhood in scifi, the series offers the human character Sarah. When her husband purchases a Synth called Anita, the script extrapolates beyond the uncomfortableness a working woman may experience when a nanny or housekeeper begins to fulfill aspects of the mother's traditional role in the home.

Unfortunately after the first two episodes I found Laura so unlikeable I would have been okay with the Synth accidentally knocking her off and burying her in the garden. When Laura asks, "Do you think we love our children because we choose to, or because we have to? Are we hardwired to love them because that's what nature needs to keep it all going?" it doesn't make the character any more likeable.

Anita exhibits traits traditionally considered positive and often associated with motherhood. Laura's protectiveness is expressed in a more aggressive, resentful, even hateful way, seemingly inspired by fear, a representation that doesn't say much for modern mothers. In case you missed the dichotomy at work, the point is then expressed in dialogue that infers one character's actions are a result of logic, the other of love—no matter how erratically said emotion is expressed. 

For me, it's too heavy handed an allocation; I prefer a more subtle script, and frankly, a less bleak take on humanity. Perhaps I'll check out the Swedish version, which I've been told has a slightly more upbeat feel.*

*Side note: A number of the cast (William Hurt, Gemma Chan, and Colin Morgan) are so standout, they make up for the less impressive scenes.

SENSE8 

A chaotic, emotive hit and miss series.

Because the program was sold to me primarily as a science fiction series I wasn't impressed with the pilot episode. In reality this is a drama, and better viewed as such. The core science fiction element provides a narrative tool to intertwine the characters (literally). The rest of the scifi aspects are perfunctory at best: evil corporation and all.

After giving up on the series, I ended up watching the rest of the episodes while sick with a virus, and discovered at heart it's about connections—physical and/or emotional—and self-discovery. The inclusion of what amounts to a psychic link (more or less) primarily serves to up the intensity.

The unfolding story of the character Riley, culminating in the season finale, was brilliant. The loss of a baby, whether stillborn or shortly after birth, is obviously horrific. The impact is far-reaching, and I felt the character's subsequent evolution (explained backward from the present day, piece by piece) was fascinating. At first I felt no real connection to the character, but by the time she's presented to the audience in a flashback as an almost unrecognizable innocent brunette, I felt a strong empathic link.

While many elements of Sense8 are weak, and occasionally overindulgent, evoking an emotional response in the audience is one of the showa greatest strengths. I loved the broad spectrum of women presented in the series, and I think Riley's tragic experience of motherhood is one of the strongest representations of the maternal experience I've seen onscreen in a while.

When Riley was forced to confront the location where she lost the baby, and decides to give up on life, her deep-rooted despair leaked from the screen. I've used the image with Will here not because he saved her, but because he helped her reach an emotional place where she found the strength to save them both.

It's No Party The Second Time Around...

Originally considered guaranteed rating winners, reincarnated shows like 90210, V, Melrose Place and Hawaii Five-0 should be now be rated EP... for Epic Fail, that is.

Other possible warnings to include at the beginning of said programs might be:

-This Show Contains Warped Nostalgic Scenes Some Viewers May Find Disturbing.

-This Program Contains Partial Storylines.

-Viewer Discretion Advised. (Actually, there's no pun required here).

Like hooking up with an ex, tv remakes seem a good idea at the time, but tend to end in disaster.

On the surface, the pitch is solid. A show that will appeal to devotees of the original (wave to that ready made fan base), while also drawing in younger audiences, thanks to a jazzy conceptual update.

Win/win, right?

Um, sure. That is, only if you don't think the idea through properly? While the concept seems sound, cracks are there for anyone to see if they bother to glance underneath the glossily produced surface.

Let me break it down for you (with an axe, or something).

Firstly, you're playing the nostalagia card. This is a notoriously fickle part of the cultural psyche to try and tap into. Affection for an old tv show is linked to memories from that period, not to mention the way the show was lit/filmed/edited/written, all aspects which are now (naturally) hopelessly out of date.

Replacing them with new fangled options is non-negotiable, and ultimately crippling. Unfortunately, said production values were an integral part of the nostalgia. By changing the way a show is shot and edited, you effect the feel... and old fans, they want to connect, are expecting to re-connect, to that feeling again.

Set and costume design, are, of course, other elements that have a similar impact on the viewing experience.

Prime example? Seeing the Peach Pit all modernised and cold in the new 90210 sent a chill down my spine. The Peach Pit had a kind of rustic charm in the original Beverley Hills 90210. Besides which, the set design allowed for characters to interact in a cosy way (a little like the couch in Friends, or the booth in Seinfeld).

This was completely lost in the open design of the new version. Worse, it was repelling, as if a memory was being sullied, rather than celebrated.

Likewise, the first V was creepy, and quite fantastic for the period. The new V lacks the best of the old V... gone are the red uniforms and the original Star Wars-inspired special effects. Instead, we have subtle greys and a lot of CGI.

Added to which, there's the complication of modern technology completely reshaping the storyline. Worse, it creates massive plotholes; the basic freedom fighter premise of V can't quite hold up under the deluge of complex surveillance modern audiences are capable of conceptualising.

Creating general storylines for any of these shows also constitutes a problem. Today's versions are comparatively grittier; blunter, even. They need to be, to survive in the current market. I'm not arguing this is better or worse, only that it's different to the tone of the original material. So, yet another core element of ye olde efforte bites the dust.

Piece by piece, you've taken away the main identifying factors of the original program. Sure, you've offered replacement material, none of which is NOSTALGIC- that was your drawcard for this portion of the audience, remember?

At this point, the only real thing connecting fans of the original series to the new show is a base premise- and that's about it. By now, the old school crew, to put it bluntly, are quite pissed off.

Now wave goodbye to ninety percent of the nostalgia market.

Likewise, over in the other camp, new fans are becoming quickly alienated. Why? Because simply put, the series isn't that good. Our modern innovators are hog-tied not just by network input and advertising requirements (like any other show) but also by bloody annoying flashes of nostalgia they're forced to inject wherever they can.

These clumsy moments hamper the show's development, especially for new audiences, who couldn't care less about the past incarnation. Desperate nods to the original series go over their head. Instead, they're left with the impression the show is a bit clumsy, that it stumbles in some sense, and their interest quickly wanes.

Now wave goodbye to a major chunk of the new, younger audience.

Obviously, this doesn't leave a lot of viewers for the show to try and hold. In the hopes of slowing the audience exodus, program creators must define the new 'feel' of the show asap. Unfortunately, this process is marred by the fact they're still forced to juggle the afore-mentioned conflicting elements.

The blunt truth is, rather than helping a program garner ratings, the loaded history of a reincarnated show enfeebles the latest manifestation's ability to maintain the interest of those who were originally drawn in, for whatever reason.

Melrose Place has already been put down. The best performer of the new breed is Hawaii Five-0, but I wouldn't say the show is a sparkling success by any stretch of the imagination. V is near death, and 90210 merely staggers along because it screens on the CW network, which has much lower audience expectations than most American networks.

It might be time to just let the old shows go, and embrace new concepts.

Now there's an idea.

There Goes The Neighbourhood

The remake of cult television series V may not have set the (ratings) world on fire, but season two has an ace hidden up its intergalactic sleeve. Diana from the original series is back!

Remember the eighties television hit? Alien lizards in human body suits offering overtures of friendship while sneakily invading Earth and eating us? Like scaly outer space strangers handing out diplomatic lollies.

Unfortunately, modern television remakes face an awful quandary; they need to successfully marry rehashed nostalgic elements with fresh topical material. Tough call, and so far the production team responsible for V (version 2.0.1.0) have failed dismally.

The aim was to re-engage fans of the original series while also enticing new viewers. But as the premiere season progressed, audience subsets slipped through the network's fingers like millions of grains of disinterested sand.

The first few episodes of V Rebirthed were a terrible mess. Luckily, by the end of season one, the overall story arc had picked up pace. Watching the Visitors struggle with an otherworldly version of drug addiction and the alien (excuse the pun) concept of raw emotion became quite fascinating.

Ironically, the most 'human' characters on the show are the aliens. Morena Baccarin was great in Firefly as the sensual courtesan Inara. She proves her acting chops here, stepping into the disparate role of Anna with startling ease. Other key alien figures, Joshua, Marcus and Lisa, are written intriguingly and portrayed convincingly.

Unfortunately, humanity's letting the team down.

Americans can't seem to make a television show without injecting lame procedural leanings. I'm guessing some bright spark in the office thought sci-fi would have wider audience appeal if the story followed an FBI agent. You know, the kind of female cop character scriptwriters order en bulke:

"Female cop available. Wears figure hugging t-shirt and jeans, but is not overtly sexual. Both intuitive and authoritive. Has problems with intimate relationships. Constantly pieces together clues male cohorts will overlook. Long hair, but minimal makeup focusing on excessive fake eyelashes (what is with that?). Gives regular impassioned speeches. Provides moral compass. Has notable compassionate streak that will occasionally leave character feeling conflicted over difficult following-the-letter-of-the-law decisions."

Yawn.

There's a chance the show might find its feet now the clumsily awkward set-up is a distant memory. The scripting is oddly erratic; while character development progresses splendidly, logistical problems continue to trip up the creative team.

Modern technology would render a lot of the actions of the Resistance in the original V obsolete, yet still, the new version uses similar storylines. Considering aliens are even more technologically advanced, there's no way a bunch of amateur earthling activists wouldn't be bust-ed about four days into their Red Dawn act.

One character is an FBI agent and the other an arms dealer, so you'd think they'd have a heads up on this kind of thing. Like not calling each other to yell semi-hysterically across mobile phone lines in the middle of a subversive attack, for example.

But I'm feeling optimistic with actress Jane Badler re-appearing as Diana, mother of this series' big baddy Anna and grandma to conflicted Juliet character, Lisa. (For those who didn't know, Diana's been hiding out in Australia all these years. Honest!). The real question is, will she eat a rat again?