Top 7 Science Fiction “Sidekicks” (in Film)
Comic books may have the sidekick thing down, but science fiction has had a fair share of excellent sidekicks. This list is primarily focused on clear science fiction (in a loose sense and not based on my definitions here and here), so you won’t see any comic books or fantasy titles represented. Without further delay, here are what I consider to be the top seven: Chewbacca (Star Wars)I would argue that Chewbacca is the greatest science fiction sidekick in film history, but I’m sure those reading this will disagree. But, given that he’s a walking carpet with fangs, speaks in a bizarre grunting language that only Han Solo and Yoda seem to understand, and can pop the head off a grown man with his pinkie finger, I think he deserves to be here. Chewbacca is kind of like what a wolf would be like if it walked on two legs. Awesome? I think so. Spock (Star Trek)The only true rival to Chewbacca, in my opinion, Spock is sort of like the science fiction version of Legolas, only not nearly as cute. It would be hard to imagine Star Trek without Spock. What would Captain Kirk do without his half-human, half-vulcan, logic-spouting machine? He’d probably be dead and we wouldn’t be talking about the guy as if he were real. Spock is like Kirk’s exact opposite, and that seems to be why he functions so well as a character. Zoe (Firefly)There’s something astonishing about Zoe as a character. While some have criticized Whedon for making her a subservient woman, I see a strong, loyal female figure who follows Reynolds not because he’s a man, but because he is and always has been her superior in military rank. And she seems to know exactly how to put up with Reynold’s crap, like all good sidekicks should. Smart, witty, and damn good with a gun, Zoe is one of the best female sidekicks in science fiction history. Professor Arturo (Sliders)John Rhys Davies is amazing. If that isn’t enough to put Professor Arturo on this list, then consider that Arturo was, by far, the best character on the show, so much so that his death drove the quality of Sliders right into the garbage bin. Arturo was smart, opinionated, and yet strangely lovable. His death was a shock for a damned good reason. Starbuck (Battlestar Galactica, the new version)Some may argue with me about whether Starbuck qualifies as a sidekick, but she needs to be on this list due to how awesome of a character she was in the re-imagined Battlestar Galactica. Not only is she a hell of a pilot and a bit of a badass, but Starbuck also has a remarkable fate that leads her on an emotional roller coaster to discover Earth. Watch the show and you’ll understand why she’s awesome. Al Calavicci (Quantum Leap)I wonder what it would be like to have a holographic projection of my best friend following me around as I’m thrust through time into other people’s bodies. Would it be fun? Maybe. If Al were following me, though, I suspect it would be an interesting journey. This show is one of my Grandmother’s favorites, and I can see why. Al is a fun character played by and equally fun actor (Dean Stockwell, who actually plays Caval on Battlestar Galactica). Dana Scully (X-Files)Last of this list is another character who might not be considered to be a sidekick. Scully has a remarkable independent attitude in the series, but makes it on this list primarily because she does act as a logic machine for Mulder–sort of like Spock does for Kirk. She knows how to deal with dead bodies, gets abducted by aliens, and sees a heck of a lot of strange stuff, but still manages to be a disbeliever right up until two steps from the end. That takes guts. And there you have it. Anyone you disagree with? Who would you replace and why? Let me know in the comments!
Science Fiction Withdrawals (or How to Survive When Your Favorite Series Ends)
Battlestar Galactica is over, and it’s not the first of its kind–i.e. a great show–that has come to a grinding halt, leaving fans with nothing to fill the void. Oh, sure, when BSG ended we had loads of science fiction shows: Dollhouse, Fringe, Knight Rider, Life On Mars, Kings, Primeval, and a whole bunch of other shows either debuting or continuing in 2009. Hell, half of the shows mentioned were cancelled this year, leaving slim pickings in the science fiction department (and I use that term quite loosely to talk about television). Often the same thing happens within literature, with great series coming to an end, and few good replacements left in the mix (of course, this is far more common in fantasy than in science fiction–think Harry Potter and the void it left). What are we science fiction fans supposed to do? An even greater question is: What are we picky science fiction fans supposed to do? I never liked Dollhouse, and most of the other shows either lacked that spine-tingling anticipation garnering effect that BSG so easily produced or were downright terrible, which explains why a lot of them are no longer on the air. Do we just wait for the next big thing? And how are we to survive in the interim? I’ve found that a great way to survive is to start watching reruns. After all, sometimes it’s a good idea to go back to a show you liked so many years ago as a refresher. A truly good show is re-watchable, and if said show is particularly amazing, re-watching will create a whole new experience. Of course, if you’re as picky as I am, that means you’ll re-watch the same show over and over and over again, because it can sometimes take five or six years for something worthwhile to come along. The last time I religiously watched television was during the fourth season of BSG (because I got into the series quite late). Still, watching reruns is a great way to keep your brain entertained while searching for something new to replace the void. I don’t know how well this works for books, though. I have reread 1984 a handful of times, but that was more for my own curiosity than anything else. But reruns are a temporary fix for science fiction withdrawals. Inevitably science fiction fans have to find something to truly fill that void. Personally, this is a problem for me primarily because I am too picky. I don’t like most television shows, and getting my science fiction fix, especially in the ridiculous market we have now where channels that are supposed to play science fiction play something else, is next to impossible. Perhaps BSG is a fluke, or perhaps brilliant shows only come along once every few years. I find that the only way I can survive is to go on a science fiction movie binge; I fill my brain with Total Recall and I, Robot, and Sliders too. Sometimes I have to go outside of the genre to get the storytelling that I so desire–Band of Brothers, for example, is particularly good. Survival, it seems, depends on trying to keep yourself occupied with things you already love until such time as something new can come along to fill the space with shiny things. How do you survive? What do you do to fill the void? Do you have a few tricks up your sleeve? Let me know in the comments!
Top 10 Cats in Science Fiction and Fantasy
It’s interesting to write lists like this, because often times you don’t remember certain characters or animals in the various novels and movies you’ve seen, and when it comes time to dig up those memories, you end up recalling next to nothing. I’ve seen very few films and read very few books in which cats have played a prominent enough role to be memorable. Even worse is trying to remember all the house cats that have played some significant role in SF/F–hence why this list will not limit itself to house cats. Without further delay, here is my list of the top ten cats in science fiction and fantasy (in no particular order): The Baron (The Cat Returns / Neko no ongaeshi)Most of you have probably never heard of The Cat Returns. It’s a Japanese animated movie that follows a young girl who is whisked away into a world of cats after saving the Prince of the cat world. She enlists the help of The Baron and Muta (another cat on this list) to help her get out of her obligations to marry the Prince–because, after all, she can’t marry a cat! The Baron is played by Cary Elwes in the English subtitled version of the movie and the character of the Baron is simply amazing. He’s well-dressed, intelligent, and pretty much the best thing since sliced bread…in the cat world, that is. Muta (The Cat Returns / Neko no ongaeshi) A typical fat cat with an attitude, Muta is the strangely reliable, intensely grumpy sidekick of The Baron. As mean as he seems, he’s actually a big, lovable fur ball with enough of an attitude to take on anything thrown his way. He makes for a good sidekick, that’s for sure, and his comedic role in The Cat Returns makes him quite memorable–he’s the only cat I know who spends much of his time arguing with a talking crow. The Cheshire Cat (Alice in Wonderland) How could anyone leave this creepy feline off a list like that? Whether you’ve seen Disney’s version of Lewis Carroll’s novel, have played American McGee’s twisted version, or read the book, the Cheshire Cat is one of the most memorable and fascinating characters in the history of children’s fantasy stories. I personally prefer American McGee’s version, an emaciated, skinless creature that helps you along your way in the equally as twisted world of Wonderland. But, the other versions certainly get the job done; it’s hard to compete with a cat that can make itself invisible! Aslan (The Chronicles of Narnia) If Mufasa is the definition of cool in the lion world, then Aslan is the definition of awesome. Not only can Aslan return from the dead, but he has god-like powers on top of being enormous and the harbinger of light and all that good stuff. Oh, and you can ride him if you’re a good person. I’ve love to ride a giant, friendly lion, wouldn’t you? Bagheera (The Jungle Book) Probably best remembered for Disney’s animated rendition of Kipling’s young adult novel, this panther acted as a father figure for young Mowgli. Smart and careful, Bagheera is everything a panther should be when turned into a talking cartoon. Jonesy (Alien) Science fiction is relatively devoid of good cat companions or characters. I’m putting Jonesy on this list primarily because, despite being a relatively insignificant character, he’s still a pretty cool little cat, with an attitude. Not much else to say, though. Oh, he hisses a lot…especially at aliens… Mufasa (The Lion King) Would any list consisting of cats in fantasy be complete without mentioning Mufasa? I submit not. I left Simba off this list primarily because I’m never thought Simba was all that great. Mufasa, on the other hand, is amazing. Strong, lovable, and capable of returning from the dead as a talking cloud, Mufasa is the definition of cool in the lion world. Too bad he was back-stabbed by his brother (or half-brother). Spot (Star Trek: The Next Generation) Most Star Trek fans know about this cat, but unfortunately a great majority of science fiction fans do not. Spot was Data’s cat and had a meaningful influence on him. In fact, their relationship became so important that the first tear Data ever shed was for Spot. This is made more profound by the fact that Data was never created with emotions; his process to “humanize” himself involved much trial and error with emotion programming, etc. Spot became, I would argue, a catalyst for his emotional maturity. The Kzinti (Larry Niven’s Known Space series) Sadly the only cat-like species I can think of from science fiction literature that I think deserves to be on this list. The Kzinti are a bloodthirsty race of giant, intelligent cats who, in Niven’s Known Space universe, engage in several wars with human beings, and other species. If you haven’t read the books, that’s okay, because all you need to know is that these critters were so awesome that they were actually included into the Star Trek extended universe. That’s right, these guys were invented outside of Star Trek, but then were brought into it and given a few spots through the various television series. That’s pretty cool in my book. The Thundercats (The Thundercats)I’m including them all on here. It would be wrong to split them up individual, and since I have the utmost respect for the Thundercats, while acknowledging that they are fictional and, thus, incapable of being upset with me for treating them as individuals, I have included them here as a group. If you don’t know who the Thundercats are, then you need to get out more. They’re, well, the Thundercats. What more do I need to say? Thunder…thunder…THUNDERCATS! I need help… And that ends this list. If you have any reservations about the items of this list, feel free to let me know in the comments. Suggestions always welcome; discussion and debates encouraged!
Reader Question: Science Fiction Definition (and Other Rhyming Goodness)(Part Two)
(Read Part One) The more I study and understand science fiction, the more I realize that the genre is simultaneously limitless and limited. While most consumers of popular fiction and films are quick to say “science fiction is spaceships and aliens,” I find such gross determinations to be overly simplistic and impossible to equate with a standard definition of the genre. Anyone familiar with science fiction would understand that spaceships and aliens are not universals of the genre. True, much of early science fiction literature and the vast majority of science fiction film have dealt quite exclusively with what are considered to be the “tropes” (and cliches) of the genre, but science fiction is, undoubtedly, about so much more. In getting to the end of this post, I have to indicate that I probably have shifted my position from earlier discussions of what science fiction is. I still hold to certain idealistic perceptions of the genre, and while Darko Suvin, Samuel R. Delany, and even Istvan Csicsery-Ronay, Jr. have all used relatively isolated definitions of the genre, we must define science fiction by what it is universally; there cannot, in my opinion, be exceptions to the rule. What defines science fiction, to me, are these elements, placed together and never separate: The presence of the future, whether it be tomorrow or a thousand years distant, or, at least a progression into the future within the narrative itself. The future is absolutely essential to any proper definition of science fiction. Some have argued with me, in the past, that this would inevitably create a paradoxical relationship with narratives dealing with the past, but I would argue that only those narratives which contain primary characters from a future point can be up for true consideration in the genre. Alternate history, thus, is not science fiction, but The Time Machine and Back to the Future are, up to this point. A general reflection or speculation upon aspects of the technological or social, in their most broadest contexts. Science fiction contains the word “science” for a reason. It is not necessary, per se, for a science fiction narrative to get the science absolutely correct, but it is necessary for the narrative to speculate upon the possibilities of technologies, social structures, etc. Most any field of science is applicable to science fiction, and you could certainly write a science fiction narrative that questions issues of archaeology or paleontology, etc. It should be noted, too, that the science, whatever field it may be, does not necessarily have to be central to the story itself; hence why many science fiction stories may set themselves up in universes or worlds vastly different from our own, but yet are more concerned with issues of character or plot. Having said this, though, I want to be clear that a scientific approach (or cognitive estrangement, if you will) to envisioning science fiction is essential; you might not make a laser pistol a significant concern for the characters (such as by asking how the laser pistol has changed the face of the world), but it still must be there (and you can, of course, supplement the laser pistol for any scientific subject, so long as it is sufficiently estranged from the present to speak upon Suvin’s “cognitive estrangement” concept).Additional qualifiers for this subject include: The acknowledgement of temporal placement of the narrative from the author’s perspective (i.e. when it was written). While the science should, for all intensive purposes, be correct, even theoretically, some leeway must be given to texts which precede current science. Hence why The Time Machine is still considered a work of science fiction despite new scientific research which has largely proven the subject of time travel, at least via H. G. Wells’ vision. A general displacement of Clarke’s Third Law (i.e. that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic). If it’s indistinguishable from magic, it is magic, and any discussion otherwise is fairly pointless. A discussion, whether directly or otherwise, of the human condition. This is not to say that every science fiction narrative must be aware or obsessed with humanity, but such narratives must be aware of a human, or even inhuman, concern with the wider world/universe/etc. Have laid out these complicated elements of true science fiction (presence of the future, speculations on science or technology, awareness or dealing with the human condition), it would seem that certain texts/films would have to be excluded from science fiction, including some of my personal favorites (Star Wars, for example, though Lucas certainly attempted to compensate for his fantastic approach to the genre by providing an ill-conceived scientific explanation for the Force). Exclusions are, perhaps, inevitable in any definition of science fiction. If we look at definitions of the genre by professionals within the literary field, we see that exclusion is impossible to avoid. I won’t remark on them here, because this post is long enough as it is, but you should certainly get to know the field as it is defined by professionals. But, since this is in response to a question give to me by a reader, I should indicate that my definition/conception of science fiction is by far not the most readily accepted one. Typically, one looks to the genre for its cliches, and those happen to be spaceships, lasers, and other flashy things. Even serious science fiction uses these things, from time to time. To close this discussion, I’ll leave you with a word of advice: don’t worry too much about what science fiction actually is. Because the genre is not so easily defined, by anyone, it doesn’t really matter whether you use elements that are not necessarily science fiction by my account or anyone else’s. Star Wars will probably always be known as science fiction, no matter how hard anyone tries to push it into the science fantasy category. What are you thoughts on defining science fiction? Let me know in the comments. ————————————————- If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy,
Reader Question: Science Fiction Definition (and Other Rhyming Goodness)(Part One)
Kelsey, a friend from Facebook and Young Writers Online, recently asked me the following question: This might be a stupid question, but what exactly defines SciFi, or what are the characteristics? Most people think (like my pitiful self) of space-ships, but I’ve also heard 1984 and other such books being called SciFi. Firstly, I want to make it clear that I am not going to get into the debate over the differences between the terms “science fiction” and “scifi.” Kelsey is specifically talking about the genre as a whole, and any discussions over the subtle nuances that separate the “serious” genre from its “entertainment-oriented” brother/sister will distract from the issue at hand. Secondly, my answer to this question is a personal one, and while I may consider it to be the right one, others will obviously disagree. This post should then become more of an open forum to discuss what may be the defining elements of science fiction as a genre, as in those elements which most easily define it without getting into a sempiternal dispersion of “or”s and “unless”s. Defining science fiction has been and continues to be one of the most challenging issues for writers and fans of the genre. Many have argued for various versions of definition, but no single definition, at least one that has been specifically defined, has been accepted or held firm by the public, writers, or the publishing industry. We run into a huge problem with defining science fiction due to absurd debates about what is and is not science fiction. Some argue that science fiction is not serious, that it is a genre fashioned entirely for entertainment, and anything that happens to use the furniture of science fiction, but is “serious” or “literary,” must not be debased by the term “science fiction.” Thus, high literary critics argue that 1984 and other classic examples of science fiction (Brave New World, Utopia, We, etc.) are literary endeavors and above the purview of the “pulpy nonsense” that has typically made up science fiction as a genre. But these sorts of arguments miss the point: that science fiction is like any other genre of literature and contains within itself the markings of good and bad, serious and juvenile, great and mediocre. With that in mind, how do we define such a genre if it is, at any point in time, a collage of elements equally as vast as its sister genre, fantasy? Here we have to look to two of the most recognized literary theorists who have, at one point or another, focused their attention onto a genre that has largely been ridiculed and treated with derision: Samuel R. Delany and Darko Suvin. Delany, to my understanding, argues for a verbal or lingual understanding of science fiction. While this is made far more complex and limiting in his various critical approaches to this theoretical model, the basic premise of science fiction as a linguistically designated genre delves into the “how” of the reading process (in science fiction). You do not read a science fiction novel the same way you read a romance novel, because what may be seemingly mundane in romance will be quite the opposite in science fiction. I am, unfortunately, not nearly as familiar with his theories as I would like to be, but it is still interesting to note this approach to understanding what science fiction is. Suvin, however, makes the argument that science fiction is “cognitive estrangement.” Broken down, this means that science fiction is about taking a cognitive element and twisting it so that it drags the reader to a different space–a space that is occupied by both the estranged (unreal, perhaps) and the cognitive (understood to be true at a particular time, or to at least be based on a cognitive element). Specifically, this takes into account the two elements of the term “science fiction” (i.e. science and fiction). Since one is, by default, a product of the imagined, to varying degrees, and the former is a product of human understanding of the natural world, these terms converge together to form a world view that is not only aware of what is or probably is true, but is also aware of the fictive reality that exists in the realm of speculation. This concept, perhaps, explains the initial creation of the term “speculative fiction” to mean, roughly, the same as “science fiction,” because ultimately what science fiction does is speculate upon possibilities, on potential realities broken from the temporal and spacial plane of reality. Hence, cognitive estrangement: since cognition is a process/perception of understanding based on learning and reason, to estrange that perception is to take it to a stage above current reality into one of the possible reality (i.e. where much of the “what if” questions arise from within early and middle-age science fiction). I tend to agree with Suvin, but because most who are familiar with his theoretical approach to science fiction only know it at its most basic, it tends to hold a limited view. Suvin, of course, discusses at length in various essays how he envisions the genre and where to draw the line. Due to the length of this post, I’m going to have to cut this short here. In the second part to this, I’d like to draw my own line. For now, feel free to open the discussion on what you think science fiction is. A good debate would do us some good, I think. Read Part Two ————————————————- If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related you’d like answered here, whether silly or serious, feel free to send it via email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, tweet it via Twitter to @shaunduke, or leave it in the comments here. Questions are always welcome! If you liked this post, consider stumbling, digging, or linking to it!
SF/F Links: The Last For June
Well, here are a few more for this month to keep things interesting. Enjoy! L. E. Modesitt, Jr. talks about the “golden age” of writing that everyone seems to refer to. Definitely eye-opening. Things weren’t all that great back in the day… A little history about my ancient relatives from many hundreds of years ago that might be interesting to some of you out there. I found it fascinating the other day. Bibliophile Stalker offers a fantastic argument for why the ebook industry is not like the music industry. The Torch Online asks why it’s called the “Science Fiction Section” when fantasy outsells SF. I don’t agree with the way the article ends, but it’s still interesting. Follow the Reader talks about the potential impact of Twitter and blogs on book sales. A bit inconclusive, but still interesting. An interesting prediction: reading and writing will peak in 2025 and then decline (like smoking did some time ago). Not sure I agree, but it’s an interesting prediction nonetheless. Here’s something interesting: a 35,000-year-old flute has been found and is the oldest musical instrument known to exist. How about some steampunk? Well here’s an interesting discussion on the intersection of race and steampunk. And don’t forget this history of steampunk. Seems like steampunk is the big things these day. Of course, that’s quite obvious. J. A. Brock asks whether fantasy is speculative fiction. It is, but his reasoning is worth checking out. The Cedar Lounge Revolution talks about the Guardian List of 100 best SF/F novels and literary fiction. A good bit of criticism about top lists. Here’s an informative article on dragons. Not sure if it was stolen from Wikipedia, but it’s still interesting. Fantasy Book Reviewers asks whether fantasy is more re-readable than SF. Is it? I don’t know. I’ve re-read 1984 a few times, but haven’t re-read any fantasy books. But that’s me.