Mal: Now, this is all the money Niska gave us in advance. You bring it back to him. Tell him the job didn’t work out. We’re not thieves. But we are thieves. Point is, we’re not takin’ what’s his. Now we’ll stay out of his way as best we can from here on in. You explain that’s best for everyone, okay?
Crow: Keep the money. Use it to buy a funeral. It doesn’t matter where you go or how far you fly. I will hunt you down, and the last thing you see will be my blade.
Mal: Darn.
This is one of the quintessential episodes of the short-lived but brilliant show Firefly, and one of the best episodes of any science fiction show in recent memory. While the premise of the show (an old-fashioned train robbery) is engaging in and of itself, it’s the way that Joss Wheedon, the TV show’s creator and the director of this episode, introduces his characters and lets them play within the tapestry he has imagined, that truly hook the viewer and set the tone for the series as a whole.  I often tell people that Firefly is sort of like what would happen if there was a TV show about the adventures of Han Solo–the Solo who shoots first, that is.  And the above dialog between the show’s hero, Malcolm, and one very nasty henchman, perfectly capture the mix of determination, heroism, and (provided you have seen the episode) humor that has eluded so many TV protagonists in recent memory.
Firely is also often described as a western in outer space, and with the backdrop of a train heist, and a cast of ragtag scoundrels living life by their own rules, it’s easy to see how one would arrive at this sort of conclusion after watching The Train Job. Interestingly, Wheedon had originally intended to use this as the true pilot episode, and the character introductions feel much more natural and organic than in the substitute pilot demanded by FOX. So much characterization is packed into the 40 short minutes of The Train Job that I think Aaron Sorkin would even be jealous. But far from just introducing the characters, they each find a way to contribute to the show (save for River, the young girl whose past is hinted at and spends most of the episode practicing emo stares in the corner). We get hints that “shepherd” Book is more than he claims to be, see many sides of the illustrious Jayne, and even get a peek at a budding romance between the ship’s mechanic and doctor. But it’s the final minutes of the show, when the fearless take-no-prisoners Captain Mal demonstrates what Faramir in Lord of the Rings would call his true quality that we see how special these characters, and the who show, really are.
Movies based on plays are a tricky proposition for today’s audiences weaned on the theatrical bombast of directors such as Michael Bay, Tony Scott, and the Wachowski Brothers. Not to mention their forebears, the great Lucas and Spielberg. Whereas movies often employ special effects, realistic audio, blaring soundtracks, and a host of other tricks to enhance the viewing experience, plays instead offer, for the most part, only dialog cemented by good ol’fashioned acting. And this is why adapting a play into a movie is a somewhat daunting task for any director, but Ron Howard manages to pull it off quite nicely.
The premise of the movie seems benign enough: two strapping East Coast lads set out to plant an acre of corn so they can find out what happens to their crop once its all growed up and ready to set out on its own. So they head off to Greene, Iowa, where (it turns out) their great-grandfathers both grew up together. They rent an acre from an old lifelong Iowa farmer and set about tilling, planting, fertilizing, and eventually spending the night with 180 bushels of their own corn. Along the way we find out about how much farming has changed in the past several decades, how our desire for cheap food has led to an explosion in corn production, and why High Fructose Corn Syrup is basically like drinking liquid secondhand smoke.
The movie itself is more like a prequel than anything, as Tony Stark, played by Downey Jr. (can I just say Downey from here on out? I believe I shall.), spends much of the first half in a cave constructing the beta version of his famous iron suit. After that he spends the next 30 minutes building and testing version 1.0, and is actually only Iron Man for the final act. His stint as a superhero, in fact, is limited to one brief incident involving the rescue of a handful of villagers being bullied by his former captors from when he was in the cave at the beginning of the movie. So the title should really be something indie-ish or alt-culture like Becoming Iron Man. I doubt that would have flew well with most mainstream moviegoers this side of the Ross Film Theatre, though.
I never got the medal. But, many years later, my admiration for Arnold only increased when I saw Terminator 2 in my friend’s basement, and ever since I have had somewhat of an odd admiration for not only the man’s charming ability to anchor a movie but to be a positive influence in the world of physical fitness (a decade of steroid usage in his youth notwithstanding).
Meanwhile, Tucker invites T’pol to watch the original black-and-white Frankenstein because he wants her to experience a horror movie. She resists at first, but once again we have the non-human character make all kinds of observations about human behavior while growing more human herself. Again, this subplot just doesn’t feel natural. It’s kind of interesting, but at the end of the day it seems like it arose out of the need for a subplot, not the desire to truly explore human emotions. Travis, as anyone could have predicted, is having trouble dealing with his father’s death. His brother doesn’t like his Starfleet sibling to come back and act like he knows what it’s like to be on a cargo ship again. Their mom plays the middle, they all get in a bad scrape, and by the end of the show we’ve all learned a valuable lesson about overcoming differences, putting aside old conflicts, and working together as a team. Awww.
