![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
...because it's aware of Star Trek and has a brave, heroic, heart-driven captain and his logical, more machine than man sidekick - except in Blake's 7 they hate each other.
Because Blake fails at being a hero, and Avon fails at being a cynic. Because Blake is not emotional at all - but sharp, calculating, and goal driven at any cost; and Avon is petty, loves big, hates big, feels before he acts and justifies it as rational to himself after.
Because Blake was written as the hero - but Gareth Thomas plays him as a villain, and Avon was the baddie - yet Paul Darrow is convinced he's the hero.
It's television magic. Add two of the greatest British TV scriptwriters, one of the greatest Brit TV directors, and a brilliant-yet-terminally-under-used-supporting-cast. But can you blame them for neglecting everybody else when they've got that relationship front and center?
Still, there's a - little bit of screen magic. In these two very generic, straightforward characters being taken by actors who independently subvert what those characters were meant to be, and then pitting them against each other in a battle of wills, of heart vs head, idealism vs reality - but in which both people are lying to themselves about who they really are. That conversation fires the show, explored every episode - the value of heroism, the value of pragmatism - and it's made rich because both characters embody both extremes, rather than a simple dance or duel.
It's the scripts in part; compared to the Doctor Who of the era, Blake's 7 is a masterpiece of writing, characterisation, direction and even effects. B7 is that little bit longer each episode, giving it more room to breathe; Boucher's talent for character fills the cast with bit part pilots & guarda, grumbling about wages or home, that little bit of life to sketch a whole world; the production design, and patient direction, makes the spaceships and technology feel grounded, organic and genuine. When Avon gets out his computer repair toolkit, or Vila his tools for lockbreaking, you believe in the reality of the world, in the strength of those cheaply-erected fake-metal doors, and the time and attention it will take them to tinker.
Watching B7 definitely made me re-evaluate how forgiving I was of 1970s Who, because B7 leaves it in the dust. B7 leaves most things in the dust; like Battlestar Galactica Reboot, which made its name for being edgy and post 9/11, and yet in terms of maturity and sophistication, it can't hold a candle to something made some 40 years earlier.
I think, in part, because modern television is emotionally accessible, raw and big, lots of threatening people with guns while weeping for intense drama moments. That wasn't really a thing in 70s SF - Blake's 7 is unusually well characterised and emotionally intense, but it's still British. Pared down, quiet, implicit; emotion coming out in performance and few words, rather than being spelled out in red paint. Galactica's Cylons sometimes look like humans - terrorists could be anyone! - and in one season casts the humans as colonised insurgents on a dusty planet enslaved by technologically advanced overlords - what if Arabs were actually people and the Americans were like monster robots???? And that's fine, but unsubtle and garish and obvious; I don't need a white person covered in dust in a tent to become a suicide bomber to understand why colonialism is bad. Come to Blake's 7. Come to where the good guys slowly, slowly, make questionable choices for the greater good. Come to where the rebellion wins, only to leave a power vacuum that descends into chaos. We have no need of robot doubles to make monsters of men.
Yes. If you have some tolerance for older telly, and a liking for SF - watch Blake's 7.
Be very careful around spoilers, don't read any reviews or join any discussion groups until you're done with every season. Just order the dvds or locate it online, and you're welcome.
Because Blake fails at being a hero, and Avon fails at being a cynic. Because Blake is not emotional at all - but sharp, calculating, and goal driven at any cost; and Avon is petty, loves big, hates big, feels before he acts and justifies it as rational to himself after.
Because Blake was written as the hero - but Gareth Thomas plays him as a villain, and Avon was the baddie - yet Paul Darrow is convinced he's the hero.
It's television magic. Add two of the greatest British TV scriptwriters, one of the greatest Brit TV directors, and a brilliant-yet-terminally-under-used-supporting-cast. But can you blame them for neglecting everybody else when they've got that relationship front and center?
Still, there's a - little bit of screen magic. In these two very generic, straightforward characters being taken by actors who independently subvert what those characters were meant to be, and then pitting them against each other in a battle of wills, of heart vs head, idealism vs reality - but in which both people are lying to themselves about who they really are. That conversation fires the show, explored every episode - the value of heroism, the value of pragmatism - and it's made rich because both characters embody both extremes, rather than a simple dance or duel.
It's the scripts in part; compared to the Doctor Who of the era, Blake's 7 is a masterpiece of writing, characterisation, direction and even effects. B7 is that little bit longer each episode, giving it more room to breathe; Boucher's talent for character fills the cast with bit part pilots & guarda, grumbling about wages or home, that little bit of life to sketch a whole world; the production design, and patient direction, makes the spaceships and technology feel grounded, organic and genuine. When Avon gets out his computer repair toolkit, or Vila his tools for lockbreaking, you believe in the reality of the world, in the strength of those cheaply-erected fake-metal doors, and the time and attention it will take them to tinker.
Watching B7 definitely made me re-evaluate how forgiving I was of 1970s Who, because B7 leaves it in the dust. B7 leaves most things in the dust; like Battlestar Galactica Reboot, which made its name for being edgy and post 9/11, and yet in terms of maturity and sophistication, it can't hold a candle to something made some 40 years earlier.
I think, in part, because modern television is emotionally accessible, raw and big, lots of threatening people with guns while weeping for intense drama moments. That wasn't really a thing in 70s SF - Blake's 7 is unusually well characterised and emotionally intense, but it's still British. Pared down, quiet, implicit; emotion coming out in performance and few words, rather than being spelled out in red paint. Galactica's Cylons sometimes look like humans - terrorists could be anyone! - and in one season casts the humans as colonised insurgents on a dusty planet enslaved by technologically advanced overlords - what if Arabs were actually people and the Americans were like monster robots???? And that's fine, but unsubtle and garish and obvious; I don't need a white person covered in dust in a tent to become a suicide bomber to understand why colonialism is bad. Come to Blake's 7. Come to where the good guys slowly, slowly, make questionable choices for the greater good. Come to where the rebellion wins, only to leave a power vacuum that descends into chaos. We have no need of robot doubles to make monsters of men.
Yes. If you have some tolerance for older telly, and a liking for SF - watch Blake's 7.
Be very careful around spoilers, don't read any reviews or join any discussion groups until you're done with every season. Just order the dvds or locate it online, and you're welcome.
