V

It’s only natural that every era produces works which fail to fully withstand the rigors of time. To make a piece of film or television truly timeless requires an almost impossibly delicate balance of strong vision and thoughtful collaboration between all parties involved, from writers and directors to set and costume designers. Perhaps it was a zeal for technological innovation that outpaced the era’s actual technological achievements coupled with an aesthetic fixation bent on the slick and sleek – or maybe it was just all the coke – whatever the reason, the 1980’s produced an inordinately high percentage of works in almost every medium which seem, in hindsight, tragically dated. These generational hiccups run the gamut from quality stories only slightly marred by the production values of the era to full on cheeze-whiz camp. Over the course of its three series run, creator Kenneth Johnson’s science fiction saga V hits each of those extremes, and every point in between. In both its strengths and its flaws, V is undeniably a product of its era.

Story has it that Johnson never intended V to be a work of science fiction, that the genre framework of the series was imposed by the network in order to take advantage of certain popular trends at the time. The stamp of compromise is as ever present throughout the series as its graffiti-ed insignia. Johnson set out to tell a story about fascism and resistance set against an American backdrop, a goal he ultimately achieved, albeit in a drastically altered form. In order to make his own vision a reality while still meeting network demands, Johnson borrowed liberally from a wealth of pop-culture sources, from classics like Casablanca and The Twilight Zone to more obvious contemporary genre films. At the onset this drawing of influence could easily be called homage, but it set a dangerous precedent which, as the series developed and Johnson began to withdraw his involvement, power-slid down a slippery slope towards hack-manship and outright theft. But I hesitate to attribute the bulk of the shows flaws to Johnson, who persevered through the original miniseries and its sequel V: The Final Battle trying desperately to preserve the shows quality and gravity in an age when Dallas and Dynasty were the kings of prime-time.

Early on V bears the burden of its age well, sometimes to the point of being almost forward looking in spite of itself. Johnson’s decision to set the series in 1980’s Los Angeles creates a juxtaposition between the relatively primitive human culture and technology and the science fiction conventions of the “visitors” – bullets verses lasers, and Ford Econolines verses starfighters. The chemistry that results hints at the sort of genre bending that would eventually give way to space-westerns like Joss Whedon’s Firefly. Give your heroes a technological disadvantage and some rough and tumble gumption, and you imbue a story with the spirit of the western. It’s a saving grace for V, and one which helps preserve the distinctly American themes Johnson clearly intended to be a cornerstone of the story.

In the final product, much can be seen of what was lost in the process of compromise and transformation – glimmers of the story that might have been. The legacy of the Vietnam war, the impact of contemporary journalism, gender issues, and the ideological debate between pacifism and self-defense are all topics which are hinted at through character backgrounds and circumstance, but which go largely unexplored. This too might be due in part to the compromised nature of the series, but probably not entirely. For one thing, even in the first installments of the series when Johnson was directly involved, the writing is lackluster at best. I’ve never used the phrase “cookie cutter dialog” before, a cliché in its own right, but it’s the only way to describe the language of V. Every line is familiar and predictable, exactly what you expect to hear for any given scene or circumstance. Where writing is concerned V is, from start to finish, a good idea which was poorly executed. Where its sci-fi tropes were borrowed from the successful franchises of the day, it likewise seems to lift its sub-plots and personal drama wholesale from the world of soap operas and trashy romances. Ultimately, though, Johnson’s V is strong enough of a story to make endearing quirks out of its flaws and merit its cult status.

Unfortunately, the same can not be said for the 19 episode series which followed Johnson’s departure from the show. The villains, once plausible if exaggerated stand-ins for the spread of neo-fascism, become absurd cartoons. The story shifts from a more linear to a more episodic structure, and with that new format the proverbial rules of engagement seem to change with every episode, sometimes even more often. In one particularly memorable episode, the investigation of an assassination amongst the “visitors” takes so many wild turns that their legal system begins to resemble a child’s game in which the rules are dictated by whim and impulse. In an odd way I enjoyed the last installment of V, but not in the way it was intended. Unfettered by creator involvement, network executives unwittingly catalyzed a shift in gears – from camp to farce – and powered right on through to the show’s final and perplexingly vague conclusion. The intent, I imagine, was to leave options open for another series; thankfully, this never came to pass.

Still, long after the show took its final bow, V lingered on in the minds of its creator and its fans alike. Johnson returned to the franchise last year with his novel V: The Second Generation based on his un-produced screenplay of the same name. This provided, in part, the impetus for ABC’s upcoming “re-imagining” of V, slated to start mid-season this fall. The remake is being written and produced by Scott Peters, creator of the short lived series The 4400.

Generally, I’m appropriately skeptical about remakes. Too often, the impulse it to take something great and put forth an attempt to give it a needless update – creating a product teeming with vanity and devoid of any originality. But on rare occasions remakes do follow a different course, taking up source material which is rife with potential but the product of poor craftsmanship, and recreating it with the wisdom of hindsight and an eye for posterity. Those sorts of remakes are riskier and far more challenging, but when they succeed the result is a memorable and worthwhile contribution, not a piece of throw-away fare like so much of today’s box-office offerings. If V has anything on its side, it’s raw potential. Combine that potential with the general maturation of television as a medium over the last 15 years, the rise in quality of its handling of the sci-fi genre, and the elevated expectations of more discriminating audiences, and you find a formula that could see the potential of Kenneth Johnson’s vision fully realized. That is, of course, if they don’t fuck it up.