Burn Notice and Shippy Thoughts

Burn Notice.

This show owns me. Totally and completely owns me.

I love every single thing about this show. The look. The writing. The style. The characters. The voice-overs. The music. The actors. The cinematography. The acting. Every single thing about this show is good, except that parts that are completely awesome. And it has that magic gestalt that makes it come together in a rare brand of perfect for a television show.

For an indication of exactly how bad I have it for this show: I have a ship. That’s right. Me. The I don’t ship-champion.

Usually, I can take and leave ships… I take them as they are written in the show and I leave them there. If the show gets a ship together, good, if not – or if not forever – I can live with that, too. I may not always see it or I may wish that it ended up differently, but I’ve never been invested in a fictional relationship enough to care outside of the show.

Ah, but Michael and Fiona. Michael and Fiona. Michael and Fiona.

I’ve spent quite a while staring at this post trying to come up with reasons why this ship makes so much sense to me. In the end, it is more than the fact that the writing of the interaction is incredibly real and that the chemistry between the actors is off the charts. Although that helps. No. I like this ship because the characters are equal. They are equally smart and equally strong and they are equally passionate about each other. Don’t get me wrong, they are not the same, they are just equal.

That kind of makes them seem like perfect characters, but they’re not. They are wonderfully flawed and are given perfect, psychologically accurate histories to explain those flaws. While those character flaws cause problems, those same “flaws” are also strengths that allow those characters to save the day. There are no value judgments placed on these “flaws”, either by the characters or the writers. And that’s a trick most shows don’t manage.

What I like best about this relationship, though, is that neither character demands a change in the other. In fact, none of the characters in the show demand change from any other. There’s never that demand (spoken or unspoken) of “if you loved me you would… insert change to be exactly the fantasy I have”. Neither character makes an untenable sacrifice or character change in order to win the approval or love of the other.

And yet, these two characters are better people together than apart. In fact, that’s something I adore about the whole show – the four main characters are better people because of their friendships/relationships with each other. They bring out the best in one another.

And for a ship to work, that’s what's needed: The characters have to bring out the best in each other. When they are around one another the characters have to realize that they need to be better – to be the best them they can possibly be. Not because it's demanded of them, but because they understand that it's what they can be.

This ship does that. The characters challenge each other to be better and provide the strength and support needed to meet that challenge.

I don't ask much from a ship, do I?

ETA: GIP!

Myr Amusements....

Myr was down in Madison today to see the University's production of "Hair". The story, as she told it (although it's much better when told directly by her and for full effect, imagine it all said in one, long breath):

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We were waiting for the play to start, and all the cast was out in the audience, handing out flowers. One gal sat down next to me. "How are you," she asked. "I'm fine. How are you?", I replied -- because this is what I always say when someone asks me how I am. She looks at me and goes, "I'm high." And I reply "Well, that's always fun". I obviously wasn't thinking clearly, because she was one the cast and she was sitting by me, out in the audience. After she left, this guy came and sat next to me, too. He put his arm around me and said, "How you doing, sister?" I don't remember what I said, but he smelled the (fake) flower I had in my hair. Then he went away, another guy came and asked me if the flower was real, when I said no he goes: "Reality is the way, man. Go with the truth." I really wish I would have said "But reality fades," but they were rather scary. For the next 15 minutes, I was terrified they would come out again. During intermission the (actor) cops came out and arrested the person in front of me. I kept thinking they were going to choose me. My chant: Actors belong on the stage. Actors belong on the stage. Actors belong on the stage.

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She really liked it, despite the fact that it was "seriously awkward" in parts. She was really glad they didn't do the nude scene because "How awkward would that be? They were sitting right next to you before the start and then, there they are, up on stage, nude. Seriously, not cool." Of course all musicals make her "ridiculously happy" and that she'd like to see it again.

It's a ton of fun to listen to her talk about it all and to watch her demonstrate some of the less subtle moves that the males on stage would make. She goes: "I kept thinking: Really, man? I mean, seriously?", which is inevitably followed by her favorite comment about the show "It was awkward."

In between all of that wonderful commentary, she did have some more analytical comments about the play. She says it's a lot like "Across the Universe". Everyone seemed to have "a lot of issues". She wasn't sure, if at the end, if Claude died in reality or just symbolically - as in he was dead to the group once he did something that didn't follow what they believed.

I totally and completely adore my child.

Just to add to that love: She wants to stop at the library to pick up a copy of "Hamlet". She's reading a novel called "Ophelia" all about, well, Ophelia and she wants to read Hamlet to see if the play is as messed up as this book portrays. I think she's going to love Hamlet, as she has a fondness for crazy.