Six: We’re the children of humanity. That makes them our parents in a sense.
Five: True, but parents have to die. It’s the only way children can come into their own.
–Battlestar Galactica, “Bastille Day”
When first I wrote about Caprica, I said it was “the story of two grieving fathers.”
I was wrong.
Oh, it’s an easy mistake to make. Daniel Greystone and Joseph Adama are two grieving fathers, both trying to find a way to hang on to their daughters — or perhaps, in Adama’s case, to free his daughter. Their initial contact, sealed by their mutual grief at the loss of their daughters and Adama’s wife in a terrorist attack, sets the stage for what is to come.
But Caprica is not about Daniel Greystone and Joseph Adama. Not really. No, Daniel and Joseph are merely players in a story being written by Zoe Greystone, with tremendous help from Lacey Rand, and with assistance from Clarice Willow, Amanda Greystone, and Tamara Adama. Two of those people — Zoe and Tamara — are dead. Three of them — Zoe, Lacey, and Tamara — are not yet adults.
And all of them are women.
It took some time for this to develop. Daniel did indeed try to save his daughter’s life by uploading her own creation — an avatar of herself, based on everything from brain scans to school records to internet logs — into a robot, a prototype Cylon, the only one he’s gotten to work. Daniel did indeed seek help from Joseph Adama, and his friends in the Ha’la’tha, the Tauron mafia, to steal technology from the Vergis Corporation, in order to try to get his daughter’s robot self working.
But Daniel wasn’t the prime mover in this drama. That was Zoe. She created her avatar, one that survived her death. Moreover, she created the program that allowed her to create the avatar. When the program was destroyed during Daniel’s attempt to upload her into a robot body, he was unable to duplicate her work. She was smarter than he was. She was the one who started the process that saved a part of her.
And when she realized that the transfer did work? That she was uploaded into a Cylon body? Well, she didn’t bother to mention it to the father of her creator — her sister, herself. Daniel had no claim on Zoe. Zoe was her own person. And throughout the series, she has hidden in plain sight, not so much as hinting that she exists, manipulating things behind the scenes — even luring a young technician working on her robot body into some cyber dates, not just because she thinks he’s cute — though she does — but in order to try to manipulate him into setting her robot self free, so she can escape Caprica and make it to Gemenon, where her human twin was heading before her human twin’s boyfriend blew up a train. The line she ultimately uses to snare the technician? It’s all about how trees should be coded in the virtual world.
Both Zoes’ friend, Lacey, is the only other person who knows Zoe’s avatar survives. And Lacey herself is not above manipulating the world to her whim. She is just a teenager, just a girl in a school, one with a headmaster who she mistrusts. But she knows the terrorist organization that Zoe orbited, and she’s slowly seducing a fellow teen, one deeper into the S.T.O. that she, into helping her to ship the Zoe robot to Gemenon. Is she attracted to him? Perhaps — but like Avatar Zoe, she’s using him, first and foremost.
Zoe and Lacey are the prime movers, but they are not the only ones. Amanda Greystone — Zoe’s mom, Daniel’s wife — is dancing on the razor’s edge between reality and unreality. Just like the rest of the Twelve Colonies, I suppose, only Amanda’s scars run deeper than just a love of virtual reality. It is Amanda’s sudden declaration at a memorial service that her daughter, Zoe, was a terrorist sympathizer — and perhaps, a terrorist — that causes a public uproar against her husband’s organization, and pushes him down a path where manufacturing more Cylons seems the only way to save his company.
Sister Clarice Willow, the headmaster of Zoe and Lacey’s school, is marvelously broken, possibly drug addicted, married into a group family that mistrusts her (save for two husbands) — and fanatically, hopelessly faithful that The One True God has a Plan. She is willing to manipulate Amanda to get the program Zoe was working on, because she believes that program is the key to eternal life for all people — the key to the very gates of heaven.
And Tamara Adama — she is lost in the virtual world, an imperfect copy of Joseph Adama’s daughter, created using the same program that created Zoe’s duplicate. She has ended up living her life in a videogame that resembles a cross between Grand Theft Auto and Worlds of Warcraft— only she’s the only character in the game who can’t die. And though she first entered the virtual world blindly, unsure of what she was or where she was, now she has become something more — something able to bend the rules of the game.
These are the leading characters of Caprica — these five women. Oh, the show does not condescend to men. Daniel is allowed his battle for his company and his search to figure out what makes the one working Cylon prototype work, when none of the others will. Joseph is allowed to try to salvage his relationship with his son, William, and to search for his daughter in the virtual world, where she is said to be. Sam Adama — Joseph’s brother — is allowed to be a Ha’la’tha enforcer who’s quietly showing his nephew the business, and coming home to a husband who worries about him. And these stories are real and deep and important.
But Daniel and Joseph are reacting to the world around them. Zoe, Lacey, Amanda, Clarice, Tamara? They’re acting. They’re the one calling the tune. Daniel and Joseph are dancing.
It’s rather bracing to see. Battlestar Galactica had its share of strong female characters — President Roslin, Kara Thrace, Athena, Three, Six — but this is something more. It’s sad, but it’s rather startling to see in the far-too-male world of science fiction television. And it’s incredibly welcome. Because these characters’ actions are believable, are entertaining, are contradictory and stupid and brilliant and right and wrong in just the way real humans behave. Caprica is not a show about fathers. And it is not merely a show about mothers and daughters and friends. It is a great show about mothers and daughters and friends — and fathers too.
It might be more comforting if the female characters aren’t being set up as those who upset the balance of society–they seem to be more the antagonists, if they are the actors. And science fiction can be a wellspring of dangerous women.
NDR–
Clarice is definitely an antagonist, though in the grand Moore tradition, she’s an antagonist with good intentions. But really, I think Daniel is being set up as the main antagonist; his choices are reckless and petulant, and his business-saving plan — to build an army of “artificially sentient” Cylons — is immoral on its face. Indeed, it will not only cause the Cylons to rebel within a few years, but it will ultimately drive humanity nearly to extinction.
But it’s important to note that Daniel, while brilliant, is simply using the tools that others have provided. The kernel of artificial sentience comes from his daughter, as does the indirect clue that will allow him to harness it. The drivetrain for his Cylon is stolen. He himself knows what he wants, but he’s building on the decisions and creations of others. Again, Daniel is reacting — and reacting recklessly.
Frankly, I’m not that worried about anyone being the designated antagonist. Other than Cavil, there wasn’t a pure antagonist on Battlestar Galactica. The Cylons had a point. They went too far (at Cavil’s urging), but when your species has been enslaved, it’s a bit understandable to hold a grudge. The Cylons were redeemable, and ultimately, many of them joined in common cause with the surviving humans. The Threes, Sixes, and Eights (sans Boomer) and D’Anna Biers all were heroes by the end.
And the humans were neither all good nor all bad. Roslin executed Cylons without trial, and defended the principles of democracy. Baltar inadvertently helped the Cylon genocide, and worked to protect innocent life. Bill Adama made rash and reckless decisions, and led his people to the promised land. Kara Thrace — Gods, Kara Thrace was a mess, a broken and beautiful soul, the harbinger of death and the angel of redemption.
Ronald D. Moore paints in shades of gray. And so while all of the women on the show are flawed, I’m not worried that this will be a Women Destroy Humanity show. What will destroy humanity on the Twelve Colonies is exactly what one would expect — arrogance. Greed. Lack of concern for others. And those are not gendered concepts.
Thank you for pinpointing for me what it is about Caprica that has ensnared me in a way that BG did not.
When you put it that way, you make me think I’ll have to watch. I’m not a big fan of BSG, although I like a lot of its elements.
Thanks for this, Jeff. For me the show has seemed mired in exposition. Thank you for clearing away the detritus and allowing me to see what you’ve seen.
I must cop to realizing that bit about Daniel Graystone reacting, though. One ill-considered act (the engineering of the theft) tumbles into nothing but bad v. worse choices.
Thanks again.