Dirk Benedict (original Starbuck) disses new Battlestar Galactica series as too grim, gritty and feminist

Why is it that TV shows and movies before the mid 80's were more campy and fun, with good family values, and had characters that were charming and full of goodness?

But after the mid 80's, the shows and characters started to become dark and gritty?

An example of this is the old Battlestar Galactica vs. the new one. Dirk Benedict (the original Starbuck) pointed out the same comparisons as me, and noticed how the producers were trying to get you to forget the old Battlestar Galactica.

Finally someone in Hollywood agrees with us!

Here on this fan site, he disses the new Battlestar Galactica series, calling it too grim, gritty and overly feminist in that it emasculates male characters around dominant female characters. This echoes my sentiments exactly. The old show, he notes, was based on charm, family values, and spiritual faith. But this new series is based on dysfunction and bleakness.

Here is his eloquent review and thoughts.

http://www.dirkbenedictcentral.com/home/articles-readarticle.php?nid=5

Once upon a time, in what used to be a far away land called Hollywood

but is now a state of mind and everywhere, a young actor was handed a

script and asked to bring to life a character called Starbuck. I am

that actor. The script was called Battlestar Galactica.

Fortunately I was young, my imagination fertile and adrenal glands

strong, because bringing Starbuck to life was over the dead

imaginations of a lot of Network Executives. Every character trait I

struggled to give him was met with vigourous resistance. A charming

womaniser? The "Suits" (Network Executives) hated it. A cigar

(fumerello) smoker? The Suits hated it. A reluctant hero who found

humour in the bleakest of situations? The Suits hated it. All this

negative feedback convinced me I was on the right track.

Starbuck was meant to be a loveable rogue. It was best for the show,

best for the character and the best that I could do. The Suits didn't

think so. "One more cigar and he's fired,"they told Glen Larson, the

creator of the show. "We want Starbuck to appeal to the female

audience for crying out loud!" You see, the Suits knew women were

turned off by men who smoked cigars. Especially young men. (How

they "knew" this was never revealed.) And they didn't stop there. "If

Dirk doesn't quit playing every scene with a girl like he wants to

get her in bed, he's fired!" This was, well, it was blatant

heterosexuality. Treating women like "sex objects". I thought it was

flirting. Never mind. They wouldn't have it.

I wouldn't have it any other way, or rather Starbuck wouldn't. So we

persevered, Starbuck and I. The show, as the saying goes, went on and

the rest is history – for, lo and behold, women from all over the

world sent me boxes of cigars, phone numbers, dinner requests,

marriage proposals... The Suits were not impressed. They would have

there way, which is what Suits do best, and after one season of

puffing and flirting and gambling, Starbuck, that loveable scoundrel,

was indeed fired. Which is to say Battlestar Galactica was cancelled.

Starbuck however, would not stay cancelled, but simply morphed into

another flirting, cigar-smoking, blatant heterosexual called Faceman

Another show, another set of Suits and, of course, if the A-Team

movie rumours prove correct, another remake.

There was a time – I know I was there – when men were men, women were

women and sometimes a cigar was just a good smoke. But 40 years of

feminism have taken their toll. The war against masculinity has been

won. Everything has turned into its opposite, so that what was once

flirting and smoking is now sexual harassment and criminal. And

everyone is more lonely and miserable as a result.

Witness the "re-imagined" Battlestar Galactica. It's bleak,

miserable, despairing, angry and confused. Which is to say, it

reflects, in microcosm, the complete change in the politics and mores

of today's world as opposed to the world of yesterday. The world of

Lorne Greene (Adama) and Fred Astaire (Starbuck's Poppa), and Dirk

Benedict (Starbuck). I would guess Lorne is glad he's in that Big

Bonanza in the sky and well out of it. Starbuck, alas, has not been

so lucky. He's not been left to pass quietly into that trivial world

of cancelled TV characters.

"Re-imagining", they call it. "un-imagining" is more accurate. To

take what once was and twist it into what never was intended. So that

a television show based on hope, spiritual faith, and family is

unimagined and regurgitated as a show of despair, sexual violence and

family dysfunction. To better reflect the times of ambiguous morality

in which we live, one would assume. A show in which the aliens

(Cylons) are justified in their desire to destroy our civilisation.

One would assume. Indeed, let us not say who are he guys and who are

the bad. That is being "judgemental". And that kind of (simplistic)

thinking went out with Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan and

Katharine Hepburn and John Wayne and, well the original Battlestar

Galactica.

In the bleak and miserable, "re-imagined" world of Battlestar

Galactica, things are never that simple. Maybe the Cylons are not

evil and alien but in fact enlightened and evolved? Let us not judge

them so harshly. Maybe it is they who deserve to live and Adama, and

his human ilk who deserves to die? And what a way to go! For the re-

imagined terrorists (Cylons) are not mechanical robots void of soul,

of sexuality, but rather humanoid six-foot-tall former lingerie

models who f**k you to death. (Poor old Starbuck, you were imagined

to early. Think of the fun you could have had `fighting' with these

thong-clad aliens! In the spirit of such soft-core sci-fi porn I

think a more re-imaginative title would have been F**cked by A Cylon.

(Apologies to Touched by An Angel.)

One thing is certain. In the new un-imagined, re-imagined world of

Battlestar Galactica everything is female driven. The male

characters, from Adama on down, are confused, weak, and wracked with

indecision while the female characters are decisive, bold, angry as

hell, puffing cigars (gasp) and not about to take it any more.

One can quickly surmise what a problem the original Starbuck created

for the re-imaginators. Starbuck was all charm and humour and

flirting without an angry bone in his womanising body. Yes, he was

definitely `female driven', but not in the politically correct ways

of Re-imagined Television. What to do, wondered the Re-imaginators?

Keep him as he was, with a twinkle in his eye, a stogie in his mouth,

a girl in every galaxy? This could not be. He would stick out like,

well like a jock strap in a drawer of thongs. Starbuck refused to be

re-imagined. It became the Great Dilemma. How to have your Starbuck

and delete him too?

The best minds in the world of un-imagination doubled their intake of

Double Soy Lattes as they gathered in their smoke-free offices to

curse the day this chauvinistic Viper Pilot was allowed to be. But

never under estimate the power of the un-imaginative mind when it

encounters an obstacle (character) it subconsciously loathes. "Re-

inspiration" struck. Starbuck would go the way of most men in today's

society. Starbuck would become "Stardoe". What the Suits of

yesteryear had been incapable of doing to Starbuck 25 years ago was

accomplished quicker than you can say orchiectomy. Much quicker. As

in, "Frak! Gonads Gone!" And the word went out to all the Suits in

all the smoke-free offices throughout the land of Un-

imagination, "Starbuck is dead. Long live Stardoe!"

I'm not sure if a cigar in the mouth of Stardoe resonates in the same

way it did in the mouth of Starbuck. Perhaps. Perhaps it "resonates"

more. Perhaps that's the point. I'm not sure. What I am sure of is

this…

Women are from Venus. Men are from Mars. Hamlet does not scan as

Hamletta. Nor does Han Solo as Han Sally. Faceman is not the same as

Facewoman. Nor does a Stardoe a Starbuck make. Men hand out cigars.

Women `hand out' babies. And thus the world, for thousands of years,

has gone round.

I am also sure that Show Business has been morphing for many decades

now and has finally become Biz Business. The creative artists have

lost and the Suits have won. Suits. Administrators. Technocrats.

Metro-sexual money-men (and women) who create formulas to guarantee

profit margins. Because movies and television shows are not made to

enlighten or even entertain but simply to make money. They will tell

you it is (still) about story and character but all it is really

about is efficiency. About The Formula. Because Harvard Business

School Technocrats run Hollywood and what Technocrats know is what

must be removed from all business is Risk. And I tell you life, real

life, is all about risk. I tell you that without risk you have no

creativity, no art. I tell you that without risk you have Remakes.

You have Charlie's Angels, The Saint, Mission Impossible, The A-Team

(coming soon) Battlestar Galactica. All risk-free brand names,

franchises.

For you see, TV Shows (and movies) are made and sold according to the

same business formula as hamburger franchises. So that it matters not

if the `best' hamburger, what matters is that you `think' it is the

best. And you do think it's the best, because you have been told to;

because all of your favourite celebrities are seen munching it on TV.

The big money is not spent on making the hamburger or the television

show, but on the marketing of the hamburger/show. (One 60-second

commercial can cost more than it does to film a one-hour episode.) It

matters not to Suits if it is Starbuck or Stardoe, if the Cylons are

robots or lingerie models, if the show is full of optimism and

morality or pessimism and amorality. What matters is that it is

marketed well, so that all you people out there in TV land know that

you must see this show. And after you see it, you are told that you

should like it. That it is new and bold and sleek and sexy and best

of all… it is Re-imagined!

So grab a Coke from the fridge (not the Classic Coke, but the re-

imagined kind with fewer calories) and send out for a McDonald's

Hamburger (the re-imagined one with fewer carbs) and tune in to

Stardoe and Cylon #6 (or was it #69?) and Enjoy The Show.

And if you don't enjoy the show, or the hamburger and coke, it's not

the fault of those re-imaginative technocrats that brought them to

you. It is your fault. You and your individual instincts, tastes,

judgement. Your refusal to let go of the memory of the show that once

was. You just don't know what is good for you. But stay tuned. After

another 13 episodes (and millions of dollar of marketing), you will

see the light. You, your instincts, your judgement, are wrong.

McDonald's is the best hamburger on the planet, Coca-Cola the best

drink. Stardoe is the best Viper Pilot in the Galaxy. And Battlestar

Galactica, contrary to what your memory tells you, never existed

before the Re-imagination of 2003.

I disagree. But perhaps, you had to be there.

Dirk Benedict, writing in Dreamwatch, May 2004