Serenity & How I Overhyped Myself

And now it is well and truly over.

I have watched everything there is to watch relating to Captain Malcolm Reynolds and the crew of the Firefly class frigate Serenity, consumed every extra and hung on every word of wisdom that escaped Joss Whedon’s lips on his commentaries.

I’m sorry to say that I think I overdid it on the expectations for Serenity, which I just watched today.

Having heard of it, and, more importantly, read the reactions by fans of the show in regards to it, I went into this film with extremely, extremely, extremely high expectations. I went into it not expecting anything short of The Greatest Movie, Nay, The Greatest Single Experience Of My Entire Life And Perhaps That Of Our Species And Possibly Plane Of Existence, Rewriting Our Very Notions Of Good.

Instead, what I got was a really great, enjoyable movie, which was enormously disappointing because I was convinced I would be transformed as a human being after watching it, and instead was highly entertained, a far cry from experiencing a shift in consciousness so profound it pushes you up a couple of rungs on the evolutionary ladder.

It’s really a shame, because I do like the movie, but I feel slightly let down by the fact that it wasn’t mindblowing beyond all reason as I’d been led to believe. I think I’ve discovered one of the major dangers of Believing The Hype in this sense, because what I was hoping for, really, was the same sense of delighted surprise I first got upon watching Battlestar Galactica, where I went into it mostly blind, having only heard a few positive responses here and there. The show itself convinced me, not the buzz surrounding it. Unfortunately, having trolled through the Battlestar Galactica forums–and other forums–in the mean time, everything I’d heard about this movie made it out to be quite possibly the most important event in human history, and in the end, I foolishly went into the film expecting it to be just that, rather than what it is; a damn good film.

Perhaps it’s because I’m a writer and not a “dedicated audience” member. Or maybe I’m just getting too jaded and cynical in my old age, or perhaps once again, it’s just being old. But the movie didn’t change my life for the better as so many have claimed it did for them. My experience of it, while positive was a shallow thing; simple enjoyment. I’ll always appreciate it for that, and I certainly treasure some of the lines, some of the moments, and in particular some of the shocks (I mean come on, Wash? Why, Joss, WHY?!?) but for whatever reason, I can’t count myself among the Browncoats or other fans that can point to this as a juncture and life-altering point in their lives. I either lack the vision, courage or faith to let this film take me to that place.

And though this is probably a blasphemy as far as True Fans are concerned, I actually still prefer the television series. It seemed to me that the events of this film were key moments that Whedon–had Firefly not been cancelled–would have ladeled out sparingly, making them far more effective as key points over the course of an ongoing narrative, rather than compress them all into the span of a feature length film. Despite the fact that this had a bigger budget, better lighting and some truly insane steadi-cam one takes, the overall impact of this story would have been better served in an episodic format, giving everyone more time to develop and giving the audience more time to really get dark with Mal and then cheer him on when he finds his purpose.

So for me the lesson learned here is whenever possible, go into a film with minimal to no expectations. Getting caught in the wave of hype will create an expectation in your head no movie can possibly live up to. I like this movie. I really like it. But I’m still pissed it didn’t bring me to Nirvana as I’d been led to believe.