SF writers often imagine sapient extraterrestrials/nonhumans who are not even vaguely humanoid in form. (Just page through Barlowe’s Guide to Extraterrestrials – http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0894803247/qid=1134941520/sr=8-2/ref=pd_bbs_2/104-5532340-1345538?n=507846&s=books&v=glance.) In TV and the movies, OTOH, ET characters are almost always, to all outward appearances, human or humanoid. Like Spock, or Mollari. Mainly this is because they have only human actors to work with and they have to get the actors into their suits. Nowadays, that’s not so much of a problem, since they can create a character with CGI; they could make a character in practically any form. Nevertheless, I’m not hopeful about seeing a movie or TV show where any of the main characters are, say, Mesklinites (Hal Clement’s Mission of Gravity) or cheela (Robert Forward’s Dragon’s Egg.) The reason is, an audience has to be able to form an emotional connection with a character, in order to care about the story. And I think that is possible only if the character has basic humanoid characteristics – in particular, a definite face, with two eyes set above a mouth (nose optional), and enough mobility to form recognizable facial expressions. It’s possible to form a connection with a non-humanoid in a book, because as a reader you make a much greater investment in time and the author can take you right inside a character’s mind. But how could it be done in a movie?
I also note that UFO cultists/believers/whatever generally assume that real-life extraterrestrials are humanoid in form – e.g., the Greys. Would they still have the same interest in Making Contact with an intelligent being that looked like a sea anemone?
It is probably relevant here that human sentimentality about animals is pretty much limited to vertebrates. Environmental activists might try to preserve an engangered species of wasp because it plays a vital role in a local ecosystem, but they won’t try to base any emotional appeal on it, or put its picture on their posters. You need a baby seal for that.
I offer the Horta from classic Trek’s “Devil in the Dark” episode as counterpoint to your theory. Who can’t identify with a mother trying to save her children, regardless of whether she has a mouth and eyes?
One episode is one thing, but just imagine trying to make a horta a continuing character. Since the horta are a sapient lifeform, within the Federation, one might have expected to see a few slithering about the Enterprise (with com-badges and rank insignia glued to their shells) in ST:TNG, but we never did. Never saw any non-humanoids to speak of, did we?
Humanoid enough for the purpose, yes. We’ve gotten used to the idea that a dragon can be a character – as in Dragonheart. But can you imagine doing the same with, say, a kraken/giant squid? And at least squids have two eyes.
Although it did use human representations in an attempt to communicate, Solaris* in the end proved to be so alien that there was no reference to ever understand the alien intelligence. Nevertheless, he was a huge character in the novel and movies.
So are you positing that a continuing character cannot be non-humanoid? Does it have to be a regular character? Can it be recurring? Does it need to have lines, or can it just be seen in the background? What are your ground rules for this thread?
How about Moya and Talyn from Farscape? Not speaking roles (with one or two exceptions) but both are sentient creatures with motives that affect the rest of the characters.
Well, that points up the difference. The Pilot is a character. Moya is not a character, not really, except in the very limited sense that Charlie’s offscreen presence in Charlie’s Angels constituted a “character”; and at least Charlie had a human voice.
The question is, what are the ground rules for Hollywood? If you’re a producer considering pitches for film projects, and, like Tim Robbins’ character in The Player, you “can only say ‘yes’ twelve times a year,” and you have to decide whether to make a movie out of Mission of Gravity, will you even consider the project, knowing that every character in the story will look like a giant centipede?
…I would beg to differ. Moya was very much a character in the programme, and fits your criteria almost to the T. In the few episodes of Farscape I saw, when Moya was hurt, it was painful to watch. You are looking for “alien” characters, claim that Moya isn’t one because you don’t “see” her, yet she is in nearly every frame of the series. She is about as alien as alien can get. Moya is a former slave, a mother, and a protector. From Sci-fi.com:
Until recently, of course, there were certain technical issues with non-humanoid characters, as well. They still cost more, but are reasonably doable at this point.
Does anyone else remember the short movie of the desk lamps? I think it was by Pixar before they became a real studio. Basically, two lamps playing with a ball. One was maternal and the other childlike. No faces, no googly eyes, no nothin’ even sentient or animal looking about them. I cried at the end of it, though.
It’s possible to tell a story with a non-humanoid and create pathos, but it’s expensive. Or expensiver, at least. CGI to create a main character is still not cheap.
I think the real problem is that it’s a creative challenge. To pull it off, you have to forget everything you’ve learned from 2+ millennia of dramatic presentation. And even then, you’ll probably be tempted to cheat, to have your “alien” characters exhibit recognizable emotions and use recognizable turns of phrase. Even in SF books, creating a truly alien species/culture, one whose values and assumptions and motivations and thought-patterns are completely different from humans’, is widely recognized as a real challenge, and not all attempts are considered successful.
I would argue that no matter what physical form the character has, it’s doable. The only barriers to it being a good character are (as usual) the writing.
Identifying with a character means percieving and feeling that it has the same perception of the world as we do. We do this in real life by way of symbolic gestures, namely facial expressions and body language, vocal expression and intonation, and vocabulary. But sharing our view of the world is key.
WhyNot’s example illustrates my point. I remember that short, and I remember the lamps would tilt their carapaces such that it was clear that that’s where they were looking. In this way the boys (and/or girls) over at Pixar helped us to see the lightbulb as the “face,” and imagine that the lamp has the same focus, directions, and feelings as we did, such as when the smaller lamp looked crestfallen just by tilting its “head” downward, because it had just done something bad. As I said above, the requisite gestures are completely symbolic, so a simple downward movement can be enough, as long as the context is such that it is feeling crestfallen about something we would also feel crestfallen about in the same situation.
A character can be completely human physically, but if s/he, for example, punches other characters in the stomach when they say something funny, instead of laughing, we’re going to have a hard time identifying with that.
To sum up, there are two things a character must do in order to be a character with which we can identify:
Share at least a significant fraction of our worldview.
Possess any physical form that allows the character to make the symbolic gestures that communicate within that worldview.
In the first season of Babylon 5, there was a crime lord recurring character living in Down Below which looked like a giant preying mantis. And in later seasons, the Shadows also look insectoid, without humanoid faces. Though I suppose it’s debateable how much either counts as a “character”.