ScottD: We’re keeping the foot on the gas in our ongoing Big Damn Discussion of the Firefly series. And I am delighted that the three-sided die fell my way to start the review for this particular episode, though I have to say right off that it is a bittersweet experience.
Why the bitter with the sweet? Because I feel that “Out of Gas” is one of the best episodes in the whole series, and what’s more an indication of what the show might have become if it had been allowed to reach its stride and become the Big Damn Series that it deserved to be. So, as much I enjoy this episode, it is the one that most gets me saltily diluting my beer as I think again about What Might Have Been.
ScottP: This is easily my favorite episode of the series, and one that contains several moments that actually cause me to get all choked up and wussified — even after seeing it multiple times. That said, I’m discovering something strange as we go through these episodes: the more I like a particular episode, the less stuff I have to say about it. But I’m with ScottD on this — “Out of Gas” is so goddamn good that it’s heartbreaking to watch, thinking about where Whedon and Co. could have gone with the show.
ScottD: “Out of Gas” is a simple premise with a complicated presentation. Poor Serenity suffers a breakdown that shuts down not only her main engine but also what backups there are. Life support is out, they are of course pursuing an “off the map” course, and the crew is faced with some hard decisions. And as those decisions are chewed upon, we jump around through three different time frames and learn more about how the crew came together.
One of the reasons this episode works so well is that is almost swollen with trust. It is obvious that the director trusts the actors to bring out their characters, the actors trust the writers to give them good material, the writers trust the actors to do the lines justice (as the actors trust one another to deliver the lines well), and the director and editors trust the viewers to follow the shifting time frames. This is a level of trust you generally don’t see until well into a show’s second season.
Another reason this episode stands out is that it was written by Tim Minear. We talk a lot about Joss Whedon in these reviews, but Tim Minear is a powerful force of his own, often working in the Whedonverse and working as writer and/or director on many episodes of different series (Strange World, Angel, Wonderfalls, Dollhouse) and as executive producer of Firefly. He brought insight and a practiced deftness to this script, but also a splash of daring.
That Serenity could be “out of gas” points up what we have been shown many times already in the series: life on “the raggedy edge” is precarious, which makes a sense of security or safety even more precious. The calamity that befalls the ship should not have resulted in a life-threatening situation, but their subsistence lifestyle does not allow for luxuries like spare parts or redundant backups for life support. In fact, the problem that our crew faces was presaged in the very first episode, “Serenity”, when folks are disembarking at the Eavesdown Docks and talking about getting supplies:
Kaylee: I’d sure love to find a brand new compression coil for the steamer.
Mal: And I’d like to be king of all Londinium and wear a shiny hat. Just get us some passengers. Them as can pay, all right?
Kaylee: Compression coil busts, we’re drifting.
Mal: Best not bust, then.
To drive the threat home, it was referred to again in “The Train Job”. Mal finds the engine room a spaghetti-wire mess, and finds Kaylee in Inara’s shuttle:
Mal: You’re holding my mechanic in thrall and Kaylee what the hell is going on in the engine room? Were there monkeys? Some terrifying space monkeys that maybe got loose?
Kaylee: No monkeys, mister funny — I had to rewire the grav-thrust because somebody won’t replace that crappy compression coil.
Besides giving us the “space monkeys” line — a bit you are sure to hear referenced anytime Browncoats get together — this scene reminded us again that even for all of Kaylee’s insightful and loving care, Serenity is always one step from being inert because of our crew’s bare-bones budget.
The fact that the threat of breakdown was announced in the very first episode and brought back to mind later shows the big-picture long-term approach of the show’s creators, and is another indication of all of the things That Might Have Been. What other seeds were planted in the early episodes, that never bore fruit? We’ve certainly left a string of enemies behind us, to pop up again as needed. But what other bits did Whedon, Molina, and Minear have in mind that we might have seen in a second or third season, that had their roots in the early episodes?
“Out of Gas” neatly references the compression coil:
Mal: I’m not looking for a ride, Captain. Just a little push.
Walden Captain: Right. Your mechanical trouble. Compression coil, you say?
Mal: It was the catalyzer.
Walden Captain: Not even the coil? Catalyzer’s a nothing part, Captain.
Mal: It’s nothing until you ain’t got one. Then it appears to be everything.
So after all of the setup about the compression coil it is an even more humble, “nothing”, part that lays Serenity low. A nice bit of misdirection.
Tanzi: I didn’t remember the specific part but I do remember the foreshadowing so it was nice to see the payoff. Coming from an IT background I was a little surprised at the lack of spares but I suppose it would have made for a short episode if Kaylee put in a spare and RMA’d the faulty part.
ScottP: It seems like someone (Craig Butler, maybe? If not, I apologize for callin’ you out, Craig) recently griped to me about it being sort of unrealistic for the crew not to be carrying a spare for that particular part. Now, I realize my life isn’t quite as dependent on such things but there are plenty of highly important parts in my old Jeep Wagoneer that I don’t carry spares for and the loss of any one of those would leave me adrift.
ScottD: ScottP has mentioned several times that he would like to spend time sitting around Serenity’s big common-room table with the crew, or at the very least see more scenes with that kind of homey non-action. And Minear delivers that, with an extended scene around the table that is around Simon’s birthday party.
ScottP: Yeah, this sittin’ around the table scene is a favorite of mine. And again, there’s a great Zoe/Wash comfortable-married-couple moment, a complete throwaway that we cut to and away from very quickly: Zoe — proud warrior woman — is resting her head on her husband’s shoulder. Just a tiny bit but as with so many of those moments in Firefly, it speaks volumes. I can’t help but wonder if something like that was scripted or was merely a choice on the part of Gina Torres. Either way, good stuff.
ScottD: Minear uses a device here (which, he reveals in the commentary track for the episode, he is fond of using regardless of the project) where each of the character’s basics are restated: it is mentioned that Simon is a doctor and a fugitive, that Wash and Zoe are married, Book is a preacher, etc. Minear says that he feels it is a good idea to do this periodically, to help ground folks who have just tuned in to the series. (ScottP tells me this device is also often used by comic book writers, over long story arcs.)
Another thing this scene does is to show us the crew as family; even Jayne and Simon are for the moment getting along,
and Mal allows himself a little fatherly smile that the family is together.
All of which raises the stakes — the more the crew laugh together, the more it exaggerates what they might lose due to the coming threat.
Director of photography David Boyd added not only ambiance but also some visual cues that we are in flashback by shooting the scenes from the past on color-reversal film, which gives a very saturated “summery” look to everything.
Care was taken that Mal looks younger in these scenes, with a slightly different haircut. But honors for bringing out the past have to go to Wash’s mustache, which was evidently a choice insisted upon by Alan Tudyk. (And referenced in a blooper reel scene I need to track down — reportedly, when Wash turns around Mal and Zoe are wearing similar mustaches.)
Tanzi: The mustache was indeed an inspired choice. I got a kick out of Zoe’s instant dislike of Wash. She couldn’t come up with a specific reason but you know that horrible soup strainer gave her the creeps.
ScottP: Yeah, I think it was the ‘stash, too.
ScottD: Something to watch for here are the nice transitions between the flashbacks and the present-moment scenes. Many times there are visual references, lighting & positions of people, that link the before with the now, like Mal with his hands up for the Walden crew and then for the flashback with Jayne. This is evidence of some very slick directing and editing, but what is more is an indication of the overall care the production crew brought to this show. Anecdotes abound regarding how everyone involved in Firefly, from scripting to costuming, from lighting to sound, from directing to editing, cared very strongly about putting out high-quality product. But we don’t have to turn to anecdotal evidence, the proof is right there on the screen — this is a bunch of people happy to be on board the project and doing quality work. And I have to ask again: if the production crew was turning out work this sweet after only a few episodes of working together, what would they have given us after they got a chance to really learn each other’s dance moves?
Speaking of moving around in time, there is a wonderful little bit that shows the influence joining our crew has had on Jayne. In the splendid flashback sequence where we first meet Jayne he is even cruder than we know him to be, and prominently dirty. Yet in the birthday party sequence he is wearing a napkin, and cleaning his teeth! Rudely at the table, of course, but still something the old Jayne likely would have never thought to do.
Tanzi: I was hoping we’d see Jayne with his old partner from the Jaynestown heist but instead we get a couple of generic dirtbags. Later in the episode, when air is running out and Mal is arguing with Wash, Jayne tells them to stop fighting and wasting oxygen. You know you’re in deep shit when Jayne is the voice of reason.
ScottD: You know you’re in deep shit when Jayne is the voice of reason. OK, that one’s going in my quote file. You made me spew my tea!
ScottP: I also like that, despite their sometimes adversarial relationship, Jayne’s concern for Mal is obvious when the crew is leaving him behind — Jayne’s comment that he prepped a suit for the Captain and the look on Adam Baldwin’s face as he turns to leave are nice bits.
ScottD: In “Our Mrs. Reynolds” we got to see more of Serenity as a ship and as a character in the series. That is continued in this episode; Kaylee speaks of the ship as a person that she has let down:
"I shoulda kept better care of her. Usually she lets me know when something's wrong. Maybe she did and I wasn't paying attention."
Serenity may be petite as spaceships go, but as Mal makes his way through her she seems very large indeed, large and echoingly empty.
ScottP: For some reason, seeing Serenity drifting in space with debris floating around her really gets to me, as does the final shot in the episode.
ScottD: Another thing that gets me thinking about What Might Have Been is how this episode brings us interaction with another crew. We get the idea that there are lots of crews like ours out there, salvaging & scavenging, scraping by, doing whatever is necessary to make it through. But obviously some crews are more ruthless than others:
When there was talk of doing a series of tie-in novels for Firefly, I had several ideas for books to pitch. One involved our crew working with another ship to do a job, only it turns into an us-or-them situation. The heartbreaking part is that the two crews are very similar, in some ways mirror images, so having to destroy the other ship is almost like destroying Serenity. The crew of the S.S. Walden is a lot like what I had in mind. I think the gun-toting femme might be a female version of Jayne, and my oh my wouldn’t we like to see how that played out? Lots of ships out there, lots of opportunity for stories.
And then of course there is the “first meeting” scene with Kaylee. I’ll say it again: Kaylee is so sweetly innocently honestly sexual that she is a breath of fresh air in a smoky female ‘verse. She is the antithesis of all the anguished self-doubting or predatory and manipulative femmes we so often see on TV; in fact, whenever I happen upon an episode of Sex and the City — a show which I have advanced beyond dislike to actual resentment, for the trips it lays on women about how they have to act to be happy — I think of sweet glad-to-be-alive Kaylee as a counterbalance and antidote to that show’s subtle poisons.
Tanzi: Wow, that was quite an entrance for Kaylee. Sweet little Kaylee, boning space Spicoli in the engine room. I thought they laid it on a little thick with Kaylee never having been on a ship before but I understand the need to establish her as a mechanical savant with a few lines.
ScottP: I like that Jewel Staite didn’t play Kaylee as particularly embarrassed in this scene, just a little shy — and not so shy that she isn’t quick to point out how wrong space Spicoli is about Serenity‘s engine. And Kaylee makes some mighty nice grunts and squeals, not for nuthin’.
ScottP: I feel compelled to mention that eight episodes into the series, I still have yet to spot the far-fabled “Han Solo in Carbonite” that’s apparently hidden in each and every episode.
ScottD: I may have to turn in my brown coat, but — I’ve never spotted it either. I always tell myself to watch for it, then I get so caught up in the story I forget. And I refuse to hit a fansite that lists them — I’m gonna earn ‘em all honest like.
“Tell you what — you buy this ship, treat her proper, she’ll be with you the rest of your life.”























Bwahahahahaha space spicoli!
Definitely one of my favorite episodes. A perfect mix of stylistic filmmaking and character development. I’m really glad for the characters that they decided to do this episode early so we could get all this juicy context for them.
There’s really nothing to criticize about the episode from a storytelling standpoint, but this is the perfect episode to digress into a mini-rant about the unrealistic portrayal of technology in the show. Absolutely nothing about the way the ship malfunctions makes any sense.
Now, I’ll be the first to acknowledge that Joss & Co. focus on the characters and stories, which is what makes the series great in the first place. And from a dramatic point of view, all the engine room really needs to be is a place for Kaylee to be adorably grease-stained. That said, the giant rotary engine that looks salvaged directly from a Fokker triplane makes absolutely no sense. Its resemblance to an internal combustion engine is no doubt meant to give it an “enginey” feel, but how exactly does it drive the ship? It seems to somehow run both the atmospheric jet engines and the firefly-butt main drive, but how? Is it just a crazy diesel generator? Apparently it’s something like that, because there’s fuel in it that can violently explode!
What I’d love to see in a show like this would be something simultaneously more realistic and more currently relevant – for example, an advanced version of the VASIMIR system would be sweet. It’s a real space engine – one is going to be attached to the ISS for station-keeping purposes in the next few years – and, in theory, could be scaled up dramatically with appropriate power input. Say, for example, a Polywell fusion reactor. Such a system is realistic enough that it’d be easy to work it into plots realistically and keep its functioning consistent.
Okay, that aside, there’s another issue. Just because your engine explodes in space doesn’t mean you stop moving. Quite the opposite, in fact – you’d keep going at the speed you were going when propulsion stopped, modified slightly by gravitational effects etc. There’s a great episode of Cowboy Bebop – I think it’s “Mushroom Samba” – where the ship runs out of fuel because they couldn’t afford enough, and the result is that the crew has to sit around and wait while their momentum carries them the rest of the way. A ship like Serenity would be moving fast – even on a roundabout journey. New Horizons is shooting across space at over 16 km/s and its trip to Pluto is still taking nine years. Ships that are moving people around a big star system in the course of days or weeks would be moving really, really amazingly fast, even once their engine stopped.
In fact, a far more realistic danger scenario for such a ship might be that their engine fails, giving them no way to slow down when they reach their destination. Given that they must be traveling much faster than the planet they’re going to is orbiting its star, without putting on the brakes they’d shoot right by it, very likely on a trajectory to literally nowhere – they’d be moving way faster than solar escape velocity. Bad, bad news.
Now, even all that aside, the notion of “life support” is a continually abused one in sci-fi. Star Trek is a particularly egregious offender in this area, and this episode of Firefly follows that pedigree. “Life support” – meaning, apparently, keeping the air breathable and warm but not artificial gravity, is always somehow a thing that stops operating when it loses power. Tying your life support directly to the engine is really poor engineering – are there no batteries in the future?
Okay, so, when talking about the atmosphere inside a space ship, there are two major issues – filtering carbon dioxide out of the air, and generating oxygen. Both are issues that have been dealt with for over a hundred years in mines, submarines, airplanes, etc., not to mention spacecraft. Even here in the 21st century there are simple chemical systems that even a fancy spaceship of the future would probably carry as emergency supplies. CO2 is very problematic, because it makes up less than 1% of the Earth’s atmosphere, and we’re not designed to deal with it in any quantity. If levels rise to only a few percent of what you’re breathing, it becomes very poisonous. Fortunately, there are substances like soda lime and lithium hydroxide that very efficiently scrubs it from the air, without requiring any power to do so (other than, arguably, fans to keep the air circulating past the scrubber). Special shout-out is owed to Stargate: Universe, the first and only spaceship-based show to deal with carbon scrubbing as a major issue.
Oxygen generation can also be accomplished in a variety of ways, but for the sake of this argument I’m willing to assume the oxygen generator may require power to operate. However, in case that ever failed for any reason, I’d like to point out oxygen candles, which when ignited release oxygen at a steady rate, and have been used in mines, ships and firefighting since the 19th century. Surely any spaceship would have emergency supplies of stuff like this to be considered at all habitable.
All this detail is ignoring the fact that the intrepid crew still had two operational shuttles with independent life support systems, and a robust supply of spacesuits with built-in rebreathers. They could just camp out in the shuttles, using the suits to retrieve supplies from the main ship and attempt repairs while waiting for rescue. Speaking of repairs, I’ll make this my last quibble:
My dad used to have a 1984 Bronco, and that year had a particularly troublesome ignition module. It tended to fail catastrophically every 30-50 thousand miles, a dangerous liability in an off-road vehicle that might leave you stranded in the godforsaken desert. The ignition module wasn’t that expensive a part, so he just carried a new one in the truck at all times, just in case.
Having never spent much time around ships, I can’t speak on this with authority, but it seems to me that on a tramp steamer making long trips out of sight of land and unable (or unwilling) to rely on rescue by the authorities, having spare parts, tools, and a machine shop on board to make it possible to fix the ship would be an absolute requirement. “Sometimes a thing that’s broke can’t be fixed” should not be in the engineer’s paradigm. Casting off into deep space without basic capabilities for repairing and replacing critical parts would be nothing less than suicide. I give this more of a pass than the other critiques, because cases of ships having to be abandoned due to engine failures are pretty common. In fact, wasn’t there recently a big cruise ship that was stuck adrift for a week or two without lights and hot water thanks to engine failure? So, it happens. But, to me it’s telling that the ship that eventually answers Mal’s distress call does happen to have the exact part he needs on hand. That at least proves that there are some crews out there that prepare wisely for the dangers of space travel.
None of this prevents me from enjoying the episode, which is very well-crafted. But whenever I watch it, I can’t help but wonder at the criminally negligent lack of basic emergency supplies and common sense aboard Serenity, and that little crack in the suspension of disbelief prevents this from being my very favorite episode of the series.
Man, you always bring up good points.
There are quite a few here that I wanted to address in the post, but my stuff always goes wordy and besides I sorta figured you would get to them.
The technology stuff was a big part of it.
You laid everything out very nicely so I won’t repeat the details, but the two biggest problems are the antigrav and the momentum. Newton’s First Law of Motion, “An object in motion tends to stay in motion unless acted upon by an outside force” is especially true in a vacuum, and I don’t think the gout of flame Mal released into space (now there’s an image!) would be sufficient “outside force” to counter between-planet speeds and put us dead in space. And as for the antigrav — or “artigrav”, artificial gravity, might be more to the point, though it is hard to think of a technology that could reproduce gravity that could not be turned around to repel gravity — we were shown in the first episode that it was variable (for which read, powered) and not inherent, and I have to think that the artigrav system would draw a lot more power than life support.
So how come they are dead in the water, running out of air, but not drifting around? Because (as you acknowledged) it is essential for the drama of the story. Could they have come up with some other problem, as you suggest? Sure. But I think the metaphor of poor li’l Serenity motionless in space was too much to resist.
As you point out, the chemical and mechanical means of atmosphere management have been worked out for a couple of centuries now. To accept the peril that the crew is in, is to accept that they have none of the many backup systems possible, and to accept that we have to accept that they operate on a near-suicidal shoestring maintenance, in a state just short of such a catastrophic failure. Joss & Co. obviously want us to accept this premise.
The problem is that when we talk about gravity and momentum and air processing we are thinking science-fictionally. But Firefly is not really a science fiction show — it is a science fiction-y western-y kind of drama show. There are some nice bits that show that people considered the science (silence during the space scenes is a standout) but overall the science of the fiction is way secondary. So they pull bloopers that they wouldn’t get away with in any real SF context.
The “Out of Gas/Air” scenario has been examined in SF stories since the 1950s, with all sorts of clever solutions envisioned. One that leaps to mind is the fact that CO2 and oxygen have different freezing points — if Kaylee is such a clever and intuitive engineer (who, we have been told, distills booze with engine equipment) she could rig up some piping into space to separate the gasses. Plus any number of other fixes appropriate to her abilities.
But again, as you said, it’s about the drama and not the science. As much as I love the show I have to sometimes mutter through gritted teeth, “I am willing to suspend my disbelief to be so well entertained.” I remember, the first time I saw this episode, actually saying out loud, “so the ship just stops when the engine turns off?” And then later: “A ship that big chilled down that fast?”
You mention that the Walden just happens to have the part. Their captain mentions that they are returning from a salvage operation and that is why the part is on hand. Which implies two things: that poor ol’ Serenity, and ships like her, are really most appropriate as salvage, and that the crew of the Walden are more successful than our crew — more successful because they have the luxury to have spare parts but also more successful because they are more ruthless. If Mal were more ruthless (like not returning the medicine on Paradiso) they would have the coin to keep the ship up better. Mal likes to think of himself as a hard practical man, but he many times lets a sense of honor or nobility take precedence over common sense and self-interest. His ship’s near-calamitous near-destitution, while admittedly neglectful, is a constant reminder that he puts nobility above self-preservation. Though of course he drags his crew along in that peril…