Motoko's Strength (Spoilers Added)
Posted: Sat Nov 18, 2006 9:58 pm
I was watching the SAC 2nd GIG Episode "Poker Face" the other day, and I noticed that the episode epitomized a few recurring characteristics:
1.) Ishikawa informs the "rookie" Batou of Motoko's tactical wisdom and extraordinary foresight in combat situations.
2.) Motoko defeats Saito with superb turn-of-the-moment skill.
There is a distinct trend I'm noticing throughout both seasons of the series in that Motoko is portrayed as an extremely powerful fighter and an almost clairvoyant investigator. And as a specialist in information warfare, she demonstrates the full capabilities of what one would call the perfect warrior. However, I have to wonder if Motoko's fighting prowess is strictly a thematic element within the series, or if it represents something far more embedded in what we call a "hero." This topic may sound like it belongs in the philosophy section, but it ties into too many other subjects to deal primarily with that area of study. Also, I'm more familiar with the SAC media than any other type of media, so it's going here.
I'm posing this argument as a question because I want an opinion from a generally civilian-based group. I've operated in many places and with many people who have varying opinions of what defines a plausible fighter, but there tends to be a bias toward the military know-how and jargon that comes with being a soldier.
First, Motoko herself possesses an excellent ability to determine the modus operandi of her opposition. In fact, given the nature of her tactics, I'd go so far as to say that she operates much like a real counter-terrorist in that her mode of operation is dependent on analyzing a set of contigencies rooted in pre-determined attack patterns. The thing that makes me scratch my head is not a question of realism (that'd take all day to ramble about), but of whether or not this functions as a well-made thematic element or a cliche for general audiences. If I were questioning her abilities in terms of realism, I'd tell you right off the bat that no real special forces, intelligence, counter-intelligence, or law enforcement group can or would operate in her manner. The reason why? Because she wouldn't be the only one working as good as she does; an enemy party would counteract her very quickly. We don't see this in SAC.
For example, there is an episode in the first season that involves a Russian free agent working in the human trafficking market. Like Motoko, she was a fully cyberized woman with extensive combat experience, so this could have made for an interesting battle. I honestly got pretty pumped up for the confrontation between her and Motoko, but she was quickly defeated by Motoko like any other stock "bad guy of the week." Again, realism set aside, it almost seems as though we are to be given the message that Motoko is nearly peerless as a combatant. We do see, however, a few moments where she almost bites the dust (the powered armor, the tank, a hand-to-hand battle with the South American freedom fighter, and so on). Despite these moments, Motoko manages not only to survive, but to excel.
Even when she is struck dead by a sniper, we later learn that it was her old damaged body. Shrewd, indeed, but doesn't that reduce the dramatic function of the story? I have to say that I wasn't surprised when she was shot, crushed under the foot of a powered suit, or nearly strangled by a man twice her size. I remember thinking to myself "eh...she'll be okay". This works well with visual and literary media because it allows an audience not to wonder IF the protagonist is going to survive but HOW (kind of like Rambo, Zatoichi, or James Bond). The problem I have with this device as a dramatic vehicle lies in the possibility that its excessive use can present the image of redundant invicibility in the protagonist. Examples of this can include the frequent (and often cliched) revival of dead characters in comic books and heroes who are the centerpiece of a kind of "monster of the week" format such as Goku in Dragonball Z or the Power Rangers. Fight. Get beaten up. Learn from mistake. Fight again. Win. Wash, rinse, repeat. You get the idea.
I don't think it's a coincidence that I was at the edge of my seat when Section 9 was almost destroyed, its members captured one by one. I do think it's odd, especially for me, to want to see the heroes in their moment of darkness when my professional life involves tragedy, injustice, and the absence of true "good guys". We often think of our favorite books, video games, and TV shows as a means of escape from our ugly little world, but seeing Motoko wipe the floor with so many enemies who could have sworn that they had the upper hand (remember the Chinese assassin?) gets to be a bit of a yawn after so many times. Not only that, but her fighting abilities and quick wits can sometimes produce the side effect of diluting the element of fear produced by her enemies. This can be good in times such as the terrifying NSS agent who was reduced to a whipering baby when Motoko launched series of .50 caliber BMG rounds into the chassis of his armor. It can also be bad in times such as the battle between her and Saito (realistic or not, snipers are not to be encountered at close range with the strategy she used). This is perhaps due to the emotional response she conveys in each battle. She is clearly vindictive and lacking in composure when she threatens the NSS agent. In contrast, Motoko is her typical, average stoic self when she rams a knife into Saito's hand. Her lack of fear in that fight didn't have me saying "wow, she's tough!" It was more along the lines of "Saito is screwed, just like everybody else. Big deal." Needless to say, the opposite effect came into being with the NSS agent.
I've met people like Kuze, who can scare the life out of you with their adamant stance in their political ideologies (and the combat skills to back it up). Those are the characters I enjoy because they give the protagonist something to strive for. I'm willing to bet that a battle between Kuze and Motoko would be extremely climatic due to the idea that the protagonist would have met her match at last. Instead, this fight occurs with Batou, and I have to say that it was the best fight scene I've seen in both seasons of the series. I had no idea that Batou would have his leg broken, or that Kuze would manage to escape on both feet. The need to see a vulnerable hero apparently draws upon the modern perspective of the "average joe" character or, better yet, the anti-hero. Motoko appears to be more of the latter as a modern convention, but it is a relatively extreme case of stoicism and fearlessness that can, if used too often as a plot device, rob an audience of their suspension of disbelief. It is true that retarding her character development can leave the series open for more episodes, but if the character herself is slowed down too much in terms of personal dynamics and idiosyncracies, she may be reduced to a flat character.
Most good novelists and English professors will tell you that a role like that is better suited for an antagonist unless the protagonist is designated as a flat character in order to open character development for the supporting characters. Again, I'm not seeing that here. Saito, Pazu, and Borma don't change because Motoko made a certain unusual remark. Batou might have shown a bit of jealousy toward Kuze (which could have propelled all three characters in another direction), but this opportunity is cast aside in the midst of the haste. Motoko's feelings for Kuze and Batou are repeatedly relegated to oblique dramatic elements, and this is fine for a politically charged drama, but I find (or catch) myself not caring after I see Motoko's stone-cold face as she barks orders or recites Socratic philosophy for the hundredth time. The best assumption I can make for her as a protagonist is that the writers are leaving out personal details to prolong the life of the series.
This is more of a personal response for me, but tell me what you all think. Do you agree? Disagree? Are you on the fence with this issue?
1.) Ishikawa informs the "rookie" Batou of Motoko's tactical wisdom and extraordinary foresight in combat situations.
2.) Motoko defeats Saito with superb turn-of-the-moment skill.
There is a distinct trend I'm noticing throughout both seasons of the series in that Motoko is portrayed as an extremely powerful fighter and an almost clairvoyant investigator. And as a specialist in information warfare, she demonstrates the full capabilities of what one would call the perfect warrior. However, I have to wonder if Motoko's fighting prowess is strictly a thematic element within the series, or if it represents something far more embedded in what we call a "hero." This topic may sound like it belongs in the philosophy section, but it ties into too many other subjects to deal primarily with that area of study. Also, I'm more familiar with the SAC media than any other type of media, so it's going here.
I'm posing this argument as a question because I want an opinion from a generally civilian-based group. I've operated in many places and with many people who have varying opinions of what defines a plausible fighter, but there tends to be a bias toward the military know-how and jargon that comes with being a soldier.
First, Motoko herself possesses an excellent ability to determine the modus operandi of her opposition. In fact, given the nature of her tactics, I'd go so far as to say that she operates much like a real counter-terrorist in that her mode of operation is dependent on analyzing a set of contigencies rooted in pre-determined attack patterns. The thing that makes me scratch my head is not a question of realism (that'd take all day to ramble about), but of whether or not this functions as a well-made thematic element or a cliche for general audiences. If I were questioning her abilities in terms of realism, I'd tell you right off the bat that no real special forces, intelligence, counter-intelligence, or law enforcement group can or would operate in her manner. The reason why? Because she wouldn't be the only one working as good as she does; an enemy party would counteract her very quickly. We don't see this in SAC.
For example, there is an episode in the first season that involves a Russian free agent working in the human trafficking market. Like Motoko, she was a fully cyberized woman with extensive combat experience, so this could have made for an interesting battle. I honestly got pretty pumped up for the confrontation between her and Motoko, but she was quickly defeated by Motoko like any other stock "bad guy of the week." Again, realism set aside, it almost seems as though we are to be given the message that Motoko is nearly peerless as a combatant. We do see, however, a few moments where she almost bites the dust (the powered armor, the tank, a hand-to-hand battle with the South American freedom fighter, and so on). Despite these moments, Motoko manages not only to survive, but to excel.
Even when she is struck dead by a sniper, we later learn that it was her old damaged body. Shrewd, indeed, but doesn't that reduce the dramatic function of the story? I have to say that I wasn't surprised when she was shot, crushed under the foot of a powered suit, or nearly strangled by a man twice her size. I remember thinking to myself "eh...she'll be okay". This works well with visual and literary media because it allows an audience not to wonder IF the protagonist is going to survive but HOW (kind of like Rambo, Zatoichi, or James Bond). The problem I have with this device as a dramatic vehicle lies in the possibility that its excessive use can present the image of redundant invicibility in the protagonist. Examples of this can include the frequent (and often cliched) revival of dead characters in comic books and heroes who are the centerpiece of a kind of "monster of the week" format such as Goku in Dragonball Z or the Power Rangers. Fight. Get beaten up. Learn from mistake. Fight again. Win. Wash, rinse, repeat. You get the idea.
I don't think it's a coincidence that I was at the edge of my seat when Section 9 was almost destroyed, its members captured one by one. I do think it's odd, especially for me, to want to see the heroes in their moment of darkness when my professional life involves tragedy, injustice, and the absence of true "good guys". We often think of our favorite books, video games, and TV shows as a means of escape from our ugly little world, but seeing Motoko wipe the floor with so many enemies who could have sworn that they had the upper hand (remember the Chinese assassin?) gets to be a bit of a yawn after so many times. Not only that, but her fighting abilities and quick wits can sometimes produce the side effect of diluting the element of fear produced by her enemies. This can be good in times such as the terrifying NSS agent who was reduced to a whipering baby when Motoko launched series of .50 caliber BMG rounds into the chassis of his armor. It can also be bad in times such as the battle between her and Saito (realistic or not, snipers are not to be encountered at close range with the strategy she used). This is perhaps due to the emotional response she conveys in each battle. She is clearly vindictive and lacking in composure when she threatens the NSS agent. In contrast, Motoko is her typical, average stoic self when she rams a knife into Saito's hand. Her lack of fear in that fight didn't have me saying "wow, she's tough!" It was more along the lines of "Saito is screwed, just like everybody else. Big deal." Needless to say, the opposite effect came into being with the NSS agent.
I've met people like Kuze, who can scare the life out of you with their adamant stance in their political ideologies (and the combat skills to back it up). Those are the characters I enjoy because they give the protagonist something to strive for. I'm willing to bet that a battle between Kuze and Motoko would be extremely climatic due to the idea that the protagonist would have met her match at last. Instead, this fight occurs with Batou, and I have to say that it was the best fight scene I've seen in both seasons of the series. I had no idea that Batou would have his leg broken, or that Kuze would manage to escape on both feet. The need to see a vulnerable hero apparently draws upon the modern perspective of the "average joe" character or, better yet, the anti-hero. Motoko appears to be more of the latter as a modern convention, but it is a relatively extreme case of stoicism and fearlessness that can, if used too often as a plot device, rob an audience of their suspension of disbelief. It is true that retarding her character development can leave the series open for more episodes, but if the character herself is slowed down too much in terms of personal dynamics and idiosyncracies, she may be reduced to a flat character.
Most good novelists and English professors will tell you that a role like that is better suited for an antagonist unless the protagonist is designated as a flat character in order to open character development for the supporting characters. Again, I'm not seeing that here. Saito, Pazu, and Borma don't change because Motoko made a certain unusual remark. Batou might have shown a bit of jealousy toward Kuze (which could have propelled all three characters in another direction), but this opportunity is cast aside in the midst of the haste. Motoko's feelings for Kuze and Batou are repeatedly relegated to oblique dramatic elements, and this is fine for a politically charged drama, but I find (or catch) myself not caring after I see Motoko's stone-cold face as she barks orders or recites Socratic philosophy for the hundredth time. The best assumption I can make for her as a protagonist is that the writers are leaving out personal details to prolong the life of the series.
This is more of a personal response for me, but tell me what you all think. Do you agree? Disagree? Are you on the fence with this issue?