One of the more common stereotypes about anime is that it’s filled with perverted fanservice. Of course, shows like Samurai Girls and Rio Rainbow Gate partially support this stereotype, but I don’t get why it’s such a big deal. I mean, modern American culture is just as hyper-sexualized as Japanese culture. Perhaps our tastes are different: for example, Americans tend to frown on lolicon and incest, whereas Japan seems to have an aversion towards the “butch women” fantasy. But, at the end of the day, the entertainment mediums of live-action TV and anime are more alike than most of us realize. For example, there’s an American show that was utterly trashed by gratuitous fanservice. It’s called Battlestar Galactica.
I’m not referring to the cheesy 1978 pulpfest starring Richard Hatch. To be frank, that incarnation of BSG never had many redeeming qualities to begin with. No, I’m talking about Ronald D. Moore’s infamous 2003 reboot. I was initially very optimistic about this show, despite my dislike of Moore’s work on Deep Space Nine. What intrigued me was Moore’s manifesto for the show: he wanted to make it a pioneer of “naturalistic science fiction.” It was a bold concept… sci-fi based on the practical instead of the fantastic. BSG was intended to be a hyperrealistic, down-to-earth show featuring hard science and believable characters. No archetypes, no technobabble, and above all no deus-ex-machina. It sounded like the sci-fi show we had all been waiting for.
Those of you who slogged through four seasons of BSG know that the final result didn’t live up to those high expectations. The writers assumed the veneer of hard science fiction, but quickly resorted to tired sci-fi tropes, psuedo-religious nonsense and technobabble. The supposedly realistic characters devolved into soap-opera stereotypes, making it much more of a “who’s sleeping with who” story than a gritty sci-fi one. But worst of all was the constant, incessant fanservice. The show took every possible excuse to show women in scanty outfits. Hell, one of the iconic images of the series is the Cylon Caprica Six wearing a low-cut red dress, tailor made to appeal to us lonely nerd types. Her half-exposed boobs even grace multiple incarnations of BSG’s DVD art, just like many an anime box set. And that’s not to mention the constant, reprehensible barrage of sex scenes. Yes, my dear readers, BSG is America’s version of Highschool of the Dead: a promising concept ruined by endless fanservice.
BSG apologists often claim that the show is a mature, nuanced depiction of adult sexual relationships. To that, I say “bull.” In the first twenty minutes of the miniseries alone, there are no less than FOUR entirely pointless sex/deep kissing/groping scenes, which do nothing to further plot or character development. There’s even one point at which the attractive female officer Anastasia Dualla kisses Billy Keikeya, totally out of the blue. There’s no lead-in or follow-up to that scene… she just walks up to him in the corridor, frenches him, and walks away. If that scene had served to establish something about her character (impulsiveness, promiscuity, etc.) then it would have been excusable. But they never follow up on this! Because of bad writing, Dualla never develops a worthwhile character, instead just functioning as a social butterfly and sex toy for the main cast until she blows her brains out for no good reason. This is just one example though… pretty much every female under thirty is portrayed as horny and sex-obsessed. At one point, Starbuck (using the series’ nerdy euphemism for the f-word) actually says the line “I just want to frak.” And frak she does, again and again.
Even the ostensibly mechanical antagonists, the Cylons, aren’t free from this sex obsession. One of the major points of the show is the Cylons’ ability to perfectly mimic human form, down to blood and organs. They use this to create infiltrators, sleeper agents and suicide bombers for their assault against humanity. Naturally, every female bio-Cylon is ridiculously attractive and sexualized. One of them is even portrayed by geek culture sex symbol Lucy Lawless, of Xena fame. However, the most overtly fanservice-oriented Cylon is the aforementioned Number Six and her little red dress. Early in the show, antihero Gaius Baltar gets a virtual version of Six embedded in his head. Virtual Six serves only two functions: first, delivering hamfisted speeches about God and the religious superiority of Cylons, and second as Gaius’ own personal sex toy. The scenes featuring these two characters “frakking” can be skipped entirely, since they add nothing to the story. Besides fanservice, of course.
And there you have it. Even the redeeming aspects of Battlestar Galactica, such as the impressive special effects and sublime acting of Edward James Olmos, cannot overcome the ruination of fanservice. The same problem plagues both anime and live-action TV: the objectification of women at the expense of story. Now, don’t get me wrong; I enjoy plenty of fanservice-heavy shows. But fanservice is kinda like the frosting on a cake… if the cake itself is rotten, covering up the problem with large amounts of frosting isn’t going to help. So American and Japanese writers alike, please stop using boobs and pantyshots to try and cover up bad writing. If you’re just a little more mature in your treatment of sex and sexuality, it will make us all a LOT happier.