Saturday, September 24, 2011

Lost Girl Season One, Episode Eleven: Faetal Justice

In this episode Vex, Bo's nemesis comes back to town, which leads to a ton of trouble for neighbourhood werewolf Dyson.  This time, it's Bo's chance to finally save him and break long running streak of Damsel in distress. Who knew she had it in her?

When Dyson wakes up in alley, covered in blood next to a dead body, he knows that he is in way over his head.   He immediately heads to the dahl and asks for sanctuary which of course Trick is happy to give.  It seems that not only has he been set up to look like a murderer, he has no memory of events after he left work.  This means that Bo must convince him to let her help.  The writers tried to make it seem as though it was ridiculous for Dyson to be worried about Bo's safety, but considering she isn't known for being independent or saving herself, is it any wonder he didn't want her going up against a fae who can control the actions of those around him?  Without any clan to seek revenge there would be nothing to stay his hand, should Vex decide to hurt her.

Kenzi and Bo go to a dark fae bar, to talk to the witnesses.  After speaking to the bartender, who is highly visible because he is after all a bartender, BO has had enough of playing private eye and leaves Kenzi to search for Portia -- the human female witness.  Granted that there are a lot of humans in the bar, but it certainly does not mean that Kenzi is inherently safe, especially because she is publicly associated with Bo.  When she walked out telling Kenzi to find Portia, it was just really another example of what shitty friend Bo really is. I suppose we weren't supposed to notice that, because she was after all trying to help Dyson -- you know, the friend with the penis.

Trick proves to be a far better friend to Dyson than Bo is to Kenzi.  When visited by the Morrigan, rather than hand Dyson over  he stood up to her.  He repeated this act when the Ashe came to insist that Dyson be given over for trial.  Even when the Ashe suggests a potential loss of power for him, he continues to defend his friend.  Trick even called in countless favors to help Dyson, while Bo flitted back and forth doing nothing, while Hale and Kenzi did all of the hard work.

In the end it turned out that Ba'al, a Black fae was murdered by Harrison to save Portia, who he loved from being killed.  Ba'al apparently drugged women and blocked out their memories to have the work as tops/bottoms in his exclusive little sex club.  I know that there are Black men that are pimps, but when it appears on television, it is disturbing because they are overwhelming constructed as traffickers and abusers of women, in comparison to me of other races.  A Black man is far more likely to play the part of a criminal, than he is to play the role of a hero or a professional. Even though the most powerful White fae is Black, falling back to racist tropes is clearly not beyond the writers of this show.

To then have Portia saved by a White man, because he loves and respects her, just drives home the message that Black men are inherently a threat to White women.  This little myth originated to ensure that they were no long lasting alliances between Black men and White women, as well as to ensure that that White women dedicated their lives and reproductive energies to White men. It sets up White men as the ultimate protectors of White womanhood, even as it limits their choices and turns them into dependent frail beings.

I really like this show, but I find myself saying I like it in spite of.  Every episode the writers seem to feel the need to slap you in the face with one ism or another.  It's not as if it adds anything to the plot or even makes the characters more likeable.  The show would continue to be good, if the isms were removed.   Urban fantasy just like anything else in our society is problematic because we live in a world that supports and believes in a hierarchy of bodies, however I find that when it comes to urban fantasy, these stings and jabs hurt all the more because the writers are working with a world of their own creation.  With their imagination they have the ability to add inclusion, and good portrayal of marginalized bodies and yet they routinely fail to do so.