Coolness. Thanks Tri.
Here ya go:
Here ya go:
Spoiler:
Foreword means ‘first word’ or ‘the word in front’, doesn’t it? (For the sake of this little stream of consciousness, let’s presume it does.) Well now, to write a first word about Stargate: Atlantis would be impossible; there have already been so many words written about Stargate SG-1 and now Stargate: Atlantis. So all I can hope to offer is to contribute to the middle words! I know it can’t be the last word—this is partly because of hope, but mostly I know this because we are presently shooting season three. So hopefully there will be at least one more ‘last word’ Foreword—and, in fact, I hope for many more middle words before that last word is written…
Here we are, all who are reading this, looking over season two of Atlantis, so my first pointed middle word must be: thanks. Thank you for watching us (and reading this), for without you there would be no us. Eternal gratitude. Because of all of you, I get to have one of the coolest jobs around. Not only because I get to be the boss of a team of scintillating and handsome hero boys, and not just because they have to listen to me even though I don’t carry a gun. Not only because I have the joy of having the strong, smart and lovely Rachel to giggle with. But also because a lot of science fiction acting takes place entirely in your imagination.
Now, I recall acting teachers pounding into my head how I should “Never ‘act’ only ‘re-act’”. Well, at the start of the first season I was cursing them, thinking, “What the hell do I do? My reaction to a big piece of green fabric isn’t going to be that interesting!” And then the fear surfaces that if it isn’t connected to you heart, you will end up in the “no turn un-stoned” school of over-over-acting. Then, somewhere along the way, I remembered play. As a kid you don’t need anything but your own belief in the story you are living out. You don’t worry about props or logic or even if your sister knows she’s play the part of the Evil Guardian of the Treasure who you have to sneak past to get to the Kitchen of Gold. It’s your world to create and every inch of it feels real. So now I get paid to play. And play all day is exactly what we do!
There are days on set when we get tired and grumpy or frustrated with solving problems, be it props or blocking or words, but almost immediately we look around and remember—or sometimes are reminded—how lucky we all are. Not only are the people surrounding me each day so talented, funny and, on the whole, kind, but this entire franchise has inspired such creativity and connection from its loyal viewers. Some of the art I’ve been sent and scripts I’ve read from fans online are treasures. People like Sharon (Gosling, the loyal author of this series of companions, among many other Stargate words written) put so much into this. So alongside ‘The Powers That Be’, Brad Wright and Robert Cooper—for starting this whole damn thing and giving me a job in their self-made madness—all our wonderful writers, directors, magician DOPs, cast, everyone of our incredible crew, and my sister for giving me all that practice as a kid, I must thank all of you for this really great part of my life.
I didn’t grow up on science fiction, in fact I never really got it. So when I was offered a job on Stargate: Atlantis it meant a crash course in sci-fi. And phew! What a course it was… (I only wish this companion had been available then. Where were you Sharon?) I soon discovered some of the many things I would come to love about it. For one, how it creates a safe haven to explore politics and philosophies which may be too delicate to ponder overtly and explicitly at certain times in history. But maybe more precious is its ability to bring strangers and outsiders together—both in other galaxies and right here at home.
Sci-fi fans are one of a kind: loyal, detail oriented (“in episode three the button to the left was pressed to engage the ZPM resent, and in episode nine someone pressed the right button”)—alright, some are a bit obsessive—and all of them are open of heart. The number of letters I’ve received from people telling me how they met their best friends in sci-fi chat rooms, and some even sharing out they found the loves of their lives at conventions, blows my mind. And it was that same impulse that made my character, Dr. Elizabeth Weir, take the job as head of the Pegasus Galaxy expedition: to explore different cultures, find the similarities… and celebrate the differences (well mainly—when the Wraith come to visit we don’t put out the chips and dip). So far she’s met with more defensive than open cultures… but she, like I, believes there is more good than bad out there. And so we both hope for future Forewords in future companions on futures Atlantis seasons.
Torri Higginson
Vancouver, May 2006
Here we are, all who are reading this, looking over season two of Atlantis, so my first pointed middle word must be: thanks. Thank you for watching us (and reading this), for without you there would be no us. Eternal gratitude. Because of all of you, I get to have one of the coolest jobs around. Not only because I get to be the boss of a team of scintillating and handsome hero boys, and not just because they have to listen to me even though I don’t carry a gun. Not only because I have the joy of having the strong, smart and lovely Rachel to giggle with. But also because a lot of science fiction acting takes place entirely in your imagination.
Now, I recall acting teachers pounding into my head how I should “Never ‘act’ only ‘re-act’”. Well, at the start of the first season I was cursing them, thinking, “What the hell do I do? My reaction to a big piece of green fabric isn’t going to be that interesting!” And then the fear surfaces that if it isn’t connected to you heart, you will end up in the “no turn un-stoned” school of over-over-acting. Then, somewhere along the way, I remembered play. As a kid you don’t need anything but your own belief in the story you are living out. You don’t worry about props or logic or even if your sister knows she’s play the part of the Evil Guardian of the Treasure who you have to sneak past to get to the Kitchen of Gold. It’s your world to create and every inch of it feels real. So now I get paid to play. And play all day is exactly what we do!
There are days on set when we get tired and grumpy or frustrated with solving problems, be it props or blocking or words, but almost immediately we look around and remember—or sometimes are reminded—how lucky we all are. Not only are the people surrounding me each day so talented, funny and, on the whole, kind, but this entire franchise has inspired such creativity and connection from its loyal viewers. Some of the art I’ve been sent and scripts I’ve read from fans online are treasures. People like Sharon (Gosling, the loyal author of this series of companions, among many other Stargate words written) put so much into this. So alongside ‘The Powers That Be’, Brad Wright and Robert Cooper—for starting this whole damn thing and giving me a job in their self-made madness—all our wonderful writers, directors, magician DOPs, cast, everyone of our incredible crew, and my sister for giving me all that practice as a kid, I must thank all of you for this really great part of my life.
I didn’t grow up on science fiction, in fact I never really got it. So when I was offered a job on Stargate: Atlantis it meant a crash course in sci-fi. And phew! What a course it was… (I only wish this companion had been available then. Where were you Sharon?) I soon discovered some of the many things I would come to love about it. For one, how it creates a safe haven to explore politics and philosophies which may be too delicate to ponder overtly and explicitly at certain times in history. But maybe more precious is its ability to bring strangers and outsiders together—both in other galaxies and right here at home.
Sci-fi fans are one of a kind: loyal, detail oriented (“in episode three the button to the left was pressed to engage the ZPM resent, and in episode nine someone pressed the right button”)—alright, some are a bit obsessive—and all of them are open of heart. The number of letters I’ve received from people telling me how they met their best friends in sci-fi chat rooms, and some even sharing out they found the loves of their lives at conventions, blows my mind. And it was that same impulse that made my character, Dr. Elizabeth Weir, take the job as head of the Pegasus Galaxy expedition: to explore different cultures, find the similarities… and celebrate the differences (well mainly—when the Wraith come to visit we don’t put out the chips and dip). So far she’s met with more defensive than open cultures… but she, like I, believes there is more good than bad out there. And so we both hope for future Forewords in future companions on futures Atlantis seasons.
Torri Higginson
Vancouver, May 2006
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