Seven-of-Ninyanka

Or, Catsuits are Irrelevant

We are making our way through Star Trek: Voyager, via Netflix. Some of the episodes are crashingly boring, but I'm becoming ever-more-attached to a few of the characters. I am still fond of Tuvok and the Doctor; I always love their arrogance: uptight and snarky, respectively. I smile and comment on how much I appreciate them, whenever they appear in an episode. The producers got rid of one of the characters I loathed (Kes), so that was good (I am always hoping for the demise of Neelix, but sadly, so far, no luck). Apparently, I'm relatively indifferent to the actual human members of Voyager's crew. The latest addition to the crew is one that I'm coming to also love. Seven of Nine was a character that I was led to believe was added only to provide the requisite Revealingly Clad Buxom Babe (RCBB) Factor, in a desperate bid for a ratings jump among the highly desirable "lonely geeky male" demographic. Whatever the case may be, I find Seven to be a compelling and sympathetic character, not to mention ceaselessly logical and efficient. I also think that Seven reminds me very much of Anya on Buffy: the awkward outsider who was (at least initially) unwillingly brought from her familiar and functional life into the confusing and often illogical world of human interaction. Poor Seven has perpetual culture shock, moved abruptly from a group-oriented society where all were literally of one mind to an individual-centered one. Gee, I wonder what that's like. No wonder she sees so many things as irrelevant! Fortunately, Jeri Ryan is actually a very good actress who carries off her complex role quite nicely.
I'm hoping that the writers stop being lazy, and get some good episodes going, though. One can't build an entire television series on statuesque (although, thank goodness she's not a skinny waif) anatomy.