The Gospel According to Hannibal Smith
The other night I was looking for something easy to watch on TV and settled on The A-Team.
I'm a little to young to have seen it originally. The A-Team ran from the year I was born until the year my sister came along, four years later. But I've probably seen every episode more than once thanks to reruns. Now with the wonder of streaming, I can watch it again.
But aside from nostalgia why would I?
The A-Team actually taught me story structure long before I'd hear the name Joseph Campbell or learn about three acts. Something about those reruns, though, just clicked when I noticed every story was basically the same. Then I started seeing those same patterns everywhere, like U.S. Marshalls.
After we got home from a rare family trip to the movies to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, I felt like something was wrong, so I mapped out the arc of the story (again, with no idea what I was doing), to find that it didn't have the natural ebb and flow of The A-Team. My life hasn't been the same ever since.
But it's The A-Team! Rudimentary story beats are one thing. It couldn't possibly surprise me now that I hold a degree in film and have seen countless of hours of TV and movies since then.
Apparently it can.
The other night I decided to skip the two part pilot and go straight to the first regular episode, Children of Jamestown. It aired while the Jonestown massacre was still fresh in everyone's mind, and similarly centers around a religious cult. The A-Team is hired to rescue a young woman, which they do, but in the process end up getting captured themselves.
Any prime time TV show of the last 20 years would have subtly lead the audience to lump all Christians together, cultists and their church-going neighbors alike. Watch for it. Every vaguely Christian character on Bones, NCIS, House, or what have you, will be a hypocrite, a bigot, the primary suspect, if not the killer.
So as this episode of my old favorite show started, I expected more of the same. I figured that sort of negative messaging started after CBS cancelled all of their rural shows at the end of the 60's. Why wouldn't The A-Team do it too?
And then our hero, Hannibal Smith, takes a moment to say, "It's got nothing to do with Christianity, it's about power." Not religion. Specifically Christianity. The bad guys are still bad, and all the trappings of pseudo-religion are there, but a line has been drawn, a distinction made. And that's the end of it. They don't need to belabor the point, or convert anyone, or have a theological debate.
Next, fan favorite B.A. Baracus explains the soldiers' worldview to reporter and audience stand-in Amy: "Look Amy, we all gotta accept death, that way we don't have no fear. It gives us the edge." No sugarcoated promises. It's heavy stuff for a kids show, and even more meaningful now that the entire world is paralyzed at the idea of getting the flu.
How things have changed.
Naturally, all the expected hijinks ensue and The A-Team burns the compound to the ground. That probably wouldn't fly after what happened in Waco a few years later. But no one dies, it's not mean-spirited destruction. It's a purifying fire that exposes the evil within and justifies our heroes' righteous work.
At the end of the episode, Hannibal goes into the cult leader's cabin to retrieve his ostrich skin cowboy boots and sees a Bible on the table. Without a word, he picks up the Bible and wipes the dust and grime from it. Again, quietly emphasizing that this had nothing to do with Christianity and even showing reverence. For good measure, he takes a moment in the doorway, much like John Wayne at the end of The Searchers, before going back out into the world.
This stupid show for kids has more truth, artistry, and symbolism, than anything on the network shows today. And it's fun. Maybe that's the biggest lesson to take away from The A-Team, too. As we tell stories that have good messages and reflect truth, we can't forget to have fun.