Day 33: Sci Fi Fans vs. Alien Romance Fans
In a previous Tumblr post tearing down 1983's Strange Invaders, I pointed out in old sci-fi films that one golden, toxic rule in cinema was that an alien and human could never be together. Hell, even a bad, cheesy TV movie, like 1999's Roswell: The Aliens Attack, shows a human woman who has grown old with one foot in the grave, STILL waiting for her alien lover to return!
2002's Taken miniseries is no different. It's a prime example of a deadbeat father abandoning his human lover and unborn child over some bullshit excuse the writers or studio executives cooked up.
Taking place in 1947 during the Roswell incident, a Gray alien disguises himself as a human named John and romances Sally, a neglected housewife on a farm while her husband is away.
She falls in love, ends up pregnant with a hybrid child, and then he just ups and leaves. The series tries to make it a bittersweet moment where he gives her a star earring to remember him by.
Oops, My Bad - So John says goodbye, hitches a ride back to outerspace and never returns again. His bullshit excuse is that he has a wife and children back on Gray World. Yeah, okay, Sally is just your galactic side order of mistress, who you purposely impregnated for an experiment just to incorporate "emotion" back into your vapid race.
What a calculating bastard.
Spoiler Alert: At this point, I don't give a shit. This series angers me, even back in December 2002 when I caught glimpses of it on the SyFy Channel, that I'm finally letting it out.
So the hybrid child, Jacob, grows up feeling trapped between two worlds: the usual cliche where he feels like an outsider to other humans, possesses alien powers he can barely control and raised by a bitter, suspicious stepfather.
Sally is just a passive character throughout all this, always grieving for her alien lover and always stressed over raising Jacob alongside her other children. She is just a convenient prop to move the story along in such a cold, depressing way.
Jacob, having never met his alien father and driven to pure misery over his powers, ends up committing suicide.
"I've Come To Collect My Experiment, Bye!" - Jacob leaves behind a devastated wife and little daughter, Lisa, who goes on to marry Charlie Keyes, another human abducted by the Grays. They have a girl, Allie, who finally bridges the connection between both species.
John only returns to Earth to collect his great-grandaughter, Allie - after Sally is long dead, his son is dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, and two families are left shattered by the Gray's actions and another sinister family's government assaults.
John is an awful character not only for abandoning Sally over incompatibility to live with each other and using her in a cold experiment, but NEVER being there for Jacob, who faced the anger of a human stepfather, Bill, and government terrorizers.
It told the viewer that love was not enough to keep two souls together, despite being different expressions of the same universe (Carl Sagan's philosophy).
Conclusion - Taken was truly a depressing series that used 1950s tropes that were outdated, even by 2002. My parents got bored and stopped watching it (it was 20 hours of misery, paranoia, government villainy, soap opera drama, and cold stereotypical aliens). I never really watched it, immediately disliking an alien abandoning a lover and child.
No wonder it was completely forgotten, despite winning an undeserved Emmy award. Spielberg wasn't even involved despite his name being slapped over this travesty. He just green-lighted the funding for it, then turned his attention to other projects.
The Romance Writers: "Not On My Watch!" - In the past few decades, sci-fi romance writers have completely flipped the alien abduction trope where human and alien STAY TOGETHER and make it WORK.
See Amazon or any bookstore for a bunch of novels and audiobooks.
The indie webcomic, Trying Human, is a perfect antidote to the garbage that was Taken.
Instead of treating human women like passive incubators and cosmic side-chicks, Trying Human completely flips the script on the emotionless alien trope. Created by a Emy Bitner, the story refuses to let its characters become tragic props.
Take Rose, for example. When she gets involved with a Gray alien named Hue, we don't get a repeat of the depressing, deadbeat-dad dynamic from Taken. Hue doesn't hit-and-run her for a genetic experiment. He actually sticks around, putting on human disguise and trying to fit into Rose's life. She too is an abductee that must comically deal with the usual mess of the Grays experiments, unexpected love, and formidable human villains.
We Can Make It Work, Baby! - The webcomic vehemently rejects the idea that advancement requires discarding your lover. The Grays in Trying Human aren't just cold, robotic hive-minds—they are capable of genuine affection, rebellion, and deep emotional bonds.
Unlike Sally, Rose isn't left alone on a farm to grieve a piece of star-shaped jewelry while a bitter human husband torments her kid. She gets a partner who fights for their family.
It proves that the miserable, multi-generational trauma in Taken wasn't a "necessary sci-fi convention"—it was just lazy, cynical writing. Trying Human shows exactly how you write a storyline with actual heart, dignity, and respect for the characters involved.
Sci-fi creators, especially women and exceptional men (such as the "Humanity, Fuck Yeah!" community) are out here cleaning up the mess that the 2002 series left behind, and I am absolutely here for it.
The comic also weaves flashbacks of Rose's counterpart, Phillis, an intelligence translator from 1947 during the Roswell incident too! She also falls for Gray alien and despite their tragic circumstances, their love is ongoing in the series while being worlds apart.
You Got This, Girl! - Instead of being a helpless, tragic ghost who leaves her descendant to suffer alone, Phillis acts as a literal lifeline for Rose in the present day. Even though they are separated by over half a century, they share a special telepathic link.
When Rose is abducted and completely lost in the terrifying, clinical world of the mothership, Phillis doesn't let her be alone and traumatized. She appears in Rose's dreams and visions as a guide, comforting and helping her navigate the danger.
It subverts the passive "abductee" trope, with Phillis protecting Rose from the shadows. When Rose panics on the alien ship and tries to flee, it's Phillis who stands by her side. She guides her toward safety and a teleport so she can return safely to her apartment.
Hue vs. John - What truly solidifies Trying Human as the anti-Taken is how the core relationship between Rose and Hue actually works. Unlike John, who treated his human lover as an expendable incubator, Hue genuinely respects and cherishes Rose.
He doesn't look down on humanity. Instead, he is a rare, empathetic Gray alien who uses a "trying human" circuit specifically to understand her world, bridge the biological gap, and learn how to express genuine affection.
Their bond works because it's rooted in mutual support and genuine love. Hue doesn't drop a piece of jewelry and vanish into the cosmos like John. He continuously risks the wrath of his own kind, breaks the rules of his mothership, and stays by Rose's side to help her process her abductions and reclaim her life.
It's a story about true emotional equality, showing that cross-species love can be healing rather than destructive when an alien partner is actually willing to show up and do the emotional work.
THAT's how you make the relationship, against all odds, work.
