Relationship Spotlight: Datak, Stahma & Alak Tarr (Defiance)

There’s plenty to like about Defiance, but for my money, the Tarrs and their drama are one of the best things to recommend the show. Though their story draws from a number of different archetypes, it all comes together to form something uniquely their own (some Tarr-related spoilers.)

Any discussion of the Tarrs has to start with Datak and Stahma. From the start, theirs is an interesting relationship. In Castithan culture, Stahma is from a much higher liro (caste) than Datak, which makes for a conflicted dynamic – Castithans are both highly classist and majorly patriarchal. As a result, Stahma’s liro gives the lower-class Datak greater legitimacy among their people, even as he seeks to rule his house with an iron fist, keeping his aristocratic wife under his thumb.

Then there’s the fact that, when they came to Earth, their respective liros held weight in Castithan society but meant nothing to other Votans or humans. Suddenly, Stahma found herself and her new husband destitute immigrants on a new planet. While she took (in her view) degrading work as a domestic, Datak facilitated their rise, first by earning money through cons and trickery, and then by building a criminal empire. By the time we meet Datak in the pilot, he’s a full-blown godfather, a “legitimate businessman” in name only. He runs the drug trade in Defiance, a protection racket, and keeps most people in town afraid of getting on the wrong side of him.

Meanwhile, Stahma positions herself as his demure and coquetteish Lady Macbeth. While she flutters and flatters in public, she whispers in Datak’s ear in private, subtly guiding her impulsive husband toward longer cons. When their son Alak falls in love with a human, Datak first instinct is to rage and forbid such an affront to Castithan culture. Stahma, however, reminds him that Alak’s lover Kristie is heir to Defiance’s valuable mines, land that could be maneuvered into the Tarrs’ hands if they’re patient and work the right angles.

As the series goes on, Datak and Stahma’s relationship goes through a number of permutations. Both of them have a deep desire for power, and Stahma is content to deploy hers behind the scenes for only so long. Plenty of episodes find them seeking to manipulate, outwit, or set up the other, at times resorting to threats and violence. And yet, throughout it all, the connection that binds them remains strong. Neither is ever entirely willing to do away with the other, and whenever they’re backed into a corner, they usually lean on one another and prove that they’re always the strongest and smartest when they’re working together.

Compared to all that high drama and narrative twisting, Alak seems at first much more run-of-the-mill, but that in itself isn’t without interest. Datak and Stahma’s son was born on Earth, and he isn’t especially beholden to Castithan tradition or the family crime business. In addition to falling for a human, he’s enamored with human rock music and often laughs at his parents’ old-world ways (but, as a Castithan American, Alak’s experience is twofold – he still holds to some Castithan values deeply, and cultural differences sometimes come between him and Kristie.) And, well, let’s just say Alak wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice to inherit their criminal enterprise. He lacks both Datak’s ruthlessness and Stahma’s cunning. Instead, he tends to freeze in dangerous situations and frequently squirms when accused of wrongdoing. But of course, circumstances eventually force him into this world that he wants no part of, and he finds himself caught between warring desires not to shame his parents and to avoid such a dirty business.

It’s also interesting to see how Alak is alternately used and abused by both his parents. Datak’s love and/or approval is the most blatantly conditional. He regularly sneers at his son’s soft ways or recoils at Alak’s less-than-Castithan sensibilities, mocking and playing mind games with his only child. By the same token, when Alak does “step up,” in Datak’s eyes, however unwillingingly, it earns Alak his father’s praise and apparent respect, which is quickly snatched away the moment Alak stumbles. Stahma seems at first much more genuinely loving, coddling Alak (he’s definitely a mama’s boy) and trying to protect him from Datak’s temper – the first time that Stahma really breaks from Datak, it’s after he’s hurt Alak to “teach him a lesson.” Stahma is the Castithan snowplow parent, clearing the way for Alak to make his life easier and give him the luxury and opportunities fitting her liro (much of which she lost upon coming to Earth and had to fight to reclaim.) But when Alak fails to measure up to what Stahma wants of him, she’s no less cruel than Datak, and her coldness and abuse is perhaps even more impactful because Alak doesn’t expect it from her.

In other words, all kinds of effed-up dynamics in this family. In real life, all of them would be best off getting as far away from one another as possible, but in fiction, it’s fascinating, constantly surprising, and endlessly watchable. Whenever you see one or more Tarrs onscreen, you know it’s about to get good.