A Bold, Ambitious, and Terrifying Allegory Dressed in Sci-Fi Clothing
In the spring of 1983, American audiences tuned in to NBC expecting a science fiction spectacle. What they got instead was something far deeper, darker, and more profound. V, the two-part miniseries written and directed by Kenneth Johnson (The Incredible Hulk, The Bionic Woman), is not just a gripping piece of genre television—it’s an emotionally resonant allegory, a cautionary tale, and a pop-cultural milestone all rolled into one. At a time when Ronald Reagan’s “Morning in America” promised optimism and strength, V quietly suggested that tyranny can arrive not with tanks, but with promises of peace.
Looking back now, over four decades later, V holds up remarkably well—not just as entertainment, but as a work of commentary. It’s more than just a story about alien visitors. It’s a chilling study of collaboration, resistance, propaganda, and the enduring fragility of democracy.
The Story: Aliens, But Make It Fascist
The premise is deceptively simple: a fleet of massive alien motherships suddenly appears over the Earth’s major cities. The extraterrestrials, who call themselves the “Visitors,” arrive in peace. They’re tall, polite, and humanoid—clad in striking red uniforms and speaking of cooperation. All they ask in return for sharing their advanced technology is access to Earth’s water and a small quantity of chemical supplies.
Of course, all is not what it seems.
Slowly, the Visitors begin to infiltrate human institutions. Scientists are quietly discredited and detained. Youth organizations swell with eager recruits wearing matching uniforms. People start to disappear. It’s not long before the truth is revealed: the Visitors are not benevolent saviors. They are lizard-like reptiles disguised in human skin, harvesting humans as food and exploiting the planet’s resources. And they are doing it all under the guise of peace and order.
What follows is the rise of an underground resistance—scientists, journalists, students, and everyday citizens who band together to expose the truth and fight back. V quickly evolves from first-contact sci-fi to full-blown dystopian drama, with overt parallels to Nazi Germany, the Holocaust, and authoritarian regimes throughout history.
Casting Humanity: Heroes, Villains, and Everyone in Between
The brilliance of V lies in its characters. This isn’t just a tale of good versus evil; it’s a tapestry of moral choices. Kenneth Johnson’s script excels at showing how people respond differently to tyranny—some fight, some flee, and others eagerly embrace it.
Marc Singer leads the ensemble as Mike Donovan, a television journalist whose investigation into the Visitors leads to the first big reveal of their true nature. Singer brings a believable mix of idealism and grit to the role. His journey from detached observer to full-blown resistance fighter gives the audience a clear, accessible entry point into the story.
But it’s Faye Grant as Dr. Juliet Parrish who arguably steals the show. A biologist and leader in the underground movement, Julie is intelligent, compassionate, and fierce. She’s one of the few women in early 80s genre television to lead an armed rebellion—not as a sidekick, not as a love interest, but as the strategic and emotional core of the resistance. Grant’s performance is understated but powerful, making Julie one of the most memorable characters in the miniseries.
Jane Badler, as Diana—the Visitor’s second-in-command—is equal parts seductive and monstrous. Her iconic performance helped cement V‘s legacy in pop culture. Diana is cold, cunning, and ruthlessly manipulative. She’s the smiling face of tyranny, as likely to deliver a polite speech on cooperation as she is to vivisect a human prisoner. When she eats a guinea pig whole, it’s not just gross-out TV—it’s symbolic of the predator behind the mask.
Rounding out the cast are solid performances by Michael Ironside (in the sequel, V: The Final Battle), Neva Patterson, Richard Herd, and David Packer—each playing different archetypes: the collaborator, the reluctant rebel, the silent witness. V excels by showing how ordinary people are caught in extraordinary circumstances—and how their choices ripple outward.
The Allegory: Fascism with a Sci-Fi Face
Kenneth Johnson has never been shy about the metaphor. V is a thinly veiled allegory for the rise of Nazism—and it’s all the better for it. The Visitors’ tactics are straight from the totalitarian playbook: controlling the media, scapegoating scientists, manipulating youth, staging false-flag attacks to consolidate power.
The parallels are often chilling. The “Visitor Youth” wear uniforms resembling Hitler Youth. Scientists are forced to register themselves, echoing the targeting of Jews and intellectuals. Resistance fighters hide in attics. Entire families disappear in the night. Neighbors turn on neighbors. Collaborators flourish.
This grounding in real history gives V a weight that most genre shows lack. Yes, the aliens are in rubber suits. Yes, the visual effects are dated by today’s standards. But the emotional stakes feel very real. It’s not just about aliens—it’s about how power corrupts, and how easily fear can be weaponized.
In an era when many Americans were lulled into comfort by consumerism and political rhetoric, V reminded viewers that democracy is fragile. That evil doesn’t always come with horns—it can come with a handshake, a television broadcast, and the promise of unity.
Production Design and Direction: A Grand Vision on a Modest Budget
For a TV miniseries made in 1983, V is incredibly ambitious. The motherships hovering over cities are iconic—slick, white, and ominous. Matte paintings and models do most of the heavy lifting, and while the special effects are a bit rough around the edges, they still have charm. What matters more is the atmosphere.
DeSimone and his team smartly focus on suspense and dread, rather than spectacle. Much of the story takes place in suburban homes, TV studios, schoolyards—places that feel real. The horror isn’t just that aliens are among us—it’s that they’re welcomed into the fold, and that so many people are willing to trade freedom for security.
The Visitors’ uniforms are memorable, the makeup work (especially during the lizard reveals) is striking, and the use of propaganda-style posters and TV announcements creates an immersive, believable world. Johnson’s direction is confident, balancing character drama with genre thrills. The musical score, composed by Joe Harnell, is eerie and militaristic, underlining the tension throughout.
Cultural Impact: A Franchise Is Born
V was a ratings success when it aired in May 1983, watched by over 80 million people. Its success spawned a sequel (V: The Final Battle) and a weekly series. And though the follow-ups were less consistent in tone and quality (especially once Johnson departed), the universe he created had staying power.
In 2009, a reboot attempted to modernize the premise, with mixed results. While visually slicker, it lacked the emotional weight and historical grounding that made the original so compelling.
More importantly, V helped solidify the idea that science fiction could be a vessel for political commentary on television. It opened the door for shows like Battlestar Galactica (the 2004 reboot), The Man in the High Castle, and even parts of The Handmaid’s Tale. It showed that resistance stories weren’t just for books and art films—they could live in prime time.
Themes That Still Resonate
Rewatching V today, you’ll find its themes feel disturbingly relevant: media manipulation, creeping authoritarianism, the demonization of science, and the importance of dissent. These issues haven’t gone away. In fact, they’ve arguably intensified.
The idea that a group can use fear and propaganda to turn a free society against itself is no longer the stuff of speculative fiction—it’s front-page news. And V is here to remind us that it’s not enough to wait for someone else to speak up. Resistance starts with individuals—scientists, journalists, students—who choose courage over comfort.
Even the show’s title card, with the spray-painted red “V” for victory, still hits hard. It’s not just about beating the aliens. It’s about reclaiming truth in a world that prefers lies.
Final Thoughts: “V” Is Victory for Genre Storytelling
V is a rare blend of genre thrills and real-world resonance. It delivers suspense, memorable characters, and iconic imagery—but it also challenges viewers to think about power, complicity, and resistance. Kenneth Johnson’s vision turned what could have been a cheesy alien invasion story into a masterclass in metaphor, and in doing so, created a television event that still holds up today.
Yes, some of the dialogue is dated. Yes, the effects are a bit creaky. But the soul of V—its passion, its warning, its humanity—is timeless.
If you haven’t seen it, you should. And if you have, watch it again. The Visitors may look different now, but the playbook hasn’t changed.
Rating: 9 out of 10 red spray-painted “V”s.
