Quantcast
Channel: Kiss My Wonder Woman
Viewing all 513 articles
Browse latest View live

Con Report: Geek Girl Con 2014 (Panel Overview!)

$
0
0

I am now back from Geek Girl Con 2014 and I am completely and utterly exhausted. But, like, in a good way that signifies how fun it was and how interesting all of the panels were. The general kind of tiredness that comes from doing something very engaging for a long period of time. It's a good tired.

It was kind of a bummer that GGC happened to fall on the same weekend this year as New York Comicon and IndieCade. There were a lot fewer "big names" there than last year, more of people just wanting to hang out with other fellow-minded nerds. But that's not a bad thing. It was kind of nice being at a convention where the real purpose, the stated goal of the con, was inclusivity. Yeah, the name is Geek Girl Con, but it's really all about making a place for marginalized voices in the geek world and having a community that can come together to celebrate good art.

And I'm not just saying that because I had a good time. Other people seemed to enjoy it to. Someone even called it the "Canada of conventions." Which seems apt.

It would be almost impossible for me to write a comprehensive report of everything I said or did at the convention, and to be honest, most of that would be super boring for all of you. But I did attend some really cool panels, and I did get to interview some absolutely amazing up and coming artists. The artist interviews will be up over the next couple of days, and you can find some panel summaries below the jump.

A Talk with Anita Sarkeesian - Saturday 10am

So, I did not know that Anita Sarkeesian was going to be at GGC. I mean, she was last year, so it wasn't out of the realm of possibility, but last year she was sitting at a friend's stall in Artist's Alley. This year, what with the whole horrible mess she's had to wade through in the past few months, I wasn't really expecting her to come out. But she did! Granted, it was a rather surreal experience. Her presence was not publicized beforehand (for obvious reasons), and there was a police officer searching bags before we got into the room. Kind of intense.

The conversation, as could be expected, largely circled around her current series on Feminist Frequency (Tropes vs. Women in Videogames). She spoke on the origins of Feminist Frequency, which is now a nonprofit, and their stated mission, which is to make feminist analysis accessible to everyone. That's why the videos are now and always will be free, and why Sarkeesian felt it was important to frame them in non-academic jargon. Which is rad.

She spoke about how people underestimate how long it takes her to actually make each video in the Tropes vs. Women in Videogames series, because every visual clip she uses involves playing the game until she can get to the relevant clip and do a screencapture, and the research involved in putting together a single episode is intense. Plus, in the interest of presenting valuable educational tools and pre-empting all possible logical arguments against her videos, she ends up putting in a lot of work and material to each one, which is why they're all multiple-parter hour long videos.

It also touched on the stark realities of "GamerGate" and how the justice system is starting to deal with cyberhate and cyberharassment. She spoke on her experiences trying to report threats made online to the local police, and encouraged anyone who found themself being targeted online to file a police report and maintain a record. As she pointed out, it's scary, but we are at a cultural tipping point and the law is starting to think about ways to deal with this issue.

Why Isn't Bilbo a Girl? (Talking to Kids About Media Representation)

If you've been reading my (semi-weekly) series on kids' media, then you know that this is a topic near and dear to my heart. The panelists, most of whom work with children and/or in game design and education, all addressed the validity of children desiring representation, and the panel reiterated some statistics I'd already heard (like that 85% of videogame characters are white, and 89.5% are male). But it also brought up some stats I hadn't heard, like how there is in fact a causal link between TV exposure and a decrease in self-esteem for everyone except white males (as found by Indiana University). That was interesting.

Probably the most interesting moment for me, though, came when the panelists started talking about how to address token characters, harmful stereotypes, and misrepresentations found in a lot of popular culture. Because, well, that comes up a lot and it's hard to know how to deal with it. The best advice? When a kid sees something problematic or something that makes you uncomfortable, ask them questions about it. Engage the child's critical faculty and help them to figure it out on their own. Another big point? Explain to them why you are uncomfortable, and validate their feelings.

They also talked about opening a dialogue early on with children, making it clear that they can and should question the representations they see around them. And I think that is an amazing idea. So too is the value of pointing out how media doesn't arise in a vacuum - someone has to create it, and that person has biases and prejudices. Help kids to understand that media comes from people.

But the real gem of an idea from this panel? If you're wanting to educate a kid on representation issues and wanting to give them a more diverse media experience, then give them good media as a gift. Like, give kids the DVDs for Avatar: The Last Airbender or issues of Lumberjanes or other awesome stuff that is age appropriate and contains diverse, quality characters. It's sneaky, and it works.

Feminist Community Building 101

Great panel. We had Anita Sarkeesian (Feminist Frequency), Sheena McNeil (Sequential Tart), Angela Webber (The DoubleClicks), Ashlee Blackwell (Graveyard Shift Sisters), and Jamie Broadnax (Black Girl Nerds) - all of whom are awesome and have helped facilitate really cool feminist communities online.

The big take away here - most of the panel was just the sort of thing that I, a website owner, find fascinating and most people don't care about - is that if you want to do something online, it's really helpful to figure out your niche right away. Like, here at KMWW, our niche is overtly academic and analytical critiques of pop culture from a feminist, intersectional point of view. But another website created by another person would and should have a different point of view and stated aim. Niches are a good thing! Own them!

Also they all agreed that it's better to start a blog or art project or anything that you're wanting to do and figure it out as you go than it is to never start because you're afraid of failing.

Fandom and the Media

The panelists here (Lauren Orsini, Gavia Baker-Whitelaw, Aja Romano, Versha Sharma, Amanda Brennan, and Lisa Granshaw) were (are) all fandom reporters, so they were all able to speak from experience. The three biggest issues in being a fan of something and then also reporting on it as a member of the media (which is a thing I have run into because that is literally my whole life here) are, simply: covering fandom with respect, ethics and bias, and participation vs. observation. 

The panel went over these issues, which are the ones that everyone trying to cover fan-news deals with, in depth. I mean, how do you mock fandom in a loving way, without giving the impression that you're an outsider who doesn't understand, and without implying to your audience that the fans are Others who should be feared and loathed?

The main answer? Be respectful and don't be afraid to admit you ignorance in a way that shows that you don't think you are better for being ignorant. As Lauren Orsini pointed out, the media started to go through a shift on fandom reporting when they realized that fans read their articles too.

In terms of ethics, the conversation circled heavily around GamerGate, which is unsurprising, but the main conclusion was that ethics are important, but you don't have to be a crazy person. Like, I always try to tell you guys when I am reporting on something that I backed on Kickstarter or that I find deeply personally awesome or offensive. 

Similarly, a lot of the panelists mentioned that they try to disclose when they support people on Patreon or Kickstarter, or they don't financially support people in order to aim for objectivity. But it's hard. After all, games reporting, and any entertainment industry, is a small place full of people who know each other. It's super hard and kind of insane to disclose every connection.

Finally, in dealing with "participation vs. observation" the panel was agreed that sometimes it's hard to love a thing and have to be openly critical or analytical of it. Versha Sharma admitted that she loves Doctor Who, but she has some problems with the Moffat era, and when she wrote an article expressing those issues, she found herself caught in a fandom firestorm because as a professional journalist she was assumed to be hating on the show for page views, but as a fan, it was seen as a betrayal for her to go on a big media outlet and complain. 

Basically, know your biases, and figure out how to use them to your advantage. Which seems a valid point. 

That's it for panels (at least for ones I took notes in). Tune in tomorrow for some awesome interviews with the peeps in Artist's Alley!


Con Report: Interviews in Artist's Alley (Part 1)

$
0
0

Last weekend was Geek Girl Con (whoo!) and I decided that among going to all the panels I could humanly stand, mingling in the main hall, and hovering near Susan Eisenberg just because, I wanted to interview the artists in Artist's Alley downstairs. Why? Because these are the people actually doing what I keep complaining not enough people do: making diverse, compelling, and interesting art/stories.

And trust me, there was some interesting stuff down there. Among the more standard portraits of Benedict Cumberbatch and Adventure Time prints (both of which are great), there was some gorgeous pixel art done in paint, a ton of original webcomics that look fantastic, and an artist selling oil paintings of Futurama's Hypnotoad. I went around and asked all of them a series of vague and openended questions about art, why they do what they do, and what they would like to tell people. It was pretty fun.

Unfortunately, I couldn't physically get to everyone at once, so these are split up according to the day I spoke the them. Here's who I talked to on Saturday:

Kristin Cheney - Sleep of Reason

Kristin Cheney was very honest about this being her first convention, but she seemed to be having a good time. She was there to sell copies of the Sleep of Reason anthology, in which she has published her first short comic. It's a horror anthology that steers away from easy answers and expected mythologies, and it looks pretty sweet. Cheney admitted that she doesn't get to work on comics full time just yet, but she would absolutely love to. She's planning to launch a street magic webcomic in early 2015. The one thing she wants to tell people? "Drink plenty of water."


Margaret Organ-Kean

Margaret Organ-Kean, it turns out, was a freelance artist for Wizards of the Coast in the 1990s, and she created the art on about 25 Magic cards. When she started out, she told me, the company was really small and it felt like a little family. She made original, beautiful cards (seriously, they're gorgeous), and the best part of the gig was getting free color copies of the cards that she could hand out as color reproductions of her work, back when that cost a hell of a lot to get done professionally. A single card could take anywhere from three months to a day to figure out, but the actual art process probably took from 15-20 hours. She stopped working for Magic and decided to go freelance when the company began to embrace a stricter "house style" in the late 90s, early 00s. Her favorite cards that she made? Probably Mana Prism or Hyperion.


Her current projects include gearing up to a book of nursery rhymes and possibly designing an alphabet book. You can check out her art at http://www.organ-kean.com/. She does commissions!

Tara Fernon

Tara Fernon had up these beautiful prints of painting that crossover Adventure Time and the Studio Ghibli films and guh, they were just so gorgeous. She said that while she absolutely loves doing fanart, she wishes more people would be aware of how fine arts, especially the work of Alphonse Mucha, has influenced a lot of contemporary pop art. She likes to use this classical interpretation in her fanart, and I've got to say it looks good. You can view her full portfolio here.


Oh, and the one thing she really wanted people to know about? Well, aside from Alphonse Mucha (she pulled up a bunch of his art on her phone when I admitted I didn't know who he was, and it is awesome), Fernon would like people to be more aware of the declining salmon populations in the Northwest. "We used to see thousands of salmon in the stream, now we see maybe one or two a day."

Keri Grassl and Brian Gardes - Kilted Comics

Grassl and Gardes were primarily at GGC to promote their comic, Paris in the 20th Century, a steampunk-ish adventure comic that follows what happened to Jules Verne's lost novel. Apparently Jules Verne lost a novel, and it only resurfaced and was published in the late 1990s. Their comic is a fictionalized imagining of what happened to that novel, and it uses primarily historical figures and reality based technology to tell a light steampunk adventure story. It's pretty freaking cool.

The project was originally just supposed to be a few short vignettes, but it ballooned to be over fifty pages, and has now spawned a prequel, Ana DuPre and the Eye of the Kraken. The prequel will answer the question that apparently everyone was asking about the first piece. Where did that corgi come from in that one panel that one time? Overall, their mission is to make good media that really is appropriate for all ages, but still fun and cool.

And the one thing they want everyone to know? Grassl was very clear. "Everyone should have their ICE (in case of emergency) contacts readily available on their phones in case something happens." You should be able to press a single button and pull them up without having to unlock the phone, that way people can be with their loved ones quickly should anything happen.

Hana Urban

Hana Urban is an illustrator and writer of autobiographical comics. She works as an illustrator right now, but she really wants to get into doing memoir comics full time. She'd love to put out her own graphic novel or graphic memoir. Right now though? Lots of zines! She tries to use her work to bring awareness of mental health issues and activism. And the thing she wants everyone to know about? "Comics are for everybody. Because they're awesome." True story.


Sara Lee and Lara Kim - PanOptic

Okay, so admittedly I only got to talk to Sara Lee, as her sister, Lara Kim, wasn't at the booth when I stopped by. But Lee was there, and eager to talk about their webcomic: PanOptic. It's an indie dystopian story, centered around a vision of Orwellian surveillance in the future. Which seems exactly up my alley, and I'm pretty excited. The comic will be live in early 2015, but you can check out their site here. Lee said they wanted to work in science fiction because it has the potential to show where we're going as a society. It's a way to deal with issues of diversity and oppression narratives.


The thing she really wants to tell people? "We're here, and we're doing what we love. This is a safe space, and I think that's so important."

Harrison Webb - Fiendish Thingy Art

The first thing I noticed at Webb's booth? The amazing caricature of David Tennant as the 10th Doctor. Turns out, there's a story behind that. Webb works as a caricature artist at Disneyland, and created that caricature as a joke during a slow stretch one night. He put it up on his display for kicks, but quickly found that apparently there are a lot of Doctor Who fans at Disneyland. People came by and requested other characters, and pretty soon Webb found himself doing a lot of fanart. He says it's been validating to find other fans through his work, and, yes, he still sells copies of the original 10th Doctor print.

Webb also does commissions and creature design, and says he'd love to keep doing art as long as he can. When I asked what he wanted to tell people, he laughed and said, "That I'm a man, dammit!" Going on he added that he wishes people were more aware of gender diversity, and pointed out that being misgendered sucks. Which, yeah. It really does. Also? "Stop the shipping wars! Think of the children!"

Chibi Yeti

This was another booth where I didn't get a chance to talk to the actual artist - she'd stepped away to go get food or something necessary like that - but I did talk to her business partner, Wakey. Their business model? Get their cute and weird designs out into the world! Chibi Yeti is exactly what it sounds like, a company that sells t-shirts and patches and other materials with pictures of an adorable little yeti on them. Also tentacles. Their new line of shirts is covered with a gorgeous tentacle design, and all of their work is hand screen-printed. They also sell patches with gorgeous embroidery and hand stitchwork. Their goal? Just to "make people smile."

*

That's the first part of Saturday's interviews! More to come. I mean, we haven't even gotten to Sunday yet...

Returning Shows: Agents of SHIELD (Leveling Up in Awesome)

$
0
0

Agents of SHIELD had a very (publicly) rocky first season. It was rough. There were some episodes that you sort of dragged through, praying that your faith in the Whedonverse and Marvel would finally be rewarded, but with your hope dwindling day by day... Okay, I'm making it sound a lot more interesting than it was. The real problem was just that for the first 16 episodes of season one or so, the show was dull. It didn't know what it was doing, and most people lost interest.

After the release of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, though, the show took a level in awesome and suddenly got way better. Mostly because, for the first time, there was a unified bad guy for the SHIELD agents to be fighting (HYDRA) and there were betrayals and intrigues and just generally interesting things going on. The first two thirds of the season suffered from a lack of tension, and the last few episodes had it in spades.

Well, I am here to tell you that, thank goodness, the awesomeness levels of Agents of SHIELD have not returned to their pre-CATWS levels, but have in fact increased. That's right. The show is even better than it was before, and I am so happy about that.

We start this new season with SHIELD operating as a sort of vigilante-shadow organization, still doing what they do, but without governmental support or really any money. They're running a skeleton crew, barely making their meets, and everyone is still shattered from the events of last season. 

Coulson is the new Director of SHIELD, but that means he no longer has time to meet with his baby agents and be their papa duck like he used to. May is still awesome, but she's flailing at having had her team cut down so much, and so she hovers adorably over Skye and Coulson and Fitz.

Who, speaking of, has recovered partially from his coma at the end of season one (turns out, getting hypoxia and then nearly drowning isn't very good for you), but there are distinct lingering effects. He has a form of aphasia, where every word he needs is constantly on the tip of his tongue, and he has trouble controlling his fine motor functions. For a man who prided himself on his intellect, his sharp wit, and his ability to create complex machines with delicate workmanship, all of this is a huge blow. Fitz is a shadow of his former self. Also Simmons is gone, and for the first two episodes, we don't know why or where.

At least Trip is still around, bringing with him a pleasant relief of cool laid-backness and general competence. It's so nice having a character who isn't just a bundle of issues on the show. Plus, he and Skye get along like gangbusters, complete with little conspiracies against their bosses and general BFF-ery. Skye, meanwhile, has learned all of the skills she was supposed to learn as a SHIELD agent. And, it turns out, she's even more badass than she would have been if she went to the academy, because having Agent May as your personal trainer is apparently very effective. So she's a regular field agent now, and that's a very good thing.

Heck, it's like everyone got a personality upgrade to make them more interesting. Ward is still around, but now he's SHIELD's prisoner, kept in a cell in the basement where they can interrogate him for information on HYDRA. He's gone full Hannibal Lecter too, and refuses to speak to anyone other than Skye, presumably so that he can manipulate her. 

And Simmons? (SPOILERS) She's not just off the show. Actually, she's a lot more interesting than before. Simmons has taken an assignment working undercover for SHIELD, embedded in HYDRA's science division. She's slowly working her way up the ranks, trying to make friends, and generally being a really compelling character. Because she's not a great liar, and she's not ruthless, but she's got a real axe to grind against HYDRA. They're responsible for crippling her best friend. She has feelings.

Even the new character additions, Lance and Mac, are reasonably interesting. To be honest, I find Mac a lot more interesting than Lance, but whatever. Lance is your standard pretty boy lothario agent, always hitting on Skye and trying to be smooth. Mac, meanwhile, is a tech guy, like Fitz, and he takes it upon himself to be the one helping get Fitz out of his shell. He acts as Fitz's hands (and sometimes his mouthpiece) to get across what Fitz needs to explain. It's freaking adorable.

Oh, and Patton Oswalt is still around as Agent Billy Koenig who may or may not be a clone. Ruth Negga's Raina has thankfully not been written out (yay!), and it seems she's teamed up with a mysterious and menacing Kyle MacLachlin as Skye's father. So, you know, interesting stuff is happening.

Most of all, though, it feels like the show finally figured out what we wanted from it. We didn't want movie tie-ins or case of the week stories. We wanted deep and meaningful character development that could get up close and personal with what it's like to live in the MCU. Right? We wanted to know what life was like for the average SHIELD agent when all of a sudden there's alien tech everywhere and superheroes are raining from the skies.

Agents of SHIELD is the kind of show that doesn't really work if the characters are on top of it all. When they had limited resources and all the time in the world, the show was super boring. We weren't watching people actually grapple with the issues of living in the MCU, we were just seeing the cases too little and boring to be made into movies. But when the show decided to focus on the disastrous effects of HYDRA being unveiled, it all worked.

And, credit to the writers, all that boring stuff in season one really helped establish the characters of the main group, so that when we got to the twist and when we revamped them in season two, the changes hit hard. We know who they're supposed to be, and so who they are now is incredibly devastating.

Honestly, I have high hopes for this season. Coulson's apparently on the verge of going space crazy because they injected him with that alien juice to keep him alive, and that's always compelling. If he goes nuts, then that means that Skye might go nuts too, unless her status as a probable 084 (object of unknown origin) saves her. And I am curious about what's up with her parentage. Plus, May and Coulson's relationship has gotten full on amazing since this revelation.

For me, though, Fitz's struggles to regain normalcy have become the most interesting part of the show. I already loved Fitz, because he's very lovable, but this season he's got that perfect mix of understandable angst and mild-woobie that just, ugh, hits me where it hurts. He misses Simmons like a limb, he's hurt and frustrated, and he doesn't know how to function anymore. Ward was one of his best friends, and Ward tried to kill him. 

If there's one scene that sold me on watching the new season, it's the one in episode three where Fitz accidentally stumbles his way into the room where they've been keeping Ward. He didn't know Ward was there, and suddenly he's face to face with the man who ruined his life. Fitz's actions are terrifying and devastating and I just... It's the kind of scene that reminds me why I watch television at all. So much character development paying off in one little scene.

Which is essentially what this season really is. Character development paying off. Yes, there are cases of the week, but they really don't matter. I mean, yeah, we're vaguely interested in what will happen, but the point of the show isn't that our heroes get the macguffin every week, it's that the cases reveal aspects of their personalities, and push them and needle them and create wonderful opportunities for growth.

Long story short, Agents of SHIELD has taken a level of awesome, and I am so okay with this.

*sobs*

NEWS: Holy Moly, Wonder Woman Movie! (And Marvel News Too)

$
0
0

This week it is very good to be a woman who likes comic books. Or comic book movies. Or novels based on comic books. Basically, it's really good to be a woman this week. Why?

First, the BIG one. DC has officially announced a stand-alone Wonder Woman movie for 2017. For real. Officially. Starring Gal Gadot. 

Excuse me, I am having trouble breathing. What is air?

This comes as big news, of course, because DC's been waffling about whether or not to even bother trying to do a Wonder Woman movie for years now, and this announcement is totally out of the blue and just... Way, way more than I ever expected. There will be a Wonder Woman movie in my lifetime. Hrrrrrgh.

Also they announced a Jason Momoa lead Aquaman movie, and that's pretty cool too. I think he might be the first non-white person to get his own standalone superhero franchise. So that is super rad. Good on you, DC. For once I am happy with you. It feels weird, but it's true.

At New York Comicon this weekend, Marvel announced that it was adding a whole slew of new female-led titles to its comics roster. After the amazing success of Edge of the Spiderverse #2, which featured "Spider-Gwen", an alternate reality where Gwen Stacy was bitten by a radioactive spider and became a superhero who also happened to play the drums in an all girl punk band, Marvel has decided to use that comic as the start of a whole new series. Starting in January, we're going to get a full monthly comic devoted to Spider-Gwen. Even better? She will still be the drummer of The MaryJanes, and still be best friends with MJ. Yessss.

Marvel also announced that alongside their already running solo comics for Peter Quill and Rocket, after the blockbuster success of Guardians of the Galaxy, Gamora is getting her own solo comic. Yay! It's reportedly going to get more in depth with her motivations in getting revenge on her "father" Thanos, will delve into her relationships with the other children of Thanos, and will feature lots of good old space adventuring assassin fun.

Black Widow might not be getting a movie yet, but she is getting her own young adult novel, following in the footsteps of She-Hulk and Rogue. I'll admit that I haven't yet read either of those novels (but I have the She-Hulk one on hold at my local library). Still, the book will be written by Margaret Stohl, who wrote the bestselling Beautiful Creatures series. So I'm pretty excited.

And yeah, the list keeps going. Peggy Carter isn't just getting her own show this winter with Agent Carter, she's also getting a solo comic: Original S.I.N. Well, I suppose it's technically not a solo comic, since she'll be sharing it with Howard Stark (the Dominic Cooper version), but still. Peggy and Howard fighting Nazis and all that cool stuff. It's meant to be a leadup to the actual premiere of Agent Carter, but I bet if we really try we can get it to be an ongoing. I mean, come on. We're ladies with a lot of purchasing power here. It's going to be written by Kathryn Immonen, who might not sound familiar, but should. She's the woman who wrote the spectacular Agent Carter one-shot that got this whole Peggy Carter ball rolling. All hail!

Finally, Marvel is putting out another new female-lead comic: Silk. This one will also be set in the Spiderverse, and will follow Cindy Moon, a woman bitten by the same radioactive spider that transformed Peter Parker. I don't know much more than that, but the art looks rad, and we can always use another WOC in our superhero world.

Basically the gist I'm getting is that Marvel and DC have finally both wised up to how much of their audience really is made up of women. We're here, and we have money. At last they have noticed us! This boon of new Marvel titles comes on the heels of the success of Ms. Marvel, the creation of female Thor and Sam Wilson taking over Captain America, as well as Spiderwoman getting her own title.

For DC, though, it's even more out of the blue. Granted, DC did just revamp its Batgirl comic, but aside from that there really hasn't been much to indicate that it's moving in a more progressive direction. Still waters run deep? I mean, historically DC has been much further behind on the diversity bandwagon, but it's nice to see them at least trying to catch up.

So, the basic gist? Wonder Woman movie. Black Widow novel. So. Many. Lady. Comics.

It's a beautiful day.


Con Report: Geek Girl Con '14 Cosplay Roundup!

$
0
0
You know what? Pretty sure you guys don't want any of my commentary clogging up your enjoyment of these truly rad cosplay pieces. So, without any commentary whatsoever, enjoy! [All photos are courtesy of Laura F., who is super rad.]


































Con Report: Interviews in Artist's Alley (Part 2)

$
0
0

Continuing from Wednesday, here are some more interviews with the artists displaying their stuff at Geek Girl Con 2014. The third part should be up soon - there were a lot of super talented artists there! I think for me the most heartening part of this was seeing all of these people making art that really mattered to them, that was kind of off the beaten path, but that made them happy. I can get behind that.


Fuerst got started with drawing fanart for Sailor Moon and Final Fantasy IX when she was a kid - seeing the gorgeous art used in the game made her realize that “this is someone’s job!” Not only could she do art for a living, she could make art for videogames for a living. Which is, it turns out, exactly what she does. She’s most proud of the game Skyborn, which you can buy on STEAM, but she’s also worked on Marvel Superhero Squad Online, and a whole host of games that never saw the light of day. Right now she’s working on a top secret project with Amazon gaming, and she’s pretty excited about what’s coming next.

I asked if there was anything she wanted to tell people, and she laughed, saying, “Tell them to buy my game [Skyborn] on STEAM!” But getting serious she added, “More women should get into the gaming industry. We need more voices.”


Bernard also found art inspiration in videogames, but she prefers the classic Legend of Zelda games, especially Ocarina of Time. She started out doing fanart, but has since transitioned into working on webcomics, and is currently running two simultaneously (which is impressive): Willem and Split Screen. What she wants you to know? “Read my webcomics!”

[Artist's Alley, copyright Laura F.]

Popplewell was originally classically trained for painting and printmaking, and now she really really wants to do full time nerd art. She draws inspiration from everything she watches, but she’s recently realized that she wants to go back and rewatch some old favorites so that she can use them for inspiration. Like, say, Princess Bride. She’d also like to do some more Doctor Who and Guardians of the Galaxy, but get past the standard poses and shots that everyone uses to really explore the characters.

When I asked what she’s planning for the future, she sort of laughed and said, “Going to New Zealand?” It’s the ultimate nerd dream after all. On the art side of things, she’s working on designing the art for a tarot set, working on an art book based on classic Norwegian fairy tales, and she would love to get into sci-fi novel covers and kids books. 

Her advice? “It’s important to be yourself. No matter how bad things get, it will get better. Whatever you love, it’s okay to geek out.”


“I draw it because I want it. I want to have it, so I make it.” In other words, Lapisi’s reasons for doing fanart are pretty simple: she wants stuff that no one else is making, so she figures she’d better make it herself! Right now she’s doing fanart, and also working on a webcomic, but there are understandable time limitations involved. It’s hard to write and draw a webcomic while working full time. Her big thing is that she loves drawing things because no one else is, drawing the art that no one else has thought of yet. She’d love to do webcomics full time, because as she puts it, “If you’re not making things for people, what’s the point?”

[Artist's Alley, copyright Laura F.]
Rebecca Flaum - Studio Catawampus

Obviously the first question I asked was where the name of her company came from. I mean, catawampus? What’s that from? Well, apparently it’s named after her super awkward cat. Which is great.

She started out doing a portrait project for school, making a portrait every week, but halfway through the year she ran out of family members and friends, and started doing portraits of fictional characters. Since she was posting them online to track her progress, fans kept finding her art and absolutely loved it. Plus, they were a lot of fun to do. She still sells prints of those portraits in her online shop, along with a series of fantasy inspired prints, and a series she calls “Incongruities”. Just generally she says she likes to make “anything that makes me smile.”

Right now, though, her big goal for the future is to have a goal for the future. She’d like to find a way to do art full time, preferably digital art, but she’s not sure what her path will be. Regardless, her big message to the world is, “Buy my art! And please smile.”

Katie Clark - Katie Clark Art!

I’ll be honest, the first thing I saw in Clark’s booth was a gorgeous paint portrait of Futurama’s Hypnotoad, and I came very close to buying it. Clark’s art is a mishmash of classical painting techniques, gorgeous frames, and portraits of unconventional videogame and television characters. Like, say, Hypnotoad. Or Yoshi. 

As a kid, Clark wanted to work for Nintendo, and as an adult, she did. But she quickly found that she actually hates desk work, and decided to leave the field after a couple of years in favor of working at home in her pajamas. As she said, “I tried on the American Dream, and it didn’t fit. I decided I’d rather play.” Now she does the art for herself, and she’s found a fair amount of success with that. In November her art will be on display in Victor’s Coffee in Redmond, WA. 

“Do what makes you happy. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

[The gaming floor, copyright Laura F.]

“Why do I art? Because I can’t help it!” Bonikowski, who specializes in complex pixel art that looks deceptively simple, started out by painting Day of the Dead skulls. She loved how she could use the same basic patterns but customize them to be personally meaningful, and from there she expanded into customizing her own fanart. She specializes in videogame art, particularly pixel art, “because it looks easy, but actually it’s really hard.” 

In her everyday life, Bonikowski counters the structure of pixel art by being a massage therapist, and she made it clear that while she loves art, she also loves doing things with her life that aren’t art. She’s not sure she would want to go full time, since massage therapy is also a big passion of hers. But she likes think this makes her a well-rounded person, and I agree.

When I asked what she wanted to tell people, she laughed and said that Katie Clark (whose booth was right next door) had stolen her answer, but then she elaborated. “Follow your heart. If you’re doing something just for a paycheck, find your way out of it and do what you love.” Then she started laughing and added, “But don’t make pixel art. It’s a terrible decision in life.”

Prison Break's Riots, Drills, and the Devil - How to Write Tension

$
0
0

Yesterday as I was laid up in bed with a nasty cold, I decided to finally get around to rewatching one of my old favorite shows: Prison Break. I was introduced to it just as the first season was airing, way back in 2006, and I was instantly hooked. It's a tense, thrilling, devastating show about the American prison and legal system, governmental conspiracies, brotherly love, and the consequences of our actions. It is almost entirely made up of things I love. (And a few things I hate, but we'll get to that later.)

Admittedly the first season of the show ended up being the only one worth watching, a fact that still disappoints me, but I am happy to go back and watch through twenty-two episodes of freaking phenomenal television. There's not a single episode in there that isn't tense, engaging, and absolutely brilliant. But within those episodes there are a couple that rise above even that high standard and have become the standard against which I judge all dramatic writing.

Yup. My standard for good dramatic writing - writing that keeps the reader hooked, continuously raises the stakes without falling into melodrama, and that manages to develop the characters simply by showing how they react to certain situations - is a two-part episode from season one titled, "Riots, Drills, and the Devil." It's so good.

But before I can drag you all through exactly how and why this episode is amazing (which it is), I should probably give you some background. The show Prison Break, which aired from 2005-2009 and was only good from 2005-2006, is about, you guessed it, a guy breaking out of prison. 

Our hero is Michael Scofield (Wentworth Miller), a seemingly well-off, cultured, intelligent man who we see in the first few minutes of the pilot hold up a bank with a gun and get himself arrested. He then proceeds to get himself the maximum sentencing at a local prison: Fox River. As the pilot unfolds, we start to understand why he's decided to get himself put in jail. He's going to break out, and he's going to bring his brother, Lincoln Burrows (Dominic Purcell) who is on death row, with him.

That's the show in a nutshell, but there are a lot of nuances to it. For startes, Lincoln's in prison for killing the vice president's brother - a crime the he strenuously claims he did not admit. He insists, and Michael agrees, that the evidence against him was manufactured by some opposing force or conspiracy. And, it turns out, he's right. But by this point in the season (just six episodes in or so) we don't know why.

Michael, meanwhile, is more than just a smart man who loves his brother. He's a freaking genius who is obsessively and a little weirdly close to his brother. Michael, who grew up with Lincoln as his primary parental figure after age eight, has strong abandonment issues, a keen analytical mind, and a blueprint of the prison tattooed on the upper half of his body. He's got this.

And, in a weird way, that's why the show works. Because the premise of the show isn't that Michael has to figure out how to break him and Lincoln out of prison before Lincoln is executed. Before the season even started, we're told, Michael figured out the plan to the most minute, ridiculous detail. He found out what other people were imprisoned at Fox River and who he could ask for favors or who he could blackmail into helping him. He planned the entire escape route and set an ambitious time schedule. Hell, he even figured out a way to make sure that his cellmate wouldn't rat on him for the escape attempt.

So the tension in the show isn't about wondering if Michael can break them out of prison, it's wondering what's going to happen that Michael hasn't planned for. In other words, the actual breaking out stuff is mostly handled. What's left is the human element. And that's where this episode comes in as one of the best I've ever seen on television.

Okay, so that's the setup for the show. Here's the setup for the episode. Michael and his cellmate Sucre (Amaury Nolasco) have already dug through the wall behind their toilet. If the toilet is in place you can't see anything, but there is in fact a giant hole there. 

The next step is that they need to drill through a giant wall of six inch concrete that's between them and an access tunnel that will lead to the next part of the escape. Unfortunately, Michael's plan requires them to do this at times when no one will notice that he's out of his cell, and since this is prison, that time is extremely limited. He has to drill through the wall in the next 24 hours or else they won't escape on time (as in, before Lincoln is executed).

That's the basic premise of the episode. In order to know where to drill, because there are other pipes back behind that concrete wall that lead to less friendly pipes that might be full of explosive gas, Michael has set up a sketch of the devil, taken from his tattoo, that will show them the exact points to drill through in order to upset the tensile strength of the wall. Because Michael is a crazy brilliant engineer and also a little crazy.

But, again, it's hard to drill seven precise holes in a wall with an eggbeater if you're constantly having to come back to your cell for headcount. What's a con to do? Well, the only way to stop the count is to get the whole prison block put on lockdown, where the guards lock their cell doors and leave them all to stew for a few days. Sucre and Michael figure that if they can do this, they can finish the wall and continue as scheduled. Only that means they have to figure out a way to agitate the prisoners into getting put on lockdown.

The key? Break the air conditioning and everyone will be so hot and grumpy that they'll get riled up. Problem solved.

And, to a large extent, it works. That's what's so great about this episode. Michael breaks the air conditioning and the prisoners get riled up (because it's freaking hot and they live in a place with no windows), so the guards put them on lockdown. His plan works. But because he's Michael and because this show is brilliant, he forgets about the human element. Yes, the guards put the block on lockdown. But then the prisoners turn it into a full fledged riot, storming the guards, taking the guard booth, and unleashing anarchy in the prison for two full episodes. In other words, Michael gets exactly what he wants, and the consequences are ones he is not prepared to deal with.

What makes this episode really amazing, though, is that the hits just keep on coming. Because of setup we saw in previous episodes, Lincoln was, at the time the riot broke out, meeting with his lawyers and discussing the conspiracy against him. The lawyers leave and go to check out an other lead, but that means Lincoln is being escorted back to his cell when the prisoners come through. His guard (Michael Cuditz) is a rookie who's just trying to do a good job, and Lincoln likes him. But as the only guard not locked away from them, the prisoners decide he's the perfect target and swarm Linc to get him.

The guard ends up prisoner of T-Bag (Robert Knepper, in the role that made him a critical darling), and dragged through the prison as a token of the prisoner's power. T-Bag shoves the guard into an unused cell so that he can have his way with him (T-Bag is a convicted rapist and murderer, so this is not at all surprising), only to find a giant hole in the wall. Because it's Michael's cell. So now T-Bag and a guard have seen the hole and know about the escape. Crap.

John Abruzzi (Peter Stormare), the mob boss that Michael is blackmailing into helping him, discovers T-Bag and the guard in there and is enraged to find that T-Bag immediately wants in on the escape. More than that, he's prepared to scream their plans to the whole prison if Abruzzi doesn't count him in, and he'll kill the guard to sweeten the pot. Michael, of course, is horrified to find that T-Bag knows, and even more horrified by the idea of him killing a cop, so he just insists that the cop stay alive. They'll figure something out. Besides, as long as they have a hostage, prison SWAT and the national guard aren't going to come in after them.

On top of all of this, Michael finds out that Dr. Sara Tancredi (Sarah Wayne Callies) is trapped in a room of the infirmary during the riot. She's in danger of being pulled out and abused as a symbol of the prisoner's power (as well as because she's pretty much the only young woman in the whole prison). Michael, who knows that all of this is his fault, decides to go rescue her. He'll go, Sucre will keep drilling through the wall, and Abruzzi will watch T-Bag and the guard.

Obviously that is not what ends up happening.

So now we've got like four different, vitally compelling and tense storylines. Add onto that the fact that Lincoln is now being targeted by a contract killer from within the prison (as setup in previous episodes). The guy plans to use the prison riot as a distraction so he can kill Linc and have it look like an accident. And outside the prison walls there's tension too. Lincoln's lawyers, Veronica (Robin Tunney) and Nick (Frank Grillo) fly to Washington DC to follow up on a lead and find themselves in the crosshairs of a conspiracy much bigger than they thought.

Oh, and LJ (Marshall Allman), Lincoln's son, is watching the news about the riot on television, freaking out about his father and uncle being in there, when he comes to blows with his stepfather over issues that have been building all season. Also the Warden (Stacy Keach) and Governor Tancredi (John Heard) nearly come to blows over how the Warden is handling this, and the fact that Dr. Sara Tancredi, the Governor's daughter, is trapped inside. Meanwhile conniving prison guard Bellick (Wade Williams) tries to use this as the perfect opportunity to overthrow the Warden as head of the prison.

There's kind of some stuff going on. And all of it is crucial and tense and compelling and, this is the key bit, completely related to everything else that's going on. No single storyline is unrelated, and everything that happens in the episode happens because Michael needed some more time to drill. That? That is good writing.

Screw it, that's actually amazing writing. Because while this would be fantastic writing on its own, it's made even better by the fact that all of this serves pretty much as backdrop for some stunning character development in every single storyline. By this point we know who all of the major players are (so far) and these two episodes serve show us more about who these characters will become by placing them in stressful and unusual situations and letting them go.

Because the stakes are so high for everyone, and because these episodes afford the opportunity for characters who've never worked together to interact, we come out of it knowing a hell of a lot more about everyone, and not in a way that feels trite or manipulated or involved a single flashback. We didn't need flashbacks or exposition. We just needed to see how the characters interact.

I'm not going to go through all of the characters and explain their development, because that would take forever, but just let me point it out with T-Bag. These two episodes are really where he became one of the main characters and a force to be reckoned with. Up until this point we knew next to nothing about him. 

In these episodes alone we come to find out that, yes, T-Bag is racist and perverted, but he's also a gifted public speaker who can rally an entire prison block around him - dude would have made an amazing politician. We find out that his character is the product of incest, and that his parents are screwed up on a level that no other character can touch.

More than that, though, we spend time with T-Bag, and we really get to know him. We sit in that jail cell with just him and a guard for chunks of the episode. And all he does is talk. That's all he has to do. He sits in that jail cell and has a nice friendly conversation about the man's children and his wife and what it must have been like to see his baby girl go off to prom. It's one of the most unnerving scenes I know of. Then, when the riot is done and they no longer need a prisoner, T-Bag holds back until the others go by, then shanks the guard in front of everyone. By the end of these two episodes, T-Bag has established himself as the single most dangerous person in the whole prison, and also essential to the escape. It's just plain brilliant writing.

Now, caveat time, I don't think everyone should just troop off and watch Prison Break. It's really really really not for everyone. It takes a strong stomach and a soft squishy stuffed animal to get through most of the episodes. So, no, you probably shouldn't watch it unless you already know that you like this kind of thing.

But I do think it's worthwhile to examine shows that know what they're doing and do it very well, like this one. "Riots, Drills, and the Devil" may not be an episode with universal appeal, but it does demonstrate perfectly how to write complex drama that never lags or stops or fails to deliver. The kew to that, in a nutshell is this: consequences and character development.

The whole theme of this episode is consequences. Because Michael broke the AC, all of these things happened. But it's also deeper than all of that. Because Michael decided to save Lincoln, a lot of things happen that would not have otherwise ever happened. In fact, when you look at the show, it's arguable that Michael should have just let Lincoln die, and everyone's lives would have been better.

So clearly consequences make for a compelling story. Also necessary, though, is that through the development of these consequences our characters find more of their true personalities being revealed. For example, this is the episode that we discover that Michael does not, in fact, think of the plan before all else. He's willing to scrap the plan for a little while in order to save a woman who's just in the wrong place at the wrong time. We also learn that even though Lincoln is generally resigned to dying in his execution, he's really not okay with dying anytime before then. Character development. It's important.

Like I said above, I don't think Prison Break is a perfect show. There are some things in here that bother me, like the utter lack of interesting, non-damseled or fridged female cahracters, and the fact that the show is bizarrely white for being set in a prison. But these are minor quibbles when compared with how awesome a job the show does at, well, pretty much everything else.

Basically, if you want to write a drama, figure out how to give it stakes and figure out how those stakes and the actions your characters will take to overcome them will affect every other character in the story. We do not exist in a bubble - all of our actions are interconnected. If you want to write and write well, you need to remember that.

Also, any nightmares you have about being chased are probably good fodder for scenes like this.

Think of the Children! Tuesday: Book of Life and Cultural Sharing

$
0
0

There is no word I can think of that more aptly describes Book of Life than “charming”. As in, “It was so freaking charming. I am so freaking charmed.” I say this because these are actual quotes of my roommate and I leaving the theater, still stuck in a world of magic and wonder and all you can eat churros, thinking about how happy we were to see that movie, even if it was in an empty theater late on a rainy Monday night.

I’ve been excited for this project for a while, actually, ever since I heard that Guillermo del Toro was producing an animated film set in his home country of Mexico and devoted to telling a story from traditional Mexican folklore. Those are words that I enjoy hearing, so I was pretty pumped. Then when I heard who was in the cast (Zoe Saldana, Diego Luna, Ron Perlman, Danny Trejo, Cheech Marin, Anjelah Johnson-Reyes, Channing Tatum), I got even more excited and confused. 

What the crack could this movie be? Was it possible that this was the holy grail of children’s animated flicks? Were we really going to get a movie about a non-white culture, with entirely non-white characters, that was produced faithfully and lovingly by a cast and crew of predominantly non-white people?

As it turns out, yes. Yes that is exactly what happened. I am so so happy right now.

Now I’ll be up front and say that I know next to nothing about traditional Mexican culture or folklore. Seriously, I know extremely little. But that neither hindered my enjoyment of this film, nor did it make it seem like this movie wasn’t for me. Rather the opposite, actually. In a very real sense, this movie feels like an attempt to explain and celebrate Mexican folklore in a way that non-Mexicans can understand.

The story is a complex but delightful one. On the Day of the Dead, the two rulers of the Realms of the Dead come to earth and watch over the mortals as they celebrate their ancestors. One of the rulers, La Muerte (Kate del Castillo), rules over the Realm of the Remembered. She’s warm and kind and loves people because she believes they are inherently good. In her realm live all of the dead who are still remembered by their families and loved ones.

The other ruler, Xibalba (Ron Perlman), rules over the Realm of the Forgotten, a cold wasteland of souls who have been completely forgotten by those in the Realm of the Living. He hates it there. It’s cold and miserable and he hates it just like he hates humanity. But since he was banished there for cheating during his last bet with La Muerte, there’s nothing he can do. Unless…

Xibalba challenges La Muerte to another wager. If he wins, they’ll switch places. And if she wins, he’ll forever stop interfering with the living. Which, since it’s the only fun he ever gets, is something he’s not prepared to do.

The wager is this: Maria, the town sweetheart in San Angel, has two friends. Her friends, Manolo and Joaquin, are both clearly in love with her. So each of the rulers picks a side and chooses their champion. The bet will be completed when Maria chooses which of the boys she will marry. Xibalba chooses Joaquin, son of the town’s last hero and a strapping young lad who loves fighting and bravery. He gives him a special medal (the medal of everlasting life) to give him a heads up. After all, every girl falls in love with a big strong man, right?

La Muerte, though, chooses Manolo, the sweet, sensitive guitar-playing boy whose family wants him to grow up to be a bullfighter. She bestows a blessing too, but her blessing is simply that Manolo will always stay true to his heart.

It’s funny because from this point on you really do know exactly who’s going to win the bet. There’s no question that Maria and Manolo are totally right for each other. And, to a large extent, that’s the point. The fun of the story isn’t whether or not Maria will choose Manolo, it’s how all of this will go down.

So we fast forward ten years or so, until Maria (Zoe Saldana) has returned from being educated in Spain, and Manolo (Diego Luna) and Joaquin (Channing Tatum) are all grown up. Joaquin has become renowned throughout Mexico as a great hero who fights the bandits and is the only one who can protect them from the evil bandit Chakal, while Manolo is mostly known as a potentially good, but shamefully laid back, bullfighter.

Maria’s father, who happens to be the mayor, shoves Maria towards Joaquin, but she prefers Manolo. As Xibalba watches, he realizes that he’s going to lose the bet, and so he decides to cheat. When Manolo and Maria meet at dawn to talk about getting married, Xibalba enchants a snake to bite Maria, seemingly killing her. Manolo is devastated as is the whole town. He falls down and sobs that it should have been him.

Of course, Xibalba immediately appears and agrees that it should have been him. So, is Manolo willing to sacrifice himself to be with Maria again? Manolo is, and then two snakes appear and bite him. He dies.

And then immediately wakes up in the land of the Dead, the Realm of the Remembered! He figures that Maria must be there too, and he searches all over for her. But before he finds her, he runs into his whole extended (dead) family, including his mother and grandfather and all the Sanchez bullfighters who came before him. They all agree to take him to La Muerte’s castle so she can help him find Maria.

Upon reaching the castle, though, they discover Xibalba has already taken residence. See, Maria isn’t dead. That one snake bite only put her in a trance. Joaquin was able to wake her up pretty quickly. But two snake bites? That’s lethal. And now Maria will marry Joaquin, and Xibalba will win the bet.

But Manolo isn’t going to take this lying down. He knows that if La Muerte found out Xibalba cheated, she would annul the bet. So all he has to do is make his way down to the Realm of the Forgotten and tell her.

Much, much easier said than done.

Okay, I’m going to stop recapping here, because you should all just go see the movie for yourselves. But trust me that this is only the beginning, and the whole story takes you on this rollercoaster through all the realms, through true love and sacrifice, and in the end you just can’t stop smiling because it’s so wonderful.

Even if this were a generic story, and I weren’t so invested in cultural representation in children’s media, I would still be pretty pumped. Because it’s a freaking well made movie. It’s beautifully written, funny, gorgeous to look at, and all of the characters are interesting and fleshed out. For all that Maria is “the girl” and basically a prize the guys are fighting over, she’s actually a really well realized character. She’s irritated by their rivalry, gets pissed when all anyone talks about is who she will marry, and is effortlessly badass in a way that doesn’t feel like a joke.

Joaquin, who would be easy to write off as “the bad guy” simply because he’s the one who doesn’t get the girl in the end, is actually a pretty fun character. He and Manolo genuinely are good friends, and they don’t let their rivalry over Maria get in the way of that. Sure, he’s a braggart and he thinks every battle can be won with fists and he doesn’t have very enlightened views on marriage, but none of that is presented as being bad guy material. He’s just not the right guy for Maria, and to a large extent he knows it. We even get the impression that when all is said and done, he doesn’t want to marry her anyway, because he knows she loves Manolo.

And Manolo? Yes, he is the sweet, sensitive romantic archetype, but he’s a very well thought out iteration of that trope. He’s an accomplished musician as well as an accomplished bullfighter, and his great fear is not that he will get hurt or even that Maria will not love him back. It’s that he will disappoint his family (who are famously all bullfighters) by following his heart. Also he’s a bullfighter who refuses to kill the bull and at one point literally sings his way to victory. How can you not love this guy?

Granted, there are things about this movie that aren’t perfect. As great as all of the female characters are, it still only barely edges its way over the Bechdel Test. And while Maria is a really compelling and fully realized character, she’s still basically the ball in a game of soccer between Manolo and Joaquin. The third act is okay, but parts of it felt a little perfunctory. Like, of course the MacGuffin is coming into play here. And of course they can only defeat the bad guy together. Not bad tropes by any means, but there were moments when I wished for a touch of the originality that flows through this whole film to hit the third act.

Still. Those are incredibly minor complaints, and the overall effect of this movie is one of wonder. The story is charming, the characters are lovely, the art is gorgeous, and the whole message is just so freaking wholesome and heartwarming and true. Guh. I mean, it’s a kids’ movie about how the truest form of love is self-sacrifice. How is this not your favorite thing ever?

Purely from a technical standpoint as well, the film is just masterfully done. In order to get around the people like me who know absolutely jack about Mexican folklore, the film built into itself a framing device: this is all a traditional story being told to a group of school kids on a museum field trip. But the framing device actually manages to transcend its origins as a simple excuse for voiceover narration and becomes a compelling storyline of its own when we grow to really care about the kids hearing the story. Because it’s not an accident that they’re hearing it. They’re hearing it because they need to learn how to live a good life. And that’s pretty awesome in and of itself.

There’s just so much to love in this film. For me, though, it really feels like the anti-Disney film. In the best possible way, I mean. Because where Frozen used parts of native cultures appropriatively, with no reference to the origin and meaning of those cultural symbols, Book of Life is completely steeped in its culture. It’s not a movie with some Mexican stuff thrown in for the sake of “political correctness” nor is it a film shamelessly ripping off indigenous culture. It’s a film by Mexicans for everyone about Mexican culture.

Heck, in the beginning few minutes of the movie the narrator actually says, “Now, as we all know, Mexico is the center of the world.” And she is neither kidding, nor being intentionally ironic. She’s just stating a fact. Mexico is the center of the world. And, yeah. This is a Mexican folktale, so Mexico in this story is the center of the world. That’s a given.

It pretty much highlights the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural sharing. Because this is a movie made for a predominantly non-Hispanic audience (hence why they’re always explaining everything), but it’s made with love. As a sort of, “Here’s what we love about our culture. You are free and welcome to love it too.” And I want more of that in the world. That’s a great thing. It’s not about us coming in and taking anyone’s culture, it’s about them deciding to share it. Who doesn’t want more of that?

Major props are due to the writer/director, Jorge R. Gutierrez, who reportedly worked for fourteen years to get this to screen. Apparently studio executives were convinced that no one would want to see a “Hispanic story”. Which is total crap. But if this movie doesn’t blow them away at the box office, I’m a little afraid it’ll become an excuse for them to not bankroll the next amazing culturally sensitive film that comes along.

Which brings us to my plea for everyone to freaking watch this film. It’s appropriate for all ages, inherently wonderful and full of joy, and just the sort of thing that you want to see on a dreary October day leading up to Halloween. So please go see this movie. Please. You won’t regret it.



Pilot Season: The Flash (A Superhero Movie Every Week)

$
0
0

It’s pretty rare for any show to come out of the gate swinging, to be fully formed and ready to go in the first three episodes. It’s even rarer for a show that is essentially one big corporate synergy advertisement to do this. Generally speaking what we saw with Agents of SHIELD is the norm. A show struggles to find its footing in the first half of the first season or so, and then somewhere along in there it clicks and suddenly the show works and is great and we’re all on board for the ride.

In the rare case when this doesn’t happen, I always feel a little suspicious. Like with shows that immediately wow their audience, I’m always kind of worried that this means that they spent all their best material in the first few episodes and there’s nothing left to keep them going. Take for example the first seasons of Heroes and Prison Break and even Glee. These are all shows that by and large were consistently great in their first seasons, that never really needed a minute to figure out what they were doing, and that collectively pooped the bed in the second season.

So when I tell you that The Flash is hilarious and wonderful and fully realized right out of the gate, I hope you understand the level of trepidation that gives me. It makes me nervous when a show knows what it’s doing so early on. And I’ve got stats to back me up.

But only time will tell if Flash is going to have staying power or not. The real question I’m here to answer is a lot simpler. Should you watch it? Hell yes you should.

The Flash is the kind of show that really arguably shouldn’t work but absolutely totally does. It’s based on one of the better known but not really as popular figures from the DC canon, features a rogue’s gallery that virtually no one remembers, and stars an actor whose previous major role was as a bit character on Glee. In all logic, this show really shouldn’t work. But it does.

It works because, as it turns out, all of those things are assets, not hindrances. Sure, The Flash is pretty much no one’s favorite superhero (I mean, logically he’s probably someone’s, but you get what I mean), and this iteration of the Flash is even less popular than the better known Wally West version, but that’s why the story works. Just like how no one watches Arrow and gets all upset at the way the show mangles Green Arrow’s lore, no one really cares enough about The Flash to get upset if the show changes something. Which is great.

See, this show has the exact opposite situation from Gotham. There the show kind of fails because the source material is so well known, and so popular, and the characters are so memorable, that the writers feel like they’re tied to the source material. They can’t deviate more than an inch without fearing legions of angry fans and angry studio executives.

The Flash, meanwhile, benefits from a sort of laissez-faire approach, the CW’s specialty, where it can do pretty much whatever it wants with the original material, as long as it makes a show that feels like the original property. And so, they did. And it’s freaking great.

The basic premise of the show adheres pretty well with the comics (though I have to admit that I really know very little about the Flash comics because I just never got into them). Barry Allen (Grant Gustin) is a chronically late, messy, adorable CSI tech in love with his best friend Iris (Candice Patton). On the night that the Star Labs particle accelerator goes online, though, his life changes dramatically. A massive storm interrupts the particle accelerator, sending a wave of energy stuff through the city. Barry himself is hit by a lightening bolt. He nearly dies.

But he doesn’t die, because that would be a terrible beginning for the show! Instead, he wakes up months later in a hospital bed at Star Labs to find that while he was sleeping the world changed around him. The particle accelerator explosion killed a fair number of people in the city, and created a number of metahumans, including him. Barry now has the ability to go really, really, really fast, and he has absolutely no idea what to do with this new power.

Fortunately for him, the good folk of Star Labs are happy to help him test his powers. From Harrison Wells (Tom Cavanaugh), the CEO of Star Labs who was crippled in the explosion, to Caitlin Snow (Danielle Panabaker), whose fiance died that night, to Cisco Ramon (Carlos Valdes) who was right there when Caitlin’s fiance died, they’ve all got explosion-related baggage. They’re eager to find that something good came out of the blast.

And that good thing turns out to be Barry, who quickly decides that he wants to use his superspeed and advanced healing to help the good people of Central City deal not only with crazed metahumans like himself, but also with run of the mill muggers and bank robberies and carjackings. 

Contrary to most superhero shows, Barry doesn’t really do much to keep his superhero identity secret. Not only does the whole Star Labs crew know about him, his foster father, Detective Joe West (Jesse L. Martin) does too, and he finds out in the very first episode. True, Barry’s best friend and longtime crush Iris doesn’t know, but she is always pretty much on the verge of finding out.

So yeah. Mostly Barry fights crime and is a nerd and saves people with the power of compassion and being really really fast. There’s also a plotline about Barry’s mother, who was killed when he was a kid. The cops (including Detective West) arrested his father for the crime, but Barry and his father both maintain that she was killed by “a man in a streak of light”. Which is a pretty accurate description of the Flash, so probably we’ve got a bad guy with the same powers thing going on here.

Also we’ve got the obligatory romantic story going in the background. Barry is hopelessly in love with Iris, who is totally oblivious and (secretly) dating her father’s partner, Eddie (Rick Cosnett). Ah the traditional love triangle. Of course, it’s made a little more complicated by the fact that Iris and Eddie are genuinely super cute together, and Iris and Barry don’t really ping that way, and Barry has amazing chemistry with Caitlin, actually. Kind of hoping the show pulls an Arrow and changes the romantic plotline accordingly.

Oh, and there is some weirdness going on with Harrison Wells, the CEO of Star Labs. Great weirdness, I should add. It’s unclear now whether or not he’s a bad guy, but he’s certainly an amoral guy with a mysterious agenda, and that is a fantastic little Easter egg to have in the background of all of his scenes. Also he might have superpowers. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I love it.

This is what all is happening in The Flash, but the real heart of the show is with Barry and his desire to help people. It’s funny, because this is a DC property, but it really feels like one of the Marvel movies. It’s a world where there are people with superpowers but the heroes focus on saving everyone, the little people too, instead of just fighting supervillains. It’s a show about the little guys. And that’s what makes it so darn watchable and so much fun to tune in to every week. 

Plus the writing is top notch, really doing a great job of blending the necessary drama with some wry and slapstick humor that keeps it all humming. The cast is pleasantly diverse, though white dudes still abound, and the world of the show is neither so dark it’s kind of confusing why anyone still lives in this city, nor so complex and unknowable that it’s hard to follow the plot. Central City feels like a real place with real problems, that just happens to have a surprisingly large metahuman population. No big deal.

As for how this show will tie in with the other DC properties, from TV to movies to comics, remains to be seen. The show already has a strong link to the other CW show Arrow, and will be crossing over (officially) next week. But they’ve already crossed over in the pilot, and last year when there was an episode of Arrow that served as a backdoor pilot for The Flash. So clearly that relationship is solid.

It doesn’t seem overly likely that The Flash will cross over with Gotham any time soon. Not only are they on completely different networks with completely different tones, they also happen in very different time frames. Gotham is a prequel, so it’s not likely to crossover with The Flash, that happens in the present day, give or take. 

Of course, the powers that be have yet to confirm or deny whether or not the upcoming Justice League movies will exist in the same universe as these television shows. I kind of doubt it, to be honest, but there’s always time to change my mind. See, I don’t think they’ll crossover with the movies because The Flash is so completely tonally different from the “no jokes” ethos of the official Warner Brothers DC movies. I just don’t see it happening.

But maybe that’s for the best. After all, comics have been maintaining separate universes and storylines for the same characters and worlds for like half a century now, and that’s worked out pretty well for the fans. I won’t complain if they do decide to make it all one universe like Marvel has, but I’m not holding my breath.

The real upshot here is pretty much just if you like superhero movies, and fun, and warm fuzzy feelings, then you should watch The Flash. Yes, it might burn and crash in a season or two. But for now, it’s one of the funnest shows on television, and well worth your time.


Marvel, DC, and the Diversity Arms Race

$
0
0

Yesterday a friend and I were joking around about DC and Marvel when she pointed out that while Marvel did just announce a whole bunch of new comics titles featuring women, DC just greenlit a bunch of solo movies featuring women and men of color. To which I added that DC has just announced a Static Shock live action television show, and then we both remembered that we're getting not only Agent Carter from Marvel, but also shows centered around Jessica Jones and the Heroes for Hire.

In other words, Marvel and DC appear to be in some kind of giant diversity arms race, and it's pretty much the best thing ever.

I've been noticing this for a while, but it took until yesterday for me to really realize what was going on. And that's because for a long time, Marvel's been sort of playing this game on its own while the executives over at DC decided whether or not they were going to engage. But they did engage, and with the announcement of the Wonder Woman movie, as well as casting men of color for Aquaman and Green Lantern, they shot back in a big way. The diversity war is on!

What's funny, though, is that I feel like most people aren't understanding why this is so awesome. If you go on tumblr you'll find a lot of posts taking sides. Yelling at Marvel for not greenlighting a single solo movie for a non-white male superhero. Arguing that all DC is going to do is screw up these characters that we love. We've gotten so used to diversity being used against us that it's hard to look up and see that the tide is changing. But it is. Celebrate!

No, seriously, celebrate with me! Because the tide really has changed. Both Marvel and DC are acknowledging that they need diverse characters and diverse storylines in order to sell their products. Not only that, but the social capital they can gain by announcing these projects has officially become more important than the social capital they could possibly gain by appealing to "mainstream comics fans". Because, as it turns out, mainstream comics fans like diversity too.

The thing to remember about the diversity arms race is that no matter who wins, we all benefit. There is no lose here. Marvel and DC are going to go after each other see who can greenlight more diverse projects first? Well that is officially my best day ever. 

In the game of diversity, everyone wins. It's not like the fact that DC is making a Wonder Woman movie is going to mean they stop making Batman movies. It's not like making Aquaman a Pacific Islander is going to mean Arrow gets cancelled. It's not like giving Peggy her own show means people will no longer care about Steve Rogers. It's actually the opposite. The more of this stuff we get, the more of it we can appreciate. The more we can find stuff to love, and the less we will all fall on one particular property and tear it to shreds for not accurately representing all of us all the time.

The more diverse media we get, the more we all benefit. I'll be honest, I don't give two craps about Aquaman normally. But am I going to watch Jason Momoa tear it up in that standalone movie? Heck yes I am!

It's easy to see this in a bad light, though. Because if we assume that there are limited resources, that there are only so many projects that Hollywood can greenlight, that there are only so many comics stores will sell, that there are only so many shows the networks can film, it can be easy to think that we can't actually have it all. That we can only have Batman or Wonder Woman, not both.

As it turns out, though, that is complete crap.

Take Sherlock Holmes adaptations, for example. Not only are there two currently running shows based on the crime novel series (BBC's Sherlock and CBS'Elementary), we've also got the Robert Downey Jr. films, the mockbuster films that go along with that (starring Gareth David Lloyd, as it happens), and a whole host of other properties using the Sherlock Holmes characters, ideas, and stories. And you know what? That's freaking great. Seriously. None of these shows or movies has suffered from the competition. Arguably they've all succeeded because of it. Because someone who watches Sherlock heard about Elementary and decided to give it a try. In the game of diversity, everybody wins.

This fall has been really awesome for me as a television lover. I mean, other years have had more female lead shows by the numbers, but this year has had an overwhelming number of shows coming on the air that are racially diverse, feature compelling female characters, and have the full support of their networks and studios. Shows like Selfie, which features an Asian-American man as the romantic lead, and Jane the Virgin, which features a predominantly Hispanic cast and a story centered around a young woman's sexual history, and even Forever, which centers on a white male lead, sure, but also includes a Hispanic leading woman as well as a diverse, compelling cast of secondary characters.

In other words, this year is a good year to be a person who likes diverse media. It's hard to remember that sometimes, if I'm honest. I spend so long staring at all the worst stuff that pop culture has to offer, that it's difficult to take a step back and realize, hey, you know what happened this year? Lucy, a female lead action movie, dominated the summer box office. Maleficent? Made a ton of money. Frozen is freaking universally beloved (much as I take issue with some of it), and Disney just announced that their next princess movie? It's gonna be Moana, about a Pacific Islander explorer princess.

I don't think the fight is over, but I do think the tide has turned. Look around, guys. We did it. There is so much good stuff happening. There are op-eds on major websites talking about the need for more diverse media. We're gonna get another Disney princess of color. Marvel and DC are in a diversity arms race.

So let's egg this thing on! Let's get Marvel and DC at each other's throats to prove once and for all who can make the most inclusive, diverse, compelling stories! Let's goad Marvel into finally giving us Black Widow and Black Panther and Captain Marvel movies. Let's taunt DC into making a Harley Quinn TV show, a Power Girl show, a Zatanna movie. Heck, let's get Sony and 20th Century Fox involved and make them give us Miles Morales on the big screen and a Storm solo picture. We finally have the social power to make a difference.

Everybody wins.


The Art of Colorblind Casting on BBC Radio's Neverwhere

$
0
0

I know it sounds weird to say it, but the recent BBC Radio 4 broadcast of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere was one of the most racially diverse, wonderfully colorblind casts I've heard in recent memory, and I am overwhelmed with joy at the way that the radio program made a point to include characters of color in the story. More than that, they went out of their way to turn implicitly white characters into characters of color, using not only the casting process but also allowing the actors to use non-standardized English accents to imply a world of great racial diversity and ethnic heritage.

What's super cool about this, of course, is that they really didn't have to. I mean, the program in question is a radio broadcast. It'd be kind of funny if they didn't include any people of color in the casting, but honestly they could have easily argued that with a non-visual medium, there was no real demand for it. But they didn't do that. They went the extra mile, and that's really freaking awesome.

To back up a couple of spaces, the radio program I'm referring to here is called Neverwhere. Broadcast in March of 2013, the show is now available on iTunes (and probably some other places). It's a couple of hours long, and follows the plot of Neil Gaiman's original Neverwhere novel quite closely. The only difference? Well, it's a radio broadcast, so everything that happens has to be conveyed through dialogue and sound effects. They did a good job, it's a well done program.

Our hero is Richard Mayhew (James McAvoy), a Scottish boy come down to London for a big fancy job in the city. He's got a high maintenance fiancee he can't really stand (Romola Garai), a job he doesn't particularly like, and an apartment he's only so-so on. All of this changes, though, when Richard stops to help a poor homeless girl, Door (Natalie Dormer) who's been injured outside his apartment. He brings her in and bandages her up, but finds that not only is she not really from around here, she's also being chased by two very frightening men (Anthony Head and David Schofield).

So Richard, who is a kind soul, helps Door find her friend, the Marquis de Carabas (David Harewood) and go on her merry way. By now Richard has come to find that there is a magical world underneath London, called London Below, and that whatever Door is mixed up in, it's got to do with this crazy place.

The story really gets going, though, when Richard goes back to his flat and his job and his life, satisfied that he a did a good thing helping Door but ready to put it all behind him, only to discover that his old life doesn't fit him anymore. More than that, he doesn't really exist anymore. No one can see him, no one recognizes him, and it's like he never was. He's fallen through the cracks, and now the only place left for him to go is the sewers and tunnels of London Below, hoping he can find Door and find a way back up to the world Above.

That's the basic gist of the story, as far as I can tell you without getting into too much detail and ruining the whole suspense thing. Richard helps Door find out what happened to her family while he also searches for a way back to his old life. The details are awesome and unusual, but like I said, what really stands out here is that casting.

In the book, none of the characters have a set or determined race. Neil Gaiman isn't the sort of writer, thank goodness, that generally goes around describing people's skin tones, and most of his works, while very culturally white, are colorblind when it comes to the specific appearances of their characters. 

Yet, as we've already seen in relation to Welcome to Night Vale, race is possible to convey in a completely auditory medium. Furthermore, it is possible to emphasis racial diversity, even in a medium where the audience cannot see the characters. Even more? It's important to do this. Very important.

Because while race is not explicitly conferred by the way that people speak, there are implicit signals that we interpret and understand as racial signifiers. A certain turn of phrase or accent or cadence can imply a racial background. For white people, we're used to hearing white cultural phrasing and accent as the default, and all others as deviations from the form. But for non-white listeners, it must be incredibly refreshing and comforting to hear implicit racial signifiers in the speaker's voice that convey familiarity and a shared background.

And since white speech is generally considered "educated" and "proper", how wonderful to hear a variety of accents and voices on BBC of all things! A whole plethora of non-standard accents telling a story about the outcasts and magical denizens of a London filled with strange and wonderful places. These accents imply to the listeners that London Below, and therefore the world of magic and fantasy, do not belong solely to white people, but rather to everyone. And that's a pretty important message.

So it matters a lot that even in the list of the main three characters (Richard, Door, and the Marquis), one of them is a person of color. It matters that Hunter, the greatest fighter and survivalist the world has ever known, who slew the tiger of Calcutta, and a thousand other mighty beasts since time began, is voiced by Sophie Okonedo. It matters that the BlackFriars are predominantly voiced by men of color, and led by George Harris as the Abbott.

Actually, I want to pull the BlackFriars out as a particular example, because I absolutely love how they're done in this version. Like it says above, in the book the BlackFriars have no determined race. They have weird funny names, and they like tea, and they've been guarding their keys and secrets for a thousand years or more, but we don't know a whole lot about what they look like or who they really are. They're rather minor characters, all told.

Which makes it all the cooler that the directors here made an intentional choice to give the BlackFriars identifiable non-English accents. If I had to take a guess, I'd say they sound West African, but I am by no means an expert. Whatever the actual origin of the accents, the men are clearly identified by their voices as non-white, and potentially non-native. Only they're monks who guard a secret underneath London and belong to a society that's been in place for thousands of years. And they're not white.

Cue the screams of joy and gladness that a fictional work is acknowledging the presence of black people in London prior to the eighteen hundreds!

You see, it's not just notable that the casting director included actors of color at all, it's also worth pointing out that the roles these actors play are ones that we rarely see actors of color in. The Marquis de Carabas is a member of the nobility. Sure, it's the nobility of London Below, and he's a disreputable character with shady morals, but it's really important that he's a nobleman. He's a black nobleman. That's great!

Hunter is established as the most badass badass to ever badass, she's thousands of years old, and she's black. How cool is that? How cool is it for the little kid listening to the radio to hear this super awesome woman fighting monsters and being amazing, only to look up her actress and see a woman who looks like them! 

A nobleman, an ageless warrior, and a kindly old man of God? These are exactly the kind of complex, compelling, interesting roles that we want to see more actors of color get. So yeah, it's a little weird to compliment a radio program on its colorblind casting, but that's precisely what I want to do here. Bravo, Neverwhere. Not only did you make a really good radio program, you also did it while expanding our understanding of what it means to be British. All of the characters in this program are incredibly British, and all of them belong to London. Thank you for making it clear that not all of them are white.

Think of the Children! Tuesday: ParaNorman and Communication

$
0
0

Ah Halloween. That lovely time of year when tumblr goes freaking nuts (not that it's really the paragon of sanity the rest of the year), candy goes up in price, and I have an excuse to dress up like a goddess or a princess or something. It's also the perfect time of year to finally get around to reviewing a few cult classics. Like, say, ParaNorman, which hasn't been out for that long (since 2012) but has already achieved a sort of immortality. Probably because while it's not quite old enough to be a classic, it does reference a lot of the old Roger Corman movies. A fact that makes me pretty happy, not gonna lie.

So ParaNorman is a pretty standard kids' movie in terms of theme and character arc. It's about a little boy, Norman Babcock (Kodi Smit-McPhee) who doesn't fit in and feels like no one ever listens to him, not even his family. To make matters worse, he's sort of the town freak. But when a tragedy/freak event shakes the town, they come to see that Norman and his "freakiness" is the only thing that can save him. And then he saves the day by being kind, and gentle, and a good listener.

In broad strokes this isn't really the kind of story that's remaking the wheel. I mean, it's good, don't get me wrong. I am all for stories about little boys who save the world by being good listeners. But it's not super new and exciting. What sets ParaNorman apart isn't the arc or the theme. It's the details. The details of this plot are pretty freaking great. And very different.

Norman is a little boy who doesn't fit in. That's definitely true. What's cool is why he doesn't fit in: Norman sees ghosts. Lots of ghosts. Ghosts everywhere. From his grandmother's ghost (Elaine Stritch) sitting in the living room to long dead ghosts who yell at him on his walk to school, Norman sees the dead. And he knows that makes him weird, but what's he supposed to do? Not see them? Act like he doesn't see them? That would be rude, and dishonest.

He doesn't really have any friends at school, either. He's constantly picked on by the local bully, Alvin (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), and can't seem to do anything right. But his luck turns when he is befriended by another outcast, the adorably chubby and goodnatured Neil (Tucker Albrizzi). Even at home Norman can't quite fit in. His father (Jeff Garlin) finds his ability to talk to ghosts weird and a cry for help, while his mother (Leslie Mann) is just sort of vaguely not helpful, and his sister Courtney (Anna Kendrick) thinks her little brothers is just the worst.

Into all of this turmoil and prepubescent angst comes, of course, plot. Right before Halloween, which is a big deal in the fictional town of Blithe Hollow*, Norman's uncle, Mr. Prendergast (John Goodman) comes to him with anxious news. It's now been three hundred years since the good people of Blithe Hollow killed the evil witch that was plaguing them, and it's been three hundred years since her curse (that seven townspeople be turned into zombies) was cast. If Norman doesn't manage to stop it, then the witch will rise and the town will fall!

Oh no!

Norman is at first not super believing of his uncle's message, but when said uncle dies of a heart attack right before the witch is supposed to rise, Norman figures he might as well try to stop the apocalypse. But since things are never as easy as they seem in movies, the film has him go on a hilarious and madcap adventure with his new friend Neil, Neil's older brother Mitch (Casey Affleck), Norman's sister Courtney, and the town bully Alvin. Hijinks ensue.

Now I really don't want to spoil the actual plot of the movie (I've really only brought us into the early second act here), but suffice to say that the movie doesn't really do what you're expecting it to. It turns out that the witch's curse really isn't so much a mean thing as it is a bid for understanding. And the original charges against her? Just scared townspeople who thought they were doing the right thing.

In the end, Norman doesn't fight anyone or defeat anyone or even really save the town. Mostly what happens is that Norman teaches the townspeople how to be brave. Because "It's okay to be scared. But you can't let fear change who you are." And there's something so inherently lovable about a movie where the zombies have more to fear from us than we do from them.

The heart of this movie, it's bread and butter, is communication. Specifically, the communication that really needs to happen between family members and friends and loved ones. The movie makes it very clear. We have got to listen to each other if we want to live in a community that doesn't suck. If you want a good relationship, if you want a good life, you have to listen.

It demonstrates this by giving us a series of relationships that are really pretty broken. Norman is ostracized at school, sure, but you get the impression that he could deal with that just fine if he were really emotionally supported at home. He isn't. His father thinks that this whole seeing ghosts thing is a side effect of his grief over his grandmother's death, and believes that all Norman needs to do is man up and get over it. He did, and he's fine.

His mother, meanwhile, is of more or less the same opinion but in a quieter and more emotionally comforting way. She thinks that Norman is a special boy, but not really that he sees ghosts. And while she doesn't insist, as his father does, that he cut this crap out, she does suggest that he try being a little less conspicuous. It'd be easier on him if he didn't stand out so much, after all. She's nice, but she's not the kind of champion that Norman feels like he needs.

And Courtney, well, she mostly doesn't care at all what Norman's going through. She's in high school, she's a cheerleader, and the last thing she needs is some weird little brother bringing her down. Really she doesn't need a weird little brother at all. She's going to rule this town, and she'd just prefer it if people didn't know she and Norman were related.

The only person that Norman can really talk to is his dead grandmother. It's hard on him. And at the beginning of the movie it's very hard to like any of Norman's family at all. But as the film goes on and we see more of them and their motivations, it actually becomes clear that Norman's father isn't great at dealing with emotions, but he does love his son. He's just worried about what other people will do to Norman. His mother is compassionate and kind, but not really sure what advice she should give her son. And Courtney? She's kind of surprised by the awesome kid that Norman turns out to be, and by the end of the movie, she's his staunchest defender.

All that really needed to change was for Norman's family to see the world through his eyes for a day. They needed to see not just that he really is seeing the dead and they should believe him, but also that it's not a bad or scary thing he should stop or try to kill about himself. It's part of who he is, and it's okay. The third act of the movie starts when Norman's parents decide, you know what, they're going to listen to what their son has to say. Even if no one else will.

This isn't really the sort of stuff that feels profound to write about, or that seems earth-shattering in a movie. And to a large extent, it's not. Healthy communication is not the sort of thing that gets sonnets written about it. It's a really easy problem to identify. What makes this movie important, though, is that it actually shows this obvious problem being solved. Not just solved for a day, but solved for good. The movie makes it clear that communication is necessary for any good relationship or community. And when it becomes clear how much fear has clouded communication up to this point, the town makes a concerted effort to be better at it. Norman's family makes a definitive effort to be better.

That's what makes ParaNorman such a good movie. It's not the zombie horror pastiche or the adorable set dressing, or even the really impressive stop motion animation, but it's the fact that this story is about people learning to listen to each other, and how much that can transform a life. No, it's not groundbreaking news. Learning to communicate better is a really obvious step. But it's not easy. It takes effort. And it's really good to see a movie for children acknowledging that.

Plus, it's always valuable to see a children's movie that presents problematic family dynamics, a problematic parental relationship, and then explains how to heal it. The movie never gets all after school special on you, but it does make it clear that sometimes our families aren't the places where we feel safe. And then it shows how to make a safe space for yourself. It means demanding that people hear your voice, and listening to what they have to say too.

It's not rocket science. But that doesn't mean it isn't worth doing.

Horrified zombies are the best zombies.
*For the record, it wasn't hard to figure out what real life town Blithe Hollow is based on. I mention this because there's really only one New England town that's made its fortune by capitalizing on the traumatic witch trials it endured a couple centuries ago. That's right, Salem, Massachusetts. I have such fond memories of visiting the animatronic Salem Witch Trial Museum on field trips. Which is totally a thing that we did. I grew up twenty minutes away. Just saying.

NEWS: Marvel Announces Black Panther and Captain Marvel Movies

$
0
0
Chadwick Boseman announced to play Black Panther.
Man alive has this been a rollercoaster. I posted last week about how Marvel and DC are in some kind of diversity arms race right now, and it feels like they're trying to prove me right. Yesterday it came out that Dr. Stephen Strange would be played by Benedict Cumberbatch (who's a perfectly good actor, but not what we were hoping for), and it seemed like our dreams of a Marvel Cinematic Universe that's not just white guys were dribbling away.

But then! Today we got the announcement that Marvel has fully planned their "Phase 3" film projects, and they include not only Captain America: Civil War and Dr. Strange, but also Black Panther in 2017 and Captain Marvel (the Carol Danvers version) in 2018. Followed by Inhumans and a two part Avengers movie that deals with all of the infinity gems, it looks like.

So I'm having a pretty good day.

Granted, I'm still bummed that we won't get to see Oded Fehr take on Stephen Strange, and I really really desperately want a Black Widow movie to happen someday please. But the announcement of two new movies headlined by a man of color and a woman is a big step in the right direction. 

Also, we have been informed that the Black Panther movie already has its lead, with Chadwick Boseman coming in as African king T'Challa. He'll be appearing in Captain America: Civil War as well, so there's a strong possibility that the story there will actually stay pretty close to the comics. As in, T'Challa will hopefully be the one to fix Steve's broken shield, not Tony. Yay! Because in the comics T'Challa is a verifiable technology genius, and frequently outperforms Tony Stark. It'll be nice to have some great representation like that on the big screen.

This casting and the movie schedule does seem to confirm my suspicion that Chris Evans will be stepping out after Captain America: Civil War, though. I don't blame him - he's been very open about how much stress the Marvel movies cause him and how he really wants to go back to doing more indie work and try his hand at directing. More power to him for choosing where to go in his career. But if Evans is stepping out (and that would be the logical time to do it), then that suggests Steve Rogers will, in fact, be dying in Civil War

So who's going to pick up the shield for Avengers 3? Bucky Barnes or Sam Wilson?

Just generally speaking, all of this is good news. Marvel hasn't announced a writer, director, or actor for Captain Marvel yet, but they did suggest that the news would be forthcoming. Personally I'm holding out for Kathryn Bigelow to direct if they're going to be setting it in Carol Danvers' more military background. If they're going to go with the stories of Carol in space, though, a la her current run and crossover with Guardians of the Galaxy just in time to bring everyone together in Avengers 3, then I have no idea who should direct. I'm just plain excited.

As for the casting, I'm willing to bet that Marvel will be picking a more unknown actor. But then, who knows. Katee Sackhoff is still the fan favorite, but there are other women who would be equally interesting in the role. Anna Torv has been mentioned a few times, and I personally would be really interested to see what Teresa Palmer does with the role. Or someone else. I'm mostly just glad they're doing it.

That's your update for today. The diversity arms race rages on. Stay tuned to see how DC fires back.

If Teresa Palmer plays Carol Danvers, then does that mean we can get her husband, Mark Webber (Scott Pilgrim) to direct?

Pilot Season: Jane the Virgin (Leans Into Telenovela Culture)

$
0
0

Jane the Virgin is probably the weirdest show concept I've seen in recent years, and yes, I am including Sleepy Hollow in that list. It's an hour long drama done in the style of a telenovela parody, featuring a predominantly Hispanic cast, about a young woman who is accidentally inseminated with her boss' sperm and then has to decide what to do about her surprise pregnancy. And that is probably the most plausible thing to happen in the pilot.

What I'm getting at is that this show is a whole big bag of crazy. Not only is the plot, well, telenovela worthy, the show is populated entirely by unknown actors, huge chunks of the dialogue are in Spanish (with subtitles), and there's this all knowing voiceover that likes to make jokes at our heroine's expense. And you know what? It's great. I love it. It's so great.

As with most shows that have a slightly unusual background or premise, Jane the Virgin is all about the execution. If anything about this production were just slightly worse, the whole thing would fall apart. If Gina Rodriquez weren't such a good actress, or if the writing weren't so dang funny and charming, or of the whole show weren't so freaking cute, well, you get the point. It works because all those little pieces have joined together to make a really wonderful piece of television.

Even better? That wonderful piece of television is unabashedly centered around a group of women of color. And not in the "we're adding diversity" way. No, I mean that in the entire show, there are precisely two major characters we meet who aren't identifiably Hispanic. And of those, only one of them is white.* 

There's even a scene where the doctor is trying to take down a (white) patient's information, and keeps asking her to spell her (very white) name again and again. The joke of course being that in this world, white people are the anomaly. And that's great.

The pilot episode races us into the premise of the show without making a lot of pretense about trying to set up a realistic world first, which is frankly helpful. I mean, the premise here is so utterly ridiculous that if it were to be established that this is a realistic, normal world, then it would be hard to believe, frankly. Anyway, the show starts out by establishing a couple of things. First, that Jane Villanueva (Gina Rodriguez) is a virgin. The product of a teen pregnancy, Jane grew up living with her mother and grandmother, and has had it drilled into her head since a young age that her "flower" is very important and should be saved for someone special. So even though she's been dating the same guy, Michael (Brett Dier) for two years, she's still a virgin.

Second, Jane is a very determined, kind, loving person. She's working as a waitress while she puts herself through college to get her teaching degree. She has a plan, and she's going to stick to it, even if her waitressing job at a hotel in South Beach, Miami occasionally forces her to put on a mermaid costume and pour drinks from the pool.

Jane's life takes a rapid turn for the ridiculous when she turns up for her gynecology appointment after a late night at work only to find her regular gynecologist out sick and the replacement, Dr. Luisa Alver (Yara Martinez), a crying wreck. See, Dr. Alver, whose brother, Rafael Solano (Justin Baldoni) owns the hotel where Jane works, found out her wife was cheating on her the night before. And now Dr. Alver has to come to work and cover twice the normal number of patients. So she's not really at her best.

The big mistake is deceptively simple. Dr. Alver has two patients, one in room seven and one in room eight. One of them is Jane, in there for a regular pap smear. And one of them is Petra Solano (Yael Grobglas), in there so that she can be artificially inseminated with a sample of her husband's sperm in order to save her failing marriage. Her marriage to, I hope you're following this, Rafael Solano. Good? Good. Well, Dr. Alver gets the room numbers mixed up, and before Jane is even really aware what's happening, she's been inseminated and sent on her way. Dr. Alver realizes her mistake as soon as she goes into the other room and finds Petra there, but it's too late.

Two weeks later, Petra is definitely not pregnant, and Jane definitely is, much to her own horror and the horror of her super religious grandmother, Alba (Ivonne Coll). Her mother, Xiomara (Andrea Navedo) is more blase about the whole thing, though she does have a moment of panic where she thinks her daughter has immaculately conceived and is some kind of religious messiah. It only takes a few phone calls to find out from Dr. Alver what happened. Jane is pregnant, with her boss' baby, and she has no idea what to do.

The whole plot sort of spins out from there with soap operatic (telenovela) tendencies. Jane really doesn't want kids right now, but she's also very devout and the idea of getting an abortion is uncomfortable to her. She seriously considers it, which is an honest and good moment, but she's not sure she can go through with it. Her boyfriend, Michael, doesn't want her to keep it either, and because this is a ridiculous dramatic show, he proposes to her just as she's telling him about the baby. 

Meanwhile, Petra and Rafael are furious about the mistake, because that was the only sample of Rafael's sperm that exists. Turns out that a few years ago he had cancer, and now he can't have kids. That was their only shot. Also, Petra is cheating on Rafael with his best friend and trying to wait out their pre-nuptial agreement so that she can get ten million dollars in the divorce. And Rafael really wants to divorce her but also wants Jane to give him custody of the child, which she isn't apt to do if he's in a divorce.

Also there's this whole thing where Jane and Rafael kissed five years ago and are so obviously soulmates but they're both in other relationships and also deeply in denial.

And Jane's father starts showing up around this time too. He was her mother's high school boyfriend, and he was a loser back then, but now he's got his act together and he's a telenovela star. Jane knows nothing of this.

So yeah, there's a lot going on in this show. I haven't even managed to get through all of the plotlines introduced in just the first episode alone, and the show will only get bigger from here. But that's not a criticism, it's a compliment. The reason Jane the Virgin works is because they recognized that the basic premise of the show was completely ridiculous. And instead of being ashamed of that ridiculousness or trying to mask it or make it more legitimate, they just leaned into the crazy.  

It's like they looked at the script and figured that they could try to go legit and just make it all serious and angsty and intense, or they could fling their hands in the air and yell, "Hell yes this is a telenovela! Now strap in and shut up!" They did the latter, and I am so glad they did.

I've talked about this a lot, but it bears mentioning again. Asking for diversity in the media is a lot more than just asking that shows or movies or books have a diverse cast. It's about more than just seeing lots of different kinds of people telling the same stories. There's also a level of cultural diversity that's important too. While I'll be the first to admit that I know just about nothing about telenovela culture, I do know that it's very important globally, and that it's a big part of Hispanic culture.

Jane the Virgin is actually based on a telenovela, just like the obvious comparison, Ugly Betty, was. In adapting it for American television, the show obviously had an option to make the show over and Americanize it. What I really respect is that it didn't. It kept very close to its telenovela roots, and in so doing, made a project that's honestly just lovely to watch. It doesn't feel like anything else on network television. It's different. It's new. Don't we want that?

More than that, the show makes no beef about being firmly rooted in Hispanic-American culture. Alba, Jane's grandmother, speaks almost entirely in Spanish. Jane and Alba are both deeply religious, in a way that could easily feel stereotypical, but ends up feeling incredibly real. Xiomara is the stereotype of the oversexed young mom, but she doesn't feel cheap or easy. She's been humanized and contextualized within her culture, and she comes off as one of the most sympathetic characters. She's an aspiring singer and performer, and her bids at stardom don't feel desperate, they feel honest. All of it feels honest.

Basically, I think you should watch Jane the Virgin. It's seriously great. Funny, heartwarming, a little bit cheesy, and really unexpected. Totally worth your time.


*Technically speaking, Yael Grobglas who plays Petra is Israeli, not Hispanic. But I'm reasonably sure that her character is meant to be Hispanic.

RECAP: Outlander 1x08 - So Close, And Yet So Far

$
0
0

Okay. It's going to come as no surprise to you guys that I've been putting off writing this recap ever since the episode aired. Like I've said before, I tend to get a little squirrelly when show's I like end. If I'm not completely caught up, I sometimes (usually) put it off for a while, because the idea of having seen every episode that exists is a little scary. I like the feeling that there's still something left that I could see. That's why I haven't seen the last three episodes of Pushing Daisies, Don't Trust the B*, and Happy Endings, among many others.

In this case, though, my reluctance to catch up fully was partly to do with not wanting the season to be over, and partly because, despite my best efforts and my full on glee at the start of the season, I have to admit that at this point...I'm kind of over it.

Or maybe not. I don't know entirely how I feel. I still appreciate Outlander a lot, and I still really love the way that it reframes a problematic narrative, that of the damsel perpetually in distress, as a strong independent woman constantly proving her worth in a patriarchal society. I like that. So much. What I don't like is how the show seems to perpetually teeter on the brink of full on romance novel melodrama, with Claire poised to become a damsel at any moment. I love Claire for her strength, and to see that chipped away? It makes me very unhappy.

So, without further ado or complaining, here's a recap of the episode that I am not enthused to be watching but know that I have to in order to get the juicy bits airing in April. Enjoy. I know I didn't.

The episode starts with a jolting switch from 1743 and Claire's adventures with the MacKenzie clan to 1945 and Frank's desperate search for his wife. It's now been a few months and the search is getting desperate. Frank wants to believe the best about his wife - he has to. But everyone around him is completely convinced that Claire must have up and left with a lover she met during the war. After all, if she were dead they'd have found a body by now, right?

It's funny, because after seven episodes set two hundred years in the past, the telephone ring that starts the episode sounds jarring and false. Just completely out of place. Hey! Completely out of place like Claire is in 1743 and like Frank is in the police station. Clever how that works.

The phone belongs to a police station in Inverness. It's the day that the detective in charge of Claire's case has decided to finally tell Frank to just give up and leave. Claire must have left of her own free will. There's nothing left that they can do. And Frank? He's really not willing to take this news. He refuses to believe that Claire might have left him. How could he believe that? If he believes that then he has to believe that those last few days with her, the days of their second honeymoon and attempts to reconnect, were a lie.

Back in 1743 Scotland, however, it turns out that Claire really has left Frank for another man. This man being, as I'm sure you recall, Jamie Fraser. After overcoming their shyness and sexual awkwardness last episode with great gusto, this episode finds them sneaking away from the others in their party to act like, well, newlyweds. Picnicking in the scenic Scottish countryside, talking about how their sex life is abnormally amazing and wonderful and special...

A conversation that is abruptly interrupted by reality in the form of Hugh Munroe, an old friend of Jamie's. Munroe comes to say hello to Jamie of course, but also because he's bearing news. Apparently there's a man who saw Jamie's escape from Fort William and knows that he did not kill the man he is accused of killing. 

In other words, there's a man out there who could testify and get the price off Jamie's head. Jamie and Claire could finally go home to Lallybroch, his family land, and he could finally stop hiding who he is.

Also it's an interesting moment because Munroe is a pretty unique character in the story so far. He's functionally mute and communicates mostly with grunts, gestures, and a form of sign language that Jamie speaks fluently. The reason for all of this is that Munroe is another victim of English cruelty. He was captured a while back, and they cut out his tongue, among other tortures. I mention this mostly because this is the first time in a few episodes that we the audience, and Claire the character, have been reminded both of the cruelty of the English occupying Scotland, and of the abysmal state of healthcare in the eighteenth century.

You'd think it would be virtually impossible to forget those two things on a show that's pretty much about them, but characters like Munroe really bring it back to the forefront. After all, Jamie was tortured, but he was tortured by Captain Randall, who we all know is sadistic and insane, and his scars, though horrible, are generally hidden and do not greatly impact his life. Munroe's story, on the other hand, it much more visceral and frightening. 

And, for all that, Munroe himself is a fundamentally happy character. We learn at some point that he actually has a wife and several children, and that he has licenses to beg in over a dozen parishes when he's not hunting or otherwise earning his way. I rather wish we got to see more Munroe's in this story - characters who evidence a world before proper healthcare and a society with desperate conditions, but who refuse to let that get in the way of their being fully actualized human beings. It's something I could do with seeing more of in the media in general, and on this show in particular.

Then we're back in 1943, with Frank and the vicar. Frank is having a moment of crisis as he considers what really might have happened to Claire, while the vicar is still grasping at straws. So much so that even Frank tells him he is, and then storms off for a drink. But while he's out for that drink, something a bit odd happens. A woman sits down next to him, greets him by name, and tells him that she knows something about Claire's disappearance. She won't tell him there, and she wants the reward, but yeah. She knows something.

Obviously it's a trap. She wants to meet Frank at like midnight and show him where the mysterious Scotsman Frank spotted the night before Claire disappeared is? And he has to bring all the reward money? Sure lady. That totally sounds legit.

Cut back to the MacKenzie men sitting around their campfire, telling stories. Tonight it's Rupert's turn, and he tells the story of the waterhorse and his wife (which is a story that I remember hearing as a kid, so it's kind of nice, actually). Claire is off in a corner sort of mulling on how much her life has changed. It's almost Christmas, and she knows it'll be different here. But that's not the main concern right now. The horses are restless and the men all grab for their weapons subtly without stopping the story. They're about to be attacked, and Claire has nothing to do but hide.

They manage to fight off the attackers of course, but afterwards Claire is treated to the uncomfortable feeling of having been completely vulnerable. Even worse, the men just laugh the attack off. You can tell it freaks her out a little.

Frank goes to meet with "Sally" in the absolute pouring rain that you get in Scotland at winter. She leads him into an alley and unshockingly, there are a couple of men there to rough him up and demand the reward. Honestly, I feel a bit like Frank was hoping for this, because he tears into them with the fury and vengeance of a man who needs an outlet rather desperately. Frank leaves them barely alive and we gracefully transition into the vicar talking about good and evil.

Specifically, talking about how easy it is for a good man to become an evil one. The point that he's making is clear, and since he's talking to Frank directly, it's not particularly subtle. Frank stands poised to determine if he will be a good man or not, and it all depends on the choices he makes now. We are intended, I assume, to compare his choices to Captain Randall, his ancestor, and consider how Frank's life stands a solid chance of imitating the nefarious Captain. Stay good, Frank!

By now, even the vicar is convinced that Frank needs to let the hell go. He tells him in no uncertain terms to go back to Oxford and start a new life, like Claire clearly has. The vicar also comes out with that tired Sherlock Holmes quote: "Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, is the truth." Fitting words for this situation.

The MacKenzie men have agreed that after last night's upset, Claire needs to learn how to defend herself with a weapon. And since a dirk is too big for her, she'll have to make do with a little dagger hidden in her skirts. The men all work together to teach her how to stab a man properly. While Claire has a good understanding of anatomy, she's never had to use it to kill a man before, and she's a bit unhappy about the prospect. But then, she's also pretty committed to living.

Which leads us right into a scene of Frank mourning his wife as he gently opens up her suitcase and stares at their wedding photo.

And that, in turn, leads us right into a scene of Claire and Jamie having sex in a field because of course they're having sex in a field. It's like this episode is just trying to hit you over the head with the duality of Claire's life and the fact that at some point she's going to have to make a choice.

But that's not going to happen today. Instead, Claire's about to get some unexpected doses of the reality of being a woman in a patriarchal society. As Claire and Jamie bask in the afterglow (and laugh hysterically at Jamie's propensity for grandiose statements mid-sex), they're interrupted. This time it's not Hugh Munroe, either. It's a pair of redcoat deserters staring them down with weapons. The men drag Jamie away at gunpoint while Claire tries to gather herself, then argue about which one of them gets to rape her first.

It's unclear exactly what happens, as the camera switches to a shaky slow motion video of Claire's face as her rapist tries to, well, rape her. We're completely there with her, feeling her terror and pain and anguish. And then we're with her as she pulls out her dagger and uses her new lessons on murder to stab the man in the kidney, killing him. The dead body flops down on top of Claire and Jamie uses the distraction to fight his way free. The two of them are left, shaking, in the field where they just "made love".

At the vicar's, the vicar and his housekeeper, Mrs. Graham. She would like to tell Frank the truth, or at least the truth as she knows it: Claire fell through the stones into another time. She's a druid or a witch or whatever, and she knows that it's possible. Frank, however, doesn't believe it, and it's almost like hearing the ridiculous theory (that happens to be the truth) makes it easier for him to believe the most obvious explanation: that Claire just ran away with her lover.

Claire is going into shock. She just killed a man. She's never killed a man before. In fact, up until this point, she could take pride in how many men she has kept from being killed. It's rather a lot. But now she has killed one herself, and she is shaking with how much it bothers her. How cold she feels. How much Jamie is freaking out just as much as she is. She was raped, and then she killed a man. She's numb.

As she's pulling herself together and struggling to keep everything inside - she's afraid that if she tells Jamie how she's feeling, a lot of more impossible things will spill out too - the men discuss the situation. Because the redcoat deserters had broken their oath to the English king, no one will be punished very strongly for their deaths. But it raises another problem: the man Jamie is going to meet, who could exonerate him, is also a redcoat deserter. Is he an honorless rogue like these men? If so, how will his testimony help Jamie?

And Claire? She's still in shock, but she's also becoming angry. Fruitlessly, helplessly angry. The real source of her rage is dead, so she finds herself angry with Jamie for no real reason. She can't help it, she's just...mad. And who could blame her? Worse, Jamie's leaving her in the woods with a single guard while he goes to meet this witness. He doesn't want her anywhere near the action, while she refuses to be left behind. Unfortunately, she has no real choice in the matter. As she watches Jamie and the men ride away, Claire realizes why she's so angry. She's mad that she forgot what her real purpose was. She forgot to keep looking for the stones, and to keep trying to find a way home. To Frank.

Frank who is driving away. He's done waiting, he's done looking. He's going back to Oxford. But before he goes, he makes a last stop at the stones. Not sure why, just going to see them. Retrace Claire's steps. See if maybe he can imagine Mrs. Graham is right and something mysterious did happen.

As Claire waits in the clearing, something strange happens. Her guard walks away for a moment. She steps through the woods and all of a sudden she realizes she's there. She's where she wanted to be. She's back at the stones. They're just a short walk away. She can see them. So does she go through?

Hell yes she does! We intrercut with Frank walking up to the stones, and with Claire running madcap up the hill, desperate to make it in time. I can't really describe this scene, but it's really well done. They even scream each others names through the centuries, and they can hear each other. And then - it all goes black.

Claire has been caught. She isn't going to get through. Just as she reaches for the main stone, the one that could take her home, she's grabbed by redcoats. She won't get to go home, she won't get to go back to Frank. She's trapped, more than she ever was. Worse, she's now been captured by people who want her dead.

Frank walks away from the stones, convinced that the voice he just heard, that sounded so much like Claire calling his name, was a hallucination of grief. He walks back to the car. He leaves. Probably for good.

She's being taken to Fort William, of course, and the only defense she has, knowing that Captain Randall is about to torture her, is the knowledge that she has the element of surprise. But it's not apt to do her much good. Randall is bemused by the news of her marriage, the one conducted purely to save her from him, but he really doesn't care much in the end. He has her now, and he will make her pay. For everything, I guess. He's a psychopath, so I'm not sure even he has a clear idea why he hates her so much.

Randall has a lot of questions about Claire. Why was she so important to the MacKenzies that they would rather adopt her as a Scot than let him question her? Which of the MacKenzies are fomenting rebellion against the crown? (All of them, basically.) And what the heckity heck is up with Claire herself? Who is she? Where did she come from? What is she doing there?

Rather than answer any of those questions, though, Claire pulls out the ace she managed to slip up her sleeve during her journey to Fort William, when she was able to plan this conversation. She mentions the Duke of Sandringham. If you don't remember who that is, and who could blame you, he's Captain Randall's wealthy patron, the man that pays him to be brutal to the Scots. Claire knows about him because of Frank's incessant history lessons, and she remembers the name just well enough to cause Randall to spit out his drink. He was not anticipating that. She has the upper hand, for now.

While Randall balks at Claire's knowledge of something that should by all rights be a complete secret, she strikes. She outright states that she is also working for Sandringham, and that the only reason Randall doesn't know that is because he's obtuse. Or, worse, because Sandringham doesn't think he's important enough to tell about it. He's just the guy's attack dog, but not involved in the real decisions. Ouch.

But she's not out of the woods yet. Randall pulls a fast one and asks if Claire really means the Duchess of Sandringham. And she doesn't know what to do. She flails and bluffs and pretends she knows what he's talking about, but it's too late. Randall has smelled the blood in the water. There is no Duchess of Sandringham, the Duke has never been married. Claire is screwed.

Randall steps over and tells the guard by the door to take a walk. She tries to scream for help while he finishes his drink and gets ready for some torture, but no one comes. 

No one is there to save her this time as a rapist with a knife cuts her dress off her, exposes her breasts, slams her into a table, throws her skirt up, and then proceeds to threaten her nipple with her own knife. Claire is left crying on the table with a dagger to her throat as - 

The window shutters swing open to reveal Jamie. Pointing a gun at Randall. Who has a knife to Claire's throat. Who is helpless. End of episode.

So yeah. That second rape scene is most of the reason why I was not eager to recap this episode. While the first rape scene, and let's be perfectly clear that having two rape scenes in a single episode is really testing my endurance here, the first rape scene is told from Claire's perspective. It's shot close on her face. The focus is not on the rape or the rapist, it's on Claire and how she's dealing with the situation. It's not sexy or fun or even thrilling. It's just horrific.

The second rape scene, however, is shot very differently. It's dangerous and meant to be a little exciting. It's not about Claire, it's about Randall. In a lot of ways, Claire is incidental to the scene. In fact, it does everything I hate, by making a scene of rape about the rapist and not the victim. The real point of the scene is just to hammer home how bad of a guy Randall is, not add any illustration to who Claire is. She could be a blowup doll for all the scene does with her.

And, furthermore, taking our fearless heroine, who has been so strong and so amazing and so real so far and reducing her to a woman crying on a desk while her husband whisks in and saves her just feels really insulting. Like all those other episodes were wasted. Like my feelings of joy and pride in Claire and how she deals with the world were wasted. I don't like her in this scene. I don't like the show in this scene.

This article actually sums it up a lot better than I could, but I guess I want to stress, again, the importance of point of view in a story like this. I'm not against the media depicting rape. Rape is a thing that, unfortunately, does happen and has happened throughout human history. So I'm not against it being portrayed in movies and television and other forms of media. I am, however, saying that I very much object to the way it is usually portrayed, and I object to the way it's shown here. 

When Randall assaults Claire, the focus is on him and his power. The focus is not on her. In fact, the episode ends before we ever see the real ramifications of this new trauma in Claire's life. We are given no emotional cues about how she will deal with this. In fact, when Jamie appears to save her, Claire says nothing. It's Randall that responds because, of course, this whole scene is about him.

And that strikes me as not just fundamentally screwed up, but actually morally wrong. This scene should not be about Randall. He is not the main character of this story. More than that, his point of view does not matter. I do not need to see another scene about how a male character is so screwed up he's capable of rape. I don't care. And by showing me this scene from Randall's perspective, the show implicitly states that Claire's perspective, that the victim's place in this, does not matter.

No. Just no, to all of that.

It's a bad note to end on for the next six months. This episode fundamentally disappointed me. There were parts of it I really loved, but I can't love that ending. I have trouble loving the show at all after this. Sure, I'll almost definitely keep watching when it comes back on the spring, but that is one hell of a bad taste to leave in my mouth. Outlander, I expected a hell of a lot more from you.



Think of the Children! Tuesday: The Berenstain Bears Bother Me

$
0
0
I don't really remember ever liking The Berenstain Bears as a kid. In fact, I would go so far as to say that even as a child I found the books sanctimonious, irritating, and frustratingly mired in gender norms. And, for the record, I probably would have used those words too, because I was a super pretentious child.

The point is, I've never understood The Berenstain Bears. I just don't get it. It feels like the stories and situations are taken from an episode of Leave It to Beaver from the twilight zone. Because somehow, somehow, these stories are even more teeth-numbingly wholesome than that show ever managed to be. And while in recent years I've found a couple of exceptions to this rule, like the one book of theirs I like, Mama's New Job, by and large I really don't like The Berenstain Bears. They don't do anything for me.

Which is why I am utterly baffled by a simple fact: kids freaking love them.

How? Why? No, seriously, why? The Berenstain Bears books are so uptight and dull and predictable and annoying that I have to take a deep breath whenever the munchkin asks me to read one, and yet he seems to think they're great. If I let him, he'd have me reading them all in a loop, all day every day. I'm not kidding. What is it about these books?

For those of you who are blessedly unfamiliar with the series, here's the basic premise to pretty much every book: Brother and Sister Bear have some kind of problem. Mama Bear is distracted taking care of the baby, so Papa Bear seeks to help them with their problem, but only makes it worse and teaches them bad habits in the process. Then Mama Bear comes back and teaches everyone a lesson and fixes everything. That's pretty much it. There are slight variations, but that's the general gist of these stories.

So there are a few basic problems with this formula going forward, character ones that generally bother me. Like, Brother and Sister Bear are pretty horrible children to start with. They're whiny, greedy, impatient, and messy. They almost never do something helpful or good without being nagged by their mother first. In fact, the majority of their stories start because the cubs are doing something bad or harmful of their own volition. Basically, if these were my kids? I would feel like a failure as a parent. They're awful.

And Papa Bear really isn't much better. He's usually right behind the kids, doing the bad thing, and relentlessly insisting that he's fine because he's a grownup. No! No that is a terrible example to set for your children! Papa Bear is about as mature as one of the cubs, and that is just plain bad.

Finally, there's Mama Bear, the righteous, schoolmarm, order-giver. She's the responsible parent, sure, and I like that, but I dislike how they always position Mama as being opposed to fun. It's not even that she's the only one who can keep everyone in line, it's that the books present her as inherently good and rule following, and that everything she does is perfect, so no one else should even try to compete.

The worst bit, though, is how the books always end. See, they always have Mama upholding the moral lesson of the story, but they also refrain from giving the cubs sufficient consequences for their actions in the story. Out of everyone, actually, Papa Bear tends to get the most negative consequences, while the cubs often get off free. In Bedtime Battle, the parents spend all evening trying to get their cubs to go to bed, and by the end of it the kids, who have wanted to stay up all night anyway, are all wound up, while the parents are actually asleep. How does this help teach kids anything? What is the point of this?

In case you can't tell, I really dislike these books.

So why does the munchkin like these books so much? Well, if I had to guess, and I do, I'd say it's precisely because the cubs get into lots of trouble and never really face any consequences for it. Even more, I'd guess that he loves the books because Papa Bear is just as bad as the cubs, and that makes him feel good about his actions. These are books that purport to teach a moral lesson, but always do so by undermining adult authority (except Mama's). The lesson one can most easily learn from these books is that the best way to win any argument is to just wait until the other side has exhausted itself.

I have a problem with this. It's not that I think children should automatically bow down to authority. No, I of all people do not think that. But I do think that it's important for children to be able to determine when an authority figure should be listened to, and it's important that children understand that there will be consequences for their actions.

For example, yesterday afternoon, following a pleasant and peaceful day, the munchkin did something bad and got in trouble. The thing he did was actually pretty simple (he climbed onto the rim of the toilet bowl and was trying to smear his hands all over the mirror), and his punishment was by no means draconian. Because he knows that he's not supposed to climb up on things (even if we had never discussed whether the toilet was included in that), and because he knows that my job is to keep him safe and I take it very seriously, he was informed, matter of factly, that he would not be getting any sweets for the rest of the day. So, no cookies or Halloween candy. Not the end of the world, right?

That didn't stop him from, three hours later, proceeding to wail and sob and scream when his mother agreed with me and wouldn't let him have a cookie. As I was leaving yesterday he actually yelled out that he didn't want me to be his nanny anymore and that he hated me. Now, I am a well-adjusted adult, and I am fully aware that what I did in that situation was correct. He did something he knew was wrong, that I know might hurt him, and he had to face the consequences.

Did it suck having a three year old yelling at me? Of course it did! I'm still human, after all. But here's the important thing: this morning when I came to pick him up for preschool, was the munchkin still distressed about yesterday? Nope. Not even a little bit. Because while he was upset in the moment, but he understands well enough to get that I gave him a consequence because I love him and don't want him to get hurt. Is he ever going to stand on the toilet rim again? Probably not.

I have become in this kids life a trusted authority figure. While he might disagree with my actions in the moment, like yesterday, the munchkin gets that I love him and want him to be safe. So when I tell him not to do something, or when I give him a consequence for breaking the rules, he tends to just take it. He knows I'm doing it for his own good, and so he listens. I've proven that I am worth his respect.

Let's compare this with the actions of the parents in the Berenstain Bears books. In those books, I don't feel like the parents, at least definitely not Papa Bear, ever prove that they are worth the cubs' respect. They are inconsistent, unreliable, and let the cubs go way too far before intervening. 

I get that most of this is so that Stan and Jan Berenstain could get a good story out of the situation, but it still bothers me. Because the munchkin loves these books, and he's getting the impression that rather than being a trusted authority who knows what is good for him, I might be a bumbling grownup that he should always be trying to get one over on.

So no, I do not like the Berenstain Bears books. While I can appreciate the idea behind letting children be the wise ones in their stories, in this case I just can't support it. These books set a bad example, and yet somehow still manage to be overly preachy. I'm not sure how they do it, but I don't like it.

Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light (V for Vendetta)

$
0
0

I have never, to my knowledge, been a peaceable girl. I can remember being a small child - very small - and feeling anger as it prickled around my eyes and made my skin hot and tight with rage. I remember holding back tears of impotent fury in high school as my classmates laughed. I remember lashing out with words like knives, the feeling that my insides were too raw to do anything but bite.

I have always been angry.

But I have not always known what to do with my anger. Growing up, I read the New Testament, and I wondered what place and purpose there could possibly be for a girl like me. None of the women I could find were ever angry. And when Jesus was angry, Sunday School teachers liked to point out that it was all right, because Jesus' anger was automatically righteous. He was angry about the right things. I wanted to be angry like that, but I didn't know how. How to use this rage coiling around my heart, the kind of rage that made me choke on screams and made my fists like iron?

As I've gotten older, I haven't gotten any less angry. I have, however, learned how to be angry about the right things. And, thanks in good measure to our topic today, I have discovered the secret to using your anger for good. Simply put, my rage can only be beneficial when it is tempered by sadness. When my anger is purely for myself, it has no good purpose. But when it is for others, when I am filled with fury at the injustices of the world, then it can be used. It's all right to be angry that the world is full of suffering. The key is to know who to be angry with.

Eight years ago, as I was chewing through college, a little movie came out and I fell in love with it. That movie was, obviously, V for Vendetta, a film based on the graphic novel by Alan Moore and David Lloyd - a novel that I have not read and have no intention to.* 

The film, which was written by the Wachowskis and directed by James McTeigue, is about an anarchist freedom fighter who struggled to destroy the government of a dystopian future England, while mentoring a young woman into following in his footsteps and teaching her about the values of freedom.

The movie is by no means perfect, either as an adaptation or as a work in its own right, and a lot of the ways that its philosophy has been applied in recent years are very problematic. It's become a touchstone for a number of internet-based governmental resistance movements, with everyone from Occupy to Anonymous claiming it as their own. And, for all that, it's incredibly hard to say what exactly the film is trying to say about tyranny or democracy or freedom. 

As far as plot, the movie has a labyrinthine story that never becomes less complex and more plausible, but remains very entertaining for all that it makes no sense. Natalie Portman, who is the protagonist though not central character of the film, plays Evey Hammond, a low level employee at a news station just trying to get by in post-apocalyptic London. 

As she makes her way across the city one night, she is stopped by a couple of "Fingermen" - secret police working for the ruling party - and threatened with rape. She is saved by a mysterious vigilante in a Guy Fawkes mask who whisks her away from danger and introduces himself as "V" (Hugo Weaving). No other name. He then proceeds to take Evey up to a rooftop and gives her a front row seat as he blows up the Old Bailey to the music of the 1812 Overture.

It's a dramatic start.

Evey's life, for all that she wishes it weren't, has been irrevocably changed by that night. While V does let her go in the morning, she then runs into him the next morning at work when he comes to take over the station for a special broadcast. Later, she escapes with him, and essentially becomes his prisoner, told that she will be allowed free in precisely one year.

Understandably not thrilled about that, especially when V has her help him murder corrupt officials, Evey tries to escape, only to be captured by the Fingermen, tortured horribly, and then released suddenly, only to find that it was V all along. He gives her the most exaggerated case of Stockholm Syndrome I've ever seen, and she learns that V himself was the result of the government's experimentation on "undesirable" people, an attempt to cleanse the nation that went horribly wrong. He's taking his revenge by trying to bring down the party that destroyed his life and killed millions of others.

It's a good movie. A violent, difficult, frenetic movie, but a good one. Throughout it all, the film seeks to understand what constitutes justice and freedom, and what circumstances make governmental control allowable. These are all important questions to ask.

And, on a personal level, while I can't stand the incredibly skeevy elements of Evey's story, where she's essentially brainwashed into loving V and respecting his cause, I do quite like the arc of a female character who goes from frightened and weak to strong and determined. Natalie Portman really does a great job.

But for me at least, the impact of this movie on my life had a lot less to do with the overarching plot or the implication of violence being necessary for the revolution of the state. My love for it isn't about V, or even Evey, as much as I like her. It's about the idea of this movie.

You see, I believe in trying to change the world. I have always believed in that. I believe that it is necessary and good to try to effect real change and make the world a better place for everyone. To stomp out injustice and prejudice and suffering. I also, however, believe that this is impossible. I believe that in this world, in this life, there will always be suffering and injustice, because there is real evil and it cannot be extinguished with education or understanding. I believe that this world will have to pass away before we can reach a place without pain.

I also believe that those two ideas do not contradict. I believe that we should strive to change the world, and I believe that it is impossible. I believe that the impossibility of this task is no excuse not to try.

I don't condone the violence perpetrated in V for Vendetta. For all that I've been a raging violent thing all my life, I believe strongly in pacifism (probably because I've always been a raging violent thing). I believe that we cannot solve our problems by destroying other humans. This movie, as much as it stirs my heart and makes me want to fight on and on, is about an anarchist terrorist murdering people and remaking the state in his own image. And I'm not really okay with that.

But I also watch this movie and I see so much hope. This movie is about V, sure, but it's also about Evey waking up and deciding to change the world too. It's about the mass of people marching on Parliament on the fifth of November, a mass of people who believe that something is wrong with their country, and that as citizens in it, they have a responsibility to be part of the change. I love this movie because it's about fighting, even if you have no idea you will succeed.

Someone - I wish I knew who - had an explanation of the two types of anger that I have loved. The first is dry anger, where you are offended on your own behalf, where you lash out and feel like you're shooting fire. And then there's wet anger, where you just want to sob tears of frustration because they don't understand how important this is, how wrong they are. 

I get wet anger when I think about all of the suffering in the world. How can it be happening still? How can people still be so blind to the injustice in the world? How can they not care? Worse still, how can they perpetuate it? How can they make it happen? How?

The thing is, V for Vendetta taught me something very important, though I don't think it's what it was trying to teach. Because for all that it's easy to rage against human beings who do terrible things, we also need to remember that they are still human. And that the terrible things they have done do not mean we should not fight to save them. It means we should fight harder. 

I don't think the world can be saved, not in this life, not by people. Because people are inherently wrong. We're petty and cheap and corrupt and selfish and afraid. I am all of those things. I don't think I will succeed in changing the world, not on my own. But that is no excuse no to try. Just because I am horrified by the things that have been done in the world does not mean I should not try to save the people who have done them. Save the victims, yes. But also save the criminals. Save everyone. Love everyone.

I'm not saying this is easy, or that it is something I have mastered. I haven't. At all. I still sometimes wake up feeling so much rage, white and hot and dry, that I want to lash out and bite until I can feel my opponents ripping apart. I feel like I will shake apart with how much evil is in the world, and that the only thing I can do is fight. But I know that there's fighting, and there's fighting. There's rage, and then there's rage. I will choose to fight to save you, not to destroy you. To rage on your behalf, and to never forget who the real enemy is.

Perhaps the most heartbreaking part of V for Vendetta is how plausible it all is. It paints a picture of a world torn apart by suffering and human actions, and it's a world we can all imagine. It's so close, so easy to see. It's even easier to believe that this world is already here. But believing that, believing that we have to destroy something in order to create a new world, will not solve anything. Nor will anger that is aimless and targeted at our fellow man. Be angry, yes. But be angry because of injustice, and be angry on behalf of others.

Keep fighting. Not against people, but against evil and suffering and corruption. Do not forget the humanity of the people around you. Because as cool as the explosions and music and fireworks at the end of the movie are, the real part that moves me is the part where the camera turns and shows a crowd of people coming together to make a world new. Not to destroy the old, but to choose redemption and a new start.

That's what I will be angry for.


*I tried. I got five pages in, realized I didn't care, and then stopped.

Pilot Season: Constantine (Manages to Offend Everyone)

$
0
0

I really want to like Constantine. I do. But I don't. Like it, that is. I want to like it, but I really really can't stand it because somehow this one show has managed in two short episodes to offend pretty much everything I stand for. At least when it comes to the representation of women and people of color in the media.

Granted, I'm not really the best person to ask about adaptations of the Hellblazer comics. I genuinely enjoyed the 2005 movie starring Keanu Reeves and Rachel Weisz, so much so that I still own it on DVD. And while I am pretty generally informed about the original comics, I've never counted myself a fan. They're okay, but not my cup of tea.

All of this is to say that it's not really shocking that I don't particularly care for Constantine the television show. It could easily have gone either way. What is surprising, though, is how the show actually turned out. Or rather, how an obscure comic title about a superpowered, bisexual, libertine exorcist became a racist, insulting parody of itself. Because make no mistake, this show is racist. It's not racist in the usually recognized sense of the word, where you have a character spewing racist venom at black people, but it's still definitely racist. 

The basic premise of the show is as follows: John Constantine (Matt Ryan) is an exorcist, and a good one, but he's quit the work after the tragic death of a girl he was trying to save. That little girl (Bailey Tippen) haunts his waking and sleeping life, keeping him from emotionally moving. He's even shut himself up in an insane asylum to get away from the memories. But he's called out once again when an old (dead) friend asks John for help.

Said dead friend wants John to rescue his daughter, Liv (Lucy Griffiths). Liv is unaware of the fact that her biological father was a powerful exorcist/master of the black arts, but she is aware that something evil is trying to kill her. Cue for John to swoop onto the scene, rock her worldview by telling her all about heaven and hell and the demons that are out there in the world, and save her life. He manages to kill the demon that's after her, and in so doing, exposes a "rising evil" that will probably end the world.

At the end of the episode he decides to scare Liv off and send her back to her old life, so that he can go on, alone, tragically enduring the weight of the world. If by alone we mean actually accompanied by his friend Chas (Charles Halford), a taxi-driving mother hen who apparently is really hard to kill.

Also Harold Perrineau plays an angel who shows up every once in a while to give cryptic messages and creep everyone out. Which means that in terms of racial representation in this pilot episode we have a dead little black girl who is supposed to signify innocence and stuff, a literal magical black man, and that's pretty much it. Well, at the end of the episode there is also a bit where the lead female character runs across a crime scene. At that crime scene? A screaming and wailing middle-aged black woman, standing over the body of her dead son. In other words, the only people of color in the first episode are set pieces meant to illustrate the horror in the world and particularly in the black community, and to develop the character of the white female lead.

Basically, the first episode is not great about representing non-white characters. Nor is it good at representing women. Liv is a spineless, whining, perpetually frustrating cardboard cutout of a character, and her mother is signified only by the fact that she lied about the origin of Liv's father. Astra, the little dead girl, is the only other significant female character in the episode, and she's dead.

The second episode is actually somehow even worse on both fronts. This episode has John traveling to rural Pennsylvania (I think) on a case - something is killing local coal miners. Once in town, he runs into Zed (Angélica Celaya), a psychic artist who's been seeing visions of John. He blows her off for most of the episode before finally admitting he needs help when the vengeful spirits try to kill him. And then he ditches her again when he goes to confront the actual bad guy.

The actual bad guy's identity? It's the wife of one of the men who was killed, a Romani woman who resents the way her (probably abusive) husband treated her and so got revenge. Now, on the surface I might be okay with that, because we see so few representations of the Roma in pop culture and the media that it's always nice to see another, but this was probably the most offensive thing I've seen in years. John confronts her, basically explains how everything she did is wrong and petty, and then says, and I quote, "there's nothing blacker than a gypsy's magic."

Just to explain, the Roma already have to deal with centuries of racism and ill-treatment in the European community. On top of that, they rarely if ever are represented in popular culture. When they are, unfortunately, like this, they are frequently called "gypsies" - a racial slur - and there is an undercurrent of hatred and degradation towards them. 

It's the second episode, and John Constantine just casually does the equivalent of calling a black person a lazy negro, and the narrative shows that said person is in fact the ultimate bad guy and terrible. I hope you see why this is a problem. 

Furthermore, the episode is horrible about women. Zed, while hypothetically interesting, is presented as a lazy and shiftless Latina who can only use her magical powers when the white man helps her do it. She is completely dependent on John, obsessed with him, and stalking him. The only other woman in the episode is the villain, a Romani woman who killed a dozen people or so because she didn't like her husband, and who tried to seduce John the first time she met him and then got him beat up because he said no.

I cannot think of another show this year that has been so casually racist and offensive. Can you?

On the one hand, that is kind of a good thing. Not that this show is so racist and horrible and sexist, but that it's hard to think of another show this bad. Pop culture as a whole is getting better. Constantine is an outlier, not the norm. Yay! But it still bothers me that a show coming out in 2014 manages to be as regressive and insulting as, well, Supernatural. Which I love, but is still my benchmark for shows that deal with race and sex in the most insulting way possible about ninety percent of the time.

The thing is, it would be so easy for this show not to be offensive. Like, it would literally be easier. Zed has all the makings of a truly compelling character, if the writers can manage to stop making her into John's psycho stalker who neeeeeeds him. Liv could have been compelling, but she was written off in the first episode so that we could all understand how hard it is that John has to go through life alone. Heck, the show could have given Harold Perrineau more to do and I would probably be happier. It's like they're actively trying to make this show offensive.

The worst part is, all of this offensive stuff actually makes the show bad. It's not a good show. Because none of the female characters make any sense, their narratives make no sense, and therefore the episodes are dry and flat. Because John Constantine is so wrapped up in his machismo and loner hero thing, he's not very interesting or compelling. The regressive politics of this show are actually killing it.

So unless this show gets gutted and fixed in the next episode or so, I'm going to call for a mercy killing. Most of these actors probably are very good in a different setting, and the property itself has potential. Let's let it go, and see if maybe, in the future, someone can make a show about John Constantine that's actually good.

But it's definitely not this one.

I would love to actually like you as a character.

Returning Shows: Bob's Burgers (All About That Puberty)

$
0
0

Look, we all know by now that Bob's Burgers is pretty much the best animated comedy going. I would argue it's the best comedy full stop. It's charming, sweet, hilarious, and completely insane, somehow managing to make an amazing family sitcom without using tired narrative tropes about fractious marriages, pitiable children, or annoying wacky neighbors. Instead the show has taken a novel route and decided to just tell joke and stories that make people laugh and feel good about themselves. What a concept!

For those of you not in the know, though, the show is super rad. It's about the Belcher family (Bob, Linda, Tina, Gene, and Louise), who run a burger joint in a quiet seaside town. Each of the Belchers is distinct in personality and tone of humor, but they are notable for how well they all get along together. For all that they're super strange people, this is a family that loves each other and supports each other. Bob and Linda are working class parents trying to raise their kids properly while running a restaurant, and the kids are pretty much normal kids with a solid family background. They get into trouble, sure, but it's fun kid trouble, not angsty after school special stuff.

In other words, the comedy on this show comes from the way the characters interact with the world around them. It's the Belchers versus the world, and the Belchers might not usually win, but they never really lose either. They always manage to pull together as a family and at least break even.

Now, I've already talked about what the show has to say about masculinity and femininity, but today I want to talk about how the show deals with adolescence, puberty, and the wacky wild time when we all "come of age".

That's the topic of this post because, really, that's the topic of the first few episodes of this most recent season. This is the fifth season of the show and it shows all the signs of being just as good as the previous ones. Unfortunately, the show's being hampered by a really weird episode release schedule (they're only coming out with one like every three weeks, due to strange programming choices), and I hope very much that's not a sign of the network's lack of confidence in the property. Because make no mistakes, Bob's Burgers is still great.

The first episode features Gene fighting against his nemesis/ex-girlfriend Courtney over the direction of the school musical that year. Since the school has decided to make an original musical, Gene figures it's his moment to shine and fulfill his dream of putting on Die Hard The Musical. Courtney, furious that Gene refuses to cast her in his play, decides to get her father (a composer) to write a different musical, this one based on Working Girl. The two shows manage to divide families and the school because of course they air on the same night in the same building. And, in true Bob's Burgers tradition, the episode resolution comes when Gene and Courtney make peace and decide to mesh their two musicals into one show.

What's really interesting about this plot, though, is less that the musicals themselves are very good or compelling (they're not, and that's most of the joke), but in how each musical typifies a very gendered experience of the world. Die Hard is about one good cop fighting against an office building full of terrorists, and it's paralleled by Gene's struggle to pull of his show by himself, with no one else supporting him. By contrast, Working Girl is about sexism in the workplace, cheating, and how to get ahead without playing by the rules, which is exactly what Courtney did when she had her father write the musical for her.

In other words the whole episode is an insanely clever battle of the sexes, complete with shoulderpads and machismo. The fact that the resolution can only come when the two flawed versions of masculinity and femininity are blended together into one show is just another reminder of why I love this show.

But it's also worth noting that this episode very much highlights the social pressures kids face as they start to enter puberty. Gene's definitely still a kid, but there's an implication here that soon he is going to be expected to be a man and act like one. Yes, he has a good father figure in Bob, but the general cultural expectations for his life are given to him through movies and television. 

Of course Gene wants to make a musical about Die Hard. It's the message of what it means to be a man that he has most been shown. He wants to find a way to reconcile this idea of masculinity with his own personal desires to make music and perform.

It's just all really interesting, and part and parcel of how this show handles puberty really freaking well.

"Tina and the Real Ghost", the second episode of the season, hits very similar points, only this time centered around Tina and her burgeoning sense of who she is going to be as an adolescent. The plot is a little more complex. When the restaurant's exterminator decides there's a ghost in the basement, Louise figures it's a good moment to mess with everyone, and convinces her family (except Bob, who always sees through her) that the ghost is a thirteen year old boy named Jeff. Tina becomes fixated on Jeff and starts to date him, until resident mean girl Tammy steals him away from her.


We expect Tina to be shattered by this betrayal, but that concept, as well as the potential joke that not even a fake ghost will date Tina, proves not to be the point of the episode. Instead, we see Tina take her revenge on Tammy and the other cool kids who were mean to her, eventually revealing that she wasn't crushed when she found out Jeff was fake because she could see how unhealthy it was for her to fixate like that. Tina herself says that if she's so desperate for love that she's willing to invent a romance with a shoebox, she needs to start loving herself.

She then goes further and points out that everyone else was looking to the shoebox and "Jeff" for something they should be getting from themselves. Instead of letting mild-mannered, shy, awkward Tina be the butt of the joke, the writers decided to flip it around and show that Tina is an incredibly self-aware, strong person. More than that, the show emphasizes that Tina's desire to love and be loved is not shameful or a joke. It's perfectly acceptable and healthy, as long as she learns to love herself first.

What other show has messages like that? I mean, we're only two episodes into the season and we've already resolved one boy's crisis about conforming to society's ideals of masculinity and musical theater, and then shown that self-acceptance is the path to healing. And the show did it all without every feeling cheesy or preachy. Just honest.

Of course it remains to be seen if the rest of this season will carry on with these themes. I honestly have no idea. So far, the Belcher parents have been taking kind of a backseat, but I would assume that this will change in future episodes. It does speak to the high caliber of the show overall, though, that this idea doesn't worry me. I've yet to watch an episode of Bob's Burgers that was, well, bad. Or even particularly sub-par. There are episodes I like more than others, but it's very hard for me to think of an episode I don't actually like.

And for me that's quite rare. I really trust this show. I trust their female characters to be compelling and consistent in their characterization. I trust them to humanize everyone on screen, even the people you're not supposed to like. I trust them to tell stories about very human characters doing very human things. I trust them to tell stories that aren't mean-spirited, and are about building-up not tearing-down.

When it comes down to it, I feel like that's why this show works so well as an exploration of adolescence and gender dynamics. Because it's devoted to kind humor, it makes a space in which these kids can explore who they are and who they are going to be when they grow up without us as an audience feeling worried for them. 

I'm never afraid that Tina will discover an amazing talent only for it to be laughed away by her family or for it to be retconned out of the show an episode later. When Gene dresses up as a woman, I never cringe and think that Bob is about to say something degrading toward women or tell Gene to "act like a man."

As an audience member, I feel safe. I feel like it's going to be okay. And that gives the show license to do more interesting things with the development of these characters. Which is surely a good thing. In a world where the typical teenage drama on the CW stars men and women in their mid to late twenties, and the only other well known animated teens are from Family Guy, Tina and Gene are worth their weight in gold. Moreso is the writing team who are able to write them, and write them well.

So yeah. Bob's Burgers is back. You should probably watch it.


Think of the Children! Tuesday: Big Hero 6 and Dealing with Grief

$
0
0

Big Hero 6 is wonderful. It represents the best of what Disney and Marvel can do when they combine their brands and work together on a project. It’s relentlessly colorful, engaging, and fun, while also having an emotional core that never negates the tone, but enhances it. It’s a movie about superheroes and coming of age and dealing with your emotions, and while the story might not be perfect, it’s perfectly suited to this movie.

The animation is gorgeous and stylistically different enough from some of Disney’s recent work that it’s rather refreshing, though not as different as I might have liked. The characters are incredibly compelling and well designed, with unique personalities and roles in the plot, and that adorable, huggable robot on all the movie posters really is adorable and huggable in the movie. He even manages to avoid being cloying, a rare talent.

This is not to say that there are no problems with Big Hero 6, but rather that the problems that manage to sneak through into the film are the sort of systemic, frustrating, intractable ones that we might not have even noticed if the rest of it weren’t so good. 

For example, while the film displays admirable levels of diversity (the majority of the cast is non-white, and voiced by non-white actors), the female characters are still uniformly thin and conventionally attractive. They might differ slightly in body type and build, with one character being tall and thin, the other short and wiry, and another average height, but they are all thin, and they are all designed with the same basic facial features and tiny up-turned nose.

This grates, of course, because the male character designs are actually a big relief in their diversity. Their body-types, builds, and facial features are radically different even within families. It’s frustrating to know that such body diversity was possible in the female cast, but that the animators for whatever reason decided not to pursue it. That’s always annoying.

But, like I said above, this is the sort of complaint that really only comes when the majority of the rest of the film is above reproach. And here it is.


The story, which I will endeavor not to spoil much, starts with the introduction of two brothers: Hiro (voiced by Ryan Potter) and Tadashi (Daniel Henney). Both of them are geniuses, with a specialty in robotics. They live with their Aunt Cass (Maya Rudolph), a lovable nut who does her best to care for the boys, but openly admits that she's got no real business being a parent. The two boys, much as they adore each other, are very different in temperament. Hiro, the younger, is brash and full of himself, preferring to enter his robots in illegal street bot fights to earn a quick buck rather than actually use his skills for something worthwhile.

Tadashi, on the other hand, is full of responsibility and the belief that he should help people. He goes to a local college that specializes in science and technology, and there he's amassed a number of quirky, lovable, brilliant friends. 

There's GoGo Tamago (Jamie Chung) who works with electromagnets to make a frictionless bike wheel, because nothing could possibly be fast enough for her. There's Wasabi (Damon Wayans Jr.) who's using a laser grid to cut things into impossibly thin slices just to see if he can. 

Honey Lemon (Genesis Rodriguez) is a mad scientist with chemistry, who loves turning things pink and then disintegrating them, mostly for the hell of it, but also because she can see some useful applications. And then there's Fred (TJ Miller), the school mascot and resident "science enthusiast". He's the token white guy, and he's lovable and sweet, ridiculously pumped about all the awesome science everyone else can come up with.

Finally, though, we get to see Tadashi's project, and it's a doozy: He's programmed a functioning robot with AI to serve as a healthcare provider. Baymax (Scott Adsit) activates when he hears a "call of distress" - someone saying "Ow!" - and will treat any and all medical and psychological problems to the best of his ability. His design is "huggable and nonthreatening", and he's created to be useful, portable, and easy to manufacture. In other words, Tadashi's trying to solve the healthcare crisis, one patient at a time.

But then tragedy strikes. Inspired by his brother and all of the awesome inventions his friends are working on at the lab, Hiro creates his own robotic wonder: Microbots. Microbots are little functional pieces that can be controlled with a neural network, and can be used to build skyscrapers or tear down buildings. He uses the Microbots as his entrance application to the university, but something terrible happens at the science showcase. Hiro's Microbots are thought destroyed, and the whole group reels from the deaths of some people they love.

Without giving too much away, eventually we discover that Hiro's Microbots were not destroyed, but stolen, and are now being used for nefarious purposes by some evil supervillain-type guy whose plans are unclear but probably really really bad. The only solution? Suit Baymax up into a set of robotic armor, make everyone else a superhero costume too, and fight crime!

If this sounds a little silly, that's okay, because it is. It is a little silly, and the movie never tries to distance itself from the inherent ridiculousness of its premise. But it also doesn't let the silliness of a group of science nerds putting on special suits and fighting supervillains overwhelm the real emotions at the core of the plot. The story here is really about grief and pain, and how we have to deal with these emotions, as painful as they are.

The film even goes so far as to show what happens when you let yourself be consumed by anger and don't give yourself time to heal. Anger can make you seek revenge, step over other people, even hurt the people you love most. It's not pretty. Instead, the movie makes it clear that real emotional healing is slow and hard and worth it. You can't shut people out. You can't try to fight the pain. You just have to keep going, while remembering what you've lost.

Big Hero 6 gets away with such a sad and emotionally draining story precisely because it's so fun and happy. It balances. We get that this world is heightened and candy-colored and full of impossible things. That's what makes it easier for us to process Hiro's pain. The setting and tone don't detract from the message of the movie, but they do make the message easier to handle. It will get better. It will take time. 

Part of what makes me like this movie so much, actually, is that it decided to go there. This movie does not step away from hard things, and it does not pull punches with your emotions. You are placed very fully into Hiro's world, and shown his choices, and shown that he does not always choose the most healthy option. He does bad things. He says mean things. It's hard to watch, but oh so good.

And to have the voice of reason in the film turn out to be a healthcare robot is really compelling. Baymax, for all that he's a brilliantly designed AI, is not human. All he knows about people is what was programmed into him or what he learned off the internet. 

Baymax isn't human, nor does he have any desire to be human, and that endows him with the ability to describe and treat grief without feeling it himself. It's very effective, and makes him one of the most sympathetic characters, as everything he does is inherently selfless.

Also, as a side point, but worth noting, the actual robot design in this movie is brilliant. Those Microbots really are brilliant in how they work, and Baymax is very cleverly designed. We actually ended up at dinner after the movie discussing how clever all of those design details were, and whether or not we could bribe someone to build us a Baymax. (The answer? None of us have enough money. But it's probably totally possible.)

But the real point of the movie is, like I said, about grief, and how we can't just shut ourselves away or lash out in anger when something bad happens. We really do need to rely on each other. Because community, family, and friendship are some of the most important parts of our lives. Without those relationships, without love, all of our smarts aren't worth a whole lot.

You know what? I can get behind a movie with that at its center. It's message that we seem to be squeamish telling to children sometimes, because in order to talk about grief we have to address the unpleasant fact that bad things happen sometimes. To address grief we have to address the things that cause grief, and admit to children that sometimes we can't do anything to stop bad things from happening. It's hard to admit that, especially to a child who thinks you can do anything.

It's hard to talk to kids about stuff like this, but it is so important. If children don't learn how to deal with grief, that bad things happen, and how to lean on the people around them when these things do, then they will grow up stunted and afraid. That's a bad thing.

Instead, let's use movies like Big Hero 6 to help kids learn how to process their feelings. Let's admit that sometimes bad stuff happens and we don't know why, but also teach them how to lean on each other to make it through. Let's teach them that they can always be a hero, and that heroes are the ones to sacrifice to help others. These are good messages, even if they are hard conversations.

One last thing before I let you go. I mentioned up top but this bears repeating, it is so nice to watch a movie where all the main characters, all the heroes, are science nerds. They're absolute geniuses who love and adore science. The only two characters who aren't science wizards, Aunt Cass and Fred, are science groupies and have endless enthusiasm for learning and education. 

Heck, the message of the first part of the movie very clearly shows that education is a good thing. Hiro is wasting his life and his gift, but if he got an education he might be able to actually harness his intelligence and use it to help people. The fact that helping people and using your education for good is seen as the ultimate end goal of a purposeful life is just so refreshing. Yay for education and helping people!

Overall, I loved this movie, I really did. It was emotionally honest and moving without ever losing its sense of joy, and it was different from anything else I've seen recently. It's both fully a Marvel movie (complete with Stan Lee cameo) and fully a Disney movie, and it seems that this one property has brought out the best in both companies. Can't really find fault with that.


Viewing all 513 articles
Browse latest View live


<script src="https://jsc.adskeeper.com/r/s/rssing.com.1596347.js" async> </script>