With 2018 ending, I figured I’d look at my personal life and acknowledge the pitfalls and successes. On one hand, I got a draft for a graphic novel finished, secured a decent-paying job, acquired a potential writing contact, got my finances under control for the first time and had an intake at a renowned mental health clinic. On the other hand, I was diagnosed with a mental health disorder, experienced my 13th romantic rejection, said goodbye to my psychiatrist of 17 years, found out that my job was closing in January 2019, learned that my writing style was “unprofessional” and had to be reminded, again, that I’m of a vulnerable minority group. Yet it was acknowledging Doug Walker, an internet figure I’d admired since high school, as an awful human being that really got to me. I say that sounding like a shallow buffoon, but alas!
I probably should’ve seen this coming; after all, not only were there hints of his behaviour early as a few years back, many of which I overlooked, but Doug Walker wasn’t someone I knew personally. He was an internet personality, and he was putting on a face for his viewers. Doug could’ve been a predator and have still been a marketable brand. It sucked to, therefore, have the rug swept from under my feet via former Channel Awesome employees, the site Doug helped co-found, writing an in-depth ledger detailing years of abuse and neglect they’d experienced while working for him. All those years of supporting a monster had finally come to a head, essentially.
The history surrounding #ChangetheChannel was messy and upsetting in several ways. For one, it didn’t come out of nowhere. There’d been months of speculation, and even more years of rumours. So when “The Channel Awesome Ledger” was released this past year, it wasn’t really a surprise. The shock was in the detailed mistreatment, and how incriminating it really was. It leading to a mass-exodus of followers didn’t help.
Two, this controversy was compounded by the realization that one of the site’s late and beloved creators, a man who went by JewWario, was a serial molester. In light of Me Too, that was like adding kerosene to a dumpster fire. JewWario had gained sympathy in light of his suicide a few years prior, so this information only made matters worse.
And three, Channel Awesome’s response was a mess in of itself. Ignoring all of the allegations that were lobbed, site administrator Mike Michaud, who was also one of its founders, gaslighted those complaints by openly attacking the accusers. Initially it was an unapologetic apology, but it quickly turned into a document “debunking” claims in an unprofessional manner. That alone was enough to make me feel ill, and I wasn’t alone, as evidenced by the eventual mass-exodus.
It hurts me now to even write this, even though I’ve tried before. I used to anticipate Doug Walker’s content, anxiously-awaiting his Nostalgia Critic videos when they arrived on Tuesdays. I loved listening to his thoughts on new films through Sibling Rivalry, a feature he shared with his brother Rob. I even, more-recently, looked forward to his Disneycember videos, being casual reviews of Disney classics that re-examined how I thought about them. That last one hurt giving up most, as it made my Decembers more bearable.
So now what? How do I fill my time once occupied by Doug’s content? Better yet, how do I do penance for ignoring the complaints of former Channel Awesome employees? The answer’s difficult, and it’s not like I haven’t caved three times since #ChangetheChannel started. The intense willpower it took to close that door was exhausting, especially with YouTube routinely recommending his videos to me.
A solution I’ve found helpful is to follow and support the creators who were slighted by Channel Awesome. Not all of them, but enough that I can appreciate how they were unfairly-treated. Because they, really and truly, deserved better. That alone alleviates much of the guilt, but I doubt it’ll fully go away.
Ultimately, saying goodbye was the healthiest decision I made. The few times I caved have shown that Doug Walker feels no remorse, instead pretending like nothing happened, so why cling to that? Why embrace that toxicity, especially when it makes me miserable? What could I get out of this situation? Nothing about Channel Awesome makes me feel joy anymore, so why bother?
On a final note, I’d like to apologize to those who were slighted by Channel Awesome, yet I ignored their pain until recently: I’m sorry. I’m sorry I took advantage of your suffering, and I’m sorry that I turned a blind eye to your warnings. It was wrong, and I should’ve known better. I only hope I can repair that bridge in the future, however hard it may be.
Happy New Year, and may 2019 be better than 2018.
Monday, December 31, 2018
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Baby It's Old Outside?
The holiday season is frequently dominated by Christmas and Christmas-themed memorabilia. Sure, there are other holidays in December, like Chanukkah and Kwanza, but Christmas is so infused with the spirit of the month that you can’t escape it. And nowhere is this more-apparent than in its music, particularly the controversial song “Baby It’s Cold Outside”. It’s a song so contested that it’s even been recently pulled from many radio stations in-light of the Me Too movement gaining momentum.
The discourse surrounding “Baby It’s Cold Outside” isn’t new. I’ve heard debates over whether or not it’s creepy for a decade, and I’m sure it was going on before then too. For some, the song is a lighthearted duet between a man and woman, no harm intended. For others, however, it reeks of date-rape and non-consensual behaviour. It doesn’t help that the lyrics are especially uncomfortable with this stanza:
That said, while Loesser was no prophet, and, therefore, couldn’t have predicted the long-term implications of his work, I understand why it’s aged poorly in the 21st Century. Standards for dating, especially within the past year, have changed drastically since the song’s inception, and what might’ve sounded “cute” or “funny” in 1944 is creepy in 2018. Art doesn’t change, but our perceptions of it can over time.
It, therefore, doesn’t surprise me that “Baby It’s Cold Outside” would be deemed inappropriate, especially given what we now know about date rape and sexual assault. It also doesn’t surprise me that people have protested over the song’s existence, to the point of boycotting it or refusing to air it on the radio. But while the intentions might be noble, I’m not a big fan of the song myself, I don’t think pretending it doesn’t exist is helpful either. Like it or not, it’s a part of our historical zeitgeist, and pretending bad behaviour never occurred in the past, intentional or not, is equally as bad as continuing to propagate it.
So, what to do with “Baby It’s Cold Outside”? Honestly, I’m unsure. One suggestion would be to go the Warner Bros. route and include some sort of disclaimer, much like they did with their Merrie Melodies/Silly Symphonies collections. You could have someone famous, like Tom Hanks or Meryl Streep, warn people of the historical context so as to brace them. It’d be expensive, and not completely foolproof, but it’s not entirely out of the question either.
Another suggestion could be to update it, which is what happened a few years ago on YouTube. Making the song consensual would definitely be a step in the right direction, not unlike how parodies or updates transform original works. Besides, speaking personally, while the song itself might be a little creepy, by changing the wording to be more tolerant and accepting, you might actually “fix” what was wrong with it. Even still, going by that train of thought, you can gender-flip the song. It’s been done before to illustrate a point about its questionable content, and having the woman’s position be reversed with the man’s could actually serve as a teaching tool for why the song was objectionable in the first place.
Or you could toss it away, which is what many people are doing now. But I think this is the stickiest response, as, like I said earlier, it pretends that the song and its context never happened, hence revisionist history. It’s not even my least-favourite Christmas tune, that honour belongs to “Grandma Got Run-Over by a Reindeer”, but acting like it never happened won’t only insult the “something-something SJW, something-something PC-culture gone too far” crowd who likes to pretend that there’s a war on Christmas, but also music historians who might find value in it. This isn’t mentioning the aforementioned issues, either.
I don’t think that, at the end of the day, there’s an answer that’ll satisfy everyone. We can have a disclaimer, though that’s easily ignorable. We can update or gender-flip the song to teach a lesson about consent, though that’s only a band-aid solution. We can even toss it out the window and pretend it never happened, though that ignores history altogether. But, like it or not, we live in a world where “Baby It’s Cold Outside” does, in fact, exist. It’s up to us, as a collective, to decide how to handle that.
The discourse surrounding “Baby It’s Cold Outside” isn’t new. I’ve heard debates over whether or not it’s creepy for a decade, and I’m sure it was going on before then too. For some, the song is a lighthearted duet between a man and woman, no harm intended. For others, however, it reeks of date-rape and non-consensual behaviour. It doesn’t help that the lyrics are especially uncomfortable with this stanza:
“…The neighbors might think (baby, it's bad out there)/Say, what's in this drink? (no cabs to be had out there)…”
To be fair to Frank Loesser, the lyricist, I don’t think he meant anything insensitive with this line. Keep in mind that societal attitudes about flirting and romance were different in the 1940’s, and this might’ve been considered charming. The line “what’s in this drink?” could’ve even been a joke about how the martini/cocktail/insert drink here was non-alcoholic. And given that alcohol’s the drink of choice for guys shamelessly picking up women at bars, being non-alcoholic could suggest that the man has nothing to hide and wants the woman to be warm.That said, while Loesser was no prophet, and, therefore, couldn’t have predicted the long-term implications of his work, I understand why it’s aged poorly in the 21st Century. Standards for dating, especially within the past year, have changed drastically since the song’s inception, and what might’ve sounded “cute” or “funny” in 1944 is creepy in 2018. Art doesn’t change, but our perceptions of it can over time.
It, therefore, doesn’t surprise me that “Baby It’s Cold Outside” would be deemed inappropriate, especially given what we now know about date rape and sexual assault. It also doesn’t surprise me that people have protested over the song’s existence, to the point of boycotting it or refusing to air it on the radio. But while the intentions might be noble, I’m not a big fan of the song myself, I don’t think pretending it doesn’t exist is helpful either. Like it or not, it’s a part of our historical zeitgeist, and pretending bad behaviour never occurred in the past, intentional or not, is equally as bad as continuing to propagate it.
So, what to do with “Baby It’s Cold Outside”? Honestly, I’m unsure. One suggestion would be to go the Warner Bros. route and include some sort of disclaimer, much like they did with their Merrie Melodies/Silly Symphonies collections. You could have someone famous, like Tom Hanks or Meryl Streep, warn people of the historical context so as to brace them. It’d be expensive, and not completely foolproof, but it’s not entirely out of the question either.
Another suggestion could be to update it, which is what happened a few years ago on YouTube. Making the song consensual would definitely be a step in the right direction, not unlike how parodies or updates transform original works. Besides, speaking personally, while the song itself might be a little creepy, by changing the wording to be more tolerant and accepting, you might actually “fix” what was wrong with it. Even still, going by that train of thought, you can gender-flip the song. It’s been done before to illustrate a point about its questionable content, and having the woman’s position be reversed with the man’s could actually serve as a teaching tool for why the song was objectionable in the first place.
Or you could toss it away, which is what many people are doing now. But I think this is the stickiest response, as, like I said earlier, it pretends that the song and its context never happened, hence revisionist history. It’s not even my least-favourite Christmas tune, that honour belongs to “Grandma Got Run-Over by a Reindeer”, but acting like it never happened won’t only insult the “something-something SJW, something-something PC-culture gone too far” crowd who likes to pretend that there’s a war on Christmas, but also music historians who might find value in it. This isn’t mentioning the aforementioned issues, either.
I don’t think that, at the end of the day, there’s an answer that’ll satisfy everyone. We can have a disclaimer, though that’s easily ignorable. We can update or gender-flip the song to teach a lesson about consent, though that’s only a band-aid solution. We can even toss it out the window and pretend it never happened, though that ignores history altogether. But, like it or not, we live in a world where “Baby It’s Cold Outside” does, in fact, exist. It’s up to us, as a collective, to decide how to handle that.
Sunday, December 9, 2018
Netflix Genesis Evangelion
Netflix has been on a hot streak lately. Whether it’s their library getting better, or their decision to break into ambitious, original content, the streaming service has increasingly been one to compete with TV and the theatre-going experience. And now they’re trying to tap into the anime market, with their Netflix-originals and rescuing of classics like Cowboy Bebop and Neon Genesis Evangelion.
Before I delve further, two disclaimers: first and foremost, I don’t mean any of this as a direct attack on the aforementioned people. I don’t know Spike Spencer, Allison Keith, Amanda Winn Lee and the likes, but I’m sure they’re chill individuals and fun to be around. I’ve heard many of their voices in other anime, and I can say for certain that they’re incredibly talented. They also seem to have put hours of work into dubbing shows in the 90’s/early-2000’s, hours they’re never getting back. So if I come across as a little harsh, know that it’s nothing personal.
And secondly, I know nothing about the new dub. I don’t know who’s directing it, or when it’s coming out officially. I don’t even know who’ll be in it. It could end up being amazing, and it could end up being awful. We won’t end up knowing until its release. So please don’t take what I’m about to say as objective truth, as my thoughts could change in a year’s time.
Now then, time to address the elephant in the room:
So Neon Genesis Evangelion is getting re-dubbed for Netflix’s re-release. On one hand, this makes perfect sense: the original dub is pretty old, hailing from pre-Cowboy Bebop days. As such, it feels, especially in early episodes, crusty and hammy, as if the VAs and ADR director weren’t sure how the characters were supposed to sound. Considering it’s now 2018, and dubbing knowledge is more refined, it makes sense to try again. Especially when a fresher dub would help to reach Netflix’s targeted audience.
Unfortunately, not everyone feels this way. Many of the original dub’s VAs, particularly Spike Spencer, have petitioned to be recast for the new dub, even venting on Twitter about it. And many long-time fans have rallied to their cause, stating that “the show wouldn’t be the same without them”. I’m not one to call these fans out in their entirety, since I have my own dub biases too, but I do feel like the backlash is unfounded and unfair.
Let me explain.
Anime, like any collaborative medium, isn’t the voice of a singular individual, but a collective. You have writers, storyboard artists, animators, directors, head directors, voice talents and composers, to name a few. This isn’t counting translating duties overseas, in which you have to localize the original script while translating it, send it to an ADR director and find a new pool of actors, sound mixers and script doctors to make sure flexibility is present while still maintaining intent. This doesn’t account for on-the-spot ad-libbing and script changes, none of which are planned. At the end of the day, a finished anime has gone through hundreds of eyes.
I say this because it’s important to understand that Neon Genesis Evangelion, while culturally-significant, isn’t the property of one person. Even ignoring the aforementioned, the show means something different to each and every fan: for some people, it might’ve helped them cope during a rough spot in their lives, while others like the way that it’s written. That one show can mean so much to so many on different levels speaks volumes about its impact, reemphasizing that it’s not about one particular group of people at one particular point in time. Neon Genesis Evangelion’s success might’ve been helped by its English dub, but it’s not solely because of it.
And this is where I think the original cast got it wrong: yes, Spike Spencer might’ve been a good Shinji Ikari. He might’ve, as evidenced by the Rebuild movies, been a great Shinji Ikari. But he isn’t the only Shinji Ikari, as that’d directly insult Megumi Ogata, the dozens of VAs who took on the role in other languages, and the future VA who’ll do his voice in the Netflix rescue. Besides, Shinji’s a fictional character, he doesn’t belong to one person. Assuming so is a form of gatekeeping.
We don’t need that right now. Anime’s a growing and evolving market, and markets adapt all the time. It’s why capitalism has existed for so long, flaws and all, and why it’ll continue to exist for a while longer. That Neon Genesis Evangelion’s being rescued and revisited for a newer audience is smart, no doubt, but with that comes the need to adapt. And if that means re-dubbing it for a newer, younger audience, then is that so bad?
It’s not like dubs don’t get recommissioned all the time anyway. When Disney had the Studio Ghibli license in North America, they routinely re-dubbed the movies’ older dubs, even the ones that were “decent”. The Dragon Ball franchise has had plenty of re-dubs over the years, including a more-recent remastering by FUNimation to match the show’s repackaging in Japan. Sailor Moon has also been undergoing an extensive re-dub from VIZ Media, this time uncensored and uncut. If those re-dubs can be praised, then why can’t Neon Genesis Evangelion be the same?
I wouldn’t even be surprised if Cowboy Bebop received a re-dub. Would it be heresy? Possibly, since that’s largely considered one of the best dubs ever recorded. But would it be unfathomable? No. The dub’s not exactly flawless, it even has a single bad performance in “Boogie Woogie Feng Shui”, so it’s not like re-dubbing it would be out of the question.
Additionally, the original dub cast needs to realize they don’t own the show. They might’ve cared and improved over time, but they’re not exclusively Shinji Ikari, Asuka Langley, Misato Katsuragi and the likes. They’ve had varied careers over the years, and they need to understand/appreciate that their takes on these beloved characters are exactly that: takes. If someone else wants to step up to bat and try their hand, assuming they do care, they should be allowed. It might suck that the original cast will fade into the annals of history, but that’s what archives are for.
So yeah, Spike Spencer and co. need to let go of Neon Genesis Evangelion, as do their fans. They’ve had a good run, it’s time to give someone else a chance in the spotlight.
Before I delve further, two disclaimers: first and foremost, I don’t mean any of this as a direct attack on the aforementioned people. I don’t know Spike Spencer, Allison Keith, Amanda Winn Lee and the likes, but I’m sure they’re chill individuals and fun to be around. I’ve heard many of their voices in other anime, and I can say for certain that they’re incredibly talented. They also seem to have put hours of work into dubbing shows in the 90’s/early-2000’s, hours they’re never getting back. So if I come across as a little harsh, know that it’s nothing personal.
And secondly, I know nothing about the new dub. I don’t know who’s directing it, or when it’s coming out officially. I don’t even know who’ll be in it. It could end up being amazing, and it could end up being awful. We won’t end up knowing until its release. So please don’t take what I’m about to say as objective truth, as my thoughts could change in a year’s time.
Now then, time to address the elephant in the room:
So Neon Genesis Evangelion is getting re-dubbed for Netflix’s re-release. On one hand, this makes perfect sense: the original dub is pretty old, hailing from pre-Cowboy Bebop days. As such, it feels, especially in early episodes, crusty and hammy, as if the VAs and ADR director weren’t sure how the characters were supposed to sound. Considering it’s now 2018, and dubbing knowledge is more refined, it makes sense to try again. Especially when a fresher dub would help to reach Netflix’s targeted audience.
Unfortunately, not everyone feels this way. Many of the original dub’s VAs, particularly Spike Spencer, have petitioned to be recast for the new dub, even venting on Twitter about it. And many long-time fans have rallied to their cause, stating that “the show wouldn’t be the same without them”. I’m not one to call these fans out in their entirety, since I have my own dub biases too, but I do feel like the backlash is unfounded and unfair.
Let me explain.
Anime, like any collaborative medium, isn’t the voice of a singular individual, but a collective. You have writers, storyboard artists, animators, directors, head directors, voice talents and composers, to name a few. This isn’t counting translating duties overseas, in which you have to localize the original script while translating it, send it to an ADR director and find a new pool of actors, sound mixers and script doctors to make sure flexibility is present while still maintaining intent. This doesn’t account for on-the-spot ad-libbing and script changes, none of which are planned. At the end of the day, a finished anime has gone through hundreds of eyes.
I say this because it’s important to understand that Neon Genesis Evangelion, while culturally-significant, isn’t the property of one person. Even ignoring the aforementioned, the show means something different to each and every fan: for some people, it might’ve helped them cope during a rough spot in their lives, while others like the way that it’s written. That one show can mean so much to so many on different levels speaks volumes about its impact, reemphasizing that it’s not about one particular group of people at one particular point in time. Neon Genesis Evangelion’s success might’ve been helped by its English dub, but it’s not solely because of it.
And this is where I think the original cast got it wrong: yes, Spike Spencer might’ve been a good Shinji Ikari. He might’ve, as evidenced by the Rebuild movies, been a great Shinji Ikari. But he isn’t the only Shinji Ikari, as that’d directly insult Megumi Ogata, the dozens of VAs who took on the role in other languages, and the future VA who’ll do his voice in the Netflix rescue. Besides, Shinji’s a fictional character, he doesn’t belong to one person. Assuming so is a form of gatekeeping.
We don’t need that right now. Anime’s a growing and evolving market, and markets adapt all the time. It’s why capitalism has existed for so long, flaws and all, and why it’ll continue to exist for a while longer. That Neon Genesis Evangelion’s being rescued and revisited for a newer audience is smart, no doubt, but with that comes the need to adapt. And if that means re-dubbing it for a newer, younger audience, then is that so bad?
It’s not like dubs don’t get recommissioned all the time anyway. When Disney had the Studio Ghibli license in North America, they routinely re-dubbed the movies’ older dubs, even the ones that were “decent”. The Dragon Ball franchise has had plenty of re-dubs over the years, including a more-recent remastering by FUNimation to match the show’s repackaging in Japan. Sailor Moon has also been undergoing an extensive re-dub from VIZ Media, this time uncensored and uncut. If those re-dubs can be praised, then why can’t Neon Genesis Evangelion be the same?
I wouldn’t even be surprised if Cowboy Bebop received a re-dub. Would it be heresy? Possibly, since that’s largely considered one of the best dubs ever recorded. But would it be unfathomable? No. The dub’s not exactly flawless, it even has a single bad performance in “Boogie Woogie Feng Shui”, so it’s not like re-dubbing it would be out of the question.
Additionally, the original dub cast needs to realize they don’t own the show. They might’ve cared and improved over time, but they’re not exclusively Shinji Ikari, Asuka Langley, Misato Katsuragi and the likes. They’ve had varied careers over the years, and they need to understand/appreciate that their takes on these beloved characters are exactly that: takes. If someone else wants to step up to bat and try their hand, assuming they do care, they should be allowed. It might suck that the original cast will fade into the annals of history, but that’s what archives are for.
So yeah, Spike Spencer and co. need to let go of Neon Genesis Evangelion, as do their fans. They’ve had a good run, it’s time to give someone else a chance in the spotlight.
Monday, December 3, 2018
Of Disney and Sound Mind...
(Warning: The following entry contains spoilers for Ralph Breaks the Internet. I strongly urge everyone to see the film first.)
Growing up, I assumed that Disney was of two minds. The first mind gave us classics like Fantasia, The Jungle Book, The Disney Renaissance films and, later, Pixar’s line-up. The second mind routinely made bad, corporate decisions and shovelled out garbage in an attempt to shamelessly pander to children. These two minds, at least on the outset, appeared to clash, such that I never could peg the company: were they responsible for some of the best movies ever, or were they responsible for some of the worst movies ever? Did they cater to families, or openly insult them?
I know I’m not alone on my feelings. Many people, myself included, have expressed thoughts about Disney’s recent business practices-from acquiring 20th Century Fox, to unjustly firing James Gunn over old Tweets he’s apologized for-yet have still ended up watching their films anyway. They’ve openly derided Disney’s corporate self-awareness in their recent work, all-the-while enjoying this self-deprecation. They’ve even mocked their shameless live-action remakes of classic movies, despite still seeing them. For every complaint you can lob at Disney’s corporate side, you can as easily give a compliment to their creative side.
Perhaps this is most-apparent in Ralph Breaks the Internet. The film is their fourth canonical sequel, right after The Rescuers Down Under, Fantasia 2000 and Winnie the Pooh, yet it definitely feels the most corporate. This is to be expected, especially with it tackling the internet, but the level of flat-out shamelessness feels in your face. Between references to eBay, YouTube, Twitter, viral videos, search bars, pop-up blockers and online video game servers, I was half-expecting a Rick-Roll. And, thankfully, the movie didn’t disappoint there either.
However, it all clicks, no pun intended. And I think that has to do with Disney’s artistic side, as everything about the movie, even its corporate cynicism, is crafted with a weird sense of love and adoration. Some parts feel like they’re stretching it, like how Ralph’s videos on BuzzTube go viral so quickly and net him big bucks (trust me, it’s not that simple), but it doesn’t lose sight of its own charm. The movie’s creators seem like they actually care, and this extends to the film’s (2nd)-best scene:
This scene should be the most cynical, contrived part of the entire movie: it’s self-referential, taking place at “Oh My Disney!” (which, by the way, is a real site.) All of the canonical Disney princesses are present, with the living voice actresses reprising their roles, and they each lament their tropes to the audience. And it feels like padding, as Ralph Breaks the Internet borders on 2-hours. Despite this, it’s funny, clever and really well-acted, even resurfacing in the movie’s third-act. So despite later reminding you that, yes, Disney owns the rights to the 60’s Batman theme, because 20th Century Fox, it’s hard to really stay mad when the creators made a great pitcher of lemonade out of shrivelled up, corporate lemons.
You know what else feels refreshingly sincere? The film’s musical showstopper and, arguably, all-around best scene, one destined for a Best Original Song nomination at The Oscars. In it, Vanellope, lamenting about her fondness for the online game Slaughter Race, sings about how she prefers the game to Sugar Rush. It’s a great number that showcases Sarah Silverman and Gal Gadot’s singing chops (which surprised me), but the lyrics are grossly self-aware. You can only hear a line like “Hey, there’s a Dollar Store!” in the opening verse so many times before you smirk at its corporate corniness.
But that’s how Disney is in general: they put enough heart into cash-grabs to make you forget they’re cash-grabs. They repackage the same product in different ways to make you crave it over and over. They also show their awful, business side repeatedly, but you forget all about that with their next offering. Disney, like Nintendo, knows how to force your own nostalgia down your throat and not make you choke, cynical as that is. And if people can overlook Nintendo suing shamelessly over ROM disputes and firing Alison Rapp for moonlighting prostitution in university, then they can overlook Disney unjustly firing James Gunn and not distancing themselves from John Lasseter after his predatory behaviour became public knowledge.
That’s what makes Disney successful, after all! It’s not like they don’t have talented individuals working for them, because they do: they have a strong team of animators and writers. Pixar’s one of their subsidiaries. They’ve made billions of dollars from Marvel and Star Wars, and they’ll soon add Indiana Jones to their repertoire. They even had a temporary deal with Studio Ghibli, pumping money into their later productions and distributing their films in the West. Say what you will about Disney, but there are people in the company who care!
And I don’t think that’s unintentional. As a child, it might’ve seemed like Disney was of contradictory minds, but as an adult I no longer see the contradiction: they can, and do, co-exist. It’s possible to be both corporate and passionate. And it’s possible to build an empire from quality entertainment. Because if Walt Disney himself has taught us anything, it’s that an astute businessman sees the market and jumps on it…even if that means stepping on the toes of others.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna whine some more about the “live-action” remake of The Lion King, even though I’ll probably end up watching it…
Growing up, I assumed that Disney was of two minds. The first mind gave us classics like Fantasia, The Jungle Book, The Disney Renaissance films and, later, Pixar’s line-up. The second mind routinely made bad, corporate decisions and shovelled out garbage in an attempt to shamelessly pander to children. These two minds, at least on the outset, appeared to clash, such that I never could peg the company: were they responsible for some of the best movies ever, or were they responsible for some of the worst movies ever? Did they cater to families, or openly insult them?
I know I’m not alone on my feelings. Many people, myself included, have expressed thoughts about Disney’s recent business practices-from acquiring 20th Century Fox, to unjustly firing James Gunn over old Tweets he’s apologized for-yet have still ended up watching their films anyway. They’ve openly derided Disney’s corporate self-awareness in their recent work, all-the-while enjoying this self-deprecation. They’ve even mocked their shameless live-action remakes of classic movies, despite still seeing them. For every complaint you can lob at Disney’s corporate side, you can as easily give a compliment to their creative side.
Perhaps this is most-apparent in Ralph Breaks the Internet. The film is their fourth canonical sequel, right after The Rescuers Down Under, Fantasia 2000 and Winnie the Pooh, yet it definitely feels the most corporate. This is to be expected, especially with it tackling the internet, but the level of flat-out shamelessness feels in your face. Between references to eBay, YouTube, Twitter, viral videos, search bars, pop-up blockers and online video game servers, I was half-expecting a Rick-Roll. And, thankfully, the movie didn’t disappoint there either.
However, it all clicks, no pun intended. And I think that has to do with Disney’s artistic side, as everything about the movie, even its corporate cynicism, is crafted with a weird sense of love and adoration. Some parts feel like they’re stretching it, like how Ralph’s videos on BuzzTube go viral so quickly and net him big bucks (trust me, it’s not that simple), but it doesn’t lose sight of its own charm. The movie’s creators seem like they actually care, and this extends to the film’s (2nd)-best scene:
Snow White’s vocal solo always gets me. (Courtesy of Disney UK.)
This scene should be the most cynical, contrived part of the entire movie: it’s self-referential, taking place at “Oh My Disney!” (which, by the way, is a real site.) All of the canonical Disney princesses are present, with the living voice actresses reprising their roles, and they each lament their tropes to the audience. And it feels like padding, as Ralph Breaks the Internet borders on 2-hours. Despite this, it’s funny, clever and really well-acted, even resurfacing in the movie’s third-act. So despite later reminding you that, yes, Disney owns the rights to the 60’s Batman theme, because 20th Century Fox, it’s hard to really stay mad when the creators made a great pitcher of lemonade out of shrivelled up, corporate lemons.
You know what else feels refreshingly sincere? The film’s musical showstopper and, arguably, all-around best scene, one destined for a Best Original Song nomination at The Oscars. In it, Vanellope, lamenting about her fondness for the online game Slaughter Race, sings about how she prefers the game to Sugar Rush. It’s a great number that showcases Sarah Silverman and Gal Gadot’s singing chops (which surprised me), but the lyrics are grossly self-aware. You can only hear a line like “Hey, there’s a Dollar Store!” in the opening verse so many times before you smirk at its corporate corniness.
But that’s how Disney is in general: they put enough heart into cash-grabs to make you forget they’re cash-grabs. They repackage the same product in different ways to make you crave it over and over. They also show their awful, business side repeatedly, but you forget all about that with their next offering. Disney, like Nintendo, knows how to force your own nostalgia down your throat and not make you choke, cynical as that is. And if people can overlook Nintendo suing shamelessly over ROM disputes and firing Alison Rapp for moonlighting prostitution in university, then they can overlook Disney unjustly firing James Gunn and not distancing themselves from John Lasseter after his predatory behaviour became public knowledge.
That’s what makes Disney successful, after all! It’s not like they don’t have talented individuals working for them, because they do: they have a strong team of animators and writers. Pixar’s one of their subsidiaries. They’ve made billions of dollars from Marvel and Star Wars, and they’ll soon add Indiana Jones to their repertoire. They even had a temporary deal with Studio Ghibli, pumping money into their later productions and distributing their films in the West. Say what you will about Disney, but there are people in the company who care!
And I don’t think that’s unintentional. As a child, it might’ve seemed like Disney was of contradictory minds, but as an adult I no longer see the contradiction: they can, and do, co-exist. It’s possible to be both corporate and passionate. And it’s possible to build an empire from quality entertainment. Because if Walt Disney himself has taught us anything, it’s that an astute businessman sees the market and jumps on it…even if that means stepping on the toes of others.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna whine some more about the “live-action” remake of The Lion King, even though I’ll probably end up watching it…