Best Panther: On The Academy Awards...

The Oscars are always a contentious subject. Not because I don’t get enjoyment watching them, I do, or because I enjoy watching the internet rip into them, I don’t, but because the nominations are way too subjective. Every year, it’s the same questions: what makes X more valid than Y? What would please everyone, if that’s even possible? And, more specifically, why argue over the equivalent of horse racing?

I mention this now in light of a semi-predictable and semi-surprising nomination for Best Picture. The Oscar nominations went up recently, and it was interesting to see Black Panther as a Best Picture contender. Granted, it’s in the category alongside BlacKKKlansman and Roma, but that it got in there at all is interesting since it’s the first superhero movie to ever be nominated. But is it warranted? And will it even win at all?

This is a tough issue to dissect, so I’ll play Devil’s Advocate and argue both sides again. Here goes:

Pros:

Superhero movies get a bad rap from The Academy.

It’s true: considering how there’ve been so many greats to choose from, especially within the last 10 years, The Academy’s paying long-overdue lip-service to the sub-genre. The fact that The Dark Knight and Logan, both powerful dramas that deconstructed what their leads stood for, went unnoticed in the Best Picture category is frustrating and disappointing, so this is a nice change of pace. It demonstrates, at least superficially, that The Academy is learning from past mistakes.

It's equally great because it shows that Black Panther resonated with audience members. Keep in mind that: a. Its critical reception was excellent, the best of any MCU entry to-date. b. Its box-office numbers were amazing, generating over $1 billion in ticket sales globally. c. It got people who don’t normally see movies, people from poor, black communities, to come to the theatre. The movie earning a Best Picture nomination is the cherry on top.

Think of the ripple effect this’ll have: not only does a high-profile, big-budget superhero movie get people talking, it also gets The Academy, a group of “stuffy old people”, talking as well! Much like when Beauty and the Beast and Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King were nominated for Best Picture, that a “non-Oscar type of movie” was considered for such a prestigious award is huge! And it’s a movie dealing with content not normally discussed!

Don’t think that an Afro-futurist superhero movie getting a Best Picture nomination will be unnoticed by black filmmakers. Because while the nomination is great, that black directors and storytellers can have their fiction movies recognized by The Academy, the people that make a huge mark on the public, speaks volumes. No longer must marginalized voices hide in the shadows, hoping they’ll catch a break and, maybe, be noticed by that executive who wanted to be generous. No, an Afro-centric story getting its dues financially and critically shows that there’s real, proven money to be made from taking risks.

Cons:

Okay, and?

I don’t want to demean Black Panther. I liked Black Panther a lot, even considering it my favourite MCU entry and one of my favourites of 2018. But it receiving a Best Picture nomination, while nice, doesn’t mean much to me. I don’t need my favourite movies to win medals.

There are two issues here that need addressing. Firstly, The Academy doesn’t pick its choices based on quality, even for Best Picture. If you want proof, look at some of its winners and see what they were up against. In the case of a few of them, you’d probably wonder why they were even nominated. Is this the hill we’re ready to die on?

The Oscars aren’t about quality filmmaking. They’re supposed to be in theory, but practice is a whole other ballpark. The Academy’s as political as it is money-driven, and it’s easy to sway the voters with the right incentive. Especially since, until quite recently, most of them were old, white and male. That’s not an indictment of the system, but it highlights its biases.

A few years ago, a shocking interview showed the voter mindsets in The Academy. It highlighted unsettling truths, namely how little they cared about being fair in their opinions. (It also highlighted an anti-animation bias, but that’s for another blog.) It’s clear that they were dead-set in their ways and had made their minds up even before actually watching their assigned films.

That leads to another issue, being whether or not their choices were even sincere. Did Black Panther get its nomination because The Academy liked it, or was it to get black filmgoers to “shut up”? It sounds awful to suggest that, because racism, but knowing The Academy’s past it’s not out of the question, either. Considering how they’ve made past nominations, even progressive ones, with an underlying agenda, I doubt this was an altruistic decision. Not when movies like Green Book and A Star Is Born received nominations, too.

Even ignoring that, I wouldn’t consider Black Panther last year’s best movie anyway. I wouldn’t even consider it last year’s best Afro-centric movie, as I liked BlacKKKlansman, The Hate U Give and, yes, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse more. Being a superhero movie that’s Afro-centric isn’t enough to cut it anymore, not with the strides that Afro-centric films have made over the past few years!

Finally, and this is a generalized complaint, I think The Oscars are too subjective to be that excited. So Black Panther got nominated for Best Picture? Okay, does it need the nomination to be good? And will everyone be happy? The answer to both questions is “no”. Besides, it probably won’t win Best Picture anyway. That honour will go to a safer, more predictable choice, if we’re being honest.

That’s my take on this ordeal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to begin my compare-contrast piece.

Why in the World is Carmen Sandiego So Good?

Carmen Sandiego’s a good show. You’re welcome for the recommendation.

Courtesy of Jon Sprague.

Okay, that was mean of me. Normally I’d reserve the end of January for my usual compare-contrast piece, but that’ll have to wait. In the meantime, I’ll share my thoughts on Season 1 of Carmen Sandiego. A show based on a 1985 computer game would’ve been the last place to find a family-friendly, dark subversion story, let-alone a good one, but after 9 episodes, I think there’s enough to warrant a blog entry. (Be warned, spoilers!)

The story follows Carmen Sandiego, a Robin Hood-style thief who’s caught the eye of Interpol. We learn, through a conversation with an old acquaintance, that she’s from Buenos Aires and was abandoned as a baby outside a criminal organization called VILE. Initially a prankster, Carmen, or “Black Sheep”, becomes interested in joining VILE. Despite failing her final exam, Carmen sneaks out of VILE’s headquarters and realizes what’s actually going on. She then escapes and adopts the name of Carmen Sandiego, dedicating her life to foiling VILE’s operations.

It’s a pretty basic set-up, but it’s interesting if you’ve followed the franchise before. Carmen Sandiego’s been the focus of several games and shows, but she’s never been a “heroine”. She was always the main foil, a thief who steals out of boredom and leaves clues for the heroes to find. Here, however, she’s an anti-hero, stealing valuables from other thieves and returning them to their owners. It’s a controversial take on the character, essentially.

But it’s an interestingly one, though. While past entries were interesting, I’d never understood what made Carmen Sandiego tick. I’d never been able to pick her brain, or get a feel for who she was. Carmen Sandiego, despite being a departure from tradition, does exactly that. And it’s all-the-better for it.

This change makes for a more interesting cast. Ignoring Carmen Sandiego, franchise staples like Zack and Ivy, normally the duo trying to stop her, are now accomplices, while Player’s given a face. The Interpol agents sent to hunt Carmen, Julia and Chase Devineaux, are also fun to watch, especially with how much more competent Julia is than Devineaux. Even the VILE operatives are quirky and colourful, instead of generic grunts. I do wish that VILE weren’t another “evil for the sake of it” corporation, but that’s a minor quibble.

Aesthetically, Carmen Sandiego’s top-notch. Flash animation gets flak for being “cheap and lazy”, but the end-results can be excellent if done well. And this is easily on-par with any traditionally-animated film from Hollywood, even with its budget limitations. You can pause at any point in an episode and admire the attention to detail, a sign that lots of hard work went into it. The character models are also really pleasing, which helps.

I like the voice acting, too. Carmen Sandiego has a strong roster of VAs, including heavy-hitters like Liam O’Brien and Mary Elizabeth McGlynn, but shout-outs go to Gina Rodriguez and Finn Wolfhard as Carmen and Player respectively. Rodriguez brings an innocence and vulnerability to Carmen, while Wolfhard cranks up the confidence of Player to 11. You can tell they’re enjoying their roles, which makes watching them interact that much more entertaining.

That also helps with the show’s educational segments. The games’ focus was on teaching kids geography and world history, and it transfers over to this show. Each episode begins with Carmen and Player bantering back-and-forth about their current destination, serving as exposition for the greater objective. While this could easily get boring, Carmen Sandiego plays into this aspect with excellent visuals. I’m not ashamed to admit that I learned details about different countries that I never knew prior, and I used to study maps!

Carmen Sandiego leans on a narrative hybrid of episodic storytelling and overarching storytelling. The episodic content feels like “villain of the week” material, with Carmen and her crew foiling the latest attempt by VILE and the villain(s) narrowly getting away at the end. This feels a little repetitive after a while, more on that later, but it’s complimented by solid action and clever writing. The overarching narrative, however, is where the real meat of the show is, delving more into Carmen’s history and existential crisis:

What’s Carmen Sandiego’s real name?

Why was she adopted by VILE?

How did she develop a conscience?

And why does VILE hate her?

It’s interesting seeing the show go this route, and it opens a can of worms not touched on by previous iterations. Carmen, by osmosis, becomes the Western equivalent of Fujiko from Lupin III: The Woman Called Fujiko Mine, given that both shows tackle their respective franchise’s female lead and delve into their psyches. If you’ve seen both shows, then you’ll notice parallels. I doubt this is accidental either, and I’d be surprised if the show-runners for Carmen Sandiego hadn’t looked there, as well as Kim Possible, for inspiration.

Is Carmen Sandiego flawless? No. Aside from the repetitive nature of the episodes, more on that in a bit, the show, or its first season, feels like a “Villain of the Week” series. This is because VILE’s operatives are unbelievably-incompetent, constantly being foiled by not only Carmen, but her accomplices Zack and Ivy. I understand the former, since Carmen’s the “best of the best”, but when Carmen’s allies can fool expert thieves, there’s a problem. In one episode, Zack tells an unconvincing lie to a VILE operative to distract him…and he buys it. In another, Zack dresses like an aristocrat, goes to a dinner party for VILE’s elites, breaks character several times and still manages to foil their plans! This got to be such a running joke that when VILE operative Paperstar succeeded at her mission in Episode 7, I was relieved to see something different for a change.

The show, after the two-part introduction, can also feel, like I mentioned earlier, repetitive: Carmen goes to a part of the world to stop VILE. Carmen fights a VILE operative. Carmen wins. Carmen returns what was originally stolen, and the VILE operative escapes yet again. By the time Episode 9 rolled along, I was half expecting this to happen yet again because I was so used to it. So when the episode, instead, revealed a surprise twist involving Carmen’s relationship to Shadowsan, it shocked me.

Overall, Carmen Sandiego’s already showing lots of promise. It has its kinks and bugs, partly due to being episodic, and being family-friendly definitely holds it back a bit, but the parts that work more than compensate. Best of all, it’s subversive while being fun and educational. Not many shows can claim stake to both simultaneously, so it’s impressive when they are. I’m anxiously awaiting the next batch of episodes when they arrive later this year on Netflix!

A Series of Unfortunate Events Review

A mini-series is quite tricky to execute. On one hand, it has to contend with not being long enough to be a full show, but also too long to be a movie. On the other hand, it has to find that sweet-spot between the two. Factor in budget limitations, and you’re left to juggle good storytelling with restrictions and time-constraints. It’s a tough balancing act, one that not every mini-series can pull off.

My name is Zachary Perlmutter, and it’s my solemn duty to discuss the Netflix adaptation of A Series of Unfortunate Events. All pretence aside, I’ve been following this series for over three years, with my excitement beginning prior to Season 1. It had a solid premise, a strong cast, and it was being made for serialized streaming. Considering that the 13 books this show was based on were already serialized, it made more sense to adapt them into a mini-series instead of jamming them into 4 or 5 films. There’d also be more room to let the story breathe this way.

A Series of Unfortunate Events, for those unfamiliar, follows the lives of Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, three intelligent children who are tragically orphaned when their mansion burns in a mysterious fire. Initially sent to a creepy, distant relative named Count Olaf, their situation gets worse when it’s revealed that Olaf wants to marry Violet so he can get his hands on their inheritance. The rest of the story involves the Baudelaires travelling from place to place in hopes of refuge, all-the-while being pursued by Olaf in a variety of phoney disguises. They also soon discover a secret organization that may be linked to their parents’ deaths. But what is this organization, and why’s Count Olaf so interested in their fortune?

A Series of Unfortunate Events is a collaborative effort between Daniel Handler, the author of the books, and show-runner Barry Sonnenfeld, whose repertoire includes the Men in Black and Addams Family films. Many long-running stories tend to get muddied with conflicting artists’ visions, so having everything overseen by two or three people often makes for a more cohesive end product. This is definitely the case here, as everything about this 25-episode series, right down to its aesthetic and tone, is consistent. Nothing feels wasted either, which is a plus.

The most-striking part is the cast. Ignoring the three leads, who are fantastic in their own right, A Series of Unfortunate Events has many character actors in side and primary roles, and they all bring their A-game. Whether it be famous stars, like Cobie Smulders and Nathan Fillion, or lesser-known stars, like K. Todd Freeman and Aasif Mandvi, no one is wasted or miscast. Perhaps the two stand-outs are Neil Patrick Harris and Patrick Warburton as Count Olaf and Lemony Snicket respectively. In the case of the former, Harris is clearly enjoying himself, hamming it up while simultaneously flexing his villainous chops. For the latter, Warburton breaks from his tough guy typecasting and delivers his deadpan monologues with enough grace to distract from how funny it is to hear him say them.

It helps that this show is unbelievably kitschy. Constant call-backs to espionage aside, every episode oozes with silliness, which makes it easier to swallow how dark and depressing the story is. Considering all the terrible events, tragedies, false starts and red herrings the Baudelaires regularly contend with, having no levity would make watching this show that much more unpleasant. Though, to be fair, this show is still an exercise in schadenfreude.

The intrigue is also really effective. As the episodes progress, you get a sense that there’s a much bigger picture than initially let on. The Baudelaires quickly discover that their parents were part of a bigger, more secretive organization, one with members all over the world. But who is this organization, and why did it collapse so abruptly? Each time you think you’ve learned a little more about what’s really going on, the rug is quickly pulled out from underneath you, until, like the Baudelaires, you’re left in the dark once more. It’s frustrating, it’s nail-biting and it’s brilliant.

One last point of note is the music, thanks to head composer James Newton Howard and songwriters Nick Urata and Handler himself. Their work-whether it’s the opening jingle warning to “look away”, or the tracks played in-show-makes A Series of Unfortunate Events as melodically fun as the writing. And it’s all memorable in some fashion.

That’s not to say the show’s perfect. Ignoring its cheap production value, because Netflix always puts budget restrictions on what they green-light, the writing’s incredibly on-the-nose. The characters routinely espouse what they’re feeling to the audience, which can be grating at times to sit through. Additionally, Warburton’s narration, though funny, tends to drone on. It’s not a deal-breaker, I adjusted quickly, but it could turn some viewers off.

The show can also feel padded. Because each book’s adapted into two episodes each, save for the finale, lots of filler is needed. Events that moved faster in the books take longer in the show, with ancillary material from Handler’s All the Wrong Questions filling in much of the cracks. It also doesn’t help that, after a while, the writing starts feeling formulaic.

Finally, for as dark as it is, I’d have liked if the emotional beats had more weight. Plenty of grim deaths and horrible situations occur throughout the show’s 25 episodes, yet none of them are given time to breathe. This is something that the 2004 movie, flawed as it was, understood how to do, and that was considerably shorter. Still, the finale more than makes up for it with a real heartbreaker, so it’s not a full loss.

Would I recommend A Series of Unfortunate Events? That depends on your tolerance for enjoying schadenfreude. I liked it enough to recommend it, since it kept picking my brain, and its underlying message about adversity in trying situations is welcomed, but whether or not you can tolerate the kitsch and unsubtle writing is up to you. Personally, I’m glad it exists, flaws and all.