GoldenEye in 2023

Like many Millennials, I grew up with Nintendo consoles. I was 3 years-old when I was first introduced to Mario on my cousin’s NES, and I remember going to his grandmother’s cottage every Summer to play games for the system. I was also the perfect age for The N64, being 6 years-old when it debuted. I’d go over to friends and family to play it regularly, as I didn’t have one of my own. But my biggest and most-interesting discovery was being introduced to GoldenEye 007 in 1997. I remember walking in on a neighbour finishing one of the game’s levels, and I was struck by how bizarre it was; after all, how could a disembodied hand hold a gun, let-alone shoot enemies?

My memories only became stronger over time. I didn’t fully-grasp the game’s single-player right away, but multiplayer was my bread and butter. Whenever I went to a birthday party or sleepover, odds were that multiplayer was the first pick. And I was happy to participate, even if my first or second pick for a character wasn’t available. As I hit teenage-hood and experimented with emulators, something I’d advise against, my game of choice was still GoldenEye 007. I’d become so engrossed that when I finally sat down and watched the movie it was based on, I was disappointed that it didn’t meet my expectations!

I mention this because GoldenEye 007’s now available on The Switch and Xbox Series X. While this is great, since it’s been in licensing limbo for decades, it’s the Switch version that interests me. Despite having been birthed on a Nintendo console, a part of me wonders if it was worth waiting. After all, my memories are nostalgic, and nostalgia can blind you to time. So I’m worried the game doesn’t hold up.

This isn’t to disparage the game and its legacy. Far from it! GoldenEye 007 was a trailblazer in many respects. It helped make multiplayer shooters a phenomenon on home consoles, and it’s a great game! But having beaten the campaign roughly 2 decades ago for the first time, there were grievances and issues I had that made it feel antiquated. Some, like the controls, were unavoidable given the limitations of The N64, while others, like certain gameplay mechanics, have aged poorly. Even for a trailblazer from the late-90’s, not everything adds up the way I remember it.

For unavoidable issues, the controls are the big one. Unlike modern controllers, which have two analog sticks, The N64’s Trident controller only had one. This meant that general maneuvering was done with the joystick, while controlling the camera was done with the C-pad buttons. Most modern FPS games have more streamlined camera controls, so a C-pad instead of a C-stick, especially on a controller that was awkwardly-designed, feels like a step backward.

That’s to be expected, though. We take dual joysticks for granted, but in 1997 even having one was a novelty. The joystick wasn’t “new”, the Atari 2600 had one in the late-70’s, but it’d been abandoned by the mid-80’s. The N64, therefore, took a huge risk by bringing it back, and even The PS1 didn’t introduce dual-joysticks until later. So despite being a trailblazer, The N64’s controls were going to feel awkward when reskinned anyway.

On the subject of inevitable issues, the gameplay mechanics of GoldenEye 007 definitely feel their age. These include constantly screwing up basic objectives, leaving the main map of a level and realizing that you’ve messed up, getting stuck because you didn’t know you were supposed to use stealth and those tedious escort missions involving Natalya. This is on top of the game’s relentless difficulty and giving you one chance to complete objectives. It’s a lot. And it’s enough to drive people mad.

I get it: you’re a double-agent, not a marine. Your objectives are laser-focused to feel like you’re a spy. This includes the frustrations of repeated failure, as well as the satisfaction of getting something right. All of this works in favour of the game’s theme and atmosphere, which it excels in. None of these choices are accidental.

However, that doesn’t mean the design approach isn’t unbelievably-frustrating. Because it is. And even ignoring the old-school style of difficulty, that doesn’t excuse some of the limitations that modern FPS franchises have avoided or improved on. Nor does it excuse some of the game’s glitches and unfinished objectives, of which there are several.

I feel bad for bringing these issues up. Like I said, GoldenEye 007 earned its place as a classic on The N64 for a reason! And it’s not like the game’s entirely unsalvageable in 2023! I guarantee that I’ll have fun playing the game now, even if I struggle with certain sections. But flaws are flaws, and time isn’t always kind to classics. If memory’s any indication, then I’m sure that I’ll have many thoughts when I beat it again. I only hope they’re mostly-positive.

Forspoken is Forsaken!

I sometimes wonder if people make a stink about controversies because they have an axe to grind: She-Hulk twerks! Metroid Dread isn’t a $60 game! Luke Skywalker in Star Wars: The Last Jedi sucks! And for the latest one, Forspoken’s dialogue is cringe! It’s definitely pathetic, but since fauxrage drives conversations, I guess I’ll hop on the bandwagon.

Anyway, Forspoken. Despite the teaser promising something interesting-normal girl gets transported to fantasy world and lives out wish fulfillment-people were fixated on the writing. It was “too quippy”, “too self-aware”, “too snarky”. That was the discourse for a while, and it was seriously mocked by several (admittedly-funny) YouTubers. Now that the demo has been released for The PlayStation 5, that’s what everyone’s talking about…again.

I haven’t played Forspoken, and I don’t think I will. I don’t own a PS5, as the console’s out of my price range. But the reviews for it seem to be fine. They peg it as a passable action game, which appears to be what it was going for. The actual writing is, therefore, secondary, right?

You’d think, wouldn’t you? I’ve played great games with terrible stories before. Some didn’t even have stories! Many of those games are classics, and a few are personal favourites. Video games are unique in that, unlike other literary mediums, player interaction is first-and-foremost to narratives, so it’s easier to be forgiving in that department.

Forspoken is yet another example of that. So its dialogue being front-and-centre in the conversation is a little odd. Especially since it’s coasting on the “Joss Whedon class of character quips and one-liners”. But is it? And is that inherently bad?

I don’t want to sound like a Joss Whedon apologist. I’m not. The man’s creepy and abusive to his crew, and has had allegations of sexual assault thrown his way. Me defending him wouldn’t only be hypocritical, given my history with sexual assault, it’d be wrong. It’d also be demoralizing to sexual assault survivors.

That said, Whedon wasn’t the progenitor of this style of writing. Quippy dialogue has existed for centuries, and various writers have used it. William Shakespeare, one of the greatest playwrights in The West, used quips and snarky language in his plays constantly, especially in his comedies. If anything, Whedon was following in Shakespeare’s footsteps by “popularizing” this for audiences in the modern age.

Besides, the protagonist in Forspoken appears to be a teenager, judging by her design. And don’t teenagers tend to be quipsters anyway? I remember being in high school and behaving like I was hot stuff. It’s embarrassing in hindsight, but that was to be expected for a 17 year-old. This game’s tapping into that energy, so I don’t see the problem.

Additionally, Forspoken isn’t all that “cringy” compared to many superhero and young adult stories. This is especially true of The MCU, a franchise that has all of its characters, even the adults, sounding like that at various points. Even non-MCU superheroes, like Deadpool, have a habit of being quipsters. And this is all well-loved entertainment, so…

I’m also confused as to why this is an issue anyway. I’ve listened to some of the lines, they’re fine. This is a game about a normal teenager who’s sucked into a fantasy world from an unusual scenario. And she realizes that she has powers. Ignoring the teenager component, who wouldn’t behave like her? I know I would!

I know what this is really about. The protagonist, Frey Holland, is a black woman who happens to be a teenager. Additionally, the game’s writing is going for a comedic vibe. Considering that the gaming world’s notorious for sexism and racism (there are so many horror stories), I can’t help wondering if this is related. It probably is.

I can see quippy writing not being your cup of tea. There are many writing styles that don’t appeal to me either. But something not being for you doesn’t give you an excuse to be a jerk for no reason, and that’s what’s happening. It’s not even like Forspoken’s trying to be self-aware, edgy nonsense akin to Velma, because then I could see the complaints being valid. No, Forspoken is yet another run-of-the-mill action game for The PlayStation line of consoles. It simply happens to have a character who’s upbeat enough to constantly crack jokes about her situation.

Finally, I think we need to not let piss-poor teasers ruin our perception of what something really is. Plenty of mid-to-great games and movies have had bad teasers, it’s the nature of meeting deadlines. Forspoken’s yet another example, and that’s okay. People were making a stink about nothing. And we need to stop, or we’ll start devaluing how outsiders view our hobbies. (Or, at least, we’ll start devaluing our hobbies more than we do.)

Now then, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll focus my attention on something worth my time!

Reminiscing About ScrewAttack...

I’ve been dreading this for almost 9 years. Unlike my Infinite Rainy Day experience, which I enjoyed a lot, my experience with ScrewAttack was…“mixed”. I enjoyed aspects, but not most of it. However, enough time has passed, so I figured I’d share my reflections. Plus, I’m feeling nostalgic.

My experience with ScrewAttack began with The Angry Video Game Nerd. But unlike most stories, it was gradual. It started with a Google Video series called “Stupid Mario” in 2006. I was a teenager into Nintendo games, and I needed an outlet. The show’s no longer accessible, but it followed Mario from Super Mario 64 DS reminiscing with Toad about his adventures in Super Mario 64. Around the halfway mark of Season 2, a commenter simply typed “AVGN” with a timestamp. So I looked that up on Google and discovered The Angry Video Game Nerd.

Watching James Rolfe’s content didn’t automatically lead me to ScrewAttack. It simply led me to James Rolfe’s content. It was a year later that I learned that he was being hosted on a site called GameTrailers. I was curious. From there, I was introduced to a slew of high-quality video game videos, including a recurring feature from “ScrewAttack”. They were posting content regularly, so I frequented their stuff on GameTrailers alongside The Angry Video Game Nerd.

It wasn’t until late-2008, when my alma mater went on strike, that I spotted an ad for ScrewAttack’s website on GameTrailers. Within hours, I’d written my first piece. Despite gaining some traction, I developed cold feet and deleted the post. I then asked for my account to be deleted too. Having my ScrewAttack profile wiped (supposedly) meant that I could focus on browsing anonymously.

Unfortunately, not accessing the site was anxiety-inducing, especially in light of a now close-friend rising up the ranks. After months of witnessing him gain traction with his “rants”, I decided to come back. My account, it turned out, had been locked, but a quick chat with an admin quickly fixed that. One blog entry later, in the Summer of 2009, I was officially a g1. And I started posting like wild, earning a place in the community.

My first year on ScrewAttack had its ups and downs. The non-invasive feedback I was receiving helped me improve my academic writing, and the site’s archaic tools forced me to learn XHTML. I also made friends with fellow g1s, read other work and had some of my best work featured on the main page. Yet my ventures onto the forums were a nightmare, as I kept getting locked out whenever I cleared my history. My anxiety and insecurity also made me compulsively promote my work to other people, gaining me a reputation as a content spammer.

It didn’t help that the mods and admins were volunteers who didn’t catch everything. Or when they did, I was at their mercy. Sure, there was the “Overlooked and Underrated” series a fellow g1 created, but it was always a game of chance. I frequently viewed the 5 slots for featured content as a reminder of my “inadequacy”, and the special achievements were daunting. Some of my concerns were silly in hindsight, but one of the achievements was logging in every day for a full year. How was I supposed to accomplish that with all the Jewish holidays?!

In late-2009, ScrewAttack had a huge overhaul. While the previous layout, V3, was small and intimate, it felt enclosed and unwelcoming. You had to fight for recognition, which bred jealousy and resentment. V4, in contrast, was poised to be “more democratic” and “user-friendly”. No longer would content have to be vetted.

Sadly, while V4 looked pretty, it was an absolute nightmare. The main layout was buggy beyond belief, and new content had a harder time getting noticed because of a lack of quality control. It didn’t help that “quality” was determined with user ratings, which, more than V3’s leaderboards, bred immense jealousy and pettiness. V4 was an unfinished mess, and it made navigating through it a nightmare. The only advantage was that the forums were more easily-accessible thanks to it using DHCP, something I was in the minority about liking. And even then, it was quickly abandoned in favour of PPPoE a few months in.

Perhaps V4’s biggest Achilles’ Heel was its points system. V3’s points were awarded based on hard work and merit. Sure, it was subjective, but you usually felt like you’d earned then. V4’s points, however, were disaster. You not only received them for posting content, you received them for posting comments. This encouraged gaming the system, which I learned quickly when I was briefly the highest-scoring user on the site in 2010. It was like gambling, and I needed more. It also spiked my anxiety.

It didn’t help that I was getting into confrontations with other g1s. In hindsight, I should’ve seen the red flags of mental health issues, as I was struggling academically too, but I was so caught up that I didn’t care. And it backfired, as I ended up banned from the site for a month after a huge altercation with some g1s in the comments of a joke video. That was my “All Is Lost” moment, and it forced me to self-reflect. My sleep had been hampered up until then, so being offline forced me to recalibrate. It also allowed me to detox.

Of course, the ban was lifted in March of 2010, provided that I learned self-restraint. And I did…somewhat. I no longer became trigger-happy with my commenting and posting, which was good. But I still had to deal with harassment from various g1s, some of whom trashed me behind my back. The latter was also something I wouldn’t discover until much later.

In early-2011, I was invited to a closed-Beta of ScrewAttack’s then-new layout, V5. The site downscaled a lot, feeling truer to V3, but with that came a lack of direction. What was ScrewAttack planning to do about user content? Why did the layout look bland? Would the V4 content transfer over? And how would g1 interactions work? ScrewAttack had tripled in size by then, so scaling back, even superficially, seemed like a downgrade.

But I persisted. My writing style had drastically shifted by then, so I was writing more diverse content. I also was starting to acknowledge my mental health issues. It was starting to feel like ScrewAttack was no longer right for me. But I kept at it anyway.

This was also the peak of my forum woes. All of my issues on the main page were now in forum posts, compounded by finally having proper access to them. I was butting heads with everyone there, even good friends, and it finally culminated in a brief, one-week forum ban in early-2013. This time, however, I didn’t learn anything, instead coming back with baggage and frustrations over the community not being open and respectful. The forum g1s responded in kind.

My time with ScrewAttack finally ended in the Summer of 2014, when I took up a post on Infinite Rainy Day. I stayed with the forums for a little longer, but the site had outlived its purpose. ScrewAttack itself was also dying, being mismanaged to the point of a buyout by Rooster Teeth. Besides, GamerGate was at its peak, causing many long-time friends to part ways with me. In other words, I’d moved on.

Looking back, my ScrewAttack years were a mixed-bag. They helped me network and build my writing, which I’m grateful for, but they also gave me plenty of grief. Whether it was fighting for attention in V3, fighting with g1s in V4, or having forum headaches in V5, for every gain, there were two losses. I even wondered if my surface notoriety was a bad case of Imposter Syndrome, made worse by discovering nasty forum posts on a sister site. So while I made friends and improved my craft, I’m glad to have moved on.

At the same time, I’m sad the site no longer exists. ScrewAttack was a big part of my late-teens and early-adulthood, fraught with headaches and trauma. But it taught me valuable life skills and helped shape me. Those 6-7 years fulfilled a critical role, and for that I’m grateful. I simply wish they’d been less of an emotional rollercoaster…

Velma's Toxic Edginess

Sometimes I frequent my old pieces and wonder if what I said was too on-the-nose. Other times, I wonder if I didn’t say enough. And then there are moments where I made predictions that were heavy-handed, but didn’t go hard enough. Such is the case with Velma, which recently debuted its first season to mixed reception. Despite my initial thoughts being nothing more than a footnote, I think I undersold the show:

“We’re seeing that, for example, with HBO Max’s Velma, which sees Velma Dinkley reimagined as a detective who drops f-bombs.”

My problem, despite not fully realizing it, was that Velma wanted to be the Scooby-Doo-esque answer to Harley Quinn. The latter was a reimagining of the DC character as an antiheroine with a foul mouth. HBO Max doesn’t exist in Canada, but the clips I’ve seen have made it clear that it’s not for me. However, despite my issues with the writing, it at least has respect for its characters. Velma, on the other hand, doesn’t.

It's unfortunate that I’m even talking about this, as the show’s already received plenty of ire. On the right, it’s been derided as “woke garbage”. On the left, it’s been derided for being unnecessarily try-hard and edgy, despite making updates to certain characters that are interesting. It feels like I’m out of my league for saying anything at all, as I’d be talking over the voices of Desi-Americans. But since the show’s taking flak from them as is, I’ll take a stab as an outsider while trying not to talk over anyone. I apologize in advance if I’m unsuccessful.

For as much as I’ve been critical of the Scooby-Doo franchise before, I admire its weird charm. The idea of five ragtag, teenaged musicians who solve mysteries is cute. Equally charming is how anti-authoritarian the franchise is, teaching kids to be skeptical of those in charge. The reality that grownups can take advantage of those closest to them was radical in the 60’s, but has especially caught on in the decades since. Franchises like Harry Potter and A Series of Unfortunate Events owe some gratitude to Scooby-Doo for that.

That said, Scooby-Doo was a weird series. For as much as it broke ground, it wasn’t without fault. It was cheaply-made, formulaic, recycled the same stock twist (the mastermind was the last person you’d expect, yet the one person everyone trusted the most) and…dabbled in harmful stereotypes. That last point even lingered in the live-action movies penned by James Gunn. I remember enjoying the franchise as a child, but adult me needs more.

Unfortunately, the franchise was aware of this. Despite Scooby-Doo Where Are You?’s success, future iterations, like every Hanna-Barbera series, struggled to remain relevant and kept reinventing themselves. Most of the time they failed, but every-so-often you had What’s New Scooby-Doo? and Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated. Velma, theoretically, is yet another reimagining. It’s also, to its credit, different.

That said, I wish that it’d yielded better results. Aside from the controversies surrounding its main VA, a lot of the changes haven’t gone over well. Shaggy, or Norville, as a black teenager who’s anti-drugs sounds interesting in theory, but his personality revolving solely around that is tiresome. Daphne and Fred, once the franchise’s cutest couple, are now drug dealers and petty jerks. This isn’t factoring in Velma, who’s been downgraded to a mouthpiece for…unusual politics. It sounds weird saying that, but have a listen for yourselves.

Regardless, it’s not the slam-dunk reimagining HBO Max wanted. It’s not even that the show has no reverence for its characters, as that can be done well! No, Velma’s embarrassed to be Scooby-Doo adjacent, something made worse by it openly calling that out in-show. I’m not joking about that.

A lot of the blame’s being lobbed at Mindy Kaling. While I’ve enjoyed art from outwardly-controversial individuals before-I like the Avatar movies-this isn’t solely on her. That’s not to discount her, but she’s not the show-runner or head writer. The rot’s impacting the entire branch, and that needs calling out. Focusing solely on Kaling here is racist and misogynistic.

The backlash from the far-right isn’t much better. Whether it’s reactionary videos on YouTube, or complaining that Shaggy’s now a black man, it’s caused Velma to gain legs in the larger conversation. Because it shouldn’t matter that Shaggy’s now black. What matters is how needlessly-edgy Velma is, including jokes and lines that sound “mature” when they’re really not. It’s like this show went to the Deadpool school of writing, forgetting that Deadpool, when written well, is also sincere.

If anything can be extrapolated, it’s that Velma’s another “dark reimagining” of a children’s property. And like The Amazing Spider-Man and Transformers movies, it falls flat on its face. Besides, what’s wrong with lighthearted and fun? Some of my favourite shows are lighthearted and fun! Why are people so scared of that?

Finally, I should address the elephant in the room: in a recent panel at New York Comic-Con, Charlie Grandy, the show-runner for Velma, stated that he didn’t want Scooby-Doo in the series because he was “too kiddy”. I don’t buy that. Family Guy, one of the highest-rated late-night sitcoms on TV, has a talking, anthropomorphized dog as a main character. Say what you will about it in general, but Family Guy isn’t going anywhere. And not including Scooby-Doo for that reason is lame.

So yes, that’s my take on Velma. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go watch something more to my liking…

The Porn Awakens

(Warning: Portions of the following piece contain mature subject matter. Reader discretion is strongly advised.)

The internet can be a rollercoaster sometimes.

Take anime. Ever since the internet’s accessibility has become democratized, there’s been a deluge of anime fan-art. Whether for fun or monetization, every fandom in the community has had its share of fan-art. And with that universal availability has come the issue of everyone wanting to share-and re-share-content with everyone else on the web. However, this freedom can also have some unintended, even troubling, consequences, as evidenced recently with the Toonami block.

I never grew up with Toonami. I live in Canada, after all. But I remember catching its shows when I went on Winter vacation to Florida, and I knew it was important culturally. So when the block was revived a decade ago, I eagerly awaited its arrival over here. The irony is that when it finally came, I’d lost interest in TV altogether.

Essentially, I didn’t keep up with the goings-on of Toonami. This made the announcement that it was ending its fan-art segment after two episodes, something I didn’t know it was doing to begin with, surprising. What was more surprising was why, something both hilarious and head-scratching. It all begins with vore.

What’s vore? It’s fan-art that centres around fetishized cannibalism. It’s popular on Booru sites, though I won’t show examples. It usually ticks off two boxes: cannibalism, and fat fetishism. Far be it from me to shame fans, as we all have our kinks.

When Toonami asked for its most-recent submissions of fan-art, a vore image of Nami from One Piece was unintentionally submitted. Or maybe it was intentional and meant as a joke, I’m not sure. Either way, it didn’t go over well, and, despite being featured for only a few seconds, it caused the segment to be pulled altogether. This is funny, especially given how jarring it was to see, but it’s also disconcerting because those few seconds of submission should’ve been properly vetted, but weren’t. Clearly someone knew this wouldn’t bode well and didn’t care. Or if they didn’t know, they exercised poor judgment.

But then there’s another problem here too: word has it that the original artist hadn’t consented to the publication of this content.

Now, I know Toonami’s current lineup is on late-night TV, hence its viewership, hopefully, is adults. But I wonder what would’ve happened had this block premiered in the afternoon like it used to. That’d put it into the kids and teenagers demographic, where it could cause parental and perhaps even legal outrage. After all, this is arguably pornographic art! We all know that kids browse porn anyway, but that doesn’t make it right…especially when there are guidelines for content on broadcast networks.

Either way, this is a bad look for Toonami. That’s not factoring in that this wasn’t meant for public consumption anyway. Like I said, the original artist apparently had never consented to this submission for public consumption. It even got so controversial that the co-creator of Toonami, Jason DeMarco, admitted to this on Twitter:

“So I guess the Toonami Fan Art submissions piece we aired last night had a person’s art in it that lives behind a paywall. Someone sent it to us under a false name as a ‘fan’. We’ve pulled it off of the Toonami FB and asked YouTube to pull it down as well.”

DeMarco later stated that Toonami’s vetting staff is tiny, so they rely on fan integrity. Whether or not that’s accurate, something clearly went awry here. It also sucks that Toonami’s now refusing to allow any more fan-art. Especially since most fan-art creators are small artists, and that level of exposure would be excellent. It’d also give fans a chance to see it.

So yes, this was clearly a blunder. While you could argue that this vore got more exposure for its creator than any paid subscriber, that doesn’t automatically make it right. Because the lack of consent is a problem, and that inadequacy of vetting content’s also a problem, and that’s what’s at stake.

It also highlights one of the perils to creators, that being sharing their online content. Many creators of such content use pseudonyms on the internet for a variety of reasons. And whether it’s fear of ostracism, putting their lives in jeopardy, or wishing to remain private, people don’t always feel comfortable sharing their stuff on the web. This includes fan-art creators. Especially vore.

Ultimately, this highlights the need for better moderation. Is it entirely Toonami’s fault? Probably not. Are they blameless? No, and they’ve even acknowledged that. Does this mean they should be cancelling the segment altogether? Well…

I get that tensions are high. This is the equivalent of someone being caught with their pants down, and it’s not pretty. We can laugh at it all we want, but it’s disturbing that this happened at all. Especially since other fan-art creators have to suffer. It’s bad all-around.

Nevertheless, I hope that cooler heads prevail and the segment returns. Like I said earlier, it’s great exposure! Exposure that wouldn’t come from a paywall! Think of the potential opportunities that could come from being featured on Toonami! Isn’t that reason enough to bring it back?

Either way, I’m sure this’ll get resolved. I simply hope that it gets resolved with as little a mess as possible.

Not for Me?

The internet’s terrible for thoughtful conversations: Israel-Palestine? A headache in the works. American politics? A similar headache in the works. Even more popular art and media aren’t exempt. I should know, I’ve made a Blogger profile for it!

It’s not like I don’t try to switching it up, because I do. But since January’s a tough month to write anything, I inevitably fall back on old topics. Like how people are annoying me about Avatar: The Way of Water, and how so much ink’s being spilled on something with “no cultural impact”. The irony speaks for itself, but it’s telling that I can’t discuss this franchise online without fights breaking out. And it’s not exclusive to the Avatar franchise.

Take Star Wars. You know the famous claim that “No one hates Star Wars more than Star Wars fans”? That’s not simply because it’s a hot commodity with a toxic fanbase. No, it’s because it’s a hot commodity with a toxic fanbase…that keeps reminding everyone of that whenever it’s brought up. Type in “Star Wars” to YouTube to see how many angry rants exist. It’s not pleasant.

I’ll go further. You know how I enjoy The MCU? You know how I’ve written extensively in defence of it despite not being my favourite movie series? Like with Star Wars, people can’t leave it alone. Be it film buffs discussing its “bad filmmaking”, or fans claiming The MCU’s “gone full-SJW”, the movies can’t take a break. And like Star Wars, the proof’s in the endless YouTube rants.

But the cream of the crop of headaches goes to the Avatar franchise. For 13 years, I endured bickering about how the films “left no cultural impact”, even though IMDB indicated otherwise. Right from Day 1, people called it “overrated”, even making vapid, long-winded rants about it. And when news of the sequel surfaced, the conversation became a debate over how little impact it’d had. So is it any wonder why I was so burnt out on having a conversation that didn’t involve arguments about it ripping off other properties?

I guess people don’t recognize that they’re not always the centre of attention. The world’s massive, with roughly 8 billion people living on it. Different countries also have different cinema tastes than The West. There’s a reason China’s a huge box-office draw these days: they have many people with disposable income, far more than here. They also like our filmmaking, sometimes copying it. If any conversation about impact is to happen, it should be outside The US.

Does this mean The US doesn’t matter? No. Most of these movies are made there, so they should have a say in the conversation. But they aren’t the be-all-end-all. That not only drowns out voices that aren’t normally spotlighted, it degrades the longevity of art.

Think about it: movies have legs beyond their theatrical windows. They age, they’re re-evaluated and reassessed, and they travel outside their country of origin. This is especially true for blockbusters, which, in recent decades, have taken cues from franchises like Star Wars and Indiana Jones, themselves amalgamations of stories and concepts from around the world. Star Wars particularly was inspired by The West (Wild West stories, Flash Gordon serials, D&D campaigns) to The East (Akira Kurosawa films, Samurai epics) and everything in-between. Because it was a hodgepodge of stories from all over, its sources should have input too.

That global perspective gets frequently ignored, however. Star Wars owes roughly 50% of its DNA to The East, but the internet largely doesn’t care about that. The MCU’s rooted in comics, many having been around for decades and having diverse fans, but, again, the internet ignores that. Even the Avatar films, which have done incredibly well in Asia, get glossed over from that standpoint. This exclusionary behaviour needs to change.

Sadly, mentioning that puts me at risk of backlash. But it shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t risk being shouted at and told “You’re wrong!” for suggesting there are other voices out there. It’s the wrong mentality, and it doesn’t have to be. It shouldn’t be “my way, or the highway” when discussing movies and their impacts.

Essentially, it’s time people become more honest about something not being for them. Because not everything’s going to appeal to everyone. I’m not big on The Matrix: Resurrections, despite preferring its dialogue to the previous three entries. I thought Mad Max: Fury Road was obnoxious, despite appreciating its dissection of the dangers of a patriarchal society. And while not a bad movie, X-Men: First Class is messy. If I can acknowledge this sobering truth with movies people love, then why can’t people do the same with movies I love? How hard is that?

Hard enough, apparently. Which saddens me. Yet that’s why it’s important to start making inroads. We’ll only get better if we try, after all! But having this conversation and changing people’s mindsets on this needs to happen eventually.

I’m not asking you to think that Avatar’s brilliant. I thought it was okay. But that’s perfectly acceptable, so long as people aren’t dicks. But they are. It’s sad because it shows a lack of maturity, and it’s sad because it shows unwillingness to be open to meaningful conversations. But most-importantly, it’s sad because it demonstrates a lack of critical thinking and engaging with media literacy. That’s unhealthy.

I’ll end with a story: in honour of Titanic’s 25th anniversary, a local newspaper did a feature on the movie’s impact in Afghanistan under the Taliban. To quote it directly:

“While millions across the world happily went to see it multiple times during its unprecedented nine-month theatrical run, Afghans had to turn to secret markets and streetside sellers operating in the shadows to watch the $200-million epic.”

If a widely-mocked movie like Titanic can have fans in an unexpected place, so too can other films we don’t care for. Remember that.