In the Moment...

The worst argument I’ve heard against serials is that watching them requires “doing homework”. This isn’t only true of The MCU, but also Star Wars and DC. It’s treated as fact amongst naysayers, and I’m sick of it. Because, if we’re being honest, it’s not true. Here’s why:

Serialized storytelling has been around for decades. Going back to the early days of cinema, mini-movies, or “serials”, would often play before feature films. It wasn’t enough to watch the main event, you had to find out what’d happen next to Buck Rogers or Flash Gordon too. This was fun, but if you missed an adventure, there’d always be a recap. You weren’t obligated to watch every episode, even if doing so made you feel satisfied.

With the advent of TV, serialized shorts started to be phased out. But then came George Lucas in 1977 with the Star Wars franchise, which was basically theatrical serials for modern audiences. Four years later, Steven Spielberg, together with Lucas, gave us Indiana Jones and his adventures. Both franchises had larger stories, but each entry was also isolated and complete. This was especially true of Indiana Jones: each movie was a self-contained story.

Which leads me to today. While serialized, or long-form, storytelling is back, demonstrating that time’s a circle, the extent of its domination in pop culture can’t be understated. In particular, Disney, which currently owns Star Wars, Marvel and Indiana Jones, has profoundly impacted how serialization has transformed filmmaking. To paraphrase Movies with Mikey, franchises have a beginning and middle, but no end. They add additional lore to established canon constantly. The only “conclusion” they have is an arc, be it a trilogy or saga.

At face-value, this is a problem. How long can a story go on? But here’s where I challenge this by using a different medium: comic books. Comics, like those Marvel movies are based on, have been running for over a century, with longstanding stories culminating in crossover events that impact smaller runs. Even outside of Marvel and DC, Japanese comics, Manga, do the same, except for individual stories. There’s a reason Weekly Shonen Jump compiles action stories in their magazines!

It seems daunting to sift through decades of material, but remember that: a. comics often have recaps. b. the internet’s a great resource. And c. no one’s stopping you from skipping, backtracking or fast-forwarding a story, as it’s not mandatory. Comics don’t have to be a chore.

If comics have made this work, then so too can serialized storytelling. Remember, the Star Wars franchise has recaps in the form of opening crawls. We can easily recite these crawls by heart, but they’re still recaps. They serve the function of getting you caught up. And no one’s complained before, so why start now?

This brings me to my other point: jumping into the middle of a story isn’t new with these sorts of stories. Back in 1977, there was no backstory to introduce the conflict of Star Wars. You had no clue, save the opening crawl, what was going on initially. You aren’t even introduced to Luke Skywalker, the protagonist, until the opening act finishes, and by then at least dozen questions arise. But it doesn’t matter, because you were in the moment.

That’s the key. In writing, there’s something called “being in the moment”. You don’t want a dry opening explaining what you’re venturing into, unless you’re really good at being engaging, because you’ll bore your audience. No one wants a Star Wars movie to begin with lore, but a ship being chased by another, bigger ship? Two robots fleeing a shoot-out? A tall, imposing figure wearing a black suit walking into the hallway, its voice obscured by a breathing apparatus? All set to an arousing score? Sign me up!

Critics of serialized storytelling keep forgetting this. They’re so insistent on being spoon-fed context that they forget that that isn’t the top priority. Focus on engaging the audience, the context comes later! That includes any “catching up” or “homework” you’re expected to do. Be in the moment.

I recently started watching Ahsoka in preparation for its finale. I’ve been a fan of Ahsoka Tano since she debuted in Star Wars: The Clone Wars, but I don’t need to watch that and other Star Wars shows to be invested. I only need to know that she’s looking for someone, and that she’s afraid of a big baddie’s return. This isn’t subtext, it’s surface text. And it keeps me invested.

Being in the moment doesn’t have to stop at franchises. Look at Hayao Miyazaki’s oeuvre. Look at Castle in the Sky, arguably his most-serialized movie to-date in style. The opening doesn’t have a crawl with text, it drops you in the middle of a battle and expects you to fill in the gaps. We also get no names until a few minutes in, such that I completely misread the opening scene the first time. Context isn’t the top priority, engagement is.

I’m not sure how else to explain this: you want context? Go watch something else. You want to be spoon-fed information? Go to Wikipedia. You want to play catch up? By all means, knock yourself out.

But to turn around and criticize franchises like Star Wars or The MCU for not immediately filling you in? That’s a you problem. And while it’s frustrating to hear that, I assure you that your brain’s capable of piecing together the context. I trust you. But if not, perhaps franchises aren’t for you?

A thought.

Analyzing Martin Scorsese...Again

Approximately four years ago, I shared my thoughts on Martin Scorsese and MCU films. Since time’s a flat circle, I’m doing it again! *Sigh*

GQ wrote a feature recently on Scorsese and his experiences directing. There’s plenty of wisdom present, even if it’s disjointed, but that’s not relevant right now. There are two quotes that were taken out of context by Variety to stir up needless debate. The internet took the bait, with people embodying the film-equivalent of the Spider-Man pointing meme. You know, the one that’s been parodied in several Spider-Man movies?

I hate this conversation. I hate how overblown it’s gotten, and I hate how it’s encouraged more bad-faith statements than the Rotten Tomatoes controversy. Most-importantly, I hate how tiring it is. We’re currently at the tail-end of a joint-writers’ and actors’ strike. That’s less-important than what a famous director thinks? Seriously!

I should backtrack and explain what bugs me about Variety’s repackaging. First and foremost, there’s this bit:

“…[W]e have to then fight back stronger. And it’s got to come from the grassroots level. It’s gotta come from the filmmakers themselves. And you’ll have, you know, the Safdie brothers, and you’ll have Chris Nolan, you know what I mean? And hit ’em from all sides. Hit ’em from all sides, and don’t give up. Let’s see what you got. Go out there and do it. Go reinvent. Don’t complain about it. But it’s true, because we’ve got to save cinema.”

I’m going to be completely honest: I have no idea what Scorsese’s talking about. Ignoring how I should be allowed to criticize directors, even Martin Scorsese, this paragraph leaves plenty of room to challenge him. For example, what makes The Safdies more credible than James Gunn? Is it because they’ve mastered drama? Is it because they get you to care about their characters? Because if it’s both, I’ve got news about the Guardians of the Galaxy films…

Then there’s Christopher Nolan. I love his take on Batman, even considering The Dark Knight one of my favourite movies, but Nolan’s a product of the studio system. He has a unique voice, but he’s no different than the dozens of action directors. He participated in the superhero craze three times, each time helping shape Hollywood’s current landscape. He’s as guilty of “ruining cinema” as anyone else.

There’s also this idea that action films lack an identity. That isn’t true, even for The MCU. There’s some “uniformity” to them, but the films aren’t rigid. I can easily distinguish the Ant-Man movies from the Iron Man films, and I’m not trained in film analysis! Saying that corporately-driven media can’t have a unique footprint is an insult to the voices responsible for its creation. That’s one of the reasons the strikes happened!

The cherry on the cake is saying “We’ve got to save cinema!”, like it’s the masses’ responsibility. That fault lies on the studios. Ever since the Star Wars franchise debuted, and especially following the failure of Heaven’s Gate, studios have been playing it safe and sticking to tried and true trends. In the 21st Century, that happens to be long-running blockbuster franchises, extensions of pulp serials from the 1920’s and 30’s. Factor in that movie tickets are pricey, and that modern theatre experiences suck, and it’s no wonder the average person only sees tentpole films.

Why’s this getting lost in the shuffle? Remember how International Cinema Day had movie ticket costs halved? Remember how box-office revenue that day was amazing? Remember how no one learned the right lessons? It’s not my responsibility to “save cinema”, it’s the responsibility of executives to gamble on new voices.

Of course, saying this publicly is like yelling at wet paint to dry faster. Nuance is frequently drowned out in favour of yelling and name-calling. That’s not only not healthy, it doesn’t fix anything. And for sure it doesn’t address the issue, something Scorsese hasn’t fully-addressed either. But no one will pay attention, so who am I kidding?

Okay, I don’t agree with Scorsese on saving cinema. But he’s entitled to his opinion. What does bother me, however, is a statement he mentions about franchises:

“It’s almost like AI making a film. And that doesn’t mean that you don’t have incredible directors and special effects people doing beautiful artwork. But what does it mean? What do these films, what will it give you? Aside from a kind of consummation of something and then eliminating it from your mind, your whole body, you know? So what is it giving you?”

Did he have to do filmmaking dirty like that?! Martin Scorsese calling modern action movies “not cinema” isn’t new, but comparing the craftwork of artists to AI is an insult. VFX, like scripting and acting, is an art-form filled with artists. They might be overworked and underpaid, hence why Marvel’s VFX teams recently unionized, but they’re not robots. There’s a certain craft and care that goes into making each composition, and Scorsese’s doing it a disservice here. Especially since The Irishman used similar technology for its de-aging effects, all to varied results.

I wouldn’t be bothered if film nerds and Marvel detractors didn’t use this as an excuse to be ignorant. Having a film degree doesn’t make you an “authority” on MCU productions. And the insistence that “woke-ness”, whatever that means, has “killed Disney-adjacent productions” isn’t true. Never mind that the box-offices, and the critical reception, of many of these “woke” productions were good-to-excellent. That’d be too easy!

Maybe this is a losing battle. Maybe I’m shouting into a void, hoping that someone will hear me. I don’t know. Nevertheless, the average person isn’t as invested in Hollywood drama as movie nerds. In a world that grinds people down for profit, movies are a brief escape from that. If the average person sees an MCU or blockbuster venture and isn’t bothered that it’s “not cinema”, whatever that means, then it’s time to let it go. Your sanity will thank you!

Also, Martin Scorsese’s oeuvre, save for Hugo, has yet to really wow me. But that’s something I’ve already discussed, so I won’t rehash my thoughts.

F-Zero's 99th Cacophony

I’ve never been big on the F-Zero franchise. It’s well-made, but the difficulty spikes are a turn-off because I’m not a fan of overly-hard games. This is especially true of F-Zero GX, which I only played for a few minutes before crashing and giving up. It’s unfortunate because the videos I’ve seen make these games look like fun! Doubly-so when factoring in the franchise’s arcade-style mechanics.

It's worth writing about this now, despite having tried before on several occasions, because a new entry was recently released on the Switch. Known as F-Zero 99, because it allows up to 99 racers, it was a free download for Nintendo Switch Online users. I’ve been one for years, so I decided to try it out. And while the game’s punishing at times, I’m surprised by how much I’ve been enjoying it. This might even be my favourite F-Zero title, though that’s not saying much…

What makes F-Zero 99 click? I think it has to do with how user-friendly it is. The game’s challenging, but not unforgiving. Even the tutorials, which themselves are difficult, have enough leeway to learn the basic mechanics while also getting crushed repeatedly. For a game with a chaotic gimmick, it’s surprisingly intuitive to understand.

Make no mistake: F-Zero 99 is chaos! Between difficult race tracks to navigate around, even at their most-simplistic, and avoiding 98 other racers, this game pulls no punches. Whether it’s trying to KO your opponents, or not depleting your energy reserves, each race becomes a game of carnage as you try surviving. I can’t recall how many times I’ve lost a race because I was over-ambitious. As someone with OCD, the balance between having a good ranking and not wiping out is tricky.

That’s also something that makes this entry unique. While you’re encouraged to bump into other racers, you can’t be reckless. This isn’t Twisted Metal, where destroying your opponents is the name of the game, nor is it realistic like Gran Turismo. You don’t even get to use items like in the Mario Kart franchise, though that’d be perfect here. This game’s more chaotic-neutral on The Alignment System, in that your goal’s to survive, but not without some carnage. I appreciate that.

There’s also the factor of maintaining a certain spot in the queue, made harder by it decreasing each time you complete a lap around the track. This not only adds strategy, it makes you feel fear and excitement each time you bump into something. I’d frequently make up lost time, come close to reclaiming my spot in the queue and tap out because I missed the cut-off. Fortunately, I can return as a bumper car and cause chaos for other drivers! That’s always fun, as, like becoming a bomb in Battle Mode of Mario Kart 64, it provides a sense of payback.

Another detail that works in my favour is jumping above other racers and onto a special track. It’s limited and doesn’t guarantee you’ll pull ahead, but if you collect enough orbs during a race you can access a “shortcut”. I always look forward to this because it saves me dealing with other racers. Sharp turns are also a pain to deal with, so it’s a nice change of pace. Being streamlined certainly helps too.

Really and truly, the key strength of F-Zero 99 is how hectic it is. Between veering around other racers, praying you don’t crash, or feeling and seeing the layouts of each course, the experience feels like a cacophony of nonsense. It has its limitations, though: it’s designed the mimic The SNES’s Mode 7 chip, meaning flat terrains with the illusion of 3D movement. This’d be fine in the 90’s, when technology was limited, but it’s now 2023. Even with the advances in technology this is limited, and it'd have been nice to have more of the Switch’s capabilities utilized. But there’s little I can do.

I also think that having to be constantly online drags down the experience. What if you need to pause a race? And what if your internet connection drops out? In both cases, you’d be in trouble, as they’d qualify as a forfeit. Even during training you can’t pause or dip out of your connection! What gives, huh?!

The joys of being free…

Ultimately, this is nothing more than a fun game. Is it an instant classic? That remains to be seen, though it has the addictive feel of one. And I’m constantly tempted to return to it, surprising considering its difficulty. So while I can think of better arcade-style racing titles from Nintendo, like Excitebots: Trick Racing, that I’d instantly suggest without thinking, I’d still recommend this one. It’s good for F-Zero veterans, retaining much of the heart and soul that made the franchise so beloved, but also for newcomers or casual fans (like myself) who might feel turned off by the difficulty. So congratulations, Nintendo: you got me to care about an F-Zero game.

Howl's Moving Reflections

Every-so-often, I go on a Studio Ghibli binge. Recently, it’s to prepare for The Boy and the Heron. It’s been fun watching these movies again, but as with every binge, it’s inevitable that I’ll get to Howl’s Moving Castle. While I’ve always enjoyed the movie, I have…mixed feelings too. So much so that I wrote an analysis in 2015 for Infinite Rainy Day. Since it’s been almost 8 years, I figured I’d revisit what I had to say.

I won’t dissect everything I wrote. The piece is already really long, and that’d be unnecessary. Instead, I’m selecting a handful of thoughts to see if they hold up. Reminder that I was writing for a different audience, and that I’ve matured quite a bit since then. If anything sounds weird or dated, that’s why. Don’t hold it against me either.

Oh, and this was one of my earliest “Does it hold up?” pieces.

“Perhaps Howl’s Moving Castle’s greatest strengths can be summed up in two words: ‘aesthetics’ and ‘characters’…”

As is expected, I started out with the positives. Not only to be “fair”, but also to be balanced. I did that for all of these pieces on Infinite Rainy Day, as well as for The Matrix, WALL-E and Batman Begins on here. It’s the most-consistent aspect of this series, save me using headings. But I digress.

Reading this sentence, however, strikes me as pretentious retroactively. Not because it’s badly-written, but because it reads like I’m grading it. The reason why I abandoned “Does it hold up?” is because discussing works of art, which movies are, this way is unfair; after all, movies age, and your perceptions of them also change. Howl’s Moving Castle’s a flawed film, but judging it in an academic manner makes me cringe now. Especially when many film enthusiasts think they know everything about movies because they have degrees.

The movie definitely looks gorgeous. That I can’t deny.

“I love the soundtrack. It’s Joe Hisaishi, meaning that you’d expect top-notch work anyway, but he doesn’t disappoint with his scorings here…”

Firstly, 25 year-old me, “soundtrack” and “score” aren’t synonymous. Soundtracks are songs with lyrics, while scores are melodic arrangements. Schindler’s List, my favourite biopic, has a score, but it also has songs that’d qualify as a soundtrack. The most famous is “Oyfn Pripetchik” that’s sung as Schindler watches the girl in the red coat stroll through the ghetto, though there are others. Even with Joe Hisaishi, Merry-Go-Round of Life, Howl’s Moving Castle’s running motif, is a score, while “Promise of the World” is an original song. It’s confusing, as both fall under the blanket term “OST”, but there’s a difference.

Speaking of, if I were to re-write this, I’d probably include something about how Joe Hisaishi’s the Japanese John Williams, and that he partners with Hayao Miyazaki like Williams does with Steven Spielberg. That doesn’t come across in the original piece, which makes sense because I was writing it for a different crowd. Regardless, Hisaishi’s a master of his craft, and Merry-Go-Round of Life is arguably my favourite piece from him. That doesn’t mean there aren’t other tracks in the movie, contrary to what I claimed, but I maintain that I’d dance with my wife to it at our wedding. (Assuming I get married, that is!) It’s that good.

“By the way, kudos on the dub! Howl’s Moving Castle has, arguably, Disney’s best Studio Ghibli dub, although why Christian Bale went for an American accent instead of his native Welsh is really bizarre.”

You’ll notice I skipped the character section. That’s because the characters were never an issue for me, though Howl has inconsistent writing in the middle of the movie. However, the dub…I’m not sure I’d call it Disney’s best anymore. It’s excellent, but the accents throw me off. Ignoring Christian Bale’s attempt at an American accent, which is noticeable when he’s not trying out his Batman growl, I’m not why only Sophie and her sister Lettie are British. Remember, Jean Simmons was from Hollywood’s Golden Age! Couldn’t she have thrown her accent to fit with everyone else? Same goes for Emily Mortimer, who’s used other accents before!

It wouldn’t bother me if Sophie and Lettie weren’t the only ones with accents, but they are. Even their mother, voiced by Marie Devon, sounds American! As does Howl…kind of. Perhaps Disney forgot to make the accents consistent? Why not give everyone a British accent? Or perhaps that’s too difficult? I could ruminate all day about how Sophie and Lettie’s accents stick out more than Howl’s, but it’s too late to fix that…

“…I’ll admit that Miyazaki’s not known for his excellent scripting, since he tends to let his storyboards do the talking for themselves, but even his most bizarre films have an overlapping focus. This movie? Not really.”

And here’s where I share most of my issues with the movie. Two points: one, Hayao Miyazaki generally skips the screenwriting process when making movies, instead letting the storyboards do the heavy lifting. There are several reasons why he does this, but the main one’s that he doesn’t feel like screenplays mesh with his style. It’s highly-unconventional, but Miyazaki prefers that his movies evolve naturally. Speaking as someone who likes to wing his writing, I can relate.

Two, Howl’s Moving Castle isn’t nearly as bizarre as some claim. Sure, it’s weird, but as far as flat-out bizarre goes, Spirited Away takes the cake. Which makes sense, since it’s grounded in childlike logic. The levels of nightmare fuel and acid-trip moments present in Howl’s Moving Castle pale in comparison, even if there’s less internal logic. But that’s not what bothers me.

What bothers me is how aimless many of the plot threads are. Miyazaki’s storyboarding-first method leaves plenty of internal logic to be desired, but he usually makes it work. Howl’s Moving Castle, however, remains the outlier, as its loose storytelling is its greatest pitfall. I get that this was deliberate, as this is Miyazaki’s commentary on The US’s invasion of Iraq, but that nothing coalesces is a problem. It’s not like Miyazaki hasn’t tackled war before and made it coherent!

“…In my retrospective on ScrewAttack, I mentioned that the problem with summarizing this movie is that you’re left with too many questions…”

I still agree with this, even though my content on ScrewAttack no longer exists. However, I’ve warmed to some of the questions that I had in 2015. The biggest one, “Why was Sophie cursed?”, boils down to, in my mind, The Witch of the Waste revealing how Sophie felt internally. Sophie lacks self-confidence. She doesn’t view herself as attractive, hence the curse brings out her…I won’t say “ugliness”, but rather her internal views. And the movie shows this metaphor with her de-aging whenever she gains confidence, and aging-up whenever her confidence diminishes.

Unfortunately, it’s inconsistent. It might also be too subtle, so most people wouldn’t catch it anyway. Miyazaki revels in subtle gimmicks, but it doesn’t always work. With this movie, the inconsistency of the curse definitely does that subtlety no favours when Sophie stops caring halfway through. After all, if the movie doesn’t care, why should you?

“…The movie rams down your throat that ‘WAR IS BAD, WAR IS SUFFERING, END THIS WAR NOW!’ so often that it stops being subtext and becomes actual text when the characters start talking about it. And it’s infuriating…”

Perhaps the only “non-subtle” aspect of this movie is its anti-war messaging. Like I said, Hayao Miyazaki was mad about the invasion of Iraq, and it shows. But while the destruction and chaos are effective pieces of storytelling, the aimlessness…isn’t. The movie clearly has a point about war, but it’s told so sloppily that it’s frustrating. Even after having seen the movie many times, I still don’t get many of the details:

Who started the war?

Was diplomacy tried first?

At any point during the war, did someone on either side try mediation?

What was Madame Suliman’s ultimate goal, other than using her students as pawns?

Why did Howl care as strongly as he did?

Why did Howl keep intervening, especially if it caused him pain?

And why did Madame Suliman end the war so abruptly?

Some of these questions are self-explanatory. Remember, The US’s withdrawal from Afghanistan after 20 years was also abrupt! But while these shouldn’t be deal-breakers, and they aren’t, the ability to easily poke holes in a narrative like this is a problem. Hayao Miyazaki likes unanswered questions, and cryptic logic, but he’s never been a half-baked storyteller…until here. He has many thoughts on war, some justified, but Howl’s Moving Castle feels like a juvenile attempt at discussing them. It doesn’t feel sincere.

“…[W]hile Miyazaki’s known for taking his time, here the detours pad out a movie that’s already overly-long, has too much jammed into it and still feels like it needs to be longer, for some reason.”

In my review for ScrewAttack, I mentioned that this is a nearly 2-hour experience with 90-minutes of content that feels like it should be over 3-hours. I don’t think that anymore, not after sitting through The Wind Rises. (And I like that movie!) But while that’s the case now, it doesn’t mean Howl’s Moving Castle doesn’t lack focus. Because it does. Perhaps with some refining of its themes and fixing its loose threads, this could’ve been masterpiece. As it stands, it's merely a good time.

I’d mention some of the other points I included, like how being “bizarre” is a terrible justification for bad writing, but that’s subjective. It also feels like shameless whining on my part. However, there’s one word I left out that was present in my ScrewAttack piece, and I’m unsure why I neglected it: gonzo. Howl’s Moving Castle is a gonzo story, as it jumps everywhere and lacks focus. It’s not a word I use often, but it’s true. Make of that what you will.

Ultimately, my Infinite Rainy Day piece is an interesting time capsule. It’s long-winded, overly-ranty and incredibly-cynical, but it encapsulates many of my thoughts and feelings about the movie even now. I don’t think I’d be as harsh if I were to rewrite it, but I also wouldn’t discount the original post altogether. That wouldn’t be honest or fair.

Then again, at least it’s not Tales From Earthsea…

A Rancid Slop

I really don’t like revisiting topics. I’ve done it before, true, but it always feels redundant. Nevertheless, sometimes it’s necessary. This is one such instance. Let’s discuss Rotten Tomatoes…again.

It was revealed by Vulture that a PR firm was manipulating reviews on Rotten Tomatoes for the last 5 or so years. Ignoring how shady that is, it raises questions about the site’s integrity. Or it would…had the way the article was promoted not been misleading. To quote it directly:

“But just because the ‘Tomatometer’ says a title is ‘rotten’ — scoring below 60 percent — it doesn’t need to stay that way. Bunker 15 went to work. While most film-PR companies aim to get the attention of critics from top publications, Bunker 15 takes a more bottom-up approach, recruiting obscure, often self-published critics who are nevertheless part of the pool tracked by Rotten Tomatoes. In another break from standard practice, several critics say, Bunker 15 pays them $50 or more for each review. (These payments are not typically disclosed, and Rotten Tomatoes says it prohibits ‘reviewing based on a financial incentive.’)”

This sounds damning initially, but Vulture doesn’t single out all movies. Rather, it’s singling out Bunker 15 and their attempts to bribe reviewers for “more favourable reviews”. It’s not a statement against the reviewing process, though Vulture has plenty to say there too. Either way, this is bad optics really only for Bunker 15. Let’s be clear here.

I’d like to get some misconceptions about Rotten Tomatoes cleared up. Firstly, it’s not a review site. Like Metacritic, Rotten Tomatoes is an aggregate site. It grabs reviewers that are verified, surveys their reviews and compiles them. It’s the messenger. And remember, don’t shoot the messenger.

Secondly, its system, while incredibly-flawed, is really transparent. Unlike Metacritic, where you can’t access its grading formula all that easily without mathematics, Rotten Tomatoes’ mission statement’s available for everyone. This extends to how it aggregates movies and shows, as well as how to apply. If you’re ever skeptical about a score, you can always click on the aggregate for a breakdown and average score out of 10. If you want proof, read it for yourself.

Thirdly, Rotten Tomatoes has different standards for different movies. Big-budget releases need at least 80 reviews, including 40 “Top Critics”, to assign “Certified Fresh”, “Fresh” or “Rotten” aggregates, complete with a consensus. For independent releases, the reviews go down to 40, including 10 “Top Critics”. It seems “skewed”, and perhaps it is, but since smaller releases aren’t seen by as many people, I think this is somewhat equitable. If you don’t believe me, the site has User Reviews.

And fourthly, all of the reviews are available to read below the aggregates. This is where people tend to miss the boat. If you disagree with an aggregate, you can see its breakdown. And if you’re curious to learn more about a reviewer’s opinion, the link to their work’s right there. I’m not sure what else to tell you.

I use Rotten Tomatoes regularly. I’m on a minimum wage salary, and I can only consume so much art. The Tomatometer helps me see what could potentially be of interest. It doesn’t mean that I agree, I often don’t, but I at least try to understand where the aggregates come from. If something has a 92% versus a 93%, it doesn’t matter that much. But if it has a 56% versus a 92%, then that’s an indication something’s up. That’s where deductive reasoning comes in.

I used to think Rotten Tomatoes was garbage. I remember going there and guessing how “wrong” a Tomatometer was for something I liked. But that was over a decade ago. These days, whenever I see an aggregate I disagree with, I try to think about what the reviewers were going for. It’s healthier that way.

Does that mean Rotten Tomatoes doesn’t have problems? Of course not! Aside from its borderline Fresh/Rotten grading needing work, there are times when a review doesn’t match the site’s standards for “Fresh”. I also find that Rotten Tomatoes routinely falls prey to becoming its own cheerleader. That, and studios routinely exploit the site for PR, as evidenced by Bunker 15.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t serve a purpose, as I stated earlier. Nor does it equate to a “reviewer conspiracy”, as that’s not possible given human nature. Rotten Tomatoes has hundreds of reviewers from all over the world, and many don’t even know one-another. Of those who do, they’re not monolithic. Some probably don’t even like each other, while others review in bad-faith. It’d be too hard to coordinate a review conspiracy.

I think several voices on the internet need to humble themselves here. Zack Snyder fans need to stop assuming that everyone who didn’t like his films are acting in bad-faith. People who despise Disney need to stop claiming that Disney “bribes reviewers” to praise their “woke trash”. And film snobs need to not believe that reviewers are “too kind” to populist entertainment. Bunker 15 did something wrong, and those reviewers who accepted bribes need reprimanding, but this scandal’s being overblown.

You don’t have to “like” Rotten Tomatoes, or even agree with their system. I don’t always agree with them myself! I thought reviewers were unfair to The Star Wars Prequels, and I didn’t think Mad Max: Fury Road was anything special. No one’s stopping you from agreeing/disagreeing with an aggregate, nor are they stopping you from expressing that disagreement. After all, that’s what makes film special!

What Bunker 15 did is wrong, and they need to be held accountable. I also think everyone should take Rotten Tomatoes with a grain of salt, not view them as something that can’t be challenged. The site does update every-so-often, and this includes adding reviews occasionally. Regarding it as the “Golden Standard”, especially when that dismisses the reviewers who comprise its makeup, is like attributing the success of a movie or show to a studio, instead of the thousands of individuals who make it run smoothly. Besides, isn’t that why there’s a strike?

Some Cardiac Trauma

One of the many strengths of art, film particularly, is resonating with people in different ways. This is especially true as we enter new stages in our lives, as something that might’ve been light fun at one point can suddenly be more powerful after a life-changing event. I’m no different there. And in light of a video Chris Stuckmann recently made, I’m writing about movies that’ve hit me personally ever since my dad’s heart attack. Be prepared for mild spoilers:

My Neighbor Totoro’s a great movie. It’s not my favourite from Hayao Miyazaki, it doesn’t even speak to me like Kiki’s Delivery Service or Whisper of the Heart as far as Studio Ghibli’s pantheon goes, but what it lacks in narrative it compensates for thematically. In particular, it weaves the innocence of youth with the fragility of life, particularly with Satsuki and Mei’s mother being terminally-ill. But while that remains in the background the majority of the film, it’s in the last 25 minutes where it starts getting heavy. In particular, it has our heroines believe their mother might die.

I remember being caught off-guard when I first saw this in 2010. But it’s only in recent years that it fully sank in. The Kusakabe matriarch’s situation was different from my dad’s, but the underlying feeling was identical: like Satsuki, I felt that this might be the end. And like Mei, I was hoping deep-down that I could fix it. I was wrong on both accounts.

It's worth noting that the dilemma kicks into gear because Mei thinks the ear of corn she has will make her mom better. It’s an accurate, 4 year-old assumption to make, one I’d expect from someone like her. Even outside of Satsuki’s emotional breakdown, which is heartbreaking, that food is the catalyst for Mei’s disappearance reminds me of how I was unable to eat from my fridge when my dad was sick. I actually lost weight during those 6 weeks! And everything ended up resolving itself in the movie, much like reality, but that was a close one!

When I went into Bumblebee, I was unsure what to expect. The movie, unlike the Michael Bay entries, was good, but I didn’t anticipate being hit with an emotional gut-punch. The movie’s mostly cutesy ala The Iron Giant, but by the third-act it becomes serious. In particular, Charlie helplessly watching Bumblebee be blasted by Dropkick and having to keep her mouth shut really hit the hardest. Especially since we never saw Charlie’s dad die, and we’re left to assume that Bumblebee’s death was comparable.

I wasn’t actually present to witness my dad’s heart attack. And unlike Charlie, it wasn’t until a few days later, when I saw my dad covered in wires and plugs, that the full-extent of the situation kicked in. I’d even prepared a whole speech, only for my mind to go blank in that moment. But it was painful nonetheless. I might not have had access to the equipment Charlie used on Bumblebee, but, in a weird way, it wasn’t unlike the AED used by the paramedics to restart my dad’s heart. Even now I can’t think about it without gritting my teeth.

Many of you haven’t heard of A Letter to Momo. It follows 12 year-old Momo and her mom as they head to the countryside in Japan to treat her mother’s asthma. Once there, Momo encounters three yōkai who were sent to look out for her and her mom. Unfortunately, they’re are terrible at their job, getting Momo into heaps of trouble constantly. But it’s the film’s climax where everything comes together emotionally.

Momo’s mother’s asthma comes back in full-force during a torrential storm. Since the nearest hospital that has medication can’t be accessed, Momo panics; after all, her last conversation with her mom, like her dad, involved her getting mad and saying something hurtful. And since her dad’s boat capsized, Momo’s worried that tragedy will strike twice. It’s an intense situation for any child, whether they be 12 like Momo or, at the time, 24 like me.

But I think Momo’s final conversation with her dad really hits home. Many people don’t know that the night before my dad’s heart attack, the two of us got into an argument and went to bed unhappy. So when I received the news of my dad’s heart attack, a part of me felt guilty. Was God punishing me? I wasn’t sure.

I recently had the privilege of seeing Blue Beetle. I enjoyed it a lot, even considering it to be underrated. However, I didn’t expect a movie that bizarre to hit me with a gut-punch. Yet it did, and it all focused around the protagonist’s dad. I should’ve picked up the hints…

The moment that hurt was when Jaime’s family’s confronted by soldiers and held at gunpoint. Jaime fights most of them off, but his sister and father are knocked over by a soldier’s blast. His father then immediately goes into cardiac arrest. This brief moment leaves Jaime vulnerable enough to be captured, forcing him to watch in horror while being hauled away. His dad’s heart flatlines in the ambulance.

Of all the scenes I’ve mentioned thus far, this one’s the most intense. Not only do we witness the heart attack, we also see him die. And like Jaime, we’re not given a chance to mourn his death. Like I said earlier, I didn’t get to process what’d happened to my dad until days after his cardiac episode. This was because it happened not only in the afternoon, but also leading up to the holiday of Shavuot. My family had to shuffle our plans, changing them three times in two hours. Like Jaime in Blue Beetle, I felt helpless. Except that unlike Jaime, my dad’s situation eventually had a happy ending.

I’ll end off with Summer Wars. Summer Wars is my least-favourite of Mamoru Hosoda’s films, though I won’t rehash why. Instead, I’d like to discuss what happens halfway. Kenji’s woken up in the middle of the night to people running to the Jinnouchi matriarch’s bedroom. Granny had had a heart attack in her sleep, and her family’s trying, in vain, to revive her. The family doctor then explains that Granny had angina, and that her heart monitor hadn’t responded because OZ had been hacked, so it’s hard not to feel as helpless as everyone else.

It's especially tough, looking back, because I didn’t know what angina was until I took a first aid course last Spring. Now that I understand its seriousness, I can correlate it to my dad, who I’m positive had been suffering from it a few days prior to his heart attack. He thought it was bad back pain initially, but it couldn’t have been an accident. It was his early warning sign, and I now can’t watch Summer Wars without getting uneasy over Granny talking with Natsuki about “Summer heat” early on. If only I’d known…

And there you go: moments in movies that resonate with me after my dad’s heart attack. I guess it can’t be helped, right?