Relaxing at the Resort

Pokémon Concierge is unusual by franchise standards. Not only is it low-stakes, it’s a 4-episode, stop-motion animation venture. Considering how tedious and time-consuming stop-motion is, as well as how hit-or-miss it is with audiences, this miniseries was, inevitably, going to be niche. What I didn’t expect was how cute and relaxing it’d be. It might be one of my favourite pieces of media from 2023.

The premise is simple: Haru, an overly-stressed businesswoman, is recruited to work at an elusive resort. Said resort’s a known vacation spot for tamed and wild Pokémon, and she’s been tasked with being a concierge. Initially unsure of what to expect, Haru quickly realizes the calming nature of this resort. Was she sent there to learn how to relax? Haru’s not sure, but she goes with the flow anyway.

Pokémon’s a franchise I have a love-hate relationship with. Unlike Digimon, which I adore for its coolness, the franchise has frustrated me nearly as regularly as it’s endeared. This is especially true of TV and film, two mediums it rarely translates to effectively. Add in the rollercoaster of quality the spin-offs have been, as well as my own mindset shifting frequently, and I wasn’t sure I’d end up liking this show.

That was…until I sat down and watched it. It wasn’t long, the four episodes combined are a little over an hour, but like Haru, I learned to go with the flow. Pokémon Concierge might be low-stakes, but it’s also relaxing. It’s this franchise’s answer to Kiki’s Delivery Service or My Neighbor Totoro, except without the dramatic finales. I respect that.

Perhaps the show’s biggest strength is the titular heroine. Haru’s an anxious worrywart, like myself. She overthinks everything, always concerned she’ll disappoint everyone. As someone with anxiety and Tourette’s Syndrome, I can relate. And like Haru, I find I can relax in the right circumstances. This is something Pokémon Concierge drives home, but I appreciate that it’s not preachy. I can’t be told to relax, it has to happen naturally.

It helps that the show is cute and chill. Pokémon has always been vibe-heavy even during its intense moments, and this is the epitome of that. The character designs are as simple as they are endearing, evoking a Robot Chicken sketch if they were better-animated, less cynical and non-violent. At the same time, the world doesn’t feel alien from the main Pokémon universe. That’s hard to pull off successfully.

But it does. And bless it for that! Despite starting with Haru being overly-stressed, highlighting her crappy week via an inner-monologue, the show slows down as she learns to get her bearings. Her inner-narrations lessen overtime, such that she no longer needs them by Episode 4. That’s this show’s biggest secret.

It helps that Haru’s English VA, Karen Fukuhara, naturally nails that vibe with little effort, even if I can’t help thinking of Glimmer from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power whenever she speaks. The side-characters are well-voiced too, with Josh Keaton in an unrecognizable role. But Fukuhara’s the real standout. And while the syncing isn’t 100% accurate, thanks to the lip-flaps being realistically-animated, after a while you stop caring. I like that.

The real strength of Pokémon Concierge is its production value. Pokémon’s animated shows often suffer from budget limitations, but this miniseries has both Netflix money and the advantage of being a co-production with an American studio. You see that in the end credits, true, but also in the designs. The movement of the characters, even the Pokémon, is seamless and top-notch, making the show feel lived-in. Even little imperfections, like Haru’s fingertips being red, add to the realism, showing how much effort went into making it tangible. That’s something a traditional, Japanese anime budget wouldn’t allow.

In the end, what makes Pokémon Concierge work is how relaxed it is. You really become immersed, appreciating how immediate the stakes are to the characters. You feel for whether or not Haru will fit in, or if she’ll bond with a Pokémon. Even by show’s end, when Haru’s learned to pay it forward, you’re wrapped up in the low-tension. It’s this kind of writing that many Western productions frequently bungle, so it’s nice seeing it done well here.

Is Pokémon Concierge perfect? No. Aside from the short length of each episode, the story has a time leap between its third and final episodes. I get why this was done, to show that Haru’s become well-adjusted to her job, but it makes me wish we’d seen more of this piece of the Pokémon universe. It doesn’t help that this was meant to be an isolated miniseries with no continuations, despite cries for more. But if that’s my biggest concern, guess what? It’s done its job.

So yes, please watch Pokémon Concierge. It’s not the longest or best-written Netflix offering, and I’m unsure if the low stakes will resonate with everyone, but you owe it to yourself to try. It’s definitely relaxing at the least, and that needs to account for something!

One Last Scene - Schindler's List and Closure

Whenever Steven Spielberg movies are discussed, Schindler’s List is frequently underplayed. Whether it’s that it’s depressing, or that it’s not as accessible as his other classics, I think it deserves more praise. I say this recognizing that it already has plenty! And with the “One Last Scene” series on YouTube, I figured I’d discuss its final scene. Because there’s plenty to talk about.

Schindler’s List is my favourite biopic. That said, it’s draining to sit through. I’ve only seen it fully three times, and each was more difficult than the last. There are several moments that are masterfully upsetting, but the finale deserves the analysis here. It’s the first time since the opening that the movie’s in full-colour, and it follows the typical formula where expository text catches us up. But that’s not what I’ll focus on…

The scene begins after Oskar Schindler, now a wanted man, flees from the Americans and Soviets. From here, a group of now-survivors encounter a Russian soldier telling them they’re free. One of them asks him where they should go, to which he replies, “Don’t go east, that’s for sure! They hate you there.” From here, we see the survivors walking with “Jerusalem of Gold” being sung in Hebrew. And this is where, following Amon Göth’s hanging, the movie switches to colour and fast-forwards to the present.

I have to pause to discuss the biggest issue I have with this moment: directly linking the end of The Holocaust with the creation of Israel. Spielberg’s often been criticized for having ham-fisted endings to his movies. Jaws, for example, has Brody blow up the shark after a silly one-liner, while Lincoln ends with an angelic eulogy of the late-president. Sometimes his endings work, like in Jurassic Park and The Fabelmans, while other times…not so much. And then there’s Schindler’s List’s heavy-handed insinuation that Israel only exists because of The Holocaust, something that’s nice in theory, but isn’t true historically.

With the movie now in the present, we see many of the Jews Schindler saved with the actors who’d played them walking up to Schindler’s gravestone in Israel. As each one lays a stone, we’re hear Itzhak Perlman’s violin playing a somber rendition of the main theme. We also get some text that sums up who each survivor is. This entire scene’s quite touching. It reminds the audience of the indeterminable Jewish spirit, and how, amidst everything, the Jew has survived. The world has reviled and tormented Jews throughout history, often with violence, but they’ve failed to eradicate them completely. Having Jews survive The Holocaust is proof of that.

But this scene also highlights a trait of the Jew that isn’t acknowledged enough: compassion. In this context specifically, compassion for the “Righteous Gentile”. Righteous Gentiles were relatively few in relation to the population of Europe, and they risked their lives, often unsuccessfully, to save Jews. Oskar Schindler was one of them, saving over 1100 Jews by recruiting them for his ammunitions factory. He started with selfish intentions, but his heart slowly melted as he saw the horrors surrounding him, and that shouldn’t go unnoticed. This scene drives that point home.

Of course, the one person to lay flowers is Oskar Schindler. More-specifically, the actor who plays him, Liam Neeson. As the camera shows Schindler standing over his grave, a feeling of his ghost finding peace lingers. Schindler’s post-war life was miserable: his marriage fell apart, his businesses kept failing and he died a pauper. He even went unnoticed for his contributions for years, until Yad Vashem acknowledged him as a Righteous Gentile in 1958. This procession was closure, finally allowing his life, and the movie, to end on a positive note.

There’s been plenty of debate since its release as to whether or not Schindler’s List is a “white saviour” movie. The argument is that by focusing on Oskar Schindler’s story, the agency of the Jewish survivors is robbed. I disagree. I think enough attention’s dedicated to Schindler’s Jews throughout the film’s runtime, although it’s not hard to see how it’d come across that way. It’s certainly not The Pianist, that’s for sure!

Still, by making this the primary focus of the conversation, much about Schindler’s List gets ignored. Like how personal it was for Spielberg, often draining him of his energy. Or how its Oscars sweep was unprecedented. Or even how it was a Jewish-centric story that focused on a Jewish perspective, which even now is unusual in Hollywood. This is to say nothing of its palate and cinematographic style being rough and washed out to underscore how brutal this piece of history was!

But above all, the ending scene drives home how powerful the experience is. This isn’t one of Steven Spielberg’s flashier productions. It lacks the fantasy of the Indiana Jones films or the whimsy of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. It isn’t rooted in nostalgia like E.T. The Extra Terrestrial, it isn’t grimly-futuristic like Minority Report is, and it isn’t as menacing as Jurassic Park. Even as a biopic, movies like Lincoln and Bridge of Spies are more accessible. Yet despite that, Schindler’s List is no less wondrous. It’s actually amazing, and that one last scene demonstrates why.

Warner Bros. Universal?

In 2017, Disney purchased, and merged with, 20th Century Fox. In the years since, the latter’s been restructured, rebranded and consolidated into Disney’s empire. While a solid move for Disney financially, creatively it’s been mixed. Marvel was now whole, having brought X-Men and Fantastic Four back into their fold, but the lack of healthy competition meant that Disney had less incentive to be kept in-check. This could be seen even within the company, as the merger led to the dissolution of Blue Sky Studios and the near-death of Nimona.

I mention this because a merger of this calibre might be happening again soon. Warner Bros. Discovery, led by CEO David Zaslav, has been struggling financially for years, while Universal has been experiencing tough times too. The companies have been in talks to combine for months, and it looks like a deal could happen within two years. While a big deal, it raises some questions and concerns. Particularly, it raises them in my own mind.

I’m mixed on this deal. Corporate mergers happen all the time, but that doesn’t always mean they’re good. Many mergers have been antitrust nightmares, causing mass-layoffs and forcing out smaller competition. These mergers have also stifled creativity, which is bad for consumers. So while there’s not much I can do, it worries me.

So that I’m not accused of being a complete downer, here are potential benefits to a merger between WB Discovery and Universal Studios:

Let’s start with costs. Both companies are struggling financially. WB Discovery’s been bleeding for a while, having been sold and purchased by various other companies repeatedly. They have mountains of debt, and this merger could levy some of it. In particular, it could give them an out to share the load. In that sense, this is a wise move.

Moving on, having two movie studios combine might allow them to bankroll bigger projects. If you want proof, look at Titanic. That movie was so massive for its time that it required two studios to fund it. It also paid off, with both studios benefitting. I know the movie landscape’s different now than in the 90’s, but this, in principle, could still work the same. Especially when both studios are owned by the same people.

Next, management. David Zaslav’s currently Warner Bros. Discovery’s CEO, while Universal’s run by CEO Bob Bakish. I can’t say much for the latter, but the former’s been heavily criticized for mass deletions and cancellations for tax write-offs. Among these include Batgirl, which, despite early screenings being positive, is now lost media. Assuming the merger goes through, there’s a possibility management could change. And that’d please Zaslav’s detractors.

Finally, there’s streaming. Contrary to initial promises, streaming hasn’t been the cash cow studios hoped. Disney+, for example, has reported massive losses since relinquishing the streaming rights to cricket in India, and they’re not the only ones. Max, Warner Bros. Discovery’s service, has seen many losses resulting from content deletion and poor management, such that they’ve shopped off projects to other platforms. By combining Max and Paramount+, it could allow both services to share streaming losses. Not to mention, it’d give consumers more options on one service.

My problem, however, comes with how this is corporate dilution long-term. Keep in mind the points I mentioned above: corporate restructuring. Corporate rebranding. Lay-offs. Mass-cancellations of projects. Antitrust violations. Factor in stifling creativity in the name of profit, and you have a recipe for more bad than good!

In fact, one need look at Disney’s acquisition of 20th Century Fox. First, they laid off thousands of employees. Next, they cancelled plenty of projects they deemed non-profitable. Then they rebranded 20th Century Fox as 20th Century Studios, making it yet another branch of Disney. To top it all off, any remaining projects, with few exceptions, were given next-to-no promotion, chief among these a Wes Anderson and a Guillermo del Toro movie respectively.

 

I know it’s hard to care about this, especially when corporate politics is complicated and confusing, but none of this is healthy long-term. And yet, the WB Discovery + Universal merger, assuming it happens, could see a repeat of the above. Sure, it wouldn’t be 1:1, no merger ever is, but the baseline problems are worrisome regardless. Never mind that people’s livelihoods are at stake!

Look, I don’t think the Disney + Fox merger was 100% bad. Ignoring the influx of Fox’s backlog to Disney+, I’ve enjoyed a lot of the Star Wars content that’s come out. I’m also excited for The X-Men to debut in The MCU, even if the franchise has been struggling qualitatively recently. But while I have personal reasons for liking that merger, they’re also selfish. On a strictly-creative level, the merger wasn’t great.

And there’s no reason to believe WB Discovery merging with Universal, even if it makes sense, won’t be a repeat of that. Especially given how creatively-choked the movie industry is. I know it’s fun to mock the X-Men IP under Fox, but they gave us Logan. That’s the kind of ambitious storytelling we’d never get under Disney. It’s not within their creative wheelhouse.

Ultimately, this reinforces how Hollywood needs to change. If the pandemic and strikes were indicative, the current model’s not working anymore. It’s hurting even the big players, which is why mergers like these are happening. If we want better, healthier and more-creative storytelling, then something’s got to give. Unfortunately, I don’t know how, or when, that’ll happen.

Celebrating Life Day

Despite me not celebrating Christmas, the holiday season always puts me into a festive mood. Perhaps it’s because December’s cold and unforgiving, or the inundation of Christmas/Christmas-adjacent media, I’m unsure. Either way, it lifts my spirits, enough to forgive how manipulative and isolating it can feel sometimes. And then there’s the trashy content. I’m not even referring to The Hallmark Channel…

It's not surprising that Star Wars had cashed in. It’s been around for nearly 50 years, being ingrained in pop culture like an ear-worm. What’s surprising, however, is how it’s a product of shame. George Lucas has disowned it, while Harrison Ford, Mark Hamill and the late-Carrie Fisher view it as a blight on their careers. What’s even more surprising than that is its relative obscurity. The Star Wars Holiday Special isn’t only an embarrassment, it’s hard to find! It’s only through the internet that you can access it, albeit in poor quality.

Naturally, I decided to see it for myself.

I’ll spare you a full-on synopsis. All that’s worth noting is that it centres around a Wookie holiday called Life Day, and that Chewbacca’s family spends most of it waiting anxiously for him to arrive. Aside from subplots that waste time, it’s a story about three Wookies waiting for their family member in a mundane and unimaginative way. Even the franchise’s science-fantasy components, which were in their infancy in 1978, aren’t utilized efficiently, instead either feeling like fever dreams, or uncomfortable Saturday Night Live sketches.

I’m not kidding about that. In one section, the mama Wookie watches a man in drag and bad makeup make “Bantha stew” in a sexualized manner. Another has the grandpa Wookie experience a VR session with a singer hitting on him. It sounds bizarre typing these sentences, but that fits the special’s vibe: bizarre. Or, at least, it’s bizarre when it’s not boring.

Unfortunately, most of it is. It doesn’t help that the Wookies are the stars, as their dialect’s incomprehensible without a translator. You can gleam some context from their body language, but it’s not enough. Then again, having someone constantly interpret their words would be cumbersome. It’s a lose-lose situation.

Perhaps the only part that really, truly feels interesting occurs in the third-act, when Imperials crash the home under suspicion of Rebel spies hiding there. This is the special’s high-point, adding suspense and tension to something otherwise dull. But even then there are cutaways to less-interesting side-plots. And the tension’s diffused too quickly once Han Solo and Chewbacca arrive. It’s a shame because the special would’ve been infinitely better had it focused on the Imperials interrogating the Wookies…

Then there are the musical numbers that break up the pacing. The best one involves an elderly, female cantina owner singing to her customers about leaving before curfew, but that’s saying little. All of the songs are silly and lame, complete with rhyme schemes that drag on too long. Even the last song, sung by Princess Leia, is so laughably-bad that it’s become an internet meme. If you don’t believe me, have a listen.

The special ends with a clip show of everything Star Wars to that point. Which is another way of saying only the 1977 classic. But it doesn’t evoke the Star Wars nostalgia it intends, as that’d be too interesting! Instead it makes me wish I was watching that movie, something made more difficult by all the tinkering George Lucas has done in the intervening decades. I’m not sure if that’s supposed to insult me more, or less. I’m still debating that.

That’s The Star Wars Holiday Special in a nutshell: insulting. Yes, it gave us Boba Fett, a character who wasn’t interesting until decades later. True, many of the special effects are impressive, utilizing a mixture of rotoscoping, miniatures, matte paintings and blue screen, to name a few. No, I also wouldn’t consider this the worst special ever. But it’s not good. And given how much the franchise has endured since, it’s no exaggeration to call it one of its worst offerings.

I feel bad trashing this. It’s 45 years-old, and it’s had its share of detractors and jokes. Its talent disowning it, like I said earlier, speaks volumes, as does its obscurity! But it’s no less true. The special feels corporate, enough that, had it been made now, it’d be easily confused as AI-written for the uninitiated. It also lacks a beating heart, coming off as every stereotypical adjective for a holiday special. This isn’t even mentioning that several writers penned it, all of whom I’m sure are embarrassed now!

Yet I can’t blame anyone. For all the criticism to lob its way, it was made as a favour to Lucas’s merchandising department during the three-year gap between the original film and its sequel. Considering how the franchise was a surprise hit, it made sense to capitalize on that. That it was familiar was an added bonus. And that it tied into the holiday season was a way to get its audience in the right mood.

Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean I can’t mock it. Not only have merchandise tie-ins been good before, (I love the Digimon franchise,) but something this high-profile definitely deserves better. Star Wars may be a fantasy series about space wizards for children, but there’s a line between missed potential and not trying. This special’s an example of the latter.

It wouldn’t even be worth talking about if it weren’t considered lost media. The upload I watched on YouTube didn’t even have some of the segments, like the in-special cartoon. But that can’t mask the lack of engagement. The Star Wars Holiday Special’s too dull to be weird, too weird to be engaging, and too lifeless to be respectful. And I’m not saying that to stir up trouble, either.

Have a festive season everyone. And may it be more eventful than this special will ever be!

Rey's Big Rise

One aspect that time and distance provide is reflection, which both heals wounds and validates. This is especially true with a Star Wars movie, especially one like Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. Despite initial reception being negative, and it’s not unwarranted, time has softened the blow and allowed people to re-evaluate it. Having watched it again for the first time in 4 years, I now see the strengths amidst the flaws. That alone is cathartic.

Let me be clear: this movie isn’t great. Aside from being rushed and awkwardly-paced, it has weird directing and writing. Some of the choices are bizarre, while others are downright offensive. But aside from a mishmash of poor decisions, some of which break the lore, I applaud the movie for never being boring. I also applaud it for doing certain aspects well, in particular the themes of legacy and found family. Let’s delve into that.

The character of Rey has always been difficult. In her introductory movie, there’s a mystery surrounding her lineage. She’s hinted at being more than a scavenger, though the truth isn’t revealed. In the sequel, that mystery’s expanded on with an anti-reveal: Rey’s a nobody. I’m not a fan of what led to that reveal, but it’s a cool subversion of expectations. It also caused massive backlash from long-time Star Wars fans who expected more, but Star Wars fans are often their own worst enemies…

It’s pretty obvious that JJ Abrams agreed with the fans on what Rian Johnson decided, as he “course corrects” and slips back into his initial plan of Rey being the Palpatine’s granddaughter. This is where the situation gets complicated, as fans are even more divided on this than the initial anti-reveal. The question remains: does the legacy help or hamper Rey’s character? I’d say it helps it, though not for the reasons most think.

I never liked Emperor Palpatine’s death in The Original Trilogy. Ignoring The Prequels, Palpatine was this megalith of evil who orchestrated everything. He was behind The Clone Wars, he corrupted Anakin Skywalker and he drove the Jedi to near-extinction. Even the trilogy’s conclusion, which marked his proper introduction, had him pulling the strings. He was a force to be reckoned with, nearly electrocuting Luke to death in front of Darth Vader.

So…why does he get discarded like a paperweight? I know this is supposed to be Vader’s redemption moment, but it’s always been unsatisfying. What’s worse, Palpatine doesn’t seem to put up a fight. He’s surprised by Vader’s betrayal, and his screams do him no favours. Palpatine’s defeat feels like the writers being trapped in a corner and copping out on a solution.

It's for that reason that, while a lazy retcon, having Palpatine back was wise in my mind. It feels like Abrams is acknowledging his initial death was lame and giving him another chance. It also helps that Palpatine had created Snoke, whom I was never thrilled with, as it resolves an issue I have with that character too. Essentially, this is Star Wars building on continuity instead of ignoring it. Yay?

This ties into the other part that I really like: Palpatine being Rey’s grandfather. Firstly, why not? Not only did he create Anakin via The Force, but Palpatine was an attractive-looking man as a Galactic Senator. I know it’s fun to joke about his haggardly appearance, even though there’s internalized ableism and ageism there, and how that’d “prevent him from having children”, but young Palpatine disproves that. Have you seen him?!

Secondly, when have The Sith played by the rules? If Anakin’s indication, The Jedi didn’t even play by the rules! But it’s worth calling this out since The Sith revel in temptation. Their shtick is engaging in pleasure, sex included. I, therefore, don’t buy Palpatine as an incel.

And thirdly, it’s Star Wars! Not only is The Force capable of anything, the lore allows for all possibilities providing it plays by the universe’s rules. Remember, a key plot-point of The Prequels is the Satan stand-in creating Space Jesus by magically impregnating a slave woman. This is the actual text, too: Anakin has no biological father, and he’s “The Chosen One”. If Palpatine can manipulate The Force to create a child once, then he can do it again. I don’t understand why this is controversial.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, more than any other film, resolves Rey’s parentage in a clever way. She’s built up as a Palpatine, and she’s destined to take her grandfather’s place as ruler of The Sith. The whole time, we’re waiting for the inevitable. So when it doesn’t happen, and Rey rejects her lineage, it’s a nice subversion of expectations. I think it also makes for better storytelling!

The end scene, where Rey adopts the mantle of Skywalker, is therefore a fitting conclusion to her arc. Sure, heading to Tatooine to bury Luke and Leia’s lightsabers might be odd, even with the symbolism associated with it, but her adopting another lineage is, I think, really clever. This is Star Wars addressing how found families can sometimes be healthier than biological ones, and anyone who grew up in a toxic household can relate. Besides, why shouldn’t that be Rey’s conclusion, given what we know about her real parentage?

Perhaps this only bothers me because it seems like an obvious conclusion. Or maybe the film’s original screenplay was superior, I’m not sure. Regardless, I think people both expect too much from Star Wars, and can’t be satisfied with what they get instead. Given what Patrick H Willems once said, it goes either way, honestly. And this is with recognizing that standards should exist.

So yes, this movie handles legacy excellently. Maybe not other parts of the story, but definitely that!

Kooky King Kong

So that trailer with King Kong and Godzilla sure was something!

I don’t want to discuss it, though. Especially not when I’ve already shared my thoughts on this MONARCH-verse that’s trying to copy The MCU. Instead, I’d like to talk about the resurfacing debate over whether or not King Kong is racist. You ready? Of course not!

Anyway, there’s an argument that pops up occasionally about how the character of King Kong’s racist. The claim is that the titular character’s a stand-in for a black male from Africa who’s revered as a god by the locals. Said ape’s captured by the “civilized” white man and taken to The US to be displayed as a freak, but not before befriending a white woman and falling in love. Said ape then escapes, kidnaps the woman and climbs The Empire State Building, whereupon it’s attacked by planes and falls to its death. It’s all layered in-between a tragedy.

This one’s tough one to address, as its original creators are long dead, but it’s not like there isn’t an argument to be made: King Kong’s fur is black. He’s worshipped as a god by local natives. He eats women, all of whom are “sacrifices”. And he falls in love with his latest victim, who has to be rescued by the heroes. Sounds racist, no?

Apes being a stand-in for black people isn’t new. I’d first heard it when a black woman lectured me about my Jewish faith. But outside of that, there are many papers and essays about this in great detail. Despite the 1:1 parallels being seriously-flawed, especially since, while being primates, humans are different than other apes, this has definitely been a sore spot for eons. I also say that despite King Kong being a gorilla and not a chimpanzee.

It's worth noting how flawed the comparison is. Even ignoring that human didn’t descend from gorillas, gorillas are unlikely to provoke human beings unless threatened. They’re definitely territorial, but a gorilla’s more likely to be attacked than to attack. We see this with how often gorillas are hunted as trophies. But racism doesn’t adhere to facts or logic anyway...

Regardless, the argument has persisted. So it’s not hard, therefore, to read into King Kong as an allegory for black men stealing white women from white men. I don’t want to discredit that line of thinking, as art often has unintended meanings, but writing off the story’s merits, even for its time, based on that alone is disingenuous. After all, it had ground-breaking stop-motion effects! And the Peter Jackson-directed remake in 2005, while upping the racist characteristics of the natives, still managed an impressive and tragic love story between Kong and Ann Darrow via motion capture technology! Saying the story should be ignored, especially when many ground-breaking stories were racist, is ignorance. We should learn from the past, otherwise we can never grow!

On the flip side, we also can’t accurately ascertain that King Kong’s racist. Not only is the original creator dead, hence we can’t ask intent, but art takes on various meanings over time. It’s possible, for example, that Mother Gothel’s Antisemitic, and you can make a strong case for that, but it probably wasn’t intentional. Especially when modern storytelling repackages older stories, complete with any and all baggage. It’s hard to assess the racism of something without either asking the original artist, or deconstructing the story’s individual components.

But let’s pretend the intent of King Kong was, without a doubt, racism. So? Plenty of older stories are racist! Tarzan’s racist! Gone With the Wind’s racist! Birth of a Nation’s racist! That’s not to excuse the aforementioned, but they were as influential as they were products of their time. Acting otherwise is ignorance.

I’m not deliberately sidestepping the issue. While I enjoy King Kong, particularly the 2005 remake, it has little to do with its undertones and a lot to do with the story itself. I like Ann Darrow. I like King Kong. And I like how well they bond over 3+ hours. There are parts of the movie that haven’t aged well, but that doesn’t detract from the whole!

This is the part that needs stressing. Yes, be critical of what you consume. But no, don’t write off something because of that. And for sure don’t use it to ruin someone else’s enjoyment, lest you be “that person”. Because no one wants to be “that person”!

Similarly, pointing out that King Kong’s racist, especially when you don’t quantify anything, isn’t the way to go. It’s like saying that “Democrats owned slaves” and leaving it there, as it not only ignores history, it also doesn’t accomplish anything. Because, like I said, so what? Is that supposed to impress me?

If it feels like I’m being dismissive, it’s only because this argument’s tiresome. It’s not like there isn’t a grain of truth, but it doesn’t get at why the story resonates with so many people. And besides, why mention it in relation to King Kong and Godzilla teaming up? You might think you’re being profound, but you’re not. If anything, you’re being irritating.

So yeah, is King Kong racist? Yes, no, maybe, I don’t know. But is it relevant? Not really. And the sooner we move on, the better.

Tangled's Subtle Problem

Rewatching Tangled after 13 years is an experience. On one hand, I enjoyed it much more than in theatres, as I’ve come to appreciate its impact. On the other hand, there’s a reason Disney abandoned traditional antagonists afterward. Because while Mother Gothel’s fantastically manipulative, using coercion tactics to keep Rapunzel locked away, she’s also a caricature. In particular, she gives off subconsciously-Antisemitic vibes.

Some of you are rolling your eyes at that, wondering what I’m talking about. I didn’t believe it myself for the longest time. But as I’ve gotten older and learned more about Antisemitic stereotypes, I’ve started seeing the connections. I don’t think that diminishes the enjoyment of this movie, but at the same time it’s not something I can ignore. Let me explain.

Let’s delve into what Mother Gothel is: a haggardly witch. She doesn’t have much in the way of powers, aside from appearing and disappearing at will, but she has the physical features of a witch. She’s originally shown as old, decrepit and unsightly. Her nose is crooked and hooked, a traditionally Antisemitic feature. She looks really ugly, and she uses Rapunzel’s hair to restore her youth.

Even in her rejuvenated form, she’s harsher-looking than Rapunzel, having darker, more arid features to compliment Rapunzel’s lighter, more European features. In some ways you’d could argue Gothel’s Roma, which is also a problem, but since she fits the “possessive mother” stereotype, I think being Jewish-coded is more accurate. It doesn’t help that she routinely gaslights Rapunzel into believing she loves her, when she only loves her hair. Sound familiar? That slimy, manipulative, possessive trait’s also an Antisemitic trope, as Medieval Europeans had a fear that Jews were outsiders sneaking into society to take advantage of their innocence.

Either way, Mother Gothel in Tangled is uncomfortable. But whether the witch or the infiltrator, Gothel’s presence, given the European setting, rubs me the wrong way even if I still enjoy the movie. It’s especially upsetting because, aside from witches traditionally being Jewish-coded, I don’t think Disney’s animators were aware of this when they designed her. It’s not like the Disney when Walt was alive, where bigoted depictions of other races were deliberate. This is along the lines of The Disney Renaissance Era, which was less blatantly-racist and more internally-racist. This is the same era that gave us the depictions of Arabs in Aladdin, the depictions of Huns in Mulan and, more recently, The Shadowman in The Princess and the Frog. In that sense, Mother Gothel’s another unfortunate entry in a long line of them.

That’s why it’s important to call this out. Like I said with The Simpsons and child strangulation, art has various levels of interpretation, and some are unintentional. Racist depictions through villain coding, while not at the forefront of most viewers, is another example of that. This doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy these portrayals, I love Disney villains myself, but art’s funny that way. You can enjoy something while still being uncomfortable with it.

It’s also worth mentioning this because there’s a reason Disney discontinued traditional antagonists for a while. I know they brought them back with Wish, but that was largely to comment on their history as a studio. Mother Gothel, while portrayed wonderfully by Donna Murphy, was an unintentional repackaging of a trope that’s existed for centuries. And, to be clear, I don’t think it was entirely Disney’s fault. The fairy-tale from which Tangled’s based wasn’t much better, with Gothel serving a similar role. So while this Mother Gothel might’ve been sanded down to be more appealing, that aspect of her is unavoidable.

All of this makes it hard to fully-appreciate Mother Gothel. Don’t get wrong, she’s well-written, and her villain song is powerful! But she’s easily the weakest part of the movie. I preferred the interactions between Rapunzel and Flynn, particularly their dance number in the city. Even “I’ve Got a Dream”, perhaps the movie’s funniest musical number, is better than Mother Gothel’s scenes with Rapunzel. It’s all because I can’t not see the coded Antisemitism.

I’m not trying to stop you from enjoying Tangled or Mother Gothel. Nor am I trying to diminish the catharsis some people have with seeing her die, especially those who are or were in abusive relationships with their parents. I defended Thanos in The Avengers: Infinity War, and I stand by what I said. Abusive relationships, essentially, have their place on the big-screen. If you love this movie and Mother Gothel, more power to you!

My issue, however, with Mother Gothel is equally valid. It’s not like this movie’s solely guilty of that issue either, as it’s not. The witches in Macbeth have a similar problem, and that’s Shakespeare! Arguably one of the greatest playwrights ever! If William Shakespeare’s not immune to the problems of Mother Gothel, then that should tell you more about the trope she’s based on and less about the movie!

Mother Gothel’s one example of how Disney frequently delves into harmful stereotypes, whether intentional or unintentional. They’ve gotten better at not doing this, especially with villains, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be critical of their slip ups. Because how else are they going to learn? And isn’t that the point of art criticism, to call out the unsavoury elements? I think so!

Now then, about the internet’s fascination with Rapunzel’s character…

The Strangulation Problem

Despite newer seasons being hit-or-miss qualitatively, The Simpsons was prime TV comedy back in the day. No matter what it touched on, it managed to successfully juggle edgy humour with heartfelt drama. Even after 34 years, and a Disney buyout, no sitcom has been as influential as that one. It's almost enough to overlook its depictions of minorities and occasionally poor-taste jokes. Key word being “almost”.

I mention this for two reasons: one, I like The Simpsons. I don’t jive with it 100% of the time, but it knows how to get me thinking while also laughing. And two, not everything about it works in hindsight. In particular, Homer’s gag of angrily strangling Bart really doesn’t sit well as an adult. I get that Bart’s obnoxious, hence Homer’s rage is “cathartic”, but he’s a kid. It, therefore, doesn’t look good to see “America’s #1 TV dad” resorting to violence.

I’m sure this isn’t a new or profound complaint; after all, the show acknowledged this in an episode where a therapist commissions Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to strangle Homer. It even led to the official announcement that Homer would no longer strangle Bart, citing that “times have changed”. This is dandy, but it brings up concerns. Two in particular, if we’re being honest. And here’s where my “street credentials” falter:

Firstly, The Simpsons isn’t a new show. It’s been in syndication for 34 years, 36 if you include The Tracey Ullman Show. It’s been around long enough that any complaints possible could be made. This includes Homer strangling Bart, something always preceded with “Why you little-”. Even by 2007, when the movie debuted, this was going on, except now in HD!

Homer being an aggressive and violent father has been seared into the public consciousness, enough that it’s become a meme. But while “funny”, is it clever? I know parenting methods have changed, but even in the 80’s this was child abuse. And since child abuse is a form of violence, it doesn’t send the best message.

I want to be clear right now: yes, The Simpsons isn’t reality. It’s a sitcom, so it’s going to exaggerate scenarios for laughs. Homer strangling Bart isn’t something the show’s advocating in real life, either. Me being critical of it, therefore, doesn’t mean I’m “missing the joke”. Because I understand that Homer being a piss-poor role model’s intentional.

That said, intent and actuality aren’t the same. Like the whole “the curtains were blue” debate, art has levels by which it can be analyzed, and some are unintentional. It’s the “Death of the Author”, in that there are subconscious meanings behind how art gets discussed. If Apu being a racist depiction of Desi-Americans can be addressed as a topic of discussion, even if it didn’t start out as racist initially, so too can Homer strangling Bart out of anger.

Okay, this has been a problem for decades, and I’m glad the show’s writers are finally acknowledging it. So then…why does Bart proceed to strangle Homer in a more-recent episode? I know this is a role-reversal, as well as potentially-subversive, but it doesn’t automatically excuse it. After all, removing child abuse doesn’t negate the equally-disturbing parental abuse! That might not be as big an issue, because of power imbalances, but it’s not okay either!

This leads to the other problem: the strangulation issue isn’t fully-resolved. I applaud Homer no longer doing the strangling, because that’s always made me uncomfortable, but Bart doing it isn’t any better. Even Bart yelling “Why you giant-” before doing it doesn’t remedy the problem of using needless violence to get your point across. Because isn’t that why we have words? To communicate our feelings?

Perhaps I’m overthinking this. Okay, I’m totally overthinking this! But outside of being a buzzkill, this is trading one evil for another, less-understood evil. If The Simpsons wanted to be subversive these days, it could start with its most violent gag. I’m not sure what to suggest, but I’m not a screenwriter. Also, I’m not being paid.

By finding a workaround, the writers can set a new standard. The Simpsons, after all, has long been accused of “being stale” for years, such that it too is a meme. And part of that’s a lack of risk, as well as a refusal to leave dated aspects in the past. It’s not like the show’s unaware that strangulation’s bad, or they wouldn’t have addressed it with the therapy session!

Besides, removing the gag and replacing it with something constructive might free up room to discuss other issues. Like how the couch gags are too long now. Or how Julie Kavner and Harry Shearer no longer sound good as Marge and Mr. Burns. Or even how, despite the improved animation, the newer episodes routinely chase trends, as opposed to starting them. Homer strangling his son is the cherry on top, even if the show promised to stop doing it.

Finally, I’d like to address something perplexing: when it was announced that Homer would stop strangling Bart, some people became enraged, claiming it “ruined the show”. Yet, like with Hari Kondabolu and Apu, I must object. When did a gag that’s overstayed its welcome become the death-knell of something you don’t like anymore? And why does axing it bother you if you weren’t interested anyway? I’d call the bluff, but is it worth it? Not really.