Endgame in Reflection

I recently saw The Avengers: Endgame in theatres again.

Despite it being 7 years, I was surprised by how well it holds up as a whole. It’s suspenseful, funny, emotional and satisfying, sometimes all at once. It’s also really well-written, something you forget with all the memes and out-of-context clips. That’s a testament to how well it’s aged, especially given how all over the place The MCU has been lately. I say that begrudgingly.

There’s a lot I can discuss here. Narrative-wise, despite the third-act, this is a relatively-restrained time heist movie. Most of the action beats are tied into the plot, and much of the tension comes from character interactions and decisions. Arguably the most tense moment, when Captain America’s in the elevator with S.H.I.E.L.D’s Strike Squad, leads to a fight scene that never happens. We know these are really Hydra members, and the movie holds on the conversation, but the fight scene never happens because it’s deflated with two words. It’s funny and suspenseful, further accentuating the writing.

Another point is how somber this movie feels. Whether it’s dealing with the fallout of Thanos’s snap, which lasts 5 years in-film, or Thor’s slump into depression, the movie has several moments where I felt emotional. This is especially true with Clint and Natasha’s fight over who gets to become The Soul Stone. Considering their relationship, seeing them squabble like siblings was heartbreaking. It was more upsetting than witnessing Thanos toss Gamora over the cliff in The Avengers: Infinity War, as their relationship wasn’t one-sided.

The time heist section still has great action scenes. The crown jewel involves Captain America facing off against himself. He’s been falsely accused of being Loki, so the two face off over Loki’s scepter. Older Captain America wins, but not before a fistfight with lots of shattered glass. It also ends on one of the movie’s best jokes.

But the part that everyone remembers is the third-act, which is a battle in the ruins of the Stark complex. Initially a fight against Thanos, it turns into an all-out war when Thanos’s army appears and all the previously dusted Avengers return. There are many fantastic moments, including Captain America picking up and wielding Mjolnir. That’d been teased in The Avengers: Age of Ultron, so the pay-off was really satisfying. Wanda going full-on vengeance on Thanos was also fun to watch. It’s the only time we see Thanos concerned.

The entire third-act could be its own movie, complete with many great moments, which is why it bums me out that people have used The Boys to discredit it. Yes, this movie’s corporate popcorn fluff. But so is The Boys. And yes, “Don’t worry, she’s got help!” was an excuse to tease its superheroines. But who cares?! It was fun!

That’s really the crux here: it’s fun. Even the added scenes, which I won’t spoil, are enjoyable. Because The MCU might be a franchise of superhero action, but it’s well-made. There’s plenty of excellent writing for something that could’ve been phoned in, and that’s why it resonates. It also explains the box-office returns it’s generating still, showing how mass entertainment can be thought-provoking. You can’t deny that.

A lot has happened with this franchise since The Avengers: Endgame. The most-notable involves Kang being replaced by Doctor Doom, thanks to his actor destroying his career. And with previously-established actors, Jeremy Renner’s seen his favourability revive and Chris Pratt’s seen his plummet. This was also the end, at least at the time, of Chris Evans and Robert Downey Jr.’s tenures in The MCU. They’ve come back since, Downey as the new antagonist, but it seemed then like they were done. It made their goodbyes feel emotional, which is a sign of good writing.

There’s been talk recently about if The MCU has overstayed its welcome, which I don’t think it has. There’s also been talk about if the movies and shows since have been good, which I’d argue they (mostly) are. And there’s been talk about whether or not people are tired of Marvel content being released yearly, to which it depends on what you mean. Regardless, this particular movie’s largely remembered as a high-point, for many reasons. One can only hope The Avengers: Doomsday can live up to it.

Personally, I don’t think it matters, though. The Avengers: Endgame was a masterclass of popcorn entertainment, such that, even in the mostly-empty theatre I was in, people laughed and applauded at the appropriate times upon rewatch. They also got emotional at the appropriate times. You don’t have that if the movie isn’t enduring. That’s more important than whether or not another Avengers movie can surpass it.

It also serves as a counterargument to “superhero fatigue”. There’s lots of discussion about that lately with the diminished returns of new films, with some underperforming, but I think it ignores the sub-genre’s history. If Batman & Robin couldn’t destroy its reputation with moviegoers, then why would a string of better movies flopping do that? It doesn’t add up. And if Spider-Man: Brand New Day’s indication, I doubt it ever will.

However, that detracts from the main point. You can lament The MCU for being overly-silly and dragging on, and I can see the arguments for both claims. But if a 7 year-old movie still resonates like it did in 2019, despite audiences tastes changing, then guess what? It doesn’t matter. The MCU isn’t going anywhere, and this movie is proof of that. I think that speaks volumes more than any gripes with the 18 year-old franchise.

Movies "Feel Written"?

Every so often, a YouTube video’s clickbait title’s so bizarre that I’m tempted to watch it. Such is the case with this video:

Hmm… (Courtesy of Elliot Frame.)

I have nothing personal against Elliot. He argues his points fine, but something about this title, and the essay itself, feels…pretentious. Like another attack of modern filmmaking from someone yearning for past cinema. I don’t like that. Particularly, I don’t like the implication that modern movies “feel written”. Here’s why:

Firstly, the title’s misleading. “Why Movies Feel Written Now”? What does that mean? All movies “feel written”? I assure you the average WGA member would take offence to that claim. Not only are they not respected by the studio system, especially with the advent of A.I., but claiming their work “feels written” as an insult is really snobbish. I’m sorry, it is.

But even if you took the claim that “movies feel written now” at face value? It still falls completely flat. Compared to what, exactly? Older movies? Because a classic like The Matrix feels incredibly written. Like, to the point of being incredibly exposition-heavy. I enjoy that movie, but it’s as “feels written” as you’re going to get, even when juxtaposed with modern-day action films.

 

It doesn’t have to stop there! Every action movie released since Jaws feels “written”. It’s the nature of the genre. The first ever Star Wars movie feels so “written” that the cast and crew improvised lines and mocked George Lucas. That’s “invisible writing”? Because if so…

I know what’s really going on. Considering the examples mentioned in this video, I can’t help wondering if Elliot has a particular type of movie he likes: indie dramas. I like some of those movies too, but they’re meant to vibe with a different writing style. Action movies usually resort to stock archetypes, even when they’re executed well. Indie dramas, however, are populated with characters that feel real, despite being creations for the silver screen. That doesn’t make them feel any “less written”.

But even with the assumption that indie dramas feel more organic, that’s not true either. Elliot highlights the ending to Lost in Translation, a movie about two Americans committing adultery in Japan, specifically. They form an authentic relationship, true, but it still “feels written”. Even the ending conversation is deliberately ambiguous. That’s not organic, but rather carefully calculated on the part of Sofia Coppola.

 

I guess I’m annoyed because movies, by design, are about emotional manipulation. They’re basically propaganda, subtly and not-so-subtly pushing specific feelings and lessons on the audience. It’s why so many get flack for heavily including military technology and strong police presences: it sends a message to the audience about both of them. That doesn’t mean the audience has to accept it, and it for sure doesn’t make the movies “bad”, but it’s a choice. It “feels written”, too.

The title of Elliot’s essay “feels written” as an attack on modern filmmaking. I understand saying that modern movies “spell out the motives of characters”, as opposed to leaving it up to interpretation, but even then I disagree. Moviemaking has evolved since its inception, even if the basic techniques haven’t, and stories have changed as our understanding of reality has changed. Ideas and concepts that were accepted 50 years ago aren’t accepted now, and ideas and concepts that are accepted now probably won’t be in 50 years. That’s called “changing sensibilities”, and while older films should be respected for what they achieved, that doesn’t mean modern movies pale to them.

If Elliot wanted to reflect his thesis, that big-budget writing feels less authentic than indie writing, he should’ve said that upfront. But I get why he didn’t: YouTube’s algorithm. Clickbait-y titles grab the viewer’s attention, after all! It’s why my titles have gotten shorter and punchier over the years. Besides, would you rather have a long-winded, nuanced header, or something quick and provocative?

 

I know my preference, but it works against my SEO numbers. Therefore, I get why Elliot chose something attention-grabbing. But it feels dishonest. Especially given the video in question, which is an argument for indie dramas over big-budget action. And even that doesn’t do either justice.

Look, I’m a writer too. I’m currently working on a 13-chapter manuscript for a book I finished almost 4 years ago. Writing stories isn’t easy, as there are many variables and moving parts that have to fit together. Screenwriting’s no different. And even once the script’s ready, there are still changes and rewrites made before the movie’s released. That’s part of the job. Yet it absolutely “feels written”.

This video essay feels like another shameless jab at modern Hollywood filmmaking. And yes, there are many issues with how Hollywood’s run nowadays. However, taking it out on the screenwriters is dishonest. It’s also a bad way to get noticed, something Elliot clearly seems to be interested in. Because trust me, people take note.

 

So here’s my plea to Elliot: don’t be a jerk. I don’t think you intended it, but modern movies are still valid. And they all “feel written”. Some feel less-so than others, though that’s not an indictment of the medium generally. You may not like it, but if you want to become great at screenwriting you need to broaden your tastes. Because even movies that “feel written” have something valuable to learn from.

Munich on Trial

I’ve been dreading discussing Munich for years. Unlike Inglourious Basterds, which I’m also mixed on, it’s based on real events. 11 Israeli athletes being murdered by Palestinian terror group Black September actually happened, and it’s reprehensible that it took 50 years for The IOC to acknowledge it. However, while Steven Spielberg might’ve been the right director for this subject matter, as even his turds are interesting, the way he tackled it bothers me. Especially since it’s being reevaluated with October 7th and the Gaza incursion. However, since Patrick H Willems discussed it in his most-recent video, I guess I’m biting the bullet.

Full-disclosure: I didn’t rewatch Munich for this. A part of me wanted to, but I was genuinely scared. I don’t remember my experience, particularly the bizarre sex scene, to be pleasant. It was long, frustrating and occasionally boring. And its attempt at being even-handed felt preachy, such that I lost interest and ended up confused. Essentially, everything I’m about to mention is based on memory and cultural osmosis. Understood?

Also, this is too competently acted and directed to be “bad”. Spielberg doesn’t cop out on basic visual storytelling, even when he misfires, and this is no exception. I especially appreciate how every actor fully-commits, even if not all of them are appropriately cast. (What’s Daniel Craig doing in here?) Considering how a truly bad movie wouldn’t be like this, I think perspective is in order.

Let’s get the elephant in the room out of the way: the movie’s seen a resurgence in popularity. Right around the time Israel went to clear out Hamas operatives in 2023, people on Twitter and Facebook were talking about how the movie’s biggest lesson was how Palestinians are human beings, and that Israelis and Jews don’t view them as such. This is false. I can’t speak for all Jews, since we’re notorious for not seeing eye-to-eye, but the notion that no one cares about Palestinians isn’t true. Ignoring activists and extremist groups (I’m talking about The Neturei Karta), Jews, Israelis in particular, have been advocating for Palestinians for decades. They were advocating long before it was mainstream, hence the tragedy of October 7th. (Those individuals who were murdered were peace activists.)

It’s important to remind my readers of that because that’s frequently lost in the conversation. Sometimes, as with The Nova Exhibit, it’s deliberately ignored by those who refuse to acknowledge the humanity of Israelis. But it’s true. Individuals like Tiferet Lapidot, or Vivian Silver, had done more to foster peace with humanitarian work than most keyboard warriors. And they were still murdered anyway, because life’s cruel. Saying that Jews and Israelis don’t care about Palestinians is a lie.

Even removing that from the equation, Munich ham-fistedly reminds the audience of that through its diatribes about “The Cycle of Violence”. This theory states that violence is a game of cause-and-effect, with the perpetrators experiencing retaliation from those they attack frequently. The only way to end this cycle is to break it and acknowledge the humanity of the victims. It sounds good in theory, but humans aren’t automatons. Unlike robots, we have agency in our behaviour. Trauma might also explain violence, but it doesn’t excuse it.

This movie missed the memo. Munich was written by Tony Kushner, who’d previously penned Schindler’s List and would later pen Lincoln. One of its co-writers was the writer of Forrest Gump and Ali, Eric Roth, and save Dune he’s yet to write a movie I’ve enjoyed consistently. I’d expect a ham-fisted, preachy endeavour from Roth, but I’m embarrassed that Kushner fell guilty of that too. And yet, because movies are collaborative, I’m not sure who’s really to blame.

Assuming Kushner takes most of the credit, then I’m incredibly disappointed in him. I know his personal politics around Israel are complicated, something he’s confided in interviews. I also know he likes inserting his politics in his scripts, as evidenced by the out-of-place insinuation in Schindler’s List that Israel only exists because of The Holocaust. Yet while that was annoying, it was cancelled out by the remainder of the film being excellent. Here, however, his politics are everywhere, feeling tactless and preachy even if unintended.

This is most-apparent in the movie’s final conversation, where the protagonist, Avner, has a conversation with his superior while The Twin Towers are in the background. Nothing’s said of this in-film, yet the implication is that the action of The Mossad are partly to blame for the destruction of these towers in 2001. There’s room to discuss the dangers of American Interventionalist behaviour, and how that’s destroyed many countries, but drawing a parallel between Israel and 9/11 is, truthfully, insulting. It’s especially insulting to the memories of the dead, and it implicates Israelis in something they had no part in. Like the “dancing Israelis” claim, I’m annoyed.

Yet little details like this are peppered throughout, some more obvious than others. Yes, the members of Black Saturday were human beings. Yes, many of them had families. No, I don’t approve of the extreme measures The Mossad went to. But understanding isn’t empathizing. Black Sunday might be human beings, but they’re still terrorists. No one was going “well, actually” over Adolf Eichmann, even though he’s the only person Israel’s used the death penalty on, so why Black September? Why do they get away with “well, actually” because they’re Palestinian? Did the Israeli athletes they murdered get that same treatment?

If it feels like I’m over-projecting, it’s because the movie invites it. Like with Inglourious Basterds, it robs the Jewish characters of sympathy in order to show “what happened” to their perpetrators. Except this was real, not some alternate reality that rewrites The Holocaust into a revisionist tale. It also leaves me feeling icky about what happened to terrorists, something that doesn’t sit well. That’s a failure of storytelling.

Movies, contrary to what some claim, frequently parallel real life. And when Jews are being shamelessly torn down to build up Palestinians, which is insulting to both groups, for a Hollywood thriller to dabble in “those poor terrorists” because they’re from a country that currently has the world’s pity is self-righteous and doesn’t do anyone favours. It doesn’t do the dead Israelis justice, it doesn’t help the Palestinian civilians at the hands of their leaders, and it for sure doesn’t set the record straight on 9/11. If anything, this is an insulting movie!

I’d be less-annoyed if Antisemitism weren’t at an all-time high because of Gaza, but it is. It’s showing its face in how people are reacting to Robert Kraft’s mishandling of Macklemore. Or in how people are reacting to Mark Ruffalo’s feud with The Ellisons. Or in how people blamed the Ceuta situation on Israel. Or in the nonsensical petition to have Marwan Barghouti, a man with 5 life sentences, released from prison because he’s “The Palestinian Nelson Mandela”. God, I’m tired…

Between this and the rise in Antisemitic attacks, such that Jews around the world are scared, it’s no wonder I have a personal vendetta against Munich. I get wanting to portray the characters with nuance, such that you question the motives of the protagonists, but this was the wrong way to do it. If Spielberg and company were intent on a movie like this, they’d have best picked a different story. If they so desperately wished to cover what happened in Munich, which sucked, then they shouldn’t have had their cake and eaten it too. Basically, they needed to get out of their own way.

I’ll end this with something I recently read. Not too long ago, The Fuck Parade, an organization dedicated to punk rock, was asked to release a statement about Gaza. They did, and it was a rebuke of statements that ignored the victims of The Nova Festival, all of whom simply wanted to dance. While that might seem harsh, I applaud this organization for respecting Israelis as people. Because no civilians, even those from a country people deem the villain, deserved what happened. If acknowledging Israeli pain offends people, so be it!

9/11 in Reflection

 Tuesday, September 11th, 2001 began as a normal school day. I woke up, got changed, ate breakfast, got driven in carpool and began classes. Halfway through the morning, however, my principle told everyone to head to the parking lot. Once there, she asked the following question:

“Can anyone tell me what the names of the famous skyscrapers in New York City are?”

I’d watched a Popular Mechanics for Kids episode on skyscrapers two days earlier, so I raised my hand.

“The Twin Towers?” I responded, half-expecting a prize.

My principle nodded.

“Correct,” she said. “They’re on fire right now. You’re all dismissed for the day.”

It was surreal. But that was 9/11 to anyone old enough to understand what happened. Even watching the news that afternoon, the same image of the planes hitting the towers over and over, was hard to process. Why would anyone drive a plane into a skyscraper, let-alone The Twin Towers? It didn’t make sense.

25 years later, it still doesn’t make sense. I understand more about the day, including the motivations of the people behind this, but why The Twin Towers? Why not The Empire State Building, or The Sears Tower? Why not even The Statue of Liberty? Why these towers specifically?

I have no answers. At least, not good ones. But what bothers me more is how the collective psyche’s processed it. There were claims of American unity, but the truth painted an entirely different picture. The United States became a testing ground for The Patriot Act, which allowed for increased surveillance of individuals and organizations. Media was afraid to mock airport security, and references to The Twin Towers were scrubbed altogether in entertainment. And, of course, there were Afghanistan and Iraq, both leading to many senseless deaths and long-term injuries.

I could soapbox about how the world has weaponized this day for malicious reasons. How it’s become a justification for bigoted politics. Or how conspiracy theorists have ranted about details that “don’t add up”. Or how fringe voices have pointed fingers at marginalized groups, using “evidence” to imply an underground conspiracy. But none of that would do this tragedy justice. Nor would it be respectful to the nearly-3000 lives lost on that day.

So I’ll keep it personal. Because I was young enough to be impressionable, yet old enough to somewhat understand what was going on. My outlook has also changed a lot since. Not only have my personal politics evolved, but 9/11 was the beginning of me realizing that adults didn’t always have the answers I needed. In some cases, they didn’t have answers at all. As I’d learn the following year on a trip to New York City, sometimes they didn’t know period.

But while that lack of knowledge might be comforting, it’s also dangerous. Realizing over time that Iraq had been invaded on false pretenses, and the lie justifying it was toxic, is something that’s sit with me for a while. Recognizing the leaders of the world didn’t have the commoner’s best interests at heart has shaped my adult mind. In many ways, 9/11 was the catalyst for our broken present.

On the flip-side, I also think it’s made my peers overly cynical and pessimistic. I’ve frequently heard of “accelerationism” and “apathy” lobbed at the political system, that there’s no point in fixing anything because it’s designed to be broken. That’s equally as unhelpful as the power structure leeching on 9/11. If people fought for the right to be politically active, that sacrifice must be respected. We owe the dead that much.

I also think we need to keep ourselves in-check. Because 25 years is enough time to become numb. Yes, Al-Qaeda was responsible. And yes, not stopping this was reprehensible. But no one had to die over it. Let’s respect the dead, even if we hate the power structure. Acting holier-than-thou helps nobody.

This is all stuff I’ve come to appreciate over time. Because 9/11 was horrific, even if you take the perpetrators out of the equation. It was something that didn’t need to happen, but it did. And behaving otherwise ignores the lessons we can learn, for better or worse. That much is for certain.

Finally, I think we should extend some grace, if you can call it that, to those too young to understand what happened. Whether it was being a kid, a teenager, or simply not being born yet, the world did, in fact, change. And not necessarily for the better. That so much of our fractured mindset can be traced back to 9/11 explains why young people feel the world has failed them. If I shouldn’t be blamed for being 11 years old at the time, then someone else shouldn’t be blamed for not being alive yet and coming into a traumatized world after the fact. Because 25 years is both a long time, and not long enough. I can’t stress that enough.

Perhaps, ironically, I’ve gone on my own soapbox tangent after all…

Wile E. Won

Every so often, life works out.

Take Coyote VS ACME, which almost didn’t see the light of day. I’ve written about it before, but the circumstances surrounding its release are as relevant as the movie. It was going to be a tax write-off, only to be shopped around and saved by Ketchup Entertainment. This wasn’t a minor “oopsie”, either: the film came close to not releasing, only doing so at the 11th hour. Like with James Gunn and Disney, this movie escaped death because people wanted it to happen.

It’s fitting because that’s emblematic of the movie. Coyote VS ACME is about Wile E. Coyote, who keeps failing at catching The Roadrunner, suing The ACME Corporation over their products. Initially, both Wile E. and his lawyer, Kevin, think little of the situation: Wile E. wants his prize, while Kevin’s a washed-up lawyer used to small settlements with ACME. However, as both of them do digging, they uncover a conspiracy spanning decades that has impacted hundreds of cartoons. It’s surprisingly deep and might even be this generation’s Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

I don’t say that lightly. Whereas that movie was an allegory for the dark underbelly of Los Angeles, this movie directly tackles the negligence of corporate deregulation. Given how modern Americana has suffered because of deregulation, that a studio movie was brave enough to discuss this is gutsy. It might even be too gutsy! But that’s a whole other can of worms.

What makes this movie compelling is that, despite being angry, it has an immense love for its material. Coyote VS ACME doesn’t hate the Looney Tunes, but rather how Warner Bros. has mishandled them. These were the gems of the studio until the 1970s, but in recent decades no one’s known what to do with them. As a result, they’ve starred in a string of ambitious and not-so-ambitious flops, including Space Jam: A New Legacy a few years ago. This movie’s commenting on that, and it isn’t hiding it.

It’s telling that Warner Bros. almost shelved it. It’s equally telling that the movie’s tracking to make double its budget at the box-office. Considering word-of-mouth movies don’t always equate to successes, for this to do well financially because of fans is welcoming. It shows that sometimes we see positive outcomes, however rare they are. I should applaud that.

It helps that the commentary has real teeth. It argues that even if cartoon characters “tolerate pain”, that doesn’t make it right. Because it can cause them psychological damage, as we see throughout the movie. It’s something you don’t think about until you make the real-world parallels to minority injustices. Sure, marginalized groups might “tolerate their abuse”, but do they really? Or are they pretending and putting on a brave face?

I can’t help relating to this personally. Jews, particularly American Jews, were subjected to Antisemitism for centuries, and many were forced to blend in. Even after WWII, they fought for acceptance and integration, possibly at the expense of their unique identity. They might’ve integrated too well, such that we’re now witnessing a wave of extreme backlash and resentment over it. In that sense, Jews are The Looney Tunes.

Soapbox aside, this movie’s commentary is exactly what’s needed right now. The amount of corporate neglect is prescient, and distrust of the power structure’s at an all-time high. This correlation isn’t accidental, either: decades of cutting corners in the name of a quick buck has led to this. And attempts at whistle-blowing by individuals in the corporate world have resulted in legal and fatal consequences, something the movie comments on. It doesn’t hold back, and I welcome that.

It helps that this movie’s really funny. Whether it’s reworking classic tunes with Looney Tunes-centric spins, or using cartoon slapstick to generate laughs, this movie has no shortage of wit. I remember laughing out loud quite frequently, which says something since I find slapstick humour to be a cheap form of comedy. But it works. Against all odds, it works! And part of that is because the cartoon characters are treated with respect.

Does that mean everything about the movie flows? No. Aside from small quibbles here and there, the animation style is more CGI than conventionally-drawn. It has the illusion of traditional animation, but you can spot the difference. I genuinely think going the extra mile to draw the characters by hand would’ve added an additional layer of charm. I say that because they’re voiced by real voice actors, as opposed to celebrities.

There are many movies with plenty of hype that I’ve had different reactions to. Some, like Mad Max: Fury Road, I didn’t think were worthy of their praise. Others, like the animated ventures from Phil Lord and Chris Miller, were absolutely worthy of their praise. Coyote VS ACME falls in the middle, though closer to the latter thanks to its release history. Ironically, in an attempt to get rid of it, it was made more relevant. For that reason alone I’d recommend it.

Above all else, this is proof that, like I said earlier, life sometimes works out. Because it did here, and we should applaud that. It’s a shame other ventures won’t see the light of day because of similar write-offs, but at least it worked to the public’s advantage here. So celebrate. And Warner Bros. should be ashamed of themselves, even if I doubt they care.

Hollywood's Weight Problem

I haven’t played the God of War games. Ignoring their excessive violence and sexuality, I don’t own Sony consoles. My thoughts, therefore, are ancillary, with little to say about the franchise. However, I know about body image, having been underweight my whole life, so everything I discuss will be viewed through that. Which leads me to the live-action TV series based on the franchise.

During FanExpo in Toronto, Christopher Judge, who had a role in the recent God of War entries, was asked if he was interested in joining the show as Kratos. He had the following to say:

“We had talked, and I thought, ‘God, what a great legacy to leave for my grandson.’ So I started working out. I got bigger. Then, just the reality of it... because I did read! I did read for it. It was so hard for me to memorize my lines, which I never had a problem with. And that was my mind and body starting to tell me, ‘You don't want to do this.’ I was one of the leads of Stargate at 33 to 44 and then stopped. Now, at 62, to be the lead, I just have no desire to live that way again.”

It’s easy to be disappointed; after all, Judge isn’t a stranger to the material! But when you stop and think about the amount of work that goes into the role, as well as the toll it takes on the body, it makes sense. Bulking up for roles isn’t new, yet doing so rapidly and in short order is exhausting. It also isn’t healthy. And Judge didn’t want that again.

I’m sure some of you don’t know this, but the human body isn’t designed to quickly bulk up or slim down. It’s easier with men, for reasons I don’t understand, but changing body mass too quickly can destroy you physically. It’s especially true with weight loss, as your body feeds on your reserve energy, though rapid weight gain also isn’t healthy. It’s why I’m concerned for method actors who do it to get into a role, as who knows what harm they’re doing long-term?

This isn’t only me speaking. There have been plenty of stories from celebrities recounting the exhaustion they’ve experienced from dieting. Christian Bale lost so much weight for The Machinist that he was at risk for osteoporosis. Even now, I’m not sure what damage he’s done to himself long-term. Basically, it’s not a good idea.

Hollywood has many roles that require certain weights, but rapid transformations are why I have no interest in entering the industry. It’s not the only reason, but my time’s better spent enjoying the end-result. You can call me selfish for saying that, but it’s true. Besides, I dare you to do better. Honestly.

Anyway, I don’t blame Judge for saying no. It’s not like he’s doing another video game either, as that can be counterbalanced with animators and VFX artists. No, Judge would have to work out frequently, change his diet and have the time and energy to memorize lines. As he’s indicated, it didn’t work for him. You can claim that he tried, but if it’s not working…

However, that’s the problem. Outside of Hollywood’s ridiculous beauty standards, such that being too old can cost you roles, audiences are too detached to understand or appreciate what goes into making what we consume. It’s the sausage effect: we’re so busy eating them that we don’t think about how they’re made. And if we did, would we want to eat them? I’m not sure we would.

This issue is why I respect Anthony Hopkins for opting for a fat suit with Hitchcock. You can argue the ethics of fat suits forever, I’m not a fan of them either, but the principle remains intact. Because Hopkins refused to change his body for a role. Given his attitude toward acting generally, it’s also not surprising. So yes, props to him.

Overall, we should recognize this isn’t something Judge wanted, and we have to respect that. It’s not like there aren’t other actors who’d love to work on one of these roles, especially ones younger than Judge, and many are struggling C-Listers waiting for their big breaks. If anything, we should celebrate new talent coming onto the scene! Isn’t that what happened with Ellie in The Last of Us? It worked to Bella Ramsey’s advantage, no?

I know rapid weight loss or gain will remain an issue in Hollywood. I’m not even saying that working out is bad, as I do it twice a week! But while valid, doing it recklessly is dangerous. The human body isn’t designed for drastic change, and we can’t anticipate the long-term damage. Kumail Nanjiani’s a perfect example, having bulked up for Eternals and regretting it. It’s really unhealthy.

True, there’s plenty about Hollywood that’s awful. I’ve made no secret of my thoughts on that. But while I can’t change this on my own, as I lack that kind of influence, that doesn’t mean I want people to harm themselves fulfilling a casting itch. Actors are still human beings, and they’re subject to the limitations associated with that. If Christopher Judge doesn’t want a rigorous regimen to play a beloved character, especially being in his early-60s, that’s his choice. And it needs to be respected.

Ultimately, I’m happy Judge recognized his limitations here. I think that you should be too.

My Grumpy Mentor

One of the reveals at this year’s D23 Expo was more information about The Incredibles 3. Despite having been announced years ago, many fans latched onto the image of a despondent Bob Parr. The complaints centred around him being jaded by old age, stating that it was an overused and annoying cliché. Why couldn’t mentor figures be upbeat for once? Why do they always have to be sour?

Personally, this doesn’t bother me for two reasons. The first is that complaining completely misreads who Bob is as a character. We remember The Incredibles as a funny and quirky movie, but it was profoundly sad. This was a film about an aging, washed up superhero preyed on as a means of revenge. It’s reinforced frequently, particularly when Bob discovers that his colleagues have been eliminated for sport. The movie doesn’t hold back on how disturbing that is, even showing Bob’s reaction.

The sequel had Bob struggling with balancing his family life with a chance to do good. This is his opportunity to clear the reputation of superheroes, and he has to live it through his wife? Sure, he’s trying to be supportive, but it stings. And the movie doesn’t hide this, with him eventually cracking and yelling at his kids. Bob Parr being despondent is completely in-character, especially since he’s a flawed, selfish individual.

The second reason this doesn’t bother me is because being jaded is compelling drama for an aging hero. Life frequently kicks the crap out of people as they age. It starts with physical ailments-back problems, joint issues, a shorter lung capacity-then turns into heartbreak and drama as life takes those you care about. I’ve been alive for 36 years, but I’ve dealt with both of those. I get muscle spasms from overworking myself, my stomach rebels when I eat too much, and I’ve witnessed three of my four grandparents die. That takes a toll on you, and I haven’t even gotten into my regrets.

Also, Bob being despondent makes sense, especially given what he’s been through already. We haven’t even been told why he’s like that. He might’ve screwed up, or failed someone he cares about. For all we know, he could have a valid reason for despondency, which makes for great drama. Why’s that an issue?

It’s not only Bob Parr. This sentiment extends to other properties too. Luke Skywalker being a jaded hermit who closes himself off to The Force was a huge point of contention in the newer Star Wars movies. Indiana Jones being a crabby old man was also a point of contention in Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny. Even Logan being a jaded father figure in Logan turned some people off, despite the movie being fantastic! People don’t like their heroes bummed out or depressed.

But why? Naïve optimism only gets you so far. People frequently become disillusioned by reality over time, and not everyone takes it well. My biggest disappointment over the last few years was seeing how normalized Antisemitism is. It hasn’t broken me, but it’s made me more guarded. Again, I’m only 36.

Jaded heroes might make some audiences self-conscious, but that doesn’t make for a tired cliché. Working through regrets is compelling, especially when it allows for character development. Luke Skywalker being disillusioned is a bummer, but him overcoming that, reconnecting with his roots and becoming the legend people believe him to be is compelling and exciting. As is Indiana Jones coming to peace with his failure as a father. This isn’t bad writing.

However, the real issue here is that fans don’t want their heroes challenged. They don’t want a jaded Luke, they want a Luke that slices through Darktroopers like paper. They also don’t want a sour Indy, they want one who brandishes his whip and punches baddies. So too do they not want a despondent Bob Parr, but rather one who’s always heroic.

I’m grateful these individuals aren’t writing movies. Or if they are, they’re not big-budget. Fan wish-lists aren’t always practical, especially if they clash with compelling writing. After all, if people become more cynical as they age, then shouldn’t movies reflect that? Isn’t that art mirroring reality?

Perhaps I’m expecting too much of audiences who can’t accept racial diversity either. It’s not like these movies haven’t also received criticism for attempting that, right? But it bothers me that people claim they want fresh storytelling, yet freak out and panic when they get that. Especially since people don’t stay young forever, and good storytelling reflects that. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

Either way, complaining about the “jaded mentor trope” being cliché isn’t fair. It’s a byproduct of getting older, and it’s a compelling reason to pass the torch to the younger generation. Logan might be jaded in Logan, but we cry over his death because we’ve gotten to know him. He’s sour in his older age, but his acceptance of Laura as his daughter/clone is compelling drama. This is more interesting than him being his usual, grumpy self.

Also, if franchises are to continue to stay fresh, they need to reasons to remain relevant. The grumpy mentor trope, for as much as it might seem cliché, is one way to do that. It also works with the limitations of actors as they age, be it physically or vocally. Disregarding that in favour of our heroes remaining forever young is selfish and irresponsible. It’s also bad writing.

So yes, Bob Parr being a despondent hero doesn’t bother me, and it shouldn’t bother you either.