Studio Ghibli Retrospective 2

Part 1

IV. Castle in the Sky

This is one of the first movies from the studio that I watched, and it blew me away from the get-go. It’s weird, because I had every reason to hate it: it’s silly. The drama’s weirdly-blended with comedic moments. The characters are archetypes. The tone pays homage to Star Wars and Indiana Jones, those goofy serials you kinda wish were made more now, yet understand why they were phased out. Even the story, which pays tribute to Jules Verne and Jonathan Swift, seems a quintessentially-80’s action movie. Being that I didn’t grow up in the 80’s, hence I have no attachment to the decade, I was amazed at how drawn into the experience I was.

I think part of it’s Hayao Miyazaki’s ability to drive home any kind of film. Like a hybrid of Spielberg’s sentimentality and Disney’s whimsy, Miyazaki can capture his audience and hold them tight. In the case of Castle in the Sky, there’s a youthfulness that makes this experience feel timeless. It’s the kind of film that could never be made by Miyazaki today, he’s way too jaded now, but any freshman would kill to make a movie half as good.

The story itself is, arguably, nothing special. It’s a “race to the __” film, a standard MacGuffin chase. We know where it’ll end, but it’s the destination that counts. Even plot-holes like “How could no one believe Pazu’s late father about Laputa when he photographed it?” become secondary to “Who really cares?” Because, let’s be honest, who really cares?

What matters are the characters. Pazu and Sheeta are standard, pre-teen wide-eyes, but their energy and optimism drive home what would’ve been an otherwise uninteresting pairing. The Dola Gang are as funny and entertaining as the hyenas from The Lion King, and they’ll definitely keep kids and adults entertained. But my favourite character’s Colonel Muska, the film’s villain and only other Miyazaki antagonist (outside of Count Cagliostro) to actually be played up as all slime. He’s straight out of a Bond movie, with his calm demeanour, condescending attitude, sophistication and, yes, villainous cackle.

It helps that the action sequences are equally spectacular. My favourite is in the fortress, where a resurrected robot runs amuck, destroying everything, in an attempt to rescue Sheeta. It’s fun, it’s suspenseful, but it’s also incredibly melancholic. It even ends on a bittersweet note. That’s not to downplay the other action scenes, which are equally as impressive.

It’s fitting that the rug pull, when the characters finally reach Laputa, feels sad and empty. Laputa, having long been abandoned, is now a garden. The robots of Laputa, once their faithful servants, are now its humble caretakers, having outlived its civilization. It’s a humbling experience to witness, reminding the viewer that nature will always win out.

Perhaps that’s why the film’s only flaw, Sheeta’s heartbreaking speech, feels out-of-place: it’s unnecessary. We’ve already seen what she preaches. Even with the rescoring, courtesy of Joe Hisaishi for Disney’s dub, that part could’ve been trimmed and nothing would be lost. But it’s too late now to fix that...

Castle in the Sky’s exactly what it’s sold as: a high fantasy adventure that’s equally fun and moving. It’s long, but moves (mostly) quite briskly. It’s also nice to see a film like this actually attempt discussions about respecting nature, something that’d be done again in Princess Mononoke. It’s silly, often screwball, and occasionally emotional, but it never loses its sense of fun. That’s all I can really ask for.

V. Grave of the Fireflies

Now we arrive at Isao Takahata’s first film for Studio Ghibli. Initially, the film was meant to balance Miyazaki’s My Neighbor Totoro, a heartbreaking Ying to an uplifting Yang. The two were even released as a double-billing, on the same day and often in the same theatres. An ambitious idea, but hindsight’s 20-20. Grave of the Fireflies is fondly remembered by fans today, but it was initially avoided like the plague and became a commercial failure.

I also have several issues with it. This isn’t to say that it’s “bad”, or that I don’t enjoy it, but each time I watch it I get the uneasy feeling that it could’ve been so much better. Perhaps the most-frustrating part, aside from its pacing, is that it spoils the ending in its opening. It’s no shocker that Seita and Setsuko don’t make it, that’s not ruining anything. Their unfortunate choices are what cause their demise. Yet by giving away the denouement immediately, only to flashback to how it started, much of the tension’s deflated.

It doesn’t help that the film’s notoriously-slow. Takahata’s biggest drawback has always been how meandering his films can get, and this one’s no exception. It’s not even 90-minutes, and yet it feels much longer. On one hand, this allows you to soak in what’s happening. On the other hand, it’s really tedious to sit through.

I also find some of the plotting monotonous. Most of the middle-act is about food, the lack of it, and the desire to steal more of it to stay alive. In theory, it works: wartime makes decent people amoral. Yet because so much of it’s so repetitive, I find myself getting antsy. That’s not a good sign.

Fortunately, this isn’t to dismiss the film. For all of its flaws, Grave of the Fireflies is beautifully animated and well-scored. The protagonists, Seita and Setsuko, are as likeable as they are real, with plights that make sense. Even when Seita’s pride gets in the way, which it does often, there’s an underlying sense of sympathy. You understand why he behaves the way he does, even though he’s never exonerated.

The film’s saving grave its final 20 minutes. Everything from the doctor’s remark that Setsuko needs food, right up until Seita’s ghost, rather condescendingly, glares down at modern-day Japan, is as effective as it is tragic. It gets me every time, such that Setsuko’s ghost running through the kids’ hiding place, set to “Home, Sweet Home”, is where the tears start. That’s not including the ending, which is equally upsetting.

It’s a shame that Grave of the Fireflies bombed financially, as its legacy has remained quite strong. Ironically, by not being bankrolled though Studio Ghibli’s usual publisher, the film’s also harder to find than the rest of the library. Still, for what it’s worth, it’s deserving of a watch. I wouldn’t call it my favourite from the late-director, but it’s pretty good in its own right.

VI. My Neighbor Totoro

The counter to Grave of the Fireflies’s depressing tone, My Neighbor Totoro feels like a celebration of childhood. It’s weird saying that about a film set in the 1950’s, especially since it’s not a childhood I’m familiar with, but that doesn’t make it less impactful. This is the Studio Ghibli movie I should be saying, “Okay Boomer” the most to…but then I stop and realize that, yeah, I still get it. Because it holds up.

Mei and Satsuki click because they embody different parts of childhood. Mei, being younger, is the early years, while Satsuki is the transition period. While Mei’s busy roaming the backyard and befriending the animals, Satsuki’s trying to help the family despite her busy father and sickly mother. And then, to tie it all together, there’s Totoro, the woodland spirit who helps them out on occasion. He may not appear until a little over 30-minutes in, and he only has a handful of scenes, but he’s managed to become the official mascot of the company.

Perhaps the reason why this movie works is because it grounds its fantasy in realism. Both Totoro, and later the Catbus, are there, and they’re given time to breathe, but they never crowd out the thematically-connected vignettes about a family coping with an ill mother. There’s still time for life at school, home and the hospital, it’s merely infused with a twinge of magic. All-the-better when the plot kicks in the last act, where everything gets heavy and the tears start falling down my cheeks again. Some might call that “forced”, but I call it “reality”.

Whether it’s the now-famous umbrella scene, or when Totoro helps Satsuki and Mei grow their acorns into a tree, there’s no shortage of whimsy and fun here. And at under 90-minutes, it also doesn’t overstay its welcome. My Neighbor Totoro’s like a fun, brief stay at your country cousin’s house: you never know what to expect, and your imagination can’t stop running wild. Bless it for that, even though it nearly tanked Studio Ghibli.

(To be continued.)

Studio Ghibli Retrospective 1

The year was 2010. I was 20, and about to enter my third year of university. Having experienced a strike in my freshman year, a draining Summer holiday and a second year that was equally draining, I was-quite literally-considering dropping out of school. Additionally, I’d lost my post-graduate scholarship, was depressed and had mental health issues that hadn’t been diagnosed yet. In short, my life was a nightmare.

It was also the year that I first watched that copy of Spirited Away that was lying around the house.

I’ve mentioned before how Studio Ghibli has helped me personally, so I won’t rehash that. Yet it’s been 9 years, and given that their biggest name has another film in the pipeline, I figured I’d use December to share how their works have impacted me. I’ll try to keep my thoughts as spoiler-free as possible, though I can’t promise anything.

I. Introduction

Hayao Miyazaki was born on January 5th, 1941 in Tokyo. The second-eldest of four boys, Miyazaki spent much of his childhood with an ailing mother. His father was also an airplane manufacturer, which left an impact on him. But it was his obsession with Manga and animation, particularly that of Walt Disney, that really spoke to him, convincing him to pursue a career in both. He graduated from Gankushuin University with degrees in political science and economics in 1963, eventually coming to Toei Animation as a grunt animator.

Isao Takahata was born on October 29th, 1935 in Ujiyamada. The youngest of seven, Takahata lived through WWII, including the bombing of Okayama. After graduating from Tokyo University with a degree in French literature, in 1959, Takahata was introduced to The King and the Mockingbird. It’s this film that’s said to have sparked his interest in animation, leading him to Toei Animation as well.

I mention these stories as context for how Miyazaki and Takahata met. Despite having different backgrounds, the two eventually collaborated on Takahata’s directorial debut, Hols: Prince of the Sun in 1968 and become lifelong friends. Their friendship would last through several career changes and the eventual founding of Studio Ghibli in 1985. And perhaps that was for the best, as Hols: Prince of the Sun wasn’t the hit Toei wanted and forced both of them to go their own ways.

But that’s okay, because it began what’d culminate in Studio Ghibli’s foundation anyway.

II. The Castle of Cagliostro

This was Hayao Miyazaki’s first feature film. Depsite Miyazaki having well over a decade of animation experience at this point, this is considered his “big break”. Fortunately, unlike Takahata, The Castle of Cagliostro, based on the popular Lupin III series, would fare much better in both reception and sales. But does that mean that it holds up now?

Well…yes. It’s not the best action movie out there, though Steven Spielberg argues otherwise (allegedly), but given what Miyazaki and TMS Animation were able to do in less than a year, and on a tight budget, it’s really impressive. The animation, though limited, is fluid and expressive, the minimalistic music helps with the atmosphere and it’s funny and clever despite being self-contained. It’s also been a big influence on Western animation, including The Great Mouse Detective and Batman: The Animated Series.

That said, the movie took a while to click with me. I bought it at HMV because it had Miyazaki’s name attached, but my initial viewing left me bored and disappointed by how slow and simplistic it was. I nearly turned it off partway, stopping myself only because I felt like giving it a fair chance. I ended up being slightly satisfied, but only subsequent watches have helped me appreciate it for what it is.

I think the little details are what warmed me to it over time. The Castle of Cagliostro’s self-contained, but it has lots of big and little details that make it special. Details like how the castle has clearly-defined geography, or how Lupin’s fake-out ring that he hands back to Lady Clarisse is foreshadowed earlier, can be overlooked the first or second times because of what’s happening on-screen, but they allow for fun tidbits to return to. But there are also noticeable details that grab you immediately, like how Lupin and Jigen are able to defy physics in the opening. That blend of gravity defying stunts and grounded realism allows me to accept wacky injuries and crazy jumps, yet still question Lupin getting over his amnesia so quickly.

That’s the movie in a nutshell: silly, yet fun. I know long-time fans of the series often single it out for deviating from the “Robin Hood-meets-James Bond” style characters are famous for, but I think it works in its favour. Especially with Lupin, who’s been upgraded from predatory goofball to charming thief. It’s not really for everyone, and I still think Goemon is under-utilized, but for what it’s worth, it’s worth a watch. Or maybe even two.

Oh, and Count Cagliostro, one of Miyazaki’s two conventional villains, has a brutal comeuppance.

III. Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind

This film almost didn’t happen. Initially, Hayao Miyazaki pitched a feature-length film to Tokuma Shoten. However, because no one would bankroll an original project, Miyazaki was forced to start a Manga instead. It was only once the partway-completed work was shown again that Miyazaki, now in his 40’s, received the okay to make his film. And he did.

Due to time and budget restraints, Miyazaki chose the first volume-and-a-bit of the Manga. But he was determined, alongside his small team of animators, to make this a reality. So when Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind debuted to critical and fan praise, it was a huge relief. The gamble paid off, and the movie’s still regarded by many as one of his best. Not bad for a budget (allegedly) on-par with an episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender, huh?

There’s a lot to unpack thematically, but the biggest ones are nostalgia and environmentalism. The former is shown mostly through its keyboard and electronica music, composed by Joe Hisaishi, and having a wide-eyed, pacifist princess as the protagonist. Nausicaä could easily wipe out an entire army on her own, but she chooses the path of least resistance. She doesn’t want war, despite it being brought to her by force, but peace. She wants harmony between all races, humans and insects alike, essentially.

The environmental component is a huge part of this movie. It’s easy to be cynical about environmental movies, since they’re usually cheap and hacky in nature, but even in 1984 there was a certain level of nuance and tact to this one’s writing. The film isn’t subtle in its message about protecting the Earth, but it’s layered. It strives for balance while showing how hard that is through antagonists like Princess Kushana, and it succeeds.

Melding everything together is how this movie caters to emotion. Like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, much about the story doesn’t make sense: why was Kushana sent to collect The God Warrior if she knew it couldn’t be taken back to Tolmekkia? How do the Ohmu know how to heal Nausicaä’s wounds if it wasn’t established prior that they could do that? How can the Ohmu read minds? And how is Nausicaä’s Jesus moment at the end, one that’s immediately undermined via a deus ex machina, responsible for fixing the world? You’re never given answers, but your emotions fill in the responses.

Speaking of which, the movie’s draining. Between the moments where people die and Nausicaä cries, expect your tear ducts to be crusted over by the finale. That’s intentional, though, as you’re meant to feel that way. And, in this instance, it doesn’t feel cheap or manipulative.

That’s the best summation I can give: emotionally draining, yet incredibly satisfying. The film, like I said, was a big hit, allowing Hayao Miyazaki to become a household name. But since it was also hampered by a short production, Miyazaki decided it was time to work independently of the studio system. Thus, in 1985, Studio Ghibli was officially founded!

(To be continued.)

Who IS Mr. Rogers?

I didn’t grow up with Mister Roger’s Neighborhood. For one, I’m Canadian. Two, he passed away when I was young. And three, with the exception of a Family Guy gag, I had no idea who he was until later on. Still, having caught some clips of the show in recent years, especially since the release of Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, I really do appreciate, in hindsight, how special Fred Rogers was. He was non-judgemental, and while he definitely had limits, it’s easy to romanticize him because of that. If you want proof, the myth of him having served in the military still circulates from-time-to-time.

I mention this because I was excited when Tom Hanks was announced to be playing the legend in a biopic. Not only do I consider Hanks to be one the greatest living actors in Hollywood, but he really does seem like the best person to play him. So now that A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood has debuted, the question looms: is this the portrayal that Mr. Rogers deserves? Well…yes.

A while back I wrote a critical piece on Joker and how it romanticized mental illness. I shared some dark and unsettling facts about me that I won’t reiterate, but that trauma made me the right candidate to appreciate this story. A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood’s technically a biopic about the children’s television performer, but it’s not really about him. Instead, he’s a catalyst for the real protagonist, a miserable journalist with a scarred past, to reconcile his own pain. In truth, Fred Rogers is a supporting character in his own story.

And yet, it works. It works because it never romanticizes Mr. Rogers, even reinforcing how he had to work on his kindness and compassion, but it also highlights the effect he had on people. I strongly think this movie wouldn’t have been as effective otherwise. That, and the protagonist, Lloyd Vogel, has a far more relatable character arc. Seriously, he’s great.

That’s the beauty of the late-Mr. Rogers: that he could heal people by showing them empathy. Lloyd starts off in an uncomfortable place, coloured by the broken relationship with his father. The movie even begins with Mr. Rogers asking a question: can you forgive someone when they’ve hurt you on the inside? Even though Lloyd’s father’s never resolved of his past, the movie suggests that the answer is “perhaps”.

It’s probably why I was so deeply moved. For one, family complications are universal. You know that saying, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family”? Ignoring semantics, it’s true: so many of us are born to less-than-perfect situations with people who may love us, but aren’t good at showing it. For some, they can’t seem to show it all. And even in healthy families, there’s always some kind of underlying tension.

And two, we’ve all been Lloyd. We’ve all had squabbles, big or small, with those close to us. Some of us have been able to smooth it out. Others, well…they weren’t so fortunate. Given how many families won’t even talk to one-another, it’s easy to see why Lloyd doesn’t trust his dad. It’s that relatability that really makes his struggle to be open and honest about his pain, even around Fred Rogers, so personal.

Yet that’s okay. It’s okay to have these feelings. It’s okay to be frustrated. Because that’s human. And anything human is manageable. Even mortality, which is something that’s brought frequently, is no exception.

Of course, the movie also uses clever techniques to help familiarize the audience with Mr. Roger’s world. Whenever he’s performing his show, the aspect ratio changes. And all of the scenery shots, moments that’d normally be reserved for second-unit cameras and stock footage, are painstakingly rendered to look like the background sets of Mister Roger’s Neighborhood. The film even shows how they were made in the credits.

But the message about self-acceptance and love really makes this movie wonderful. People are flawed, and they can sometimes hurt one another in unsettling ways. Fortunately, that can be mended if all parties are willing to put their pride aside and try. Even Mr. Rogers acknowledges his own struggles with his family, suggesting that he too wasn’t perfect. That’s not something I expected from this movie.

I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot, but it goes without saying that A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood is great. It’s not without flaws, parts of it feel like a Hallmark movie, but that’s not enough to drag it down. It’s touching, it’s heartbreaking, it’s sweet and it’s uplifting. And it gives you new perspective on one of the world’s greatest men to ever live. This is the movie that, despite being a biopic, actually gets you thinking amidst the tears. That pretty much speaks for itself.

*****

Apologies for interjecting with another update, but my retrospective series is Scheduled in Blogger. Expect a new entry every 4 days, with the finale in-time for New Year’s Eve. I figured that’d not only give me the time to post other pieces in-between, but also help you absorb each entry. Look forward to it, and I’ll see you next time!

Lukewarm on Frozen II?

2013 was terrible for movies. There was the odd gem here and there, but until Oscar Season, a little over ¾ of the way in, you’d be hard-pressed to find many tentpole releases that were anything special. Nowhere was this more-apparent than in the animated film department, as most of them were, to put it bluntly, mediocre-to-awful. I actually saved money that year, which was disappointing because movies are a favourite past-time of mine. They’ve been one for a while now.

Perhaps that explains much of the popularity of Frozen, which debuted in November of 2013 and shattered many box office records. It was so big that “Let It Go” became a hot song for several years, to the annoyance of many. It was so big that it also upset fans of The Wind Rises by winning the Oscar for Best Animated Feature in March of 2014. There was no stopping it, and it remains the highest-grossing animated movie to-date (barring The Lion King remake). It was a juggernaut, and its impact can be felt in how the sequel, which released last week, was marketed as a darker follow-up.

I was always curious how Frozen II would actually fare as its own movie. It had a daunting task, following up one of the biggest events of the past decade, and the odds were against it from the get-go. Would it live up to what its predecessor had to offer? Or would it fall flat on its face instead? Ultimately, the answer appears to be a bit of both.

Frozen II takes place three years after Frozen. In this time, Queen Elsa has been doing a good job ruling Arendelle. Yet lately she’s been plagued by a voice that won’t leave her alone. What’s worse, this voice is gaslighting her, making her wonder if she’s imagining it. When it finally becomes so powerful that it puts Arendelle in danger, she, together with Anna, Kristoff, Sven and Olaf, decides to figure out what’s going on.

There’s a lot of great content here that expands on the lore of the first film. The animation looks amazing, with an attention to detail in the environments that could only be possible with CGI. The voice acting’s excellent, feeling like a homecoming for everyone. The songs are also really good, and I’m positive that “Into the Unknown” will overtake “Let It Go” as the most-sung Disney tune at karaoke bars. And I like the characters, especially with how they expand the lore.

The problems come with the movie’s plotting and themes. Both are solid on their own, but in execution they feel incomplete. There’s an excellent story about the sins of the past in relation to colonialism, but I don’t feel like the filmmakers had enough confidence to go all the way. It leaves me wanting.

Perhaps the best example is the film’s ending. It isn’t even a bad way to end the movie, either: it ties together everything that’s been built up prior, and it resolves most of the thematic plot threads. But, without ruining too much, it’s too clean. It even falls into the same, anticlimactic trap its predecessor suffered from, though to a lesser-extent, of a character presumed dead coming back. I like how it moves its protagonists forward in positive ways, akin to Ralph Breaks the Internet, but I still feel it left little to the imagination. I know it’s a Disney movie, but being more open-ended with some of its plot threads could’ve made for a better experience.

Some of its side-threads are also there to create unneeded tension. The most-obvious is Kristoff’s solo number. Not only is it out-of-place, feeling more like a Queen ballad, but it’s unnecessary. These are several minutes that could’ve been better spent elsewhere. Though I guess it’s worth it if it means watching Kristoff bounce off of Sven?

I honestly feel bad for even pointing these issues out, since the parts that work do so beautifully. But I can’t lie: Frozen II’s a mixed bag. It’s good enough, and I definitely think it’s worth watching, but considering that even my grandparents, who are averse to animated films, watched Frozen in theatres, I’m worried that the sequel might be a victim of its own legacy; after all, how could you top one of the biggest surprises of the 2010’s?

*****

So I think an update is in order now. Firstly, my decision to cut back on content last month helped with my burnout. Even though my blog suffered in Views, something I’m still struggling with, it gave me time to think of new ideas for The Whitly-Verse. Now that I’m back on-track, I can gear up for my next project…

…Which leads me to an announcement: this December will be themed! What about? You can check the Pinned Tweet on my Twitter profile for the answer. But it was an ambitious undertaking nonetheless. I only hope I can figure out how to pace it so it doesn’t overwhelm everyone. I know my series on the Smash Bros. games did...

Anyway, take care, and I’ll see you all next time!

Quit Jerkin' Me Around!

How’s Disney+ been treating you? I haven’t subscribed yet, I can’t afford another streaming service right now, but it seems to be a big hit…outside of lacking certain titles. And cropping shows. And how it crashed on launch day. Come to think of it, is it worth getting Disney+ right now?

Either way, for as happy as I am that people are talking about The Mandalorian (no spoilers!), I’m a little miffed at the anti-Disney snark floating around the internet again. To be fair, anti-Disney snark’s nothing new. And I’m not innocent, either. But in light of the critiques, I have to wonder if a lot of this is reactionary or toxic. (It’s probably both.)

Now, I grew up on Disney content. I was born in 1990, during The Disney Renaissance, so it was easy viewing material. I remember wearing out my VHS tape of The Little Mermaid from overwatch, and many of my VHS covers have bite-marks from young me chewing on them. I still have a Perdita plushie from when I was 4, and she’s seen lots of love. I even remember seeing Toy Story in theatres at a birthday party, and it made an impact. In short, Disney was a big part of my childhood!

I mention this not to sound biased, though I probably am, but to understand where I’m coming from. Disney was a part of my formative years, and even now I enjoy much of their output. But I’m not a blind fan. I don’t worship the ground they walk on, and I’ve been critical of their business decisions. I’ve even avoided movies they’ve made that didn’t interest me, including many of their recent live-action remakes. So when I mention “Disney snark”, it’s not like I don’t understand it.

That said, it still bums me out that so many people are vehemently anti-Disney. And not in a “Disney’s a monopolistic corporation” kind of way, though that’s true. I’m talking in a “Disney’s a monopolistic corporation, therefore you shouldn’t support them” kind of way. Also, I’m talking in a “Disney’s a monopolistic corporation, so we’re gonna make you feel miserable for supporting them” kind of way. Both of those attitudes aren’t only unhelpful, they’re actively harmful.

And I hear them constantly. Whenever Disney exceeds, it leads to a reminder that they’re evil. Whenever they swallow another entity, there are guilt trips lobbed at fans for being “part of the problem”. And whenever they fail, the “Karma Police” are on full-force. It’s never-ending.

Why are so many of the anti-Disney individuals self-righteous anyway? So Disney’s shady? I’ve got news for you: all corporations are. So Disney’s made decisions that’ve been “wrong”? Again, so have all companies. It doesn’t mean blindly defending the firing of James Gunn over old Tweets he’s long since apologized for, but it doesn’t mean that I’m Satan for still watching MCU films. There are more-effective ways of expressing your frustrations than making people miserable.

Also, what happened to “There’s no ethical consumption under Capitalism”? If everything we consume is mired in some form of dishonesty, then shouldn’t that apply to “purer forms of art” too? This doesn’t mean not advocating for change, but sitting back and condemning people who watch Disney media as a form of escapism doesn’t help your cause. If anything, you’re a jerk.

Look, life sucks. Work’s hard, politicians are corrupt, we’re depleting natural resources at an alarming rate, and attempts at advocating for change are met with disdain by those with power. Between fighting for equal rights and wanting a better tomorrow, we occasionally need to relax and recharge. Entertainment does that. And for many people, that’s in the form of Disney content. Why, then, are people making Disney fans feel guilty over that? Isn’t it hypocritical? Isn’t it self-righteous?

It’d be so much easier to improve the world if we stopped being jerks over stuff we have no control over. And yeah, Disney isn’t saintly. Between their monopolistic practices, their worker abuse, their constant attempts at whitewashing their shady past, their attempts at performative wokeness presently, or even how they had ties to The Trump Campaign, Disney has, and will continue to have, lots to answer for in their backlog. I won’t claim otherwise. But if we’re not on the same page about how people are still entitled to enjoy Disney content from-time-to-time, especially if it’s well-made, then why even bother fighting for change? What good will that do?

For as much as we strive to make the world better, we should never deprive people of their happiness. Whether it’s letting an activist buy a Starbucks drink, or letting people who can’t drive Uber to a union strike, or-yes-even letting people unhappy with the state of the film industry enjoy a Disney film, there’s enough anger that a little joy is needed too. So let someone have that, okay? Life’s way too precious for people to be dicks, even over Disney content.

Junk Drawer: Nazis, Streamers and Predators

Contemplation in 3…2...1…GO!

I finally saw Jojo Rabbit in theatres. This was after waiting weeks for its official release window. It seemed like a movie that’d get people talking, especially after it was almost shelved. Plus, it was a satirical drama about Nazi Germany, one showing said Nazis as reckless, incompetent oafs! What’s not to love?

Naturally, it was really enjoyable. I wouldn’t call it amazing, I don’t think it’s as good as the director’s previous movie, but it definitely did the trick. It even harkened back to The Producers on some levels, originating from the mind of a Jew and mocking the pretentiousness of Hitlerism without feeling vapid. That’s not to everyone’s liking, but I dug it!

I think the film’s biggest draw, aside from its premise, is that it melds sympathy with mockery expertly. Holocaust movies are so often super-serious, as they’re award-grabbers, but Jojo Rabbit takes the opposite approach. And yet it’s equally compelling: you loathe what comes out of Jojo’s mouth, as well as some of his decisions, but the movie never stops reminding you that he’s a kid. He’s as much a product of brainwashing as he is struggling to find his way. So even while you laugh at how ignorant he sounds, you still understand why he sounds that way.

This is also what one of Jojo Rabbit’s contemporaries, Inglourious Basterds, failed at. I’ve made no secret that I’m not terribly fond of that movie, and part of that’s because it makes me uncomfortable. The movie wants me to cheer at the carnage of Nazis because “evil”, but I don’t find that they behave like Nazis at all. I, honestly, think that the Jewish heroes are more Nazi-like in that film.

Jojo Rabbit never has that issue. It’s a farce that’s often funny, sometimes moving and occasionally unsettling. It knows what it is, in order words. And it has a Jew playing Jojo’s imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler. You have to admire how gutsy that is.

Did you hear the one about Disney+? Yeah, it’s coming out in under a week! And it’s only $7 US a month! Isn’t that crazy? I think so!

There’s been a lot of talk about Disney+ ever since it was officially unveiled at The D23 Expo. Finally, a streaming service curated for Disney content! And for such a steal! This’d sound like something novel…were it not for Netflix already existing. And Amazon Prime. And soon to be HBO Max, not to mention the dozens of other services.

Honestly, I’m concerned. Ignoring how the three services that appeal to me most-Netflix, Disney+ and HBO Max-cost approximately $35 a month US when combined, the range of options makes keeping up with everything so…well, tedious. It’s good to have competition, yes, but this much? Do these platforms all expect to do well, or only a few? Because I’m not so sure.

It doesn’t help that, aside from killing cable, it makes physical media even more obsolete than it is. Not that I’m complaining, physical media can definitely be a hassle, but there’s something pristine about owning a proprietary format. Not to mention, there’s the issue of ownership. It makes me long for the days of rental chains, as at least you got to ask people for recommendations. And at least you knew you were holding a physical copy of something, limitations and all.

I long for the days of that simplicity. I get that this is where home entertainment is headed, and I can see a few advantages, but it’s not the same as having access to everything with the press of a remote. I was never a fan of how cable packages added useless channels as part of their bundles, but at least you weren’t paying up-the-wazoo for it. Given that the median wage in The US is still $7.25 an hour, charging for all of these streamers separately could also be a deterrent. But I guess that’s capitalism, right?

Speaking of Disney+, I have to mention Jeff Goldblum. Yes, that loveable, huggable Jeff Goldblum. The Jeff Goldblum who, like Christopher Walken and William Shatner, has vocal affectations that are so wacky you can’t help but laugh and enjoy them simultaneously. Yeah, Jeff Goldblum is so-wait, what?! HE DID WHAT?!

Yeah, Jeff Goldblum’s been the talk of the town lately. And not for good reasons, either. In an interview with i newspaper, the Hollywood star much stated that Woody Allen, a man who married his then-underaged daughter, deserves the benefit of the doubt when it comes to the sexual allegations lobbed his way. If that’s not bad enough, he’s also had recent allegations of his own.

Me Too is a tough and often-misunderstood issue, even though it shouldn’t be, so this needs stressing: it’s not about shamelessly lighting fires under famous people’s butts. Victims, women specifically, have nothing to gain, especially in a world where they’re often not believed by the public at large. While some allegations have turned out to be false, most are rooted in genuine frustrations. They’re also rooted in anger at the public for not doing anything.

I know because I’m also a victim of sexual assault. I won’t reiterate my story, but it’s annoying that so many people have written off my trauma. It as if they don’t care, and that hurts. It really does. So I understand why so many people still feel helpless.

Either way, Jeff Goldblum has a lot to answer for. I know he’s slated for a Disney+ documentary series, but, like with John Lasseter and his intros to certain Studio Ghibli films, I can’t watch it now without feeling dirty. I don’t like that, as I’ve always thought of Goldblum as the perfect narrator. But I guess life hates me, so…

I also feel really awful for his victims, assuming these allegations are true, as to be expected. People routinely mention how draining and toxic Hollywood culture is, and this is why. If predators can attack the vulnerable and get away with it, then why bother dealing with entertainment? Why bother doing anything, honestly? What’s the point when people cheat to get ahead?

So yes, goodbye Jeff Goldblum. Goodbye to his filmography, goodbye to his jokes, and especially goodbye to his funny vocal affectations. Goodbye in general, and good riddance! Maybe now we can find female equivalents that are less creepy? I’d like that.

That about wraps up another Junk Drawer episode. Thanks for reading, as always, and I’ll see you next time!

My Toxic, Chemical Romance

For my last piece, I deconstructed a really toxic debate over the artistic merits of Marvel movies. In it, I mentioned why I thought the back-and-forth was reductive. I still think that, though it hasn’t exactly “died down” since. Yet there was another claim that was mentioned that didn’t get as much coverage, and that’s courtesy of director Pedro Almodóvar. In an interview with Vulture, he outright stated that Marvel movies “lack sexuality”.

There’s a lot to unpack, but it’s worth noting that Almodóvar didn’t say these movies were “bad” or “boring”. He did, however, say that they were “neutered” because they lacked romance and sex scenes. The characters kiss, on occasion, and are in relationships, but we never see them bed one-another (with the exception of Iron Man). They never actually become intimate. And, according to Almodóvar, that’s a flaw.

A “lack of sex” in newer movies isn’t a new complaint. One of my local newspapers wrote an entire editorial (which I can’t find anymore) on this a while back. Additionally, it was lobbed at director Makoto Shinkai’s work by one of the biggest pioneers in the anime industry. Sex, at least in entertainment, is “dying out”. But is that necessarily bad?

Sexuality in film has been a rollercoaster of highs and lows. Initially, in the medium’s heyday, edgy and innovative filmmakers constantly tested the waters to see what they could get away with. This eventually caught the attention of purists, which led to The Hays Code. The Hays Code is complicated and worthy of its own discussion, but one of its restrictions was that it made open displays of sexuality, with the exception of Biblical epics, forbidden. This was eventually abandoned following the collapse of Old Hollywood in the 1960’s, and the chastity belt was removed.

But there was a problem. Like any unhealthy restriction being dropped, the outcomes were unpredictable. Filmmakers, no longer bound by The Hays Code, started experimenting in extreme ways, which was supported by the institution of a film ratings system. Additionally, because an entire generation of filmmakers had grown up not seeing sexuality on film, they turned to foreign cinema for inspiration. As a result, sex started popping up left, right and centre.

I mention this because sex was less of a form of creative expression, and more a weapon of-what else-masculine dominance (because of course!). Films routinely showed men aggressively living out their desires with women because they could. And it was encouraged, with these men being portrayed as heroes/sympathetic despite their behaviour. This went on for decades, and the shockwaves can be felt even now.

So why did it stop? Well, a few factors. Firstly, new voices, many of them women, started popping up. It’s true that female voices in film aren’t exactly “new”, they’ve been there since its inception, but they were largely muted presences. Yet with the turn of the century came a desire for outspoken voices, and they weren’t happy with sex in film. It even boiled over following Me Too gaining footing in late-2017, highlighting the issues festering behind-the-scenes too.

Secondly, the target demographic of film changed. Initially, it got younger, thanks to teenagers and young adults now having disposable incomes. Then it transitioned to families, because these young audiences were now raising kids. It only makes sense that film, which is as much a business as an art-form, would evolve. Like the saying goes: “adapt, or die”.

Thirdly, and this is the probably biggest point, the internet age has led to online pornography democratizing the landscape. Sites like PornHub took the porn industry, which was once underground, mainstream, letting anyone with a computer live out their fantasies for cheap. Movies didn’t need to be “sexy” anymore, the internet was doing the legwork for them. And sex slowly started fizzling out as a result.

Which leads back to Almodóvar’s point: does Marvel lack sex? With the exception of the shows on Netflix, probably. But does it require sex? Probably not. And is that necessarily bad? Not really, because it’s not all that matters.

To be frank, I’m also relieved that traditional sex scenes are gone. A lot of them were really toxic and unhealthy anyway, and they kept sending out bad messages. For men, the implication was that “sex was a right of manhood”, while women were meant to fulfill that even when they didn’t want to. And while it’s true that movies aren’t inherently responsible for bad behaviour, they do set a precedent that can have real-world impacts. It’s happened before.

Does this mean sex in film is “dead forever”? No. It’s thriving in indie films, with some directors, allegedly, consulting experts to make their sex scenes more authentic. But I also think that sex scenes will make a comeback on their own. If The Hays Code swung the pendulum to one extreme, and its dismantling swung it to another extreme, then this is the pendulum beginning to normalize. We’ll definitely see sex scenes return, and this time they’ll reflect how sex should really be done. Not to mention, they’ll present alternative forms of sex that were long-considered taboo, like BDSM.

Also, why does Marvel need to be sexy? Ignoring beefcake/cheesecake fan-service, of which there’s no shortage, claiming that kid’s movies need to be “sexy” to be good is dishonest. You can be mature in other ways, as evidenced by Disney, Pixar and Dreamworks dominating the animated film scene. Sex is merely one facet of that, and, as I’ve stated above, it hasn’t been done properly for a long time. This is something that Almodóvar needs to understand, assuming he doesn’t.

But I guess, if all else fails, we’ll always have DeviantArt and Tumblr fan-fictions for that, right?