Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Skeleton Crew Assemble!

Star Wars was meant for kids. We can argue semantics about what that meant in 1977 forever, but George Lucas himself has stated that. It makes sense, as many of the early fans were children, and the goofy tone of the franchise, even during serious moments, lends perfectly to them. So it’s weird that so few Star Wars stories have starred children. Then again, that’s probably a byproduct of the franchise being spearheaded by adults...


Enter Skeleton Crew. The latest entry in the expanded Star Wars universe, this 8-episode series follows four pre-teens-Wim, Neel, Fern and KB-on their adventure after accidentally leaving their home of At Attan. Along the way, they encounter pirates desperate to steal their planet’s treasure, as well as a mysterious Force user with unclear motivations. Desperate to return to At Attan, and completely out of their element, our protagonists must make tough decisions and learn harsh truths about their planet. After all, what’s so special about At Attan, and why’s everyone after its treasure?

I loved this show. Even from Episode 1, I already knew it was something special. I know Star Wars as a franchise is risk-averse, preferring to stick with pre-established lore, but every now and then it experiments. Skeleton Crew’s one of those experiments, reclaiming Star Wars for the youth and having its world played out from their perspective. It sounds strange saying this, but that’s refreshing. It’s basically an 80’s Amblin Entertainment story in Star Wars clothes.

I’m not kidding about that last part. Aside from show-runner Jon Watts being a fan of youth storytelling, something that made him perfect for tackling Spider-Man, this show was inspired by classic kid’s movies from the 80’s, The Goonies specifically. This inspiration rears its head constantly, but I’d argue there’s a healthy amount of Treasure Island here also. It’s a story about pirates, after all! That’s not something I thought would fit well with Star Wars, but it does.

Arguably the emotional centre’s the four leads. Each one’s so well-actualized that you can split them into pairings, which the show does constantly, and know how they’ll interact before they do. My favourite character’s KB, the part-droid brainiac who hides behind her intellect to mask her disabilities and limitations. She reminds me of myself at that age, always retreating into entertainment and literature to distract from being unable to fit in with peers. Not only does everyone else not demean her, but she quickly becomes a valuable member of the group due to her ability to think on her feet. I admire that.

I like how the leads’ parents play a critical role too. It’s easy for children empowerment fantasies to remove the adult figures, but this one avoids doing that. After all, the protagonists are kids! They need the emotional support of parental figures, even if said figures don’t always understand or respect them. Besides, adults can be useful, despite what children sometimes believe.

Speaking of which, the antagonists being adult pirates, while somewhat cliché, is fitting. Star Wars is a franchise filled with shady rogues, so why not include pirates? It’s not like they don’t already exist in this universe, and exploring their hierarchy’s an interesting take on this trope. I also like how one of the pirates is a Force user, leading to questions about his past that get slowly answered. He’s the most morally-ambiguous character for most of the runtime, gradually becoming more evil.

I could go on forever about what works. I could mention that the score from Mick Giacchino evokes a pirate-y feel. I could talk about how great the character designs and costumes are. I could even say how great it is for a Star Wars series focused around kids not to condescend them. But while all of that’s true, I think Skeleton Crew’s existence is a welcome breath of fresh air, and it deserves to be watched more.

Skeleton Crewhasn’t been doing well ratings-wise. The reviews have been stellar, but it doesn’t seem like many people are interested. Given Star Wars diehards unfairly killed The Acolyte, leaving it on a cliffhanger, because it was different, I’m worried that this show not gaining traction will signal that fans don’t want risks. That’d be upsetting, since they’ve caved to a vocal minority before.

It's also upsetting because this show’s fantastic. It’s every bit as good as Andor, arguably more so because its pacing isn’t needlessly-slow and drawn out. But I’ve made my thoughts on Andor known, so I won’t repeat myself. Though I stand by what I said. (If you disagree, power to you.)

I want this show to do well. And I want more unique and ambitious stories like it in the Star Wars universe. It’s not like there isn’t room for experimentation! This franchise is so rich in lore that, to paraphrase a friend, even the smaller stories have the tendency to rival The Avengers in scope and ambition. Because they really do. Skeleton Crew’s proof of that.

Please see this show. It has everything that makes Star Wars great: a good story? Check. Likeable leads? Check. Authentic stakes? Check, check, check! What more do you want?

Saturday, January 11, 2025

My Mega Memories

Growing up, my parents didn’t buy me and my brothers new video games often. We got them occasionally, but considering the cost of Jewish day school and living, they were an expensive hobby. Whenever my brothers and I received one, it was something we couldn’t complain about. It didn’t matter if it was complete garbage, we had to make the best of it. Many of my earliest memories with video games, therefore, were of learning to appreciate trash and quality-alike.


Every once in a while, however, we’d encounter a game that was excellent. Such was the case of Mega Man II on the Game Boy. I spotted it on sale in a discount bin at a pawn shop after going out for lunch, and I pointed it out to my younger brother. We then took it home and tried it out on our Game Boy Color, and the rest was history. There was something special about booting up the game and listening to the opening theme. Even now it reminds me of a funeral dirge, but a charming one. And the game was great.

It was also really difficult. I’ve written about this before, but one of the issues I have with older video games is how challenging and unfair they are. Perhaps it was due to limitations, but for however short older games were, they were equally as difficult. Mega Man II was no exception, especially since the Game Boy had a reduced screen and draw distance. The fact that this game was ported to a handheld at all was a miracle, even if it had to find clever workarounds to meet its capabilities. Among these included showing four levels at once, as well as everything being zoomed in.

I didn’t know this at the time, though. I was too busy learning the ropes and making mistakes, constantly jotting down different passwords on scraps of discarded paper. Eventually I learned which levels to play first, as well as which upgrades worked with each boss. It took plenty of trial and error, but I completed the first four levels and discovered a new area. My hopes were dashed, however, when I realized said area wasn’t for Dr. Wiley, but a new hub for four levels and bosses. I was pissed.

That anger quickly subsided. It’s easy to laugh at how naïve I was, but I didn’t know! It was the late-90’s, and the internet was a fee-for-use service with limitations. We also used landlines to connect, and waiting to go online was frequently delayed or interrupted by outages, weather hazards, or someone making a phone call. Since the internet was as much a novelty as a new game, I had to persist through my frustrations.

Anyway, I learned an important lesson about not trusting that Game Boy titles were automatically complete because I’d cleared a screen of immediate enemies. It acclimated me to how Mega Man II operated on the Game Boy, splitting the game’s eight bosses into two groups of four to not overwhelm the system. Other than that, I had no complaints. I’d beaten the 1st four bosses, so how hard could the 2nd four be? Not too hard, though not exactly a cakewalk.

Fast-forward several more months, and I’d finally completed both hubs and gained all of the necessary power-ups. I was ready for Dr. Wiley! Nothing would get in my way now, right? Right?! Well…

To date, I’ve yet to beat Dr. Wiley in Mega Man II. I tried, I even came close several times, but I always ended up either dying, or running out of power-ups. Dr. Wiley, in my childhood mind, was also really cheap and unfair, throwing wrenches in my strategies right as I was gaining the upper hand. It didn’t help that my brothers managed to beat him, leading to personal insecurity. What was I doing wrong?

As it turns out, nothing. My brain works differently, processing tasks slower than most. But I was devastated that I was falling behind as the middle sibling with a limited social circle. I couldn’t share my successes and frustrations with my peers because they were uncomfortable around me, so I relied on hearsay and my own failures. Not beating Dr. Wiley was another example of that, and it stung.

As my failures kept piling, I finally gave up and moved on. It didn’t help that our Game Boy Color had broken from being dropped on the ground, and that our Game Boy Advance couldn’t do the game justice because of its lack of a backlight. I’m also pretty sure I lost the game, not bothering to search for it because the Game Boy Advance had “better games” that I was more interested in. So long, Mega Man II! For a while, at least.

It wasn’t until university, when I became a writer on ScrewAttack, that my interest in Mega Man II for the Game Boy returned. This time, it wasn’t to play it, but rather write about it. I remember reminiscing about my experiences as part of a weekly writing theme, even having my piece highlighted in a video from a fellow g1. It gave closure to my childhood memories and its importance growing up. Sadly, ScrewAttack no longer exists...

But that doesn’t mean I can’t write about the game, especially now as an adult. After all, Mega Man II’s currently on Nintendo Switch Online for the Game Boy. And replaying it briefly has reminded me that while I’m no longer 9 years old, I still remember the game fondly. It may not excite me the way it once did, especially since I don’t have the time or patience to “get good”, but that doesn’t mean I don’t cherish my memories of fighting Dr. Wiley and failing…constantly.

At least the opening theme’s great.

Wednesday, January 8, 2025

Lions and Hedgehogs

Let’s be clear: I haven’t seen Mufasa: The Lion King. It doesn’t look appealing to me, and no one involved seemed fully-invested (even the director). It also reeked of retconning a backstory into something that didn’t exactly need one, and being a photorealistic prequel to a remake of a beloved movie comes off as sloppier thirds to sloppy seconds. I know the music’s memorable, but The Lion King’s best left alone. We good? Good.


I did, however, see Sonic the Hedgehog 3 in theatres. It wasn’t fantastic, but it was enjoyable. The acting was solid, Jim Carrey’s Dr. Robotnik’s growing on me, and the emotional moments definitely resonated. It’s the best so far in the trilogy, even if it doesn’t have much to offer for those who aren’t Sonic fans. Again, we good? Good.

Despite both movies doing well at the box-office, a faux-rivalry’s been conjured up. Now, far be it for me to rip the success of the movies. I may not care for most of Disney’s live-action remakes, but movies need not be great to be meaningful. (I like The Star Wars Prequels, after all!) If Mufasa: The Lion King made you happy, power to you! But a rivalry? Why?!

Truthfully, this is unnecessary. Specifically, this forced rivalry’s unnecessary. Because it’s not a true rivalry. This isn’t “Barbenheimer”, where both movies were released simultaneously, happened to be good and made tons of money. This is a fabricated rivalry from edge-lords who think whining about Disney (again) is good for views.

These sorts of rivalries are as exhausting as they are watching them fade into irrelevancy. Remember, it’s Disney. They’re a conglomerate conceived to make children’s entertainment. You have to be empty inside to be mad about that. Are you empty inside? Please say you aren’t…

Even if you are, deconstructing this nonsense is tiresome. It’s not like Disney lacks real issues worth chastising. They routinely scrub their artists of ambition and passion, and they rarely challenge the status quo. They’re conservative politically, dragging their feet on hot topics in the name of not offending anyone. And their good stuff usually feels corporate.

Nevertheless, creating narratives about how “Disney’s dying”, this time through a rivalry with an equally-corporate brand, completely misses the forest for the trees. Because Disney’s not dying. Their corporate interests are doing solid numbers, and they’ve experienced worse. Have you seen their output from the 70’s and 80’s? It’s not something I’d wish on my worst enemy.

I get the inclination with Sonic to be competitive. Sonic was created to compete with Mario, a Bugs Bunny to Nintendo’s Mickey Mouse. Whereas Mario was conventional and even-tempered, Sonic was edgy and hot-headed. Mario was quieter, Sonic louder. Even the styles of platforming differed, with Mario being calculated side-scrolling and Sonic being about living in the moment. Sonic, by his nature, shows off.

But while that might’ve been the case in the 90’s, it’s not true now. Sonic hasn’t been a mainstay for Sega since the Dreamcast was in circulation. He’s been cross-platform for longer than he was culturally-relevant, with most of his games being mixed-qualitatively. Even his rivalry against Mario has dissipated, replaced with friendly competition on numerous occasions. If anything, Mario’s bigger rival currently is Master Chief, and not by much.

By turning Sonic the Hedgehog 3 and Mufasa: The Lion King into another Sonic VS Mario, you’re boarding a ship that’s long since sunk. It’s not only a dead rivalry, it’s an embarrassing one. Especially since these are properties for children. I’d understand if little kids were competing over these movies, not adults. And I doubt kids care.

I think those touting this rivalry have too much free time. There are real issues going on in the world. Ukraine’s at a stalemate with Russia. Israel’s been fighting a war against Hamas for well over a year now. The soon-to-be POTUS wants to annex my home country and impose tariffs. The world’s a complete mess without imposing a nonsensical film rivalry on movies that are doing fine at the box-office. I know it’s fun taking shots at The House of Mouse, but there are bigger fish to fry.

Basically, I implore people to get a life. And I implore them to get it soon. It’s not like there won’t be reasons to criticize Disney in the future. There will be, and I’ll be right there in line myself. But as it stands currently, fabricating a rivalry between two movies for children isn’t the best use of your time. It actually makes you look desperate.

Finally, I want to reiterate that while I may have saddled my horse in this race, that doesn’t mean I bear ill-will to Disney. Specifically, I don’t bear ill-will to those who take comfort in Disney’s live-action remakes. I’ve liked a few of their early entries, and the world’s too chaotic and scary to be that judgemental. If you like these movies, power to you! Besides, me calling you out would, like I said, be hypocritical and unfair. So long as you’re not a dick to me, I won’t be a dick to you. Fair?

Saturday, January 4, 2025

Movies and Colours

One of the realizations I’ve had as an adult is that artistic concepts that excited me when I was younger don’t anymore: photorealism? It might look neat, but The Uncanny Valley exists too. Manga Iconography? The human face and body are already expressive. Tasteless violence? My stomach can only handle so much. However, nothing’s more disappointing than realizing that overly-bright and flashy colours hurt my eyes.


Unfortunately, that last point’s an anomaly among film enthusiasts. I’ve heard complaints and seen many videos about how Hollywood’s lost its colour, becoming darker and desaturated. It’s not like there isn’t merit here, especially when it’s impossible to see anything, but I think these complaints are overblown. I think complaining specifically about colour’s absence in modern filmmaking ignores how that isn’t the only component to movie storytelling. Let me explain.

It's important to look at where this started. Back in the mid/late-90’s, as it was becoming commonplace, filmmakers were overusing CGI left-right-and-centre. Not only did most of it look ugly, but much of it doesn’t hold up. And with that overuse of CGI, there was an additional problem of the visuals clashing with the actors and sets. How do you strike a balance?

The answer came from studying the colour wheel. Brighter colours need to be balanced with darker ones, or they’re distracting. The easy solution for bright, flashy CGI was to implement tints that cushioned everything. It’s why modern films look different than older ones, having a “film-like” feel. It doesn’t matter the genre or style, that tint’s used with almost every movie released nowadays. The exceptions seem to be in animation, but we’ll get there.

This filmic hue, especially as filmmaking went digital, became the norm, “fixing” the colour clashing of CGI. But then a different problem arose: if you’re using a tint to make the colours less distracting, can this tint be a distraction too? One of the chief complaints of modern filmmaking is how desaturated it is, such that it’s impossible to see any tactile personality. This is one of the many aspects people have criticized The MCU for.

I’ll point out that I’m no expert in colour theory. Nor am I an expert on what clashes. The walls of my room are blue and yellow, and dark at that. Additionally, I mishmash clothes without a thought to how they look. I don’t care that much about colour consistency. It might sound childish, but colours don’t have as much meaning. In fact, blue’s my favourite colour because it looks cool, not because of any deep attachment.

So yeah, I’m not the best judge of colours, something compounded by brighter ones hurting my eyes. But it’s that lack of attachment that I think makes me a better judge of colour in modern movies. Because I’m not picky. As long as I can make out what I’m watching, I don’t care how desaturated the film is. I might be in the minority, but I don’t think it matters.

Perhaps that’s for the best. I majored in English in university, and my personal attachment to movies lies in their scripting. I care more about dialogue and blocking than whether or not something looks vibrant, and that extends to CGI. I’m less interested in whether or not wardrobes clash than if the character’s speech patterns are consistent, and I’m open to exceptions for thematic coherency. Colour’s at #12 on my list of priorities, if that. And the modern trend of colour desaturation, for the most part, doesn’t bother me as much.

Besides, there are aspects of a film you can overlook and still enjoy it. Colour grading’s one of them. It still matters, don’t get me wrong, as the right hues can help advance the story, but I think people are also overreacting when it’s not the end of the world. Yes, improper colour grading can lead to racism in storytelling, particularly with how certain hues are short-hands for stereotypes. Yes, being too dark visually is also a problem, especially when you can’t see anything. Yet this fixation on “desaturation = bad storytelling” isn’t only a misnomer, it’s dishonest.

Even still, excessively-bright isn’t any better. Perhaps it’s a personal issue, but whenever colours are too strong, I get headaches. I can’t handle the over-saturation of colours because I’m not 12 years old anymore. Whenever desaturation comes up in conversation, I roll my eyes and bite my tongue, lest I cause a scene. But I don’t care.

The only exception is animation. Perhaps it’s that animated movies are designed from scratch, as opposed to being blended with real lighting and actors, but I don’t mind the brighter colours in them. In fact, I welcome as much colour as possible without it being distracting. And my eyes have adjusted too. Animation’s the only medium where the essence of colour doesn’t bother me, which is yet another argument in favour of it. But I digress.

Ultimately, people need to ask themselves if this is as serious as they let on. Like with 3D glasses and special screens, I don’t need bright colours to enjoy what I’m watching. Because movies are about escapism. And that includes suspending your disbelief to enjoy them. It’s part of the package, and it’s time we acknowledged that. But if that doesn’t help, I recommend going to an art gallery. I promise it’s more productive than complaining.

Sunday, December 29, 2024

Zelda's Empty Adventures

Why do 3D Zelda games feel so empty?


This has been on my mind for years. Aside from the insular game design, the games feeling empty has been a wasted opportunity. I mean, 2D Zelda entries were never guilty of this! Sure, they were limited to an overhead viewpoint, but they were teeming with life! Why couldn’t the 3D entries be that way?

Let’s start with the most-beloved entry: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. Released for the N64, the game was revolutionary. Not only did it bring the franchise into the 3rd-dimension, it brought the action-adventure RPG sub-genre into a new realm too. It also had stunning visual aesthetics, with pre-rendered cutscenes and some semblance of a story. Even as an 8 year-old, this was mind-blowing!

So…why’s the overworld hub barren? It looks cool, and is streamlined, but there’s little life. The overworld, once known for its creative monsters and traps, was now a ghost town. It might have had an annoying owl, or the odd zombie at night, but it was a field. A long, tedious field. And that you kept traversing back and forth to get to your destination was boring.

I get it. The game was on a cartridge. It had limitations, making it impossible to shove enemies into. That said, couldn’t Nintendo have tried? Maybe the odd enemy? Yes, there was the giant flower monster that was difficult to beat, but that was a one-off. It was like Nintendo forgot about enemies, stripping the overworld of life.

Whatever, the N64’s limitations made that difficult. But why’s this still a problem with The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker? This is a GameCube game on a disc! Even for such a small format, The Great Sea feels empty and disconnected because there are stretches without any enemies. You can come up with an in-game explanation for the N64 classics, but this?! It’s an ocean, but that’s not an excuse. Real oceans are filled with life!

I can’t begin to tell you how monotonous sailing through The Great Sea was. The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker isn’t a long game. I beat it in a week. But even with that, travelling to the remote islands felt dull and tedious. Even with the item that speeds up sailing, or the Wind Waker allowing you to change the wind’s path, traversing The Great Sea felt slow. It was needless padding, not helped by the lack of enemies.

It's unfortunate because the next 3D entry, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, fixed this problem. And yes, the game has received its fair share of criticism, some legit (collecting Tears of Light was annoying) and some silly (complaining about Link’s “feminine” design is absurd). However, its overworld hub ruled. Perhaps it was the Tolkien/Jackson influence, but the overworld was vibrant! Its aesthetic was washed out, but it was never short on enemies or action. Which is great, as you’re forced to traverse it constantly, both with Epona and by foot! The massiveness is complimented by the variety of hostile forces, making it lived-in and epic.

Perhaps that’s why I’m most-fond of it of all the 3D entries. Is it overly-challenging? No. Is it a game I’d return to in an instant? Again, no. But it has a lively overworld, and that gives it an edge. It’s even more-lively than that of The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, a game that, for all its strengths, feels stripped down comparatively.

I know I’m being overly-critical of the Zelda games. They have a fanbase that loves them, and my critiques might be sacrilegious. But they hold weight anyway. For a franchise priding itself on immersion, it’s a missed opportunity to have overworlds that feel…barren. It’s disappointing.

I’m also spoiled by Okami and its approach to the overworld experience. I’ve written a piece before calling it the “best Zelda game”, but my general feelings remain the same. Because the game, particularly its overworld, is livelier than most Zelda games because there’s so much to do. When you’re not battling enemies, you’re restoring nature. When you’re not restoring nature, you’re interacting with and feeding animals, all of whom help you level up. When you’re not interacting with and feeding animals, you’re looking for hidden chests. And when you’re not looking for hidden chests, you’re interacting with locals or looking for side-quests.

Okami’s overworld does everything the Zelda overworlds do, but better. Considering it was designed as a Zelda clone, I’m unsure if that’s insulting, or flattering. Nevertheless, it’s a step-up for the overworld experience. It not only beats the competition, it raises the bar for overworlds. And that’s why I love it.

So yes, why do 3D Zelda games feel so empty? It’s primarily because their overworlds are devoid of life. And by “life”, I mean other lifeforms, be they friend or foe. Perhaps you can attribute it to limitations, but that becomes less-satisfactory over time. Especially when later entries retain this problem.

May your 2025 be full of joy and wonder, something the overworlds in 3D Zelda games struggle with.

Sunday, December 22, 2024

Something About Sonic

I have a mixed relationship with the Sonic franchise. I like the games, particularly the earlier entries, but it’s never captivated my imagination like Mario. The recent movie adaptations are also technically better than Mario’s outings, but they’ve yet to be excellent. Perhaps that’s because, aside from inconsistent scripts, they’re video game movies, and video games don’t translate well between mediums. Still, I was curious how the newest entry would adapt Shadow’s storyline from Sonic Adventure 2. And given that it’s the best-received video game movie adaptation to-date, I figured it was worth a shot. The bar isn’t exactly high.


I won’t go into story details. Not only would that ruin the experience, it’s redundant. Sonic Adventure 2’s over two decades old, and those interested in Sonic the Hedgehog 3 are either already Sonic devotees, or Jim Carrey fans. Instead, I’ll mention some aspects that stood out while watching the movie. This’ll include spoilers, though most of those who care are already invested. You’ve been warned.

The best part of this movie’s the acting. Specifically, that of the anthropomorphic characters. Sonic, Tails and Knuckles are wonderful to listen to, with only Knuckles’ voice not being a VA staple. Special shoutout to Colleen O’Shaughnessey as Tails. I’ve been following her since she was Sora in Digimon Adventure’s English dub, and she brings her A-game here.

I also have to hand it to Keanu Reeves’s Shadow. Reeves isn’t the best at emoting, and Shadow’s tough to make sound natural. Yet Reeves imbues surprising depth to an otherwise two-dimensional archetype. He understands the pathos of Shadow, his backstory particularly, and he doesn’t let that detract from the gloomier exterior. Granted, part of that could be because Shadow’s basically his John Wick persona.

The rest of the cast is also good. James Marsden returns as the anchor for Sonic, and he bounces off Tika Sumpter naturally. Jim Carrey’s back as Dr. Robotnik, this time doing double-duty as his grandfather, and while he descends into typical Carrey-isms, they fit Robotnik’s more eccentric personality. The only weak spot’s Krysten Ritter as a G.U.N operative. She’s working with what’s available, but the movie doesn’t know what to do with her character. She also gets written out of the film abruptly.

Of course, the big question is whether or not Shadow’s relationship with Maria would be done justice. Maria’s tragic death’s infamous in Shadow fandom, and there was a concern that it wouldn’t work here. But Sonic the Hedgehog 3 finds a suitable workaround anyway. It also improves on her relationship with Shadow from Sonic Adventure 2, with expanded scenes and naturalistic dialogue that made me misty-eyed when the inevitable happened. It isn’t the cheer-out-loud moment the internet jokingly wanted, but it’s still effective.

The rest of the movie’s a liberal retelling of Sonic Adventure 2, except minus the Rouge the Bat segments and with extra hijinks from Jim Carrey. The funniest moment occurs when both Robotniks dance through a room filled with lasers to a needle drop. It’s ridiculous, but it’s completely in-character. I don’t even mind this goofier take on Robotnik, as Carrey’s having fun. It’s been growing on me since the original film in 2020.

When the movie gets serious, it gets serious. Even with the game callbacks, Sonic the Hedgehog 3 isn’t afraid to tug at the heartstrings. This movie’s about loss and how that corrupts kind-hearted people, and while it’s not subtle, there’s dramatic weight that wasn’t present in the previous movies. In that sense, it’s leagues above its predecessors qualitatively. And I liked the first two movies!

Is this a great movie? It’s a great Sonic movie, that’s for sure! Sonic isn’t a deep character, and his movies haven’t had the prior opportunity for excellent writing, but this entry attempts an actual, heartfelt narrative. Perhaps it’s because it adapts a narrative-heavy Sonic game, or the creative team made a genuine attempt at storytelling, but this is the first entry to feel like more than an extended commercial. It has its rough spots, and the script feels disjointed, but it mostly works.

It's unfortunate that it’s also one of the better video game movies. I say that for two reasons: first, it shows that video games can, in fact, make for good movies with the right IP. And second, it reinforces how video games don’t work well as movies, especially since they eliminate the interactive component. Sonic the Hedgehog 3, for all its strengths, is no exception. But it at least transcends its source material, if not entirely.

Would I recommend this as an actual movie? Yes and no. It’s got enough going for it to work on its own, which is important for a feature. However, I don’t see casual moviegoers getting much enjoyment, outside of some goofy hijinks from Jim Carrey and a few dramatic beats involving Shadow. So while I’d recommend it, I should put an asterisk next to that. I’ll leave that for you to interpret...

Still, hearing “Live and Learn” was a nice touch in the third-act!

Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Evilness in Wicked

I didn’t plan on returning to discuss Wicked again. I figured my general thoughts on the movie and my issues with Nessarose would’ve been enough. However, I’d be remiss to ignore the backlash the movie has received. Whether it was David Ehrlich’s “insistence” he wouldn’t review the movie adaptation, even though he did, or the idea that “dim lighting = bad movie”, that Wicked can’t win for existing is upsetting considering it’s spoken to many queer youth over the years. But that’s not what I’m here to discuss.


I’d rather focus on a different critique that hits personally as an online voice. More-specifically, a Jewish voice. I don’t practice blindly, but the dichotomy of my identity means I get many confused looks and responses. Which is why Allison Josephs, or Jew in the City, and her take on Wicked hit a nerve. And to be clear, this isn’t an indictment of her concerns. Especially since she’s entitled to feel how she does.

My issue with Josephs’ take is personal. While she clearly has problem with this movie, I don’t agree with her. Specifically, I disagree with the lens by which she criticizes the messaging, tying down its storytelling to the rise in Antisemitism. I understand her concerns, but I think she mistakes the forest for the trees. Let me explain.

Wicked, and the book it’s based on, was a trailblazer. It began the “what if the villain wasn’t really the villain” trope many copycats, even today, get wrong. The reason for its success was that while it deconstructs evil, it doesn’t excuse it. Elphaba might’ve been a victim of circumstance, but we never get the impression what she becomes is right. She ruins lives, most-notably her younger half-sister’s, and we’re meant to marinate in the Ozian propaganda that festers throughout. Like classic Greek plays, this is a tragedy.

It's worth noting that while Elphaba becomes an antagonist, the real evil, The Wizard, doesn’t get any comeuppance outside of being told by Glinda to leave Oz. His crimes, including imprisoning animals and stripping them of their rights, are never aired out, and the citizens of Oz never stop believing his lies. It’s a direct critique of American populist leaders and their preying on economic hardships. It’s also a direct commentary on the American Military Industrial Complex, using war at the expense of the vulnerable.

I’ll point out that I don’t disagree with everything Josephs espouses. For one, her callout of the original author, particularly his interview where he reexamines attitudes toward Saddam Hussein and Adolf Hitler, is warranted, given the real damage they did. And two, her issue with circumstances excusing behaviours is justified. I don’t like the TikTok rehabilitation of Osama bin Laden, and that’s also my biggest issue with Munich. Victims aren’t owed an explanation for trauma, but they have a choice in their responses.

Still, Josephs is using the grievances of the previous paragraph to vent her own frustrations. She mentions Black Panther: Wakanda Forever’s Namor, and how that led to Ta-Nahisi Coates’s stance on Israel-Palestine changing. My thoughts on Coates’s take on October 7th are complicated, as I understand where he’s coming from, but I don’t agree with him. That said, Coates isn’t entirely off about the conditions of Palestinians behind The Green Line, especially considering the harassment they receive from soldiers and settlers. The conflict might be complicated, but it’s high-time Israeli institutions were more critical of the behaviours that transpire.

I also don’t see how this is relevant. Irrespective of my thoughts on Antisemitism, or what many young people mistake Hamas to be, Wicked isn’t about that. It’s about the banal ways Fascism hijacks the collective, using real woes to win supporters. Hitler might’ve been evil, and he was for sure childish and disorganized, but he preyed on post-WWI Germany. He understood that the country was struggling, and the German economy couldn’t keep pace. Hitler couldn’t have gained his influence without German citizens, even at the expense of othering Jews. That’s what this is about.

It's also telling that this is how Trump got re-elected. Do I think he’s a good leader? No. Do I believe he’ll fix the problems of The US? Again, no. But while he hoodwinked his supporters into voting for him, he did that while, again, preying on economic uncertainty. Granted, his first term was partly to blame for that, but…

Anyway, I want to stress, again, that my issue isn’t with Josephs’ opinion on Wicked. She’s allowed to not like the story and find it irresponsible, and she’s not without merit for her general complaints. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take umbrage with her arguments about evil being dismissed as an issue of circumstance or upbringing. I don’t think it’s being dismissed at all, instead deconstructed. And while it’s possible to sympathize with Elphaba’s behaviour, I doubt we’re being asked to agree. Anyone who agrees with Elphaba…has poor media literacy skills. But there are people who think The Empire in Star Wars is cool, so who am I to judge?

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