Ready Player Won?

Confession: I have a really bad sugar addiction. I'm not making that up for effect either, it's been confirmed by the addiction support group I went to. I know it's unhealthy and will hurt my body, but I can't get enough of it. What's worse, I enjoy consuming it, to an insane degree. Candy, soda, fruit, chocolate, pastries, you name it, I've had it in extreme quantities on multiple occasions.

I was gonna use this as a segue into Ready Player One, a movie I've discussed before, and how I'd still go see it anyway, but early reviews shattered anything I could say. Despite everyone's initial reactions being of violent rejection, Ready Player One's been receiving solid-to-good praise from those who've seen it. And this includes critics, who tend to be more critical of what they watch. Not all reactions have been positive, one reviewer called it Steven Spielberg's worst movie, but enough have that it's been giving closure to my claims that people were too quick to render judgement.

A part of me wants to rub it in. A part of me wants to boast about how wrong everyone was, and how ashamed they should be for demanding I think like them. A part of me wants them to apologize for the agony they've caused me, the endless and stressful arguments I've had, the fact that I had to block the movie's title in my Twitter search engine because of the backlash. A part of me wants to rub it in like a sore winner.

But I won't. Because not only is it rude, but it won't change anything about how people have been acting over Ready Player One's existence. On some level, I get it: the book it's based on is misogynistic, self-obsessed trash that panders to the lowest common-denominator. Instead, I'd like to address a fundamental frustration I've had in the world of internet discourse, as well as how that's made any attempts at conversation nigh-impossible.

Keep in mind that the internet was never a great place to talk sensibly. Its format is open and anonymous, so even the most well-intended people have auras of confidentiality that make what they say weightless and unrestrained. It also allows for the rhetoric of extremes. Yet with the rise of instant communication, as well as the factional nature of politics and nerd culture, it seems as though that's gotten worse. No one can have an intelligent conversation anymore in large groups, that's simply impossible. What's worse, people frequently make assumptions, as opposed to waiting for the full picture to form.

I mention this because it's especially bad with entertainment. In a medium once known for restraint, we now have the worry of instant gratification. If something isn't known now, it's a problem. If something we know now isn't validated, it's also a problem. And when someone disagrees…let's not go there.

A few months ago, Star Wars: The Last Jedi was released to extreme backlash. Some of it was rooted in quantifiable claims, but most was a cesspool of negativity and extreme rhetoric that still hasn't dissipated. People were talking about how "Disney raped their childhoods", and how it'd "never be the same now that SJWs have ruined everything". It's the epitome of the child at the candy store throwing a tantrum, with the sensible adults, unsuccessfully, pulling them aside to calm them down.

Ironically, it now feels like those adults are being the irrational children. Call it ridiculous nonsense, but ask yourselves: who was more excited and level-headed (relatively-speaking) about Ready Player One, the fans, or the detractors?

I get it: the media hasn't been helping. If anything, they've been exacerbating the problem, constantly promoting the worst in what Ready Player One has to offer. The trailers, while not god-awful, were only adding fuel to that, showing the worst of the film. Even the ridiculous comparison to Black Panther that one outlet used warranted ire, such that even I was annoyed! If all else, the promotional material has been awful.

But that doesn't mean the film was gonna be the disaster everyone feared. For one, it's directed by Steven Spielberg. Ignoring that he's not perfect, he's had his share of duds, Spielberg isn't a slouch. He's a master craftsman for a reason, having influenced Hollywood for over 40 years, and Ready Player One, which was basically a love-letter to his work, was always gonna be a perfect fit for his subtly-bombastic sensibilities. At worst, it was never gonna be flat-out awful.

Two, and this can't be stressed enough, books aren't movies. So what if Ready Player One was a bad fan-fic? So what if it seemed like a terrible idea at first-glance? Movies are a different medium than books, containing an entirely-different set of rules. If a book is basically a glorified reference-fest, then wouldn't film be able to bring that to life without the arduous text?

Thus is the complication that gets in the way of talking about this property: so what if the book was awful? So is practically everything Mark Millar has done. That hasn't stopped several of his ideas from working as films, has it? If Logan and Captain America: Civil War were regarded as improvements over the graphic novels that inspired them, then why can't other works of fiction be the same?

I'm sure Ready Player One will have its share of issues; after all, it's an over-glorified action movie from the king of sentimentality. If Spielberg's oeuvre has taught me anything, it's that he's not impervious to emotional overreach and goofiness. It's his modus operandi.

But to assume there's nothing there? From Spielberg, the man who made a movie about hunting a shark a masterpiece? From Spielberg, the man who made a movie about dinosaurs coming back to life into a tension-filled thriller? From Spielberg, the man who directed, arguably, the definitive film about The Holocaust? From that Spielberg?!

I know there's plausible-deniability, but this is pushing it! Even if the film was a disappointment, that doesn't automatically mean it'd be the worst experience ever. Spielberg, even at his worst, is too high-class for that. (His work as a producer's a different story, but that's more complicated.) Had it've been another talent behind the camera, maybe I'd be more on-board with the hate. But not Spielberg!

But that's what the internet discourse was like. And it was toxic. And it was grating. And it made me scared to mention that. And it-you get the point. It simply wasn't a healthy conversation-starter, and that upsets me.

However, like I said, there's no use crying over it. Rubbing it in won't reverse the pain I endured. Because it happened, it's over, the movie defied expectations. Should you still end up not liking it…fine, have your cake and eat it too. But we collectively spoke too soon with this.

Either way, I'm looking forward to this sugar rush of a spectacle. It's too bad that I have to wait a few weeks before seeing it, but what can I do?

Isle of Racial Unease

A while back, I tackled the unfortunate controversy surrounding Tim Burton not having more diverse actors and actresses in his films. During that, I mentioned the following:

"…[T]here are plenty of talented actors and actresses of colour who are looking for work, and they're always welcome additions. By constantly turning a blind eye in favour of white actors and actresses, you're actually being racist."

This couldn't be more relevant in light of a recent issue with yet another director: Wes Anderson. Anderson's newest movie, Isle of Dogs, is scheduled for release shortly as of me writing this. I'm sure it'll be delightfully quirky and charming, but I can't help but feel like there's something off about it from as early as the trailers. Whether it's that most of the cast is his white regulars, as opposed to being Japanese, his few Japanese characters smell of stereotypes, or that the Japanese characters are window-dressing, it's hard to get around the racism of this film even if you ignore that it's about, well, dogs.

Then there's the issue of the film's narrative. I won't get into the nitty-gritty, since: a. I haven't seen it yet. b. I don't want to ruin it. c. I think this review does a better job than I could. But outside of that, Isle of Dogs invokes, yet again, the bothersome p-word that I'm not too fond of in general. Still, it's definitely a blight on a winner from a director whose career's defined by them.

It also shouldn't surprise you that I opened my mouth and got myself into trouble yet again on Twitter over this. I won't relay the full conversation, you can read it here, but yeah…not a great impression. Like, at all. As in, I need to heed my own advice and learn when to stop talking.

To clarify, I'm not saying that Wes Anderson isn't to blame. He is. Art is the by-product conscious decisions on every level, such that even its more questionable material isn't accidental. A film conceived and directed by Anderson bears his seal, and, for better or worse, he deserves the brunt for its failings too. Especially given that he could've made completely different decisions than the ones he did.

However, there's a bigger issue here that's a two-fold problem. First and foremost, Anderson doesn't exist in a vacuum. He's an artist in an artist colony known as Hollywood, one that shares many of the same worldviews as him by proxy. I know this is code for "Wes Anderson is a white man surrounded by white people in a white institution", but he's limited in scope of ideas. That's not necessarily a fault of skin colour, but as with Burton's remark, it's telling of how Hollywood operates.

So when Wes Anderson, master of quirky, oddball comedy-dramas, makes a movie about Japan, a country quite different than his own, this worldview will come into play. It's no different than a Japanese director peering into my culture, aka Judaism: they can try, but unless they understand my history and life experience, it'll never be entirely-successful. Thus is the issue of racial bias: you can take the person out of the culture, but you'll never take the culture out of the person. Whether it's Anderson casting mostly white people for his roles, stereotyping Japanese people, or even limited the scope of what he covers in his story, that racial bias is gonna be there in some form. And that's troubling.

The general perceptions of art need to change too. Hollywood needs to let other voices speak, irrespective of what position they're given. And we, as a collective, have to demand better of artists. It's not like Wonder Woman and Black Panther were only box-office smashers because they were superhero films. That may be part of it, but they also catered to niches not normally represented.

If we're gonna live in a globalized world, then our art should reflect that. And it's not happening fast enough. Especially in animation, where the excuse "you can draw them however you want, so who really cares?" is still valid for casting non-diverse talents. I see it all the time, such that even my favourites aren't immune to whitewashing.

I know some of you don't understand, and I get it. That's your privilege talking, of which I also possess a certain amount. But think about it this way: when Love, Simon came out, there were stories of gay people finally feeling comfortable enough to express their gayness. Amongst them was Joey Pollari, an actor from the film who'd long felt shame. This is a phenomenon not exclusive to gay people or Love, Simon, as it happens whenever a minority of any kind gets a chance in the limelight. Isn't that something we should be celebrating, not shaming?

So yes, I stand by my claim that this isn't entirely Wes Anderson's fault, even if he deserves some of the rap. Because art is also part of a grander system of biases and prejudices. If we're to change that, part of it means acknowledging that Wes Anderson's failings aren't the full picture.

A Eulogy for Star Wars Rebels

How about that Star Wars Rebels?

So I wasn't on-board with this show initially. After all, it premiered in 2014, right as uncertainty about the new direction Disney was taking the franchise was at an all-time high. Additionally, its direct predecessor, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, was recently cancelled, and my only exposure to it at that point went back to the pilot movie no one liked. It wasn't until I watched Star Wars: The Force Awakens that I gave these shows a chance. Admittedly, Star Wars Rebels was already halfway through its second season by then, but I liked what I saw of its predecessor, so I figured I'd enjoy it too.

Forewarning, I'm gonna assume you've already seen it if you're reading this. It'll save me lots of effort and space trying to condense 4 seasons into a single blog. I'll also forgo defending it, as I've already done that. Instead, I'd like to give my general thoughts on the experience. Here goes:

I'll begin by mentioning that Star Wars Rebels, like its sister series before it, has the weird distinction of being cheaply-animated, yet progressively looking better over time. It's definitely more crisp and cinematic, thanks to an increase in budget, but it's obvious that this could never be made into a theatrical film. That's something Star Wars: The Clone Wars had to learn the hard way in 2008, and, thankfully, it's not repeated here. This show knows its visual strengths and weakness and never oversteps them, and thank goodness for that!

It's clear early-on who this show's really meant for: little kids. If Star Wars: The Clone Wars was created and written with teenagers in mind, than Star Wars Rebels is for younger Star Wars fans. I know this has turned some viewers off, but it's never bothered me. Star Wars has always been for children, and George Lucas even acknowledged this early-on. So a Star Wars show, let-alone a cartoon, being for kids is crucial when understanding why it was even aired on DisneyXD.

Musically, the show's on-par with Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Those who've seen my comparison piece will know what I think of composer Kevin Kiner's work, but I'll add that he's at his best when he plays to the tunes that John Williams made famous. This almost seems unfair, but it's a testament to the legacy of the movies themselves. This isn't to flat-out disrespect the shows for what they've brought to the table, however: ignoring their opening and ending themes, which'd be ear-worms either way, both have moments of brilliance on-par with the films.

But that's somewhat irrelevant, because Star Wars Rebels is all about filling in the gaps leading to the 1977 classic. I know its existence involves retconning certain details of established lore and stretching others, but considering that Star Wars is notorious for doing this anyway, it's easy to forgive. Not all franchises need to follow The MCU principle of tying together neatly, nor should they.

Nevertheless, I was worried how the rebellion would coalesce in the first season. The show indicated that it was initially a grassroots, guerilla-style resistance that did everything on a "hero for hire" method, except with two Jedi thrown in for good fun. That's how it starts off, but as the Season 1 finale came to pass, it was revealed to be more complicated. That almost makes me want to see another show going even further back, but I'm overreaching here.

The cast more than made up for that, though. Whether it was the headstrong Hera Syndula, daughter of partisan rebel Cham Syndula, the trigger-happy Zeb, the rebellious Sabine Ren, daughter of Mandalore, the grumpy Chopper, or the Master/Padawan combo of Kanan Jarrus and Ezra Bridger, a lot of thought went into making this crew likable. Returning characters Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex, two fan-favourites from Star Wars: The Clone Wars, eventually rounded-out the crew even further, although they would always pop in and out as necessary. Either way, a fun crew for kids to relate to.

The show also had guest appearances from the films, including Lando Calrissian, Princess Leia, Darth Vader, Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Sidious, all of whom helped anchor the show in the Star Wars universe. Even R2-D2 and C-3PO, who've been in everything Star Wars-canon, made a guest appearance in the first season…on the side of The Empire, no-less! This wasn't happenstance either, as Star Wars: The Clone Wars did this too. Plus, the inclusion of Admiral Thrawn, a non-canon character, in Season 3 was a nice touch.

Star Wars Rebels also expanded on The Force, as every Star Wars property has. Its most-infamous moment was the inclusion of a "world between worlds", a dimension isolated from time itself that appeared toward the end of Season 4. It was never fully-expanded on, to my disappointment, but it allowed for future franchise possibilities. That it also brought back the "Father/Son/Daughter" concept from the previous series was a nice nod to continuity. My only complaint is that it also retconned Ahsoka's death at the hands of Darth Vader, but I can't bellyache too much.

There were other nice nods to continuity that I liked. Ahsoka's fight with Vader in the Season 2 finale, a fight that'd been hinted at for a full season, was a great callback to the one between Anakin and Obi-Wan, even using part of Duel of the Fates in the fight's music. The show also saw the return of Darth Maul and concluded his arc toward the end of Season 3, fulfilling a long-standing threat Obi-Wan made to him in Star Wars: The Clone Wars. These sorts of call-backs were nice and further amped the show's greatness.

Additionally, Star Wars Rebels had solid season finales. Season 1 was an excellent showdown between The Grand Inquisitor and Kanan/Ezra. Season 2 had the long-awaited fight between Ahsoka and Vader. Season 3 had the long-awaited battle between The Empire and the planet Dantooine. And Season 4 topped it off with the fight for Lothal. Each of these finales were great and sweeping, if not sometimes epic, and allowed for the show to show off what it was capable of thematically and narratively.

It's hard to say if I preferred this to Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Both shows had their strengths and weaknesses, with one being really dark and edgy, and the other lighter and family-friendly. Perhaps the only advantage Star Wars Rebels had was that its narrative didn't jump around between episodes. This did mean that it suffered from more filler episodes, but even then most of them ended up meaning something. I guess only time will truly give me a satisfying answer.

Still, I enjoyed Star Wars Rebels a lot. It's not the most-ambitious or gutsy of the Star Wars properties, nor does it live up to its full-potential, and its closing narration's a little too clean, but the show's a recommended companion-series to Star Wars: The Clone Wars. It's not for everyone, but it's definitely worth checking out.