Digimon, 20 Years Later

The late-90’s were a time of technological advances. The internet was quickly becoming democratized, with its initial pay-per-use model developing into something more easily-available. The movie industry was adopting computer-generated imagery, allowing for possibilities and avenues not previously possible. Even video games, still in their relative infancy, were transitioning to the third-dimension, allowing for new possibilities. The late-90’s, essentially, were exciting, and little me was happy to play along.

Perhaps the craze that best-exemplified this was the emergence of the Digimon franchise. Beginning life as male-centric Tamagotchis, it quickly became popular enough to receive a feature film, with a TV show following shortly afterward. Said show would initially see four iterations over four years-Digimon Adventure, Digimon Zero-Two, Digimon Tamers and Digimon Frontier-with their titles dropped in the West in favour of a four season show called Digimon: Digital Monsters. Marketed and treated as a direct competitor to Pokémon, it’d quickly gain a cult-following with slightly older kids. Said kids would slowly taper-off in the years that followed, culminating in low ratings, but the early years would give it the “Sonic”-like edge to Pokémon’s “Mario”.

Digimon: Digital Monsters, or its first season, follows 7 Japanese kids during a fateful snowstorm at Summer camp. They’re slated to head home, but that plan’s derailed when they receive digital devices, are swallowed by the sky and land in a Narnia-meets-Wonderland realm called “The Digital World”. It’s here that they meet their Digimon companions, all of them taking heads in their basic forms, and find out that they were destined to save this world from evil. As the show progresses, the kids learn about The Digital World, bond with their Digimon and reconcile their own experiences. And all of this in 54 episodes.

What made Digimon: Digital Monsters unique was its kid characters. Narrative marketing had many variants of the everyman hero leading the pack, but here we had multiple heroes. Each one was also distinct in personality, and while said personality was basic, it was enough for the audience to connect with them and pick favourites. The kids’ insecurities also were addressed in character-arcs, allowing for real problems that anyone could relate to. In short, the show was unafraid to “let its hair down”.

I think this is why the show was so appealing, especially to me. As I’ve stated before, my childhood was unpleasant. Seeing a show tackle divorce, adoption and inferiority complexes, and all maturely, was a welcome education for my ignorant, sheltered mind. I cherished each and every opportunity presented.

The show was also unafraid to shake up the formula. After spending its first two story-arcs in The Digital World, it threw a curveball and had the shenanigans come to Japan. These episodes are considered some of the show’s best, as we saw how people reacted to these creatures ala the Godzilla films. When that was over, the Digidestined, now a group of 8, travelled back to The Digital World for a darker, final arc.

Being intensely popular, it made sense that more entries would follow. The first of these, the aforementioned Digimon Zero-Two, took place in the same continuity as its predecessor, except three years later. The next iteration, Digimon Tamers, would be penned by Cthulhu fanatic Chiaki J. Konaka, being disturbing while it was grounded, while Digimon Frontier would be where show would end. Despite coming close to teenage-hood by that point, I still stuck with Digimon: Digital Monsters. It was my hope at sanity in a world I deemed cruel and unkind, and it let me feel like I mattered. It didn’t bother me that the English releases of these shows were hammy and heavily-censored, either, as it was clear everyone involved in production cared.

That’s not to say the shows were perfect. Aside from most iterations never properly addressing death, they were written with story arcs that routinely felt retconned. This allowed for many contradictions and unanswered questions. The villains, at least early on, were also shallow and uninteresting, with one not even making sense. And the production value was pretty low, with lots of reused animations and character model inconsistencies.

Digimon Tamers, while the admitted high-point, also had tonal and plotting issues that bug me as an adult. This particular entry was the most-grounded, but with that came drastic breaks in logic. The retconning of its arcs was equally-offset by the show being slower and more atmospheric, making its inconsistencies much more noticeable. And it suffered tonal whiplash, changing from light and campy to dark and serious in a heartbeat. This ignores that it coincided with 9/11, making much of its subject matter, while interesting, feel too real.

But I loved these shows anyway. Even now, as an adult, I admire how daring and ambitious Digimon: Digital Monsters was in its writing. It (mostly) holds up, too, which is something I can’t say about many shows based on toys. So while it’s not winning awards, I still recommend giving the franchise a try. It truly captured The Information Age better than most shows, and, like The Matrix, is a perfect snapshot of late-90’s nostalgia.

That, and Digimon Tamers was something special. I’m not kidding, it was!

On Kiki's Delivery Service and Creative Burnout

Being an adult with a disability is frustrating. Despite having a social security net, I still regularly feel life burnout. Even with two part-time jobs, I routinely struggle with budgeting and constant feelings of inadequacy. It doesn’t help that I have addiction issues and anxiety, either. These complications routinely creep into my writing, making something I otherwise love doing feel like a chore.

This is why film, particularly the works of Studio Ghibli, has been so empowering. A while back, I wrote a piece discussing the relationship I have with Hayao Miyazaki and his studio, having discovered their work as an adult. I’d have more nostalgia if I found them as a child, but seeing them in my 20’s allows me to appreciate their subtexts. This is definitely true for Kiki’s Delivery Service, a movie that, while not my favourite, has resonated strongly as a creative trying to mark his mark.

Kiki’s Delivery Service is the story of a 13 year-old witch, Kiki, who leaves home to refine her magic. Settling in town of Koriko, she meets a kind, pregnant woman named Osono, who, with her busy husband, runs the city’s bakery. She and Kiki set up a delivery service inside said bakery, operated entirely by Kiki herself. She’s initially excited, but as the stress of work begins setting in, Kiki realizes that she may be in over her head.

What makes this movie work is how human it feels. Kiki’s Delivery Service, essentially, portrays the working experience in an authentic and genuine manner. There’s something surprisingly on-point about losing packages because of unforeseen circumstances, or even helping to deliver a personalized gift, only to be rudely shafted by its recipient. Even Kiki’s frustrations surrounding her inability to fly, or no longer understanding her cat, that surface in the second-half feel real and troubling. As someone whose first real job was as a courier, this hits home really hard.

So does the burnout that Kiki experiences. There’ve been many instances where I’ve doubted my own writing abilities and felt like giving up because of it. And not only as a blogger or casual writer, either. I’m currently trying to write a graphic novel, which has been a passion project of mine for close to three years. I have a finished script, but the refining and funding process has proven tedious and frustrating. My first editor, whom I’m incredibly grateful for, also cost me a lot more money to compensate than I initially thought. This doesn’t account for later revisions that’ll inevitably take place, either.

In Kiki’s Delivery Service, shortly after losing her magic, Kiki asks for time off to go camping with Ursula in the woods. Ignoring how unrealistically nonchalant Osono is about it, this allows Kiki time for self-care. She models for Ursula’s next portrait, and she listens to Ursula’s own stories about burnout. Ursula, essentially, explains how talent is self-motivated. It can’t simply happen, you need to find the right spark. This spark eventually comes when Kiki’s forced to save her friend, Tombo, from falling to his death. She struggles with her own inadequacies, both literally and metaphorically, to do this.

While I’ve never been in Kiki’s situation to help rekindle my creative spark, her fight with herself is still a universal one. Far too often, our greatest critic is us. We feel we’re not worthy of respect or adoration, and it makes us feel awful. When Kiki’s broom breaks, that hurts to watch. And when she’s flapping about rescuing Tombo, I’m on the edge of my seat. Forget any and all Hollywood blockbusters, Kiki trying to rescue Tombo makes me anxious!

What makes Kiki’s Delivery Serivce work is that it’s the “creator’s dream” film. How ironic, given the behind-the-scenes complications that arose during production. Hayao Miyazaki wasn’t even originally supposed to be the director, only taking on the role because he didn’t feel like it was working. The film was retooled in a year, with large chunks of the storyboarding reworked on the fly. The budget was tight, and certain shortcuts, like shortening the length of Kiki’s hair, were almost necessary. The movie was also allegedly stopped partway through production when the source book’s author expressed dissatisfaction over the adaptation, only changing her mind after visiting Studio Ghibli. And Studio Ghibli’s parent company was threatening to pull support to the studio should the movie fail at the box-office, having already had several financial flops under their belt.

I’m not surprised, therefore, that the end-product was a film about a teenager who doubts her own abilities. It feels semi-autobiographical in that way, fitting for a studio that takes such big gambles. But such is the nature of Studio Ghibli films. If Whisper of the Heart celebrates the spirit of creativity, a coming-of-age tale for any visionary artist, then Kiki’s Delivery Service is its companion piece, showing how it’s not always that simple. It recognizes that the youthful experience is trying, routinely results in burnout and should be treated with respect and dignity. This is, in essence, the definitive movie about work stress.

Oh, and Jiji’s also the funniest character in a Miyazaki film. I thought I’d point that out. (Rest in peace, Phil Hartman.)

JLP-Jewish Latina Princess

Anyone who’s followed me for a while knows about my complicated relationship with Disney. As stated in my Ralph Breaks the Internet piece, I’ve come to terms with their corporate and their creative sides being one-in-the-same. I’m also aware that their corporate side is out-of-control. Still, Disney has a big impact on pop-culture, and their choices have ripple-effects. Case in point: they’ve recently announced their first Jewish princess.

I’ve never actually watched Elena of Avalor. Like Sophia the First, I’m sure it’s enjoyable, but it’s not meant for me. However, I recognize its popularity with little girls, and its characters definitely don’t exist in a bubble. So when it was revealed that the titular heroine would be travelling to a Jewish kingdom, I was pleasantly surprised. It seemed like a natural progression in an increasingly globalized world. Factor in that the new princess is Latina, and you’ve immediately sold her on two different fronts.

This is great news. Yet, as with all great news, it was also met with backlash. Skimming through every complaint would be a waste of time, but I’ve narrowed down the resistance to two points. The first is that “this isn’t the first Jewish princess in Disney’s history”, while the second is a denial that non-Ashkenazi Jews exist. Let’s deconstruct both.

The idea that Disney’s had Jewish princesses prior is interesting and somewhat sympathetic. Because yeah, what happened to Vanellope from Wreck-It Ralph and Ralph Breaks the Internet? The former revealed her princess-hood, albeit unconventionally, while the latter had a scene with her interacting with other Disney princesses in their communal changing room. She even gets bombarded with a series of gatekeeping questions to prove that she’s a princess. It’s also a great scene with clever jokes, by the way.

However. there’s one detail that’s unaccounted for in both films: Vanellope’s voiced by Jewish comedian Sarah Silverman. This is something that Silverman was quick to point out last year. It’s also something that several critics have pointed to, and it’s easy to see why from a technical perspective: if your character is voiced by a Jew, then aren’t they Jewish by default? Well…no.

The best counterpoint is Elsa from Frozen. Like Vanellope, Elsa’s voice actress, Idina Menzel, is Jewish. But that doesn’t make Elsa Jewish, as evidenced by her referring to Christmas in “Frozen Forever After”. That a character’s played by someone with an ethnicity doesn’t mean it’ll automatically translate to film. Especially in animation, where you don’t even have to voice a person.

Critics have also suggested that Nancy Tremaine, who’s played by Menzel as well, from Enchanted is a Disney princess too, as going by the final scene. Ignoring how that movie isn’t technically canon, as it’s a spoof, that still doesn’t confirm anything. Nancy’s not Jewish in that movie, her identity isn’t brought up at all. She largely exists to generate a love triangle between her, Giselle and Robert Phillip, and her resolution, though funny, feels more like an afterthought. Even before I knew who Idina Menzel was, I still felt that way.

I know I’m giving Menzel the cold shoulder, and I apologize. I even got into a jokingly heated debate on Twitter with a stranger, who tried using “Jewish guilt” as a defence mechanism. But simply pointing to a character and saying “Jew” strikes me as tokenizing when the character isn’t confirmed as Jewish. That doesn’t mean you can’t claim the character as your own, that’s what headcanons are for, but I need hard-hitting evidence before I’m, personally, ready to accept it.

The other argument that’s been tossed about, this one being less-sympathetic, is that “Jews can’t be Latino”. I’ve mentioned this before on several occasions, but not only is it Antisemitic to state that, it’s also racist. Jews aren’t one type of people, because they existed long before the codification of race in the 18th Century. They’ve, historically, been many races. It’s absolutely possible, therefore, for there to be Jews who are Latino: they’re called Sephardim. They lived in Spain for centuries, and are now largely, alongside Mizrachi Jews, found in predominantly Muslim and Iberian-colonized countries.

Saying “Jews can’t be __” ignores that, yes, they can. And they can even be princesses if they want to. I’m more disappointed that this didn’t happen sooner, especially since “Frozen Forever After” referenced Chanukkah in two throwaway lines. Additionally, having that be the holiday that Elena of Avalor references feels kinda unambitious. Everyone knows Chanukkah, but few people know Judaism’s other holidays. Why not have this princess celebrate Sukkot, or Simchat Torah? I’d even be game for Shavuot!

Regardless of whether or not the show’s missing an opportunity to teach kids about less-mainstream Jewish holidays, this is still exciting. It’s giving Jewish Disney fans something to latch onto, normalizing the reality that this is the world we live in now. It’s also another feather in Disney’s diversity cap, given the age-old rumour that Uncle Walt was “an Antisemite”. And it looks good for Disney’s brand to be forward-thinking, corporate practices aside.

Then again, waiting this long for a Jewish Disney princess is a problem. I mean, it’s not like Disney’s the only company that exists, right? RIGHT?!

Junk Drawer: Mutants, Gunns and Cameos

It’s all about the supers, baby!

Ever since it was announced that the X-Men and Fantastic Four properties would appear in The MCU, there’s been talk. Questions like “Who’ll play which character?” and “How will they be introduced?” have been buzzing around. There’s a lot to speculate here, as it’s rousing curiosity. Fortunately, we’ve been given a small glimpse recently, and it’s quite something: Magneto, the IP’s biggest villain, could be given to a minority actor. Yeah…that surprised me too.

Sufficed to say, internet comic bros didn’t respond well. Between the whole “Not My Magneto” nonsense and insisting that “he has to be a Holocaust survivor”, people are more up in arms over a non-white Magneto than the fact that he’s being recast again. Ignore how two people have already played the character, instead focus on his skin colour! That’ll show ‘em, right?

See, Jews aren’t the only Holocaust survivors. There were plenty of minorities that met terrible fates by the Nazis. Groups like Freemasons, gays, the disabled, Slavs and the like were all victims, but most-interestingly is the whitewashing of the Romani. The Romani persecution under Hitler is overlooked, presumably because the Romani persecution under anyone is overlooked! If Marvel’s looking to diversify, perhaps they can outsource there?

Even outside of that, white Jews, or Ashkenazi Jews, weren’t the only ones who were victims. Many Jews from North Africa also suffered during The Holocaust, albeit not as much. Also, Jewish identity, as I’ve stated before many times, doesn’t end at “white”. I’d even argue that Jews are too distinct to be “white” anyway. Identity doesn’t stop at skin colour, or else Italians would be the same as the British.

I think it’s more offensive that Magneto has yet to be played by a Jewish actor. Nothing against Ian McKellen and Michael Fassbender, but they’re not Jews. If people want to be mad about something, why not start there? Why not complain that past X-Men movies didn’t look for Jewish talent when casting? Isn’t that more in-line with Magneto’s character, that he’s Jewish and a Holocaust survivor? Why the double-standard?

I apologize for blowing your minds there. I remember this not going over well on Twitter (one person claimed I had a “bad brain”), but it’s no less true: you can’t be selective. If you’re mad about Magneto being a minority, then you should’ve also been mad that he was played previously by two gentiles. Because either way, it’s not ideal. And besides, a Romani Magneto could be interesting! If MJ can be black now, then why can’t Magneto be a minority too? This isn’t the 1960’s!

Remember James Gunn? Remember him being fired over offensive Tweets from 7 years ago? Remember how he was falsely accused of being a pedophile? And remember how he finally came back as director for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. III? I remember all of it. Fortunately, I also remember how he was given the opportunity to direct The Suicide Squad because of that.

There’s been lots of anticipation over what this semi-reboot of Suicide Squad would be like, but it’s been mostly hush-hush. Or it would’ve been hush-hush, but Gunn recently Tweeted a cast rundown of everyone involved. The obvious choice of Margot Robbie was there, but then you had John Cena, Peter Capaldi and Michael Rooker tagging along too. That’s right, a wrestler, a Doctor and Yondu are all in the casting call. To top it all off, the phrase “Don’t get too attached” was written above the list.

This is all good news! James Gunn has long-since proven that he’s no longer the obnoxious idiot who gave us Super and “Beezel”, and this is another sign that he’s matured. The Suicide Squad looks like something he’s passionate about, and I think he can pull it off. I also like how Gunn, of all people, was chosen for the project. Given that Suicide Squad was desperately trying to be DC’s answer to Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy films, this is basically full-circle.

Could the movie end up being bad? Possibly. Despite DC’s recent turn-around, they’ve put their foot in their mouth on several occasions. Besides, film is a wildcard medium. Considering how many people are involved in production, something small can always spiral into a bigger problem later on. But I’m hopeful, and Gunn is a big reason why.

Rounding this out is a small, yet significant, piece of MCU news. Remember Iron Man? Remember how he died in The Avengers: Endgame, ending Robert Downey Jr.’s contract? There’s a possibility he’ll come back for Black Widow. Not as a major role, but a cameo.

I know what you’re thinking, but please slow down. For one, Tony’s death still matters. Kevin Feige and company aren’t that callous. And two, it’s a movie set before The Avengers: Infinity War. That’s not cheating any more than Gamora returning in The Avengers: Endgame.

I understand that wanting death to be consequential was a big part of the criticism of The MCU up until recently, and I sympathize. But this isn’t even breaking the rules on Black Widow’s death (remember that?), as it takes place between Captain America: Civil War and The Avengers: Endgame. If anything, this fills the gaps between those two movies, and hopefully it’ll do it well.

I’d be more concerned that it’s another prequel film. The MCU has already had two, and both are more-middling MCU entries. This isn’t to say I don’t enjoy Captain America: The First Avenger and Captain Marvel, I do, but they fall into the common trap of “we know how this ends”. In the case of the former, it led to SHIELD’s foundation. In the case of the latter, it explained why Nick Fury wore an eyepatch, as well as why everyone hated The Kree. Black Widow could end up being yet another victim of “Prequel-itis”, but we’ll see when the time comes.

That about wraps it up for me! Thanks for sticking it out, and, as always, I’ll see you next time!

It Best Be Sung: Understanding Music in Studio Ghibli Films

Music’s important to the filmgoing experience. Whether it’s helping to flesh out a mood, conveying a non-verbal feeling, or even being memorable, film music is universal and has a half-life that outlives the film itself. The same can be said of in-film songs, or soundtracks. The differences between scores and soundtracks aren’t always well-known, but soundtracks tend to be less-appreciated than scores. Which is a shame, because they’re equally as important.

Take Studio Ghibli. Like most anime shows and films, the studio’s library contains plenty of great music. Casual fans can point to The Girl Who Fell From the Sky and Mononoke Hime as classics, and deservedly so. Yet it’s the songs that, while brilliant, go unrecognized. Or, rather, go not nearly as recognized. Of Studio Ghibli’s 22 canonical films, there are dozens of great pieces of music that deserve a place in cinema history. But because they’re rarely in a recognizable language, they receive passing mentions.

I want to change that. I’d like to focus on these songs, which I’ll divide into four categories, and explain why they deserve praise. I want to show that they deserve as much recognition as their non-lyrical counterparts. Not to mention, you’ll get a chance to re-contextualize these songs.

The first category is Original Film Tunes. These are songs made specifically for Studio Ghibli movies, like “Kaze no Tani no Naushika” or “Carrying You” from Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind and Castle in the Sky respectively. The former, which was cut from the movie proper, was heavily advertised in the Japanese trailers and marketing, and it’s really fun and upbeat. The latter, sung by Azumi Inoue, echoes the film’s themes while carving its own identity. Inoue would later return for Hayao Miyazaki’s next two films, My Neighbor Totoro and Kiki’s Delivery Service, and sing their themes, “Tonari no Totoro” and “Wrapped in Kindness”, for Japanese audiences.

It doesn’t end at Miyazaki, though. The late-Isao Takahata varied singers for each of his films at the studio, but most-striking is “Inochi No Kioku”, sung by Kazumi Nikaido. Quiet and somber, it feels like a melody of regret, which fits perfectly with The Tale of the Princess Kaguya. This is a complete 180 from Hiroyuki Morita’s sole Studio Ghibli venture, The Cat Returns, and its theme, “Become the Wind”, sung by Ayano Tsuji. Both songs match their movies’ tones, but the nuances are in the details.

This also extends to foreign composers adapting their styles for Studio Ghibli, which leads to category #2: Original Foreign Tunes. Like the first category, these are composed specifically for the movies. Unlike the first category, however, they’re not sung by Japanese speakers. I can only think of two examples, but both are from films directed by Hiromasa Yonebayashi.

When Marnie Was There’s tune’s sung entirely in English. This makes sense: it was sung by Priscilla Ahn, an American who was a huge fan of Studio Ghibli’s work. Yet even ignoring that, “Fine on the Outside” encapsulates the isolation that comes with survivor’s guilt, which Anna displays. Perhaps most-striking is the line, “And so I'll just sit in my room after hours with the Moon, and think of who knows my name...” It’s not something you’d consider important initially, but it’s actually quite fitting. As is the opening line, “I never had that many friends growing up, so I learned to be okay with just me”. It feels like a rallying cry for people with depression, suggesting that they’re not alone.

The Secret World of Arrietty, scored by French composer Cécile Corbel, features several songs throughout. Most-notably is the film’s end-credits theme “Arrietty’s Song”, which blends Japanese with English in Corbel’s soothing voice. The song is a calming ballad about life as a pint-sized human, frequently traversing the dangers of the everyday that we take for granted. Corbel even translated the song into English for the film’s British dub, though that didn’t end up mattering when, like Ponyo, it made its way to North America.

The third category is Incorporated Songs, or songs from other sources that made their way into Studio Ghibli films. This actually has two sub-categories, Foreign Songs and Local Songs, and is where most of the studio’s tracks congregate. Whether Isao Takahata or Yoshifumi Kondō, songs of this nature show how steeped in entertainment discourse Studio Ghibli really is. For Whisper of the Heart, using “Country Roads” as its main motif, or even Only Yesterday, which remixes “The Rose”, it’s even built into the movie’s DNA. Especially the former, as the film’s themes of self-expression and longing fit with the John Denver classic.

Yet it’s the Locally Integrated Songs that intrigue me more. In The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, the Japanese nursery rhyme “Warabe Uta” is repeated three times. It’s sung when a young Kaguya plays with her friends, it’s sung when Kaguya laments to her mother in the palace and it’s sung in the film’s dénouement. Two of these three times, it’s interrupted with tearful ballads, suggesting Kaguya’s ethereal existence is one she’s unhappy with. The last time it’s sung straight, emphasizing that it doesn’t matter. Either way, it’s a tearjerker.

Conversely, Only Yesterday uses Japanese pop songs to set its 60’s segments apart from its 80’s ones. Songs like “Hyokkori Pumpkin Island”, which Taeko sings once she accepts that she’ll never be famous, match well with the silly visuals accompanying them, but they also serve as much more. Similarly to how your parent or grandparent might occasionally sing childhood melodies without warning, these songs are the same. They highlight the “simpler times”, and they’re really catchy.

Locally Integrated Songs are unique for a Westerner like myself, someone who’s never heard them, because they let me peer into Japanese pop culture. I’m familiar with “Country Roads” or “The Rose”, if only in-passing. Yet Kyu Sakamoto’s “Sakiyuki” is a song I didn’t know until I watched From Up On Poppy Hill. I feel bad about that, as Sakamoto has a reputation in Japan on-par with Elvis Presley. So aside from being pleasant to listen to, it’s also a piece of cross-cultural osmosis in a Studio Ghibli film. Musical Easter eggs like that are always nice.

The final category is Original Incorporated Songs. These feel like they should already exist in pop culture, but are inventions of these movies. Songs like “Teru No Uta”, sung in Japanese by Aoi Teshima, come to mind, being the best part of Tales From Earthsea. I know people rag on Teshima for dragging on, but it really captures Therru’s loneliness. It also brings out the best of dub actress Blaire Restaneo.

Original Incorporated Songs also permeate several of Studio Ghibli’s in-movie tracks. Whether it’s the variants of “Mister Raccoon” in Pom Poko, or both anthems of From Up On Poppy Hill, they’re catchy and thematically appropriate. They highlight that, like any original song in the West, Japan isn’t only weird and foreign. They understand the power of music and aren’t afraid to show it. That relatability also drives home their movies’ staying power.

Ultimately, there’s no denying that Studio Ghibli knows how to craft and incorporate good music in their films. They’re not easy to sing along with if you don’t speak Japanese, but it doesn’t matter. Music’s a universal language, and you don’t need to be educated to appreciate it. Besides, Studio Ghibli has so much music to choose from that I can’t highlight it all. If that’s not testament to their brilliance, I don’t know what is!

The Joke's on You!

Before I begin, I want to address my anger and frustration at The Venice Film Festival over An Officer and a Spy. Like The Pianist, I’m sure it’s brilliant, but that’s irrelevant. Roman Polanski, the director, has been hiding in Europe following a statutory rape accusation, and he’s avoided charges since. By having his latest film receive accolades, it’s a form of enabling. It’s like no one cares that he’s a predator.

Still, while An Officer and a Spy received an ovation, the top prize actually went to Joker. Joker’s been touted as a potential Best Picture hopeful at the next Academy Awards, with Joaquin Phoenix a shoe-in for Best Actor. It’d be impressive that another comic book movie has a chance at the gold, but the movie’s controversies, including Phoenix losing 52 pounds, have turned-off many filmgoers. Also, its subject matter’s become the source criticism.

I get it. On one hand, melding mental illness and incel behaviour into a sympathetic portrayal of a psycho-killer is disturbing. Hollywood loves fetishizing and infantilizing the unwell, it’s practically its MO. It’s tiring to see them detract from conversations about mental health. And since several early reviews even acknowledged this, I’m more concerned than anything.

That said, I think people are being unfair. See, off-kilter individuals often make for good storytelling. It doesn’t always have to be that way, but crazy people allow for compelling forms of dark drama. And The Joker, Batman’s greatest nemesis, embodies that. Especially if Frank Miller’s The Killing Joke’s indication.

I strongly doubt that Joker’s intent is to ridicule depression and bipolar disorder. Todd Phillips, the director, was clearly inspired by Martin Scorcese, as evidenced by his casting of Robert De Niro. He may be delving into dark and unpleasant territory, as you’d expect, but his goal is to make a compelling drama. As are the writers and actors. And judging by reviews, they’ve largely succeeded.

Filmmaking, like all forms of narrative art, isn’t a perfect science. A story can be brilliant and still treat ideas with disdain, it happens regularly. To use examples of past Oscar nominees, The Dark Knight “fridged” its one female character of-note, while Black Panther can be read into as a CIA puff-piece. Both films are regarded as classics by critics and fans-alike, but they’re not always so sympathetic. No film can be fair to everything.

Joker’s no different: yes, it’s probably disturbing. And true, there’s a good chance it’ll divide people. But does that mean it’s undeserving of praise? No. I’m sure the film is still really good, otherwise it’d most-likely not receive that praise.

I get what the real issue is: it’ll inevitably fuel the internet dude-bros who feel like the movie “gets” them. It’s going to appeal to them most, become a meme for many years and generate a lot of real-world hate. And in the year 2019, when the leader of the world’s biggest superpower is a sociopath who actively spews hate, that’s a terrible reading of the global room. Joker, essentially, feels like it’s coming out at the wrong time.

But is that really the movie’s fault? Ignoring that the meme-train has already left the station, is it Joker that’s to blame for this behaviour? I’m not really one to talk, I’ve pointed fingers before at James Bond movies and The Matrix in the past, but Joker couldn’t have predicted this. Especially when works like The Matrix had their message skewed anyway.

I’m not kidding: think of all the pop-culture touchstones that’ve been misinterpreted by film nerds. The Matrix, a movie about not conforming to society’s toxic expectations, became a rallying cry for MRAs. Fight Club, which was about disseminating toxic masculinity, also became a rallying cry for MRAs. Even Star Wars, a franchise about fighting Space Nazis, is adored by actual Nazis, such that many people were upset when the newer films made the villains incompetent. (How many “The Empire Was Right” pieces do you think exist, after all?)

Joker being misread as praising vile behaviour would’ve happened regardless. And I think that that needs stressing. Besides, if the theatre shooting during the premiere of The Dark Knight Rises is indication, these behaviours don’t need specific catalysts to happen. All they need is a sociopathic, white supremacist jerk with an AR-15. It’s that simple.

Does this mean that Joker can’t be criticized? No. The movie won’t be perfect, and parts won’t be ideal. It also seems like DC and Warner Bros., in trying to make it “film snob-friendly”, are sanitizing it of its comic book elements. That last point bugs me the most, as, like with animation, comics will never be taken seriously. And given the box-office revenue of The MCU, that’s a slap in the face to reality.

But that doesn’t mean the movie won’t be worth people’s time. It might be, who knows? It isn’t available to the general public yet, and people’s minds can change. And isn’t that more important than ragging on a film for being too serious? Isn’t that what really matters? I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather a film say what it wants to, even at the expense of questionable subtext, then get shut out because it isn’t what people want right now.

Now, about An Officer and a Spy…

The Whedon Conundrum

Before I begin, a disclaimer: I have no attachment to Joss Whedon as an individual. He might not be the worst person ever, even in entertainment, but his years of performative wokeness while cheating on his wife are enough to make me partially-ill. Also, some of the statements he’s made on Twitter have been eye-roll-worthy. And he can’t write women. But let’s stick a pin in the last point.

The film world is of two minds on Joss Whedon. If you mention him in a discussion, people will wince or applaud. He’s seen as either a pariah, or cinematic poison, and often simultaneously. There really is no consensus, essentially. So where do I stand?

As with many aspects of art, I’m mixed on Whedon; on one hand, I think he’s a fun idea guy, having graced the world with shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly, as well as written and directed The Avengers. He also has a strong handle on what nerds like, and his character scripts are always memorable. On the other hand, his characters usually sound snarky. And, like I said before, he doesn’t write women well.

My introduction to Whedon’s work was The Cabin in the Woods. It was weird, uncomfortable, funny and, ultimately, interesting. I don’t think 22 year-old me fully grasped what was going on, especially since I was still developing my film tastes, but I’ve always thought the scene where all the monsters broke loose was where it should’ve ended. (Seriously, the finale was excessive.) That was the year that The Avengers debuted and…well, I’ve written plenty on The MCU.

My stance on Joss Whedon has gone through ups-and-downs. There was a time when I thought he made great movies. Then I despised him. Then I felt bad for him when I discovered how Hollywood had treated him. Then I liked him again when he got shooed off of Twitter. Then all of that was soured when I learned of his affairs. I’m not sure what to think of him anymore.

Anyway, here are several claims that’ve been thrown around over the years that I think are rubbish:

There’s a common remark that Whedon lacks talent. This is untrue. Joss Whedon may not necessarily be “the best in the world”, but he’s got something going for him. This is a man who was called in late in the production of Toy Story to rewrite the film from scratch. This is also a man brought in to direct and co-write The Avengers because of his Marvel comics knowledge. In both cases, the results speak for themselves.

Then there’s the claim that he lacks a significant style. This one angers me: yes, he’s no Christopher Nolan, James Cameron or, on a lesser-note, JJ Abrams, but he has a style. It’s mostly in his banter, which is snappy and quick. He also knows how to direct people. You’re under no obligation to like him, but saying he lacks a style is a lie.

I also find that this opens the floor to lots of questions: what does it mean to have a style? What does it mean to lack one? Why must every person in entertainment require their own, noticeable style? And if he doesn’t have one, then how come people know when he’s done something? Isn’t that a style?

But I know what people really mean. Like the obnoxious overpraise of the late-Satoshi Kon, people really want an experience. Joss Whedon, in contrast, feels workman-like. But is that necessarily bad? I’m not a fan of ambition for ambition’s sake, and sometimes workman-like is preferable.

Moving to more personal complaints, there’s Whedon’s writing and directorial sensibilities. He likes to fetishize feet, particularly women’s feet. He also likes sexualizing women. And he can’t write women for crap.

There are a lot of rebuttals that can be made. On the subject of feet alone, Quentin Tarantino is equally as guilty, if not more guilty, of this than Joss Whedon. Whedon might have a close-up or two, but his sensibilities never dominate. Tarantino, however, can’t leave his obsession alone, with his movies spending several, unnecessary shots on feet. I’d also argue that foot fetishism isn’t nearly as offensive as some people claim, but I’ll save that for some time never.

With sexualization, Whedon’s also pretty restrained comparatively. There was that controversy a while back over Whedon’s unreleased Wonder Woman script, but that’s exactly it: it was unreleased. It was never meant for the public. And besides, it’s better than much of the garbage I’ve never released. It feels like people are only critical here because it’s Whedon, not realizing he’s in good company with other, more well-respected directors and writers.

As for not writing women well, guess what? So can’t a lot of people. Christopher Nolan writes them like robots, assuming he includes them at all. Aaron Sorkin writes them like they deserve scorn. Even The Wachowski Sisters can’t write women well! This isn’t a Whedon issue, it’s a Hollywood issue. It’s a general issue that stems for centuries of patriarchal storytelling.

I feel like a lot of these stem from the insecurities that his detractors won’t openly address. Is he “the best”? No. Is he “the worst”? Again, no. He’s a guy who, for a variety of reasons, struck it big for a short time and then got a raw deal. And I can laugh as much as anyone about “Whedon’s Infinity Gauntlet”, though I doubt he’s that shameless, but in the end he simply exists. And there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

I think it’s time to retire the world’s love-hate relationship with Joss Whedon. Even if he can be obnoxious, I think we should move on. It’s tiring that this gets in the way of serious discourses that are worth having, like how “Release the Snyder Cut” isn’t about Zack Snyder. We’ll all be much happier that way, trust me!