Sinners Are Winners?

I haven’t seen Sinners. I might down the line, but it released during an awkward time for me. Plus, I’m trying to budget my moviegoing, and I recently saw Thunderbolts*. I know that puts me in an increasing minority of filmgoers, especially given its box-office, but I’m not able to watch everything in theatres. Sorry!

That said, there are people who are downplaying its success in order to “keep the director in check”. This is disingenuous and racist given who directed the film. There are also people who are calling the movie “the saviour of cinema”. This, too, is also disingenuous and racist. And since both sides are arguing, it’s only fair to explain why I feel they’re doing it a disservice.

Let’s start with the downplaying. Ever since Sinners started doing well, there’ve been numerous articles and editorials calling it a “modest” success. They’re minimizing the impact it’s made, a sort of “yeah, it’s good…but-” scenario. I could go on about how this speculative journalism’s disingenuous, as no one outside of the industry knows how films work, but-oh wait, I already am. Never mind!

If that isn’t bad enough, it also feels racist since Ryan Coogler’s black. Not only that, but he’s talented. Beginning with Fruitvale Station, Coogler’s directed high-profile and well-received movies about the black experience. Even the Black Panther films, arguably Coogler’s most-commercial projects, were excellent, showcasing that he can direct mainstream properties with care. Coogler’s proven himself by now, with Sinners being another example.

So…why isn’t he allowed to own this? Ignoring how Coogler’s earned a blank cheque to do whatever he wants, he won this victory fairly. He should celebrate, and that he’s being shouted down because executives are scared they can’t control him is upsetting and offensive. After all, why aren’t Christopher Nolan or Denis Villeneuve being held down? They’ve proven themselves too!

The obvious answer here’s racism. Unlike Nolan and Villeneuve, Coogler’s a high-profile director who dissects black experiences. Fruitvale Station’s about police brutality and black people. Creed’s about a black boxer. The Black Panther movies are about black Marvel characters in a post-colonial world. And now Sinners is about black jazz singers fighting vampires in the Jim Crow South. It’s clear that Coogler wears his blackness with pride, and that frightens plenty of people. It’s wrong, but it does.

That’s what this is about. Yes, studio executives exist for a reason. And filmmaking’s as much a business as it is entertainment. But that doesn’t mean Ryan Coogler should be held to different standards. He’s earned his success with high-quality productions, and he deserves to celebrate. Not letting him is wrong.

I’d end on that triumphant note, but some of this movie’s defenders are also being unfairly-hyperbolic. Sinners might be a great movie, but is it the “saviour of cinema”? Can it “fix” the currently trajectory if people only “give it a chance”? I don’t think Coogler signed up for that. I think he only wanted to make a good movie that was personal to him.

By touting Coogler’s latest as a second coming experience, people are overhyping him. Not that he isn’t great, but he’s human. And he’s flawed. He might’ve consistently made great movies, but that doesn’t mean he’s a god. That’s a big mistake to be making.

Even going by his successes, so what? Two years after The Dark Knight Rises, which people were split on, Christopher Nolan directed the incredibly-divisive Interstellar. Two movies later, he gave us Tenet, a movie mired by the pandemic and his stubborn insistence it remain in theatres. And with Denis Villeneuve, he might be striking it big with his adaptations of the Dune books, but his trajectory has always felt lopsided. I wasn’t a fan of his until Blade Runner 2049, which didn’t exactly set the box-office ablaze.

While Nolan and Villeneuve are masters of their craft, they’re not flawless. In fact, it’s their hype that’s sometimes their downfall, as they’ve let their egos lose before. If Ryan Coogler’s to be a blank cheque director, there’s a chance he could fall victim to that too. There’s a chance his ego could be his undoing. After all, success is a double-edged sword!

Outside of that, that Coogler has to be the “saviour of cinema” feels racist. Yes, he’s made great movies, there’s no doubt about that. But that doesn’t mean he has to “redeem” cinema. This idea that Coogler’s the next wave of redemption treads a stereotype that harms black creatives more than white ones. Especially since they too are flawed.

You don’t need to look far, either. Ava DuVernay, the director of Selma, received a blank cheque with A Wrinkle in Time, and that movie wasn’t the hit she or Disney wanted. Barry Jenkins made headlines with Moonlight, even winning Best Picture at The Oscars, yet his work on Mufasa turned him away from big-budget productions. Coogler has yet to fall into this trap, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen to him. Especially if he bites off more than he can chew.

Truthfully, I want people to adjust their expectations with Coogler. Yes, he’s a great director. Yes, he’s made consistently-great movies (so far). But he’s not invincible. He too has the potential to crash and burn, and it might not be pretty. So while Sinners might be fantastic, calling it cinema’s “saviour” is a harmful exaggeration. I don’t think it was originally designed to be that, even if Coogler’s definitely earned a blank cheque.

Then again, I could be wrong. Remember, the film industry changes regularly, and I guess only time will tell!

Marvel Tackles Depression

(Warning: this piece contains spoilers. Read at your own risk.)

While in high school, I downloaded LimeWire so I could play old video games. After two weeks and a realization that I’d compromised my computer, I deleted it. Unfortunately, I also accidentally wiped my computer of most of the writing I’d done, causing me to panic. Five days and three failed attempts later, it dawned on me that I’d never see those files again. It took two years to get over the slump I fell into as a result.

Despite various attempts to try and move on, my depressive state consumed me. I rarely smiled, I struggled to eat, my sleep patterns were ruined and my schoolwork started to suffer in quality. It wasn’t until my senior year that I was able to actually move on. Even now, I sometimes regret not retrieving what I lost. It was tough.

I mention this because I hadn’t seen an action movie accurately portray the emptiness of depression until Thunderbolts*. I’d seen other genres deal with it, like Inside Out, but the action landscape felt more concerned with explosions and carnage. So it was to my surprise that a Marvel movie would finally tackle that. But that’s what happened.

Taking place after Captain America: Brave New World, the film centres around Yelena Belova, former Black Widow operative and step-sister to Natasha Romanov, spiralling into emotional emptiness over her thankless job. Despite being good at her work, Yelena longs for meaning, which she feels she’s lacking. When a botched attempt at being incinerated forces her to team up with fellow operatives, Yelena discovers a man, named Bob, who’s suffering from an identity crisis. Who’s Bob really, and is he as helpless as he believes?

Unlike many, I’ve enjoyed Marvel’s post-Phase 3 stuff a lot. Much of it’s been better than people let on, and some of it’s even fantastic. Still, I recognize that The MCU’s been having serious identity issues, throwing around ideas and stories that haven’t gone anywhere. It’s felt like the franchise has been unsure of itself in recent years, which is why Thunderbolts* is so remarkable. Like the titular heroine, this is the franchise finding its way after years in the dark.

Perhaps its biggest accomplishment is giving a face to depression. Sentry, the movie’s antagonist, isn’t evil. He’s also Bob, and he struggles with depression. He might be super-powered, but he’s also unstable. He has plenty of grief from the cards dealt to him, and it makes him dangerous as his darkest form. I like how that adds layers to him.

Sentry’s instability manifests as a void of darkness. True to real life, Sentry’s most dangerous when he doesn’t feel anything. He absorbs others and spreads his darkness like a plague, a fitting representation of how depression can negatively impact those around us. It’s great writing, and I appreciate how, unlike past enemies, Bob’s only able to defeat this void with the help of his friends. Because no explosions or fistfights can overcome a hug.

This is the kind of writing I never thought I’d see from The MCU, but I’m glad I did. I like The MCU, but it routinely shies away from such material because it’s too emotionally-heavy. Thunderbolts*, however, tackles it without second-guessing itself, which I appreciate. It validates the concerns and frustrations surrounding depression in an honest and sensitive manner. It also does this with conversation, as opposed to violence.

Above everything, this is the most mature story The MCU has ever tackled. And I don’t mean that in a violent or sexual way. People complain that Marvel movies don’t “intellectually stimulate” their target audience, but here’s one that does that with a mental health disorder. Depression’s rarely outwardly-visible, so seeing Bob’s struggles visually is a great way to show how dangerous they are.

That’s not to say the writing’s perfect. Aside from some jokes that don’t land, I’m disappointed Taskmaster was killed off early on. Additionally, Valentina, arguably the scummiest character, never received her comeuppance, instead becoming a PR person for “The New Avengers”. And speaking of which, the title, which was spoiled in the film’s marketing, isn’t that creative or exciting, even if it makes sense. So yes, the movie has its share of issues.

But none of that overrides its strengths, specifically how it humanizes and visualizes the brain imbalance known as Depression. The entire time I watched the movie, particularly the scenes with Bob, I felt a pang in my chest knowing that I’ve been there. Depression, or any other mental illness, isn’t fun. It’s often debilitating, despite what many may claim. In that sense, watching this validates it, and it validates it respectfully.

I know not everyone will like this movie. As with all MCU entries, your mileage will vary, and that’s okay. But if Thunderbolts* is indicative of anything, it’s that detractors have sold the franchise short. Because it still has some tricks and surprises up its sleeve, and this is one of them. I only hope that’s enough to win critics over.

Andor's Big Problem...Resolved?

Three years ago, I ripped into Season 1 of Andor. Despite not hating it, I mentioned that the pacing and writing held it back somewhat. And since the finale ended a cliffhanger, I knew there’d be more to come. My only hope was it’d be an improvement over what’d transpired. So now that I’ve seen Season 2, I have one word to describe it:

Wow.

I’d like to apologize for ever doubting Tony Gilroy. Despite Season 2 containing many of the issues from Season 1, including scenes that drag, he’s embraced the criticism he received and fixed what didn’t work. This is no more apparent than in the opening arc, which starts with an action scene less than 5 minutes into the first episode. Seeing Andor blow up an Imperial Hangar while inside a TIE Fighter informed me this’d be a snappier season. It was awesome.

And it didn’t disappoint. It’d be easy to have the best moment upfront, but Gilroy’s smart enough to save his biggest surprises for later. If the first three episodes were the hook, the next three episodes were when Season 2 showed it was the superior season. Episodes 4-6 were standard affair for Andor, reverting to status quo, but they were also much more interesting. We got more development regarding Imperial deception and how it impacted the world of Star Wars, and it was done in such a way that I was never bored. Considering Season 1’s prison arc wasn’t that interesting, despite having plenty of meaty subtext, that I got more out of an exposition scene in Episode 4 than I did in than the entirety of that arc is astounding on many levels.

Season 2’s biggest strength was getting me to care about its characters. Specifically, its characters’ names. It’s a bad sign when I sit through an entire season of a show not giving a damn about anyone other than its namesake, but that was my experience with Season 1. Season 2, however, was the opposite. Suddenly, that scummy Imperial officer was Dedra. Cassian’s love-interest was Bix. That office worker with an overbearing mother was Syril. And Cassian’s boss was Luthen.

It sounds like I’m selling everyone short, as they weren’t badly-written, but that was how little an impact they’d made on me. Yet that wasn’t the case here. Much more investment was present here, such that it felt like playing catch-up with the cast. It didn’t work 100%, I can’t tell you Syril’s mom’s name, but it worked enough. Another point in Season 2’s favour.

Outside of that, there was more suspense and drama this time. Whether it was action scenes like those on Ghorman, or something as simple as debugging an artifact, Andor Season 2 never stopped keeping me on the edge of my seat. Nowhere was this more-apparent than the two big heists in the second half, neither of which I’ll spoil. They felt more like Star Wars than anything in the first season, and that had a major heist too. It’s both impressive and sad.

All of this is tied together with the snappier arcs, made more intense with the ticking clock in each three-episode arc. Season 1 didn’t have that sense of urgency, so constantly being reminded that BBY was this franchise’s D-Day was enough to keep me alert. Even in the boring parts, like the wedding, the countdown made it worth it. It also made the emotional moments more impactful, such that I actually shed a tear in Episode 10’s finale. That’s a good sign.

Season 2 redeemed Andor for me, re-contextualizing what’d happened prior. It doesn’t change my mind about Season 1, and I still think “prestige drama” isn’t the best fit for a series about space wizards and Nazis, but I commend Gilroy for sticking the landing. He may not be a big Star Wars fan, even openly admitting that, but Season 2 shows that he gets the material and can deliver if given a chance. If you’d have told me that when the trailer for Season 2 debuted, I’d have laughed. But I guess it’s true.

I know I’m coming off as unduly-harsh, to which I apologize. Still, many people love this show, and it’d feel wrong to not be honest. I love Star Wars! And it want it to take risks like this! But I also don’t want my time wasted, something Andor didn’t always understand. Season 2 isn’t even perfect, containing some of the same flaws that bothered me with Season 1! However, it manages to work around them, to the point where it almost didn’t bother me. Almost.

Anyway, consider this my formal apology to Mr. Gilroy. He may frustrate me as a creative, enough to criticize his work on a Star Wars show, but I might’ve been too hard on him initially in 2022. He definitely fixed the biggest problem I had with the show for Season 2, and for that I’m grateful. Though please, never make Star Wars into a prestige drama again. Once was enough, thank you!

DK's Big Glow-Up

Last month, I wrote about the Switch 2’s price, and how it was unavoidable. I stand by what I said, but it got me thinking about a less-inspired controversy that’s arisen from the Switch 2 reveal. It’s ludicrous, but it’s time I nip it in the bud. Let’s discuss Donkey Kong’s redesign. Pray for my sanity…

It’s not like DK hasn’t had redesigns. Most gamers remember his appearance from the 90’s, as that’s been used for over three decades, but he didn’t always look that way. When the gorilla debuted in 1981, he looked drastically different. It was only with Rare and 1994’s Donkey Kong Country that we got the design we know and love. And even then, he’s had tweaks over the years.

While I love the Rare design, it makes sense to revise it. Mascots go through changes constantly, and DK hasn’t updated his look in 31 years. That might not seem like a long time, but remember that Mickey Mouse had several updates in his first 31 years. Compare his appearance in Steamboat Willie to his appearance in Fantasia. Ignoring the redesigns in-between, that was a huge difference! And it was only 12-years!

Character redesigns happen frequently, and Donkey Kong’s no different. I’m actually surprised it didn’t happen sooner, and more frequently, given how many games he’s been in since 1994. It seems overdue. And if it’s a surprise? Well…that’s why most gamers aren’t in marketing.

I don’t mind the redesign. It might take getting used to, but it’s much more expressive to work with. We’ve seen that with the gameplay footage of Donkey Kong Bananza, which is releasing in July of this year. The new model has eyes and arms that are easier to work with than the Rare design, which was showing its limitations. And yes, it does feel largely inspired by The Super Mario Bros. Movie, particularly in the eyes. But is that necessarily bad?

People forget that redesigns are often calculated decisions. They don’t always work, but they’re not accidents. Link goes through drastic redesigns with almost every new Zelda game, and some are drastic. But while the Hylian hero might always reinvent himself, he’s still quintessentially-Link. That much isn’t changing.

So why’s the new design for Donkey Kong controversial? My guess is that an entire generation of gamers grew up with his Rare model. Remember, people are averse to change. #NotMyDonkeyKong, as the mantra goes. But while it might make sense to be against this redesign superficially, it’s still the same character. He loves eating bananas and punching enemies, and he enjoys go-karting. If the change is a dealbreaker for some, then it’s their loss!

Perhaps there’s some animosity over Nintendo’s push of this redesign, enough that it seems like there’s been retroactive scrubbing of older ones? While I won’t deny how that feels like revisionist history, it’s also not new. Cereal mascots change all the time, and that includes phasing out older variants. Millennials like myself remember the 90’s versions of Tony the Tiger and Snap, Crackle and Pop, but they were redesigns of their classic iterations from 30 and 40 years prior. And they’ve been changed since for younger generations. DK getting a redesign’s another example of that.

Maybe there’s even frustration over abandoning Rare’s design? I get being attached to them, especially since they once made great games, but Donkey Kong existed before Rare breathed new life into him. Rare might’ve given him his look, but they never owned him. They simply put a then-new spin on him, and not everything about the IP stayed consistent once Rare was purchased by Microsoft. (Need I remind everyone that Diddy Kong used to have Rare’s logo on his cap?)

Being attached to something that no longer exists, while fun, isn’t healthy. Yes, Rare made great games…but that was over 20 years ago. A lot has changed, including most of the original team leaving the studio. That they struck gold with Nintendo’s simian may not have been an accident, but that doesn’t mean Nintendo hasn’t made good games with him since. They might be different, but they exist!

I think this really boils down to gamers looking for reasons to complain. This also happened with the redesign of Princess Peach for Princess Peach: Showtime!, and it was ridiculous there too. People are turning nitpicks into their entire personalities, even though it’s nonsensical. Because it’s not healthy to focus on these trivial details, even if it feels good in the moment. I wish that was widely-understood.

Personally, while I don’t mind the new look, I understand being apprehensive. Not only have I had a mental image of what DK’s looked like since I was 4, hence it’s jarring seeing such a drastic change, but I’ll have to readjust to this design. It’ll take time to get used to, as I still see Donkey Kong through a Rare lens. But it’ll happen. And it’ll happen with the complainers if they give it a chance. I hope they do.

All About Abby

I’m not a fan of The Last of Us. There’s no personal reason, I simply don’t own Sony’s consoles. I also can’t watch the TV series because I’m Canadian, so I can’t comment much. What I can comment on is the big “controversy”. In particular, the toxicity surrounding it, and how that spilled into real life. Because, simply put, it’s wrong.

Let’s back up. I had to look up what was fuelling this controversy, and I found a commentary on the cycle of violence that some fans couldn’t comprehend. It’s one issue to be unhappy with the subtext of the series. I have thoughts myself, but they’re irrelevant here. It’s another issue altogether to take something in fiction and use it to harass and threaten someone. But that’s what’s happened here…twice.

It started with Laura Bailey, who voiced Abby in the video game. Ignoring her actions in the story, which are meant as a message, Bailey received backlash and threats for voicing her. Criticism’s inevitable in the entertainment industry, but a line gets crossed when said criticism becomes toxic. And it was with Bailey, such that her son was impacted.

This toxicity has resurfaced with The Last of Us on HBO. I know the show’s received plenty of praise, but with Season 2 adapting Abby’s violent behaviour, her actor, Kaitlyn Dever, has been receiving the same vitriol Bailey received. Never mind that it should’ve been snuffed out already, we’re now seeing a repeat of this toxicity with an actress who’s also been reeling with the pain of a family tragedy.

A while back, I wrote about how actors aren’t necessarily the characters they play. In it, I mentioned that while a good actor brings life experience to a role, they’re still performing. Performing’s pretending, so while the point of acting’s to look like you’re not acting, it also needs to be acknowledged as acting. Unfortunately, many fans don’t see the distinction, and as a result have ruined actors’ lives. Simply Google what happened to Ahmed Best...

You’re allowed to not like a character. Plenty of well-loved stories have unlikable characters, some of whom are supposed to be. But that’s not an excuse to be a jerk to someone playing that character. After all, actors take on many roles in their careers, good and bad, as that’s part of acting. You have to take risks to maintain employment.

With Bailey and Dever, I can’t help wonder if sexism’s playing a role in this. You may not approve of the actresses bringing life to a murderer, but Abby’s behaviour isn’t any worse than John Wick or Deadpool. With the former, he goes on a revenge spree after thugs murder his dog. With the latter, he goes on a revenge spree after Francis robs him of his beauty. Both have massive body counts, complete with gruesome deaths. And with the latter, you can argue he’s more monstrous than Francis!

That John Wick and Deadpool can get away with this, yet Abby can’t, is far more telling than any message The Last of Us imparts to its audience. Because while John Wick and Deadpool are sociopathic, we love them anyway. Meanwhile, Abby bludgeons a man to death, and she’s suddenly detestable? Why don’t Keanu Reeves and Ryan Reynolds get the same hate as Laura Bailey and Kaitlyn Dever?

This is why I don’t think fans deserve entertainment. If Captain Marvel’s all-powerful, she’s a Mary Sue. If Superman’s all-powerful, he’s doing his job. Princess Nausicaä can’t be the impartial mediator Prince Ashitaka is, despite having somewhat-similar struggles. And Abby can’t be a sociopath without her actresses receiving death threats, even though John Wick and Deadpool have higher body counts. Don’t you see how messed up that is?

The lack of media literacy fans have is beyond appalling. Again, you’re not required to like Abby. Based on what little I’ve read, she horrifies me too. But threatening the women who brought life to her, to the point of invading their personal lives, is unacceptable. There’s a line between not liking a character, and being hateful to their actors. This is crossed when the former turns into abuse toward the latter.

I’m not sure why I have to reiterate this clearly-sensible position: don’t be a dick to actors. You don’t have to like the characters they play. You don’t even have to like them! But if you’re going to be critical, it should be for legitimate reasons. Not liking the character they played isn’t a legitimate reason. That’s basic human decency.

Perhaps I wouldn’t be so infuriated if this hatred didn’t have consequences. Going back to Ahmed Best, his role as Jar Jar Binks was so despised that people sent him death threats for years. It got to be so bad that he contemplated suicide, ultimately deciding against it. I’m glad he’s still around, but he deserved better. Because Jar Jar Binks, ignoring whatever grievances people had, was a character.

So yes, I’m embarrassed that Laura Bailey and Kaitlyn Dever went through hell over this. I’m embarrassed because it’s impacted their personal lives, and I’m embarrassed because it shows a lack of fandom maturity. But most-importantly, I’m embarrassed because they were acting. You can argue about Abby’s likability, but that’s no excuse to send threats. We need to do better.

Toy Story Snore?

Ever see a YouTube video that makes you cringe? That was my takeaway from Nerdstalgic’s critique of Toy Story 4. And while I know that everyone’s entitled to have opinions, I found he deliberately misrepresented points to sound more negative than necessary. So I feel a rebuttal’s in order. Especially since Nerdstalgic also came off like he was pandering.

I should mention that I’m Subscribed to Nerdstalgic. While he plays up his opinions to game the algorithm, some of his stuff’s actually insightful. I especially liked his video about the freeway chase in The Matrix Reloaded, as it went into the nitty-gritty of how it was created and filmed. However, lately I’ve felt he’s been using popular media as punching bags. Toy Story 4’s another victim of that.

I won’t do a play-by-play of everything, but I’ll mention now that Nerdstalgic covers two main arguments. The first is how Toy Story 4’s unnecessary, created solely for profit. Ignoring how every movie is designed on some level to make money, I think this claim’s reductive. When people call a sequel “unnecessary”, they’re really claiming it doesn’t add anything. Toy Story 4’s the opposite of that. Not only does it expand on Woody’s growth, giving him a new purpose outside of children, it also adds character to Bo Peep, who was absent from Toy Story 3. Specifically, it retcons her into a capable heroine no longer exclusively tied down to being a love interest.

Let’s zone-in on that. When it was revealed that Bo Peep would be getting a redesign, many people were livid. They considered it a betrayal, even though she wasn’t all that interesting prior. Between the first two movies, I’m pretty sure Bo Peep had a handful of lines, and most were in service of Woody. Here, not only was she fleshed-out, but she also had intrigue and history. Considering the in-universe time jump from the beginning of the movie to when Woody reencounters her, it’s implied Bo Peep had given up kids because there was too much heartbreak. That, and the bandages around her arms suggested roughhousing.

Toy Story 4 also added a further layer of development to Woody specifically. If Toy Story 3 had him moving on from a single kid, then this movie had him moving on from kids altogether. Like an adult moving away, he’d grown up and retired. It sounds like a betrayal of character, but this was foreshadowed retroactively with Woody’s opening speech in Toy Story. It wasn’t out-of-place here, essentially.

And this is why I think Nerdstalgic was off-base. Toy Story 3 provided closure, but for Andy. That was his final chapter, not Woody’s. Woody, however, had more growing up to do, and he got that by learning to move on from ownership. It’s an arc that could’ve only concluded with a fourth movie.

The second complaint Nerdstalgic mentions is detracting from previous toys in favour of new, uninteresting ones. This is incredibly-unfair, especially since Jessie and Bullseye, two beloved mainstays, were once “uninteresting” newcomers themselves. Nerdstalgic complains about shafting Mr. Potato Head, even though his VA, Don Rickles, had passed away prior to this movie’s completion, hence Pixar had to use archived recordings. His complaints about Buzz are spot-on, but I doubt that there was much else to do with him that didn’t revolve around resetting him to his factory mode personality.

In terms of new characters, I can’t disagree more. Duke Caboom’s a great addition, even having a hilarious pay-off in the third-act. Ducky and Bunny are basically Key & Peele in animated form, letting them do their shenanigans without it being too mature or violent. And Forky lends to a genuinely-existential question of what it means to be a toy. But the real MVP’s Gabby Gabby. She’s initially the antagonist, but she becomes much more layered over time. She even gets redeemed in the third-act, leading to one of the two moments that actually made me cry.

None of these characters are wasted. It’d be one issue if they were disposable, even though the Toy Story franchise has always centred around disposable toys. But Toy Story 4’s new inclusions are no more wasted than Ken in Toy Story 3. Which is to say, they weren’t. By calling them “disposable”, I think that Nerdstalgic’s doing them a disservice.

This ties in with my biggest defence of this movie: subverting expectations with real logic. Many diehards were disappointed with Bonnie not cherishing Woody, but it’s important to remember that Bonnie’s different than Andy. Plus, she’s a girl, and would naturally favour Jessie over Woody because of that. And she’s 5, so expecting her to cherish Woody like a teenager or young adult is unrealistic.

That realism’s foreshadowed in the movie’s opening scene. We’re given a huge rescue scene in the rain involving Woody, Bo Peep and RC, only for it to end abruptly with Andy’s sister, Molly, relinquishing ownership of Bo Peep because she’s too old for her. As someone who’s seen his nieces and nephew grow up, I relate to that. Kids grow out of toys for many reasons, and not all of them are ones we like. In that sense, expecting Bonnie to be another Andy isn’t only unfair, it’s not the correct approach. That’s something more people need to understand, Nerdstalgic included.

Nerdstalgic using Quentin Tarantino as the closing argument in his video, therefore, doesn’t sit right. Not only is Tarantino not the be-all-end-all, he’s also not the target audience. He’s allowed to like the Toy Story films, as they’re all good (so far), but he’s an adult. He’s not the target age they’re intended for, and making him the arbiter feels like gatekeeping. Who’s he to tell children, let alone fans, how to enjoy this movie? That doesn’t sound fair!

Does this mean Toy Story 4 doesn’t have flaws? Of course not! Buzz’s character regressions aside, Woody’s rediscovery of Bo Beep was too contrived and convenient. Considering he hadn’t seen her in almost a decade, for her to still be in California, let alone one of the stops Bonnie and her parents go to, feels forced. I also think the climactic joke involving Bonnie’s dad and the RV’s navigation, while funny, goes on for too long. Finally, Gabby Gabby’s obsession with Harmony was clearly going to fail, and the movie dwells on it too much.

However, if those are the movie’s biggest flaws, then Toy Story 4’s a much better movie than Nerdstalgic claims. And yeah, he’s entitled to not like Pixar’s recent sequels, even if I’ve enjoyed some more than most. But that shouldn’t be conflated with the movie being a “lazy cash-grab”. If anything, I think this movie’s due for reappraising. I only hope it’s honest, as opposed to what Nerdstalgic presented.

Jekyll and Hyde

(Note: This piece contains spoilers for The Substance. You’ve been warned.)

I’m turning 35 in July. That doesn’t technically make me “old”, but I’m not as spry as I used to be. My stomach rebels against me if I overeat, and I experience back and muscle spasms constantly. And while I feel youthful mentally, that most of my peers have either gotten married or had children occasionally makes me feel more aged than I am. Basically, getting older sucks. Especially when reality moves on without you.

While I feel time slipping me by, I also benefit from being a male. I’ve never experienced societal pressures about aging from the perspective of a woman, which is infinitely worse. Men getting older don’t have it “easy”, but for women it can be a nightmare. That’s why my viewing of The Substance was eye-opening. It was also somewhat off-putting.

The Substance is about aging actress Elisabeth Sparkle. Once an award-winning icon, she’s now a fitness instructor for middle-aged women on television. When her boss fires her on her 50th birthday, Elisabeth becomes desperate and wishes for a new lease on life. She gets that with The Substance, allowing her to live for 7 days at a time as a younger, fitter person. Unfortunately, Elisabeth, and her counterpart Sue, don’t see eye-to-eye, and they begin to clash.

Right from the opening, which is a microcosm of the movie, I knew this wasn’t going to be pleasant. If seeing Elisabeth’s Hollywood star cracked wasn’t subtle enough, the passerby dropping his lunch and trying to clean it up definitely drove home how fleeting Hollywood is. Even the prettiest stars become washed up over time, irrespective of how much Botox or plastic surgery they have. You can’t escape aging, essentially. It’s a shame so many people learn this the hard way.

The movie’s main conflict is of dual realities. The Substance, inspired by Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, focuses on Elisabeth and Sue’s duality, and how that impacts their relationship. Elisabeth considers Sue a leech who frequently feeds off of her life-force. Sue, in contrast, reviles Elisabeth, considering her a grotesque slob who doesn’t clean up after herself. Both are valid outlooks, but they ignore the stresses society places on them, something The Substance program exploits.

Everything reaches a head in the third-act, when a decrepit and withered Elisabeth gets fed up with Sue and tries terminating her existence. She doesn’t have the heart to do it, so she revives her to free her from their tether. Sue, mistaking this, kills Elisabeth, only to regret it when her body starts falling apart. So she takes The Substance again…and turns into an abomination known as Monstro. It’s here where the real tragedy and body horror kick in, complete with a climax where Monstro bleeds on an entire auditorium as her body crumbles from instability.

Even with the opening scene spelling this out, I wasn’t prepared for this. But maybe that’s the point? After all, Sue had been leeching on her host’s energy in order to stay youthful, and this was the consequence. Like the doctor who recommended The Substance pointed out in the diner, it wouldn’t take long before the younger model started abusing the process. It got me wondering if that doctor had regrets, but I guess that’s not relevant? Either way, food for thought.

The bigger theme is that of misogyny, particularly surrounding ageism. All throughout the movie, Elisabeth and Sue are judged by men. For Elisabeth, it’s because of her age “wearing out her beauty”, while with Sue it revolves around treating her like a play toy. This duality’s personified most with Harvey, a gross and greedy executive who objectifies them both. If the close-up of him eating crawfish wasn’t indicative, he only cares about his bottom line. It’s for this reason that I wish Monstro had murdered him as an act of revenge.

Perhaps the one glimmer of hope for Elisabeth is Fred. Fred sees Elisabeth for who she truly is, and he tries catching up with her at a fancy restaurant. Unfortunately, this is when Elisabeth’s starting to struggle with Sue overstepping her bounds, so she’s a no-show. That’s when I genuinely started feeling bad, especially since I’ve called off plans multiple times for health reasons before. If it can happen to her, it can happen to anyone. Especially with those who care.

My takeaway from The Substance is twofold: one, society places too much emphasis on staying young. This is at the expense of aging individuals, particularly woman, and their “less desired attributes”. I know the youth love railing on older generations, and not undeservedly, for issues they inherited, but sometimes it’s excessive. After all, they deserve dignity! And what’ll happen when the young become old? Will the tables turn on them?

And two, people should enjoy life, even when they’re old. I only have one surviving grandparent, and she’s recuperating from an injury. It’s been challenging for the whole family, and she’s not happy, but I frequently remind her to be thankful that her cognition’s intact. Because, at almost-92, that’s remarkable. Especially given how many of her friends are worse off than her.

The Substance is the perfect companion piece to Thelma, another movie from last year dealing with aging. It’s not as accessible, and it’s much gorier, raunchier and grosser, but the idea that we should value and embrace growing old, not neglect and ignore it, is still as prevalent. I have to credit Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley for their brilliant performances as Elisabeth and Sue, as it’s not easy pulling off that duality. The same goes for director Coralie Fargeat, who rooted this movie in her own experiences with aging.

There’s been much talk about how The Substance was robbed at The Academy Awards. I can’t say for sure if it deserved Best Picture, but I do see the argument for it warranting more respect. After all, if Parasite can win Best Picture, and that was also graphic, then why can’t The Substance? It’s not exactly for everyone, but it intrigued me. And I’m no horror fan!