Mario's Melodic Maps

Super Mario Bros. 3 is awesome. It’s not only widely-regarded to be the best NES Mario platformer, it’s also one of my favourite Mario games. Yet while there’s much to discuss, I think the unsung hero’s the music. Particularly the overworld map tunes, which are still impressive over 37 years later. So why not discuss them? Yeah, let’s do that.

As always, this list is subjective. Also, I’m ranking these not only by how good they are, but also by how well they complement their respective maps:

9. Warp Zone

I’m going to say something controversial: if I were judging it solely on its catchiness, this’d be near the top of the list. Not only does it evoke the feeling of being swept away to a heavenly place, it’s easily the catchiest tune in Mario’s pantheon. So much so that it’s been referenced in future Mario games to underscore otherworldly retreats from reality, like in Super Mario Sunshine where you visit a 5-star hotel. It’s so lulling that it even can put me to sleep. That’s not easy given that I have insomnia.

However, we’re not judging solely on music. Warp Zone’s definitely relaxing, but its map isn’t essential. It can also only be accessed with a Warp Whistle, of which there are only a handful. And the map allows you to, as implied by the name, warp to other levels, making it feel like cheating. Essentially, this is really a placeholder, one most gamers will never experience.

Nevertheless, I really like it. Super Mario Bros. 3’s notorious for pushing the envelope of The Nintendo Entertainment System/Famicom, and this encapsulates that. After all, it’s a tune in a dreamlike environment! And it’s entrancing! What’s not to love? I’m waiting for an answer…

8. Castle of Koopa

Moving on to entries you’ll actually experience, Castle of Koopa is one of the weaker entries here. I say that both as music, and a map. Musically it’s haunting, but Super Mario World revamped it with its final boss theme. It keeps getting darker and darker, but never resolves itself melodically. Instead, it loops endlessly, made more frustrating by the map having sections that feel disconnected geographically. One section even occurs in darkness, and it’s annoying keeping track of my location.

If there’s one area where this is saved, it’s in the feeling of doom and gloom. This is the final world, and it lets you know that. Between the map being surrounded by flames, interruptions from thunder and hands that drag you into specific levels, the game knows that you’re nearing the end. It throws out all the stops to make you earn your victory. Couple that with Princess Peach being held captive by Bowser, and the stakes couldn’t be higher.

I know this is low on the list, but I don’t dislike Castle of Koopa. Quite the contrary! I like all these tunes! But it doesn’t do it for me like the others do. You’re entitled to disagree, though. And I wouldn’t begrudge you for it.

7. The Sky

Another low entry, The Sky’s tune isn’t terribly inspired. The only point of note is the drum beat, which begins with a bang before repeating on loop. It’s a shame because the map itself is unique and inspired, with the first and second halves divided by a fake-out castle where you ascend to-you guessed it-the sky. I’m not sure why this tune was chosen for this map. Couldn’t it have been swapped with Warp Zone? That’d make more sense!

Whatever! For what it is, it’s catchy. The banging of the drum makes it hard to get out of your head, and that’s good because there’s not much else to discuss. It’s a repeat of the drum, interspersed with mildly-catchy notes. Those notes prevent it from getting stale. That’s it.

But…why have this be the choice for such a cool map? Seriously, no other world changes thematic layouts halfway through, not even the one with Bowser! You couldn’t have come up with a better choice of music? Really?! Oh well!

6. Big Island

Come to think of it, The Sky and Big Island should’ve swapped places. Why? Because the former’s otherworldly, while this map’s gimmick is that everything’s gigantic. Since the enemies here can stomp you flat or paralyze you temporarily by ground-pounding a platform, a heavy drum beat fits. Instead, here’s a high-energy disco theme with a fast beat and a catchy melody. Okay, sure.

That harmonic dissonance is Big Island’s greatest strength and greatest weakness. On the plus side, it’s really catchy, preparing you for enemies three times their normal size. On the flip side, that makes you feel intimidated in each level. Having the map beat pump you up only gets you so far before you freak out. It’s a weird choice to have, essentially.

Still, does Big Island’s theme work? Yes. Yes it does. It’s not only easy to hum, it’s also faster-paced than everything else, making it unique. I simply wish it’d been used for a different level.

5. Pipe Maze

Pipe Maze is a fittingly middle-of-the-road entry. As a tune, it evokes film noir in its vibes, like you’re traversing an underground economy. This is complimented by the map being interconnected pipe mazes, with each taking you somewhere new and unexpected. Essentially, the marriage of music and level theme is perfect. It’s a classic example of “setup” and “payoff”, which is what you’d expect. So why isn’t it higher?

For two reasons. And both have to do with the world’s gimmick. For one, a level map themed on pipes isn’t terribly inspired. Yes, the levels are unique, relying on the concept of interconnected pipes. But pipes being the modus operandi is annoying. Couldn’t the game have chosen something more inspired?

And two, these pipes can be frustrating. Not only in the levels, but also in the overworld map. I frequently find myself trying to figure out which pipes take me to which sections, and for someone with a faulty working memory that can be challenging. Factor in that this is an 80s game, and those are notorious for not giving any guidance, and it’s easy to become confused. So while the tune is neat, the world…not as much.

4. Desert Hill

Getting to the upper-half, Desert Hill’s what I remember most as a kid, with it being exotic. But that could also be because I never progressed past it until I beat the game as an adult. Still, it’s really awesome. Whenever I listen to it, I picture the hot, glaring Sun beaming down on me like I’m in The Sahara, and it’s fitting that it’s attached to a desert-like map. Go figure!

That’s a testament to this level though, as well as its tune. Ignoring how Desert Hill was the bane of my youth, the tune feels like it’s drawing from Arabian-style music. This is especially-apparent in how sly and slow its notes are, really dragging the feeling of being in a harsh, unforgiving climate. Which, for all intents and purposes, isn’t untrue to what’s going on. But I digress.

What sells it is the terrain of the map. Not only does it have a lot of sandy browns, but there are pyramids and mini-oases scattered everywhere. It’s no surprise future Mario titles would take inspiration from this level, because it works. It anchors you with sand dunes, pyramids and an angry Sun that tries to kill you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

3. Iced Land

One of the biggest strengths of Iced Land is that it’s endured enough to be referenced in the Paper Mario series. That’s because, despite the map being a tundra, there’s an eery, ethereal quality that gives me shivers listening to it. Snow levels in Mario games aren’t usually this eery, and the world map glistening periodically from the ice caps makes you feel like you’ve entered a hellish world you have to escape from. Either that, or survive. I’m unsure if one or both are true.

That said, the tune is quite powerful. A tundra, like a desert, is notorious for being harsh and difficult to live in, as the only major difference between the two is temperature. That’s right, a tundra’s basically a frozen desert! And while you’d think a tundra would be worse, because it’s colder, it’s not. Still, it’s nice to think that anyway. And the tune here doesn’t convince you otherwise.

Another advantage? This tune’s similar to Castle of Koopa, complete with a lack of resolution, but it works so much better. Because while Castle of Koopa’s lack of wholeness is frustrating due to the map itself, as well as being improved upon in future titles, Iced Land drills home the existential dread that compliments the map perfectly. That’s hard to do, since Mario games rarely have foreboding themes for their “Winter levels”. You can’t help admiring that, which is why I love it.

2. Ocean Side

And here we get to my favourite map tune. It’s not the “best” one, we’ll get there, but it’s my favourite. Why? Simple: it became the file select music for the Zelda franchise. That’s right, one of that series’ greatest pieces of music started as Ocean Side. Is your mind blown?

It should be! Aside from both franchises having the same composer, hence cross-pollination, this particular tune’s also really memorable. It might actually be too memorable, as this map’s gimmick is water. Lots and lots of water. Water’s usually a video game designer’s biggest irritant, as it’s hard to program. So for an otherwise frustrating concept to be underscored by such awesome music? It’s jarring, and I mean that in a good way.

It's especially jarring because water levels in Mario games are my least-favourite. Swimming and floating in an element not weighted by gravity can be challenging, made worse by Mario moving slower than if on land. My most frustrating experiences with Super Mario Bros. 3 involved navigating water levels for that reason. So for a tune to bring this map so many rungs higher up with its melody alone? That’s the highest praise I can give this Zelda tune prototype.

1. Grass Land

Now we get to the “best” map tune. Picture this: it’s 1990, or 1988 in Japan, and you’ve purchased Super Mario Bros. 3. You take it home, pop it into your console and press the power button. After the intro screen, you’re greeted to the game’s first map. And alongside learning the ropes, you’re greeted to a catchy jingle with hummable bops. In those first 5 seconds, the game’s music has already imprinted on you.

Doesn’t that make you feel good? I know it does for me! And I like how, despite being short and looped, Grass Land’s a complete melody. It has a tune that it remixes in three different ways, each with a brief silence afterward, and then it ends. That’s some impressive sound design for an 8-bit game that’s testing its console’s limitations.

Additionally, it’s fun to listen to! It’s fun to listen to in the game, and it’s fun to listen to on its own. The map itself is good on its own, but this? This glorious tune? A tune that’s an iconic bop in its own right? That it resonates with me now like it did when I was younger is a testament to its timeless. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

And that about does it for me! Feel free to listen to the tunes yourselves, and I’ll see you next time!

CGI Isn't "Bad"

6 years ago, I wrote about CGI in filmmaking. Specifically, I mentioned this:

“CGI, or computer-generated imagery, is a tool to tell a story. Like every storytelling tool, it’s best used as a prop in service of it, not directly opposed to it. There are good uses of it, and bad uses of it, and both appear frequently. Sometimes you won’t even know that TV or film has used it, as it’s so ubiquitous with both formats. CGI isn’t good or bad, but a neutral force that goes either way.”

I went on to discuss how people don’t give CGI enough respect, even listing examples where it excelled. However, that was 6 years ago. Some people haven’t received the memo, like Nerdstalgic. He even uploaded a video discussing his gripes with CGI, suggesting it was “killing practical effects”. And so I figured I’d respond to his “old man yells at cloud” arguments. Brace yourselves.

I’ll begin with his selection of movies. Specifically, Nerdstalgic uses the opening of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness to discuss being pulled from the experience. I like that movie, flaws aside, and I doubt that CGI’s one of its problems. If anything, not using CGI would’ve made the opening not work, as Doctor Strange and America Chavez are fleeing from an inter-dimensional monster. We’re supposed to feel disoriented because they feel disoriented.

This highlights the issue with Nerdstalgic’s choice of movies: he’s cherry-picking. It’s one issue to complain about bad CGI. It’s another to complain about an over-reliance on CGI, only to use an example of where it was necessary. That’s dishonest criticism, completely missing the forest for the trees. It’s something 5 minutes of research would mark as a red flag.

Another problem I have is his pining for practical effects, saying that they “add to the immersion” more than CGI. I don’t know if I agree. For one, practical effects can also be done badly. I immediately think of 1987’s Robocop, specifically when Alex Murphy shoots the movie’s big baddie and sends him plummeting out a window. The death uses stop-motion animation, and it looks awful. I know there were production complications surrounding this moment, but still. Bad practical effects exist.

And two, practical effects, save being costly and difficult to execute, are often dangerous. We can admire the truck flipping in The Dark Knight, but a stuntman died. CGI not only does the work faster and cheaper, but also safer. Perhaps that truck flip wouldn’t have been as impressive with computers, but I’ll suspend my disbelief knowing no one was injured. Isn’t that what matters?

By pining for practical effects for immersion, Nerdstalgic, again, misses the forest for the trees. It’s true that practical effects tend to be more immersive because they’re tangible, but CGI can be equally impressive. No one complains that Gravity was directed on a soundstage because it looks so convincing, never mind that filming in space is nigh-impossible. Additionally, Pandora in the Avatar franchise still looks stunning, only becoming more-so with each new entry. This is despite almost none of it being practical.

There’s also Nerdstalgic’s complaint about overlaying CGI with practical effects, as if the audience can’t handle real locations. He points to the cliff jump in the most-recent Mission Impossible movie, which was initially shot on a ramp. I don’t get the issue: isn’t the jump what matters? Tom Cruise drove a motorcycle off a chasm and onto a train, and you’re worried about a ramp? Really?!

Immersion isn’t solely about “looking real”. Something can “look real” and not be immersive, especially when done with artificial intelligence. What matters is “feeling real”, and CGI can accomplish that. I’d list examples, but there are too many. Even movies that use plenty of practical effects, like Mad Max: Fury Road, anchor them with CGI in places where practical work is impossible (such as the tornado storm). That matters more than how it was made.

Tangibility also isn’t exclusive to practical effects. Nor is an artist’s vision. Nerdstalgic points to how older movies feel more timeless because the artist had complete control, as opposed to modern movies having studio executives scribbling notes. There are so many issues there, particularly how that’s not about CGI, but the big one is that “true auteurs” still exist. And even with older auteurs, they had input from other people. This despite CGI being the norm now.

I can continue deconstructing Nerdstalgic’s video, which I thought was ignorant. But it’d be futile. I understand that CGI feels overused to many, and I get it. I also get that there are plenty of instances of badly-incorporated CGI. But that doesn’t mean it’s all bad, or that practical effects are inherently better. Sure, we should strive for a healthy balance, but that’s the key: a balance. One isn’t inherently better than the other.

One last point is that good CGI’s usually invisible. Did you know Armie Hammer’s face and body were duplicated to play the Winklevoss brothers in The Social Network? Or that the airport fight in Captain America: Civil War was staged? Of course not, and that’s intentional. These sorts of effects are designed to go unnoticed, and that’s good. It means we’ve come a long way from the 60s and 70s. Isn’t that what we want?

So yeah, Nerdstalgic was being unfair in his critiques. Which’d be a problem itself…assuming it was an isolated incident. Bashing CGI’s a time-honoured tradition going back many years, with people who claim to be “experts” making ignoramuses of themselves. Remember, CGI’s a tool. And like all tools, the key is knowing how to use it. When even the worst CGI today looks passable, I think we’re in good hands. I wish people like Nerdstalgic understood that, instead of complaining.

Original Trilogy Woes

My biggest regret as a Star Wars fan is being unable to watch The Original Trilogy in theatres. That wasn’t intentional, being born in 1990. But even once I was old enough, VHS tapes were being phased out and the movies were undergoing altered rereleases to match The Prequels. I also wasn’t a big fan until high school, and by then the original, unaltered films were unobtainable. Between the extensive edits and new scenes, the only way to access the films properly was either George Lucas’s hack-jobs, or piracy. And since the latter didn’t yield results, and wasn’t safe for my laptop, it wasn’t worth it.

This was my predicament for years, going into my early-20s. It’s not like the films weren’t “available”, but it wasn’t the same. I didn’t want CGI Jabba the Hutt conversing with Han Solo, or The Emperor played by Ian McDiarmid before his introduction in the final movie, because that wasn’t what was intended. It was revisionism, and it sucked that George Lucas was too stubborn to leave anything alone. For the most part, my exposure was through video games, most-notably the LEGO Star Wars series. At least those weren’t subjected to Lucas’s meddling.

It was doubly-frustrating because I knew all the famous lines and moments these movies had. I knew Darth Vader was Luke’s father, and I could recite their entire exchange in Cloud City. I knew Binary Sunset like it was my own, and I found myself humming the score in awkward places. Even the expanded franchise lore was fascinating, such that I could tell you what each lightsaber colour represented. So why were the original films elusive?

I guess that’s the ultimate consequence of being a Star Wars fan. I knew everything I possibly could about these films, but never firsthand. I had to frequently rely on YouTube clips, listen to people (mis)quote lines and consume references in other media. I was allowed to be in the fandom, but I wasn’t granted access to the material. I felt like Anakin Skywalker, enraged over how unfair it was, yet helpless to do anything.

My first piece of “hope” came when Lucas sold Star Wars to Disney in 2012. We can argue over how efficiently Disney’s handled the license, even if I’ve enjoyed its output, or if axing The EU was a good idea, but this was a blessing in my eyes. Finally, after over 22 years, I’d get to watch these movies how they were meant to be seen! No more hack-edits and additions people despised, this was it! I’d have access to these movies the way they were meant to be watched…right?

Leave it to reality to crush that. Not only was this not happening, but I was told it was never happening. Instead of the opportunity to watch these movies theatrically and unaltered, much like the 20th anniversary of Jurassic Park, Lucasfilm was doing new movies. The dream of seeing the true versions were dashed, with me being locked out again. I was disheartened.

But I waited…until Disney+ was announced in 2019. I was hopeful, yet again, that I could have easy access to these movies at any time. My dream was coming true, and it was exciting. Unfortunately, reality had other plans once again. By the time the Star Wars library had come to Disney+, the original films were altered further. This was most apparent with the added line “Maclunkey”, shouted by Greedo before being shot by Han Solo, a sign of Lucas’s ever-prescient trolling. Did the universe hate me that much?

Complicating matters further was whether or not Disney would get their hands on the unaltered versions. They kept hinting it, then denying it, then hinting it again, and always to my annoyance. They were dangling the carrot like I was a horse, only to yank it away immediately. It didn’t help that Disney is notorious for going after copyright breachers, making attempts like the Petr Harmy restoration project nigh-impossible to share. I was becoming impatient, with my annoyance turning into despair.

Which brings me to the announcement that the original film will be released theatrically for its 50th anniversary. Unless it’s the unaltered version, I have no interest in it. Besides, I’ll be 37 in 2027, and it’s possible my life commitments will be different. Like waiting for Toonami in Canada, by the time I get what I want, I might lose interest. And while it'd be perfect for Lucas and company to finally cave, why tease me?

It's not like the films aren’t worthy of criticism. They are. From what I’ve seen online, they’re really campy. The writing’s bonkers, the acting’s silly and the stories are filled with gaps and plot-holes. And there are tons of continuity errors, suggesting that the only glue binding them together was a vision, not a plan.

But that’s Star Wars, the science-fantasy version of a D&D campaign. Like how that game favours improvisation over logic and continuity, so too does Star Wars. And you know something? I don’t mind. Because that’s half the fun.

Besides, I want to judge the movies for myself and compare notes. I want to laugh at the chimpanzee-like face of Emperor Palpatine, or groan at Darth Vader’s insultingly-easy defeat of him. I want to enjoy the improvisational goofs, as that’s also part of the fun. It’s easy to joke about Star Wars being silly, but it revitalized the pulp serial sub-genre. And when that leads to classics like Castle in the Sky, then isn’t that what matters?

My problem is that George Lucas doesn’t agree. Instead of appreciating what is, he wants what should be. Like an overprotective father, he won’t let go of his creation, tinkering with it and retroactively acting like that was always the plan. Except it’s not. And it’s insulting to those who worked on these movies.

Ultimately, I’m tired. I’m tired of the games, the lies, and the false promises. Mostly, I’m tired of waiting. Star Wars might be goofy and bombastic, but it’s still art. And unless that art’s respected, I’ll continue being frustrated as an adult.

Reminiscing About Mario

I’ve made no secret about my disdain for video games that make me feel like I’m doing homework. Life is frustrating as is, and I don’t need escapism to be an extension of that. However, sometimes I can persevere if the game makes good use of a mechanic I normally can’t stand, like Pikmin 3. Other times, the issue isn’t about the game, but the console or handheld. Because there’ve been instances where something was ruined by design limitations.

Take Super Mario Bros. 3. I love that game, especially its GBA port, despite it being one of the hardest Mario titles I’ve played. However, despite being my preferred entry, thanks to gameplay tweaks, the two times I’ve beaten it via my DS Lite were scarring because I broke the handheld’s left shoulder button. Perhaps it’s that my palms would sweat from nerves, or that I’d beaten the game both times in the heat of Summer, but no longer being able to use the L-trigger was a bummer. So when I decided to replay it on The Nintendo Switch Online, I was worried this’d happen again.

This was my fear going in. Fortunately, it was immediately eclipsed by me remembering how fun the game is. Because it is, made more enjoyable by the GBA port having autosave. Instead of being thrown back to the beginning of a map after a Game Over, I could now start from the last level I’d beaten. I could also Quick Save my progress, meaning I wouldn’t have to start from scratch whenever I booted my console. It’s details like that that made me appreciate this game more.

That said, I was reminded of another truth: the game’s hard. You’d think having already beaten it twice would be an asset, but it was really challenging. Compounding that was how I’m notoriously bad at video games, making the same mistakes over and over. Perhaps God made me a good writer as a trade-off for being a terrible gamer, but I wish I could be both. It’s not like I wouldn’t benefit from that!

Nevertheless, like GoldenEye 007, the challenge isn’t unbearable. Some parts can be gruelling, but it’s nothing you can’t learn from. Your mistakes are easy fixes with another attempt, assuming you’ve realized what you did wrong. In this way, Super Mario Bros. 3 is the perfect trial-and-error experience, and none of the in-game deaths are unfair. I groaned and whined a lot, though…

It helps that the levels are short. Many modern games drag out their levels, Nintendo titles included, but Super Mario Bros. 3 doesn’t. Perhaps it’s because of the NES’s size limitation, but most levels can be completed in 1 or 2 minutes. In some instances, like in the speed-running community, the game can be completed in less than an hour. But that’s because they know it like the back of their heads. So maybe that’s a bad example.

Either way, I struggled quite a bit. In one instance, the World 8 castle, I had to look up how to get to the boss. It pained me discovering that I was overthinking the solution, but it was a testament to how little external help I needed. Considering I look up solutions frequently, especially with older games, that’s impressive. It’s a testament to how straightforward Super Mario Bros. 3 is.

It helps that the game’s bosses follow a similar formula: jump on their head three times. The exception is Bowser, who has a different method I call “surviving long enough”. Basically, avoid his attacks and have him fall to his doom, which sounds easy…until you remember that his attack time is quick. Unless you’re 100% on the ball at all times, you’ll lose. It happened a few times to me, despite his attack patterns being predictable.

With Bowser beaten, I got to rescue Princess Peach. I miss the NES’s final joke she makes, and I wish the end credits tune had been ported to the GBA version, but the rescue feels earned. This is also one of the few games I’ve 100% completed, which is a testament to its quality. Considering there are in-game items that allow you to skip levels, that I didn’t use them is also telling. Props to Nintendo here.

There’s more I can talk about with Super Mario Bros. 3. I could mention how each world’s a map that makes you feel like you’re playing a board game. I could discuss how each level’s a stage play, with ending curtains and a panel to complete it. I could even talk about how the experience is dreamlike, infusing fantasy with pirate ships and otherworldly elements. And let’s not forget how it used the Zelda franchise’s title screen music before the Zelda franchise, which is a cute nod in hindsight.

But that doesn’t really do justice to the experience. It’s so well-crafted that, after over 37 years, Super Mario Bros. 3 still stands the test of time in ways many NES titles don’t. Innovation doesn’t always age well in the world of gaming, but this is an exception. Kudos to Nintendo for this game, one that finally didn’t break my controller! How’s that for a happy ending?

Jahns VS Stuckmann

I took time out of Super Mario Bros. 3 on NSO’s GBA library to discuss this. I didn’t want to, as I’m on World 8, but this was more pressing. It’s especially pressing because it’s also frustrating. So let’s talk about Chris Stuckmann’s Shelby Oaks, particularly Jeremy Jahns’s review. Here goes.

I haven’t seen Shelby Oaks. I haven’t had time yet, and it’s a new release. However, Stuckmann sharing personal updates about directing and writing the movie for years was really insightful as a subscriber of his. He’s a scrappy nobody finally living out his dream, and I’m happy for him. So while the mixed reception has been a little dispiriting, I wish nothing but success and growth for Stuckmann.

However, I did watch Jahn’s review. I’ve harped on Jahns over some of his past videos, but he did a decent job explaining the pros and cons. He didn’t sugarcoat his thoughts, and he was fair to the movie’s strengths. It’d be easy to overpraise or trash Stuckmann as a first-time director, so the even-handedness was appreciated. Especially since his biggest complaint was that Stuckmann needed a professional screenwriter, as opposed to writing solo.

I’d end here, but I had the misfortune of reading some of the video’s comments. I shouldn’t have done that, since Jahns’s fans are notoriously toxic, yet while most were normal, there was a recurring theme of people overpraising Jahns for his honestly, while simultaneously chastising Stuckmann for no longer criticizing films. The sentiment was that Stuckmann’s refusal to be critical robs him of sincerity. And while Stuckmann’s decision was personal, and I respect it, overpraising Jahns does him a disservice. Because Jahns isn’t impartial either.

Yes, you read that correctly. No, I don’t feel any shame. Jeremy Jahns, for all his strengths, isn’t without his pitfalls. For one, he routinely zeroes in on weird elements in his reviews. (He loves calling female performers “hot”, for instance.) And two, he can be really “bro-y”, making videos that are male-gaze heavy. Even his ratings are bro-y, with frequent mentions of alcohol and getting drunk.

So that I’m not accused of being unfair, these aren’t necessarily flaws. He can be annoying sometimes, especially when he trashed The Acolyte while drunk, but it’s an observation. Nevertheless, calling Jahns “impartial” and Stuckmann “dishonest” is a Pandora’s Box that I’m not sure people really appreciate. Especially since full-impartiality doesn’t exist. It can’t.

It also does a disservice to why Stuckmann no longer trashes entertainment. Aside from feeling like lazy analysis, he doesn’t like doing it anymore. People work hard on even awful movies too, and trashing something because it’s not good feels like reaching for sour grapes. As someone who’s witnessed a rise in negative content, I feel that. Because while it might net eyeballs, it can be detrimental when not done tastefully.

I’ve seen it in my own work. I’m in the middle of editing a book manuscript that I wrote, and hearing my own limitations, even via helpful feedback, is disheartening. It’s hard writing books, especially when you’ve never done it, and knowing that you have work to do is scary and humbling. But mostly scary. Especially since I’m attached to my work, with it feeling like my children.

Even with my general blogging, it might be “journalistic” in style, but I frequently see my shortcomings. Not only do I improvise my thoughts, saving coherency for the editing process, but I often look at my sentences in hindsight and wonder if I expressed something clearly. At times I even spot typos months later, and I have to restrain my urge to “fix” them and ruin the flow. Basically, I acknowledge my limitations, and trashing someone unfairly makes me feel like garbage.

It’s easy to chastise Chris Stuckmann for not criticizing movies, but it’s so much harder to put yourself in his shoes. He respects the gruelling task of crafting something from scratch, and it makes him feel bad to not reciprocate. The world already has enough negativity without him adding to it, and I empathize. I’m not working in the same medium, but I get it.

Perhaps this is all best summed up via controversial YouTube critic Bob Chipman. I’ve defended and criticized Chipman in the past, but his video on Stuckmann’s refusal to criticize Madame Web drives home how people love tearing apart art without understanding it. It’s like how Aton Ego in Ratatouille highlights critics overlooking “useless junk” when discussing art. Especially since the “defence of the new” can be risky, which is where Stuckmann is right now with horror directing. If Ego, and by extension Chipman, understands this, then so can everyone else.

So yes, overpraising Jeremy Jahns and over-criticizing Chris Stuckmann in relation to Shelby Oaks is uncalled for. Does this mean I don’t respect Jahns’s honesty? No, since helpful feedback’s necessary for Stuckmann’s sophomore effort. But if Stuckmann won’t trash movies anymore because he’d feel hypocritical, then that’s his prerogative. It might be “disappointing”, but it doesn’t diminish his critical thinking. It simply means he’s matured enough to not want to pile on filmmakers, and I respect that. I think you should too.

A Fragile Peace

I was debating when to write this, given my thoughts were too fresh. Truthfully, I was hoping for a different outcome with the war and the hostages. I haven’t slept properly for nearly two decades, but the first three weeks post-October 7th were especially bad. It was only the revelation that I wasn’t alone that helped put me at ease. But now that a ceasefire deal is in effect, I figured I’d share some feelings on The Israel-Gaza War. Because it sucked.

Let me start with the global responses. I won’t harp on the global recognition of Palestine, as I’ve wanted that myself, even though I understand the betrayal many Jews feel, some family members of hostages, over it. I’m more concerned over how gentiles had made this a political football match, declaring open season on Jews and Muslims without appreciating the real lives at stake. What’s worse was the justification used for attacking Jews, with “Zionist” being a codeword for them. The living nightmare of these last two years is something I’ll feel for a while.

The gentile world has lost my trust. After October 7th, I made a declaration, one I’ve reiterated, that Hamas and their supporters gave some really awful people a gold platter to exploit Jewish concerns. We’ve seen this with Project Esther, an initiative to silence criticism of the war even from liberal-leaning Jews. It makes me wonder if progressive “allies” have shame, as they’ve been routinely gaslighting Jewish concerns even within their own circles. It’s not helpful, and it’s disgusting that these same allies only got involved because it meant shaming Jews.

It's also telling that these allies are largely silent in the face of Hamas’s current slaughtering of their own citizens. Wasn’t the point to stand up for Palestinians in Gaza? Why are you now ignoring plans to repeat an October 7th-like event? Is it because Jews aren’t involved? I wish I could be shocked, but I’m not.

Speaking of, the reaction to the hostage situation, as well as October 7th, was appalling. There’ve been attempts at downplaying the pain of Israelis, even claiming that The Nova Festival Massacre was a “psy-op” by The Mossad. True, Netanyahu’s failures to stop it from happening will hurt him in next year’s election, but really? There’s no way a country that disunited before October 7th, 2023 could’ve orchestrated something this grand. It gives Netanyahu, who was trying to “reform” the judiciary, and his coalition too much credit.

This isn’t to let him off-the-hook. Netanyahu bribing Hamas for years was inevitably going to backfire, and dragging out the war to avoid accountability cost Israeli hostages and reservists their lives. The country’s facing a mental health crisis because of that, and I hope that also backfires on him. Even ignoring the Charedi draft issue, he's failed Israelis big time. And he’ll have plenty to answer for when the time comes in the country alone.

I could go on forever about how the world has made my existence a nightmare these last two years, but I’ve already written about that. Instead, I’d like to mention that the current “peace” is fragile. Most of the hostages are back in Israel, but there are still several dead ones that Hamas hasn’t returned. It doesn’t help that they’re massacring their own, either. I know Hamas has fans, but they need to be held accountable if there’s to be lasting peace. Palestinians in Gaza deserve that much.

I do have to give credit to the global Jewish community, however. Jews have often compared themselves to eggs, as they’re tougher under pressure, and I’ve seen that firsthand. There have been Jews who’ve found themselves and become more entrenched in their roots. In Israel, completely secular Israelis have adopted Jewish traditions. Families have reunited after years of not speaking. And the anti-Netanyahu protests have grown. Tragic as it is, this war has brought us closer.

However, it’s come at a hefty price. There’s a PTSD crisis in Israel, one that’ll be hard to resolve. People are broken, and I doubt the country can handle this. On the Palestinian side, an entire generation is also broken beyond repair, with many families missing multiple members. It’s easy to claim one side or the other has “won”, but no one truly wins in a war. All parties are losers. I wish that was understood.

Above all, we need to reconcile how this war has shown how much work we have. Yes, Israel’s on better relations with Syria now. Yes, Palestine’s now a recognized country by much of the world. But those are baby steps. They’re not the long-term picture, and it’ll take re-examining our biases for lasting change. That needs constant work from both sides.

I’m tired. I’ve had many unpleasant discussions with Jews and gentiles, and it’s been draining. I’ll probably have more discussions, and they’ll get heated. But I’m hoping this ceasefire deal eases the burden of Antisemitism, making it safer for Jews. The deal’s late, and I have no doubts Trump sabotaged peace efforts under Biden to inflate his ego, but I want to move on. Isn’t that worth something?

Mother Knows Best?

Criticizing Disney villains is a tightrope. On one hand, they’re the most entertaining parts of their respective films. On the other hand, they’re not immune to criticism, hence why Disney phased them out. This is especially true with Disney remaking their classic pantheon in live-action, resulting in lifeless slop. And then there’s Tangled, which has been in production limbo for several months, but has finally resumed development. I’ve covered my thoughts on the 2010 movie before, but it’s fascinating, and frustrating, that any discussion surrounding its antagonist ends with debate.

I’m not writing this to demean Disney movies or start unnecessary arguments. Both will happen anyway, but I like these villains. That said, while people pile on authors like JK Rowling for leaning in on overt stereotypes, the subtler ones remain unchallenged. And in some cases, like Mother Gothel, they’re defended by fans. We good? Moving on.

I should also mention that Mother Gothel being Antisemitic-coded, like other Disney villains, doesn’t mean she’s only that. Disney pulls from many sources, including drag. But that doesn’t mean the argument can’t be made. And in a time when Jews are being attacked (again) for being Jewish, it’s especially important to listen to us. Especially on topics not so obvious.

Let’s begin by rehashing how Gothel could be seen as Antisemitic: a crooked nose. Droopy, almost tired, eyes. Dark, curly hair that’s unkempt and slicked back. Less-refined complexion features, like pale skin. A desire to feed off of a younger, more innocent and European-looking woman. And a nagging, possessive relationship with the heroine.

I’m not the first to call this out, nor will I be the last. Gothel’s features, dating back to the original fairytale, are baked in Antisemitic tropes, as Jews were the dominant minority in Europe for centuries. They were thought of as deceivers out to distort European Christendom, and even after secularization this persisted. It’s also no surprise that Walt Disney, who didn’t think so fondly of any minority, would resort to these stereotypes even while championing innovation. Essentially, it’s hard to tell if Gothel’s deliberately Antisemitic, or simply based on Antisemitic choices from ages past.

I’ve never been the biggest fan of Gothel. She’s fun, and she has one of Tangled’s best songs/reprisals, but outside of creating a personal obstacle for Rapunzel she’s uninteresting. She lacks the showiness of Disney Renaissance antagonists, the pure evil of classic ones and even the connive that made Dr. Facilier work in The Princess and the Frog. For the most part, she’s a non-entity. It’s no surprise that Disney would move away from villains like her afterward.

Which brings me to the live-action remake of Tangled. When it was initially announced, I didn’t have high hopes. I’d only enjoyed three of the live-action remakes, and each of them either improved on or changed the material they were working with. The rest were so overly-faithful, yet simultaneously unfaithful, to their source material that they didn’t hook me with their trailers. (I don’t need a repeat of something I love, except less-inspired.) Tangled felt like more of the same.

For a while, this remake of a 15 year-old movie was on hold, thanks to the diminishing returns of recent remakes. But then came the success of Lilo & Stitch, showing that Disney’s live-action remakes could still be profitable. And now Tangled’s remake has a possible actress for Mother Gothel: Scarlett Johansson, a Jewish woman who’s been under fire for a variety of reasons in recent years. Oh dear.

I have no problem with Johansson as Gothel in theory. Like Gal Gadot as The Evil Queen, she has an opportunity to reclaim the Antisemitic coding of Gothel. And unlike Godot, she’s a decent actress. But while I’m happy that she gets to embody the character, I also have my share of reservations. Like The Evil Queen, I don’t think she can escape the baggage associated with Gothel, especially if Disney decides to be “forward-thinking” and casts a minority actress as Rapunzel. If it happened with Rachel Zegler in Snow White, it can happen again!

Honestly, I don’t see why Tangled needs Mother Gothel. Going by what I said before, Gothel was never a threat outside of a few scenes. And since Disney has made a point of moving away from conventional villains, opting for twist-villains instead, I don’t see why they can’t actually update the entire story for modern audiences. It’s what they did with Frozen, so why not here? Or is cashing in on nostalgia too important?

I actually wouldn’t mind, assuming they use Gothel, another twist-villain. I know people are sick of them, but it humanizes them in ways that “I AM EVIL, WATCH ME SCHEME!” can’t. While the latter can be fun, it’s also lazy. It limits what the baddie’s capable of, and it doesn’t give them much depth. That might be “the point”, but even when Hayao Miyazaki uses this trope, which isn’t often, he gives his villains human motivations. He’s also careful not to rely on stereotypical coding, instead letting their actions do the heavy lifting.

To be clear, I’m not saying you can’t enjoy Mother Gothel. For all my issues with her, she’s fun to watch! And it’s satisfying seeing her meet her end! But while I enjoy the evilness of Gothel, I also think Disney can do better. I especially think they can do better than using a Jewish actress for a Jewish-coded antagonist. You can disagree, but that’s my take.

Then again, I strongly doubt the remake will be good, so...