Our
premise this week is that Ultron, the robot baddie from Avengers 2, beats all
the Avengers and wipes out all life on Earth in a rain of nuclear fire, then
bisects Thanos like a little bitch when the big purple grape shows up to claim
the Mind stone. He goes on to annihilate all life in the universe—not by
Thanos’s pussy-ass method of snapping his fingers, but by the tried-and-true
method of blowing shit up. That done, he sets his sights yet higher, and
decides to fight the narrator of the series, the Watcher, so that he can kill
every living thing in every reality. Ever.
Ultra-Ultron
and the Watcher fight. As you would expect with beings of such unimaginable,
incomprehensible power that it makes mere gods puny by comparison, so awesome
that merely attempting to conceptualize the vastness of their existence would shatter the mind of
any mortal, they do this by punching each other. We end on a cliffhanger as the
Watcher turns to the only other person with experience in the galaxy-destroying
business, Dr. Especially Strange from episode 4. Cue cliffhanger. To be
continued, etc.
There’s
also a subplot involving Black Widow and Hawkeye (neither of whom have
superpowers, may I remind you) trying to evade a being that is powerful enough
to detect the existence of alternate realities and beat up the narrator. They
then decide to try the plot from the first “Independence Day” despite neither
of them being Will Smith, or even Chadwick Boseman.
Q:
They’re doing the Avengers thing of having everybody do one on their own, then
coming together for the finale, aren’t they?
A:
Yup.
Q:
The Watcher keeps saying he can’t intervene because he swore an oath. So … who
did he swear an oath TO? Like, doesn’t that imply there’s someone or something
even bigger than him that can enforce obedience?
A:
Good question, imaginary interlocutor. You’re so smart not to mention handsome.
And not at all rambly, disjointed, forgetful or almost 50.
Q:
Isn’t the animation a little uneven?
A:
Yeah, beautifully detailed in some frames, then there’s an explosion or people
running, and all their limbs turn to rubber.
Bo Burnham: Inside Everything by: Bo Burnham Network: Netflix
Let me begin by saying I went into this
completely blind. I know nothing about Bo Burnham. I did not read up about Bo
lore on Bokipedia. I did not watch 90-minute YouTube explainer videos on what
everybody gets wrong about Bo. I am entirely unversed in the Bo Cinematic
Universe. I mentioned that I had watched this to someone on Discord and they
immediately accused me of being a TikTok girl and have no idea what that is, or
what connection it has to any Netflix comedy special, be it wholly Boed or
unBoed or any intermediate degree of Boification in between. Never heard of the
kid.
I like him. I mean, his youth and talent
and success irritate the piss out of me, but I like him.
Should I even explain what Bo Burnham:
Inside is? Nah. Not much point. Bo makes a joke during this one-man
audience-less show about the possibility that he’s just talking to himself, so
let me quickly reassure you Bo, in many ways the total lack of audience is a
relief. You can skip all the boring explanation bits of the review, for
example, and just skip straight to trash-talking it. Go ahead. Do it. Not like
anybody is going to fucking care.
There’s something fitting about talking
to myself online about a musical-black comedy special consisting mainly of a
man talking to himself online about being online all the time. Anyway, from
what I can tell Bo is a comedy songwriter in the Al Franken, Weird Al or Eric
Idle vein and I have just revealed the incredible paucity of my knowledge and unfamiliarity
with this field. Funny songs, in other words, written, performed and shot by Bo
in his home during the pandemic.
At some point online humor seems to have
shifted from ‘silliness’ to ‘relatability’ and most of the jokes in this
special aren’t jokes but things that exist in Bo’s life. Facetiming his mom,
sexting, Jeff Bezos.
People don’t seem to tell jokes that
much anymore, everybody agrees satire is dead now that people openly say and do
the most moronic things imaginable, nobody understands sarcasm, and so what’s
left is things that make people clap because they are able to identify them.
Like a performer saying “San Francisco!” to their audience and receiving
rapturous applause. Yes, that is a place, a place I am from! Woo! Yay! What I
get out of Bo is a whole lot of relatability that I don’t much relate to,
interspersed with some genuine comedy.
I think it’s unrelatable because the
experience of a successful 30-year-old single entertainer living in the United
States of Deliberately Fucking Up Their Covid Response at Every Imaginable Stage
in Every Imaginable Way of America has been pretty different from a failed 47-year-old
married-with-kids writer in Japan. Turning 30 is a distant, half-forgotten
image in my rearview mirror. Aside from a three-week period in April 2020, I
have been going to the office every day. We have been going shopping, eating in
restaurants, getting haircuts, seeing our friends about as much as we did
before, i.e. never. Like I have friends. Covid has changed many things, but the
degree to which I am or am not online has not been one of them. So songs and
jokes about how awful it is to be isolated and online all of the time, however
well crafted and expertly shot, tend not to land for me. I wonder if they land
for most people outside of a small clutch of social media addicts.
One of the non-song actual stand-up bits
involves Bo wondering aloud if it is possible, in this day and age, times being
what they are, and so on, is it at all possible for everyone to just shut the
fuck up about anything. But you know what? I think most people do shut
the fuck up. I think the vast majority of humanity shuts the fuck up on a
pretty consistent basis. Maybe if you have a somewhat larger online presence
than a Twitter account with three followers and a blog with even fewer than
that, then online discussions might feel a bit more heated, but for most of us
I suspect the Internet is about as participatory as a rock concert or one of
America’s larger wars—in a very abstract way it couldn’t exist without us but
nobody is seriously asking us what we think of it. Replying to famous Twitter
accounts is like talking back to the TV. Anyway, it’s not like nobody had
opinions prior to 2006.
The bit ends with Bo rhetorically asking
himself why he doesn’t shut up, then quickly cuts away.
There is, of course, something ironic
about a man with a self-written and directed comedy special in which he is the
sole performer and often the sole subject complaining about people talking
about themselves online. He is the very problem he is describing, a living
example of the man who jams a stick in his own bicycle wheel and complains when
he falls off. He does exhibit awareness of this, but he himself admits that
self-awareness doesn’t absolve anybody of anything. So. There.
I did laugh though, at least in the
first half. The facetiming and sexting songs are chuckle worthy, the dark humor
of songs about how useless it is to worry about the world ending hits pretty
hard, and much of the camera work and setup has an almost childlike and gleeful
sense of inventiveness. There’s a brilliant bit about brands attempting to
exhibit a social conscience, “The question is not whether you will buy Wheat
Thins, but whether you will stand with Wheat Thins in the fight against Lyme
Disease.” Spoofs of recursive reaction videos to reaction videos to reaction
videos and twitch streamers trying to play the life of a depressed 30-year-old
shut-in are also kind of funny. The song “White Woman’s Instagram” manages to
be more than just relatable, by subtly lampooning the cheapening of real
feeling and empathy by giving equal emotional weight to inspirational Lord of
the Rings quotes misattributed to Martin Luther King, silly photos of dogs and
heartfelt open letters to one’s dead mother.
The second half I liked a lot less, as
it is mostly Bo chronicling his declining mental state in his isolated,
always-online existence.
For one thing, I don’t buy it. There is
something awfully contrived about filming yourself having a mental breakdown
while staying in shot, in focus, and zooming artistically away at the
appropriate moment.
I don’t buy it.
Maybe it’s Gen X suspicion of any public
display of emotion, but I don’t buy it. I don’t believe Bo’s house is that
messy, I don’t believe he set up a camera to catch himself waking up, I don’t
believe he really cried on camera. I realize as I type this that the
performative nature of public grief is part of Bo’s whole beef with the
Internet, so this too is probably deliberate, but still off-putting and kind of
alienating.
I don’t buy it.
For another, the whole pandemic has been
far easier to cope with if one is not one of these quantum Schrödinger humans
who disappears if they are ever unobserved. Bo’s theatrical moping about his
expensive Los Angeles house is just barely more tolerable than Gal Gadot
singing to us from her mansion and one suspects comes from the same root, the
same need to be the center of attention at all times. I feel slightly greater
sympathy to those suffering to the pandemic without the padding provided by
being a YouTube celebrity with a number of comedy specials.
But you know. It was sporadically funny,
sometimes gut-bustingly so, visually interesting, something a little different.
It was fun. I enjoyed it. I just don’t think I’ll ever want to watch it ever
again.
P.S. Listening to the songs from the
special on Spotify is a whole other experience. Stripped of the burden of
sitting through 45 minutes of material and allowed to command your full
attention, I really appreciate that these aren’t just silly little quips, but
actually pretty good tunes in their own right. They are bops, my friends, they
are each a mood, whole and entire.
I
kind of liked the idea of bringing the circle of inspiration around full
circle. The fact that George Lucas was originally inspired by not only 50s
serials like “Flash Gordon”, but also by Akira Kurosawa’s samurai flicks, such
as “Hidden Fortress” or “Yojimbo”, is one of the better-known back stories
behind the OG trilogy.
So bring it home. Let’s see what animators in the land
the inspired the Jedi and lightsabers make of their hybrid cousin.
The
answer is, well … Jedi and lightsabers, mostly.
In
nine episodes produced by seven different Japanese animation studios we get two
jedis fighting, a jedi rock band, two jedis fighting, a jedi fighting, nine
jedis fighting, a robot jedi fighting, three jedis fighting, a furry jedi
fighting and two jedis fighting.
In
other words, the country that gave Star Wars its quasi-space samurai turns out
to mostly be interested in quasi-space samurai. The characters, the settings, the costumes--the series doesn't look inspired by medieval Japan, it just looks like medieval Japan. Period. With jedis. Which is kind of a shame, I
guess. Like a tourist who travels to Europe and eats nothing but McDonald’s, I
can’t help but feel this is a missed opportunity, and wish that the animators
had looked at Star Wars and seen something other than their own reflection.
Wellll-l-l-l,
the visual look was always going to be the thing and the whole thing with this
series anyway, wasn’t it? Like the “Animatrix” series (2003, or about five
years ago by my reckoning) or “Halo Legends” (2010, i.e. that was just last week, surely?) the main
if not only reason you do this is to splash a technicolor coat of Japanese cool
over your product.
A
couple of the episodes are indeed pretty to look at, especially the first one, “The Duel”,
which has a very cool “Hellsreach” style jumpy, skittery black-and-white look
to it, with splashes of red and blue color when the laser swords get whipped
out.
“The
Twins” gets a bit more gonzo, but looses several thousand points in my book for
just copying the most iconic scene from “The Last Jedi”. Did I say the
animators took nothing from Star Wars? My mistake. They took this one scene,
and xeroxed it.
“Tatooine
Rhapsody” and “T0-B1” are cutesy Astroboy style cheese harkening back to 80s
animation; “The Elder” is basically “The Duel” again, only the bad guy is an
old man instead of a woman; “The Village Bride” and “The Ninth Jedi” are a bit
Ghibli with their wilderness scenes and plucky heroines, and “Akakiri” (red
mist) is very Kurosawa with its bold use of color and bickering old guides.
There’s some stunt casting in the voices, with Lucy
Liu, George Takei, David Harbour, Neil Patrick Harris and Temuera “Boba Fett”
Morrison all taking a turn behind the mike, though as with much of anime its
hampered both by trying to info dump at the speed of Japanese speech and by a
listless give-me-my-paycheck delivery of hammy dialog. Voice acting is not
in-person acting, and I can’t help but feel the production would have been
better served by focusing on performances over names.
I do like the de-emphasis on canon though. It's a millstone that is only going to weigh down any future attempts to tell any other stories in this universe, so the sooner it is cast off the better. Just wish they'd been willing to go a little more lateral, but baby steps I guess.
Episode
7: “What if we wanted to be free to do what we want to do, and we wanted to get
loaded and have a good time? And that’s what we did, we had a good time, we had
a party? Woo yeah?”
The
premise here is that a spoiled and feckless Prince Thor of Asgard decides not
to fight evil, but rather boredom and the squares, by slipping off while his
parents are away (his dad for rejuve treatments, his mom to get wine drunk with
other moms) and throwing a cataclysmically large party on Earth.
Oh
dear, you say to yourself, it doesn’t sound like they can fit much punching
into that kind of storyline BECAUSE YOU ARE A NAÏVE FOOL WHO KNOWS NOTHING.
Thor and co. and I do mean co. as in pretty much every side character from the
Thor and Guardians movies gets a cameo anyway they throw a party of such
massive proportions that it threatens to destroy the entire planet. Fire giant
king and herald of the end of the world, Surtur, rips the Statue of Liberty’s
arms off while trying to hit on her. Thor’s lightning accidentally knocks out
power to the entire eastern seaboard of the US. Loki develops a plan to use the
arch of St. Louis as a giant slingshot. That kind of thing.
It
is up to Captain Marvel to stop Thor in a battle of the blondes, by using all
of her cunning and crafty wiles or haha no not really, by punching Thor a lot.
It’s
mildly diverting though the whole thing is structured like an 80s sitcom
episode replete with putting the world back together before mom finds out.
It’s
funnier in the premise than the execution, but hell with it, these are comic
book characters and it’s oddly refreshing to see them portrayed as such. Sure,
it’s a filler episode in a filler series, designed to tide Disney+ audiences
over between “Loki” and the next big series, “Hawkeye” (well okay large-ish series, I mean
c’mon, it’s Hawkeye) so it’s not exactly essential viewing. But then the
whole MCU is about as essential as Twinkie filling anyway, so why not. I did
catch myself thinking at one point “ah, not like any of this series is canon
anyway” which is kind of a bass-ackwards way to approach entertainment. Of
course it’s lightweight, forgettably flimsy fun, what else was it supposed
to be? Why should it be anything else?
The
expectation that every story link into every other story is probably not a good
one for storytelling. This is just kind of its own thing for 30 silly minutes.
Good for it. I bitched and moaned about this series not taking its ideas
seriously, but if it won’t, then this is the way to go: Dispense with the faux-Shakespearean
tragedy about a wizard who gets sad or, um, zombies, and just have goofy, silly
characters doing goofy, silly things.
Episode
6: “What if we made one that was actually kind of good?”
For
all my snark about this series, I thought this week’s episode wasn’t too bad,
really. So this will be short, as I’m far better at snark than expressions of
genuine appreciation or emotion.
I
especially liked the theme (whether intended or not, I have my doubts) about the
dangers inherent in worshipping superheroes or following charismatic leaders.
This is Marvel we are talking about after all, so I’m not sure whether they
realized this week’s story beautifully illustrates why trusting in a superhero
to save you is such a short-sighted and stupid mentality. But own goals still count
as goals, so score one for Marvel!
This
one does a decent job of putting familiar characters into new situations
and—rather than having them just beat each other up—shows how they might react
to their new situation. The conceit is that Killmonger, Michael B Jordan’s
character from “Black Panther”, decides not to concoct a hideously complex and
byzantine plot to take over the highly advanced hermit kingdom of Wakanda by
challenging its king to ritual combat, but rather decides to concoct an even
more byzantine and frankly ludicrously complex plot to provoke a war between
America and Wakanda so that he can sweep in, save his homeland and rise to the
throne as a hero rather than a villain.
Step
one is to save Tony Stark from an ambush in Afghanistan (rewriting one of our
first-ever MCU scenes waaaay back in Iron Man 1). Killmonger is handsome, he’s
charming, he’s heroic, he has an amazing capacity for self-righteous violence, of
course everyone immediately loves him. Naturally he exploits this
hero-worship to get into Tony’s good graces and engineer an ambush that kills
both Chadwick Boseman’s Black Panther and Don Cheadle’s James Rhodes, before
murdering Tony and pinning the blame on Wakanda. This works like a charm and
the two countries are soon at one another’s throats.
If
they’d stopped there, I would have loved, LOVED this. I mean, it’s not quite an
“Invincible” or “The Boys” level deconstruction of why superheroes are actually
kind of a bad idea really and maybe we shouldn’t be quite so willing to stop
thinking for ourselves, but for Marvel this is pretty spicy stuff.
Then
they throw in a gratuitous battle scene where the Americans send in an anime
esque robot army. Killmonger deactivates them, then for reasons best known to
himself reactivates them and spends five minutes beating up robots with a
spear. The whole battle scene is just … weird. Unnecessary and just bizarrely
frames this as a heroic struggle rather than a pointless fight engineered by an
unscrupulous zealot (for his own aggrandizement I guess—though he was already
the hero of the hour before the fight so I’m not sure what he hoped to
accomplish).
Q:
So, nothing to be snarky about?
A: Well,
at one point, the Watcher (the narrator) says something along the lines of
“Heroes never die.”
Just
after Black Panther, Iron Man and War Machine um, er … die.
Q:
How many times is this series going to kill Tony Stark?
A: AS
MANY AS IT TAKES.
Hey,
at least the old dude from Ant-Man wasn’t the bad guy this time.
Q:
Chadwick Boseman is in this one, too?
A:
Yes and just to make it extra weird he voices his own ghost.
Q:
Did they leave the door open for a sequel again?
A:
They did indeed, featuring everyone’s two favorite Marvel characters, Pepper
Potts and Black Panther’s kid sister.
Title: Kate Directed by: Cedric Nicolas-Troyan Written by: Umair Aleem Network: Netflix
Kate,
an assassin with 24 hours to live (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), seeks revenge on
the people who poisoned her. This happens just after she announced to her boss
(Woody Harrelson, easily the best thing here but also just reprising his role
from the Han Solo movie beat for beat) that she was quitting the assassination
business. Gee. Wonder who could possibly be behind it all. What amazing plot
twist will be revealed two thirds of the way through. I really cannot guess.
Also I have severe brain damage and have never seen any revenge action movie
ever before in my life.
If
you’ve watched any of Netflix’s previous output—like “Old Guard”, “Extraction”,
“Project Power” or “Titan”—you kind of know what to expect: Determinedly
middle-brow fare with one big name Hollywood star and a script like something I
might write. Narratively, there really is nothing new or original here. Our
hero agrees to do one last job before quitting. The last job goes wrong! Oh
noes! Now she’s been poisoned with a grain of Polonium and is immediately given
24 hours to live (a bit like the real-life case of Alexander Litvinenko, only
it took three weeks for him to die). So a gender-swapped “Crank”, then. Kate
begins to work her bloody, bullet-strewn way up the ladder of crime bosses
until she reaches the top and gasp, twist, finds out her mentor was behind it
all along.
Oh,
and there’s an astonishingly foul-mouthed spoiled rich girl who gets dragged
along because tough hero plus kid worked so well in “Extraction”. Also, weird
little thing, but her name is Ani-chan, which is a strange name for a girl to
have as “ani” means “older brother” in Japanese. I thought maybe it was
a reference to the character’s gender fluidity or something, but no, nothing.
She’s just a girl whose name happens to mean big brother. Odd.
If
you can get past the predictability, then the visuals and action are
entertaining enough.
There’s
an almost amusing bit of “Die Hard” in the amount of shit the movie puts Kate
(Mary) through before allowing her to finally succumb to the sweet embrace of
death, including getting shot twice and stabbed in the face with a pair of
scissors, in addition to the whole radiation poisoning thing. And I can’t help
but suspect Mary was cast for her physical similarity to Sigourney
Weaver—indeed as the movie progresses her hairstyle and look gets more and more
Weaverish until I wondered if I was watching the wrong movie.*
*I was. Should’ve
watched “Aliens” instead.
The
camerawork during the fight scenes in particular is wonderfully wacky, flipping
the image upside down when Kate lands on her back or with overhead shots
spinning around as she throws the bad guys this way and that. There’s also a
kitchen fight with a tattooed member of BTS that is visceral and crunchy in all
the right ways.
Ultramodern
Japan is shown here in all its pink neon cat glory, though my favorite scene
was shot in a Lawson convenience store, just cos I got to shout at the screen
“Hey, it’s a Lawson, a thing which I know exists.” I give the movie points for
casting Japanese people in Japanese roles, instead of filling them with Chinese
or Korean actors the way most productions seem to do (Hello, Altered Carbon).
One or two scenes might overdo it, to the point I wasn’t sure if this was
supposed to be modern-day Japan or some kind of cyberpunk future.
I’m
not sure if the final scene was meant to be a damning commentary on the cheap,
fake plastic sentimentality of these kinds of movies, but man does it (accidentally?)
do it in style: Our hero gives up the ghost while bathed in the neon pink glow
of a bloated quasi-Hello Kitty character that appears to be shitting cherry
blossoms. Like, daaaaamn. “Your tears are as genuine as a second-rate, crassly commercial
copy of a children’s cartoon character.” Ouch.
That’s
the one shot in this movie that actually hits hard.
Q:
What if the Marvel superheroes turned into zombies?
A: Hm.
Okay, go on.
Q:
Um. That’s it. That’s the idea. Zombies.
A: Yes.
And?
Q:
Well … they’re zombies. So they fight.
A: Look,
superheroes fighting other superheroes is 90% of superhero movies. We already
had a whole “Civil War” that was all about that.
Q:
Yeah but they’re zombies now, so we can bisect them and cut their heads off and
make them explode from the inside out.
A: Pure
spectacle.
Q:
Not sure quite what you expected when we crossed the two most stereotyped movie
genres imaginable. Every superhero movie is more or less the same. Every zombie
movie, ditto. So we get superheroes doing stereotypically zombie movie things
in between punching each other.
A:And Peter Parker making a jaunty, jokey “How
to Survive the Zombie Apocalypse” video after watching his aunt, his friends
and his entire neighborhood die horrifically.
Q:
Paul Ruud appears as a Futurama style head in a jar and makes dad jokes.
A: All that achieves is to remind me of the better
shows and movies he is referencing, but whatever.
Q:
Did I mention one of the zombies explodes from the inside out?
A:
Yeah, then they had a sad scene where the surviving heroes comfort one another
about having the courage to go on living, which is a wonderful thing to have
Chadwick Boseman’s voice tell you, but again Marvel really seems at a loss as
to how to create a consistent tone. If it’s a jokey zombie slapstick, maybe
stick with that instead of trying to do tragedy every third scene.
Q:
Happy makes “pyew pyew” noises.
A:
He does indeed, right before he gets murdered and turned into a zombie.
See?
Q:
What if we ended on a cliffhanger?
A: I
don’t think that really works either. The fun of these things is to showcase
all kinds of crazy or offbeat versions of the existing franchise, not establish
some kind of ongoing storyline. I’m not really dying to know what happens next.
Once you’ve introduced the idea of zombie superheroes, that’s it.
Episode
3: “What if one superhero fought THEMSELVES?”
At
last, Marvel’s love of having their superheroes fight one another reaches its
logical endpoint in this week’s episode, where we give up entirely on trying to
come up with a viable antagonist and just have Benedict Cumberbatch beat
himself up.
Of
course, we can’t just have him start wailing on himself without preamble like
some kind of uncultured barbarians, so the first third of the episode is a
shot-for-shot reenactment of 2002’s “The Time Machine”, right down to our
desperate protag’s motivations for failing to change the timeline and oddly
hilarious and unlikely ways his beloved keeps eating shit.
Luckily,
Tilda Swinton shows up to give us some bullshit excuse for why there are now
two Stephen Stranges, and on to the magical punching we go.
This
one partially makes up for what it lacks (utterly, utterly lacks) in narrative
creativity with visual flair, with Evil Stevil growing more monstrous as he
absorbs the power of various magical creepy-crawlies and with the Stephen twins
beating one another up in a variety of novel ways while the entire world goes
antigravity black tar thanks to Stevil screwing with the timeline.
It
also has the courage to follow through on its apocalyptic promise and end
things on a downer note as the entire universe collapses around the surviving
Stephen.
Q:
What if we completely changed the central motivation driving your life, from
recovering the use of your hands to saving the life of a loved one?
A:
Nothing. You’d still end up in exactly the same place with exactly the same
people, only looking a little sadder. I mean no, that’s not entirely fair, the
episode is about how Strange would become obsessed with undoing the
past, but I think it is a little odd that his entire life up to and including
becoming a wizard would be exactly the same.
Q:
What are the implications of Absolute Points in the timeline for the future of
the MCU?
A: None.
If you haven’t guessed I despise the kind of Thermian discourse that grows up
around shows like these, in which people pretend these stories about people in
colorful costumes punching one another are somehow grounded in any kind of
consistent, objective reality. The possibility to write stories set in
alternative universes has always existed until Marvel suddenly pretended it
didn’t so they could triumphantly announce it did again. Time travel in Marvel
movies will obey whatever laws the writers feel makes a better story.
Q:
Did you catch all the Easter Eggs?
A: I
think I see why “The Ending Explained” and “Easter Eggs Explained” and other
videos in this vein are so popular: It’s the only kind of coherent analysis
possible when the material itself is essentially theme-free. There’s not much
going on other than the mechanics of the plot, the gears and pistons pushing
one character this way, another that way, so that we can have the requisite
people punching one another in the requisite combinations. Look! The Thanos
Copter! Ha ha, wasn’t that great.
Q:
If you could go back in time—
A: People
like to say “no ragrets” but not me, by golly not me, no sir. Changes. Oh boy,
I’d make changes. So, so many changes. Utterly selfish and personal changes.
Gotten better haircuts, to start with. Dear Lord. And not dating any of my
ex-girlfriends. Just a series of horrific multi-vehicle highway pileup level
disasters weren’t they. Sorry ladies. Chosen to study something a bit more
lucrative than journalism in university.
What?
Baby Hitler? Eh. I got my priorities, you got yours.
So
yeah, I do kind of get Stephen’s motivations in this episode.
Episode
3: “What if one superhero fought a different superhero?”
At
last, an episode that answers the timeless question Marvel fans have been
pondering for years—what if Marvel made a show about the Avengers?
Truly
groundbreaking stuff.
This
is one of those episodes that is all about superhero X getting into a fight with
superhero Y because, c'mon, Marvel has never been that great about creating
villains so having the heroes fight each other is about the only way to
generate any excitement or tension. Of course such fights always have to be
justified with a bit of narrative magic, so first we get The Pledge where it
seems like we’re getting a replay of the first Avengers movie, then The Turn,
in which all the Avengers suddenly start dropping dead in various unlikely
scenarios, then The Prestige, when it turns out to be some guy I don’t know
about because I never watched the Ant-Man movies.
All
of this is therefore leading up to the goofy fun of Loki beating up some old
man who is by turns extremely small and then extremely large.
There
are some jokes along the way about Chris Hemsworth having great hair and
smelling like lavender and sight gags like one superhero doing an impression of
the exploding ninja in “Big Trouble in Little China”, all of which kind of
undercuts any sense of seriousness or tension when superheroes start keeling
over faster than anti-vaxxers at a biker rally. Marvel is as quick as ever to
reassure you this is all just a bit of fun and not to take it too seriously.
Q:
What if one of the actresses asked for too much money to use her likeness?
A: Then
Black Widow would stand out as the only one that looks or sounds nothing like
her live action counterpart.
Q:
What if it was super-easy to kill all these superheroes?
A: That’s
the only thing that really stuck with me about this one to be honest. Like man,
Marvel villains must be incredibly incompetent. One old dude wiped the whole
team out in less than 30 minutes.
Q:
What if you did a comedy episode in which a bunch of people die?
A:
Huh. Then the way they die better be pretty amusing or darkly humorous, otherwise
the jokes are going to seem wildly out of place. Poisoned? Shot with an arrow?
Um, hate to tell you show, I ain’t laughing yet. Ironically the Hulk popping
like a giant grape was about the only funny one AND THAT WAS THE ONLY DAMN ONE
WHERE YOU HAD PEOPLE REACT WITH HORROR AND SADNESS.
Q:
What if two superheroes fight?
A:
Then you’d better have a damn good build-up to that fight or lots of fun
interaction between the characters, because as a plot that’s about as tired as
it gets. This one doesn’t do a half-bad job of it—the cracks about Chris’s
pretty-boy image aren’t bad even if tonally bizarre—and Tom Hiddleswagger is as
waggishly charming as ever. But it is, in the end, still just two guys
fighting, and “who would win” questions are the dullest possible ones to ask in
this genre.
Q:
Okay but what if Wolverine fought the Hulk?
A:
Did you even read … I can’t believe you … Wolverine, and it wouldn’t even be
close.
Q:
What if entertainment properties generally face a choice between Exploring
their concept and Exploiting their popularity, and the more the concept gets
tired and played out the more they lean on Exploiting it, such as by endlessly
rehashing old story lines with minor tweaks or bringing back Alfred Molina?
Episode
2: “What if Chadwick Boseman was awesome?”
Well,
any discussion of this episode is probably going to be overshadowed by the fact
that it was the last performance of beloved actor Chadwick Boseman, appearing
here as the beloved superhero T’Challa, prince of the beloved fictional kingdom of
Wakanda.
While
I remain deeply suspicious and cynical about the type of person who has the,
hm, immense self-belief it must take to become a famous actor, I won’t try to
deny the online outpouring of love that met the news of Mr. Boseman’s death.
Again, the Internet does love to go crazy over its Keanu Reeveses and Brendan
Frasers, its Bob Rosses and Steve Irwins, so I take the flood of messages with
a grain of salt, but I figure there’s still gotta be a grain in there
somewhere, and that’s no small thing.
It
does mean that T’Challa, the character, has been utterly overshadowed by
Chadwick Boseman, the actor, probably to the detriment of the character. T'Challa is
awesome because Chadwick Boseman is awesome. To be anything less would be an
insult to the dead, but honestly, that does not make for interesting writing or
a great character. T’Challa cannot fail or be afraid or get angry or make
mistakes or doubt himself, because he isn’t T’Challa he’s Chadwick Boseman.
That
said, this was a fun episode, at least at the start, as it kind of leans into
the meme of Chadwick Boseman’s awesomeness with a replay of the opening scene
of the first “Guardians of the Galaxy” movie between Star-Lord (now Chadwick
Boseman instead of Chris Pratt) and Djimon Hounsoun’s character: When Star-Lord
introduces himself, instead of asking "Who?" Djimon instantly
recognizes him and falls over himself fangirling over Chadwick. “Should we be bowing? I feel like we should be bowing.”
Similarly,
there’s a kind of cute scene where we learn Thanos the Mad Titan decided to
give up his plan to wipe out half of all sentient life in the universe after
talking to Chawick Boseman for five minutes. Ha ha. Chadwick Boseman is
awesome, am I right?
The
rest is just kind of filler, tbh. Once they’ve set up and made the joke about how
awesome Chadwick Boseman is, there isn’t much point to the rest of it except to
reiterate how awesome he is a couple more times.
As a
tribute, it’s nice. Touching. Just the right send off probably, as fitting a curtain-closer as one could hope for. Raul Julia's last film was "Street Fighter" and if I had to choose between going out as a martial artist who is awesome and a martial artist in a 90s video game, I pick the awesome. As entertainment, the episode is, well, it’s not really answering any
of the questions it appears to raise.
Q:
What is more important, your nature or the nature of your environment?
A:
Your nature.
Q:
Wow, you didn’t even hesitate. Which is odd because this is an ongoing and
complex debate within a number of scientific fields such as psychology, genetics, and neuroscience. Are you sure?
A:
Yep.
Q:
Oh come on, not even a hint of doubt?
A:
Nope.
Q:
So you’re saying that a man raised as the son of a king, accustomed to
authority and obedience, pampered in comfort and luxury, destined for absolute
rule over a peaceful and highly advanced kingdom would have turned out exactly
the same had he been an orphan raised by space pirates?
A:
Exactly.
Q:
Well, that’s, ah, very. Okay, explain.
A:
Easy. He’s Chadwick Boseman.
Q:
And?
A:
That’s it. That’s all. He’s Chadwick Boseman.
Q:
So, the original Star-Lord (Peter Quill, played by Chris Pratt) was kind of a
roguish asshole in the Han Solo mode not because Peter Quill had been
raised by a single mother crazier than a sack full of weasels who then died of
cancer leaving the young boy wholly and utterly bereft and alone and then in
that single moment when he was at his lowest he was kidnapped by space child
traffickers who intended to sell him to a godlike planet-being as psychic food, not any of that, but because Peter Quill was a dick?
A:
Well, he was no Chadwick Boseman, am I right?
Q:
I see. Okay, try this then: Is there any conflict or tension between one’s
loyalty to the family one creates through friendship and shared experiences, and
loyalty to one’s genetic family, who have not shared those experiences?
A:
No.
Q:
So if you lived most of your life believing your family was dead, then 20 years
later found out they were still alive, you would not feel torn between staying
with the family you had built for yourself on the one hand, and returning to a
family you barely know or remember on the other?
A:
Nah. They'd love each other.
Q:
Because…?
A:
Because he’s Chadwick Boseman.
Q:
Uh huh.
A:
Chadwick Boseman is awesome.
Q:
Not to disagree here, but it seems to be we’ve set up two juicy sources of
potential conflict that might actually explore the concept we’ve introduced
here, then immediately resolved both of them without even the slightest pause
because …
A:
Chadwick Boseman is awesome.
Q:
… because Chadwick Boseman is awesome, exactly. And—not to take away anything
from Mr. Boseman’s state of awesomenity, awesomeitude, awesomeosity—perhaps
also because Marvel is nervous about its viewers being even slightly
uncomfortable or conflicted or thoughtful for even a sliver of a nanosecond?
A:
These are kids’ shows, you know.
Q:
The way children’s entertainment has gradually overtaken more and more of the
market as western society psychically retreats for the hellworld we have
created into comforting nostalgia and fantasy has not gone unremarked, no. Nor
has the fact that the actual target audience of such entertainment is most
definitely and emphatically not kids entirely escaped notice. Yes, these are
fun little throwaway morsels designed to do nothing more than distract us for a
moment and fill the idle times in our lives, but I think it’s fair to sigh over
the way they steadfastly refuse to even hint at any kind of conflict that does
not involve punching things.
A:
Chadwick Boseman punches Benicio del Toro in this one.
Q:
He sure does. He also exhibits an awareness of the history of slavery in the
United States despite never having visited there, being raised in a position of
incredible privilege from a young age, and then spending the overwhelming
majority of his life hundreds of lightyears away from Earth.
A:
What are you talking about? Chadwick Boseman knows all about the history of the
United States.
Q:
We really have conflated the character with the actor haven’t we?