Culture War Fodder: On Greta Gerwig’s BARBIE (& More)

So, I decided to scrap my review of Black Mirror‘s fifth season because, after mulling it over a bit and seeing what others thought of the season, I couldn’t really say as much about it as I initially assumed. I also haven’t made much progress on the fourth part of my MCU Catch-Up about the Guardians of the Galaxy Christmas Special and the series’ third installment (with a brief retrospective on the first two).

Instead, I wrote this. Hope you enjoy it and, if not, thanks for reading it anyway!


There’s no nice way to say this: the current pop culture discourse makes me incredibly depressed and, in turn, despise humanity as a whole. Well, at least, more than I usually do…

Lewis Waller is correct that we’ve had these clashes of values throughout the history of society, what you could call a “Culture War”, but our most recent clash of values is just…really fucking stupid. It feels like reality is turning into a parody you’d see featured in a Grand Theft Auto game. There’s nothing transformative or edifying about this discourse because, well, how can you discuss anything with people who call things “woke” yet can’t make a cohesive argument as to what that even means or why that’s bad? To them, it’s just self-evident, impossible to reconsider – though, I hope they do. Oh, then they’ll call you a pedophile or a groomer. Why? Just ‘cause. That is what most normal people would call a “waste of time”.

Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t bother me so much if the political symbolism attached to these movies, series, etc. was actually reflected in the content. Because, more often than not, it’s simply projected by Terminally Online™ dipshits and, frankly, I don’t want to understand why – lest I be infected by some kind of logic virus. It also wouldn’t hurt if others didn’t engage in this nonsense, perhaps “ironically” (another term rendered meaningless by the internet along with “satire”), by championing the film these anti-woke types hate for some bizarre reason. Especially when those films are made by large corporations and acting like them getting hundreds of millions at the box office is an achievement for social justice when, like, it’s not. Stop it, for the love of God. Do some organizing, go to a protest, make a blog detailing police brutality at length – don’t just consume media and call it a day.

The latest sacrificial lamb of this embarrassing social spectacle is Greta Gerwig’s Barbie. Like, it shouldn’t be, but we live in the darkest of timelines.

C’mon Barbie, Let’s Go Party!

For a while now, I’ve had an intense aversion to metacommentary in fiction.

It’s been a chronic annoyance, whether it’s something as recent as Velma or from years back like Jurrasic World. It’s difficult to come across a piece of media that wasn’t nudging and winking at the audience with a shit-eating grin. It became more and more of a crutch, especially in comedies, to the point where characterization and plot didn’t matter. Just being oh-so-self-aware while making lame observations about how silly this fictional story is don’t-cha-know was somehow enough for these people. People who, by the way, are paid to make entertainment. There’s no effort in it and it’s never really used to elevate the material, it’s about being so above it all that you don’t give a shit. So, by that logic, why should I give a shit about what they made? Why waste time on something so intentionally half-assed? Why even bother considering it, in the first place, if they’re not even going to try?

Thankfully, there is now a much-needed exception to that abhorrent rule, in the form of Greta Gerwig’s Barbie.

Its metacommentary – its metacomedy – is not only intrinsic to the film’s premise but manages to carry the entire narrative without relying on this pretense of sarcastic self-referentiality. In fact, what makes it work is downright embracing the artifice of its subject matter. However, rather than filtered through this very 1990s/2000s-era notion of “caring too much is lame”, this film really does care. It cares about the legacy of Barbie as a cultural phenomenon, it cares about how Barbie has affected our notions of femininity in contemporary society, and it cares about how Barbie can evolve to better reflect reality while still functioning as an aspirational figure for girls. However, just as importantly, it’s genuinely funny while showing such care.

There’s this tendency to believe that a “dumb fun” film can’t be meaningful and…that’s bullshit. If years upon years of suffering Oscar Bait have taught me anything, it’s that the veneer of prestige is often a smokescreen for ultimately vapid narratives that only espouse empty platitudes. At least, when it isn’t thinly veiled propaganda for the U.S. military. That, to me, is far more pretentious than unapologetic schlock that wears its heart on its sleeve. One that doesn’t care for subtlety, much like Garth Marenghi. Barbie’s comedy is broad, relying on exaggerated behavior, but it’s not “stupid” even if the characters behave that way. Everything they do and say, ridiculous as it is, has a point that leads to a fulfilling (enough) conclusion. Prior to Barbie, the only other films I’ve seen written and/or directed by Greta Gerwig were Frances Ha and Lady Bird. They were both certainly clever but, despite some chucklesome moments, neither of them was that comedic and skewed more to the dramatic side. So, on some level, I was worried that Barbie could end up being botched as an out-and-out comedy – a worry that was, thankfully, proved unnecessary.

Hey, look, it’s Harley Quinn!

The most perplexing part of the backlash to this film (which I’ll go into more detail – in the following sections) is about how it’s “man-hating” because…it’s not. At all. In fact, it does care about men, but specifically about the negative effects of toxic masculinity. I shouldn’t have to explain that the concept of “toxic masculinity” does not mean that all masculinity is inherently toxic. Still, I have to because many aspects we consider inherent to masculinity – despite ultimately being arbitrary, as the factualized sensibilities of the affluent – are actually self-destructive and detrimental despite their lionization. To be needlessly competitive with other men, as if obligated. To be obsessed with romantic and sexual conquest, if only to prove personal worth to those other men you compete with. To find certain behaviors or interests as “girly” and emasculating, even when you find them enjoyable and comforting in a cruel world.

The film, quite rightfully, argues all of that should be abandoned. Not purely for the sake of women, who are also negatively affected by it, but for men to be happier with who they are regardless of societal or interpersonal expectations or demands. To, in fact, have healthy relationships with other men not based on competition but shared interests and passions. If that’s somehow “man-hating”, I’ve gotta ask one important question: what fucking planet do you even come from?

However, I should clarify, that this film isn’t revolutionary in its politics. How can it be when Mattel is the one signing the checks? That’s just the reality of major film productions under capitalism but, as much as that fact does bother me, I don’t consider that an egregious transgression in of itself. The problem is that when it does pull punches, it’s distracting in how half-baked the results are within an otherwise cohesive directorial vision. Will Farrell’s presence as Mattel’s fictionalized CEO, which would’ve worked better as a one-scene cameo, quickly gets long in the tooth yet remains until the conclusion – all of which has this insecure air about it. Farrell and his underlings can’t just be the butt of the joke but are humanized, as well as awkwardly including them in the film’s resolution, adding very little.

The problem with the resolution isn’t entirely in Farrell’s hands but simply that the film works better when its stakes are personal in scope, and it’s greatly lessened by the third act’s conflict. The movie is, to some extent, about societal concerns in the micro sense – mainly how we define gender and the effect it has on the individual – but really can’t deal with them in the macro sense. I didn’t expect the film, nor think it was needed, to deal with it. It could’ve just been Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling simply reconciling and it’d work just as well.

So, it’s not perfect, but that’s not a deal breaker – as perfection isn’t actually a thing – and, ultimately, this is about something I briefly mentioned in the last paragraph: directorial vision. What makes this film as genuinely good as it is, warts and all, is that Greta Gerwig had something unique to say and show about a subject that interested her. That’s something we need more of, in so many of these theatrical releases, because brands can only go so far before the Law of Diminishing Returns kicks in. So many studio execs, with their bizarre hyper-fixation of content over context, seem to forget that it isn’t always about what is in the film but how it is conveyed by the filmmakers that intrigues and immerses the audience, rather than brand iconography.

Hey, look, it’s Shang-Chi!

Given its success at the box office, Barbie proves that…

Outrage-Industrial Complex

Now’s time for the shit show, folks!

Call me “out of touch” or “old-fashioned” for saying this, but there are a lot of internet phenomena that I’ll never understand the appeal of – such as reaction streams that could go on for ten hours or more – and doubt I’ll reconsider. I’ve got enough stuff on my plate as is and not really interested in trying anything that new (if only at the moment). Regardless of all that, I’d also never say they shouldn’t exist simply because they don’t appeal to me personally.

Actually, that’s not entirely true, because there’s an exception to that rule. It’s not just because I dislike the material (though I vehemently don’t) but because I find their existence reprehensible and culturally destructive. Seriously, if they disappeared tomorrow, it wouldn’t be soon enough – but at least they’d still be gone…

Whether it’s Benjamin Shapiro of the Daily Wire, William “The Critical Drinker” Jordan, Jeremy “Geeks+Gamers” Griggs, Jeremy “The Quartering” Hambly, or Gary “Nerdronic” Buechler – their entire purpose is to throw gasoline onto the fire that is the current Culture War, for an audience who are perpetually enraged over the pettiest of concerns. It doesn’t matter if they genuinely believe what they say or are simply grifters exploiting the ignorant because, regardless of intention, the result remains the same, and none of us end up better off. To differentiate between each of them – to nitpick the minutiae of their insipid arguments – is missing the forest for the trees: they are all interchangeable and that is because who they are doesn’t matter, it’s that they echo a sentiment that validates and enables the worst impulses of their audience. An audience that, under the most sinister circumstances, can be radicalized to reactionary politics, not due to a deep-seated interest in political theory, rhetoric, and praxis but poisoning the well of pop culture discourse to make it as toxic as possible. That toxicity, as pathetically unserious as it is, is foundational to reactionary politics.

Before dying and being cast into the deepest circle of Hell, to sit between Rush Limbaugh and the seat reserved for Henry Kissinger, Andrew Breitbart espoused a certain sentiment: politics is downstream from pop culture. One can’t help but think, when hearing that, the current incarnation of the Culture War was heavily influenced by this attitude and propagated these retrograde man-children to appeal to the fanboy rage of other man-children, all in order to make them just as retrograde. Even if, at this moment, their popularity seems to be dwindling – there will always be another generation of outrage-baiting grifters who’ll continue to make the world a worse place to live in. Of all the names I mentioned in the previous paragraph, I doubt any of them – with the only possible exception being Benjamin Shapiro (what with being financed by environmentally destructive billionaires) – will matter to anyone except the most Terminally Online™ several years from now. Simply a footnote, and nothing more. Their lifespan may be short but their easily expendable and replaceable nature means that there’ll be another generation of shit-stirrers weaponizing humanity’s worst habits as a means of profit and influence.

The Devil will get his due, Hank…

The thing is, with Barbie, that it’s nearly impossible to find a single criticism from any of them to at least be cogent. They cannot. For a film that supposedly “hates men”, as they like to claim, it never occurs to them – if not being purposefully obtuse – the film’s feminist philosophy applies to both women and men. I’ve already described why but, as the YouTube channel Pillar of Garbage eloquently analyzed, individuals like William “The Critical Drinker” Jordan don’t go into a movie like this open-mindedly or even willing to engage with the content on its own terms. It’s all fodder for some ideological polemic that is obviously more concerned with pushing a nonsensical notion of how Hollywood, a place that is just as capitalistic as everywhere else in the United States, is “pandering” to all the “wokes”.

The saddest part of all this, as if it weren’t already depressing enough, is that this line of argumentation isn’t new. In fact, it’s been around for decades and simply dons a new facade every half-decade or so to stay relevant. William Lind and Bill O’Reilly don’t carry the same social capital as they used to but, nonetheless, their brand of fear-mongering over “political correctness” remains in the form of current rightwing punditry decrying “wokeism” and “cancel culture”. O’Reilly’s “War On Christmas” narrative, when thinking about it for a second or two, is completely laughable since it comes down to blind outrage over the mere acknowledgment that there are other holidays around the same time that are not Christmas.

Saying “Happy Holidays” cannot, regardless of one’s overactive imagination, erase the fact the majority of people within the United States identify as Christian, in some form or another, and celebrate Christmas. Proven further by the fact that, of all the holidays acknowledged in the United States, Christmas is blatantly celebrated in public, and media – like movies and special episodes in series – are made specifically to celebrate it. Chanukah, Diwali, and Ramadan have yet to somehow overshadow Christmas simply due to saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Happy Christmas”. Of course, O’Reilly doesn’t have an original bone in his bloated body and got it from elsewhere – specifically Henry Ford. Yes, that Henry Ford. Because, of course, Hitler’s pen pal would be the kind of guy who’d argue that the Jews would take away Christmas. Never mind that, like, it still has yet to happen and is very unlikely to ever will.

Another terrible Hank!

Are you noticing the trend here? These people are concocting delusional, paranoid fantasies to talk about incessantly – to speak of some nebulous doomsday that will happen soon, yet never does. When it doesn’t, goalposts are conveniently shifted and talking points revised to assert that there’ll be another nebulous doomsday that’ll happen soon yet, again, never does. It’s a snake with the shits, eating its own tail, somehow continuously swallowing its shit-covered self. Most importantly, this is almost never a concern of the marginalized – they’re too busy trying to get by and survive – but almost always a privileged person who has no right to complain about their current situation. In having such boring yet untroubled lives, they have to create their own problems…

A Much-Needed Reality Check

There’s this thing called the “Overton Window” which, if you’re unfamiliar, is a way of gauging the acceptability of government policy within a region. That’s obviously not the most comprehensive definition but it’s important to the point I’m bringing up: as much as people in the U.S. use “liberal” interchangeably with “leftwing”, the reality is that in many Western European nations (and Canada), liberalism is considered a center-right position, and that tells you a lot about how – when coupled with a geocentric attitude and mass political illiteracy – ridiculously rightwing the U.S. actually is as a country. While those Western European nations (and Canada) tend to, but not always, stay in the center of the Overton Window, the U.S. is so skewed to the right that even policies that would be considered sensibly moderate to the point of being downright inoffensive are hyperbolically framed as “radical leftism”.

If there’s a reason the current Culture War is so bizarre to the point of self-parody it’s partly because, in an aggressively rightwing country, even the smallest of changes is treated as the end of the fucking world. In a more politically balanced (or, preferably, leftwing) place – a black woman being the lead in a film wouldn’t matter in any form of serious political discourse. We certainly wouldn’t have politicians acting as if Dylan Mulvaney receiving a single goddamn can of beer with her face on it was, somehow, grooming children (I’m pretty certain they don’t drink beer) to become trans. You would think, being policy-makers, there’d be more pressing concerns like preparing for climate disasters, fixing the economy, or curtailing the ridiculous amount of gun deaths year in and year out – but they’re just ignored or treated as some afterthought. I think, at the root of it all, it’s that their ideas really suck and would only make things worse for most citizens, purely to benefit themselves and their associates, and literally have nothing else but the Culture War to be appealing to the majority of their voter base.

The ultimate problem with framing politics as being downstream from pop culture is that, while it may help radicalize those whose outrage can be weaponized, it doesn’t make them more politically involved in any other substantive, long-term, way. They can only ever function in the short term. Their idea of political activism begins and ends with being outraged over their favorite hobby supposedly invaded by nefarious outsiders, who are nowhere near as powerful and influential as they think. Hollywood films having slightly more people of color, women, and LGBTQ+ individuals than usual is just the bare minimum when it comes to representation. It implies a form of tunnel vision, on behalf of these reactionaries, that they’ll view exceptions as the rule rather than feeding crumbs to the marginalized for marketing purposes.

Wokeness, brought to you by….the U.S. Air Force?

What can we do about such people, though, when the next wave of pop culture-poisoned shit-stirrers comes around to annoy us all to death? I don’t have a definitive, all-encompassing answer but I’ll try to suggest a few things that could help.

For one, we should keep in mind that internet presence does not equate to popular sentiment outside of it and that much of that presence is simply due to obnoxiously vocal niches. They only seem to be popular because of the often intense and repetitive nature of their rhetoric, which can be easily mistaken for a commonly held belief based on frequency alone. Prevalence and relevance are far more important to consider when such inflation is so easy.

Secondly, we need to stop politicizing pop culture in general and simply treat Art as Art; which, while political in itself, should not become the basis for any serious political discourse. Even Online Leftists™ have this bad habit of trying to politicize pop culture, as a case of “fighting fire with fire”, yet all they’re really doing is fueling those reactionaries further. Any form of engagement, even when it is disparaging and disproves them in every conceivable way, validates them as they perceive it as being treated seriously enough to argue against. The best way to react is with a combination of sarcastic derision and flippant dismissal because, ultimately, their concerns are so juvenile and inconsequential that it’s all they truly deserve. If you give them an inch, they’ll take it a million goddamn miles.

Third, and lastly but definitely not least, fandom needs to be kept separate from political activism – with the thickest, most impenetrable barrier ever. Like Church and State, the politicization of pop culture and the toxic, irrational fervor that comes with many fandoms is a dangerous combination whose effects are disconcerting. It is telling that some within Donald Trump’s cult of personality were so politically illiterate that, upon receiving his status as President of the United States and immediately trying to implement executive orders, were surprised when they realized he didn’t, in fact, have their best interests at heart. There’s a scene in King of the Hill where Hank takes Bobby to a speech by former U.S. President George W. Bush and tells him to not listen to the words but to the sound of his voice, eventually feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Just like Hank Hill, these people do not care about the practicality or consequences of government policy – it’s all about vibes for them. The MAGA crowd isn’t a political movement but a fandom where Trump is at the center of their world, as much as Superman could be for comicbook readers or Dark Souls is for hardcore gamers. With such an unhealthy personal attachment, was it really that unexpected for them to believe in an asinine conspiracy theory about a wholly legitimate election being fraudulent? That, regardless of any facts proving it legitimate, they were so heavily invested to the point of attempting a violent coup to overturn those election results? This, my friends, is what happens when you combine myopic, obsessive fandom with a former rich entertainer-turned-politician who holds influence over them…

Okay, that’s too many Hanks.

We need to appreciate Art for Art’s sake and treat politics with the gravity it deserves. There’s still room to have critical discussions about Art – including the politics of a work – but that doesn’t make it a replacement for how we discuss issues both social and economic. Of legislation and laws, and how systems can be abused when not being vigilant enough to enforce them justly. These are things that pop culture can comment upon, to be topical, but can never properly discuss or analyze them when entertainment is their primary purpose. To discuss politics properly requires a level of effort – to understand theory, rhetoric, and praxis – but anyone can comment on pop culture as it doesn’t necessarily require knowledge to discuss. It’s a disservice to both Art and politics to treat them so interchangeably, to allow for bad-faith actors, charlatans, and useful idiots to steal attention away from and hijack any discussion that could be otherwise informative and constructive. We need to keep them out, at all costs, out of respect for both Art and politics.

I have one last thing to say to those who view themselves as Culture Warriors, some simple advice that should be taken to heart, that was best expressed by Anna Gunn as Skylar White in Breaking Bad:


My next piece is likely going to be, due to the recent release of its sequel, the second in A Soulsborne Review series – Blasphemous!

Until then…

MCU Catch-Up (Part 3): NO WAY HOME, MOON KNIGHT, and MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS

Welcome back, y’all!

I was actually working on this one prior to my Elden Ring review but, of course, it ended up on the back burner for a year or so as I became obsessed with FromSoft’s latest Soulsborne title. Nonetheless, as the title of this series does suggest, I do want to catch up on talking about the Marvel Cinematic Universe as a series of mini-reviews. However, I was originally going by the release date of each installment but, as indicated by the end of this piece, I’ll be deviating from it.

Anyway: hope you enjoy it and, even if you don’t, thanks for bothering to read it whatsoever!


Spider-Man: No Way Home

I was expecting to hate this movie – or, perhaps, wanted to hate it.

As critical as I may be, I usually never want to hate something before I experience it first-hand. There was a reason for that: unlike many, many others, I don’t like any of the Sam Raimi Spider-Man movies and the same applies to the Andrew Garfield-era Amazing Spider-Man and its atrocious sequel. So, of course, press releases claiming the third and final Tom Holland Spidey movie would involve characters from those films made me hesitant, at first, but it soon turned into an intense bitterness. Why? I’m so fucking sick of all the nostalgia-pandering, the fan service now more nauseating than ever before, and oh-so-self-aware meta-commentary being used to replace proper storytelling and characterization.

Still, as someone who – much like Batman – is still fond enough of Spider-Man as a character and their supporting cast, I was going to watch it eventually. Even if begrudgingly. After finally getting around to it, I…actually liked it. Not a ton, mind you, but – unlike Eternals – my low expectations helped and the fan service (i.e. the bane of my existence) wasn’t anywhere near as tone-deaf as the trailers and advertisements made them out to be.

In fact, I think the cast members of the previous films are better here than they were in those past installments. As much as people liked the hamminess of the Rami films – I just found it to be pure cringe (except for J.K. Simmons ‘cause…J.K. Simmons). Even consummate professionals like Willem Dafoe and Alfred Molina couldn’t make it work for me but, in No Way Home, there’s a mild sense of restraint that makes them feel far more natural and easier to connect with. It’s proven further by Andrew Garfield’s performance as, far from being unfit in the role for the Amazing Spider-Man films, his poor performance there was more a product of the directing and the writing (or, more accurately, lack thereof). Jon Watt’s direction is very workmanlike, which has its limitations, but along with that and the script written by Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers, it makes everything feel verisimilitudinous enough than needlessly over-the-top or adlibbed in the most annoyingly twee fashion imaginable. Just about every interaction, especially between the three Spideys, is rife with fantastic character moments.

Unfortunately, besides the deft use of extended cameos and the character moments that come with them, there’s not much else that I like about the film. The premise and plot are nakedly contrived, especially in how much it has in common with Into the Spider-Verse (i.e. the best Spidey movie) and borrows from, much to my chagrin, the largely maligned comicbook storyline “One More Day.” You could chalk that up to Tom Holland’s Spidey being a teenager who, understandably, will make mistakes – but it also contradicts the point of Far From Home (i.e. the second-best Spidey movie). If this is the same kid who quickly realized that he shouldn’t control a fleet of killer drones, then why would he be willing to use a reality-altering spell that’s more dangerous? Even Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), who is known for bending the rules for the best result, feels out-of-character in being too willing to use that reality-altering spell just so some kid can un-doxx himself. I mean, yeah, we also get a neat fight where Dr. Strange goes all X/1999 and brings back M.C. Escher World – but everything that incites it just feels…wrong. It’s hard to watch and not be reminded that this is basically glorified cross-promotional material between Sony and Disney first and foremost, with narrative and characterization being no more than an afterthought. Thankfully, they were decently done afterthoughts, in this case.

By the end, I was happy enough with it but not enthusiastically so. It’s weird to me how many people spoke so reverently (“It’s an event!” is easily the most meaningless phrase I hear in film criticism next to “It does what it intended to do!”) about this film when it’s just okay, like the majority of the MCU, and isn’t really doing anything all that new or revolutionary with the material. It doesn’t have to but, again, I think Disney could afford to take some risks, and No Way Home felt like business as usual.

Speaking of business as usual, but with more disappointment…

Moon Knight

Y’know what I was hoping for? Horror-style storytelling. Did I get such? Not really.

There are elements of horror in there but like so many MCU installments, the showrunners seem hesitant to go all in and it largely ends up as another action-comedy. It’s not obnoxiously comedic, thankfully, but what little action there is to be had is poorly done, save for one sequence at the very end, and that was too little too late – not to mention occurring so quickly that you can blink and completely miss it. So…what else is there to this show? Not much, unfortunately.

Unlike No Way Home, I was looking forward to this series as someone who is particularly fond of the fairly obscure (until now, anyway) comicbook character and, again, framing it more as horror than a superhero story when advertised piqued my interest further. It does have moments thanks to Oscar Isaac’s versatility as an actor, making Jeremy Irons’ performance in Dead Ringers look lame in comparison, I’m also happy to see May Calamawy get more work what with being fantastic in Ramy (WATCH IT – WATCH IT NOW, YOUSE!!!), and F. Murray Abraham is just fuckin’ hilarious as Khonshu. There’re neat details too, like how the titular character’s (“characters’”?) outfit is a magical mummy wrap, reflecting the (dissociative) personality of the individual wielding it at the moment, as well as taking notes from the Jeff Lemire run on the comic – specifically the supernatural prison in the form of a psychiatric ward.

However, those are moments and they’re overshadowed by a heavily-padded plot that is essentially an elongated videogame fetch-quest (as if it isn’t an awful way to frame a non-interactive story). A lot of these Disney+ series feel like they’re taking material that might work for two or three episodes but decompressing them to be twice or thrice as long, which was a problem the Netflix series had as well but, back then, it was the new hotness ‘cause Game of Thrones and no one else saw it as an issue then. I mean, I did, obviously. It’s kind of weird to have a series like Jessica Jones be about a private investigator but, due to these dull season-long stories focusing on a singular primary antagonist (who’re all boring as shit except Zebediah Killgrave…who they make the mistake of killing off), barely has her doing any actual investigation the way a case-of-the-week show like Murder, She Wrote would have done. With Moon Knight, there’s just too much dead air between the sparse events that manage to be partially interesting or exciting and it makes every episode feel like a chore to sit through.

Y’know what wasn’t a chore to sit through, though? The next entry!

Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness

I spoke too soon when I said Shang-Chi was as close to perfection as you could get with an MCU film – after Infinity War and Winter Soldier – because Multiverse of Madness just blows it out of the motherfuckin’ water.

It might seem weird, after bringing up how I disliked Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man films, to praise another film directed by him, but I don’t dislike all of Sam Raimi’s work. Multiverse of Madness isn’t anything like that trilogy and has more in common with Evil Dead 2, Army of Darkness, and – best of all – Darkman. I love how Raimi does horror-comedy and, unlike Moon Knight, his predilection towards the genre carries over into Multiverse of Madness, which makes it so much more satisfying as an experience. You can also tell that Raimi was given a deal of creative freedom a lot of others just simply aren’t given, and the level of visual style and atmosphere he brings is unlike that of (say) Ant-Man & The Wasp or Captain Marvel, to the point it’s actually rather startling.

There’s this notion of “superhero fatigue” and…I think it’s bullshit. Imagine if people started talking about “comedy fatigue” or “drama fatigue” – as if each and every entry in those genres were exactly alike – you’d probably find it absurd (at least, I hope you would). To me, films like Multiverse of Madness as well as Into the Spider-Verse and the second Suicide Squad prove that the issue isn’t superheroes as a genre, but that many superhero movies are too similar to each other. It’s formula fatigue, not genre fatigue. For all the problems Multiverse of Madness may have – there are contrivances aplenty and some baffling lines of dialogue (are all dreams glimpses into alternate realities?) – its presentation more than makes up for it and maintains interest throughout its runtime. There’s enough breathing room between scenes, to absorb what’s happened, but never lingers enough to become a lull. I’d even go as far as to say the pacing is almost immaculate.

A point of contention I’ve seen, from some, is the use of Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) as the primary antagonist due to how much it contradicts the purpose of WandaVision. It’s understandable having written about the mini-series myself but, at the same time, she’s used so well in Multiverse of Madness that I just didn’t care about that whatsoever. Not to mention WandaVision was a creative mess full of compromises, and contradictions, and makes all the personal development Wanda Maximova went through moot at the last minute. She is, appropriately, a supernatural slasher villain that feels more like an unstoppable force of nature than a single powerful person – where literally no barrier can contain her. Well, not for long, anyway. It’s unfortunate they had to use a doomsday prophesy and partial mind-control by an evil grimoire because, given the losses she’s been through in her life and the events of WandaVision, she already had enough motivation to act that way. Because, much like how Dormammu was defeated in the previous film, Wanda’s downfall doesn’t take the form of just hitting her continuously until she falls over – like far too many climactic MCU confrontations – because, as established, she is far too powerful to be beaten by brute force. Once again, Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) is required to conceive of a clever solution that leaves his adversary practically yielding to him.

I won’t say exactly how, for the sake of surprise, but it makes me yearn for more of it elsewhere. It’s certainly more fulfilling than the final fight between T’Challa and Killmonger in Black Panther. Y’know, where it ends up looking like a match from Killer Instinct in which both players chose the same character, having a skin/palette swap for one to differentiate them, with no sense of weight, force, or impact. Honestly, them resolving the conflict with a heated Shakespearean debate would’ve been more exciting than all that goofy-lookin’ shit – like watching the verbal sparring between Ajay Devgn and Prakash Raj in Singham (WATCH IT – WATCH IT NOW, YOUSE!!!). At least, when there are fight scenes in Multiverse of Madness, it involves Dr. Strange and a corrupted doppelganger slinging musical notes at one another as if they’re magic missiles from Dungeons & Dragonsall that echoes the film’s soundtrack.

Seriously, I could’ve made a full-length review of this movie about each element I liked and why but, given the format here, I’ve gone on long enough. Some of what I left unmentioned – specifically Xochitl Gomez as America Chavez and Rachel McAdams as Christine Palmer – is actually going to be more relevant in my future mini-review of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 than it would here, as little more than a quick afterthought. If you know me well enough, that I wasn’t that fond of the first two installments, your mind is definitely gonna be blown…


The fourth part of MCU Catch-Up, which will be about Guardians of the Galaxy: Holiday Special and Vol. 3, isn’t going to come out next week (or the one after, if only due to circumstance) – it’s going to be about the sixth season of Black Mirror. I was quite surprised by it because, along with Netflix being terrible at promoting its own content, it has been so many years since the last one. I wasn’t expecting the series to ever actually come back, regardless of whatever the press releases suggested but, now that it has, I can’t help but comment on it.

Until then…

Snark & Barf: Review of HIGH ON LIFE and SCORN

Hey, look, I actually kept my (self-imposed) promise!

This is going to be a pretty brief preamble ’cause – other than my next piece will be the far overdue third part of MCU Catch-Up about Spider-Man: No Way Home, Moon Knight, and Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness – I don’t have much to say other than this’ll be quite breezy compared to the miniature tome (y’know, sorta like the Orange Catholic Bible from Dune – but online!) that was my Elden Ring review.

Oh, and I wrote this prior to us finding out – unsurprisingly – about Justin Roiland’s transgressions. Not gonna defend the guy, ’cause he’s a piece of shit for doing it…

That said: hope you enjoy reading!


Did I ever mention how much I love body horror? I’m pretty sure I have, but just in case I haven’t: I love body horror. I have since I first watched Alien and Aliens when I was…six years old (thank God my parents were that lax). These two games? They’re both full of gross shit!

The New Flesh

Well, actually, High On Life is gross – Scorn is downright disgusting.

The difference between the two can best be described as, respectively, adolescently scatological shenanigans and a morbidly erotic fascination with exploring and manipulating anatomical structures. That’s not to say one is necessarily better than the other as much as they share similarities in subject matter while nonetheless remaining distinct in their execution. Knowing that Rick & Morty co-creator, Justin Roiland, founded the developer of High On Life – Squanch Games – should be enough to tell you what kind of humor is to be expected and it is generally a light-hearted, breezy affair. On the other hand, Serbian developer Ebb Software crafted an oppressive setting that feels like a rotting body being fed on by ravenous necrophages. The player character is little but a weakened red blood cell that hasn’t died or succumbed to a cancerous infection – or, at least, not yet.

One’s mileage will inevitably vary when it comes to High On Life’s form of comedy, but speaking only for myself, it’s more miss than hit since it goes for quantity over quality. There’s more consistency and better comedic timing within a 22-minute episode of Rick & Morty or Solar Opposites, but High On Life’s jokes often overstay their welcome by either oh-so-ironically overexplaining themselves or by dropping too many allusions to other pop culture properties at once. The latter can, on occasion, end up working from time to time. A favorite of mine is a phone booth in the game’s hub city, leading to a series of awkwardly one-sided diatribes to the taciturn player character, which’re eerily reminiscent of the collectible conversations featured in The Darkness. However, it’s far less amusing when a character brings up various anime (or anime-inspired cartoons, in Code Lyoko’s case) as well as Final Fantasy VII while using a diagonal elevator when going from one part of a level to another.

Shut. The. Fuck. UP!!!

Scorn is an acquired taste, a very specific acquired taste; like sardines if their pungent scent and bitter taste came with an equitable sense of existential horror and the kind of shock-induced nausea from witnessing a freshly-made murder scene. It is not fun or exciting, there is no empowerment or satisfying closure, and hope for relief in a pleasant end is what fuels the unpleasantly biomechanical nightmare. But, of course, hope can only go so far. It’s closer to an interactive H.R. Giger painting than either Darkseed or its hilariously terrible and interminable sequel. Well, technically, an H.R. Giger and Zdzisław Beksiński painting – according to the developers – but it’s definitely more Gigeresque than Beksińskian. As much as I’ve described this game in the least appealing way imaginable, I happen to be an admirer of both Giger and Beksiński’s work, and that ended up making the experience far more engaging for me than it was for either Ben Croshaw or Jim Stephanie Sterling. I can’t fault either of them because, again, it’s a very acquired taste.

Now, what do you do in these games? You shoot things with a gun, of course! Well, kinda.

That’s Not A Gun…

The guns in these games are alive. Quite literally.

High On Life’s Gatliens (admittedly, I do love that portmanteau) can speak and are voiced by a handful of comedians – Roiland himself, Betsy Sodaro, J.B. Smoove, and Tim Robinson – to varying degrees of success. I know Roiland has more range, as a voice actor, but he’s relying too heavily on sounding like variations of Rick & Morty’s titular characters and ends up delivering the majority of that aforementioned deluge of oh-so-meta and irony-poisoned jokes. Sodaro and Smoove are fine, I guess, but they’re also given the least amount of dialogue and not given much characterization despite the room to do such. Like, they have lines of dialogue but they’re more like placeholders in a script instead of attempting to further develop them as individual companions.

It’s unfortunate Tim Robinson ends up being the odd one out. His Gatlien, Creature, is the final of the four to be attained yet gives the best performance in the game. Perhaps I’m biased, as I Think You Should Leave is comedic gold to me (“Tables are my corn!”), but Robinson excels at playing ostensibly congenial individuals who gradually reveal themselves to be mentally unhinged. Unlike the series, the game ends up making Creature more endearing than disconcerting, which easily makes them the best character in the game. You can’t help but find it tragic, yet heartening, that a person who’s been experimented upon and became brain-damaged from the process, and who’s accompanied by a sense of self-hatred, never loses their sense of empathy and compassion for others. Plus, like, there’s an entire section where he uses a Transatlantic gumshoe affectation that’s wonderful music to my detective-noir-loving ears.

How the Gatliens function in the main gameplay loop, save for Creature (of course), is equally disappointing. Kenny (Roiland) functions as a typically underpowered semi-automatic pistol, Sweezy (Sodaro) is a submachine gun that wouldn’t be out of place in the Halo games, and Gus (Smoove) is a piss-poor shotgun with a vestigial special function. Creature, on the other hand, is an amusing take on a grenade launcher, but each round is their suicide-bomber offspring who latch onto enemies to cause damage like a combination of Mr. Meeseeks and the claymation homunculi from TOOL’s “Schism” music video (which does, in fact, live rent-free in my head). Only when the game moves away from gunfights and into exploration are the Gatlians and your lone melee weapon (a living knife named…”Knifey”, voiced by Michael Cusak) at their most interesting.

Bloodsucking Stringbean Homunculi

Platforming mechanics with 3D graphics have always been fraught with issues – some of which High On Life displays – but I’m also reminded of how thrilling it is when done right. I mean, it’ll never feel as satisfying as web-slinging around Manhattan in the recent Spider-Man games, but High On Life’s attempts are an improvement on the mechanics in Quake and on par with the earlier Rachet & Clank titles. There’s a level of nostalgia to it, making me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, but it still manages to make you recollect each and every wart. It’s imprecise and the environment doesn’t always indicate what is or isn’t reachable (‘cause invisible walls), leaving certain sections an exercise in aggravation, but it’s more memorable than the flaccid gunplay that feels only a few steps above Chex Quest. Unless, like, that was the point in the first place…?

Where Scorn differs, besides the extreme opposite in tone, is that there’s really only one gun. Though that’d be inaccurate as it’s actually a living gun handle with detachable, interchangeable heads to operate (respectively) as a giant melee cattle gun jackhammer, pistol, and shotgun. There is a grenade launcher, but it comes late in the game and is barely used for combat. In true survival horror fashion, the gunplay is tertiary to the exploration and environmental puzzle-solving, akin to pushing buttons and pulling levers in the right order for the world’s most stomach-churning Rube Goldberg machine. The buttons and levers (obviously) are shaped like wet, glistening orifices and appendages with cogs that sound like creaking bones or the tearing sinews of muscle when they move.

The reason I haven’t mentioned ammunition as a factor in gameplay is that, in High On Life’s case, it doesn’t really matter. Each Gatlien has limited rounds that can be fired before needing to be reloaded – but the pool of rounds itself is technically unlimited. The logic behind it (if you can call it “logical”) is that, in being living creatures as opposed to constructed tools of warfare, the ammunition they use is actually bodily excretions that’ve been weaponized. Again, it’s a gross game like that, but…that doesn’t make sense either. You only need to feed the Gatliens spikey fruit in order to use their special abilities in combat which, while it serves a mechanical purpose, makes you wonder how they can still endlessly produce piss/shit/kamikaze babies without having appetites that’d put all the Hobbits of Middle-Earth to shame. Maybe I wouldn’t care so much if the game itself didn’t spend so much time calling out the ridiculousness of its own premise. 

Scorn, however, is far more interesting in the presentation and usage of ammunition within gameplay. Its lack of explanation for, well, anything ends up working in its favor. As Scorn’s world is one where the biological and mechanical have been melded together into something entirely new and are now inseparable from one another, the living weaponry simply sustains itself by performing its designated function. What it uses as projectiles is neither spit, mucous nor bile – it’s dentata. It is teeth. Motherfuckin’ bullet teeth.

Oh, do you think my references to the filmography of David Cronenberg began and ended with the first section’s title? Well, yeah, you were totally wrong – especially when there’s an even more apropos entry than Videodrome!

Just say it with me, y’all: eXistenZ

Y’see, High On Life is too high on its own supply of farts and “I don’t care” pretension rather than being genuinely earnest enough to ever present any meaningful commentary about the medium. I mean, how could it, when there’ve already been dozens of other videogames being all self-aware about the absurdities of their medium for years now? Even though eXistenZ did it before all of them – much like how Mystery Men did for superhero movies, far before they gained worldwide popularity. It took the interactivity of videogames as a medium to its logical (and grotesque) extreme. It showed what a fully dissociative experience would result in when the walls between reality and fiction are blurred, beyond both physical and psychological comfort.

Scorn evokes similar themes itself without a single line of dialogue or smug color commentary in order to do so – it does far more with less, while High On Life does very little with too much.

Xenomorphosis

Maybe, had it been developed and released during the early 2000s, I’d have loved High On Life – or, at least, a game like it since Rick & Morty wouldn’t exist for several years. I’d even give it some slack were it simply an earnest throwback to that particular decade of first-person shooters, instead of jumping on a bandwagon that was already running on fumes. But, no, it had to decide to follow a trend…

Honestly, fuck meta-commentary, comedic or otherwise. Its pervasiveness in entertainment has turned it into a crutch for a haphazardly-constructed plot and half-baked characterization rather than any actual deconstruction of narrative tropes. As if the story is endlessly winking and nudging you to affirm that, yes, everything happening is very silly don’t-cha know it! But those observations, simply by themselves, just aren’t funny. There needs to be more to it, and that happens when you have well-defined characters who bounce off one another in absurd-yet-interesting situations.

I’m probably not going to play High On Life again, and I sincerely doubt anyone will remember it a year or so from now. I also doubt this game could’ve existed without Rick & Morty’s popularity and acting as [Adult Swim]’s flagship title. As if it was made not because it was an original idea people felt enthusiastic enough about to make manifest but as merchandise for the Roilandverse. I can only hope, in Scorn’s case, that its current lack of exposure and attention eventually leads to a delayed appreciation – ‘cause, and I’m entirely serious saying this, it’s a masterpiece. The game’s development feels like a product of love and dedication, moreso given just how idiosyncratic it is as a title in the current industry, and – when looking into it further – they left a lot on the cutting room floor to make the final version possible. It’s a game I do, in fact, want to replay in the near future.

“…k i l l….m e…”

Scorn is something that, though far from easily palatable, is a brief yet incredibly unique experience you don’t see much of elsewhere. It’s an immersive mood piece that cares little for player empowerment or even a sense of closure, and there’s still a lot of value in that – not every film, series, comicbook, or novel “needs” to be fun either. It’s worth some consideration, even at a significant discount, than to have never tried it at all…


Um, yeah, got nothin’ here.

See y’all next week!

Der ELDEN des RING: A Soulsborne Review

Last year was far from my most productive one and…neither has this year, in fact!

I’ve got excuses, a surplus of them, but most central here – other than my recurrent writer’s block – is that I ended up becoming overwhelmingly engrossed by the subject of this piece, with the initial draft being constantly built upon and restructured over three complete playthroughs. It was honestly hard to concentrate on writing anything else and made me feel like a really lazy asshole for not being able to write things on the side (most of which remain incomplete save for just one).

That’s the most innocuous reason, though, as there was something else more personal to preoccupy me: my father passed away on March 9th, of this year, and the game ended up becoming a bit of a coping mechanism for it. Although it was already something of a coping mechanism as I was dealing with a new medical condition in the form of Type-2 diabetes that, when coupled without having any anti-depressant medication for an entire month due to medical insurance issues, lead to something of an emotional breakdown. I’m still recovering from it all but, having finally finished this review, maybe I’ll finally be able to go back to writing about anything else – for partly therapeutic reasons.

In a way, this has all been a year in the making. Hopefully, it wasn’t all in vain…


I know the pieces fit
‘Cause I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering
Fundamental differing
Pure intention juxtaposed
Will set two lovers’ souls in motion

Disintegrating as it goes
Testing our communication

Some time back, I thought of making a series of reviews based on games inspired by FromSoftware’s titles like Demon’s Souls, the Dark Souls series, Bloodborne, and Sekiro – however, it never came to be, and that’s not due to lack of trying. 

Imitation Isn’t Always Flattery

With very few exceptions (e.g. Blasphemous – which I’ll write about at a later date) they’re, at best, uninteresting and, at worst, unbearable to play. There’s nothing quite as painful as going into The Surge, giving it the benefit of the doubt due to its sci-fi aesthetic, and finding it harder to play as time passed; with the utterly pedestrian level design full of bland industrial environments, the identical human opponents with poor AI lacking any sense of tactics, and a story that is never intriguing enough to become invested in seeing it to the end. At least I played more of it than Mortal Shell, a game so visually ugly that it physically hurt my eyes after ten minutes, and refused to touch it since. However, even decent Soulsborne titles, such as Nioh and Salt & Sanctuary, don’t exactly work either.

Nioh certainly tries but it overcomplicates the combat to the point it’s too overwhelming, especially when coupled with the absurdly excessive weapon drops and turns inventory management into an aggravating chore. Then there’re the interchangeable levels, all of them extremely boring when compared to the likes of Sekiro, and its form of opaque storytelling without the bare minimum of characterization or proper narrative context makes it hard to feel engaged. Like The Surge and Mortal Shell, I never bothered finishing it. Salt & Sanctuary, though? I played it to the end – though even that isn’t saying much. It’s certainly more playable than the others and rather impressive it was developed by a two-person team, but it suffers from the same problem Lone Survivor had, in its admiration for Silent Hill, that it’s so derivative of its own influences. There’s very little thought put into making the setting and its lore truly distinct, an issue many Soulsborne titles have, and simply focuses on challenging gameplay. It’s bad enough the cretinous “Git Gud” types ignore some of the games’ best qualities, hyper-focusing on said challenging gameplay, but it’s worse when developers are influenced by it as well. To be fair, it does fix the problem Covenants had in the FromSoft Soulsborne titles, but…that’s it. Also, who cares? At that point, I didn’t.

Speaking of Silent Hill, Ben “Yahtzee” Crowshaw made a short video essay about how he wants the franchise to die rather than to be continued under Konami’s dubious supervision, with Blooper Team’s involvement in the Silent Hill II remake. Even though it was about Silent Hill, it could just as easily apply to every Soulsborne title not made by FromSoftware. Because what made FromSoft’s Soulsborne titles as memorable as they are was…being made by FromSoft, much like how the first four Silent Hill titles managed to work well because of Team Silent. Everyone who attempted to make their version of the material lacked a clear sense of identity and became over-reliant on brand recognition and popular trends, which will age terribly, in fiction. Even Star Wars itself is proving that, past the original trilogy, it’s simply recycling itself to the point it may as well be – as Chris Franklin eloquently described the franchise’s current state – an ouroboros. The times they do (rarely) explore new ideas or reveal unseen parts of the very lived-in setting are appreciated yet, at the same time, I’d rather it was in something else that wasn’t under the Star Wars banner.

What does any of this have to do with Elden Ring? Perhaps everything


The light that fueled our fire
Then has burned a hole between us so
We cannot seem to reach an end
Crippling our communication

Jack of Some Trades, Master of One

There’s another reason I despise the “Git Gud” mentality and disproportionate emphasis on
challenging combat: what FromSoft’s Soulsborne titles succeeded at the most was its level design. They created these epic, surreal fantasy worlds that make it impossible to not be enticed to explore them further – the story is told visually through those environments, with as little exposition as possible. Sure, you had conversations with NPCs or read the item descriptions for further details but they were always cryptic (intentionally so, according to head developer Hidetaka Miyazaki himself). I consider it the exemplar of quality ludonarratives.

Elden Ring isn’t just the accumulation and streamlining of every motif and mechanical element FromSoft has used on their previous Soulsborne titles, but the logical extension of the level design displayed in them as being their first true open-world title. It was something I actually dreaded at first, along with the addition of crafting, because…the world of gaming is lousy with open-world titles that have become soulless (pun absolutely intended – DON’T SHAME ME!), generic hamster wheels in the form of entertainment. Why are they an open world? Just ‘cause…like Just Cause. Freedom to go about and do anything isn’t all that appealing when the sandbox is made up of endlessly copy-pasted landscapes and settlements populated by animatronic mannequins from the Uncanny Valley. Elden Ring, somehow, avoids this to an amazing degree and implies, once again, that FromSoft put a lot of love and effort into the open world they created in ways that most Western game studios regularly fail at achieving.

The size of The Lands Between, the game’s setting, is daunting and, yes, there are plenty of large fields of grass and shrubbery but there is always something around the next corner. While Assassin’s Creed will make you go to a checkpoint only to clutter the map with every side activity, store, and item pick-up – Elden Ring respects your intelligence (and curiosity) enough to just let you roam and discover things on your own. It brings back memories of playing Skyrim in its earlier hours before having to deal with numerous non-player characters who share the same seven or so voice actors between them all. Well, that and the endlessly copy-pasted dungeons and sidequests. Even in my second and third playthroughs, I was finding new things that I overlooked the first time around and in a way FromSoft’s other titles haven’t been able to do – it’s not just finding a hidden path, but having a different experience altogether.


I know the pieces fit
‘Cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame
It doesn’t mean I don’t desire to
Point the finger, blame the other
Watch the temple topple over
To bring the pieces back together
Rediscover communication

A big reason why Bloodborne and Sekiro are my two favorite Soulsborne titles by FromSoft is, in fact, their settings. The latter is a historical fantasy taking place after the Sengoku period in feudal Japan, steeped in Shinto folklore and Buddhist philosophy, while the former expertly blends Gothic and Lovecraftian horror with a Victorian steampunk atmosphere. They’re both worlds I want to go back to frequently, whereas I can now only tolerate places like Lordran, Drangleic, or Lothric due to everything they act as a vehicle for. So, it’s a good thing The Lands In Between is as interesting as it is vast, especially when one is expected to play this game for 100+ hours.

Both the major and minor regions are varied enough in their topography and atmosphere to differentiate themselves from one another. Even if the Consecrated Snowfield and Mountaintops of the Giants are similarly ice-covered landscapes, the former feels like trying to navigate through a blinding white snowstorm of vast tundra while the other evokes an equitable sense of acrophobia (i.e. fear of heights) and agoraphobia (i.e. fear of open spaces) – the latter’s vastness is appropriate, acting as a prelude to the game’s penultimate section. That penultimate section of the game, Crumbling Farum Azula, might easily be one of my favorite areas within a FromSoft Soulsborne title if only for the audacity in visual presentation. It is a place that is, somehow, both seemingly stuck in time while surrounded by dozens of impossible tornadoes, where its inhabitants echo their surroundings; they’re still alive while breaking apart, with the towers of swirling wind surrounding them slowly stripping away their flesh.

Other regions have their own charm in one way or another. Limgrave, though a typical fantasy adventure landscape, nonetheless makes for a great introductory area while providing some beautiful vistas engulfed by storms and torrential rain. The Atlus Plateau, in comparison, feels like an idyllic version of Limgrave but – as you explore – it becomes apparent everything within the place is hiding something. The region’s enclosed valley is swarming with tentacle-faced giants whose spewed bile can bring death, in the form of sudden arboreal impalement, and there’s a scenic village of windmills north of that valley wherein morbid festivities evocative of Midsommar take place. The battle-scarred yet majestic capital city of Lyndell itself lies atop a labyrinth of cursed individuals, with deformed bodies covered in numerous abnormal horn growths, as well as the massive grave of a single tribe whose extreme punishment seems based on a poorly-defined transgression. I could honestly go on for ages about Caelid, which somehow applies body horror to the geography of all things, while I can’t say much about Mt. Gelmir except the Volcano Manor is an interesting enough area that makes it worthwhile. But I’ve gone on long enough and moved onto specific locations of note like checkpoints and dungeons…

The nearly identical architecture of the churches, catacombs, and venerated tombs didn’t bother me much – it lends a sense of environmental cohesion and gives you a sense of just how ubiquitous the Golden Order was as a system. Plus, some of the latter two did offer some amusing navigational puzzles. That said, I’m less enthused by how many boss fights in this game are either recycled or regular enemies glorified with their health bar taking up the bottom of the screen than floating above their heads. This has happened in the Dark Souls series but, as no installment was as large in scope nor as long, they were never as frequent and all the more noticeable now as a result.


The poetry that comes
From the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it
Finding beauty in the dissonance

However, it’d be remiss not to bring up what FromSoft has improved upon, with this iteration of their Soulsborne formula and it, for me, was the cast and their characterization. It felt…weird to even write that because, as I had stated in an older piece of mine, the characters in the Dark Souls series and Bloodborne were often perfunctory. They served their purpose and would, more often than not, die horribly – sometimes by your hand – but it was rare to become so attached to them, as people, that the act of killing them wasn’t a painful one when done simply out of morbid curiosity. But, in Elden Ring, that’s not the case. I cannot bring myself to harm a single member of the cast and it’s quite painful when forced to do so. Could you bring yourself to brutally kill Pastor Miriel (a.k.a. “Turtle Pope”, pictured above)? If you could, somehow, you’re just a goddamn monster and I’ll hate you until I die. Don’t even get me started on Rya, Millicent, or Nepheli Loux’s subplots, you fucking bloodthirsty beast…

But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given how Sekiro was FromSoft’s attempt at creating a more straightforward narrative with well-defined characters you connected with emotionally. What’s more surprising is that, far from just being a marketing gimmick, you can definitely see George R.R. Martin’s creative fingerprints all over the world-building and the dynamics of a feuding family of pseudo-deities who (save for one, the pale sheep of this ebony flock) all wish to assert their will upon the world regardless of the unmitigated suffering it may cause. Now you might wonder, given this is the man behind A Song of Ice & Fire/Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon, if there is tasteless shock value material like rape and incest involved. To answer that unpleasant question (which I rhetorically asked myself): yes, it most certainly is, and adds in necrophilia – yet, somehow, they make it even weirder than those acts usually are by themselves.

Why?

‘Cause Japan. ‘Cause Nippon. ‘Cause Land of the motherfucking Rising Sun, er, son!


There was a time that the pieces fit
But I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering
Strangled by our coveting

Okay, okay – I’m being facetious. A bit.

In the aforementioned older piece of mine, I argued that part of what made the Western-style high fantasy setting work is due to being filtered through the disparate cultural sensibilities of a Japanese development team. The whole Medievalesque Western Fantasy aesthetic was getting long in the tooth by Dark Souls 3  but – partly thanks to the new setting and GRRM’s contribution to it – the developers managed to make it work at least one more time. But, sooner than later, FromSoft needs to drop such aesthetics and look elsewhere. The world’s a pretty big place with numerous mythologies to borrow from that aren’t from Europe or Scandinavia, actually, and I’d rather see a Mayan/Aztec- or Hindu-themed Soulsborne title than more of this overplayed Tolkien variant shit.

I’ve gone on long enough with this section, so let’s wrap it up with the next…

Bronze Metal Winner

You may’ve noticed how, several paragraphs ago, I mentioned how Bloodborne and Sekiro are my first and second favorite Soulsborne titles which – when accompanied by this section’s title – means Elden Ring is easily my third. The thing is, though, that I’ve put more time into it than Bloodborne and Sekiro combined. Maybe even all of Dark Souls as well. The sum total of my three playthroughs of the game is 868 hours (hey look, a numerical palindrome!). Yet, despite that, I still can’t put it above Bloodborne or Sekiro, and bear with me as I explain why.

As good as the game is as an open-world title, I’d even say the best in years, there’s still…too much of it. Upon hearing there is going to be an upcoming DLC, Shadow of the Erdtree, I couldn’t help but dread the idea of playing it. Within all three of my playthroughs, there was always a point where I just wanted the game to end already. I tried to be a completionist – to fight every boss and collect every item – but I just stopped caring enough to do so and finished as soon as humanly possible. This isn’t something I ever felt with other FromSoft Soulsborne titles, as I was compelled to finish everything before reaching the ultimate climax. A good ludic experience, for me, is one that one cannot separate from it without great difficulty (“Okay, just one more hour…”). To want to stop playing is not a good sign.

But, at the same time, I did spend hundreds of hours playing this game nonetheless but I eventually realized why (get ready for another callback): I’ve had that experience with Skyrim. Multiple times (again, I did tell you to bear with me).


I’ve done the math enough to know
The dangers of our second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow
And strengthen our communication

I’ve never finished the main questline of Skyrim nor am particularly bothered to ever do so. It’s a boring story with boring characters playing out boring events, and everything that is interesting about the game happens outside of it. You can’t help but feel the joy and excitement of discovery as you go in a random direction, purely out of curiosity, to see what happens. Eventually, once you’ve reached every corner of the map – after tens of hours of gameplay – you just give up. There is no more to discover, nothing interesting left to happen, and you move on to something else.

However, weeks or months down the line, you get that urge to play Skyrim again. You’re not entirely sure why, for most of the content eventually bleeds together due to its rote and interchangeable nature, but you must’ve played it that much for some reason…right? I mean, you can recollect those moments punctuated in that blur. Remember how you’re sent skyward for miles, rather perplexingly, after a troll clobbers you overhead? That glitch was fuckin’ hilarious! Then, you’re lured and lulled back in…

The ultimate difference between Elden Ring and Skyrim, when it comes to this phenomenon, is that the former has managed to surpass the latter in making the Sunk Cost Fallacy actually work. Skyrim exposes too much of itself too early, rendering much of the main questline almost entirely optional, and giving you no reason to finish it despite the insistence to do so by the game itself. Whereas Elden Ring, wisely going for the slow-burn approach, knows when to set up enough speedbumps and roadblocks with a deft hand to keep the pacing going and – as to be expected by FromSoft – to entice you enough to explore further and eventually finish the game entirely.

That is most certainly an improvement over Skyrim, especially since the world it creates is a lot more memorable with lore as intriguing as it is cryptic. Yet when I brought it up – many, many paragraphs ago – that each playthrough felt like an entirely different experience, part of me wondered upon my third (and now currently fourth) playthrough if that’s only because so many of this world’s dungeons and boss battles are essentially recycled assets with slight reconfigurations akin to (fittingly) the Chalice Dungeons of Bloodborne. I eventually realized, save for a few occasions, I often forgot which dungeon had which boss and even the level layout. I still stand by what I said about how it adds cohesiveness to the world-building, and the occasionally amusing navigational puzzles, but it’d be dishonest to not see it as a flaw. My memory, much like with Skyrim, filtered it out due to their similarities and makes it feel, like far too many other open-world titles, heavily padded as a result.


Cold silence has a tendency
To atrophy any
Sense of compassion
Between supposed lovers

Ultimately, my point is that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing – and Elden Ring is an example of that. But, importantly, it’s also more of too much of a good thing than Skyrim could ever dream of. There has to be a reason, despite every playthrough leaving me exhausted, I still managed to gravitate towards starting another playthrough. The game is obviously doing something right yet, at the same time, it’s also evidence that the open-world format in videogames is not a sustainable experience. Even the people at FromSoftware, who do level design and world-building better than many others in the industry, still cannot perfect the open-world format. For all our feeble attempts to create this virtual world so immersive that it feels like an entirely different life – our level of tech, as advanced as it is, still can’t be so immersive that we could truly lose ourselves in the game.

I’m not done with Soulsborne titles, as overexposed as they’ve become in recent years, given I do still want to write about Blasphemous and am eagerly awaiting its sequel – among plenty of other entries in the Soulsborne genre (sub-genre?) – but I’m definitely done with open-world games. As much as I’m sure Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild or Tears of the Kingdom may be enjoyable as open-world games, especially with their emphasis on delightful art style over high-fidelity graphics, I doubt I can enjoy them fully without – other than owning a Nintendo Switch (which I currently do not) – an indeterminate sabbatical from open-world titles.

Those who seem tired of Soulsborne titles the most, quite understandably, are the developers of FromSoft itself. I can’t blame them and wanting to go back to a franchise that preceded Demon’s Souls – by twelve years – with Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon. I mean, who wouldn’t get sick of making iterations of a certain gameplay model for almost a decade and a half? You can only do so much with one thing before exhaustion sets in and, eventually, familiarity will breed contempt.

You need to mix it up, just a little, and – let’s be honest – who doesn’t love giant mechs? All these colossal humanoid tanks pew-pewing each other into oblivion? I mean, you can’t but I’d be either highly skeptical of such a claim or pity you for being a soulless (PUN INTENDED, AGAIN!!!) husk of a human being. How can all those “kablams”, “kablooies”, and “badooms” not cause this sense of primal excitement? I know I certainly feel it! The moment I get my hands on Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon, I’ll put everything in my life aside to play it from beginning to end – even if it kills me. All while listening to Pearl Jam’s “Do the Evolution” on an infinite loop, of course…

I’m at peace
I’m the man
Buying stocks
On the day of the crash
On the loose
I’m a truck
All them rolling hills
I’ll flatten ’em out!


Thankfully, the next piece I’ll post – a comparative review of the videogames High On Life and Scorn – won’t appear months from now but next week. I’ve already finished it, actually, around December of last year but wanted to wait until after I wrote about Elden Ring. I could’ve done so before, I’ll admit, but there’s a joke in there that wouldn’t work otherwise if I did. That’s silly, I know, yet I don’t care – it just felt…right.

You’ll see, next time – and thanks for reading!

MCU Catch-Up (Part 2): SHANG-CHI, HAWKEYE, and ETERNALS

I know last time I said this would be out in a week but, instead, it’s been…five months?!?!?!

There’re reasons for that, outside of writer’s block: I’ve been dealing with a health issue, which I won’t go into detail about as it’s too personal, but that alone messed with my head and – no thanks to the usual bullshit that comes with changing doctors and medical insurance – I went without anti-depressants for too long and that, obviously, made things worse.

Thankfully, I’m somewhat better now – I still haven’t found a much-needed therapist – and finally got past my creative blockage.

So, yeah, hope you enjoy this piece, and – even if you don’t – thanks for giving it a look!


SHANG-CHI & THE LEGEND OF THE TEN RINGS

There’s nothing surprising, in the least, that Shang-Chi manages to have some of the better action scenes of any MCU installment.

When it comes to martial arts in cinema – the choreography is as important as the staging. You can’t just half-ass it and cover it up with a lot of CGI either, because you need incredibly physical performers that can make their engagement in combat seem as natural and effortless to them as breathing or blinking. Each movement must feel fluid, as if purely instinctual, and anything else comes off as stiff and mechanical. It’s all essential.

It’s not perfect, for nothing is truly capable of such, but – as far as the MCU goes – it’s gotten closer to it than most. There are those niggles with plot contrivances and occasional holes, the hat-on-a-hat comic relief (I really wish Ben Kingsley was just a cameo), and a third act that’s a bit of a convoluted CGI clusterfuck – but they’re far more tolerable here than other MCU films. There’re conventions common across the MCU, such as the obligatory love interests, that get on my nerves because they rarely serve any other purpose within the movie they appear in and even rarer they’ll make a return. While I wouldn’t call Shang-Chi “subversive”, they do something unexpectedly creative enough with the tropes of a staid formula that’s oddly refreshing.

Katy/Ruiwen (Awkwafina), for example, is initially framed as a seemingly useless comic-relief sidekick but…she’s not.

Outside her integral role in the final battle with a CGI Cthulhu monster (who’s introduced a little too late), she’s actually the one who pushes an otherwise avoidant titular protagonist (Simu Liu) to directly deal with their situation and really the only person he can confide in about his unusual and utterly fucked-up backstory. She is, in fact, the love interest – but that’s not established until the story’s epilogue. It’s not stated in dialogue but with a small gesture where her and Shang-Chi’s hands clasp around each other. Though it is foreshadowed when one of Katy’s relatives suggests dating Shang-Chi, it is quickly dismissed because, at this point, neither of them see each other as romantic partners but very good friends. Like, of all the romances in the MCU, this is easily the most verisimilitudinous. They started as friends, went through turmoil, and it brought them closer together like many couples in reality. I’d like to see more of that in the MCU instead of all that other tepid shit.

It would be remiss, of course, to not bring up the stand-out performance by a fantastic actor: Tony Leung as Zu Wenwu. I’d go as far as to argue that he’s easily the best villain within the MCU, next to Wilson Fisk and Thanos – they’re layered and empathetic at times but we’re kept aware what they’re doing is still wrong. Like Fisk, he is partly motivated by love. Like Thanos, he’s an abusive father who rationalizes his mistreatment as a form of “building character” or protecting his children.

Wenwu is a particularly interesting case because his comicbook counterpart – The Mandarin – is a product of orientalism and cultural appropriation. Asking Katy for her Chinese name, in a weird way, is about how many notable personalities from China and associated territories use an English first name professionally. I mean, Tony Leung was not named “Tony” – it was Chiu-wai. Much like how Chan Kong-sang became “Jackie Chan” or Li Lianjie became “Jet Li.” It’s a practice that, more or less, is done for the sake of insensitive, overly-entitled Anglophones. English-speakers who, from my experience as such, are often so linguistically lazy that they’ll not bother learning how to pronounce non-English words and names or become childishly petulant when suggested they perhaps should. As Leung said, names are important – and it’s insulting to refer to a man as just being “Oriental”. Well, that or common Chinese cuisine…

With all that said, does that mean Shang-Chi is a good martial arts film than simply a superhero movie with elements of martial arts? Well, like so much of the MCU, it’s the latter. It never reaches the heights of (say) Hero, Tom-Yum-Goong, City of Violence, or even Master of the Flying Guillotine but there’s nothing wrong with that either. Not every martial arts film needs to be a masterpiece, but I wish Disney/Marvel leaned into it mainly being a martial arts film, rather than being another “superhero movie” that lifts tropes and aesthetics from other genres. What made Logan one of the best comicbook adaptations, at least in my opinion, is that it wasn’t a “superhero movie” – it was a neo-western akin to a film like No Country for Old Men or televised series like Breaking Bad. Why not do the same for, perhaps, the sequel to Shang-Chi? We can only hope!

Our next entry, however, comes much closer to achieving such…

HAWKEYE

Apologies, but I need to get this off my chest: I don’t like Clint Barton, both in the comics and MCU. At all. He’s just so…boring, to me.

If you noticed, I said “Clint Barton” and not “Hawkeye”, and there’s a reason for that: I adore Kate Bishop. It’s even better that, when compared to a dull Jeremy Renner, she’s played by an energetic Hailee Steinfeld who manages to make clumsiness ridiculously adorable. Although to be fair, I actually like Clint/Renner in his role here and there’re plenty of reasons for that.

It’s not really a superhero story when considering that the two main leads don’t really partake in the usual costumed crime-fighting antics, nor does the situation involve typical villainous machinations – its scale, much to my delight, is more grounded and personal than the rest of the MCU. It’s more like a Shane Black action-comedy that takes plenty of notes from Die Hard, including being set during Christmas while having nothing to do with the holiday – but, hey, at least New York has snow!

There’s obviously that element of Clint passing the torch to Kate, who is as rich as she is an utter fuck-up, but the inciting incident is almost farcical. Clint is in town to see a terrible (and hilarious) Broadway musical about Steve “Captain America” Rogers and the Battle of New York from The Avengers. Which, like a soldier coming back from Afghanistan and watching Black Hawk Down, gives him post-traumatic flashbacks (more on that, in a bit!). Kate, expelled from her university for an ill-conceived experiment/prank, crashes a secret auction involving the Ronin costume – only to steal it, then wear it, and finally get caught on camera. Given Clint’s worldwide mass murder tour, many disgruntled criminals come out of the woodwork to seek vengeance, including the enigmatic and eclectic Echo (Alaqua Cox) as well as Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh, i.e. the best part of Black Widow).

Of the many (and I do mean many) issues I had with Endgame as a film, the plot point involving Clint going on an indiscriminate rampage under the alias of “Ronin” is among the worst. You’d think, with the five-year time gap and what had happened over those years, he’d have a noticeable change in personality but he just…doesn’t. In fact, his old teammates are disturbingly willing to forgive and involve him in a time-traveling heist, though he could easily become a liability and sabotage their whole endeavor. Hell, they don’t even consider locking him up for the psychotic rampage alone. The point is that there’s no sense of consequence for those actions and, akin to WandaVision, feels aggravatingly counter-productive. In fact, it felt downright pointless. Though I’d have preferred to have it happen in the film, the showrunners of Hawkeye actually address this (to a degree).

For whatever reason, I seem to be one of the only people who liked the series and, admittedly, I’m confused by that. In terms of quality, it’s far more consistent than the other MCU series like WandaVision or Loki – it’s not bifurcated by a useless B-plot nor do the episodes feel as if they last longer than necessary. It has a nice sense of momentum where every episode is eventful, rather than having an entire episode based around an info dump or contrived battle, though it starts to spin too many plates by the end and rush significant character arcs. As much as I love Vincent D’Onofrio as Wilson Fisk, he was introduced too late in the story – a similar issue Book of Boba Fett had with Cad Bane – and not particularly necessary to make the narrative work. At least, unlike Cad Bane and Book of Boba Fett, he has a neat fight with Kate. 

Along with Kate’s clumsiness being an endearing trait, the showrunners manage to make Clint interesting as a person by dealing with his various mental and physical traumas caused by superheroics. Which, given how it was completely absent with Natasha Romanova in Black Widow, is refreshing to see in an MCU installment. We all know these stories take place in a heightened reality but it can help when reality (especially in live-action entertainment) is acknowledged, from time to time, and we’re reminded that no normal person could possibly live through such events and, if they did, couldn’t ever recover from it. His hearing loss nicely parallels Echo’s own condition along with the revenge subplot and, even better, the reason for his hearing loss is shown and not simply told. We’re given but a brief montage of moments from the previous films, being knocked around by so many goddamn explosions – it makes perfect sense without any utterance of an explanation. He might be a highly trained government assassin but he’s still a normal human being, and there’s nothing you can do against inevitable physical entropy.

There are a lot of other things I like, especially the Central Park LARPers as well as Clint and Kate just hanging out celebrating Christmas in a safe house, but it ultimately comes down to how it scales back and treats the characters like people. None of the spectacle ever overrides the very human qualities of the cast the way so many MCU films have and, unfortunately, that’s the opposite case with the next entry.

I’ll never comprehend how anyone could’ve possibly enjoyed the film as its very existence is baffling…

ETERNALS

It’s better to ask “why is Eternals?” than “what is Eternals?” Because what Eternals is, as a cinematic narrative, is practically impossible to describe and it’s not worth such consideration unless you already had a personal connection with the source material. If I sound bitter, it’s because I am, for having sat through the entire film and rarely finding a moment of joy.

Admittedly, I’m biased as I’ve always been fond of Jack Kirby’s New Gods, and Eternals felt like a cheap knock-off with the stench of Erich von Däniken attached. Y’see, Däniken is a racist piece of shit and it’s why so many of his “ancient astronaut (totally dubious and unfalsifiable) theories” had aliens who were somehow responsible for the pyramids of Egypt, the Moai statues of Easter Island, or literally any place that both isn’t in Europe and is not Stonehenge. It’s why we have cultural detritus like Ancient Aliens around with a bunch of arrogant, ignorant honky motherfuckers being reductive about and wildly misinterpreting cultures none of them actually understand.

I know I’m being digressive, but I’ve never come across a script as unengaging, over-bloated, and confused as the one for Eternals. It wants to be too many things at once, with too many bland characters, and too much dull exposition for the half-baked mythos. Thinking and writing about it can be painful, at times.

I don’t mind expounding on what the Celestials do, a bit, given their background presence in the MCU but the filmmakers don’t have their priorities in proper order as the monolithic pseudo-deities are treated with more importance than anything else in the narrative. For example; I’d like to know who Sersi (Gemma Chan), Ikaris (Richard Madden), or Sprite (Lia McHugh) are as people but you really can’t when they also have to share screentime with another eight or so characters – which could easily be remedied by cutting out some of them, as their involvement is negligible at best and pointless at worst.

So much of the film are these characters meeting up with one another, constantly bringing up how they’re “family”, which is as unbearable as it was in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, and the threat they need to deal with, as though the audience must be constantly reminded like easily distracted children. They never act like a familial unit, but a bunch of random people who don’t really like each other, so these proclamations made about their relationship are completely hollow and nakedly manipulative. ‘Cause, y’see, they have to be family because they said they were family! It’s like that bit in Futurama where the Robot Devil chastised an opera because the characters were outright stating how they felt and, yes, it does make me as angry as it did him. I want characters defined by what they do and not simply what they say.

You can’t even enjoy the action sequences because every fight feels like it belongs in a videogame. Its humanoid characters are covered in special effects while battling space dinosaurs that never look organic as much as motile plastic – may as well just show a child smacking action figures together while going “BOOM!” and “POW!” and “WOOSH!” Shang-Chi’s martial arts felt naturalistic because, save for the third act, we mostly have flesh-and-blood people in combat with little use of CGI – there’s a sense of impact to all those punches and kicks.

Is there anything I could compliment? Well, yeah, surprisingly. Kingo’s (Kumail Nanjiani) reappearance in the present day, portraying him as a Bollywood actor shooting an elaborate musical scene, is easily the most lively scene and makes you want to watch that movie-within-a-movie instead of the actual movie. Nanjiani’s presence is also what makes the boring shit afterward more tolerable, until he just leaves the film right before the climax, ‘cause reasons (although, to be honest, that’s every character’s motivation: ‘cause reasons).

The filmmakers, despite the abominable script, know how to make a film look good outside of the CGI; the cinematography does a phenomenal job of capturing landscapes that lends them a level of majesty equal to their grand scale. Despite the inconsistent color-grading, you always know what is happening on-screen due to otherwise good lighting and shot composition. It is, on a purely technical level, well-made. The problem, however, is none of that really matters. It cannot improve or elevate the material, to salvage the unsalvagable.

Much like Erich von Däniken and the insufferable, intellectually lazy UFOlogists he’s inspired, I never want to hear about or speak of Eternals ever again. I want it to go the way of Inhumans, where it gets swept under the rug and only referenced offhanded (and underhandedly) in other installments without any fanfare whatsoever. It certainly doesn’t deserve a sequel because, even though there’s plenty to build off of, the characters were so devoid of personality and the mythos so poorly conceived that I just don’t give a shit. If the film bothered to make me care about the cast first and foremost, especially without their convoluted origin story, then I’d feel more charitable about seeing a follow-up that could improve upon its other issues.

But, again, that’s not going to happen – I refuse to suffer this foolishness any further under the naive presumption the sequel will fix everything…


…Okay, that did end on a very negative note.

However, I can promise that won’t be the case next time – that’s right, I’m going to do another set of MCU mini-reviews! It’s been a while since the first one and other installments came out since then, so it only made sense to make a third set of mini-reviews. If I manage to see Thor: Love & Thunder in theaters, maybe there’ll be a fourth about it and Ms. Marvel soon after.

Sooner than several months and more within a week or two, of course (hopefully)!

MCU Catch-Up (Part 1): On LOKI, BLACK WIDOW, and WHAT IF…?

Hey there, everyone – I’m back!

Finally got a new laptop (and eventually figured it out, kinda) and have a keyboard to properly write, ’cause my phone’s touchscreen hates me. Originally, prior to my computer troubles, I was planning on doing separate reviews for each Marvel Cinematic Universe series on Disney+ and the films. Except, much like The Falcon & Winter Soldier, I can’t really say enough about any of them alone for an entire piece.

However, I can as mini-reviews! In two sets, actually, and here’s the first…


LOKI

After WandaVision and The Falcon & Winter Soldier, having a series with the strengths of both while lacking the weaknesses of either – well, mostly – was a nice development. Much like WandaVision, it’s partly a character deconstruction of the titular individual but also functions as an adventure akin to The Falcon & Winter Soldier, albeit one of time-travel and parallel timelines than international intrigue and espionage.

The antics with the space-time continuum are far more interesting and meaningful here than in Endgame, as it rarely ever diverts attention away from the protagonist for the sake of plot contrivance and fan service. I mean, why would they, when he’s played by Tom Hiddleston? He’s consistently been my favorite thing about the MCU because, even in something badly-written, he puts a level of dedication into portraying the character that makes him relatable and – despite his godhood – feel incredibly human.

There’s actually very little for me to condemn except for how both Gugu Mbatha-Raw and Wunmi Mosaku are essentially playing the same character. The only real difference between them is how they respond to the reveal of the Time Variance Authority’s true nature, but ultimately unnecessary and does little more than pad out the runtime. It’s like Monica Rambeau, Jimmy Wood, and Darcy Lewis in WandaVision all over again. That final episode, however? I’ve never loved and hated something so much simultaneously. It is both an info dump explaining what’s been going on in this series while also another in-house ad for subsequent installments of the MCU and…stop it, Disney. Fucking stop it.

Anyway, what made all that tolerable is Jonathan Majors, who delivers the aforementioned info dump, for his performance is so expressive that he manages to make convoluted and interminable exposition less arduous to endure. I shouldn’t be surprised by this given his role in Lovecraft Country, where he seemed to channel the spirit of Gil ScottHeron (now that is a biopic I want to see!), with his versatility proven here by feeling like a completely different person to Atticus Freeman. But, more importantly, does this properly stick to landing by the end unlike WandaVision and The Falcon & Winter Soldier? The final scenes actually live up to all that came before, moreso given it isn’t resolved with some big battle (though there is a brief skirmish), and the cliffhanger is enough to make me look forward to the next season.

Seriously, I’m eagerly awaiting it. The next entry? Not so much – I dreaded it.

BLACK WIDOW

Like Black Panther before it, Black Widow feels like the sequel to a nonexistent previous film and suffers greatly for it. The “Budapest Mission” that’s been occasionally referenced in other films should’ve been enough by itself (especially as a prequel) but, for whatever bizarre reason conceived by Disney, we got a film that bewilderingly came out well after Endgame but takes place between Civil War and Infinity War. You could blame it on all the pandemic-based delays but that’s just an excuse when considering this: shouldn’t there have been two Black Widow installments already? One about the “Budapest Mission” and the sequel? And, if we were only getting one of them, why choose the latter?

Bringing up Black Panther once more; that film was full of characters standing around talking about past events which we almost never see, we’re just told about them (‘cause of course), and its aggravating to have so much of the runtime spent on it instead of making the narrative more self-contained and eventful in its own right. Black Widow does the same goddamn thing, and it’s significantly worse for one reason.

Y’see, Taskmaster is the film’s secondary antagonist and there’s a big reveal about their identity, but it doesn’t matter because there’s no set-up and the pay-off would’ve only worked if…we had a previous installment about the “Budapest Mission” to properly introduce and develop them. The filmmakers obviously want us to care about this reveal but, sorry, that’s impossible for a person who has only been mentioned a few times and seen once in a flashback to the nonexistent previous (and likely better) film. It’s a perplexing creative decision, on so many levels, and makes me wonder how it ever got past the pre-production phase.

Although it’s not totally worthless, as long as you just concentrate on all the interactions between Natasha Romanova (Scarlett Johansson) and the surrogate family she formed with Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), Alexi “Red Guardian” Shostakov (David Harbour), and Melina Vostokova (Rachel Weisz). The dialogue between them is all about characterization with as little exposition as possible, refreshing given the MCU formula’s tell-over-show approach, and it’s impressive how the script is able to capture the Russian mindset of these people. There’s that fatalistic edge in how they perceive and connect with the world around them including a cynical and sarcastic sense of humor, making the film’s comedy more dark than quippy, that’s incredibly amusing to see play out. They’re weirdly functional as a familial unit despite their outwardly dysfunctional behavior and the adversarial friction between each other is simply accepted as a dynamic for catharsis and reconciliation. If misery loves company, then Russians worship misery’s company.

It’s unfortunate, then, that such pleasant moments are sandwiched between dull action sequences with unremarkable choreography and further accentuates an issue I’ve always had with MCU Natasha: she comes off as more invulnerable than Captain America, a superhuman soldier that nonetheless takes a notable amount of damage which leaves a mark. Natasha can fall several floors, hit a bunch of construction scaffolding along the way, and get up with little more than a limp that goes away in minutes. She breaks her nose on a desk and then resets it, wherein the wounds just disappear. She gets into a goddamn mid-air battle straight from Bayonetta, which would work in a comicbook or cartoon or videogame but simply breaks suspension of disbelief in a live-action film. Moreso when it’s clearly established within the setting she’s a normal, albeit expertly-trained, human being. Maybe I would’ve cared about her or felt excited about anything she does if they actually treated her like that…

Now, let’s move on to something very different.

WHAT IF…?

I love anthologies. Can’t get enough of ‘em. Wish there were more – many, many more.

What If…?, loosely based on the comicbook of the same name, is certainly one of those but it suffers from inconsistent quality as well as self-limited by its own premise. There’re some fantastic episodes – “What If… Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?” is easily my favorite, followed by “What If… Killmonger Rescued Tony Stark?” – and others that’re amusing, like T’Challa (the late, great Chadwick Boseman) as Star-Lord or Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) as Captain America (“Captain Britain”?) or the globally catastrophic frat party Thor (Chris Hemsworth) throws on Earth, but it’s hard to feel as much enthusiasm for the others. I can’t help but blame this on the fact the setting of each story is just an iteration of the MCU than an entirely separate reality, which is what the comics did. The MCU is relatively young, compared to that of the mainline 616 (a clusterfuck of canon like all superhero comics), and there’re only so many scenarios you can use before the creative well runs dry.

It’s rather puzzling when Loki brings up Variants and they differ greatly from the Loki we’re familiar with – including one who resembles Abomination from The Incredible Hulk, a Gran Prix racer, and even an alligator (all without explanation as to why,  thankfully) – but there’s nothing like that in What If…? I suppose, given it is the first season, they were playing it safe and are leaving their more ambitious material for the next – but I’m annoyed there’s still an aversion to risk at this point, whatsoever. Disney could lose fifty million and it wouldn’t matter. It’s a drop in a bucket worth two hundred and four billion dollars. At least Werner Bros. has been redirecting their DC properties allowing more creative freedom for filmmakers, forsaking the shared universe concept, and telling self-contained stories.

What basically damned the season was extending the eighth episode – “What If…Ultron Won?” – into a two-parter when it worked well enough on its own. The destructiveness on display is downright creative, like Ultron (Ross Marquand) enlarging his head to cosmic proportions and biting down on a solar system as if it were a sandwich, and could’ve ended on a dark note similar to the Dr. Strange episode. If it had to extend into another episode, I’d of just preferred Ultron and Uatu the Watcher (Jeffrey Wright) both going Super-Saiyan while battling across alternate realities – perhaps teasing the audience with what’ll be seen in the next season – but instead decides to be a team-up with all the previous episodes’ protagonists (and a Gamora Variant, voiced by Cynthia Williams, that hadn’t appeared until the finale), which was a terrible idea. Evil Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) should not have been given a redemption arc of any kind, as it lessens the impact of that episode’s bleaker-than-bleak ending, and a potential sequel to Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) and his machinations are now impossible due to the outcome of a battle between a god-like Ultron and the terribly-named Guardians of the Multiverse (um, why not use “The Exiles”? A team made up of multiversal Variants?). None of them should be able to stand any chance against the omni-genocidal robot with all six Infinity Stones, either on their own or as a group, but they’re able to anyway ‘cause of both literal plot armor and deus ex machina.

There’s obviously a lot of untapped potential in the show and am happy it’s getting another season like Loki, but my expectations for it are lower. The talent is definitely there; the animation, even if off-putting at first, quickly grows on you and the voice-acting, save for some bad line readings here and there, is pretty good. Also, despite the contrivances in some episodes – like Ultron bifurcating Thanos effortlessly even when possessing five of the six Infinity Stones – I’m willing to forgive that when it’s to indulge further in the oddity or ambition of an episode’s premise.

I hope for the best yet am still expecting the worst – it’s far less disappointing that way…


Don’t worry, the next set will be less harshly critical (kinda) and, thankfully, you won’t need to wait a month (or three, or six…) – it’ll just be a week!

I’m making it a personal (for there is nothing professional about me) goal to post my work on a weekly basis, starting with the next set of mini-reviews and, after that, my Non-Fan Review of The Clone Wars and an essay on the world-building of Disco Elysium.

See y’all then!

[Edited 4/23/22, for grammatical correction]

Pop Culture Heresy: Big Events & Canon/Continuity


I’m still working on my review of The Clone Wars, as well as starting another about Loki, but I finished one of my two planned op-eds about my least favorite aspects of comicbooks.

Hope you enjoy! Or, if you hated it, thanks for taking a look!


At times, I find my ever-lengthening backlog of comics incredibly discouraging and wonder if, perhaps, I should swear off them entirely or at least take an extended break. I don’t think I ever can though – whether its superheroes, creator-owned material, or manga – as there’s just so much to appreciate in the medium and want to show support. Still, the industry build upon it makes that extremely difficult.

There’re several reasons but, for now, let’s stick with superhero comics and two particularly egregious bugbears of mine in relation to them: Big Events and Canon/Continuity.

I’m not even sure why they’re called “Big Events” anymore because they’re commonplace to the point they’re just…events. They’re not special these days and, year after year, I find out about another one via social osmosis and wonder if anyone else actually asked for this or if the heads of the industry are erroneously mistaking the sensibilities of the audience for their own (it happens more than you’d think) and now we’re stuck with it. Like, did anyone want a sequel to Civil War? ‘Cause I sure as shit didn’t and hated how it got in the way of things I otherwise enjoyed. I would, in fact, love to read a series where there wasn’t some tie-in to a Big Event or paid the kind of lip-service to past canon/continuity that, were it done in live-action entertainment, would only make sense to use in a long-running soap opera.

Pictured: Jonathan Hickman, trying to make sense of X-Men canon/continuity.

I know no one who considers themselves a fan of superhero comics wants to hear this but, as someone who has read and absorbed much of the same information as they have, this fetishization with maintaining canon/continuity is why – even as superhero films are becoming incredibly popular worldwide – the uninitiated are still hesitant to pick up a single issue much less an entire series of superhero comics. Trying to memorize and understand 60+ years of publication history and numerous retcons is self-imposed homework that comicbook fans pat themselves on the back for, while most people just want to see stories involving larger-than-life characters performing heroic feats (and, hopefully, with some social commentary).

You’re not researching the timeline of the British Empire and how their colonization affected various regions of the world like India or Hong Kong, but instead a heightened reality of made-up people who do whatever the assigned creative team wants them to do. Like, seriously, why’s that so precious to comicbook fans? I can’t think of another storytelling genre, next to the aforementioned soap operas, that handicaps itself so much paying tribute to an utterly fake history that’s revised constantly anyway. It’s fucking fiction and shouldn’t be treated like a real historical document, when it is meant simply to entertain on some level or another. It’d definitely make discussing comics less frustrating without lore-addicts, as they obsess over canon/continuity to the degree that the story being told is a secondary or even tertiary concern…

Ultimately, the problem comes from hyper-focusing on content while dismissing context. That’s why the same people who now complain about “social justice warriors” (an insult that is, contrarily, complimentary) supposedly taking over comics and making them political will still read X-Men comics, which (until more recently) were about how often in-groups demonize and oppress out-groups, or titles where the villains are millionaire or billionaire businessmen who use charities to cover up their illicit activities and somehow view them as “apolitical.” They’re absolutely taking everything in these comics for granted and reduce them to just stuff happening in a ridiculous alternate reality with superhumans, as opposed to works of Art created by those who had something to say about their society at the time by using those superhumans as symbols or abstract concepts physically incarnate. I can assure you that if you read any of the Golden Age Superman comics, ignoring their politics is either a sign of purposeful ignorance or lacking in Artistic literacy – Clark Kent literally goes around punching corrupt politicians and tormenting abusive factory owners. The fact his arch-nemesis is Lex motherfucking Luthor, a Randian capitalist if there ever was one, should be a sign Superman is a very progressive political figure no matter how much people (e.g. Geoff Johns) attempt to sanitize it.

A totally “apolitical” comic!

The reality is that all Art is political. Perhaps not outwardly, with characters espousing the tenets of an ideology, but the way a story is told is indicative of those creators’ ideology whether or not it was intentional on their part. Nothing is truly “apolitical” and its usage is often more disingenuous than not, for those who claim themselves to be “apolitical” are simply adherents to a status quo that already supports center-right policies. Those who complain about superhero comics (or videogames, or movies, or series, or animation) becoming “too political” are actually complaining about left-wing creators existing at all. These supposedly “apolitical” people are not “saving” superhero comics from anything heinous – they’re neutering and rendering them meaningless, due to their inability to enjoy Art that doesn’t directly pander to their limited sensibilities.

For me, one of the biggest problems in superhero comics is that most current professionals in the industry were, at one point, fans themselves. They continue this focus on “Big Events” as well as canon/continuity that only makes the medium more insular and inaccessible to anyone who isn’t a fan already or, at least, willing to become as dedicated as those fans. When Marvel brings in someone like Ta-Nehisi Coates to write Black Panther or DC hires a slew of Young Adult fiction writers – it’s a godsend, not an aberration. It’s why I’m grateful for the late and great Dwayne McDuffie as a contemporary creator; he was well-aware that superhero comics, as a genre in the medium of sequential storytelling, could appeal to more kinds of people but the tastes of these largely white, cisgender, and heterosexual men (and some women) hinder such a possibility because that audience was seen as “integral” and to be patronized to the remiss of other demographics. The fact that, as a black individual, he’s had to deal with such ignorant complaints about how having too many people of color on a superhero team was, apparently, “pushing an agenda” sometimes makes me feel ashamed of being someone who likes comics and related media.

My confusion towards this attachment to “Big Events” and canon/continuity is quite simple: I think more personal, grounded, and/or wholly self-contained stories in superhero comics tend to be the most interesting. These End-of-the-World scenarios should be an occasional occurrence, with at least *some* years inbetween each, rather than an annual practice that diminishes everything that makes these stories feel special and imaginative.

Another totally “apolitical” comic!

Those panels above? They’re from a great run by Dennis O’Neil and Neal Adams where Hal “Green Lantern” Jordon returns to Earth after an extended trip through the cosmos – only to get a 101 course in social justice by Oliver “Green Arrow” Queen after defending a corrupt landlord against his rightfully angry tenants. Hal, realizing how short-sighted he had been, agrees with help Ollie catch the corrupt landlord red-handed and ends up doing so. However, Hal’s bosses – the Guardians of the Universe – are displeased and chastise him for getting involved in unofficial business via a psychic projection from afar.

Ollie, who holds a healthy disdain for authority figures, counters by accusing them of being aloof and out of touch with the people they’re supposed to keep safe. That, in hyper-focusing on large-scale events over the smaller ones, they don’t see people as much as individuals but statistics. Surprisingly, despite their often stubborn nature, Ollie was able to convince them. One of the Guardians is tasked to go down to earth, in the guise of a human, and…go on a road trip with Hal and Ollie across the United States. All while dealing with and solving contemporary societal ills they come across along the way.

We desperately need a de-escalation when it comes to the stakes in stories like these because, once a city/planet/universe is in danger, there’s little room for further escalation – and that’s already been done in the form of a multiversal conflict. Like, does Batman always need to save all of Gotham from being blown up ’cause reasons? No, he doesn’t. He could be solving various mysteries or stopping criminal activity that does not involve catastrophic destruction to make things exciting.

One of my favorite Batman comics is The Long Halloween, written by Jeph Loeb and illustrated by Tim Sale, that is just him trying to find the perpetrator of a string of murders over a whole year while being assisted/undermined by a Hannibal Lecter-esque Calendar Man. There’s very little in the way of him punching supervillains and their henchmen while using gadgets and thank God for that, ’cause that’s all we’ve gotten from the character over the years in live-action cinematic adaptations. People might ridicule it for being aged and more light-hearted than the annoyingly popular GRIMM UND GRITTY version of the character, but at least the 1960’s Adam West series show him doing more detective work than all the live-action films combined (excluding the one based on the series, of course! Gotta love that bomb scene…).

Ranking de Franquicias: Jungla de Cristal – LAS CRÓNICAS DE AXA 2.0
Imagine this, but with Batman. Seriously.

Honestly, it’s weird how many creatives can’t imagine a scenario for an action film that is both exciting and isn’t apocalyptic. Moreso when one that’s considered the best of its genre, Die Hard, is a perfect example of how a story can be engaging without having ridiculously high stakes. John McClane isn’t saving all of Los Angeles from a doomsday weapon, but hostages in a single building during a violent heist, and I wonder why we can’t get a Batman movie like this. Would it be less exciting if it was just him solving puzzles from The Riddler in order to save a couple dozen people from his various death-traps? In the wrong hands, of course – but why not just try it, to mix things up and set new trends?

A ton of current action cinema is adapted from superhero comics and, unfortunately, they’re adapting the least interesting aspects of superhero comics while barely using any of its better qualities. They don’t have to stop being action movies but they can at least be creative action movies – it’s why I’ll never shut up about the Battle of Titan from Infinity War but still think the final battle in Endgame was steaming dogshit up until the climax.

It’s like the final fight between Neo and Agent Smith in The Matrix Revolutions where the stakes are beyond catastrophic and, in a computer simulation where almost anything is possible, all they do is smash into one another over and over again much in the same way Superman and Zod did in Man of Steel. It doesn’t matter how much destruction you add to these stories – they’re still utterly boring when you don’t put much thought into the actual action taking place on screen beyond making it “feel big.” But, if every story has to be epic, it simply means none of them are epic for something that’s truly epic should stand out from other narratives in terms of scope.

Did you know Avengers' shawarma scene was shot after the film's premiere,  partially spoiled by Robert Downey Jr? | Hollywood - Hindustan Times
More of this, please! DO IT, YOU COWARDS!!!

That’s not possible when several similar and/or related works all aim too high far too early on and stick with that as the baseline, with the lack of contrasting stories that are more grounded and personal exacerbating that problem. You can’t have proper pay-off without set-up. A constant stream of epics are basically trying to be pay-offs with barely any set-up and practically no build-up – like the superhero comics themselves, there isn’t much breathing room between one epic movie to the next epic movie. Whatever intention they had for a massive pay-off only feels hollow, because it just happens and gets resolved in two or so hours with no lasting effect afterwards. There isn’t even a way to differentiate between one doomsday weapon from another when, regardless of superficial differences, they essentially function the same way within each plot and may as well all be the same movie.

If I could make any suggestion to those who publish superhero comics: rein it in and go back to basics – uncomplicate this convoluted fictional history, even if it means pressing the reset button, and make stories that are accessible to almost anyone rather than an ever-dwindling niche of diehards. Not simply a retcon that still carries over decades-old warts, but a full-on clean slate. Pure tabula rasa. In fact, that is why the MCU has worked as well as it has even as a shared cinematic setting; they are not burdened by the albatross that is canon/continuity and, in being somewhat recent, manages to make the material more accessible to audiences than any current comics are ever capable of or willing to do.

Are the fanboys going to dislike it? Of course they are but, as should be obvious by now, they don’t derive enjoyment from their chosen media anymore – they can only engage with it by being bitter, needlessly outraged assholes. It’ll never matter how much you pander to them because, almost habitually, they’ll see any reasonable changes as “SJW infiltration” no matter how minor or negligible. They actively obsess about everything they dislike so much that they can’t notice anything they like anymore and, when they do, it’s only done out of spite to “trigger” their perceived opponents. Making any attempt to appeal to them is a waste of time, when other demographics overshadow them in number, and why self-sabotage for the sake of an obnoxiously vocal minority with such rigidly specific and unrealistic demands? You may as well give Homer Simpson carte blanche to dictate how all cars are made…

This is what the fanboys want…and it’s ugly as Sin.

As for the filmmakers who adapt these works? Some of what I said before equally applies here, but it’s mainly showing some restraint and employing a sense of gradual escalation – as opposed to turning the dial to eleven and then breaking it off immediately. Instead of starting off with an entire city being in danger of getting blown up, ’cause reasons, maybe start with any other nefarious activity a villain can do – such as smuggling designer drugs, doing human trafficking, planning a series of bank heists, or committing a political assassination – and up the ante a little with each subsequent installment. Then, once The Avengers-style movie comes along, we can get pay-off by endangering a city and the one after that can become a global crisis…after more installments build up to that. Same goes for the subsequent universal crisis and the multiversal one after that.

I don’t say this simply for myself, as an admirer of comicbook as an Artistic medium, but – much like the late, great Dwayne McDuffie – for those who haven’t had a chance to appreciate it yet. The fact the MCU is as popular as it is, and regardless of my own problems with it, is evidence alone that it’s not the material itself that was unappealing to a larger audience but in how it had been executed. It’s been that way for decades and, despite their adaptations having overwhelming success, attempts by comicbook publishers to introduce a newer audience to mainline superhero canon/continuity don’t work as well as expected. There’s a very simple reason for this: even in something meant to be introductory – there’re still decades worth of baggage anchoring it in past canon/continuity that, for most other people, is alienating. Well, that and the fact superhero comics in the United States involve more financial and time investment than seeing a handful of two-or-so-hour movies every year.

Which means, perhaps, those in comicbook publishing as well as its fandom need to leave behind such outdated modes of publication and distribution – like making more titles digital-only at a lesser price than physical copies, perhaps forgoing an on-going format for more series of self-contained graphic novels. It’ll be hard, I get that, but let me end by asking an important question: do you want this beautiful form of Art to still exist, even if it changes, to be enjoyed in the future or to deprive that future enjoyment for others by being too stubborn and willing to simply stagnate out of existence? All over petty concerns based in a sense of unwarranted ownership and gate-keeping?

‘Cause I can’t imagine how you can love comicbooks and not choose the former…


Next up: my review of The Clone Wars, hopefully, but if not that – it’ll be my op-ed on Tolkien’s influence on the fantasy genre or my Loki review. If I don’t keep getting distracted, as I’m prone to, it’ll be up later on this month.

[Edited 4/23/22, for image replacement]

Cue (Inappropriate) Laugh Track: On WANDAVISION

Seems like I can’t keep promises I made to myself (of all people) – that’s writer’s block for you!

Seriously though, I had a good deal of difficulty writing this piece and that made it equally hard to concentrate on writing anything else. I was even planning to follow it up with a review of The Falcon & Winter Soldier but, after that ended, found I had very little to say on it in comparison to WandaVision (which I’ll get to later on).

Anyway, let’s just get this over with…


When it comes to change, it’s usually a good idea to take baby-steps in order to gradually develop healthier habits. To try and rehabilitate harmful behavior drastically can, counterproductively, only entrench those negative qualities – there’s a place to be weaned as opposed to immediately going cold turkey. So, how does any of that relate to the Marvel Cinematic Universe or its latest release, WandaVision? Under Disney’s neurotically risk-averse supervision, the MCU is made up of making one baby-step forward and then taking two baby-steps back. There’ll be incremental risks, such as Captain America: Winter Soldier playing out more like a spy-thriller than a superhero film, but will pull their punches and go back to following a formula that has become staid at this point.

WandaVision has, surprisingly, been the MCU’s most experimental (by their standards) title – it is, in fact, a big step forward as opposed to a baby-step. Yet, at the same time, it seems the studio wasn’t entirely comfortable with its scenario and found ways to make it feel more like the rest of the MCU. It is, ostensibly, a character study taking place in a cordoned-off reality that parodies the conventions of U.S. televised comedy from the last seven decades. The rules of that reality don’t always make sense but that’s fine, given it’s all meant to symbolize Wanda Maximova (not “Maximoff” – oh, and played by Elizabeth Olsen) as she tries to process her grief and inability to cope with loss. Hell, even the first episode outright references David Lynch’s Eraserhead and that sets up a ton of precedence along with the Pleasantville homages.

All of that? It’s fantastic and I honestly couldn’t get enough of it. The problem, however, is that it isn’t the entirety of the show.

Fixing What’s Unbroken

There is a B-plot, of sorts, involving Monica Rambeau (Teyonah Parris) teaming up with Jimmy Woo (Randall Park) and Darcy Lewis (Kat Dennings) that may as well have been in an episode of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (I suppose it’d be “Agents of S.W.O.R.D.” in this case…) – it doesn’t feel like it needs to be there and complicates what would’ve been a straightforward character study. Over-expository dialogue has been an issue in the MCU for a while, but that was a case of telling over showing, whereas WandaVision‘s is downright fatuous. It’s a trend I’ve been noticing in general with entertainment, partly due to the popularity of Artistically illiterate internet detritus like CinemaSins and the endemic presence of lore-addicts in many fandom communities, where plot elements that would’ve been left intentionally unexplained or only implied for thematic reasons are now explicitly described to the point there’s no mystique or attempt at engaging the audience to ponder and interpret the meaning of the material.

I love Jordan Peele’s Us but still despise it when a character explains why the Tethered exist in a way that “makes sense” but…it shouldn’t have been there whatsoever. We don’t “need” to know why a bunch of mute doppelgangers inexplicably lived in corridors below the earth feeding upon raw rabbit flesh; any explanation would be unsatisfactory and only take away from symbolically representing an underclass, one formed from an economic system that operates as a zero-sum game where someone “has” to lose in order for another to win (i.e. capitalism). It’s like how Prometheus and Alien: Covenant tries to explain the background of the titular creature, also known as a “Xenomorph,” when that’s the last thing you should do. There is a reason the film series is called “Alien” and not “Xenomorph” – the creature represented the unknowable, of what is completely alien to us as humans. James Cameron’s Aliens, David Fincher’s studio-sabotaged Alien 3, and (yes) even Alien: Resurrection (shut up, I like Jean-Pierre Jeunet – he gave us Delicatessen, City of Lost Children, and Amelie…) showed enough of an understanding of that, that they expanded on Xenomorphs without also getting into minutiae that would only make them less interesting.

By the fourth episode of WandaVision, a lot of the first three episodes’ mystique is lost because, rather than vaguely alluding to the world outside of the sit-com reality of Westview, New Jersey; it becomes an active part of the narrative to the rest’s detriment. As much as I do like many of Monica’s scenes, especially her experience with The Snap being reversed (it’s more horrifying than triumphant as it was in Endgame), they – once again – both feel out-of-place with the main narrative and explain too much that was better left unsaid. Part of what made those first three episodes work was trying to figure out how the situation came to be in the first place, and in such a way that it complements Wanda’s character study, where any big reveal should be at the conclusion of the story. Except, here, it’s halfway through. It’s like if The Maltese Falcon revealed the titular McGuffin was a fake far earlier in the plot and, at that point, who gives a singular shit about anything else that happens after?

Honestly, the show comes off as either overwritten by those credited for the script or having too many goddamn script doctors brought in that they lost track of all the changes. Though, given Disney’s behavior in recent years, the latter is more likely. Why else would it be so inconsistent in quality? To be full of many insipid throwaway lines that end up contradicting other insipid throwaway lines? It’s completely absurd.

Rewriting the Rewrite of the Rewrite


The series’ mystery antagonist, when revealed, was given a really catchy theme song that’s so good you forget it’s complete nonsense. Though present throughout, under a different identity, they were not the one responsible for the events “all along.” They were responsible for sabotaging Wanda’s machinations in some form or another but it’s firmly established, at several points, that the sit-com reality is Wanda’s creation alone. She was not tricked or forced into creating an altered reality to live out homages to The Dick Van Dyke Show and Malcolm in the Middle but, suddenly, we’re getting this contrived bullshit at the last minute. So, did they just happen to be living in the same town that Wanda showed an interest in settling down? Were they expecting Wanda the entire time? Was Wanda’s presence in the town unexpected to them? Were they always manipulating Wanda or just playing it by ear? There is no straight answer given for any of this and, somehow, suggests all of them being the case. Gee, how convenient! Nothing tells you a story is ill-conceived more than being so indecisive about a minor, yet nonetheless important, plot point…

Apparently, it’s not enough for the series to have one antagonist but two – the second being Tyler Hayward (Josh Stamberg), the acting Director of S.W.O.R.D. – and his characterization is even more confusing. He initially claims that Wanda had stolen The Vision’s (Paul Bettany) corpse from a research facility and, more or less, revived him in the sit-com reality but is able to track them within its barriers and even Wanda herself, in a moment of vulnerability, views Vision as a corpse rather than being alive to imply that being the case. This is contradicted down the line when it’s revealed that Wanda didn’t resurrect The Vision at all – he is a mystical conjuration. You can try and argue it’s a twist but then you’d have to explain how Hayward was able to keep track of The Vision, despite being a conjuration instead of a resurrected corpse, or why Wanda would view him as a corpse if he wasn’t already a corpse – it’s more appropriate to call them what they actually are: plot holes.

Best. Sexy Halloween costume. Ever.

Y’see, Hayward – for some reason (it’s never made clear ’cause of course) – lied about The Vision’s corpse being stolen by Wanda and, apparently, repurposed them (acting more as a shell without a soul) to deal with Wanda taking an entire town hostage. But…why lie, at all? As the acting Director of S.W.O.R.D. and the given situation, there’s nothing technically illegitimate about his actions yet the show continually attempts to paint him as being in the wrong. Depending on the scene, Hayward is either a milquetoast professional or a gung-ho prick who shoots first and asks questions later, yet he’s introduced as the latter but shown as the former in flashbacks when meeting Monica and Wanda. It’s as if they shot the flashbacks prior to all the rewrites and still wanted to use them, even if they were incongruous with his new introduction. I know why this inconsistency exists and it’s awful: the show can’t let Wanda be the true villain of the story – so, along with the mystery antagonist, Hayward is an attempt at distracting the audience from the heinous nature of Wanda’s actions.

What makes all of that nauseating is, even as the story fully acknowledges how wrong it was of Wanda to force her will onto others, the show is determined to come up with reasons why she isn’t “as bad” as the mystery antagonist or Hayward. The non-reason given is that Wanda didn’t do it “on purpose” but that doesn’t matter anyway because, regardless of intention (which is not magical), she still caused a good deal of harm to others. She forced real people to play out a cowardly fantasy purely for her own sake and, when brought back to their senses, sounded as if they’re losing their minds to eldritch madness. This is something that even the imaginary Vision, Wanda’s own creation, points out to her and indicates – on some level – she knows it’s wrong.

When you really think about it, the only reason the mystery antagonist and Hayward are “bad” is because they were trying to stop her and…that’s it, really. Except their actions, even as the show incompetently tries to vilify them, are absolutely justified and would make them the heroes in any other (better) story. It’s the kind of Bizarro World morality as displayed in the works of Ayn Rand, where selfishness is lionized and altruism is demonized, but it’s not done for the sake of a personal philosophy (as wretched as that may be) but because studio execs – who, ironically, are often lacking in creativity despite being in an industry dependent on it – are simply checking off items on a list of arbitrary storytelling “rules” and tropes to follow based on how popular and profitable it is for their products.

What makes it perplexing, with WandaVision, is that it’d likely still be successful even if it took more risks and the fact it’s on a streaming service should give the showrunners more leeway. Even the more recent Falcon & Winter Soldier, other than being more cohesive as a narrative, can be politically subversive from time to time (though it too ultimately fails as a story) yet WandaVision – which is a far more personal than political story – can’t ever admit that the protagonist is the villain of her own story or have her face the consequences for her actions. It makes the finale feel so…goddamn hollow.

But, hey, how else would she appear in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness – coming out in March 2022!!!

And, Now, A Word From Our Sponsors…

The reason I front-loaded this piece with negative criticism was to better emphasize what makes the series so disappointing, because explaining what I liked and why might’ve come off as gushing praise. I’ve only briefly mentioned my fondness of the plot focusing on the altered sit-com reality, and further details about it deserve description far more than any other aspect of the show.

I’m honestly flabbergasted by how little anyone else speaks about the usage of the laugh track given how integral it is to the narrative. It’s easy to just presume it’s only part of the sit-com aesthetic, I suppose, but it’s obviously symbolic to Wanda’s character study – a manifestation of her psychological defense mechanism to avoid dealing with the past. The telltale signs are there; the comedy used in the series is purposefully broad and more awkward than it is clever or witty with the laugh track covering it up, much in the way many real broadly-styled sit-coms do with their lamer jokes, and the moments when it isn’t evoked indicates Wanda’s temporary loss of control over others and even the cordoned-off reality of her making. By the end of the series, when there’s no laugh track available, that loss of control becomes very apparent as random objects change to look like they did in previous decades despite the current time period resembling the early 2000’s. But, more importantly, the increased frequency of those changes parallel Wanda’s slide into deep depression and how she cannot avoid dealing with the trauma any further.

“What does our company do, exactly?”

The majority of sit-coms, as a form of entertainment, portray a heightened reality where no conflict cannot be solved with emotional but ultimately empty platitudes that – despite their vapidity – lead to feel-good closure without much effort spent on actual introspection. What make comedy series like It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia and Peep Show brilliant is how both eschew making their characters aspirational and suggest that, were they real people, they’d be absolutely intolerable to deal with and even threatening around any other normal person. As silly as this may sound, I’d argue they’re basically the Watchmen (the comic, not the movie or HBO series – which’re both massive pieces of shit) of sitcoms. Both deconstruct tropes of the genre and the main cast darkly mirror their popular counterparts, and neither of them could possibly work in any other genre or storytelling format.

A trait they both share, and this relates to WandaVision as well, is how the cast go through situations where they should learn a lesson based on the “rules” of the genre but simply don’t. However, at the same time, that’s also been the case for their popular counterparts – we, as the audience, simply accepted that lack of development as a genre staple. It is only until the premise of a sit-com is grounded more in our reality that the problematic behavior of the characters is now made obvious, as someone who never learns their lessons and regularly repeat mistakes tend to be a terrible human being. The difference is that, unlike those shows, Wanda Maximova needs to actually learn and grow – it’s the conclusion heavily implied as part of her character study.

The showrunners display a deep understanding of sit-coms and put a ton of effort into how each decade is portrayed, right down to what visual effects are used, which is startling when compared to the scenes outside of these segments. You can tell that there was a lot more love and care put into them to the point where the lighting and sets felt appropriate with each sit-com decade – they don’t come off as if they were made in the here and now, then lazily filtered the footage through some computer program that only feels inauthentic. You can’t help but be glued to the screen to see what weird-as-fuck-but-nonetheless-amazing thing will happen next…only to be interrupted by the ultimately meaningless antics of Monica, Jimmy, and Darcy as if it were an in-house advertisement for another series.

It was bad enough when Age of Ultron wasted part of its runtime on “setting up” Civil War and Ragnarok, as if they weren’t already going to market these films to oblivion, that’ve been rendered pointless the moment both of those films were released. However, that film was woeful from beginning to end as is and WandaVision had more imagination in its first episode than the entirety of that wretched waste of celluloid’s one-hundred-and-forty-one minutes.

Roll Credits

Watching and writing about WandaVision has honestly been an exhausting experience, but not for the better. It’s not like with films such as, say, Sorry to Bother You or Downfall where the subject material is so heavy that, though it is far from being “fun”, is also what make them meaningful and justifies the emotional whirlwind it puts you through. I wanted WandaVision to do the same, actually – going into the uncomfortable depths of a psyche traumatized by loss, and how such trauma when ignored and untreated can cause one to lash out and harm others under petty justifications. As much as it tries to do that, it fails where those aforementioned films succeeded due to a lack of a committed (pun intended) vision. Perhaps that is somewhat unfair as there was a vision but one undermined by a risk-averse studio, who lacked much-needed faith in it, and that’s far worse.

This exhaustion was further compounded by The Falcon & Winter Soldier which, even if more cohesive in tone and style, took the potential to be truly profound social commentary about systemic issues…only to be sanitized much in the way WandaVision had been. Scenes such as Sam “The Falcon/Captain America” Wilson (Anthony Mackie) and his sister, Sarah (Adepero Oduye), being denied a loan based on implicitly racist reasons – or almost everything involving Isiah Bradley (Carl Lumbly) – are fantastic and a definite step up from the respectability politics of Luke Cage‘s first season. However, not unlike Black Panther, it still pulls its punches by the end and cartoonishly vilifies the primary antagonist, rendering otherwise legitimate grievances invalid with inexplicable acts of evil. The handling of the Flagsmashers and their leader, Karli Morgenthau (Erin Kellyman), is easily one of the most tone-deaf creative decisions made in the MCU next to how Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) treats women like shit to…show he’s the bad guy, I guess? ‘Cause, hey, you can’t give credence to someone’s frustration with racial oppression and being left to suffer by his own family when he shoots and beats women, right?!

WandaVision' Finale Reveals Evan Peters' Pietro Real Identity
Wait, is this another season of American Horror Story?

Consider this one point: they redeem the secondary antagonist, John “U.S.Agent” Walker (Wyatt Russell), despite outright murdering a defenseless man with Captain America’s shield and staining it with blood in a fit of misdirected rage, while dozens of bystanders record it with smartphones, right at the very end of the series. Much like how WandaVision can’t allow Wanda to be the true villain of that story, The Falcon & Winter Soldier can’t allow it for U.S.Agent either. They throw other characters, whose actions made sense given their situation, under the bus to make them seem “less bad” (even though it doesn’t) no matter how abrupt and absurd their change of motivation or rationale.

Like, where were the showrunners on January 6th of this year? Did they completely miss that attempted coup which was, in fact, not done by antifascist activists – who the Flagsmashers bare a strong resemblance to – but the kind of jingoistic, bellicose dickheads who’d be more like U.S.Agent? Either they buried their head in the sand during the whole clusterfuck or they did notice and, being unreasonably risk-averse, didn’t want to offend anybody (even the fascists) and did this “both sides” bullshit to cover their bases. Whatever the reason, it’s absolutely craven on their part and proves that, far from going “full-on SJW” as the many man-children of the internet claim, Disney is willing to pander to the worst of humanity (they certainly did so with Rise of Skywalker…) as long as they get money. Any contrary assertion is downright delusional.

How about Loki, though? Of course I like it, so far – as I did with WandaVision and The Falcon & Winter Soldier in their first half. The thing is, however, that I really want to like this series more than those two yet dread it will still disappoint as they have (if not worse) by the end. Tom Hiddleston is always an absolute delight as Loki and, after finding Endgame‘s usage of it somewhat underwhelming after so much build-up, the series’ take on time-travel and tangent timelines is incredibly inventive rather than simply an excuse for fan-service or slapstick gags. Part of me knows how the series is going to end – the title of the upcoming Dr. Strange film is indicative enough – but I can only hope that, unlike WandaVision and The Falcon & Winter Soldier, it sticks to landing and ends with a proper bang than a compromised whimper.

A little over a year ago in my review of Jessica Jones‘ final season, I said “Ever since Endgame, it feels like the sky’s the limit…” and Far From Home helped reinforce that. That’s not so much the case now and I really didn’t want that to be the case – but that’s what happens when you get your hopes up, I suppose.


As I was tormenting myself to finish this piece, in spite of my avoidant behavior, I finished watching all of The Clone Wars and…I’ll tell you what I think, for next time (you might be surprised)!

There’re a bunch of pieces I’ve decided to drop simply because I either don’t have a lot to say about them, as I have with The Falcon & Winter Soldier, such as the follow-up to my JoJo’s NonFan ReviewThus Spoke Rohan Kishibe – despite liking it far more than that show. The most justice I could do is highly suggest watching it because, in my opinion, it’s better than entire sections of JoJo’s within only four episodes. At this point? I’d rather see more of it than an animated adaptation of the “Stone Ocean” storyline because the approach is so refreshing. There aren’t enough (decent) anthology series around and Rohan Kishibe is as perfect a host as the Crypt Keeper, for he is not always a participant in events but can act as a witness to observe and record them for others to know. To describe any episode in too much detail would ruin an otherwise fantastic experience of seeing them firsthand.

After that? A couple of rants about how much I find “Big Events” and continuity/canon in superhero comics overrated and that J.R.R. Tolkien’s influence only handicaps the fantasy genre. I am not looking forward to how people will respond to them, given prior experience…

Lovecraftian Ludonarratives: Mini-Reviews for SUNDERED, DARKEST DUNGEON, and CONTROL

I needed me some vidyagames, but not just any vidyagames – ones like Bloodborne!

They’re not other Soulsborne titles but love letters to the various works of H.P. Lovecraft (minus the virulent racism, thankfully!) along with those who followed in his stead, as far back as August Derleth and Robert E. Howard (yes, that one) and as recent as Brian Lumley and Stephen King. Though Lovecraft in videogames is neither uncommon nor recent, when considering Alone in the Dark or the point-and-click adventure Shadow of the Comet, it’s often difficult to gamify the author’s work without cherry-picking elements and creating an original story around them. The fact Dark Corners of the Earth tried to be a first-person shooter where you incinerate Starspawn with a flame-thrower, mow down Deep Ones with a machinegun, blast Dagon in the face with a ship’s cannon, and take on a Flying Polyp with a retro-futuristic blaster is more than enough to prove why faithfully adapting Shadow Over Innsmouth as a videogame is impossible without ruining the source material. Though, even as a videogame, it failed miserably…

These games, on the other hand? It depends – but let’s get the worst out of the way first. May as well start with the bad news before getting to the good stuff.


Sundered

Sundered®: Eldritch Edition

There’s nothing as disappointing as wasting so much talent on something that’s otherwise lacking in quality. One can never fault Sundered‘s developer, Thunder Lotus, for their art direction and design along with the graphical fluidity of its character animations – imagining the painstaking work required to achieve such and how that, by itself, is admirable. Regardless, it’s not enough to carry the rest of the experience.

It is, ostensibly, a Metroidvania title with procedurally-generated dungeons upon each death – which carries no penalty, save for wasted time – and attained abilities for both combat and mobility to proceed. I’ve played enough games that use procedural generation to know that it works best when you can differentiate between each individual run and, if you’re unable to, suggests the developers should’ve used a specific level design instead. It’s done incredibly well in games like Enter the Gungeon where there’re innumerable combinations of rooms and challenges making every iteration feel unique, helped by its fast-paced quarter-munching arcade cabinet vibe, as well as Rogue Legacy with its addition of a procedurally-generated lineage of monster hunters invading a haunted shape-shifting castle (huh, that sounds oddly familiar…). When it doesn’t work, as evidenced in both Let It Die‘s Tower of Barbs and Bloodborne‘s Chalice Dungeons, it feels like the same three or four areas that’re sequenced in a different order each time yet can’t tell the difference after a while. Sundered is in the latter category and worsened by how badly the game already is at directing the player to the next objective.

As if the terrible navigation wasn’t frustrating enough, the frequency and intensity of spawned enemies make it a war of attrition as wave after wave comes after you with no end in sight. This isn’t difficult or challenging combat – it’s just being bombarded at every angle and given little room to react properly. You don’t die numerous times due to a hostile non-player character being smart enough to attack when leaving yourself open, as most of them are little more than cannon-fodder but, from being so over-stimulated by the visual clutter that you give up and let them kill you. The treks through nearly identical-looking procgen’d levels might be boring but, Jesus fuckin’ Christ, at least they weren’t assaulting my eyes and almost giving me a headache.

I regret not heeding George Weidman’s warning about the game and, being unusually gullible (’cause Lovecraftian horror), assumed the problems he brought up would somehow be fixed in future patches – because, unfortunately, that didn’t happen and it only makes me happier over the recent Cyberpunk 2077 controversy. At this point, it’s hard to defend any game with the possibility patches might fix issues when you know that such issues could’ve already been dealt with beforehand. Thunder Lotus, as much effort as they put into their graphics, didn’t put nearly enough effort into polishing the gameplay – they gave us a videogame we can enjoy gazing upon but at the cost of interactivity, and it’s just not worth it.

The next game is proof that you don’t need to be photogenic when you provide a far more fulfilling ludic experience…

Darkest Dungeon

Darkest Dungeon: The Crimson Court - How to Get a Courtyard Invitation |  AllGamers

In the cosmicism of H.P. Lovecraft’s work, humanity is not important in the grand scheme of things. How could we be? It’s nearly impossible for us to truly comprehend the vastness of space and time like Yog-Sothoth, with what we do know is infinitesimal in comparison. At best, we’re pawns in their incomprehensible machinations and can’t do much about it besides play along. At worst, we’re completely useless. You can always try to prepare for the worst, to avoid the pain of a severe loss, but they’re inevitable – though, at the same time, it only makes those small victories against overwhelming odds far more meaningful as result.

Darkest Dungeon has this theme woven into its game mechanics and manages to instill a great sense of player disempowerment with its punishing difficulty, something Bloodborne (as good a game as it still is) could not entirely achieve as an action title. Though its endings are fatalistic in nature, as even the player character attaining godhood makes them little more than a monstrous infant, it’s still a game where – with enough might and perseverance, and death rendered a minor inconvenience – you can still attain godhood. None of the player characters featured in Darkest Dungeon will ever reach that level of cosmic power. They will defeat many a beast and have moments of heroism, of course, but they are all nonetheless vulnerable and suffer permadeaths.

You are expected to treat each recruit to your cause, fighting back the otherworldly abominations of an abandoned palatial estate, as expendable. Each class of player character even looks the same, save for a limited selection of palette-swaps, further entrenching their interchangeability and disincentivize attachment to any one individual. There’ll always be another caravan of treasure-hunters and mercenaries with a death wish to send to their doom, yet the longer any of them manage to live – the more attached you become anyway…

They may be the digital simulacrum of people but, as any good ludic experience should, seeing these player characters go on one expedition after another and building them up to become legendary adventurers makes it all the more tragic when they do finally fall. Though some of their personality quirks grant benefits, others can often be detrimental to themselves or their comrades, but – unless you have the means to suppress those bad habits entirely (you usually won’t until later on) – you learn to live with their flaws and work around them, just like you do when interacting with other people in reality. Even those fireside chats, as procedurally generated as the dungeons themselves, make you care for them despite being little more than a proxy of a person made of computer code.

As someone who despises real-time combat in role-playing games and shoehorning stats into otherwise action-heavy titles relying more on hand-eye coordination skills, games like Darkest Dungeon remind me of why I appreciate turn-based combat mechanics in RPGs and utterly thankful when indie developers implement it into their games. Complaints about how it “looks silly” come off as wildly superficial when, honestly, the empty spectacle is just as silly-looking yet far more aggravating (if not just boring) to play. I greatly prefer an element of strategy over having poorly-programmed friendly AIs who only impede my progress or chiseling away at bullet-sponge enemies with an interminable health bar until it finally falls over, instead of making every move matter and where each successful attack hits hard – putting you in situations that cannot simply be won by turning off your brain and mashing buttons.

The row-based combat is similar to that of many Japanese RPGs but each party member’s position is integral as certain actions can only occur in a specific space and it noticeably differs with each character class. An Arbalest or Musketeer, for example, tend to gravitate being last in line as their primary attack focuses on sniping but can also serve as support – like minor healing and debuffing hostiles – while Crusaders and Hellions are best left at the head of the line with their powerful short-range attacks and high defense. Even then, there’re more versatile classes like Jesters and Shieldmaidens, whose attacks involve moving backward or forwards in a line-up and can complicate certain party line-ups when handled poorly.

It really helps the game emphasizes party management over inventory, which cuts down on so much monotonous busywork. There is an inventory system but it’s mostly for optional items, “Trinkets,” that grant bonuses – with more powerful pieces having a downside attached, to balance difficulty – but its most prevalent in the expeditions taken where, due to having a limited inventory space, makes preparation and collection a series of Sophie’s Choice scenarios. You *can* buy more food and torches just in case, but it means there’s less space to pick up valuable objects whether it’s currency, resources, or aforementioned Trinkets.

Said resources go to developing the game’s hub area, the Hamlet, where player characters relax between each expedition – whether it’s relieving stress at the bar or church, curing a pathological disease at the local medical ward, or upgrading the adventurers under your employ. It’s necessary to develop each establishment past their baseline benefits and give player characters a better chance of survival with improved equipment and skills (in a, thankfully, linear five-tier leveling process), so choosing whether to acquire currency or resources during each expedition is an important consideration to take. What good is currency, when you cannot further upgrade the player characters? What good are those resources, when you don’t have the currency to pay for those upgrades? If the inventory system was unlimited in its capacity, so much of what makes this game fulfilling as a challenge would be lost.

There’s very little to complain about Darkest Dungeon without sounding like petty nitpicking. Even if the game’s setting doesn’t actually do much interesting or new with the material that influenced it, its strengths as a videogame overshadow such minor weaknesses. Being derivative isn’t necessarily a bad thing when given the right kind of presentation. The next game, on the other hand, is a game that brings us an interesting take on H.P. Lovecraft’s brand of horror but, Shoggoths be damned, it’s as tedious to play through as it was to read through the man’s worst prose…

Control

Haunted houses are a common trope in horror fiction. It is usually inhabited by a malevolent entity whether it’s a ghost, a demon, or something else entirely who torment the current tenants of the house until they die or run away for their lives. However, in more recent years, there’s this particular iteration of that trope where the house itself is the malevolent entity. I’m not aware of any term describing this sub-trope and decided to give it a name of my own: “The Living Architecture.” There’re obvious examples in videogames: Silent Hill 2 and its sequel, Silent Hill 4: The Room; the various indie projects of Kitty Horrorshow, but notably Anatomy; and, now, we have Remedy’s Control.

The Oldest House is obviously not a house, given its appearance as 33 Thomas Street in New York City, but it’s not a piece of Brutalist architecture either. It’s alive. Even then, it’s not just a living Brutalist building…maybe. It’s connected to an upside-down black pyramid that exists in a pocket dimension appearing as little more than blank space, as well as a group of entities who’re collectively called “The Board of Directors” that occupy it and a Finnish janitor who is not actually a Finnish janitor (played by Martti Suosalo). All of them may, in fact, be the same being taking different forms much like the titular creature from Stephen King’s It where Pennywise the Dancing Clown is but one of the monster’s many avatars. All that we really ever get to know about them, technically, is that they aren’t the two antagonistic forces within the narrative: The Former (exiled from “The Board”) and The Hiss, both of whom are just as inscrutable. Then, it gets more surreal.

This scenario’s wild card takes the form of Jesse Faden (played by Courtney Hope), who acts as the conduit for another entity – one she’s named “Polaris.” Like its namesake, it guides Jesse to the Federal Bureau of Control and, by proxy, her kidnapped twin brother which usually appears as a shimmering fractal spiral to highlight checkpoints and mission objectives. The thing is, though, I honestly can’t determine whether it’s Jesse or Polaris who is the actual player character. There’s something off about Jesse, though that does apply to the rest of the phenomenally characterized cast, with her reactions towards the extraordinary and inexplicable as either slight bemusement or stoicism bordering on apathy. As if she’s not really there, that something else is in the driving seat and she’s providing commentary while watching from a Cartesian theater. Nothing suggests Jesse has any firearms training and each superpower she gets is new to her, but nonetheless uses both rather proficiently upon receiving them. If Jesse Faden is simply a puppet of Polaris, does that make the players themselves Polaris?

I don’t know. They never explain it and, by Cthulhu’s tentacle-beard, I love that!

Too bad playing the game is nowhere near as interesting as the setting, its inhabitants, or any idea explored within the plot. It’s confusing how Remedy can use all these high concepts in their story, yet it’s attached to this third-person shooter format – which made sense with the first two Max Payne games, what with all the homages to John Woo and The Matrix, but feels lazily implemented in a game like Control. You’d think, given all the shape-shifting rooms and Weird Fiction elements, it’d involve more puzzle-solving with aspects of survival horror but, no, you’re just mowing down a bunch of dudes in SWAT gear with firearms like so many other titles but with magic bullets and typical variations of telekinesis. Well, okay, there are other kinds of enemies but they’re incredibly annoying (especially the ones that fly) and, when combined with some environmental effects that overwork the hardware (causing graphical slowdowns or skips) and misleading visual overlays that don’t indicate if you’ve lost health but feel like such, turn battles into as much of a clusterfuck as they were in Sundered. Don’t get me started on the weirdly granular skill tree, resource-gathering for upgrades, and combat mods that’re so specific in their function they’re useless…

What made this unengaging gameplay loop tolerable enough to wade through, if anything, was everything else around it. Each collectible – which comes in a variety of forms – does a fantastic job at world-building; giving you a better understanding of the FBC’s function, those within its weirdly inexhaustible workforce, and what (very) little they know of the Black Pyramid/Oldest House/Astral Plane/etc. If them kidnapping Jesse’s twin brother isn’t enough to indicate their dubious ethics, an FBC psychologist (who clearly does not understand children) conceives the world’s most unnerving kids’ show. Y’know, to both “entertain” and educate the six-year-old orphan they hold captive about all the supernatural nonsense. Seriously, “Threshold Kids” feels like part of [Adult Swim]’s live-action line-up but with the disconcerting oddity amped up to even rival The Eric Andre Show.

There’re also awkward, badly-edited instructional presentations by Casper Darling (played by Matthew Porretta), who seems like a charmingly goofy tinkerer that wouldn’t be out of place in Ghostbusters, but it slowly becomes apparent that he’s actually a…mad scientist. Not akin to a comicbook supervillain or from Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, but fugitive Nazis hiding in South America to make clones of Hitler like The Boys from Brazil. Much like ally Emily Pope (played by Antonia Bernath), he seems too nice and that’s more alienating than Jesse’s cold demeanor, and one can’t help but wonder that they must be hiding something unforgivable under this obvious façade of congeniality.

Though their function may be necessary, most of those employed by the FBC aren’t actually good people and more interested in getting the job done than anything else – they’re as if Hannah Arendt’s concept of the “Banality of Evil” physically manifested. Even the FBC’s previous Director, Zachariah Trench (played by James McCaffrey, the voice of Max Payne himself!), is more paranoid and ominously menacing than Joseph fucking McCarthy during the Red Scare, whose obsession with security and safety becomes more of a curse than a blessing as it consumes him. It’s rather depressing the most trustworthy person is the ghost of Alan Wake (yes, that one…also played by Matthew Porretta) and only a little of what he says makes any sense. It’s indicative of how the setting itself, along with the Brutalist architecture, is as atmospherically hostile to the player as Yharnam was in Bloodborne – the Oldest House may tolerate your presence, for its personal benefit, but only begrudgingly…for now.

There’s a lot more I can say about the game, for another nine or so blocks of text – including how the song “Take Control” by Poets of the Fall or Casper Darling’s creepy stalker music video for “Dynamite” is fucking amazing and why – but that’s the ultimate problem with Control: it’s more interesting to think about and discuss than as a ludic experience. That’s unfortunate, for its potential was about as vast as the Astral Plane itself…


The three-month delay is honestly quite shameful, on my end, but I do have a good reason: I’ve recently moved back to Southern California to take care of my dad, who’s recently had shoulder surgery, as well as doing some home improvements for his place – plus, like, I really needed the change in scenery and it was becoming too expensive to live up north. I’m still acclimating to my new environment, which is warmer and dryer than what I’ve gotten used to over the last seven years, but – now that I have a good deal less to worry about and depress me into another writer’s block – I intend to put out more content on regular basis and have a bunch of other pieces current in the works. Oh, and my birthday was eight days ago – so, yeah, happy (belated) birthday to me!

I’ll have a review of WandaVision by next week, or the one after that, as well as a (mostly) freeform rant/op-ed and another installment of Surfing the Netflix: Animation Edition on none other than Thus Spoke Rohan Kishibe, as a follow-up to my Non-Fan Review of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure.

A Non-Fan Review: JOJO’S BIZARRE ADVENTURE (The Anime) – Part 2

This took longer than expected…again (I really need to work on that).

Anyway, continuing on from the previous installment!


O Senpai, My Senpai

Much to my admitted shame, I assumed that Hirohiko Araki was a gay man when he is, in fact, not, and based that on his work than anything more empirical like statements from interviews. He’s actually married to a woman named Asami (huh, “Asami Araki,” quite the alliterative Marvel name…like Peter Parker, Susan Storm, or Warren Worthington!) and they’ve had two daughters together. Heck, here she is doing a very JoJoesque pose:

(Sorry, I couldn’t find a larger photo…)

It’s unfortunate how certain stereotypes become so socially ingrained that, though you do know better, you still accidentally use them for reference. Men having an interest in fashion design, being effeminate in mannerisms and taste, or objectifying the male form (it is a thing but uncommon like the “female gaze”) doesn’t necessarily make one gay, obviously, but you still make the association after years of hearsay and pop culture hammering it into your skull. Even shows as recent as Venture Bros. – with one of the two titular characters exhibiting effeminate traits and tastes but nonetheless attracted to women – or as far back as Mr. Show have made such point:

Nonetheless, JoJo’s has plenty of character moments that can be read as queer-coded. Jonathan Joestar and Dio Brando may be adoptive siblings and intense rivals, according to the text, but it wouldn’t be too far off to compare their interactions to that of quarreling lovers whose relationship has soured and lead to overwhelming contempt. They speak to and fight each other with a sense of passion that isn’t really there with Jonathan’s love interest, Erina, who’s not a character as much as an object to be acted upon. Even the conclusion of “Phantom Blood” comes off as a romantic tragedy between them and, in “Stardust Crusaders”, it’s revealed that Dio is still very much alive a hundred years later (’cause vampirism)…but now has Jonathan’s body to replace his own. A body he’s quite fond of showing off as much as possible.

There’s a reason I said “read as queer-coding” than “is queer-coded.” Most examples of such, up until the “Golden Wind” story-arc, aren’t even implied by the text. It’s purely interpretation on my (or anyone else’s) part and shouldn’t be factualized, especially if the creator has not confirmed it elsewhere. That isn’t to say I think authorial intent is absolute – Upton Sinclair admitted as much when it came to The Jungle (“I aimed at the public’s heart and, by accident, I hit it in the stomach.”) – yet it’s important to consider to some extent than be flippantly dismissed. Moreso when it’s done for the sake of projecting one’s sensibilities onto a work than trying to understand what it is actually about. It’s an all-too-common form of online solipsism that I’ve come to despise, moreso when done with this unwarranted sense of authority over the material.

However, with all that said, interpreting various scenes in JoJo’s as being queer-coded is definitely more legitimate than, say, arguing the Star Wars Prequels are secretly brilliant ’cause reasons – which (in my experience) have little or nothing to do with the movies themselves (no, goddammit, The Clone Wars being good doesn’t make them better by proxy nor should I have to read novelizations or comics to “get it”). It may be accidental on Araki’s part but, well, it’s hard not to see it as queer-coded in moments like this one:

This is disgusting yet beautiful - 9GAG
Awkwaaaaaaaaaaard

For context, Old Joseph and Abdul (again, not “Avdol”) have been affected by an enemy’s Stand that not only magnetizes them but gradually increases that magnetism with time – to both one another and metal objects. It’s actually from two of my favorite episodes in “Stardust Crusaders”, since it’s less of a battle than it is a Buster Keatonesque set-piece that’s downright farcical, with the pictured scene as one of the many gags featured. The whole situation actually gives you a sense of how both Joseph and Abdul have been a team for a while now and dealt with events similar to the one encountered, especially as they cooperatively defeat the enemy Stand-user by using their Stand’s power against them rather than with Magician’s Red or Hermit Purple. At face value, it could be viewed as homophobic – I can’t really agree given a few small, but important, details; neither Joseph or Abdul are embarrassed of the physical contact by itself for “looking gay” (they’re quite comfortable being in close proximity while traveling together) but that, since this is happening out in public with numerous bystanders around, their failed attempt to try separating from one another ends up being misunderstood as a sexual act done out in the open.

Oh and, by the way, that enemy Stand-user is a woman named “Mariah” (as in Carey). In case you’ve lost count; I’ve now mentioned only three female characters so far – four, if you want to include Erina (I wouldn’t).

Araki’s portrayal of women throughout the series greatly confuses me. Erina exists merely as a love interest (or, perhaps, so both Jonathan and Dio had a case of the “Not-Gays”) that leads to Joseph being the primary protagonist in “Battle Tendency” yet with Joseph’s mentor, Lisa Lisa, it’s the polar opposite. She’s an indominable figure and stern instructor who does not suffer fools like Joseph so gladly, betraying her outward appearance as this porcelain-skinned and raven-haired Englishwoman who wouldn’t be out of place as a more subservient lady-in-waiting from the works of Jane Austen or Oscar Wilde. Even when she does end up becoming a damsel-in-distress at one point, it isn’t due to suddenly being rendered incompetent or powerless but because her opponent – aware of how dangerous a foe she was – played a dirty trick to win a fight they may’ve otherwise lost. She is sexually objectified earlier on, with Joseph peeking through a keyhole as she bathes, but Caesar chastises Joseph (and the audience by proxy) for it upon his notice. In fact, the story-arc has many moments where Joseph says some misogynistic bullshit – which almost every other character, thankfully, chastise him for rather than treat it as endearingly “quirky” behavior.

So, what the fuck happened with “Stardust Crusaders”…?

Maybe one of the reasons I dislike Jotaro is that, when introduced, he keeps calling his mom – who is literally the nicest woman alive – a “bitch.” This isn’t helped further when Holly, Jotaro’s mom, ends up terminally ill and whenever a character brings it up later on – she’s displayed as fully nude with thorny vines covering up areolas and genitalia as if it were a centerfold in Playboy. Just…fucking what?!

Another reason to dislike Jotaro? After rescuing Anne, mistaken as a prepubescent boy at the time, he feels her up to confirm she wasn’t a boy as first assumed as if that isn’t sexual assault or anything. Some episodes down the line, when Jotaro and co. end up on an abandoned freighter, Anne is stalked and leered at by a perverted orangutan while she’s taking a shower – which wouldn’t be so bad if her fully nude backside wasn’t displayed. It was already confirmed that she’s twelve goddamn years old and yet she’s sexualized by the cinematography while portrayed as, somehow, having the wide hips and buttocks of a woman twice her age. I never thought I’d make an argument like this but, at least when Lisa Lisa was being sexualized, she was a surprisingly youthful-looking woman in her 50s – not one year away from being a teenager.

That’s just the tip of the iceberg and, even if I could go further, thinking about all those other equally atrocious moments involving women in the story-arc just upsets me too much.

It makes “Golden Wind” and Trish Una’s somewhat lackluster presence refreshing because, though she too is sexualized, Trish wears (though somewhat skimpy) clothing than none (at any point) and is closer to the age of the main characters. I hate even writing that out – but, perhaps, that’s a bit unfair to Trish as well. She definitely had the potential to be a more active participant, rather than simply escorted from place to place, as a Stand-user herself and hints of a romance between her and Guido Mista, but the former happens too late within the story-arc and the latter is underdeveloped. It doesn’t help that, when her Stand is eventually revealed, their power is to…make non-rubbery things rubbery. It’s suggested earlier on to be far more powerful than that, perhaps enough to rival “The Boss” and their Stand called “King Crimson” (after one of the best rock bands ever), but I’m not sure how that can compete with weaponized time-skipping straight from that one episode of Futurama.

However, with that said, I want to end on a more positive note. For all the issues I have stated about the series – I do, in fact, like this series overall. It’s why I saved the best for last…

Shine On

I think what many people like about JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, more than anything, is Araki himself – or, specifically, his Artistic presentation. It’s a creative vision that is just as distinct as Hideo Kojima’s and, erratic in quality as it may be, that’s to be appreciated in a world where it’s becoming a rarity and many creatives can end up feeling interchangeable (upper-management meddling doesn’t help). There’re a lot of issues I have with auteurism as a concept since film production, videogame development, and even making a superhero comic are collective efforts than a product of one person’s endeavor but it’s also hard to deny that films directed by David Lynch or Quentin Tarantino always feel like one made by Lynch or Tarantino and no one else. So, in that sense, Araki is an auteur – but his style is an acquired taste like sardines or caviar.

If you aren’t exactly on Araki’s wavelength, which I occasionally wasn’t, it’s understandably difficult to connect with the material. There’s a reason I didn’t get into the series any sooner and it’s that those who are on Araki’s wavelength, despite their enthusiasm, do a poor job of explaining what JoJo’s is or why the series is worth time and energy to one who’s unfamiliar. It’s as if they’re speaking a different language only they can understand, in having inundated themselves with anime and manga while lacking all other points of reference. It’s a sadly common behavior across all fandom – this inability to properly communicate to anyone outside their group about their chosen hobby. All due to fixating on a single form of entertainment or franchise, while neglecting all others, that creates an increasingly insular and inaccessible community. Why would someone with a passing interest in superhero comics get into them, if introduced to fans obsessing over canonized minutiae only they care about and demand memorization as a prerequisite for entry? Who’d want to become a “Gamer” when something that’s meant to be enjoyed causes you to be an overly-defensive, needlessly competitive asshole who only cares about “gittin’ gud”? I mean, even as someone who likes anime enough to consider Perfect Blue and Princess Mononoke two of my favorite films next to Blade Runner, it’s hard to fault someone for staying away when so many series portray underage girls in the creepiest way imaginable. It’s impossible to notice any of those red flags when unwilling to take off your rose-colored shades and put on a different pair.

If there’s any aspect about Araki that I find absolutely charming, it’s that he imbues the series with this rock-and-roll sensibility throughout. If it wasn’t already obvious from before; whether it’s a character, their Stand, or a Stand’s ability – they’re likely named after a band, a solo musician, a song, or even an album. The way in which they’re applied doesn’t always make sense, like a millennia-old Aztec vampire being named “AC/DC”, but it’s hard to not love it in certain cases like “Robert E.O. Speedwagon” (which is, like, the best name ever!), “Steely Dan”, or the Stand “Killer Queen” with special attacks called “Sheer Heart Attack” and “Bites The Dust.” How about the songs I used at the beginning of each section? They’re all featured in the end credits and, in having no prior knowledge of this, made the usage of Yes’ “Roundabout” a pleasant surprise only to then become gleefully nostalgic upon hearing Savage Garden’s “I Want You” and Jodeci’s “Freek’n You.” It was like watching Jordan Peele’s Us and getting giddy as fuck when “I Got 5 On It” is sung by the main characters – it’s a feeling I don’t get as much as I’d like these days.

Each story-arc also feels like you’re getting a glimpse of Araki’s pet obsession at the time as “Phantom Blood” seems inspired by Victorian literature like, duh, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, “Battle Tendency” by pulp adventures like Indiana Jones, and “Stardust Crusaders” comes off as equal parts Spaghetti Western – Jotaro is basically a Japanese Clint Eastwood – and 80’s Cannon Film action schlock. He definitely goes all out with his Italophilia in “Golden Wind”, which was only hinted at in previous story-arcs, to the extent characters are named after specific cuisines (it’s really weird to be reminded of Sorcerer Hunters…) and the road trip format features many scenic landscapes of the peninsular nation – it’s like marketing material to promote tourism (shit, it made me want to visit the place more than I already did). That leaves “Diamond Is Unbreakable” as the odd one out, but for good reason.

Whereas the foreign locales in most other story-arcs acted as background for the action set pieces, akin to a James Bond movie – save for the visually underwhelming Ye Olde Britain of “Phantom Blood” – the central Japanese suburbia that is Morioh is a very lived-in place that exudes personality. It’s as much a character as primary protagonist Josuke “JoJo IV” Higashikata and his wide array of supporting cast members, as one grows familiar with the layout of its streets and geographical points of interest that remains consistent from beginning to end. There’s never a point where it looks like the characters are hundreds of miles away in an entirely different environment, as specific areas and notable landmarks are revisited regularly enough to assure you this all takes place within a single township. More importantly, due to its superficial mundanity, the events that play out really does put the “Bizarre Adventure” in JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. It makes the appearance of an invisible baby and a new resident who may or may not be an extraterrestrial feel far more momentous than a steady stream of back-to-back battles.

The slice-of-life elements of “Diamond Is Unbreakable” is something the rest of the series really needed more of because, as amusing as moments like the “Torture Dance” may be, it does a better job at characterization. Seeing these people go about a daily schedule – whether it’s attending school, working their job, or stopping by the local bodega for another box of Pocky – help differentiate them better, as personality traits are more clearly defined through such interactions than the all-too-brief lulls in between fights. When there is a confrontation, it’s more often framed as an elaborate puzzle or mind game than straightforwardly violent as it is elsewhere. It’s when the series is at its most character-driven that makes for a world of difference, reminding you that action sequences should be built up to in order to act as pay-off, and that endless action just bleeds together after a while. If I were to recommend JoJo’s to anyone, I’d always clarify that “Diamond Is Unbreakable” is where they should start – it’s the only story-arc I’d actively rewatch like “Battle Tendency” but unlike the rest, save for a small handful of episodes (definitely the Iggy/Pet Shop fight).

I’ve actually considered reading that part of the manga, as well as future story-arcs that’ve yet to be adapted into anime…and this is where I’ll conclude my rambling.

Neon Genesis EvanJoJolion

After watching all of the anime and writing about it, I think I’ll need a bit of a break from JoJo’s – but that doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to future story-arcs. Quite the opposite, actually!

The fact “Star Ocean” has a primary protagonist, Jolyne (I can only hope they’re named after the Dolly Parton song), who’s female is interesting enough by itself – due to how downplayed the presence of women have been in the series so far – but that she’s also Jotaro’s estranged white trash Floridian daughter is just as intriguing. Though I’m more interested in both “Steel Ball Run” and “JoJolion” as the series pulls a Devilman: Crybaby where the timeline is rebooted, having characters sharing the namesakes of those from the previous timeline while being entirely different people. “Steel Ball Run” especially as it’s framed as a Western (a genre I’m quite partial to) about a cross-country horse race with a paraplegic protagonist, Johnny Joestar, and a fictional U.S. President named “Funny Valentine” as the villain. So, like Hidalgo, but with superpowers! Trying to describe “JoJolion” – based on the Wikipedia page about it – wouldn’t do much justice as it’d be confusing without experiencing it firsthand. Well, save for involving magical fruit and silicon-based humanoids infiltrating society, which is…different. You’d almost assume, by the story-arc’s title alone, it was in reference to Neon Genesis Evangelion but there are no biomechanical giants piloted by traumatized teenagers fighting Angels from the Old Testament (though there are mysterious structures called “Wall Eyes” that make me think of SEELE’s logo and their monoliths).

However, none of them have been officially published in English nor have they been adapted into anime. I could pursue the fan-translated manga online but I’m already reading Dorohedoro, which I’d prefer to finish first, and my comicbook backlog in general is big enough to break the back of many a camel (if they were physical rather than digital). As David Production’s anime adaptation of the series has popularized it and “Golden Wind” only finished its run on Toonami this late October, it’s possible – when including David Production’s project schedule as well as COVID-19’s presence – that a “Stone Ocean” anime will appear sometime in the middle of next year or early 2022. Maybe I’ll just wait, until then…


Okay, that’s it – time to make some changes on this site.

Having just one review – or, in this case, two halves of one review – a month isn’t working out for me. I’m still going to write such pieces but there’s going to be more in the style of opinion-editorials or brief observations about a current interest of mine, because I don’t get as much exposure as I’d like for my writing and it only discourages me. I don’t think I can ever be a YouTuber with a following to justify a Patreon (my ko-fi account is still incomplete due to my moving to SoCal) and a single video every few weeks as a feasible method of income, since I am an opinionated nobody who hates being in front of a camera (suppose that gives me something in common with Thomas Pynchon) and can’t listen to their voice on a recording without getting violently embarrassed by it. Writing’s basically all I got and it seems no one is going to read unless I make some changes, preferably for the better.

All that said: my next Non-Fan Review will be on…The Clone Wars. ‘Cause, holy shit, I need to get some stuff off my chest about Star Wars as a franchise.

Happy Holidays, y’all!