#and being 5-7-5 doesn’t mean its a proper haiku

[official-nature-posts]

I just realised that

“Po- Ta- Toes,

Boil them, mash them,

Stick them in a stew”

fits the description for a haiku.

[finnickodaiir]

IT Chapter Two: A Failure.

I will be criticizing the characterizations, the plot, the horror aspects and I will be comparing the film to the 1990 miniseries and the 1986 novel.

Characterization:

Ben. While he is still similar to his book counterpart, the writing for his character in the movies could have been better, because apart from being the lovesick poet and the history buff (a role which belonged to Mike in the book and in the 1990 miniseries), he didn’t get much of a characterization beyond that. In the novel, Ben was still a curious kid, who was interested in architecture and physics, and he was still a hopeless romantic, but he was not quite the poet the movies and the fandom makes him out to be, and as he stated in the book the reason why he liked haikus is because they are “structured poetry”. He was also the one responsible for building the dam in the barrens, the silver bullets and the underground clubhouse, which, except for the latter, were all excluded from Muschietti’s films. Another important moment from the novel, which was left out of the movies, was the scene where he stood up to his Gym teacher, who was complicit in the bullying he suffered at the hands of his classmates, which could have been in the second film, instead of his flashback with Pennywise, who was disguised as Beverly, a scene which didn’t provide the viewer with any new information about the character and its sole purpose was to pay homage to the 1990 miniseries.

Beverly. The movie at its worst never gets as bad as the book did, but one would expect that two movies made in the 21st century would be more progressive than a novel written in the 1980s, while certain aspects of the character were slightly better handled in the movies, it was not as good as it could have been. In the first film, Beverly is an outcast due to false rumors of promiscuity, an odd choice, because in the novel and in the miniseries she was bullied for being poor and wearing secondhand clothes, and because classism was still an issue in 1989 (the year the first film is set), it’s still is todays, so that was an unnecessary change. As was the fact that she didn’t interact much with other Losers, aside from her love interests (Bill and Ben), but perhaps the most infuriating decision was turning her into a damsel in distress and removing her role as the sharpshooter of the group. There are still positive aspects in Ch1’s treatment of Bev, she was given a personality while her book counterpart was an incredibly flat character. In the second film the scene where she is physically assaulted by her husband is played for shock value, while in the novel Beverly left her husband severely injured and he was later killed by It, in the 2019 film this scene was never addressed in a meaningful way, so it just comes across as gratuitous violence. Perhaps the best decision the second movie made regarding Beverly’s character was replacing the one-night stand she had with Bill with just a kiss to show that those childhood feelings no longer existed.

Bill. He was much better handled in the movies, while in the book the other Losers (except for Mike and maybe Stan) idolize Bill, in the movies they don’t, which makes them equals. My only complaint would be that scene in the second movie where he tells Audra that he wishes she would be like that woman he wanted. This would have made sense if they were going to stick with book arc and have him cheat on Audra, because he was still attracted to Bev, but that didn’t happen so that scene felt out of place with the rest of the film.

Eddie. He is the case of a character who was relatively well-written in the first movie, but then suffered a complete personality change in the second film. While in the first movie Eddie was brave and kind, traits which his book counterpart has, Ch2 Eddie was mean-spirited and cowardly. Most of his arc and coding was given to Richie, because the director thought that his fear of illness and relationship with his mother was enough, but he failed to realize that his fears of illness/germs and that feeling that he’s rotten are due to his internalized homophobia. And Muschietti didn’t even do a good job at handling what remained of Eddie’s arc (his fear of illness and relationship with his mother), he played it for laughs.  He did not even let Eddie have agency over his death, in the novel he chose to sacrifice himself to save Richie and Bill. In the movie he still saves Richie from the deadlights, but he turns his back on It, giving the creature the opportunity to stab and thus losing any agency the character had over his fate in the book and the miniseries. He also butchered his death scene, which in the novel was when he finally accepted himself:

“Fading, fading back. Becoming clearer and clearer, emptying out, all of the impurities flowing out of him so he could become clear, so that the light could flow through, and if he had had time enough he could have preached on this, he could have sermonized: Not bad, he would begin. This is not bad at all. But there was something else he had to say first. “Richie,” he whispered. “What?” Richie was down on his hands and knees, staring at him desperately. “Don’t call me Eds,” he said, and smiled. He raised his left hand slowly and touched Richie’s cheek. Richie was crying. “You know I … I …” Eddie closed his eyes, thinking how to finish, and while he was still thinking it over he died.” (Stephen King, IT pp. 1086-7)

 And Muschietti replaced that with a scene that made Eddie’s death all about Richie’s grief and changed his last words to “I fucked your mom”. All the emotional impact his death had has been completely lost.

Mike. No doubt he was the character who got the worst treatment in both movies. In the first movie, he was barely given any screen time, his role as the history buff in the group was given to Ben and they killed off his parents. In the second film, they didn’t even give him his a proper place to live in, he was just leaving in an attic, they had him steal artifacts from Native Americans (I’ll discuss that later), drug one of his friends, lie about the Ritual of Chüd being effective and he was the only Loser who didn’t even get a flashback of their own. While in the book, he was the historian, had the best parents and was one of the most important Losers. The only positive change that Muschietti made was having Mike go down to the sewers with the group for the final battle.

Richie. Even though he was played by Bill Hader, he wasn’t given the opportunity to be funny, apart from 1 impression, which was improvised. Also they removed his struggles with his sexuality in the first film, which was poorly retconned in the second film, his own bi-coding in the book was ignored and replaced with Eddie’s gay-coding (whose sexuality was left ambiguous at best), had him try to run away every 5 seconds (which something he never did in the book, he is one of the most loyal Losers), made his parents negligent just to add more unnecessary angst, because Muschietti thinks trauma = nuance. And just flattened an interesting character and took away any charm he had in the book, miniseries and Ch1.

Stan. While he was still the least developed Loser in the book, we never even get his POV, he had more character traits than just “the kid who gets annoyed easily”. In the book he was an eccentric kid with an equally eccentric sense of humor, had an interest in ornithology (completely left out apart from that puzzle), a good relationship with his parents who encouraged their son’s hobbies and weren’t as orthodox as the movies portray them. They replaced his encounter with the dead boys in the Standpipe for a painting (apparently that was Andy projecting himself onto Stan), which makes no sense because the dead kids offended him and Stan is a logical person, he would not have been scared of a painting. And they romanticized his suicide, framing it was an act of heroism, which sends the wrong message about suicide and is inaccurate, because the reason why the Losers were able to fight It is because there were seven of them, It was even scared of them. So, saying that his death was necessary to keep the Losers united just misses the point.

Issues with the Plot:

Raising the stakes to be more dramatic ended up hurting the story, while in the book the Losers’ decision to stay and fight It was one of selflessness, they decided keep a promise they made when they were eleven years old, in the second movie if they didn’t destroy It, they would end up dying, so this decision became one of self-preservation.

In the movie if they didn’t kill It, they would end up dying. This damaged the plot and eliminated the feeling of friendship, in this movie the Losers barely felt like old friends and more like co-workers. Another odd choice  was to include the Ritual of Chüd, turn into a Native American ritual and portray them in a stereotypical way and it was also unnecessary to include that, because the ritual doesn’t work, so the viewer just wasted an hour watching the Losers looking for their tokens and in the end It was killed by the power of bullying. Another flaw of Chapter Two is its runtime, the movie is almost three hours along, most of the flashbacks were unnecessary and its structure is rather disjointed.

The film also fails to address important scenes in a meaningful way, while in the book the murder of Adrian Mellon was based on a real event and was included to condemn this action, the film never addressed it (it wasn’t even mentioned afterwards), instead it was played for shock value. Probably because the actual scares of this were not effective at all, instead of relying on practical effect and trying to create tension, the filmmakers decided to use CGI for all these scenes. It would have been wiser if they had only used it in essential moments, for example, when It turned into a giant spider. In an attempt to avoid the criticism the 1990 miniseries faced for keeping the spider while also trying to stay faithful to the source material, they decided to create a ridiculous hybrid, a giant clown with spider legs, whose death was caused by the power of bullying. Ironic for a movie which was supposed to condemn such a thing. What the viewer was left with was a dull, unimpressive, charmless movie, filled with problems  caused by the director’s failure to understand the source material and the characters.

[runandtellthatreviews]

Robles-Alvarado, $26.00

https://www.amazon.com/Abuela-Stories-Project-Peggy-Robles-Alvarado/dp/0983277729

By Dimitri Reyes

The Abuela Stories Project, put together by writer/ educator Peggy Robles-Alvarado and Bronx artist Daisy Arroyo, is an amazing collection of words and images highlighting the iconic spirit of the Grandmother. Among the themed anthologies I’ve read, none has had a group of writers speak with such a collective voice. This comes from the fact that all the stories and poems are snapshots attempting to deliver a 360 degree view of the grandmother where she becomes a source of energy rather than memory. Moreover, Robles- Alvarado’s magic-making extends itself way into the editing of this all-female anthology where her hands have left fingerprints on every square inch of this book like the way Abuela cleans every square foot of casa on Sundays. This energy is not only representative in the poems but also extends into the way in which The Abuela Stories Project is organized. 

Moving from the status quo of the domesticated Grandmother and into the complexities that make the matriarch, the book is one-part praise and one-part interrogation into how or why our Grandmothers are the pinnacle models of family, either revealing themselves as the cartilage or repellent of a family system. On the contrary, the sections come together and converse in the fluids of oral history the way many communities find out information just through conversation. This also calls upon the natural mystic power of Robles- Alvarado in regards to her selection of writers whom contain a similar mysticism. What one can notice is how clearly these stories translate from spoken word to page where every piece of writing from the preface to the bios are given an equal amount of attention. This can be seen in the beginnings of the sections where each chapter opens up to a definition and a stunning photograph about the strong Abuela archetype.

Abuela sabe crear I Olga Huraira Ayala: ol-guh, woman of wind, “eye”-YAH-luh Synonym- Ita Holy, high creative, imaginative woman who rejects batas and chancletas. 2. In the business of briding polymer clay with espíritu, risas, and buen humor; see Hecho A Mano. 3. Defines self as a rare form of slightly crazy that keeps her grounded when wanting to run away from home. 4. Keeps baggie locks from her grandson’s first haircut. 5. After years of battling rolos, alisados, and conformist straighteners, made peace with her crown of curls; una mata de melena; cabello de rasistencia. 6. Knows prosperity dwells in fingertips. 7. Creación.

Here, “Abuela sabe crear” opens up the book and we are welcomed with a picture of Olga Huraira Ayala, one of the seven models Arroyo had photographed. In the first image of the book, Olga stands in what can only be akin to a Latinx Wonder Woman pose, with her curly, dark-hair, a thick silver bracelet, necklace of aluminum can tabs, and flexing the bicep with her right arm while her left arm is on her hip. The representation of this pose tells a story of strength and the possession of culture by the way there is a minimalist attention paid to the small things that make up facets of a culture, like hair and jewelry. In a manner which can even be called worshiping, the subjects of this book are held at such a high regard, one can quickly see how the Abuela becomes an icon of sorts where the anthology as a whole remodels the matriarch as another worldly being.

Last Rites Haiku Thirsty and gasping, she called for God and Mamà- They’re one and the same

As one can see here, the subject of linguistic and reminiscent explorations of the Abuela makes the reader and writer simultaneously discover the omnipotent force of the matriarch. Conversely, the reader is allowed to also wrestle with the complicatedness of a grandmother’s energy being both describable yet ineffable, all-powerful yet imperfect. The Abuela Stories Project works well in this way, encompassing both poetry and prose to practice the ways in which we remember people and situations. This is an exercise in constant practice where poetics finds writers consistently striving to find new ways to explore and explain what our everyday diction cannot. When one embarks on these intimate and fragile journeys of interrogation, those audiences who choose to enter the conversations end up emotionally participating in the sorting out of that memory as well. Lastly, I appreciate how The Abuela Stories Project doesn’t fall to a pitfall some poetry books succumb to when broken up into sections. That is, avoiding the temptation of sectioning off the work from one another in a way that segments each section into a project (no pun intended.) As a matter of fact, this book does quite the opposite, carrying a type of synergy from section to section. Notice how “Abuela sabe crear,” “Abuela sabe vivir,” “Abuela sabe perdonar,” “Abuela sabe renacer,” “Abuela saber sanar,” “Abuela sabe moverse,” and “Abuela sabe luchar,” which translates respectively to, “Grandmother knows how to create,” “Grandmother knows how to live,” “Grandmother knows how to forgive,” “Grandmother knows how to be reborn,” “Grandmother Knows how to heal,” “Grandmother knows how to move,” and “Grandmother knows how to fight,” all cohesively flow into one another by mentioning the matriarch first. Though it can be argued that each title is functioning as a complete sentence, which would mean the “A” in Abuela would be following proper grammatical rules for the beginning of a sentence as well as the correct rules for proper nouns, one could also argue how the capital “A” in Abuela becomes its own entity. Separate from the other words that make out each section, Abuela becomes elusive and mystifying in its anaphoric nature, being a constant pressure point repeated throughout the text where the 7 headings become declarations rather than markers. And though The Abuela Stories Project is in constant movement, in motion through an internalized voice, whether we are operating in the “I” or narration, one can still see the prevalent character types and storylines of the Latinx household through pieces that are piercingly personal. We can still see the submissive wife with the aggressive husband, the strong matriarch that puts her own life on hold for two generations of children, and a mother that walks away for bigger reasons than understood. What you fill find in The Abuela Stories Project is the power of women, the sacred feminine, engaging with daughters and granddaughters and coming to different outcomes each time. This anthology does many things well, but one of the things it does best is what it had set out to do in “the why,” and that is to praise the backbone that holds the Latinx family erect, No matter what she is called, Ita, Gamma, Grandma, Nani, Bibi, Grandmother, or Abuela, in her own words, “She just gets shit done.”