#another example of the tragic self (and tragic relationship) ultimately being more important than morals

[hellofastudysession]

am i rlly going to write a death note literary analysis when i could be doing other things

about the discourse going on in the tag abt "death note is acab and thats why the characters couldnt better the world with the note (/written in somewhat jokey matter)" vs "death note is trying to say we all have potential for evil, especially if you get a chance to insta-hurt ppl without repercussions, and it doesnt matter if youre a cop or not", i personally feel like it ignores the things that i like abt death note, which is "both of these things are true", and simultaneously "both of these things do not matter". the first part of this is dedicated to the first point, the latter to the last.

first point. i think its an important part of the message and themes (unintentional or not, and i lean on the former because... come on, can you really say the author intended you to not think of the cops as good people, at least compared to light and l) that light is a cops son, and that almost everyone who gets the death note is cop adjacent/thinks like a cop and is already corrupt/powerful when they get it (mello raised to think hed be just like l, yotsuba group is self explanatory; you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me teru "churchill" mikami, who was hand selected by light out of a bunch of rabid kira supporters, is a normal citizen). i appreciated the cop post bc its rlly important to not gloss over that aspect.

all of this would be an argument for "only someone like them would do something like this, and i am not like them, so im above them and immune to thinking about what id do with it", but... misa is the MOST important outlier in all of this bc her murders are solely selfish in nature and shes not doing any of this for "the greater good"!!! her nature of being an exception and still a very very bad person is really really important...

or it would be if death note gave a shit about her character at all!!! im not talking about her tragic side, im talking about exploring the ramifications of her killing people the way lights murders are (somewhat) explored. that would strengthen the message greatly! but shes dismissed and that weakens it overall. firstly, she's dismissed by the characters when l only sees her as a way to get to kira and basically shelves her the rest of the time. secondly, shes dismissed by the narrative when her character is gradually ground down to a stump and (not to sound perilously close to the bad takes ppl meme about) she never faces repercussions for her actions. every other character using the death note is treated relatively seriously, but misa just dies bc her love is dead. im not saying this isnt a... fitting punishment or that it isnt in character, but it doesnt fit snugly into the theme other people are talking about of "you reap what you sow" at all.

we do have something of an equivalent to misa's grayscale motives. surprise surprise, its light yagami. first is light's characterization in the musical (i will also note that misa never kills anyone in the musical). light's thinking is coplike, yes — he literally starts his first song by talking about "throw[ing] away the key" — but also, oddly enough, could be read as progressive and therefore sympathetic to tumblr ("let the corporations make the regulations / and hold no one accountable when everything gets wrong / let the rich and famous get away with murder / every time a high-priced mouthpiece starts to talk, his client gets to walk"). compare to the anime and manga, where his bigotry and pride and disgust come from a place of lukewarm dissatisfaction and boredom. the musical has much less time to play around with lights character, so it gives the audience something to immediately hook on. more on how that actually plays out later.

in the animanga, none of this is justified from the start. animanga light could say he was just killing people to make humanity way, way worse, and that wouldnt matter, because at the root of it, it was always his boredom that made him pick up the note. of course he actually believes in justice and believes hes doing the right thing (no, he believes he's doing the wrong thing, for the sake of the world... the right thing, because he is god...), but it was boredom at the start. all animanga light says about justice and righteousness and the law is a front in the end, bc he is exactly like l and misa — amoral. selfish. searching for entertainment. hedonistic. we know this. he kills naomi misora*. he kills lind l. turner. everything hes saying deserves to be dismissed from the beginning.

"but doesnt that mean you agree with the discourse post you wrote this post to argue against?" like i said, i agree with both of them! but i... still think its not right to reduce death note to the message of "the power to kill people is bad". because that is not exactly what the story is saying, even though that's literally its whole plot and therefore reaching that conclusion is self explanatory (lmao). let's look at the concept of mu. nothingness. "there's no heaven or hell". The Real Slay The Princess (Death Note Essay) Starts Here.

in light's final moments in the death note manga, while screaming about not wanting to die, he remembers that the first day they met, ryuk told light that "there's no heaven or hell. no matter what they do in life, all people go to the same place. all humans are equal in death". it is retroactively revealed that light knew this the whole time, operated under this knowledge for all the years we watched him — the knowledge that nothing he does is actually bad, that nothing any human does is actually bad, that shinigami are not "evil", that the universe does not care. that no one cares except humans. this oblivion absolutely terrifies him more than anything anyone could ever do to him. its what he thinks of before anything else as he flails there, screaming, dying. one could say everything he does after that day is him trying to escape that fact, or wrest control over it. but it doesnt work.

here are the lyrics of requiem, the musical's final song, sung over the bodies of l and musical light, a light who was at least somewhat good-intentioned at first: "sleep now, here among your choices / then fade away / hear how the world rejoices / shades of gray / gone who was right or wrong / who was weak or strong / nothing left to learn". this is the final message the death note musical and the manga chose to leave us with. there is no judgement. even after all that acknowledged hurt, after all the damage done, there is no judgement.

in the manga and anime alike, the world is just as fucked when light picks up the death note as when he dies. sure, we as readers can guess otherwise logically (and be optimistic, believing the world was never fucked regardless), but that's not what death note wants you to think. it ends with matsuda and another member of the task force noting how the world is worse again even though they killed kira (matsuda is clearly much worse for wear, but still determined), we see the shitty motorcycle band again, it ends with misa and a whole kira cult on a mountain even though kira died a long time ago...

its extremely important that light is never killed by any human or any aspect of the law. he is always killed by ryuk: a chaotic force completely detached from human sensibilities, one that does not care about good and evil. same with l; in the anime, manga, and musical, he is always killed by rems senseless, morally gray love (and you could argue in the kdrama that hes killed by love there too lol). justice is just a set dressing.

this is not just because death note is a tragedy, because good and evil can still matter in a tragedy. the theme of "nothingness" and "good and evil doesnt matter here" is also shown in a situation relatively unrelated to light winning or losing, or being good or bad. and its in fucking lawlight of all things. we all know ls not a good person. we know lights not a good person. this is tip of the iceberg death note knowledge. but the moment they start to interact, none of that starts to matter. textually, their relationship becomes more important than the people theyve killed and hurt. and the thing is? the thing is? THAT WORKS STORY-WISE. THAT'S ENTERTAINING. AND IT'S NEVER TEXTUALLY CALLED OUT IN A LASTING WAY. l and lights relationship, no matter how much i meme it, is genuinely important to the themes and "mu" because it makes it clear that despite all the pretensions, despite everything, this was never about good and evil. and it still works in the story. this is why death note is simultaneously a comedy — isn't the battle of good and evil supposed to matter more? well, fine, i'll keep watching this anyway. that suspension of disbelief comes crashing down the moment l dies, though, and a relationship built on nothingness (the "mu" sort, meaninglessness, not "character development" nothingness, theres plenty of character development) gives way to just nothingness (again, "mu", not light's post-l depression nothingness), forever.

(an aside: there is no one to root for in death note, and the only things to root for are either interesting character relationships, convoluted plots, or complete and total destruction: for everything to end so no more damage is done.)

not to say that death note does not encourage its readers to consider what damage they might do with the death note (obviously.), or that its characters never do. look at matsuda, a much easier heroic figure to latch on to than soichiro because of his unique place in the cast dynamic and because he's willing to consider both sides of the situation and kill light instantly for all he's done. its just that the story's own stance on the subject is... complicated by the existence of shinigami worldviews and by its own insistence that the world cannot change for the better.

also, this is not to say that this is executed well by the death note manga at all. it is a very strong tool, artistically, to establish and then violently remove any emotional connections between characters and make your story only about the exceedingly convoluted lengths characters go to to survive and catch each other so the reader can realize how ultimately pointless all of this is, but like... is that a good story choice if that's all you do? i would say not really. add in a good dollop of misogyny that destroys the second-to-last character who might actually be an interesting contrast to the rest of the cast's dull one-track focus on winning and justice, and youve got yourself a shitty story that... honestly still achieves what it went out to do, just not in a way id ever want to replicate.

anyway, back to the parts death note's actually trying to say. no matter what any human does in their life, no matter how they try to hurt or help the world, they all die in the end. hey, light, they all die in the end. once dead, they can never come back to life. and the seasons turn. and the world rejoices. and you say "goodbye"...

that's all.

no analysis of death notes overarching theme would be complete without nears final monologue, the definitive roast of light, the "you're just a murderer" speech: "what is right from wrong? what is good from evil? nobody can truly distinguish between them. even if there is a god." if we take this as talking about the actual god in the room (ryuk) as well as light, then near admits that humans will never be able to withstand these overwhelming forces and that, using justice and happiness and selfishness, they are just scrabbling to find meaning in things they ultimately have no control over.

but of course, near does not stop there. "[...] even then i'd stop and think for myself. i'd decide for myself whether his teachings are right and wrong." nears alright with not having control over everything, because near can still control nears own actions. these forces can and do exist, but they have no sway over nears own humanity — unlike light, who caved.

one of the creators of death note said they believe its message is "life is short, so everyone should do their best". the first time i learned this, i was like, thats... nice and optimistic, but an awful reading of the story! "life is short, so everyone should be desperate and striving like light yagami", who literally cut off other ppls lives for his own life? what character in death note are we supposed to strive towards when we "do our best"? they all do awful things with their lives! honestly, maybe they shouldnt have tried their best, if this is what their best is!

but with the view of "mu"... it makes a bit more sense. just a little. maybe.

there is no good and evil. there is only what humans think, and no matter what we do, we all die in the end. it is easy to be crushed and terrified by this in the same way light is, but what is more important than justice and righteousness and finding meaning is... doing your best. not being a person that hurts others too much. not letting yourself get swallowed up by an ideal. not going too far. and simultaneously, trusting yourself.

it leaves a few questions, though... was the currently dead l even a little bit right about his blatantly amoral approach, then? was there a point to this pain, and me slogging through this dumbass manga, and all the people that have lost their lives to a selfish teenage cop's son and the whims of everyone chasing after him? was there a point to any of this...?

the manga** never answers this. it stays clinically impartial until the very end. the musical is anything but clinically impartial (and i love it so much for that), and its ryuk that has the last word.

"there's no point at all."

of course theres no point. none of this was ever supposed to happen. that is what matters more than all the hurt and the crimes and the pain.

and that's... actually okay, because it's over now.

yes, death note has many really important themes present in its story, but its viewpoint is nihilism first and foremost. thats why its so fun and easy to play around with all the other messages, because no matter what fun or torment or awful things or righteous justice or absolute nothingness or sentimentality happens in between, there is always an end.

there is always the end.

[sunnyxdani]

kenlee: a 4 part analysis

Analyzing one of my favorite ships that I have very suddenly grown very hyperfixated on. Lee and Kenny are partners in crime, frenemies, a variety of things to each other based on what the player decides. Season 1 is notorious for none of your choices impacting anything because there’s only 1 ending no matter what. Yet, genuinely one of the only examples of your choices actually mattering is through Lee's relationship with Kenny. Their dynamic is given more attention and effort and detail than anything else in the game, even more than Lee and Clementines (as far as how it can differ based on how you play). There are also countless tender moments, looks, and words shared between the two that I’ve grown to interpret as more than friendly the more I’ve replayed the game. However, this analysis will break down more tangible moments throughout the game.

Part 1: What Lee and Kenny’s Dynamic is

Lee and Kenny are the classic but tragic “never got to tell them how I felt” trope. Due to many factors, their feelings for each other were something that they only had themselves to rely on and carry the burden of. This even resulted in tension in resentment towards one another. From the overwhelming apocalyptic state of the world, to Kenny having a wife and kid, to the both of them most likely not being comfortable exploring their sexuality– so many odds were stacked against them. Ultimately, they were in a predicament where they could’ve confronted their feelings for each other if they were given more time. But, the two men only knew each other for a handful of months before their separation.

While most of the obstacles that got in the two’s way were external, Lee and Kenny, Kenny in particular, also got in their own way very often. One of the main ongoing plot points within season 1 is that Kenny and Lilly both have a different way of leading and Lee is stuck in the middle. Along with this, Lee is generally put in a lot of difficult situations with Kenny, as Kenny sees him as his right hand man and takes it very personally whenever Lee disagrees with him on something. Now, what I’m about to say next is my own opinion and anyone reading is allowed to disagree but, I personally think that the version of Lee and Kenny’s relationship that’s the least accurate is the one where Lee agrees with every single one of Kenny’s actions and has Kenny as an immovable pillar of support. This is because I’ve always interpreted the most canon version of Lee to be the one who tries his best to take the moral high ground, which Kenny arguably doesn’t always do. So, as off-balanced and unhealthy as their relationship turns out when Lee sticks to these morals, I do think it’s important to what Kenny and Lee’s true and honest dynamic is— after all, they’re foils to one another.

Something that’s important to address is how much Kenny cares what Lee thinks— more specifically, what Lee thinks of Kenny. This is something that Kenny has shown time and time again to agonize over. As far as the first season goes, generally anyone could disagree with Kenny and he would feel more inclined to brush it off and carry on because he knew that, to him, he was right— except for when it comes to Lee. Whenever Lee expresses disagreement or disapproval in something that Kenny is doing, Kenny is beside himself. He rages at Lee, tries to convince him to see things his way, holds a grudge towards him, and overall gives the other man a very emotionally heated response. My belief is that Lee is someone Kenny admires and looks up to to a degree. Because of this, whenever him and Lee differ on something, it forces Kenny to self-reflect and reevaluate his own actions and values, which Kenny isn’t comfortable with doing. Furthermore, he’s also convinced himself that Lee thinks less of him as a person everytime the two don’t see eye to eye on something, which Kenny could not bear. To cope with all of this, he tries to bring himself to hate Lee instead.

So, how do Lee and his feelings play into this? The way I see it, Lee is the only person who sees the hurt behind Kenny’s actions, the good intention behind Kenny’s actions, and can understand the man even when he doesn’t agree with him— the only one besides Katjaa, of course, which isn’t for nothing. As someone who was on his way to jail for murder a day before meeting Kenny, he understands expressing anger through aggression, feeling betrayed by someone you love, making mistakes that can’t be undone, etc. better than anyone. And while he’s not proud of those things, he came out of the situation feeling as though he has no right to judge anybody, so he doesn’t dare judge Kenny. That being said, he hopes and tries to assist Kenny in working past his demons the way that Lee was able to. He sees the great traits within Kenny— his ability to lead, his passion for what he believes in, his diehard efforts to protect his family— and believes that those things are capable of defining him instead of the bad. (long story short he thinks he can fix him y’all sorry)

Part 2: How Their Interactions Mirror one of Two People in a Relationship

This next section is going to be dedicated to a variety of examples that showcase my point that Kenny and Lee’s relationship was written a lot more intimately and a lot less “bro” like than there’s any excuse for. These are all instances that fail to add up completely unless you switch the perspective from platonic to romantic.

What I believe to be the strongest example of this is when Lee finally faces the stranger in the season 1 finale. The stranger asks Lee, “Have you ever hurt somebody that you care about?” and it prompts three options for the player to choose from. The first option is his wife, and the second option is Clementine who is essentially a daughter to Lee. These options make complete sense, especially since this question is followed by the stranger sharing how he hurt and lost his children and wife. The third option, however, is Kenny. This option sticks out like a sore thumb to me because it just doesn’t really fit quite right as the placeholder “friend” option. If Kenny was Lee’s childhood friend, or even college friend, or any context where they had a long standing history with each other that started before the apocalypse, I don’t think I would’ve bat an eye to it. It’s like how if (I don’t watch the show so if this ends up making no sense forgive me) Rick gave Shane as an answer, I wouldn’t have questioned it. Lee and Kenny only knew each other for around 5 months, though. Additionally, the only things Lee did to “hurt” Kenny was by personally hurting his feelings whenever he had a differing opinion as him. The way that Lee speaks about the entire situation in hindsight just feels a lot deeper and much more nuanced than a friendship.

Additionally, when the crew are all stuck in the attic together, Lee is having a conversation with Christa and Omid where he reveals who he’d like to take care of Clementine if he didn’t make it. The options are either Christa and Omid themselves, Kenny, or to find a different family to take care of Clementine. Kenny’s always been my favorite character, so the first couple of times I played this game I chose him based solely on bias. As I got older, though, the option of Kenny once again felt out of place for me. Lee is capable of choosing between a healthy stable young adult couple with good heads on their shoulders who want to raise a kid anyway… or Kenny. It’s not an even comparison at all– unless Kenny was Lee’s partner, then asking Kenny to look after Clementine in his absence would make perfect sense.

This one has been pointed out various times by shippers, but I’m going to mention it anyway because I think The Walking Dead Game’s writers are brilliant and that very little of their dialogue can be brushed off as an ‘accident’ or ‘coincidence.’ Throughout the game, only three people refer to Kenny with the nickname ‘Ken’: Katjaa, Sarita, and Lee. Do I think TWDG writers added this with the purpose of hinting at Lee and Kenny having a romantic relationship? No. However, I do think this was done intentionally to emphasize the level of closeness between the two, and I find it interesting that they went about it by giving Lee a habit that only Kenny’s wife and Kenny’s girlfriend could share with him. In other words, it feels like these two characters were coded without the game even realizing what they were doing– not like I’m complaining.

Part 3: How They’re More to Each Other Than They Are to Their Canon Love Interests

I’ve given examples of when the story has treated Lee as though he’s equal to Katjaa and Sarita in Kenny’s eyes. However, there is also evidence of Lee being held closer to Kenny than Katjaa or Sarita– same goes for Lee, as there’s an argument to be made that he held Kenny in a deeper regard than he did Carley. I want to preface this by saying, I am not here to pit Kenny and Katjaa against each other and don’t think it’s necessary to advocate for this ship. I myself love Katjaa as a character, and I also know and believe that Kenny loved Katjaa deeply. Sarita is a different story, and I could go on my whole tangent about how she was only put in the story as a plot device to drive a wedge between Kenny and Clementine, but I won’t. I’m also a fan of Lee and Carley as a ship, and a big multishipper in general, so please do not misunderstand this as me invalidating any other pairing.

When Carley (who canonically was Lee’s hinted at or potential love interest) was shot in the face right in front of Lee, he was considerably okay. All of his energy was put into disciplining Lily, but as far as Carley’s death itself, he didn’t really give much of a reaction. He had watched so much death at the point that it seemed like he was starting to get somewhat desensitized to it. When Kenny “died”, however– because remember, he never actually saw it, but just the mere thought of Kenny dying had Lee torn up in a way we hadn’t seen throughout the entire game. He took a beat to kneel over, exclaimed and cursed to himself, and was incredibly somber from that point on. There are even dialogue options for him to get snappy at Omid and Christa about the matter right after, making it abundantly clear how sore he’s left from it.

Kenny, on the other hand, mentioned, reminisced about, or blatantly said that he missed Lee on multiple occasions. He had only really mentioned Katjaa once in season 2 (from what I can recall), and one could argue that it was out of respect for Sarita, which is fair. This brings me back to what I touched on earlier about Sarita, which is that I feel she’s a placeholder– for both the story and for Kenny. He seemed excited to be with someone again, to have someone to hold at night, and to have the void of loneliness filled more than he seemed connected to Sarita as a person (hence him saying “I won’t be left alone again” as Sarita was dying–felt like the reminder of his past trauma was what was hurting him in the moment if anything). He, in my opinion, genuinely had the most connection or a dynamic that feels the most like a relationship on paper with Lee than any other character in the game.

Part 4: What Made Their Parting so Tragic/Their ‘Confession’

Seeing the scene for yourselves is a lot easier and much more effective than me trying to explain how it went, so refresh your memory with the video linked below:

If I had to pinpoint a part of the game that felt like an admission of feelings between the two, I’d say it was the moment during their separation, which is painful enough in itself. The few words that were exchanged by them in that moment, as well as the context of Kenny sacrificing himself and Lee fighting to convince him not to, felt like they were conveying everything they were feeling but couldn’t bring themselves to say directly. Along with this, Kenny let go of his complex towards Lee in that moment. He finally stopped feeling threatened and belittled by Lee’s unwavering goodness and, in Carley’s words, took a page from his book. That’s the silver lining of this moment– Kenny finally made a decision that he wouldn’t live in regret about.

Lee, on the other hand, died thinking that Kenny was dead. My best friend pointed out how, in Lee’s final moments, he probably thought about how he’d get to see Kenny again, not knowing that Kenny was perfectly fine. That just about broke my heart. What’s even more heartbreaking, though, is what would’ve been going through Kenny’s mind if Lee had cut his arm off. He disappears with the possibility of Lee still being alive hanging over him, agonizing over not being able to find him again– especially by the time he met up with Walter, Matthew and Sarita, as he probably encountered or heard stories about people who survived bites by cutting off their limbs by then. Once he reunited with Clementine and saw that Lee wasn’t with her, he was then forced to face his death.

In conclusion, I interpret Lee and Kenny to without a doubt have feelings for each other, but I believe they never got an opportunity to act on them. Their love story ends with Lee dead, and Kenny left agonizing over what could’ve been. It’s not a happy story at all, but that’s what makes it so good… and if there are any modern AU fics of them out there please send them my way because I am in misery. Again, this is all simply my opinion and I do not care enough to argue about it, though I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts! Even differing ones given that you’re being respectful :)

[likealittleheartbeat]

I deeply appreciate how ATLA depicts all the main characters responses to trauma. Aang’s, for me, however, stands out for its rareness in media. And we are not hammered over the head with the idea that Aang (or any other characters) repeatedly act certain ways because of a single traumatic event. Sure, there are key moments in our lives when a certain event comes to the forefront, but no one experiences the world as constant flashbacks. Rather, we see only in retrospect the way our sarcastic sense of humor or our heightened friendliness were protective responses to a deep emotional injury. Being able to understand Aang’s approach to loss is essential for the show. The structure of the series is founded on his arc (despite an incredible foil provided by Zuko). Our little air nomad initially confronts the loss of his people with a full-on meltdown in the episode “The Southern Air Temple,” where Katara’s offering of familial belonging soothes him. But this kind of outburst is not Aang’s primary response (and actually the literally out-of-character apocalyptic tantrums align with Aang’s overall process of grieving). Instead of constantly brooding (hey Zuko!), Aang leans heavily toward the monk’s pacifist teachings and toward his assumed destiny “to save the world.” He becomes overtly accommodating and joyful, constantly trying to see “the good” in everything with a perfectionist’s zeal. This is not to ascribe his bubbliness only to his trauma. Rather, he comes to emphasize this part of his personality for reasons related to the negative emotions he struggles to face.  Book 1: Water

In the first season, Aang is simply rediscovering his place in the world. “Water is the element of change. The people of the water tribe are capable of adapting to many things. They have a sense of community and love that holds them together.” This is vital to Aang as he initially faces his experience. He won’t get through this if he is not prepared for his life to change. Even if he hadn’t been frozen for 100 years, his world would never be the same. This fact involves eventually finding new people that he feels safe with. After such a massive loss, he’s learning who to trust, and also often making mistakes; not only does he find Sokka and Katara (and I’d argue he’s actually slow to truly open up to them), this is the season where he helps save a fire nation citizen who betrays him to soldiers, befriends the rebel extremist Jet, and attempts to befriend an actively belligerent Zuko (his moral complexity had only JUST! been revealed to the kid!). He’s constantly offering trust to others and seeking their approval in opposition to the deep well of shame and guilt he carries as a survivor of violence. This is also the season where Aang swears off firebending after burning Katara in an overeager attempt to master the element (one will note how fire throughout the series is aligned with, above all else, assertiveness and yang). Aang is so eager to be seen as morally good to others that he refuses to risk any possible harm to them.  And asserting himself carries a danger, in one sense, that he might make a mistake and lose someone’s positive regard, and, in another sense, that he is replicating the anger and violence he’s witnessed. He has no relationship to his anger at this stage of his grief, so it comes out uncontrollably, both in firebending and the Avatar State. It’s through the patience of his new family that he can begin to feel unashamed about his past and about the ways his shame is finding (sometimes violent) expression in the present. Book 2: Earth In the second season he begins to trust himself and stand his ground. Earth, after all, is the element of substance, persistence, and endurance. The “Bitter Work” episode encapsulates how Aang must come to a more sturdy sense of his values. First, there is the transition of pedagogical style. While Katara emphasized support and kindness, Toph insists on blunt and threatening instruction, not for a lack of care towards Aang. Instead, it’s so Aang learns how to stop placing the desires of others above his own--to stop accommodating everyone else above his own needs. Toph taunts Aang by stealing one of the few keepsakes from the monastery that he holds onto. This attachment to the lost airbending culture is echoed in the larger arc with Appa. And, by the end of this episode, it is Aang’s attachment to Sokka that allows him to stand firm. This foreshadows the capital T Tragic downfall in the “Crossroads of Destiny.” Aang gives up his attachment to the other member of his new found family, Katara, despite his moral qualms. Although he has access to all the power of the Avatar state, his sacrifice is not rewarded. Season 2 illustrates Aang coming to terms with his values. He is learning about what he stands for, what holds meaning to him. Understanding himself also includes integrating his grief, and there’s a lonely and dangerous aspect to that exploration. We see Aang’s anger and hopelessness over longer stretches rather than outbursts in this season. It’s hard to watch and hard to root for him. That depressive state leads to actions that counter his previous sense of morality, as he decisively kills an animal, treats his friends unkindly, and blames others for his loss. Letting these harsher feelings emerge is an experiment, and most people discover their boundaries by crossing them. Finding ways to hold compassion for himself, even the harm he causes others, is the other side of this process. Our past and our challenging emotions are a part of us, but they are only a part. Since Aang now has a strong sense of community and is learning to be himself rather than simply seeking validation, we also see him having more healthy boundaries with new people. He’s no longer befriending villains in the second season! He’s respectful and trusting enough, but he’s not putting himself in vulnerable situations nor blindly trusting everyone. Instead, he’s more likely to listen to his friends’ opinions or think about how the monks might’ve been critical towards something (they’re complaints about Ba Sing Se, for example). By knowing what he cares for, he can know himself, the powerful, loving, grief-struck monk. And he can trust that, though he might not be everyone’s favorite person, he does not need to feel ashamed or guilty for who he is or what he’s been through. Book 3: Fire However, despite a sense of self and a sense of belonging, Aang and the group still find themselves constantly asking for permission throughout their time in Ba Sing Se. It’s in the third season, Fire, that initiative and assertiveness become the focus. And who better to provide guidance in this than the official prince of “you never think these things through,” Zuko. It’s no longer a time for avoidance or sturdy defensiveness. It is the season of action. Fire is the element of power, desire, and will, all of which require us to impact others.  We see the motif of initiative throughout the season: the rebels attempt to storm the Firelord on the Day of the Black Sun; Aang attempts to share his feelings and kiss Katara; Katara bends Hama and a couple of fire nation soldiers to her will. In each of these examples, the initiators face disgrace. Positive intent does not bring forth success, by any means, only more consequences to be dealt with. This is perhaps Aang’s biggest challenge. He is afraid that his actions will fail, or worse, they will succeed but he will be wrong in what he has chosen. The sequencing in the series, here, is important. We have already seen how Aang has worked to care for (and appreciate) the well-being of others and how he has learned to care for his own needs. With this in mind, he should be able to trust that his actions will derive from these wells of compassion. But easier said than done. Compassion can also trap him into indecision, hearkening back to his avoidant mistake in the storm, in which the whole mess began. Aang’s internal conflict, here, becomes more pronounced as the finale draws nearer. I think it’s especially significant that we witness Aang disagreeing with his mentors and friends. He must act in a way that will contradict and even threaten his sources of support if he is to trust his own desires. Even the fandom disagrees about the choice Aang makes, which further highlights the fact that making a decisive choice is contentious. There is no point in believing it will grant you love or admiration or success. For someone who began (and spent much of) the series regularly sacrificing himself just to bring others peace, Aang’s decision to prioritize his own interests despite the very explicit possibility of failure is the ultimate growth his character can have and the ultimate representation of him processing his trauma. (This arc was echoed and made even more explicit in many ways with Adora in the She-ra finale.) The last significant time Aang followed his desire, in his mind, was when he escaped the Air Temple in the storm. To want something, to trust his desire and act on it, is an act of incredible courage for him, and whether it succeeded or failed, whether anyone agrees or disagrees with it, it offered Aang a sense of peace and resolution. Now I appreciate and love Zuko’s iconic redemption arc, but Aang’s subtler arc, which subverts the “chosen one” narrative and broke ground to represent a prevalent emotional experience, stands out to me as the foundation for the show I love so much.

[jonsa101]

Max Goodwin and Randall Pearson: The Well-Meaning, Incredibly Self-Centered Leading Men We’ve Grown to Love.

Hey fam! Like I said, I’ve been writing a ton of meta lately and this is another one that’s just been sitting in my drafts. It’s basically a This Is Us and a New Amsterdam meta which is something I haven’t done before but something I want do more of. In my Game of Thrones days I used to write a lot of meta about shows and characters that had similarities so this is fun for me. I hope y’all enjoy this. ALSO THIS HAS SPOILERS FOR BOTH SHOWS!!!!!!!

Without a doubt the two most popular shows on NBC is This is Us and New Amsterdam. And what’s not to love? They’re both emotionally driven, heartfelt, shows that focus on incredibly deep and complex topics. Though one show focuses on family dynamics and the other focuses on the healthcare system, these shows are very similar in more ways than one. Case in point, Max Goodwin and Randall Pearson. The more I watch these two shows, the more I realize how these two characters are so alike!!! These two men are kind-hearted, well intentioned, individuals who genuinely want to make some sort of positive difference. They are incredibly ambitious and always have “bright ideas” and “goals” they want to accomplish and somehow they’re able to meet those goals without ever having to sacrifice their wants and needs. By every definition these men are the “main characters” or the ultimate “protagonists.” These are the folks that we are supposed to root for. At the same time, though these men have many traits to be admired, when you truly look at it both of them can be incredibly self centered and selfish especially when it pertains to their romantic partners and love interests. No matter how appealing you make these characters out to be these men clearly fall under the Behind Every Great Man trope.

The Behind Every Great Man trope has been used countless of times throughout Cinema and TV History that I’m sure that I don’t even have to explain it to you but for the sake of this meta this is how it’s defined.

“Behind Every Great Man...stands an even greater woman! Or in about a hundred variations is a Stock Phrase referring to how people rarely achieve greatness without support structures that go generally unappreciated, and said support structure is a traditionally female role via being the wife, mother, or sometimes another relation. This trope is specifically about a man who is credited with something important, but owes much of his success to the woman in his life.”

This trope usually has a negative connotation (and rightfully so) because the man who often benefits from this is an asshole and unworthy of this type of support!

For example:

Oliva and Fitz

Cristina Yang and Burke

Cookie and Lucious

Ghost and Tasha

There are countless others but these are a few of the couples that come to mind for me. Randall and Max aren’t comparable to any of these men that are listed above but they are still operating under the same trope. It just looks nicer because Max and Randall are inherently good and inspirational. They are the heroes of the story. I would even argue and say that both men fall under the Chronic Hero Syndrome trope which is defined as

“Chronic Hero Syndrome is an "affliction" of cleaner heroes where for them, every wrong within earshot must be righted, and everyone in need must be helped, preferably by Our Hero themself. While certainly admirable, this may have a few negative side-effects on the hero and those around them. Such heroes could wear themselves out in their attempts to help everyone or become distraught and blame themselves for the one time that they're unable to save the day. Spending so much time and effort saving everyone else can also put a strain on the hero's personal or dating life.”

Just because Max and Randall have these incredibly inspiring aspirations, is it fair that their wives and love interests are always expected to rise to the occasion and support them. Is it ok for their partners to continuously sacrifice their wants and needs because they love these men? 

Let’s dive into it. 

Truth be told, Beth Pearson, Helen Sharpe and Georgia Goodwin had to endure a GREAT DEAL to emotionally support the dreams and aspirations of these men while sacrificing so much of themselves in the process. In media we often see women sacrificing so much of their wants and needs out of love for these male leads and rarely do men do the same thing for their romantic partners and love interests. All three of these women clearly fall under the Act of True Love trope defined as

“The Act of True Love proves beyond doubt that you are ready to put your loved one's interests before your own, that you are truly loyal and devoted to them. Usually this involves a sacrifice on your part, at the very least a considerable effort and/or a great risk. The action must be motivated, not by morals or principle or expectation of future reward, but by sheer personal affection.When your beloved is in dire need of your help, or in great danger, and you do something, at great expense to yourself, for the sake of their safety, their welfare, or their happiness, thus proving beyond any doubt that you put their interest ahead of yours.”

Over the past few seasons we have seen all three of these women truly live up to this trope without any true consequences or accountability from the men they’re making all these sacrifices for. For example, in Beth and Randall’s marriage, how many times did Randall spring an idea on Beth without truly talking to her or considering her wants first? Everyone thinks these two are an ideal couple but she has endured A LOT for Randall.

Randall has spontaneously quit his job, moved his dying biological dad into their home, bought his biological dad’s old apartment building, fostered and adopted a child and also ran for city councilman outside of his district. In all of these decisions, Randall “consulted” Beth about it but at the same time didn’t really consult her. In a way there has always been this expectation of Beth to just go along for the ride with what Randall wants. Is anyone else exhausted from reading that list?! That’s a lot for partner to endure and lovingly support. But Beth has endured and has been Randall’s rock through it all!!! What worries me is that the one time Beth spoke out about her wants and needs of pursuing dance again, he couldn’t match the same energy she was giving him and eventually it led to world war three between them. Though things are looking up in their relationship  and he’s starting to support her more, has Randall nearly given to Beth as much as she’s given to him? Absolutely not!

Similar to Randall, Max also had a wife who was a dancer. in fact, she was a prima ballerina. Unlike Randall and Beth, Max relationship with Georgia was rocky from the start. When we were first introduced to them Max and Georgia were separated and rightfully so. Georgia was never Max’s first priority. The hospital always came first in their relationship. He couldn’t even dedicate a full night to her for their proposal. In order to “save” their marriage they decide to have a baby and they both committed to taking a step back in their careers in order to do so. The problem was Max didn’t keep his side of their commitment and took a job to become the medical director at the biggest public hospital in the U.S. She gave up her career to start a family and he totally and completely betrayed her trust. So throughout season one we see them trying to rebuild their marriage but even in the midst of trying to rebuild a marriage based on trust and mutual respect Max still keeps things from Georgia. For several episodes he didn’t tell her that he had advance stages of throat cancer. He only told her when Georgia asked him to move back home. That’s fucked up! Then throughout their pregnancy he was never fully there for Georgia because he was either to preoccupied with the hospital or himself. At the end of it all, Georgia died tragically at the beginning of season two and really had nothing to show for it in her relationship with Max other than her daughter Luna.

Now let’s bring Helen Sharpe into the fold. While all of this stuff was going on with Max and his wife in season one, Max was developing a deep friendship, borderline emotional affair with Helen. Their relationship started out with Helen being his oncologist. As the new Medical Director of New Amsterdam, he swore Helen to secrecy about his diagnosis so that he could still run the hospital. Through that secrecy they eventually formed a deep bond but as his cancer got worse his secret was let out of the bag. He realistically needed someone to step up and run the hospital when he was going through chemo and though Helen already had commitments she stepped up and became his deputy medical director. Somewhere along the lines Max and Helen started developing feelings for each other. As Helen becomes aware of those feelings, she made a choice and decides to remove herself as Max’s doctor. He BITCHES about it but eventually accepts the boundary she’s clearly trying to set. Mind you, as this is unfolding, like Max, Helen is also in a new relationship with her boyfriend Panthaki. As Max’s cancer seems to be getting worse with his new doctor, she goes back on her boundary and decides to be his doctor again. This pisses her boyfriend off because he could already peep the vibe between them and he breaks up with her. When we get into season two, Max’s wife died and Helen set him up in a clinical trail (with a doctor she previously fired) that’s helping his cancer.  Unbeknownst to Max, this doctor ends up holding his life saving treatment plan over Helen’s head and in order for his treatment to continue she gives this doctor half of her department!

Helen has sacrificed a lot for Max and now in season three she’s finally prioritizing her current wants and needs first! Like Randall, Max is starting to turn a page and is starting to support Helen and truly listen to the wants and needs that she has. All of this is good but my question is did any of these women have to sacrifice so much for the men in their lives to get a clue?

Why is it that this is a trope we see in media time and time and time again? Even if these men are good, why don’t we still keep these male characters accountable when they put their significant others in these situations that are clearly not fair? I’ve watched countless tv shows and I’ve seen a lot of tv couples but I think I have only come across one couple where the male counterpart has selflessly loved his significant other and has always put her needs above his own. 

That character my friend is none other than PACEY WITTER

I might be mistaken but I think Joey and Pacey are the most popular ship in tv history and honestly, rightfully so! This is only example I can think of where the male in the relationship so willingly puts the wants and needs of his partner first. It is a completely selfless and sacrificial love. He never wants to hold her back and he never asks her to compromise her wants or needs for him. That’s why I think so many women love Pacey because in a sea of TV relationships, Pacey Witter is a fucking unicorn.

So to wrap this up does this mean that I hate Randall Pearson or Max Goodwin? No! I adore them. I love both of their characters so much. I just think that when we see the media continuously play out the sacrificial wife/love interest for the sake of their male counterparts, it should be called out. I’m all about sacrificial and selfless love but it should come from both sides.❤️❤️❤️

Anyway I hope y’all enjoy this! As always my DMs are opening here or on Twitter @oyindaodewale

[woffordswords]

NieR Replicant (Part 2: Themes of Violence and Sacrifice)

In part 1, I examined the doubled narrative form of NieR and suggested that it makes sense to consider the significance of this form as a negotiation of a contemporary desire for stories that exist between myth (timeless, cyclical, and essential) and history (chronological, linear, and causal). In part 2, I wish to deal more directly with some of the themes that began to emerge in my overview of the game’s story in part 1. In my opinion, NieR is notable in the context of contemporary AAA games (big budget games published by one of the industries major publishers) because of it’s concern with the meanings of human behavior. In particular, NieR explores forms of behavior that are commonplace in gaming, but are not often interrogated or placed at the center of gaming narratives. Chief among it’s concerns are the boundaries between the self and other, notably in terms of questions of the distinction between selfish and selfless behaviors. Furthermore, violence and violent impulses are held up and acknowledged as a central aspect of the human character, something that is complex and meaningful and deserving of more careful consideration than what it usually receives in video games, especially given its predominance as a mode of interaction across a wide range of genres.

Starting with the latter, violence in video games is typically treated in one of two ways. Typically it is adopted and embraced as the primary mode of interaction in many games due to it’s exhilarating and demanding forms. In these games, little attention is typically given to the reasons behind engaging in violent behavior or the consequences of such actions. External discourses often celebrate these games as an appropriate release for violent and aggressive impulses that allow the related urges to be sublimated in daily life. Alternatively, critics argue that frequent exposure to violence in these games, especially among children, can lead to an increase in the prevalence of aggressive impulses and a narrowing comprehension of the range of possibilities through which people can interact with others and resolve our conflicts with them. 

Violence in video games is typically not scrutinized by the games themselves. It is a means to an end, a way to achieving an engaging interactive experience that emphasizes skill, strategy, and dexterity. However, the alternative trend has been to engage with the critique of violence in video games outlined above in order to tell stories about characters whose violent impulses detract from their ability to function as empathetic, rational, well rounded human beings as well as to present the possibility of desirable alternatives. Two good examples of this sort of game that are roughly contemporary with NieR are the critical darlings Spec Ops: The Line and Undertale.

NieR takes a slightly different tact. Although it too features characters who succumb to violent impulses and are limited and even potentially damaged by the effect of engaging in such behavior, rather than condemn the behavior and the characters who perform it or suggest and provide the opportunity for alternatives, NieR considers violence as a necessary and even essential aspect of a cyclical pattern of behavior that in some ways defines for the game what it means to be human. In other words, the game neither celebrates nor criticizes violence, but instead provides a compelling framework for understanding it that allows us to consider the significance of violence in human nature and contemporary history, as well as in our own behaviors as players of violent video games.

The role that violence plays in NieR is initially one connected to a collectivities prospects for survival. The first creature that the player kills in the game are sheep who wander the plains just north of the protagonist’s village. Killing for food quickly becomes killing for protection as the player is informed of an attack by Shades on a group of human workers attempting to rebuild a bridge that connects several human settlements to the player’s village. From there, killing gradually shifts from something protective and retaliatory to something proactive, capable of fostering greater powers for the protagonist. Once the player has teamed up with Grimoire Weiss and the idea that Shades contain within them “sealed verses”, capable of augmenting the players magical powers and brining an end to the disease that plagues his people, the Shades shift in significance from a menace to resource that must be culled in order to be harvested. The old excuse about needing to protect and/or avenge people still presents itself at different moments of the game, but the player hardly needs a reason to kill. Their violence becomes indiscriminately targeted towards an entire population of creatures, even those that seem to serve no immediate threat and whose elimination fosters the completion of no immediate goal. This process of gradual abstraction where killing becomes detached from more immediate causes and broadly justified by a totalizing mission is a pattern that can be found throughout history, but can immediately and obviously connected with the war on terrorism that Western countries have been waging for the last quarter century.

Along with this evolving rationale for enacting it, violence in NieR also can be connected with a general ignorance and obliviousness to the world one lives in. Throughout the game, strange and unique situations that range from the seemingly evolving intelligence of the shades to the existence of strange and difficult to explain locales and phenomena are hand-waved away by the protagonist in favor of maintaining focus on the more immediately demanding and gratifying violent spectacles in which they are engaged. Even towards the game’s conclusion when information about the circumstances of their world and the consequences of their actions are being directly and forcefully explained to them, the protagonists ignore and block out this information by focusing on the violent acts at hand. There is here a debate about means and ends that can be had such that it could be argued that a focus on the violent means by the characters really reflects their total commitment to their end goals. which are noble. However, it is equally arguable, and in my opinion more convincing given the ways the protagonist’s commitment to their violent actions are demonstrated to be beyond reflection such that even if new information arose that challenged their thinking in terms of how best to reach their goals, they would continue to pursue their violent course because it is the means and not the ends to which they are more committed.

This idea of violence as something so directly engaging that in precludes the accumulation and processing of new knowledge is an interesting one and something that relates back to part one’s discussion of the relationship between myth and history. Violence in NieR seems to have the effect of perpetuating the mythical cycle of extinction and rebirth precisely because it precludes the protagonists becoming aware of the historical context in which they are acting. The protagonist refuses to grasp their role in wiping out a previous form of humanity and it is because they never gain this knowledge about the historical significance of their actions that they are able to carry them out. Violence is, as has often been stated in other contexts, something of a cyclical phenomenon, with patterns of action and retribution that continue in perpetuity across history. However, instead of suggesting that violent atrocities have stood in the way of history, or set society back, it might be more effective to say that violent actions keep people involved at a mythical level of understanding and involvement with the world around them and prevent them from entering into a historical one. Emerging from this, the question that NieR seems to beg is whether or not this mythical level of acting is immoral or not.

The events of NieR are certainly tragic. They concern the extinction of a form of humanity, carried out but another form of humanity that lacks the knowledge of the full significance of their actions. However, the game also seems to suggest that there is little room for alternatives as it relates to this matter. There is no possibility for coexistence between Gestalts and Replicants. Either the Gestalts themselves share this violent predisposition and pose an immediate and unavoidable threat to the Replicants, or else they are as committed to their own survival the the replicants are and rely parasitically on the Replicants to achieve it. This is, of course, most pronounced in the case of the Shadow Lord, who, like the protagonist, will do whatever it takes to save his sister, even if it means committing atrocities against another intelligent form of humanity. Since the parasitism of the Gestalts ultimately leads to madness and the destruction of the intelligence of both Gestalt and Replicant, the elimination of the Gestalt threat is a necessity for intelligent life’s continued survival. While one can empathize with the Gestalt, there is no denying within the system that the game has established, they are, so to speak, on the wrong side of history, which is to say that their existence must come to end for humanity itself to continue. However, their fundamental sameness to the Replicants in terms of their right to be considered human is undeniable. It is this sameness, this inability to distinguish between the moral and human rights of either side that causes a major problem for humanity’s continued existence. 

This is where the mythically oriented violent disposition of the protagonist becomes important. The violent outlook is capable of creating dichotomies where none exist, of disrupting markers of commonality and sewing division and discord. While these aspects of violence are rarely celebrated (or worth celebrating) they are capable of allowing life to orient itself by the cyclical form as opposed to the stable form of history. They preclude the definition of the human based on intelligence and consciousness and and preclude rational and emotional connections with others which might break the cycle and establish the alternative trajectories of history. The cycle is a sort of trap or prison, but it is also something that inevitably continues and this may hit closer to the essence of what life actually is than the many ways that historical consciousness allows us to envision life as something that evolves and makes progress, or, alternatively, collapses and comes to an end.

It is in this sense that the game does not render a traditional moral judgment on the actions of its protagonists, what it offers, or at least tries to offer, is an alternative orientation (that of cycle and myth) to view these actions from so as to make sense of them. Moral judgment does not exist in the same way within myth since the cycle is fixed and eternal and thus morality has no weight as a means to determine the direction in which human life should proceed or the means by which it may be judged. However, as stated in part one, the game does not wholly commit itself to myth, nor is the mythical outlook able to supersede the historical. Even if the protagonists fail to grasp the historical weight of their actions, the player has the opportunity to come much closer to doing so. They are torn between two poles, the desire to play the game and the desire to make sense of the story and these poles are roughly aligned with the mythical and the historical respectively. 

Playing the game, participating in the thrill of combat, becomes something that supersedes the story world in many games, including NieR. Because combat in games is essentially mechanical, which is to say that it is defined and governed by the rules of an abstract system, it is endlessly repeatable and detachable from its context. It is always possible for the player to detach themselves from the world in which the action takes place and to focus on the combat. NieR itself explores and encourages this relation by encouraging multiple playthroughs in which the details of the story, since they have already become familiar, recede into the background, while the more abstract stimulation of the mechanically challenging combat becomes the focus. However, what is intriguing here is the way that NieR, in a seemingly contradictory manner, ties this mythical and cyclical engagement to gameplay systems into a continued desire for historical understanding. Many games now offer what is commonly known as New Game +, which is basically a mode in which the player can replay the game that they have already completed with the narrative remaining entirely unchaged but allowing them to keep their character/abilities/items/etc. and be faced with more difficult gameplay challenges. New Game + modes obviously place almost exclusive focus on the player’s desire to continue to “play the game”, pushing the story to the background as something that has already been completed and fully experience. However, NieR promises the player small and subtle, yet revealing and significant differences to the narrative upon subsequent playthroughs. As such, in the instances where systems would appear to be the major driver of the experience, NieR doubles down on the desire for story in order to challenge the straightforwardness of this progression towards gameplay focused abstraction.

NieR continues to hold out the prospect of more of the narrative to the players, even after the characters involved and their fates have largely been settled. It conveys the protagonists own imprisonment in the mythical cycle but also delivers to the player the promise of narrative progression. What seems to be the case is that ultimately the pull that NieR makes on the player is undecidable. Instead of narrative receding in the face gameplay as the primary motivating desire upon subsequent playthroughs, it becomes difficult to say at which level the player’s desire is more firmly rooted. NieR offers the possibilty to see its events cyclically by replaying it at the same time that it promises the ability to break that cycle by revealing new aspects of the story. Ultimately, NieR doesn’t restrict its player to either commitment, it asks them to move between the two, to experience the game and its events in both ways, not to judge which is the more proper way to view the game, but rather to suggest that the game is a novel form that allows for the experience and awareness of both.

This seems to me to be one of NieR’s major contentions about video games: that they offer something like an evolution in terms of the way we understand the world as well as tell and experience stories because they lend themselves to this simultaneous mythical and historical engagement with the world in a way that other forms do not. They allow these two forms of desire to coexist without extinguishing one or the other. The player, in the end, does not fully have the means to render a historical-moral judgment on the protagonist because despite their efforts they do not have the full picture. The mythical cycle of the game is incomplete and yet compelling in its form so as to justify itself and its continued existence (similar to the way human life is able to justify its continued existence despite the moral obstacles placed in its way by the narrative predicament NieR poses). However, neither does the protagonist have the ability to fully embrace the myth. There is too much historical and moral weight to knowledge they have accumulated while playing the game to feel that the protagonist and their role in the cycle of extinction and survival can be identified with and accepted. The player finds themselves feeling both inside and outside of this cycle, both related to and estranged from the characters they control. This is a unique position in relation to a story such as this and one that is not entirely satisfying. It presents the player with gaps and contradictions in their own experience as well as in the desires upon which said experience is structured.

If the mythical cycle is a prison that allows life to continue but locks it into an inevitably limited, cyclical awareness of its relation to the world and the historical offers lines of flight that may lead towards shared progress, but are just as likely to lead towards total ruin, NieR puts forward the need for an alternative. This alternative is the perspective of the player, at once within the world and out of it, at once able to know and judge as well as too limited in scope to make such knowledge and judgments definitive. In short, this is a means of experiencing and understanding the world that puts a premium on more immediate involvement in an experience as opposed to more detached contemplation of it, but also wants to include means of contextualizing that experience that are emotionally challenging and thought provoking without being overly moralizing or didactic. As such, what this alternative perspective seems opposed to is the rigidity of uncompromising moral and historical lenses while simultaneously rejecting the atomization and detachment of the cyclical over-investment in direct action (figured predominantly through the figure of violence). It imagines the game as a system for negotiating these two poles and thus for knowing the world differently.

NieR might, in this sense, be seen as functioning dialectically, producing a new means for understanding the world out of a clash between opposed alternatives. In my view, it provides an elegant view of stakes against with humanity threatens to exhaust itself. It offers something fluid yet thought provoking and it leaves us with a sense of these characters and their world that demands more of us in terms of our ability to make sense of it. If neither the mythical outlook nor the historical one can give us a satisfying account of the meaning of NieR, we are spurred to look instead at how we experience the push and pull between these two perspectives in our own experience. This reflexive knowledge that games can create through juxtaposing their systems and narratives with the player’s desires and experiences is, in my view, crucial to getting people to reflect on meaning differently. Whether or not it represents that transcendence necessary for life to mean something more than an a cycle or a linear progression remains unanswered. However, the way it involves the individual and their own negotiation of experience and what can be known about it is important to me, because it involves a fundamentally questioning of how we make sense of things. I hope that it engages people in a way that can’t be resolved by resource to rote ideologies or abstracted patterns of involvement, but instead makes these two domains relative to each other, leaving the player with need to sort through their own sense of how to make these domains most compellingly work together. For myself, as it relates to NieR, this means acknowledging something in my own desire for knowledge of causality that keeps me involved in the mythical cycles of violence that the game depicts. There is something in my experience therefore that cannot be reduced to either one or the other.

------

We can establish a contrast between the way violent impulses and violent behavior function for the protagonists of NieR and the way they function for players of the game. Of course, there are many who do play games with the mentality displayed by the protagonists. They play games for the action, they skip cutscenes, they tune out dialogue, they are bored by anything resembling downtime. For people with this approach, NieR is a game whose story recedes into the background. Important dialogue is often conveyed during fights and thus is easy to ignore. Important portions of the dialogue can even be missed entirely if the player completes segments of fights too quickly, something that in my experience occurred fairly often unless I actively held back. In the second playthrough there are totally new segments of dialogue spoken by the boss-shades that the player fights, but they are not spoken in english (or whatever language the player is playing the game in) and must be read via subtitles, something that is difficult and requires conscious effort during a frenetic fight scene. For the player who is keen to focus on the action NieR makes it easy, but for the player who has an interest in the story, these devices create the kind of dissonance that symbolize the conflict between these two desires through setting the players experience of both at odds with each other.

As such, for the player with some sort of desire to understand the narrative, violent action in NieR becomes something like an impediment to receiving the story. An intense focus on the gameplay, something most action games demand, is actively at odds with the player’s experience of the story. Even player’s like myself who do care about the story and desire to understand it may  find themselves slipping habitually into preoccupation with the action and only once it is too late realized that they have missed something that they wanted to see or hear regarding the story. This is highly characteristic of a common vein of difference in video games between the habitual nature of gameplay, particularly fast-pace visceral action oriented gameplay, and the unexpected interruptions of story that seek to command the player’s attention with their difference from the usual experience of the game. It also symbolically stands in for the way certain actions, notably those violent in nature, can stand in the way of our ability to understand the wider context of our actions, as I have already discussed above.

However, in NieR, as in most action games with prominent narrative components, violence is not only an distraction from the story, it is also the only means to access it. In a meaningful contradiction, the player forced to perform the violent actions of the gameplay in order to reveal further aspects of the story. Violence is thus depicted as not only as consuming and narrowing the player’s focus, but also as opening up and revealing more and more about the world. Players do not just commit violent acts in games because they enjoy them, although they may, violence is a means to progression in the overall narrative structure of many games, including NieR. It takes the characters to new places, it introduces them to new people and creatures, and it leads to many other moments of revelation, even as it also actively threatens to obscure and destroy what it potentially reveals. The player is perhaps more aware of this double-edged nature of violence than the game’s protagonists are, especially if they have a desire to understand the world of the game, which the characters who live in that world do not. This struggle between knowing what violent actions are capable of revealing and also understanding how they threaten to destroy or deform those revelations is a major characteristic of the experience of playing NieR. It is an uneasy knowledge that the player may sometimes actively suppress in order to feed their desire for kinetic stimulation while at other times it will erupt and confront them with the limitations of their means of interacting with this world.

Ultimately, if one way to read the gaps and ellipses in NieR’s narrative is to see it as a negotiation between different knowledge systems and are conflicting desires to understand the world, another way to read them is as a critique of our limited means of access to understanding that our means of interacting with that world provide. If we had some other means of interacting with this world we might be able to come to a more satisfying means of understanding it. However, for whatever reason, whether it is because of the limitations of our protagonists or because of the limitations of the commercial video game marketplace that allows this game to exist in the first place, we are left with a story filled with gaps and ellipses because the violent action takes precedence and determines the form of the former. This is a more critical and moralizing interpretation of the role of video game violence, but it is certainly a valid one.

Another similar and yet different interpretation of these same points would claim violence as necessary and integral, not just to this game and these characters worldviews, but to human life in general. It would claim violence as something properly human, something essential to our will to survive and protect our sense of self. As such, the game would be less about the limitations of the protagonist’s or the gamer’s perspective on the game world, and more about the limitations of humanity’s perspective on the world in general. Returning to the points above we could see these limitation as an impediment to a more complete form of historical knowledge that we desire, or we might also see them as the reason we become locked into a cyclical form of knowledge that is always relative to our position in a repeated cycle. Or, as I have more affirmatively suggested above, we may take these limitations as affordances and see them as the tools that we are capable of working with, and from them attempt to devise more satisfying and productive means of understanding the world that do not depend on an outright rejection of the violent means by which we as human beings often propel ourselves forward.

In either case, this is a much more complex and ambivalent take on violence than what we are often granted by other video games, one that forces us to reckon with the integral place of violence in our lives and its role in enacting our desires, even as we recognize how it warps and limits us and the world around us.

----

The other aspect of NieR worth examining is the question of selfishness and sacrifice. Many video games over the years have purported to have moral choice systems. These often boil down to a rudimentary binary where the player is either able to act selfishly or selflessly and see some sort of impact based on their choices in the events of the story and in changes to the world around them. This trend reached its zenith with the 360/PS3 console generation and was typified by the likes of Mass Effect, Bioshock, and Infamous. Although many classic CRPG’s such as the Fallout series featured a wider range of more nuanced moral choices, the distillation of this concept in these more commercially prominent series has served in large part to define how we think about moral choice, for better or for worse, in contemporary video games.  Since many of these games (as well as a plurality of games in general) grant players great and substantial powers in the context of their worlds, games are often dealing with fundamental questions about heroism and its possibility. They often treat on the old theme from Spiderman: “With great power comes great responsibility”, and spur the players to think more about the impact that their desire can have on the world around them.

NieR is an interesting game because it bucks many of the presiding trends in video games related to exploring what effects a powerful, potentially heroic character can have on their world. Generally, It doesn’t give the player choices about their actions. The positive or negative effects that the protagonist’s actions have on those around them, such as the decimation of the Aerie or the eventual destruction of Project Gestalt itself are ultimately outside of the players control, part of an escalating cycle of power-accumulation and violence spurred on by the looming threat of extinction for Gestalts and Replicants alike. The player is swept up in a current of events occurring in the world of NieR, acting before they fully understand the implications of their situation, forced to serve as the catalyst in terrible cycle of death and rebirth, an integral part of an enormous machine whose function is beyond their control. In this way, the protagonist’s involvement in the story of NieR is something like an allegory for the nature of the player’s involvement across the medium of video games. Although player’s of video games often do have a great degree of control as it relates to their interaction with gameplay systems, the same cannot be said about the stories and worlds within which such systems are contextualized. Typically moral choice systems in games work to combat or obscure the sense in which the player’s role in determining the story of a video game is pre-determined and their agency circumscribed. NieR takes the opposite track, reveling in making the player aware of the way that the fate of the world of NieR is almost entirely outside their control, regardless of their intentions for it.

While the mandatory missions at the center of NieR’s story always play out the same way, where the player is given more agency to shape the events of the game’s story is in relation to the game’s side quests. Unlike the main objectives that must be fulfilled for the story to progress, side quests in NieR are entirely optional. (The only exception is that if the player wishes to reach endings D and E there are certain side quests that they must complete in order to collect all the in-game weapons. Endings D and E represent the biggest part of the game’s story where the player does have some degree of agency. I will discuss them in more detail later in this piece.) The greatest sense in which the player has agency has to do with whether or not they are interested in taking part in these side quests to begin with. Since they all tend to revolve around the player taking on errands and requests from people who would be at greater risk from the dangers of the outside world than the protagonist would be, these side quests are an important area where the themes of selflessness/selfishness and heroism are explored.

In RPGs, side quests will range in terms of their significance to the larger themes and stories of the games. Often they can be acknowledged as forms of mindless busywork, intended to allow the player a structured means to gain power and resources, or else a way to pad out the game’s content and serve as an interlude between the more eventful mandatory missions. Other games use side-quests to tell relatively robust stand alone stories that contribute to the player’s overall sense of the world and develop the game’s various themes. NieR falls somewhere between these two poles. In NieR, side quests vary in terms of their subject matter, but are generally relatively mundane in terms of the tasks involved. They often revolve around revisiting previously explored areas to kill a dangerous shade or to track down some missing or needed item for a given NPC. However, they are typically much more interesting in terms of how they contribute to the player’s sense of the game’s world and its central themes. While the tasks themselves are typically quotidian, their meaning often deepens and evolves upon reflection. All contain at least a few extended conversations with the quest giver and usually also include some dialogue between the protagonist and Grimoire Weiss. It is in these instances of dialogue in which the characters are able to reflect on and consider the significance of their actions before and after the fact that surprising and unforeseen aspects of them typically become apparent.

There is something like a general pattern that the side quests in NieR follow that I would summarize as the following: The protagonist receives a fairly innocuous request, Grimoire Weiss comments on the protagonists tendency to involve themselves in the problems of others, despite them having their own more pressing concerns, the task is completed, but something begins to feel off about the whole thing, and, finally, the player returns to the quest giver where they are forced to confront the reality that some other purpose was being served by the protagonist’s actions then the one they thought they would be fulfilling. The general tone of these quests can range from the silly to the serious. In one, for instance, the player helps a family to track down their missing son, only in the end for it to be revealed that said family was a family of criminals and that the son who you tracked down and forced to return home was attempting to flee a life of crime. This ends up feeling strange and slightly comical, a sort of “whoops, perhaps we should have been more careful about what we were getting ourselves involved in,” moment. In another, things become much more serious, when upon delivering letters to an old woman who lives in a lighthouse at edge of the village of Seafront it is revealed that the letters that arrive from the woman’s lover living overseas are an elaborate multi-generational ruse devised by the villagers to protect the woman from learning that her lover is dead and to ensure that she continues to wait in Seafront and continue to operate the lighthouse to the benefit of the entire community. At the conclusion of the quest, the player is given the opportunity to tell the old woman the truth about these letters and the fate of her lover or to continue to perpetuate the lie. 

Apart from the choice about whether or not to engage with these side quests in the first place, these sorts of unexpectedly harrowing decisions about whether or not to tell someone the truth about the sinister, deceptive, and/or tragic circumstances of their life are the other major form of agency that the player has in the side quests that they do not have in the main quest. Their decisions ultimately do not substantially change the events of the game or the world around them. Sometimes they lead to the player receiving one reward or another, but more often than not, their only impact is in terms of how the NPCs involved understand the significance of their lives, as well as how the player views the protagonists responsibility to these characters. The player may choose to lie and keep the truth of a situation from an unwitting NPC or they may choose to tell them the truth. However, even in the latter context, the NPCs always reach an acceptance of this revelation that allows them to keep living their lives be at peace with the tragic or unexpected circumstances that have affected them. While the player may have feeling that they express through their choices in these moments about whether these NPCs are better off knowing the truth or remaining blissfully ignorant, ultimately their choices do nothing to alter the fates of the characters involved, nor their own. Telling the NPCs the truth doesn’t do anything to make the player more able to face the truth of their own situation. Neither does choosing to keep the truth from them cause the player to look away from the reality of the circumstances they are in. 

Ultimately, the characters in NieR are compelled to live their lives, to fulfill their roles in their societies, whether or not they are given the opportunity by the player to come to terms with the truth. The player may agonize, feeling the weight of the choices that are put in front of them and their responsibility to these NPCs, but ultimately the player and their choices don’t have the ability to change the lives of these characters, for better or for worse. The player may have the desire to act selflessly, to behave heroically, or else they may make choices out of self-interest that best serve themselves. However, despite having the power to be in this position where the player has the ability to imagine themselves as a hero, in truth, if heroism and selflessness are about having the power to make sacrifices that improve the lives of others, then the player is ultimately unable to live up this standard. In this sense, we can see NieR as being about how a powerful and potentially heroic figure remains relatively powerless in the face of larger and more mysterious forces that they fail understand, let alone control, or, alternatively, only understand too late when the opportunity to make a decision that might positively or negatively affect the lives of those around them has already passed. 

This “too little” or “too late” sense of heroism is ever-present in NieR and goes a long way towards contributing to the general aesthetic of the game. It is a markedly different experience of having power and aspiring towards heroism than the ones that are typically offered by other video games. It conveys a sense in which having power is not the same as having agency, but instead contributes to a more acute sense of ones limitations. NieR is a game about being trapped in a cycle, about the inevitability of tragic events, and about a desperate desire to resist those things that must remain largely thwarted. What it means to try to act heroically in this context serves as a powerful and enlightening corrective to the sense of heroism put forward by other games and media.

We can explore this sense of heroism in more detail at this point by refocusing on the main narrative of NieR. As previously mentioned, the player has little to no agency as it relates to shaping the events of the larger story. However, the game’s plot deals directly with themes of heroism and sacrifice, as well as their limitations. At the center of the narrative is the protagonist and a few different sets of relationships. Chief among these are the relationship between the protagonist and his sister Yonnah, the relationship between the protagonist and his companions, Kainé and Emil, and finally the protagonist and his relationship with his allies and enemies, notably the games many quest givers.

The protagonists relationship with Yonnah in particular poses interesting questions about heroism, particularly as it relates to the distinction between selfishness and selflessness. A recurrent motif throughout the game, especially the game’s first half, is the idea that acting to protect/cure/save Yonnah means becoming more distant from her. The sense that Yonnah is trapped and imprisoned, even in the game’s first half when she is in the protagonist’s village, not yet captured by the Shadow Lord, is the most prominent aspect of her character in the game. She is imprisoned by her failing body as much as she is by external forces. In the beginning of the game, we see the protagonist taking on minor tasks in service of the villagers, culling sheep, fighting shades, but these do not take the protagonist very far away from Yonnah. However, after Yonnah’s “escape attempt” where she searches in vain for a lunar tear before being captured, the player teams up with Grimoire Weiss, gaining substantially more power and beginning to take on greater responsibility. The quest for greater power that will ostensibly save Yonnah also takes him further and further away from her. This is primarily conveyed through the game’s loading screens which depict excerpts from Yonnah’s diary. These generally convey the sense that Yonnah is lonely, that she misses her brother, and that she wishes she could be more involved with the exciting life that he is living and meet the new companions that he has teamed up with.

The player may begin to feel. as I did, what Yonnah really needs is her brother’s companionship and that his tireless efforts to save her, which extend towards his becoming something like the hero of the land, may ultimately be more about his needs than about hers. It is not at all clear the plan to collect the sealed verses will work. The game is careful to indicate that the ancient song that gives rise to this plan is itself imprecise and not necessarily reliable. Still, the protagonist leaps to the conclusion that murdering shades in service of accumulating power is the right thing to do, precisely, I feel, because he cannot stand the feeling of being trapped and powerless, the same feeling that Yonnah inevitably has to live with. The protagonist has the power to resist this feeling, but in so doing he separates himself from his sister.

At the game’s conclusion, the protagonist successfully slays the Shadow Lord and brings Yonnah back home. The initial A end provides a sense of peace as well as a return to innocence, with the two symbolically reverting to their childhood forms. While this may seem to suggest that, in the end, the protagonist’s actions were justified and that now, with the dark threat eliminated, the two will live happily ever after, this ending is tinged with bitterness. This is because of the fate of the protagonists companions, who are either dead or left behind at the game’s conclusion as well as because of the the fate of the world, which the protagonist willfully ignores in his relentless desire to save his sister. We are left with a sense that by growing more powerful and expanding his horizons outwards, the protagonist had assumed responsibilities to people other than just his sister. In this light, the idyllic return home to a time of innocence reads like another selfish attempt to escape the burdens of caring for the sick and damaged, rather than a culminating reward for the protagonist’s selfless heroism. Saving his sister was ultimately possible because of the many sacrifices the protagonist made with an aim towards selfless devotion, but it is difficult if not impossible to separate these actions from their selfish aspects.

The relationship between the protagonist and his sister Yonnah in which the protagonist neglects her in order to try to save her and distance himself from her and the sense of imprisonment that she represents can be considered as the paradigmatic instance of a dynamic in which selfless and selfish actions are hopelessly intertwined, we can see this dynamic repeated in the relationship between the protagonist and his world. A consequence of the protagonists newfound powers are his ability to travel across his homeland and come to a greater understanding of the problems of others and their relations to his own. Part of the heroes journey is a gradual realization that the world is bigger than oneself and a subsequent willingness to accept responsibility for the problems of others. The protagonists journey in this regard is one of stunted growth. His continued focus on his sister’s problems ultimately lead him towards narrow solutions to the problems of others that benefit him and his smaller worldview. He never truly reaches an awareness of the most important problems of his world, not because he is unable to comprehend them, but because he is unwilling to.

Despite an abundance of evidence that the shades that he fights are intelligent and close to human, the protagonist never considers altering course away from his genocidal campaign of violence. He does not search for more nuanced solutions to the problems that other communities have with shades. As the game progresses, the player is able to see more and more clearly that the shades he’s fighting are not villainous, but rather misunderstood, but the protagonist never comes close to making these same revelations. In the most extreme case, that of the Aerie, the protagonist, although not entirely of his own volition, resorts to annihilating that village in order to defeat a powerful shade. This unconcern with the fate of other living beings speaks to the protagonist singlemindedness as it relates to the growth of his power, a single-mindedness that leads to his greater failures to comprehend his responsibility to the world around him. 

This reaches a culmination in the game’s conclusion when the protagonist refuses to understand the information about Project Gestalt that Devola and Popola supply him with. It is not that he accepts what they tell him, that he is essentially committing genocide against the previous iteration of the human race, and decides that there is no turning back at this point. Instead, he simply stubbornly refuses to listen to and consider the meaning of any of it. In the end, it is Yonnah, and more specifically the Gestalt version of Yonnah, that grasps the full truth of the situation that their world has found itself in. It is in her sacrifice of her own life that we see what it means to come to terms with a responsibility to the world around her and to humanity in general. It is only in the depths of her confinement, rather than in the liberatory potential of the power possessed by both the protagonist and the Shadow Lord, that she finds the capacity to acknowledge the reality of the world around her and to truly make a heroic sacrifice.

At the game’s initial conclusion in ending A, despite its idyllic semblance, the ending is tragic because the protagonist’s failure is so pronounced. He has failed to understand anything, and this failure is perhaps most prominently symbolized in the moment where he holds out his hand to the Gestalt Yonnah who procedes to walk right by him. It is in this light that we can see that something in his potential journey towards heroism has failed. However, it is not only in this light. The protagonist can also be seen to fail in his journey in terms of his ability to help and understand his companions. Kainé and Emil are both characters who have their own tremendously impactful struggles and the protagonist’s ultimate ignorance towards them is another black mark that signals his failure to arrive at consciousness of his own situation.

(Mention the episode where Devola and Popola ban Kainé and Emil)

In a sense, NieR is about how a powerful and potentially heroic figure remains relatively powerless in the face of larger and more mysterious forces that they cannot understand, let alone control.

NieR is also a meditation on the difficulty of separating selfless and selfish actions and the ways that intending to change things for others inevitably ends up being about changing one’s own awareness and understanding of themselves. As previously stated, rather than changing the lives of the other characters or the world around them, the players attempts to be a hero only really have an effect on themselves. They aren't able to change the course of the world for worse or for better, but they are able to shape how the player knows and feels about the world. This leads to a different sense of what heroism means in the context of humanity and suggests that the selfish and selfless dichotomies that underly so many of our stories about power and how it ought or ought not to be used are reductive and fail to account for the ways that having power is itself a perspective on the world.

The premise that one can be good or bad, selfless or selfish, with the use of power, suggests that they can have a worldview that they bring with them into their acquisition of power that remains intact. It suggests that what will change when a person becomes powerful is everything around that person, rather than that person themselves. But this focus on selfishness and selflessness obscures the degree to which power is essentially a change in ones own worldview and that how one uses their power is ultimately something that has consequences for the self, not something that changes the world. Power is thus far less liberating than it is often imagined to be and primarily serves as challenge to the individuals sense of themselves, often in a way that brings them closer to their limitation as an ordinary human being, rather than something that allows them to transcend them.

[gravecinema]

Why Heathers is the Best High School Movie of the 80's - 06/03/2020

The 1980’s brought forth many a high school movie. The most famous movies were the John Hughes movies such as Pretty in Pink, The Breakfast Club, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. These are all great movies in their own right, but it was a movie by director Michael Lehmann and writer Daniel Waters in 1989 that would prove to be the defining high school movie of that decade. That movie was Heathers.

Heathers is anchored by a career performance from Winona Ryder. Winona Ryder has said she was motivated to make this movie because of her strong feelings about girl cliques, the pervasive bullying that goes on in high schools and the "hellishness" of the high school experience. With a character name of Veronica, she is the black sheep in the group of four popular girls at school, with the other three girls are all named Heather, which is where the title of the film comes from. Unlike the more teen-friendly John Hughes movies, Heathers is an R-rated dark comedy covering the themes of body image, depressive isolation, date rape, murder, suicide, and toxic relationships. Veronica is just trying to be like one of the other Heathers at the start of the movie, even though she hates the peer pressure of doing things she’s morally against. All that is about to change though, when she starts a relationship with the new bad-boy student at school named JD, played by a young Christian Slater.

Christian Slater has a star-making performance in the movie, and his character of JD is the main driver of the plot. JD uses his influence on Veronica after hooking up with her to push her towards killing everyone whom he considers to be a bad element in the school, while having the idea of making them all look like suicides. Even though when they kill the first Heather it can be considered somewhat of an unintended accident, JD starts to like the idea of killing everyone that he feels deserves it. JD is an immensely tragic character, which is part of what makes him such a great antagonist. After witnessing the suicide of his mother when he was a kid, JD carries that trauma along with being an outcast wherever the next place his dad moves him to. He is also the only character in the movie to successfully commit suicide at the climax of the film. He’s a character that especially has a much deeper meaning today after school and mass shooting events such as Columbine in 1999.

One great strength of Heathers that always stands out to me is the memorable lines from the fantastic script by Daniel Waters. It contains great quotable lines such as “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” “Dear Diary, my teen-angst bullshit now has a body count,” and “Whether to kill yourself or not is one of the most important decisions a teenager can make.” The best and most memorable line of all though has to be when the father of one two football players who they believe were killed in an apparent gay suicide pact is giving a eulogy. “My son’s a homosexual, and I love him. I love my dead gay son.” You’ll be quoting Heathers for a while with friends long after you’ve seen it.

Heathers also has a memorable and distinct soundtrack with a score by David Newman. An opening and closing song of “Que Sera, Sera” also provides a nice theme for the movie. It bookends the start and ending of the film and gives the story a nice whimsical feel to it. The only other featured song used in the film provides the main message of the whole movie. The name of the song: “Teenage Suicide (Don’t Do It).” Fairly on the nose if you ask me.

One thing that always stands out to me when I watch this movie is the wonderful display of 80’s fashion. The blazers, designs, and hairstyles could only have come from the 80’s. The character of JD is the only one who looks the most timeless out of the bunch, since a dark trench coat never goes out of style. The most interesting costume choice though is whatever the hell the spirit of Heather Chandler was wearing in a dream sequence. I guess that’s the beauty of dream sequences. You can do weird stuff in them.

The best thing about the costume design in Heathers aside from its 80’s-ness has to be the use of colors. The five major characters each have a prominent color and by extension a certain emotion attached to them. Veronica is dressed in pure blue, the alpha Heather Chandler is dressed in power red, Heather McNamara in innocent yellow, Heather Duke in secondary green, and JD in evil black. One thing I love about this is that it shows character transitions at certain points in the film. After Heather Chandler is killed and taken out of the top of the high school hierarchy, Heather Duke stops wearing green and adopts the color of red in her wardrobe to signify her stepping into the role of the new Queen of the colony. The red hairband that she takes after Heather Chandler’s demise also represents a sort of crown for this role. This symbolism is further cemented when at the end of the film Veronica takes the hairband off Heather Duke and puts it on herself proclaiming that there’s a new sheriff in town.

The real staying-power of Heathers rests in the major themes that it tackles. Even though the script plays the movie up as more of a satire with how the high school faculty is represented in their reactions to the suicides, the major commentary on teenage suicide and toxic relationships carry heavy weight. It shows how peer pressure can carry a heavy influence on the major social groups in school, and how being an outcast from that group can cause major depression and lead to suicidal thoughts. The scene where Veronica stops Heather McNamara from committing suicide in the bathroom is the main showcase of this. It tackles the questions of why a teenager would feel that they have no choice but to commit suicide, and also why doing so would be stupid. We also see the outcasted Martha attempt to commit suicide, only to later reveal that she was unsuccessful in her attempt, which prompts Heather Duke to mock her even more for being a failure at that.

The relationship that starts between Veronica and JD is a textbook example of how one partner can have a toxic effect on the other, leading them both down a path of self-destruction. They practically beat you on the head with it as JD literally self-destructs at the end of the film. Veronica is ultimately saved by her rejection of JD and his codependent bullshit. She sees the futility of the path JD is taking and is doing her best to get away from it. JD lost the love of his mother when was young and shows his disconnect with his dad. He then shows a need for the love of Veronica and her acceptance of him with his views and choices. When she stops giving him both, that’s the trigger that leads him down his final path of self-destruction. It was only through the direct actions of Veronica that he is prevented from taking the rest of the school and the people that he hates with him.

There were originally several alternate endings for the film than the one they ultimately decided on. The original ending from scriptwriter David Waters had JD being successful in blowing up the entire school, and then ending the movie with everyone getting together in a sort of prom in heaven where everyone got along and accepted one another just as JD proclaimed while trying to blow up the school. When that was rejected for being too dark since they all died, the writer then had Martha stab Veronica when she was trying to make peace with her at the end, claiming that she is a Heather while Veronica is denying it. In the end, we ultimately got the ending that was used in the film when Martha accepted the peace offering, and the movie ends on a more upbeat and hopeful note.

The more upbeat ending was a good choice, since the cult following that would grow with the movie over time would eventually lead a successful stage musical adaptation in 2014. The musical is great at expanding on the themes from the movie, using the power of musical numbers to help highlight them. The great and iconic line of “I love my dead gay son” even gets its very own song. I recommend listening to the West End version of the show, since that version replaces one song with a better one and adds two of the best songs in the whole show. Musicals always have songs containing certain emotional themes and the “Fuck you” song is always my favorite song in any musical, and “I Say No” is the best “Fuck you” song from a musical that I’ve heard in a long while.

Heathers will always be a great movie and one of my favorites to rewatch. The themes contained within will continue to resonate with high schoolers today. While there are other high school movies made during the 80’s that teens can also identify with, none of them quite have the biting satire and dark themes that Heathers provides. For me, Heathers will always be the best high school movie of the 80’s.  

[linkspooky]

Eri and Shigaraki are obviously supposed to parallel one another, but in the sense of "showing what might have been both ways" not in "Eri was saved, so Shigaraki will be too", I think.I can't say anything for certain, obviously, but I feel like everything we've found out makes any salvation for him less likely, not more. I would like for the series to directly address that the two characters have important similarities, though. like enji and bakugou 1/3

I think the parallels between eri and tenko of them exist primarily to demonstrate how much of a difference it can make depending on how people are treated and, on a slightly darker level how the people that heroes protect can potentially become the villains that heroes were protecting them from in the first place. Shiggy is one of those tragic cases where you can totally see that he could have been redeemed if he had been helped sooner, but it’s nearly impossible to imagine a scenario 2/3

where his current self could be redeemed. Shiggy could of possibly been redeemed when he was a child, if someone more morally sound got to him before All for One did. Sure, he would of likely been a traumatized and guilty wreck once he realized exactly what he did but atleast he would of had a chance. In the present he’s not so much someone to be redeemed as he is a serious threat to public safety that needs to be contained. 3/3

Thanks for the ask, anon!  You’re free to disagree with me all you like, I hope you don’t mind if I continue the discussion. I consider this blog to be all about discussion so nobody is truly wrong, all I can do is restate my point of view and hope it’s understandable. 

Shigaraki’s Character Development  and Why it Shows There’s Still a Chance for Him

Shigaraki is an ugly, messy, bad person one who is hard to sympathize with. The entire point of his conflcit is that it’s difficult to imagine him being saved, but the story goes out of its way to show that he is at the same time, a person capable of changing for the better. If he were a lost cause, he would only experience negative development not the positive development he’s been shown. The plot is heading towards Shigaraki being saved not because people should have to sympathize with him, but because Shigaraki has a character arc. He’s not spiraling out of control, he’s growing into becoming his own person outside of the threat to society All for One intended him to be. 

I never once said in my post that Shigaraki deserves redemption, or is going to be redeemed in a straightforward manner. My post is entirely about how moralizing the way one victim of abuse acts, in comparison to the way another victim of abuse acts and deciding which one of them should be saved based on that black and white judgement is wrong. At that point the complexity from both characters is erased to rule that Eri is the “good victim” and Shigaraki is the “bad victim.”

Saying that only Eri deserves comfort or solace from what has been done to her is the same as saying that victims only deserve to be helped if they are acting a certa “acceptable” way. It was also about the complexities of empathizing with someone. Not every case of empathy is going to be beautiful, not every person you’re asked to sympathize with is going to be as straightforward as feeling bad for a crying little girl. Sometimes people don’t cry, sometimes people resist you every step of the way, sometimes people are ugly and hard to confront but that does not make them any less deserving of empathy. 

Shigaraki does not stop being a human at any point. His victim status does not get negated by the fact that he has grown up. Especially since, Shigaraki is still very much underneath All for One’s thumbs and in the middle of his machination. In fact because Shigaraki is still a human who is effected by the environment around him he has been shown

#1 - Shigaraki has a character arc, and is directly tied to the themes of the story

Most importantly, Shigaraki is a character with an arc. The reason I say he is going to be saved isn’t because I like redemption arcs, or I think every villain needs to be redeemed. In fact I hate the term “redemption arc” because it’s dumb, literally what makes a redemption arc good is the same thing that makes any other character arc good, a character facing consequences for their actions and being forced to change. A character getting their teeth repeatedly kicked in until they learn better. 

You have to think of this story in terms of themes, and characters. Shigaraki is the second most important character thematically after the Deku, so he’s not just a tragic case that can disappear after one arc. What exactly would the story be saying if a kid who has basically been abused all of his life and raised as a child soldier gets “put down” before any single person sympathized with him or even gave him a chance? That you only get saved if you’re lucky enough to be saved? That’s super optimistic there. 

Thematically the main conflict of the story is that in a society made up of heroes, there are people who do not get saved. This is how the story starts “In this world people are not created equal”, this is what Shigaraki thinks when he is alone in a crowd of people desperately begging for people to help him, only for people to ignore him, because he looked too ugly, or too dangerous to get involved in. 

I’m not saying Shigaraki deserves to be saved because it’s nice, or because I want him to, by “deserves” I mean this is an idea the story is building up and should be paid off. The theme is a question and the events that happen in story is an answer. 

What exactly do we learn if Shigaraki is just “put down by the plot?” 

That some people don’t get saved? But we already knew that at the start of the story. It is the literal first line in the story. By that logic Deku should never have gotten All Might’s Quirk, because he was unlucky enough to be born without it. The point of stories is that they challenge the status quo, change it, and then resolve it. My Hero Academia is not a cynical story, it’s about using effort to change and overcome the things that are unfair about the world rather than just succumbing to the world’s flaws around you. It’s a story where the system can be overcome, where the heroes are expected to be heroes and do better to make up for the failures of the previous generation. 

At the start of the story Shigaraki was just another villain to take down, if that’s his final fate at the end of the story then there was no point in following him for hundreds of chapters. He could have just been a villain that disappeared after the first arc, and then got replaced by Stain, and then got replaced by Chisaki, and then by Re-Destro. 

The point is the story is choosing to focus on Shigaraki’s growth and development because the author plans to go somewhere with it. Since My Hero Academia is thematically about saving people, and Shigaraki is the most difficult character too save, but also emblamatic of the victims that society creates it makes thematic sense to save him. Your argument that Shigaraki only serves as a bad example of what could have happened to Eri had she not been saved does not work, because Eri is not an important character. She’s introduced in chapter 129, as opposed to Shigaraki who makes an appearance in chapter 13. 

As someone who loves the Overhaul arc, and who adores Eri, at this point Eri is not that much of her own character. She basically exists for two reasons, the relationship she has with three important characters (Eraserhead, Mirio, Deku) and also the plot point that her quirk is a weird macguffin that needs to be studied. Despite being in a highly volatile and violent environment as a child, Eri shows almost no negative signs of her abuse at all (that is getting violent herself, acting out, lashing out) and is basically gets over most of it writing wise by having a fun day at a concert. Once again, I don’t think this is bad, it’s just that Eri isn’t as important to the plot so she’s written the best she can with the limited amount of focus she’s given. 

Eri is entirely there for her relationships to other characters. Therefore, it makes far more sense that Eri is there to serve Shigaraki’s storyline, not the other way around. 

See let’s use star wars. Darth Vader is there to be a negative foil to Luke, to show a jedi who fell to the dark side as Luke’s literal father. The possibility that Luke can fall to the dark side is present in his connection to Darth Vader. However, the reason Darth Vader does not get a full redemption arc in the original trilogy is that Luke is far more important a character being the main character. 

As opposed to Eri who is just a side character, compared to the literal second most plot important character. Shigaraki is connected to the conflict with All for One which is the central conflict of the story, and he was born into it rather than Deku who inherited it from All Might. Shigaraki is connected to the idea that some people are not saved by Hero Society, and are victims who fall through the cracks and then grow up to be villains. Shigaraki is connected to the idea that some people’s quirks are not really able to fit into society if they are actively destructive and dangerous, that some people have more villainous quirks and are therefore stigmatized and not help. Shigaraki is connected to the conflict with Endeavor because Dabi is his right hand man. He was connected to the Stain conflict due to AFO pulling them together. 

Finally, yes there are villains who like Shigaraki could have been saved but are defeated instead and their backstory only exists to make them a tragic character. Chisaki is the biggest example that I can think of, because he’s a heavy character foil to Shigaraki, they were both abandoned as children and picked up by father figures in crimminal syndicates who ultimately saw them as tools. 

However, the difference between Chisaki and Shigaraki lies in the writing. Shigaraki has a character arc, and Chisaki does not. Shigaraki exists in several arcs and persists in the story, and Chisaki disappears after one arc. Which is the point, that what we’ve been shown makes the prospect of Shigaraki’s salvation more likely, because we’ve been shown he’s capable of growing and changing. Shigaraki, just like any character in the plot screws up and then when his screw ups explode in his face he learns and gets better. 

Shigaraki is introduced as a character who cares nothing at all about his allies, is fickle, gives up easily. He is almost exactly what All for One raised him to be, a symbol of fear, who kills for no reason, and seems to only exist to destroy and hurt others. 

All for One’s intentions were to make Shigaraki someone with no positive emotions, someone with no positive qualities, no positive relationships. Someone who is only capable of hating, only lashing out in anger. Hanging onto those negative emotions completely stunted his growth and made him incapable of developing as a person.

When he is first introduced, Shigaraki is not his own person but acting exactly as All for One wants him to be. However, the point of Shigaraki’s failure in not only this arc but the next arc is that Shigaraki is told again and again that his methods do not work. None of his allies want to work with him, he cannot make his plans work because he’s just attacking for the sake of attacking without an objective. He’s also entirely dependent on what All for One gives him, and can’t really accomplish anything on his own, and has to use the fallen king of evil’s vast amount of resources. 

He throws tantrums, he loses out on potential allies, he squanders resources on his petty little emotions. The point is not only does Shigaraki fail again and again, but it’s also something he’s consitently called out on. When he fails, he does not get the results he desires, and nobody coddles him for it. 

Shigaraki is told that if he wastes his allies then he’ll be a failure by Kurogiri. 

Deku tells Shigaraki to his face that Stain is a better viallin then him, and more people believe in Stain, because he doesn’t give up that quickly, because he gives them something to believe in and a reason to fight. 

Shigaraki’s plan to kidnap Bakugo to find sympathizers completely blows up in his face (quite literally as well), and not only does Bakugo lecture him yet again, but he loses the one support system he had in All for One as a result of his failure. 

Not only does Shigaraki lose the security and infinite amount of redos that he had, he also feels the consequences to his actions for the first time. 

An intentional move on All for One’s part to make Shigaraki realize he is responsible for his own actions now, and cannot be like a child having their parental figure clean up all of their messes for them. A move that forces Shigaraki to grow up on his own. 

It’s also no surprise that by the time that by the next time we cut to Shigaraki, he’s learned to value people more. After all, he’s now lost the one person he did have an attachment to in his life and he knows what that pain feels like. Not only does Shigaraki in the Chisaki arc get lectured and have his past failures held against him yet again as a person.

Shigaraki’s lack of a plan, and how much he let allies slip out of his hands in the past are both things that he is criticized for, and also something he faces a direct consequence for. Due to the fact that he was not enough on his own to bring Chisaki into line, in the resulting Melee in the league vs the Yakuza magne dies, and not only that Shigaraki also has to bow his head down to Chisaki and agree to work under him in order to get what he wants this arc. 

It’s at this point we see Shigaraki’s growth as a leader. He’s no longer someone who does not care about his allies, because he speaks to them on a personal level, and also takes responsibility for his failings and mistake. He’s learned the value of his allies, and how to speak with them. This is a complete 180 from the person who tried to kill Toga when she first met him because he annoyed her. 

However, his victory against the Yakuza and choosing to pursue personal vengeance over joining hands with the Yakuza is also something that has consequences for Shigaraki. 

They are out of money, directionless, and his own allies are questioning him because he doesn’t make it clear what he wants to do for them, or what his goals are. Even though the League of Villains is close, they’re not sycophants like Kurogiri, so they don’t just unquestioningly do whatever he says or put up with him. They actively call him out. 

Not only that, but Shigaraki is called to prove himself yet again. He’s called out for accomplishing nothing, despite starting out with the vast amount of resources that All for One gave him. The league of Villains has notoriety and not much else, because at the moment it consists of a core group of homeless twenty year olds strapped for crash and stayin in a dump. 

However, Shigaraki’s character arc is not an arc that just develops him as a villain. He also develops as a person as well. Shigaraki himself is aware of the fact that even if he were to become the perfect king of the villains and All for One’s successor that’s not something that would satisfy him.

Yes, characters are defined by their choices. Shigaraki can make choices now and those choices have meaning. But it’s also important to remember that there’s no such thing as a person with 100% free choices to define who they are. There are choices you get, and things that are chosen for you, and a lot of times especially in stories characters are defined by what they choose when given the choice.

Shigaraki has consistently chosen to value his allies, ask people to believe in him, connect on an emotional level, and even to try to save the people who are on his side when they are lost. These are not things All for One would choose, because All for One raised sycophants and disposable pawns. We see when Shigaraki is given the choice, he chooses to grow on his own to be a better person, despite being met with constant failure. At no point does he give up, or give in. 

By being what All for One wants him to be, Shigaraki completely fails as a person. He only starts to grow and change for real when allowed to be his own person. When he grows independently from All for One, he shows positive character growth that a person who is supposedly past the point of no return should be incapable of. 

Shigaraki at the start of the manga was an insane misanthrope with no social skills at all, who was fickle, gave up, barely tried, and just wanted to lash out. 

Shigaraki now is a person who values his allies, is capable of planning for things in advance, has the determination to fight an impossible battle against an entire city for the sake of one ally, and was clever enough to actually win that fight. If Shigaraki cannot be saved, then why have we already seen him heal to this point? Why are we shown he is capable of change and improving as a person? 

Shigaraki is constantly told how terrible he is and is forced to grow. The most Deku does is occasionally break his bones.  

#2  Bakugo and Enji

Saying that Bakugo and Enji are characters more redeemable then Shigaraki is a pointless statement to me, because Enji and Bakugo are already tied thematically to Shigaraki’s plotline. You cannot have one without the other. You see, because Bakugo and Enji are both explorations of the idea that there’s more to being a hero than just punching villains. 

This is the ideal end point of Deku and Bakugo’s rivalry. That both of their ways of idealizing heroes are misguided, because Deku always hurts himself too much because he prioritizes saving others over his own safety, and Bakugo cannot save others because he is a hero mainly to be the strongest, and to defeat villains. 

Which is one of the critiques of hero society that the story has offered, that there are heroes who are in it not to save other people, but to be the strongest. Which is an unhealthy attitude, because it leads to Bakugo bullying Deku for years over his fear that Deku was looking down on him, and Enji taking out his feelings of failure on his own family. 

Bakugo and Enji are not good heroes, specifically because they would never save someone like Shigaraki. Their priorities are not in helping victims to begin with, just beating up villains because they want to feel strong. If the story is thematically about saving others, it makes sense then that these two characters would be challenged to, yanno, save people. 

If the Ultimate Ideal end of Bakugo and Deku’s relationship is someone who will always win, and save others, then it makes sense for Deku to grow into someone who would not lose to Shigaraki, but also someone who would refuse to see Shigaraki as a victim and be capable fo saving him. 

Also, there’s almost a world of difference in the motivations between Bakugo + Enji and Shigaraki. Bakugo’s backstory is that everybody told him how special he was and he put too high expectations on himself. Now, that was mainly an oversimplication (I have done an entire post on how Bakugo pressuring himself is relatable and also his behavior is a failure on the part of the adults around him to reason with him and discipline him because he’s still a child, just check my mha meta tag)

The things which shaped Shigaraki into the person he became he had almost no control over. What happened to his family was a freak accident, All for One finding him was due to who his grandmother happened to be no fault on his part. He was basically raised in a basement and his only exposure to the outside world was when All for One sent him out to kill people. 

Yet, despite being not responsible for a lot of things that turned him the way he was, Shigaraki takes a lot of personal responsibility for his growth. It is on Shigaraki to learn from his mistakes and right those things. When he fails, Shigaraki takes the brunt of the failure. 

Yet, we have people like Enji who for the most part just blames the circumstances around him and does not change. The reason people want Shigaraki to get exploration as a character is because he does change, and he takes personal repsonsibility to improve himself and faces consequences for his action. Enji faces no consequences for his actions beyond the people he abused not liking him, and he still stays the same person. He still only values individual strength, he still fights by using flashy moves to defeat villains while critically endangering civillains. 

Bakugo is a kid, and he’s also learning to build bridges with Deku instead of repeating his behavior in the past, so he’s capable of change and resolving the conflict of his character that he can be a strong person good at defeating villains but that does not necessarily make him into a good hero.

Shigaraki has also demonstrated that he is a person capable of taking responsbility for his mistakes, and changing to be better. The reason he’s being explored as a character is because he can change. 

Endeavor in his refusal to change far more fits the bill as a tragic example that you were trying to talk about in your response, because that’s how stories are written. Stories are all about development, and change.

[nclkafilms]

The absurdity of fanaticism

(Review of ‘Jojo Rabbit’. Seen in Biffen Art Cinema, Aalborg on the 23rd of January 2020)

“Let everything happen to you, Beauty and terror, Just keep going, No feeling is final.” (Rainer Maria Rilke)

Taika Waititi received his commercial breakthrough with ‘Thor: Ragnarok’, which followed indie hits such as ‘What We Do in the Shadows’ and ‘Hunt for the Wilderpeople’. He is one of those directors with a very clear style and vision, and he continues with a unique style in his latest film: nazi satire and self-proclaimed anti-hate-film, ‘Jojo Rabbit’. As if the notion of making a comedy/satire about Nazi Germany was not controversial enough, it certainly raised some eyebrows when he cast himself, half maori and half jew, to star as Adolf Hitler. And ever since it premiered, ‘Jojo Rabbit’ has divided audiences and critics alike into more or less three groups: those, who are deeply offended by its lack of political correctness and comedic take on one of history’s most tragic events, those, who think it is not dangerous enough or does not expose the horrors of the holocaust enough, and, finally, those who has been charmed, entertained, provoked and moved by a perfectly balanced mix of slapstick humour and gut punching drama. I, myself, sit firmly in the third group - ‘Jojo Rabbit’ is a wonderful piece of filmmaking.

We follow 10-year-old Johannes Betzler, better known as Jojo, as he prepares for a weekend camp with the Hitler Jugend. We watch him as he proudly dresses up in his uniform before heiling his imaginary friend, Waititi’s Hitler, as if he was a sportsman preparing for a game before he ultimately shoots through town heiling at everyone to the tunes of the german version of The Beatles’ “I wanna hold your hand”, while we alternately see Jojo and b/w clips of Hitler being celebrated as a superstar complete with cheering girls and everything. A bizarre and weirdly entertaining opening scene that perfectly sets the tone of the film’s dark humour; nothing is sacred here. The story that follows is Jojo’s coming-of-age-story. A process that typically lasts years, but in the midst of a world war nothing is “typical”. Waititi manages to beautifully balance the naivety and blind-eyed fanaticism of young Jojo with the horrors and brutal reality of war as things start to spiral out of control for our main character from the moment he discovers a jewish girl hidden in the walls of his home. Where is her horns? Is she going to eat him? Why is his mum helping her? and what does it mean to love someone? Jojo is forced to discover the many feelings of life and following him on his journey is as hilarious and endearing as it is thought-provoking and tragic.

This is more than anything thanks to just 12-year-old debutant, Roman Griffin Davis, who is nothing short of a revelation as Jojo. The range that he shows in his portrayal of Jojo is simply spectacular. He truly has funny bones with both physical comedy and a great timing, but it is when the story gradually shifts from Wes Anderson-ish, bizarre, slapstick nazi satire to a much heavier and emotional war story that Griffin Davis really pulls the rug from under you. In the process of the film you both laugh at and with Jojo, you are shocked by him, you feel his excitement and loss, and most importantly you really care for him. This is, of course, down to Waititi’s screenplay and directing, but it would never have worked without Griffin Davis’ wonderful performance that really bodes well for his future.

In addition to him, the other actors also turn in some memorable performances. Scarlett Johansson is perfectly endearing as Jojo’s mother, Rosie, who has to raise him on her own, while hiding a jewish girl in the attic and manoeuvring through the hardships of war with a heavy heart from losing her daughter. The chemistry between Johansson and Griffin Davis is stunning and feels so natural that their mother-son-bond becomes one of the most heartwarming aspects of the film. Johansson shines just as much as Rosie shines as the film’s clearest ray of humanism and empathy. As Elsa, the hidden jewish girl, Thomasin McKenzie is fierce and strong with the inevitable vulnerability of an oppressed person hiding to save her own life. As such she represents all the jews who suffered from Holocaust while staying brave to save their own and loved ones’ lives. Just as with Rosie and Jojo, the chemistry between Elsa and Jojo is electric and it is an absolute delight to see how their relationship develops and becomes deeper and deeper the more they both get to see each other for what they see rather than what they have learned. As such they become the clearest symbol of the film’s obvious anti-hate, anti-prejudice moral.

In the other spectrum, Sam Rockwell, Alfie Allen and Rebel Wilson are all hilarious as absurd caricatures of Nazi officers blinded by their fanaticism and extremism. This is, of course, one of the film’s very divisive decisions; because the actions that they perform whether it be teaching children to shoot and use grenades or burning books and teaching lies about jews are obviously despicable - especially in the light of what happened during holocaust. So to turn this into something funny (and boy, is it hilarious) is a brave decision, but also a clever one. The things they do are so absurd that to simply show them as dreadful and horrible is sometimes too easy; showing the absurdity and making people laugh at it can be quite disarming and, frankly, relieving at times. Another example of this is Stephen Merchant’s unforgettable, yet short, cameo as Gestapo agent, Deertz, who is hilarious at first. You laugh at him only to find yourself on the edge of your seat seconds later as the tone shifts and the scene becomes immensely nerve-racking. Now Deertz’ absurd behaviour is intense and in no way funny. Waititi disarms you by exposing you to the hilarious absurdity of this character only to catch you off guard shortly after and hit you with reality. He does this in another simply devastating scene that stands as one of the single biggest gut punches that I have had in the cinema for a while; leaving me with my mouth wide open and a tear running from my eye.                 To round off the acting performances, Waititi’s own portrayal of Hitler never really becomes anything other than a funny sidenote that adds some interesting comments to the extremist thoughts roaming around Jojo’s head.  It’s funny and at times delightfully dark in its humour, but it - thankfully - never draws focus away from the other, much more interesting characters.

But let’s get back to this balance between the laughs and tears, because this is what lifts ‘Jojo Rabbit’ up as a stunning film experience. It works as a comedy/satire and it works as hard-hitting, thought-provoking drama. This is an insanely difficult balance to truly hit and only a few films manages it. ‘Jojo’ succeeds in being a hilarious comedy thanks, partly, to its well-written and delightfully politically incorrect screenplay by Waititi with so many great and memorable one-liners. But it is also because of its tight editing by Tom Eagles and brilliant score by Michael Giacchino, who supports the shifting nature of Jojo’s perspective through both joyful and more sorrowful compositions. As a drama it works - of course also thanks to the screenplay - because of a brilliant production design by Ra Vincent that often stands in great contrast to the absurd action unfolding in it. Finally, the costumes by Mayes C. Rubeo are simply delightful whether they are historically accurate or hilariously comedic as when Jojo roams the street as a robot gathering “metal for Hitler” or Rockwell and Allen take their final bow as some kind of absurd superhero devoid of all the human faults that they otherwise infuse their characters with.

And now let us return to the quote from the beginning of this review.

“Let everything happen to you, Beauty and terror, Just keep going, No feeling is final.”

This is not only a beautiful quote that gives us an important lesson on why not to give into hate and despair, it is also a quote that is mirrored in the film’s three main characters. Elsa remains hopeful and decent even when the entire world seems to hate her and want her dead. Rosie gives her son the love a mother should give despite him representing everything she fights against. And, finally, the film tells the story of how Jojo learns this lesson; to not be tempted by hate and the “easy exit” of jumping on the bandwagon, but to stay curious, to acknowledge love and to let it in. As such ‘Jojo Rabbit’ does not become “oh, that film that made fun of Hitler”. No, it becomes a film about the importance of experiencing and exploring the world around us. The importance of being curious and engaging with people despite our differences. Simply put: the importance of never forgetting love. It might not be in the absolute top of 2019 objectively, but personally, Jojo and Elsa danced their ways into my heart and my top 3 for 2019.

4,5/5

[lupinusalbus]

Jon Snow’s Ending - What a Mess

As everyone remembers, a theory that’s well known on Tumblr, known as “Political Jon”, held that Jon Snow bent the knee to Daenerys in season seven purely for political reasons, and not because he was in love with her.  Many people also thought this was connected to an attraction Jon Snow felt for his sister/cousin, Sansa Stark.

As season eight wore on, many were disappointed that there was not an overt confirmation of this theory, or parts of it, on the show by way of a direct comment to another character by Jon.  For example, in episode one of season eight, Sansa comes right out and asks Jon whether he bent the knee to Dany for the North or for love.  Jon’s reply to Sansa is abruptly cut off (as happened all too frequently in the last two seasons), so the audience didn’t get to hear his answer.  In the following episode, Sansa does tell Dany that Jon loves her, but since we never saw Jon’s answer, we aren't certain what was behind Sansa’s assertion, so this can’t be taken as definitive.

There was a frustrating lack of information about Jon’s point of view ever since season seven.  Some have speculated that this was done to keep Dany’s turn to the dark side more hidden for the audience, and this might very well be the case.

Throughout season eight what the audience got was a stoic, circumspect and difficult to read Jon Snow.  In truth, and as many have observed, Jon’s “romance” with Dany was just not believable from his side of it.  It was very easy to see that Dany remained smitten with Jon throughout season eight, in spite of her doubts around his Targaryen lineage; but the idea that Jon felt the same way about her was just not as plausible, or at the very least was open to interpretation.  What was believable was that Jon felt that he must keep his word to Dany by helping her take King’s Landing.  The romantic side of his feelings, if they were ever there at all, certainly turned into deep conflict once Jon found out the truth.  Dany, of course, sensed this and seemingly it contributed to her “turn”.

The question is, were Jon’s political actions (bending the knee for the North and then getting drawn into an ambiguous sexual liaison) written ambiguously on purpose, or is that giving D&D too much credit? Of course it is possible that the two were so intent upon cramming everything into six episodes that they simply omitted or left out scenes which would have given more information about Jon Snow’s motivations and feelings.  It’s very believable that Jon would place the survival of the North over his crown in importance; what gives people pause is making sense of his sexual/romantic entanglement with Dany in the context of the show’s ending. This is because it never seemed certain that he loved her, only that he felt indebted.

If the point of the show was to give us a tragic love story, then D&D failed. We were never sure if Jon really loved her, even before his Targaryen bloodline was revealed. If the show was supposed to be about Jon’s honor and how he had to go back on it, then we should have been given more scenes which explored his doubts as seen through the lens of his newly discovered birth story.  Instead the audience is given repeated declarations on Jon’s part about his fealty to “my Queen”.  The Jon  Snow of old, who was smarter, bolder, and less subservient, would certainly have had some frank exchanges with Dany about the meaning of power and how to best wield it.  Instead, Jon appears to be asleep at the wheel to the point of being shocked when Dany finally goes off in The Bells. The moral and compassionate Jon Snow that we know from the past does not seem to fully awaken until he confronts Dany in the throne room with his sudden talk about a “world of mercy”.  Where was this Jon Snow when he heard about the Tarleys, heard Dany talk about ruling by fear, and saw Varys burnt to a crisp?

One explanation ( a dark one, that could have been interesting) for what happened to him was given by Varys when he tells Tyrion that Dany has “overpowered” Jon and bent him to her will.  This does seem to be a possibility for what the show was trying to convey.  If Jon ever did love Dany, it had to be the heroic Dany who tried to save him from the Wights in season seven.  All the same, we saw that there was plenty of ambiguity thrown into the mix as Jon witnessed Dany’s imperious pronouncements about herself and her temper flare on the beach.  Varys thought that Dany’s powerful persona had overshadowed Jon and it appears this is the case.  Throughout season eight we see Jon has doubts about Dany, but he continues to follow her anyway and to defend her to the Starks.  The only time he defies her wishes is when he tells Sansa and Arya about his true parentage.

In the end, Dany wants to share the Throne in some way with Jon.  To her this is nothing more than an embracement of their shared Targaryen destiny, and would not be a departure from the Targaryens of old who often intermarried.  Jon is unable to continue their sexual relationship because he has qualms about incest, but he appears to be considering continuing his political fealty up until the very end when he questions Dany and sees the breadth of the threat she poses to the world and the Starks.

Jon’s Ethical Failure ?

Jon Snow is a well loved character because of his heroism and his humanity.  He is one of the few characters who seemingly had a firm moral compass and was willing to stand up for what is right.  But in season eight, Jon falls into a state of denial because of Dany’s overpowering influence. On the show there are four characters who see through Dany and understand the threat she poses.  First is Sansa, who doesn’t like Dany from the start, and who tries to influence events by telling Tyrion about Jon’s true name. Although the sisters’ dislike of Dany could have been better characterized, Arya sides with Sansa in her distrust of Dany. The other two people who have reservations about Dany are Samwell and Varys.  Sam tries to get Jon to see into Dany’s violent proclivities and convince Jon that he is the rightful heir.  Varys has noticed troubling things about Dany throughout seasons seven and eight, but finally acts when he learns about Jon.  Had Varys been successful, or had Sam convinced Jon about his claim, it is possible that the burning of King’s Landing would not have happened.

Jon didn’t listen to Samwell, Varys or his sisters  This can’t be denied, and his character never explains the deeper reasons for this.  Although Varys was seemingly stupid to talk to Jon openly on the beach about Jon’s claim, Jon really did refuse to at all entertain Varys’s misgivings about Dany. And Varys was not the only one.  Jon didn’t listen to any of the four people who at some point tried to warn him about Dany before she burned King’s Landing.  For this reason, Jon bears some responsibility for what Dany did.  He appears to start waking up during the siege; yet we see him apparently having doubts again in his conversation with Tyrion in episode six (She lost Missendei! She saw her Dragon shot from the sky!).  Then, Jon actually tells Tyrion that killing Dany “doesn’t feel right” in their last scene together.  If we are to take the writing as deliberately showing Jon as wavering, then the question is why.  How did this happen to his character?

The most logical explanation, and one that is somewhat in keeping with his character, is that honor was compelling him to be loyal to Dany no matter what.  This might have been more believable had we seen any real devotion from Jon towards her   at any point in the show.  Instead, it seems like he has simply been “bent to her will” as Varys says,  This is especially evident in the scene where Jon kneels in front of Dany after the feast. He seems almost desperate to appease her, even though he ultimately does tell his sisters about his real parents.  So instead of genuine devotion and love between Jon and Dany, what we see is that his true self is being absorbed by Dany to the point that he grovels.  

This is a sad thing to see happen to this character who was often bold and honorable to the point of being foolhardy up through season six. Still, viewers can’t be sure if this turn in Jon’s character is the result of his poorly rendered “love story” with Dany or just lazy and thoughtless writing which does not amply illustrate how he got this way.  But perhaps the observation given by Varys is the kindest one - he has been overpowered, and he finally woke up.  Seemingly Tyrion’s comment about the threat Dany posed to Sansa and Arya was the last straw,  yet it was confounding to see Jon later asking Tyrion whether they took the right action after all.  If genocide and the probable death of his sisters was not enough justification for Jon, then what ever could be?

In the end, there’s no getting around the sad fact that Jon’s character arc was pretty much wrecked.   If Jon was to be portrayed as having fallen for Dany, and then tragically seeing her true nature too late (a la Tyrion’s awakening); then he should not have been shown in his prison cell lamenting that his actions “didn’t feel right”.  This is just a dumb thing for him to say given that he had witnessed the horrific spectacle of genocide by burning, and especially after he had finally confronted Dany with justified moral indignation prior to stabbing her.  His character should have been allowed to be hit with the full and tragic dimensions  of what Dany had wreaked upon Westeros and his own part in creating it.  Instead we were given a wishy-washy portrayal where he accepts being nonsensically punished for saving the world from a tyrant.

The mess D&D made of his character (when they could have written something very compelling) is difficult to come to terms with after watching eight seasons of Game of Thrones.  None of this is a reflection on Kit Harington, who obviously put everything he had into this role.  His dedication to portraying Jon Snow makes the ending all that much harder to accept.  Sadly there are many more problems with the season that haven’t even been touched upon here.  The only consolation is that the Starks’ ending is pretty open ended and may be   reconciled in future books.

[scrambledgegs]

Dead Kids

     Filipino indie film, Dead Kids is more than your stereotypical coming-of-aged type of movie. The film centralizes around a group of middle to upper class, private high school students who conspire together and hatch an amateur plan to kidnap the resident school bully. By kidnapping him and holding him for ransom for Php 30 Million, they will be able to kill two birds with one stone – get even and teach their tormentor a lasting lesson, and secondly, get their hands on a hefty sum of money for personal reasons.

  In this respect, only one of the kidnappers seemed to have “the most valid reason” because unlike the other students in the private school, he is the only scholar and in “real” need of money to pay for college and other basic necessities. In fact, he resorts to various “rackets” just to keep financially afloat. He is constantly marginalized and unaccepted by his peers at school. This aspect of the movie also highlights social divides that plagues the Philippines as well, and is exacerbated by growing issues of entitlement among the wealthy and privileged.

As the movie unfolds, as expected, the group collectively bungle the kidnapping operations; they destroy families, dreams and lives. The movie is both comedic and tragic – which is why it really resonated with me. It is very real.

    What struck me the most was the formulation and execution of the whole plan – the scenes and dialogue hit close to home. I recalled my younger school-kid self, as well as my peers back in the day. We conversed very similarly, in a mix of Tagalog and English and used slang words. We also had the same, typical encompassing adolescent problems, the usual things like – school, grades, barkada, relationships, peer pressure, gimikan and yes, vices.

     The dark and stark difference however is that these kids are beyond your average group; they are quite scary. They are made of different stuff – they are very much alive, but at a young age, already seem dead inside, devoid of morals and values. To even think about kidnapping a classmate is one thing, but to actually have the resolve to execute the plan is really frightening. At one point, you will feel sorry for the kidnapped bully, despite what he has done to them individually in the past scenes. Adults are also hardly present in the movie. It is as though these kids live in a warped world with no authority and supervision. Mind you, this movie is based on actual events that transpired in 2018 among university students in Manila. The movie will really make you think about then and now, and the factors which are pushing our youth over the edge.

The Age of the Internet of things: Anxiety, Depression, Violence and Envy

    Dead Kids touched on many prevailing themes faced by our generation today – specifically by Millennials and now the Generation Z (Gen Z). Over and over again in the movie, social media was shown to play a disastrous effect on the psyche of these kids, mirroring what is happening in real life today. At a click of a button and swipe of fingertips, everyone knows what everyone else is doing because of social media, and that makes people compare themselves to others. This continuous, 24/7 exposure breeds anxiety, depression and envy – especially for young people who are unable to compartmentalize or differentiate social media lives from reality. Affected young people feel like they are just not good enough, as compared with for example: a classmate who has topped the class with the highest grades, or their athletic friend who has won a championship title, or another colleague who possesses the latest designer clothes, or an affluent friend who recently took a trip to Europe over summer vacation. They want to achieve or get their hands on the same things as quickly as they could, so that they too can post and boast about it online. Social media encourages instant gratification, and many of our young people forget the value of hard work and replace it with what they will call “passion” – in the form of unsteady and capricious whims. As a business professor of mine said, this generation is concerned “with reaching only the summit, but forget about the climb.” This could not be any truer.

Cyber-Bullying and Disconnection

    Let us also not forget the issue of cyber-bullying. As shown in Dead Kids, one of the kidnappers recalls how the resident bully is able to bully him in all mediums – physically in school, as well as online, in front of everyone, and get away with it. Those on the posting-end, who receive numerous likes, views and comments, feel as though their online taunts are encouraged and justified, and those as the object of cyber-bullying, feel as though they deserve this treatment. What makes it even worse is that nobody is really held accountable. You can easily see how this can make one spiral downwards in self-loathing and anger. It does not come as a surprise that the recent literature today speaks of significantly increasing rates of depression, aggression, anxiety – and even suicide among the youth. Another matter hand-in-hand with this are issues on personal connections, or the lack thereof. Why does it seem that young people today feel like they have no safe space or outlet to talk about what they are really going through? We have heard this before: that the more we are connected through the cyber world and technology, the more we have become disconnected in our actual and personal relationships.

Narcissism and Materialism

    There was also a memorable scene in Dead Kids during the drop-off of the ransom money at the agreed location. (The location happens to be real-life bar called 2020, in Pasong Tamo where I have been to a couple of time before, and coincidentally today is 02.20.2020). The ransom money is put together by the victim’s father, an alleged drug lord, and he places the money in a designer bag. The moment the bag is plopped in the center of the dance floor, amidst the blazing trap music and flashing neon lights, many girls race for it, not knowing its contents. The scene was done really well, and you just think to yourself, “Wow, have we really become this materialistic and shallow, that we would physically fight over a designer bag?” In turn, the raucous compromises the whole operation, and one of the girls is held at gunpoint.

The Death of a Nation

    I would go so far to say that I believe there is a breakdown of values in the Philippines and in the world today. We can blame social media, but ultimately, we also have to look inwards at ourselves.  Sometimes, we too propagate social injustices with our simple, unconscious actions.

    Our leaders as well have a responsibility. Unfortunately, the highest leader of the land, our incumbent President has not personified anything substantial to be emulated, but we are either gripped with fear, indifference or blind loyalty and let things be. Regarding his character alone, on TV for instance, our children watch our President curse and drop profanity in every statement likes there’s no tomorrow. They will grow up thinking that this is totally okay and cool, and then we wonder why we have dead kids. It is because we are becoming a Dead nation.

    Moreover, he has made rape jokes, sexist and sordid comments against women, demeaning statements against Pope Francis and the Church, but his supporters continue to make unfounded excuses for this behavior. Our journalists and media as well are being silenced with real threats – to livelihood and life. Those who attempt to speak out are punished without due process and are ridiculed in a dehumanizing manner – Senator Leila de Lima being the biggest example of this. Most importantly, he continues to justify his drug war and extra judicial killings through conjured up data and convoluted truths. Have we lost our sights on human rights, life and God? These scenarios seem all too familiar.

Parallelisms to Martial Law of the Marcos Regime

    We can draw many softer parallelisms of what is happening today to the atrocities of Martial Law under the 20-year Marcos dictatorship. Filipinos are truly quick to forget or love to choose to be ignorant. What I find truly unacceptable, that in this age where information is abundant and easily accessible, turns out many Filipinos, not just among the younger Millennials and Gen Z groups, but actually older people too, have a skewed version of Martial Law. They think it was a Golden Era of discipline and crime-free streets, not knowing about the countless and undocumented people who were imprisoned, murdered and tortured. To say the least, some do not even know Martial Law once existed in the Philippines. This ignorance and lack of information is not limited to just the uneducated, but persists even among private school educated Filipinos. Apparently, this part of Philippine history – Ninoy Aquino, Martial Law and the 1986 Edsa People Power Revolution is not really taught or emphasized in our education system. It is truly a tragedy because we Filipinos were the victors of this miraculous, peaceful revolt which ultimately toppled Marcos, and yet we have not been able write history as it should be.

    President Duterte was elected because he sold the idea that the Philippines can only be great again with an “iron-fisted” leader, the same dream that Marcos peddled to the Philippines. Today with President Duterte at the helm, the myth of the iron-fisted leader is again debunked, and now is an unfolding tragedy.

The Importance of Real, Personal Relationships

    The movie’s title, I’d like to believe, is a comment on the actual reality of extra judicial killings happening in the Philippines today, but the movie also tells us that being a Dead Kid means more than the literal sense. Perhaps we’ve all felt like a dead kid at some point in life. I personally know what it felt like to be one; I can say that I have felt it twice in my youth. I had lost my way, my purpose and felt dead inside. But what helped me conquer my demons? It was my support system composed of my family and various groups of friends. During my most vulnerable and weak moments, they had been there all along and instilled the strength I needed to bounce back. Very importantly as well, they were real friends who had the courage to intervene and tell me to my face when I was becoming the worst version of myself. You need these types of people – or you will really go through life thinking, either that you are completely alone or completely invincible.

    Many years later, now that I have a daughter, I know that I cannot shield her completely from the problems of the world, but I hope I can truly imbibe one of the most important qualities – and that is resilience. I know that like me, she will fail at things. She will get hurt. She will be rejected, at times, for no good reason. However, I want her to be tough, to be brave and rise to the occasion when needed. Giving up is not the answer. She must also remember to always be kind, fair and have integrity despite how unbelievable people can be. We are all dealt with a different deck of cards in life, but to be able to achieve that winning hand lies in you.

Generation Alpha

    Analysts have dubbed the Generation Alpha (Gen Alpha) as the generation that will succeed the Gen Zs. They are those born in 2010 up until the year 2025, supposedly the “children of the Millennials,” our children. I think about this movie Dead Kids, and then I think to myself that I do not want my daughter and our generation’s children to grow up with fractured values and distorted principles. Don’t you want to handover to your children, a world that you can be proud of?

    I am no expert, and I am no Mother Teresa, but I do know that as early as their formative years, we must be conscious and deliberate about the things we say and do – because they will mimic what they see. We must teach them what is morally wrong, even if it is deemed okay by society. The family unit is the very first thing that a child knows – so us as parents, or as older people wizened by life experiences, truly have that responsibility to set a good example. Education is also key for political consciousness and value formation.

    Like I said earlier, when I was going through tough times in my youth, what made all the difference were my family and friends. I was lucky enough to have grown up with the right group of friends – those that had a positive influence throughout my entire life. It was never about material things, but rather what was intangible and essential.

     We have to be very present and visible in our children’s lives – but to also give them sufficient space to grow and make mistakes. Of course, it is easier said than done – but the growing demographic of dead kids, both literally and figuratively, is today’s reality. I do not want to wake up one day and find that we have turned our children into Dead Kids.

[getoffthesoapbox]

[R:MotM] - Hwa-Gun vs. Ga-Eun

As I was browsing through various corners of the internet where fans of this show gather, I found increasingly I had a few things I wanted to say about the apparent differences between Hwa-Gun and Ga-Eun and why Hwa-Gun seems to be attracting so much interest despite being a secondary leading lady. I thought I’d explore this bit more, and maybe it’ll be useful to anyone who is looking for a different viewpoint to supplement their enjoyment of the show. =)

I didn’t come into Ruler with any preconceived notions about who was playing the heroine or which actress was being featured. I began watching Ruler fairly late in the game and was just in it to see a new sageuk that looked pretty. This maybe colors my perspective a little differently than those who’ve followed the story from the beginning.

From the beginning, it wasn’t initially clear to me who the leading lady would be, at least not until the crown prince chose Ga-Eun. Once he chooses Ga-Eun (very soon into the story), Hwa-Gun’s position as secondary heroine became solidified.

However, the viewership seems to fall into two camps: one camp which is disenchanted with Ga-Eun as a heroine and wishes Hwa-Gun held that position, and another which feels Hwa-Gun is where she should be and that Ga-Eun is the proper heroine, even if the writing doesn’t always feature her.

I personally fall between the two camps. I’m not at all disenchanted with Ga-Eun--I think she’s a lovely character and a charming girl. But I do find myself wistfully wishing as I watch the show that the creators had been brave enough to try the Hwa-Gun character as a heroine rather than a secondary lead. Since I understand the appeal of both sides, I thought I’d attempt to explore the draw and the appeal of the Hwa-Gun character, while still acknowledging the virtues of the Ga-Eun character. 

Capturing the Viewers’ Interest

On paper, there’s absolutely no reason why Hwa-Gun should be more interesting than Ga-Eun.

On paper, Ga-Eun is a perfect leading lady--she’s kind, sweet, loyal, and compassionate. She does everything right--her only flaw is that she perhaps jumps to conclusions too quickly and doesn’t investigate events thoroughly. But who could blame her, when these events involve the very emotional and tragic loss of her father, her only remaining family, and her entire life? She’s a brave girl who is well worthy of the leading lady position and the heart and affection of the crown prince. 

Unfortunately for Ga-Eun, her very worthiness renders her...a tad too safe, a tad too boring. And this would be fine if she were paired with a secondary lady of the usual secondary quality--a catty, ambitious, scheming girl who possessively latches onto the crown prince the way the false crown prince latches onto Ga-Eun. With a secondary lady of dubious quality, it’d be easy to root for Ga-Eun.

But Hwa-Gun is not such a simple character, nor is she lacking in her own charms. What Ga-Eun has in compassion, Hwa-Gun makes up for with wit, intelligence, and cunning. She’s a woman raised within the realm of power and politics, the granddaughter of the most powerful man pulling the strings in the land. She is a selfish, spoiled girl, but she’s by no means an unloving or unkind girl. While she is not as compassionate for the poor or the needy or the downtrodden as Ga-Eun is, she does have a deep and single minded love for the people who are closest to her, and to their people. This includes more than just the prince--her father, Gon, even her grandfather--and it’s within these conflicted loyalties that Hwa-Gun makes for a compelling and interesting character, in spite of her flaws. 

Flaws Make the Woman

I think the reason we now commonly see the call for Hwa-Gun to be the heroine (and I myself sympathize with this perspective) is for two reasons:

Real, genuine flaws in a heroine are unusual (especially in asian drama) and they make the viewer sympathetic because they touch on the viewer’s own humanity.

Hwa-Gun seems to be “earning” her happy ending where as Ga-Eun seems to be “receiving” hers. Viewers naturally gravitate toward characters who are active about solving their problems, even when inaction is more than justified (human nature to prefer action). 

Significant character flaws are rare for heroines in general, which is a strike against Ga-Eun from the gate. Hwa-Gun, as a secondary lead, is allowed the freedom to not be a perfect compassionate infantilized angel. She’s a woman, with dark sides, who is not always compassionate. But who in real life is always compassionate? Who in real life always does the right thing? Very few people, and even if you think you’re one of the exceptions, the chances are you aren’t truly in touch with yourself as well as you should be.

Everyone has dark impulses, and to see a secondary leading lady being allowed not only to have those impulses, but to not be vilified for them and to be treated with narrative dignity and respect is refreshing and probably is one of the things drawing the sympathy of some viewers. 

Development with the Crown Prince

One of the other problems with Ga-Eun is that she receives the Crown Prince’s love very early in the story, and thus has not much to “do” narratively other than feel betrayed by him temporarily when she finds out he might have been the one who killed her father. Perfect couples who are meant to be are boring for a viewer, especially over a long series like Ruler. 

On the other hand, Hwa-Gun’s efforts to act by the Crown Prince’s side and to keep him safe and alive begin to come off as more sympathetic when compared to Ga-Eun being gifted the prince’s love so early on in the story. Viewers like change and the unexpected, and so having the Crown Prince shift his affection to Hwa-Gun would make for an exciting twist after the predictability of his stable relationship with Ga-Eun. 

Of course, that’s not going to happen because the writers are very clear that the Crown Prince has no romantic feelings for Hwa-Gun. There isn’t even a shred of interest from his side, which also contributes to making Hwa-Gun appear more sympathetic. While, yes, it’s unhealthy for her to work so hard for a man who doesn’t love her, we can’t help who we love and everyone has felt the pain of an unrequited or unfulfilled love that lasted many years after it began. 

Relationship Balance

Another factor viewers root for in a pairing which I think might be overlooked in the overall discourse is relationship balance. If a character has too much of X, viewers prefer a partner who has Y to balance X, rather than another character who also has too much of X.

For example, Ga-Eun shares the Crown Prince’s ideals. This ordinarily would make for a lovely match in a pairing, because sharing values is very important for long term happiness in a couple. However, the Crown Prince is so idealistic and so moral that he doesn’t know how to break rules and sometimes puts himself stupidly in danger over foolish ethical quandaries. Ga-Eun, as yet another overly idealistic person, isn’t going to be able to pull him back from his foolishness because she supports all his causes. This is all well and good if these two would go off and be farmers or merchants together, but they’re going to be King and Queen. A little bit of self-preservation would be good in at least one of these characters for them to be hypothetically successful.

This is where Hwa-Gun surfaces as a “better” choice for the Crown Prince on a practical level. Hwa-Gun’s focus is different from the Crown Prince. She places a higher value on his life than on his ideals. However, she does not dismiss his ideals, nor do her own ideals conflict with his. She is perfectly happy to work in service to his goal, so long as she can keep him safe. This makes her arguably more suited to the task of standing at his side as Queen--she will fight his enemies and destroy everything in the path to his ideal, but she also won’t support any foolishness on his part and will help come up with counter plans that will preserve his life. 

The difference is very clear in episodes 29-30. Hwa-Gun first tries to persuade the Crown Prince just to take over the Pyunsoo Group. When that fails, she comes up with a second plan using her father’s antidote. Ga-Eun, on the other hand, simply tries to convince the Crown Prince to sacrifice her and “do the right thing,” which of course he would never do. The argument against Hwa-Gun’s method is that, of course, the Crown Prince would die before submitting to Dae Mok, as the Crown Prince himself points out with the analogy of the wolf and the bloody knife. However, as we see, the Crown Prince does what Hwa-Gun wanted him to anyway because he’d never sacrifice Ga-Eun or Chun-Woo. Ultimately, Hwa-Gun’s method was the method he took, not Ga-Eun’s. This demonstrates, yet again, that Hwa-Gun understands the Crown Prince’s situation better than he does, and that she’s a better planner to be at his side than Ga-Eun.

When a viewer sees this, although she may be moved by Ga-Eun’s selflessness, ultimately it’s just noble stupidity. If the Crown Prince hadn’t been immune to the poison thanks to his childhood experience, he’d be dead thanks to his refusal to play the game Hwa-Gun’s way. What does that mean for his court with Ga-Eun at his side? Results do matter as much as the process--having a kind process which ends in failure is no better than a cruel process which ends in results. The point is to strike the right balance so that the kind process leads to good results. 

Again, this isn’t to say the writers are in any danger of choosing the Hwa-Gun route; this is only to explain why some viewers may choose to prefer Hwa-Gun as a candidate for the Crown Prince. Hwa-Gun, for all her flaws as a person and her myopic focus on the few people she holds dear, is far better positioned to maneuver the political field than a nobleman’s daughter who grew up outside the palace. Viewers notice this (I had a similar situation when I began to support Yeonhwa for So during Moon Lovers’ run), and their allegiances may shift accordingly. 

Ultimately, while I think Ga-Eun is a fine heroine and certainly fills her role adequately, Hwa-Gun’s just a more interesting character in general thanks to her conflicted loyalties and her narrative position and her action-oriented plotlines. A standard sweet girl doesn’t stand much of a chance against an unusual smart girl. Ga-Eun had an uphill battle from the get-go.

This is not to say that Ga-Eun’s actress is inferior in any way. I think the fact that Ga-Eun is still able to endear herself to so many viewers in spite of her character’s narrative weaknesses is a testament to the strength of her actress. Hwa-Gun’s actress certainly isn’t as good, and her character’s being carried more by the strength of the character than the strength of the acting. 

Long story short, sometimes perfect heroines don’t have enough edge to them to carry the viewers’ interest. Sometimes viewers just want a little more from their characters, and if a secondary lady offers that, they’ll gravitate in her direction. I myself appreciate what Hwa-Gun brings to the show, and I hope her popularity leads to a new horizon for leading ladies in k-drama land. =) It’d be nice for creators to realize that sometimes it’s okay to let the ladies have some dark sides. In the meantime, fans of Ga-Eun should rest assured--her place as leading lady will never falter. Ruler belongs to her.

[bellabooks]

The Case for (Imagined) Queerness in the Works of Jane Austen

As 12 years of mandatory English classes taught us, a book’s impact and importance depend on a ton more factors than just “what the author decided the plot should be.” Every story is contextualized and processed by its individual readers. And if you think you understand the power of this reader/text relationship like the bookish queer youth does, oh boy are you out of your league. There’s an entire ocean of characters out there, and so shamefully few of them are non-hetero. Fan fiction, fan art and extensive Tumblr analyses abound trying to engineer Queer Subtext for any book, movie or television show you can imagine. LGBTQ folk are experts at collecting scraps of dialogue, stray looks or ambiguous moments, pinning them to the cork board of Accidental Queer Representation and connecting them with the red yarn of, uh, Extremely Biased Interpretation? Much like the metaphor in that last sentence, these cobbled-together narratives are often flimsy at best, but we stand behind them with conviction. See? I’m a weathered professional at holding together a trembling, papier-mâché construct despite all evidence to the contrary! Plenty of heteronormative franchises and stories have been given new life by the queer reader’s re-programming, but I have felt mostly alone in my bold quest to Gay Up the works of Jane Austen. These stories all at least partially revolve around the stirrings of Heterosexual Love in the hearts of young women and naturally have been favored mostly by my exceedingly hetero, female-identifiying peers. Therefore I have taken it upon myself to do this heavy lifting on behalf of the Queer Agenda. I have labored intensely for many years, and now at long last I present my findings on a few of Jane Austen’s most notable works.   Mansfield Park for Queer Youth Ah, Mansfield Park. The story of a mousy, impoverished heterosexual young woman fending off the advances of a wealthy and charming young heterosexual man in order to ultimately commit to an austere and boring heterosexual young man. Or is it?   Exhibit A: Mary Crawford, The Original Girlcrush   When Miss Mary Crawford and her wealthy and charming heterosexual brother Henry move into the neighborhood, young Fanny Price and her better-off cousins the Bertrams find their lives turned upside-down. Perhaps not quite in the way you would think. Miss Crawford’s beauty did her no disservice with the Miss Bertrams. They were too handsome themselves to dislike any woman for being so too, and were almost as much charmed as their brothers with her lively dark eye, clear brown complexion, and general prettiness. (Chapter 5) The first half of this excerpt is a very informative piece of intel on the lives of conventionally attractive, straight women. (Finally, Taylor Swift’s #girlsquad makes sense!) The second half, however, is queer as hell if you just believe hard enough. “Almost” as much charmed? Come on, Austen. Just give it to us straight. (Uh, no pun intended.) Everyone is in love with Mary Crawford, which is beautiful and tragic. The Bertram daughters are bound by custom and convention to marry men, but in the depths of their hearts, they clearly yearn to leave it all behind and run away with Mary.   Exhibit B: Wait, Is Mary Crawford after Edmund or Fanny?   The ongoing flirtation between Mary and Edmund is explicit enough. While they turn out to be ill-suited for one another, the initial sparks between them cannot be denied. Only slightly more subtle, however, is Mary’s fascination with Fanny which leads the two women to spend the majority of their free time together. Such was the origin of the sort of intimacy which took place between them within the first fortnight after the Miss Bertrams’ going away—an intimacy resulting principally from Miss Crawford’s desire of something new, and which had little reality in Fanny’s feelings.”(Chapter 22) Mary, girl, we’ve all been there. Experiment away! Bless Jane Austen for this completely unintended example of much-needed bisexual representation.   Exhibit C: Fanny Just Wants a Beard I have always found protagonist Fanny Price’s rejection of rich, effusive and affable Henry Crawford in favor of her stoic and dare I say withholding cousin Edmund Bertram to be one of the most frustrating heterosexual choices in literature, which is already full to bursting with the baffling entanglements of straight people. Ostensibly, Fanny has chosen a life of quiet morality as worth more to her than indulgence and having fun and being happy. And at first glance, the moral of this story seems to be the bland and inoffensive message that it’s actually okay for straight women to love solemn contemplation and quiet alone time and reading indoors on a rainy day. Oh, and being sexually attracted to one’s first cousin too, obviously. But is there perhaps a more original and insightful takeaway from this novel? Of course there is! Arguably, a queer reading of Mansfield Park is the only thing that would explain why in the end, Fanny falls for the least threatening or exciting man she has ever met. It also explains her intense discomfort with male attention. (She’s described in Chapter 21 as “almost as fearful of notice and praise as other women were of neglect.”) She’s not looking for sex appeal or chemistry, because she knows she will never find them in a man, nor does she want such a thing. The best case for Fanny is a dependable and amiable enough life partner with whom to pay the bills, share in life’s various duties and sleep in separate beds. Edmund is certainly that.   Emma, Obviously in Denial   In addition to having the most personally relatable protagonist I have ever encountered, Emma is coincidentally also the easiest of Jane Austen’s works to jam into a queer-shaped mold. You can read a good 85% of this novel as the story of a lady-loving lady in very deep denial struggling with the heterosexual inclinations of all the women she cares for. Unfortunately things go a little off the rails when Emma finally realizes her love for Mr. Knightley, which is difficult to handwave away seeing as how it is actually a rather compelling Heterosexual Romance. We’ll just ignore this minor detail that is arguably the culmination of the entire novel and focus on the rest.   Exhibit A: Feelings? For Men?   We are often reminded in this book that Emma has little to no interest in ever marrying. And why would she? She does not lack for money or status. Her only reason to marry would be True Hetero Love. “I have none of the usual inducements of women to marry. Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing! but I never have been in love; it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall.” (Chapter 10) Okay but is it not your nature to be in love or to be in love with men? Maybe this requires just a bit more introspection, Emma. Indeed, let us examine Emma’s attempted quasi-relationship with Frank Churchill. Emma realizes that she feels left out of all the fun watching her friends fall in love and circle through flirtations and makes the decision to get a crush on Frank with the aim of adding a little excitement to her life. (Relatable!) She notices that there seems to be something missing in her feelings for Frank, but she boldly soldiers on through the motions of being In Love so as to better fit in. Eventually, even Emma, queen of self-delusion that she is, cannot continue to pretend to love a man as anything more than a friend. But, on the other hand, she could not admit herself to be unhappy, nor, after the first morning, to be less disposed for employment than usual; she was still busy and cheerful; and, pleasing as he was, she could yet imagine him to have faults; and farther, though thinking of him so much, and, as she sat drawing or working, forming a thousand amusing schemes for the progress and close of their attachment, fancying interesting dialogues, and inventing elegant letters; the conclusion of every imaginary declaration on his side was that she refused him. Their affection was always to subside into friendship…When she became sensible of this, it struck her that she could not be very much in love. (Chapter 13) Because “I can like Men if only I just try hard enough” has always worked out!   Exhibit B: I Only Sabotaged My Best Friend’s Relationship For Her Own Good   Who among us hasn’t vehemently encouraged our dearest friend Harriet to turn down the advances of a perfectly lovely boy whom she likes very much ostensibly because he’s not good enough but actually because lurking in the deepest recesses of our subconscious, we could not bear to see her with someone else? This is so classic, I could rest my case right here. I probably spent my entire teenhood trying to subtly manipulate my secret lady crushes into dumping their boyfriends. “I lay it down as a general rule, Harriet, that if a woman doubts as to whether she should accept a man or not, she certainly ought to refuse him. If she can hesitate as to ‘Yes,’ she ought to say ‘No’ directly. It is not a state to be safely entered into with doubtful feelings, with half a heart. I thought it my duty as a friend, and older than yourself, to say thus much to you. But do not imagine that I want to influence you.” (Chapter 7) I would never tell you what to do! I’m just saying maybe think about it. And while you’re thinking about it, think about the fact that you’re thinking about it. If you really loved him, would you even need to think about it? Makes you think, doesn’t it?   Exhibit C: Serial Monogamy   On the topic of Harriet, let’s take a closer look at a pattern of behavior Emma seems to set up. She was exceedingly close to Mrs. Weston, her old governess-turned-best-friend before this woman had the nerve to move out and get married to a man. Emma, drowning in sorrow at the loss of this relationship, cannot handle being single and working on herself for a while, therefore she immediately turns her faculties to selecting herself a new girlfriend. When Emma decides that Harriet shall be her next life partner, she cleaves to her wholly and immediately. Harriet must accompany Emma on all her errands, must call on her nearly daily and must attend every party Emma attends as well. The poor girl doesn’t know how to exist without being in the constant company of a woman who adores her. Have I mentioned how relatable Emma is enough times yet?   Pride and Prejudice and Homosexuality Yes, Pride and Prejudice is perhaps the most Heterosexual piece of literature ever written at first glance, but please! Do not doubt my ability to make Austen’s most enduring triumph Extremely Gay. I told you I was a professional. By the time my case is finished, you will see that Pride and Prejudice is one of the queerest classic works in the canon.   Exhibit A: Uhhh, Why Do Darcy and Bingley Have to Be Together All the Time?   Darcy has Pemberley. Bingley has enough money to buy any property he pleases. There is no reason these boys need to follow each other from estate to estate, attending parties together, traveling to all the same boroughs. Darcy, if you hate the country so much, why don’t you just go live at home in your home that you own? You know, the home that everyone constantly talks about how incredible it is? The home you can just ride a horse over to right now? That home? Darcy gets a lot of guff for convincing Bingley not to propose to Jane. And yeah, that screams Jealous Secret Crush on Darcy’s end. But one must also wonder why Bingley would have been so very easy to persuade. If he truly wanted to marry Jane, I think it would have taken more than a slight nudge from his platonic best bud to ghost her the way he did. I mean, he didn’t just stop answering her texts. He moved himself and his family out of town. However, it doesn’t seem quite so inexplicable to dump one’s beard at the urging of one’s Secret Boyfriend now does it?   Exhibit B: Everyone Is Gay for Georgiana   “I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting…” (Chapter 21) I swear to God, no one in this book will ever shut up about Georgiana Darcy. We get it! She’s so very beautiful and kind and charming and talented! The Bingley sisters practically salivate over her. Lady Catherine admires her in her own grumpy old elitist way. Elizabeth finds her fully delightful. Everyone is obsessed with Georgiana. She’s like the Shane McCutcheon of Regency England.   Exhibit C: Relax, Elizabeth, People Get Married.   Elizabeth has decidedly no interest in marrying the human embodiment of Oblivious Mansplaining, Mr. Collins. Elizabeth’s best friend Charlotte Lucas, however, seems to think the constant stream of ignorant babble is worth the cash money. So she locks it down, infuriating Elizabeth. She had always felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was not exactly like her own, but she had not supposed it to be possible that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly advantage. Charlotte the wife of Mr. Collins was a most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen. (Chapter 22) Lizzy. We get that you weren’t into him, girl, but why are you, like… so upset about this? Could it be that your dearest partner and secret love Charlotte has accepted a Heterosexual Union. And immediately after you yourself made such a display of rejecting one? Ouch!   Sense and Sensibility   Guys, I tried with this one. I really did. But all the women in this book are related and also obsessed with dudes. I thought I could stick it to the straight people, but I must regretfully concede that this task is beyond even my expertise. If anyone has a queer angle on this one though, please contact me immediately. We queers have always been around, even when every offshoot of culture has tried to erase us from existence. Yeah, it’s super fun to retroactively barge our way back into old literature. But it’s also a much-needed assertion that we exist, we matter and we deserve to see ourselves. Even in light-hearted novels about manners and marrying rich and falling in love with one’s first cousin. Ashley Chupp is a Chicago-based writer, crossword enthusiast and frequent crier at the local Trader Joe’s.   Gif 1: fibu.tumblr.com Gif 2: teenvogue.tumblr.com Gif 3: BBC Gif 4: bringmybooks.com http://dlvr.it/PZ94CB

[kuwaiti-kid]

The 15 Best Star Wars: The Clone Wars Episodes of All Time

With the final season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars airing on Disney+, it seems like the perfect time to take a look back at the past episodes, story arcs, and characters that led to its success.

Set in the three years between Star Wars: Attack of the Clones and Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith George Lucas’ animated creation had a theatrical debut in 2008 before airing on Cartoon Network for six years.

In 2013, the series moved to Netflix for what was believed to be its sixth and final season following its cancellation and a set of unfinished episodes known as “Clone Wars: Legacy” were released by Dave Filioni, the series’ supervising director in an attempt to wrap up unfinished arcs.

At San Diego Comic-Con in 2018, Lucasfilm surprised fans with the announcement that the series would return for a seventh and final season, wrapping up the loose ends on its new home on Disney’s streaming service. 

While every episode of Clone Wars is arguably the best episode of Clone Wars, this list breaks down the 15 episodes that made the series a fan favorite. 

The 15 Best Clone Wars Episode of all Time

“Rookies” (Season 1, Episode 5)

“The best confidence builder is experience.” 

This list would not be complete without the inclusion of at least one episode from the first season. Faced with the threat of a droid commando invasion, a unit of five rookie clones must work together to prevent disaster. The episode introduces audiences to Fives and Echoes, clone troopers that eventually become an integral part of the story.

Up until this point in time, Star Wars hadn’t addressed the human element behind the clone trooper helmets, and the episode goes to great lengths to show the effects of war on the clones, and it explores their individual personalities.

Tragically, only Fives and Echoes survive, and the loss of their fellow troopers weighs heavily on them when they’re inducted into the 501st Legion at the close of the episode. 

“Senate Spy” (Season 2, Episode 4)

“A true heart should never be doubted.” 

This is an excellent episode for fans of Anakin and Padmé’s relationship, especially those who enjoy how complicated their relationship is. Their time alone is interrupted by the Jedi Council requesting that Padmé spy on a fellow senator, Rush Clovis.

She initially refuses their request, but ultimately chooses to follow through with the plan out of anger when Anakin acts jealous about her past relationship with Clovis. During her meeting with Clovis on Cato Nemoidia, Padmé is poisoned by Trade Federation, Senator Lott Dod.

Despite being poisoned, Padmé is able to steal a holodisk with plans for a droid factory and get them to Anakin. Clovis forces Dod to hand over the antidote, and Anakin and Padmé leave. This mission sets up a great arc throughout the season with the tension between Clovis, Anakin, and Padmé. 

“Weapons Factory” (Season 2, Episode 6)

“A gift is more precious than trust.” 

Ahsoka Tano is arguably one of the best additions to the Star Wars universe, and this episode showcases her perseverance when faced with a challenge. Anakin and Jedi Master Unduli fend off droids, while their Padawans Ahsoka and Barriss attack the droid factory.

When the factory explodes, Ahsoka and Bariss are trapped under the debris, and Unduli believes them to be dead, but Anakin doesn’t give up hope. 

“The Mandalore Plot” (Seasons 2, Episode 12)

“If you ignore the past, you jeopardize the future.”

The first episode in a three-part storyline surrounding Duchess Satine, leader of the New Mandalorians. Her pacifistic beliefs in the face of the war between the Grand Republic and the Separatists, have led to her being the target of the rogue Mandalorian group, the Death Watch.

Obi-Wan Kenobi travels to Mandalore to discover the truth behind the rumors, working alongside Satine to unravel the plot. It is revealed that Governor Vizsla, an associate of Count Dooku, is the leader of the Death Watch and behind the plot to overthrow Satine’s pacifist regime.

Brandishing a Darksaber, Vizsla is ultimately defeated by Obi-Wan, who escapes with Satine at the close of the episode. 

“Voyage of Temptation” (Season 2, Episode 13) 

“Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.” 

Aboard Satine’s ship, the Coronet, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Anakin Skywalker brief the clone troopers on the situation and the importance of protecting the Duchess. As Anakin watches interactions between Obi-Wan and Satine, he discerns that they were once close.

Later on in the episode, Satine confesses that she loves Obi-Wan, and he admits that he would’ve left the Jedi Order for her. This revelation is one of the most exciting parts of the arc, especially in juxtaposition to Anakin and Padmé’s secret relationship. 

The plot continues as Senator Tal Merrik takes Satine hostage, rigging the engines of the Coronet to explode if Obi-Wan tries to rescue her. Amid a moral quandary — if Satine kills Merrik, she is not a pacifist, and if Obi-Wan kills Merrik, he loses Satine’s respect — Anakin attacks the senator from behind and kills him, as Darth Vader’s theme plays in the background, an ominous ode to the future. 

“Clone Cadets” (Season 3, Episode 1) 

“Brothers in arms are brothers for life.”

This is another excellent episode exploring the lives of the clone troopers and is a prequel to the episode “Rookies.” It also introduces 99, a malformed clone that leads to the creation of Clone Force 99 (or the Bad Batch), who play a crucial part in the final season of Clone Wars.

The story follows the Domino Squad as they prepare for graduation from their training on Kamino, but the team is dysfunctional, and they fail their tests. CT-782 (later known as Hevy) attempts to go AWOL but is stopped by 99, who reinforces the importance of brotherhood among the Clones.

It’s this interaction that ultimately leads to Hevy sacrificing himself in “Rookies” to save his team. 

 “Nightsisters” (Season 3, Episode 12)

“The swiftest path to destruction is through vengeance.” 

Darth Sidious plots with Count Dooku to destroy Asajj Ventress, fearing that she has grown too powerful. Ventress is enraged when Dooku refuses to offer assistance when she faces off against Obi-Wan and Anakin.

Left alone with a malfunctioning ship, she is taken by a scavenging crew who she ultimately kills when she commandeers their vessel to return home to the Nightsisters. The episode delves into Ventress’ backstory — how her mother sold her to slavers, and she was rescued by a Jedi Knight, how his death led to her path to the Dark Side when Count Dooku had taken her in. 

“Overlords” (Season 3, Episode 15)

“Balance is found in the one who faces his guilt.”

In the first of a three-part arc, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka are sent to investigate a mysterious Jedi distress signal. During their journey, the power and communications are cut off on their shuttle, and they awake on an unfamiliar planet where the Force seems to radiate. Only Anakin can hear the disembodied voice of the Daughter who desires to take him to her Father.

The episode focuses on Anakin’s path to the Dark Side and his fate as the “Chosen One.” Strange visions visit the three Jedi — Anakin’s mother Shimi appears, revealing his guilt over her death and his relationship with Padmé; Obi-Wan is visited by the Force Ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn who warns him that the planet will corrupt Anakin; Ahsoka is visited by a vision of her future self who warns that she should cut herself off from Anakin’s dark path.

The Father forces Anakin to face a test to decide who will live, as the Son and Daughter have taken Ahsoka and Obi-Wan. Ultimately, Anakin uses the Force to free both of his friends. The “Imperial March” plays as Anakin attempts to leave the planet with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, yet again alluding to his future path to the Dark Side. 

“Altar of Mortis” (Season 3, Episode 16)

“He who surrenders hope, surrenders life.” 

Still, on Mortis, the Son attempts to lure Anakin to the Dark Side through a nightmare. When Anakin awakes, the Son attacks and takes Ahsoka prisoner within a cell in the tower of the monastery. When Ahsoka refuses to give up hope in Anakin, the Son bites her and infects her with the Dark Side of the Force.

Anakin sets out to rescue Ahsoka but arrives too late — finding her corrupted by the Son. Obi-Wan and Anakin face off against the Padawan, who is eventually killed by the Son when she proves to no longer be useful to him. Now in possession of the Mortis Dagger, the Son attempts to kill the Father, but the Daughter is stabbed instead, which upsets the balance of the Force. 

Anakin begs the Father to save Ahsoka, and the Daughter sacrifices the last of her life to revive her. As the Jedi retreat, the Father warns them that the imbalance in the Force will lead to the Sith gaining control of the galaxy.

“Crisis on Naboo” (Season 4, Episode 18)

“Trust is the greatest of gifts, but it must be earned.” 

Obi-Wan goes undercover to thwart Count Dooku’s plan to kidnap Chancellor Palpatine when he visits Naboo for the Festival of Lights. Palpatine does not seem concerned with the threat against him and proceeds with his plans. Anakin assigns Ahsoka to watch over Padmé and the Queen of Naboo, while he and Windu protect Palpatine.

Obi-Wan manages to obtain vital information about the plot and relays it to Windu — but Dooku is listening. It is revealed to the audience that the entire scenario was set up by Palpatine to turn Anakin against the Jedi Council, fueling his anger and frustrations.

The episode is an excellent example of how Palpatine is a master puppeteer in his manipulation of Anakin. This plot point is even more relevant to Palpatine’s role in The Rise of Skywalker. 

“Brothers” (Season 4, Episode 21)

“A fallen enemy may rise again, but the reconciled one is truly vanquished.” 

Savage Opress locates a clue in the search for his lost brother Darth Maul, leading him to Lotho Minor. Using an amulet gifted to him by Mother Talzin, Opress scours the planet looking for Maul. In the tunnels beneath the planet’s junk lands, Opress is stalked by a half spider-like cyborg who turns out to be Darth Maul.

Having survived his death at the hands of Obi-Wan Kenobi in The Phantom Menace, Maul vows vengeance against the Jedi, who left him in his half-mad state. When a disturbance in the Force is felt, Yoda reveals to Obi-Wan that his foe has returned from the dead. 

“The Gathering” (Season 5, Episode 6)

“He who faces himself, finds himself.” 

Ahsoka escorts a new class of younglings to The Gathering on Ilum, which is a rite of passage for younglings to find their own kyber crystal. They are given a short period to retrieve their crystal or be trapped behind the frozen doors within the Crystal Caves.

Each youngling is faced with their insecurities, whether its self-doubt or overconfidence. The true test, Yoda later reveals, was not to get out of the caves before the doors froze, but to face their fears and find trust, courage, and compassion within their hearts and minds.

This episode provided audiences with a rare look into the early training of Jedis and introduced them to the rambunctious group of younglings. 

“To Catch a Jedi” (Season 5, Episode 19)

“Never become desperate enough to trust the untrustworthy.” 

After an attack on the Jedi Temple, Ahsoka finds herself on the run after she is accused of murder. Anakin and Plo Koon are the only members of the Jedi Council who are skeptical of her guilt, and Yoda sends them to track her down. Asajj Ventress manages to capture

Ahsoka, but she convinces the new bounty hunter to help prove her innocence in return for Ahsoka requesting a pardon for Ventress. With help from her friend Barriss, Ahsoka and Ventress locate a warehouse where the nano-droids behind the attack were obtained.

Before Ahsoka has a chance to investigate thoroughly, she is captured by Anakin and Plo Koon and returned to the Jedi Temple. 

“The Wrong Jedi” (Season 5, Episode 20)

“Never give up hope, no matter how dark things seem.” 

As Ahsoka is set to be put on trial, Anakin works to prove her innocence. Following Ahsoka’s lead, he sets out to track down Asajj Ventress. After a brief fight, Ventress reveals what she knows about Ahsoka’s situation.

While she had intended to turn Ahsoka in for the bounty on her head, she chose not to because she saw herself in the Padawan. She accuses Anakin of abandoning Ahsoka, just as Ventress’ Master abandoned her. She ultimately explains to Anakin what happened at the nano-droid warehouse and that Barriss had been helping them.

Anakin confronts Barriss and discovers that she was behind the attack on the Jedi Temple. Just as Chancellor Palpatine is set to deliver the conviction against Ahsoka, Anakin arrives with the real criminal, and the charges dropped against Ahsoka. This situation leads to Ahsoka’s devastating decision to abandon the Jedi Order. 

“The Unknown” (Season 6, Season 1)

“The truth about yourself is always the hardest to accept.” 

During a mission, clone trooper Tup falls into a strange trance-like state and murders Jedi Master Tiplar while stating that “Good soldiers follow orders.” When they are unable to identify what happened to Tup, Anakin suggests sending him back to Kamino for a full medical check.

Count Dooku is alarmed to discover that a clone has killed a Jedi and contacts Darth Sidious, concerned that their plan is starting prematurely. Dooku sends droids to destroy the transport carrying Tup, leading Anakin and the clones to believe Tup’s malfunction is a Separatist plot. 

There are a lot of really great poignant moments throughout this episode between the clones, particularly when Fives promises to share a drink with Tup when he returns from Kamino. It drives home that the clones are brothers and friends, not just comrades at war. 

Watch Star Wars: The Clone Wars

The final season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars is airing weekly on Disney+. The series has so much to offer audiences and with only thirty-minute episodes — it’s the perfect show to binge.

The post The 15 Best Star Wars: The Clone Wars Episodes of All Time appeared first on Your Money Geek.

from Your Money Geek https://ift.tt/2JbgkLk via IFTTT

[psychotherapyconsultants]

Broadening Your Mind Through Friendship

I have a friend from high school. It’s the classic sentence that starts every character evaluation, diagnosis, and competition. Maybe it’s because high school is frozen in a space outside normal time where friends became more than the person who sat next to you in social studies. Close friendships have an undeniable power that can affect people long after childhood. Especially for women.

A UCLA study reports that female friendships are unique in the sense that they help biologically reduce stress. A ten year Australian study found that friendships can improve brain functioning as we age. Study after study shows that friendship is not only good for our social lives, but also for our physical and mental well-being. The relationships we build with those around us help shape our entire lives.

I met my oldest friend in a hallway while avoiding the cafeteria. She was playing a guitar and sitting on the windowsill. Although I had no idea who she was at the time, I was instantly drawn to her in the way that teenage girls are drawn to the covers of Cosmopolitan magazine. She was the kind of person that could sing without being self conscious in a busy upstairs hallway of a public high school. Unlike me, she was not trying to be invisible. She was vibrant.

The characteristics that are intrinsically hers, are the ones I like best. Perhaps because they aren’t mine and don’t run in my family, I am more fascinated by her ability to survive off an entirely unique set of skills. She is flexible. If plans change, that’s fine. If I absolutely have to listen to disco in her car, she doesn’t think twice. She isn’t afraid to wear the kinds of clothes I privately watch on eBay year after year without buying. She can dye her hair even when there’s no real occasion.

This isn’t to say friends don’t have similarities. While people gravitate toward what is different, they ultimately crave comfort. My friend and I both analyze ourselves, each other, and everyone else for hours without getting bored. We both like walking with no particular direction. We both share the same tragically-beautiful taste for Joy Division. Yet, like most friendships, there are parts of her that have somehow melted into my personality.

Standing in a grocery store, I panicked when the pierogi section had been replaced with frozen yogurt and snack food. I could feel myself getting antsy. This is not a big deal, I told myself, scanning the sections of neon-colored dessert. My rigidity has caused one anonymous friend to sign me up for the AARP. I now have daily reminders in the form of hearing device catalogues and coupons for reading glasses. It’s not that I’m afraid of change, I tell my friends. I just like things the way they are.

I thought about slamming the frozen freezer door and waltzing out of the supermarket in a huff, when I remembered my friend and I, standing in a 4 hour line at an airport. She explained to me the problem with J.Crew and together we made up stories about the other travelers. When they told us we’d have to board another plane several hours later, she pulled out a book. We’d just have to take another route, she explained when I continued to ask what happened.

After intense scrutiny of all artificial flavors frozen, I figured the other packaged food couldn’t be horrible. I settled on a foreign container of spinach appetizers and continued on. I could safely say I was not afraid of change. An inconvenience, yes, but not terrifying.

It’s a microscopic example of contagious virtues, but there are dozens of them. They may seem too simple to pay attention to or too small to notice, but as with every deconstruction of patterns, flexibility and open-mindedness becomes second nature.

Friendships broaden horizons in a way that family cannot. While generations of families pass down ethics, morals, character, and biology to their offspring, friends pass down the shine of something new and different. Like democrats or republicans who rely on Facebook for news, people can often find themselves trapped in an echo chamber of insular thinking. While it may be rewarding to find a sense of predictability, the ability to learn new ways of thinking becomes more difficult.

Repetitive thinking, depression, and poor physical or mental health can plague someone at any point in life. While not everyone is able to still have the friend that glitters from high school, relationships outside family are important at any age.

from World of Psychology https://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2017/09/24/broadening-your-mind-through-friendship/

[kuwaiti-kid]

The 15 Best Star Wars: The Clone Wars Episodes of All Time

With the final season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars airing on Disney+, it seems like the perfect time to take a look back at the past episodes, story arcs, and characters that led to its success.

Set in the three years between Star Wars: Attack of the Clones and Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith George Lucas’ animated creation had a theatrical debut in 2008 before airing on Cartoon Network for six years.

In 2013, the series moved to Netflix for what was believed to be its sixth and final season following its cancellation and a set of unfinished episodes known as “Clone Wars: Legacy” were released by Dave Filioni, the series’ supervising director in an attempt to wrap up unfinished arcs.

At San Diego Comic-Con in 2018, Lucasfilm surprised fans with the announcement that the series would return for a seventh and final season, wrapping up the loose ends on its new home on Disney’s streaming service. 

While every episode of Clone Wars is arguably the best episode of Clone Wars, this list breaks down the 15 episodes that made the series a fan favorite. 

The 15 Best Clone Wars Episode of all Time

“Rookies” (Season 1, Episode 5)

“The best confidence builder is experience.” 

This list would not be complete without the inclusion of at least one episode from the first season. Faced with the threat of a droid commando invasion, a unit of five rookie clones must work together to prevent disaster. The episode introduces audiences to Fives and Echoes, clone troopers that eventually become an integral part of the story.

Up until this point in time, Star Wars hadn’t addressed the human element behind the clone trooper helmets, and the episode goes to great lengths to show the effects of war on the clones, and it explores their individual personalities.

Tragically, only Fives and Echoes survive, and the loss of their fellow troopers weighs heavily on them when they’re inducted into the 501st Legion at the close of the episode. 

“Senate Spy” (Season 2, Episode 4)

“A true heart should never be doubted.” 

This is an excellent episode for fans of Anakin and Padmé’s relationship, especially those who enjoy how complicated their relationship is. Their time alone is interrupted by the Jedi Council requesting that Padmé spy on a fellow senator, Rush Clovis.

She initially refuses their request, but ultimately chooses to follow through with the plan out of anger when Anakin acts jealous about her past relationship with Clovis. During her meeting with Clovis on Cato Nemoidia, Padmé is poisoned by Trade Federation, Senator Lott Dod.

Despite being poisoned, Padmé is able to steal a holodisk with plans for a droid factory and get them to Anakin. Clovis forces Dod to hand over the antidote, and Anakin and Padmé leave. This mission sets up a great arc throughout the season with the tension between Clovis, Anakin, and Padmé. 

“Weapons Factory” (Season 2, Episode 6)

“A gift is more precious than trust.” 

Ahsoka Tano is arguably one of the best additions to the Star Wars universe, and this episode showcases her perseverance when faced with a challenge. Anakin and Jedi Master Unduli fend off droids, while their Padawans Ahsoka and Barriss attack the droid factory.

When the factory explodes, Ahsoka and Bariss are trapped under the debris, and Unduli believes them to be dead, but Anakin doesn’t give up hope. 

“The Mandalore Plot” (Seasons 2, Episode 12)

“If you ignore the past, you jeopardize the future.”

The first episode in a three-part storyline surrounding Duchess Satine, leader of the New Mandalorians. Her pacifistic beliefs in the face of the war between the Grand Republic and the Separatists, have led to her being the target of the rogue Mandalorian group, the Death Watch.

Obi-Wan Kenobi travels to Mandalore to discover the truth behind the rumors, working alongside Satine to unravel the plot. It is revealed that Governor Vizsla, an associate of Count Dooku, is the leader of the Death Watch and behind the plot to overthrow Satine’s pacifist regime.

Brandishing a Darksaber, Vizsla is ultimately defeated by Obi-Wan, who escapes with Satine at the close of the episode. 

“Voyage of Temptation” (Season 2, Episode 13) 

“Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.” 

Aboard Satine’s ship, the Coronet, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Anakin Skywalker brief the clone troopers on the situation and the importance of protecting the Duchess. As Anakin watches interactions between Obi-Wan and Satine, he discerns that they were once close.

Later on in the episode, Satine confesses that she loves Obi-Wan, and he admits that he would’ve left the Jedi Order for her. This revelation is one of the most exciting parts of the arc, especially in juxtaposition to Anakin and Padmé’s secret relationship. 

The plot continues as Senator Tal Merrik takes Satine hostage, rigging the engines of the Coronet to explode if Obi-Wan tries to rescue her. Amid a moral quandary — if Satine kills Merrik, she is not a pacifist, and if Obi-Wan kills Merrik, he loses Satine’s respect — Anakin attacks the senator from behind and kills him, as Darth Vader’s theme plays in the background, an ominous ode to the future. 

“Clone Cadets” (Season 3, Episode 1) 

“Brothers in arms are brothers for life.”

This is another excellent episode exploring the lives of the clone troopers and is a prequel to the episode “Rookies.” It also introduces 99, a malformed clone that leads to the creation of Clone Force 99 (or the Bad Batch), who play a crucial part in the final season of Clone Wars.

The story follows the Domino Squad as they prepare for graduation from their training on Kamino, but the team is dysfunctional, and they fail their tests. CT-782 (later known as Hevy) attempts to go AWOL but is stopped by 99, who reinforces the importance of brotherhood among the Clones.

It’s this interaction that ultimately leads to Hevy sacrificing himself in “Rookies” to save his team. 

 “Nightsisters” (Season 3, Episode 12)

“The swiftest path to destruction is through vengeance.” 

Darth Sidious plots with Count Dooku to destroy Asajj Ventress, fearing that she has grown too powerful. Ventress is enraged when Dooku refuses to offer assistance when she faces off against Obi-Wan and Anakin.

Left alone with a malfunctioning ship, she is taken by a scavenging crew who she ultimately kills when she commandeers their vessel to return home to the Nightsisters. The episode delves into Ventress’ backstory — how her mother sold her to slavers, and she was rescued by a Jedi Knight, how his death led to her path to the Dark Side when Count Dooku had taken her in. 

“Overlords” (Season 3, Episode 15)

“Balance is found in the one who faces his guilt.”

In the first of a three-part arc, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka are sent to investigate a mysterious Jedi distress signal. During their journey, the power and communications are cut off on their shuttle, and they awake on an unfamiliar planet where the Force seems to radiate. Only Anakin can hear the disembodied voice of the Daughter who desires to take him to her Father.

The episode focuses on Anakin’s path to the Dark Side and his fate as the “Chosen One.” Strange visions visit the three Jedi — Anakin’s mother Shimi appears, revealing his guilt over her death and his relationship with Padmé; Obi-Wan is visited by the Force Ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn who warns him that the planet will corrupt Anakin; Ahsoka is visited by a vision of her future self who warns that she should cut herself off from Anakin’s dark path.

The Father forces Anakin to face a test to decide who will live, as the Son and Daughter have taken Ahsoka and Obi-Wan. Ultimately, Anakin uses the Force to free both of his friends. The “Imperial March” plays as Anakin attempts to leave the planet with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, yet again alluding to his future path to the Dark Side. 

“Altar of Mortis” (Season 3, Episode 16)

“He who surrenders hope, surrenders life.” 

Still, on Mortis, the Son attempts to lure Anakin to the Dark Side through a nightmare. When Anakin awakes, the Son attacks and takes Ahsoka prisoner within a cell in the tower of the monastery. When Ahsoka refuses to give up hope in Anakin, the Son bites her and infects her with the Dark Side of the Force.

Anakin sets out to rescue Ahsoka but arrives too late — finding her corrupted by the Son. Obi-Wan and Anakin face off against the Padawan, who is eventually killed by the Son when she proves to no longer be useful to him. Now in possession of the Mortis Dagger, the Son attempts to kill the Father, but the Daughter is stabbed instead, which upsets the balance of the Force. 

Anakin begs the Father to save Ahsoka, and the Daughter sacrifices the last of her life to revive her. As the Jedi retreat, the Father warns them that the imbalance in the Force will lead to the Sith gaining control of the galaxy.

“Crisis on Naboo” (Season 4, Episode 18)

“Trust is the greatest of gifts, but it must be earned.” 

Obi-Wan goes undercover to thwart Count Dooku’s plan to kidnap Chancellor Palpatine when he visits Naboo for the Festival of Lights. Palpatine does not seem concerned with the threat against him and proceeds with his plans. Anakin assigns Ahsoka to watch over Padmé and the Queen of Naboo, while he and Windu protect Palpatine.

Obi-Wan manages to obtain vital information about the plot and relays it to Windu — but Dooku is listening. It is revealed to the audience that the entire scenario was set up by Palpatine to turn Anakin against the Jedi Council, fueling his anger and frustrations.

The episode is an excellent example of how Palpatine is a master puppeteer in his manipulation of Anakin. This plot point is even more relevant to Palpatine’s role in The Rise of Skywalker. 

“Brothers” (Season 4, Episode 21)

“A fallen enemy may rise again, but the reconciled one is truly vanquished.” 

Savage Opress locates a clue in the search for his lost brother Darth Maul, leading him to Lotho Minor. Using an amulet gifted to him by Mother Talzin, Opress scours the planet looking for Maul. In the tunnels beneath the planet’s junk lands, Opress is stalked by a half spider-like cyborg who turns out to be Darth Maul.

Having survived his death at the hands of Obi-Wan Kenobi in The Phantom Menace, Maul vows vengeance against the Jedi, who left him in his half-mad state. When a disturbance in the Force is felt, Yoda reveals to Obi-Wan that his foe has returned from the dead. 

“The Gathering” (Season 5, Episode 6)

“He who faces himself, finds himself.” 

Ahsoka escorts a new class of younglings to The Gathering on Ilum, which is a rite of passage for younglings to find their own kyber crystal. They are given a short period to retrieve their crystal or be trapped behind the frozen doors within the Crystal Caves.

Each youngling is faced with their insecurities, whether its self-doubt or overconfidence. The true test, Yoda later reveals, was not to get out of the caves before the doors froze, but to face their fears and find trust, courage, and compassion within their hearts and minds.

This episode provided audiences with a rare look into the early training of Jedis and introduced them to the rambunctious group of younglings. 

“To Catch a Jedi” (Season 5, Episode 19)

“Never become desperate enough to trust the untrustworthy.” 

After an attack on the Jedi Temple, Ahsoka finds herself on the run after she is accused of murder. Anakin and Plo Koon are the only members of the Jedi Council who are skeptical of her guilt, and Yoda sends them to track her down. Asajj Ventress manages to capture

Ahsoka, but she convinces the new bounty hunter to help prove her innocence in return for Ahsoka requesting a pardon for Ventress. With help from her friend Barriss, Ahsoka and Ventress locate a warehouse where the nano-droids behind the attack were obtained.

Before Ahsoka has a chance to investigate thoroughly, she is captured by Anakin and Plo Koon and returned to the Jedi Temple. 

“The Wrong Jedi” (Season 5, Episode 20)

“Never give up hope, no matter how dark things seem.” 

As Ahsoka is set to be put on trial, Anakin works to prove her innocence. Following Ahsoka’s lead, he sets out to track down Asajj Ventress. After a brief fight, Ventress reveals what she knows about Ahsoka’s situation.

While she had intended to turn Ahsoka in for the bounty on her head, she chose not to because she saw herself in the Padawan. She accuses Anakin of abandoning Ahsoka, just as Ventress’ Master abandoned her. She ultimately explains to Anakin what happened at the nano-droid warehouse and that Barriss had been helping them.

Anakin confronts Barriss and discovers that she was behind the attack on the Jedi Temple. Just as Chancellor Palpatine is set to deliver the conviction against Ahsoka, Anakin arrives with the real criminal, and the charges dropped against Ahsoka. This situation leads to Ahsoka’s devastating decision to abandon the Jedi Order. 

“The Unknown” (Season 6, Season 1)

“The truth about yourself is always the hardest to accept.” 

During a mission, clone trooper Tup falls into a strange trance-like state and murders Jedi Master Tiplar while stating that “Good soldiers follow orders.” When they are unable to identify what happened to Tup, Anakin suggests sending him back to Kamino for a full medical check.

Count Dooku is alarmed to discover that a clone has killed a Jedi and contacts Darth Sidious, concerned that their plan is starting prematurely. Dooku sends droids to destroy the transport carrying Tup, leading Anakin and the clones to believe Tup’s malfunction is a Separatist plot. 

There are a lot of really great poignant moments throughout this episode between the clones, particularly when Fives promises to share a drink with Tup when he returns from Kamino. It drives home that the clones are brothers and friends, not just comrades at war. 

Watch Star Wars: The Clone Wars

The final season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars is airing weekly on Disney+. The series has so much to offer audiences and with only thirty-minute episodes — it’s the perfect show to binge.

The post The 15 Best Star Wars: The Clone Wars Episodes of All Time appeared first on Your Money Geek.

from Your Money Geek https://ift.tt/2JbgkLk via IFTTT