#just as the reviews characterized this as the tragedy of the hubris
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
This made my day. At first I looked at TMWWBK at 8.9 IMDB rating and I was like 😞 but then I saw this, see blue box, and it matches "Weekend at Bobby's" in the same category 🙌
Weekend at Bobby's is widely accepted among fandom as one of the best episodes so the fact that it matches WaB is a compliment
It even tops "Abandon All Hope" in the same demographic by .1 of a rating. Which is also arguably one of the most impactful episodes in the show
Cool statistics, didn't know IMDB has them.
TMWWBK is so much more important to me than those two other episodes, there isn't even any comparison. (I barely even watched weekend at Bobby's. Cas wasn't in it. I believe my husband was watching it and saying it was good but I was not paying attention).
I do wonder what was in people's heads when they rated the episode? Personally I would actually have a hard time rating it. Objectively, it was amazing. It absolutely deserved a 10. But I can't be objective when it comes to Cas, can I? I can't separate the merits of a well produced, well written, beautifully shot and acted piece of television from how it made me feel, which is the absolute hell of my rage and bitterness and sadness on behalf of Cas. One can say my insanity was the evidence of its greatness, but somehow even that doesn't convince me.
Still, no doubt it's one of the most special episode to me (maybe even THE most special) because it's the only Cas-centric one. So I'll celebrate with you.
#But in my hopelessly bitter heart I think these people who rated the episode high#believed the narrative of the show#and blamed Cas#just as the reviews characterized this as the tragedy of the hubris#comparing him to McBeth#even as they praise the episode
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Splash Mountain, Br’er Rabbit, and the Tragedy of Being Represented By Other People.
So, this is probably going to be the realest post I’ll make for a while - or at least until The Boondocks arrives, but it seemed apropos. Immediately after this I’ve got rants about sci fi and Star Wars and other unrelated things coming up, but for now we have my earnest opinions on a decision I feel should have been better thought out than it was. This is going to read more like an article or an essay than a review, but I think it needs to be said.
It hasn’t come up too often on this blog, but I am African American. It’s my life and my perspective. And as an African American, a lover of animation and - though this definitely doesn’t come up on the blog - a passionate folklorist in what you could call an academic sense (in that I’m a writer and a student, and folklore is the subject of most of my research), people I know in real life have asked me more than once what my opinion on the removal of Splash Mountain in favor of Princess and the Frog, how I must be glad it’s finally being removed, what my take on the history there was, and…
Well…
To really give that opinion, I’ve got to start at the beginning. Not Song of the South - that, if anything, is the very middle. We have to start with Br’er Rabbit and who that character was. Sit back students, info dump incoming.
Br’er Rabbit is an folklore character of African American origin with - like many folkloric figures - a difficult to place date of origin, but he was known to have existed at least since the early 19th Century, He has obvious similarities to the far older figure of Anansi - with several Br’er Rabbit tales even taking elements of Anansi stories verbatim - though with a the notable difference that unlike Anansi, Br’er Rabbit was more often a heroic figure: an underdog and seemingly downtrodden figure who used his wits and his enemies’ hubris rather than physical force to win the day. The meaning of that kind of figure to an enslaved people is obvious, especially when you compare Br’er Rabbit to another, contemporary trickster figure in African American history by the name of John. Br’er Rabbit’s stories could even arguably be seen as a more child-friendly version of the John tales, in which a human trickster pulls the same kind of momentum turning ploys on villains - but those villains tended to be explicitly slave masters or overseers, and John’s payback often came with explicitly deadly results. The existence of John as escapism for the enslaved or just-post-enslaved (IE Reconstruction) populations is clear: a person who with no power who could fight back with nothing but their mind, preying on the fact that their enemies see them as incapable and helpless, and the connection of Br’er Rabbit to that message is difficult to deny. If anything, Br’er Rabbit comes off as a somewhat more child-friendly version of the concept.
But the most important thing to glean from this is who and what Br’er Rabbit is: a product of the African American community and its history, as a means of those people to express themselves and their values in the face of oppression.
Now we fast forward to 1881, and along comes Joel Chandler Harris: a white Georgian. Harris was a folklorist himself, and travelled the country collecting stories - most famously Br’er Rabbit stories. His stated reason was to bridge African American and white communities by sharing stories, but he was tainted by the perspectives of his world and his place in it, infamously creating a framing narrative for those stories in which the character telling them exuded the imagery of subservience and simplicity that was typical of perceptions of African Americans from the post-Civil War Southern environment in which he collected them: Uncle Remus, in other words. Harris is hardly the only white curator who adapted stories of black or brown peoples in a way that played up the people the stories came from as something of a theme park piece, as if noble in unintelligence and simplicity, but he’s one of the most famous ones to do so - and that’s because of the adaptation. To note, when people criticize cultural appropriation, this is the kind of thing that really triggers the outrage. Not any situation in which a white person is inspired by someone who isn’t white and creates something accordingly, but situations where someone else’s creation is taken and used for the fame and profit of others, to the detriment of the people who made it. It’s these situations like the one Joel Chandler Harris created centuries ago, specifically, that people are trying to draw attention to - even if sometimes social media gets a bit trigger happy sometimes, that’s the real, underlying problem. With that in mind, let’s put that aside and move forward.
Fast forward again to 1946. Walt Disney Productions, then less the company of grander, wider scale stories of epic quests and emotional upheaval that make us all cry and more a company more known for folktale adaptations in general, were looking for a but of American folklore to headline a live action, animation mix - a medium that allowed a bit more financial benefit, as straightforward animation was not always particularly profitable those dates. This wouldn’t be the last time they produced an adaptation of an American folktale or short story - their version of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow a few years later being actually one of the more faithful adaptations of that short story put to film. Disney, who evidently read Chandler Harris’ stories, put together a project to see if they could adapted. Which they did. Pretty much verbatim. This is actually worth pointing out: the actual Br’er Rabbit stories in the films are very accurately adapted, and the actors involved in the story (including James Baskett, how also played Uncle Remus) did a fine job characterizing them. The issue is that Disney also adapted Chandler Harris’ stereotypical and offensive framing device pretty much verbatim, bringing Uncle Remus. And therein lies the problem.
To put the issue with Song of the South in perspective, the movie - with the framing device - can be categorized as something called Reconstruction Revisionism - which is basically a genre of post-Civil War media meant to present the pre-war South was perfect and idyllic, and that people are racially more natural in that environment’s dynamic and never should have left. One of the most infamous movies in history, Birth of a Nation, is the crowning example of this genre. Obviously, Song of the South is nowhere near as awful and inflammatory a movie as that, but there’s a degree to which it was seen as the straw the broke the camel’s back for black depictions in media, only a couple of years after Disney’s Dumbo also did the same. The end result, an African American creation was used in a film that ultimately demeaned the African American community, a decision that Disney has been ashamed of ever since.
Fast forward to now. Disney is removing Splash Mountain, the sole remnant of Song of the South that focuses exclusively on Br’er Rabbit - a choice we’ve had reason to suspect was coming for about a year now, but which was unveiled conspicuously in the middle of protests and campaigning for better treatment of people of African descent worldwide. The reveal was a rousing success, with people applauding the decision to finally wipe away the rest of that movie - though remember that for later, that the response relies on the perception of Br’er Rabbit as something that starts with Song of the South - and replace it with something else. Surely, as a black person I should be happy that they’re finally getting rid of that racist character for good and replacing him with something more positive? And again, well…
To put short, Br’er Rabbit has finished his journey from African cultural symbol to discarded pariah, all because others used the character in racist ways that they themselves now regret. And for that… let’s be clear, I’m not angry so much as saddened. I’m not railing against the company for making the choice, since I can see how from their point of view it was the wisest and most progressive thing to do. Song of the South is a badly old fashioned movie that they’re right to want to move on from, and it’s their right to downplay characters within their purview if those characters reflect badly on the company. I’m just outlining the tragic waste of it all.
For now, compare Princess and the Frog - the thing they’re replacing it with. I do love the movie, or at least any problems I have with it have little to do with representation, and I definitely don’t have anything against Musker and Clements and their beautiful visions and creations, but it’s difficult to deny that its an adaptation of a European story, adapted by a collection of mostly white creators (with Rob Edwards comprising but one third of the screenwriting team, but not of story conception), that’s ultimately just dolled up with African Americans characters and a very Hollywood-esque depiction of a African diaspora religion (Voodoo, which unfortunately has a long history of such portrayals). If we’re talking about representation specifically - which this move had definitely been presented as a champion for - it’s not the perfect example, more of a story with a surface covering of the black experience than one with an especially strong connection. That wouldn’t necessarily be a problem (Tiana and her story do well depict strong black characterizations, and approach an interesting (if light_ implication about racism and hardship during the 1920s) if Disney had yet created any other franchise that was another actual adaptation of an African or African American tale or story (with involvement from such actual people), but Song of the South is actually it. They legitimately have nothing else to call on.
This is something I feel we should do more to remedy. I am a writer/prospective screenwriter myself, and trying to put more stories out there is one of my primary focuses and goals should I ever truly enter the industry, but at the moment we just don’t have very many options.
This is hardly the only time that people of color have had little control over depictions of their own culture - literary and film history is full of such situations in both minor and terribly major ways - but it’s something that stings especially hard due to being such a current example, and because of sheer irony of the end result. Now we have a situation where African Americans are being told that something their people created to represent themselves is negative and wrong, because years ago other people appropriated that creation and used it to paint a negative picture of the people who actually held claim over it, and now the enterprise that those people created wants to save face: another example of culture being treated like a possession of the ones who are poised to make money of off it. And what’s worse, while the culture is used and abused like trash, the people are now presented with this removal like it was a prize - like they’re finally being given something - when little has really changed.
Ultimately, the Splash Mountain news - though it had been coming for a while - made me rather upset for that reason. As a studier of folklore, I suppose I knew better than most where these things came from, and so the buzz around the move being a belief that Br’er Rabbit was an intrinsically racist character just highlighted the tragedy of how African Americans and their culture tended to be tossed about by American media. So no matter what, I can’t feel particularly happy about it.
Let me iterate, in the film industry, being represented by people who aren’t of your culture group is basically inevitable. That’s essentially how the industry works. I’m not saying we should rail against anyone who would try to represent cultures that aren’t their own. The people who produce and create are few, and eventually the truth is that you have to be represented by other people - at least for the moment. We shouldn’t be railing against representation by others in general, as that wouldn’t be cognizant of the situation and thus self destructive. What I’m saying is that we - both we trying to be represented, and those doing the representing - should be aware of the problem there: that when others choose to represent you in media, you essentially have to trust them to have a real interest in you and your best interests when doing so, and when they don’t that depiction is there forever. So it behooves us to try to be the ones who are representing ourselves as much as possible, and in situations where we can’t, to remind those who want to represent us that they have a responsibility to do so effectively.
This is Animated Minds for Animated Times, and really this blog is ultimately about emphasizing what makes animated media work, what makes it fun, and what makes it worthwhile no matter how old you are. And so in several years of sporadic and infrequent reviews, reactions and fandom posts it’s been rare for me to get this real about a topic, but this is something that is a serious issue feel was overlooked. Representation is complicated. And more often than not solutions that are handed to us are more band-aids that look like cures than necessarily being actually helpful, and that’s what happens when ultimately the decisions about how you’re represented lie in the hands of other people. Representation is one of the biggest things we need to work on in coming years, especially with stories and adaptations - which refer to history and culture that are often not widely known or accepted. Ask someone if they think there should be an African princess, and they’ll tell you they didn’t even have kings and queens in Africa - something that’s bluntly wrong, but is widely believed simply because those elements of culture are never represented.
And that’s the sum of my thoughts on the subject. I hadn’t updated the blog in months because this whole thing was stewing in me, and I couldn’t really go back to cheerful posts about new things until I got it out. I’ve got great thoughts about the Owl House, Amphibia, the new seasons of BH6 and Ducktales that are totally coming up soon. But for now, just a few sobering thoughts from someone who grew up loving cartoons, and desperately wishes people like me had more to look at in that field beyond apologies and promises.
#splash mountain#disney#song of the south#the princess and the frog#brer rabbit#social commentary#black lives matter#representation#walt disney world#joel chandler harris#uncle remus#cultural appropriation#real talk
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
Star Wars: The Last Jedi: Execution Strikes Back
Ok so I’ve been trying to write down my reaction to The Last Jedi for the last two days, but I have a lot of Thoughts and I’m beginning to think it’d be better if I wrote down Many Reactions to The Last Jedi, each focused on a particular aspect of my reaction, and so I’m going to do that.
OK SO: This Post will be my general reaction to the plot, story, etc. There won’t be much internal coherence to this as it’s just me jumping around, writing my general reactions to the aspects of the film that stood out to me enough to comment on without deserving their own post.
The tl;dr: It had problems, but they didn’t detract from it for me and it was really fun and I liked it, but the underlying rhetorical merchandising of “Rebel” and Related Things bugged me along similar lines to Rogue One.
TLJ follows in TFA’s footprints of having a really thin, basically tacked-on plot that’s really nothing more than the most basic background required to make the film’s true strengths -its character interactions, performances, worldbuilding, and structure- comprehensible, and to let them shine. I thought the action fun, focused, and not too busy(though occasionally Stupid); that the relationships between the characters and the larger ideas they were meant to convey were well done, clear, and engaging; and that, while the plot was Incredible Stupid(or maybe just stripped down?) and Barely Relevant, the structure of the story was quite Robust and well-built. The larger themes and rhetoric of the film were clearly conveyed, even if sometimes those themes and that rhetoric was, itself, in conflict, or just flat-out philosophically infuriating(hint: my Rogue One complaint about Disney’s commodification of “Rebellion” is amped up 1000% for TLJ, but I won’t get into that in this post). My one big problem was, as with TFA but even more so, the sheer volume of callbacks and parallels, which I found a bit distracting at points. I get that they WANT the films to feel cyclical and repetitive, but I feel like they just went too far in a few places here, and tried too hard to be “A Star Wars Movie” rather than doing their own thing, which gave it a very franchisey feel. There were moments, however, where they used those references and parallels to do some interesting stuff.
The idea of the bombing run at the beginning, the movie’s first set-piece battle, was, I thought, Very Stupid, but I get what they were going for with it and their execution of that was done well enough that I didn’t necessarily mind it. The basic idea: The FO is chasing the Resistance out of its hiding places and catches Leia’s crew in the midst of them evacuating their base from TFA; Poe and the fighters scramble to buy the evacuation time and stop a new FO siege-ship called a Dreadnought, from destroying the base before the evacuation can be completed. From practically the first lines they start introducing their themes; the opening(or maybe near-opening) shot is at the base, with one of the officers over-seeing it telling another to forget about the ammunition and intelligence and save the People instead. This idea, that it’s The People and Life that matter most and not resources, tools, and abstractions, gets repeated over and over in the film. It’s particularly important for Poe, who the lead evac officer(a woman; this becomes A Thing in his story in this film) mildly contrasts in this sequence. While she is putting the People first, Poe gets caught up in the opportunities for Victory afforded by the Dread’s vulnerability. After having won time for the evacuation Poe is ordered back but refuses, countermanding Leia’s orders to the fighter wings and ordering them to begin their bombing runs. They follow him over Leia(again: will become A Thing), and the sequence continues to needless tragedy.
So the Stupid: The bombers are big, unwieldy(I’m tempted to call them antimanuveurable), incredibly vulnerable, and just entirely impractical in their design. Their design is clearly inspired by the B-Wings but whereas those had heavy shielding, torpedo bays, and ion cannons, these are just sitting ducks with belly turrets, which are about as useful as you’d expect in a space-battle. Nothing about these is functional(they have to be over their target for pete’s sake, and they have frigging bomber scopes!), everything about these is meant to evoke WWII bombers, and all but one of them is immediately blown up to set up the death of Rose’s sister on the last bomber, heroically taking out the Dread right before her own ship kicks it. So Stupid But, like I said, it’s clear what they’re trying to do with this -establish that it is an unequal fight, emphasize that the Resistance are People and Individuals not faceless cogs in an institution, evoke WWII imagery to really drive home the anti-fascist nature of the Resistance and the Fascist nature of the First Order and further the film’s arguments, shine a spot-light on Poe’s flaws and their terrible costs even when he’s in his element, and make an engaging action scene while doing it- and they do it so well and so successfully that I didn’t mind the Stupidity of it. Unfortunately the movie then goes on to basically make this ALL about Poe, which undermines the PEOPLE!! message a bit as I’ll get into later, by having the only reaction to their entire bombing wing getting killed and plenty of fighter-pilots being Leia slapping and demoting him for his profligacy with his pilots’ lives and lecturing him about the leadership position she is STILL, after he got their entire bombing wing killed, grooming him for. Ugh. Like I said: Later.
The Last Jedi fits Very Well with This Theory by Diamanda Hagan on Youtube about Star Wars being a Cardassian “Repetitive Epic”. There are references out the Wazoo to the Original Trilogy, it’s an unabashed riff on The Empire Strikes Back(with hints of Return), characters openly reference the events of Return, Rey explicitly places herself in the role of Luke to Ren’s Vader in Return, explicitly conceives of herself and others within an ongoing historical teleology, it structures all of this about Family(while subtly subverting Family and Lineage as a theme in favor of loyalty to ideals/The State via Rey’s status as a orphan sold into slavery), and as such it cyclically fulfills the same function within the larger serial/cyclical narrative as Empire(I won’t get into the prequels that shall not be named).
Hamill plays Luke Wonderfully as a Filthy Hermit-Wizard Island-Hag XD His milking of that Totally Chill and Totally Cognizant Plesiosaulrus and subsequent raw-drinking of said milk was Inspired as Fuck :| :| 125% Malcontented Gremlin. I’ve tried to avoid review and discussion cause Spoilers, but I’ve seen some suggestion that people don’t like his characterization here and I disagree vehemently. Yes, he’s not the Luke of the OT, but the Luke of the OT didn’t blame himself and his “weakness” for the moral corruption and crimes of his nephew, nor for the deaths of half a dozen young students who trusted him. OT Luke hadn’t spent decades beating himself up for the “arrogance” and “pride” of his “Legend”, and the “weakness” that allowed this to led him to overestimate his abilities as a teacher and underestimate one particular student(I don’t think it did, but it’s clear that’s what he’s been telling himself). OT Luke isn’t punishing himself and projecting his own self-hatred and self-punishment onto “The Jedi”; This Luke is. Seeing his failure of Ben Solo as the result of Hubris, personal Weakness, and a loss of faith in Redemption at a critical moment, he projects that onto the Jedi Order who become, for him, Hubristic, Weak, and Hypocritical. He sees himself as irredeemable and deserving of death; so too he sees the Jedi. He’s been living with this negativity for years. He’s “cut himself off from the Force” -literally cut himself off from the universe itself and the Flow of all Being- out of disgust in himself(and via projection Jedi, the Force, etc) and as punishment. This is OT Luke after years of believing himself a Legend, after -as he sees it- his mortal flaws killing that Legend through a failure complete and deeply personal, and after even more years of swallowing the poison that resulted from that. I found it entirely believable, and wonderfully brought to life by Hamill.
I like Rey’s story much better than the other two, Finn&Rose’s story second most, and Poe’s story the least.
In fact I found Poe’s story to be kind of infuriating.
Here’s Poe’s narrative in this film: He’s a Heroic and Dashing Fighter-Pilot and he needs to Learn to Be the Leader He was Born to Be, no matter how many far more sensible and courageous women will have to repeatedly die, sacrifices to or for his grandstanding, for him to do so(it takes at least two, possibly three, pseudo-four, women given appreciable face-time on screen. There’s an unnamed A-wing pilot that may have died or may have made it through the movie I couldn’t really tell, and then there’s Leia’s near-death). He sees the Bomber attack as heroic and those who died as Heroic Martyrs to the cause, but Leia reminds him: they’re still dead. Those were people who didn’t have to go on that mission, who didn’t have to die, and that leadership means remembering what, exactly, you’re fighting for(Hint: it’s People! What Your Fighting For is PEEEOOOPLEEEEEE!!!!!!!! Of Course I did this :|). He sees Holdo’s cautious husbanding of their people and resources as betrayal, and so he instigates a mutiny in service of a hairbrained longshot plan that doesn’t work, putting everyone’s lives at risk in the process; AND his love for such Romantic longshots compromises that very mission, which in turn compromises Holdo’s plan, which puts Holdo in the position of having to choose between kamikaze and letting the Resistance be destroyed. Her death, I felt I was being asked to believe, showed him a True Leader’s approach to sacrifice; all I saw was an awesome figure of feminine leadership and strength, a perfect replacement for if not Leia(since Holdo wasn’t one of the Big Three) at least Akbar or Mon Mothma, well-crafted by writing and performance only to be dashed to bits at the last moment in service of Poe’s character development. And in a way that undermined the film’s larger message about leadership, risk, and sacrifice, no less. So I am Upset about this |:(
And during all this Leia’s fleet is in a slow-motion chase with the First Order through the actual middle of nowhere(so there’s no real sense of motion, either, aside from the occasional abandoned ship drifting back to be shot apart) while the Resistance manages to stay just barely one step ahead of them on low fuel reserves. IDK if TLJ introduces this(I kinda feel like it does) but this chase is necessitated by the conceit that hyperspace travel can’t normally be tracked but the FO has somehow figured out how to do it. Realizing they’ve done this is what sends Finn and Rose to Canto Bight in the first place(looking for a coder to help them break into the FO ship to disable their tracking), and Poe’s Doofery plays out with that backdrop.
I’ve seen some folks complain about Canto Bight but I thought it was fine and pivotal to the political message of the film, and consequently to Rose’s role and Finn’s arc. Its decadence is presented as the other side of the First Order’s coin, and the poverty it inflicts on the jockeys, the slavery it inflicts on the Fathiers, the ultimate goal of the FO, the source of CB’s decadence, and the evil the Resistance is fighting to end. Finn’s political and moral awakening is even mirrored in his opinion of the place: when Rose and he arrive he loves it, but as his awareness of the exploitation and corruption it’s built on grows, so too does his conviction in the correctness of making sacrifices for the Resistance and its cause. It’d have been nice if they could have had this be a more natural process and rest less on Rose dropping exposition on him, but obvsl time is a factor and Rose needed to be pivotal to this process to fulfill her role in the film and his story. Finn’s arc is realizing it’s not just about him and Rey and their safety, and you can’t do that without another, new person for him to care about and be cared for by, and having her be, essentially, his moral mentor(Rose pretty nearly parallels Ben Kenobi’s role in Star Wars/New Hope for him here) made that even stronger and more satisfying for me. I also liked that they included del Toro’s character as her foil; having Finn’s choice be an actual choice, embodied by two different people relating to him for two different reasons, made that choice much stronger, even if you never really got a sense that Finn was tempted by DJ.
Rose was Delightful overall, and I love how they defied expectations by setting her up as a “Tech” only to have her basically be the emotional and moral heart of Finn’s story, and arguably the film in general. I don’t really have a lot to say here because it’s just very simple: she reminds Finn of the things he cares about, of WHY he runs risks, that other people are just as invested in their struggles as he is and that ultimately it is the People who matter. The Fight is for the People; Victory is the Freedom, Survival, and Rule of the People; his desire for peace and dignity is no different than anyone else’s and the Resistance is fighting for that against the Fascism, Aristocratic Hierarchy, and social corruption which the First Order represents. I feel like this point could have been made more strongly by tying the First Order more directly to the Star Wars upper classes in the Canto Bight section, and I also feel like -given Palpatine’s human-supremacist notions and racism- there should have been far more humans among the upper crust and far fewer aliens, but I recognize that, on the first point, TFA had kind of written them into a corner on this topic in how it chose to present the FO/Resistance conflict, and on the second, that the impulse to show their creature-making chops(and include a Cantina Scene in the film) would be quite strong. Also I’m sure that, while Johnson may be given the writer credit on this film, Disney had significant input on the film and its overall message, and tying wealth/the wealthy explicitly to conservative politics and its perennial abuses(slavery, corruption, war, extracting wealth for the non-wealthy through political manipulation[in this case, weapons-trading and the war-mongering that makes it most profitable]) is far too liberal/leftist a message for a company like Disney to tolerate in their films.
Rey’s story is just excellent in so many ways but a lot of my appreciation of it is tied up with TLJ’s choice to go with a more OT(original trilogy) and Zen approach to the Force which I’ll talk about separately so I don’t know how much I’ll say on this here. It was a very intimate and internal story, structured almost like Buddhist monk tales(so sort of fairytale)[1]. Like: She comes to Luke, Luke doesn’t want to teach her, then in response to her persistence he says “I’ll give you three lessons over three days”(which I remember as taking place at Dawn, Midday, and either Dusk or Evening on three consecutive days, but my brain might be making that particular referential bit up; I’d need to see it again), except these lessons are meant to teach her why she should give up on The Force. Of course(in eternal trophic tradition), her purity of purpose, will, and dedication ends up instead teaching Him that his choice to turn his back on The Force and the Universe was wrong, and bringing him back into engagement with the World.
Her interactions with Ren follow a similar trophic logic(which, again, I’ll talk about in another post) except along a more “two students” than “master and student” narrative. They are both pursuing the same thing(self knowledge and control; mastery and understanding of The Force) but for very different reasons and from very different backgrounds, and these reasons and backgrounds directly influence where they end up: Rey’s “success” at accepting and internalizing them with equanimity while also setting her desires aside, leading her to Balance; Ren’s “failure” to do so by seeking the “strength” to dominate and “kill” them, and thus continual consumption by and obsession with his past and his desires. Their interactions are deeply personal, concerning their emotions and confusion and fears, and also somewhat unsettling(which I think they should be) but I don’t think that they are, at all, romantic; though there is a simultaneously humorous and disturbing scene where Ren is topless, Rey asks him to get dressed, and he refuses. Humorous for the obvious reasons; disturbing as there’s a sense to all of Ren’s behaviors in these moments of trying to manipulate her. Rey is eternally reaching for understanding, even as she feels rage, sorrow, and disgust for the monster he has chosen to become, and he is eternally trying to use her reaching as a means to power, as he uses everything. Again, the “two student” dynamic: the “good” one who seeks enlightenment honestly, and the “bad” who enters the monastery for the political and social power a monk’s life can afford; even their relative social condition -her a nameless orphan, him an aristocrat from a bloodline filled with important monastic figures- plays into the dynamics and traditions of these stories.
Ok that’s about it for right now. The next one will probably deal more in-depth with Rey’s story and how The Force is presented.
[1]Though maybe I’m wrong about these particular parallels I’m drawing here. My exposure to these tales is very limited, and mostly I know Japanese ones(though some of those are transformations of earlier Indian, Chinese, and Vietnamese ones), so perhaps these aren’t the prevalent Buddhist narratives I took them as.
8 notes
·
View notes