#the good in danny despite the anger and emotions he often displays

[herveiwfromthefloor]

Of course this is the first post I read on Tumblr today, I wasn't expecting to get hit by mcdanno so hard. 5x07 is such a gem of an episode and it amazes me how with every rewatch people have more thoughts and metas. My favorite type of episode is a super whumpy and emotional one with lots of family stuff mixed in and that's basically 5x07 in a nutshell. I'm always so amazed with Alex's acting, he leaves me breathless.

I started writing in the tags and then I couldn't stop so they get quite rambly. Sorry to anyone who reads this. 🤣

Tonight they broadcasted episode 5x07.

Huh. Been a while since I last watched it.

I'm not here to state the obvious, since there are better meta around here. I'm not even entertaining the thought of why Steve chose not to redeem Kamekona or Jerry.

No. It's another idea that's obsessing me since the first minutes of the episode (as always, I'm ignoring the only thing in canon that I allow myself to ignore, i.e. P*L existence. Things go like this bc reasons, not surely their writing).

The thing is, since when I remember existing, I've always been a lucid dreamer, meaning I'm almost always aware of being asleep and dreaming, and most of the times I'm also able to shift, change and control what happens inside the dreams, wake up at command if things get horrible, or in case they're good or interesting (very rare eventuality) and I'm suddenly awakened, I can go back and resume the dreaming from where it stopped.

See my point? I suddenly understood that, drugs or not, there was no way Steve could've been awakened, tortured, drugged, and then start dreaming/hallucinating exactly from the moment he had stopped, keeping the story continuity. He was subconsciously steering the dream. He had some sort of control over it, despite his conditions.

Not just this. He was given drugs to tell the truth...so what I implied, is that Steve was specifically imagining something he believed so strongly inside his head, that his subconscious had subverted reality and translated it into this new one.

Which means....how many times Steve had already daydreamed about this alternate reality? How many times had he indulged in these sort of reverie, sitting alone on his chair at night, on the sand, listening just to the ocean waves? How long had he refined this fantasy of his, carving details and sceneries, choosing words and actions, settings, characters? How many times had this alternate universe he wanted so desperately to be reality, come visiting him in his dreams, and how many times had he changed some subtle detail until his story and Danny's were perfectly never-endingly happy, and yer together?

Steve has spent his whole fucking life being the savior, the protector, the defender, the self-sacrificing lamb. Steve has always been the one never allowed to fail, except for Freddie, and his dad. He couldn’t save Freddie, because it was his oen fault and his own alone, and nobody could've prevented Freddie's death except Steve, and Steve failed.

Not his dad. Listen, in this universe he could've saved Victor's brother, and so also his dad. But Steve is fucking tired of saving everyone and everything and never fucking up, so in this universe he fucked up too. It wasn’t Steve changing fate: it was Danny. Danny is Steve’s valorous knight in shining armour. Danny is Steve’s savior, Steve’s protector, Steve’s defender. Danny's the one saving his father, capturing Hesse, gaining the intel from him with questionable methods thus sparing Steve from always staining his hands, finding Wo Fat.

Danny here has Steve's back in many ways, much more than usual. Danny saves Steve from falling deeper into the pit he's nevertheless fsllen after his father death. Danny's changed Steve’s fate, even more than in reality: not for nothing, Steve’s and Danny's scene drinking beer on the beach at the end of the day is replaced with Steve and John drinking the same beers in the same spot at the same hour. Danny's become Steve’s father figure after John's death, but in a universe where John was saved in time, it's been Danny, Steve’s hero, the father who's replaced his own, saving John....not Steve.

Of course Danny is happy, of course he's chosen Ohau over Jersey (because Steve still fears Danny will flee away), of course he's married with an adored Rachel (because Steve is still heartbroken after Danny's hook-up with her after the sarin, and of course he cannot believe he could ever beat her for Danny's heart), of course Danny drives Steve around (because Steve unconsciously would love so damn hard to let Danny take control and chase every worry away), of course it's Danny asking Steve to stay and work with him.

And so on. Every little detail is hurting even more if you think that maybe Steve was just reliving a fantasy he'd honed and polished for years, night after night, daydream after daydream, waiting for his brave knight to barge in and save him from himself and his fate.

I'm not ok.

[ewingstan]

While I’m sure all capes’ personalities change a bit in response to their passengers’ conflict-seeking behavioral drives, I also feel like some capes are able to work with their passengers especially well because they already had such drives. In particular, I feel like Taylor was always the type of person whose negative emotions drove her to seek out conflict, even before her passenger. That is, if her father is any indication.

Its a well-established observation that Taylor often feels lost when she isn’t burying herself in some goal, usually one that puts her in direct odds with several powerful people who she knows will respond with force. But due to his relative powerlessness, it often gets overlooked how Danny Hebert matches his daughter in this regard. Consider the incidents where he steps up the most as a father—it’s not to comfort Taylor when she appears stressed by the bullies, it’s not to confront her when she comes back from her late-night excursion. He more-or-less fails at such tasks when he tries them, and comes up with several rationalizations about why he shouldn’t even make attempts. Its only when he’s fighting against someone for her, facing off against figures who would do her harm, that he fully and confidently performs the duties of a father. Meeting with the school authorities about Emma’s bullying campaign, siding with Taylor during her interrogation at the PRT headquarters, providing testimony to get her into the Chicago wards—its in such instances where he’s at his most animated, his most capable, even if his efforts are stymied. Its also where Taylor is most appreciative of him, regardless of outcome, indicating that its an effective means of emotionally connecting with his daughter. But while he’s arguably excellent at advocating for Taylor, fighting the good fight against unfair administrators and unyielding bureaucracies, he has almost no ability to help her otherwise. He doesn’t know how to talk to Taylor about her problems, or how to be someone she can take solace in. He avoids bringing up his concerns as a parent because he can’t see himself doing so without acting aggressive and combative. He’s a machine built for conflict, routinely made impotent by problems that conflict can’t solve. Much like Taylor was, until her cape career put her in a situation where every problem really was a nail.

Danny’s aggressive nature, and how it affects his behavior, is much the same as Taylor’s. Like her, he can be incredibly intimidating despite a relatively unassuming appearance—what Taylor accomplishes with cold displays of violence, Danny achieves with his legendary anger. He’s described as breaking into tirades that “leave people shaking,” even to the point of people fearing for their safety. Like Taylor, he probably leans on this fairly often in his day-to-day. It’s a trait that seems useful for a worker representative—I know I’d want my union rep to be someone bosses wouldn’t want to piss off, and WoG suggests that Danny’s ability to keep his position reflects well on his abilities in this arena (though I may be over-interpreting). Taylor, similarly, relies on intimidation extensively in her career as a cape (this arguably becomes even more true once she goes hero). Their intimidating nature can also be hard to control in both cases—Danny has a hard time keeping a lid on his anger, and Taylor often uses her reputation as a crutch for her lack of charm. Both of them know this about themselves, however, which pushes them to inaction in many situations where the alternative would risk damaging outbursts. Most tragically, each Hebert’s ability to communicate with the other is hampered by this fear. Danny avoids confronting Taylor directly about her truancy and late-night excursions because he doesn’t want to risk getting worked up and yelling at her, something he made a promise to himself to avoid. Taylor avoids telling Danny about her lifestyle because she doesn’t want him to be frightened of his supervillain daughter, especially upon seeing how ruthless she can get. Both are actually fairly justified in their fears: Danny damaged Taylor’s ability to confide in him by blowing up at her teachers in the hospital, and Taylor very nearly scared Danny into giving up on her after killing Tagg in front of him. 

All this makes me curious about how Taylor would ultimately respond to the continued bullying campaign if she never got her powers. In the story as told, she is incredibly passive regarding her treatment, avoiding it when possible and taking it silently when not. Emma speculates this is an attempt to stave them off by not giving them a reaction. While this may have been initially true, in the first chapter Taylor states that she now avoids fighting back because she fears she’d quickly escalate into going “full Carrie” on the school. Paradoxically, in a world where Taylor had less power to level against her assailants, she may have been more likely to indulge in a violent outburst, as she would have less need to fear the consequences: the greater school isn’t in danger without her swarm, and no birdcage would await her if she wasn’t a cape.

TLDR: Taylor would have decked Emma a lot sooner if she never got powers.

[slickbackdani]

Batman Movie Villains Ranked from Worst to Best

Recently, a YouTuber I follow by the name of Mr. Rogues released a list of Batman villains ranked from worst to best. I have nothing but the utmost of respect for Mr. Rogues as a content creator, but I took issue with his list because his long-standing biases were often the deciding factor in many of his rankings. So, I decided to do a list of my own.

I’ll be going over every Batman villain to appear in the movies, briefly analyzing their portrayals and ranking them on a scale of 1 to 5. To prevent the list from being too cluttered, I’ll be separating the villains by which movie series they’re part of. Here we go!

Burton/Schumacher Tetralogy

Bane: Perhaps the only villain in this series I’d call “bad.” The calculating tactician of the comics is nowhere to be found here; instead, he’s reduced to a monosyllabic, brain-dead stooge for the other villains. Overall, he does nothing that couldn’t be done by a random henchman. 1/5

Two-Face: A deeply layered villain in the comics, Two-Face sadly gets upstaged by the other major rogue in the movie, but that’s not to say he doesn’t leave an impression. Tommy Lee Jones gives him a manic and mercurial demeanor that, combined with his colorful design, wouldn’t be out of place in the Adam West series. The size and scope of his criminal organization make him a genuine threat, and there’s something darkly fitting about Batman’s former ally being responsible for the creation of Robin. 3/5

Poison Ivy: Mr. Rogues for some reason ranked her as the worst Batman movie villain of all time, and frankly, I don’t see why. Like Tommy Lee Jones as Two-Face, Uma Thurman gives this character a delightfully over-the-top demeanor that combines with a colorful, comic-booky ensemble to make for another great “what-if-this-character-appeared-in-the-Adam-West-series” take. She does a good job juggling the differing facets of Ivy’s character: she’s the put-upon cynic, the craven opportunist, the radical eco-terrorist, and the suave seductress all in one package. 3.5/5

The Penguin: Fuck the Razzies. Danny DeVito made this role his own and set the stage for the character for years to come. He’s a bit of a departure, but a welcome one: far from the refined gentleman of crime Burgess Meredith portrayed, this Penguin is an animalistic thug warped by a lifetime of anger and hatred of the society who rejected him due to his deformities. His signature wardrobe, trick umbrellas, and Penguin gimmick are all there, but DeVito sells the role by showing amazing versatility: he can go from a comical and pitiable weirdo to a terrifying sociopath at the drop of a stovepipe hat. 4/5

Mr. Freeze: I honestly can’t say much about this character that my mutual @wonderfulworldofmichaelford hasn’t already. Arnold Schwarzenegger perfectly encapsulates both popular versions of this character: the flamboyant, pun-loving criminal genius from the Adam West series and the Animated Series’ traumatized scientist desperate to cure his loving wife of her terminal illness. Sure, the puns and hammy one-liners are what this version character is known for, but Ahnold definitely knows when to apply the brakes and give a greatly emotional performance as he tries desperately to cure his wife. 4.5/5

Max Shreck: Probably the only time you’ll see a movie-exclusive character on this list, and deservedly so. Corrupt businessmen are dime-a-dozen in Batman stories, and most of them have little personality outside of being greedy scumbags who either get defeated by the hero or betrayed by the other villains. Shreck, however, is different. Not only does he have an eye-catching fashion sense on par with any of Batman’s famous rogues, but Christopher Walken brings his signature manic intensity to the role, creating a character that’s as wicked and sinister as he is cool and stylish. You totally buy that the general public sees him as the good guy. His warm relationship with his son is also a delight to watch. 4.5/5

Catwoman: Michelle Pfeiffer does a lot to really make the character her own. She gets a lot of genuinely badass moments, but underneath all of her coolness lies the undercurrent that she’s a broken, traumatized character lashing out at the people who abused her and took her for granted. Even when she takes these ideals to unreasonable extremes, you never stop feeling like the retribution she brings on her enemies is at least a little warranted. Also, she has amazing romantic chemistry with Batman and her costume is fucking metal. 5/5

The Ridder: It’s Jim Carrey. 5/5

The Joker: This role is perhaps the one that set the standard for future Jokers to follow: Jack Nicholson’s humorous yet unnerving performance signaled to audiences early on that this would not be the goofy trickster of the Silver Age, but a different beast entirely. This Joker is a film noir gangster on crack: a disfigured mob hitman who quickly takes the entire criminal underworld by storm and unleashes his special brand of chaos and destruction across Gotham. He’s an artist, a showman, a charismatic leader, and the man responsible for ruining Bruce Wayne’s life. 5/5

Christopher Nolan Trilogy

Talia al Ghul: You know that recent trend in Disney movies where a side character we thought was harmless and inconsequential turned out to have been the villain all along in a twist with no buildup or foreshadowing with the reveal happening too late in the movie for this character to really do anything cool or impressive before being unceremoniously defeated? That’s Talia. DKR is the weakest of the three Nolan films, and I feel like it would’ve been much better received without this twist villain contrivedly shoehorned in. Also, while I could kinda forgive the trilogy’s whitewashing of other villains like Ra’s al Ghul and Bane due to the talent their actors display, Marion Cotillard doesn’t get a pass because she just doesn’t have the charisma or screen presence needed to pull it off. 1/5

Victor Zsasz: While the idea of redefining Zsasz as an over enthusiastic mob hitman instead of a serial killer is very interesting, it’s ruined by the fact that he barely even appears in the movie and doesn’t really do or say much of anything despite the buildup he gets. 1.5/5

Two-Face: Aaron Eckhart portrays Harvey Dent as a character of tragedy in a slightly different way than other tragic villains in superhero movies: he’s lashing out at a society he feels wronged him, but instead of being a lifelong outcast or put-upon loser, he was a handsome, successful crusader for the common good who lost everything he once held dear all in one fell swoop. You really feel for him even as he does horrible things. If I had to nitpick, though, I am slightly bothered by the fact that he plays some comic book movie cliches straight (i.e. they never call him by his alias and he dies at the end,) but it’s a solid performance overall. 3/5

Scarecrow: I’ll be upfront and admit that I’m more than a little annoyed that certain facets of the character had been changed in the name of “realism” — once again, they never call him by his villain name and he never wears a comic-accurate costume — but other than that, I can’t complain. Cillian Murphy plays the character with a smarmy, eerie charm that really makes his scenes stand out, his willingness to ally himself with other villains suits his character well, and the fact that he appears in three consecutive films with a different evil scheme in each really helps tie the movies together. 3.5/5

Catwoman: Much like other secondary villains in this trilogy, she really doesn’t get a chance to shine compared to the main antagonist — and, once again, it pisses me off a little that they do the whole “never refer to her as Catwoman but vaguely hint at it” thing — but she’s everything a modern Catwoman should be. She’s sly, manipulative, really holds her own in a fight, has great chemistry with Bruce Wayne... it’s all there. It’s also great to see Anne Hathaway break away from her usual type casting to play a role this dynamic. 4/5

Ra’s al Ghul: He’s a character that was in desperate need of mainstream exposure, and by God that’s what he got. Making him Bruce Wayne’s mentor adds a layer of personal tragedy to the climax where our hero has to stop the man who made him who he is from destroying Gotham with his admittedly brilliant plan. Add in a strong, captivating performance from Liam Neeson before we found out he was a racist asshole, and we’ve got one hell of an overarching villain. 4.5/5

The Joker: Everybody’s already discussed this version of the character to hell and back and likely will for years to come, so I’ll keep it very brief. He’s funny, he’s badass, he’s terrifying, he has great dialogue, it sucks that Heath Ledger didn’t live to see his performance reach the audience it got, and he basically makes the entire film. 5/5

Bane: Mr. Rogues actually ranked Bane higher than Joker on his list, and keeping it 100, I actually agree with him here. Finally, after decades of being dumbed down and misrepresented outside of comics, Bane is finally portrayed as the tactical genius from the comics. Tom Hardy plays Bane to perfection, being very believable as the peak of human physical and mental achievement, the man who broke Batman physically and emotionally. His design is iconic, his every line is quotable, his voice is weirdly fitting, and the memes are funny. 5/5

DC Extended Universe

KGBeast: Another point where I agree wholeheartedly with Mr. Rogues. He is absolutely wasted in BVS, being nothing but a generic henchman for Lex Luthor. He doesn’t wear his costume from the comics, he’s never referred to by his alias, he doesn’t have his signature cybernetic enhancements, and he never does or says anything noteworthy. 1/5

The Joker: Ugh. I don’t know what’s worst: the tacky clothes, the stupid tattoos, the weird Richard Nixon impression that passes as his voice, the fact that promotional material hyped him up as a “beautiful tragedy” of a character even though he’s only in the movie for like 10 minutes and barely does anything, Jared Leto’s toxic edgelord behavior on set done with the flimsy pretense of “getting into character,” or the fact that he’s just trying to copy Heath Ledger instead of making the role his own. 1/5

Victor Zsasz: Chris Messina proves undoubtedly that Zsasz CAN work as a secondary villain in a Batman movie. He’s once again a mob assassin who enjoys his job a little too much, but unlike Batman Begins, he really gets time to shine. He’s just as sadistic and depraved as in the comics, but he also has this disarming, casual demeanor about him like he’s just indulging a hobby instead of slicing innocent people’s faces off. His close friendship with his boss Black Mask adds some depth to the character as well. 3/5

Killer Croc: Sadly, he doesn’t get much time in the spotlight, but he’s pretty cool nonetheless. The makeup and prosthetics used to create him look amazing, and Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje’s deep voice and imposing body language make him really stand out as an intimidating presence. He’s often in the background, which fits his role as an outcast by choice and a man of few words, but whenever he does get focus, he has everyone’s attention. It really would be a shame if this character’s only appearance was in a mediocre schlock action movie, but he makes the most of what he has. 3.5/5

Deadshot: Another highlight of what would otherwise be a forgettable film, Deadshot is just as cool and competent as he’s always been in other media, but this portrayal stands out for one simple reason. Will Smith was a very odd choice to play the role, but it worked out for the best here because you get the sense he truly understands the characters. He’s ruthless and pragmatic, but has just as enough charm and depth to make him likable. 4/5

Black Mask: I, like many, was skeptical when I saw early trailers depicting Roman Sionis as a foppish weirdo who doesn’t wear his signature mask, but upon seeing the final movie, I really feel like he has the high ground over other DCEU villains. Ewan McGregor is endlessly captivating in the role, portraying him as a swaggering dandy who is nevertheless dangerous due to his boundless narcissism and explosive temper. Sure, those who deal in absolutes would be put off from the differences with his comic counterpart — who is far more cold and humorless — but from a certain point of view, this flamboyant take on the character isn’t so much a departure as it is an addition to make him stand out while keeping his role the same. Black Mask has always been a middleman between the traditional mobsters of yesteryear and the colorful rogues that plague Gotham today, and this portrayal perfectly encapsulates that. He works in the shadows, but isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty; he flies off the handle and gets reckless at times, but there’s no question that the whole operation was his idea. 5/5

Harley Quinn: Margot Robbie owns this role. She’s unbelievably dazzling as a badass, funny, sexy antihero who deals greatly with tragedy and proves that there’s always been more to her than her initial role as the Joker’s sidekick. Again, not much to say, but she’s almost perfect. 5/5