#the show is so deeply neurodivergent at its core

[pocket-sized-nightmare]

someday i'm going to post my analysis of the unleashed through a neurodivergent lens and the 2 remaining riftside fans on this website are not going to be ready

[spikeinthepunch]

as Craig of the Creek is coming to a close in the near future, i cant help but repeat again and again forever just how fantastic that show was and how i do wish it garnered more attention in tumblr's general cartoon fandom circle. it got little bursts of love when episodes about important topics came out, but it never saw it keep that love consistently- the whole show deserved that high praise.

CotC followed in the footsteps of Steven Universe and did more with that opening to representation and diversity!! this really showed how important SU was for cartoons. CotC has an incredibly diverse cast- in show and out of show. The writers/artists/storyboarders/etc themselves- poc, neurodivergent, and lgbt put their stories into these episodes by writing them into characters. cultures and experiences explored in ways i had never seen so frequently and so deeply in a kids show. i might have some bias but my internship on the show for a summer really let me see even more how that crew as a whole put their hearts into it, and how much that diversity is so important to any piece of art.

poc showing their home lives, unique experiences, and cultures. kids discovering their sexuality and being able to talk with older gays for advice! exploring the struggles and feeling with a kid who heavily implies having autism, genderfluid characters respected and unquestioned (and one being a literal creeksona of the nonbinary board artist Angel Lorenzana!), and overall the wide range of experiences children having with their parents, friends and overall life.

they are children, they write them will and are entertaining to everyone imo. when i saw the show has "serious" plot i mean that these writers care, they care a lot about making these characters mean something in the story, and that being for "kids" wont make them hold back on important messages, deeper feelings, and realistic actions. the world is shown through the lens of "playing pretend" to have those fantastical moments, but they pull back many times to show the reality. sometimes you make mistakes but you learn, you dont agree with your parents but you work it out, you make bad decisions and hurt your friends but you can grow. (in some ways i wonder if tumblr would devolve into old the SU thoughts of 'redemption' on these 10 year olds too and get mad about the 12 year old being redeemed for bullying so, maybe its ok it doesnt have a fandom that big lol). the shows core ideas bring a special kind of nostalgia- one part in the form of seeing myself in the world they made, but also getting to relive a feeling of childhood that maybe i didnt get.

i hope in the future people can discover this show. it was axed (along with its spinoff) in half by the execs. there were at least 7 more episodes ready to be made before they cut it. im so happy they ended up with 181 episodes and a movie, but it deserved to keep going. it got a good 5 years but it shouldve had more, it felt like a timeless show.

[incorrectcommunication]

Komi Can Communicate

Today, I'm going to break style slightly. Instead of incorrectly quoting the characters, or reblogging stuff other people made for the fandom, I'm going to share my thoughts about Komi-san. (The series; I here refer to is as Komi-san for brevity. The character will simply be called Komi.)

Let's start with something straightforwardly good. Remember the chalkboard scene? Of course you do—it's the inciting incident for the entire series, the most iconic moment, and one of the few scenes where the anime adaptation rises above the level of "serviceable".

But why is it so good? Personally, I'd argue the main reason it stands out so much (in both manga and anime) is because of how it ties to the core hook of the series. Komi doesn't talk, so people assume she can't communicate at all...but Tadano finds a way to communicate with her.

In a vacuum, it's a sweet little moment that establishes the protagonists' characters and the story's themes. In a real-world context, it's meaningful. People like Komi really exist. According to what passes for my research, something like 0.6-0.9% of the population has some degree of nonspeaking autism.* The treatment for these people is not to drag them out of their shell until they learn to talk; it's to accommodate their communication needs.

Some communicate with tablets or other electronic devices, some use flashcards or sign language, and some use written language like Komi. And to its credit, Komi-san treats her written communication and gestures as valid ways to communicate. Sometimes it gets used in a joke, but mostly it's just how Komi talks. That's good!

I wish it had stayed that way.

Over time, Komi starts to talk. Like, with her vocal cords and tongue. I don't want to reread several dozen manga chapters to check, but I'm pretty sure the last time she uses her notebook was a bit before chapter 300, during the school-trip-to-NYC arc. She's not chatty by any means, but she doesn't have much difficulty talking.

This increased use of speech was meant to symbolize Komi coming out of her shell, becoming more confident and sociable. As she talks more, she becomes less passive, taking more agency in her story, begins to assert herself. While her written communication isn't de-legitimized, exactly, it's definitely devalued, treated as an inferior substitute for acting neurotypical.

To be clear: I only find this remarkable in the specific context of a series which starts with something like the chalkboard scene. Overcoming disability with the power of friendship or saying that they just needed to have confidence is kinda ableist, but the context makes it a lot less bad than that sounds. I don't want people to think I'm trying to "cancel" Komi-san or Tomohito Oda. I'm not mad, just...disappointed.

Some of this is personal; I have autism. Not as severe as many, to be clear; I can talk, just not as well as NT people. But it still felt personally meaningful to see a series which treated an ambiguously autistic character with such respect, which didn't devalue her for her communication disorder*, didn't see it as a problem that needed to be corrected. And it was deeply frustrating to see the series slowly undermine that empathy by treating it as a problem Komi had overcome.

I assume Tomohito Oda didn't intend that. I assume it was meant to be empowering, to show people with "communication disorders"* overcoming their limitations. He just failed. He correlated Komi losing her communication disorder with her becoming empowered, confident, happy. Whatever he was trying to say, he wound up implying that people like Komi should, or at least can, improve their lives by acting more like neurotypical people. By going through a character arc until they stop being disabled.

On one hand, it's possible for some people with autism or other "communication disorders"* to mitigate their "symptoms" and live a better life through it. On the other hand, that's not a realistic option. Lots of neurodivergent kids get traumatized by attempts to make them act "normal," and many of them internalize their "failure" to become "normal" as a character flaw.

Again, this is me hyperfixating on a relatively small flaw in a pretty good manga series. If this kind of plotline showed up in something like Sia's Music, it would probably be an improvement. But while it hurts to be reminded of how ableist that dumpster-fire is, it's a very acute type of pain; it doesn't stick around once I let it leave my mind.

Seeing a series like Komi-san come so close and still f*k up hurts in a deeper way. It's objectively nowhere near the same level; if I saw someone earnestly comparing Music and Komi-san on how they misrepresent autistic* people, I'd think they were crazy.

And yet, watching Komi grow and heal through things that can help real neurodivergent people—friends who understand and accept them, accommodations for their specific disorders, and generally not suffering from the abuse and attrition disabled people so often suffer IRL—only to have that growth and healing manifest as her disorder slowly fading away until it's at a normal shy-girl level...I don't know.

It hurts, and it sticks. It feels like a betrayal. It feels like evidence that we'll never be understood or accepted, if even the people trying to show empathy f*k up like this. I've been thinking about it since manga!Komi started talking regularly, more and more as her other methods of communication faded away, and I still don't know how to describe how all of this makes me feel.

Part of that cocktail of feelings is the sense that I shouldn't complain. There are so many series—from Japan, the West, and all of the rest—which handle neurodivergent characters so much worse. There are plenty which much more explicitly and intentionally frame "overcoming" a disability as something neurodivergent people should do. And yet, none of those stick in my mind the way this flaw in Komi-san does.

I didn't mean to ramble on this long. I thought I could describe a bit of how Komi's been acting in the manga, describe why it bugged me, and write a quick conclusion. That conclusion is now most of the post. Sorry about that—whatever my statements in the intro may lead you to believe, I'm not good at brevity.

Ugh, that's a terrible conclusion. Um...go read the manga, I guess? Go and decide what you think about the stuff I've been describing here, see if you can articulare your thoughts better. Bonus: You'll be able to understand who these Ase and Manbagi people are. I've been trying not to use unadapted characters in my quotes too much, but I haven't not been using them.

FOOTNOTE

*The Japanese word "komyushou" does not refer to any specific disorder. It's basically impossible for someone on the English-speaking internet to google details about how, exactly, the term is used, thanks to this one manga that floods your search results, but it's broader than just autism. That said, Komi fits an autism diagnosis pretty well, and even if she's not autistic, she's meant to represent some actual group of people with communication disorders.

Languages are important, but language barriers are frustrating. There's no English word which means quite the same thing as "komyushou," which is a problem for people who care about saying exactly what they mean to say, which is important both when discussing certain sensitive subjects and for certain autistic people. It's me, I'm certain autistic people, I hate being misunderstood.

[kieu-tou]

completely speechless over how beautiful this season was, how important it is, what message it sends, what stories it tells - stories about the reality of sapphic relationships, learning disabilities, acceptance, vulnerability, human connection. at its core, it’s a piece of media about real people and their real lives, portraying underrepresented experiences, telling stories in a personal, touching and sensible way. for so many, including myself, this season meant seeing things on the screen that you can really relate to for the first time ever, feeling for the characters and feeling with them, being able to translate what you realised through their experiences into your own life, feeling seen, accepted, encouraged, reassured - and all of this is priceless.

to see a black neurodivergent lesbian like fatou, a fully fleshed out character with her own quirks, a passion for music & caring for animals, reconnecting with her roots, who is falling in love with a vietnamese-german bisexual girl, out but still dealing with internalised biphobia and a lot of other insecurities, is revolutionary in itself. but the fact that they, and other characters, are never only just defined by one aspect of their identity makes it even more special - they are allowed to be multifaceted, complicated, real characters. you can feel the love between them and relate to them so deeply. the two of them have a special connection from the get go, but they also have to put in the effort to properly understand each other’s needs. they make mistakes, but they care so much & learn to work through difficulties together.

fatou’s learning disability is - expertly and realistically - shown to affect every single aspect of her life over time - her relationships, home life, academic prospects, work, self esteem, mental wellbeing. fatou is seen to struggle with numbers and attention from day one, ‘normalising’ those issues for the viewer, and, as she becomes more overwhelmed & affected by her LD to a greater extent, it makes us realise the gravity of it. we see fatou doubt herself, lose self confidence, feel lonely, judged by her family and friends, misunderstood, ashamed - familiar feelings for a lot of us who deal with mental health issues or disabilities. but then, we see her slowly realising that she shouldn’t be ashamed, and that it’s so important to open up and ask for help in times of struggle - followed by her receiving support & her diagnosis. this is SUCH an important storyline - it shows that even though it can be so difficult to reach out, and that it won’t be an immediate solution to the problem, there are people out there who can and want to help you. more often than not, you’re capable of making positive change for yourself, but you don’t have to do it all on your own.

another important story that druck tells this season is one about connection - how we all need to feel seen and listened to, how we share the fear of not being ‘good enough’, how we build walls around ourselves for protection and acceptance. we’ve been shown how lack of listening and understanding breeds conflict and hurt - both in the relationship between fatou and kieu my, and among the cashqueens. but also that this conflict is sometimes needed, and can actually foster growth, empathy and reassurance in relationships and show us how important those things are. we see fatou and other characters grow and learn and become more attentive, more intentionally supportive, realise that everyone around them is struggling with their own things. similarly, the fear of not being ‘good enough’ or not being seen for who they really are manifests in many characters - fatou, kieu my, ava. but, through their trials and tribulations, i think we see all of these characters get on the way to realising that they aren’t too much or not enough to take, that they are lovable and great the way that they are. and that’s a beautiful thing to show.

speaking of showing beautiful things - it’s amazing to see a friendship like the one between ava and fatou depicted on screen. a friendship between two black girls who support each other, have so much fun together, who hold each other accountable, a friendship where there is space for conflict, difficult conversations and for forgiveness. seeing it was so healing.

and, as a non black person it’s not my place to make extensive judgements about how the conflict between ava and mailin was resolved, but i do really appreciate druck effectively making a commentary on white fragility and white feminism and activism, and how it affects black people on a daily basis - a commentary that i believe will make a lot of people reflect and start conversations in their own lives. mailin, despite her self-proclaimed active anti-racism, was clearly depicted to be in the wrong not just once, but several times. the conflict wasn’t limited to a couple of clips, but rather stretched over most of the season, showing how these conversations can’t just be one-and-done - they are ongoing and difficult, but so necessary.

this season means so much to so many people; so many of us feel connected to these characters and their storylines, really empathise with them, and i for one know that they will stay with me for a really long time. i’m so thankful to all the writers, cast and the rest of the team for creating this special story and bringing it to life. and, more than anything, i really hope that the druck team will be able to continue telling these stories in the future

[kunthug]

𝔢𝔵𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔶𝔯𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪

extracts on the lyric as form, fragments as form, form as language, form as expression

embodying in particular the lyric essay form as “a fact-hungry pursuit of solutions to problems” and also “what happens when an essay begins to behave less like an essay and more like a poem.” it can approximate the rich texture of a lyric essay or literary collage, holding together multiple layers of meaning that operate at different levels—personal, social, historical. [1]

emily dickinson too was a lyric person.

“...the fragments are then so many stones on the perimeter of a circle: I spread myself around: my whole little universe in crumbs; at the center, what?”

— Roland Barthes.

A book that is made up of fragments… There is white space, therefore.

Ghosts coming and going, adding and subtracting, rearranging the air.

—J. D’Agata

Dear Void

And what is a constellation anyway, but a shape we temporarily trace in that vast pause, a lyric of geometry we speak into an otherwise dark and uncertain space? [2]

The loose criteria for the lyric essay seems to invoke a kind of nonfiction not burdened by research or fact, yet responsible (if necessary) to sense and poetry, shrewdly allegiant to no expectations of genre other than the demands of its own subject.[3]

The lyric poem is a highly concentrated and passionate form of communication between strangers—an immediate, intense, and unsettling form of literary discourse. Reading poetry is a way of connecting—through the medium of language—more deeply with yourself even as you connect more deeply with another. The poem delivers on our spiritual lives precisely because it simultaneously gives us the gift of intimacy and interiority, privacy and participation. [4]

//

the lyric makes for romantic times.

\\

of strangeness that wakes us, ilya kaminsky

and the declarations, excesses, and realism of the lyric!!!

and as for me, doing my take on the canto, inventing the splitlectic, most recognisably achieved as the lyric/lyric essay, is negotiating with language to write as close as posible to how my body can/wants, a staying faithful to neurodivergence, the intricacies of my perceptions. words in fragments moves from just conceptual exercises of perverse-ing language to spatially represent marginal aesthetics and gestures, rhythms, other modes of expression unfettered by colonial ableist standards. numerous, many ranges, many affinities, anarchic, socialist— why, that’s the only way. that the way i use the lyric is me to the core!

more thoughts: if i am a being, the lyric is my dwelling, if i am human, the lyric is the most ideal house(& architecture). eventually, i will write a long essay that articulates everything: the lyric as a poetics of embodiment, lyric as the form that makes more sense as being trans*, and negotiating my engagement with language; the lyric as monstrous, as siren song, the lyric as disruptor, the lyric as a poetics of space, the lyric as a form that honors my neurodivergence. the lyric has the conjuring of my romantic, playful, wayward, fey and rhythmic sensibilities. the lyric as water, loose, sensuous, spirit-form. it’s all so dear and precious to me, it has been delightful to watch how this is spilling is also showing itself in the type clothing i want to wear, the art i make, this magical stitching, this muse of motion.

the lyric is a sharper way to see.

[japes-the-clown]

THE SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS MOVIE: AN INVERSION ON “COMING OF AGE” FILMS AND A CRITICISM OF ADULTHOOD

Hi hello hey it’s me Jericho Jay “Japes” Marshall out here with a pretentious love letter to the filmmaking on display in nickelodeons The Spongebob Movie. Yes, I know it’s a kids movie. Yes, I know it’s not that deep. But I’m majoring in english, and deeply depressed, so I need to get this OUT and onto a PAGE.

I have watched this film many times over my lifetime, a few when i was just a kid, then in my early teens, even when i turned eighteen, and now, a month before i turn 20. Every time, I grow a new appreciation for the nuances that this movie brings to the table, and on my most recent watch my own deliverance from childhood makes me relate to the core themes the hardest I ever have. The Spongebob Movie isn’t just a movie about childhood, but a movie about adulthood.

Today, I’m going to make clear exactly how The Spongebob Squarepants Movie criticizes our understanding of adulthood and how society treats the neurodivergent, while effectively turning the “Coming of Age” genre on its head, within its 87 minute runtime.

START: CONSISTENT CHARACTERIZATION

One thing a lot of films (ESPECIALLY kids films) fail to nail is consistently showing aspects of a character throughout the runtime, enough that changes to a character feel impactful and justified instead of rushed and stifled. The best examples of movies that fail to do this are often the marvel movies that people tend to not remember- the first two thor movies, the avengers age of ultron, etc. In these movies, characters certainly have traits, but their personalities and motives can be very weak and make dramatic changes feel A LOT less dramatic. This can be seen in age of ultron, when quicksilver gave his own life to save someone else, which felt like nothing because he wasn't well developed. He wasn't particularly endearing, nor did him sacrificing his life contradict a part of his character. It felt very much like the writers trying to say "Look, this character which was once opposing the avengers, is now dying for one. Please cry." No hate to the writers of Age of Ultron, but it proves itself often to be an unmemorable part of the catalogue.

In the Spongebob Movie, the characterization is ON. POINT. After the introduction, with the pirates rushing in to watch spongebob, we get so much information regarding spongebob as a character.

Pictured: Spongebob holding a piece of cheese like an operator

The first scene of the plot is a dream sequence a large crowded scene at the Krusty Krab, with a customer not receiving cheese on his patty, and it being positioned in the same way as a bomb being located. In the dream, everyone is panicked, and Mr. Krabs is visibly distressed, almost like a damsel. Spongebob comes in, announcing his position as manager, much to the relief of Krabs. He goes in, and puts cheese on the burger (again, very akin to a bomb defusal scene), bringing the perturbed customer out safe and sound. Everyone lifts spongebob up as a hero, which is interrupted by his boat alarm.

This scene is JAM PACKED with stuff that both introduces the character to new watchers and introduces the crux of his arc to everyone else. Spongebob of course is very fond of the Krusty Krab, and wants to be the manager- he wants people to see him as cool, and as a responsible adult. He wants to be the sort of person that can be trusted with big responsibilities. And we also see, most importantly, that he is extremely childish through his faximile of what it meant to be adult. Everything is scaled up; it's a very silly situation, which well suits both the joke and his character as an inexperienced kid. This is one of the most direct ways to convey someone's character, because a dream can be interpreted as a direct port into a character's desires. This being the first introduction to the character in the movie sets the tone for EVERY following situation.

In the next few scenes you see Spongebob's real life, which involves his lengthy morning routine; his life is sort of whimsical, and so too is his routine. He showers by shoving a hose into himself till he bursts with water, he uses toothpaste to clean his eyes but not his teeth, and he puts on pants which he must fold to make. Again, all pretty solid jokes, but also very telling about his outlook. He is funny, weird, and childish, which is juxtaposed by the scene where he's- he's uh- showering with squidward. Squidward is an example of the "adult" that spongebob isn't. This has always been the case, but here his normal routine makes it very clear that other people in this world aren't like spongebob. They shower normally, they brush their teeth, they put their clothes on like normal. Spongebob's world is one of wonder and without responsibility, which makes it questionable as to whether he could handle one.

Pictured: Spongebob's room, adorned with childhood imagery

Pictured: Spongebob celebrating his position as a manager, despite Krabs saying that it was squidward who got it

Even his room in this scene screams "kid". He has toys strewn about, glow in the dark stars, and pictures of superheroes on the wall. He even says "Sorry about this calendar" as he rips a page, personifying inanimate objects as a kid would. The movie is telling you, "THIS CHARACTER IS A KID", but in a way that's masked because it's also just a set up for jokes. It's done so well, in my opinion, that it would go over your head because from your perspective you would be laughing along as spongebob did his wacky antics.

On top of that, his excitement for his assured managerial position at the Krusty Krab 2 continues to be bolstered. He marked it off with a cute drawing on his calendar, for those familiar he changes his normal "I'm ready" chant to "I'm ready- promotion-", and he's even already set up a party to celebrate at his favorite chain, Goofy Goobers, a child's entertainment restaurant similar to chucky cheese, albeit replacing pizza for ice cream. He hasn't just gotten excited, but has this childish anticipation for something which isn't even assured.

Spongebob arrives at the opening of the Krusty Krab 2, where he is so excited he can't contain his glee. He breaks the silence and makes members of the crowd uncomfortable, reinforcing again that spongebob is a standout in a world of adults, and a kid who doesn't understand certain social norms, which society looks down upon. When Krabs reveals that Squidward got the managerial position, Spongebob hyped himself so much that he starts celebrating, not even noticing that he wasn't picked. He gets on stage, and begins to give a speech, to which Krabs interrupts.

The next part I think best illustrates Spongebob's clear ignorance to society: Krabs attempts to subtly tell spongebob that he isn't getting the job, but spongebob repeats everything he says into the microphone. Again, fantastic joke, grade A, but the amount this shows how invested spongebob was. He already saw himself as an adult, someone who everyone would look up to as a manager- he could take the responsibility, and isn't aware of everyone likely cringing in the audience. This is the natural step for him in his mind, especially because of his exemplary work which had been previously celebrated through employee of the month awards. This was not an option for him. There wasn't a world in his mind where he would be outclassed by squidward.

Krabs has to break to him that he lacks responsibility, and that his childishness makes it difficult for Krabs to give him such a job. This might seem harsh, but I think the intro again shows how Spongebob saw the job; he didn't understand what it would be like, fantasizing another level in the menial work structure to be an amazing adventure of a job. People in the crowd reaffirm that in the eyes of society, spongebob is just a kid, a goofball. In my eyes, this is a story not just of childhood, but of neurodivergence. Spongebob isn't normal, and is blocked by society for his ignorance of social norms and sunny disposition. He finds things fun that other people can not, and he places values in completely different things. So he is blocked from the meaningful recognition he desired, despite the obvious evidence of his commitment.

I think this is a mighty interesting dichotomy!!! Simultaneously, spongebob's understanding of the world truly is warped, often resulting in a lack of consideration for others as well as harm for himself when things don't go his way, AND he is a good worker which puts in MANY hours of work without so much of a complaint. This is COMPLEX. You have to ask yourself, as a viewer, "would I give spongebob the job?" The answer can be different and can be REASONED.

And that's JUST spongebob! There are other characters with characterization that mixes into the themes of the movie very well, but I'm going to bring up any related points in future sections.

Okay, Okay. So now you're saying "WOW OKAY GREAT so why does any of this matter?" I'm so glad you asked. VERY glad.

2: THE BREAKING OF A YOUNG MAN'S SPIRIT

THIS is the point of the movie. The obstacle in this movie truly isn't adulthood, but instead self doubt. Spongebob's whole world is turned upside down by Krab's rejection of his basic personality. Spongebob asks himself: is it REALLY okay to be who I am? Am I an adult? Is the world fair? One of the most shocking scenes in the movie is blended so well in tone with the rest that you don't really notice; spongebob eating ice cream to cope with his disappointment, akin to that of adults drinking alcohol, and appearing to be visually "drunk" and washed up. This is BRILLIANT, and a recurring theme, where the true line between adult and childhood becomes blurry and impossible to see. Spongebob, the representation of a kid, gets hungover, spiteful, and angry about the injustice of his situation. This is often how adults act in the fact of adversity, but what's funny is that this too is how a kid would act; getting angry and overindulging, feeling entitled and acting socially immature when he didn't get what he wanted. He walks in to the Krusty Krab literally just to shit talk Krabs. And it doesn't stop there.

Pictured: Plankton finding "Plan Z" and looking at it like a centerfold in a playboy magazine

Almost every character in this movie juxtaposes another, again smearing the line of what it means to be an adult. For example, Spongebob and Plankton are polar opposites; plankton is cold and vengeful, angry at the world around him, and spongebob is a happy person who tends not to take things personally, a friend to all. In planktons first appearances in the movie, he is portrayed with clear adult themes, mocking spongebob, making pinup jokes about plan z, and living in a fairly dark and grey space. But, as the story moves along, we see many similarities; both spongebob and plankton are fairly one track minded, and when spongebob's perception is broken he himself gets a little vengeful. When eugene is put in danger over this, though, we do see that he places the lives of others over his own wants. And, even at the end of the movie, we see their similarities. Plankton reuses the "Sorry Calendar" joke that spongebob used at the start of the movie, drawing another line of what it means to be an adult. Is it childish of plankton to say that? Is the inherent irony he has impactful here? His want for something that isn't his, and his disregard for others in pursuing it feels just like how a younger child may steal the toy of another, without understanding what it means to share.

Pictured: Neptune flipping his shit at his lost crown

Then, there's the character of Neptune. Neptune is a big man baby. He rules the entire land, commands the most respect, and is considered the most powerful person under the sea, and yet, we see that he gets overprotective of his property, prepared to execute anyone who even annoys him. Throughout the film, he's obsessed with chasing an image of youth, as he is bald, and ignores the suffering of the people on bikini bottom to make sure no one sees his bald head. He throws what's equivalent to a tantrum when he finds his crown is missing, and believes a very crude note written by plankton saying that it was eugene who stole it. His character is an "acceptable" child because he's in a position of power, where spongebob is an "unacceptable" child as he is just a working class member of society. And the funniest part is, that he mocks spongebob for wanting to go for the crown, when even he, the strongest person in bikini bottom, refuses to go out of fear.

We see that these "bastions" of adulthood, plankton and neptune, are the ones who are responsible for missteps of society; we're ALL children in the long run, but the strict enforcement of a perceived true adulthood creates a space where they can act immaturely yet those under them/around them cannot. Dennis makes this case even more, as the only thing he does in this movie is hurt others. There's only one thing that seems to truly denote adulthood, and it's cruelty.

Even squidward, the adult that is supposed to be more responsible that spongebob, refuses to go on the quest to retrieve the crown, as he acts mostly in self interest, even later claiming to only care that plankton was stealing the secret formula as it was hurting his own paycheck.

Spongebob is the only one willing to go, willing to defend the man who wronged him, willing to value life over his own interests. He is both child and adult, just as the adults are too children.

As he moves through the plot of this film, he becomes less confident in his disposition, with his naivete causing moments like him and patrick crossing the state line and immediately getting carjacked, or them being put into an uncomfortable situation by all the bubbles they blew when they tried to get their car back. His bright personality is questioned constantly: Only five days to shell city? BY CAR. This is man's country. But weren't we the double bubble blowing babies?

Pictured: Spongebob caught trying to take back the key to the patty wagon when patrick fails to distract everyone

This is made more obvious to him as patrick remains oblivious throughout; patrick is a mirror for him, that acts as a childhood constant, that makes it clearer for him every day the draws of his childishness. There's the moment in the club where patrick's distraction was poorly thought out, and only because he said he wanted to do it adamantly, there's the moment where patrick challenged neptune on how many days they would have to do it, which served no purpose but for his own fun, there's the moment patrick points out the free ice cream trap- he is the unemployed uncritical lens that spongebob is afraid he is.

So everything's fucked, and anyone who is childish is bad i guess!!!

But that isn't so,

3: The illusion of manhood

So we've talked about spongebob's characterization as a naive child, how this is impactful in his transformation into someone who is anxious about that aspect of his personality, and how the society around him is hypocritical in it's own immaturity. But where does this all come together?

Pictured: Planktons dystopian world, which Mindy shows Spongebob and Patrick

It's at spongebob and patricks "conversion to manhood". At his lowest point, spongebob becomes a squidward- he becomes critical of his AND patricks interests, and regards them as childish, deciding that this means that they can't make it to shell city, as it requires them to be adults. When mindy shows them the dire situation back home, she hopes that spongebob's sunny personality and care for others would shine through, but instead he turns to what society has been telling him; it's impossible. He can't do it, he's just a little kid, and there is no point to any of this as he'll fail regardless.

Thinking about it like this, it truly is one of the darkest points in the entire series; spongebob just openly admitted that there was nothing he could do, that all of his friends were goners because he was effectively useless.

Mindy comes up with an idea; she'll trick spongebob and patrick into believing they're men; she convinces them of mermaid magic (their innocence allowing them to believe) and uses kelp to make them think they've matured into adults. Notice that physical modifiers being the only key to this "fake adulthood". With this, they jump off a cliff because they believe that with adulthood, they are invincible.

This is really telling about how the society they're in thinks of being an adult, and relays that to children. There's another level, a distinct separation between spongebob and adulthood, which seemed like the difference between a squire and a knight- being an adult means that you aren't weak anymore (as though he was weak in the first place), and thus you can do things you never thought before. Is it truly healthy that this is how a society tells kids that adulthood is like, for them to enter the world and feel a truly awful financial and literal hellscape waiting for them? uh, you can, you can decide that for yourself i think.

Nonetheless, they survive the fall, and conclude that they really are invincible, able to power through a ravine with their happy go lucky attitude, eventually befriending the monsters which were once trying to kill them. They weren't acting like adults, but the labels themselves made it possible for them to soldier on with the childlike disposition they had. I find that to be powerful. If we were able to be more hopeful as adults, and power through the worst things brightly, could we do great things? Idk but these depression meds sure do taste good nom nom

After crossing the ravine, spongebob and patrick meet dennis, and have their worldview crushed as it's revealed that they are actually still kids. Dennis being the "alpha male" that he is, is characterized by violence and a lack of morality. The pair are saved by a giant boot, which is the first of two humans in this movie. Spongebob and patrick are both taken by the man in the diver suit, as we fade to black, marking the end of their illusion of adulthood.

4: Back from the Edge (of death)

Spongebob and Patrick awaken in an antique shop, realizing that they were surrounded by fish that had been killed specifically for sale as tacky antiques. They are lifted out of their fishbowl, and put under a heatlamp, as their fate is sealed to become a member among those dead fish. In spongebob's final moments, he mourns his inability to be an adult, as well as to reach shell city; but before they both die, patrick points out that they truly did reach shell city, as the crown was within their reach.

This. This is a phenomenal scene. Why? Because of what it means for spongebob's arc.

Pictured: Spongebob and Patrick on their deathbeds, finding happiness

He sees the crown, and realizes that, unequivocally, that even if he didn't bring the crown back, he made it to shell city. Every person he met told him that he couldn't even do that. and he did it. He is a kid, yes, but he's a kid who went where not even NEPTUNE dared go. Everything people said about him, about how him being a kid stopped him from success, was suddenly shattered. He has been asking himself if it's okay that he is a kid, and he saw, unambiguously, that it is. He is allowed to be happy. He can enjoy things that other people don't. He can be naive. He can be himself, no matter what anyone says. And so can you. Great things can be done by people who are "childish", who are "naive", who are kind without expecting a return, all of it. YOU are okay. Your stims are okay, your comfort series are okay, your interest in tropes are okay, YOU'RE OKAY!!!!

with that, spongebob and patrick are dehydrated on the table, and ostensibly die, the kids that they are, shedding one final tear each, forming a heart beneath them.

...

Miraculously, the tear electrocutes that lamp at it's socket, causing smoke to rise and set off the sprinklers, rehydrating the pair, and bringing them back to life. The "Man in the Suit" attempts to capture them, seeing them about to lift Neptune's crown, but the rest of the dehydrated fish come back to life- squirting him with his own glue and beating him to the ground, as spongebob and patrick run out with the crown. David Hasselhoff offers them a ride back to Bikini Bottom, and the pair begin their ride back.

5: The confrontation of Adulthood and Childhood

Pictured: Dennis looking all lame and shit

As spongebob and patrick are being swam back to bikini bottom, the boot under which dennis was crushed rockets to Hasselhoff, spitting him back out to finish the job. The appearance of Dennis, IN MY OPINION, makes him look rather goofy, with his broken glasses making him look more like a office worker than a badass assassin as he attempts to kill spongebob and patrick. Spongebob, in trying to reason with him, is able to ruin his eyes with bubbles, and then survives as dennis gets hit by a raised platform which spongebob and patrick are too low to be hit by.

Having defeated one representation of adulthood, spongebob and patrick are shot down by HasselHoffs MASSIVE MAN TITS with the crown in order to prevent Krab's fate, blocking Neptune's lazer just in time as they crash in.

All seems to be well, but plankton uses one of his mind control helmets (which we'll be getting into later) to enslave even Neptune, putting mindy, spongebob, patrick, and Krabs against the wall.

In another stark moment of characterization, Spongebob tells patrick that "Plankton Cheated", which prompts plankton to tell spongebob that the situation wasn't a kiddy game, and that it was the real world. This sort of distinctions in their ethos tell you how spongebob interacts with justice; he believes in "playing fair", while plankton is bitter and believes in getting what he wants.

Finally, the apex to our plot, is a musical number. Spongebob begins to make a long-winded speech, where he takes ownership of every label he was called as he stood on the stage at the beginning, the similarity between the two events being clear (holding a microphone at an inappropriate time, making a speech as he blocks out input from an adult trying to talk him down). Spongebob then busts out into the film's rendition of Twisted Sister's "I Wanna Rock", "I'm a Goofy Goober". This results in spongebob reversing plankton's whole plot with "the power of rock and roll". Plankton is made powerless, and thrown into a little padded cell.

The final scene in the movie has Mr. Krabs freed from his imprisonment in ice, and spongebob is offered squidwards position as manager of the second Krusty Krab. He seems hesitant, and squidward offers an insightful analysis of what spongebob might be feeling (the typical analysis of a coming of age movie, where the protagonist finds out that what they wanted all along is not what they wanted, but it was what was inside all along). Spongebob refutes that squidwards fly was just down, and GLADLY accepts the job.

AND THAT'S THE MOVIE

6: AN INVERSION ON THE COMING OF AGE GENRE

A coming of age story tends to be one which is focus on the growth of a character from childhood to adulthood, asking questions about what it means to be an adult. A character reaches for their perceived adulthood, and realizes what it means to ACTUALLY be an adult, typically juxtaposing what people think (drugs, parties, sex) versus what the movie postures as the correct adulthood (responsibility). In this, I think that the spongebob movie directly criticizes the position of what "an adult" is, in the sense of how someone acts.

Like we discussed in part 2, every adult character in this movie tends to be very childish in themselves, unable to see through simple ruses, and often very possessive of personal property. I don't think we actually see a child in this movie as a speaker at any point, only really as background characters (in goofy goobers to solidify spongebob as childish, and I believe in the chum bucket as they're lead to an unsafe place by their parents, who are supposed to be responsible). Thus, what is mostly examined is how adulthood and childhood is a very thin line. Squidward, for example, going directly to plankton to accuse him of stealing the formula, instead of taking it to the top immediately, which would have ended this whole thing fairly quickly; that was rather silly, and was the fruit of his need to assert himself as an adult.

Spongebob goes through this movie FIRST not caring much about whether or not he was an adult, and it is only after the social pressure from adults does he start to chase it. He then chases his perceived image of an adult, going on an adventure, and is crushed by the fact that he isn't an adult. Instead of finding what an adult is, he instead becomes comfortable with his existence as a child, finding himself at the end of the movie able to comfortably chase after an ideal again, where in a normal movie he would humbly reject the job he was offered.

This is, truly, what we should all take from this film. Spongebob realizes that people who aren't necessarily socially adjusted or acceptable can do great things, regardless of what the people around them say, especially because the people around them are liable to throw tantrums and be actively harmful to society. He is allowed to find comfort in childish things, and to be naive, because the world needs more people willing to help others. It's a scathing criticism on the imposed adulthood that exists in a lot of coming of age films, which begs us to drop fun in the interest of doing the right thing, as though those two ideas are contradictory.

BONUS: EXTRA STUFF THAT I LIKED

The goofy goober song became really good storytelling, at first marking childishness, then marking a level of discomfort and judgement in the club, then marking spongebob recognizing that his happiness came from what he liked and not some vague idea of adulthood, and finally marking his full acceptance of his childishness, taking the form of rock, the music of rebellion. It's not as subtle as leitmotifs, but it works really well in how the same song can give very different feelings throughout, and inform how we interact with a story.

There are a lot more examples of adults being pressured into childishness, with the connected twins who liked goofy goober at the club, who were beaten senseless for absolutely no reason, which highlights the way that the society hurts people that, by all means, are just as much adults as anyone else. There's of course Plankton's helmets which created a society of people who simply slaved away with nothing to say, taking life as it came and listening to authority.

On top of that, this movie is PRETTY ANTICAPITALIST AND ANTIMONARCHY, despite those things being allowed to continue to exist at the end- monarchy is seen misusing power constantly and often for unfounded reasons, and Spongebob's diligence at work is rejected by a penny pinching Krabs, who cares only about money. Like, THE KRUSTY KRABS ARE RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER? THAT IS SOME MONTY PYTHON ASS SHIT. This year is the first year i laughed at that joke, because it's really some "capitalists are fucking dumb as shit" humor that slipped over my head when i was a kid. The villain literally being defeated by Rock and Roll, which was sung with a message against the oppression of differences in people? Yeah, I think the spongebob movie hated rich mother fuckers.

END: UH YEAH THAT'S WHAT IT IS

So yeah. The movie is good I think. There's a lot more i could go into, but I've been writing this post for hours and at this point i haven't even read it so...

I recommend going back and giving this film a rewatch!!! Pay attention to all the moments where adults act like children/kids act like adults, because it'll make ur brain pop like a zit. Anyways that's me, I'm Jericho Jay "Japes" Marshall, and I HATE facism.

[tweetsongs]

For the GIVE ME A CHARACTER, introduce me to our saviour Ayda

babe, u are the only person i love in this world

How I feel about this character: Ayda Augefort is one of those characters who showed up and immediately rocketed her way into my heart. She’s tied for my favorite character in the show, and is definitely my favorite NPC. It’s just…so great to have an explicitly neurodivergent character, especially an autistic character, who’s so caring and warm and such an subversion of stereotypes, while having her autism still be a core part of her character. I just, love that she’s so complicated and so deeply emotional, and trying her best to keep up with all of these new, strange friends that she’s got. Also, she’s ignited a deep desire within me to gift my friends with homemade spells named after them, because what a fucking rockstar idea.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: I think Figayda goes pretty much unspoken lmao, they have such a great dynamic, and watching them both stumbling as they find their ways into understanding each other is really wonderful. I think a lot of times WLW relationships are very soft and instantly domestic and understanding - which is great, if that’s what you enjoy! - but I’m really glad to see Fantasy High really dig into the grit of relationships, even with Trackerbees, who seemed to be going down that route at the end of season 1/beginning of season 2. I love that Fig and Ayda obviously adore each other, but it’s very much clumsy and imperfect and hindered by their views of the world. When Ayda said that she loved finding out she was wrong about something so that she could discover its true nature- that was when I knew this ship would become an OTP.I don’t have any other ships for Ayda, really, unless you count my burning love for qpp Ayda/Adaine with lesbian Ayda and ace-aro Adaine.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Again, qpp Ayda/Adaine is. Very good. And if you’ve been reading through my Fantasy High posts for a while you’ll know that I am Very invested in the potential of Riz&Ayda as a friendship. I have a Lot of headcanons about Riz being ADHD, and having two characters with behavioral/developmental disorders stimming together is Very important to me (yes all of my characters have autism or ADHD, why do you ask).Also, Garthy? Can we see Garthy being a parental figure to Ayda please. Her naming Gaf after them is the cutest thing ever and I want to see their reaction upon discovering that.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Hm, I don’t know the fandom enough to have any unpopular opinions, per say, but I do like the idea (that I think a lot of people might not) that this reincarnation is the only cycle where Ayda is with Fig- at least, for a While. So much of Ayda’s story is rooted in breaking out of the constraints that her past selves have unknowingly imposed upon her, learning that she can be so much more than who they said she could be, that I like the idea of the things that she has gotten during this lifetime being wholly her own, and her leaving her next life’s legacy up to her next self. I think she might waver in the end, wanting to leave a note for her next self to meet Fig, please, I don’t think there is a me that would not fall in love with her, if I knew her, but Fig convinces her to take that part out, to leave what her next self’s relationship is with Fig up to her next self. There’s tragedy in the idea, sure, but I think that Ayda learning to be kinder to herself every cycle, telling her that she can be whoever she wants to be, is worth it.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: God there’s so much- I want her to see Elmville. I want her to have a conversation with her father. I want to see her writing to her next self, telling her that she can be anything and everything. I want her to meet Gorthalax, and to have a family dinner with Fig and her plethora of parents. I want her, Adaine and Riz to investigate stuff together. I want Ayda Augefort to feel like a kid again, giddy and free, and to go through all the happiness and sadness and stupid decisions that comes with that.

(send me a character!)

[neverreallythoughtaboutthefuture]

I made this video after reading @roguepythia’s emotional and very heartfelt response to having watched “Pacific Rim Uprising” for the first time, hoping to cheer her up a bit, by gently reminding her that no matter what people choose to take away from the original, or what they do with the characters, it can never take anything away from what was, and very much still is.

Yes, I will never quite forgive them for how they chose to “continue” the original characters’ stories, either. Mako, most of all, but also Newton.   He’s probably not the worst offense, all things considered, because there could eventually be a way out of it (assuming they make a 3rd one).  But I know a lot of neurodivergent people who strongly identified with him (while, as an adult with ADHD, oddly enough the one whose behavior reminded me the most of my own was Raleigh), and Guillermo Del Toro himself had told the actor that, since his character left such a profound emotional impact on the fandom, he was dropping the idea of what they finally went with (trying to avoid spoilers is so hard!  Lol!). Also, they removed any mention of Raleigh that could have given fans some sense of closure (especially in relation to Mako) in the very off-chance that a) there’s a 3rd one and b) Charlie Hunnam will still be interested / available. It almost felt like they included original characters from the first movie simply to ensure a sense of continuity, while not being interested in who they are, nor what they represented and symbolized in that universe, and for people in the fandom. Still, I remain confident that it won’t prevent people who deeply connected with Guillermo Del Toro’s original movie from fully enjoying, appreciating, and loving what, to me, will forever remain a masterpiece, and up until this day the greatest movie of all time! This fanvid is thus dedicated to those of you who fell in love with a young boy – his loss carved deep into his skin – who, when faced with the strength, resourcefulness, and potential of another human being, chose to value her goals and dreams, use his pain to help her overcome her own, and in doing so allowed her to help him heal and save himself.

A young girl with kaiju-stained hair, carrying her little red shoe in her hands – filled with the powerful drive to fight back against the monsters that tried to take her heart from her – who, when faced with someone who’d lost his own will to fight and believe in himself, allowed him to connect with her own, share her goals, become responsible for her (as the more experienced co-pilot), and readily accepted and valued his support and guidance, while accompanying each other on their respective and shared journeys.

 A young woman who – by being willing to rely on him the same way he used to rely on his big brother to guide him – ended up putting that young man in a position of having to make the conscious choice of sacrificing his own chances of survival to keep the one he’d chosen to become responsible for safe.  

Yancy didn’t die because Raleigh failed to save him.  And even if there had been time for him to decide which one of them would live or die, chances are that, had his little brother’s fate been in his hands, Yancy would still have chosen to keep Raleigh safe.

“Anyone can fall.” Bad things happen to good people. Life is unfair, and rarely is it about what one does or doesn’t deserve.

Things are simply what they are, you do the best you can do with the resources and the opportunities you have, ideally while trying to find some balance between your needs, skills, objectives, and those of the other people around you.

To me, this quote was at the very core of the message I took from the movie.  

Beyond Mako and Raleigh’s own stories, I also fell in love with all the parallels that could be drawn between Raleigh and Chuck, Mako and Chuck (who, in many ways, possessed many of both Raleigh and Mako’s character traits and issues, but was paired with a father that didn’t know how to properly help his son address and manage them), Herc and Stacker, Newton and Hermann, Raleigh and Newton, etc.

And yes, through it all, we were offered scenes that were splendidly filmed (I could watch the rain fall on Mako’s umbrella, just before she adjusts it to reveal herself to the audience for the first time while Stacker and Raleigh’s helicopter is landing all day!), treated to one of the most amazing movie theme and score I’ve ever heard…

Not to mention the absolute joy of watching those giant robots facing off with giant monsters! But those were the icing on the cake rather than the core of the movie to me. 

End of the day, it’s not the Jaegers that had me in awe, and turned “Pacific Rim” into my favorite movie of all time…  It was the Drift between co-pilots, and the way emotional empathy and trust between a group of people and misfits with various backgrounds, cultures, stories, traumas and issues was shown to be the most effective way for humanity to vanquish its monsters.

It was how the movie ended up with a “main lead” in a very strong supportive role, that merely contributes to the success of the mission by choosing to get involved with the skills and resources he has, rather than being the big hero of the story with something unique that couldn’t have been done by anyone else but him.

It was how the whole movie was presented as this great human mosaic with flawed and complex characters that people could easily related to – heroes of the story rather than hero of the story – in a world filled with heart and symbolism.

And sadly, after watching “Pacific Rim Uprising”, where suddenly a bunch of cadets are randomly thrown into Jaegers without us ever having been given a chance to learn more about them (ex: what motivated them to join the post-war efforts with the PPDC…  What connects them to their given co-pilot(s)?  How do they relate to each other?)…

I found myself echoing Hannibal Chau after the credits, and wondering: “Where is my goddamn (little red) shoe?”

I am now very much in the process of coming to terms with the fact that, what made me hopelessly fall in love with Guillermo Del Toro’s movie in the first place apparently wasn’t what the people that were ultimately put in charge of the sequel perceived as being the most important for it to succeed (and doing videos as a coping mechanism).

Is it to say “Pacific Rim Uprising” is a terrible movie?  Perhaps not.  Perhaps if it had been my first introduction to that universe, and I didn’t know any of the previous characters and the Drift, I would have enjoyed it the same way I enjoyed watching “Jason X”, or “Piranha 3D”!

But I made the mistake of falling in love with an Australian father and son duo, that have such trouble showing each other affection outside of the Drift that, all the love they can’t directly express each other, they express towards their dog.

It’s all those little details that made the first movie so fascinating and more and more exciting to watch with each renewed viewing! Sadly, I’m reasonably sure I wasn’t the type of audience the sequel had in mind. 

Hence why I can’t say that “Pacific Rim Uprising” is “bad” for what it aimed to be this time around.   Nor do I wish to imply that “Pacific Rim” can’t be enjoyed as mindless “big robots v.s. monsters” entertainment, too. 

Or, you know, anywhere in the spectrum between “dumb fun” and “deserves an Oscar”.

I don’t think there’s ever a right or wrong way to enjoy a movie. 

Just that the way I personally enjoyed this one didn’t seem to carry on in the sequel at all.

It is what it is. Anyone can fall.  Or rise, depending on what you like.

Yes, I am disappointed that I couldn’t find my little red shoe in the new installment.

But, on the plus side, it has inspired me to reconnect even more strongly with the original, revisit some of my writings, feelings, and thoughts about those characters, etc.

All things considered, I’m definitely good with that!

[okiedokievariantloki]

Honestly, I didn’t see it like that. I saw it exactly the same way that I performed Normal Me when I was going through heavy shit. People wanted to see a specific version of me- one that they were used to, so I gave that to them because that was what they wanted. I too grew up in a home where I was not the favored son, where my accomplishments were (and still are) constantly ignored or downplayed. My other sibling is even worse off and was basically scapegoated for a bunch of stuff that wasn’t even their fault.

I often even believed I was adopted because I don’t look a lot like my parents, and my neurodivergence makes me very different and unable to truly understand others the way that the neurotypicals tend to.

I’m still privileged in many ways. I have been given opportunities that others can only dream of. And the abuse I suffered isn’t nearly as “bad” as others that I know. I know that I’ve done wrong before, both accidental and on purpose in a fit of jealousy or anger.

But the fact of the matter is that if I was thrown into a situation like the TVA (and there are some analogous experiences I could reference), it wouldn’t matter how traumatized I was. I wouldn’t share all of my trauma with one person. Maybe little drips here and there, told lightly like a funny story, or spoken in a raw way to hurt myself preemptively before that power was taken from me by another’s cruel words about my appearance or mannerisms.

But the truth is this. Anyone who wants to survive isn’t going to let those around them see their vulnerable core, not even if they become friends or lovers or allies.

Because at its core, trauma tells you that you deserve pain and suffering because you are at fault and bad and terrible and if anyone really knew and it stops being fun to be around you they’d run in the opposite direction.

I think that a lot of Loki fans think that the show was going to be some angst/comfort healing power fantasy, but that’s just not honestly going to work in the context of the MCU and what we have seen of it to date. But as someone with trauma who has gone through a similar kind of chaotic adventure, it takes a long time to really allow yourself to trust anyone deeply, and there’s plenty of personas that you put up in the meantime.

But maybe I’m just reading too much of my own lived experiences into it and someone will respond to this telling me I am stupid and bad and wrong because it didn’t speak to them. But that’s the point. If it didn’t speak to you, that doesn’t make you invalid. I just wish more people didn’t develop unhealthy pseudosocial connections with actors and fictional characters to the point of being traumatized by proxy whenever they don’t see their personal narratives and headcanons played out in official media.

I want to give my perspective on the “was Loki tortured by Thanos or not” debate in regards to the series addressing it. The reason I’m thinking about this so much right now is because of a specific post and the various comments on it, but obviously there have been lot of people talking about this subject in general from both sides. I debated reblogging the post itself but in the end just decided to make my own - I wasn’t even going to say anything initially, but I’ve been thinking about this way too much today and I just need to put my thoughts out there.  

You know I’m actually willing to grant that, in terms of what’s 100% canon, Loki might not have been tortured by Thanos to the extent many of us theorize (there’s a lot of evidence for those theories, and those are still my theories too, but I acknowledge that it technically hasn’t been confirmed by canon). However, something we know for certain is that he went through absolute hell in between Thor and Avengers - this was confirmed by Tom as the backstory he and Joss discussed. Tom likened Loki’s experience to being “kidnapped by a terrorist cell or something” and having to “survive a very, very frightening and precarious existence.” Technically, yes, “Loki was tortured by Thanos” is a definitive and quite specific statement that hasn’t been explicitly confirmed by canon. But we do know his experience with Thanos - whatever the exact details - was traumatizing. Tom’s full quotes indicate that they didn’t decide exactly what happened to Loki, just that it was very, very bad - so even if Thanos wasn’t the one to do the bulk of the traumatizing (though he’s at least responsible for some of it), someone(s) else in the universe was.

Anyway, regardless of whether Thanos directly tortured Loki, there are a number of other things we know about 2012 Loki: there was some degree of coercion (even if you theorize that it was Loki’s idea to make a deal with Thanos initially), Loki’s decisions were affected by some level of mind stone influence, we saw The Other physically harming Loki onscreen, and “he will make you long for something sweet as pain” is a horrifying threat (plus, the Other saying “you think you know pain” right before that is a pretty fucking strong implication that they put him through Something Bad - or even if they didn’t, somebody else did). So like I said - even if we don’t know for sure that he was tortured by Thanos, we do know Loki wasn’t exactly being treated well, and that the experience was very traumatizing in some way. 

The point I’m trying to make here is that - and this feels weird to write - for the purposes of this specific fandom argument it almost doesn’t matter if Loki was tortured by Thanos or not, because what we do know canonically about his lost year (and what we saw onscreen in Avengers) is still enough to make it a problem that the show is ignoring it. In a way, it’s almost like we’re getting too hung up on the word “torture”? I’m starting to feel like it kind of distracts from the main issue, which is this: Regardless of the details, that whole period of time between Thor and Avengers was a truly hellish experience for Loki, his time with Thanos was traumatizing in some unspecified way, and despite the fact that this all happened to Loki very recently, the show is ignoring all of it. For me, that’s the core problem here. Traumatic things canonically happened offscreen to Loki pre-Avengers that changed him from the person he was at the end of Thor (Tom talked about this constantly in Avengers interviews), Thanos was involved in that trauma in some capacity, and the show has not done anything to address it. And people are understandably upset about that.

[theconservativebrief]

As a deeply jaded Harry Potter fan, I sometimes have to make a conscious effort to focus on the positives. So I think it’s worth noting that I didn’t have to try too hard to find some positives to focus on in Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald.

The second installment in the Harry Potter prequel series is now in theaters, and with it, author J.K. Rowling, who writes the screenplays, has introduced a host of serious wrinkles in her own established universe. The plot is confusing, disjointed, and seemingly devoted to setting up a convoluted storyline that will play out in future installments.

Watching the film feels a bit like being dropped into the middle of a very thick novel that’s full of words whose meanings you don’t know. And this holds true no matter your level of Harry Potter fandom; Rowling does a ton of worldbuilding on the fly, and expects viewers to roll with it and figure things out as they go. That’s difficult to do, and it makes The Grimes of Grindelwald hard to review, because it’s so obviously laying the foundation for some future film.

But even given all of that, there are things to like about it; and the things to like are, I think, pretty interesting things!

The Crimes of Grindelwald picks up where the first Fantastic Beasts film left off: with the dark wizard Grindelwald (the controversial Johnny Depp) sitting in jail after infiltrating the American magical congress. (Why he wanted to infiltrate it in the first place wasn’t ever fully explained, but it clearly involved being generically evil.)

In the opening moments of the new film, Grindelwald dramatically escapes prison, leaving Professor Dumbledore — an inexplicably de-camped Jude Law — to decide how to respond. Dumbledore, who was canonically in love with Grindelwald as a teen and may have once been in a relationship with him, is either unwilling or unable to fight him now, in adulthood, so he sends our hero Newt Scamander (Eddie Redmayne) to battle Grindelwald in his stead. This involves finding the one person who can effectively fight him: Credence (Ezra Miller), who we encountered in the first Fantastic Beasts film as a frightened orphan, confused about his identity and unaware of his own tremendous magical abilities.

The Crimes of Grindelwald then follows Newt as he attempts to locate Credence in Paris. It also follows Grindelwald as he attempts to locate Credence, and as he launches what must be the most hastily assembled and disturbingly muffled political allegory ever thrown together by a writer capable of much greater nuance than this. The driving force of The Crimes of Grindelwald’s plot — though it’s difficult to refrain from putting sarcasm quotes around “plot” — is for Newt to find Credence before Grindelwald can, because the implication is that whoever gets to Credence first will have the best chance at deploying his magic as a weapon for their side. (More on what those sides are fighting for in a moment.)

Along the way, the movie gets sidetracked by a tangled web of subplots. Characters keep tossing around fragments of prophecies whose origins are never properly contextualized and whose predictions are never fully explained. There are baby-killings, cases of mistaken identity, mysterious characters with mysterious backgrounds, dramatic flashbacks, and several different moments that disrupt the established canonical timeline of the Harry Potter universe in ways that are sure to break the brains of Harry Potter fans across the internet. There’s even a giant Chinese fire-dragon cat-thing that needs to be dealt with. (It’s cute!)

But none of these subplots further the narrative beyond providing an occasional dramatic reveal that ultimately goes nowhere. Characters show up, deliver backstory and dramatic revelations, and then, more often than not, die. The effect is basically that watching the The Crimes of Grindelwald feels like staring at that spinning top from Inception for two hours straight before eventually realizing it’s never going to fall over, because it doesn’t have enough mass to upset its inertia. There’s just no story, no substance . And what little substance there is essentially forms dramatic exposition for the next Fantastic Beasts movie.

It’s especially unfortunate that this wheel-spinning for the sake of expository setup was one of the chief complaints of critics who reviewed the previous Fantastic Beasts film. But the previous film had so much more actual plot than this one that by comparison, The Crimes of Grindelwald feels extra-flimsy and empty. At least in the previous film, there was a set of clearly achievable objectives involving the rounding-up of a bunch of fantastic beasts!

But. But! Do we watch Harry Potter movies for the plot, or do we watch Harry Potter movies for the wizarding world? Because The Crimes of Grindelwald contributes beauty and a solid sense of setting and depth to the Harry Potter universe, and it deserves credit for that.

One of the things I continue to admire and love most about the Harry Potter film franchise in its latter-day installments is how director David Yates, who has helmed all of the movies since the fifth one in the main franchise, remains fully committed to J.K. Rowling’s vision, no matter how obscure it might get. And let’s be real, Fantastic Beasts is a totally new franchise arc that’s headed who-knows-where, and Rowling’s vision is deeply obscured in The Crimes of Grindelwald.

Yet Yates, with the trademark mix of sensitivity, detail, and emphasis on sumptuous worldbuilding that he’s deployed in each of the six Harry Potter films he’s directed so far, manages to make things work on his end. The Gilded Age wizarding world, Art Deco with a splash of steampunk, moves from vintage New York to London and Paris over the course of the film, and it looks as lovely and inviting as ever.

While the magical elements can feel a bit paint-by-numbers at times, it’s clear that Yates, Rowling, and longtime Harry Potter screenwriter-turned-producer Steve Kloves are still thinking deeply about how to keep the details of this world feeling unique and magical. And I think, for the most part, they do feel magical; that is, they feel like a world I enjoy spending time in, even when I’m exasperated by the lack of story.

It helps that Fantastic Beasts’ characters are, for the most part, characters I enjoy watching. It’s hard to overstate just how unique Redmayne’s Newt Scamander is within the annals of fictional heroes. Not only is he plainly and unremarkably neurodivergent, but he subverts typical onscreen representations of masculinity in refreshing and unexpected ways. Rowling seems to have written him by consciously sidestepping the tropes of toxic masculinity, and the result is that Newt, however overshadowed he is by plot dramatics, always feels like the answer to the questions she’s trying to ask about violence and propaganda and side-taking.

Unfortunately, those questions aren’t very well-posed. Grindelwald’s dark wizardry is a tangled mishmash of World War I-era fashion, militant Fascism disguised as leftist rhetoric, and concern-trolling about Nazis and World War II, designed to appeal to pureblood wizards of all races, including at least one character who’s coded Jewish. What Grindelwald’s actual politics are beyond wanting Muggle genocide is anyone’s guess, but given that this film is arriving during one of the most politically confusing and polarized eras in recent history, it’s mildly worrying that Grindelwald’s actual message is as vague and “insert-your-own-ideology” as possible.

And then there’s Grindelwald himself. The sheer number of characters in The Crimes of Grindelwald means we spend less time with Newt and his core group of friends than before, but we arguably spend the most time with Grindelwald. And though Johnny Depp’s performance is notably subdued (for Depp, at least), Grindelwald still feels like the series’ flamboyant gay villain (a stereotype that’s exacerbated further due to how toned-down and butch Dumbledore has become) — he’s always standing a little too close to his potential allies, always tacitly seducing them into joining him on the dark side, always being framed by the film as representing something irresistible and innately evil.

It’s weird and uncomfortable to watch, and I wish I felt like more of that weirdness and discomfort is because Grindelwald is a Nazi and not because he’s queer. (All of this potential association of Grindelwald’s evilness with his queerness is built into the narrative of the Harry Potter books, but given that so far, there are only two known queer characters in the entire wizarding universe, and given that one of them is an evil genocidal Aryan and the other one is in love with the evil genocidal Aryan, we can be forgiven for feeling a little queasy about how things are playing out.)

But commenting too critically on The Crimes of Grindelwald could, at this point, amount to unfair speculation. Rowling is clearly in the middle of juggling eight or nine plot points at once, as she loves to do, and it seems somewhat futile to do anything more than stand back and let her at it, until we finally have a coherent 10-hour film that we can judge as a whole. What we clearly don’t have in The Crimes of Grindelwald is a movie; instead, we have a heavily fragmented, not terribly coherent piece of something larger.

Whether that other, larger thing eventually coalesces into the sparkling magical story we came for, or whether it disapparates into oblivion, remains to be seen. But for Harry Potter fans who’ve put their trust in J.K. Rowling for all this time, the best thing I can say about The Crimes of Grindelwald is probably this: It won’t make you want to put your wand away any time soon.

Original Source -> Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald feels like a giant prologue for some other movie

via The Conservative Brief