Sunday, June 19, 2016
Whether or not Pixar suspected the sort of cultural collateral they were about to establish with Dory when she crashed into "Finding Nemo" we'll never know, but the little blue tang was always supposed to be a sidekick and comic relief. Her tendency to forget everything she knows in the blink of a fish eye and her propensity for hilarious one liners and endearing catchphrases made her ridiculously lovable. However, in terms of character, Dory is (understandably) a blank slate. Presented in the first twenty minutes of "Finding Nemo," Dory has no ties to the main family of clown-fish Marlin and his erstwhile son, Nemo. None, that is, except those that she establishes as the film progresses. Dory becomes one of the family as she helps Marlin along his Odyssey-like journey to find his fishy son, but her character history is a broad one and stays as such all through the first flick, and that's to the movie's credit, to be fair. Dory is not the lead in "Finding Nemo;" she need not be fleshed out and given a backstory to give her any sort of pathos (which she inexplicably has in spades even without any sort of history to ground her character). While the title "Finding Nemo" is a literal one--Marlin literally goes on a journey to literally find his son--"Finding Dory" takes a different approach. Dory does not need to be literally found; she's not lost in the traditional sense. She has a home and a family, albeit one of her own making, having taken up with Marlin and Nemo in their coral reef home at the end of the first movie. Dory is lost in a more metaphorical sense--she has no concept of who she is or where she came from. Dory's family is lost to her, along with her home and any sort of memories she may have once had about those two life defining things. While Marlin and Nemo provide her with a sense of belonging, all fish (and, really, everyone) need to know from whence they came, otherwise how can we really know who we are as a person? In this sense, "Finding Dory" is actually deeper than "Finding Nemo," though both touch on the same themes of loss and family. While Nemo centers on Marlin letting go of his son and learning to survive when bad things happen to his family, Dory focuses on the identities we build through our experiences with families---families that we define and create with all manner of peoples, be they of blood relation or not. While the adults in the room might get that message more than the little kids in the audience, it's never too early to start teaching said children the importance of communities and accepting those that are different than we are. We're all just fish in the ocean, looking for a place to belong. Disney/Pixar, it's not just about singing princesses anymore.
--I'm going to put likes and dislikes together because there are far more of one (likes) than the other (dislikes) as has probably become apparent with the above general review.
--While the new characters in "Finding Dory" aren't as memorable as the side characters in "Finding Nemo," they are still very enjoyable, if lacking in any sort of shading. Part of this is because of setting. The main action of the film takes place in an aquatic hospital and while that's a very intriguing idea, the film doesn't exactly go to any trouble or length to explain how many of those creatures ended up there. Yes, Destiny is near sighted but she's clearly grown up in the aquarium. Yes, Bailey has "hit his head" and lost his ability to perform echolocation and yes, Hank has lost a tentacle and is traumatized by the thought of the ocean but we don't get any indication as to how these issues surfaced, how they were noticed, and how the animals in question feel about these handicaps outside of sometimes melancholy but fully functional. It's an animated film that centers on three characters predominately, so I wasn't expecting a fleshed out story for each side fish (erm, whale and cephalopod) but it's worth noting that the film series has a tendency to give their side characters a certain trait that is clearly manifested (short term memory loss, nearsightedness, crazy as a loon, missing a limb,) without explaining it further. It's most disquieting in Gerald, a sealion that is drawn with wide, vacant eyes and give no dialogue as if he's mute and dumb and is simply played for laughs. While the movie is all about celebrating the differences in people, this one gave me pause, though I will be forgiving given how adorable Gerald is.
--With that said, if Dory stole the first film, then Hank steals the second. It's nice to know that Dory meets grumpy, cautious, orange sea creatures wherever she goes.
--No scene made me cry harder than the ending of the opening "flashback" when Dory literally runs into a frantic Marlin after swimming the length and breadth of the ocean looking for her family. Yes, it's the actual "Finding Nemo" scene but the major theme of the movie series is perfectly captured here: Dory needs Marlin and much as Marlin needs Dory. Families are built through love and trials as well as blood.
--Lots of callbacks to "Finding Nemo," including the return of several favorite characters like Mr. Ray and Dude Crush, the hippie surfer turtle. I do wish they had Bruce make a special appearance. Inquiring minds need to know if he's still living by his mantra that fish are friends, not food.
--There were a few too many fast paced action sequences of getting one fish (either Dory or Marlin/Nemo) to another place but that's to be expected when you have to fill in some time.
--"Follow me!" "...you're in a cup." "Okay, I'll follow you."
--I have no idea what kind of bird Becky is (though, I suspect loon), but she's fabulous and if there's a third movie, I hope she's there to carry Marlin around in a bucket.
--Seriously, I'd like to have a stuffed Gerald, please and thank you. I'll give him his own rock.
--Baby Dory is the cutest fish to ever exist.
--Sequels have an annoying tendency to take little quirks from the first film and explain them in a way that fits into the larger mythos of a story. Finding Dory does this but doesn't try to make them salient plot points that hint at something larger. For example, in the first film the most famous scene is probably Dory speaking whale while Marlin looks on in horror. That quirk of Dory's is explained in the second film. But instead of it being something that is important to the entire franchise, it's simply because she grew up next to a whale. Props to the writers for not making this multi-lingual ability something mega important but simply a fact of Dory's multicultural life.
--The animated short "Piper" that opened the film is equally cute if a little schmaltzy.
--There is an adorable post-credits scene that is worth sticking around for!
Grab the family, grab the Kleenexes and go back home to the big blue one more time.
Monday, May 16, 2016
The above epigram is from "Strange Case of Jekyll and Hyde" by Robert Louis Stevenson and, if I'm being perfectly fair, the small novella is actually a perfect launching point for the sixth season of our fairy tale show. After all, it is also "Jekyll and Hyde" where "all human beings, as we meet them, are commingled out of good and evil..." is written. Is that not exactly how OUAT has defined all their multi-layered characters in the past few years? The villains are sympathetic and redeemable while the heroes can be selfish, myopic, condescending and, when you least expect it, they snatch a baby from its mother and fill it up with darkness! The point, though, is that darkness and light exist in all the characters, as if they are actually two separate individuals. Of course, they aren't and that's rather important to the Jekyll and Hyde novella. Jekyll and Hyde are not two people; they are different aspects of one person and when you defeat one, you defeat the other. Identity is such that you cannot squash or destroy one aspect of yourself. It's always there, lurking under the surface, be it a kindly angel telling you to behave or a mischievous devil wanting your id to take over. Regina got it right in the first hour when she tells Emma, "I'll never be at peace with myself." Coming to terms with all parts of your identity--be they Evil Queen, Dark One, Mother, Pirate, Hero, Princess, Bandit, Farmer, and/or Knight--is supposed to take work and hardship. It's supposed to be incredibly difficult and to be perfectly blunt, it may never happen. There may always be a war within you. For some, it's easier to give in to one aspect than to put in the effort it takes to lessen the darker tendencies of man. Think about Dr. Jekyll in the novella; he truly struggles with his darker half; it's a psychological thriller about the depravity of man when it's unleashed. So much of these two finales are about the two original villains of OUAT--Rumple and Regina--accepting or fighting with their other identity. Can Rumple be more than the Dark One obsessed with power? Can Regina ever truly be free of the Evil Queen? All of this, naturally, is paralleled with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and what appears to be a rather complicated but modestly respectable relationship (at least, while they are joined together). For Regina, the answer to her problem of the internal identity war is to destroy that one aspect of herself that keeps her up at night. This bothers me quite a bit, if I'm being honest. Regina, more than anyone, has had a pretty decent redemption arc. While the show may not be concerned with justice (ie: caring enough about the victims to allow them any peace), it has made Regina suffer time and time again and had her pay for some (not all) of her crimes. In this regard, Regina's character development has been one of the better stories on the show. It's been a five season long struggle, flitting back and forth between the Evil Queen with the ready-made fire balls and Regina, the lost and lonely little stable girl. The idea that all Regina needs to be really free of her evil self is a magical potion that allows her to kill the Evil Queen persona (literally) isn't really keeping with any of the above themes I've mentioned nor with her character arc thus far. Regina's worked for her redemption; unlike Rumple she didn't need a magical hat-suck to rid herself of the darkness; it was a part of her but controlled, Regina having learned her lessons and fought her instincts anytime they threatened to overtake her (like when Hook magically comes back from the dead but Robin doesn't). This magical serum is a cheat not only because it doesn't keep in line with the original source material (it is actually rather antithetical to it) but because it shortchanges all that Regina has accomplished over the years. Suddenly, she got a magical fix to her problems that really only creates more ills than it solves, undoubtedly, with the Evil Queen coming to play and make mischief inside Storybrooke. Regina might feel free without the Evil Queen persona, but she needs to learn that the Evil Queen is always a part of her, and that she needs that fierce strength and determination but in more moderation than the Evil Queen would like.
There exists, we are told, a Land of Untold Stories, a safe haven where all the lost and forgotten stories can find refugee. First off, does this mean that the people living there are aware that they are story characters? Because why else name your little corner of the world a land of untold stories if you're not aware of your own fictionhood. Do they think/know they are considered fictional in other realms? How does that mess with identity? Think about it--you know that you're considered fictional in other corners of the universe and that your story is unfinished or forgotten. Wouldn't it make you wonder about what your end is? Do you get to decide your own end? Does this new found agency make you non-fiction? See, this is almost smart of the writers (almost because I'm not sure if they intended these very meta questions). In a way, the writers are assuaging any doubt that the show has run out of steam. Nope, they say, look at all these random characters gathered in one realm. We're gonna tell their stories now; maybe we've used up most of the famous Disney-cache but we've still got more tricks up our sleeves! Aren't you just dying to hear all about these untold stories? See; they got me there cause I totally answered "yeah!" I'm actually really intrigued how these stories/characters are unfinished or undeveloped. What happened to them? Are they all part of the forgotten novels left on people's desks, abandoned because the writers couldn't make their plot bunnies work? Are they legends or myths? Are they Western stories or might we hope for other cultures? Are they fairy tales or science fiction (cause so much of the makeup of that world looked pretty Jules Verne meets H.G. Wells). Do they get to decide their own fate or do they need a Savior/Author team-up to finish their stories (which I'd be totally down for since the past season was way too lite in terms of Emma and Henry working together). I wonder if Cthulhu lives in the oceans around the Land of Untold Stories. Right now this land is pretty intangible because it's fresh and new and not even remotely like any fictional universe we've seen before--Wonderland, Neverland, the Underworld, and Arrendale were all familiar through our experiences with their original source material. What isn't so intangible, though, are Jekyll and Hyde; not unexpectedly, Hyde seems better fleshed out and developed and more likely to receive the bulk of the narrative next season. Here's a query: if Hyde brought all the forgotten stories to Storybrooke to get their happy endings, does that make him a hero? Is he writing his own story to cast himself as a hero? Is season six about him helping the Untold Stories complete their stories, even if the heroes are trying to stop his wicked ways? I know I'm asking a lot of questions, but that's how season finales are designed--to entice you into watching next season. Well, I'm a sucker because I'm here to stay. See everyone in September!
--"When you're upset, we follow you to Hell!" Regina slayed so much of this episode, especially her anger toward the unfair resurrection of Hook while Robin remains 6 feet under.
--How did all those OUAT book get into the library? That's actually a fascinating idea and I hope we explore that next year.
--Really Henry? Operation Mixtape?
--Regina doesn’t say goodbye to Roland. Mmkay. But Zelena, who raped Roland’s father and who pretended to be his mother, gets to. I repeat…Mmmkay.
--Neal, the guy with no unfinished business, had an unfinished quest to destroy magic and kept it all in a journal. And never mentioned it. Ever. Mmkay.
--“To be clear, I was fine running”
--Really great to see the Dragon again; continuity many years after the fact.
--Using the power of a wish to bring your family back invokes a certain Disney song: “When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are, anything your heart desires can come to you….” That’s powerful. It’s one of the most powerful messages in the Disney-verse. I actually kinda teared up a bit thinking about this. Along with this, Henry encouraging everyone to believe using the idea of nostalgia, the idea that when we were younger and less jaded we were capable of belief the likes of which can change the rules of the world. Isn’t that what drew so many of us to OUAT in the first place? That nostalgia for our childhood stories, for a time when we believed in the possibility of magic and hope and happy endings? I don’t get sentimental about this show a lot (not anymore) but that’s powerful stuff.
--Violet’s dad is a Yankee from Connecticut who found himself in Camelot. That’s hilarious.
--Henry destroyed magic in 5 seconds flat. Like he literally held up a cup for five-ten seconds and POOF. ALL of magic is gone. LOL Okay. (Also, Ghostbusters much?)
Final Rating for S5B: B
Final Episode Ranking for S5B
12. Last Rites (5x21)
11. The Brothers Jones (5x15)
10. Ruby Slippers (5x18)
9. Labor of Love (5x13)
8. Firebird (5x20)
7. Souls of the Departed (5x12)
6. Her Handsome Hero (5x17)
5. Only You (5x22)
4. Devil's Due (5x14)
3. An Untold Story (5x23)
2. Sisters (5x19)
1. Our Decay (5x16)
Monday, May 9, 2016
Can you put definitive value on a life? Or, maybe more accurately, can you put different values on different lives? Does person A matter more than person B? If your answer to this last question is yes, then it begs the next series of queries of who gets to decide such matters and what rubric they use to determine which life, which soul, matters more to the universe. Whether or not the writers this week consciously sat down and decided which life had more value, and how to determine such an astronomical feat, I don't know; though, I err on the side of caution and say that the writers probably did no such thing. But when you kill one character and raise another from the dead, all in the span of ten minutes, you are telling your audience one thing: the character that lives matters more. Either they have something worthwhile to contribute to the story and universe at large or they simply mean more to those loved ones they left behind; but, in short, their continued life means more. Let's finally add some names to this scenario: Hook matters more than Robin. Now, I ask you: why? I know that I try to maintain some distance on Hook when I can but in this case I cannot. Another man died and while his death did not trigger Hook's resurrection, I am forced to ask why Zeus could not also bring back Robin (simply wave his hand and undo the Olympian Crystal). Is Hook really that worthy? Did he really do that much good in this episode as to override all the previous murders, plots, and y'know, almost sending everyone (including a 13 year old!) to the Underworld simply because "I was a Dark One?" What makes Hook so necessary to either the plot of Once Upon a Time or the universe that the show inhabits that warrants him another (another, another) chance at life?
Meanwhile, on the other side of this delightful plot, Hades turns out to be a pretty simplistic villain. He's Rumple but without the many seasons worth of backstory to elicit the proper amount of sympathy. Honestly, it's really a good thing that actor Greg Germann was so dynamic or else the Hades character would have been an absolute wash and waste. Hades simply wants it all: the girl, the power, and apparently the kingdom? Where did this come from? Hades had a kingdom; he was lord of the Underworld. His kingdom just happened to be populated by dead people that he was holding in captivity unto perpetuity. But, hey, any port in a storm. Just like Arthur and Rumple (yeah, yeah. I'll get to him later), Hades desires a kingdom full of peasants he can bend to his will, only to go home to the missus at the end of the day and watch baby Pistachio play in the garden. The show seems to be making a case that you cannot have it both ways--you cannot be powerful, oversee a kingdom or a people with any sort of ambitious drive--and have love in your heart for those closest to you. I guess that's fair; one should come before the other, theoretically. I don't necessarily think that you can't have love for your kith and kin and not also desire power or have ambition (but this leads to a much broader question of if ambition is wrong or if never ending ambition is wrong, which--if I had to guess--is what the show is trying to get at; that overflowing ambition is wrong. Poor Slytherin house). But to return to Hades, it's just a shame that the show didn't feel the need to flesh him out. This is the first seasonal villain for which we've never gotten a back story; we had one flashback with Zelena to set up Zades, but usually the show complicates their villains by revealing the "truth" of their history. Cora was a Miller's Daughter, poor and unloved by a drunk of a father who went to bed with a liar and had a child out of wedlock. Pan was poor and greedy and selfish. Ingrid was considered a monster by people. I expected to see the conflict between Hades and Zeus (but, then again, this is a show that is all about telling me and not showing me, so I guess we'll never really know how things went down on Olympus apart from what Hades told Zelena in passing). I'll miss the humor and levity (but also terror) Hades brought, but the creativity the writers could have really pushed with his character clearly got stabbed by the same Olympian Crystal that killed Robin and Hades; both gents and the creativity got totally wiped from existence and I'm left with a pile of ashes and no phallic objects to scoop them up with.
--Like Neal, Robin never even got to say goodbye to his children.
--"Hello there..." Maybe underwhelming at the end, but there's no denying that Hades was fantastic while it lasted.
--Raise your hand if you're shocked that Zelena named the baby Robin. No one? Yeah, me either.
--I am completely at a loss about Rumple. So he want to rule Storybrooke? It's his kingdom? Since when is this part of his plan or any notion he's ever had? All Rumple ever wanted was his son (and yes, to keep his power). But world domination--or even just Storybrooke domination--was never a part of this. And now that Moe's decided to ignore Rumple asking for help, I guess Belle better get really comfortable in that Burning Red Room.
--And Hook managed to magic those pages into the story book in SB...how? I know everything in the Underbrook has a "mirror" in SB, but Hook isn't magical.
--What an utter waste of Zeus!
--Regina tells Zelena that true love is sacrifice and that love means giving up everything for someone else. I'm sorry, but no. This is a horrible message. Love is grand and great but your identity, your self worth, your agency, your individuality, and your life are not something you toss away just because of "true love"--whatever the heck that means on this show and in real life. Robin begged Hades to kill him instead of Regina but doesn't even stop for a moment to remember that he has two children. What kind of message is that? A bad one.
--Did this episode ruin the whole arc? This Underworld story had some clunkers already, to be sure, but nothing as egregious as this one. I guess we'll see where I stand next week during the two hour finale.
Monday, May 2, 2016
I suppose we should get this out of the way; to make it clear, in language that cannot be confused or misconstrued: Emma Swan and Captain Hook are canonical true loves. We'll bypass over Henry and season one (cause goodness knows that the writers did the exact same this week) though, I should stress, that one should be able to have True Love with a child and a romantic partner and not be unable to tackle the "you-shall-not-pass" test. Instead of trying to force Henry into this situation, let's talk about Emma Swan. It was her episode, after all. When Emma was conceived as a character, at the beginning of all things, there were several archetypes and fairy tale-like jargon that got attached to our young blonde and leather jacketed heroine. She was, first and foremost, the Savior. In the cosmic good versus evil battle, she was the lawful good, able to take down evil, curses, and dark magic with her innate and in born abilities. Part of that Saviorhood, we learned, was that she was born of the truest love in all the realms, the love between Prince Charming and Snow White. This compounded her Saviorhood and made her even more of a force to be reckoned with. Emma's entire being is that of True Love--she is literally True Love in the flesh, an incarnate entity made up of the most powerful magic of all; this is why Cora couldn't remove her heart in Season 2 and why her magic is white. By that virtue alone, Emma Swan should be able to pass Hades' test to enter the ambrosia fields without needing confirmation that she and Hook share true love. And, for this review, I'm going to ignore the fact that Hook and Emma shouldn't even be true loves at all, and instead focus on how the writers took Emma--someone who's entire being is the most powerful magic of all, a powerful and unstoppable force unto herself--and reduced her to only having a heart full of true love when she's with her (4 month long) boyfriend. I'm harping on the parenthetical that Emma is True Love Incarnate because ignoring this factor has been a trend for some time on this show; the show has begun lessening Emma's own importance as a cosmic figure and emphasizing her romantic story as being the only thing that makes Emma complete, with season 5A as the culmination. Emma's been on her own heroes journey since the moment Henry showed up at her doorstep and called her off on an adventure and a big part of that journey (nay, the biggest part) is the conquering of death or the representation of death and chaos by the hero. This is such an integral part of the journey that I was actually excited for Emma to live up to her cosmic role and defeat death (and Hades) with her own self actualization and herohood. She doesn't need anyone else to be a hero; Emma alone should be enough, but OUAT takes this long standing tradition and warps it into something decidedly not feminist/representative of strong women and unworthy of the character they created at the start. There is nothing wrong with twisting well worn tropes when the author is trying to make a point about society or give commentary on those tropes and, again, this isn't to say that a hero (or Emma, specifically) can't have a romantic love story, but the fact that in order for Emma to be that cosmic superhero she needs the true love she shares with a romantic partner to (literally) open the doors is malarkey. To drive this point home and further complicate it ask your self what role Hook actually plays here. If you remove the romantic love partner from this equation how does the story play out? Emma, down in the worst parts of the Underworld, can't pass the test without Hook because without him she doesn't have a heart full of true love. No, I say, no. Emma's agency and importance are her own and simply being True Love Incarnate means she should be able to pass these Tests (capital T cause we're in Cosmic-land).
--"I came for your...wow...this is hard...help." I really will miss Hades.
--The flashbacks were mostly fine this episode though I am frustrated that the show keeps inserting important life altering people in Emma's life and then never has her mention them until the episode they are introduced. The origin of the jacket was a long standing question, but I hate that it killed a few headcanons I had.
--Regina can remove Emma's heart because...?
--Lots of mythology this week, both Greek (Orpheus and Eurydice) and Egyptian (the scale for the weighing of a heart; it's just missing the feather of Ma'at, the living concept of judgement and fairness).
--Cruella and the Blind Witch are now ruling the Underworld. That will end well.
--The Royal Navy teaches Ancient Greek to its sailors? Well, I went about learning it in a weird way then.
--Henry can now control the Author's writing abilities to the extent that he can write what everyone's unfinished business is? How does that make sense?
Monday, April 25, 2016
The James and David portions of this episode left a lot to be desired because the show spent most of its time elsewhere on more compelling sibling drama. I don't blame them for this; Zelena and Cora are far more meaty and vital to our show than James ever was and it shows in how little I cared that he got shoved into the River of Lost Souls to spend all of eternity in torment. James' complaint against Charming rings as fairly hollow, doesn't it? At least, it does at first when you leave it as is and don't try to get to the root psychology behind it. James had glory; he was a warrior, a favorite son, and the only hope of a poor and broken kingdom. Yes, it was highly political; King George forced his hand, and maybe James had other plans for his life, but the show has never given James any real color or introspection so it's hard to tell what James thought of his father's plans for his only child. Did James have any sort of love (not including his bed and giant-robbing partner, Jack) that would have made him happier? James' true love is really himself; he needs to be the best and so he does everything in his power to prove his prowess. Maybe that's really the heart of the problem for James in retrospective, since he has only recently learned that his birth parents gave him up over his twin brother. For reasons unknown, to everyone, his mother and father chose to give him up over David. Why? Isn't that the real question that plagues James: why wasn't I good enough? Why wasn't I chosen? What was it about David that was better, more worthy, more lovable that I don't posses? A child that has been forsaken or abandoned has a very hard time accepting love from anyone in their adult lives, lest it be ripped away from them again--just look at Zelena's lament that Cora gave up the wrong child or even early Emma Swan being closed off from everyone, including her son. James is, in essence, over compensating by seeking out his brother for an imagined fault that James doesn't actually have; Ruth and her husband did not make this choice based on some perceived sin or error of baby James; they just simply made it and we will likely never know why. In James' mind, he needs to prove his birth parents wrong, to show them that they gave up the wrong child and that he was the "better" of the two. If he can defeat David, he can retroactively prove to Ruth and his father, and, probably more importantly, to himself that he is the better twin. It's actually pretty deep and interesting psychology so it's a shame that the show took the easy way out and pushed James into the murky depths below Underbrooke instead of letting him come to understand that the fault lies not in him, but in his stars.
I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised to learn that Regina and Zelena met earlier in their lives. Let me be briefly harsh here before I turn to gushing over some really outstanding moments: a lot of this flashback plot is convenient nonsense. So that we are all on the same page: inexplicably, and without warning, Regina gets hurt by a magic wand, needs healed from a blood relative (but not Cora cause of reasons) so enter young Zelena (and like last week's Red and Mulan, how did Cora get to Oz?) and then both sisters forget it all because a river from the Underworld just so happens to run by the Mills' house? That's so much convenient in one place that I can't help but wonder if the Enchanted Forest is really in the Forest of Coincidence (Galavant reference!) It was like the writers wrote the present day drama and then realized they needed a flashback (because what would this show be without its mandated flashbacks) and so they came up with something on the fly that could easily be wiped away in a manner of moments with a lazy handwave about magical waters. However, I am actually very willing to over look a lot of this eye-roll worthy flashback because of the raw power of the present day Mills women reunion. I've never been a big fan of Regina; I leaned so heavily toward Rumple so very early on in the show that Regina became his absolute antithesis and, in my eyes, mostly irredeemable; however there is no denying that her character arc and journey is one of the better conceived and more well thought out ones. Cora is magnetic even if ruthlessly coldhearted (or, in her case, literally heartless). Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I hate Zelena with the power of a thousand suns (except for this season because of how delightful she and Hades are together--and yes, this makes me question my own feminism). So three characters I don't have strong attachments or feelings to and they reduced me to some serious blubbering during their emotional reconciliation scene. That, my dear readers, is the power of good writing and it's what makes OUAT so damn frustrating sometimes. Every now and then, there are little sparks of brilliance, little reminders that the show could once reach inside your chest and squeeze your beating heart (much like Cora!). And shockingly enough, most of the time, it's not when there is some sexual-romance agenda being pushed.
--Does Cora really deserve to go to the "better" place? Not really. It goes back to what I was saying in episode 515 about whether you can have true redemption and forgiveness without first facing any punishment or consequences of your actions. Cora did a lot of bad and the only true apology she made was to two people--yes, the two people to whom she did the worst bits, but still only two. I don't know that it deserves an eternity in the River of Lost Souls, but I don't think she should get the fluffy cloud treatment.
--How about one final round of applause for Barbara Hershey who has deftly played Cora since season 1?
--I'm so glad Emma has a superpower that allows her to tell when people are lying. Seriously, Sheriff Swan, how did you not catch on to the James/David switcheroo?
--"Why is everything in the woods with you people?" And then Cruella punched Emma in the face. Attagirl!
--Hades setting up his little dinner date for Zelena, complete with his practiced dance moves, was adorable. I'm gonna miss this crazy blue-haired guy when the show invariably sends him packing.
--Hook thinks killing Zelena might be a step in the right direction. Will he keep her jaunty feather hat as a token to remember that kill by??
--So Robin has literally been in the woods with an infant in a car seat and the heroes have been bringing him baby wipes, formula, and diapers?
--I have no comments on Rumple's actions this episode.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
There came a point during my viewing of this film when I wondered if I'm not just a wee bit too cynical at times. Don't worry, readers. You don't actually have to answer me; I know I am. I've been trying to think back to my childhood experiences of The Jungle Book, the original Disney animated movie. Did I enjoy it then? I think I did, but certainly not the extent of, say, The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast. I liked the songs; I liked Baloo; and I know I loved Kaa (this, by the way, will come up again below so stay tuned). But for me, as a child, The Jungle Book felt too foreign. Talking animals were common in Disney films so I had no problem with that, but the lack of a real world made it too escapist. I've never been in a jungle nor witnessed any of its horrors (and the Disney film mostly makes the horrors of the jungle into jokes--it is, after all, a cartoon) and the cartoon landscapes felt too otherworldly to ever feel deadly. In the new live action film, the otherworldly feeling goes right out the window and becomes very real. But as I stated above, the realness feels flat, or at least unexplored, lacking in the depth of horror we know the jungle can offer. A jungle, in literature, can often represent as terrifying an ordeal as a haunted castle or a wild moor. More so, even, because the jungle in the actual Jungle Book is one of those wildly untapped ones; the kind that people go in to and never come out of (sort of like Mowgli). There are giant apes and ruinous temples and raging rivers and apparently elephants who are also expert landscapers. The jungle itself is supposed to feel like a living creature in this film, one that can be wild and deadly but also one that can nurture and endure. The film does a passingly good job at the latter, but it's the former where it falls down for me. We spend the last bit of the beginning of the movie moving from landscape to landscape with Mowgli and Bagheera--and yes the jungle is so vast and uncharted that it contains everything from rocky terrain, to dense forest, to yellowed Savannah, to something that looks akin to your local midwest state park. The jungle in this movie is the world, but it never feels truly like a threat (hint: it should!). It's not just Shere Khan who threatens Mowgli; the entire situation should be a threat. If Mowgli wants to chose the jungle (because that's where his multi-creatured pack is) that's fine, but the movie never shows the true horror of the jungle; but you better believe it shows the horrors of the man village. Bathed in fire--not just normal fire, mind you, but a fire that licks the sky and threatens to overtake the men standing around its warmth (tiny beings reduced to mere shadows before its red and yellow glow)--the man village is an unholy nightmare from which Mowgli runs.
--The animation of this film is gorgeous. The standout animation scene is probably Mowgli sitting on Baloo's belly, floating upstream.
--I especially loved the re-imagining of King Louie as a giant ape sitting on a throne of a long forgotten temple. Christopher Walken gives a very nice performance moving from stuttering kindly voice in the dark to oversized temple-destroyer in a matter of moments. Also, a round of applause to whoever thought up Mowgli finding a cowbell seconds before you first hear Louie speak.
--While I didn't like the actual plot ending, the ending-ending of the book closing whilst laying on a blue velvet cloth is so damn iconic I actually sniffled a bit.
--"You have never been in more danger of being extinct than you are right now." Baloo was on point.
--Even if their roles were smaller, most of the voice actors did a fantastic job bringing their talents to animal creatures. I say most because despite loving Idris Elba in everything he does, he was a bit too whisker twirling bad kitty this time around; the cartoon tiger was elegant in his villainy. He also missed the chance to showcase Shere Khan's trauma and (yup) humanity in light of his fears.
--Not nearly enough Kaa! The giant snake was masterfully rendered but her role was so small. And she didn't even get to sing "Trust In Me" until the end credits!
--Some clunky dialogue like right after Kaa tells Mowgli the story of the man and his cub who fought Shere Kahn in the distant past, she says, "and that man cub was you!" No kidding. You don't need to make this text. The young kid is wearing red pantaloons. It's clearly Mowgli.
--The actor playing Mowgli was a hit and a miss. One the one hand, he's incredibly young and his costars are tennis balls on sticks so it takes a certain amount of imagination to even make this work, but on the other hand, at no point did I forget that I was watching a kid "play" around. He never became Mowgli, in other words. Also, his annunciation could use some work at times.
--The constant "law of the jungle" refrain got wearisome.
--I'm glad Bear Necessities wasn't cut, but Baloo and Mowgli couldn't even sing it together in time?
--Final Grade: B
--Final Thought: This is a mostly acceptable version of a beloved Disney story and it strays little from the wheelhouse. But where it does stray is noticeable and without any real depth of exploration of what the film is really trying to say.
Monday, April 18, 2016
As I mentioned, this episode is a tricky one to navigate, not only because of my own "outsider looking in" perspective but also because I'm not sure there is much to sell the Dorothy and Ruby relationship outside of being outcasts in a show full of outcasts. There's nothing new here (unless we consider lesbianism new and that's a bridge I'm not going to cross) and it's not as if their sexual preferences made them outcasts. For Dorothy, it's her first trip to Oz that made her family believe she was crazy; for Ruby, it's her part time wolf status (and accidental ingestion of her former boyfriend) that caused her to feel so alone in the world. But one issue that arises is that virtually everyone on this show has felt like an outcast; in fact it's that feeling of being "otherized" that usually sparks their villainy. I do applaud--and will go into more detail in below--that the sexual orientation of Ruby and Dorothy doesn't play into their outcast feelings, but it also means that their connection is tenuous at best. So they feel like an outcast? Well, who hasn't? Other characters who have likewise shared those same feelings are not suddenly true loves, unless the show is about to endorse polyamory and have Regina, Emma, Hook, and Robin partake in a wild night in Vegas. To be fair (or, I suppose, fairly critical), exploration of true love and relationships is no longer the show's strong suit. Most relationships are now developed lightening fast, with almost no room to breathe for the two individuals in question. Merlin and Nimue, Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot, even Hades and Zelena (a couple I'm enjoying!) are tragically under developed. All it takes, apparently, is one flower, one neglectful husband, one adventure into a dark vault, one bike ride, or one walk through a field of poppies (and fighting some flying monkeys) to solidify that the character has "never felt this way about anyone!" Snow gives a pretty telling line in the present day that "love is freaking scary" and it is. And it should be. You're making yourself vulnerable and open and exposed. It's easy to get hurt, to be wounded. There's a reason why people scoff at love after only a few dates or days; human beings take time to get to that stage. We do not arrive at Planet Love without having to traverse an asteroid belt of emotions and conflicts (tortured metaphor, I know, but the show started it by likening Ruby to Toto!) Falling in love after only a few hours and expecting to have an earth shattering, curse breaking true love's kiss after one meaningful conversation makes true love that was fought for over a much longer period of time--like that of Snow White and Prince Charming--feel cheap, which isn't where the show should be going in their first LGBT outing.
--The present day plot was mostly fluff and filler because we've reached that part of the season in which everyone drags their heels in order to hit the 22 mark with enough story.
--I don't care how dense the trees in Oz are; Toto could not possibly sound like that.
--I did applaud the lack of outsider feeling over sexual orientation but lines like "one more life I destroyed because of what I am" are awkward and too heavy and really should be avoided before I take back my applause.
--"Chisel Chin Jr"
--Kansas and Wolfie sounds like a really terrible buddy-buddy cop TV show in the 1970s.
--Belle put herself in a sleeping curse and expects Moe to wake her up, not Rumple. I spent an inordinate amount of time last week discussing Rumbelle so I'll just leave this observation here for now and move the heck on.
--Hook actually said thank you! It's a miracle!
--Did the writers name this episode "Ruby Slippers" as a cheeky attempt to name the 'ship before the fandom could?
--Hades literally melted Auntie Em, mopped her up with a dishrag, and then wrung her into a mason jar. Can we keep him please? Just a little while longer?
--Belle has morning sickness but she is so newly pregnant that she didn’t even know she was pregnant when Rumple told her. But Zelena, who was pregnant for long enough to fully know she was with child, never had morning sickness? That makes NO sense.
--The feather on Zelena's hat bothers me, deep in my soul.