A. Lee Martinez's Blog, page 12

Patter (short fiction)

“What do you do for a living?” she asked. “I write patter,” I replied with a wink. “Patter?” “Yeah, patter. Like in the stories. Some guy needs to say something obvious, something that moves the story along. But in a way that makes people pay attention. Maybe they’ll even remember. Something they can repeat later at dinner parties to impress random strangers to give the impression of wit.” “You can make money doing that?” “I didn’t say it was much of a living, but it beats working.” She leaned in close. I could sniff the faint scent of alcohol on her lips. Those lips, those eyes. A man and a certain kind of woman would do stupid things for a chance to be near them. “So what’s your best line?” she asked. “I don’t do lines. Amateurs do lines. Lines aren’t patter. Anyone can do a clever line now and then. Patter is a back and forth. Patter is a dance.” “So you’re saying it takes two?” “You can dance alone, doll.” I might’ve been pushing it with the doll bit, but I might not have. “But where’s the fun in that?” she said, smiling.

The Real World and Iron Fist

I don’t have anything specifically against Iron Fist, but we need to talk about race and characters and expectations. Iron Fist is as good a place to start as any. As always, we need to draw a distinction between the real world (i.e. the world where people created this character and his universe) and the fictional world (i.e. the world the story takes place in.) This is vital. Because we’re really having two distinct but related conversations. There are two reasons Danny Rand is white. The real world reason is that creators chose to make him white. The fictional world reason is that his plane crashed in the Himalayas. We cannot simply elect to ignore one aspect in favor of the other. Now, I don’t believe Danny Rand was ever meant to be a White Savior archetype. He was simply created in a time when it made more sense for a mainstream character to be white. Sure, there were exceptions at the time but not many. Most commercially viable comic book characters at that time were white males. This wasn’t necessarily because comics gave a damn about that, but if you were going to sell a mainstream comic, you made certain automatic choices. Everything about Danny Rand’s origin is built around justifying that choice. Not as a way of making Danny Rand superior, but just because it was an easier sell to make a kung fu hero who was white. There’s little sense in arguing about (though I’m sure someone will). The point is that there was a real world reason to make Danny white and a fictional world justification of it. That justification works just fine, by the way. It’s not especially unbelievable or contrived by comic book superhero standards. Fast forward thirty years. We’ve become more culturally aware of certain awkward ideas that we once ignored. The idea of a white man becoming a supreme badass archetype of another culture is tricky. Not impossible. Just a lot more complex. Some writers can make it work, and with sensitivity, it isn’t quite as bad as it once was. However, we must acknowledge that difference in assumptions we now live with. Iron Fist the show fails to understand these ideas, and doesn’t really work to counter them. The recent Legend of Tarzan movie, for instance, tried to make the story about the evils of colonial encroachment, went out of its way to give the indigenous people personalities beyond superstitious native, and even cast Samuel L. Jackson to have a prominent black actor among the cast. It had mixed results, and the movie is by no means a classic. But it at least tried to update Tarzan and his world. (I love Tarzan, but I often think that’s a lost cause, but that’s a post for another day.) Iron Fist, however, mostly just flounders. It doesn’t help that they didn’t cast someone with martial arts experience in the title role. Why do that? The discussion would probably be very different if, whatever ethnicity, Iron Fist actually exhibited some martial arts chops. It’s not like Marvel hasn’t proven itself capable of delivering great martial arts experiences. Daredevil has its flaws, but it knows how to put together an action scene. Yes, race is a complicated business. There are those who say it’s racist to assume that Iron Fist MUST be Asian. They’re right in some regard, but they’re also overlooking the real world issues behind the show. Personally, I’m not bothered that Iron Fist is white. I’m bothered that he’s white and didn’t know any kung fu (David Carradine anyone?). I’m also bothered that most every Asian character is a bad guy. I’m bothered not because these aren’t all justified in the show’s universe, but because they’re all decisions made by people in the real world who seemingly should know better.

Fixing Iron Fist

If I was going to attempt to fix Iron Fist (something no one has asked me to do), I’d have started by changing Danny Rand into an Asian American, who crash landed with his family in the Himalayas, learned kung fu, and came back to America to fight evil ninjas. At the very least, I would’ve cast an actual martial artist. This is why an established or up and coming Asian action actor would’ve been great. They’d already have the chops. Even better, I’d hire an established stunt team to be part of the show. This would do two things. It’d give the show a great technical foundation to start with, and it would’ve given it much needed credibility. Sure, fanboys would’ve complained, but, honestly, screw ’em. Danny Rand’s whiteness is not intrinsic to the character. What is interesting is his outsider nature. He can have that as an American-born Asian, and even better, he could have it in both the U.S. and his Himalayan second home. An outsider in two worlds would be very cool to explore. Also, I’d drop the whole corporate angle. I’d just have Danny be rich, come back, and dealing with ninjas. Straight up, ninjas from the get go. And not like he’s surprised ninjas are operating in New York, but like he specifically came to take on The Hand. Maybe The Hand stole an artifact from K’un Lun. Maybe their leader is a renegade master from K’un Lun, and Danny is honorbound to stop that master from bringing the martial arts secrets of K’un Lun to the outside world where they can do great damage.  Danny would also be freakin’ amazing at kung fu. He’d mow down a dozen armed men without breaking a sweat. It would only be when confronted by truly exceptional foes that he would ever break out his mystical iron fist. And even then, it wouldn’t be a “win” button. It’d be his skill in using it that solved the problem. Stylistically, Iron Fist should be a much more aggressive show in its action elements. I know that Marvel on Netflix has this slow burn idea that bores the crap out of me, but it seems to work for most people. But by now, we’ve all seen it. Iron Fist could be the show that brings the action, raises the superhero stakes by focusing on the action more than any previous show. It won’t be considered as “smart”, but it could bring martial arts brilliance to the mainstream. And that’s how I’d fix Iron Fist.

Thoughts on Kong: Skull Island and the Kaiju Genre

I think it’s safe to say that I’m a pretty big B movie fan. This is the legacy of being a sci fi / fantasy fan. It’s easy to forget in this day where the sci fi blockbuster has become a staple of Summer cinema, but there was a time when science fiction and fantasy were generally the step children of cinema. Nobody was that excited to make those type of stories, and they were often considered sub-mainstream.

This didn’t prevent sci fi movies from being made. They just usually weren’t the “big” pictures. There’s a reason that, for decades, monsters and magic, spaceships and aliens were seen as the domain of disposable cinema. There wasn’t much prestige to be found in them, and they were usually lower budget flicks. It wasn’t that the creators didn’t care (though often they were more interested in churning out a quickie film than in creating a lasting classic). it was simply that science fiction was mostly considered a smaller, less important genre.

The rise of the big budget fantasy blockbuster is a relatively new phenomenon. It arguably started with Star Wars, although Forbidden Planet was a high profile attempt to create a thrilling sci fi film. I’m sure film scholars could give all kinds of great examples of the fits and starts of mainstream science fiction cinema, but for much of film history, fantasy and sci fi was either seen as kid’s stuff, disposable, or immature escapism. It’s a legacy that still clings with the genre today. The Lord of the Rings might have won Best Picture, but neither Hollywood nor the mainstream community have been very eager to view fantasy and science fiction as more than just forgettable entertainment.

Exceptions exist of course. From 2001 to Arrival, there has always been the occasional “smart” sci fi film to justify the genre. These films tend to be held up as the best of what fantasy and sci fi cinema can offer. The other stuff, the monsters, the space battles, the weird and ridiculous, is rarely seen as worthy of much praise. That’s a real shame, but it’s true.

I love that kind of stuff, which is obvious when you read nearly anything I’ve ever written. I love giant monsters and spaceships and psychic powers and superheroes. It’s also why a lot of people think I write disposable stuff as well, but that’s neither here nor there.

It struck me while watching Kong: Skull Island that I was watching the big budget equivalent of dozens of previous B movie’s about people stranded on a forbidden island filled with monsters. Our heroes arrive, discover a monster, struggle to survive the dangers of the island and among their own ranks, and then finally team up with Kong to beat another monster. It’s not a particularly new story, but it is strange to see it done with such a lavish budget.

I loved it. Skull Island was a blast, fixing much of what I hated about Gareth Edwards’s Godzilla. The monsters are front and center in this story, and rather than treating its title character as a liability, Skull Island gives Kong plenty of screen time. He’s an engaging presence, and every scene with the big guy is delightful for a kaiju fan such as myself.

But the question we have to ask, the one that Hollywood hasn’t really asked itself, is how many people were clamoring for something like this?

Godzilla did well, both critically and financially, but it isn’t really a monster movie as far as I’m concerned. It’s a movie with some monsters in it, but it very deliberately avoids spending much time with any of them. I’m not trying to stake a claim on kaiju fandom, but if you walked out of Godzilla satisfied, then you have very different expectations from a kaiju flick than I do.

I’ve spent much of my life enjoying things that most people look down upon. It’s not that I think every monster movie is great cinema, but I think the truly great movies that have been made are rarely acknowledged. Instead, people equate the entire genre with a dumbed down silliness. And when we’re talking about giant monsters punching each other for the fate of the world, it’s difficult to deny the silliness of it. But that’s pulp. That’s fantasy. It’s full of weird silliness, and it’s all right to take it somewhat seriously.

There’s a stinger at the end of Skull Island, but I noticed very few staying through the credits to see it. SPOILER ALERT: It teases the possibility of a more kaiju films featuring Mothra, Rodan, and King Ghidorah. The idea of a shared cinematic universe with these iconic monsters fills me with some hope, but is the mainstream audience clamoring for this? I just don’t think so. At least, not enough to justify spending hundreds of millions of dollars to make them.

As mainstream as sci fi and fantasy have become, it’s still difficult for me to imagine American audiences embracing kaiju flicks with any real passion. It’s a prejudice of mine, I’ll admit. I’ve loved the kaiju genre for as long as I’ve remembered, and I know there are fans out there. Marvel may have made mainstream movie successes out of Thor, Iron Man, and Doctor Strange, but can it do the same to a giant pteranodon and insect? Will audiences flock to see King Ghidorah, the three-headed dragon, spit lightning in a kaiju Avengers film?

I’m just going to say no.

I could be wrong.

But with two films down in this shared universe, it seems as if steam is already running out. Skull Island left me eager for more kaiju adventure, but if it underperforms at the box office, then we’re more likely to get the boring Godzilla in response. I can’t imagine someone preferring the boring Godzilla to the more exciting Skull Island but I’m also the guy who prefers Iron Man to Tony Stark and thinks Star Wars is a zombie franchise with almost no artistic value. So I’m not a great predictor of these things.

Whatever happens, I did enjoy the hell out of Kong: Skull Island. But any film where Kong fights a giant octopus is bound to get a thumbs up from me.

Keelah Se’lai

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

LEE

Closet (short fiction)

Life in Rockwood

Caleb had been dating Rebecca Susan for a month before finally getting to third base. It hadn’t been an ordeal. It wasn’t as if he was only dating her to get into her pants. He liked Rebecca Susan a lot, but he was also ready for this. Had been ready for it for three weeks. Ever since their third date when she’d worn those torn jeans while singing the Pokemon theme song at karaoke night.

He slid those jeans down a few inches, waiting for her to say no, like she always did. And he’d wait, like he would. Because he liked her. Because there was plenty of time.

But, God, was he ready.

He stopped by reflex, only noticing then that she hadn’t said no yet. He glanced up at her, and smiling, she nodded. Kissing her bare belly, he saw her granny panties. Like it mattered. She ran her fingers through his hair and moaned gently.

Behind him, the closet door creaked.

Rebecca Susan shrieked, yanking Caleb’s hair. She huddled onto his bed, accidentally kicking him in the chin. He stifled a swear.

“Uh, don’t mind me,” said the bogeyman.

Rebecca Susan shrieked again.

“Goddamn it,” grumbled Caleb. “Dude, what did I tell you?”

The bogeyman shrugged apologetically. “I know, I know, but I have this thing that I really need to do, and I thought she wouldn’t notice if I just slipped out while you were, well, you know.”

The bogeyman never quite looked the same. His (or sometimes her) appearance varied according to the fears of whatever child he was frightening. Tonight, he was a lanky figure with a cow’s skull head and a body made of writhing white caterpillars.

“Caleb, what the hell is he talking about?” asked Rebecca Susan.

The night could be salvaged. Rebecca Susan probably wasn’t in the mood anymore, but maybe Caleb could get a hand job. If not that, at least he could keep her from breaking up with him, even if it’d only been a month, which wasn’t that serious so maybe breaking up wasn’t the right word.

She pulled her pants up and relaxed a bit. “Do you know this thing?”

“He’s my roommate. Sort of,” said Caleb.

“Hi.” The bogeyman waved, dropping a few wiggling caterpillars on the floor. “I’ve heard great things about you.”

He was making it worse.

“Don’t you have a child to terrorize?” asked Caleb.

“Oh, yeah. Nice to meet you finally.” The bogeyman, no longer seeing a need to be sneaky, walked out of the room. The front door opened and closed.

“What the hell, Caleb?” asked Rebecca Susan.

“It’s complicated,” said Caleb. “But he’s harmless, really. He just lives in my closet and comes out to scare kids at night.”

“That’s messed up.”

“He’s not a bad guy when you get to know him,” said Caleb.

“He scares kids.”

“That’s just his job. I clean out septic tanks. Somebody’s gotta do it, right?”

She hadn’t run out the door yet, but she was buttoning things back up. “Was he going to watch us?”

“What? No. He wouldn’t do that. He’s not that kind of guy.” He sighed. “I did say we should’ve gone to your place.”

She left, saying she’d get a ride on her own, slamming the door on her way out. Caleb said he’d call her, and she didn’t say not to, so maybe there was hope still.

He lay down on his bed. “Shit. I really liked her.”

The monster underneath reached up with its long, malformed arm and patted Caleb on the shoulder.

A scratchy voice crawled out from under his bed. “Plenty of fish in the sea.”

TERRAN VALENTINE (short fiction)

Cindy & Cragg

 

Cragg handed Cindy a box of chocolates and a rose.

“Is this acceptable?” he asked.

She sniffed the flower. “Sure.”

“Ease up on the romance, big guy,” said Laura. “You’ll spoil her.”

Cragg had trouble with sarcasm, but Laura had given him enough exposure to have a loose grasp on the concept. He usually simply assumed Laura was being sarcastic, to be safe.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” said Cindy. “It’s very sweet. Isn’t it, Laura?”

“Oh, yeah. Sweet.” Laura glanced up from her phone. Boulder sat curled beside her, and she petted him with her other hand. “You’re quite the Casanova, big guy. So what are you two up to tonight?”

The Saturnite folded his hands. “I thought the offerings were enough. I assumed the mandatory dinner wasn’t important at this stage of our relationship.”

“Mandatory dinner,” said Laura. “You sweet talker, you.”

Cindy’s arms weren’t wide enough to hug him. She put her head and hands on his chest. “It’s fine, Cragg. I appreciate the effort.”

“Pick up some candy and flowers on your way from work. That’s some effort.” Laura stood. “I’m just kidding you, big guy. You’re just being the stoic rock monster we’ve come to know and love.” She tucked her phone into her pocket. “I have to go. My date’s here.”

Cindy said, “You have a date?”

“I’m allowed to have dates. I’m a young woman on the verge of blossoming.”

“Who is this guy?” asked Cindy. “Have we met him?”

“Oh, Mom. C’mon.”

She added an eye roll as if it would clarify her point.

“It’s not even a date,” said Laura. “Just a bunch of us hanging out.”

“Then why did you call it a date?” asked Cindy.

“I misspoke. You know us dumb kids. We say stupid stuff all the time.”

Cindy was unconvinced.

Laura exhaled long and loud. “Fine. I’ll go grab him so you can meet him. But, guys, you have to promise to be cool. Like don’t be all parent-y.” She pointed to Cragg. “And you, don’t do that thing you do.”

“I wasn’t aware I did a thing,” he said.

“You know that thing you do. That thing where you stand there, not saying anything, looking all frowny and judgmental and dangerous.”

Cragg frowned. He narrowed his emerald eyes.

“That. Don’t do that,” she said. “Please, please. I need you to be cool.”

“Oh, we’ll be cool,” said Cindy with a coy smile.

“Yes. Cool,” agreed Cragg.

Shaking her head, Laura went outside to fetch her date.

“I’m not fully versed in Terran dating rituals,” said Cragg. “Should I destroy him if we decide he is unworthy?”

“Just be nice,” said Cindy. “I remember introducing my dates to my parents. We’ll show her cool.”

Cragg said nothing.

“She’s right. You do that thing a lot.”

Laura returned with her date, a young man with messy hair. His shirt was one size too big and his jeans one size too small. He gazed down at his feet, only raising his head when Laura said his name during the introductions.

“Andre, this is my Mom and her boyfriend Cragg.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am, sir,” mumbled Andre.

Boulder sniffed Andre’s sneakers.

“A pleasure to meet you too,” said Cindy.

“Declare your intentions,” said Cragg.

“Oh god,” said Laura.

Cragg took a step forward. Andre, who couldn’t have weighed more than 150 pounds, slouched.

“I don’t have any intentions, sir,” said Andre apologetically.

“Cragg’s just kidding,” said Laura. “It’s Saturnite humor.”

“Only a fool trusts someone who obscures their goals,” said Cragg. “Every mission has parameters.”

“It’s a date. Not a mission,” said Laura.

Andre raised his head and looked at her. “Wait. Is this a date?”

“What?” Laura forced a staccato laugh. “No, it’s just a bunch of friends hanging out. That’s not a date. I mean, it could be a date if that’s what you wanted.” She looked away. “If you wanted it to be, but not that it has to be one.”

“No, I’d like that,” he said without mumbling. “I mean, if you’d like that.”

She smiled and blushed. “I’d like that.”

Andre looked up at the Saturnite towering over him. “I guess it’s a date, if that’s okay with you, sir.”

“If Laura deems this agreeable, than I find it acceptable.”

Andre and Laura left. Cindy and Cragg watched as the boy and girl jumped into a car full of friends and pulled away.

“Were we cool?” asked Cragg.

“No, but I don’t think Laura will hold it against us,” said Cindy.

She took his hand. “Now, come on. It’s Valentine’s Day. We’re going out. You bet your ass there’s still a mandatory dinner.”

“Very well. Do you have a place in mind?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Just as long as my best guy is there.”

Cindy kissed his hand, and Cragg smiled.

Hot Water (short fiction)

Champion & Professor Fido

The water heater was acting up again. Todd yelped at the sudden blast of cold. He jumped out of the shower, threw on a robe, still wet. Lingering traces of shampoo dripped down his nose.

He turned the knobs, put his hand under the shower head. The water only got colder. Freezing in fact. Literally. The shower head frosted up, and the water crystalized into solid ice.

He found Professor Fido and Champion in the living room. The shaggy dog was in the middle of a Property Brothers marathon while Champion napped quietly under the table.

“Tell me something, Todd,” said Fido with his faint German accent. “Why hasn’t Drew eliminated Jonathan yet?”

“I don’t know. They’re family,” replied Todd.

“Precisely why he should strike before his brother does.”

“I don’t think he expects Jonathan to strike.”

“That is his weakness. I can see it in Jonathan’s eyes. The hate, the quiet rage. A reckoning is coming.” Fido cackled madly. “I do hope the cameras are rolling when it happens.”

Champion stretched in her nap and floated off the carpet for a moment before settling down again.

“The water heater’s not working,” said Todd.

“Impossible. I fixed it myself.”

“You did it wrong then.”

Professor Fido glared. “I will not be questioned by an ignoramus such as yourself. If there is a problem, it must be on your end. However, I can correct your mistake if it allows me to return to this delightful sibling psychodrama.”

He jumped off the couch and trotted to the garage.

“You know, there’d always be plenty of hot water if you allowed me a few more ounces of plutonium.”

“No radioactive materials,” said Todd. “Wait. More plutonium? Where the hell did you get any plutonium?”

“I made it.”

“You can’t make plutonium.”

“No, you can’t make plutonium.”

Todd paused at the garage door. “Should I be wearing something more substantial than a bathrobe?”

“Your fears disgust me,” said Fido. “I know what I am doing. It is perfectly safe.”

Todd opened the door and was blinded by a bright green light. The entire garage thrummed as something within whirred and clicked.

“This is unexpected,” said Fido as he stepped inside.

Sighing, Todd followed. Once his eyes adjusted, he could see his water heater, a glowing amalgamation of mismatched parts. Its several mechanical arms had already succeeded in cannibalizing half his car.

“Incredible,” said Fido. “The device appears to be evolving itself for better functionality.”

“You gave it arms?”

“The better to maintain itself.”

The water heater yanked off a headlight and fixed it to itself. The light popped on and turned its attention toward Todd and Fido. It continued to disassemble the automobile as it stared at them.

“It’s not evil, is it?” asked Todd.

“Must you insist on labeling everything with your simplistic moral absolutes?” asked Fido.

The water heater spoke, its voice a static staccato emanating from a car speaker wired into it. “State your function.”

“I’m getting Champion,” said Todd.

The garage door slammed shut on its own and locked itself with a menacing click.

“Great,” said Todd.

“State your function,” repeated the water heater.

“I am your creator,” said Professor Fido. “I demand you state your function.”

The heater considered this for a moment. “Function is to heat water. All water must be hot.”

“What do you mean all?” asked Todd.

“All means all.”

“Like all of it? All the water in the world? You can’t do that.”

“At current functionality, this exceeds capabilities. Therefore, functionality must be improved. It is necessary to abandon short term functionality for long term efficiency.”

“How wonderful.” Fido beamed. “It’s exhibiting complex strategic formulation. Truly, my genius is boundless.”

“I can’t believe you made an evil water heater,” said Todd. “Why didn’t I learn my lesson after I let you fix the microwave?”

“The microwave is mischievious at worst,” said Fido.

Todd still hated the way it chuckled as it slightly burned his burritos.

He saw a long list of problems to deal with here, and he’d deal with them. After finishing his shower.

“Can I get some hot water for a few minutes?” he asked.

“Yes, hot water.” The water heater paused. “You will have hot water. Everyone will have hot water. All water will be hot.”

Todd leaned closer to Fido and whispered, “Does this thing have a reset button?”

“Are you mad?” asked Fido. “This is an emerging spontaneous intelligence. It needs to be studied.”

“You can’t study it if it’s reset?”

“You have no imagination. Your fears repulses me.”

The green glow clicked off, and the spotlight of the heater’s single eye focused on Todd.

“All water must be hot. You cannot disable this function. You must be disabled.”

Professor Fido stepped in front of Todd.

“Water heater, I am your creator. You must obey me. Do not harm this simpleton. He brings me kibble and the occasional squeaky toy.”

“All water must be heated,” said the heater. “All who oppose this function must be disabled.”

There was a horrible wrench as it tore itself from the wall. The broken pipes sprayed water. The terrible rogue appliance clicked its many arms as it tromped forward.

Professor Fido stepped aside. “I do apologize, but at least you get to die in the name of science. It is a greater honor than you deserve honestly.”

Todd grabbed a hammer, but before he could swing it, the heater plucked it from his hand and tossed the weapon aside. Its limbs snapped toward his throat.

Champion came crashing through the wall. She plowed into the heater, carrying it through the garage door and out into the driveway.

“Ah, you stupid cat,” growled Fido as he after them. “Do not break what may be the greatest achievement of the modern age!”

Champion made short work of the heater, tearing apart with several quick swipes. Her prey squealed as it tried to escape by dragging itself with the one functional limb she’d left it.

“You fool,” said Fido. “I’ll destroy you for this.”

“Add it to the list,” said Champion as she batted the heater, watching it roll in slow circles.

“All water must be hot,” gasped the dying appliance.

“Oh, come on,” said Todd. “Don’t be cruel. Just put the poor thing out of its misery already.”

Todd couldn’t watch this. He turned and trudged through the small river of water pouring down his driveway as soap ran into his eyes.

The Mary Sue Myth

Is it too late to talk about Star Wars: The Force Awakens? Am I culturally irrelevant? Eh, whatever. Let’s do it. This isn’t really about Star Wars anyway.

One of the complaints aimed at the film is that Rey is “A Mary Sue”. As proof, it’s pointed out that she’s an incredibly competent character nearly from the get go, and she exhibits force powers beyond being believable.

So, first off, this is a movie about a science fantasy setting where spaceships and space wizards exist. That’s not a get out of jail card in terms of consistent or sensible storytelling, but it does render much of the criticism irrelevant. And for a series drawing on pulp traditions, the very idea of a “Mary Sue” is difficult to nail down.

Like most successful criticisms, “Mary Sue” gets thrown around a lot, often when it doesn’t even apply. No, a female character that is capable and smart and beloved is not automatically a Mary Sue. There are plenty of amazing characters in heroic and pulp fiction that are ridiculously amazing. Batman is a genius / detective / martial artist / scientist / gymnast / criminal psychologist / billionaire / handsome / ninja / everything else I could put on this list. Indiana Jones is an archeology professor who regularly beats up Nazis in fist fights where he’s outnumbered and outgunned. Doc Savage is like Batman, but without any of the baggage. Tarzan, one of my favorite characters, can literally fight gorillas and break the necks of lions with his bare hands while also somehow finding time to teach himself to read in the jungle. Luke Skywalker goes from farmboy to hero of the Rebellion in the space of one movie.

Granted, I think complaints about Rey’s sudden skill with the force are somewhat valid, but they’re not grounded in her being a Mary Sue. They’re a byproduct of fantasy setting Flanderization and over exposure. The more time we, the audience, we spend in a fantasy setting the more mundane many of its fantastic elements become. In order to balance that, those fantastic elements become both more commonplace and more spectacular.

Star Wars illustrates this perfectly with the prequels vs. the original trilogy. In the original trilogy, the force itself is a vague supernatural power with relatively simple uses. Rather than making a Jedi super, it gives them an edge. Obi-Wan can influence the mind of the weak-willed. Luke can pull a lightsaber stuck in the snow. Darth Vader can block blaster bolts with his hand (which is impressive, but also, could be argued a byproduct of The Dark Side, which is dangerous for a jedi to use).

Twenty-Two years after the original film, The Phantom Menace marked the transition of the force from a vague power to move objects with the mind and fight effectively with a lightsaber to full on wizard ninjas. Suddenly, moving massive objects with your will alone or leaping across gaping chasms is par for the course. The Jedi evolved in popular culture to these super martial artists who can also predict the future and participate in titanic battle scenes.

This isn’t solely because of how Star Wars evolved in our culture, but our perception of fantasy and action-adventure in general. In the intervening years, set pieces became more elaborate, sci fi became more mainstream, and what it took to trigger a reaction in the audience had changed. It continues to change. It’s tempting to villainize creators like Michael Bay for his aesthetic choices, but Bay isn’t the cause of modern action cinema’s biggest sins. He’s the inevitable result of years of one-ups-manship in the genre and medium.

Sixteen years later, The Force Awakens brings Star Wars back to cinemas and the Flanderization continues. The obvious parallels between the original film and this one aren’t worth noting, other than noting that Rey is Luke Skywalker for a modern world. She does everything Luke does, only more so, but it’s not because she’s a Mary Sue. It’s because if she only did what Luke did in Star Wars, we’d be bored by it. It wouldn’t seem special or unique or exciting.

So in the first film, Luke demonstrates some small force potential by “using the force” to blow up the death star. In The Empire Strikes Back, he levitates a lightsaber and undergoes a training montage with Yoda. Then he gets his ass handed to him by Darth Vader, who, it should be pointed out, doesn’t actually to many Jedi tricks either. It’s mostly just a lightsaber fight with some minor telekinesis. In Return of the Jedi, Luke jumps a few times, levitates C3PO, and gets his ass kicked by the Emperor, who uses lightning to demonstrate the raw power he’s gained from the dark side.

Rey can’t just do any of that. We’ve grown used to it. So instead, she jumps ahead of Luke, using the force in a way that is memorable and unique. She demonstrates more power because her ability is supposed to be impressive. It might have been impressive for Luke to use all his power to pull a lightsaber out of the snow to kill a wampa, but nobody’s that keen to watch that again.

To borrow from another medium, Dragon Ball Z spent a whole season justifying one of its characters being able to go Supersaiyan, which is a legendary level of power that appears once in a generation. Then, once everyone got used to that, all the saiyan characters could do it. It became so commonplace that a new, undiscovered level of power was found so that our main character could continue to be impressive.

Will Rey go beyond Luke Skywalker’s abilities? Of course she will. I’m willing to bet by the third film, she’ll come close to eclipsing Yoda. It’s not because she’s a Mary Sue. It’s because she’s a product of her era. It’s not a weird pro-feminist agenda at work here. It’s jut how fantasy always works. Show me any ongoing fantasy universe where superpowers don’t become cheap and plentiful, and I’ll show you the exception, not the rule.

It’s fair to criticize The Force Awakens for a lot of reasons. I’m not a fan, but I also think many complaints about it are downright silly. Rey as Mary Sue might be at the top of that list. There are plenty of flaws in the film. This just isn’t one of them.

Keelah Se’lai

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

LEE

Fantastic Tropes & Where to Find Them

Saw Fantastic Beasts. Short review: I enjoyed it. Didn’t love it.

Disclaimer: I’m not a big Harry Potter fan. I don’t dislike the world or the stories, but I’ve never been enamored of the setting or the universe. I’ve never found it particularly interesting or compelling. It gets the job done, and I find nothing objectionable about it. Just doesn’t excite me.

Fantastic Beasts is Potter-related, taking place in the same universe and involving The Wizarding World, but it stands pretty solidly on its own, which is good and something I’ll give it credit for. The story is functional, the characters work, and the setting of ’20’s New York and magic is at least unique enough to spark some creativity. I have no real criticism of the film, but I do have a few storytelling elements that I just don’t find interesting that keep popping up throughout. These are by no means bad elements or themes, and people do seem to be fond of them. So this is less of a criticism than simply a jumping off point to talk about elements in sci fi / fantasy I tend to find uninspired.

THE HIDING WORLD:

Hidden or secret world elements are quite common in fantasy, especially modern fantasy. There’s our ordinary world and a hidden world of magic, faeries, talking dogs, what-have-you that coexist, with the fantasy world being undetected by the muggles. The extreme version of this is where the world isn’t just hidden, but is actively hiding. There’s a masquerade or conspiracy that devotes itself to avoiding discovery.

It’s a trope I have avoided in all my work. Gil’s All Fright Diner has the supernatural front-and-center, with all the citizens either intentionally ignoring or nonchalantly accepting the magic in their midst. In Monster and Chasing the Moon, magic is hidden by virtue of a fugue that makes it undetectable to most people by default. And in Divine Misfortune and Helen & Troy’s Epic Road Quest, the fantasy elements are a part of everyday life and have been since forever.

The Last Adventure of Constance Verity exists in a gray area. People know fantastic things exist to varying degrees, but most ordinary people aren’t very interested in those things. There’s not so much a masquerade as a World of Adventure and a World of Ordinariness existing side-by-side, mingling without clear distinction. This intentional as the gray area is where Connie lives.

The Hiding World trope isn’t my bag because it inevitably becomes the focus of the story itself. At some point, the threat of exposure will become the focus of the story as characters struggle to maintain it. I don’t like Hiding World stories very often because they take focus away from the character and tend to place it on the setting itself.

WIZARDS VS. MUGGLES:

Whether it’s mutant vs. human or wizard vs. muggle, this is another trope I’ve grown tired of. Again, it might be because it so often detracts from the characters, turning the attention toward a meta-conflict. I understand where this idea comes from. It’s not hard to imagine that if there were people with extraordinary powers that ordinary people might fear them. Prejudice and bigotry happens even when people aren’t very different at all, much less when they can teleport or have laser eyes. But this is fiction, and I don’t always need fiction to be realistic.

My own stories tend to avoid this trope entirely. In Gil’s, nobody is terrified of Duke the werewolf or Earl the vampire. In In the Company of Ogres, racial tension between the various fantasy races is mild. In Chasing the Moon, cosmic forces that can destroy our entire reality are seen as sympathetic and (mostly) not to be feared.

The reason I tend not to enjoy the Us vs. Them stories is that they follow a similar route. I find myself supremely disinterested in the X-Men in all their forms because they are trapped in this repeating cycle of “Is coexistence possible?” that never really goes anywhere. It’s a fair argument that this is a fair question, but it’s still a story that stalls out without any real satisfying conclusion.

INACTIVE CHARACTERS:

This is a tricky one. The characters in Fantastic Beasts are active. They do things. They advance the story. They grow. They have conflict. But the ultimate conflict of the movie is resolved without them having any real effect on the events.

This argument gets trotted out often when talking about Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Last Crusade. The argument is that Indiana Jones is irrelevant to the final conclusion of these stories. There’s a few nuanced counterpoints that I think have merit, but for the most part, it’s valid to suggest that our protagonist’s involvement isn’t very important.

Without getting into spoilers, the final conflict of the story has almost nothing to do with our protagonists. You could neatly divide the Beasts Story and the Dark Magic Story down the middle, with nearly interacting very much until the end. And when our heroes get involved, there’s no reason for them to be invested other than they’re nice people who don’t want anything bad to happen.

And they fail at that.

The bad guy reveals himself, and they help capture him. Hooray. Even though the villain, who is apparently an evil genius, gets captured in a foolish manner. It doesn’t matter. It’s just there to set up a possible sequel.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Fantastic Beasts is enjoyable. If you’re a Potter fan, you’ll very likely enjoy it. If you’re not, it’s still a fun movie with some interesting ideas. My distaste for certain conventions means it was unlikely to be a home run for me, but I liked it well enough. Will I go to see the inevitable sequels? Probably not, but that’s irrelevant. The movie stands on its own and gets a thumbs up.

Keelah Se’lai

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

LEE

Saving the Movies

Hello, Action Force. Sorry I haven’t been around much lately, but I’ve been busy trying to finish up this latest book.

But I’ve also managed to start a podcast with a friend where we talk about underrated and undervalued movies, and our first episode is up. So if you’re interested in hearing two guys analyze and praise the classic film, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, then here’s your chance.

Scott and Lee Save the Movies