Rachael Eyre's Blog - Posts Tagged "helluva-boss"
Helluva Boss!
If you spend much time on animation Twitter, you could be forgiven for thinking it’s the Second Coming. Posters with cartoon avatars are counting down, swapping GIFs and using cryptic hashtags such as #Stolitz. What’s going on?
Wonder no more. The second season of Helluva Boss, SpindleHorse’s cult indie animation, drops today. It’s nine months since the first season finale; fans have been living on slashfic and speculation ever since.
Helluva Boss is the tale of Blitzo (the o is silent), a skeezy imp running an assassination start up called I.M.P (Immediate Murder Professionals). His colleagues are Loona, his surly hellhound adoptive daughter; and Moxxie and Millie, the happiest married couple in Hell. The company has a unique selling point: by using a grimoire or spellbook, they can go up to Earth (‘the human world’) and off anyone at their clients’ request.
So far, it sounds like a standard adult animation - but this is where it gets interesting. Blitzo only has the grimoire because he slept with Stolas, an owl prince of Hell, and stole it from him. Stolas has become infatuated with the imp, so they’ve forged a Faustian pact with a difference: he will allow I.M.P to keep using the book if, every month on the full moon, they have a night of “passionate fornication.”
In any other show, this would be played for black comedy, with Stolas as an old school queer villain and Blitzo as a straight hustler - and indeed that’s how some viewers interpreted the pilot. But the situation is far more complex, with Blitzo gradually returning his feelings. Their will they, won’t they relationship is the central arc of the series - #Stolitz, to use their ship name.
It doesn’t help that Stolas has a wife, Stella, who is livid she’s been betrayed with a lowly imp. Or that he loves his daughter Octavia dearly, no matter how toxic his marriage is. The writers have managed to make Stolas a sympathetic, relatable character despite his infidelity - a deeply repressed, closeted gay man, recognisable to anyone who grew up in less tolerant times.
The LGBT rep doesn’t stop there. Blitzo is pan, with lovers of all genders. Moxxie and Millie, who are essentially the infernal Gomez and Morticia, are bi and perfectly open with one another. Fizzarolli, Blitzo’s enemy and implied ex, is in his own secret relationship with a prince of Hell, Asmodeus. Sallie May, Millie’s sister, is trans but it’s treated as completely unremarkable; she’s her parent’s favourite and loves winding her sibling up. Unlike other cartoons, the representation is part of who the characters are, not the subject of constant commentary or debate.
Should anyone think this is a ‘worthy’ show: it’s billed as an adult animation for a reason. It’s foul mouthed, filthy and hilarious, with buckets of gore and pitch black satire. It’s also a musical, with one fabulously choreographed and performed number per episode. The animation is gorgeous: quite aside from the vivid character designs and intricate backdrops, there are so many Easter eggs and fine details, you’ll find yourself pausing to take screenshots. Which you can, this being on YouTube rather than Netflix (thank God).
Being a Helluva Boss fan has been an experience like no other. The creator, Vivienne Medrano, aka Vivzie, is bi; her co-writer (and Blitzo’s VA) Brandon Rogers is gay. They love and engage with their fans, responding positively to fan art and fics. This is so refreshing after years of queer fans being treated like freaks, only allowed under sufferance. It shows what fandoms could and should be like, if there were more queer creators and showrunners.
If Season 2 is better than Season 1, it’s going to be phenomenal. I can’t wait to watch and review it #HelluvaBoss
Wonder no more. The second season of Helluva Boss, SpindleHorse’s cult indie animation, drops today. It’s nine months since the first season finale; fans have been living on slashfic and speculation ever since.
Helluva Boss is the tale of Blitzo (the o is silent), a skeezy imp running an assassination start up called I.M.P (Immediate Murder Professionals). His colleagues are Loona, his surly hellhound adoptive daughter; and Moxxie and Millie, the happiest married couple in Hell. The company has a unique selling point: by using a grimoire or spellbook, they can go up to Earth (‘the human world’) and off anyone at their clients’ request.
So far, it sounds like a standard adult animation - but this is where it gets interesting. Blitzo only has the grimoire because he slept with Stolas, an owl prince of Hell, and stole it from him. Stolas has become infatuated with the imp, so they’ve forged a Faustian pact with a difference: he will allow I.M.P to keep using the book if, every month on the full moon, they have a night of “passionate fornication.”
In any other show, this would be played for black comedy, with Stolas as an old school queer villain and Blitzo as a straight hustler - and indeed that’s how some viewers interpreted the pilot. But the situation is far more complex, with Blitzo gradually returning his feelings. Their will they, won’t they relationship is the central arc of the series - #Stolitz, to use their ship name.
It doesn’t help that Stolas has a wife, Stella, who is livid she’s been betrayed with a lowly imp. Or that he loves his daughter Octavia dearly, no matter how toxic his marriage is. The writers have managed to make Stolas a sympathetic, relatable character despite his infidelity - a deeply repressed, closeted gay man, recognisable to anyone who grew up in less tolerant times.
The LGBT rep doesn’t stop there. Blitzo is pan, with lovers of all genders. Moxxie and Millie, who are essentially the infernal Gomez and Morticia, are bi and perfectly open with one another. Fizzarolli, Blitzo’s enemy and implied ex, is in his own secret relationship with a prince of Hell, Asmodeus. Sallie May, Millie’s sister, is trans but it’s treated as completely unremarkable; she’s her parent’s favourite and loves winding her sibling up. Unlike other cartoons, the representation is part of who the characters are, not the subject of constant commentary or debate.
Should anyone think this is a ‘worthy’ show: it’s billed as an adult animation for a reason. It’s foul mouthed, filthy and hilarious, with buckets of gore and pitch black satire. It’s also a musical, with one fabulously choreographed and performed number per episode. The animation is gorgeous: quite aside from the vivid character designs and intricate backdrops, there are so many Easter eggs and fine details, you’ll find yourself pausing to take screenshots. Which you can, this being on YouTube rather than Netflix (thank God).
Being a Helluva Boss fan has been an experience like no other. The creator, Vivienne Medrano, aka Vivzie, is bi; her co-writer (and Blitzo’s VA) Brandon Rogers is gay. They love and engage with their fans, responding positively to fan art and fics. This is so refreshing after years of queer fans being treated like freaks, only allowed under sufferance. It shows what fandoms could and should be like, if there were more queer creators and showrunners.
If Season 2 is better than Season 1, it’s going to be phenomenal. I can’t wait to watch and review it #HelluvaBoss
Helluva Boss, Season 2 Episode 1: The Circus
Now we’ve had time to process, we can say it: The Circus, Helluva Boss’ second season opener, is a milestone in queer representation.
The indie animation has never shied away from LGBT characters and topics. In the season one finale, Blitzo and Stolas’ arrangement crumbled, as both men realised their feelings went deeper than transactional sex - but they’re too damaged to express it.
Which begs the question: where do we go from here? Does The Circus pick up where the last episode left off?
Thanks to an extended flashback, we learned a young Stolas encountered Blitzo during a trip to the circus with his neglectful father Paimon. The little prince immediately falls in love, gazing at the imp in awe. This is the first time I’ve seen a gay child in media, his crush granted the same weight as a straight protagonist’s. If I had watched something like this as a closeted kid, I would have felt less alone.
One dodgy bargain between their dads later and the boys are playing in the Goetia mansion. Blitzo’s crooked father Cash has instructed him to steal all the loot he can; he turns it into a game. The kids are soon having a whale of a time, bonding despite their wildly different personalities and backgrounds. They share their ambitions, hope they will know each other in the future. They could have - should have - been friends in a fair universe. Instead they grow up in Hell.
There’s a time skip to twenty five years later, to the day he and Blitzo are reunited. Here is the second instance where the episode is groundbreaking: it portrays Stolas as a victim of comphet, or compulsory heterosexuality. He is trapped in an arranged marriage with the appalling Stella, who never misses an opportunity to abuse him. He’s on anti depressants, uses alcohol as a crutch, and judging by how gaunt he is, might have an eating disorder. The one happy spot in his life is his daughter Octavia; everything he does is for her.
When Blitzo is caught breaking into the mansion, a drunk, depressed Stolas says he can handle him. Smitten with his childhood friend all over again, he makes the moves on him the instant they’re alone. Once Blitzo recovers from the shock, he decides to roll with it. The sequence that follows is the kind of black comedy Helluva specialises in: Blitzo desperate to steal the grimoire, Stolas in ecstasies because he thinks his fantasies have come true. The soundtrack switches from porno muzak to a billowing romantic score, Blitzo growing exasperated by Stolas’ awakened passion.
It’s the sole comedic part of a serious episode. If anyone had imagined an explicit sex scene, they were destined to be disappointed. It ‘pans to the drapes,’ with a guilty Blitzo deciding to give the owl some pity sex - that lasts all night. As the imp leaves the next morning, it recreates the iconic scene from the pilot, where he lands on top of Stella’s tea party and tells her what he’s done. A euphoric Stolas shrieks they’re getting a divorce.
The high doesn’t last. Now we’re back in present day, a devastated Stolas laments his predicament to Stolas Speaks, his leitmotif. It’s the big queer Disney breakup number I never thought I’d witness; Bryce Pinkham performs it superbly.
Of course he’s interrupted by Stella. Their showdown confirms what queer fans always suspected: Stolas only stayed for Octavia, their marriage is over, and Stella openly delights in torturing him. In the episode’s most harrowing moment, she goes to hit him; it’s obvious she’s done it before. Although his heart is breaking, he musters the courage to demand a divorce. This scene would be remarkable in a live action show; in a cartoon, it’s incredible.
If you’ve ever doubted it, here’s the proof: Helluva Boss is not just a comedy about funny, horny demons. It can deliver real drama and pathos, address important issues. In sharing Stolas’ story, it’s spoken for anyone who has grown up gay, endured comphet or been an abused partner. Like the owl prince himself, it’s so much more than it seems.
The indie animation has never shied away from LGBT characters and topics. In the season one finale, Blitzo and Stolas’ arrangement crumbled, as both men realised their feelings went deeper than transactional sex - but they’re too damaged to express it.
Which begs the question: where do we go from here? Does The Circus pick up where the last episode left off?
Thanks to an extended flashback, we learned a young Stolas encountered Blitzo during a trip to the circus with his neglectful father Paimon. The little prince immediately falls in love, gazing at the imp in awe. This is the first time I’ve seen a gay child in media, his crush granted the same weight as a straight protagonist’s. If I had watched something like this as a closeted kid, I would have felt less alone.
One dodgy bargain between their dads later and the boys are playing in the Goetia mansion. Blitzo’s crooked father Cash has instructed him to steal all the loot he can; he turns it into a game. The kids are soon having a whale of a time, bonding despite their wildly different personalities and backgrounds. They share their ambitions, hope they will know each other in the future. They could have - should have - been friends in a fair universe. Instead they grow up in Hell.
There’s a time skip to twenty five years later, to the day he and Blitzo are reunited. Here is the second instance where the episode is groundbreaking: it portrays Stolas as a victim of comphet, or compulsory heterosexuality. He is trapped in an arranged marriage with the appalling Stella, who never misses an opportunity to abuse him. He’s on anti depressants, uses alcohol as a crutch, and judging by how gaunt he is, might have an eating disorder. The one happy spot in his life is his daughter Octavia; everything he does is for her.
When Blitzo is caught breaking into the mansion, a drunk, depressed Stolas says he can handle him. Smitten with his childhood friend all over again, he makes the moves on him the instant they’re alone. Once Blitzo recovers from the shock, he decides to roll with it. The sequence that follows is the kind of black comedy Helluva specialises in: Blitzo desperate to steal the grimoire, Stolas in ecstasies because he thinks his fantasies have come true. The soundtrack switches from porno muzak to a billowing romantic score, Blitzo growing exasperated by Stolas’ awakened passion.
It’s the sole comedic part of a serious episode. If anyone had imagined an explicit sex scene, they were destined to be disappointed. It ‘pans to the drapes,’ with a guilty Blitzo deciding to give the owl some pity sex - that lasts all night. As the imp leaves the next morning, it recreates the iconic scene from the pilot, where he lands on top of Stella’s tea party and tells her what he’s done. A euphoric Stolas shrieks they’re getting a divorce.
The high doesn’t last. Now we’re back in present day, a devastated Stolas laments his predicament to Stolas Speaks, his leitmotif. It’s the big queer Disney breakup number I never thought I’d witness; Bryce Pinkham performs it superbly.
Of course he’s interrupted by Stella. Their showdown confirms what queer fans always suspected: Stolas only stayed for Octavia, their marriage is over, and Stella openly delights in torturing him. In the episode’s most harrowing moment, she goes to hit him; it’s obvious she’s done it before. Although his heart is breaking, he musters the courage to demand a divorce. This scene would be remarkable in a live action show; in a cartoon, it’s incredible.
If you’ve ever doubted it, here’s the proof: Helluva Boss is not just a comedy about funny, horny demons. It can deliver real drama and pathos, address important issues. In sharing Stolas’ story, it’s spoken for anyone who has grown up gay, endured comphet or been an abused partner. Like the owl prince himself, it’s so much more than it seems.
