everything-all-over-again

[everything-all-over-again]

Open Letter

Dear Marvel Studios,

The current model of production for your films will bring us to an unprecedented twenty-three Marvel films existing in the same space by 2019. Much like the comic origins, between the television shows, Netflix originals, and movies Marvel Studios has created a vast interconnected universe that now threatens to isolate fans and establish a text that is too dense for new fans to approach. To this end, I suggest you reboot, or partially reboot, the MCU after Phase 3 ends.

Rebooting allows for Marvel Studios to bring new faces to old names by replacing current actors. There are a set of benefits to recasting, chief amongst them is addressing aging actors. By 2019 Robert Downey Jr. will have been bringing Iron Man to the screen for eleven years. His success in that role has not only made him the star of the MCU but established him as Iron Man for a generation of fans that grew up with the films instead of the pulps. However, Downey will be fifty-five by the time the last film in Phase 3 is released, and there will come a point where many of the iconic actors on the screen today are not accurate portrayals of their comic origins.

Recasting also establishes generational lines, which is a method of enticing new fans while building on the nostalgia of previous fans. Having a new face while rebooting a franchise will allow the current generation to cling to their own Spider-Man, Iron Man, or Captain America. By breaking away from the preconceived versions of characters, Marvel Studios can bring new life to the screen and address the issues and values of the current generation. Crafting generational lines further benefits Marvel by allowing fans to categorize themselves and thus become further devoted. This phenomenon has already taken place with franchises that have received reboots, such as Spider-Man and Hulk, fans of which argue over which was better and thus reaffirm their devotion to the franchise.

The interwoven text has been Marvel’s forte since it began writing about superheroes, and the technique has allowed for the golden age of Marvel entertainment which we now inhabit. However by Phase 3 the cost of entry into the Marvel Cinematic Universe will have become too high for new viewers. Across the various platforms Marvel Studios operates on there will be hundreds of hours of content for fans to sift through to get to their favorite characters or arcs. While having a connected universe is a boon, Marvel Studios currently runs the risk of creating something too burdensome for the community surrounding the work, the solution to which is a reboot or partial reboot. Wiping the slate allows for more franchises to be built upon without isolating the next generation of Marvel fans.

Rebooting sounds like last ditch effort, but in reality it is something that Marvel and comics as a whole has done many times. The problems mentioned above are not terminal, and at present are not severe. Yet, wiping the slate ensures that Marvel Cinema extends long past Phase 3 by providing the framework for a healthy franchise, and lets us look past the next film, the next ten years, and onto what Marvel aims to bring to the screen for the next thirty years. 

[everything-all-over-again]

Marvel Business

Over the long history of Marvel one thing has become clear: things end up getting complicated. This is an inevitable part of the model Marvel has chosen, as characters share a connected universe. Events inside one title carry over and impact other titles and storylines, often leading to a climatic crossover event that ties in many separate publications. This is effective as a marketing tool for comics because it promotes materials that a reader would otherwise not be interested in by marketing them as necessary to understanding the crossover event. However, with the complex nature of a fictional universe so multifaceted encyclopedias are published with the sole purpose to decode it there comes a time for the slate to be wiped. Currently this is what is happening in the comics as the Marvel Ultimates universe merges with the Marvel-616 universe to form a new standard universe, the All-New, All-Different Marvel.  What I suggest is a preparation to partially wipe clean the Marvel Cinematic Universe in the same manner after Phase Three is finished. 

Half of the roster of heroes in the Avengers have received at least two movies, the exceptions being Hulk, Black Widow, and Hawkeye, the latter two having no films to themselves. After Phase Three has ended Robert Downey Jr. will have played in a total of eight films, or almost a fourth of all Marvel films after 2008. After Infinity Wars part two, which will be the largest cinematic tie-in event, Downey will have portrayed Iron Man on the screen for over a decade. Sooner or later he will become too old to be the chauvinistic playboy that is expected. Just as the comics reinvent themselves by creating new titles and alternate universes, the movies should reinvent themselves by rebooting the phase one titles, such as Captain America and Iron Man, while giving other films to those which began in Phase Three, such as Captain Marvel and Black Panther. With twenty-three films across ten years and three separate phases it seems like this is the best way not to isolate future fans and avoid creating a universe too complicated to enjoy.     

[everything-all-over-again]

Credit where credit is due

Here’s the links to all of the gifs used, in order.  https://media.giphy.com/media/bqrG9EUt9vS4U/giphy.gif

http://media.giphy.com/media/CNhA74HXGqFOg/giphy.gif

http://i.imgur.com/EZERAjA.gif

http://media.giphy.com/media/IgsXOXGPxfT3O/giphy.gif

https://canaderuraee.files.wordpress.com/2014/07/gsav.gif

http://www.themarysue.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/rdj_christmas_me.gif

http://media.giphy.com/media/jCMq0p94fgBIk/giphy.gif

http://cdn4.gurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/hercules-some-place-else.gif

http://i.imgur.com/qmXwjPm.gif

http://38.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lmayarwysw1qgne6io1_500.gif

http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8jmatqPKJ1qcga5ro1_500.gif

[everything-all-over-again]

On the Fence: The Aca-Fan Dilemma 

[everything-all-over-again]

On the Fence: The Aca-Fan Dilemma Essay

As we all know, fans are like this:

just little ole bundles of joy, content to be there and join in the fun, 

while on the other side we have academics, who are pretty much like this:  

Automatons that exist to critically examine things and be generally soulless. 

The greatest divide between the two groups is the reason behind their interacting with a text, which is entertainment for fans and analysis for academics. This isn’t to say that academics can’t enjoy the content or that fans can’t be critical, and if the title wasn’t a big enough give away I think that the two groups do mix regularly enough to discuss. 

It’s when the line gets blurred and one is pulled between the two groups that problems arise.

Fans are often critical consumers, but the closeness that they have to the text doesn’t allow for the objectivity expected of academics. When you’re the type of person to refresh a website half a dozen times a minute just waiting for an interview with the producer of a show to become available, or even biting your nails at the hoping for any tidbit at all, you’re likely to be a biased party. 

Academics need to be objective critics, and because of that they need to be as personally detached from the subject matter as possible. The more apparent a bias is the less likely the examination is a fair one. But both groups have a lot to say on what they have a lot to say about, and there are benefits to having both the perspective of the absorbed and that of the detached. 

That’s where Marvel comes in.

The most apparent benefit of sitting down and reading something by an aca-fan is that all the minutiae that goes into the movies, which is Marvel’s newest and seemingly most popular frontier, is going to be understood and appreciated, something that only a fan could do. That’s still the case, but the stuff that Marvel puts out today has ample material for fans and academics. 

Marvel has a long history filled with fully-fleshed characters who are more than just muscles and action shots. For a long time Marvel comics has differentiated itself by dealing with the real world, and having characters whose problems aren’t always the Kree invasion, but human dilemmas, like moral choices, alcoholism, guilt, and shame. I mean, once someone tells you that Magneto and Xavier are based after Malcolm X and MLK you kinda just have to go: “Wait, what?”

And it’s these larger thematics that are the domain of academics, the McDonalds play-pin of critical reception. Fans aren’t incapable of grasping parallels and overarching themes, but connecting what Marvel produces today to the larger context of those themes from various media across all of history is a lofty goal for discussion board debate teams.

Now that last remark isn’t me pushing my agenda that fans are bad or in any way less important than academics. Marvel has catered just as much to fans as it has other groups of viewers. 

The references Marvel makes back to itself and other Marvel productions is the type of tactical universe building that originally drew in fans back in 1940,  when Namor the Sub-Mariner first fought the original Human Torch. Today, Marvel leaves these canonical winks and nudges behind just like how a Frenchman carrying a stale baguette through town leaves a trail of bread crumbs.

You’ve got to believe me, this stuff is everywhere now! Like in Netflix’s Daredevil you can see the Avengers Tower in the background of certain shots, or how Cap’s shield is in the background of Iron Man, and a real loop is that in Avengers: Age of Ultron, the titular villain buys vibranium from an arms dealer who says he had a hard time getting it from Wakanda, which is the home of the Black Panther who is getting his own film in 2018. These easter eggs might seem like petty change compared to the lofty themes mentioned above, but they are a continuance of one of Marvel’s oldest traditions: creating a dynamic world that is all the more interconnected the farther down the rabbit hole you go. 

As far as the aca-fan dilemma goes, dividing the individual into two parts doesn’t address the inherent problems with objectivity in criticism or how the people who are closest to the text might not be the most reputable mouthpiece. Nonetheless, Marvel is a complex universe in it’s own way, and it caters to both the critics and the fans, and everyone in between. With Captain America: Civil War on the horizon maybe we should consider following the precedent that Cap set; maybe we all should pick a side.  

[everything-all-over-again]

Living on the fence: The Aca-fan Dilemma

Alright, so for those who don’t know or have been misled, I’m a pretty big fan of a bunch of things, like I assume most people are.  As of late I’ve been obsessing over 

and

just finished 

and my friends keep telling me to shut up about 

(that’s Bojack Horseman for the uninitiated. Not to make myself a corporate sheep, bleating free advertisements for Netflix to line it’s pockets, but it’s the story of a horse who is also a man. I don’t think much more needs to be said than that.)

Now all these shows are deeply enjoyable for me, not so much because they’re comedic and captivating (they’re actually hysterical and enthralling, but different paper, another time) but because I think they’re layered. 

Alright, true. But what I mean by “layered” is that the comedy or drama in these shows keeps me thinking, makes me want to take out a fine-toothed comb and really go to town on these projects. I feel like media today is such an enriching landscape which engages us in new ways. What I consume is pretty far removed from the superficial sitcom situated in sedentary surburbanites softly-lit screens surrounded by sofas and sedans. 

Instead, a lot of what I engage with merits critical examination, which further entrenches me in the media, because my interests continues to grow the more invested I am.  This is where Marvel comes in

For a long time Marvel comics has differentiated itself by dealing with the real world, and having characters whose problems aren’t always the Kree invasion, but moral crossroads, alcoholism, guilt, shame. I mean, once someone tells you that Magneto and Xavier are based after Malcolm X and MLK you kinda just have to go:

This stuff is all across Marvel, from the parallels between the NSA controversies and the Mutant Registration Act, to Scarlet Witch’s reaction to the loss of her child in House of M (which was to reshape all of reality). Comics aren’t the vignettes of violence or nutrionless pulp that media described it as when it was a budding art form. 

But there’s a problem

The people who are going to know the most about the comics, like how House of M ties into Marvel: Civil War and how that event has implications in the current crossover event, Secret Wars, are deeply entrenched in the fandom. These are the people who should be the most critical examiners of characters and stories because they have the deepest treasure trove of knowledge. But how much can we rely on what they have to say? 

I’m not saying that fans can’t be critical consumers, since I get my enjoyment from being critical, and assume that other fans do as well. But as a fan, I know objectivity isn’t always on the nearest shelf. Looking forward at the next wave of million dollar Marvel movies, whose voices should we listen to the most? Film critics, who tear into the films without knowing the underlying causes, the references, the universe (eh, eh?) of information that Marvel has developed? Should it be the fans who remember every issue, know exactly which rendition of every character is appearing on screen, but spits vitriol whenever others simply don’t? 

I think many people would say that the middle-ground between the two caricatures is where the best voices would lay, but I’m not so sure such a voice can be trusted, or even holds enough authority. The critic has no attachment, does their job without mincing words. But the fan’s attachment allows them to grasp things that would otherwise go unnoticed. The middleground lacks the conviction to defend or attack as wholeheartedly as either side. 

[everything-all-over-again]

Gif Essay Spitballing

Following in the footsteps of my essay on censorship, I’d like to find out how the feedback loop works between fans and creators of content. It’s been mentioned in class that oftentimes in television the viewer response may not lead to any change in the show until mid-season, as that much of the show has already been produced. A comparison between that and other production techniques, such as South Park’s weekly show or Netflix Original’s releasing of entire seasons, would be of interest as one would imagine each responds to the voices of the fans in different ways.

I’d also like to tackle the meta of fandom, and find some understanding of it as a system. Who or what determines the entry points into the body of work and subsequently the community, how do members of the community identify one another, do they discriminate based on how other members entered the content? As to the last question, I find that Marvel fans often do discriminate between how people have approached the text. Older fans will laud the comics as being the truest gateway while chastising movie-goers as “casual fans,” and denigrating their experience. How fans see themselves and other groups of fans in relation to the content would be another avenue into thinking about both fans and their communities.

My chief concern with this is that fandom is often disrespected or seen as eccentric, and while academic studies do exist for communities, I can only hope that there is enough material to match my abundance of questions.

[everything-all-over-again]

Hannibal Queer-baiting

At the forefront of my mind is whether or not Hannibal is responsible for queer-baiting, which has been described to me as overtly hinting towards a homosexual relationship with no intention to develop said relationship beyond not so subtle nods and winks. My immediate response to the accusation was a full-hearted, bodily “no,” while my second response was “well, yeah,” whereas my final opinion, the one I find to be the most well-developed, is “yes, but for an authentic reason.”

In order, when I first thought about the issue I immediately discredited it because such an offense was, in my eyes, something that Hannibal was incapable of committing. This is the same show that satiates my desire for macro shots of gourmet food and delivers an aesthetically pleasing adventure for forty-five minutes every week, and while the show derails at certain points (looking at you Randal, the bear-man) the most pleasurable aspect of the show is maintained across the show’s duration. The rash defensiveness I first felt when hearing the accusation points to the difficulty, on at least my own part, in bridging the divide between fandom, which idolizes, makes lofty, and critic, whose intrinsic role is to cut down, to dissect and analyze.

Yet one must trudge ever onward. However deeply one is enchanted by the show, there simply isn’t a way to ignore the tension (often sexual in nature) between Hannibal and Will. Bearing only on the third season, which one may forget has Hannibal offer his broken heart to Will via mutilated corpse, the tension reaches an all-time high, specifically with some of the remarks made between the leading men. “I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with him,” is a subtle enough lead-in to the relationship, yet towards the latter half of the season even Will is questioning the basis of Hannibal’s interest, going far enough to ask of Bedelia “Is Hannibal in love with me?” A viewer only has to watch the way that Hannibal embraces Will while he guts him, the scene that ended the second season and is replayed several times in the third, to understand that there is an affection which oversteps the platonic between the two men, more so highlighted when Will whispers that he forgives Hannibal even that heinous act.

At this point, there is a clear acknowledgment that the show leads one to believe that Hannibal and Will’s relationship extends past the curious interest a cat has for a mouse, further past friendship between two men with broken minds, and into an area which is laden with homosexual subtext. However, I feel as if queerbaiting is undoubtedly a cruel twist on a viewer’s expectations, a spinning of a tale with no resolve, which is a poor fit for the show. The relationship between Will and Hannibal extends past the boundaries of the platonic because it goes beyond the romantic as well. On Will’s part, the strongest emotion he often has concerning Hannibal is that of reverence or absolute contempt, and whether it be in the Cornaro chapel, an oft repeated setting, where Hannibal is always presented looming over Will, or when Will abandons Hannibal after he’s locked away, these two emotions are the driving force behind their interactions. What Hannibal feels towards Will is a question that is multi-faceted enough to deserve its own post, yet suffice it to say that maybe the audience isn’t supposed to know how a man such as Hannibal operates. We know that he sees himself above humanity, and that he involves himself to satiate his curiosity. I find it difficult to accuse the show of queer-baiting if half of the bait is a creature so alien he provides shock after shock over the course of three seasons.

[everything-all-over-again]

How the prologue framed the pictures

Hajdu’s The Ten-Cent Plague blends narrative and history into a single fabric that stretches some three-hundred pages (excluding notes). While this makes for a wonderful reading it does lead to one being carried away by the story, craving that turn of page which brings another tale, one can forget about how the story starts. The prologue, while enigmatic at first, rears its head in regards to its significance time and time again over the course of the novel.

The prologue details a meeting with Janice Valleau, whose art which is displayed around her house (we’re led to believe) is of a high enough quality that she could have easily had been a commercial illustrator, instead of the career she undertook as a comic book artist. Her response to being asked about her failure to pursue fine art speaks volumes: “I couldn’t go back out there – I was scared to death. Don’t you know what they did to us?”

This single phrase gains importance like a snowball starts an avalanche, picking up debris as it tumbles down the mountainside. Wertham’s Seduction of the Innocent won over parents and officials through falsified information and bombastic claims, and captured audiences not by worth or merit of rhetoric, let alone the most preferable option, evidence, but through association to a popular figure. The book burning which came about because of the popularity of such lackluster, if not downright nefarious, research was an act of real violence, and while it does not compare to the isolated incidents of children shooting at cars the book burnings affected more lives with its widespread appeal. Ironically, the same violence and seduction of the innocent which Wertham warned from comics came about from the opponents of the pulps, who propagandized hate and indoctrinated children. The comparison between the book burnings popularized by the German Student Union and that which took place with the comics in America is an apt one, as both came about through a combination of propaganda and enthusiastic youths.

At one point even Janice’s own father turns on her, as he literally drags Janice to an impromptu interview with a finance company instead of driving her to work as promised. The intentions of both Janice’s father and the public at large to usher the young away from a platform that was contemptible and would ultimately harm them. However, the real impact of these actions was mass censorship and a denigration of an art form to societal trash.

[everything-all-over-again]

Response to Spiegel’s “Why Fan Theories Are Destroying Film Discourse”

From the onset one can tell that Spiegel’s aim is to be as inflammatory as possible, as is the trend in the click-bait titled, Buzzfeed dominated era of internet digest. Starting with the name of his article, the hyperbole not only extends to the impact fandom has on academic study, which is never directly addressed, but into the characterization of fans, whose ideas he denigrates to “utter silliness.” This malicious generalization of internet culture continues over the course of the article, ending upon “making these things [fan theories] die a quick death,” as an unsupported conclusion to a problem with no concrete representation. The author’s self-righteous discontent aside, Spiegel’s one-sided attempt at discourse ultimately serves the purpose of highlighting a problem within internet-age conversations, that being the availability and ubiquitous nature of input on the web.

The era in which we live has the advantage of allowing people to communicate across age, religion, status, and borders in a way that has never before been available. What this also entails is people spreading hackneyed, malformed, and often inchoate ideas. Much like those in academia assumedly took offense to the attacks on Western canon when it became the norm to describe it as a collection of writings by old white men. Spiegel may see online discussions and theorycrafting occurring between anonymous usernames as a tragedy, even an assault on the monolith which he believes to be proper film discourse. The sentiment he proposes as a justification for fan theories, “it’s not impossible,” is the main divide between what he describes as film discourse, the apparent upper echelon of film digestion, and fan theories, which is for those he describes as prone to exclamation at the sight of shiny things. With the sheer number of people connected to the internet, Spiegel’s complaint about theories which become regularly circulated is a valid one, as the millions of people who interact in the community serve as an echo chamber where opinions, regardless of their depth or merit, become repeated until such an idea becomes accepted.

           In the middle of his assault on the Jurassic World fan theory, Spiegel makes the remark that fan theories which become popular do so because “they rely heavily on the fact that they aren’t based directly on what’s present in the text.” This is an honest contention with how fandoms ship, theorycraft, and reinvent characters within communities, however this isn’t the end of intelligent discussion that the author makes it out to be. Fandom is the modern folklore, where a text is digested and then interacted with via various media, whether that be fanfiction, parody, film, or art. How different is a fan theory from Sophocles transforming the tale of Oedipus into Oedipus Rex, or Tom Stoppard parodying Hamlet with his own play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead? Surely neither play would receive the flak that Spiegel spews because they are in the esteemed heights of plays, which are discussed not by online participants but those in the worthy sphere.