#but the narrative ITSELF never treats them as different from the male characters just because theyre female characters

[lesbiansanemi]

Day 847337382 of seeing a bad faith “hot take” about Fullmetal alchemist and having to physically restrain myself from starting shit

[commsroom]

as an extension of how hera reads as trans to me, hera/eiffel resonates with me specifically as a relationship between a trans woman and a cis man. loving hera requires eiffel to decentralize his own perspective in a way that ties into both his overall character arc and the themes of the show.

pop culture is baked into the dna of wolf 359, into eiffel’s worldview, and in how it builds off of a sci-fi savvy audience’s assumptions: common character types, plot beats, or dynamics, why would a real person behave this way? how would a real person react to that? eiffel is the “everyman” who assumes himself to be the default. hera is the “AI who is more human than a lot of humans,” but it doesn’t feel patronizing because it isn’t a learned or moral quality; she is a fundamentally human person who is routinely dehumanized and internalizes that.

eiffel/hera as a romance is compelling to me because there is a narrative precedent for some guy/AI or robot woman relationships in a way i think mirrors some attitudes about trans women: it’s a male power fantasy about a subclass of women, or it’s a cautionary tale, or it’s a deconstruction of a power fantasy that criticizes the way men treat women as subservient, as property. but what does that pop culture landscape mean in the context of desire? If you are a regular person, attracted to a regular person, who really does care for you and wants to do right by you, but is deeply saturated in these expectations? how do you navigate that?

I think that, in itself, is an aspect of communication worth exploring. sometimes you won’t get it. sometimes you can’t. and that’s not irreconcilable, either. it’s something wolf 359 is keenly aware of, and, crucially, always sides with hera on. eiffel screws up. he says insensitive things without meaning to. often, hera will call him out on it, and he will defer to her. in the one case where he notably doesn’t, the show calls attention to it and makes him reflect. it’s not a coincidence that the opening of shut up and listen has eiffel being particularly dismissive of hera - the microaggression of separating her from “men and women” and the insistence on using his preferred title over hers. there are things eiffel has just never considered before, and caring for hera the way he does means he has to consider them. he's never met someone like hera, but media has given him a lot of preconceptions about what people like her might be like.

there’s a whole other discussion to be had about the gender dynamics of wolf 359, even in the ways the show tries to avoid directly addressing them, and how sexual autonomy in particular can’t fully be disentangled from explorations of AI women. i don’t think eiffel fully recognizes what comments like “wind-up girl” imply, and the show is not prepared to reconcile with it, but it’s interesting to me. in the context of transness (and also considering hera’s disability, two things i think need to be discussed together), i think it’s worth discussing how hera’s self image is at odds with the way people perceive her, her disconnect from physicality, how she can’t be touched by conventional means, and the ways in which eiffel and hera manage to bridge that gap.

even the desire for embodiment, and the autonomy and type of intimacy that comes with it, means something different when it’s something she has to fight for, to acquire, to become accustomed to, rather than a circumstance of her birth. i suppose the reason i don’t care for half measures in discussions re: hera and embodiment is also because, to me, it is in many ways symbolically a discussion about medical transition, and the social fear of what’s “lost” in transition, whether or not those things were even desired in the first place.

hera’s relationship with eiffel is unquestionably the most supportive and equal one she has, but there are still privileges, freedoms, and abilities he has that she doesn’t, and he forgets that sometimes. he will never share her experiences, but he can choose to defer to her, to unlearn his pop culture biases and instead recognize the real person in front of him, and to use his own privilege as a shield to advocate for her. the point, to me - what’s meaningful about it - is that love isn’t about inherent understanding, it’s about willingness to listen, and to communicate. and that’s very much at the heart of the show.

[shihalyfie]

This is potentially a very loaded question so feel free to not answer if you don't feel like it, but how do you as a woman feel about the handling of female characters in Digimon (anime of course, but also games, manga and even the Digimon themselves)? I've seen takes of all kinds from women over the years so I'm curious how you feel. But again, no pressure to answer if you feel uncomfortable with the subject or too daunted by all the material on the table.

Oh man, I don't mind talking about the subject in itself, but what makes it hard for me is just that the Digimon franchise just has so many things at once with so many different writers and different writing philosophies that I can't really treat the entire thing like a monolith. Especially when you have things running the spectrum from Cyber Sleuth (where female characters arguably drive the narrative far more than the male characters) to Next (which has gotten me angrily ranting about the absolutely awful way it treats its girls, a rant which I would prefer to not subject my followers to).

So before I go ahead, I do want to make sure anyone reading this understands that I'm just talking about my own personal experience and feelings regarding the situation, and I'm very sure that other people will feel differently. I definitely don't feel qualified to comment on what's the ideal way to write female charaters in media or whatever (as if there's even one right answer to that!); I can only truly comment on myself and my own stances on it. (And of course, the OP graciously asked specifically about that, but I just want to make sure nobody reading this post misunderstands!)

Well, I will say that if there's one thing that does seem to be consistent (and I say consistent, because Next absolutely violates this one and Frontier does kind of dangerously toe the line), it's that I haven't really seen Digimon fall victim to the problem of what I call making its female characters the Designated Girl Characters™. Explaining what that is is kind of tricky, but a lot of shounen series will have this very strong "consciousness" of its female characters like they're there to fill a quota, and thus treat them in a way that's kind of alienating. Or in other words, "they section off this character very weirdly in a way they would never do for the male characters." (Note that while Ruki's character arc is made with strong consciousness of her being a girl, the whole point is about condemning the idea she should be treated like some novelty just because she's a girl, so I don't count it as this.)

It was really refreshing to see a 1999 anime portray the girls as mingling with the boys like it was no big deal, and I do wonder if Adventure setting this precedent is a big reason later series have followed in this regard. Adventure through Frontier were made with heavy female creator influence, something that the fandom really tends to downplay (especially because a lot of people suspiciously avoid acknowledging their importance, like how everyone will talk about Hosoda but nobody will talk about the fact Yoshida Reiko wrote the scripts for everything he did, or how people virtually ignored Seki's existence compared to Kakudou until very recently). I think a lot of that shows in its writing; of course, that's not to say there aren't things that really could have used improvement (I think Izumi's treatment in Frontier is the one pretty much everyone universally agrees really left much to be desired, and Tomita even outright admitted he's not very good at writing girls, although that frankly kind of surprises me given how much of his other work has involved writing girls really well), but at the very least it does show a bit more conscientiousness about its female characters than you would see in other shows where female creators were either nonexistent or clearly had no influence in the staff room.

On the flip side, there's also things that were more tasteful in execution than may have even been intended; Sora's character arc isn't that much about her femininity in practice, and Juri does come off as better than your average damsel in distress character, but that doesn't change the fact that the nuance is still there (and that in the latter case a certain writer has outright indulged in that), so all I can do is just be grateful that it didn't get worse.

I guess in the end, my stance is "give or take". I like a lot of other kids' shows (including shounen) that have been better or worse than Digimon's average level, and Digimon itself is so varied that I think it just kind of mingles in there. There are things I like, things I don't like, but at the very least there haven't been too many things that crossed my personal boundary of "absolutely not" (there are, there just aren't many). I think Adventure and 02 in particular are often accused of being more malicious towards its female characters and "screwing them over" than they were intended to be, since a lot of it seems to be a combination of wanting to portray its characters a little too realistically and simply just accidental bad circumstances of how it presented (the fact Hikari's two most famous episodes are by two non-regulars on the series who seemed to be huge fans of portraying her with a brother complex really did not help here), and things like "the same things that feel personally relatable to me are also things that read badly to others, so I understand why people don't like it but I also feel kind of weird when they imply that this kind of concept is inherently Bad" (a lot of things related to Sora and Miyako fall into this category for me). And I mean, part of the reason Miyako became my central character back when I wrote fanfic more often was that I just found her to be an incredibly complex character for the kind you'd usually see in shounen works; I honestly don't know of many other things that would portray someone like her sympathetically instead of cramming her into a "hysterical woman" trope box.

There's also the fact that there's a lot more adult-oriented Digimon media coming up nowadays, so there's that awkward situation where "female character representation" starts having a blurred boundary with "waifu character". Which is not to say that I mind the idea of male fans also liking the female characters I like, but more so that when you get into this territory, I start getting conscious about whether the female characters are more obviously being written in a way to "please the male fans and make them into fanservice material" than it respects them as characters. And I mean, I say it's a blurred boundary for good reason; the aforementioned Cyber Sleuth characters do kind of have that (especially in their character designs), but they are actually written as good characters with agency, whereas you have things like the Adventure girls in tri. who are ostensibly written to follow up on their Adventure character arcs but came off to me as being uncomfortably shoved into the Waifu Character Fanservice troping boxes, especially Mimi and Hikari. (Hooters outfit Mimi and brother complex Hikari are among the few things that I would say have crossed a serious line with me.) So again...give or take.

I will say that the American English dub had a somewhat more misogynistic nuance in the way it treated Mimi, Miyako, and Hikari (it had a lot more condescending tone in the way it portrayed Mimi's airheadedness/materialism and Yolei's penchant for fangirling while also expecting Kari to just put up with Davis harassing her, and it exacerbated the already-kind-of-uncomfortable feelings I had about the unsympathetic way Sora is portrayed in Our War Game!), but it's not to the extent I felt it derailed the entire narrative.

As for the Digimon themselves, the feminine Digimon design sexualization didn't bother me much when I was younger (I remember I really wasn't bothered by Angewomon's design at all), but it does bother me a little more now, especially since you have more designs like Venusmon these days (really? really?). But then there are also really good designs like LovelyAngemon and Mastemon that are just plain cool! And then even designs aside, there's a difference in the way each work portrays them; for instance, you can tell certain anime had more fun with the chest jiggles on the same Digimon that other series were not weird about at all. Maybe the fact Adventure and 02 weren't really weird about Angewomon's design was exactly why I didn't notice it very much back then?

Well, that got long and very rambling, but I hope that answered your question to some extent!

[bamatrxnsplant]

On Creeps

I have posted quite often on Twitter that I'm tired, but I don't feel I've had the space to do it in a way that fully expresses why. That's because a limited number of characters does not allow me to express the nuance of how "creeps" exist in the Twitter space, and I have spent a lot of time carefully avoiding conflict. The problem is, never saying anything has done nothing to stop dealing with creeps except make me feel I can't speak because it's too late, too hard, or too delicate. In real life, it's different. It's easier to hear how a leer makes it into a person's voice. You can feel eyes on you in person in a way you cannot on Twitter. 

We all know the creeps that are easily packaged as creeps. As you'll see going around, don't retweet selfies, don't DM women who don't want you to, and don't assume someone's comfort with their sexuality allows you to say anything you want in their replies. All of us can open our DM request folder, and there will be unsolicited pictures of penises, blunt statements of what part of your body a stranger wants to see, a good morning from someone you've never heard of, or, my personal favorite, insults when their advances are ignored. Sometimes all of these are left in a public space, and your friends can be alerted too.

Those creeps can be blocked, and you can move on. Their offenses can be screenshotted, and you can objectively show why you dislike that person. A more nuanced group of men who reply to everything can be more difficult to navigate, oft referred to as reply guys. Maybe it's only your selfies, maybe they've committed to every post, but they'll have something to say. That in and of itself seems harmless. There is an energy that differentiates a reply guy from a guy who replies, one that I can even sense, and I don't know people are my friends unless they explicitly say it. You start to realize a reply guy has created a narrative, and your silence only gives them more space to decide your intent. Maybe you thanked them for compliments at first and interacted, but then you stopped. 

They don’t. And this sounds like such a non-issue. Someone compliments you a lot? Engages a lot? It’s something more. It’s overtly sexual flirting. It’s flirting with increased intimacy. It’s being uncomfortable because you know they have post notifications on. It’s going to their profile and realizing they exclusively interact with women who look like you. It’s realizing they only retweet porn of people who look like you. 

These are easy to block, too, until they aren’t. This group could be members of your circle. If you block that guy that came to that one game night, will you have to hear about it? They’re prominent in your fan community, so could it impact your ability to participate? That’s when there are whispers. “I don’t want to cause any issue,” it’s always couched because you know what can happen if your discomfort gets back to someone who could just not flirt with you. “I don’t get a good feeling from him.” Relief when they say, “I thought it was just me that was creeped out.”

You can befriend women as a man on Twitter. If I were to name the friends I have made on Twitter, half to more than half of them are men. This isn’t an every man is creeping on you post. I know when someone is replying with compliments repeatedly because they on some level, conscious or not, think enough kindness tokens get them sex and when they’re just friendly. I know which men I can go to and say, “Hey, I’m uncomfortable with you/your friend/that one guy,” and have them listen. 

I have male friends from Twitter. I have formed friendships that went from platonic to sexual on Twitter. I have formed friendships that went from platonic to a safe flirtation. I have had friendships turn romantic from Twitter. That’s because these men ensured interest was reciprocated. They treated me like a person with my own autonomy. I was not a girl they had painted into a box she is much too large for. For them, I am thankful.

That said, I also know which man said I should be led astray in our first Twitter interaction, continuing on with little to no response until I felt I had to get another man to stand with me at an event so he’d leave me alone, seemingly because another man had dibs. He proceeded to glare at me through the event enough that a friend pointed it out, and I didn’t feel comfortable saying anything for fear of blowback.

I know which man let me think we were platonic friends until I promised him he wasn’t one of those reply guys. Then in a Zoom, he created an environment that made me feel I had to leave long enough to change clothes in the hopes he’d stop being a creep under a veil of anonymity. The questions were anonymous, but watching him type them and reference the group conversation was not. 

I know which men heard me say, “I’m flattered but not interested,” and sent a barrage of insults in return.

I know which men I did not know who read my post about my discomfort and immediately DMed me offering drinks and dates and compliments to make me feel less objectified and undervalued.

I know which men make me feel I need a spreadsheet of people to watch out for because I don’t know if I’m crazy until it’s mentioned by friends since so many tweets seem to go missing when you stop speaking to a person. It’s almost like they know they did something wrong.

I know which men will either read this and out themselves by saying, “I never…” or “I was only trying…” or, another favorite, “you’re an ugly bitch anyway.” If you are feeling attacked, I encourage you to evaluate your interactions. And if you feel attacked and regularly have a back-and-forth with me, you are not the problem.

And most upsetting, I know which men I cannot share discomforts with because they won't care what someone else is doing because they "don't seem creepy."

I am tired. I am very, very tired. I am tired of the fact that I am comfortable in my skin, with my sexuality, and with my flirtatiousness. I am not comfortable with men who mistake any of these things as directed at them in particular. That they are somehow special. I do not want your feedback if you do not understand how to recognize the gulf between stranger on the internet and a friend I flirt with. If you see me engaging in a certain way with a friend and not you, consider that it is because I do not know you. I will let you know if I decide I want to. And if you treat me with kindness and respect, like you would another man, that may happen.

[eosofspades]

actually i'm just gonna rant now rim of the world FUCKS and you can't change my mind

like, look. this is a bad movie in a lot of ways, i agree completely. there are a lot of aspects that should have been different or could have been better. but it's a FUN movie! it's not TRYING to be world-changing and dominate the industry with its spectacularity!! it is a silly fun wild alien invasion movie about teenagers and found family!!!! but all of the parts that get criticized are so not the actual problems this movie has??

like. to start with, i understand why some people might be uncomfortable with the sex jokes and humor but it's not BAD?? the jokes are not being made by adults toward the teens, they are being made BY teens. which is LITERALLY how teens are. i have been 13. you have been 13. i'd go so far as to say this is one of the ONLY movies i have EVER seen that does not infantilize or make a mockery of being in your early teens and it was so REFRESHING to see! this is one of the most accurate representations of a group of wildly different teenagers put together i have ever seen outside of real life.

ZhenZhen isn't reduced to a hapless love interest, she's a brilliant and capable character the whole time and Alex does NOTHING but respect her for the entirety of the movie. Dariush has an entire movie-long growth arc about opening up to people, learning what REAL friends are (yes, he's a stereotypical rich kid, NO that doesn't make him inaccurate; i think he's actually INCREDIBLY accurate for a rich kid in the way he carries himself and treats other people and expects others to treat him), and being selfless. Gabriel similarly gets to open up to his new friends and he's never ever mocked by the narrative or made the butt of jokes for his disability (a mental disability i haven't ever actually seen represented before in movies, especially not about teens and kids). Alex has anxiety and PTSD gets to overcome it, and it doesn't instantly fix itself once he faces his fear - he's still awkward and nervous, because healing is a PROCESS, and anxiety isn't inherently something that needs to be 'cured.'

do i wish Dariush and Gabriel's (INCREDIBLY) queer-coded thing going on had been explicitly shown/confirmed? YES. but that doesn't mean it was bad or homophobic. there is a DIFFERENCE between depicting something (especially queer relationships) in a negative way vs. simply depicting it in a subtextual way.

likewise, not all M/F relationships MEAN that the girl is reduced to a love interest by default! YES, even when (maybe especially when) the boy needs reassurance/support from her and/or she is shown to actively desire a relationship with him. these two are MUTUALLY pining! these two have a clear and strong MUTUAL respect for one another! M/F RELATIONSHIPS WITH A 'WEAKER' MALE CHARACTER DO NOT MAKE THE FEMALE CHARACTER HAPLESS OR BADLY WRITTEN.

on the topic of writing!! YES i do think a lot of the writing could be improved upon and there were definitely points that felt unbelievable (even for an alien movie) like the timing of the alien's appearances, or the fact that a solider asked a teenage boy to save the world, or a lot of things! but at the end of the day it is FICTION, and the characters have NUANCE to them, and having flaws does not make a movie BAD. it's a silly wacky found family story about teenagers saving the world from aliens. it doesn't have to be flawless and puritan.

[arthurmorganwateringhole]

Why does it bother you that people hate Mary? I personally like her, but let people do what they want lol

I actually got this ask AGES ago after one of my Mary defense posts, and I saw this and kinda felt exhausted.

Well, I can answer now. I don't wanna repeat too much of what I said about Mary in the past. Really this post says all you need to know about why people are being unfair to Mary and how their hatred is usually based on misreadings of her character and dialogue. But I should clarify that I never once said you're not allowed to hate Mary. I in fact do not care what people think of Mary. I simply answered an ask thrown my way-- one that called me delusional.

But if I'm being honest, it does bother me to see how polarizing and hated she is. It's concerning bc Red Dead fandom so blatantly forgives male characters their faults and sins (or worse, flanderizes them), but Mary says one unpleasant word, and suddenly she's controversial.

I also want to point out that part of my issue is that the game itself doesn't present Mary as a bad guy or a character made to spark debate. She's very much laden with the tropes of a star-crossed romance, with class difference and bad timing preventing her from being with the man she loves. Like Arthur, she is also held back by a dysfunctional relationship with her father. I've said in the linked post above and in other places in my blogs that RDR2 presents many parallels to Mary's situation, and the women in those cases are always treated as tragic and sympathetic characters.

So imo hating her or coming away from her missions saying "I have complicated feelings toward Mary" is missing the point of her narrative function and seems to willfully ignore how the game is vocally on her side when it comes to her judgment wrt Arthur and his life. If you have a problem with Mary because of how she speaks or asserts herself, then you have to square that with why you don't hate the men with similar levels of assertiveness as much as you hate Mary. Barring that, ask yourself why you're not treating her like a character written by real human beings. If you have issues with her writing, then take it up with the writing staff. Point out, from an analytic perspective, why you find her characterization weak. IMO, I don't think Mary is badly written at all-- just underdeveloped (i.e., I would like more backstory on her to help flesh out and add nuance to her situation). But people who hate Mary won't treat what they oppose as writing flaws. They will praise RDR2 to high hell and back, calling it a perfect game only to then take issue with Mary as if she was a real person with her own sentience and existence independent of the game and its writing. Like no, RDR2 can't have perfect writing and then have a character you hate like she burned your crops. Pick a struggle!

[sokkastyles]

“Tell Me What Happened:” Zutara and the Female Gaze

I’ve seen some discourse about the male and female gaze, and I think some people misunderstand what these terms actually mean. So let’s go back a bit to the origins.

The term “the male gaze” was popularized by feminist film critic Laura Mulvey. In her essay, “Visual Pleasure in Narrative Cinema,” Mulvey uses the Hitchcock film Rear Window, which is a story that is entirely framed around the voyeurism of the main male character. There’s a point in the movie where the protagonist’s girlfriend, who had previously doubted the events the protagonist claimed to view out of his apartment window, which make up most of the action of the story, finally comes around to his way of seeing things, and delivers the very effective and famous line “Tell me exactly what you saw, and what you think it means.”

Most of the time when people talk about the male gaze, they refer to female characters being displayed as objects for an assumed male viewer. Mulvey argues that the way the character Lisa is portrayed in this movie does subject her to this voyeuristic interpretation, but it goes deeper than that. When Lisa is not the object being viewed, she is asked to see things through the perspective of the main male character. She originally doubts him, but eventually she is forced to view things from his perspective. Later in the movie, she becomes subject to the protagonist’s gaze as we see her on the other side of the binoculars. Her boyfriend, the character through which the movie establishes its viewpoint, watches her be threatened by another man and eventually she is saved.

The movie both invites the assumed male viewer to view Lisa as an object AND asks her, as the movie’s female protagonist, to view things through the lens of the male protagonist.

And that’s what most of the critiques I see of Katara and Aang’s relationship are about. Take “The Fortune Teller,” for example.

Many people have already talked about how "The Fortuneteller" treats Aang's crush on Katara vs Meng's crush on Aang, but I would like to point out what I think is a particularly egregious example of the male gaze in this episode.

This is Aang looking at Katara. We get the pan over her body with emphasis on how attractive Aang finds her to be. The lighting makes her look practically angelic.

Then, later in the episode, when we see Meng crush on Aang, we get a similar pan.

The joke is meant to contrast Katara's desirability with Aang's, yet we are supposed to root for Aang as he worries that Katara does not return his feelings.

The show is also making fun of Aang's crush on Katara by showing Aang's exaggerated perspective, but she still remains desirable in his view and to the camera. There is no undercutting of Aang's view of Katara the way the camera subverts Meng’s view of Aang. We are not asked to see Aang as desirable from a female perspective, which begs the question of what Katara should see in him if female desire is so, well...undesirable.

This is one of several places where the show is self aware enough to poke fun at the way Aang sees Katara, but still in the end totally validates him and the male gaze by only subverting it when the genders are flipped. Which isn't actually a subversion at all.

This is an example of the camera framing a female character as object of the male gaze, but it goes deeper than that. The male gaze isn’t just framing women as objects to be looked at, but inviting women to view themselves through the filter of the male gaze as well.

And therein, I would argue, is the appeal of zutara.

You could make a case that one of the reasons zutara is so popular is because the show does occasionally present Zuko as an object for the gaze of a female audience. The creators were aware at a certain point that there was a not insignificant portion of the fandom that was into Zuko.

But Zuko is never framed as an object of desirability for Katara.

What the show does do, though, is switch up the lens through which we are supposed to view the narrative. And the way this happens is directly tied to Katara’s relationship with Zuko.

Katara is, in a lot of ways, our narrator from the beginning. Her words are the first ones heard from episode one, telling us about the world and the war and the Avatar. Her narration is focused on Aang and his story. “I believe that Aang can save the world.”

Katara also has her own story, though, one she talks about throughout the series but mostly in relation to others. And it’s this story that she confronts Zuko with in the crystal caves, when she tells him that he has “no idea” what she has suffered, and she tells him about the death of her mother.

Zuko does something she doesn’t expect by apologizing and relating it to the loss of his own mother, but he still can’t fully commit to her side and ends up betraying their tentative truce. It’s when she confronts him with it again in “The Southern Raiders” that things start to shift.

Before that, Katara had used the death of her mother to empathize with other’s loss, and many times this is a male character. We’ve heard the story told many times. Sokka tells it to Toph to explain Katara to her.

When Zuko seeks out Sokka in “The Southern Raiders,” though, it is the first time that another character has asked to hear the story.

Zuko: I want you to tell me what happened to your mother.

Sokka tells Zuko the story and tells Zuko that it’s not something he likes to think about. This relates to how Katara and Sokka differently view what happened to their mother, and partially contributes to why Katara told Sokka that maybe he didn’t love her enough. For Sokka, the day of his mother’s murder is not something he wants to relive, but Katara is constantly forced to relive it.

“The Southern Raiders” contains three full flashbacks to Kya’s murder. First from Sokka’s viewpoint, then Katara herself as she is telling the story to Zuko. The last time we see the story play out, it is as Katara is standing in front of Yon Rha and confronting him with it, while Zuko looks on passively.

Here, the dynamic has shifted so that Katara is not only the one telling the story, but in the end she is also the one who gets to rewrite it, to define how it ends, and Zuko is the observer, much like Lisa in “Rear Window.” Tell me what you saw and what you think it means.

Zuko knows the importance of letting Katara give shape and meaning to this story because he himself tried to do the same with Ozai, who is the only one left to speak about what happened to Ursa.

Ozai: Don’t you want to know what happened to your mother?

That both of these narratives involve women being silenced emphasizes the reclamation of them as the shifting from a male gaze to a female one. That Zuko’s redemption is tied to such a shift is very interesting, especially given the elemental symbolism of fire = male and water = female. That “The Southern Raiders,” one of the most shippy episodes, involves Katara ignoring Aang’s attempts to define the situation and, in the episode’s climax, forcing two male characters to observe as she describes what happened to her mother, a woman she is so connected with, is significant. Katara directs both the gazes of Zuko and Yon Rha, and by extension the audience, just as she effortlessly directs the rain itself. The last time we see the memory retold it is Katara revealing the truth to Yon Rha, who thought he had killed the last waterbender. The fact that this episode was penned by a woman also emphasizes the power of reclaiming narratives with a female gaze.

[nellygwyn]

different anon, thoughts of harlots portrayal of historical sex work?

I got another anon asking for a similar thing so here it goes:

Season 1, in particular, I think, had a really nuanced approach to sex work, historical and contemporary. It says a lot that some of my friends who are full service sex workers felt it explored a lot of the complex thoughts they have about being sex workers. We had Charlotte and Emily who are both ambivalent and ambitious, practical, knowing that money is the most important thing in their world whilst also being unattainable for them in other socially acceptable careers (also, since I did my MA thesis on the rape of working class adolescent girls in Georgian London, where I basically found that working in a pub or as a servant in a house could just as unsavory, if not worse, as being a sex worker in the same time period, I like to think Charlotte in particular knows this very well and that's why she wants to control her own narrative so much). We also have Lucy, who hates it and is taken advantage of by her mother in many ways, and other characters who end up in the sex industry through ~Hogarthian~ methods i.e. tricked by a kindly older woman who turns out to be an unscrupulous brothel-keeper a la Mother Needham. This kind of thing certainly happened, though not as often as 18th century moralists might like you to think, but in the show, it plays into the overarching theme that this is a world where the people who should be looking after sex workers and making sure they aren't treated like shit literally do not care (which definitely mirrors our own times). Like, Emily likes sex work in many ways but when she experiences awful aspects of it? It's always because of powerful people letting other powerful people do whatever they want to these women....the only thing outside forces ever seem to do is moralise or take away their money, or punish them. People who have the power to actually transform the system are basically useless, except Josiah in S2 who initially starts off as useless but does later try to make amends.....he's just not powerful ENOUGH though.

I do wish they hadn't made so much of the '1 in 5 women in Georgian London sell sex' because....that's not necessarily a false statistic but it doesn't actually just include sex workers, it also includes women who lived with men they weren't married to which could've been a financial arrangement or could've been simply women living with long term partners. It also includes women who dabbled in sex work, which was extremely common in a world where other, more socially acceptable jobs for working women didn't always pay very well. We know that a lot of women who were in domestic service in Georgian London also had what we might call 'a side hustle' as sex workers, specifically strollers and bunters (sex workers who didn't work in a brothel and usually picked up clients/did work on the streets). I think Harlots did a good job of showing us like, sex workers who work in brothels but also more independent sex workers like Nancy and Violet, but it would've been nice to have a character who was a maid in a middle class home most of the time but occasionally dabbled in sex work in the late evening. It would've emphasised the theme of money being important and barely within reach, but also would've shown the reality of women's work in this period OUTSIDE OF sex work.

The diversity of the industry was also good, although it's a shame that the show kind of failed at showing us male sex workers, or queer sex workers - I mean, we did see mollies (contemporary name for gay men sex workers) but not in a particularly meaningful way imo. Plus, we could've had a trans woman sex worker, especially as there is precedent in this period! Princess Serefina, for example, was probably a transgender woman and one of the most famous sex workers of the early 18th century. But I think Harlots did show us the amount of women of colour who not only lived in Georgian London, but who worked there and not just as sex workers. We also had sex workers with disabilities, too. One of my favourite details is that Harriet Lennox is inspired by a real Georgian sex worker called Black Harriet who only employed sex workers of colour at her brothel (which Harriet Lennox also does in S2 and 3). And there is quite an admirable attempt to explore intersectionality in the series - Harriet doesn't just experience sexism but pretty awful racism (I mean, she literally used to be enslaved by the first man who made her his mistress)....and this changes the way she experiences the world.

My biggest criticism is of the way Charlotte was killed off. Well, first of all, I have an issue with the fact Season 3 put her in a relationship with a pimp, which is so fucked up on every level. Like, not even just a pimp but a pimp who tried to kill her and the women she lives with. Then, she ends up being ACTUALLY killed off by said pimp and his brother (also a pimp) in the most deranged way possible a.k.a getting in the way of a fight and being pushed down the stairs. So many stories about sex workers, historical and contemporary, employ the 'Dead Hooker' trope and I hate it and I especially hate it for this time period because dying violently or tragically as a sex worker doesn't have much basis in reality. Charlotte specifically was inspired by famous courtesans of the time like Kitty Fisher and Fanny Murray. Both of whom......met someone who was willing to keep them long term/marry them and left the industry, financially stable and contented. This series wanted to honour women like that but I don't understand how it could do that by killing Charlotte violently (and other characters violently). We know that most sex workers left the industry around their mid twenties, usually because they had found a long term keeper/husband or because they became actresses/singers in the London theatres (a job that had strong links to sex work and courtesanry at the time). There were so many options for Charlotte but the writers picked that one, as her exit. It just brings us back to the fact that for some people, sex workers don't deserve any kind of happy ending. In fact, John Cleland, the writer of the scandalous c. 1749 erotic novel 'Fanny Hill,' had his book banned and criticised not just because it was obscene but because Fanny never repents her life as a sex worker. Instead, she marries a decent man and has a decent life and explictly says she doesn't feel bad or upset about her old job. Like, that's an example from the actual time period so imagine my disappointment when history seemed to repeat itself in a period series c. 2019.

[thecaffeinebookwarrior]

The Importance of Antiheroes

By Brooksie C. Fontaine (me) and Sara R. McKearney 

Few tropes are as ubiquitous as that of the hero. He takes the form of Superman, ethically and non-lethally thwarting Lex Luthor. Of Luke Skywalker, gazing wistfully at twin suns and waiting for his adventure to begin. In pre-Eastwood era films, a white Stetson made the law-abiding hero easily distinguishable from his black-hatted antagonists. He is Harry Potter, Jon Snow, T’Challa, Simba. He is of many incarnations, he is virtually inescapable, and he serves a necessary function: he reminds us of what we can achieve, and that regardless of circumstance, we can choose to be good. We need our heroes, and always will.

But equally vital to the life-blood of any culture is his more nebulous and difficult to define counterpart: the antihero. Whereas the hero is defined, more or less, by his morality and exceptionalism, the antihero doesn’t cleanly meet these criteria. Where the hero tends to be confident and self-assured, the antihero may have justifiable insecurities. While the hero has faith in the goodness of humanity, the anthero knows from experience how vile humans can be. While the hero typically respects and adheres to authority figures and social norms, the antihero may rail against them for any number of reasons. While the hero always embraces good and rejects evil, the antihero may do either. And though the hero might always be buff, physically capable, and mentally astute, the antihero may be average or below.  The antihero scoffs at the obligation to be perfect, and our culture's demand for martyrdom. And somehow, he is at least as timeless and enduring as his sparklingly heroic peers. 

Which begs the question: where did the antihero come from, and why do we need him?

The Birth of the Anti-Hero:

It is worth noting that many of the oldest and most enduring heroes would now be considered antiheroes. The Greek Heracles was driven to madness, murdered his family, and upon recovering had to complete a series of tasks to atone for his actions. Theseus, son of Poseidon and slayer of the Minotaur, straight-up abandoned the woman who helped him do it. And we all know what happened to Oedipus, whose life was so messed up he got a complex named after him. 

And this isn’t just limited to Ancient Greece: before he became a god, the Mesoamerican Quetzalcoatl committed suicide after drunkenly sleeping with his sister. The Mesopotamian Gilgamesh – arguably the first hero in literature – began his journey as a slovenly, hedonistic tyrant. Shakespearian heroes were denoted with an equal number of gifts and flaws – the cunning but paranoid Hamlet, the honorable but gullible Othello, the humble but power-hungry MacBeth – which were just as likely to lead to their downfall as to their apotheosis.

There’s probably a definitive cause for our current definition of hero as someone who’s squeaky clean: censorship. With the birth of television and film as we know it, it was, for a time, illegal to depict criminals as protagonists, and law enforcement as antagonists. The perceived morality of mainstream cinema was also strictly monitored, limiting what could be portrayed. Bonnie and Clyde, The Good the Bad and the Ugly, Scarface, The Godfather, Goodfellas, and countless other cinematic staples prove that such policies did not endure, but these censorship laws divorced us, culturally, from the moral complexity of our most resonant heroes. 

Perhaps because of the nature of the medium, literature arguably has never been as infatuated with moral purity as its early cinematic and T.V. counterparts. From the Byronic male love interests of the Bronte sisters, to “Doctor” Frankenstein (that little college dropout never got a PhD), to Dorian Grey, to Anna Karenina, to Scarlett O’Hara, to Holden Caulfield, literature seems to thrive on morally and emotionally complex individuals and situations. Superman punching a villain and saving Lois Lane is compelling television, but doesn’t make for a particularly thought-provoking read. 

It is also worth noting, however, that what we now consider to be universal moral standards were once met with controversy: Superman’s story and real name – Kal El – are distinctly Jewish, in which his doomed parents were forced to send him to an uncertain future in a foreign culture. Captain America punching Nazis now seems like a no-brainer, but at the time it was not a popular opinion, and earned his Jewish creators a great deal of controversy. So in a manner of speaking, some of the most morally upstanding heroes are also antiheroes, in that they defied society’s rules. 

This brings us to our concluding point: that anti-heroes can be morally good. The complex and sometimes tragic heroes of old, and today’s antiheroes, are not necessarily immoral, but must often make difficult choices, compromises, and sacrifices. They are flawed, fallible, and can sometimes lead to their own downfall. But sometimes, they triumph, and we can cheer them for it. This is what makes their stories so powerful, so relatable, and so necessary to the fabric of our culture. So without further ado, let’s have a look at some of pop-culture’s most interesting antiheroes, and what makes them so damn compelling. 

Note:  For the purposes of this essay, we will only be looking at male antiheroes. Because the hero’s journey is traditionally so male-oriented, different standards of subversiveness, morality, and heroism apply to female protagonists, and the antiheroine deserves an article all her own.

Antiheroes show us the negative effects of systematic inequalities (and what they can do to gifted people.) 

As demonstrated by: Tommy Shelby from Peaky Blinders.

Why he could be a hero: He’s incredibly charismatic, intelligent, and courageous. He deeply cares for his loved ones, has a strict code of honor, reacts violently to the mistreatment of innocents, and demonstrates surprisingly high levels of empathy. 

Why he’s an antihero: He also happens to be a ruthless, incredibly violent crime lord who regularly slashes out his enemies’ eyes. 

What he can teach us: From the moment Tommy Shelby makes his entrance, it becomes apparent that Peaky Blinders will not unfold like the archetypical crime drama. Evocative of the outlaw mythos of the Old West, Tommy rides across a smoky, industrialized landscape. He is immaculately dressed, bareback, on a magnificent black horse. A rogue element, his presence carries immediate power, causing pedestrians to hurriedly clear a path. You get the sense that he does not conform to this time or era, nor does he abide by the rules of society.

The ONLY acceptable way to introduce a protagonist.

Set in the decades between World War I and II, Peaky Blinders differentiates itself from its peers, not just because of its distinctive, almost Shakespearian style of storytelling, powerful visual style, and use of contemporary music, but also in the manner in which it shows that society provokes the very criminality it attempts to vanquish. Moreover, it dedicates time to demonstrating why this form of criminality is sometimes the only option for success in an unfair system. When the law wants to keep you relegated to the station in which you were born, success almost inevitably means breaking the rules. Tommy is considered one of the most influential characters of the decade because of the manner in which he embodies this phenomenon, and the reason why antiheroes pervade folklore across the decades.

Peaky Blinders engenders a unique level of empathy within its first episodes, in which we are not just immersed in the glamour of the gangster lifestyle, but we understand the background that provoked it. Tommy, who grew up impoverished and discriminated against due to his “didicoy” Romany background, volunteered to fight for his country, and went to war as a highly intelligent, empathetic young man. He returned with the knowledge that the country he had served had essentially used him and others like him as canon fodder, with no regard for their lives, well-being, or future. Such veterans were often looked down upon or disregarded by a society eager to forget the war. Having served as a tunneler – regarded to be the worst possible position in a war already beset by unprecedented brutality – Tommy’s constant proximity to death not only destroyed his faith in authority, but also his fear of mortality. This absence of fear and deference, coupled with his incredible intelligence, ambition, ruthlessness, and strategic abilities, makes him a dangerous weapon, now pointed at the very society that constructed him to begin with. 

It is also difficult to critique Tommy’s criminality, when we take into account that society would have completely stifled him if he had abided by its rules. As someone of Romany heritage, he was raised in abject poverty, and never would have been admitted into situations of higher social class. Even at his most powerful, we see the disdain his colleagues have at being obligated to treat him as an equal. In one particularly powerful scene, he begins shoveling horse manure, explaining that, “I’m reminding myself of what I’d be if I wasn’t who I am.” If he hadn’t left behind society’s rules, his brilliant mind would be occupied only with cleaning stables.

However, the necessity of criminality isn’t depicted as positive: it is one of the greatest tragedies of the narrative that society does not naturally reward the most intelligent or gifted, but instead rewards those born into positions of unjust privilege, and those who are willing to break the rules with intelligence and ruthlessness. Each year, the trauma of killing, nearly being killed, and losing loved ones makes Tommy’s PTSD increasingly worse, to the point at which he regularly contemplates suicide. Cillian Murphy has remarked that Tommy gets little enjoyment out of his wealth and power, doing what he does only for his family and “because he can.” Steven Knight cites the philosophy of Francis Bacon as a driving force behind Tommy’s psychology: “Since it’s all so meaningless, we might as well be extraordinary.” 

This is further complicated when it becomes apparent that the upper class he’s worked so arduously to join is not only ruthlessly exclusionary, but also more corrupt than he’s ever been. There are no easy answers, no easy to pinpoint sources of societal or personal issues, no easy divisibility of positive and negative. This duality is something embraced by the narrative, and embodied by its protagonist. An intriguingly androgynous figure, Tommy emulated the strength and tenacity of the women in his life, particularly his mother; however, he also internalized her application of violence, even laughing about how she used to beat him with a frying pan. His family is his greatest source of strength and his greatest weakness, often exploited by his enemies who realize they cannot fall back on his fear of mortality. He feels emotions more strongly than the other characters, and ironically must numb himself to the world around him in order to cope with it.

However, all hope is not lost. Creator Steven Knight has stated that his hope is ultimately to redeem Tommy, so by the show’s end he is “a good man doing good things.” There are already whispers of what this may look like: as an MP, Tommy cares for Birmingham and its citizens far more than any “legitimate” politicians, meeting with them personally to ensure their needs are met; as of last season, he attempted a Sinatra-style assassination of a rising fascist simply because it was the right thing to do. “Goodness” is an option in the world of Peaky Blinders; the only question is what form it will take on a landscape plagued by corruption at every turn. 

Regardless of what form his “redemption” might take, it’s negligible that Tommy will ever meet all the criteria of an archetypal hero as we understand it today. He is far more evocative of the heroes of Ancient Greece, of the Old West, of the Golden Age of Piracy, of Feudal Japan – ferocious, magnitudinous figures who move and make the earth turn with them, who navigate the ever-changing landscapes of society and refuse to abide by its rules, simultaneously destructive and life-affirming. And that’s what makes him so damn compelling.

Who needs traditional morality, when you look this damn good?

Other examples: 

Alfie Solomons from Peaky Blinders. Tommy’s friend and sometimes mortal enemy, the two develop an intriguing, almost romantic connection due to their shared experiences of oppression and powerful intellects. Steven Knight has referred to Alfie as “the only person Tommy can really talk to,” possibly because he is Tommy’s only intellectual equal, resulting in a strange form of spiritual matrimony between the two.

Omar Little from The Wire, an oftentimes tender and compassionate man who cares deeply for his loved ones, and does his best to promote morality and idealism in a society which offers him few viable methods of doing so. He may rob drug dealers at gunpoint, but he also refuses to harm innocents, dislikes swearing, and views his actions as a method of decreasing crime in the area. 

Chiron from Moonlight, a sensitive and empathetic young man who became a drug dealer because society had provided him with virtually no other options for self-sustenance. The same could be said for Chiron’s mentor and father figure, Juan, a kind and nurturing man who is also a drug dealer. 

To a lesser extent, Tony from The Sopranos, and other fictional Italian American gangsters. The Sopranos often negotiates the roots of mob culture as a response to  inequalities, while also holding its characters accountable for their actions by pointing out that Tony and his ilk are now rich and privileged and face little systematic discrimination.

Walter White from Breaking Bad – an underpaid, chronically disrespected teacher who has to work two jobs and still can’t afford to pay for medical treatment. More on him on the next page. 

Antiheroes show us how we can be the villains. 

As demonstrated by: Walter White from Breaking Bad. 

Why he could be a hero: He’s a brilliant, underappreciated chemist whose work contributed to the winning of a Nobel Prize. He’s also forging his own path in the face of incredible adversity, and attempting to provide for his family in the event of his death.

Why he’s an antihero: In his pre-meth days, Walt failed to meet the exceptionalism associated with heroes, as a moral but socially passive underachiever living an unremarkable life. At the end of his transformation, he is exceptional at what he does, but has completely lost his moral standards.

What he can teach us: G.K. Chesterton wrote, “Fairy tales do not tell children that the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.” Following this analogy, it is equally important that our stories show us we, ourselves, can be the dragon. Or the villain, to be more specific, because being a dragon sounds strangely awesome.

Walter White of Breaking Bad is a paragon of antiheroism for a reason: he subverts almost every traditional aspect of heroism. From the opening shots of Walt careening along in an RV, clad in tighty whities and a gas mask, we recognize that he is neither physically capable, nor competent in the manner we’ve come to expect from our heroes. He is not especially conventionally attractive, nor are women particularly drawn to him. He does not excel at his career or garner respect. As the series progresses, Walt does develop the competence, confidence, courage, and resilience we expect of heroes, but he is no longer the moral protagonist: he is self-motivated, vindictive, and callous. And somehow, he still remains identifiable, which is integral to his efficacy.

But let us return to the beginning of the series, and talk about how, exactly, Walt subverts our expectations from the get-go. Walt is the epitome of an everyman: he’s fifty years old, middle class, passive, and worried about identifiable problems – his health, his bills, his physically disabled son, and his unborn baby. Whereas Tommy Shelby’s angelic looks, courage, and intellect subvert our preconceptions about what a criminal can be, Walt’s initial unremarkability subverts our preconceptions about who can be a criminal. The hook of the series is the idea that a man so chronically average could make and distribute meth.

Just because an audience is hooked by a concept, however, does not mean that they’ll necessarily continue watching. Breaking Bad could have easily veered into ludicrosity, if it weren’t for another important factor: character. Walt is immediately and intensely relatable, and he somehow retains our empathy for the entirety of the series, even at his least forgivable.

When we first meet Walt, his talents are underappreciated, he’s overqualified for his menial jobs, chronically disrespected by everyone around him, underpaid, and trapped in a joyless, passionless life in which the highlight of his day is a halfhearted handjob from his distracted wife. And to top it all off? He has terminal lung cancer. Happy birthday, Walt.

We root for him for the same reason we root for Dumbo, Rudolph, Harry Potter: he’s an underdog. The odds are stacked against him, and we want to see him triumph. Which is why it’s cathartic, for us and for Walt, when he finally finds a profession in which he can excel – even if that profession is the ability to manufacture incredibly high-quality meth. His former student Jesse Pinkman – a character so interesting that there’s a genuine risk he’ll hijack this essay – appreciates his skill, and this early appreciation is what makes his relationship with Jesse feel so much more genuine than Walt’s relationship with his family, even as their dynamic becomes increasingly unhealthy and Walt uses Jesse to bolster his meth business and his ego. This deeply dysfunctional but heartfelt father-son connection is Walt’s tether to humanity as he becomes increasingly inhumane, while also demonstrating his descent from morality. It has been pointed out that one can gauge how far-gone Walt is from his moral ideals by how much Jesse is suffering.

But to return to the initial point, it is imperative that we first empathize with Walt in order to adequately understand his descent. Aside from the fact that almost all characters are more interesting if the audience can or wants to empathize with them, Walt’s relatability makes it easy to understand our own potential for toxic and destructive behaviors. We are the protagonist of our own story, but we aren’t necessarily its hero.

Similarly, we understand how easily we can justify destructive actions, and how quickly reasonable feelings of anger and injustice swerve into self-indulgent vindication and entitlement. Walt claims to be cooking meth to provide for his family, and this may be partially true; but he also denies financial help from his rich friends out of spite, and admits later to his wife Skylar that he primarily did it for himself because he was good at it and “it made (him) feel alive.”

This also forces us to examine our preconceptions, and essentially do Walt’s introspections for him: whereas Peaky Blinders emphasize the fact that Tommy and his family would never have been able to achieve prosperity by obeying society’s laws, Walt feels jilted out of success he was promised by a meritocratic system that doesn’t currently exist. He has essentially achieved our current understanding of the American dream – a house with a pool, a beautiful wife and family, an honest job – but it left him unable to provide for his wife and children or even pay for his cancer treatment. He’s also unhappy and alienated from his passions and fellow human beings. With this in mind, it’s understandable – if absurd – that the only way he can attain genuine happiness and excel is through becoming a meth cook. In this way, Breaking Bad is both a scathing critique of our current society, and a haunting reminder that there’s not as much standing between ourselves and villainy as we might like to believe.  

So are we all slaves to this system of entitlement and resentment, of shattered and unfulfilling dreams? No, because Breaking Bad provides us with an intriguing and vital counterpoint: Jesse Pinkman. Whereas Walt was bolstered with promises that he was gifted and had a bright future ahead of him, Jesse was assured by every authority figure in his life that he would never amount to anything. However, Jesse proves himself skilled at what he’s passionate about: art, carpentry, and of course, cooking meth. Whereas Walt perpetually rationalizes and shirks responsibility, Jesse compulsively takes responsibility, even for things that weren’t his fault. Whereas Walt found it increasingly acceptable to endanger or harm bystanders, Jesse continuously worked to protect innocents – especially children – from getting hurt. Though Jesse suffered immensely throughout the course of the show – and the subsequent movie, El Camino – the creators say that he successfully made it to Alaska and started a carpentry business. Some theorists have supposed that Jesse might be a Jesus allegory – a carpenter who suffers for the sins of others. Regardless of whether this is true, it is interesting, and amusing to imagine Jesus using the word “bitch” so often. Though he didn’t get the instant gratification of immediate success that Walt got, he was able to carve (no pun intended – carpentry, you know) a place for himself in the world. 

Jesse isn’t a perfect person, but he reminds us that improving ourselves and creating a better life is an option, even if Walt’s rise to power was more initially thrilling. So take heart: there’s a bit of Heisenberg in all of us, but there’s also a bit of Jesse Pinkman. 

The savior we all need, but don’t deserve.

Other examples:

Bojack from Bojack Horseman. Like Walt, the audience can’t help but empathize with Bojack, understand his decision-making, and even see ourselves in him. However, the narrative ruthlessly demonstrates the consequences of his actions, and shows us how negatively his selfishness and self-destructive qualities impact others.   

Again, Tony Soprano. Tony, even at his very worst, is easy to like and empathize with. Despite his position as a mafia Godfather, he’s unfailingly human. Which makes the destruction caused by his actions all the more resonant.

Antiheroes emphasize the absurdity of contemporary culture (and how we must operate in it.)

As demonstrated by: Marty Byrde from Ozark.

Why he could be a hero: He’s a loving father who ultimately just wants to provide for and ensure the safety of his family. He’s also fiercely intelligent, with excellent negotiative, interpersonal, and strategic skills that allows him to talk his way out of almost any situation without the use of violence.

Why he’s an antihero: He launders money for a ruthless drug cartel, and has no issue dipping his toes into various illegal activities.

Why he’s compelling: Marty is an antihero of the modern era. He has a remarkable ability to talk his way into or out of any situation, and he’s also a master of using a pre-constructed system of rules and privileges to his benefit.

In the very first episode, he goes from literally selling the American Dream, to avoiding murder at the hands of a ruthless drug cartel by planning to launder money for them in the titular Ozarks. Despite his long history of dabbling in illegality, Marty has no firearms – a questionable choice for someone on the run from violent drug kingpins, but a testament to his ability to rely on his oratory skills and nothing else. He doesn’t hesitate to engage an apparently violent group of hillbillies to request the return of his stolen cash, because he knows he can talk them into giving it back to him. The only time he engages other characters in physical violence, he immediately gets pummeled, because physical altercation has never been his form of currency. Not that he’s subjected to physical violence particularly often, either: Marty is a master of the corporate landscape, which makes him a master of the criminal landscape. He is brilliant at avoiding the consequences of his actions. 

It’s easy to like and admire Marty for his cleverness, for being able to escape from apparently impermeable situations with words as his only weapon. He’s got a reassuring, dad-ly sort of charisma that immediately endears the viewer, and offers respite from the seemingly endless threats coming from every direction. He unquestionably loves his family, including his adulterous wife. As such, it’s easy to forget that Marty is being exploited by the same system that exploits all of us: crony capitalism. The polar opposite of meritocratic capitalism – in which success is based on hard work, ingenuity, and, hence the name, merit – crony capitalism benefits only the conglomerates that plague the global landscape like cancerous warts, siphoning money off of workers and natural capital, keeping them indentured with basic necessities and the idle promise of success.

Marty isn’t benefiting from his hard work in the Ozarks. Everything he makes goes right back to the drug cartel who continuously threatens the life of him and his family. He is rewarded for his efforts with a picturesque house, a boat, and the appearance of success, but he is not allowed to keep the fruits of his labor. Marty may be an expert at navigating the corporate and criminal landscape, but it still exploits him. In this manner, Marty embodies both the American business, the American worker, and a sort of inversion of the American dream.

In this same manner, Marty, the other characters, and even the Ozarks themselves embody the modern dissonance between appearance and reality. Marty’s family looks like something you’d respect to see on a Christmas card from your DILF-y, successful coworker, but it’s bubbling with dysfunctionality. His wife is cheating on him with a much-older man, and instead of confronting her about it, he first hired a private investigator and then spent weeks rewatching the footage, paralyzed with options and debating what to do. The problem somewhat solves itself when his wife’s lover is unceremoniously murdered by the cartel, and Wendy and Marty are driven into a sort of matrimonial business partnership motivated by the shared interest of protecting their children, but this also further demonstrates how corporate even their family dealings have become. His children, though precocious, are forced to contend with age-inappropriate levels of responsibility and the trauma of sudden relocation, juxtaposed with a childhood of complete privilege up until this point.

Conversely, the shadow of the Byrde family is arguably the Langmores. Precocious teenagers Ruth and Wyatt can initially be shrugged off as local hillbillies and budding con-artists, but much like the Shelby family of the Peaky Blinders, they prove to be extremely intelligent individuals suffering beneath a society that doesn’t care about their stifled potential. Systemic poverty is a bushfire that spreads from one generation to the next, stoked by the prejudices of authority figures and abusive parental figures who refuse to embrace change out of a misguided sense of class-loyalty. 

Almost every other character we meet eventually inverts our expectations of them: from the folksy, salt-of-the-earth farmers who grow poppies for opium and murder more remorselessly than the cartel itself, to the cookie-cutter FBI agent whose behavior becomes increasingly volatile and chaotic, to the heroin-filled Bibles handed out by an unknowing preacher, to the secrets hidden by the lake itself, every detail conveys corruption hidden behind a postcard-pretty picture of tranquility and success.

Marty’s awareness of this illusion, and what lurks behind it, is perhaps the greatest subversion of all. Marty knows that the world of appearance and the world of reality coexist, and he was blessed with a natural talent for navigating within the two. Like Walter White, Marty makes us question our assumptions about who a criminal can be – despite the fact that many successful, attractive, middle-aged family men launder money and juggle criminal activities, it’s still jarring to witness, which tells us something about how image informs our understanding of reality. Socially privileged, white-collar criminals simply have more control over how they’re portrayed than an inner-city gang, or impoverished teenagers. However, unlike Walt, Marty’s criminal activities are not any kind of middle-aged catharsis: they’re a way of life, firmly ingrained in the corporate landscape. They were present long before he arrived on the scene, and he knows it. He just has to navigate them. 

Just like our shining, messianic heroes can teach us about truth, justice, and the American way, so too does each antihero have something to teach us: they teach us that society doesn’t reward those who follow its instructions, nor does it often provide an avenue of morality. Even if you live a life devoid of apparent sin, every privilege is paid for by someone else’s sacrifice. But the best antiheroes are not beacons of nihilism – they show us the beauty that can emerge from even the ugliest of situations. Peaky Blinders is, at its core, a love story between Tommy Shelby and the family he crawled out of his grave for, just as Breaking Bad is ultimately a deeply dysfunctional tale of a father figure and son. Ozark, like its predecessors, is about family – the only authenticity in a society that operates on deception, illusion, and corruption. They teach us that even in the worst times and situations, love can compel us, redeem us, bind us closer together. Only then can we face the dragons of life, and feel just a bit more heroic.

Other examples:

Don Draper from Mad Men. A similarly Shakespearian figure for the modern era, Don is a man who appears to have everything – perfect looks, a beautiful wife and children, a prestigious job. He could have stepped out of an ad for the American Dream. And yet, he feels disconnected from his life, isolated from others by the very societal rules he, as a member of the ad agency, helps to propagate. It helps that he’s literally leading a borrowed life, inherited from the stolen identity of his deceased fellow soldier, and was actually an impoverished, illegitimate farmboy whose childhood abuse permanently damaged his ability to form relationships. The Hopper-esque alienation evoked by the world of Mad Men really deserves an essay all it’s own, and his wife Betty – whose Stepford-level mask of cheerful subservience hides seething unhappiness and unfulfilled potential – is a particularly intriguing figure to explore. Maybe in my next essay, on the importance of the antiheroine.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

I find it really intriguing how the ATLA writers could have gone a “brotherly love” route with Zuko and Aang, but they never did. Even in LOK, the only thing that I remember Iroh saying about their relationship was that they canonically became the best of friends and that Zuko knew Aang better than anyone, even more than Katara and their children. I find the direction of their relationship a contrast to how often the bond between the male protagonist and the male antagonist that are spiritually linked in other media is reduced to “they were like brothers” and put aside for the respective heterosexual romances of the leads, even though the relationships between the leads often have homoerotic subtext and can be interpreted through a queer lens. I guess what I’m wondering is: would you classify Zuko and Aang’s relationship as brotherly? Do you support interpretations where their relationship is viewed as brotherly? And finally (I’m sorry for all of the questions): why do you think the ATLA writers - who seem to mostly be composed of cishet men - never took the “brotherly love” route and left the nature of their relationship ambiguous?

This ask has been in my inbox for a Hot Minute 💀 my apologies, my friend. And since I haven’t seen LOK, I won’t try to speak on the front. Before I continue, though, @likealittleheartbeat has an AMAZING analysis here about the interpretation of Aang and Zuko’s relationship through a queer-platonic lens that I found to be an incredible read and arguably could answer this ask on its own, lol!

I guess the general “issue” that must be addressed to answer these questions is simply how we define brotherly. That “we” can be divided into the viewers and the writers, only adding another layer of complexity. Because the reality is that we can’t jump into the creators minds and see exactly how they intended Zuko and Aang’s relationship to be interpreted. We can make deductions, e.g. the existence of Kataang and Maiko suggests Zuko and Aang were not intended to have a romantic relationship within canon (duh, lol). In fact, you could even add another division to the “we” - the writers, the viewers, and the characters themselves (i.e. interpretation through the cultural lenses that inspired the show).

All of this is to say that there is not going to be one agreed-upon definition of “brotherly,” lol! Since you seem to be asking for my personal opinions, I’ll go with my personal definition. If anyone has differing thoughts in response to these questions, please feel free to add them in a comment or rb! I think there’s a lot to explore here and my sole opinion is Not the be-all and end-all, lmao.

So, what is my personal definition of “brotherly”? I’m not going to try to make a formal definition, lol, but the gist of my interpretation is a platonic relationship akin to that of siblings. To me, there is a difference between having a “brotherly relationship” with someone versus a “friendship” (I almost used “friendly relationship” but that didn’t feel right jskdfhakdls). I think these two can overlap and/or be the same, but - for example - I have friends who I would say without hesitation that I am incredibly close with, but I also would not classify that friendship as “sisterly.” (Again, these are strictly my personal thoughts, and I encourage further discussion in comments/rbs!)

I’ll take your questions one at a time:

Would you classify Zuko and Aang’s relationship as brotherly?

Personally? Probably not. To me, there is a sense of superficiality associated with the term “brotherly” that in my eyes can be reductive to platonic relationships between men (can be, not always lol). I think with Zuko and Aang, the relationship just runs much deeper than “brotherly” can connote. For one, they are the primary narrative foils of the show! The only relationship that comes close to theirs in terms of narrative significance is Kataang (which is a very different dichotomy, btw, I’m not trying to compare them lol). We have numerous episodes dedicated to the parallels between Aang and Zuko, including but not limited to “The Storm” and “The Avatar and the Fire Lord.” I mean, this is an actual quote from the latter episode:

Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?

We see variants of this line and the notion of friendship itself associated throughout that episode explicitly with Roku and Sozin, Roku and Gyatso, and of course the Gaang at the end, but implicitly we also know it’s about Aang and Zuko, too. Aang says, “Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation, have to be treated like they’re worth giving a chance.” One common take with this line that I’ve seen is interpreting it as foreshadowing for Aang’s decision to spare Ozai - which obviously is a fair assessment - but we cannot also ignore how much it applies to Zuko joining the Gaang. Specifically, Zuko reconciling with Aang.

We all know Aang was the first person to extend friendship to Zuko back in “The Blue Spirit” and tbh, after he saw Appa licking Zuko, you can tell Aang was nearly willing to extend a second chance to Zuko then and there lol. Aang and Zuko’s friendship, them being drawn together, is a relationship that transcends lifetimes, transcends social norms/expectations, transcends a loss greater than anyone can imagine (for Aang) and offers a new opportunity arguably far more than deserved (for Zuko). I think ascribing a qualifier of “brotherly” to their relationship therefore limits this transcendence because of how much their dynamic encompasses.

Do you support interpretations where their relationship is viewed as brotherly?

Of course! One of the reasons I love A:TLA - especially my small corner of the fandom - is how many interpretations that every relationship presents, be it a small “difference” (such as calling Zuko and Aang’s relationship “brotherly”) or a more drastic one (exploring fanon possibilities with rarepairs, let’s go #AangRarepairWeek 😎). So even if this interpretation isn’t one I’m inclined to in the literal sense (i.e. it’s the “brotherly” qualifier I feel I dislike, because I do love platonic Zukaang as much as romantic Zukaang), I absolutely encourage others to make the most of their fandom experience and product/support content that they enjoy!

Why do you think the ATLA writers - who seem to mostly be composed of cishet men - never took the “brotherly love” route and left the nature of their relationship ambiguous?

I will say that we don’t really have any way of knowing the sexualities and gender identities of every single A:TLA writer, lol. I’m not saying they were all queer in some way, of course, but I just want to establish that we don’t and can’t know unless told. If that makes sense 😂

As I mentioned earlier, I have no way of getting inside the writers’ minds to determine their intentions when they were writing Zuko and Aang’s relationship, so all you’re gonna get here are my best guesses lmao! For one, there wasn’t really a need to outright label Zuko and Aang as having a “brotherly” relationship. The existence of Kataang and Maiko again speak for themselves. Most viewers - especially casual watchers - don’t need the show to state “these two only love each other in a brotherly way” to conclude that the relationship was platonic (or rather, was not romantic), especially considering that the show was made in the mid-2000s (i.e. sad but true, most people weren’t watching A:TLA with a queer lens 😔). So I wouldn’t say they left the relationship “ambiguous” so much as there wasn’t need to qualify it further than simply being platonic.

Of course, I do think there is an ambiguity that comes with Aang and Zuko’s relationship, which I love to exploit in my Zukaang fics 😌. Was that ambiguity intentional? Again, I’m inclined to say no. But I can’t speak with certainty and - as I discussed earlier - I truly think Aang and Zuko’s relationship would be limited by being called “brotherly” when their connection runs so deeply and is intertwined so heavily with the spiritual themes of the show. Thus, it’s possible the writers were purposefully emphasizing that spirituality by not labelling them as “brotherly”! But as I said, there’s really no way to be sure.

At the end of the day, I don’t think it matters how someone chooses to label Aang and Zuko’s relationship. I mean, I’m always a little horrified when a person completely overlooks their narrative significance as foils (because I personally can’t imagine dismissing either of their importance to the other), but hey, to each their own. Brotherly, queerplatonic, romantic, and hell, anything in-between - these interpretations are anyone’s for the taking. Have fun with it! 💛

(I hope this at least kind of resembles the answer you were looking for, anon 😂)

[hellsbellschime]

Ok, so I’ve always noticed some of the racism on TVD , most notably the treatment of Marcel and Emily, and the founders day parade episode (which, as a Virginian I have to say that the episode made me low-key ashamed when I re-watched it years later). But it took me a while to catch onto the racism on Bonnie‘s character. I was wondering if you have done a meta about it and could link me to it, or if you could do one?

Well it only took me like a year but here ya go!

Despite the fact that The Vampire Diaries is a show that was ostensibly created for girls and young women, the show undeniably seems to lack a certain level of respect or basic interest in its female characters. And while every single significant female character demonstrates that misogynistic point of view in one way or another, one of the most unique, distinct, and apparent instances of The Vampire Diaries' sexism is on peak display with one of it's leading female characters, Bonnie Bennett.

Bonnie obviously occupies a particularly interesting role in the series because she's the only black leading character, and it's also hard to miss that The Vampire Diaries universe has a pretty apparent issue with it's non-white characters as well.

The race problem on TVD expresses itself in a few different, extremely blatant ways. The most obvious issue with people of color on The Vampire Diaries is that those who are actually PoC within the narrative itself are typically pushed to the sidelines and relegated to supporting players at best, but there is also an issue with presenting PoC performers who are white-passing as white characters.

None of the PoC characters in The Vampire Diaries get very good treatment, but the series seems to be exceptionally problematic when it comes to its presentation of black characters. While black people arguably get more representation than any other non-white characters in this fictional world, they are almost all outrageously attractive, extremely light-skinned, and conveniently lacking in any emotional needs or inner life that needs to be addressed within the narrative, seemingly designed to show up, perform whatever service is necessary, and once again fade into the background if not just be killed off entirely.

This is an issue with every black character in the series, but given that Bonnie is the most significant and prominent in the series, it comes as no surprise that she was affected the most intensely by these biases. It's one thing to be a black character, it's one thing to be a female character, but being a black female character in the TVD universe is exceptionally crippling. But how exactly did the misogynoir of The Vampire Diaries completely neutralize Bonnie Bennett as a character?

Bonnie was mistreated, dismissed, and outright ignored in many big and small ways throughout the course of the show. But, a lot of that treatment can be pretty easily sorted into a few categorizations. The Vampire Diaries went through a pretty seismic shift from the start of the show to the end, but it has always been a series that falls primarily into two genres, the supernatural thriller genre and the romance genre.

The show pretty clearly transformed from a show that was firstly a supernatural story with a romantic subgenre into an almost entirely romantic story with a supernatural backdrop, but it's safe to say that the vast majority of the plotlines were either focused on magic or love. And, it's not particularly difficult to see how Bonnie was forcibly excluded from a predominant storyline in each genre, even when it made absolutely no sense.

Bonnie was a completely inexperienced witch at the start of TVD, so her cluelessness and powerlessness made a certain amount of sense at that point. But by the end of season 2 at the very latest, it seems fully established that she is one of the most powerful living witches in the world, and for the bulk of the series it is plainly acknowledged that she is one of the most powerful witches who ever lived. Which is exactly why Bonnie's position in the narrative is baffling.

In quite a few instances, Bonnie's magical abilities seem to be somewhat inconsistent, at least in the sense that, if she can solve some of the biggest problems that the Mystic Falls gang is confronted with, then it's very odd that she can't solve the others. And while plenty of characters in TVD are occasionally used as plot devices rather than characters, Bonnie seems to be the one who is specifically designed to show up, fix what needs fixing, and then become set dressing once she's no longer necessary as the mystical solution to every unsolvable issue.

And this is actually a significant problem with the witches at large, but of course is most recognizable with Bonnie because she is the most prominent witch. While not all witches are women of color, it seems like they are far more represented in that faction of the magical world than in any other. So then, it's interesting that the witches are presented as servants of nature who are meant to selflessly restore order to the world without actually using their abilities for their own personal gain.

Of course there are plenty of witches who appear to use their powers for themselves, but still, it's incredibly meaningful that the lone black main character in the series is constantly sacrificing herself for the sake of the otherwise entirely white cast of characters. It's even more meaningful that she seems to willingly put herself in the line of fire every time, and it's also extremely telling that she suffers and even dies without complaint for the sake of other people.

And while TVD has never been the kind of show to linger on emotional moments for too long, Bonnie seems to stick out like a sore thumb in this circumstance as well. Most of the main and even supporting characters have moments where their pain is acknowledged and at least has a second to breathe, but there are quite a few situations where Bonnie should be upset but isn't, or where her emotional journey as a character literally takes place off screen.

This lack of acknowledgment and nearly complete omission of an internal emotional life that doesn't involve sacrificing herself for her friends only further makes Bonnie feel like a plot device instead of a character. And, while no character needs a romantic relationship to make their character complete, it is incredibly relevant that, on a series that was built largely on a foundation of romance and arguably became a completely romantically driven show by its end, only one of the female leads was pretty much never presented as a viable love interest.

Nearly every character is either threatened or charmed into doing what someone else wants them to at some point during The Vampire Diaries, however, Bonnie's charm-to-threaten ratio seems to lean very heavily in favor of threatening. That in itself wouldn't necessarily be a huge issue, but it seems to punish Bonnie in a way that is so severe that it's completely illogical.

Trying to intimidate Elena or Caroline, people who at best have the strength of a baby vampire and at worst are as powerful as a normal human, makes sense. But trying to strongarm the most powerful witch in the world instead of just convincing her to do what you ask seems like an incredibly dangerous and completely baffling decision.

And yet, that is how Bonnie is forced to do nearly everything that she doesn't want to do in eight seasons of the series. By the end of season 2, TVD has canonically confirmed that Bonnie is powerful enough to destroy Klaus Mikaelson, and yet people like Klaus, Katherine, and even vampires as young as Damon get Bonnie to do things by simply bullying or even assaulting her into doing it. And what does Bonnie typically do in response? Absolutely nothing.

At a certain point, the consistent contrast between Bonnie's mystical strength and the way that people treat her in order to use that strength becomes a pretty gaping plot hole. And while it's not unheard of for someone to try to sweet talk Bonnie into joining their team, it is almost always done by a character who is far less powerful than she is and who is completely irrelevant to the narrative at large.

In contrast to characters like Elena and Caroline, the distinction between them becomes even more obvious. Perhaps a thin argument could be made that because Elena is a doppelganger that makes her a tad more unique, but when one of the most powerful creatures on the planet was wrapped around Caroline's finger, it really begs the question, why wasn't anyone ever as invested or even obsessed with Bonnie as they were with the other two female leads on the series?

After all, Elena's love was consistently treated as if it was the greatest prize that anyone could possibly win, and the two male leads were completely obsessed with her and willing to do anything they could to try to win her over. And despite the fact that Elena was at the center of the love triangle that was a significant driving force behind the story for the entire series, she still managed to score a few love interests that weren't Salvatores throughout the show's eight seasons as well.

And, while Caroline was actually treated as more of the reject love interest in comparison to the unattainable Elena, her record with romance is also incredibly varied. Even though she was portrayed at best as the consolation prize and at worst the abuse victim, she did have some sort of romantic relationship with the two male leads in the show. Or at least, that is how The Vampire Diaries chose to portray it.

In addition to her horrorshow with Damon and her incredibly brief marriage with Stefan, Caroline is also a love interest for Klaus, Matt, Tyler, and disgustingly, Alaric. Arguably the only main male character who doesn't serve as Caroline's love interest or potential love interest at any point is Jeremy.

Although this laundry list of love interests can be partially excused by the fact that Caroline is characterized as someone who wants to date a lot, the contrast bet0ween characters like Caroline and Elena and characters like Bonnie is astonishing.

Over a nearly decade-long run, Bonnie's only legitimate leading men are Jeremy, Elena's kid brother who Bonnie will willingly die for but who also prefers a literal dead person over her at one point, and Enzo, her epic love romance that comes about at the very end of the series in a relationship that almost entirely develops off-screen.

Of course, female characters do not need love interests to validate their characterization or very existence, however in an environment where every single barely significant supporting character seems to get at least two love interests, it's incredibly telling that Bonnie Bennett gets two important love stories in eight seasons of storytelling.

It seems even more relevant that the show seemingly went out of its way to sidestep almost any and all opportunities for romance in Bonnie's character arc. Whether it was Kol, Kai, or Damon Salvatore, there were quite a few instances where there was a clear and easy route to develop a love interest for Bonnie in a way that made sense and had a pretty solid amount of audience support, and yet the series always went out of its way to avoid it.

In stark contrast, Caroline is still seen as a viable option for a burgeoning love story when she's pregnant, and Elena is an acceptable love interest when she's literally unconscious. And yet, in a series that began with romance as its secondary genre and that evolved into a romance series with a supernatural backdrop, Bonnie is supposedly not as appealing of a love interest as Elena and Caroline regardless of any circumstances, no matter how insane.

If these issues existed in a vacuum then they might be excusable, but considering how poorly The Vampire Diaries treated its female characters and black characters, it's pretty much impossible to avoid the reality that Bonnie Bennett's entire character arc was likely hamstrung by the fact that she was a black girl.

In any reasonable circumstances, Bonnie would have arguably been at the center of every single supernatural storyline, and she logically would have been a far more appealing love interest to any powerful characters in the series. But instead she spent the vast majority of her screentime with her inner characterization ignored, her personal development unexplored, and serving as little more than a glorified deus ex machina who didn't even want her friends to bother mourning her when she literally sacrificed her life for them.

Representation was always an issue in The Vampire Diaries universe, and unfortunately it seems like Bonnie was the definition of their token black character. Although the series had eight entire years to course correct and had many seasons where they were desperate for new ideas and decent character development, the racism and misogyny of the series seemingly prevented them from ever tapping into the enormous untapped potential of someone who should have been one of their flagship lead characters.

[agoddamn]

I've seen the sentiment that Camilla should have inherited the throne at the end of Hoshido route thrown around multiple times, and it always seemed kind of off to me, but I was never really able to put my finger on why. Any thoughts on the concept as somebody better versed in what would be in-character or not?

It would be completely out-of-character.

Camilla doesn't give a shit about Nohr.

Oh, she cares about the people she likes who are in Nohr, but the country itself? She does not care. Marx and Leon have a handful of lines about doing things for the good of the country and all that; Camilla does not. Camilla does things for people (and given that her relationships with a number of them are ultimately borderline narcissistic where she treats the person like a security blanket, you could argue that her motives are always selfish in the end).

In fact, the closest she comes to being concerned for Nohr is her Elise support, where she specifically says that Nohr needs someone like Elise and not like her.

See, I do get why people want her to be in power, though; Fates has no small amount of underlying sexism in its writing. It's Camilla's character to be a primarily self-serving person with no interest in the country, but Camilla isn't a real person and she is written to be a self-serving woman with no interest in the country.

Same deal with the Regalia; it makes sense that no princess has one because Hoshido is explicitly sexist, because Camilla doesn't care, and because Elise's narrative role is to be the innocent who never takes up arms. But it would be a bit silly to act like there's zero influence from sexist writers making decisions about what a leading character should be like (ie male)...but but, I'm also not a fan of going "well Camilla should be a totally different character then, one who cares about the country and earned Brynhildr!" because that's just not useful. I also think that Camilla's character fundamentally works.

The structure of the siblings, their relationships, and their power in Fates is actually pretty well-thought-out and you can't just throw extra weapons or shit in there without throwing things out of balance. If Camilla had a Regalia or inherited, relationships like Marx and Leon or Camilla and Leon would be thrown off because the power dynamics of the family dictate those relationships.

The FEH alt...is a FEH alt. I don't think a gacha game unit coming out several years after Fates's release is all that relevant to Fates's writing. I don't like that alt much, both for feeling like it's there to satisfy shallow desires for Queen Camilla that disregard all her actual opinions on the matter and because its dialog is 90% jokey lesbian memes (which I'd normally love! But not in this context...). She's also using Elise's title ("Light of Nohr"), which, again, is something she specifically said that she wasn't.

To be honest, I kind of love Camilla's raw selfishness. She doesn't hide it or pretend; she is completely cutthroat about being here for her own desires. No regard for mores or morality. Her concept of affection is twisted into something so self-serving that she treats people like dolls. I love it.

...Which is why I extra can't stand the localization's "she's motherly so that's good now : )" bullshit.

[mindibindi]

Beyond disappointed in Ted Lasso. What were they thinking?!

The writing is a complete betrayal and insult to Rebecca’s character and Hannah’s skills as they’re being seriously underused. It’s also insulting Sam’s character.

Hoping someone pulls Rebecca’s head out of her ass tbh. Sam shouldn’t be getting caught in the crossfire of her looking for romance. I know he showed up at her doorstep but she still should’ve turned him away, and not even messaged him in the first place.

Hey, I'm with you, Anon, though we do seem to be in the minority. Sam is definitely not blameless here, he is also in the wrong. But if one of them is more in the wrong, it is Rebecca. I can't speak to whether her head has left her arse as yet because I have quit watching (at least for now). I hear she called it off with Sam in the most recent ep, though not because of any major crisis of conscience or because anyone in her inner circle expressed any reasonable reservations in response to her bad behaviour. And to be honest, I'm not sure we should need to hope and pray that Rebecca's precocious god-daughter, her slimy ex-husband, or the brutal British press will act as a moral compass on this ill-advised relationship. Both Rupert and the press have been set up to some extent as the villains of the piece. And a 14 year old should never have to school her elders on what is and isn't acceptable. Nora's needs have already been neglected by Rebecca for far too long.

If a moral position is to be taken on this, it needs to be taken by the show (because stance matters) and/or by its characters. But the show has for the most part depicted this relationship as ill-advised but ultimately hot, sweet, funny and romantic. As for the characters themselves, Sam has shown at least once that he has some moral backbone but seems to be adorably clueless when it comes to fucking his boss who keeps trying to set boundaries with him. Meanwhile, Rebecca's whole arc in s1 was about learning not to misuse her power for her own selfish ends. In season one, she misused her power within the club in order to exact revenge. In season 2, we have seen her misuse her sexual power, though I still cannot see to what end. I'm a bit at a loss as to what exactly she gets out of this 'relationship' but then I'm a grown woman so I have absolutely no interest in sleeping with a Harry Potter enthusiast barely out of his teens. I couldn't think of anything less sexy and more ick. I was certainly hoping for better character development for her this season.

As to what the writers were thinking, obviously I was not in the writer's room, but I would guess that they were thinking that any drama is good drama, people are stupid and fan devotion will trump any meaningful critique. In other words, they were thinking exactly how every other television writer thinks, despite the fact that this show posited itself as 'not like other TV shows'. This, to me, is where the blame really lies. Not with the characters or with the actors who are doing their best to sell this ludicrous turn of events. It must be noted, however, that both actors were completely blindsided by this relationship that had supposedly been so cleverly foreshadowed. Newsflash: if the people actually living these stories did not see this coming then you haven't foreshadowed shit. Sure, there were a handful of people that paired Rebecca with Sam but this does not constitute proof either. Fans have free-range to imagine and re-imagine characters. In some cases this may extend to imagining relationships between characters who have barely, if ever, interacted. There may be little to no evidence that these characters have even clocked each other's existence and some fans will still ship it. The existence of a handful of shippers does not legitimise such a problematic and divisive plotline making it onscreen.

But wait!, you might argue, this may not be a case of a popular show seeing just how far they can stretch fan devotion. This may not be a case of fan service to a handful of shippers. After all, the creators mapped out the entire three-season arc of Ted Lasso before they even pitched it to Apple. This was their brilliant plan all along! To which I would say: then maybe they should've rethought their second act based on people's strong reactions to their first. Ted Lasso was touted as the show we all needed in 2020. The writers and creators have all marveled at the chord it struck considering it was conceived prior to the pandemic and all the chaos it wrought. And while there is something to be said for having/sticking to a creative vision, there is also something to be said for being flexible and responsive to your audience and the cultural zeitgeist with which you're engaged. Season 1 of Ted Lasso told its story so gently, without creating distrust, division or unnecessary anxiety. It did not treat its audience like a gaggle of stupid lemmings to be led over a succession of narrative cliffs. THIS is what I mean when I say the show has broken with its brand. And look, this whole dark forest thing would be okay if the narrative arc was as well-crafted as s1. Season 1 gave us meaning, cohesion, comfort, sense in a senseless time. It was an almost perfectly crafted season of television. And I kept the faith for 6 episodes, despite the first half of s2 being pretty damn wobbly. But the follow-up to this stellar debut has been less than extraordinary so yeah, perhaps they should've thought a little harder about what made s1 so special before throwing it all out the window.

But wait!, I hear the faithful say, you don't know how things will pan out yet! Wait until the season is over and everything will make sense! But -- wearily and once again, I say -- we should not need to wait until the end of the season to understand what the hell is happening. By this point (over halfway through the season and show) we should have a v clear idea of the show's themes and the characters' arcs. And tbf, from what I can tell there are some fab things happening in other aspects of the show that I wish I could watch and enjoy. But my biggest fear at this point is that they are going to use Sam to solve Rebecca's childlessness. That, like Rupert (because the parallel cannot be avoided), she will become pregnant with a young fling and the show's attitude to this relationship will ultimately be: oh well, it was a bad idea and didn't work out for them but it was all for the best in the end cos who can be mad about a cute lil baaaayyybbbeeee??!! If they do go down this path then I will definitely be abstaining from the rest of the show. I will simply recall my repeated viewings of s1 with fondness tinged with regret at just how badly they fucked up a good thing.

Ultimately, Anon, I think this may be a case of there simply not being a diverse enough perspective in the writer's room. I am not saying that every single woman or every single person of colour will necessarily object to this relationship. I am simply saying that women and people of colour will be more sensitive to the issues of gender and race that are relevant here but that have not been fully or sensitively acknowledged in the writing of this plotline. Neither am I saying that Rebecca is the first woman to sleep with a man much (much, much, MUCH) younger than herself or indulge in an ill-advised relationship. But the comparison with Rupert both works here and doesn't because Rebecca is not being written like a white woman, she is being written like a white man. Realistically, only a white man can engage in this kind of hugely imbalanced relationship seemingly without any major moral qualms or societal ramifications. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this kind of relationship is reserved for all the Bills and Joes and Brendans and Jasons out there -- not for the Rebeccas and definitely not for the Sams. We are way beyond the point in feminism where we believe that liberation is simply the right for a white woman to behave as badly as a white man. The truth is that whatever wealth, power and privilege Rebecca has, the rules are different for men and women. She will not be treated the same as Rupert if and when this affair is uncovered. She will be treated far more savagely than Rupert ever was and Sam will be treated far more savagely than Bex was. This is not an argument for the equal treatment of these two relationships. It is an argument against how the relationship between Rebecca and Sam has been envisaged, i.e. through the wrong perspective. In writing from a 'neutral' white male pov, the show has invisiblised all the many issues activated by this storyline and revealed a blindspot that was always there.

As much as I loved and still love season 1 of this show, it has definite blindspots when it comes to representations of race and gender. There are at least two moments in s1 that stand out for me as being so obviously written by a man. Not necessarily because of what they do but because of what they don't do: what is missed, absent, unacknowledged. I was willing to overlook such minor failings in a debut season for many reasons. But s2 seems to have exacerbated these minor flaws rather than correcting them. And here I can't help thinking of Tina Fey speaking of the diversification of the writer's room at SNL during her tenure as co-headwriter. This notoriously male-dominated environment only began to shift and produce better work when a greater diversity of minds, voices and persepectives was allowed in the room. In this richer environment, she notes, different jokes played differently. Different sketches made it to air. Different perspectives were represented and different performers were celebrated. I can't help wondering if this plotline would have made it to air if there had been a female writer, a writer of colour or both further up the chain of command to challenge the ideas of the straight white dudes in charge.

One of the reasons I didn't think Ted Lasso was for me was that it centred a straight, white, cis-het, able-bodied man who rose to a position he didn't earn. That is just not a pov I would normally choose for myself, especially now that there is such a rich array of alternative perspectives through which to view the world. But I think the show won a lot of females fans with its first season largely due to its portrayal of Rebecca. She is the first person we meet. She is arguably the protagonist of s1. And while she would have been figured as a villain in previous pieces, the show never took that stance with her (because again, stance matters). Other elements like the depiction of female friendships, all centred around Rebecca, made this show female-friendly viewing. But imo, the major reason this show won over female fans (this one, at least) is because, in this post-MeToo, post-TimesUp era, it stood up and said: domestic violence is not okay, we stand with women and all victims of abuse, we will defend you, we know words can hurt, we know it can happen to anyone, we know all about toxic masculinity, we do not take this lightly and we will support you in your healing. Needless to say, this is how women hope men will act when they speak of their most difficult experiences but it is not how they always do.

The shift away from Rebecca this season has however meant that the white male experience is more centred than it was in s1. Rebecca's journey to recovery, health and happiness has been trivialised and sidelined, reduced to a highly questionable sexcapade. Meanwhile, we get overwrought manpain at every turn. We get Beard wandering around London (no, I haven't seen it and no, I don't need to. We've all been raised on white dudes thinking they're genuises when they have a figurative wank all over our screens). We get NO queer represention at all. And the only other female characters on screen are in care/service roles to men. The father/son, mentoring and toxic masculinity themes are all still there but they're no longer balanced out by ANY other competing perspective. One of the reasons I was okay with Ted failing upwards in s1 was that he used his power and privilege to lift up others. He was the one in service. He used his enormous privilege for good, as anyone with such privilege must. (Admittedly, it could be argued that this is just another version of a white savior narrative).

My point here is that I'm not sure that peeking behind the mask at the sad clown is as revolutionary as some might believe. We love it because it's familiar. But this is a narrative with a long and problematic history. Do I believe in tearing down toxic masculinity in all its forms? You bet. Do I believe that patriarchy traumatises men as well as women and every other minority in existence? I mean...nowhere near as much, but absolutely. Do I believe in men expressing their feelings and going to therapy? Wholeheartedly. But I am also aware that 100 or so years ago, we were in a very similar place with our narratives. Everyone is looking for a recapitulation of modernism and frankly, this might be an indicator of just that. Whenever women and people of colour have demanded rights and recognition, there has always been a resurgence of tales about just how frickin' hard it is to be a white man. Minority genders and non-white people have never in western history been as visible or vocal as they are now. So forgive me (or don't, I don't care) if I critique a show not only for centering fathers, sons, boys and men but for blindly and boldly writing one of its only female characters and one of its only black characters as if their gender and race just do not exist. There are many other power differentials at play in this relationship, including age, experience, wealth and position, but race and gender are the two that patriarchy is most invested in invisiblising. So I don't care how brilliant they think they are, I will not trust the writing of a bunch of white dudes trying to tell me that race and gender are irrelevant.

[phoebehalliwell]

i don't know if i'm the only one but i've often wondered exactly how hard it was to convince julian mcmahon to stick around for season five. they took his character, a feared powerful half demon and made him into the butt of the joke and the whole joke was basically ha ha look at this lovestruck fool obsessing and suicidal because he's got nothing to live with but can't die. ain't that funny? like how the fuck did the writers sell that to julian is my question

i find the entirety of season five just so goddamn insulting to cole's character. hell the fact that he got possessed by the source and this was treated as him turning evil instead of a shitty situation that got out of hand. like it wasn't bad enough he was villified for something that he wasn't even in control of half the time they couldn't even just vanquish the dude, they dragged it on and ridiculed him. i hate it here

lol. i mean. yeah. i really. like. it's like. like okay we all know cole was a fan favorite right and he & phoebe were really meant to like. be the sex appeal to the show no one else was really filling that role they were charmed's Sexy Couple tm. so like. in a sense i get the notion ab wanting to keep him around. because everyone loves him! he's bad boy! he adds this dangerous edge love balancing on a knife's point stuff like that. so like. that being said. u wanna keep him around. i just like Do Not Get how you opt to keep him around Like That. tbh. as w all things. i am blaming brad kern. i think it all really started to tank s4 (well, with mortal cole, but like) with source cole. that was bad, but i know it was part of the push to have like long form season drama character driven plots conflict between the sisters themselves it just like. sucked ass and balls imo. like i mean the fact they had to do the source as a possession just so they could get demon cole and lover cole,,, i mean it speaks to how stupid it was. the fact that u wanted cole to be a villain So Bad but the only way to do it was like. possession? sign that u should not do that like. like. like. i don't know how we're supposed to feel ab that.

and then. the vanquish. not sticking. i think like. i think they probably had the vague idea that cole having a mortal soul would not be able to be vanquished properly right? like. demons get destroyed into nothingness, but the human part of him lives, so i think they probably knew that was what they were going to do, that's what they sold to jmm and like. we sowed those seeds in the s4 finale w his ghost whispers and materialization. so i think like. they knew they wanted to Not Kill Him because he was such a fan favorite. maybe there was an intention to do a will they won't they variant of phole? and then. of course. there was the whole idea of paige cole, which, as the rumor goes, was meant to kick of in the s5 pilot, but both julian and rose shut it down. but i feel like. assuming that's true (which i 100% do assume that's true absolutely and i'm not endorsing it i don't think it would have been good or well written or whatever but like. 👀. you know?) but yeah. assuming that's true, i feel like that piece really speaks to what their designs for cole were: man meat. he was meant to be their male sex appeal and they weren't going to be picky about the narrative itself as long as he was still kicking.

but like honestly? i mean i shouldn't have to say this it's a given: it's not enough to just put your sexy man in front of a camera and call it a day like imo even a man who is not sexy can be made appealing through the power of the narrative. like, to level with you, i never really ever shipped phole nor found cole attractive at all like ever, but i can see like the fucking support beams you know i can see the infrastructure on which this whole thing can you know take on a life of its own in the earlier seasons because they very consciously put it there!! people shipped it for a reason n not just because they were two people standing next to each other on a tv screen i mean hello almost sinking a dagger in her heart but can't do it sends her away back to her sisters because he can't act out on his evil plan!! that's something!!!! that's so very something and they gave us Nothing they gave us nothing in the later seasons. and still expected it to fly. like. tbh julian was probably just like unwittingly duped like dragged along for the ride s5 which is likely why he was vanquished halfway through because i'd imagine roughly three episode in he went okay! um. what's this? guys? what's this? and then they said cole<3 you know he like knew he had to get the hell outta dodge.

anyways. if i were to resuscitate phole in s5. which like. to level w u. i wouldn’t. because they would need a lot of one-on-one screentime and we already spent so much of s4 splitting up the sisterhood in the name of phole i wouldn’t really want to continue with that per se But. if i were. this ask is getting long it’s under a cut 

something something demon of the week something something realms the point is cole is there when he very much shouldn’t be and like. he and phoebe get knocked into a different plane. so their bodies are fine and at the manor, but their minds are elsewhere and they need to solve whatever it is in order to get back. and we’ll say there’s a fuckin deadline because the girls need the power of three and right now they are sealed off from accessing it. and you know phoebe’s pretty fuckin pissed with cole because you know. he dragged her down to hell and she almost gave birth to the antichrist. actually source’s heir might be fun to keep around in this au idk. the point is phoebe’s pissed at cole and cole’s pissed at phoebe because phoebe’s pissed at him but he literally didn’t have control over himself in that era and he’s not getting the space he needs to justify himself because phoebe keeps stepping over him. but they gotta work together to get out of here. and were kinda doing enemies to lover 2.0 but like now they have History. of course we’ve gotta do a moment where cole has idk done something normal and phoebe’s so riled up that she does something rash and almost dies cole saves her like catches her bridal style or something faces inches apart breathing heavy and there’s a moment. like a we’re back in early s4 moment. which phoebe immediately breaks from and like walls going flying up but just for a moment there we see it it’s obvious: she’s still in love with cole. which then segues into an argument because like. cole wasn’t sure. right? he wasn’t sure if phoebe now just genuinely hated him. but now he knows right he knows better now so why are you acting like this? why are you taking every opportunity to shut me down to shut me out? why are you acting like you hate me when you know that’s not true right that whole thing to phoebe who gets the Classic because i do hate you. i hate you for what you did to me for what you did to my family and i hate you because i loved you so much and you destroyed me and i hate you because no matter how hard i try that love is still there and i know that for a second if i stop hating you i’m going to love you just like before and you can destroy me again and i hate myself because i’d let you because i love you. you know? big speech. big reveal. i have No Idea what piper and paige are up to right now. the point is. after this big confession we get the lull the cards are on the table what the fuck do we do now which is when cole Finally gets to opportunity to say he was actually possessed by the source and manipulated by the seer and the only thing that kept him holding on was his love for her and after she became queen of hell after he saw what the source had done to her he knew it had to end he doesn’t hold it against her for vanquishing him right this is where we exonerate all wrongs we’re just saying anything bad that has happened ever? scrub it. it’s the source’s fault. cole has no resentment against phoebe. he loves her a healthy, normal, non-possessive amount, so much so He Loves Her So Much he let her kill him and like honestly would probably do it again. idk and then they make out or something. and then they’re out of whatever plane they were in by the end of the episode. And Then we get a buddy cop episode with paige and cole where they bond and also sort through everything that happened there. slowly but surely. and then we do a real phole wedding a super small affair in the manor lowkey bc i hated their wedding episode it blowed we give them a good one. wallah <3

[alexiaugustin]

I am 100 % on board with your post about how Jo is an entitled and that has to do with her white privilege. But then you have to throw the gender factor into this and I don't understand the reason; Jo is acting like an entitled piece of shit towards her arab friend/LI because she's white (plus a shitty personality in itself), yes, but her being a woman has nothing to do with it. I think it's just internalized mysoginy-ish to throw that into the argument when it's not relevant, since white men are even LESS held accountable for their actions in fandom, just look at Jens' racist ass who's still stanned for being a "bi icon" by the fandom. Both white men and white women aren't held accountable for their racist actions, both in media and IRL, and are defended in different ways, but I assure you Jo would not be defended any less if she happened to be a man. If anything, straight fetishists would idolize her even more because that's how they do it with white mlm, just look at how Sander and Robbe are treated.

you know i think it's really intresting that you're coming to my blog purposefully misinterpreting what i said, drawing parallels to other shows/characters that have nothing to do with what i was talking about and then to really put the cherry on top calling my point misogynistic for.. recognizing skamfr's way of prioritizing their white female characters, who are white feminists, over their characters of color. because while some of us are busy anonymously accusing people of making misogynistic points, others have a good long look on how white feminism is a present issue on skamfr as it is deeply manifested in the way they write their white female characters, while simultaneously not caring remotely enough about their characters of color as they either couldn't care less about their seasons or villainize them.

you really think that white feminism is not an issue on skamfr and that im throwing the gender factor into this just because?? okay here's a list of things skamfr did that are the textbook definition of white feminism

having imane apologize to her group of exclusively white friends after a season where they were treating her like shit, taking ingrid's side over hers and pitying ingrid after imane called her out for her racism. leading to the conclusion of the season that her white female supposedly feminist friends are gracious enough to forgive imane, imane having to be the bigger person and inviting ingrid over to her house.. ingrid ending up with her brother??????

the entire existence of tiff's season basically but let's put some special focus on the fact that she got away with everything that she did without ever facing any consequences because she is protected by her white womanhood (something that is never actively acknowledged by the narrative)

tiff being a literal bully who told a mentally ill teenager to k word herself being the main of one of their seasons and being immediately forgiven for her past "mistakes" all while they slapped horror movie music over scenes where judith appeared, making her look threatening to poor helpless tiff and villanizing her one last time by making her deleting one audio message her fatal, unforgivable mistake. the narrative granting her zero sympathy

skamfr dedicating an entire clip to tiff saying "pink is a feminist color" and everyone just rolling with it as if that's not.. peak white feminism

the narrative letting jo yell at bilal, randomly get mad at him, calling him lazy expecting him to have enough free time to take care of all of her problems on top of her own, getting mad at him for saying that he doesn't want to be in a relationship right now etc.

those are just.. a few examples that immediately come to mind but im know that there are.. SO many more. and if writers write a show with that kind of white feminist mindset, heavily focusing on their white female characters to a point where they are taking the season of characters of color over (manon & jo being stellar examples for that) then you cannot look at this show without recognizing this issue.

it's also intresting that you are talking about how white characters are treated in fandom, when the one sentence of my post you're so concerned about being misogynistic was about how white women are treated in the media. my point was never about whether jo as a character is a white feminist- then tiff would absolutely still fall into this category- but about how jo as a character is just a product of the writing of a few people who decided to cement white feminism at the top of their show. the same people who decided that a black woman deserves to be villainized for deleting a message while they were bending over backwards to redeem their white upper class bully. the same writers who decided that dedicating five episodes to an arab teenager struggling with classism and homelessness must really be enough "activism" and that it's time to focus on the difficult life of one of their white girls again instead!

at no point did i ever say that i do not want writers to hold their white male characters accountable for the shit they do but this post simply wasn't about robbe or sander, it was about jo, a white woman who benefits from being written through a white feminist perspective. white feminism is a part of the issue with racism and white supremacy it obviously isn't all of it. but sure, if i ignored all of that i might come to the conclusion that the statement "one of these days the media will held white women like jo accountable for the shitty and toxic ways they treat others, especially people of color instead of brushing their behavior off as quirky and prioritizing their tears over the stories of people of color" must be reflecting my internalized misogyny!

[welcome-to-the-cafe]

SHANG-CHI (2021) Review Pt. 3

This section will focus more on the potential cultural impact and reflections of the movie.

Good things first. This was a great movie for Asian-American representation. On face value, it was a huge rather well-promoted movie (in my opinion, but that could just be my algorithms) under arguably the most internationally renown franchise today, Marvel. It featured empowered and attractive Asian male leads, empowered and attractive Asian female leads, a glorious, dreamy romance between two of them, and multiple humanizing familial relationships that don't simply recycle the old "modern freedom vs oppressive tradition". Each Asian character is a fully fleshed person, as is due, and clear authentic effort is made to celebrate their backgrounds, from the action to settings to costumes to language to the jokes.

And the Asian-American jokes land very well, especially the ones that highlight how different each individual Asian-American 's experience, and familiarity with their heritage, can be. Central to this is Katy, of course, essentially the audience surrogate, the audience being both nonAsians and "standard" Asian-Americans. She is bad at Chinese, even as her own grandmother speaks it. She defies her mom's (gentle) expectations of her, she is amazed and somewhat intimidated by her heritage in full form. The other characters who are closer to their native culture are gentle with her unfamiliarity: Shang-Chi walks her through pronunciation, Ronny Chieng's character assures her "Don't worry I speak ABC", and even Wenwu treats her kindly as a guest, and doesn't put her down for her Americanness. Well other than the patronizing storytelling tone, but that's the villainous patronizing, not the "you are uncultured" patronizing. Even in the village, they look down on her mostly on account of her not having martial arts skills and being ambitionless, than of her Americanness.

Similarly, Shang-Chi's struggle with his father did not use his time in America, and his potential Americanizing, as much of a pain point. I appreciate this, and the gentleness to Katy, greatly, as it dances around the culture conflict narrative that so frequently plagues other Asian American media (looking at you Crazy Rich Asians). As such, Wenwu is not evil because he is more Chinese/traditional, he is so because of the very human pain of losing his wife. Also he was a ruthless immortal warlord. And his children are not good due to their separation from their heritage; they are good because of their ties to each other and their mother, and her heritage from the village, which also traditional. Like an equation, the culture on the good and bad sides cancel out, and you are left with a largely culture-neutral narrative, while Chinese culture itself is shown off more.

Most of the characters are Asian, the non-Asians are very tertiary. In this, the movie functions as normal Asian media does; in removing the racial differences, the characters level with each other as people, instead of as representatives of their heritage. Speaking of native Asian media, I will now explain how this movie, for all of its virtues, will still serve the same ultimate function as Crazy Rich Asians and Mulan in terms of cross-national relations.

This was an American movie. Featuring Asian culture, yes. But an American movie nonetheless. Its action scenes would probably stand up well against native Chinese media, but its overarching presentation would be seen as incredibly cheesy, and probably somewhat patronizing, to a Chinese viewer. What are those costumes? What are those Ta Lo "traditional clothes"? Straw Huts? Why the fuck does Death Dealer have face paint? What are those ridiculous hook swords and tassle helmets? Oh hey its the mythical beasts they see in every wuxia fantasy movie.

I liked a comparison I read on social media; it is like presenting orange chicken as a dish specially made for your Chinese guest. The dish may be good, but that is besides the point; it is insulting for you to expect them to appreciate your facsimile of their culture. In this metaphorical scenario, you may be a Chinese-American, but your weird attempt to reference your heritage only highlights the divide. They eat better Chinese food all the time anyways, this orange chicken may be a direct downgrade. Did you expect them to be happy just because you, the American, made it for them? Are you looking down on them?

It is better for you to make a pizza or a fettuccini alfredo for them. This equivalent would be the World of Warcraft movie, with no Asian references whatsoever.

I remember when Avatar: The Last Airbender came out, and my 3rd grade self was so excited to see the Chinese armor designs on the fire nation, the kung-fu inspired bending styles, and more. But now, I feel a bit strange seeing how much obsession is given to this series by the Asian-American community. For all its acclaim and AsAm representation, it is virtually unknown to native Asians, unlike the notorious Resident Evil live-action movie series. I wonder, if most Chinese-Americans had watched more Chinese wuxia and fantasy, they would be as excited about ATLA?

This is also related to how Westerners are discovering Tony Leung for the first time, and some Asians say "we been knew". But how many AsAm actually did know? For how many Asian-Americans did it take Shang-Chi to introduce them to this legend, and his previous body of work?

Why was I so excited to be represented in a cartoon, even if I did watch Journey to the West growing up? Could it be because finally it was something with Asians in it that the kids around me also watched? Maybe. I could go on and on about Sun Wukong, but nobody cared, while Prince Zuko was somebody everyone knew and rooted for.

So in this way, Shang-Chi, despite being mildly offensive to the motherland (for which the movie does not even have a release date), is still very important and positive to us stateside. I feel a little bad for Simu that his homeland may not appreciate his greatest work so far, but maybe it doesn't bother him that much; he is now a hero to almost the entire Asian-American community. I hope Tony Leung can be the movie's saving grace for native markets. I also hope that Chinese watchers would understand why this movie is important for the diaspora, even if they don't enjoy the movie itself.

Oh, and finally, I hope Chinese-Americans don't hold their motherland in contempt for disliking this movie. It's not for them! Cut them the slack! And go watch their movies and media! It may not have jokes about the immigrant experience, but it is effective representation. Watch Asian movies! With your family, with your friends! Western media is not the center of the universe, and it never deserved to be. Put more people who look like you on your own screen.

I saw a lot of Tiktoks of nonAsians (and Asians) doing kung-fu moves coming out of the theater. I...am not sure about this? I guess martial arts is once more the vehicle by which we get positive representation in Western media, as is tradition. The legacy of Bruce Lee, of Jackie Chan, of Jet Li. Should I celebrate? Martial arts are dope as fuck but...that's not all we are...well. The appropriate tropey thing to say is: "This is just the beginning."

Part 4 will be my rewrite ideas. I will write it on my blog and link it here later.