The meanest thing I could say about this movie is ‘Has extreme Don’t Worry Darling energy’.
I have never seen a movie more desperate to justify itself. It’s trapped in this endless neurosis over what it is- a blockbuster Barbie movie in 2023 by an acclaimed art house director that is fun but also deep but also earnest but also self aware but also but also but also. Every point it raises it brings up a counterpoint to before the audience can, every frame is trying to prove it’s not just product but art. It’s never just Barbie. It’s never confident or even comfortable in its skin. You cannot for a second be immersed in Barbie because it’s not a story so much as a visual dissertation without a central thesis, it’s a student film riffing on the big dogs hoping it’s underdog audacity will carry it but given a budget in the millions. It so desperately wants you to like it, to know it’s in on the joke too.
Everythng is an ouroboros here: an endless loop of argument and counterarguement feeding itself. Isn’t it shitty how the Mattel boardroom is full of men? Ah, but isn’t it cool how Mattel’s acknowledged it with this niche? And it’ll mythologize Barbie’s creator but uh don’t worry she did tax evasion we know that, now let her impart into Barbie the experience of all women. Barbie helps women, Barbie hurts women, Barbie is told to be everything so isn’t she just like women, but it is better to be a creator than the idea, and in the end, hasn’t Barbie helped all these women? Oh uh why is this blonde white Barbie the centerpiece of it all and helping not only her diverse Barbie friends but a Hispanic woman and her daughter? Don’t worry we’ll have the daughter call her a white savior! But don’t worry we’ll have the mom say she’s not! It’s fascinating to watch, honestly. It’s a film that wants to prove to you so so bad that it works but it doesn’t and it knows it doesn’t and it knows you knows. It’s Gerta Gerwig wrestling with taking this job for an hour and a half.
The cast is more than game and able. Margot Robbie is doing her damndest to find the heart and soul in this role, and there’s one scene with an old lady near the end of the first act/beginning of the second that actually works, for just a moment, more than any of the big third act soliloquies or montages with emotional ballads. And as someone who’s seen Blade Runner 2049 and Drive, this is the best Ryan Gosling performance I’ve seen. The man commits and delivers a surprisingly compelling and entertaining antagonist. The movie can’t quite reconcile what he’s done with his ending, or tie it into the themes- is Ken letting go of Barbie and the need to define himself for or against her symbolizing the need for men to do the same, and if so, why play it so lightly and sympathetically?- but that’s not his fault. And the supporting cast are entertaining, but you just can’t have big laughs with a movie that feels like it’s constantly checking in the corner of its eye after every joke to see if you’re laughing, grin stuck in place. It’s not as funny or as smart as it wants to be, and the sad thing is, it feels like it knows that too.
There is some great set design, cinematography, dazzling choreography, popping colors, and some fun high points. But I can’t imagine many kids liking it. And we’ve seen how conservatives have taken this movie. And anyone’s who’s progressed beyond the politics of. Well. A feminist blockbuster Barbie movie will find it cloying or condescending or just incredibly basic. It’s aimed at a very specific crowd who will buy what it’s saying, the liberals who see corporate feminism as progress, who agree that it’s just about a little change sometimes, who are ready for something just a little more complex than a SNL sketch. I don’t regret seeing it, because I was deeply engaged the whole time seeing it struggle at war with itself, in pain for its whole existence. It’s not a boring movie by any means. It wants to say everything before the audience can say it first. It’s the endpoint of The Lego Movie and Enchanted- the corporations interrogating and justifying themselves, and the cracks in this formula are too large to ignore. It wants to be so much, and the attempt is as darkly mesmerizing as a fly thinking it can somehow and someway metamorphize into a butterfly and suffocating and struggling in its makeshift cocoon, but this is one Barbie that fundamentally just cannot break out of its box.
Is this the new male feminist style. Instead of Joss Whedon, Alex Garland. White men making the most surface level analysis and thinking they’re relevant and deep and an ally. Like god what the most insufferable movie. The attempts at ‘symbolism’. Did you notice the night sky looks like a vagina? The fucking matryoshka doll climax. And the awful CGI. Just. God. The title is apt cause this is a white man after taking his first, most surface level feminism course. Failing to find any of the intricacies abs specificities of the patriarchy and misogyny, resorting to primal ‘original sin’ shit instead of the societal roots, and completely missing the racial politics of the black man existing only as an abuser for the white woman victim. A disastrous film.
Listen. My one surefire weakness is giving Louise a plot where she cares about something, where she’s vulnerable. I’ve cried over the movie because of this, and this is the second time I cried this season because of it after the Christmas episode. In the early seasons, Tina was the most dynamic character in part because they were still figuring her out, and so she grew from an awkward completely socially inept neigh hermit to a confident weirdo who’s found her niche and is unabashedly herself and upfront about what she’s into. She still has struggles and anxieties, but it’s often filtered now into frustrated or proud rebellion about what’s trying to hold her back, like with Tammy’s show, and along the way she genuinely grew into the insightful older sibling with advice. Still great stories with her, but she’s much more set than she once was.
Louise was from the beginning the character the writers were most excited about, first as just the funniest character, the agent of chaos, the shock value fountain, the most unique and distinctive draw in a show still trying to figure itself out. And as it did, it’s like they realized, ‘Okay, Louise can still be that, but she can be more too. We don’t want her to fall by the wayside or be ill fitting with the reputation we’ve developed as a show for weirdos, a show with heart. We want her to embody that just like she embodied our wild start.’
And we got Kuchi Kopi. We got her easy bonds with Bob and Gene, and the hard fought ones with Linda and Tina. We got Rudy, we got Jessica. We got her attachment to her ears in the movie and how it ties her to the grandmother she never knew. We got how she can downplay herself for the sake of the rest of the family and to protect herself in this season’s Christmas.
And now we got this, a look into her anxieties and insecurity. So much of her actions in general are a desperate need to be seen and heard. Nothing gets to her like being dismissed for being ‘just a kid’, like being overlooked, like the possibility of a family member drifting away from her. Or the concept of her personal space or autonomy being invaded.
Part of what makes Louise such a unique character when it comes to kids is what makes her ‘bratty’ is framed as cool, endearing, valid. In a world where children are often reduced to being parental property, to having wants wantonly ignored, to have agency dismissed, Louise fights for hers and never gives in, and the show never tries to strip her of that.
But she is still a kid, and a girl at that. And kids have worries, and girls unfortunately deal with being overlooked for the loudest, most condescending, dismissive, and yes, male voices in the room.
I forgot how obnoxious Wayne can be, and I was even worried it might be too much, but he played his role perfectly. He’s not the wild absurdity of Millie or the personal animosity of Logan, he’s just a jerk. An annoying personification of that dismissive force in a way that Louise can’t really strike out outrageously in turn like she can with the other two.
He wiggles into her head and makes her feel stupid for caring, and then she feels stupid for feeling stupid for caring, and her fears of being overlooked start to feel like they’re becoming a reality.
Her frustrations and outbursts are so often played for humor and taken to wild extremes as she starts plotting retribution and vengeance, setting up the big laugh or catharsis. But here, as she shouts in frustration looking over her pages of spy stories or on Mother’s Day when faced with a block, it’s played like just a kid trying to disguise her frustration at herself and having trouble expressing what’s really wrong, putting up her walls. And just like the Christmas episode, she tries to downplay it and put her mom first, out of love for her and out of dismissal of herself as not as important or as not worth the hassle. If she gives up on herself first, it won’t matter if anyone else does, and so when things seem truly doomed to fail that is often her first line of defense, like when they were being buried alive.
John Roberts might deliver his best dramatic performance as Linda yet. In a role that so often demands hammy exuberance and over the top, in your face personality- just see last week’s episode- this episode asks him to underplay it for once. His delivery has never been so soft, so caring, so selfless. It’s helped by subtle expressions and great framing- Linda’s face in bed overhearing Louise about to throw in the towel is a key example. It’s even more rewarding seeing this after their first big episode together, all those years ago in Mother Daughter Laser Razor, and how much trouble they had connecting. And now Linda just gets her. She channels it in another direction, but she has that same need and demand to be heard.
It all crescendoes into Louise’s finish for her paper, and she’s never sounded more like a child baring her heart and hoping it’s not stepped on, hoping she’s understood. Kristen Schaal has been this character for so long and is such a big part of her success and you can feel the love she has for this role as she speaks, just as you can feel the writers’ affection for her, and how they’re speaking their own experiences through a character that somehow against all odds became the one they’d use most often for that, even over Tina’s burgeoning sense of self and confidence.
Right down to the tender credits, this is an episode that will stick with me and remind me why I love this show, this family, and most of all, Louise Belcher, who along 13 seasons and over a decade of knowing her has become one of my favorite characters in just about anything. Here’s hoping for a decade more.
The early arcs might drag slightly, but oh, the four part finale redeems it all.It has everything essential about these characters. Anakin's desperate longing for human connection and for those he holds most dear to be alright, and the rejection and disillusionment he feels from the weight of this war. Obi-Wan swallowing down his doubts and hopes to be the perfect model Jedi, pushing away and distancing himself from his closest friends in the process. Yoda hopeless and raw, wishing for the old days when Ahsoka was a Jedi and the Jedi weren't soldiers, and unable to shake the dread in his soul.
And, of course, the core trio of this season- Ahsoka, Rex, and Maul- shine. Maul's the last physical antagonist of the show but even in this moment he's overshadowed by Sidious. There's this dread to him as he can sense that everything is about to change, that he is always one step behind his master. He's always playing catch up, always surviving instead of thriving. That is his tragedy- a pawn that's outlived his usefulness trying to become a king. A man who thinks vengeance and power will finally give him satisfaction, but the pursuit of these things have only left him alone and hollow. Like Vader himself, it's that tragedy that makes him so compelling to watch, and Witwer perfectly acts every inch of Maul's bitterness and despair and dissatisfaction. Maul hates who he is, what he knows, and he will never be satisfied. He will never be happy. But he has no choice to be what he is, from the very beginning. He never had a chance.
None of them do. Maul is desperate, even willing to team up with his sworn enemy Kenobi to kill Skywalker. This is his last fight against the inevitability of fate, and it is already doomed. Neither of them arrived- they were called to 'rescue' Palpatine from Grevious. Ahsoka came instead. Sidious is about to seize power. Anakin's already killed Dooku, falling further and further. It's too late for Maul to stop his master and too late for Ahsoka to save hers. And yet they fight anyway. Because Ahsoka believes in Anakin so much, she cannot turn against him. She knows this is not the clones' fault, so she cannot kill them. She's left the Jedi Order and has found her own morals, her own way. Rex, meanwhile has come to realize he moves his brothers above all else, but must fight against them. Each of them have their own pathos that makes this enthralling entertainment.
The fight scenes are gorgeous- Ahsoka and Maul's battle being a standout. The beautiful environments, from the shattered throne room to the icy moon the series ends on, will take your breath away. But more than anything else, the ending justifies it all. Each Star Wars movie, even the darkest, end with at least a hint of triumph, or a light flung into the future. Attack of the Clones almost ends on the formation of the clones, a moment Yoda dreads, but the marriage of Anakin and Padame is a reminder that Luke and Lelia are on the way. Empire Strikes Back and Last Jedi both end with the heroes fractured but not broken, ready for round three. And even Revenge of the Sith assures us Luke and Leia will make things right in the end. Animated contemporaries Rebels and Resistance, too, end in triumph.
Not Clone Wars.
Clone Wars is a tragedy. There is no flash forward to better days, there is no hint of the rebellion, or that Ahsoka and Rex will be fine in the end. The last shot of Ahsoka shows her haunted, and the last shot of the show...is Vader, reflected in the helmet of one of the clones he respected so much, and was respected by in turn.A helmet specially decorated in support of Ahsoka, who both Anakin and the 501st adored, a last reminder of Anakin's and the clones' humanity, completely discarded. The ending doesn't care about the Skywalker Saga, about Anakin being redeemed in the end, or Luke rising up, or Rey carrying on their legacy. And that's what makes it great.
The clones were made for this war- pawns from life to death. All to help facilitate Anakin’s fall. For Anakin and his prophecy the clones and so many people from the Jedi to the average man suffered and died in a brutal, grueling war that only led to a brutal and grueling regime. All actors of a play they were never privy to. The show has the conviction to not cushion that blow.It is about the Clone Wars, not what comes after, and the Clone wars was a tragedy without redemption. Nothing will have made this war matter retroactively. The vast majority of people have no idea that a rebellion is forming or that Luke and Leia were born. All the Jedi and clones and civilians we've grown attached to and seen die certainly don't. The Clone Wars pulls back and shows exactly what the Skywalker Saga, what the Chosen One prophecy, has wrought on the people that saga turned its back on- the nobodies. The ordinary. After one horrendous finale, this one- this show- shows what Star Wars could be, and quite possibly never will be again. And I will always love it for that.
A self indulgent blast from the past with a talented cast. For some, I'm sure the toothless, pleasant reunion is just what they need. And it is for charity, so I guess I can't be too harsh. But for others, like myself, it just further exposes the show's vapid toothlessness, befitting the Obama era it came from. The show 'about' politics that had a liberal and libertarian become the best of friends and had gratuitous cameos from Biden, Clinton, and even Gingrich continue its uncritical legacy in a special 'about' the pandemic but not once mentioning the failure of the system that let it get this bad. It's just a thing, that's happening, and Leslie and Ben are doing their best to fix it but not angrily or in any way that could upset anybody. Like its show, politics in this special are just a bedrock for its characters to go through mild inconveniences on their way to perfect endings.
There's no conflict. There's barely even any jokes- the first minutes being Ben Wyatt bringing back and combining the Claymation and tabletop game gags and the last being a big reprisal of 5000 Candles in the Wind tells you all you need to know. The closest I came to laughing was when Ben Schwartz and Jason Mantzoukas were on screen, and that's not due to their material but the fact that they ooze charisma and commitment, whereas the main cast seem to cruise through. They, like the special itself, are banking on you still being in love with these characters years later, even as the times have evolved past them. If you are, I'm sure this is a pleasant catchup with old friends. If you're not, you'll be embarrassed you ever enjoyed this show to begin with.
Never been read harder than when my little brother saw this and said ‘I really liked it but YOU’LL love it’. This must be how some trans people felt seeing the Matrix, feeling seen, feeling called out, a generational disillusionment and a deep dysphoria acknowledged. But The Matrix is a power fantasy by directors who love to ape black aesthetics but hold a disdain for us, blame us. This is a cautionary tale, one full of empathy but good god I cannot be this.
I thought I had scheduled an appointment for this morning to talk to a provider about HRT. I spent the previous night wrapped in anxiety about what if things go wrong, what if they change for the worse, what if it won’t ’fix’ me, what if I talk to these people and they call me out, I’m not trans enough, I’m confused. It didn’t go through, I guess. They never called. I scheduled another in two weeks, got the email confirmation. And a part of me was relieved. Passed the buck down. A misunderstanding I can wash my hands of, a perfect excuse I could not be faulted for.
And then I saw this. As if to wash the doubt away. This hollowed me out. I feel raw and exposed and empty like it dug my heart out. I’ve been Owen. I am Owen. I don’t talk right, it’s hard to look people in the eyes, my skin doesn’t fit right, I feel hollow and I look in the mirror and often I see something disgusting and rotting. Owen in the ending is like my biggest nightmare put on screen. I got chicken tenders at the theater, I know, I’m a weirdo, and they asked for the name of the order and I used my birth name. Here. At no risk to me, nobody who knows me, I still couldn’t use Jaycee. I don’t use it at drive throughs. The name I chose, that the people I love and trust call me across the internet, that I use on the dating apps, I couldn’t use. Why? Because I don’t feel like I’ve earned it? Because it doesn’t feel time? There is still time.
I could say more about how this hits as someone who grew up on Buffy and Whedon shows for better and worse in high school despite being born a year before the show premiered, how it hits a nostalgia of a time I knew from behind the screen and then how time skips into now, like a shattering of the escape. I could talk about the attachment formed to a show before the Internet showed you all the fans who loved it like you, seeing yourself in it, projecting onto it what may not be there and reckoning with that as you grow. I could talk about Smith’s aching wound of a performance or Liddy-Paine’s killer monologue, or the breathtaking lighting and cinematography, but all I need to say is what I needed to hear.
There is still time. But that doesn’t mean there’s time to waste. I’m going to do that appointment. I’m going to use my name. I’m going to claw to who I want to be and who I am inch by inch. And like Owen, I may be alone when I take that path but I will be so relieved to be on it, I will know who I am, and that will be in part due to seeing the TV glow.
You know fourteen seasons in I wouldn’t have guessed Linda and Louise would be my favorite dynamic, but honestly they’re a strong contender. Louise and Bob are obviously excellent too and home to many a heartwarming moment, but Louise and Linda are catching up. And what make them so rewarding is that it’s changed over time. Bob was always Louise’s favorite, and she and Linda had trouble connecting. What they have now is hard won over the course of the entire show, and now it’s so clear that so much of Louise’s daring nature, unabashed attitude, and unwavering sense of confidence and self comes from Linda. And seeing them vibe is so much fun. Linda is Louise after adulthood has given her (what even Linda would often consider boring) sense and wisdom, but all that means is she’ll say things that’d come out of Louise’s mouth like ‘let’s just hit them over the head with a heavy object’ and the only difference is she’ll reluctantly take it back.
It makes for a funny episode, but also one with a nice emotional throughline of Linda wanting to build upon and maintain this bond. That anxiety is deeply sympathetic, and so is Louise’s sense of betrayal at finding out what she thought was a partnership being her mother indulging her. This matters to Louise too, and nothing riles or hurts her more than being treated like ‘just’ something- just a kid, just a girl- instead of as Louise. And again they meet each other halfway. Linda believes in Louise’s convictions and lets her go after the jellyfish, and Louise indulges in both her mother’s and her own hidden but well established deep sentimentality for her family by hanging up seventeen whole dollars as a beloved memorial of something cool she did with her mom. It just hits for me. It pays off of 14 years of investment in the two’s relationship.
Also rewarding is the continued acknowledgement of the movie, for devoted fans. The B plot is just plain fun and more of Bob’s Burgers loving passionate and quirky weirdos. The pipe sequence is a surprisingly affecting capper to it all, and the show is unashamedly gleeful about each performance. It’s infectious, especially from Bob and Teddy. And to top it all off, a bit of Fischoder with killer delivery and lines. What more could you want from a Bob’s Burgers episode?
Most of the serious drama and lore was executed pretty well. Shame about. The incest. But that’s mostly ignored after the first book- season of this, I presume- so I push through
Lemongrab has not aged well on so many levels
Not having Marceline Bubblegum and BMO- Finn’s closest friends- here and instead having a bunch of nobodies for his birthday was an odd choice
By emphasizing the teenage part of the TMNT more than any previous iteration, this movie immediately freshens up the franchise and carved out an unique place in it. Something I love about the Spiderverse era of CGI animation is every movie does it’s own thing rather than just ape Spiderverse. Puss in Boots Last Wish went for watercolor esque visuals to drive home the fairy tale setting, and this movie harkens back to its 90s comic roots and the original movie by going into a deeply stylized, almost caricature direction, unafraid to have people and environment alike look scratchy, grimy, and ‘ugly’ in a way that reminded me at times of claymation.
For all the trailers emphasizing the star studded supporting cast, it’s the kids who do the most for this movie. They have such an easy and warm chemistry, and lines that could come off as too cringey or ‘how do you do fellow kids’ feel natural with their earnest, off the cuff delivery. Their desire to be normal and part of the human world drives the turtles in a new direction by the end that I wasn’t expecting, and there’s a point in the climax that echoes the Raimi Spider trilogy New York spirit of ‘Ya mess with one of us, ya mess with all of us!’ that I really liked. The turtles delight in people, and by the end, the movie makes it clear that it does too. Combine that winsome energy with a killer soundtrack, and Mutant Mayhem is a real treat.
(I’m not used to kids being actually excited by mid credits scene but I actually heard several squeeing about the next villain teased which was nice)
Janet Varney always brings such a distinct and entertaining energy keyed to whatever tone the show she’s in is going for. She just goes for it, full commitment, whether it’s Korra or You’re The Worst or this.
And again when this friendship gets Sylvia to do power moves like that I support it no matter how toxic anyone claims it is.
Impressed how they addressed the prejudice of the time and how black people would get their accomplishments erased and stolen without getting too heavy or sanitized
A delirious fever dream, haunting and impossible to look away from. In the haze of the vampirism, everything is heightened, and there’s so many lens to view this movie from, each as rewarding as the last. The struggles of addiction, how it becomes a desperate pulsing need and a cold inevitable dread. The futility of assimilation and the return to roots. The conflict of class and who we consume to get there. Jones is captivating throughout, but he especially shines in the church as religion gives him release. And Clark absolutely kills her monologue and her last smile. A seminal work, Ganja and Hess will sink it’s teeth deep into you.
For a show that knew how important it was to take its time, this is a rushed and almost comically sudden finale. But Samurai Jack had prepared me for this. In terms of endings, this one, while a bit baffling and anticlimactic, doesn't hamper the journey itself for me as Jack's did. The animation is still immaculate, the action still exhilarating. It's just that suddenly the show is in desperate need to wrap everything up, hurrying the Viking chief off stage. And the worst moment-l don't know about you, but when I am dying from third degree burns inflicted just hours before that is not the time for sex! Ow! It's so obligatory, it echoes the needlessness of Jack and Ashi from before. Spear and Fang, the core of the show, don't get a full proper denouement for the sake of this. Because the show is that desperate for an ending setting up a sequel.
But again, by now I know Genndy's weakness at endings. And his tendency to let one head distract another. If this final episode isn't a triumph of writing, it's still a masterclass of animation, and the show as a whole is something that showcases the medium's power and potential.
There are five of these and only one has any actual character work, and it's also the only one not to lazily splice in clips from the movie like a shitty Cloverfield
I cannot forgive a movie that wastes Danny Trejo and Mahershala Ali back to back, and for what? For Adrien Brody, who is a vacuous black hole of charisma as an action hero and thinks a subpar impression of Cole McGrath is good enough? For the comic relief rapist character? Who made sure to bring back the f slur, do not worry. For a movie that overcomplicates a simple conceit and loses everything interesting about it? And The Predator is said to be worse? I pray Prey’ll be worth it. Only gets one star off the back of Changchien and the sword scene
The rare decades later follow up that is better than the original in most every way. Not as gay, but that was hardly intentional in the first and was drowned by the forced romance. This one was much more believable, and the film had firmer emotional stakes and character. Plus much more exciting flying. I’m sure if you grew up on/with Cruise the film’s rumination on his aging and status as one of if not the last true stars in the age of autonomous franchises hits more, but before I saw the Top Guns this weekend the only movie I saw him in was Goldmember, so. Still, a fun time, and I really admire the respect paid to Val Kilmer here.
EDIT: Reading thoughts on the matter none of that matters tho for the negative effect this’ll have as propaganda, the active dehumanization of the enemy, the cowardly refusal to name names, the hyping up of new jets for America and Lockheed to sell, the further rehabilitation of the military’s image… a solid movie does not justify this.
It is truly everything, everywhere, all at once. It balances so many tones, so many genres, with not only deftness but passion. With respect and love to every one. I was sobbing at the big emotional moments, yes, cause they were utterly earned and stunning. But I was tearing up at the action scenes, had tears of laughter at the comedic, and just frequently stunned welling of the eyes at something so creative and full of love. This is a movie of a generation, a movie that undeniably carves its own spot in pop culture and will be remembered for decades to come. It sees us, it hears us, and it isn’t afraid to lay itself bare so that we can bare ourselves too.
And the cast… If it was possible for every member of a central cast to be a standout, this movie did it. James Hong, the character actor who knows exactly what to give every scene. Stephanie Hsu, pulling off a disaffected and wounded young woman in every sense of both words and never losing sight of the heart of a role that could’ve been drowned in overcomplication. Ke-Huy Quan, a straight up revelation, harkening back to Jackie Chan’s earnest goofiness as an action hero and being the beating, bleeding, but always loving heart of the film. He’ll tear you asunder with his crestfallen heartbreak and make your heart soar with his raw and unashamed tenderness, love and kindness pouring from his eyes and every line on his face. And Michelle Yeoh! The center of the movie, holding it all together, acing a role that easily could’ve been unlikable and instead making it one that is real, relatable, cautionary, aspirational, and more, all at once.
I don’t want to overhype this movie. It’s gotten a lot of hype. But it didn’t match that hype. It exceeded it. I could go on and on about the affectionate throwback to Hong Kong action flicks, the incredibly slick and artfully done meta element that actually enhances the film instead of take you out of it, the way that even in its most ridiculous and wild scenes it finds its way back to the heart and themes of the film so that you will cry at the most wonderfully silly contexts. But what can I say that this movie doesn’t? I left that theater grinning, tears in my eyes, still light on my feet. I got in my car laughing and saying ‘holy shit’ to myself. The whole drive home I could think of nothing else. I think that’ll be the case for some time. Not to become a cinema person, but this? This is cinema, babe. This is everything. Everywhere. All at once.
Made by the 'unique' imagery at the end
It's no exaggeration to say Adventure Time ushered in a new generation of cartoons. From animation styles to senses of humor to there being a renaissance of cartoons on its network at all (remember CN Real?), its influence can be felt everywhere. And another area its hand can be felt is the slow but steady rise in gay romance. Benson and Troy of Kipo. Adora and Catra. Ruby and Sapphire. Korra and Asami. And more and more others. I can't resist a shout out to Red Action and Enid, and Boxman and Venomous of OK KO, and Luz and Amity of Owl House, but there are some I don't have time to mention, and that alone is a promising sign. Korra and Asami are often pointed to as the turning point. If not them, Steven Universe. And ignoring the fact that there's no single moment and it's actually a collective effort of marginalized creators fighting for representation and their voices... before any of them, there was Marceline and Bubblegum.
Marceline and Bubblegum have been there through every step of this evolution. First just as the two female characters who of course can't get along. Then the two who are oddly close, with a history and loads of subtext, but it could never be text; even Olivia Olson said at a con that while they would love to make it canon, network restrictions with the excuse of 'we'd be censored in other countries' held them back. And then, as the years went by, with the Korras and the She-Ras, the two joined the ranks of the Gay Finale Kiss. We have nothing left to lose, the show's over anyway, let's go for it. This isn't to begrudge those two shows; with Korra it was literally all they could get, and with She-Ra the love story was built into the premise. But shows like Kipo and Steven Universe presented a new possibility; gay love not as ending, but a beginning, a constant. And with this special, Bubblegum and Marceline enter that latest stage, still a microcosm of this hard earned progress even now.
That's a lot of prelude before I even get into the special itself, but there's a point to it. The process of time and evolution is central to this story. Marceline is no longer the angry young punk, fighting against the world and hiding every hint of vulnerability. Bubblegum is no longer the cold ruler holding her cards to her chest and placing everything else above her own heart. They aren't the young lovers wildly passionate and ready to blow at any moment, or the bitter exes still drawn to each other despite it all- two premises for romance more often central than what they are now. Domestic. Happy. Soft. And good for each other. Marceline in particular is so resonant here. I know so many gays who can relate to her here; I know I did. Lashing out and angry, so sure we'd be all alone and wouldn't it be better if it was our choice? And then we found our people, and our loves, and we grew.
That's the thing. Marceline and Bubblegum didn't only grow with the rise of gay romance in cartoons. They grew with us. And like Marceline, we might worry about being soft, if being happy is somehow wrong. But when you're with the right person, sometimes you feel invincible. Like you'll take your licks, get knocked down, and get back up. Like you have all of eternity together. And this special so encapsulates that feeling of becoming more, of becoming a better version of yourself. Walch and Olson sound so much like a couple in love, the love and joy radiating off the screen, and the rest of the voice cast, Michael Dietz as Glassboy especially, are as endearing and hilarious as ever. And even the antagonist has a hard hitting resolution of healing and growing from pain into something beautiful.
You can grow old. More seasoned, more sentimental, more soft. But that doesn't mean you have to grow old to each other. And both Adventure Time, and the pairing of Bubblegum and Marceline, have gotten better with age, feeling fresher than ever. They've lived long enough to know exactly what they want to say. I know that everything ends, but I can't help but be selfish and hope just a little there's more Adventure Time after these specials. I especially hope there's more of Marcy and PB, a couple that's influenced and grown with the medium in equal measures, and grew with us even more.
Just all bangers. Each skit got at least one big laugh or gasp, and the ending had no right to be so hard hitting.
A unpleasant movie from the perspective of an unpleasant character, and it achieves this in spades. It influenced hundreds of movies in this vein, most recently Joker, but really this is the only one we needed. DeNiro is captivating as Travis, a man who looks at the hell around him and is envious and hateful of those who give in. This hate makes him as wretched as them, if not worse, and he’s a pathetic, horrible being. Foster plays her role to perfection, her childishness highlighting the depravity of the city. It’s well shot and cultivates a smothering atmosphere.
But it’s not a movie that hit me, personally. Whether it’s the influence of all its imitators, or the story itself just not appealing to me, I couldn’t emotionally connect with this movie. I admire it and see it’s impact. But I don’t love it. It’s worth a watch to round out your film base, but it’s not one I’ll feel tempted to return to.
I hate-watched Adventure Time. Hear me out. In the Comet season, it just got so caught up in its own hype, it lost track of what made it great to begin with. I felt like it wasn’t talking to me anymore. Finn became more and more of a jerk. It broke my heart, and even when it changed and got better, I didn’t forgive it. I stuck with it out of obligation, snarked at every episode and never noticed how my snark was getting fonder and fonder as the show found its way back. I didn’t realize I fell in love with it all over again until I was bawling at the final episodes. Adventure Time's finale rencontexualized the show for me. It made me realize I was being too harsh on it, that somewhere along the way it reclaimed a part of my heart. It was a magical feeling, like somehow even its biggest missteps were all part of the same journey. Its sum was bigger than its parts. And its legacy, on a personal level, felt secured. All it took was one amazing finale for the spark I had to be relit.
I can’t say the same of Steven Universe.
Adventure Time's problem was that it could get too heady for its own good, and SU's is the opposite. It thought, often to a fault, too much with its heart. It was a messy show. It seemed to, in the end, settle on the Diamonds as a kind of cycle of abuse thing, and it still doesn't quite work. The more you think about Steven Universe, the less it works. It wants to be both allegory and fairy tale- the Diamonds are a symbol of the system that represses and corrupts and destroys queer lives... but they can be redeemed and they're just traumatized, messy people too. It's both fantasy and true to life- look at all the wacky adventures Steven has! Isn't it fun? The world has 39 states and there's aliens and it's so out there! But also those wacky adventures gave Steven serious trauma that we'll now look through from a more our world lens, like why hasn't this kid seen a doctor and gotten therapy?
It's a balance the show only briefly managed in its early days, and never as consistently as Adventure Time overall, and there's an interestingly fan fic-y feel to Steven Universe Future. It makes sense- Rebecca Sugar and her crew are a generation that grew up on fan fic, on concepts like the post series fic where fans look too deep into how all this cartoon adventures would really affect the protags, and it's fascinating in that way. Those fics are great thought experiments, great as reclamations of stories. The fate of the characters and what happens to them after becomes ours, and it can go a million different ways with new tones and styles without a thought to the original, like storytelling of old. I don’t know if that works as well for an official work. It didn’t quite for me.
But I don’t know if SU could’ve ever ‘won’ with me. As I got older, Steven Universe's idealism didn't resonate with me as much. It felt too easy, it didn't feel real. I didn’t want to be told to understand and emphasize with the Andy DeMayos or the Diamonds of the world and kill them with love like that would change anything. We have proof that it very much does not! The fairy tale of the original show felt less empowering or hopeful and more condescending, on a personal level. It had queer rep galore... but it slowly felt like it didn’t want to show the angry or ugly or bitter side of us. It stopped feeling as relevant to me.
So I should’ve loved Steven Universe Future, right? That gets ugly. That gets real. But the strange thing is, even as Steven Universe Future tried to reach me personally with its framing of trauma and a kid trying to find his place after a lifetime of it... I appreciated it more than I felt it. There wasn't quite the plot or character throughline and cohesion to get me to feel it, even though it was always shooting, undeniably, from the heart. The show was feeling so much, but I was feeling less and less. The heart needed a little more brain.
Here’s the thing. Art can be messy. And that messiness means it does not connect with everyone the same way. Steven Universe as a franchise was messy, and in the end wasn’t my type of mess to leave me sobbing at the finale and always caring about its characters. Every goodbye just got a little aww from me. A little mental appreciation of ‘I should be feeling something here’. Where Adventure Time’s finale left me bawling, love for the show bursting stronger than ever before, both finales of SU left me dry eyed. That may be a failure of the show for me.
But there is a lot of people who that mess did reach, who felt as reflected or as wrecked by that show as I did with Adventure Time or Moonlight or We Know The Devil. There's people who needed Steven Universe's hope, and there's people who watched Future and felt seen. There's kids who grew up on both, with the franchise as a whole, and it'll be a true companion to them. And there's no discounting the monumental work it put into queer rep, the doors it broke down for other shows on the network and beyond. In a way, it doesn’t matter if in my heart I can’t pinpoint what SU means for me. Steven Universe stands for something just by being Steven Universe. There'll be people who will want to be the Steven they want to see in the world, and that's a great thing.
I fell out of love with Steven Universe, and unlike Adventure Time I never quite fell back in love with it. But I'll never stop appreciating it, and even if it doesn't fully hold a place in my heart, it'll be a cornerstone for both western animation and many people's lives. And that's enough, both for it and for myself. I can have a satisfaction just in seeing that. Sometimes a finale doesn’t need to have made the whole show worth it. It doesn’t need to prove to you that you loved it, it doesn’t need to make you feel it in your soul what it is. It did for other people. Sometimes a thing can just end, and you can be happy for it and everyone else who loved it.
Steven Universe ended. Here we are.
Spawn is over the top. It mistakes nudity and blood and expletives to be mature, and comes off as all the more sophomoric for it. Spawn goes big in all things, good- the animation and some of the voice acting- and bad- in camera angles and in its depthless and monstrous villains. Its two biggest strengths that elevate it are the animation, in particular Spawn and his flowing and gorgeous cape, and the character himself.
Nothing will help you understand the appeal of Spawn better than this show, even if it doesn't make you a diehard fan. At the end of the season, he's called The Sad Man, and this could be an alternate title for the show. Spawn is allowed to be emotional, and yes, that includes anger... but it also involves grief, it allows empathy, it allows pain and love. Spawn is allowed to be pathetic- he'll wail in sorrow and scream in traumatic fear- but his pain isn't something to laugh at. You're meant to emphasize and feel for this broken, lost man, and there's something refreshing in that when dark heroes of his ilk like Batman are usually forced to be quiet, restrained, and stoic in their emotions.
Keith David is the show's MVP. The man brings Spawn to life and makes him feel like a person, not the poster child for 90's anti heroes. Every emotion is raw and lived in, and David pours his heart into the role. I didn't expect to ever be emotionally affected by the Spawn character, but David's performance in the final scene with the child of his wife is soft and tender in a way I never expected for the character, and Keith David is the glue that holds it together. He and the animation make this well worth a watch, 90s edge and all.
Look it just delights me. Plain and simple. This rewatch of the series with my sweetie has been a nice way to keep this franchise going just a little longer in my heart
Very sweet but way too short to give any of the topics the full justice they deserve. There’s no time for complexity, to really delve into the hard stuff like what they had to unlearn, their mistakes. Still, cute and heartening.
Wildly vibrant and fantastical, this is a gorgeous and ambitious short in motion that I’m not surprised would be the base for an apparently fantastic show. You can’t take your eyes off it for a second.
Really cathartic short detailing the frustrations of gender therapy, how it so often demands inauthenticity by adhering to a script or you risk not getting what you need or want. It dreams of a better option. Starting my transition, it was really heartening to see this with my complex feelings with my body and how I don’t fit into the box of ‘born into the wrong one’. There’s things I love and there’s things I’d change and that should be okay. And this short holds space for that and believes we can get there.
Just overflowing with love and connection, I was smiling the whole time.
