Bombed Out / Undeterred: Paisan

Paisan (Paisà) is Italian slang for a fellow countryman, a compatriot.

It was the image of Joe (Dots Johnson), an African-American MP, and Pasquale (Alfonsino Pasca), an Italian child and ‘orphaned street urchin,’ that really put the hook in me. With just a few Italian Neorealist films under my belt, I saw a clip of the odd duo planting themselves atop a heap of rubble on the battered streets of Naples and knew this was one for me.

Any time any film before 1970  humanizes black actors, I want to know more. It lights up the hopelessly naive part of my brain eternally seeking some sort of racial reconciliation. This is probably why audience keep turning up for films like ‘Green Book’ despite their surface level and often antiquated reading of race relations– not to mention the controversy. Paisan is not one of these films. It’s actually six vignettes (roughly 20 mins each) about six sets of characters, Joe’s story being episode two. So let’s talk about it.

Episode two takes us into the aftermath of the Allies capture of Naples (circa late 1944). A group of children roam the streets in search of materials to barter or sell. Pasquale, a young orphan, is presented with the opportunity of obtaining a ‘negro.’ *cringes* Tagging along with the other children, he soon meets Joe, a heavily inebriated American solider. Pulling Joe along, the two stroll through the garbage strewn streets of Naples before scaling a mound of rubble and discarded aluminum cans. Pasquale shows Joe his harmonica and Joe tries in vain to play, choosing instead to sing a verse from ‘Nobody Knows The Trouble I’ve Seen.’ In a drunken role-play, Joe takes Pasquale (who he refers to as Paisan) through an idealized version of Allied victory over the Axis powers. Not only does Joe assist in ultimately defeating the Axis powers, he’s personally congratulated by a general and flown back to New York City for a ticker tape parade. Joe’s not selfish, he tells Pasquale he can tag along as they visit Wall Street and Manhattan. In this scenario, he even offers to introduce Pasquale to New York City’s mayor.

As the minutes pass in episode two, it would be easy to look past Joe’s dark skin and see simply another G.I. physically and emotionally shaken by the second World War. Past the first mention of race when the children tell Pasquale he can sell a negro, race is not explicitly stated nor discussed, and yet it is this unique inclusion of an African-America from which the story derives its superior depth. The second world war was a brutal conflict that reshaped the entire world. Millions died fighting and millions more were crushed between the gears of its machinations. Despite unequivocal victory, tens of thousands of men returned home with what we now acknowledge to be PTSD. It was hard on everyone. But there is a particular bitter irony for African-Americans fighting in the war, just as there had been in the first World War, the Civil War, and nearly all wars stretching back to the American Revolution. History shows us that black veterans returning home from the second World War faced harassment, physical harm (including lynching), and were still barred from entering white restaurants, clubs, and schools.  The G.I. Bill which famously uplifted a whole generation, failed miserably at assisting blacks.

All of this to say, things aren’t looking good for Joe– and it shows. Starting out with great gusto, things peter out when reality sets in and Joe bemoans his return home with all the anguish one might expect from someone who sees war as something of a reprieve. “I don’t wanna go home. I don’t wanna go home. My home is nothing but an old shack. I don’t wanna play no more, Paisan,” he says, leaning back with all the fatigue in the world. In brutally honest moment of levity, Pasquale warns Joe not to pass out or he’ll steal his shows, and of course this happens.

“Looky here, America, what you done done? Let things drift until the riots come. Now your policemen let your mobs run free. I reckon you don’t care. Nothing about me. You tell me that HitIer is a mighty bad man. I guess he took lessons from the Ku Klux Klan. You tell me Mussolini’s got an evil heart. Well, it must have been in Beaumont that he had his start. Cause everything that HitIer and Mussolini do, Negroes get the same treatment from you. You Jim Crowed me before Hitler rose to power, and you’re still Jim Crowing me right now, this very hour. Yet you say we’re fighting for democracy. Then why don’t democracy include me? I ask you this question, cause I want to know. How long I got to fight both HitIer and Jim Crow?”
-Langston Hughes

The following day, we see Joe clean shaven in a taut, starched uniform of the Military Police. Joe once again has a chance encounter with Pasquale, eventually discovering that the orphan stole his shoes. Demanding to know where he lives and how to recover his stolen shoes, Joe makes Pasquale take him to his home. So the two take the Jeep and shortly after, arrive at a cave. Inside, Joe is stunned to see dozens of poor men and women hobbling together what little a life they can in the aftermath of the war. The slum strikes a cord with Joe, it pierces something deep inside him, and upon laying eye on the cave slum, Joe ceases the charge to retrieve his shoes and in the next scene he’s seen driving away.

I must admit, pairing the downtrodden struggles of the post-war Italian poor and a black man returning to African-American ghettos of 1940s is a take I considered too nuanced for any non-black filmmaker of the era. Yet, here we are. The climax of episode two brought me to tears. The arc of understanding between an adult and child, black and Italian, with no common tongue between them is both subtle and bold. As soon as the episode finished, I knew I had a new favorite.

Bombed Out / Undeterred: Italian Neorealist Film

Switching gears, I want to talk about a subject outside of the traditional nerd realm: film, the stuff of olden day geeks. Italian Neorealism popped onto my radar some years back simply as the name of a style mimicked in Charles Burnett’s ‘Killer of Sheep.’ I knew nothing about the genre but it appealed to my pretentious curiosity in that it was both foreign and intellectual. A few later, when I got into French New Wave for basically the same reasons. I scooped as many films as I could get my hands on; most were by Jean-Luc Godard. A spectacle for the eyes, his films often flew over my head, but they were also a  gateway into a style and vision wholly new to me as a film lover. So, even more years later, I took it upon myself to really get to know the works of Italian Neorealism.

What is Italian Neorealism?

“The proponents of this politically committed reaction to the glossy, studio-bound, Hollywood-influenced productions approved by Mussolini’s regime were determined to take their cameras to the streets, to neglected communities and their surroundings, to show the ‘real Italy’ in all its diversity. Here was a new kind of cinema, one that returned to its roots, a people’s cinema that chronicled the struggle against Nazism but also highlighted the hardship and upheaval of the post-war period.”
-Pasquale Iannone, Film Lecturer, writer and broadcaster, British Film Institute

This meant a focus on the desolation of the Italian people and Italy itself in the years following the second World War. Scenes shot among the rubble and debris are a defining feature of genre. You would be hard pressed to find a Neorealist film where the characters are not strolling along war-torn avenues or climbing over lumps of shattered concrete. These films focused on issues of poverty and the every day life of the working class and poor. They were a meditation on the process of shifting away from fascism and the literal devastation left in its wake. Neorealist films did not shy away from subjects like infidelity, crime, and prostitution. Directors held a lens up to the seedier elements of society, previously concealed in Italian film during Mussolini’s reign (1922-1945).

I’m attracted to these melancholic films because of their grainy texture and the undercurrents of rebirth. Seventy years after the fact, I know that by the end of the 1950s Italy’s economy will have bounced back and that nation will heal, physically and artistically, in the years to come. But Roberto Rossellini could not see into the future, neither could Alain Resnais or Vittorio De Sica. Standing the literal rubble of a world war, coming down from a twenty year fascist overdose, they saw through the destruction to another Italy, one still in its conception. Our modern era has seen a resurgence of violent hate crimes, racial and antisemitic, along with an ever increasing trend of authoritarian strong men taking power. As the modern era flirts dangerously with the follies of the mid-twentieth century, I look back to the anti-fascist artistic and political movements of the past for assurance, hope, and strategy.

The next few post will be reviews for a few of my favorite Italian Neorealist films.

*PS~ Here’s a great (and quick) video essay by No Film School (video).

Cowboy Bebop Live Action & Casting

A few weeks ago, news of a long-awaited adaptation of the 90s cult classic, Cowboy Bebop, sent vibrations through the internet. Produced by Netflix with Shinichiro Watanabe (original director) serving as a ‘consultant,’ the show is slated to have 10 episodes in its debut.

Debates over the aesthetic, the acting, cultural considerations, and the direction of the shows semi-present story arc are sure to trickle out over the following months. Today, I want to talk about the casting, since this week the character breakdown list which included specific and non-specific directions casting the characters respective ethnicity.

A quick bit about my history with Cowboy Bebop and why I’m excited to discuss these details. I bought the Session 1 DVD of Bebop at my local mall at the age of 13. I was immediately enraptured with it slick animation, its brooding tone paired with fast jazz and traditional blues, its mashing of races and cultures, and the litter of western pop-culture references and nods. A few months later when I’d collected all six DVDs, I re-watched the series, and then again, and again. I would say that by the time I graduated from high school, I had watched all 26 episodes and the movie upwards 15-20 times. Some of my favorite individual episodes pushed 50 viewings and I could recite some of the dialogue by heart. I watched the American premiere of ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door‘ at Anime Expo 2002. To this day, Bebop remains my favorite short anime (Under 50 episodes– my own arbitrary way of categorizing).

I remember during the early 00’s when there was a very real possibility of Keanu Reeves helming a live-action adaptation, wherein he would play Spike Spiegel. Around that time, I was super into Constantine and The Matrix and could think of no better actor to assume the lead role. I mean that genuinely. At that point, Reeves was well accustomed to martial arts training and had worked under some of the best stunt coordinators in Hollywood. To add to that, he even possessed the look of the lanky, apathetic bounty hunter. And Reeves even claimed to be a huge fan of the source material, which as a young nerd was super important to me– he’ll be too invested to fuck it up, I thought. This was years before ‘Ghost in the Shell’ with Scarlett Johansson and a mainstream conversation on whitewashing in film. I was more invested in whether film could capture the rundown futuristic flavor of Bebop.

Years passed and no Bebop adaptation came. Every now and then I still see folks calling for Keanu to assume the role of Spike, which now seems silly since Reeves is 54 (and would play a 27 year old). I’d given up on the hope of every seeing Spike, Vicious, Faye, Julia, Ed, Jet, and Ein on the big screen… or at least my television. But everything moves in waves, especially the pop-culture we consume. So, let’s take a look at the casting descriptions and see why Netflix has in mind.

**No worries. Spoiler Free**

Spike Spiegel

“An Asian (or partially Asian) man in his mid 20’s to mid 30’s and must have athletic ability. Spike is the young and handsome male lead with a body like Bruce Lee. His carefree demeanor hides a seriously dangerous individual. Spike is prone to shoot first and improvise, unlike his more serious partner Jet, but he gets the job done. Spike tries to hide his sensitive side but is a sucker for a damsel in distress and is haunted by his past.”

An Asian guy named Spike Spiegel? Odd, right? I would say, sort of. Traditionally, anime characters come in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and unless specified, are assumed to be Japanese. Bebop, however, leaps regions and intentionally states that it features a clash of cultures. Spike even mentions his Martian birth in the first episode. Being that this is an adaptation of Japanese media, and given the recent backlash another Netflix adaptation received– Iron Fist, which features a white, martial artist protagonist in a predominately Asian setting, its safe bet that they (hopefully) learned and opted for an Asian lead.

In high school, my best friend would argue, convincingly so, that Spike is Jewish. My friend, of Jewish decent himself, pointed to Spikes unruly curls and the surname Spiegel. To this day, if you google ‘Spike Spiegel+Jewish’ it will reveal a wealth of message board debates and websites dedicated to uncovering this possible truth– like this one.

Faye Valentine

“An Asian (or mixed heritage) woman in her early 20’s to mid 30’s and must have athletic ability. Faye is the female lead of the show. She is an attractive bounty hunter with a sharp tongue. She’s a survivor who will con anyone to get what she wants. Faye has no memory of her early life, including family or friends. So, even though she’ll never admit it, she likes working with the other members of the Bebop crew.”

Perhaps its the look of her hair and eyes, but Faye seems the most obvious to me. I’m not so cavalier as to pin any specific nationality to her background, but she reads Asian in her physical features.

I like that Netflix included ‘or mixed race,’ though that could be applied in problematic ways. Being multiracial myself, I’m all for greater representation of mixed folks, though I am anxious that we could end up getting a nearly white-passing actor.

Whoever they pick will carry the bulk of the show’s ‘sex-appeal’ while also portraying Faye’s tragically scattered past. That’s a tall order.

Jet Black

“An African American (or partial African American) man in his mid 30’s to early 50’s. An ex-cop, Jet looks intimidating but is a softy at heart. He became fed up with the corrupt system, but he still catches criminals as a bounty hunter. While Jet believes in the law, he will always back up a friend. Occasionally, he will even relax and have fun.”

Honestly, this reveal solidified my interest in this project. As a teenager, it was a known and accepted FACT that Jet Black was… black. In that same way, that we know Max and Goofy are black. Yes, his skin color is light. Jet, if black, is hella light-skinned. Maybe it was his old head demeanor or his uncle vibes, but we just knew. I mean, you knew that when watching it in Japanese. Switch over to the English dub and Jet is voiced by black voice actor, Beau Billinslea– look at that melanin.

The direction casting is taking makes me so happy. Not only will it mean a black main character, but a black main character among a (potentially) Asian cast. How often does that happen? Seriously! How dope will that be?

Radical Ed

14-year-old girl, must have athletic ability and short stature. Ed is a 14-year-old computer genius and expert hacker whose talents are indispensable. She is extremely energetic with a child-like wonder and is eccentric, bordering on the bizarre.

Interesting that no racial/ethnic direction is given. This seems like a great opportunity to cast an actress of Latinx, Arab, or South Asian decent. Ed’s brown skin and ambiguous backstory leaves the door wide open for all kinds of interpretation.

Surprise me, Netflix!

Vicious

A man in his mid 20’s to mid 30’s of any ethnicity, with pale skin and white hair. Vicious is the merciless leader of the criminal organization known as the Syndicate. He will kill anyone who gets in the way of his business without a second thought.

To me, the casting of Vicious seems directly related to whoever they choose for Spike. If I had to bet, I would say one will be Caucasian and the other Asian. American pop culture loves to play on the whole ‘we’re not biological brothers, but we’re all the stronger because of a cross-cultural bond.’ I’m talkin’ out my ass here, but that’s my prediction. If they cast an Asian actor for Spike, then Vicious will be Caucasian, and vice versa.

Personally, both fit for me. Vicious isn’t derived of any cultural significance, nor are Vicious’ origins known. Whoever they cast better have a deep, brooding voice. That’s all I ask.

Julia

“A woman in her mid 20’s to mid 30’s of any ethnicity. Julia is a sophisticated blonde damsel in distress that has a mysterious connection to Spike. She appears to him in visions and whispers to him about his past. The real Julia is the girlfriend of the merciless Syndicate leader Vicious.”

Lastly, we have Julia– of ‘any ethnicity.’ Personally, Julia has always read white to me but I think this is actually an opportunity to play around with her character. With the only requirement being that she maintains a blond head of hair, I ask, what about a brown skin Julia? Race is in no way integral to her backstory and the direction her arc takes. Why not give the show a bit more melanin?

Conclusion:

There will inevitably be debate, maybe even controversy when the cast is finally assembled– Will it be too white? Not Asian enough? As I said before, I hope that Netflix has learned from the mistakes of the live action Ghost in the Shell, and last year’s Death Note. This will undoubtedly be a show aimed at Western audiences, which while more diverse than Japanese audiences, are still very white. Fortunately, there’s more room for error than say a production of Akira or Spirited Away, which bear a great deal more significance to Japanese history and culture.

“Jazz agers, flower children, lost generation, beatniks, rockers, punks, nerds, hackers, lovers, Generation X – whatever the designation, there have always been outlaws in our society who live in pursuit of autonomy.

The year 2071 AD. That future is now. Driven out of their terrestrial Eden, humanity chose the stars as the final frontier. With the section-by-section collapse of the former nations, a mixed jumble of races and peoples came. They spread to the stars, taking with them the now confused concepts of freedom, violence, illegality

and love, where new rules and new generation of outlaws came into being. People referred to them as…”

Bebop, unlike most of its peers, overtly leans into multiculturalism, it thrives on it. In our current climate, where actors of color are pushing further and further into the mainstream, this presents a unique opportunity, one that I hope the creative team embraces.

I have got to say, these little details regarding the cast have got me hyped. I’m genuinely excited for whatever comes. Years back, I gave up my purist stance on the anime. I’m just excited for the potential of a whole new generation discovering Cowboy Bebop.

Until next time… See you, Space Cowboy.

Late to the Party: Yu Yu Hakusho is Everything

I started watching Yu Yu Hakusho on VRV, two months ago, partially because of the impending split with Funimation, but most because of @BlackGirlsAnime‘s deep and ceaseless love of the anime/manga– you should be following her. Foolishly, I thought I could marathon 112 episodes in 3-4 weeks before VRV lost the rights to the anime– don’t worry, every episode is on Hulu, now. Two months later, I’m halfway through the anime… and loving it.

The motivation for writing this piece came when I realized how little credit I have given to Yu Yu Hakusho, and how much it deserves– basically, I’ve spent years heaping all the praise on Dragon Ball Z for creating most of the shōnen archetypes and tropes. I know I’m about two decades behind but I would like to talk about why Yu Yu Hakusho is great and why it’s so important. I will draw some (loose) comparisons to subsequent manga/anime.

Written and illustrated by Yoshihiro Togashi, Yu Yu Hakusho debuted in November 1990 in Shueiesha’s Weekly Shōnen Jump. It follows the adventures of 14 year old Yusuke Urameshi who gives his life to save a little girl from getting run over. He’s revived by Koenma, prince of the spirit realm, who deems him good Spirit Detective material.

Yusuke wastes no time delving into the business of spirit detectives. Along his foray into the world of yokai, he is joined by longtime high school rival Kuwabara, and the demons Hiei and Kuruma, the four form bonds that transcend the human, demon, and spirit realms.

**Warning: Mild SPOILERS AHEAD.**

One thing I love about Yu Yu Hakusho, and this was pointed out to me by someone else, is how it displays positive male-male relationships and rivalries. Hiei, Kuruma, Kuwabara, and Yusuke dedicate substantial amounts of time to be their training, each is in their own pursuit of strength and skills, this is just as it is in many shōnen anime. What separates Yu Yu Hakusho is the degree to which the main character support and nurture the talents of their peers. Prior to the Dark Tournament arc, the four warriors come together and from then on, they function as a group– each member is as critical to their total success as the next. They are a unit. There isn’t a Goku or a Luffy or a Naruto/Sasuke who run so far ahead of the pack, that the conclusion of each arc depends solely on their might. Yu Yu Hakusho is about teamwork, plain and simple.

I want to pair Yu Yu Hakusho with Dragon Ball Z for a moment because both maintain a massive influence over Shonen manga, the highest grossing and arguably most recognized anime genre in Japan and overseas. Both aired during the same era:

Yu Yu Hakusho: aired from November 1990 until July 1994.

Dragon Ball Z: aired from April 1989 until January 31, 1996.

Both series draw heavy inspiration from Buddhist fables, Hakusho more from the occult, though through their shared inspiration, they also share characters modeled from the same Buddhist deity, Yama.

King Enma (Yu Yu Hakusho)

King Yenma (Dragon Ball Z)

More importantly, both series revolve around young heroes from humble backgrounds who ascend to extraordinary levels of physical strength. Dragon Ball is dominated by muscle freaks who look like they live at the gym. The outcome of any Dragon Ball fight is usually determined by the sheer amount of ki (energy) a character possess– this means that we leave some of the well known Dragon Ball characters in dust, fairly quickly. If Dragon Ball Z was a band, Goku would be the front man the people paid to see– think Mick Jagger (Rolling Stones), Micheal Jackson (Jackson 5), Beyoncé (Destiny’s Child). Whoever joins him in a fight usually serving to demonstrate how necessary Goku is to their survival. This isn’t the case with Yu Yu Hakusho, which features smaller, more unisex heroes working in a very collaborative effort. The moment I realized it wasn’t just a show about pummeling another brawn baddie came with Master Genkai’s passing. Using Togoro, a former ally, who in a mad quest for power relinquishes his humanity to transition into an ageless demon, as a cautionary tale, Genkai warns:

“Listen to me Yusuke. Everyone must fight against time… he ran away from that fight. He threw away his pride, his soul, and his friends… don’t make that mistake, Yusuke. You are not alone, don’t forget who you’ve become strong for.”

None of this is to disparage the Dragon Ball franchise, which I love and is the very thing that got me into anime in the first place, but to say that watching Yu Yu Hakusho has given me a greater understanding of some of my favorite anime that developed in its wake like Naruto, Hunter x Hunter, One Piece, Bleach, and Inu-Yasha.

Follow along as I make (loose) comparisons.

• Writer & illustrator Yoshihiro Togashi would go on to create and helm the massively successful and influential Hunter x Hunter, featuring a protagonist (Gon) with wielding a fishing rod as a weapon and tool of spiritual divination. We meet a proto-version of his character in the much less likeable Ura Urashima, during the underworld tournament in Yu Yu Hakusho.

Ura Urashima (Yu Yu Hakusho)

Gon (Hunter x Hunter)

• Before the brooding, raven haired Uchiha Sasuke arrived on the scene in Kishimoto Masashi’s Naruto, there was the demon, Hiei. Masashi has openly stated his affinity for Yu Yu Hakusho and stated that it was an inspiration for Naruto.

• In 1994, Shōnen Jump premiered Rurouni Kenshin, a manga about a wandering ronin called , who has left a life of death behind him in search of redemption. Himura Kenshin is a soft spoken, red haired warrior with a cross shape scar across his face. Sound familiar? I don’t know if this was intended, but seeing as how both appear in the same publication, there’s definite grounds for probing.

Kuruma

Himura Kenshin

• Inuyasha debuted in 1996 through Weekly Shōnen Sunday. It featured a half human/half demon protagonist with a familiar likeness. Though both Kuruma and Inuyasha borrow from the same occult mythology, it can’t be denied that Rumiko Takahashi’s Inuyasha and Sesshomaru bears a striking resemblance to Kuruma’s Demon Fox Form.

Kuruma (Yu Yu Hakusho)

Inuyasha (Inuyasha)

• Kurapika, a main protagonist in Hunter x Hunter, Yoshihiro Togoshi’s massively successful follow-up, is said to be heavily inspired by Kuruma. Both are boy prodigies, both are androgynous, both are exceptionally intelligent, and soft spoken. Kurapika wields a magically imbued chain, whereas Kuruma wields a rose whip.

Kuruma

Kurapika

• Kuruma is also the name of the Nail Tailed Demon Fox in Naruto. This is said to be a nod to Yu Yu Hakusho.

Conclussion:

When paired with some of its modern successors, Yu Yu Hakusho’s animation may feel dated– more so in seasons 1 & 2. It may feel a bit like going back to the fundamentals for younger anime fans, but I can’t stress how worth a watch it is. This is an anime that leaves you feeling good. Think of it like listening to your favorite band’s favorite band. Neither is Yu Yu Hakusho a case of static characters. Throughout each arc, we see each character pressed and forced to make tough decisions. Often, they must put aside their personal well-being in favor of the survival of the group.

If you’re looking for a show to binge, this winter, look no further than Yu Yu Hakusho.

Riri Williams: Ironheart #1

The wait is over! This week, Riri Williams: Ironheart #1 arrived on shelves. Sociologist and author, Eve L. Ewing takes the helm as writer– I have not had a chance to pick up any of her work but I’m going to ask for Ghosts in the Schoolyard: Racism and School Closing’s On Chicago’s Southside for Christmas. Kevin Libranda and Luciano Vecchio bring Riri’s world to life and Matt Milla adds a unique vibrancy.

If you’re unfamiliar with Riri Williams, a little rundown. Created by the wonderful Brian Michael Bendis as way for his black daughters to see themselves represented in the wider world of heroics. Hailing from the south-side of Chicago, Riri was diagnosed as a ‘super genius’ as a young child. Before graduating from high school, she loses both her biological and step father to separate incidents of gun violence. Living with her mother, Riri struggles to find a place among her peer group. When Tony Stark goes M.I.A. during the events of Civil War II, Riri comes to the assistance of the Avengers. In the subsequent months, she assumes the Invincible Iron-Man mantle and the run follows her adventures.

Much to my dismay, her run was cut short in favor of the reemergence of Tony Stark (Tony Stark: Iron-Man #1). For the majority of 2018, Riri appeared only in monthly issues of the Champions— If you’re not reading, then you should be. Up until a recent battle with Thanos, Riri’s armor mimicked Tony’s classic red and yellow design as closely as possible. Laughing, the Mad Titan crushes her armor without breaking a sweat. Through sheer luck, her and the other Champions are able to escape, but the trauma lingers. In her grief, Riri devises a new suit of armor, an upgrade…

**From this point on there will be SPOILERS.**

We drop in on Riri, en route to  Massachusetts Institute of Technology. It seems Clayton Cole (Clash) has taken a group of world leaders hostage in an effort to prove his worth to the legendary Ten Rings syndicate. There’s not a whole lot to Clash that we haven’t seen in the likes of Ulysses Klaw or Wonderman, but it’s a solid showcase of Ironheart’s new abilities for those not following The Champions. I wasn’t sold on her new armor the first few times I saw it, but I’ll admit it has grown on me. Initially, I was resistant because I loved (still do) the idea of a black woman taking over the mantle of Iron-Man, colors and all. If we’re being real though, Riri will probably build a plethora of suits, given the time and issues.

Riri thwarting the half-baked schemes of a low-level villain are secondary for me in this debut issue. Ewing sprinkles in loads of little details that color Riri’s life and personality.

What we learn:

• A copy of Carl Sagan’s ‘Cosmos’ and a Sherlock Holmes Compendium sit atop her desk.
• She snacks on ‘Hot’ Cheetos, Nutella, and orange soda.
• She’s a huge Trekkie. “I like The Next Generation because of Geordi but have you ever watched Deep Space Nine?”
• Not only does Riri cosplay, she makes her own costumes because, of course.

The crux of the issue is Riri’s disassociation with everything outside her laboratory– friends, family, human contact. This seems predictable for a debut issue featuring a teenage protagonist but it didn’t line up for me, since if you’ve read any recent issue of Champions, you’ll know Riri has supportive peer group in Brawn, Nova, Viv Vision, Miles Morales, Kamala Khan, and so on. It was sort of weird that they weren’t mentioned at all but I understand wanting to give Riri a moment to thrive on her own. It gives us a chance to get to know Xavier, a lifelong friend of Riri’s from their old neighborhood. The two bond over pop-culture and music, and we see Riri open up a little.

The issue concludes with a surprise. As we’ve all come to learn how much Tony Stark depends on JARVIS, so too will Riri need her own A.I. For a brief period of the Invincible Iron-Man run, Tony’s downloaded consciousness was gifted to Riri (from Tony himself) to work as her A.I. system but it was eventually claimed by the Stark Corporation as their ‘rightful’ property. I couldn’t have thought of a more perfect mentor/A.I. to start off with… Then we meet Natalie.

Ironheart #1 is a slowburn. Personally, in the age of multiple Civil, Secret, and Infinity Wars, a simple drop in on the life of a hero is what I’m craving. We’ve seen enough apocalyptic excitement, recently. I want to get to know Riri and I want for her, the space to play, learn, and grow. Marvel has scant loyalty to their black characters. Last year, ‘World of Wakanda’ authored by the immensely talented Roxanne Gay, was canceled before it’s third issue was released. ‘Black Panther and the Crew,’ written by Ta-Nehisi Coates was canceled shortly after the release of it’s first issue. Mind you, both of these titles were dropped because of ‘poor sale’ just months before the Black Panther film breezed past the BILLION dollar mark in box office returns. Gizmodo published a great piece on the cancellation (read here).

While Riri is a technically an updated version of an old hero, her being black, a woman, a victim of gun violence, and (NOT) super-rich opens the door for all kinds of fresh and relevant story lines. Pick up Ironheart #1 if you’re looking the new classic.

Art by Jen Bartel

Remembering Stan Lee

Last week saw the passing of a legend and a founder. We lost Stan Lee. His passing was marked by an outpouring of grief the world over. For the mind that gave us Spider-Man, Iron-Man, Hulk, and the X-Men was no more. My social media feed was immediately flooded with tributes and collective mourning.

To be honest, Stan’s passing was something I mentally prepared for years ago. Like my great-grandmother, he reach his nineties. Any time someone makes it that high in years, grief over their passing feels inappropriate, though I’m in no way judging others for their reaction. Now that we are able to see the complete arc of his life and career, it’s really beautiful. To go from spitting out serialized heroes in an burgeoning industry for peanuts to seeing his characters take flight as a multi-billion dollar industry ranging from countless movies, to television shoes, to toys, costumes, and board games… I can’t even imagine.

Stan Lee cameos in the series finale in 1998

My first memories of Stan were in the 1994 animated Spider-Man series. His distinctive voice, frames and mustache would become as recognizable as the blue and red Spider suit we’ve all come love over the years. I’ll always remember putting in the Spider-Man game for the Nintendo 64 and hearing Stan announce,

“Welcome, True Believers and newcomers alike! Spider-Man co-creator Stan Lee here. Once again we find our hero Peter Parker, better known around the world as the amazing Spider-Man, in a heap of trouble. But this is just the beginning, Spidey fans. So get ready for a true superhero action thriller, packed to the brim with thrills and chills, twists and turns, more super-villains than you can shake a web at, and of course, non-stop web-slinging, wall-crawling action.”

In the years after, myself and millions of others would come to lovingly anticipate his cameo in every big screen adaption of Marvel heroes.

Here’s my Top 5:

5.) Spider-Man 3 (2007)

“You know, I guess one person really can make a difference…
[pats Peter Parker on shoulder]
‘Nuff said!

4.) Thor (2011)

This is the one where Stan tries unsuccessfully to pull Mjolnir (Thor’s Hammer) in his pick-up. The tug ends up ripping the back end of his truck off, but Stan don’t care.

3.) Captain-America: Civil War (2016)

The gif says it all. I will never get tried of Tony Stark burns. I literally burst out laughing the first time I saw this.

2.) The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)

No words, just sweet ignorant bliss. I love the perspective in this scene. We get the classic wall-crawler moves, as Peter, quick and nimble is able to flip and maneuver around the room with one eye on the villain and the other on the innocent bystander. Ol’ Stan exits without the faintest clue.

1.) Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)

After Janet van Dyne (Wasp) shrinks his car, Stan dryly laments, “Well, the 60s were fun, but now I’m paying for it.” This has me crankin’ up whenever I think of it. I don’t know if it’s the absurdity of the 60s only catching up with him in 2018, or the implication that Stan Lee was tripped out on LSD and cannabis in the 60s, or simply that Stan resigns himself calmly to mishap. This one really got me.

Conclusion

I don’t want to get into the battle for Stan Lee’s estate or his ancient feud with Spider-Man co-creator Steve Ditko, but I’d encourage you go down those rabbit holes. Nor do I want to delve into his disappointing take (in 2015) on re-imagining Spider-Man as someone other than white and heterosexual. The man had his flaws that I’m sure some talented director will dive into in a future biopic. Today, I’d like to honor him.

Stan,

It’s not often someone dies and leaves an entire multiverse behind. I am so infinitely indebted to the work you’ve done, Mr. Lee. Since I was a little boy your heroes have provided me with adventure, thrills, values, and inspiration. your distinct vocal tinge and iconic aviators will be missed, but you’re on another plane now.

Farewell!

Anti-Colonialist Sentiments in Thor: Ragnarok

On December 27, 1845, in his newspaper the New York Morning News, Journalist and influential Jacksonian advocate, John L. O’Sullivan wrote in response to the ongoing Oregon border dispute with the British,

“And that claim is by the right of our manifest destiny to overspread and to possess the whole of the continent which Providence has given us for the development of the great experiment of liberty and federated self-government entrusted to us.”

Heavy stuff but the phrasing was contagious and the sentiment would go on to dominate American policy in the 19th century. Fast forward to little ol’ me in Social Studies/History class. I loved learning about American history and ‘World History’ (as European history was dubiously referred). I remember learning about Manifest Destiny as a kid and thinking, “That’s awesome!” From my uncomfortable plastic desk at the tail end of the 20th century it made perfect sense. Of course! It was our collective destiny to settle the frontier! It was our destiny to reach California and the Pacific ocean. Ocean to Ocean, what a stupendous idea! The America I knew was vast and sprawling and that was all thanks to the brave explorers who set out to tame the west!

Unfortunately, the version of history handed down to me was heavily sanitized. Scrubbed of the countless indigenous massacres, treaty betrayals, the effects of the Mexican-American War, and the eventual establishment of ‘White Utopias‘ throughout Oregon and the northwest, it simplified the acquisition of the west to the triumph of civilization over savage populations and an unforgiving terrain.

During Thor: Ragnarok we see this reflected in Asgard’s history as they became the seat of power throughout the Nine Realms. After returning from exile, Hela, the former king’s executioner, is astonished to discover what has become of her former home. In the throne room she scoffs,

“Does no one remember me? Has no one been taught our history? Look at these lies. Goblets and garden parties? Peace treaties? Odin… Proud to have it, ashamed of how he got it. We were unstoppable. I was his weapon in the conquest that built Asgard’s empire. One by one, the realms became ours. But then, simply because my ambition outgrew his, he banished me, caged me, locked me away like an animal.”

Ragnarok is easily the best Thor installment and arguably in the top Marvel films. Taika Waititi brings his distinct and awkwardly charming humor, the action scenes stand up to any Avengers film, and the casting of Kate Blanchett, Tessa Thompson, Karl Urban, and Jeff Goldbloom was pure gold. Still, the element that grabbed me the most was the dialogue, specifically that of the film’s antagonist Hela. It can’t be understated that time in which this film was released, nor that its director comes from a Maori background. Yes, it’s a Disney film, and yes it’s a popcorn flick, but that doesn’t change the fact that anti-colonialism is baked into this film. Let’s get into it!

A quick recap for those unfamiliar with the Thor film series. The story begins with the snotty, ascendant prince Thor. Impatient and brutish, he longs for Odia to hand for the throne to cement his cosmic reign. And it is because of these traits that he is cast out and stripped of his powers. Left in Midgard (Earth) to learn some damn compassion, Thor grows his heart. He learns there’s so much more to ruling than simply smashing and conquering. The throne requires valor, humility, and a cool head. We see Thor continue to cultivate these traits in the subsequent sequels and Avengers installments, so by the time his long estranged sister shows up ready for more pillaging, his idea of reigning is far removed.

Asgard, like Europe and the United States, was once dominated by its thirst for conquest. Like our Andrew Jackson, Odin road through the Nine Realms pillaging and murdering various races like the Ice Giants. We are asked to consider how Asgard with its golden towers and galactic prestige came to attain such qualities. Through Hela’s disdain we learn it is precisely because of these atrocities that Asgard became, well Asgard.

It’s significant that Hela was banished, that she was sent into exile but not killed. Her views are toxically regressive but they persist. It’s no mistake that this is juxtaposed with the most racially diverse Asgard we’ve seen to date. Much like America’s resurgence of open White Supremacy and an uptick of racial violence in the past decade, Hela seeks to resort Asgard with the same bloodthirsty ambition which made Asgard… great.

“We were once the seat of absolute power in the cosmos. Our supremacy was unchallenged. Yet Odin stopped at Nine Realms. Our destiny is to rule over all others. And I am here to restore that power. Kneel before me and rise into the ranks of my great conquest.”
-Hela

“In recent years, and even decades, too many people have forgotten that truth. They’ve forgotten that our ancestors trounced an empire, tamed a continent, and triumphed over the worst evils in history… We have become a lot stronger lately. We are not going to apologize for America. We are going to stand up for America”
-Donald Trump, May 2017

It cannot be argued that American domestic and foreign policy has shifted dramatically since becoming a ‘super power’ and despite firm Neoliberal policies we have collectively sought to be a guiding moral force– though this perception has largely shattered by the Trump administration. There are those of us who fight for a more just future, one that truly lives up the proclamations of our current nation. But to make a significant change, a dynamic shift forward, we as a people must first acknowledge where we came from. We are a nation built on stolen indigenous land taken in blood, and tilled on the backs of African slaves. Our character was cultivated by greedy, white slave owners and sustained through Jim Crow and exclusionary laws, as well as violent raids. America would be nothing without exploitation and theft, just as Asgard wouldn’t be shit without conquest. But it isn’t Hela or Trump who shy away from carnage, it is those who wish to rule these respective nations without actually acknowledging our dark side.

“It would seem our father’s solution to every problem was to cover it up. You see, you never knew him, not at his best. Odin and I drowned entire civilizations in blood and tears. Where do you think all this gold came from? And then one day he decided to become a benevolent king. To foster peace, to protect life.”
-Hela

This produces a conflict among our heroes as Thor, against overwhelming odds, strives to return to Asgard to unseat Hela, while Loki and Valkyrie resign themselves to a life exile and apathetic brooding. Thor, grown wiser and more compassionate throughout his short reign, comes to grips with his father’s bloody past. He knows he cannot go back and alter time but he can rule with a much softer hand.

“I understand why you’re angry. And you are my sister, and technically have a claim to the throne. And believe me, I would love for someone else to rule. But it can’t be you. You’re just the worst.”
-Thor

Conclusion:
I don’t think it’s any mistake that Ragnarok concludes with the destruction of Asgard and Odin’s parting wisdom, “Asgard is not a place, it’s a people.” This film is ultimately a reckoning with the past and an argument for the complete dismantling of an empire. What is Asgard without magnificent structures, its gold and it’s treasure room, it’s supremacy? A lot, apparently. The who survive its destruction do so because of their selflessness and courage.

Oh and along the way, they pick up Korg and Miek!

Daredevil Season 3: Rigid Morality and the Lives It Costs

There’s a moment in the middle of Frank Miller’s classic Batman run ‘The Dark Knight Returns’ (1986) that I’m struggling to find a panel to evidence. I’ll do my best to paint a picture. Batman, now in his 50s, returns to Gotham a cranky, grizzled middle-aged man. His return serves to reignite the Joker (comatose for a decade or so) and his will wreak havoc.  Being the criminal genius that he is, Joker quickly and effortlessly secures his own release through the misguided efforts of a prominent psychologist. Wasting no time, he murders hundreds, many of the deaths being televised. In the hunt for the sadistic clown, Batman is forced to wrestle with his CODE of never taking a life. He wonders how many innocent people had died, and would continue to die, because of Joker’s existence, and how much of the blood was on his hands because he could not bring himself to end Joker for good– to kill him.

It was this segment that sat with me throughout season three of Marvel Netflix’s Daredevil as we see the reemergence of Wilson Fisk, now haled as The Kingpin. Pushed to his emotional limit, an already broken Matt Murdock is forced to grapple with not only the inability of the legal system to stop Fisk, but also it’s easy corruptibility. He must debate how many more will die in Fisk’s conquest for power? And how responsible is Daredevil if Fisk persists?

**Before we go any further, I want to warn you there will be MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. If you have not finished Daredevil season three and you don’t want to know the ending, stop reading. Okay, you’ve been warned. Let’s get into it.**

In the first act of the season, audiences are pushed to consider whether a madman like Fisk can be reformed or at least blunted by romantic love. This is juxtaposed with an unhinged Matt Murdock coping with severe physical and emotional trauma. Matt has distanced himself from his friends both super and not, and he refuses to even wear the Daredevil armor, which I get you want symbolism in your aesthetic but what he subjects his body to is difficult to watch. What remains of Matt is an unceasing determination to prevent Fisk’s rise, even at a cost of own life. For a couple episodes it even looks as though Matt/Daredevil is the actual antagonist, hell bent on ruining the life and reputation of a man who has paid (a portion of) his debt to society through time served.

Marvel’s Daredevil

Once Fisk, or the Kingpin, is revealed in the second act to be the murderous crime-lord we know and love, Matt is forced to decide what stopping him really means. He must choose between his personal moral code drawn from his deep Catholic faith, and the lives of innocents in Hell’s Kitchen.

So, let’s talk about violence. I am no expert, I have no academic background. I am history nerd and I enjoy reading political theory, but again, not an expert in any of these fields. These are just my views, opinions. Add some salt, if you will.

I believe there’s a difference between the violence of assault, say attacking an individual physically because they angered you, or got in your way, or because you wanted to lash out, and the violence of striking back against an oppressive force/organization like a government or corporation. And even in that, I’m very selective on the political violence I endorse. I get that the line is very blurry. In my short lifetime, my peers and I have seen America overtaken by acts of political violence.

There was a moment in the 1930s when heroes slayed their foes, even Batman. The ‘No Kill’ trope gained prominence in comic books in the 40s. Morality shifted during the second World War, leading to more empathetic heroes. In this, they drew the biggest distinction yet in a subculture of costumed individuals. It ceded the moral high ground to the heroes and altered the fashion in which they thwarted their prey. You couldn’t simply shoot or explode your villain anymore, and as far as I’m concerned that wasn’t a bad thing. This makes sense in that you can have reoccurring villains and the limits of force pushed writers to be more creative.

Both Daredevil and Batman live-action adaptations are perfect vehicles for this style of creativity to flourish. Neither can summon lightning, or fly, or lift a car with their bare hands. They rely on constant martial arts training, non-lethal weaponry, and an intimacy with the streets they are sworn to protect. This leads to some amazing brawls in alleys, basements, hallways, and sewers. Despite the prevalence of the extraordinary Avengers and X-Men, audiences still clamor for tales of every-men pushed their physical limits in the street-level pursuit of justice.

But what happens when the hero finally collides with a force so powerful it can’t be contained in a jail, so influential it can’t be punished, and so determined it will murder again and again? What do you do when that villain is The Kingpin and he has a major chunk of the FBI in his pocket, as well as most of the prison staff and several government officials? What do you do when no one you know is safe from Fisk’s wrath? These are the questions Matt, as well as, Karen and Foggy must grapple with in season 3.

 

I’ll start with Karen who we get to know much better this time around. Half an episode is dedicated to a traumatic event from her past in which she kills her brother while driving under the influence. Karen must also own up to killing James Wesley during the events of season 1. She really takes a hard look at herself and what kind of person she has been and because of this she floats morally. We see Karen lay down false threats mid-interrogation, lies which could jeopardize her career. She also goes on a solo mission to enrage the Kingpin to the point where he’ll strike her on camera. Inevitably she cools off and her faith in ‘the system’ returns which puts her at odds with Matt who sees killing as the only way to stop Kingpin. In dealing with her own past, Karen is less insistent on pushing Matt one way or another, rather she just misses his friendship and resents him for his distance.

Oh Foggy, you vanilla scoop in a sugar cone. Lacking any trauma in his past while also being a middle class, straight white guy, Foggy has 100% total confidence in ‘the system.’ Even after it’s reveal that Kingpin has a detail of FBI agents (and a few higher-ups) under his thumb, a feat he accomplished through blackmail over the span of two or three weeks, Foggy insists on caging Fisk through legal means. Even when a grand jury is convened with overwhelming testimony against Fisk, and he bends the jury to his will through threats and intimidation, Foggy STILL insists in his faith in the system. This is the same city that recently served up the death of Eric Garner for selling cigarettes on the street, the same city that instituted racist police reforms in the 90s that led to thousands of unlawful arrests of black and brown individuals. Good grief! It doesn’t make sense and yet, we are encouraged to agree with Foggy’s morality since killing Fisk would “break Matt.”

Would killing the Kingpin “break Matt” as Foggy (and Matt ultimately) believes? I’m not so convinced. Near his defeat, Fisk gets up in Matt’s ear like, “You know there’s no prison that can hold me!” He’s right. He knows it, Matt knows it, and we should all know it by now. Sitting in the audience, I count on Kingpin breaking out– more shenanigans for us. For Foggy and Matt, this has real consequences. They know with certainty that as long as Fisk lives he will continue to take lives, and freed from prison he tends to be exceptional at that. They have seen him twist his finger around the judicial system more than once. And finally, they know that as long as Kingpin lives it will endanger their loved ones– no one is safe and  no one is off limits. What is one man’s code when weighed against the lives of several innocents? Is it not stubbornness to not eliminate Fisk? I can’t argue that it would not break or taint Matt in some way, but what is that pain when paired against the mourning of innocents slain in war that had no part in? How many people have to die before lethal force is not only logical, it is necessary?

We know in the end, Matt/Daredevil opts not to kill Fisk and instead hand him over to the NYPD… and organization known for its fairness and incorruptibility. Yikes. Matt decides that being Matt (and not a full-time Daredevil) ain’t so bad and in the end we see the reformation of Nelson, Murdock & Page.

Conclusion:

I really enjoyed this season. Daredevil never ceases to impress me with meticulous and creative choreography, great acting, and well flesh out characters. I’m so tired of the ‘no kill’ trope though. I’m tired of being told that if a hero kills a mass murderer like Wilson Fisk, they are morally broken. This is repressive bourgeois morality and it’s impressed upon audiences. It serves to prevent any serious harm from coming to the powerful. There are those like Kingpin whose existence is predicated on continued death of innocents. The idea that the system can cage or even reform them is ludicrous.

The Weird Worlds of Shinichirō Watanabe

I got hooked on anime through shows like Pokemon, Dragon Ball, Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Tenchi. These are all vastly different stories but they have one common thread, the protagonist(s) are all teenagers. These stories revolve around a time of awkward transitions, often acting as metaphors for the struggle to form an identity, to question authority, and the formation of values. With the exception of Gundam, these anime are brightly colored with optimistic overtones. Shinichiro Watanabe doesn’t really do that. His character rang in age from young adult to middle aged. They are often penniless to the point of starvation and lacking in any fame and esteem held by other anime protagonists. Their lives have no intended destination. His characters live on the fringes of society in anonymity with stories punctuated by trauma. Eighteen years after I bought my first Bebop DVD, I’m still draw to his story telling.

Shinichiro Watanabe’s career now spans three decades starting with his directorial debut with Marcross Plus (1995). His next project ‘Carol & Tuesday’ is slated for 2019. After the early 2000s American debut of Cowboy Bebop, Watanabe’s fame exploded in the west. Since then he’s produced shorts for the creators of the Matrix and Blade Runner franchises. While I’ve yet to see a project of his that I haven’t liked, I want to focus on the big three: Cowboy Bebop, Samurai Champloo, and Space Dandy.

Also, it’s important to mention that one of Watanabe’s talents is surrounding himself with talented artists. Without the writing of Keiko Nobumoto, the character designs of Toshihiro Kawamoto and Kazuto Nakazawa, the music direction of Yoko Kanno and Nujabes, Watanabe’s projects may never have gained reverence. Cheers to them!

Cowboy Bebop

Jet Black, Spike Spiegel, Faye Valentine, Edward, Ein (dog)

It all started in a Suncoast video store in the year 2000.

Toonami’s afternoon block exposed me to so much quality anime, and I wanted more, something edgy and adult, and I found that in the colorful covers of the Cowboy Bebop DVDs. The fourteen year old in me vividly remembers first seeing Faye Valentine in visible thong, wielding a pistol in front of a star craft. The trailer had everything from martial arts, to spaceships, and to gun fights, and naturally being a fourteen year old, I was all in. So, one Sunday when I had a little money in my pocket from babysitting, I bought Session 1.

Cowboy Bebop is the story of bounty hunters in the year 2071. Aboard the star-ship, the Bebop, their adventures take them from Venus to Jupiter in search of quick cash. Bureaucratic loopholes and run-ins with criminal syndicates often rob them of their just rewards, but that’s just part of the gig.

“Jazz agers, flower children, lost generation, beatniks, rockers, punks, nerds, hackers, lovers, Generation X – whatever the designation, there have always been outlaws in our society who live in pursuit of autonomy.
The year 2071 AD. That future is now. Driven out of their terrestrial Eden, humanity chose the stars as the final frontier. With the section-by-section collapse of the
former nations, a mixed jumble of races and peoples came. They spread to the stars, taking with them the now confused concepts of freedom, violence, illegality
and love, where new rules and new generation of outlaws came into being. People referred to them as…” 

Back then, I had no idea that Cowboy Bebop would be the nexus between so much of the pop-culture I would come love and be inspired by. This was intentional. Watanabe is enamored with American and Chinese cinema, Harlem jazz, and classic rock n’ roll. Episodes are rich with references to everything from Charlie Parker to Goethe to Alien (1979).

To this day, I’m still drawing connections. Like the credit animation which involves a reference to the bullet riddled protagonists of in the John Woo classic, ‘The Killer’ (1988), a film which is itself a take on Jean-Pierre Melville’s french cult classic ‘Le Samourai’ (1966). Note: Melville’s classic has also been cited a major influence behind Jim Jarmusch’s ‘Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai’ (1999) and Nicholas Winding Refn’s ‘Drive’ (2011) I found all of these projects individually and at different points in my life, yet each felt distinctly familiar, and that’s because I watched Bebop, first.

 

 

The Killer (1989)

Vicious & Spike

Years later when I was drawn to Bruce Lee and Taoism, I thought about how Spike Spiegel practices Lee’s own marital art Jeet Kune Do. When I got into jazz, I thought about Jet’s love of Miles Davis. When I got into the 60’s rock n’ roll, episode titles like ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ and ‘Honkey Tonk Woman’ made sense to me. When I read ‘The Autobiography of Malcolm X’ I thought of Udai Taxim.

 

 

Desperado (1995)

Laid over the reference buffet are themes of loneliness and existential ennui. Bebop asks whether we can outrun our past and what happens when we finally face it. While at first the characters seem lackadaisical, motivated only by the promise of quick rewards, we grow to know them intimately as scarred by trauma. It would be simple to say they are on the run, but it wouldn’t be off. Spike fakes his death to escape the criminal underworld, Jet resigns from the police force after losing an arm and realizing the organization is irredeemably corrupt, Faye is constantly on the run from debt collectors, and Ed, a notorious hacker, understandably lives off the grid. As a teenager, all of this was incredibly romantic. I fantasized about disappearing in the stars, tied to nothing with no responsibilities. The fact that they occasionally ate cup noodles to survive and that their line of work was lethal didn’t bother me. It seemed like a small price to pay to avoid restlessness monotony of the suburbs. This is probably a factor in me leaving America for half of my twenties.

There are plenty of laughs throughout Bebop but the overall tone is one of melancholy. It opens and closes with death, and there’s pain all throughout. I can still see the crushed looks on friends faces at the show’s conclusion. The common cure was just to start the show all over again to coax the loss. Over the past eighteen years, I’ve watched all 26 episodes and film ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door’ (2001) more times than I can remember. I’ve either shown or recommended it to every person in my life with interest in animation and/or anime. If I had to pick my favorite short anime it would be Cowboy Bebop.

Samurai Champloo

I spent a lot of time in high school geeked over Bebop, watching the DVDs endlessly, loaning them to all of my friends, drawing the characters in my sketch pad, listening to all the albums to try and understand what the hell Acid Jazz was and why I liked it so much. I was also devouring all the anime/manga I could. By graduation, my music tastes began to develop beyond Nu-Metal, to old school hip-hop (A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Gang Starr, Nas). So when the news broke that Watanabe had a 26 episode show in the works that would blend hip-hop into feudal Japan, I was like, God-damn! This is going to be the best thing ever.

The hype for Samurai Champloo was steep but it took no time at all for me to start humming the opening bars by Shing02. Right away, I wanted to cosplay Mugen (eventually did!) shoes and all. My friends and I would argue over who was a better ronin, Jin or Mugen.

Samurai Champloo is the story of two wondering ronin, one stoic (Jin), the other chaotic (Mugen), and their teenage companion, Fuu. The wander (a mostly historical) feudal Japan in search of the renowned ‘Sunflower Samurai.’

Note: The word champloo comes from the Okinawan word chanpurū (as in gōyā chanpurū, the Okinawan stir-fry dish containing bitter melon). Chanpurū, alone, simply means “to mix” or “to hash”.

Champloo isn’t the emotional juggernaut that is Bebop, but there is plenty of drama. Again, we see characters haunted by a past they’ve yet to process or escape. Jin, Fuu, and even Mugen (when he’s not stirring shit) have placid surfaces, yet internally furnaces rage. Jin, framed for the murder of his former master, carries the weight bringing down his former school, Mugen is a former pirate on the run, and Fuu who’s orphaned by a father she refuses to stop searching for.

I’d be lying if I said I don’t tear up at times while watching. Champloo only exacerbated my love of historical Japan and samurai culture. The wide, vivid depictions of the countryside are gorgeous. The incorporation of break dancing into sword play was dope as fuck. And the Nujabes/Fat Jon/Force of Nature soundtracks are listenable even if you’ve never heard of Champloo.

One last thing, Samurai Champloo is an easy anime to convince your non-anime friends that the medium is worth their time. With hip-hop as a major influence, it translates easily with western audiences. The animation is crisp, the show’s funny without being chaotic, and the drama is complex enough to stand up to the criticisms of irreverence as anime often receives.

Space Dandy

I’ll be honest, I didn’t know what the fuck to expect when I first saw the trailer for Space Dandy. My assumption was that Watanabe might structure the show along the same line as Bebop and Champloo with the fusion of a music genre with popular culture imagery. It’s not really that. In fact, it’s actually more of a subversion of a many anime traits than anything else.

Space Dandy is the outrageous adventures of Dandy (Space Dandy), his robot/partner QT, and Meow, a catlike alien biped that can talk. They search the galaxy for rare and unclassified alien life to claim for reward.

Like Bebop and Champloo, the crew in Space Dandy is constantly broke in search of quick cash. The episodes are nonsensical to the point of disregarding continuity. The show often confounds logic but I believe it makes sense on an emotional level. All the colors pop and many of the episodes dive head first into psychedelia. Someone described the vibe as Hitchhiker Guide To The Galaxy with Bruce Campbell and I can’t think of anything more apt. There’s a giant ‘breastrant’ shaped like two floating boobs, appropriately named Boobies. Basically, if you enjoy marijuana, you’re gonna love Space Dandy.

Conclusion:

There’s really no work out there like Shinichiro Watanabe’s catalog. There are barely any derivatives I can think of. Maybe it’s because creatively Watanabe always places himself firmly between Japanese and western culture. This could explain why Cowboy Bebop was wholly more of a success abroad than at home– could also be that Japanese audiences had twenty years of Lupin III material to enjoy. To watch his shows is to fall in love with the characters, and their antics, stubbornness, and humility. It is to forget about destinations and kick back for the journey.

The Purge Franchise

On July 14, 1969, Richard Nixon delivered a passionate address to the American people on the threat of illegal drugs. He began with,

“Within the last decade, the abuse of drugs has grown from essentially a local police problem into a serious national threat to the personal health and safety of millions of Americans. A national awareness of the gravity of the situation is needed; a new urgency and concerted national policy are needed at the Federal level to begin to cope with this growing menace to the general welfare of the United States.”

The War on Drugs was officially inaugurated in June 1971. For the next four decades the war was accelerated by each American president (see: Michelle Alexander). What followed can only described as devastation. Black and brown communities were torn apart by mandatory minimum sentencing, stop-and-frisk laws, three strike sentencing, racial profiling, and broken window policing. Local police departments have come to resemble an armored insurgency equipped with vehicles of war. Incarceration rates, which plateaued through the first half of the 20th century, skyrocketed from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands for non-violent offences such as marijuana possession. Those who managed to avoid jail time or simply served their sentence are barred from voting.

In a 1994 interview with Harper’s Weekly, former Nixon domestic policy chief John Ehrlichman confessed that the War on Drugs was essentially a sham.  He said,

“The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the antiwar left and black people. You understand what I’m saying? We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.”

All of this and more comes to mind when watching America’s latest horror franchise, The Purge. The brainchild of James DeMonaco, the series centers on an alternate reality of America where for 12 hours, once a year, citizens are permitted to do whatever they want with zero legal repercussions. The four films focus on the most visceral aspects such as violence and murder, and asks the question: Are we as a species in need of an extreme outlet? At least that’s how it’s packaged and sold to the public. In reality, the annual purge functions as a way for the upper echelons of (white) society to rid the economy of the poor and low income, especially the black and brown population who are most targeted.

I want to take a look at the bookends of the franchise and talk about why the most recent prequel, The First Purge, is the most significant to date. Let go!

**There will be spoilers (but mostly for The First Purge)**

The Purge (2013)

Set in an affluent Los Angeles suburb in the year 2022, the first installment follows the Sardin family over the course of the annual purge event. James Sardin (Ehtan Hawke), head of a firm who manufactures home security systems specifically for the annual purge, has done very well for himself. Enough to build an addition to their already massive home, stoking resentment in several of their neighbors. His wife, Mary, is played by the awesome Lena Headey. Their humanity is put to the test when their little boy allows an injured stranger into their barricaded home. The stranger is being pursued by a young, sexy group of purge fanatics so intent on killing the stranger, they vow to kill the entire Sardin family to get to him.

This film was a lot of fun. It’s a tight 89 minutes and there is no fat. The story opens with a card telling us the audience that in the eight years since the first purge, violent crime has plummeted to single digits, unemployment is 1%… and all it took was a little purging. We should be skeptical of these figures, but I’ll get into that in a minute.

There was almost nothing I didn’t like about this film. It was less violent than I expected, choosing to focus more on the psychological toll and the stripping of humanity the event takes on those who participate. The villains were genuinely unsettling and there is an unspoken yet overt message that those taking the most delight in the killing are young, affluent, and white. The night has become on a American high holiday. Throughout the evening the Sardin’s are subjected to horrifying cruelties the purge. Exhausted and blood spattered, the film fades out on the shook family as a new report declares it to be the most successful purge to date, stating the stock market is booming and weapon sales are through the roof.

The one glaring flaw of the film is the use of The Stranger (Edwin Hodge). So, the film isn’t afraid to craft a situation wherein the litmus test of an affluent, white suburban family’s humanity is whether or not they will sacrifice the life of an unknown homeless black stranger to save themselves. It is however, afraid to give said black character more than two lines of dialogue which aren’t simply the word “Help!” For a brief moment in the first act, the film plays with the idea that the semi-intruder is a violent, bloodthirsty purger intent on murdering a scared family. That the Stranger is a large black man is meant to amplify our suspicion that he is prone to violence. Outside of that, the Stranger is one dimensional, possessing no history and an uncertain future. He is a literal walking catalyst.

But this isn’t the last we will see of Edwin Hodge as The Stranger…

The Purge: Anarchy (2014) and The Purge: Election Year (2016)

There’s a lot going on in the follow-up sequels. Anarchy gives us a street level take on what the annual event is like for working class folks in a predominately Latinx portion of Los Angeles. We learn what the night of terror is like for most folks, those of us without a mansion and a vault. We see how the purge event has spurred tiny market for human trafficking, and how you can sell your body (to be purged) to a rich family. So, that’s a plus! Oh, and we also get to see what Netflix’s The Punisher would have been like had Frank Grillo been cast as Frank Castle. And most importantly, we meet a group of Anti-Purge resistance fighters led by Carmelo Johns (Michael K. Williams). Hell-yes!

‘Election Year’ takes place in the year 2040, though nothing visually indicates that we have technologically advanced or regressed. In fact, everything looks the same as today. The story follows presidential candidate, Senator Charlie Roan (Elizabeth Mitchell) who is running an Anti-Purge campaign. We finally get a glimpse of New Founding Fathers– surprise, surprise, they’re all white as milk and old as dirt.

The Stranger, finally named Dwayne Bishop, resurfaces first as part of the Anti-Purge resistance and later, succeeding Johns as the leader of the resistance. This brings me to the most frustrating part of the story, the moral policing of the anti-purge resistance. As Senator Roan flees through the streets of LA from hit squads (of KKK and Neo Nazi bikers) literally ordered to kill her by her presidential opponent, she insists on running a bloodless campaign… even if it means a lot of black and brown folks have to die around her. The resistance has a meticulous plan to bomb the New Founding Fathers on purge night (legal) but Senator Roan won’t have a victory if it means someone has to die… even if her life is continually saved by the resistance.

I can’t think of a better analogy for the 2016 election (an event the film used to stoke media interest) than Senator Roan, a white woman, insisting on ‘playing the rules’ and tone policing blacks while her opponent is literally attempting to destroy her by any means necessary.

The First Purge (2018)

“Citizens, this will be a tradition we celebrate every year. Join in the first Purge.”
-The President

Someone said there would be no ‘The First Purge’ without ‘Get Out,’ and I can see that. The latter proved that black helmed horror projects are viable, which… c’mon y’all, do better. But as to the cause and effect, I disagree. The First Purge, directed by Gerard McMurray and written by creator James DeMonaco, has been in the works ever since 2013 when the Alt-Right yuppies pulled up to Ethan Hawke’s house demanding the Stranger. This is the story of the first purge and those who opposed it.

The film opens with candidates interviewing to take part in a new experiment soon to be dubbed the purge. We learn the experiment will be confined to Staten Island and participants will receive $5000 simply for staying home– the financial rewards increase with active participation in the purge. We see that many of the city’s residents are low income and struggling to get by and thus very susceptible to money incentives.

What follows is a montage of news clips (and Van Jones!) that could have been pulled from a day’s worth of CNN and Fox News. War, Recession, unemployment, crime, and poverty– there has to be a solution to these ills! Can’t someone take drastic action?!

“Van Jones: We are here with Dr. May Updale. She came up with this experiment. Is The Purge a political device?
Dr. May Updale: It is a psychological one. If we want to save our country, we must release all our anger in one night.”

Normally, I don’t get too hyped for prequels. There’s an inherent defeatism to a story like this. We know that somehow the experiment will succeed and we know that the purge will be an annual event for the next 18 years. So, why be concerned with the struggles of Dmitri (Y’lan Noel), a noble drug kingpin and Nya (Lex Scott Davis) a fearless activist? We should care about them because these are people most vulnerable during the purge. Each represents a faction of lower class society which has already been abandoned by society. Remember the news broadcasts, remember that all except for the experiment, their world mirrors ours? The Staten Island projects in the First Purge have been decimated from 40 years of over-policing and daily police brutality. They survived the crack boom and the Giuliani administration. The purge is just another attempt to society of black and brown folks, especially low income citizens. What follows is some of the best black revenge imagery I’ve ever seen. I’m talking Y’lan Noel strangling a white assassin in black face. Also, can we please put him in another action movie like right quick?

“Our neighborhood is under siege from a government who doesn’t give a shit about any of us.”
-Dmitri

This installment presents a definitive backstory. We learn that the NFFA (New Founding Fathers of America), a stand in for the Tea Party, formed around 2013-14 and were voted into power. This was surprising as the series continually refers to a revolution which resulted in a power shift. What we is a more conservative, somehow more corporate Republican party with the NRA as a major donor… So, basically a half step off our reality.

“Arlo Sabian: Parties? You predicted a much higher level of participation.
Dr. May Updale: Human nature does not obey the laws of politics.”

In order to cement their authority, the NFFA needs the first purge to be a success. After a few hours and only one death it becomes clear that people aren’t as violent as predicted. Many choose to party instead of killing and looting. At that point, those pulling the levers call in insurance in the form of a KKK/Neo-Nazi biker and Russian mercenaries to roll through the island and murder as many as possible. Chaos ensues.

Conclusion:

To tie this all together, I want to talk about the confrontation between the architect of the purge experiment Dr. Updale (Marissa Tomei) and representative of the NFFA, Arlo Sabian, when the former discovers the true purpose of the purge is to literally purge the American economy of the lower and vulnerable classes. That simple. Sabian states that all other solutions have been exhausted. After multiple recessions and ever rising unemployment the government is left with no choice but to take drastic measures. This is right after Dr. Updale catches him in a lie and questions whether the crime and poverty statistics themselves are as fabricated as the experiment.

It’s no coincidence that the War on Drugs was birthed at the end of the 1960’s, an era famous for social unrest. From the Civil Rights Movement, to Women’s liberation, to the massive anti-war protest, to many the times felt like spiraling into chaos. For others the injustices were so severe that a social obligation called them to resist. All of this was exploited by the Nixon administration who played on white southern and suburban fears and anxieties. Each of the progressive movements threatened to upset the hierarchy of power in America (See: white supremacist capitalist patriarchy).

The first purge is inaugurated after back-to-back recessions, rising movements like Black Lives Matter and Occupy, rapid wealth distribution to the 1%, and the country’s first black president. This is no mistake. Like the Indian massacres, Jim Crow laws, lynching, interment camps, Tuskegee experiments, J. Marion Sims and gynecology, redlining, and gentrification, the purge is as American as apple pie.