Calling #3

Sara sits cross-legged, hands folded, on Leo's coffee table while he paces back and forth. Leo has not said anything for a while. At last, he stops.

Leo: Are you sure you're not here to rob me?

Sara sighs.

Sara: I thought it would be easier this way. Talking to you directly, I mean. They warned me not to do it. They said I'd be wasting my time.

Leo stares at him.

Leo: Did my parents send you?

Sara: Your questions are full of assumptions.

Leo: Is this about the money I borrowed? Mom said--

Sara moves to a standing position on the table, unnaturally fast. His voice assumes a "super-real" quality, indicated by italics.

Sara: You are asking the wrong questions. Stop acting like you already have the answers and ask me what you really want to know.

Leo hesitates. Then he acquiesces.

Leo: Okay. Okay. You win.

Leo takes a deep breath.

Leo: Um, what do I want to know?

Calling #2

Leo is on the phone with the police. Sara watches, increasingly impatient.

Leo: Yes. Yes, he's standing right in front of me. I don't know. He slapped a beer out of my hand. I don't know what he wants. Yeah, I can ask. Hang on.

Leo leans forward.

Leo: Are you a burglar?

Sara: A burglar?

Leo: A burglar. A robber. A thief. A bandit.

Sara: I know what a burglar is. And no, I am not here to steal anything.

Leo returns to the phone.

Sara: He says he isn't a burglar. Hold on, I'll ask.

Leo leans forward.

Leo: Are you sure?

Sara holds up one hand.

Sara: I swear.

Leo returns to the phone.

Leo: He swears he isn't a burglar. Uh huh. Okay. I'll tell him.

Leo leans forward.

Leo: They believe you.

Calling #1

Leo is at home. He lives alone. He is sitting on the couch. The TV is on, but he's not particularly interested. He is drinking a beer. He burps.

Someone is in the room with him. He wears a robe and carries a tablet, which he periodically pokes at. His name is Sara. He is an angel, and not technically gendered.

Sara: Excuse me... Um, excuse me?

Leo gulps down some more beer and wipes his mouth with his free hand.

Sara slaps the beer out of his hand.

Sara: Hey!

Leo looks up at him.

Leo: Oh. Sorry. Didn't see you there.

Sara: Well, there's a reason for that.

Leo: One sec.

Leo pulls out his phone.

Leo: Yes, police?

Doomsday Clock #1 (no spoilers)

This is the first comic in a while that I couldn't wait to read. I'm not even a fan of Watchmen, though I have a certain appreciation for it.

I credit books like Watchmen for sending comics storytelling in a darker, more violent direction--a reaction to the goofiness of the Silver Age. (Fans often mistake darkness and violence as being more "adult.") It's taken some decades for the whimsical nature of comics to reassert itself, though it never completely left us. (It did struggle more, though.)

What intrigues me about this book, from the few interviews I've read, is that it is set up as a story about pessimism vs. optimism, despair vs. hope. On a meta-story level, I think it is about the DC heroes reasserting themselves over the influence of Watchmen, in both a character sense and a publication history sense.

Writer Geoff Johns has told versions of this story before, most notably with Infinite Crisis, in which the heroes are all in dark places because of their own decisions and compromises. (This book was hindered by the fact that there were too many other books leading up to it, so I would not call it "standalone.")

This first issue feels accessible, requiring only that we have read Watchmen (something that I'd wager almost any long-time comics fan has done) and have a general knowledge of the DC heroes. In fact, as someone who has not been actively keeping up with DC comics since the launch of New 52 (and has only read the Rebirth special and the "Button" crossover), I didn't feel any confusion at all.

At the core of a story like Watchmen (and seemingly at the core of Doomsday Clock) is that the world--perhaps the universe itself--feels like a villain. Everyone feels helpless and that events are out of their control. Johns even steals a few headlines and talking points from our world--as if he deliberately wants fans to fight each other over this book.

I don't really know what kind of outcome I want from a book like this. I used to think that I wanted the DC heroes to have a definitive triumph over the influence of Watchmen, ushering in a new era of fun and optimism. But ultimately I think the two sides of the equation will have to find a balance.

If Johns is as ambitious as this book makes him seem he wants to be, then ultimately it will tell us something about our own world and our own struggles with hope and despair. The timing of this book couldn't be better--if it's really the book I hope it is.

At 12 issues, it will take a year for this story to unfold. At the rate our culture is moving, I wonder if the relevance and poignancy it strives for will still apply by the time the final issue comes out. Is this book rooted in a specific time, or does it speak to something larger and more universal? If it sticks to a monthly schedule, the final issue will come out shortly after the midterm elections--and no matter the outcome, we will need some optimism.

Ordinary Weirdos

When I was a kid, and I liked a show, and I thought I was the only one who liked the show, finding other people who also liked the show was a big deal.

And when I got older, and I was still watching cartoons, and I thought, well, people are supposed to grow out of cartoons, finding other people who still liked cartoons was a big deal.

When you think you’re the only one, it’s easy to think this is because there’s something wrong with you. So when the internet became a thing, and I found people my age or older who were into the same thing, I thought I’d found the Holy Grail. I thought I’d finally found the thing that said I wasn’t weird for liking this stuff.

And then the weirdness kicked into high gear.

The internet, as most of you know, then became a place for people to vent and complain and generally be vicious to one another, but most especially to the people who make our favorite things. I finally found my tribe, and they kinda sucked.

Before Twitter and Facebook and even Myspace, there were message boards. Subconsciously, I was learning that the most negative, aggressive posts were the ones that got the most attention. I figured it out as my nice-to-moderate posts went ignored. But once I finally gave in and expressed my disdain or apathy for a project, people started reacting. It was strangely validating.

But my flirtation with the Dark Side didn’t last very long, because I quickly realized that the people who work on the projects I’m badmouthing could potentially read my posts. The thought of it made me feel guilty. I had one of those “What have I become?” moments, and I backed away from message boards for a while.

I didn’t want to be like those people online who could not find joy in anything. So they’re unhappy with Batman? Then read literally anything else. There is no shortage of amazing talent out there. Stop taking everything as a personal insult. The world is a bigger place than you can imagine, and it is full of wonders.

So on the one hand, I felt validated for finding people with common interests, but on the other hand, I kind of hated them.

Now we have Twitter. On Twitter, all the negativity grew exponentially more potent, some of which downright criminal. But Twitter facilitates positivity as well, if to a lesser degree. I can actually say something benign or downright glowing on Twitter, and it is more likely to be acknowledged now than back then on those message boards. The trick is finding people you think you’d enjoy communicating with, whose cynicism and sarcasm don’t shield them so much that no amount of joy can escape.

I suppose when you’re a kid, and you’re balancing these strange social hierarchies, any form of genuine expression can be seen as a weakness. You don’t want to find out that this thing you love is actually the Wrong Thing. You want approval and validation or, failing that, you want to be left alone. Anything that someone else enjoys or loves is “lame,” or whatever the kids are calling it today.

I suspect many of us take these feelings with us to adulthood.

Here’s how I feel: When I really like something, that feeling is enhanced when I am able to find people who share the sentiment. If such people cannot be found, then I am perfectly fine enjoying it on my own. (Yes, I have grown wise in my old age.) When I like something, I want to share it in some way. And when I dislike something, I want to understand why I disliked it. I don’t want to get emotional about it, but I do want to analyze it.

I could go at length about what’s wrong with the DC movies without insulting any of the individuals who made or performed in the movie. I prefer to look at it this way: They are all very talented people, many of whom have done great work before and will do so again. There’s no point in holding grudges just because they made one bad movie. And frankly, I consider it a miracle that movies can be any good, considering the hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of ways it can go wrong. Hell, I can even go at length about what’s wrong without insulting people who have different opinions. Imagine that.

I don’t really know what the point of this post was, except that I felt compelled to talk about my experience interacting with people online. For the most part, I wouldn’t want to interact with any of them. But occasionally, I can find someone who is smart and interesting and looks at things in a way that I hadn’t noticed before. That almost makes it all worth it.

Raw (June 26, 2017)

Some thoughts about last night's episode of Raw.

What Worked

Samoa Joe is the perfect opponent for for Brock Lesnar, and his interactions with Paul Heyman are fantastic. This angle is really bringing out his personality, which was a bit subdued since he came to Raw wearing a suit and ready to do the bidding of the Authority.

Nia Jax did a lot of the heavy lifting in that gauntlet match. I'd even argue that she was the only one who technically ran the gauntlet. Everyone else just had a match.

I'm kind of digging Titus's role as a mentor/manager. Apollo Crews has been a blank slate for so long, it's nice to see him building some relationships. Titus also seems to be branching out into 205 Live territory.

They had me convinced that reconciliation between Enzo and Cass was actually possible, so kudos to them. I kind of want to see them try to patch things up every week, only for it to end the same way.

What Didn't Work

I have a theory that WWE, when they don't know which direction to take their superstars in, throws people together to see if anything gels. Putting Cesaro, Sheamus, the Hardies, the Drifter, and Finn Balor together in a six-man tag team felt strange and forced. It makes me suspect there's just not much of a story there.

Right now, it seems that, out of those six wrestlers I just mentioned, Cesaro and Sheamus are the ones with the most personality. We know Finn has a demon inside him, but that demon is sleeping right now, so he's just sort of a blank good guy with no direction. You might say he's "drifting."

Meanwhile, the Drifter was in danger of putting himself over with those backstage segments where he wanders into the frame playing his guitar, then wanders off. I would much rather see other wrestlers reacting to him than see him almost play a song for the audience.

The Hardy Boyz have a lot of support from the fans, but since coming to WWE, they haven't really shown me any of the stuff that apparently made them famous. Are they not allowed to do anything recognizable from the indie circuit? Copyright issues? I just haven't seen much personality from them. And then I get on Twitter, and the Hardies are nothing but personality. Why can't they bring this to Raw?

Regardless, Finn Balor should be in the spotlight, and instead he's in a strange side story. Seth Rollins too. Maybe WWE should throw the two of them together. Maybe Finn should unleash some anger or any emotion at all. Show us how dangerous he can be.

Meanwhile, WWE is pushing Roman (big surprise) and Strowman (bigger surprise?), and I don't really have any interest in that. It's just two tough guys trying to prove how tough they are. But Roman is too stoic, lacking the personality of a certain Stone Cold. He flirts with being a heel without ever crossing the line. I bet when he's done with Strowman, Roman's not going to be far off from a feud with free agent and part-timer John Cena. The audience will have no idea how to react.

On 205 Live and Cruiserweights

I don't think I like the Cruiserweight segments. They are pretty much ads for 205 Live, which has done very little to stand apart from any other wrestling show. I was there at Extreme Rules this past month, and the Cruiserweight match between Neville and Aries should have been fantastic, but the fans were not reacting at all. They have wrestlers who should be huge stars. But at the same time, Raw is not their show, and Raw already has a full rosters of superstars who need some story development. This is where the issue of "too much content" comes in. WWE already has Raw, Smackdown, NXT, and 205 Live, and now they are threatening to introduce a show for UK wrestlers (though I don't know why they shouldn't just make it a WWE International show). I'm already consuming a lot of content, and I very much wish I could be looking at more indie promotions, particularly those focusing on what we don't see very much of right now, like women's matches.

I will say that 205 Live has gotten a shot in the arm at various times, thanks to Neville, Gentleman Jack Gallagher, and Noam Dar (who got over just for his unique way of saying Alicia Fox's name). And yet, I think their most important wrestler is Mustafa Ali. It's rare for WWE to confront stereotypes rather than, say, exploit them. If the fanart is any indication, he is inspiring people and deserves a real push.

But something about the show overall still isn't working for me. I suppose it doesn't seem different enough from the other shows. If you look at something like the Marvel movies, you can tell what makes each one different, even as you recognize that they all essentially have the same story. Each individual film has its own identity, it's own corner of the Marvel Universe to play in. Maybe this is what 205 Live needs to be: a place for underdogs and misfits, where everyone is fighting for the scraps. It needs its own identity. NXT, even though its quality varies from show to show, still has a strong sense of identity. NXT is the show that is building the future. 205 Live is the show with smaller wrestlers--a mini version of Raw and Smackdown.

Thought Twists: Star Wars: The Force Awakens

I hear that the best way to get trending is to talk about a movie that came out 2 years ago.

Centuries ago, the trailer for The Last Jedi came out. Like any good teaser, it encourages speculation. So much of what gets people excited about Star Wars is the speculation. Is Rey related to Luke or Obi-Wan? Will Luke turn to the Dark Side? Is Finn the only black Stormtrooper in the galaxy? Will Chewie ever get that hug?

The problem is, in order to fuel speculation like this, the audience has to be in it--more than 100% in it. And I'm not sure I'm 100% into Star Wars anymore.

The original trilogy (OT) was real to me in a way that very few follow-ups have ever been able to recapture. I was able to overlook questionable things like Ewoks because the OT was like my Bible--my belief overpowered anything that didn't make sense to me, anything that a less devoted viewer might be inclined to criticize.

And between the OT and the prequel trilogy (PT), there were the books, which became known as the Expanded Universe (EU). They would not be canon, but for a long time they would be the only Star Wars stories available. With nothing to contradict them, they were canon by default. Some of those stories were excellent. I am rather fond of the Thrawn trilogy and the Rogue Squadron series. Other books didn't meet my expectations, but that was okay. I knew that these were mere mortals writing Star Wars books, not Master Lucas himself.

And then there was the PT, and things started going wrong from there. It's an interesting phenomenon, observing someone who has loved something for so long feel so obligated to defend it from all criticism. I think many Star Wars fans felt this way after watching The Phantom Menace. From their point of view, it is not okay for there to be a bad Star Wars movie. That would be against their religion. They become apologists. They focus on the positive. Jar Jar wasn't that bad. And wasn't that lightsaber duel cool? And aren't political allegories neat?

I have been guilty of this. I loved Star Wars, and there wasn't room enough in my heart for a bad Star Wars movie. So I did what all right- or left-leaning people do when their own political candidate is a piece of shit. I made excuses. I blamed the naysayer for not having an open mind. I lied to myself.

By the time Attack of the Clones came out, I was more prepared to be a skeptic. I'd seen enough activity online to confirm that Episode I's flaws could not be ignored or explained away. And so I sat through chunks of Episode II actually wincing.

Episode III was more satisfying, but not without flaws.

What I will say about both the PT is that all of them contributed at least one thing new and substantial to the overall mythology. The PT in particular showed us Jedi culture and demystified them quite a bit. They showed us how a mighty Jedi Order could be led astray and destroyed from within. They showed us Jedi who were lost and confused--not just Anakin, but even Yoda himself, who in his wisdom failed to prevent the Sith lord from coming to pow

Movies don't have to be perfect. I've listened to enough Kevin Smith and Nerdist podcasts to appreciate just how difficult it is to make a good movie. Everything in the filmmaking process has to go perfectly, from script to completion, and the odds of this happening seem daunting. But that in itself is just another apology. Sympathy for the challenge of the process doesn't seem like a valid reason to ignore a movie's flaws. At best, you can forgive it. At worst, you can resent it.

A cartoon came out--Clone Wars. It was very good. It came quite close to making the PT better retroactively.

And then Disney bought Lucasfilm and produced The Force Awakens, the first in a new trilogy (NT).

My theory is that Hollywood tends to over-correct for past mistakes. The first Hulk movie was too cerebral, so the follow-up was full of mindless action. The Batman franchise had become a parody of itself, so Nolan's Batman Begins took itself very seriously--so seriously that every ridiculous comic book element in the film had to be rationalized, right down to the part where Alfred asks Bruce why he is compelled to dress like a bat.

Bruce says, "Bats frighten me. It's time my enemies shared my dread."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZsHJpvExUEY

You know what would have been much cooler? If he had said nothing at all. Allow us to entertain the possibility that our protagonist might be insane. But no. He can't be weird or goofy, like Schumacher's Batman. He needs to be serious.

In that similar kind of way, I see The Force Awakens as Disney's attempt at a course correction for the franchise. They attempted to bring back the action, pacing, and appealing characters that made Star Wars a success. And for the most part, I think they succeeded.

What they didn't have was a good story. They had the beats of a good story, but not the meat of a good story. The story itself felt like a retread of the OT--which itself already had two Death Stars and spent two movies on a desert planet. I suppose their plan was to make us fall so utterly in love with the new characters that maybe we would overlook some glaring problems in the movie's own mythology.

Just off the top of my head: What happened to the New Republic? How could they allow yet another super weapon to be built? Were they or were they not the ones in power, thus making the First Order the underdogs in this fight? And if they were the underdogs, how did they get the resources to build a super-gigantic, even-more-deadly version of the Death Star?

The Force Awakens gave us no sense of scale and scope--something that the OT and PT never failed to provide. We knew that the Empire was obscenely large, and that the Rebel Alliance was so very small (see opening scene of A New Hope). In Episode VII, we do not know how big the Resistance is or how big the First Order is. I don't need statistics or anything--I just need to see some juxtaposition, like when the Star Destroyer pursued the tiny Corellian Corvette.

It makes me feel like J.J. Abrams himself didn't have these answers, and therefore ignored them as he made the film, deciding instead to focus on our lovable new characters. Maybe it was a sleight of hand. And maybe it would have been forgivable, if the central conflict of the movie wasn't between these two very ill-defined forces.

Or it should have been central. Maybe that's the problem right there--the conflict between the First Order and the Resistance was tangential to arcs of our adorable cast. The story emphasized the personal, and failed to balance it with larger events. I cared about Rey, Finn, and BB-8. I did not care about the First Order and the Resistance. In Episode IV, the conflict felt important. In Episode VII, it felt like an afterthought. Even Kylo Ren's story, which should be the story of leading the First Order to victory, is ultimately a personal story about the weight of legacy and the pull of family. Perhaps for him the First Order is also an afterthought.

As a result, I left the theater feeling like I'd just seen some very entertaining fan fiction. For me, the NT is not canon. It takes place in an alternate reality. Mind you, I have read some excellent, emotional fan fiction over the years, but in my mind there was always a separation between the original product and these other stories. For me, The Force Awakens will always be separate from the OT, the PT, and even the EU (the last of which Episode VII most closely resembles in my mind). Maybe if Star Wars was still my Bible, I would be looking for ways to defend or apologize for it--like all those people who insist that Rey did not, in fact, learn the ways of the Force far too quickly. (She did. Anakin was off-the-charts Force sensitive as a child, and he still had to go to school. Maybe something in Rey's backstory will clarify this, but until these questions are answered, it is a glaring omission.)

I don't want to take anything away from the devoted fans, and I'm glad they love it so much--but please allow me my opinions. If you truly love something, then you should not feel threatened by someone's conflicting opinion of it.

I fully expect I will enjoy these new installments. They will be fun popcorn flicks for me. But I am not interested in speculation. I am not interested in doing Disney's own marketing for them. And, much as I hate to admit it, I guess I don't believe in the Bible anymore.