AKA Why One Piece Succeeded While Cowboy Bebop Failed?
It's no secret that I'm a big nerd. I grew up with Toonami as my first real introduction - if you don't count waking up early to watch Ronin Warriors before it got dubbed into Cartoon Network's lineup - to anime. That means that I'm from the Dragonball Z/Gundam Wing/Outlaw Star sensibilities.
It also means that I fell in love with the music of Inuyasha, the magic of Princess Mononoke, and the masterclass of Cowboy Bebop. Especially in the realm of these last three, I've written and published dissertations and analysis' on story structure, musical theming, and music as a character.
Cowboy Bebop remains a pinnacle of modern, compressed storytelling. Sure, there are some silly moments, but the freneticism when it arrives is really a product of the human lens - all these worlds and colonies, filled with interesting, colorful people. Much like the Wild West, you're going to have moments where the characters can regard the crazies, shrug, and move on.
...That DOESN'T MEAN that those moments were the core of the show. In fact, they were essential points of levity in an otherwise jagged and tragic narrative. These are people with vices, lingering pasts, vengeance... I'm going to go into detail on specific story points concerning our main cast, so if you haven't seen the full anime for Cowboy Bebop, I suggest you skip down to the giant asterisk (*).
The plot in Cowboy Bebop assumes, among many things, a passage of time between episodes. The characters grow, but we're not with them moment to moment. So these punctuated vignettes rarely connect time-wise cut to cut, while their themes and character branches are consistent. And that's the thing: CHARACTER. You have to nail the characters; the moment a character acts out of place with their core principles and abilities, a fan will be ejected from the story.
Spike Spiegel - an intelligent, savvy, and quick-witted scoundrel with a good heart. Though he can get in over his head, Spike is quick on his feet and believes in people, even when they disappoint him. He practices both the martial disciplines (Jeet Kune Do) and philosophy of Bruce Lee, easily put on display anytime there's a well-animated fist fight. We learn slowly through a peppering of clashes and a lattice of converging paths that Spike used to be a part of a crime syndicate, and left when he faked his own death. He is haunted by memories of a woman named Julia, who we learn he feel in love with. His rival, Vicious, shows up only a few times in the show; instead of being a prolonged villain, his scarcity breeds intense mystery and malevolence, so whenever he arrives, their confrontation never overstays its welcome.
Jet Black - a tall, muscular ex-cop turned bounty hunter, Jet serves as Spike's foil during the series. Hard-working, Jet thinks himself more of a renaissance man, collecting skills and connections to better catch the bad guys. During a bad job as a cop, he was critically wounded and chose to have a robotic arm replace his own as a reminder of his mistakes - biological replacements were available, but he refused. Jet is very much a man of principles and work-ethic; he hates to see people give in to their base desires, and is the strong "Dad" of the group trying to keep his strange family together.
Faye Valentine - Faye has to have one of the deepest backstories spiraling that I've seen. In the anime, she is often the eye candy without being flaunted (the lens isn't weird about it). A woman who is used to getting what she wants, Faye is resourceful, a great pilot, and an expert in firearms. She also has her own vices: drinking, gambling, lying, and money problems in general. Most of her predicaments revolve around debt and lies. Her main arc revolves around developing trust in her crew, her friends, but especially in Spike. The two with probably the most layered pasts who clash often, also hold unspoken care for one another - though their time is shorter than anyone thinks.
The tragedy of Faye is that she is an amnesiac, who also was cryogenically frozen for over 50 years, and upon waking, felt the immense betrayal of owing debt for an action that was out of her control. So she re-enters a world alien to her, burdened with debt no human could ever pay, and is forced to rebuild her entire identity.
Ed & Ein - everyone loves Ein, the super-intelligent "data dog" and the Best Good Boy around. "Ed" on the other hand, is a genius teenager who is distractible, strange, and absolutely off-the-wall. Abandoned by her equally intelligent, but distracted father, Ed finds a home of sorts with the crew, acting as their hacker and researcher, if she can stop speaking in rhyme long enough to make a coherent thought. The anime's dedicated comedy relief, just as with anything else, Ed carries some intense layers of abandonment, but much like her rarely seen father, doesn't let it bother her.
What I Struggled With In The Netflix Adaptation*
I watched the first episode and though I was giving the show my benefit-of-the-doubt, something felt off. As I reached episode 4 (perhaps longer than others gave it, I know, but I was collecting data), a few things became clear.
1) There's a lot more of Vicious. When Vicious shows up in the anime, he is goddamn terrifying. Faye meets him early in on, and she has no idea who he is...and he horrifies her. The vibe he gives off shocks her into silent fear. Netflix Vicious...is a bit of a whiny brat when he first arrives. He wants a lot of power and has daddy issues, and is easily manipulated by Julia. Sometimes, less is more. In the anime, he's not in charge (at least not yet), but he is certainly confident in his strikes and agendas, staging an elaborate coup late in the show. This version shows a more chaotic depth to Vicious, revealing his own instabilities. We even get some syndicate flashbacks, which I honestly craved from the anime.
2) With more Vicious, they added more Julia. - Julia is an excellent character, but more screen time in this adaptation also created strange interactions in the beginning. Loaded screen time away from other character developments, and padded Game of Thrones manipulations. ...Which I...guess I just wasn't in to at first. And yet, it grew on me.
3) The episodes sometimes feel too long. The writing doesn't feel tight; instead filling scenes with other bloated elements (like Jet's daughter, a fabrication of the adaptation).
4) Julia commits to a pretty gnarly heel turn in the last episode, which cements her character as one fully departed from the anime and manga. Then again, that's true of most of the characters by the close of the season.
HOWEVER, none of these are damning offenses. As the show hits its stride, and viewers (like myself) stop expecting it to BE the anime, you can begin to enjoy what the show does do right, which is quite a lot, despite the vocal minority.
John Cho and Mustafa Shakir have good chemistry, and personify (most of the time) the right dynamic of character. The cast interacts well enough, but feel disjointed until about Episode 8 - Sad Clown A-Go-Go, when they finally begin to jive and the show seems to embrace its style.
Sets and world-building are strong where it counts, and scenes between most characters feel organic after the episode 6 mark, like the show gains momentum as it goes. We even crescendo and build tension with a manner of skill toward the Ballad of Fallen Angels fight. Episode 9 is my favorite of the season, finally offering a depth and lens to the series, like a pre-show short story. A great slice of sci-fi noir.
Cowboy Bebop is lauded as an anime that weaves between multiple genres while offering thematic through-lines. It is clear that this was what they were going for in the adaptation, I just feel that they spun their wheels a little in the beginning. I was rewarded with a satisfying story by the end, but I fear the attention span of the average streaming viewer and their ineptitude to form their own opinions in the face of the angry minority contributed to this show being cancelled. Do I prefer the solo showdown of Spike vs syndicate gunners in a church while melancholy jazz plays? Hell yes. But can't both exist without it being the butcher of your childhood?
Hate on HBO's Velma, not this.
Why One Piece Is An Excellent Adaptation
For mental health reasons, I turned off notifications for Nerdrotic, Critical Drinker, and many more of our complainers upon the inter webs in favor of forming my own opinions upon finished artistic works. It has saved me from both speculation and spoilers concerning new content, so I might be happily surprised when I see a live-action One Piece adaptation!
And let me tell you, as a long-standing fan of the entire anime, that I PREFER the adaptation to the anime.
I - Character First
From the get-go, we are introduced to a world rife with possibilities, and introduced to Luffy (played by Inaki Godoy), who proclaims his dream to become "king of the pirates." This actor successfully embodies the enthusiasm, startling faith in himself and dreams of others, and the carefree anti-stealth of the manga's Monkey D. Luffy. Immediately spot-on rendition. In fact, every character introduced fits the spirit of their portrayal while also adapting. I absolutely ADORE this cast; they are perfect.
II - Setup, Payoff, and Pacing
One Piece is a GIGANTIC manga and anime with over 1000 episodes and multiple films, there's A LOT of...fluff. Let's be honest. As a serial anime weekly shoved out, and airing from 1999 to at least 2019, the animation definitely looks it. Big characters, weird proportions, super exaggerated expressions, crazy world building, and tons upon tons of scenarios to keep the show going. I am a child of that time, and know full well that one piece's animation and style is a lot closer to the 80s structure - everyone knows there are dozens of "beach episodes" sprinkled between actual, thoughtful story.
The first major arc in One Piece is 61 episodes long, and ends with the reclamation of a beloved crew member and the liberation of a town. With tight writing and thoughtful editing...that's the whole first season in this adaptation. You'd think that we'd be cutting out truly important beats, but actually this is a superb example of Beginning with the End in Mind.
When you're producing an anime without an ending, you do your level best to draw things out as long as possible. Dragonball Z did it so much back in the day that it's now a meme. One Piece 10x'ed this crap. Why so many characters that don't add much in the long run squished between characters that do? Padding the runtime. But with the end in mind, a good team can pare down the fluff and get to the best moments, and pace them so that they're earned.
Every character gets their moment - earned tear jerkers, badass reveals, actually seeing character relationships develop and change, and a treasure trove of subtle easter eggs for all us fans without alienating anyone new. In only these 8 episodes, we meet the main cast of Luffy, Zoro (Mackenyu), Nami (Emily Rudd), Usopp (Jacob Romero), and even Sanji (Tan Skylar), with a great long-standing focus on Coby, and get to see the first additions to our "rogue's gallery" with Alvida, Buggy, Kuro, Mihawk, and Arlong. And the best part? It all feels smooth and easily enjoyed. Chemistry is great among these actors, and I couldn't be happier with our villains; Buggy is menacing in this rendition, and his connection to Shanks is put in the forefront of his characterization; Kuro is terrifying here, and the actor has his mannerisms DOWN. I know in the manga that Arlong is HUGE, but here he FEELS big; presence of character translates much better than a CGI mess.
And looking through the writer's lens with the whole of the story to choose from, this team selects perfectly where and when to show an easter egg vs a conversation vs a flashback, all for its momentum; some subtle, others big, and all being important. Nothing feels drawn out or wasteful either, something I felt the anime suffer from often.
III - Action On Point
Roronoa Zoro is my favorite character to watch fight people (fantastic sword work), with Sanji at a close second. Both actors absolutely sell it and have clearly put in tremendous physical work to do so practically. The second fight we see Zoro he's owning a set of marines in a bar using mostly his hilt and a half-drawn blade; it's stunning to witness. In fact, the cinematography and camera work does a fantastic job in applying weight and speed to characters, so you feel every impact, especially from characters like Arlong or Axehand. I have found myself rewinding episodes just to watch the fight again because the actors were so impressive. Cannot wait for a rematch with Dracule Mihawk.
IV - Music On Point
From the anime, I barely noticed the show's music, save for it's opening theme, but I've purchased this score (by Sonya Belousova and Giona Ostinelli) for myself and listened to it multiple times. I love the theme, and how the composers honored the anime opening as a literal track in at least two episodes, plus made a specific stinger for ever-changing title card at the beginning of each episode. They explore numerous instrumentations and have a penchant for guitar, as well as variations on the main theme, so much that one can just listen to the soundtrack on its own and still tell a story. Just solid.
V - Keep the Details, Center on Character Arcs
No filler episodes. What can you accomplish when you know what's coming? What relationships should be cultivated, and others minimized? What story points are central motivating factors for each character and their dreams, while still being compelling?
I prefer this approach. The story feels stronger and smoother, and in an age where we look for story beats and arcs, for setup and payoff, this delivers over and over again while never sacrificing the spirit and integrity of these characters.
It's worth it. Give it a watch.
...And no one cares about Luffy's sandals...
Sometimes it's okay to just like things.
Political Hollywood is entering its death spiral - flailing and ripping at every thread on the way down.
The Writer's Strike pulls a particular lens of reflection on recent works in particular. Something happened post-Covid; true, our collective lens illuminated sincere acts of justice, civil rights, and the human experience. But it also lent a voice to the delusional minority, and once that pedestal was erected, the tolerant gifted this minority with a megaphone.
It meant that while silent voices can finally be heard, that we can all stop and think for a second, such a pause gave momentum to new ideas.
I'm a creative person. I like looking at things from many angles, finding new and innovative solutions, and for a time, being "woke" was a good thing. We were checking our privileges, reaching hands across invisible gaps, acknowledging the collective human experience, and raising the awareness of social, cultural, and environmental issues. Inclusion, diversity, and representation are not a bad thing in and of themselves. These moments I like to think are our glimmers of hope; the instances where we evolve as a species, and collectively acknowledge fundamental truths of our time:
1) LGBTQ+ people ARE PEOPLE, and deserve the same rights as everyone else. If you're not hurting anyone, who you love does not dictate your worth as a human being.
2) My body, my choice.
3) Healthcare is a right, not a privilege.
4) It is okay to change your mind.
5) Fear is the mind killer.
6) Sexism and racism are wrong...in every instance. (including against men, and white people)
7) The truth, taking responsibility, and showing integrity are the building blocks of a powerful society.
8) Art will always be relevant.
9) Change is constant.
10) "...and then we die." Life is too short to be spent on petty squabbles. Commit to the future work.
The Pendulum Swings
Then we went too far. (I'm about to be very honest)
Sexism is wrong. Except, apparently, when it's against a man. Instead of writing compelling female characters alongside their male counterparts, let's re-write those male heroes to be staggeringly flawed, broken, stupid, and overly emotional...and write our women to be stoic, flawless, and super-intelligent at all times. Have them fill the traditional male roles...every time. No exceptions. Make a fleet of girl-bosses; unstoppable, allied with all other females, unified against the blatant oppression of the male hero, with no struggles to overcome and no arcs to journey through - because you were always perfect, Queen. But male characters can be belittled, subservient, outclassed in their own expertise, and emasculated for a laugh.
...This was novel once. It is now the norm. And I'm exhausted.
Captain Marvel and Mulan were...strange. I actually think that Captain Marvel *mostly* worked in its first two acts, but the payoff felt unearned (she was always mega powerful, her powers were just being dampened). Unfortunately, this film's message now appears subtle in light of current trends.
The modern character of Mulan (the remake) BEGINS the film perfect - SHE has no arc. It's just the supporting cast that needs to recognize how awesome she is. In fact, she's NEVER actually defeated; the only time she comes close is against a witch (another oppressed female character). She doesn't even struggle. There is NOTHING for her to overcome.
What message does this send actually? "Feeling down, little girl? It's okay, just START at perfect. No big deal."
This wouldn't be such a slap in the face if the animated film didn't already exist. The original Disney Mulan doesn't know how to be a soldier or a lady; she doesn't fit into either category. But we identify with her nonetheless. She's witty, likable, interesting, and we can see some of her strengths beginning to shine through - she's determined, she rallies for what is right, and she thinks outside of the box. For all those good traits, though, she needs to be tempered; there are skills she lacks, and when she takes up arms to save her father, she has to LEARN how to be a soldier (a great musical montage, by the way). You SEE her progression from a girl to a soldier, and the Mulan we see Act to Act is a different version of herself, each one learning new lessons from struggles and defeats and challenges, bringing all that she has learned and cultivated to bear at the climax of the film when she squares off against Shan Yu.
And that's an intense fight, too! I remember seeing such an imposing force; Shan Yu is a BIG GUY, and is WRECKING the palace as Mulan flees from and dodges him. She doesn't go toe to toe with him on the physical stage - that would be impossible given her build and strength. Instead, she outsmarts him; outmaneuvers him. A skill that she has fostered throughout the film. She didn't start her journey at this level; in fact, the Mulan of the first act would probably have died a horrible death at the hands of this guy. But this Mulan grew; she leveled up to fight the boss.
That's a character. I love that character. And I'm a white dude.
Which, by the way, DOES NOT MATTER. My race and sex has NO BEARING on what I enjoy. I'm allowed to like things. That is all.
Fat Mice Don't Know What They're Doing
And I wouldn't be so defensive if actual, multi-billion dollar studios weren't weaponizing their fans against each other, gaslighting their audience trying to rewrite history (looking at you, Woman King and Cleopatra the "documentary"), or accusing their audience of racism or sexism just for not seeing a bad film. If a film looks bad, I won't see it, regardless if it's lead by a female ensemble (Ghostbusters, 2016). Make a good film first, focus on your checkboxes later.
This roiling landscape of shifting blame and shattered integrity, gaslighting and gatekeeping, crushing otherwise decent humans for the simple sin of not being interested - terrifies me on the grand scale of the entertainment industry. It is rare to find something without an agenda.
To which you reply, "It's entertainment, everyone has an agenda!" And yet, in the quiet corners of Hollywood, far from the bastions of scandal and woke, we get a Top Gun: Maverick - a film that makes no promises other than to be entertaining (and it delivers). Or a masterpiece like Puss In Boots: The Last Wish - a beautifully animated fairy tale with a lot to say on life, death, and happiness, if you just take the time to watch it. And though it was released before this string of years that feel like an eternity burrito wrapped in guilt, Spider-man: Into the Spiderverse is STILL lauded as one of the greatest animated films of all time. No messages or agendas...just stories.
And that is why I am so sad for Hollywood. The mainstream studios are precise and ironic examples of having so much potential, literally BILLIONS of dollars in resources, and not knowing how to use them. Disney walked into Star Wars without a plan, and it SHOWS. How embarrassing for them. How shameful. After decades of entertainment, the execs didn't think far enough ahead to avoid becoming a laughingstock in the industry.
Disney's stock dropped by 50% and HAS NOT RECOVERED. If you feel the same as I on their business practices, we could literally collectively buy them out, and start over. It is baffling the rate at which the fandom has turned on Disney and others like them; no matter the remaining projects, it is clear that one of the biggest studios on the planet is mishandling a beloved franchise, and burning the other to the ground.
Remember, inclusion and diversity are not a bad thing. Vilifying specific groups to raise up others...is.
Thor is now a moron to laughable levels to pave the way for...Taika Watiiti? Valkyrie? I actually don't know. Just seems mean-spirited for no reason.
Loki has been reduced to a moron to make way for Female Loki (Sylvie).
The Mandalorian has been reduced in intelligence, agency, and resourcefulness to make way for Bo Katan.
Hawkeye is a side character in his own show (even though I like Kate Bishop).
Bruce Banner, a literal genius, who has gone through over five films of character development and personal growth, is reduced to a montage of jokes and outclassed in every way by She-Hulk because "Go Women," I guess.
The list, unfortunately, goes on, and the House of Mouse's hate boner for their legacy characters is baffling. It's also COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY. You don't have to diminish or destroy one character to lift up another. You can retain and respect where a character has come from AND usher in the next generation. That way, you don't alienate fans.
Instead, what we're getting is a push too hard and too fast toward certain "woke" ideologies to the point of brow-beating, scolding, and pandering. As if we should all feel bad for liking Phase 1, 2, or 3. That because we identified with a flawed character who grew over time (ya know, with an arc), that we're "part of the problem." That if we can't connect with a flawless, superpowered, rude heroine that belittles and conquers the weak men around her with little effort...then we're just sexist, and should shut up.
This is backfiring while these studios double down. It is appalling, and a complete waste of time. Better scripts, better films, better plans. That's how you win us back. I will not be guilted into watching a crap product.
Most of what I see, I'm not excited for. I don't look forward to many films. The system is currently broken.
But there are glimmers; rays of possibility, stretching outside the echo chamber to actually make art again. And, as I've stated, that is one of our fundamental truths.
Thank you for reading this long.
Stay safe out there, nerds.
In 2002, shortly after wrapping filming on Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, acclaimed Irish Actor Richard Harris passed away. Known for numerous rolls dating all the way back to the 1950s, Harris was fondly remembered in his later years for his stoicism and calm, commanding presence - most notably featured in his roles as Albus Dumbledore and Marcus Aurelius (Gladiator, 2000). His fellow actors mourned his loss with reverence and respect.
In 2004, Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban released and Michael Gambon took on the mantle of Albus Dumbledore. He received expected criticism and praise for his rendition, and he did his best to honor the groundwork laid by the late Harris. The collective audience also mourned Harris, and we understood; it sucked, but the show must go on.
Actors are people. And sometimes those people die.
Characters are immortal.
On August 28th, 2020, accomplished and iconic actor Chadwick Boseman passed away. Unbeknownst to the larger public, Boseman had been battling colon cancer throughout most of his career. His charisma and professionalism was intoxicating on and off the set, landing iconic roles of heroes real and fictional alike. Most notably before his death, Boseman was instrumental in bringing a faithful and powerful face to Black Panther in 4 films, one of which his own flagship.
Black Panther both as a film and a character were startlingly successful. Not unlike Robert Downey Jr., who no one could see as anything but Iron Man, many people had cemented Boseman in the role of Black Panther. At the eve of his death, amidst the mourning, came the question: Who would replace him? The character's story was meant to continue - who could wear the mantle?
But in Modern Hollywood, actors are intrinsically bound to their characters. If Boseman weren't around to play him, then there would be no T'Challa.
Now, comics offer storytelling branches too numerous to count. Ways to lift the mantle of Black Panther and place it upon another; these stories do it all the time. The character of Shuri (played by Letitia Wright), for example, takes on the mantle at some point in the character's history - so this is certainly an option, and, spoilers, is precisely what happened.
However, in the 20 years between Harris's death (who was beloved as Dumbledore) and the release of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever in 2022, something fundamentally changed. I think Wakanda Forever still did its best to honor Boseman and what he brought to the character...but something just didn't sit right about it.
Actors are NOT their characters.
In Star Trek: Beyond (the third film in the Abrams reboot franchise), the character of Hikaru Sulu was shown to have a husband and a daughter. It wasn't a big deal in the film, just a few passing shots, but it struck a strange chord with people. John Cho, the new Sulu, leaned into the idea without issue. However, the change was in homage to George Takei, the original actor known for the role, who is now openly gay. Thing is, Takei calls the adjustment, "unfortunate." Hikaru Sulu is canonically straight in the original Star Trek series. To make him gay just because the original actor is, is weird and misplaced. In fact, Zachary Quinto, who plays Spock in the reboot, is openly gay, but his character is in a heterosexual relationship with Nyota Uhura. The former is strange, the latter is fine. The difference is in blurring the lines between actor and character.
Now, it's a reboot, so romances, sexualities, even genders can be changed, swapped, whatever. It is not, inherently, a bad thing. But it did set a strange precedent.
Blurring The Lines Between The Screen
I wonder sometimes on the parasocialism of television and film. How engrossed some of us are in the visions depicted on screen: who is acting, who they are, their lives and struggles, separating them from the character they portray, or mixing it all together. When a portrayal really connects, do we unconsciously place an undue weight upon it? We enjoy them so much, that if they were to ever leave...it would be akin to a death in the family. And that to live through that pain would fill us with fear that we may never connect in such a way again.
I understand the difference between life and fiction. I grew up in the theater - I was an understudy often, stepping up and stepping in when others were sick. I did scene work, and props, and sets. I sang backup, I sang lead, I harmonized. Portrayals change all the time. Each one is a gift and a curse, and each one I welcome.
There is a nuance to acting, and there are many actors.
Am I sad that Chadwick Boseman left us? Absolutely.
Do I think he is the only person on this planet that can play T'Challa? Absolutely not.
And I am concerned about the death grip that some studios tighten on actors for the characters they play.
For 17 years, Hugh Jackman depicted the role of Logan/Wolverine in all X-Men films. His star power became the key draw to the franchise, launching the character to center stage. After Logan (2017), it seemed that Jackman could put the character to rest. Currently 54, Jackman had been undergoing intense physical training just to MAINTAIN the strength and aesthetic of The Wolverine, which has only become MORE insane as time has gone on.
Jackman, during a late night talk show after Logan's release, was asked how he achieved the "ripped and beaten" look of his character, to which Jackman replied, "Well, there's thing called dehydration..." I laughed, but the audience was silent, so Jackman continued to explain to the idiot audience that he would DEHYDRATE himself to the point where the layer of moisture in his skin would deplete, so we can see all his muscles. The extra bit we don't get in the interview is the fact that he would act in his scenes and then take a tiny thimble of water so as not to PASS OUT. (the male fitness standard for Hollywood is mile-high stupid)
Not until the announcement of Deadpool 3 did we think Jackman would return.
But here's the thing: Wolverine is a character. What happens when Jackman is really done? Can the mantle be passed?
This viewer hopes so - give the guy a break, would ya? Let him drink some water, too.
When Robert Downey Jr. announced his last hurrah as Tony Stark, his character was killed. When Chris Evans moved on from Captain America, his character passed away. I don't know if that's an act of respect, like "no one could replace you," or an act to avoid the vocal minority of a fanbase that grew too attached.
Or MAYBE. We just need a break. Steve Rogers and Tony Stark had one hell of an arc; no question. Endgame put a powerful, and graceful bow on that. I'm pretty satisfied with it. AND. If they were to return, could I see another actor wear the shield or put on the suit - unequivocally YES.
I just want to make sure that our actors can be ACTORS first, and characters when they want to be. It is our job as audience members to keep them separate; they have lives too, and we would want to grant them the grace we all deserve. To step down from a role, to pass the torch with a blessing, to keep their lives separate from their work, and to pass on with peace and grace.
I don't know what my point is today, or tomorrow, but thank you for reading.
Obi-Wan Kenobi had some problems. Let's talk about it.
(Spoiler Warning for: Seasons 1 & 2 of The Mandalorian, Season 1 of The Book Of Boba Fett, and Obi-Wan Kenobi)
Disney Has A Problem With Connective Tissue
There is a reason we connected so strongly with The Mandalorian.
We didn't know him. He had no connection to other canon lore in any direct way. We got to learn who he was and how he operates through his actions, words, and interaction with (at the time) The Child. It became a deep space-western of high stakes and interesting characters, most of whom are just regular-ass people, Mando included.
I cannot tell you how refreshing it was to hang out with this regular guy (who is an excellent warrior, mind you) as he gets beat up, thrown around, shot up, and has to think his way in and around his threats. He ain't got no magic floaty crap; this bloke has to figure this stuff out with context clues, connections, and a quickdraw blaster holster.
It took its time like a new age western, settled in to the quiet spaces between planets, and we didn't know where it was headed.
Season 2 did well enough, but I could feel the bloat. The intimate concentration was beginning to rip and tear as we were introduced to other fan favorites like Ahsoka and Boba Fett (I'm coming for you, bounty hunter), both played well by their respective actors...but if you've got Ahsoka and Boba Fett, then the hooks of connection are being pushed into the skin. It's hard, because it can feel good to see them, but they always threaten to overstay their welcome, and make Mando a sidecar in his own show.
I loved the introduction of the Darksaber at the close of Season 1, and the implications it presents. For Mando to claim it at the Season 2 close is epic and intriguing. Even the introduction of The Heiress herself, Bo-Katan, didn't bother me one bit. It expands the setting to other possibilities rooted in Mandalorian lore, and remains unconnected to anything in established canon. ...I knew a Jedi needed to show up to get Grogu. And seeing a Jedi ripping through droids was also awesome.
Did it HAVE to be Luke?
Sure, we KNOW Luke. We know he's a good guy, fans like him, and he's a canonical throwback.
But hear me out here... Did it HAVE TO BE HIM?
We have established through multitudes of extra media that numerous Jedi did indeed survive Order 66. One of my favorites, Plo Koon, a Kel-Dor Jedi, was killed when his ship was shot down in Episode III...but when has that ever stopped anyone? Dude can breathe in space and force-healing is an established power among old force users, plus Bacta Tanks exist. Heck, make him half-droid if you want him scarred in some way (characters have come back from worse). HE would have been an interesting choice.
...Because (and say it with me now) WE DON'T KNOW HIM. There are enough fans out there that know OF him, and that rarity breeds creativity and connection. It also opens the door for new stories to be told.
Luke Skywalker...everyone knows. He's the "safe" option.
Except he isn't safe. If episodes 7-9 are canon, we KNOW what happens to Luke, but Disney's pretty embarrassed about parts of those films, so they won't try to connect things, but then they will, but then they won't. All the while their special effects artists are bending over backwards to bleed money into their deep fake technology to make a Luke Skywalker that's 30 years younger. Yeah, Luke was the SAFE option.
If they went with Plo Koon, or any other B-list Jedi that could have survived Order 66 (and there are a few), or shoe-in Mara Jade for no apparent reason, it would have opened doors to new storytelling possibilities. Instead they closed the loop...only to rip it open later in the only episode of Boba Fett I was actually 100% engaged in (sorry Boba). You know the one I'm talking about - the one that starts with Mando wrecking shop, cutting folks in half with a blade he doesn't know how to use, cuts himself with it, then limps through a casino in one great long take. The one dripping with cinematography, atmosphere, quiet, and excellent performances.
I thought Boba Fett was a hit and a miss. I enjoyed his flashbacks, and waited patiently for him to be a badass...and was disappointed at almost every turn. I enjoyed how he would gather the outsiders into his employ...if only they didn't look so ridiculous given the rest of the city's aesthetic. I enjoyed his relationship with the Tuskens...unfortunately someone murdered them all and he never questioned his information. I was waiting for him to get a few steps ahead of his enemies...it took a long long time, and he still wrecked half the city he was ruling. What a guy. AND I enjoyed the show start to finish. It did some things remarkably well; I wasn't disappointed...I was just waiting for the writers to push the envelope. Boba Fett is honorable, which is awesome, but he doesn't have to be "good." They touched this line, but they didn't walk it. Still playing it more safe, less interesting.
Maybe we don't need to explore pre-existing characters. Maybe what we crave are new stories; new possibilities. Disney has a bad habit of bleeding the same cow dry, then pumping it full of necrotic energy just to get a little more. It can create stories devoid of tension, ideas, and creativity - mountains of missed opportunities in the face of playing it "safe".
Kenobi Starts Strong
Obi-Wan Kenobi (sorry, his name is Ben, he gets mad about it) joins the long string of tired old men no longer at the peak of their combat performance. He's lost most of his connections to the Force, he's buried his lightsaber, he smells bad, and he hides in a cave. He's also lost his moral center, content to watch injustice play out in front of him.
Now, before I harp on the guy too hard, he has good reason. The show sets up our main antagonists immediately - The Inquisitors. A bunch of Sith enforcers under Darth Vader with propeller double lightsabers. First seen in Star Wars Rebels and the Fallen Order video game, they are cruel and sadistic, and their leader speaks to one of the core themes: Jedi hunt themselves through their actions. Jedi cannot stand by and allow injustice to rule; they must act, they must help, they must fight - so they are caught by their actions. As if on cue, they out a young Padawan on the run, but lose him in the crowd. He goes to Obi-Wan for help, but is turned away; our protagonist finds him hanging from a scaffold in the town square later.
Obi-Wan is doing what he needs to stay hidden. He isn't helping; he doesn't fight for the people, he stays out of things. At this moment, he isn't a hero. Which is frustrating for us - but that's the point. His arch is established; we're going to see him RISE.
The Lack Of Stakes
He rises through his relationship with a young Princess Leia, who is kidnapped by The Inquisitors in an attempt to out Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Inquisitors are playing off the idea that Kenobi fought with Senator Organa in the Clone Wars, so he'll help him out by getting his daughter back, but it's an interesting gamble.
Nonetheless he finds her, gets her out, and rekindles some of his connection to the Force by saving her from falling off a building. It's a good string of scenes, but I KNOW that nothing happens to Leia, so any time she is in danger...I'm just waiting for it to end, or someone to save her, because she CAN'T DIE. She literally has plot armor; and hurting kids just wouldn't be cool anyway, so she'll be dandy. Those moments act like puzzles; it isn't IS SHE going to make it out, it is HOW she is going to make it out. Luck, and stupid guards, most of the time.
Kenobi is also equally safe, though he can certainly get beat to hell. In fact, any scene involving Vader (you heard me) and Kenobi, is pretty good, and Vader ain't playing around; he is there to torture his old master. And where Kenobi has been aging and losing connection to the force, Vader's been (presumably) hunting down Jedi and killing them (lore pre-established in some games and I am HERE TO SEE IT please).
Let's talk about Vader for a second here. Dude's powerful, like super powerful. He's been juicin' on Dark Side gains in the off-season and it shows. Guy can sense folks inside ships, force choke through screens, pull ships out of the sky like it was nothing... But conveniently has a hard time sensing his old master when the plot deems it so. When he IS on screen, hoo boy is it cool, but you just feel bad for Kenobi - who's outmatched, outgunned, and only a shadow of who he once was. So instead of two old masters clashing, it's a cat and mouse.
Now, a "cat and mouse" works well to illustrate the depth of threat here, but Disney messed up the delivery. Imagine for a second that Kenobi believes Anakin dead, begins getting pursued by the Inquisitors, closing in, then is forced into a corner, dispatching them one by one and getting messed up in the process...only at the end for Vader to show up...and Kenobi doesn't know who he is! At least not at first; he'll sense him, be confused, and then the shock hits him - Anakin is alive inside this twisted machine of malice and hate, and he's here to kill him.
WHAT A REVEAL THAT WOULD BE. Crushing, terrible, and dangerous. Just barely escaping to regroup. Oh, it would have been beautiful!
What we got? Still menacing, but no gauntlet of Inquisitors. Lots of running and hiding, because dude hasn't swung a lightsaber in years (and it shows). And he knew it was coming - the concept of Anakin alive was fed to him by another Inquisitor. It sets up some cool flashbacks, but they could have come later; there was no imperative reason that pushed those elements to the fore. Which brings me to my other major gripe.
Setup and Payoff
There is a term in film referred to as Chekhov's Gun. It is a dramatic principle coined by one Russian playwright, Anton Chekhov. It states that all significant details introduced into a story should serve a narrative function, and irrelevant elements should be removed. Elements that never come into play act as "false promises" to the audience, eroding their trust and enjoyment.
Now, Kenobi is pretty tight for its runtime, and does a decent job in setting up elements to be used later. A Jedi's entire power set is a framework for Chekhov's Gun. Show them studying a new power? It should show up later in an impactful way. They retrieve their lightsaber? They better pull that sucker out when it matters.
And it works for everything. Want a character to have an impactful, dramatic sacrifice involving a thermal detonator? Show them clipping that detonator to their belt, or talking about it. A character mentions their undercover experience? Time for an infiltration!
These aren't cheap tricks. It's filmmaking 101. A more broad term for this is Setup and Payoff. If you introduce an element, there should be a satisfying payoff for it. Time isn't usually a factor - some elements play the long game, some are a few seconds of sequence. A change of lighting can be its own setup, and the flare of a blade summoned into being is the payoff. Subtle and elegant, loud and obnoxious, it fits all types.
But you have to plan for these things. It requires time, practice, and follow-through. Unfortunately, it seems, Disney built many setups and either haven't paid them off yet, or forgot about them altogether (and considering there's no real reason for a Season 2, my money's on the latter).
Below you'll find a few instances that stung - wonderful setups with either no payoff, or something less than satisfying:
1. In the first episode, we're shown Kenobi slicing meat in an assembly line and walking down the line to get his wages. The poor guy ahead of him notices that the wage is half from the day before, but the boss is aggressive about it, so he just takes it. Kenobi watches, gets his pay, and doesn't cause trouble. My thought: Kenobi's in a dark, repressed place, but he's a good guy; maybe he'll check up on that guy's family later and send them some food that he caught in the wilds, or we'll see him back on the line at the end and he sticks up for the guy, using his Jedi Mind Trick to help out the workers subtly. REALITY: we never see that old gentleman again. Can this still work to illustrate Kenobi's state of mind on the surface? Of course! But it feels like a missed opportunity.
2. Somewhere near the middle of the run, Leia gets captured, threatened, and then strapped to some machine. The Inquisitor gets called away, leaving two Stormtroopers to guard her. Then the lights go out. My thought: we're going to see a lightsaber blur into being just long enough to watch a trooper get cut down, the other's gonna' freak out and fire, either hitting his buddy and then getting a blaster bolt deflected into him or get cut down just as fast. Kenobi's cut through droids and blast doors like butter before, this is going to look so cool! REALITY: a blue lightsaber springs into being and clocks a Stormtrooper, bouncing off of him like a baseball bat (what?), then cuts him down in 3-4 swings. The other guy, apparently too slow to notice or shoot, shouts into the darkness before Kenobi reappears and baps him around a bit before we finally see a streak through his armor. My issue: Lightsabers don't behave like that. They never have. They deflect blaster fire, which isn't stopped by trooper armor. They punch through blast doors feet thick. Those troopers aren't my man Mando in bescar plate; lightsabers cut through them like butter. This fact is compounded by at least three other instances where higher level soldiers are straight up STABBED THROUGH THE CHEST by a lightsaber, and a door is sliced open. Just...why? Stabbing's no big issue, but slicing's bad?
3. Our Inquisitor of spoilers goes by the name Reva. She is ruthless, rageful, and trying hard to get that sweet sweet Grand Inquisitor title. Turns out (SPOILERS) she's actually a youngling who lived through the purge at the Jedi temple. She says she played dead, but it's unclear if Anakin just missed her or didn't deal a killing blow. Reva has joined the Inquisitors and risen through the ranks in order to kill Vader herself; revenge for those he slaughtered during the purge. Kenobi guesses this with previous clues and the two hatch a plan where Kenobi can get some rebels to safety and she can get her revenge. My thought: Vader's coming and he's coming fast; I can't wait to see him wreck shop! I heard that he can pull ships, so maybe he'll grab onto their runaway ship and Kenobi will resist him, which distracts him long enough for Reva to strike. She'll get a few good hits in, Obi-Wan escapes, and then she's done for, but it'll be a poignant duel. REALITY: Vader wrecks shop, ripping a ship from the sky faster than anyone I've seen, and starts tearing it apart like a cat on meth. Then, a SECOND ship that we've never seen before lifts off at blinding speed and zooms into space (looked janky as hell). Dude can sense everything, but couldn't tell that the ship he just turned into tissue paper was empty or that the one 5 feet from it had his old master. So...after Kenobi and company are long gone...Reva finally makes her move. He stops her, toys with her, it's not even a fight. Then he stabs her through the chest and she dies. What did she think was going to happen? Kenobi gave her an opening and she didn't take it.
4. ...Reva doesn't die. Lady gets stabbed literally through the chest by a freaking lightsaber and just...walks it off. My thought: ...okay. Well, maybe she can spin a little redemption and join Obi-Wan in the final battle; maybe she fights off the other Inquisitors so Kenobi can get to Vader! REALITY: (In a move that feels like a quick re-shoot) Reva learns that Vader has a son on Tatooine, gets her broken ass up and over there in record time, BEATS UP UNCLE OWEN AND AUNT VARU, chases little Luke into the desert and makes him slip on some rocks and get knocked out, then draws her lightsaber with the intent to kill him. ...Except she can't do it, she LITERALLY CAN'T. So what stops her is that she sees herself in the boy and returns him to his family. Not sure what they'll tell little Luke about his harrowing experience... What a waste.
The most frustrating thing about these is that if someone just took some time and thought about the whole package, the internal consistency of their own series, took one more sweep in the writer's room...all of this could have been cleaner, stronger, and more satisfying. In the end, it feels so rushed for something that needed to feel thoughtful and genuine.
In a nutshell, episode to episode, the series still delivers on its emotional beats. It does a lot of things VERY well (showing a galaxy actually occupied by troops, Imperial sympathizers, spies, and the beginnings of a rebellion), and our young Princess Leia has Carrie Fisher's tenacity down pat.
Was it truly necessary to include Luke and Leia to this degree?
Luke's inclusion, from a distance, makes sense. Kenobi and Owen are friends, or at least used to be. By the time Episode IV rolls around, Owen wants Luke to have nothing to do with "old Ben", and Luke doesn't have any relationship with the guy. He's supposed to protect from a distance and be a recluse; that makes sense.
Leia on the other hand... If she shared this beautiful friendship (and it is quite wonderfully done, mind you) with Obi-Wan Kenobi...then why does she feel nothing when he dies in Episode IV (it barely registers for her). She knows OF him through her father, Senator Organa, but if this whole adventure happened in the first place, did she just forget all about him? Do they visit, do they talk, do they learn of each other as Leia grows up? (if they're trying so hard to connect relationships, this one hits strangely for me, like we're missing something)
And how does Luke have no knowledge of the force or lightsabers if a literal Sith chased him into the desert. Now, Owen knew she was coming and told Luke that it was a Tusken Raider, and you could argue that perhaps he never saw the lightsaber, but again if THIS happened, other events don't add up.
Now a lot of these gripes and elements are the product of a changing landscape and an expansion of creative content. Not everything can line up perfectly all the time, wrapped up in a nice neat bow. I should be happy we got the show at all. And, considering that what they're connecting is nearly a 50 year span of creative content, including sweeping changes to film and television technology, how we consume and discuss media, and how companies react to those discussions.
WHAT IF YOU JUST DIDN'T INCLUDE THEM?
The show is about the Inquisitors hunting down Jedi and Vader seeking Obi-Wan Kenobi. It's about Kenobi's realization that Anakin is alive, but actually dead, and that the idea of Vader killed what he once was. It's about their clash, and Kenobi's rise from a man in hiding back to a Jedi Master. It's about him subduing threats to himself and the boy quietly in the sand, or across the galaxy in the forests of Alderaan. I am here for THAT story; where he can never find true connection, but must protect while he struggles with his guilt over Anakin.
Sure, Leia did great. Props to her. Excellent performance.
Sure, Leia's new droid will sell a million toys. It's adorable.
Sure, Kenobi and Vader's duel will elevate other Star Wars content because it really was that good.
It just didn't push any boundaries. Everyone acts the way you expect them, lines written that we've heard a million times before, and outcomes that MUST work out...because other content exists. The need for Disney to CONNECT every piece of their Star Wars universe has pushed them into difficult corners. For now, we can shrug and let it go. But how long can they do this before they have drained every last ounce of story from known characters and they must (GASP) head in a new direction? (let's hope they actually plan it this time)
It was good enough.
It was safe.
And not very interesting.
May the Force Be With You.
Star Wars has no business being this good.
With the critical miasma of divisive reviews flooding the airways after The Last Jedi and The Rise Of Skywalker (whatever your personal opinion), this franchise has been in desperate need of a new energy. ...Which is precisely what "Visions" provides. Where the franchise shines is in short vignettes; self-contained stories in a multitude of styles and directions.
The Mandalorian made us love Star Wars again, and reinforced the idea that it was a world we wanted to explore outside of a main cinematic experience. This animated anthology is the next logical step in that exploration.
When the Animatrix came out, Warner Bros. pulled out all the stops. They drew in absolute giants of the anime field; VISIONARY directors and animation studios, truly artful expressions and ideas - some directly linked to sequel bait, others just concentrated, intimate stories - that captured the atmosphere of the setting and respected its potential in storytelling.
Star Wars: Visions is precisely this approach. Acclaimed directors and studios, some of the finest animators in the world, each striking their brush on this titanic canvas. The vignettes and snap-shot stories they produce play with concepts and ideas already expressed inside this universe, and stretch the boundaries of what becomes possible within each frame. In a word, these stories are BEAUTIFUL. Striking, kinetic, magnificent, and driven.
It's worth noting that these tiny stories are considered non-canon, and I think that's freeing to the artists. No one has to worry about tying anything into anything, so creators can explore more deeply the vibrant and weird of their own interpretations. And things certainly get WEIRD.
They also get mega badass. From the first vignette (The Duel), you know you're in for something special. An artistic style thrown back into the realms of the Seven Samurai - black and white cell-shades where the only color is electronics and the glow of a lightsaber; I was ENTHRALLED.
Based on visuals, I actually expected the violence to be a bit more brutal, but it's Disney+, so we ain't getting that here. In fact, if I may, some of our stories DID suffer from their "stream-ability". Each episode is about 24 minutes long, and while some stories filled that time easily, many others carried with them a strange sense of FILLER. It makes me think on Disney's first and second season of Short Cuts - 90-second short films by a menagerie of directors and artists within Disney's animation teams. So much story-driven information had to be conveyed in such a short time and even some of those felt too long, or not long enough. Restriction breeds creativity, yes, but when you have MORE MONEY THAN GOD, maybe you could stretch some of those bindings; give time where it is needed and trim it where it is not.
Lightsabers Work Correctly
Though the nine stories have a dread fascination with Jedi (I mean, seriously, could somebody just NOT be force-sensitive for once?), they definitely understand how a lightsaber is supposed to work. Blades slice through metal and stone, clash against each other, pierce through armor, and cut through droids like paper. Each short sets up its expectations, and stays consistent in the rules of the world (unlike Kenobi, that is - marvel as the old Jedi Master swings a lightsaber like a bat and it BOUNCES OFF stormtrooper armor, but then it deflects blaster fire and THAT pierces trooper armor; not to mention that sabers can easily pierce through blast doors...rant subsided for now).
This anthology plants a highly specific, binding seed of specific knowledge across every vignette: Crystals - the essential component of any lightsaber, each with their own colors and qualities - apparently denote the morality of their wielder. In terms of lore canon, this ALMOST fits.
Each crystal is supposed to have a different color; every game, novel, and comic confirms this. With over 60 to choose from, there are a lot of possibilities, and though each had mechanical benefits, ANY could be used to construct the blade due to the versatility and elegance of a lightsaber's design. However, to my knowledge and research, no mined crystal produces a red beam; red was built from a SYNTHETIC mock-up of a crystal. Something to save on cost and overclock power. In recent lore, it is posited that the energies of the Dark Side corrupt and disfigure a crystal within the hilt, turning it red. Every Sith villain in the canon rocks that red lightsaber, yet we don't see any corruption take place (something I'd LOVE to see, or the inverse of a redeemed Sith); often they just get a new one and it's red.
In Visions, each of the nine stories holds to a purer idea: the Crystal reveals the true nature of its wielder. It is the narrative's lie detector. Somebody's all kind and cool? Oops, their blade is red! This person's kind of a jerk? Except their blade is green, so they must be a double agent! It's a color wheel of morality, and it is utilized in some fun ways.
Not sure if it's a little too "on-the-nose" though, at least moving forward. For Disney, it's a device to clearly illustrate who we're rooting for in a dance of robes and lasers, but for me, an adult, I might be craving a little more nuance. Like I said at the start, THIS IS NOT CANON, so let's go a little crazy. Let's go deeper, ask some bigger questions! Not everything needs to be so black and white, or red and blue/green/yellow/purple/orange/white. (next blog I'm going to don my nerd glasses and go deeper on this whole blade color thing...)
Every story here is DRIPPING with iconic style. The animation studios pulled out all the stops to craft a memorable work of art. So you're not here all day reading about me gushing on this, I'd like to talk briefly about each one:
1. The Duel - set in an alternative timeline reminiscent of feudal Japan, a Ronin comes to the aid of a village ravaged by bandits. "Vintage" black and white cgi where color pops through lasers and electronics, this is a masterclass in shading, light, and taking your time to build tension. Fun fact: this one is so good that it's getting its own graphic novel and full comic series!
2. Tatooine Rhapsody - during the Clone Wars, a Padawan becomes a rock star in a world run by dangerous Hutts. Frenetic and energized animation, injecting some vibrant comedy after that first episode. Not gonna' lie, I wasn't engaged with this one on the first go around; maybe it felt like whiplash from The Duel, or maybe it was little too juvenile for my tastes. A second viewing did better.
3. The Twins - in the remnants of the Empire after The Rise Of Skywalker, two force prodigies battle over the decision to annihilate a planet. This one was WILD. Reminded me a lot shonen anime battles; the over-the-top Naruto fights with huge powers and pregnant pauses. Anyone who has played The Unleashed games will feel right at home with how much power is displayed on screen here - they're fighting IN SPACE, on top of a Star Destroyer. It's pretty nuts. Pay attention to this short's use of color and quick framerate, but be prepared for a substantial suspension of disbelief. Can't explain it? The Force did it!
4. The Village Bride - years after Order 66, a Padawan travels to a distant planet and comes to the aid of a village ravaged by bandits. This one felt powerfully grounded, animation simple and efficient. A coming of age story and another samurai vibe.
5. The Ninth Jedi - many generations after the fall of the Jedi, an old master invites seven Jedi to his temple to receive lightsabers whose design has been lost to time; buy spies are everywhere and not everything is as it seems. ...This one is my favorite; it's clean, powerful, intense, and has a healthy number of twists. Plus, and it's worth noting that the fight choreography has been great so far, but boy did I NOTICE it in this one. I don't want to spoil, but it's real good. If you skip the rest of the series, watch this one at least!
6. T0-B1 - A cybernetic boy, who dreams of being a Jedi, discovers a dangerous truth about his creator. Gotta' be honest, I didn't like this one as much. The art style has that Astroboy vibe, and overall brings some interesting concepts to life (it is quite cute). I suppose after all these serious stories, it's nice to get a little kiddy. Just not my mood (could be yours!).
7. The Elder - A Jedi and his Padawan pursue a dark and powerful presence. Cut and dry Sith hunt; great tension, cool animation, straight-forward (style reminds me a lot of Avatar: The Last Airbender).
8. Lop and Ocho - A family is torn about what to do when the Empire encroaches on their planet. This one features an unnamed race in the character Lop, a bunny-like fursona adopted into a humanoid family. When the Empire colonize the planet and recruit, the two sisters come to an impasse and clash over the independence of their business. Raises some neat questions about the families stuck in the trenches and makes this feel like a military occupation - like a war - and in war, there are consequences.
9. Akakiri - A Jedi returns to his forbidden love to help defend her kingdom from a Sith-like Shogun. Animation style takes some getting used to and it certainly stands out. Feels like a western wrapped up in sushi platter with a dash of True Grit with a twist; shaken, not stirred. It wasn't what I expected, and was definitely memorable.
These stories were made through a love of Star Wars, simple and powerful. They began to push the boundaries of storytelling, and open the setting to fans young and old, which is EXACTLY what Disney needs. To explore droids as Jedi, expanding the racial lexicon of characters, redefining a force-user, and diving deeper into paths of darkness, death, and redemption.
Glad we're getting a Season 2. I'll keep holding out hope for a story about a regular Joe and Jill in this universe.
May The Force Be With You All.
It is rare that I watch a show that sticks with me days after it is done.
In the deluge of modern entertainment, lasting power and rewatchability are rare properties. We can consume content at a record's pace, and sometimes its lesser folk are a blur of drawn-out content and characters that don't grow. We remember the best parts faintly, and hold fast to what we can, happy to discard the majority of the experience and move forward with little changed within.
It is rare that an art piece might grip us by the soul and pull our tethers to watch it over and over again, marveling at the subtle hues and colors and words and sparks hidden between the cracks of its foundation - that we might seek to dive deeper and deeper into its ocean, and drink every drop of the marrow within.
It is rare that a series holds weight in every episode, every scene, every carefully crafted word; not a wasted frame, nothing without intention or vibrancy. It is rare that a series might summon an endless array of discussion, documentary, analysis, and theoretical depth.
I have not felt this amount of depth since the close of Avatar: The Last Airbender.
This is high praise. Anyone who has seen Avatar to its completion understands its mantle of the "greatest animated series ever made." Subtle elements, powerful arcs, beautiful animation, and a maturity no one ever expected. Avatar made a world its viewers wanted to return to over and over again; fascinating, terrifying, exquisite, mystical.
And I tell you, from the bottom of my heart, that Arcane matches this in every aspect.
A Little Background
Arcane: League Of Legends is a 9-part animated series set in one of the game's many nations. In the industrial, stratified city of Piltover, embers of war threaten to ignite between the aristocratic "top-siders" and the undercity dwellers of Zaun, and caught between these threads resonates an emotional and driven story of two sisters driven apart and crashing back together over several years.
Fans of the game series will find a treasure trove of easter eggs and deeper content while still being taken along for the ride of the story as it sets up characters, provides context, and develops the world.
And yet, you don't need to know anything about League Of Legends to enjoy this. In fact, other than my minimal knowledge gleaned from strictly music videos, I know next to NOTHING. And I was BLOWN AWAY by this series. I've watched it three times through already.
Not New Territory
Riot (the creators of League Of Legends) are no strangers to animation, having produced dozens of animated shorts to promote and expand the opportunities of their wildly popular game franchise, but here is something very different. This isn't a commercial or some random flex - this is a deep story with outstanding writing, animation, and music (Riot is one of those production companies that, as a musician, I can really get behind - they GET it).
Released in 3-episode "acts", the entire series is now live on Netflix, and it's all the animation community can talk about in recent weeks.
If anything, this story serves as the best possible introduction to this universe as a story-scape, as anyone who knows nothing is going to get a lot out of this just as a series, and anyone who knows more is going to explode.
A Story About Relationships
As any good writer knows, the power is never in the world-building, but the relationships found within. Our main leads hold distinct threads that bind them together in the paradigms they protect, and even if or when severed, continue to mold their own development.
The writers forged their story with this in mind as characters grow and change in profound and interesting ways over the course of the season - time skips included. At no point does a character act "out" of themselves to serve a different narrative or force conflict where there isn't one; everyone's actions make sense given their circumstances, and episode to episode, each of our ensemble cast pushes beyond any hope of a trope, fulfilling fully fleshed-out characters that you are rooting for.
It is this attention to characterization and detail that stands out the most to me. There isn't a character in the main squad that I dislike - even our villains - because their depth of growth and exploration imbues something tangible in them. These are less and less cartoons, and more and more like people; they behave naturally in the world that surrounds them. Which makes it that much more powerful when the story cuts swathes in them with broad strokes.
Give It A Shot
I know I'm speaking pretty general here, and what I am saying is all praise, but this entry is just a recommendation. Will I be doing a deeper editorial analysis on characterization and psychology? The answer is a resounding YES, but for now, I don't want to spoil a single drop of this for anyone.
If you trust my judgement even a modicum, go settle in and give it a watch. Then...we'll discuss.
See you soon.
Professional Game Master musician, music teacher, game designer, amateur bartender, and aspiring fiction author.
Honestly, I write what I want when I want. Often monster lore, sometimes miniature showcases, and the occasional movie/show review.