juushika

2023 has thusfar been the year of manga. And is it good manga? you may ask; and I answer: literally Gantz set the bar so low that like, yeah, the rest's been great.


Title: Gantz
Author: Hiroya Oku
Published: 2000-2013
Rating: 2.5 of 5
Page Count: 8005 (224+224+226+226+224+224+224+224+232+200+200+224+232+224+200+200+200+204+232+208+208+200+216+216+208+200+232+232+218+192+218+218+218+218+218+216+226)
Total Page Count: 466,195
Text Number: 1598-1634
Read Because: personal enjoyment
Review: After his untimely death, our protagonist is conscripted into a pseudo-posthumous game, a fight for survival against alien lifeforms. The protagonist's early characterization is incredibly irritating, giving this an inauspicious start - but there's some great early arcs: the aliens are weird, the fights are brutal, causalities abound, and the protagonist undergoes significant, complicated character growth.

Pity then that even the good arcs are frequently interrupted by awful arcs (the fireball-shooting dinos stand out) and the second half is just ... bad, ironically losing coherency as the worldbuilding become more substantial. And it's full of fanservice, and the female characters are woefully under-served by the mangaka's misogyny. And the battle scenes are frequently incomprehensible, and the ending drags on and on.

I don't regret the good bits of this, but I sure do regret finishing it. Unfortunately there's no clean division of "sometimes good" and "pure garbage," although the Oni arc is probably a decent end point. Alternately, flee at the first sight of vampires; you'll miss a few good scenes but vastly cut your losses.

( Gantz: 0 )


Title: Kimi wa Petto aka Tramps Like Us
Author: Yayoi Ogawa
Published: 2000-2005
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Page Count: 2620 (184+188+184+178+192+192+192+192+185+188+182+179+192+192)
Total Page Count: 469,515
Text Number: 1638-1651
Read Because: reread
Review: A business woman rescues a young man she finds passed out in a cardboard box, and lets him stay with her on one condition: he becomes her pet. This is one of my favorite-ever manga, and it fills me with an articulate rage composed of equal parts longing and frustration. The premise has permanent residence in my id, and it's a brilliant framework for examining communication and intimacy: restructuring relationships redefines how we engage with them. ...But it seems to forget that the problem that needs to resolved is how and that people communicate - rather than the configurations of the relationships themselves. The fantasy of a high-powered marriage with a pet "on the side" where the latter is the more intimate relationship is so much more engaging than the constant threat that the narrative will resolve its tensions in the most traditionally-structured monogamous relationships possible.

And still, I love it. Some arcs fall flat, but the slice-of-life structure is gently paced and offers space for complex characterization (Momo especially impressed me on this reread); the restrained, bittersweet tone takes a deeply iddy premise and treats it with respect; the art is pretty and consistent (including consistent issues with the lips).


Title: Kimetsu no Yaiba aka Demon Slayer
Author: Koyoharu Gotouge
Translator: John Werry and John Hurt
Published: Viz Media, 2018-2021 (2016-2020)
Rating: 3.5 of 5
Page Count: 4560 (197+192+199+192+197+205+215+199+199+200+192+199+199+199+199+192+192+192+192+192+192+192+232)
Total Page Count: 474,795
Text Number: 1654-1676
Read Because: recommended by Teja, ebooks borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: A demon murders our protagonist's family, leaving only one survivor: his little sister, freshly transformed into a demon herself. This a straightforward "boy finds martial arts community, grows in strength, gains and loses mentors, defeats the big bad" narrative but really quite charming: The art is consistent and bold, the character design delightful. Everyone gets a tragic backstory at pivotal moments. The protagonist is so achingly sincere that it blows through trite and comes out the other side. The pacing isn't perfect, but it's remarkably free of bloat. A solid read!

Not an especial favorite, though. For all the demonic character design and dismemberment and death, it never really feels dark - there's a weird hollowness in tone coming from how vaguely violence is drawn and the fact that our hero and his friends have plot armor while mentor figures are persistently tragic. I enjoyed reading this but, save for a few favorite characters, it doesn't really stick in my mind.

Yesterday (Sunday, the 18th) was my birthday! It was a lovely birthday! Easily the best that I can remember, with grace given for "bad memory" and for "I usually get so anxious about celebrating events Correctly that I spoil the celebration, lol." I had a quiet weekend with Devon. On Saturday night we watched John Wick (this borrowing movies from the library thing is neat):


John Wick, film, 2019, dir. Chad Stahelski
Devon compared this to a specific action scene (from some-or-another game or movie, I can't remember) except that it went on indefinitely—it's that iconic scene of scrappy competence porn, styled midway between slick and down-and-dirty, extended to feature-length. Being able to maintain that niche atmosphere is admirable and so satisfying, and I appreciate that the ( spoiler? ) is weirdly tasteful. Solid.


and Devon gave me my first birthday gift early: a new tablet, a Samsung Galaxy Tab S5e—he gave me a tablet a few years ago just to see if I'd benefit from having one, and it became my primary computing device; I use my PC for gaming and typing, but my tablet for daily internet browsing/IM clients/the background is an omnipresent force in my life but I don't generally want to sit at my computer. And it's starting to show its age, particularly re: mobile games (read: Pokemon Go). I'll still use both at least until I (finally) get a phone, because the new tablet is less ideal for niche use like "walking while listening to an audiobook." But it's so sleek and light and speedy.

Saturday night we walked down to the supermarket (in the dark! while it was cool out! we've had such a mild summer so far, but still fuck summer, fuck overstimulation and photophobia, the only correct time to leave the house is 10p) for waffle mix, and on my birthday we did a breakfast of veggie sausage, orange juice, and waffles with vanilla ice cream. We own so few items and really prefer it that way, so we kept putting off buying a "makes just one thing" kitchen item, but we have no regrets about the waffle maker. We'll get plenty of use out of it, even if it only makes waffles, and after such a long wait that warm, fresh, steamy crisp chewy waffle against rich, cold "like whipped cream, but better" vanilla ice cream was exquisite. I hate cake (too sweet, texture bad) and I'm convinced that secretly most people do, that we have a cultural expectation that birthday = cake and so we eat it every year and it's always mediocre; what we should do instead is something that probably lacks iconic associations but which is suited to our tastes and feels like a sincere celebration. It's a lot of opinions to have about cake.

Devon's work as infinite PTO (with reasonable boundaries of "they fire shitty employees"), so he scheduled this Thursday off and we're planning to go into PDX proper for a Powell's visit and some sort of lunch. I'd so much rather go into town on a weekday instead of a busy weekend, and I appreciate that his job makes that—and a lot else—possible. I have to sit down in the next few days and figure out what few print books I may actually want to buy.

(He also scheduled half days over the entirety of Hanukkah, so that he can be home by sundown.)

I've been both lonely and overstimulated/anxious lately (which I mentioned elsewhere) and my birthday could easily have been a trigger—that combination of "reflect on the year: surprise! the year sucked!" and "celebrate the good things in life, of which there are objectively many, especially with where you are in your home and relationship" and "make plans towards self-improvement and the future, the thought of which is 10% anticipation and 90% crippling, spiraling anxiety" and "feel obligated to celebrate with/be celebrated by other people" was a panic attack waiting to happen. So staying in and doing small but celebratory couple-things over the weekend, and planning a larger but stress-mitigated outing, was the best solution. My birthday weekend felt full, joyful, present—I stayed in the moment and didn't spiral into horror at the passage of time.

I still can't remember how old I turned ... 34? I caved and did the math: 34. I shall now proceed to jettison that information and act like a clumsy identity thief every time I need to fill out personal information for the next year.

Because 2018 was a real bad year, and because I'm lazy, I didn't keep any log of what I watched; but as consider writing my best of 2018 list, it occurs to me that it would be useful to know what I watched. This is recreated from my Tumblr and Netflix logs and (ahaha) ""memory.""" It's in only the barest chronological order and doesn't particularly resemble the capsule reviews I usually write for my watch logs, but it's better than nothing.

Star Trek: Deep Space 9, television, 1993-1999
A rewatch, and technically started last year, but this was a huge chunk of my watching and inarguably the most important thing I watched this year. It holds up phenomenally well. I did some liveblogging of this which I'll crosspost later, but: the best if a good franchise, easily; very important to me; difficult and healing to watch while coping with my dad's illness.

Coco, film, 2017
This is vibrant and diverse; and I hate the romanticization of street dogs and the "unconditionally forgive your abuse family members & then they'll reveal they've changed their ways" message. Does one outweigh another? I'm not sure.

Altered Carbon s1, television, 2018
100% there for the aesthetic alone. Unconvinced that the rest, the writing, the representation, is good. But it's indulgent AF cyberpunk.

The Good Place s1-2, television, 2016-2018
This is consistently superb: the pacing, the writing, the casting, the humor (and I hate humor!). It sincerely surprised me, in productive ways. It's one of those rare shows that gives me nothing to criticize. The only reason we haven't watched any of s3 is because I never watch things while they're airing.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherood up to about episode 30?, anime, 2009
Perhaps I'm insufficiently versed, but this doesn't feel distinctly, obviously better than the old FMA anime; still enjoying it, and appreciate the whiplashy balance of humor to sudden grimness. Only paused this because it's hard for me to watch a lot of subs.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2., film, 2017
Those playing along at home may remember that I've largely given up on Marvel universe on account of "not my thing." By all rights, this should be likewise. But Lindsay Ellis spoke on it convincingly enough that I made an exception, and I don't regret it. The throughline here of abuse and found families is sincerely well rendered—who knew! Hasn't really changed my mind re: Marvel, tho.

Some of Lost in Space, television, 2018
Enough to realize it was boring, and then an unfortunate little bit more.

Beauty and The Beast, film, 2017
Boring, bad CG, added nothing of value; but watchable I guess.

Dark s1, television, 2018
This has a phenomenal aesthetic and sense of place and set of images; the plot is profoundly tedious and I take issue with false rape accusation as narrative device. I was unsure after finishing if I'd watch s2, but with a few months of distance I am even less tempted.

Voltron: Legendary Defender s5-7, television, 2018
(We will probably have watched s8 by the end of the year.) I consistently enjoy this for its vivid science fantasy world and engaging character dynamics. It has too much filler, but the overall balance of humor to grim character growth is successful. Bury your gays was an obvious misstep which goes against everything this series has been aiming for in its casting; again, how does it balance? I'm not sure. But this remains popcorn watching & the only for-kids thing I've enjoyed lately.

Wynonna Earp s1-2, television, 2016-2017
A welcome mirror-twin to Supernatural; better representation, great camp, pretty, oh so pretty, pretty, and only as witty as a show of its type, but absolutely gay. Tumblr tags: #it's trash but no moreso than other shows of its kind; the special effects are ridiculous b/c SyFy #but it's the purest example of that 'indeterminate midwestern metrosexual redneck' aesthetic that I've found #everything is so overdesigned but in a grungy way! Bobo Del Ray's character design is a gift! the landscape is golden and long #and there's an abandoned homestead & dead trees in the background & and when in doubt: decorate with skulls #like a southern gothic playlist with those same 15 (beloved) songs come to life & coincidentally that's also the soundtrack #I want to LIVE THERE

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, television, 2018
I love how this is filmed, how stupidly excessive is its aesthetic. The writing is pretty trash, and these made-for-Netflix shows have got to figure out that the chance to make actually-hour-long episodes means that each episode should be more beefy. Shrug. Will continue to watch in the attempt to project myself into the sets.

Black Mirror s4, television, 2017
Never again will we have the San Junipero time. This season was trash, most seasons are trash for the same reason—obvious and/or reactive social commentary couched in slick but inconsistent styling. It did however prompt:

( Some thoughts on intrusive thoughts in speculative and dystopic settings. )

The Ritual, film, 2017
Good setting, good monster design, meh narrative, and the last outweighs. ( Longer thoughts via tumblr. )

The Witch, film, 2015
The longer this sat with me, the more I liked it. The gritty tedium of the setting makes for a slow pace, but it's one of those films where the ending creeps up, builds up, and then revitalizes all the came before. Beautiful, too; well cast.

ETA: Over the Garden Wall, television, 2014
I don't think I loved this as much as most people do—it was still a little too slight, too funny for me—but what a phenomenal aesthetic and atmosphere; what a great thing to finally watch at exactly the Halloween times.

Killing Eve s1, television, 2018
I enjoyed the hell out of this. It doesn't have the same angle of indulgence as Hannibal, but 1) ladies and 2) the beats of humor/violence (as opposed to aesthetic/violence) add to the conversation, bring new things. Sandra Oh is phenomenal. A good show, will continue watching.

Some of Supernatural s13, television, 2017-2018
"Some of" being a sign that this season hasn't especially captured me, moreso even than the usual baseline of trash TV. I will finish it/the entire show eventually, now that we know it's ending.

Great British Bake Off, television
We watched & (for me) rewatched everything they have on Netflix. The Channel 4 switch suffers hugely, but the bad version of the best and perhaps only good reality show is still strong, and nothing equals this, nothing else is as perfectly soothing. I had a really shitty year and this helped me escape some of that, for which I'm grateful.

Skins Wars s1-3, television, 2014-2016
We watched this to try to fill a GBBO-shaped void, with minimal success. People making things good; American/reality TV bad. The competitive angle steals too much screentime from watching art being made. What really gets me is the financial angle, the "watching people be desperate for money as a form of entertainment" aspect; it's gross and disheartening and, after GBBO? gross and disheartening is the opposite of what I want.

Star Trek: Discovery, television, 2017-2018
I've been trying to fight the knee-jerk reaction of "change is bad" and "old things are better" (although Trek for me isn't just nostalgia—I rewatched them all [except Enterprise] within the last 5 years), and this certainly is watchable, but I'm unconvinced that it's good. Really strong cast; middling writing; weak aesthetic (so blue! the camera doesn't like it, my eyes don't like, it makes the universe so samey). & I feel like the desire to create a stronger, darker overarching story is not new to the Trek universe—is in fact DS9, and they should take pointers from it re: how to pace episodic and overarching. Also the Klingons are very bad. I dig that they speak in Klingon, but it's so slow & phonetic as to be glaring, and, again: work to bring depth to this race has been done! they should build on it, not undermine it! Discovery is fine and I don't regret that it exists, but it's not good, and I want good.

Doctor Strange film, 2016, dir. Scott Derrickson
A strange mish-mash, and there's little distinction between the bits I loved and the bits I didn't care about. I like the resolution (it was spoiled by a friend, and the reason I watched)—I've never seen time travel/narrative looping played quite that way, and it was clever. The mirror universe and unfolding, kaleidoscopic visual effects are phenomal—Inception didn't look this cool; it's such a finely rendered, dense, evocative aesthetic, and I could watch it all day. But the magic (as ... sparks, I guess?) effects are uninspired, and: the acting! the character arcs! the sense that no one in the film want so be there or is taking it seriously, including Swinton, whose presence was already unjustified but who I at least expected to live it up (as she has elsewhere, see: Constantine). I find Marvel boring, and this Marvel is no exception (and the humor's awful), but the bits I like, I sincerely love. Bless that we have the technology for effects like this now, for worlds folding and unfolding, for dense particle physics and shattered glass.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier, film, 2014, dir. Joe Russo, Anthony Russo
I watched this for Bucky and I remain true to type: I loved him—the only Marvel character I've ever much loved, and for no especial reason but that dark, tortured, mask-wearing, augmented and/or disabled, brainwashed but the face of the one he loves can save him are tried and true trash tropes for me. But, honestly, this is one of the more successful Marvel movies I've encountered, thanks to its smaller, interpersonal focus. I guess there was a larger plot, and I hate the use of Hydra as a Nazi metaphor that manages to wildly miss the point, and the pacing and resolutions were predictable, and there's still not two women to run together (in other words: a Marvel movie); but the characters sold me and it has emotional payoff, which is what I've retained.

Captain America: Civil War, film, 2016, dir. Joe Russo, Anthony Russo
This, meanwhile, was vaguely embarrassing. Civil wars in comics are gratuitous by nature, and this is no exception. It makes effort to avoid "bad communication = plot," only to settle for "bad self-control = plot," which isn't much better. The cameos are corny and reference characters/films that I don't care about (Spiderman was the adorable exception, and felt comfortable within the campy tone; I also liked the introduction of Black Panther). That said, the larger cast does means there's room for more than one entire lady! how novel. It also creates short, sweet, relatively successful character scenes within the supporting cast. So: a hot mess, but occasionally cute.

Ajin: Demi-Human, s1-2, 2015-2016
I love love love Polygon Pictures, and 3DCG is such a good fit here: it allows for dynamic human animation and microexpressions, which are particularly productive in developing the protagonist's character, and the ajin are fluid and intricate and disconcerting. This series is a slow-paced action-thriller; lots of big fights, surprisingly gradual plot progression—layered against psychological themes that almost-no-quite insist on being understated because they get overshadowed by the momentum of the action. That makes it weird to reflect on (not much happened, I guess? lots of interesting characters got almost no screentime?) but engaging to watch. Mostly, I wish Polygon would animate everything; I know some people have a hard time adjusting to 3D animation but the payoff is intense.

Blame!, film, 2017, dir. Hiroyuki Seshita
This was ridiculously good. I'm absolutely biased: I love generation ships, love this aesthetic—like futuristic Dark Souls, everything vast and inhuman and inhospitable—and love the themes, the devolution of society and society's stubborn, changing persistence. I haven't seen a generation ship narrative quite like this, where the ship's breakdown isn't human-triggered, via forgotten history or social divide, but ship-triggered, and it makes the ship feel larger and refreshes the trope. (I also love to think of this as canonical entertainment within Knights of Sidonia, another generation ship setting—it localizes/contextualizes both narratives.) The art design is great, the monsters are great, the action is great; as above, I want Polygon Pictures to animate everything, but they're an especially good fit for something that would need a lot of CG effects regardless, and it further allows intricate character and design details. The pacing is superb, the length just right, the frame narrative effective. I was just hugely impressed by this, in every moment, and already want to rewatch it.

(You don't need to be familiar with Knights of Sidonia to watch Blame!, so you should watch it, and talk to me about it.)

Please help me, I am forever so behind on these, & what I do not record I will forget forever.


Time of Eve, anime, 2010
This has an ideal runtime and microformat. The individual vignettes aren't particularly in-depth exploration of speculative concepts/worldbuilding/the laws of robotics; they're equally fueled by pathos and the human condition, so the short episode length gives room to develop those things without allowing them to grow maudlin—a good emotional balance. The effect is cumulative—not especially cleverly so, it's pretty straightforward "interwoven ensemble with overarching character growth," but it's satisfying. I wish this pushed its speculative/robotics elements further, but, frankly, I'm satisfied with the whole thing, it's engaging and evocative and sweet and I sure do like androids.

( Some long Time of Eve thoughts, crossposted from Tumblr. )

A Series of Unfortunate Events, season 1, 2017
I'm surprised to find I enjoyed this more than the book series—and I didn't love the books, but didn't expect them to improve upon adaptation. The weakness of the books is how much depends on the meta-narrative and how little of that there actually is; rewriting it with a better idea of what that narrative will be, and with more outside PoVs, makes it more substantial and creates a better overarching flow. The humor is great, the set design is great, it feels faithful without merely reiterating, a condensed "best of" the atmosphere and themes; a sincere and pleasant surprise. I'm only sad that the second season isn't out yet, because the Quagmire Triplets were always my favorites.

The Great British Bake Off, series 6, 2015
They finally got rid of the awful, belabored pause before weekly reveals! That was the only thing I ever hated about this series, and I'm glad to see it go. This is a weird season: weekly performances are irregular and inconsistent and vaguely underwhelming; the finale is superb. It makes me feel validated in my doubts re: whether the challenges and judging metrics actually reflect the contestants's skills, but whatever: it has solid payoff and this is as charming and pure as ever. What a delightful show.

Arrival, film, 2016, dir. Denis Villeneuve
50% "gosh, the alien/language concept design is good"; 50% "I really just want to read the short story" (so I immediately put the collection on hold). Short fiction adapts so well to film length that it makes me wonder why we insist on adapting novels: the pacing is just right, the speculative and plot elements are just deep enough to thoroughly explore, there's no feeling of being rushed or abridged or shallow. What makes this worthwhile as a film is some of the imagery, alien design (the language really is fantastic), and viewer preconceptions re: flashbacks as narrative device; it's awfully white and straight and boring as a romance, though—underwhelming characters with no particular chemistry, although I like Amy Adams's pale restraint. If I sound critical, I'm not; I thought this was a satisfying as a 2-hour experience.

Interstellar, film, 2014, dir. Christopher Nolan
I have a lot of feelings, and most of them are terror: wormholes! black holes! water planet! time as a dimension! space, just as a thing in general!—I find all this terrifying, in a fascinated by authentically panicky way. The imagery and plot does a solid job of making these concepts comprehensible and still vast (save perhaps for the fourth+ dimension—the imagery there almost works, but it's so emotionally-laden and interpersonal as to, ironically, make it feel localized, small). But Blight-as-worldbuilding is shallow, and a lot of the human element is oppressive and obvious, which deadens things; I wish more of it were on the scale of Dr. Brand's love or the effects of relativity: private motivations for the characters, sincere and intense but with limited effect on the setting or plot. But as a speculative narrative, one within the realm of the plausible but intentionally alien, distant, and awe-inspiring, this is effectively the space version of the disaster porn in a disaster flick—space porn, is that a thing? It's captivating in a nightmareish way, which, I suppose, is exactly what I wanted.

Legend, complete series, 1995
One of Devon's childhood shows, which he got as a birthday present, so we watched it together. It's honestly not as awful as I expected. The frontier setting is less idealized or racist than it could be, but still has a great atmosphere; the character dynamics are hammy but sincerely endearing; the mystery plots are episodic but decently written. Not a new favorite, shows its age, and the mix of tone and science fantasy Western makes it understandably niche, but it exceeded expectations.

Person of Interest, entire series, 2011-2016
This reminds me a lot of Fringe: a crime serial with a speculative premise that becomes increasingly predominant; an imperfect found family, confronted with apocalypses of increasing scale. (See also: Buffy, X-Files—the negotiation between episodic and overarching in speculative television has been a long conversation.) I'm a sucker for this setup, and a bigger sucker for the themes at play, for artificial intelligences and human/machine intimacies; and the premise also opens the door to creative tropes and narrative techniques, to flashbacks and alternate realities, to structural inversions (like the functions of the numbers in 2.22 "God Mode"). It's sometimes inconsistent, sometimes too playful, sometimes repetitive in structure (especially the pacing of the action sequences), but I sincerely love it, both for its genre-mashing premise and for the characters (especially Root and Shaw).

For the Love of Spock, film, 2016, dir. Adam Nimoy
This is endearing. It touches on a lot of things, all with approximately equal depth—and while some topics summarize nicely in eight minutes, others feel cursory: giving the gay guy a few sentences to talk about slash fandom is particularly insufficient. But the balance between Leonard Nimoy's private life, his career, and the character of Spock is more successful. There's an earnestness here, a sympathy, an active humor; it hits all the right notes and it's what I wanted it to be: informative in a non-exhaustive but honest and consumable way, and, primarily, cathartic.

After the Dark, film, 2013, dir. John Huddles
A shaggy dog story by way of an iterated thought experiment, which is both its strength and failure. The unexpected narrative style briefly engages some interesting tropes, and the parallels between classroom and experiment, and between iterations, may not live up to all the philosophical name-dropping but are interesting. It helps that, despite the slick, implausible teen styling, the acting is passably strong. But there's no real sum to the various parts, and the tone vacillates and fizzles out at the end. This is engaging but not quite satisfying.

Star Trek: Deep Space 9, s6-7, 1997-1999
I actually picked this rewatch back up midway through s5, which is where I'd left off (a few years ago), but as near as memory serves s6-7 were entirely new to me. (Their airdates overlap my family's residence in the UK, which may explain it.) I decided to continue my DS9 journey now because I wanted something socially-aware but escapist, and this is Devon's favorite show to rewatch and so it seemed like a safe bet. I was wrong. It was exhausting. The Dominion war means that late s5 and s6 alternate between grim war episodes and comedy relief episodes, many of them independently successful, but creating an inconsistent overall experience. (Devon later told me that he skips a lot of s6 episodes when rewatching.) S7 has a new major character and a large multi-part ending which stretches some plotlines too long yet still manages manages to back-weight and rush the finale. But this is still far and above the most ambitious and successful Star Trek. I adore a lot of individual tropes (Trill symbionts and Bajoran religion, primarily) (but also Odo!), but it's the cumulative effect which is most impressive: the uncompromising exploration of the Bajoran Occupation, a Black captain, the stationary setting which demands a larger and more consistent plot, even Armin Shimerman's quest to salvage the Ferengi make for an overarching set of themes which aren't always successful but are frequently, intelligently, pointed in the right direction, more demanding and more thorough than many equivalent themes in other Star Trek series. This wasn't the comfort watch I was expecting, but I think I value it more for that.

Voltron: Legendary Defender, s2, 2017
This has much better pacing than the first season! It's more cohesive, less pointlessly episodic while still maintaining that structure, and has better foreshadowing and ramp up; the cliffhanger is less pasted on. The personal/interpersonal focus is shifted: the strife/teamwork between the paladins is less emphasized, even taken for granted; but the focus on Shiro and Keith is bigger and more integrated into the worldbuilding than anything else so far. I could nitpick—the animation isn't as smooth as s1, and the unlockable power-ups is a predictable trope; but that last is occasionally really effective (as with Shiro) and the overall effort is just such a pleasure. This may be less iconic than s1, but it feels like the show has really settled into itself.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, miniseries, 2015
I'm surprised by how much I liked this, and I expected to like it. The set and costume and makeup are all beautiful; the special effects are sometimes TV-quality but still so evocative. I'd forgotten how successful this narrative is, and/or I'm a better consumer (I was particularly stricken by the women—not an impression I had when I first read it) or I liked this more than the book or I simply need to reread the book; the way in which these characters gain exponential depth as they interact, escaping the limitations of their respective tropes, is particularly fulfilling. What a pleasure to watch.

Dark Matter, seasons 1-2, 2015-2016
Six strangers forced to work together is how found families are born, and this absolutely lives up to its tropes. The cast is made up of heavy-handed archetypes but I love lots of them—especially all the women of the core cast (the android's character growth is especially good.) But mutual distrust also creates a lot of miscommunication-as-plot, which is a trope I detest. I've now mentioned tropes four times, which is indicative: this is pulpy Syfy-channel material, with appropriate pacing, plotting, budget, and the ideal arena to engage tropes with gusto, which this does, and I love it for that.

They Look Like People, film, dir. Perry Blackshear, 2016
I'm not sure how to discuss this one without spoilers, so be ye warned. I found this unexpectedly effective as a horror film—it has a strong grasp of tension and pacing and the evocative unseen. But these are also things that freak me out, personally (face blindness is not-infrequently the experience of "have people been replaced by not-people that I'm supposed to assume look the same?" and "is this face correct? is this what faces look like?"), which biases my reaction. Some have lauded this for its human, empathetic depiction of mental illness; it is that, but I'm still not on board with eliding mental illness and speculative themes, and constantly linking mental illness and violent actions. I find myself of a mixed but ultimately positive opinion, and this certainly does a lot with tone and horror despite its tiny cast and budget.

The Girl in the Book, film, dir. Marya Cohn, 2015
A thorny, private, messy personal trauma given a cathartic, neat resolution—so it hits all the right notes and I understand the intent, but it still feels limited. I like the narrative structure, though, exploring the sequences of events in one timeline, their longterm impact in the other. But I can't help negatively comparing this to Blue Car, which was thematically similar but much more messy and bittersweet in resolution: equally important representation, but refusing to be so neat.

Twin Peaks, season 1-2, 1990-1991
Fire Walk with Me, film, dir. David Lynch, 1992
(Spoilers be ye warned, again.) I made multiple false starts on this show before seeing it to conclusion, which I feel is in some way indicative of my overall experience. There's so much to talk about! I'm underwhelmed by some of the iconic elements, the soap opera plotting, laborious pacing, and "quirky" townsfolk—but I love the effect of the ominous and surreal set against that mundanity. The plotting goes off the rails after Laura's arc, and the new romances are a horrible choice—but I love the increasingly prominent role of the Black Lodge. (What imagery!) But I take strong issue with the way that Lynch uses disability to indicate strangeness, in the townsfolk and surreal dreams and the Lodge. I loved Fire Walk with Me, because as much as I admire a successful narrative in absentia it's empowering to make Laura subject (rather than object) of the narrative and Sheryl Lee's portrayal is intimate and convincing. Twin Peaks and I had a rocky start, and I couldn't imagine rewatching it for fun, but I came away with strong opinions and a lot of love for the bits I loved (speech in the Lodge & the entrance to the Lodge; the characterization of Dale Cooper and Audrey Horne in the first arc, and the relationship between them) and love, also, for for its ... intent and iconic cultural effect, I suppose, more than the actual product.


On Tumblr: Dale Cooper vs. Professor Layton; David Lynch uncritically presenting the Other aas weird. Crossposted below, for posterity.


( Dale Cooper vs. Professor Layton )


( David Lynch uncritically presenting the Other as weird )

Stonehearst Asylum/Eliza Graves, film, 2014, dir. Brad Anderson
There's so much going on here, all of it about halfways successful. The movie can never decide if it's horror, romance, satire, or just an excuse for Gothic extravagance, so is all of those things without total success—it has a fantastic aesthetic, but the tone often contradicts itself. But I'm surprised how watchable this is as an asylum movie—it's a narrative that makes me nervous, but the "inmates take over the aslyum" premise means that representations of institutionalized violence are limited in scope and cast as overtly problematic; that said, the implied farce of the inmates in control is its own microaggression; that said, the narrative affords them a surprising amountof respect, despite the occasional condescension. Eliza is well developed, and her gendered condition treated with the respect—which the obligatory romance and "cure" undermine. It's complicated! The plot's fine, the aesthetic is great, the tone is inconsistent—but it's the themes at play which I find myself remembering.

The Silenced (Gyeongseong School: Disappeared Girls), film, 2015, dir. Lee Hae-young
This makes a tonal shift in the second half, from gothic mystery to action thriller; I appreciate the first half more, but to my surprise the shift didn't lose me—largely because the writing remains solid, no dumb twists, just foreshadowing carried through. This is visually superb, so beautiful with such luscious imagery; I love the themes, the female intimacies (this movie has one (1) male character, bless), and the exploration of sick bodies, revenge/cure fantasies, and the social manipulation of women. This is a quiet gem, and I want more people to watch it.

Tumblr posts: visuals; women and illness narratives, this last copied below for safekeeping.

( Read more... )

Penny Dreadful, complete series, 2014-2016
I am so conflicted! This is an aesthetic treat, and the way it engages gothic genre and penny dreadful reiteration of urban fables is compelling; there's some solid casting and the dialog is fantastic—and Eva Green steals the show with the depth of her affect and the way she epitomizes the show's aesthetic. But the plotting goes south midway through season 2, growing messier and more predictable (especially in character deaths and villain motivations, see: killing minority groups, vilifying female power), and the end—both the focus on Ethan in s3, and Vanessa's death—are especially flat. There's fantastic tropes at play here (especially the found family dynamic) and some truly phenomenal episodes (especially the flashbacks); I'm surprised how effectively and respectfully it elides trauma, mental illness, and speculative elements. But it comes out to be a bit of a mess, and not inevitability: the overarching plotting could've been better.

Supernatural, season 11, 2015-2016
The big bad of this season wildly overreaches while managing to remain entirely predictable—I don't know how the show could ever have pulled off a big-G God arc, and it shouldn't have tried; Amara's character arc is simplistic and her imagery underwhelming. Yet, somehow, this season has some of my favorite stand-alones, chief among them 11.4 "Baby," a Impala PoV about the daily grind of hunting which is everything I love of this show; I also adored the return of Lucifer, and Misha Collin's acting; and Enemy Mine of the last few episodes; and developments in the Sam/Dean dynamic. Supernatural is always inconsistent, but this was an unusual inconsistency: the small and personal parts of this work beautifully while the overarching plot spirals, forgotten, into the sun.

These are many months belated, and I am ashamed—but better late and incomplete than nothing, because what I don't record I'll forget I watched and never be able to recommend. The takeaways from this batch were: Ravenous, a cult movie that I'm surprised I hadn't encountered before because it is such fun—it feels like it should have overlap with the Saints Row and Repo! "not quite a fandom because it's so small, but there's so many feels in this intense aesthetic and bombastic themes" crowd; Weekend, which has some 201 conversations especially re: gay marriage and a lot of justified anger and convincing intimacy; The Falling, which—I remember watching Heavenly Creatures for the first time and being blindsided by the intimacy and aesthetic and the complex but identifiable themes, and Heavenly Creatures has been for me like The Secret History, a narrative so distinct and compelling that I revisit it frequently while constantly looking for something that satisfies the same hitherto unknown but now ever-present narrative desire—and The Falling does that.


Ravenous, film, 1999, dir. Antonia Bird
The gayest film about cannibalism not based on Hannibal. The humor can be overbearing, but it creates a surreal, overwrought tone which absolutely works. The pacing is strong, and while the second half is fairly predictable the content and character dynamic are so good—I love these themes, bodily intimacy and the taboo and power dynamics and coercion and cannibalism and homosexual overtones, and Ravenous fulfills them with bombast and dark humor and great imagery.

( Tumblr crosspost of Ravenous feels. )

Tomorrow, When the War Began, film, 2010, dir. Stuart Beattie
An unquestionable waste of time. Everything is horrible, from the stock characters (and improbable overage casting) to the telegraphed relationships to the oppressive action sequences and soundtrack to the petty stupidity which fuels much of the plot. And that's to say nothing of the xenophobia and racism! This is awful, and I should have stopped watching at the midway point when I realized as much. (Great title, though.)

The Road Within, film, 2016, dir. Gren Wells
The acting is consistently good, the relationships work overall, and there some empathetic depictions of frustration without tipping the film into the territory of dour. But it's all too predictable, easy, even saccharine. I'm glad to see narratives about mental illness, and so would rather this than nothing, this doesn't contribute much to the conversation. Still, a watchable 90 minutes.

Weekend, film, 2011, dir. Andrew Haigh
A very close, somewhat rambling character study. There's not much movement or plot to speak of, and it manages to hit a dozen predictable gay story touchstones (coming out, gay marriage, infidelity) and indie movie clichés, but it's utterly convincing and often compelling: a lived, diverse experience, an intimate conversation with a stranger, exponentially more complex than many similar narratives—and the mumbled impromptu dialog never goes too far off the rails. I didn't always enjoy this, but it's unquestionably strong.

The Hallow, film, 2015, dir. Corin Hardy
Supremely mediocre. There's such potential in the imagery and setting, and I admire the unexpected lack of subtlety with the speculative elements, but the horror has extraordinarily predictable timing which makes the pacing feel manipulative and hollow (no pun intended). It leaves no lasting impression, and also fails to have any personal or metaphorical depth: characters barely exist and next to nothing is said about the changing social role of the fairies, despite the deforestation premise. An uninspired work with some great imagery.

Uncanny, film, 2015, dir. Matthew Leutwyler
The first half is promising, the second half a disappointment—because the narrative hinges on a plot twist which manages to be predictable without having any convincing foreshadowing or build-up, which undermines the otherwise interesting premise and destroys almost all character development. There's icky gender/rape issues at play here, too, and the final twist/sequel bait is laughably awful. I love android narratives but still wish I hadn't bothered: skip it.

The Falling, film, 2014, dir. Carol Morley
There's little plot to speak of here, and much of it is buried under the intense school girl/English countryside/coming of age/sexual awakening/psychosomatic illness/mental illness in (young) women/intimate relationships/lesbian/incest aesthetic—and I don't care, because every one of those descriptors is phenomenal and this film fulfills them. The ending is too neat, undermining a lot of early work done to explore the inextricable relationship between the socialization of young women, concepts of illness, and proscribed/natural/enforced behavior. But all the rest is pretty fantastic. This reminded me a lot of Heavenly Creatures and Cracks.

I recently completed The Great Star Trek: TOS first viewing; I grew up on TNG and Voyager and DS9, but had never watched TOS until just now. As I watched, I read along with Eugene Myers and Torie Atkinson's re-watch, here on Tor.com, with the third season on The Viewscreen. Torie's analyses I found particularly relevant, both because she came it from the same position as me (familiar with most of Star Trek, but not with TOS), but particularly because of how she examines and confronts Roddenberry's attempts, successes, and failures in exploring and representing equality.

Star Trek: The Original Series, complete series, 1966-69
This exceeded my expectations. It's not as forward-thinking as Roddenberry's vision demanded, which I don't think the time period excuses, given Roddenberry's intent. But the intent is so good, and more than occasionally effective; the underlying sense of wonder is inspiring, the cast and the inter-character dynamics are phenomenal, and Spock—Spock I adore, and I now understand how much Nimoy brought to the show and character. The number of authentically enjoyable episodes balances the amount of formulaic or ridiculous drivel, and while the third season lags it only feels like a preponderance of the bad elements that were there throughout—although most of the series clichés, especially Kirk's womanizing and the lady of the week, seem to come from this season rather than the show entire. I regret that the show prioritizes the return to status quo, but it was inevitable consequence of the genre's development. In sum: not near corny as I expected it to be; dated, flawed, certainly, but authentically enjoyable. I agree with Torie Atkinson's thoughts in the Star Trek Re-watch: Season 1 Wrap-Up: the sincerity and unidealized optimism is surprisingly effective.

Star Trek: The Motion Picture, film, 1979, dir. Robert Wise
I can appreciate this for what it is: an homage, love letter, and the celebration of an effects budget. The same things which are wearisome—namely, the long, slow shots of the ship and other special effects—are in some ways the most endearing: it's almost fanservice, the frank admiration of some of the most beloved bits of TOS. Pity about the recycled plot, and putting the band back together stymies character progression (although Spock, as always, is strong). TMP isn't great as a movie, but I appreciate it as a revival.

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, film, 1982, dir. Nicholas Meyer
Not much I can say that hasn't been said. Khan's characterization feels flat—I wanted something more than the definitive obsession with Kirk. The rest of the cast fairs far better, with solid characterization and character progression; I adore Spock in the captain's seat, and the intercast dynamics are fantastic. This successfully translates the feel of the show into movie format: similar ethos, movie-appropriate pacing, and a satisfying number of subplots; the end is strong. But I fail to find it as memorable as TMP—perhaps because it's simply more traditional and successful a film.

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, film, 1984, dir. Leonard Nimoy
Another one that I enjoyed, despite general consensus. I love successful narratives-in-absentia, and so respond well to a story that orbits an absent character. And how lovely, to see McCoy given more complexity. This is a smaller, more private story; melancholy, personal, heartsick; the destruction of the Enterprise contributes significantly to this tone. I hate back from the dead plotlines in principle, and I didn't care one whit about the B-plot or the villain; the film certainly has flaws. But the small parts of it which work well I treasure.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, film, 1986, dir. Leonard Nimoy
A humorous installment is well-timed and surprisingly effective, and—other than the ridiculous premise—this has great pacing and strong character moments. TVH absolutely tips towards embarrassment squick, but it never oversteps, thank goodness. It's charming and silly, the cast has just enough substance, and it's utterly engaging to watch—but not, ultimately, particularly memorable or complex.

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, film, 1989, dir. William Shatner
I could have done without. There's some well-intended elements—namely, to give glimpses into the backstory and private lives of the crew—but they're ineffective; meanwhile, the humor is cringe-inducing and while the plot echoes some reoccurring series themes, it does a poor job of it and the fake god is particularly clumsy. I wish it had gone in a different direction—I would have loved to better explore the experience of a Vulcan with emotions.

Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, film, 1991, dir. Nicholas Meyer
This is such a rewarding endnote. The murder-mystery plot isn't flawless (the courtroom scene is frustrating, despite the appearance of Michael Dorn; the clue-search aboard the ship tends toward silly), but the balance of the plot's momentum and the depth of the metaphor is almost flawless. I love to see Kirk confronted, to see him proven wrong and forced to change; I love a bit less Spock's flaws, but the Kirk/Spock/McCoy dynamic in this film is some of my favorite in the series entire. This may be the most enjoyable and watchable of the films—and final voice-over and the signatures on the stars was the most perfect of all possible conclusions. (Reader, I cried.)

This is the final cruise of the Starship Enterprise under my command. This ship and her history will shortly become the care of another crew. To them and their posterity will we commit our future. They will continue the voyages we have begun, and journey to all the undiscovered countries, boldly going where no man ... where no one has gone before.

Bonus, crossposted from Tumblr: ( In defense of 3.20 The Way to Eden )