I saw Slotherhouse this week, and I really loved it! It’s such a great movie! From the trailer, you can tell they’re looking to ham it up hard, and they deliver. They do such a great job of starting from a ridiculous place and upping the ante with every beat. The characters come through strong and have clear emotional arcs. The issues they deal with are significantly more grounded than the killer sloth coming for them, which really enhances the sloth’s impact. There are so many great bits throughout. I also really liked the visual effects for social media. They’re not groundbreaking, but I also still see a lot more shots of phone screens in movies than I think I should these days; we know the better way. They still have some of those here, and they’re used for specific impact, to ground you in the character’s perspective; it’s deliberate, not ignorant. More of what I liked about the social media effects was how they were used as character introduction inserts, a thing you don’t see much of in movies and that I think is neat; it allows you to introduce elements to side characters that you don’t have time to waste talking about in the story. So yeah, it’s a great movie that you should go see. Support small cinema!
Also, before I get into the main topic, I forgot to share a thought last week. Reading End of the Megafauna gave me an idea for a truly terrible pickup line that I love: Wow, baby! Unlike the megafaunal extinctions at the end of the Pleistocene, you’re going to cause a lot of little deaths! Get it? Petite mort?
Anyway, this week, I will start off talking about the first episode of the live action One Piece and see where the page takes me. I’ve only seen the first episode as of this writing, and since I have a lot of books to read and a comic I’m working on, idk exactly when I’ll finish the season. I liked what I saw. I think they have a good grasp on the characters and landed on a good aesthetic for the show. The way they weaved together different elements of the story to reframe the known facts from the early chapters shows that they’re looking at the big picture. Looking ahead to Ace, it really seems likely and kinda poetic that the navy would have Garp, the hero from the same East Blue as Roger, execute Roger; I like the idea that Zolo was in Shells Town to turn in Mr. 7; Captain Morgan bragging about taking down Kuro is a good highlight for his false “greatness.” I liked the action well enough, so we’ll see how that holds up as the fights get bigger and bigger. I checked to see the episode count, so I can say it’s good they’re spending the whole season in the East Blue. If they’re smart, that should be enough time for a show. As of this moment, I’m looking forward to the rest of it.
Of course, I’m not saying it was a perfect first episode. The main issue I have with it is that they did too much right off the bat. Trying to set up the world, do both Luffy’s first meeting with Koby and taking down Morgan, and introducing three crew members all at once? I get that this is a Netflix show, which will never have a true full-length season, but there is material they could have saved for the next episode. For as much as I hate to say it, they should have held off on introducing Nami until they went to meet Buggy. By introducing three crew members at once, they took focus away from the core of the conflict with Morgan. Koby pointed out that the marines in the bar attacked a citizen, but we don’t really dwell on that or what it means, why Morgan and his men are like that; it’s a bit that could easily have been forgotten had Koby not said anything. The episode would have been stronger had they spent time exploring the arrogance and greed of Morgan, and showing how the town reacts to his defeat. Luffy could have gone to Shells Town looking for food and a new boat, and then Buggy could have the map Nami is after, and we meet her in episode two. We can spend more time with Koby and Morgan, as the viewpoint on the Navy and the inherent corrupting power of authority that Luffy fights the whole series, and then spend more time on the A plot of Luffy bonding with Zolo. I do think we should have spent more time with Koby, mostly so we could see him standing up for himself in a big, public way; if we’re really in this for the long run, we need that. Nami doesn’t do enough in this episode to justify her role, whereas she can and should do a lot more with Buggy the Clown, which would make a stronger intro for her. Ordinarily, I’d never say “skip the woman” in such a male-dominated story, it’s just that the balance of characters and story beats they chose favor holding off on her until episode two.
The flashback to Luffy’s childhood wasn’t as strong as it should be. Part of that is that it’s a flashback we’re only getting pieces from, but that’s actually not my main issue; telling that story that way has merit. My issue is that we don’t even name Makino. Her perspective and presence in that story is really important in opening up the topic of what really “makes a man,” and in general there’s a lot of value in seeing Luffy interact with his mother figure. If we’re doing this as a flashback that we don’t see all of right away, then we only really needed to see Luffy stab his eye, and then get it sewn up. In that second scene, we see him talk to both Shanks and Makino. Otherwise, they should have stuck with the full story as the opening episode, with the cliffhanger of Luffy about to die at sea.
Other than that, no real issues. They’re making their choices, and they’re respectable and pay off well enough as an opening. Because I only read the manga, I’m annoyed that they’re calling him “Zoro” and they named it “Loguetown.” I’d enjoy it if Shanks and Ben Beckman were hot, but I also realize that’s not a real complaint; I’m sure they have a vision for those characters and cast good actors for the roles. I like that Garp is vaguely Scottish, but I do wonder how his character will turn out. Looking at the episode list, it seems like he’s going to be chasing Luffy the whole first season, with a confrontation at the end. That’s a solid idea, and I get it, but also Garp is a silly person, so I hope he’s not all serious all the time. I wrote a whole other thing about adaptations when I watched Cowboy Bebop, so I won’t ramble on about those ideas here; suffice it to say, they seem to be doing what a good adaptation should do, and I’ll say more on if they did a good job for when I’ve seen all of it. I never expected this to be exactly like the manga, and I’m glad it isn’t.
As is typical of me, I haven’t been seeking out reactions on social media. I don’t want outside opinions influencing me as I watch something, and especially with a project like this, I expect there to be a ton of haters who were waiting for their chance to crap all over this show no matter how it turned out. That said, Facebook figured out that I like One Piece a long time ago, so they suggested to me a Polygon article saying the show is “just content.” And I really hate the word “““content.””” The term’s origin comes from capitalist vultures who ran websites and didn’t care what was on them; they just needed “““content””” for their sites. And true to form, there is a lot of terrible, vapid writing and media on the internet. I’d even agree that Netflix is a poster child for pumping out empty shells of shows and movies that could have been just to say their library is getting bigger. There is an attack on our collective ability to communicate and develop healthy opinions, and it directly connects to corporate media pumping out waste of time shows, movies, and writing because they don’t care about art.
At the same time, though, I think people use the word “““content””” as an insult to any show or movie they dislike, as a way of dismissing it as valid art so that they don’t actually have to engage with it and instead can take the easy route of attacking it in a slightly more articulate way than a schoolyard bully hitting the nerd for liking nerd crap. I’m fine reading articles explaining the weaknesses of this show, and that conclude it turned out badly – at least, once I finish it, because I won’t suffer spoilers – but that’s not what I expect to get when someone writes an article decrying a manga adaptation as the latest sign about the death of our culture. Is it possible this is part of a larger pattern of corporate media pumping out schlock and choking out space for more substantive stories? I doubt it right now, but sure, it’s possible. Does it help to use every new show as your clarion call about the death of all art, which you write once a week mostly to get clicks? No. The show just came out; give it an honest review, without resorting to name-calling.
I also think there’s a moral dimension to the term “““content””” that I dislike. I’m annoyed that every conversation about a popular new show or movie is about whether or not it’s good for us as a people. It’s barely any steps removed, if at all, from the days of saying audiences mindlessly become whatever they watch or read. Judging a show on whether or not you think it’s “““content””” and thus “good or bad” for us is putting things at such a low bar. Just like you shouldn’t say a movie is saving us from the culture wars because they cast a few more minority actors than normal, you also shouldn’t say a show is dooming us all to irreparable artistic death because you don’t think it had a competent metaphor. Netflix can keep making however many terrible projects they want (once they agree to pay actors and writers what they’re worth), it won’t stop us from recognizing what’s good or bad entertainment, what’s meaningful or vapid art. We aren’t becoming worse as people because of it, and the studios aren’t attacking us by putting it out. Depriving us of a better use of our time, for sure, but let’s not get overblown. Framing your opinion about a show as a moral stance is both a way to elevate your opinion to a level of sanctity that invites heated conflict with no gain and a way to spend all your energy attacking and demonizing things you dislike uncritically. Why didn’t you like it? What was lacking? What opportunity did they miss? What thing was the author doing by making that choice? If you like that choice, why didn’t they succeed; if you didn’t like that choice, why not? You can tell when a show isn’t really making choices and is just bad, and when a show is making choices and doesn’t deliver; disappointing is worse than bad, and you should be able to tell the difference, and learn which one to let go. You’re also damaging the culture by avoiding these steps and devolving fandom into identity-upholding grudge matches over whether or not a show turned out good.
Because that’s where it really gets ugly. When you downplay movies and shows you dislike as “““content,””” you are also attacking other people’s experiences. If something is really just “““content,””” then it, by accepted connotation, can’t have artistic, cultural, or personal meaning. By reducing media in that way, you’re inherently attacking the artistic, cultural, and personal meaning that others experienced with that media. Like, I think it’s fair to say that the live action Disney remakes of their famous cartoons are a soulless cash grab meant to extend copyright, earn easy goodwill, and finagle a way to not pay the original writers and creators of those movies their royalties. At the same time, I totally understand and appreciate what it means for people to see Halle Bailey as Ariel. Disney made that casting decision to cover up what they’re really doing here, but that doesn’t stop a Black Little Mermaid from having real, tangible impact. Capitalists are often very good at giving us a taste of the actual thing we want as the cover or entry point for a larger lie to keep us down. It’s a lot more important and meaningful to talk about that than it is to simply write off the new Little Mermaid movie as “““content.”””
So no, I wouldn’t call this new Once Piece show “““content””” at the moment, or even if it does turn out badly. I wouldn’t use the word to describe any show or movie that fits the accepted, derogatory definition. If you want to show the studios that we’re capable, as an audience, of digesting more meaningful work in an attempt to convince them to make more of it, then show them you’re capable of dismantling how and why the crap they make is crap. I get that it feels useless to try, because the studios think all views are created equal, but you owe it to yourself and to everyone else who saw what you saw. When I see something bad, I’m not looking for someone to be petty and tell me it lacks all personal and artistic meaning; I’m looking for someone to explain why it’s bad so I can see someone articulate issues and feelings I have with it, that I maybe can’t put into words yet. What else is the point of a review?
Weekly Thoughts 9/2/23
Life in the Gutters 