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Analysis

It’s time to make the call: Bubbline is canon

Kylie

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Not long ago I wrote about how I have no idea what to make of Adventure Timeif I should be annoyed or not. You see, my OTP “Bubbline,” that being Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum and Marceline Abadeer [the Vampire Queen…not that she seems to have subjects about whom she’s particularly concerned], *has* sailed. These two simply are together. That’s what I argued the episode “Broke His Crown” revealed, because I’m sorry, but even flirty friendos do not just casually clean up each other’s faces:

I mean, maybe I’ve just been flirting wrong?

Now, in the comment section, many of you tried to assure me that despite the trollish nature of that episode (“So, you got a boyfriend yet?!”), PB and Marcy are still in “slow-burn” mode; that this is all leading to some future payoff, and we really can look at everything we’re seeing as flirtation. And you know, a part of me actually believed that.

Then “The Music Hole” aired. I don’t know if it’s because I heard there was an episode where Marcy would sing a song and my mind assumed “oh here’s the romantic payoff” so my expectations were subverted; I don’t know if it’s because Cartoon Network has the wonkiest scheduling ever so it feels like Season 7 is basically over; I don’t know if it’s because this picked right up on the trollishness where “Broke His Crown” left off; whatever the reason, any optimism I might have had is gone. They are together, and it happened off-screen. I’m making the call: Bubbline is canon. It is done.

Well, to be fair, it actually happened on-screen, at the end of the “Stakes” mini-series:

“Varmints” showed PB coming to a place where she was ready to allow herself to expose her vulnerabilities and have Marcy back as a girlfriend, and then all of “Stakes” was about Marcy getting to the point where she was mature enough to handle that. The larger romantic beats of their relationship are entirely explicated and really leave almost no room for any sort of deniability (though just enough if you’re working as a Russian TV executive).

What I mean though, is that 100% incontrovertible proof that these two women are romantically involved happened off our screens, and I’m of the opinion it’s likely to stay that way. If I’m proven wrong, I will be the happiest person. But if I’m not, and that’s that for the season, then all we can do is move forward. And how I do that is through thorough, quasi-neurotic analyses.

So without further ado, I bring you Bubbline, The Analysis™.

We know from Marceline’s voice actor Olivia Olson that Bubblegum and Marcy had dated “in the past,” pre-canon. Yes, she did a take-backsies tweet the next day (which she took-backsied itself by deleting it), but I am more than inclined to believe this. I mean…“I’m just your problem” is pretty dang intense for a lost friendship, no?

Bubblegum’s voice actor meanwhile, Hynden Walch, said in a podcast (which I’m sorry, it seems like the original track was deleted):

“And what happened was that Bubblegum grew up, fast, because she had to rule over the Candy Kingdom. And as soon as she became a grownup, or even started acting like one, Marceline didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. So, therefore, Bubblegum has all these abandonment issues, and it’s also a reason why she won’t ever let anyone really get close to her ever again, because her first, and best friend left her. Isn’t that sad?”

That’s supes sad for sure, though “Varmints” sort of introduced some ambiguity there. That it wasn’t just Marcy peacing out, but that maybe PB pushed her away by burying herself in her work. Because she’s a Martell.

The comics, which as far as I know are canonical, support this as well. In Marceline Gone Adrift, we’re treated to PB recalling her past with Marcy, mostly because she’s a ball of guilt over everything that happened, then and now.

Peebs does her thing and dismisses this while talking about how when Marcy gets back, her new kingdom will basically be done. And then this happens:

This is…not platonic

“Varmints” sings a similar tune of PB having buried herself in work and sort of hiding behind it as a way to avoid emotionally honest conversations. Because she’s a mother-flippin’ Martell.

Bubblegum: “I didn’t always have to worry about so many things, you know? The Candy Kingdom used to be so small, so manageable. Then it kept growing and growing and there was always some new disaster to prepare against.”

Marceline: “Is that why you stopped talking to me?”

Bubblegum: “No! I—” [interruption]

Later in the episode, PB continues along this line of thought:

“I tried. I really, really tried. I just…I thought if I shut everything out and just focused on work, it would all be okay. All I managed to do was push everyone away. I pushed you away. I’m sorry Marceline. I’ve been a real dinger to you.”

So from this, we get the impression that while PB loved Marcy, Marcy was never more important than her job, and she eventually got squeezed out because PB never asked her to stay. I’m begging you; read Arianne’s sample chapters.

However, this does sit slightly in contention with what Ms. Walch said, as well as a couple of moments from “What Was Missing.” For instance, in the song Marcy sings, one of the lyrics is:

“I shouldn’t have to prove anything to you. I’m sorry that I exist, I forget what landed me on your blacklist. But I shouldn’t have to be the one that makes up with you.”

The “blacklist” concept is kind of confirmed in “Go With Me,” an episode that pre-dates “What Was Missing” (and thus pre-dates heavier Bubbline subtext), where PB says a very grudging and downright pissy “Hi Marceline,” while Marcy works overtime to pull a prank on her (and potentially sabotage Finn’s efforts to romance her). So you do get the feeling that it wasn’t just PB pushing Marcy away and the vampire being hurt as a result of that because PB actually did have a problem with her. The abandonment reasoning Walch cited makes a ton of sense here. It’s almost like they were both hurt or something.

Which the comics pretty much confirm too:

Add to this one last little exchange from “What Was Missing”:

Marceline: “Ha! Looks like you’re not as perfect as you thought. Guess you can’t judge me anymore.”

Bubblegum: “I never said you had to be perfect!

To me, the best sense of this I can make is fairly speculative, but I do think it’s reasonable. Because on one side we’ve got Marcy who’s so clearly hurting from being pushed away by PB (and a PB saying it was her fault and she was a “dinger”), and on the other we have a PB who felt abandoned and actively angry at Marcy, and a Marcy who felt like she needed to become more “grown up” (the premise for all of “Stakes” ).

In my view, there had to have been some kind of fight. Maybe it was when Marcy got back from her 6-month residency in the Primordial Filth Kingdom (do we even want to know?). But whenever it happened, there was always this tension in their relationship where Marcy felt a bit resentful of PB’s work, and would often try to pull her away from it. And for PB, her work would take priority over everything, even to a fault. Basically, they both made mistakes, they both were people who needed a good bit of reassurances in this department, and they both lacked the ability to have an emotionally honest conversation because of a shared flaw.

So this was a powder-keg waiting to happen. And how I imagine it igniting was something like PB was dealing with Responsibility #482, and Marcy was probably sulking or doing something generally unhelpful, likely because PB hadn’t been giving her much to any attention that week, month, whatever. Keep in mind: Marcy has a dad who she didn’t think cared about her at all at that time, and another parental figure who doesn’t even recognize her; feeling unloved is maybe a bit of an issue for her. At the same time, PB was feeling genuinely stressed because running a kingdom (especially her way) takes a crap-ton of effort.

Cue something snapping, and PB saying something along the lines of “If this is how you’re going to be then get out!” Which Marcy ended up taking very, very literally. Time passes, she doesn’t come back, PB has the weight of a kingdom on her and her only form of support is now gone…so she hardens, and gets to be that pissed off princess we see in “Go With Me,” feeling betrayed and abandoned.

Marcy, for her own part, sees that PB is somehow the one angry with her, and that just turns the knife, making their relationship devolve even further. The sentiment “sorry I don’t treat you like you’re perfect; like all your little loyal subjects do” is rather confirmed with Marcy’s swipe at PB about her soft-hand with the Door Lords. Simply put, things were acrimonious for years. Like…so many years. And while PB was more wont to hide behind her work and ignore that Marcy even existed, Marcy tried to hide her own pain under biting sarcasm and pranks.

Until, of course, Marcy sang “I’m just your problem” to PB, which basically has lyrics that amount to “I’m still in love with you and am really hurt and this sucks,” which was portrayed as bit of a revelation for Peebs:

And then like 5 minutes later Marcy learns that PB kept a shirt she gave her which was a “treasured” item, demonstrating that she obviously still cared too.

Following this, the two women seemed to be on totally friendly terms with one another. Marcy sort of grudgingly admits that she needs PB’s help with a teddy-bear situation, but the two get along fine the whole episode, and end it flying happily home together:

This continues in their smaller interactions, where they’ll joke around through texts with one another, or where PB will seem excited at the prospect of Marcy rapping for her.

The rest is pretty much on-screen history. In “Varmints” PB apologizes for having pushed Marcy out of her life, and Marcy tells her that there wasn’t a need. Then as an almost direct follow-up in the “Stakes” mini-series, Marcy expresses her desire to be mortal, as she feels too “messed up.” She ends up kind of saving the world (though blamed herself for putting in danger), and her take-away once she’s a vampire again is that the experience allowed her to grow up. Which is why she then tells PB:

“Now, I guess we get to hang out together forever.”

Contextualized by their relationship and what happened, this is Marcy admitting that in the past she had been too immature to be the type of support PB needed, likely demanding more of her time than was reasonable given PB’s responsibilities (but she probably also had a point about being pushed to the side…). Which is why I am declaring them as dating now. That’s what the “forever” line meant, and these two are now girlfriends again. The end.

This is a very good thing; we see by “Broke His Crown” that both of these women are finally in a place to support and complement each other in a way that brings out their best. PB will indeed get away from her work when Marcy asks her to so that she can have a karaoke night with her girlfriend’s sorta!dad, while Marcy in turn seems to understand the concept of work-life balance, urging PB to self-care while also recognizing there’s a time for her to take care of business:

Also she thinks PB’s science stuff is rad (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧. No seriously, Marcy was so smiley the entire episode, which after what she went through in “Stakes” was more than a little refreshing to see. Not to mention PB managed to have fun at a party!

“The Music Hole” totally continues on this line. These two simply are dating. PB even casually wears her girlfriend’s necklace from the previous episode!

And you know…they just behave as happy, loving girlfriends.

…happy, loving girlfriends who will also snap into action together quickly to fire a pillow-launching bazooka when the situation demands it. Sometimes it’s best not to ask with this show.

Oh, and I’m going to run away with headcanons about why we weren’t shown the other side of PB’s bed when she answered Jake’s phone call.

We can also certainly read into Marcy’s choice of which Mitski song to perform, since the line “I don’t need the world to see that I’ve been the best I can be, but I don’t think I could stand to be where you don’t see me” seems rather on the nose given the events of “Stakes”:

So there you have it. Marceline and Bubblegum’s relationship. It is canon, and with what we were given, this is the best sense of it I can make.

Now all I can do is sit back and hope that Season 8 will give us a:

Because seriously, I’m dying here.


Images courtesy of Cartoon Network

Kylie is a Managing Editor at The Fandomentals on a mission to slay all the tropes. She has a penchant for complex familial dynamics and is easily pleased when authors include in-depth business details.

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Analysis

The Expanse Season Two Still Fares Well As An Adaptation

Barbara

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The Expanse has had the seventh book in the series released this month, while its third season (meant to adapt the second half of the second book) is scheduled to come out some time next year. In other words, both the authors of the source material and of the adaptation are keeping busy, making it a very current show. So allow me to continue in my attempt to assess how it fared as an adaptation.

The second season works with the second half of Leviathan Wakes, the first book in the series, and the first half of Caliban’s War, the second installment. It continued its similarity to Game of Thrones as an adaptation by diverging from the source material significantly more than in the first year it was on air. The good news, however, is that the changes are not so dramatically for the worse as is usual, and in some cases are even for the better.

Warning: the following contains spoilers for both the show and the books.

Some problems remain from season one. Chiefly, two of them. One is the scope of the world as it is depicted on the show.  The other are the universally dark and gritty visuals. Ganymede is supposed to have corridors carved in ice. Wouldn’t it have been awesome to see that? But now, just more indistinguishable black and grey.

The most significant difference between the books and the show in season two is, without a doubt, all the added drama. It’s everywhere. Every little thing that is routine in the books becomes exceedingly tense on the show. Starting with the Somnambulist, which is not taken by force – or near enough to force – in book!verse, but is simply a ship at OPA’s disposal that Holden is given by Fred. Continuing through Bobbie’s escape from her rooms in the UN compound; she simply walks away in the book and that’s it. And ending with the escape from Gynemedes, which, int he books, is not so much of an escape as simply, you know, leaving. I could keep listing other instances, but this serves as a good example of the sort of tension added for television.

Related to this is also the complete secrecy that surrounds everything on the show. The books work much better with the reality of modern technology where things are streamed immediately. Billions of people watch Eros crash into Venus live, for example, and the data available from what happens there is available to everyone. Or there is the whole thing with the zombie terminator attacking on Ganymede. On the show, it’s a huge secret Chrisjen has to exert extreme energy to ferret out. In the books, everyone knows and there is footage of the attack available. One of my favourite little moments is when Holden tries to hide his identity behind a scruffy beard as he comes to Ganymede, and you end his chapter feeling that he succeeded. Only to open Chrisjen’s chapter and find out that he really, really did not.

Secrecy adds drama, so it is understandable why the show decided to go this way. The need to keep viewers hooked is evident, too. And ending the season in a middle of a book, they needed a suitably dramatic bang to end with. So while all of these things make me roll my eyes, I do not truly blame the show for them. I feel the missed character beats much more keenly.

Captain James Holden

Holden is one character whose arc from the first half of Caliban’s War was adapted truly well. There was the inevitable added drama, as everywhere, but his essential story arc remained.

With regards to the end of Leviathan Wakes, however, the issues from season one continue, and Holden is treated as more of a boy scout by the show than he is by the book. One fantastic moment (though one that could hardly be adapted) was seeing inside Holden’s head when the Head Human Experimenter tried to convince him to join forces before Miller shot him. The reader can see, with intimate certainty, that Holden is this close to giving in when Miller pulls the trigger. We know for certain that it was done at just the right time. Yet Holden condemns Miller for it without the slightest trace of self-awareness, confident he would have resisted. It’s no doubt intentional, and it’s perfection. It should have been replaced by a similar scene suitable for the visual medium that would have conveyed the same. It wasn’t, and Holden’s character suffered for it.

On the other hand, I very much appreciate the change made to Holden’s dynamics with Naomi. In the books, when they start their romantic relationship, it turns out that not only has Naomi been in love with him for ages, so had pretty much every female on the Canterburry, because he is obviously God’s gift to womankind. It’s something to be thankful for that we don’t have to deal with that on our screens, even though I admit that the way book!Naomi handles Holden after that is exquisite.

I’m also very much in favour of the open communication that happens between them before they have sex in the books, as opposed to the “thick erotic tension” kind of deal the show went with. It would be easier to teach people about affirmative consent if there were actual examples of it in the media. There was a scene like that in the book, and guess what? It didn’t get adapted. Let’s all pretend at astonishment.

Dr. Praxidike Meng

I must admit that I was surprised when I saw he was one of the point of view characters. I neither knew nor expected it, and that in itself sums up the biggest problem with his show adaptation. He was very much pushed into the background. I understand why, I suppose – it might have been felt that there were too many new characters – but he lost a lot of his appeal when his role was cut. He is there to represent a valuable civilian point of view among all the trained soldiers and expert politicians. And his expertise adds a crucial dimension to the catastrophe of Gynamede.

Though if someone had to be cut short, I’m glad it was Dr. Meng. I understand they could hardly reduce Hodlen’s role, as much as I’d appreciate it, and both of the ladies are more interesting than Dr. Meng.

Still, I remember lamenting the sharp division between the first and second half of season 2 and pointing out that had Dr. Meng been included in some of the earlier episodes, it would have helped to make the transition more seamless. Now that I know he is one of the point of view characters, I feel this even more strongly.

Assistant Undersecretary Chrisjen Avasarala

I cannot quite decide whether Chrisjen is an adaptational success or failure. Because she is perfection on the show…but she is also quite different from the books. If I should compare book!Chrisjen to someone, it would probably be Miranda from Devil Wears Prada, or characters of that sort. She is not likable in any straightforward way, but at the same time, she has a charm to her that is oddly irresistible as much as you want to punch her in the fact at the same time.

Show!Chrisjen, on the other hand, is much softer on the surface, not showing her hard lines so obviously. Even when she swears, she does it with a kind of disarming smile that takes the edge off it. Book!Chrisjen is nothing but edges.

I don’t want to complain, because show!Chrisjen is one of the best things that ever happened to me, and there is nothing intrinsically better or worse about either of their characterisations. But I cannot help but wonder how far gender stereotyping played a part in making Chrisjen less obviously hard. And it becomes especially problematic when paired with her stupidity in season 2, which takes the form of that oh-so-very-feminine failing of trusting too much in her friends, or ex-friends.

I wrote out my thoughts about that elsewhere in detail.To summarise, it was a subplot that prioritized a male character over a female one, and made Chrisjen look naive. But it was also an excellently done one. So while it troubles me, I cannot with a clear conscience say I wish it didn’t happen. I just hope it won’t again.

Additionally, one change I definitely appreciated was Chrisjen not being Errinwright’s subordinate on the show. It changed the dynamic significantly, and very much for the better. It also made this whole added subplot in season two possible.

Gunnery Sergeant Roberta Draper

Bobbie has a similar problem as Chrisjen: she, too, is made to look markedly more stupid on the show. Only as Chrisjen is effectively a genius, she ends up being just a little incompetent. Bobbie sometimes ends up looking downright stupid.

To be fair, her character is exceedingly hard to adapt. She has that in common with Dr. Meng. While Jim and Chrisjen constantly talk to people around them and even the things that are part of their inner monologue are easy to change to a personal conversation with someone close, Bobbie doesn’t have that option. She doesn’t have anyone close to her left. For a long time, the only person she talks to at all is the chaplain, whom she just dismisses in many different ways when he tries to ‘help’. There is no way to naturally have her talk about what she thinks and feels, because being alone is an important part of her character arc. But not everything can be shown with images.

But that is not the biggest problem with her character. No, that is reserved for the mysterious decision to make Bobbie into a fanatical war-monger at the beginning. I have been complaining about lack of proper representation for Mars in the first season, and so was very happy to see Bobby in nr. 2. And it’s not like seeing her slowly change her approach when confronted with new facts was worthless. But it also made her into a very flat and irritating character for the first two thirds of the season.

It’s not like book!Bobbie goes through no character development after she sees Earth with her own eyes. It’s not like she’s not patriotic or proud to be a marine. But she can be all this and still retain some nuance, and some brain cells. The showrunners seem to have forgotten that. Bobbie on the show frequently comes off as a brat, something her book self never does.

There are other characters worth a mention, naturally. Fred Johnson is probably the most significant. His role was changed significantly as well, and much more tension withing the OPA was included. It adds to the problematic depiction of OPA as uncultured and wild space terrorists, but on the other hand it’s masterfully done. One can understand the sources of tension and where the different branches and wings are coming from. Much like with Errinwright, here again one is willing to forgive the problematic nature of the added material for a large part, because it forms such excellent additions.

In the end, the only thing I truly blame the second season for is the assassination of Bobbie’s character. While changes to Chrisjen upset me, they were compensated for by the excellent quality of Errinwright’s subplot. Yes, it is telling that the two female protagonists were undercut by the adaptation, making them look less smart than they are in the source material. But Chrisjen still comes out of it pretty impressive. The changes to Bobbie, on the other hand, are much more destructive, and they held no compensation, no hidden bonus. She is simply depicted as unlikable, to such an extent that even when we finally get legitimate reasons for sympathy, it’s long in coming.

Season 3 should fix that, and fast. Hopefully, Bobbie is here to stay. She shouldn’t have to carry the weird season 2 baggage with her throughout the show.


Images courtesy of SyFy

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Analysis

The Legend Of Korra Is A Perfect Deconstruction Of Superman

Griffin

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Superman is arguably the single most recognized fictional character in human history. He’s right up there with Batman and Mickey Mouse. His ‘S’ is, at times, even more widely known. “Truth, Justice and the American Way”. “Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.” We know that these phrases are attributed to Superman, even if we don’t know the specific origin or, in most cases, how in the world we even learned them in the first place.

For 80 years, Superman has served as a beacon of hope and change for anyone and everyone. His origin, that of the immigrant whose home and culture were lost the day of his birth (an identity he can never fully regain), is a tragic yet resonant one that has, and will continue to, stand the test of time. Even if it has been re-appropriated into that of a pseudo-messianic myth, the immovable Jewish foundation of Superman’s internal struggle between assimilation (Clark Kent) and refusing to do so (Kal-El) isn’t something anyone has any intention of erasing.

Superman is the bedrock on which all modern heroes are based. Every divergence and every variation, no matter how big or how small, starts with Superman. He is the source, so, naturally, that means he’s the most prone to deconstruction and revisionism.

There have been so many attempts to deconstruct Superman as a concept, as well as his character, that it’s become almost a cliche to even consider it. Nearly every run at it ends in failure, most often due to a fundamental misunderstanding of what Superman even is. What he means, why he is who he is, etc. Off the top of my head, I can name two stories that actually succeed in deconstruction, as they have something worth saying: Superman: American Alien and Superman: Red Son. Wait, no, three examples.

The Legend of Korra. And it does it in a way that is embarrassingly similar to what Zack Snyder’s vision of Superman failed to be.

Xenophobia, A Modern Take

The narrative of Superman is one that is eternally relevant. Immigration as part of the American Dream, let alone an aspect of the nation’s entire identity (“Give us your poor, your wounded, your huddled masses…), has always been a hot button issue. In the new millennium, however, with the onset of the age of instant communication and social media, as well as the events of 9/11, it has ballooned into a political issue based almost entirely on fear. Fear of the “other”, to put it simply. And who is more “other” than Superman himself? He looks like us, and talks like us, but if you’re you and Superman just showed up one day in the real world…you’d have no idea where he came from and what his intentions are.

The only thing you, and everyone else, would know is that he’s different, and possesses abilities that effectively make him a living God. And that is terrifying. Even if the first thing he does is save a plane from falling out of the sky, he’s still going to be looked at with suspicion and fear. At any moment, he could decide to burn the world to the ground. And that’s exactly how Man of Steel and Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice treats Superman.

Something to fear, because he isn’t like us. Because he’s too powerful. Because nobody asked for his help, no matter how altruistic his intentions may appear to be on the surface.

It’s a fantastic opening premise for a deconstruction of Superman, as it makes it necessary for him to prove he’s on our side. To do so much good in a world that resents him out of instinctual fear drilled into their heads by the era that they’re eventually forced to give him the benefit of the doubt. That, as far as the public is concerned, it isn’t any more complicated than a man who is just trying to do the right thing. Except that never happened in those movies.

We never saw Superman be Superman. We saw him save people, yes. We saw him do the thankless job. We saw the world resent him. But we never saw him inspire. We never saw him do anything to make us want to trust him at all. To challenge our preconceived notions of who Superman is.

Until General Zod and company arrived, he only operated in secret, using his powers when it was convenient for him. And even when he was forced to face Zod, he brought untold destruction and and collateral damage to his adopted world…completely invalidating the point of the post 9/11 narrative in the first place. How can the world trust a man who destroys the very city he is trying to protect? They don’t need or want Superman, especially since the only reason Zod attacked at all was because he had been “hiding” on Earth.

When Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice rolled around, Superman is stuck in an inconsistent guilt spiral from the destruction of Metropolis. Except he doesn’t actually do anything to address that, and the movie doesn’t really either. The first thing Superman does is intervene in a fictional African nation to take down a warlord for the sole purpose of saving Lois Lane. Which, if the film wanted take the very-often-overlooked implications of Superman being an American icon, thus leading to him acting as a sort of unintentional symbol for American interventionism, would have been extremely interesting. Except it doesn’t do that either. Superman is there because he wants to save Lois, and that’s it.

Batman acts as a sort of audience surrogate for the fear that Superman inflicted on the world during his battle with Zod, which might have worked had that gone anywhere aside from Batman trying to kill Superman. He never tries to talk to him or understand him; not even after the infamous Martha scene. If he’s supposed to represent our combined terror of what Superman could be capable of, we should probably be able to agree with his rationale (or even understand it) for not stabbing the man who he saw as a monster two seconds ago in the face.

And then Superman dies, only to return in Justice League to a world that, for reasons that aren’t in evidence and also directly contradict everything that came before it, loves and adores him. A world that was on the verge of eating itself because of his death, despite no one wanting or needing him in every other instance.

None of it is earned. None of it really makes any sense, and the whole production, over multiple films, is only half of what is necessary to convey the narrative Zack Snyder clearly tried to tell.

Avatar Korra, Sequence Breaker

As Kylie so eloquently laid out last week, The Legend of Korra is one hell of a transgressive narrative due mostly in part to its titular protagonist. Korra is brash, overeager, and immeasurably powerful. Her series arc is one of self discovery and self acceptance in a world that actively rejects her existence every chance it gets. She wants to be, essentially, Superman, in a world that has no need nor desire for one. The similarities don’t stop there.

She holds ultimate, untold power and uses it with reckless abandon at the start of the series. In her first few hours in Republic City, she undertakes vigilante justice and violently destroys several storefronts. Because that’s the kind of person she is.

People don’t trust her the moment she announces herself, they wonder why they need her, even though previous incarnations of her have almost always been treated like spiritual leaders and authorities. No matter how many times she saves the world, people still hate her. They are suspicious and cynical of the stranger, since she is inherently an outsider due to her birthright and connection to a world (the Spirit World) few can even comprehend or understand.

This set-up is supposed to make us question and consider what being the Avatar actually means when the assumed role is no longer relevant or necessary. What can Korra reasonably do when the geopolitical climate isn’t as simple as “stop evil”? When every action she takes is looked at with intense scrutiny from a far more connected public. That is to say, the show asked us to consider Korra in relation to her previous incarnations to explicate the disparity just as Snyder’s Superman did by contrasting him the with the multitude of other versions of Superman across every form of media imaginable.

Zack Snyder’s Superman begins his journey in much the same place Korra did. He has powers he doesn’t know how to control, and hides them until the world is ready, just as the White Lotus hid Korra. Of course, this is where the deconstruction of Superman falls apart: it doesn’t actually go anywhere. He starts where Korra starts, and doesn’t progress at all. He does the thankless job, sure, but he doesn’t learn from any of his choices or mistakes. He intervenes without thinking about it, and chooses to brood instead of facing his issues and trauma.

At the end of Man of Steel, Clark faces off against General Zod and causes devastating damage to Metropolis. Zod has the same abilities as Superman, as they are both Kryptonian, meaning that he’s basically supposed to serve as an evil mirror. This is far from dissimilar to the finale of Book 2, where Korra fights Unalaq after he becomes the Dark Avatar and starts destroying Republic City. She even kills him in the end, as there was no other way to save the world.

Even Superman’s death at the end of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice — as well as his subsequent resurrection in Justice League — is paralleled and unintentionally blown out of the water. Korra did something very similar with the end of Book 3, sacrificing herself at the hands of the Red Lotus to save the Airbenders. Though she is not killed, she vanishes from the public eye as she heals…just as the world enters a state of actually, truly needing her intervention with the chaos spreading throughout the Earth Kingdom like wildfire.

Superman and Korra are both on isolating journeys of self discovery. Korra’s takes place before and during the final season where she learns to cope with her PTSD, and how to better approach her role even though it is so undefined and volatile. She can be the kind of person she wants to be without constantly fighting for relevance, and even if the world resists her she can pick and choose her battles.

Korra learns how to be happy as Korra, rather than her title and all of the baggage she had stripped from her in the finale of Book 2. Previous Avatar cycles (much like previous incarnations of Superman) operated in a traditional way, but that’s not how the world works anymore and that’s okay! She can still find happiness and purpose in whatever she chooses to do, even if it’s not what her childhood self believed it would become due to the White Lotus jamming that into her head. Not unlike Jor-El did to Superman in Man of Steel.

Superman’s journey takes a confusing amount of years throughout Man of Steel, given that he wanders the world as a bum with a depression beard. The entire sequence doesn’t seem to serve a purpose, since he discovers who he is from the Fortress of Solitude. He doesn’t learn anything about himself as an outsider living in a foreign land, nor does he have a wound that requires isolation and introspection to heal or understand. This is the kind of thing that would have made more sense to happen after killing Zod.

But since it doesn’t, we’re left with an angry, brooding Superman with no redeeming qualities or justification to treat him as Superman. He’s just a superhuman guy in a cape who does things that are kinda nice sometimes.

Korra, meanwhile, justifies her own existence and acts as the hero people grew to mostly tolerate, and occasionally love. She gave them every reason to trust her, and a good amount of people do by the end of the series. Unlike Snyder’s Superman, it was something she earned by deconstructing her own legacy.


Images courtesy of DC Comics and Nickelodeon

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Analysis

Why You Need To Be More Excited About Bisexual Rosa Diaz

Dan

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Television has been a mixed bag for bisexuals. Even as gay and lesbian representation become more and more common (though not as fast as it should), characters within other parts of the acronym are few and far between. For bisexuals, who often suffer from confusion not just without but within the LGBT community, proper, outright representation means quite a lot. Not hints, not little flirts after a female character breaks up with her boyfriend. And especially not characters that just hook up with the same gender as fanservice. We want characters who can say “I’m bisexual.” We’ve been lucky to have characters like Sarah Lance or Daryl Whitefeather in recent years, but as a whole, television seems reluctant to acknowledge bisexuality.

But we finally have another name for that criminally short list: Detective Rosa Diaz of Fox’s Brooklyn 99. And not only is she bisexual, but she’s also a bisexual Latina woman played by a bisexual Latina woman. Let me say that one more time to help it sink in. We have, on a major network, a Latina woman coming out as bisexual who is played by a Latina bisexual woman.

Brooklyn 99 has been a success since day one thanks to its character, heart, and style of comedy that refuses to punch down. It has also become well known for its handling of social issues, best represented by the character of Captain Raymond Holt (Andre Braugher); a black, gay man whose sexuality is merely a part of his character, not his entire identity. The handling of Holt, who stands out in a sea of shallow stereotypes and tokenism, has led the show’s fans to hope another character to come out as a member of the LGBT community. When it turned out that it was Detective Rosa Diaz (Stephanie Beatriz) would be coming out as bi in the show’s ninety-ninth episode, appropriately titled “99,” the people rejoiced.

The episode itself did a good job of keeping her coming out low key. She only comes out to her friend, Detective Boyle, and only after he’d spent the episode bugging her about her new paramour. Interestingly, the show played with ideas of heteronormativity as Boyle pesters her about who “he” is, about her “boyfriend.” Rosa’s frustration seems not to be with Boyle’s prodding into her well guarded personal life (though that is part of it), but instead with his assumption that she was only dating a man. This episode restrains the result of this coming out to Boyle and Rosa bonding, letting the coming out stand alone. It is in this week’s follow up episode, “Game Night,” where the show’s dedication to Rosa and her coming out becomes more obvious.

The conflict in this episode, for Rosa, is in coming out to her parents and co-workers. Rather than let it just be played off as something she can sweat like so many other things, it instead very realistically captures the fears an LGBT+ child, particularly an adult one, might face when coming out.

Rosa’s first act is to come out to her co-workers during a meeting. She uses the term “bisexual,” and allows “one minute and zero questions” of seconds. We learn that she, like many other lovers of the same sex, discovered her sexuality while taking in media, in Rosa’s case Saved By The Bell. The show makes a conscious decision here not to make it some “phase” or something she’s just now discovering. Rosa Diaz has been bi since she was in 7th grade. She has been bi for all five seasons of the show.

Coming out to her parents has an entirely different set of emotions. Rosa fears that her coming out will change something with them, that somehow they won’t love her or they won’t want to be around her (Of course, in Rosa’s usual fashion, their bonding time consists of silent dinners). With Jake’s help (who gives an impassioned and curiously personal coming out speech to Rosa to help prepare her for her parents), she makes an attempt over dinner. Here, Rosa’s fear rapidly turns to anger when she learns that her parents were worried she was going to come out at dinner and were relieved that she was, thanks to a misunderstanding with Jake, just a mistress. The show pulls no punches here, capturing not just how angry she is at her parents’ ignorance but also heartbreak at being burned due to her vulnerability. In true sitcom fashion, this conflict wraps up cleanly by the end of the half hour. But the power and authenticity of it remain.

Stephanie Beatriz, herself a bisexual woman, has not been quiet in her desire for Rosa to reflect her own sexuality and has been effusive in her support of the storyline. She’s worked hard to make sure that the story reflects the bisexual experience, and has personally validated many fans in their own journeys. She does all this while still portraying Rosa as the stone-cold bad ass she’s always been. The emotions we see in Rosa as she comes out are real, they are powerful, and they are beautiful. But they are all 100% still Rosa’s.

As a final and personal note, this is a huge moment for me as a bisexual man being able to see the representation of some of my experiences on the screen. But I can only capture a small part of why this matters. I can’t even fathom how much this matters to bisexual women, let alone our POC brothers and sisters who are even less represented. Rosa Diaz’s coming out is their story as much as it is anyone’s, and I hope that I was able to capture a small measure of the joy this news has caused. 


Images courtesy of FOX

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