Weeb Stuff
It's been a long time since I've shown appreciation for anything Asian, hasn't it? Well, this week, I managed to watch two beautiful movies from that particular corner of the world that definitely deserve recommendations here.
Your Name
The way the opening scenes of this film handle the anatomical and emotional differences between men and women is so irrepressibly charming (and so out of bounds in the West right now, sadly) that I honestly thought I was settling in for a clever body-swap comedy -- until that twist in the middle. I refuse to spoil it, but Holy God, did that take me by surprise! After said shift in tone, what emerges is a deeply moving spin on a popular sci-fi trope that made me cry like the dickens.
A Silent Voice
This movie, meanwhile, is probably the best anti-bullying story I've ever seen. Why? Because it focuses on the bully and his crippling sense of guilt. Because it accepts the possibility that people can change -- especially when they're children and thus have a great deal of maturing left to do. That's really refreshing to encounter in a world that seems obsessed with vengeance instead of redemption and forgiveness.
Comics
Iron Man: Legacy of Doom, David Michelinie, Bob Layton
The 1978 Michelinie/Layton run on Iron Man is one of the best runs (if it didn't cost a bazillion dollars, I'd buy the hell out of the omnibus) -- and as this miniseries reveals, this team still had The Gift decades later. Looking for a giant bottle of Volume 1 nostalgia? Yeah: this - Tony Stark and Doctor Doom once again facing Arthurian legends - is what you want to read. Also features: Demon Howard Stark, a giant eyeball monster, and one panel that was so hilariously drawn that I laughed for five minutes straight.
Captain America & Iron Man: One Night in Madripoor, Cullen Bunn, Barry Kitson
Let's repeat what I said on Facebook: This little volume personally attacks me with its Stark-brand improvisation and high-level IronCap bromance. I loved this almost as much as I loved the '98 annual.
Showing posts with label anime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anime. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
Saturday, October 27, 2018
Things That Make Steph Happy: My Hero Academia
Today, I watched the most American thing ever -- and strangely enough, it was made by the Japanese.
Of course, there's a lot more going on here than a tag line that makes bald eagles cry tears of red, white, and blue. This is about a great hero's last hurrah -- a teacher's sacrifice for his pupil. And it reduced me to ugly, snotty sobs.
Welcome, readers, to the magic of My Hero Academia, in which a superficially silly premise - a world in which almost everyone has superpowers thanks to a mega-dose of handwavium - manages to work by being absolutely sincere in its appreciation for the Western comic books that appear to be its inspiration. Marvel and DC may have lost their way in recent years trying to duplicate Alan Moore's Watchmen (or Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer), but Kohei Horikoshi? He still believes in heroes, and if his storytelling is any indication, he wants you to believe in them too.
One of the major complaints raised by #Comicsgate regarding today's Western comics is that they lack genuine human emotion. This is not true of My Hero Academia. Everyone in Horikoshi's story has a relatable motivation, whether it be Midoriya and Bakugo's deep admiration for All Might (which they express in very different ways, obviously), Ochaco's desire to help her struggling parents, or Iida's worship of his pro-hero older brother.
Even more importantly, My Hero Academia has a moral center. The only reason Midoriya, the principal protagonist, has superpowers at all is that he earned them by working hard and demonstrating a capacity for selflessness. (Incidentally, this also happens to be true for the aforementioned All Might.) And his genetically gifted classmates? In a way, they have to earn their power too. After a devastating loss in UA's sports festival, Ochaco realizes she has to seek mentors beyond her comfort zone who will teach her ordinary combat skills she doesn't have. When Iida's brother is permanently crippled by a big bad, he learns a lesson in prudence when his quest for vengeance nearly ends in disaster. And even Bakugo - rage-filled Bakugo - passes his own test when he refuses to be tempted by the League of Villains. The message is clear: to be a hero means setting aside pride and selfishness.
I really can't put into words how refreshing My Hero Academia is -- although Richard Meyer's "clean feeling" definitely captures the basics. If you're tired of an American pop culture that seems to have given itself over to cynicism and rarefied political obsessions, maybe this weeb stuff can be your antidote.
Of course, there's a lot more going on here than a tag line that makes bald eagles cry tears of red, white, and blue. This is about a great hero's last hurrah -- a teacher's sacrifice for his pupil. And it reduced me to ugly, snotty sobs.
Welcome, readers, to the magic of My Hero Academia, in which a superficially silly premise - a world in which almost everyone has superpowers thanks to a mega-dose of handwavium - manages to work by being absolutely sincere in its appreciation for the Western comic books that appear to be its inspiration. Marvel and DC may have lost their way in recent years trying to duplicate Alan Moore's Watchmen (or Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer), but Kohei Horikoshi? He still believes in heroes, and if his storytelling is any indication, he wants you to believe in them too.
One of the major complaints raised by #Comicsgate regarding today's Western comics is that they lack genuine human emotion. This is not true of My Hero Academia. Everyone in Horikoshi's story has a relatable motivation, whether it be Midoriya and Bakugo's deep admiration for All Might (which they express in very different ways, obviously), Ochaco's desire to help her struggling parents, or Iida's worship of his pro-hero older brother.
Even more importantly, My Hero Academia has a moral center. The only reason Midoriya, the principal protagonist, has superpowers at all is that he earned them by working hard and demonstrating a capacity for selflessness. (Incidentally, this also happens to be true for the aforementioned All Might.) And his genetically gifted classmates? In a way, they have to earn their power too. After a devastating loss in UA's sports festival, Ochaco realizes she has to seek mentors beyond her comfort zone who will teach her ordinary combat skills she doesn't have. When Iida's brother is permanently crippled by a big bad, he learns a lesson in prudence when his quest for vengeance nearly ends in disaster. And even Bakugo - rage-filled Bakugo - passes his own test when he refuses to be tempted by the League of Villains. The message is clear: to be a hero means setting aside pride and selfishness.
I really can't put into words how refreshing My Hero Academia is -- although Richard Meyer's "clean feeling" definitely captures the basics. If you're tired of an American pop culture that seems to have given itself over to cynicism and rarefied political obsessions, maybe this weeb stuff can be your antidote.
Saturday, September 15, 2018
Things That Make Steph Happy: Cells at Work
Over the past week, I bandied about some ideas for posts that would address the absolute trash fire that is the fandom and/or modern-day discourse in general -- but in the end, I decided to talk about something a little more fun. In the end, I decided to introduce you all to a treasure of a show that has brightened my Saturdays every week since mid-summer and may yet turn me into a full-blown weeb.
In the end, I decided to talk about Cells at Work.
As one YouTube comment remarks, "I've never been this excited to see blood before." The setting of Cells at Work is the inside of an unspecified human body, and all of the principal characters are anthropomorphized blood cells, including:
Red Blood Cell AE3803, who starts off as a directionally-challenged ditz but actually becomes more competent as time goes on.
Neutrophil U1146, a hyper-dedicated white blood cell who screams "die, germ!" a lot and, oh by the way, also has a thing for Red. (Yes, this show will persuade you to start shipping blood cells. Just roll with it.)
The platelets, little kindergartners who are so freaking precious that you almost die of sweetness overload every time they appear. A clip of these cuties building a clot is what convinced me to seek this show out in the first place.
Additional components of the immune system also make appearances depending on the particular challenge of the episode, including Killer T, Helper T, NK, B-Cell, Macrophage, and others. Of these secondary characters, Macrophage is probably my favorite. One minute, she serves as nursery school teacher to developing erythroblasts in the bone marrow; the next, she busts out a giant ax to lay waste to invading antigens. That juxtaposition is pretty damned funny if you ask me.
Actually, a lot of this show is pretty damned funny if you have a background in biology and/or medicine. Oh my Lord, do the in-jokes come fast and furious! For example, you will sometimes see Red squeezing through an impossibly tiny alley to deliver a box of oxygen to a common cell -- because capillaries are super small, amirite? You will also see various immune cells passing through walls or popping out of sewer grates -- because, of course, said cells actually have that transmigration capability in real life.
On the whole, I adore how Cells at Work depicts its concepts. For instance, in "Cedar Pollen Allergy," the over-the-top immune reaction to the goofy, harmless cedar pollen marshmallow monsters is finally stopped when Steroid, a robot labeled "for medical use only," lays down a barrage of overwhelming weapons fire until the swelling in the mucus membranes goes down and he runs out of juice. I love that! Every time I take steroids from now on, that's what I'm going to picture.
Cells at Work is, for the most part, very formulaic. The characters start off an episode going about their usual business when - oh no! - the Monster of the Week appears, forcing them to scramble for the appropriate solution. But just because a show has a formula doesn't mean it doesn't tell good stories. No: the Japanese writer of the manga upon which this show is based generally balances the teaching aspect and the storytelling aspect of his/her conceit quite well. The evolution of Naive T Cell in "Influenza" is enjoyable to watch, as is Eosinophil's mini-arc in "Food Poisoning." And this happens to be the first show ever that has made me feel bad for a cancer cell. (Poor Cancer Cell! It's not his fault his DNA was copied incorrectly. And yet, he still must die for the sake of "the world.")
TL;DR: Cells at Work is the best educational program I've seen since the days of Square One TV. If you can find a way to watch it, go and do so! It may not be everyone's cup of tea, but if you have any interest in medicine whatsoever, I'm positive you'll find it an absolute delight.
In the end, I decided to talk about Cells at Work.
As one YouTube comment remarks, "I've never been this excited to see blood before." The setting of Cells at Work is the inside of an unspecified human body, and all of the principal characters are anthropomorphized blood cells, including:
Additional components of the immune system also make appearances depending on the particular challenge of the episode, including Killer T, Helper T, NK, B-Cell, Macrophage, and others. Of these secondary characters, Macrophage is probably my favorite. One minute, she serves as nursery school teacher to developing erythroblasts in the bone marrow; the next, she busts out a giant ax to lay waste to invading antigens. That juxtaposition is pretty damned funny if you ask me.
Actually, a lot of this show is pretty damned funny if you have a background in biology and/or medicine. Oh my Lord, do the in-jokes come fast and furious! For example, you will sometimes see Red squeezing through an impossibly tiny alley to deliver a box of oxygen to a common cell -- because capillaries are super small, amirite? You will also see various immune cells passing through walls or popping out of sewer grates -- because, of course, said cells actually have that transmigration capability in real life.
On the whole, I adore how Cells at Work depicts its concepts. For instance, in "Cedar Pollen Allergy," the over-the-top immune reaction to the goofy, harmless cedar pollen marshmallow monsters is finally stopped when Steroid, a robot labeled "for medical use only," lays down a barrage of overwhelming weapons fire until the swelling in the mucus membranes goes down and he runs out of juice. I love that! Every time I take steroids from now on, that's what I'm going to picture.
Cells at Work is, for the most part, very formulaic. The characters start off an episode going about their usual business when - oh no! - the Monster of the Week appears, forcing them to scramble for the appropriate solution. But just because a show has a formula doesn't mean it doesn't tell good stories. No: the Japanese writer of the manga upon which this show is based generally balances the teaching aspect and the storytelling aspect of his/her conceit quite well. The evolution of Naive T Cell in "Influenza" is enjoyable to watch, as is Eosinophil's mini-arc in "Food Poisoning." And this happens to be the first show ever that has made me feel bad for a cancer cell. (Poor Cancer Cell! It's not his fault his DNA was copied incorrectly. And yet, he still must die for the sake of "the world.")
TL;DR: Cells at Work is the best educational program I've seen since the days of Square One TV. If you can find a way to watch it, go and do so! It may not be everyone's cup of tea, but if you have any interest in medicine whatsoever, I'm positive you'll find it an absolute delight.
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