Recommendation: The Turn of the Screw and The Aspern Papers

The Turn of the Screw and The Aspern PapersThe Turn of the Screw and The Aspern Papers by Henry James

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The more I am exposed to the writings of Henry James, the more he rises in my favor. I can strongly recommend both “The Turn of the Screw” and “The Aspern Papers”–and while I started this volume specifically for the former, it was the latter tale that proved to be my favorite.

“The Aspern Papers” reads sort of like a crime thriller focused not on a violation of law but rather of manners, complicated by an unreliable narrator and turned almost baroque by the leisurely summer setting in expat Venice and by the lovely, elaborate language. (The dense prose, the examination of the affairs of well-to-do socialites, and the dialogue that can be naturalistic or elaborate as the situation demands all hint at James’s status as part of a bridge between literary movements.) I was eager to see just how far the narrator would go in his pursuit of the titular papers of his literary idol, Jeffrey Aspern, a (fictitious) early American poet. The narrator is a critic and historian who has learned that Aspern’s lover still lives with her niece in Italy, in seclusion; she apparently has kept letters and the like from the late writer, and while she would never part with them in life, the narrator contrives to stay on as a boarder in the hopes that he might nonetheless find an opportunity to gain access to those documents. In his telling of events, the nameless narrator often seems to minimize his behavior or to emphasize his embarrassment at what he said and did, but his obsessive greed, regardless of the justification, is apparent. While the narrator seeks understanding for his actions and perhaps shared interest in his quest, it was the niece who most earned my affection. Middle-aged, lacking in many lived experiences or much education, stuck with her aunt in a too-big house in isolation, too meek to change things, Miss Tina is initially pathetic and lacking in agency. But by the end of the story, she finally gains some shred of confidence and independence, though it can be hard to see this through the smoke-screen of alternating pity and disgust that the narrator throws up around her (she can be plain or almost attractive, middle-aged or elderly, overly trusting or plain stupid, depending on his mood and the events surrounding the situation). She’s trapped on both sides by predators–by her dominating aunt, and by the manipulative new tenant with his secret quest for spoils. Only by the end is she given the opportunity to define herself. It’s interesting that the strongest character growth can be observed in a character obscured and misunderstood by the narrator, and I can’t help but imagine how fascinating it would be to see a version of the story that was centered on Miss Tina. (And the relationship between aunt and niece, fallen from a sort of nobility and living on in the corpse of a once-great dwelling, reminded me of the much-later documentary Grey Gardens.)

“The Turn of the Screw,” on the other hand, is an excellent ghost story. Set within a frame narrative of a holiday gathering in which this tale is allegedly being recited from a manuscript drafted by the haunted protagonist, a young governess finds herself in over her head on a new assignment in caring for two young children when she begins to see the glaring figures of a strange man and woman about the house and grounds. It is soon confirmed that the visages she sees match the descriptions of a deceased servant and the deceased former governess. The protagonist fears that the two have begun to corrupt the children and plan to take them away. While there is much debate among academics over whether the ghosts should be interpreted as literal or psychological, I found the story to be agnostic on the point, yet another disturbing mystery to ponder. There are many mysteries in the story, including just what exactly former tenants Quint and Jessel actually did. Certainly it is suggested that they had an affair, that Quint may have violated or abused or degraded many women, and while the sexual implications are only ever suggested, never stated outright, they certainly suggest a sadist of a man. How they implicated the children, and what they want with the children in death, is even more troubling. I have my own interpretation, and I’m sure there are many others. So much of the story is about ambiguous, disturbing events that invite multiple interpretations and explanations. And the end is far from happy.

Both stories are excellent. I don’t particularly care if you read this volume (although I appreciated the introduction by Anthony Curtis), but I do strongly recommend that you read these stories in whatever format you can.

View all my reviews

Abandoning Vampyr

Having wrapped up Little Dragons Café, I figured I’d finally make an effort to finish Vampyr. I overall liked the story, and I liked the game’s themes, even if I was frustrated with the gameplay and my own technical issues with the game.

Earlier this week, I booted up Vampyr. And the game immediately fell into a chugging pace. Even stepping forward caused substantial stuttering. It was a dreadful mess, a slog of choppy frame-rates just to get up the stairs of the protagonist’s hospital base. And I realized that it just wasn’t worth it for me to finish the game.

Yes, I gave five minutes or less and abandoned the whole project. But I just wasn’t willing to keep pushing through. I played through a substantial portion of the game. I had unlocked 50% of the game’s achievements. I had mostly found my time in the game rewarding. And I would like to see the end of the story. But it just seemed too painful and frustrating to push on through.

From the reviews I’ve seen, it would seem that I’m not alone in encountering technical issues with the game. I’d say that my experience has been in the minority and on the extreme end, though. It’s hard to say where the game’s issues end and where my own computer’s issues pick up. I’d say my computer still runs most things great, but I do spend most of my PC gaming time playing older titles. I built this rig in 2010, so it’s not quite a decade old yet–but that’s a fairly long time for a computer. I’ve upgraded parts occasionally, but the last significant improvement was probably four years ago.

The computer does what I need it to do. And I’m rather fond of it. I’m not going to build another one soon. I’m not going to buy another one soon. So I might finally be reaching the point where my days as a primarily PC-focused gamer are at an end, outside of exploring older titles that I missed or returning to my favorites. That’s fine. Even with my most recent lackluster Switch gaming experience, I’ve still at least somewhat enjoyed everything I’ve played on the console. Some of my favorite games ever have been on that console already. And I like the console itself rather a lot.

Maybe eventually I’ll get a more powerful console or a newer PC. But right now I’ll just allow myself to complete this pivot to Switch-focused gaming. There’s already quite the backlog of games on the console that I want to try out. And it just so happens that Vampyr is making an appearance on the Switch sometime in the second half of the year…Maybe I’ll pick it up for the console and give the game another try with some distance (and the hope that it will be optimized for the platform).

For now, I find that my thoughts after 36 hours in the game remain much the same as they did when I wrote my initial impressions: it’s fun, it’s flawed, and–if you don’t encounter frustrating technical impediments–it’s worth your time.

Closing the Book on Little Dragons Cafe

I did not write a blog post on Sunday because I was on a mission for much of that day. My mission, unfortunately, was to finish Little Dragons Café. While I have a feeling of relief at having finally closed the chapter on this game, I’m mostly disappointed by what could have been and frustrated with the tedious grind of the final third of the story. (If you haven’t already, please check out my initial charmed reaction to the early sections of the game and my reflection on my eventual disillusionment.)

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I was actually engaged for a good portion of the game. Even when I didn’t want to care for some of the characters, either because they start out as such unrepentant jerks or because they seemed like simple anime stereotypes at first glance, I ultimately found almost everyone who came through the cafe doors to be endearing. I loved Billy, Ipanema, and Luccola, and I loved the playful, teasing, sometimes mean yet ultimately loving dynamic between them. Poncho the cowardly child warrior is adorable and incredibly sweet once you get his whole story. Celis has a great arc, moving beyond her witch-supremacist, anti-human bigotry. Huey’s hilarious and energetic; Chou Chou, despite being a pop idol, deals with a lot of guilt and insecurity in the wake of achieving stardom when her other companions did not; Ginji is a badass master thief questioning his life choices. The runaway Rosetta was somewhat annoying to me, but her story had a nice resolution that left her in a better place after forcing her to reconsider past events–in fact, most characters are left in a better place after being forced to reconsider past events, typically through the combination of compassionate prodding by the cafe staff and one really good meal.

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But the final few characters were unappealing to me. Miere is a famed fortune teller whose fortunes are all obviously garbage. She believes the world’s ending. The most amusing and interesting thing about her is that she has supreme confidence in her fortune-telling ability because she predicted when she was young that all her predictions would be true. Miere doesn’t really have a resolution, though; she never really recognizes her flaws. She just decides that maybe she can change fate with enough good luck, and she decides to continue her fortune-telling. Lanche is a child vampire, a trope that’s been done to death and is always a little disturbing to me; rather than focus on how disturbing it is to be stuck as a child forever, her story is about coming to terms with her pre-vampire memories. In this way, Lanche is just like Maurice, a ghost from earlier in the story who must come to terms with the memories of his own departed past life. I didn’t like Maurice (his main character trait is being annoying), so to see the character type return didn’t improve things for me. And it meant that we’d had a ghost, a werewolf, and a vampire show up. Finally, Dr. Zeff is a mad scientist who must be convinced of the value of his own humanity, and of humankind in general; in this way, he’s just a freakish and grumpy repeat of Celis’s arc.

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I’ve talked about the characters a lot, and even the weaker, redundant character stories toward the end of the game will probably stick with me for a while. In a way, each character story was like an episode or small arc in an anime, representing side adventures that are only loosely connected to the larger story. That larger story never really built to anything here. For all the talk of draconic bloodlines, the game fizzles out in the end. The final chapter, in which you now have a fully matured dragon that can take you all about the island, is an incredibly boring series of fetch quests.

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The failings of the plot are really on display by the last section. Your journal tells you how to trigger plot developments, but it’s frustrating that the plot can only be advanced one day at a time, basically by being in the right place at the right time (augmented only by the collection of a recipe and preparation of a special dish for each of the visiting characters). By the end of the game, with my cafe reputation maxed out and all my attention on concluding the story, the plot was still advanced at a slow trickle. The story advice was basically a perpetual recommendation to go to sleep. I quickly gave up on the cafe entirely at the end, choosing to just sleep as soon as the day’s cinematic or island scavenger hunt concluded.

It’s not as though I really cared about the cafe by the end. You never really get much better at what you’re doing. Your staff doesn’t improve. Despite the magical growth of the inn, the cafe itself stays small and cramped. The controls remain frustrating (in all things, the controls remained frustrating, with substantial lag for tasks like flying or jumping). Your success and increased reputation is just marked by more customers, such that if you stay to help the staff, you can devote the entire day to the most tedious of grinding as you hop between taking orders, serving, and cleaning up. There’s very little strategy to it all; there’s no true management. You just hop in and develop a system for yourself and hope that you don’t have to interrupt your coworkers’ slacking all too much. In the final third of the game, my time in the cafe was a mind-numbing repetition of the thought cycle, Take Order – Place Order – Serve. It worked for me, and on days that I was there for the majority of the time, the customer base would often be satisfied or happy. On days I helped a little, customers would often be okay. If I skipped out entirely, to focus on the other mind-crushing reality of ingredient gathering, I’d often get reports that the customers were outright disappointed.

And I should emphasize that ingredient gathering never gets better or more interesting. You remain a perpetual forager. I developed a routine of hitting up spots that most consistently yielded needed ingredients, hoping for a good randomized production. Occasionally disrupting the routine to check for any newly washed-up recipe boxes was hardly all that refreshing.

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By the time my dragon was fully mature, I knew most of the areas with debris that couldn’t be destroyed earlier. I knew the one tall section on the mountain that I still couldn’t fly to. And I knew the one bridge I still couldn’t cross. I tried to do all the things I couldn’t do earlier, and it took me about a day in-game (I still couldn’t cross that final bridge). I had this powerful dragon with this amazing ability to engage in high-soaring flight, and there was very little for me to do with it.

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Closing out the game at the very end was anticlimactic. There was a lot of speechifying about the power of friendship and love–although there was still a lot of dry humor, with Billy in particular really lampshading the campy tropes and ridiculous coincidences used to reach an ending. The credits rolled (with game stills that reemphasized the canonical dragon of the game to be red, in contrast to my adorable blue boy). A handful of lovely storybook images showed the revival of the mother. Then you’re dumped back in the game with the ability to change the dragon at will between its sizes, by way of some new recipes. I tried the final bridge once more, and I still wasn’t allowed to cross it. I was burnt out on the cafe and the ingredient collection. I’d explored everything–well, if not everything, all that I wanted to see. There were presumably lots more recipes to gather (especially by way of combining dragon forms to get to tiny hiding holes in far-out places) and to then practice, but there was no driving reason to engage with any of that. I cannot foresee any reason to return to the game now. And while I mostly liked the story, I know that its final third is simply not worth revisiting again, and the rest is probably best just left as fond memories.

As I prepared to write this review, I tried to look into the mystery of the final bridge. Best theory seems to be that this bridge just symbolizes the mainland where everyone comes from to eat at the cafe. Given that the island across the bridge seems fairly small and the world around the island is mostly covered in water, this purely aesthetic insertion is mostly annoying to me and felt misleading. It’s the promise of more where there is none. That’s the whole game, really: the promise of more, and the failure to deliver.

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It turns out, I discovered, that the game probably feels emptier than it should be precisely because it is: many elements that would have given a fuller experience were cut. Lead designer Yasuhiro Wada told IGN that about seventy percent of what he had originally planned for the game was cut from the final version, adding that “there are parts that were cut out that feel like a waste to cut out from the game.” Those features include much greater customization of your cafe, your protagonist, and your dragon (including, it would seem, features that would have allowed the dragon to specialize in certain activities, which certainly would have made it more useful to me); a fuller experience for the cooking rhythm game; and additional characters and plot points. That last one really sticks with me: the story feels incomplete and rushed toward the end as-is. Wada wants a sequel that incorporates many of the above elements (and presumably even more); as much as I was disappointed by this game, I’d love to see a follow-up that more fully delivered on its potential.

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Hey, if nothing else, the return to the dragon-pal simulator got me in the mood for more dragon-pal fantasy, and The Dragon Prince Season Two is right around the corner!

3 Reviews: Heneral Luna, Kita Kita, & BuyBust

Back at the start of January, just over a month ago, my wife and I watched three Filipino films on Netflix: Heneral LunaKita Kita, and BuyBust. As I write this, the three are still on Netflix, included in the paltry “Filipino Movies & TV” category along with AmoBirdshot, and recent additions All of You (a romance/drama) and Goyo: The Boy General (a sequel to Heneral Luna).

Heneral LunaKita Kita, and BuyBust share the simple similarity of being Filipino films in the same way that GloryMy Big Fat Greek Wedding, and Dirty Harry all share the similarity of being American films. In other words, there’s nothing uniting them. And if I were writing these reflections closer to viewing, or if this blog were focused on film, then I would definitely give each film its own separate post with completely separate reviews.

As it is, I’ve been wanting to write up my thoughts on these films for a while, but I’ve put it off so long that I’m relying on faulty memory and my own brief notes, and this blog is far from a review site or film discussion platform. So here they are, all together, united only by national origin.

Kita Kita

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I’ll start with Kita Kita, as this was my favorite of the three, and I’d recommend it to just about anyone who loves fun or, well, love. Kita Kita, written and directed by Sigrid Andrea Bernardo, is a 2017 romantic comedy starring Alessandra de Rossi and Empoy Marquez. De Rossi’s character is a Filipina tour guide living in Sapporo, Japan, who develops temporary blindness after discovering that her boyfriend was cheating on her. Marquez is a dorky young man who moves in across the street, attempting to befriend her as she adjusts to her new life without vision. If that sounds ridiculous, it is, and the film just has a lot of fun without ever really laughing at itself. Marquez and De Rossi have excellent chemistry and are frequently funny. Absurd elements pile up in the background and foreground, including a silent banana sidekick, a subversion of the expected feeling-of-loved-one’s-face-to-see, a shockingly blunt third-act shift in plot and tone that revisits much of the film’s events, and a major plot thread hung on the fact that the Sapporo brewing company originated in and was named for the city of the same name. Yet the sillier it gets, the sweeter it gets, and I was touched both by the central relationship and the final moments of the film. I’ll admit that I read some moments of heightened sentimentality in an ironic way and enjoyed the movie for it; some might read it straight and find those same moments cloying (or at least cute rather than painfully, awkwardly funny). Kita Kita invites you to give in to fun and romance for an hour and a half, and whether you decide that it’s subversive and clever or absurd and stupid, you’ll probably at least laugh a few times. Oh, also, KZ Tandingan performs a version of “Two Less Lonely People in the World,” which is just great; she’s worth listening to even if you plan to skip the movie.

Heneral Luna

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In contrast, Heneral Luna (directed by Jerrold Tarog, who shares writing credit with Henry Francia and E.A. Rocha) is a 2015 Filipino war epic and biopic of the titular general, Antonio Luna (portrayed by John Arcilla). I thought the movie was campy and nationalist, heavy in symbolism but at best a modest success as a historical fiction or biographical production. I was only vaguely familiar with Luna’s life and only somewhat more familiar with his death, but my knowledge was enough to guide me through the dizzying whirlwind of factual and fictitious events depicted. I don’t think it’s meant to be read as pure history, either, as there are some surreal sequences that attempt to plumb his psyche and early years, and battles are played up for gallant heroism with the occasional grotesque carnage of war thrown in for emphasis. Seriousness is lost especially in every scene portraying the Americans, as the “American” actors dressed up cliche-filled dialogue in hammy performances and cheesy accents. General Arthur MacArthur is portrayed as such a goddamn cowboy general despite his pompous demeanor and portly body that it was tempting to cheer for the comic figure. The film teeters between cavalier depictions of violence and sentimental hero-worship, and Luna is presented as not just a hero but a doomed savior and martyr. I’d say that Luna was depicted as downright messianic, and there’s a strong argument to be made that Heneral Luna functions as a contemporary, nationalistic pasyon (while I don’t feel qualified to develop the argument much further than that, I’d be very interested to read any academic or film critic essays that explore that avenue).

BuyBust

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I did not like BuyBust. I hated BuyBust. BuyBust (written by Anton C. Santamaria and Erik Matti, with Matti directing) is the story of a militarized squad of law enforcement officers fighting the war on drugs, trapped in the labyrinthine slums of one neighborhood and killed off one by one as they mow down waves of drug dealers, enforcers, and virtually rabid slum-dwellers. Matti co-wrote and directed On the Job, and I loved On the Job. Matti is actually a critic of the drug war and of Duterte and speaks quite intelligently about what exactly he was doing with this film (“Usually, with these adrenaline-pumping action movies, there are lulls in the middle to give the audience a break, but for this one we wanted to try something where it just doesn’t let up. It just goes on and on — even to the point of people getting tired,” he told the Hollywood Reporter.)

Still, whatever the filmmaker’s intentions (and regardless of the general critical response, which seems to be mostly favorable), I personally read much of the film as disgustingly classist and authoritarian. There are corrupt cops, and it slowly dawns on some of the surviving civilians that law enforcement and drug dealers are dragging them into a never-ending cycle of violence and vendettas that do not serve the common folk that both sides claim to protect, and there are some last-minute reveals about higher-level corruption and a cover-up of the violence, but I don’t think it would be too hard for a film-goer to interpret the film as pro-establishment. (Matti adds in that Reporter interview, “I wanted it to be as clear-minded and as neutral as possible . . . . I don’t really want to take sides and be pro-government or anti-government.”) After all, the cops, weighed down in body armor and piles of guns and ammo, are treated as the victims for much of the film, unfairly assaulted by the impoverished denizens of this back-alley realm.

The indigent population of Manila’s slums is treated as a horde of savage, mindless, and brutish animals. They are easily persuaded to blame law enforcement first for the deaths caused by the drug lords and then for the deaths caused by the police killing in self-defense against the early attacks by other homicidal slum-dwellers. The “heroes” are generic soldier types, a couple given exhausted tropes in place of actual personalities, most with no personality at all. Most of the film is spent in dark, drawn-out action sequences, and grotesque violence is apparently relished, especially when targeted against the poor. These exceedingly long, exceedingly brutal, exceedingly pointless fights pad out the run time to just over two hours, but with the plot of an hour-long TV special. In many ways, the experience was like that of watching a zombie horror film, or perhaps playing a segment of a zombie horror game, set in genuinely claustrophobic, winding, gritty urban slums (this is hardly a unique observation; while I felt clever in drawing the connection, apparently just about everyone else did as well, and Matti himself talks about “the zombie film without zombies idea” in that Reporter interview–and honestly, the interview is rather fascinating, and I’d encourage you to skip the movie and read that instead, or at least to read it first before going into the film).

There are two “twists” at the end of the film that are both pedestrian and unsurprising. First, the surviving slum-dwellers reject both sides and demand that what’s left of law enforcement and criminals leave. Second, we learn–gasp!–that there were higher-level corrupt police officers who use the cycle of raids as a way to profit off the drug lords.

I will say that I would have been more interested in the civilians’ final decision of non-interference and independence if we hadn’t had to watch them be butchered by the dozens, often in horrifying ways, up to that point. While Matti apparently tried to avoid an anti-poor take, the film still reeks of it to me.

The most powerful moment of the film is the closing sequence, in which a news report says that a drug lord was captured with thirteen dead, while we know that the crime boss had in fact been killed, and the camera pans across the slums in the daylight, covered in the bodies of dozens of the fallen. That moment is dramatic and ironic and poignant, but it’s too late to course-correct for the brutal two-hour drag leading up to it.

In conclusion, I’d recommend Kita Kita, I thought that Heneral Luna was fine but not vital viewing, and I hated BuyBust.

Pseudo-Review: The Ted Bundy Tapes

I watched Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes over this weekend. As if anyone needed a reminder, it established how evil a man Ted Bundy was. There weren’t any jaw-dropping revelations, and if there were any new insights into the man, I didn’t register them.

I don’t really want to write a full review for this. I’d rather just leave today with the pretty pictures from my other post. But I just wanted to share that I saw the documentary, and while it was morbidly fascinating, it was not really must-watch television.

I don’t think this documentary will really challenge your views or present you with much new information. I don’t think that we as an audience, as a society, benefit from the rehashing of murders committed by a very disturbing, yet very small, fraction of our society. But I recognize that the grotesque nature of the crimes and the alien psychology of the killers is…mesmerizing? Haunting?

Bundy’s kind of confusing because he doesn’t seem to have the same sort of triggers or childhood behaviors that are typically associated with serial killers. He’s frightening because he seems almost like he was just born evil, though I imagine it’s not as simple as that. But my opposition to the death penalty remained untested. I imagine that if you support the death penalty, your views will similarly be untested. I hope that if you disagree with me about capital punishment, you will at least agree that the people who celebrated his impending death with partying, drinking, and cheering are reprehensible and represent a deplorable facet of human psychology.

I actually have more thoughts–as usual, a lot more thoughts. But I don’t have the same desire to write them out. It can be depressing to dwell on these real-world monsters.

Review: Titans

I really liked Titans. It’s got a great cast, coherent arcs for most of the characters, a brutally violent and dark world with a surprisingly emotional heart, and a good deal of the relationship dynamics that I’ve always enjoyed in young superhero team-ups without the degree of camp found in the Arrowverse collection of shows (the omnipresent Greg Berlanti is an executive producer for the various shows falling under the Arrowverse, as well as for Titans).

The core composition of the Titans in this incarnation ultimately consists of Dick Grayson’s Robin (played by Brenton Thwaites), Raven (Teagan Croft), Starfire (Anna Diop), and Beast Boy (Ryan Potter)–though all but Dick, who is haunted by his history as the Dark Knight’s sidekick, are basically only known by their civilian names, with but brief allusions to their eventual aliases. These four are occasionally joined by Hawk and Dove (Alan Ritchson and Minka Kelly), Wonder Girl (Conor Leslie), and Robin 2.0, Jason Todd (Curran Walters). I loved basically every character and thought that each actor did an impressive job with what they were given.

Each version of Dick Grayson is my favorite until the next version I encounter, so Thwaites’s turn as the character is currently at the top of my list of incarnations, but he might actually stay there. Dick’s so haunted by his past, by what he did as Robin, by how his gradual turn to greater violence tarnished what his alias was supposed to stand for. So much of his time is spent hating what Batman did to him, but in the end, I was left with the impression that, for all Batman’s faults, no one was more to blame for what Robin became than Dick himself. Midway through the show, Dick finally makes the decision to fully reject his former identity, setting the stage for an eventual Nightwing getup in a future season, I imagine.

Raven, here just preteen Rachel Roth, actually kicks the narrative off. Rachel runs away from home after someone kills her apparent mother and attempts to abduct her; in so doing, she flexes her buried dark powers. Rachel finds herself hunted by two factions: those who wish to destroy her, and those who wish to use her to release her demonic, inter-dimensional father. To the show’s credit, the loyalties of those pursuing her were often mysterious, leading to some fun surprises without ever leaving me with the feeling that the narrative unfairly withheld information. Rachel is the gravitational force in the narrative that pulls the other heroes together. She is understandably angsty, fearing the darkness inside her and obviously traumatized by the events that start off the season. She first goes to Dick because of a recurrent vision, and she quickly depends on him, seeing in him a sort of mentor similarly dealing with a dark internal impulse, even though Dick wants nothing more than to walk away. (The relationship reminded me in many ways of that between Wolverine and Rogue in 2000’s X-Men film adaptation.)

Anna Diop plays an amnesiac Starfire, operating under the human name of Korey Anders. She comes to after an apparently violent car chase, under fire from gunmen, with a few obscure clues to her background. For most of the season, she does not know her mission or her true identity as an extraterrestrial, but she is able to quickly discover that her purpose had something to do with tracking Raven down. Korey is a fun counterpart to Dick; both are incredibly driven, clever detectives, and absolutely brutal fighters, but Dick is typically dour while Korey seems to mostly be having a blast. She has fun when she fights, coming across as cheerily psychotic. She also kills–a lot. That’s a little unsettling at first, until it sort of becomes a joke. Dick has Batman’s code and practically begs Korey to restrain herself, most of the time. She’s not the naive, fish-out-of-water character I’m used to, but there’s some shared DNA with past versions, scrambled to fit the darker, more “mature” tone of Titans.

Beast Boy–Garfield Logan–is the most tangentially connected to the characters, but he provides a lot of the soul. He’s sweet and funny and caring, and while he has a traumatic past as well, he’s had years of quiet existence with a family of sorts (the introduction of the Doom Patrol was as clear a backdoor pilot as I’ve ever seen, so it’s no surprise that they’re getting their own spin-off series). He also has an unsettling arc in which he channels the more lethal elements of his shape-shifting powers, though his natural lightness and cheer mostly allow him to cope. Mostly.

Hawk and Dove have an interesting interconnected past with Robin, and a later episode more fully fleshes out their backgrounds. I’ve never really cared for Hawk and Dove, nor have I given the characters much of a chance, but I liked them here. They’re rough-and-tumble street-level vigilantes who are, somewhat ironically, perhaps the most connected to the larger universe of superheroes outside of Robin and Wonder Girl. Wonder Girl is retired, now a photojournalist who improves the world through activism and investigative reporting; as Donna Troy, she’s an important mentor figure to Dick, and she proves to be a valuable ally toward the end (she also makes clear that the Justice League exists–or existed–in this universe).

Finally, Jason Todd is…incredible. He’s a shitty little punk always itching for a fight. He’s not nearly as clever or educated as Dick, he doesn’t have the natural athleticism and acrobatic ability of the former aerialist, and he looks like he’s a week overdue for a bath. But he’s scrappy and can pack a punch. Recruited by Batman after attempting to steal the tires off the Batmobile, he’s having the time of his life. He loves what Batman’s given him, and he’s initially awed to meet the original Robin, but his hero-worship ends quickly enough. He’s quite willing to break the rules, drinking underage and getting in bar fights and beating up cops for fun and petty revenge. He’s a total asshole, and I love him. I now fully understand Tumblr-culture’s “trash son” meme. He’s my trash son. Jason Todd is just having the fucking time of his life, and he’s loving every minute of it.

On Jason Todd, executive producer Greg Walker said in an IGN interview:

What I really love about [Jason] as a character is the unbridled sense of self that he has–there’s a lack of . . . maybe self-awareness, but for sure self-consciousness in terms of how he comports himself and how he moves through the world . . . . He’s completely seemingly unaffected by darkness – he kind of embraces it or walks right through it. He’s a breath of fresh air and that’s what I love about him, he’s got a punk rock, no-holds-barred attitude that’s massively unburdened. There’s a lot of energy that comes with that.

To that I say: yes. Exactly. All that. 100%. I love Jason Todd. This is a remarkable turnaround for me; prior to this, I mostly knew him as the Robin who was killed, or peripherally, as the Red Hood. He was uninteresting or a non-presence to me. And now, he’s just the coolest. “I kick ass with Batman and I fucking love it.” Yes you do, Jason Todd, and good for you.

jason todd.png

Ahem. My point is, the characters are well-acted and well-written, and you’ll probably fall in love with at least one of them–especially if you can give the show room to do its own thing, rather than merely adapting comics arcs or characterizations previously established in the Teen Titans or Young Justice cartoons.

There are villains, too, but the show so far is really more about the heroes. The villains are obstacles, not so much compelling on their own. Even the updated Nuclear Family (in this version, brainwashed assassins) still takes a backseat to the heroes. I hope future seasons introduce more interesting antagonists to the heroes, but I’m glad that this origin story gives the audience plenty of time to get to know the new versions of these heroic characters.

The show is rather violent and bloody. I wouldn’t mind that toned down a little bit. There’s a scene in the first episode, after a woman is shot, where the camera lingers on her bullet-hollowed forehead as it bleeds on the floor, and I was annoyed by the fixation, the silent declaration that this is the MATURE version of the Titans. But a lot of the violence just drives home how brutal the vigilante lifestyle really is, the lengths a hero must go to. I think this is clearest in Hawk’s backstory: there’s something a little broken about these characters, some hurt that they channel into violence against others. If they didn’t act from a cause, from some belief in upholding justice, they’d probably all turn to petty crime or militarism. That said, I cannot emphasize enough that there’s some humor and a lot of heart to the show. It’s a story about found family and emotional healing. It still feels like a Berlanti production about young-adult superheroes.

Executive producer Akiva Goldman told Deadline Hollywood, “We wanted to arrive at a tone that wasn’t as welcoming as some of the DC shows have been, nor as nihilistic as some of the films have been.” I think that they more or less hit that balance. It’s not as grim-dark as the worst excesses of the DCEU, but it’s not a campy teen soap opera like the Arrowverse shows. Without getting into spoilers, I will say that the show wavers toward grim-dark in the season finale. While I’m sure we’ll see a quick reversal of fortune in the next season, it nonetheless felt like a tonal shift with an unnecessary cliffhanger, leaving the central narrative of the entire season unresolved. Cliffhangers are fine, but it would have been nice to see this first act actually reach a conclusion. If nothing else, the finale highlights what a careful balancing act the intended tone of this show can be.

Overall, though, this was consistently enjoyable to watch. If you skipped over this first season, give DC Universe a trial run. Titans is easy–and fun–to binge.

DC Universe, Take Two

It’s stupidly quick how soon I have another take on DC Universe. I don’t want to keep talking about it, and this blog will never, ever be comics-focused, but I do feel that I have to update my initial impression.

That’s because I actually downloaded the Android app on my tablet today. DC Universe would appear to be developed around the app first; the website version simply feels inferior. Searching, browsing, and interacting with comics was easier. The searching actually worked better! It felt more intuitive when following characters or series down rabbit holes into new discoveries. Some comics were suggested that I simply did not find through the website.

And My DC actually works now, tracking what I read and watched (even historic stuff). Downloading comics was painless, and it was easy to delete them when done to free up space (while still preserving them in my reading history). I had no issues with reader stability, and the panel view and autoplay feature enabled me to read a comic issue while at the gym, even.

Maybe there’s been an update since my first impressions? But I’d still emphasize that using the app really shows the value of DC Universe and makes its digital comics reading experience a rewarding one.