Black Cops on Screen: When It’s Not A Mess

Oh, the many, many portrayals we have of black police officers from the black beat cop to the black commissioner. From Mod Squad to Law & Order‘s three-decade run across 65 seasons, In The Heat Of The Night (1967) to Bad Boys III (2020), they are nothing new to our eyes. The question is, why are we seeing more and more of this hyper-specific form of representation in the wake of so many high-profile cases of police brutality and corruption? Why does it feel like black folks have become the face of American law enforcement and the military on screen? The Obama years ushered in the intoxicating fantasy of a post-racial America where interracial couples appear in auto insurance commercials and Kendrick Lamar gets invited to the White House for a 4th of July barbeque. It was the era when many of us got our first smartphone and Brooklyn 99 started its eight-season run. You might not think these events were fundamentally at odds, especially considering the Obama campaign’s ability to utilize social media effectively to win elections, but they were. While mainstream America patted itself on the back for electing its first non-white male president, a critical mass of police brutality footage caught on iPhones and Galaxy+ cameras began appearing with increasing frequency across social media. Black folks oscillated between images of gilded White House galas awash with black celebrities and artists celebrating Black excellence to videos of the state-sanctioned murder of our people in broad daylight. One reality seemed to negate the other. Was America becoming the dream it always promised us or was it finally being seen for what it really is? Donald Trump’s ascendancy became the answer to this question.

These days it seems audiences are swimming in black copaganda while our president, carried into office on the back of the BLM movement’s 2020 voter registration campaign, calls for even greater funding of the police. We’re not just the good apples on screen either, we’re the nasty and the incompetent ones too. We’re all the parts of the basket that you can see. The deluge is meant to placate us. For every black face in authority, for better or worse we are to ask ourselves, is this really something you want to tear down? And yet there is such a drought of film and television that speaks to the racial realities of being a black police officer. In this piece, I will highlight two films that go against the copaganda grain in their unflinching portrayals of what it means to be black in law enforcement. Christopher St. John’s Top of the Heap (1972) and Bill Duke’s Deep Cover (1992).

Before we go any further it will be useful to provide a quick definition of copaganda for readers unfamiliar with the term. Mark Anthony Neal outlines the term and its function in his piece, “Copaganda: How pop culture helped turn police officers into Rock Stars — and Black Folks into Criminals,” which is a great read that I recommend:

“Copaganda — the reproduction and circulation in mainstream media of propaganda that is favorable to law enforcement — has long been a tool to disrupt legitimate claims of anti-Black violence. Simply put, copaganda actively counters attempts to hold police malfeasance accountable by reinforcing the ideas that the police are generally fair and hardworking, and that “Black criminals” deserve the brutal treatment they receive. Such cultural framing has been critical to buttressing the need for a more expansive criminal justice system that fuels mass incarceration.”

TOP OF THE HEAP (1972)
Dir. Christopher St. John
Streaming: Plex, Tubi, Amazon

Continually passed over for promotion, loathed by his community, and resented by his family, D.C. Officer George Lattimer is a pulsating ball of rage ready to unload on any petty offender in his path. Living in financial constraints and watching the years pass him by, George is trapped between the badge and his people. He is painfully aware of the department’s racism, that no matter how many exams he takes, no matter how many hours of overtime he puts in, he’ll never advance. But back out on the street, he is reminded at every turn that the shield is often the only thing standing between him and the bitter ire of post-civil rights era white America.

Top of the Heap doesn’t mince words and the story has no attachment to whatever supposed valor there is for black officers. George acts as a willing weapon for a racist state. He is hardworking but untrustworthy, strong but cruel. He’s the sort that’s more likely to kick a door in than walk cooly into a room. He offers no down-home wisdom and he has no catchphrases. The man is real uptight. Paula Kelly, his unnamed side-piece, tells him he ought to loosen up and get his head right but even an orgasm can’t relax him. At the heart of the story is George’s mother’s passing and his inability to grieve, to let his guard down for even a second.

There is so much emptiness in George’s pursuit of meaning and prestige on the police force. When he reaches the point of emotional and spiritual despair and tells his wife he wants to quit the force, he finds little sympathy in his wife who reminds him that he is supporting a family and does not have the luxury of changing careers. There is no Hollywood reprieve to be found, and no sudden opportunities emerge. This is a profoundly sad film. I cried on both watches. NASA becomes an allegory for serving, as a wish for escape, as a fear of total isolation. The moonbeams in his spacy visions harken Curtis Mayfield’s premonition on Freddie’s Dead, “We can deal with rockets and dreams / But reality / What does it mean?” Nothing tops his dance with his mother though. I melted.

DEEP COVER (1992)
Dir. Bill Duke
Streaming: Rentable on Apple and Amazon

We open with tragedy as young Russell Stevens watches his junkie father gunned down on Christmas Eve after a robbery gone awry. Traumatized, he swears he will never let this happen to him. Born poor and black, Stevens is yet unaware he was lost at birth. Flash a couple decades ahead and we find him behind a badge working for the Cincinnati Police Department. When asked why he became a cop, he says, “Because I wanted to be of some use…to make a difference somehow.” The first shot inside the station opens with a racist question from DEA Special Agent Gerald Carver that serves as the answer to everything we need to know about how the organization moves. The question stuns and disqualifies the first two black officers but not Stevens. We learn that his psychological profile scores “almost exactly like a criminal. Resents authority. Rigid moral code…but with no underlying system of values.” Thus, he is recruited to go undercover in Los Angeles. For how long? “Six months, a year, five years,” Carver waffles without clarity.

Fresh off the set of Boyz N the Hood (1991), Lawrence Fishburne steps away from the enlightened consciousness of Jason “Furious” Styles Jr. into the angry uncertainties of Russell Stevens (John Hull) without Fishburne sacrificing any of his inherent cool. In the street, the divisions in his psyche profile play out. While attempting to get closure to a seller he witnessed the murder of a young boy selling on the corner and reports this to Carver who seems sincerely puzzled by Stevens’ morals and brushes the event off. The longer he stays under, the more he sees, and the more he sees, the more he loses grip of his sanity. All he wants is to bring the investigation to its conclusion, to bag the seller at the top, and come back into the fold. But was stopping the flow of drugs in the community ever really his assignment?

In my rewatch, I was struck by Duke’s ability to weave in a real-life geopolitical context. The further down the rabbit hole we go, the more the United States federal and state law enforcement becomes undeniably complicit in the crack boom. The DEA is sponsoring the flow of cocaine out of Central America into low-income black communities in southern California to fund the right-wing contras rebelling against the Sandinista Revolution 1978-79 in Nicaragua.

Stevens: What is he, the new Noriega? He helps you fight communists, you Iet him bring in drugs to sell it to niggers and spics, and you use me to do that shit?

Carver: You violated orders! Don’t make a conspiracy of it!

Stevens is trapped between a superior officer who boasts of himself as God, pressuring him to lose himself in his undercover persona, and a black LA detective steeped in Christian moralism who equates selling drugs to putting a loaded gun to someone’s head. Neither can have his best interests in mind. We leave Stevens just as complicated as we found him. His true allegiance is left muddled and his sense of self is fractured, perhaps indefinitely. We are left with a question:

“We took eleven million in drug profits out of the van. The money doesn’t know where it comes from, but I do. If I keep it, I’m a criminal. If I give it to the government, I’m a fool. If I try and do some good with it, maybe it just makes things worse. Either way, I’ll probably just wind up getting myself in more trouble. It’s an impossible choice, but in a way, we all have to make it. What would you do?”

Wrap-Up

In Charles Burnett’s short film Quiet As Kept (2007), a New Orleans family scraping by on FEMA funds in the wake of Hurricane Katrina debate going to see a movie. What is playing worth the $11 price of admission? The mother, Sharial C. Lee, laments the lack of substance available, saying, “A black movie- it would have told us what was going to happen when Katrina hit. It would’ve told me where I stood in this country. Just like Emmitt Till told my father where he stood.” This perfectly encapsulates the urgency and the responsibility of our current political landscape where slogans like “Defund the police” have been drowned out, where endless reforms lead to bigger budgets and flashier toys to brutalize unarmed civilians. These works of film by black writers and directors are a sorely needed antidote to the pacifying narratives we are fed daily of the police being our protectors and our friends. They remind us exactly where we stand.

Supplemental Resources I Didn’t Discuss (if you want to learn more)

MENA January: A Celebration of Film from the Region

As we cross over into a new year and traverse the darkest months, what better way to pass the long cold nights than with a good film? Festive watching is big in this house. We keep it black for February, March is Women’s History Month, May is AAPI, June is Pride, and so on. Each month gets its own curated batch of cinema from as wide a net as we can cast. It’s a quilted way of watching and when gathered together the stories form a conversation. What started as a simple interest in Palestinian films as the world continues to watch the ongoing slaughter in Gaza dovetailed into a cinematic bopping between Tunisia, Jordan, Morocco, Iran, Israel, and Egypt. We kicked off with a recommendation for Elia Sulieman’s absurdist comedy Divine Intervention (2002).

With how fraught it is to even acknowledge the existence of Palestinian people online, the wave of firings for Palestinian support, and media suppression of the ethnic cleansing occurring in Gaza, I was genuinely surprised to discover the wealth of Palestinian films available on Netflix currently. My partner (and Letterboxd data) tell me this is because many Palestinian films are produced in France, which makes blanket deals to distribute their cinema to Netflix.

Below are the highlights from the month.

Divine Intervention (2002)
dir. Elia Sulieman
Palestine

It’s deadpan, it’s quiet, it’s silly, it’s sensual, it’s a bleak picture of the totalitarian reality for Palestinians, and it’s an over-the-top early 00s action flick all rolled into one. You think you’ve got the gist of the tone and then the director drives by and lobs a grenade into an Israeli tank. Of the four Sulieman films we watched this was by far the most eclectic. Though it left me feeling unequipped to place a star rating on it, the film was a great introduction to the filmmaker’s style.

Gaza Mon Amour (2020)
dir. Tarzan Nasser and Arab Nasser
Palestine

A tremendously endearing love story between an old fisherman and a woman who works at the market. Both incur the daily torment of IDF harassment, electrical blackouts, checkpoints, and old age. Things take a turn for Issa when his boat pulls an aroused statue of the Greek God Apollo from the sea. Will these star-crossed lovers manage to get over their own personal baggage while surviving the state? It’s not often we get to see our elders on screen bring a little romance into their lives. Also, fans of Succession will recognize Hiam Abbass.

The Time That Remains (2009)
dir. Elia Sulieman
Palestine

Taking place over four time period in Palestinian history since the Nakba of 1948. This is the film that introduced me to the dashing, arresting figure of Saleh Bakri who feels like the sort of brooding masculinity of classic Hollywood. Gorgeously staged with a warm color palette. One can’t help but sit with the fact that every facet of Palestinian society is surveilled and the threat of occupier violence is ever present. And yet, there’s humor bursting out of this in the most unexpected places. Elia Suleiman, again, plays the meta version he plays of himself, always silent and sophisticated and deadpan.

Four Daughters (2023)
dir. Kaouther Ben Hania
Tunisia

This folks, is what we call a mind-fuck. The set-up feels closely akin to the style of Nathan Fielder and The Act of Killing (2012). A family is missing two daughters (the audience isn’t told how until the end) and they seek out actors to portray not only the missing sisters but themselves as well, and this is being filmed as a documentary. Over the course of two hours, they attempt to sift through the wreckage of inter-generational trauma, deeply embedded patriarchy, body autonomy, religious upheaval throughout and after the Tunisian revolution (2010-2011), exorcisms, and US drone strikes. It’s great in an exhausting way.

Alexandria…Why? (1979)
dir. Youssef Chahine
Egypt

A quilt of various stories, ideologies, hopes, dreams, and struggles stitched together by the young and old in Alexandria toward the end of the Second World War. The British haven’t left, and the Germans and Italians are bearing down on them, but the seeds of the republic still a few years away are sprouting up. This captures a major turning point for Egypt, signifying what they have endured and where they are headed. The film resists the urge to situate viewers in one point of view, opting instead for the communal approach.

Inshallah a Boy (2023)
dir. Amjad Al Rasheed
Jordan

A window must fake an entire pregnancy to save her family home. Only a boy can ensure this and the plan doesn’t dawn on her until the ensuing disaray of the husband’s passing. This is as stressful as you’re probably imagining. It’s a bit of a relentless pile on for Nawal. Even the sparese moments of sweetness are stressful. Nevertheless, this keeps you on the edge of your seat for two hours are you scratch your head at the absurdity of the patriarchy.

The Blue Caftan (2022)
dir. Maryam Touzani
Morocco

This is tenderhearted cinema. Halim has been married to Mina for a long time, with whom he runs a traditional caftan store in the medina (old town) of Salé, Morocco. The couple has always lived with Halim’s secret – his homosexuality – about which he has learned to keep quiet. However, Mina’s illness and the arrival of a young apprentice upsets this balance.

For a full list of what I watched during the month click here.

To end with, I have a book recommendation. The Hundred Years War in Palestine: A History of Settler Colonial Conquest and Resistance, 1917-2017 by Rashid Khalidi. Over forty years of on the ground journalism along with a focused history of six pivotal moments throughout a century of occupation. I enjoyed this so much I’ve vowed to read the rest of his work. Free Palestine.

Aquaman Fumbles Mixed-Race Representation

Before I get into this, I want to say I really enjoyed Aquaman. I was ready to crap all over the film but I left the theater eating my words. Sure its long and bloated with enough material for three movies but it was fun-as-hell. The battles were pure eye candy, James Wan didn’t take the character too seriously which lead to some hilariously cheesy, albeit enjoyable moments. I rented it for another viewing the other day and showed a group of friends and it was just as fun the second time around.

My qualm with the film is how it handles its multiracial protagonist Arthur Curry (Aquaman). Aquaman is a film that revels in the idea that being multiracial means being emotionally and biologically stronger, more progressive, and just overall better, but fails to explain why. Traveling the well-trodden troupe of a hero caught in a tug-of-war between the diametrically opposed cultures of their biological makeup (See: Blade, Star Trek, Underworld, Vampire Hunter D). While Curry isn’t quite the brooding Blade or stoic Spock, he is a loner. He doesn’t have a place in Atlantis and on land we never see, nor is it implied that Curry spends time around any humans besides his father and those he rescues from the sea. He mostly drinks and keeps to himself. We get little insights into how he sees himself like the dialogue in the introduction. Overlapping the chance meeting of his parents in the opening scene, Curry tells us,

“My father was a lighthouse keeper. My mother was a queen. They were never meant to meet. But their love saved the world. They made me what I am: a son of the land, a king of the seas. I am the protector of the deep.”
-Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

All of this resonates deeply with me. As the child of a black man and white woman, the metaphor connected immediately. I feel sympathy towards this type of character. The ones who don’t fit in, who never feel like they are enough, those who quietly shoulder their burden alone. I feel that weight in my chest.

Where the film loses me is when it (like so many others in this tired troupe) decides to lay the collective weight of international/cultural/diplomatic relations on one person whose genetic make-up just so happens to link the two worlds. Instead of exploring some of the nuance and anxiety often experienced by multiracial/mixed folks, Curry acts as a walking, breathing MacGuffin. The film quickly establishes (with no explanation) Curry’s race is the first, last, and only solution to the seemingly inevitable race war, and we spend the subsequent two hours chasing this idea.

You might ask, what’s so wrong with that? Doesn’t love conquer all? I get the impulse. The quickest, most obvious way to dispel a belief in genetic superiority or the inherent separation of races, is to show the (sexy) product of a multiracial couple.

*Note: Black audiences will recognize this troupe for what it is, a simpler, more digestible way to humanize non-whites. Empathizing with a dark skin character is often a bridge too far. That’s why we see anthropomorphic animals (Planet of the Apes), humanoid aliens (Avatar), artificial intelligence/androids (The Matrix Franchise, Blade Runner) serve as racial metaphors without ever having to offer any subversive or critical takes on race. Instead, they give audiences simple, digestible metaphors that are often thematically decades behind progress but provide enough catharsis to trick white folks into thinking they ‘get it.’

But multiracial people aren’t the solution to nationalism or prejudice or solving race relations. In case you were unaware, there were multiracial men and women 400 years ago. There were hundreds of thousands of multiracial babies born throughout slavery in the United States and somehow… it didn’t fix systemic oppression, nor did slow the tide of Jim Crow. Instead, we got the One Drop Rule.

“Your half-brother, King Orm, is about to declare war upon the surface world. The only way to stop his war is for you to take your rightful place as King.”
-Mera

Growing up mixed (black/white) there were many white folks along the way who assured me of the post-racial fantasy: “everyone will look like you in fifty years,” or that “eventually everyone’s gonna fuck everyone else and we’ll all be some shade of brown.” I’ve heard a million variations of this sentiment from the young and old, all liberals. I even believed it myself for a number of years. I sort of wore the possibility of a mixed up future like a badge of pride. Like I made it to a lame party I knew would be bumping in a few hours. Even up to a few years ago I would get revved up about the multiracial possibilities ahead on the horizon the potential of multiracial men and women to be the bridge of understanding and unity between two races. Now it’s just frustrating. It’s cynicism masquerading as optimism. Just as the race relations in the world of Aquaman have reached a boiling point, so too have relations in our reality. Somehow this hasn’t produced an innovation in thought or problem-solving, rather we seem to cling all the stronger to the simplest solutions, the ones that let us feel good without exerting much thought or energy.

Aquaman offers the same sort of racial catharsis that films like Green Book put forth. The antagonist is so backward and ignorant that they say egregious things like, “A half-breed mongrel dares to come and take the sacred relic of King Atlan?” providing a distinct image of ‘what a bigot looks like’ thus giving some audience members the sigh of relief, “That’s a bad person. That’s what a racist looks like?” The unspoken, yet understood sentiment is: Not Me.

National Geographic: The Changing Face of America (2013)

My One Big Issue w/ Jump Force

Last month saw the release of the highly anticipated Jump Force, a fighting game ambitious enough to gather 30+ (playable) Shonen Jump All-Stars. I pre-ordered my copy and got to battling the day of the release. To my surprise, Jump Force was met with lukewarm reviews. It gets called out for its stiff character interactions and lack of coherent direction in the Story Mode. As a longtime fan of several Shonen Jump/Shuiesha titles, a major selling point for the game was getting Goku and Hisoka, or Gon and Yusuke, or Boruto and Luffy in the same place. To say their interactions leave something to be desired would be accurate. I can live with that though, my imagination is vivid and I can make up my own reasons for our heroes to duel.

The major, glaring flaw of Jump Force is the absence of playable female characters. There are three: Kaguya (Naruto: Shippuden, Rukia (Bleach), and Boa Hancock (One Piece). This means the men outnumber the women by a ratio of almost 10:1. Even with the list of DLC characters on the way, we see the addition of one more female character, Biscuit Krueger (Hunter X Hunter). Where’s Android 18 (Dragon Ball Z)? Sakura (Naruto)? Lisa Lisa (Jo Jo’s Bizarre Adventure)? Where’s Genkai (Yu Yu Hakusho)? WHERE’S GENKAI?!

This was pretty much my issue with Yu Yu Hakusho: Poltergeist Report, the second theatrical film of the series. When the Spirit Realm is threatened by the reemergence of the Nether-Realm, a plane of existence which previously rested above the Demon Realm in the same way that the Spirit Realm rest above the Human Realm. This is all significant because the three gods of the Nether-Realm seek to co-opt our realm (the Human Realm) to remake their world. This of course means lots of death and destruction and carnage for humanity, starting with Tokyo. I rented an old U.S. Manga Corps. DVD so there was a quality drop from the remastered episodes on Hulu. Still, the film was entertaining. The events fall somewhere after the Dark Tournament and the Demon Realm arcs. Yusuke, Kuruma, Hiei, and Kuwabara have honed their fighting skills to extraordinary levels yet remain teenage boys in their emotional development. The animation really leaps in quality in the final fight producing some dazzling moments.

The film seems fine with leaving its female characters on the sidelines. Botan, the Spirit Realm messenger/Cute Reaper, is almost exclusively shown battered in the arms of a comrade, Yukina and Keiko appear briefly before being injured as well. There is a fight between Genkai and Yakumo is fun but concludes quickly and takes Genkai out of the game for the rest of the film. And Shizuru isn’t even present…

Poltergeist Report is a microcosm of my qualm with Yu Yu Hakusho, in that it relegates the women to catalyst roles that serve mostly to advance the development of the boys. Keiko is presented early on in the series as a friend turned romantic interest for Yusuke, and while she stays that way for the duration of the show’s 112 episodes, her screen time is limited to scenes where she plays the nervous cheerleader in Yusuke’s quest. Initially, Keiko is a needed tether to the life Yusuke moves away from in his service to the Spirit Realm. Unlike Yusuke, she isn’t whisked away from the life of a teenage student. She still has to manage the everyday and the mundane while the boys go on distant adventures. Personally, I don’t see her character as integral to the series, BUT if she’s going to be present, you’ve got to do more with her than clench her knuckles every time Yusuke gets himself involved in danger.

Yukina is another missed opportunity. While she is the distant (and estranged) sister of Hiei, the two never have a moment to unpack this together. In fact, Yukina never discovers the truth even while several other characters do. Hiei decides not to tell her at the end of the series and within Poltergeist Report, Kuruma again asks why Hiei abstains from filling her in and is brushed off. Like Keiko, she is a spectator of several battles throughout the series though her actions are limited to nervous worrying.

Shizuru is a little different in that she uncovers latent clairvoyant abilities and is able to act as a medium in moments of otherworldly dangers. She’s written as mature, cool headed, stern yet compassionate, and always smoking (I know it’s bad for you but she looks so cool with a cigarette). Shizuru doesn’t fight but with her abilities she’s at least able to be more than another worried wreck.

Lastly, there’s Genkai or Ba-san (grandma). She is a wise mentor, a difficult teacher, a formidable fighter, and one of my favorite characters. When we first meet her, she falls into the old mentor role so common in shonen stories. She becomes so much more she fights alongside our heroes in the Dark Tournament. In fact, it is her history with the younger Toguro that forms the backbone of the arc and the motivation the team being there in the first place. Even after relinquishing her power to Yusuke for him to advance against Toguro, she’s still exceptionally formidable and able to tango with the baddest of fighters.

That’s why it was such a disappointment when Poltergeist takes her out after her first fight, and why it’s such a disappointment that we don’t see her among the Jump Force lineup. Have we forgotten who taught Yusuke the ‘shotgun’ a technique where one balls up their fist releasing a scattershot of rei beams? Who went toe to toe with the brothers Toguro?

Yu Yu Hakusho does so much right. It consistently shows us what positive male friendships and rivalries can look like, it honors the growth of a team over one (Goku-esque) hero who is usually the only hope of survival. It features a non-binary individual as a major character. The opening and ending themes have found their way into my regular rotation. Hell, I actually struggle to come up with characters I don’t like– usually it’s merely small facets of their character.

Obviously, I’m talking about a show nearly 30 years old at this point, so not a whole lot can come from my gripes but as we continue to see the release of new Shonen series like My Hero Acadamia that appeal to the same demographics and walk closely in the footsteps of Yu Yu Hakusho, it’s so imperative that we critique the ways in which the genre handles the women they present. Afterall, there are HELLA women that ride hard for all things Shonen. Just ask @blackgirlsanime!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BqihPojDs3p/

Bombed Out / Undeterred: Stromboli

Ingrid Bergman the name without a face I knew for years, and often confused with famed director Ingmar Bergman. I believe her roles in the films of Roberto Rossellini (watched recently) have been my first experiences with her work. Actually, as I type this, I’m remembering that I saw Casablanca over a decade ago, and to be honest, all I remember is that I enjoyed Humphrey Bogart’s performance. With that said, her performances in the Italian Neorealism classics ‘Journey To Italy’ and ‘Stromboli’ were immensely enjoyable. Let’s talk about the latter.

Stromboli opens with Karin (Bergman), a Lithuanian, in an interment camp. Charmed by Antonio (Mario Vitale) an Italian ex-POW fishermen who proposes to her with promises of returning to his home island of Stromboli to start a life together. Their marriage secures her release and together, they voyage to the island. Upon arrival, Karin is met with the harsh reality of life on the island. The year is 1944 and throughout the preceding decade many of the island’s inhabitants have migrated elsewhere, seemingly leaving only the most staunchly conservative residents on the island. Much of the structures, including Antonio’s previous home, are in disarray and in need of serious renovation. And to add to all this, the two have only a few dozen lire between them.

Initially distressed and dismayed at her new life, Karin turns to an island priest with experience of the world outside of Stromboli, as a source of support. In time, Karin comes to embrace her surroundings. She renovates Antonio’s childhood home, attempts to make friends of her own, and regularly confers with the priest on marriage advice. Unfortunately, the island and its inhabitants are as resistant to her as she is to them. Many of the island women, especially the clergy, view Karin with disdain for her “lack of modesty.” They view her attempts remodeling her living room by painting floral displays and her friendliness with any male not her husband as an affront to their ways.

The story is told through the eyes of Karin, though we are often asked to reflect on Antonio’s dismay. Unlike Karin who was shuffled from camp to camp across Europe during the second world war, Antonio has only ever left the island to fight in the war. He is simple and young with no worldly desires. He settles back into the humble life of a fisherman immediately after his return. While courting Karin, he tells her that he knows what kind of woman she is, that he understands her. In the moment, this feels like the sweet naivety audiences are accustomed to in romantic pictures. These two have survived the largest war of the century, surely a happy marriage is attainable. The assumption may be damning. Antonio receives Karin’s woes and financial worries as a mark on his home and heritage. It is clear that Karin’s struggle to assimilate distresses him, though he struggles to understand why.

The second and third act feature extended scenes of animal struggle meant to mirror the hopelessness and disconnect in Karin and Antonio’s marriage. First, we see Antonio bring home a pet ferret in the hopes of using it to catch game like rabbits. Joyfully, he displays the ferret’s hunting prowess with a live rabbit. Karin looks on in horror at the helplessness of the rabbit, seeing something of herself in the creature’s plight, while Antonio cackles in delight. This scene, along with the big fishing haul near the film’s climax, serve to highlight the chasm between the lovers. Antonio celebrates the haul as it will not only feed the village, they can sell the excess fish on the mainland to support the village. Karin, again, sees herself in the fish’s plight.

Events escalate when Karin confirms she’s three months pregnant just hours before the island’s volcano erupts. The island inhabitants quickly rush to the boats and take to the sea for protection. Eventually, Karin and Antonio return to the island, though Karin has made up her mind. She tells Antonio that she can no longer bare life on the island, she is returning to the mainland. The film climaxes with Karin attempting to cross the island. Choosing to go up and over, she reaches the peak, stares down into the magma pit, and passes out in a fit of despair. She awakens with new resolve, vowing to God not to be defeated as she puts a hand to her belly. But by who? The island? Life?

Bergman’s performance was by far the most enjoyable part of this film. The fishing scene is extraordinary in that it is shot documentary style– those are real citizens of Stromboli and real fisherman. In fact, as per Neorealist style, most of the island’s inhabitants are not professional actors. The shot of the volcano’s eruption are dazzling and terrifying. Unfortunately, much of this movie dragged. While we understand the distance and aversion of the islands inhabitants have to Karin, we never get to know them. Rossellini writes them off quicker than Karin can. Also, Karin’s direction at the end of the film is vague.

3/5

Bombed Out / Undeterred: Paisan

Paisan (Paisà) is Italian slang for a fellow countryman, a compatriot.

It was the image of Joe (Dots Johnson), an African-American MP, and Pasquale (Alfonsino Pasca), an Italian child and ‘orphaned street urchin,’ that really put the hook in me. With just a few Italian Neorealist films under my belt, I saw a clip of the odd duo planting themselves atop a heap of rubble on the battered streets of Naples and knew this was one for me.

Any time any film before 1970 humanizes black actors, I want to know more. It lights up the hopelessly naive part of my brain eternally seeking some sort of racial reconciliation. This is probably why audience keep turning up for films like ‘Green Book’ despite their surface level and often antiquated reading of race relations– not to mention the controversy. Paisan is not one of these films. It’s actually six vignettes (roughly 20 mins each) about six sets of characters, Joe’s story being episode two. So let’s talk about it.

Episode two takes us into the aftermath of the Allies capture of Naples (circa late 1944). A group of children roam the streets in search of materials to barter or sell. Pasquale, a young orphan, is presented with the opportunity of obtaining a ‘negro.’ *cringes* Tagging along with the other children, he soon meets Joe, a heavily inebriated American solider. Pulling Joe along, the two stroll through the garbage strewn streets of Naples before scaling a mound of rubble and discarded aluminum cans. Pasquale shows Joe his harmonica and Joe tries in vain to play, choosing instead to sing a verse from ‘Nobody Knows The Trouble I’ve Seen.’ In a drunken role-play, Joe takes Pasquale (who he refers to as Paisan) through an idealized version of Allied victory over the Axis powers. Not only does Joe assist in ultimately defeating the Axis powers, he’s personally congratulated by a general and flown back to New York City for a ticker tape parade. Joe’s not selfish, he tells Pasquale he can tag along as they visit Wall Street and Manhattan. In this scenario, he even offers to introduce Pasquale to New York City’s mayor.

As the minutes pass in episode two, it would be easy to look past Joe’s dark skin and see simply another G.I. physically and emotionally shaken by the second World War. Past the first mention of race when the children tell Pasquale he can sell a negro, race is not explicitly stated nor discussed, and yet it is this unique inclusion of an African-America from which the story derives its superior depth. The second world war was a brutal conflict that reshaped the entire world. Millions died fighting and millions more were crushed between the gears of its machinations. Despite unequivocal victory, tens of thousands of men returned home with what we now acknowledge to be PTSD. It was hard on everyone. But there is a particular bitter irony for African-Americans fighting in the war, just as there had been in the first World War, the Civil War, and nearly all wars stretching back to the American Revolution. History shows us that black veterans returning home from the second World War faced harassment, physical harm (including lynching), and were still barred from entering white restaurants, clubs, and schools. The G.I. Bill which famously uplifted a whole generation, failed miserably at assisting blacks.

All of this to say, things aren’t looking good for Joe– and it shows. Starting out with great gusto, things peter out when reality sets in and Joe bemoans his return home with all the anguish one might expect from someone who sees war as something of a reprieve. “I don’t wanna go home. I don’t wanna go home. My home is nothing but an old shack. I don’t wanna play no more, Paisan,” he says, leaning back with all the fatigue in the world. In brutally honest moment of levity, Pasquale warns Joe not to pass out or he’ll steal his shows, and of course this happens.

“Looky here, America, what you done done? Let things drift until the riots come. Now your policemen let your mobs run free. I reckon you don’t care. Nothing about me. You tell me that HitIer is a mighty bad man. I guess he took lessons from the Ku Klux Klan. You tell me Mussolini’s got an evil heart. Well, it must have been in Beaumont that he had his start. Cause everything that HitIer and Mussolini do, Negroes get the same treatment from you. You Jim Crowed me before Hitler rose to power, and you’re still Jim Crowing me right now, this very hour. Yet you say we’re fighting for democracy. Then why don’t democracy include me? I ask you this question, cause I want to know. How long I got to fight both HitIer and Jim Crow?”
-Langston Hughes

The following day, we see Joe clean shaven in a taut, starched uniform of the Military Police. Joe once again has a chance encounter with Pasquale, eventually discovering that the orphan stole his shoes. Demanding to know where he lives and how to recover his stolen shoes, Joe makes Pasquale take him to his home. So the two take the Jeep and shortly after, arrive at a cave. Inside, Joe is stunned to see dozens of poor men and women hobbling together what little a life they can in the aftermath of the war. The slum strikes a cord with Joe, it pierces something deep inside him, and upon laying eye on the cave slum, Joe ceases the charge to retrieve his shoes and in the next scene he’s seen driving away.

I must admit, pairing the downtrodden struggles of the post-war Italian poor and a black man returning to African-American ghettos of 1940s is a take I considered too nuanced for any non-black filmmaker of the era. Yet, here we are. The climax of episode two brought me to tears. The arc of understanding between an adult and child, black and Italian, with no common tongue between them is both subtle and bold. As soon as the episode finished, I knew I had a new favorite.

Bombed Out / Undeterred: Italian Neorealist Film

Switching gears, I want to talk about a subject outside of the traditional nerd realm: film, the stuff of olden day geeks. Italian Neorealism popped onto my radar some years back simply as the name of a style mimicked in Charles Burnett’s ‘Killer of Sheep.’ I knew nothing about the genre but it appealed to my pretentious curiosity in that it was both foreign and intellectual. A few later, when I got into French New Wave for basically the same reasons. I scooped as many films as I could get my hands on; most were by Jean-Luc Godard. A spectacle for the eyes, his films often flew over my head, but they were also a gateway into a style and vision wholly new to me as a film lover. So, even more years later, I took it upon myself to really get to know the works of Italian Neorealism.

What is Italian Neorealism?

“The proponents of this politically committed reaction to the glossy, studio-bound, Hollywood-influenced productions approved by Mussolini’s regime were determined to take their cameras to the streets, to neglected communities and their surroundings, to show the ‘real Italy’ in all its diversity. Here was a new kind of cinema, one that returned to its roots, a people’s cinema that chronicled the struggle against Nazism but also highlighted the hardship and upheaval of the post-war period.”
-Pasquale Iannone, Film Lecturer, writer and broadcaster, British Film Institute

This meant a focus on the desolation of the Italian people and Italy itself in the years following the second World War. Scenes shot among the rubble and debris are a defining feature of genre. You would be hard pressed to find a Neorealist film where the characters are not strolling along war-torn avenues or climbing over lumps of shattered concrete. These films focused on issues of poverty and the every day life of the working class and poor. They were a meditation on the process of shifting away from fascism and the literal devastation left in its wake. Neorealist films did not shy away from subjects like infidelity, crime, and prostitution. Directors held a lens up to the seedier elements of society, previously concealed in Italian film during Mussolini’s reign (1922-1945).

I’m attracted to these melancholic films because of their grainy texture and the undercurrents of rebirth. Seventy years after the fact, I know that by the end of the 1950s Italy’s economy will have bounced back and that nation will heal, physically and artistically, in the years to come. But Roberto Rossellini could not see into the future, neither could Alain Resnais or Vittorio De Sica. Standing the literal rubble of a world war, coming down from a twenty year fascist overdose, they saw through the destruction to another Italy, one still in its conception. Our modern era has seen a resurgence of violent hate crimes, racial and antisemitic, along with an ever increasing trend of authoritarian strong men taking power. As the modern era flirts dangerously with the follies of the mid-twentieth century, I look back to the anti-fascist artistic and political movements of the past for assurance, hope, and strategy.

The next few post will be reviews for a few of my favorite Italian Neorealist films.

*PS~ Here’s a great (and quick) video essay by No Film School (video).

Cowboy Bebop Live Action & Casting

A few weeks ago, news of a long-awaited adaptation of the 90s cult classic, Cowboy Bebop, sent vibrations through the internet. Produced by Netflix with Shinichiro Watanabe (original director) serving as a ‘consultant,’ the show is slated to have 10 episodes in its debut.

Debates over the aesthetic, the acting, cultural considerations, and the direction of the shows semi-present story arc are sure to trickle out over the following months. Today, I want to talk about the casting, since this week the character breakdown list which included specific and non-specific directions casting the characters respective ethnicity.

A quick bit about my history with Cowboy Bebop and why I’m excited to discuss these details. I bought the Session 1 DVD of Bebop at my local mall at the age of 13. I was immediately enraptured with it slick animation, its brooding tone paired with fast jazz and traditional blues, its mashing of races and cultures, and the litter of western pop-culture references and nods. A few months later when I’d collected all six DVDs, I re-watched the series, and then again, and again. I would say that by the time I graduated from high school, I had watched all 26 episodes and the movie upwards 15-20 times. Some of my favorite individual episodes pushed 50 viewings and I could recite some of the dialogue by heart. I watched the American premiere of ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door‘ at Anime Expo 2002. To this day, Bebop remains my favorite short anime (Under 50 episodes– my own arbitrary way of categorizing).

I remember during the early 00’s when there was a very real possibility of Keanu Reeves helming a live-action adaptation, wherein he would play Spike Spiegel. Around that time, I was super into Constantine and The Matrix and could think of no better actor to assume the lead role. I mean that genuinely. At that point, Reeves was well accustomed to martial arts training and had worked under some of the best stunt coordinators in Hollywood. To add to that, he even possessed the look of the lanky, apathetic bounty hunter. And Reeves even claimed to be a huge fan of the source material, which as a young nerd was super important to me– he’ll be too invested to fuck it up, I thought. This was years before ‘Ghost in the Shell’ with Scarlett Johansson and a mainstream conversation on whitewashing in film. I was more invested in whether film could capture the rundown futuristic flavor of Bebop.

Years passed and no Bebop adaptation came. Every now and then I still see folks calling for Keanu to assume the role of Spike, which now seems silly since Reeves is 54 (and would play a 27 year old). I’d given up on the hope of every seeing Spike, Vicious, Faye, Julia, Ed, Jet, and Ein on the big screen… or at least my television. But everything moves in waves, especially the pop-culture we consume. So, let’s take a look at the casting descriptions and see why Netflix has in mind.

**No worries. Spoiler Free**

Spike Spiegel

“An Asian (or partially Asian) man in his mid 20’s to mid 30’s and must have athletic ability. Spike is the young and handsome male lead with a body like Bruce Lee. His carefree demeanor hides a seriously dangerous individual. Spike is prone to shoot first and improvise, unlike his more serious partner Jet, but he gets the job done. Spike tries to hide his sensitive side but is a sucker for a damsel in distress and is haunted by his past.”

An Asian guy named Spike Spiegel? Odd, right? I would say, sort of. Traditionally, anime characters come in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and unless specified, are assumed to be Japanese. Bebop, however, leaps regions and intentionally states that it features a clash of cultures. Spike even mentions his Martian birth in the first episode. Being that this is an adaptation of Japanese media, and given the recent backlash another Netflix adaptation received– Iron Fist, which features a white, martial artist protagonist in a predominately Asian setting, its safe bet that they (hopefully) learned and opted for an Asian lead.

In high school, my best friend would argue, convincingly so, that Spike is Jewish. My friend, of Jewish decent himself, pointed to Spikes unruly curls and the surname Spiegel. To this day, if you google ‘Spike Spiegel+Jewish’ it will reveal a wealth of message board debates and websites dedicated to uncovering this possible truth– like this one.

Faye Valentine

“An Asian (or mixed heritage) woman in her early 20’s to mid 30’s and must have athletic ability. Faye is the female lead of the show. She is an attractive bounty hunter with a sharp tongue. She’s a survivor who will con anyone to get what she wants. Faye has no memory of her early life, including family or friends. So, even though she’ll never admit it, she likes working with the other members of the Bebop crew.”

Perhaps its the look of her hair and eyes, but Faye seems the most obvious to me. I’m not so cavalier as to pin any specific nationality to her background, but she reads Asian in her physical features.

I like that Netflix included ‘or mixed race,’ though that could be applied in problematic ways. Being multiracial myself, I’m all for greater representation of mixed folks, though I am anxious that we could end up getting a nearly white-passing actor.

Whoever they pick will carry the bulk of the show’s ‘sex-appeal’ while also portraying Faye’s tragically scattered past. That’s a tall order.

Jet Black

“An African American (or partial African American) man in his mid 30’s to early 50’s. An ex-cop, Jet looks intimidating but is a softy at heart. He became fed up with the corrupt system, but he still catches criminals as a bounty hunter. While Jet believes in the law, he will always back up a friend. Occasionally, he will even relax and have fun.”

Honestly, this reveal solidified my interest in this project. As a teenager, it was a known and accepted FACT that Jet Black was… black. In that same way, that we know Max and Goofy are black. Yes, his skin color is light. Jet, if black, is hella light-skinned. Maybe it was his old head demeanor or his uncle vibes, but we just knew. I mean, you knew that when watching it in Japanese. Switch over to the English dub and Jet is voiced by black voice actor, Beau Billinslea– look at that melanin.

The direction casting is taking makes me so happy. Not only will it mean a black main character, but a black main character among a (potentially) Asian cast. How often does that happen? Seriously! How dope will that be?

Radical Ed

14-year-old girl, must have athletic ability and short stature. Ed is a 14-year-old computer genius and expert hacker whose talents are indispensable. She is extremely energetic with a child-like wonder and is eccentric, bordering on the bizarre.

Interesting that no racial/ethnic direction is given. This seems like a great opportunity to cast an actress of Latinx, Arab, or South Asian decent. Ed’s brown skin and ambiguous backstory leaves the door wide open for all kinds of interpretation.

Surprise me, Netflix!

Vicious

A man in his mid 20’s to mid 30’s of any ethnicity, with pale skin and white hair. Vicious is the merciless leader of the criminal organization known as the Syndicate. He will kill anyone who gets in the way of his business without a second thought.

To me, the casting of Vicious seems directly related to whoever they choose for Spike. If I had to bet, I would say one will be Caucasian and the other Asian. American pop culture loves to play on the whole ‘we’re not biological brothers, but we’re all the stronger because of a cross-cultural bond.’ I’m talkin’ out my ass here, but that’s my prediction. If they cast an Asian actor for Spike, then Vicious will be Caucasian, and vice versa.

Personally, both fit for me. Vicious isn’t derived of any cultural significance, nor are Vicious’ origins known. Whoever they cast better have a deep, brooding voice. That’s all I ask.

Julia

“A woman in her mid 20’s to mid 30’s of any ethnicity. Julia is a sophisticated blonde damsel in distress that has a mysterious connection to Spike. She appears to him in visions and whispers to him about his past. The real Julia is the girlfriend of the merciless Syndicate leader Vicious.”

Lastly, we have Julia– of ‘any ethnicity.’ Personally, Julia has always read white to me but I think this is actually an opportunity to play around with her character. With the only requirement being that she maintains a blond head of hair, I ask, what about a brown skin Julia? Race is in no way integral to her backstory and the direction her arc takes. Why not give the show a bit more melanin?

Conclusion:

There will inevitably be debate, maybe even controversy when the cast is finally assembled– Will it be too white? Not Asian enough? As I said before, I hope that Netflix has learned from the mistakes of the live action Ghost in the Shell, and last year’s Death Note. This will undoubtedly be a show aimed at Western audiences, which while more diverse than Japanese audiences, are still very white. Fortunately, there’s more room for error than say a production of Akira or Spirited Away, which bear a great deal more significance to Japanese history and culture.

“Jazz agers, flower children, lost generation, beatniks, rockers, punks, nerds, hackers, lovers, Generation X – whatever the designation, there have always been outlaws in our society who live in pursuit of autonomy.

The year 2071 AD. That future is now. Driven out of their terrestrial Eden, humanity chose the stars as the final frontier. With the section-by-section collapse of the former nations, a mixed jumble of races and peoples came. They spread to the stars, taking with them the now confused concepts of freedom, violence, illegality

and love, where new rules and new generation of outlaws came into being. People referred to them as…”

Bebop, unlike most of its peers, overtly leans into multiculturalism, it thrives on it. In our current climate, where actors of color are pushing further and further into the mainstream, this presents a unique opportunity, one that I hope the creative team embraces.

I have got to say, these little details regarding the cast have got me hyped. I’m genuinely excited for whatever comes. Years back, I gave up my purist stance on the anime. I’m just excited for the potential of a whole new generation discovering Cowboy Bebop.

Until next time… See you, Space Cowboy.

Late to the Party: Yu Yu Hakusho is Everything

I started watching Yu Yu Hakusho on VRV, two months ago, partially because of the impending split with Funimation, but most because of @BlackGirlsAnime‘s deep and ceaseless love of the anime/manga– you should be following her. Foolishly, I thought I could marathon 112 episodes in 3-4 weeks before VRV lost the rights to the anime– don’t worry, every episode is on Hulu, now. Two months later, I’m halfway through the anime… and loving it.

The motivation for writing this piece came when I realized how little credit I have given to Yu Yu Hakusho, and how much it deserves– basically, I’ve spent years heaping all the praise on Dragon Ball Z for creating most of the shōnen archetypes and tropes. I know I’m about two decades behind but I would like to talk about why Yu Yu Hakusho is great and why it’s so important. I will draw some (loose) comparisons to subsequent manga/anime.

Written and illustrated by Yoshihiro Togashi, Yu Yu Hakusho debuted in November 1990 in Shueiesha’s Weekly Shōnen Jump. It follows the adventures of 14 year old Yusuke Urameshi who gives his life to save a little girl from getting run over. He’s revived by Koenma, prince of the spirit realm, who deems him good Spirit Detective material.

Yusuke wastes no time delving into the business of spirit detectives. Along his foray into the world of yokai, he is joined by longtime high school rival Kuwabara, and the demons Hiei and Kuruma, the four form bonds that transcend the human, demon, and spirit realms.

Related image

**Warning: Mild SPOILERS AHEAD.**

One thing I love about Yu Yu Hakusho, and this was pointed out to me by someone else, is how it displays positive male-male relationships and rivalries. Hiei, Kuruma, Kuwabara, and Yusuke dedicate substantial amounts of time to be their training, each is in their own pursuit of strength and skills, this is just as it is in many shōnen anime. What separates Yu Yu Hakusho is the degree to which the main character support and nurture the talents of their peers. Prior to the Dark Tournament arc, the four warriors come together and from then on, they function as a group– each member is as critical to their total success as the next. They are a unit. There isn’t a Goku or a Luffy or a Naruto/Sasuke who run so far ahead of the pack, that the conclusion of each arc depends solely on their might. Yu Yu Hakusho is about teamwork, plain and simple.

Image result for yu yu hakusho gif

I want to pair Yu Yu Hakusho with Dragon Ball Z for a moment because both maintain a massive influence over Shonen manga, the highest grossing and arguably most recognized anime genre in Japan and overseas. Both aired during the same era:

Yu Yu Hakusho: aired from November 1990 until July 1994.

Dragon Ball Z: aired from April 1989 until January 31, 1996.

Both series draw heavy inspiration from Buddhist fables, Hakusho more from the occult, though through their shared inspiration, they also share characters modeled from the same Buddhist deity, Yama.

King Enma (Yu Yu Hakusho)

King Yenma (Dragon Ball Z)

More importantly, both series revolve around young heroes from humble backgrounds who ascend to extraordinary levels of physical strength. Dragon Ball is dominated by muscle freaks who look like they live at the gym. The outcome of any Dragon Ball fight is usually determined by the sheer amount of ki (energy) a character possess– this means that we leave some of the well known Dragon Ball characters in dust, fairly quickly. If Dragon Ball Z was a band, Goku would be the front man the people paid to see– think Mick Jagger (Rolling Stones), Micheal Jackson (Jackson 5), Beyoncé (Destiny’s Child). Whoever joins him in a fight usually serving to demonstrate how necessary Goku is to their survival. This isn’t the case with Yu Yu Hakusho, which features smaller, more unisex heroes working in a very collaborative effort. The moment I realized it wasn’t just a show about pummeling another brawn baddie came with Master Genkai’s passing. Using Togoro, a former ally, who in a mad quest for power relinquishes his humanity to transition into an ageless demon, as a cautionary tale, Genkai warns:

“Listen to me Yusuke. Everyone must fight against time… he ran away from that fight. He threw away his pride, his soul, and his friends… don’t make that mistake, Yusuke. You are not alone, don’t forget who you’ve become strong for.”

Image result for toguro gif

None of this is to disparage the Dragon Ball franchise, which I love and is the very thing that got me into anime in the first place, but to say that watching Yu Yu Hakusho has given me a greater understanding of some of my favorite anime that developed in its wake like Naruto, Hunter x Hunter, One Piece, Bleach, and Inu-Yasha.

Follow along as I make (loose) comparisons.

Writer & illustrator Yoshihiro Togashi would go on to create and helm the massively successful and influential Hunter x Hunter, featuring a protagonist (Gon) with wielding a fishing rod as a weapon and tool of spiritual divination. We meet a proto-version of his character in the much less likeable Ura Urashima, during the underworld tournament in Yu Yu Hakusho.

Ura Urashima (Yu Yu Hakusho)

Gon (Hunter x Hunter)

Before the brooding, raven haired Uchiha Sasuke arrived on the scene in Kishimoto Masashi’s Naruto, there was the demon, Hiei. Masashi has openly stated his affinity for Yu Yu Hakusho and stated that it was an inspiration for Naruto.

In 1994, Shōnen Jump premiered Rurouni Kenshin, a manga about a wandering ronin called , who has left a life of death behind him in search of redemption. Himura Kenshin is a soft spoken, red haired warrior with a cross shape scar across his face. Sound familiar? I don’t know if this was intended, but seeing as how both appear in the same publication, there’s definite grounds for probing.

Kuruma

Himura Kenshin

Inuyasha debuted in 1996 through Weekly Shōnen Sunday. It featured a half human/half demon protagonist with a familiar likeness. Though both Kuruma and Inuyasha borrow from the same occult mythology, it can’t be denied that Rumiko Takahashi’s Inuyasha and Sesshomaru bears a striking resemblance to Kuruma’s Demon Fox Form.

Kuruma (Yu Yu Hakusho)

Inuyasha (Inuyasha)

Kurapika, a main protagonist in Hunter x Hunter, Yoshihiro Togoshi’s massively successful follow-up, is said to be heavily inspired by Kuruma. Both are boy prodigies, both are androgynous, both are exceptionally intelligent, and soft spoken. Kurapika wields a magically imbued chain, whereas Kuruma wields a rose whip.

Kuruma

Kurapika

Kuruma is also the name of the Nail Tailed Demon Fox in Naruto. This is said to be a nod to Yu Yu Hakusho.

Image result for kurama naruto gif

Conclussion:

When paired with some of its modern successors, Yu Yu Hakusho’s animation may feel dated– more so in seasons 1 & 2. It may feel a bit like going back to the fundamentals for younger anime fans, but I can’t stress how worth a watch it is. This is an anime that leaves you feeling good. Think of it like listening to your favorite band’s favorite band. Neither is Yu Yu Hakusho a case of static characters. Throughout each arc, we see each character pressed and forced to make tough decisions. Often, they must put aside their personal well-being in favor of the survival of the group.

If you’re looking for a show to binge, this winter, look no further than Yu Yu Hakusho.

Image result for yu yu hakusho

Remembering Stan Lee

Last week saw the passing of a legend and a founder. We lost Stan Lee. His passing was marked by an outpouring of grief the world over. For the mind that gave us Spider-Man, Iron-Man, Hulk, and the X-Men was no more. My social media feed was immediately flooded with tributes and collective mourning.

To be honest, Stan’s passing was something I mentally prepared for years ago. Like my great-grandmother, he reach his nineties. Any time someone makes it that high in years, grief over their passing feels inappropriate, though I’m in no way judging others for their reaction. Now that we are able to see the complete arc of his life and career, it’s really beautiful. To go from spitting out serialized heroes in an burgeoning industry for peanuts to seeing his characters take flight as a multi-billion dollar industry ranging from countless movies, to television shoes, to toys, costumes, and board games… I can’t even imagine.

Image result for spider man animated 1994 stan lee — Stan Lee cameos in the series finale in 1998

My first memories of Stan were in the 1994 animated Spider-Man series. His distinctive voice, frames and mustache would become as recognizable as the blue and red Spider suit we’ve all come love over the years. I’ll always remember putting in the Spider-Man game for the Nintendo 64 and hearing Stan announce,

“Welcome, True Believers and newcomers alike! Spider-Man co-creator Stan Lee here. Once again we find our hero Peter Parker, better known around the world as the amazing Spider-Man, in a heap of trouble. But this is just the beginning, Spidey fans. So get ready for a true superhero action thriller, packed to the brim with thrills and chills, twists and turns, more super-villains than you can shake a web at, and of course, non-stop web-slinging, wall-crawling action.”

In the years after, myself and millions of others would come to lovingly anticipate his cameo in every big screen adaption of Marvel heroes.

Here’s my Top 5:

5.) Spider-Man 3 (2007)

“You know, I guess one person really can make a difference…
[pats Peter Parker on shoulder]
‘Nuff said!

4.) Thor (2011)

This is the one where Stan tries unsuccessfully to pull Mjolnir (Thor’s Hammer) in his pick-up. The tug ends up ripping the back end of his truck off, but Stan don’t care.

3.) Captain-America: Civil War (2016)

The gif says it all. I will never get tried of Tony Stark burns. I literally burst out laughing the first time I saw this.

2.) The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)

No words, just sweet ignorant bliss. I love the perspective in this scene. We get the classic wall-crawler moves, as Peter, quick and nimble is able to flip and maneuver around the room with one eye on the villain and the other on the innocent bystander. Ol’ Stan exits without the faintest clue.

1.) Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)

After Janet van Dyne (Wasp) shrinks his car, Stan dryly laments, “Well, the 60s were fun, but now I’m paying for it.” This has me crankin’ up whenever I think of it. I don’t know if it’s the absurdity of the 60s only catching up with him in 2018, or the implication that Stan Lee was tripped out on LSD and cannabis in the 60s, or simply that Stan resigns himself calmly to mishap. This one really got me.

Conclusion

I don’t want to get into the battle for Stan Lee’s estate or his ancient feud with Spider-Man co-creator Steve Ditko, but I’d encourage you go down those rabbit holes. Nor do I want to delve into his disappointing take (in 2015) on re-imagining Spider-Man as someone other than white and heterosexual. The man had his flaws that I’m sure some talented director will dive into in a future biopic. Today, I’d like to honor him.

Stan,

It’s not often someone dies and leaves an entire multiverse behind. I am so infinitely indebted to the work you’ve done, Mr. Lee. Since I was a little boy your heroes have provided me with adventure, thrills, values, and inspiration. your distinct vocal tinge and iconic aviators will be missed, but you’re on another plane now.

Farewell!