Gods and Men – God of War, Quarantines, and Interrupted Journeys

“Do not mistake my silence for lack of grief.” – God of War

As I walked toward my audition, I couldn’t help but notice how empty Times Square was. It was the first truly beautiful day of the year, but people were unnerved by the specter of Covid-19. I understood. My pockets were filled with disinfectant wipes that I ran over every surface I touched. I avoided crowded elevators. Still. We felt somewhat prepared. My wife and I moved to New York in early February but were getting our feet under us. We knew the neighborhood, had a stash of non-perishables and, thanks to the concerns of my public-health-nurse mom, were stocked with enough hand sanitizer to fill a bathtub. I thought we were ready, but there was a nagging feeling that I couldn’t quite write off as simply a product of my nervous nature.

Four days later, our entire apartment was packed and we were driving to Kentucky. It might sound indulgent to say the whole ordeal felt harrowing, but even as we spent the sixteen hour drive listening to our favorite podcast with our cat on our laps, neither my wife or myself could shake the feeling that there was a monster over our shoulders. We arrived at three in the morning, unpacked the rental car, and collapsed in my childhood bedroom.

The next couple of days passed very quickly. We caught up on sleep. I finished some scripts that were due. I shouted upstairs at my dad and stepmother about what they were watching on television to try and keep some sense of normalcy. I felt very grateful. I was in a safe place with people I loved. I was able to fully quarantine away from them. My wife and my cat were with me. We were, and continue to be, incredibly fortunate.

But then what?

Against my better judgement, I’ve been an Xbox guy for some time. The last PlayStation exclusive game I played was The Last of Us, when a friend loaned me his system for a month. Dad had a PS4 in the basement and I needed a project. God of War (2018) seemed like a project worth my time. I’ve never played a God of War game, so I didn’t have a real familiarity with the characters. Still, I heard it was great. Game of the year. Why not?

Now comes the part where I feel like I have to talk about the game. This isn’t supposed to be a review, but here’s the long and short of it. The combat is satisfying and visceral. The visuals are gorgeous and detailed. The score is great. The sound design is great. The mission structure, supporting characters, dialogue, all great. Like I said, I had no relationship with the main character (Kratos, a very mortal god), but ended my time in the game as a convert. I couldn’t stop telling people how much I loved this experience. The game is a masterpiece, which made me so thankful because I needed a masterpiece.

God of War is a lonely game. It’s about grief and growth and trying to become a better person despite the history you may be so desperate to escape. It begins with Kratos chopping down a tree. He and his young son, Atreus (Or “Boy”, as Kratos more often refers to him), are preparing a funeral pyre for Atreus’ mother. They go on a quick hunting trip as she burns, and they return to gather her ashes and fulfill her final wish – to sprinkle her remains from the highest peak in all the realms. From that point on, it’s a story about a father and son who don’t quite understand each other. Like most fathers, Kratos can’t help but worry at his son’s perceived weaknesses and the brutality of the world they inhabit. Like most sons, Atreus doesn’t understand his father’s past and wants to live up to Kratos’ standard, even when he can’t fathom why. For the first half of the game, it’s just these two, spending time together and alternating between terror and wonder as their world expands and their relationship deepens.

Terror and wonder, like seeing a titanic serpent rise from a lake and speak to them in a long dead tongue.

Terror and wonder, like walking through a nearly empty Times Square on the way to an audition you didn’t realize would be your last.

Being at your father’s house when you’re past a certain age is a strange experience. Sleeping on a bed that seemed huge in your childhood and cramped as an adult. Posters on the walls of things that were important for reasons you can’t quite remember (Did I even buy Badrock #1?). But there is a sweetness that can’t be denied. Cracking open the copy of A Prayer for Owen Meany I read in high school blasted my memory awake. I’m able to drink the sweetest water on the planet, made so because it was the comfort I found during so many dark nights, half awake and wandering from my bed to the bathroom. My wife and I walked through the woods to the home that used to belong to my grandparents, me pointing out landmarks along the way. The walk is now much shorter than I remember.

Though we have a yard to walk around in, we’re still confined to this place. We are, like most people, essentially trapped. Kratos and Atreus gave me vistas. They gave me adventures and challenges and quantifiable obstacles to overcome in a time when the only goal is to stay inside. Before we left New York, I left our apartment twice in ten days, doing everything I could to stay healthy for an acting job in Arizona that has since been postponed until September. After a near month of self-quarantine, I needed a world of escape and, in my time of despair, God of War provided. I did everything I could to put off finishing the game. In the mornings, I would read through guides that would help me find every nook and cranny of their world. In the afternoons, I would throw myself at the Valkyries, a series of optional bosses meant to test the skills you’ve built in game. At night, I watched the documentary produced by Santa Monica Studios about the development process in twenty-minute increments, and became charmed by Corey Barlog, the creative lead behind this story that took me so completely. But it wasn’t just that I was looking for a thing to do. The relationship between Kratos and Atreus was so genuine; it made sense that they would want to spend time together. So I played. So they could.

I finished God of War and took a breath. I turned to my wife and said, “That was a hell of a game.” It had all but convinced me to switch consoles. I wasn’t going to miss out on an artistic experience like that again. It inspired me and made me greedy to be a part of something as great as this game was (I immediately went to the Santa Monica Studios website to see if they were hiring writers.). It distracted me when things in life had taken a dark turn. It gave me a reason to be excited to get up in the morning and, in the aftermath of our life being put on hold, a reason to get out of bed is as close to a miracle as one can ask for.

Life has been a mishmash of emotions since I took that walk through Times Square. As with most people, I’m trying to find ways to occupy my time. I’m writing and creating while trying to binge art that inspires me (I finished another game last night: Celeste. The metaphor of “climbing a mountain” was made clear by how my hands ached after completing levels. It gave me a personal perspective that I couldn’t get simply by watching Free Solo.). But God of War felt different. It wasn’t a game; it was a companion. A relationship I was able to inhabit as stress mounted all around. 

I mark my life through art that changes me. Buying Voodoo by D’Angelo in high school – watching De La Guarda as a college kid – binging the first season of Succession as my wife and I packed for our first stint in New York. Like that well-worn copy of A Prayer for Owen Meany that I kept in my backpack, they sit and wait for the proper moment to bring you right back to where you were when you first encountered them. Someday, I will play the sequel to God of War and it will bring me back to my father’s basement, unstuck from time; an adult in my childhood bedroom. When the world was uncertain and fearful and I was able to turn to those I loved the most for comfort. To my family, to my wife, and to a story told well. I am so grateful.

The Dichotomy of Midsommar, The Breakout Horror Film Of The Summer (Or Sommar)

Midsommar, Ari Aster’s follow up to 2018’s horror classic, Hereditary, offers a new take on an old trope, but does it do enough to separate itself from his debut? 

It sometimes feels disingenuous to compare a film to its predecessor, but I think Aster himself has set the framework for these comparisons. The two films are inextricably linked, both in themes and in horrific subject matter, but Midsommar also works very hard to differentiate itself from the typical horror film tropes. It is a film with very clear influences (hello Wicker Man), but still manages to throw some good ol’ fashioned original shock and awe our way. 

It’s less of a pure horror movie than Hereditary was, but make no mistake, there’s no lack of utterly disturbing moments. Trust me. And also trust the couple that was sitting next to me in the theater. To think that two individuals could say the phrase, “What even IS this movie?” so many times (out loud and NOT whispering) was pretty staggering. But, at the same time, I get it. There was some STUFF in this movie. 

The initial plot isn’t anything too out of the ordinary. Dumb, belligerent Americans in places they’re not supposed to be is a tried and true horror trope. Maybe there’s something cathartic about watching American dumdums die horrible deaths? Who knows. What makes Midsommar different from those other movies (Hostel, etc.) is that it’s not JUST about Americans being Americans. It dives into so many other ideas not previously explored in the horror genre. 

The prologue introduces us to the protagonist, Dani (played brilliantly by Florence Pugh), as she deals with one of the worst things imaginable in the loss of her whole family. This is the closest Midsommar ever gets to Hereditary. One of the things that made Aster’s debut so heart wrenching and real was how the film dealt with the themes of loss and grief. That was what Hereditary based it’s whole plot around, and what really drove the narrative. 

Midsommar, thankfully, looks at that theme from a slightly different perspective. Yes, we are introduced to this horrible tragedy from the get go, but it doesn’t really ever come back up. Not in the sense that you’d expect, at least. We, as the audience, view everything that happens to Dani through the filter of her tragedy, but that isn’t what the movie is about necessarily. It’s just one aspect of a film that throws a lot of different stuff into the pot. Potentially too much, considering the original cut Aster made was around four hours long. Despite the intimidating two and a half hour runtime, Midsommar (to its credit) is never boring. It’s really an exercise to see how long a human body can remain fully tensed up. By the time the credits finally rolled, I felt like I should have had a six pack, but unfortunately that was not the case. C’est la vie. 

Christian (played by Jack Reynor) is also introduced in this prologue, as Dani’s shitty boyfriend that she has been with far too long. There’s a conversation between the two of them early on that is just as excruciating as any of the brutal violence in the movie, and that’s a testament to the writer/director himself. Ari Aster has said that Midsommar is as much a breakup movie as it is a horror movie, and it shows. Amidst all the intensity and horror, there are moments of Dani and Christian’s relationship that feel as real and as down to earth as any other film. It’s definitely a unique combination of ideas. 

As Dani accompanies Christian and his PhD grad student friends to a commune in Sweden to celebrate Midsommar, things clearly start to take a turn into the more traditional anxiety of horror films. But thanks to that masterful prologue, everything that happens is seen through the eyes of Dani and her trauma, which makes for a chillingly effective movie watching experience. 

What’s most impressive, possibly, is the fact that this is a horror movie that takes place almost entirely during the day time. That is never an easy task, and Aster succeeds by slowly building the tension and unease to an almost unbearable level, all in full sight. He never uses darkness to hide anything (and I mean anything) from the audience, and I have to begrudgingly respect him for such a bold choice. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see an uptick in brightly lit horror movies over the next couple of years, considering how striking Midsommar is.

One aspect where Midsommar differs greatly to Hereditary is in its humor. I can’t remember a single moment where laughing felt at all appropriate during Hereditary, but there were multiple moments throughout Midsommar that made the audience actually laugh out loud. It really is surprisingly funny, and the actors help accentuate the well-written dialogue with solid deliveries. Later on in the movie, there were other moments that elicited some uncomfortable laughter from the audience, myself included. Those later moments of laughter were more of a coping mechanism for the fever dream material we were seeing on screen. Sometimes, laughter is all an audience has, so I don’t fault anyone for the occasional chuckle, especially considering the images they were seeing. I accepted a long time ago that not everyone is a desensitized robot like myself. 

The thing that excites me the most about Ari Aster’s first two films is that I can never seem to stop thinking about them. Whether I’m trying to wrap my brain around the plot or process my own thoughts on loss and grief, something about these films just resonates with me. That makes me incredibly excited (and a little uneasy) to see what kind of existential dread Aster is going to make me feel next. 

Oh yeah, and thanks to Midsommar, I have no plans to try psychedelic drugs any time soon, so to any friends who want to trip on a commune in Sweden, I’ll have to pass. Sorry (not sorry).

When Found Footage Found Me: Revisiting The Blair Witch Project, Twenty Years Later

Camping is an activity that I do once every few years. I’ve learned that I love my comforts, and that includes things like air conditioning and beds, so camping is generally reserved for special occasions (birthdays, bachelor parties, etc). Thankfully, I almost always have a pleasant time, even though I’m ready for my own bed by the end of it. Regardless of all of that, however, is the fact that every single time I go camping, certain scenes from a certain movie dominate my brain. That movie, of course, is The Blair Witch Project, the famous horror movie that I first watched about ten years ago during my senior year of high school. Since that fateful night, the film has remained one of my absolute favorite horror movie experiences. 

This week marks the twentieth anniversary of the seminal found footage movie, and it just felt right to revisit my experience with the film that essentially created its own subgenre and spawned countless copycats, both good and bad. 

There are very few instances in my life that I wished I was older than I actually was, but I really do wish I could have experienced the cultural chaos of Blair Witch at a proper age. In 1999, I would’ve only been eight years old, and still many years away from actually enjoying scary things. Despite missing that aspect of the film, I’ve always loved reading all about the guerilla marketing behind the film and the fact that yes, many people did think they were actually watching a documentary involving real death. It’s so difficult to imagine something that insane happening in 2019. 

Let me take you back in time for a second. Ten years ago, to be exact, when I was living in the middle of nowhere in Georgia, out in the boonies (shout out to the city of Monroe, pronounced MUN-roe). Monroe wasn’t exactly known for its variety of things to do, although there was a Wal-Mart and a Blockbuster about a twenty minute drive from our house. I probably would have been around seventeen at the time, and so I began what would become a weekly cycle of making that drive to Blockbuster, renting a couple movies, and rinse, wash, repeat, etc etc. I have so many distinct memories of roaming those aisles, just browsing and taking way too much time to pick something out. It’s a curse of mine. 

Having never previously been a fan of horror movies, or even anything remotely scary, I very slowly began to work up the courage to rent something from the dreaded horror section of that Blockbuster. Finally, I decided to bite the bullet and rent a scary movie, despite my brain telling me we wouldn’t sleep for weeks. I’d heard the basics of The Blair Witch Project from one of my older brothers, because he was a big horror buff, so I went with that one. Since I’m a sucker for a great movie watching experience, I turned off all the lights in my room, took a deep breath, and began what would be the first of many viewings of Blair Witch. I don’t think I breathed again for the entirety of its hour and a half runtime, but in the best way. It was so exhilarating. And it felt so REAL. Of course, I knew it wasn’t, but still, there was something so punk rock about it. The shaky camera. The improvisational vibe. The building of the tension. The horrifying final ten minutes. All of it. I went on to try and convince anyone that would listen to watch it. Only a brave few took me up on the offer. 

During those two years I lived out in Monroe, I couldn’t tell you exactly how many movies I watched, but it was … a lot. Like I said, there wasn’t much out there. Despite all that, I can’t say a single one affected me as much as Blair Witch. It opened my eyes to a whole genre of movies that I hadn’t given a chance. I quickly began to work my way through the admittedly understocked horror section at Blockbuster until I had watched all of them. I learned just how many BAD horror films existed, but also found a good amount of unique and creative stories that I still love to this day. Not to mention all the goofy 80’s horror and Hitchcock classics that I grew to appreciate and enjoy. 

I credit my time in Monroe as a big reason that film is such a huge passion of mine. That’s not a sentence I ever could have imagined typing out ten years ago, mostly because I truly hated living out there. Looking back, though, I found a passion while I was in Monroe, and I have to be eternally grateful for that. 

I imagine I’ve watched The Blair Witch Project probably ten times or so since then, and it continues to be such an enjoyable watch for me, particularly if I’m watching it with someone who hasn’t previously seen it. Nowadays, there are few things as enjoyable (and rare) as watching a truly unique horror film. They’re out there, for sure, but sometimes ya gotta dig a little deeper to find the good ones. 

There are only a select few films in life that make an impact like that, and I’m excited to continue thinking I’m safe when I go camping, despite my brain doing its best to convince me there’s a witch right outside my tent. So, thanks Blair Witch Project. 

(for real, though) ...

Avengers Week - Captain America: A Tree Beside a River of Truth

Welcome to Avengers Week here at Mirror Box! Each day, we’ll feature a piece from our incredible writers that highlights each original member of the iconic team and discuss the cultural impact and relevance these characters have on the big screen! As a fitting end to our series, Jacob York gives us his take on the first avenger himself, Captain America!

It’s cool to be cynical. The stakes are lower. If you appear to not care about the outcome of most decisions, or feel like they’re out of your hands, you don’t run the risk of disappointment. It’s a very human reaction to the modern world, when we’re all under someone’s thumb. 

That’s not how most of us work, though. Despite our best efforts, we care. We keep showing up for the beating we know we’re going to get because it’s the right thing to do. We’re put together to give a shit.

Captain America has rarely been cool, but he has always given a shit. 

I tend toward folks some people think are “vanilla”. What’s so funny about truth, justice, and the American way, right? And we could talk all day about the image America projects into the world as opposed to the stark reality we live with, but superheroes are supposed to be aspirational. As with any comic book character, Captain America has served at the whims of his creators since his debut in 1941, but Cap’s North Star has always been his standing up for the downtrodden, fighting for justice, and finding good when surrounded by darkness.

Comparing movie Captain America vs. comic book Captain America is a fool’s errand for me, even though that’s the assignment. My heart keeps pulling back to the core of the character, found throughout all media. Perhaps that’s why I find Chris Evans’ portrayal so successful. His career started as a face on Mystery Date 2000 (Thank you, Twitter…). After a series of comic book projects of varying success (it’s truly gobsmacking that he was in two Fantastic Four movies.), he found the part that has defined his career to this point.

I have trouble talking about Captain America without bringing up the other “vanilla” superhero du jour. I’ve always been convinced that if you could make one comic book character real, you would want to pick Superman. A benevolent god whose internal compass drove him to do everything he could to make the world a better place. Cap is the version of this that you can touch. He’s obviously a super soldier, but he can be defeated by conventional means as opposed to rare minerals from his home planet. Superman is, at its heart, the idealized story of the immigrant, coming to a new land to make a new life, the world prospering in response. Captain American, though, is the story of what any of us could be. Steve Rogers’ superpower was never his ability to throw a shield or bicep curl helicopters (though, those things certainly help …). It was the same grit and determination to stand up to bullies that was ground into him in as a kid in Brooklyn.

I don’t have any interest in recapping movies you’ve already seen, but it’s worth remembering what happens to Cap from film to film. In Captain America: The First Avenger, he goes from being a short, sickly street rat to an American icon, socking Hitler in the jaw at USO shows and saving the world from a Marvel-ized version of white supremacy and Nazism. He sacrifices himself to save the world and, in a heartbeat, is brought back seventy years in the future. Everyone he knows is gone. His conception of the world is shattered. And yet, he rises to the occasion to lead the team in The Avengers. In Captain America: The Winter Soldier, he gets his first reminder of normalcy; a friend he thought was dead returns. He solidifies his place as leader in The Avengers: Age of Ultron, shows that he’s willing to give it all up in Captain America: Civil War, loses everything he’s built since coming back in Avengers: Infinity War, and finds everything he thought he once lost at the end of Avengers: Endgame.

Captain America’s films are defined by heroism, but that doesn’t mean they’re superhero movies. Captain America: The First Avenger is a war movie. Captain America: The Winter Soldier is a Cold War Era conspiracy film. His humanity allows for a variety of interpretations. I can’t say he’s the audience avatar, but he’s my avatar. The person who is surrounded by monsters and gods but takes it in stride. Not just that–he leads them. 

What do we owe ourselves? What do we owe each other? Those questions live at the heart of Captain America. This character pre-dates Marvel (Timely Comics published his first appearance) and Cap punching Hitler in the face happened a full year before the attack on Pearl Harbor brought America into the conflict. Cap was in the war before America was. Why? Because of what we owe each other–the opportunity to do good.

Cap has changed over the arc of the MCU, but he is still who he always was. The kid from Brooklyn trying to do good. The same as Chris Evans. The same as any of us, God willing. Just trying to do good.

“Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right.

This nation was founded on one principle above all else: The requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world –

‘No, YOU move.’”

-Captain America

Avengers Week - Hawkeye: Eyes, Ears, and Backbone of the MCU

Welcome to Avengers Week here at Mirror Box! Each day, we’ll feature a piece from our incredible writers that highlights each original member of the iconic team and discuss the cultural impact and relevance these characters have on the big screen! In this piece, Sonya May takes a deep dive into one of the most underrated (and underused) characters in the Marvel Universe, Hawkeye!

When thinking of the original Avengers, all too often, Hawkeye is forgotten. But I’m here to set the record straight; as demonstrated in Hawkeye’s arc in the MCU, it is clear that he is the glue that holds the Avengers together. Many tend to overlook him simply because he isn’t a hero with superpowers. Instead, Hawkeye is the most regular human guy out of all the Avengers. In all reality, Hawkeye is the father figure in the messed up family that is the Avengers.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent

We are first introduced to Hawkeye very briefly in Thor. This cameo appearance helps to establish his character as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent as well as his preference for using a bow and arrow while observing from a high vantage point. On the surface, it looks like he’s merely a trusted agent with the best marksman skills. Dig a little deeper and you start to see the foundation of his empathetic and fatherly side being built. Even though he has his bow and arrow locked on Thor at all times, he admits to Agent Coulson that he’s rooting for Thor. It’s likely that he is rooting for Thor because he sees the demigod’s potential, much like how he saw the potential and good in Black Widow when he had been sent by S.H.I.E.L.D. to kill her (which Black Widow admits to Loki in The Avengers).

Loki’s Minion

Admittedly, the worst movie for Hawkeye’s character development would be The Avengers. Even Jeremy Renner wanted Hawkeye to be killed off after discovering that his character was not really going to be fleshed out in the film. While being Loki’s pawn for the majority of the film, Hawkeye is simply being used for his fighting abilities and inside knowledge of S.H.I.E.L.D., which are two character traits already established by his short cameo in Thor. His only ties to the Avengers are his pre-existing relationship with Black Widow and his professional obligation to Nick Fury. Let us not forget that unlike most of the Avengers, Hawkeye is still just a regular guy who is really good at fighting and has keen sensibility. After Black Widow literally knocks the sense back into him, Hawkeye joins the Avengers, mostly because he wants to kill Loki in revenge for having been mind controlled. So his reasoning for joining the Avengers paints him once again solely as a fighter and nothing more. During the Battle of New York, Hawkeye plays a quintessential role, as he perches up high and calls out enemy movements for the rest of the team and defends the city from there. Even though Hawkeye is mostly just set up as a one dimensional character, he can still be seen as the glue that holds the Avengers together. Without Hawkeye, the Avengers were unable to beat Loki on their own, but with his help, they were able to save New York.

Family Man

Finally, in Avengers: Age of Ultron, Hawkeye gets the character depth he deserves. He goes from being just a regular man who has insane combat skills to a man with a heart and family. After the Avengers face a major beat down from Ultron, they realize that they need to get off the grid. Hawkeye has the solution and brings them to a “safe house,” which turns out to be his family home. There the Avengers come face to face with Clint’s pregnant wife and two children. 

Now, we begin to realize how much the Avengers truly do rely on Hawkeye. His wife, Laura, admits to him that she thinks they need him too much and that they may not always have his back in the future. This plays out later in Captain America: Civil War when he gets dragged out of retirement due to his desire to help Scarlet Witch and winds up having to sacrifice himself so that Captain America and Bucky can escape the airport battle, which results in his arrest. 

It is also at the Barton homestead that we learn what he thinks of the Maximoff twins, and it seems like he even has a bit of a soft spot for them off the bat. In his words, they’re just punks. He realizes that they were young and desperate, which made for them to be easy targets to manipulate by the evil that was Strucker and later Ultron. After the Maximoff twins join with the Avengers, Hawkeye truly shines as a father figure when Scarlet Witch begins to have a breakdown, blaming herself for all the turmoil happening around her. Even though the twins are partially to blame, Hawkeye steps up and gives her the pep talk to end all pep talks. He puts on that dad hat and tells her that it doesn’t matter whose fault it is; none of it all makes sense seeing as he’s out there fighting robots with a bow and arrow. Like a good dad would, he gives her the option to stay hiding and her brother will come get her later, or she can step back outside and become an Avenger. That’s a defining moment for the future of the Avengers, and it’s all thanks to Hawkeye. 

Retirement

In Avengers: Infinity War, we learn that Hawkeye bargained with the government, allowing for a real chance at retirement while under house arrest. It is during this time that, dare I say it, shit hits the fan. Now I’m not saying that Hawkeye’s lack of participation in stopping Thanos led to the snap, but I’m just going to put it out there–a good chunk of the time that Hawkeye is around, things get resolved. Such as defeating Loki in The Avengers, convincing Scarlet Witch to join the fight in Age of Ultron, and admitting that in order for Cap’s team to succeed, the rest of them need to be left behind during the airport fight in Civil War. Time and time again, Hawkeye has the Avengers’ backs and the one time he doesn’t, he loses everything.

Ronin

Avengers: Endgame opens on Hawkeye and his family, so right off the bat you know that this is not going to be a happy opening scene. He seems to truly enjoy his retired life, getting to spend time with his family and teaching his daughter how to shoot, but once again, he turns his back and all of that blissfulness disappears into thin air. That’s the catalyst that turns Hawkeye into Ronin. Now, I don’t believe they outright refer to Clint as Ronin after his five year turn to vigilantism and the dark side, but anyone who’s read the comics knows about Clint Barton’s stint as the lone warrior when he joined with the New Avengers. I’m not going to delve into the comics because the timelines do not precisely align, but when we see Clint again in Endgame, he has a new haircut, is a loner, and is mercilessly killing bad people in Japan. So even if he has not adopted the Ronin persona, he is still rogue and clearly not over the disappearance of his family. He hops from country to country, killing all the criminals that got to survive the snap, seeking vengeance and trying to make the world more fair. 

Even when Black Widow appears before him with a plan that could potentially bring his family back, he tries to deny her in fear of becoming too hopeful. At this point, he is truly a broken man. His brokenness is further explored when he and Black Widow go to Vormir to retrieve the soul stone. He realizes that even if his family does return, he’s not the same man, and he doesn’t deserve to be with them. He’s seen Black Widow’s character development, and yet again, he so eagerly wants to have her back. This results in their heartbreaking battle of who should die so that the rest of the world may carry on. Despite their epicly choreographed sacrificial fight, Hawkeye was not able to sacrifice himself in the way he wanted to. He lost his best friend, but regained hope in being reunited with his family. Black Widow promised him hope at the beginning of the film, and through her sacrifice, she was able to give it to him. He may not have been the same Clint Barton as five years prior, but he had something to live for again. 

At his core, Hawkeye is not just a fighter, but also a lover. He has the perfect doses of compassion and loyalty mixed in that help him to be the best Avenger that he can be. He is always dedicated to protecting those that cannot protect themselves and defending the innocent. No matter how much he wants to have just a regular family life, whenever the Avengers are in desperation, he is there for them and always helps them to succeed in their mission with whatever it takes. Through the course of his time in the MCU thus far, we’ve seen him grow from being a focused S.H.I.E.L.D. operative to a selfless Avenger and backbone of their missions. Hawkeye can assess situations in a way that most people and even other superheroes would overlook, so please world, stop overlooking Hawkeye. 

Avengers Week - Thor: Ragnarok and the Hero's Journey

Welcome to Avengers Week here at Mirror Box! Each day, we’ll feature a piece from our incredible writers that highlights each original member of the iconic team and discuss the cultural impact and relevance these characters have on the big screen! Today, Violet Conner takes a deep dive into the God of Thunder, Thor!

Much has been spoken on the myth and lore of the hero’s journey. The archetypal protagonist navigating through miles of mud and mire to reach the pinnacle has been sought, written, and studied for centuries. Joseph Campbell once spoke about it in his book, The Hero With A Thousand Faces: “A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder, fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.”

Taika Waititi’s take on the Marvel character Thor completely embodies this narrative. Thor: Ragnarok meets us where our hero is captured. He’s woeful and musing on his past, but finds the humor in his almost gloomish situation. Which is how all great comedies start–from great tragedy. Throughout the film, Thor dredges through the comparative mythology, an adventure of sorts. Campbell describes these three stages of themes in his monomyth, a simple narratology: 

1: Departure. This is where the hero is called on an adventure. He also has some sort of mentor in this calling. 

2: Initiation. This component “begins with the hero then traversing the threshold to the unknown or "special world", where he faces tasks or trials, either alone or with the assistance of helpers.” He is pursued, challenged, and must overcome an obstacle that helps him reach his highest potential.

3: Return. This is the catalyst. The hero must stand on the bridge of two worlds. He takes his knowledge from the journey and alchemizes it into the zenith of wisdom and spiritual strength. The entire process is to strip the hero of everything that is held dear and close to the heart. The trials and struggles serve as a means to peel each layer, until the very essence of who the hero truly is remains. At the end, it is this naked, weary soul who triumphs in the story.

“The Departure” is at the beginning of Ragnarok. Thor shares how he has nightmares of his childhood home up in flames. A premonition, if you will. The evil devil that has him entrapped solidifies that this will in fact happen.Thor laughs in the face of danger. I want to pause here for a moment: a typical “hero’s journey” encapsulates a hero that starts at the lowest level with very little hope. The classic hero in this narrative generally has some sort of a tumultuous beginning. Yet, this isn’t the case with Thor. If we look at Thor, he had an almost idyllic start. Born with the power to wield thunder, he knew his strength from day one. His father, Odin, gave him a hammer called Mjolni to harness this force. It was when Thor was denied the right to become king over his realm of Asgard, that his journey truly began. In a sense, Thor’s story is almost the “inverse” hero’s journey, starting when he made the decision to fault from his roots.

When we meet our hero in Thor: Ragnarok, he still has a bit of his old ways traipsing around his persona. It’s almost as if Thor knows he can still laugh, charm, and call upon the trusty hammer daddy gifted to save himself from any sketchy situation. Which is true in a sense. Until the wildcard is thrown in.

Thor soon finds his father in exile. Odin is almost delirious, ready for the end of his days. Remember this: Thor views his father as the pinnacle of strength and wisdom. As Thor is almost overcome with grief, Odin shares that there is a long lost sister who is ready to take down Asgard. And, oh … she’s stronger than Thor and Odin combined. This is when “The Initiation” of the story occurs. The lost sister ends up destroying Thor’s beloved hammer and sends him into the abyss of cosmos, one of the nine realms of Asgard. Here, Thor is treated less than human, forced to watch Dharma Initiative-type propaganda videos and then sold as a slave. This is the complete antithesis of Thor’s entire life. He is told he can remain in chains or regain some sort of autonomy by participating in gladiator games. Thor chooses the latter. 

As an homage to 1980’s sci-fi cinema synth score plays, Thor’s beloved hair is shaven right before he enters the arena. All seems at peace when he meets an old friend in battle, until the old friend beats him to the brink of death. The pain pushes Thor to the point of delirium, where he envisions his beloved father and remembers his strength. Ultimately who he is–The God of Thunder. This is the exact moment that Carl Jung describes in his idea of the “center of the field of consciousness”. It’s tapped when all ego is shredded from the psyche. It’s when feelings, intuition and memory collide, the precise moment when the internal meets the external world. The place that Jung calls “the interaction between the collective unconscious and one’s personal growth”. Thor captures this in the arena. 

Until now, he thought his powers were only harnessed by the external. But in his deepest pain, he found the power was within the internal core of his being. Not in the hammer that was given to him. Not in his long, blond luscious locks of hair. But in the center of his consciousness. After this, Thor’s enlightened. He wants to help others become liberated like he is. He chooses to run towards his problems and not from them. But literally, he runs to the very thing that risks the livelihood of himself and his people. This is “The Return”, the catalyst where Thor stands on the bridge into his realm. 

Armed with all of the wisdom and strength he’s gained, Thor confronts his sister, The Goddess of Death. She belittles him, pierces one of his eyes out and tells him he has no right to become king. In the final moments, just as Thor is about to give up, knowing Asgard will go up in flames, he enters the same hallucinogenic consciousness he was in before, envisioning himself at the feet of his father. Odin speaks: “Even when you had two eyes, you only saw half the picture. Are you “Thor, God of Hammers? That hammer was to help you control your power, to focus it. It was never your source of strength.” Thor concedes, saying he won’t ever be as strong as his father. 

The next moment is the moment of all cinematic moments: Odin tells Thor, “No. You are STRONGER.” Thor embodies all of us as a collective. We all have or will embark on the hero’s journey. In the end, it’s that very realization when you’re on the journey of personal growth–when you realize you can see clearer when your body has been broken and that the strength has been inside of you all along. You are more conscious when you surrender the walls of the ego. To lose everything. To break open. To be brought to your knees. To remember the core of your strength ... this is the journey.

Avengers Week - Black Widow: The Strongest Avenger

Welcome to Avengers Week here at Mirror Box! Each day, we’ll feature a piece from our incredible writers that highlights each original member of the iconic team and discuss the cultural impact and relevance these characters have on the big screen! Hudson Phillips gives us his own take on the big screen history of the redheaded (and sometimes blonde) Russian assassin herself, the Black Widow!

Black Widow, aka Natasha Romanoff, aka Nat (to those closest to her), played by Scarlett Johansson in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, first showed up in one of the worst MCU films, Iron Man 2, under the guise of Tony Stark’s personal assistant, Natasha Rushman. Natasha is, of course, revealed to be a SHIELD spy but unfortunately comes off as a bit of a Mary Sue in the film. She’s beautiful, talented, speaks multiple languages, holds her own in a fight against a hallway full of goons without messing up her hair … but there’s seemingly nothing there underneath it all, despite Johansson’s best attempts.

While the character (and the film) left a slightly bad taste in my mouth, in hindsight, I’ve also realized that Natasha is a spy who does what it takes to get the job done and in this case, that job was getting close to Tony Stark, who just happens to be into vapid women (with true love Pepper Potts being the exception). She needed to be a bit one note to get the job done. And if Natasha is good at anything, it’s getting the job done. 

Then along comes 2012’s The Avengers with Joss Whedon at the helm. Whedon has a long history of writing smart and funny and vulnerable women, and he brings a new depth to Natasha’s character in the film. 

We catch up with Black Widow while she’s “working”. Seemingly taken captive, she’s doing what she does best. Undercover spy work. She’s a master of convincing others that they are running the room when she’s secretly in control the whole time, as we see many times in this film. 

In fact, you get the feeling that Natasha never enters a room without guaranteeing she’s in control. When she later goes to recruit the Hulk, she’s prepared with a small army surrounding the building. When she meets Thor and Loki, she tells Steve, “I'd sit this one out, Cap. These guys come from legend. They're basically gods.” She knows her limits. 

However, after the Hulk is let loose on the SHIELD Helicarrier, Natasha is forced to move far past those limits. She finds herself in a situation where she’s no longer in control and coming face to face with the Hulk, she is petrified. Maybe for the first time in her life?

We also learn a bit of her backstory in The Avengers. An assassin in the KGB, Natasha killed the wrong people and SHIELD was tasked with taking her out and sent their top bow-and-arrow sharp shooter (and Nat’s future best friend), Hawkeye, to do it. Instead, he saved her life and recruited her into SHIELD. And for this, she owes him a debt. 

She’s constantly plagued by her past. This “red in her ledger” that she’s trying to wipe out. And this seems to drive her story through all of these films.

Having faced down the Hulk and survived, we finally find Natasha standing side-by-side with her super powered team by the end of The Avengers, diving head-first into fighting aliens. A situation she has zero control over. Control issues feel much smaller when the world’s about to end.

In The Avengers, we learn that Nick Fury, head of SHIELD, has secrets. He keeps things from the team in order to manipulate the results. He is a spy after all. And Natasha, unlike the rest of the team, isn’t phased by this. She understands how the world works. She’s okay with lies. And this theme is fully explored when we catch up with her in Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

There is no truth to Natasha. Truth is fluid. Truth is whatever it takes to get the job done at the time. But, after so many years of living lies, Nat ends up not knowing who she truly is. 

After SHIELD is revealed to be secretly run by the terrorist organization HYDRA, the lack of truth starts to take its toll. Natasha says: “When I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I thought it was going straight. But I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA. I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but ... I guess I can't tell the difference anymore.”

And at the end of the film, she makes a choice to release all the secrets of HYDRA, and therefore SHIELD into the public. Including her own “ledger.” This decision is her ultimate acceptance of who she was and a defining moment in who she’s become. 

We’ve seen Natasha the spy, we’ve seen Natasha the soldier, we’ve seen Natasha the friend. And by the time we catch up with her in Avengers: Age of Ultron, we get to see Natasha, the human being. 

She becomes the one who helps Hulk get back to Banner with her “the sun’s getting pretty low big guy” lullaby. And of course Natasha would fall in love with the one guy who scares her the most. We’re teased of a romance between her and Banner: “He's not like anybody I've ever known. All my friends are fighters. And here comes this guy, spends his life avoiding the fight because he knows he'll win. He's also a huge dork.” 

And in one particularly touching scene, as they discuss their future together, Banner says he can never have kids because of his affliction. And Natasha says she can’t either, having been sterilized as part of her training. “They sterilize you,” she says. “It's efficient. One less thing to worry about. The one thing that might matter more than a mission. Makes everything easier. Even killing. You still think you're the only monster on the team?”

A few people got up in arms claiming that she was referring to not being able to have kids as being a monster, when in reality she meant being made a killing machine, her humanity being stripped from her. Banner and Nat see a reflection of themselves in each other in this way. 

Natasha is softened even more when we learn that Clint has a family. And she is a part of this family, with Clint even naming his unborn child after her (although it turns out to be a boy and the name becomes Nathaniel), and them calling her “Aunty Nat.” 

By the end of Avengers: Age of Ultron, after Natasha has yet again stood beside her fellow superheroes as an equal and yet again saved the world, she takes on a new role–that of leader–as she agrees to whip the “new recruits” of the Avengers into shape. 

In Captain America: Civil War, the Avengers are ripped apart after their actions come under scrutiny as the world continues to lose lives in the wake of their battles. They are asked to come under the guidance of a UN lead oversight committee, or live as fugitives, with Iron Man, War Machine, and Vision agreeing, and Captain America, Falcon, and Scarlet Witch refusing. Black Widow initially agrees, but also finds the grey in the middle, allowing Captain America to escape at a pivotal moment in the film. 

Natasha is in Civil War what we all should strive to be in the world of politics. To be so vehemently on one side or the other means you lose all your humanity, turning friends into enemies. Yet, you’ll notice, the only one who shows up at Peggy Carter’s funeral to be there for Steve, is Natasha. She’s able to do what’s right for her friends, even if it doesn’t align with her beliefs.

By the time we get to the Infinity Saga (2018’s Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame), Nat must face the toughest question of all: What do you do when you are in charge of a supernatural army and even all the supernatural people can’t keep the world safe? Black Widow leads her team to battle … and loses, with big bad Thanos’s snap wiping out half the life in the Universe.

At this point Natasha has given her entire life atoning for her wrongs … and once she’s done that, with interest, what’s she left with? This is the only world she knows. But at some point it went from being a job to being a family. “I used to have nothing,” she says. “Then I got this. This job ... this family. And I was ... I was better because of it. And even though ... they're gone ... I'm still trying to be better.”

She throws herself into her job, leading a team, not just helping the world, but the entire Universe, with the likes of Captain Marvel and Rocket Raccoon under her leadership. And this is her entire world. She is plagued by the snap and feels the weight of it. No matter how many great deeds she does, she finds herself unable to atone for something so massive. Or does she? 

When the two “men” (Ant and Iron) come up with a plan to time travel and collect the stones, it’s up to Natasha and Clint to collect the Soul Stone and undo Thanos’s snap. The two non-super powered Avengers travel to the far off planet of Vormir where they are put to the ultimate test. In order to get the Soul Stone and defeat Thanos, they must make a sacrifice. One of them must die. And after a brilliant, edge-of-your-seat battle between the two of them to commit suicide, Natasha ultimately wins and sacrifices her life for the soul stone. This act saves the world. 

The thing that makes Black Widow such a great character is that as opposed to her other human counterpart Hawkeye (“The city is flying, we're fighting an army of robots and I have a bow and arrow.”), Natasha never once considers that she’s NOT super-powered. She is right there standing toe to toe with them without blinking an eye.

And I think that’s because she does have a super power. That power is her humanity. Her willingness to sacrifice everything for the greater good. Her willingness to put her own desires aside to be there for her family. And that’s something we can actually strive for.

The thing about The Avengers is, I’ll never have a chance to build an arc-reactor, or turn into a green giant, or to be a god. But I can be like Nat. 

Black Widow is our window into this fantastical world. She is human. She is vulnerable. She makes mistakes. But she might just be the strongest one of all.

Avengers Week - Hulk: Always Angry

Welcome to Avengers Week here at Mirror Box! Each day, we’ll feature a piece from our incredible writers that highlights each original member of the iconic team and discuss the cultural impact and relevance these characters have on the big screen! In our next piece, Colby McHugh explores the cinematic career of a certain gamma irradiated individual who could probably benefit from some therapy. Of course, I’m referring to the Incredible Hulk!

“You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”

That famous line has been quoted for almost forty years now, originating in the Bill Bixby led television show that began back in the 70’s, and has since (hopefully) been taken over by the cleverly written line from the original Avengers (2012), in which Bruce Banner quips to Captain America, “That’s my secret, Cap. I’m always angry.”

There aren’t many superhero led productions that have been both successful in the early years of the comics AND still in the modern day.

The Hulk is one of the few. Yes, yes, I know he hasn’t had a solo movie since 2008 and probably won’t anytime soon, but he’s still an integral reason that the films he does appear in are so successful.

Bruce Banner has had one of the stranger cinematic histories of the Superhero Age of movies. His first appearance in film was Ang Lee’s Hulk, which I’m shocked to say came out all the way back in 2003. I was very much a child back then, so it’s crazy to think that the Hulk has more or less been in the consciousness for nearly twenty years, and most of my life.

Back then, the only other superhero movies with any critical acclaim were Spider-Man and the X-Men franchise. Daredevil, an unfortunate Ben Affleck led film, also came out in 2003, but the less said about that, the better. (I definitely also saw this one in theaters and liked it, but don’t hold it against me. I was naïve.)

Lee’s Hulk was not very well received and frankly, has not aged very well. Ang Lee deserves some credit though. His Hulk was more introspective and not quite as destructive or violent as he’d previously been portrayed in the comics, and audiences just didn’t get it. The story itself is a bit too convoluted and don’t even get me started about the weird, comic book-y editing. Either way, not the best cinematic debut for our big green friend, despite some solid casting in Eric Bana and Jennifer Connelly as Banner and Betsy Ross.

The next effort, 2008’s The Incredible Hulk, directed by Louis Leterrier, was a shift from Lee’s film in many ways. Bana and Connelly were recast, with Edward Norton and Liv Tyler stepping in. Leterrier, who previously directed the first two Transporter films, certainly had more of an eye for action than Lee had, so the CGI was much more expansive than the last film. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen this one, but I definitely remember enjoying it much more than the first. Plus, who doesn’t love Tim Roth chewing up scenery as the villain? It still wasn’t a huge success with critics though, and I think this was around the time Marvel realized the Hulk wasn’t really built for solo movies.

Thus, his next appearance in the aforementioned Avengers film was a breath of fresh air. Recast yet again, this time with personal man crush Mark Ruffalo. Needless to say, I was pumped. With Joss Whedon taking the reins of the still fresh Marvel Cinematic Universe, it was so refreshing to see both Banner and Hulk play important roles. With all the quippy, clever writing that Whedon was known for, he was able to create scenes and conversations that thrived off of the characters being themselves and interacting with one another. This was the first right step Marvel had made with the Hulk cinematically, and it’s easy to see why they’ve let Ruffalo keep the role. He’s just great.

And with that right step, the MCU almost immediately took a step back with Avengers: Age of Ultron, which tried to cram far too much into a single movie, including a poorly thought out romantic relationship with the Black Widow. It’s not a bad movie, by any means, just not quite up to the level of the films leading up to it. Plus, from everything I’ve read, there was a fair amount of studio meddling that all added up to make Joss Whedon leave the franchise, and eventually help DC finish Justice League.

The Hulk would be entirely left out of Captain America: Civil War for reasons that would be explained in his next appearance of Thor: Ragnarok. This Taika Waititi led sci-fi comedy really opened both Banner and Hulk up to an entirely new style of film that they both were very much able to thrive in. Getting to see the Hulk himself interacting and speaking with Thor throughout the film was such a refreshing change of pace. They gave the Hulk a personality! And with that, it added tons of depth to the internal conflict that he has with Banner; a conflict that would be explored further in 2018’s Infinity War.

Within the first five minutes of that film, the Hulk is beaten SO badly by Thanos that he essentially refuses to make an appearance throughout the rest of the three-hour long movie. That bold choice would allow Banner to be the hero and make his mark on a film that is chock full of superheroes that are interesting in their own right. And of course, being one of the original Avengers, he survives that fateful “Snap” at the finale.

Which leads us into our most recent, and potentially my favorite, Hulk appearance. Endgame deserves credit for MANY unexpected choices (the five-year time jump, FAT Thor, etc), but giving us Professor Hulk was such an inspired decision. As an avid comic book reader, the idea of having a smart Hulk/Banner hybrid is not that crazy to me, but I NEVER expected to see that kind of fan service on screen. And to make things even better, it totally worked, at least in my humble opinion.

Almost every interaction and conversation he has in Endgame made me smile, particularly when he offers Paul Rudd a taco after he loses his own. Talk about a wholesome moment.

With all the characters from Endgame, we don’t really know where this next phase of the MCU will take us, but after seeing Professor Hulk on the big screen, who knows what’s possible!

Are we going to get an Amadeus Cho as the Totally Awesome Hulk? I certainly wouldn’t be opposed. What about Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross as Red Hulk? Ridiculous, but maybe not too far fetched. My hope is that eventually, they’ll introduce She-Hulk, because who doesn’t wanna see a green skinned, super strong lawyer that could kick your ass? I know I do.

I’m pretty excited for the future of the MCU, regardless of what they decide.

Avengers Week - Iron Man: I am Human

Welcome to Avengers Week here at Mirror Box! Each day, we’ll feature a piece from our incredible writers that highlights each original member of the iconic team and discuss the cultural impact and relevance these characters have on the big screen! This first piece is from Alex Oakley, as he takes a deep dive into the hero that started it all: Iron Man!

“The truth is … I am Iron Man.”

Robert Downey Jr. improvised this shocking revelation at the end of 2008’s Iron Man, and set the tone for the future of what would become the most successful and ambitious film universe since Luke Skywalker first stepped out across the sandy Tatooine in 1977. In an interview with Deadline, cinematic-universe-runner Kevin Feige revealed that the improvised line and the success of Iron Man gave Marvel Studios the confidence to take chances and treat the Marvel Comic Universe like guidelines, not scripture. 

Now, 11 years and 20-odd films later, and we’ve reached Endgame–a cultural event so massive that it is a global phenomenon. Avengers: Endgame featured the culmination of the Infinity Stones arc, radical changes to some of our favorite characters, and great successes and character moments for others …

…

…

…

And the death of Iron Man.

The death of the character that started it all.

The end (maybe) of Robert Downey Jr.’s onscreen life in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

From a box of scraps in a cave that saved his life to the snap that ended it, Tony Stark has appeared as a major or supporting character in nine Marvel films (not including his cameo in the post-credit scene for The Incredible Hulk (the one from 2008, not to be confused with The Hulk from 2003 directed by Ang Lee that Monica and I talked about in April on our podcast Shot for Shot which you can check out Here). Arguably more than any other character in the MCU, we have seen Tony Stark grow, and change, and learn, and mature, and suffer. We have seen his character arc in every peak, and every trough. 

And quite frankly, Tony Stark’s arc has been analyzed to–pardon the pun–death:

You can find thinkpieces comparing the rise of Tony Stark to the rise of Marvel Studios; The Washington Post called him the ‘best thing’ to happen to the Marvel Universe; and there are even pieces explaining how he could come back!  (Not that resurrection is particularly uncommon for the superpowered jetset.)

There are pages and pages and pages of world-wide-web-wordsmiths looking at the nitty gritty details of each and every scene. People who binged every movie in chronological order without sleep in preparation for Endgame. I am not those people. I am a 12-year-old who saw a movie in theaters about a Marvel superhero that I kind of knew about but wasn’t super popular, and grew up to be a 22-year-old who cried audibly at the funeral for that same superhero. Discussions of masculinity, emotional imbalance, and a crushing fear that displaying negative emotions in any context will label me as ‘weak’ all aside, I don’t cry often. Particularly at movies. I can count the movies that have made me cry on one hand, and most of them center around the death of a dog. (Here’s lookin’ at you, Marley & Me.) So why, all of a sudden, did I, and countless other Marvel fans in movie theaters the world over find ourselves crying at the death of the character? Crying at Pepper Pots sending the ARC reactor out onto the lake by their cabin? Crying at Happy telling Morgan Stark how much her father loved cheeseburgers? What about Tony Stark got us so heavily invested? The character arc of Tony Stark has been, and will continue to be, analyzed literarily, narratively, and figuratively until the end of time. But I think what often gets overlooked in these nitpicks and video essays is not how Tony Stark changed and evolved from Iron Man to Endgame, but what that change means to us as an audience. Why did we feel so strongly about the death? Why was his change in Iron Man, and in Civil War, and in Endgame so impactful to us.

A film is a narrative. It has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Point A to point B. The protagonist starts one way, evolves through the narrative crucible, and comes out the other side changed. And that’s it. That was Iron Man. But then Iron Man 2 rolls off the assembly line. Point A for Iron Man 2 is not Point A for us or Tony Stark. Suddenly it’s Point C. We begin the film with knowledge of and investment in Tony Stark. But this is not unique. 

What makes our investment in Stark at the beginning of Iron Man 2 any different than our investment in Woody and Buzz in Toy Story 2? Or Luke in The Empire Strikes Back? The short answer is that it isn’t. But after Iron Man 2, Tony Stark truly begins to tread on untested Hollywood ground. The Marvel Cinematic universe expanded beyond the scope of the Iron Man films, and we see the origins of Thor, and Captain America. And then we get the big fish: The Avengers, an ensemble movie FOUR YEARS in the making. (It seems almost silly to think about how ambitious this was in 2012.) Avengers was new, exciting, and different. And while we still get to see our swaggering Stark take on Loki and the Chitauri, he is sharing the screen for the first time with a full roster of costumed crime fighters and super geniuses. He is still a main character, but he is no longer the main character. We see him grate with Captain America and Thor and Hulk and Fury. We get the famous “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” line. We get all sorts of trials and tribulations for our super-roster that culminates in the splash-page-like panoramic shot that defined the Battle of New York for us. And at the end of it all, Iron Man has become a leader, a fighter, and more of a hero than ever; willing to sacrifice himself for the safety and survival of mankind. And then they go get Schwarma.

Then comes Iron Man 3. A radical shift in the Iron Man film MO. Tony’s confidence is gone. He is paranoid. He is suffering from PTSD brought on by his near-death experience destroying the Chitauri mothership in the Battle of New York. The events proper of this film aside, what makes Iron Man 3 stand out amongst Iron Man’s arc for us as audience members is that we see him truly suffer as a human being. Not suffer as a genius. Not suffer as a man in a super-powered suit of armor. But suffer as a man, as any of us could, and many of us may have suffered. We see Stark grow in Iron Man 3 in ways that we haven’t gotten to see any of our other heroes change yet, because here, he grows not only through external conflict, but through internal conflict that occurs on a much more personal level than the normal subset of superhero problems.We get to see how this internal change further affects him in Age of Ultron, in which Tony actually manages to create the villain in an effort to protect Earth from another invasion. 

However, I think what truly was able to cement Tony Stark into the heart of Marvel’s audience, after all of this, is that Age of Ultron marks the moment in the MCU where Stark is no longer our central protagonist. Following Age of Ultron, Tony Stark appears in four films: Captain America: Civil War, Spider-Man: Homecoming, Avengers: Infinity War, and Avengers: Endgame. Civil War and Homecoming are where Tony Stark really evolves from a superhero protagonist to a well-rounded character developed beyond the scope of any character in a film universe we’ve seen.

 Let’s start with Civil War. The protagonist of Civil War is Captain America, clearly. And we know that, from behind the scenes of it all, Helmut Zemo proved to be the puppetmaster antagonist. Yet, even with all the manipulation, Civil War gave the audience a rare opportunity–to see Tony Stark as an antagonist. I’m not saying Iron Man was a villain in Civil War, but I am saying that he was directly against the ideology of the protagonist of the film, and served as an obstacle for Cap and Falcon. We got to see Tony play the bad guy. 

On the absolute inverse of that, we have Spider-Man: Homecoming, the not-an-origin story for Tom Holland’s plucky portrayal of Peter Parker that we were introduced to in Civil War. Here we see a penultimate new development for Tony Stark. The audience has gotten to see him as a playboy, a genius, a protagonist, a hero, an antagonist, and now we get to see him as a mentor. This movie cements a new kind of relationship for Tony, one that ages him, and makes him very different from the womanizing, high-roller we first met in 2008. We all know we gasped when Tony actually stepped out of the Iron Man armor to chastise Peter before taking away his suit for his recklessness, leading to a much more stressful and high stakes final battle with the Vulture.

This relationship is further fleshed out in Infinity War, where suddenly Tony finds himself not only a mentor to Spider-Man, but a protector, as they both become stranded on Titan and have to face down Thanos with Doctor Strange and the Guardians of the Galaxy. A role which he fails as Thanos defeats them, takes the time stone from Strange, and finally, the mind stone from the Vision, and snaps. Successfully eliminating half of all life, including Peter Parker, from the universe. We all know how harrowing it was to watch “Mr. Stark …. I don’t feel so good” in theaters in 2018.

And then we get to Endgame, with what proved to be the most heartbreaking (for us) development in the life of Tony Stark yet–fatherhood. If you, like me, went in to Endgame with the sneaking suspicion that the MCU was gonna have to lose either Cap or Stark, the reveal of little Morgan Stark, as cute as it was, dropped a rock in your stomach. Tony was willing to sacrifice himself at the end of Avengers back in 2012, so how could it be possible to make it more difficult for him to be willing to do it again in Endgame? Morgan. Give him something that he never had that truly could bring him to doubt the worthiness of sacrifice. Early on in Endgame, it does. Stark refuses to take part in the Time Heist because while he is still the hero that we have known and loved for over a decade, he is that hero with a child. A family. A cabin on the lake with his wife and his child. Unlike Natasha, unlike Clint, unlike Cap, the Iron Man we see in Endgame moved on. He found happiness through it all. He was lucky, and we got to be there with him. 

What made Stark so different from any other character in the MCU, or in any film franchise ever at this point, was not that he appeared in more movies, or had the best lines or the coolest fight scenes or the most interesting conflicts–it was that we, the audience, got to see so many different facets of him grow and change over a decade. Eleven years is a long time. No one is unchanged after eleven years, which means, more than any other character on screen, we didn’t just get to watch Tony Stark grow and change, we got to watch him grow and change with us. As our hero, our mentor, or our friend. And now we have to go on without him. But we will, just like the MCU will. We will go on knowing that we are all the better for having had Tony Stark on our silver screens.

Mirror Box Podcast Ep9 - Geek Out: Independence Day

Alex and Monica geek out over the 90s action flick masterpiece INDEPENDENCE DAY (probably maybe possibly the greatest patriotic film of all time).

Now available on…

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The Umbrella Academy: Celebrating The Unconventional Family

The comic book series, The Umbrella Academy, is the brainchild of writer Gerard Way (also the lead singer of My Chemical Romance) and artist Gabriel Ba. The tv series, now shooting its second season, took the comic and expanded the story with Steve Blackman (Fargo, Altered Carbon) as the showrunner.

This unconventional family is a collection of sorts. Chosen from thousands of children born on the same day, their father ‘adopted’ seven of them from around the world, discovered they each had special talents, and called them the Umbrella Academy.

In both the series and comic, we meet the siblings when they reunite after years of being apart following the death of their father. This reluctant group of super heroes spend more time dealing with their own family dysfunction than using their talents to make the world a better place.

One of the siblings Number 5 (The Boy) can travel through time and comes back with dire news: The world will come to an end in seven days. He sees something in the future that tears his heart out. He is determined to stop it from happening and needs his siblings help. Number 5 wants to save the world. He wants to save his family. 

Number 5’s altruistic request that his family help him save the world, puts them into conflict with who they are as a family, and who they are as individuals. They struggle with their “specialness” - their father having never taught them how to reign in their powers - and are more neurotic than ‘woke’. Their reunion is uncomfortable and fraught with sibling rivalry. Some may argue that they are not worthy of super hero status (they would agree!), and it is a very Eastern spiritual traditional concept that you clean your own house before you make any attempts to tackle the world’s problems. 

Each sibling laments their “ability - all except one. Vanya (The White Violin, Number 7) feels like a misfit among misfits. She wishes to be like her siblings. She is a quiet, unassuming classical violinist who balks at the idea of being first chair because she has been told all her life that she is not special.

We all can relate to that and what happens to her - what we all want personally – the opportunity to prove that we are special, that we have something to offer the world. And that someone in a position of power will help showcase this innate talent. For Vanya, it is a double-edged sword. She is discovered to be the most special of all, but the one person who recognizes it also wants to use her talents for evil. 

Klaus (The Séance, Number 4), a tormented soul, he is able to see dead people and is frequently visited upon by their deceased brother, Ben (The Horror, Number 6). By virtue of their relationship, we get a deeper understanding of the family dynamic. Ben offers Klaus insight into the world around him that Klaus is oblivious to in his constant inebriated state – and it is this relationship that shakes Klaus out of his stupor and … uses his talents for good not for evil. 

Diego (The Kraken, Number 2), the brother who is a master at throwing knives and manipulating objects hurtling through space, seems to be always losing someone. This creates tension in his character. It occurs to me that his super power is not his knife throwing skills but his heart, and is the reason he decides to help Number 5.

The big sister, Allison (The Rumor, Number 3), in the graphic novel alters reality with the truth which is a hope that those of us who think we are “woke” have, that we will always rise to the occasion. The significance of this unusual super power is not lost on me in these times, and the fact that a woman was endowed with this kind of power is reflective of what we hope we would do – cut through the crap of life and tell the truth. 

That’s why in the tv series, it is not far-fetched that she has an over stimulated sixth sense. She worries and frets about the siblings – but Vanya most of all. This character epitomizes the “real” mother the group never had. Big sisters always take this role – sometimes to their detriment. And Allison is no exception. Her “meddling” as Vanya identifies it, kept them separate throughout the years. 

The big brother, Luther (Spaceboy, Number 1), is the most forgiving and therefore naïve of them all, making excuses for their father as to why he performed an experimental surgery that turned him into a “freak” with super-strength. 

Luther becomes the “ideal” father figure, protective, strong, stubborn. His and Allison’s “unconsummated love relationship” echoes loudly the lack of familial stability this unusual family never had with their adult parents. We all want to think our parents have only our best interests at heart, but the UA puts “father” into the villain seat. And the struggle of the siblings to come to terms with their childhood and all it entailed serves as the drama of the graphic novel and series. 

The sweetness and quirkiness of the story comes from the fact that each of them, as they move in the world as victims of villains, have their own personal reasons for doing what they do. And more than anything else, because they feel outside of everything, because they were separated and segregated by their father from the rest of humanity, they have a keen sense of loyalty. The thrust of their action is always: 

Booksmart, And The Generational Tradition It Follows (And Breaks)

Teen comedies are a staple of American cinema, starting way back in the 80’s with the John Hughes explosion and continuing all the way until today with Olivia Wilde’s excellent directorial debut, Booksmart.

That said, these movies tend to ebb and flow throughout the cultural consciousness, making their presence known in some years and completely disappearing in others. As I’m writing this, we’re in a bit of an upswing in quality teen movies, thanks in part to the efforts of streaming platforms like Netflix and Hulu.

Booksmart falls into a subcategory of teen movies that I like to describe as “One Crazy Night” movies. George Lucas’ American Graffiti (1973) was the first teen movie to utilize this idea, with those characters cruising the streets of southern California on the last day of summer vacation. Ferris Bueller was trying to have one last day of hooky before graduation. The 90’s had Empire Records, which had its teens fighting to keep their local record store from being bought by a big corporate franchise and (starting to see a pattern?) only having one night to do it.

Booksmart follows two very smart (duh) senior girls that have spent the entirety of their high school careers studying and making sure they get into a great college.  After a world shattering realization that even the people who partied and had fun all throughout their four years are ALSO getting into those great schools, Molly (Beanie Feldstein) and Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) embark on a last-ditch effort to go and party, find love, and let loose the night before graduation.

I’d like to take this sub-category and specify it a little further, because Booksmart was not the first film to put forth this idea. It follows the schematics first put into place by movies like Can’t Hardly Wait and Superbad. Both of these films involve pairs of outsiders who never partied or had sex in high school and are now about to graduate. With the thought of heading off to college without experiencing those things looming overhead, these characters do everything in their power to have a good time, and possibly profess their love to a guy/girl that they’ve secretly had crushes on for years. And oh yeah, all of this needs to happen before the sun comes up. The parallels are certainly all there.

It’s also very interesting to think how this style of movie comes out almost every ten years or so, starting with Can’t Hardly Wait back in 1998, and Superbad following nearly a decade later in 2007. Almost like each generation of high school students get a movie like this. I was too young to see Can’t Hardly Wait when it came out, so that viewing came much later in life.  

Superbad, however, has a much softer place in my heart. It was one of the very first R rated movies I ever snuck into. I have a distinct memory of buying a ticket for Rush Hour 3 and feeling a very strange mixture of guilt and excitement as I walked into that theater. As poorly as some aspects of that movie have aged, I still love Superbad and all the weird, memorable characters and situations Seth and Evan encounter that night.

Looking at Can’t Hardly Wait and Superbad through today’s cultural lens doesn’t really do them any favors. What it does do, however, is give us a pretty accurate snapshot of those decades. They are 100% products of their times, and that softens the blow a little bit, in my mind. Booksmart does a great job of being very specific in the same ways. It is very much a 2019 film, filled with tons of cultural references and jokes that will almost certainly age strangely in ten years or so until the next great teen movie comes out.

If you had told me the next great teen movie was going to be directed by Olivia Wilde, I might not have believed you. She proved me wrong. So, so, wrong. The directorial choices she makes throughout the movie are really impressive. It’s shot better than a teen comedy has any business being and it just oozes with style. The choice to have those two protagonists be girls in a genre traditionally dominated by sex crazed boys is so refreshing. Last year’s Blockers did something similar, and while it was much broader than Booksmart, it was still very entertaining and funny. I would have included it on this list because it also takes place throughout one night, but the story focuses just a LITTLE too much on the adults for my liking.

Wilde showed the world that girls can be just as vulgar and funny as the boys, and I’m hoping a new trend is starting. Give me more teen comedies involving guys AND girls. Literally everyone can relate to these films in some small way.

Booksmart is not perfect, by any means, but teen movies almost never are. Neither are teens, so maybe that makes sense. The archetypes and characters this genre uses are universal, and will continue to be relevant for years down the road.

There will always be outsiders in high school, and there will always be films made about those outsiders.

I’ll watch all of ‘em. 

Our Favorite Geek-Culture Adaptations

PROFOUND CLARK:

What’s your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

Adaptation. Naked Lunch. Conventional adaptation would be Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

What’s your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Infinity War/Endgame feels like a cheat (prefer Endgame). Before that it was The Crow, I think.

What’s your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

Mortal Kombat

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?

I’d love to adapt Pale Fire by Nabokov. I would love to see the manga/anime Monster adapted as well to live action.

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

Donald Glover

What director would be the best fit for a movie adaptation of your life?

It might take Kaufman to see something.

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

When I learned adulthood was a myth.

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your “core” - the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change?

Like Straw Hat Luffy, I’ve committed myself to a mindless devotion to passion in others as much as, if not more than, myself.

JACOB YORK:

What’s your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

American Psycho because it improves on the book in every conceivable way.

What’s your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Into the Spiderverse made me cry because I saw a comic book on screen for the first time. (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World is also on that list, though.)

What’s your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

SLIM PICKINS, HERE! To my mind, there has not been a truly good video game movie. My answer is Street Fighter, which is great for Raul Julia's unironically wonderful performance as M. Bison.

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?

(Here's a deep cut for you.) Suikoden II needs to be an eight episode mini-series.

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

My wife would say Jason Segel, so let's go with that.

What director would be the best fit for a movie adaptation of your life?

Hiro Murai. He has a way of making the mundane look exceptional.

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

There's just not a lot of footage when you're sitting behind a laptop, writing scripts, no matter how good they are...

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your “core” - the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change?

I hope that I will always treat people with empathy, especially when I disagree with them. I want people to know that I'm listening.

ADAM PETREY:

What's your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

Stalker (1979)

What's your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (2010)

What's your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

I think Super Mario Brothers (1993) wins by default because I haven’t seen any others.

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?  

Slaughter-House 5 by Kurt Vonnegut

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

I’d like to think Jake Glyllenhaal

What director would be the best fit for a movie adaptation of your life?

David Lynch

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

Moving out for the first time in tandem with my first heartbreak.

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your "core"—the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change?

My goals never change. I know what I want which is to make films. It’s just the situation & circumstances that change around me.

SONYA MAY:

What's your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

About A Boy

What's your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Scott Pilgrim vs The World

What's your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

Double Dragon, but only because I had a weird obsession with the movie as a kid, I am well aware that it is not great haha

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?

I want a Fable video game-to-movie adaptation and an A Single Shard book-to-movie adaptation

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

Chloe Bennet

What director would be the best fit for a movie adaptation of your life?

Greta Gerwig

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

When I finally got up the nerve to quit my first full time job out of college with no back up plan. I struggled with on and off employment for the next year and a half, but it's been worth it everyday because I'm mentally in such a better place and am finally figuring out what my true passions are.

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your "core"—the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change? It's my support system, without a doubt. If I didn't have my family, significant other, and those who have been willing to take a chance on me *cough* Hudson, you're the real MVP *cough cough* it would be significantly harder to stay sane throughout all of the changes that life throws my way, from unemployment to dream jobs and moving across state lines, that core of people are truly the core that supports my dreams, align with my morals, and always push me to succeed and I hope they can stay by my side in some way forever!

CK LOVE:

What's your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

Silence of the Lambs

What's your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Wonder Women

What's your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

Tomb Raider

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?

Rachel Rising

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

Alanna Ubach

What director would be the best fit for a movie adaptation of your life?

David Fincher / or / Lynn Ramsey

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

Leaving the life I knew to begin again.

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your "core"—the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change? My silence. I am a very silent and steady person.

COLBY MCHUGH:

What's your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

Lord of the Rings. It really kickstarted my love of fantasy as a young kid.

What's your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Having just watched Endgame for the second time, I'm having a very hard time not picking that.

What's your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

Detective Pikachu. It was the most fun I've had in a theater in a while.

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?  

American Vampire by Scott Snyder and Rafael Albuquerque. Although I think this would work best as an HBO series rather than a film.

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

David Harbour could definitely play ornery, old man Colby.

What director would be the best fit for a movie adaptation of your life?

Richard Linklater because he's able to find stories in the most boring of places, and my life is exceptionally boring. .

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

Ten years ago, when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. It was a real bummer, to say the least.

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your "core"—the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change?

I think my love of stories is what I'll always have to fall back on, no matter what. Movies, books, comics, video games. All of 'em.

MONICA BEARD:

What's your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

Jurrassic Park

What's your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse

What's your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

I don't play videogames, so I don't care much for movies based on them.

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?

The storylines from the Transformers comics (Political intrigue, space adventures, and ROBOTS, HeLLo?!?!)

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

Hear me out, I'd like for everyone in the movie to view me as looking roughly like myself, but for the audience to see me as Colin Firth

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

Probably when I moved away from all of my family and friends for a semester. It was hard but it really worked out.

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your "core"—the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change?

I'll always find ways to connect with people, I don't have to be alone for long if I just reach out

ALEX OAKLEY:

What's your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. I got to see the characters I grew up with in The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings books on the screen and I was amazed!

What's your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. It’s the most Comic Book-y adaptation and how unique is it?

What's your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

Absolutely the Street Fighter movie because Raul Julia’s M. Bison is such a great character that really brings a lot to what is otherwise a just-OK movie.

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?

I would love to see a film adaptation of the Garth Nix ‘Keys to the Kingdom’ series! The imaginative and unique universe would make a really standout fantasy film!

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

Considering I have gotten quotes from ‘The Hangover’ yelled at me in a QT parking lot at 3 AM on multiple occasions, possibly Zach Galifinakis?

What director would be the best fit for a movie adaptation of your life?

Adam McKay, because I trust him to write me some decent dialogue, and I absolutely want bizarre montages representing different aspects of my life a la ‘VICE’

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

Probably College? I know that’s a stock answer but College was such a radical lifestyle and LIFE change. I think In the end I got through it alright!

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your "core"—the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change?

I think it’s always most important to do your best to be kind to people, regardless of circumstances. Never assume the worst of people, always expect the best, and remember that it costs nothing to just be kind.

HUDSON PHILLIPS:

What's your favorite book-to-movie adaptation?

I’m gonna go with two ends of the spectrum here, but I love Pride & Prejudice and Fight Club equally.

What's your favorite comic-to-movie adaptation?

Scott Pilgrim

What's your favorite game-to-movie adaptation?

I’m not a gamer guy, but Rampage was a lot of fun.

What book (or comic or game) most needs to be adapted into a movie?

Machine Man by Max Barry is one of my favorite books and also the most “movie” book I’ve ever read. So if anyone wants to hire me to write that one!

Who would play you in a movie adaptation of your life?

So many liberties would have to be taken to make my life story interesting, but how about a combination of Noah Centineo playing young me and Mark Ruffalo playing old me?

What director would be the best fit for a movie adaptation of your life?

Taika Waititi has such a way of blending wacky with sentimentality.

What moment was most defining, yet hardest to adapt to, in your real life?

Losing my dad at a young age, but that very much put me on the path I am today.

In adapting to changes in your life, what do you consider to be your "core"—the thing that will always stay the same no matter how much your circumstances might change?

I hope to always be creating beautiful things with beautiful people, no matter how big or small.

Adapting Yourself: How Jim Cummings Adapted His Own Short with Thunder Road

I saw 131 movies in theaters in 2018. And another 58 more outside of theaters. It was … a lot. A small part of me still can’t believe that I spent THAT much time in a dark room watching movies, but the rest of me is ecstatic that I got to see THAT many different kinds of stories on screen. I saw movies of all kinds, from blockbusters to small arthouse flicks, but the movie that might have affected me the most out of all of them was one called Thunder Road.

If you’ve never heard of this film, or are only familiar with the Springsteen song of the same name, then you’re in for a treat.

What you see above is the original, almost thirteen-minute, one-take short film that Jim Cummings (the writer, director, star, etc) made on a very shoestring budget after spending a few years in the industry as a producer of other people’s works.

I had the absolute pleasure of seeing the short at the Atlanta Film Festival a couple of years ago and immediately fell in love with this story and this character that Cummings had created. It made me feel so many different emotions in such a small amount of time. I laughed (a lot), I cried (a little), and was made thoroughly uncomfortable pretty much the whole time (by design). All of that added up to become my favorite short film that I had ever seen.

After the festival, I showed this film to everyone I could think of, if only so I could talk about it more. Friends, family, and pretty much everyone I knew was getting a viewing of Thunder Road.

Eventually, Thunder Road faded from my mind into a distant memory. An incredible memory, mind you, but you can only watch a short film so many times, right? Other movies came and went over the next couple of years, and I moved on.

Fast forward to September of 2018, and I’m in the middle of the pointless quest to see 100 films in theaters (thank you MoviePass). Since I’m a giant nerd and have kept track of the dates of each movie I saw, I can tell you that I had seen 91 up to that point. I began my typical routine of checking the local theaters to see what was playing and if anything happened to catch my attention, generally that was how that night was going to be spent.

So when I visited the website for Atlanta’s famous Plaza Theater, you can imagine my surprise at seeing that there was a Thunder Road screening that very night. In my head, I assumed, “Oh, awesome, they’re showing the short in theaters again! Sure, I’ll go see that.”

But upon further inspection, I noticed a runtime of 90 minutes and began to put two and two together.

Had Jim Cummings gone and made a feature length adaptation to my favorite short film I’d ever seen?

Had I really missed hearing ANYTHING about this?

That’s exactly what happened.

I was ecstatic.

Of course, I made my way to the Plaza Theater and enjoyed those 90 minutes so thoroughly that I knew this was going to be one of my top films of the year (a VERY close #2, in fact).

Jim Cummings succeeded in adapting his own work and, almost more surprising, managed to expand on everything that made the original short so great in the first place.

The story itself is a simple enough one. A police officer in the South struggles to deal with his grief after his mother passes away, all the while trying to be a better father to his young daughter. That’s pretty much it.

But Cummings is able to mine this simple premise for so much more than just sadness and drama. It’s also incredibly funny. I found myself switching from crying tears of sadness to crying tears of laughter scene by scene, and that’s a credit to his script.

For some reason, films that are able to successfully toe the line between drama and comedy like that have always really stuck with me. One of my all-time favorite films is In Bruges, if that tells you anything about me. Cummings has said that he got the initial idea for the short film because he wanted to tell a story that was “funny and tragic at the same time,” which he has certainly achieved.

And while the story and script are great, part of what makes this film so interesting is the process of how Jim Cummings was able to turn a surprisingly successful short film into a full length feature, which is a feat only a few filmmakers attempt.

In the two years after the original short was made, Cummings spent his time writing, directing, and occasionally acting in NINE more one-take short films, all the while writing his script for the Thunder Road feature.

Also during that time, he was making his way around Hollywood, trying to secure funding for the feature, but nobody was biting. The lack of a marketable star actor made Hollywood execs uneasy about financing an indie film that few people would see.

Sick of being rejected, Cummings and his producers just decided to make it anyway, on their own. They pooled their money to get things started and set up a Kickstarter to cover just the preproduction costs, set at 10k. They wound up raising over 36k and after that, everything else just began to fall into place.

Because of the success of the Kickstarter, people from all over the world began to contact him, wanting to invest in Thunder Road. The short film, which could be viewed for free online, worked a bit as proof of concept for what they were investing in.

And just like that, the film was financed.

Filmed in Austin, Texas for around 180k, Thunder Road wound up being a sleeper hit and made its money back quite quickly. It was especially popular in France, for some reason.

I can’t say that I know exactly what Jim Cummings is working on these days, but I can say that I’ll be the first in line for whatever it is. I’d also highly suggest following him on Twitter, because Cummings is consistently one of the most encouraging filmmakers on the site, constantly pushing other creative people to pursue whatever their passion is and make it happen.

The perfect example of this kind of encouragement would be his Lab Curriculum for how to go from Short to Feature, just like he did for Thunder Road. Cummings really lays it all out there and he’s not afraid to pull any punches. It’s absolutely worth reading.

As of writing this, his latest tweet is “Make movies however you can” and I can’t think of a better way to end this. So there.  

Adapting to ADAPTATION: Considering a Screenwriter's Middle-Aged Angst

I heard it took three years for screenwriter, Charlie Kaufman (Nicholas Cage), to adapt the book The Orchid Thief by Susan Orleans (Meryl Streep): A nonfiction book from an article Susan wrote for the New Yorker about John Laroche (Chris Cooper), an orchid thief in Florida who used the aboriginal natives who had swampland in Florida to skirt around legalities of his poaching. What was a nonfiction story about an obsession with orchids turned into what is described as a “metafilm” about Charlie Kaufman and his writer’s block. Adaptation. became a story about Charlie’s inability to adapt the “non-adaptable” book into a screenplay.

I was hesitant for a while to watch Adaptation. There were a few things stopping me. One was: Did I need to watch another movie about the inner dialogue of a middle-aged white man? My answer to that question is, “Not really.” The reason being: I am a woman without a voice (at the time especially) in film and theatre, and it was my decision to immerse myself rather in films that relate to me as a woman - at that point in my life, this did not.

But I knew that one day I would watch it because of the kind of film it is. I see its merit in the annals of filmmaking. There’s a lot to appreciate. Charlie is really good at subtext and metaphor. He is an artist. At one point, Laroche says, “Adaptation is a profound process. Figuring out how to survive in the world.” And Susan replies, “Some think that adapting is almost shameful like running away.” These two statements illustrate the inner-world struggle of the two sets of characters in the film: Charlie’s inability to accept conventional storytelling (shameful) as opposed to his brother’s enthusiastic adherence to “the rules” (surviving), and Susan’s denial that her marriage is a sham (shameful), and Laroche’s need to move on from one “passion” to another (surviving).  

Adaptation. is the perfect title. Darwinism is: in order to adapt, a species needs to fundamentally change its makeup to the point that the original species no longer exists. Take the example of the white moth during England’s Industrial Revolution. Over time the white moth became a black moth. Some speculate that in fact, it wasn’t evolution, but rather survival of the fittest. Meaning the black moth had a better chance at survival than the white moth on the black soot covered trees where the white moth got picked off more often than the black moth by its predators. That kind of adaptation is from outside influences that require change on a surface level, survival of the fittest. It’s not the species changing, it is actually the “brother” of the moth taking over. This kind of adaptation is not deep change.

The adaptation required in the film feels like “if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em” - giving in to a status quo or a trope of society that asks you to blend. This is evident in the way that Charlie slowly lets his brother’s (his alter-ego’s) influence in and rewrites some parts of the script. In the end, Charlie accepts his brother (alter-ego), essentially allowing himself to give up on his vision, or lack thereof.

What I appreciate about the film is Kaufman’s invention of his brother/alter-ego to help him tell the story. This technique:

1. Created conflict where there was none. His brother helped to emphasize the story about himself and his rejection of conventional storytelling. Creating the personal conflict. Without it, it is obvious that there is no conflict.

2. Created drama of a bigger-than-life personality which was in stark contrast to that of Charlie’s own self-loathing.

3. Illustrated the theme of adaptation. As the story goes on, we can see that the film takes on characteristics that could only be from his brother’s influence and where he might have edited – especially the ending.

4. The death of his brother could signify the merging or adaptation moment of these two personalities because Charlie does change a little in the end – illustrated by the kiss.

Charlie was mortified to disappoint anyone. That’s what drove him. His inability to act in the world made him ineffectual – in his love life and writing life. At one point, he classifies women as a botanist would an orchid in a desperate attempt to “break the world into bite size pieces to make it smaller,” and more handleable, as Susan Orlean speculated why people become obsessed with things. He resorted to making women objects of obsession so he could masturbate and feel that this is a relationship – similar to the obsessive nature claimed to be the passion of Laroche with his turtles, and then his tropical fish, and finally his orchids. But these obsessions don’t last and ultimately leave us empty. Charlie objectifies Susan to be able to handle the paralyzing fear he had of meeting her. His paralyses created the need to become someone else (his brother), something that he adapted out of desperation and not a willingness to accept the way he truly is.

As spiritual people, experience will tell us that we do not lay down and die to the circumstances of our lives, but rather we become aware of a change that needs to be made and consciously make decisions according to what needs to be done in order to make that change deep and lasting. Awareness. Action. Acceptance. Creates real change. This kind of change or “adaptation” needs a willingness to grow from accepting who you really are because that will increase the quality of your life.

Charlie’s character could only survive this dilemma, this paralysis, his writer’s block, by adapting the bigger-than-life affectations of his alter-ego (his brother). Like the white moth, Charlie as Charlie couldn’t survive his own neurosis or his predators in the Hollywood game like his brother, the black moth, could.

In the end, as an audience member, I don’t relish watching the neurotic inner-dialogue of a middle-aged white man. But as a writer, I appreciate the techniques Kaufman uses to tell an unadaptable story. As an intellect, I am tickled by his wit. As an artist, I resonate with the self-conscious struggle that I and my work be liked and accepted, and to create anyway, in spite of it all.

5 Genre Comics Dying to be Made Into Movies

(Disclaimer: Please PLEASE excuse any overly nerdy writing in this article due to the fact that I’ve been waiting my whole life to write something like this. Thank you for your consideration in this trying time.)

Before we get started, let me say that I’m of the mindset that comic books and film are two entirely separate mediums that I think get compared a bit too often, generally due to the stupidly huge success of Superhero films in the last decade and a half. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love these movies and I’m pretty much going to see all of them on opening night, but it creates the impression among the general public that comic books are simply a vessel to carry Batman and Spider-Man and Friends from story to story, and eventually to the big screen.

But comics are so much more than that. They’re much smaller operations, generally carried out by three or four individuals, and occasionally by only one! The collaboration between the writer, the artist, the colorist, and anyone else involved has to be completely precise in order to properly tell the story in a clear and enjoyable way for the reader.

I grew up reading nothing but superhero comic books, so I have quite a soft spot for them. It wasn’t until after high school that I realized the existence of publishers outside of the Big Two (Marvel and DC). Image, for example, was a godsend for me. I discovered hundreds of comic series, all different genres, and each in their own self-contained universe. No more shared universes! If I wanted Sci-Fi, Horror, Comedy, or even Romance, there were so many options available to me! I began to realize which writers and artists I enjoyed the most and actively searched out their work. Since then, countless genre stories are released each year through many different publishers. That doesn’t even count the probably thousands of webcomics that are posted all over the place! Comic books are everywhere and like all good and interesting things, they are adapted and made into films, with generally pretty good results.

There are always a few comic books that have received that special UNADAPTABLE label from many filmmakers and comic creators (Brian K. Vaughn’s Saga comes to mind), and I always appreciate those stories. They take the elements specific to the comic book medium and expand them. You know what I’m talking about. Whether it’s a specific storytelling technique or maybe the way a panel is structured, there are sometimes things that make a comic so especially comic book-y, it would be incredibly difficult to adapt into a film.

These, however, are not those comic books (except for maybe one, but we’ll get to that later), and by no means is that a bad thing. These are five brilliantly written, drawn, and colored genre stories that I think would also happen to make some pretty kickass movies, presented in no particular order:

WYTCHES

Writer: Scott Snyder

Artist: Jock

Colors: Matt Hollingsworth

Letters: Clem Robins

A gorgeous and haunting cover from Jock that immediately sets the tone for this story.

When talking about genres, it feels disingenuous to not mention the very distinct genre of horror, one that I’ve grown to love after spending many sleepless nights with the lights on as a kid. That said, even though I love horror movies now, I can willingly acknowledge that there are tons of bad ones out there, and more made each year. But with every well-made and unique horror movie that comes out (as rare as they are), I’m reminded of why I love the genre in the first place. Wytches would have that exact same effect on the genre. Imagine the fear and tenseness that you felt the first time you watched The Blair Witch Project, mix in characters that you actually care about, add in loads of interesting lore and history, and you’ve got a recipe for good horror. The witches presented in Wytches, however, are not the witches you’ve come to know and love. There’s no Harry Potter whimsy here. Scott Snyder has written them as horrifying old creatures with ancient knowledge that resembles nothing we’ve ever seen. What really creates the atmosphere of horror though is the work of Jock and Matt Hollingsworth. The art and colors combine to create a very visceral reading experience that is both scary and sometimes disorienting. That uncertainty that they are able to create would translate so well to film, assuming it’s done right. Snyder’s characters are likable and interesting and I’d genuinely be curious as to who they’d cast. Either way, if you’re a fan of horror, check this one out.

FELL

Writer: Warren Ellis

Artist: Ben Templesmith

A personal bias, but I LOVE that almost half of this cover is just paperwork.

I know this is only my second entry on this list, but I’m gonna have to cheat a little bit on this one. Bear with me, because Fell is worth it. Rather than have this adapted into a film, Warren Ellis and Ben Templesmith’s neo noir crime story would make much more sense as a miniseries, more fit for HBO or Netflix or any of the other litany of streaming services. The reason for this is two-fold. First, each individual issue was written as a standalone story involving the titular character, Homicide Detective Richard Fell, set in the unfortunate city of Snowtown. Second, Fell was originally written by Ellis as a way to experiment with the usual comic book format. He and Templesmith created the book with a smaller page count than normal, instead experimenting with a nine panel grid on each page as a way to compress the story and fit more in each issue. It’s such an interesting and different way to read a comic book and that, combined with Templesmith’s especially striking visuals and mood, create such a unique story that would make for a pretty difficult film adaptation. With the success of more recent adaptations of equally strange genre stories like Umbrella Academy and Deadly Class, I’m much more encouraged by what is possible in the world of television and streaming. I can actually thank Mirrorbox creator (and good buddy) Hudson Phillips for introducing me to Fell a few years ago, and I’m forever thankful for that.

4 KIDS WALK INTO A BANK

Writer: Matthew Rosenberg

Artist: Tyler Boss

Letters: Thomas Mauer

Aforementioned “Saul Bass inspired cover”

4 Kids Walk Into A Bank is a story that wears its influences on its sleeve. Just take one look at its Saul Bass inspired cover. Even if you don’t know that name, you know the style. This book has been described as “Tarantino meets The Goonies” and “Wes Anderson Directs Dog Day Afternoon” and the crazy thing is, both of those descriptions are about as accurate as possible. Tarantino, because of the way it is able to shift from violence to legitimate, laugh-out-loud humor. The Goonies, because of the young protagonists that get to benefit the most from Rosenberg’s genuinely witty writing. Wes Anderson, because of Tyler Boss’s clean and symmetrical, well-designed cartooning and color palette that makes this one of those very comic book-y comic books I mentioned in the intro. And finally, Dog Day Afternoon, because of the “bank robbing out of necessity” aspect. But 4 Kids is so much more than all of those. It’s a love letter to all of the things that the creators grew up loving. Dungeons and Dragons, Sci-Fi, Comedy, and probably a hundred other things I can’t think of right now. It’s so jam packed full of references and jokes, that any adaptation has the potential to make for an incredibly entertaining film. Crime and Comedy seem to go hand in hand, and this would make a fitting addition to the genre. Think The Nice Guys mixed with Stand By Me. Ok, I’m done with the references. For now.

Read this book. It’s so so good.

THE SHERIFF OF BABYLON

Writer: Tom King

Artist: Mitch Gerads

A wartime drama set in Baghdad, written by a former CIA Counterintelligence Officer who himself was stationed in Iraq during the war. That adaptation kinda writes itself, huh? Tom King’s story is about a former police officer-turned-military contractor as he attempts to solve a murder of one of his trainees in Iraq. The thing that makes Sheriff of Babylon different, however, is its inclusion of perspectives outside of just the white protagonist. That is what really gives this story its gravitas. It uses political intrigue in a brutally efficient way, not scared of showing the horrors of what happened out there. The realistic style of Mitch Gerads perfectly matches King’s grounded writing. Something that Gerads in particular excels in (and an underappreciated skill in comics) is the expressions on his characters, or the “acting” of his characters. The same could be said about many of the artists in this list, but Gerads’ work really jumped out to me when reading this for the first time. It certainly helps that King’s narrative structure and pacing kind of matches that of a film, so an adaptation of a story like this would make a lot of sense, and I could very easily see it being entertaining.

BITCH PLANET

Writer: Kelly Sue Deconnick

Artist: Valentine De Landro

Colors: Cris Peter

Letters: Clayton Cowles

Similar to 4 Kids Walk Into A Bank, the influences of Bitch Planet are immediately evident. The old sexploitation movies of the 70’s mixed with the “Women in Prison” trope mixed with B movie sci-fi weirdness. That’s a lot, I know, but Kelly Sue Deconnick takes all of these classic tropes and flips them on their head, instead using them to empower her female characters rather than trap them within those limitations. She has created a world that is equal parts The Handmaid’s Tale, Orange is the New Black, and (somehow) The Longest Yard. Despite all of these influences, Kelly Sue has succeeded in keeping her world unique and lived in, with each character getting some time in the spotlight. This is a brutal story, one that’s not scared of nudity or violence. Coming from a writer like Deconnick, she imbues these aspects with a feminism that is frankly, so refreshing. The nudity doesn’t feel like it’s coming from a male gaze (except for a moment within the story when there is a LITERAL male gaze, but that’s just clever storytelling on the part of the creators), so it doesn’t feel exploitative. If this gets adapted sometime in the near future, I could very easily see it having the same success as The Handmaid’s Tale. I’ve only read the first volume of this series, but I can safely say that I can’t wait to pick it back up again and stay in this strange world a little longer.

Finding Our Identity in Geek Culture

ALEX OAKLEY:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?

I first saw myself in the character of Timone in The Lion King. I wanted so badly to be a snarky, sarcastic know-it-all. But as I've grown I realized I would much rather be Pumba. Fat, happy, and farting in public.

What creators do you most identify with?

I definitely identify with the band OK Go. They use their platform as a band to blur the lines between music and visual art and spectacle, as well as utilizing it as an educational platform, in ways that few modern bands match. In addition, I'm very fond of internet personality Thomas "Tomska" Ridgewell, as I relate a lot to his struggles with depression, weight gain, and personal growth.

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

For whatever reason, the movie Holy Motors has left an impact on me no other movie has ever managed to. Its close relation to French Surrealist cinema was one of my earliest exposures to truly non-traditional narratives, and really helped sparked my interest in Film Theory.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

I definitely use Role-Playing, like DnD, as a way to escape and tell stories. I err more on the side of making interesting narratives with the characters I select. Unless it’s Telltale's The Walking Dead, in which case I must protect Clementine at all costs.

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

Dry Bones. Every time. Love that little skeletal friend.

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

"I have a plan to go mad." - Mr. Oscar in Leos Carax's Holy Motors

"Life is a gamble, at terrible odds. If it were a bet you wouldn't take it." - Rosencrantz or Guildenstern in Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

COLBY MCHUGH:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?

The Goonies, because I was a suburban white kid who loved adventures and hanging with my friends, and I had an athletic and cool older brother who I constantly fought with.

What creators do you most identify with?

Stephen King and Brian K. Vaughn. King is obvious, but Vaughn is my all time favorite comic book writer, with some of his best work being Y: The Last Man and Saga. Also Mark Duplass. I think we’d be friends.

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

Not a specific piece of art, but a genre. I started listening to K-Pop last year because it was great music to exercise to, but I'm a little ashamed to admit that I've grown to love it. Let's be honest though, it's not even a guilty pleasure at this point. It really opened me up to a whole world I never would have found in a million years, and I’m very grateful for that.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

I like to play someone totally different! What's the point of fantasy if it isn't just a little escapist, right?

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

Luigi, because he is a perfect angel of a character and anyone who says anything different is my enemy.

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

"You are one pathetic loser … no offense" - Lloyd Christmas, Dumb and Dumber

JACOB YORK:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?

Listen. I'm a straight, white male. It's the honest to God truth that I've never had a moment where the concept of "identity" really resonated with me "for the first time". That said, there are all sorts of problematic dummies who took great pride in their taste in music that I've probably compared myself to before.

What creators do you most identify with?

We're going off the board a bit with music, but Big Data and Jens Lekman hit tones of my personality that I didn't know were there until I heard their songs.

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

Bamboozled and Hedwig and the Angry Inch. I watched them both in high school and they completely rearranged my perspectives on a great many things. To this day, Hedwig is the thing I watch if I'm down in the dumps and can't seem to get out. I'd watch Bamboozled a lot more but it's not available for streaming and I've lost the DVD in multiple moves. Put that baby on Criterion, please.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

Like me, more often than not. I like to be good boys. I frankly have trouble playing as "evil" characters. It just doesn't feel right to me. I want that "Good" ending.

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

Yoshi. Also my go-to Smash brothers character.

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

It does not define me, but there's one that immediately popped in my head:

"Amsterdam ... I'm New York ... don't you never come in here empty handed again, you gotta pay for the pleasure of my company." - Bill the Butcher, Gangs of New York

MONICA BEARD:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?

Lilo and Stich! I too was a weird little girl who lived in her head.

What creators do you most identify with?

I feel like I'm still a little early in my journey to know that answer to that. I guess anyone just starting out, learning how to create in a way that serves yourself and your purpose.

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

I remember really loving the depictions of chinese culture in Mulan.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

Someone just like myself! I think it's because I trust my own judgement too much to choose other options. That is, I always think I know the best way to get things done.

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

Princess Peach!

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

“Be careful of mankind. They do not deserve you.” — Wonder Woman

CK LOVE:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?

The truth is - I never saw myself REALLY in films, sure I felt like Betty Blue when I felt vulnerable and lovesick. Sure I felt like Marianne Faithful in Naked Under Leather when I wanted to express a spirit when I was sick of the societal introjects about women and sexuality and sure, who wouldn't like to kick Harrison Ford's ass because he treated Carrie Fisher like shit. But I never saw myself wholly and fully in film because I do not identify with the woman who is constantly the one waiting for the man to come home. Or being a mom. Or being the ball buster boss of the eighties/nineties movies. I did not see myself reflected because I wasn't. Really. Only recently, are we seeing woman protagonists in film and better ones when we write them.

What creators do you most identify with?

I love it when people follow their inner voice; the art has an emotionality that seems strangely moving in its simplicity. Creators who understand that art is a construct that need not exist in the real world, like David Lynch, Giacometti (sculpture), Yoko Ono.

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

I will say style of art: Modernism in art, film and architecture.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

Someone completely different so I can express sides of myself not yet discovered because it's fun.

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

Princess Peach. Of course!

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

"Only love can save this world. So I stay, I fight and I give. This is my mission now. Forever." - Diana Prince, Wonder Woman

SONYA MAY:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?  

Mulan. She was the first kick-butt female character who embodied the strength that I wanted to have as I grew up, plus she was one of the first Asian characters I ever saw on screen.

What creators do you most identify with?

Mindy Kaling and Greg Pak

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

Snowpiercer came out right as I was leaving home and entering college, and honestly, it's a film that's stuck with me ever since because it displays class struggles and corruption in such a timeless manner. Even though it is set in the future, it touched upon so many relevant issues such as climate change, class structure, and morality. Snowpiercer had me thinking about humanity and our world in different ways than I was taught to while growing up and I love it for that.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

It depends on the game. For instance, in the Elder Scrolls games I always play as a dark elf, which started simply because I thought they looked cooler, but continued because I liked the special abilities that came with their race. But then in Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic, I always made my character look as close to me as possible, because I wanted to see myself as a Jedi. Either way, I do try to match characteristics to myself as much as possible so that I can still feel like the character is me.

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

I'm much more of a Super Smash Bros. kind of gal, and Samus Aran is my go to for that

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

"I'm letting life hit me until it gets tired. Then I'll hit back. It's a classic rope-a-dope." - La La Land

JORDAN NOEL:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?

This is gonna sound real weird and it’s not something that I have any real understanding of, but it's Vincent Gallo’s character, Billy Brown, in Buffalo ’66. (Yes, I’m quite uncomfortable with this answer.)

What creators do you most identify with?

I don’t know that it’s exactly that I identify with them but Werner Herzog, Lina Wertmüller, and Andrzej Zulawski all have a mysteriously profound way of speaking directly to the core of my self.

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

First thought is not actually/exactly new culture or pov BUT an acutely deepened understanding/ empathy/love for men spending their lives in prison and what loving masculinity can look like. It’s a ridiculously powerful documentary from 2017 called The Work.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

Completely different! I’m endlessly fascinated with the range of who we are and what we do and what potential we have to be someone completely different. Also, a fervent pursuit of varied experience.

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

Princess, duh.

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

“But everyone must believe that it isn’t the trick of an untalented artist, impotent artist. Not at all. It must look like a sure decision. Fearless, lofty, and almost arrogant. Nobody must know that a sign succeeds by chance … is fragile.” - Pietro, the son, Pier Paolo Pasolini’s TEOREMA

SARAH OKERSON:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?

Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. I loved her positive outlook on life, and how she got thrown into this crazy adventure and just threw herself into the experience.

What creators do you most identify with?

Greta Gerwig, Justin Baldoni, Gina Rodriguez, Reese Witherspoon

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

Captain Fantastic. This film really opened my eyes to living a unique lifestyle filled with transparency and a lack of technology. This film showed both the benefits and downfalls of those choices, and I found those really fascinating.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

I typically choose someone who’s like me, but with amplified bravery. I’ve always wanted to be the strong, brave leader.

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

Mario or Princess Peach.

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

“To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, to draw closer, to find each other, and to feel. That is the purpose of life.” - The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

HUDSON PHILLIPS:

In what movie did you first see yourself reflected on screen?

Pump Up the Volume.

What creators do you most identify with?

M. Night Shyamalan, J.J. Abrams, The Wachowskis, Britt Marling, Mark Duplass.

What movie (or other piece of art) most opened you up to a new culture or point of view?

Cloud Atlas was probably the one that was most impactful recently. Not so much new culture, but definitely got my brain going in new directions for sure.

When playing a video game or role-playing game, do you play as someone just like yourself or someone completely different? Why?

Definitely a cooler version of myself, preferably with a bow and arrow. I basically play as who I wanted to grow up to be when I was a kid.

Who's your go-to Mario Kart character?

Luigi.

Define yourself using a line from a movie:

“Hey, I don't have all the answers. In life, to be honest, I've failed as much as I've succeeded. But I love my wife. I love my life. And I wish you my kind of successes.” - Dicky Fox, Jerry Maguire

Identity in Professional Wrestling (or Throwing Our Hearts Through Barbershop Windows)

Listen. I know you’re probably not here to read about professional wrestling. I get it. But this month’s theme is Identity and there’s no art form where identity is more inextricable from the art itself.

When I was young, I became a fan of professional wrestling because of the larger than life characters. I watched with rapt attention when Jake “The Snake” Roberts’ deadly cobra bit the arm of a prone “Macho Man” Randy Savage, blood dripping from the bite marks. I wrote letters to a hospitalized Hulk Hogan after a savage attack by Earthquake put him in the hospital. I’m a grown man and I still can’t fully forgive “The Heartbreak Kid” Shawn Michaels for throwing his tag team partner, Marty Jannetty, through a barber shop window/interview set. It’s easy (and not particularly new) to look at them as broad morality plays speaking to the lowest common denominator and, while I would argue that is reductive and condescending, I have to admit I see some points.

Once upon a time, the wrestlers’ personal identities were inconsequential. No one cared whether “The Million Dollar Man” Ted Dibiase was a nice guy or not “in real life”; wrestling purported to be real life. When he was in public, he was expected to be a nasty rich guy, due to the strictures of kayfabe (the idea of professional wrestling being presented as a legitimate competition … essentially “faking the marks”). Vince McMahon gave him a per diem to be spent in flashy ways while on the road. Tip big, but be a jerk about it. His personal identity was completely subsumed by his character’s.

Then … something changed. When the era of Kayfabe ended, things shifted for wrestlers and fans both. It started with a trickle. Good guys and bad guys being caught riding together. People who had no reason to like each other hugging in the ring. So called “dirt sheets” began to report on the backstage machinations with the same breathlessness of the Hollywood Reporter discussing future film deals. Slowly but surely, fans got “smart”.

“Stone Cold” Steve Austin is a fictional character. Kenny Omega is a fictional character. Kevin Owens is a fictional character. Yet Steve Williams, Tyson Smith, and Kevin Steen all exist in the real world and, in one way or another, the highs and lows of their lives have all been mined for storyline purposes. Professional wrestling is always looking at different ways to tell you stories. If it can mine Kevin Steen’s friendship with best friend Rami Sebei to deepen the story of Kevin Owens and Sami Zayn, it will. Blurring the lines of Kenny Omega’s real (?) romantic relationship with fellow wrestler Kota Ibushi allows us to experience “will they/won’t they” tension tinged with the spice of actual, legitimate chemistry and sexual tension. Steve Williams broke his neck in the ring; Stone Cold was never the same.

In the wonderful video essay by Super Eyepatch Wolf, he talks about The Undertaker and how professional wrestling is the only fictional enterprise where the characters age at the same rate as the audience. There are no “Six months later” jumps; we watch it all in real time. Even with a character as ridiculous as The Undertaker, an undead, old-west warlock, the person who plays the character still ages, becoming more mortal each day. The mortality is what keeps us showing up. Effy, an independent wrestler based out of Florida, is just as relatable as a barrier breaking gay icon as he is as a meat shell for the demon he sold his soul to for access to unbound pleasure. We all contain multitudes, you know?

Our humanity informs our creativity. Every new work demands we reveal more of ourselves to the audience, but exposure without creativity is just vanity. In the search to make our work more intimate and more personal, we would do well to see what lessons we can take from every art form under the sun. Identity in professional wrestling is nuanced, complicated, and all the sweeter for it.

The Satisfying Self-Reflection of The Bourne Identity

Even if we wanted to, we can never really forget who we are, our innate selves. However, there is a chance to forget the person that people think we are, or make us out to be.

We are told constantly in our formative years what we are, and we formulate that in our own minds, to be who we are. This can manifest in self-doubt and leave you with an uneasy feeling of vertigo almost without a firm footing in the knowledge of who you are.

Things that were drilled into you when you were growing up can have a detrimental effect on how you see yourself and therefore respond in this world. Who wants to go around with the notion that “you’re a dumbass,” or “you can do no wrong,” or “girls are always nice,” etc? Shedding them is a must.

I changed with the help of my meditation. The beauty of a meditation practice in the traditional sense – without the new age frills –  is that it is exactly about ridding yourself of all that you were told about who you are.

Most of us, especially artists, fear shedding the things we think make us artists; it’s like that whole idea about the 70s rockers who stopped taking drugs and feared that they would not be able to create afterward.

I thought after my intensive meditation stint that I would not be able to create anymore. But not true. I became a better writer, because my thoughts became clearer and more organized. The less confused about who I was, the clearer my thoughts and writing became. I wasn’t so hard on myself, which helped the words flow more easily.

Imagine, like Jason Bourne, you know nothing of yourself. You know nothing of your past or even your future. You know only your present. In the film, he first tries to think,  Who am I? But nothing comes. Then he is forced to react. Ah ha!

The way he responds to outer stimuli starts to tell him a lot about himself. Jason didn’t have the knee-jerk reaction that comes from remembering what someone else told him who he was. His trained and resourceful self came through and he was effective in facing every obstacle he came across.

As far as I can tell, identity is fluid. It shifts. A lot of it depends on what we are obsessed with at that moment, who we are hanging with, or what job we have. Identity becomes something other than “who we are.”

In the case of The Bourne Identity, we see this when Bourne realizes that he and other agents have been programmed to be killing machines – and expendable. At one point, he says he doesn’t like who he is. But what people who meet him in the present respond to is not the killer, but the man who spared another man surrounded by children at his own expense. His intuitive innate self began to surface.

Which is his identity then, the killer or the man with a conscience?

All this told me that when you don’t have the conditioning elements anymore, you are free to discover parts of yourself that haven’t been seen. Our identity shifts because motives change, conscience rises, and/or circumstances require adjustments.

Watching The Bourne Identity, a few things became evident to me about not only how we define ourselves, but also how we define the characters we write.

Here are my top 4 ways to define characters the Bourne Identity way:

1. Through their action. This is not reaction or reflex, it is the action that comes from a combination of ability and intuition, the innate feeling of how you respond to situations as yourself and not what others say you are. At the end of the film, Bourne is about acceptance of where he’s been and who he expresses himself to be naturally. This is conscious action.

2. Through their reaction - caught off guard, knee-jerk, unconscious movement/response. I loved the moment when Jason grabs the baton of the Zurich police officer and realizes that he has lightening speed reaction time. His surprise and realization of what he is able to do without thinking was fun to watch. He was equally surprised during the assassination attempt shown in flashback that he had a soft spot for children to show a vulnerable side told a lot about not only the man himself, but it also revealed a lot about the “program,” its nefarious goals and the people who run it.

3. Through their abilities. Talents, idiosyncrasies, expertise, natural talent. His ability to react with lightning speed, have the knowledge no matter how buried to assess a given situation and people, his ability to memorize, shoot with pinpoint accuracy, all told us that he was well-trained through the “program”.

4. Through the reactions of others. Those that first meet Bourne, those that already know him, or those that are after him, the character relationships are based on the concept of asset vs liability. We have heard the adage, “the antagonist believes that they are the hero of the story.” It is important to illustrate this through relationships with others. It is easy to see Conklin’s (Chris Cooper) identity as ruthless, determined, protective and commanding, but what makes him come to life is how he navigates around his people. It’s a little one sided at first – he starts our ticking clock, he is ruthless. As the movie goes on, we can see his relationships begin to strain because he is “identified” with the success of the program and would do anything to do it. In the end, I suppose you can say karma got him.

I’ve always liked The Bourne Identity because of how it used this to its advantage. I miss movies like this where characters are extremely aware of themselves without becoming neurotic, and have the capacity to shed light on the fluidity of identity which brings the story to an end in a satisfying way.

Velvet Goldmine: The Search (And Destroy) for Identity in Film

As a young man I was completely obsessed with a short-lived rock’n’roll phenomenon from the early 70s, one that somewhat inexplicably morphed and mutated into the Hair Metal of the 80s. It was called Glam Rock … it wasn’t just David Bowie, Iggy Pop, T Rex, Roxy Music, and Lou Reed … it was Silverhead and Eno and Jobriath and Gary Glitter. It was boys in women’s clothes and makeup, everything shiny and dangerous, elaborate and alien.

I came up in the 90s hardcore punk scene, a scene with no shortage of bold masculinity. Big pants, big shirts, big statements were the go-to straightedge aesthetic—so when my roulette of rebellion began spinning again to find my next musical obsession it was Glam I landed on. What a world I had found … with so much to explore.

It was 1998 and the universe seemed to be trying to tell me something. I wouldn’t discover it until it hit the video store shelves, a cut-up collage homage to the Glam era shining on the silver screen: Todd Haynes’ celebratory Velvet Goldmine. On paper I should passionately hate this movie—it takes music I love, that has great personal meaning to me, and has actors recreating it, and mixing it all up … but Todd Haynes is a masterful filmmaker, and Velvet Goldmine is a fawning love letter rather than an opportunist exploitation. Haynes’ deep appreciation and passion for the subject is clearly evident. It’s often described as more of a painting than a movie—I agree, painted in a glorious palette of glitter and sparkle and all the necessary dirt.

Much of the movie (and Glam in general) is about sexual liberation and exploration. As a young dude brought up in the sexually repressive environment of 80s taboo-wary evangelicalism, this was just the kind of danger I was looking for. But it wasn’t about the act of sex; I was still years away from that. It was about identity and role reversals and culture. I was 15 when I bought my first pair of women’s pants. I wore a silver sequin tailed tuxedo with homemade sparkling platform shoes and hot pink star-shaped glasses to my senior prom. Then I grew my hair out, dressed in all kinds of women’s clothes, studied fashion design, regularly went to drag shows, and carried a pink nylon purse. Some friends and I were physically threatened by some good ole boys (actually full grown country men) at a county fair after a male friend of mine kissed me in the line for the whirligig—it was absolutely terrifying but also oddly exhilarating. True Glam had expired a quarter century before but I wanted to bring that spirit back. I wanted to find myself in it. I spent many nights in my freshman dorm working on my GeoCities website: proudly coined Neo-Glam. It was a manifesto of style and substance. Luckily, no trace of it can be found today. I still worshipped the original glam music, but also pushed a then-current British Glam movement—bands like Pulp and The London Suede.

I quit college to pursue a life of Rock’n’Roll and tart myself up as much as I could get away with, deeply influenced by another band briefly brushed into the Velvet Goldmine cyclorama, The New York Dolls. This sort of thing went on well into my 20s. The experimentation, the fight against norms, and the partying, the decadence, the pursuit of the Rock’n’Roll dream, and in it, meaning, identity, purpose. A mission to change the world. Much like Ewan McGregor’s character (a gay mashup of Lou Reed and Iggy Pop named Curt Wild) says near the end of the film: “We set out to change the world, ended up just changing ourselves … What’s wrong with that? … Nothing, if you don’t look at the world.” Wide-eyed, life’s possibilities and scope appeared without limit. I could change myself, make myself, and set fire to the world at the same time. While my vision may have been a bit overblown, it’s a come-of-age I won’t regret. Velvet Goldmine personifies this experience for me. Admittedly a romantic nostalgia for an era gone before I even existed, it still provided a shimmering path through the shadowy sides of adolescence.

So, to address the elephant in the room, yes, Velvet Goldmine is very much about gay culture, gay identity, homosexuality, and bisexuality. Much of it kicked off in a scene where Brian Slade, the glam superstar in the film, comes out at a press conference, much like David Bowie in interviews with both Melody Maker and Playboy at the time. Am I gay? Or was I in my early 20s? The short answer is no … but at the time I really didn’t know what it would feel like to be gay, or bi-sexual. I knew I loved the culture and the product, and a part of me really wanted to discover that I was gay. Finally, an identity other than just ‘weirdo’. A cause to get behind, to defend. Alas, despite my beliefs of sexual fluidity and spectrum, I wasn’t actually gay. But that didn’t change my love for Glam and no film has ever come as close to portraying that love than Velvet Goldmine. Well, maybe DA Pennebaker’s Ziggy Stardust & the Spiders from Mars, but that’s another story for another day.