Zootopia

- Zootopia (2016. Dirs. Byron Howard & Rich Moore). Judy Hopps has a dream: She wants to leave behind her rural small-town roots to become an urban police officer. Not an easy task when one is a rabbit in a profession generally dominated by large mammals. But a missing-persons case just might be the big break she needs. Together with con artist fox Nick Wilde, she will navigate a mystery that runs through the seemingly idyllic city of Zootopia --and discover just how deeply ingrained certain bigoted prejudices can be...

There is something about the 'Furry' aesthetic (anthropomorphic animals) that leans itself very well to Noir stories. Recall the likes of "Blacksad", "Contro Natura", "Felidae" (this one may be cheating a little, granted), "BB Wolf and the three LPs"... and now, this all-ages animated movie from Disney. 

The unusual part is: As a mystery, it plays fair with the audience, leaving assorted clues and a couple plot twists that work with the overall themes of the setting. All the same, it is an entertaining family movie, filled with the right amount of humor, occasional pathos and even a couple 'parental bonus' bits (case in point, an homage of sorts to the tv series "Breaking Bad"). 

And as an allegory for real-life racial inequity? Quite a few reviewers have argued that it can't work that way because unlike with real ethnicities, here, the differences between the animals is that some of them could easily kill each other. The thing about that: This movie most definitely takes cues from real life prejudices... but in this case, none of the species represent a specific minority, or for that matter *a* minority. What we have is a series of complexities: Predator-types belittle prey-types, who in turn distrust them. Then we have barely coded bits such as the concept that "a rabbit can call another rabbit cute, but for somebody else to do it, it's...", that you should not touch a sheep's wool without permission (no matter how fluffy it is), that "all predators should be muzzled"... More than a direct reflection of our world, it's a world with several ideological clashes that is not easy to navigate, even for the best-meaning of people. 

Nevertheless, the movie advocates for peaceful coexistence. It would take a ton of hard work, it would always be more fragile that we like to think... but it is possible. 

In that sense, perhaps it is a reflection of our world after all. 

Fyre (2019)

- Fyre: The greatest party that never happened. (2019. Dir. Chris Smith). Documentary about the creation and outcome of the infamous disaster that was the "Fyre Festival" of 2017, with a special focus on the many, many crimes of founder Billy McFarland. 

The thing about documentaries concerning scandals and true crimes: We watch them primarily  out of morbid fascination. Natural curiosity, even if sometimes it can risk running into heartless schadenfreude (if not dive headlong into it). Look how better off you are than these strangers. It can also be informative --not exactly as a guide on how to avoid danger (it is not possible to avoid it all, such is life), but rather to see how do things like this happen. How does a bad idea snowball into a mess that makes the news? 

This particular event would seem a perfect opportunity to mock self-absorbed rich kids who got swindled not once but twice by an internet celebrity (even as he was on trial for for fraud, McFarland tried to swindle all attendants to his failed festival out of money to bribe the jury. He was, by all accounts, unable to grasp the idea that he might face jail time). And there is something of that, certainly: In their own videos, these youngsters show a remarkable lack of common sense and an astounding level of ignorance about travel safety. They are also shown to be quick to turn on each other the second they find themselves in an uncomfortable situation --a group that does not  know how to bear hardships nor how to organize. 

Yet there are two other, more interesting details here. 

The first is the impact the entire project took on the actual residents and workers of the  island of Great Exuma --the image of native workers forced to work around the clock to build a white man's deranged pipe dream is chillingly similar to far too many historical events. 

The second is a specific bit of commentary that can easily fly over most people's heads on a first view. The "Fyre Festival" idea, as McFarland himself lets slip in a casual video, as never truly about organizing a music festival (this would have worked even with no infrastructure. As long as there is live music and alcohol, people will endure anything), nor about swindling (such a thing most definitely went on, but more due to McFarland's incompetence and inability to accept a "no" for an answer than due to any premeditated action), not about promoting his ultimately non-existing booking app, and not even about making an exclusive festival for snooty rich people. 

No, the true purpose is, in a way, a more chilling reflection of how soulless the greedy lifestyle of capitalism truly can be. The Fyre Festival was originally planned to take place at Norman's Cay, an island that was famously used by drug lord Pablo Escobar as part of his trade. The infamous promotional video even made a point of this: "In a paradise island that once belonged to Pablo Escobar". McFarland lets slip in one casual interview that this is the real plan: "Selling the dream of the common man: The fantasy that for a few days they can BE Pablo Escobar." 

The hollow dream of being so powerful that you can do whatever you want, which becomes an ultimately ridiculous nightmare of your own making. In that sense, Fyre may truly represent the maladies of current times. 

Blast from the past!

*

NOTE: This review originally appeared in my Tumblr account. As they attempted to censor it, here it is, in its entirety: 

- Best Gay Erotica 2001. Eds., Randy Boyd & Richard Labonté. A selection of twenty-two short stories (well, a couple of them are excerpts from longer works), illustrating the general panorama of gay erotica at the end of the past millennium. The selection is pleasantly varied, ranging from straight-forward one-handed reading to more intricate literary pieces (crisscrossing with the likes of Sci-fi, Noir, Period drama, Poetry in prose, even Metafiction!) to real-life confessionals. The respective introductions by the editors provide a nice glimpse into the selective process as well. 

Of the stories themselves, my personal favorites were “You need a boy”, by Dough Harrison and “Onyx”, by Felice Picano. The first being a skillfully narrated, suitably intense account of an introduction to S&M scenarios; the second, a seduction scene distilled to it’s most powerful moments. There is enough variety and quality for both causal readers and more discerning treasure seekers. Overall recommended.

*

Best of 2018, III: TV series.

From a total of 20 TV series I watched this year, my personal top 6 (I couldn’t trim it down to five this time), four animated shows (both Anime and US cartoons) and two docu-series. In no particular order:  

- She-ra and the princesses of power. One of two remarkable cartoon reboots in this list, and a fine example of taking an existing property and retooling it into something unique. Essentially a fantasy-action cartoon for the current era, with a charming cast and an engaging storyline that balances mystery with character focus. 

- Aggresive Retsuko (aka Aggretsuko). Technically a reboot as well, being a web-series spun-off into a TV series proper. A slice-of-life comedy (or perhaps dramedy), and one of the few animated shows that can be legitimately described as “relatable”. After a Christmas special this year, I’m looking forward to the second season. 

- Time of Eve. A quiet, vastly underrated sci-fi show that explores a future society composed of humans and androids from a pivotal place: A café where the two may mingle freely. Subtle and emotionally sincere. Looking forward to the movie. 

- DuckTales. The other remarkable cartoon reboot in this list, a series that managed to be both an homage to the past (not just the original DuckTales, but to decades of Disney Duck comics, movies and cartoons) and a brand-new artifact. An all-ages, extremely enjoyable blend of comedy and adventure. Looking forward to the second season. 

- Sat, Fat, Acid, Heat. A four-part documentary based on the book by chef Samin Nosrat, a tour around the world (Italy, Japan, Mexico —then back to the US) in search for traditional food and cooking methods. A feast for the senses, in several ways. 

- Explained. A collection of twenty information capsules that cover a wide variety of topics —from the world’s water crisis to the history of tattoos and exclamation marks, to eSports to the female orgasm and much, much more. A rare Netflix docu-series that aims to be informative rather than exploitative. Notable for both educational value and as a springboard for several necessary discussions. 

Best of 2018, II: Books in English.

I read a total of ten books in English this year, including prose and comics. Which gives us a top 5. I found this list MUCH more difficult to compile. Also, this year I read a lot of essays, almost without noticing. Once again, these aren’t so much the very best books I read this year, but those that made much more of an impression on me. 

Arranged in alphabetical order: 

1. Amphigorey. Edward Gorey. Gorey’s first fifteen… books? Comics? Illustrated books? Under the same roof. Very unusually for a chronological compilation, all of them already display the author’s themes, interests and virtues in full. A quintessentially Weird artist, in the sense of delving into unusual themes and techniques, very much for those looking for something original. He is about everything I had heard and a lot of things I had not. 

2. Bad Feminist. Roxane Gay. One of the best essay collections I read this year, at once candid and carefully researched. Gay’s voice is a delight to read even as she guides us through hauntingly dark torments, both personal and social. 

3. Before I fall. Lauren Oliver. One of the best current YA novels I have read yet. If the plot is quite familiar, this is one of those books that prove it’s all in the execution. 

4. Love is love. A powerful anthology of short queer comics, ranging from the tear-jerking to the thoughtful to the puzzling. The best way I can describe the impact this comic had on me, warts and all, is that it was one of the many factors that contributed to my actually attending the local Pride parade this year. 

5. So you’ve been publicly shamed. Jon Ronson. This is the one entry I wasn’t completely sure about. I definitely enjoyed reading this book and it did give me plenty to think about. At the same time, it does have a certain exploitative tone, being as it is primarily a collection of lurid cyberbullying cases wrapped in a cautionary warning. Yet it holds a fascination for me beyond the morbid, because of Ronson’s intimation that the problem is not the tool (the internet) but the ways in which we can use it to foster our worst instincts. Thought-provoking, for better, for worse and for something unexpected. 

***

Comments are welcome.

Best of 2018, I: Movies in English.

I watched a grand total of 25 movies in English this year. 

From this, we choose a top five… not in order. These aren’t necessarily the absolute best five movies I watched this year; they are the five that made the most impression on me and that I find to be all fine movies in themselves. I don’t really think one is superior to the other (besides they are very different in terms of story, themes, style…). With one exception, these are all from the current century. So, in alphabetical order: 

1. A ghost story (2017). A tour-de-force journey through time and space presented via a deceptively simple image: A bedsheet ghost! The result is neither an horror movie nor a parody of the genre (even though it actually is both of those things sometimes), but a poetic exploration of the human soul. Genuinely haunting, as the best ghost stories are. 

2. Do the right thing (1989). The up and downs of a tightly-knit, diverse urban community during a cruel heat wave. Possibly the quintessential Spike Lee movie, as polarizing as the deep-rooted conflicts it portrays, with unforgettable sequences that range from the touching to the humorous to the disturbing. 

3. Dream Boat (2017). A documentary of a week-long gay cruise which becomes a snapshot of the international gay community of the current era. Mixing interviews with party chronicles, it achieves an almost symbolic quality (case in point, a nighttime party is almost dreamlike, as befits the title). 

4. I, Tonya (2017). Less a biography or a reconstruction of a real-life event than an exercise in film that highlights the unreality of what we think of as “fact”. A movie that is by turns hilarious, spectacular and very thought-provoking, anchored by terrific performances and a delightfully sardonic script. 

5. Kinky Boots (2005). A comedy loosely based on a real-life anecdote (it’s interesting how fiction is nourished by reality, without needing to be an exact copy of it). But what makes this movie shine is the use of a simple detail (shoe-making) to illustrate the changing attitude of entire societies around complex issues (blue-collar workers grappling with novel concepts of gender and sexuality, which often challenge their own assumptions). And it manages to tackle these subjects without needing to be overtly dramatic nor heavy-handed. 

***

Thoughts and commentaries are welcome. 

Aquaman.

- Aquaman (2018, dir. James Wan). The son of an Atlantean queen and a human lighthouse guard, Arthur Curry (alias Aquaman) is required to reclaim his throne as the rightful heir of Atlantis —before an alliance between the seven seas (well, what is left of seven underwater kingdoms, really) wage a huge war against the surface world. Unfortunately, Arthur has no interest in the throne or in Atlantis. Fortunately, he is interested in a globe-trotting adventure…

A superhero movie that is at once silly and spectacular, occasionally problematic and often loads of fun —so the quintessential Superhero story, really. Opting to ditch the dour cynicism of previous DC-based movies (“Superman vs Batman”), this one opts for a simple story that serves mostly as an excuse for adventures, spectacular fights and stunning landscapes, both above and below water. 

What makes it silly? It’s a movie that presents with all sincerity such sights as an armored shark roaring like a trained circus lion, an octopus beating war drums (something of a live-action interpretation of Disney’s version of The little mermaid, indeed!), a woman feasting on live goldfish and more. And that is fine, really —there is plenty of merit in daring to be silly. 

What makes it problematic? The tired cliché of a fantasy race (Atlantean) that consist almost exclusively of white people, while the one black person in the story (Black Manta) is the villain. The movie goes to great lengths to try to humanize Manta, but in a movie where most of the characters sound and act like they stepped out of an episode of “He-man and the masters of the universe”, it only makes the problem even more obvious. Add to that the casual destruction and unacknowledged massive death toll that is common to the genre and you have a movie that refused to learn the basic lesson: There is a lot wrong with being problematic due to slavishly following genre rules that were never meant to be followed at all. 

And yet, aside from elements that leave a really bitter taste on your mouth, the rest of the movie is still unabashedly entertaining, with grandiose overacting (on purpose) from a talented cast and a neat sense of spectacle and wonder.