Tag: waiting list cinema

Waiting List Cinema: Doctor Who

October 26th, 2022

“The answer to my next question. Which must be honest, cold and considered without kindness or restraint. Clara, be my pal and tell me: am I a good man?” – The Doctor

That’s a line from the episode “Into The Dalek” from Doctor Who. The episode is listed in Wikipedia as “the second episode of the eighth series” of the show, but if you know even a cursory amount about the show, you know that’s a simplified way of describing it. The show has been on television in some way shape or form since 1963, and was officially cancelled at least once, and has had a fair number of odd starts, including two movie series, one starring Peter Cushing which is largely separated from the series, and a made for TV movie starring Paul McGann, which was supposed to launch an American version of the series, but never really came through.

A fan might tell you that the timeline of the show is a bit “wibbly wobbly and timey wimey.” Or they might roll their eyes at such a suggestion. The fandom isn’t a monolith, and it stretches over almost sixty years.

Peter Capaldi’s depiction of the character might be my most favorite though. He wears the bedraggled worn out nature of the character so well, and as an actor he masters some of the most moving monologues of the series. His tirade against war from “The Zygon Inversion” is another one that I wish I could go back in time and perform for a theater class. In this episode, the line mentioned above sets up a small character arc for him that appeals to me on a pretty personal level. Wrestling with the question, “Am I a good person?”

Because of how my brain works, I am constantly overanalyzing things around me. I put a great deal of deep thought into various issues, some of them worth it and some of them not, heck that’s pretty much the premise for this blog. I frequently notice things other people don’t, and it’s not unusual for me to share my perspective and have someone go “oh, that’s pretty deep/perceptive, thanks for sharing it.” Along those same lines, I also have a great deal of information crammed into my head. I have read hundreds of books in my adult life, and watched thousands of hours of documentaries and video essays, I am addicted to information and need it constantly pouring into my brain. Because of this, I know a lot more about a variety of topics than most people do. But none of this actually makes me that much smarter than the average person, and it certainly doesnt make me better than them. But my psyche would certainly like to believe that.

So I spend a lot of time fighting my ego, trying to put off the voice in my head that wants to rant about how ignorant and tiresome everyone else is. I see the failings in others and have to struggle to not shut down on hearing their perspectives or insights because they haven’t invested the same kind of time thinking about a topic as I have, or they don’t recognize the gaps in their own knowledge.

But I am also keenly aware of my own failings. I know the darker impulses I am constantly trying to restrain, the heartless and mean comments that come bubbling up anytime I get annoyed or impatient with those around me. I know full well that I am not exactly a great human being.

So I repeatedly turn to the question, “Am I a good man?”

The character he’s asking in that story gives the only real response you can give to that question, “I don’t know.” Because no one can really know you deeply enough to give a real and accurate answer, and certainly not one you’re going to trust, after all, they don’t know about “X” or whatever is your own secret guilt.

The question is answered later on in the series, however. The Doctor meets up with his old frenemy “The Master” in the episode “Death In Heaven,” there played excellently by Michelle Gomez. He’s offered the temptation to take a whole army and take over the universe. Missy, (the nickname for this incarnation of The Master) states, “Armies are for people who think they’re right, and no one is righter than you.” We see the Doctor look at this statement with genuine confusion and temptation. After all, any person of reasonable intelligence who’s spent enough time thinking about the nature of our society knows just how unfair and broken it all is. Wouldn’t it be tempting to have the power to just force a fix to it all?

The Doctor gives the response I shout to myself in my head every day. “I am not a good man. I am not a bad man. […] You know who I am? I am an idiot with a box and a screwdriver, passing through, helping out. And I don’t need an army, I never have.”

I am genuinely an idiot. I learn in new ways every day just how foolish and broken I am, but I also know enough to know that some things need done. So I do my best. I get through each day with the full knowledge that I am not good enough. I can list all the reasons why someone else would do my job or my hobby better than I am, but that’s okay, because I don’t have to be good, I’m an idiot. And I can be comfortable with that.

Oh, really random side note, the episode “Into the Dalek” is also an amazing allegory for reaching out to someone who’s been broken by the system. The Dalek shows a brief ability to grow and become better than it is, but the systems it is trapped in keep forcing it back to being hateful and destructive. You can’t save the Dalek without fixing the system it is trapped in, and that’s a pretty decent lesson to learn as well.

I’m going to leave you with two clips:

First, this is the “Good man, idiot” speech I mentioned above: https://youtu.be/uPjJ_VAubRs

This is the Zygon Inversion speech I absolutely adore https://youtu.be/BJP9o4BEziI
Waiting List Cinema: Venture Brothers

October 24th, 2022

I am a child of the 1980’s. Like so many men of my generation, I have an unhealthy obsession with the media of my youth. Whether it’s GI Joe or Ghostbusters, I have absolutely gotten into too many arguments over the years where I was emotionally invested in a discussion of something absolutely pointless, like “Who’s cooler, Batman or Wolverine?” or “How cool would it be to have Dr Strange as your next door neighbor?”

Venture Brothers is pretty much the show you get when some decently intelligent people of that same background take the time to thoughtfully approach such media and comment on it, while making a show that’s just as cheesy and entertaining as the original material. It’s a parody in the richest sense, an artwork that understands and critiques its own genre while simultaneously loving what makes that genre special.

A fairly simple and surface example would be this clip from the third episode of the third season, depicting the clash between the fictional groups “O.S.I.” and “Sphinx” which are riffs on GI Joe and COBRA, respectively.

The OSI “Joes” are really bullies engaging in over the top violence for childish enjoyment, but that’s okay we’ll still depict it with bright colors and a cheery song, because childish bullies engaging in pointless violence is perfectly okay if we wrap those bullies up in a flag and say the people they’re committing war crimes on are “terrorists.”

And that’s one of the biggest reoccurring themes in the Venture Bros, trying to navigate that tension between nostalgic love for the fictional entertainment of our past, while also cynically realizing the harmful undertones and lessons that entertainment was getting across.

Another interesting theme of the show is ego, and both its benefits and costs. We see how the demigod Brock Samson can be the most badass dude ever, mostly because he just believes he is. He defiantly wins a Rock-paper-scissors match with a fellow OSI agent because he insists that “Rock is the best one” and won’t acknowledge his loss. His ego, in spite of his ignorance, helps him succeed and be an icon for other characters to admire.

But Doc Venture, on the other hand, oozes with ego as well, but his seems to draw him back into failure over and over again. His ego causes him to constantly swing from destructive mania to dejected depression. He knows he’ll never be as great as his father, and he’ll never live up the promise of his gifted “boy adventurer” childhood.

I should mention here that the show unfortunately engages in some jokes that feel pretty uncomfortable at times. With characters like “Princess Tiny Feet,” a character depicted as fitting a mid 1950’s cartoon stereotype of an “Indian princess” who in this case is also into BDSM play as an extreme sub, the show is clearly commenting on shallow racial stereotypes from the same era as the other genre staples, but some such jokes can feel like repeating a racist joke unnecessarily.

Gender is another theme the show tackles over and over again. Where some discussions might stop at simple “toxic masculinity,” the Venture Bros attempts to depict a wider range of male expression, from the studious and dramatic Doctor Orpheus or the aforementioned herculean Brock Samson, to nerdy Henchman 21, who goes through a character arc struggling with the loss of his friend and identity, to becoming a badass dork who trains with LARPERS so he can kick enough has to become the main henchman of the show’s primary antagonist, The Monarch.

However, similarly to how some of the racial commentary can get uncomfortable, some of the gender depictions in Venture Bros feel the need for a more nuanced discussion, for lack of a better term. In the character of Colonel Hunter Gathers, we have a iconic “man’s man” patterned largely off of parody of General Patton, complete with corncob pipe, who undergoes a sex change early in the show, ostensibly to escape a “no killing women” rule the OSI apparently has when he goes rogue. After spending time as a “femme fatale” character who still acts like a parody of Patton, he eventually gets a reverse sex change, but later admits to a group of characters on two occasions that he misses being a woman, or at least misses having breasts.

Another character, Doctor Girlfriend, is depicted as a highly capable and driven woman supervillain. She plays into many of the trope of more qualified henchwoman serving an inept man, but the character is also voiced show creator Doc Hammer, and is given a voice more reminiscent of a grizzled film noir detective. Other characters repeatedly question the cause of this voice, and even make blunt comments asking if the character has had a sex change. While these scenes are uncomfortable, it also strikes me as interesting that the show seems to indicate that the question of whether or not she’s cis or trans isn’t important. She at least, doesn’t seem particularly interested in entertaining the question, she’s more interested in kicking ass. That said, I don’t have any room to declare that the show is or isn’t transphobic in it’s treatment of the characters in either case. I’d be eager to read or listen to a trans writer’s take on the topic though, if you’d like to suggest one.

I’ll end with a recommendation of this song from the show. It’s “Jacket” by the in show band, “Shallow Gravy.” It’s ridiculous and it’s fun.
Waiting List Cinema: Bojack Horseman

October 24th, 2022

I’ve had this thought for a while now. We all have those shows or movies that are “comfort cinema” for us. It could be because it’s a movie we saw at a time in our lives we’re nostalgic for, or simply the content of it just cuts right to the core of our own issues or struggles. These are the examples of media we turn to when therapy has a waiting list.

For the first post in this series, I knew it had to be Bojack Horseman. It came out in August of 2014, but I avoided it for a while thinking it was going to be a cheap South Park rip off like so much of the “adult” animation on Netflix at the time. A couple years later though, I gave it a try when I felt I’d otherwise scraped the bottom of the streaming barrel, only to discover the show had me feeling some pretty deep emotions right off the bat.

The show centers around the eponymous Bojack Horseman, an actor who had previously starred in a sitcom in the 1990’s, but hasn’t done much of anything since. His previous fame has earned him enough money to live a life of hedonistic luxury, which only allows him to discover the very depths of human meaninglessness. For a nihilist cynic like myself, the show feels like an old friend, sharing our observations on how “fake” everyone else is while we sit in the back of the room.

Bojack isn’t allowed to wallow in his lonely superiority though. The show starts with the introduction of Diane Nguyen, who’s been hired to help him complete his autobiography. While he tries to provide her the safe, sanitized, and marketable version of his life’s story, she presses him to be more honest and vulnerable. This push and pull begins to serve as the core of the show for the first season or so, as we watch Bojack vacillate between growing as a person and slipping back into his self centered pleasure seeking lifestyle.

Unlike so many shows centered on a character’s growth or fall, Bojack Horseman doesn’t’ take the simple road of showing the characters straightforward growth. In your typical setup, we’d see Bojack and Diane fall in love and grow better together as people. Instead, while we do see Bojack make such a declaration of love, Diane rejects him, and their relationship as friends is really never on stable ground after that. Bojack’s repeated failures and backsliding helps to set the show apart, you’re left truly uncertain how his story will end, as he often takes three steps forward, then two steps back, or even completely crashing and burning. We see several moments where we hope he’s finally learned his lessons and is on the road to wholeness, only to see an unexpected setback or frustration to lead him screaming back into his old self destructive – but safe feeling – ways.

This line of thinking leads to a show filled with characters that feel “real” with development you can get invested in. You find yourself emotionally attached to whether the talking cat is able to deal with her desires for a family and inability to trust any romantic partner. Or when the wacky slacker dude comes out as asexual and tries to find his way in a world that’s often ignored or mocked by most entertainment, you will find yourself heart warmed at his journey to self acceptance and learning to set boundaries.

I love Bojack for a lot of reasons, most of which boil down to seeing my own personal issues and self hatred projected onto fictional characters. But the reason I want to recommend it to others is because those same characters try to grow and learn while also repeatedly failing. Bojack reminds us that progress is messy and never in a straight line. And that no matter how “good” we might try to be, sometimes our mistakes can still bring us down in the end, and the struggle with accepting that.

One final note I need to recommend from this show, but this last bit is on the darker side, so additional content warning here regarding self harm stuff.

In the second to last episode, we are treated to a look inside Bojack’s head, where he is able to converse with characters who had previously died. One is a fictional version of Secretariat, which in this world is a famous horse athlete Bojack looked up to who later killed himself when it was discovered he had placed bets on his own races.

The character recites a poem he wrote after his own suicide. For a while, I thought this was a poem one of the writers had found and was quoting, but it is apparently an original work. If I were still in high school, I would have started competing in the dramatic reading category just to be able to perform this monologue/poem. It’s something that’s helped talked me down from the metaphorical edge a few times, particularly over the past year.

You can read the poem on the Bojack wiki here: https://bojackhorseman.fandom.com/wiki/The_View_From_Halfway_Down_(Poem)

Someone made this YouTube video where they laid the character reading the poem over the earlier scene of that same character jumping off a bridge. I find it incredibly moving, but I also know it could be way too much for some people to watch. https://youtu.be/5egyZUhGVSA
Therapy Waiting List Cinema

October 24th, 2022

I wish therapy was cheap. I wish it was easy to get into. I’ve spent months on a waiting list to just now start seeing a therapist, and it takes a few months to really know if you’ve found the right fit enough to make real progress.

But you know what’s always there and ready for you? TV. Or music. Or – of course – the whole internet with streaming sites and bootleg downloads, access to the whole world of trashy and comforting art. Stuff that seems ridiculous or juvenile, but still somehow appeals to something inside you.

Whether it’s watching Princess Bride when I have to stay home sick, or throwing back a few cocktails and watching endless episodes of “Star Trek” over and over again, I have so many things that I turn to when I need that kind of comfort and mental companionship.

I don’t intend to do reviews or criticism here. There are going to be things I recommend that are objectively poor in quality, and maybe even morally objectionable on the whole, but they’ll have something in them that I’ve found helpful in my own self processing. If there’s something that’s genuinely morally problematic about something I’m going to mention here, I’ll try to explicitly disown such aspects, but my goal here is to focus on how I use the art in question to interrogate myself rather than the reverse.

I’m also going to do my best to write and post this with as little editing or overthinking as possible. I tend to get wrapped up in such things and never actually get the damned thing done, so for this, I’m going to try and practice less restraint. You can expect lower quality writing overall, but I’ll actually finish more. Not that I actually expect anyone to read this stuff, but I figure it’s better to set my own expectations on paper, as it were.

Tag: waiting list cinema

Waiting List Cinema: Doctor Who

Waiting List Cinema: Venture Brothers

Waiting List Cinema: Bojack Horseman

Therapy Waiting List Cinema