Tuesday, October 2, 2018

October Releases

October Releases



Fall's in full swing, and this month's practically bursting with box office potential, along with a slew of new shows to please homebodies parked on the couch.  Two big features right out the gate are Venom, Sony's virgin step into the Marvel movie enterprise headed by everyone's favorite toothy anti-hero; and The Hate U Give, the big screen adaptation of writer Angela Thomas' pointed debut novel about a a young woman forced to confront the realities of police racial profiling, and the terrible consequences it rains down upon everyone.  One last high-profile premiere at the end of the month is the (supposed) final chapter of the Halloween horror franchise, which sees Jamie Lee Curtis reprising her iconic role as she suits up for one final showdown with the legendary Michael Myers.

On the small screen, Amy Poehler's back, flashing her signature comedic brilliance with the new series I feel Bad, an NBC comedy following the trials and turbulence of Emet, the"perfect" boss, wife and mother who turns out to be anything but.  Meanwhile, Disney's flexing its Star Wars muscles on the boob-tube with Star Wars Resistance, an animated prequel to The Force Awakens that is likely to inspire as much angry turd-flinging from the franchise faithful as the beleaguered sequel trilogy it's attached to.

Meanwhile, Capcom's releasing Mega Man 11 the latest addition to the wildly popular franchise, while fighting game powerhouse Namco will unleash number VI of its second fighting flagship title, Soul Caliber.  Here's hoping it'll be less contentious than the storm that was Tekken 7.

For all details on these and more, follow the links down below, as always:



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See you at the movies!   
 

Thursday, September 20, 2018

Anatomy of a Scene: "Test Drive" - How to Train Your Dragon


(This is the first part of a new little segment I’ve started.  Here, we’ll analyze some particularly memorable scenes from movies or television, picking them about and discussing what made them so memorable in the first place.)

Anatomy of a Scene

“Test Drive”


The How to Train Your Dragon series is a standout among DreamWorks' usual animated fare.  The stirring tale of a young outcast and his bond with an injured dragon in a fictionalized fantasy Viking setting transformed a relatively obscure children’s book series into a spanning, acclaimed franchise with enough grit, tenderness, and powerful narrative to rival the very best of the Disney-Pixar canon.

But one scene stands out among all the others in this 3D gem, and that's the much revered "test flight"  sequence of protagonist Hiccup and his dragon compatriot Toothless.  





This beautiful scene struck a memorable chord with many moviegoers, and I hope teasing apart its myriad segments will foster an even greater appreciation for the power it holds.

The Background
The entire lead up to this scene paints a telling backdrop of Hiccup and Toothless' journey to this point.  Hiccup, Viking intellectual and eternal outcast, had spent the first half of the film learning all he can about dragon behavior and flight.  While his kin saw dragons as nothing more than dangerous nuisances, Hiccup surmounted both his intrinsic fear and the perils of peer pressure to bond with the beasts, and it was all thanks to Toothless.  Said dragon has his own journey to make, as in his own silent, snarky way, he climbs out of a pit of mistrust and irritation and towards trust and eventually friendship.  Acknowledging this two-way journey of both boy and dragon matters in the test flight scene, for the joint threshold they both must cross together elevates Toothless above the narrow characterization of "steadfast steed" typical in most film flight narratives.

In other words, Hiccup and Toothless both have a stake in this flight.  Indeed, you could argue that it means much more to Toothless than to Hiccup. Hiccup didn't need to manufacture a tail for the fallen dragon - especially if he just wanted to use Toothless to learn enough about dragons to impress the village with his prowess.  Flight amounts to a new bridge to cross for Hiccup, but for Toothless, it represents freedom and strikes to the core of his very being.  Taking to the air again reconnects him to a part of himself, and adds more feeling to the flight sequence.

The Scene
0:02: We enter the world space through a far shot of Hiccup and Toothless in mid-air.  How they got there doesn't matter; the film had built up Hiccup’s growth and studies from virtually the first ten minutes of the movie; this is merely the culmination of that. We can therefore focus on the dynamics of the flight alone.

0:05: Hiccup gives his nervous, “by the numbers” spiel, hoping for a nice, easy flight.  It’s easy to forget that this isn't the pair’s first time in the air together; that honor goes to a brief, thirty second flash of failure before their extended training montage.  But Hiccup still hasn’t gained sufficient confidence despite his practice, and it shows; he’s fidgeting atop Toothless, clutching a small cheat sheet of positions for his scaly friend’s prosthetic tail like a lifeline.
Here Hiccup behaves as he’s always: the nervous newcomer, not certain if he has the strength or will to pull this off despite his practice.  He fails to see that he’s pioneering a completely new direction not only in Viking/dragon relations, but for how his people define martial mastery.  This overt humility will come back to bite him later, but for now, it remains a stance we the audience wish to see him overcome.

0:14: Toothless - the other partner in this mid-air tango - is simply enjoying the view.  Unlike most flight sequences in other films, Toothless is neither an inanimate vehicle, nor a dumb (in both senses) brute who’s inner world and reflections of the flight bear no consequence.  While Hiccup is forging new space no Viking has gone before, Toothless is at last getting his long-awaited chance to taste the sky again.

0:18: The intersection of music and perspective intrudes heavily at this point to bolster the scene's narrative “omph.” Composer John Powell, who rightfully earned an Academy Award for his work here, captures the spectacular awe and freedom of flight with the “Test Drive” score the scene is named for.  As Hiccup gathers his courage, the soaring pipes and brasses hum and turn, rising in crescendo almost in time with Hiccup and Toothless’ turns and dives.  Meanwhile, the camera never puts the audience in a first-person view; these shots give the impression of flight as “thrill ride” for the audience, unacceptable for such a narrative-centered scene.

But keeping the camera either centered at the frame, or in a forward traveling point-of-view Toothless' back, keeps the flight sequence focused on its emotional impact without unseating Hiccup from his centrality to the narrative unfolding.

0:30: Both narrative utilities - music and perspective - thrust to the forefront as Hiccup utters “It’s go time,” and begins their flight in earnest.  The track’s Celtic tone switches on the intro of a deep, booming French Horn, while we get a rolling back view of Hiccup’s descent.  This is the “magic shot”: the tonal crescendo showing the audience that, however many times the movies have beaten the flight trope into the ground, it can still soar with spectacular wonder.

0:52: This brief, comedic intermission, a necessary trip in Hiccup’s path, shows his hesitancy and inexperience as a flyer, heightened by the ear slap delivered by his snarky steed as if telling him, "Get it together!"  Besides providing some funnies, it serves another purpose: to lull both Hiccup and the audience into false security before taking a sudden turn.

 Thresholds are a crucial part of any narrative, and is especially critical for adventure tales like How to Train Your Dragon.  Thresholds require some catalyst to push our hero from who his is to who he will become, and Dragon provides that with a momentous fall.   

1:14: In a brief moment of abandonment to the freedom of the air, Hiccup disconnects from the fragile harness keeping them afloat while grabbing for his cheat sheet.  This transition puts an earmark on Hiccup’s growth, and reveals some hidden depths in our young hero.  Even during a terrifying free fall - arguably the first such experienced by any Viking -  Hiccup has the presence of mind to not only angle himself into an effective boxman position, but to also guide a frightened Toothless through righting himself.  Such aplomb under fire is a key leadership trait, and hints at better days ahead for our boy.

1:45: Once securing Hiccup and his “steed,” the scene enters its crowning climax, framed by Powell’s stellar, on-point track, with Toothless flaring his wings just in time to avoid collision with the trees below.  The angle, once again, is over the back, giving a sweeping view of the certain death our protagonists narrowly avoided.  The miniature wake turbulence streaming from Toothless’ wings combines with the perspective to give audiences an exhilarating shot without moving the focus from the characters.

1:52: We arrive at the scene’s fulcrum, the tether anchoring it to the narrative and to Hiccup’s growth.  Despite the clear danger ahead, Hiccup somehow still clutches his “cheat sheet” against all logic, and despite the fact that it very nearly killed them.  

Fortunately, the forces of turbulence step in to wrench him from that crutch, rendering the paper unreadable.  With the rock pillars ahead, Hiccup faces the same choice as all who aspire to mastery of a particular art: Do I continue to follow a beaten path, or should I let go and let my instincts guide me?

 And it isn't just his personal growth at stake here.  Toothless’ frightened face looms large in the scene, and is likely in his own way urging Hiccup to make up his mind.  This is the most prominent example of Toothless’ vital place as an agent in this matter; Hiccup’s decision won’t just affect him, but the life of another intelligent, sentient being depends on it, too.

1:55: And that's why seeing him expunge the cursed document from his hands felt so satisfying.  The music starts its final push, and Hiccup assumes an assured place atop his mount - a far cry from the clumsy, hesitant posture before.  The background flows past the central frame, but our eyes remain locked on Hiccup and Toothless as they whizz past obstacles and even pull off an impressive aerial  trick - all on instinct, and with an assurance Hiccup has not displayed up to this point.  Here, at the threshold of uncertainty and experience, Hiccup ceases to be “the boy with the forbidden friend,” and becomes, in earnest, the first dragon rider.

Aftermath     
Flight sequences well executed always leave an impact on audiences, however many times they’ve been paraded onscreen year after year.  This is arguably the best use of narrative transition for a character’s personal growth in the recent 3D film marketplace, and its near-perfect execution has left audiences the world over in awe.  In one scene, Hiccup redefines both himself and his relationship to Toothless, and paves the way for heightened expectations for his character arc.  Through their spatial mastery, Hiccup and Toothless cement their bond and in the process, together become something much more than what they had been separately.  The rest of the movie, and the series, follows from there.

Thursday, August 2, 2018

August Releases

August Releases



Ah, August: Tinseltown's red-headed stepchild when it comes to box office firepower. Okay, maybe that's a little unfair - or, maybe, it's right on the target. Let's see: we've got the paranormal teen fantasy escapist adaptation; the meme-to-big-screen creepypasta adaptation; the original boy and his dog story; and, oh yeah - pundit Dinesh D’Souza's latest summer "documentary" claptrap. Out of all those, only Alpha - which admittedly gave me a case of the misty eyes when I first saw the trailer - avoids triggering my "avoid like the plague" instincts.  It probably helps that it's a rare and refreshing breath of originality in a cinema swamp routinely flooded with sequels, adaptations, and remakes.  Though on that note, another flick worth taking a gander at is Disney's Christopher Robbin, a mix 3d/live action spin on A. A. Milne's beloved characters.  It seems to sparkle with charm and Winnie-the-Pooh's homespun wisdom devoid of pretense, and if nothing else, may at least provide a palette cleanse after Peter Rabbit's, shall we say, "liberal" take on Beatrix Potter's classic tales earlier this year.
   


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See you at the movies!  You know, maybe. 

Friday, July 27, 2018

All Might and Deku: a Relationship in Five Openings





My Hero Academia has been a darling of Animanga City ever since it strolled into town a few years ago. Kōhei Horikoshi’s superhero shonen adventure about a boy striving to become a hero against all odds has captured the hearts of even the most jaded manga fans worldwide thanks to a deceptively simple story that nonetheless touches some deep and prescient lessons on the risks and rewards that come with following your dream. The anime adaptation has also been praised for its stellar music, stunning yet succinct fight scenes, and overall tight narrative that breaths with the warmth, humor, and odes to the possible inherent to the source material

Whole volumes of hyperink have been dashed out on various aspects of the series, but I’d like to focus on just one tiny part of this brilliantly composed shonen epic: the anime openings.  That’s right, with the second half of season 3 underway and the fifth OP out, I will examine a theme I've noticed running through all the openings: the evolution of the series’ most crucial relationship - that between our hero-to-be Izuku “Deku” Midoriya and his mentor Toshinori Yagi, aka All Might, the world’s greatest hero. All five openings sprinkle little hints about where their relationship stood at the time, and show us how Izuku grows to see All Might less as an idol and more of a comrade and father figure as time passes, while All Might evolves into a more complex figure, with his own hurdles to move past. I won't give a play-by-play of all parts of each and every opening, as many others have before me. I examine the Deku-All Might relationship alone, with glances at other parts just to highlight their ever-changing dynamic.

Opening #1: The Eternal Longing

MHA’s first opening, “The Day” by Porno Graffitti, establishes in the first few shots what will be a recurring image in the rest of the openings: All Might standing in the light, his back turned to the viewer, while bathing in a shower of sparkles. We only get glimpses of the big man himself at first; parts of his body that, when combined, make a whole. We then cut Izuku, his huge eyes bursting with wonder as they fill the screen, and soon realize that we’ve been seeing All Might this whole time the way he sees him: powerful, godlike, and larger-than-life - so much so that Izuku needs to work up the effort just to glimpse him in full, magisterial form. Stuck in the shadow of All Might's radiance, Izuku can only stare in awe before stretching a hesitant hand out to touch him.  Perspective is key here, for we don't know how close Izuku actually is, but it doesn't matter for the metaphor at play. All Might represents the impossible goal, an ideal that seems too far to reach no matter what Izuku does.  At this point the boy is still an outsider, something the rest of the opening really drills in.  He wears a tense, unhappy expression the entire time, combined with frequent shots of him strolling through the rain lost in thought.  He seems detached and disconnected, either weighed down by the impossible goal of being a pro hero without a quirk; or, post meeting with All Might, now heavy with the burden of being a (potentially inadequate) inheritor of a tremendous power he has yet to understand, let alone master. Izuku seems locked in the role of eternal spectator, longing for a dream bigger than his ability to grab it, and the two don’t even share the same frame until the very end, with the fledgling hero now nervously under All Might's tutelage along with the rest of his new classmates.

Opening #2: The Dream in Reach  

“Peace Sign,” performed by Kenshi Yonezu, brings on a small but noticeable shift in the hero/protégé dynamic. Not much hints yet at the deeper relationship the two have begun to forge in the series, but Izuku’s perspective has certainly changed for the better. Standing from a high place, he sees All Might in the distance, leaping between skyscrapers, and smiles, something totally absent in "The Day." The top hero may remain out of reach, but Izuku's eyes now sparkle with a determination to catch up to him. The sky is clear and blue - again, a nice contrast to the first opening, where the dreary overcast mirrored Izuku's burdens and inability to see past his assumed inadequacy - and its reflection in his eyes matches the clarity of focus he now has due to his relationship with All Might and his newfound friends. With his mentor no longer an impossible hurdle to climb over, Izuka now has a course of action, a chance to make his dreams come true, and he's taking hold of it with gusto.  All Might isn't seen again until he makes his signature dramatic entrance towards the end, dropping down at the head of a group of our main characters.  Pay attention to how everyone is positioned: All Might stands at the front, while a line of first teachers, and then students, zoom out to finally reveal Izuku at the very back.  The message is clear: All Might is the goal, and Izuku is still at the starting line, behind a host of more experienced mentors and more naturally talented peers.  But while the race ahead will be long and daunting, it isn't as flat-out hopeless as it seemed before. And thanks to All Might, Izuku feels up to the challenge.

Opening #3: Face to Face At Last


Now we’re getting down to business. “Singin' to the Sky” by amazarashi is definitely my favorite opening by far - nothing else even comes close. Note the radical departure it makes from the other two in how Izuku - or rather, Deku - relates to All Might. Unlike the impossible dream in the first opening, or the distant yet obtainable goal in the second, All Might now squares face-to-face with him for the first time. The initial scenes show Deku dispelling some of a misty gray fog with his fist, before All Might, in typical dramatic fashion, comes spiraling out of the sky to land in front of him, bringing the sun and banishing the rest of the haze. They exchange warm smiles and clasp hands in a gesture of comradery. This shows just how close the two have become, as well as how their student/mentor relationship has blossomed; though Deku now charges down the path of a hero-to-be, he still needs his idol to light the way. Still, Deku activating his Full Cowl in the middle of it points to a central theme of this arc: despite all his admiration for All Might, he’s steadily moving out from the shadow caused by his blind admiration, slowly but surely making One For All his own. But there’s another change with the opening, and that’s with All Might himself. Until now, he's been more an idea (or ideal) than a person; he is Deku’s dream, his goal, and the few times we see him, he’s either posing or socking baddies in the face with his awesome self. But after Deku punches the title card into being, we’re treated to a more contemplative All Might standing on a rooftop, as images of his two masters flash by. In other words, All Might - or more specifically, Toshinori - is becoming a more human figure in Deku’s eyes. He’s flawed, he makes mistakes, and while he’s every bit the hero Deku and everyone else admires, parting All Might the myth from Toshinori the man is a significant step in how his student (and the audience) relates to him.

Opening #4: Deku Steppin’ Out


UVERworld’s "ODD FUTURE" continues the same theme developed previously, but with a few odd twists. For one, it’s definitely more Deku focused in the beginning, but 10 seconds in we’re given a major tease related to Toshinori’s background: the moment he received One For All, tying more into the expansion of the character as a person in our eyes. After that, we see him and Deku sitting together on a park bench. That’s it, really; they’re not posing, or locked in combat, or anything of the sort. They’re just kind of chilling, hanging out and enjoying each other’s company while cherry blossoms - known symbols of life, death and renewal in Japan - dance around them. This is the culmination of their relationship on a personal level; All Might has become a familiar and comfortable presence to Deku. But the real clincher comes at the very end, when Deku, rising from the ground, stares determinedly into the distance, while the swirl of smoke behind him clears to reveal All Might, staring off with him. Long gone are the days when All Might was practically a god to him, admired but so out of reach; he's become a mentor, a friend, a true comrade in arms setting their sights on the same goal. The fact that Deku stands in front is notable, for whatever goal lays before them, it clearly belongs to him. Deku's ambitions no longer orbit around being like All Might or making him proud. Right then, at the opening's end, it's all about his fight, his focus - with All Might behind him as if to say, “I’ve got your back.”

Opening #5: My Story


And now we come full circle with the aptly named "Make My Story" by Lenny code fiction. This one is all about Deku, with All Might faded into the background, with a few significant peeks here and there. For one, there’s a blink-and-you-miss-it shot 28 seconds in, where Deku hesitates while watching his classmates jump into the fray. He then gets a gentle push from behind by All Might, setting him off while Toshinori looks on in pride. The names are there for a reason; All Might’s muscular hand is the one giving him the push, showing that while Midoriya is still unsure of himself and whether or not he has what it takes to be the new Symbol of Peace, the spirit of his mentor - of the perfect hero All Might - still moves him forward. But it’s Toshinori - thin, frail, and newly depowered - who now stands behind Deku, waiting to give aid and advice if and when his successor falls. But there’s a bit of a down note in all of this, one shared with Deku's rival, the ever-temperamental Katsuki Bakugo. Towards the end, we see the image of All Might standing with his back to us as so often in previous openings. But the brilliant sparks of light and flowing cape befitting a dazzling Symbol of Peace have all vanished. He stands against a bare, stark-white background, as washed and faded as the powers he used to wield so masterfully.  His shadow trails behind him, connecting to both Deku and Bakugo. Both boys, for different reasons, feel the fall of the house of All Might as a more personal burden than anyone else, but for Deku in particular, the reality of it brings a daunting challenge: the Age of All Might has ended, and now, the Story of Deku truly begins - whether he’s ready or not.

These are just a few of the observations most readily apparent from a quick look at the openings; more could be mined by comparing lyrical content, as well as context from the show. But even with what’s given, the openings share much about the iron bond between Izuku and Toshinori - how it has grown, and where it may go next.