Woman of the Month: Rogue

Rogue from X-Men

When I hear the words “X-Men,” I think of Rogue. No, she wasn’t in the original line-up of Professor X’s student body/private militia, and she isn’t the most iconic character in the team (you know full-well who gets that honour, as it’s one so pronounced it coined its own TV Tropes page).

But for me, Rogue embodies what the X-Men are all about as a concept and a symbol better than any other carrier of the x-gene in that ever-growing array of mutants. Her powers and personality make her the quintessential X-Man (or Woman), exemplifying how a mutation can be both a blessing and a curse. She’s capable of absorbing the strength, memories, personality traits, or – in the case of mutants – abilities of others, with just a touch of her hand.

It has the potential to make her one of the most powerful mutants of all, though the downside is that her touch can be fatal to whoever’s on the receiving end. This means she’s entirely without the ability to enjoy physical relationships: no hand-holding, no kisses, no... you get the gist.

I’m not a comic book reader, so I can’t tell you much about her origins. I tried looking it up on Wikipedia, and to be honest, it read like complete gibberish. Apparently, her first appearance was in an Avengers comic? And then in something called Rom the Space Knight? I’ve never even heard of that. She was raised by Mystique, absorbed her flying and superstrength powers from Carol Danvers (yes, that Carol Danvers), spent some time as part of the Brotherhood of Mutants, and embarked on an extremely fraught romantic relationship with fellow team-member Gambit.

Since then, she’s become a permanent fixture of the X-Men franchise, appearing in nearly all of the cartoons and live-action films that have been adapted over the years. Though I have no clear memory of it, I would have been introduced to her through the 1992 – 1997 animated series that I watched as a kid. And though I can’t truthfully called her a “revelation,” since you take everything for granted at that age, she definitely imprinted herself on me.

She flew. She was superstrong. The skunk stripe in her hair? The bomber jacket? The accent? I wanted to be her so badly, I didn’t even care about the whole “you can’t touch people” thing. That moment in the opening credits in which she flips a sentient over her head is still one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen a female character do in a superhero show.

There’s another scene I recall in which the team is attempting to escape a ship through an automatic door. The combined strength of Beast and Wolverine can’t keep it open, but Rogue flies up and holds it above her head until everyone can get out safely. No fuss, no commentary, no embarrassed looks or self-deprecating comments from the menfolk – she just hauls it out of the way and they get on with the job at hand.

These days, half the audience would have an absolute conniption at such a scene.

Adaptations that followed demonstrated the versatility of Rogue as a character: in the Fox live-action movies she was depicted by Anna Paquin as a vulnerable teenage runaway. In X-Men Evolution, she’s reimagined as a Goth girl whose clothing and makeup project the physical barriers between herself and others. In the short-lived Wolverine and the X-Men, she’s (excuse the pun) gone rogue, and infiltrated the Brotherhood in order to get intel on their goings-on.

A southern belle, a moody Goth, a frightened teenager, a double-agent – Rogue could be any and all of these things, and it’s a testament to the strength of her character that each of them works on-screen.

Also notable is that for a long time, her real name went unmentioned in the comics; almost twenty years in fact, until the live-action film in 2000 called her “Marie,” and the comics followed suit by finally revealing her name as “Anna Marie” (though her surname remains a mystery). Then there’s her on-again, off-again romance with Gambit, which surely comprises the most iconic couple in the entire franchise, barring only the whole Jean/Scott/Logan love triangle fiasco. 

According to my research, the two of them have finally gotten hitched in the comics and are enjoying married life together. I’ve no idea how they’ve gotten around the whole “I’m an energy vampire who can destroy people with a touch” thing, but given that I shipped them before I even knew what the term meant (heck, before the term had even been invented) this makes me very vicariously happy.

And seeing her again in X-Men ’97, complete with her original voice actress, is a complete mind-melt. For all my issues about reboots and remakes and legacyquels, I have no complaints when properties I enjoyed as a child are brought back and made better.  And as ever, Rogue embodies my favourite kind of female character: completely badass exterior, soft and vulnerable on the inside.

From about the age of six, if you asked me who my favourite superhero of all time was, I would say Rogue all the way.

Reading/Watching Log #101

It is now autumn, daylight savings has finished, and I’m officially in my cold and miserable state of mind.

Because I still have a surplus of annual leave that I have to take, I have another two weeks break coming up – and I’ve decided to use them by turning this month into Dark Crystal May. I have a ton of graphic novels from the franchise that I haven’t had a chance to crack open, so now’s the time to do it (I keep seeing those Tumblr posts circulating that warn people not to save the good stuff but to USE it as soon and as often as possible – that goes for books as well as soaps, candles and other luxury items). So I’m looking forward to my return to Thra.

May also means the return of Interview with the Vampire and Doctor Who, and a couple of weeks ago I watched the first few episodes of both Shōgun and X-Men ’97… so I’ll press on with those as well.

I’m also continuing my “girl detectives” themed reading with a couple more titles in that genre, which will probably stretch out into June the way I’m going. Plus, the third books in Katherine Arden’s Winternight trilogy, and Philip Reeve’s Utterly Dark trilogy. So many things, so little time.

As it happened, I also rewatched Nimona and Enola Holmes 2 this month in order to write-up my Top Twelve list for 2024, but I won’t comment on them here. Ditto Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, which was the film chosen for our last movie night at work (bringing us up to a total of three films in a row that involved a. sticking it to the Nazis and b. a woman called Elsa (or Ilsa).

Top Twelve Best Film/Television Moments of 2023

I’ve managed it at last: my final annual end-of-year post. This one was meant to wrap up the year by listing the Twelve Best Moments of Film or Television in 2023, but Covid and full-time work have delayed it until now.

What’s more, 2023 was a difficult year for me in regards to actually finding noteworthy moments to write about, and you’ll discover that the entries on this list often have more to do with “ideas” or “concepts” or “designs” than actual scenes.

The other reason this list may feel a little thin is because I didn’t watch much new stuff this year – I’m sick of starting things only to watch them get cancelled, so 2023 had me seek out entertainment from ten or more years ago, where I could be assured of a beginning, middle and end to any given story. To do otherwise is just a waste of precious time.

Which means that much of what is featured here are from projects released at the tail-end of 2022, though I’ve always allowed myself a bit of wriggle room on what constitutes “the year.” Anything from the nineties is way out, but anything released between 2020 to 2022 passes muster (provided I actually watched it in 2023).

So, here we finally are – the Top Twelve Best Moments of Film or Television in 2023:

Woman of the Month: Xiao Qiao and Sun Shangxiang

Xiao Qiao and Sun Shangxiang from Red Cliff

You can usually be assured of one – but only one – decent female character in a historical epic, but anything more than that (agency, a relationship with another woman, an important part to play in the action, passing the Bechdel Test) is less of a guarantee. So, when a film gives you more than the bare minimum, it’s a cause for celebration. Say for example, two female characters.

But you know what writers and audiences love? Putting women in binary roles, and then pitting them against each other. The good girl and the bad girl, the Madonna and the Whore, the Dark or Light Feminine, feathers or flowers, Maidens and Crones. Usually if there are two women in a male-dominated story, they’ll be bland BFFs (Cecelia and Blanka), bitter rivals (Morgana and Guinevere) or have nothing whatsoever to do with each other (Rowena and Rebecca). Complex dynamics are completely out of the question.

Where am I going with all this? Xiao Qiao and Sun Shangxiang of Red Cliff manage to avoid many of the pitfalls of the gendered archetypes mentioned above, even as they embody others. Together, they very much form the two halves of the Tomboy and Girly Girl binary. Xiao is demure, feminine, soft-spoken and elegant, who is renowned for her tea-making skills and functions as a nurse during the war effort. In stark contrast, Shangxiang is argumentative, outspoken, determined and sometimes downright rude, who is an active participant in the combat that the entire film revolves around.

But the most important thing about both their characterizations is that neither depiction of womanhood is held up as superior to the other. Let’s be honest, modern audiences tend to prefer the scrappy tomboy to the prim little madame (say, Arya and Sansa) though in the times in which these stories are set, it would have been the Proper Lady who would have garnered the most respect. But in this case, Xiao and Shangxiang are portrayed as equals.

That in itself is worthy of commentary, but what fascinates me even more is that this balance is reflected in the structure of the film itself. In part one of the story, Xiao is positioned as the impetus for the war (Cao Cao’s lust for her is his primary motivation), but it is Shangxiang’s arrow which draws first blood from the invading enemy forces. In part two, both women play a crucial role in the final victory: Shangxiang’s undercover reconnaissance provides essential intel regarding Cao Cao’s forces, while the film’s emotional climax sees Xiao on a mission of her own, walking into enemy territory with the goal of distracting Cao Cao long enough for the wind to change and her husband's plan to work.

Basically, Shangxiang is Mulan (with a small dose of Éowyn when she finds out the hard way that war is not as glorious as she imagines it) while Xiao reminds me a little of Elinor from Brave, especially since Red Cliff finds a way to weaponize tea-making in the same way that embroidery was the key to breaking the spell over Elinor in Brave. It’s not just Xiao’s beauty, but her feminine skill with a brew that successfully stalls Cao Cao at a critical moment.

Between them, these women essentially begin and end the war. They are counterweights to each other across the film’s two halves, and the pivot is the scene – the only scene – in which they interact with each other. As it happens, it’s a warm and affectionate one, in which Shangxiang asks for assistance in removing her garments, and Xiao tries to protect her friend’s modesty by silently warning the men to turn around.

[Context: Shangxiang has concealed the large map of Cao Cao’s encampment underneath her armour, wrapped around her body, and is too excited to share what she’s learned to wait for any privacy].

That’s all we get from them, but somehow it’s enough – an interaction between two women that manages to be close and intimate despite occurring in a room full of men.

Neither woman could do what the other one does. Furthermore, no man could do what either of these women achieve (that goes without saying when it comes to Xiao, but the reason Cao’s men are so easily drawn into Zhuge Liang’s trap after Shangxiang fires her arrow is explicitly because the soldiers refuse to be intimidated by a girl). One is not braver than the other, for both walk knowingly into the enemy camp, albeit in profoundly different ways, and emerge victorious. 

They are more than the archetypes they embody, for their opposing feminine energy makes them perfect foils to each other, and are intrinsic elements to the plot itself. Best of all, they’re not rivals but friends – this is made very clear, even if we only catch a glimpse.

Reading/Watching Log #100

It was historical epic movie month at my place. I don’t talk about this genre often, but I love a good historical epic, provided they capture the essential balance: deeply personal stakes set against a grand backdrop of historical import. Too many don’t realize that this is the secret ingredient, and it’s easy to pinpoint the great epics from the lesser ones based on this criteria.

The Woman King revolved around the relationship between a mother and her daughter. Arn has the love story between its leads. Red Cliff went for the genuine camaraderie between the allied forces. The emotional stakes of Gladiator were spread a little thin, with Maximus’s bond with his dead family, Lucilla, Caesar Aurelius and his fellow gladiators all vying for space, but the culminative effect does the job. Kingdom of Heaven... has none. I’ll have more to say below the cut.

If it looks like I managed to watch a lot of television this month, it’s more accurate to say I finished a lot of television this month. I started the third season of Elementary back in January (it went on hiatus for my three-weeks leave) and I’ve been watching one episode of The Gilded Age per week with mum since last year. It all just happened to conclude in March.

And I am slowly but surely plugging away at my stack of library books. Once they’re done I’m going to be concentrating on my own damn books for a change.

Oh, and look at that – this is my one-hundredth reading/watching log! I probably should have done something special to commemorate the occasion. Probably.

Links and Updates

I know it’s been quiet on this blog for a while, but I really am trying to pull together my Twelve Best Scenes for 2023! Until then, let’s discuss the fact there’s been an insane amount of trailers for blockbuster material released in the last couple of weeks, including from the Big Three Franchises (Game of Thrones, Star Wars, MCU).

Let’s take a look...

Woman of the Month: Queen Margrete

Queen Margrete from Margrete: Queen of the North

Three months into 2024 and I’m already struggling to fill these posts. But luckily, I watched this film just last night and Queen Margrete more than met the qualifications for a worthy Woman of the Month.

There are plenty of stories out there concerning women who have to chose between their careers/personal ambition and their families/pursuit of love, but seldom has that conflict been placed in the context of a 14th century queen who rules subtly but firmly behind her adopted son, King Erik, and has worked her entire life to form a lasting peace between Denmark, Sweden and Norway.

Now at age fifty, her life’s ambition is about to come to fruition, with leaders of all three countries pledging support for the Kalmar Union. I honestly can’t think of another film that revolves around a woman of her age and power, in a (relatively speaking) accurate historical setting, grappling with a moral crisis like the one presented here. Because just as the treaty is to be consolidated, a young man returns to court, claiming to be Margrete’s long-dead son Oluf.

If true, this would make him heir to the Danish throne, and a threat to Margrete’s life’s work.

Should she act as a mother or as a queen? Emotional complexity is derived from the fact that after fifteen years, she barely recognizes the man claiming to be her son, and has since replaced him in her heart with her great-nephew Erik, who is himself starting to act on the resentment he’s long harboured against her for uprooting him from his childhood to become her heir, not to mention the power she still holds over the court.

Trine Dyrholm delivers a fantastic performance as Margrete: she’s authoritative but not overbearing; unsentimental but not cruel. Poised, self-contained, shrewd and charismatic, she walks and talks like a queen, yet interestingly, never comes across as ruthless despite what she’s called upon to do. She is a mother, but she is also a leader, and the struggle to balance the two states never ends.

Thankfully, she’s spared any anachronistic “girl power” moments in which she vents her frustration at the oppressive nature of the patriarchy – instead, the film shows us how she has to tread carefully so as to not emasculate her adopted son, to continually stroke the egos of the men that surround her, and to never come across as too weak or emotional during the public trial of her supposed son. The difficulties of being a woman in a man’s world is apparent in every scene she moves through, and it’s all demonstrated without being commented upon.

When she makes her final choice, it’s to protect her true child – not Oluf, not Erik, but the Kalmar Union. But there’s nothing triumphant or “yaas queen!” about it. The last words her son speaks to her are: “you weren’t strong enough,” to which she replies: “no, I was too strong.” Despite the conflict and regret in her heart, she’s uncompromising, and the film makes sure we’re aware of the aftermath: that the Kalmar Union lasted over one hundred years, and that the bond between the three countries that lasts to this day can be largely attributed to Queen Margrete.

But like a lot of rulers, she (or at least this fictionalized account of her) had to pay a bitter price for it.