His Dark Materials: The Abyss

    We’re on the homestretch now.

With this episode, many of screenwriter Jack Thorne’s choices in adapting Pullman’s work have become clearer, particularly in the cause/effect nature of his original story additions. I’m speaking specifically of what exactly happened to Alarbus, the intercision device, and Metatron reaching down from the sky with a beam of heavenly light to detonate the bomb.

As Mrs Coulter very helpfully spells out for us, Metatron was responsible for the bomb going off, and did so in retaliation for Asriel’s “war crimes.” It’s a continuation of the scene between Ogunwe and Ruta of a few episodes ago, in which they pondered whether the angels would continue to stand with Asriel if they found out what he’d done to Alarbus.

Their question isn’t exactly answered here (since the angels on Asriel’s side still aren’t aware of what went on behind closed doors) but that basic idea is still carried into this episode, with Mrs Coulter drawing that correlation between Asriel’s treatment of Alarbus and Metatron’s decision to make bomb go kablooey.

His Dark Materials: No Way Out

Okay, so I have to correct two things from prior episode reviews. One is that Lord Asriel didn’t murder that angel after all, he apparently just sort of forcibly sent him back to the Authority’s throne room in order to deliver a message. The other is that the mulefa do utilize the oily seedpods to roll around on, even if the designers couldn’t find a way to replicate the diamond-shaped skeleton described in the book.

So that’s something of a relief, even though it’s unclear how exactly the mulefa are using the seedpods. You’d still need some sort of opposable claw to use as an axel, which doesn’t appear to be the case here – instead, they’re using seedpods as a form of roller skates. I’m not sure that looks better than what Pullman described in writing, but the episode I watched unfortunately didn’t come with any subtitles, which presumably would have helped explain the symbiotic relationship between the creatures, the pods, and the trees.

Genderfluid Person of the Month

Nimona from Nimona

I have to admit, I was not thrilled at the first glimpse of Nimona in the teaser for the film named after her. Between the Dreamworks Smirk (so punchable) and Chloë Moretz’s singsong delivery of lines like “this is the part where you run” and “that would be me,” my first impression was that she was going to be agonizingly obnoxious.

But almost as soon as she appears in the film itself, it becomes clear that her attitude is a protective front against a world hellbent on destroying her. The most surprising thing about Nimona is that she’s technically not a child – she’s over a thousand years old, and the monster of legend that Gloreth defeated in order to found the kingdom.

That’s given her a lot of time to build up her defences, and when we first see her she’s very much embraced her role as an anarchic villain in a Then Let Me Be Evil sort of way, with a gleeful excitement about the thought of causing fear, mayhem, public damage, and even death (though I don’t think she ever goes that far).

I love her design: she’s simultaneously round and soft and circular, denoting youth and innocence, but also clad in spiky armour with pierced ears and little fangs, illustrating the protective layers she’s put up between herself and the world. And yet she’s also pink, the colour of warmth and love and vulnerability. Her entire personality is all there in her default appearance, which is ironic considering she’s a shapeshifter.

A flashback sequence about three-quarters of the way explains her history, and it’s a heartbreaker. A shapeshifter with no family of her own, she attempts to integrate herself among various groups of animals before finding a human friend. The two get along well, and Nimona even finds the courage to divulge her shapeshifting abilities – which her friend accepts.

But it all goes wrong when others discover what Nimona is capable of, and soon the inevitable torches and pitchforks emerge. Most tragically, her friend (revealed to be Gloreth) turns on her, not out of genuine malevolence, but peer pressure and the contagious nature of fear. Sometimes that’s worse than an out-and-out betrayal, and it neatly explains Nimona’s profound distrust and dislike of other people.

Because even though it's subtle, you can’t talk about Nimona without discussing the transgender allegory. For the record, Nimona presents as female throughout most of the film and (if memory recalls) is referred to with she/her pronouns. But she shapeshifts into a little boy a couple of times, not to mention all those animals, and there are plenty of conversations that take place which have her explicitly reject any labels put upon her: “I’m not a people” and “Easier to be a girl? Easier for who?”

Eventually a poignant conversation between Ballister and Nimona takes place in which she divulges how she can change and what that means to her. She’s given the opportunity to describe how the process feels: “I feel worse when I don’t [change], like my insides are itchy. You know that second right before you sneeze. That’s close to it. Then I shapeshift and I’m free.” Her shapeshifting isn’t just a device to set her apart from others, it reflects her own rejection of a fixed identity.

It might be lost on very young viewers, but the subtext is woven deeply into the narrative, from the Director preying on the fear that Nimona is a shapeshifter and therefore cannot be trusted, to Nimona going to such a dark mental place that she considers ending her own life. It’s so easy to manipulate people’s fear, to gain power through their dread of the unknown, and to scapegoat anyone who is the least bit different. The machinations of the film’s true villain are frightening because her tactics are so familiar.

And in the end, all it takes is someone to simply see Nimona for who she is, and let her know that she's not alone. The story is filled with these sorts of reflections and analogies, right down to the final tearing down of the fortified wall, originally built for the safety of the citizens within, but eventually revealed to be hiding a beautiful vista of mountains, valleys and streams. The unknown isn’t always terrifying.

Reading/Watching Log #92

Another month flits by, are you tired of me continually pointing that out? The thing is, with my new job taking up so much more time than usual (largely through the commute) I have far less time to write this blog, which means there are much longer gaps between posts – which in turn makes it feel like time is moving at a much brisker pace than usual.

I’m definitely ready for it to be summer again, as the cold and dark always gets me down, but I’m chugging through my Slavic Fantasy reading list, and a never-ending supply of graphic novels (every time I think I’m done, another one nabs my attention). I’m definitely on the home stretch with Spooks, and nearing the thirties in The Babysitters Club. I carved out time to watch two oldies (Gaslight and The Seventh Seal) as well as the long awaited Nimona and – it was inevitable – Barbie. Plus, after my work’s movie night last month, I found myself on a bit of a The Sound of Music kick.

And if you're wondering why the formatting looks so wonky on this post, well it's because my computer has updated and essentially fucked everything up. It also took away my ability to open up sub-folders containing pictures in my sidebar, and completely eradicated bookmark manager, which let me search for specific webpages by typing them into a search engine instead of scrolling through the entire bloody list from the top. Updates! Making everything a THOUSAND TIMES MORE OF A HASSLE TO OPERATE. If you're going to change things, fine. Just change it into SOMETHING THAT'S NOT WORSE. AAARRRRGGGHHHHH.

His Dark Materials: Lyra and Her Death

We’ve reached an episode in which the structuring makes a lot of sense to me, with each plot-thread focusing on mother and daughter separately trying to negotiate a hostile environment with their charm, wits and ability to convincingly lie. Each one is motivated by love, and each one’s course of action leads them to a betrayal caused by that love.

In Lyra’s case, it’s having to leave Pan behind in order to reach the Land of the Dead. In Mrs Coulter’s case, it’s realizing she’s delivered the means to her daughter’s destruction to those willing to use it. The scenes from each storyline flow in and out of each other nicely, and the restructuring of the books chapters works extremely well.

The material is taken from two-and-a-half chapters that centre on Lyra (“The Suburbs of the Dead”, “Lyra and Her Death” and “The Harpies” – though they’ve obviously held back on the harpies for now) and one revolving around on Mrs Coulter (“Mrs Coulter in Geneva”). Neither one feels rushed or truncated, and I suspect Jack Thorne may have gotten his inspiration from the quote at the beginning of Mrs Coulter’s chapter: “As is the mother, so is her daughter” – Ezekial.

Links and Updates

It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these, as there’s really not a lot to look forward to, is there.

Still no confirmation on a third season of Shadow and Bone, which would finally give us the Ice Court heist, and given that there’s a major writers’ strike going on, chances are Netflix will drop it. For the record, I fully support said strike, but... well, maybe we should start getting used to the new normal: stories that simply don’t have an ending. 

Heck, they’ve already cancelled Cuckoo Song before it even got into production.

On the horizon is a whole heap of nothing: a reboot to the DC Cinematic Universe (a new Clark and Lois were announced today), more meaningless Star Wars movie sequels (sorry, but given Disney’s track record I’ll only believe they exist when they’re actually in theatres), and a Harry Potter television show (guess that five-film plan for the Fantastic Beasts movies didn’t pan out).

There’s going to be a Frozen 3 (inevitable), a Zootopia 2 (meh), a Toy Story 5 (how many bittersweet endings do they plan on giving this franchise?) and a Shrek 5 (I would have been indifferent except that Puss in Boots: The Last Wish was unexpectedly delightful). Twilight is getting turned into a TV show. And superheroes. So many more superheroes.

I AM BORED I AM BORED I AM SO SO BORED. Remakes and reboots and sequels and prequels and mid-quels and legacy-quels and an ever-spiralling, never-ending assembly line of live-action reimaginings of stories that were animated in the first place for a reason. I mean honestly, a live-action Moana announced only seven years after the original was released? Are you shitting me??

This is where our obsession with nostalgia and the capitalization of stories has brought us. Why invest in something new and exciting when we’re apparently happy to watch regurgitated sludge for the millionth time?

And what’s the point of getting excited about stuff like a live-action Avatar: The Last Airbender remake anyway? Netflix is just going to cancel it after the first season. And with the onset of A.I. created art and ChatGPT written scripts, I can pretty much guarantee it ain't gonna get better.

So, on that cheerful note, here are some other things to get annoyed about:

His Dark Materials: The Intention Craft

Three episodes in and we’re nearly halfway through the book! Obviously this show plans on being extremely back-heavy, as this particular episode neatly covers only three chapters: one in which Will and Lyra plan their next move, one in which Iorek helps to reforge the subtle knife, and one in which Mrs Coulter is captured by Lord Asriel and promptly escapes onboard an intention craft.

Mary still hasn’t reached the mulefa yet (she’s already spent two chapters with them in the book) but it looks like we’re finally getting some forward momentum on that front, along with some extra bits and pieces courtesy of Jack Thorne.