Reading/Watching Log #102

This month was all about The Dark Crystal and Shakespeare, though thanks to having a fortnight of annual leave, I also managed to churn through several shows that I’ve been meaning to get to for ages (the first season of The Terror, the third season of A Discovery of Witches, and The Tudors).

Altogether, I got through a huge range of stuff, from my usual Babysitter Club instalments, to long-gestating Dark Crystal supplementary material (most of which was in graphic novel form), to a couple more girl detectives, to all the drama and tragedy and comedy that the Bard has to offer.

In short, a good reading/viewing month, and if it took ages to post this one, it’s because I’ve been nursing a head cold that just won’t go away.

Xena Warrior Princess: Paradise Found, Devi, Between the Lines, The Way

It’s been a long time since I lasted posted some Xena Warrior Princess reviews, as my newish DVD player doesn’t read my considerably older discs, which means I have to go elsewhere to refresh my memory on how these episodes played out, and that depends a lot on whether assorted family members are willing to let me veg out on their couches for an extended period of time. (These reviews were written years ago, but I still like to have some recollection of what I’m actually posting about).

For this entry, I’ve decided to feature four rather than the usual three episodes, as this quartet neatly encompass the entirety of the India arc. Plus, there are twenty-two episodes per season, so at some point I always have to add an extra episode to a post so everything fits.

The India arc is arguably what season four is best known for, and I’m pretty certain there were some recreational drugs being passed around the writers’ room while they were being conceptualized. Shit gets weird. Furthermore, when it comes to the show’s treatment of India’s culture and religion... holy cultural appropriation Batman! In particular, “The Way” is filled with apologetic official disclaimers, for even back in 1998 there was pushback against using other people’s belief systems as a backdrop for your cheesy fantasy series.  

Let’s get to it...

King's Quest: The Perils of Rosella

The fourth instalment in the King’s Quest series feels like a natural follow-up to its predecessor. If King’s Quest III made former protagonist King Graham’s son Alexander its playable character, it makes perfect sense for King’s Quest IV to focus on his daughter, Princess Rosella, introduced at the very end of the previous game in which she's rescued from a three-headed, fire-breathing dragon by her long-lost twin brother.

Indeed, it’s such a no-brainer for the focus to move to Rosella, that The Perils of Rosella literally picks up seconds after the previous game’s conclusion, with Graham deciding to give up his adventurer’s cap (a symbol of his glory days) and pass it onto his children, flinging it through the air towards them as his wife Valanice looks on.

The twins reach up to snatch it from the air, when all of a sudden Graham grabs his chest and lurches over in pain, the victim of an apparent heart attack. He’s taken to his bedchamber, and overcome with grief, Rosella flees back into the throne room, where a voice from the magic mirror tells her there might be a way to save him. In the glass, Rosella can see a beautiful fairy, who tells her of a magical fruit in the faraway land of Tamir which could restore her father to full heath.

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.