Showing posts with label comics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comics. Show all posts

Is There a Problem with the Fantastic Four's Racial Casting?

Yes, but it's not the one you might think.


The internet was momentarily distracted a few months ago (you know, for a change) over the casting decisions for the upcoming reboot of Marvel's Fantastic Four film franchise.  The specific item which attracted the most attention was the casting of Michael B Jordan as Johnny Storm, the Human Torch.  Jordan, you see, is an actor who happens to be black, while Johnny Storm has historically been a white character.  Predictably, The Worst People on the Internet lost their little minds.  Like clockwork, the racists cried their petty tears about having to see a black person, and the rage-nerds (who swear they're not racist; they're just saying) rent their clothing and wore ashes over tradition and things taken away.  We're not here to talk about them.

And yet there IS a problem here; it's just not that problem.  First, let's talk about who the Fantastic Four are...


Reed Richards was a college science professor doing research into cosmic rays and other next-next level cosmological studies.  He designed a rocket so he and his team could breach outer space and study the effects of these rays.  The rockets shielding was inadequate, and the team was exposed to the cosmic radiation, causing each of them to manifest strange and unique powers.  Reed became super-elastic, and was dubbed Mister Fantastic.

His pilot, Ben Grimm turned into an orange rocky mass with incredible strength, and was thus called The Thing. Ben is unable to revert to human form, and Reed goes through bouts of guilt where he tries to "cure" his condition.  These attempts have always had little to no success, owing to the needs of an ongoing comic franchise, and it gives The Thing a certain tragic gravitas.

Reed's student, Sue Storm gains the ability to turn invisible through the conscious application of a force field, which she will later learn to expand and use as a shield, weapon and means of transportation.  She gets labelled Invisible Girl, later changed to Invisible Woman after she marries Reed and they have a child together.

Sue's kid brother, Johnny Storm goes along for the ride because, well, it was the 60s and who doesn't want a teenager on their first space flight?  Johnny can control fire, including wrapping himself in flame, shooting it from his hands, and using it to fly.  He becomes The Human Torch.

All of these characters were originally white, being creations of the early 60s, though they did play host to one of Marvel's first high-profile black characters, The Black Panther.  So what's the problem with making one of them black?  Nothing, really, except that the choice of WHICH one reveals all kinds of problems, and they all lead back to crass and callow tokenism of the most antiquated fashion.

Why not Reed?  Reed is the team leader, and as the last 6 years have demonstrated abundantly, there are far too many Americans who are pathologically incapable of accepting a black man in a leadership role.  The furor would have been many times bigger had Reed been black instead of Johnny.  There's change and then there's Change, and some people can't handle either.

Why not Ben?  Ben turns into a creature of orange rock.  Casting him as black would have been a moot point and we might forget to pat the producers on the back for their brave heroism.

Why not Sue?  Ahh, now we're getting somewhere.  Why NOT Sue?  Sue and Johnny are sister and brother.  For them to have made Johnny black and not Sue will require some nudge to their story where Johnny was adopted or (most likely) taken in by the family (aww, that was mighty white of them).  While not a big deal on its own, it draws attention to the fact that they specifically wanted Sue to remain white.  Why?  Because Sue marries Reed.  We don't care that a college professor with graying temples marries his former student, but AW HAIL NAW can they be an interracial couple.

In other words, the producers want to be seen as brave challengers of convention, they just don't want to take the chance of actually being brave challengers of convention.  Troublemakers don't set opening weekend sales records.

So why Johnny?  Johnny is the young one of the group that everyone tolerates but rolls their eyes at.  He's seen as a hothead who's always the first to "flame on" in a situation of conflict, and as such, everyone talks down to him and tells him how he should behave.  He's the show-boater.  Hm.  I'm not saying that's why they chose him because I don't really think that it is (offering them the benefit of the doubt) but I find it... interesting that that's what they found palatable.  They chose Johnny because, as illustrated above, the couldn't chose anyone else.  So the REAL reason they chose him was because they decided from the start that someone had to be black, simply as a political response to the Amazing Spider-Man situation, where they (a different production company, mind you) could (and should) have cast Donald Glover and instead chickened out and cast pasty/annoying Andrew Garfield.

As such, it was neither a bold move, nor a creative one.  It was pure business.  Feign sympathy to the rising call for diversity, while at the same time coddling the intolerance and inflexibility of racists and rage-nerds.  What we're left with is a craven act of hollow value.  I appreciate that it might allow the next generation of black children to feel a little more included, but just a little -- let's not get uppity here.





Sequential Smarts

COMIC: Understanding Comics
Scott McCloud

Kitchen Sink Press (later editions; DC Comics and HarperPerennial) 1993


It's no exaggeration to declare that Scott McCloud's groundbreaking book, Understanding Comics is very probably the most important book ever written about comics, whether comic or prose. It's certainly debatable, but it's no exaggeration. During the 3 years that I taught comics classes at an art college in Portland, Understanding Comics was the required text for my classes, and although I never lectured from it, I frequently referenced it, and felt no guilt about about making it a compulsory purchase for a class that most students took just for fun. If they didn't "get it" then, at least they'd have it and be able to come back to it, because it's the kind of book that reveals new insight with every re-read; not just about comics specifically, but ways of looking at the world and human thought in general. It belongs in the collection of every person who has moved on to the question of "Why are comics cool?" whether they're coming from the direction of fanboy or skeptic.

I want to choose the right words here, to explain what Understanding Comics is to the uninitiated. I'm tempted to use words like "documentary" and "lecture series" but I'm afraid that the eyes of more skeptical or anti-intellectual readers will instantly glaze over and they'll fail to grasp how entertaining the material is in McCloud's hands. Firstly, Understanding Comics is a comic. It's a 215 page meditation on what comics are and what they can be. McCloud attempts to define what "comics" is, or are -- well, both really. He explores the language, time-bending nature, psychology, mechanics and approaches to comics, art in general, what comics mean, how they work, and the vast potential to which they can be used. He deftly sidesteps the question of whether comics can be "Art" with little more than a "Duh!" and goes on to treat them seriously as such, without bothering to validate such an ignorant question.

[Note to video game fans who are still surly with Roger Ebert for claiming that games can't be art: Rather than worrying about arguing with Ebert about whether or not they CAN be, the onus is upon us to demand more from our creators so the question becomes a moot one due to overwhelming evidence that they simply ARE. But this is a discussion for another day.]







McCloud walks us through the process of arriving at his definition of "comics." What he comes up with is a pretty broadly embracing definition, "Juxtaposed pictorial and other images in deliberate sequence." I'm still personally a little iffy on his definition. It excluded things like single panel cartoons, which, as I have argued directly with McCloud, create their own sequence owing to the placement of words relative to the image (example: a Family Circus panel with the text placed on the left of the panel by newspaper editors trying to cram more comics onto a page will not "work" the way it was intended when Bill Keane wrote it with the text appearing beneath the image).



McCloud's definition may also includes things like magazine articles which arrange photos throughout. The images may not tell a story, but they're definitely in deliberate sequence to "convey information and/or produce an aesthetic response in the viewer" [from McCloud's expanded definition]. Now maybe he intends the definition to be that embracing, although part of me starts to believe that it's so broad that it doesn't really define ("to fix or mark the limits of") anything. His functional definition, however, is "Sequential Art," and that's as useful a handle as anything. With this definition, he's able to explore the impact that the form has had on culture throughout human history, far beyond the commonly accepted late 19th century origins of comics.



It becomes difficult to describe much of what McCloud talks about without turning into a second-rate parroting of all the material he manages so well. It's clear that he spent a lot of time thinking about these subjects, and clarifying his thoughts before he decided to tackle it all in a book. Much like describing the book in total, trying to explain the individual chapters would betray the ease and expertise with which McCloud handles (at first) seemingly esoteric and academic topics. He never speaks down to readers who would ordinarily never touch such a theoretical work as this. He explains things clearly, and makes understand why you suddenly care about things you probably never gave that much thought to in the first place.

By presenting this information in comics form, McCloud not only makes the theoretical more palatable, but he validates many of his points by demonstrating the largely untapped potential of the medium to communicate and enrich. When I taught my comics classes, and in conversations with fanboys online, every once in a while I'll come across someone who'll tell me "I already understand comics." Of course, what they really mean is that they understand what they want comics to be -- specifically, masturbatory nostalgia and/or juvenile reinforcement of male identity imagery -- and they don't want someone coming along and telling them that there's more to the medium that they love (and want to keep trapped in a frozen infancy, like a child who wants their dog to always remain a dependent and controllable puppy) than what they've believed it was since they first huddled under the covers with a flashlight and a stack of hand-me-down issues of Spider-Man. Understanding Comics doesn't make value judgments on content. In fact, it barely discusses content at all. What it does is deepen and broaden the reader's concept of what comics are, and what they can be. That expands the view of the reader (or the non-reader, for that matter) and opens them up to greater experiences, and in so doing, fills them with a hunger for a more refined and adventurous menu of a wider world -- and isn't that what art is supposed to do, after all?


Crosspost Classic!  08.21.2007

"Best" of "2011"



The "best" of everything I read, saw, heard or played in 2011, regardless of its year of origin...

Books:

Wonder Struck by Brian Selznick (2011)
Fat Vampire by Adam Rex (2010)
The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation, Vol. 2: Kingdom on the Waves by M.T. Anderson (2008)


Comics:

Habibi by Craig Thompson (2011)


Film:

Hugo, directed by Martin Scorcese (2011)


Films on Video:

Near Enough:
Cedar Rapids, directed by Miguel Arteta (2011)
Love and Other Drugs, directed by Edward Zwick (2010)
The King's Speech, directed by Tom Hopper (2010)
Tucker & Dale Versus Evil, directed by Eli Craig (2010)

Dipping Back a Bit:
Sullivan's Travels, directed by Preston Sturges (1941)
Singin' in the Rain, directed by Stanley Donen (1952)
Remember the Night, directed by Mitchell Leisen (1940)
Topper, directed by Norman Z. McLeod (1939)
Irma la Douce, directed by Billy Wilder (1963)
My Man Godfrey, directed by Gregory la Cava (1936)
Ninotchka, direct by Ernst Lubitsch (1939)
The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer, directed by Irving Reis (1947)
The Lady Eve, directed by Preston Sturges (1941)
The Great Dictator, Directed by Charles Chaplin (1940)
Trouble in Paradise; directed by Ernst Lubitsch (1932)
How To Murder Your Wife, directed by Richard Quine (1965)


Television:

The only thing I HAVE to watch in a week is Community, but I have to give credit to Parks & Recreation for a REALLY good season so far.


Music:

Too little new stuff I've wanted to hear and too much good old stuff to choose either way. Dennis Coffey had a good one and I really enjoyed the Wake Up! RADIO remix of John Legend & The Roots' album from the previous year. The Roots' own Undun is pretty fantastic, and I really enjoyed following Madlib's Medicine Show releases.


Games:

LA Noire
Fallout: New Vegas
Call of Duty: Black Ops

the entire Nintendo DSi XL experience


Movement:

Occupy