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By Kane Simon Geary O'Keeffe The explosion of Irish media representation in the last ten years is readily apparent. Just last year, Irish produced film The Favourite (2018) swept awards ceremonies. As well as that, Cartoon Saloon has become an internationally successful animation powerhouse. While this relatively recent rise in worldwide attention toward the Irish entertainment industry is more than welcome, it has also served to highlight some of the issues of representation that said industry faces in our country. With more eyes on our visual media than ever before, it has never been more important to focus on how we as a people are represented on screen to this international audience. Unfortunately, throughout the last ten years or so, the depictions of the Irish people in our own mainstream media have had a damaging effect on our image, as we are often relegated to roles such as criminals and other forms of ‘crook.’ These negative depictions of the Irish people, coupled with our tendencies to accentuate the portrayal of our negative stereotypes on screen, means that while we as a nation might certainly be on the rise with our presence on screens around the world, we are still far off from an ideal industry. Inclusivity is an extremely important part of portraying a nation’s people on screen. While it’s great to see many depictions of our working class on screen, since Love/Hate (2010-2014) became a huge hit at the beginning of the decade, the dominating image of Irish people on our screens has shifted to include a criminal element to that working class image. The depiction of the Irish as a criminal people has become more and more prominent in the years since Love/ Hate’s release. The success of Films and T.V shows such as The Young Offenders (2016), Cardboard Gangsters (2017), Michael Inside (2017), and Between The Canals (2010) have brought this damaging image of the Irish as a people who seem to take pride in a criminal identity into the spotlight. The fact that many of these are distributed internationally by Netflix only ensures that this starts to become the more prominent image of the Irish people in the minds of international viewers. Many if not all of these films and shows have predominantly Irish production crews, so it is even more unfortunate to see that this issue of representation is being perpetuated by ourselves. It may be an attempt from us as a country to break away from the ever popular image of the rural, devoutly religious villagers that still permeates our culture, but this extreme flip from one side of the coin to the other is having equally damaging effects on the depiction of ourselves as a people. Even characters in shows that have become international phenomena like Peaky Blinders and Mrs Brown’s Boys have included Irish characters that are defined by their willingness to commit crimes and live a less than desirable, and often illegal, lifestyle. If we are to grow as a people towards an ideal film industry in Ireland, it may be a good idea, as well as our own responsibility, to show modern international audiences that we are more than organised drug dealers and criminals, and instead strive to bring more facets of our proud and multi-layered culture to the screen. The issue with our own representations on screen does not end with our gravitation towards this prominent criminal image. The Irish as a people have faced issues in recent years with distancing ourselves away from the negative stereotypes that we are commonly associated with. The ever present Irish mammy, the fighting alcoholic (although the image of alcohol pretty much stretches across all depictions of the Irish), and the ‘Holy Joe.’ These stereotypes often cast us as a conservative nation, stuck in the past. However, as our recent referenda have shown, this is far from the case, as Ireland is often seen to be at the forefront of international social progress.
This position is not adequately shown on our screens, as our media tends to cling instead to these dated and damaging stereotypes. Mrs Brown’s Boys once again comes to mind as one of the more famous examples of this in practice. The controlling image of the ‘mammy’ forms the fulcrum around which the show revolves. Mrs Brown herself is problematic in that she represents a time of conforming to traditional gender roles that is best left in the past. Her supporting cast is equally problematic. Not only do we have Buster, who once again becomes the embodiment of this new ‘urban criminal’ type. We have the holier-than-thou ‘Father Damian’ and Mrs Brown’s own son Trevor, another priest. The show also relegates its only queer characters, Ruairi and Deano, to stock stereotypes whose only function is to be the butt of jokes, often in poor taste. Mrs Brown’s Boys is far from the only culprit here. Films produced in our own country, such as Grabbers (2012), in which Irish islanders can only keep hungry monsters at bay through consuming dangerous amounts of alcohol, and The Guard (2011), in which the central character, Brendan Gleason’s titular guard, declares that “racism is part of my culture,” continue to portray us in a less than desirable light. While at times, the utilisation of these damaging images is part of a comedic attempt at self parody, often it only serves to add to the depictions of problematic stereotypes that will continue to shape how international viewers perceive the Irish people. As part of the oncoming journey towards our ideal film industry, it is essential that we as a people become more aware of these negative stereotypes and controlling images, and instead take this opportunity to show our country and our people for what they are and will continue to be: a center for inclusion and social progress. I hope to see our screens become a place where Ireland is shown as an island firmly rooted in the future, instead of the past.
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By Maire Murphy Opening your eyes, you find yourself looking in the mirror. You blink, and your reflection mimics, you allow yourself to be as you are, and your reflection copies, without hesitation.
Turning on your screen, you catch a glimpse of your reflection again- except this time it looks slightly different; a little taller, nose minorly longer, no birthmark between the freckles on your cheek. But there it is, staring back at you; a version of yourself only separated from you in minor surface incontinuities, sharing your dreams, your values, the realities of your life; blinking with you, reflecting you. You can see yourself, you hear your voice speak to you, and to me, this is the ideal film industry. Without wanting to seem cliché, I truly believe there really is no end to the degree of power in representation. With the recent pushes towards a more diverse variety of character types in the film industry, we see a broader range of voices reaching larger audiences, sparking a conversation on representation, and what inherently makes good representation. Whilst these strides have been far larger recently than they have been historically, we still have so much further to go in accurately telling every story. In my ideal film industry, representation would not come in the form of a token character, thrown in to promote the modern, progressive views of the creator. It is not the character added to gain a show a positive media image, but rather the character that has been researched, the character you invest time into trying to represent accurately, a character speaking to the real people who see themselves in it. It is the character written by the people who feel its impact the most, or the character written by the person who has taken the time to learn how that character would act, free of stereotypes, full of life. Good representation is not about destroying everything about the modern film industry; it is about incorporating in more diverse voices, about allowing the space for new narratives. In my ideal film industry, the people recruited behind the scenes would be an accurate representation of a real society; allowing different voices to provide new understanding and perspective. When one begins to argue that the people who are likely to succeed in an industry are swayed to a certain demographic, people begin to put up walls of defense. It can make people who fit that demographic feel uncomfortable, because of their wishes and dreams of succeeding in the profession, or irked, because the media often blames the lack of off and on-screen representation on them. To criticise all in that demographic is to miss the point of representation: it is not about getting rid of those whom cultural and ethnic reasons have previously favoured, but opening up the discussion on how improvement could be made with better diversity behind the lens. With statistics from most national film boards, we see the progress we have made in increasing the range of stories that reach media attention, and in who is likely to get a position in the film industry. But we can also see how far we have to go in allowing more diverse representation, and the only way to move forward with this topic is to discuss it. Seeing oneself onscreen is an incredible and healing thing for so many, as they are finally able to see their reflection represented, their stories told, a space to grieve the hardships they share with the characters and to celebrate the obstacles overcome to get there. It can change how people view others; opening their eyes to new perspectives, and it can change how we view ourselves, allowing us the space to accept our differences as a positive thing. It is for these reasons that my ideal film industry is a place of equal opportunity for all. Representation is powerful, and necessary in creating the films of tomorrow. It redefines what it is to be normal, and what it is to be human, and paves a new future for storytelling. By Adam Barry Murphy In a perfect world…
There would be more opportunities for films that aren’t superheroes punching each other, And easier access for beginner filmmakers, Equal opportunities for people of all denominations, Mad Max: Fury Road and Blade Runner 2049 play indefinitely in cinemas… …but this is not a perfect world. By Kane Simon Geary O'Keeffe As with almost all forms of art, film as a medium enables us to view how the world around us impacts the cultural products of any given time. From social changes to political agendas, film as art holds a mirror to many facets of society, both past and present. This mirror often allows us to look back on films that were shaped by the society of their time, permitting us to observe just how instrumental ideologies and politics are in moulding films as they are being produced. During a recent viewing of the action classic, Top Gun, I was startled to find just how poorly the film has aged as a result of it’s being a product of its time. More specifically, a direct product of president Ronald Reagan’s political and economic ideology. I was shocked to find the film, one so successful upon its release, to be one that has become, in my opinion, almost unwatchable to today’s audience. To further understand how such a highly talked about classic of action cinema has aged so poorly, I had to look back to the political climate in which the film came about. Released in the summer of 1986, Top Gun, directed by Tony Scott, was introduced to the world at the height of president Reagan’s eight year stretch as president. The America of the time was still very much engaged in a flag waving competition with Russia as a result of the ongoing Cold War. Reagan’s political ideology was one that carried with it a strong sense of patriotism, and belief in the power of the military. At the same time, his economic ideology was one that called for a sense of individualism, as long as that individualism also lined up with the beliefs of the government at that time. Each of these ideologies are exemplified perfectly within Top Gun, and can be seen most obviously as being personified by the central character, Maverick, played by a then 24 year old Tom Cruise. Maverick as a character stands for all that is good in Reagan’s America, and as such, the audience is taught to admire him. He is a handsome, charming, exciting fighter pilot. Also, he is patriotic as they come. Equally important, however, is the fact that Maverick is a rebel, not one to follow the rules. At first glance this may seem to instill a sense of individualism in the character, but upon further observation we can see that this sense of rebelliousness and arrogance in Maverick dissolves in the face of authority. This all sums up to make Maverick an archetype of Reagan’s ideal citizen. An individual, but one whose ideals line up with the beliefs and ideologies of their government. The influence of Reagan’s ideology in Top Gun is not only limited to its main character. It is also evident in the film’s imagery, and its use of semiotics to instill these ideals in the viewer. This is most easily identifiable during the film’s opening credit montage. Here the mise en scène consists of many elegant shots of aircraft taking off and being tended to by military personnel, who are shot in an equally graceful fashion. What is most notable about this sequence, however, is that all of these figures, as well as their planes, are presented in these opening shots are silhouettes. They are shown without distinguishing features. This is utilised to convey to the audience that these elegant personnel could be anybody. From the first four minutes, Top Gun is conveying to its audience the sense that “this could be you!” These shots also serve to highlight a sense of symbiosis between the person and their aircraft, further cementing these pro-military ideals. These pro-military ideals are not just limited to theory in regards to Top Gun. It is well-documented that this would become one of the first films to establish a military entertainment complex that is still very prevalent in today’s blockbuster landscape. This complex works by means of providing inexpensive access to military resources for film productions. As a result of this, the military then gains considerable influence over that film’s script, ensuring the film aligns with government policies and does not paint either the military, or the pentagon, in a negative light. As explained definitively by Robert Anderson, the Navy’s Hollywood point person, to PBS in 2006: “If you want full cooperation from the Navy, we have a considerable amount of power, because it’s our ships, it’s our cooperation, and until the script is in a form that we can approve, then the production doesn’t go forward.” Top Gun remains a landmark example of this system at work. The production crew of the film was granted unrestricted access to aircraft for only 1.8 million dollars, a meager amount considering the multi million dollar budgets of blockbuster films, 15 million dollars in this specific case. In exchange for this, the military was given a weighty influence over the script, and as such, made many changes,cementing that the film would support the dominant patriotic, pro military, Reaganist ideology of the mid 1980s. One such change was in regards to Charlie Blackwood, played by Kelly McGillis. Her character, who eventually becomes Maverick’s love interest in the film, was originally written as an airforce officer. However, due to romantic relationships between military personnel being prohibited, she was rewritten at the request of said military and was instead introduced in the film as a civilian contractor to the Navy. Other changes include the switch of Goose’s death from a mid-air collision to an ejection sequence, as the navy were unhappy with the depiction of pilots crashing. The military entertainment complex not only ensured that Top Gun would become a more direct product of Reagan’s militarist politics, but it also established a relationship between Hollywood and the Pentagon that continues today, with their continued influence seen throughout the 21st century.This has resulted in the production of relatively few anti war films, and an abundance of blockbusters that glorify the military, with examples that include films such as Black Hawk Down, the Transformers franchise, and Zero Dark Thirty. Ultimately, these ideological factors lead to Top Gun becoming a huge financial success at the time of its release. With its depiction of Reaganist ideals, the film resonated with audiences who were living amongst these ideologies at the time and ultimately earned almost 357 million dollars worldwide, the equivalent to of 816 million dollars today. This significant box office haul would be in line with today’s major studio releases, such as the blockbusters released by Marvel Studios.
This financial success is notable as the film was not particularly well received by critics. During my viewing I found that it is not difficult to see why, with the film practically bursting at the seams with cliches and tropes, not to mention it’s frustrating overuse of Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away” and Kenny Loggins’ “Highway To The Danger Zone” from the movie’s soundtrack. Ultimately, I found that the central cause of Top Gun’s failure to resonate with today’s audience is that we no longer live in the period of Reaganist ideology that permeated every layer of the film. The political landscape has experienced drastic changes in the decades since the film’s release. As such, the link between the film and its audience has become disjointed, hence, the film has aged poorly in the eyes of the modern audience who simply are not imbued with the same ideals as those who first watched this action staple. While I cannot remove Top Gun from the pantheon of classic Hollywood action films, I do think that a re-evaluation is in order, as where my parents may jump in excitement at the very mention of Mr Cruise’s “Need for Speed,” I will sit back, curling in fear of the next cringeworthy piece of dialogue, or the dreaded opening notes of “Take My Breath Away” as they come to take yet another two hours of my life to thirty year-old Reagan town. I just hope the planned sequel (once again starring Cruise, as he just….does not go away) does not subject itself to the same shortcomings that have tarnished the original since its days in theaters. By Kane Simon Geary O'Keeffe Stieg Larsson’s posthumously released crime novel The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo introduced readers to one of the most intriguing characters in modern fiction when it released Lisbeth Salander, goth superhacker, unto the masses. Her enigmatic personality pulled audiences through a wringer of violence and intrigue over the course of the book’s story. Fans did not have to wait long for two major film adaptations to follow closely behind Salander’s blood soaked trail: 2009’s depiction, directed by Niels Arden Oplev, and 2011’s version, brought to the screen by David Fincher. While the book’s narrative remains mostly intact across both cinematic adaptations, key changes and creative choices led to many of the story’s characters and themes taking on new shapes. In this piece I will take a closer look at Salander herself, and her relationship with our other protagonist, Mikael Blomkvist, from the two distinct viewpoints of Oplev and Fincher. I will be looking at how these directors, as well as the actors they worked with, created vastly different interpretations of key moments of the book’s plot, along with our tattooed protagonist. I also intend to observe how the variations between these key moments in these two versions of the story explore the book’s feminist themes, such as empowerment through violence, in ways that help to form three very distinct works of fictions, all within the same envelope of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. It can easily be argued that the characters of Larsson’s novel greatly outshine its story. The complex characters of Blomkvist and Salander flourish amidst the backdrop of a relatively by the numbers ‘whodunnit’ case. This is a testament to the strength of these personalities and their relationship with each other. This relationship is a key example of how elements of character can be lost or warped upon translation to the big screen. The blueprint of Blomkvist and Salander’s strangers-turned-colleagues-turned-lovers relationship remains concrete between Oplev and Fincher’s takes on the text. However, the distinctions between the two serve to form very different interpretations of our titular anti heroine. Larsson notes Salander’s distant approach to her relationships towards others, stating that she has an “attitude [that] encouraged neither trust nor friendship” (p.45) This note plays heavily in Fincher’s remake. Rooney Mara brings to life a woman trapped in her own web: before we meet her she has no personal relationships outside of her male guardian, the only man she feels safe around. This is notable in that, despite their supposedly close friendship, their interactions are limited to chess games, a game based on methodical thinking alone, leaving no room for bonds outside of the mind. This completely detached depiction of Salander extends to her blossoming relationship with Blomkvist. Despite Blomkvist’s respect for her privacy and his admiration towards her, such as when he states ‘I’d be overjoyed if my memory was what yours is’ (p.390) their relationship remains purely sexual. Her stoic, hardened character pulls the audience into seeing her as nothing short of badass as she exacts revenge on the crooked men that find their way into her life. This can be seen in the the violent degradation of her second guardian and rapist, Bjurman. Bjurman is everything Salander has fought against during the course of her entire lifetime, a man of power who sadistically abuses his status to manipulate and abuse women. Salander’s bloody revenge against the man that savagely raped her allows Fincher to establish her as an unrelenting symbol of empowerment through violence. Mara’s Salander is purely methodical--she rarely shows even a slight sign of weakness in her steel gaze across the almost 3 hour film. We never hear her say how she’s feeling, and this contributes to the enigma that makes this portrayal so endearing. The same cannot be said for the character seen in Oplevs’ version, famously brought to life by Noomi Rapace. Rapace’s salander is far less mysterious, and as a result, far less powerful on screen. She gives up this power as she openly discusses her feelings at certain moments. This can be seen when she admits her feelings for Blomkvist to her mother, seen when she acknowledges that “there is someone” that she has feelings for. This open conversation about her feelings later extends to a public display of affection, in the form of a kiss between her and her colleague-turned-lover in their last encounter, which leads to her running in embarrassment. This serves to draw the audience away from her hardened, violent demeanour. We immediately see her as young girl, embarrassed at the thought of falling for the successful, womanising older man. Not only is this a classic trope of ‘lesser’ genres, such as the romantic comedy, but it damages the notion of her ever becoming a force for female empowerment. She falls in love with the very same kind of man that brutally took advantage of her in the past. These actions significantly dampen her acts of strength, such as when she exacts revenge on Bjurman, and serves to paint a much less powerful character. A young girl who, while more human, fails to become the strong concrete example of radical empowerment that is her American counterpart. The definitive moment that solidifies this distinction between Mara and Rapace occurs during the final moments of Fincher’s film. Fincher decides that Salander is at her most potent when she is saying nothing at all. He chooses to convey her inner turmoils and feelings through subtle but meaningful actions, keeping her stoic demeanour intact while humanizing her. In his film’s last scene, we watch Salander as she prepares to surprise Blomkvist with a gift. As she buys him said gift, the shop worker notes that Blomkvist must be a good ‘friend.’ Just a few minutes later, Salander drives to Blomkvist’s home, watching from a distance as she discovers him walking away with another woman. Salander then proceeds to toss the gift into a skip, before driving away as if nothing happened. This small action allows Fincher to define many aspects of her character, all while creating a wholly satisfying ending. The tossing of the gift into the skip reveals to the audience that Salander does in fact harbour feelings for this man. It allows us to see that she can be hurt like any other woman can. Simultaneously, Fincher’s direction shows us that his Salander is not somebody who will ever become a victim again. Her nonchalantly tossing her gift, as well as her feelings, away at the mere prospect of being emotionally hurt by Blomvkist satisfyingly leaves us with a character that, while human, stays true to the strong, no nonsense persona that we find so enticing as an audience.
Fincher and Oplev both take creative liberties in regards to the various subplots and relationships. In particular, the presence of two of Blomkvist’s love interests, Cecilia Vanger and and Erika Berger. It is easy to see that both directors wanted to keep the light on Salander, even if that meant blurring other noteworthy female characters into the background. Fincher is less to blame for this, as he does bring Robin Wright Penn’s talents in to portray Erika in his version, allowing the audience to have a glimpse at her decisive and authoritative role as Millenium Magazine’s editor, albeit in a limited role. Meanwhile, neither character is present for more than a quick glimpse in the Swedish adaptation. While at first glance, both movies appear to be stylistically similar, upon a deeper examination it is easy to see the drastically different approaches each of the filmmakers have taken in regards to their productions. This is particularly evident in the soundtracks of these adaptations. Fincher brings back Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, his award winning collaborators from The Social Network (2014) to compose his film. The result is a dense, three hour long tracklist brimming with industrial synths and creepy synthetic tones. Reznor, known for creating complex electronic soundscapes with his band, Nine Inch Nails, manages to wrap many of the story’s thematic beats in his work. This can be seen in tracks such as “An Itch,” which captures the distorted moans and screams of women, buried under intense percussion. This can also be observed in his industrial rock cover of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song,” as he utilizes a wailing female vocalist, Karen O, while also shrouding her screams in blasts of techno and distorted guitar, leading the listener through a battle of a voice aching to be heard amidst the dominating sonic backdrop of Reznor’s design. Jacob Groth, composer of Oplev’s film, takes a much more traditional approach to his composition. The track “For Harriet” utilises orchestral layers and strings to create a cathartically positive swell, as Groth attempts to convey the film’s theme of familial strength over time. His spare use of electronic instrumentation works well for creating moments of tension when needed, but overall it pales in comparison to Reznor’s artfully dense score, and fails at capturing the film’s more central themes in the way that is present in the American film. It has been shown, therefore, that while both the Swedish and American adaptations of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo seem woefully similar on the surface, many of the subtle differences present in each visual representation conjure up dramatically different renditions of The titular character, and as a result tackle the idea of female empowerment through violence in radically different ways. I find that Fincher better conveys Salander as a concrete example of this idea, through both her own actions and her relationship with Blomkvist. In contrast, Oplev’s film features a Salander that undermines her own empowering revenge quest by falling into the role of a lovelorn and embarrassed young girl. Neglect of female side characters and plots are also present across both adaptations. Overall I consider Fincher’s film the superior work as he better represented the core facets of Lisbeth’s character and relationships as presented in Larsson’s book, as well as more consistently depicting the story’s key feminist themes. By Thomas John Moore Released on Netflix on March 8, After Life is like nothing Ricky Gervais has worked on before. Taking a more serious approach than the likes of The Office, there is more of a focus in this series on dark humour. In this exploration of love, loss and self-discovery, Gervais has come out with one of the most thoughtful, introspective pieces of writing for the television screen that I have had the honour to experience. After Life follows the story of Tony, a lonely, angry widower who has given up on life. Depressed and suicidal, Tony comes to the conclusion that he can now live out the rest of his days without fear, doing whatever he wants whenever he wants, safe in the knowledge that he always has suicide to fall back on if things go wrong. To that end, Tony continues to work at the local newspaper, a dull, seemingly pointless job with co-workers toward whom he is constantly unapologetically rude. As the people in his life try their best to comfort him and make him happier, Tony’s newfound outlook leads him to mix with people he otherwise would not, including drug addicts and sex workers. As Tony forges new relationships, it becomes apparent that perhaps his character is not quite as clear-cut as he thinks. The relationship between Tony and his dog is a highlight of the series. Throughout Tony’s internal struggles, his dog represents all the love that he has locked away deep within his heart since the death of his wife. Every time he contemplates suicide, the dog is there to stop him from being able to go through with it, as he knows deep down that he still has love to give, and that there remain elements to life that are beautiful, but that he is currently blind to. At the end of the day, After Life is a story about a man’s love for his wife, and the grief that he has to suffer through in the wake of her death. It also focuses on the undying support that those close to Tony show him, even as he blatantly disrespects them. The true message of the series is that there is always hope. Even in the darkest of times when everything seems pointless and all Tony feels is pain, he finds it in his heart to stay alive so that someone will be around to feed the dog. He still has hope for the world, even as he is hurt and directionless.
Ultimately, After Life is a story that causes the viewer to review their way of looking at life. Personally, I feel completely different having watched this series. I have a newfound appreciation for the world and the many different ways we as humans can positively affect the earth and the lives of those on it. A sometimes heart-wrenching, somewhat heart-warming, and often comedic tale of love and redemption, After Life is the most personally impactful television series I have experienced in a long time. I implore you to watch it. By Cian Griffin Since its inception in 2008, the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has become a juggernaut in modern day multiplexes. Starting with Iron Man, the Marvel heroes have gone on to become household names that have gathered millions of fans across the world, raking in over sixteen billion dollars at the worldwide box office. With this great global fanbase comes a great responsibility to represent these multitudes of fans on screen and promote diversity in the modern-day blockbuster. For the most part, Marvel has delivered on this front. While slow at first, the Marvel heroes have become gradually more diverse, branching out of white male heroes and embracing different types of heroes. For example, in 2018, Black Panther became a global sensation and had huge cultural relevance, featuring a predominantly African and African American cast. The same year, Ant-Man and the Wasp was the first Marvel film to feature a female character in the titular role. This new wave of diversity looks to continue with Brie Larson’s Captain Marvel (2019) becoming the first female hero to lead her own solo film. Scarlett Johansson’s Black Widow character will also lead her own film and an all-female Avengers film is also in development. A new film centring around Shang-Chi will become the first superhero film to feature an Asian lead character and a potential Nova movie featuring Sam Alexander would be the first superhero film to have a Latinx character in its central role. The future of the MCU looks bright, not only representing both male and female heroes but ethnically and culturally diverse heroes too. This is an extremely positive moment in modern day movie making, proving that lead characters can be more than just white men. However as a young, gay Marvel fanboy, I cannot help but wonder where the LGBTQ+ representation is in the MCU. Across 10 years and 21 feature films, we have been introduced to countless heroes and supporting characters, but there is a clear lack of LGBTQ+ representation. Of the estimated 67 characters in 2018’s Avengers: Infinity War, not even one was openly queer. In fact, we have only been introduced to one openly queer character in the form of Tessa Thompson’s scene stealing and kick-ass Valkyrie in 2017’s Thor: Ragnarok (2017). Even at that, Valkyrie never openly addresses her sexuality in the film. In an earlier cut of the film, one scene did hint towards her sexuality. The scene in question featured another woman leaving Valkyrie’s bedroom and heavily implied that the two had slept together. The scene was ultimately left on the cutting room floor with those involved citing “timing issues”. However, following the film’s release, Tessa Thompson (an openly bisexual actress) took to Twitter to assure fans that Valkyrie was indeed bisexual. Apart from Valkyrie, an early cut of Black Panther featured a scene referencing the relationship between two members of T’Challa’s elite bodyguard squadron, the Dora Milaje. However when the film was released in cinemas, the scene was nowhere to be found and was not even featured in the deleted scenes accompanying the film’s home release. Twice now, scenes featuring LGBTQ+ characters have been cut from Marvel films which raises the question: were these cuts purely creative or is there more to it? It is possible that Kevin Feige and the rest of the creative team at Marvel are trying not to alienate part of their audiences. Even in 2019, some people are still not accepting of gay characters in films. For example, look at another Disney project, 2017’s live-action Beauty and the Beast for a point of reference. As soon as director Bill Condon referenced LeFou’s sexuality and a scene featured him dancing with another man (which lasts all of 4 seconds), the film was banned in several cinemas across the US, banned completely in Malaysia and Kuwait, and a movement was launched to have it banned in Russia. Perhaps Marvel does not want a repeat of this, especially given that their films perform amazingly well in both the Russian and Malaysian markets. On the other hand, maybe these cuts are in actuality completely creative decisions with Marvel not finding the right time or place to introduce LGBTQ+ characters and do them justice. Head of Marvel Studios, Kevin Feige, has announced that the upcoming films in Phase 4 of the MCU will feature openly queer characters, so perhaps the future of the MCU will be a little more diverse in terms of representation. This now raises the question, as fans speculate what the future of the MCU hold who some of these characters might be. Here are a few of my suggestions which I believe would be perfect for the MCU: Wiccan: Billy Kaplan is the all-powerful, magical son of Scarlet Witch and one of the founding members of the Young Avengers, along with his boyfriend Hulkling (more on him later), who later goes on to replace Doctor Strange as the Sorcerer Supreme. With Elizabeth Olsen’s Scarlet Witch being a fan favourite in the MCU and receiving her own TV show on Disney Plus, it’s only a matter of time before we get introduced to her children. Wiccan would be an interesting addition to the MCU as not only does his powers expand the mystical side of the Marvel universe, but they also make for an exciting visual spectacle. Beyond this, Wiccan’s struggles with his own personal demons would make for a fascinating and layered character. In the hands of a young star like Timothee Chalamet or Nick Robinson, Wiccan could become a staple of the MCU akin to Tom Holland’s Spider-Man. Hulkling: You can’t have Wiccan without his other half, Teddy Altman a.k.a. Hulkling. This Kree/Skrull hybrid is the son of the original Captain Marvel and takes inspiration from Bruce Banner’s Hulk. With shapeshifting abilities and superhuman strength, Hulkling could be a juggernaut in the MCU, joining the ranks of Hulk and Groot as the strongest heroes. With the Kree-Skrull War and (spoiler alert) his mother Mar-Vell being featured in Captain Marvel, now would be the perfect time to introduce the world to Teddy, especially if Mark Ruffalo’s time with Marvel ends with Avengers: Endgame, leaving a Hulk-shaped hole in the MCU. America Chavez: As a member of both the Young Avengers and the all-female Avengers team, the A-Force, America Chavez (Miss America) has become a staple of modern comics. With her ability to travel through dimensions, super strength, and sassy attitude, America could become a fan favourite representing both the Latinx and LGBTQ+ communities. With Doctor Strange and Ant-Man already introducing us to the idea of different dimensions in their respective solo films, America could lead the Young Avengers on a dimension hopping adventure that would open the MCU to new worlds. With both Gina Rodriguez and Stephanie Beatriz expressing interest in playing this heroine and Young Avengers and A-Force films both apparently in the works at Marvel, it is only a matter of time before Miss America becomes a household name. Moondragon: With the current Guardians of the Galaxy roster being shaken up after Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, it might be time to add some new blood to the line up and there is no better option than the telekinetic and telepathic Heather Douglas, more commonly known as Moondragon. This bald badass has been a member of the Avengers, the Defenders and the Guardians of the Galaxy and is one of the most powerful heroes in Marvel comics. While her complicated and overly complex backstory involving resurrections and reincarnations might need to be updated and simplified, Moondragon could be an exciting addition to the cosmic side of the MCU. Drax himself, Dave Bautista, has already expressed interest in Moondragon joining the MCU. Angela: Last but not least is the long-lost sister of Thor and Queen of Hel, Angela. Another former member of the Guardians of the Galaxy in the comics, Angela has gone toe to toe with monsters and demons alike across the entire Marvel universe. A current Marvel series sees Angela as a member of the Asgardians of the Galaxy and a movie adapting this concept featuring Angela, Valkyrie, Lady Sif, Korg and Miek could be a smash hit for Marvel, especially if put in the hands of Thor: Ragnarok helmer, Taika Watiti. At the end of the day, whether it be a creative decision or out of fear or alienating audiences, Marvel still needs to do better by their queer fans and add some much needed representation to their roster. The MCU is doing a far better job of representing LGBTQ+ characters on the small screen with Jeri Hogarth in Jessica Jones, Karolina Dean and Nico Minoru in Runaways and Shades in Luke Cage. Phase 4 of the MCU is still shrouded with mystery so it’s likely that post Avengers: Endgame, we could see a Young Avengers film or at least some of the characters mentioned above being introduced. According to recent reports, the upcoming movie centred around the Eternals is looking for an openly gay actor to fill the main role and the movie could feature the first openly gay hero so progress is on the horizon and I personally cannot wait to have a hero who can represent me and my experiences appear on the big screen.
By Katie Goulding On Wednesday the 27th of February 2019, I travelled to Dublin with some classmates to attend the Dublin International Film Festival screening of the critically-acclaimed independent film Eighth Grade, which is written and directed by Bo Burnham. We also got the opportunity to experience a Q&A session with Bo afterwards, which was something that I was extremely looking forward to. Believe me when I say both Bo and his film did not disappoint. It has been a few weeks since the event, and I am still thinking about the film. It has given me a lot of inspiration as an aspiring filmmaker, but also as a film lover. It has given me hope that there are more stories like those told in Eighth Grade to come in film. Bo Burnham’s film Eighth Grade is the story of a girl named Kayla (played by the remarkable Elsie Fisher), an aspiring Youtuber who is transitioning from middle school to high school. The film tackles subjects surrounding youth today in a way that is painfully cringeworthy to watch, while also being immensely accurate, engaging, and relatable. Burnham’s effortless use of comedy and humour shine through the entire film, and the whole audience bursting into laughter for five minutes at a time. The entirety of the movie felt very raw and honest, as if Bo himself had dived into the mind of every thirteen-year-old girl and displayed their exact thoughts and feelings onto the screen. His ability to understand young people in today’s society was incredible and very refreshing to see. It was delightful that young people were recognised for having problems, anxieties and insecurities of their own. This film did not seem patronising in any way, unlike many teen-movies/coming of age stories we see in film today. I recall in an episode of “Teens React” on the Fine Bros “React” YouTube channel, where they had eighth graders react to the film, Burnham said that he didn’t want his film to look like it was made for eighth graders, because “often when it is made for eighth graders it like, to me, feels pandery or aspirational and I didn’t want to do that, I just wanted to capture what they were.” He goes on to discuss his issue with coming of age films, which was something that really stuck with me from this interview. He says, “that’s my problem with stuff about teens; it’s clearly made for teens which is not the same as making something truthful.” As I said, this is something that stuck with me and something that I was thinking about a lot while watching the film. It did not feel once as if he was trying to be patronising or talk down to young people, and he did not shy away from the truth: that young people are awkward and uncomfortable with themselves, and they are continuing to figure out what they want, what they like, and who they are. Burnham’s brilliance was evident throughout the film, even the smallest moments hit the nail on the head. In one scene Kayla goes to a pool party and has a panic attack in the bathroom, before going outside and joining everyone else in the water. What I liked, firstly, about this sequence is the fact that Burnham acknowledged that young people have anxiety and panic attacks, without playing it off as if they are “shy” or “nervous” like a lot of films do. He was honest with us and put it right in front of us, basically announcing to everyone: Teenagers get anxiety and it is okay, and normal. This was very refreshing to see on screen.
As the scene continues we see Kayla getting into the pool, where she is joined by a character called Gabe. He asks her if she wants to see him do a handstand in the pool and Kayla says yes. After a few failed attempts Gabe claims that there are too many people in the pool and the water is too rough. It is little details like these that made me feel as if Bo Burnham understood young people. That moment in the scene had the entire cinema cracking up with laughter and I think it is not only because of the comedic timing of the lines, but also because it was relatable. Everyone has tried to do something, failed, and then blamed it on something else. There are so many other moments like these in the film that make it so loveable and charismatic. The cinematography was also terrific in Eighth Grade. Something that I always pick up on in films is when text messages are superimposed onto a phone-screen. It is a major pet-peeve of mine, as it is so unrealistic and obvious that the character is not even typing anything or actually scrolling through their phone. In the Q&A session with Bo after the film, a member of the audience commented on this aspect of the cinematography, and how it differs in this film. We can see in Eighth Grade that Kayla is actually typing her own text messages and scrolling through Twitter and liking real Instagram pictures. The audience member asked Bo if this was something he considered a minor element of the filmmaking process or whether it was something he did intentionally. Bo laughed and said that it was completely intentional as there is nothing that irritates him more in films than superimposed text messages. All I wanted to do in that moment was jump in the air. It was something so small to me, but it really reinforced my admiration for Burnham and his filmmaking style. Overall, Eighth Grade was incredible, massively refreshing and utterly charming. Elsie Fisher’s performance was brilliant and she deserves more credit than she is getting for carrying the whole film on her shoulders. Bo Burnham’s ability to ace the smallest elements of filmmaking, as well as carefully executing the realities of youth in both his writing and directing made this film immensely enjoyable. If you have not seen Eighth Grade yet, I would recommend adding it to your list. 10/10 By Ronan Watters Last night, I decided to sit down and watch a film that I hadn’t seen in quite some time. That film was American Beauty (1999). It was my third time viewing it, but it was my first time to watching it since the allegations against Kevin Spacey were made back in October 2017. While I was able to get through the film and enjoy it as much as the previous times I had seen it, there was a creeping thought in the back of my head that wouldn’t stop persisting throughout the first half an hour of the film: “Kevin Spacey is in this.” Since he was first accused of sexual misconduct, more than 30 people have made allegations, including attempted rape, against Spacey. Apart from one incredibly bizarre video he uploaded in late 2018, where he seemed to defend himself against the allegations by using his Frank Underwood character from House of Cards, we haven’t heard much from him since actor Anthony Rapp first blew the whistle on his depraved behaviour. This led me to ask myself a question after I finished watching American Beauty: Is it possible to watch an entertainers work without the controversies of their personal lives influencing our opinions of the work they are in? The actions of Spacey and others like him should not be dismissed. They rightfully deserve the hate being thrown at them, as some people in the entertainment industry have gotten away with their sick behaviour for decades. Yet I found myself confused, because I was still able to watch American Beauty. While I thought about the allegations against Spacey for about half an hour into the film, I was still captivated by it. Bar one half of the storyline, which sees Spacey’s Lester Burnham sexually fantasise about his daughter’s underage friend Angela (which makes the real life allegations all the more uncomfortable), I was able to watch in awe of the countless other great performances in the film, from Annette Benning and Thora Birch as Burnham’s long suffering wife and daughter to Wes Bentley and Chris Cooper as troubled father and son. The cinematography, direction, and writing are to be admired as well. Conrad Hall shoots the film beautifully under the tight direction of Sam Mendes. The film went on to win five Academy Awards in 2000 and is still thought of as one of the best American movies ever made. But people I have spoken to have told me that they can’t watch it solely due to the presence of Spacey. I am not speaking for anyone bar myself, but I am torn about whether we should dismiss the work of controversial entertainers, as they are not the only people who have worked on their respective projects. Anyone with a small interest in films will know that hundreds upon hundreds of people can work on a film at a time, especially on big budget films. Should their work be all for nothing because of the actions of one of the stars? Some people use the argument that those who work on the films “don’t care” about all that because they still get paid. But that’s where they are wrong. Many people who work on these films do it because they love it. They want to get their film that they have tirelessly laboured over out there for people to see, and I’m sure there is nothing more frustrating than when their work is overshadowed by the actions of one individual. One of my friends told me that he didn’t know that Harvey Weinstein was a producer on Pulp Fiction, though his name is proudly displayed in the opening credits. His enjoyment of the film is ruined because the thought of Weinstein being involved in any way now sends shivers down his spine. That leads to another question: the severity of what they are being accused of. Weinstein has received the most attention as he was the first big name to be exposed by the media for his abusive behaviour. The “Weinstein Effect” has seen other powerful men be ousted as abusers. One man accused of allegations is Dustin Hoffman. Seven women have accused Hoffman of misconduct, while Weinstein has been accused by over 80 women. I am not dismissing what Hoffman allegedly did, but this example shows who the media targets more: We are still talking about people like Weinstein and Spacey, yet Hoffman has remained largely quiet, just as the media have remained quiet about him.
My thinking about Kevin Spacey also led me to think of others in Hollywood who have seen their behaviour exposed to the limelight. I began thinking about Roman Polanski, a man who was convicted in 1977 of drugging and raping a 13 year old girl, a man who fled to France when he learned the judge was going to lock him up, a man who won the Best Director Oscar in 2003 for his work on The Pianist (2002) and was visibly applauded by his peers in Hollywood. Since the rise of the Me Too movement, behaviour like this is not tolerated anymore, and rightfully so. But I myself am still able to watch Rosemary’s Baby (1968) and Chinatown (1974) without letting Polanski’s real life crime distract me from his films. At first, I thought I was being too cold and ignorant, but my personal feeling is that we shouldn’t let the hard work of so many people be thrown to the waste due to the actions of one single individual. It reminds me of the controversy surrounding Liam Neeson. Neeson’s new film Cold Pursuit (2019) was to have a red carpet event for the premiere, but was swiftly cancelled in the wake of accusations of racism against Neeson. I saw the film myself last week and enjoyed it thoroughly, and was able to immerse myself into the film without letting the real life controversy surrounding Neeson ruin my enjoyment of the film. Of course, Neeson is dealing with a whole different type of accusation compared to men like Spacey, Weinstein and Polanski. The controversy surrounding Neeson warrants an article of its own. As I have stated, this is only my opinion on the matter. Many people will disagree with me and that is fine. I am not defending these men, but I can immerse myself into a film without thinking of the actions of one individual. I can appreciate a film for what it is and I can respect the hard work of others without letting it be spoiled by the depraved, sick and selfish actions of some. The presence of entertainers embroiled in controversy can be distracting for a while, but I still find myself enjoying their work. By Lorna Breen Over the past few years, our cinemas have been dominated by superheroes. Whether it is an epic Avengers movie, a spin-off for a superhero you had never heard of before, or a DC film that gets ripped apart by critics, there seems to always be a superhero flick at the box office every few months. Personally, I have grown a little tired of these films. While I always look forward to seeing the big-name heroes team up for an epic like Avengers: Infinity War (2018), I cannot sustain my excitement for all the spin-off films as there are simply too many of them. When I heard that there was going to be another major Spider-Man film, this time an animated one, I really could not believe it. This character has had his origin story told twice, with 5 movies released before he officially joined the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Tom Holland’s take on the character had his own film, Spider-Man: Homecoming released in 2017 and has a sequel on the way. At this point, most people have grown tired of watching Spider-man’s beginnings and instead want to move on to more exciting and fresh stories. However, after seeing this film, I regret having my doubts. This film takes us into the “Spider-Verse,” where there are multiple universes. In these alternative universes, there are different versions of Spider-Man. It focuses on one universe where Brooklyn teenager Miles Morales, voiced by Shameik Moore, has his world turned upside down when he takes on the role of Spider-Man and learns about these different dimensions. The movie is self-aware, and repeatedly has the different versions of the hero introduce themselves, mentioning that they were bitten by a radioactive spider at the beginning of each of their quick origin stories. It is as if they are poking fun at the amount of times we as an audience have seen Peter Parker’s origin story played out in front of us. The lovable main character Miles struggles with his new powers and does not feel ready to take on the role as Spider-Man. His unwilling mentor from another dimension, Peter B. Parker helps him adjust to his new life. It was so intriguing to see Peter Parker, not as a high schooler but instead as middle-aged, slightly overweight and pairing sweatpants with his iconic costume. While the “reluctant mentor” is something we see a lot in film, it works perfectly here as Miles tries to follow his advice and understand that “with great power comes great responsibility." Then we have characters like Spider-Man Noir, a version of Peter Parker from the 1930s, Spider-Hamm who used to be a spider but was bitten by a radioactive pig and Peni, a girl from an anime-like universe who controls a powerful suit with a radioactive spider telepathically. In addition to these heroes, we see a version of Gwen Stacy take on the role of Spider-Woman. While this might seem like an overload of Spider-Men, these characters work perfectly together, each bringing something unique to the table and plenty of laughs. I personally found the humour in this film to be much better than the typical humour found in a Marvel film. The snarky one-liners in a typical Marvel film tend to fall flat at times and are often misplaced, deflating a lot of serious moments. However, in this case, I have never experienced an audience so amused by a Marvel film before. The jokes land perfectly one after the other, yet they know when to cut the humour too.
Not only is the humour good, but so is the action. Everyone who leaves the cinema after seeing this film says the same thing and it really is true: it is a comic book brought to life. It is full of bright colours, mimicking the street art that Miles spray paints throughout the movie. A scene which I think best showcases the stunning animation is the “Leap of Faith” scene. Miles has finally built up the courage to truly become a hero and is about to take a leap of faith, something his mentor told him about. This scene is gorgeous as we watch the protagonist run along the rooftops of New York at night and swing over the traffic below him as he realises who he is – Spider-Man. This scene solidified this movie as my favourite film of the year as it is such a breath of fresh air. It leaves you craving more films like this: films that are not afraid to take their own leaps of faith and try something different. It leaves you with the song “Sunflower” stuck in your head, too. Rating: 9/10 |
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