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#oh also very much a silly and very simplified way of describing their dynamic for humor's sake i hope that's clear lol
jocasta-nightstrider · 3 months
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Still so sad that Merle Highchurch's canonically nonbinary plant-person partner who can't fucking stand him but is still infatuated with him and also they share a psychic unbreakable bond tying them together- as far as we know forever- all because the two's bosses thought it'd be funny to set them up together isn't like. A well known thing in the fandom </3 they're so funny </3 my psionic warriors think about Kuo Adventurezone for me please and thank you
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ot3 · 3 years
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What's the core appeal of orv? I know the premise but why does it make you so hyped up?
OH BOY OH BOY....... i will try to be as concise as possible here but i could write without exaggeration thousands of words about why orv is good. But I guess here's the big stuff.
- Its funny, for starters. it is extremely funny, which is very high up on my media priority list. in orv, there will be incredibly grim things that make you laugh, and incredibly cringe and silly anime bullshit that will hurt you as heavily as any other media you’ve seen. 
- it executes it’s thematic arcs with pinpoint precision the likes of which i’ve hardly ever seen anything else manage to do. regardless of whether or not the themes themselves are the sort of themes you go bonkers for in media, it’s always just delightful to see something perfectly stick it’s landing in terms of the big concepts its trying to grapple with, and orv does
- it’s got fun and fascinating worldbuilding mechanics. the core concept being ‘reality now operates on the rules of a shitty novel’ means that the worldbuilding doesn’t have to function logically, it functions thematically. it’s explicitly stated in orv canon that some of the internal rules governing this new reality are objectively really stupid and illogical, but they just have to roll with it because that’s what was in the book, and i think it’s a really enjoyable way to do it. This may at first sound like a copout, where the writer is trying to excuse their own bad worldbuilding, but it isn’t. The world building is actually incredibly deeply thought out, but it doesn’t exist for the sake of rational function, it exists for the sake of, once again, furthering orv’s thematic arcs. the rules by which this universe operate do a magnificent job of strengthening the core concepts the authors are exploring. 
- it deals with morality in a really wonderful and nuanced way. there are almost no characters in orv’s extremely large cast of characters who are just explicitly morally condemnable, and almost every conflict allows you to understand exactly why the antagonists believe they’re in the right by opposing the actions of our protagonists. the central conflicts are never pure right and pure wrong; they’re always about contrasting goals, conflicting worldviews, and different priorities between ends and means. this makes the conflicts all feel so much more dynamic and engaging than those where the only stakes are physical harm. 
- the characters interpersonal relationships are some of the most interesting ive ever seen. orv is very slow burn and it takes a long time for a lot of these to come out of the woodwork, by design, but by god once they do they fucking hit. similar to the plot conflicts, the interpersonal conflicts also almost never occur where there’s one side clearly in the wrong. the characters are almost all genuinely attempting to do their best by each other, and the tension comes from the ways in which human communication is fundamentally imperfect and part of our feelings and intentions get lost in translation. it’s very heartwrenching and heartwarming to see unfold, in equal measure. 
- following from that, it’s a narrative that really meaningfully prioritizes non-romantic relationships over romantic ones as the central focus. obviously there’s shipbait and the ot3 is real and good and my friend but if you’re looking for deep complex platonic, (found or otherwise) familial, and antagonistic relationships that never get ruined with forced romantic arcs, we got em baby!
- the pacing is unlike anything i’ve ever seen before. from a purely technical standpoint, it is genuinely a fascinating case study in how to execute a narrative that is almost constantly escalating without exception. there is very little downtime or breathing room in orv, which is insane for something that clocks in at over a million words, and somehow, it still works. i’ve never felt more like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water than i did when i was reading orv and i can’t believe they pulled it off. it’s so interesting to read something like that.
- it is a tragedy without resorting to cynicism and a very adult narrative that’s really steeped in childlike wonder. i’m a big fan of cartoons made for children cartoons made for children are my favorite things to watch because i like media that is uplifting and encouraging. but of course children’s media will always be simplified and not very relatable to an adult. orv is very much a serious and heavy adult narrative, and a deeply tragic one at that, but this is never tragedy for tragedy’s sake. it’s a very compassionate piece of media over all, that holds a lot of reverence and sympathy for the ‘naive’ optimism of children that gets stripped down over time. if you, like me, feel more like a grown up child than an adult someday, i think it’ll hit for you. 
- if you are a person who has ever gotten deeply involved in media to ignore bad things happening in the real world, which i know you are because you are reading my tumblr blog, then there is going to be a lot about orv which resonates for you. a lot of metanarrative has attempted to comment on the voyeuristic nature of media obsession and storytelling, but a lot of it does so in a bizarre way that almost seems to shame the audience for having the audacity to... enjoy the product the creators have produced for them. orv is what i can only describe as a love-letter to its own audience, and it’s really a manifesto about how engagement with media can foster genuine human intimacy, even if initially it’s something you’re using as a crutch to replace that intimacy. the closest thing to orv’s metanarrative i can think of would be undertale. if undertale made you Feel some Things, orv is gonna make you Feel some Things as well. 
- it is extremely cathartic and meaningful. i am not exaggerating at all when i say that reading it gave me the closest thing i have ever felt to any sort of spiritual breakthrough. it helped unfuck my head a ton during some very grim times and i think the perspective it offers on the value of human life is a really really good one
- its really funny i promise
- its cringe in a way that’s hype
- please read orv please not even for me do it for yourself i want you to experience what i experienced for YOUR sake not mine
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mymelancholiesblues · 5 years
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My extensive analysis in why RE4 is the top-tier Aeon game
This will be a long ride (seriously though, this have around 9.453 words), so grab a cup of tea (or coffee, depending on your personal preference, of course), sit comfortably and read through this peacefully because Resident Evil 4 is my favourite game and I plan to finally thoroughly explain why. And, for that, first, I intend to contextualize every single prior point with the proper attention they need.
As we’re already sick to death of knowing, Leon and Ada are introduced on this franchise in Resident Evil 2. This is a game originally from 1998, the very end of the 90s, and despite clearly possessing superior quality if compared to the script of the previous game and first instalment in the franchise, it’s still unquestionably a game of its time, and, particularly, of its genre.
We’re talking about the B science fiction and horror hybrid genre: zombies. This is the sort of horror that is frequently campier than the rest since – and let’s all agree over this – zombies per se are not that terrifying. It’s actually their effect on mankind, on human reaction and on how human beings will deal with the gore and all the fairly specific situations this type of horror puts them in that really terrifies us – it’s different from ghosts or demons, for instance. That’s why, inevitably, every exercise of fiction on this genre will ultimately focus on conflicts between non-infected human beings, their greed, how they’re capable of displaying their most monstrous side in these circumstances, and so forth. You can have a read on the “zombie culture” subject and its origins here.
Moreover, Resident Evil is a Japanese game, which is significant, since we should know that cultural repertoire can greatly modify the way storytelling explicits itself, the way it unfolds and develops towards its conclusion, and especially which messages it chooses to prioritize and how those messages are decided to be delivered to the audience. Therefore, even though Resident Evil has fallen upon the clichès its genre generally falls onto (the main plot conflict focus now is much more on how bioterrorism is one of the worst products of the capitalist regime and the endless greed of imperialist countries), the narrative dramatic throughline of the franchise continues to be that of ending in a hopeful, optimistic note.
Back to RE2 OG being a product of its time, however, and characters like Leon, Claire, Ada and Sherry being introduced there: on characterization terms, while these early franchise games weren’t necessarily weak and incompetent in presenting those characters, they were definitely quite limited on how they could do so.
Furthermore, on the account of a not yet established videogames voice-acting trade, and primarily on the rough Japanese-to-English translation efforts that weren’t as easy and accessible as they are today, nor was the “entry” of Japanese entertainment production into the North-American market a normalized matter as globalization wasn’t such a stable and clear concept then as it is today, many typical Japanese storytelling devices, such as certain scenes originally carrying a heavy significance to them and meanings that we couldn’t even presume if we weren’t already part of their culture or had some degree of introduction to it, – eg, a man promising to protect a woman plot-situation: in Japanese storytelling, this is a trope that has more clear romantic undertones than it would have in the West (check here and here), just like childhood friendships carry different implications for their cultural baggage (it’s a typical romantic trope for them; take a look here and here) – were lost in translation and could easily come off as “corny” to the western public if the translator (and the voice actor) wasn’t careful in conveying the originally intended text and subtext messages. And they rarely were.
Leon wasn’t a complex or even a “complete” character back then as he is today. At the time of his introduction, in RE2 OG, he was a more straight play of The Paragon trope. Are you familiar with those more simplified and basic characterizations of, say, Captain America and Superman? Leon was like that! In fact, Leon was the first attempt of an entirely Japanese crew in making a North-American blond police officer, an idealist and overall nice guy that didn’t have behavioural issues like Chris did. So, Leon was an “upright” and “altruistic” guy. That’s what his character comes down to in his introduction. Those two words.
On the other end, we had Claire, who was an “independent” and “brave” young woman (let’s keep those describing terms in mind because they are important!). In her scenario, we would have a journey companion, Sherry, and in Leon’s, it would be Ada.
It’s really important to point out here that when they were developing these characters, coming up with their design and everything, the staff tried to make Ada’s colour palette contrast and complement Leon’s one, and Sherry’s was also thought out to do the same to Claire’s. So much so that we can see that in contrast to Claire’s fuchsia/magenta and black, we have Sherry’s cobalt blue and white. And to Ada’s deep red we have Leon’s navy blue (check this).
Now, about those “describing terms” I mentioned earlier. Similarly to the colour palettes case, staff’s primary purpose while characterizing the two extra journey characters was so that they would offer some sort of “disfigurement” of the basic traits that directed the main characters. Claire is brave and independent even though she is barely nineteen years old and grew up as an orphan, thanks mainly to her older brother’s affection and dedication, whom she actually happens to be looking for in this game. Sherry, however, has to survive independently in Raccoon because she has been neglected by her remarkably still alive scientist parents and has to be brave because she always had to fend off for herself. It’s just like Claire, but upside down.
Leon, on the other hand, upright and altruistic, meets Ada, who seems to have shady means to achieve her goals, and shows a skeptical, cynical demeanor on how she regards others. She’s Leon’s upside down as well.
In the original script, there’s a lot of “mamoru” being used – from Claire to Sherry, who later becomes a maternal figure to the girl (and forms a solid bond with her), and from Leon to Ada (and here is where we should remember that the “promise to protect” trope can oftentimes have romantic connotations in Japanese culture if it’s used in a given context and combination of circumstances).
As I’ve already said, the original game, a product of its time, relied more on “soap drama” writing than on a more organic text development, since it needed to be concise, delivering the message without losing its dramatic appeal to the plot. Thus, everything escalates too fast – the in-game time is short and the script needs to be on par with its pace.
We get to know the characters we have to know, the text then assumes we’re sufficiently familiar with the basic paradigms associated with fiction and storytelling so we should unconsciously recognize what certain parts will mean without needing anyone to babysit us through it. It’s clear, then, that the independent and brave young woman will be accompanied by the neglected and frightened little girl and they’ll form an adoptive mother-and-daughter bond, just like it’s obvious that the upright and altruistic guy will be glued by the shady and cynical woman’s side and they’ll team up and eventually fall in love.
However, the translation process was unpolished, as I said, so the dialogue lines, especially, came off a bit silly and occasionally somewhat unnatural to the audience – quite cheesy indeed. Nonetheless, as I also stated previously, all of those dialogue lines made sense within their own context since the game’s pacing isn’t bad and the events that transpire within it accompany said rhythm, are dictated by it. Within the plot, Leon and Ada, in addition to being attracted to each other, just spent the last almost 4 to 7 hours together, surviving together, helping each other, so of course they’ll fall in love. Just as it’s expected that Claire will feel responsible for Sherry’s life and Sherry will start seeing her as an adoptive mother figure. This little girl was neglected by her parents! And Claire saved her!
We can see those two dynamics as mirrored reflections (in which those two pairs of mirrors – Leon and Ada, Claire and Sherry – function extremely well as they contrast and complement each other), but also as a journey in which the sidekick is the “shadow” (I’d like to thank @madamoftime​ for her incredible analysis on this subject and for providing me with the sources to quote on this topic: here and here) of the protagonist. Ada is Leon’s shadow because he needs to “kill the boy and let the man be born” (as Maester Aemon advised Jon in ASoIaF — A Dance with Dragons, Chapter 7, Jon II) for this new world he’ll be entering after surviving Raccoon. He needs to be a little more like Ada.
But Ada also needs to be a bit more like Leon, so he’s her mirrored reflection / shadow as well. She needs to start believing in mankind a little more again if she wants to continue in this franchise narrative and make individual progress within it.
Oh, and mirrors are quite important imagery in Japanese folklore (check here), its mythology, etc. RE2 OG does a stupendous job in making use of that.
“The mirror hides nothing. It shines without a selfish mind. Everything good and bad, right and wrong is reflected without fail.”
We have a game story with two sets of characters that manage to tick all the boxes of what should be a complete and comprehensive narrative for them. Complete and that provides closure in itself. We didn’t need a sequel to presume that Leon and Ada would probably meet again, since following Ada’s apparent “death”, the audience knows that she’s helping him against the final boss and in a fashion that he’s also led to suspect it. Claire and Sherry too: we know they’ll take care of each other.
Even so, RE: CV serves to settle Claire’s saga and tie up her journey’s loose ends. In it, she finds her disappeared brother. (And this is precisely why I have my criticisms on the fandom’s constant vehemence in always demanding that she should come back for another cameo: Claire is one of the few characters that had the privilege of having her story thoroughly resolved.)
But then, Leon remained a pending mystery: what happened to him? Had he ever got the chance to confirm his (and ours) suspicions on Ada’s status? Plus: how did it happen? Have they ever met again?
you’ve haunted me all my life through endless days and countless nights there was a storm when I was just a kid stripped the last coat of innocence   you’ve haunted me all my life you’re always out of reach when I’m in pursuit long-winded then suddenly mute and there’s a flaw in my heart’s design for I keep trying to make you mine
(You’ve Haunted Me All My Life – Death Cab For Cutie)
RE4 comes out under this excellent reason: answering those questions. In addition to providing a new chapter to this famous and profitable franchise, it would also serve to solve Leon’s pending matters, something that Claire, his companion protagonist in the game that he was introduced on, got, but he didn’t. And look: this unresolved conflict is precisely what drives RE4’s dramatic throughline – so much so that if we think about the main saga plot to which these two games should be supposedly subordinate to, both RE:CV and RE4 seem a little… isolated? Because they are journey conclusions for these two specific characters.
Anyway, Leon is now a government agent (a career unkindly imposed onto him by the actual government, by the way, who wouldn’t just accept that the man simply moved on with his life while possessing the knowledge to what really happened in Raccoon) on a rescue mission six years after surviving Raccoon City’s incident. He’s now more cynical and is taking advantage of somewhat questionable means: being a secret agent for a corrupt government so he can achieve his own goals: put an end to bioterrorism and companies like Umbrella. He’s a little more like Ada.
And from the beginning of RE4 all plot aspects are set in a way that build our expectations over Leon and Ada’s reunion: the church bell that mysteriously rings in a suitable timing and saves Leon’s life at the very beginning of the game. The silhouette in red that appears outside the window and fires twice against the guy who is stomping his chest and prompts Leon’s to comment on how familiar the stranger figure felt (“Woman in red… Somehow so familiar.”). Everything, EVERYTHING that happens in RE4 is a carefully thought slow-burn set-up for us to wait and expect for their encounter.
Let’s not forget that the Anonymous Letter that he finds after passing out in that hut after the fight against Del Lago it’s hers (in the Japanese script, the personal pronouns are feminine, which prevents it to be a note written by Luis; source). In Project Umbrella’s translation of said file, we notice that she laments the fact that Leon is infected beyond her current capability to help him. Oh, and there’s also Salazar stating that he needs to deal with two rats before properly worrying about Leon, and Leon then wondering who’s the other intruder besides himself and Luis – which serves to further increase the audience’s expectations.
see her come down through the clouds I feel like a fool I ain’t got nothing left to give nothing to lose   so come on love draw your swords shoot me to the ground you are mine I am yours let’s not fuck around
(Draw Your Swords – Angus & Julia Stone)
When they do finally meet again (after we, the audience, already suspect that for at least three different situations Ada’s been watching and helping him) is this tension-charged scene. The scene backdrop, thoughtfully designed, is a monarchy style couple’s bedroom; as part of its decoration, there’s a painting, a gigantic and impossible-not-to-see one, that turns out to be Sandro Botticelli’s Primavera (check here); and even the mysterious woman’s dress, evoking a Chinese red qipao, has butterflies prints (check here). This is essentially the perfect setting fans have unconsciously hoped for: we’re internally screaming “finally! they’re going to solve their U.S.T. and consummate their feelings!” After all, it’s a couple’s bedroom decorated with a purposefully noticeable painting (the only one large enough to be undoubtedly identifiable in a cutscene) which its symbolism and analogies are famously related to love and sex, and even the woman’s dress carries references to a Chinese romantic allegory that, curiously enough, strongly fits with them.
Ada enters the scene laying her gun barrel against Leon’s back – close, too close, in a staggeringly explicit intimacy imagery, one that we’d normally expect from a 007 movie, for instance –, and the subsequent dialogue follows the same tone: with her ordering him to surrender in a voice of velvet (“Put your hands where I can see them.”) and him throwing back a provoking bluff – also full of sexual innuendo – that serves only to advance their competition for dominance (“Sorry, but following a lady’s lead just isn’t my style.”). Oh Leon, you’re so full of shit and you’re well aware of it, as well as Ada is (“Put them up now.”). For them, this is all foreplay. (And that’s why Leon’s first response in this scene doesn’t bother me. I find it to be consistent with his characterization, he understands what’s going on in this situation and decides to join in the game.)
After their own little – and slightly anticipated – dance, and Leon’s little tip (“Bit of advice – try using knives next time. Works better for close encounters.”) – that uncoincidentally will come in hand later on in this game in another scene charged with this same unresolved sexual tension, and in which our expectations get likewise subverted –, Ada raises the curtains, folds her cards (“Leon. Long time, no see.”).
We all hold our breaths.
But Leon… Well, Leon is resentful, bitter, angry.
Naturally, since, for 1) although he, like us, certainly had a hunch for the identity of whoever put a gun on his back, he couldn’t be quite sure yet, and 2) this is the woman he has spent the past 6 years obsessing about to which end she came off to (later, a spin-off in the franchise will confirm his obsession for us, but nevertheless, one of Leon’s next lines in-game is already enough for us to deduce it), only to find out that the latest news pointing at her happened to be related “just” to the most infamous figure in the recent history of bioterrorism.
Ah, and also he spent the past 6 years dealing with the guilt and trauma of she possibly being dead, which he certainly considered to be his personal failure in preventing. So, there’s that. 
Therefore, Leon ruins the atmosphere – and all of our previous expectations together with it – and confronts her (“Ada… So it is true.”) Feeling hurt, betrayed, pissed off. But resigned too. Even when she pretends she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, clearly dismissive of how long it has been since their last exchange (“True? About what?”), his tone is huffy, sullen, when he states to her (doesn’t question, rather, chooses to assert) that it’s true, she’s affiliated with Wesker (“You, working with Wesker.”) And how does he know that? Did something in his investigations also lead him to presume that she’d probably appear in Spain to get something for Wesker? Then we weren’t the only ones hoping for this reunion, holding our breaths for it? See, we don’t even need a spin-off game to assume that yes, he’s been indeed obsessing about her for the past 6 years. 
When Leon throws this accusation, it comes from a sore spot, a particular personal ache, almost as if this Wesker issue was a betrayal aimed specifically against him. If we didn’t know any better, this scene would almost feel like it’s a couple washing their dirty laundry over the fact that of them is having an extra-marital affair. 
Ada drops her sly, disingenuous facade (“I see you’ve been doing your homework.”) – it looks like he learned the hard way that he should be a little more like her instead of simply diving in blind after all. 
Then, shrinking a bit, in a lower tone, he demands a reason (“Why, Ada?”), and she tosses it back since this is a question that can have a myriad of answers (“What’s it to you?”) to which he finally asks what he wants to know with indisputable clarity (“Why are you here? Why’d you show up like this?”), and something in his tone, the non-verbal stress in his words, gives us the impression of emphasis on “here” and “like this”, almost as if what he really wants to say is “Why not before (way earlier)? Under different circumstances (as a friend, as he wanted her to be)?” After a wry chuckle, it’s her turn to break with our expectations, – since Leon’s question steers the mood of the scene back to one of impending emotional and physical resolution – evading the emotional escalation with a dramatic stunt, but not without promising him that they’ll meet again. 
By the way, resorting to a ruse to get out of there, having thrown her timer flash bomb glasses so she could have a good pretext to withdraw without major impediments – it’s also a writing device to subvert the audience’s expectations here, since they’re naturally placed upon betting that if Ada tries to leave in a conventional, non-theatrical and unconvincing style, Leon is definitely going to make her stay, even if he has to beg her for it.
the angel came to Jacob the room began to glow Jacob asked the angel are you friend or are you foe?   the angel never answered but smote him on the thigh they wrestled through the darkness ‘til morning filled the sky   this thing between us has wings, it has teeth it has got horns and feathers and sinews beneath angel or demon to the truth I am bound and so this thing between us must be wrestled down
(Jacob and the Angel – Suzanne Vega)
We play RE4’s main campaign entirely in Leon’s shoes. It’s only after finishing it and unlocking the extra content that we’ll have access to how Ada reacted after their re-encounter: in a mix of anxiety and concern as Wesker now suspects that she went to meet with Leon and, because of it, is ordering her to kill him so there won’t be any disruptions in her mission (“And that US government lapdog… Leon… if you do happen to encounter him, put him out of commission. We can’t let him interfere with our plans.”). She tries from the get-go to bargain with Wesker that Leon doesn’t have a clue to what’s really happening, claiming that he’s there solely to save Ashley so he shouldn’t disturb, etc. (“He has no idea what’s going on. He’s nothing we need to worry about.”), but well, Wesker isn’t exactly inclined to be convinced (“He’s a survivor of Raccoon City. We can do without the extra distraction. Take him out.”).
So we see her apprehensively sighing his name after Wesker finalizes contact. We even have a brief scene where she observes Leon from afar using a machine-gun to contain another horde of Ganados, whispering to herself an apology to him and explaining why she can’t be helping him (“Leon… I’m sorry, but I can’t be seen with you..”) and if you, the player, try to disregard this by nevertheless attempting to run to where Leon is, the game will stop you with the phrase “If Leon sees me now, I would have to finish him off.”. The game enforces you to respect her decision: she won’t follow Wesker’s orders. 
Actually, even before she re-encountered Leon, from the very BEGINNING of her campaign when she discovers that he’s in this place as well (and murmurs his name when she sees and recognises him), she already realises that she can’t be seen with him or there’ll be trouble. So, when she nevertheless reveals herself to him, what she’s really doing is going against her best judgment and putting them both in danger because she genuinely wants to see him and let him know that she’s there too.
Additionally, this is the most probable reason for her not going after him in the past 6 years. Besides obviously wishing him to have emotional distance to move forward while she herself tried to do it, there was the possibility that she could put him in danger if she went after him. 
Mere seconds after Saddler kills Luis, Wesker comes in contact with her and spares no time in querying if she already had the opportunity to execute Leon (“Have you had a chance to eliminate Leon?”). We know that she did despite her dismissive reply (“Not yet”). She saw him quite a few times after their reunion at the castle. Plus, she knows that he’s right there in the exact same place that she’s now – the castle’s concourse level –, with dead Luis in his arms. She’s well aware of the fact that she could exploit Leon’s shock and vulnerable moment over Luis death to easily kill him undisturbed. 
Wesker realizes this is going to be an arm wrestle with her, so, instead, he proposes that she starts “taking advantage of Leon’s fortuitousness” (“If that’s the case, then maybe we can capitalize on his little lucky streak and take advantage of the distraction he’s causing for Saddler and his followers to retrieve the sample.”). But even this recommended scheme visibly disturbs Ada, as we can notice from her reaction just afterwards. 
Ada, of course, doesn’t cease to aid Leon and advice him in order to make his odyssey easier (even if she can’t accompany him as she did in Raccoon), nor does she stop worrying about the advancing of the Las Plagas infection stage on his body, leaving him a letter (again) over that topic, one signed with an affectionate lipstick mark (source).
The next time they see each other in-game is when, once again, Ada chooses to disregard her own best judgment and assessment of the situation by offering him a boat-ride to the island. A scene also packed with sexual tension, in which even a pun brimming with innuendo is allowed (“Need a ride, handsome?”), but still a much lighter in tone than their first shared one. In this one, Leon is finally close to her physically and, as a result of that, spends the whole trip fidgeting where he’s sitting, blatantly staring at her – to which she furtively glances back and sneakily smiles at him. 
All of it only for our expectations to be shattered a second time: she abruptly halts their short little cruise, given that they already arrived at their set destiny – and the fact that she really needs to go, otherwise Wesker will kill them both –, but not without first flashing her entire thigh to him (a privileged view he doesn’t refuse to savour) and nearly shoving her butt all over his face, as to show us and him that “look, I’m definitely interested, but this isn’t the right place nor the right time”. 
After Leon manages to briefly get Ashley back for the first time on the island, we see a small paper plane flying in through the window. Another note sent by Ada, lovingly identified again, offering tips for Leon’s itinerary to escape (source). 
Krauser’s first question when we see him talking to Ada for the first time is on Leon’s status (“What’s the news on our friend Leon?”), to which Ada’s answer (“He’s not making it easy.”) it’s a blatant and near hilarious lie to the audience. Yeah, it mustn’t be easy being forced to deal with that sort of demand: to kill the guy you love more than your own sense of self-preservation and safety. 
Everything that follows the lift she gave Leon and her exchange with Krauser is to showcase her desperation and the lengths she’s willing to go to keep Leon alive, since Wesker, whom just now seemed possibly satisfied with Leon’s participation in the most recent set of events (“Quite a jolly mess he’s made, that Leon. But all for the better. Saddler’s people have fallen into a panic. Their destruction is only a matter of time now!”) and in spite of her reiterated effort to try to convince him that after Leon rescues Ashley he wouldn’t pose any more threats to the ex-S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team captain’s plans (“Once he gets Ashley back, his job will be finished. He’ll no longer be a factor.”), sent in another agent to assassinate him (“No, I’m leaving Leon to Krauser.”). 
The pronouncement is enough to unsettle Ada and suspend her walk. The urgency to save Leon from Krauser is so high that we see her running after Wesker’s briefing – his order was for her to rush to retrieve the sample (“Hurry up and retrieve the sample.”), but Ada’ hurry is for Leon’s life (“Maybe you’ve forgotten, Wesker… I don’t always play by your rules.”). 
She succeeds in saving him from Krauser, and Leon’s reaction, naturally, is to shout her name, while Krauser is unsurprised by the betrayal (“Well, if it isn’t the bitch in the red dress!”). Ada unceremoniously gives away which side she on in this contest (“Looks like we have the upper hand here.”), and I really enjoy how the scene in which she lowers her gun after Leon dares her to shoot him in RE2R also seems like a visual echo to this one scene in RE4, since Ada chooses him again here – even if that will irreversibly mean trouble for her much sooner than she was prepared for. 
And then, Leon, expressing the enthusiasm of someone who’s already prepared for a hard pass, appeals in a frustrated tone for a resume on their earlier and systematically unfinished conversation – so that they can, at last, have the pending resolution they’re in need (“Maybe it’s about time you told me the reason why you’re here?”), and she rebuffs exactly as he expected her to (“Maybe some other time…”) before leaving him for his own solitary path once again; oh, and this nice detail of having Ada always promising to Leon something for “the next time”, though, is definitely something worth pointing out every time it occurs. By the second time Leon is confronted by Krauser, we have the latter vocalizing what anyone could and would reasonably deduce regarding Leon’s relationship with Ada (“So, you two are all hooked up now, is that it?”). 
Btw, it’s about time that I point out that I prefer the original Japanese version of Ada’s Report #4 (you can access Project Umbrella’s translation here), since its discourse feels more in character for Ada: for example, it’s relevant to emphasize how in this version she pretty much chooses to describe Leon repeating what Wesker suggested about his role in all that’s been happening, almost as if she were taking advantage of the things Wesker said so she can justify in her own assignment reports the help she continuously gives Leon throughout her mission in Spain and why it’s so important for her that he stays alive. What better way of combining business with personal contentment, huh? 
But when we see her interacting with Wesker as he reckons precisely those things she allegedly “thinks” of Leon (his resilience, his luck, the opportunity to take advantage of his protagonism in the ongoing events on the Island and so forth), her following reactions are always of explicitly and adamant indisposition. Which makes me firmly believe that no, Ada never intended to use Leon for anything there in Spain. 
Moreover, if we, as the audience, have paid attention to the story so far, we should know that actually, she’s been only delaying her goals thanks to Leon’s direct and indirect interferences. After all, it’s because of him that Luis takes a detour: in order to deliver the pills that would slow down the effects of Las Plagas on his body; something that ultimately leads Luis to die by Saddler’s hands, once again preventing Ada from putting her hands on the sample and concluding her mission. 
It is Ada who kills Krauser, but that was yet to happen when she reports it as a fact to Wesker (“Krauser is dead.”). There’s a hint of satisfaction and triumph in her voice, even though the guy isn’t dead yet. Wesker goes on to suggest that he’s hoping for Leon to die in the dispute against Saddler, then (“Really… Hmmmmm… Leon doesn’t die easily. That’s fine, we can use him to clean up Saddler for us. We’ll let them fight it out. Neither one of them will manage to come out unharmed.”), and everything in Ada’s body-language and facial expressions indicates her discomfort and impatience with this insistence on this particular subject – Leon’s demise (“Easier said than done.”). 
If she really was using Leon all the time, there wouldn’t be a reason for her to be so clearly annoyed at Wesker’s line of thinking (“Either way, it’s your job to clean up what’s left of them when the fight is over. Don’t forget who is running the show. Whatever happens, we can’t let either of them live to see tomorrow. Our goal is to retrieve the sample. Take out anything that might interfere with our plans.”), to the point that Wesker doesn’t even wait for her response before terminating their conversation. Ada is not complying in this specific topic and this infuriates him; she’ll, actually, – as we know – even go out of her way to intervene in Wesker’s last ideal scenario on this matter: Saddler killing Leon. 
The next scene where we see them together is the one where Leon is stumbling and squirming for some reason that Ada surely has a pretty good guess on which is it, but is hoping to be mistaken (“Leon, you okay?”), while he, on his end, also insists on ignoring what’s truly going on, guaranteeing that of course, everything’s just fine. 
Here we have another subtextual echo to RE2 OG that RE2R also uses to some extent in honour of those who’ve been accompanying the franchise for so long: the calm before the storm – the oddly unagitated moment before we see them saying goodbye and parting ways again –, even if this calm is, in fact, nothing but an illusion they’re briefly sharing. The audience gets anxious without knowing how to pinpoint what’s causing it. 
When Leon comes closer, although everything seems so strange, so out of place, we can see Ada reacting as if anticipating (and welcoming) a kiss. She lowers her guard almost completely, raises her hand gently towards his face and tilts her head slightly to the opposite direction so she can lean onto the upcoming contact. But he’s being controlled by the parasite in his body. For a quick millisecond, she thought she could touch him, kiss him, have that closeness once again – a resolution for emotional and sexual tension in sight. Perhaps they’d even help each other on their path through the island from that point on? 
When she kisses him in RE2R more so he’ll stop arguing and pointing out holes in her just newly-improvised plan than anything else, we have Leon reacting in a kind of dazed and stuporous state – going stiff and not entirely knowing what exactly he should do, looking not only surprised and confused but also hesitant, uneasy. Still, we can notice him adjusting his own weight so he can angle his head better and enjoy the kiss. It’s subtle, but it’s there (take a look). If we think about this in comparison, seeing Ada’s reaction to his approximation while being controlled in RE4 leaves a more bittersweet taste – realizing how much these two truly long for each other’s touch, but how the circumstances only seem to work against them when providing the opportunity to it in a distorted fashion (and observe how much care the producers placed into RE2R so it would be a consistent experience juxtaposed with RE4, RE6 and the rest of the franchise). 
But, well… Mind-controlled Leon almost strangles her and she has to follow that advice he gave her the first time we, the audience, expected them to address the elephant in the room in this game (their much-needed resolution): his tip to preferring knives in such close encounters. Despite the attack not being intentionally his fault and the fact that he just got kicked in the balls for it, Leon immediately asks her to forgive him (“Sorry, Ada…”), and Ada – with her throat still hurting and her voice hoarse – while seeing him swallowing all those pills, immediately urges him so they get rid of the virus in his body. Although she alerted him about the low chances of surviving the surgical intervention that’s needed to remove Las Plagas in a letter she sent prior to this unfortunately awkward meeting, she presses that they both take action (“We have to get that parasite out of your body!”), emphasizing the “we”. Oh, Ada. It’s not like she’ll just accept that his fate is dying a victim of this without trying to fight against it, right? 
Leon’s response, of course, is to prioritize someone else’s well-being and his own mission in helping them (“Yeah… But before that I gotta save Ashley!”) – he’ll do it again for Helena in RE6 under analogous circumstances: following Ada (his recurring element of personal need) vs his sense of duty (everything he believes and stands for) –, and this serves as a reminder to Ada about her own (“Fine… let’s split up…”). For a moment, perhaps, she thought it would be like that night in Raccoon, the two together against anything that threatens their way. As she goes ahead of him and walks out the door, we have a slightly longer focus on Leon’s face looking at the door she just gone through with a wistful expression. Leon’s own expectations weren’t that disparate from Ada’s, but both watched it slipping through their fingers again. 
Her last confrontation with Krauser has a great dialogue as well. She mocks him from the start (“Oh, Krauser. I’m sorry, I jumped the gun when I reported you dead to Wesker.”) since she couldn’t wait to put an end to him with her own hands so Wesker wouldn’t dare using this against her anymore (“Hum…. Think of all the paperwork I’ll have to fill out if you were to show up alive.”) We know that this isn’t just about convenience, but also a matter of self-preservation. Oh, and safeguarding Leon’s life. 
After killing Krauser, her comment is also loaded with double meaning, (“That’s a large thing you have there… But I don’t like it when men play rough…”) a remark that references directly her last run-in with Leon. The man she’s in love with just tried to strangle her (albeit under mind-control) and destroyed the mood that could’ve led them to have some physical closeness after years. 
Afterwards, Ada’s new goal, once again, involves providing help to Leon’s journey – helping him get rid of the parasite in his body and aiding him in completing his mission. That way she can complete her own in peace. 
She assists him in rescuing Ashley from Saddler’s hands – firing against the cult leader a hail of bullets and urging Leon to take Ashley outta the chair she’s imprisoned in and to immediately move out of there with the girl, leaving Saddler to her. All of this not without a cost: Saddler has the upper hand in the confrontation that ensues, and captures Ada. Again, helping Leon proves to be a disadvantageous choice to her agenda: helping him literally turns her into the cult leader’s new hostage. And Ada nearly thought her mission was over when she saw Saddler fall – almost put her hands on the sample. She’d finally be able to help Leon and still complete her own mission without major headaches… but, things are never simple for both of them, are they? 
On Leon’s side, having already removed the parasite off his body and with Ashley safe and sound under his guarding, the conclusion seems obvious: it’s time to go home, right? But he suspects there’s something missing (“Something’s not right.”), and orders Ashley to wait for him exactly where she is – where he knows it’s clear of threats. I particularly enjoy how he doesn’t still know for sure that Ada is being held hostage, but it’s like he catches this sense of foreboding hanging in the air that alerts his instincts about the oddity in the absence of a detail which he cares deeply about, one relevant enough to dissuade him in feeling confident to straightaway leave that place. “The ties that bind” (as per their theme song in RE6), hnm? Their connection is so strong that it’s like a sixth sense warning them whenever one or the other is under risk. As I thought, Capcom’s zeal in writing and developing their recurring plot themes and overall romantic subplot airtightly is infallible. 
And that’s how the cult’s leader baits Leon’s interest: hanging Ada well-tied on a clear view. Of course Leon will go up there to save her, even if he’s already vaccinated against the virus these crazy people injected on him and finally has the girl he should save and bring back home under his care, right? Obviously. He screams Ada’s name in what must be the fifth time in this game, and when Saddler approaches him still trying to exploit the control Las Plagas had over his body, he doesn’t waste any time in playing the cocky hero and provoking his adversary (“Better try a new trick, ‘cause that one’s getting old!”). 
Leon suspends time again, just like he did that dawn in Raccoon on RE2R when he confronted her about her lies and challenged her to shoot him while everything was falling apart around them – now, he does it with the enemy dangerously near them: he stops to check if she’s alright (“You okay?”) and she responds in a teasing but gentle tone (“I’ve been better…”)¹ – it’s really like they’ve stopped time and forgot space again. And that’s why Saddler laughs. 
Leon looks annoyed to be remembered of the presence of the antagonist (“What’s so funny?!”), to which Saddler sees then the opportunity to deliver the obligatory villain’s speech as an elucidation on what’s amusing him (“Oh, I think you know… The American prevailing is a cliché that only happens in your Hollywood movies! Oh, Mr. Kennedy! You entertain me! To show my appreciation, I’ll help you awaken from your world of clichés!!!”). I like how Saddler explicitly mocks Leon and Ada’s little moment since Leon seems to be so overconfident regarding his victory at the end of this long journey precisely because he just saved the woman he’s in love with (something that even makes him forget about time and space for a minute). It really is similar to the Hollywood clichés: the hero achieves ultimate victory when he gets to save his romantic interest – the end. 
Everything that follows from here is just as good: Leon making sure to warn Ada to step aside when Saddler starts mutating (“Ada, stand back!”) and Ada rushing to help him in her own manner, then throwing a Rocket Launcher for him and prompting him to put an end to the confrontation (“Use this!”) – an unmistakable echo to RE2 OG. I’ll harp on the same string again here: I don’t like for one bit that the writers chose to change the circumstances in which she helps Leon with this exact same matter in RE2R so that Leon wouldn’t have had any suspicion on whom might have thrown him that Rocket Launcher to finish Mr. X off; it bothers me a lot since this was a consolidated tradition on the franchise – this specific dynamic between them and Leon being conscious about it. Welp. 
He saves Ada, finally defeats Saddler, and… picks up the Las Plagas sample from the cult’s leader body. Ada’s mission goal. The sole reason for her to be there in the first place.
we fight every night for something when the sun sets we’re both the same half in the shadows half burned in flames we can’t look back for nothing take what you need say your goodbyes I gave you everything and it’s a beautiful crime
(Beautiful Crime – Tamer)
If she doesn’t get her hands on this damn thing right now they’re both going to die, that much she’s certain about. So she points her gun to the back of his head, asks him to forgive her and presses him to hand her the sample (“Sorry, Leon. Hand it over.”) and look, he knows she won’t shoot.
He’s not a fool to infer that she’ll because she just spent at least the last 48 or 72 hours helping him and saving his ass again, and again and again. Come on, think with me: Leon blacks out and spends six hours in that abandoned shack after fighting Del Lago, only regaining consciousness when it’s already dark; it’s dawn when he teams up with Luis in that hut just before he and Ashley follow their way to the castle; he gets stuck inside the castle practically the entire day because when he goes through the mines and the ruins at the back of the castle area it’s almost night again, which means that the amount of time he takes to finally leave the castle after facing Salazar and take Ada’s lift to the island fits the period of dusk to dawn; in the island his journey takes long enough for us to see the sunset again when the Ganados horde destroy the reinforcement helicopter U. S. sent him and he confronts Krauser without Ada’s help; it’s morning when Ada runs off after pointing her gun at his head and taking the sample, leaping into the air so the helicopter picks her up. Therefore, the game implies that we spend a day in each map: the village, the castle and the island – that’s 72 hours. In any case, it’s at least 48 hours.
So, he surrenders the sample to her because deep down he knows she’s bluffing and he also suspects that she must have her reasons.
In addition, let us not forget that their first reunion scene in this game has a slow-motion sequence to show us – amongst other things – that Leon is able to quickly disarm her even when she’s pointing her gun to his back at a distance of maybe less than two inches. As he was forced to become a secret agent to the government, he most certainly went through intensive training over the last six years, so, apart from knowing that Ada would never pull the trigger against him, we also know that Leon, if he genuinely wanted to, could easily disarm her. But he doesn’t. He chooses to give up the sample to her, he chooses her.
RE4 bluntly suggests that Leon is willing to brush aside his principles, ignore his sense of duty and ethics and even possibly betray his country – for her, to choose her. It’s fairly likely that hadn’t they been forced to follow different paths in RE2 OG and RE2R, he would’ve done the same. At the end of the day, that threat of “taking her in”, arresting her, was just bravado. This is clearer for him now, of course – six years after Raccoon, Leon had the distance of time and space to hone his wisdom and balance regarding this inner moral struggle he faces between what he feels for Ada and his consciousness, his integrity; although we all are well aware that at the decision-making time, romanticism would topple rationalism, that he’d let idealism speak louder than his sense of pragmatism. That he’d let her win.
This is how much he trusts her – it could be nothing more than a passionate impulse motivated by a gut feeling, an unexplainable instinct, it may not even be something he consciously desires, but it’s what he always comes down to – and that’s why he took that leap of faith six years ago in defying her to shoot, that’s why now, again, he takes a leap of faith passing her the sample without putting up a fight, because he KNOWS that she won’t shoot, he doesn’t need to challenge her once again so he can prove it to her and to himself. Thus, this is another mirror scene: that’s what he was going to do in RE2 OG and RE2R hadn’t she “died” – they don’t need her pointing a gun at him, that’s just a pretext for both of them. But, back to the story climax in Spain, his only reaction then, is to ensure, as much to himself as to her, that she knows what she’s going for (“Ada, you do know what this is.”). Yes, of course she knows. And he knows she does.
She goes on her way, reassuring him about the fate of the sample (“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of it.”), perhaps to reinforce that he didn’t make the wrong call. Leon’s sixth loud cry for her name is answered with a curt goodbye and a bit of quippy advice (“Gotta go. If I were you, I’d get off this island too.”). And I love how baffled he is to see her pressing the detonator button (“She really pushed it!”). Oh, Leon. He really only gave her the sample because he wanted to, didn’t he? So his bewilderment in seeing her activating the detonator isn’t only adequate but natural. This disappointment doesn’t last long, however, since Ada obviously won’t leave without granting him the key to his escape (“Here, catch.”), rush him to take his path outta that damned place and promise, in her own way, that they will eventually see each other again (“Better get a move on. See you around.”).
Leon’s reaction to the gift she throws him, a sneery remark, expresses his frustration and reveals a bit of his wounded ego (“Very cute.”). Yeah, Leon… this isn’t the moment for you two to have a resolution to all the emotional and physical hangings you still have. “Maybe some other time.”
shadows follow me but she is always out of reach but she’s my favourite thing to see her hook is my escape a reflection of my fate and she is everything I need, yeah
(Fangs – Night Riots)
Ashley embodies all of us, the audience, when she inquiries about Ada’s identity and her connection with Leon (“So, who was that woman anyway?”), and although he sounds intrigued by her curiosity, he looks as he might have been expecting it (“Why do you ask?”), to which Ashley proceeds reflecting the audience’s expectations and insists (“Come on. Tell me.”). Leon’s answer, strikingly brilliant and unforgettable (“She’s like a part of me I can’t let go. Let’s leave it at that.”), is one that RE2R without any kind of reservation or shame makes visual and textual echo in that scene where Leon complains missing her (“I can’t believe I actually miss her…”) and smiles wistfully – that’s why you miss her, Leon. It’s only at the end of RE4, then, that this 27-year-old Leon finally finds the answer to something that has been haunting him since he was 21.
In Ada’s scenario ending, we can see her exhaling, understandably relieved as the helicopter flies off that hell island: Leon’s alive! And she didn’t have to “die” this time to accomplish both: keep him alive and complete her mission. Everything worked! Everything’s alright.
Another detail that pleases me a lot – and that RE2R ALSO echoed – is that, after seeing him driving the jet-ski with Ashley towards the sunset, knowing that they’re going home, we have one last broadcast with Hunnigan, in which Leon reports to her about succeeding in rescuing Ashley and how he’s currently taking the young woman back home.
Hunnigan congratulates him, cheerfully, (“You did it, Leon!”), and Leon doesn’t dismiss it as a good excuse to flirt with her (“Thanks. You know, you’re kinda cute without those glasses. Gimme your number when I get back.”). Hunnigan’s answer, firm and composed, is point-blank and carries more than one meaning to the audience (“May I remind you that you’re still on duty?”). Remember Claire flirting with him after Sherry’s question offers an opening for that (“That would’ve been one helluva first date, though.”)? And how Leon, visibly embarrassed, trails off in a bland and ambiguous comment that it’s more to himself than to Claire or Sherry (“Yeah, you have no idea…”) at the end of RE2R? His body-language betraying what – actually, who – we know that surely just crossed his thoughts? RE4 had already done that much earlier! When Hunnigan reminds him how he’s still at work detail – thus he shouldn’t be thinking nor saying these kinds of things –, his reaction is to lament how this seems to be his karma (“Story of my life…”), because really, it’s primarily his job and his sense of duty that keeps him from having what he wants most, isn’t it?
We got a pay-off with this game. RE4 delivers everything the audience wanted with each and every scene and concludes Leon’s plot. Just like Claire reunited with her brother in RE: CV, Leon reunites with Ada in RE4 and, at last, finds an answer as to why he couldn’t, why he wasn’t able to move on in the past six years. Also, RE4’s ending promises us that they will meet again, so we didn’t really need RE6 to play its part as a “pay-off” entry. But, since we did get RE6… We carry on with one more satisfying addition concerning them and their relationship, the only difference being that now, according to their body-language throughout the game, they’re more physically intimate (without even weighing in RE: Damn, which implies it more directly).
I think RE2 OG (and now RE2R) and RE4 both do a great job in showing us Leon and Ada going through all the steps in the chemical process of falling in love with each other, while RE6 shows them at a more comfortable stage of “compassionate love” – the everlasting kind of love that no longer is as euphoric, restless and anxious as it was at the beginning (it’s worth taking a look at this biological process I am talking about and its scientific basis here, here, here, here, here and here). Furthermore, this makes me feel confident that Capcom’s writers working on the franchise’s big instalment numbers know really well what they are doing with these two (at least so far) when they have to present further development for them (amen):
“[…] Levels of the stress hormone cortisol increase during the initial phase of romantic love, marshaling our bodies to cope with the “crisis” at hand. As cortisol levels rise, levels of the neurotransmitter serotonin become depleted. Low levels of serotonin precipitate what’s described as the “intrusive, maddeningly preoccupying thoughts, hopes, terrors of early love”—the obsessive-compulsive behaviors associated with infatuation. If love lasts, this rollercoaster of emotions, and, sometimes, angst, calms within [the years]. […] The passion is still there, but the stress of it is gone […]. Cortisol and serotonin levels return to normal. Love, which began as a stressor (to our brains and bodies, at least), becomes a buffer against stress. Brain areas associated with reward and pleasure are still activated as loving relationships proceed, but the constant craving and desire that are inherent in romantic love often lessen. […] there is an inevitable change over time from passionate love to what is typically called compassionate love—love that is deep but not as euphoric as that experienced during the early stages of romance. That does not, however, mean that the spark of romance is quenched […] […] the excitement of romance can remain while the apprehension is lost. For those whose long-term [relationship] has transitioned from passionate, romantic love to a more compassionate, routine type of love, […] it is possible to rekindle the flame that characterized the relationship’s early days. “We call it the rustiness phenomenon.” […] That alone […] may be enough to bring some couples back to those earlier, exhilarating days, when all they could think about was their newfound love.”
Anyway, that’s why I think that all this “aloof RE4 Leon” talk is nonsense. This is the game that was originally thought as a resolution for Leon’s plot in the franchise – that’s why it ends with the “She’s like a part of me I can’t let go.” line (and that’s why this is my forever favourite OTP quote for them). So much so that RE6 really does seems “extra”: we know that by that point they already are more physically intimate, that they see each other occasionally, etc. But Capcom does a good job in exploiting RE6’s potential, since Leon and Ada’s issue was never only attaining physical intimacy nor sorting out their complex emotional connection and feelings for each other, but the seemingly impossibility of them staying together or, at least, finding peace in their own status-quo – a transition to the final, most mature, peaceful and fructiferous phase of romantic love.
Leon can resign himself and, technically speaking, betray his country… But can Ada simply turn her back on everything she’s involved with without this implicating putting Leon’s entire life at risk? Like it happened throughout RE4? This remains their main dilemma, and one that Capcom continues to exploit spectacularly since it’s a structure that doesn’t bore the audience – and no, I’m not contemplating the haters when I say this, I’m referring to the general audience.
My wish for RE8 – or whatever it is the next entry that features them? A resolution to this last major hanging between the two.
Thank you for coming to my TED Talk, I can only hope this was an interesting, worthwhile and satisfying read. 💓
¹ Also, have you guys seen that DMC5 blatantly makes a reference to this Aeon dialogue with Trish and Dante? (here)
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nerdynformed-blog · 7 years
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Logan is a superhero movie - Part I: What a superhero movie is
I feel someone has to say it: Logan is a superhero movie. It is not a movie-with-superheroes-in-it-but-is-actually-something-else. It is a superhero movie.
Why do I care so much? Well, frankly I hear a lot of people saying that this movie teaches us (the audience and the moviemakers) that we don’t have to make superhero movies, just good movies with superheroes in it. If that does not sound familiar, maybe just go to some YouTube channels like Screenjunkies and the like (I love those guys, by the way).
However, I will argue the opposite: not only Logan is a superhero movie, but also it is what makes it such a great movie. Instead of making more movies-with-superheroes-that-are-not-superhero-movies, we should make better superhero movies. Like Logan.
Movies that don’t try to compensate or apologize for the “superhero stuff” in it. Movies that don’t try to be something else so people will say “it is not just a superhero movie”. Movies that excuse their laziness or unintended silliness with the phrase “it is a superhero movie”.
We need movies that embrace and explore what a superhero is. Like _Logan _did.
Let me just start saying that, predictively, I love this movie. It is great. There is so much good things that I can and will say about it in the future. However, to be blunt, everyone knows it is great. Not just that, there is a lot to be learned from it – both for those who love superheroes and those that make movies. It’s just that “stop making superhero movies” is the wrong lesson.
So I want to concentrate on something no one seems to notice: how good of a superhero movie it is and how we could and should make more movies like it. We don’t have too many superhero movies, we just got too few really good ones. That can be changed by understanding how _Logan _succeeds as being just that. A good superhero movie.
So, I am actually going to take 2 or 3 parts to talk about that. The first part is: what is a superhero movie. Yeah, sounds simple, but trust me.
‘Superhero’ is not a genre
Again, I hear a lot of people talking about the superhero genre – and that Logan is of course something else. It is a drama, it is a western, it is a movie about family. We could argue about it, but right now it doesn’t matter.
_Superhero _is NOT a genre – not to movies, comics, books, nor any medium.
I guess I have to be honest here, I did not go to film school. Far from it, my place in academia is, well… Some other time I will talk about it. But I am not an artist, scholar or critic in that sense – no formal artistic education about film making or anything like that. When it comes to movies, by any means, I am a layman.
However, I do love and study comic books and superheroes, and I obsess over them enough to really know what I am talking about. So my definitions may lack some conceptual finesse, but I think they can really help the conversation. Read them and judge me – but please read them first.
Genre is a very useful classification and, at the same time, misusing it can lead to a lot of trouble to an industry – be it games, movies or something else. Understanding the genre of a product helps the audience to select what they want to watch/read/play/smell.
If you like some movies of one genre, there is a good probability that you are going to enjoy other movies of the same genre. The opposite is also true – some people just cannot get into horror or action movies, doesn’t matter how good or well-made they are.
Understanding what genres people like also helps the industry decide what movies and games to make. It actually affects people’s livelihoods and careers, not to mention culture as a whole.
Honestly, there is a lot of criteria that can be used to classify a movie as part of a specific genre, so yes you will definitely find some definitions by witch I am completely wrong. But not every way to define “genre” actually works or helps the situation we got here – so also judge them with that in mind.
 My personal mechanism is this: a movie genre is defined by the emotional drive that leads the public to want to see it and to enjoy it. It is a simple definition and, if you stop to think about it, it works very well.
You watch dramas to be emotionally involved and moved. Comedies to make you laugh – either out loud or just smirk about the wittiness of the story. Terror is supposed to make you experience fear, and horror, repulse. Action is about the thrills, the benign adrenaline of a fight or a car chase. Fantasy is about the feeling of, well, the presence of the fantastical and awesome. Adventure, romance, suspense – each of those terms describe the emotional state of the audience and the mood/atmosphere the movie has to work with. And sure, you can and should mix them up, but you have to know what ingredients you are using.
However, try to put all superhero movies in a common emotional vibe and see how that goes. We have balls to the wall satirical metamodernist comedy in Deadpool, that gritty tragedy and suspense of The Dark Knight, bad cliché sci-fi in Green Lantern and loads and loads of action in the rest of it.
 There is a lot of movie genres that get confused with the subjects or themes that they usually explore. The best examples, for me, are cowboys, zombies and war. I believe that western and war are genres – and zombies are at least a subgenre of horror/terror. They are all marked by specific kind of character or scenario.
However, they also have their own emotional drives – and those are the real measures of which is a western or a zombie or war movie.
Westerns have that bleak post-apocalyptic dryness to them, with slow long silences and a violence that is dirty, quick and without spectacle.
War movies have that sense of sobriety and sad heroism, of the weight of duty and tragic importance, the loss of innocence and the risk of losing one’s own humanity– all wrapped in that feeling that we might not survive the next few hours.
And zombie movies are about a very specific kind of fear and sense of smallness.
That is reaaaaaaaally simplified, but you get the gist of it.
However, you have a lot of movies with cowboys, soldiers and zombies that are definitely NOT part of those genres, because they don’t have the same atmosphere.  Cowboys and Aliens, the remake of Magnificent Seven are some good examples – a westerns’ fan IS NOT going to like them.
You could argue that _Shawn of the Dead _and Zombieland are zombie-comedies, and that would be ok. But let’s not pretend that the Resident Evil how many? seven movies? are similar in tone to the Romero classics.
And oh boy you have movies with soldiers and battles that are not war movies. If someone tells you “I don’t want to watch Allies or Inglorious Bastards because I did not enjoy Saving Private Rian” they are grossly misinformed – and missing out. You could even say that a fan of war movies is going to enjoy Rogue One more than a fan of Star Wars.
You could say that a lot of nerds like me run to the theater whenever there is a superhero movie – that that is what dives us. And ok, far enough. But still, there are vast differently moods that they have to work with for me to enjoy the movie. So, it is not a genre in this simple and useful definition.
So, if superheroes are not a genre, what are they?
‘Superhero’ is…:
Well…
‘Superhero’ is a subject and a type of character.
Before you start screaming at the screen, here it is why it matters: 
Superheroes are a very special kind of character, and they are a very interesting subject to make movies about. That is the whole point I am trying to make: we need to explore these subjects and characters. We need to do it correctly, informed and unapologetically.
So, here it goes some information, corrections and a rude lack of apologies:
In those discussions about the genre of Logan, people talk about it being a western, and that is not by chance. Superheroes are literary descendent of the cowboy. They are just the last leafs of the same family three in which we have the cowboys, private detectives (no, not Sherlock, something more Dick Tracy or Philip Marlowe), space adventures (like Flash Gordon) and, finally, superheroes. I like to call this the American hero family.
All these heroes, including the superheroes, share some traits. Each one of them acts in a frontier – a dynamic space between civilization and savagery where there is people and humanity, but where safety and social stability are not guaranteed, creating both a place and a need for justice.
The heroes end up also being a mixture of the freedom of the untamed land and the responsibilities brought forward by the presence of other humans, families and society.
The cowboy has the literal frontier, but the cities of private eyes and superheroes are not that safer and/or more civilized when you go into the wrong alleys. Neon and concrete jungles and whatnot. And, in a very American way, those are socially dynamic spaces, with people always going up or down the ladder. (The most bizarre example I can think of this scenario is given by the analysis Extra Credits did on The Witcher 3 – that is fantastic).
They often act alone and are lonely, or at least independent of a higher authority. What drives them are not leaders or rulers, but their own internal moral compass that leads them straight to those in need of help.
They know violence, being able to survive it and inflict it – and that is a big part of it (be it guns, lasers or batarangs).
They are visibly extraordinary, and yet are in some sense common people. They carry our best values, but they are never our kings – so they inspire us, but never govern us.
And they fight for what is right, for justice and freedom: the cowboy may kill some bandits, while superheroes save the world or fight a giant monster, but it is the same thing in kind, if not in scale. Even when most superheroes refuse to kill, they are doing the same thing a cowboy does when he shoots bandits. They are obeying their own moral codes, even when that seems irrational or dangerous.
Even the heroes who work with or even for the government (like Captain America) follow their own morals instead of rules and orders – more often than not disobeying the last. And the Waynes and Starks of the world are always being reminded that, billionaires or not, they are just human. Even Thor in the comics has a double life as a human in a sense or another. Being part of humanity is very important to all these heroes.
However, by no means I want to say that superheroes are just like cowboys and the similar. They have three very necessary characteristics that makes the superhero a different species altogether, even if a member of the same family.
First of all, their superpowers. All superheroes are marked by one ability or a set of abilities that makes them something special. Even those with no superpower have access to some ability, technology or resource that makes them impossible to emulate, that sets them apart – even if it is just being really, really good with a bow and arrow. Even the Punisher has a very-much-above-average talent to kill and make war. Superheroes who lack this trait, either don’t last long or change soon.
More important than anything else, however, is their fashion sense. The cape, the mask, the symbol on the chest – the uniform makes a hero super. It is where the powers actually come from, if you believe the Mermaidman. They all have something that works as the face of their super persona – a color scheme, a recognizable silhouette, a pair of jeans and white shirt they love to wear. They even have special names that they use when dressed up: Superman, Wonder Woman, Gold Balls.
The most extreme cases are the Punisher, the Fantastic Four, the X-men (at least in the movies) and some of the Inhumans: character that don’t have secret identities, that don’t even wear masks, but still put on a uniform and call themselves by special names, as if invoking powerful beings that would never be called Reed, Frank or Hank.
Finally, the powers and the uniform combine to generate the most important trace of the superhero: the double identity. Not necessarily a secret identity, but always a double one.
Again, even heroes without secret identities have a need to be someone else or something else when “doing super stuff”. But they also have a birth name, civil clothing and a life outside of being super. In many (or most) cases, they keep their identities secret and completely separated, but even public supergenius have domestic lives and close people that call them Johnny or Charles.
They have human worries and relationships, being ever relatable in a sense or another. They are similar to us and – simultaneously – what we only dream of becoming. The mission is not everything to them. They save the world and have wives, they fight evil and pay rent, they fly and do the dishes. They have super adventures and human lives. That is what makes them superhuman.
They are at the same time human and divine – both aspects so clearly distinct that they have different names and appearances, but both deeply important for themselves and the stories.  
That is interesting, because we have people who are much more amazing than the cowboys and detectives, but so much more human than they are also. They are greater crime-fighters, lifesavers and alien-fighters than Dick Tracy or Flash Gordon; but also have a separate job and/or family, very much human and “normal” – and they relish in that. Their normal lives are nice and important to them.
That leads us the last point of Part I. Since I am arguing that _Logan _is a superhero movie, I am going to define what a superhero movie is.
Finally, Superhero Movies are…
Simply put, it is a movie of ANY GENRE that focuses on a character with those traits and/or the traits themselves.
A original superhero movie is one that explores that in a original way.
A deep superhero movie is one that uses that to explore some deep questions.
A good superhero movie is a movie that is good in talking about that.
 And I still defend the idea that ANY GENRE can benefit from doing that.
Dramas can focus on the weight and loneliness of living a double life. The sense of hopelessness of needing to do good, but being faced with a world that may never be completely fixed and even resists small changes. The hard work that is, more than doing the right thing, deciding what is right when you cannot just follow orders or “be normal”. And the emptiness that comes with the lack of certainty and closure after the fight is over and you just don’t know if you did the right thing. And the sacrifice – which one do you make? Your normal life or your grater purpose? Which will hurt you the most? Can you survive any?
Comedies can either make fun of the escapades and the excuses the hero has to improvise or lightheartedly poke holes in the whole attitude of some guy putting a colorful costume and calling himself a fantasy name. In the other hand, the larger than life superpersonas can be used to mock our occasional pettiness and thin skin, making us the strange and the superheroes the normal.
Action has a ton of possible situations to explore that “normal” people would not provide. Not just because of the powers – although, yes because of the powers – but also because of the appearance of the hero and the way they act out of the common structures of law enforcement. You can have a character that is much more of a common man than John McClane and, simultaneously, waaay more of a block buster than Rambo. And whose raison d'être necessarily leads him or her to action and danger.
The fantastical and the sci-fi can take all their iconic powers and narratives and see how they work when competing with the normal life of a normal human. Maybe we even get some perspective in how better we are in our imperfect world instead of Narnia, Middle Earth or Asgard.
Well, reading this, you probably already know how I justify calling Logan a superhero movie. If not, then even better! You are going to love to read Part II – Logan as a superhero movie. I will discuss then how it uses the superhero to make some grate drama.
When I post it, that is…
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thornswithroses · 7 years
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2016 Books I’ve Read
I had been hoping to read more books last year, but I am relieved to have made it halfway to my reading goals. It is a lot better than it was back in 2015. 
Real Murders (Aurora Teagarden, book #1) by Charlaine Harris
I actually enjoy Harris’ other mysteries more than I do the Sookie Stackhouse series. And I’m glad I only bothered with one of the Stackhouse books, considering that I hear how disappointing the last book ended. It does not help that the True Blood series left a bad taste my mouth after how they end Tara. The Harper Connelly books are actually my favorites, but the Teagarden ones may soon prove to be my second. I like Aurora Teagarden, I like how as ridiculous and delightfully flowery of a name she has, she is a grounded person.
Harris likes to describe the clothing her protagonists wear or want, and while I usually enjoy that aspect of writing, it is rather amusing when Harris does it. Namely, because the clothes she describes sound rather dated and probably would be more suited to someone in their sixties rather than their late twenties. 
The writing is sparse but absorbing, and Harris has a flair for a comfortable Agatha Christie likability in most of her works. This is no exception that.
Would recommend: a cozy but gripping reading to relax at night with.
Ash by Malinda Lo
I found myself so frustrated for sweet Ash. I never really appreciated how much the original Cinderella had to overcome until reading this book. Even her beloved father talked over the healing women of their original village, including Ash’s mother. Isobel is one of my most hated characters this year, for how she abuses Ash. And how much of pain Ash goes through could have been avoided if she had been listened to. 
I am usually leery of love triangles where the queer girl has to choose between a man or a woman. I’m bisexual, and I am very much aware that a queer woman is not less queer for wanting to be with a man. However, we cannot argue that heterosexual relationships are prioritized over homosexual ones. We cannot claim that bisexuality is not often dismissed as a curiosity by writers, most especially by male ones. It is 2017, and this shit still occurs. We cannot argue that female sexuality and relationships with women, be they romantic or platonic, are often dismissed in media. 
That said, I knew Malinda Lo was not going to fail me with how she handled Ash’s bisexuality. I used to follow Malinda Lo’s writings on AfterEllen in my Baby Feminist Years, and I do not regret that. She is a phenomenal writer, whether she writes in fiction or nonfiction. 
Ash’s relationships to Sidhean and Kaisa are different but special in her life. With Kaisa, their relationship has the delectability of apples, a tenderness and subtle warmth that is not written enough for gay relationships. With Sidhean, there is a tension for forbidden lust and the gradual trust they grow for one another. 
The ending is satisfying, but that is all I will give to you. I urge you to read this book, especially as it comes from an author that actually actively works with diversifying young adult literature to the best she can. 
Would recommend: a thoughtful, lyrical novel about a girl that overcomes obstacles to find love and her own independence. 
Mary Reilly by Valerie Marin
This is the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde as seen through the eyes of Mary Reilly, a loyal, hardworking house-maid for the doctor. The book is written as if it were from Mary’s own journaling. 
I like the protagonist. Usually, when the perspectives of fringe characters are written about how they view a famed character, they simplify too many matters.
With Mary, yes, she is enamored but misguided by Dr. Jekyll’s supposed virtues, but as the novella goes on, as palpable as the sexual tension gets between them, she is not shy about pointing out the classism he and the world have on her, at least to herself. 
The book also has her deal with the abuses she undergone as a child from her father’s hands. I will not give spoilers away, but it is rather satisfying how she comes to terms with her abuse after attending a funeral (and, no, it’s not her abuser’s funeral.)
I like the different relationships she has with her fellow servants and how we see the grit of her daily duties. As I said before, the sexual tension between Mary and Dr. Jekyll is deliciously intense. It also helps that they are both shown to genuinely care about each other, adding a certain sweetness to the star-crossed quality of their relationship. 
And when the book wants to be chilling, it does indeed do that.
Would recommend: for all your fun, gothy indulgences!
The Name of The Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
An underrated epic fantasy that seems to understand that the quiet moments of a person’s life is just as important as the high-paced ones. The narration written uniquely, there’s a story-within-a-story with yet another one hidden somewhere under there. 
I enjoy reading older, isolated, world-weary Kvothe and how that contrasts with him telling his story of a younger, bright-eyed him that wants to learn and wants to avenge his loved ones. 
The book is a big one, and it is filled to the brim of so many conflicts and adventures. The humor is vibrant as red, the constant worry of poverty always hitting close to home for me, and his friendships and rivalries with everyone makes one feel invigorating. Oh, believe me, there is plenty of darker aspects to this story, and plenty of moments where I had to take a break from reading because it hurt too much at times. But Rothfuss seems to have the instinctual sense of when enough is enough, unlike the likes of George R.R. Martin and Joss Whedon.
Sometimes I got annoyed with how it felt like the author’s own feelings spilled somewhere. I thought the book could get too dismissive of the beliefs of the rural villages, and, believe me, I hate the concept of a sweet, harmless small town, especially when it mostly features white people. I’m no Stars Hollow fangirl, but my issue is rather it does not look at it through a nuanced lens.
All in all, what issues I have are little compared to so many factors that had me enjoy this book.
Would recommend: for people looking for a rich narrative that carves out many emotions from you, especially if you’re looking for an elaborate fantasy.
Decreation by Anne Carson
I am going to be real with you.
There are a lot of elements to this book that have flown over my head. 
Decreation holds so many references and vocabulary that had me searching all sorts of sources to understand. 
I have been interested in reading Anne Carson since seeing so many snippets of her words around.  It's possibly odd to say that being confused by the book and having to do research to know it makes me enjoy "Decreation" very much. I like books that force me to think. I like books that have the sort of lines that ring well together like a series of synchronizing bells. Anne Carson has an enthralling mind, and I look forward to reading more of her work. If you want to read a challenging book with prose and poetry that is clean and shining like knives, this is the book for you
Would recommend: for people looking for something that makes them want to ponder and to be lulled by the beauty of how words are arranged.
The Poison Eaters and Other Stories by Holly Black
When it comes to short story collections, let's face it, there are going to be stories that you adored, stories you're indifferent to, and stories you just really, really, really hate. For most of the stories in this collection, I enjoyed them immensely. I remember when I read Holly Black's first novel, Tithe, I was absorbed by the lush prose. I can only describe it as like a spiderweb, how it shimmered and ensnared. I am crestfallen that she has simplified that style over the years, I wish YA authors can trust their readers, especially the teenage ones, into appreciating descriptive prose. One of the reasons why I moved from YA literature to adult fiction by the time I was sixteen was because I got tired of the simple style of writing. I wanted to challenge myself more, and I wanted to appreciate the art of language. I still do. Holly Black's style is still not how it was in her Tithe days, but the stories are still written in an eye-catching way. Maybe not like a spiderweb, but surely as the sheen of water. My favorites were: "The Coldest Girl in Coldtown" is about vampire towns, need I say more? "The Boy Who Cried Wolf" had an interesting take of becoming a wolf where it is a flower instead of a bloody chomp that turns you. I will admit I have always had a soft spot for beautiful things that cause horror. "The Night Market" was a delightful romance with a Filipino girl with a port stain birthmark on her face that has an elf in a tree enamored with her, much to her surprise and frustration. It was entertaining to see their dynamic of challenging and outwitting one another, especially over the girl's sister's safety. "The Dog King" was with wolves in a castle, literally and metaphorically. "The Coat of Stars" was about a gay man rescuing his lost love, with the bonus of costume porn. "The Land of Heart's Desire" had me the excellent opportunity of reuniting with beloved characters from Black's Modern Faerie Tales series. The last story, "The Poison Eaters," I love the unique narration, the way the girl that was a weapon became a strategist for revenge. The stories I disliked were few and far. "A Reversal of Fortune" had an endearing pit bull dog, but that's all the positivity I can give it. The story's concept sounded good--a girl challenges the Devil to save her pet's life--but written in such a weak and juvenile way that was also, to put it bluntly, gross. "Virgin" also had an interesting concept but I feel this had the potential to have been expanded more, whether novel-length or just a longer short story. "In Vodka Veritas" went too far into the silly route for me, especially for an interesting concept as having a Bacchanal in a high school prom. The narrator was also annoying as fuck. "Paper Cuts Scissors" should have expanded the characters more, it was a shallow little story. "Going Ironside" was hard to follow and it had a good concept but a lukewarm execution.
The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison
The Goblin Emperor is a political fantasy that is loving and hopeful and does not move through violence necessarily so much as surviving the eyes and gossip of a land that does not always see half-Goblins like Maia in high regards. I like my prickly books; I appreciate the blood and the lust and the anger, and all the other juicy bits of a harrowing plot. Believe me, I do. However, I honestly find the politics here and in the Kushiel's Legacy far more engrossing than in famous works such as Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series. Maia is proof that having a genuinely sweet personality does not make one a dull protagonist. He is an underdog and coming from an abusive home life will certainly have readers already feeling protective of him. The biggest charm out of Maia however, is how Maia uses his goodness and need for survival to be calculating as Maia moves into the Emperor role. He's calculating how good his ruling should be. That is striking to me. He holds similar characteristics to one of my favorite fantasy characters, Sansa Stark. The characters surrounding him, all differing arrays of morals, are also striking. His bodyguards that are quite the sun-and-moon pair in demeanor and strength, his loyal assistant, his fiance, a passionate warrior girl. All in all, this was a satisfying read and one that I will enjoy rereading again and again. 
Would recommend: if you love character-driven stories set in a lush, intricately-woven setting with one of the most likable protagonists around. 
Carpathia by Cecilia Woloch
Woloch writes of moving, of grief, of love, all with great aplomb. There is a birdlike quality to her words as she talks about her father, his death, love, of moving across so many landscapes. Her poems have the serenity of the color blue. I cannot wait to see read more from her. 
Would recommend: if you want to be lulled by beautiful wording and imagery.
The Divinity Student by Michael Cisco
This book is like reading one long hallucination. The surrealism is everywhere, the horror underlying everything. The imagery is haunting in the best of ways, it feels like smoke clinging to your clothes. There is no logic to this story. You just cannot make sense of it. There is a reason why Cisco is often compared to Franz Kafka.
Would recommend: if you want to pore over surrealism and odd imagery rather than a particular plot. 
Uprooted by Naomi Novik
One of the most satisfying fantasies I have read the past few years. Novik knows how to make twists and she knows how to make those twists flow right. While I could feel old-school sort of fantasy as a backbone to this story, it still stands all on its own. The characters were vivid in their personalities.
Sometimes I had frustrations with Agnieszka, with how much she fussed over dealing with fancy indulgences. There is nothing wrong with her for preferring a rural, simpler life, but it felt tacked-on too often. At least it is not as bad as Hunger Games, where the bad guys in that story enjoyed to opulent, feminine indulgences that had something of a homophobic coding too. 
I do adore how Agnieszka’s clumsiness is not made to be endearing, but a human flaw. I wish to have seen more of her friendship with Kasia and see her relationship with the Dragon get developed more but all in all, it was enjoyable. 
The magic system was also beautifully envisioned and executed. 
Would recommend: character-driven, brilliant world-building, and unique storytelling.
Batgirl, Volume 1: The Darkest Reflection by Gail Simone
I hate the new 52. I hate most of it. I'm probably not going to read most titles from DC for a while. I am still not forgiving them for that hot topic nightmare that is Harley Quinn's makeover. I also have a small confession to make.
As a child, I was not that interested in Batgirl. I liked her enough on the Adam West show. I thought it was fantastic that she was a librarian. I thought Yvonne Craig was lovely. Other than that depiction, I barely gave thought to Barbara Gordon. 
With DC animation, my holy trinity of favorite female characters was Huntress (Bertinelli), Wonder Woman, and Catwoman. In recent years, especially with the passing of Craig, I've come to appreciate her more, value her character, her relationships with others, her strong will, her kindness, her flaws, her mistakes. Gail Simone actually made her a whole person to me when she was Oracle. And while I am still pissed that she is not that anymore, Simone's writing had me cheer for Barbara in getting back out onto the streets. This volume shows the ups and downs of her friendships to people she has known for a long time, the tentative friendship with her roommate that has the potential to expand a lot deeper, and above all, her relationship with both her parents. It always annoyed me when superhero stories got with the Disney Parent Problem, where there was only one parent active in the protagonist's life and how that was most often the father. Here, we see Barbara's mother and how their relationship is broken, and you feel for both of them. You want to be angry with Barbara's mom for leaving the family, but you also empathize her efforts into healing that rift, especially how they're not quite satisfied; no doubt there is a deeper story about why exactly she left. You understand Barbara's hurt but you also know she's not one to deal with emotions, including bitterness, well, and she is not above pettiness and evasiveness. I really look forward to where this goes in the next volumes.
Would recommend: for long-time Batgirl fans and for those interested in getting to know her more.
Ms. Marvel, Volume 1: No Normal by G. Willow Wilson
Kamala Khan has to be one of the sweetest characters I ever had the fortune of reading. She’s awkward, silly, earnest, and good-intentioned.
Some of the dialogue does feel stilted. I am guessing because Wilson is still trying to balance showing real-life issues while telling a story. I know people had issues with how static her family feels at the moment, although from what I’ve seen, they do develop well as the series goes on.
Would recommend: a fun, charismatic read that personally makes me think back to watching favorite Saturday morning cartoons.
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