I absolutely love the overall work of Marissa Meyer. No, not the ex-president of Yahoo!, but the author of assorted sci-fi and fantasy books, most notably the Lunar Chronicles series. I’ve read all her books to date, and I’ve enjoyed them all except for the Alice in Wonderland prequel Heartless. Please let it be noted that I am not saying Heartless is bad, because it’s not. It’s objectively quite good. I just didn’t enjoy it because it’s a very bleak, rather depressing book. If you enjoy that sort of book, by all means, descend upon it like a swarm of locusts and gobble it up.
And like most of her readers, I was first introduced to Marissa Meyer through the Lunar Chronicles’ first volume, Cinder, which is a retelling of the Cinderella fairy tale with an Asian sci-fi twist, with interstellar politics and a plague. I won’t go into too many details about the overall plot, which stretches over four books, a prequel, a collection of short stories, and a sequel two-part graphic novel. But suffice to say that each of the main books focuses on a fairy tale that is reimagined in a sci-fi setting – Red Riding Hood, Snow White, Rapunzel – which is folded into Meyer’s universe of the oppressive Lunar civilization, a plague, futuristic unified versions of Africa, Asia and Europe, and so on.
So if you enjoy science fiction, or if you enjoy fairy tales… or both… this is a good young-adult series. It also has some pretty healthy romances in it, while still including some superficial bad-boy/Prince Charming archetypes.
The original covers were fairly pretty, but I absolutely love the new covers that they’re rereleasing the books with. As in, I might buy the books again so I can possess these beautiful covers.
Also, read the Renegades trilogy. It’s also very good. Maybe I’ll babble about that later.
For the record, the title does not refer to Batman and Superman being enemies with each other, as in Batman v. Superman. No, this refers to the two most famous superheroes in the world being enemies of the public. Or more precisely, the U.S. government, which is not the same thing at all.
And that concept is enough to carry most of Superman/Batman: Public Enemies, with Superman and Batman going up against progressively more powerful enemies from both the hero and villain categories. But the real meat of the movie is the powerful friendship between two very different men, one an energetic and morally-powerful alien and one a dark brooding guy with problems expressing his feelings.
After the American economy collapses, Lex Luthor runs for president as a third-party candidate, and somehow manages to win despite his past as a supervillain. A third-party candidate winning? Now you know comic-book stories are science-fiction.
However, Superman bluntly refuses to believe that Luthor has reformed, and believes this is all some kind of elaborate scheme. And his suspicions are apparently proved correct when Luthor arranges a meeting… which turns out to be a trap so that his old enemy can be taken down by Metallo. Batman manages to rescue Superman from Metallo’s ongoing attack, but soon Superman finds that he’s been framed for Metallo’s murder.
Also, a meteorite made of kryptonite is about to smash into the Earth, and Luthor has appointed himself the Big Brain who can save us all from it. This will be important.
Claiming that the kryptonite meteorite has driven Superman insane, Luthor puts a bounty of one billion on his head – and now Superman and Batman are up against money-hungry attackers from both the villain and hero sides of the aisle. And their enemies are getting progressively more powerful as they approach Luthor, even as they try to come up with a solution to save the Earth from total destruction.
Speaking personally, I really enjoy the friendship between Batman and Superman, primarily because their relationship is a study in contrasts. Superman is open, emotional, bright and sunny, while Batman is taciturn, emotionally reserved, dark and more than a little weird. And yet they are both noble and deeply moral at their core, which is what makes them so compatible despite their differing outlooks and ways. That aspect of their friendship is what makes Public Enemies such a rewarding experience: seeing their bromance and how they uncomplainingly support and protect each other no matter what.
And while they do that, they’re also in a series of superpowered punch-’em-ups that pit them against a variety of enemies, ranging from the relatively obscure (Black Spider, Nightshade) to the famous (Captain Marvel, Hawkman). Some of these fights are pretty intricate and harrowing, such as Metallo shooting Superman with a sliver of kryptonite. And in between, we have some quieter moments such as Superman and Batman making their way through the sewers, having odd little discussions about the supervillains they’ve defeated over the years.
It also has a pretty excellent voice cast, with the trinity of Kevin Conroy, Tim Daly and Clancy Brown as Batman, Superman, and Lex Luthor. Conroy and Daly are typically excellent in their roles, and Brown plays both the oily, cruel Lex and the cuckoopants Lex with equal aplomb. C.C.H. Pounder is also excellent as Amanda Waller, who serves as a blunt-spoken counterbalance to Lex’s delusion and egotistical hubris. Allison Mack’s performance as Power Girl is rather flat, though.
And the animation is pretty clean and well-done. The only problem I have is that the superhero costumes are beyond skin-tight – the male characters have abs so perfectly-outlined that it looks like they’re all smuggling bags of oranges. As for Power Girl… let’s just say we know for a fact that she isn’t wearing a bra.
If you like the friendship between Batman and Superman, than Superman/Batman: Public Enemies is the movie for you. If you like cleanly animated, action-filled superhero adventures, then it works too.
And before anyone gets mad, I am speaking of the 2019 reboot of Hellboy, not the excellent comic book series or Guillermo del Toro’s also-excellent movie (or its also-also excellent sequel).
This movie is genuinely hard to watch. And I don’t say that because it’s needlessly gory in a “I AM SO EDGY IT’S NOT A PHASE MOM” kind of way. It is hard to watch because there are so many “why” and “why is this in the movie” and “this is pointless” and “this person’s accent is very bad” moments. Why did they hire two Americans to play two English people, especially when one of those English people was an American in the comics? And neither of them is good at accents?
And there is so… much… infodumping. It feels like every person we encounter pelts exposition at us until the “welcome to the BPRD” scene from the 2004 film feels like a gentle breeze wafting over my face.
And why the hell is Lobster Johnson in here? Sure, I know who he is -because I have no life and my brain overflows with trivia that nobody cares about – but can you imagine being some ordinary person going to see a movie about a demon paranormal investigator, and then randomly this other character takes over for an important scene with no explanation? And you have no idea why he’s important, or why he’s in the movie. It would be like including Tom Bombadil in the Lord of the Rings movies.
So yes, this movie is a mess in every sense of the word. Also, the CGI in certain scenes is… disgracefully bad. Those giants literally do not look finished.
Kiera Cass began her publishing career with a dystopian series about a young woman’s part in seeking a royal’s hand in marriage. I guess now that dystopian sci-fi is no longer in vogue and high fantasy is popular in the young-adult market, she decided to tackle the same material in a high fantasy setting.
Unfortunately, the whole girl-in-the-running-to-marry-a-monarch story is much less compelling or unique when it takes place in a Generic Medieval Kingdom with a Generic Monarchy and a Generic Court. “The Betrothed” isn’t a bad novel in any way, but Cass simply doesn’t draw anything unusual, rich or nuanced out of her story. Every part of it is more or less predictable from the beginning.
Over the past year, young King Jameson has had flirtations with several young ladies, but has never shown serious intentions towards any of them. Hollis Brite initially believes she is just another one, but then Jameson starts showing interest in making her his queen. At first, Hollis is overjoyed – despite her controlling parents, this means she will be a vital figure in a kingdom known for powerful queens. Plus, Jameson is handsome, charming, and he dotes on her, so what downside is there?
But the pressures of royal life begin to weigh on her when the king and queen of neighboring Isolte come to visit, and Hollis begins to wonder if Jameson wants her to take an active role in the kingdom, or just be an ornamental bit of arm candy. She’s also developed an interest in Silas, an Isoltan nobleman who has… blue eyes. That’s about all that is memorable about him. But pursuing her heart has some unpleasant results for Hollis, and sets her on a path that she never imagined.
The biggest problem with “The Betrothed” is simply that it is so generic. The setting is a generic European country that you would find in any fairy tale, without any special cultural flourishes. The worldbuilding is not very rich or deep, and the court drama/machinations are pretty simple. The main story is essentially telling us that you should marry for love and not money/power, which is not a particularly unusual moral for this kind of romantic story. It’s the kind of thing you find in Disney stories.
Cass herself seems to realize that her book is pretty by-the-numbers late in the story, which is when she flips everything on its head and stuff gets dramatic and unconventional. It’s given some foreshadowing in advance, but it could have used some more – instead, a massive development sort of pops out of nowhere, and everything is left hanging on a precipice for what will presumably be a sequel.
Hollis is a pretty bland heroine. There’s nothing about her to explicitly dislike, but she seems very sheltered and kind of clueless about how royal life works. For instance, it comes as a massive shock to her when she discovers that Jameson is already making marriage arrangements for their not-yet-conceived children, which really feels like something she should already know if she’s in the nobility. We’re told how amusing and caring and charming she is, but only some of it filters through.
As for the other characters, few of them make much of an impression – most of them flit into the plot for awhile, then just sort of fade back out. Silas doesn’t have much chemistry with Hollis – as nice as it is to have a pleasant, non-threatening romantic lead, he really felt more like a friend than a lover.
And of course, Delia Grace. Delia Grace is, simply put, obnoxious – we’re assured that she has suffered extensive bullying at court, but that doesn’t really excuse her selfish, bratty, contemptuous behavior towards Hollis. Her jealousy doesn’t elicit sympathy for her life; it just makes me want her gone.
“The Betrothal” throws some curveballs in its final act, but everything that builds up to it is incredibly generic and by-the-numbers. Here’s hoping that Cass brings us something meatier for the sequel.
There are certain things that are just objectively true. Water is wet. The sky is blue. The Pope is Catholic. Gingers have no souls. Michael Bay’s Transformers movies are incredibly bad.
And while the first live-action Transformers movie is not the mind-blowing trainwreck that many of its sequels would become, it’s still a terrible movie. It’s a bloated, sluggish mass of sexism, racism, ‘splosions and horrible comic relief, overflowing with characters that annoy me to the point of frothing madness. It’s a movie that seems to stretch forever until my patience is on the verge of snapping… but not quite dull enough to actually be called boring.
A teenage boy named Sam Witwicky (Shia Labeouf) finally gets his first car – a used yellow-and-black car that somehow blasts out the windows of every other car on the lot. No, it’s not possessed – it’s just an alien robot in disguise. Which is better, I guess.
At the same time, mysterious shapeshifting robots are attacking a U.S. military base on Qatar, downloading classified information and attacking various noble, two-dimensional soldiers. These hostile alien robots, known as Decepticons, are actually trying to locate and attack Sam because they want the old family heirlooms that he’s trying to sell on eBay. Specifically, they want a pair of old broken glasses that belonged to his ancestor. Yes, he thinks he can get a lot of money for broken antique glasses. Sam is not very smart, you may quickly see.
Fortunately, the details of this are explained to him by the leader of the good alien robots-disguised-as-motor-vehicles, Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen), who are on Earth to find a MacGuffin that is vitally important to both sides of their civil war. And the glasses are the key to finding it for… stupid reasons. However, Sam and his maybe-girlfriend Mikaela (Megan Fox) soon run afoul of a secret government agency that has known about the Transformers for a very long time. And, well, things get messy plotwise.
Michael Bay’s Transformers is one of those movies where almost everything seems to be wrong with it. The actual plot of the film is a bloated, lumbering, stumbling mass of incoherent conflicts that all eventually crash together, and it seems to last forever. It’s only about two and a quarter hours long, but it feels like being dragged facedown behind a slow-moving car on a ten-mile-long gravel driveway.
And it’s dripping with racism (the only non-buffoonish black person is a soldier), sexism (the camera does everything but lick Mikaela) and an uncomfortable level of military fetishization. The entire subplot about the soldiers in the desert could have been written out of the story, and we would have gotten a much leaner film. But Michael Bay has to crowbar soldiers in there somehow!
But the worst part of the movie is, I think, the characters. Michael Bay seems to write three kinds of characters:
Noble and perfect soldiers.
Hot girls who are really smart so objectifying them (“Criminals are HOT!”) isn’t creepy.
Violently annoying idiots who do stupid stuff in order to be funny.
Those are the only kinds of characters in these movies. And that last category accounts for 95% of the characters, including almost all of the giant alien robots. Optimus Prime is presented as a wise and noble leader here, for instance, but he consistently bumbles through just about every situation – when visiting Sam’s house, he and the other Autobots stumble around causing as much damage and being as noticeable as possible. Because funny.
But the human characters are the worst perpetrators – entirely for the LOLZ, many of them run around jabbering and screaming, stuffing their faces with food and making annoying sex jokes. Shia Labeouf’s Sam is perhaps the most obvious example, since his yammering and shouting is front and center, but his parents are the most obnoxious examples. These are characters specifically made to be funny in their stupidity, but instead they feel like a cheese grater on my nerves. John Turturro’s character isn’t much better; he exists to be peed on by Bumblebee and lech on underage girls.
The best thing I can say about Transformers is that if you switch your brain off… all the way off… you might enjoy the explosions and sexy women. Might. A very big might. But if that isn’t enough to justify over two hours of movie, then this film will be Chinese water torture.
I am presently watching Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, the second of Michael Bay’s unspeakably bad Transformers movies. It has taken me a week and a half to drag myself through even part of its two and a half hours, and I haven’t even gotten to the wrecking balls scene. Yes, the infamous scene that is considered one of the worst scenes in the history of mainstream film.
And honestly, one thing that these movies should never be is boring. They have giant robot fights, explosions, constant talking and action… but it feels like it drags on forever. I have watched all the Peter Jackson Middle-Earth movies, and every single one of them felt shorter than both of the Transformers movies I have watched, even though I’m pretty sure they’re all substantially longer.
And I think the reason for this is simple: I hate all the characters.
Michael Bay seems to write three kinds of characters:
Soldiers.
Hot girls who are really smart so objectifying them isn’t creepy.
Violently annoying idiots who do stupid stuff in order to be funny.
Those are the only kinds of characters in these movies, I swear. And that last category accounts for 95% of the characters, including almost all of the giant alien robots.
I think I realized this when the Autobots first revealed themselves to Sam Witwicky, and they started saying stupid things for the LOLZ. For instance, Ratchet just randomly announces that Sam wants to have sex with Mikaela. He has no reason to do this. It’s incredibly cringy and stupid. He simply says this stupid statement because… it’s meant to be funny.
And unfortunately, this is not an isolated incident. Once Sam goes home to find his glasses, Optimus Prime and all the Autobots come over to his house while his parents are sleeping. Now, Optimus could have ordered the Autobots to remain in the street outside in their vehicle forms, waiting for Sam to uncover the glasses and bring them out to them. That would be the kind of intelligent decision that you would expect from the wise, calm leader of the Autobots.
But that wouldn’t have provided several minutes of irritating comic relief! So instead the Autobots remain in their giant-robot forms, bumbling around causing property damage, making noise, and Optimus jams his enormous face up against the windows just so he can nag Sam a little more effectively. This does not make Sam find the glasses any faster, by the way – it actually slows him down considerably, because he has to stop to tell Optimus to stop doing what he’s doing. Because it’s funny when Optimus acts like a doofus!
And of course, almost all the human characters are annoying comic relief – the biggest perpetrators, of course, being Sam’s parents. I wanted to shrivel up in the second movie when Sam’s mother eats pot brownies and, like all stoned people, becomes hyperactive and loud, and starts yammering about him losing his virginity to total strangers. Because haha funny.
And I swear, it feels like every character is like this.
I’d be okay with the characters doing funny things if it were like the comic relief in the Marvel movies. At least nine times out of ten – excluding the Fat Thor gags in Endgame – the jokes are in-character and do not involve the characters doing stupid things in order to produce the joke. Robert Downey Jr.’s Tony Stark was absolutely hilarious, and he didn’t need to constantly do stupid things that make no sense in order to entertain us.
But in Transformers, it isn’t like those. Most of the jokes require people to be stupid and act like morons. And if it doesn’t amuse you to watch people running around screaming…
… or stuffing their faces with doughnuts…
… or jabbering at each other…
… or making juvenile sex jokes…
… or farting…
… or humping…
… or leching on underage girls…
… you’re going to sit there like a stone, getting progressively more irritable as this seemingly endless parade of annoying idiots are flung in your face. Some of these characters literally have no personality aside from their stupidity – I can identify exactly one thing that Ratchet did in Transformers aside from make that stupid sex joke. And that’s not just because I have trouble identifying anybody aside from Bumblebee and Optimus Prime.
And apparently this type of writing is contagious if you want to copy Michael Bay. It is an integral part of his storytelling, it seems. Years ago, I saw the movie Battleship (and have been regretting it ever since), which followed the Michael Bay formula so closely that many people thought it should have been a Transformers movie. What stuck out at me was that except for the Japanese commander and the veterans (only two of whom speak), I loathed every person in the movie. They weren’t constantly doing idiotic things for comic relief, but they were so obnoxious. The main character could not have been less endearing if he had worn a necklace of baby heads and a dead puppy for a hat.
Anyway, the too-long-didn’t-read edition of this rant is simple: the Transformers characters are as likable as scabies, and as funny as a wildfire. If, as I do, you find them to not be amusing, then these movies will be absolute torture.
Just a warning: “The Nutcracker and the Four Realms” does not have the Nutcracker in it.
Oh, there’s a character who is described as A nutcracker, but THE Nutcracker is conspicuously absent from this story. In fact, nothing but a handful of names and some music can be found from E.T.A. Hoffman’s novella and Tchaikovsky’s ballet — instead Disney has concocted their own candy-coated, cliche-riddled, superficially-sentimental fantasy tale with all the depth of a pretty Christmas card.
Clara (Mackenzie Foy) receives an early Christmas present from her recently-deceased mother: an ornate egg-shaped box, with no key to open it. She brings this odd problem to her godfather Drosselmeyer (a fairly disinterested Morgan Freeman) at a Christmas party that night, and then follows a golden ribbon through the house to Narnia. Oops, sorry, she ends up in the Realm of Snowflakes, another perpetually wintry place where time passes much faster than on Earth.
She soon finds the key she’s looking for (yes, it was just that easy), only to have it stolen by a mouse. And if you’re hoping for the Mouse King, prepare to be disappointed — this mouse is one of the servants of Mother Ginger (Helen Mirren), the reviled ruler of one of the Four Realms that make up this world. Take a shot every time someone says “realm,” and you’ll be dead of alcohol poisoning by the halfway point of the movie.
Clara is welcomed as a princess by the people of the other three realms, since her late mother was their beloved queen. But she soon discovers that the MacGuffin key is not only necessary to open her egg, but turn on a magical machine that turns toys into living creatures. To get it back, she will have to venture into the Fourth Realm — and discover that not all is as it seems.
In a lot of ways, “The Nutcracker and the Four Realms” is a more extreme version of the live-action “Alice in Wonderland” movies. Disney clearly wanted to tell their own story — a wannabe-epic-fantasy with lots of CGI and a bland heroine everybody hails as a savior — but instead of just doing that, they tacked the skin of a recognizable property over their own work. And yet, somehow it wouldn’t be so obnoxious if the movie were any good.
Admittedly the sets, costumes and scenery are very pretty and elaborate, full of bright, slightly artificial colors that befit the toylike nature of the Realms. And some of the sets and CGI are quite effective, such as a little troupe of grotesque clowns in the Fourth Realm, or the giant mass of writhing mice that rise up and swamp those they attack.
But under that is a thick stew of predictable plot developments and stale cliches, right down to the nauseatingly trite lessons that are hamfistedly crammed down our throats. A certain scene involving a mirror is likely to produce more eyerolls than inspiration.
Foy gives a profoundly uninspired performance here, but to be fair, her character is profoundly uninspired. Clara is a Generic Strong Female Character as imagined by Disney — we’re assured that she’s ahead of her time (she can awkwardly recite Newtonian laws!) and has no real flaws, which only means that she feels like a hollow shell. Writer Ashleigh Powell tries to give her some kind of emotional arc involving her grieving father, but it just sort of sputters to an end rather than truly being resolved.
As for the other actors, they might as well be paper dolls. Both Helen Mirren and Morgan Freeman are utterly wasted in their relatively brief roles. Jayden Fowora-Knight does as good a job as he can in his thin character. And Keira Knightley gives an… interesting performance as the Sugarplum Fairy. She’s all flittery energy, uniform fetish and sugary baby-voice, but her character’s motivation is perhaps the most forced and thin of all — she reacts the way she does not because of any developed characterization, but because the plot demands she do so.
Anyone hoping for a Nutcracker movie about the Nutcracker… would be better off watching a DVD of the ballet.“The Nutcracker and the Four Realms” is not only a bad adaptation, but just a bad fantasy story.
If Twin Peaks had been dreamed up by a ten-year-old on a massive sugar high, the result might be something like “Gravity Falls.”
And though this series lasted only a couple of seasons – both taking place in a single summer – it’s arguably one of the cleverest and most brilliant cartoon series ever to snare the imaginations of kids and adults alike. The weird occurrences are colorful and bizarre (“Onward, Aoshima!”), the characters are completely endearing, and the writing is tight as it winds together one-off strangenesses with some ongoing stories of mystery, magic and world-eating weird.
Twelve-year-old Dipper and Mabel Pines are spending the summer with their Grunkle Stan, an elderly con-man who runs the Mystery Shack, a ramshackle museum of bizarre, mostly fake items. However, Dipper is kind of worried about staying in Gravity Falls (his mosquito bites spell out BEWARB), until he finds finds a journal that reveals the many secrets of the town, but warns “in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust.”
Also, Mabel meets a strange, extremely-pale boy. She hopes he’s a Twilight-style vampire, but Dipper is afraid he’s a zombie. The truth… is a lot stranger than either theory.
This is only the beginning of the twins’ strange adventures – they face the legendary Gobblewonker, vengeful ghosts, a psychotic fake-psychic named Li’l Gideon, the secret fraud of the town’s founder, a time machine that Dipper tries to use to impress his crush, magical size-changing crystals, the Summerween Trickster, a boy band, a pterodactyl, a mini-golf course occupied by strange little creatures, Soos’ love life woes, a secret society that suppresses news of the supernatural, the Time Baby, alien tech, and many other crazy things.
And through these strange adventures, Dipper tries to uncover the mystery of who created the mysterious journal, and what happened to him – and discovers that it may be tied to Grunkle Stan in some way. He and Mabel also run afoul of a mischievous, devious creature (think a living Illuminati symbol) named Bill Cipher, who has plans for Gravity Falls that the twins must stop.
“Gravity Falls” is proof that just because a TV show is aimed at children, it doesn’t have to be stupid — codes and ciphers speckle the story, some of the stories can be horrifying or bittersweet, and it was obvious that series creator Alex Hirsch had mapped out complicated subplots and to-be-solved-mysteries from the very first episode onward. Pay close attention to everything as it unfolds, including the end credits of each episode.
Part of it is that the writing is really, really tight, with dialogue that is gloriously quotable (“I made this sculpture with my own two hands! It’s covered in my blood, sweat, tears, and other fluids!”) and a dry sense of humor that riddles almost every scene. Hirsch also has a talent for the bizarre, creating everything from hypermasculine minotaurs to a hallucination of a muscular-armed dolphin that spews rainbows from its many mouths. Nothing seems to be off-limits.
The characters are also delightful, endearing even when they aren’t admirable (“This seems like the kind of thing a responsible parent wouldn’t want you doing. Good thing I’m an uncle!”). Dipper is nervy and awkward, but also determined and dogged, while Mabel is a ball of sparkly whimsy and delight (“Are we in JAPAN?”). Also, she has a grappling hook and is perpetually on the hunt for a summer romance.
There’s also crusty old con-man Grunkle Stan, who is more than he seems to be; the endearingly hamster-like handyman Soos, who is more than a little strange himself (“Alas, twas naught but a dream”); and a colorful array of characters like Mabel’s friends, the crazed hillbilly Old Man McGucket, the Time Baby, a pair of government agents, and the nasty Li’l Gideon.
“Gravity Falls: The Complete Series” is a must-have for those who enjoy puzzles, clever writing, or just cartoon shows that might be even more delightful for adults than for their target audience. Onward, Aoshima!
The Batman/Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles miniseries is one of my favorite comic books of all time, so you can imagine how loudly I yelled when news of an animated adaptation hit the Internet.
And though it deviates from the comics in some substantial ways (for instance, the idea of Batman and the Turtles coming from different dimensions is completely dispensed with), Batman vs. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is a prime example of a fun romp. It’s heavy on memorable fight scenes, colorful transformations, and some gentle ribbing on both the franchises, and a great crossover that allows both Batman and the Turtles to shine in equal measure. Just don’t expect the “versus” to last very long.
When an experimental generator is stolen, Batgirl (Rachel Bloom) has a very strange account of events – how enemy ninjas invaded the laboratory, and fought four “lizard-men.” Batman (Troy Baker) vows to stop them from stealing more equipment, and soon discovers that the enemy ninjas are led by the masked, bladed Shredder (Andrew Kishino). He also encounters four mutant Turtles who are attempting to stop Shredder, brothers Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo (Eric Bauza, Darren Criss, Baron Vaughn and Kyle Mooney). And after some initial misunderstandings, the two families join forces.
And thanks to Robin (Ben Giroux), they soon get a picture of what Shredder is planning to do – he’s joined forces with the malevolent Ra’s al Ghul, and is building a machine that could potentially mutate all of Gotham. But first, they’re going to mutate the residents of Arkham Asylum, unleashing a terrifying band of mutants who might just be able to take down Batman and the Turtles. And even if the heroes survive the encounter, they still have two armies of evil ninja waiting to cause mass mayhem.
There isn’t a lot of actual “versus” in Batman vs. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (they get over their antagonism pretty fast), but this little crossover knows why you’re here – to see Batman hang out with everybody’s favorite mutant reptiles, combining the dark brooding seriousness of Gotham with the lighter but still action-packed Turtle aesthetic. Batman’s world brings some darkness to the Turtles (mutated Harley Quinn is strangely nightmarish), while the Turtles bring some fun to Batman (Michelangelo dressing up in Batman’s cowl and riding his T-Rex).
And, of course, to see awesome fight scenes such as Shredder going toe-to-toe with Batman, which is a fight that you probably never knew you needed desperately to see. In fact, the movie is packed with such action – dodging Mr. Freeze’s blasts of ice, a frenzied vehicular battle against the Foot Clan, attacks from mutated ninja, and of course some nasty battles in Arkham. They’re not bloodless either – we get shuriken in the head, broken teeth, and quite a few people are killed in rather messy ways, ranging from arrows to explosions.
And of course, the movie seems very aware of how awesome this team-up is, and never hesitates to trot out the stuff that will make your inner eight-year-old cheer (the long chase involving the Turtle Van and a certain giant mutant). Perhaps the biggest stumble is the decision to have Batman and the Turtles as natives of the same universe, rather than from parallel Earths – it’s hard to believe that people in the far-off land of New York would think that Batman, one of the greatest superheroes of all time and a well-documented presence, is just an urban legend.
The voice acting is pretty strong here, especially for Batman, the Turtles, Ra’s al Ghul and Robin. The characters are also given a fair amount of fleshing out, considering the action-heavy storyline. They’re all familiar forms of the characters we know and love (Raphael is a rebel who clashes with Leonardo over how to treat bad guys, Batman is a brooding loner, Michelangelo is the fun-loving one who squees over cool stuff), but we have some nice moments such as Leonardo struggling through a nightmare of his brothers’ gruesome deaths, and his feelings of guilt.
For anyone familiar with either franchise – or both, preferably – Batman vs. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is a fun rollercoaster ride of mildly bloody action, awesome battles, and the best crossover team-up that every geek has ever wanted to see. It has a few adaptational flaws, but taken on its own merits, it’s a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.
When a comic book series runs for a hundred issues — plus a lot of accompanying miniseries, side-series and specials — you can expect there to be a number of plot threads that need to be tied up.
And some of those plot threads are wrapped up — or at least twisted in a new direction — in “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Macro-Series,” which provides individual adventures for each of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. And like the Turtles themselves, the stories provide plenty of variety — the artwork ranges from rough-hewn to exquisitely atmospheric, and the tales dip into everything from family drama to bloody angsty action.
In Donatello’s tale, the genius Turtle reconnects with his ex-friend Harold Lilja, over a new project. Donnie wants to create a device that can effectively predict the future, allowing him to keep his brothers and friends from suffering. But his work attracts the attention of someone far more dangerous than Harold: Metalhead, his robotic doppelgänger, who has his own reasons for seeing the project come to fruition. But can Donatello trust him?
In Michelangelo’s story, the Turtles have brought a number of orphaned children to the Foot Clan, hoping that Splinter will take them in. He agrees — on the condition that they are trained as the next generation of Foot ninja. While his brothers reluctantly agree, a horrified Michelangelo can’t accept this situation, and openly rebels against his father in order to save the children.
In Leonardo’s tale, the Turtles are spending some quiet time in the countryside at April’s family farm, trying to manage astral travel. A troubled Leo goes on a walk in the woods to be alone with his thoughts, only to run into an old enemy — Koya the hawk mutant, who still wants to kill him for crippling her wings. But his fight with Koya takes an unexpected turn, and the Turtle brothers encounter an old enemy who might become a valuable ally.
And finally, Raphael takes a solitary walk after some roughhousing with Casey, only to be captured by Agent Bishop and the Earth Protection Force. For any mutant unlucky enough to be caught, that’s a death sentence. In danger of being murdered and dissected, Raphael must harness all the rage and pain of two lifetimes to escape his enemies — as well as the grief he still feels over the loss of his very first friend.
“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Macro-Series” takes the opportunity to further some subplots in the series (Harold Lillja, Metalhead, Koya, Mikey’s strained relationship with the increasingly cruel Splinter) while also laying out groundwork for future storylines (Raphael’s torment at Bishop’s hands, forming a tenuous alliance with a former foe). Basically, anyone who follows the IDW comic books — and why wouldn’t you? — will see its many intertwined subplots leaping forward.
It also is a very emotionally charged collection. The Donatello issue is perhaps the weakest simply because it has less of that raw emotion that suffuses the others, though Donatello’s loneliness without normal friends is palpable. Raphael’s story is a raw ball of pain, blood and sorrow, including the wrenching sight of his hysterical, confused panic when he first mutated. Mikey’s story is taut with simmering anger and a fierce protectiveness. And Leo’s is more subdued, but it reflects both his troubled spirit and his deep love for his brothers.
It also has some very good art here. Brahm Revel’s rough-hewn, sketchy artwork takes some getting used to, but he does do a good job conveying emotions and Metalhead’s form. Michael Dialynas’s art has a lot of splashes of color and expressive faces, and Ben Bishop’s style is grounded, stocky and splattered with blood and broken glass. And Sophie Campbell’s art is absolutely divine — I particularly loved the montage of the Turtles spending time with one another at the farm, at peace and happy.
For those who are lucky enough to read the IDW Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series, “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Macro Series” is a must read, both for the stories and for the chance to catch up with our favorite anthropomorphic turtles.
The Forest 