2-BSide
4B —Thursday, January 18, 2018
b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
‘Your Black Friend’ takes
on millenial woke racism
You could easily mistake
Ben Passmore’s “Your Black
Friend” for a light read; after
all, it is only 11 pages long.
However,
through
skilled
artistry and strong language,
the mini-comic is as poignant
and relevant as it is visually
pleasing. Its cover draws you in,
boasting
playful
pastels
and
bouncy
bubble
letters,
looking
more
like
a
middle schooler’s
doodle
than
an
open
letter
about racism and
Black alienation in America.
Its
characters
are
spot-on
caricatures of people you have
known or seen or been, depicted
with a balance of humor and
criticism.
“Your Black Friend” is a
brief yet intensely powerful
testament
to
what
racism
looks
like
among
“woke”
millennials. In word and image,
Passmore creates a work that
is
simultaneously
personal
and collective, encompassing
his own experiences while
capturing the experiences of
others.
Written
entirely
in
the second person, Passmore
actively engages in a critical
and much-needed conversation
about race in today’s America.
The
comic
involves
the
reader in an unconventional
way, pointing to them as it
begs and pleads that you,
and only you, recognize the
pervasiveness of racism in our
culture. Passmore’s narrator
grapples between two poles
of racialization, one being not
Black enough for his Black
friends and the other being
too Black for his
white
friends.
He lives in racial
limbo, where his
own
existence
is measured and
metered by his
peers rather than
himself.
Passmore uses a distinct color
palette of soothing pastels of
blue, purple and pink. Even the
most troubling and gruesome
of scenes is inked with bright
and whimsical hues, washing
over the darkness and dread
of the comic’s content with a
paintbrush soaked in millennial
pink. Just as the comic washes
over the serious with a façade of
brightness, the façade of woke-
ness
masks
the
sometimes
unintentional
but
inherent
racism that lies beneath.
“Your Black Friend” attacks
the millennial post-racial myth
head-on with tact and humor.
Like Jordan Peele’s (“Key and
Peele”) terrifyingly relevant
and
award-winning
social
thriller “Get Out,” Passmore’s
comic
confronts
the
self-
serving nature of white guilt,
turning alliance into a selfish
and preoccupied excuse for
sympathy. Passmore addresses
the performance of linguistic
“blackface” among his white
friends. He explores the desire
to try on “Blackness” like
a costume, a hipster in full
minstrel guise in a desperate
attempt
to
reconcile
white
privilege in a country built on
racism. Passmore manages to
capture a similar feeling of
alienation and fear without
directly evoking the horror
tone of Peele’s masterpiece.
Passmore
effectively
uses the comics medium to
communicate his message and
personal experiences. He fills
the small comic to the brim
with jarring colors, expertly
formatting
the
pages
with
text and images that inform
and complement one another.
Passmore’s use of arrows and
comments
throughout
make
the comic feel more organic,
as if the author is allowing a
snapshot into his own diary.
From run-ins with the cops to
eating a po-boy at a coffee shop,
Passmore walks the reader
through the 21st-century Black
experience in a 21st-century
white world.
BECKY PORTMAN
Senior Arts Editor
B-SIDE SECONDARY
Paramount Pictures
Marvel movies subvert
the superhero narrative
The Marvel movie franchise
has a bad reputation for being
associated with movies that are
essentially overpriced, overdone
blockbuster fodder. It’s imagined
to be loved exclusively by stringy
comic book nerds and those of
“low-brow culture.” With the
tedium of each new Marvel
movie hitting the big screen like
clockwork, it’s easy for people to
disregard the franchise with a
cavalier “Eh, those movies don’t
really appeal to me.” But what
most people fail to realize is that
the
Marvel
movie
franchise,
dubbed the Marvel Cinematic
Universe, is a highly complex,
endlessly fascinating, extremely
impressive
and
revolutionary
feat of moviemaking that defies
cinematic structure and explores
deeply resonant societal themes.
While
superhero
films,
or
adaptations
of
comic
book
characters, have been around since
the 1930s, the Marvel Cinematic
Universe, or MCU, is radically
different than anything that has
come before in film. Structurally,
the MCU is designed as a web with
an intricate interweaving of origin
stories, sequels and ensemble
films that introduce and feature
different players throughout the
expansive network of films. This
unorthodox structure gives the
franchise a puzzle-finding feel
that challenges viewers to search
for and spot different heroes in
different movies. Like pieces on a
larger gameboard, the MCU works
as a massive universe in which the
characters exist, with each movie
exploring a different part of that
universe. While all this seems
chaotic and slippery, the franchise
is actually meticulously planned.
The MCU timeline is easily
accessible online, where the details
for a four-phase cinematic opera
are laid out. The sheer breadth of
planning — starting with “Iron
Man” in 2008 and continuing with
untitled films set to release as late
as 2028 — demonstrates franchise
construction on a completely new
scale. And while characters and
emotional nuance can easily get
lost in the haze of an entity that
large, the MCU stays grounded
with
clear
development
and
emotional arcs.
What makes Marvel so brilliant
is that in the midst of juggling a
massive ensemble of different
characters,
backstories
and
motivations, the franchise is able
to craft distinct personalities for
each character and weave them
all together. Instead of being one-
dimensional, each hero is shaded
with nuance. Iron Man isn’t just
cocky and impulsive but is rather
a detail-obsessed genius with a
confused moral compass whose
narcissism is bred from daddy
issues. In its ensemble films,
sharply written dialogue works to
seamlessly blend each character’s
personality so that they both stand
out and blend in.
The MCU is an unprecedented
beast of a movie franchise, with
structural and story elements that
keep viewers locked in, waiting
for the next piece of the puzzle.
While the MCU is a revolutionary
media entity among franchises in
general, it’s also remarkable within
the genre of superhero narratives.
The MCU is not merely a large
collection of traditional hero vs.
villain, good vs. evil storylines.
Marvel examines and challenges
heroism, morality and fantasy in
ways that are unparalleled in texts
of the superhero genre.
Superhero narratives, rooted in
comic books, are defined by a few
classic tropes. Of course, there
is the hero, a morally righteous
protagonist committed to the
fight against an equally insidious
villain. There is a clear binary
between good and evil, and
these moralities are uncontested.
Superhero movies are heavily
laden with action, dynamic fight
scenes, big explosions and chaos
in the name of justice. They exist
clearly in the realm of fantasy: The
hero possesses a heightened ability
that sets him or her apart from the
masses and can wield this power
freely. These tropes are integral
to the superhero narrative, and
they serve to create distance from
reality. Superhero films generally
reflect the thematic tradition of
comic books, mirroring the moral
binaries of comic book heroes.
Destruction plays an interesting
and integral role in superhero
films. While it may seem obvious
to think about, every hero fight
inevitably involves destruction.
Superhero films in the mid-2000s
used relatively old-school effects
to blow up a building or a city
block, adding visually compelling
elements to a climactic fight
scene. In “Batman Begins” (2005),
Batman
destroys
a
monorail
line while the train drives into a
parking structure and explodes.
In “The Dark Knight” (2008), the
Joker detonates a string of bombs
that blow up an entire hospital.
Destruction is understood as a
natural and entertaining part
of the genre that heightens the
actions and suspense of the scene.
Advancements in CGI special
effects allowed for more complex
and dynamic fight scenes moving
into the 2010s. Bigger explosions
and more precise detail meant new
possibilities for mass destruction
on a completely different scale.
Magneto in “X-Men: Days of
Future Past” (2014) lifts an entire
baseball stadium and floats it
around before sending it crashing
into the cityscape below. In
“X-Men Apocalypse” (2016), the
X-Men raze the entire city of Cairo
to the ground, leaving it completely
decimated. What’s interesting is
that in every superhero film there
are no discussions about the loss of
life, infrastructural consequences
or acknowledgment of any kind of
damage and chaos following the
battle. And with contemporary
superhero movies playing out on
an international or intergalactic
scale, the lack of acknowledgment
of destruction becomes more
apparent and more fantastical.
Here is where the Avengers
franchise
completely
revolutionizes
the
superhero
genre. With its meticulous buildup
of films and phases, Marvel
initially reflects the tropes of
its genre, only to then deliver a
climactic movie that challenges
thematic taboos routinely left out
of the narrative. There are three
pivotal battles in the franchise
that all involve massive amounts
of destruction: in “The Avengers”
(2012), the team fights Loki and
his alien-insect army, destroying
large chunks of Manhattan in the
process; In “Captain America:
The
Winter
Soldier”
(2014),
Captain America and Falcon send
government
airships
crashing
into Washington D.C.; and in “The
Avengers: Age of Ultron” (2015),
the Avengers fight Ultron while he
lifts the entire city of Sokovia off
the ground. These three films in
the Avengers narrative arc involve
crucial moments of character
development,
shifting
team
dynamics, introduction of new
characters and the evolution of
villains. But in “Captain America:
Civil War” (2016), these moments
become the fulcrum upon which
the progression of the narrative
balances.
“Captain America: Civil War”
is responsible for bursting the
bubble of fantasy in the superhero
narrative. At the start of the movie,
Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.,
“The Judge”) is confronted by a
grieving mother whose son died
in the battle at Sokovia. In this
moment, for the first time, a hero is
faced with the real and detrimental
consequences
of
his
actions
and the unintended but severe
consequences on human lives from
unrestrained
destruction.
The
tension between heroic action and
unheroic consequence becomes
the focus of the movie, and
Stark’s enormous guilt drives his
motivations for the rest of the film.
Soon after Stark’s crushing
epiphany,
the
Avengers
meet
with Secretary of State Thaddeus
Ross (William Hurt, “Goliath”).
Ross projects a video summary
of the Avengers’ major battles but
without the polished and self-
indulgent perspective of their
original play. Imagery of buildings
exploding, cars crashing, people
screaming and errant gunfire turn
previously exciting action scenes
into terrifying and traumatic
warzones. Watching the clips,
the Avengers all wear faces of
realization and shame. This scene
is crucial for so many reasons; It
shows a direct interaction between
heroes and government agencies
and introduces a new perspective
on the Avengers, what it means to
be a hero and the consequences of
unrestrained power.
Ross makes clear that up until
now, the Avengers have “operated
with unlimited power and no
supervision.” He exchanges the
word hero with the word vigilante,
asking “what would you call a
group of U.S.-based, enhanced
individuals who routinely ignore
sovereign borders and inflict their
SYDNEY COHEN
Daily Arts Writer
will wherever they choose, and
who frankly seem unconcerned
about what they leave behind?”
In an effort to curb the power of
the Avengers, Ross introduces the
Sokovia Accords, a contract that if
signed would place the Avengers
under United Nations jurisdiction.
In order to impose a system of
accountability and place limits on
previously
unrestricted
power,
a U.N. panel would have control
over the team, deploying them
when the panel deems it necessary.
The document essentially strips
the Avengers of their agency, but
also curbs potential unforeseen
consequences.
The significance of this moment,
why it’s brilliant and unparalleled,
cannot be understated. Here we
see the first major integration of
world powers in a fantasy realm,
where the government has actual,
sizable influence. For the first time
in the superhero genre, we see an
effort to impose accountability
on superheroes who previously
wielded power without restraint,
or even the concept of restraint.
This move has only ever been seen
once before, in “The Incredibles”
(2004), when injured civilians took
superheroes to court, and a national
law forced them into hiding. This
is really the first instance of the
powers of ordinary society curbing
the powers of the extraordinary.
But “The Incredibles” fails to
take the tension between fantasy
and reality further and ends up
mostly concerned with the self-
actualization of heroes.
The question of whether or not to
sign the Sokovia Accords launches
the Avengers into the main
conflict of “Civil War” — a debate
of accountability vs. free will.
Tony Stark urges the team to sign
because he sees unaccountability
as the most dangerous threat to
the Avengers and the world, and
argues they can’t be allowed to
continue without restrains or
limits. Captain America, on the
other hand, rejects the Accords,
arguing that the contract places a
limit on free will, and emphasizes
his belief in everyone’s right to act
as a free agent.
With this debate, the MCU
tackles the morality of heroism
and explores the philosophies of
its heroes. Marvel demonstrates
that it is extremely self-aware of
the tropes of its genre, effectively
subverting them by questioning
and challenging what it means to
be a superhero. Marvel complicates
the binary between good and
evil by spotlighting death and
destruction at the hands of those
who are considered heroes. Marvel
also introduces the influence of
real-world consequences on the
actions and motivations of its
heroes. Because these elements
have never been approached in
this way or to this magnitude in
any superhero film before, Marvel
is essentially constructing a new
subgenre
of
superhero
films:
one that is preoccupied with the
convergence of the real and the
fantastical. The universal model
of the franchise allows much more
room for characters to interact and
develop, creating a deeper level of
familiarity between the characters
and their world that makes the
philosophical questions of “Civil
War” possible, meaningful and
believable.
There is also room for a deeper
analytical interpretation of “Civil
War” and the themes of the MCU.
Subverting notions of heroism and
moral absolutism is fascinating in
the context of the long tradition
of comic book heroes. But the
debate
between
accountability
and free will extends to more
prevalent ideas in society today.
The plot of “Civil War” can be
read as an allegory for the debate
between government surveillance
and privacy and the question
of surveillance as a necessary
protection against terrorism or an
infringement on civil rights. While
it is common practice for films to
reflect the societal themes of their
time, Marvel is noteworthy for
its simultaneous subversion of its
genre.
The
MCU
is
an
elegantly
intricate
and completely fascinating piece
of moviemaking that proves that
complex narratives can exist in a
blockbuster franchise. Marvel’s
deconstruction
and
subversion
of the superhero narrative are
wholly unprecedented in the genre
of comic book films and make
watching these movies thrilling
and deeply thought-provoking for
both casual viewers, cinephiles
and anyone in between.
20th Century Fox
COMIC BOOK REVIEW
“Your Black
Friend”
Published by the
Artist
2016
Ben Passmore’s comic explores Black alienation in America
The MCU is an
unprecedented
beast of a movie
franchise, with
structural and
story elements
that keep viewers
locked in
The MCU is an
elegantly intricate
and completely
fascinating piece
of moviemaking