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Thursday, May 6, 2021
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com ARTS
Super strength. Lightning speed.
Telepathy. These are just a few of the
superpowers the heroes of Netflix’s
new series “Jupiter’s Legacy” unleash
on their enemies. But after a century
of putting criminals behind bars,
these superheroes’ efforts to restore
justice
have
become
increasingly
controversial.
The series is based on Mark
Millar’s comic of the same name.
The Millarworld production focuses
on the lives of those working for the
Union, a group of superheroes who
achieved their powers during the Great
Depression of the 1930s. Ever since,
they have been led by The Utopian
(Josh
Duhamel,
“Safe
Haven”),
husband to Lady Liberty (Leslie Bibb,
“The Lost Husband”) and father of
two
young
heroes.
Unfortunately,
the standards he sets for his children
are practically impossible to reach,
creating a complicated and toxic family
dynamic.
Times have changed, though, and
the corruption of the 21st century far
surpasses that of previous decades.
As society changes, the original code
set by The Utopian — to never kill —
is being called into question by both
civilians and Union members alike.
With a new generation of heroes and
a different set of problems, the values
once upheld are becoming outdated.
And so, even when the superhero suits
come off and the crime-fighting ceases
for the day, the drama continues.
At
a
recent
roundtable
with
members of the cast, Andrew Horton,
who plays The Utopian’s son, Brandon
Sampson, noted that the show differs
from other superhero stories. He
stated that, unlike Marvel and DC
productions, “Jupiter’s Legacy” is more
of a “human story … it’s almost more
of a drama than a superhero, action-
packed show.” This is because the
plot doesn’t just consist of repetitive
fight scenes between good guys and
bad guys. Rather, it focuses on the
underlying character relationships: a
mother and daughter; a father and son;
a sister and brother. In fact, it’s with
the exploration of these dynamics that
Millar’s comic series combats this idea
of good versus evil altogether.
Matt Lanter (“90210”), who plays
villain George Hutch, discussed this
aspect of the show. Specifically, he
spoke about the misconception that the
world is either black or white, moral or
immoral, which occurs throughout the
show and creates many rifts amongst
the characters. Yet, as Lanter stated
and the show aims to prove, “there’re
shades of grey everywhere,” and that
underneath the masks and without the
capes, these superheroes are humans
living in an imperfect world.
“Jupiter’s Legacy” is not like the
average Superman or Batman movie.
This doesn’t mean it lacks the action and
entertainment these other productions
provide audiences with; there is just
a greater reflection on real-life issues.
Horton spoke about how this factor of
the show made it that much easier for
him to relate to a character that he is, in
actuality, very different from. He stated
that he “couldn’t necessarily connect
with super speed, super strength, and
the ability to fly, but coming back to
the human characteristics is what
makes the show so interesting … so
much more than your run-of-the-mill
superhero show.” This sentiment was
echoed by other members of the cast.
One paragraph into P. Djèlí
Clark’s “A Master of Djinn,”
the
chronically
truant
self-
preservation muscle in my brain
jerked to life and hit pause. The
novel is too well crafted, too
interesting, too readable. It’s a
magical detective story set in
pre-World War I Cairo narrated
by no-nonsense special agent
Fatma
el-Sha’arawi
and
her
plucky,
paperwork-loving,
hijab-wearing
junior,
Hadia
Abdel Hafez. It is set in the
same world as other books
from the same author but is
a
stand-alone
story.
From
its
base
components
alone,
mathematically
speaking,
“A Master of Djinn” almost
overwhelmed me (and my exam
study schedule).
Once started, “A Master of
Djinn” is a fast read. Clark
creates a compelling fantasy
setting full of representation.
Despite
being
marketed
as
steampunk,
the
novel
is
a
detective, police procedural at
its core. When twenty members
of a secret society are brutally
murdered, special agent Fatma
and her new partner Hadia are
tasked with locating the killer.
Together, they unravel a larger
magical
plot
within
their
Egyptian home city.
Set before WWI, the novel
imagines
a
world
before
American
hegemony
and
nuclear
power.
In
Fatma’s
metropolitan Cairo, the local
zeitgeist is one of possibility,
with
energy
wild
and
unpredictable. The world is less
surveilled, less formed at the
turn of the century. But Clark
does not settle for easy first
impressions of a halcyon past.
Considering the many social
identities
of
the
characters,
the novel would be incomplete
without
a
consideration
of
power
structures
and
imperialism.
Clark
mindfully
engages with the past, forcing
his characters to move through
a world recognizable in its
colonialism,
colorism
and
religion. Fatma’s friend Benny,
a
Jim
Crow-era
American
ex-pat,
helps
contextualize
and ground Clark’s expansive
world.
Perhaps,
instead
of
the
Djinns
and
Priestesses,
the
most
fantastical
aspect
of Clark’s novel is its ability
to recall a tantalizingly vast,
flawed and cautiously hopeful
world.
“A Master of Djinn” is an
amazingly
consistent
read.
Clark is a competent storyteller
and a master of unobtrusive
style.
While
the
ultimate
mystery is not hard to puzzle
out
three-quarters
in,
the
characters are vibrant and the
plot is sound. Some writers have
stylistic ticks that require more
deliberate
reading;
fantasy
writers, in particular, have an
unfortunate tendency to “info-
dump,”
front-loading
their
worldbuilding and characters.
Most fantasy classics require
some measure of indelicate,
brute mental force to break into
the center of the novel. Clark
breaks that mold, presenting
a digestible and compelling
fantasy landscape. His writing
exemplifies how such a novel
should be paced, most notably
in
how
he
distributes
and
buffers
the
customary
info-
dump hurdles.
Clark introduces the main
character,
Fatma,
over
the
course
of
one
chapter.
It’s
with a deft, careful hand that
Clark contours and colors this
LGBTQ+,
suit-wearing,
cane-
sword-wielding,
overworked
government
agent.
Clark
approaches
each
character
with
care,
depicting
them
as
dynamic,
multifaceted
characters that are informed,
rather than defined by their
social
identities.
They
feel
authentic. Clark is cheeky with
his characters. Fatma’s junior
agent endearingly sports a fun,
modern bright blue headscarf
as a display of her progressive
values.
Because the novel follows
the
detective-novel,
CSI-
esque
structure,
one
might
misread it as an entertaining
but
run-of-the-mill
iteration
— not quite radical but also
not
derivative.
However,
Clark’s
characterizations
and
attention to detail positions “A
Master of Djinn” solidly above
its contemporaries. The only
downfall of his attention to
character and storytelling is
how unsustainable producing
ten more similar novels would
be. Ideally, there would be
as many “A Master of Djinn”
entries as there are “Dresden
Files” novels. Alas, the rich
world
and
characters
leave
room only for a sequel or so.
Clark’s
novel
is
a
prime
fantasy book complete with
a
unique
comprehension
of
identity
and
personhood.
While reading “A Master of
Djinn,”
time
flows
eagerly
past,
weaving
through
bustling,
magical
Cairo
streets. The novel’s concept is
uncomplicated
and
naturally
integrates
Arabic
mythology
with
historical,
fantasy
settings.
Clark’s
dynamic
characters
and
consideration
of historical power imbalances,
class and racism are a balm to
the tired fantasy reader.
Cast members on new
series ‘Jupiter Legacy’
‘A Master of Djinn’ Combines Cairo, Magic
and CSI
MOLLY HIRSCH
Daily Arts Writer
ELIZABETH YOON
Daily Books Beat Editor
Read more at michigandaily.com
Courtesy of Julian Wray
Netflix