If you are any sort of creative type- whether you like to sing, dance, sculpt, act, write incredibly good looking blog posts- you will find yourself facing criticism. By creating something, be it a physical piece of art, a performance, or whatever else, you will be putting something out there for other people to see and give their opinion on.
That can be an intimidating prospect, especially when you're creating or doing something you feel a close personal connection to. When I was writing my short story collection, I found myself much more reluctant to reach out for feedback than I had been for other short stories I had written in the past, and far more defensive in response to feedback that wasn't glowing praise. After all, these were the stories I felt a strong enough bond with to publish! If they weren't actually amazing, what did that say about me, as both a person and writer?
But at this point, I had also been a lot things before seriously trying my hand at writing. A martial artist, a stand up comedian, a college debater, an activist, and a fair number of other things. And what I learned through all these activities was a set of criteria for taking criticism that, while not perfect, have been instrumental for me as someone who likes to write, among other creative endeavors.
What is this criteria? First, a story.
Slick Rick is where I, along with all aspiring storytellers, actually get all of my advice from.
Recently, the 10th Planet Jiujitsu gym I used to train at was having a free rolling session at
the beach ("rolling" being the Jiujitsu equivalent of sparring, where
people test their skills against each other in a way meant to simulate
an actual match). The gym is pretty tight-nit, so I figured I'd go to
get some rolls in and catch up with some of the people there I am friends with.
As I rolled,
instructors and senior training partners who were watching would
periodically give me and/or the person I was rolling with
advice. "Keep your posture!" "Don't let him extend your
arm!" "Make sure you run your hand through his hair and whisper sweet
nothings into his ear!" Y'know, typical Jiujitsu stuff from experienced
practitioners who know what they're doing.
Since we were in
public, people would occasionally stop and watch us, which is totally
cool. But one guy who was watching us from afar decided watching wasn't
enough. He yelled "instructions" to people who were rolling- ranging
from basic, obvious stuff that they were already doing to stuff that was hilariously wrong- and referring constantly to his fighting prowess. He also referred to himself as "The Great White Shark" in the third person throughout the entire affair, which was more than a little weird.
My Google search for "SoCal bro douchebag" pulled up a picture of someone
with an uncanny resemblance to the Great White Shark.
Initially we laughed it off, but he
wouldn't stop talking, so we eventually extended a friendly invitation
to roll with us. At first he refused for the usual reasons ("nah, brah,
I don't wanna hurt you guys! When I go against someone I just see red and go berserk!"), but after a few more minutes one of our friendliest
members coaxed him into it. We let him choose who he wanted to go
against, and he of course chose the smallest person there.
When the two began their session, the Great White Shark (who from now on will be referred to as "GWS") started doing what looked like a terrible imitation of the Capoeira ginga. Our 10th Planet guy was unable to take GWS down because of his deadly wrestling prowess- oh wait, scratch that, he was unable to take GWS down because every single time our guy made any move at all, GWS ran away, then stepped in and did a shitty mock uppercut that would have a kickbox cardio instructor shaking their head in embarrassment. Sometimes he followed up his shitty mock uppercut with a comment like "if this were the streets, you'd be laid out right now!" Had I known we would be playing make believe, I would have brought a lot more glitter.
Eventually, our guy just started sitting down so that GWS could work his magic. Turns out, GWS's magic wasn't as deadly as he thought it was. If he was a tier one Blizzard spell, our guy was a double-cast Blizzaga. The Monster energy drinks he definitely has in large quantities at home have a far better chance of harming someone than he does.
After our guy made it pretty clear he would always get the dominant position on GWS, GWS decided he was done rolling. He did this by quickly standing up and boldly declaring "the Great White Shark is done here, I've taught you enough for today" and walking into the distance, ready to spread his gospel of lifted trucks and long black socks with khaki shorts to other beach goers ready to receive his wisdom.
I just cannot stress this enough: he literally referred to himself as "The Great White Shark" in the 3rd person.
Notice there were two sources of criticism people rolling received in that story, not just one. There were GWS's comments, but there was also the feedback those of us rolling got from instructors and senior students. They saw what we were doing and, drawing from their pool of knowledge and experience, told us what changes we should make in what we were doing. Textbook constructive criticism.
There are two types of criticism: helpful and unhelpful criticism. The problem, of course, is that not all criticisms fit neatly into one of these two categories. In the story of 10th Planet Oceanside and the Great White Shark, the two types of feedback fit these two pretty unambiguously, but not all criticism does. In reality, it's more of a spectrum between helpful and unhelpful criticism. How do we begin the tricky process of deciphering where along the spectrum to place the criticism we receive, then?
I've come up with three criteria that, together, I think answer that question about as well as it can be answered: expertise, intent, and subjectivity.
Expertise
Of the three criteria I came up with, this one is the most straight forward. In the story above, GWS had only a vague idea of what he was talking about. He probably watched some UFC at home and thought that made him an expert, the same way watching an NBA match means you could totally take that Lebron James fella in a pickup game if you really wanted to. On the other hand, the instructors and senior students giving me advice are far more proficient at Jiujitsu than I am, and therefore gave feedback with real know-how behind it.
Of course, with certain endeavors, especially artistic ones, "expertise" isn't really something you can go on. Sure, with a skill set where there is a tangible way to measure your progress, and where "progress" itself is something you can easily define, having experts give you feedback is a concept that makes sense. And, even with creative endeavors, there are certain techniques you can learn about from experts that will help your ability to create whatever you want to create.
But when someone reads your writing, or looks at your painting, or listens to your music, how can you determine "expertise" when they tell you how they respond to it? How can you rank someone's thoughts or feelings on something you've put out there?
"What's a polite way to tell him 'yes, I like your statement on the human condition,
but your piece could use more poop jokes'?"
That's where this next criterion comes into play.
Intent
Let's go back to the tale of the Great White Shark. This time, instead of framing it in terms of expertise, let's analyze the intent behind the feedback given by the instructors and senior students vs the "feedback" given by GWS.
The people from the Jiujitsu gym giving me and everyone else their feedback came from a place of them wanting us to get better as students. Partially because they want us to do well when we go to tournaments, partially because they are paid to, and partially because they like us as human beings, they gave us constructive criticism because they genuinely want us to get better as Jiujitsu practitioners.
Now, let's look at GWS. Spouting bullshit to strangers who practice something he clearly had no experience in means there was no honest intention to be helpful in the "advice" that he gave those of us that were rolling. Maybe it was for his ego, maybe it was for attention, maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, it was apparent that he was thinking more about himself than us.
Even outside the realm of talents and creative expression, examining intent can be helpful. Think of all the name calling you see in "debates" on the internet. One person (or group of people) starts getting the upper hand, and the other person (or people) starts going out of their way to call the person with the upper hand hypocritical, self-righteous, condescending, and whatever other negative things they can think of. They're not saying those things because they legitimately want to help you be a better person. They're saying those things because their ego is bruised from losing ground in a discussion, and they will therefore look to call you these things since they can no longer "win" if they keep to the topic at hand.
Now imagine if someone you cared about, and someone who in turn cares about you and wants you to be the best person you can be, came to you and said "hey, I love you, but me and the homies have been talking, and we think you've been a little condescending lately." You'd be hurt, obviously, because you want to view yourself as a good person. But if it was a true friend who said this, someone who truly cares about you and wants you to be the best person you can be, you'd at least consider what they have to says.
"Look, I love you. And I'm demanding more poop jokes because Icare."
And that's what it often comes down to. When someone makes these comments, ask yourself: what is their intent? Are they saying these things because they want to help you be better, or are they saying them because they want to tear you down, or make themselves look good, or some other sort of reason that has nothing to do with being constructive?
Yet, even when we've narrowed it down to comments with good intention behind their feedback, that doesn't always mean that feedback will work for you. Which brings me to my last criterion.
Subjectivity
Let's go back to my short story collection for a moment. I was lucky enough to have a group of about a dozen or so friends look at a few of the stories in my collection, as well as even more friends who each looked over one or two of my stories, and give me feedback. There were also two stories that I wrote in a creative writing class I took at UC Irvine (Via Verde and Sun Festival), and I got feedback on those from my teacher and other students from the class in addition to my friends.
Perhaps one of the most surprising things about all the feedback I got was how wildly different people's opinions and comments were, sometimes going in literal opposite directions. I did my best to listen to all of these comments in good faith because I knew these were comments from bright people who had good intentions behind everything, but at the same time, I literally couldn't follow through with all the feedback I had been given, even if I wanted to.
Pictured: the aggregate feedback I sometimes received.
To give an example, my story Sun Festival is about a man who one day finds himself immortal, and is already hundreds of years old by the beginning of the tale. During the story I made sure his dialogue occasionally dropped hints that reflected the fact he was profoundly aware of death and how finite life is. When I submitted this story to the class for review, there was almost a 50/50 divide among those who thought these particular lines of dialogue were brilliant and true to the character, and those who thought it was too on the nose or in some other way not very good.
When it was time in class to review that story, I watched someone say the dialogue needed to be redone, then another person in class- someone whom I barely knew- argue in favor of the dialogue as if she were defending a thesis.
Other times, you'll even get suggestions for improvement that go in opposite directions. For instance, when you write a short story, for literally every scene you have to decide whether you want to give a broad summary of events ("it was a long day at work. After work, [...]"), a play by play of the day ("I clocked in at 8:05. I walked to my desk and sat down, ready to start another day. I turned on the computer monitor, [...]"), or somewhere in between ("It was a long day at work. I arrived a few minutes late, and half an hour later I was already waiting anxiously for the day to be over. Then, two hours into my shift, [...]"). There were multiple times where I would have one person tell me a scene would be better if I went more in the direction of a play by play, and others saying I should just sum up the same scene instead.
"You should use less dialogue, but also have the characters talk more,
and have less characters, but also more characters, and.."
So, after you have narrowed down all the feedback you are taking seriously to feedback that comes from an informed source and/or has good intentions behind it, the trick is to then take the constructive criticism you have received and use which works for you. That can, of course, be tricky. Especially because you have to honestly ask yourself: am I not going with certain feedback because I don't think it works, or am I not going with it because I am being too defensive?
Going back to the Sun Festival feedback, I ended up leaving the aforementioned dialogue largely the same. But there was a section of the story I did make a big change to: the opening sequence where I describe his back story. I had kept it vague during my rough draft. Some people thought it worked, and some people thought I should get more specific. At first I wanted to keep the scene the way it is, and I could even come up with justifications for why I should do so (we as humans are great at coming up with justifications and self-rationalizations). But deep down, after reading the feedback from people who thought I should get more specific, I had to admit to myself that their reasons for getting into more detail were too strong to ignore. I ended up adding a lot more to that section, and am glad I did.
Now, of course, putting ego aside and figuring out which helpful criticisms will work for you is a tough process, and can sometimes be an ambiguous one. But, with a set of standards to narrow down which criticisms are and aren't helpful, that decision is at least made a little easier.
As we kick off 2015, many news outlets, columnists, and bloggers are creating lists looking back upon everything from 2014. From popular culture to politics to the arts, people are making tons of lists about a year that was, for better or worse, quite eventful.
Instead of making a list about my 10 favorite movies or the 10 most important photos from the year, I've decided to whip up a list that has a little bit of everything on it. A lot happens in a year, and I wanted to capture as much as I could in summing up the last twelve months. I chose topics ranging from MMA to politics to science, trying to choose who or what I considered to be most noteworthy in each category. As for criteria, I used a combination of merit, personal preference (anyone who tries to pretend their "top" lists are objective is lying), achievements in their field, and cultural significance/impact.
Movie: Birdman
After having planned to see this multiple times throughout the last quarter of 2014, I finally got around to seeing it shortly before the new year. During the time between hoping to see it and actually seeing it, my expectations had built up so much that part of me was afraid I would be let down. Everyone was raving about the movie, from critics to friends whose opinions on film I hold in high regard. Could it really live up to what everyone was saying?
Holy shit, yes. This movie has everything you could wanted: wit, dark humor, well rounded characters, great cinematography, and a lot of very human moments that you don't often see in a dark comedy. The cast does a great job in their roles, to the point where it's almost hard for me to choose a standout performance. Michael Keaton as the lead role does a great job as a middle aged actor trying to regain his thunder, which is important considering how closely this movie focuses on him. Among the rest of the excellent cast, Edward Norton and Emma Stone do especially well in their roles. Norton plays a man who takes acting very seriously, to the point where he is hardly his own person off the stage; Stone play's Keaton's daughter, a recovering addict who helps him with the production of his play. Both make their characters interesting and human, and throughout the film you'll feel like you are watching a film about actual people.
This also marks a dramatic change in style for Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu, whom I have talked about before. Though existential undertones still permeate the movie, the comedic tone replaces the somber one we usually see in his films. Birdman represents not only another great work under Gonzalez Iñárritu's belt, but an expansion of his horizons as a film maker. I have a feeling that in a couple decades and with a handful more movies to his name, Gonzalez Iñárritu will be a director we consider an all-time great.
Now if he can just make a sequel where Keaton's Birdman, Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law, and the rapper Birdman from Cash Money Records team up to save the world.
Animated Movie: Book of Life
Even without a Pixar movie gracing our screens, 2014 was a great year for animated films. The LEGO Movie, How to Train Your Dragon 2, and Big Hero 6 were all outstanding. At the end of the day, though, I had to go with The Book of Life.
Jorge Gutierrez's Dia de los Muertos themed movie is a beautifully animated film that, like many of his other films, is never lacking in the imagination department. Gorgeous visuals, an imaginative world, and well-voiced performances are all part of the package. That being said, the other animated movies I mentioned have those qualities, too. What made me go with The Book of Life is the fact that, more than any other family movie I've ever seen (except perhaps Up), it's a family movie unafraid to tackle the subject of death.
In most family-oriented movies, a character might die and everyone will be sad, but then they move on. The deceased character will continue to stay in the characters' thoughts throughout the movie, but the idea of death itself doesn't. For instance, in the Lion King, after Scar kills Mufasa, Simba grieves and then presses on. Obviously, his life is hugely affected by the absence of his father, and later on he encounters the spirit of his father, but death itself as a subject matter is still left untouched.
This film, however, confronts death head on. It does so by imagining an afterlife that is kind and inviting, as long as the deceased are still remembered by those left behind. This metaphor about the meaning of life being to create meaningful memories and bonds with others is cheesy, but is nonetheless a good one, especially for a children's movie. I appreciate that this movie is willing to tackle such a serious subject, and do so in a way that is fun and imaginative.
Actor: Chris Pratt
Not only was Christopher Pratt the second highest grossing actor of 2014, but he did so starring in two of the year's most entertaining movies, The LEGO Movie and Guardians of the Galaxy. Though two very different movies, they share one thing in common: no one expected them to be good. Everyone, myself included, thought The LEGO Movie was a shameless cash-grab in the same mold as Battleship, and we all collectively raised our eyebrows when Marvel Studios announced Guardians of the Galaxy would be their next film property. Luckily, our predictions were wrong, and both movies ended up being a lot of fun while creating a new Hollywood star: Chris Pratt.
What's impressive about Chris Pratt is he has built his image on being an affable, lovable dork that people can relate to. Almost like Seth Rogan, except with abs and a more well-rounded filmography. Leading up to the release of Guardians of the Galaxy, my Facebook news feed was covered with links talking about how awesome of a guy he is. While there are plenty of cases of celebrities being decent people, Pratt is one of the few people whose actual image is built on that. Not only is it great to see a guy like him become so famous, but it's nice to see him get popular [partially] because of it.
Actress: Emma Stone
Emma Stone showed a lot of greatness this year. She did a fantastic job in Birdman and said a lot of on-point things, from not being afraid to call out sexism to having great things to say about topics like body positive, when not on the silver screen. Not to mention her appreciation of puns.
Like with Christ Pratt, I appreciate her image. She manages to combine being down to earth, funny, and willing to talk about important issues women face. Not only that, but with roles in both the critically acclaimed Birdman and the box office hit The Amazing Spiderman 2, she's shown a wide range of acting ability. These are all admirable traits, and her ability to balance everything while being likable is phenomenal.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking: "sure, Chris Pratt and Emma Stone have their images built on being nice, but what about who they really are?" Well, here's the thing: most of the young folks across the world looking to famous people as role models aren't going to meticulously research how these famous people act in their most private, genuine moments. They are, however, going to see the image created by the celebrity and their PR team. Yes, we can cry "but celebrities shouldn't be considered role models!" all we want. I agree. But it won't change the fact that they are looked to as role models, whether we like it or not, especially for young folks who don't have good role models in their own lives. With this reality in mind, having positive images out there for younger people to see is most certainly a good thing.
TV Show: Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey
There is no shortage of people on the internet complaining about how intellectuals aren't valued as much as they used to be. About how the United States is in a fervent place of anti-intellectualism compared to, say, half a century ago. And, unlike most forms of nostalgia, there is actually some truth to this sentiment. During the time our parents were coming of age, being book smart was valued a lot more then than today. In fact, this is true not just socially, but systematically. A lot of institutions of higher learning used to be free, such as the UC and CSU systems of California, for instance, and a lot of important legislation related to education was passed.
Of course, what is often left out of this idealization of the past is that the flourish in, and encouragement of, public education was fueled by the Cold War. This was less a time of enlightenment and more a time of an educational arms race between the United States and Soviet Union. People were terrified at the thought of all-out nuclear war, and wanted to make sure they had the upper hand. Especially in science and technology. Education was encouraged, and specifically made more fiscally accessible to people, because of the space and nuclear arms races that were going on at the time.
Costs of education have risen steeply over the last few decades. Higher education is much harder to obtain today, and being book smart doesn't have the same cultural pride it used to. Or it least it didn't, until about two years ago. Enter: astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson.
Neil deGrasse Tyson has done what Carl Sagan did a generation before him: he's made learning, particularly science, cool. He's charismatic, funny, and laid back. He was a wrestler in high school and college, and a damn good one at that; in high school he became the captain of the wrestling team and in college he became a letterman. Yet ever since he was little, he wanted more than anything to become a scientist. And, after pushing forward despite every obstacle he found, he succeeded.
Fast forward to today, and he's become a huge cultural icon. And an important one. In addition to being someone to make science cool, he's also worked to make it accessible. In a country where about 40% of the population believe in creationism and don't understand the word "theory", someone like him is important. And, unlike people like Richard Dawkins, who ooze elitism and condescension, Neil deGrasse Tyson's approach is much more welcoming and interesting. Nothing put that on display more in 2014 than Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey, the reboot of the previous Carl Sagan show.
Throughout the course of the show, Neil deGrasse Tyson waxes poetic about the earth and stars while teaching science to a new generation. The excellent series touched on all sorts of topics, from non-controversial topics like the speed of light and supernovae, to topics that shouldn't be controversial but are, such as evolution and climate change. He does so with an excellent production team, including Carl Sagan's widow Ann Druyan (who is a badass herself, but doesn't get enough credit), and the audiovisual components of the show are extremely well done. The whole package comes together to make science- and critical scientific thinking in general- fun, engaging, and cool.
Scientific Discovery of the Year: Scribbles on Shells!
This has been quiet a year in science. From unearthing a shitload of new dinosaurs to evidence suggesting plate tectonics on Europa, one of Jupiter's largest moons, there was no shortage of fascinating new discoveries in multiple fields. This category, in fact, may have actually been the most difficult one for me to narrow down to a single choice.
In the end, I had to go with a choice in the field of paleoanthropology: that of possibly the oldest art ever made. What's remarkable about this discovery is that it's not older than previously known artwork by only a few thousand years- which, in the eyes of most fields of science, isn't much- or even tens of thousands of years, but hundreds of thousands of years. Modern humans, or homo sapiens, have only existed for about 200,000 years; these shells are about 500,000 years old. In Indonesia, where the shells were discovered, this was during the reign of the homo erectus, one of our hominid ancestors (though many paleoanthropologists argue homo erectus was actually the same as its contemporary, homo ergaster, but just given a different name because of its location being different than that of homo ergaster).
Either way, homo erectus used tools and fire, but were never thought to have made any art. That all changed with this discovery of sea shells with these basic but distinct engravings.
This may sound small, but in the context of human history, this is the beginning of every creative endeavor we've ever embarked on. Paintings, sculptuing, film, poetry, literature, music- all products of our creative imagination as human beings. As with everything else in human history, it's been a gradual process. This discovery shows that this process has been going on longer than we imagined, longer than we have even existed as humans beings. What does that mean for who we are? What does that mean about our relation to our ancestors? What does that mean about the creative capacity of other non-homo sapien creatures? I don't know, but with this discovery, you can bet paleoanthropology will have plenty of fascinating things to say about the subject in 2015.
Scientific Achievement of the Year: Philae Lander
Sure, science has figured out some pretty cool stuff this year, but what has it actually done? Turns out, like most years, it's done quite a lot. From impressive milestone achievements to innovations in how we tackle global issues like disease and hunger, science has a damn good list of reasons to pat itself on the back.
To me, though, nothing beats the idea that we, as humanity, actually landed on a comet last year. Let me repeat that: we landed a motherfuckin' spacecraft on a motherfuckin' comet. That is seriously some scifi shit deserving of its own movie adaptation. The European Space Agency has accomplished one of the most impressive feats in the history of science.
This event was a long time coming. The Rosetta spacecraft was launched back in early 2004. Now it is in orbit around comet 67P-CG, which is the comet it sent the Philae lander on, and will be for quite some time so that it can study it.
With some of the early data, there have already been some interesting discoveries. For instance, earth's water. Where did it come from? Scientists often say a combination of asteroids and comets. With the findings from this mission, we have learned that- based on measuring the proportions of a hydrogen isotope called deuterium to normal hydrogen- the hydrogen ratio is not only different from earth's, but different from the ratios found in many other comets near Jupiter, as well. This means that the comets around Jupiter may have come from more diverse sources than we originally thought, and it also gives weight to the idea that more of earth's water comes from asteroids than comets.
As the comet gets closer to the sun, the solar-powered Philae lander will reboot and get down to business. Let's see what amazing things we discover thanks to ESA's monumental cosmic achievement. Let's also take a moment to appreciate what fantastic things we can achieve when we aren't busy oppressing and murdering each other. This is the sort of magnificent accomplishment we are capable of as a species, if we can just pull it together.
MMA Fighter of the Year: Robbie Lawler
To put it lightly, Robbie Lawler had one hell of a year. After beating Josh Koscheck, Bobby Voelker, and Rory MacDonald in 2013, Robbie Lawler fought Hendricks for the vacant welterweight title in easily one of the best MMA matches of 2014. He ended up losing by way of a controversial decision after five rounds of technical but brutal war.
Losing a title shot can make or break a fighter. Usually, it's the latter. Robbie Lawler bounced back after his "loss", however, knocking out Jake Ellenberger and soundly beating Matt Brown, the latter fight I wrote a breakdown about and consider one of my favorite fights of the year.
These impressive victories earned him a rematch with Hendricks for the welterweight title. While the match wasn't as electric as the first, it was still a good one. What it did have in common with the first match, though, was a close decision- this time, in Lawler's favor.
From my point of view, I would say that Lawler inched out Hendricks in the first fight, and lost the more recent fight on a similarly slim margin. However, in terms of the unfortunately over-wrestling friendly scoring often used in the UFC, Hendricks probably should've won their rematch. On the other hand, he coasted the last two rounds by trying to hold Lawler to the ground with his wrestling ability and did nothing but try to keep his position. So, in the end, I imagine the judges voted against him to discourage that sort of dry hump-tastic stalling, a decision I am more than okay with.
Either way, this was a year of phenomenal performances by Lawler, no matter what criteria you use. He beat big names, used great technique, and was entertaining as hell while doing it. He is, in my opinion, the clear winner for fighter of the year.
MMA Fight of the Year: Cerrone vs Alvarez
This entry is probably next to scientific discovery of the year in terms of the difficulty I had choosing. There were some amazing fights throughout the year, including the aforementioned Hendricks vs Lawler I and Lawler vs Brown. However, in the same way the Oscars often give a different prize to picture of the year and director of the year as a sort of compromise, I decided against selecting any fights with Lawler in them to make way for other equally deserving bouts.
Even with that decision, though, there was difficulty involved. There were some truly great fights this year, such as Junior Dos Santos vs Stipe Miocic, Lyoto Machida vs Chris Weidman, TJ Dillashaw vs Renan Barão, and Jose Aldo vs Chad Mendes II, just to name some that come to mind. This was a damn tough one to narrow down.
In the end, I had to go with Donald Cerrone vs Eddie Alvarez. I chose this bout for two reasons: (1)to talk about how much I love knee strikes and (2)give some recognition to Cerrone.
Eddie Alvarez has always been one of the best MMA fighters of any weight division outside of the UFC. We as fans were very lucky to finally see him switch over, and he showed in the beginning of the match against an elite level opponent in Donald Cerrone that he belonged there. His boxing is fantastic by MMA standards, especially his footwork and head movement. In the beginning of the fight he was giving Cerrone serious trouble, especially during a clinch exchange where he fired a strong burst of uppercuts and rocked Cerrone.
Cerrone came back, though, and he did it with my personal favorite strike in martial arts: the knee. Cerrone is a tall, lanky fighter for his division, yet in the past he always got sucked into brawls where his reach would actually work against him. Here, though, he started timing and firing superb knee strikes to the midsection of Alvarez every time Alvarez tried to crowd him. The damage from these knee strikes started adding up and, as the fight went on, Cerrone's lead became more and more pronounced despite valiant efforts from Alvarez.
Donald Cerrone ended his year with 4 victories, with three of these bouts winning some sort of award. He's doing extremely well against elite competition, and should he beat Myles Jury (who he faces later today as of this writing), he will prove he is ready for another cracked at Anthony Pettis.
Bullshit News Story of the Year: Microwaved Phones
There has been no shortage of bullshit news stories this year. Luckily, none of the bullshit stories got as big as the knockout game did the year before, but not for a lack of trying on the part of traffic hungry news and clickbait sites.
I don't know if this existed before the internet, but one thing I see constantly on social media is the need people have to think everyone is stupider than them. While I'm certainly no psychologist, I can't imagine thinking of everyone who isn't you as unrelentingly stupid is a healthy foundation for your intellectual self-esteem. Otherwise, when you start to figure out that everyone makes mistakes, and a lot of the world's problems are caused by well-intentioned goof ups, misfortune, laziness, apathy, greed, and other factors not at all associated with intelligence, and that most people are in fact capable of forming basic sentences and putting on their pants in the morning without setting themselves on fire, how can you tell yourself you're better than everyone else?
This is where the viral news story about stupid people comes in. Haha, look at these idiots! In this case, it was apparently a wacky amount of people putting their smartphones into the microwave. Haha, dumb people sure are stupid, am I right? People are so dumb, it sure is nice to be smarter than everyone else!
Actual New Story of the Year: US-Cuba Relations
This completes the trifecta of "holy shit, how do I choose?!" entries on this list. So, so many things happened in 2014. At first I really, really wanted to go with all the protests that have been happening the world over, but I decided that it would be too easy a choice. And, if I were to make this list a consistent thing (and I'd like to), choosing protestors every single year would get a little stale. Plus, there were protests about such a diverse range of issues, and in so many places around the world, I couldn't possibly do all of those stories justice in a single entry. So I decided to opt out of going that route- though, that said, I will still be talking about social movements and current events related to them in a few of the items later down on this list.
Even after making that decision, though, I still had trouble narrowing it down. But I ended up going with the bid to restore US-Cuban relations because this is actually a topic I am well-educated on. If I were to talk about, say, the Crimea, I'd be doing little else than rehashing the generic summaries everyone else has given.
The trade embargo with Cuba was strictly a geopolitical event of the Cold War and had nothing to do with human rights. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying Fidel Castro is a great guy, but his predecessor- the US supported Fulgencio Batista who Castro overthrew in 1959- wasamonster. While both Castro and Fulgencio were both repressive dicks, at least Castro launched education and healthcare campaigns (including in the oft-neglected countryside), labor reforms, humanitarian aid, and a slew of other changes that benefited a lot of people, especially those lower on the socio-economic chain.
Ever since the end of of the Cold War, the embargo with Cuba has remained in place, and we have stubbornly claimed it is maintained for human rights purposes. The real, reason, of course, is the powerful Cuban American lobby in this country. The first wave of immigrants from Cuba were many members of the wealthy elite, who felt afraid of Castro's particular brand of communism. Since then, they have used their power to make sure that ties with Cuba have remained severed. On the other end of the spectrum, there really wasn't a lobby to counter them. Plenty of people have been of the personal opinion that the embargo should stop, but no one actually had enough of a vested interest to organize and lobby around the position.
What has happened, though, is that a lower percentage of Cuban Americans than ever oppose the ban. This isn't just because the children and grandchildren of Cuban immigrants are now outliving their parents and grandparents, but also because a lot of the Cuban immigrants who came here after the initial fifteen or so years following the Cuban Revolution didn't immigrate because of anti-communist sentiments the way their predecessor did. They migrated during rough economic times in Cuba, and considered Castro neither a paragon of virtue nor an evil communist dictator. They were hungry and going to where they thought they had the most opportunity.
Now, with diplomatic relations being restored and prisoners being exchanged, there is more promise than ever for this senseless embargo to end. What I do find unfortunate about the whole situation, though, is that the talks have centered around talk of US business interests setting up shop there. I hope that, if this revamp in US-Cuba relations do end up going through, there will still be mechanisms in place to prevent too much US corporate meddling. I also hope Cuba keeps up their insistence on not handing over Assata Shakur.
Despite being a bit jaded about the hows and whys of this deal, I do think it is ultimately a good thing. Hopefully this results in family reunification and healing between two countries.
Badass of the Year: Malala Yousafzai
In 2014, Malala Yousafzai became the youngest Nobel Prize laureate of all time. Like many of the people I've mentioned on this list, and with other people further down on this list, her 2014 continued the momentum she built during previous years. Hey, would you look at that? It's almost as if achieving greatness (and shout outs on blogs, perhaps the most important prize of all) comes with putting in years of excellence beforehand.
Anywho, Yousafzai, ever since she was young, has been an advocate for education for all people, especially girls. This lead to her getting shot on October 9th, 2012 by the Taliban. Even though one of the bullets hit her in the head she pulled through, and since then her advocacy has only increased.
While she has been paraded around in the West as a paragon of virtue, it's important to also know that she has still been unafraid to be critical of the West, too. Back in late 2013, she met with Barack Obama and urged him to stop using drones to kill innocent people, arguing that the death of innocent lives creates more terrorists (also, y'know, that killing innocent people is a horrible crime in and of itself). The Obama administration brushed the comments off and praised her, and unfortunately a lot of the West continues to amplify her criticisms of the Taliban (who, of course, deserve every word of that criticism), but downplay her criticism of their own human rights violations. The fact that Malala is willing to speak to both, however, is a remarkable sign of courage for anyone, especially a teenager who has survived an assassination attempt.
In 2014, she continued her advocacy worldwide for educational access for girls around the world. She has also stated that she wants to return to Pakistan and become prime minister someday, in the same mold as Benazir Bhutto, the first female prime minister of Pakistan, whom she lists as one of her heroes. Considering Bhutto was assassinated back in 2007, that takes guts to say. And Yousafzai has shown no shortage of guts. With her courage and advocacy for such important causes, from education to anti-violence, I certainly hope she accomplishes her goal.
Politician of the Year: Elizabeth Warren
In terms of policy stances, Elizabeth Warren isn't my favorite politician. I'm much more a fan of someone like Kshama Sawant, and on the national stage I prefer Bernie Sanders. Warren has, in my opinion, been silent or noncommittal on a lot of important issues.
That said, Warren has absolutely electrified the progressive wing of the Democratic party. Continuing the momentum she built over the last few years, she has been unrelenting in her mission to call out big banks, corporate control of politics, the student loan industry, and Wallstreet regulations (or lack thereof). Basically, calling out the fiscal mechanisms behind the worst income inequality in the United States since the Great Depression.
What is important about Elizabeth Warren is how (along with grassroots movements around the country) she has helped bring these conversations about this alarming wealth inequality and corporate control of politics into the mainstream. Plenty of Democrats have touched on this topic- President Obama's campaign promise of hope for change was the central premise of his campaign, after all- but they've always been vague in terms of actually pointing to the mechanisms for said inequality (probably because there are a lot of corporate Democrats out there who are only slightly less fiscally conservative than Republicans, and the Democratic Party as an institution also has plenty of special interests it is tied to). Elizabeth Warren is actually willing to call out the who, what, when, and where of everything, and has specific, tangible goals for fixing everything.
Whether or not she ends up running for election in 2016, and whether or not she has the chance to beat others like Hilary Clinton, what Elizabeth Warren has done is bring important dialogue to the center of attention in mainstream politics. Of course, this doesn't necessarily mean there will be a lot of tangible policy differences by Democrats who decide to play progressive to get votes- the Obama administration has been pretty friendly to corporate special interests when selecting people for government positions. But, by bringing these economic issues to the forefront, which a lot of grassroots movements the country over are currently working around, the possibility for people to become informed, think critically about them, and possibly take action is ripe. And meaningful change always comes from people who struggle for it, not the people in office.
Hopefully, we are on the precipice of some systematic reforms to address our alarming income inequality and the corporate control of politics. If so, there is no doubt Elizabeth Warren will continue to play a big part, whether it be continuing her tenure as a senator or as the president of the United States.
Word of the Year: YASSS!!!
Perhaps the most important part of any cynical-asshole-disguised-as-an-intellectual starter pack is the hatred of slang. In recent years, words like swag and twerk have sparked countless fits of rage from people who think speaking "properly" during situations that don't require it is of the utmost importance if you are to retain your 'smart' person cred, and that using slang somehow makes someone less intelligent. This year, one of the words getting these folks riled up the most is "yasss!", a term for when you're so enthusiastic about something "yes!" just doesn't cut it.
Beyond poking fun at pseudo-intellectual elitists, part of the charm of this word is how positive it actually is. The term is, very often, used as one of endearment and encouragement. When talking about the word in an interview, Nicki Minaj had a perfectly concise way of putting it: "I'm confirming that you're the shit! [...] It means eat this up! Eat it up, girl, it's your world. Take it all in!" Basically, its whole purpose is to support someone else in a spirited way. And when one of the year's most popular slang words is as positive as this one, count me in as a fan. Swag.
In the aftermath, many Americans scrambled to find a reason to justify Michael Brown's shooting. Soon, the above photo was circulating on social media and new sites nonstop. Look at him, pointing a gun at the camera like that! And people say Michael Brown was a giant teddy bear? Ridiculous, Lucky Captain Rabbit King. Not if this photo is anything to go by!
Well, as it turns out, it isn't, because that isn't Michael Brown in the picture. It's a guy from Oregon, completely unrelated to Michael Brown. But that didn't stop the image from spreading like wildfire anyway. It demonstrates, perhaps more than anything else in this case, the extent to which so many people will fervently go out of their way to defend the murder of unarmed black people. And to be fair, perhaps in this particular case, maybe Michael Brown really was the assaulter, though considering the fact that cops are almost never indicted and there has been a lot of debate by legal experts about the whole trial, it's hard to take this verdict in good faith.
Since then, there have been more deaths. This includes a Samurai Champloo Mugen cosplayer shot six times in the back, an unarmed woman with biploar disorder and schizophrenia, and a 12 year old armed with... a bb gun. Shortly after the Michael Brown decision, another case failed to get indicted: that of Eric Garner. The video showed absolutely, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that the middle aged asthmatic man was unarmed, unaggressive, and wasn't fighting back, and yet there was still no indictment.
The only silver living from all these tragedies is they have prompted a large social movement under the banner "Black Lives Matter" to raise hell about these horrifying injustices. Hopefully this movement stays strong, because this state sanctioned murder of black people needs to stop.
My sister is a huge fan of the film maker Hayao Miyazaki. Because of this, almost half of the gifts I got her for her birthday this year were Miyazaki related, and we marathoned four of his movies throughout the day as part of her birthday celebration. Three of them- My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki's Delivery Service, and The Secret World of Arrietty- were movies of his I had never seen before. Like the other Miyazaki movies I've seen (Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle, and The Wind Rises), I loved them. The fourth movie we watched was Howl's Moving Castle, as it was the first Miyazaki movie I had ever seen and my memory of it had become foggy.
Upon rewatch, I was reminded Howl's Moving Castle is just your run of the mill "female protagonist lives life for others, protagonist meets boy, boy turns out to be wizard, jealous witch turns protagonist into an old woman, protagonist meets turnip scarecrow and sassy flame demon, protagonist and wizard team up to avert war and rescue people and other living creatures along the way" story. Pretty standard stuff, really.
There's a lot to love about his movies. The beautiful, imaginative worlds he creates; the relaxed but confident pacing that is never afraid to take a moment to breath, rather than constantly charge forward; the recurring motifs of respecting nature, female agency, and avoiding violence. What I want to focus on here, though, is how he creates conflict in his movies.
Conflict is the force that drives the plot in most storytelling works. The idea is that the protagonist has to overcome something- be it external, internal, or both- in order to achieve what they want. Whether they desire inner peace or to rescue a loved one or to obtain a laser that fires Steve Buscemis, they face conflict in order to reach said objective(s).
With great Buscemi comes great responsibility.
In many family friendly films, the conflict is driven by an antagonist who is clearly, unambiguously bad. From the Wicked Queen in Snow White to Scar in Lion King, kid's movies often feature villains who are so pointlessly evil that they probably do the five finger shuffle to the thought of drowning innocent puppies and kittens. At first thought, it makes sense: making easy to understand distinctions between good and bad help give children a clear picture of positive versus negative morality as they build their own moral foundation during their formative years.
Obviously, though, the problem lies in the fact that real life is rarely that simple. Apathy, fear, greed, anger, and weakness are responsible for a lot more problems in the world than "evil" is, if such a thing even exists. But when kids are still forming their own base concept of right vs wrong, are they able to handle a more nuanced approach in the way antagonists and conflict are portrayed? Hayao Miyazaki's answer would be an unequivocal "fuck yes", and his films are all the better for it.
Many of Hayao Miyazaki's antagonists, rather than being evil for the sake of being evil, are people, spirits, and creatures that have clear, understandable reasons behind what they do. Sometimes they do things that are bad for sympathetic or otherwise non-malicious reasons; sometimes their actions cause harm unintentionally. Some of his movies don't even have actual "antagonist" characters, and conflict is derived from internal struggle or external environmental factors.
Here I will go through some of the movies of his I've seen to illustrate different ways he creates conflict in his films. There are, obviously, spoilers ahead.
Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind
Often considered Hayao Miyazaki's first Studio Ghibli film and my personal favorite of his, Nausicaa tells the story of the titular character and her struggle to prevent war and save her homeland in the Valley of the Wind. She does so in a world ravaged by an apocalyptic war that happened a thousand years prior to the start of the movie. The majority of the earth is now covered in a toxic jungle, which is guarded by giant insect creatures called ohmu.
Everything kicks off when an airship from the Kingdom of Tolmekia crashes in the Valley of the Wind. The airship carried both the captured princess of the Tolmekian's rival kingdom, the Pejites, and the embryo of a Giant Warrior, which were genetically engineered biological weapons that helped cause the apocalyptic war. The Tolmekians invade the next morning and occupy the Valley of the Wind while they try to raise the Giant Warrior, hoping they will be able to defeat the Pejites and destroy the Toxic Jungle. When the Pejites find out that the Tolmekians are in the Valley, they lure a stampede of ohmu there to wipe them out in an act of revenge.
What's important to note about the conflict in this movie is that the motivations the movie gives each group makes sense. The Pejites and Tolmekians fight each other not because one side is clearly good while the other is evil, but rather because of a tragic escalation of violence, fear, and hatred that has arisen between the two. Likewise, the desire of the Tolmekians to use the Giant Warrior against the Toxic Forrest isn't some evil plot for world domination, but rather a desperate quest for survival. Before Nausicaa discovers the earth is healing beneath the Toxic Forrest, everyone- even the residents of the Valley of the Wind- fear desperately for their own survival in such a hostile environment. The move is a rash one by people desperate to cling to life, not by an unambiguously "evil" group of people.
In the end, Nausicaa is able to solve the conflict by resisting violence and embracing a calm, healing approach. When she stops the stampede of ohmu by bringing back the kidnapped ohm baby the Pejites used to lure them there, she is almost trampled to death, but the ohms heal her to reciprocate her own healing means she has stuck by throughout the film. After violence is averted and she tells the people about the healing forest, the fighting stops because all the desperation and fear driving everyone's actions up to that point are eased. Not only do the ohmu and Tolmekians leave after the conflict, but the Pejites actually stay in the Valley of the Wind to help them rebuild.
The main ideas behind the entire movie are actually summed up by one seemingly small scene in the beginning, when Nausicaa first meets the fox squirrel. What happens between the two of them is basically a microcosm of the entire movie:
My Neighbor Totoro
The next movie by Miyazaki after Nausicaa, My Neighbor Totoro is a very different film. Set in relatively modern times, the story is about two sisters who move to a new home in the countryside with their father. Their mother, meanwhile, is in a hospital, being treated for a nondescript illness. The large, ambitious themes of Nausicaa are largely absent, though it is worth noting that living with nature, rather than fearing it, is still a prominent theme.
The conflict in this movie is not very overt. There certainly aren't any wars or super weapons to be found here. In his Great Movies writeup of the film, Roger Ebert even said that Totoro is "based on experience, situation and exploration--not on conflict and threat." Later on in the same article, as he describes the infamous bus stop scene, he writes: "notice how calmly and positively the scene has been handled, with the
night and the forest treated as a situation, not a threat. The movie
requires no villains."
There is, however, a source of conflict in the film: the girls trying to cope with the absence of their mother. Throughout the film, and especially towards the end, the girls become increasingly saddened by their mother's absence as she recovers in the hospital. The desire of these two protagonists is to spend more time with their mother, and the obstacle is her hospital stay. No conniving plots to hurt anyone else, no malicious bullying children, no adults who inexplicably hate kids unrelentingly. Just two little girls who want to see their mom again.
The rest of the film, then, could be analyzed in a number of ways. Perhaps the creatures and spirits they encounter are a product of their imagination, a coping mechanism of sorts; perhaps the creatures and spirits are real and can sense their sadness. Perhaps these creatures and spirits are real, and are willing to show up to every child who is receptive to them. Perhaps they are figments of the girls' imagination, not as a coping mechanism to make up for how much they miss their mom, but because of their love of adventure and/or nature.
Whatever the reality of this film, its reliance on adventure and imagination, rather than evil antagonists, are a unique and pleasant approach to story telling. While it doesn't give us many lessons for the ugly realities of the world we live in the way, say, Nausicaa or Princess Mononoke do, its model of story telling does still encourage a certain gentleness, curiosity, and harmony with nature, all of which are wonderful traits to encourage in children (or anyone, really).
Kiki's Delivery Service
Of the four movies we watched on my sister's birthday, I think Kiki's Delivery Service may have been my favorite. The story revolves around Kiki, a young witch from the countryside, trying to find a big city to move to so that she can train to become a witch.
Near the beginning of the movie, when Kiki is flying around with the goal of finding a city to begin her training, she runs across another young witch in training. The witch is very rude to her, but Kiki is unrelentingly kind nonetheless. Because of this, the witch- while not changing her abrasive demeanor- actually gives some helpful advice about using one's inner skills when working as a witch in training. A lesser movie would've kept her hostility and established her as an antagonist for Kiki to overcome. Here, though, Kiki shows that being nice to people often pays off.
The main conflict of this movie comes from Kiki's own insecurities about herself. When she first chooses a town to train in, she is disappointed to find out how apathetic everyone is about her arrival. The conflict comes not from people making a big deal to hurt or belittle her, but rather how little of a deal they make of it at all. How will she make it in this big, seemingly uncaring place that she is unfamiliar with? Anyone moving to a new city for the first time can certainly relate to this.
Luckily, a kindly baker named Osono takes her in. Soon after, Kiki realizes her ability to fly sets her up perfectly for a delivery service. There are complications when she starts, as is to be expected when someone starts doing something for the first time, but as the movie goes on Kiki becomes more and more insecure about herself. She is nervous around extroverted people and hates the dark dress she
has, wishing she instead had the more colorful dresses worn by the city
girls. Because of this, she loses her ability to fly and talk to her cat Jiji.
Her inevitable return to form comes not from a need to defeat an evil villain, but from an artist named Ursula who teaches her that it's okay to be different and important to believe in yourself. When a severe windstorm puts her friend Tombo, who is on an airship at the time, in danger, she summons her courage and believes in herself enough to reach out and save him.
Princess Mononoke
My second favorite Miyazaki film, I almost didn't write an entry for this one considering how similar it is to Nausicaa, both thematically and structurally. Both are about a pacifist protagonist who tries to stop a war and prevent the corruption of nature for humanity's personal gain, but presented in a way that looks at the humans involved with sympathy rather than painting them as unambiguously malicious.
I decided to include this entry, however, because while Princess Mononoke says a lot of the same things as Nausicaa, it does so in a much darker and more complex way. Whereas Nausicaa is successful 100% of the time at preventing severe violence and only uses violence once herself, in a very understandable fit of rage after losing her father, Ashitaka isn't always successful in deescalating conflict and uses violence to defend himself multiple times. More than once, he actually directly kills his enemies.
On top of that, there are more factions here than there were in Nausicaa. We still have the rival human factions that are warring, but now nature itself is split; the apes, wolves, and boars all have different approaches to how they want to defend themselves. The wolves engage in what is essentially guerrilla warfare with the humans, while still being kind enough to take in one and raise her as their own; the boars desperately launch all-out attacks, as they are losing their elders and spiritual leaders at such a pace that they are losing themselves; the apes try to plant trees and want to eat the humans, as they don't seem to have the combat prowess to battle them the way the boars and wolves do.
Like with Nausicaa, the humans are also fighting for survival. Lady Eboshi is perhaps one of the most complex antagonists ever put to film, animated or not. She treats people whose humanity is routinely neglected, such as brothel workers and lepers, like people deserving of love and respect just like anyone else. Her ambition is to be able to expand Iron Town not so she can rule the world, but so she can keep her and her people safe. Her goals are a little foolhardy and reckless, of course, but they're done out of good intentions.
Jigo, the fake monk working for the emperor, is probably the closest to "evil" in the movie. But it's important to note that greed is the root cause of his actions, not malice. He's like a (much less terrible) version of The Comedian from Watchmen. He understands the way the world works and how terrible it can be, and he cynically goes with the flow in order to benefit from it. Unlike The Comedian, however, Jigo seems a decent enough guy when not directly working toward his own self-interest. When he first meets Ashitaka, the protagonist, he sticks up for him when Ashitaka tries to buy some rice. He's out for himself, but if it doesn't cost him anything, he'll look out for someone else, too. Of course, his selfish approach isn't a good one, but he's far from a one-dimensionally evil bad guy.
Unlike Nausicaa, there is a lot of violence and bloodshed in Mononoke. Humans and boars go to war, and the Forest Spirit gets its head severed despite Ashitaka and San's best efforts. Many people are killed. However, like with Nausicaa, the root cause of this violence is caused by the mind-killing fear of feeling threatened. Even the emperor whom Jigo is working for is afraid; he wants to be immortal because he fears his own death.
Having established this, the lessons and model of conflict are largely the same as in Nausicaa. The factions clash, the protagonist works to stop them from continuing to clash, humanity's attempts to exert control over nature and each other backfire, and everyone goes their separate ways when they realize the error of their ways, rather than continuing to fight and perpetuate the cycle of violence.
The Wind Rises
Hayao Miyazaki's final film, The Wind Rises, is much different than the rest of his filmography. The film follows Jiro Horikoshi, a peaceful daydreamer who loves the idea of flying and grows up to become an airplane engineer. Unlike Miyazaki's other films, whose plots cover events that don't have a particularly long timeline, The Wind Rises follows Jiro's life from his years as a child all the way to adulthood. Through it he experiences love, loss, tough moral dilemmas, and, of course, airplanes.
There are three central sources of conflict in this film: his challenge in learning to build planes in the first place, the moral dilemma that his planes are used for war, and his wife's case of tuberculosis. As you have probably noticed as a recurring theme by now, none of these conflicts come from a bad guy who wants to destroy the world.
The first part of the film is about Jiro's challenges in trying to make it in the field of engineering. As a child he wanted to be a pilot, but when he shares a dream with an Italian plane designer named Caproni, he is told that someone with glasses doesn't have the eyesight to become a pilot. In response, Jiro decides he will make planes instead, which Caproni encourages. As Jiro works towards becoming a good aeronautical engineer he faces a fair number of setbacks, which is to be expected with the development of any skill, especially one as technical and complex as this one.
Eventually he starts to get the hang of it. He also ends up marrying Nahoko, a girl whom he had met when he helped her after an earthquake earlier in the film. Things aren't all good, however. She has tuberculosis, which is killing her. And, speaking of killing, Jiro becomes increasingly unhappy with the fact that his planes are being turned into instruments of war. The rest of the movie's conflict comes from the couple trying to cope with Nahoko's declining health and Jiro grappling with the fact that his planes, those vehicles of freedom and adventure, are being used in war.
What the conflict in this film ultimately boils down to in this film, then, are trying to appreciate the painfully finite time we have with our loved ones and trying to conciliate our values with how we support ourselves. These are defining characteristics of what it means to be human.
Hayao Miyazaki's movies create conflict in a way where blame and moral deficiency don't lie squarely on the shoulders of one character or group. Sometimes it's because the characters and factions involved have good reason for what they do, whereas other times it's because there aren't actually any characters or factions causing conflict at all. Hayao Miyazaki is one of the best film makers of all time, and I count myself lucky to have been around during the career of such an all time great. Hopefully, in the wake of his retirement, more animated film makers step up to continue his practice of making truly fantastic animated films in the same mold as him and other animation greats, such as Pixar's John Lasseter and Pete Docter.
To say something everyone everywhere already understands: the world can be a fucked up place sometimes. As human beings, we are capable of creating as much horror as we are beauty, as a look at any history book or news program will tell us. One of the most profound and important issues we have to grapple with in this life is how we can stick to our own principles in a world that can be so unthinkably brutal, so that we may stay true enough to ourselves to live a life we consider worth living in the short amount of time we have.
There are plenty of movies that are about finding meaning in life, as well as movies about people trying to stick to their convictions despite everything that is thrown at them. Some even combine them, such as Akira Kurosawa's masterpiece Red Beard. Movies that explore these types of themes are usually among my favorite (provided everything is well executed, of course).
For me, the Human Condition trilogy covers all of these questions about human identity better than any other film or film series I have ever seen. The name of the trilogy is an ambitious one, but luckily the films
themselves are up to par with the title. These movies are the
fulfillment of everything cinema has the potential to be.
The protagonist of the trilogy is a man named Kaji. He is a twenty eight year old pacifist who believes that all human beings deserve to be treated with respect to their human rights. He's not afraid to stand up for these beliefs, either. Throughout the trilogy, much of the conflict involves him trying to stay true to his convictions despite all of the human ugliness around him, as well as trying his best to make it home to his wife Michiko.
The protagonist is played by Tatsuya Nakadai, who absolutely nails the role. He plays Kaji with a dignified gravity, crafting him as a stern, prideful, flawed, but ultimately good human being who always tries to stand with his beliefs. He also does so with a certain sense of style that makes Kaji come off as cool- though this fades a bit later on in the trilogy, as conditions become increasingly desperate for him. Few characters in cinema are as noble and aspiration-worthy as Kaji.
To be clear, though, Kaji certainly isn't perfect. He is often times far too prideful and hard-headed. He also tends to keep things from his wife, even when she repeatedly tells him explicitly that she wants to know about everything going so that she can be another ally for him in his fight to stand up for his principles. In fact, his communication issues extent not only to his wife, but to a lot of other people as well.
In reviews that I've read about the film, some people have said these flaws make him come off as self-righteous and hypocritical. I find that view highly disappointing. If someone has to be perfect in order to stand up for their values, then no one in the entirety of human existence, real or imagined, has ever earned the right to do so, and if we retroactively erased every gain for human rights people fought for throughout history the world would be far, far worse off than it is now. Rather, I find his flaws make him a more human, well-rounded character, as well as more relatable. It's much easier to see yourself in an imperfect character than a perfect one.
Each of the three films takes place somewhere different, in situations that are increasingly bad for Kaji. I'll keep the descriptions for each entry short and mostly spoiler free (the main gist of the first and second movie's plots will be mentioned since they contextualize the second and third entries, respectively, but nothing mentioned here is more spoiler-y than anything you'd read on the back of the DVD box or any sort of video description).
The first entry, No Greater Love, takes place in Japanese occupied Manchuria, an area in Northeastern China (and a bit of eastern Mongolia) that was colonized by the Japanese and given a puppet, pro-Japanese government in 1932. At the beginning of the movie, set during WW2, Kaji is given the option of either enlisting in the Japanese army or becoming a labor supervisor in a Chinese labor camp. Adamantly opposed to the war, he chooses the latter option with the goal of making conditions less miserable for the Chinese laborers that work there.
When he gets to the labor camp, his beliefs rooted in pacifism, human rights, and socialism are put to the test. This is during the time of a right wing, imperialist Japan, and the system he finds himself in does everything it can to resist his attempts to give Chinese laborers more humane conditions. To say the film is a series of ups and downs is an understatement. Sometimes he succeeds, sometimes he fails, and all of these successes and failures have real, tangible effects on the Chinese laborers, himself, his partner Okishima (the only other administrator of the camp who sees the Chinese laborers as human beings, though not to the same extent Kaji does), and his wife Michiko.
At the end of the movie, Kaji receives a summons to fight for the Japanese army due to a series of events best seen in the film. Thus begins the second entry, Road to Eternity, which follows Kaji as he becomes part of the Japanese military machine he so staunchly opposes. When shipped off to basic training, he excels at every aspect of his training, but his leftist leanings and tendency to stick up for fellow recruits being bullied by the veterans in the barracks single him out for harsh treatment and high scrutiny by the brass.
Interesting side note: the beginning half of the movie is incredibly similar to the movie Full Metal Jacket, to the point where it's clear Kubrick saw this movie and decided to use elements of Kaji's experience in boot camp for his own film.
Between his unbreakable will and the support he receives from friends he makes along the way, such as another left leaning soldier among the veterans named Shinjo, a hospital nurse, and a fellow patient in the hospital, Kaji makes it through basic training and eventually ends up leading a team of new recruits. He does his best to stick up for these recruits, preventing them from facing corporal punishment and other abuses from both officers and veteran trainees alike.
Eventually, they all end up on the battlefield. To spare the details of the battle, things get rough. Kaji eventually loses most of his squad but vows to stay alive, which leads to the final point of the trilogy: A Soldier's Prayer.
The third and final film in the trilogy is also the fastest moving of the three. The Japanese military defeated, Kaji leads a group of survivors to try to reach the Manchurian border so that they can return to society as they know it. A lot happens to the group, which keeps losing and gaining new members, as they have run ins with groups ranging from Japanese holdouts to Chinese peasants. The entire time, Kaji finds himself increasingly desperate, and he struggles to keep true to his own personal morals. These struggles continue even when they are eventually captured by Soviet soldiers and put into a POW camp.
What's powerful to me about this trilogy is its connection to the title. Throughout the saga you see humanity at its worse, but through that suffering you also see true human empathy, dignity, and a willingness to stand up even when everything is against you. No punches are pulled, and that makes these films quite bleak at times, but it also makes the parts of real human goodness all the more touching and powerful.
Another great part about the film is that you really get to see Kaji grow as a person, as well as grow to meet more like minded people along the way- in fact, the two are connected. In the first film, for instance, he is terrible at reaching out to others and suffers for it. As time goes on, however, he learns to form strong bonds with other genuinely good people. The moments in the trilogy with these friendships help counteract the bleak human ugliness you see throughout the films.
Despite how great these films are, though, they are not without their flaws. There are many moments that go from human tragedy to melodramatic, sometimes for seemingly no reason at all. At times the pacing of the films can feel rushed, while other times they can feel slow. The antagonists throughout the trilogy also sometimes seem one-dimensional, ready to enforce a strict status quo without thought or feeling, though there are exceptions.
These flaws are heavily outweighed by how moving and powerful everything is as a whole, however.
In terms of the bigger picture, The Human Condition is about the rise and fall of imperial Japan on the surface. But underneath it is so, so much more. Through the personal journey of a man who goes from a position of power to being oppressed, we see how militarism, imperialism, and oppression changes forms and hands throughout the ages, but should always be opposed regardless of the specifics involved.
After being forced out of isolation in 1854 by Commodore Perry, Japan later began its rise as an imperial power in the early 20th Century after beating Russia in a war in 1905. China, Korea, and other places in Eastern Asia were colonized by the Japanese, and there were many human rights abuses. Yet China itself has had its own issues in enforcing oppressive hegemony, starting from when the Hans coerced various other ethnic groups to create modern China, all the way up to today with places like Taiwan and Tibet. We all know about Russia during its Soviet Union days, and Europe during the days of colonization. The Americas, including the United States, were literally founded on the eradication of Indigenous people and the enslavement of Africans. And, since becoming an empire, the United States has been responsible for its own share of horrors all over the world, from the 1901 Platt Amendment that made Cuba subservient to the US, all the way to the nonsensical War on Terror today that benefits no one except private military industries.
From how I saw it, the point of this trilogy isn't to demonize Japan or Russia, but to oppose militarism, imperialism, and oppression whenever they show up. These are things human beings have been doing to each other throughout history, and this sort of human oriented horror shows no signs of slowing down any time soon. But Kaji and other people from this incredible trilogy show us there always potential to be better. We always, always have the ability to be better.
