korra-s3f

Depth of characters drives strong third Korra season

The Legend of Korra’s third season has ended, and fans were treated to another incredible epic. With its latest season, The Legend of Korra proved that strong and diverse characters with powerful backstories and interesting emotional arcs can add immeasurable depth and interest to any series.

Korra’s predecessor, Avatar: The Last Airbender, saw many characters evolve across its three seasons, and Korra inherited that world with all of its implications. In Korra’s season 3, that allowed viewers to rejoin the life of Zuko, now an old man, to see how his life changed since becoming friends with Avatar Aang. But it was not the first time the series used historical continuity to build incredible characters for the world of Korra.

In Korra’s first episode, we are introduced to Tenzin, who, as the son of Avatar Aang and the water bender Katara, has the weight of the world on his shoulders. His family is the last group from the Air Nation, and we can see how Tenzin struggles with the responsibility of being the sole inheritor of a culture on the verge of extinction.

Tenzin spends the first two seasons struggling with being the son of the last Avatar. By definition, he is incapable of measuring up to the legacy of his father, whose statue stands as a beacon of hope in the waters between the Air Temple and Republic City. Tenzin literally lives in his father’s shadow and often makes decisions with his father in mind. At the same time, Tenzin is a father himself, raising four young children, fully aware that they will one day inherit his burdens.

Tenzin’s role as father is fitting, as he is the audience’s closest link to Aang and the previous generation of the show’s heroes. But for so long, Tenzin is defined and consumed only by his father’s legacy. Tenzin reaches a low point when his spiritual connections are shown to not be as strong as his own daughter’s. Tenzin beats himself up, feeling that he has let his father down, until his brother Bumi and sister Kya remind him that, while they are all Aang’s children, each one of them is also an individual. Tenzin finally realizes his value as Tenzin, the father and the mentor, and not merely the son of Aang.

Tenzin’s evolution and relationship with Korra provide some of the series’ most emotionally powerful moments. At first, Tenzin is the stuffy authority who stands in Korra’s way as she tries to live her life. But by the end of season 2, we see how much their relationship has grown into one of mutual respect and familial love. Korra makes Tenzin’s goals her own and takes it as her duty to help rebuild the Air Nation, which, after being wiped out by the Fire Nation over 100 years ago, finally has a chance to be resurrected at the beginning of season 3.

After Korra’s actions open the portals to the Spirit Dimension, the world around the Avatar begins to change drastically. Part of that change is the resurgence of air benders across the globe. Korra and Tenzin seize the moment to reestablish the Air Nation. Tenzin realizes the incredible significance as he finally has the opportunity to fulfill his father’s dreams while also creating his own legacy.

Tenzin’s strength as a leader is visible through the growth of his daughter, Jinora. Jinora started the show as a seemingly minor character, though her potential was always evident. Instead of leaving her character’s development to the imagination, the writers chose to craft an impressive story arc for her, culminating in the final scene of Korra’s third season.

Jinora shows an incredible love for history, philosophy, legends, and everything involving the Avatar and the Air Nation. It is evident from the beginning that she hopes to inherit the leadership of the Nation from her father, and with season 3, Jinora proves that she is resourceful, intelligent, and powerful. Jinora’s connection to the Spirit World gives her a power that is out of the grasp of even the Avatar, as she is able to project her consciousness across large distances. By season 3’s final scene, it is evident that Jinora has become a leader, reaching a new high, just as Korra reaches her new low.

Having two incredibly powerful woman characters would be impressive enough for any show, but The Legend of Korra goes above and beyond in showcasing powerful women. Asami, originally Korra’s rival for the affections of a boy, came into her own in the course of the show and became defined by much more than just her relationship with a boy. Asami, the head of Future Industries at a young age, stepped up in the first season as a hero, defending Team Avatar against her own father, the corrupt industrialist who was supporting the Equalists. Though she is not a bender, Asami proves herself more than capable as a fighter, utilizing her company’s technology as personal weapons and her own martial arts training to help Korra take down the leaders of the Red Lotus.

The Red Lotus, newly introduced in season 3, are four very powerful anarchist benders who seek to destroy the social order. Believing kings and presidents to be antithetical to human nature, the Red Lotus puts its philosophy into action, even succeeding in killing a world leader. Adding to the depth of these antagonists is the fact that many of the world’s leaders show themselves to be incompetent and possibly dangerous. The audience is better able to understand the characters’ motivations because there is an element of truth to what they say. Still, their actions cross a line, especially as they threaten the lives of the new members of the Air Nation.

The Red Lotus proves their might throughout the season by getting into incredible battles with characters whom the fans know are great fighters. The anarchists are able to take down all three of Aang’s children in a fair fight, establishing their credibility as a force to be reckoned with. Their dominance is then used to great effect to establish the strength of Bolin and Mako, Korra’s best friends who have to step up to the challenge of the Red Lotus warriors.

Bolin and Mako have been part of what makes Korra a great series since the beginning. The brothers of mixed nationality have a strong relationship, which we see throughout the series. Bolin, the earth bender, was always the funnier character, while Mako, the fire bender, was much more serious. The two brothers come from the streets of Republic City, where their parents were murdered, and they had to work for criminals just to survive.

Bolin and Mako are the peasants who dine with kings as they join Korra to help save the world. Mako, a detective for the police force, still mourns the death of his parents and does the best he can to be there for his brother. His growth as an independent hero continues to shine through in season 3 as his detective skills often lead the group in the right direction. But it is his emotional connection with his brother that really shines through in in the most recent season.

Bolin was always the comic relief character, and in that role has added much to the show. However, Bolin was starting to feel static by the end of Korra’s second season, which made his growth in season 3 that much more rewarding. We find out in season 3 that Bolin doesn’t have a lot of confidence in himself, which makes a lot of sense, given his brother’s abilities. Bolin tries to learn metal bending, which is a skill that very few earth benders are able to master. Bolin is shown up immediately by Korra, who masters the skill quickly. The writers play with this development throughout the season, making you believe Bolin is about to step up before ultimately failing, until the end of the season when Bolin, the perpetual comic relief character, saves everybody by proving himself in another way.

Bolin and Mako’s characters both shine incredibly when they meet their extended family for the first time. Bolin quickly learns the names of everybody and welcomes them all into his life. Mako, still reserved, finds comfort in meeting his grandmother for the first time. Their family was unaware of their parents’ passing, and when Mako has to break the news to their grandmother, he gives her his father’s scarf, which Mako has been wearing for the entirety of the show. Mako giving up the scarf to his father’s mother creates an unbelievably powerful moment shared by him, Bolin, and their family. That moment wouldn’t be possible without the long-term writing that has made the show so strong.

But whereas Bolin and Mako grow stronger for each other, we are also treated to another pair of siblings who prove that you don’t have to like each other to love each other. The Beifong sisters, Lin, and Suyin, act as parallels to many of the show’s other characters while still being compelling and powerful in their own right. The sisters are the daughters of the first metal bender, Toph Beifong, one of the protagonists in The Last Airbender, who has achieved legendary status within the Avatar World. Toph was blind and lived with an overbearing family that prevented her from living her own life until she ran away. As a parent, Toph chose to learn from her parents’ mistakes and gave her children incredible freedom, perhaps too much, with Suyin slipping into the life of a criminal and Lin going out of her way to become like her mother in an attempt to make her proud.

Lin has been around since the beginning of Korra and was originally used as another obstacle for Korra. As the chief of police, Lin was unwilling to let Korra run free in her city, finding the Avatar’s attitude and behavior to be frustrating and, at times, illegal. In time, however, Lin and Korra’s relationship grew into one of respect, and the two powerful women have been saving each other’s lives frequently ever since.

In season 3, we learn that, like Tenzin, Lin has never been able to get out of the shadow of her more famous parent. Suyin, who has since reformed and become a great leader of the Metal Clan, reveres her mother, continuing to build on her legacy since Toph has disappeared. Suyin does her best to convince Lin of her changed attitudes, but it takes much persuasion and an epic metal-bending fight to finally put the past in the past.

Lin and Suyin are able to move past their differences without ever acting as though their problems don’t exist. Like Bolin and Mako as they take on two of the Red Lotus members, Lin and Suyin work together, saving each other’s lives, to fight the incredibly powerful combustion bender of the Lotus.

Adding to all of these incredible characters is the series’ title star, Korra. Korra was always powerful, always skilled, and always sure of herself. Revered as a demigod since birth, Korra became abrasive, expecting everyone to listen to her and allow her to do as she pleased, leading to early season head-bumping with Tenzin and Lin. In season 2, her attitude almost sparked a civil war, but she came into her own as a leader by connecting to the Spirit World and gaining a greater understanding of the world in which she lives.

In season 3, however, Korra is pushed to the brink. Her decision to leave open the Spirit portals has proven very unpopular, and the people of the world don’t like how their world has been forever changed. Korra faces constant public scrutiny for her decisions, even leading to her banishment from Republic City.

Korra has also become the first Avatar since the original to be unable to speak with her past lives. For much of the show, when the Avatar reached rock bottom, Aang or Korra could call upon the spirits of their predecessors to offer guidance. With the opening of the Spirit portal, however, Korra’s connection has been severed. With the Avatar no longer acting as a bridge to the Spirit World, and without her connection to her past lives, in addition to the Equalists and the Red Lotus calling the Avatar a relic of a bygone era, Korra’s confidence in her ability and her importance to the world are thoroughly shaken. In overcoming the challenge of the Red Lotus, Korra was left broken, in a wheelchair, questioning if she is even needed anymore.

With Korra’s growth as a character, the stakes of the show have been raised. We are left with the idea that the world could really lose its Avatar as it modernizes into a society more familiar to us. The changing times may prove that the Avatar is no longer needed, and Korra could truly be the last. With that idea comes the possibility that The Legend of Korra’s title character will actually die, adding a new layer of interest to the show’s fourth and final season.

By the third season finale of The Legend of Korra, the audience is able to see the incredible depth of characters — and depth of character — that makes Korra so compelling. No fewer than nine heroes get to shine in the final battle, as four distinct and established villains fight them to the bitter end. Each fight carries with it greater emotional weight: we see the relationships between brothers, sisters, and fathers and their daughters. Even subtle moments carry the weight of history in them, such as the moment when Lord Zuko learns that Korra spoke with his uncle, which fans of The Last Airbender will remember was the most compelling relationship of that show.

The end of the season again establishes a new status quo as a Nation slowly rebuilds, a leader steps up, and another hits rock bottom. In an incredible move, the creators of The Legend of Korra have given us three straight epic seasons, full of action, adventure, drama, comedy, politics, philosophy, history, and rich characters. Without a doubt, The Legend of Korra will go down in history as one of the most unexpectedly great shows.

goodbye-11

As Doctors cycle through, so do fans’ emotions

“Everything’s got to end sometime; otherwise nothing would ever get started.”
“We’re all just stories in the end.”
The Doctor

In the spring of 2008, I finally took a coworker’s advice and began watching episodes of a British science fiction series some readers may have heard of called Doctor Who. I started from the beginning of the 2005 relaunch, which ended a 16-year drought of regular Doctor Who programming. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and once I started watching the show, I didn’t understand how you could base a show around a single character, let the audience grow attached to that character, then change him just like that, as the show had done eight times already.

It didn’t take long for me to be completely hooked on the adventures of the Ninth Doctor and his companion, Rose. I would come home from work at 11 p.m. or later and not be able to go to sleep until I had watched at least one, most likely two, episodes. Christopher Eccleston was fantastic, and even though I knew he would only be in the first series (as those wacky Brits call “seasons”), I loved his portrayal of the Doctor and didn’t want to see him go. I was in tears by the end of the finale, “The Parting of the Ways.”

I had heard that Eccleston’s successor, David Tennant (whom I hadn’t yet connected to Harry Potter), was even more brilliant, but I didn’t see how that was possible. Tennant won me over by the end of “The Christmas Invasion,” the annual Christmas special (those Brits again) that served as the Tenth Doctor’s premiere. Once series 2 got underway with “New Earth,” I knew he would be my Doctor. It seemed as though he was born to play this role; he made being the Doctor seem so natural and effortless.

During Tennant’s time as the Doctor, we saw many companions come and go; losing Rose and Donna were the hardest for me. I had finally caught up to the American viewings on the Sci-Fi Channel (before its ridiculous name change) and was able to watch the series 4 finale with the rest of the United States (at least, with those who hadn’t downloaded and watched it already).

And then came the confirmation of news I thought I never wanted to hear: Tennant was leaving Doctor Who. First, I was in denial; then, I was heartbroken. He was my Doctor. He couldn’t leave. I couldn’t say goodbye.

I held off watching both parts of “The End of Time” for several weeks because I just wasn’t ready to accept that, by the end, the Tenth Doctor would be gone. And when I finally did watch, the Doctor’s farewell tour was just as difficult as I had imagined. His final words, “I don’t want to go,” echoed what a lot of fans were feeling in that moment.

And then suddenly, in a burst of light, he was gone; replaced by this strange, gangly guy who didn’t look nearly old enough to be the Doctor.

I loved Tennant so much in the role that I thought I would never be able to warm up to Matt Smith, but I’ve learned that there’s this funny thing that happens when you’re a fan of Doctor Who and a Doctor you love regenerates. In the beginning, there’s this feeling of trepidation and concern that the new actor won’t be up to performing the role as well as those who have gone before. You were so enamored with the previous Doctor that you really don’t want to see him go. Then, suddenly, one day you realize the Doctor hasn’t changed at all — at least not really. While his face is different and some aspects of his personality may seem new, he is still, deep down, the same Doctor he always has been. You really do love the new Doctor just as much as the old.

Smith kind of snuck up on me. It took me a little longer to warm to him than it did with Tennant (nearly two years longer), and I don’t even know when it was that I really started to love him. I just remember watching a repeat of Smith’s first Christmas special, “A Christmas Carol,” before his second, “The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe,” aired and realizing that he really was an excellent Doctor. Tennant would always be my Doctor, but Smith now held a special place in my heart as well.

Even before I realized how much I loved his Doctor, Smith continually impressed me with how well he was able to capture the age of the Doctor; despite being the youngest actor to play the role, he really made you believe he was the oldest. He brought a lot of energy and charm to the role as well as a lot of depth and emotion. He introduced us to the Girl Who Waited, the Last Centurion, and the Impossible Girl — and let’s not forget Craig and Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All. He fought the Silence, Daleks, Cybermen, Weeping Angels, and so many more. He married River Song and saved her parents’ marriage. And he won over millions of fans every step of the way.

And now he’s gone.

Sure, he technically left back at Christmas, when we witnessed the Eleventh Doctor‘s regeneration into the Twelfth Doctor. But it didn’t seem real at that point. It would be months until I actually had to watch the new Doctor, so I could pretend for just a little while longer that Eleven was still having adventures with Clara in the TARDIS. However, when series 8 premieres in just over 48 hours, that delusion will be over, and I really will have to accept that Smith is no longer the Doctor.

The hardest part of being a fan of Doctor Who is knowing you will be saying goodbye to actors you love over and over again. But at the same time, this is also a unique and wonderful aspect of the show. While it’s heartbreaking to think that soon I’ll be watching a completely new Doctor, it’ll be exciting to see what Peter Capaldi brings to the role and in what ways he is different-from-yet-the-same-as the old Doctor.

As much as I hated seeing Smith go, I’m really looking forward to meeting Capaldi’s Doctor. I’m not quite as apprehensive as I was in the past; I think I’ve finally accepted that this is how the show works: a never-ending cycle of meeting new characters, accepting them, and loving them, then having to say goodbye. And it really does work; if any other show tried to completely reinvent itself every few years, it would fall apart, but Doctor Who has sustained the practice for more than 50 years.

On top of meeting a new Doctor as the next chapter opens Saturday, we’ll also be starting the process of saying goodbye to his current companion, Clara, as rumors began circulating earlier this week that the 2014 Christmas special will likely be her last episode. Saying goodbye is always hard, but we get to meet new people and the story continues, it doesn’t have to end just because one person’s time in the TARDIS is over.

I, for one, can’t wait to see how the journey continues Saturday night.

OUT-102_20131022_EM-0501.jpg

Outlander deviates, predictably, to show us skin

Read Curiata.com’s review of the series premiere of Outlander on Starz from last week: Outlander adapts time travel, intrigue to small screen


 

The second episode of Outlander, the television adaptation of Donna Gabaldon’s book series, aired Saturday on the U.S. premium network Starz. This installment is where conditions in 18th-century Scotland are vividly and accurately detailed. It opens with the arrival of Claire Beauchamp, who has been transported from the mid-20th century, at Castle Leoch. As Claire looks around her, she sees muddy streets, small crofts, animals milling about, people undertaking their primitive avocations in the courtyard, and traditional dress.

Mrs. Fitzgibbons is introduced to us as she bustles from the castle to greet the returning men. This character is cast perfectly. Annette Badland superbly captures Mrs. Fitz’s (as she is known about the castle) iron-fisted ability to manage a castle filled with unruly men, as well as her deep affection for those who are under her care. After her initial surprise of finding a barely-dressed Englishwoman upon her doorstep, Mrs. Fitz envelops Claire under her capable wing.

As Mrs. Fitz undertakes to feed and clothe Claire (“Let’s get you something that’s a bit more … well, more,” she deadpans), Claire resists, saying that the young man she had assisted earlier, Jamie MacTavish, needs tending because of his gunshot wound. Through a short inquiry, Mrs. Fitz learns that Claire is knowledgeable in medicine and knows what to do for an “inflamed wound,” which we would call an infection. Claire’s skill set definitely earns Mrs. Fitz’s respect, as healers and “charmers” are in short supply in a castle containing so many fighting men. Claire, with Jamie in tow, is taken to a room where garlic and witch hazel are provided her to use as a disinfectant. Mrs. Fitz, who also knows her way around an herb garden, brings cherry bark and comfrey to soothe the pain.

For the first time, Claire is alone with Jamie (whom she knows as Mr. MacTavish). As she removes Jamie’s plaid, she sees that his back is covered with scars. He explains that he was flogged by the English, once for escape and once for “obstruction,” which is “whatever the English say it is.” Claire also learns that Captain “Black Jack” Randall, her modern-day husband’s ancestor, is the one responsible for Jamie’s imprisonment and the floggings. Jamie shares stories about the English soldiers’ mistreatment of the Scottish people, describing an incident where Captain Randall presumably sexually assaulted Jamie’s sister, Janet “Jenny” (Laura Donnelly).

It is here that the show comes up short, losing sight of the book that inspired it. In the text, Janet is described as fine-boned and birdlike, which Donnelly capably represents. However, the written Janet is also fierce and defiant, especially toward the English. Unfortunately, none of this is conveyed on screen when Janet is manhandled by Captain Randall. Instead, the viewer is given several minutes of gratuitous nudity that could have been sacrificed for character development elsewhere. A flashback of the scene as it reads in the novel would have been sufficient to convey Randall’s brutality. In the end, Janet is portrayed as passive while the book showcased her strength of character in arguing with Jamie about whether she would or would not go with Randall in order to spare her brother.

Despite these missteps, the scene succeeds in creating a moment between Claire and Jamie. During their relatively intimate exchange, she tending his wounds and he sharing personal stories, Claire begins to think about her husband, Frank. Jamie comforts her as she cries (swoon!), and Claire is aware of an unbidden attraction to this strange man.

Before we know it, Mrs. Fitz is preparing Claire to meet the estate owner “Himself,” Colum Mackenzie (Gary Lewis), Laird of Castle Leoch and brother to Dougal, the battlefield leader whom Claire met earlier. These scenes wonderfully illustrate the standards of appropriate dress in the 18th century versus Claire’s own time in the 1940s. After being relieved of her own clothing (a simple dress and undergarments), Claire is forced into a shift, wool stockings and garters, stays (a corset), panniers, an under petticoat, an over petticoat, a kerchief to cover or enhance the bosom (whichever the case may be), a stomacher, and, finally, a gown.

Claire is escorted to Colum’s office, which features an impressive library and several exotic birds. A letter on the desk is dated “1 November 1743,” so it is now clear to Claire that she has, in fact, passed through time via the standing stone circle in Inverness. When Colum enters the office, Claire is shocked to see that he suffers from a significant deformity of his legs, which makes it difficult for him to walk.

Colum, while polite, prods Claire as to her family origins and how she came to be alone in the Highlands. Claire attempts to answer the questions as her husband Frank, an army spy, instructed her on how to withstand interrogation. (“Keep to the truth as much as possible.”) She requests passage back to Inverness, which Colum promises “with Mr. Petree, Saturday next.” (This plotline is not in the book.)

After her interrogation, Claire goes to a rooftop walkway and observes Dougal playing with a young boy who appears to be his son. This is a gross misunderstanding, as Claire discovers at dinner that night. The boy is not Dougal’s son, but his brother’s. Colum and his wife, Letitia (Aislin McGuckin), as well as the boy himself, are deeply offended by this mistake, and Claire excuses herself from the table, embarrassed. She is unable to make her escape, however, before being liberally plied with wine and further questioned by Colum. It is clear that the consensus in the castle is that Claire is an English spy who poses a threat to them all.

Claire spends much of her free time planning her escape and tending to Jamie’s wounds. Mrs. Fitz gives Claire the job of helping to gather medicinal and edible plants to supplement the castle’s cupboards. While foraging, Claire meets Geillis (pronounced Gay-liss) Duncan. Geillis (played by Lotte Verbeek) herself knows the many uses of herbs and makes it clear that she is very familiar with charms, poisons, and abortifacients. Witchcraft enters the conversation, a label that Geillis barely denies.

The two meet again that night in The Hall, which is a public forum where complaints are brought before Himself, who resolves them. When a young girl is accused by her father of “loose behavior,” Colum approves her punishment of a public lashing. At the last minute, though, young Jamie offers to take the girl’s punishment for her, in the form of being beaten with the fists of a fellow clansman, Angus. This, of course, requires Claire to tend to him once again.

Mrs. Fitz comes to thank Jamie for taking the punishment, and it is revealed that the young girl’s name is Laoghaire (pronounced Leh-heary), and she is Mrs. Fitz’s granddaughter.

Claire announces that she is leaving Leoch and instructs Jamie how to care for his own wounds. As they say their prim good-byes, Laoghaire peeks into the room, clearly wanting to see Jamie. Claire sends him off to her. The next day, as Claire is about to board the carriage that will take her to Inverness, she is summoned by Colum.

Colum shows Claire to the surgery of the Clan’s healers — the last one being Davey Beaton, deceased. He tells her that she will make a fine replacement. She protests and insists that she be allowed to return to Inverness, as promised. The episode ends as Colum tells Claire that she may not leave until he is satisfied that she has revealed her secrets and poses no threat to his Clan.

This second episode shines a light on a central element of the series. It slowly introduces the typical and expected behavior for 18th-century women: docile, obedient, and meek, with no opinions or thoughts of their own. Contrast those qualities with Claire, who is the exact opposite of this standard, drawing much unwanted attention and doing nothing to dispel rumors about her character.

The Outlander television series does well to retain those themes from the books. But the screen adaptation veers more from the books in this episode than it did in the premiere. It remains to be seen how far this deviation will go.

varrick

Korra draws parallels to real-world march to war

In a recent Nerd/Wise article, I defended the medium of animation as art on par with cinema and modern television dramas by pointing out the incredible social commentary in the first season of Legend of Korra. The program, however, was originally made to be a miniseries, and thus fit an entire story arc into only a dozen episodes, leaving out the filler that was more prevalent in its predecessor, Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Korra debuted as a big success, and Nickelodeon ordered three more seasons of the show. With over 40 new episodes to produce and no original plan to make any more than 12, the series creators had to get to work, leaving fans reasonably skeptical. But Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino did not disappoint with Korra’s second season and continued to showcase the narrative capacity of animated television.

How were they able to keep the show compelling? Konietzko and DiMartino created a season that expanded on the show’s spiritual aspects while grounding the narrative in a much more human story — the philosophical disputes and reasons that lead to war. And the on-screen machinations reflect real, historical precedents for the march to war.

Legend of Korra’s second season follows the protagonist as the society she knows begins to crumble around her. In the process, she becomes a participant in a dangerous process that almost leads her people into a civil war. The slippery slope begins, as they often do, with a supposed visionary pushing his beliefs on others, convinced he is on a spiritual crusade.

In the real world, when someone is so convinced he is on the one true path, he is often liable to take extreme measures to spread that supposed truth. We see this today, with the unrecognized Islamic State terrorizing Iraq and Greater Syria, as well as al-Qaida and other fundamentalist religious groups operating around the globe. Throughout history, we have seen these same attitudes manifesting in the Crusades, the Inquisition, and hundreds of other times when two distinct faiths have come into contact.

In Legend of Korra, it is Unalaq, Korra’s uncle, who believes the Southern Water Tribe has lost its spiritual way and seeks to rectify the situation. He shows Korra that the evolution and progress of humanity is actually harmful to its well-being, as their lack of spiritual understanding has led to a rising frequency of attacks from the Spirit World. After Unalaq saves Korra from an attack by a wayward spirit, the Avatar begins to trust Unalaq, at the expense of her own father, who suspects deception in his zealot brother.

Unalaq is the Chief of the Water Tribes, and his belief in the South’s spiritual failings leads him to take action. But Unalaq’s actions have consequences, and his attitudes inspire a rebellious attitude among the citizens of the South. Those citizens become convinced that independence is the only answer and begin their planning in secret meetings. In this way, the South’s actions mirror those of the American colonists in 1776, who grew tired of the British Parliament’s tightening grip.

The Sons of Liberty met in secret and began advocating for independence as the rest of the nation slowly became convinced. Troops occupying Massachusetts convinced most of the locals that action needed to be taken, and Parliament’s attempts to maintain control ironically caused them to lose it. Unalaq acts in much the same way, sending soldiers to occupy the South, raising tensions and marching his people closer to war. While Massachusetts delegate John Adams pushed the Continental Congress to declare independence, King George III made his intentions clear by sending in many more troops to quash the American rebellion. Adams was finally able to win over his colleagues by pointing out the obvious: that a state of war already existed between the colonies and their mother country.

The American Revolution tore families apart, and in Legend of Korra, the Avatar’s father and uncle find themselves on opposite sides of a conflict that promises to be destructive and deadly. When Unalaq’s intentions become clear, Korra decides to take action against her uncle and defend her father and people. Korra seeks out the help of a powerful nation to bring down the overbearing Unalaq and his troops.

During the American Revolution, it was Benjamin Franklin who sought a powerful nation, France, to help the struggling rebellion. Franklin used wit and his crafty personality to persuade King Louis XVI to send assistance to the Americans. Korra is a bit more direct — and characteristically abrasive — when asking the president of Republic City for help, and the president is unwilling to help out the independence seekers.

Without the help of the president, Korra tries realpolitik, going right to the Republic military with the request for help. Korra, as the spiritual center of the Avatar world, holds a lot of sway, and her brashness brings to light the problems with autocracy, whether within a theocracy or even a constitutional monarchy. If the decision to go to war lies in the hands of only one person, it could come about simply on a whim while a diplomatic solution is still viable. This is the reason the U.S. Constitution grants war-making powers to the legislative, and not the executive, branch of government.

Of course, in practice, that’s not the only way armed conflict actually takes shape in the United States. Spreading the war-making powers out among hundreds of people does not entirely tie the hands of the commander in chief and doesn’t mean senseless wars don’t happen. Especially not in a world in which war is profitable.

In trying to protect her people, Korra receives help from the character that perhaps best epitomizes American plutocracy in the entire show, Varrick. Varrick is the head of a large corporation with its hands in everything from manufacturing to media. Varrick uses his money to influence the politics of the world, funding the political campaigns of both Republic City presidential candidates, supporting the rebels in the South, and selling the weapons of war. Varrick is so blatant in his intentions that he makes Halliburton and Blackwater look like Girl Scouts, even outright saying, “If you can’t make money during war, then you just can’t make money.”

Varrick represents everything wrong with the current American military-industrial complex. Varrick is amoral, showing none of the traits we would normally associate with cartoon villainy, yet performing some of the most evil actions in the show. Varrick sees war as big business and will do what he has to in order to ensure fighting breaks out. He hires criminals to bomb public spaces to build support for the rebels, and sends them to rob Future Industries to force Asami to sell her company to him. Varrick then plans to profit even more off of the war by selling those same rebels Future Industries aircraft and robots.

Varrick even proves to be a master of propaganda. He enlists the help of Korra’s friend, Bolin, to star in “movers,” the Avatar world’s movies, which show Unalaq as a blatantly evil, Fu Manchu-like villain, ironically playing off the fact that the villains in the Avatar world are often colored with shades of gray. This, too, has its analog in world history.

During the World Wars, both sides of the conflict used movies to propagate their messages, often to a ridiculous degree. The Nazis disseminated their ideology with films such as Triumph of the Will and The Eternal Jew, while in America, Frank Capra released the film series Why We Fight to rally Americans behind the cause. Dr. Seuss was commissioned during the war to draw cartoons supporting the war effort, including some racist depictions of the Japanese, while Batman fought Asian stereotypes in film serials, and Superman made sure to “slap a Jap” in the comic books. Today, movies may not be as blatant in their propaganda, but using the media to spread a message — and even to start a war — is very much alive.

Legend of Korra, despite Nickelodeon’s decision to limit the show to digital distribution, continues to be an impressive work of fiction. The series manages to create a mythical epic while grounding it in an unfortunate part of the human experience. We may never be able to bend the elements, but we can relate to the feelings of helplessness as we watch the world around us descend into war. We can only hope that cooler heads ultimately prevail, but with so many factors constantly pushing the world toward conflict, that hope often seems misguided.

beer-taps

Navigating tap handles: Selecting lager or ale

Call me nosey.

I’ve been called worse. But when I happen to be at a bar by myself, I tend to survey the scene. I’ll peruse the beverages on draft and look to see which bartender is apt to provide the best service, but, mostly, I’ll eavesdrop and “people watch.”

Recently, I overheard a college-aged man and woman, seemingly on a date for only the first or second time, sitting at the corner of the bar. Nothing unique, really, but I got the sense early on that the young woman was either not much of a drinker or had recently turned 21 and had little beer-ordering experience. She asked her date to order for her because she didn’t know what to get. He asked her simply, “Well, do you want an ale or a lager?”

I wasn’t listening intently — I’m not that nosey — but the question piqued my interest because I immediately thought to myself, “Come on, kid, do you really think she knows or even cares about the difference?” Not to my surprise, she just stared at him blankly and shrugged.

Now I was listening because I was wondering how this guy would explain it to his date. Obviously, a cold scientific response would not work and would more than likely bore his date to tears. “Budweiser is lager,” he started, and then he paused as he scanned the available beers on tap until he found a green handle and pointed it out to his date, “and Sierra Nevada is ale.”

While I knew his answer was as vague as vague could be, he was essentially correct. His date shrugged again, still a perplexed look upon her face, and said she’d just have a Bud Light. (She added the phrase “I guess” afterward, further cementing the fact that his response meant nothing to her.)

So why the Bud Light and not the Sierra Nevada Pale Ale? Did she really prefer lager over ale? Or did the name have something to do with it?

Be honest with yourself: whether you’re a 21-year-old woman or a 45-year-old man, you are apt to begin considering which beer to order at a bar based on brand name. You, too, likely scan the bar taps, with their ornate, colorful, creative handles, making a mental checklist, crossing off the brands that don’t appeal. But there are many factors beyond the brand that can help you make your choice.

At its most basic level of contrast, beer can be broken into two main categories: ale and lager. You are most likely not going to order a beer by telling the bartender you just want an ale or a lager (unless, of course you’re in Pennsylvania, where “lager” is synonymous with Yuengling Traditional Lager).

All beer is made from the same basic ingredients: water, barley, malts, hops, and yeast. Other things may be added in to influence flavor, color, or consistency, but those elements are common to all beer. The difference between an ale and a lager can’t be found in most of those ingredients, either: some ales will use the same type of malts and hops in their beer as a lager counterpart.

So what is the difference in the name? What makes ale ale and lager lager?

While there is no doubt that some exceptional and seasoned beer drinkers will claim to be able to pinpoint very different tastes between lagers and ales, it really comes down to one thing: the type of yeast used in brewing.

Ales have been brewed for much longer than lagers, with some ancient recipes of ale as medicine having been discovered to date back as far as Sumerian times. Ales most commonly utilize a yeast called Saccharomyces cervisiae, which has been cultivated for thousands of years and which favor warm temperatures, usually between 58 and 86 degrees Fahrenheit. These yeast strains must be brewed at a warmer temperature because, if the water is too cold, the yeast become dormant and do not naturally ferment to turn the water into beer. Most wine production also uses S. cervisiae or a similar strain of yeast.

S. cervisiae is also a top-fermenting (or top-cropping) yeast, meaning that as the brewing occurs, the yeast floats to the top of the brew tank and settles over the beer. This allows for a thick, frothy foam to form over the ale. Ales brewed in this method tend to allow for the fruit and bitter aromas in the hops to be overt in the finished product. Because of this, some ales will have a much cloudier appearance than lagers. Unless very stringent filtering techniques are utilized, most ales will have noticeable remnants or sediment from the yeast even when bottled.

On the other hand, lagers are cited in references and recipes only dating back as far as the mid-1500s in Germany and other parts of Europe. Lager uses a hybrid strain of yeast called Saccharomyces pastorianus, named after famous researcher Louis Pasteur, or Saccharomyces carlsbergensis, named by Emil Hansen, a researcher who worked for Danish beer giant Carlsberg Brewery in the 1800s.

Even though lager yeast is known by two names, it was later found that they are the same exact strain of yeast. Hansen discovered that his strain of yeast could be cultivated in-house and was easier to brew, needing less attention from the brewmaster’s watchful eyes. The owners of Carlsberg shared their secret of cultivating the lager yeast to all the big beer producers of the world, and mass-produced beer has been dominated by lager ever since.

S. pastorianus, while sharing some genome traits with S. cervisiae, grew to become a larger and more resilient yeast strain. The lager yeast also stays active when brewed in colder temperatures. Because of its size and its amenability to cold water, the yeast allows for what is known as bottom-fermentation (or bottom-cropping); the yeast gradually sinks to the bottom of the brew tank, leaving a clearer, cleaner beer.

Another decidedly different factor between ales and lagers is that lagers take much longer to brew. Most lagers need one or more months to ferment, whereas ales can typically be successfully brewed in as little as seven days. The name lager, in fact, is based on the German word lagern, which means “to store.”

It’s no coincidence that cold-brewed lagers are also often served ice cold. (After all, according to the commercials, a Coors Light isn’t fit to drink unless it’s cold enough that the mountains on the can turn icy blue.) Ales, on the other hand, especially those brewed under traditional circumstances like those in England and Belgium, are often served at cellar temperature, or around 55 F.

Let’s revisit the young woman at the bar with her date. Is it a shock that she chose Bud Light, a lager, when given the many choices at the bar? Could the popularity and familiarity of the Budweiser line of mass-marketed beers have played a part?

Nearly every popular American beer brand is headlined by a lager beer. In order for these beers to be produced at a high volume and at a low cost, most are what are known as American adjunct lagers. The word “adjunct” refers to the fact that many of the well-known lager beers (Coors, Budweiser, Pabst Blue Ribbon, Corona Extra, Miller High Life, and Foster’s) are brewed with an added grain, usually rice or corn, to round out the brew. The result is a beer that is usually very easy to drink: crisp, light in taste, low in bitterness, and with a pale yellow color and a middle-of-the-road alcohol level.

Many of the former flagship beers of the biggest macrobreweries have been supplanted by their “lite” versions. Light beers like Coors Light, Miller Lite, and our young lady’s choice, Bud Light, are also lagers. They are usually “lightened” by adding high volumes of rice or corn in the adjuncting process, thereby lessening the contributions, both in flavor and in calories, of the other ingredients. Light beers typically sacrifice those flavors for a lager that is much less filling.

The other popular form of lager in the United States is the pale lager, or pilsner. You’ve probably had world-wide marketed European pale lagers in the form of Heineken, Amstel, Stella Artois, and Harp.

Ales, on the other hand, are often the main attractions for micro and craft breweries. Ales tend to have much more robust, full-mouth flavors that linger. They utilize heavy amounts of hops and/or malts to achieve varying expressions of aromas and flavors. As a result, there are many styles of ale.

There is the American pale ale, like the one offered by Sierra Nevada. Pale ales and witbier are light and fruity, while the famous India pale ale, adored by hopheads across the land, packs on the hops to create intense floral and citrus aromas. Stouts and porters are ales that utilize heavily toasted grain to create a near-black ale with roasted malts and coffee overtones. Tripel ales up the yeast amounts, and quadrupel ales take it a step further by multiplying the grain ingredients four-fold to create dark, frothy ales high in sugar and malts, with equally high levels of alcohol.

But the types of ales don’t end there, with most styles being categorized by their place of origin. For example, there are English brown ales and Belgian brown ales, each having their own distinctive tastes and brewing styles. I could go on, as the number of ales is almost overwhelming … so go out and try some for yourself!

I recently took my own advice and pitted some pale ales against some pale lagers and pilsners. Here are my thoughts:

  1. Left Hand Brewing Company’s 400 Pound Monkey I.P.A., an India pale ale from Longmont, Colorado — Big, frothy head on this hoppy pale ale, notes of clove, coriander … just a lot of spice going on here, maybe too much. I give it a B-minus.
  2. Bell’s Brewing Company’s Lager of the Lake, a pale lager from Kalamazoo, Michigan — This pale lager is not all that impressive; it’s typical for the style, tastes like Miller High Life, only with a little more bitter aftertaste. C+
  3. Erie Brewing Company’s Mad Anthony’s A.P.A., an American pale ale from Erie, Pennsylvania — Easy-drinking … smooth, with a very tolerable amount of bitterness. Would make a good “everyday” beer. B+
  4. “Beer Camp” Electric Ray, an India pale lager that is a collaboration from Sierra Nevada Brewing Company and Ballast Point Brewing — A cool creaminess factor on this lager that is more ale-like, but with a crisp finish and a mild level of bitterness that slides from the taste buds, not destroying them; definitely unique. A
  5. D.G. Yuengling and Son’s Premium Beer, a pilsner from Pottsville, Pennsylvania — Note that this is not the famous Traditional Lager, but the “house beer” at Yuengling. A pilsner with a subtle level of hops that creates a crisp, cutting finish, with a refreshing carbonation. B

Nothing against the good people who produce Bud Light, but please don’t follow the same path as our young lady friend by choosing a beer based on its familiar name. Try some variety! Order a distinctive type of lager and an equally original ale, then rate them against one another until you find a favorite. That way, should you ever get asked the lager-or-ale question, you’ll be ready with an educated response.

jumanji

Sometimes, celebrity deaths give rise to real-life mourning

A few weeks ago, Jumanji was airing on television. I didn’t watch the entire movie — I’ve seen it more times than I can count, and I had other things going on — but I tuned in long enough to see Robin Williams make his appearance. I remember thinking how incredible he was on screen, and how unique — how no one could ever replace him.

Three days ago, I was shocked to learn that this one-of-a-kind man, who had such a large presence on stage and screen and who made so many people laugh, was gone.

While the entire world was still reeling from the loss of Williams, media outlets reported Tuesday the death of another legend, Lauren Bacall. I confess to not being as familiar with her work — there are many classic films I still need to see — but her contribution to American film is so widely known that this was another extremely sad day in the entertainment industry.

I’ve always thought it interesting how emotional people can get when a celebrity dies: images of people crying so hysterically over the loss of a person they had never met, someone they couldn’t possibly have known. Even if we view our favorite artists or athletes as something more than a complete stranger, we can only know the public persona of these stars. Sure, in some cases a celebrity’s public image is very much like the real personality, but other times it’s not even close. When all you know about an actor or actress is the characters they’ve played, how can you really mourn the person?

It’s not that I’ve been entirely unaffected by celebrity deaths. I’ve felt a sadness at the loss of talent and, in cases such as Heath Ledger‘s, at the loss of potential. But until this past year, I’ve never truly mourned a celebrity death the way I would mourn the death of a friend or relative. It changed a little over a year ago, when I woke up one morning to a text from a friend telling me Cory Monteith from Glee had passed away. His was the first celebrity death that really hit me.

Perhaps it was the fact that Monteith was just a year older than me, or that I had followed his career sporadically since he appeared as an extra on Supernatural in 2005. Or perhaps it was that, unlike Ledger, whom I only kept up with occasionally in the media and whenever he had a new film out, Monteith was someone I was watching regularly on television. His Finn Hudson was a character I had adored from the moment I began watching Glee: I loved his awkwardness and good heart, I sympathized with his struggles to find his place in the world and figure out what he wanted to do with his life post-graduation. And like many Glee fans, I was looking forward to Finn’s and Rachel’s inevitable wedding. (I was also charmed by Monteith’s and Lea Michele‘s real-life romance.)

Whatever the reason, Monteith’s death hit me hard. With Monteith, I mourned for his friends and family and the loss of potential. But Monday night, Williams’ death hit me harder.

In the case of Williams, I think I finally understand how people can be so affected by the death of someone they’ve never known in person. For Williams, I mourned because I had grown up on his work and can’t imagine a world without him. There were so many Williams films my family watched over and over: Mrs. Doubtfire, Aladdin, Hook, Fern Gully, Robots. I think my brother and I wore out our VHS copy of Popeye. And then there was Dead Poets Society, which I had watched at a rather young age, and it became a favorite of mine before I was 13. I was a fan of his recent sitcom The Crazy Ones. And I even remember watching reruns of Mork and Mindy, which had its run before I was even born, whenever we could find them on TV.

Williams didn’t just make movies and television shows for us to enjoy, he created characters that touched all our lives in some form or another. He was Mork and Peter Pan and Genie and so many other characters I loved so much. There isn’t a time in my memory when I couldn’t quote some line of Williams’ from one of his many memorable performances. My childhood was shaped by his films, and now, suddenly, that man is gone. It truly does feel like something important has been lost from the world.

However, with both Williams and Monteith, I also mourn because there was a side to them that they kept hidden from the rest of the world. It was those private struggles that eventually consumed them, as they did for Philip Seymour Hoffman this year and so many others before them.

I won’t try to pretend I know anything about severe depression or addiction, but it really saddens me when people look at celebrities and all they see is the manner of their death. Monteith and Hoffman shouldn’t be defined by their addictions, nor Williams by his depression. In the episode “The Quarterback,” Glee’s Kurt Hummel responds to the death of Monteith’s character (and surely speaks for the cast about the actor) by asserting: “Everyone wants to talk about how he died … but who cares? One moment in his whole life. I care more about how he lived.”

I think this line rings very true: The celebrities that we love, who have had an impact on countless lives, deserve to be remembered for how they lived, not the manner in which they died.

The world lost two legends this week, and we’ve lost some great talent just in the past year alone. While it may feel like the world is a little less full without them, they will live on forever in the works they leave behind and in the people they have touched.

And hopefully the tragic deaths of people like Monteith, Hoffman, and Williams will help shine a light on the struggles people face — even those who seem to have it all. Remember: no matter what you’re going through, you are not alone.

outlander101

Outlander adapts time travel, intrigue to small screen

After what seems like centuries — but has really only been decades — Diana Gabaldon’s best-selling novel Outlander has finally been adapted for television. Starz will produce a first season of 16 shows, which will cover the entirety of the first book in this now-eight-book series.

Outlander is a time-traveling romance and adventure that throws traditional concepts of a “romance novel” out the window. The first episode, which aired Saturday, introduced viewers to British citizens Claire Beauchamp Randall and her husband Frank, who have just reunited after World War II. Claire had served as a combat nurse and Frank as a spy in the war.

The couple travels to Inverness, Scotland, where they were married seven years before. Frank is researching his family tree and trying to gather information on a specific ancestor, Jonathan “Black Jack” Randall. Claire, bored by hours spent poring over dusty papers, heads to the Scottish countryside to search for medicinal herbs. While searching for a peculiar blue flower, she comes upon a circle of standing stones. She hears a strange sound and approaches the ancient structure to investigate. Reaching out to touch a stone, Claire is knocked unconscious and awakens, confused and disoriented, some time later.

Even though Claire appears to be on the same hill as before, something seems different. She heads down the hill and back to town; however, on the way, she thinks she has stumbled upon the set of an historical drama, as she is in the middle of a firefight between British soldiers and tartan-clad Scotsmen.

Claire runs away and comes to a stream where a soldier is resting. The soldier stands and turns toward her, and Claire believes, for a moment, that she is looking into the face of her own husband, Frank. Frank it is not, and we soon discover that this soldier is none other than “Black Jack” himself, the very ancestor Frank had been researching. As it turns out, “Black Jack” is not the honorable soldier Frank imagined him to be; Jonathan Randall did not get his nickname for nothing, as his character, so unlike Frank’s, is dark and warped.

Claire realizes that she is not on a movie set but cannot believe she has gone back in time. When Randall demands to know who she is, she gives her maiden name, Claire Beauchamp (pronounced “Bee-chem,” in the English fashion). Scantily clad by the standards of the day, unescorted, and alone, Randall presumes Claire is a French spy and a whore. He begins to assault her, both because he wants information and also for his own twisted pleasure.

Just in time, Claire is rescued (albeit roughly) by one of the Scotsmen. The Scotsmen are suspicious of her, as well, and think she could be an English spy. Until their leader discovers her true origin and purpose, though, he will keep her prisoner, although a protected one.

Among the group of Scots, there is a young man with a dislocated shoulder. As such, he cannot manage his horse, and the group must quickly make a getaway. One of the men volunteers to force the lad’s arm back in the socket. Claire, seeing that the wounded man’s arm will be broken, bids them to stop, and she fixes it in short order. This earns her a bit of respect from the group, but does nothing to allay their suspicions.

The group makes their escape with Claire riding with the young man she has just healed. When Claire looks to Inverness, she notices that she doesn’t see any lights. She asks her new companion where Inverness is, and when he tells her she’s looking right at it, she knows she is no longer in the 20th century.

During their ride, the group approaches an outcropping where Frank told Claire the English of the 18th century would hide in ambush. Claire shares this knowledge with the young man and, sure enough, the British soldiers attack minutes later. The group’s leader, Dougal Mackenzie, demands to know how Claire came by this information and becomes more suspicious about her motives.

Later that night, Claire’s guard falls from his horse, having been injured in the ambush. Claire again comes to the young man’s aid, asking for medical supplies of her time (iodine, merthiolate) and speaking of disinfection and germs. Her references have no meaning to them and the men are further mystified by her crude use of language when she becomes frustrated in her attempts to bandage the wound.

The episode ends with the group’s arrival at Castle Leoch, home to the Clan MacKenzie, and Claire can be sure she is not on a second honeymoon any longer.

So far, the series follows the book relatively closely. There were some editorial embellishments in an attempt, it seems, to make the adaptation a bit more “sexy,” though in my opinion, this is totally unnecessary.

The series is filmed entirely in Scotland, lending the scenery a breath-taking quality. If nothing else, viewers will fall in love with the rugged, albeit wet, landscape.

The producers make use of lighting to draw a distinction between the prosaic, 20th-century life of Claire and Frank as compared to the heart-pounding action of the 18th century. In the more modern-set scenes, the lighting is quite dark. Even those scenes inside houses with electric amenities have a muted, dull feel — think The X-Files. However, the scenes are noticeably brighter when Claire goes back in time. In fact, as soon as Claire awakens after her passage through the stones, the sun is shining. Even the night scenes from the 18th century have a shimmering quality.

The characters are well cast, with Catriona Balfe playing a wonderfully complex version of Claire (though without the voluptuous bosom and amber eyes described in the books). Sam Heughan’s Jamie Fraser, the as-yet-nameless young man who is twice healed by Claire, is swoon-worthy (although I thought he’d be taller!) and conveys Jamie’s strong constitution, quick wit, and sensitive nature with a subtle delivery. Playing both Frank and Jonathan “Black Jack” Randall, Tobias Menzies capably handles Frank’s reserved affection and Black Jack’s barely-concealed villainy.

The second episode of the series airs Saturday at 9 p.m. on Starz. Check back next week for a look at the latest twists and turns from Inverness.

marshall-statue

Hating on Supreme Court has always been American hobby

The Supreme Court of the United States made a poor, unpopular decision, and nobody seems to be happy about it. Questions were immediately raised about changing the makeup of the court and amending the Constitution to fix the justices’ huge error. After all, they are an unelected branch of government and an anomaly in our democracy.

You probably assume I’m referring to the Hobby Lobby decision handed down in June. Well, yes, I could be. Or I could be referring to Citizens United, or the Affordable Care Act decision, or Bush v. Gore. Or Roe v. Wade. Or Brown v. Board. Or Plessy v. Ferguson. Or the Dred Scott case. Or Marbury v. Madison. Really, I could be referring to any controversial case from the Supreme Court’s 225-year history. The results are always the same: one side or the other screams bloody murder.

See, hatred of the Supreme Court isn’t a liberal or conservative position. It’s an American position. Hating the Supreme Court is as American as complaining about apple pie on the Internet. It’s part of our DNA, and it dates back to the beginning. And there is a very good reason for that: it’s what some of the nation’s Founding Fathers wanted. I say some because, as I’ve stated before, the Founders didn’t really agree with each other.

To many of the Founders, the Supreme Court was deemed a necessary part of a strong republic because it offered something unique to the system: a strictly legal check on democratic power. The court’s advocates were men who believed in the rule of the majority, but also the rights of the minority.

Then, as now, of course, the minority didn’t mean the downtrodden or the non-whites; it meant the wealthy. Most of the Founders were quite well-off and understood that an unchecked democracy would immediately target the landed elite and lead to their demise. The wealthy couldn’t have that. To many of them, the three primary rights were John Locke’s life, liberty, and property — not the pursuit of happiness, as Thomas Jefferson, publicist in chief, phrased it in the Declaration of Independence.

In fact, it was Jefferson who was the first American president to question the legitimacy and necessity of the Supreme Court. Despite being one of the wealthiest men in the country at the time, Jefferson was an advocate for greater democracy in the young United States. When Jefferson became president, he wielded his power forcefully, despite his previous objections to executive overreach by his two predecessors, and was able to justify it through his belief that he was representing the will of the people.

The Supreme Court during the Jefferson Administration was headed by Chief Justice John Marshall, an appointee of John Adams, a Federalist, and Jefferson’s cousin. The court of the day was still uncertain of its place in the government, and many men who had been offered seats on the bench turned them down in favor of what we would see today as lesser jobs. In Marbury v. Madison, the court had its opportunity to assert its position as a coequal branch of the U.S. government but had to do so in a way that would not offend the president so much that Jefferson might ignore the ruling.

In the landmark case, Marshall ruled in favor of Jefferson’s State Department, led by James Madison, which had refused to deliver credentials to another Adams appointee, William Marbury. Marshall’s ruling was that Madison had indeed acted illegally, but the State Department didn’t have to follow through with the appointment because the provision of the Judiciary Act of 1789 that allowed Marbury to argue his claim before the Supreme Court was actually unconstitutional. The decision established judicial review and made it clear that even the president and his administration had to live under the rule of law, under the arbitration of the U.S. Supreme Court.

Jefferson was less than enthused. He wrote to Abigail Adams in 1804:

“The Constitution … meant that its coordinate branches should be checks on each other. But the opinion which gives to the judges the right to decide what laws are constitutional and what not, not only for themselves in their own sphere of action but for the Legislature and Executive also in their spheres, would make the Judiciary a despotic branch.”

And while Jefferson was the first president to have an issue with one of Marshall’s decisions, he was not the most famous. That would be Andrew Jackson, who responded to the Chief Justice’s decision to side with the Cherokee by completely ignoring it, leading to the Trail of Tears.

When Marshall died, it was Jackson, ironically, who had the honor of appointing a successor. True to form, Jackson followed the greatest chief justice with probably the worst: Roger Taney. Why was Taney the worst? Well, he made a ruling in a case we know as “Dred Scott.”

You may have heard of Dred Scott, the slave who tried to use the legal system and the Missouri Compromise to gain his freedom. When his case came before the Supreme Court, the justices could have simply decided whether or not Scott was legally bound to his master, but Chief Justice Taney had another idea. Taney wanted to use the case to settle the slavery question once and for all, and he wanted to settle it in favor of slave owners. Taney determined that not only did the federal government have no power to regulate slavery whatsoever, effectively destroying every compromise made since the country’s founding, but that African-Americans, whether slave or free, were not citizens of the United States.

Abraham Lincoln, who was then running for the U.S. Senate against Stephen Douglas, said:

“I have said, in substance, that the Dred Scott decision was, in part, based on assumed historical facts which were not really true … Chief Justice Taney, in delivering the opinion of the majority of the court, insists at great length that negroes were no part of the people who made, or for whom was made, the Declaration of Independence, or the Constitution of the United States.

“On the contrary, Judge Curtis, in his dissenting opinion, shows that in five of the then thirteen states … free negroes were voters, and, in proportion to their numbers, had the same part in making the Constitution that the white people had. He shows this with so much particularity as to leave no doubt of its truth…”

Lincoln was just one of many Americans outraged by the Supreme Court’s incorrect and biased decision. But within eight years, Lincoln would play a huge part in ending slavery in America, and would appoint Taney’s successor as chief justice. With the slaves emancipated through executive means, Lincoln wanted to preempt any questions the court would have about the Emancipation Proclamation and sought to pass a 13th Amendment to the Constitution, guaranteeing the end of slavery in the United States.

In addition to gaining their freedom, black Americans were given citizenship under the 14th Amendment, which also asserted, for the first time, the rights of individual citizens against the governments of the states. New justices on the Supreme Court, particularly John Marshall Harlan, determined that the 14th Amendment incorporated the Bill of Rights onto the states, so that no state government could abridge the rights of free speech, assembly, religion, etc. Before this amendment, if Virginia wanted an established Episcopal Church, the Commonwealth was constitutionally allowed to do so. Despite that intent, in the court’s first opportunities to rule on the new amendment, the Justices decided that, no, the 14th Amendment actually didn’t protect anyone against state governments. Well, except for America’s most valuable people: corporations.

In the Slaughter-House Cases, the court ruled that the “Privileges or Immunities Clause” of the 14th Amendment guaranteed to Americans only the rights offered by national citizenship, not state citizenship. And those rights of national citizenship were very limited. This paved the way for future cases, particularly the Civil Rights Cases, to state that the federal government had no business interfering in the rights of states to discriminate against their own citizens.

The decisions were met with outrage, at least across the north and among Republicans of the time. The 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments, known as the Reconstruction Amendments, were largely deconstructed, except when it came to freedom of contract. While the court claimed it had no power to stop states from discriminating against their own citizens, it did have the power to stop states from trying to regulate their own economies. See, if a business wants to hire someone to work for slave wages, state governments have no right to stop that business — at least according to Lochner v. New York, which saw the court siding with business against people, setting the standard we still see today. So sure, the amendments couldn’t prevent state governments from enacting Jim Crow laws, but they could stop them from enacting minimum wage and maximum workweek laws.

Perhaps the most infuriating thing about these cases is that most are still on the books. The Civil Rights Acts of the Lyndon Johnson Administration had to jump through Constitutional hoops and claim that Congress held the power to enact the new laws under the “Commerce Clause,” as opposed to the 14th Amendment, which is supposed to grant privileges and immunities of citizenship.

Lochner maintained a limited policing power for the federal government and set a precedent that was used by the court to strike down several pieces of New Deal legislation. President Franklin Roosevelt was no fan of the court’s actions, as he made clear in his 1937 State of the Union Address:

“The Judicial branch also is asked by the people to do its part in making democracy successful. We do not ask the Courts to call nonexistent powers into being, but we have a right to expect that conceded powers or those legitimately implied shall be made effective instruments for the common good.”

But following FDR’s landslide reelection victory in 1936, the court’s opinion seemed to change. West Coast Hotel Co. v. Parrish saw two justices alter their usual judicial stance and allow a Washington state minimum wage law to remain in effect. Many believe the two justices made the change in order to prevent Roosevelt from enacting his so-called “court-packing plan,” which called for the membership of the Supreme Court to change from nine to 15.

Essentially, FDR was the first President since Jackson to successfully counter the Supreme Court, and he did it without using Jackson’s hilariously illegal means of just ignoring them. But the Supreme Court is supposed to be a bit antagonistic toward the president and Congress. It exists to balance out the power of the government so that even those who write and execute the laws are subject to them. And the president and the Senate get a say in who serves on the court in the first place.

Of course, presidential appointments don’t usually change judicial philosophies of the court overnight. In fact, the idea of lifetime appointments was that the previous generation of leaders would continue to hold some sway over the current. These appointees would last for about a generation before the president could choose a replacement. Ronald Reagan, however, changed the game by appointing very young justices to the court, allowing his appointments to affect American law for much longer than had been standard. His successors have followed the pattern, with George W. Bush’s appointment for chief justice, John Roberts, being young enough to almost guarantee him another two decades at the court’s head.

And the Roberts Court continues the long-held American tradition of frustrating a large percentage of the population. Ultimately, the court is a good thing, but it is easy to see why people are calling for changes in the system. Citizens United and the Hobby Lobby case have opened the floodgates to potentially dangerous changes in American governance. Or, they could be what finally causes some things in the country to change for the better. Only time will tell.

But until then, don’t be shocked the next time the Supreme Court does something that you find infuriating. After all, it is what (some of) the Founders intended.

groot-rocket

Guardians: ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ Marvel can do it all

I have a confession to make. I’ve proclaimed my love for all that is Marvel in this column on more than one occasion. I’ve shared how my original doubts over Chris Evanscasting as Captain America were proved wrong, and how the television series Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. took a while to get off the ground but reached a late-season greatness that was definitely worth the wait.

But I must confess, despite all this evidence that Marvel knows what it’s doing when it comes to bringing comics to the silver screen (and Marvel is much more successful than Fox or Sony), I still had serious doubts when it came to bringing to life a trigger-happy raccoon and a walking, (sort of) talking tree. I’ve never actually read a Guardians of the Galaxy comic, but I know there are some things that work in comics that just can’t translate well to the screen, and I was worried this would be the case with Rocket and Groot.

I also had some doubts about Chris Pratt as a lead. I love Pratt — I’ve been a fan since his days on Everwood — but like Evans when he was cast as Captain America, Pratt was still very much untested as a protagonist. He has appeared as a supporting character in several films, but he is best known as goofy-yet-lovable Andy Dwyer on NBC’s Parks and Recreation. I wasn’t sure how he would go from that role to action star.

Another concern I had was with the movie itself. I had heard this was going to be unlike any other Marvel film, with a lot more humor. One of the things I love about the Marvel films is the way they use humor — it’s always just the right amount to balance the action. But would a funnier action film be good? I was a little worried they would cross the line over into slapstick and ruin the integrity of the franchise.

Plus, when you look at writer/director James Gunn‘s list of credits, you’ll see nothing of the caliber of a Marvel film. Like Pratt, Gunn is still rather untested in an arena this large, and I was concerned with how that might affect this film.

Amid all these concerns I was having about the film, while I was debating whether this was going to be a train wreck or the most awesome Marvel movie yet (because I had a feeling it was going to be either one or the other), the first trailer for the film was released.

To say that trailer made me a believer is probably an understatement. I think I fell in love with Pratt’s Peter Quill the moment he realized the name “Star Lord” meant nothing to his assailants. But I really knew this film had potential as soon as I heard “Hooked on a Feeling.”

Overall, this trailer ranks pretty high on my list of favorite trailers ever. (Please tell me someone else has one of those lists, too.) It also completely changed my mind about the prospects for the film. The trailer sets the tone of the movie and lets you know this isn’t going to be anything like the other Marvel productions. But it also proves that Rocket and Groot can work in a live-action film. I can’t even count how many times I watched that trailer or each subsequent teaser and trailer, but from that first glimpse on, I was counting down to the film’s release.

Last Thursday, I made plans to see Guardians in IMAX 3D with some friends, and I could barely contain my excitement. I surprised myself with how much my opinion of this film had changed in just six months. I was even more excited to discover that the film completely lives up to the hype.

I knew this was going to be a great movie before the opening credits were even finished; like the trailer, the credit sequence really set the tone for the entire film and let you know what you can expect. I loved all the ’80s references (Garbage Pail Kids! Troll Dolls! Footloose!) and the ’80s soundtrack was perfect. But it’s not all lighthearted and full of laughs — there are a couple tearjerker scenes, including one right at the beginning of the movie.

However, overall, the film is the perfect blend of hilarity and action. It is, by far, the funniest of the Marvel films, but it’s done in just the right way. At no point did it become too cheesy that the comedy took me out of the film. It has just the right amount of everything to make this the perfect summer movie — and really fun to watch.

In contrast to my reservations, Pratt is wonderful as Peter Quill, aka Star Lord. I had been binge-watching Parks and Recreation throughout the summer and was worried I would have trouble distinguishing between Quill and Andy, but I quickly discovered that wasn’t an issue at all. Pratt holds his own among a terrific cast and was an excellent choice for the role. I was also really impressed with part-time WWE performer Dave Bautista as Drax the Destroyer. He brought a lot of heart to the character, and I really enjoyed his portrayal.

Another stand-out performance, in my opinion, came from Karen Gillan as Nebula. Most fan*s are likely familiar with the actress as the Eleventh Doctor’s companion, Amy Pond. In Guardians, we see a whole new side to the actress’ talent. I’ve always like Gillan but was very impressed with her as Nebula, and I have a feeling she has a bright future ahead of her.

However, it was the characters I was originally most dubious about that ended up stealing every scene they were in. I absolutely loved Rocket and Groot. The CGI was done very well, and the characters were so expressive, you could almost forget they were animated. The entire cast (and movie) were fantastic, but I really think Rocket and Groot were my favorite parts.

There isn’t much else I can say about Guardians of the Galaxy that hasn’t already been said in hundreds of other reviews. As Marvel’s first film that is set almost entirely in space, it greatly expands the MCU as we know it, and it does this very successfully. I cannot wait for a future team-up between the Guardians and the Avengers (assuming the rumors are true and Avengers 3 features a version of the Infinity Gauntlet storyline, which, given the reference to the Stones in Thor: The Dark World and again in Guardians, seems likely). I’m already imagining Tony Stark’s comments about Rocket and Groot.

I may have been skeptical at first, but after seeing what the company did with Guardians, I will never again doubt Marvel’s ability to produce great films. Now that Phase Two is nearly over, I can’t wait to see what they have in store for us in Phase Three, and I can’t wait until the Guardians of the Galaxy return.

summer-reading

Round out summer with easy-reading presidential history

Reading history books is tough. Even the most voracious readers often find it difficult to dive into a history. History books have a tendency to be overly academic, and even fans of the subject may have a difficult time with these works. What follows is a list of presidential biographies that are mostly easy to read and teach history in a way that is simple to follow. These authors turn their revered subjects into human beings, complete with flaws, problems, and goals.


American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House by Jon Meacham

Andrew Jackson is a pretty controversial president, and Jon Meacham captures perfectly the profound, contradictory nature of the nation’s seventh chief executive. Jackson is credited for expanding the very scope of democracy, yet he ruled with an iron fist, spit in the face of the Supreme Court, and owned slaves. He was a rough, rugged, angry, and vicious man who could also shake hands and behave cordially with the elites of Washington. Jackson is known for forcefully removing the Cherokee from their lands, yet he adopted a native boy as his son. He hated violently, and he loved sincerely.

Meacham displays the contradictions of Jackson’s personality and the drama that defined him by dividing the book into chapters based on each soap-operatic episode of the man’s life. You are able to more easily understand Old Hickory’s nature by learning about his courtship and loss of his wife, Rachel, his feud and friendship with Thomas Hart Benton, the Peggy Eaton affair that led to the resignation of Jackson’s entire cabinet, the fight over the National Bank, and his vicious, personal disputes with John Quincy Adams, Henry Clay, and John C. Calhoun.

Meacham’s American Lion is a great read that displays the evolution of a nation through the lens of the life of one controversial man — a man who lived through the American Revolution and died trying to prevent a Civil War.


Lincoln at Gettysburg: The Words That Remade America by Garry Wills

Lincoln at Gettysburg is a much more intellectually challenging book than the rest on this list, but it is an important one to recommend. The book is short but dense, so take your time when reading this work.

Garry Wills sets out to explain the historical, political, philosophical, and even literary context of Abraham Lincoln’s famous speech on a hallowed Pennsylvania battleground. You will learn the influences on Lincoln’s mind, from Daniel Webster to Ralph Waldo Emerson, as well as his intentions when making the Address: Lincoln’s goal was to change the purpose of the war, to reclaim the Union’s status as righteous warriors from a Confederacy that was close to gaining help from European powers. And while Lincoln’s short speech was actually right in line with what was expected of him, it achieved a level of notoriety that revolutionized American literature and set the stage for writers like Mark Twain.

Wills makes you think harder about a speech that many Americans know snippets of without understanding the meaning behind the words. The book ties together 100 years of American history in dissecting a single 272-word speech by viewing it from every angle. The reading is demanding but also enlightening and incredibly satisfying.


Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President by Candice Millard

When concocting a list of the most interesting presidents, few would rank James A. Garfield among the Top 30. But that is almost exclusively due to his short time as the nation’s leader. Candice Millard does a masterful job of explaining the story of Garfield’s presidency and its abrupt end at the hands of an assassin, making it a much more compelling tale than any history class has been able to tell.

Garfield, more than perhaps any other commander in chief, is a victim of boring history classes. To many, he is just a name in a list of 44 presidents. And Millard even highlights this fact to capture the true tragedy of the nation’s second presidential assassination: Garfield just didn’t have enough time to make a real impact. The assassin Charles Guiteau’s pulling of the trigger robbed us of a good man with good intentions who could have gone down in history as one of America’s greats.

This book is not just about Garfield. It is just as much a book about Guiteau and Alexander Graham Bell. They were all men on a mission: Garfield is determined to end the spoils system and the corruption running rampant in the government. Guiteau is on a mission to gain a government post, which he believes he deserves for a single speech in which he praised candidate Garfield — and when he is not awarded the job, he begins a new mission: to end the president’s life. Bell’s mission is to save the life of the president by quickly inventing an early version of the metal detector to track the bullet that came from Guiteau’s gun barrel; Garfield stays alive long enough for Bell to use his invention, but due to the doctor’s arrogance and monarchical control of the situation, Bell is unable to find the bullet.

Garfield’s America was in a state of change, and much like Meacham’s American Lion, Destiny of the Republic displays the country’s tremendous technological advances on display at the end of a presidency: Jackson was the first president to leave office in a train, and Garfield was the first president who could have been saved by modern science, including antisepsis, which was gaining popularity in other countries at the time.


The President and the Assassin: McKinley, Terror, and Empire at the Dawn of the American Century by Scott Miller

Much like Millard does with Garfield, Scott Miller makes President William McKinley interesting by framing his life alongside his assassin and the popular figures of the era. Unlike Guiteau, who was driven by madness, McKinley’s assassin, Leon Czolgosz, was driven by philosophy — and very much understood what he was doing by killing the president.

McKinley’s presidency marked many significant changes in America, including the end of non-intervention as U.S. foreign policy, the beginning of the American empire, and the expanse of American trade around the globe — all a result of the Spanish-American War. While the book doesn’t apologize for McKinley’s actions as president, it does explain them in a way that shows McKinley as a conflicted character who honestly believed he was doing what was best for the country and the world.

Czolgosz’s path is fascinating as well, as Miller looks at a man who truly believed in anarchism and set out to bring the world closer to that ideal. In many ways, Miller leads you to better understand Czolgosz and his crusade in an almost sympathetic light: McKinley was the president of the moneyed interests in the time of the robber barons, and his death did lead to the presidency of Theodore Roosevelt, who instituted sweeping reforms aimed at helping the middle and working classes. Certainly, killing the president was the wrong course, but Czolgosz’s actions really underscore the growing sentiments of the working class at the time.


1920: The Year of the Six Presidents by David Pietrusza

Want to learn about several presidents all at once? The Year of Six Presidents tells the story of, well, seven presidents. Six of them — Theodore Roosevelt, Woodrow Wilson, Warren G. Harding, Calvin Coolidge, Herbert Hoover, and Franklin D. Roosevelt — competed for the presidency in 1920, and a seventh, William Howard Taft, was awaiting the opportunity to join the Supreme Court.

David Pietrusza takes you on a journey through the lives of all seven men as they rise to greatness and attain their respective presidencies. Along the way, you will learn about the flaws and neuroses of each president, like Harding’s love for women and Teddy Roosevelt’s belief that everybody but him did a poor job as president.

Adding to the intriguing tale are the era’s defining issues, including Prohibition, the League of Nations, and women’s suffrage, with the election of 1920 being the first time in American history that women had the right to vote in all 48 states.

Pietrusza tells of Teddy Roosevelt, who was an early favorite to return to the Executive Mansion but died a year before the election; Wilson, who was suffering after a stroke but, as the incumbent, was certain he would win a precedent-breaking third term; and Hoover, who was riding a wave of popularity following his actions in Belgium during World War I but would not be able to secure his party’s nomination until 1928. Pietrusza tells the tale of 1920’s ultimate victors, the unlikely candidates Warren G. Harding and his running mate and successor Calvin Coolidge, along with their vanquished opponents, Al Smith and his running mate, the future president Franklin D. Roosevelt.

All seven Presidents featured in this book get their stories told, and all seven certainly seem more human when Pietrusza is done.


If you’re looking for some good reads that you’ll find both interesting and educational, check out these five books, read Lincoln’s twice, and see just how incredible — and flawed — these historical demigods really were.