The acting, for one thing, is excellent. The much-maligned Shia LaBeouf didn’t seem any more out of place in the suit and tie of a young Wall Street hotshot any more than Charlie Sheen did in the original, Michael Douglas is consistently excellent, and Carey Mulligan had great chemistry with both men. A lot of the economic and political commentary was pretty spot-on, especially given the backdrop of the late-00s Wall Street-driven economic downturn.

The thing is, that actually gets us right into one of the film’s biggest flaws. The film keeps dancing around this political commentary, building anticipation… and then it just doesn’t do anything with it. And that’s really a microcosm of the film as a whole. It tricks you into thinking it’s going to be a good film with interesting dialogue and character interaction, and before you know it you’re 90 minutes into the film wondering what happened.

The most damning thing about this film is the ending, though. It’s so abrupt that I was actually pretty astonished when the credits started rolling. The way the film was paced, I honestly thought there was at least another half an hour of film left.

It’s lazy to call this an “unnecessary sequel” and leave it at that, but it’s in the ending that anyone who loved the original Wall Street (1987) can see the stark difference. Where the original’s ending had an almost physical impact, representing a fitting payoff to the escalating tension that had carried the film’s entire narrative, the sequel’s seems tacked on and lackluster.

This is a disappointing film not merely because it’s a mediocre followup to a universally acclaimed film, but because it follows a film that really had something to say with one that had nothing to say. And it’s all the more disappointing because the atmosphere this film established at times would’ve been a spectacular environment for a film that actually had something to say about that environment.

Unlike a lot of people, I actually liked the first Silent Hill, but I just can’t find a lot to redeem this one. Perhaps more frustrating, it wasn’t even bad in interesting ways, it was just pretty boring and frustrating.

You know what a Silent Hill (or, really, any horror franchise) film probably shouldn’t be? Bland. It shouldn’t be bland. And that’s exactly what this film was. I’m not going to waste my time or your time trying to find something interesting to say about this film when there just isn’t anything.

Such was the case when I watched The Princess Diaries. It’s not really news that I enjoyed this film: I fully expected to. What surprised me was how much I enjoyed it. I mean, sure: I already looked at Anne Hathaway like a kind of goddess before seeing this and The Devil Wears Prada (the fact that I enjoyed her work enough to consider myself a fan without having seen either of these two films baffled quite a few people). But we’re talking about a Disney film about an awkward teenage girl discovering she’s actually a princess, in which a major plot point is her going through a serious makeover. We really don’t think there’s any chance this could’ve turned out to be pretty insulting on more than a few levels?

Thing is, the film’s resolution involves Mia (Hathaway) giving a speech to a group of dignitaries and journalists while wearing a hoody and soaking wet from rain, and the world doesn’t end. So yes, we do get the oddly specific trope of Anne Hathway starting a film as “unattractive” (in a very Hollywood-friendly definition), being given a total makeover, and then having everyone gawk (“Anne Hathway is attractive? How far-fetched!”), but the film takes great pains to make clear that being a princess is about a great deal more than looking pretty and having impeccable table manners.

As a quick aside: I call the Anne Hathaway makeover thing a trope because it seriously happens in half of her movies. Two questions spring to mind. 1) Does no one else have serious suspension of disbelief issues here? I mean, it’s Anne Hathaway. She doesn’t ever not look good. 2) How incredible would it be if they had pulled this trope of in The Dark Knight Rises?

Now, there are some easy criticisms about this film that I’m going to gloss over quickly, because I don’t think they really deserve anyone’s focus, but I know if I don’t mention them at all someone’s going to say, “Hold on a second! How can you say this was an excellent film? You didn’t even mention [irrelevant detail]!” So here we go.

Yes, the film deals with the rather important detail that hereditary leadership is inherently unfair with a throwaway line by a nameless reporter about Mia “Winning the genetic lottery.” (Honestly, how much would you complain if your queen were Julie Andrews and Anne Hathaway was next in line? That’s what I thought.) Yes, the Baronness who would inherit the crown if Mia refused it is given like three lines in the entire film and we are given absolutely no reason to think that would be a bad thing other than the fact that she seems pretty generically unpleasant and spiteful for no apparent reason.

But do you know who cares about those things? … well, plenty of people, I’m sure. But not me. This film is about Mia. It’s about her growing, making mistakes, making choices, and finding out who she is. You know what’s a pretty darn good backdrop for that? Being crowned a princess. It gives a sort of dramatic flourish that most films for young girls are only able to achieve by having her end up with a man. (Yes, she does dance with a boy at the same ball, but that is not the dramatic focus of the scene. Mia’s triumph is her own.)

It’s no surprise that Julie Andrews and Anne Hathaway were brilliant (though the latter was a surprise at the time as it was her film debut), but you know absolutely almost stole the show at times? Hector Elizondo as Mia’s chaffeur, Joe. His career has mostly consisted of voice acting roles and guest appearances on various critically-acclaimed television series, but he was absolutely perfect here. His attitude was part of the overall freshness of the film.

The sequel, The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement (2004) was honestly more of the same, but with the added bonus of an antagonist played by John Rhys-Davies (yes, really) and a brilliant film debut for Chris Pine. Wow, this series was exception at discovering big time future talent. Whoever did the casting for these films should probably do the casting for… well, everything.

The central plot ends up focusing on an outmoded law that in order to be queen, a female heir must marry. This sets up a cat and mouse game between Mia and Nicholas (Pine), who it turns out is the next male in line. I won’t spoil the ending, but I will say that the film does avoid the most predictable resolution this plot suggests (having Hathaway marry Pine), and all the potentially troubling implications this could entail.

The sequel might feel a bit repetitive to some, given that it follows many of the same dramatic beats, but it definitely goes new places. Mia continues to grow and, really, show off how exceptional she is and why she ought to be queen. There are plenty of fun moments, plenty of serious moments… pretty much everything that worked in the first film works here.

What really struck me about both Princess Diaries films was just how pleasant they were to watch. They were relaxing and uplifting, but that didn’t stop them from being engaging. If you unironically use “chick flick” as a pejorative term, you should probably see these films as soon as practically possible. (And, you know, stop doing that.) They’re definitely chick flicks. And they’re definitely well-written, well-made, life-affirming, and pretty much everything that film should be.

1991. The Cold War ends. Remarkably, without the United States being invaded by Russia.

2009. Development begins on a remake of Red Dawn, not involving Milius or Reynolds.

2010. John Milius begins writing a script for a video game based on a Chinese invasion of the United States.

2011. Homefront is released, but due to pressure from the Chinese Ministry of Culture the game’s antagonists are changed to a unified Korea.

2012. The Red Dawn remake is released. In a remarkable coincidence, the Chinese antagonists are replaced by North Korea.

Honestly? The story of the development of these two movies and one video game are probably dramatically more interesting than the movies or game themselves. Can we just stop there? No. Fine. If you don’t want to take my word for it, let’s… dive right in.

Red Dawn (1984)
We see an introductory text explaining how the United States has become increasingly isolated while the unstoppable Russian juggernaut takes almost all of Europe without firing a single shot. (Hey, did I mention that Russia was actually collapsing economically at the time? And that the United States was putting their economic foot on Russia’s throat? No? Because that was totally happening!) We also find out that a communist coup happens in Mexico… for some reason.

We open at a high school on one fine morning in rural… no, suburban… no, rural… no… ruralurban Colorado. The vague setting couldn’t possibly be a cheap attempt to get the audience to relate to the film no matter where they lived, though, right? Anyway, for some reason an invasion force lands and starts shooting up a high school. Because that makes perfect strategic sense.

Don’t worry, though! We quickly find that the Russians are not the only antagonists. They’re accompanied by Cuban allies. Why? Because having to constantly have your antagonists use Russian accents so you can differentiate them from “normal” white people can get grating, so you want to make sure you have some brown people who yell in Spanish to shoot at, too. The commander also sends one of his people to a local sporting goods store to obtain records of gun ownership in the city so they can round up anyone who owns a gun. Because no right-wing paranoia exploitation-fest would be complete without proof that gun regulation is bad news!

Okay, I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I need to step outside of this narrative. Later in the film we’re going to learn that Russia has nuked Washington D.C. and several other strategic targets and taken the western third and eastern third of the United States, leaving only the middle third unoccupied. With this much territory under their control, how in the hell do they have this much time and attention to devote to what seems to be a strategically unimportant town full of blue collar “aw shucks” type folks?

We see them applying pressure to their mayor (Lane Smith), who seems to exist completely for the sake of showing us that collaborators are bad. Actually, everything we see the Russians doing seems to be to hammer home the point that they’re very, very evil, but makes very little strategic sense. We see them setting up reeducation camps and executing civilians. Again… why? They’ve taken two thirds of the country, including Los Angeles and New York. Yeah: as far as we know they didn’t nuke Los Angeles or New York. Just Washington, D.C. (makes sense), Kansas City (… huh?) and Omaha (???). With so much territory under their control, why are they bothering with this random town of no obvious strategic value? Then again, they nuked Kansas City and Omaha, so maybe they’re just really bad at reading maps.

Since we don’t have enough things that don’t make sense, Patrick Swayze and Charlie Sheen (I’m not going to bother with their names) form a group of resistance fighters. They name themselves the “Wolverines” after their high school sports teams (yep), and 75% of their dialogue for the rest of the film is screaming, “Wolverines!” while firing wildly.

There’s some really uneven and poorly-paced cat-and-mouse games with the Russians. An American Air Force pilot (Powers Boothe) crashes at one point and joins up with them for a while. He mostly seems there to give the aforementioned report about how the war is going. Ostensibly he gives them some advice on tactics, but there isn’t any noticeable change between how the Wolverine’s operate before he shows up and after. Around this part of the film the script also decides it’s time to work in some vague anti-war messages about how “war is hell” and all that, which is pretty odd considering this film was about a manufactured war that basically serves as an extended commercial for a Cold War that was in its death throes. There’s also an attempt to humanize one of the Cuban commanders (Ron O’Neal) toward the end of the film which comes completely out of nowhere and doesn’t accomplish much. And… that’s pretty much that.

It isn’t even just that the Russians’ actions make absolutely no logical sense other than “evil for the sake of evil.” It’s that the film just isn’t very entertaining or pleasant to watch. The only part I enjoyed was the initial invasion, and that was just laughing at the sheer absurdity of it. (“We will take your high schools! What will you do then!” “Look on with fear, puny Americans! We blow up your cars!”) The rest of the film was a clumsy attempt to shoehorn as many war clichés as possible into what was essentially a propaganda film, and it wasn’t even a very good attempt at that.

Look. I’m sorry to sound dismissive, but this film didn’t take its audience seriously, so why should I take it seriously?

Homefront (2011)
As the only “current gen” system I’m blessed with is a Wii (and that really doesn’t even count), I wasn’t able to play the game on my own. Instead, I watched playthrough videos on YouTube. So I can’t comment on the gameplay aspects of the game (from the looks of things, they were adequate but hardly remarkable), but my focus is on the story anyway.

So. We get an opening sequence featuring some truly awful dubbing of stock footage of Hillary Clinton (Is she supposed to be President? Vice President? Secretary of State? Who knows! We don’t, because the game never tells us!) and some news footage featuring North Korea conquering South Korea (pretty implausible), Japan (okay, what?), and then detonating a nuke in orbit to knock out the entire American power grid. They proceed to conquer over half of the United States and irridiate the Mississippi river to divide the country in half.

We then move from video cutscene to gameplay cutscene. Oh, hey, look at that! The game takes place in Colorado, which is also the setting of Red Dawn. How… cute. Your character is almost immediately roughed up by some Korean soldiers and then taken on a guided tour through the occupation zone on a prisoner bus. What follows is actually a more extreme version of how the Russians treated civilians in Red Dawn as you see civilians being rounded up and dragged off, or shot in the streets, all for no apparent reason. Once again, logic is simply waved away in favor of “look how evil they are!” (Then again, what did you expect from a game that opens by explaining that North Korea has conquered nearly all of Asia and then successfully invaded America?)

In case you couldn’t tell, there’s another prisoner on the bus to helpfully inform you over and over that what you’re seeing is very, very bad. Fortunately, your bus is blown up and you escape. Let’s play our game!

One of the most common criticisms I’ve heard of this game is that it was “too short,” and I have to say that’s actually probably one of the most merciful things about the game. I mean, yeah, that keeps it from being impressive… but was there any serious danger of it being that? To me, the game’s length mostly results in less… bad.

Your character runs along playing good little resistance soldier as you discover all kinds of lovely horrors–a school being used as a labor camp, a baseball field being used as a mass grave, a town being slaughtered… you get the picture.

So yeah, basically? Red Dawn on steroids in the form of a short, mediocre video game whose main defining feature is how incredibly offensive and ridiculous it is.

Oh, want to know the best part? Even though the developer that made it went bankrupt, someone actually bothered buying out the rights to this trash and there’s going to be a sequel. Ick.

Red Dawn (2012)
Okay. So this paranoia-fest of a franchise has one last chance to deliver an at least mildly entertaining piece of media. (Other than the surely hotly-anticipated Homefront sequel, that is.) How’d it do?

Look, I’m not going to sit here and argue that the 2012 version of Red Dawn is a good film. Because it isn’t. But I would go so far as to describe it as “reasonably competent,” which is more than I can say about either the 1984 film or the related 2011 video game.

Yes, the antagonists are never given any clear motivation for their invasion and the audience is somewhat forced to supply that motivation in the form of modern anxieties about the nation in question. But the invasion itself at least makes a lick of sense. Our setting is actually a fairly major city (Spokane, the second largest city in Washington), so it makes at least a bit of sense that they’d commit quite a few resources to its occupation. The few war crime-level atrocities that are shown are relevant to the plot, unlike in the 1984 film when they shoot up a high school for no apparent reason or the game where they round up people and shoot them in the street just to give us the atmosphere of an Evil Enemy committing Evil Acts because They Are Evil.

Then again, is it really better to have an enemy with no apparent motivation than one whose motivation is Because We’re Evil? The latter is certainly more offensive, which makes this film somewhat more watchable… yet it also makes it somewhat less interesting.

From a technical standpoint, this film has some pretty glaring flaws. Both its beginning and ending feel incredibly rushed, which isn’t particularly forgivable in a 93-minute film that could’ve easily been longer. There’s a pretty transparent attempt to cram the film’s entire exposition into about thirty seconds of dialogue with all of the main characters at a bar after a football game. There’s also a pretty forced romantic subplot between our protagonist (Chris Hemsworth) and the girl who provides a lot of the exposition in that bar scene (Adrianne Palicki). When it comes to our two lead brothers, Hemsworth is a dramatic improvement while Josh Peck is a major step down. He gets better as the film goes on, but his first few scenes are so brutal I really don’t understand how they made it into the finished film.

If the film has one redeeming quality, it’s that it accidentally makes its viewers think. Hemsworth at one point makes a reference to the fact that in the conflicts he’s been involved in as a soldier, his side has been “the good guys” enforcing order while guerrilla “bad guys” tried to cause chaos. His takeaway from this is that he and his ragtag group of rebels are now the “bad guys.” Of course, he pairs this observation with the fact that fighting for your homes and freedom makes a lot more sense than any of the wars he’s been involved in in the past.

Thing is? I don’t think he has the “good guys/bad guys” dynamic quite right. I think it’s pretty telling that in order to have a film that’s unambiguously comfortable with American patriotism, Red Dawn essentially had to put America in the place of America’s military enemies in every armed conflict of the last few decades. I’m not sure if it was the film’s intent to provoke debate on this topic, but at least it’s something.

Although infinitely more watchable than its original incarnation, the 2012 version of Red Dawn is still really not a successful film. I’m not going to spoil the ending, but there’s a “shock value” event after you think the main action of the film is over, which leads to a Hollywood ending the film didn’t really earn. It’s still dramatically superior to the original film’s ending, but it’s better in the same sense that the rest of the film is: bland is superior to incredibly stupid, but only just so.

These aren’t coincidences. I’ve decided to narrow the focus of this blog to writing reviews. I still might post the occasional interesting article about queer issues or something incredible that happens in the world of sports, but by and large what you’re going to see here from now on are reviews. Those are honestly what I enjoy writing the most, and what I think I’m the best at due to my academic background.

Could we cram a few more clichés in there? How about an emotionally distant, strict, traditionally masculine father? Oh, we got that one? Sweet. Can we pair him with a sympathetic but powerless mother? Okay, good. And, let’s see… a really shallow sister who can’t stand her brother because he’s so, like, whatever? Okay, sounds like we’re all set.

The film reveals Norman’s gift in a pretty clever way, having him watch TV with his grandmother, who it turns out has been dead for quite some time. It’s a very understated way of going about it. We then see him happily greeting people on the street that no one else can see. Most of his encounters with ghosts are of this nature.

Things take a dramatic turn, however, when Norman’s uncle passes away and he inherits the responsibility of protecting the town from a witch’s curse. This is actually when things start to get interesting. Norman decides that the solution that has been used for the past few hundred years isn’t good enough, and that he needs to do something that “no one else has done before.”

Actually, the entire sequence with Norman facing the witch is brilliantly animated, and heightened by an effective soundtrack. Norman makes good on his promise to do something “no one else has ever done before,” breaking the cycle of misery and demonstrating incredible empathy and maturity in the process.

This film successfully avoids becoming buried under all the clichés it sets itself up for by taking those cliches and making something new out of them. Ultimately, this film ends up having interesting things to say about themes like tolerance, being yourself, and all that familiar touchy-feely stuff.

Honestly? I was perhaps expecting a bit more from something that quite a few people were calling the best animated feature of the year (2012, that is). But it was smart, charming, well-written, well-animated… well-everythinged. While it may not be busting into the canon of animated features (but consider the exceptional quality that already exists there), I have no problem recommending it.

You might be asking yourself, what do these awards have in common? Well, they’re the minimum of what I would’ve voted for Cloud Atlas for.

That I didn’t have that opportunity wasn’t only owing to the fact that I am not a member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, but also because Cloud Atlas, despite being one of the most original, most ambitious films I’ve seen in my entire life, was not nominated for a single one of those categories. Or any other category, for that matter.

It has been suggested that Cloud Atlas is a racist film. I’ve discussed that particular irony previously. It’s a pretty lazy accusation, one that relies entirely on either not having seen the film or having seen the film but chosen not to engage one’s eyes or one’s mind. The entire point of the film is having characters from different lifetimes cross ethnic and gender boundaries, to show that all of us–every single one of us–is connected. That everyone, everything, is dependent upon each other. Does that sound racist to you?

That this film was likely shut out to avoid “offending” anyone is what really galls me. Let me tell you what offends me.

What offends me is celebrating mediocrity.

What offends me is that Silver Linings Playbook was nominated in eight categories (eight!), even Snow White and the Huntsman was nominated for two, and Cloud Atlas wasn’t nominated for a single one.

What offends me is that we really ought to change the name of the “Best Animated Feature” Award to the Pixar Award.

What offends me is that last year’s Best Picture winner was probably the least memorable film of the year. (Did you even see it? If you did, did it entertain you in some new and thrilling way? Did it make you think any original thoughts? Did it make you think at all?) That the winner the year before had only one exception quality: acting. (Last I checked, they give out awards for that separately.)

I was under the impression that the function of the Academy Awards was recognizing and promoting great art. How do you expect people to take your art form seriously when you keep celebrating mediocrity, when films that take absolutely no creative risks are the ones that are glorified?

There were a few things that made me genuinely happy. Anne Hathaway deserved an Oscar. Maybe this wasn’t the “right” film for it, but damn it, she deserved one, and these awards are so broken that I really don’t care which film she gets it for as long as she got it. Adele’s “Skyfall” for Best Original Song? Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes. And I absolutely would’ve given Lincoln Best Production Design and Best Actor. (I probably would’ve thrown in Best Costume Design, but you take what you can get.)

And probably the award I was most happy about? Django Unchained for Best Original screenplay. I can honestly say I didn’t see that one coming, because that film took risks, and as we’ve seen we don’t like to reward that kind of thing around here. I mean, we’re talking about art. That doesn’t have anything to do with taking risks, right?

Look. I know this isn’t the end of the world. I know this won’t matter in ten years, when Cloud Atlas is on every “movie nerd’s” shelf, and conversations like this happen: “Huh. It didn’t win anything? Really? Well, those things are so political.” And I genuinely take solace in that fact. But damn it, if we’re going to have a big public spectacle whose ostensible purpose is to recognize art, can we please, pretty please with sugar on top, figure out a way to make this an evaluation of art?

In my previous article, I outlined what I saw as the major reasons for the success of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. Taking a cue from the show’s “Elements of Harmony,” I called these the Elements of Production. One of these was the Element of Characters, which I will be discussing today.

In the very first episode of the series (“Friendship Is Magic” parts 1 and 2), we are introduced to Twilight Sparkle, brightest pupil of Princess Celestia. Although My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic is very much an ensemble affair, it would be fair to say that Twilight is the closest thing to a “main character” the show has.

Twilight is sent away from Canterlot to learn about the magic of friendship in a smaller town called Ponyville. In a move likely to endear her to much of the show’s audience, Twilight is initially much more interested in books than friends. However, the very first lesson she learns is how valuable the aid of a few close friends can be, and the format of the series finds her learning lessons about friendship in each successive episode and writing to Princess Celestia about her experiences.

As I alluded to in my previous article, one of the distinct strengths of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic is that it features well-rounded characters. Our primary protagonist is no exception. Twilight’s strengths are pretty immediately apparent. She is studious and dedicated, incredibly intelligent, and very gifted when it comes to magical power. It initially seems that her biggest opportunity for growth is going to be a somewhat reclusive nature, but she actually overcomes this fairly quickly.

As we get to know Twilight better, we find one source of conflict in her character in the double-edged nature of one of her biggest strengths: how organized she is. This trait is first made explicit in “Winter Wrap Up.” Twilight’s new friends are all busy preparing for a really important event, and Twilight finds herself with nothing to do. But when preparations begin to break down, Twilight is able to step in and use her organizational skills to help keep everything going smoothly.

On the other hand, in the second season episodes “Lesson Zero” and “It’s About Time,” Twilight’s mastery of and dedication to organization shows its other side: extreme anxiety. In “Lesson Zero,” Twilight finds that she has nothing to write a letter to Princess Celestia about and becomes more and more anxious until she reaches a breaking point. In “It’s About Time,” Twilight forgets to schedule time for scheduling (yes, you actually just read that) and, after receiving a visit from her future self in what appears to be a post-apocalyptic scenario, starts a chain reaction of events that leads to her going back in time to give herself the message in the first place.

In both cases, it’s Twilight’s extreme need to have everything “just right” that causes the episode’s conflict. There are definitely smaller examples throughout the series, but these are the two episodes that showcase this part of her personality.

In other areas, however, Twilight ends up being much more level-headed than her friends. she’s the only pony who gives Princess Luna a chance in “Luna Eclipsed,” and similarly is the only one not irrationally afraid of Zecora in “Bridle Gossip.”

While Twilight ends up becoming great friends with the other five ponies who will form what’s popularly referred to as the “Mane Six,” the friend she starts the series with is a young dragon servant/sidekick named Spike. Spike’s most immediately-apparent strength is his loyalty to Twilight, and later to all of the Mane Six. He also has a massive crush on Rarity, which is especially apparent in episodes like “A Dog and Pony Show” and “Secret of My Excess.”

This quality of Spike’s serves as the conflict in the season three episode “Spike at Your Service,” when Spike feels he owes his life to Applejack and insists on “helping” her whenever possible. The problem comes when Spike actually lacks the practical skills to help Applejack with many of her tasks, and consequently his “help” ends up causing more harm than good.

Another strong aspect of Spike’s character is his dragon nature. This manifests itself in two main ways. One is in a strong desire to learn more about what it means to be a dragon, as demonstrated in the second season episode “Dragon Quest.” In this episode Spike is peer pressured by several teenage dragons into doing things that aren’t in his nature, until he finally stands up for himself and refuses to smash phoenix eggs.

The other manner in which this aspect of Spike’s character manifests itself is in his main flaw: greed. In the second season episode “Secret of My Excess,” Spike begins to grow larger as he grows more greedy, eventually becoming an out-of-control adult dragon. But it’s his relationship with Rarity (take that as you will) that shakes him out of it. He remembers his generosity toward her, and his heart is softened.

But Twilight Sparkle wasn’t sent to Ponyville to hole up in her library with Spike and her books and schedules (even if that’s what she wants to do most of the time). She was sent to learn about a new form of magic called friendship. To that end, she meets five ponies who quickly become her friends and trusted allies. Collectively, these ponies are known by fans of the show as the “Mane Six.”

She meets Applejack, who within one short scene quickly gives us a great deal of insight into her character. Applejack, definitely one of the most simultaneously industrious and “rough and tumble” characters in the show, personifies the idea of “work hard, play hard.” Twilight finds Applejack hard at work preparing food for the Summer Sun Celebration, but still very enthusiastically welcoming. She also summons her massive family (who will be a fixture of the show) to sample the food.

Applejack’s gruff, no-nonsense nature is one of her greatest strength, but it also puts her at odds with others more than once. In the season one episode “Look Before You Sleep,” Applejack and Rarity’s clashing personalities lead the two to have a rather significant quarrel. And in “Fall Weather Friends,” Applejack and Rainbow Dash have a feud due to the overcompetitive nature of both ponies. Furthermore, Applejack’s industriousness and self-reliance, though certainly often an asset, make it difficult for her to ask for help when she needs it in “Applebuck Season.”

Family is very important to Applejack, as she is often depicted interacting with her enormous family. One notable example is in the season 3 episode “Apple Family Reunion,” where Applejack finds herself put in charge of the eponymous reunion. Realizing how important the event is to Granny Smith, and the family in general, Applejack ends up going a bit overboard and has to calm down for everyone (including her) to actually have a good time.

Twilight Sparkle’s first encounter with Rainbow Dash finds the latter boastful and speedy as always. She also isn’t on screen for more than thirty seconds before she mentions her ambition to join the Wonderbolts. In the process, however, a series of mishaps end up badly messing up Twilight’s hair. Immediately, we find that Rainbow Dash is both impressive and perhaps a bit overly impressed with herself (which has never really bothered me because I’m at least as impressed with her, due to my rather obvious enormous crush on her). Also we find that though she’s very adept (as evidenced by her clearing the sky in “ten seconds flat” as promised), she’s also a bit of a klutz.

Rainbow Dash’s confident nature leads to the dual challenges of occasionally being a tad overly boastful and the tendency to occasionally “bite off more than she can chew.” The latter certainly happens in “Sonic Rainboom” when Dash needs to duplicate her eponymous feat and finds herself unable to do so until given the added motivation of saving her friend Rarity. In “The Mysterious Mare Do Well,” Dash lets hero worship go to her head to the point that her friends team up to knock her down a peg. (I should note that I’m not a huge fan of this episode because I think they could’ve gone about it in a less mean-spirited way and not let Dash become totally dejected, but I’m also an admitted fangirl so it’s quite possible I’m overreacting.)

This is going to sound paradoxical, but one of Dash’s other biggest surprising obstacles is that she is often quite insecure. Although her skills often impress others, she sometimes seems to go “overboard” to try to win their favor (especially in the case of the Wonderbolts). This also leads to her hiding things about herself–like her newly acquired taste for reading in the season 2 episode “Read It and Weep,” or the fact that she used to get scared very easily which she confides only to Scootaloo in the season 3 episode “Sleepless in Ponyville.” It also leads to her not always seeing the value of things that are not demonstrably “awesome,” such as in “May the Best Pet Win!” when she initially dismisses the turtle who will eventually become her pet.

The biggest lingering storyline with Rainbow Dash is her fierce desire to join the Wonderbolts. After a lot of buildup in previous season, this desire comes to fruition in “Wonderbolts Academy.” However, in what is easily the biggest example of her personal growth, Rainbow Dash is actually prepared to walk away from her dream for the sake of her principles. Naturally, this ends up being unnecessary and Dash is actually rewarded for her bravery, becoming the leader of the Wonderbolts cadets.

Twilight meets Rarity as the other unicorn is preparing decorations for the celebration, but the other unicorn quickly becomes distressed at Twilight’s hair problems which occurred in the previous scene with Rainbow Dash. With dazzling speed, she tries pretty much every conceivable mane style on Twilight, showing off both her generosity and her artistic flair.

As demonstrated in her previously-mentioned conflict with Applejack in “Look Before You Sleep,” Rarity abhors getting dirty in any way (but she’s able to get over it to an extent in that episode to help her friends). Perhaps the most important early episode for Rarity is “Suited for Success,” where we see both her serious dedication to her art (including during the exceptional song “Art of the Dress”). However, we also see Rarity fail to stand up for herself (and her art) when she allows her friends to pressure her into making dresses she isn’t satisfied with.

Rarity seems to have learned her lesson from this episode well, because by the time “A Dog and Pony Show” rolls around, Rarity is much more ready to stand up for herself in a much more dire situation when she’s kidnapped by Diamond Dogs. By the time her friends rescue her she’s actually managed to convince the Diamond Dogs into treating her like royalty.

The last pony Twilight meets up with Fluttershy (don’t worry: we haven’t forgotten about Pinkie; you’ll see), who is directing a songbird choir in her very softspoken way. She has trouble introducing herself to Twilight because of her very quiet voice and shy nature. When she sees Spike she suddenly becomes much more talkative and animated.

We quickly find out that Fluttershy’s interest in Spike does not hold true when it comes to adult dragons in the season one episode “Dragonshy.” Standing up for herself is an even bigger challenge for Fluttershy than it was for Rarity, however, and she finds herself dragged into dealing with the dragon whether she wants to or not. Fortunately, when the dragon threatens her friends Fluttershy finds her strength and actually manages to intimidate the dragon into leaving her friends alone.

Her difficulty standing up for herself doesn’t go away overnight, however, as she and Rarity have an enormous misunderstanding in “Green Isn’t Your Color.” Rarity becomes jealous of Fluttershy’s success as a model, while Fluttershy is actually only going along with it because she’s worried about disappointing Rarity.

This element of Fluttershy’s personality is explored most fully in “Putting Your Hoof Down,” when Fluttershy is encouraged to be less of a “doormat” by her friends and ends up enrolling in a self-help program taught by a minotaur named Iron Will. Fluttershy’s personality changes for the worse, going from shy to actually mean. When Fluttershy realizes she doesn’t like the way she’s changed, she shows a more positive form of assertiveness in refusing to pay for Iron Will’s lessons because she isn’t satisfied with them.

Two other huge episodes for Fluttershy are “Hurricane Fluttershy,” in which she overcomes her fear of flight and is cheered as a hero, and “Keep Calm and Flutter On,” in which she displays her assertiveness in dealing with the former villain Discord.

Pinkie Pie is actually technically the first pony Twilight Sparkle meets in Ponyville, but she doesn’t learn much from that encounter as Pinkie rather characteristically “spazzes out” and takes off for no apparent reason. We see her again after the other ponies have been introduced, however, when she throws a surprise party to celebrate Twilight’s arrival to Ponyville.

Pinkie’s episodes have been rather appropriately random, and out of all the characters she’s probably the one that has a least coherent character arc. In “Swarm of the Century” she seems to have rather nonsensical reactions to the crisis facing Ponyville. While the others try to figure out a way to drive off or capture the swarm, Pinkie insists she must collect musical instruments. Her friends write this off as her being incredibly random and unhelpful, but Pinkie ends up saving the town by leading the swarm away with her “one-man band” performance.

In “Feeling Pinkie Keen” we learn that Pinkie has a “Pinkie Sense” that many ponies in Ponyville rely upon, which confounds Twilight as it lacks any scientific or magical explanation. And in “Too Many Pinkie Pies,” Pinkie’s desire to have fun goes overboard when she finds a way to clone herself so she can spend time with all of her friends at once.

But by far Pinkie’s best episode is “A Friend in Deed.” When a new resident of Ponyville named Cranky Doodle Donkey arrives, Pinkie takes it upon herself to find a way to become his friend. She sings what’s essentially her character-defining song (“Smile”). I’m not going to spoil the ending of this one on the off chance that anyone hasn’t seen it (it’s a very important episode, and the clear direct cause of my grudging admiration for Pinkie Pie), but Pinkie ends up doing something really amazing for her new friend.

So, as you can see, the main characters each have a distinct enough personality that we were able to learn the core elements of their characters in their very first appearances. However, they are also realistic enough that they are constantly growing and we are likewise constantly learning new things about them.

Perhaps the biggest asset to this cast of main characters is its diversity. While I get positively giddy at a Rainbow Dash-centric (or Scootaloo-centric, as we’ll discuss next time) episode, there are probably others who groan and ask, “Another one?” Conversely, while I might huff in exasperation about a Pinkie Pie- or Spike-centric episode, there are probably other fans out there who are positively ecstatic about it. There’s something for everyone here.

And that’s just the main characters! Tune in next time for a discussion of the show’s enormous cast of secondary characters.

I am going to go ahead and proactively admit from the outset that I do not have a very good track record when it comes to films that have achieved universal acclaim. Citizen Kane (widely considered the greatest film of all time) just depresses me too much for me to appreciate how admittedly brilliantly-composed it is. 2001: A Space Odyssey did succeed in impressing me with how beautiful each individual shot was arranged, but I found it so incredibly dull I was unable to enjoy it as a whole. The Godfather and Scarface? Dull. If it weren’t for The Shawshank Redemption and Pulp Fiction, I would be worried that it was just impossible for me to enjoy films with universal acclaim.

A more directly-related example of my poor luck with universally acclaimed films is The Exorcist, widely considered the “scariest film of all time.” Unlike many of the other films I just mentioned, I was astonished to find that it was just… bad. It wasn’t just that I didn’t enjoy it, it was poorly written, poorly acted, poorly filmed, and just poorly made in every conceivable way. Worse, it wasn’t even scary. It relied entirely on “shock value,” “gross out” scares.

While The Evil Dead doesn’t fail on quite the same level, its shortcomings are remarkably similar. While it is not as ill-conceived and technically deficient as The Exorcist, I found the The Evil Dead to fail on some pretty basic levels. I never felt any kind of connection with the characters; they never felt like real people at all, but they also weren’t distinct enough to function as parodies. This failure is pretty startling considering the first 15 minutes of this 90 minute film featured the characters just literally sitting around talking. Before we even got into the film’s conflict, I found myself wondering why I should care about any of these people or what happens to them.

As the film went on, however, I was quite disappointed to find that the “horror” part of the film bore a strong resemblance to The Exorcist. It was of the “shock value,” “gross out” school of horror. A combination of this and the protagonists’ unrelenting blandness made me feel disconnected from the film for the entire time I was watching it. A film in the horror genre can be forgiven many faults, but being so boring it fails to draw you in is not one of them.

Honestly? The only “scare” in the film I found remotely interesting or original was the infamous “tree rape” scene. It was strange, it was brutal, and it was arguably the most well-filmed scene in the film with an effective use of closeup shots to emphasize each action of the scene. So… kudos on a well-done tree rape scene? I guess?

I’m not going to give away the rest of the film (though surely the statute of limitations for spoilers has long since expired), but I will say that unless you’re a huge fan of “scares” that consist mainly of people bleeding profusely or vomiting all over themselves, you might not find this a particularly enjoyable film. Due to this series’ reputation, I’m going to give it at least one more chance, but if Evil Dead II is more of the same I’m not going to bother beyond that.

Like the Elements of Harmony from which the show’s “Mane Six” derive their ultimate power, the elements that make this series as great as it is are actually fairly easy to identify. Let’s call them the Elements of Production. Now, although I’m going to recognize the contributions of the more “technical” aspects of the show’s production, I am not an animator or an artist of any kind. So as integral as these parts are to the show’s success, I’m simply not going to have as much to say about them as I am about the plot, characters, pacing, and other aspects that come primarily from the show’s writing.

Anyway, without further ado, the key to My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic‘s wild success (if you ask me): the Elements of Production.

The first Element of Production is the Element of Animation. This is perhaps the most immediately-apparent Element to new viewers of the series. Although I am not an animator and thus not really familiar with the process that goes into animation, I can recognize when the end product of this process is absolutely stunning as My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic is. The series has a very distinct style which is both immediately identifiable and pleasing to the eye. And it’s not just the style, it’s the composition of each individual shot, the fluidity of the action, and the great effects used for things like Twilight Sparkle’s magic spells and Rainbow Dash’s Sonic Rainboom.

The second Element of Production is the Element of Sound. Whether it’s skilled voice actors like Tara Strong, exceptional sound effects, or the well-composed music that accompanies each episode, My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic certainly does not forget the “audio” in their audio-visual medium. The show has also been noted for having some fantastic in-story songs sung by the characters. (Some of the voice actors even do their own singing, while the other characters have singers paired with their voice actors who manage to sound uncannily like the characters’ voices.)

Although both of these Elements are vital to the show’s success, because of my lack of expertise I am not going to devote separate articles to either of them like I will with the others. Rest assured I am well aware of their importance and how much time, effort, skill, and dedication goes into each of them. But as I have previously mentioned, I am just not well-educated enough in the technical details of these two Elements to provide any more insightful analysis into either.

The third Element of Production is the Element of Characters. Though each Element is important to the show’s exceptional quality, this is quite possibly the most indispensable part of the show’s wild success. Whether it’s the exceptionally well-rounded ensemble cast of main characters or the colorful cast of secondary characters, it’s a lot easier to write great material when you start with either great characters or a distinctive setting. (Or, you know, both.)

The show’s main characters, the “Mane Six,” are of course where most of the stories are going to come from. Although they each have very distinct, core strengths to their personalities, those strengths are often undermined by surprisingly strong anxieties that don’t seem to “fit” the formula of their characters. However, these apparent contradictions make a great deal more sense when you consider these characters are being written as though they’re real people, meaning they’re much more complex than “Rainbow Dash is brave, Twilight Sparkle is smart,” etc.

I’m going to devote a separate article to explore this Element in greater depth, as there is a great deal more to say about both the show’s main characters and supporting characters. And yes: the supporting characters, and oftentimes even the background characters, are another tremendous strength of the show.

The fourth Element of Production is the Element of Story. One of the show’s biggest strengths, which was already evident in the previous Element, is brilliant writing. It’s all well and good to have this massive cast of wonderful characters to work with, but that isn’t worth much if the show is just them standing around saying, “Look how awesome I am!” (Unless it’s Rainbow Dash. Then that’s perfectly acceptable and I would have no problem with half an hour of television that was literally just that. I know it sounds like I’m joking… I’m not.)

I’m going to devote an entirely separate article to the show’s approach to story structure, as well as analysis of specific episodes and arcs, but suffice it to say the show’s story writing is top notch both on macro and micro levels (and we’ll get into what that means in the story-specific article). Story is given the same nuanced approach as characterization. There’s subtlety, there’s character development, there’s diversity… that last part is actually a very crucial element. I might groan every time there’s a Spike-centric episode, but it’s very likely that plenty of other people jump up and down with glee at the same. (But really… did there have to be two in a row this season?)

The fifth and final Element of Production is the Element of Maturity. Now, this may sound out of place when discussing a children’s show, but allow me to explain. It has frequently been noted that one of the things this series does brilliantly well is provide exceptional role models for young girls. One of the many great things about the show is that it depicts strong, confident female characters. This is actually true even of, say, Fluttershy, whose defining attribute is (as one might expect given her name) a soft-spoken nature.

Where someone might not expect to derive a basically feminist message from a show about talking ponies with names that include words like “rainbow” and “sparkle,” My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic is actually able to accomplish this without being remotely “preachy.” All it has to do to get this point across is to focus primarily on female main characters living their lives, fostering relationships, solving problems, confronting great challenges, succeeding, failing (often temporarily or with a larger lesson involved in failure)… in essence, just being. The episodes where they learn something important about themselves and how to be better friends are just as important as the episodes where they save the world. No one has to look at the camera and say, “And that’s why girls are just as good as boys!” but that message is definitely not absent.

Although I will not be writing a separate entry on this fifth Element, you’ll see its hoofprints all over my entries on the Elements of Character and Story. But this last Element is, if you will, the “payoff” of all the others. The net result of these elements is a well-produced show an uncombative but unapologetic message of empowerment.

I found the show charming and pleasant when I first started watching it, but the more I watched it the more I realized something much more serious was going on. In the 1990s, Warner Bros. Animation produced an animated series targeted at young boys that took the unprecedented step of taking its audience seriously. I am referring, of course, to Batman: The Animated Series. It was absolutely one of the best shows in television history, with no special qualification needed for its animated medium.

It took a while, but Hasbro has taken the equally unprecedented step of creating a show targeted at young girls and taking that audience just as seriously. The result, predictably enough, has so far been one of the best shows in the history of television, with no special qualification needed for its medium or for its target demographic.

This is not a fad, this is not going away, and this is not a small deal. And I am loving every second of it.