A Few Notes on Omnisexuality in Doctor Who and Torchwood

One of Captain Jack Harkness’s most well-known traits is his 51^st-century “flexibility.”  More so than his temporal displacement, past as a time agent, or fixed-moment status, the top adjective affixed to Jack is “omnisexual.”  Which is fine – it sets Jack apart from most leading men on genre shows, and it serves as good commentary on the passage of time.  What once was unspeakably scandalous is, in Jack’s time, commonplace.  (One Torchwood relationship spoiler.)

I love Who’s handling of Jack’s sexuality, an ever-present trait that informs his character without overwhelming it.  His easy joie de vivre is a big part of his appeal, and while Rose is at first surprised by his interest in both men and woman and taken aback by the 51^st century’s “so many species, so little time” philosophy, his affable sexual openness soon becomes just part of who he is.  He loves/flirts inclusively and with relish – he cheerily celebrates beauty anywhere his near-inexhaustible radar finds it.  For me, the most encapsulating example of Jack’s orientation is in “Bad Wolf,” where he cops a feel off a lady robot.  Not a flesh-model-Cylon type played by an attractive thespian, not a blatantly non-human robot.  Jack is into that, and it’s fine; it’s Jack.

Also, it’s not stated outright, but I like the idea that Jack is non-monogamous and loving.  He’s in love with both Rose and the Doctor, and I’m pretty sure that in his ideal world, all three would be in a relationship with each other.  His affection for both of them doesn’t stop him flirting with anyone else, though, and I don’t think that lessens his feelings for either of them.  Simply put, he’s from 3,000 years in the future, and people don’t think like that anymore.  (That said, when in relationships with 21^st-century humans like Ianto, I don’t imagine he wanders.  My fanwank is that it would be like if a woman from 2015 stranded in the 1800s married a man there; she doesn’t view her ankles as an indecent part of her body, but out of respect for her husband’s perspective, she’s not going to go around showing them off.)

On Torchwood, Jack’s sexuality feels much simpler.  Partly, it’s that Jack is in a monogamous relationship for most of the show, which reduces his equal-opportunity flirting instincts.  There are a few signs of past relationships – info on a few women and an extended flashback with a man.  Other than that, we mainly get brief, cheeky mentions of old boyfriends, a bit of innuendo in random encounters, and a naughty joke about aliens.  Jack’s diverse cornucopia of attractions winnows down to basically bi, mostly emphasizing male partners.  At the start of the series, Jack’s colleagues don’t even know what his orientation is, gossiping about whether he’s gay or straight (only Tosh suggests a non-binary alternative) – since Rose knew Jack for, at most, a few hours before realizing, it’s weird that his team has worked with him for years and don’t know.

There’s not one scene of Jack flirting intel out of an alien informant or distracting an alien guard with his roguish charm, which, prior to watching Torchwood, is a big part of why I assumed it existed.  But really, there are only two times when Jack feels properly omnisexual here.  I love the scene in “Meat” where he flirts outrageously with Rhys’s secretary, who’s about 40 and a little heavy – no criticism of her, but in TV terms, it’s a fairly clear indication that Jack has wider sexual tastes than most.  And “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang,” with fellow 51^st-century boy Captain John Hart, is a strong dose of “finally!”  Much of it comes from John rather than Jack himself, but when the two former time agents are together, you see how novel their sensibilities are.  It’s tons of fun, and one of the few times it feels like Torchwood actually captures Jack’s orientation.

Relationship Spotlight: Gwen Stacy & Peter Parker (The Amazing Spider-Man)

In recent comic book movies, these two make just about the best superhero/superhero’s love interest pair outside of Captain America and Peggy Carter (we just can’t have nice things, can we?)  While they’re not without their contrived drama and being teenagers definitely gives them a different tenor than most of their competition, I love this relationship enough to have singled it out in my reviews of both films.  I’d say that warrants their own write-up, wouldn’t you?

It’s not that I’m setting out to prove how much better Peter/Gwen is than Peter/Mary Jane in the Sam Raimi films; it just sort of happens.  First, as far as their basic connection goes, I like that we don’t get a tired Beauty and the Geek pairing, where she’s the ravishing girl-next-door who typically dates Neanderthals, and he’s the quintessential put-upon Nice Guy who finally wins her after years of being nigh-invisible to her.  Instead, while Gwen is on Peter’s radar from the start, he’s on hers, too.  She appreciates his guts and his smarts, and they sort of circle each other, almost-flirting as they get closer and closer with each revolution.  And again, that’s on both sides – Gwen seeks Peter out pretty much as often as he seeks her, and when he’s with her, he doesn’t just do the moony-eyed geek-boy thing.  He’s maybe a little awkward, but he’s also self-deprecating and fun, and it’s clear that he’s no chump.

When they get close enough to start actually flirting and later begin a relationship, they just fit together so well.  Their interactions are quick and funny, and what’s more, they have plenty in common.  Both are big into science, they care enough about right and wrong to do something about it, they can keep their heads in a crisis, and they’re more than a little reckless.  Maybe Peter fell for Gwen before he knew all that about her, but there’s no denying that when they get together, they click.  I have a hard time imagining what Peter/Mary Jane would do just hanging out on a quiet night, but Peter/Gwen could easily keep each other entertained and occupied.  And when they bicker or all-out argue, you can see the affection behind it; their minor tiffs are playful and sarcastic, and their larger fights still tend to recognize how much each means to the other.

And as far as the whole “superhero’s girlfriend” thing goes, Gwen comes out pretty well.  Yes, she gets menaced by bad guys and she’s sometimes threatened by the villains for the sole purpose of hitting Spidey where it hurts.  However, she’s endangered largely because she chooses to enter dangerous situations, not wanting to wait on the sidelines while her boyfriend takes care of everything.  She may not be climbing walls or throwing punches, but she doesn’t need to; she contributes in the ways she knows she can be useful, way that rely on her science knowledge or quick thinking.  This can be a sore spot between them, because Peter is understandably worried about her getting hurt or killed and assumes that, as a powered individual, it’s up to him to make the call on whether something is too dangerous for Gwen to be in the middle of it.  But while his fears are understandable, making her decisions for her is in no way justifiable, and Gwen makes it clear that she’s having none of it.  When he tries to keep her out of a dicey situation, she comes anyway, fuming and calling him a “caveman” for his attempt to hold her back out of a perceived knowledge of what’s best for her.  Is it the smartest thing for a non-powered person to be at ground zero during superhero fights?  Probably not, but Gwen sees the danger and goes into it with her eyes wide open, and when she gets there, she helps; in the big showdown in both films, I’m not quite sure how Spidey would’ve won without her.  Go, Gwen!

Favorite Characters: Alistair Delgado (Huge)

Though Alistair is cut from similar cloth as Rickie, the fantastically loveable queer Latino kid from another Winnie Holzman teen drama (My So-Called Life,) the character is executed in a way that’s wholly his own.  And he’s just lovely.  Terrific writing aside, I’m glad that Huge existed so an excellent actor like Harvey Guillen had the opportunity to play this rich character.  A few Alistair-related spoilers.  (Note:  I think it’s entirely possible that, had Huge lasted longer, Alistair would’ve come out as trans.  However, since that never happened on the show – what we know for sure is that Alistair likes boys and dislikes labels – I’ll stick with male pronouns.)

Making his first appearance at fat camp, Alistair demonstrates optimism and resiliency almost right away.  Despite his friendly openness, the other boys in his cabin avoid him and make fun of him behind his back.  They auto-assume his sexuality, they have secret conversations about who should tell him he smells (Alistair is uncomfortable with the communal showers,) and his unhip hobbies, like knitting and magic, win him no favors.  But Alistair is no stranger to bullying, and he doesn’t let it get to him at camp any more than he lets it get to him back in the real world.  He has a c’est la vie attitude to it, pointing that he is fat, and he is weird, so there’s no benefit to wring his hand when people call him out as such.

None of the misfits on the show, Alistair included, spend much time longing to join the cool group, which I love.  Like Ian, Alistair does have a crush on one of the cool kids, and there’s the added discomfort of his popular twin sister Chloe not wanting people to know they’re related.  Still, there’s no big yen on his part to “fit in;” like I said, it doesn’t bother him when other kids give him a hard time.  But Alistair is a little different than his friends, who are either too shy to approach the cool kids or actively dislike them.  Alistair doesn’t have anything against anyone.  Instead, he’s amiable to all, almost unquenchably positive and sunny.

Furthermore, Alistair is wonderfully confident.  One could argue that, as a teenager who’s both obese and non-heteronormative, he’s kind of had to – see the resiliency and optimism mentioned above.  When the kids are asked to “choose new names” as part of an activity, he has no qualms about calling himself Athena, smoothly shutting down the haters who get incredulous about him picking a female name.  Plus, he has an endearingly geeky enthusiasm that he’s 100% unapologetic about.  Whether it’s the aforementioned knitting or the magic, the LARP Becca creates, or his mad Risk skills, he’ll share his zeal with anyone who will listen.

Finally, this is tied up in all the other traits I’ve mentioned, but considering the crap people put Alistair through, he’s incredibly forgiving.  Even though Chloe’s refusal to acknowledge him is a majorly uncool move, he only tells one person about their relationship, in a very unguarded moment.  When people are mean or insensitive to him, it usually rolls off his shoulders immediately, and when he says no hard feelings, he means it.  There’s no running tally, no list of who’s nice to him and who’s not.  It’s completely water under the bridge, and the one time he gets into it with another camper over a serious betrayal, he just keeps to himself until he cools off and then moves on to detached civility.  While the other kids are having enormous falling-outs every other week or playing passive-aggressive games with each other, Alistair just kind of gets on with things, displaying an impressively-mature level head about all the drama around him.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010, PG-13)

I’d been majorly dubious about splitting the last Harry Potter book into two movies, but they honestly turned out to be, in my opinion, two of the series’ best.  While I tired of the interminable camping scenes in the book, the film’s deft handling of the story makes this movie feel like anything but filler.  (Spoilers for the basic direction of The Deathly Hallows.)

Gone is the familiar Hogwarts backdrop.  Harry has given up school in order to track down Horcruxes, the magical MacGuffins of evil that, once collected and destroyed, will finally allow Voldemort to be defeated.  Ron and Hermione, being Ron and Hermione, of course aren’t about to let Harry go it alone, and so they join him on his quest.  As they struggle with their baffling mission, try to elude the nefarious wizards and witches who are after them, and battle the dark magic that seeks to influence them, they inch ever closer to the final battle to come.

This is just a fantastic movie.  The somewhat aimless feel of this section of the book, surprisingly, is translated really well onscreen.  There’s still the sense of the trio being rudderless, unsure of where to go or what to do, resentments festering amid their confusion and fear, but I don’t feel restless like I did slogging through it on the page.  The script is tight, there’s a good balance of external threats and internal conflict, and our heroes’ waning hopes are captured perfectly.  The bigger sustained sequences are all well done, from the Ministry of Magic infiltration to the encounter with the Death Eaters, and the animation during the Tale of the Three Brothers is unbelievable.

The “darkness” seems forced at times in The Half-Blood Prince, but it feels totally earned here.  The script, the direction, the acting, the music – everything works in conjunction to convey the feeling of these bleak days in the wizarding world.  There are still flashes of humor here and there (I like some of the jokes and sight gags with Hermione’s bigger-on-the-inside handbag,) and moments of warmth keep the austerity from getting too oppressive (there are some lovely friendship touches within the trio,) but there’s an obvious pall seeping into every corner of the story.  Things are clearly coming to a head, and it’s all gonna go down in the final movie.

It occurs to me that I never mentioned Helena Bonham Carter as the unhinged Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange, so I’ll give her kudos now.  Additionally, we get a little of the fabulous Bill Nighy as Rufus Scrimgeour, along with Rhys Ifans (he was the Lizard in The Amazing Spider-Man, but I’ll always know him best as Puff in Human Nature,) who’s very effective in his brief scenes as Xenophilius Lovegood.  Also, she has maybe two lines, so it barely counts as a role, but Michelle Fairley, a.k.a. Catelyn Stark, appears as Hermione’s mom.  Really, though, while the adults are as sublime as always, this is definitely the trio’s movie.  All three of them are stellar – Daniel Radcliffe meets the material head-on, Rupert Grint has some great drama to work with, and Emma Watson feels so genuine.  Terrific work all around.

Warnings

Magical violence (including a scene of torture – now that I’m writing it all down, I’m noticing that there really is a lot of torture in these books,) frightening images, thematic elements, and brief sexual content.

Top Five Songs: Fun Home

A little more Fun Home for you, today focusing on the musical’s excellent score.  For a show that doesn’t have a ton of numbers in it (a good chunk of the cast recording is dialogue tracks,) it was still tough narrowing it down to a top five.  Ask me tomorrow and one or two might be swapped out for others, but right now, these are my favorites.

“It All Comes Back” – The opening number.  From young Alison’s request to play “airplane,” to Bruce’s devoted love of restoration, to adult Alison’s first steps into memoir writing, each element is brought fantastically to life.  The music twists and molds to fit the situation, and the lyrics are at once simple but earnest, yearning and frank.

Best line:  “I love how tarnish melts away, / Opening to luster.”

“Welcome to Our House on Maple Avenue” – As the Bechdels prepare for an important house showing, this frantic, pattery number shows how Bruce’s punctilious anxiety infects the whole family.  At the mercy of his precision, young Alison, her mother, and her brothers sweat to arrange the house exactly to Bruce’s vision.

Best line:  “Welcome to our house on Maple Avenue! / See how we polish and we shine? / We rearrange and realign. / Everything is balanced and serene, / Like chaos never happens if it’s never seen.”

“Maps” – This is a definite theme number taken straight from the pages of the book, and I really love it.  In it, adult Alison cuts out the stories and versions of truth Bruce has told her, instead making a sparse, honest map of his dad’s life.  She sees the smallness of it and ponders whether, had he ventured out of the tiny sphere of his existence, his life might have turned out differently.

Best line:  “You were born on this farm; / Here’s our house; / Here’s the spot where you died. / […] I can draw a circle – / You lived your life inside.”

“Ring of Keys” – I already mentioned this song as one of my Top Five Tony performances, but it deserves another mention.  It’s just sublime, a perfect articulation of young Alison’s confused feeling of homecoming and kinship upon seeing her first butch woman.  I love it to pieces.

Best line:  “It’s probably conceited to say, / But I think we’re alike in a certain way.”

“Telephone Wire” – For once, adult Alison stops recording and narrating.  She steps into the memory of her last conversation with Bruce, a nighttime drive pregnant with everything they’re not saying to one another.  The fitful melody on Bruce’s awkward starts and stops perfectly matches his state of mind, and Alison’s desperation to make a connection with Bruce is palpable in its longing.

Best line:  “Say something, / Talk to him! / Say something, / Anything! / At the light, at the light, at the light, at the light […] / Doesn’t matter what you say, / Just make the fear in his eyes go away.”

Ant-Man (2015, PG-13)

Rule One of the Avengers universe:  trust that Marvel knows what it’s doing.  This movie is way better than it has any right to be, and I had a fantastic time seeing it.  In fact, while we know that Ant-Man (and, hopefully, some of his crew) will be appearing in future Marvel properties, it’s kind of a bummer to think that it’ll be 2019 or later before we get Ant-Man 2.

Scott Lang, a convict with Robin Hood morals, engineering smarts, and cat-burglar moves, has recently left the big house.  He’s anxious to get back on his feet and prove to his ex-wife that he’s on the straight and narrow; until he can get his act together, he won’t be allowed to see his daughter.  Enter Hank Pym, scientific wonder and former S.H.I.E.L.D. asset.  Pym is the genius behind the Pym Particle, which once enabled him, with the help of a special suit, to shrink to the level of an insect while maintaining the strength of a full-sized man.  He retired years ago, fearing the potential of his own tech, but he now needs someone new to take up the Ant-Man mantle – someone’s trying to replicate his work, and Pym will do anything to keep the powerful, dangerous technology out of the wrong hands.  Scott is rough and untrained, but Pym, with the begrudging help of his daughter Hope, is determined to whip him into shape.

First things first:  this movie is crazy fun.  Scott faces his incredible situation with everything from bewilderment to deadpan humor, a humorous crop of supporting characters nicely round out the film, and the action is a blast.  The film plays around a lot with the nature of the suit’s powers; it’s neat watching Scott change size in an instant mid-fight, and I love the visual effects of Scott interacting with normal-sized objects in his reduced state.  It also takes advantage of the comic potential in the lowered stakes of a miniaturized fight – moves that look epic zoomed-in are hilariously anticlimactic when the camera pulls out to show the actual scale.

For a film that at first seems pretty removed from the major Marvel happenings, I like how it folds into the franchise continuity and just generally feels like it’s taking place in a world where the Avengers exist.  Even if Hank is no longer in the S.H.I.E.L.D. loop and Scott has never been in it, the connections are there and feel organic.  And overall, framing the movie more as a super-powered heist than a standard comic-book film is smart.  It especially helps in the big third-act throw-down; between the different genre and Ant-Man’s unique powers, it’s one of the most original climax sequences in the Marvel oeuvre.  Really, my only big complaint is that I wanted more of Hope in action.  While I understand the reasons the story gives for limiting her, it’s not terribly satisfying, particularly since she more than proves herself as she helps train Scott.

Paul Rudd is likeable and engaging as Scott.  He brings the humor, the action, and the heart (his scenes with his daughter are adorable.)  I like Michael Douglas’s gruff mentor Pym, Lost’s Evangeline Lilly does a nice job as cool, capable Hope, and Corey Stoll (Hemingway from Midnight in Paris!) is a lot of fun in a supporting role.  Additionally, this movie offers a few terrific Avengers-verse cameos that I won’t spoil, both in the movie proper and in the post-credits scenes (which, by the way, get me super excited for future movies.)

Warnings

Comic book violence (including a scene involving animals,) some swearing, and drinking.

Buster Keaton Remembered (2001)

I’ve mentioned this book in other posts about Buster Keaton biographical material, but it’s high time this excellent biography got a write-up of its own.  Penned largely by Eleanor Keaton (Buster’s third wife,) along with cinematic historian Jeffrey Vance, the comprehensive volume contains anecdotes and memories from all over Buster’s fascinating life.

Like the previously-reviewed My WonderfulWorld of Slapstick and Bluffton, the book thrives on its wonderful retellings of the many larger-than-life things that Buster did and experienced.  From the personal, such as Buster’s attempts to get his then-girlfriend to break up with him after he fell for Eleanor (it involved dangling a strapping young wrestler in front of her,) to the professional, like the years it took Buster to realize he’d broken his neck while filming Sherlock Jr., it offers a colorful, entertaining cross-section from a life that began in Midwestern playhouses, rose to Hollywood royalty, and roamed across the globe.

One thing I really love about Buster Keaton Remembered is its organization and thoroughness.  While My Wonderful World of Slapstick jumps around from topic to topic and only gives some subjects a cursory look, this book is carefully detailed and arranged.  In addition to the usual biographical fare – childhood, coming of age, marriages, successes, struggles, etc. – examination of Buster’s career takes pride of place.  Some periods are arranged into longer cumulative sections, like Buster’s time with Fatty Arbuckle or his post-MGM shorts, but every project from his independent and MGM years gets its own separate write-up.  The shorts and most of the MGM films get about a page each, and there’s a more in-depth piece on each of the silent features.  In this way, everything gets covered in excellent detail, and there’s no sense of getting shortchanged on particular films or eras.

With Eleanor Keaton behind the book, much of it written in the first person – the later stuff is mostly her own recollections, and the earlier stories are based on Buster’s, relating them back to her.  This gives the book a warm, personal feel.  Though it doesn’t shy away from the tough times and the less flattering experiences, it was clearly written by someone who loved Buster and wanted to celebrate his amazing work and extraordinary life.  Maybe it’s a little rose-tinted (no doubt Buster’s first wife would tell the misadventure of their marriage differently,) but that’s okay with me, because I see the regard and affection behind it.

Another great feature of the book is its gorgeous, extensive photo collection.  Really, it’s set up more like a coffee-table book than a straight biography; since visual media and humor was such a big part of Buster’s career, it’s only fitting that a book about him doesn’t skimp on the pictures.  Again, basically everything is covered.  There’s promotional shots of the Three Keatons from Buster’s vaudeville days, candid shots from his childhood, production images from countless shorts and features, behind-the-scenes pictures of Buster at work, and elaborate gag photos staged professional and personally throughout his life.  In the movie write-ups, important scenes are illustrated with a progression of stills to give a visual sense of the scenes’ flow and humor, and I love that Buster went to so much trouble to create on-set comedic tableaus that, while related to his films, didn’t contain actual scenes from them.  The images range from obscure to iconic, and Buster’s trademark stone face and comic sensibility radiates from each one.