Peter B. Gillis was a truly underappreciated comic book writer who was behind some of the most unique and interesting stories including Marvel's What If…?, The New Defenders, Doctor Strange, and Strikeforce: Morituri. He had also co-created 'Shatter', along with Mike Saenz back in 1985, which was the first commercially published comic book to be entirely drawn on a computer.
Among his many noteworthy contributions is "What If...? #44 - What If Captain America Were Not Revived Until Today?", published in 1984, with art by Sal Buscema, Dave Simons, and George Roussos, and lettering by John Morelli. The story deals with an alternative history where Captain America remained frozen for longer, while the US slowly sunk into far-right regime reminiscent of Nazi Germany, with a clear racist sentiment on the rise, corrupt politicians that demonised and restricted the civil liberties of minorities, and with a fake Captain America supporting this status quo.
(spoilers ahead)
‘Dot and Bubble’ was definitely an episode that went way beyond what its trailer made it seem. It’s also an episode that is absolutely made by its ending and how it all wraps up. It starts in a very lighthearted tone, taking place on the suffocatingly pastel planet of Finetime, in a futuristic environment that has a little hint of Black Mirror. The protagonist, Lindy Pepper-Bean, waking up and much like a ton of people in real life starts scrolling through that world’s version of social media, an actual bubble that surrounds her head, to which she also seems dependent upon for her every action and decision.
And just as you think that this might be commentary on how addicted we all are to social media, and how influencer culture has some people act online, things start taking a slow turn. It’s subtle, at first, but the hints pointing at what is going on are present from the start. I guess it will depend on how familiar someone is with certain language, behaviours, and microaggressions, but it’s not hard to pick on the occasional odd thing that Lindy and her circle says, and the more the episode progresses the more things add up.
It’s pretty clear, with how Lindy immediately dismisses the Doctor, a Black man, when he first tries to talk to her in order to help her escape the monsters that are hunting everyone down, and the contrast with how she responds to Ruby, a blonde woman with blue eyes makes the oddness of that behaviour even more apparent. Especially when she acts so surprised, even appalled that Ruby is in the same room with him. Overall, the way the episode shows the early signs is very clever, and very reminiscent of how things work in real life when you meet a person with problematic views that starts showing hints of bigotry, and you feel that there is something off but can’t quite place it, or even start trying to find excuses to explain it, until the pieces of the puzzle start forming a big picture. Same way in the episode you feel Lindy is a bit spoiled, or obnoxious, maybe a bit insensitive and privileged, but you sooner or later realise that Lindy, and everyone else in her circle, is unapologetically racist.
There is a lot of hyperbole and exaggeration in the way allegory is utilised in the episode, and not everything sticks the landing, but the overall build up works, and offers a really solid social commentary on how white supremacist online circles mostly act as echo chambers that cultivate and amplify a specific mentality, completely detached from the facts of the real world. It’s also very clever to have that one member of the group who had started thinking outside of the box, exploring different perspectives, and acting more like a better person be the one to be back-stabbed and discarded. Ideologies that are based on discrimination treat their own who deviate, even the slightest, exactly this way.
I know mileage may vary, but for me the ending really worked. Sure, it’d be just as good, cathartic even, to see the Doctor give up on the people who were revealed to be just a hateful group who viewed his skin as something that made him inferior. But beyond this going against the character of the Doctor, it also served in presenting a very real truth about people who are deeply sinking into their hate and bigotry, which more or less applies to any sort of prejudiced thinking: If someone’s entire mentality and worldview is shaped around seeing you as lesser, you can be as smart, as kind towards them, as perfectly-behaved as possible, and their stance won’t change.
Sure, growth is possible, people do change. The character of Ricky September showed us a hint of that, but it almost never happens in an instant or overnight. In most cases you cannot debate a racist out of their racism with one clever comeback. No smart and eloquent argument and no appeal to logic or empathy can induce an instant epiphany for someone who spent years believing that some people are inferior to others, and had their entire social group confirming that notion to them. The Manifest Destiny-like quote spoken before those people turned out refusing the Doctor’s help, and most probably dooming themselves, is very characteristic of how much faith individuals with that mentality put on the false belief that they are simply better than others.
Without question, there is a tendency to milk on the popularity and the already-existing fanbases of books, comics, and video games. Companies often view it as a guaranteed investment that they don’t need to put much effort into, because the name alone will draw people in. There have been numerous examples of people adapting something for the big screen without even having any regard for the source material. Amidst the avalanche of cash-grabs, it’s not hard to come up with dozens of examples of adaptations that fell short, completely missed the point of what made the original work appeal to people, or delivered a final product that carried none of the spirit of the story and characters.
If we have to divide badly adapted material into roughly two categories, there are those that never really cared about it to begin with, beyond the popularity it already carried, and those whose heart was in the right place but for one or more reasons failed to deliver a live action adaptation that lived up to expectations. As much as it may sound pretentious, films and books are quite different in the way they tell their stories, the same goes for comic books and video games. Sometimes a project seems perfect on paper, but the transition from one medium to another turns out flawed or lackluster.
Many use the theory coined in 1967 by French philosopher and literary critic Roland Barthes in his essay “The Death of the Author” while arguing that the author’s intentions aren’t the end all and be all when it comes to interpreting their work, especially considering how art is subjective and often meaning is in the eye of the beholder. Particularly when it comes to books, a lot of the story, the way the characters look, act, or sound, takes life through the reader’s imagination. Thus very often readers see parts of themselves represented in characters in ways the author never intended.
It can be argued that this usually is a complete misinterpretation of the story, however it can also be claimed that if someone finds meaning in something, in a way that makes them feel understood, or even inspired, this holds a special kind of sacredness, and it’s something that belongs to them that nobody can really take away. Naturally, when it comes to adapting a book into another medium, even if the screenwriters don’t intentionally aim to alter it at all, the final product will inevitably be infused with and build upon their own understanding of it.
Nevertheless, when it comes to the perspective of the author, it is also both reasonable and very human for someone who has put time, effort, and a little part of their soul into a piece of creative work to feel the need to say that a specific interpretation or adaptation doesn’t do it justice, or does not convey the message they were trying to get across.
Among the names that George R.R. Martin mentions as examples of people whose work is important enough to be considered untouchable, and therefore should be exempt from alteration, are those of Stan Lee and Roald Dahl, author of beloved children’s books like ‘Matilda’ and ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’, two of my absolutely favourite books as a kid. At the same time, it is common knowledge that Dahl has been a rampant misogynist, racist, and antisemite, a fact that has been acknowledged by the Dahl family and the Roald Dahl Museum and Story Center too. The recent controversy regarding the altering of some of his books, changing the language in order to make it more inclusive and less offensive, mainly to still appeal to modern audiences, brought up the very valid argument that erasing someone’s problematic history also shields them from accountability and the possibility of younger generations rejecting their work because it’s no longer relevant and choosing to read something else. As Philip Pullman very accurately put it: “Dahl’s books aren't classics in that sense. As I say, let them fade away. Read better writers.”
Interestingly enough, this mention of adapting Stan Lee’s work happens very close to the airing of the first season of ‘X-Men ’97’, an undeniable critical success, that has been considered a triumph for Marvel adaptations, which not only was a pure love letter to the original work, but also managed to brilliantly update it in a way that allowed the allegory and themes of the X-Men comics to feel relevant to modern issues surrounding bigotry and prejudices. It is projects like this that serve as a strong counterargument to the “they never get it right” claim, because realistically, sometimes they actually do. Especially since a lot of screenwriters adapting books, comics, and games, approach the source material with nothing but love and respect, and put a lot of effort into making the transfer into a different medium work. Even with some alterations, there is no denying of the vast popularity and classic status of ‘The Lord of the Rings’ trilogy, which for many acted as a gateway to discovering Tolkien’s work.
Artistic liberty, even when it comes to deciphering and altering another creator’s work, is by no means a new thing. There is a long tradition of Shakespearean adaptations, ranging from the 1996 ‘Romeo + Juliet’ and 2010’s ‘Macbeth’ starring Patrick Stewart, to even looser interpretations like ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ and ‘West Side Story’. It would feel like quite the stretch to completely deny the artistic value of these works, just because they differ significantly from the original material that inspired them.
And seeing that Charles Dickens was also mentioned in the same blog post by George R. R. Martin, it's impossible not to bring up that one of the most beloved and immensely popular adaptations of his works is 'The Muppet Christmas Carol'. Which not only features a flawless performance by Michael Caine, but also keeps the spirit of the story intact while masterfully retelling it in its own unorthodox but brilliant way, without showing a hint of disrespect towards Charles Dickens' novella.
1) Props to everyone and anyone involved in this for pulling it off. In an ocean of nostalgia-bait cash grabs they brought back and updated the original cartoon with nothing but love and respect for the source material. The storylines, the social and political commentary, and the dozens of character cameos and little nods to the history of the X-Men prove as much, and are hands down impressive.
2) Gambit and Rogue remain absolute favourites.
3) The weekly drop for the episodes really works in favour of the story.
4) It's such a shame there hasn't been a solid X-Men video game in ages.
5) 'Remember It' was the best, most intense, gut-wrenching and emotionally impactful episode of the season so far. This is the most 'X-Men' anything X-Men related has felt in a long while, and holy shit I can't believe that I have to wait an entire week now (yes, I know this totally contradicts point 3, but let me have it).
6) Nightcrawler!
Started casually watching 'My Adventures with Superman' as a palate cleanser and ended up bingeing the rest of the show because it is such a comfort watch. It's so sincere, funny, optimistic, and full of heart, and just peak Superman. With some more serious turns in the story as well, keeping things interesting.
Originally posted on Mastodon
