To Smooch (Not Smite): A Review/Analysis of Polygon’s PeaceCraft

All images in this post were captured from the PeaceCraft videos on Polygon's YouTube channel.

            Admittedly, I have had little previous experience with either World of Warcraft or the McElroy brothers and their various online ventures. While I have no plans to get into the former, I have started to get more familiar with the latter after listening to some episodes of the three brothers’ comedy advice podcast—My Brother, My Brother, And Me—and watching the web series of the same name developed by Seeso. The McElroys as a family just seem very funny, charming, and, above all, sweet. In a very shrill, angry, cynical world, there is something engaging about the general sense of sweetness and happiness the brothers seem to bring to their projects. Today I would like to focus on some of the work of the “sweet baby brother” Griffin McElroy, who, in addition to his work with the other brothers, also creates several video series for the site Polygon that deal with video games in some way. The first of these that I watched was Touch the Skyrim, a series in which Griffin attempts to essentially break the massively popular fantasy role-playing game by altering it with mods that co-host Nick Robinson must try to identify. Such modifications to the game have included: giant bears, the ability to stop time, “sexy” outfits, transforming the entire world into an undersea paradise, and adding the option to make any characters in the game kiss, which just gets even weirder when modded in characters like Sonic the Hedgehog get involved. Across the two “seasons” of the show so far, Griffin and Nick have built some loose narratives around their various mods, though the series is ultimately less about story and more about hijinks like humping Batman in a cavern filled with giant Sonics. The series I want to focus on here is a solo effort for Griffin that revolves around an attempted nonviolent run through the world of World of Warcraft using a gnome rogue named “Raandyy” (Both “Randy” and “Randyy” were already taken).

            The premise for this “PeaceCraft” series on the first episode on YouTube reads, “Join Griffin McElroy and Raandyy on an unforgettable journey through Azeroth in PeaceCraft, a new Polygon video series. Can sweet Raandyy find a way through the various checkpoints Griffin has arbitrary [sic] established for him in way-too-high-level zones without killing a single creature?” In essence, Griffin starts a new game on a PvP server with the intent to guide his rogue (so chosen for its learned stealth abilities) through various zones of the game without committing any violent acts. Griffin himself notes that pacifism in Warcraft is not new or entirely unsupported, so what makes this series special is that trademark McElroy sweetness and the way that his goals for Raandyy do not conform to those of the game. This is more of a cross-country marathon than it is a quest to save the realm, and with no attempt to make Raandyy appropriately-leveled for the challenges he faces (the goal is to cover distance, not grind out levels), the approach puts the character at a greater disadvantage than that faced by other characters with similar nonviolent intentions. The PvP elements in particular just makes the world even more dangerous for sweet Raandyy.  

  

            PeaceCraft is rife with comedy: Raandyy running around with no pants on, hiding behind trees to try to harvest plants when enemies’ backs are turned, running howling into a town with an enemy in tow to die while other players do not notice or refuse to intervene. And then there are moments that I found really affecting like when early in the game Raandyy ends up begging for in-game currency, again, from largely seemingly disinterested players. The tone is comedic, but the subtext is powerful because of the real world echoes of poverty and because the structure of the game is literally such that Raandyy cannot start to level up and progress without experience, which he cannot get without killing unless he has the money to pay to learn a trade. The hump is a real one imposed by both the game’s systems and by the limitations (no killing) Griffin has set on his own run. It is both funny but also very serious, and it makes for a more compelling narrative given how flush with currency Raandyy later becomes thanks to the contributions of his “fan-diies.”

Another source of comedy in PeaceCraft: the editing and the use of visuals and music beyond what is "native" to the game. Here we see Raandyy celebrating leveling up.

            Similar mixes of humor and genuine pathos arise thanks to Raandyy’s consistent characterization as both nonviolent and kind. He blows kisses to most of the people he meets; he refuses to kill (even by engaging in such an innocuous video game staple like fishing); he makes peace by laying out a blanket, umbrella, and picnic basket and encouraging other players to do the same; he tries to avoid being killed by other players by lying on the ground; he cheers on other players involved in fights even if he will not fight himself. The nonviolent premise of the show translates to character traits for Raandyy, and Griffin role-plays as him with consistency and some sincerity. This fundamental kindness is very “on brand” for the McElroys. The nonviolence of the run comes to head in the most recent (as of this writing) episode of the show when Raandyy and his followers go to a carnival and get into an arena. Although some players try to practice peace, others are killing. One in particular kills Raandyy multiple times, resulting in Griffin’s decision to have Raandyy “do a hit” on the person in question. Although some “fan-diies” try to hold Raandyy back verbally and by transforming him into animals, he eventually succeeds in attempting his hit… only to miss because the character is so under-leveled. A second attempt at a hit moments later produces the same results, and seeing the game’s own systems ultimately serve to further characterize Raandyy as someone who is not only opposed to violence but also incapable of inflicting it even when he tries only adds to the sense of him as a consistent character. It is funny but also actually makes sense within the narrative Griffin is building as the series goes on.

PeaceCraft is highly edited, both for time (since each episode is only about 20 minutes long) and for humorous effect.

            One of the things that makes PeaceCraft appealing to me in ways that Touch the Skyrim is not is the way that the former series does not so much attempt to break the game as it does try to examine the ways in which the game’s systems can be used in non-traditional ways. At its most simple it asks: How effectively can a person move through the game using only non-violent sources of experience and money? Of course, because this is an MMORPG, most sources of experience and money involve killing, either solo or as part of a team, so Raandyy’s adventure reveals how slim the pickings can be for players who might try to test those limits. The character is behind the progression curve at every turn since his primary sources of income and experience are picking flowers, harvesting minerals, and selling both. Consequently, Raandyy is under-leveled (usually dramatically so) for whatever zone he happens to be in, resulting in his being one- or two-shot by almost every enemy or hostile player he encounters. Again—This pushes the limits of the game’s systems. What was meant to be a straight-forward RPG where the player moves through an area mowing down enemies at or around their current level turns into a sort of stealth or puzzle game at times, where Griffin uses Raandyy’s rogue class power of cloaking (once he has earned it) and/or the environment itself to try to gather resources or just avoid enemies. In a forest filled with deadly spiders, for example, Raandyy takes to a nearby river to swim through the zone, only to discover that that is not a totally safe route either.

Each episode tracks Raandyy's progress along a certain "leg" of his journey.

            Oftentimes, progress through a region in PeaceCraft seems to slow to a crawl as, unable to avoid enemies entirely, Griffin instead has to resort to fudging his way through using the game’s respawn system. At times he can count the number of steps he takes forward from one death to another on one hand. No doubt this was arduous to record—especially since there is a cooldown on respawns—but it is highly engaging to watch: not only because of the humor of the action and that comes from Griffin’s running commentary, but also because it made me think about the nature of games. It was interesting to me because I thought about how video games like Warcraft are, to some extent, the extension of the imaginative play of children (which has few set rules) and the sort of traditional role-playing games that have rules but also allow for imaginative play when the GM is willing and the stats and roll of the dice allow for it. Warcraft, though ostensibly a “role-playing” game, only allows mechanical role-play within very strict limitations. Simply put: The game’s goal for the player, regardless of their imagined role, is levelling up (most often through killing), and the goal of peacefully maneuvering through the world on a cross-country trek is not as well-supported. Add to that that Griffin’s run ignores much of the “content” of the game—another goal of an RPG like this one: to complete as many quests as possible and to advance what story there is—in favor of a self-selected goal of simply reaching certain milestones on the map. PeaceCraft is less Warcraft than it is Forrest Gump—and that comparison becomes especially apt when you consider how the narrative of the series evolves once the fans get directly involved in Raandyy’s quest.

            Superficially, PeaceCraft reminds me of Forrest Gump because of its initial premise: Lovable Simpleton Runs Around The World. Like the sequence from the movie, however, what starts out as a solitary journey eventually turns into one filled with other hangers-on. I said before that PeaceCraft does not break the game like Touch the Skyrim does (with mods), but once Raandyy starts getting generous care packages from his “fan-diies,” he begins to acquire copious amounts of gold and other items (like armor sets) that he otherwise would likely never have acquired on his own during the run, thus bending, if not breaking, the game to some extent. He is able to use the gold, for example, to buy up a bunch of items from a vendor, who then, after sufficient patronage, offers Raandyy a cool motorcycle mount. The mount ends up not moving significantly faster through the world than Raandyy could have on foot—particularly with his new impressive stash of swiftness potions courtesy of his fans—but it is glamorous, and its easy acquisition stands out in stark contrast to the early moments of the series when Griffin was forced to beg for money and sell Raandyy’s pants to make ends meet. The involvement of the “fan-diies” fundamentally changes the limitations and tone of run, and the way that they steadily play bigger roles in the series adds to the narrative appeal.

Raandyy checks the mail from his "fan-diies."

            The “fan-diies’” involvement begins small—with some fan letters and donations and the creation of characters that riff on the name “Raandyy”—but slowly expands to include multiple player factions that in some way use Raandyy’s name (Some are evil, of course), an inbox that takes increasingly long periods of time to empty during each episode, and a physical presence that enables Raandyy to accomplish what is arguably his most daring feat of the series so far, which is to infiltrate the hostile Horde capital and “smooch” their ruler. The entire sequence, which at one point involves Raandyy climbing onto a follower’s mount and then parachuting onto the roof of the capitol, plays so well mechanically and narratively when you consider that this dynamic with the fans began with a few letters and some reluctant interaction with one or two people in the wilderness.

Raandyy dropping in for a smooch through the power of teamwork.

            The whole story arc of the series first takes a turn, though, when a small group of “fan-diies” blocks for Raandyy as he tries to evade a hostile and make his next checkpoint on his journey in a town called Booty Bay. While the other players draw off the opposition, Griffin is able to race Raandyy into the town. In the episodes following this team-up, the “fan-diies” have only grown in number and in their significance to the narrative. There is the aforementioned gentle assault on the Horde, followed by an episode that is roughly the equivalent of the beach/hot spring episodes of an anime series, where Raandyy and friends simply go to a carnival and pal around. At this point, the future goals for the series seem to have shifted. Raandyy made his way across an entire continent on foot and mostly unaided, but the move to another continent and the carnival sequence have all been “fan-diies”-focused. The question becomes whether Raandyy will resume running around the world and, if so, what role his followers will play. Like any series, however, more escalation moving further away from the initial premise seems likely since Griffin noted after pulling off the smooch raid against the Horde that this was actually a little easier than he thought. With the help of the “fan-diies,” he has a lot of resources available to consider other self-selected goalposts for Raandyy to reach. One man’s quest to simply circumnavigate the world of Warcraft peacefully has evolved, even if the core values—of peace and kindness—have largely remained unchanged despite the more ambiguous “peaceful" characteristic becoming a bit more concrete with the decision to make Raandyy a vegan.

            Finally, I would like to say that one reason PeaceCraft and its creative use of existing game systems to accomplish imaginative, player-created goals appeals to me so much is that it reminds me of my childhood—when I knew that I wanted to make games but did not have the know-how or software. What I did instead was to sometimes create new narratives inside existing games like The Legend of Zelda and Spyro, sometimes for my younger brother and sometimes just for myself. What is really affecting to me about my experience as a child and about watching PeaceCraft is the way that videogames, which present limiting imaginative experiences with set parameters, can still be bent to some extent to the imagination of players in a manner reminiscent of the most basic state of “play,” where the only true limit is the player’s (or players’) imagination and where things like narrative and the goals for the game are not imposed but changeable. There is just something childlike and fun (albeit with a lot more swearing) to be found in PeaceCraft, which seems to find genuine elements of play in the process of playing a game with clear and obvious expectations for an entirely different sort of interaction with its world and systems. I do not think any substantial knowledge of World of Warcraft is necessary to enjoy the show either, so I would not worry too much about the MMORPG angle if you, like me, do not know much of anything about it. I started watching the series on a lark and ended up catching up on all six existing episodes in a single sitting. If you are at all into this sort of content (people talking over videogames on the internet), PeaceCraft is absolutely worth checking out. It is immensely charming, sweet, and features a fun narrative developing in real-time.

Link to the first episode of PeaceCraft: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqEGdSEOAis  

How Grand is the “Grand Mac”?

Take that, The Mainstream Media!

            When some people want to get effed up and have a regrettable time, they drink. When I get the same feeling, I seek out certain disreputable types of food—fallen foods, foods that have been divorced and then have remarried, the foods that loiter and smoke in conspicuous places and do not care that they’re not supposed to be there. The one dollar French bread pizzas and hotdogs, the forty-cent burritos, your assorted fast food-eries. I don’t reach for a bag of something illegal and my credit card; I go to Burger King. Or McDonald’s. This is a piece about McDonald’s and about their new Grand Mac and about whether it finally makes eating their burgers a comparable experience to going to, say, Hardee’s instead. What I mean by this is that I’ve never really enjoyed McDonald’s burgers from a value-for-your-dollar sort of angle apart from that brief stint where they had the Deluxe Quarter Pounder on the menu. The Deluxe Quarter Pounder was the closest McDonald’s, in my memory, has come to having some form of the Everyburger. You know it—your standard beef, cheese, tomato, pickle, onion, and lettuce deal that basically every other burger place has on its menu. When McDonald’s had the Deluxe Quarter Pounder, I got it exclusively when I went there to eat. It had all your standard burger toppings and was also bigger than their usual fare. Ultimately, the toppings are important, but size has been the problem. I like the taste of the regular Big Mac just fine, in fact, but I’ve never eaten one—as a part of a combo even—without feeling somewhat dissatisfied afterward, like I wanted more. But since I’m not a hedonist, I’m not going back for another burger; I’m going home thinking about how I should have eaten at Burger King instead even though I like McDonald’s fries better. (They are delicious stale. I love stale fries, from everywhere. I’m just an overcoat filled with raccoons, I swear. Quit stepping on my nose, Bob! Chitter chitter! Scritch scratch!) There is something very uniquely upsetting in this late-capitalist nightmare about wanting to spend your money on something and being held back from doing so for some reason.

            Enter the so-called Grand Mac. Like the Angry Whopper, this was a burger variant I’ve been magnetically drawn to, at least in part for the reasons mentioned above: that the prospect of A Big Mac But More makes me wonder if McDonald’s is finally going to give me my heart-clogging money’s worth in a single combo. I’ve been seeing ads on billboards around town, and I’ve even seen a few pictures of the G-Mac itself online; however, one question continued to nag me and make me at once both curious to try one myself and leery of getting burned. Everyone knows that fast food sandwich advertising is the equivalent of putting a glorious front door on a silo filled with manure. The ads present the most beautiful sandwich with the greenest lettuce and fluffiest bun, and you know that the actual thing is going to be squashed flat, with the fiber-y, white part of the lettuce leaf on it, and possibly the cheese so far so off-center that counting it as a part of the sandwich and not a side is generous. This isn’t a knock against the workers who prepare the food either. The simple truth of the matter is that advertising for any food product involves a little mendacity. We use glue instead of milk in cereal ads because milk isn’t actually white enough to look like milk. I’ve heard stories of lipstick on tomatoes to make the color pop more in advertising. The ideal sandwich—Sandwich Jesus, the Ubersandwich—doesn’t actually exist in a form we could (or would want) to consume. It’s a mirage. The real deal can’t measure up because the sandwich is just like us: the poor mortal cast in a mold that cracked irreparably when our heavenly counterparts sprang into being. The real sandwich behind the façade is us. We eat the sandwich to make peace with the fact that we will only ever be less than perfect. Less than perfect fare for less than perfect beings. We deserve one another. (Yes, Richard, we get that you went to seminary. Congratulations: You’re part of an ideological state apparatus.)

            Anyway. Looking at the promotional materials for the Grand Mac, I couldn’t quite tell what was so “grand” about it. How was it meant to be taller than the original Mac? The images and even product descriptions for the sandwich did not make this any clearer. There’s an extra slice of cheese on the bottom apparently, but the height differential between O-Mac and G-Mac is too large for the cheese alone to be the deciding factor.

            Maybe the patties are thicker? I thought, though, again, the images I was looking at didn’t suggest as much. I was starting think this was actually a painfully obvious trick. I’d been had by false promises of large sandwiches before. (We’re looking at you, Burger King’s Long Jalapeno Burger Thing with your actually small size so small that you weren’t actually any bigger than a regular burger somebody cut in half and then rearranged so that the thing was longer than it was wide.)

            The truth of the matter is that the presentation of the burger is the problem. McDonald’s ads kept stressing height, but as I mentioned before, height is ultimately a pointless quality to stress in the Urburger when your audience is well aware that the promise will be broken by the reality. The ads that I’ve seen try to pass the G-Mac off as taller than the O-Mac and the new Mac Jr. However, the height is actually comparable to that of an O-Mac on a good day (after the squashing). I noted this before I bought one when I was looking at photographs online. The reality is that the G-Mac is noticeably bigger than the O-Mac, but the ads stress the wrong dimension. The burger isn’t taller—It’s wider. I would say that the G-Mac is roughly the size of a Whopper, with the attendant wider patties the increased bunnage entails, and that’s a nice step up in size. After consuming the Mac and its fry brethren, I was pleased to find that I was experiencing the familiar somewhat queasy over-stuffed feeling I usually get after eating this stuff. This was after going some time without a meal, mind, and being in a mood to really Consume something.

 

As you can see here, height is clearly not the G-Mac's greatest strength.

            In terms of taste and quality, this is just more Mac we’re talking about here. Do you like Mac? If so, then you’ll like this Mac too. The one possible downside is that more surface area means more of that delicious Mac sauce, and said sauce has an admittedly strong sweet/tangy taste that might be a bit much depending on how much you get of it. This is a factor that might vary from McDonald’s to McDonald’s and from saucertizer to saucertizer. It wasn’t a huge deal, but I did think to myself that it might be possible to have too much of the sauce on the burger. On the other hand, the mere possibility of excess is a mark in the G-Mac’s favor when you consider my original dissatisfaction with the value I was getting in the O-Mac…

*The clarion call of someone tossing a fresh bag of garbage into a dumpster sounds in the dusk.*

            in conclusion tha g-marcis very good for….. if you loved Mcd’s but alays wantd morjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjkl;k;

Editor’s Note: I have just been informed that Ira M. Humanington is not actually a journalist but is instead a pack of raccoons hiding inside a trench coat. Mr. Humanington no longer writes for the site as of this time, and loyal patrons should disregard anything untoward he might have previously posed about either this country, its president, or the sweet, sweet taste of hot garbage. (We’re trying to remove it.) Please be advised that there may be more hungry raccoons attempting to pull the wool over the eyes of the citizens of America; therefore, if you encounter any journalists, you should assume that they are all actually a pack of raccoons disguised as a human being until the truth of the matter can be determined. I recommend packing your pockets full of raw, stinking garbage. If the journalist begins to disintegrate into a squirming pile of hungry raccoons, you can then throw them the garbage to buy you time to escape. May God have mercy on us all. 

Life and True Detective

“Pain is inexhaustible. It’s only people that get exhausted.” – Ray Velcoro, True Detective (season two)

*The following post contains spoilers for seasons one and two of True Detective (if you have not seen them already and/or care).*

            I started to write something on HBO’s True Detective a while ago shortly after finishing the first season; however, I ultimately tabled it because I felt that the show had already been written about to death. I did not think I could contribute much to a discussion that had been going on for over a year (which is about how long it took for me to actually watch season one after it aired). I recently watched season two, though, and I think the time has come to say something—partly because of True Detective and partly because of how I can use True Detective as an excuse to talk about myself a little bit. When I started this blog, I decided that I was going to keep personal stuff to a minimum because of how unsatisfying I find those posts in retrospect and how I would like to keep the personal information about me online to a minimum. That being said, I have certainly had the urge to get personal, especially after the election last fall. There is a recurring concept in season two of True Detective mostly centered on Vince Vaughn’s character that I feel really applies to what I experienced waking up on November 9^th, 2016. At several points, Frank Semyon mentions that there are times in a person’s life that essentially split their life—There’s you before and you after. This is a salient theme for the season, of course, because the whole thing, much like the first, is concerned with fatalism, and arguably the night that three of the four main characters are all called to the scene where missing Vinci city manager Ben Caspere’s body has been discovered is one such moment. Their lives are irrevocably split, as the past is gone and they enter into the phase that will lead to their destruction.

            In retrospect, the election was absolutely one of those moments for me. I am genuinely not exaggerating here when I say that it split my fall. I remember the events prior to the day, of course, but they feel abnormally far removed from me. It feels like I jumped forward a decade in a day. Obviously the sensation I just described suggests which side I was rooting for, though I do not really want to dwell on the particulars of that personal interest. Generally, what I will say is that I have never been involved in politics before, and I got really invested in this presidential election. The ultimate denouement of all that emotional and mental investment just… did something to me. This is not going to turn into a “woe is me” or End of the World-type diatribe, but that day felt like a split that I did not really appreciate until I watched season two of True Detective and discovered a metric by which to judge real life—and regardless of whether you wanted Trump to win or not, I think this election marks a clear divide in the lives of all of us. There was life before November 8^th, and now there is life after November 8^th. 

            I somehow managed to watch both seasons of True Detective at oddly appropriate moments in my life. I watched the first one the summer I was job hunting and feeling pretty desperate—old, bad thoughts creeping back in. Season one of True Detective is very pessimistic, but it ends with a moment of hope. Rust Cohle, our consummate doomsayer, returns from his near-death experience with the realization that there is something else out there. Life does not end pointlessly with death. As bad as things are or seem, there is more to existence than just the bad. It is a powerful moment for the character and for the audience since it is the moment we end on. A show all about fatalism and pessimism ends with hope instead.

            Conversely, season two carries its gloomy outlook through to the end—Almost everyone “good” dies from their involvement in the Caspere case. Paul guns down multiple armed assailants only to be shot and killed by a surprise attack from behind as he is about to get away. Ray’s final message of hope for his son never reaches him. Not only does Frank die, but he discovers that he actually dies before he realizes that he did—His spirit kept dragging itself across the desert unaware, futilely, and in pain for longer than was necessary. Ani and Jordan Semyon find one another and seem to have formed an unconventional family unit with Ani and Ray’s child and Frank’s former bodyguard at the end, but the message that Ani leaves us with before she and the others disappear into a crowd is not one of hope. The bad guys won, and the institutions that enabled them and are run by them still exist. All Frank and Ray and Paul did was get themselves killed for nothing. And, of course, the tagline for the season is that “we get the world we deserve.” While season one definitely has a fatalistic outlook for much of the season, it ends with hope. Season two does not stop bearing down. Post-election, that story spoke to me as many of us (mainly well-meaning white folks) have realized for the first time how fallible and corrupt our institutions can be and have been under Democrats and Republicans alike. What people like me—I will admit it—are learning the hard way after the election is what so many people living here—the poor, people of color, LGBTQ folks—have always known: That the world we live in is cruel. Not just spiritually but literally. Institutionally—legislatively, executively, judicially—the deck is stacked against people and always has been. Some of us just have not been paying attention because it was not quite as threatening to us personally for a long time.

            What we do with our real world problems, I do not know.

            As far as the critically-divisive True Detective season two goes, though, I can offer these thoughts: I do not think it is anywhere near as bad as some people made out to be. I liked it a lot, in fact. By the last two episodes in particular the show has built up a sizeable amount of momentum and concludes with real pathos. I think the biggest problem with the season is not its perhaps overly-complicated conspiracy but its technical side. I do not think either the cinematography or direction of season two are on the same level as that on display in season one, and arguably this comes in part from the fact that no one director gets to leave a clear mark on the show this time around. Everything is competent, but it seems workmanlike. There are few interesting or “artsy” shots, and I think the missing visual surrealism makes the dialogue, which sometimes goes for verisimilitude but also often swerves hard into Don DeLillo territory, come off as silly a lot of the time. The straightforward presentation makes the heightened dialogue seem ridiculous when it should be poignant. Season one had the striking Southern Gothic atmosphere and scenery, but all season two gets is some occasional mystical oddness (Ray’s dream of his father that predicts his death, Frank’s dying conversation with spirits, and Paul’s girlfriend’s recognition of his death the moment it occurs) and a lot of shots of busy freeways. Although the freeway motif works well—suggests “transit” between scenes, communicates the busy criss-cross of the mystery and the looming interconnectedness of the conspiracy—it does not create the same sense of place that season one’s wilderness did. Although the show is no longer a Southern Gothic tale, a correspondingly meaningful use of California scenery seems to be missing, though the creative title credits suggest what might have been. 

            Otherwise, I think season two is a worthy successor to the first. Yes, I liked Vince Vaughn’s performance, though it grew on me over time, and I still do not know if he had the range to really sell more intimate moments like Frank’s rumination on the water stain. In some regards, I think season two is better than season one. The first season introduced a similar conspiracy of affluent people but ended with a showdown with a backwoods handyman without saying much of anything about how the audience should feel about the other guilty parties still at large. Season two does a much better job at demonstrating the vastness of its conspiracy and following that thread to its natural conclusion—that someone uncovering such a thing would be utterly crushed in order to maintain the status quo. Insofar as season two can be said to be the “worst self” of the short-running series, I would argue that it is also its “best self” thematically, and I think those themes are now very resonant with our times.

Keijo!!!!!!!!: Or, The Little Butt That Could

Keijo!!!!!!!!'s protagonist (Nozomi Kaminashi) attacking with her butt.[1]

             I really liked the first episode of Keijo!!!!!!!! I can say with complete confidence that I have never watched any episode of any series (Japanese or otherwise) before that left me thinking “I cannot wait until next week when that older woman beats up those young girls with her ass!” My unironic enjoyment of this show might come as something of a surprise, though, if you know anything about either Keijo!!!!!!!! or the sort of content I usually post here (specifically the “political” content of much of that content). For those who might not be familiar with one or the other, here’s a quick run-down: 1) The title of the show “Keijo” refers to a supposed sport where female players try to knock one another off a floating platform into the water using only their breasts or buttocks; 2) I once wrote and posted a 14-page essay on Mad Max: Fury Road and feminism, and my most popular post so far has been one on Mr. Robot and the concept of women in refrigerators. Given that Keijo!!!!!!!! so openly objectifies women and is clearly intended to be about 90% fanservice (read: total wank-bait), one’s assumption might reasonably be that this post is going to be a criticism in the strictest sense of the term. However, that isn’t my goal here.

            Although I saw certain voices online speculating that this show would rile the ole so-called “SJWs” up something fierce, as someone with an abiding interest in social politics and in examining social issues in media, I don’t see any good reason to write about Keijo!!!!!!!! like that. To be blunt: Keijo!!!!!!!! is what it is. There’s nothing insidious about it to be called out. It wears its dedication to T&A on its sleeve, and that’s all there is to it. It’s hard to get angry at a show so open about its interests. The far more annoying offenders, in my opinion, are the anime series that pretend to be about something else but then spend a lot of their time slyly trying to cater to horny fans. Knights of Sidonia is a lot more irritating to me in this regard since it’s principally a drama that nonetheless gets completely sidetracked in its second season with “erotic” will-they-won’t-they-ness that ultimately means nothing since anyone familiar with the genre knows that they absolutely will not even as the show continues to go all in on the male lead—a bland stand-in for the ostensible straight, male viewer—literally having sexual tension with every woman he meets so that people can experience erotic drama featuring the “waifu” of their choice. If there was any chance at all of the protag actually having sex, this would bother me less, but the show seems determined to avoid it so that no fans are disappointed that their stand-in isn’t getting busy with their lady of choice. By continually dangling sex in front of viewers with no intention of ever actually engaging with it or its consequences, the show essentially exists to keep viewers in a horny limbo. It’s the most exploitative, cheap carrot-on-a-stick treatment of romantic drama, with such an obvious hook that the fact that it continues to also pretend to be a serious space drama is downright insulting. The poorly-executed subterfuge is annoying and worth discussing since the series claims one thing while doing another.

            Keijo!!!!!!!! by comparison is frank about its intentions. It’s all wank-bait all the time and doesn’t give a crap. There’s no viewer stand-in either, and, ironically, the show passes the Bechdel-Wallace test, with a large female cast that absolutely focus on things other than men. Furthermore, the fanservice in Keijo!!!!!!! is hardly worse than that of other anime series. As much as it may angle to focus extra hard on butts and boobs, the actual imagery—at least in the first episode—isn’t much hornier than what you would find elsewhere. The act of beating opponents into submission with boobs or butts is as unerotic as possible, and the ludicrous breast jiggle is so over-done that it’s more humorous than hot. My impression of the series thus far, despite all the jokes I’ve seen in comments sections where viewers shout about how much “fapping” they’re doing, is that the only sort of person who could find this genuinely arousing is someone turned on by the mere presence of breasts and butts—in which case they probably get as much out of a trip to the dentist or grocery store as they do out of this ostensibly fanservice-focused show.

            I specified the first episode above because I do feel that the second chapter goes to considerably greater lengths to show off the characters’ bodies with carefully-chosen camera angles, but the context for much of these shots is still more ludicrous than erotic. In fact, one of the things that I love about Keijo!!!!!!!! is that it is low-key hilarious. The premise of the “sport” of Keijo is so completely stupid—and impossible given that butts and boobs are not unfeeling bits of the body and couldn’t be slammed together like this in first place—and the execution of the characters’ various butt- or boob-based attacks is so over-the-top that the show is probably one of the funniest things I have seen in a while; however, Keijo!!!!!!!! is less laugh-out-loud funny than it is low-key funny and genuinely engaging. There is nothing tongue-in-cheek about the show, and this approach to its ridiculousness is a big part of its appeal (comedic and otherwise). I could easily imagine a version of this series that was constantly winking at the viewer and acknowledging its attempted sexiness and wacky premise—and I could also easily imagine the approach becoming tiresome quickly. Instead, Keijo!!!!!!!! takes itself completely seriously. It still has comedic moments, but it treats the sporting event at its core with complete seriousness. The girls’ ambitions to become the best Keijo players are dramatically treated as well. The “races” they participate in are played straight and are animated in a more traditional style: significantly less exaggerated or over-the-top visually than something like Kill la Kill (though the action occurring has more in common with that other series than it does with a true sports or action anime). The result is that Keijo!!!!!!!! is both funny to watch but also genuinely engaging since the drama is real, with no winking required. I would compare it to something like JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, another series known for its core of consistent weirdness.[2] One of my favorite blogs is one that posts panels from the JoJo manga without other context in order to show off the ridiculous stuff that becomes even more ridiculous in a vacuum.[3] You can do something similar with Keijo!!!!!!!!.

            Here’s an example from the first episode: One of the characters in the show has a move where she can be standing flat-footed in front of an opponent and then pivot and hit them in the jaw so quickly with her butt that they A) can’t see the attack coming and B) are immediately rendered unconscious. This is physically impossible of course, and it’s also very silly; however, Keijo!!!!!!!! treats this move and the main character’s assessment of it and attempted defense against it with action anime drama. There’s no sword involved, but techniques like this one (or the MC’s “Butt Cannon,” another character’s great butt that makes her opponent think they’re looking at a pair of boobs instead, or a “Butt Guillotine”) are as dramatically presented and animated as anything out of, say, Bleach. The fights are over-hyped and over-dramatized like any other anime. Self-awareness is absent; therefore, the show manages to be funnier and genuinely engaging. The premise also readily lends itself well to the usual action anime escalation of powers. I don’t know what Keijo!!!!!!!!’s version of the old anime “This isn’t even my final form!” is, but I can’t wait to see it.  

Sayaka Miyata using her butt to confuse an opponent.[1]

            With regard to specific episodes, I would say that the first is significantly stronger than the second. I wanted to see at least two before writing some kind of review to see if the quality would drop, and it definitely does. Keijo!!!!!!!!’s first episode is exceptionally well-executed. The first episode of any series always has a lot of ground to cover—The premise has to be established, the foundation of a world built, characters introduced, and some kind of potential or promise demonstrated. A premiere has to juggle more than any later episode because it has to introduce so much and still be satisfying to watch. It needs to be forward-thinking without sacrificing the experience of the Now. Keijo!!!!!!!! is great in every regard because it pulls all this off with aplomb. The sport is introduced before the opening credits along with our main character and her dreams of going pro. These introductions are accompanied by some action—a little taste of the weirdness to come as one Keijo player flies butt-first into another. The setting is also suggested here (some near-future in a world not unlike our own). From there, the protag enters a Keijo academy as we meet more characters before flashing back to an extended action sequence in which we meet more characters and start to see some more of the ridiculous butt and breast attacks. We then return to the present to meet more characters before the episode ends with the promise of a showdown between our core group of girls in training and an older teacher. In roughly twenty minutes, the premiere of Keijo!!!!!!!! includes two action sequences (one much longer than the other), introduces its initial group of major players as well as its premise and world, has time for a more intimate conversation between the MC and her close friend, and then ends with the promise of more crazy action right out of the gate next time. None of this feels rushed either. It’s well-paced and well-animated. Even outside its role as the point of origin for a whole series, “Setouchi Keijo Training School!!!!" is a remarkable bit of television, and I would argue that if you’re on the fence about the series that watching this one episode should give you everything you need to make a decision.

            On the other hand, "The Hip Toss Brings Us Together!!!!" isn’t nearly as well-executed. For one thing, the animation of the single, brief fight sequence isn’t as good. Granted, I do understand why. I’d rather Keijo!!!!!!!! save some money now to pump into bigger, more important action-heavy moments down the road. At the same time, the brevity of what we get here in terms of combat is pretty disappointing. To add insult to injury, the actual practice “race”—the one teased at the end of the first episode—doesn’t occur until near the end of this second chapter. The rest of the episode is a flashback to training that happened before the bout occurs; however, since the episode doesn’t offer any indication of this, I was initially very confused, thinking at one point that I had actually missed something somewhere despite the fact that this was clearly labeled as episode two. Denying viewers the fight until the end with no clear signposting of where the training that dominates the episode fits into the timeline is a bad move narratively. It denies the viewer what they were promised and is also just confusing to watch. The bulk of the episode is about teamwork and bonds the core group of girls and is completely fine. We get to see the girls lift weights with their butts and walk on their butts to train, and it’s all appropriately silly. Episode two is still funny, but its narrative problems throw things off a bit. The capper on the comparative disappointment of the installment comes when the long-awaited “race” at the end just ends. The MC uses a new butt move and her instructor remarks on it as we cut suddenly to the protagonist in a weird, new swimsuit which the other members of the core group briefly comment on before the episode abruptly ends. The timing on the cuts between these last two scenes is awful. There’s no clear sense of transition between them, and then the episode goes to the credits without hinting anything about the function of the new suit or offering anything like a tease to keep viewers watching next week. It’s functional but very bland compared to the first installment, and my continued interest has more to do with the aforementioned promise of crazy escalation down the line set up in episode one than it does with anything that happened this week. Overall, it’s a clear step backward, with more explicit fanservice and less to counterbalance it.

            Despite the disappointment of the second episode, I have high hopes for Keijo!!!!!!!! Again, I say this as someone who doesn’t find the premise or its execution erotic, but I spent a lot of time thinking about the first episode after I watched it. The inherently silly drama of anime treated seriously and coupled with the inherent nonsense of the show’s premise really appeals to me in ways that more overtly comedic series—like One Punch Man, for instance—have not. I’m currently watching the new Berserk anime, which I also like a lot, but the perfect storm of Keijo!!!!!!!!’s first episode occupied my thoughts like the other shows I’ve watched this season have not. I was legitimately, unironically excited to see what happened next, and that’s the biggest endorsement of Keijo!!!!!!!! that I can offer. I encountered the show through the most roundabout method possible, though. I know I’ve seen panels from the “scanlated” manga posted on Twitter before with no sense of what series they belonged to. I also saw someone more recently use a gif of the series’ action in a joke about how much better this butt-fighting series is than Berserk (given the latter show’s overuse of janky-looking CGI). I still didn’t know what it was. Practically the next day, I saw another panel from the manga on someone’s timeline and then immediately Googled “ass fighting manga,” which led me to Keijo!!!!!!!! It feels serendipitous in a way, so I’ll be keeping an eye on this one to see if it reaches the heights that I anticipate for it.  

Notes:

[1] Both images used in this post come from The Reviewer’s Corner’s wonderfully-titled “Keijo!!!!!!!! Ep 1 Review: Nothing BUTT Sports Here.” Their review provides a detailed summary of the plot of the first episode and also includes the thoughts of someone with experience with the Keijo!!!!!!!! manga if you’re curious: https://josefcd904.wordpress.com/2016/10/13/keijo-ep-1-review-nothing-butt-sports-here/

[2] I would also compare Keijo!!!!!!!! to professional wrestling. I think enjoying either requires an unironic investment on the part of the viewer. Wrestling is ludicrous (and fake), but it treats its ludicrousness seriously. Watching professional wrestling without being able to suspend disbelief seems like a recipe for frustration—You would keep watching and waiting for someone to wink, but no one does. Both Keijo!!!!!!!! and pro wrestling know that they’re looney; however, they double-down on it rather than trying to play it off for the cynical, ironic humor one might expect. There’s an earnestness—even purity—to this approach that makes them engaging to watch… because they are engaging; they’re just also low-key batshit insane.

[3] This is the blog in question: http://outofcontextjojo.tumblr.com/