It’s hard to remember if I did anything routinely as a child. I remember that Sundays were dedicated to cleaning up around the house — dividing the tasks of sweeping, dishes and laundry among my siblings to get everything in order by Monday morning so my mom wouldn’t panic. I remember having Saturday school dedicated to learning different languages because my mom was so insistent on the benefit of learning a foreign language outweighing the cost of a Saturday morning to a child.

However, most of all, I remember that every weekend, without fail, I would watch a show with my siblings so intensely that any outside onlookers would think it was our lifeblood. We would set a weekly alarm on our phones, set up the living room for the occasion and were only willing to move from our seats for some sort of divine intervention (or our mom calling us to do something we had forgotten, which might as well have been the same thing to a child). I have vivid memories of my brother making popcorn while my sister and I would rearrange the seats in our living room to watch “Gravity Falls.” We’d check with one another that all of the chores were done before settling in on the same couch to glue our eyes to the screen and scream the theme song together and out-of-tune.

I now have a hard time remembering things that I used do as a child, but I can still recite half the opening to “Dragon Ball Z: Kai.” Whenever I happen to be reminded of a show’s theme, my brain catapults me back to the early 2010s, and I have no choice but to recite as much as I possibly can of it from memory — and if I’m lucky, other people around me join in on this too. With theme songs come social agreements that certain songs follow you from your childhood, and that the memories along with those songs are more often than not shared across households as certain big reveals, heartfelt moments and incredible action sequences touch all who watched it in similar ways. A sort of mutual understanding is established in this acknowledgment and connecting with others begins to seem easier. I often think about how I made my first friend in middle school by humming the opening to the anime “Parasyte” under my breath, leading me to immediately rattle on about the show to the person next to me when asked about it. And of course, though it’s not technically a theme song, it would be criminal to not mention the Pavlovian response that singing the beginning of “All Star” by Smash Mouth can cause in any person who has even heard of “Shrek.”

With community comes understanding, and mutual knowledge of theme songs offers a sense of inherent understanding that is difficult to conjure otherwise. The implementation of a song in a show can dictate what that sound is supposed to mean to others who are also familiar with it, like how “Steel Licks” from “SpongeBob SquarePants” is indicative of an unfortunate event or how “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar softens the hearts of all those who know the significance of it to the show “Steven Universe,” melodies guiding our minds to places and emotions they would never be otherwise. The ability of music to repave paths in our brains long forgotten to late-night television and droopy eyelids is something that isn’t fully recognized or appreciated. That is, until a theme song that you remember from when you were seven is played and you somehow know all the words without having remembered the song in ages. Such is the human mind, and such is the wonderful phenomena of music that we are privy to.

The power of memory that comes with music is nothing new, but it’s still nice to take a pause and consider the things theme songs have given us and continue to give us: lost memories of me begging my mom to take me back to Saturday school later than she should so I could finish the newest episode of “My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic” with my sister, singing battles with my brothers over who could recite the entirety of the 2014 “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” theme song faster and spending summer nights learning the “Gravity Falls” theme on the piano to pass the time. I still remember these moments because of the music that played with it, the passion that came with it and the people I shared them with. And I couldn’t imagine capturing them in a more perfect way.

Daily Arts Writer Avery Adaeze Uzoije can be reached at auzoije@umich.edu.

The post Stuck on replay: How theme songs stay with us appeared first on The Michigan Daily.

One of the scariest moments of my life was when I was 7 years old and watching the new episodes of Pendleton Ward’s (“Bravest Warriors”) “Adventure Time” with my siblings. There was a time when we would religiously watch it every week, obsessed with the ridiculous plot lines and hilarious characters. However, this particular set of episodes was not quite as funny as the others. I remember being horrified the first time I saw what was to be the main antagonist of “Adventure Time” cause such a face of hopelessness in Finn (Jeremy Shada, “Julie and the Phantoms”) and Jake (John DiMaggio, “Futurama”) as The Lich (Ron Perlman, “Hellboy”) causes them to almost die by taking over their minds. True terror had never been instilled in me as much as a single word from The Lich could — his icy breath being able to take down the seemingly invincible Finn with one word, the insinuation that he couldn’t die and would never die, the thought that it took all of Ooo to trap him and that it would take all of Ooo to trap him again. Never having experienced such an intense atmosphere in a show, I can’t explain the sheer degree of fear I felt at that time. It was a scene that I would be afraid of for years to come, and one that still sends shivers down my spine.

Of course, I now recognize the incredible storytelling of the writers behind “Adventure Time,” utilizing absurdist concepts to emphasize the more serious episodes of the series that followed. However, the only reason I know that now is because that terrifying scene was burned into my brain for more than a decade. Although Ward is an absolute monster for giving enjoyers of animation around the world nightmares through this show and others that he has created, like “The Midnight Gospel,” he has also made it clear that children’s media are often only appreciated fully when it is as ridiculous as it is terrifying. Now, I am not saying that we should simply traumatize all children for the fun of it. But by incorporating semi-nightmare fuel into the right places and at the right amounts, one is left with a creation that is most memorable, intriguing and meaningful. 

Another great example of a show full of terror: “Gravity Falls.” More like “Adventure Time” in its exploration of absurdism, its occasional terrifying themes made it an extremely memorable piece of media. For example, the very first episode is oriented towards showcasing how weird of a town Gravity Falls is in the first place without necessarily tackling that concept in a scary way. Instead, it introduces the “strangeness” of the town with a red herring: A character who is seemingly a zombie but instead turns out to be a bunch of gnomes stacked on top of one another. Something so ridiculous is not considerably scary in any way, allowing the episodes that followed to shock its viewers with genuinely terrifying themes and plotlines that ultimately offered deeper, more impactful messages. I still remember the absolute insanity that went on in my household when the season two midseason finale of “Gravity Falls” aired, as the stakes were high and my siblings and I all genuinely believed that Mabel (Kristen Schaal, “Bob’s Burgers”) was going to get the entire town killed. I still think about what that scene means to me — about the message of trusting one’s heart over everything else, and how wonderful of a season finale it was because of it. The genuine fear in my heart made that message all the sweeter, and I don’t know if I would have remembered that episode as well otherwise.

However, horror in children’s media does not always mean one will remember the points of each episode for the better. For example, “Courage the Cowardly Dog,” a popular show in the early 2000s, has memorable characters and themes, but not too many memorable plot points. This is likely due to the sheer consistency of terrifying characters in every episode, as the show is centered around main character Courage’s overactive imagination. This allows the artist to load the show with nightmare fuel in extraordinarily clever and thoughtful ways. The over-exaggerated animation style of each episode’s antagonist along with the genuinely terrifying situations the characters would be put through was more than enough to make the show scary as all hell. However, it didn’t have the dichotomy between horror and lighthearted absurdity that most other memorable shows with a scary nature do. Although I am certain “Courage the Cowardly Dog” had many intriguing life lessons (as most children’s media does), I cannot recall the lesson nor the plot of a single episode, due to how terrifying all of them were. That, along with the fact that most media in the early ’00s opted towards pocket episodes rather than consistent storylines, makes it difficult to truly remember what sort of stories “Courage the Cowardly Dog” told in the first place.

Horror without a purpose made the sights memorable, but it feels nearly impossible to remember the plot that came with it. This doesn’t mean that any show that focuses more on pocket episodes or artistry than plot is a bad show, but it does make it less effective on the viewer in the long-run. The creators of “Courage the Cowardly Dog” were wise and creative enough to have antagonists portrayed with several different forms of art media with different reasons they were scary, but nonetheless it is hard to remember it for anything but being a beautifully scary show. There is only so much variation that can be portrayed in a deserted field with a single house, and the show did amazingly with what it had. Meanwhile, shows like “Gravity Falls” and “Adventure Time” emphasize other aspects of the worlds they’ve created, making the terrifying parts even scarier because it was possible to contrast it from the other encounters the protagonists had. 

Overall, I have come to learn that being scared for a large portion of my childhood due to the media I watched was less harmful to my psyche than one would guess. Fear ensures that important messages properly stick to one’s memory, citing back moments and feelings whenever a significant decision is to be made. A show might scare a child, but it is more important that a child learns that fear is a regular emotion that is to be understood and accepted as normal and temporary. Good children’s media teaches kids to overcome those fears, trust themselves and always look forward to being braver and better — just as Finn from “Adventure Time,” Mabel from “Gravity Falls” and Courage from “Courage the Cowardly Dog” taught me.

Daily Arts Writer Adaeze Uzoije can be reached at auzoije@umich.edu.

The post Face your fears: Finding the good in being terrified by cartoons appeared first on The Michigan Daily.

Season one of “Next in Fashion” premiered in early 2020 with the impression that it would be a more inclusive version of other landmark fashion competition shows like “Project Runway.” The first season fell short of its potential to show the camaraderie that can exist in the fashion industry. The lack of respect shown to Black women for their designs, as well as the consistent fascination with East Asian contestants and their storytelling abilities (while providing criticism of their non-Western designs), drew attention away from the show itself. If one was not willing to disregard all methods of critical thinking before opening Netflix, it would be hard to enjoy what season one of “Next in Fashion” had to offer. However, Tan France (“Queer Eye”) and Gigi Hadid (debut) truly delivered as co-hosts in the new season, demonstrating not only an improvement in the show but in reality television as a whole.

“Next in Fashion’s” second season follows the same premise as its first: 12 up-and-coming fashion designers grind through 10 fashion challenges, competing for $200,000. All the while, the two co-hosts provide commentary and offer their explanations of why the selected competitors for the next episode deserve to become the “next in fashion.” Famous guest judges like fashion legend Donatella Versace and American model Hailey Bieber also spice up each episode, and their areas of expertise aid the co-hosts in deciding who is a winner and who should be eliminated.

The show highlights aspects of the fashion industry that are often disregarded. The difficulties of running a business while having a family, the existence of disabled people in the fashion community and the importance of accessibility of fashion to people of all socioeconomic stances were themes all heavily addressed throughout the show. Each competitor’s sheer amount of talent was not lost on the judges; everyone’s inspirations and backgrounds were thoroughly respected with each assessment of clothing. The body and age diversity of the models also pushed the notion that anyone from any background can engage in fashion and enjoy it. This is especially apparent in one of the designers, Nigel Xavier, known for his patchwork designs that originated from his inability to buy expensive clothes as a child. The judges respected his streetwear designs and pushed him to model women as well, rather than limit his clothing to male models. The constructive criticism offers a more diverse perspective on who can wear what, thus pushing the envelope of what streetwear looks like. 

Even so, the irony bleeds through this reality television show in regard to all of the things it claims to fight against. The fashion industry has a tendency to mask its ridicule of the idea of reusing clothing and of people from lower socioeconomic backgrounds with progressive ideals in an attempt to distract the consumer from the problems the industry perpetuates. This is made most apparent in the episode focused on sustainability, in which the designers must use old articles of clothing to make new ones. An episode about sustainability on a show where every garment of clothing would likely only be worn once seems like a sitcom joke. Not only that, but the constant use of the word “cheap” as an insult for the appearance of clothing goes against the idea that fashion should be affordable without harming others.

Even with vast improvements, “Next in Fashion” still has a long way to go before it can no longer be considered problematic. Nonetheless, the spirit raging in all of the designers to make it in the fashion world along with the beautiful products that come out of each challenge makes this show great binge material. One can only hope that with every new season comes further improvement, and “Next in Fashion” seems like a show capable of that.

Daily Arts Writer Avery Adaeze Uzoije can be reached at auzoije@umich.edu.

The post ‘Next in Fashion’ constantly improves on its message appeared first on The Michigan Daily.

In 1981, comedian Mel Brooks (“Spaceballs”) released “History of the World: Part I,” a film that retells foundational historical events through a comedic lens, offering alternative and blatantly incorrect explanations of how they happened. Although the movie features several hilarious bits that are still referenced to this day and Brooks is widely considered a comedy legend, it is also notorious for being potentially problematic with its shock humor and poor portrayal of people of Color, women and religious minorities in the U.S. At the end of the movie, there are jokes hinting at a sequel that presumably would never come. However, after 42 years, Mel Brooks has at long last returned to bring “History of the World: Part II” to life through a new television series.

Given how legendary “History of the World: Part I” was, there was no doubt that the revival would be incredibly popular. The show has several big-name writers such as Nick Kroll (“Big Mouth”) and Wanda Sykes (“The New Adventures of Old Christine”) and actors Jack Black (“Kung Fu Panda”) and Dove Cameron (“Liv and Maddie”). Though all of these actors perform their parts and lines incredibly well, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the lines themselves are actually funny. 

Brooks is known for his comedy method of throwing anything at the wall and seeing what sticks, and that is incredibly obvious in this series. It’s hard to believe that the same series contains a clever pun on the Kama Sutra originally being a book about sex positions and soup (Kama Soup-tra) and an entire three minutes of soldiers vomiting in a boat on D-Day. With the humor ranging from funny parodies of less Eurocentric history to bathroom jokes with no punchline, it’s clear that the hits are as big as the misses are with this show, having both hilarious elaborations on simple jokes and incredibly unfortunate bits that go on for way too long.

It’s also easy to tell that “History of the World: Part II” was made to get modern-day audiences interested in Brooks’ work rather than for his old fans. As Hulu released the trailer for the sequel, several complaints from conservative fans rolled out about Brooks going “woke” in the progressive push to stray away from offensive humor. This backlash not only indicates who Brooks’ humor was catered toward, it indicates how much the original movie and the series that followed differ.

From a baseline standpoint, “History of the World: Part I” was problematic because, in its attempts to satirize the experiences of marginalized communities throughout history, it mostly ends up punching down on them. It doesn’t help that it does so while being historically inaccurate in its depiction of marginalized groups in the time periods shown. For example, all of the people of Color in the movie are depicted as slaves or prostitutes in the “Roman Empire” segment, but the Roman slavery system was not based on race. A historical inaccuracy added in to further ridicule people of Color leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth at best and is a really bad “joke” at worst. Though there are some incredible hits, like “The Ten Commandments,” the movie overall is a product of its time and is hard to enjoy if one is not used to Brooks’ style of humor.

“History of the World: Part II” does much better in regard to representation while still keeping an atmosphere of hilarity. With the wide range of writers and the general filtering that Hulu tends to do for its shows, there are fewer occasions where humor surfaces that could be considered offensive. However, because there are so many more writers with so many different styles of comedy, the bits can either be incredibly funny or incredibly unfunny. Still, the show has a sense of continuity for some plot lines, making it easier to get through than the movie while also offering more opportunities for jokes regarding certain aspects of history.

It’s difficult to speak on the show as a whole series due to differences in writing, but overall, it is undeniable that making the sequel a TV series was the best move. Not only that, making the history less Eurocentric offers both learning and more original content for satirical enjoyment. “History of the World: Part II” is a little bit like “Family Guy”: easy to watch clips of, but entire episodes can feel hard to get through. The disjointedness of segments makes the hit-or-miss aspects with different types of writing all too obvious. Even so, the series still replicates the more hilarious parts of the original movie and is a respectable sequel given the circumstances and the modernization it underwent.

Daily Arts Contributor Adaeze Uzoije can be reached at auzoije@umich.edu.

The post ‘History of the World: Part II’ is better than the original, but not great appeared first on The Michigan Daily.

Lunella Lafayette was introduced to the Marvel Universe in 2015 in the first issue of “Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur,” making way for a new storyline to be built from the bond between the girl genius and her accidental dinosaur sidekick. In the comics, their story begins with Devil Dinosaur meeting Lunella by chance, forced to work together through a series of amusing circumstances. This leads Lunella to be an accidental superhero and grow to learn more about how she came to be a supergenius in the first place. The comics did not get much notoriety from the public eye — likely because the comic characters weren’t well-known and Marvel is better known for its cinematic universe, but that did not stop Disney+ from picking up the story to create an animated series based on the comics. “Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur” is not the most faithful adaptation, but the show’s focus on Lunella (Diamond White, “Pinky Malinky”) uplifting her community with her power rather than the original, more depressing origins of Moon Girl makes for an amazing children’s show and is an excellent example of Black joy in media.

Admittedly, the show “Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur” is incredibly different from the comic book series. One of the most jarring differences is the fact that Lunella Lafayette is an ordinary 13-year-old girl in the show instead of the “inhuman” 9-year-old she is in the comics. With this change, the show takes on a jubilant vibe rather than a serious one. While the original comics focus on the isolation Lunella faces due to her intellect and her struggles with being superhuman, the show emphasizes Lunella learning to engage with her community and peers. The route the production team took for Moon Girl’s story is more appropriate for a children’s show. It emphasizes hope and joy in a community that needs more of it rather than turning towards the more depressing aspects of Lunella’s origin.  

The idea for the adaptation of “Moon Girl and the Devil Dinosaur” was sparked by Laurence Fishburne (“Black-ish”), who, according to executive producer Steve Loter (“Kim Possible”), fell in love with the comic and wanted to relay the story to a wider, younger audience. Loter, Helen Sugland (“Black-ish”) and Rodney Clouden (“Futurama”) are just a few of the many names Fishburne reached out to for his production team so he could make his dream a reality. All of these creators have had experience telling the stories of young women (some being women of Color) through an animated lens. These different perspectives allow for the series to truly communicate the experiences of a girl of color accurately while also seamlessly incorporating a supervillain beat-down in every episode.

Having such a talented crew behind the creation of the show “Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur” was bound to make it a success, and it certainly was. Considering that it won an award despite airing for less than a month and has received review upon review raving over its animation, music and characters, it is clear that the show stands on its own as a strong piece of media. The style used in “Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur” incorporates a charming comic book aesthetic. The animation caters to those origins with plenty of “tweening” used to make the show more dynamic, especially with the use of speech bubbles during moments of high intensity. Not only is it comical (pun fully intended), but it’s genius and entertaining to the viewer with its bright graphic style and neon color scheme. The musical numbers at the end of episodes teleport the viewer to a whole new headspace, and the adorable character designs are enough to melt anyone’s heart. The production team did an incredible job of making everything about this show lovable, even if it didn’t necessarily stick to the source material.

“Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur” discusses not only the problems that marginalized communities face but how to find hope in things that otherwise seem hopeless. This message is prominent enough in the show to encourage the audience to take action, without taking away from the fun aspects of the series as a whole. Episodes that include Lunella realizing that she has to depend on others to save her community (“Moon Girl Landing”) or learning to care for her Black hair (“Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow”) don’t just provide inclusivity and diverse stories, but a distinct hope and joy that is hard to find outside of a marginalized community. “Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur” is as adorable as it is insightful and as action-packed as it is important for viewers of young generations learning to take action.

Daily Arts Contributor Avery Adaeze Uzoije can be reached at auzoije@umich.edu.

The post Over the moon — ‘Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur’ and Black joy in media appeared first on The Michigan Daily.

In 1619, 20 Black slaves arrived in the British North American colonies. They would be subject to the first of several generations of injustice and suffering toward Black people. These foundations of Black slavery would then build a country from the ground up, in which Black folk were used and abused to further the development of democracy, medical science and the United States economy. 

Nikole Hannah-Jones is an avid reporter on racial injustice and an advocate of Black voices in the United States, uplifting them whenever she has the opportunity to do so. Knowing how much Black voices tend to be suppressed in the United States, she put together several essays of her own, along with those from her colleagues, to relay information we’ve known for decades regarding how much Black people have contributed to making the United States of America what it is today. That essay collection is “The 1619 Project.”

Now that a few years have passed since its release, Hannah-Jones partnered with Hulu to make a documentary series by the same name about the essay topics covered in the novel, such as democracy, capitalism, fear and justice. Regarding the intent of the documentary to put a spotlight on slavery’s impact on individual aspects integral to the United States, it was incredibly successful in doing so. The docuseries “The 1619 Project” is an absolute necessity for Americans to watch and understand so as to not forget why Black people in the United States continue to fight for voting rights, equal representation and the diminishment of racism.

The documentary covers several important issues involving Black citizens by interviewing members of key political movements and modern groups working to promote democracy in the U.S. The most integral information presented was shown in the pilot episode “Democracy,” as Hannah-Jones not only explains her personal experiences recording Black people’s fight for civil justice, but also the stories of others fighting for the same thing (and it will be the focus of this contribution).

One of the most striking sections involves an interview with former member of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee MacArthur Cotton, who commented on the intentions of the government to prevent Black people in Mississippi from voting. Cotton, a man nearing his 80s at the time of the interview, spoke about how he was jailed and tortured by the Mississippi forces when he was a teenager, putting the timeline of American history in a far more bleak perspective. Another key interview covered the recent work of the Georgia Youth Coalition to help elderly citizens vote in the Georgia elections. Knowing this is such a recent and active organization only emphasizes the degree to which citizens must be involved in political pursuits. Finally, the documentary offers a reminder that many marginalized communities in the United States have Black Americans in the 1800s to thank for pushing for equal voting rights and citizenship for all America-born citizens, no matter how systemically they may be discriminated against. 

“The 1619 Project” is especially powerful not only due to the subject matter but because of the historical context and interviews with real people who experienced everything Hannah-Jones touches on. She does her best to make everything she discusses feel real and reminds her viewers that everything she talks about is happening right now. It adds a sense of urgency to the topic at hand, something that is necessary and admirable considering how often one may find themself detached from politics and racial injustice of the past no matter how connected they may be to it today.

Whether one is aware of it or not, injustice is constantly threatening every marginalized community. It is integral to remember that despite the bubbled communities with which one can surround themself, consistent reminders of the dire situation many Americans find themselves in push the public to fight for better voting conditions, make more informed votes and learn to care more about their local governments. “The 1619 Project” is nothing if not a call to action, a siren telling all those fortunate enough to be able to watch it just how much more work the United States has left to do to make things right and equal for one another.

Daily Arts Contributor Adaeze Uzoije can be reached at auzoije@umich.edu.

The post ‘The 1619 Project’: a call to action appeared first on The Michigan Daily.