[SPOILERS for Age of Ultron and Mad Max: Fury Road] You Belong Here, Too

YEAH, YOU DID THIS 
AS A KID, TOO.

One of the first TV watching experiences I can remember is the art deco city against the blood red sky of Batman: The Animated Series (1992). A gift to my preschool boyfriend (he was my boyfriend by my decision, I remember, and probably not his) was a chewed Blowpop stick with the wrapper tied around the top like a cape. I claimed it was Batman. My mom opted to intervene regarding my homemade action figure.

My favorite characters in the show, however, included Catwoman, true to her morals (ie, protect cats, because cats were and are the best). I also knew she was tied to Batman in a complex almost-romance. It took a while for me to understand she was a villain. I remember a very passionate argument about it on the school bus when I was in kindergarten, later realizing my friend at the time only knew of Tim Burton's inferior (I felt) take on Selina Kyle.

I loved Joker's girlfriend and henchwoman, Harley Quinn (whose earnestness and accident-prone nature endeared herself to me), Poison Ivy (who was extremist, classy, and sexy without, apparently, being interested in men), and Detective Renee Montoya (who took no shit from anyone else on Gotham's corrupt police force and, I learned years later, went on to become The Question in the comics). I was a lot less interested in Barbara Gordon as Batgirl, who seemed bland and lacking in complexity.

Promo Image for Catwoman in

Batman: The Animated Series (1992-1995)

So it was a while before I realized superhero fiction was, by and large, marketed for boys. Due to Bruce Timm's sleek and PG-rated if same-ish designs of female characters for his Batman, it was longer before I realized most of the outfits of women were marketed for the gaze of heterosexual men.

Less vivid than the memory of trying to give trash to my preschool sweetheart or seeing the credits of Batman appear on-screen is my recollection of going into a comic book shop for the first time. I was with my Mom, I think, and I was met face to face with a collection of scantily clad posters complete with disproportionately large cleavage.

No one told me to leave the comic book shop. Of course not. I left anyway, though. I was a shy kid. There was a sense that this wasn't for me.

The Problem of Owen

I am in a Conundrum.

I've finally gotten around to Doctor Who, an excellent British TV show that's been on (and off) air since the early 1960's. It's fun and beautifully written and I am having a great time watching it. It's science fantasy at its best, with a magic man, his blue police box, and all of space and time as his playground.

So, while combing through the 2005 reboot of Who, I decided to revisit its spin-off, Torchwood. I was first exposed to the series less than a year ago and couldn't remember why I had put off seeing more of it.

Then I did.

Owen.

Owen Harper.

(Italics = said through grit teeth.)

All right, the premise of Torchwood is solid, with a cast of folks dealing with aliens and other monstrosities in Cardiff, Wales. The tension is fantastic, the effects are neat, and the main character, Captain Jack Harkness (John Barrowman), is dashing as hell.



Also, because it's made for slightly more adult audiences than Doctor Who, there's some wonderful implications of bed hopping.

So it looks and feels like a series worth watching, following, and obsessing over into the wee hours of the morning.

Then there's Owen Harper (Burn Gorman), one of the most unbearable characters I've ever seen on screen. He's the doctor of the group and is meant to be somewhat obnoxious. Unfortunately, he's not the sort of obnoxious doctor that's fun to watch. In his first appearance, he uses alien technology to make a girl (and her boyfriend) become so attracted to him, they sleep with him.

It's creepy, rape-y (or, okay, just plain rape), and, worst of all in the land of fiction, can't be dismissed with charm. Owen doesn't have any. He badgers, whines, and hasn't done anything remotely useful beyond being in the right place at the right time.

I don't demand characters who are paragons of virtue, but Owen makes otherwise fun scenes nail-bitingly difficult to watch.

Compared to Doctor Who, Torchwood has comparatively few episodes and could probably be polished off in a matter of weekends.

But--

Owen. Owen.

Until I find an answer to my problem, beyond putting my fingers in my ears and humming loudly every time the character is on screen, I'll either have to stick to Doctor Who or learn to love hating a really hate-able character.

I am Baby Cakes, You are Baby Cakes, We Are the World (NSFW awkward humor)

When artist Brad Neely's short, strange still animations started to appear on Adult Swim, I initially dismissed them as more of the awkward Tim and Eric humor Cartoon Network became so gung-ho about in its "do-we-really-have-to-show-cartoons?" age of weirdness. Tim and Eric has its spastic, approving audience, but I'm not it; Brad Neely, on the other hand, has reeled me in completely.

His humor's awkward, too, of course, and often scatological and (for some reason) Harry Potter and wizard obsessed, but his quirky style and keen observations separate him from the usual "lol!random" Internet 'toons. He's still part of their number, but he defines the form rather than succumbing to its video game and meme simplicities.

Neely's most endearing character is Baby Cakes, a 30+ man-child and struggling musician living with his father. Though the audience is at first meant to laugh at the character's love for alcohol and D&D, his absolute sureness in magic, music, and wizards allows plenty of room for appreciation and love:



It's strange how Baby Cakes is both awkwardly hilarious and able to achieve a point of view of such grace. His philosophy is paradoxically enlightened and blunted by stupidity, fantastically skewed and privately meaningful.

I didn't catch the short lived Super Deluxe while it was airing on television, but caught up online with the adventures of the misguided crew of the fictional China, Illinois. Brad Neely doesn't appear to be producing much in the way of independent animation lately, but if and when he does, I hope he returns to his beloved, child man hero.

Holmes and Watson's Excellent Adventure(s)

Sherlock “A Study in Pink” (2010)

Television; approx. 90 minutes

Hartswood Films; BBC Wales; WGBH

Starring: Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman

On Sunday, October 24th, I caught PBS's U.S. premiere of Sherlock.

The BBC import is a 21st century update of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's detective that has an unfortunately brief first season of the three episodes. Luckily, it looks like they're also ninety minutes long.

Masterpiece Mystery Theater kicked off the series stateside by airing "A Study in Pink.” Over the pond, it's already out on DVD, and probably the Internet.

The character of Sherlock Holmes pervades pop culture to a frightening extent. He has been reinvented, reused, and confused for a real person. Only last year, Guy Ritchie produced Sherlock Holmes (2009) with a titular character played by Robert Downey, Jr. and a new take on his persona.

Now, is the show’s version of Holmes original? No, but he’s recognizable and fun.

Sherlock's title character is portrayed by actor Benedict Cumberbatch, a man with lips that belong to the statue of a Greek god. No, really, they were a major distraction. Every review I've read online talks about how hilarious Cumberbatch's name is which seems sort of moot when his acting is so convincing and his face is handsomely alien. I suspect he's an extraterrestrial from a gorgeous if strangely proportioned species from another world--a better coiffed world--but that is neither here nor there.

Cumberbatch was in the historical film Amazing Grace (2005) as William Pitt, which is no shock with a face that just doesn't seem to belong to this generation.

His sidekick, Afghanistan veteran Dr. John Watson, is played by Martin Freeman, who was the perfect Arthur Dent for The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005). His performance as an average man innocently caught in a chaotic, would-be sci-fi epic was a joy to watch. Now he’s a slightly more-than-average man caught in the world of a super genius.

Freeman’s timing and heart-felt seriousness are all part of the comedy lurking beneath the surface of even the most dramatic moments in Sherlock. Freeman effortlessly plays John Watson as a pleasant everyman with a private taste for daring-do. He's as relatable as Sherlock isn't, the perfect entry character into the world of the show.

Freeman and Cumberbatch's chemistry is excellent, maybe even perfect. Their dynamic is far from sexual or romantic, but they fit together easily. "A Study in Pink" is also a loose re-telling of their first meeting much like "A Study in Scarlet," from Sherlock diagnosing Watson's veteran status from a glance to Watson offering Sherlock an audience the character doesn't know he wanted.

In a memorable scene in the back of a cab, as they pass urban London stores with wasp-wasted mannequins in the windows, Cumberbatch's Holmes describes step-by-step just how he deduced that Watson has recently returned from abroad, is seeing a psychiatrist, and has inherited a phone from an estranged sibling.

Freeman's Watson shares the audience's enjoyment in seeing the method revealed and says that that’s “amazing.” Holmes replies, in a line both hilarious and very sad, that most people just tell him to "piss-off." Their kinship is immediate and believable, the crown jewel of the hour and a half long episode.

This Holmes and Watson are outsiders in the modern world. Their bond is fresh and human. The wonderful connection between the actors, unfortunately, dwarfs the plot of the first episode and many other aspects of the story.

"A Study in Pink" is definitely suspenseful, with a number of supposed suicides around town believed to be the work of a serial killer. The only thing that links them is that they all took the same poison. The explanation behind it all is fun and isn't immediately obvious, but once it reaches its climax (which feels very close to a certain inconceivable scene in The Princess Bride [1987]), the mystery deflates.

Part of the problem is that Cumberbatch's character, during the final third of the premier, momentarily stops being a character and starts being a Crime Solving Machine (TM).

In the recent tradition of quirky, damaged crime show protagonists, as seen in Bones and House, Holmes now cheerfully describes himself as a high functioning sociopath. Misanthropy and super-human intelligence is part of the character, but he's a man, not an action adventure calculator. According to a less savory theme of Sherlock, the reason he solves problems isn't out of glorious human curiosity, but because he is a mechanism more concerned with crime than the victims of it.

Some may argue there isn't much difference. I want to watch a character with a soul, though, not a function. I like cool heroes, too; Robert Downey, Jr.'s take on Holmes was more of a mainstream action man, which is probably why he rubbed some Sherlock purists the wrong way, but unlike Cumberbatch, Downey's character is endearingly friendly and warm. Cumberbatch's character is cold and only relatable when he's playing off Watson.

Considering that this is the first episode, however, it might just be an exaggeration rather than a permanent caricature. The 21st century, for example, certainly has smart phones, texting, and computers that do really cool things, but they are displayed in excess in "A Study in Pink."

I guess the story wants us to know it's conscious of how its source material has been transplanted.

Some nods are made to the devoted Holmes fan base, alive for over a century at this point. I suspect Dr. Watson's frequent pauses as he passes women are almost certainly due to humorous fan speculation that, while far from stated in the text, the character was a womanizer. Perhaps this attention to the fans is why the innuendo of two men living together is discussed so openly.

The producers seem to be in conversation with their audience, not just pandering to them with action adventure tropes. It's one of the saving graces of the show.

The next Sherlock episode, "The Blind Banker," premiers stateside Oct. 31st. Rest assured, I'll be watching eagerly.