One of the big stories we covered in yesterday’s Inside Daily Brief was about Marvel introducing a huge twist in a new Captain America comic, revealing that Steve Rogers has always been an agent of Hydra, working behind the scenes to bring down S.H.I.E.L.D., the West and the American way of life.
It’s a HUGE change for Captain America, of course, to align with a group of former Nazi collaborators. (He was, after all, depicted punching Hitler in his very first comics appearance.) So shock and discomfort were surely anticipated by Marvel’s writers and editors.
But the vehemence and the anger of the internet’s reaction may have surprised the suits, and definitely disappointed me. All day, upset fansposted screeds about how this “retcon” (comic fan terminology for a new story change that re-interprets prior storylines) ruins the character and craps on Rogers’ legacy in the Marvel Universe.
And it’s not that I particularly LOVE the notion of Steve Rogers being a turncoat. “The hero is secretly a villain!” is an old trope that doesn’t make me, personally, very excited to read some new Cap comics. But it’s disturbing that we — and by “we,” I mean the online pop culture/fan/”geek” community — don’t have a bit more patience and tolerance for how storytelling actually works. Mainly, how storytelling requires waiting around to actually hear the story before deciding you hate it and it’s the worst thing ever and it has destroyed your precious childhood.
There’s a tendency in 2016 to reach snap judgments, for “conventional wisdom” to set in, sometimes before a comic book even hits shelves, or a movie opens.
I’m even starting to see this among professional critics. Check out Geoff Berkshire’s review of “Warcraft” from the other day, which opens by explaining that there was no way any movie based on the Warcraft universe could possibly prove itself worthy. This is from the first paragraph:
“The true conflict comes from filmmakers trying to tell a story with soul and struggling against the inherent ridiculousness of the commodity they’re working with. It shouldn’t take a mage to foresee that this pricey and preposterous adaptation of an online gaming phenomenon was preordained for artistic mediocrity.”
If you already believe that movies based on video games lack merit, and fantasy stories about mages are “preordained for artistic mediocrity,” then you’re forcing the “Warcraft” movie to change your mind, rather than just taking it in on its own terms. You’re staking out a position, making you emotionally invested in being CORRECT. If “Warcraft” turns out to be an above-average movie, YOU WERE WRONG, and no one wants to be wrong. Often, reactions to pop culture are a self-fulfilling prophecy. When you go in looking for stuff to hate, you’re bound to find them.
But this isn’t just an issue with comic books trying to lure in new readers by upending the universe, or critics making up their minds about what will flop before sitting down in a theater, both of which have happened since time immemorial. Something deeper is going on, as well, I fear.
Consider the controversy swirling around “Ghostbusters” two months before it comes out. It’s the most hated film on social media, in comment threads and on YouTube, all based on casting and 1 minute of footage. (More than once, the top-voted comment on a “Ghostbusters” trailer has been something along the lines of “Let the downvoting commence!” Feeling negatively about the movie has become a community-building activity, a shared connection that makes people feel closer together, which is pretty scary if you love movies or want to make them.)
Consider how every new episode of “Game of Thrones” brings with it a torrential downpour of blog posts and commentaries about how these three storylines were BAD and if more BAD THINGS we DON’T LIKE happen, we’ll stop watching right away! Like some kind of fandom blackmail scheme. And all before the season-long arcs even wrap up and viewers have a chance to see how the narrative pieces all fit together.
This really brings me to the crux of what I fear is happening. Blogs constantly covering every aspect of the filmmaking process, studio execs watching social media for inspiration, more and more avenues for fans to give feedback and “sound off” and communicate — all of these trends have started to pervert our understanding of how storytelling works. Fans don’t want to just be fans, but co-creators, and this feeling of ownership over the fictional worlds they enjoy will necessarily lead to disappointment.
Relaying a narrative isn’t really a two-way street, as much as many creators enjoy interaction with readers or viewers. “Choose Your Own Adventure” books were kind of nifty, but at core, the act of hearing or watching a story unfold is about the pleasure of turning your imagination over to another person (or group of people.) Trying to anticipate, second-guess and outwit every move that other person makes robs you of that pleasure, and forming your opinions based on a trailer or a teaser or a sneak preview or an internet thread before you even engage with the work itself near-guarantees you’ll only notice its flaws. Collaborators engage with a work while it’s being produced; fans have to wait until it’s done. That’s just part of the deal.
But the social web runs on opinions, so we’re now constantly being goosed to relate what we think about, in some cases, teasers for trailers for movies that won’t be out until months. Bloggers and YouTubers spend months scrutinizing, dissecting, unpacking and line-item vetoing every aspect of a story before you’ve had a chance to even hear that story, related the way it was meant to be related. That doesn’t serve the story, the author or you, the person trying to have a genuine experience.
NOTE: After writing this, I found an AV Club editorial about the “entitlement” of fandom that covers some of the same ground. I largely agree with their perspective. But we want to know what you all think! Reply below:
