Why I Am Looking Back
Himali Thakur, Class of 2019
A couple of weeks ago, amidst a sea of coursework, I found myself procrastinating. I was mindlessly surfing Netflix, trying to catch a movie or show that I could watch with my brain switched off. Even though I had a long list of to–watch movies, I was too exhausted to watch anything as intense as The Bridge of Spies or The Boy in Striped Pyjamas.
It wasn’t too long before I stumbled across Kung Fu Panda. A nice, simple, children’s movie — it was just what I needed.
A few minutes into the movie, I realised that I was quite wrong.
Kung Fu Panda tells the story of a young panda, Po, who is accidentally chosen as the Dragon Warrior of kung fu over five other candidates who had been training for this honour their entire lives. Po is repeatedly told that he cannot be the Dragon Warrior because he is the son of a noodle shop owner with no background in kung fu. In the end, Po proves that he is more than just a “fat panda” and comes to the rescue of his village in the time of need. It’s a typical underdog story, except it deals sensitively with a host of issues like adoption, bullying, fat-shaming, and self-doubt — the issues that an average person is likely to face in life.
Above all, it deals with these ideas light-heartedly, with humour, but it does not take them lightly. For instance, Po does not magically transform into a panda with beastly muscles once he starts practising kung fu; the movie doesn’t tell children, especially those who may be dealing with body image issues, that a few days at the gym will make you look great and allow you to regain your confidence. Instead of teaching children to look outside for satisfaction and motivation, Kung Fu Panda asks them to look inside; “The secret ingredient is nothing!” exclaims Po’s father, towards the end of the film. “To make something special, you just have to believe it is special.” And for a child who may feel excluded, this could make a world of difference. To be honest, it does not make a difference to only a child. It may sound like poo-pah to some (or, maybe, many) readers, but there are days when I need that kind of positivity. Being reminded that I am not a complete failure and that the world will not end just because things did not turn out the way I expected helps me get through tough days.
Revisiting Kung Fu Panda made me want to go back to books, movies, and TV shows that I read and watched as a child. That was how I found myself re-watching Card Captor Sakura.
Often abbreviated as CCS, this anime was a part of the magical girl anime wave of the late 90s and early 2000s. The title character, Sakura, accidentally breaks the seal of the magic book of Clow Reed, releasing the Clow Cards inside this book. The quirky guardian of the book, Cerebrus (affectionately, Kero-chan), asks Sakura to retrieve and re-seal these cards, lest they wreak havoc.
Apart from its beautiful animation and fascinating story, CCS was a treat to re-watch for a number of reasons. The show sidesteps the happy nuclear family trope to gives us a real family in the Kinomotos. Later, Sakura and Syaoran’s romance is adorable. One thing that flew under the radar until recently (SPOILERS) was the fact that Touya, Sakura’s older brother, and Yukito (Touya’s best friend) are in love with each other. This is no crazy fangirl theory; Yukito tells Sakura that he “cares deeply” for Touya. In Japan, he may as well have said that he is head over heels for him. What makes this a great romantic subplot is that CCS doesn’t make a spectacle of the gay relationship. It does not collapse Yukito and Touya’s experience into the same category as so-called heterosexual desire but recognises their difference with a refreshing indifference.
There are many other shows, books, and movies that I now want to go back to: High School Musical, SWAT Cats, The Chronicles of Narnia, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Ben 10… the list goes on!
You may say that I am simply cherry-picking the good aspects of Kung Fu Panda and CCS, and this is nothing but a bout of nostalgia. You would be right — to a certain extent — on both counts. These stories are not perfect and do present certain problematic viewpoints. Kung Fu Panda draws on the West’s age-old Oriental conflation of China with kung fu. Card Captor Sakura often falls into the trap of using the delicate female trope with their adult female characters. These shows are reflective of an underlying tone deafness of their times, but today, even media produced for children are becoming more self-aware.
I will also not deny that nostalgia plays a huge role in this. Sometimes, I go back to musicians, like Owl City, that I listened to as a twelve-year-old. These stories and songs are familiar, and there is a sense of security attached them. When I’m procrastinating, I desperately crave a sense of comfort; I feel the need to go back to carefree times where I was not constantly worried about deadlines, relationships, and personal goals. There is also the added bonus that I can now spot jokes and references that I wouldn’t have understood before, like the “adult” jokes hidden in Spongebob Squarepants.
However, I believe that this sudden desire for re-watching/re-reading these stories is not limited to mere nostalgia. As in the case of Kung Fu Panda, a lot of these stories act like pick-me-ups when I need motivation and encouragement. Re-reading something like Roald Dahl’s The Magic Finger is a great way to de-stress in an environment like our university.
More importantly, these stories allow me to encounter entertainment and intellectual content in the same place, without being too brooding or dark (I’m looking at you, Stranger Things and Thirteen Reason Why). Yes, growing up is difficult, and I don’t need Stephen King to tell me that. However, that doesn’t mean that when Charlie and the Chocolate Factory waves the Golden Ticket in front of us, it ignores the difficulties that Charlie and his family face. These TV shows also avoid hyper-sexualising the male or the female characters — Gwen from Ben 10 or Kim Possible didn’t have to be hyper-sexualised to be powerful and popular. That is something I need to see after encountering too many movies that either give us only butt- and boob-shots of the female characters (thank you, Suicide Squad and Justice League), or outright deny female desire (I love you LOTR, but Galadriel). Moana and the first two movies of Despicable Me are recent instances of what well-thought out children’s media can do.
When children’s media can give you so much to like in one place, it’s difficult to not go back to them. Here, you can close your demanding, mind-boggling course readings to sit back and enjoy works that (for once) tell you, that despite all the reasons the world is a difficult place, things may actually turn out alright.
The author is the Arts & Culture Managing Editor for the Edict.
