Author: Josh

  • Unvincible (#4)

    This is the fifth in a series of episode reviews for the animated TV show Invincible, starting from the end and working backwards. See the overview here.

    Last time it was fathers, fathers, fathers in my favourite episode so far.

    We have a Rorschach!

    I was almost worried that after all my initial bluster about Watchman being the totemic work for this kind of project, that all we’d get is the vague allusions with Cecil observing Omni-man from his room full of monitors — the smartest man on the cinder-in-waiting. Now thankfully we can add to them the Demon, who I think I caught a glimpse of in the “previously on” in episode 5 — he’s Rorschach by way of Hellboy in design, and his character is somewhere triangulated between Rorschach, the Rorschach-inspired Question from Justice League Unlimited, and DC’s Etrogan the Demon. In terms of how he fits into the structure though, he’s pure Rorschach —tenaciously following the breadcrumbs on the unsolved murder of superheroes sponsored by the state.

    And what’s fascinating is that both in this story and for this story, Rorschach must be exorcised — there is simply no room for libertarian heroics here. There is the liberal technocratic state, and there’s authoritarian fascism, and even when they’re at war they’ll happily team up and dispatch you to an unimaginable hell just to have you out of their hair. Rorschach had to pursue the Comedian’s killer because no-one else cared about the death of a washed-up old solider; the Guardians of the Globe however are actively managed assets, much like Omni-man himself. Cecil and his organisation will get to the bottom of who killed them simply as a matter of bureaucratic good practise and because everything that happens with the super-humans is managed by his team. Rorschach is superfluous and worse still, won’t play the game. So Cecil very efficient murders him.

    Curiously, the brutal execution of the Demon is one of the only sequences of violence in the cartoon that doesn’t indulge in superlative gore.

    Like Rorschach, the Demon leaves a journal behind for someone to continue his work — but when it gets opened in the next episode there’s very little actual insight contained within. At the end of Watchmen Rorschach’s testimony is capable of tearing down one man’s great lie. There’s no scope for the Demon to reveal Omni-man’s role in the killings to “the public” because there’s no reason for the public to care outside of the gossipy blogs we see Debbie skimming. There’s no trick being played on the people, just an internal struggle between two factions of state power — albeit one faction is concentrated in a single man. There’s no need to fool the entire system because the entire system is complicit.

    Which brings me to my headline for this episode: the most outdated character in Watchmen in a post-Cold War world is the Comedian, because we now live in a world where it’s impossible to imagine that any super-powered being would be able to avoid becoming an agent of state violence. Many of our most popular fictional heroes volunteer — “we’d like to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative”. The heroes of Watchmen, flawed though they were, met up in a run-down apartment room to discuss teaming up over a pinboard. In Invincible they attend a clean, modern facility with a purpose-built combat chamber, at the leisure of a shadowy government alphabet agency. The Comedian was unique among the Watchmen in that he was the only hero — presented with the reality of what they were doing, policing rioters with violent force — who didn’t care that he was merely an arm of state violence. This was also Frank Millar’s brutal sketch of a Reagan-appeasing Superman in The Dark Knight Returns. Rorschach was a violent fascist but he was under no illusions as to the contempt he was held in by the police. Nite Owl may have been a cowardly fantasist who let his best friend get murdered by a God, but at least he was doing it all under his own power, with the state held at arm’s length. The Guardians of the Globe may as well have been a whole team of Comedians.


    Beyond that, there’s the start of Mark’s relationship with Amber. I’d assumed their relationship would predate the start of the series, but no, it’s here — and in its inception he’s making all the same mistakes, fundamentally not treating Amber like another person but as a series of boxes to tick in any way necessary. Looks like this one was doomed from the off!

    Elsewhere in teen relationships, I had somehow missed until now that “Rex”, Eve’s dickhead ex who her father was so enamoured with, is the man with the high red collar and indistinct powers on the Justice League satellite. I almost wish they were separate people, to give more of an openness to this “superhero community” they namedrop in the episode. He could fill in the stereotype of the kind of hero her father would approve of just by existing.

    Olga, who we meet here for the first time, has an abominable Russian accent.

    Just appalling.

    I’m in two minds about what the date sequence with Omni-man and Debbie is meant to portray. Is it meant to show us the true root of their relationship, that she taught him what it means to be a hero and he integrated it into his fascism? Or is he like Mark, fundamentally misunderstanding the point of the relationship, especially given his warped perspective of how long and intense it is?

    The Mars sequence which dominates the main chunk of the episode is both yet more Dragonball indulgence, meeting the dusty Grand Guru of the Martians, and also another explicit reference to Justice League and DC generally, with the shapeshifting Martian race who just want to be left alone.

    The notion of an unstoppable space empire, whose soldiers are so violent and destructive that tolerating a single one to remain on your planet spells global destruction, is some slightly wonky foreshadowing for where the next four episodes are going to go back on Earth — although Omni-man is slightly more well-dressed than the brain monsters. The whole thing resting on the Martian King not talking to Mark for more than five minutes about what exactly he knows about Mark’s race is a little contrived, however.

    Robot status: more sinister, more creepy, we got the sneak peak of his true form that’s apparently hiding out in the back of a garbage truck. It’s a little unclear to me whether the subsequent events of the show with regards to Robot are meant to reveal that he had a weird-but-understandable motivation for all this creepy nonsense, or if it’s meant to be new levels of overall creepiness. I’m enjoying the show’s naked love of the big burly cloner guys though. Amoral pseudo-arms trader scientist strongman is an excellent combo, and from the way they’ve appeared so far even in episodes that don’t strictly concern them, I’m assuming they have a big role to play. “Cecil’s an idiot” is one of my favourite lines.


    Next time: we spin the wheels a little bit in episode #3.

    Ranking, best to worst:

    1. #5
    2. #8
    3. #4
    4. #7
    5. #6
  • Unvincible (#5)

    This is the fourth in a series of episode reviews for the animated TV show Invincible, starting from the end and working backwards. See the overview here.

    Last time our cup runneth over with criticisms.

    Now this was a very fine episode indeed — I probably enjoyed this episode most out of everything so far. As a monster-of-the-week outing it outstripped sewer-Frankenstein by some considerable distance, with a cast of engaging, complex characters each with their own relevant motivations and morality.

    Mark really is a shit to Amber, who with the benefit of foresight we know is bracing in every conversation for the one thing she wants to hear (“I was busy doing superhero shit that I am going to cease lying to you about”) and all his affected romantic gestures, effortful though they are, do not do her this basic decency — and he is assuming that she’s not smart enough to notice.

    Eve’s family drama also reaches a high point here, with the parts I’ve already seen turning out to be a coda to events this episode. Like Mark, she has a fascist for a father — a petty, vindictive, sexist psychopath who does nothing but belittle her in the guise of fatherly advice. The other piece of the puzzle for her is helping out at Amber’s soup kitchen job, which gives her some welcome (albeit as we’ll see, slightly unclear) perspective on what it means to help people.

    Debbie’s continuing investigation into Omni-man proceeds apace — it’s very hard for me to see how this plot strand could possibly have been a mystery or twist. It’s effectively “My husband is materially linked to a series of murders” vs “No he isn’t”. The mystery is his motivation, which has a delightful clarity here by way of context: the charming Tiger-man hired by the mob boss stands in as a direct proxy for Omni-man’s beliefs in the climactic fight, hammering all of Earth’s mightiest heroes to and fro and voicing his disdain for their efforts to stop him.

    Omni-man loves his son, for whatever that is worth, but he wants his belief in the primacy of force to come before everything. Omni-man watches stoically as the hilarious cast of minor villains led by Tiger, the only actually effective combatant, beat his son to a pulp. It’s a pitch-perfect spoof of late-show Justice League Unlimited. Are we to assume the “anonymous call to Cecil” was the man himself, quietly betraying his ethics?

    And to round out the episode’s cast of dubious father figures, we are introduced to Titan, a high-level mob enforcer with a heart of gold who can coat his skin in stone (although several times in the episode the skin under the stone also appears to deflect bullets). In an incredibly audacious move, he scams Mark into helping him make a play against his boss, a man named “Machine head” who eats computer chips to get off. The transition from Titan requesting Mark’s help on the roof of a city apartment block to Mark mulling over his request while spooning out mashed potato from his detached suburban home is as good as the show gets. And if in the end Titan wants to use the ring of power rather than cast it into the fires of Mount Doom? Frankly, that’s his choice to make.

    Mark’s whole challenge in this episode, from the perspective of people with common decency, is to see that there are complex situations which cannot be simply punched into submission no matter how unpleasant they are. His desire — borne of his father’s direct instruction, to be fair to him — to seek out problems that are sufficiently grand to require his intervention means that even an issue that seems to him to be small and personal, Titan’s request to help him “get out” of the mob business, causes the near-death of several people. Ensuring that people are fed, while it may not be as dramatic, is a certain way to help. Mark is wrong to postpone it based on the assumed priority of “saving the world”, and he’s rightly going to get dumped for it.

    I feel like there are hard limits on the possibility of being a superhero through individual acts of kindness, which is what Eve is quietly building towards in this episode and the next. There are big problems which cannot be solved with simple solutions, but that doesn’t mean we can ignore them — and if you take on personal intervention to solve all the world’s problems, when does that obligation end? The first act of Man of Steel is very relevant here.

    The Justice League have their own segment with their own father figure who is unwisely attempting to discipline them when they’d be better off becoming comfortable in their own company, but it’s extremely boring and thankfully short. We also see the cloner twins in the act of cloning themselves, which is pleasant but all-too-brief.

    I will say that between fickle, be-mullet-ed right-hand man Izotope this episode and the lank-haired evil scientist from #6, men with long hair are getting really short shrift in this series. And let the foreshadowing alarm ring with the way Saiyan-furious Mark rips the ineffectual villain made of magma in two — that’s the kind of violence you can only get away with on non-human characters, right… right?

    Oh, and Robot is super, super creepy this episode. Cumulatively, that robot needs to step off. It’s difficult to determine, between Machine Head and Robot, which “artificial lifeform” is more distasteful here.

    In total though, a barnstorming demonstration of what the show can do with the setting and characters that’s neither “replay Watchmen” nor “hang off the one big turn that’s coming”. It’s a leap into the very best kind of semi-serialised genre TV and past this point I am genuinely excited for more.


    Next time: We meet an exciting new character in episode #4.

    Ranking, best to worst:

    1. #5
    2. #8
    3. #7
    4. #6
  • Unvincible (#6)

    This is the third in a series of episode reviews for the animated TV show Invincible, starting from the end and working backwards. See the overview here.

    Last time we met a very special boy robot.

    Invincible #6, with special guest star: Marge Simpson’s wine glass.

    After all that exciting climactic nonsense in the first two episode I watched, this episode slams us straight back down to cold, hard earth. Standard TV tropes rule the day here, with a Buffy-aping cold open showing us that there’s a monster on campus. The monster — and the evil scientist’s plot it is borne of — is all a bit naff, with more than a little air of having been conceived entirely to fuel the villain’s appearance in the eighth episode. Which was itself a somewhat unnecessary reiteration of how far the a shadowy arm of the US government was willing to go, given the history of shadowy arms of the US government.

    I’m enjoying in retrospect how performative Cecil’s distaste for enlisting this guy is. He was probably already in the graduate program. But no matter how implausible a genius the lank-haired scientist is, it strains credulity to believe he can turn around a monster man in the handful of hours the plot requires him to do it in, even if only in terms of wear on that circular saw of his.

    The Evangelion-aping monstrosities from the next episode here take centre stage in, of all things, an homage to Buffy’s contentious fourth season.

    Dorohedoro did the sewer-dwelling genetic scientist with considerably more aplomb. There, the notion of an underground experimentation lair was backed up by the generally fantastical setting; why was the idiot in this episode working in a sewer? In the twelve or so hours following it happening, why did no-one investigate where the self-destructive pain cyborg earlier in the episode had come from? There’s a touch of Spiderman: Far From Home to it, that all these other heroes we are being told populate this world aren’t available to show up.

    The script wants us to accept everything hanging very loosely in relation to itself, but at the same time for the climax to be a nail-biting race against time, with Mark having spent time on his own romantic dealings in a way that wastes critical minutes. But we have no reason to thing the villain could work so fast; at the start of the episode it’s evident that the guy who gets ambushed in the cold open spends more time than we see here just waking up again.

    It’s an impossibly cruel end for a pleasant side-character too, one that would sit a lot better transplanted to the orgy of destruction in the subsequent two episodes. Sat where it is, it fits uncomfortably well into a trend of disposable gay characters and for what? In plot terms all it does is provide a distraction for the protagonist for all of an evening.

    Wow, the guy from Dorohedoro even looks kinda similar. Where’s my second season of Dorohedoro, Netflix?

    Everything else is still of high standard, even if several plots are just characters dropping breadcrumbs all episode long — Omni-man’s costume being pored over for telltale blood, the clone twins work to contract and rob a grave, the Justice League. A lot of time is given over to Robot’s medicinal dedications of love, but in material terms very little happens. He’s alternately creepily fixated or adorably devoted, I get it. There’s a pleasing cynicism to how Eve, accosted by her belligerent father that she daren’t go live out some hippie dream, heads into the forest and immediately creating a living treehouse. Eve wants to be a 60’s throwback and she’s not afraid to be say it loud and proud.

    The interactions between Omni-man and his family, as well as between Omni-man and Cecil (the worm), are again the high point of the episode. With the benefit of foresight, his declaration that on his home planet of Vegeta teens do not act out splits the difference smartly between “alien father doesn’t understand teenagers” and “authoritarian father actively refuses to understand teenagers”. The truth, as we’re shortly to discover, is both. And in an otherwise perfunctory confrontation with his wife at the tail end of the episode, the moment where he reflexively catches the wine bottle is the perfect uncanny note, briefly looking like an apologising partner bearing a gift, tying his impassive rage back to Mark’s failing attempts to repair his relationship with Amber.

    In watching backwards, I’m somehow presented here with a straight-up cliffhanger — the start of this episode featured a host of recognisable characters being hauled into urgent medical care following a fight in the penthouse of a large build. Consider me on the edge of my seat for the next episode.


    Next time: Everyone gets beaten to a pulp in Episode #5.

    Ranking, best to worst:

    1. #8
    2. #7
    3. #6
  • Unvincible (#7)

    This is the second in a series of episode reviews for the animated TV show Invincible, starting from the end and working backwards. See the overview here.

    Last time we found out all about the noble Saiyan race.

    Finally revealed! The secret origin of Omni-man’s crazy eyes.

    I was delighted in the first part of this episode to find the Dragonball comparison given yet further weight by the addition of androids to the mix. This was most pleasing, as diversionary as it felt — viewing with full knowledge of the tiny robot child’s contribution to the climactic events next episode (none).

    The conclusion I’m erring towards is that there’s very little deconstruction of the superhero taking place here: there’s a fairly basic superhero teen narrative that seems awfully close to something you might have seen on Justice League or Teen Titans, and then there’s a second story that’s somewhere between John Wick and Jason Bourne about an unstoppable murderous tool of the state being controlled and managed. Perpetual CIA sad-sack Cecil comments at one point that an ineffectual orbital cannon cost several billion dollars; you’ve got to wonder how much was correspondingly spent on the Omni-man project.

    The clean modern design of the Omni-mansion brings to mind John Wick.

    The fighting in the episode, was merrily animated. I did appreciate Robocop-by-way-of-Evangelion’s-seagulls — and of course the mass-production Evangelions were also the secret product of a shadowy governmental clique holding them in reserve as a trump card. I was somewhat disappointed in how Omni-man was not the devastating force of nature he was made out to be in my first episode. His failure to kill Cecil, a frail man armed only with a teleporter whose previous advantage was remaining strictly remote, was particularly unimpressive. Come on! The man is untethered from all morality and has the physical strength to tear the Immortal in two, don’t have him take hits for a few minutes first.

    The part-Robocop dog men were an interesting addition, especially given how closely they hew to Omni-man’s episode 8 description of how he sees humanity.

    The teen drama is slightly more charming here than it was in the finale, and the sequence describing Eve’s morning routine looks delightful. I’m still not sure what to make of her statement “Looks like I’m helping you today”, which was so weighty that it featured in the “last time” sequence in the previous episode I watched.

    The bulk of the episode is taken up with the alternately charming and irritating story of the boy android who did very little in episode 8. It’s a little contrived, but I think I can disentangle it: the episode begins with the (re?)introduction of a disfigured man in a life support tank, who tasks two burly clone-men with installing him in a new body they have grown for him. After some grousing they do this, at which point he immediately betrays them and attempts to imprison and/or murder them. Simultaneously, the disfigured man has been masquerading as a malfunctioning robot in the Justice League watchtower subplot, where he has formed a pseudo-romantic relationship with a woman who ages backwards. Their only reprieve is when he’s ordered by CIA Cecil to return to the base, an order which he obeys immediately. All very puzzling, and only reaffirming the space base as the locus of nauseating teen drama.

    The best sequences in the episode take place in the family home and locale, a palpable sense of desperation as Omni-man shreds his connection to humanity piece by piece. The only moment missed is a reflection on his inhumanity in the flames of the exploded surveillance-house across the road — both Batman v Superman and Russell T. Davies’ The Second Coming do this scene with more gravitas.

    A rare miss in the iconography for the extremely shallow, flame free crater.

    This is the episode it had to be for the subsequent episode to be impactful; a measure of the existing state of affairs breaking apart piece by piece. It’s not as striking as the finale, but perhaps it can’t be.


    Next time: Something a little under-cooked in Episode #6.

    Ranking, best to worst:

    1. #8
    2. #7