Tuesday, November 22, 2016

A Strange Review (C’mon, you know I had to do it)!

Dear Readers,
Sorry this review was a bit delayed… I was planning on getting it out a couple of weeks ago, but I just kept having ideas that I wanted to cover, so this review is both late and massive.  Enjoy!

Alright, I am going to be completely honest with you; I went and saw Dr. Strange 3 times opening week.  To put that in perspective, the only two movies I have wanted to see twice all year have been Captain America: Civil War, and Star Trek: Beyond.  Of those two, the only one I was able to see a second time was Star Trek.  So that gives you a bit of an idea about how much I liked this movie.  For those of you looking for a review to tell you whether or not to go see it, read on to the end of this paragraph, and then go watch it and come back later.  The movie was highly enjoyable; the characters were likable, the story (while not entirely original) had some really interesting developments, and the visuals were beyond amazing.  Every reviewer I have read or seen talking about this movie has mentioned the fantastic visual spectacle.  Normally, I am not one to be blown away by a cool looking movie (I tend to prefer films with plot and character), but in this case, I can actually say that the visuals alone make this movie worth seeing (although, as I mentioned earlier, the plot and character were very good as well).  Go see it, invite your friends, go see it again, and then come back for the rest of this analysis.

OK.  Now that we have all seen the movie, a second warning about this review.  As the title mentioned, this one is going to be a bit… well… Strange.  I have such a kaleidoscope of thoughts about this movie, and how it relates in my mind to…just about everything, that I have decided to go a bit stream on consciousness with this one.  So forgive me for the tangents, the rabbit trails, the nonsequiters, and the run on thoughts; I just can’t narrow this review down to one thing.  If that sounds like your cup of tea, then, allonsy (Hey, we are taking about magical doctors saving the world… I had to get at least one Dr. Who? reference in!).

The Thick Plottens
OK, so right off the bat, I want to address what I think is the weakest part of the film; the plot.  As I mentioned in my introduction, the plot for this movie is not exactly the most original, even in the Marvel universe.  Most people I have spoken with, watched, or read agree that the plot to this movie is basically the first Iron Man movie, but with magic.  That is a fair assessment; Dr. Stephen Strange is an arrogant, wealthy jerk, who delights in making those around him look foolish, who goes through a traumatic event that changes him from a wisecracking jerk to a hero capable of saving the world. Add to that (SPOILERS) a wise mentor figure who is brutally killed, and a supposed friend turned foe, and Dr. Strange begins to look a lot like his brilliant, arrogant, wealthy, wise-cracking, goatee sporting Marvel counterpart.  That being said, there are some critical differences that I think make this movie more than just “Iron Man Lite.”  The first is Benedict Cumberbatch.  It would be very easy for a lesser actor, given the same lines and the same script to simply come across as an Iron Man counterpart, however, Cumberbatch is able to bring to his delivery a subtlety and charm that are completely lacking in Robert Downey Jr.’s performance.  I didn’t just like him because he was clever and funny (like Iron Man), but because his struggles seemed altogether human.  There is a moment, early in the film where he blows up and says some pretty horrible things to his not-girlfriend, Christine Palmer.  In Tony Stark, this moment would serve merely to highlight his arrogance and utter lack of personal responsibility, but the sheer viciousness Cumberbatch brings in the moment makes him seem like a cornered, wounded animal, not an arrogant ass who has been knocked off his pedestal and wants it back.  Cumberbatch’s portrayal makes Strange much more human than Tony Stark,  because he is much more relatable.  Very few (I would hazard to guess none) of us has ever had the experience of being a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, or the world’s greatest neurosurgeon, and then losing it all.  But we have all known that it was like to feel useless, to want to make a difference, to be afraid of failing.  This is the subtlety that Cumberbatch brings to the role, and why (in my humble opinion), Dr. Strange, for all its apparent lack of originality, is actually the better story than Iron Man.

There is also something to be said for the way this movie ends.  In most superhero movies, the hero encounters a seemingly unbeatable foe, and one of the delights of the film is figuring out how the weaker character can best their powerful adversary.  We all feel like the underdogs in our own stories, and it is cathartic to see the little guy win.  But Dr. Strange does something a bit different.  Sure, you have a hero taking on a massively powerful opponent, and emerging on the other side victorious, despite all odds, but how that happens is one of the most interesting and compelling parts of the story.  Dr. Strange defeats his enemy, Dormammu, by LOSING! He (spoilers), traps himself in a never ending time loop with Dormammu, where he is killed over and over again by the Lord of the Dark Dimension.  In keeping his foe trapped with him in and endless battle, he also keeps him from destroying the earth.  When Dormammu states in shock “You cannot win!”  Strange replies, in perhaps the most powerful line of the movie, “No, but I can lose forever, and that makes you my prisoner.” (More on the showdown with Dormammu later).  This is a totally different approach to victory than what we have seen in past Marvel movies, and it fits perfectly with the outlook of the movie.  When Strange initially comes to the Ancient One to learn magic, she tells him he has to surrender control to gain control.  Strange shoots back, “That doesn’t make any sense,” to which she replies “Not everything has to.”  The greatest strength of the plot of this movie is the conviction with which it approaches paradox; sometimes the only way to win is to lose, sometimes the only way to control is surrender.

One last word before I move on to other aspects of the film.  As with any science fiction, fantasy, comic book, action, adventure movie, there are a number of small (or slightly larger) plot-holes that can cause a problem for the viewer.  In the case of Dr. Strange, most of these center around the total lack of security the mystical world seems to have.  Powerful spellbooks are guarded by easily removable iron chains and ONE librarian.  Powerful sanctums that protect the world from magical attack are guarded by ONE master.  The all the sorcerers with all the relics fail to stop attackers who are later thwarted by the neophyte, Strange.  It just seems like if the future of the world depends so much upon the safety of these books and sanctums, there would be a greater competence in protecting them.  But, overall, this wasn’t too big an issue, and there are some things you just let slide because… hey, it’s a superhero movie.

Character is Critical
One of the strongest elements of Dr. Strange is the relatable and likable characters.  I already mentioned Benedict Cumberbatch’s strong performance.  While there is no shortage of wise cracking, arrogant geniuses in film and television (Cumberbatch himself has played a few), it was a rare pleasure to have such a character be genuinely likable.  Such characters are often enjoyable to watch, but you wouldn’t want to hang out with them.  Dr. Stephen Strange’s arrogance hides both a great concern for other people which makes him genuinely likable, and a deep seated fear of failure which makes him compelling.  He uses humor as a shield to protect himself from the threats around him, sarcastically wounding others to prevent himself from being wounded.  There is a veracity to this character that is not often seen in superhero film; he seems like a real person, reacting to the impossible situations around him.

The biggest surprise for me character wise was Tilda Swinton’s portrayal of the Ancient One.  Having seen Swinton in a few other movies, I had no concerns about her being able to portray the wisdom mentor figure.  What I was surprised by was the levity that she mixed with gravity in her performance.  In her first encounter with Dr. Strange, the Ancient One matches him quip for quip, throwing his own sarcastic comments back at him with the full force of an ancient master.  There is a depth, and complexity to her portrayal that is often lacking in mentor figures; she is occasionally uncertain, she listens to advice from those around her, and (very rarely) she is wrong.  It was refreshing to see a mentor who struggled, who did not have all the answers, but who was still wise and powerful and integral to the story.

Also a delight was the cast of supporting characters.  Chiwetel Eiiofor was excellent as Mordo; mentor/friend turned eventual nemesis by the end of the story.  While the greater focus of the story was (obviously) on Dr. Strange, we got some interesting development of the relationship between the friends turned enemies.  Mordo is presented as a strong, steady force for natural law.  His lack of flexibility is ultimately his undoing, but it is also what makes him such a powerful force for good in the movie, allowing him to serve as a moral compass for the much more flexible Stephen Strange.  Eiiofor strikes a hard balance in portraying a character who (most of the audience knew) would turn evil, and still keeping him likable and relatable.  The dynamic between Mordo and Strange is, in some ways reminiscent of that between Captain America and Tony Stark; in a pivotal scene between the two, Strange remarks of Mordo, “You lack imagination,” to which Mordo heatedly replies, “No Stephen; you lack a spine!”  This almost directly parallels the confrontation between Stark and Cap in Avengers, “The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.” Tony Stark: “I think I would just cut the wire.” Steve Rogers: “Always a way out... You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero.”  This similarity in the dynamic between the characters will be interesting to see play out in future films, where Mordo’s strict view of right and wrong will be greatly contrasted with Strange’s willingness to experiment and play with the grey edges of morality to accomplish his goals.

While less developed, Rachel McAdams as Christine Palmer and Benedict Wong as Wong were also a joy to watch.  McAdams’ Palmer is exactly what one would expect a post Avengers doctor to be.  While Strange is entirely skeptical about the possibility of magic, Christine Palmer goes from shock to business in no time flat.  While her lack of “freaking out” seems a bit boring at first, the no nonsense approach is completely understandable in a New York Doctor who lived through the events of the first Avengers movie.  After seeing aliens coming through a portal in the sky, and a guy with a magic hammer fighting a dude with a magic spear, it is entirely probable that Christine would be more focused on doing her job than worrying about something that she does not currently understand.  Hopefully, this is the kind of reaction that we will see more of in the Marvel Universe.  Instead of characters that immediately freak out or assume the worst about the people who are different or dangerous around them, to have instead characters that look at something outside the scope of their experiences, says, “huh, that’s weird,” and then goes back to doing their job because lives depend on it.  It was refreshing and fun.  Similarly, Benedict Wong’s character, Wong was also highly entertaining.  Mostly there for comic relief, the Master of the Mystic arts also demonstrates a great deal of historical knowledge, and walks the path between Strange and Mordo; demonstrating a desire to uphold the laws of nature, while at the same time recognizing the complicated necessities that might require one to break those laws.  I am definitely looking forward to seeing the character grow into a mentor and friend figure for Strange in future films.

Meh Marvel Villain is Slightly Less Meh Than Usual
One consistent problem with the Marvel Cinematic Universe has been its villains.  Over the course of a dozen films, there has only been one exceptional villain (Loki).  The rest have been a grab bag of interchangeable religious nut jobs (Red Skull, Malekith, Ronin the Destroyer, and Ultron), mad scientists/businessmen (that guy from Ant Man, and all of Tony Stark’s villains), and shadowy entities/organizations (Hydra and Thanos).  While Mads Mikkelsen’s villain Kaecilius, stills fits Marvel’s favorite villain cliche (the religious whacko), Mikkelsen’s performance brings a little bit of subtlety to an otherwise bland and recognizable stereotype.

One of the things that makes or breaks a villain is how he relates to the hero.  The best villains (e.g. the Batman villain of your choice) tend to be interesting in the ways that they are similar to the heroes they oppose.  One of Marvel’s biggest issues with villains is giving us “bad guys” that have absolutely nothing in common with our heroes, who don’t share motivations or perspectives on reality that would complicate the hero’s dilemma.  Kaecilius is different.  He is very similar to Dr. Strange; so similar, in fact, that the Ancient One is at first reluctant to teach Strange because he reminds her of Kaecilius.  In their first real conversation with each other, Kaecilius echoes Strange’s earlier assertion that human beings are nothing more than “insignificant specks in an uncaring universe.”  Kaecilius is seeking what he views as the ultimate good; to banish death, to eliminate difference, and to lead earth into an eternity of peace and “oneness.”  For a hero like Dr. Strange, a man who took an oath to save lives, and whose career consisted of fighting against death on a daily basis, to hear the proclamation, “Death is an insult!” throws into confusion his perspectives on his own beliefs about death, and on the training he has received from the Ancient One.  Mikkelsen’s portrayal also confounds the problem, because unlike many of the “religious” villains we have in Marvel, he brings passion to the character’s belief.  Not just the passion of anger or self righteousness, but grief; Kaecilius’ conversation with Dr. Strange culminates in an impassioned plea for the righteousness of his cause, complete with tears of at the injustice of death.  This is something we do not see in Marvel villains; total, unwavering belief in the rightness of his cause.  Most Marvel villains delight in being evil; they seem to have a really good time being really really bad.  But this is a villain who believes, with all of his mind and all of his emotions, that he cause is just.  He is misguided, yes, but his intentions are not selfish, but selfless.

Of course, except for this single scene between Kaecilius and Dr. Strange, we are really not given enough information about the character for him to truly break out of “meh Marvel villain” mold.  We don’t know anything about the events that have led Kaecilius to the path he is on, the choices he or the Ancient One made that drove him to Dormammu.  In the end, while we get a glimpse of an interesting character, there is simply not enough time devoted to Kaecilius to allow him to develop into a truly interesting villain.

What Am I Looking At?
One of the best parts of this movie were the stunning visuals.  Having seen the trailers, I knew I was in for a couple mind-trippy scenes, but I was in no way prepared for the sheer variety of visual spectacles that I was in for.  The effects range from Inception like reality warping; folding, bending, and breaking a complex city-scape, to Matrix style fight scenes in which mind dominates over mere physical strength, to a more lighthearted astral (ghost) fistfight, an inter-dimensional rollercoaster that is a surrealist’s dream, and fantastic final fight scene that gloriously plays with the time paradoxes the film sets up in two different confrontations.  Every time I thought I had figured out what the film’s creators were trying to do visually, they added another element, another complication, another beautiful layer that kept drawing me deeper and deeper into the visual spectacle.

Normally, as I said earlier, I am not the kind of person to go wild for special effects.  The visuals of Dr. Strange, however, are just so well done, so detailed, so diverse, and so perfect for the story that I was overwhelmed.

It Themes at Times…
One of the most interesting parts of the film was the theme of time and the importance that time plays in human existence.  This is symbolized in the course of the film by the various watches that appear.  The first watch we see comes right at the beginning when Dr. Strange is performing surgery.  He is intensely focused on his patient, and he acerbically demands that a fellow doctor cover his watch so that he will not be distracted by it.  Thematically, this introduces us to Strange’s perspective on time… time, the slow ticking on toward death, is an obstacle on the path to healing or to life.  By covering the watch, Strange is symbolically manipulating time, stopping its progress long enough to halt this particular case of entropy and hold off death a little longer.

The next occasion on which we see the watch symbolism is when Dr. Strange is getting ready to head off to his speaking engagement.  He opens a drawer filled with watches, selects one, and carefully puts it on.  Again, we see the Doctor demonstrating his control over time… he chooses the watch; symbolically, he chooses the moment, the time.  This control is only illusory, however, and is immediately shattered by Strange’s car accident.  this accident takes away Strange’s use of his hands, and consequently, his ability to exercise control over death, life, and time.

This shattering of Strange’s control is echoed by the breaking of his watch, the “only thing he has left” when he arrives at Kamar Taj.  A completely broken man, Strange begins to regain the control he used to have through his study of magic.  The quote on the broken watch becomes important because it establishes a new goal for Strange, and a  new relationship and understanding with time.  The watch, which was given to him by his former lover, Christine Palmer, is inscribed, “Time will tell my love for you.”  In this new perspective, time is not an enemy to be silenced and held back, but the very medium which allows for life to be lived.  As the Ancient One later comments, “Death is what gives life meaning; to know your days are numbered, your time is short.”  Time is not Strange’s enemy anymore, to be controlled and governed, but instead his ally, which is symbolized by him choosing to put on the shattered watch.

When Kaecilius confronts Dr. Strange with the assertion that Time and Death are the enemy of humanity, he is presenting him with his old opinion, the allure of his old sense of control.  By joining with Kaecilius and Dormammu, Strange would effectively be covering the watch for good; breaking the control that time has over humanity.  But Stephen has grown enough to recognize that time is a good thing, that “Time will tell…” what gives life meaning.  Although he is still tempted by the promise of life without death, of a world outside of time, he rejects Kaecilius’ offer, thereby gaining the “control through surrender” that is at the heart of magic in the story.

This is symbolized by his use of the Eye of Agamotto in the final confrontation with Dormammu.  Recognizing the value and power of time, Strange uses the power of the Eye to create a time loop, symbolized by a band around his wrist (like a watch).  In Dormammu’s dark dimension, which exists outside of time, the loop represents time and meaning.  Each time Dr. Strange dies, therefore, the loop resets, time giving death meaning by keeping Dormammu bound in his own dimension, away from Earth.  Not only does Strange’s repeated death give life on earth meaning, but “time tells” how much he loves… enough to die a myriad of painful ways in order to protect the world he cares about (a bit more on repeat dying later).

The theme draws to a conclusion with the film, when we have Strange standing in the New York Sanctum, again putting on the broken wrist watch.  Although his concept of time has been radically redefined, Strange is now able to comfortably incorporate concepts of brokenness, death, and their relationship with time into his perspective.  Having come full circle, he neither shuns nor dreads the role that time will play in his life, which enables him to look out on the world around him with calm and power.


Dying Only to Die Again
Before I wrap up, I want to come back to my favorite part of the film.  Dr. Strange flies into Dormammu’s Dark Dimension, and calls on him to bargain.  Dormammu immediately kills the interloper, only to discover that the Doctor has used the Eye of Agamotto to create a time loop that traps the two of them in a perpetual cycle of death and return.  Strange dies time and again; keeping Dormammu trapped until he is willing to give in to Strange’s demands.

There is something visceral about seeing a character die over and over and over again.  There are generally two types of character death cycles; those that trap the character, and those that the character chooses.  Groundhog Day, and the Supernatural episode "Mystery Spot" are both examples of instances where the character is trapped repeating the same day over again.  In both cases, the endless cycle, the unchanging days result in (at least temporarily) insanity.  There is a madness to being trapped in an endless loop with no indication of how to break out and no way to change their world.  Every action they take is essentially useless, as it is all undone when they wake up again in the morning, the day they just lived once again looming ahead of them. 

The second kind of death cycle is much more interesting and compelling.  These are characters who are caught in some kind of loop, and choose, over and over again, to die for a specific cause.  The two major examples I can think of are “Heaven Sent,” an episode of Doctor Who? (hey, we came back to it!) in which the Doctor is imprisoned in a Time Lord interrogation chamber.  Instead of giving his captors what they want, the Doctor figures out where he is and what is going on.  He is separated from his TARDIS by a wall of impenetrable crystal.  Each time he reaches the wall, he reaches out, punches the wall, and then is shot.  Dying, he drags himself back to a teleportation room, where he reconfigures his molecules, essentially being “reborn” with no memory of the event, and no knowledge of how he got there.  The fascinating thing about this episode is, even though the wall is supposed to be impenetrable, as the days turn to years turn to centuries turn to millennia turn to eons, the wall is gradually ground away, and eventually, billions of lives and years into the future, the Doctor is able to break through.  The other example of a character choosing repeated death is from the episode “The Librarians: and the Point of Salvation” from (obviously), The Librarians.  In this episode, the explosion of a prototype computer merges with a video game, trapping the show’s protagonists in a living zombie escort mission (I know, I know. it’s crazy and corny, and I love it).  Ezekiel Jones, the main protagonist for this episode, is forced to watch himself and his friends die over and over as he tries to find a way to beat the game and escape.  No one else remembers what happens in the previous attempts of the game, so he takes the lead, using hundreds of repetitions to learn physics, engineering, martial arts in an attempt to beat the level and get his friends out alive.  What is so compelling about both examples is that, even though the characters are trapped, they manage to keep their sanity by focusing on something larger than their own pain.  The Doctor knows that people will be hurt if he gives up the information he knows to the Time Lords, and Ezekiel knows that if he fails, he and his friends will be trapped in the game simulation forever.  It is their concern for others that allows them to endure eternities of suffering without giving up.

This is what makes the time look in Dr. Strange so powerful, and so compelling for us as viewers.  In this loop, we have Dormammu, the ultimate self interested.  He wants only to consume the worlds around him, to take possession of each part of the multiverse and subdue it to his will.  He is the antipathy of individuality and personhood (a fact demonstrated by his minions, the “mindless ones”).  His only concern in the time loop is for the inconvenience it causes him.  He has all the power… he can torture Strange, blot him out in an instant, toy with him like a cat with a mouse, but ultimately, there is nothing Dr. Strange can do to save his own life.  Yet, for all his power, his selfishness makes Dormammu vulnerable to madness that unending repetition brings.  While Strange is made to suffer, he is triumphant, treating the pain as “an old friend,” and embracing the consistency, the repetition that protects the world he cares for.  Strange is able to endure constant, repeated torment and death because he is serving a greater good.  I find it believable that Dr. Strange endured much more torment than we are treated to in the film.  Can you imagine how many repetitions it took for Dormammu to realize that nothing he did, no creative way of killing Strange changed the outcome of their fight?  How many of repetitions before he realized that Strange had won the fight by losing?  How many hundreds of deaths Strange would have endured as Dormammu vented his unspent frustration in finding new and creative ways to torture the doctor?  In a line cut from the final version of the film, Strange comments, “We have been over this a thousand times.”  Death and pain are familiar friends to Dr. Strange because they are what give life meaning (in this case, they literally give life to the world he is protecting).

I’m getting philosophical/theological here, but I find it fascinating and beyond cool that for Dr. Strange, “ultimate meaning” comes, not from the pursuit of the self, but from self denial!  When Strange is focused on himself; on how much money he can make, on whether he can heal his hands, on how great a sorcerer he can be, he is at his least powerful.  By caring for others around him, his patients, his friends, the Ancient One, he is able to break through the barriers in his way and accomplish amazing things.  And the movie ends with another sacrifice.  As the victorious Strange is shown standing in the New York sanctum, we see that his hands still shake.  If he channeled his magic into his body, he could steady his hands and go back to being a surgeon.  Instead, however, he chooses to sacrifice his illustrious career, the only thing that used to give his life meaning, and continue down a path of pain and suffering because it is “another way to help people,” a way to truly give significance to his existence.

Wrap it up Already!
So I know that was a really long post.  Seriously… I have written graduate school essays that were shorter.  But I had a number of different ideas I wanted to hit on, and the words kept coming.  Those of you who made it all the way to the end… CONGRATULATIONS!  I don’t know that I would have had your fortitude reading anyone else's post.  Hopefully next month I will keep things a bit shorter, maybe do more of a Rants and Raves style (after all, I am looking forward to seeing Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them, and Star Wars: Rogue One, along with some T.V. shows that I want to review).  I also might do a political post at the start of the month… after all, I have been noticeably silent on politics since the presidential elections, so you might be getting some thoughts on that.  Also, at the end of December, I am going to try for a “2016 Year in Review” post, so keep an eye out for my thoughts on the highs and lows of the last 12 months.  It is crazy to think that the year is almost over!

Anyway, back to reality!

Monday, November 7, 2016

SUPERNATURAL: Concerning the British Men of Letters

Dear Readers,

You are in for a bit of a treat today, because this post is a bit of everything.  I am going to be doing a review of the latest season of a popular T.V. show, but I am also going to incorporate some political, philosophical, and ethical musings as well.  For those of you who don’t like my political or theological reviews, please come back a bit later this month for my review of the latest Marvel superhero film, Dr. Strange (And boy, do I have a lot to say about that one).  For the rest of you, read on, bearing in mind that there will be spoilers for the T.V. show Supernatural.

For those of you who have had your head under a proverbial rock for the last twelve years, who have never been on social media (particularly Tumblr), and who have no idea what Supernatural is, I congratulate you.  It is very very hard to get that far off the grid.  Supernatural follows two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, whose father raised them to hunt and kill monsters.  Every week, the boys encounter some sort of supernatural threat; ghosts, vampires, demons, angels, or any of a hundred other monsters.  They proceed to investigate the threat, identifying the creature and its weaknesses, and the episode generally ends when they kill the monster or save the innocent civilians about to be killed by said monster.  Of course, the whole format is complicated with seasonal or multi-seasonal story arcs, reoccurring villains, and the family dynamic between Sam and Dean and various other characters on the show.  Ultimately, Supernatural was summed up by a line in the second episode, “Saving people, hunting things, the family business.”

Over the seasons, the show has dealt with epic themes like the war between heaven and hell, the necessity and ethical questionability of killing, abuse, abandonment, and a plethora of complex moral conundrums by maintaining a solid moral center, but allowing for the shades of gray that consistently define human existence.  This latest season is no different.

Season 12 opens by introducing the main antagonists for the season, the British Men of Letters (hereafter referred to as the BMoL).  The BMoL are a secret society that specializes in learning about the supernatural and defending Britain from these monstrous threats.  They are, essentially, the European counterparts to the American hunters.  As such, they should be allies to the Winchester brothers.  However, the strident differences between the British style of “hunting” and the American hunters have led the BMoL to regard the Winchesters as adversaries to their interests.  Thus, this season kicks off with a bang as Sam is shot and captured by the BMoL and tortured in an attempt to get him to reveal the location of other American hunters.

Right off the bat, the difference between the American and British hunters is highlighted.  In Britain, every port, every entrance, every street corner has been warded to inform hunters if a monster should enter the country.  As soon as a monster is identified, a team is dispatched immediately to kill it, eliminating the potential threat as soon as it becomes known.  In the States, hunters locate monsters by sifting through news stories and looking for unusual incidents or deaths.  Generally the hunters only show up after there has been a fatality.  The BMoL see the haphazard way in which hunting is accomplished in the US as potentially lethal, and have come to impose order and civility upon the wild west of American hunting.

Immediately there are a lot of practical, political, and philosophical questions brought up in this dichotomy.  But before I get to that, I want to address a criticism/concern that I have seen brought up multiple times in relation to the BMoL.  A number of blogs and reviews that I have read have questioned the likelihood of the sheer arrogance of the BMoL.  They think it unrealistic that educated, informed, reasonable people would believe so unequivocally that they could and should impose their own system in the US.  Personally, I not only find this aspect of the BMoL to be possible, but to be probable.  Over the last five years, I have lived in Britain, Ireland, and the US, and, in my experience, this attitude toward American politics is almost universal in non-Americans.  The statement, “If only Americans would do it like (insert European country of your choice),” has been applied to issues as wide ranging as racism, gun control, health care, immigration, and education.  This “one size fits all” approach to the political issues of the United States is wide ranging but hopelessly naive. Looking at the BMoL approach to hunting in a US context provides a microcosm for these other issues.

From a practical perspective, the British Men of Letters are indulging in wishful thinking if they believe that the techniques that they use in Britain will be successfully implemented in the US.  Consider some statistical comparisons.  The population of Great Britain is roughly 64 million people.  The population of the USA is about 320 million.  There are about 5 times as many people living is the US than in Britain.  Over the course of 12 seasons of Supernatural we have been introduced to 35 hunters, more than half of whom are deceased.  That makes the average number of hunters in the US, as far as we know, 17, maybe 20.  In contrast, in three episodes of the end of season 11 and beginning of season 12, we have met at least five members of the BMoL, with the implication being that they have a number of other hunters working for the organization.  Strictly in terms of population, there are not enough American hunters to create a system similar to what they have in Britain.  Looking at the idea of coastline and ports of entry.  Great Britain is an island nation, which means that ports of entry are limited to safe harbors and airports.  As such, it is entirely feasible to put warding and sigils at all points on entrance into the nation.  Even given this fact, the coastline for Great Britain is approximately 7,700 miles long.  In contrast, the coastline for the US is roughly 95,400 miles long.  There is nearly 12 times the amount of coastline to secure in the US as there is in Britain.  Again, given our numbers of British versus American hunters, there would need to be at least 60 American hunters available to control the coastal borders of the US.  This does not even bring into consideration unsecured land borders.  While Britain is an island nation and does not share a land border with any other nations, the US has 7,500 miles of land borders with Mexico and Canada.  Much of this area, especially on the border with Canada is wilderness where the border cannot be secured.  While it is a feasible possibility of securing all the entrances into an island nation that shares no land borders with another nation, it is not possible given the vast border of the US to do the same.

Similarly, consider the size of the US with that of Great Britain.  The US is 3,797,000 square miles.  Of that, nearly 500,000 square miles are considered preservation or wilderness areas.  This is five times the size of the totality of Britain (94,000 square miles).  This is not just uninhabited land, this is land populated by a huge variety of natural predators.  Many of the monster attacks in Supernatural are justified as animal attacks by uninformed local authorities.  This is not a possibility in Britain, where the largest living predators are the badger, the red fox, and the highly endangers Scottish wildcat.  In contrast, the continental United States boasts three different types of bears, crocodiles and alligators, cougars, wolves, as well as an assortment of slightly smaller, but still dangerous hunting cats, coyotes, ROUSs ( look it up;) ), and various poisonous snakes, insects, and arachnids.  Discerning which attacks are legitimately animal attacks, and which are the result of the predations of a supernatural monster is a large part of the job of the American hunters, an aspect that the BMoL never have to deal with.  Many of these monsters are born out of, or have been living in these wilderness areas for decades or centuries, preying on humans sporadically or according to the specific chronology of their lifecycle.  It is simply not feasible given the wide ranging nature of the American supernatural monsters to implement a system like that found in Britain.

Having covered in some detail the practical reasons why it is not feasible to implement the same system in America as is found in Britain, I want to shift gears a bit and look at the ethical issues with the BMoL plan.  At first glance, it seems like the BMoL have the moral high ground; there has not been a monster related death in Britain since 1965.  Fifty years of successful hunting, fifty years of lives saved seems like a strong place to take a stand.  But what has been the cost of those fifty years of apparent peace?  As soon as a monster enters the country, the BMoL know about it.  Within 20 minutes, the monster has been captured, and within 40 minutes that monster is dead.  But in Supernatural the morality is not so black and white as “monster…bad…kill.”  Over 12 seasons we have seen vampires that refuse to hunt humans, werewolves fighting against their predatory nature in order to remain human, deals with demons that have saved lives, and ghosts that were trying to protect innocents from their vengeful counterparts.  We have also seen individuals that fall in the dubious boundaries between human and monster; psychics, angels, zanna, small gods, reapers, or hunters who dabble in magic.  How can the wards and sigils which identify “monsters” entering the country judge the entire complexity of individual experience?  Have the BMoL unwittingly murdered innocent individuals strictly because they are a different species?  This is racial profiling at its darkest extreme; choosing to assume that because a person is different that they will inevitably act in a certain way.  This is why the Winchesters have a very specific criteria in hunting a monster; any creature that is “dropping bodies” has lost its right to life, but creatures that are making a conscious effort to live peacefully with human beings is given the benefit of the doubt.  Instead of assuming that a monster is guilty by virtue of its “not being human,” the Winchesters assume that an individual is innocent until proven guilty.  Yes, this means that over the years there are people who get killed by monsters.  But it also means that there are “monsters” that are living their own, peaceful lives.  Given 12 seasons of monsters, including episodes that are filmed from the perspective of these individuals, it is not a philosophically viable position to privilege human lives over the lives of the supernatural creatures.

From a broader perspective, does it save more lives to kill even morally questionable monsters immediately?  Consider the “villains” of Supernatural.  Often, the Winchesters are forced into uneasy alliances with characters who have previously been enemies.  Consider a fan favorite, the Trickster, the angel Gabriel.  Even by the relaxed Winchester “dropping bodies” criteria, Gabriel deserves to be hunted and killed.  He has, however, also been a useful character, providing the boys with information about the wider plot conflicts, and serving as a catalyst for the brothers to engage with their personal and emotional baggage.  In the context of the show, the Winchesters decide not to execute Gabriel even though he deserves it, a decision allows him to save their lives later on in the season.  In a similar vein, the demon Crowley is certainly deserving of being killed.  He is a conniving, manipulative bastard, who acts out of pure self interest.  Fortunately for humanity, however, sometimes that self interest aligns itself with the interests of the world in general.  Crowley was an irreplaceable figure in the battle to defeat the Leviathans, Abaddon, and the Darkness.  Given his role in stopping multiple apocalypses, one wonders whether the strategy the BMoL employ in killing ever single monster that enters into their realm actually saves lives in the long run, or if it endangers them by creating situations in which humanity has no supernatural allies upon whom to call when situations inevitably escalate beyond human control?

I guess the take away from all of this is: the world is complicated.  The BMoL look at the Supernatural universe and see everything is pure black and white; for or against, monster or human, kill or be killed.  But they fail to take into account the vast complexity of the created world.  What works in one place does not always work in another because people have different experiences, different values different goals or incentives, or different threats or dangers.  It is dangerous to reduce the world to your own perspective and to assume that everyone else is either wrong or evil.  There is value in a diversity of thought because no one is perfect, and no single individual holds the standard on right and wrong.  Viewers of Supernatural can agree that there is value to the way the BMoL have done things in Britain; no monster related deaths in over fifty years?!? That is amazing and cool.  But to assume that they have the authority and moral obligation to impose their will on a different nation and culture is the height of arrogance; an arrogance that, sadly, seems to be based in reality not merely in the convenience of plot.

Well, back to reality!