Nerds of a Feather 2024 Hugo Packet and Introduction

The Voter's Packet for the Hugo Awards will be released shortly and made available to all members of Glasgow Worldcon. As is traditional, Nerds of a Feather has put together a compilation of what we feel represents the best and the breadth of our collective work published in 2023. While the purpose of the Voter's Packet is to help eligible voters make an informed decision when casting their ballots, we are also making the packet available to all of our readers who may want to take a look back at what we did last year. 

Below, you can find Adri's introduction to the Voter's Packet followed by the Table of Contents with links to each of the essays, reviews, and features we included.

If you'd like, you can download the entire Voter's Packet and take Nerds of a Feather on the go:

• PDF
• epub

Introduction

How do you begin an introduction to a seventh year of Hugo finalist work?

Perhaps you start by acknowledging that seven, to many people, is a bit magical. From seven sins to seven chakras to seven wonders and, of course, the destiny of that seventh son or daughter in the fairy tale, seven is an excellent number for things that are a bit… special. It’s a lot of items - more than a handful! - but you can’t put them equally into smaller categories, so you just have to step back and take in the whole seven-ness of it all. Magic.

Seven Hugo nominations. Wow. Being relevant and recognised as a fanzine (did you notice there are seven letters in “fanzine”? coincidence?) for the best part of a decade is beyond an honour: it’s an absolutely humbling vote of confidence from our readers. Out here, long after the heyday of the blog (yet somehow before the universal acceptance of blogs being legitimate fanzines), our team are out here putting words of criticism, analysis, conversation and pure nerdy joy onto www.nerds-feather.com, because we love doing it. (seven letters in “feather” as well…) That we are still finding our audience means more than we can possibly say. Thank you. 

As always, we’re on the ballot in excellent company, both old and new: Black Nerd Problems, Idea, Hugo Book Club Blog, The Full Lid, and Journey Planet are all fantastic publications and it’s a delight to be recognised alongside them.

In house, our editorial team has grown in the last couple of years: along with our founders G and Vance, and our senior editors Joe and Adri (that’s me!) we’ve got a day-to-day editing dream team of Roseanna Pendlebury, Arturo Serrano and Paul Weimer helping Nerds of a Feather keep our schedules packed and our dreams on track. (seven editors, you say?). Paul is also recognised on the ballot for Best Fan Writer this year, and we wish him all the luck! This zine has always been a labour of collective love, and especially through the ups and downs of the last few years, it’s teamwork and mutual support that keeps the lights on for creative endeavours like ours. Our spectacular international flock of writers in 2023 (2+0+2+3 = 7) was Alex Wallace, Ann Michelle Harris, Chris Garcia, Clara Cohen, Dean E.S. Richard, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, Haley Zapal, Joe DelFranco and Phoebe Wagner, and the only way we could ask for a better team is if we found some sort of cloning device and made more of them. 

Also, several of us are from, or based in, the UK, so it’s particularly exciting to be recognised at a Scottish Worldcon (7 letters in Glasgow). Shout out to our fellow British Hugo nominees across all the categories!

2023 was a fantastic year for Nerds of a Feather: we nearly broke our all-time record for most pieces published in a single year (315!) (3-1+5 = 7) and took home a collective IGNYTE award for best critic, reinforcing our belief that we’re writing work that’s important to us and to our readers. As well as our packed schedule of reviews, essays and interviews, we also ran a new project in 2023 after taking a year off in 2022, as Star Wars Subjectivities (7 syllables) ran a series of essays and roundtables taking another look at this ever expanding nerd classic. In project lead G’s own words:

This project will follow a somewhat different format than our typical special modules. We will not be providing dossier-style reviews that present opinions with supporting evidence to make an argument that aspires to objectivity. Rather, we will lean into the subjectivity of our opinions with nakedly partisan feelpieces. Sometimes these will take the form of love letters or furious rants; sometimes they will be more measured. The point, ultimately, is just to be honest about how we feel, as individuals.

It’s no easy task putting together the highlights of a bumper year, but we hope this packet will guide both new and returning visitors through a few of our flock’s favourites from the year that was. Organised into five categories (it would have been seven, but we put together the packet before I came up with this bit), we’ve got a little bit of everything from everyone who wrote for us last year, so you can get a taste of what we think makes Nerds of a Feather so special. Of course, if you want more, it’s all available for free, as long as our hosting lasts, at www.nerds-feather.com: our chronological sidebar should make it easy to find the 2023 posts which are under consideration for this award.

As well as being magical, seven is, of course, also a lucky number for many, and I’d be lying if I said we don’t hope it’ll be lucky for us. But regardless of what the voters decide, we’re proud and humbled and super excited to be here on this seventh Hugo journey. Thank you for having us again, voters.

Table of Contents

Section I: Literature Reviews
Review: The Faithless by C. L. Clark

Review: The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler
The October Daye reread: A Red Rose Chain
Review: Mammoths at the Gate

Microreview: The Jinn-bot of Shantiport by Samit Basu

Microreview: Gods of the Wyrdwood by R. J. Barker

The Wheel of Time reread: A Crown of Swords

Section II: AV Media Reviews
Asteroid City lays bare the scaffolding of narration
What's In An Adaptation: A Sapkowski Fanatic Watches Netflix's The Witcher

Film Review: The Creator

Review: Suzume

Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse Review

Review: Barbenheimer

Festival View - Intense Science Fiction Short Films of 2023

Section III: Conversations/Interviews
Adri and Joe Talk About Books: 2023 Hugo Award Finalists

Rereading The Old Kingdom series by Garth Nix

6 More Books With Premee Mohamed

Adri and Joe Read the Hugos: Novel

Section IV: Commentary
Lindsay, Leckie, and LeGuin: A century of pronouns and gender in SFF
The Writer's Guild of America is On Strike

Our Retellings are Dull: the Problem of the Modern Mythical Reimagining

So... let's talk about the 'Tok

Section V: Star Wars Subjectivities

On Andor Translating Theory into Community Action

Hello There, General Kenobi

The Empire Strikes Back

The Mandalorian

TIE Fighter video game (1994)

Review: The Road to Roswell by Connie Willis

A first contact with a place we’ve seen many times before

I think we’re at a point when even making fun of Roswell conspiracy theories is itself a cliche, so tired and worn that little town in New Mexico has become in the years since what is in all likelihood a weather balloon crashed there in 1947 (even if it was several miles out of town and closer to nearby Corona—it becomes almost a supernatural version of Tours/Poitiers or Bull Run/Manassas). It is, most often, a reminder of how far science fiction has come, both in and of itself and within the broader constellation of American culture. It is consigned to the great storage room of our genre’s past, looked at in amusement and wistfulness on occasion, but rarely taken out and displayed to the world in its own right, and never entirely thrown away as we want to keep some sense of the past (I’m tempted to compare this tendency to the Cairo Genizah, although nothing so literally sacred is involved). However, Connie Willis has taken Roswell out for a spin once again, in her 2023 novel The Road to Roswell.

Your protagonist is Francie, a reasonable, normal American thirty-something woman (I’m guessing the age here but it strikes me as plausible) who is going to her friend’s wedding. This friend has had a long string of peculiar boyfriends, many of whom have been conspiracy theorists or other whackos of that general nature. Francie had thought that her friend was finally going to settle down with a normal, well-adjusted man who happened to like the desert, hence the wedding being in that famous town in New Mexico. Hoping against hope that it is mere coincidence that the annual alien festival is in town, she is disappointed to learn that, no, her fiancé is yet another conspiracy theorist. Francie accepts she’ll grin and bear it, eventually, after trying to talk her dear old college friend out of it, but the wedding is in the UFO museum. Francie goes out to her friend’s car to get some festive lighting, and is stunned to find in that car not only the lighting, but an actual, living, honest-to-God alien.

What follows over the next four hundred-ish pages is a delightfully weird, thoroughly entertaining road trip story through the odder side of Americana, blended with 1950s-style alien abduction story, and sprinkled with classic Western films for seasoning. This is a book of many genres, and Willis handles it all dexterously, as if spinning plates on sticks, never dropping them, never even letting them wobble.

Francie is the perfect sort of protagonist for this wacky and wonderful story. She is deeply, profoundly normal—not normal for science fiction fans, normal for the American mainline culture (at least that of the educated class). She isn’t too keyed into all the science fiction tropes that Willis is playing with. Some stories have protagonists who approach the weirdness of their worlds with a certain familiarity, a sort of self-insert for the people who write science fiction. Not so here. Francie only has familiarity with any of this through osmosis, through the most popular, mainstream speculative fiction, and as such sees all this with not exasperation but with genuine bewilderment, not unlike the protagonists of those old 1950s films. In this way, Willis makes all this old stuff new again, and sees how it works.

The vastness of the American West plays a role here. To those of us in cities, such massive expanses feel spectacularly alien (perhaps this is why they have so often been the sets for science fiction movies, then and now). It is here Willis makes both humans and nonhumans feel equally alien to one another. It is this particular juxtaposition of character and setting where a truck stop feels bizarre and the glittering Las Vegas strip feels like something from another planet.

There’s also a large engagement with the Western genre, although in a way that is hard to discuss without ruining the magnificent experience of letting the reader find out for themselves. This alien is being introduced to America, in all its peculiarities and foibles (but nothing much more grave than that, being a relatively light-hearted work), and it is bemused, as many foreigners are. This fish out of water is flung into the frontier mythos, and misinterprets things through that lens, to comical and profound effect. I’m not sure whether Frederick Jackson Turner would be proud, but he would certainly have some thoughts, quite possibly strong ones.

And another point that is hard to discuss without spoiling: the nature of the alien. This is a very interesting creature, on Earth for interesting reasons, and one who learns to communicate in interesting ways. It is this special form of communication that interacts with this panoramic West in ways that drive the plot forward, leaving what may once have been trite feeling fresh and new. This is helped by Willis providing it with interesting characters, Francie foremost but by no means alone, to play off of.

There are only a few defects. One is a relationship between two characters resolving in the end in a way that felt oddly rushed (there’s another such example, which feels out of nowhere, but very in character, so I was fine with it). The other big one is a throwaway reference to Native Americans and their tangential role in the plot (and I mean very tangential) that felt rather othering in that old SF way. One could object to a sanitized portrayal of the American West here, those indigenous to that land most of all, but that runs into problems of tone that I’m not sure could be elegantly squared.

While those missteps should be acknowledged, The Road to Roswell is a fun read. It’s the sort of science fiction that reminds us why we fell in love with the genre in the first place, and more broadly, perhaps more importantly, shows us why our ancestors fell in love with it. This is a novel that unrepentantly dusts off old tropes and takes them for a spin. I encourage you to enjoy the ride.

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10.

POSTED BY: Alex Wallace, alternate history buff who reads more than is healthy.

Reference: Willis, Connie. The Road to Roswell [Del Rey, 2023].

Review: The Book of Clarence

A unique, irreverent, genre-mixing dark comedy wrapped around deep messages on race and class

The theatrical trailer for The Book of Clarence left me feeling confused and a little uneasy about seeing the film. Was it an alternate history, a comedy, a parody, a tragic epic drama? Was it an allegorical Black social commentary, fantasy/sci-fi, religious, anti-religious? After seeing the film, the answer to all of these questions is: yes. There was so much going on in this story. The quirky presentation style is so unique that it’s hard to know who the target audience is. But sometimes weird is good.

The story is set during the last year of the life of Jesus. Yes, the Jesus. Jesus is a popular local celebrity in the area (due to his legendary miracles) but initially he remains mostly offscreen and is barricaded by an entourage of disciples. Clarence is a local hustler, but with a good heart. He gambles, sells drugs, drag-races chariots, and takes care of his ailing/aging mother. When his ill-gotten debts catch up to him and the local mobster threatens to kill him, Clarence hatches a scheme to make money by taking advantage of Jesus’s popularity as the Messiah. At first he tries to join the disciples but is immediately rejected by them, including his twin brother Thomas (yes, the famous doubting Thomas) so Clarence is prevented from any access to Jesus. Then he gets a better idea. He decides to con people into believing he is a miracle worker to get money.  Clarence enlists his best friend Elijah and recently freed fighter Barabbas to help with the scheme. But things take a turn when the occupying Roman military catches up with Clarence leading to an unexpected encounter with the real Jesus. The additional twist in this film is that, other than the occupying Romans, every character is Black.

The film is initially a parody of classic Bible epics such as Ben Hur or The Ten Commandments, using ironically epic background music, dramatic chariot races, and even 1960s-style gold-framed title pages in between the major acts of the story. On the other hand, it is also fantastical. The drugs Clarence smokes with his friends cause them to temporarily float in the air with their bodies turning and spinning, gravity-free. When Clarence gets an idea, it materializes as an actual light above his head. The fantastical special effects are a surreal juxtaposition against the retro epic vibe.

At first, the feel of the film is epic and historical but also slightly comical/absurd. However, the film eventually dives into the true nature of belief, loyalty, and morality. Although the people in his community have a range of spiritual beliefs, particularly as it relates to the Messiah, Clarence seems to be the only one who doesn’t believe in any form of God or spirituality. However, he is willing to use the existing belief systems to achieve his goals by being a con artist and pretending to be an alternate Messiah. In a dual role, LaKeith Stanfield plays both Clarence and Clarence’s twin brother, Thomas the apostle, who has abandoned everything, including their ailing mother, to follow Jesus. Thomas despises Clarence’s petty criminal behavior, even as Clarence has devoted himself to caring for their mother. Thus we have the set-up of religious piety versus cynical pragmatism that permeates the film.

The best character in the film is Clarence’s best friend/sidekick Elijah. Elijah is open-minded about his beliefs, but also comfortable running scams and being loyal to Clarence and their bestie, chariot racer Mary Magdalene. In a pivotal scene, Mary Magdalene has been accused of adultery and chained to a wall to be brutally stoned to death. Elijah intervenes to protect her, risking his own death, but he cannot free her from the chain. Clarence is nowhere around and death seems imminent for Mary and Elijah until the real-deal Messiah shows up in a quietly jaw-dropping, Marvel-worthy scene.

The set design and costumes of the film are outstanding, making you feel transported to the ancient Jerusalem setting that has been reimagined for the story. The film also benefits from a strong cast reinterpreting classic characters, including Mary, the Mother of Jesus (hilariously played by Alfre Woodard), John the Baptist (David Oyelowo), and an irritable Pontius Pilate (James McAvoy). We also get quirky new characters played by Babs Olusanmokun from Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, Caleb McLaughlin from Stranger Things, and an almost unrecognizable Benedict Cumberbatch who takes the film to new irreverence as an accidentally mistaken version of Jesus.

All these strange, quirky characters revolve around Clarence as he tries to make a better life for himself and prove himself worthy of his ill-fated love interest Varinia (Anna Diop). LaKeith Stanfield leans into the cynical, skeptical, onscreen personality he has used effectively in prior fantastical films like Sorry to Bother You, Haunted Mansion, and even Get Out. Despite his cynicism, Clarence has enough cliched character growth to make some positive societal choices for others, even as he still scams those around him. Clarence continues to pursue his fake Messiah miracles with growing success until he finds out the true cost of the path he has chosen. Then the film takes a serious and dramatic turn into a violent exploration of racism and classism. We think we know what is going to happen, but the final crucifixion scenes subvert both traditional narratives and cynical new viewer expectations.

The Book of Clarence throws many important social justice themes and philosophical questions at viewers who may ultimately feel overwhelmed and disoriented by the irreverent and quirky delivery style. The trope of the lovable rascal with the heart of gold is quickly subverted into an ultimate theme of “mess around and find out.” It’s been a long time since a film completely bewildered me in such a good way. This movie is not for everyone. But, if you have an appetite for quirkiness and a tolerance for explorations of hard truths wrapped in an allegory, The Book of Clarence will give you a great deal to think about.

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10

Highlights:

• Weird and provocative. Not for everyone.
• Quirky subversive messaging.
• Strong performances by the lead actors.

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

Review: The Borgia Dove by Jo Graham

The second in a historical fantasy series centering about Giulia Farnese, mistress to Cardinal Rodrigo of the Borgia family. Yes, that Borgia family.

The first book in Jo Graham’s series, A Blackened Mirror, introduced us to the upbringing and early life of Giulia from a historical fantasy perspective. While the actual woman in history is her basis, Graham leavened her upbringing by making her a virginal (and kept deliberately so) seer, and used in magical rites amongst the scheme of factions seeking control of the Papacy in late 15th century Italy. That book ended with Giulia firmly as the concubine of the powerful and alluring Rodrigo Borgia, a man whose ambitions are to become the next Pope.

The Borgia Dove continues this story.

The year is 1492. Columbus has just started to sail the ocean blue, but has not yet reached the Americas, but he will, in a couple of months. What is also going to happen in even shorter order is Pope Innocent III is going to die. Rodrigo, now in his early 60’s, sees this as his last and best hope to become Pope. Giulia, as his mistress, wants to help him, not only because he is her lover, but the humanist side of the Church is far more appealing to her than the more traditional and conservative factions led by Rodrigo’s enemy Cardinal Della Rovere. But no longer a virgin, Giulia no longer has magic powers, and so to help Rodrigo, must cultivate other forms of power to help him succeed in the Conclave, and survive the deadly politics of 15th century Rome.

And so a story is told.

You probably have heard of the Borgias before, and may have seen, for example, the Showtime series The Borgias, with Jeremy Irons as the titular character. Giulia Farnese is an important secondary character in that series, even as it focuses on the Borgias more directly. Here, by making Giulia the primary focus, we get a look at events that are covered in the premiere episode of that series, but with Giulia’s perspective.

With Giulia as the focus, we do get Rodrigo as a major secondary character, as well as other Borgias and the other major characters in late 15th century Rome. Yes, the infamous Lucrezia Borgia is here, but she’s a 12 year old girl. She’s curious, bright, intelligent, and devoted to her father’s success. She is, at this stage in her life, nothing like what her infamy brought her. Also note the aforementioned Showtime series definitely aged her up. She also is, in this novel, most definitely Giulia’s protégé. Giulia may only be eighteen herself (again, the show aged her up), but she provides a female role model for Lucrezia. And their interactions are among the most delightful in the book.

Also, let’s talk about the fantastic elements, since the book does provide more than a patina of historical fantasy that Graham started in the first book. For while she may not think she is a magical “Dove” anymore, Giulia soon learns that while she thought she was finished with magic once she became Rodrigo’s lover, magic, and the higher powers, are not finished with her. Both those who would support her, and those who would seek to tear her down.

It’s a very sensual and sensuous book, and readers of Graham before are not going to be surprised by this. Not just sexual and carnal pleasures, mind you, but the entire world is brought with all the senses in mind. We get to feel, to smell, to taste, to see and to touch the late 15th century Rome that Giulia inhabits. The charm of having breakfast with a friend, spreading soft cheese over bread. The deadly darkness of the streets of Rome at night. The elegant seductiveness of a dance and a party. And much more. Graham’s writing brings us into Giulia’s world, life, passions and desires in a fully immersive way.

There is a lot of talk in SFF circles these days about romantasy: fantasy with a strong romance focus and theme. Although this novel does not claim that title, I think that this novel definitely would qualify for those looking for such work. Giulia is plainly in a romantic relationship with Rodrigo and considers him the love of her life, quite loyally so. Time and again, people outside her think she is in it for the money alone (the simony of the Borgias is portrayed as being part and parcel of the times and is not judged too negatively thereby), and Giulia insists, to others and to herself that she is not. And indeed, we see opportunities where Giulia could, if her heart was truly for gold and not Rodrigo, where she could “feather her own nest” and she does not take them.

Yes, some readers may find it distasteful that Giulia is indeed a third of Rodrigo’s age, and indeed, that does get brought up in the book as well. Graham shows this as a meeting of minds as well as hearts and souls. Together, on all three strands, she depicts Giulia and Rodrigo coming together, the Dove and the Bull (The Bull is a symbol of House Borgia). It may be a May-December romance, but the author makes it believable and more importantly, sympathetic to the reader.

And Giulia is a person a lot of readers can relate with. She’s curious, intelligent, loves to read, and seeks out books. Not just magical books, as part of the fantastic elements of this novel, but just books in general, in a world that Gutenberg has not yet set aflame with his invention. Giulia loves literacy, thought and that way of transmitting knowledge and story and that love comes across the page to us. One could easily imagine sitting to a lunch with Giulia and discussing Plutarch, Dante, and more. The novel is also full of allusions and references to books and writers for the savvy reader to discover.

Graham has done an excellent job here in making The Borgia Dove a standalone novel even as it builds on the life of Giulia and her upbringing from the first novel. While I would never want to turn you away from reading the first book, if you wanted to start the series here (perhaps you are a fan of Jeremy Irons’ portrayal or the whole very cut and thrust life of the Borgias), or just have limited time, I think you completely and utterly could begin here. Unlike the first book, which takes place over a number of years as Giulia grows up, learns who and what she is, and gets plunged into matters, the focus of this book, time-wise, is much narrower. Much of the book takes place during the week or so of that Papal Enclave that, spoilers for 500 years ago, will make Rodrigo into Pope Alexander VI. But what Giulia’s story brings to a story already told is her, female perspective, and the secret magical history of those who would oppose and cast down Rodrigo, and what Giulia must do, and is willing to do, in order to preserve her lover’s life, power and position.

Given the complex richness of Giulia’s life, and of course now the whole Borgia project, I look forward to what Graham will do in the third volume. I think it will be a challenge, since as hazy as history goes for most people, the Borgias are a name that still involve a lot of negativity and while the first two books have focused specifically on Giulia and kept people like the young Lucrezia in minor roles, going forward with the series means Graham will have an uphill climb in further changing people’s perceptions of Rodrigo, Lucrezia and the rest. I look forward to seeing how she takes on this challenge.

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Highlights:

• 15th Century Rome and Papal Politics strongly on display
• Giulia Farnese is a captivating character to capture your heart and mind
• Sensuous and immersive writing to bring you into Giulia’s world.

Reference: Graham, Jo, The Borgia Dove, [Candlemark and Gleam, 2024]


POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Review: Shogun Season 1

Shogun is prestige TV at its finest — the plotting and political machinations of Game of Thrones set amidst the backdrop of late Sengoku-era Japan in the 17th century (spoiler free).

When James Clavell wrote his novel Shogun in 1975, he was writing it as a white man entranced by Japanese culture. And while painstakingly researched, at its center is the experience of John Blackthorne, an Englishman who gets shipwrecked in 1600s Ajiro. The 1980 TV movie version continued this theme of focusing on the white visitor, though it featured Toshiro Mifune (the world-renowned actor and star of countless Kurosawa samurai films). Unsurprisingly, it was less than well-received in Japan, as viewers felt the depiction disregarded the culture and history of their native country.  

Adapting a problematic novel

This new adaptation takes a different tack, and it's made with an enormous budget, today's CGI technology, and a modern respect and appreciation for non-Western viewpoints. It takes Clavell's source text as a starting point and rough plot guide, rather than a recreation. Which is good — the book (which I read about 400 pages of before putting it down), is filled with incredible storytelling, but there are racist tropes and musings from the POV of Blackthorne that have no place in modern re-creations.

Instead, the show centers the Japanese characters as the primary voices in the story, and nearly all of the dialogue is in Japanese (check out this article about the hard work that went into translating for the show. Eriko Miyagawa, the producer, worked closely with actor/producer Hiroyuki Sanada to make sure Shogun was accurate to period Edo.) 

The plot

Blackthorne, an English navigator, gets swept up in the political drama of late Sengoku-era Japan, but for much of the show, he is literally watching and observing the action happening around him, understanding some but often missing the language and cultural knowledge to give anything context. 

After landing in Japan, Blackthorne is taken to Lord Toranaga, who is intrigued by his ship and cannon technology. The Portuguese have already colonized Japan, but they're Catholics, so Anglican Blackthorne views them as a hostile influence. As the Englishman learns about Japanese culture and politics, he becomes a key player in Toranaga's plans, navigating complex alliances and rivalries while trying to find a way back to his homeland. 

Toranaga is the one you're rooting for the entire show — a former fifth of the Council of Regents who are ruling while the Taiko's son comes of age. He's a good man, crafty and wise like Odysseus, and doesn't want to steal power. His actions are forced by his rivals, but they're no less brilliant for that.

The world

When there's a power vacuum in a monarchy (like the War of the Five Kings in A Game of Thrones),  a clash of power is sure to ensue, and in feudal Japan, it ends up being brutal. For the royals in this world, there is a stark and ruthless code of honor. Early on even in the first episode, we witness a young samurai make the mistake of dishonoring Toranaga's rival, and he is ordered to commit seppuku (ritualistic suicide) to atone for his sins. His infant son is also killed in order to end his bloodline, now contaminated with dishonor. 

Apart from the characters of this world is the visually stunning depiction of 1600s-era Osaka and Edo. CGI enables these feudal cities to come to life as we spend time in castles, fishing villages, and even period-era ships with samurai in full battle armor.

There's more than just on-screen brutality and war, though. We get glimpses into the beauty and art of feudal Japanese culture, from the telling of poetry and playing of music to the elaborate tea ceremonies and rock gardens found in many homes. The quiet parts reminded me of the wonderful time I spent playing Ghost of Tsushima a few years back — all zen and cherry blossoms. 

Women in Shogun

Like with A Game of Thrones, much of the action is done by the male warriors (a consequence in each of being based on actual history and the misogyny of the times). But the emotional heart and core of Shogun lies in what happens to the female characters — and how they persevere. 

Mariko, the translator, is the daughter of a disgraced warrior, and while she longs for death, manages to find purpose in her being left alive (there's also an incredible fight scene where she squares off against a dozen men with aplomb.) Similarly, Fuji, the widow of the previously mentioned samurai who commits seppuku, carries on with a grace and duty that is near otherworldly. Even the mother of the heir to the throne manages to manipulate the council of regents to do her bidding — without ever raising her voice or a powerful gesture. 

The verdict

Shogun is a wild ride, but not one that's undertaken easily. It takes work to watch this show, and you'll find yourself googling ideas, words, and history to help you understand everything that's happening. But it's worth it. 

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The Math

Baseline Score: 8/10

Bonuses: The period attention to detail is absolutely mesmerizing; Hiroyuki Sanada as Lord Toronaga's performance is stellar and will hopefully garner him an Emmy or Golden Globe nod; my favorite character, however, is Yabushiga and his grunts.

Penalties: It's a very complex show with many, many characters; some of my favorite action scenes are so darkly lit as to be near-unwatchable in the daytime.

POSTED BY: Haley Zapal, NoaF contributor and lawyer-turned-copywriter living in Atlanta, Georgia. A co-host of Hugo Award-winning podcast Hugo, Girl!, she posts on Instagram as @cestlahaley. She loves nautical fiction, growing corn and giving them pun names like Timothee Chalamaize, and thinking about fried chicken.

Review: The American Society of Magical Negroes

A poignant exploration of racism and appeasement wrapped in sarcastic, quirky, rom-com magic. 

A “magical negro” is a sarcastic artistic term used to describe an inspirational Black side character whose sole purpose is to inspire, comfort, and motivate the story’s protagonist. Although they frequently appear in speculative films and television, they don’t typically have actual magical powers. “Magical” is a sarcastic reference to their ability to help the (not-Black) protagonist find motivation to work through their emotional obstacles. It’s sort of like a mentor but often with more of a folksy / self-deprecating vibe. I won’t list specific films or shows but, if you think for a second, you can probably remember a few examples. The trope of the "magical" Black person is not bad per se, but it becomes exhausting when it’s repeatedly used, especially as a way to give lip service to diversity while keeping diverse characters in background roles and out of leading roles.

The American Society of Magical Negroes parodies this literary and film trope by creating an actual organization of people who problem solve anxiety-causing issues for white people in the real world. If you are expecting some kind of Black version of Hogwarts or Shadowhunter Academy, prepare to be disappointed. The film is a sarcastic deep dive into society’s underlying class systems. It’s much more of a companion film to social commentary stories like American Fiction and Origin than to fantasy pieces like Harry Potter or Shadowhunters. There is some magic on screen but not much. The fantastical moments are meant to be a brief, humorous backdrop, not a primary plot device.

In the film, Aren (Justice Smith) is an extremely polite, young Black man and a struggling visual artist. After a disappointing art show he encounters a drunk woman at night who hands him her purse, causing the woman’s two male friends to accuse Aren of stealing it. Aren is understandably fearful of what will happen next. A kindly older Black man, Roger (David Alan Grier), appears and magically transfers the purse back to the woman. Roger then engages in charming, folksy banter about the delicious food at a nearby restaurant. This de-escalates the situation and the two men who were previously threatening Aren become friendly and leave happily with the woman. Roger then invites Aren to join a society of people who use folksy banter make white people feel more comfortable, then they pivot to inspirational cliches to inspire them. By doing this they help make the world a safer place for people of color. According to Roger, without this surreptitious placating behavior, the violence against Black people will escalate in America.

Obviously there is a lot to unpack in this premise. Aren is led through secret door in an unassuming shop and finds himself in a meeting room of Black people who have been granted minor magical powers in exchange for taking on assignments to be supportive advisors to stressed, non-Black people. Aren has some understandable hesitation about the mission statement (and even the name) of the group but ultimately (due to his dwindling finances) accepts a job inspiring a self-absorbed young man, Jason (Drew Tarver), at a tech company. With Aren’s help, Jason progresses at the firm at the cost of Aren’s own career hopes and at the cost of Aren’s love interest Lizzie (An-Li Bogan). Introverted Aren initially enjoys the opportunity to be accepted in his new workplace and to help  Jason. But Aren grows to resent his artificially subservient role. Additionally, despite her superior work performance, Lizzie finds herself cut out of opportunities because Jason’s louder persona is confused with talent by their bosses. The story has some additional interesting context: Aren is biracial (partly white); Lizzie is a person of color; and, although Jason is self-absorbed, he is not a true villain. In addition to the scenes of Aren’s adventures, we also see snippets of the other Society members working in various timelines and locations, inspiring leading characters. Each scenario references a famous classic film with the “magical negro” trope.

As you can imagine, this film is not for everyone. The title may mislead some into thinking it’s a high fantasy—it’s not. Although the Society members can time travel, teleport, and blink objects into existence, magic is a minor part of the story. On the other hand, the interactions of Aren and Lizzie make the film feel substantially like a rom-com. But the trope of the misguided romantic triangle (between Jason, Lizzie, and Aren)  is not the true message. The real story is about race and classism (and later sexism). The theme of the supportive, inspiring colleague quickly shifts to the more troubling concept of appeasement by those in the minority towards those who are in power in society. These uncomfortable, underlying themes will resonate with anyone who has felt like an outsider in a space that should equally belong to them. After several mildly humorous and ironic moments, we have a climactic scene where Aren decides to tell Jason the truth about his feelings of fear and erasure. It’s not a universal monologue on all types of racism but rather a specific niche of oppression felt by some people of color in some societal spaces. It rages against both the appeaser and the oppressor.

The ultimate messaging is sharp and meaningful but it may get lost in the rom-com hijinks. Like The Book of Clarence, the story is weighed down by an overload of conflicting film elements. However, for those who can relate to Aren’s dilemma of standing up for himself in a society that will then see him as threatening or alien, the film will truly hit home. The American Society of Magical Negroes is a good companion piece for other recent films on race, such as American Fiction, Origin, and The Book of Clarence. For those who connect with the story, the film will provide a lot to ponder and hopefully create a starting point for meaningful discussions on Black roles in film and in real life.

 

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10

Highlights:

·         A poignant exploration of racism and appeasement

·         Conflicting thematic elements

·         Heavy, biting sarcasm that may elude some viewers

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.