Humans have become far too conditioned into the belief that cynicism equates to realism, that hope and kindness are inherent weaknesses, or "boring". As a result of this grotesque framework, a common held belief is born: power corrupts. It is difficult to challenge this notion because it has been so ingrained into the way we observe our world. It has become a foundational certainty. Although this idea has never sat right with me, recently it has become clear to me why: the theory that power corrupts implies that humans are inherently corrupt creatures. Under enough pressure, enough prodding, and enough nudging, it will reveal that underneath every one of our skins an unsightly evil lies beneath. It is the undeniable truth that humanity's capacity for evil is, in reality, far worse than anything that could be dreamt up in fiction. However, I do not merely question this proposition; I find it profoundly repulsive. Think about the people we most admire in our lives: a grandmother, a best friend, a father, a mother, a brother. Are we truly meant to accept that the people we look up to the most share the same vile core as humanity's greatest villains? That in the right environment, they will be no different? I find this to be a complete bastardization of the human character. In modern times, this abhorrent notion has been imposed more forcefully than ever. It is precisely at this juncture where our hero emerges as a complete refutation to these ideas, cynicism's antithetical kryptonite: enter Superman. The Blueprint to Heroism Superman is undeniably the most iconic superhero of all time, the first of what we define as a "superhero" today. Every superhero-adjacent concept was built on the scaffolding of Superman; his character has been etched into human culture like few others. Despite the grandiose CGI battles with oddly dark lighting and the universe-shattering stakes we associate with modern superhero culture, the birth of superheroes marked by Superman was one of humble beginnings. Superman may soar the skies and leap buildings with a single bound, but what defines him are his two feet firmly planted amongst the people. Our humble hero is less of a cop patrolling universes and busting up bad guys (although he does his fair share) but more of a firefighter and a champion of the people, helping cats out of trees, fixing buildings, and assisting the elderly across bustling roads. A small-town boy at heart, acting as the beating pulse to all that is good. Superman has always been hope personified. The Anti-Hero ior to James Gunn's 2025 Superman, the classic blue and red hero had largely faded out of public consciousness, mischaracterized beyond recognition amongst the masses. This perfectly serves as a reflection of society's shifting mindset towards what defines the human character. With the release of Christopher Nolan's smash hit success, 2005's Batman Begins, a notable metamorphosis began to take place. Prior to this, superhero media, in particular, superhero films, had established themselves in the eyes of the people as campy, bright-colored fun. Nolan shatters and remolds the superworld in his image: dark, gritty, and realistic. And with it, the emergence of one of the most oversaturated and misunderstood roles in history: the anti-hero. This role is defined by the moral line it sits along, a protagonist often with a lack of, or conflicting traits with, the traditional hero. The appeal of the caricature stems from moral ambiguity, an element of darkness that challenges the traditional hero role. The role of the anti-hero is not a new one, gaining prominence as far back as the 19th century along with the Romantic Movement. However, its oversaturation in popular media can be traced back to The Dark Knight trilogy. Studios and writers were quick to capitalize on its success, and the superhero genre was quickly flooded with these types of characters. The anti-hero caricature quickly appeared sloppy; the market was bombarded with characters that lacked any proper depth under the thin veil of the 'anti-hero' due to poorly written moral ambiguity. One of the biggest issues that arose from this was that characters with traditionally heroic roles had their personalities and behavior altered beyond recognition in order to fit the lines of the easily replicable anti-hero formula, most notably Superman under Zack Snyder's direction. Resulting in a much darker take on the character and a far cry from the figure people typically associate with Superman. Many fans of the superhero genre vocalized their dissatisfaction with the character, expressing that they believed Superman should not simply be a rehashed Batman (and a very mischaracterized Batman at that). People began to take notice that there were now more protagonists with undefined ethics and moral ambiguity than there were heroes. A large part of the appeal for anti-heroes is that they are different from the traditional hero, but when every character, including characters who previously hadn't, is suddenly an anti-hero, the appeal quickly loses its charm. When executed poorly, which it was more often than not, it starts to wear on the viewer and becomes cynical and crude just for the sake of cynicism. Studios often fail to realize that not all of the audience is blind to lazy writing. Superman was a difficult character for studios to tackle, as, at the time, Superman was widely regarded as a "boring" character. This was a direct result of a lack of understanding of the caped hero. He was reduced to a simple strongman juggernaut archetype, stripping him of all that makes him Superman and, therefore, a "boring" character. Superman is defined by his desire to protect others, his kindness, his grappling with what it means to be human, his burning passion for the belief that all life is sacred, and most importantly to the topic at hand today: kindness in the face of immeasurable power. What is "Human"? After two long decades, James Gunn's 2025 Superman breaks the tired formula we've been seeing since 2005, and the timing could not have been better. Bright colours, an uplifting message, and a humanist core. A breath of fresh air. Despite beatdown after beatdown, possibly the most we've ever seen Superman struggle on the big screen, his moral character reigns supreme. He acts as a complete refutation to the theory posed earlier – that power corrupts. Superman is one of the strongest characters in superhero history and certainly the most powerful character in the film by a margin. A minor deviation we see from typical superhero media, but not a first, Superman's parents send him to Earth in order to conquer the planet as a cruel dictator exercising his power over a biologically inferior race. However, even after his parents' intentions are revealed to him, his character doesn't waver in the slightest. Superman is able to remain strong in the face of adversity; his worldview is challenged not only by his opposition but also by his loved ones. He fails countlessly and gets up every time, and because of this, he succeeds. He is given every opportunity to fall into what proves to be the easier option: to give in to evil. But by denying this, he defines strength. Hope and kindness are traits that inherently require strength. On the opposite end of the spectrum, cynicism is inherently rooted in fragility and weakness. The reason cynicism is equated with reality is because it's the easier path; it's easier to throw in the towel than to fight on. Therefore, examples of those who fought on are deemed "unrealistic" out of jealousy of what could've been, out of disbelief that this could have been achieved had they not forged on. Cynicism is defined by weakness. This plays into another modern issue that has particularly affected our youth, the lack of role models who demonstrate true strength. The importance of positive role models is severely overlooked, now more than ever, with the most funnelled examples of strength and masculinity to the youth being superficial characters preying on the fragility of those without strength or, the often frequently sold alternative, rejecting strength entirely and embracing weakness. Now the question arises: the character of Superman himself is not human, so why should he be championed as the epitome of it? The answer lies in a quote from the film: “I’m as human as anyone. I love, I get scared. I wake up every morning and despite not knowing what to do, l put one foot in front of the other and I try to make the best choices I can. I screw up all the time, but that is being human. And that’s my greatest strength.” - Superman (Superman, 2025) Superman, although not human by biological composition, perfectly embodies the traits of the most humanistic human. Therefore I consider him human. Similarly, there are certain "people" from our own history and living amongst us now that are human by biological composition, however, I do not consider them human. They merely wear our skin and attempt to deceive us by appearing as us. Political Allegory Another demonstration of Superman's moral character against weakness thinly veiled as realism is the film's political commentary. Although James Gunn claims that the film was produced before the events of October 7th, which sparked a major escalation in the Israeli genocide of Palestinians and the destruction of Palestinian land under Israeli occupation, whether or not the film was a direct reference to this or not (although the occupation and genocide have been going on since the establishment of the Israeli state in 1948), it still serves as an incredible allegory for this atrocious affront to humanity and God. There are a number of parallels that can be drawn throughout the film. Jarhanpur (Palestine) is terrorized by the significantly more powerful Boravia. Jarhanpurian civilians, women, children, and the old are shown to be the victims of Boravian armed soldiers and armored vehicles, not supposed "Jarhanpurian terrorists." Jarhanpur is even heavily implied to be without a standing military, similar to Palestine. Lois Lane, Superman's lover, pressures and speaks to Superman off camera during an interview in order to censor him on his stance of an unjust one-sided attack. She claims that Jarhanpur has historically not been a friend of the United States, drawing obvious parallels to how various North African or Western Asian nations are frequently framed as "terrorists" that the United States must combat when the reality is very different. Superman counters this by stating regardless of whether or not Jarhanpur is a perfect nation, this does not justify another nation's right to invade it. Lois Lane then attempts to counter and justify Boravia's actions, asserting the Boravian government claims they are freeing Jarhanpurians, drawing parallels to how Israel's "official reasons" for the genocide of Palestinians are to "free them from Hamas" (although Israel's official reason changes however it is needed to frame their narrative). The "war" itself and its public presentation are entirely fabricated by powerful individuals in order to benefit themselves and partially used as a tool to profit weapons manufacturing corporations. The parallels are even further enunciated through the USA and Boravia's deep ties, the former calling the latter their ally, mirroring the United States often referring to Israel as their "greatest ally." The character of Vasil Ghurkos (played by Zlatko Burić), who dictates the fictional terrorist state of Boravia, and his similarities with Benjamin Netanyahu (whose original family name was Mileikowsky, only changing it after settling into Palestine) dictating the fictional terrorist nation of Israel. Later, the Boravian dictator can be seen calling for the murder of civilians in private. Superman even acknowledges this, correctly pointing out that Vasil Ghurkos was going to murder people; however, Lois reframes this into a political matter rather than a simplistic moral one. The reason that Superman's moral character is opposed to cynicism is demonstrated here because Superman establishes a firm stance on the side of Jarhanpur and takes direct action against the Boravian terrorists, much to the dismay of journalism outlets and the American government. In this situation, the easiest and the most encouraged thing to do is fence-sit. Fence sitting is rewarded because it is essentially siding with the perpetrators, as you bear witness to their action and take no counteraction. You become an associate in the crime. Instead of making a clear stance, fence-sitting typically results in virtue signaling, a superficial and hypocritical act that by definition is a conspicuous expression of moral value intended to project good character rather than to take effective action. It poses no challenge to the perpetrator; in fact, it benefits the perpetrator. Superman could have easily taken no stance, following the majority of celebrity figures in our reality, by reducing a matter of the most simplistic moral right or wrong to a complicated political matter. A commonly used argument for this is that reality is supposedly more "complicated," when it is often not the case. This is used as an excuse used by the weak in order to protect themselves. In the words of Malcolm X: "A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything" Superman demonstrates his strength by picking and taking action for a firm stance on a moral debacle. Just like blinkers to a horse, a well-conditioned person who refuses to see is an easy person to control. Truth, strength, and hope are the antithesis. Recall to a Romantic Notion In conclusion, Superman refutes the theory that power corrupts through his strength in his humanity. He presents the epitome of human character. As a recall to a romantic notion: we, as a collective, must revitalise our passion for humanity, our pride, and our faith in moral character. The strong must protect and uphold the weak until the weak become strong. I present a new nationalism, not one defined by the borders we have drawn across our globe but a belief in the collective nation of the human race.

Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider. Steve Rogers was exposed to a superhuman serum. Throughout the silver age of comic books, the values a character represented that made them appealing to wider masses was rooted in a clearly defined backstory. Thus began the inevitable question for writers; why be a hero? For obligation? For responsibility? For vengeance? During the early 1960s, comic books experienced a significant renaissance, fueled by the creative decisions conducted by head writer of Marvel comics Stan Lee. However, under the weight of constant output of serialised issues, originality began to fracture. The question of “why be a hero?” became increasingly complex to answer; how can one continue to inspire innovation through original motivations for comic book heroes when the demand for new heroes has never been higher? As the production of comics began to increase, Stan Lee found an answer to this age-old question; removing it entirely. The reason for being a hero was no longer tied to the acquisition of their superhuman abilities and instead, begged the question: What if superpowers had presented themselves since birth? Now, superpowers were no longer an event, or a speck in the timeline of their lives; it was their lives; it defined their destiny. In 1963, the brainchild of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby presented itself as the X-Men. Power no longer became inseparable from identity, thus the concept of “why be a hero?” became far more innovative through simplicity. The X-Men were created to avoid writing origin stories, yet they ended up telling one anyway. Around the time of their inception, the world was experiencing rapid, large-scale social change, particularly shaped by events such as the civil rights movement in America. The target audience of comic books tended to be adolescents, the same demographic which was the catalyst behind a lot of major cultural change, such as the Free Speech Movement and growing awareness of differences in sexuality. As a result, wider audiences began to have a growing interest in stories that reflected real tensions. The X-Men, unlike most superheroes at the time, represented marginalised groups in a way that had never been tackled before by Marvel. Contrary to the common trope of superheroes being adored by the public, the X-Men were feared and hated by the very people they swore to protect. Therefore, they provided a compelling parallel to the discrimination widely faced by people of colour, particularly resonating with black populations and the growing civil rights movement. The term “mutant” referred to those born with the genetic trait, dubbed the “X-Gene”. This was responsible for manifesting their unique abilities. This depicted mutants not as a cultural group, but as a separate biological category. This was further demonstrated by the scientific name Homo Superior, which presented them as the next step in evolution. The biological successor, and ultimately, the doom of humanity. This acted as the primary trigger that led to discrimination of their kind being institutionalised. Homo Sapiens feared what they could not comprehend; feared what was different from them. At the time, these themes provided major cultural insight and relevance, providing correspondence to the treatment that people of colour had endured for centuries. The suffering and violation of rights that the mutants experienced resonated with the struggles faced by black people, with early issues of the Uncanny X-Men line (#141-142). This was particularly evident with the Days of Future Past story arc, where it depicts a possible future where mutants were actively hunted and killed, with anti-mutant rhetoric being more prevalent than ever. Kirby and Lee portrayed the debut team for the X-Men as school-age teenagers, spearheaded by Professor Charles Xavier. Not only was he a mentor to teach them to hone their abilities, but a teacher for all mutants, having founded Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Part of the reason why this idea was so appealing to wider audiences was due to the emergence of the “teenager” as a concept. People in their teens began to rebel against the beliefs insinuated by the older generation and began to question widely-accepted values that enforced discrimination and inequality. Therefore, teens established a new culture centred around forming a society without marginalisation and conforming to discriminatory standards, which was looked down upon by the elders that lead the world. As a result, many teenagers who partook in protest were regarded as abnormal, and often scorned. Hence, the idea of a place for misfits and those shunned by society heavily resonated with adolescents. Furthermore, Xavier was frequently exhibited as an idealist, desiring a peaceful coexistence between humans and mutants, and was a strong advocate for integration; akin to that of the real leader of the civil rights movement, Martin Luther King, who advocated for the integration of black people with white society and believed in non-violent solutions to prejudice, much like what Xavier was portrayed as. In contrast, the primary nemesis of the X-Men, Magneto (Erik Lehnsherr), was presented as a moral contrast, providing the comparison of pragmatism versus Charles’s idealism. Magneto emphasised the belief that mutants are the next step in evolution and must actively fight against oppression, by any means necessary. Unlike Xavier’s passivity and desire for peace, Magneto believed in fighting preemptively. Additionally, his history as a Holocaust survivor provided a reason for his beliefs, as he had been someone marginalised not just for his abilities, but for his human identity. This provided somewhat of a parallel to Malcolm X, who similarly to Magneto, provided the ideological contrast to Martin Luther King in the civil rights movement. Malcolm X advocated for separation from white society and self-defence through violence and represented a side of the civil rights movement that were more radical. However, in a way, the creation of the X-Men acts as an intentionally unstable metaphor. The prejudice against mutants is somewhat presented as biological, not societal. Martin Luther King often preached about how racism is taught and never a part of one's being, an idea that was followed by many civil rights activists after his death. “No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate…” Nelson Mandela The representation of how humans fear mutants shifts bigotry from the rhetoric that “people are taught to hate” to an idea that people may instinctively fear what threatens them. The X-Men suggest prejudice is not always a moral failure, but can be rooted in a fear of genuine concern. This deviates from the real world, where marginalised groups are not inherently dangerous. However, some mutants within the Marvel universe absolutely are. These themes are explored and represented through Jean Grey, a prominent member of the X-Men who, during the Dark Phoenix Saga (Uncanny X-Men #101-108), gained immense cosmic power, becoming the Dark Phoenix and incinerating an entire star system; and Scarlet Witch, a villain-turned hero with extremely destructive reality-bending abilities through her knowledge of chaos magic. Despite her heroism, her emotional turmoil leads to her warping reality to create a mutant-dominated "utopia", where humans are minorities (House of M #1 - 6). Ultimately, despite the X-Men and the mutants acting as a parallel for real-world marginalised groups and presenting analogies for global minorities, it is intentionally an unstable metaphor as, while most X-Men stories want you to sympathize with mutants, some also suggest reasoning for why humans are afraid. The X-Men metaphor is deliberately imperfect and this provides nuance and more complexity to discrimination along with how mutants are perceived within the Marvel universe, rather than acting as a one to one analogy of racial bigotry. Therefore, due to the ambiguous nature of the metaphor, the X-Men have allowed audiences worldwide to project their own social anxieties and experiences onto the mutants, cementing themselves not only as cultural icons but also as symbols for real-world discrimination.

Avatar the Last Airbender is full of complex storylines, characters and lore. But one particular group is not addressed very often, frequently forgotten when it comes to the rest of the story. It’s not the animal hybrids, it’s not the different sub-genres of bending, and it’s not the great cabbage merchant man. Actually, it does relate to the cabbage man. The Non-Benders of Avatar the Last Airbender In a show all about a magical, unfamiliar power system revolving around the ability to manipulate the environment around you at will, it makes sense that the “regular” people are pushed to the side. But does this also apply to real life? Aside from Sokka and Suki (and, of course, the wonderful cabbage man), other non-benders are generally seen as weaker and less powerful than the bending characters. Only when the non-benders have some other impressive ability (e.g. Sokka’s intellect, Suki’s fighting abilities, and Tylee’s acrobatics) can those non-benders hold a candle towards the benders. If this seems familiar as a concept, it is- often the gifted get the most opportunity to shine, while the “regular” individuals are often ignored. This raises a few questions: “How, if at all, are non-benders accommodated or protected for their lack of abilities?” “Should the non-benders be ignored if they are simply not as useful as benders?” “What should be done about those who are, objectively, less useful in society?” The parallel between Avatar the Last Airbender’s non-benders to the common argument of meritocracy is clear: where those with power are the ones who have the most merit. On the surface, the entire system makes sense and seems flawless. Those who have the greatest ability are the ones who should lead since they are the most suited to lead. But what happens is the legitimisation of the absence of equality. Essentially, we don’t find it wrong or unjust that these objectively less talented individuals are pushed to the side while others get to shine. We are okay with the fact that, for example, Sokka is a supporting cast who only manages to rise up as a prominent member of Aang’s group because of his intellect and strategy. When it comes to fighting, Sokka has to sit back and let his bending friends do most of the work since, obviously, he cannot keep up with a barrage of water, earth, fire or air attacks with just a sword or (sadly) his boomerang. Thus, it starts to become clear how this mirrors society: those with innate, genetically inherited skills will often succeed more in life when they simply perform better than those who weren’t as “blessed”. Not only does Avatar normalise this inequality, they almost praise the greatness of these individuals with their supernatural abilities. This is similar to how academic “geniuses” and exceptionally athletic students will typically receive more university offers, more scholarships, and ultimately more opportunities to succeed and grow in life. Rarely do we ever see people praising the average or the mundane; only the amazing and out-of-the-ordinary really get our attention. Thus, they may not have access to the opportunities or help needed to protect themselves against those who are objectively more powerful than them. Question 1: “How, if at all, are non-benders accommodated or protected for their lack of abilities?” The thing is, the answer to this question seems to be that there is no explicit mechanism or international Avatar charter. What we do see is that non-benders with money or political influence, such as the Beifong family, have the means to protect themselves by employing benders as security guards. Essentially, the non-benders can’t protect themselves unless they get a bender to do it for them. Circumstances that cannot entirely be controlled have a large factor in determining the future of an individual. For instance, if the offspring of a wealthy family ends up average or even below average, then the child can still survive financially as they have their wealthy parents’ money to afford the child’s living expenses. Question 2: “What should be done about those who are, objectively, less useful in society?” This whole situation raises the question of which “direction” Avatar society should go. Should they make everyone a bender, or a non-bender? In regards to making everyone a bender, the genetics or the hereditary aspect of bending is beyond my scope of understanding. Fictional world science doesn’t seem to line up with real world science as even bending parents can create non-bending children (for instance, Aang and Katara’s children). The point of this article isn’t to try and crack the genetic code of Avatar, but it is worth noting the randomised aspect of ability. Bending itself is a trait that seems inherently random, and so is intelligence, athleticism, and merit. On the other hand, turning everyone into a non-bender is actually a point explored in the (honestly trash) Legend of Korra series with Amon and the equalizers. What ensued was not really an answer to the question of all benders or all non-benders, but an allegory to communism in the avatar world, and a dramatic plot point in the story. Regardless, it seems that nothing can be done about the randomised nature of gaining ability in both the Avatar world and in real life. But, should anything be done? I personally think otherwise; these differences are not inherently “bad”, and the scale of “usefulness” forces humans onto a dystopian scale of efficiency that turns us all into manufactured parts in a great factory. Plus, without non-benders in Avatar, how else will we have the great cabbage man? (Side note, if you want to explore a dystopian society that has selectively bred humans to be “perfect”, read Red Rising by Pierce Brown) Question 3: “Should the non-benders be ignored if they are simply not as useful as benders?” Ultimately, the flaws of meritocracy should still not be ignored in modern society; they should, at the very least, be understood and acknowledged by everyone. And what I urge everyone to do is to encourage people to take initiative over the things in life they can control. Although some people have life handed to them on a silver platter, it does not mean you cannot eventually get it by making it yourself. Anyone could be special; life is just a brutal free-for-all where everyone has to fight to be someone special. While attempting not to be cynical, it is inevitable that some people will get ignored due to the scarcity of attention, but those who start from the “bottom” as a non-bender, marginalized, or challenged can experience an even more awe-inspiring rise to greatness.

Preface It is impossible to distill ‘The Godfather’ down to a singular statement. An entire article even is not adequate to do this monumental film justice. What I can discuss, however, is the aspect of the film that stood out to me from the beginning: the gradual decay of Michael Corleone’s soul at the hands of the corruption around him. What is the American Dream? Though belief in said dream has waxed and waned through the years, its essence is simple: a person hailing from any nation or background has the capacity to fulfil their own desires and to make a living for themselves in the United States of America. This belief system has long been criticized with many deeming the sentiment to be naive. The United States is a country that, to many, represents a glimmer of light in the darkness, a country with nine-million square kilometers of land ranging from the barren desertscapes of the southwest to the snow-topped peaks of the rocky mountains. It is a land where, seemingly, anyone can thrive. This illusion, however, is thoroughly vanquished when you take the time to address all of the issues that have plagued American society since its inception. Across the nation’s history, immigrants have been abused by both society and law enforcement, Native Americans have been systematically wiped out and relegated to remote reservations, the Capitalist system has stunted the country’s ability to fully progress with innovation being driven by profit, and so on. We witness the effects and examples of this corruption on a daily basis, so we must take action to prevent the same from happening to ourselves. In September 1970, an up-and-coming Italian-American director named Francis Ford Coppola was offered by Paramount Pictures to direct his first major success – ‘The Godfather’. Coppola graduated from UCLA three years earlier and learned to navigate film sets through his work with Roger Corman and through his own indie films. He worked alongside the novel’s original author, Mario Puzo, to finish the script, keeping aspects of the book that he believed would translate well cinematically and disregarding those parts he deemed as less thematically relevant. After all, the novel was a work of pulp fiction. Despite this, Puzo and Coppola were certain that underneath the novel’s fluff, there was a riveting story to be extracted concerning Michael Corleone’s transformation from a marine to the Don of his family’s empire, ruling without his father’s warmth toward his friends and his family. Whilst telling this story, Coppola also highlights the hypocrisy of American institutions and how they fail to provide for those seeking paradise in America. — The film opens shrouded in darkness. Amerigo Bonasera’s face is in the dead-center of the screen. He tells Don Vito Corleone the story of how his daughter’s abusers had been released from court with their sentences suspended after he had reported to the police ‘like a good American’. This is a man who at one point believed in the romantic, idealized portrait of the United States that is so often sold to people. To naive Bonasera, America was a country that was supposed to provide justice to its people. Through his own experiences, this was proven false. The film’s stance on the matter, though, is not so black and white. Bonasera begins his narrative with how he was able to make a living for himself as an undertaker through America’s free-market Capitalist system. Thus, his experience as an immigrant highlights the ironic dichotomy of the American Dream: you are given the ability to make a life for yourself, but with the ever-lingering risk of being betrayed by the same forces that gave you life. In the end, Bonasera does not go to Vito because he respects him; he goes to Vito because he is in desperate need of Justice. Because the nation that he wished so badly to be assimilated into had proven that it did not care for him the way that he cared for it. Perhaps, though, Bonasera is still holding on to a lingering hope of redemption. After all, he does begin his monologue with the declaration of ‘I believe in America’. Does he still truly believe? Or are his words symptomatic of a man who is living in delusion who wants to believe once again? ‘You found paradise in America, had a good trade, made a good living, and there were courts of law. You didn’t need a friend like me.’ The Godfather shows self awareness in his conclusion. If the nation were as idealistic and free of corruption and injustice as Bonasera once believed, he would not exist and would be rendered obsolete. To him, he exists to provide to his people what America cannot. — In a sensational, career-defining performance, Al Pacino plays Michael Corleone who acts as the audience surrogate into the post-war era of the New York underworld. Due to the real-world gravity of the film’s themes concerning the disillusionment of the American Dream, his gradual fall from grace is tragic not only on an emotional level but also on a philosophical one. ‘That's my family Kay; it’s not me’ This is the sentiment Michael holds and shares with his then girlfriend, Kay, at his sister’s wedding after detailing to her the story of his father and Hollywood superstar Johnny Fontane. More specifically, how his father arranged for the termination of Fontane’s contract between himself and a certain bandleader by ‘making an offer he couldn’t refuse’. This sentiment is vital as it marks the starting point of Michael Corleone’s character arc across the film. Michael is a man who, despite being born into one of the five New York crime families, wishes to stay true to the pure and just America he believes in. After all, he did walk into the party alongside his non-Italian girlfriend wearing a dark-green military uniform plastered with badges, in order to convey to the guests of the party (and, more importantly, his family) his own desire to differentiate himself from the people he grew up with. As the film progresses, however, Michael is slowly drawn further and further into the family's business due to forces out of his control, becoming disillusioned with his prior beliefs. He is exposed to a New York underworld teeming with greedy leaders, pulling the strings of people in legal positions of power. He is abused by crooked cops willing to turn a blind eye to any illegal doings. He is faced with the immense violence that befalls his family in the name of business. ‘It’s not personal, Sonny. It’s strictly business.’ Throughout the film, we are constantly reminded that the heinous actions of these gangsters are driven not by personal motives but instead by financial gain. Essentially, these carefully-coordinated power plays, these elaborate assassinations, these extensive deals between the families all play out as a result of unrestrained capitalism, which is what the film argues to be the main contributing factor plaguing the idealized American Dream. Visually, this idea is demonstrated through, Director of Photography, Gordon Willis’ sublime use of harsh overhead lighting, obscuring the eyes of anyone in frame -- cold, impersonal. These effects are also demonstrated through the manipulation and corruption of those who are in supposed legitimate positions of power (i.e. Captain McClusky who is bought out by Solozzo and paid to turn a blind eye to the attempted assassination of Vito). Also mentioned are the politicians that The Godfather holds ‘in his pocket’, once again showcasing the ease at which those who are ostensibly safeguarding the nation can be bastardized in a society where economic growth is the driving force. Michael Corleone breaks down any and all of his own barriers between himself and the family business when he kills both Virgil Solozzo and McClusky in a small restaurant tucked away in the Bronx. This results in his two-year-long exile in Sicily, where he patiently awaits his return to New York under the oversight of his father’s friend Don Tammasino. There, he falls in love with Appolonia, a young woman from the town of Corleone, and they eventually get married. What his exile to the Mediterranean represents on a thematic level is a chance to escape the depravity of existence in America. In Corleone, life moves slowly and it appears as if Michael can almost be happy. This entire sequence is carefully engineered to evoke a sense of nostalgia from the viewer, regardless of whether one has been to Italy. At this point, Gordon Willis’ cinematography takes a massive departure from the underexposed images of New York, instead, favoring these spectacular wide-shots of the Sicilian landscape, flooded with warm sepia tones – akin to how he shot the opening wedding sequence. It is also the first instance in the film where Nino Rota’s iconic theme plays. Him and Coppola decided here to use the music Rota had debuted in a film released fourteen years prior called ‘La Fortunella’, believing that it would be effective in imbuing this part of Michael Corleone’s journey with a sense of wistfulness and sentimentality. This geographical repositioning provides Michael with a period to reflect. Perhaps he can escape the cycle of violence he has found himself entrenched in for the purpose of, instead, leading a life more simple and true; a life where he is not blind to the forces of American capitalism surrounding him, plaguing himself and his family. Before he can make a decision, his wife is killed. An explosive rigged in Michael’s car by one of his bodyguards who was bought out by the Barzini family back in New York. The debauchery he had almost escaped had caught up to him seven-thousand kilometers away. With no other choice, he returns to his family compound in Long Island. There, his disillusionment with the United States is fully solidified upon his reuniting with Kay. He shares with her his belief that his family, it turns out, is not so different from other more ‘legitimate’ institutions. A belief that had slowly formed during the film's events, replacing his former delusions of what America really was. ‘You know how naive you sound? Senators and presidents don’t have people killed!’ ‘Who's being naive, Kay?’ Politicians are those people looking over public administration, dealing with foreign diplomacy, handling national budgets, and so on. At one point in time, these were the figureheads that the people of the United States looked up to. The people that the youth aspired to succeed. This was the case prior to (approximately) the early seventies, when public consensus on the reliability of politicians to look out for the nation’s best interests dramatically adjusted. Incidents like Richard Nixon’s infamous Watergate scandal contributed to this changing sentiment. The crime itself and his cabinet’s attempts to cover it up absolutely baffled and disgusted the public. It was not a coincidence that The Godfather was released during this period of re-evaluation. Michael Corleone’s belief that even politicians have the capacity to be self-serving (at the cost of those they are meant to be safeguarding) reflected the suspicions of the era. Suspicions that continue to the present day, with public outrage over the Trump Administration’s own abuse of power in his attempts to undermine institutions which have forever served as pinnacles of western democracy. But, in the end, it is also a false equivalence between politics as usual and outright murder and thuggery, showcasing the new Don’s ignorance to the man he has become. The transformation that Michael Corleone undergoes in ‘The Godfather’ is bittersweet. Though we are aware that he has betrayed the worldview he once believed in, succumbing to the corruption so apparent around him, we as the audience do still feel a sense of triumph. After all, by the end of the film, Michael has secured his family’s position at the apex of the underworld, planning out the assassinations of all the parties out to get him in the absolutely iconic ‘Baptism of Fire’ sequence. Ultimately, Michael is trapped in a hell of his own creation. He is the head of an empire that he will fail to oversee without alienating those around him and further dissociating with his past self. Also, the seeds of the further tragedy that will ensue in ‘The Godfather: Part II’ have already been planted. Corleone’s knowledge was enough to distort his character and his worldview, but we must fight to prevent our society from succumbing to the same fate. Coppola urges us, first, to look outward in order to reflect on the corruption that runs so rampant in the world. And, second, to look inward to see just how much said corruption affects our souls.

Ted Lasso Apple TV’s Ted Lasso was released in late 2020, during the height of the global COVID-19 pandemic. The spread of the virus throughout the world radically changed how society interacted with each other, and accelerated the growth and evolution of internet culture into a more connected, more “native” environment. The post-COVID era has been characterized by the rise of previously obscure, shunned subcultures integrating themselves into the mainstream. The online space is now populated with “cottagecore”, “trad-wife”, “gymbro”, the manosphere, and AI “slop”. These terms would have been foreign to the average internet user as late as 2019. In a world now saturated with artificially created content and millions of influencers, it is no surprise that the state of our general mental health has never been worse. We can no longer avoid our phones and devices, as they are crucial tools needed for mass communication, information, and work. This chains our attentions to the constant harmful rhetoric, and an overall sense of dread spouted from little pixels. It was to my surprise that Ted Lasso, a show that sprouted from a funny NBC skit depicting a Texas-accented American football coach leading a cohort of association football players, turned out to be a sensational hit. To the naked eye, “Marlboro Man” may seem a painfully idiotic personality. Ted Lasso, in the technical sense, is not exactly a good coach. He does not spend much of his time drafting up plays, giving tips, and stalking the opposition. In fact, he seems to do the opposite. Much of Ted’s on-screen presence revolves around him having conversations and building relationships. On his first day as head coach, Ted veers from the traditional style of stomping his feet and announcing his expectations. He silently and respectfully observes the pitch, the locker room, and the underlying dynamics and tensions in Richmond FC and its players. Early on, the tension between team captain Roy Kent and star player Jamie Tart is apparent, resulting in frequent stare-downs and fights in the locker room. Ted Lasso tries to resolve the issue by nudging Roy to take his leadership roles more seriously, and to take a stand when Jamie harasses and bullies his teammates. Throughout the show, Ted remains the problem solver for the cast of vividly written characters, but he too has skeletons in his closet. As an adolescent, Ted endured the suicide of his father. In the episode “No Weddings and a Funeral”, Rebbeca’s (Richmond F.C.'s owner) father passed away due to natural causes, prompting a funeral where Ted had to deliver a speech. The imagery and symbols at the funeral reminded him of his father and the traumatic incident. Ted wrestled against a panic attack and later grappled with his fears with the team sports psychologist. This was a turning point - Ted previously showed his disapproval of therapy, as he believed that those who profit from suffering people are not truly altruistic. He has since changed his beliefs. Lasso is not nice just for the sake of it, but rather because he feels an unfulfilled burden to not let anyone “quit” at life like his father did. What can be most respected about this series is the deliberate choice to delay the full unraveling of Ted’s character. At first, he is presented as an idealistic coach who happens to be American. It is later revealed that he is a layered, developed individual. Ted has fears. He has flaws, and he has things to improve on. He’s human. Demonstrating that his strongest perk, kindness, is also his weakness. Yet, Ted Lasso represents a rare worldview that the world needs more of. His unapologetic brand of unconditional kindness and empathy revives the love and fascination for the infinite possibilities we once had before exams, deadlines, and projects consumed every corner of our lives. Maybe it is because Lasso has a background in collegiate athletics that he realizes that not everything is about winning. His fundamental value of placing the human before the victory spawned one of his most famous quotes, “Be a goldfish.” This outrageous advice can be perceived as extremely negative and degrading. Human beings are conscious individuals - reverting back into the mindset of a species that cannot think for itself, and must rely on its primal instincts to survive, is not suitable in the real world. Yet, is this really true? Lasso uses the goldfish to remind one of the players to forget mistakes, but it can also be interpreted as a metaphor for the beauty of letting go and the gifts of forgiveness. A goldfish continues swimming, not because it chooses to, but because it must - all it has known is swimming, and to divert from this path would be unthinkable. Lasso believes that, as we are indentured to a forward movement in time, with no chance to fix our mistakes and change the consequences inflicted, deciding to believe in the goodness of others, and to treat their mistakes as elements of the past, is the only way to create internal happiness and a cohesive community. The “imprisonment” of the goldfish and the overarching themes of cyclicality and repetition draw a direct comparison to Albert Camus’ “The Myth of Sisyphus”, in which he explores the meaning of the world and what humans can do to create meaning. Sisyphus appears in many myths, but the most famous one includes him being punished to roll a boulder up a mountain for an eternity. Sisyphus, Camus argues, is an allegory of the ultimate meaninglessness of the lived experience. In the scientific sense, humans and all living beings are biological machines that possess no souls and no qualities that can be attributed to “value” in traditional cultures. There is no such thing as becoming a wandering spirit or entity after death. This viewpoint splits from the traditional approach to assigning value and meaning. Developing societies often base their philosophies and approaches to life on religious lore and principles that depend on the establishment of a supreme being or supernatural entities that create stories and a “greater meaning” of existence. In this world, life may amount to nothing after a few billion years, but Camus believed there is no need to prove that anything has any importance in the grand scheme of time. So, what if the universe ends? The present still exists - the systems and beliefs we hold dear are still here. We will not bear witness to the death of this world, so there is no need to plan for the funeral. Although Ted does not have to be nice, he still chose to be a warming presence not just in Richmond, but to the wider world. Ultimately, we see Ted’s beliefs manifest in his actions. He cares for his son, even moving back to the United States at the end of the series to be closer to him. Ted tries to be a therapist (ironically enough) for the team therapist, and treats everyone, even Nate the kit-man, with respect for a king.

Frankenstein “I am obscene to you, but to myself I simply am.” This line from Guillermo del Toro’s recent adaptation of the book Frankenstein comes from the mouth of a deformed and monstrous creature. We humans experience this feeling of dislocation, too. We participate in activities others find strange. We wear clothes that others find unfashionable. We say things that make others cringe. Everyone has their own standards for what these words “unfashionable,” “strange,” and “cringe” mean and when these judgments become a social consensus, we are silently measured against them. What is obscene to one person is normal to another. Del Toro’s line isn’t describing the imperfections of the creature but rather critiquing those who look down upon him. Frankenstein is a novel about an ambitious scientist, Dr. Victor Frankenstein, who devotes his existence to crafting and bringing to life a human being. Horrified by the result, the doctor casts away the creature, deeming him a wretch. Lonely and dejected, the creature gradually becomes villainous and violent. He eventually murders Frankenstein’s niece and frames a servant for his crime. He goes on to kill the doctor’s wife and best friend. The novel, written in 1818 by Mary Shelley, offers a powerful commentary on the making of a villain. Criminals are not just born evil; they can also be constructed by society. A school bully is not a criminal, at least not yet. But, as Frankenstein demonstrates, we intrinsically feel the need for a scapegoat. Someone needs to be blamed. Students with problems at home can take it out on kids at school, just as those who are bullied can then transfer their feelings of resentment back to their families. In Frankenstein, many people show prejudice toward the creature, but his feelings of hatred are mostly directed toward one man: his creator. The creature sees his own existence as the cause of his suffering and, because Frankenstein made that life, he directs his resentment toward the doctor. Yet the creature still finds some joy in living. He describes how he felt the cheering warmth of summer, the rustling of the leaves and the warbling of the birds. So can the creature really attribute his unhappiness solely to his existence instead of the prejudices he faces in society? And should Frankenstein really be the recipient of the creature's revenge? He is just like that bully who ruins another kid's school life because he cannot deal with the real problem at home. The bully and the creature may be responsible for their actions, but they are not responsible for the circumstances that shaped them. The creature from Frankenstein is born into a society where his looks doom him. Society determined his unfair treatment before he even took his first breath. His murders in Frankenstein’s orbit may seem like the first times he makes his own choices. Revenge might seem to empower him but his innate powerlessness ends up distorting where the blame is actually due. The school bully may be the same. He may feel helpless at home, without the authority to dictate his circumstances and, in turn, his happiness. He searches for a sense of control and sadly finds it in tormenting another kid. Blame is not only misplaced in the criminal but also in the punisher. Society discriminates against those who are different. We hold people to unrealistic beauty standards for example. We create false hierarchies based on physical characteristics. The creature directs his anger toward Frankenstein, just as society directs its fear toward the creature. Wherever the creature travels, he is detested for his appearance. Society rejects those who don’t fit the standard and then punishes those same people when they rebel. Punishment itself may be morally shallow if it ignores causation. If there is only punishment with no understanding, that would be a cruel and blind society. But only understanding without punishment is no solution either. Frankenstein shows that the creature, born of society’s rejection, is not the monster; the monster is us.