Are They Autistic?, Autism, Reviews

Are They Autistic? – Renee (Pixar’s Loop)

Hello everybody, this is George Harvey (aka The Autistic Blogger). Welcome to another instalment of Are They Autistic?: the series where I look at characters from various forms of media and analyse whether I think they’re on the spectrum or not.

Today I decided to try something a little bit different. Instead of a character from a book or TV series, I’ll be analysing one from a short film. Specifically: Renee from Disney Pixar’s Loop (2020). Also, my reasons for choosing her are somewhat different too. Usually, when selecting characters for this series, I prefer those who haven’t been confirmed to be Autistic. The reason is it gives me more leeway to observe their behaviours and make assessments of my own. In Renee’s case, she is confirmed to have Autism. But it’s not the kind I usually analyse. Let me explain.

What’s important to remember about Autism is that it’s not one condition but several neurological ones acting together. Also, these combinations affect different people to varying degrees. Hence why there’s a spectrum. True, there are minor cases where a person only has repetitive behaviours or learning difficulties. Or milder cases (like mine) where it’s hard to process information and socialise. But then there are higher forms. In these cases, people struggle to develop basic motor skills where even speech is difficult. I may not have this form myself. But I have witnessed firsthand how severe it can be when visiting special needs schools. It gave me a newfound appreciation for the personal carers who’re committed to helping such people.

Going back to Renee, she’s advertised as a non-verbal Autistic character. I was keen to see how well-handled her condition would be in this short. After all, it’s one thing to claim a character is highly Autistic; it’s another to portray them as such – there have been misinterpretations before. That being said, I was confident in the studio behind this story. Why? Because it’s Pixar. Yes, the company responsible for innovating mainstream computer animation has also produced multiple short films over the years. Whether it’s their classics like Luxo Jr. (1986), award-winners like Bao (2018), or visual masterpieces like Piper (2016), they always make sure to research the subject thoroughly before putting pen to paper. With this in mind, I knew they wouldn’t take a topic like Autism lightly. So let’s take a look.

As the short begins, we’re immediately introduced to Renee. She’s sitting in a canoe at a campground, listening to a ringtone on her phone. Other kids have already gone paddling ahead, but Renee is too fixated on playing the sound over and over again.

Within the first 30 seconds, the animation establishes a common Autistic trait. When you’re on the spectrum, it’s easy to focus on just one thing rather than everything around you – it’s less stressful that way. As an audience, we can see the other kids paddling away in the distance. But when looking through Renee’s eyes, they’re almost out of focus. All that’s clear to her is the phone and the sound it makes. There are other indications of her condition, as well. She doesn’t look at people when they approach her; she retracts if they get too close and makes loud groans to show her displeasure. Even her facial expressions are realistic, with her glassy eyes and limp smile. Director Erica Milsom knew she had to get Renee’s character across to the audience quickly. And with everything that’s presented visually, it’s clear Renee is Autistic without anyone needing to say it.

However, the short isn’t really about discovering Renee’s condition. Instead, it wants to teach viewers about its effects and how best to interact with someone who has it. To do this, they pair Renee with someone who’s her opposite.

Back on the riverbank, a boy named Marcus arrives. He’s running late and eager to catch up. But the camp counsellor asks him to go with Renee today. He’s somewhat reluctant at first because of her reputation, but the counsellor assures him she likes canoeing too. He also gives Renee some reassurance before pushing them off.

Two things are highlighted in this scene for me. First off, Marcus probably doesn’t know about Renee’s Autism. The way he describes her as “that girl who doesn’t talk” is evidence of this. As such, the audience identifies with him as someone who’s learning about the condition for the first time – maybe like they are. The other point is with the camp councillor. He’s actively trying to encourage better interactions among his campers. It’s mentioned, for example, that he usually goes with Renee in the canoe – implying the other kids keep their distance. However, he knows that’s not the way forward. Although he’s aware putting her with someone else will make her uneasy – because making the slightest change to an Autistic person’s routine can do that – he wants to ease her out of her comfort zone. That way, she’ll be more willing to try new experiences. He also wants Marcus to get along with different kinds of people. It’s a learning experience for both kids.

Out on the lake, things are challenging for Marcus and Renee. At first, Marcus tries speaking to her like any other teenager. But he quickly realises that’s not going to work. She’s too focused on something ahead, keeps listening to her ringtone and doesn’t take notice of him. But it’s not because she’s ignoring him; it’s how her mind processes what’s around her.

As I alluded to before, there are times when we’re shown Renee’s point of view directly through her eyes. Whenever that happens, almost everything we see becomes light and blurry. It emphasises how Renee struggles to focus on anything that isn’t at the centre of her attention. She prefers to concentrate on things she’s familiar with and for everything else to be quiet. 

That being said, there are also moments when she’s overly sensitive to her surroundings. For example, as Marcus tries speaking again, his voice sounds like a distant echo to Renee. She’s still fixated on something else, so his words aren’t processed very well. Meanwhile, sounds such as Marcus knocking his paddle or sniffing are magnified in volume. To almost any other person, these sounds would barely register. But for Renee, they’re so sudden and unexpected that it shocks her attention to them. It’s usually louder and scarier noises that set her off.

I can think of one other time I’ve seen something that displays an Autistic person’s perspective so efficiently. Several years ago, I attended an Autism Awareness convention in London. While there, a tech company showed me a video program they’d made on a virtual reality headset. Watching the video, you’re looking through the eyes of a boy who’s at a regular shopping centre with his mum. The mother tells you to wait while she does something at a counter. There’s nothing unusual about that. But then things start to happen around you. Footsteps, ringing mobiles, people talking; all these everyday sounds are made much louder in the video, and you can even see the vibrations emanating off them. Eventually, you’re being overwhelmed by so many sounds you can’t help looking around at where they’re all coming from. By this point, the mother has returned and is trying to ask you what’s wrong. But you barely notice her because you’re still trying to locate all the sounds. Soon it becomes too much to bear, and the footage blacks out. For anyone who’s not highly Autistic, this video shows exactly what kind of stress those people experience almost every day.

Now, to be clear, although Renee finds it hard to process what people say, that doesn’t mean she can’t understand them at all. She does, for example, register when Marcus asks her what she wants to do. It seems she wants to tell him something but can’t express it in words. So instead, she looks around, groaning and breathing heavily, as if trying to find some other way of letting him know.

Assuming Renee can’t think of anything, Marcus decides they’ll do a quick paddle around and then get her back to camp. She seems fine with what he says at first. But then he starts talking too fast and spinning the canoe in a circle. The movement freaks her out, and she begins physically rocking the boat from side to side – almost tipping them over. Marcus understands and stops to try and calm Renee down. He suggests taking her back to camp. But that only sets her off rocking the canoe again. It’s not what she wants. 

As the scene progresses, we can see Marcus is getting more frustrated. It’s understandable why. He has no idea how Renee will react to anything he says or does, and it might end up being dangerous. Even so, he manages to stay calm and asks her what she wants again. Once more, his voice sounds like an echo to Renee. She doesn’t even look at him when he speaks because she’s anticipating another noise to happen somewhere. She does, however, pick up on something he says: if she wants to do something specific, she’s got to help him out.

That’s when Renee gets an idea. She shows Marcus a ‘poop’ emoji on her phone. He’s confused at first, but then he notices some portable outhouses on a nearby riverbank. Renee somewhat gestures at them too, and he realises that’s where she wants to head. Smiling, he begins slowly paddling over.

I want to say, at this point, how much I admire the short for highlighting technology as a means of communication; many video programs and applications are being made nowadays to help Autistic people develop life skills. Going back to the time I visited a special needs school, there was a boy there who was just as non-verbal as Renee. To help him communicate, the care workers gave him an iPad with an application that spoke simple sentences. All he had to do was remember the right combination of buttons they’d taught him, and he could let them know how he was feeling or what he wanted at any given time. It was a simple repetitive action that helped make all the difference.

Repetitiveness is also shown in Renee. As she and Marcus approach the riverbank, they pass by some water reeds. Renee reaches out because she likes how they feel on her skin. It’s then Marcus realises she never wanted to use the restrooms at all. Renee only wanted to go through the reeds and used the emoji to clue him in on the direction. After passing through them several times, Renee starts listening to her ringtone over and over again. Seeing how much she enjoys it, Marcus has an idea. 

It’s clear by now the ringtone is a source of comfort for Renee. Unlike many other sounds, it’s one she has control over and likes hearing. It’s similar to me in a way. When working on long articles like this one, I sometimes have to stop for a few minutes and watch short videos online. It gives me a brief moment of entertainment, so I’m not overwhelmed by the workload and can reset my focus. Other people listen to music or play games for similar results. Everyone needs something they’re familiar with to guide them along.

Marcus paddles the canoe inside a large sewer pipe. The confined space echoes the sound of Renee’s ringtone, which seems to please her. Marcus admits he likes it in there, too: “[it’s] a good place to be when there’s too much other stuff happening out there.” 

So perhaps Marcus does understand Renee a little. This dialogue implies he knows what it’s like to be overwhelmed by problems in the outside world. He thinks it might be an idea if they stay there a while, so Renee doesn’t have to deal with sensory overload.

Suddenly there’s a problem. Renee hears the sound of a speedboat approaching outside. Terrified of the monstrous noise being amplified within the pipe, she frantically paddles for the exit. Marcus doesn’t seem to understand and tries fighting against it. He steers them clear of the oncoming boat, but the force of his paddling knocks them both ashore with the canoe. He demands to know why Renee did that. But Renee has gone into a complete meltdown. She cries out in fear and rage, refuses to let Marcus touch her, and even throws her phone in the water by accident. She then hides under the canoe, still crying and trying to block out everything around her.

I respect the short for not shying away from this drama; sometimes, no matter how cautious you are, an Autistic person will have emotional breakdowns. And they will be challenging to deal with because you don’t know how that person will act in their state. However, when they do occur, it’s essential to stay calm and work out the cause of stress so you can put them at ease.

Marcus immediately realises his mistake. But rather than do anything that might worsen the situation, he leaves Renee to calm down. A long time passes, and she still hasn’t come out. So he sits down to talk to her. He admits that she’s an “intense” person to deal with at times. But he “messed up” by shouting at her. He doesn’t always know what to do – not like their councillor – but he understands he needs to be patient. 

I love how Marcus is honest in this scene; of course, he wouldn’t know what to do in this situation; it’s a first-time experience for him. And someone like Renee would intimidate him at first; he isn’t familiar with how her condition makes her behave. But the experience is meant to be a realistic one for the audience. It’s something they can learn from along with Marcus. 

Eventually, Renee comes out and plays with the water reed that Marcus left her. Marcus copies the sound of her ringtone, and she repeats it back to him. It’s then that she finally looks at him and gives him a half-smile. With everything calm now, and the sun beginning to set, they both get back in the canoe and paddle towards camp. In a post-credits scene, it’s revealed they’ve stayed in contact and occasionally go canoeing together still.

And that’s Disney Pixar’s Loop. In summary, it does an excellent job of representing non-verbal Autistic people. Not to mention what first interactions with them could be like for others. The plot may not have much of a set-up, and the ending is a little ambiguous. But Renee’s condition is always at the forefront of the story. Whether it’s her facial expressions, her unique point of view or her emotional outbursts, the animators did everything they could to make sure Renee was portrayed accurately – which isn’t surprising considering they consulted the Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN). Even if I went into this not knowing about Renee’s condition, it would still be clear to me that she’s on the spectrum.

So yes, it goes without saying that I believe Renee is highly Autistic. However, I also can’t stress how appealing this 8-minute short is. My descriptions don’t even begin to do it justice. So, if you have Disney+ and ever get a spare moment, definitely watch it for yourselves. You might find it teaches empathy in ways you never could’ve imagined.

That’s all I have to say. If you have any questions, please leave me a comment below. And, until next time, stay tuned.

PS. I am still recovering from having Covid 19, but I think I’m past the worst of it. Also, I’d like to give a special thank you to Wendy Jones. She commented on my last post and asked if I’d like my blog to be included on her list of resources, which she provides to parents to help share Autism with their children. I’m always happy to share my work with others.

Image courtesy of: https://thewaltdisneycompany.com/pixar-sparkshort-loop-promotes-autism-acceptance-celebrates-difference-and-helps-inspire-change/

Anime Reviews, Are They Autistic?, Autism

Are They Autistic? – Haruhi (The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya) – Part 2

(Continued from Part 1: Are They Autistic? – Haruhi (The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya) – Part 1 | The Autistic Blogger (wordpress.com))

Going back to the first (chronological) episode, Haruhi is frustrated at the school not having any exciting clubs. That’s when Kyon speaks up. He tells her people who aren’t satisfied with what they have usually invented things. For example, planes, cars and trains, were created by people who wanted to fly or get to places faster. What they have today wouldn’t exist if people hadn’t used their talents or imaginations to fulfil their desires. His speech unintentionally gives Haruhi the idea to start a club herself. She’s so enthusiastic that she pulls Kyon from his desk and exclaims about it to him – not realising they’re still in the middle of class. I should mention as well this is the first time we’ve seen Haruhi smiling. Before now, she’s always had a bored, pouty expression on her face, as if frustrated at the world. Like with Maud Pie (Friendship is Magic), you know you’ve done something special if you’ve made Haruhi smile.

After class, Haruhi wants Kyon to help her make her club. She’ll find a room and members while he handles the paperwork. The problem is there are rules to starting an extracurricular group. The club must have at least five members, a supervising teacher, a name, a person in charge, and a purpose for the organisation. Haruhi doesn’t even know what her club will be yet. So Kyon can’t explain to the school board how it’ll benefit the student body. 

To tell the truth, I’ve never been thrilled about documents or paperwork either. I know filling them out is essential. But it’s a lot of information to take in. Plus, my Autism doesn’t make processing it any easier. I’d much rather have someone else handle these tedious parts, so I can focus on what comes afterwards. Maybe that’s Haruhi’s mindset as well.

Despite her lack of forethought, Haruhi does manage to find a room. It belongs to the literary club, but its senior members have all graduated. The only person left is a freshman named Yuki Nagato. And since she can’t maintain the club herself, it’ll soon be disbanded. Nonetheless, Haruhi lets Yuki stay as part of their club since she only wants a place to read. She doesn’t even mind if she will have to leave eventually.

On a side note, I have to mention Yuki’s demeanour. She’s a quiet and unemotional person. At one point, Kyon asks her about the book she’s reading. But she only shows him the front cover and doesn’t say much about whether she likes it. Actually, she barely responds to anything at all. It got me thinking that maybe she was Autistic, too. After all, her habit of quietly reading was what I did all the time in my later years at secondary school. Unfortunately, though, my assumption was false. Yuki isn’t emotionally detached because she’s on the spectrum. It’s because (unlike Haruhi) she isn’t human. She’s a robot. Specifically, an alien robot who’s been sent to observe Haruhi because a higher intergalactic entity believes she’s the key to human evolution – I told you this series gets complicated.

Another member Haruhi finds is Mikuru Asahina, a timid girl who’s dragged to the clubroom against her will. While “walk[ing] every inch of the main building“, Haruhi sometimes encounters Mikuru. She wants her to join because she’s a cutie, has big breasts and is a total moe. Supposedly, all stories with strange things going on have a moe character; “someone with glasses, or in a maid costume, or anything fetishy.” So basically, she wants Mikuru to be the club’s mascot.

Two things Haruhi said resonated with me here. The first is what she mentions doing at break times. When I was younger, I never had anyone to talk to or play with on the playground; I just preferred my own company. I’d spend my free time wandering around, letting my imagination entertain me. We know Haruhi isn’t usually one to sit and talk to people either. So it makes sense she’d do something similar. The second point is her grounds for recruiting Mikuru. It’s alluded to several times in the series, but Haruhi often views her classmates as objects rather than people. That’s why she’s so unfeeling towards them. She doesn’t care who Mikuru is or what she wants. All that matters is what she looks like and how that conforms to a role Haruhi wants fulfilling. She’s trying to make her club the most ideal it can be, based on her interests.

On another side note, Mikuru seemingly joins because she’s pressured into it. However, there’s a second reason. It’s revealed later on she’s a time-traveller who’s also observing Haruhi. And yes, in case you’re wondering, an esper turns up too; he’s a transfer student named Itsuki Koizumi – Haruhi recruits him because he’s mysterious. Ironically enough, when Haruhi reveals the purpose of her club, which she calls the SOS Brigade, one of its objectives is to find aliens, time-travellers and espers. She never works out that these people are right there in her clubroom.

I’ve now covered the entire first (chronological) episode. I could end off right here. But to fully understand Haruhi’s character, I need to discuss a few more episodes. 

First of all, remember what I said about Haruhi being viewed as a model pupil? Well, the keyword in that sentence is “viewed“. Although she’s smart, multi-talented, and does well to represent the Autistic spectrum, she, unfortunately, isn’t a good role model. Why? Because of her personality. You might’ve noticed it already, but Haruhi can be very stubborn at times. She’s the type of person who has to have everything done her way and doesn’t like being told no. If things don’t go according to her plan, something can flare inside her. For Autistic people, like me, sometimes we get overly stressed, angry or depressed. For Haruhi, she can be all of that. Plus, give up on reality and unknowingly use her powers to destroy the world while creating a new one – I’m getting side-tracked again. The point is, once she sets her mind on something, she’ll do anything and everything to make it happen. This attitude not only makes her frustrating at times, but it’s lead to some very unlawful behaviour. A good example is the second (chronological) episode.

Haruhi wants to get a computer for her clubroom, so she goes to the computer club. When the club members protest, she makes it look like their president sexually assaulted Mikuru by taking a forged photograph. She then threatens to show the school board unless they fork over their latest model. She even blackmails them into setting it up while Kyon designs the SOS Brigade’s website. If you think that’s bad, she’s even more of a bully to Mikuru. 

It should be evident that miss Asahina is extremely sensitive. She’s easily reduced to tears and can’t speak up for herself. Despite that, though, Haruhi puts her through all kinds of traumatising experiences. For example, she has her wear many embarrassing outfits; a maid costume, a cheerleading uniform, a bunny girl suit, etc. Haruhi sometimes wears these clothes herself. But she’s insistent on Mikuru dressing this way – even if it means forcibly stripping her! To make matters worse, she takes humiliating pictures of Mikuru and considers posting them online to get her website more views. Oh, and did I mention there’s also an episode where Haruhi drugs her?!

It’s times like these when the series is lucky to have Kyon around. Haruhi doesn’t always listen to him. But he’s able to talk her out of more serious situations. Itsuki believes it’s because they share a bond neither of them cares to admit. I, personally, think there’s some truth to that. Keep in mind, Kyon was the first person Haruhi felt confident speaking to at North High. She might not show it so well (given her Autism), but she does appreciate his company. It’s why she at least considers listening to his suggestions. Kyon also helps with improving her attitude. Although Haruhi never drops her bossy persona entirely, she does gradually start treating others better. One episode highlighting this takes place during the school’s cultural festival.

While handing out fliers, Haruhi notices two girls arguing with the festival operations committee. Their band can’t perform because two of their members had to pull out with tonsillitis and injury. Worse still, this was going to be their last performance together. Since Haruhi has experience being part of the school’s rock club for a while, she offers to fill in as lead singer and guitarist. Amazingly, despite having only an hour to prepare, she gives a near-perfect performance, which leaves everybody stunned – including Kyon. What I love most about this moment, though, is Haruhi isn’t her narcissistic self. She makes it clear she’s only filling in and asks the audience to buy copies of the original songs with the actual music and vocals. She wants to make sure the right people get the recognition. It’s a selfless act on her part, but the episode delves further into her character.

Later on, the band members come to thank Haruhi for saving their festival memories. However, she feels awkward talking to them. So she insists that Kyon stands with her. I like this detail because it shows she still has social problems and needs somebody she trusts to help her. Kyon also realises Haruhi isn’t used to being appreciated by others. 

Later still, it’s revealed Haruhi hated her near-perfect performance because they had to simplify the songs. If she’d had one more day of practice, she feels she could’ve nailed it. So it seems Haruhi is a perfectionist, too – something I know all too well when it comes to writing.

At this point, I’ve covered nearly everything the series has to offer about Haruhi. However, there is one more aspect that defines her having Autism. It’s not one specific episode but a whole collection of them. It’s now time I talk about this anime’s most infamous story arc: The Endless Eight.

Beginning with season two’s second episode: the SOS Brigade is shown enjoying their last two weeks of summer vacation. They go to a public swimming pool, see some fireworks, play a few sports, and do all sorts of fun things together. However, something is off in the next episode. The characters are shown doing the same things again. All that’s different are some minor dialogue changes and one additional scene. Then the next episode is the same. And then the next, and the next, and the next. It turns out this is Haruhi’s doing. She has a subconscious desire for summer never to end. As such, she’s unknowingly used her powers to create an infinite time loop. Kyon and the others can’t escape it, and everyone has their memories reset each time. Also, this problem isn’t resolved in just a few episodes. It takes place over eight of them. Do you know what that means? People had to watch practically the same episode for eight consecutive weeks! 

As you can imagine, no one was happy with this stunt. In fact, the studio had to make a public apology for it. That being said, I think the arc is a brilliant reflection of having Autism. Let me explain.

We all know changes in life can be difficult. It would be so much easier to enjoy only the finer things it offers. Inevitably, though, we have to work our way through some challenging new experiences. These experiences are especially tough on people with Autism. We’re so used to routines and doing things a certain way that it’s how we make sense of the world. If that familiarity suddenly goes away, it can be scary and distressing. Haruhi doesn’t know if she can face another school term. So she keeps willing her summer to continue. It’s moments like this when she once again needs the help of her Brigade. 

Do you know how Kyon ends the time loop? He suggests everyone does their summer homework together. I’m not kidding. He realises Haruhi has never had this experience before. She’s so intelligent she usually finishes it quickly and alone. It’s a chance for her to bond with the SOS Brigade and create a unique summer memory. Haruhi acts like she’s sour about it, but she’s secretly grateful. And after sitting in on the study group, she’s finally satisfied with her summer vacation and has the strength to move on.

So yes, The Endless Eight is a tedious arc. I, honestly, think its message could’ve been delivered in just three or four episodes. However, with everything it emphasises, I have to admire its repetitive nature. Besides, compared to how many times I read and review my writing – there’s no comparison.

With that said, I’m glad to say we’ve finished my analogy. I’m sorry this ended up being longer than expected. It’s the first time I’ve reviewed the main character of a series. In case it’s not obvious, I do believe Haruhi is Autistic. She might not have learning difficulties or frequent social anxieties, but the similarities between her and myself are uncanny. The repetitive behaviour, the eccentricity, the occasional stubbornness, it’s all here. I will admit she’s not the most likeable character ever. Especially when she’s a whiny brat, acts like a bully or does something illegal. But I can’t say she’s hateable – just misguided. As I said, I’ve made many of the same social mistakes she has. Plus, she does have redeeming qualities and tries to be a better person. Sometimes that’s all that matters.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this instalment of Are They Autistic? If you have any ideas for characters you’d like to see reviewed in this series, please let me know in the comments below. Until next time, stay tuned.

Image courtesy of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya – Anime Review | Nefarious Reviews

Anime Reviews, Reviews, The Promised Neverland

The Promised Neverland Review

Before you ask: no, this series has nothing to do with Peter Pan or anything J. M. Barrie-related. The closest comparison you can make is both stories heavily feature children, and that’s all. As for how it relates to any bible tales – I’ll talk about that when I get to it. There isn’t too much that ties in.

Every once in a while, there comes along an anime which gets everyone’s attention. Opinions may vary, but there’s no denying the incredible success it has. The manga sells like wildfire, YouTubers react to the whole series, and you even get live-action adaptions made in both Japan and other countries. There have been many mainstream animes like this in recent years: Death NoteAttack on Titan and Sword Art Online, to name a few. But then there was 2019. And everyone agreed the masterpiece of that year was The Promised Neverland. Initially released as a manga in Weekly Shounen Jump, the anime adaption became highly praised within the otaku community. It won two Crunchyroll Awards in 2020 and is widely considered one of the best animes of the 2010s. How did it earn that moniker? Let’s take a look.

Before we start, I should warn you: the first episode contains a major plot-twist. It’s one of the highlights of the series if you don’t know what’s coming. So if you’d rather not be spoiled, I’d recommend at least watching episode 1 before you continue. If you’ve already seen it – or you don’t care that much – I’ll carry on.

In the year 2045, three bright young kids: Emma, Norman and Ray, grow up in the Grace Field Orphanage – alongside 35 other siblings. For the children living there, Grace Field is a paradise. They have warm beds, delicious food, a loving caretaker who acts as their mother. And aside from the occasional schooling, they’re free to roam the big forest and fields and play to their hearts’ content. Putting it simply: their lives couldn’t be happier. However, nothing is as it seems. One night when one of the younger girls is adopted, Emma and Norman realise she left her toy bunny behind. They go to the gate to try and return it. Only to discover the horrifying truth. The outside world is full of demons! Giant, hideous, flesh-eating monsters. Worst still, their orphanage is no orphanage. It’s a farm! Kids who’re adopted get slaughtered and sold as human meat! And it’s their mother, Isabella, who’s selling them off. Desperate not to lose any more family, Emma and Norman join forces with Ray. Now they have to come up with a plan to escape with their siblings before the next shipment.

As you probably guessed, the big plot-twist is the revelation of the demons. What makes it so shocking is how utterly unexpected it is. Nothing ever hints at their existence. The opening credits don’t show them; the promotional trailers don’t reference them; not even the DVD/Blu-Ray case implies anything – unless you notice it says horror next to the rating. Another reason it works so well is how it drastically alters the episode’s tone. Beforehand, everything we see shows the kids living happy, joyous lives. It tricks us into a false sense of security, making us feel as they do. There are some hints that something more is going on – most noticeably the ID numbers on the kids’ necks. But until we see the first victim’s corpse, nothing prepares us for the horrors to come. The fact they kill off Conny – the sweetest most innocent girl – shows us they’re not messing around. The Promised Neverland is a dark fantasy.

Perhaps more impactful than the twist, though, is what it represents: a loss of innocence. These kids have spent their whole lives in a safe, warm environment where nothing can hurt them. They’re ignorant of the outside world, believing it’s a place where they can live out their hopes and dreams – a promised land if you will. However, nothing is ever so simple. As you get older, you realise how dangerously unforgiving life is if you’re not prepared for it. In the case of these children, their fantasies are slaughtered the moment they step outside. It’s even worse for Emma. After witnessing Conny’s death, her child-like spirit is broken. She tries denying what she saw; desperate to believe her siblings aren’t dead and her mom isn’t evil. But as reality sets in, she’s overwhelmed by grief – letting out a horrifying scream. From then on, she has to be the grown-up; forcing herself to smile and be brave for her siblings. Emma can never go back to those blissful days – no matter how much she wants to.

Do you know what’s impressive? Everything I’ve brought up so far only takes place in the first episode. The rest of the series is just as mindblowing. There are cliffhangers, red herrings, moments of pure joy or hopelessness, and a whole abundance of information. The more that’s revealed, the more you want to rewatch the series to pick up on everything it foreshadows. The episodes know how to keep their audience engaged. Especially with their characters.

Firstly there’s Emma, an amply optimistic girl who’s the most physically-skilled of the kids. Before discovering the truth, she was the life and soul at Grace Field; caring for the little ones and playing in a lively manner. She loves her family and can’t bear the thought of anyone dying. Additionally, she’s a fast learner and adapts quickly to situations. She even comes up with ideas to rival her friends’ intellect. What I love most about Emma, though, is her diversity. She’s mature for her age but still has vulnerable moments. She tries to stay positive but will occasionally cry. And although she gets along with most people, she can show aggression or hatred towards them. Emma is a multilayered individual – which is what I admire in a female lead.

You also have Ray, the strategist of the group who tends to think more rationally. Although he has a somewhat distant nature, it’s evident he’s been friends with Emma and Norman for years. He’s on board with helping them escape, but he tends to clash with some of their ideas. Particularly, Emma’s insistence on saving everyone. He knows the more kids who try to run, the harder it’ll be. Plus, they have to consider how they’ll all survive once they’re free. It’s not that he’s selfish. He’s just considerate of his best friends – they mean the world to him. I could elaborate more on Ray’s character, but that would be going into spoiler territory. Instead, I’ll say we never learn his full story until the very end.

Then you have Norman, who’s arguably the smartest of the three. He comes up with most of the escape plans and knows what to do if things go wrong. He even outwits Emma and Ray sometimes. Furthermore, he’s the middle ground between them. He loves his siblings as much as Emma, but he understands Ray’s point about there being too many. Regardless, he often takes Emma’s side. Partly because she’s morally correct, and partly because he has feeling for her. It’s her determination that keeps him going most of the time.

In summary, Emma, Ray and Norman are very close, very intellectual characters. You could argue they seem too smart for 11-year-olds. But it’s established early on why that is. Plus, their loyalty and friendship are what makes them so believable. Together, they’re a formidable threat to their enemy. And who is their enemy? The one they thought cared about them for years – the mother of Grace Field: Isabella.

What makes Isabella so intimidating is she appears so trustworthy. On the surface, she’s a soft-spoken, affectionate young lady, who loves all the Grace Field kids as if they were her own. But behind her warm smile lies something sinister: a cunning, manipulative woman who cares only about profit. Everything she does is to ensure her kids grow up healthy and happy, with rich and developed brains. That way they’ll be tastier for her masters. She may claim to love her children. But when it comes time for shipping, they’re nothing but products.

This kind of emotional detachment brings something to mind. Think about how we run our farms today. We do our best to make sure all animals are treated humanely; giving them free-range, plenty of food and a life without suffering. Yet we still cage and slaughter them. And all because we’re the dominant species and like the taste of their meat. Is this honestly much different from Isabella? Could there be a social commentary here about animal cruelty? I digress.

It doesn’t take Isabella long to realise somebody knows the secret. So she implants new measures to keep things under control. These include hiring an assistant (Sister Krone) and revealing to the kids (indirectly) they have trackers. Her actions cause Emma and the others to rethink their plans and ask questions. What’s the best time to escape? How do they deal with the extra security? Should they tell the other kids what’s happening? Would they believe them? What if one of them is a spy? How do they work out who it is? It becomes like a mental game of chess, with both sides vying to outwit their opponent. On top of that are some of the characters’ more drastic actions. I won’t reveal anything here, but it’s honestly shocking to see just how far they’re willing to go to succeed – even if it’s inhuman.

Now, at this point, you may be wondering about the other Grace Field kids. Unfortunately, they don’t feature very much. Not that we don’t see them all the time. It’s just they don’t have any influence on the main plot. They’re mostly just there to remind us how grand the scale of escape is. There are, however, two notable exceptions.

Partway through the series, Emma and her friends recruit Don and Gilda (two ten-year-olds) into their plans. Don is a headstrong boy, who’s somewhat impulsive. And Gilda is a sensitive girl, who helps with the little ones. What’s significant about their involvement is how it changes the others’ mentality. You see, initially, Emma, Ray and Norman don’t reveal the whole truth to them. Instead, they claim their siblings were sold through human trafficking. They know Don and Gilda have emotional weaknesses. So they stay quiet about the demons. However, the two find out they’ve been lied to – which leads to friction within the group. It’s groundbreaking because it shows how Emma and the others had little faith in their siblings. They need to start seeing them as allies rather than burdens.

Another game-changing character is Sister Krone. Before anything else, I have to address the elephant in the room. There are going to be people who find this character offensive. Why? Because of her design. She’s a dark-skinned, big-lipped woman, who’s always wearing an apron. Plus, she cares for mostly white-skinned children. Does that sound familiar? If not, I’ll tell you: she’s reminiscent of the now-racist mammy stereotype. What makes it worse is how she’s portrayed. Aside from being borderline crazy, she pulls countless disturbing faces, is shown to be monstrously violent – though never towards anyone – and occasionally invites children into her room. She is not the sort of person you’d want working in an orphanage.

Controversy aside, though, Krone brings an essential dynamic to the series: her ego. It’s quickly established she has a tense relationship with Isabella. She hates her belittling and wants to replace her as the mother of Grace Field. Krone will do anything for the position, even if it means allying herself with the kids. Emma and the others don’t trust her, of course. But they know she’s a valuable source of information. At the same time, Krone believes they could provide the evidence she needs to bring Isabella down. All three parties have powerful yet understanding motives. And it’s a testament to this series how well it manages them.

However, The Promised Neverland isn’t just written well. It’s also visually stunning. I don’t usually mention the animation in my reviews. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t give CloverWorks credit. They take every opportunity they can to showcase their abilities. Not everything comes out perfect; there are some lacklustre character designs and meme-worthy faces. However, for the most part, they know how to present things both creatively and symbolically. Let me give you some examples.

First of all, there’s the layout. Usually, everything is presented in the traditional format: 2D characters in a 2D environment. However, once in a while, the background switches to 3D, giving us more depth and scale to the scene. They’re also not afraid to experiment with the camera. Sometimes it swings back and forth, like a pendulum. Other times it rotates 360 degrees. And sometimes it gives us POV shots or follows along with the characters. Each time it’s meant to draw attention to someone’s feelings and build tension.

The camera also works in symbolic ways. Remember what I said about foreshadowing? The earliest example of this is in episode 1. The opening shot shows a young Emma looking through some bars, saying she’s “never been outside” – it’s the first indication she’s actually inside a cage. Another example is episode 6: several shots are made to look like somebody is spying on the kids – which it’s later revealed there is. It’s even debatable if the series has religious symbolism. All the kids wear pure white clothing, except for when they’re adopted – the black outfit they dawn could symbolise death. And when it comes to the actual escape plan, the parallels with the Book of Exodus are uncanny. There’s so much to take from these episodes if you know where to look.

In conclusion, The Promised Neverland is a suspenseful, well-crafted series, that keeps its audience on edge. With its three-dimensional characters, creative animation, and a plot that knows when to give or hold back information, it’s easy to see why it rose to prominence. I don’t say this a lot, but I would honestly recommend this series to anyone who’s old enough to watch it. Even if you’re not a big fan of anime, chances are you’ll be drawn in by the story and characters. How do I know? Because I did a test before writing this review. I showed the first episode to my dad and step-mom – two people who were notorious for disliking anime. And what happened? They were so captivated by what they saw, they insisted on watching the rest of the series with me. If that doesn’t prove how grand The Promised Neverland is, I don’t know what will.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this review. Be sure to check out the series for yourself. And I hope you’ll look forward to the second season. Stay tuned.

(Image courtesy of: Hello! Never met a Somali who watches anything other than mainstream anime, are any of you avid Anime fans? : XSomalian (reddit.com))

Are They Autistic?, Autism

Are They Autistic? – The Bookworm (Batman)

Hello everybody, this is George Harvey (aka The Autistic Blogger). Welcome to another instalment of Are They Autistic? – the series where I look at characters from various forms of media and analyse whether I think they’re on the spectrum or not. It doesn’t matter if they’ve never been confirmed to have Autism; as long as they show similar traits, I’ll be talking about them. Please remember these are only my personal opinions. If you think somebody you know has the condition, it’s always best to consult a professional. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece.

***

Today we’ll be analysing a character you’ve probably never heard of before. Even if you’re a die-hard Batman fan, chances are you don’t remember this villain. He only made one notable TV appearance and a handful of cameos across other Batman media. That appearance was in the 1960s Batman series (starring Adam West), and his name was the Bookworm.

Played by Roddy McDowall, what stood out to me about Bookworm was the way his mind functioned. There have been more entertaining villains than him on the show – like my personal favourite: Frank Gorshin’s the Riddler. However, this character struck me as someone abnormally obsessed with his interests. He doesn’t just love books; they’re practically his whole life. They inspire everything he says and does. He can even quote lines from a particular piece and tell you exactly which chapter and passage they’re from – he has that strong of a memory.

In a way, it’s similar to me. When I see or hear something I enjoy, I make a mental note of it. I can then playback the memory of it with almost pinpoint accuracy. My earliest recollection of doing this was during primary school. There was a story I heard so often I could retell it, word for word, without even needing the book. I can’t do it now, but other memories have stuck with me for years – if you’ve read Into My Autistic Mind you know what I mean.

For the longest time, I assumed Bookworm’s obsessive memory was evidence that he was Autistic. However, now I’m not so sure. There are similarities between myself and Bookworm – evilness not being one of them – but does that mean he has Autism? That’s what we’re here to find out. So let’s review his two-parter: “The Bookworm Turns” / “While Gotham City Burns” (1966).

***

The story begins with the opening of a new bridge in Gotham City. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson (Batman and Robin) are watching the event on TV, when Dick suddenly notices someone in the crowd: a man wearing large, goggle-like spectacles; a brown leather coat, and a hat with a lamp attached – the Bookworm. Soon after, the villain orders his minions to “begin Chapter One“, and Police Commissioner Gordon is seemingly shot dead off the bridge. Horrified, Bruce and Dick immediately jump into action as Batman and Robin. 

Driving to the police station, however, everyone is relieved to discover that Commissioner Gordon is alive. He wasn’t even at the ceremony. Hilariously, one of his officers had fined him for over-parking, and he was late. Or so it seemed. It turns out, not only was there a fake commissioner at the bridge, the parking officer was an imposter too. It was all so Bookworm could lure Batman to the police station and plant a bomb in the Batmobile. Additionally, the commissioner’s parking ticket reads “A.S. Scarlett, Badge #1887” – a reference to “A Study In Scarlett” (the first Sherlock Holmes novel) published in 1887.

In these first few scenes, Bookworm’s obsessions are on full display. Like most Batman villains, his crimes and antics are based around his gimmick; in this case, books. He describes part of his plan as “Plot A“, the bomb he uses is disguised as a book, and even his henchmen have literary-based names: Pressman, Printer’s Devil, Typesetter and Lydia Limpet. However, there’s more to him than his theming – as we soon learn.

Batman is alerted to the bomb in the Batmobile and ejects it before detonation. He and Robin investigate the crime scene, only finding the charred remains of the book and its title: For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Earnest Hemmingway. At this point, Batman reveals another side of their foe’s mentality. 

You see (much like the Riddler) Bookworm leaves clues for Batman and Robin, to see if they can work out his next move. While this might seem foolish, it actually ties into a philosophy several Batman villains have. It’s not enough to defeat the caped crusader. They want to out-wit him too. Batman is one of the most renowned detectives on the planet. So if they come up with a scheme not even he can deduce, it’ll prove once and for all they’re his intellectual superior. Besides that, if he does work it out, it’s still a chance to lure him into a trap. I’ll admit, sometimes I like to show off in this way too. I love giving people conundrums to see if they can work out the answers to things I’ve cleverly learned. It’s a little shameless, but I accept it.

After concluding Bookworm’s plan might be to blow up a bridge – since that’s the plot of For Whom the Bell Tolls – Batman and Robin race off to their next location. We then transition to what might be the most memorable scene of the story for me. It’s here we learn the extent of Bookworm’s knowledge and the price he has to pay for it. 

In the villain’s hideout, Bookworm marvels at his collection of books. He loves the ideas they contain, the wisdom they provide; how each one is perfectly structured to relay a mountain of knowledge from the great minds who wrote them. He’s spent a lifetime memorising their plots and using them as his greatest weapon. Unfortunately, it’s also his greatest curse. When Lydia asks Bookworm why he doesn’t write a best-seller of his own, he suddenly becomes furious. The sad truth is, he can’t come up with anything original. He’s so engrossed in the works of others that he’d just be copying their ideas. That’s why his schemes are plot-based. He couldn’t make a plan of his own if he wanted to. 

Hearing this for the first time, I couldn’t help drawing comparisons with myself. Being an inspiring writer, I know the challenge of coming up with original ideas. Inevitably, you start looking at other people’s work for inspiration. But sometimes you take so much you end up plagiarising. It happened so often when I was asked to write an original story, only to copy characters and plots from elsewhere. It certainly shakes your confidence somewhat, knowing you might only be good at retelling stories.

To quickly summarise the next several scenes. Bookworm manages to calm himself by reading an entire book (The Secret of Success: Self Control) in a matter of seconds. Batman and Robin arrive at their next location, but discover Bookworm has already “blown up” a bridge; he’s projected the enlarged image of one on the side of a building. The Dynamic Duo climb higher to get a better view of their surroundings – meeting Jerry Lewis along the way – before encountering Bookworm’s henchmen. After defeating them in a fight, they receive information from Lydia Limpet. However, Batman is curious about something. Robin is left to guard her, but she tricks him into opening a book filled with knockout gas: The History of the English Language – a book that would put anyone to sleep. Bookworm’s henchmen tie Robin to the clapper of a bell just as it’s about to strike midnight. Fortunately, Batman realises he’s been misled. Along with Police Chief O’Hara, they reach the clock tower (Big Benjamin) and use some elaborate science to save Robin. Our heroes then regroup in the Batcave.

I should point out at this stage that Batman’s original series was more family-friendly than its later interpretations. The lighthearted tone could even be described as “campy” at times. For example, Batman employs a pick-up service for the sole purpose of collecting discarded parachutes – which he uses in Bat-U-turns. When he and Robin climb the side of the building, he reminds his sidekick to keep “both hands on the bat-rope“. And, just before they fight Bookworm’s henchmen, he insists the minions remove their glasses first – he would never hit a man with glasses. 

Speaking of which, I always loved the fight scenes on this show. Not only did they capture the spirit of the comics with their onomatopoeia (words on screen), but something about them felt strangely realistic to me. You could tell they were all choreographed. However, the action felt so spontaneous it was like the actors were improvising as they went. The directors must’ve been very skilled to make everything look seamless.

Anyway, back onto Bookworm, I was surprised to find little else to analyse about him. At least, in regards to him potentially being Autistic. He didn’t have any social or communication problems, and none of his quirks seemed ritualistic, i.e. when your mind is conditioned to make you do something a certain elaborate way. The only exception I could find was in the latter half of the story. Let me explain.

First, Bookworm enters Wayne Manor pretending to be a book salesman. He uses another knockout book (The Congressional Record March 1919) on Alfred Pennyworth and Harriet Cooper – the butler and Dick’s aunt respectively – allowing him to steal a rare text from Bruce’s collection. However, that’s not enough. He then places a giant cookbook (The Delight of Cooking) in the middle of a street, luring in Batman and Robin. It’s here Batman reveals another of Bookworm’s mindsets: his over-plotting. Either the robbery or the enlarged book would’ve gotten their attention. However, Bookworm insists on creating as big a scene as possible – much like he did with the faked assassination and “blown up” bridge.

The reason I bring all this up is that, once again, I feel Bookworm’s actions relate to me in some way. When I write, I often go overboard with what I’m describing. Sometimes I mention things that perhaps don’t need mentioning or I explain them in extensive detail. It’s hard to remember that quantity doesn’t always equal quality. But I’m so used to seeing it from other people that I’m conditioned to think that it is. Bookworm is the same. He believes the stages of his plan should be big and bold because it’s how he’s seen them in his books. It doesn’t matter if there’s a better solution or if they don’t tie into his main plot.

To finish off the story: Bookworm traps Batman and Robin inside the large cookbook, where another deathtrap awaits. He also steals the Batmobile, hoping to use its gadgets for a grand heist. Fortunately, Batman and Robin escape (thanks to some more elaborate science) and apprehend Bookworm and his henchmen. Later on, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are in Commissioner Gordan’s office, with Bruce donating money to the prison library. Bookworm is brought in just before he’s incarcerated and quotes: “They who lose today may win tomorrow.” He believes he’s quoting a poet. However, Bruce points out it’s actually from a book. He even tells Bookworm the part and the chapter. The episode ends with Bookworm wondering if Bruce Wayne is as obnoxious as Batman.

And that’s Bookworm’s two-part story. A typical set of episodes, encompassing everything the series was known for; lighthearted action, campy moral lessons, and a guest villain putting in their best performance. Roddy McDowall did a fine job.

However, I’m sure many of you are still wondering. Do I think Bookworm is Autistic? Well, as much as I’d like to think so, the argument for it isn’t very strong. Keep in mind, these episodes were written in the 60s. It was a different time back then, and Autism was nowhere near as well-known as it is now. It’d be nice to think the writer (Rik Vollaerts) had some knowledge of the condition. However, if he did, it’s not well-presented. There’s no social awkwardness in Bookworm, no learning difficulties or specific quirks. And although there are similarities between myself and him, there could be other explanations for it. For example, Bookworm’s extensive knowledge could be because he has a photographic memory. You also don’t need Autism to be abnormally obsessed with something. I had high hopes for this character when I first saw him. However, given the lack of decisive evidence, I’ve had to conclude that Bookworm isn’t Autistic. Maybe it’s still possible he is, but I can’t say for sure.

That’s all I have for this instalment. I hope you enjoyed it and I hope to bring you more in the future. Before I finish up, though, I have a special request. I’ve been writing this blog for more than five years now, and its viewership has grown immensely throughout 2020. To show my appreciation for this, I want to try something I’ve never done before: take audience requests. At the moment, I have a couple more characters lined up for this series. However, I’d like to hear your ideas too. If there’s a particular character you’ve seen or read about, and you’d like me to review whether they’re on the spectrum or not, leave me a comment about them down below. I’ll do my research and try to bring you an instalment on them in the future. Again, I’m not looking for any characters who’s Autism has already been confirmed. But instead, those you think may have it because of certain traits. I look forward to hearing your recommendations. Until then, stay tuned.

If you like my content be sure to check out my second blog site Autistic Blogger Creates (https://autisticbloggercreates.wordpress.com/blog-2/) and it’s latest posts.

Experimenting with Scriptwriting – https://autisticbloggercreates.wordpress.com/2020/09/03/experimenting-with-scriptwriting-the-nutcracker/

The Nutcracker Panto Script Extract – https://autisticbloggercreates.wordpress.com/2020/09/03/the-nutcracker-panto-script-extract/

(Image courtesy of: https://comicvine.gamespot.com/batman-326-minerva-mayhem-and-millionaires/4070-13966/)

Anime Reviews, Reviews

Wolf Children Review

A lot of people ask me why I love anime. Is it their high-quality animation. Their action sequences. The fact they come up with ideas most western studios rarely try? Well, I’d be lying if I said those weren’t contributing factors. But there is another reason. And that’s their art for storytelling. You see, in my opinion, some of the best-told stories aren’t those that focus primarily on fantasy. But rather use fantasy elements to enhance real-world scenarios. Spirited Away, for example, is about a young girl who grows in maturity to save her parents. Setting it in the real world might’ve conveyed this message fine. But there wouldn’t have been anything universally memorable about it. Incorporating the spirit world, with its bizarre and deadly creatures, better presents her fear of the unknown and what she ultimately overcomes. Additionally, the animation provides character designs, facial expressions and overall appeal that isn’t achievable with live-action or CGI – compare Disney’s live-action remakes to their counterparts for instance. Other movies use fantasised realism too; Kiki’s Delivery Service, My Neighbour Totoro, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time. And then there’s this story. Out of all the anime I’ve seen, Wolf Children arguably perfects this style the most. How exactly? Let’s start with the plot.

It’s the story of Hana, a college student who falls in love with a mysterious man in her lecture hall. This man, it turns out, is a half-wolf creature, and he’s been living a life of solitude because of what he is. Regardless Hana still cares for him, and it’s not long before they start a family together. But when tragedy strikes, leaving her single, she discovers their children (Yuki and Ame) have inherited their father’s wolf-genes. Now she has to raise them alone while protecting their secret from prying eyes.

As you can tell, the heart of this story comes from family struggles. The movie highlights different stages of the characters’ lives and what they overcome for a safer living. If you’re a parent yourself – or even a growing child – then you can easily relate to these. However, it’s the fantasy aspects which exemplify them to a broader audience. Let me explain.

First of all, I have to praise the movie for setting the right tone early on. It emphasises realism by showing us who these characters are and what lives they lead beforehand. Hana is a university student with a part-time job and an optimistic personality. She also lives alone and is very self-sufficient. Her partner-to-be, meanwhile, seems less fortunate. He mentions just wanting to belong somewhere and works a mediocre job delivering furniture. However, he dreams about the future and proves to have a caring heart despite his distant nature. For any young adults, they can immediately see themselves in these characters. They’re both grounded in reality with nothing about them even hinting at fantasy – save one opening line. And then the man reveals his secret.

I have to say; this scene is very well-executed. Not only do we feel the characters’ emotional turmoil, but it’s something every real couple has to go through. At this point, we know the man has been hiding something. He wants to tell Hana the truth but is terrified of losing her. And why shouldn’t he be? In real life, this could be someone revealing they have a disability or criminal record: something that might discourage their partner from wanting to see them again. Yet they have to, or they’ll eventually learn the hard way. The man wants to avoid this, but Hana goes to extreme lengths to prove her devotion. After which, he stops distancing himself. And when he reveals his wolf-form, she is scared at first – naturally so. But it’s the aftermath that counts. Hana doesn’t care what her partner is. All that matters is ‘who’ he is: the same loving, kind-hearted man who would do anything for her. And it’s this love that sees her through the shock, allowing her to start a new life with him. Their relationship might seem forced or cliched at times, but it’s a beautiful story of true love and acceptance.

And that’s only the first 10mins!

Fantasised realism continues when its just Hana and her kids. No longer is she a self-sufficient college student, but a full-time mom on the verge of collapse. We do see the joys Yuki and Ame bring to her life, but it’s clear she struggles to raise them – especially as they keep switching between humans and wolves. If that wasn’t enough, Hana endures many terrible hardships; her neighbours are aggressive, social workers suspect her of neglect, her landlord threatens to evict her. And that’s on top of everything she’s given up: her job, education and her health. But the worst part is, she has no one to turn to for help. She can’t even take her children to a doctor in case they find out their secret. It starts to feel like the whole world is watching, and her kids are in constant danger. She couldn’t bear losing them like she lost her partner.

For anyone who’s never had kids, these scenes are real eye-openers. They reveal how stressful being a single parent is, with all the work and anxiety involved. Plus, the fantasy elements only magnify Hana’s problems. If her kids’ secret didn’t force her into hiding, there’d be more help available to a young mother. As it is, she’s seemingly on her own with no way out of her worrying predicament.

However, the movie’s goal isn’t to discourage its audience. Instead, it wants to show how these hardships can be overcome with the right mindset and determination. And that’s what Hana displays.

Realising the tough situation she’s in, Hana makes a bold decision to move her family to the countryside. There she fixes an old worn-down house (by herself) making it into a proper home. She then goes about learning new skills, like farming and job searching, while teaching Yuki and Ame about responsibilities. Additionally, she has to deal with them growing up and wanting to go out into the world. Namely: attending school. Hana is reluctant, at first, because her kids have never been around large groups of people. Also, there’s no guarantee they’ll control themselves – sometimes they turn into wolves when they get too emotional. These fears are common in parents with disadvantaged children. Should they send them to a public school and risk unsettlement? Would a special needs school be better? Or home-schooling? What would be the safest option? In the end, Hana allows her kids to attend public school since it’s what Yuki wanted. Plus, like any mother, she wants them to have the same opportunities as everyone else. But I digress.

Everything we see is a testament to Hana’s resilience. Her problems never go away quickly, but it’s her strong will that sees her through them. Keeping a level head lets her make the right choices for her kids – even if they’re harder to deal with than average. If you’re a single parent yourself, you can take inspiration from Hana’s story. No matter what challenges you face, if she can manage much worse, you know you can too. It’s all about finding the right balance.

Speaking of balance, I admire how this movie balances darker and light-hearted moments. There are too many to list here, but each one presents itself in a memorable way. For example, there’s the scene where Hana discovers her partner is dead. It begins with nothing but her and the sound of rain. As she looks for him, the rainfall intensifies. And when she finally sees him, there’s suddenly dead silence – broken only by her anguished screams. Alternatively, there’s a scene where she plays in the snow with her kids. There’s no dialogue or sound effects. It’s just them, some beautiful animation and an uplifting soundtrack. Sometimes that’s all you need. The movie does have moments of expositional dialogue, but there are also moments of silence. And sometimes the animation does all the talking: like when Hana learns she’s pregnant, or when she’s torn between a hospital and a vet, and especially during the forest scenes. For the latter, they use camera angles, lighting, water, shadows, and other details to show the grand scale of it. I don’t often mention the animation in my reviews. But in this case, it’s an essential supporting aspect.

Another essential aspect is the characters Hana encounters. There’s her partner (of course), who continues to influence the family long after his death. Her new neighbours, who help her settle into the countryside. Mr Nirasaki, who can be strict but well-meaning. And a boy called Souhei, who unintentionally discovers the family’s secret – leading to a scene that brings the movie full-circle.

And then you have the wolf children themselves: Yuki and Ame. From the moment they’re born, until their early teens, we see just how much they grow and develop as individuals. Interestingly, enough, the story highlights how specific influences affect a person’s mentality, setting them on a new path from when they were younger. Let me elaborate.

First of all, there’s Yuki; the older of the two siblings (who also narrates the story). In the beginning, she’s a lot more confident than her brother. She’s loud, boisterous and takes pride in her abilities as a wolf. Nothing about her is graceful or ladylike. But then, later on, she’s exposed to things like going to school and making friends, and she discovers the joys of being a human girl. After that, she gives up her wolf habits – like parts of her childhood – and aims to be the best human she can be.

As for Ame, he takes the opposite route. Initially, he’s quite timid and frail; often crying at everything and not liking change. He’s also ashamed of being part-wolf because of how society views them – particularly in children’s books. Following a near-death experience, though, he sees how strong he can be and resolves to better himself. Unfortunately, this means dropping out of school and fully embracing his inner wolf.

Now, to be fair, Ame does have a noble cause. He wants to protect nature and its balance with his newfound skills. However, it’s still a cause for concern. Hana thinks her son is choosing a dangerous lifestyle, and that he’s too young in human years. Metaphorically, this could represent parents who worry their child will fall into a life of crime or worse. It’s also worth noting that, before this, Hana wanted her children to have the choice of being wolves if they desired. Now she’s more objectional. Ame’s decision also puts him into conflict with his sister, since they don’t agree on what they are, and it leads to violence between them. A teenager’s life is complicated enough. But for Yuki and Ame to go through this unique identity crisis – as well as their changes in mentality – it adds a whole other layer to their characters. Once again, fantasy succeeds in translating a universal subject to us.

In conclusion, Wolf Children is a heartfelt story of love, sacrifice and determination. The plot does have some forced cliches, like teen romance and fitting in, but they’re honestly nit-picks at best. The narrative more than makes up for them with emotionally engaging characters, beautiful animation, a story anyone can relate to, and fantasy elements which broaden their impact. As for recommendations, this is something for the whole family to watch. Grown-ups can understand their kids’ mentality through Yuki’s narration, while children can appreciate their parents’ struggles through Hana’s perspective. It’s one of those stories that brings everyone closer together.

That’s all I have to say for ‘Wolf Children‘. I look forward to reviewing another anime movie in the future. So until then, stay tuned.

*

If you have any questions, please leave me a comment – I’ll be happy to answer them. And, until next time, stay tuned.

(Image courtesy of: https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/moviesnow/la-et-mn-wolf-children-20130927-story.html)

Autism, Experiences, General, Into my Autistic Mind

Into My Autistic Mind: Early Autism Years

By the time I release this post, it will be the New Year. And with a new year comes changes. An old WWE promo with Mankind is going through my head. I’m sure there will be plenty of changes for me this coming year. I really hope I get to make some advancements with my writing. But today I want to talk about a time in my life when things really started to change for me. A time when I started school and my Autism really started to affect me. Now I’m thinking of an Equestria Girls special where the human characters become ponies. I just corrected a spelling error there. Although my iPad doesn’t recognise it. Now I’m typing with both hands instead of just Intel – ‘one‘, not ‘Intel‘, auto-correct! I watched Channel 4‘s adaption of The Tiger Who Came to Tea earlier. I think they unintentionally made the tiger quite scary. Anyway, I don’t remember much of what happened between the time we moved to our new house in Welling, Kent and school. I somewhat remember going upstairs to explore and see if there was anybody up there. I do remember I was terrified of being on my own. I’d always get scared at night and had trouble sleeping in my own room. I didn’t even like being downstairs on my own when everyone else was upstairs or vice-versa. I remember when my sister and I started nursery at Hook Land Primary School I was very shy. Every day they would select one of the children to welcome the parents inside to pick up their kids, and I could barely look at them without being embarrassed. There was a boy like that in an after-school club I volunteered for later in later in my life. Nursery was the only time my sister and I were ever in the same classroom. There was never another point in primary or secondary school where we shared a class or even a homeroom. I think schools prefer to keep twins and siblings separate. But there was another pair of twins in our primary school who were almost always in the same classes. Anyway, now I’m thinking of the opening to Jimmy Neutron (the movie) and The Fairly Odd Parents. I still remember the name of my nursery teacher: Mrs Swane. And I think her classroom assistant was called Miss Doettey – or something like that. I also remember there was a girl in our class who was constantly disruptive. I think her name was Michele or Rachel, and she was always getting into trouble for doing things like crawling under tables. I don’t think I ever remember her talking. I do, however, remember she had to leave our class for some reason and she kissed everyone goodbye. It was the most behaved I’d ever seen her. Now that I think about it, I wonder if she might’ve been Autistic too. There are other things I vividly recall; like some of the songs we sang, the games we played, the stories we heard, the activities we did, the Christmas tree we decorated. There was always a bigger one put up in the school hall, which every student helped decorate. And in the rare times it was snowing outside in the field or playground, they would actually stop class to let us go out and play in it. Anyway, I think it was when I moved into reception that my Autism started to gravely effect my behaviour. The teachers must’ve known I had it because this was the earliest time I remember having TA support. I’d have several teaching assistants over the years, but the one who stayed with me consistently was a lady called Sue – I don’t know if I ever leaned her surname. Sorry for the pause – I’m recalling the end of Disney Pixar’s Cars when they’re watching car parodies of older Pixar films. Specifically, the one on Monsters Inc. called Monster Trucks Inc. There was also Toy Cars Story. My earliest memories of reception was working on a project based around our field trip to a farm. I wanted to use certain pens for my drawing, but the felt-tips were only for the teacher to use. I think I was so worked-up about it that I wasted all my time complaining and just didn’t draw at all. But it gets worse. Apparently, I was so easily distracted back then I’d sometimes notice a pigeon outside and try to go out after it. In later years, I spat, scratched, was very spiteful, and one time I punched another boy some many times he started bleeding. I set the fire alarm off once – though it wasn’t completely intentional. I’d pee outside behind some bushes – where no one could see me – because I was afraid of going into the boys’ toilets. And then there’s my worst primary school memory. Every now and again the teachers would put on a video for the infants in the school hallway. We’d already watched the whole thing once – I think I might have been an episode of Thundercats – but for some reason they put it on again. And then they stopped it halfway through and I wasn’t happy. In fact, I got so angry that I got up from the floor, ran down the hallway screaming, through some double-doors to the centre of the school, almost ran into some people and then ran back. I’d made such a scene that my parents were called, and I had to be collected from school and taken home. As you can tell, I was a little nightmare. Hang on, I’m thinking of Disney’s Sleeping Beauty and Bambi. And Arthur Christmas. Looking back on it now, I am rather ashamed of how I acted. My Autism just magnified my emotions and made it difficult to read certain situations. There were even cases where my Autism resulted in me getting in trouble at swimming and gym lessons. I will say, though, my teachers had a very good method for teaching me about my bad behaviour; I wasn’t just sent to the head teacher all of the time. If I misbehaved too much in class, they’d write my name on the board. If it got written up there three times then I wouldn’t be allowed to play on my computer at home – which was my favourite thing to do. You might think doing something like this is a little extreme or humiliating. After all – hang on, I’m remembering Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer: The Movie. After all, writing a child’s name up for the whole class to see how naughty they are might be considered singling them out. But to be honest, I didn’t take much notice of what others thought. All I was worried about was making sure I didn’t get three names up there and lose my chance to do what I loved. True, I did lie to my mum somethings about how many names I got. And maybe there were one or two loopholes I found – I couldn’t use the computer, but I still had my Game Boy. However, this method did help me immensely with improving my behaviour over the years. I think later on in the juniors, I might’ve stopped getting names on the board because I was improving so well. I’m thinking of Disney’s The Little Mermaid II – a direct-to-video sequel they released. I also remember one year the Year 6s took on the teachers in a football match. Now I’m thinking of episodes of Mona the Vampire. Anyway, I think if you want to help a young child with Autism improve in school, a method like the one I was given really helps them to think about their actions. Plus, I had mostly the same teaching assistants help me through my many years of primary school. If they have something familiar to latch onto and see them through the major changes in their lives they’ll feel more confident in moving forward. I think what triggered some of my early Autistic outbursts was that everything around me was changing so much. And there were many things I couldn’t wrap my head around. Simple things like having one-to-one support can make all the difference. I wouldn’t say all of my problems were immediately solved. There were still others I had to deal with like bullying, playing and working by myself, and continued bad behaviour. But I would’ve been a lot worse off if it wasn’t for what my teachers did for me. I’m only just realising how much I’ve written at this point. I’ve been very focused on what I’m saying without many thoughts interrupting. Although, saying that I’m now thinking of Disney’s Hercules. I’m almost at 1500 words now. So I’ll continue talking about my later primary school years in a later post. Until then I hope you have a wonderful New Year. Wow – exactly 1500 words!

Experiences, General, Into my Autistic Mind

Into My Autistic Mind at Christmas (2)

It’s that time of year again. Christmas Day is tomorrow. I don’t know why I’m thinking of Jimmy Neutron right now. But, yes, it’s Christmas time and I’ve got a busy day of festivities. I just needed added a comma there. I know I shouldn’t be working Christmas Eve or Christmas Day – especially as I’ve just come off an almost 9-hour shift at work. I’m thinking of the old Mr Men and Little Miss books me and my sister used to read. For the last few sentences I’ve been thinking of My Little Pony and the Christmas specials they’ve aired. Although in Friendship is Magic they actually celebrate a holiday called Hearth’s Warming. Hasbro released a Christmas album several years ago and I’ve listened to the whole thing twice this December. I’m being reminded of a Family Feud blooper from years ago. “During what month of pregnancy does a women begin to look pregnant?” “September.” But, back onto Christmas: I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I’ll be seeing my dad, step-mum and sister for dinner. Then there’s my girlfriend. Yes, I have a girlfriend now – it’s a long story. I’ll be seeing her at her relatives’ house. Then we’ll go back to my dad and step-mum’s, if it hasn’t gotten too late. I just corrected some spelling mistakes there. Now, I’m thinking of the movie Elf. How can you not think of that movie this time of year? Ever since it was released it became an instant classic. I’m thinking of other Christmas movies and specials, too. There’s Arthur Christmas – I just had to look up on my phone how to spell Arthur. Saying that name makes me think of the classic CBBC show that was based on a successful book series. Anyway, other Christmas specials include The Muppets’ Christmas Carol – which I’ve just watched a CinemaSins video on. Sorry for the pause there. Now I’ve remembered one I always used to watch: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer: the Movie. It’s the one with Eric Idle and Whoopie Goldberg. I’m trying my best not to repeat myself from Into My Autistic Mind at Christmas (1). I should say, the reason I’m doing this one is because I had planned on posting a review on New Year’s Day. But now it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to finish it in time. My perfectionism is causing me problems as usual. I think I might write another Into My Autistic Mind on New Years Day. There’s been something I’ve been meaning to continue for some time. I’m also hoping to finish something on the Autism book I’ve been working on. I did promise to give a preview of it in June after all. I’m just trying to keep my mind focused on Christmas. I’m looking at a TV guide next to me right now. I never usually buy a TV guide. But I wanted to know what was on at this time of year. Today things like Kung Fu Panda 3, EastEnders, Not Going Out, The Gruffalo, The Gruffalo’s Child, Toy Story 3, Small Soldiers and The Tiger Who Came to Tea have been on. Yes, they’ve made a TV adaption of Judith Kerr’s famous book. I just failed miserably in trying to remember her name. I haven’t seen any of these specials today because I’ve been at work. I was watching WWE RAW, when my manager called me. He asked me to start two hours earlier than I was supposed to. It was a bit short notice. But money is money. Plus, I got half an hour taken off at the end. It’s given me the time to right this before I go to bed. I’m trying to finish this before midnight. Don’t want Santa to see me awake do I (wink, wink)? Saying that reminded me of a Simpsons’ episode when Chief Wiggum did something similar. It’s also reminded me of an episode of Friendship is Magic when Trixie does soemThey’re – holy coyote, what it that typo/auto-correct I’ve just been given? Anyway, Trixie does the wink thing, too. Other cartoons are going through my head now, but I’m going to pause for a sec. There now. I wanted to have a sip of my tea. Also, the fan in my kitchen has finally stopped. It turns on whenever you flip the light switch and then whirs for about half an hour after you’ve switched it off. It can be annoying when your trying to get to sleep. Then again, I live next to a motorway. I’ve gotten used to the noise it makes noise all night. You learn to ignore it. I had planned on writing this yesterday, but I was at Bluewater shopping centre doing some last pre-Christmas shopping. I also called my mum and saw some friends who I haven’t seen in months. Everyone in my family is unusually busy around Christmas and Boxing Day. So everyone who I’m not seeing tomorrow I’ll see on the 28th. I’ve just started humming some Christmas songs. Specifically, those from The Muppets’ Christmas Carol: It Feels Like Christmas, Marley and Marley, and Love is Gone. The latter actually has a sad story behind it. At some point, they decided to cut this song from the movie and later releases didn’t contain it. Even when they trying restoring to movie, the scene with the song hadn’t been rendered over the years, so they were unable to include it. Or so I’ve heard. It’s a shame, too. Because I remember seeing it on video and it was a beautiful song. The reprise by Scrooge is still at he end of the film though. I’ve just spent the last 10-15mins trying to make those sentences about Love is Gone sound right. That’s my perfection setting in. These ought to be my unfiltered thoughts, I know. I’m thinking of a scene with the ringmaster from Dumbo now. And that’s making me think of circuses – like the one in Jacqueline Wilson’s Hetty Feather series. One second. I’ve just finished my tea and taken care of some business. I’ll tell you what love is NOT gone though. Mine. As I said, I have a girlfriend now. And I’ll be spending my day with her tomorrow. I still need to wrap her present. I hope she likes it. I’ve actually spent a lot on her this Christmas. More than anyone else in my family, in fact. But I do think she’s nice. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing on New Year’s Eve. But it will be rather tricky. You see, not only am I working on New Years Day – one second, I’m thinking if Disney’s Sword in the Stone. Also, I can hear somebody watching Elf in an apartment near mine. Anyway, I’m not only working on New Years Day, but I’m starting at 5am! At least the store itself doesn’t open until 10am. Actually, I’m not sure it is Elf they’re watching. They were earlier. Don’t they know you’re supposed to be asleep when Santa Claus comes (wink)? I should probably end this soon. I want to get to bed before midnight. Maybe I’ll have this posted before Christmas Day is over. But even if I don’t, I still hope you all have a very festive season and never forget that the best gift of all are your friends and family. Love and cherish them with all of your heart, and be good to those less fortunate than you. Happy Christmas! 

Autism, Reviews

My Little Pony: Rock Solid Autism (Part 1)

Hello everybody, this is George Harvey (aka The Autistic Blogger). And today, I have another review for you discussing Autism in the media. For this one, I decided to go back and write something of a follow-up to a piece I made quite some time ago – one I’m sure many of you are familiar with.

Back in October 2016, I wrote a piece on the My Little Pony episode Lesson Zero (2011). In that review, I discussed how the main character, Twilight Sparkle, seemed to exhibit Autistic behaviour throughout the story. Her organisation skills, perfectionist mindset, and attention to detail were all common traits of Autism. Plus, the way she got stressed over a deadline was very similar to how I felt during my last year of University. Out of all the Mane 6 characters (Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity and Fluttershy), she’s the one I relate to the most. For the record, I didn’t think Twilight really was Autistic. She did have obsessions and social problems in the beginning, but they gradually faded as the series progressed. What was clear to me, however, was the episode’s writer did have experience with Autism and wanted to exemplify that in her script. And it paid off, too. Not only was this the first episode of Friendship is Magic I ever saw, but it was a testament to how the show could appeal to all audiences – not just young girls – and teach them about disabilities, relationships and other mature themes.

Since the review was posted, the reaction to it has been overwhelmingly positive. Both parts have been viewed almost 500 times combined, making it my most successful piece to date. Even my Lily Alone review has been surpassed – which I consider to be my magnum opus. Given these statistics and the fact that Friendship is Magic will be ending soon, I decided it was the perfect time to talk about another of its defining episodes. This one is called Rock Solid Friendship (Season 7 episode 4).

Before I begin, it’s worth giving you some background on the character of focus: Maudelina Daisy Pie. Or Maud, for short. Introduced in Season 4, Maud is the older sister of Pinkie Pie; the overzealous party pony, who’s constantly defying the laws of physics. Despite this, however, Maud is the opposite of her sibling in every way possible. Pinkie is lively, eccentric and bursting with colour. Whereas Maud is slow, plain and mostly grey. Pinkie has many interests and hobbies. But Maud only has one passion in life: rocks. She was born on a rock farm, she studies rocks and their properties, she eats rocks, writes poetry about rocks, and even has a pet rock named Boulder. Basically; if it’s not rocks, she’s not interested.

On top of that, Pinkie expresses herself in the most exuberant ways. While Maud rarely shows any emotion. She always wears a neutral expression and speaks in such a monotoned voice that it’s impossible to tell whether she’s happy or bored – even when talking about her interests.

Now, on paper, Maud may sound like an incredibly dull character. Especially compared to some of the more diverse ponies in the series. But strangely enough, it’s her dry personality that makes her so popular. Even if she wasn’t the most relatable pony, we still wanted to know more about her. Why was she so fascinated by rocks? What gave her such a unique outlook on life? What did Pinkie see in her that made her so lovable? These were all answers we wanted to know. And Hasbro delivered.

Since her debut, Maud has appeared in every season of the show thereafter. Evolving from a one-off character to a mainstay of the series. Her popularity has grown thanks to her simple demeanour, considerate nature, and surprising ability to make us laugh. She’s no stand-up comedian, but the way she delivers some absurd lines with little to no emotion – e.g. “I didn’t get a Rocktorate because I can shred on guitar like nopony else” – is so outlandish, that it sounds funny without her even trying. Not bad for a pony who never laughs herself.

So Maud has earned quite the lovable reputation. In fact, she’s often viewed in the same light as other fandom-grown ponies, like Trixie, DJ Pon-3 and Muffins (aka Derpy Hooves). But why am I so fixated with her and not one of those characters? Well, it’s all to do with her presentation. You see, the more she’s appeared, the more I’ve noticed something familiar about her behaviours, i.e. the way she reacts in social situations. Unlike with Twilight, though, these have remained consistent with her character and gradually developed over time. It seemed as though everything was pointing in one direction. And after watching Rock Solid Friendship, there was no longer any doubt in my mind. Maud was Autistic! She’s one of the first animated characters to be portrayed with Aspergers Syndrome. How do I know? Well, although it’s never been officially confirmed by Hasbro, many would agree it’s the best explanation for her personality. And nowhere is this more evident than in Rock Solid Friendship. So today, I’m going to break down the episode and show you exactly how well My Little Pony represents a character on the spectrum.

***

The episode begins with a graduation ceremony. Maud is receiving a Rocktorate, which makes her an official professor in the study of rocks. What’s interesting to note is that she’s the only pony receiving this degree, which shows just how isolating her passion for rocks really is. Believe me, I know.

Some of my Autistic interests include wrestling, anime, games, trading cards, Pokémon, Doctor Who, and a TV series about magical talking ponies. These are all things I really enjoy, but I’m also aware of how obscure they are. Compared to people who like things such as football, cars and celebrity gossip, there are very few who share my level of passion for the things I do. Because of this, it’s often difficult for me to socialise. If people can’t get into my interests, then I can’t get into theirs’ and then we have very little to talk about. The same can be said for Maud. She’s an expert on rocks but has no pony to share it with.

Another thing worth mentioning is Maud’s incredibly short acceptance speech: “I’m Maud. Hi. Thank you.” This could be a reference to how Autistic people sometimes find it difficult speaking in public. I’ve personally never had a problem with it, but finding the right words to express yourself can be challenging if you have multiple ways of doing it. So Maud keeps everything simple and to the point.

Following the opening credits, we find out Maud could be moving to Ponyville since she has nothing left to study back on the rock farm. Pinkie is overjoyed her sister might live in her hometown. But Maud says she’s also considering Ghastly Gorge, as it has many exotic rocks for her to study. With this in mind; Pinkie decides to show her around town, hoping to convince her that Ponyville is the better option.

Now, there are two ways of looking at Pinkie here. On the one hand, she is acting a bit selfishly. All she’s thinking of Maud is living near her, despite the fact it could prevent her from using her Rocktorate. But at the same time, it’s understandable why she’d want this so much. In previous episodes, it’s been shown that Pinkie left home long before her sister did. And Maud wasn’t always there when she visited, because she was off earning her dissertation. Being separated for so long, it’s only natural she wants to make up for lost time.

Additionally, it could be Pinkie wants to look after Maud. We’ve seen before she’s the only pony who understands her Autism. And she knows moving out could be an overwhelming experience. So she wants to support her sister through it. More on this later (Part 2).

Pinkie’s efforts to convince Maud don’t go so well at first. To begin with, she shows her the Ponyville gem cave – hoping to amaze her with some rare stones. Unfortunately, Maud points out all the gems are actually quite common – not something worth getting fussed over. Pinkie then shows her Twilight’s castle, which is made entirely out of crystal. But Maud still isn’t impressed. Lots of structures are made from rocks and they “literally just saw hundreds of them in the gem cave.” Then Pinkie gets really desperate by pretending some sting bush seed pods, a tortoise named Tank, and a pony named Lyra, are all rocks she’s never seen before. Maud doesn’t even bother playing along. And why would she?

That’s another thing about Maud; she takes everything she hears very literally. It’s not that she doesn’t have any imagination – Boulder is proof of that – but whenever someone uses a figure of speech or says something slightly incorrect, she can’t help but correct them, or reply as if they’ve said something serious. For example, when she first met Rarity, the latter asked her, “What is the delightful frock you’re wearing now, saying?” To which Maud replied, “It doesn’t talk, it’s a dress.” On that note, Maud can also be a little insensitive sometimes. She doesn’t consider how her words might affect those listening. For instance, when she said the gems in the cave were actually common, she did so in front Rarity, who often uses them in her dress designs. Hearing this reduces her to tears, and Maud even doesn’t notice. It’s the same with me. Sometimes people say it’s quarter-to-two (1:45) when it’s actually 1:47. I’m tempted to say it’s thirteen-to, but I know pointing out this small technicality would seem rude. So I resist the urge.

Anyway, back onto the story.

Pinkie begins to lose hope of convincing Maud to live in Ponyville. But then her sister reveals it’s not just rocks that are influencing her decision. She admits that while she is passionate about exotics rocks, it bothers her she’s always had to study them alone. She could handle some less interesting ones if it means she had somepony to talk to besides Boulder. In other words, she really wants a friend. Hearing this, Pinkie is keen to help her find somepony. But there’s a catch: Maud’s problem isn’t finding somepony she likes, but somepony who “gets” her. Pinkie doesn’t count because she’s already used to her personality.

This was the scene that convinced me Maud was Autistic. As I’ve said before, Autism and isolation often go hand in hand – through no fault of the person affected. The trouble is people having the wrong impressions sometimes. A common misconception is that we don’t like talking to people and we’re perfectly happy being in our own company. This isn’t true. While I do enjoy moments of solitude to focus on my writing, nobody wants to be lonely all the time. Autistic people want the same as everyone else does; a life we can be proud of and friends we can rely on. The issue is working through some additional social barriers, like the clash of interests mentioned above. We’ve actually seen Maud go through this personally.

In her very first episode, Maud was introduced to the Mane 6 by Pinkie. She spent some time with each of them, doing activities they each enjoyed; designing with Rarity, nature-walking with Fluttershy, reading with Twilight, making cider with Applejack and competing against Rainbow Dash. Unfortunately, none were Maud’s cup of tea. And because they couldn’t grasp her unusual personality, she was one of the few ponies they couldn’t form a bond with. Even by the end of the story, when they were much better aquatinted, you couldn’t really say they’d become friends.

In spite of Maud’s social problems, Pinkie tells her not to worry. Because there’s nothing wrong with who she is. Also, when it comes to making friends, you never know who you might run into. Enter Starlight Glimmer…

Oh yeah, Starlight. I should probably tell you about this character, too. Originally introduced as a villain in Season 5, Starlight was an evil dictator, who ran a cult-like village, where ponies had to give up their special talents and conform to equality. She even tried forcefully conditioning the Mane 6, as well. After being thwarted twice, however, she saw the error of her ways and became Twilight’s personal friendship student. Since then, she’s played a very prominent role in the series – often to the point where fans consider her the 7th “Mane” pony of the show. She’s even had her fair share of saving Equestria from time to time. What made Starlight so different was her unique background as a former villain. At this point, she was troubled by her past and keen to move on from it. But it kept getting brought up, making her uneasy. Even so, it was essential in building her character. With her past experiences, she was able to relate to others in ways the Mane 6 never could; understanding their corrupted mindsets and giving them a chance to learn what she did. This made the most empathetic pony in the whole series, and even lead to her becoming a guidance counsellor in Season 8.

Anyway…

After bumping into Maud, Starlight seems to recognise her. It turns out, they actually met each other once before. While travelling Equestria for her Rocktorate, Maud encountered Starlight when the latter was a villain. She then directed her to a magical stone, which ultimately allowed her to enslave her village. Freaked out by this revelation, Pinkie demands that Maud “tell no pony.” But Maud nonchalantly replies “it’s not like she’s enslaved anypony lately.

Realising there’s a small connection between Starlight and her sister; Pinkie encourages them to spend time together, hoping something will blossom from it. Again, she is genuinely trying to help her sister here. But it’s obvious Pinkie is doing this more so Maud will choose Ponyville.

While running errands together, Maud and Starlight discuss some of their interests. Aside from rocks, Maud also likes minerals, plate tectonics, and stand-up comedy. It’s here that Starlight reveals she has her own unusual hobby: she likes kites. Upon hearing this, Maud simply looks at her in silence for a few seconds, before saying, “kites are cool.

This might be the best-executed moment in the whole episode for me. It’s very brief, but it’s the perfect response from somebody with Autism. You can tell Maud doesn’t really mean it when she says “kites are cool” – there’s no passion in her voice. And that’s understandable. Kites aren’t something she’s particularly interested in. Nor is it something she knows much about. She’s not sure how to react to Starlight’s love for them. She spends a moment trying to think of a good follow-up sentence, but can’t quite manage it. So she just says the simplest, most polite thing she can think of.

Now, usually, this sort of response would end a conversation. It’s happened where I’ve said something this bluntly, and people have changed the subject because they knew I wasn’t getting into it. Fortunately for Maud, Starlight actually takes her response as an opportunity.

Sometime later, we see Starlight flying a homemade kite next to Maud. She then explains how to craft a perfect SLK (single-line-kite), clearly enthusiastic to be sharing her knowledge. Maud seems intrigued by how much goes into something as simple as a kite. Just like how much goes into something a simple as a rock. She admits “they’re starting to grow on [her],” thus making this her first new interest in years.

How will things play out in the rest of the story? You’ll have to wait and see.

(Continued in Part 2: https://georgeharvey2015.wordpress.com/2019/04/01/my-little-pony-rock-solid-autism-part-2/)

 

If you have any questions, please leave me a comment – I’ll be more than happy to answer them. And, until next time, stay tuned.

(Image courtesy of: http://www.unleashthefanboy.com/news/little-pony-friendship-magic-maud-pie-review/93307)

General DVD Reviews, Reviews

Finding Dory Review

Hello everybody, this is George Harvey (aka The Autistic Blogger). And today I’m here with another of my reviews on disabilities in the media. Now, as my Third Anniversary Special was a bit UK-centred, and something hardly anyone knew, I decided to look at something more internationally well-known. Also, I’m taking a step back from Autism and focusing on disabilities in general. I see no better movie to do that with than Finding Dory (2016).

During the late 90s and early 2000s, Pixar was establishing themselves as one of the industry leaders in animated films. With their ground-breaking computer technology and stories that were both imaginative and relatable, every feature they released was a major success. One of their biggest hits during that period was Finding Nemo (2003); a story about an overprotective father (Marlin the clownfish), whose son (Nemo) is kidnapped by divers. Now he has to fight his way through the ocean to reach Syndey, Australia and save him. It’s not the most original concept ever. In fact, you could say it’s your typical run-of-the-mill rescue mission. But what it ended up becoming was something a lot more. Through bonds of friendship, life-threatening situations, and personal growth for both the father and son, it’s a story that shows just how the power of love can overcome any obstacle and bring families closer together.

The response to this film was outstanding. Not only did it win the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature in 2003, but it was the second highest grossing film of that year and became one of the best-selling DVDs of all time – with 40 million copies sold in just three years. The American Film Institute even named it the 10th Greatest Animated Film ever made, and, it was voted one of the Greatest Motion Pictures since 2000 by international critics. After more than a decade since its release, Finding Nemo continues to inspire audiences both young and old. And so in 2013, Pixar announced they’d be releasing a sequel. But how do you continue a story that was near-perfect and arguably didn’t need a follow-up? By focusing on one of its most beloved characters. The ever-forgetful Dory.

Voiced by Ellen DeGeneres, Dory is the regal blue tang who joins Marlin on his quest to find Nemo. Although she’s incredibly good-hearted and wants to help, it doesn’t take Marlin long to realise she comes with complications. You see, Dory has a disability – specifically short-term memory loss – which causes her to forget things almost instantly. Throughout the first film, her condition is mostly played for comedy or used to delay the journey somehow. But it’s not all bad. Some of her other abilities are very useful to Marlin. For one thing, she can read. Which allows them to work out where Nemo is. She also teaches Marlin to enjoy himself every once in a while and uses her charm to get other fish to help them. Additionally, her disability has its high points too. While travelling with Marlin, she remembers their destination thanks to her strong desire to help him. Also, towards the end, when it seems he and Nemo have missed each other, Dory is able to reunite them following a sudden spark in her memory. Through it all, though, she remains her lovable and entertaining self.

In Finding Dory, she becomes the main character. And we’re given answers to questions we never realised we needed. How did Dory learn to read? Where did she come from? And, most importantly, what happened to her parents? In this role reversal of the first film, she sets out to find her family with help from Marlin and Nemo. Along the way, her condition is explored more deeply, and the film provides a social commentary on disabilities as a whole. Now, obviously, I can’t speak for anyone who has short-term memory loss, since I don’t have the condition myself. But I am diagnosed with Autism, which is also a neurological disability. And, as far as representing those go, the film does an excellent job speaking to both the people diagnosed with them and their parents. How exactly? Let’s find out.

***

The movie begins with a young Dory, learning a phrase from her parents – one that will help her if she ever gets lost. “Hi, I’m Dory, I suffer from short-term memory loss.” We then get our first glimpse of how the condition affects her. She can’t count to 10, she’s easily distracted by sand (because it’s squishy) and forgets her parents are pretending to be fish she’s never met.

Distraction is common for people with neurological disabilities. Things may look or sound more interesting than what we should be focusing on, and our brains get instinctively attracted to them. This can lead to learning difficulties, which is why those people need guidance and support in their early years.

Dory’s condition also poses risks to her wellbeing. We see she has to be careful not to swim near the undertow or its current might sweep her away. However, she forgets the danger and occasionally swims too close anyway. Her parents try teaching her a song to remember, but she gets distracted again and starts singing a different tune. It’s at this point she notices them looking worried and feels sorry.

What’s good about this scene is that Dory’s parents remain patient and reassuring. Even young children will understand they have problems and they might feel ashamed by them. It’s essential for parents to make sure their child isn’t discouraged and that they find engaging ways of teaching them – no matter how challenging it is.

We then cut to some time later, where Dory has somehow gotten lost. She remembers what her parents taught her to say, but she can’t remember how she lost them. Worse still, she keeps forgetting the fish who try to help her and wanders off again and again. She spends years wandering the ocean until she bumps into Marlin, setting off the events of the first film.

It can be a risky thing when a child gets lost. But it’s even more so when that child has a disability. In some cases, they get so invested in their own thoughts that they can’t comprehend what’s going on around them. I know this because it wasn’t long ago a child wandered off from a store where I work. They actually left the shop altogether and began walking down the high street with a busy road. Even when he was found, he didn’t respond to his mother’s calls or understand what he’d done wrong. Not all children are affected to this degree. But until they know better, it’s best never to let a child like this out of your sight. In Dory’s case, she was lucky not to have been eaten.

A year later, Dory is happily living next door to Marlin and Nemo. However, she keeps waking up too early and forgetting about their anemone’s stings. During a field trip to the stingray migration, words like “home” and “undertow” suddenly trigger suppressed memories in Dory’s mind; she remembers how she got lost and something called “the Jewel of Morro Bay, California.” In a frenzy, she swims for the edge of the reef.

Before I go on, I should say this: Dory continues having these flashbacks throughout the movie, and they gradually reveal what happened to her. Initially, they were meant to be part of the first film with Marlin – to show why he became so paranoid and overbearing. However, the idea was dropped in favour of the prologue because it would’ve diverted from the journey’s heart too much. The reason they work better here is they allow us to feel what it’s like having Dory’s condition. With each new memory, we learn crucial information which brings us closer to the story’s climax. In this sense, it’s as much our journey as it is her’s.

Dory makes it clear she doesn’t want to forget these memories. She has to find her family but knows she can’t do it alone. She needs Marlin and Nemo with her or else she’ll forget. On a side note, I really love it when disadvantaged people show this level of understanding towards their condition. It proves they can work around their own limitations and live independently.

Marlin is reluctant to leave the reef again. But seeing how much Dory misses her parents, as he did Nemo, he agrees to help her. This is a well-executed moment because it gives us some emotional, as well as nostalgic, connection to the first film. We then get another one in the next scene. We see Crush the sea turtle again! By the way, this movie does feature many returning characters (e.g. the seagulls, Mr Ray, and the Tank Gang), but they only play very minor roles, and more emphasis is given to the newer ones introduced – which I’ll get to in a minute.

Upon arriving in California, Dory has a flashback which reminds her of her parents’ names: Jenny and Charlie. Unfortunately, calling them attracts the attention of a monster squid. After nearly getting Nemo eaten, Marlin angrily tells Dory to wait somewhere and forget – since it’s what she does best. This is harsh and would definitely upset anyone with a disability. Essentially, it shows us how not to react in this situation. Marlin gets frustrated with Dory and berates her for not being able to do the simplest things. Even though it’s not always her fault. Saying something like this would just make her resent her condition and gravely affect her psyche. Compared to the earlier scene with Dory’s parents, it’s clear which way is better in handling challenging situations. Additionally, this moment begins a small development arc for Marlin. As Nemo points out, his father tends not to believe in the capabilities of disadvantaged creatures. He did so a lot with Nemo in the first film – given his son was born with a disfigured fin – and continues doing so with Dory, and later a mentally-handicapped bird named Becky. Eventually, he does realise the error of his ways and accepts these creatures have their own way of solving things.

Back onto the story, Dory is caught by marine biologists and taken into the Californian Marine Life Institute – aka “The Jewel of Morro Bay.” Inside, she comes across some colourful characters. There’s Hank the octopus, who’s a bit grouchy but has three good hearts, and two other disabled sea creatures: Destiny the whale shark, who’s near-sighted; and Bailey the beluga, who supposedly can’t use his echolocation after hitting his head. Having characters like this with physical disabilities shows the movie is appealing to all disabled audiences, not just those associated with memory loss. Additionally, they provide some alternate viewpoints on the subject. Destiny doesn’t like her disability because it makes her scared of bumping into things. Whereas Bailey could, unfortunately, represent someone trying to exploit their disability; it’s revealed later on he can use echolocation, he just let his injury prevent him from trying. Being disabled does make things challenging, there’s no doubt, but it should never be used as an excuse. I never let my Autism stop me from putting in my best writing effort.

After more flashbacks, Dory recalls it was Destiny who taught her to speak whale and her parents who made up the Just Keep Swimming song. She also remembers her dad telling her there’s always another way, which inspires her to reach the Open Ocean exhibit – where her parents are – by land. Thinking back to the beginning, when Dory was struggling to learn important lessons, these revelations prove it is possible to remember them over time – even with a neurological disability. It just takes persistence and creativity. In Dory’s case, she was able to memorise whale-speak through constant practice with Destiny, and, her parents embedded a catchy song in her head, which helped her grow up happy and determined. It’s moments like this when disabilities don’t seem all that bad. However, in contrast, the next scene presents some of the issues Dory still has with her’s.

While travelling to the Open Ocean exhibit (by stroller and sippy cup), Dory has to remember the route by following signs and giving Hank directions. She keeps repeating “follow the signs to [the] Open Ocean“, but even then she get’s distracted. Consequently, she makes Hank take a wrong turn and they end up way off track. He then exclaims her memory isn’t working and it’s probably how she lost her family in the first place. Again this is harsh, but it sets up for some essential character development.

While defending she didn’t ‘lose’ anyone, Dory and Hank end up in the touch pool. Which I will admit is made to feel very threatening from the perspective of a fish. Despite the risk of being crushed, Dory tells Hank he needs to keep on swimming, and soon he releases a cloud of ink which fends off the kids. With his life saved, Hank takes back what he said and warms up to Dory. In fact, when they eventually part ways, he says he’ll have a hard time forgetting her. Just as she says “I think I’m going to remember you” – which coming from her means a lot.

Inside the Open Ocean, Dory can’t find her parents. But she does notice some shells lying in the sand. She then remembers her parents used to leave a trail of them so she could find her way home. Following it, she comes to the place where she used to live. But her parents aren’t there either. Seeing it, however, does bring back her most significant memory. One night, a young Dory overheard her mother crying. She was worried that her daughter wouldn’t be able to live independently given the severity of her condition. Dory didn’t want to see her mother sad, so she went to get her a purple shell to cheer her up. Unfortunately, the one she chose was too close to the undertow, and the current swept her away.

How many parents have had this concern? How easy is it to think your child won’t survive in life because of their condition? What if your teaching methods are all in vain? I know my parents must’ve felt this way at some point. And so have millions of others. But the thing is, none of it’s true. History has shown that even the most severely disabled people can go on to live happy, normal lives and do incredible things. It’s not just me, famous people have overcome their limitations; Albert Einstein, Satoshi Tajiri, Steven Hawking and many more. What’s important is for parents not to give in to doubt. If they do, their child will just pick up on their concerns and lack any self-confidence. But if they stick to their teachings and remain calm and reassuring, everything will work out well in the end. If there’s one scene from Finding Dory worth watching, believe me, it’s this one.

Following her flashback, Dory learns that all the regal blue tangs have been taken into quarantine. The quickest way to get there is through the pipes, but she’s worried she’ll forget the directions she’s given – again, this is showing a clear understanding of her limitations. Unfortunately, she’s right. Within moments the directions get jumbled up in her head, she makes wrong turns and becomes hopelessly lost. Luckily another memory saves her. Using the pipes’ echo, she’s able to contact Destiny, and, with Bailey’s reawakened echolocation, the whale shark guides her to safety. But not before the latter reunites with Marlin and Nemo, who’ve been on their own misadventure to find her.

As the three travel down the pipes together, Dory wonders if her parents will really want to see her again. But Marlin tells her they’ll be overjoyed. Because parents will always love their children regardless of their disabilities. Which is an important thing to remember; no matter how challenging a child’s condition is, it’s simply a part of who they are. True parents will learn to accept this and live past it. Marlin knows Dory’s parents will also love who she is now. Because he admits that the time he’s spent with her has made him a better father. In fact, the way he and Nemo found her was by thinking: “What would Dory do?” She feels happier after hearing this, but Nemo is sad to realise they’ll have to say goodbye soon.

Arriving in quarantine, it doesn’t take the friends long to find the regal blue tangs’ tank. However, there’s shocking news: Jenny and Charlie went missing years ago. Apparently, they followed Dory down the pipes to try and find her but never came back. Believing her parents to be dead, Dory begins spacing out and loses all sense of what’s going on. It then goes from bad to worse as she’s lifted from the tank – leaving Marlin and Nemo trapped – gets dropped on the floor and then slips down a grating back into the ocean. Within seconds, she can’t remember what’s just happened and even forgets Marlin and Nemo.

This goes back to what I said about being heavily invested in your own thoughts. Dory is so distraught by her parents’ fate that she can’t register anything else. It’s another well-executed moment because everything is shown through Dory’s eyes, allowing us to feel how confused and unfocused she is.

At this point, Dory is terrified. And we’re scared for her since there’s a real chance she could end up wandering the ocean again. Fortunately, the one thing she does remember is “what would Dory do?” So, staying calm, she assesses her surroundings and makes decisions on where to go. First, she swims towards some kelp (since it’s better than open water); then some sand (because it’s squishy), then a shell, then another shell, then another. And then she realises there’s a whole trail of them. Following it, she comes to a sunken tyre with dozens of shell trails leading towards it. As she approaches, two figures emerge from the distance. It’s her parents! After a moment of stunned silence, Jenny and Charlie rush towards their daughter and embrace her lovingly. Dory is overjoyed as well. But then she starts crying. She apologises to her parents, saying she knows she’s got a problem, but can’t fix it; thoughts leave her head, ideas change, she even forgot about them, etc.

Never before have I ever seen a character so openly expressive about their condition. If the flashback with Dory’s mother was for the parents watching, this scene is definitely for the children.

Jenny and Charlie tell Dory not to be sorry. Because she found them! And they always knew she would. They escaped the institute and stayed in one place for years, collecting shells and making trails, because they always knew somehow she’d remember what they taught her. And she did. “You remembered in your own amazing Dory way,” Jenny says. This was the most powerful line in the whole movie for me. It speaks volumes about the true capabilities of disabled people and what they can achieve under the right influences.

When asked if she’s been alone all this time, Dory suddenly remembers Marlin and Nemo. She has to go back and save them or else they’ll be shipped off to Missouri with the regal blue tangs. With help from her parents and numerous other creatures – including Hank, Bailey and Destiny (who’ve all escaped the institute) – she comes up with a plan. At one point, she has to separate from her parents. But she tells them not to worry. Because even if she does forget, she knows she can find them again. After some crazy shenanigans, including hijacking a truck and crashing it into the sea, Marlin and Nemo are saved. And the other sea creatures can finally enjoy the real open ocean.

Sometime later, Dory is back on the reef with Marlin and Nemo. Her parents have moved there along with Hank, Bailey and Destiny. We see she still has problems with her memory, e.g. forgetting how to count and why she’s counting, but after thinking things through, she’s able to remember quickly. The final scene shows her enjoying the ocean view with Marlin and having one last flashback: her parents are proud she’s followed the shell trail home and say she can do anything if she puts her mind to it.

In conclusion, Finding Dory may not have been a sequel anyone asked for. But it was a surprising success nonetheless. With its unforgettable characters and highly relatable story, it’s little wonder why it became the second Pixar film to gross more than a billion dollars at the box office. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: this movie is for everyone. Even if you’re not a fan of Pixar or animation, I’d recommend it if you’re associated with disabilities in any way (parent or child).

***

And that’s all I have to say for Finding Dory. I’m sorry this review took me a little longer to finish, but I hope you’ve enjoyed it. If you have any questions, please leave me a comment – I’ll be more than happy to answer them. And, as always, stay tuned.

(Image courtesy of https://www.amazon.ca/Finding-Dory-Blu-ray-DVD-Digital/dp/B01FJ4UGF0)