In the current Star Wars: Agent of the Empire comic book miniseries Iron Eclipse, the Imperial agent Jahan Cross (no relation) has a droid sidekick named IN-GA 44. “Inga” is a human replica droid, designed to be an infiltration unit along the lines of Terminators or Replicants. Their metal bodies get covered with fake flesh, and go on their merry way.

However, Jahan very specifically chose not to have the usual synthetic skin covering applied to Inga, as he wants his “droids to look like droids.” Well, there’s a few problems with Inga being a human replica droid, and most of them are just more of the ridiculous and laughable sexism still running rampant in comics.

Is she looking for robot porn?

First things first: the antennae on her ears. How would you mold flesh around that, as you would if Inga was completed? Perhaps those were added on later at Jahan’s request, but they still stand out. (In the real world, they were probably placed there to add details to her otherwise simplistic head.)

Next is the beauty mark and molded lips. Inga clearly does not have a nose; that makes sense, as that would be made of flesh. So why is there a specific beauty mark and full metal lips on a metal face? In a human replica droid’s completed form, you wouldn’t see them. They’re only there to make her look “sexy,” which is damned creepy on a robot.

Buckle up, it gets weirder.

Here’s the big standout — or rather, the two big standouts: Inga’s metal boobs. Last time I checked, boobs were made of flesh (or at least flesh covering jiggly silicone). For a droid designed to be indistinguishable from a human, how would a rock-solid rack help her fit in? (Especially when some lecherous scumbag attempts to cop a feel, which always happens in adventure stories.)

Last but not least…Inga has high heels.

What’s next, a pole?

Those aren’t boots or other footwear, mind you; those stiletto heels are part of her actual frame, which means that she also doesn’t have any toes. Jahan specifically said that he wanted Inga to look like a droid, which means that she came this way from her builder. Now, even though it seems that Inga was a custom job, the fact remains that she was specifically designed to infiltrate human society. Try to imagine the absolutely freakish creature that would result if they covered her in synthetic flesh! No way in hell could that blend in. Not only that, high heels aren’t exactly combat-friendly. Superheroines often wear them because they’re supposed to look sexy. That ain’t right on a robot.

I don’t know if Inga’s stripper-bot look was artistic license on behalf of penciler Stéphane Roux, or if Inga was specifically described this way by writer John Ostrander. Either way, it’s a shame; Roux’s art stands well enough on its own, and Ostrander should know better than to resort to such sexist nonsense.

Or, even worse, the creators thought that readers couldn’t possibly understand that Inga has a female personality unless they specifically designed her visual appearance around stereotypes. “Dammit, if she doesn’t have titanium tits, birthin’ hips and six-inch heels, fanboys won’t know what to think!”

It’s a shame, because other than her looks, Inga is a pretty cool character. Her espionage skills have proven most valuable to Jahan, she can hold her own in battle, and she’s likely a tribute to Maria, the robot from the classic silent film Metropolis. That’s always great to see. But given Inga’s fanboy-pandering design, I can’t help but shake my head and laugh.

(And shudder in horror at people who get off on a goddamned robot.)

Something that’s always aggravated me to no end is when people claim that a book, film, painting, album, or other creative endeavor is free from criticism because it’s “art.” Critical immunity is something I’ve spoken about in the past, but I want to focus on the art world today.

I need to make something incredibly clear: art appreciation is subjective, but art itself is not. What most people fail to realize is that any piece of art, no matter the medium, still requires certain techniques in order to produce it. Those techniques are not opinions; they are merely processes subject to criticism just like anything else.

Take a film, for example. Your personal opinions on the overall product nonwithstanding…how was the acting? The editing? Sound design? Special effects? All of those are tried-and-true techniques that are taught, learned, and mastered. If a film is poorly edited, your comments on it must take that into account, otherwise you’re simply wrong. The same applies if a film has fantastic special effects, but you pan them because you didn’t like how they were used to advance the story. You’re incorrectly dumping your opinion on quantifiable techniques, rather than feelings toward the final product.

Criticism should be specific rather than generic. When it’s the latter, you’re often criticizing someone’s appreciation of the medium rather than actual details of a certain work within that medium. That has nothing to do with the work itself, and thus has no place in proper criticism of art.

I’m really getting tired of the “worst thing ever” consciousness that’s pervaded pop culture in recent years, where the thing in question could be a movie, album, book, video game, comic book story, et cetera.

I’m not talking about that dumb Comic Book Guy meme. That would be “Worst. Episode. Ever.”, which is completely separate yet still annoying. I mean the tendency of everday Internet dwellers and professional critics alike to dub something as the worst ever, when it is clearly not. (Sure, it’s possible for something recent to be the worst ever, but I’ve rarely if ever seen this.)

Further inflaming things is that they’ll label something the worst ever…until the following year, when something else becomes the worst ever. Wash, rinse, repeat. That clearly means that the preceding items weren’t nearly so bad, now were they?

For example, take this summer’s superhero film Green Lantern. It wasn’t great, but I’ve heard more than one critic dismissing it as “the worst comic book movie ever.”

Are you kidding me? Have these fools never seen schlock like Superman IV: The Quest for Peace or Batman & Robin? Even non-comic book fans could likely name five to ten superhero flicks off the top of their heads that make Green Lantern look like Citizen Kane.

This whole “worst ever” practice is blatant ignorance of and disregard for history. I understand that more often than not it’s either a) just the usual mindless bullshit from the average Internet troll, or b) a shameless ploy to pull in more page hits by making an inflammatory statement. In that case, I hereby declare this entry to be the worst blog post ever.

…until next year’s worst blog post ever.

I picked up the Blu-ray Disc collector’s edition of The Nightmare Before Christmas a little while ago. Aside from being a fan of Tim Burton’s work, I’m also a sucker for fine stop-motion animation, and Nightmare sets the bar pretty high in that regard.

“What’s this?!”
“The moon, dumbass.”

The version I purchased was actually one of those kickass BRD/DVD combo packs, which are becoming more and more prevalent as motion picture studios get a clue. The package was on sale for quite a low price, making the deal even sweeter. The DVD copy was for my girlfriend, but she was surprised that I bought the flick in the first place. She said to me, “I thought you hated musicals.”

She’s correct, but I find Nightmare to be an exception. As to why, let me explain why I don’t like musicals first, otherwise my opinions will make even less sense than usual.

You know I’m all about storytelling, which is why I’m often so picky when it comes to various media. I’m of the mind that the story should always come first, and whatever genre or style the end product falls into should be a result of said story. Musicals are the reverse. Those are designed to be song-and-dance routines first, with a story shoehorned in later, now matter how ridiculous the premise may be.

Then there’s the whole matter of realism. Sure, I like stupid movies as much as the next guy, but musicals take things to even more preposterous level. Since when is a serious situation going to cause people to break out into song, and start traipsing about in the streets like idiots? Case and point: Les Misérables. Since when is a bloody conflict like the fucking French Revolution something you want to sing and dance about? (Unless, of course, you want to make fun of it like Mel Brooks did with the “Spanish Inquisition” routine in The History of the World Part I.)

Even if you try to write a musical off as “the music is what’s telling the story,” then why bother having the non-musical parts? If the music the primary vehicle for telling the story, then the rest is clearly not, and shouldn’t be there. If I want storytelling via music, I’ll throw on a prog rock concept album. (Or an Immortal record.)

Let’s bring things back around to Nightmare. I highly doubt that Burton was hellbent on creating a musical, and later stuck a bunch of creepy characters in it. I’m sure Jack Skellington and friends came first, the world of Halloween Town and whatnot took shape, and then Burton worked with Danny Elfman to create a memorable score. The songs likely grew out of that, especially since this was a Disney film meant to be marketed to all ages. (Disney still released the film under their Touchstone Pictures imprint, as they thought some scenes were too scary for little kids.)

The songs in Nightmare are all well done (surprise, it’s an Elfman score), but they’re not critical to the film’s plot. They function just like a non-vocal score to a film, and that’s why they work so well.

I guess an even better example is this: look at other Disney animated films like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Cinderella, or Aladdin. There’s plenty of songs in them, but who really considers these films to be “musicals”?

Finally, I should also mention that my folks enjoy musicals, so I had to listen to that shit growing up. A lot. It drove me batty, so if you want to discount all of my other explanations and just go with that as the reason for my disgust when it comes to musicals, that’s cool.