Angst All Around
It's always somewhat disheartening to watch cartoons
that are obviously intended to connect with the
kids. Hanna-Barbera's 'toon output from the late
Sixties through the Eighties comprises a long list of
programs, designed to be hip and contemporary, that
never lasted more than a season and are largely
remembered by those of us who grew up during that
period as just plain embarrassing, from Fred's stupid
ascot on Scooby-Doo to the Top Gun-esque SWAT
Kats - The Radical Squadron (who, being only two
anthropomorphic cats in one jet fighter, were neither
a squadron nor particularly "radical"). According to
the executives at H-B and Filmation, Inc., most kids
wanted to be teenage rock-star spies, wear scarves and
bell-bottoms, and drive really hideous customized
Chevy vans. Me, I was just waiting for Bugs Bunny to
come on.
In the grand tradition of cartoons made by adults to
show children what it's like to be teenagers, Kids' WB
is serving up a new version of The X-Men, based on
the venerable Marvel comics about a team of mutant
superheroes who band together to protect humanity,
even though said
humanity fears and wishes to ghettoize them because of
their mutations. This is the second attempt at an
X-Men animated series -- the first was hugely
popular and is still in syndication -- but this one
comes hard on the heels of last summer's live-action
film and is intended to
capitalize on the film's momentum. The cartoon is also
heavily informed by the film's subtext of
marginalization, where the mutants served as metaphor
for other disenfranchised groups (director Bryan
Singer referenced the philosophical divide between
Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, and star Ian
McKellen likened the film's issues to those facing the
gay community, with "closeted" and "outed" mutants).
In this case, however, the marginalization is
age-based. X-Men: Evolution consciously parallels
mutation with adolescent angst. While the ages of most
of the X-Men, in the comics, film, and first cartoon,
are around their late twenties/early thirties (the
"bibles" of the major comic book companies say that
all superheroes are 29 years old unless otherwise
indicated), the characters in this cartoon are
students at generic Bayville High School. The only
adults are the X-Men's wheelchair-bound mentor
Professor Xavier, the weather-controlling Storm, and
the elusive badass Wolverine, who is not "officially"
on the team but rather a watchful friend -- they're
like Dad, Mom, and that uncle who occasionally shows
up to raid the fridge and borrow money. At Xavier's
Institute, the grownups teach the kids -- whose
strange new abilities surface with the onset of
puberty -- how to cope with their genetic destiny,
although curiously, the only uses for those powers
seem to be in combat.
When they're not in training to kick other people's
asses, the X-Men fly around the country attempting to
recruit new mutants to come back with them and learn
to kick other people's asses. At the same time, a
second group of evil mutants led by Mystique, are
trying to do the same, leading to frequent battles
when the two sides meet up. As the shape-shifting
Mystique is currently posing as the principal of
Bayville High, all of these mutants, good and evil,
meet up day after day. The only difference is that in
the field, in costume -- wearing their colors, if
you will -- the two groups are free to unleash their
powers openly, while they must all maintain a low
profile at school.
The shift in age, from adult mutants beating each
other up to teenagers beating each other up, is
presumably supposed to trip the triggers of the show's
target audience, mostly pre-adolescents -- let's say
junior high, tops. The teen X-Men interact in that
magical place, high school, and get to drive cars and
look fashionably funky (mandatory skater cuts for the
guys and thumb rings for the girls) and do all those
other things a kid would do in a parent-free
environment. Spyke, who grows pointy things on his
body and shoots them, is also a top-notch
skateboarder. Cyclops must wear his modified
sunglasses to contain the beams of force that emit
from his eyes, but still, as impediments go, having to
wear cool-joe shades is pretty kid-friendly. Even
Nightcrawler, who has blue fur, three-digit hands and
feet, and a pointed tail, is immediately given a
device -- by Xavier, on whom the irony is apparently
lost -- that imposes a pre-programmed slacker illusion
on his form, thus sparing him the inconvenience of
looking different. If it weren't for the fact that
they're mutants and all, the X-Men would have it
great.
The evil mutants, on the other hand, are ugly as sin.
The Blob is invulnerable, but this is due to his
enormous size and the density of his rolls of fat. The
Toad is agile and quick, but he also has the gaunt
frame, the bloodshot eyes, and the rancid b.o. of a
heroin casualty. Avalanche (who creates avalanches) is
just flat-out thuggy-looking. Even Mystique, who can
make herself look like anyone, wears the image of
the pinch-faced, bun-wearing schoolmarm in her
"Principal Darkholme" guise. All together now: good
equals attractive and cool, bad equals ugly and geeky.
What's more, all the attractive mutants and all the
ugly mutants are obligated to form gangs and learn to
throw down. Wow, it is high school!
But it's not necessarily a high school I'd want my
kids attending. And the X-Men aren't a gang with whom
I'd want my freakishly mutated child associating.
Despite the lip service the grownups give about
embracing one's individuality and appreciating the
gifts of others, the group dynamic at work among this
crowd is the same old hierarchy. In the comics and in
the film, Cyclops is the team's leader because of his
seriousness and strategic mind, but teen Cyclops has
neither. The psychic Jean Grey is more mature than he
is, and thirteen-year-old Kitty Pryde, who walks
through walls, is smarter. Cyclops is the leader
simply because he's the athletic white boy, the "big
brother" of the group, according to the show's
website. Moreover, his budding relationship with Jean
Grey, who's also a cheerleader, is the only one
possible for either of them -- Kitty's too young,
Spyke's black, Nightcrawler's blue, and Rogue has this
hangup about being touched (she absorbs people's
powers and memories through skin, whether she wants to
or not). In the comics, Cyclops and Jean Grey are
long-time lovers but at least have other options open
to them. In adolescent cartoon-land, even among
mutants, only the jock gets the pom-pom girl.
It's clear what the producers of X-Men: Evolution
are trying to do, and their ambition -- to present
these popular characters working through the trials
about to beset the pre-Clearasil crowd that makes up
their audience -- is admirable. What disappoints,
however, is the sheer number of missed opportunities
here and the decision to subscribe to the same old
social norms. As the people behind Buffy, the Vampire
Slayer have discovered, the unreal dynamic of
superheroes and unearthly creeps opens the door to a
great many situational possibilities that wouldn't
work in more traditional TV fare. If we can be
inspired by such bravery and daring from our heroes,
couldn't we find at least a little of the same in
their creators?