Essays (wip): Hashirama and Madara, Nancy Drew, The Blues Brothers, [more tbd].
Hashirama and Madara |
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I’ll start this meta by examining this line from reanimated Hashirama (in the present) describing the aftermath of the fallout between himself and Madara: “He decided to completely erase his friend, to erase me from his life.” The main thing that this shows us about Hashirama is that during the “trap/scram” confrontation where Hashirama and Madara part ways as childhood friends, Hashirama does not yet fully understand the central conflict of Madara’s character. Hashirama may have accepted, for the time being, that Madara can no longer be his friend, but the thought of the future village that he and Madara have committed to building keeps him focused and determined, for the simple fact that he and Madara are doing it together. Hashirama doesn’t comprehend how Madara could choose Izuna over the dream that he had thought he and Madara shared, because in Hashirama’s mind, the village benefits everybody, Izuna included. Hashirama has a major blind spot: he is determined to a fault, and once he gets his mind set on something, regardless of his circumstances or surroundings, he will pursue it. Another example of this blind spot is Hashirama’s outburst during Kawarama’s funeral. Obviously, Butsuma hitting him was inexcusable, but Hashirama was technically out of line, tactlessly shouting and making a scene during a sensitive moment. So, when Madara renounces his and Hashirama’s friendship, Hashirama makes one last plea to Madara: “You haven’t really given up on [our dream], have you?” It’s a sincere question, but Hashirama must understand that there’s no way Madara will be able to respond the way he wants; he’s got Tajima watching and Izuna’s life on the line. The only option for Madara in this situation is to make a swift retreat. Hashirama’s description, “he decided to erase me from his life,” is a (potentially willful) misinterpretation of Madara’s intentions, one which does not acknowledge that Madara sacrificed his friendship with Hashirama to de-escalate what could have quickly turned into a three-against-three battle, and more specifically turned Tajima’s and Butsuma’s attention away from Tobirama and Izuna, both of whom were in immediate and direct danger of being killed for some quick leverage. In addition, if you read the scene this way, this could also be the first instance of Madara sacrificing his own “social standing” to save people he cares about, a pattern of behavior that would ultimately culminate in his enacting the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Madara is willing to be disliked or seen as the enemy to spare the lives of his loved ones. This is Madara’s own blind spot, though. He takes responsibility for those around him in an unhealthy way to the point of developing a savior complex, believing that he alone can carry the burden of liberating all shinobi from the pain of their existence. Anyway, Madara and Hashirama part ways and then pull their punches for 15+ years. There is a huge difference in the way they fight before and after Izuna dies. Before Izuna dies, they appear to casually exchange blows; Madara leaves himself wide open to an attack when he sees Izuna get mortally wounded, but Hashirama doesn’t take the opportunity to land a hit on him - he even throws down his sword and makes it clear that he has no intention of fighting further. Compare this to their battle after Izuna’s death, when they are practically launching nukes at each other. Backtracking here to talk about what I’d argue is the most pivotal Madara moment in the entire series, one which connects all the way back to the childhood stone skipping. The stones are not just stones, they are ideals; and Hashirama effortlessly gets his stone across the river, while it takes Madara a few tries to achieve the same result. We see this dynamic reflected throughout the series: Hashirama and Madara continually get on and off the same page, over and over again, both trying to complete each other’s dreams and complement each other’s worldviews, while approaching these dreams from two different and sometimes diametrically opposed directions. Again: the stones are not just stones, and we know this because they are the objects used to deflect Butsuma and Tajima’s killing blows. In a single instant, Hashirama and Madara save their younger brothers’ lives and sacrifice their dreams for the future at the same time. But while Hashirama immediately rebounds and has his aforementioned outburst, Madara does not. He accepts defeat and decides that Izuna and the village cannot coexist. Madara has created this dichotomy where Hashirama has not: he has to choose either the village or Izuna; Hashirama or Izuna. (Maybe he doesn’t deserve both.) Hashirama and Madara both have hangups. Where Hashirama gets single-minded and has tunnel vision about the village, Madara has the same problem with Izuna. And in the one pivotal moment where Madara has the opportunity to save Izuna’s life by explicitly accepting Hashirama’s worldview, he can’t do it. Madara chooses to honor Izuna’s wishes and not give in to the Senju’s request for a ceasefire; he chooses Izuna’s honor over Izuna’s well-being; and, indeed, Izuna’s honor over the well-being of the Uchiha clan as a whole, who (following Madara’s abandonment of them on the battlefield) surrender and defect to the Senju en masse anyway. Every decision Madara makes is centered around keeping Izuna safe and alive, but there’s a contradictory selfishness to it (maybe selfishness is harsh; it’s selflessness as a way of deflecting a paralyzing magnitude of guilt and blame), because Madara has severe self-worth issues stemming from the loss of his other brothers, and if he loses his last brother, he has nothing left to live for. Madara is terrified: he has to save Izuna, because if he doesn’t, he is completely worthless. After Izuna dies, Madara is the one on the offensive, launching the aforementioned nukes - the first time he has actually gone all out against Hashirama. He’s using the Susano’o; he’s shouting, angry, grieving, destructive, and doesn’t care who he hurts: Uchiha and Senju members alike are both caught in the crossfire; clans are meaningless to Madara now that Izuna is dead. This time, Hashirama’s strategy is all about de-escalation. He tries to put Madara to sleep with the pollen and continues trying to appeal to Madara’s humanity, even when everyone else acts as if there is no chance of reaching him. Tobirama (moving in to make the killing blow): Madara, you’re finished.
I think Madara had always somewhat expected things to end up like this, just because so much of his character from the beginning was motivated by fear of losing his last brother. I believe that Madara was completely ready to die here, but Hashirama refused to do the act, which resulted in Madara’s ultimatum: “Either kill your brother or kill yourself right now.” I would argue that Madara hoped that Hashirama would take the third option and say “no, I’ll do neither of these things, I guess I really do need to kill you after all” (Madara knew Hashirama wouldn’t kill Tobirama, and he obviously didn’t want Hashirama to die because the second Hashirama tried to kill himself, Madara stopped him). But Madara makes a severe miscalculation here and completely underestimates how little self worth Hashirama actually has. Hashirama has never been at a disadvantage like Madara was; he always just barely had the upper hand in everything from conversation to combat: Hashirama is the one whose stone crossed first; Hashirama is the one who was still standing at the end of their spars while Madara was on the ground. And yet, in that moment as a result of Madara’s ultimatum, Hashirama is ready to discard his advantage completely. The suicide attempt is Hashirama’s response, 15+ years too late, to Madara’s “Maybe it just isn’t possible for us to reach that pipe dream [village] of ours.” This is not to say that Hashirama didn’t value his brothers too, but I would argue that this scene implies that Hashirama believes in himself and his dream so strongly not because he considers himself to be a particularly good shinobi but rather because Madara, at one point, had believed in him too. Deep down, more than anything, Hashirama really, really, really wants Madara to like him. He is admired and liked by the Senju clan and eventually by the Hidden Leaf Village when that comes to be, but the person whose respect and admiration he really truly yearns for is Madara’s, because Madara was the very first person to understand Hashirama and take him seriously. Everybody else in Hashirama’s life up to that point had ridiculed him or shut him down or questioned him when he said that the Shinobi world was “totally messed up.” Hashirama was completely ready to die for Madara’s sake that day because in his mind, the village was for Madara before it was for anyone else, including (maybe most especially) himself. In that moment, Hashirama looked at all of his options and decided that the most impactful role he could possibly play would be to die for the sake of Madara’s future village. This brings us all the way back to “he decided to completely erase me from his life”. This is devastating to Hashirama, just as Izuna’s death is devastating to Madara. Madara could not understand how Izuna could fit into Hashirama’s dream for the future, while Hashirama could not understand how Izuna couldn’t fit into that dream, because they are both that stubborn. Also, a little addendum. In his final conversation with Hashirama before they both die, Madara in no way admits that Hashirama was right, or vice versa. Madara has always viewed his own Infinite Tsukuyomi as an extension of Hashirama’s village system: he states outright that his objective is to continue Hashirama’s “failed experiment.” But he and Hashirama ultimately both come to the same conclusion in this conversation, which is this: in trying to accomplish everything themselves, they not only endangered but also stole agency from future generations, who became saddled with the problems of the village system that quickly grew too large for any one person to feasibly solve. Hashirama recognizes that society keeps progressing regardless of whether or not you are in it; you do what you can while you’re alive, and try to pass on good will and respect and camaraderie and love to those who will inherit society after you: there is no end; all we have is means, if you will. Society is the real villain of Naruto but it’s also not; it’s a double edged sword, an immutable fact of existence. Shinobi are those who endure; shinobi are stand-ins for ordinary human beings in the Naruto universe; Naruto is about people putting aside their differences to work together for the betterment of society. We belong to society whether we want to or not. We can try to sever ties and self-isolate, but ultimately no man is an island; we depend on each other regardless of whether we want to or not. We cannot change the fact that society exists and will always exist. Madara is not saying that Hashirama was right to form the village; he’s only saying that maybe it’s better to work to improve society from within it, rather than to willingly exclude oneself from it in order to reshape it in one’s image. Madara acknowledges that you have to belong to the collective in order to properly and meaningfully use the collective’s power to enact lasting structural changes; it can’t be done except from within society itself. But Madara says he would have failed to do this anyway because he never meaningfully belonged to a collective like Hashirama did, or he didn’t feel that he belonged - functionally the same thing (“I always hated someone standing behind me”), even though Hashirama’s society was imperfect and his will was ultimately exploited for the sake of human greed and militarism. And they both understand this and each other, and die peacefully knowing that it’s up to future generations now. Naruto (the character) starts out the way Madara ends up. He is hated, shunned, and ostracized by the village, and gradually begins to belong as people begin to acknowledge him, and he tries over and over (endures, if you will) to extend that same sense of belonging (in society - however imperfect it is) to his best friend. And in the Naruto universe, that is what it means to be a shinobi. |

The Blues Brothers |
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The Blues Brothers opens with a series of aerial shots of the city of Chicago blanketed in haze and smog, and for the first few minutes of the film everything feels very grim, gritty, and bleak. The first humans we see are shot from high above, eliminating any potential variation we might perceive in their appearance, made even more extreme in the shots’ context: these are all inmates at Joliet Prison, working out in unison, or marching in very strict, straight lines. The shots here highlight geometry, especially rectangles and squares, and the imagery is monochrome, in a way that is almost post-apocalyptic, or hyper-authoritarian. The first glimpses we see of Jake and the guards reflect this impersonal brutality; we don’t yet see Jake’s face, and while Jake and the guards walk in time with each other, the tone still manages to be serious. Here the film says: yes, maybe the world has a natural rhythm, but when you are incarcerated, your natural rhythm is stolen and appropriated. What purer form of exploitation is there than giving your body and your time in “service of the State,” as Jake describes it at Chez Paul? Only when Jake gets out of prison and – crucially – reunites with his brother Elwood do we get the first musical number, “Katy,” which is non-diegetic; the characters don’t experience the music yet, but the audience does. The film came out in 1980, but I don’t consider it an 80s film because the 80s hadn’t happened yet. There is a push and pull in The Blues Brothers between organization and chaos, and what that means for jazz and blues, which had once dominated popular music and culture, but what was by the late 1970s a declining art form. At the same time, disco – the ubiquitous and dominant form of popular music at the time – had begun to fall from popular favor (e.g. the “Disco Sucks” movement, backlash to the popularity of “Saturday Night Fever,” Disco Demolition Night) and was increasingly criticized as being consumerist and mindless. (You could argue that disco represents the opposite of the blues in this film, which might get into some interesting arguments about the interplay between predominantly black art forms becoming commodified and commercialized over time to appeal to a broader, whiter audience.) We see this same mindless consumerism reflected in the way that certain American cultural landmarks of the 1960s and ‘70s like Howard Johnson’s, Holiday Inn, and Trailways are characterized with a kind of dark irony (HoJo’s getting blown up with the flamethrower, “Welcome Exterminators” at the Holiday Inn, Murph and the Magic Tones being laughed at for their “candy-ass monkey suits” at the Armada Room). Even outside of the gloomy, depressing America portrayed in the film, we have stories from the set of Cab Calloway initially being wary of performing a classic 1930s version of Minnie the Moocher, and instead wanting to do a more modernized version of it, before finally being convinced (by, I believe, John Landis?) to go with the original. Essentially, in The Blues Brothers, disco : the American establishment : the death of self-determination and free will. Maurie reports that the clubs that the band used to play at before Jake went to prison (a mere 3 years ago) have all become discos now, so the Blues Brothers Band coming back together after being forcefully separated because of the prison system is a radical act. We see the culmination of Blues itself (here straddling the line between “repetitive; easy for newcomers to grasp” and “repetitive; limitless grounds for improvisation and self expression”) vs the State (mindlessly following orders; going along to the rhythm not out of an innate desire to do so but because it is mandated by the times, and the men in charge) during the final chase scene and especially when a coalition of SWAT teams, helicopters, tanks, nazis, police, soldiers, and cowboys – basically every manifestation of American “unnecessary force” – close in on the brothers (with varying degrees of success). Compare the overhead shots of SWAT teams rappelling into Daley Plaza to the opening scene in Joliet prison with its aerial shots of uniformed, incarcerated men moving in unison. While Jake, Elwood, and the rest of the band end up back in jail for the finale, this time they bring the music in with them and spread it to the rest of the inmates. Using Jake’s metaphor: they are the “backbone, the nerve centre of a great rhythm and blues band.” Jazz is characterized as something close to a living entity in this film; it represents the collective, and by extension the good that comes from organizing together, recognizing yourself in other people and other people in yourself. I’d argue that the thesis of the film is stated outright during the “Everybody Needs Somebody to Love” number, by Elwood himself: “No matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive, and survive, there’s still some things that make us all the same: you, me, [regarding the police] them.” You could maybe argue that Elwood is saying that you can choose to be a police officer or a nazi or whatever, but at the end of the day we’re all still human, and it’s never too late to reach within yourself and find your humanity and redemption through music. Indeed, by the end of “Jailhouse Rock” the entire prison has come alive with the rhythm of the song: compare this to the opening scene where the prisoners are moving in rhythm, but not in a joyful way that reflects their own humanity. |
