Monday, March 25, 2013

On Young Justice and Playing the Game



I polished off the last of Young Justice recently, and was happily impressed. Once it found its feet, the show had a strong arc, and improved immensely post-timeskip.

Finishing the second part of season two, I couldn't avoid the debate over the series not being renewed, and, having deliberately avoided any interviews or anything over at Greg Weisman's personal site, Ask Greg, I didn't know what to expect.

Fortunately, the ending wrapped up what it promised to, just with an opener for a new storyline tacked on to the very end. Could have been worse; could have been a lot worse. Many television series and films end with the "Or IS it?" moment, and I walked away satisfied.

But leading up to this finale, I saw many people on the Internet who blamed any theoretical failure to achieve closure on Greg Weisman. Weisman was trying too hard, they said. He shouldn't have come up with in-depth plans for his series, because they always get cancelled after two seasons. Television is fickle—can't he just dial it back? Make something smaller so it doesn't suffer when the axe falls?

Which is a terrible way to look at things. It's basically asking artists to hold back and not put effort into anything because—oops!—things might get cancelled. Asking artists to do this, especially on the basis of what-ifs, is asking everyone to be content with never pushing their boundaries, never planning for the future of their stories.

No.

Being cancelled/not renewed isn't the fault of Greg Weisman trying to "do too much", especially since whatever plans he had would have had no impact on what actually made it to air. Young Justice was a perfectly good series that had some bad luck, and asking for less effort wouldn't have changed that luck.

The problem with Young Justice disappearing is more about the principle than the loss of a definitive conclusion. As I said above, I'm fine with the ending we got. The problem is that it means dramatic, serialized animation keeps losing. I love many other current cartoons, but YJ was in a special category that needs more love.

Friday, March 22, 2013

So I Wrote a Fanfic

Curse of the Fly

"Back on Earth, FW Baxter Stockman might have one last chance to get what he wants—if only he could remember exactly what that was. Unfortunately, he's ended up in the abode of Barney Stockman, who might rather see him exterminated...until he sees something that he could also get out of the encounter. No Shredder, no Turtles, just mad science and one serious case of sibling rivalry. Updated and expanded from an earlier posted story."

So I wrote myself a White Baxter story, to give the little twit some closure.



Obviously, this is based on the old cartoon, and I shot for accuracy where it worked. But I gave myself license to be a little more twisted than the old cartoon when I felt the story called for it, so it's not a total 1:1 match. On the other hand, I tried never to write something "gritty and adult".

I always tell myself never to simply give my favourite character everything he or she wants, because that would be too boring and sappy, and hopefully I've kept that convention intact here.

And I didn't make up Barney Stockman: he's something that actually existed in the old cartoon, though the episode he was in was pretty terrible.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Dr. Chaplin




Least favourite TMNT character?

I may have some unkind words for Irma and April from the old cartoon, but Dr. Chaplin is a special kind of irritating. As a bonus, he's constantly drawn to/compared with characters I do like, and there's no shame in disliking him even more for that.

Dr. Chaplin is one of the few original characters created for the 2003 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon. Voiced by Sam Regal, he's a young scientist who came to work for the Foot by unknown means. Rather cheerful for a villain, he idolizes Dr. Baxter Stockman, and has a crush on Karai, the Shredder's adopted daughter.

Chaplin first makes his affection known by making "Amazonian Blade Bots", robots in Karai's likeness that will fight the Turtles. He asks her, "You don't mind, do you?  It's just that…well…I mean, you're just so…perfect."

Karai appears put off by this, and I can't blame her. It might seem like an earnest tribute from Chaplin, but it's also somebody using your likeness without your permission, someone that you barely know. It's creepy, and reminds me of Mike Sorayama and his Leslie Bots from The Venture Brothers: a guy who can't work up the courage to talk to a girl and so makes robot substitutes.

But when Karai succeeds to leadership of the Foot, Chaplin is always there as a loyal servant to his "Mistress Karai", and by the end of the fifth season, they've hooked up. It's never said in dialogue, but obvious by the way the two walk off into the sunset holding hands.

Chaplin is that kind of creepy, schlubby guy character who has a crush on a woman higher on the social ladder and "gets" her by. Which might be a nice example of "love conquers all", if it wasn't always about a guy getting a girl that's "out of his league".

This plot usually has the girl start out disdainful of the guy, but coming around and realizing he's not so bad after all. She is the one who must change to accept him, which is exactly what happens between Chaplin and Karai.

Furthermore, Karai's acceptance of Chaplin is framed by her inglorious defeat in battle, after spending so little time as a star villain. It suggests that Karai accepting Chaplin was also a window to living a new life, free of vengeance and indecision. The attraction between the two is valorized and glorified as the right direction for her, and Chaplin never gets comeuppance for his creepiness. She, like a lot of other female characters before her, isn't allowed to stay repelled by a suitor unless he's pure evil.

On the male side of things, Chaplin represents nothing flattering. He's the idea that a guy can be a servant to a woman instead of actually engaging with her, put her on a pedestal instead of treating her as a human being, and that that's the way to get into her pants. It's pretty gross on that end, too.

In short, Chaplin is a the Nice Guy who is loyal to a woman just on the passive hope she will start to see him as a romantic partner. He will never ask her directly, nor make his intentions clear, but always be there for her, and hope it will click. He wishes to gain a relationship through deception. Chaplin never told Karai he loved her, only trailed after her like a shadow, yet his wish was granted nonetheless.

What makes Chaplin my least favourite character is this connection to some very disturbing and ugly attitudes about gender. But his behaviour is also considered neutral or admirable, and we're supposed to love the creepy little hoser, so that makes it worse.

That, and he seems like one of those perpetually-happy guys that you would just hate so much in real life.

Chaplin would be my least favourite character anyway, but some things add to the problem. Firstly, he has hero worship for Dr. Baxter Stockman, who wants nothing to do with him. While Stockman is my favourite character in the show, what defines their relationship is the way Chaplin irritates him.

Chaplin might have given Stockman a new robot body, but Stockman could have gotten that from anywhere, and Chaplin remains oblivious to Stockman's dislike. He's an irritant to my favourite character, rather than a benefit, and that's another mark against him.

When Chaplin first appeared in the episode "New Blood", many fans said that Chaplin had a strong resemblance to the old cartoon's Baxter Stockman, aka "White Baxter", which sucks, since I like White Baxter.

But I really don't understand the comparison. Sure, they're both eager-to-please, high-voiced white nerds working for the Shredder, but Chaplin is much younger and more cheerful. His loyalty to the Foot and admiration for the other Stockman is also genuine, while Baxter is only ruled by fear and has no real loyalty.

Chaplin isn't actually brave, but he's also never presented as cowardly or treacherous the way Baxter is. I guess the qualities I first mentioned would be enough, but it seems like there should be more if so many people made the connection. Regardless, I won't like Chaplin because he's supposedly similar to a character I do like.

Ultimately, Chaplin is a creep. He brings a very disturbing aspect of modern popular culture into the Turtles' world, that of the creepy guy who gets the hot chick simply because the narrative demands it. There's other junk, but that's the core of it.

Monday, March 18, 2013

Feathered Dinosaurs





It has come to my attention recently that nerds hate feathered dinosaurs.

Not *all* nerds, obviously, but a lot of 'em. And why? Apparently because dinosaurs no longer look "cool" enough: they're "fluffy", they're "chickens", and most importantly, they don't look as cool as they did in "Jurassic Park".

I'm a casual dinosaur fan, but I am pro-feather aesthetics. Feathered saurians look both ferocious and adorable, and it dissolves the idea that dinosaurs are a symbol of obsolescence. They didn't die out because they weren't "good enough": they grew and changed and adapted and are still around today.

I still like the look of "classic" dinosaurs (or really, the style where they are reptilian but sleeker and more active, as inspired by the Robert T. Bakker school of thought), but I don't personally care that one style now is inaccurate to varying degrees.

I say "pro-feather aesthetics" because you can't be pro- or anti-dinosaur feathers: that's like saying you can be pro- or anti-gravity. One's aesthetic distaste for a scientific fact does not change its legitimacy, and you can't "decide" to accept it the way you accept or deny changes to a fictional character. It has already been decided by science: you don't have to *like* feathered dinosaurs, but they exist.

So, there's frequently an anti-science subtext to the hatred of feathered dinosaurs: the complaint is that science has "corrupted" dinosaurs, implying progress should not have happened. Paleontologists should never have dug deeper and found that dinosaurs beyond Archaeopteryx had feathers, or at least never spread it around, because it interferes with the popular image of dinosaurs.

It might not be what the anti-feather aesthetics folk intend to say, but how else would you "reclaim" dinosaurs but by denying what science has found? Pretending dinosaurs never had feathers is like pretending that cavemen rode them. Both have their pop culture appeal, but both can't be considered equal to legitimate science.

What's also eye-rolling is the way the presence of feathers is treated as an emasculation. It might be just me, but there's an ugly sense that by having feathers, dinosaurs have now been feminized, are no longer the scaly behemoths that little boys played with in the sandbox with, but are now (choke!) "girly".

Because of that, I'm reluctant to try to get the feather-haters to accept that feathered dinosaurs are "still badass". It's trying to play the game by the other person's rules, instead of just pointing out that animals are simply animals, not "manly" or "girly". Nor do scientifically-accurate depictions have to prove themselves, either.

It's also strange that others keep going back to Jurassic Park as the counter to feathered dinosaurs. "Jurassic Park" had great SFX and was a fun movie (though as I get older, the anti-science preaching becomes more annoying), but its dinosaurs are essentially movie monsters who run all over facts in the name of being cool.

And yeah, I'm fine with most of that (except the T-Rex's vision problems, which make no sense in all the wrong ways) *in a movie*. But to hold up these exaggerations of dinosaurs as the ideal counterpoint to modern science is insane. It's like saying werewolves are the "true" vision of wolves, and all those packs in the woods are just poseurs.

I've got no problem with preferring the "look" of reptilian dinosaurs, whether those dinosaurs are from the eighties or the eighteen hundreds. But turning that preference into a denial of science, or a defense of dinosaurs' implicit masculinity, doesn't work.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

I Emerge with a Complaint

I haven't been blogging much because I've been caught up in writing and trying once again to bring my life back in order. I just don't have the mojo right now. But in the meantime, enjoy this:

When the now-defunct comic company Dreamwave adapted episodes of the 2003 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series, they did so in an interesting way: they would tell side stories set during the early episodes, so that each of these episodes got extra details.

However, when it came to the third issue...guh. It opens with a monologue by Baxter Stockman that goes like this:

"THere's always a woman. Always, without exception, somewhere in the mix. That's who we do it for. Men are supposedly in charge. But if women ever realized how much they run things, we'd be dead. They chew away at us, night and day. They keep us off balance. And no matter how we insulate and protect ourselves..they still chew their way in. And they somehow know just how to get to you. How to tear into you, find that which is most valuable...and swallow it whole."

The monologue is juxtaposed over some Mousers chewing their way into a bank to rob it.

Stockman, what would your mother think?!

I know that plenty of real-life guys have this attitude, usually neckbeards with a persecution complex. It's the kind of thought that, sadly, not only a man could have, but it's complete bullshit either way. Anybody with half a working brain can look at history and see how wrong and insulting that view is.

To have it worm its way into a children's comic is just...disgusting. Worse when it's spoken by my favourite character in the series.

Now, I never shy away from Stockman's flaws, but this simply doesn't ring true. First because it comes from a series for chlidren that barely acknowledges sex, beyond "boys and girls like each other", so it seems out of place for something vomited up from the bowels of the Internet to show up in it.

Second, I think Stockman would view himself as above such "mortal" concerns. The guy's got one hell of an ego, and if Stockman hasn't actually gotten rid of any issues he had as a teenager, he sure would pretend to himself that he has. He'd block it out and pretend he was Mr. Perfect. He wouldn't still be chewing over his crappy high school life.

Which is what this comic issue amounts to, by the way. A flashback to Stockman's teen-hood where he was the usual picked-on nerd, and making devices to get even with the bullies and jocks. To add to the creep factor, li'l Stockman had a crush on a girl named April, who dated one of the boys who bullied him, and it's implied to be the reason he hired April O'Neil to work with him.

(And we're supposed to believe the Shredder recruited Stockman right out of high school?)

And this was written by Peter David, of all people...*the* Peter David. Everything else Stockman does and says is perfectly in-character, with the right amount of pomposity and cheese, so I don't know what went wrong there.

And the artwork is terrible. Seriously, look at this:



Stockman might be an awful person in many ways, but he's not creepy in that specific way. I'm just going to block this out, like the way I blocked out the fact that Transformers: Kiss Players takes place during my favourite era of G1.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Fred Wolf Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Series in Review (Most of It)





The old Fred Wolf Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon seems to be a polarizing thing among people my age: many either think it's the worst thing in the world or the best thing, with the latter stating that all faults can be excused by the series' ironic tone.

After rewatching a selection of episodes throughout the run, and then almost the whole thing, I'm in the middle. If asked to choose firmly, I would say I like the FW show, but there's so much that's flawed I can't say that without squirming.

When the Fred Wolf show is fun, it's sweet, and when it's bad, it's toxic. There's only a handful of episodes that I enjoy enough as an adult to watch again, but I like these episodes. It's the rest that give me trouble.

So, you know the thing. It's about the title mutants, and everything else. I've read and seen a lot more Turtles material than this, but I'll never be able to hate the Fred Wolf show for being a toned-down version of the original comics. My main question is how the Fred Wolf show holds up as a thing onto itself, how successful it is at what it's actually trying to be.

And it's usually not. An ironic tone is one of the hardest things to get right, and even though TMNT is an ironic series, there's also a big lack of effort, with a lot of recycled plot devices and characters who only take an episode or two to grasp, before they start doing the same thing over and over again. Sometimes the episodes do hit the mark and become very funny, but not often enough.

But that's not to say the characters aren't likable. One of the reasons the Turtles franchise has done so well is because it gives viewers/readers four distinct protagonists that can catch the eye of a wide range of potential fans. You can choose any Turtle, and you'll see a lot of mileage gotten out of them.

I think Donatello was my favourite Turtle at one point, since I dressed up as him for Halloween in grade school, and I tend to love my fellow nerds (out of solidarity). These days, however, I don't have a favourite Turtle. I have nothing against the Turtles, there's something to like in all of them—I just can't pick one above the others, or even say I have a strong emotional attachment to any of them.

I don't say this to be "cool", just that that's how it happened. When it comes to the Fred Wolf show, Donnie is just too perfect, always inventing something to save the day. I don't like perfect characters unless they have nostalgic cachet, and Donnie just doesn't have enough. He's not a bad character, but I'm just not into him.

Raphael is the least like other versions of Raph, but as an adult, I love it when Fred Wolf Raphael acts like he's also had enough of the series' bullshit, and he's often the source of genuine laughs. I like Fred Wolf Raphael better like that, than any of the episodes that pretend he's a merry prankster rather than a wry cynic. But still, not my favourite Turtle.

Michelangelo is a dumb pseudo-stoner, but you know, he's a sweet guy. I wish his potential role as the "heart" of the Turtles was played up more.

It's annoying when anyone says Leonardo, and characters like him, don't have "a personality" simply because they're not vivacious enough. Leo does have a personality, and I've got a weakness for stoics and fussbudgets. However, I'll agree that Leo gets the most Captain Obvious lines, at the expense of showing his actual personality.

But, for me, there's a difference between liking a character and appreciating a character. Liking means you not only enjoy the character, but have some gut feeling this is "your" character, one that you're attached to in some way. So while I appreciate the Turtles, I don't "like" them, at least not at this point. But they are enough to carry a series, and a franchise.

The same thing's true for the main villains of the story: they're very funny characters, but I get tired of them eventually after I've seen all their moves.

All those parodies are right on: Krang and Shredder are totally the old married couple, and Krang is the one who wears the "pants"—I love watching him mock and belittle Shredder. It's hilarious for a good while, and something that keeps the series distinct. Shredder is such a dumb twit, and Krang isn't actually much smarter, but their bickering is one of the pleasures of the show.

Bebop and Rocksteady are morons, but we also knew that too. Honestly, when it comes to this version of the story, we don't need them to be cooler, stronger villains: they're great as bumbling comics. However, with their brief pretence to being threatening, sometimes it'd be good to have them be more competent than the Turtles, but still comical.

But again, they do almost the exact same thing in every episode, so you have to comb through for the standout moments, or wait for them to come around. An actual liking for a character can beat back the spectre of redundancy, but eventually even that starts to wear you down.

For example, there's Splinter, whom I left out above because he's different. He's a goddamn legit childhood icon, though I can still keep my head above water when discussing him, see outside that fact. But as a tyke, everything Ninja Turtles usually had to do with Splinter in one way or another.

I don't quite know what it was about him, whether my liking for rats and for intelligent characters was started by Splinter, or that he appealed to interests that were already there. Regardless, my lower brain that reveres Splinter in an odd way, thinking of him as a boss, a badass, and maybe the only smart character in the show. I also like his design, even if he doesn't look like the other rats in the series.

Yet, my rational side tells me that Splinter is as repetitive a character as the rest, and his wisdom consists of trite and obvious observations, and that's when it's actually practical and not fake "Asian wisdom".

(Also, I can't unsee the fact that this series treats Japan and Yoshi's history as if all of it were like medieval Japan, which other versions don't do. It annoys me for some reason.)

(Second also: I realize that Splinter usually doesn't call the Turtles "my sons" in this show, but he still seems very fatherly to me. I can't get on board with the idea that they have a more distant, formal relationship in the FW show.)

After episode upon episode of the same thing, even my interest in Splinter starts to wear down, and I focus on his standout moments, when he has a greater stake in the conflict or actually steps into it. And then I'm attached to Splinter again. Follow the rat.

Among the main characters, that leaves April O'Neil. I was neutral towards April growing up, not yet finding it meaningful to identify with female characters and be disappointed at what you got. These days, jeez, I dislike her.

My first problem with April was that she was hard to define as a character—her bravery or timidity came and went depending on the situation, and whether she was nice or harsh also changed rapidly. After a while longer, I realized the main problem was that April is a go-getter, but her initiative is only rewarded with being a victim, being kidnapped by whoever she seeks out. And then, she's a victim most of the time anyway.

And that's fucked up. April doesn't have to be a ninja or a mutant to be interesting or strong, but the idea that her desire for some hot news only leads to being threatened and kidnapped reads like, "Well, she shouldn't have left the kitchen because look what happened". It's just a tiny bit disturbing.

It would be better if April's constant failures were played for laughs, but they aren't, at least not in the sense that April is treated like a female Wile E. Coyote. The jokes are that she's kidnapped because it's her standard role in the script, not because it means she's leading a terrible life or is seen as a stupid character.

Many guys in my generation see April as a vixen, the Jessica Rabbit of Saturday morning. I have no idea why—she doesn't act sultry at all, and that jumpsuit is pretty silly-looking. The mysteries of life, I guess.

Another thing about April's life is that she has one outside of the Turtles, to an extent—her co-workers at Channel 6 are regular characters in the series. I like this idea in principle, because it makes a world richer to have the secondary characters without lives that revolve around the mains (though I also have no idea what kids actually like or what, and don't factor that into the equation), but Burne, Vernon, and Irma are insufferable.

Irma is the one I like the least, and I dislike her more than April. I expected to find some awkward-girl solidarity with Irma, but instead we got an animated Cathy, constantly worried about men, her figure, and anything else women are "supposed" to worry about. Aack! She seems like a rip-off of Janine Melnitz, but without Janine's shrewdness or backbone.

Like April, Irma's flaws seem not to be ones created "for" her character, but just following this idea of what female characters are expected to be like. They're not funny characters onto themselves, but just stereotypes and treated as the norm for their gender, instead of examples of someone who is severely messed up or unlucky.

I support, endorse, etc. flawed female characters. But I want them to have personal flaws, instead of just being "Women, am I right?" types of characters, whose faults are simply because they are female. That's what April and Irma are like.

Irma's only saving grace is in later seasons, when she starts making caustic comments towards Vernon, but it's not enough by that point. Really not.

Burne's not so bad, except for the times they try to rip off J. Jonah Jameson with him. Except for that one time, when I can totally believe he did it just to impress his ditzy younger girlfriend.

Vernon, of course, is an idiot and a coward and I don't like him, but at least he's treated like a flawed character. And he's used as a device to pretend that the constantly-exasperated April and Irma are strong individuals, but it's just a sham.

I can imagine someone calling me contradictory for deriding April and Irma for being weak, because besides Splinter, my other favourite character in the Fred Wolf show is Baxter Stockman, who is, yes, cowardly and foolish almost always. But Baxter suffers for his faults, and they seem like part of his individual character. It also helps that there are male characters to contrast him with, while Irma and April are the lone female regulars.

I've said a lot about White Baxter before: I was uninterested as a kid, but now his terrible life is weirdly funny to me, I hate myself for liking a whitewashed character, I prefer him as a human, and I don't see him as an innocent victim. All of that's still true.

I'm actually glad that Baxter didn't appear in more episodes. After seeing how tiring it can be to like a regular character in this show, I prefer Baxter's small number of appearances, and that he doesn't stick to one formula for long: timid inventor to mad, simpering henchman to mutant fly acting on his own to dumber mutant fly in an ambiguous relationship with a computer. I'm not satisfied with everything regarding the character, but I appreciate that he's kept fresh.

I have a soft spot for some of the other cast members. Maybe it's irritating to have a "real" character like Casey Jones be transformed into a one-trick nutbar, but he's a very funny one-trick nutbar, especially because, yes, he doesn't get overused. Likewise, when the Rat King is being more creepy weirdo than regular megalomaniac, he's pretty fun.

I was more generous towards "Raphael Meets His Match" the second time, liking the character of Mona Lisa a bit more. Sure, she's still a generic heroine with some shades of self-insert, but at least she's a female character with a backbone, and a lizard girl is still pretty cool. The TMNT franchise has a problem with female characters always being normal humans, which suggests that women can't be "ugly", so I cheer on every female mutant, even if they attract creepy furries.

And this probably doesn't count as a preference for an individual character, but I found that Barney Stockman is growing on me. Yeah, he's in a terrible episode and used for one single lazy joke, but the idea of Baxter having a twin brother who's more confident and competent but is also batshit crazy is funny to me for some reason.

Hell, I even have a soft spot for Baxter's computer "friend", because of the hilarity involved in that relationship. Though I can't fully commit to an interpretation of as to whether that computer is using Baxter or not.

The episodes I want to watch again depend on a lot of different things. They are the ones with my favourite characters, or the ones with a cool monster or concept, and/or the ones that manage to be as wonderfully ridiculous as the series is capable of.

That there's such a small number of them isn't because I don't "get" what the show is trying to be, but that it often can't hit that sweet spot of being so insane it's fun, or so bad it's good. These things are hard for any media to achieve, and in the case of this show, the misses can be cringe-inducing.

This is an action-comedy show, heavier on the comedy. Anybody who believes otherwise has distorted childhood memories, or just doesn't want to believe. The Fred Wolf Ninja Turtles show is supposed to be silly and goofy, with moments of peril being on par with the Adam West Batman show. Yeah, it becomes goofier over time, then there's those generic Red Sky seasons, but it's never without silliness.

Now, the comedic aspect of the Fred Wolf series helps to give it some distinction among the cartoons of its time. In principle, I appreciate it for this. However, I think The Real Ghostbusters is superior to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when it comes to balancing the two tones. TRGB had better jokes, and moments of earnest emotion/darkness, which give it the advantage.

Furthermore, its craziness was more original, not to mention its satire bit slightly harder. Of course, this refers to TRGB in its early years, before executive meddling set in, but its best can easily compete with TMNT's best.

So while the Fred Wolf show can be good, it's not the best of its sub-genre. While I appreciate what it's trying to do, it doesn't do it to the fullest. There are so many howlers and groaners and facepalm-inducing moments that it makes the series hard to take in large doses.

As the series goes on, there's also what I can call a "loosening". Characters and situations get more idotic and bizarre, and the plots seem to lose more of their focus. As more and more time goes on, the repetition becomes obvious.

All of this can't be excused by saying, "It was supposed to be funny". Even the most ironic-minded media occasionally does things in earnest, and I can't see all the faults of this show being intentional. Sometimes, writers just have to pump out scripts really fast, and the results could often be crappy and repetitive.

Humour can also become a crutch when a recurring joke is pointing out a series' flaws. That joke can work the first or the second time, but after a while, it starts to seem like a substitute for making effort to improve. TMNT does this a lot, and it wears out, too.

If I'm being harsh, it's only with love. I can't adopt a pose of total ironic detachment towards this show, because I have an earnest affection to it. I make these critiques because I care, and I think it could have done better. There is a sense of quality that transcends a work's tone, and just because a series is a goofy comedy, doesn't mean it can't take the effort to be good.

The idea of making the series honestly darker, or sharper, or more action-oriented is a little heartbreaking—the 4Kids series is already that, and it's great, but I'd want the Fred Wolf show to keep its distinct tone.

Instead, I want it to have been better at what it's trying to be, not totally re-imagined. Because there's a gem of an idea in playing a series into a comedy, and even the Mirage comics could be very tongue-in-cheek.

Then there are the "Red Sky" seasons, the last twenty-four episodes of the show, spread out across three seasons. This is not the type of dark retool I was talking about, though many older fans try to treat it as one. It's just a lazy retool, to pretend the series is "keeping up with the times".

In the Red Sky seasons, the series is drawn differently. The Turtles look more angular, April has a brown jacket over a green shirt, and some other junk. The nickname itself comes from the backgrounds showing a perpetual red night.

The theme song also has a "hardcore" remix, and includes footage from the live-action films from the live-action film for some reason. A few of the tinier silly things are cut, like the Turtles no longer eating weird pizza, or Krang's android body not appearing until the final episode.

But, no, this retool isn't actually darker. Imagine all the forgotten generic action cartoons from your childhood, and you've got the new tone. The plots aren't as weird as the weirdest of the first seven seasons, but they are familiar to cartoon viewers, meaning the stories are nothing notable.

Furthermore, the characters act largely the same, including Raphael being oh so sassy, and April being regularly kidnapped. The main difference is that the old villains are toned down. The Shredder's tantrums aren't as enormous, and he hardly bickers with Krang. Yes, Shredder blew up the Channel 6 building, but he otherwise doesn't seem like a darker or smarter villain at all, just less goofy. And it's boring, especially without James Avery to voice him.

The Rat King, when he reappears, is also just an ordinary villain without his distinctive craziness. Again, not actually darker, just blander. So is Casey Jones, who is still rugged, but not nutty. It's a major problem with these seasons, taking away many of the show's distinct parts and leaving nothing in its place, while not improving the writing or continuity.

However badly the series could botch its attempts to be funny, however stupid the characters could be, at least that gave the seasons one-seven their distinct flavour. The way to improve it would not have been to try to shave away the goofiness and do nothing else, but to refine what was already there. Instead, we just have a diminished show.

Of course, most viewers remember the Red Sky seasons for their new cast members: the Turtles' new sidekick, Carter (voiced by Bumper Robinson) and the new major villain, Lord Dregg (voiced by Tony Jay). But before they appear, the series screws around with various potential new characters and villains, introducing new aliens and vehicles before settling on things.

None of these new characters are interesting or really shake up their world, and soon disappear. Carter is a slightly better character because there's more to him, but he's still uninteresting. I hate to say this about the only positive black character in the entire series, but Carter reads like a self-insert character. He shows up out of nowhere and knows about Master Splinter, gets trained by him, manages to make the initially hostile Turtles eat crow, and gets superpowers.

Yes, okay, Carter has some transformation angst, as "mutant" has been re-defined to refer to just weird monsters created by science, and he can Hulk out into a yellow-skinned cyborg behemoth that doesn't look like any kind of animal. But god, it's a bland angle, especially when the cast is full of permanently mutated humans who never get to change back.

Lord Dregg is worse, because he's just a generic villain who makes the same mistakes that generic villains do. You can have your villain with no other motivation than to be evil, but he has to have some elegance, some power and intelligence to him or her. And boy, Dregg doesn't have any of it.

Like many nineties kids, I grew up hearing Tony Jay's dulcet voice as many different villains, but he brings only bring brief moments of panache and gravitas to Dregg. There's something mulled about Jay's performance here, that I can't put into concrete terms.

Oh, and Dregg's character design is awful, some kind of blue dog-bug thing in a patchwork outfit. It's in good company with all of the new creature and alien designs, which look assembled from parts of better ones. Before Dregg makes his debut, the series throws out several more potential villains who are all as generic. So, yeah, nothing special here.

Red Sky also tries to throw in more conflicts, as Dregg presents himself as a saviour to humanity and tries to cast the Turtles as villains, or the Turtles start feeling persecuted and revert to hating humans, but that lasts the emotional equivalent of three seconds. The Turtles also start randomly mutating into spiked monsters, but that really has no impact or meaning, either.

All of this is just executive meddling, making the least amount of effort to make an aged series relevant again. Someone must have looked at the popularity of Batman: TAS and other cartoons and thought being "dark" made these series successful. Not understanding that it's quality, not tone, that makes a series good. A Hip New Sidekick and a Cool New Villain don't save a thing when there is no real effort involved.

The Red Sky seasons aren't a radical change or any improvement in quality. They're about as "intense" as the first season of the show, and just throw in a bunch of new junk to pretend that series is keeping up with the times, while never fixing any of the series' actual problems. It's the equivalent of having Dagwood use an iPad.

Yes, there is a finale of sorts. Dregg gets defeated, Splinter says the Turtles are now his equals, and some hilariously strange stuff actually happens, coaxing out the laughs that had disappeared. But at this point, the series is no longer worth caring about, and didn't really build up to a climax anyway. The only place to go is backwards.

So here's how it works: I like the 1987 TMNT show when I do, when it's enjoyable. I like the vermin of usual size, and the episodes when they hit that particular personal mark. I'm a fan. But when it comes to percentages, I don't enjoy the large majority of the almost two hundred episodes. At some point, they just get tiring.

Oh, and Turtles Forever was neither lying nor mean-spirited. I already established this in a previous review, but I should repeat it: just because a series pokes fun at another, doesn't mean it's trying to cut it down. The FW characters got to save the universe, and they really would be outclassed by a beings from a more serious universe. It's all in good fun.