Skip to main content

The Playful Spirit of Nimona’s Queer Cyberpunk Fantasy


It’s been a long time since Netflix has actually saved a project. Nimona, an adaptation of the popular teen graphic novel by N.D. Stevenson, was originally set to be produced by Blue Sky Animation. But then Blue Sky was acquired by Disney as part of the Fox merger, and its development was consistently reshaped and delayed until the axing of Blue Sky itself brought an end to the project. It was also the movie at the centre of those allegations last spring by former Blue Sky animators that was met with consistent push-back and micromanaging from Disney’s upper brass over its heavy LGBTQ themes. Fortunately, Netflix in conjunction with Annapurna Pictures, picked it up after Disney dropped it and allowed its LGBTQ character to remain unabated, with both explicit and implicit queer couplings being central to the plot and an overarching theme of noticeable queer subtext driving the last act of the film.
It’s also a shame that Netflix picked it up, as in typical Netflix fashion they dropped it on their streaming service with little to no fanfare, destined to be buried under the mountain of content on that platform. It’s what happened to Entergalactic, and this movie, which employed the same animation company, is the kind designed to reach a wide audience of kids.
Nimona’s got a very Nickelodeon/Cartoon Network sensibility to it -it reminded me at times of both Legend of Korra and Steven Universe- and it’s unsurprising given its creator, Stevenson, was the showrunner of Netflix’s own Nickelodeon-inspired She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. The world of the movie is an aesthetic mixture of science-fiction and fantasy, as full of high-tech machinery and digital technology as it is of swords and magic and long-standing orders of feudal classes. Though the Elite Knights of this kingdom are all descended from a collective of knights who fought off a great beast centuries ago. It’s a very big deal that the common-born Ballister Boldheart (voiced by Riz Ahmed) is about to be knighted. Only a sabotage at his ceremony results in him being framed for the death of the Queen. In the pursuit of clearing his name, he is joined by an outcast shapeshifter girl called Nimona (voiced by Chloë Grace Moretz), who takes it upon herself to be his sidekick.
Their odd couple dynamic is pretty standard for this genre: he’s stiff and serious and she’s the chaotic, irreverent goofball -there’s such a pair in each of the cartoon shows I cited. It’s not very strongly developed, the core of their relationship being rather nebulous and purely plot-driven, but Moretz and Ahmed manage to work off each other in the voice booth, as well as the animation doing its part to illustrate sharply their contrast. And the movie overall has a real teen punk sensibility, the writing lending itself well to a vibe of manic impulsivity (mostly coming from Nimona) when not to a particular cadence of humour that feels kind of formless when not formulaic. Still, there’s some wit to be had, and some good jokes within the animation -which is highly expressive.
I don’t generally go for this type of stylized computer animation where 3D models are sort of flattened into a vaguely hand-drawn look, but still with the textures and dimensions of CG -seen in shows like RWBY or The Dragon Prince that look like video games. And there definitely are bits of Nimona that look kind of poor in the same way, particularly in some of the character motion and shading. But the movie leans enough into the cartoonish physical attributes of its characters that this animation style never feels like a hindrance. It’s never quite appealing in an aesthetic sense either (a different format would have been preferable), but it functions decently enough. And interestingly it doesn’t look anything like Stevenson’s art, which even if you just glance at the cover is much more simple and deliberate in design -very much like a comic strip (in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a fan of Bad Machinery). It’s healthy that the artists are allowed to go their own way with it, Stevenson’s involvement not only permitting but seemingly encouraging this.
And the movie does find ways to keep momentum during the action scenes, incorporating the weapons and environments of the world creatively and playing around with shot coordination and editing. There is also a lot of fun the animators clearly have with Nimona’s shapeshifting. The film struggles to flesh out its techno-medieval world beyond what’s immediately necessary for the plot though -what we do see isn’t all that compelling or original in either aesthetics or lore (though in fairness, Stevenson wrote the graphic novel when they were twenty-one and nobody’s best work was made when they were twenty-one).
But any shallowness is in service of the primary themes and metaphors; themes and metaphors that have for a while now featured across television animation but have rarely made it to films (and if this wasn’t a Netflix exclusive I doubt they would have made it in here either). A great deal is made of this monster that fought the first knights, and of the 'monstrousness' of Nimona's shapeshifting abilities. And yes, these kinds of allegories to prejudice are about a dime a dozen, but Nimona is emphatic in making it uniquely about queerness, replicating clear moral panic rhetoric from the antagonists, who turn on Nimona at the point the main thrust of the plot is seemingly resolved; and articulating Nimona's shapeshifting and her identity, both by her and by others, in terms that evoke the language of gender nonconformity. There are more explicit LGBTQ facets to the film -both Ballister and Nimona are drawn as queer: the former's relationship with his partner Ambrosius (Eugene Lee Yang), who betrays him to side with the establishment, is a significant subplot. But beyond representation it serves to heighten the cognizance and applicability of its social commentary. Not only does it make cogent points about modern discrimination, the importance of allyship, and the psychological ramifications of consistent dehumanization, but it points out the fallacies of cultural hero worship and mythologizing, and the ways that prejudice embeds within societal structures and broad public perception over time.
It has some sharp things to say in its last act, even as it ends in an awkward place. To a certain degree I don’t think it lives up to the full potential of its premise, but that mostly falls to the necessary corners needed to be cut for a cheaper Netflix product from the original Disney film -and I wonder what the movie would feel like on the big screen. However, sacrificing world building for resonant storytelling is always the better move; and though the movie doesn’t deliver especially on certain counts, it’s got a charming spirit that is even -I’m sure to Nimona’s delight- a touch radical.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Disney's Mulan, Cultural Appropriation, and Exploitation

I’m late on this one I know. I wasn’t willing to spend thirty bucks back in September for a movie experience I knew was going to be far poorer than if I had paid half that at a theatre. So I waited for it to hit streaming for free to give it a shot. In the meantime I heard that it wasn’t very good, but I remained determined not to skip it entirely, partly out of sympathy for director Niki Caro and partly out of morbid curiosity. Disney’s live-action Mulan  I was actually mildly looking forward to early in the year in spite of my well-documented distaste for this series of creative dead zones by the most powerful media conglomerate on earth. Mulan  was never one of Disney’s classics, a movie extremely of its time in its “girl power” gender politics and with a decidedly American take on ancient Chinese mythology. It got by on a couple good songs and a strong lead, but it was a movie that could be improved upon, and this new version looked like it had the potential to do that, em...

The Subtle Sensitivity of the Cinema of Wong Kar-wai

When I think of Wong Kar-wai, I think of nighttime and neon lights, I think of the image of lonely people sitting in cafes or bars as the world passes behind them, mere flashes of movement; I think of love and quiet, sombre heartbreak, the sensuality that exists between people but is rarely fully or openly expressed. Mostly I think of the mood of melancholy, yet how this can be beautiful, colourful, inspiring even. A feeling of gloominess at the complexity of messy human relationships, though tinged with an unmitigated joy in the sensation of that feeling. And a warmth, generated by light and colour, that cuts through to the solitude of our very soul. This isn’t a broadly definitive quality of Wong’s body of work -certainly it isn’t so much true of his martial arts films Ashes of Time  and The Grandmaster. But those most affectionate movies on my memory: Chungking Express , Fallen Angels , Happy Together , 2046 , of course  In the Mood for Love , and even My Blueberry Nig...

The Prince of Egypt: The Humanized Exodus

Moses and the story of the Exodus is one of the most influential mythologies of world history. It’s a centrepoint of the Abrahamic religions, and has directly influenced the society, culture, values, and laws of many civilizations. Not to mention, it’s a very powerful story, and one that unsurprisingly continues to resonate incredibly across the globe. In western culture, the story of Moses has been retold dozens of times in various mediums, most recognizably in the last century through film. And these adaptations have ranged from the iconic: Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments;  to the infamous: Ridley Scott’s Exodus: Gods and Kings . But everyone seems to forget the one movie between those two that I’d argue has them both beat. As perhaps the best telling of one of the most influential stories of all time, I feel people don’t talk about The Prince of Egypt  nearly enough. The 1998 animated epic from DreamWorks is a breathtakingly stunning, concise but compelling, ...