“Witches Get Stitches” MADOKA MAGICA & The Arc of Dark (Patreon)

Our relationship to art changes over the course of our lives.

This is inevitable. We grow. We change. Our interests shift. We gain more understanding of both the world around us and ourselves. And since movies reflect ideas and feelings, we of course gravitate to the art that reflects what we’re feeling at the time. But all of that can shift radically with new experiences. Whether it’s a sad break up, becoming a parent, or experiencing horrible grief and loss. All of these things create profound changes in how we relate to the conflict in stories and what characters we empathize with along the way. But within the realms of these changes, one of the common arcs of youth is our budding relationship to “dark art,” which is really just stories with more mature subject matter. This happens because often as kids, the dark scary things in movies tend to scare us. We all likely have some image or moment that we saw a bit too young that became burned into our brains and perhaps even gave us nightmares. These things really stick out in our fear centers. But as we begin to get older, we have to make those brave attempts to grow up. To cast off our childhood concerns and come to grips with the scary things in the world around us.

And that’s when we turn to the dark arts!

Muhhuahahhaa! It’s time to wear black! Paint our nails! And Go to Hot Topic!

Look, as much as I joke around about this kind of stuff, it’s actually a really important emotional phase whether you embrace the tangible gothness of it or not. Because we ALL have some kind of version of it. Some people gravitate towards fucked up art. Some people turn to athletics and build physical growth, or find physical outlets for anger. Some embrace wild teenage living and vices. And to get embarrassing on main, I argue I got the worst version because I felt safer in academics, so I became deeply pretentious and tried to read a recently-released Infinite Jest when I was, like, 15 because of course I did. *shakes head* But the unifying idea is we are trying to wrestle with the scary adult world in front of us in the way that appeals to us. We are trying to steel ourselves in order to prepare for the difficult events ahead. So we embrace the dark. We dive in with aspirations of the kind of person we want to be. And, as unsure teenagers, that means we often overcompensate along the way.

But that’s okay! They’re part of the growing pains, really. And it’s okay that the things we often cherished tended to reflect the darker world we saw before us. For me, I caught the wave of violent 90’s comics, trashy slashers, hypnotic messed-up movies like Jacob’s Ladder, Lost Highway, and of course Fight Club came out when I was still in high school and it’s safe to say my impression of then it radically differs from how I feel now. But we all have some relationship to “the arc of dark.” Where my interests evolved into other things, some artists like to still stay in that fun darker place and honor the “permanent teenager” inside of them. Because dammit, it’s IMPORTANT to make art for teenagers. To make things that help them turn into the wave of their grand feelings and play the gleeful puppet-master in that regard. But for others of us, it may be hard to go back and watch some of those dark things now. And in a different way, it’s even more odd to go back and watch certain pieces of dark art having never watched them before at all.

Which brings us to Madoka Magica.

It’s safe to say that this show would hit so hard at a different time in place. Especially if I was a teen coming off of my childhood love of Sailor Moon (and boy am I glad I watched that show first). I mean, my word! But let’s start with the show’s approach to the core appeal: a demonstration of darkness. On the surface level, it does a really good job of putting the adorable child soldiers into the messed-up, punk, collage-like style of the witches’ labyrinths (using a cool animation style a few years before Undertale and Spider-Verse), but it’s more about the show crafts specific moments.

Nowadays we can recognize the dramatic tactics of a show like Game of Thrones, which depends on leaning in to make us think X good thing is going to happen, but instead super horrible Y thing happens, often in shocking fashion. I always maintain that shows need a really good balance with these things so it’s not just this constant parade shock value gotcha tactics (and so that you can actually keep the audience off guard and not hopeless / always expecting the worst). Also, the gotcha moments have to be earned within the story. And overall, I’d say Madoka Magica does a fairly decent job in this regard (especially given how the ending is about transcending a lot of the bad things). But the first big moments “oh shit!” moments hit really hard. I mean, all I have to say is…

*chomp*

And you get exactly what I’m talking about. Because Mami’s death scene is harrowing because of how well-executed it is. It technically lacks gore, but in using speed and shadow it invokes so much inside your mind. From there, I like that the show understands it can’t quite get you with the same shock value, so it pivots. The unkind hits keep coming, but they’re more ideological. There’s Kyubey’s gradual betrayal, the concept of the soul taking, the realization of the game they’re in, how they’ve been tricked, and then their respective falls from grace. All of which bring us deeper into the darker hole of despair. But that brings us to the 10,000 dollar question of “why?” What’s the the point of such a journey?

Early on in the watch I was curious about the author who made this work and learned about the “Magica Quartet” of four distinct authorial voices who came together to create this show. Which I think is actually a pretty neat little thing. Because, yes, there is a little bit of a “made by committee” feeling to this show, but in a mostly good way. And you can see the way that it’s one of those shows that so consciously tackles the previously established tropes with equally specific dramatic moves. Now, usually I have a kind of fear any time a show has this kind of prerogative because it leads to “opposite day” type filmmaking where the story choice is purely about inverting your expectation and has little to no reason to exist beyond that, nor does it add up to a larger point. The narrative just presses on with more indiscriminate choices (JJ is the king of this). But luckily, Madoka Magica is after something more graceful.

Starting with plain old dramatic tact. While there’s a few times the pacing gets bogged down (in episodes four and five especially), it’s pretty good at misdirects and changing your understanding of the dramatic situation at hand. Likewise, it’s not great that Madoka has to spend so much of the narrative being a reactionary passenger in the story, but at least ends up narratively justifying what that’s all really about (because Homura is TRYING to save her from such a fate). But you also really do lose the mom plot-line in the middle there for a whole bunch and I feel like you need to uphold that for the end to work better. But really the only grand narrative problem is how much it isn’t really dramatized in overall shape, but instead how it’s too reliant on Kyubey delivering long, complex explanations about the extensive lore and rules of everything going on (when they really could have explained it just as effectively with half the words). Anyway, that’s not a death knell either. Because it’s still not as important as the thematic question driving these complex explanations…

What are the ideas actually saying?

To start, I think Madoka Magica is tapping into fruitful topicality. I don’t like making things gender normative, but a lot of art (especially in anime) makes things gender normative so you kinda gotta engage the text that way (which is also probably why the audience finds themselves floating between these “gendered” art forms). But this show is absolutely taking dead aim at feelings of Teenage GIrl Angst. Kyubey practically spells it out for us, how they’re Magical Girls “at the most fluctuating feelings of hope and despair.” Their wishes? Often simple and pure. The safety of a boy she likes. The public adoration of a parent. A friend protected from fate and harm. All these wishes are selfless, and like most basic teenage wants, they are returned with the curse of failure (in reality, because we’re all teens and bad at life). And in that despair, they become the very witches they were fighting against. Thus creating a full metaphor about how not getting our simple yearnings and needs met sends us into a dark and depressive place, which is certainly a more than valid theme.

The extended metaphor is perhaps where it might get a little wonky. We’re told this magical girl / witch cycle is about the “an enormous amount of energy is created” harnessed to prevent the heat death of the universe and you’re kind of like ‘... Sure?” I mean, they definitely invoke the historical parallels of Joan of Arc and the idea that this is really about fighting a world of apathy. But it also feels specifically like a world trying to tear down the meaningful interiority of young girls. I mean Kyubey literally says “emotion is considered a mental disorder” where they come from. But honestly, in that way, I think it’s more about the meta propagation of youthful dark art within commerce itself. It feels more like the capitalistic powers that be are the ones that tell these kinds of stories again and again and are thus the ones “feeding” off the angst of you girls and boys. It even makes sense that cute little Kyubey isn’t your mascot, but the cheery architect of this horrific cycle. And it’s why lines like, “if you ever feel like dying for the sake of the universe, call me! I’ll be waiting!” hit so hard.

But the deepest understanding comes in the art’s approach to resolution.

Because the ultimate tell with whether or not something becomes perfect “teenage art” versus “coming of age art that still holds up when you’re an adult” is the nature of the solution. Namely, is the solution to the darkness some kind of fantasy that doesn’t quite reflect reality? Or does it offer a surprisingly sober look into the future of adulthood? Keep in mind this has nothing to do with happy or sad (there are plenty of good and bad examples that do both), plus we all have different ideas about what those distinctions mean. So this is about whether or not the feelings stay relevant for us personally. But there are so commonalities in the tells of what I’m talking about.

For example, in a lot of those dark comic books I read, the “solution” was often how the tough, hardened hero forgoing attachments in the name of noble sacrifice. It’s one of those things that *sounds* like an “unhappy ending,” but is actually the kind of solution most angry teens are looking for. Because it means they still get to feel invulnerable, they get to be tough, they don’t have to be a part of the scary world, or reflect on their complicity, but instead rise above it in a martyr-like way. Even the notion of “no one knowing” about the sacrifice makes it all the more appealing, because it reflects a reality where no one is reflecting your inner feelings anyway. In short, it reflects the allusion of growth and transcendence while meaning you don’t actually have to change or confront things within. It’s the desired unhappy ending.

But it also can be a softer exploration than that. For example, Magnolia also came out when I was in high school and it instantly became my favorite movie. But even by my mid 20’s something had shifted in my estimation and I didn’t understand why until looking back at it years later. Because Paul Thomas Anderson’s film was made when he was in his late 20’s and in an explosion of grief about his father dying. The vulnerable expressions of the film swell out, looking for meaning and transcendence between broken people left with questions about why these bad things happened. And while there’s no direct spirituality to it, the fantastical “rains of frogs” come together in this vague way that seems to give order to the happenstance of their universe. And I realize now how much it was just a fantasy of something I was looking for in the scary world ahead - and likely, what Anderson may have been looking for in turn. Because it’s a film about having absolutely no idea what to do with your grief and looking for a very specific kind of “younger” answer.

What’s funny is how Magika Modoka’s resolution feels like an odd combination between the two, albeit with a little more substance. Because yes, it is moving toward that similar ultimate sacrifice fantasy, because it’s about getting to cross over into a higher plane of existence where you are content with your isolation and no longer in search of earthly attachments. But there is this beautiful little kernel about Modoka’s relationship with Homura that powers something more meaningful, or at least sensitive. They are two people who have done so much for each other, fought endlessly, and really desired the other's happiness (also, a lot of the imagery lends itself quite plainly to the “it gay” meta text). It’s a crucial anchor to the show, and part of the only arc of the show that pays off from start to finish. In that way, it burrows deep in a way that feels much stronger than the common “sacrifice fantasy” we see in a lot of dark art. Which I argue is the grand key to the show’s ultimate success.

But in the end, it’s not something that’s going to grab onto my older, weary, guarded bones the way Evangelion did in how meaningfully tackles suicidal depression. The offering here is just a bit more academic, and a bit more aimed at something of a former self than who I am now. But that’s okay. Because we all have an arc with the dark. And we’re all constantly dealing with the fact that, as adults, the bad things just get so much more real - and often they’re simpler. What “scares” us is the trials and tribulations of addiction in those we love, or maybe in ourselves. Or the irrevocable fact that many of us will never be able to retire. Ot the deep mental health disorders we often battled. Or the fact that there are meaningful friendships and relationships that we’ll never, ever fix. But that all leads to a simple realization of why we’re probably still attracted to a lot of this angsty stuff in the first place…

Unfortunately, a lot of the dark art is easier.

<3HULK