All the world is a meme: when satire can no longer keep up with reality
When real world headlines resemble satire, does satire too reinvent itself as drama to appease fans of stars?When real world headlines resemble satire, does satire
When real world headlines resemble satire, does satire too reinvent itself as drama to appease fans of stars?When real world headlines resemble satire, does satire too reinvent itself as drama to appease fans of stars? Eric Kripke’s The Boys — the satire on superhero culture — just ended with “one of the good guys” turning evil for literally half a scene. The comics it was based on always headed that way. In fact, the comics eventually force Billy Butcher to confront the logical conclusion of his own crusade. The ending is a lot darker. Google or ChatGPT it at your own risk. The Seth Rogen produced show glances in the same direction but barely lingers there. In the final episode, Butcher finally admits what had been obvious all along. He was “never going to stop.” He felt self-righteous to the point of genocide and had become the person he was fighting. Pleasing the fans Given that Karl Urban’s Butcher had become such a fan favourite, with his catchphrases and swagger becoming part of the appeal of the show itself, it is hard not to wonder whether modern stories are finding it increasingly difficult to sit with the idea that a much loved character you probably imitate in your head — maybe borrowing his “Oi”s — was always going to be as bad as they come. A few years ago, in Game of Thrones, George R.R. Martin’s take on politics as the domain of dynasts was always heading towards a reckoning for one of its most beloved rulers.
But by the time the show reached its final seasons, people had named their children Khaleesi. It also aired when people felt that feminism didn’t need this demonisation or further witch hunting. The challenge of catering to what fans want — during this flaky moment in our complex polarised times — is really messing with the political themes these stories originally set out to capture. Martin’s Game of Thrones was fundamentally a story about bloodline power and inherited entitlement. The trajectory was always headed towards a clash between merit and inheritance, democracy and dictatorship, outsiders and dynasts. The audience simply fell in love with one of the monarchs. In the first few seasons based on Martin’s books, the specifics mattered. Characters took weeks to get to King’s Landing. Political decisions had consequences. Once the books ran out, the show became entirely written for television. lAnd now, geography didn’t matter. Characters popped up from one location to another without having to ride for days as they once did. It was always going to end this way. The lack of detail made the execution weak. Tamil cinema offers a comparable example. R.J. Balaji started off making a parody with Karuppu. At the audio launch, Suriya himself described it as a spoof that would make people think. But the marketing team had their own plan. The film was more like a supernatural drama about the power of folk deities. More Kantara than parody.
