The warming weather and lengthening days means summer’s on its way. Time to break out the books.

Us bookworms know the problem. A mound of unread novels growing faster than a pack of Catholic rabbits (kudos if you got that reference 😉 ). Summer is a fantastic time to launch into that TBR (to-be-read) pile with gusto.

Or explore the bookatorium (that magical depository where every book is gathered) for thrilling tales waiting to find new readers. Here are some top-notch choices (and yes I slightly cheated because most of them are full series’).

1. OUT OF TIME SERIES

YA dystopia, but without the annoying clichés and petty characters. Lots of high stakes, intense action, a tasteful amount of romance…and oh my word the worldbuilding. Clocks that tell you when you’ll die? Can it get any better?

2. KINSMAN CHRONICLES

The first two books, King’s Folly and King’s Blood have released. This is a world of intrigue, treachery, secrets, filled with fascinating characters and plagued by portents of doom. Add in a much different setting than most fantasy, and this series hits all the sweet spots.

3. THE MISTBORN TRILOGY

I don’t think I’ve read a more unique fantasy series. The stories aren’t afraid to take wild twists, keep the reader guessing, all the while launching the characters from daring escapade to daring escapade. It’s riveting in all the right ways. And the magic system…prepare to have your mind blown.

The end of book two—The Well of Ascension—is literally the most heart-stopping cliffhanger invented.

4. CURIO

The only standalone in the list, and one of the few steampunk novels I’ve read. I loved this book because it takes place in a totally uncommon, highly creative world filled with danger, love, heroism, and magic.

5. STORM SIREN TRILOGY

The first book was outstanding, its style so beautiful and flowing, yet potent enough to drill into the heart. Nym, the main character, had such a tragic story it was impossible not to connect with her. All the fun fantasy trappings were present, spiced up with a cool magic system.

A devious cliffhanger sent the entire story rocketing off on a new path, and I’m super excited to see where books two and three lead.

6. THE WHEEL OF TIME

An epic fantasy series if ever there was such a thing. Equal parts brilliant, annoying, ponderous, and thrilling. The series was way too long (eliminate books 6-10 and everyone would be happy), but the buildup, the war against the Dark One, the climactic finish of impossibly enormous proportion. Totally worth the time.

7. THE RECKONERS SERIES

More Brandon Sanderson. Yay! An inventive world, crazy cool powers, a spin on so many tropes that brought a refreshing vigor to the plots, and a main character whose inability to create metaphors should win him an Oscar. This action keeps you mowing through pages.

8. THE WINGFEATHER SAGA

I actually haven’t read this series. But every time I mention it, people’s response goes something like this: “You. Must. Read. You’ll cry and laugh and cry some more, and have your heart torn out and get hit so hard it he feels you won’t know what to do and it’s beautiful and wrenching and prepare to have your emotions rocked.”

Apparently it’s good.

9. THE SPACE TRILOGY

Can’t have a reading list without a bit of C. S. Lewis. The books are heavy, and definitely not action-oriented. But some philosophical ponderings, big words, and deep truths never hurt, right? 😉

10. THE STORMLIGHT ARCHIVE

I literally could rave about this series all day every day. It simply is the best thing ever. And as an avid Lord of the Rings fan, I don’t say that lightly. But what Sanderson has already accomplished and is setting up (only 2 of the 10 books have been published) is incredible.

The plot is so big and beautiful and mysterious it gives you that insane, riveting feeling where you must know what happens and are in awe as the threads gradually weave together in a tapestry too stunning for words.

Don’t forget the characters, each of whom are individualized, with pasts, hurts, goals, fears. The list goes on. They’re so real it wouldn’t surprise me at all to see Kaladin marching down the street or come across Shallan while on a stroll in the park.

And then there’s the worldbuilding. So bold, creative, compelling, detailed, and soaked in imagination that it just isn’t fair. I could spend a lifetime in stories set in the world of Roshar and never get bored.

What’s on your summer reading list, and what books would you recommend?

The Button Girl

By Sally Apokedak

INTRODUCTION—THE BUTTON GIRL, a young adult fantasy

Sixteen-year-old Repentance Atwater hates living in the breeder village. She hates the foggy swamp, she hates that the other villagers think she’s cursed because of her light complexion, and, most of all, she hates the thought of “buttoning” with Sober Marsh and breeding little slave babies for the overlords.

But the law is clear: Anyone who refuses to button and breed is taken away and sold as a slave on the overlord mountain. Repentance won’t be taken alone, either. Sober Marsh, her intended button mate, will be ripped away from his family and sold, as well.

Before the night of her Button Ceremony is over, Repentance has devastated her family and ruined Sober’s life. But worse things are coming on the overlord mountain. Repentance’s stubborn idealism and unruly tongue enrage the king, and she winds up endangering her entire her village.

THE BUTTON GIRL — EXCERPT

Repentance Atwater stood beside her little sister, Comfort, studying the damp ground where all the mushrooms grew.

Comfort trudged into the patch. “I found a good one!” She bent down to grab it.

“Careful,” Repentance said. “Don’t get your bib and britches dirty.” Repentance, in her sixth year was the older sister. It was her job to keep Comfort out of trouble while they waited for Destiny—the big girl from down the creek who was coming to take the out of Mama’s way for a while.

Repentance studied Comfort’s mushroom. “That’s a good start. But let’s keep looking. We have to find the fattest ones.” The mushrooms would be a nice surprise for Mama. They would cheer her up.

Trying to back up, Comfort tripped over her own feet and landed in the muddiest spot.

“Comfort!” Now Mama’s going to be mad.” Repentance threw a quick look toward their cave to see if anyone was looking. Something was wrong with Mama lately. She’d bee crying all week.

That morning she’d gotten really bad—sobbing so hard she hadn’t been able to speak. Repentance had run to the swamp-squash harvest to fetch Daddy.

She pulled Comfort up and brushed at the med on the seat of her britches, smearing it around, making it worse. “Daddy will help Mama,” she said . . . to herself more than to Comfort. “Don’t worry. It will all come out right in the end.”

Hearing a noise on the trail, she looked up to see a figure coming—moving fast. It was too foggy to see who it was, but then she heard the familiar whistle. “Destiny!” she shouted.

Destiny ran up to the cave, poked her head in behind the thick leather curtain that closed off the opening, and hollered to let Mama and Daddy know she was there.

“You’re late, Daddy said, stepping out.

“I’m sorry, I was—”

“It’s not important. Just hurry and take them.”

Destiny looked at Comfort’s muddy britches. “Come on, you two,” she said. “I suppose we’ll have to go to the swimming hole to get you all cleaned up.”

“Yippee!” Repentance said. “I’ll get Trib.”

Daddy grabbed her before she could enter the cave. “Tribulation can’t go.”

Repentance stopped, confused. Three-year-old Trib loved to swim. And he wasn’t ill. “Trib is hale and hearty,” she said. “Why can’t he cme with us?”

Before Daddy could answer, the morning erupted with scratching and scrabbling sounds as birds and bunnies skittered off the path that led through the swamp.

Dark shapes came toward the cave.

They pushed through the fog—took form. Two overlords and a goat cart with a willow-branch cage in its bed. One of the overlords had a dragon stick slung over his shoulder.

Repentance automatically put an arm around Comfort and crouched down, wanting to be small. She’d seen an overlord shoot a dragon stick once. The fire was so hot it had set a soaking-wet tree on fire. There had been a puff of steam as the water burned off, and then the tree had exploded into flames

The men stopped in front of the cave. “We’re here for the weanling.”

“He’s in the house,” Daddy said. “I’ll get him.” Then to Destiny he said, “Too late, now. Bring the girls inside and keep them busy.”

Destiny tried to her them into the cave, but Comfort ducked out of reach. “You said we could to to the swim hole.”

One of the overlords took a square of cloth from his pocket about the size of the handkerchiefs that Daddy used. Only this cloth was glowing. Bright yellow light was coming off if as if it was a candle. Repentance had never see the likes of it.

So it was true what everyone said: The overlords had magic.

Comfort, eyes, reached for the cloth. Destiny snagged her collar and pulled her back.

“Let the little swamp rat be,” the man said, dangling his magic hanky in front of Comfort. “I’m not going to hurt her.

While the man was distracted with her little sister, Repentance studied his strange, pale eyes. She’d never ben so close to an overlord before.

Daddy ducked back under the curtain holding Tribulation, who was squirming and fussing.

The overlord shoved his yellow, glowing cloth into his pocket.

Daddy, his face gray, planted a kiss on Trib’s head and handed him to the man.

Handed him to the overlord!

Just like hat!

Blood rushed into Repentance’s head and pounded in her ears. Time seemed to slow down

A sob broke from Daddy, and he slipped into the cave.

The overlord stuck Trib into the cage.

Tossed him in.

Like Trib wasn’t anything more than possum or a piglet.

He hooked the door of the cag.

Turned the goat around.

Began down the path.

“Meany!” Comfort three her mushroom at the overlords. It fell shor. Landed on the muddy path. Harmless.

Trib stuck his arms through the willow-branch slats. Reaching out. “Pentace!” he screamed. “Pentace!”

Crying.

Sobbing.

Wailing.

Repentance could see the tears clinging to his eylashes.

She could see his chubby, wet, red cheeks.

She could see his tiny, white, baby teet.

And then she couldn’t see anything at all.

He was gone.

Swallowed by the fog.

She made to follow, but Destiny held her back.

His wailing was quickly muffled, absorbed by the swamp, with its sopping trees, its thick moss, and its moldy earth.

The outdoor noises came back. Frogs croaking. War-lizards hissing. Trees dripping.

A fat blob of water fell from a tree and splattered onto her face. Repentance swiped it off with the back of one hand. “H didn’t break any of the rules,” she whispered. Fear rose in her throat like a purple-fruit pit—a thick knot that made it hard to swallow. “They aren’t supposed to take us kids if we don’t break the rules. Why did they take Trib”

“It’s grief Day,” Destiny said. “Keeping the rules doesn’t count on Grief Day.”

AUTHOR BIO

Sally Apokedak is an associate agent with the Leslie H. Stobbe Literary Agency.

She’s been studying, reviewing, and marketing children’s books, as well as giving writing instruction for fifteen years. As the manager of the Kidz Book Buzz blog tour she was privileged to work with best-selling and award-winning authors such as Jeanne DuPrau, Ingrid Law, and Shannon Hale.

The Button Girl is her first published novel.

Much ado has been made over the past few weeks about the nature and shortcomings of superhero movies. Marvel films especially have been under the microscope.

While as fans, critics, or fellow storytellers (whichever category you happen to fall in) it’s useful to discuss the flaws we see, it’s also helpful to remember the strengths.

One comment on my post last week remarked on the “this needs fixing” mentality. So amid the criticism (which is good and necessary), let’s tackle the issue from the opposite angle.

What are superhero movies doing well?

**Caveat: Posts such as this that explore broad topics are difficult to manage lest they put everything into a single box and overly simplify complex situations. My goal isn’t to make blanket or absolute statements, but rather to discuss general trends.**

1. Connected Storylines.

DC has done a decent job, though the lack of stories set in the same universe has somewhat hindered their effectiveness to this point. Hopefully that will change with the release of several more films over the next few years.

Marvel, on the other hand, excels here. As a fan, one of my favorite things about watching a Marvel movie is the abundance of easter eggs, cameo appearances, and subtle references to happenings in the larger MCU.

Setting separate stories in the same fictional universe provides a number of benefits that serve to strengthen the overall storytelling.

• Cohesion across stories.
• Ability to craft plot arcs that span more than one film.
• A sense of a larger world outside that of the specific story on screen.
• Characters filling in different roles: e.g. in The Avengers the team being co-heroes instead of individual heroes.
• Added character interaction and dynamics.

2. Action, Action, and more Action.

While an overdose can certainly provide a lethal blow to the greater levels of intricacy and character development that make a story resonate, you have to hand it to Hollywood on this score.

Action, as a storytelling device, plays a primary role in the creation of a well-rounded narrative. It’s like salt: too much, and the result is disgusting, but too little, and the story becomes bland.

No matter whether you favor Marvel and DC’s universes, it’s impossible to deny they both pack the action into their films like gunpowder in a musket. This leads to fast-paced, adrenaline-pumping scenes, as the heroes courageously dash from one daring feat to the next.

Sure, it gets tiring. But it’s still fun to watch in moderation. The greatest benefit it provides is giving the heroes a stage upon which to let their powers glow in full glory.

One of the worst fates a superhero can suffer is for his/her really cool power to have its time to shine stolen. After all, the powers are what make the stories unique and awesome.

3. Imaginative Worldbuilding.

One of the greatest perks to any speculative story is the chance to explore the fantastic. To go places where the imagination soars, where the impossible becomes reality.

For all their faults, superhero movies hit the nail squarely on the head when it comes to worldbuilding. Whether it’s a setting on earth flooded by Chitauri warriors, a highly-advanced alien planet, or a mysterious blending of our reality with another, the worlds that form the backdrop of superhero tales are often brimming with creativity.

Stories fill many roles, and for speculative fiction especially, one essential element is to induce a sense of otherness, either enormously big or subtly small yet pervasive. An entire system of planets and interstellar travel or a city on earth yet with one citizen whose presence changes everything.

Such are the storytelling elements that cause audiences to dream, to become part of the story, to let their imaginations revel in the myriad possibilities awaiting.

After all, isn’t that one of the greatest benefits a story can give?

4. Diverse Character Casts.

By diverse, I mean exhibiting variety.

In their backgrounds, upbringings, life experiences, races, motivations, temperaments, skills, and goals. Each is an individual stroke upon a larger canvas. Each has a unique life with a different path, a different story, a different perspective on a certain situation.

Many of the movies to date have certainly drawn out compelling characterization. The Dark Knight Trilogy and Captain America: Winter Soldier leap to mind as two stellar examples.

And thanks to the presence of the previous three points, heroes enjoy ample opportunity to exhibit their superhero awesomeness.

Superhero Movies Are Great

Many films contain more fantastic pieces than the ones mentioned here. And a good number have coalesced into breathtaking, riveting tales.

Taking a step back, are superhero movies all plummeting toward demise in a final blaze of fiery glory? I highly doubt it. Are they pristine and flawless? Certainly not.

Each have strong points and weaknesses. Perhaps the storytelling techniques could use improvement, but that’s not stopping people from flocking to the theaters, and ultimately, the end goal is entertain an audience. On that score, most films have delivered.

One final point to note. When it comes to entertainment, the rules are much more flexible and subjective to personal taste. Thus Guardians 2 may be enthralling for one fan, while another much prefers Man of Steel. Neither view is inherently wrong.

And that just goes to prove the age-old maxim: you can’t please everyone all the time.

What are some of your favorite elements in superhero movies?

H.G. Wells’ first novel, The Time Machine (1895), predicted future events with so much accuracy one wonders if he might have invented the novelized contraption that catapulted him into literary fame. His work, Anticipation, showed astute understanding of future political events and sociological changes. The 1936 movie, Things to Come, was scripted in large part by Wells and based on his works, The Shape of Things to Come (1933) and influenced by earlier works such as A Story of the Days to Come (1897), and, The Work, Wealth and Happiness of Mankind (1931).

In my forthcoming book, The Fifteenth Article, a futuristic political thriller, I based my future world upon current social, economic, and spiritual trends that, if unimpeded would evolve to a natural conclusion.

The innate human quest for supremacy and power will continue for as long as the Prince of the Air is given reign.

Here are a few of my visions for what may come.

First, when sea levels rise, a cataclysmic spiral of disease, famine, and lack of resources will pit nation against nation. Humanity will seek a savior to avoid extinction. Thus, a global government will arise to unite mankind in one accord. Eventually, a democratic world government will be corrupted by those who lust for power. Factions will resist and the world will once more teeter upon a civil war that could throw civilization back into a third dark age. There will be those who will fight to keep the status quo, those who promote out and out rebellion, and a myriad of groups will fall between the two ideologies.

Second, as the world continues to war against religiosity and major religious groups come to blows in their quest for dominance, conflict will escalate. When the world unites, those in power will criminalize religious expression and blame such behavior on the chaos that nearly eradicated all humanity. Without moral guidelines, as in the days of the Judges, people will strive to define morality by personal standards.

Third, with the demise of organized religion, government will be unable to define marriage and family. Yet, human nature, being what it is, will still desire ceremony and ritual in the joining of human flesh. A system for the nuclear family will be developed, which I call the familial contract, comprised of up to six individuals…all one sex or a mixture of both. The government will enforce a three-year waiting period before allowing children into the familial mix. An illegal pregnancy may result in forced abortion, the fetus donated to meme factories for production of genetically engineered humans manufactured to fill labor shortages.

Fourth, humanity’s dark side will still tend toward subjugation of others to serve society’s lust for pleasures. In my future world, memes, manufactured human flesh, do most of the menial work and are considered tools created for humanity’s service … in practice a system tantamount to slavery.

Fifth, for as long as Christ tarries, He will leave a remnant of faithful followers. In 2073, a minority called Christ Followers will struggle to follow their tenets within a society that opposes religion of any kind. The use of memes will challenge traditional Christian thought. Many will adamantly oppose the system. Others will try to administer Christ-like behaviors within the system. Memes have no rights, though they are human. Eventually, the quest for freedom will impact this segment of society. Though no revolution occurs in this novel, the stage is ripe for a civil war reminiscent of one that occurred over two centuries ago.

Sixth, to survive the chaos after global disaster, society will eventually reorder itself. In The Fifteenth Article, I envision the construction of domed cities where life is deemed good. The globe is sectored into nineteen provinces, many considered uninhabitable, but under domination of United Earth. To police the new world order, the Interprovincial Equalization Authority is created, each province has a municipal system of governing. Each city has ten sectors, divided according to wealth and class, the poorest of society are huddled into decaying areas in Sector Ten. Occasional roundups are carried out to transfer inhabitants from the outworlds, those outside the cities’ perimeters, and victims dumped into Sector Ten to await repatriation status. There are few social programs to assist the poor, and living conditions in this sector are brutal. Eventually, outworlds will organize their own systems of government. The quest for independence will renew a nationalistic fever and threaten the existence of United Earth.

Seventh, technology will eventually recover and advance. Within the cities, I envision a repurposing of old subway systems and the creation of other public transportation. Airdocks will be constructed for inter and intra provincial travel. Outworlds will develop their own systems of travel. Individual communication devices will have projection capability. Improved housing will be minimal and only the wealthy will be able to afford more than the standard one or two rooms granted to most of the Citizenry. Food will be mostly cloned. Again, only the wealthy will be able to afford first generation food stuffs. To police and control, only duly recognized citizens who wear an implanted device will be able to conduct business and utilize services. These implants will be linked to a monitoring device called The Mainframe, its access guided by a holographic icon called EVE (external virtual educator).

These are only a few of my impressions of what the world may be like in 2073. What do you predict?

Marvel Cinematic Universe Films, including the recent Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, are fun diversions. Often they share provocative reflections on heroism and camaraderie, making them transcend “fun movie” expectations.

But on Monday, I pointed out five problems that, if left unfixed, could make future Marvel films into self-parodies.

In fact, my Christianity Today review summary of Vol. 2 could apply to the last four Marvel films:

When the filmmakers show discipline by focusing separately on the crew’s very human griefs, with humor that helps power these struggles, the film blasts off. But moments of uncertainty—especially when the story retreats from its own big ideas in favor of tiny ideas or distracting jokes—threaten to undermine the film’s own fun characters and original ideas.

These problems are getting easier to find in the latest Marvel films: not only Vol. 2, but Doctor Strange, Captain America: Civil War, and Ant-Man.

Here are five more issues I really hope Marvel will head off, at least before the next Avengers film(s).

6. Enough with the ‘Family 2.0 is Amazing’ themes.

I get it. All the Marvel fans on Tumblr like to draw pictures of the Avengers living together as one big surrogate family (sometimes Chibi-fied, sometimes with Loki for some reason).

But I tired somewhat of the heavy-handed and unqualified repetition of this notion in Guardians Vol. 2. (We’re also seeing it even more often in all the movies from Disney.)

As I explain in my Vol. 2 review, the notion that “your biological family may abandon you, but you can always join a new family among quirky friends” is already cliché. (One could say this theme is also politically correct to redefine “family.” I think it’s simply a safe “moral lesson” on which to base movies that are meant to appeal to the most amounts of people.)

When will Marvel movies start challenging this notion? Captain America: Civil War came the closest. But again, by its end you I felt the story had used its supposed theme—should government regulate superheroes?—as mere pretext for yet another family-related drama.

In reality, surrogate family—your quirky friends with various powers who like the same things you like and fight with you versus bad guys—will disappoint you. In fact, they’ll often act even worse than your parents or teachers who pastors who Just Don’t Get You. Your Family 2.0 may be like the Guardians of the Galaxy. Or they may be like poor Yondu’s crew: ready to turn on you in a day. (And at that point, should you really respond like Yondu did?)

In these stories aim to show hyper-reality to any extent, they need to show this fact: Family 2.0 will fall apart and fight and reject you just like any other family. So live and work and stay a hero because you’re motivated by greater causes or moral lessons than Family.

7. Figure it out: are the films mainly for kids or adults?

I’m fine with live-action language in live-action movies (while still believing the Bible’s warning against nasty talk in our real lives).

But honestly, the increase of overt Bad Words in Marvel movies does bother me.

This is getting worse. I remember when Whiplash in Iron Man 2 utters the first S-word in a Marvel movie. These then vanished until an outburst in Thor: The Dark World, and of course roared back in Guardians of the Galaxy. Then Spider-Man, whose only previous cinematic swear in Spider-Man 3 is shown in the worst possible light, exclaims “Holy —-!” at the appearance of Ant-Man’s giant form. And Vol. 2 just ups the ante even more.

Again, this is fine if the films represent some measure of reality. But the Language feels superfluous if it’s paired with lack of other real-world consequences (such as immunity to pain or permanent death). Marvel movies, are you mainly for kids or adults? Pick a primary audience and a secondary one, but maybe stop trying to be primarily for all the audiences.

8. Sometimes less is more. Stop giving away the candy store.

I really liked Captain America: Civil War. The fact that Spider-Man actually made a cameo appearance is nothing short of amazing. (And the backstory, which involves hacking and North Korea and everything, is even better.) But at the end, I did feel a bit overwhelmed.

The film well justifies and balances its inclusion of so many characters. And yet … so many.

I wanted to pause and get to know each one better. Or track Cap’s thoughts on all this.

And yet, no time. For that reason, even the mid-climactic airport fight felt a bit hollow, even while being full of awesome. It felt like Marvel gave away the candy store, showing all of its power all at once, without holding back any surprising abilities.

I felt the same in Vol. 2’s five, count ‘em, five, end-credits teasers. My theater’s audience did not respond well. They sat silent, perhaps still in grief, but mostly just—in a sugar high.

Perhaps Marvel can keep the sugar. But it needs to be paired with meatier, high “stakes.”

9. Mind your self-awareness. I don’t want to mock superheroes.

Ha, ha, let’s all laugh at Thor.

Marvel respects its heroes, even the silly ones. Yet there are a few moments when this respect breaks.

In Age of Ultron, Hawkeye notes that he’s fighting an army of giant robots with a bow and arrow. “None of this makes any sense!”

In Civil War, Spider-Man accurately notes of Cap’s shield, “That thing does not obey the laws of physics!”

Okay. I’m watching a superhero movie. It’s fantasy and often defies common sense and physics. It’s okay to lampshade this some. But Marvel, don’t go too far with this. If you don’t play it straight, we can’t either. When you deconstruct too much, the story can’t hold up.

The first film, Iron Man, tried to make all this look as realistic as possible. Don’t forget that.

Frankly, I’m afraid for Thor: Ragnarok. Someone decided they didn’t like Kenneth Branagh’s serious, pop-Shakespeare take on Thor (2011), and have since steered the God of Thunder into comedic directions. Thor is funny, but I far preferred his humor mixed with the “magic meets science” weight of Branagh’s film. The first Ragnarok trailer goes full-on Guardians of the Galaxy, complete with classic rock song and splashy ‘80s-esque colors and font choices.

No. Please don’t do this to Thor. Keep him at least partially serious. Make me wonder that there could be an Asgard out there somewhere. Make me lament its possible destruction.

10. Pull back on new super-shows; this feels like a new franchise bubble.

Finally, I’m about done with all the new Marvel shows being announced. Purely because of time constraints, I’ve already lost track of “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.” season 4 and will need to catch up on Netflix. Now in addition to all the X-Men shows, Marvel Studios proper has announced some show on Hulu about teen superheroes, and something called “Cloak and Dagger,” and maybe more. I don’t know. I can’t keep track. And I can’t watch them all.

All this does feel like a superhero-universe bubble. I doubt even Marvel, with its nearly 10 years of success, can sustain this for too long. Already you see some cracks: Iron Fist on Netflix has gotten pilloried, and Luke Cage’s second half lacked luster.

As for these other streaming-service shows, will they all connect with the movies? I doubt it. And I also doubt we’ll see Daredevil and Luke Cage in the films. Which is really too bad.

For my part, I’d like Marvel to freeze its story assets at the Defenders series on Netflix, “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.” (now renewed for season 5 with no signs of stopping) and the film series, especially now that the films will also include Spider-Man.

I’d prefer if Marvel kept at least some candy on the top shelf, maybe never to be given away. And more than ever, especially as we head into the one (or two?) Avengers: Infinity War films—which bear the threat of effectively ending the present-day MCU—I’d much prefer to see Marvel step up its serious cinematic game. Make us actually feel the weight of saving the world. Kick out the distracting jokes. Up the music game. Don’t forget smaller stories and the drama of real suffering. Dig deeper than Disney-approved “Family 2.0 is magic” themes. Please a primary audience and follow the less-is-more truth. And, for a Norse god’s sake, watch the deconstruction and show restraint with franchise-building.

Next: I suppose I ought to issue similar concerns for the DC Extended Universe.

Are superhero movies, which have enjoyed immense success over the past decade, in trouble?

With the recent release of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, much attention has turned toward the Marvel franchise. Conversations, thoughts, and opinions about the movie abound. And the reactions are mixed to say the least.

Some loved it.

Some, like me, thought it was decent but ultimately fell short of expectations.

Some saw many problems.

In the wake of the myriad reactions, yesterday Stephen Burnett offered thoughts on why the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe) needs to be fixed. I’m a huge fan of Marvel, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed their movies, counting several among my all-time favorites. However, Stephen’s post raised excellent points. His view of Marvel’s need to shift focus started me thinking about the superhero genre as a whole.

And the more I thought about it, the more worrisome trends I noticed.

So while there’s much attention on superhero flicks, let’s consider some of the problems present.

1. Formulaic storytelling.

One the main points in Stephen’s post was the lack of originality coming out of the MCU corner of Hollywood. Unfortunately, I think this is a trend plaguing or positioned to plague superhero films across the universes.

For example, Justice League could easily become DC’s version of The Avengers and try too hard to mimic the reasons for its success rather than create compelling reasons for its own unique success.

To an extent, stories will be formulaic for the simple reason that certain methods work and others don’t. However, I think Hollywood is prone to a cookie cutter approach, tossing out movies with essentially the same core elements, just draped with different trappings.

As a storyteller, I understand the intention. If something works (and box office numbers certainly proclaim monetary success), why bother tweaking the approach?

Perhaps that perspective misses the point.

What if, instead of factory-made stories that roll endlessly off the assembly line without anything significant to differentiate them, the approach focused on innovation?

What if instead of finding a castle of cash and hunkering down, the formula should be to forge new paths and explore new frontiers? After all, didn’t some of the most successful tales do just that?

Looking at Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and Hunger Games to name a few outside the superhero sphere.

2. Humor at the sacrifice of seriousness.

Certainly a point of contention when considering Marvel films. Marvel’s method has been to inject healthy doses of wit and levity into their stories, and so far it’s worked. Audiences enjoy the comic relief, and quick wit has become an MCU hallmark.

However, with Guardians 2, many humorous parts felt forced, as if the movie was trying too hard to fit the Marvel mold and thus ended up cracking it. Some of the punchlines worked, some rattled like a container of spilled silverware.

However, this problem isn’t inherent to the MCU. I adore the Dark Knight trilogy. But one scene in the third movie has always bugged me. When Selina shows up and saves Bruce from Bain. She blasts Bain with the guns on the Batcycle and then offers up a witty comment that clashes with the tone of the act, as if to soften the weight of casually blowing the villain into oblivion.

**spoilers** Another notable instance occurred in Guardians 2, when Yondu, Rocket, and Groot blazed a path of death through Yondu’s rebellious crew. The lighthearted tone of the music completely undermined the gravity of the situation.

I think that’s the point. In order to include violence and show lots of rough action, movies infuse humor to counter the grittiness and heavy themes. The practice is becoming more prevalent and ultimately undermining the consequences such violence ought to portray.

3. Cardboard villains.

In this realm, DC has the edge on Marvel, and I’m not considering TV shows (where DC also shines). Generally, DC tries to carve its heroes, giving them contours and definition rather than flat personalities and backstories, which Marvel’s guilty of.

Even so, DC’s villains often fall short of achieving truly legendary status. At the end of the day, most villains in superhero stories find themselves underdeveloped and underappreciated, there to provide an obstacle and target for the hero rather than enjoying an individualized purpose.

Two exceptions (one from DC and Marvel to show I’m not biased) are The Joker and Loki. Brilliant. Compelling. Unique.

Unfortunately, their dazzling characterization hasn’t trickled down to the villains on the lower ladder rungs.

As an aside, one reason I found Captain America: Civil War fascinating was because it attempted to step out of the box, pitting the teams against each other rather than against a hugely powerful antagonist. (Though of course Zemo manipulated them.)

4. Lack of consequences.

Let’s dub this one Agent Coulson Syndrome, a particular affliction of the MCU. When one person thought dead is brought back to life, that opens the door to a flood of possibilities. All of which, while perhaps intriguing at the outset, ultimately erode the potency of any future storylines.

Because how can stakes be meaningful if the hero can burst back to life at some point? What far-reaching consequences are there?

None.

Certainly, emotional, mental, relational impacts also play vital roles in creating a connection to the main characters. But if the hero is never truly in danger, what is he or she really sacrificing?

And if the point of the story is to explore the cost from an angle other than death, that should drive the entire story. Too often the emphasis favors pulse-pounding action and titanic clashes that ultimately glimmer like a spark before puffing out into fleeting wisps of smoke.

The villains, action, battles always strive to be more impressive. Yet where is the threat when superheroes are virtually indestructible?

The superhero genre has churned out plenty of box office hits, but the quality of storytelling is on the decline. Hopefully producers will begin focusing more effort on blazing exciting new trails that leave audiences challenged, thrilled, and delighted.

What problems do you see in superhero movies? Which stories do you think got it right and why?

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 is the fourth Marvel Cinematic Universe film to be afflicted by a few common story issues. In my mixed review of Vol. 2 today at Christianity Today, I note:

When the [Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2] filmmakers show discipline by focusing separately on the crew’s very human griefs, with humor that helps power these struggles, the film blasts off. But moments of uncertainty—especially when the story retreats from its own big ideas in favor of tiny ideas or distracting jokes—threaten to undermine the film’s own fun characters and original ideas.¹

I’ve noticed similar issues in all the Marvel films since Ant-Man, I wondered if Marvel might head off these issues with Captain America: Civil War, or even Doctor Strange. But so far they’ve only done more of the same. And the issues are kind of getting worse. But no one seems to want to point these out, lest they come off as nitpickers (or perhaps DC partisans).

Fine. I’ll do it myself.²

1. Raise the story stakes.

In Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, the crew is swarmed by autopiloted ships from the elitist Sovereign. Not a one is manned (so Rocket can shoot without killing a soul). And not a one poses any real threat to the Guardians’ ship. Even when it crash-lands on the planet, Drax—left dragging behind the ship on a cable—only laughs and bellows, “That was awesome!”

It’s funny, but also typical. All these characters are “super,” and so their only vulnerabilities are emotional. But emotional vulnerabilities resonate more when paired with the risk of actual, physical harm to our heroes. When everyone’s super, no one will be.

Limits and dramatic stakes give the story actual significance. It’s no surprise that the most critically acclaimed Marvel Cinematic Universe film, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, offers the highest no-apology stakes for our heroes. Marvel movies must add more of them, without apology, and without winking to remind us it’s all in good fun because this movie is Fun. For example:

2. Lower the total of distracting jokes.

Doctor Strange (justifiably) hurls villains into hell, then cracks a joke, and nobody panics. Other heroes take lives as a sober duty (and may show personal anguish over the deed), well then everyone loses their minds.

Here is my least favorite moment of Doctor Strange. In the film’s time-bending and rather spectacular finale, Strange defeats the entity Dormammu by locking himself in a magical time-loop and acting out a sort of “Christus victor” salvation. Finally, the entity withdraws from Earth, and all his cultish slaves are drawn screaming into the void after him.

Strange: “It’s everything you ever wanted. Eternal life as part of the One. You’re not going to like it.”

Translating into Christian-ese, Dr. Strange literally defeats the Devil and sends him back to Hell along with his demonic legions. It’s a dramatic, sobering end—

Strange: “I think he really should have stolen the whole book, because the warnings—the warnings come after the spells.”

This is so wrong. It clashes with the scene before, breaks the story “spell,” and may as well show the wires and CG frames holding the sets together. It’s even worse after Strange has earlier honestly confronted the fact that, as a sorcerer, he must break his physicians’ oath and actually kill other human beings. Here he isn’t sober at all. He’s cracking a flippant joke.

Similarly, in Vol. 2, the flippant jokes are doubled. Unlike the first Guardians, many of them don’t actually bounce off the story or add to the characters. They only distract.

Marvel Cinematic Universe films must start cutting back on these. I love humor, but not at the story’s expense.

3. Get your soundtrack musical act together.

I must be the only person who prefers these film soundtracks over the Guardians “awesome mix” music.

It’s probably too late to fix this. But Marvel movies are a musical soundtrack mess. Iron Man had a great rockstar theme (Ramin Djawadi) in his first film. It vanished for the second film. It was replaced in the third film with another killer theme by Brian Tyler, and the theme briefly returns in Avengers: Age of Ultron. But now it’s vanished as if we never heard it.

Same with Thor’s theme. Patrick Doyle made a good one. Tyler enhanced it. Then in Age of Ultron, it’s gone. Marvel must have felt Tyler couldn’t do Ultron by himself.

Captain America’s theme (Alan Silvestri) lasted a few movies. Will Marvel also tire of it?

I’m tired of really coming to love these heroic themes, and then having them disposed along with their original composers. Whatever it takes, I want Marvel to pay for continuing to use these themes even after their composers depart. (This is easy enough for parent company Disney to do with the Star Wars themes.) Add some heroic music consistency for a change.

4. Make room for smaller stories, like Ant-Man.

Ant-Man is underappreciated, and I think a lot of people recognize this. Sure, it follows the formula of Iron Man: Jerk with a heart of gold gets a chance at real heroism, thanks to a technologically advanced suit, then fights an evil villain who makes similar technology. But Ant-Man offered a refreshing turn from Captain America: Civil War, which gave us all but two heroes in one movie and incidentally neglected the need to focus on a central hero.

I’m as big a fan of ensemble-cast Marvel movies as anyone. But even those new characters must take a backseat to the one figure whose name is in the movie title (Captain America). Otherwise you do risk adding too much character “candy” to every story (see no. 8 below).

5. Take a character’s death a little more seriously.

Vol. 2 never presents any real threat to the Guardians themselves. And that’s not just in the usual “heroes never actually lose, so the real tension is how they win” way. Similarly, in Captain America: Civil War, despite all the fan theories about characters dying, no one died at all. Not Steve Rogers. Not even Rhodey, who takes a beating but suffers no lasting harm.

And while it was fun to see Agent Coulson return to TV after his death in The Avengers, I understand Joss Whedon’s reluctance to admit Marvel had undone Coulson’s serious-making death that galvanizes the team. I may also see why Whedon, who was also unfairly condemned for Age of Ultron’s few missteps, ended up going to the DCEU for a try at Batgirl, which will likely share Whedon’s love for female heroes and surprising, significant deaths).

In Marvel Cinematic Universe films, permanent death is an exception, not the rule. This needs to stop, or else we can’t take the Marvel films even somewhat seriously.

And no, the stories don’t need to kill a person we’ve come to love (though this might help, and not just by killing someone we’ve only known as a side character for one or two films). Instead, let us feel actual threat to our heroes. Oddly enough, the earliest Marvel films, Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk, showed greater commitment to actual high stakes. You feel Tony’s in danger in Afghanistan. You feel Bruce Banner could suffer in Brazil. But even later in The Avengers, non-super-heroes Black Widow and Hawkeye are seen in moments of real fear and pain at their situation. And the story doesn’t want to laugh at them.

Thursday: Five More Ways to Fix the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

The Netflix series “13 Reasons Why” has provoked controversy over its attempted portrayal of suicide. But while that series risks making suicide seem edgy and powerful, the heroes of the Orange anime do their best to prevent their friend’s suicide.

I had heard about about the anime “Orange” by Ichigo Takano, but hadn’t thought much about watching. Then the series was mentioned in a friendly exchange with someone with Redeemed Otaku podcast, so I decided to give it a shot.

Orange anime story

Now in their mid-twenties, Naho Takamiya and her four closest friends from high school meet to dig up a small time capsule they had buried ten years before.

They also meet to remember their friend Kakeru Naruse, who had died in an accident not longer after the time capsule was buried.

Ten years earlier, Naho Takamiya is preparing to start her second year of high school, when she receives a letter from the person she will be ten years in the future. The letter tells her of events that will happen during the school year–things the future Naho regrets doing or not doing, and she wants her past self to do differently. Much of what the future Naho writes about concerns a new student named Kakeru Naruse. He’s fated to fall in love with Naho. He is also fated to die in an accident, that might not have been truly an accident.

This series excels at developing its characters. Friends interact with each other very much like how one might expect a group of high-school friends to act.

Given the speculative element of the time-traveling letters, it also makes sense that the older people would want to try to tell their younger selves how to act in certain situations, especially regarding something as serious as a friend committing suicide.

The story kinda-sort explains its time-travel element with references to black holes and parallel universes. But it stays focused on the characters and what they want to do. Often their desires involve sacrifice–especially a sacrifice the oldest friend, Suwa, is honest enough to show his younger self, by showing himself the future he might lose by saving his friend’s life.

Orange anime regrets

In “Orange,” older people want their younger selves to avoid actions they have grown to regret.

During their high-school time, Naho often falters in her attempts to follow her older self’s advice so she would not live with those regrets. Kakeru suffers the guilt and regret of his mother’s death, and is challenged by his friends’ attempts to cheer him up and help bear his burdens (once very literally).

I loved watching these people really try to help each other, especially their weakest and suffering friend. They will not give up on Kakeru; they won’t even simply let events play as their future selves foretold until Kakeru ends up taking his own life. Their admirable and noble actions, and mature wisdom in boldly preventing suicide, is striking.

However, the five friends’ solution ends up being: share more friendship and love. This comes as too much like putting a bandage over a mortal wound. To be sure, human friendship and love are good gifts from God. But should we put such faith in these gifts? Can Naho really be sure she can pull Kakeru back from the edge? What if he is ever again overwhelmed by guilt and regret? Can any person really keep themselves, let alone another person, from feeling pain or doing things they will regret later on?

Even if you can prevent a person from dying by his own hand, that person will eventually die anyway, through some means.

This shallow solution cannot survive reality. No person can be happy all the time, and no person can keep another person happy all the time. Our problem is simply too deep and profound, too much a part of us, to allow for such a shallow solution.

Orange anime’s real solution: make all things new

Too easily can I think about my past actions and wish I’d done them very differently. I can easily consider my selfish arrogant, and dishonest moments, and the times I supported the wrong things.

However, I’ve found a greater promise in the forgiveness of sins promised in the Gospel of Christ to those who repent and believe in Christ. I have some idea of the truth behind the biblical saying “All our works of righteousness are as filthy rags” (Isaiah 64:6). For me, saying “I am a sinner” is not some kind of attempt at self-righteous boasting about my supposed virtues. Rather it’s a statement of reality from one sinner to others.

As a believer in Jesus, there is some sense in which I am already made a new creature. But I find a greater comfort in the Bible’s promises in Revelation 21: that there will come a time when God will make all things new.

People like to say, “The Gospel is for Christians too,” and this is true. Christians need to be encouraged to do good works motivated by this truth. But we must also remember what God has done for us. While we are still living as both justified and sinful people who are not completely sanctified, we must remember that we are not saving ourselves. Christ of His own choosing and by His Father’s will made the sacrifice for our sins. When guilt and regret haunt us, only this fact about Him and us provides us true comfort.

“Orange” is a fairly good series. It’s well-written and has many very moving moments. Of course, you should watch it with discernment, and not just let the emotional moments cover over its weak ideas. You might find it worth a look.

I had high expectations for this movie. The first Guardians installment ranks among my favorite Marvel films, mainly because it wasn’t afraid to blaze a different trail in the superhero movie genre.

I hoped Guardians 2 would provide the same adventurous, fun-filled ride.

**This review will be FREE of spoilers, so feel free to forge ahead if you haven’t seen the movie yet**

A Tale of Two Movies

As the end credits rolled, I turned to my girlfriend whose expression of mixed feelings mirrored my own reaction. What had we just watched? A movie that didn’t know what it wanted to be when it grew up.

I can’t remember watching a movie with such a stark contrast between the first and second halves. That disparity matches the mixed bag of opinions surfacing about Guardians 2.

Part 1: What’s going on?

I know a lot of people loved Guardians 2, and while I enjoyed it, I found its overall structure lacked cohesion.

The plot felt disjointed, pulled in too many directions without any clear indication which thread was driving the story. There were hints, but nothing defining. As if the writers were so absorbed in cranking out the humorous lines and playing to the strengths of the first film that they overlooked the need to create a compelling plot.

Was it fun? Sure.

Did it keep me entertained? For the most part, yes.

But I kept wondering when the main action would begin and what the point of the story was (besides the major part featuring a new character…if you’ve seen it, you know what I’m talking about). Looking back, I see the plot arc more clearly, but in the middle of the theater the view wasn’t so apparent.

What made this problematic was the approach. The sense of mystery and uncertainty seemed accidental, not intentionally woven into the plot to keep us leaning forward and guessing where the next turn would take us.

That left the humor, disconnected story threads, and character interactions to carry the burden. All those elements worked well, but without the guiding force of a purposeful plot, the movie suffered.

Part 2: Aha! Now it makes sense and is getting cool.

Somewhere along the way, it started making sense. The pieces clicked into place, the narrative took on deeper meaning, and the story pulled me in.

Motivation became clear. Character goals crystallized. I found myself invested in what would happen.

Plot twists sent the story spinning in new directions, and through it all, the interplay among the characters became more intriguing, more moving, more compelling.

Then the story climax arrived, which I found riveting. Yes, it was a typical save-everybody-from-destruction climax (it’s a superhero movie, after all), but with a few key nuances that tweaked the formula enough to make it work. It also wrapped up certain character arcs in beautiful ways.

And in a film heavy on explosions and chases, notes of poignant drama drifted in, providing a tasteful, satisfying conclusion.

Digging Deeper

The first Guardians film filled the category of romping adventure. While Guardians 2 maintained much of the same vibe, it also drilled deeper into the characters. It’s ironic, really. In an age where superhero movies are all about the action, the big booms, and the crazy plots, the characterization in Guardians 2 stood out as the strongest element.

Certain characters received more attention this time around, with backstories that made sense and helped explain their motivations. Rather than being static chess pieces on the board, they became real, living people (aliens?) with hurts, regrets, desires, reasons for their actions.

The main five didn’t receive as much in-depth rounding to their characters. However, baby Groot. Even more adorable than advertised in the trailers.

Another strong point was the balance the movie struck between intense and calm scenes. The action didn’t overwhelm the quieter moments, and indeed, the character-driven parts were the most engaging.

Overall, Guardians 2 was good but not fantastic. Certainly not as balanced and compelling as the first movie.

Should you watch it? Absolutely…because baby Groot. If Guardians 2 taught us anything, it’s that a cute, talking sapling redeems a host of other story issues.

What did you think of Guardians of the Galaxy 2?