"Syndrome" Syndrome: or the Fallacy of "Special"

[Raven Crowking]

Originally Posted by Marius Delphus

I'm not sure this is a tenable position. Surely the writers don't place the movie's message in the mouth of the movie's villain, or of a character who is merely a petulant child at the time the line is delivered.

However, the context of the line is almost universal in the movie, from the little old lady in the insurance office who isn't supposed to be treated as a unique individual to the woman who makes capeless costumes for superheroes and has nothing to do until Bob shows up to the trike kid just waiting for something amazing to happen.

Because the words are stated by only certain characters doesn't mean that they are not contextually demonstrated by almost every character in the film.

How so? The idea (that if everyone is special, then no one is) is left untested by the end of the movie.

Not so. The idea (that if everyone is special, then no one is) within the context of the film is the idea of artificially levelling the playing field (whether by supressing super powers or by artificially reproducing them). That idea is tested when the supers are not allowed to be super any more, and it is shown to be a critical fail by the end of the film.


RC

[Raven Crowking]

Originally Posted by TwinBahamut

Honestly, I don't think the idea of "political correctness" is even a significant factor in this movie.

the incredibles political correctness - Google Search

Or maybe he just watched the "making of" interviews on the DVD. I seem to recall it being discussed, although I may be wrong.


RC

[Umbran]

Originally Posted by roguerouge

In short, if I'm remembering correctly and using the OP's metaphor right, everyone's focused on the CoDzillas of the film because all of the characters are CoDzillas.

I don't think that's a good analogy at all. CoDzillas are noted for their individual ability to handle virtually any situation. A CoDzilla doesn't really need the rest of the party - but a major part of the film is that the Parrs need each other, both in super-action and emotionally.

There's no Mary Jane, no crowd of ordinaries pitching in to help Spiderman in his final fight in the first film...

This is true, but I am not sure it is meaningful.

For our purposes, the only thing that makes someone worthy of our attention in The Incredibles is if they're powerful. Whatever the dialogue says, the underlying structure of the film could be seen to undermine its stated messages.

One must be careful in analysis, not to make a failure to state a given point equivalent to an active statement of the opposite. The show is of finite length, and they must choose a finite number of things to actively say. That does not mean they are making an infinite number of negative statements by omission.

First and foremost, the film is about Bob Parr's family, and their internal relationships. What makes someone relevant to the story at hand is interaction with and impact upon that family - this should not be construed as a statement of "worth", merely of focus.

[roguerouge]

Originally Posted by Umbran

One must be careful in analysis, not to make a failure to state a given point equivalent to an active statement of the opposite. The show is of finite length, and they must choose a finite number of things to actively say. That does not mean they are making an infinite number of negative statements by omission.

First and foremost, the film is about Bob Parr's family, and their internal relationships. What makes someone relevant to the story at hand is interaction with and impact upon that family - this should not be construed as a statement of "worth", merely of focus.

Ordinarily, I'd agree with you, but not in this case. Clearly the concepts of "special" and "normal" are central to the film, which makes the omission of any role for normals a deliberate choice or a revealing error. And there are a lot of normals in the film for The Incredibles to test the characters at work and school. They're not really an omission at all. The creators didn't see them as being relevant or important, which says something about their values.

[Raven Crowking]

Exceptions: The babysitter, Bob's tyrannical boss, the Government Agent, Frozone's wife, the guy trying to commit suicide that sues Bob, the normal boy Violet likes, the normal woman who makes costumes that save their skins, the normal woman who saves Bob (& family) from Syndrome on the island.

[Umbran]

Originally Posted by roguerouge

The creators didn't see them as being relevant or important, which says something about their values.

We may have to agree to disagree, then. I am extremely hesitant to make a claim on someone else's values based on what they failed to say, as opposed to what they did say.

In fiction, there is a very big difference between "focus" and "value". There's any number of important things in the world, but we can only talk about so many of them at a time.

And, by RC's note - there are a number of "normals" in the movie who all do their bit to help the Parrs - specifically Edna Mode (the fashion designer), the Government Agent, and Mirage (Syndrome's assistant). They don't take the same types of actions as the Parrs in physical combat, but there's a good argument the Parrs would have been hosed without them.

[Raven Crowking]

Indeed, it is Mirage who not only releases the Parrs, but gives them the means to reach the mainland in time to save the city. The teacher that Dash torments in the beginning of the film is necessary for his education. The cute boy Violet likes contributes to her happiness. The babysitter allows the rest of the family to follow Bob, without which Syndrome would have won. Edna Mode's costumes also contribute to the Incredible's success. Heck, even the kid on the tricycle urges Bob to do something incredible, which pushes him toward eventually confronting and defeating Syndrome.

The Incredibles are as dependent upon the normals as the normals are upon them.

It is also noteworthy that, when the Incredibles and Frozone are taking down Syndrome, the normal people are happy to see them. They, too, have learned that conformity has turned what was once a colourful existence into something that is instead drab and grey. They are happy to have the colours back again!

Note also the parallels between Bob's insurance boss and Syndrome.

Finally, note that at least one normal is given a "superhero" name in the movie: Mirage. Edna Mode (Mode = Fashion) is also a superheroish alternate identity name. Certainly, Violet is surprised to find the "normal" boy she thinks is special also regards her in the same way. In The Incredibles, specialness does not come from superpowers, but from (1) using your potential for the good of others, and (2) recognizing the potential of others. It is the attempt to squash the potential of others that drives every conflict in the film, and is ultimately shown to be wrong.



RC

[Marius Delphus]

Originally Posted by Raven Crowking

However, the context of the line is almost universal in the movie, from the little old lady in the insurance office who isn't supposed to be treated as a unique individual to the woman who makes capeless costumes for superheroes and has nothing to do until Bob shows up to the trike kid just waiting for something amazing to happen.

Because the words are stated by only certain characters doesn't mean that they are not contextually demonstrated by almost every character in the film.

One more time: Syndrome's threat and Dash's lament aren't the message the film is trying to get across. Those statements, coming as they do from untrustworthy sources, should be read as the antithesis of the film's actual message: that when you're true to yourself, you become special. Never settle for mediocrity: aspire higher, serve the collective good (not yourself), and find self-fulfillment (paraphrased from a review).

In the film's first act, we're treated to a world where no one is special, and consequently no one is happy (read: self-fulfilled). Bob's act of kindness at the office, and his clandestine super-heroics, show his craving for a world where this isn't the case. The boy on the tricycle craves the same thing (and incidentally provides a "voice of the viewer" character -- when will the movie live up to its promise, he asks with a wink).

Not so. The idea (that if everyone is special, then no one is) within the context of the film is the idea of artificially levelling the playing field (whether by supressing super powers or by artificially reproducing them). That idea is tested when the supers are not allowed to be super any more, and it is shown to be a critical fail by the end of the film.

As I said, I take the film to be demonstrating instead that when no one is special, no one is. We're shown a world where the supers can't be super, where workers are just cogs in a corporate machine, and where (we're told) mediocrity is celebrated. This is not a world where everyone really is special. Even the superheroes have become coggy to the extent that they're easily duped by what appears to be the world's one extant supervillain. When the "special" people do their thing and are allowed to shine, that's when the situation presented in the movie improves.

[Raven Crowking]

Originally Posted by Marius Delphus

One more time: Syndrome's threat and Dash's lament aren't the message the film is trying to get across.

I believe that the makers of the film have disagreed with you. I won't have time to rewatch the commentary tonight, but I am almost certain that they stated that the message of the film is exactly what Hobo said it was. If I have a chance to get to it this week, I'll be happy to quote them word for word as to the underlying message of the film.


RC

[Raven Crowking]

It could also be that we are talking past each other, because I fail to see where "that when you're true to yourself, you become special. Never settle for mediocrity: aspire higher, serve the collective good (not yourself), and find self-fulfillment (paraphrased from a review)" is the antithesis of the message Hobo claims.

In the opening act, it is Elastigirl who says that everyone is special. Is she an untrustworthy source? It is Dash who (correctly) understands this to mean no one is (a statement you seem to agree with). Is Dash therefore untrustworthy in his observation, or trustworthy? His actions -- his outlet for his frustrations -- are a result of having his abilities artificially levelled by society.

Syndrome, while the villian of the piece, is certainly demonstrably the most clever character in the film. We know from the film that most people who have power use it poorly (normal suing Bob for saving him, the bomb guy, Syndrome, Bob's insurance boss, the mugger, the criminals Bob and Frozone sneak out to stop, Dash in the beginning of the film), because having power =/= being deserving of power.

We are repeatedly shown people who want to drag the world down to their level. Syndrome offers them the power to do just that.



RC

[tyrlaan]

Originally Posted by Henry

Originally Posted by tyrlaan
It's not about feeling somehow less special because power level is balanced, rather all classes play the same in a general sense. In 3e, if all you wanted to do was bash down the door and kill things with your pointy stick, you could do that no problem while your friend spent 20 minutes figuring out which spell to cast on their turn.

But is your friend getting skipped for 20 minutes, or are you waiting for 20 minutes while the DM stops the action so that your friend decides? That was one stated problem in the gap between 3E and 4E.

If that's what you picked out of my comment, I think you may have missed my point.

My point is that a wizard plays different from a fighter in 3e. Drastically different. In 4e, this just isn't the case anymore. I'm not passing judgment one way or the other, but that is the crux of my point and my explanation on how I've heard the "everyone is special so no one is" quote come across.

[Mustrum_Ridcully]

Originally Posted by tyrlaan

If that's what you picked out of my comment, I think you may have missed my point.

My point is that a wizard plays different from a fighter in 3e. Drastically different. In 4e, this just isn't the case anymore.

Except people disagree about that. I, for example.

I don't play my Wizard like a Fighter. I don't run into melee, I don't try to provoke enemies into striking me instead of my comrades. And that's just the core difference.

There is a difference whether you have heat vision or super speed. Both is special, but don't tell me that Flash is the same as Cyclops.

[Celebrim]

It's impossible to discuss the movie in any depth without getting overly political, because it is a highly politically charged movie where Brad Bird voices all sorts of political statements covertly, from the value and inherent dignity of motherhood, to criticism of a litigation centered culture, to social libertarianism.

I can't discuss that or my opinion of it, but I can point out several things.

The movie has three villains, each of which represents a deranged version of the libertarian ideas Bob represents. Each of them in some fashion misuses their individual rights in a selfish way that works to destroy those very rights.

1) Oliver Sansweet, the man who sues Bob for saving him from himself (and his pack of lawyers): "Mr. Sansweet didn't ask to be saved. Mr. Sansweet didn't want to be saved...You didn't save my life! You ruined my death, that's what you did!" - Oliver Sansweet is challenging the right of an individual to intervene in anothers life. Oliver Sansweet defeats Bob. The world Sansweet creates with the help of his lawyers is one where no one can intervene in anyones life save through faceless bureaucracies, communication by lawyers, and impersonal bureaucratic jargon. He creates a world filled with fear, where no one is willing to risk standing out because even if they try to help, they'll be punished. And since no one can stand out, it's a world without heroes. Society tries to console itself for its loss by saying that the world is now filled with everyday heroes, but without rights the individual proves to have no power, as we see from the next villain...
2) Bob's boss at the insurance agency: Bob is trying to save the world one policy at a time. He tries to help, but he faces the same obstacles to being an ordinary hero as he faced being an extraordinary one. He's forced to act covertly. He lives in fear of lawyers and the corporation he works for. "We're supposed to help our people! Starting with our
stockholders. Bob a company is like an enormous clock." Bob's boss believes no matter what the team comes first. The individual should be a 'cooperative cog', and that a person's real job is to help the team succeed and only the team succeed. When Mr. Huph is informed that someone needs help, his only concern is whether or not they would be legally required to help: "Well, let's hope we don't cover him." He's not interested in duty or compassion. He's interested in the team (and hense himself) getting ahead. Mr. Huph defeats Bob. Bob's exceptional ability is of no value compared with Mr. Huph's authority and position in the world of lawyers, restrictions, and companies. When Bob loses it, Mr. Huph ultimately wins.
3) Syndrome: Contrary to what you might think, Syndrome is a super like Bob. Syndrome (like Edna) is a 'gadgeteer' - a super with the incredible ability to make things. Syndrome doesn't however want to help other people. Syndrome wants to be liked and admired. Where as Bob does what he feels he must whether he gets rewarded, thanked or not, Syndrome only really cares about the rewards - fame, respect, power, wealth. This isn't real heroism though. It's just the mask of heroism. Bob is a hero who wears a mask (whether an actual mask or the mask of being ordinary) to disguise his heroism, Syndrome is a self-centered individual that wears the mask of a hero. Syndrome's threat, "And when everyone's super...no one will be.", isn't really credible. Syndrome isn't actually going to share. If he wanted to share, he would have done so. He might be lying to himself or to Bob, but Syndrome simply isn't the sort that is trying to help or enable others. Syndrome is much more honest when Bob gets him monologuing, "Now you respect me, because I'm a threat. That's the way it works." Personal power as far as Syndrome is concerned isn't to help others, but to push down, intimidate, and subjegate others.

"Everyone's special, Dash....Which is another way of saying no one is."

After Oliver Sansweet, the world becomes afraid of anyone standing out as special. Everyone is required to be ordinary. People are punished for winning (being heroic) and rewarded for losing (failing to help others). No one wants an inspiration. Oddly, the world didn't become afraid of heroes because of someone like Syndrome. They didn't become afraid of people using their power to oppress them, they became afraid of people actually helping them. Consequently they live in a world were everyone is oppressed reutinely. What they didn't count on is that although they could take away everyone's freedom to be heroic, they couldn't prevent people from using their talents to oppress them precisely because those people didn't care about their rules. Only the people who actually cared to help were punished.

Bob tries to be a heroic insurance agent, but fails. Helen is heroicly being a mother, but even she is failing at the task because she's forced to push down and suppress her children to get them to confom. But as a result her children are unprepared to deal with real life or to stand on their own, which means she's failed at her most basic job - getting her children ready to live their lives without a parent. Her children can only survive in a world of mediocrity. When something real happens, they don't know what to do despite the fact that they are extraordinarily capable individuals.

The message of the movie is that we can't escape our need for heroes and that we can't let envy and greed rule the society. Everyone has a role. Everyone isn't born 'incredible', but its worth noting that you don't have to be incredible to be a hero. Nobody in the movie could have done what Bob did, but anybody could have been the hero Bob was trying to be at work or the mother Helen was trying to be at home. They just weren't, in part because they didn't have any heroes to inspire them to do so. Everyone had to help and support everyone else, and it was ok to celebrate extraordinary accomplishment if it was done in the service of everyone.

[Mustrum_Ridcully]

Interesting post, and I think it makes sense to me.

An interesting question, going back to the origin of the discussion - what would this really mean for a game? Do we need - inside the game - people playing the "mother trying to be heroic" alongside the mother with superpowers, so to speak? Or isn't the role of the game to let us play the one with superpowers we can hope to aspire to in real life?

Do their need to be weak player characters with no special abilities alongside "special" player characters to make this kind of point?

Or is this actually missing the point of playing characters in a roleplaying game? We play the game to be as "special" as we can't be in real life?

[Marius Delphus]

I agree that the film issues a warning about suppressing that which is special and settling for the average or (worse) the lowest common denominator. I disagree that it's the film's message, as I've explained.

Helen is correct, but her world hasn't really caught on. Dash and Syndrome are not correct. Just because everyone is special doesn't mean everyone has the same capabilities or deserves the same accolades; just because everyone is special doesn't mean Dash's speed isn't special, or Bob's (moral and physical) strength isn't special... et cetera. Helen and Dash, too, are talking past each other: she doesn't mean "special" the way he and Syndrome do.

Anyway, I think I've more than amply explained my views. I'm fine with agreeing to disagree.