Fiona Duncan screened the new Paramount Pictures Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and investigates on April O'Neil's transformation from a 1984 computer engineer to the buxom babe known as Megan Fox.
One’s experience of New York inevitably mutates after a heavy dose of TMNT. The cityscape’s framed anew—it’s as if spotlights are suddenly cast upon shadowy sites, down subway tunnels and sewer grates, places the workday gaze evades. Street surging plumes of steam set your imagination underground. That’s where the Turtles come from.
The original 1983 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic books belonged more to the underground than the mainstream. Black and white and heavy on the shadows, with rough lines and inconsistent faces, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird’s creation was a self-published parody of popular comics like Daredevil, Frank Miller’s Ronin, and Marvel’s many mutants. I only got to know the Ninja Turtles after their 1987 makeover—via the “Green Against Brick” entertainment franchise that included a kid-friendly cartoon, Archie comics tie-in, three live-action films (puppeteered by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop special effects company)—and merch, lots of merch.
TMNT was part of that late-20th century corporate American trend of selling kids identity. Think New Kids on the Block, Power Rangers, and Spice Girls. Which one are you?, the marketing geniuses asked. Are you a leader like Leonardo? A chill jokester like Michelangelo? A tech egghead like Donatello? Or a bad boy like Rafael? Blue? Orange? Purple? Red? Or maybe you’re yellow like April O’Neil. Remember that improbable, canary-yellow “journalist” jumpsuit from which her cartoon curves burst? I do.
In the early '80s comics, April O’Neil is a computer programmer, a role which I gather was then trendily progressive (Time’s Person of the Year in 1982 was “The Computer”). In the animated series, as in the live-action movies, April is an investigative television reporter. In the Michael Bay blockbuster, out in theatres today, she’s the same: “April O’Neil, Channel Six News,” now played by Megan Fox.
We can time travel through media. Since its inception, 30 years back, the setting, characters, and even plots have stayed the same, but the tone changes with each reboot. There’s a dystopic, punk appeal to the 1984 comics. April circa the animated series is a Postmanian, Amusing Ourselves to Death, showbiz anchor. But the new movie, which is produced by Bay and directed by Jonathan Liebesman, depressed the fuck out of me. Formulaic is an understatement. The stereotypes feel sinister. Like please, please don’t feed kids these dated stock characters. And April O’Neil is the worst.
“We took the archetype of April O’Neil,” says Liebesman, “the damsel in distress, and really molded it specifically to Megan... April is a character with a lot to prove. She’s beautiful but everyone doubts her, so we needed an actress who could literally give that sense that there’s far more there than meets the eye.” His latter claim fails in this film, a
One’s experience of New York inevitably mutates after a heavy dose of TMNT. The cityscape’s framed anew—it’s as if spotlights are suddenly cast upon shadowy sites, down subway tunnels and sewer grates, places the workday gaze evades. Street surging plumes of steam set your imagination underground. That’s where the Turtles come from.
The original 1983 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic books belonged more to the underground than the mainstream. Black and white and heavy on the shadows, with rough lines and inconsistent faces, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird’s creation was a self-published parody of popular comics like Daredevil, Frank Miller’s Ronin, and Marvel’s many mutants. I only got to know the Ninja Turtles after their 1987 makeover—via the “Green Against Brick” entertainment franchise that included a kid-friendly cartoon, Archie comics tie-in, three live-action films (puppeteered by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop special effects company)—and merch, lots of merch.
TMNT was part of that late-20th century corporate American trend of selling kids identity. Think New Kids on the Block, Power Rangers, and Spice Girls. Which one are you?, the marketing geniuses asked. Are you a leader like Leonardo? A chill jokester like Michelangelo? A tech egghead like Donatello? Or a bad boy like Rafael? Blue? Orange? Purple? Red? Or maybe you’re yellow like April O’Neil. Remember that improbable, canary-yellow “journalist” jumpsuit from which her cartoon curves burst? I do.
In the early '80s comics, April O’Neil is a computer programmer, a role which I gather was then trendily progressive (Time’s Person of the Year in 1982 was “The Computer”). In the animated series, as in the live-action movies, April is an investigative television reporter. In the Michael Bay blockbuster, out in theatres today, she’s the same: “April O’Neil, Channel Six News,” now played by Megan Fox.
We can time travel through media. Since its inception, 30 years back, the setting, characters, and even plots have stayed the same, but the tone changes with each reboot. There’s a dystopic, punk appeal to the 1984 comics. April circa the animated series is a Postmanian, Amusing Ourselves to Death, showbiz anchor. But the new movie, which is produced by Bay and directed by Jonathan Liebesman, depressed the fuck out of me. Formulaic is an understatement. The stereotypes feel sinister. Like please, please don’t feed kids these dated stock characters. And April O’Neil is the worst.
“We took the archetype of April O’Neil,” says Liebesman, “the damsel in distress, and really molded it specifically to Megan... April is a character with a lot to prove. She’s beautiful but everyone doubts her, so we needed an actress who could literally give that sense that there’s far more there than meets the eye.” His latter claim fails in this film, a