Adventures in Streaming: Anjaan – Rural Myths

* reviews of things i found on (mostly) netflix *

* now with spoilers *

The series Anjaan: Rural Myths takes a look at local myths and urban legends from across India.

I know very little about Indian myths or urban legends, so I was eager to have them presented by people from within the culture. I was not disappointed – the illustration of the myths was creative, engaging, and suitably eerie; nothing was presented in a way that made it inaccessible to those not familiar with the culture.

It’s sometimes hard to assess acting ability when the actors are speaking in a language I don’t know, and I try to stay open to acting styles that aren’t what I’m used to but may be preferred in another culture. That said, some of the acting seemed a bit melodramatic, and some of the emotional transitions were abrupt and therefore not as believable. But overall, the acting was good, the atmosphere consistently creepy, and the visual effects were decent.

These myths are true horror, so don’t expect a lot of happy endings – even the most determined heroes and heroines are usually thwarted by the supernatural enemy (or at the least, the enemy gets away). Usually, it’s clear to the audience what the characters have “done wrong”, so some of the enemies’ victories are a little frustrating in their needlessness. Other times, the characters seem to be doomed no matter what they choose, or the enemy is obviously unstoppable.

Some of the tales are similar to legends in my own culture, while others are completely new to me, and are sometimes grounded in local occurrences that I’m not too familiar with … but in the end, people are people, fear is fear, and the stories come across really well even to an outsider who might be missing some of the subtler elements.

If you’re looking for a fairy tale, you won’t be happy with Anjaan: Rural Myths. But if you’re looking for a bit of horror, this series delivered.

popcorn icon 7 out of 10

Adventures in Streaming – Switched

Switched

Switched is a live-action limited series from Japan that tells the story of an unattractive and unpopular high school girl who has switched bodies with an unwitting victim: the popular, pretty girl with a handsome boyfriend.

The story is well-told; the characters are deeply believable. No one is one-dimensional – in fact, if anything in the character feels stereotypical for more than a moment, the show immediately switches to that character’s personal journey and unique circumstance and perspective. Nothing and no one presented is ultimately what it/they seemed to be in the beginning.

The “science” involved in the switching of bodies is … creative. It’s also fairly glossed over; we’re just expected to accept the “specialist” Ukon’s word about what causes the phenomenon and what the procedure should be. But it is consistent, and the audience is always aware of what the characters are doing and what they will need to do going forward. Even though it is glossed over, the characters’ acceptance of it makes it feel real enough.

The solution is imaginative enough to hold our attention, and the outcome is hard-won enough for us to enjoy watching the process and to appreciate the return to the status-quo. The acting is incredibly good – especially for what could have been treated as an after-school-cartoon anime adaptation – and even the secondary characters, whose “dialogue” is largely thematic crowd-support, feel genuine.

The real draw of Switched is the journey that has nothing to do with the “science”, the problem, or the solution; it’s the journey each of the characters take through the switch experience.

If you’ve ever been hurt, if you’ve ever been bullied, if you’ve ever felt invisible … basically if you’ve ever been a human being and at some point a high-schooler, you will see yourself here, not just in Umine (the unhappy character who initiated the switch), but in the people she envies. As our assessments of the characters shift with each episode, we have to look at our own habits of stereotyping and compartmentalizing – putting the characters in the boxes we’ve devised and siding with the characters we feel are “good” … only to have our notions challenged in the next episode by the characters’ unexpected actions, ethics, and personalities. We get to hear the inner thoughts of each of the girls, and we see from the beginning not that one is bad and the other a victim, but rather that each girl has feelings, confusion, fears and anger that they struggle to resolve.

One of the bigger lessons – which we discover right away – is that no matter what body you inhabit or whose life you have stolen, you bring yourself with you. Without inner changes, your life will continue just as it did in your original circumstance, and you will only be ruining someone else’s life as well as your own. Another lesson, of course, is for the four main characters to develop compassion, forgiveness, hope and love for one another and for themselves. But one lesson I didn’t particularly expect is the one for the audience: our various nemeses (especially those pesky ones from school that might be decades ago now) – how real have we allowed them to be? How willing have we been to see their situations, their fears, their youth, their humanity? How much of our fear or sadness was in what we thought others meant, but may have been all in our heads? How many acts of kindness did we miss because we were focused only on our own pain? How much did we bully ourselves? We understand Umine’s pain, but does this really make her the victim? – especially when the target of her actions is one of the people who had tried to connect with her and been rebuffed by Umine’s paranoia. She hasn’t just become her own worst enemy; she’s become exactly the sort of person who doesn’t care how her actions hurt others – the sort of person she despised in the first place.

One of the more heart-wrenching outcomes (for me, at least) was that the character who had shown up the most consistently for his friends was rewarded with … friendship. There is absolutely nothing wrong with friendship; especially in high school, when a thousand little love affairs will seem ridiculous five years later, friendship is the sort of love that actually endures and nurtures and is real. In fact, looking at it that way, perhaps that character won the biggest prize of all – to have true friends, and to know that he had been a true friend to them and helped them through extraordinary adversity. But it seemed as though everyone else learned about themselves and one another – often through his efforts and his steadfastness – and that they were allowed, even when things go back to “normal”, to have a new and different (better) life, while he was brought back to exactly the place he had been. He’s learned just as much as they have, but the narrative “rewards” him by giving him the harshest lesson of all – sometimes no matter how deserving we are of love from someone, we just don’t receive it. Is friendship important? – it’s paramount, and this character would be the first to say so. His example throughout the series is a testament to friendship’s incredible value. But to watch the one you love wind up in the arms of another, and to be able to feel, not jealousy or anger, but instead gratitude for the person’s friendship and for the person’s happiness … this is the sort of person Switched is asking us to be, and it is, I believe, the hardest thing to learn to do.

The other characters learned that lesson through their experiences in the narrative, but when we see it happen to this character at the very end of the story – that is when we learn the lesson. We’ve seen what he’s like, what friendship can be, and we want him to be rewarded with every conceivable thing. We don’t think that what he’s left with is enough. … But he of all people would say that he indeed has more than enough. I know we’re being asked to believe him – that was the lesson we were supposed to take away from this series – but frankly I don’t know if I’m there yet. … or maybe wanting more for him, for his happiness, is learning the lesson.

I recommend Switched for a thousand reasons.

popcorn icon  10 out of 10.