Good Idea/Bad Idea: Kubo vs. Alicorn Immortality Stories · 4:44pm Sep 4th, 2016
Warning: Major spoilers from the movie Kubo and the Two Strings abound. If you haven't seen this movie yet, why the heck are you reading this? Go, now!
So, you may remember a few years ago, I wrote this blog post about the Immortality Sucks story, or as it's properly known in troper circles, the Who Wants to Live Forever? trope. For those who don't know, this trope denounces immortality by saying characters who live forever are miserable because they have to watch everything die around them. If you've been on this website for a certain amount of time, you've probably come across this story at least once or twice (especially after the Season 3 finale with all the Twilight Sparkle becoming an alicorn hoopla).
Now, I've denounced this trope for being incredibly pretentious and insulting to the fundamental natural phenomenon known as adaptability. Characters who lament immortality are portrayed as basket cases who can't possibly bear the thought of living while their loved ones die. And instead of forming new connections and adjusting to their circumstances, they continue to complain and lament and remain stuck. That's not to say that there aren't people who are incapable of moving on; that is a problem in our society. But it shouldn't be. And it certainly shouldn't apply to a character who's smarter than to let such things bring her down, like Twilight Sparkle.
So, can this trope work? Certainly. The best example that I've seen on this site would be A Draconequus' Guide to Immortality, where it's Discord of all people who explains that whether you're mortal or immortal, not much has changed. It takes a balanced look at the concept rather than outright demonizing it, and I'm all in favor of that. But here's the question. Can the concept of immortality be demonized without being pretentious?
I found out last night that the answer to that question is a resounding yes. And below the page break, I'll explain why.
Kubo and the Two Strings is a movie that I was looking forward to since I saw its first trailer earlier this year. It just combined so many things that I liked. Ancient folklore, stop-motion animation (a very under-appreciated style thanks to the advent of CG), an interesting setup involving storytelling and music, and a frankly awesome cover of While My Guitar Gently Weeps (which if you're not going to see the movie, at least listen to that cover). Last night, I decided to treat myself to a viewing, and I was not disappointed. I could go on and on about the animation, the humor, the music, and the very striking themes of trauma and losing loved ones. But I just want to focus on one point here, and that's how the movie treats the concept of immortality.
The villain of the piece is Kubo's grandfather, the Moon King. When Kubo was young, he took one of his eyes, and now he wants the other one. It's never explained why until the very end, when Kubo finally confronts the Moon King. He says that once Kubo is blind, he will become immortal and be able to live with him in the heavens. Kubo rejects this outright for two reasons. One is that without his eyes, he cannot stare into the souls of other people. He cannot experience empathy. He would be cold and heartless, just like his grandfather. But the other reason, and the one I want you to note, is this one. When the Moon King says he's granting Kubo the power of infinity, Kubo states the following:
Kubo: No. Not infinite. Every story has an ending.
That is a message you don't often see in children's movies. Death is the end of life, but it's nothing to be afraid of as long as we keep the stories of those we've lost alive. And as an argument against immortality, it actually does work. If the only way to become immortal was for me to become indifferent to human suffering, I certainly wouldn't want it.
And honestly, no story that I've seen on this website, not even A Draconequus' Guide to Immortality, even touches on this possibility. Because instead of talking about that very real danger of living forever when everyone else dies whereby you just get numb to everything and lose your ability to empathize with others, they focus on this made-up problem that immortality is constant pain and misery because you can't move on with your life after your friends are gone. So, take notes from Kubo, people. If you want to demonize immortality, this is how you do it.
The Doctor takes companions with a much shorter lifespan than himself for precisely that reason. He refuses to travel with someone who has become immortal because of him and who has mostly lost that empathy out of fear he might lose it himself.
Wow. Just wow.
If MLP touches this trope, I would be very surprised.