max animation: velma & Gremlins: Secrets of the Mogwai

Jinkies! On paper, Velma sounds like a potentially fun time - a satirically deconstructionist Scooby-Doo prequel specifically built around the titular character (voiced by Mindy Kaling), who’s always enjoyed a particularly devoted cult following within Scooby circles. In practice, however… ruh-roh. It’s hard to remember a pilot that more discordantly strikes all the wrong notes than this one (after a while, your facial muscles acclimate to the cringe and just sort of settle into a numb grimace of disbelief). Whatever the show’s intentions, it’s hard to read the tone as anything but aggressively hostile towards its source material. Who on earth is this series for? Not Scooby-Doo fans, that’s for sure. 

This iteration of Velma comes across an awful lot like a Daria clone garbed in a familiar orange sweater - a pariah at Crystal Cove High, who nonetheless embraces her lack of social standing and maintains an open air of smug superiority in regards to her fellow classmates. Meanwhile, Fred (Glenn Howerton) is an entitled and dim-witted man-baby, Daphne (Constance Wu) is a stuck-up mean girl with adoptive lesbian moms, and Shaggy (going by his given name of “Norville”) is a drab straight edge who carries a torch for Velma and feels a lot more like an animated extension of Sam Richardson’s comedic persona than anything Hanna-Barbera related. Well, at least his shirt is green. Ostensibly this is a Mystery Incorporated origin story (God knows how Scooby eventually factors in), even though the main foursome basically detest each other and revel in their own hostile dysfunction. In its rush to establish a tone of ironically detached self-awareness, the show goes scorched earth on its own IP.  ​

The series does commendably commit to a season-long arc, as Velma attempts to unravel the mystery of her mother’s disappearance while a serial killer is busy harvesting brains from popular girls. And if we’re being honest, there’s way too much vocal talent assembled here (Howerton and Richardson in particular, but also the likes of Cherry Jones as Fred’s domineering mother and Wanda Sykes and Jane Lynch as Daphne’s aforementioned moms) for some jokes not to squarely land. But Velma is one of those irritating shows that feels as if its writers were cultivated in some sort of TV incubator - it has little to offer beyond pop culture references and meta-snark. Too many punchlines are punctuated with a whiff of self-congratulation (“It’s just until you’re popular enough to do whatever you want… like a homophobic chicken sandwich chain”). At worst, the series feels more like a fumbling attempt by conservative writers to lampoon their lazy interpretation of “woke comedy” (“Hey, no offense, but can we just let the actual doctor explain? Just being a white guy with a clipboard doesn’t cut it anymore”). In spite of overwhelmingly negative online buzz, the show was renewed for a second season (I watched all ten episodes, so I guess I have no one but myself to blame)… nonetheless, one senses a distinct shift in the cultural sea breeze. There’s less appetite for this brand of snide subversion. It sounds crazy, but most people would rather just celebrate the things they grew up loving, rather than trying to act cool by crapping on them.

Gremlins is an anomaly - the rare 80s classic that’s remained largely untouched and unexploited for nostalgic gain… though it’s not difficult to see why. Few films better exemplify just how hard that decade went, particularly where kids were concerned (the 80’s just hit different, man - why do you think we all revere our Gen-X childhoods so much?) - by today’s standards, it’s literal nightmare fuel (the kitchen scene, with gremlins getting eviscerated in blenders and exploding in microwaves; Kate’s infamous tale of Christmas woe; Stripe graphically melting into a puke-like puddle) - and this was after Chris Columbus’s original script was drastically toned down (no more Billy being greeted by his mom’s severed head being tossed down the stairs). There is simply *no way* this movie could realistically be remade today, regardless of how many cuddly Gizmo dolls Warner Bros. yearns to sell to subsequent generations of kiddie filmgoers.

An animated prequel series, it would seem, was the most palatable compromise. Unlike Velma, Gremlins: Secrets of the Mogwai makes no attempt to dampen its obvious reverence for Joe Dante’s cinematic efforts - when the familiar theme kicks in over the opening titles, it brings a surge of giddy delight. Set in the early 1920s, the show leans heavily on Chinese folklore as it delves deeper into the mythology of the Mogwai (let’s just say it has a lot more to do with Gods and human creation then you might have assumed in 1984). When Gizmo is taken from his village in the Valley of Jade, he winds up in Shanghai as a circus performer… but soon crosses paths with 10-year-old Sam Wing (Izaac Wang) - yes, the old Chinatown antique dealer from the film - who works in his parents’ apothecary shop and is known for his kind soul, if not his aptitude for risk-taking or adventure. Long story short, Sam must team up with hardened street urchin Elle (Gabrielle Nevaeh Green) - who’s all about risk-taking and adventure, but a bit less kind-souled, at least on the surface - to help Gizmo get back home… while being relentlessly pursued by the power-hungry sorcerer/industrialist Riley Greene (Matthew Rhys, chewing the scenery with chest-puffing gusto), who believes ingesting a Mogwai will grant him immortality. ​

The series has more than a little in common with Avatar: The Last Airbender - another animated show filtered through a compelling lens of Eastern mythos that follows a mismatched band of child heroes as they embark on a coming-of-age journey of supreme importance… and it’s probably as much a gauge for potential enjoyment as one’s own fanatical Gremlins fandom. The episodes have a spirited creativity and visual style very much their own. On the downside, the gremlins themselves simply don’t translate as strongly into animated form - they lack the tactile, reptilian presence… the grotesque impact they had when they were rubbery marvels of 80s puppetry (Gizmo, on the other hand, feels more liberated - he’s a fully realized character, as opposed to a merchandising opportunity). Gremlins: Secrets of the Mogwai may not match the anarchic turbulence of the live-action films that inspired it, but it’s still a treat in its own right. This is fan service done correctly - with sincere affection, best consumed before midnight.