I was never a DC Comics fan. Superman: invulnerable, strongest being in the universe, so where’s the challenge? Batman: just shoot the guy, will ya, Joker? And what’s with all these Bizarro Worlds and Alternate Earths? Let’s not forget the relative idiocy of the populace: all Superman had to do was put on a pair of nerd glasses and everyone was baffled. And, gee, look at all that expensive, state-of-the-Batman-art cars and batcopters and batarangs. Wonder who could afford to build those? And that young ward of his…nah, couldn’t be Robin.
So I wasn’t expecting much when I started watching the Netflix series, Arrow. Granted, I didn’t know that much about Green Arrow.
I’d seen the character around and he seemed like a badass, but I didn’t pay attention to him so no preconceptions (other than it was a DC character) when I started watching. And, well, I liked the show, primarily for one reason: Arrow killed bad guys. He downright killed ’em, no second thoughts, and in such a medieval manner. My kind of guy.; the anti-Batman, if you will. And for those of you who are falling down in utter snitfits right now, please understand I subscribe to the Old West theory that there are some people who just need killin’: Ted Bundy, ISIS fighters, that ilk.
There were, of course, many things about Season 1 that irritated. The island back story just got downright weird. The earthquake machine to destroy a whole section of town because somebody lost somebody there: excessive overreaction much? And all the rich guys are in on it? C’mon. But, hey, DC, so I shook it off and pressed on.
Now, it is the second season and…now, it has become comic booky. DC-ooky. You know what I mean, characters who react to situations in a way that only a 12-year-old DC fan would find plausible. F’rinstance, Laurel now hates the Hood because he didn’t do enough to save Tommy, but really she’s feeling guilty for her little fling with Oliver before she chose Tommy. Geez, talk about convoluted. And her father has been busted down to patrolman and isn’t allowed to do any detective work, even though he knows more about some serial killer than just about everyone else. Geez, talk about union rules. And, get this, Arrow has decided to become Batman, and not kill anybody anymore.
Geez, talk about your political correctness.
And the density of the DC populace continues. First of all, just about everybody within five feet of Oliver knows he’s the Arrow because he pretty much told everybody within five feet of him that he was the Hood…or Vigilante…or Arrow, whatever…and they weren’t exactly the kind of people to keep secrets. But Laurel and her father still don’t know, even though they talk straight at Arrow and hear his voice and choice of words and the way he walks and the way he talks and even gaze intently at his barely concealed face. Little black mascara around the eyes, doncha know. It’s like Clark Kent’s glasses, I guess.
And the island back story is getting even weirder.
Oy.
Still, though, I’ll stay with it. Why?
Black Canary.