Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. This week a project my housemates idly began years ago neared its conclusion, as we approached the very last episodes of Dragon Ball Super. Having burned through One Piece, Bleach, Naruto, Boruto, and the variable Dragon Ball sagas over the last thirty-some months, I can affirm that basically all of them are worthy second-screen entertainment, with portions of each rising to the level of appointment viewing. The shonen titans are eminently munchable comfort food, and it’s been particularly rewarding to gain a better understanding of the standout animators and directors who helped elevate the highlights of each. Let’s start with Super then, as we ramble through a fresh Week in Review!
Actually, let’s start with the Buu Saga, as I believe our last point of reference was the Great Saiyaman prologue that opened Z’s final era. Though it’s not immune to the circular power level one-upmanship and tedious “trapped in a snake” narrative delays that haunt all of Z’s arcs, Buu nonetheless demonstrates Toriyama in a more energetic, inventive headspace than anything since the original Dragon Ball. The Saiyaman arc offers an obvious example, as the Z warriors attempt to get along in society, and Gohan juggles academic ambitions with campy costumed escapades. Heck, there’s even genuine character chemistry – Gohan and Videl actually seem to like each other, and young semi-saiyans Trunks and Goten evoke a friendly rivalry calling back to Goku and Krillin’s own distant training.
With the advent of the first World Martial Arts Tournament since the original Dragon Ball, Toriyama again calls back to a playfulness and character-driven energy reminiscent of Goku’s first adventures. Vegeta has shifted from a cackling menace to a thoroughly housebroken husband, offering an endearing continuation of Dragon Ball’s not-so-secretly best character journey. Krillin and 18 make for a delightfully lopsided pair, while Piccolo and Gohan take advantage of the peaceful scenario to gently emphasize their father-son bond. There’s comedy, a variety of creative battles, and a general sense of possibility; it’s really just classic Dragon Ball material, through and through.
Things eventually slow down with the introduction of the arc’s villains, which is to be expected, as Toriyama simply cannot write a compelling villain. All of his antagonists want to destroy things Just Because, while simultaneously leaning into his tendency to ratchet up tension by introducing new forms and power-ups, rather than raising the stakes in any sort of tangible, dramatically meaningful way. Meanwhile, Goku stands among Dragon Ball’s least interesting protagonists – he simply wants to Fight And Get Stronger, with any bursts of genuine human emotion coming across more as authorial flourishes than consistent reflections of some underlying personhood. There are plenty of bright spots on the way to the top (Vegeta’s acknowledgment of his new values, Satan and Buu playing house), but the closer any arc gets to that eventual Goku versus the villain confrontation, the less interesting it becomes.
Nonetheless, the highlights of the Buu Saga, and its general policy of reintroducing comedy, variable conflicts, and a wider cast of significant characters, place it in the upper echelon of Z eras. As such, I was happy to see this trend continue into Super, which similarly embraces a wider variety of conflicts and a more ensemble approach. Things start off strong with the introduction of Beerus, who swiftly transitions from a fickle, eminently cat-like antagonist and “God of Destruction” to essentially the replacement for the fairly one-note King Kai, who alongside his mentor Whis forges a cuisine-centric friendship with Bulma.
This is the first of many ways Super reasserts Bulma’s main character status, a key return to Dragon Ball form with a variety of positive secondary effects: diversifying the drama’s modes of conflict, providing some necessary comedic pushback to the stalwart saiyan perspective, facilitating more recognizably human stakes, and reasserting the overall Z warrior community as essential parts of the cast. Plus, Bulma’s simply great: confident and snarky, intelligent yet fallible, and “strong” in a way that pushes against Dragon Ball’s all-too-frequently binary conflicts. While many shonen manga to come would establish their own version of the Goku-Vegeta dynamic, I only wish they were similarly studious of Bulma’s essential contributions. One Piece, at least, is far greater for its inclusion of the Bulma-derivative Nami.
After a misguided resurrection of Frieza and all the dull “I’ll power up” “Well then I’ll power up” “Well then I’ll power up more”-style conflict he entails, Super continues to embrace both the action theatrics of Z and the more diverse comedy- and character-focused material of the original Dragon Ball. Bulma continues to delight both in her own right and as a frequent riffer on the more preposterous saiyan tendencies, the extended Z warrior family all get their moments to shine, and conflicts vary from cross-universal conspiracies to copious tournaments, with single fights or opponents rarely stretching beyond concise handfuls of episodes. It’s energetic, it’s inventive, and it’s self-aware in a way that exudes both love for this venerable franchise and an acknowledgment of its eccentricities. There is a great satisfaction in seeing someone finally call Goku out on his total detachment from familial responsibility, all the more so when that callout comes from the once-tyrannical, now-lovable Vegeta (“you think kissing is… gross? Kakarot, you have multiple children”).
Alongside all these Dragon Ball shenanigans, I also found some time for Zombi 2, Lucio Fulci’s unofficial sequel to Night of the Living Dead, which was released as “Zombi” in Italy. In spite of its unusual origins, Zombi 2 has become a horror classic in its own right, standing as one of the premiere entries in Fulci’s gore-soaked filmography. I can easily see why; Zombi 2 takes some time to ramp up, but once the invasion’s in full swing, it offers some of the most thrilling, grotesque, and altogether generous spectacles among zombie movies.
The film follows several Americans on their journey to a remote island, in search of a doctor who’s grappling with some horrible plague. Upon arrival, they find the island nearly deserted, and the doctor they were seeking preoccupied with saving its few living inhabitants. Apprehension turns to panic as the situation escalates, and our Americans soon find themselves attempting to outrace an army of the dead.
Zombi 2 takes longer than I expected to get to that zombie army, but Fulci’s alienating camerawork and the energetic interweaving of the doctor and the Americans’ perspectives successfully turns its first act into one steady, menacing buildup of tension. And when that tension is released, the scenes that follow exemplify why Fulci is considered a master of both horror generally and gore specifically.
Gore-focused horror might bring to mind the mean-spirited excesses of something like Hostel or Saw, but I feel like Fulci deals in a fundamentally different kind of spectacle. The key here is still suspense; the only difference between Fulci and another director is that where they would cut to black, he offers five delirious seconds of practical effect destruction, emphasizing the terrifying fragility of our bodies while still embodying the horror virtues of patience and restraint. This film’s most famous sequence involves an eye and a splintering door, and though the moment of contact is certainly horrifying, what impressed me most while watching was how well that sequence built tension across its leadup, shifting from shadows in mirrors to the certainty of intrusion to that desperate push against the door, hoping against hope that your strength is greater than that of your nightmares. Zombi 2 is a work of both gleeful excess and skillful horror fundamentals; in Fulci’s world, there is space for both symphonies of suspense and a zombie punching a shark.
