Mutant Mayhem (2023) and Its Grotesque Rizz
My personal relationship with the
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles brand is a weird one: On the one hand, I closely
associate them with my childhood thanks to the 2003 animated series, which
felt/feels like a staple of my Saturday morning TV-watching—and I more
routinely than one might think remember an episode that I hope actually exists
where the Turtles employed meditation while adrift in space to prevent
themselves from using up their oxygen—but, on the other hand, I don’t think I
could call myself a fan given my overall lack of contact/interest, despite the
fact that I was one of the eight or so people who enjoyed the 2016 Mutants
in Manhattan video game (and played the shell out of it). (And give or take
the 2007 TMNT film and the video game based on it.) The 2023 Mutant
Mayhem caught my attention when I saw a clip of Splinter’s solo fight from
late in the movie posted on Twitter. Although somewhat visually
reminiscent of the influential Spider-Verse movies (2018/2023), which I
have pretentiously already decided is passé, after a few rounds of imitation,
it still caught my eye because of the fun fight choreography and some un-Spider-Verse-like
quirks.
The animation and character designs of Mutant
Mayhem conspire to give the movie an almost claymation-esque look, a real
physicality, like you could reach into the screen, pluck out a figure of your
choice, and put them right on your shellf. The crafty look extends to certain
textures and effects, like the skin of the Turtles and explosions, which have a
noticeably hand-drawn quality to them at times. At the risk of leaning on too
little Turtle knowledge, this may be one of the pieces of TMNT media that best captures
the indie grubbiness and even grotesquerie of the original comics. It’s not a
one-to-one match but more so spiritually accurate: As much as I feel a certain
closeness with the 2003 series, it is exceptionally clean- and
conventional-looking by contrast.
Those Turtles are muscular, big,
superheroic, uncannily human figures with pumpkin-shaped, ostensibly reptilian
faces mounted on their necks like costumery. Meanwhile, their Mutant Mayhem counterparts
continue the trend(?) of giving each brother a more distinct silhouette, and it
also renders them simultaneously squat and gangly. (Goblincore.) This is
broadly also true of every other character in the film, human or otherwise. It
massively contributes to the indie-y, comic-y vibe I mentioned before and also facilitates
a certain “goopy” approach to visuals and humor that makes this discussion of
the film a weirdly appropriate follow-up to the last thing I wrote about a
different Nickelodeon-associated movie, the 2006 Barnyard: The Original
Party Animals, which had similarly gremlinian, uncomfy vibes, with its
be-uddered male cows and creepy humans. I indulged in the supposed shock of it
all for most of that little piece but then came clean in the end: “[W]hile the
visual style is grotesque. . . . kids love weird and messed-up-looking stuff. .
. .” A great example of this design working its magic in Mutant Mayhem is
how a repeated joke about the Turtles being… “milked” by humans
doesn’t come off as excessive/ill-fitting because it is in harmony with the
Look of the movie. Ditto how this version of April O’Neil comedy vomits
on-camera a couple of times, the first time in an excessive fashion. This would
not “work” if the characters didn’t look like they do—if April was the
bombshell some complainers wanted her to be.
And here’s a bit more of a potential
reach: The fact that even the humans of the film look like mutants works well
thematically and narratively as the two groups eventually come together in the
finale. All along, they were not so different (at least visually), and the
self-segregation and/or world domination proposed by Turtle mentor-father
Splinter and his antagonistic counterpart, respectively, were not actually
justified. (No longer a sweet little critter nor a properly-proportioned
Adult—Were we not all, at one point in time, “teenaged” “mutant” “turtles”?) There’s
a big-ness to the action climax that was surprisingly functional to me. There
are a lot of mutant characters introduced in the film that all have to play a
role along with the Turtles, Splinter, April, and other assorted human New
Yorkers, but it doesn’t end up feeling like we skipped some theoretical other
installment in a series or like there’s too much going on. In this way, it
reminds me of the first Spider-Verse in a positive way—That movie was
similarly coherently stuffed. I came away happy with the amount of character
(in more than one sense of the word) onscreen. This is partly due, in Mutant
Mayhem, to some infectiously charismatic performances. Ice Cube’s
villainous Superfly was a standout for me. The character’s appearance, writing,
and the vocal performance all manage to successfully balance humor and credible
menace. Some of his more casual-sounding utterances when he becomes a chimeric
titan amalgamation of various animals for the climactic confrontation just
charmed me because of the obvious juxtaposition: He’s sort of just a dude
despite his massive size (and legs made of horses).
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| To quote my review of the erotic thriller Miller's Girl (2024), "I'm sure Seth Rogen is a consummate professional. . . ." |
The fact that the writing is good in Mutant
Mayhem is a bit of a surprise given that it credits four different people
with the “Story” and five with the screenplay. I’m not some sort of
auteurism obsessive, but I do subscribe to a vague philosophy of “too many
cooks” re. the writing of… anything. On that note, pretending to identify some
element of a singular style in such a morass feels inherently silly, and yet there
is part of me that likes to imagine a certain, discernible Seth Rogen-ish-ness
(and/or Evan Goldberg-ism) in the writing. It’s apparent with, I think, the way
the Turtles chill and riff with one another. Nobody’s holding a joint, but
there’s a… smoky congeniality. I’d go so far as to say that the bits where the
brothers are yapping are the highlight, not so unlike Adam Sandler’s Grown
Ups movies (2010/2013). It’s just fun to be hanging out here, and it’s also
an appropriately teenagery vibe.
Again, I’m not a TMNT savant, so here I
go a’showing my ass, but: I enjoyed just how teenager-like and “modern”
this iteration of the Turtles feels. They’ve got smartphones; they’re filming
short-form video content dumbass-ing around with their weapons; they say “rizz”
and “sus”; they’re extremely Wikipedia- or YouTube-brained in
their wide-ranging, cross-generational pop culture references, and the fact
that the anime/manga Attack on Titan is not just briefly referenced but is
also a critical part of the plan to defeat the transformed Superfly gives the
proceedings an especially contemporary, internet-soaked quality, to me. And the
childishness and doofiness dovetail with the visuals to make such a
satisfyingly cohesive whole. Any criticism of, say, April’s appearance or the
Turtles’ use of not-so-timeless slang ignores the fact that this is such a
complete package because all these elements are in harmony with one another, a
fun bit of critical contrast given the metastatic Look at its pulsing, green,
veiny center.

