The Audio File: Mija

I always found tales of immigrants to be fascinating. They offer a window into a world that I can only imagine. I often find myself pondering several questions. What would it be like to leave behind the land of my birth? What would it be like to try to assimilate into a totally different culture? What, if any, aspects of my own culture would I preserve and pass on. The audio drama we’re reviewing today deals with these questions, and a lot more. It is the tale of immigrants; their trials and tribulations, their triumphs and tragedies. We’re taking a look at Mija from Studio Ochenta. 

Mija is a story about families of immigrants. Those alive, those long gone, and those still dreaming. Each season is a self-contained story that follows a different family of immigrants. Season one follows a Colombian family in New York, season two follows a Chinese-Vietnamese family in Paris, and season three follows an Egyptian family in London. The story of each family is told by its own Mija, which means “my daughter” in Spanish.

As I said in the intro, stories of immigration have always fascinated me. The Italian part of my dad’s half of the family came to America via Ellis Island, and eventually found their way to New Orleans. We don’t know too much about the German and Irish parts. Meanwhile, my mom’s side of the family has been here since before the American Revolution. In fact, I had a few ancestors who were part of Jamestown. As is often repeated, all Americans, except for Indigenous people, have ancestors who came here from other lands. It was an interesting experience listening to Mija when I did. Immigration has become a hot-button issue as of late.

So, a bit of terminology before we got forwards. The narrators of season one and two are both called Mija. For the sake of convenience, we shall differentiate them as New York Mija and Paris Mija. Technically, the narrator of season three is also a Mija, but she’s more often referred to as Binty, which means roughly the same thing in Arabic. So, we shall call her Binty.

Season one is, in my opinion, the best of the three main Mija seasons. Season one is a very personal story for Studio Ochenta founder Lory Martinez. She drew upon her own experiences and the stories of her family, with some embellishments, to craft season one of Mija. Unsurprisingly, Lory also provides the voice of New York Mija. It was also from season one that I learned where Studio Ochenta got its name from. New York Mija grew up on Ochenta Street in Queens. I wasn’t familiar with that street. So, I looked it up, and realized that I actually did know it, because Ochenta means Eighty in Spanish. It was in that moment that I knew I had brought shame upon all of my Spanish teachers. And to my mom, who lived in the Panama Canal Zone for a few years during her childhood.

Getting back on topic, I could tell from the first episode that this was a very personal story for Lory Martinez. There was love and affection in every aspect of season one. The way she describes New York and Bogota paints such a vivid picture. I felt like I was there along with the characters. The story of season one is not only a tale about immigration, but also a tale about heritage and culture. We get the story of New York Mija’s parents, and how they made a new life in a new land. But we also get the story of her family members back in Colombia. In fact, even that ties into the theme of immigration. Several of Mija’s family members had to move from the Colombian countryside to Bogota as a result of violence from insurgency groups. It was scary, and hard at times, and certainly wasn’t what they planned for. And yet, they built new lives in a new home.

I often saw shades of my own family in New York Mija’s story. The scene where she reveals that she is part of a group text with several members of her extended family was super relatable. My aunt, uncle, and cousins all live in Temecula, which is a suburb of San Diego. So, naturally, we don’t get to see each other often. But we stay connected with the group text and phone calls. My parents are both from South Louisiana, but had to move to North Louisiana to find work as lawyers. For reference, North Louisiana and South Louisiana are basically two different states. My mom has talk about how hard it was for her to be away from her support network when I was first born. And yet, thirty years later, here we all still are. I also learned what a pollo chico is. It’s a chick that sticks very close to its mother hen. So, a mama’s boy, basically. Mija mentions that her dad and brother are both major pollo chicos. I guess I’m also a pollo chico.

Season one of Mija is a story of surviving and thriving, but there is also a strong undercurrent of melancholy throughout it all. For example, Mija’s maternal grandparents weren’t able to attend her parents’ wedding because the U.S. embassy rejected their visa applications. Then there’s also the reasons why the episodes tend to be ten minutes long. Mija’s father worked as a taxi driver, and often long hours at that. Oftentimes, Mija only had ten minutes each morning to really spend time with him. In the final episode, Mija talks about how her extended family doesn’t often get to be together because of how spread out everyone is, and how difficult travel can be. She also reiterates that many immigrant families face this problem as well.

But there is also hope. Throughout season one we are introduced to the concept of el cacumen. It’s kind of like good luck, but there’s more to it than just that. It's kind of like saying that things might be bad, but we’ll make it through somehow. Clearly, everyone who was part of season one of Mija had el cacumen on their side. The central question throughout Mija is, well, what is home? And where is home, for that matter? The answer that Mija goes with is that, where you have family and friends who love you, then that is your home.

I’m not the only person who thinks that season one of Mija is absolutely fantastic. Lory Martinez was interviewed on NPR’s All Things Considered. She discussed the origins of Mija, and various behind the scenes details. There is a slight irony that Lory Martinez has become an immigrant herself. She moved to Paris in 2015, and it is where Studio Ochenta is based. Apparently, her family didn’t take it well at first, but they came to terms with it once they got to listen to season one of Mija.

Mija is not just devoted to its global scope purely in terms of story. Mija is available in multiple languages. Currently, English and Spanish are the only languages that all four seasons are available in. Seasons one and two are available in French, season two is also available in Mandarin, and season three is available in Arabic. However, Studio Ochenta is working to translate all four seasons of Mija.

With the success of season one, there was the obvious question of what to do as a follow up. There could still be more stories from New York Mija, but that didn’t seem right. Though, Studio Ochenta did eventually release a series of short vignettes set in the life of New York Mija and her family. But no, everyone decided that the story of Mija wasn’t just limited to a Colombian family in New York. There are plenty of Mijas all over the world. The question, then, was where to go next?

Studio Ochenta teamed up with Melanie Hong to tell the story of a Chinese-Vietnamese family living in Paris. Season two had some good ideas, and it certainly meant well. However, it was also plagued by some serious growing pains. It was pretty clear that the Mija team were still trying to figure out exactly what the podcast would be going forward. One theme they wanted to emphasize was the common connections between the stories of immigrants. This is all well and good, but the execution left something to be desired. Several bits of Paris Mija’s dialog are copied almost word-for-word from New York Mjia. This is most apparent in the episode that focuses on Paris Mija herself, and in the final episode, especially the twist at the end. We also get an episode where Paris Mija takes us on a tour of Paris; much as New York Mija showed us around Queens. Good idea, but again, undercut by the self-plagiarized dialogue.

I also feel that season two bit off more than it could chew. In season one, there is certainly a feeling that there’s more to the story of New York Mija’s family than we see. However, with season two, it feels like the Mija team tried to squeeze too many ideas into only eight episodes. Paris Mija is unique in that she has a multiethnic background. However, given the limited scope of the season, I felt we didn’t get to explore the two sides of her heritage as much as we could have. Also, her parents are divorced and she has a stepfather, but this doesn’t factor into the plot as much as you might think. Now, as far as narration, Melanie Hong tried, she really did. Unfortunately, she just couldn’t compete with Lory Martinez’s performance in season one. Part of that was down to the lackluster script, but part of it was due to English not being Melanie‘s first language. There were a few times it was kind of hard to understand her, and I had to rewind the podcast a few times.

Now, I want to be clear here. I did not hate season two. It had it’s flaws, to be sure, but it also had plenty of moments where it shined, especially in the later episodes. That all being said, there was still a lot of room for improvement, and I consider it to be the weakest season of Mija.

It would seem that the Mija team were well aware of the need to iron our the kinks. I’m happy to report that season three saw a notable improvement in quality, and a welcome return to form. I’d also like to take a moment to say how grateful I am that the protagonist of season three had a name other than Mija. It makes writing this review that much easier. Season three is structurally inverted compared to its predecessors. The previous seasons start with Mija, then her brother, her parents, a cousin, her grandparents, and then a family reunion. In season three, we go in reverse order. Occasionally, I had trouble keeping track of who was who, but it didn’t take me long to get the hang of things. In other inversions, instead of a force of good fortune, like el cacumen in season one, we get the evil eye, the bringer of woe and misfortune. Binty’s family always tries to remain humble, and avoid boasting, for fear that they may attract the gaze of the evil eye.

The narration also saw a notable step-up compared to last season. Rana Abdelhamid overall does an excellent job with the narration. My only issues is that Binty has lived most of her life in London, but doesn’t have even the slightest trace of a British accent. It just seems a bit odd. Binty also differs in how her story came to be. Unlike the previous season, there’s not a single writer. Rana Abdelhamid and Mona Elboghdadi are the head writers, while Sadia Azmats and Alya Mooro acted as cultural consultants about the Arab/Egyptian-Londoner experience. So, I would assume that Binty contains elements of all four women, making her something of a Franken-Mija.

Binty and her brother move to New York towards the end of the season. I was wondering if New York Mija was going to make an appearance, but no, this never happens. I suppose that was for the best. Season three is supposed to be Binty’s story; there’s no reason to tie it into the stories of the other Mijas. On that topic, season three did a much better job of showing the common connection among the experiences of Mijas and their families. I felt that it did so in a far more organic way than season two did. There’s no repeated dialog to be found. The episodes are also slightly longer than in the first two seasons. This gives season three a bit more breathing room to tell its story.

Another difference I noticed is that we don’t get an episode where Binty takes us around London. In fact, Binty, and to a lesser extent her family, seems to have something of a disdain for London. We get plenty of loving descriptions of life in Alexandria, but not really any of London. In previous seasons, the Mijas and their families took great pride in their new homelands. The previous Mijas also embraced themselves as the blending of multiple cultures. Binty, by contrast, considers herself to be Egyptian first, and everything else second. Binty mentions that, when she was younger, she tried really hard to assimilate. Then, later in life, she really threw herself into her Egyptian heritage. Though, the impression I got was that she simply swung from one extreme to the other. Compared to the other Mijas, Binty seems to still be struggling to come to terms with her identity, and isn’t totally comfortable in her own skin.

Season three puts more of an emphasis on the bigotry and prejudice that Binty and her family had to overcome. We do get hints of this with the other Mijas, but its more of a background detail. This does add to season three having a more distinct tone compared to its predecessors. That said, I felt that it got laid on a bit thick at times, and occasionally things got a tad preachy. I would argue that season one worked in part because it took a somewhat understated approach when it tackled serious issues. I also have to ding one scene in the episode about Binty’s mom. She grew up in Alexandria, but moved to London to work in the egyptology department at the British Museum. One of the things that strikes her when she moves to London is that she see Muslim women wearing hijab outside of mosque and prayers. Uh, do what now? I find it hard to believe that she wouldn’t have seen that plenty of times in Egypt.

Honestly, though, those two points are really my only critiques of season three. It was a noticeable step up from season two. Season three didn’t quite reach the same heights as season one, but it got very close, and proved to be a worthy successor.

There’s also a spin-off miniseries called Mija Música. It is something of an unofficial fourth season of Mija. It is a notable departure from the main series in terms of style. It follows a young man named Gavilán. He lives in New York, but he is originally from Monterey, Mexico. He has found himself back in Monterey due to his grandfather’s Lolo’s funeral. Lolo was a musician who had a passion for Colombian vallenato music. Gavilán is determined to investigate his grandfather’s music career. Along the way, he’ll explore the history of vallenato, and discover some secrets about his grandfather.

Like I said, it's different, but that’s not a bad thing. I wasn’t familiar with vallenato music, but I had fun learning about it. The episodes are a bit shorter than in the main Mija seasons. Speaking of music, I also wanted to take a moment to discuss the use of music in the main Mija seasons. Each season uses music from its respective immigrant culture to help set the mood. It was one of those little touches I appreciated, and it helped give each season its own feeling. And that is most certainly true of Mija Música as well. You’ll be well acquainted with the many styles of vallenato by the time the miniseries is over.

We’ve had three seasons, and one miniseries, of Mija so far. I certainly hope that this is not the last we’ve heard from Mija. It tells the stories of families of immigrants. Those who leave the land of the birth to seek a better life, those who stay behind, and those with feet in both worlds. It is a celebration of community, culture, and the places we call home. It is absolutely fantastic, and I can’t recommend it enough. Give it a listen today.

Well, I think that should do it from me for now. I will see you guys next time.

The Audio File: Seen and Not Heard

Audio drama, and audio fiction in general, is the last place you’d expect to find people who are deaf or hard of hearing. Despite this, there are a surprising number of such individuals involved in the world of audio drama. And it isn’t just fans. In fact, the audio drama we’re taking a look at today was created by one such individual. We’re taking a look at Seen and Not Heard. 

Seen and Not Heard follows a young woman named Bet Kline. She has recently lost most of her hearing as a result of an unspecified illness. The series follows a few weeks in Bet’s life as she tries to navigate her now mostly soundless new life. She has to deal with her rather insensitive mother. She meets a nice young man named David, who might be more than he appears. More than anything, Bet has to decide what she wants out of her new life.

I first become aware of Seen and Not Heard when it got recommended to me on that “You Might Also Like” section of the Apple Podcast app. The first thing that stood out to me was the title card. You see a circle of hands using sign language. That, plus the title, clearly indicated that this would be something involving deafness. A non-fiction podcast about deafness would certainly be odd, but not necessarily out of the question. But this was recommended based on my recent listening. Surly, it couldn’t be an audio drama about deafness, could it? I tapped the cover art, and sure enough, that’s exactly what it was.

I admit that this show had a certain dancing bear element to it. It’s not everyday that you find an audio drama where the main character is deaf. Oh, but that’s not the only unusual feature about Seen and Not Heard. You see, it is also created by a deaf individual. Series creator Caroline Mincks, who uses they/them pronouns, is legally deaf. They describe themselves as being exactly halfway between fully hearing and fully deaf. So, they have some hearing, but it is less than optimal. They often get help from their friends to make sure that the audio from their podcasts is correct and up to snuff. And yes, that’s podcasts plural. Caroline Mincks has made several other podcasts besides just Seen and Not Heard. They have also worked on several other audio dramas, and have helped make transcripts for several shows. Speaking of which, transcripts are available on the Seen and Not Heard Twitter account.

And Caroline isn’t alone. As it turns out, there are a surprisingly high number of deaf and/or hard of hearing individuals who enjoy audio dramas. They come because the shows all seem interesting, and they want to take partake in them. Just the same as hearing people do. This is why it is important to include transcripts with your audio dramas. Without them, it is very difficult for deaf and hard of hearing individuals to enjoy audio dramas. Also, transcripts are very handy for people who write reviews of audio dramas.

Now, prior to listening to Seen and Not Heard, I’d had a less than stellar experience with depictions of deafness in audio dramas. The only other time I’d seen deafness in audio dramas was in The AM Archies; which is season six of The Bright Sessions. There’s a scene between a hearing character and a deaf character. The deaf character communicates using sign language, which is conveyed by a series of barely audible wind rushing noises. I actually had to rewind multiple times to just to figure out what the hell I was listening to. It didn’t help that Lauren Shippen bragged about how groundbreaking the scene was on Twitter. She came across less as someone who wanted to sincerely depict deafness, and more like she was cynically trying to virtue signal. It also didn’t help that the characters only appeared in that one scene, and had no impact on the plot.  

I went into Seen and Not Heard with an open mind, but I was fully prepared for it to be terrible. Much to my surprise, Seen and Not Heard proved to be quite well-written, and took great care to execute it premise in an entirely audio medium. There is strong feeling of sincerity and genuine care being put forward. This is clearly a very intimate subject for Caroline Mincks, and they wanted to do the topic of deafness proper justice in an audio medium. I alway give points to those who act with sincerity and genuine conviction.

We get a few scenes where we actually get to hear what things are like from Bet’s perspective. It sounds like she has her head underwater. I could kind of make out a couple words and phrases, but I was fairly lost during those scenes. Of course, that’s the point of those scenes. We’re suppose to sympathize and empathize with Bet’s struggles. Bet communicates verbally both in interactions with other characters and her internal monologue. Bet was not born deaf, so presumably she remembers the mechanics of talking. It is also mentioned that she can lip read, and can somewhat better understand people if she’s facing them. She does enroll in a sign language class. She’s the only actual deaf person in the class. Pretty much everyone else has family of significant others who are deaf or hard of hearing.

I should probably mention that, technically, Bet’s real name is Beth. Apparently, she had a slight speech impediment as a kid, and pronounced her name as Bet. So, the mispronunciation stuck later in life.

I must also give credit to Seen and Not Heard for another aspect. There are three mini-episodes that occur before the main series. They offer brief vignettes into Bet’s life. One of them involves Bet going to visit her rabbi for advice and guidance. Now, in the past I have made it no secret that I have an extreme disdain for ordained clergy, and other religious figures. So, it is a testament to Caroline Mincks’ skill as a writer that I found the rabbi to be an incredibly enjoyable character. One of my favorite lines from her was towards the end of the mini-episode. She says, basically, “You don’t have to love your lot in life. Be angry, be pissed off, very Jewish thing to do. But for as long as you can, however you can, leave goodness in your wake in spite of how the world treats you. And if you can’t do any good, just don’t do any harm.”

Bet’s mother is someone who really ought to heed that advice. There are very few audio drama characters who have made me feel genuinely angry. Mrs. Kline, however, was one such character. It is very clear that she and Bet have been having issues for quite a while. She frequently chides Bet for not focusing more during family dinners and other family gatherings. She ignores how Bet genuinely is trying her best, but still has understandable struggles with keeping up. It doesn’t help that the rest of Bet’s family is fairly inconsiderate of her needs. Mrs. Kline also considers Bet’s sign language classes to be a waste of time and money. In fact, Mrs. Kline boarders on being flat out abusive at times.

I’m reminded of a PBS documentary I once watched about the history of deaf people in America. It mentioned how education deaf children used put a lot of emphasis on lip reading and vocalization. The educators claimed this was for the benefit of deaf children, but it was really because doing that made things easier for hearing people. It used to be like that for autistic people too. In the past, emphasis was on getting autistic children to act more like neurotypical people. However, in recent years the emphasis has shifted to accommodating the needs of autistic individuals. You’re probably wonder why I brought this up, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

Bet works as a food photographer. She has a true passion for all things culinary. In fact, she wanted to be a chef, but losing her hearing put the kibosh on that dream. Granted, there are some restaurants where the kitchen staff are all deaf, but Bet has made peace with giving up that dream. In Bet’s defense, professional kitchens can be fairly dangerous; with lots of things that can seriously injure you if you aren’t careful. Still, I wonder how Bet would be faring if she’s dreaming of doing something involving sound. Like, say she wanted to becoming a musician, or a 911 dispatcher.

I do wonder how much of Seen and Not Heard is autobiographical. It didn’t escape my notice that Bet and Caroline Mincks share a number of similarities. They are both Jews from northern Virginia. Many of the foods that Bet cooks and eats are also ones I’ve seen Caroline mentioning cooking on Twitter. They also seem to be fairly similar in terms of personality. There’s also the obvious similarity that they are both deaf to the same degree.

There’s a bonus episode where Caroline Mincks gives advice on how do write deaf characters, as well as a bit about what it is like to be a deaf audio drama creator. They said it is considered rude to ask deaf people how they became deaf. Be that as it may, given all of the other similarities between Bet and Caroline, I can’t help but wonder. I also wonder how much of the plot draws from Caroline’s own life. There are some differences, like how Caroline identifies as non-binary, while Bet identifies as female. However, I also don’t know how Caroline identified when Seen and Not Heard was made.

I should also mention that, in addition to being the series creator, Caroline also provides the voice for Bet. Caroline gives a very earnest and heartfelt performance. It was quite clear, as with everything else, that this was a very personal subject for Caroline. Caroline also assembled a team of very talented voice actors to help bring the other characters to life.

As an aside, this is probably one of the scariest audio dramas I’ve encountered in quite some time. I was diagnosed with a learning disability, which included elements of dyslexia and dysgraphia. I learned from getting tested for learning disabilities that I’m very audio oriented. I often do best by listening. Audiobooks have been a major lifesaver for me. So, the idea that I could loose my hearing as a result of an illness was quite terrifying on an existential level. And yeah, Seen and Not Heard make a point that being deaf isn’t the end of the world. Still, I’m not sure how well I’d fare in such a scenario.

Towards the end of the series, Bet goes to an art show. Specifically, it is the art of the non-binary artist name Kit, who is also deaf and autistic. I was excited when I heard this because I am also autistic. I don’t often bring this fact up. I don’t actively hide that side of myself, but I don’t necessarily draw attention to it. I want people to think of me, for example, as Sam McDonald the Audio Drama Critic. I don’t want people to think of me as just Sam McDonald the Autistic Audio Drama Critic. Having autism is certainly a very important aspect of who I am, but it is not the only aspect of who I am.

In fact, I think this might be the first time I’ve actually encountered an autistic character in audio drama. I used to think that I was the only autistic person involved in the world of audio drama. I know of a grand total of one other autistic person in audio drama. That doesn’t mean that others aren’t out there; just that I haven’t found them yet.

Kit provides insight into what it is like to be deaf. Up until this point, Seen and Not Heard had done a good job of portraying deafness without being patronizing or dipping into sentimentality. Unfortunately, it found Kit’s scene to be far too saccharine for my liking. I also felt that Kit inadvertently played into the magical disabled person trope. A close cousin to the magical negro, and alternatively known as inspiration ally disadvantaged, a magical disabled person provides folksy wisdom and down to earth advice. They almost alway provide this advice to an able-bodied person, and their only function within the story is to lift the spirits of the able-bodied protagonist. Now true, Bet is also deaf, but she was born hearing. However, Kit’s only function within the story is to be Bet’s deaf senpai, and provide words of inspiration.

I mean, I do have to give Caroline credit for actually including an autistic person. It also isn’t their fault that autistic characters are still so rare in audio drama. Still, I was hoping that Kit would have been less of a stereotype and more fleshed out. I suppose that this is an example of how even well-intentioned individuals can still wind up playing into negative tropes.

Seen and Not Heard did manage to redeem itself with how things ended. Bet doesn’t come to a big revelation about life, the universe, and everything. She doesn’t even come to terms with being deaf. She still has mountains to clime and challenges to overcome. In fact, she might never truly be at peace with loosing her hearing. But right here, right now, she feels just okay. And is okay to just be okay. Put another way, it is perfectly good to be good, and not perfect. In other words, perfect is the enemy of good.

This is a lesson that I myself have had to learn. In fact, it’s one I still need to do a better job learning. Depression and anxiety are often comorbid with autism, and that’s certainly the case with me. Misery loves company, as the saying goes. I’ve dealt with feelings of inadequacy my entire life. Sometime I wonder if I’m actually making a difference with these reviews, or if anyone actually cares what I have to say. I try my best give myself praise and reassurance for any improvements, no matter how small, I’ve made in my own life. The journey of 1000 miles begins with but a single step. Each step you take is worth celebrating.

Maybe Bet doesn’t have it all figured out, but she feels okay, at least for the moment. And that is certainly something worth celebrating. This is a very important message, and I’m glad that Seen and Not Heard resolved Bet’s character arc this way.

Caroline Mincks has hinted that we might be getting a season two of Seen and Not Heard. No details about the plot, only that it will be gayer. Hmm, if I had to speculate, I would guess that Bet will come out as non-binary. Bet will also develop an interest in audio drama podcast, and will perhaps make one. And perhaps said podcast is reviewed by an audio drama critic from Shreveport, Louisiana? 

In other exciting developments, Seen and Not Heard, along with all of the other shows Caroline Mincks had made, was picked up by Realm Media. Realm has been scooping up a lot of audio dramas recently. They also recently acquired all the shows from Observer Pictures, Fool & Scholar, and Curious Matter. In other Caroline Mincks productions, I recommend Silly Old Bear. It is an utterly adorable adaption of the original Winnie-the-Pooh stories by A.A. Milne. 

But whatever the future holds, I do know that I greatly enjoyed Seen and Not Heard. I took a gamble on this one, and it paid-off. It made the bold choice to depict the experience of deafness in an purely audio medium. It succeeded with flying colors. Give it a listen if you haven’t already.

Well, I think that should do it from me for now. I will see you guys next time.

The Audio File: Moonface

I love speculative fiction audio dramas, but I also enjoy more down to Earth audio dramas. I'm always very happy when I can find one of those podcasts. Especially if they live up to my standards. That brings us to the audio drama we'll be reviewing today. We're taking a look at the podcast Moonface. 

Moonface follows a young gay Korean-American man named Paul who lives in Downey, a suburb of Los Angles. He's a wayward twenty-something desperately trying to make his way in the world. More importantly, he's trying to come out to his mother. This is complicated by the fact that she doesn't really speak English, but Paul doesn't really speak Korean. The series follows Paul as he tries to find both his place in the world and a way to connect with his mother.

I first became aware of this podcast when I was browsing on the r/audiodrama subreddit. There was a thread about great single season podcasts. I shared my favorites, such as Lights Out and The Hermes & Hekate Road Show, but I also went to see what everybody else was recommending. One person recommended an audio drama called Moonface. I checked it out, and saw that it wasn't too long, and the premise sounded interesting. I'm more willing to take a gamble on shorter shows, since if I don't like them, it will be over soon. Of course, if I wind-up loving them, which is fairly often, I always wish they'd go on for longer. Thankfully, I can safely say that Moonface falls in the latter category. Though I would say it is about as long as it needs to be.

It occurs to me that I'm reviewing this podcast in the middle of Pride Month. Those of you who have been following this blog for a while will know that there is no set schedule, and as such I did not plan this. It is merely a happy coincidence. If I get things posted in a timely manner, it is something of a small miracle.

Moonface is created by James Kim. Like Paul, he is a young gay Korean-American man who lives in Los Angles. He also struggled to connect with his parents due to not being able to speak Korean. Also, like Paul, he has worked in radio and podcasting. I suspected that there were some autobiographical elements to Moonface, and based on what James has said in interview, it appears my hunch were correct.

Moonface very much draws from the Asian-American and LGBT experience. However, you do not have to be Asian-American or LGBT to enjoy this podcast. I have PDD, Pervasive Developmental Disorder. It is an autism spectrum disorder that has aspects of Asperger's, Autism, Dyslexia, Dysgraphia, Dyscalculia and because misery loves company, Anxiety and Depression. It not the same as being visually a minority, but I often find parallels to my own experience in the stories of minorities. I also related to Paul's struggles to find his place in a post-college world. And even disregarding all of that, Moonface is a well-written and engaging podcast.

I'd like to take a minute to talk about the sound editing and sound design for Moonface. There are several instances of long stretches of silence, with the only noise being ambient background noise. It helps to paint the scenes and indicate the emotions of the characters. In-universe, one of Paul's ideas for a podcast is one composed of nothing but ambient noises.

Of course, another big aspect of Moonface is the focus on language and communication. Obviously, there are no subtitles in podcasts, so we hear what Paul hears. When his mother speaks untranslated Korean, and he can't understand it, that's what we hear. It serves to underscore the language barrier between them. Furthermore, we get flashbacks to Paul's childhood. We see that he speaks Korean fluently when he is a little boy, but gradually loses the language as he gets older. By the present day, he can only speak a handful of Korean words, and not very well at that. This does reflect not only James Kim's experience, but also that of Korean-Americans, and children of immigrants in general.

Usually, immigrants will speak their native langue, with enough English to get by day-to-day. Their children will usually be bilingual, but the grandchildren of the immigrants are usually the ones who loose the language and speak exclusively English. Korean-American are different, as with them, it is usually the children of immigrants who lose the language. Why exactly this happen is unknown, particularly given that there are still large amounts of Koreans immigrating to America, which usually preserves the language for a bit.

James Kim did a report about this phenomenon when he worked for a Southern Californian NPR affiliate. Based on his own admission, and the testimony of his parents, he lost it due to apathy towards Korean culture. For Paul, that appeared to be a factor as well, but also his desire to fit-in with his non-Korean classmates. One of the flashbacks sees Paul's elementary school class going on a field trip to his house to learn about traditional Korean homes. He becomes embarrassed by how strange his classmates find his home, and that seems to be the point he turns his back on Korean culture.

You do learn several tidbits about Korean culture during the course of the podcast. For example, when Paul's mom catches him in bed with his boyfriend Ryan, Paul isn't too panicked. In traditional Korean culture, it isn't uncommon for two men to share a bed. There's also a point where Paul and a fellow Korean-American classmate at his podcasting class compare experiences. They talk about going to Korean megachurches in their youth, and getting looked down on by the rich Korean kids. Christianity is fairly common among Koreans. About thirty percent of South Korea identifies as Christian. I've had several Korean Christians attempt to proselytize me over the years. I've also had many Black Jehovah's Witnesses, and Black Christians generally, do the same. The number White proselytizers tended to be fairly low, but I suppose that might be a quirk of where I live.

As a side note, I just wanted to say that I utterly adored Paul's two best friends, Shayla and Danny. They've been Paul's best friends since he was in the third-grade, and are also struggling to figure out what to do with their lives. Shayla dreams of being a fashion designer, but keeps getting passed over for promotions, and is stuck as an assistant. Danny wants to be an artist, but his self-doubt causes him to be stuck working in a retail store. Shayla is Black, and Danny is Mexican-American and gay, and they often compare and contrast their experience with Paul. They're also the ones who encourage Paul to get out of his rut, and add levity to the show.

Obviously, being gay, and trying to come out to his mom, is an important aspect of Paul's character. However, it is not the be-all end-all of who he is. He has his desire to be a podcaster, as well as his general search for a purpose to his life. Paul thinks that coming out to his mom will be this big turning point, but what he really wants is to figure out what he wants to do with his life.

Moonface is a great audio drama podcast, and every audio drama needs a great team of voice actors. James Kim certainly went the extra mile to get that team for Moonface. Paul is voiced by Joel Kim Booster. I'm not previously familiar with him, but he did an excellent job. James really wanted Joel for the part, so I'm glad it all worked out. Paul's mother was played by Esther Moon Wu. Again, not previously familiar, but she also did a good job, especially given the limits of the role. The other voice actors are also excellent. They're all professional actors who have appeared in shows such as Dear White People, The Affair, and Where the Bears Are. The endings for each episode feature music from a different South Korean indie band. It all sounds awesome, and made me want to look-up the bands.

Now we've at the part of the review where we have to go into spoilers. So turn back now if you don't want any of that.

This is your last chance, you sure you want to go forward?

If you're still here, and want to continue to the spoilers, then let's begin.

So, Paul finally confesses to his mom about his sexuality...and she doesn't care, because she already knows. However, she is angry that he hasn't bothered to learn Korean, especially since they're going on a trip to visit family in Seoul soon. But more than just that, she's angry that he isn't making an effort to connect with her, especially because she's been trying to improve her English specifically for this purpose.

Admittedly, I kind of suspected something like this was going to happen. All the same, it was a very effective reveal. But we aren't done yet. I did chuckle a little when Paul's mother says that she's known he was gay for years because he watches Disney movies and doesn't like sports. Stereotypical reasoning, but it is nice that she didn't judge him for that.

Paul's mother got a friend to help her write a heartfelt letter to Paul. She talks about her life in South Korea, meeting Paul's father, and moving to America. Most of all, she talks about how much she wants to connect with Paul and be part of his life. From the letter we learn that Paul's father has died, and fairly recently, from the sounds of it. Admittedly, I had been wondering about that, since Paul's dad appears in the flashbacks, but not the present day. He was also from South Korea, but could speak English much more fluently than Paul's mother, so finding a job in America was much easier for him. His death is also a big part of why Paul's mother wants to connect with him, because they have to be there for each other during these trying times.

The letter Paul's mother wrote reminded me of several other stories I've read of Asian-American parents trying to connect with their kids. In particular, I was reminded of "The Paper Menagerie" by Ken Liu. In fact, Ken has said that his inspiration for that story was becoming a new father, and trying to pass on his Chinese culture to his daughters. That, and imagining the generation gap that might ensue due to them being the children of an immigrant. I guess some experiences are universal no matter if you're the child of immigrants from South Korea, China, or anywhere else.

There's some more stuff that happens, but I've said enough. I gotta leave you guys with something to discover for yourselves. I kind of wish Moonface had lasted just a bit longer, because I love it so much. However, all things considered, I think it is exactly as long as it needs to be.

Well, there you have it. Moonface is great podcast about a young gay Korean-American man try to find his way in the world and bridge a cultural divide. I can't recommend it enough.

I think that's enough from me for now. I will see you guys next time.

The Audio File: A Scottish Podcast

Some podcasts are just so big, and come up in conversation so much, I just can't ignore them. Eventually, I have check them out just to see what the fuss is about. Sometimes they turn out to be overrated, but other times they turn out to indeed be worthy of the praise. That brings us to the podcast we'll be reviewing today. We're taking a look at A Scottish Podcast. 

A Scottish Podcast follows two Scottish dudes named Lee and Douglas. Lee used to be a radio DJ, but he recently lost job. In his quest to not starve, Lee has stumbled across, what he thinks, will be a surefire path to success: starting a paranormal investigation podcast. Lee soon drags Douglas along for the ride, and the two set out to make the best paranormal investigation horror podcast set in Scotland. 

Well, I must admit, I'm glad I finally gave this podcast a listen. I wouldn't so much call A Scottish Podcast a horror podcast. I'd say that it's more of a comedy/slice-of-life podcast that happens to include horror elements. The podcast primarily focuses on Lee and Douglas' day-to-day lives, and the various mundane aspects of running a podcast. Still, there's plenty of laughs to be had, and shout-out to other podcasts. Lee models the podcast, known as The Terror Files, as essentially a Scottish version of The Black Tapes. Haven't listened to that one, but from what I understand, it's kind of like the X-Files. Though, The Black Tapes is a fiction podcast, whereas The Terror Files would, in-universe, be a non-fiction investigation podcast. In other shout-out, at one-point Lee and Douglas discuss an episode of Campfire Radio Theater that is set in Scotland. It's a meta joke, because Lee and Douglas' voice actors, Rob Cudmore and Matthew McLean, played the lead roles in that episode. Two other podcasts Lee hopes The Terror Files will be able to rival is The Message and Limetown. Like I said, plenty of shout-outs and love to go round. 

Now let's talk characters. A Scottish Podcast is very much a character-driven show. There are plot threads that are set up at the start of the season, but it really is the characters, and the focus on their lives, that carries the show. Granted, there are hints of horror throughout the seasons. Things also tend to come to a head during the finale episodes of each season, which take a more serious tone, at least at the start.  

Anyway, back to characters. Lee has a freewheeling devil-may-care personality. He's the type to jump in first and hammer out the details as he goes along. That pretty much describes how he created The Terror Files. By contrast, Douglas is more sensible and cautious. Well, he did agree to Lee's crazy idea, but otherwise he's pretty sensible. He's also got a bit of a chip on his shoulder due to the time he shit in his pants on live television. 

Lee and Douglas' primary financial backer is a gangster named Bruce. He's the top gangster in Scotland, and widely considered to be the most dangerous man in Britain. He's also a huge fan of horror investigation podcasts, and The Terror Files is right up his alley. Douglas was a bit hesitant about being sponsored by a violent criminal. Lee meanwhile, pretty much said "where do I sign?" immediately. Though, considering their primary sponsor prior to that had been a hemorrhoid cream company, perhaps it is understandable why Lee said yes so quickly. A good bit of humor comes from how Brice his always cordial and polite, even when he's doing gangster stuff. For example, one time he politely calls to ask how the podcast is going, while also murdering a man in a cement mixer. He's also speaking with an English accent, which I found a bit odd. Is that common with Scottish gangsters? I once took a school trip to London (and Paris and Venice) and encountered a Scottish drug dealer selling marijuana. I had to do my best to defuse a tense situation after one of my stupid classmates pissed him off, but I digress. Bruce is voiced Karim Kronfli. He has dyslexia, but that hasn’t stopped him from perusing a successful career as a voice actor. 

In other notable characters we have Helen, the perpetual drunk who practically lives at the local bar. I'm not sure how I feel about her. She was amusing at first, but then she got kind of annoying. Still, the prequel episode where she fills in for Lee as Santa at a charity even for sick kids was kind of fun. Helen, being Helen, rented some vans and took the kids to the pub, and bought them all jäger bombs. That was probably one of the best Christmases those sick kids ever had. It was also amusing when Lee think he's died and gone to Hell, which appears to him as the local pub. When questioned, Helen basically says, "it's Hell, everyone is Scottish." She is voiced by Sarah Golding, who is to the audio drama community what John Ratzenberger is to Pixar movies. She’s a true gem of the community, and has appeared in countless audio dramas in various roles. 

In season two, Lee and Douglas are joined on their adventures by an American woman named Gina. She's a big fan of The Terror Files, and I though she provided a good foil to Lee and Douglas. There are plenty more characters, but those are the ones who really stand out. So then, let us move on to other subjects. 

Season three is perhaps the most bonkers to date, but in a good way. Lee disappears for a while. Then, Douglas finds him again. Specifically, Lee is on a spaceship, and he’s taking Douglas to the planet Yuggoth. They’re off to explore the mysterious ruins of Yuggoth. We went from a slice of life with horror elements, to what I can best describe as We Fix Space Junk, but with two Scottish dudes. Hmm, would that be Wee Fix Space Shite, then? Well, didn’t see that coming, but I’m all here for it. In all of its glorious insanity. 

I must also take a moment and talk about the fantastic voice acting this podcast has. I also must be very careful about how I chose my words. The team behind A Scottish Podcast are usually good sports about negative reviews. In fact, they've turned several of their negative reviews into drink coasters that you can purchase. All the same, I'd prefer if my reviews didn't wind up on a drink coaster for the wrong reasons. I'd also just like to say the official series title card is awesome. Even more than good word-of-mouth, it is what really convinced me I needed to give A Scottish Podcast a try. 

Okay, so how do I put this delicately? Fine, I'll just be brutally honest. I've always found Scottish people to be kind of annoying. They always sound like seals barking, which I, half-jokingly, suppose explains where the legend of the selkie comes from. However, I found the cast to all be rather pleasant to listen to. They're all very talented, and clearly hard working and devoted to their craft. Also, if this does wind up on a coaster, I demand a royalties check. Just putting that out there now. 

In addition to the main show, A Scottish Podcast has had many fun special. They did a Burns Night Special, where the characters all read poetry, but it was all original works, rather than the poems of Robert Burns. They also did a special where the characters all read poems written by HP Lovecraft. This was framed as a poetry contest that Bruce was running to sponsor a butcher shop he owns. They're famous for their meat pies...if you know what I mean. Naturally, he was declared the winner, because everyone was too scared of what would happen if he didn't win. 

Lovecraft was clearly a pretty big influence on the creators. Several of the strange things Lee and Douglas investigate have strong Lovecraftian undertones to them. For example, in season two they investigate a professor from Miskatonic University who conducted experiments for the British government during World War II. Also, apparently Miskatonic University is real in the world of A Scottish Podcast; albeit as a mundane university that is a bit annoyed that Lovecraft featured them in his works. Season one also featured Lovecraftian horrors lurking beneath Edinburgh, but also an undead cannibal warrior from the 10th century. A Scottish Podcast even did it's own adaption of The Shadow Over Innsmouth. The set-up is that Douglas is traveling to England on holiday, and stays at the seaside town of Innsmouth. Ah, so that's how Lovecraft slipped that one under the radar. Everyone thought the reals Innsmouth was in New England, like the story, but it was actually in Old England all along. Thought, to be clear there is no Innsmouth on either side of the Atlantic in real life. 

There was also an episode where A Scottish Podcast crossed over with several other horror podcast audio dramas. The episode featured Lee and Douglas attending a podcasting convention, and meet with the creators and/or characters of the other podcasts. However, they were all podcast I don't listen too, so I didn't quite have the intended effect on me. Still, for fans of those podcasts, I'm sure they were over the Moon. I know I got excited when A Scottish Podcast merely mentioned Campfire Radio Theater, one of my favorite podcasts. 

So there you have it. A Scottish Podcast is a comedy/slice-of-life podcast about two Scottish dudes trying to create their own horror investigation podcast. It's a name you often hear in the world of audio drama podcast, and I'm glad I finally gave it a listen. Give it a listen yourself, you'll be glad that you did. 

Well, I think that should be enough from me for now. I will see you guys next time. 

Book Review: Looking For Alaska by John Green

Well I'm back again for another book review.  This time we're going to step away from the speculative and the fantastic and focus more on slice of life.  Specifically, we're going to be reviewing Looking for Alaska by John Green.  The book follows Miles Halter, an awkward sixteen from Orlando, Florida about to set out for his first year of boarding schooling in Birmingham, Alabama.  Miles likes to collect the last words of famous people, and he goes to seek the great perhaps.  Along the way he is befriended by a quirky group of nerds, and he soon finds himself infatuated by the lovely Alaska, and yes, that is seriously her name.  Alaska lights up his word (she lights up a couple of his other things too) and soon Miles and the gang are in for an adventure full of drinking, smoking, sex and much more.  Oh, but all is not well, as you may notice by the count down at the start of each chapter.  

At the present moment speculative fiction dominates the YA market, especially dystopia and supernatural romance.  What makes John Green so unique is that he writes very down-to-earth slice of life books, and he is one of the most successful and beloved modern YA authors.  I didn't listen to this book until my freshman year of college, and I think that was to this book's benefit.  Boarding school is some much like college that, having lived the college life, I was able to relate to it pretty well.  Not only that, but Miles' group of friends had striking parallels to the friends that I made during my freshman year of college, though maybe that's because we have similar personalities and thus attract the same sorts of people.  

I loved the descriptions throughout this book, whether it be of the gang's wacky hijinks or just them sitting around, eating fried burritos and discussing philosophy.  If you're looking to get into John Green's books I'd recommend this as a pretty good starting point.  Besides Miles and Alaska I'd have to say that my favorite character would be The Colonel, whose real name is Chip, but he doesn't like to be called that.  He's their short and stocky friend who always comes up with the plans for their adventures, and he's obsessed with geography, you gotta love that.  Then again, I won first place in regional and state Literary Rally in geography, so maybe I'm biased.  The way the narration and dialogue are written are also quite excellent.  

Speaking of narration, the audiobook version, narrated by Jeff Woodman, is perfectly narrated.  There's a bit of guitar music during the beginning and end of the audiobook.  It was really nice and it fit the book quite well.  On a slightly less realities note, I know I mentioned sex and drinking and all that, but this book isn't too explicit with that stuff, all things considered.  

Having said all of these nice things, there were still a few issues, but this was John Green's first book after all.  John has stated that he intended this book to be a deconstruction of the Manic Pinkie Dream Girl trope, but it come across more as a novel about dealing with the death of a friend and loved one.  Okay, little spoilery, but at least I never told you who dies.  Anyway, to his credit John has acknowledged this and that was part of the reason he went on to write Paper Towns.  The other issues is that by the end Miles is practically screaming the book's message at the top of his lungs to the reader; with all the subtly of an eighteen wheeler at top speed.  Imagine if The Stage Manager from Our Town were shouting his final monologue into a megaphone at the top of his voice, and it's kind of like this.  Again, this was John's first book and he got better at subtly delivering his books' morals and messages as time went on.  

Despite a few rough patches towards the end this is still a great book, and one that I happily recommend.  If you're looking to see what all the buzz about John Green is about this is a great starting point.  Now that I've reviewed his first book, I think I might review the other John Green books as well.  I'll probably do that in the order I read them, so Will Grayson, Will Grayson is up next.  

In that case, I will see all of you next time.