The Umbrella Academy
Based on; The Umbrella Academy
by: Gerard Way and Gabriel Bá
Developed by: Steve Blackman, Jeremy Slater
Starring: Ellen Page, Tom Hopper, Emmy Raver-Lampman, David Castañeda, Robert Sheehan, Aidan Gallagher, Mary J. Blige, Cameron Britton, Colm Feore, Adam Godley, John Magaro
About five minutes in, I thought, oh, this is stupid, and nearly turned the show off. The problem: I had been warned to expect a serious drama, and instead was watching an utterly inane scene of a giant who looked like he weighed 450 pounds sitting in a space suit on a lawn chair next to a trailer. He’s in a space suit because he is on the Moon. He picks himself up, grabs a full black plastic bag, saunters over to a standard dumpster, tosses the bag in, and meanders back to his chair, obviously bored.
The whole thing was as silly as a screen door on a space ship…
…which was part of an illustration my wife made for a story I wrote in which relativistic travel had a problem; the time dilation factor worked going one way, but not the other. Totally unscientific, but I liked the notion because it was the sort of sheer fuckery the universe likes to toss at us.
The penny dropped.
“Ah. This is the thing the humans call ‘humor.’ Yes, I see.” The chimney for my space ship’s wood stove was up to FEMA standards. I didn’t check to see if the lunar trailer had such or not.
The Umbrella Academy has a lot of goofy humor in it, some in-your-face like the opening sequence, others wonderfully understated. There’s a talking monkey, for example. His name is Pogo. More on him in a bit.
We leave Earthshine Klem on the Moon and go to Earth, where it is 1987. Eighty-some women suddenly give birth. How suddenly? Well, none of them were pregnant. We see a girl, trying out for the Soviet swim team, flirting with a boy. She jumps in the pool, graceful and slim and moments later is in distress because she is giving birth. Both she and the baby are fine, but they are, not unexpectedly, surrounded by a lot of puzzled expressions. Not least of which was the boy, who thought he had just met a nice virgin.
A reclusive billionaire named Sir Reginald Hargreeves (Colm Feore) decided to start collecting these babies, and wound up with seven of them. As always happens when reclusive billionaires collect physically inexplicable babies, these ones had superpowers. Well, six of them did. The seventh, Vanya Hargreeves (#7), played by Ellen Page, seems to only have Page’s ability to not age since playing a pregnant high school girl 12 years earlier. She can play the violin, though, so she’s not a complete seventh wheel.
The other six, in numerical order: #1) Luther (Hopper), the gorilla on the Moon. He had exceptional strength, and Reggie shot him up with a super-steroid when he was gravely injured in order to save his live, which went on to be that of the biggest fuzzy on the Moon. #2) Diego (Casteñeda) is good at throwing knives; not just at things, but around corners, several corners if needed, and then at things. #3) Allison, a movie star who can create new realities by saying the words, “I heard a rumor.” Surprised she isn’t doing Sarah Sanders job. #4) Klaus (Sheehan), who steals the show as a druggie who doesn’t like his power, that of being able to see and hear dead people. #5) is The Boy (Gallagher), who can time travel and learns the Earth is going to end in eight days. #6 is Ben (Min), who is dead, a circumstance that pretty much limits his social circle to Klaus, who is not happy to see him.
I mentioned a talking monkey. Pogo (Godley). OK, he’s an ape, not a monkey, and more specifically either a chimpanzee or a bonobo. (Call me racist, but I can’t tell the two apart). He’s patrician, erudite and wise, an affectation that is very nearly a trope these days. (Subverted by Charles Dart, of course). But where most are played up as comic figures (much as dwarves were 50 years ago), this one is played straight, and Pogo is an imposing and patrician figure. The character is done so well you find yourself accepting him as an actual talking chimpanzee.
The family is pretty dysfunctional, especially since daddy is an utter prick who didn’t even bother to name the kids, but gave them numbers aligned with their seeming importance. Mommy is a robot who, while attentive and sweet, was a bit on the inhuman side. (Human mothers had been tried, but got used up by one of the kids struggling to control a superpower.)
So yeah. It’s goofy, and very offbeat in a charming sort of way. It’s not like the MCU supergroups, who engage in endless whines and squabbles over who daddy liked best and eventually you just wish Volton the Avenger would show up and just wipe them out, or at least have Superman visit and kick their collective asses.
This group has lots of issues, and yes, they do whine and squabble, but it’s done in a genuine and very human sort of way. It rings true. And there is an underlying warmth, and a deep desire to be a human group.
The villains are goofy and affecting and genuine, too. Even the incidental characters are amazing. The character writing is an utter gem.
Finally: yes, this is a serious drama. End of the world, eight days. They have to get their shit together and figure out who causes it and how to stop them. It doesn’t help that with a day remaining, they learn that in a time loop, they all tried and failed once before. Daddy is dead, Mommy is baking cookies, and Pogo turns out to be not quite the model of probity they had expected.
Worse, baddies are after them to stop them from destroying the world. Which kinda defines baddies, doesn’t it? But not to worry: these are actually kinda likeable baddies.
It shouldn’t work. With the disparate elements and tones, it should be an utter disaster.
But it isn’t. The writing is eye-wateringly beautiful, the acting amazing (especially Pogo!) and despite all the loony shit, it maintains credibility and engages the viewer right up to the thunderous finale.
I’m not a fan of group superhero movies, but I love this one, and recommend it to anyone who likes the genre or not.
Now on Netflix.