Into the Badlands - Season 1
“A program fares only as well as its creators are diverse. Into the Badlands falls cleanly into this convention.”
Title: Into the Badlands
Episodes Reviewed: Season 1
Creators: Alfred Gough 👨🏼🇺🇸 and Miles Millar 👨🏼🇬🇧
Writers: Paco Cabezas 👨🏽🇪🇸, David Dobkin 👨🏼🇺🇸, Guy Ferland 👨🏼🇺🇸, etc.
Executive Producers: Nick Copus 👨🏼🇬🇧, Henry Bronchtein 👨🏼🇺🇸, Stephen Fung 👨🏻🇭🇰, Daniel Wu 👨🏻🇺🇸, etc.
Reviewed by Li 👩🏻🇺🇸
Technical: 3/5
Into the Badlands is a pulpy, martial arts drama that remixes steampunk Victorian-futurism with authentic Hong Kong fight choreography, taped together with a plot to find the Promised Land and set against a dystopian backdrop à la Mad Max.
Yes, it’s as jumbled and borrowed as it sounds. But if you’re a sucker for comic book levels of gruesome action like I am, with an appreciation for camp and the ability to turn a blind eye to stilted acting and boring expository between superb fight sequences, then chances are you’ll get into this short, 6-episode season with as much relish as I did.
Gender: 3.5/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? YES
This series knows its target demographic—teenage fanboys—and panders to them without batting an eyelash. Unfortunately, this does not translate into any semblance of modern feminism. Instead, the all-male creators clumsily write “strong women” by strapping them into 4” stiletto heels and having an all-female army slay men with aplomb. To break it down:
GOOD: Numbers - several women represented, nearly reaching parity with male characters
GOOD: Variation - a wide array of characterizations for women, if none particularly complex
GOOD: Sisterhood - I loved the instances where women team up and scheme, though it’s balanced with other ladies being manipulative and backstabbing. Still, Into the Badlands is all about power plays and I appreciate that women have agency in that regard
BAD: Women as Sex Symbols - clichéd to a fault, women use sex as power and are clad in thigh-high boots, skin-tight leather, etc.
BAD: Victimization - female characters experience brutality and sexual abuse at the hands of men. For once, I’d like to watch some badass women who haven’t been abused as part of their backstory. It simply perpetuates the victimization of women
Overall, the main weaknesses in this category can be attributed to simplistic writing which affects men and women alike. For example, Sunny (Daniel Wu) is equally one-dimensional and riddled with tropes: the stoic anti-hero killer with a heart of gold who’s just trying to get out of a bad situation. Haven’t we seen this all before?
Race: 4.5/5
The diversity is up front and in your face, and I couldn’t appreciate it more. There’s a lot of nuance to cover here though, so read on.
Obviously, Sunny jumps to mind as an East Asian man in a leading role, which is unusual enough that it would score well on that alone. Moreover, the other protagonists are largely non-White—Sunny’s protégé M.K. is played by Aramis Knight, who is mixed-race German and South Asian. Sunny’s girlfriend Veil is played by Madeleine Mantock, who is mixed-race Latino, Black, and British.
It’s true that White actors still comprise the majority of background and supporting characters, but you’ll easily find Black and Asian extras in every crowd shot. Characters with political power are diverse as well—warlords and their Regents (second-in-command) consist of 1 White man, 1 Asian man, 1 Black man, and 3 White women.
This does, however, lead me to point out that ethnic diversity evaporates among female characters. Veil is the only woman of color with any lines, and she’s light-skinned. Meanwhile, the Widow’s army is almost all White, a huge contrast to the diverse soldiers in Baron Quinn’s army.
Also not great: cultural appropriation among the women. I largely gave this a pass due to East Asian representation among executive producers (and in front of the camera), plus the original story is based on a Chinese folktale so we could see this as an homage, rather than erasure. Still, the optics are awkward. The Widow’s army of White women wear Japanese kimonos and her daughter Tilda (Ally Ioannides) sports a black-haired bob that has been appropriated in the past by other White women playing martial artists (such as Scarlett Johansson in Ghost in the Shell or Chloë Grace Moretz in Kick-Ass). And a cringeworthy moment arrives when the beautiful, blonde Jade (Sarah Bolger) dons a traditional Chinese qipao as she crouches in an opium field, extracting poppy milk from a plant.
Last note: where the Latinos at? Like so many—too many—TV shows and movies, Latin American men and women are ignored entirely. It’s mind-boggling as they make up almost 1 in 5 U.S. residents, yet Latino actors and characters get overlooked, time and time again.
Disability: 4.5/5
A meaningful character uses a wheelchair. Waldo (played by nondisabled actor Stephen Lang) is a grizzled, sarcastic mentor to Sunny and his fighting chops are proven in the first scene we’re introduced to him. Refreshingly, Waldo is not just a one-dimensional character whose disability gives him superpowers (I’m eyeing you, Chirrut of Rogue One). Instead, he’s one of the more complex characters we see as we’re not totally sure where Waldo’s allegiance lies, but we know that he’s an ethical man who cares about Sunny.
We also see cursory nods to amputees. In one of the show’s earliest scenes, Veil creates prosthetics for injured soldiers. It isn’t much, but it at least acknowledges a world where physical disabilities exist and are normalized.
Mediaversity Grade: B 3.88/5
Into the Badlands is a wonderful show for a niche audience. Since I fall into this category of a nerd who loves a good martial arts beat-em-up, I happily tore through this short season.
As for its inclusiveness, a recurring theme is that a show only fares as well as its creators are diverse. Into the Badlands falls cleanly into this convention. The all-male creators come from a strong mix of ethnic and national backgrounds—Asian, British, and Spanish among some of the key players—so it follows naturally that we see racial representation. Meanwhile, the absence of women behind the camera translates into flat, clichéd characterizations on screen. Ultimately, Into the Badlands scores well overall on diversity, there’s still a lot of room for improvement.