September 3, 2018

Let’s discuss All Might.


I want to start this off by saying, yes, I like My Hero Academia.  I like it a lot.

I’m not just saying that because it’s popular, or because other people like it.  This anime (and the manga by extension) is legit.  Scarily so.  It’s not hard to see the machinery behind it, and its attempts at emotional torque -- but the execution here is generally at such a high level, it almost always works.  I’ve gotten the chills.  I’ve stifled the gasps.  And I’m about two steps short of starting a tally of how many times I tear up.  It’s getting pretty high up there.

Am I being emotionally manipulated?  Probably.  Am I an easy mark for this sort of thing?  Probably.  But until proven otherwise, I’m happy to say that, well, I’m happy with My Hero Academia.  There are plenty of viable reasons to point to -- to identify as successes -- with the chief one being the horrifically-lovable cast.  Certainly, All Might is among them.

But here’s the thing.  The deeper I go with the anime, the more I realize something.  I like All Might not because he’s Not-Quite-Anime Superman.  I like him because the more I think about him, the more I suspect he’s actually the worst…which is why he’s the best.



That’s one hell of a hot take, and part of the reason why I put up that borderline-apologetic disclaimer to start.  So with that said, let me annoy you with another disclaimer.  When I say “the worst”, I don’t mean that in an insulting way.  That’s not a slight against the character.  Honestly, you could just chalk it up as me trying to garner more pageviews with such an inflammatory claim at the start.  If it worked, I guess that means my Quirk is Clickbait.

If you’ve ever read a story more complex than The Three Little Pigs (and even then…), you know that there are multiple ways to handle writing a character.  See, what you want to do is create someone with flaws.  Tangible, identifiable flaws that have an effect on the story -- on the plot, or the character themselves.  It can be used to create drama or conflict, on the one hand.  On the other, you could just go with the basic and expected, and have the character work to overcome their flaws.  It’s that magical thing we call an arc.  Or character development, I don’t know, it’s weird and complicated.




In terms of general conversation -- or words spewed onto a page of the internet -- I can imagine it getting kind of hard to differentiate meanings.  So I’ll go ahead and make it clear now: A “flawed character” is one that has issues with his or her execution.  The creator may have had a plan or idea in mind, but for whatever reason it didn’t translate properly into the story.  Because of it, you get a fictional character whose flaws hamper their arc, story, or general existence.  See: Lightning from Final Fantasy 13, and The Lightning Saga (HRRRRRRRRRRGHK) in general.

Then you have “a character with flaws” -- someone whose failings and foibles are an active, intended part of the story.  Lines tend to blur along the way, considering that flaws can be executed well or poorly; still, let’s not worry about that for now.  What’s important is that you can look at a character, perceive that they have issues -- hubris, naivete, cowardice, etc. -- and then watch as those flaws actively, effectively build a road for the narrative to follow.

See: All Might.

Well, sort of.  But before we get to him, it’s important to set the stage.


I know it’s easy to overlook (especially if you’re not me) because of the context.  Whee, superheroes!  Whee, shonen action!  Whee, waifus!  Wee, All Might is such a goofball!  But then you really start to think about it, and suddenly you realize “Wait, this world is kind of fucked, isn’t it?”  And it is, in a low-key way.  My Hero Academia may be full of superheroes, but they’re both a respite from and the cause of the bleak harshness that runs under the surface.

There is a stark difference between the haves and the have-nots.  And it’s not always a wall that can be overcome with smarts or fighting spirit; if you don’t have the right genes, you’re at a disadvantage.  If you can’t get the most out of your genes, you’re at a disadvantage.  If you run into someone whose genes are a hard counter to your genes, you’re at a disadvantage.  One of Midoriya’s very first lines is “All men are not created equal.”  Despite the inherent optimism of the story and genre, he’s exactly right.


I’m tempted to say that it’s just an issue for those that want to become heroes, but is it, though?  Midoriya being Quirkless is basically treated like a birth defect, forcing him to endure years of shame and shunning.  How many others in the MHA universe have the same backstory?  How many others were forced to face such a harsh reality, day after day after day?  In a society that likely idolizes heroes, having zero potential on that front is two steps shy of a death knell.

It’s almost enough to make me nod in agreement with Shigaraki, of all people.  The world is messed up, and something needs to be done about it -- preferably not by disintegrating people or calling in mutant supermen to wreak havoc, but whatever.  The important thing is that the concepts of heroism that MHA is built on are flawed.  In a lot of ways, I’d argue, but for now let’s pare it down to two.  Or, more precisely, one question.  Based on what I’ve seen, there are two answers to “How do you stop a villain?

1) Use overwhelming force.
2) Use a Quirk that’s a counter-pick to the opponent.


This has been a recurring element in the show’s battles, as early as episode 1.  All Might beat that sludge monster with a combination of overwhelming force and a counter-pick; his Texas Smash had enough power to generate gale force winds, meaning that he didn’t even have to touch the villain to save Midoriya.  Grimer McGee didn’t stand a chance.  In the next episode?  You get to see a swath of heroes who can only stand there and twiddle their thumbs, waiting for backup -- for “someone with a suitable Quirk” -- when really, any one of the could have followed Midoriya’s example and thrown some shit at them.

Not too long ago, I praised MHA for putting emphasis on brains as well as brawn.  Tactics instead of power levels.  I still stand by that -- but it seems as if there’s an ingrained notion that overwhelming force and counter-picks are the dominant, preferable strategy.  To put it in perspective?  Imagine playing Street Fighter and knowing you’re going to fight a Zangief.  And instead of applying yourself to systematically dismantle the opponent -- using proper spacing, footsies, reactions, reads, etc. -- you just pick Guile and chuck Sonic Booms all day.  And Flash Kick as needed.



I’m not saying that All Might is the cause of this borked hero culture…but I am implying it.  And to be clear, it’s not as if it was a conscious effort to take such noble ideals -- indeed, the very idea of putting yourself on the line for others -- and twisting it.  The number one hero, the Symbol of Peace, merely did A) what came naturally, and B) what he thought was right.  Given that his big debut showed him saving hundreds in mere minutes with a smile on his face, the guy was damn good at his job.  He became an inspiration to the people.

That’s a blessing and a curse.  Not being the creator of MHA, I have to wonder if the lessons learned from All Might were 100% positive, or 100% negative.  I’d bet that it’s less dire than I make it sound, but my interpretation is that the learning process wasn’t 100% positive.  Honestly, I’m not even sure if it’s a 50-50 split.  Did All Might teach the people to become their very best, pushing their limits and boldly moving toward a brighter future?  To some, yes -- Midoriya, Todoroki, Bakugo, and more.  Did All Might inadvertently instill a sense of complacency and misunderstanding of worth in the process?  Possibly.  

In a world where 80% of the population has some kind of superpower, you’re telling me that people would’ve been happy to just stand there and wait for All Might to show up?  Nobody could have done something about that sludge monster?  I mean, come on.  Mt. Lady was literally overlooking the scene; she might not have been able to step in that cramped alley, but she couldn’t have reached in and tugged Bakugo free?  Really?

Then again, sometimes it seems like “hero” and “Mt. Lady” don’t belong in the same sentence, sooooooooooooooo…*casual shrug*


It can’t be denied that All Might has done great things for the world, seen and unseen.  Yeas, a lot of that is owed to the fact that he’s fast and strong and tough; his feats of superhuman ability are as awe-inspiring as they are effective against villains.  For a decent-sized chunk of the main cast (and beyond) the best parts of him are worth striving for: reaching that zenith and standing tall in the so-called chaotic world.  Even then, it’s not just his muscles that make him iconic.  It’s his charisma.  His presence.  His ability to touch hearts with more than just his fists; no matter how righteous his physique, it’s obvious that there’s a brain to him instead of more muscle on top of muscles.

But like I said before, All Might put himself into the worst possible situation -- partly on his own, and partly because of the nature of his title.  He always has to be there to help others.  He always has to smile.  He always has to go full blast.  Plus ultra, even.  And to what end?  To reinforce the importance of being a have instead of a have-not?  To give the masses their daily dose of soma, making them dependent on one man and the idea he peddles?  To go beyond while, paradoxically, refusing to go one step and acknowledge something as simple as the truth?


All Might is basically a skeleton man now.  A skeleman, if you will.  Given that the grievous, organ-ruining injury he took has required multiple surgeries to take care of -- and have left him an emaciated husk forced to ration out his hero time -- the man has every reason to call it quits.  Throw in the towel.  Resign with dignity.  But he can’t.  One reason for that is obvious: if the Symbol of Peace falters, then who’ll be there to stop the nastiest villains of all?  

Who’ll serve as an inspiration?  Who can do what he did for a solid decade?  In theory, that’s where a protege or successor would come in.  In practice?  Given that he only just found a protege about a year ago (I.e. found Midoriya and helped him train his body for the bare minimum of competence with One for All), retirement is a pipe dream.

…Well, I say that, but I know what happens later on in the show.  But in the interest of not overworking verb tenses, work with me here.


The man can’t give it up -- but if I had to make a guess, I’d say he doesn’t want to give it up.  Is it just because he’s holding out until Midoriya masters his Quirk?  Maybe.  Or maybe he can’t quit the attention.  The glamour.  The acknowledgement of his talent.  The adoration of his fans.  The adrenaline rush of battle.  The accomplishment of standing over another broken-down villain.  

It’s not just an issue with All Might, but a question on the nature of altruism itself.  Do people do good things simply because it’s the right thing to do?  Or is it because they expect rewards, from monetary gain all the way down to a simple thank you?  If you think it’s the latter, then you might start giving the Symbol of Peace the stink-eye.

Here’s the thing, though: I’d bet good money that All Might is aware of his failings -- that he’s either hit the limit of what he can do, or knows that his time is running out and he has to rush to make amends.  A man who confesses to a stranger that he smiles to run away from his fears isn’t the sort of man who would mindlessly play Superman day and night.  He may still have time left on the earth (for now), but that’s exactly why he can’t throw up his hands and pretend it’s over.  He’s trying to lay the groundwork for a better future.

It’s just…well…I think he’s kind of bad at it.


The good thing about this character is that there are two sides to the argument -- that the actions he takes and the decisions he makes are debatable as well as defensible.  That’s good.  If I could just say “he’s an idiot for doing this, this, and this,” then this would be a very different post (presumably involving Groose’s theme).  

Example: All Might has a fight with a Noumu, and is specifically told that the monster has shock absorption powers to dampen physical attacks.  Given that All Might’s strength might as well break the charts, why does he continue to land “more than 300 mighty blows” instead of grabbing and chucking the asshole into the stratosphere?  I guess the idea is that he had to weaken/stun Noumu first, because otherwise e would have gotten bitten in an artery or something.  You can point out what seems like a plot hole, only for common sense to kick in and fill the hole back up.

Given that, it’s possible -- if not preferable -- to reevaluate events in a more appropriate way.  “Did All Might do the right thing?”  Opinions may vary, but at least there’s room for debate.  Did All Might do the right thing by becoming a teacher at U.A.?  On one hand, yes, because he’s teaching other young wannabe heroes how to be their best.  On the other hand, no; he made himself, and the children he’s responsible for, face a horde of villains with lethal intent because they wanted a piece of the Symbol of Peace.  Way to be.


You could go back and forth on a lot of points, but the important one is a simple one: All Might is not what I’d call Teacher of the Year material.  He’s pinned his hopes on Midoriya, but doesn’t warn him that One for All will shatter his limbs the first go round.  He doesn’t explain how to start regulating that power -- just asks if he’s made any progress, says he hasn’t made full progress, and puts a percentage to his output level.  And how many times has the man been absent?

I’m not just pulling that out of my ass.  All Might confesses in secret (in writing) to Gran Torino that he needs help and doesn’t have a handle on the teacher role.  That’s kind of a problem when you decide to become a teacher at one of the most prominent hero schools in the whole country, but whatever.  The most crucial factor of all is that he recognizes his mistakes.  He may stumble along the way, but he’s making an effort to be a better teacher -- and a pillar of support to Midoriya.

It’s not hard to see why.


Teaching Midoriya how to use One for All is supremely important, sure.  But it’s not just about having Green Naruto get the most out of his Quirk.  If it was, then he could’ve pulled the kid away and trained him in private.  No, I think that the most important part of All Might’s evolution -- of his transition into being a full-fledged teacher, and to overcome the faults within and without -- is that he’s thinking on a broader scope.  Having made an impact on the world, he’s long since realized that it’s neither heaven sent, no in hell just yet.  There’s still room to improve.

The problem is that the man himself can’t enact that improvement.  Not on his own.  Not with his emaciated self -- and not even with the herculean hero who’s feared and revered.  As someone who built up and tainted the world of MHA, All Might has to have realized on some level that no amount of Smashes he throws will change things.  In order to have the planet go beyond, it needs fresh blood.  New ideas.  Symbols that move the world in a different, stabler, stronger direction.  By willingly passing the torch to someone else, he’s put his hopes in the possibility -- if not the likelihood -- that his successor will change and save the world in a way All Might never could.

So I’ll finish with this: All Might may not be the perfect character, but he sure knows how to pick ‘em.


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