2/10/2008
Shortcomings (Optic Nerve #9-11)
Ben Tanaka is the latest maladjusted protagonist from Optic Nerve creator Adriane Tomine. He's the Japanese-American manager of an indie movie theater in Berkeley, California, and claims that race plays no importance to his identity. In contrast his girlfriend Miko Hayashi treats race as a cornerstone of her life - She helps organize a local Asian-American film festival. Lately, their relationship is in a rut. Ben can't hide his contempt for the high-minded, sentimental, drivel that wins the festival prize. During the ride home he unloads all his venom on her:
His hypocrisy is exposed when Miko discovers his porn collection and notices that Ben nurtures a hidden attraction for blonde, white women, which he vehemently denies. But when she later leaves for New York for an internship, he makes several vain attempts to fulfill those fantasies. Still he can't stop pointing-out the usual Asian stereotypes. Can't this guy shut-up for one moment?
Ben is prick: Unable to face his own shortcomings, he acts superior to everyone and won't give anyone any leeway. The only person who can stand him is Korean-American graduate student Alice Kim, a serial-dating lesbian. When he's around her, he's at least a little more relaxed, and even a little funny. He's even willing to be her beard to present to her disapproving parents - a Japanese boyfriend being far more acceptable than discovering she's gay.
Shortcomings is Tomine's most ambitious work to date. It's his most explicit attempt to tackle the social issues of ethnicity, sexuality, and social status. Unlike his colleague Daniel Clowes, he eschews flights of surrealism for an unadorned, formal-realist style laid out in a nine-panel grid. It's so cold and objective, and has its share of detractors. It probably doesn't help that his subject-matter is about self-absorbed twenty-thirty somethings. And Ben Tanaka is a rather loathsome character. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted more than once to punch him in the face. But for those looking for an honest, understated, unsentimental slice-of-life storytelling, this is Tomine's most mature and personal work.