TMNT: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in fifty words or less: Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and Michaelangelo are back -- approximately ten years after their previous Shredder-slaughtering adventures. Some things have changed. Some things haven't. Alpha male-ing ensues.

Disclaimer: As moriarty6 likes to remind me, TMNT is based on a series of black and white comics from BackInTheDay; and although I've been told about these comics, I have not read them. The bulk of my exposure to TMNT as a phenomenon comes via my brother, who had a little boy squee-on for the turtles when he was a wee sprog. I'm not unfamiliar with the turtle universe, but I'm not an expert on the subject, either.

[Spoilers to come, in case you care.]

Since my very first exposure to TMNT as a cartoon many years ago, I always found it awkward and unrealistic that these 4 peers were shoe-horned into a pack-style hierarchy of authority.

At apex alpha there's Splinter, of course -- the martial artist rat who appears to be significantly older than the turtles. He taught them everything they know, and they defer to him as Father. That's fine, but since Splinter rarely engages the outside world in any capacity, the 4 turtles are forced to work out their own system of interaction for those regular occasions where Splinter is absent. Splinter is instrumental in this organization, of course, though he can't enforce it when he isn't there.

Leonardo emerges as the "leader" for a variety of spurious reasons; he's oldest (yet from the same batch of pet turtles?), and he supposedly demonstrates the best balance of Leader traits such as confidence, skill, and compassion. Well, okay. It's tough to quantify these traits, but since Leo is endorsed by Splinter, he gets to wear the chief hat. As for the other three, Mikey's the stupid one, Donnie's the brain, and Raph is the impulsive, aggressive one who has a problem with authority.

When TMNT begins, Leo has been gone for over a year. Splinter sent him off to Central America under some vague directive that he learn to become a better leader ... though whether this was a correspondence course or a lifestyle shift, it's hard to tell. For reasons that are also unexplained, Leo feels like he's failed in this quest -- so he opts to remain south of the border, fighting banditos and lurking as the Ghost of the Jungle.

Splinter and the other 3 turtles continue their various respective existences under NYC. Donatello works tech support by phone, Mikey does children's parties, and Raphael works the night beat as a vigilante called the Nightwatcher. His secret identity remains a secret until Casey Jones joins him in a sidekick capacity.

[By the way, Casey Jones and April live in sin, in a very nice apartment. But that's not really important to the story. It's only worth mentioning because they work some sort of antiquities business together(?). Or something. Which is how the turtles get involved in the monster plot.]

Anyway. Leo catches a plane back to the states and spontaneously tries to reestablish his team leader status. Everyone is delighted, except for Raphael -- who's doing just fine on his own, and doesn't really seem to require a team, or a leader. He's smart and strong and capable, and his vigilante gig is going quite well. Raph challenges Leo's assigned alpha status, and therein lies the conflict in the film -- far more so than the um, thirteen monsters, the stone generals of evil, shifty rich dude Mr. Winters, and the Foot clan (sans the deceased Shredder).

In one wild rooftop scene, Leonardo confronts the Nightwatcher -- not realizing yet that it's his brother -- and they do battle. Raph's helmet comes off, his identity is revealed, and the two brothers engage in an earnest attempt to kill one another (as far as I can tell). It was a classic pack dominance scenario; the existing alpha defends his seniority by pounding the upstart into the pavement ... except that Raph is actually a better fighter, and he wins the confrontation. He doesn't kill Leo, obviously, but he wins by the pack's own rules. He successfully defends his autonomy, and establishes his right to act without a leader.

But moments after his victory -- from which he immediately flees, cackling and wheezing with elation -- Leo is assaulted and captured by Evil Forces. Probably the most realistic and oddly poignant moment in the movie is Raph's collapse into leader responsibilities mere seconds after he's seized his freedom -- even though he doesn't want those responsibilities, at all. He recognizes that although he's removed himself from the pack, he has earned the pack's top alpha position ... and when the ex-alpha is in danger, it's Raph's duty to assist him. Sure, Leo is his brother -- but more important to the structure of things, Leo is now Raph's beta. You beat it, you own it. And you're responsible for it.

Alas, it's pretty clear that Raph doesn't want to be in charge. He wants neither authority nor subservience. He just wants to do his own thing, in no small part because he's good at doing his own thing. He's much happier being a mysterious one-man-band than he is serving the team as a beta male support member. But he's so thoroughly conditioned to pack mentality that he can't drop it.

Raph does a fairly good job of rallying the troops, seizing the day, and leading the charge for a rescue. And the very moment that Leo is released from his cage to rejoin the pack, Raph goes down on bended knee and rescinds his hard-won authority. Just like that. He was free and clear and happily doing his own thing for maybe fifteen seconds. What rip-off.

If Raph had lost his fight with Leo, or if he met failure when he did things his own way -- or if the structured team approach ever once proved to be the superior (rather than a comparable) approach anywhere in the movie, that would've been one thing. It would have narratively validated Raph's decision to abdicate his autonomy. He would've learned that teamwork is a better way for him/his pack to achieve goals.

But that's not the way it's ever worked, at any point. Most of the combat success occurs either (a). by Raph alone or (b). by haphazard individual conquest. In fact, the story often undermines teamwork as a useful pack construct. The Foot Clan (pack) fails repeatedly to subdue the 13 monsters, the Stone Generals (pack) fail to overthrow the lone wolf leader who revived them, and the turtles only manage to rally at the end with the help of assorted others NOT belonging to their immediate pack. It seems to me that the main thematic slogan ought to be, "Teamwork: Sometimes, It Works Okay!"


At any rate, that's really the number one thing that gripes my soul about the Turtles franchise -- it smacks of cooperative learning. No one is permitted to stand out and excel because the group dynamic prohibits it. At best, the result is collective competence (though rarely excellence); at worst, the one competent kid ends up trying to do everyone else's work -- and if you've ever been that kid, you know how this plays out. If a project fails, the good kid takes the fall because he/she should've contributed more to the effort; if it succeeds, he/she is stripped of individual credit.

So for me, that's why Raph's submission doesn't ring true. He was right to be angry at Leo's return and his assumptions of power. He was right when he insisted that he was doing just fine without following anyone else's orders. He was right when he said he was the best fighter. And he was right to be frustrated about being forced into a beta role when he didn't want to participate in the pack in the first place. So why would he willingly self-emasculate and defer to his sibling? He doesn't perform better as part of the pack. He knows he's strongest, and that by rights he shouldn't be subject to his brother's authority. Is it purely because Splinter prefers it, and Raph prefers to honor Splinter?

Well maybe, I guess. But that can't last for long. Eventually Leo will be a pushy bastard one time too many; eventually Splinter will die and leave the brothers to work out their own fragile hierarchy. Eventually Raph will remember where he left his balls.


It's sort of a shame, really. The one honestly compelling character loses all credibility at the end of what's otherwise perfectly fluffy matinee candy. Oh well. If you enjoyed the original live-action movie, you'll probably enjoy this one too.

I give it an "E" for effort.