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B4-NINETEEN: Braveheart

Thursday, January 21

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Alder Building, Room 237 was where the Tokyexico University APPEAL chapter had met the one time Bianca and I had attended a meeting. Last January, it had felt like walking into a den of Scytheteeth, even with the script that said, ‘Shut up and stay quiet.’ This time, showing up for the Film History club, I couldn’t help but have that same feeling.

Still, the smell of pizza sauce mixed with bagpipe music in the air outside, and there wasn’t an official greeter or anything, so Bianca and I ducked inside.

“Hello,” someone said, and a couple of history students glanced our way, but no one ran over to introduce us to the crowd. Which, honestly, was probably for the best. We slipped away to the middle seats, where we wouldn’t intrude on any cliques that had formed throughout the year.

I looked around the room while Bee got in line for pizza. No one looked familiar. I half-expected to see Avan here, or someone else from my Post-Launch Day History class. But no, most of the students here were either older—juniors or seniors—or freshmen. Part of the goal was to meet other people. Still, a lot of the people at the other tables were already engrossed in discussions about India, the Australians’ lost war against the emus, or a dozen other topics I wasn’t familiar with.

Instead, I decided to wait for pizza. I didn’t have to wait long, either. Bee sat down with four pepperoni slices, then disappeared, only to return with drinks. “You should have come with me. I could have used the hands.”

I shrugged. “Hey, someone has to hold the seats. Gotta have a good view for the movie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you tell yourself to justify not helping me,” Bee said, winking. She sat down and started eating.

We hadn’t even gotten through our first slice when a woman a couple of years older than me stood up and cleared her throat at the podium. “Hello. I’m Catherine, the unofficial president of History and Film. This semester’s theme is resistance against overwhelming foes—we’ve got a couple of members who are also part of APPEAL, and they put together the only voting block when we were deciding on a theme. Before we get started, is there any business for the good of the order? No? Okay, great.”

I sighed. Bee shot me a look, and I pulled myself together. It wasn’t just that the club seemed fly-by-night compared to APPEAL or even TUSSA. It was that APPEAL had their fingers here, too. What did they think they were resisting? Me?

She clapped her hands. “Now, here’s the deal with Braveheart. We pick this movie every year for the first movie of the second semester because it doesn’t do a good job of being historically accurate, but it’s a game-changing movie in history in a lot of ways. I’ll give bonus points to any new table that comes up with both a historical fail—costuming, order of events, anachronistic language or accents, and so on—and a plausible or proven real-world impact the movie had. Right now, Knights of the Square Table’s in the lead. Anyone brave enough to take them down?”

I blinked. What the hell was she talking about? Bee raised her hand. “Hey, is this competitive? How do the points work?”

Catherine nodded, staring Bee in the eye. “You’re new, huh? Welcome. Yeah, it’s semi-competitive, unofficially. Some of the groups treat movie nights like trivia games, and since it gets more people engaged with how we want to approach movies, I’m all for it. So, Knights of the Square Table’s got a lead going into the second semester. Let’s do this thing. You can register your team after the movie if you want.”

“But what do you get for winning?” Bee asked. I could see her mind turning over—how she could pull off a win here. My eyes rolled before I could stop myself, and I buried myself in my pizza so she wouldn’t see.

“Bragging rights.” Catherine pressed play, and the movie started.

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As the narrator described the final battle after Wallace’s execution, the eye-rolls in the Alder Building were practically palpable. I looked around; I’d thought it was pretty good. A little—okay, a lot—dated, but I could see why people liked it. What I couldn’t see were the historical fails that the Knights of the Square Table were already rattling off one after another—flawed music, poor costuming, and, of course, entire battles out of order.

Catherine let them talk for a while, scribbling on a notepad as they went. Then, she listened to the other groups speak for a while. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Okay, so obviously, the movie’s not historically accurate. Why do we show it when we could be showing a dozen other, better films instead? What’s so important about it?”

Silence. Dead silence. If it weren’t for Bianca eating a fourth slice of pizza, I’d have been able to hear Candice breathe. The Knights of the Square Table looked around, almost daring someone to answer.

A rival table did. A boy with dark, curly hair stood up. “Okay, so, Pre-Launch Day, the Scottish part of the United Kingdom had a series of referendums on becoming independent. They’d been tied to England for hundreds of years—long enough that people had gotten used to it. They held a vote in 2014 and didn’t vote for independence, but it was close.”

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“And why do we care?” Catherine asked.

“Because the vote took place on the 700th anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn.”

“Partial points there. Open for clean-up.”

Now, one of the Knights stood up. “I’ll clean up the answer. I’ve heard there was a divide between people in their twenties and younger when Braveheart came out, who generally voted yes, and older voters who tended to vote no. So, Braveheart’s historically significant not because it’s a historically accurate movie—go watch The Return of Martin Guerre if you want that—but because it influenced history after it.”

“Points awarded.” Catherine nodded. “So, do we call it a historically useful movie?”

“No,” the Knight responded. “It messed with history too much to be anything but a propaganda piece.”

“I disagree.” The black-haired boy wasn’t ready to give up. He breathed in and set himself like he was going to battle. “Just because something’s not real doesn’t mean it doesn’t create beliefs or influence behavior. And that’s really what we’re talking about. Besides, to say that Braveheart is just a propaganda piece devalues the historical significance of propaganda. Half the films we watched last semester qualify as propaganda, but that doesn’t mean they’re not important.”

“Okay, point conceded,” the Knight said, sitting back down.

The discussion raged about whether films had that much influence or not, but eventually, the lights in the Alder Building flickered, signaling the Film History Club members that it was time to leave. Catherine cleared her throat again. “Okay. One month until we dig into a weird one that’s never come up before. Next time, we’ll be watching a movie called The Counterfeiters, about resistance against the Nazis in World War Two. I’m excited to explore a lesser-known story, so thanks to Jeremy for bringing it up.

“Remember, our theme this year is resistance against overwhelming foes. Come ready to discuss how small actions can influence massive events. Thanks for attending, and I’ll see you in February.”

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By the time I got back to Walnut Tower, Room 1301, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I understood what Su-Bun thought she was fighting for and what the Film History class thought Wallace had been fighting for. And, from a certain point of view, they were similar. If you put the Ilneats in the role of England and APPEAL as the Scotts, at least. I wasn’t sure where that left me, though.

I needed to make a phone call.

As the phone sat on my coffee table, ringing, and Bianca and I stared at it, I tried to compose myself for the conversation I was about to have. Su-Bin’s name appeared on the phone, and her voice came through a moment later.

“Hey, Annie.”

“Hi. Bee’s here with me. Do you have a couple of minutes?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Su-Bin sounded stressed.

I looked Bee’s way, and she picked up the thread. “Before we jump into that, obligatory small talk time. How’s living at home going?”

Su-Bin went quiet for a minute. “It’s fine. Mom and Dad mostly leave me alone, and they have some good ideas for APPEAL. But it’s so much harder to focus on my schoolwork, and I’ve been missing meetings.”

“Ouch.” I paused, and the pause went from pregnant to awkward quickly. “Are you still seeing Cam?”

“Yeah. I’ve gotten to ‘see him’ see him twice, and it’s not really enough. But we’re making it work. Sort of get what my roommate was about now, though, with always having her boyfriend over.”

Bee grinned at me, winked, and said, “Yeah, it’s nice to have your partner nearby.”

The silence stretched a little awkwardly before Su-Bin picked up the conversation. “So, do you need something, or are you just catching up?”

I nodded. “Actually, yeah, I’ve got questions. I haven’t been ‘getting’ APPEAL, and I want to know what you think you’re fighting for.”

“We want to go back to when people weren’t reliant on superheroes to protect them from supervillains,” Su-Bin rattled off.

“And what about the Ilneats?” I asked.

“Well, they’re a core part of the problem, right? They’ve got this whole TV show thing going on, and they’re focused on ratings, but they’re not actually worried about the consequences of what they’re doing. By using superheroes and supervillains, they can get away with a bunch of stuff Earth wouldn’t put up with—and we’re grateful because they saved us from ourselves. They keep the spotlight on the fighting and the devastation, and that keeps us busy.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s a change from last year, huh?”

“It’s a change from last semester. I’ve been doing a lot of reading up on anti-Ilneat schools of thought. I realized that making a conflict with Magical Girl Understudy wasn’t solving the real problem. It happened around the time Golden Goose died. Whatever happened with her, I’m not convinced she’s solely responsible. A monster and a danger, yeah.”

I waited for the ‘but,’ but it didn’t come. That was okay; Su-Bin obviously hadn’t fully formed the thought in her head, and maybe she hadn’t even talked with APPEAL about it yet. Besides, I’d gotten what I wanted out of the conversation. “So, what game would you like to play when we get a virtual tabletop going?”

“There’s a superhero card game I’ve been looking at,” Su-Bin said.

I stared at the phone, dumbfounded, and then burst into laughter.

“What?”

“You’ve never been a fan of superheroes,” Bee responded, suppressing laughter of her own, “and you run the anti-super club.”

“So? I can enjoy the fiction and not like the reality.” Su-Bin stopped. “I’ll try to find it online and see if we can play it. I think you two would like it a lot; it skips over the bad stuff and focuses only on the enjoyable fantasy of being a speedster or a Magical Girl.”

We talked about the rest of the game for fifteen minutes, then Su-Bin yawned. “I hate to do this to you girls, but I’m about done for the night. If you want, I’d love to talk more about supers and Ilneats tomorrow—or any time, once I’ve fully wrapped my head around what I’m thinking.”

“Sure. Sleep well,” I said. Bee said her goodbyes, and we hung up.

Right away, Bee looked at me. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m not.” And it was true. For all that Su-Bin had sounded exhausted, I was just as beat—maybe more so, even. The movie had lasted way too late, and all I wanted to do now was sleep.

But after changing into my pajamas and crawling into bed, as I waited for sleep with Bee’s arms around me, I couldn’t stop hearing bagpipe music.