The Enduring Mystery Of Miraculous Ladybug

0
351

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir can only be described as completely baffling. Known within its (extensive, as in ostensibly millions strong) fandom as Miraculous Ladybug, Miraculous, or simply MLB, it’s a French 3D animated show aimed primarily at a middle grade audience (kids ages 7-12) about two superheroes and, eventually, their classmates and other superhero friends. But as the show enters its fourth season, that the show has a massive fanbase made up of teens and young adults is evidenced by the artists, fanfiction writers, and TikTokers creating more and more content for it. So what’s the deal?

The 4-1-1:

The premise of the show is simple. Marinette is a clumsy baker’s daughter. Adrien is a teen model and the son of one of the world’s premier fashion designers. One day, a mentor figure named Master Fu decides that they (as in, two fourteen year old children) are the fated saviours of their home city of Paris, giving them magical jewels imbued with the respective powers of creation and destruction. She receives the former; he receives the latter, and together they form the miraculous duo Ladybug and Chat Noir. As heroes, Chat is in love with Ladybug. As civilians, Marinette is in love with Adrien. Neither knows the other’s secret identity. Shenanigans ensue.

As for the show’s antagonist? In a classic case of Evil Adult vs Literal Children(TM), enter Hawkmoth—a fully grown man of initially indeterminate identity (no spoilers, shhhhh). He wants to steal Ladybug and Chat Noir’s magical jewels (dubbed the “miraculous”) in hopes of gaining a loosely described “ultimate power.” Good ol’ Hawky does so not by emerging from his extremely sketchy basement lair—which somehow also has a window overlooking all of Paris—and beating up said fourteen year olds himself, but by “akumatizing” a person who’s experiencing negative emotions and turning them into his lackey, feat. quirky costumes and powers that look straight out of a child’s colouring book. The akumatized victim is almost invariably someone with a personal relationship to Marinette or Adrien, and only one person in the city of Paris (pop. 2.1 million) is allowed to have negative feelings at a time. But we don’t talk about that.

The Appeal?

As someone who’s been (with guilt) watching this show since the seventh grade, I’ll admit, I’m attached. There’s nothing I want more than to see these two finally figure out each others’ identities. But the fact is that the show itself is ridiculous, and as it departs more and more from its simplistic original formula by introducing new heroes, new powers, and new antagonists as any show is wont to do, one look at any Miraculous-related comment section will give you a sense for the real feelings of the fandom towards the show. Namely, that most of them hate the show to varying degrees, particularly the new season. And yet they keep watching, keep consuming content for it, and keep creating fanworks.

In my opinion, the appeal isn’t that difficult to see even for people who would personally never partake. The writing has its problems, but the animation is pretty (most of the time—thanks, SAMG Animation), and the show features a strong (if heavily caricaturized) female lead who isn’t afraid to enforce that consent is important, an interesting and moderately diverse supporting cast with fun interaction, and let’s not forget the entire existence of Chat Noir (although, PSA, stop sexualizing minors. It’s not cool, even if they’re completely fictional).

Most importantly, I think, the large existing fanbase perpetuates itself—fans beget fans. This is true of most fandoms, and I’m willing to bet a lot of Miraculous content creators and fandom members are in fact staying because of the emotional attachment derived from exposure to fanworks rather than the show itself. If we were all watching in a vacuum, there’s a chance that many of us would have dropped it as fan-favourite character arcs got scrapped (looking at you, Chloe). And the fact is, the love square and interesting character interactions set against the backdrop of colourful and cartoonish villains-of-the-week and levity of the plot in general make it prime fanworks material.

It Goes Beyond Just This Show

Regardless, the success of the show raises some interesting questions about the willingness of consumers (particularly millennials and members of Gen Z) to consume potentially problematic or “bad” media for a quick and easy rush. Is it really about the quality of the work? Or is it really all about nostalgia, emotional investment, and the catharsis of watching a story play out? Furthermore, is recent generations’ enjoyment of children’s television and similarly structured pieces of media, as well as of fanworks posted on platforms like Instagram, AO3, Tiktok, or Tumblr, a symptom of our decreasing attention spans? Is it perhaps the cause or a contributing factor?

These are all big questions—definitely too big to be answered by a sub 1000 word article about a middle grader’s superhero cartoon. But they’re definitely worth considering, especially since the Internet and quick and easy ways of communication and sharing media are going to be defining traits of the way recent and upcoming generations learn, live, and work from start to finish. In the meantime, consider watching an episode or two, and share in my pain over this show which, in its fourth season, is finally demonstrating some signs of real plot development.

For more about the online world and media today, check out fellow blogger David Shao’s post on digital privacy. Or, if you’re looking for your fiction fix in a more ink-and-paper format, check out this post and this post on recent Young Adult book releases for every mood.

Until next time!