Part 4. The Movie and the Collapse into Singularity
This last part is a critique of the aforementioned problems in the structure of the show, and how they're shown in the movie.
Steven Universe: The Movie offers what is perhaps the clearest illustration of how the series’ narrative logic converges on a single epistemic center. The film introduces Spinel as a figure shaped by abandonment, historical erasure, and unresolved grief—precisely the kind of character whose pain would seem to demand collective reckoning. Her suffering is not the result of a single betrayal, but of an entire system built around Diamond authority, deferred responsibility, and narrative disappearance. In theory, this makes her an ideal test case for the show’s commitment to multiplicity.
In practice, however, the film resolves Spinel’s conflict through a familiar mechanism. Although the Crystal Gems are physically present during Steven’s confrontation with her, they are rendered narratively inert. They do not meaningfully engage, offer alternative interpretations, or participate in the emotional labor of recognition. The scene is staged so that Steven and Spinel appear to be the only subjects in the room, while the others function as static witnesses. Multiplicity does not fail here—it simply does not act.
Once again, Steven is framed as the sole character who reaches out. He is the only one permitted to recognize Spinel’s pain as such, the only one whose acknowledgment carries narrative weight, and the only one positioned to reframe her story. Spinel is not reconciled with the Crystal Gems as fellow survivors of Pink Diamond’s legacy, nor with the broader history that produced her abandonment. She is reconciled with Steven. Her story becomes legible when it passes through him.
This structure collapses the distinctions established elsewhere in the series. Steven does not merely mediate between perspectives; he becomes the condition under which perspectives can matter at all. The Crystal Gems’ collective history remains unspoken. The Diamonds’ role in Spinel’s suffering is displaced rather than confronted. What appears to be an expansion of empathy instead functions as a narrowing of agency.
At the same time, the film quietly reaffirms the logic it claims to transcend. Spinel’s worldview—shaped by betrayal and rage—is not treated as a perspective to be situated among others, but as a distortion to be corrected. Change does not emerge through mutual recognition of limits, but through alignment with Steven’s interpretation of events. The question is not how many truths can coexist, but whether Spinel can be brought to see things the “right” way.
In this sense, the Movie does not dismantle the epistemic authority of the Diamond era so much as reassign it. Where White Diamond once claimed to see clearly, Steven now functions as the narrative’s site of clarity. The difference is tonal rather than structural. Authority no longer manifests as domination, but as emotional inevitability. Resistance is not crushed; it is waited out until understanding arrives—through one person alone.
What makes this convergence especially revealing is that it occurs in a story explicitly about lingering harm. The Movie acknowledges that trauma does not vanish when systems fall, yet it resolves that trauma by reinstating a singular epistemic center. Multiplicity is recognized in content but constrained in form. Many stories exist, but only one is allowed to organize them.
By this point, the pattern is no longer incidental. Steven’s epistemological centrality, the Crystal Gems’ narrative inertia, and the replacement of Diamond certainty with compassionate correctness all cohere into a single structure. The series does not merely struggle to escape singularity—it repeatedly returns to it as its primary mode of resolution.
To add on the critique of the others being rendered inert (or are NPCs) during the movie, a controversial YouTuber, EZ PZ made the valid point that, after Steven sings his verse of "True Kinda Love" and is climbing up the injector to confront Spinel and clearly struggling to do so, everyone is just standing there and watching instead of helping in any way (made especially blatant with Lapis who can fly).
Part 4. The Movie and the Collapse into Singularity
This last part is a critique of the aforementioned problems in the structure of the show, and how they're shown in the movie.
Steven Universe: The Movie offers what is perhaps the clearest illustration of how the series’ narrative logic converges on a single epistemic center. The film introduces Spinel as a figure shaped by abandonment, historical erasure, and unresolved grief—precisely the kind of character whose pain would seem to demand collective reckoning. Her suffering is not the result of a single betrayal, but of an entire system built around Diamond authority, deferred responsibility, and narrative disappearance. In theory, this makes her an ideal test case for the show’s commitment to multiplicity.
In practice, however, the film resolves Spinel’s conflict through a familiar mechanism. Although the Crystal Gems are physically present during Steven’s confrontation with her, they are rendered narratively inert. They do not meaningfully engage, offer alternative interpretations, or participate in the emotional labor of recognition. The scene is staged so that Steven and Spinel appear to be the only subjects in the room, while the others function as static witnesses. Multiplicity does not fail here—it simply does not act.
Once again, Steven is framed as the sole character who reaches out. He is the only one permitted to recognize Spinel’s pain as such, the only one whose acknowledgment carries narrative weight, and the only one positioned to reframe her story. Spinel is not reconciled with the Crystal Gems as fellow survivors of Pink Diamond’s legacy, nor with the broader history that produced her abandonment. She is reconciled with Steven. Her story becomes legible when it passes through him.
This structure collapses the distinctions established elsewhere in the series. Steven does not merely mediate between perspectives; he becomes the condition under which perspectives can matter at all. The Crystal Gems’ collective history remains unspoken. The Diamonds’ role in Spinel’s suffering is displaced rather than confronted. What appears to be an expansion of empathy instead functions as a narrowing of agency.
At the same time, the film quietly reaffirms the logic it claims to transcend. Spinel’s worldview—shaped by betrayal and rage—is not treated as a perspective to be situated among others, but as a distortion to be corrected. Change does not emerge through mutual recognition of limits, but through alignment with Steven’s interpretation of events. The question is not how many truths can coexist, but whether Spinel can be brought to see things the “right” way.
In this sense, the Movie does not dismantle the epistemic authority of the Diamond era so much as reassign it. Where White Diamond once claimed to see clearly, Steven now functions as the narrative’s site of clarity. The difference is tonal rather than structural. Authority no longer manifests as domination, but as emotional inevitability. Resistance is not crushed; it is waited out until understanding arrives—through one person alone.
What makes this convergence especially revealing is that it occurs in a story explicitly about lingering harm. The Movie acknowledges that trauma does not vanish when systems fall, yet it resolves that trauma by reinstating a singular epistemic center. Multiplicity is recognized in content but constrained in form. Many stories exist, but only one is allowed to organize them.
By this point, the pattern is no longer incidental. Steven’s epistemological centrality, the Crystal Gems’ narrative inertia, and the replacement of Diamond certainty with compassionate correctness all cohere into a single structure. The series does not merely struggle to escape singularity—it repeatedly returns to it as its primary mode of resolution.
Part 3. The Diamonds and the Illusion of Epistemic Authority
Part three is a critique on how the Diamonds, particulary White Diamond, are handled and the way their arc in the main series is resolved.
The Diamond Authority represents the most explicit articulation of epistemological pride in Steven Universe. Their power is not merely political or physical, but epistemic: they believe they see reality as it truly is. Difference, dissent, and deviation are not interpreted as alternative perspectives, but as errors to be corrected. Within this framework, to disagree is not to hold another view, but to fail to see clearly. The Diamonds do not merely rule the universe; they define what it means to be right.
White Diamond embodies this posture most completely. Her defining claim is not that she is superior, but that she is objective. She experiences herself as occupying a position beyond perspective—a vantage point from which all others can be evaluated, categorized, and corrected. This is why opposition does not threaten her; it confirms her certainty. To resist White Diamond is, by definition, to be wrong.
On its surface, the narrative positions this worldview as the ultimate error to be dismantled. White Diamond’s authority is not challenged through force, but through contradiction: the revelation that she, too, is a perspective, shaped by fear, projection, and denial. Her breakdown is framed as the collapse of the illusion that one can stand outside the self and see the truth directly. In theory, this moment should mark the story’s clearest rejection of epistemological absolutism.
Yet the manner in which this collapse occurs introduces a subtle tension. White Diamond does not arrive at epistemic humility through sustained engagement with alternative perspectives, nor through recognition of irreducible difference. Instead, her certainty is undone by encountering an anomaly she cannot assimilate: Steven. The challenge to her worldview is not plural, but singular. It does not arise from many voices asserting their limits, but from one figure who embodies contradiction in a way her system cannot contain.
This matters because it quietly preserves the structure of epistemic authority even as it appears to dismantle it. White Diamond’s mistake is revealed not through the distributed presence of multiple truths, but through a singular corrective perspective that forces reorientation. The narrative thus risks substituting one form of certainty for another. The question becomes not whether anyone can see clearly, but who is positioned to expose that clarity as false.
At this stage, the story still gestures toward humility. White Diamond is shown to be wrong; her claim to objectivity collapses. However, the authority to reveal this wrongness is not shared. It is concentrated. Steven does not merely confront White Diamond’s certainty—he replaces it as the axis around which reality reorganizes. The danger is not that Steven claims to see the truth, but that the narrative increasingly treats his perspective as the site where truth is resolved.
Here, the critique of epistemological pride begins to bend back on itself. White Diamond is condemned for believing she occupies a position beyond perspective, yet the story resolves her arc by installing another figure whose viewpoint effectively functions as final. The illusion of objectivity is rejected in name, but the narrative remains anchored to a single epistemic center.
At this point, the problem is not yet explicit, but it is palpable. The show warns against the belief “I see clearly,” yet repeatedly resolves conflict by allowing one consciousness to determine when clarity has been achieved. What is dismantled in dialogue risks being preserved in structure.
Part 2. The Crystal Gems and the Limits of Multiplicity
Part two is a critique on how the narrative handles the Crystal Gems and Steven's place in the group.
On the surface, the Crystal Gems appear to embody multiplicity. They are not a monolith but a collective shaped by divergent histories, traumas, and relationships to power. Garnet represents relational synthesis, Pearl embodies devotion and repression, and Amethyst carries the residue of marginalization and resentment. In theory, their coexistence models a plural world—one in which no single perspective can claim total authority.
In practice, however, the narrative repeatedly restricts their ability to act as a collective. When faced with other Gems, systemic threats, or unresolved moral questions, the Crystal Gems are consistently framed as ineffective, stalled, or outmatched. Their experience does not translate into agency, and their differences do not generate alternative strategies. Instead, their plurality collapses into paralysis. Action is deferred, decisions are postponed, and conflicts linger unresolved.
This is not simply a matter of failure. Failure would imply that the Crystal Gems attempt to act and are overcome. More often, the story presents them as holding back—emotionally, strategically, or narratively—until Steven intervenes. Multiplicity exists, but it does not move. The Gems possess perspectives, but those perspectives rarely alter the course of events on their own. What should function as a distributed moral and practical force instead becomes a waiting room.
As a result, Steven does not enter an already dynamic collective; he becomes the condition under which the collective can function at all. His presence transforms plural stasis into singular momentum. Where the Crystal Gems hesitate, he decides. Where they remain divided or uncertain, he synthesizes. Their multiplicity is not enacted through interaction with one another, but mediated through him.
At this stage, the series can still be read charitably as illustrating generational limitation. The Crystal Gems are survivors of an unfinished rebellion, shaped by trauma and defeat, while Steven represents the possibility of renewal. Yet even this framing introduces a structural asymmetry. Renewal is not something the collective grows into together; it arrives embodied in one person. The many do not discover new ways of acting—they are reorganized around a singular axis.
This creates a subtle but consequential shift in how multiplicity is represented. Rather than being a condition that generates action through difference, it becomes a backdrop against which Steven’s interventions stand out. Plural perspectives are acknowledged, but they do not meaningfully contend with one another or produce independent outcomes. They exist to be reconciled, not to act.
Here, an epistemological tension begins to crystallize. If multiplicity is meant to challenge the idea that any one perspective can claim authority, what does it mean when the narrative repeatedly renders the collective inert without a singular mediator? The danger is not that Steven contributes insight, but that insight is narratively centralized—treated as something that must pass through one consciousness in order to matter.
By positioning the Crystal Gems as unable to move forward without Steven, the story quietly conditions the audience to associate progress with singularity rather than plurality. The collective does not fail because multiplicity is unworkable; it fails because multiplicity is never allowed to operate autonomously. What emerges is not a rejection of single-story thinking, but a reconfiguration of it: many voices exist, yet only one is permitted to resolve.
Part 1. Steven’s Epistemological Pride and the Illusion of Transparency
Part one will be a critique of how the series handles Steven's character and addresses his short-comings.
Steven’s central failing is not arrogance in the conventional sense, nor a belief in his own moral superiority. It is epistemological pride: the unexamined assumption that his perspective is not a perspective at all, but a transparent window onto reality. He does not experience himself as interpreting events; he experiences himself as responding directly to what is. As a result, his sincerity becomes inseparable from his blindness. Because he believes he is simply seeing clearly, he cannot recognize the ways in which his own desires, fears, and expectations shape what he perceives.
This failure is most visible in moments where Steven attempts to help others. He does not ask what they want or how they understand their own situations; instead, he responds to the version of them that exists within his own narrative. His interventions are driven less by recognition than by correction. Crucially, Steven does not experience this as imposition. From his perspective, he is not asserting a worldview—he is alleviating suffering. The harm arises not from malice, but from the belief that there is nothing mediating his understanding in the first place.
What makes this epistemological failure especially insidious is that it is often indistinguishable, on the surface, from compassion. Steven’s actions are emotionally legible, ethically motivated, and framed as attempts at connection. Yet the structure of these interactions consistently centers his interpretation as decisive. Others’ perspectives are acknowledged, but only insofar as they can be integrated into his understanding of the situation. When conflict resolves, it does so by aligning with Steven’s view, rather than by exposing its limits.
At this stage, the series appears to be offering a critique of this posture. Steven’s inability to recognize his own lens repeatedly produces unintended harm, suggesting that the show is deeply aware of the dangers inherent in mistaking perspective for truth. However, an early tension begins to emerge between what the narrative condemns in theory and what it validates in practice. Steven’s worldview may be partial, but it is rarely treated as such by the outcomes of the story. His interpretations are not merely expressed—they are allowed to resolve situations.
This raises an uncomfortable question that lingers beneath the surface: if epistemological pride is the belief that one sees reality directly, what does it mean when the narrative repeatedly behaves as though Steven does? The danger is no longer confined to Steven’s internal experience, but begins to implicate the structure of the story itself. A limited perspective can reveal blindness—but only if the world continues to act beyond it. When resolution consistently coincides with a single viewpoint, the distinction between “this is how Steven sees things” and “this is how things are” starts to blur.
At this point, the issue is not yet that the series endorses Steven’s certainty outright. Rather, it quietly trains the audience to experience his perspective as functionally authoritative. His blindness is acknowledged, but its consequences are contained. The narrative corrects him emotionally without fully dislodging his epistemic position. What appears to be a lesson about humility thus risks becoming something more ambiguous: a story that critiques the illusion of transparency while intermittently reproducing it.
(Part 2 will drop at 9:00 P.M.)
Also, Steven's failing may actually be epistemological blindness, not pride.
The Comfort of “Complexity”: How Modern Villain Narratives Still Play It Safe
Using Frollo and Emperor Belos as examples, I will explain in this post how, as far as Disney (and modern narratives as a whole) is concerned, we have refined simplistic villainy opposed to moving past it.
In contemporary animation discourse, “complexity” has become a kind of moral gold standard. Audiences frequently ask for villains who are more nuanced, more layered, more psychologically rich than the flat antagonists of earlier decades. On the surface, shows like The Owl House appear to answer that demand: they offer tragic backstories, ideological justifications, institutional power structures, and villains who speak in the language of righteousness rather than cackling malice. Yet despite this presentation, many of these stories continue to play it remarkably safe. Their complexity is aesthetic, not implicating.
What’s avoided is the most uncomfortable truth of all: cruelty, abuse, and dehumanization are not outside of humanity — they are human capacities.
Instead of confronting that reality, these narratives repeatedly externalize harm, isolating it within singular figures who can be labeled monsters and removed from the moral ecosystem of the story.
This pattern is not new. Disney’s 1996 portrayal of Judge Claude Frollo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame already exemplified it. Despite being inspired by real historical figures, Frollo is denied the banal humanity that makes real perpetrators unsettling. He is cruel without contradiction, abusive without ordinary social context, righteous without recognizable self-deception. The film implicitly defines humanity as synonymous with goodness, kindness, and respect, while cruelty is framed as evidence of inhumanity. The result is a character who feels less like a human capable of atrocity and more like atrocity given human form. Evil is not something people do; it is something monsters are.
The Owl House updates this framework for a modern audience, but it does not meaningfully escape it.
Emperor Belos is frequently praised as a “complex” villain, yet his complexity functions primarily at the level of lore. He has a backstory, an ideology, and a personal narrative of righteousness. But as the series progresses, his humanity is steadily withdrawn rather than interrogated. He becomes increasingly singular, corrupted, and inhuman, ensuring that his refusal to change feels inevitable rather than tragic. His lack of redemption is framed as a bold narrative choice, when in reality it serves the same purpose as Frollo’s monstrosity: it keeps evil contained.
This containment is reinforced structurally. The Coven system — ostensibly an authoritarian institution — is revealed to have never been real at all. Loyalty does not matter. Compliance does not protect anyone. The entire system exists solely to facilitate Belos’s private genocidal plan. Even the chaos of the so-called “Savage Ages,” which justified the system’s creation, is explicitly shown to have been manufactured by Belos himself. In any scenario resembling real history, communities would have eventually recognized that the same figure terrorizing their towns was also offering protection. But the narrative cannot allow that recognition, because recognition would reintroduce shared responsibility.
By making the system fake, the chaos artificial, and the harm entirely centralized, the story evacuates complicity from the world it depicts. Ordinary witches are not participants; they are dupes. Enforcers are not institutional actors; they are either cartoonishly evil or secretly unhappy and therefore redeemable. Once Belos is removed, the moral problem dissolves. Evil had a face, and the face is gone.
This is what “playing it safe” looks like.
When some viewers say they want more complexity, what they often mean is not complexity that implicates them, but complexity that reassures them. They want villains with tragic pasts, darker aesthetics, and ideological rhetoric — not stories that force recognition of how ordinary people sustain harmful systems through fear, convenience, belief, or inertia. They want to feel mature without feeling implicated.
True complexity would ask harder questions. It would allow systems to be real rather than illusory. It would show harm persisting not because of one uniquely evil individual, but because many people made understandable, self-protective, and morally compromising choices. It would refuse to let cruelty be safely labeled as inhuman, insisting instead that it emerges from recognizably human motives: certainty, fear, pride, belonging.
Stories that externalize evil as monstrosity offer moral clarity at the cost of moral insight. They protect the audience by definition, ensuring that harm always looks alien, exaggerated, and distant. But in doing so, they undermine their own warnings. Real atrocities do not require monsters. They require people who believe they are right.
What these narratives ultimately reveal is not that we have moved beyond simplistic villainy, but that we have refined it. The language of complexity has changed, yet the underlying structure remains intact. Evil is still something “they” do — never something we might participate in without realizing it.
And that, more than any lack of redemption arc, is what makes these stories safe.
With the help of ChapGPT, I have essays on what I think of modern narratives (as far as animation is concerned), which will drop later tonight, later on in the week, my thoughts on what some consider the "gold standard" in terms of redemption: Steven Universe (mostly the main series and the movie) will be posted.
Mabel’s in charge of the Mystery Shack after she and Stan made a bet when it comes to both the treatment of people and who can make the most money by the end of Stan’s trip, competing on a game show. “Boss Mabel” premiered on this day, 13 Years Ago.
Ford discovers Bill Cipher’s true motives, the Mystery Shack crew forms a plan to fight back. A final confrontation with Bill leads to the Pines family’s ultimate fate and greatest sacrifice. The Final Episode of Gravity Falls, “Weirdmageddon 3: Take Back the Falls”, premiered on this day, 10 Years Ago.
Steven Universe Future: Volleyball (Monkey Morality Pose) Revisited (Part 1)
After gaining more perspective, I've decided to revisit my first post on this episode, and how it captures themes of generational trauma caused by the inability to step outside your own perspective to truly see yourself and others.
To start off, this promotional poster shows how Steven and the Pearls' coping mechanisms are failing themselves and each other. Pearl's attempts at suppression are blinding her to the pain Steven and Pink Pearl are going through. Steven's desperation to fix everything and avoid his own pain is causing him to hurt the very people he wants to help. Pink Pearl's attempts to downplay and focus on pleasing those around her have left her unable to truly see the distress of others. This also ties into why each character needs to break away from their own perspective in this episode. Not only can their survival strategies no longer hold, they are also hurting themselves and each other in the process.
Right away, the episode opens with a sequence of Steven healing the cracks of gems, while dressing up as a doctor.
(It's later revealed in "Snow Day" that this is the Kiss-It-Better clinic, where gems can go to Steven to fix the cracks on their gemstones)
This scene not only establishes how Steven has built his entire identity over being able to "fix" everything, it also shows how he unintentionally dehumanizes himself and others. By viewing himself in this way, Steven sees himself more as a tool whose only purpose is to solve others' problems, and others as the ones who only recieve his help, and not as those who can help him out too. Also, this sequence of Steven healing the cracks on gems presents the conflict of the episode, he doesn't know how to address internal wounds (which take a longer time to process and heal from), only external wounds (ones that have a quick and simple fix through his powers).
Pink Pearl's arrival after Steven heal the cracked quartzes serves to both demonstrate and challenge this idea, showing up on Steven's porch after hearing he could help her with the scar on her face.
(However, as the episode goes on, it's revealed that Pink Pearl is suffering through the same issue Steven is: A sense of self-worth that is tied to pleasing and trying to be perfect for others, even if it means undervaluing her own struggles.)
After Steven's first two initial attempts to heal the crack prove ineffective, he immediately goes to test his healing powers on a nearby bouquet to see if they still work.
This moment also shows how fragile Steven's identity has gotten by this point. Because he now sees himself as only a fixer, and not a person anymore, anything that challenges that notion would begin to unravel him since he doesn't believe he has any purpose or identity outside of this now self-imposed role.
Since Steven's can't use his healing power on Pink Pearl, he tries to find out how she was even scarred to begin with. He automatically assumes White Diamond must've done something to her (because at this point, he sees White as solely a villain, an external threat, someone to easily blame rather than the gem that shaped the entire system and toxic conditioning Steven and the gems (including his mother) have in the first place. Thus, it would be easier to accept her as the one to blame). However, when she reveals Pink Diamond was the one that had caused the scar, Steven (now in a state of panic) begins to glow pink, and Pink Pearl, who had been talking about her pain in a dismissive sort of way gasps in shock. This passage from Maya Petersen further explains, Pink Pearl's psychological state in the episode:
"The damage to Volley (or Pink Pearl) was accidental, but the pattern of behavior was something [Pink Diamond] consciously chose to repeat. You ever, like, live in daily fear of someone whose anger is really destructive? Maybe they haven’t attacked you in a long time - maybe they haven’t even directed their rage at you directly yet - but they yell and break enough stuff in your vicinity on a regular basis. Eventually, that perpetual state of alarm your body and mind are in, wondering when they’re eventually gonna come for you or hurt someone else, can take a psychosomatic toll."
In this moment, (while Steven was already not seeing other gems as those with own agency) both of them can no longer see each other as anything other than a projection of their own struggles.
(This ties into the theme of being trapped in your own perspective and not seeing others or yourself. Steven and Pink Pearl not only fail to see each other, but also fail to see themselves as people in pain). This idea is further compounded by their responses to each other immediately after this moment. While Pink Pearl tries to comfort Steven, and in a sense, try to keep him from being too stressed out (which would guarantee her safety), Steven shifts the focus back to her, now completely determined to fix her scar (which is his attempt to not only prove he can, but also how he's now incapable of just letting pain exist without opting to try and "fix" it, be it others' or his own, especially if it concerns his mother). And all this shows how both characters are now viewing each other only through a lens of what will help themselves, not selfishly, or apathetically, but out of fear.
Since both are too caught up in their own fears, they don't realize that what they're doing is only going to cause further harm not only to each other, but also themselves. And the transition to the beach where the titular game is being held shows that they won't be the only characters to not fully see each other or themselves.
As soon as Pearl notices the two, especially Pink Pearl, her response, is to percieve Pink Pearl as a threat. Not an actual one, but as a threat to what she believes to be true about herself, just like Steven (although both are doing this unconsciously rather than conciously acting on that perception), in this case, Pearl views Pink Pearl's presence as confirmation of the idea that she wasn’t the only Pearl to Pink Diamond, and therefore wasn't anymore special to than Pink Pearl. Due to this, the first thing that pops into Pearl's mind upon seeing Pink Pearl is to compete to prove she was special to Pink Diamond, losing sight of the help Pink Pearl (and Steven) need.
Though, like them, she tries to hide this under the guise of referring to the volleyball tournament, and deflecting to the dilemma that has been brought up: Steven's self-appointed mission to heal Pink Pearl's scar.
Before getting into that, Steven struggles when it comes to introducing the Pearls to each other due to how both of them are known as "Pearl" and suggests that they should give Pink Pearl a nickname to avoid confusion. When he suggests this however, Pink Pearl is reminded of her former diamond, again showing how she's seeing Pink Diamond reflected in Steven, though she means both the negative and positive aspects. (this also showcases how Pink Pearl is latching onto an incomplete interpretation of Pink Diamond, as the latter appears in silhouette rather than in her physical appearance).
This is further compounded when she tells Steven that he's just like Pink Diamond after he nicknames her "Volleyball (which Pearl snickers at).
Speaking of nicknaming Pink Pearl "Volleyball," this again, is due to Steven's problem of wanting to rush straight to the "solution," not wanting to stop to process anything, even for a moment. He chooses "Volleyball" as nickname simply because one hits him in the head, showing how it's given without any thought put to the matter. This scene also helps showcase how Steven doesn't realize his mindset is doing more harm than good, as he (without even realizing it) unintentionally named Pink Pearl after her situation with Pink and White Diamond (two Diamonds that hurt Pink Pearl due to being so focused on themselves to consider the impact they had on her, which can also describe Steven's own dynamic with Pink Pearl as well).
Going back to Pink Pearl telling Steven he's just like Pink Diamond and him denying it, it again showcases the flaws of both characters at the same time, and how neither are truly seeing each other or their problems. Pink Pearl is too caught up in her nostalgia of Pink Diamond to consider that she might be triggering Steven's identity crisis and fear of repeating his mother's mistakes, and Steven is too caught up in trying to rush a "solution" to Pink Pearl's scar that he brushes past how uncomfortable that comparison makes him feel and goes right into why he and Pink Pearl came to Pearl in the first place, not realizing that feelings of discomfort or fear are healthy to express.
Though, after Pearl assumes White Diamond was the cause for the scar (much like Steven had done earlier, which also showcases that much like with Steven, blaming White Diamond for causing harm like that is easier because both still see her as a villain and the source of harm (which White technically is), but becomes much harder to accept that Pink Diamond, someone who both know was capable of harm, but ultimately wanted to be different from the Diamonds, could leave lasting damage like that.), Steven glows pink for the second time in the episode, because he knows for a fact that Pink Diamond was the one that did it. During this moment, Pearl expresses concern for Steven, much like Pink Pearl had tried to do earlier. Even more telling is the fact that Steven only appears to come to himself after one of the uncorrupted quartzes goes flying across the area, which may either indicate how it's becoming harder to pull him out of this state, or that his pain is only growing to the point of overtaking him the longer he continues to suppress it.
Even after this, Steven is still determined to brush past it and jump into "fixing" Pink Pearl as he believes that's what will make everything better, a sentiment which he echoes later on in The Reef, though now, Steven is more noticeably agitated and frantic, which already shows how his attempts to keep himself together are failing, even before his breakdown in the Care Center.
Though, before heading to the Reef once it's brought up, Pearl and Pink Pearl have a passive aggressive exchange with each other, showing how they are each starting to have a breakdown of their own as well, which they do in front of Steven. Already showing how they've come to see each other not as Pearls who were hurt by the same Diamond, but as rivals who must compete to prove who knew Pink Diamond (which will later devolve into who's traumatic experience and pain from Pink Diamond is more real), and how they don't see how the impact of their actions on Steven would further drive him to assume that going going to the Reef and "fixing" their pain and his own is going to make everything better.
As soon as the group arrives at the the Reef, Steven does take a moment to inquire about it being the place where Pearls are made. Though, after Pink Pearl mentions how it served as a place to refurbish and repair Pearls, Steven jumps back into "fixer" mode and goes to activate the Reef without a second thought upon hearing the word "repair." This creates a particular problem though, Steven is latching onto the idea that the Reef could "fix" Pink Pearl's scar like it's a lifeline to grap onto (because to Steven it is. "fixing" her is what Steven believes is going to fix himself, again showing how he views pain of any kind as a problem to be solved, not something to embrace or sit with (which the audience will get hints as to why that is the case even though the characters, including Steven himself, won't)), again not stopping to consider that he's activating the very system that hurt them all in the first place.
This moment also hints at the Pearls' passive aggressive rivalry as well since both of them explain to Steven their knowledge on the Reef (which Pearls seem to pride themselves on, being the gems who can serve as informational guides to others, especially their superiors), not stopping to ask if whether they should actually use it, or even if it can actually help due to being so caught up in their rivalry, much like how Steven is caught up his idea of what healing should look like to pause, which is going to in be what nearly does them all in as the episode goes on (so really, no one wants to take a moment to pause and assess the situation they're walking into).
As soon as Steven activates the system, it initially recognizes him as Pink Diamond due to Steven being the current possessor of her gemstone. Steven, visibly uncomfortable by this, corrects it by telling it his real name. This is done not only because Steven's annoyed by the comparison, but again, he doesn't want to think of himself as someone who could cause the kind of damage Pink Diamond did. (It also foreshadows very early on, that it can't really help the group with their problems, be it Pink Pearl's scar, the Pearls' rivalry, or Steven's identity crisis. Only they can help themselves because the Reef was built for cosmetic fixes, not addressing psychological problems).
After the correction, the system introduces itself as Shell (an AI designed to guide higher ranking gems and the Pearls through the Reef. After Steven explains that the group had come in search of a solution to Pink Pearl's scar, which Steven refers to as a crack, Shell guides them towards the direction of the Care Center.
Before going in, Pink Pearl (again trying to keep Steven from being too stressed out and not wanting to impose a burden on him, due to how gems, Pearls especially, are supposed to be selflessly devoted to their superiors, which both she and Shell see Steven as), downplays her own pain, calling it a trivial concern Steven shouldn't have to waste his time with. However, Steven (still wanting to prove to himself that he can fix anything and again showing his unwillingness to let pain be, be it his own or others) tells her that it's not trivial and that they will soon be able to put the past behind them, showing how he still believes that this is going to make them feel better.
However, the fact that Pearl takes Pink Pearl's hand and condescendingly tells the latter that she'll be holding it as soon as Steven heads in, as if Pink Pearl hadn't already expressed that she's older than Pearl, and the fact that Steven and Pink Pearl have this exchange at all already shows again that this approach was never going to actually to help anyone, not the Pearls, not even Steven himself. (It should be noted that at this point, all three of them are now clinging onto the roles they believe they still need in order to cope. Steven as the fixer, Pink Pearl as the pleaser, and Pearl as the superior one, which also reveals another reason why no one can really connect with each other in this moment. They are all, in a way, putting an emotional barrier between each other out of fear that is disguised as selflessness).
As the three head into the Reef. Pink Pearl wanders off to explore the accessories on display. Meanwhile, Steven asks Pearl if she has any nostalgic feelings of her own, which she denies not only out of discomfort, but out of fear of vulnerability, which Steven also tries to do by inquiring of Pearl's feelings about being in the Reef rather than questioning that maybe they're not on the same page as each other as they would like to think. Which is further visualized as both Pearls briefly separate from Steven during this scene.
The Pearls' rivalry, as well as everyone's coping strategies, intensify as Pink Pearl's attention is drawn to a ribbon wand Pearl notices in the scene. Upon seeing it, Pink Pearl summons her own and reveals it as gift from Pink Diamond. She then asks Pearl what Pink Diamond gave her, likely as a point of comparison or to point out how Pink Diamond never gave Pearl anything like that (it also showcases, much like Pearl and Steven, Pink Pearl is also looking for validation that the type love she recieved from others in the past wasn't transcational on what she could do). Visibly annoyed by this and still trying to come across as the superior pearl, Pearl tries to snatch it out of Pink Pearl's hand saying that there's no need to hold onto things like that. Meanwhile, Steven, still trying to maintain his self-imposed role as the fixer and not wanting to sit with this discomfort (again locked into the mindset of fix instead of feel), walks up and asks if they can just go on into the Care Center. Speaking of the aforementioned part of Pink Pearl struggling to be seen as who she really is and masking it behind a performative role, Steven and Pearl, struggle with the same issue, but the reason none drop their defenses is because they believe they're alone in the struggle, further showcasing how the inability to see each other is becoming a prison that's trapping them into assuming they have to keep playing their parts in order to survive with each other.
Pearl agrees, not only because she's fed up with being in the Reef, calling a "circus of objectification," but also calling attention to how suffocating playing their roles have become without realizing it. Believing that if they just get the situation over with, everything will be over soon, not realizing they don't have to keep playing their roles to begin with, only that they think they do, calling attention to why the episode is called "Volleyball" in the first place, aside from Steven nicknaming Pink Pearl that. Steven and the Pearls are playing this metaphorical game with each other, thinking that one of them has to win out in the end in order to survive (also deconstructing the game in the first place since it requires teamwork to win) when what they really need is to stop playing altogether.
As Steven and Pink Pearl move to follow Pearl into the Care Center, their facial expressions change from genuine glances to performative smiles. This calls back to their interaction at the beginning which called back to why Steven wanted to "fix" Pink Pearl in the first place, they can't see each other as anything other than a projection of their own internal struggles. Steven still sees Pink Pearl's scar as everything he fears about himself (he can't fix everything, maybe he's not enough on his own if he can't, and he's not so different from his mother as he would like to believe). Meanwhile, Pink Pearl still sees Steven as a reflection of everything she adores and fears about Pink Diamond (seeing Pink Diamond's powers, her knack of nicknaming things, and her volatile emotions in him). What neither realizes is that this is going to build to a point where it will be made undeniably clear that they were never truly seeing each other at all.
The group finally arrives at the Care Center to complete their objective of "fixing" Pink Pearl's scar, and this is where everything that has been building up during the episode (the Pearls' rivalry, the groups' collective coping strategies by playing their roles, this game between them, their collective inability to pause and assess the situation they're walking into, their need to a rush a solution, and the inability to truly see other or themselves) comes to a head.
To start off, as soon as Pink Pearl steps on the platform in the center of the room and the system scans her, Shell tells them there's nothing she can do to help with Pink Pearl's scar. The moment begins to unravel Steven as he tries to protest in desperation, pointing how Shell explained that she could fix any Pearl. However, Shell goes on to explain that Pink Pearl's problem isn't a physical ailment, but rather a symptom of psychosomatic trauma (as in mental harm manifested as a physical scar).
Pink Pearl's reaction switching from confused to devasted shows how much like Steven (and very soon after this, Pearl), Pink Pearl doesn't want to accept that Pink Diamond left lasting damage on her psyche. This is further demonstrated when she turns towards Steven and Pearl and insists that she's fine. However, as she does so more cracks spread on her face, making it clear that she's not.
As this happens, Pearl, repeating her assumption that White Diamond was responsible for scarring Pink Pearl, wonders aloud how she could be so careless when it came to Pink Pearl being damaged. However, when Pink Pearl tells Pearl Pink Diamond hurt, Pearl in a state of disbelief approaches Pink Pearl to confront the latter on what she just said, leaving Steven alone on the side of the room while Steven himself (still in fixer mode) tries to stop Pearl, and it's at this moment where all three characters begin to unconsciously mirror the very dynamic that caused Pink Pearl to be scarred in the first place.
Pink Pearl: It's a funny story, really. Once, Pink got tired of asking Yellow and Blue for her own colony, so she went straight to White. Of course, White told her she wasn't fit to run one, and, well, that set her off.
To fully understand this dialogue, it's worth taking into account that Pink Diamond's constant requests and pestering the other Diamonds for a colony wasn't because she was entitled or even that she really wanted a colony, rather it was her way of articulating that what she really wanted was to be treated like she was an equal among the other three Diamonds, which both she and they never understood as such, especially White Diamond (who viewed Pink Diamond as nothing more than a tantrum throwing child). When White told Pink Diamond she wasn't fit to run a colony, it was because White genuinely believed that to be the case rather than it being cruelty for its own sake, as the problem with White Diamond is that she believes her perspective on reality is the only correct one. As such, she never stopped to consider how she came across to Pink Diamond when she said that.
The reason to bring this up is because this is exactly what occurs throughout the scene, once again someone assumes that wanting something external is going to fix their internal problems and focus so much on that and themselves that they inadvertently hurt someone in the process: in this case Steven assumes if he can just fix everything concerning his mother for the Pearls, he'll not only prove to himself that he is different, but also how he'll be shown as the perfect savior for them due to having ridden himself and them of their pain. However, what he really needs is to seen for how flawed and vulnerable he really is and know that he doesn't have to perfect to be worthy of their loved (nor does he have to try to fix their problems for them). Meanwhile, once again, the elders in the situation ignore what the younger figure is really trying to express due to focusing on their own problems, and not seeing them. In this case: the Pearls ignore Steven to argue about whose experience with Pink Diamond was more valid or more true. (The reverse can also apply where what each of the Pearls really want is to prove their pain was valid and externalize that desire through the argument they have, but Steven, caught up in the desire to help everyone stop hurting, unintentionally invalidates their experiences and pain, as well as his own, with the promise of fixing it due to taking that desire to an unhealthy extreme.)
Another thing to bring up about this scene is, given the insight from Maya Petersen that Pink Diamond vented her emotions in a destructive way around Pink Pearl on a regular basis and Pink Pearl's own description of Pink Diamond doing so as well, Pink Pearl may been a lot like Steven himself. She, like him, may have tried to maintain this image of being fine around Pink Diamond and prioritized her feelings out of combination of a genuine desire to please her former Diamond and also, again, because it's what gems (Pearls especially) are expected to do for their superiors. The scenario Pink Pearl's describing may been the last time Pink Diamond reacted in a such a destructive way because that was the point where she could no longer keep up the facade of being fine since her physical form could no longer take internalizing her struggles for others no matter how much Pink Pearl wanted to do so (again, much like Steven himself will showcase seconds after this). This is also shown with the way the scar or the "crack" spreads throughout this scene as she talks about her story.
Altogether, this scene is a warning of what happens when people fail to consider the impact their actions have on others due to focusing on their intentions. (Steven's intention to fix is causing him to invalidate the Pearls' pain without realizing it, Pearl's intention to defend Pink Diamond are causing her to ignore the suffering Steven and Pink Pearl are currently experiencing, and Pink Pearl's intention to paint a rose-tinted version of Pink Diamond is causing her to ignore the uglier parts of who her Diamond was, which is why Steven and Pearl are greatly distressed in this scene). There is also a warning to be had if one assumes their perspective defines reality without taking into account that one is not an informed as they like to think they are (Steven sees every new piece of information he learns about Pink Diamond as a reason to prove he's better than her, Pearl sees the fact that Pink Diamond wanted to be different than the other Diamonds a reason to defend her against what she assumes are Pink Pearl's accusations, and Pink Pearl herself sees the fact that Pink Diamond didn't intend to hurt her as a reason to deny how she never felt safe around her Diamond during her own outbursts, and altogether, everyone's own perspectives of Pink Diamond are causing them to deny the equally valid parts of her that the other brings up).
Steven, overwhelmed not only by the conflicting narratives of his mother the Pearls have, but also by his own pain, which he's been ignoring and trying to suppress up until this point, begins to glow pink for the third time during this episode. This is also the ultimate embodiment of the idea of what it means to be trapped in your own perspective in addition to it being a trauma response: You can't see others clearly and you can't even see yourself clearly anymore. In this case, Steven has internalized the Pearls' perspective of his mother, not as a fragmented version of their experiences, but as an indictment of him since he doesn't understand they're fragmented and during this scene the only thing Steven can focus on is his intense overwhelming need to make the pain stop, and is now trying to force a fix to the situation, which ultimately explains why he wanted to "fix" Pink Pearl in the first place (aside from genuinely wanting to). Steven believed if he did so, it would also "fix" his own identity crisis (going back to the idea where he believes something external is going to fix internal problems, much like how his mother thought having a colony would fix hers).
This is also the culmination of the "game" Steven and the Pearls have been playing with each other up until this point. The argument itself was the Pearls' way of trying to have one of their perspectives win out to hold onto their version of Pink Diamond, while Steven's breakdown and drive to "fix" everything in this scene is his way of trying to have his perspective win out to not only prove he's not like Pink Diamond, but that he's ultimately better than her.
However, after everything explodes (both literally and metaphorically), everyone is forced to come to terms with the truth that not only do none of them fully understand who Pink Diamond was or even the fact their experiences are filtered through their unresolved emotions about her, their actions have caused them to hurt each other without intending to, much like how Pink Diamond had done to Pink Pearl in the first place.
Furthermore in this context (going back to what each character hoped to happen through their actions), this is also moment where Steven and the Pearls lose the "game" they've been playing up until this point.
Something I forgot to mention is that during the breakdown scene, there is a disconnect between Steven's intentions and the reality of his actions. What I mean by this is that, while Steven is focused on trying to stop the pain by whatever means necessary to (because he sees himself as the one who can bring resolution), his body glowing pink and causing him to shout and destroy the room during this scene is meant to showcase his lack of self-awareness to the harm he's really causing due to failing to realize his own subjectivity.
Steven Universe Future: Volleyball (Monkey Morality Pose) Revisited (Part 2)
This post continues where Part 1 left off.
However, it's also at this moment where everyone's inability to assess the situation they were walking into comes back to haunt them, as they had unconsciously been slipping into the roles defined for them by gem society. Steven, by leading the mission to "fix" Pink Pearl and pushing his idea of what healing "should" look like on them had been slipping into the role of a Diamond (in fact an unused storyboard for this episode showed Steven with Diamond-shaped pupils in his eyes during the earlier breakdown scene). And the Pearls, by going along with what Steven says and their rivalry to prove who was the better Pearl to Pink Diamond through him had slipped back into their roles of servitude.
Therefore, when Shell decides to rejuvenate the Pearls in response to picking up on this, it's meant to showcase the ultimate act of erasure, where Steven, "the Diamond," can get the outcome he wants by controlling their healing process, and the Pearls go back to blindly obeying their superior without free-will for themselves.
This moment highlights one of the core messages of the episode, true healing can only come when the characters decide to help themselves, not through relying on external factors (like trying to "fix" someone else, or trusting someone else, or a system to do so for you).
Steven: No, no, no, no! What have I done? *bangs on the shells* Shell, stop it!
This line from Steven shows both his recognition and flaws at the same time. He realizes that he became exactly what he feared during this episode (someone whose attempt to help have only made things worse in addition to emulating similar traits to his mother). Though, in a way, he is still acting like a Diamond (or the sole savior) trying to resolve the predicament himself (because still he thinks he has to to have any reason to be accepted or to accept himself) and trying to command Shell to stop (which is only met by her twistedly reassuring him that "his Pearls" would be better than new once the process is finished), only now he's completely powerless to do anything, another fear of his that became reality through his own actions.
In addition to this, during this scene, the Pearls become the first of the group to begin the realization that healing begins from within yourself, not by relying on others, which starts with Pearl apologizing and admitting that she didn't understand Pink Diamond as well as she thought she did to Pink Pearl, and Pink Pearl herself finally admitting that she was hurt by Pink Diamond even if she knows it wasn't the latter's intent to do so. Pink Pearl's admission also begins to open Steven up to the possibility that everyone's perceptions of Pink Diamond are filtered through their emotions about her and there is no "right" or simple version of her, even though he still remains trapped in the belief that he has to get rid of the pain (or the parts of himself he dislikes) in order to feel better (or again to accept himself or to be accepted). This is because he's thinking in terms of absolutes where he not only has to be the "good" version of Pink Diamond, he now has to come to view pain of any kind as something to be eradicated due to solely seeing it as a bad thing so when Pink Pearl admits she was badly hurt, he sees it as a problem instead of the beginning of growth.
Pink Pearl's question to Pearl after her own confession reveals she is also trapped in the belief of thinking pain is something to be gotten rid of, as she asks Pearl how she was able to stop hurting. However, Pearl hugging Pink Pearl and admitting she didn't opens Pink Pearl up to the possibility that she doesn't have to be "fixed" in order to be seen for who she is as she hugs Pearl back, showing how she's beginning to accept herself, cracks and all.
It's at this moment both Pearls fuse into Mega Pearl, a character that embodies their clarity, shared pain, and merging of their perspectives to gain a better understanding of themselves and each other, and in doing so, break out of the rejuvenation chamber showing how they're no longer allowing themselves to defined by external factors or rigid binaries, but through themselves and embracing complexity.
Throughout this scene, while Mega Pearl does most of the heavy-lifting when it comes to escaping the Reef, Steven himself gets an opportunity to contribute as well when she gets tangled in the Reef's defenses and trusts Steven to be able to shut down the facility.
After tossing Steven through the Reef's defenses, Steven pulls off some impressive skills of his own, as he uses his shield to surf to the control panel and finally shut down the Reef.
The glances Steven and Mega Pearl share after they succeed in shutting down the Reef not only shows the relief of both parties, but the consequences of both their ideas of what help means as well (which will be further touched on in their last exchange in this episode) the ideas of believing you have to carry everything yourself vs. sharing that burden with others.
Steven: ... I'm so sorry. The whole trip was for nothing.
This dialogue from Steven shows how he's still trapped in his own perspective, even as he begins to realize the truth. What Steven means by "the whole trip was for nothing" is that he believed wanting to "fix" Pink Pearl (or rather push his own idea of a solution onto her) was objectively correct, that he was the one who could end the cycle of abuse. Now that he sees it was a subjective need all along, he can't justify it as being for her good. However, he interprets the fact that he now knows his goal was not in line with reality as a negative, believing he needs to be an arbiter of objective truth.
Steven being blind to his own subjectivity, confusing it for an objective truth is the core trait showcased by the Diamonds, which was how they justified their actions in the first place: as themselves being able to see reality as it is, and their actions as aligning others to it (especially White Diamond), figures Steven is desperate not be anything like, but whose traits he ends up emulating anyway, so it's not just Pink Diamond whose traits he emulates, by those of the other Diamonds as well.
Mega Pearl: No, it wasn't for nothing. Your mother's Pearls never had the whole picture. One knew your mother was trying to change, but she couldn't understand why. The other never expected her to change at all. Now, I get to understand everything. Now, they finally get to have each other.
Mega Pearl reveals that the struggles of both her components wasn't just that they were hurt by the same Diamond, but how they were also trapped in their individual perspectives and the notion that Pink Diamond could only be one thing, causing the rift between them which was seen in the episode and the idea that they had to guard themselves under their performative roles and outdo each other in order to survive. But, through Steven's attempts to help (however flawed they were), both Pearls finally see each other, not as rivals where one of them must be wrong, but as themselves flaws and all, who didn't need to be "fixed" in order to achieve that.
It also shows how the Pearls acknowledge their individual personhood. By acknowledging their experiences and perspectives, they begin to show Steven how his interpretation is not rooted in fact, but is rather distorted through the lens of the fixer role he believed he had to play, they also model a type of healing Steven can't provide himself at the time, to be able to see the realization one's own subjectivity and the notion of one's perspective as an opportunity for growth rather than something to avoid.
Other things to point out about this scene as that when the Pearls unfuse, Pearl is holding Pink Pearl's hand, a callback to an exchange in the episode. When Pearl offers to hold Pink Pearl's hand, she does so as an attempt to belittle and diminish Pink Pearl. However, here, they do so genuinely. There is also the fact that Pink Pearl is standing in between Pearl and Steven, another callback to earlier in the episode as both initially saw her as a threat to what they believed to be true about themselves, so by the end, they not only accept her, they also accept that the identities they were holding onto further isolated them from each other.
In the final shot of the episode, the Pearls and Steven stare out into the night's sky, while remaining a good distance away from each other. This is meant to show the while the Pearls have acknowledged their own subjectivity and grown closer because of that, Steven is shattered in a metaphorical sense due to the realization of his own. To him, his identity depends on being objective, or standing outside the conflict, once he realizes he's not, he's left with the realization that he has the potential to cause harm. However, witnessing the Pearls reconciliation him a glimpse into the idea of that what is truly needed to heal isn't for someone to be an arbiter of truth, but to share in the realization that no one is, and that’s not a bad thing.
One last thing to point out is that the volleyball nets have been left behind, calling attention to the "game" Steven and the Pearls were playing with each other to have one their perspectives win out. Not only did they all lose that game, but because they did they realized didn't have to have one of their perspectives win in order to survive or needed to survive at all, they needed to acknowledge that none of them have a full understanding of Pink Diamond or how to truly help themselves, and in doing so, they end this game between each other.
Altogether, I believe this episode not only portrays how hard it is when it comes to accepting difficult truths about ourselves and others, it also serves to challenge what we believe to be true about ourselves and how, even though said challenge may be painful, it is ultimately, all the more freeing.
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