RETROSPECT: "Cowabunga!" or, The Enduring Popularity (and Guilty Pleasure) of "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles"

If you grew up like I did in the late Eighties and early Nineties, you probably watched a lot of Saturday morning cartoons. On one hand, you had your Disney shows like Ducktales and Goof Troop. You also had your Looney Tunes cartoons, starring Bugs Bunny and the Road Runner. And, of course, you had your superhero shows, ranging from epic (Batman: The Animated Series and X-Men, anyone?) to silly-but-fun (Darkwing Duck was a winner). Many (if not all) of these shows, in fact, featured anthropomorphic animal characters, which always suits kids just fine.

And then there was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a series about four anthropomorphic ninja-fighting, pizza-loving amphibians. What most people forget, perhaps, is that this series didn't start out as a cartoon, but as a comic-book. I've always been a fan of these "heroes in a half shell" since my childhood, and my older brother and I even dressed as two of them for Halloween when we were little kids.

So, in light of their first inception thirty-five years ago this year (and twenty years next year since the first live-action movie from 1990 released), I've been thinking about how it is that these characters (created by artists Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird in 1984) continue to endure in popular culture via cartoons (the 80s T.V. series, with its catchy theme song), toys, t-shirts, movies (live-action in the early 90s and currently in the 2010s, with a reboot in development), and even a ride at Nickelodeon Universe at Minnesota's Mall of America.

For those of you who don't know the backstory: four pet turtles are infected by a green ooze and mutated into life-sized characters. Not only that, their master is a life-sized rat named Splinter (a former pet himself, whose owner was a skilled fighter as well), and their adversaries include the metal-wearing warrior known as Shredder, mutant henchmen Bebop (a warthog) and Rocksteady (a rhino), and a giant alien brain, aptly named Krane. Their allies include hockey jock Casey Jones and news reporter April O'Neal, while their influences range from various forms of popular culture, including surfer slang. Hence, the famous catchphrase, "Cowabunga, dude!"

Okay, with that kind of a concept, it would be easy for many critics and consumers to scoff and laugh. It's also easy to separate various types of films, TV shows, music formats, and pop cult phenomenons into one of two categories: those that are made for the industry, and those that are made for the general public. Turtles, for the most part, falls into this latter category. But remember, Stan Lee's Marvel superheroes, outside their respective fanbases, were never considered anything being brilliant until years later.

On the other hand, when considering the influences that Eastman and Laird used, the backstory and appeal of the Turtles (as ridiculous and absurd as it sounds) is quite fascinating. (Watch the above video.) Here, you have two guys who were passionate about and influenced by comics, martial arts, the films of Bruce Lee, the work of comic-book artist Jack Kirby, and the like. Along with that creative freedom, consider that each of the turtles are named after famous Renaissance artists: Leonardo (Leo), Donatello (Donnie), Raphael (Raph), and Michaelangelo (Mikey). They're each color-coordinated (blue, purple, red, and orange, respectfully), and each have clearly distinct personalities and traits: Leo is the fearless leader, who carries katanas; Donnie is the brain, who carries a bo (staff); Raph is the rebel with attitude, who carries a pair of sai; and Mickey is the cool one, who carries nunchucks. Even the series title (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) and, again, cartoon theme song has a nice ring to it.

Prior to the Turtles' live-action film debut, movies based on comic-books were still in their relative infancy at the time. With the exception of DC's initial successes with Superman (1978) and Batman (1989), almost nobody in Hollywood believed a film about "ninja turtles" would be successful. However, a then-small studio called New Line Cinema (known for distributing B-level horror films like 1984's A Nightmare on Elm Street) agreed to distribute the film, while Golden Harvest (a company responsible for introducing American audiences to Bruce Lee movies and other arthouse-related films) produced, and Steve Barron (a filmmaker behind the pilot episode of Jim Henson's T.V. series The Storyteller, as well as music videos for A-ha's "Take on Me" and Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean") directed.

Perhaps the greatest contributors to the film's success (and to helping make it the highest-grossing independent film at the time), however, were the crew members and special effects artists of Jim Henson's Creature Shop, who supplied state-of-the-art animatronic puppets and effects for the turtles and for Splinter, in particular. The result, for the most part, holds up remarkably well today. Plus, as a fanboy, the film has impressive fight choreography and one of the most exciting (and best) trailers ever made, no question.

The titular heroes of the 1990 live-action blockbuster

While not really a film for young children, due to its dark and violent nature, the film took its primary inspiration from the original source material (i.e., dark atmosphere, fierce action), while balancing some elements of comedy from the cartoon series along with some surprising drama. On that note, the film (like the mythology and universal appeal of the characters) contrasts a misguided sense of family (i.e., misunderstood teenage boys pulled into the influence and lure of Shredder) with a genuine sense of family (i.e., Splinter's teachings and skill passed onto his adopted "children," as well as unexpected allies in April and Casey).

In the end, this is a franchise made for the masses, not for the industry. Personally speaking, the fact that turtles are some of my favorite animals, and that these characters love pizza (as do I) is pretty amazing. Moreover, the Turtles, in a way, represent that thrill that my generation had at being children, and that thrill that still exists in us as adults--that you're never too old for cartoons, comic books, popcorn movies, or anthropomorphic animal characters. As our friend Mikey, once again, would say, "Cowabunga, dudes!"