So, who’s ready for more Dungeons and Dragons?
I’m going to kick this analysis off by warning my audience members that aren’t Morgan Leckie (hello again!) that this will be full of spoilers. If you’ve had any interest in watching the McElroy family’s podcast The Adventure Zone, then you might not want to read this analysis, because it’s brimming with spoilers. If you’re a person who doesn’t read introductions to rhetorical analyses, then this is probably a very unlucky day for you. But hopefully, you read this paragraph, and you know that—again—there are huge spoilers coming ahead, so do NOT read this analysis if you don’t want the ending of the show spoiled!
We good? Good. So begins my rhetorical analysis of a specific event in The Adventure Zone. For the uninitiated, this podcast is a collaborative story-via-Dungeons and Dragons told by my favorite podcasters—the McElroy Brothers (and their father Clint). The show stars Travis McElroy as human fighter Magnus Burnsides, Justin McElroy as elven wizard Taako (pronounced taco), Clint McElroy as dwarven cleric Merle Highchurch, and Griffin McElroy as the dungeon master (so, literally everyone else). A great deal happens in the show, including Mad Max-style desert races, tragic backstories, and hundred-year-long journeys. I won’t get into all that, but if you’ve got a lot of time on your hands (give or take eighty hours) then I definitely recommend listening to this podcast all the way from episode one. But for this particular analysis, we’ll be looking into a very serious and satisfying moment in the series: the peaceful death of beloved protector and ruff boi (that is how you spell it) Magnus Burnsides. I chose this event specifically because it carries a great deal of weight in the show, and does well to showcase the improvisational nature of the McElroy’s podcasts, even when they branch off into fiction. You can find the specific scene wonderfully animated YouTube artist William Chong here, but take note that for this, I’m just using the audio.
A little more context—in rhetorical terms, I’m giving some reasoning as to why this section is an appeal to emotion (AKA pathos). First, you should know that Magnus has just passed on to the astral plane, where, in the canon of The Adventure Zone, all souls travel to after death. As for Kravitz, who makes a very brief appearance in the scene, his job is to usher souls peacefully into the astral plane; he’s essentially our idea of a less-grim Grim Reaper. By this point in the series, he’s made appearances in several different parts of the story, and is, in fact, dating Taako, our favorite wizard. There’s a lot to it, but that’s about all you need to know for this scene outside of Magnus.
As for Magnus, he’s one of our beloved main characters, and has a notoriously tragic backstory in the series: a vengeful rival murdered our hero’s new bride and father-in-law. In this clip, however, Magnus and we are finally given closure, and he is reunited with his wife after years of adventuring and not quite caring whether he lives or dies. This gung-ho attitude actually ties into the more mechanical, nitty-gritty parts of the game, as Magnus’ fighting style is protection; basically, his role in combat is to make hitting others harder, and hitting himself easier. So, this scene, in which Magnus dies peacefully, surrounded by the beloved characters we’ve gotten to know throughout the series is a marker of growth. Instead of dying violently as he expected, Magnus got to live a long, storied life—as his wife Julia jokes, “You lived much so much longer than I thought you were going to.” The writing here, as it is through the whole series, flawlessly fits the situation around it.
So, let’s get a little deeper into the situation. Particularly, I want to talk about the auditory tools the McElroys (well, mostly Griffin, who does all of the editing and narration) employ to tell such a heavy story. For a little over a minute and a half of this clip, we’re just given Griffin’s narration and some sparse acting from Travis. This a cappella narration, if you will, is no less moving than any other part of the piece. In fact, listening to this scene for the first time, I found myself crying. And now, a little more detached from the situation, I know it’s because of all the work put into the making of this series. This clip is from the show’s sixty-ninth episode, with each one lasting between one and two hours. The episodes themselves are long, but it’s Griffin’s narration—his descriptions, his action, his character dialogue—that keeps things moving smoothly. As for the acting in this clip, I think there’s a lot more to be said.
Throughout the series, one source of humor was that none of the actors/players/family members would use consistent character voices, with the exception of Justin, whose voice for Taako was an aristocratic, almost condescending falsetto. However, Magnus’ gravelly, can-do voice was present throughout most of the series, and of course, in this scene. This voice, subtle, but distinct from Travis’ own voice, is important to note because it lets us know when the podcaster is stepping into his character’s shoes, not just acting but playing the role he took on in the series’ beginning. And, the fact that Travis stays in character throughout the entire scene also says a great deal about Griffin’s narrative skills. (Side note: in a post-finale discussion with the other cast members, ingeniously named The “The Adventure Zone” Zone, Travis did admit to crying here. Again, I can say the exact same thing)
There’s one final thing I’d like to bring up, and that’s the music Griffin used in the scene. The song, titled “Julia” is actually by another artist, Reeder. I thought the music was worth bringing up for a few reasons. First, it just fits the scene so well. We certainly don’t get a sense of finality here, rather that of a new beginning. The steady waltz carries us forward through some pensive melodies, and perhaps downwards into some darker variations on that melody, but always ending on that lighter note, and always forward with that pleasant rhythm. And second, it’s one of the few Times Griffin actually employs music other than his own in the series. True, the theme song throughout is a Mort Garson track titled “Deja Vu” and some other artists’ music makes appearances throughout the series, but for the most part, Griffin chooses to compose his own music for the series. His use of other music, I think, serves as a nod to others’ work, and a reminder that all good creators reach outside themselves for inspiration. And, of course, it always helps your story move forward to have some music helping it along.
This is about all I have to say regarding the McElroy’s rhetorical techniques in The Adventure Zone. There’s a lot of pathos, which I think is to be expected in fiction. But if you find yourself with some extra time on your hands, I absolutely recommend this show. For some further reading, I’ll drop one more link for you—an article that I feel really captures the nature of the McElroy’s podcasting and their philosophy behind entertainment. I really hope to emulate these guys, both in public and private life.
And that’s how I’ll end things today. See you guys!
Matt
I’m going to kick this analysis off by warning my audience members that aren’t Morgan Leckie (hello again!) that this will be full of spoilers. If you’ve had any interest in watching the McElroy family’s podcast The Adventure Zone, then you might not want to read this analysis, because it’s brimming with spoilers. If you’re a person who doesn’t read introductions to rhetorical analyses, then this is probably a very unlucky day for you. But hopefully, you read this paragraph, and you know that—again—there are huge spoilers coming ahead, so do NOT read this analysis if you don’t want the ending of the show spoiled!
We good? Good. So begins my rhetorical analysis of a specific event in The Adventure Zone. For the uninitiated, this podcast is a collaborative story-via-Dungeons and Dragons told by my favorite podcasters—the McElroy Brothers (and their father Clint). The show stars Travis McElroy as human fighter Magnus Burnsides, Justin McElroy as elven wizard Taako (pronounced taco), Clint McElroy as dwarven cleric Merle Highchurch, and Griffin McElroy as the dungeon master (so, literally everyone else). A great deal happens in the show, including Mad Max-style desert races, tragic backstories, and hundred-year-long journeys. I won’t get into all that, but if you’ve got a lot of time on your hands (give or take eighty hours) then I definitely recommend listening to this podcast all the way from episode one. But for this particular analysis, we’ll be looking into a very serious and satisfying moment in the series: the peaceful death of beloved protector and ruff boi (that is how you spell it) Magnus Burnsides. I chose this event specifically because it carries a great deal of weight in the show, and does well to showcase the improvisational nature of the McElroy’s podcasts, even when they branch off into fiction. You can find the specific scene wonderfully animated YouTube artist William Chong here, but take note that for this, I’m just using the audio.
A little more context—in rhetorical terms, I’m giving some reasoning as to why this section is an appeal to emotion (AKA pathos). First, you should know that Magnus has just passed on to the astral plane, where, in the canon of The Adventure Zone, all souls travel to after death. As for Kravitz, who makes a very brief appearance in the scene, his job is to usher souls peacefully into the astral plane; he’s essentially our idea of a less-grim Grim Reaper. By this point in the series, he’s made appearances in several different parts of the story, and is, in fact, dating Taako, our favorite wizard. There’s a lot to it, but that’s about all you need to know for this scene outside of Magnus.
As for Magnus, he’s one of our beloved main characters, and has a notoriously tragic backstory in the series: a vengeful rival murdered our hero’s new bride and father-in-law. In this clip, however, Magnus and we are finally given closure, and he is reunited with his wife after years of adventuring and not quite caring whether he lives or dies. This gung-ho attitude actually ties into the more mechanical, nitty-gritty parts of the game, as Magnus’ fighting style is protection; basically, his role in combat is to make hitting others harder, and hitting himself easier. So, this scene, in which Magnus dies peacefully, surrounded by the beloved characters we’ve gotten to know throughout the series is a marker of growth. Instead of dying violently as he expected, Magnus got to live a long, storied life—as his wife Julia jokes, “You lived much so much longer than I thought you were going to.” The writing here, as it is through the whole series, flawlessly fits the situation around it.
So, let’s get a little deeper into the situation. Particularly, I want to talk about the auditory tools the McElroys (well, mostly Griffin, who does all of the editing and narration) employ to tell such a heavy story. For a little over a minute and a half of this clip, we’re just given Griffin’s narration and some sparse acting from Travis. This a cappella narration, if you will, is no less moving than any other part of the piece. In fact, listening to this scene for the first time, I found myself crying. And now, a little more detached from the situation, I know it’s because of all the work put into the making of this series. This clip is from the show’s sixty-ninth episode, with each one lasting between one and two hours. The episodes themselves are long, but it’s Griffin’s narration—his descriptions, his action, his character dialogue—that keeps things moving smoothly. As for the acting in this clip, I think there’s a lot more to be said.
Throughout the series, one source of humor was that none of the actors/players/family members would use consistent character voices, with the exception of Justin, whose voice for Taako was an aristocratic, almost condescending falsetto. However, Magnus’ gravelly, can-do voice was present throughout most of the series, and of course, in this scene. This voice, subtle, but distinct from Travis’ own voice, is important to note because it lets us know when the podcaster is stepping into his character’s shoes, not just acting but playing the role he took on in the series’ beginning. And, the fact that Travis stays in character throughout the entire scene also says a great deal about Griffin’s narrative skills. (Side note: in a post-finale discussion with the other cast members, ingeniously named The “The Adventure Zone” Zone, Travis did admit to crying here. Again, I can say the exact same thing)
There’s one final thing I’d like to bring up, and that’s the music Griffin used in the scene. The song, titled “Julia” is actually by another artist, Reeder. I thought the music was worth bringing up for a few reasons. First, it just fits the scene so well. We certainly don’t get a sense of finality here, rather that of a new beginning. The steady waltz carries us forward through some pensive melodies, and perhaps downwards into some darker variations on that melody, but always ending on that lighter note, and always forward with that pleasant rhythm. And second, it’s one of the few Times Griffin actually employs music other than his own in the series. True, the theme song throughout is a Mort Garson track titled “Deja Vu” and some other artists’ music makes appearances throughout the series, but for the most part, Griffin chooses to compose his own music for the series. His use of other music, I think, serves as a nod to others’ work, and a reminder that all good creators reach outside themselves for inspiration. And, of course, it always helps your story move forward to have some music helping it along.
This is about all I have to say regarding the McElroy’s rhetorical techniques in The Adventure Zone. There’s a lot of pathos, which I think is to be expected in fiction. But if you find yourself with some extra time on your hands, I absolutely recommend this show. For some further reading, I’ll drop one more link for you—an article that I feel really captures the nature of the McElroy’s podcasting and their philosophy behind entertainment. I really hope to emulate these guys, both in public and private life.
And that’s how I’ll end things today. See you guys!
Matt