In 2001 Nickelodeon began airing a peculiar yet profoundly intriguing animated show that caught audiences off-guard: Invader Zim (2001) created by Jhonen Vasquez. This dark animated comedy pushed the limits of how horror can be visualized in children’s programming, all while gaining an impressive cult following. Though Invader Zim stopped airing in 2006, fans wanted more from this unique show. In 2019, almost thirteen years later, a follow-up film, Invader Zim: Enter the Florpus, was released on Netflix. However, rather than gushing over the perceived novelty of the series, I argue that the show’s narrative structure, labor context, and visual style embody what can be understood as an animated Rasquache aesthetic. Reframing Invader Zim in this way helps explain its distinctive cultural impact – not simply as a cutting-edge dark cartoon from the 2000s, but as a key artifact in the history of Latinx aesthetics that historicizes Rasquache and extends its influence on both Media and Latinx studies scholars.
Figure 1: Altar for La Virgen de Guadalupe. Credit: Altar for La Virgen de Guadalupe, Hector Sanchez and Roger Garcia, Marfa, Texas, 1997. (Photo by Nerin Kadribegovic) on https://www.si.edu/stories/lesson-rasquachismo-art
I would like to begin by providing an interpretation of what Rasquache is and how the show Invader Zim embodies it. Rasquache is a social art movement and critique stemming from Chicanx activists, artists, and community members during the Chicano movement of 1965 to 1985 in the United States. Rasquache sought to challenge normative definitions of art and uplift artistic productions from working class communities through mediating and centering lived Chicanx working class realities. In his chapter “Rasquachismo: A Chicano Sensibility”, Tomás Ybarra-Frausto writes that “To be rasquache is to posit a bawdy, spunky consciousness seeking to subvert and turn ruling paradigms upside down.” (Ybarra-Frausto 2020, 85) Ybarra-Frausto is intentional in positioning Rasquachismo not as a definitive style but more so an attitude or taste that embodies a working-class sensibility that pays attention to Mexican/Mexican-American borderland culture. An experience where “living on borders and in margins, keeping intact one’s shifting and multiple identity and integrity, is like trying to swim in a new element, an ‘alien element.’” (Anzaldúa 2007) For example, rasquache could be “…traditional items such as religious shrines (capillas) and pottery mingle with objects from mass culture such as pink plastic flamingos or plaster animal statuary.” (Ybarra-Frausto 2020, 86) With this, I position Invader Zim as another form of animated digital rasquache, inspired by Castillo’s concept of digital rasquache where the “…practice of collage [that] becomes a conscious and conscientious cultural practice.” (Castillo 2014, 9) Invader Zim presents life in the US borderlands through Zim; an alien whose mission is to conquer Earth was a ploy by his leaders to get rid of him. His ego drives the show’s humor, as he navigates a world that sees him as both an outsider and threat, but he eventually comes to see Earth as his home.
Figure 2: Zim (Center) in his human disguise being introduced to his class. Credit: Zim in The Nightmare Begins, https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0758088/?ref_=tt_mv_close
Though an “invader,” Zim quickly becomes accustomed to the culture of Earth, and his plan of world domination essentially halts. Often clashing with his human classmate and archnemesis, Dib. Dib, a young conspiracy theorist, is immediately aware of Zim’s identity, but unable to convince the people around them. Many episodes focus on Zim screwing around in Earth to eventually defending Earth itself from threats. This is where a borderland reading can be produced. While Zim is positioned as an Other, he quickly stakes Earth as his home. This ambivalence towards Earth where Zim actively negotiates with the expectation of being a resident of Earth and a Irken infiltrator might resonate with borderland experiences of Latinx peoples navigating biculturalism that rasquache directly speaks to and is embodied in the show’s narrative and aesthetic. One example of such embodiment is the controversial episode of “Dark Harvest.” The episode starts with Zim being informed that he needs to visit the school nurse’s office, which causes Zim to panic as the visit might reveal his status as an alien. In a dark twist, Zim’s solution is to harvest organs from Dib thus becoming a collage of “normal human organs.” Zim passes his nurse’s checkup, but Dib, due to missing an organ, gets alienized by the nurse.
Figure 3: Zim (in Dark Harvest) passing through an X-Ray revealing all his stolen organs. Credit: Zim in The Dark Harvest, https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0611962/mediaviewer/rm1419532288/
A rasquache reading reveals Invader Zim as both a subversive collage and a product of creative resistance. Its dark, unconventional aesthetic clashed with Nickelodeon’s norms, often leading to censorship. In a 2019 Polygon interview, Vasquez alludes to these tensions, noting that the network’s shifting personnel shaped its decisions. Owing to the precarious nature of being an animator, this created an interesting site of negotiation between the creatives of Invader Zim and mainstream sensibilities that echoes the primary theme of resistance located within a rasquache approach.
In a separate interview between Vasquez and Martin Goodman of the Animation World website, Goodman asks Vasquez “where does Zim stand in relation to you?” Vasquez states that “I think that Zim is just the part of me that refuses to listen to anybody. It’s the only reason I get anywhere! People always telling you this and that, you’ve got to be careful of this and that.” (Goodman 2001) This exchange provides personal insight into the way Vasquez imbued a rasquache aesthetic to the show Invader Zim. Zim’s negotiation with identity, expression, and headstrong attitude seems to mirror Vasquez’ experience of working in American animation industry. In an interesting way, Invader Zim tackles the absurdity of normality and ambivalence of fitting into an othering environment. Indeed, Invader Zim disrupted the conventional style of children’s animated programing through deploying a visually striking rasquache aesthetic that critiques capitalism, normalcy, and borders.
References:
Anzaldúa, Gloria. Borderlands: La Frontera: The New Mestiza. 3rd ed. San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books, 2007. Print.
Castillo, Debra Ann. “Rasquache Aesthetics in Alex Rivera’s ‘Why Cybraceros?’” Nordlit, no. 31 (2014): 7-23.
Goodman, Martin. “Speaking For Zimself: A Conversation with Jhonen Vasquez.” Animation World Network. October 31, 2001. https://www.awn.com/animationworld/speaking-zimself-conversation-jhonen-vasquez
Polo, Susana. “Invader Zim creator Jhonen Vasquez on why his ‘pulsating garbage bag of filth encrusted rabid weasels’ is back on Netflix. Polygon. August 15, 2019. https://www.polygon.com/interviews/2019/8/15/20805859/invader-zim-netflix-enter-the-florpus-jhonen-vasquez-nickelodeon
Vasquez, Jhonen. Invader Zim. Directed by Steve Ressel. March 30, 2001. Nickelodeon. TV Series.
Hummel, Rob & Trueheart, Eric, writers. Invader Zim, Season 1, episode 7, “Dark Harvest.” Directed by Steve Ressel. Aired April 20, 2001, in broadcast syndication. Nickelodeon, 2001. TV.
Ybarra-Frausto, Tomás. “Rasquachismo: A Chicano Sensibility.” In Chicano and Chicana Art, 85–90. New York, USA: Duke University Press, 2020.
Luke Hernandez (He/They) is a Ph.D. Student in the Arts, Technology, and Emerging Communication program at the University of Texas at Dallas. Luke’s research lies at the intersection of Critical Game Studies, Latinx Studies, and Queer and Trans Media Studies where he is interested in the ways Games and Media impact marginalized communities, particularly Queer Latinidad.