Tintin is one of the few areas in life where I can not, and probably will never be able to, remain impartial. Oh, I know the faults. There’s very little character depth, especially on the part of the boy-reporter Tintin. (We never see him working, even though technically he’s a reporter. And where does he get all the money?) The situations are largely improbable. Many of the stories, especially those involving non-European characters, are grossly typecast and positively racist, seen today.
But I can’t see them that way. Why? In a word: Adventure. […]