6 posts tagged “comics”

I watched some G4 coverage of Comic Con '07 today. It was, as one would expect, really weird and scary to see a whole network catering to what were once the most reviled among us: fanboys. Personally, I would have been fine if they (myself included) had stayed reviled, if Hollywood hadn't started churning out everything exclusively for the car-that-turns-into-a-giant-robot-loving five-year old in all of us.

Seriously, Transformers was awful.

So there I was, feeling all superior with my collection of Criterion DVDs and my non-attendance of some sweatymensganza in San Diego, when they announced that they were about to show the teaser trailer for next year's The Dark Knight. And I sat up, turned up the volume, and gripped the chair arm. Goddammit. They got me. Those bastards. I had so many problems with Batman Begins, and yet there I was, forgiving Batman for acting so un-Batman and letting Liam Neeson die (when the whole movie is about rising above, becoming a hero, and then he goes and watches some guy die like he's The fuckin' Punisher or some bullshit!?!?!?!), forgiving Katie Holmes for sucking, forgiving so much. I still love you, Chris Nolan, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Christian Bale. And I can't wait for Heath Ledger's Joker. I can't fucking wait to see Christian Bale dressed up like a giant bat so that he can protect Gotham City from someone called "The Clown Prince of Crime".

Goddammit. I'm one of them. I hate all things.

From "Uncle Sam & The Freedom Fighters" #2 (October '06), by Jimmy Palmiotti and Justin Gray.
Click and enjoy.

When asked recently why I wasn't attending last month's San Diego Comic-Con, my response was that I had no interest, and want nothing to do with most of the people who share my love of comic books.

And this would be why.

I'm glad that Dorian at postmodernbarney.com has done the work for me, because a masochist I may be (I love me some conservative talk radio), but I would not be able to wade through these message boards without, as they say, killing a bitch.

"I don't want to meet anyone with my interests. I hate my interests."
Steve Buscemi, in Terry Zwigoff's Ghost World.

In other news, this week I found myself at the Knitting Factory to see Scott Barkan's band, Fortress of Attitude. It was a good show, and I got to catch up with Scott, which was bitchin'. I found out that he works for Pandora up in San Francisco, organizing and classifying their music, which seems like it might be the coolest job. Especially because they let him take months off and go on tour.

The point being that I cannot recommend Pandora Internet Radio enough. The conceit is that you type in what music you like, and it recommends things for you based not on the interests of other users (i.e. Amazon.com or Netflix.com), or even on narrow genre definitions, but based on real musical content that people like Scott analyze. Instrumentation, arrangements, time signatures, and vocal quality all come into play.

What I love about it is that it is always wrong. I only have a few stations set up, with one to which I add lots of disparate stuff. That way, I can watch Pandora try to find connections between Mos Def and The Vince Guaraldi Trio, and then try to relate that to the song "All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down" by Hank Williams Jr. I like to keep the machines on their toes.

More often than not, though, it's easy to see which artist Pandora is trying to emulate. If you create a station with, say, Donovan and Grandmaster Flash, half of the tracks will be hippy-dippy folk and half will be old sKool hip-hop. It doesn't synthesize the two and play that late 1980's folk-hop artist, Thug Elf.

But Pandora, like any creature, is beautiful because of its flaws. For example, if I create a radio station based around the work of Randy Newman, the first song it plays is a Randy Newman song. Actually, in this case, it a Bonnie Raitt track from the Randy Newman penned Faust. But no matter.

The second track it plays is "Wrapped Up In Books" by Belle & Sebastian. OK, alright.

The third track it plays is "Weatherman" by Delbert McClinton, also well known as the opening track to the film Groundhog Day.

"If you don't believe me, take me by the hand. Can't you feel you're warming up? Yeah I'm your

WEATHERMAN!"

This song is totally incredible, although not for reasons that Pandora can possibly understand.

Anyway, the whole thing leads to "Brighter Than Sunshine" by Aqualung. Which I kind of hate. As a matter of fact, I kind of hate most of the songs on the Randy Newman radio station. So what does that mean? Why do I like Randy Newman? Is it because I associate the album "Sail Away" with my adolescence? Is it because of the tembre of Randy's voice? Is it because I think he's "cool"?

Pandora, in doing away with everything but the mathematics of musical taste, leads me to question the standards and preferences that make up my musical identity, something that is deeply personal. I think of my musical likes and dislikes as being as vital to understanding me as understanding my family. But why in God's name do I like "All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down"? I first heard of the song as covered by Elliott Smith, so is that the only reason? When I create a station based on the song, the first track it plays is "She's Not Cryin' Anymore" by Billy Ray Cyrus, from his masterwork, Some Gave All. Which I don't like. Or do I?

No, I definitely don't. But why?

Aaaaaaah.

What seperates the Hank Williams Jr. song from these? Or from Pandora's next recommendation, Hank Williams Jr.'s own "Stoned At The Jukebox"?

Wait a minute... this song is awesome...

"There's the cold hard dawn, and I'm stoned at the jukebox! I can't help it if I'm still in love with you..."

Not bad, Pandora. Not bad.

So there are limits. There are bands that I don't think Pandora can quite grasp. Like The Hold Steady, whose music conjures up an extremely literate and wildly drunk Bruce Springsteen cover band. I love them, but a lot of that has to do with some sort of abstract energy that I sense from the fierceness of their playing and the narratives created by their lyrics.

Pandora's first track recommendation is "Through The Storm (live)" by Moxy, from the album Raw.

It's the kind of unapologetic cock rock that, at this point, most people can only listen to ironically. It may be as "hard" as The Hold Steady, but I would never recommend it for someone who enjoys them. By the way, I'm really really excited that The Hold Steady has a new album coming out. If you're not yet a convert, please check out "Cattle And The Creeping Things" off of their album Seperation Sunday. Holla!

Anyway, the conclusion comes when Pandora, based on what I don't know, recommends tracks from the album All Hail West Texas by The Mountain Goats. I have not heard of these Mountain Goats, but I like what I hear, and I buy the album, and I love it. And everyone wins.

Thanks, Pandora. I love you too.

From Outsiders #37 by Judd Winick.

If that ain't love, then I don't know love.

Here are some awkward and passionate thoughts on Bryan Singer's Superman Returns.

Heavy spoilers follow. Seriously.

What is troubling about this Superman film is that it seems unconcerned with the fundamental questions that it raises about the character; it takes big chances, but only for the benefit of neat moments, and with no concern for what it all comes together to say.

Firstly, the film does not grapple with the primary superhero question; which identity is the mask? Is he Clark Kent, or is Clark Kent a nebbish persona? Is he Superman, or must he project false confidence when he dons the cape and tights? Perhaps he's someone else entirely, someone who is only comfortable enough to show himself in Kansas, and who has about four minutes of screen-time before he is whisked away in favor of the masks.

So who are we watching? The film never decides, and no one seems to care. Least of all Clark Kent, who is content to play the fool while Lois, now attached to Richard and mother to Jason, pines over Superman. The classic Clark-Lois-Superman love triangle is not only sidelined (which I don't necessarily have a problem with) but completely lost (which I do), as is the idea that Clark and Superman are seperate persona within same man. Clark Kent provides a few moments of comic relief while Superman gets all the play. Which is how Superman seems to like it.

The conceit is that Superman, upon learning that astronomers had found fragments of his home-world, set off into space for five years to see what he could find among the wreckage, and has now "returned". The world that he returns to is, we are told, different. Lois Lane has penned a Pulitzer winning op-ed entitled "Why The World Doesn't Need Superman". What this piece says, presumably, is, "Because he's not here," because the minute Superman shows his face again (with its perfect cheekbones and glorious eyes, damn you Brandon Routh), the world erupts in appropriate applause and excitement.

The fact that Superman's five year absence puts his date of departure in 2001 seems like it could be the tip of a really interesting iceberg. Is the film trying to say that the country's potential for hope and decency abandoned it with 9/11? Is it attempting to courageously comment on our country's transformation from beacon of light to ogre of greed?

Alas, this is no tipped iceberg.

So how has the world changed? In short, it hasn't. Nothing has changed since the 1930s, except that everyone has seen Richard Donner's Superman film. Boy have they seen it. And one woman now has a boyfriend. And this is the main concern of the film.

In the universe of DC Comics, Lex Luthor was president for what corresponded to George W. Bush's first term in office. This storyline makes me so happy because it acknowledges the limitations of the character without descending into melodrama. Superman cannot go against the will of democracy. And yet he knows that Lex Luthor is a lying, evil sack of shit. This is an appropriately insurmountable obstacle for Superman. It is worldwide, it is incapacitating, and it is fraught with complication. The conflict that Superman Returns presents is a less complicated one, unless you are a shithead. Which our Superman seems to be.

I will give the film this; Lois Lane's boyfriend is a decent guy. He is intelligent, good looking, and a good parent (unlike Lois herself, who endangers her son with troubling ease). And the fact that Richard is a great guy is both respectable and frustrating; it does not present us with an easy way out.

But this is not a conflict for Superman, and here's why; Lois Lane is now a mom, and she is domestic with a man who is (it seems at first) father to her child. As far as Superman knows, she is happy. End of story. Guess what, Superman? Eat it. You don't have to be Superman, or even ModeratelyDecentMan, to understand that this family has established itself, and that to try any rooftop canoodling with this woman is unconscionably selfish. To see Superman wrestle with this and err by macking it to Mom Lois would be fascinating; to watch it treated as a foregone conclusion that Superman will breach Lois's relationship with Richard is frustrating.

I do not consider myself a purist; do with the character what you will. The fact that the film is not simply an origin story is great. But to ignore the moral gray areas raised by the story belies ignorance not only of this character, but of all character.

In and around the events of this film, Superman does not act like Superman. Here are some things that he does which are not acknowledged to be troubling in any way.

1) Superman slept with Lois Lane without revealing to her that he is Clark Kent. He didn't tell her his real name. This may be acceptable behavior for a fraternity brother at freshmen-ladies-drink-free-night, but it is unbecoming of a superhero. Even a shit superhero like Daredevil.

2) Superman left for Krypton soon after sleeping with Lois Lane. He did not tell her where he was going or why, and did not bother to pick up a phone while he was away. This is why he does not know that his relationship with Lois resulted in a pregnancy.

3) Superman learns of an in progress aircraft disaster from the TV news that happens to be on while he pities himself in a bar. Had that TV crew not been covering that particular flight live and had Superman not been watching TV at that moment, everyone on that flight would probably be dead. This really bugs me, not because Superman needs to be responsible for every human on the planet, but because it makes him so unnecessarily ineffectual.

4) He tells Ra's al Ghul, "I'm not going to kill you, but I don't have to save you," and lets him die.

Wait. Scratch that last one. Wrong cowardice.

5) While he could be saving a life or two, Superman invades Lois Lane's privacy by spying on her and her family as they prepare dinner one night. He does this for no reason other than that he is bummed that Lois doesn't like him anymore. Boo hoo.

6) Superman did not call his widow mother while he was away. For five years. Not even to say, "I'll be home by 2006."

Superman. For the love of God, call your widow mother. She worries about you.

These things are truly troubling. The wonderful thing about Superman is that he is, first and foremost, a decent fellow with the power of God. He's no whiny teenage web-slinger or "tortured" dark knight detective ("Ooooh look at me I'm so tortured"). He's just a good guy. And to see what writers do with this limited template of decency is what makes him engaging. But this film is unconcerned with whether he is decent at all. Or, more unsettling, the film seems to set some pretty scary parameters for what is heroic and what is just excusable because, after all, she's just a woman. And you liked her a lot. Once more, boo hoo.

The film treats the revelation of Jason's super parentage as a "cute twist" without addressing Superman's responsibility or abdication thereof. He knocked Lois up and did not even stick around long enough to notice some tummy bulge. And thus her anger with Superman comes to make more sense. My anger with Superman comes to make more sense.

Let us talk about a guy. We'll call him Ralph. Ralph is no Superman, but only a guy with some unpaid parking tickets and a fondness for cheese sandwiches. Ralph finds out that Sally, a woman he slept with five years ago (and hasn't spoken to since, though he cares about her deeply and respects her greatly) got pregnant with his child and went through that pregnancy alone. Because Ralph left soon after sleeping with Sally and hasn't been in touch with her. Even though he loves her.

Ralph feels unimaginable guilt! Ralph must make amends by developing a relationship with the child, but must navigate the choppy waters of the child's delicate ideas of family! Ralph must, like a man, discuss the situation with Sally and Sally's new man, who is a wonderful father for a child to whom Ralph has contributed nothing but DNA.

I bring up Ralph because Superman is supposed to be at least as good as the Ralphs of the world. And if he's not going to be, if the film is going to take Superman in new and flawed directions, at least acknowledge that fathering a child and disappearing is a shitty thing to do.

Other things bother me as well, but I'm trying not to descend into nitpickery.

Kevin Spacey is fine, but his Lex Luthor is a nitwit. Why does he hate Superman? Because he "doesn't share his power"? What does that mean?

Here are things that don't make sense in the movie, and are frustrating because I am not an idiot.

1) Camera phones do not take high resolution, front-page-ready photographs. Their photos are blurry.

2) Who would want to buy real estate on Lex's kryptonite continent?

3) What kind of a major metropolitan newspaper lets people take five year hiatuses? It's addressed with a throwaway line about someone dying, so I guess I'm just nitpicking.

4) How can Superman lift a continent made out of kryptonite? This is definitely nitpicking, since I like this sequence a lot.

5) What kind of reporter, when faced with Superman, who left five years ago for who-knows-where and has been doing who-knows-what, faints? I don't care if you're Lois Lane or Tokyo Rose, you ask Superman a damn question. "Where the shit have you been?" for example.

Lois Lane, you are a shit reporter and a shit mother. And despite that, I still don't think you deserve the old dine-and-dash from your man friends. Especially your Superman friends.

Here are some things that I liked about Superman Returns.

1) Brandon Routh. When he's allowed to do things, he does them well. Especially bumble. He's a great bumbler.

2) Nice moments involving elevators. Clark waving to Lois in a crowded one. Superman watching Lois ascend in one.

3) Lex Luthor violating Superman, first in his home, and then physically. It is really well done, and appropriately brutal.

4) All of the Jesus stuff (of which there is not that much). Because that's good fun.

5) The suit looks great. Good coloring.

All in all, it is a film rich with odd inconsistencies and a fair amount of unpleasantness.

Liza and I now have a cheapo scanner. Its name is Scanley Kubrick. This will be the only gratuitous post (posting?) to arise from the purchase.

A beautiful selection from The Spirit by Will Eisner.