The Signal Watch

Signal Watch Reads: Superman #6

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 15:22:00 +0000

Superman #6
Measure of a Superman
script - George Pérez
pencils - Nicola Scott
inks - Trevor Scott
colors - Brett Smith (1-22) Tanya & Richard Horie (23)
dialogue/ story/ layouts - Keith Giffen & Dan Jurgens
finishes - Jesus Merino
letterer - Rob Leigh
associate editor - Wil Moss, editor - Matt Idleson

There's a lot to parse about this issue, and very little of it has to do with the story presented in the pages.

Our rogue Superman-clone, as revealed at the conclusion of the last issue, is now freaking out Metropolis and Supergirl has shown up not to see what's going on with Superman in Metropolis, but to discuss events that occurred in a pair of books I dropped a couple of months back.

The two launch into a fight, and we see more of the "behind the scenes action" as Lois coordinates camera selection and the action moves forward. The actual Superman, however, seems to have formed an unlikely psychic link with the faux-Superman, which...

Anyway. Superman returns to Earth from where he'd been abandoned in orbit and pummels the fake Superman mercilessly while explaining its backstory.

In many ways, this issue reminded me of an extended conclusion to Bronze-age Superman stories in which the conclusion or explanation was a bit of a throw-away in comparison to the action that Superman was dealing with. I recently read some back issues in which Superman was dealing with amnesia and had no idea what his secret identity had been. That was interesting enough, but the way in which he discovered he'd been Clark Kent and recovered his identity was so convoluted and untied to what we'd seen before, it was clearly just meant to bring a hard stop to the amnesia storyline which had gone on over a few issues.

This plays much the same, with Superman making incredible leaps of logic in a way that I am not sure (a) makes any sense and (b) doesn't fit terribly well with how comics stories are now told with clues left along the way, not just a wholesale explanation and the answer also can't boil down to "technology magic" by way of a deus ex machina magic mystery solving plot item placed in the final scene.

When collected, I'll be curious to see how the story reads. It may flow a bit better, especially as the issues of Action Comics the story refers to will have been released by then. But the cracks in the plan to rush the New 52 are showing up all over the place, not the least in this issue.

I've suspected that the oddball insertion of the Legion story in Action was a back-up plan in case Rags Morales ran behind on art chores or other problems came to light, and the reveal of how Superman obtained his costume was most certainly supposed to have already been revealed by the time issue 6 of Superman had seen the light of day. That isn't what happened, and its knee-caps what Pérez was trying to do.

From looking at covers the past two months, its also pretty clear that we've hit some mandated "there will be a cross-over in month 5 or 6" storytelling, and, frankly, it feels terribly awkward not just in this issue, but across the DC line. Nobody was done telling their stories, and adding in Supergirl at this point just feels like the hand of Bob Harras reaching in and trying to boost sales rather than a story decision anyone paying attention would have made, especially as the Superman/ Supergirl dynamic was nowhere to be found at this time in the DCU. Bottom line- this issue does more harm than good in establishing those relationships. I never thought I'd miss the 90's, but at least Carlin seemed to know how to handle a Superman meet & greet with crossovers and multiple characters.

Also a tell-tale sign that something went awry? Pérez is listed as "script", but DC's current "we'll do anything for a buck" creators Dan Jurgens and Keith Giffen, taking on Superman in the next issue, are listed as "we actually re-wrote this whole thing", which would account for the sloppy execution, the muddled cross-over, and even the vague implication that the villain of the past few issues could easily return as the Eradicator of the New 52 (Jurgens, right?).

This book narrowly misses the "mind-controlled Superman" problem DC ran into about 8 years ago, where almost every run on Superman seemed to be about "what if Superman went bad because of MIND-CONTROL". Yes, that's an evil clone and not mind-control, but it still shows us Superman beating the tar out of Supergirl on the cover with the promise of a bad Superman. I dunno. I also don't see how Superman fighting his evil self over Metropolis would change the opinions of any of the pundits that Pérez set up early on in the run.

While I'm enjoying the work over in Action, and initially enjoyed this title for its 80's taught narrative sensibilities, this issue failed to stick the landing. I don't want to be able to feel editorial presence in my comics, but these days, that's all I'm feeling when I read DC's titles. I don't want to be distracted by a shift in voice in the final issue or two, of mandated changes which suggest I'm paying more attention to the comic than the people seeing it go to print, or have to feel that for the reintroduction of Superman to the largest audience possible in 2011-12, this story didn't go anywhere or do anything because editorial simply could not get the hell out of the way.

The shining light of the book is Nicola Scott's brilliant artwork. I absolutely love her Lois Lane, a mature, professional look (even if sticking Lois in command central now seems incredibly short sighted), and she really seems to handle the awkward look of the new supersuit very well. Not to mention her transition from Superman to Clark. I'll take her depictions of action over most of what's on the DC line these days, all of which makes sense and doesn't fall into the trap of mistaking chaos and posed characters for sequential storytelling.

Next month we get a story even Giffen and Jurgens don't seem happy about according to an interview or two I've read, where we get the Wildstorm Universe shoved into a Superman comic for some reason.

No Post Friday

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 06:03:00 +0000

If there is any justice: when I die Myrna Loy will meet me at the Pearly Gates wearing exactly this outfit.

Have a good Friday.

Fantastic Voyage (to Denton, TX and the movies)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 04:46:00 +0000

Wednesday I head to Denton, TX for a 2 day conference on... you know what? I'm pretty sure you don't care. But, yeah, 48 hours in Denton with Librarians and Degree Evaluators. Should be a hoot.

Anyhoo, on Saturday I'm hoping to join SimonUK at the Alamo South Lamar for a screening of one of my favorites from middle school, shown to us in Life Sciences in 7th grade in order to demonstrate exactly where we might need to know this stuff.

Fantastic Voyage is the original "we've shrunk them down to microscopic size and injected them in a submarine into someone's bloodstream to save this important person's life" story, which is way less specific than you'd think. Its been ripped off on numerous occasions.

But the first is still the best.

World's least efficient way of keeping your cholesterol under control

Doesn't that look exciting? 13 year old me certainly thought it was amazingly exciting. I think 36 year old me still sees the appeal.

The movie starts at 11:00, but as Kid's Club at South Lamar is free, be there early as 10:00. Have some coffee with me and Simon. We're good company.

And if you need further incentive: Raquel Welch wears a white "scuba suit" for a good chunk of the movie.

You can microscopically swim around in my bloodstream anytime

You can never have enough scuba-suited, laser-toting Raquel Welch for my dollar.

Come out and join us! Wear your Slim Goodbody costume so we can map the progress of our crew!

Signal Watch Watches: Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 05:42:00 +0000

Before turning it on, I knew literally nothing about the film The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948). I didn't even know it was literally about hunting treasure in the Sierra Madres, just that it featured Humphrey Bogart, and it was not High Sierra.

By the time this movie got made by director John Huston, Bogart was a huge name and draw, and I think you see a bit of Bogart you don't normally get. Sure, I've seen a desperate Bogart in Dark Passage and the end of High Sierra, but his character here never starts as the cool, collected sort he normally plays. He's down on his luck from the start, and seems to spiral as the movie goes on. It's an interesting turn.

Bogart plays Dobbs, an American unemployed in Tampico in 1925. After a bad experience with what he'd believed to be honest work, Dobbs and fellow bum Curtin (Tim Holt) are sinking low when Dobbs gets his hands on some money through luck and teams up with fellow Americans Howard (Walter Huston), an aging prospector looking to strike it rich.

The trio head out and begin their quest for gold, and, of course, there are threats both from external sources such as bandits as well as distrust growing in the camp as they realize how vulnerable they really are.

I haven't seen every movie made between Exiting the Factory* and Treasure of the Sierra Madre, but I'd argue that this film set the baseline for a lot of other movies to come about how things can go from iffy to extremely poor when you start ignoring the good feelings you started with at the beginning of a project and were ready to stab someone right around Beta release. Not that I've experienced such a thing.

Of course this is about finding gold in the Mexican wilderness, so there's a lot to be made of spiritual metaphors, etc... as one watches the trio make their various decisions. And, of course, the good and bad locals and others who pop up throughout the film. As fates are doled out, in modern terms we may find these a bit predestined, but the script is so tight and the action moves along so well, it seems driven by character and story and far less by the Hayes office.

All in all, for a movie about three guys digging around in the dirt, its a gripping story, and you can see the influence on a hundred other films you've seen since.

Also, its the movie which brought us the concept of not needing no stinking badges, so that was kind of exciting to see play out.

*the magic of movies!

Signal Watch Reads: Fantastic Four - Season One

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 18:33:00 +0000

Before I'd read the names associated with the books, I generally liked the concept behind Marvel's Season One initiative. The books would retell the origins of Marvel's top characters and get something in bookstores and online that a new reader could pick up and enjoy. Unlike DC's now baffling Earth One effort, Marvel basically chose to retell the same stories in a fashion that seems ready-for modern audiences. In a way, this is the same continuity - just a wee bit cleaned up and with modern backdrops.

I believe this Fantastic Four Season One is the first Season One release, and its a promising start if the goal is to create a comfortable entry point to the Marvel Universe for someone vaguely aware of the brand and characters.

As a veteran comics read, I've tried to become more aware of the Fantastic Four in recent years, but I find my FF fandom extends only as far as the person working on the book. Kirby? Yes! Mark Waid? Absolutely. But when Mark Millar took on the book a few years ago, I dropped it and never came back. And that was after some bumpy readership between Waid and Millar during which my reading was never steady.

On the whole, I really like the idea of the FF, and the older I get, the more I like the idea. I like the idea of a team of adventurers with a genius at the middle and a family around him, all of them with distinctive personalities and challenges. I like that they're sort of celebrities with licensed t-shirts, and that they make the world better with SCIENCE. But somehow I just have never been as married to the characters as I've been to my stand-by's at DC, and with my rocky readership, for me picking up FF trades is the way to go.

When Marvel announced that writer Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa would be taking on the Fantastic Four Season One book, I knew I would pick it up. Back about 8 years ago I was a big fan of his Marvel Knights FF series 4. He had a great feel for the characters, or at least one that worked well for me, and I've enjoyed some of his other work. And then I read that Austin-based artist David Marquez was taking on the art, so I figured it also couldn't hurt to support local talent.

Full disclosure: I'd met David in November, and he was this very nice guy working on a book I'd heard of, but never read. Mostly, at the time, I just enjoyed chatting with him and felt he was a decent dude.

Well, I'm thrilled to report that his work on Magdalena was not a fluke, and I think Marvel will be handing David a lot more work if the quality here is any indication. Holy smokes. His take on The Thing really works. Marquez's take on Ben as a solid block with the famous baby-blue peepers pioneered by Kirby and galvanized by Buscema, and I think of modern artists I've seen on the character, I have to now lean toward Marquez and Wieringo. I also really, really dig the take on Reed Richards, who I think can be a hard sell (I'm waiting for a copy of Eaglesham on FF, and his Reed is a wee bit "Hawkman-physiqued"). Anyhoo... Great work and very creative creatures, sets, etc...

The story is sort of boilerplate "FF beginnings" you may know from reading other FF books or seeing the pretty terrible movie from a few years back. Luckily we have Aguirre-Sacasa writing the book, and he really manages to make it feel fresh without obsessing over details like the celebrity, etc. Frankly my only regret is that this was a single volume and not an 8-12 issue series to pad out the book.

My two gripes: I am honored to have bought this book at Austin Books, but even with ABC's standard 10% off trades rule - the cover price is $24.99. That's a really expensive book, especially for someone trying out a FF comic. You can buy the movie on DVD for less than $9. Marvel needs to figure out how to drop the price $10 if they expect for this to move. I know they have printing costs, but $25 is simply too steep for a starter book.

The phrase "Season One" doesn't work particularly well. The comic feels like a pilot and second episode, not a 13-22 episode season of a TV show. Speaking in TV language might translate roughly, but Marvel could have found a different way to pitch this concept.

Smart things Marvel did: they included a digital code so I can get the Marvel app on my phone and read the book on a portable device if I like. Or share that code with a friend.

They also included the first issue of the Jonathan Hickman run on FF, a well celebrated read. With the issue included and with some direct lines about "and you can now read THAT story in this OTHER book", it tells folks where to go next (as well as what to expect). That's good for giving someone the reader's high built up wile enjoying the book a great next step.

Initially I quite liked the idea of the DC Earth One series, but the execution of Superman Earth One left me less than enthused. The relaunch of the DCU left me even more baffled as to the point of all this. And then DC waited more than a year for a follow up. That's just horrendous planning. There was simply nothing else for the person who enjoyed the book to latch onto.

Season One solves all of those problems and remembers that those stories worked, that we don't need to re-envision every detail, but that we can update to meet new readers where they live. My hat is off.

Anyhow, perhaps in the cheaper paperback format this will all make a lot more sense.

Signal Watch Watches: Exporting Raymond

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 03:40:00 +0000

I think I've seen Everybody Loves Raymond only four or five times, and at least two of those were in waiting rooms where I had no choice in the matter. I'm pretty aware of the basic set-up, and find the actors okay, but somehow it didn't really grab me. I will say, because I know you people and you think I'm all judgy... I don't actively dislike the show. I just never warmed to it the way I just never warm to a lot of perfectly decent shows. Take House for example. I don't know why I don't care that the show airs, but I watched one episode and that's all I've ever seen.

I do get how the show became a huge hit. Developer and show-runner Phil Rosenthal is not incorrect in his narration of Exporting Raymond that the show appeals because its universal and relatable, no matter your income bracket, actual family make-up, politics, etc... We all watch our parents with a low level of helpless dismay, we all watch our siblings believing they're permanently set to "goof" (sorry, dude. Don't pretend like you think I'm Einstein over here), and we all both love and mentally/ emotionally grapple with our significant others and feel like we're barely in the game, let alone winning any debates.

The movie of Exporting Raymond (2010) follows Rosenthal as he takes wildly popular American sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond to be reinterpreted and redeveloped in Moscow for the Russian audience. He believes that the concepts and characters will have no problem making it in a 21st Century Russia due to the basic center of the show seeming relatively straightforward.

Its not a crazy idea. American sitcom The Office was a very successful BBC show, and apparently its fairly routine for other countries to buy the rights and scripts from American programming and translate it for local tastes. At the beginning of the film, Rosenthal explains that The Nanny has been a huge hit in Russia (even without Fran Drescher, which I find remarkable) as well as other American shows like Charles in Charge.

Russia is not, however, the US, and before Rosenthal even leaves the airport parking lot he's facing cultural differences. And by the end of the first production meeting, I'll be honest, I give him a world of credit as I would have thrown in the towel mentally and just headed for the bar until my return flight.

Comedy is a cruel mistress. Its hard enough to find five people to agree on the hilarity of any single movie, but is a mopey husband trying to keep himself and everyone else happy something that other cultures even value?

Heck, I don't watch Raymond, and that thing ran for nine years and had millions upon millions of viewers. And I can't believe Arrested Development barely got three seasons. So there you go.

Every decision about the show seems alien to the Russians, not the least of which is the highlighted debate with the lovely but semi-scary costume designer. And the way in which Russia is developing shows is antithetical to the way in which the US has produced shows for years, including how many shows everyone on the cast and crew is working on at any given time.

The last thing I'd consider regarding Everybody Loves Raymond is that its cutting-edge comedy. But the soft approach of the show, and the dropping of machismo behind closed doors is seen as "unfunny" and nearly impossible for the Russians to process.

Anyhow, its a study in how "the more different we are, the more we're alike". Its the sort of warm fuzzy Rosenthal would have used to wrap up an episode of Raymond, but its also more or less true. Of us 7 Billion running around this orb, we will always have more in common than identifiable, true differences.

Its a brief movie, but absolutely fascinating to see unfold. And, as seems to be the cultural norm with Americans dealing with Russia, there is often some strange miscommunication, misunderstandings, and straight up mysteries that don't really resolve themselves. Because, hey: Russia.

Make sure you stick through the credits because they throw in some interesting bits that didn't quite make it into the flow of the film.

Signal Watch Watches: The Room (again - but in a theater)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 20:33:00 +0000

It had been a while since I'd seen Tommy Wiseau's opus The Room (2003!). While I am no longer quite as charmed by spending my time seeking out truly awful movies after the realization struck me that I was doing so at the expense of seeing good movies, the opportunity to see The Room on the silver screen with a room full of people seemed too inviting.

So, with PaulT and his ladyfriend, Val, we hit a midnight-ish screening of the notorious drama at The Alamo Ritz downtown. Neither Val nor PaulT had seen the movie before, and, frankly, I was more than a bit unsure about how this was going to go down. (1) I've never been 100% sober while watching the movie before, (2) sharing in the experience of The Room is not to everyone's taste and (3) I'll forewarn you that the movie features a whole lot of "adult moments", which translates into a whole lot more of Tommy Wiseau and his co-stars than you thought you were signing up for.

this deeply Photoshopped Wiseau gives us an idea of what he thinks he 's doing

There's a whole lot out there online written about The Room, and I hate to cover well worn territory, but its a shockingly inept melodrama. It has the immediacy and awkwardness of someone's very first screenplay, probably written from an experience that was somewhat traumatic to them but which doesn't translate well to an anecdote, let alone a movie. And, at that, the screenplay (like Birdemic: Shock and Terror) was written by someone who didn't have the best grasp of American English as a native speaker. A lot of the lines just don't make much sense unless your brain is adjusting to compensate for the non-native speaker's understanding of colloquialisms, cultural customs, etc...

And, like Birdemic: Shock and Terror, the writer/ director is taking the auteur approach and insisting on their vision for the film despite protests for reason, sanity or logic.

Firstly: I can't recommend that you first watch The Room at a crowded theater with the audience giving it the Rocky Horror Show treatment. Fans of The Room have their own chants, call-outs, interactivities, etc... For example, during every establishing shot of San Francisco showing the Golden Gate Bridge, one can chant "go! go! go!" to see if this is yet another shot wherein we'll see the entirety of the structure. Which, you know, is not a small bridge.

The problem, as I saw it, is that with the constant noise of the crowd, its easy to miss the 1000 little details that Wiseau intentionally and oddly made a part of his movie, from dialog like "Keep your comments in your pocket" to the nigh once-per-minute use of the phrase "don't worry about it", often after or while something extremely upsetting was occurring that absolutely should be a source of worry.

All that said, I do not deviate from my enjoyment of the movie as a bit of oddball cinema and schadenfreude. Truly, it is a marvel of one creator's vision nowhere matching their abilities, not to mention an oddly self-serving eschewing of reality. I now recommend just getting yourself a bottle of something strong to deaden the pain, and then let the DVD rip. And do not save your questions for the end.

Indicators were that Paul and Val had a good time. I'll not immediately leap to try to include them in any screenings of Birdemic, but I think they may be ready.

Signal Watch President's Day!: William Henry Harrison (Number 9)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 04:46:00 +0000

This President's Day we talk our Nation's* 9th President, William Henry Harrison.

President Harrison was born in 1773 in Virginia, son of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. He would be elected President in 1840, and attain fame among generations of school children perusing their textbooks to be shocked at the dates next to Harrison's name, and the reputation as "the guy who died right after taking office".

Which, of course, is true. After an illustrious career as a member of the US Congress (from what was then called the Northwest Territory), Governor of the territory of Indiana and with an honorable military record, including his role as the General at the Battle of Tippecanoe with the Shawnee and his leadership during the War of 1812, Harrison would find himself nominated twice for the office of President.

During his second turn at running for office under the Whig banner, in 1840 Harrison successfully campaigned as a bit of a good old boy, played up the Tippecanoe angle, which you may recall from the "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" campaign slogan, and did very well, especially in the electoral college.

March 4th of 1841 Harrison took office. By March 26th he fell ill with a cold which spiraled into pneumonia. Harrison died on April 4th, 1841.

For a full history of what befell Harrison and why, I invite you review this video:

In his short term in office, some which was spent ill, Harrison did not manage to achieve much other than to make appointments. He would be succeeded by his Vice President, John Tyler, most famous for being the first President to take office because the elected President had died, and for later joining and serving in the Congress of the Confederacy. He was also in office when Texas joined the United States.

Alas, poor William Henry Harrison. A colorful career as a servant to his country, repaid with a somewhat goofy campaign slogan you learned in Junior High and for becoming a cautionary tale as to why one should keep out of the rain.

*for those of us in the good 'ol US of A!

The Signal Watch Watches: When Harry Met Sally (for the first time)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 18:18:00 +0000

My co-worker and I decided to try a movie exchange. She generally seems to have good taste, but turns her nose up a bit at genre content and still holds the same prejudices she developed in the 80's when she was told "sci-fi is dumb". Somehow it came to pass that after I let her know I had never seen When Harry Met Sally, that I was informed by her and another colleague that I had to watch it.

The explanation she made, that I bought, was that When Harry Met Sally is the quintessential modern romantic comedy from which all other rom-coms flowed. It tried to be real, but cute and quirky, and whatever else.

"Fair enough," I said. "But it's an exchange."

Pondering quintessential movies of the 80's, of course I immediately leaped to Commando, but in the end opted for RoboCop. I figured she was less likely to be furious with me. Also, I think RoboCop is a genuinely smart movie. She watched it, and through gritted teeth lied about enjoying it. My hat was off, and the game was on.

So, this evening, I watched When Harry Met Sally (1989).

this movie would have been 100x better if it would have actually been about giants trampling Manhattan beneath their feet (and finding love & each other)

It is, of course, more than 20 years since the movie saw its release, and we're so far away from the date of the impact that water has filled the crater and evidence of the change is there only if you realize that's not just a tree-filled valley. The plot and ideas have been imitated to death, its gags have become part of the zeitgeist, and I now believe it added the phrases "high maintenance" and "low maintenance" to the lexicon. I was well aware of the "Sally fakes it in the deli" scene, which was more or less the essence of Sex and City every minute of every episode for its entire duration, so, credit where credit is due.

I'm not sure When Harry Met Sally is exactly the groundbreaking movie its made out to be so much as its a Woody Allen comedy softened and de-Allenified for the flyover states. Sort of... Annie Hall with 35% more attention to the female character's perspective and the feeling that these are actual people and not characters muted by 75% and a more "everyman" in place of Woody Allen. Also (spoiler alert) it has a happy ending.

In 2012, of course, Rob Reiner (director) and Nora Ephron (writer) have gone through cycles of believing their own BS enough that Ephron had flamed out with You've Got Mail as early as 1998 (we will try not to mention warning-sign flick Mixed Nuts [1994] if we do not have to, and we'd like our money back and an apology, please). Reiner was the one with the amazing run of movies from This is Spinal Tap to Misery. But now he sort of does feel-good stuff, walk on parts on TV shows, I dunno. He hasn't gone full-Lucas on us, but its a long way from Stand By Me.

Billy Crystal, the last walking vaudevillian, is affable as the "let's cast a guy other guys will like well enough, not feel threatened by, and he's funny without being a turn-off for women like Robin Williams." I have been told a million times how attractive I find Meg Ryan, but... and I'm sorry, Ms. Ryan, but I don't get the appeal. She always sort of struck me as a sort of generically attractive cipher who politely doesn't distract from her co-stars.

The plot to When Harry Met Sally is a cute idea, and while I was well aware of the concept, I give it high marks for feeling a lot less forced than I'd imagined. I had heard the basis of the movie was that "men can't just be friends with women because sex gets in the way", and, for good or ill in my own personal life, apparently that's not really a problem.

The universal truths the movie was suggesting probably felt very real and immediate to singles living in New York or LA or any city, really, circa 1989. But the movie never really gives the characters any definition of themselves outside of a few personality quirks and their relationship. I never felt like I knew what the characters actually wanted, were about, etc... They're both set up with interesting sounding careers, for example, but aside from naming those careers, they never talk about their jobs or their day, etc... I'm not suggesting the movie would have been better talking about their careers, but what it leaves us with is two people defined against the silhouette of their pre-destined-or-we-wouldn't-be-watching-this non-love-affair. Its not really a surprise they'll get together, which leaves us with the opportunity to see Billy Crystal doing his bits and Meg Ryan smiling gamely.

Had I been 14 when I saw the movie, I am sure it would have felt much fresher. The New York is a storybook New York with Christmas lights and perfectly hued autumn leaves in appropriate scenes. I wouldn't have been a grown-assed adult with ideas about human relationships, and I wouldn't have mentally dismissed everyone associated with the film but Carrie Fisher.

The natural feeling to the movie breaks in half as we round into the 3rd act, when Sally and Harry semi-accidentally have sex, at which point I sort of lost track of what was happening. Sally, who has seemingly never been all that interested in Harry is devastated as Harry reacts like a sitcom character all but leaving a Harry-shaped hole in the door as he cartoonishly scrambles to escape her bed. I suppose it was somewhat new to suggest to mainstream cinema audiences that sex was happening in this way, and so, good?, but... from that point to the inevitable "will they or will they?", the answer to the question is never really in doubt.

As mentioned above: Meg Ryan's Sally is a cipher. She's the model modern female protagonist, free of Donna Reed perfection but with adorably annoying quirks. Kudos to Ephron for not inventing "the pratfalling female protagonist" nor showing Sally singing Aretha Franklin into a hairbrush, but aside from a Mary Sue-ish sort of "even her quirks are great", I had no idea who the character was by the time the film ended other than "the woman who finds Billy Crystal charming instead of rolling her eyes at him".

two tragically normal-sized people meet and sort of have a thing

I'd point back to Annie Hall where the lead's attempts at figuring out Annie was a bit like nailing jello to the wall, and the attempt to solve the mystery of the person was part of the story - if not the the story. Annie felt three-dimensional even as she felt elusive (probably because Allen reportedly wrote the part about Keaton and then cast her).

A few items of note:

I've been sold a lot on how "true" one is supposed to find When Harry Met Sally. I guess I didn't find much to relate to, and the oft-quoted dialog reads like the covers of the self-help books that were exploding in 1989. "I want what I want" isn't a manifesto.

"Men and women can never be friends because of sex" and here's why seems to be the argument of the movie. Or something. I found the message muddled at best, and the conclusions a bit off-putting, especially when you start with a male protagonist who begins from a perspective of believing he should bed every woman who passes in front of him. Yes, he overcomes that feeling in the wake of his own life crumbling and his libido destroyed by crippling depression, but it seemed a temporary condition and not necessarily part of a path of growth.

The genre of the rom-com doesn't do much for me as I can barely keep my eyes focused when people I know and love start telling me about their personal trials and tribulations around love. I like to think I show enlightened self-interest when it comes to the romantic entanglements of others and am constantly asking "how does this affect me?". This movie asks that we care about these two, and I was never really sure why I was supposed to get invested. They don't even face any challenges in the course of the film other than their own scripted awkwardness at the turn to the 3rd act. Luckily, When Harry Met Sally is sort of the weight, texture and consistency of cotton candy. It looks like it might be something worth paying for, its quick to ingest, its sweet, it wasn't that expensive and unless you consume too much of it, its more or less harmless expect for the fact that your teeth are now blue.

I do want to point out that this is all relative. In 2012, this movie, seems like a bit of genius in comparison to the contrivances and schlocky set-ups of your average Katherine Heigle vehicle or Kate Hudson trainwreck. I don't think the movie is actually that bad, it just missed the mark of living up to its reputation. Go see Annie Hall. And I may finally watch Manhattan to cleanse the palette.

The Comics Canon Question

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Sat, 18 Feb 2012 06:09:00 +0000

PaulT (aka: @placeslost) forwarded me a very interesting article. Its a discussion of how a canon of known, quality comics is sort of percolating with folks during urbane drawing room conversations (I guess. This has never happened to me.). Whether or not there's an agreed-upon core group of classics in comics at this time is an interesting question, especially in a medium so young that seems to change tastes and values about every 10 years.

I'm going to risk some flames here and say the following:

Dear former Lit Major,

I am so glad you read Ghost World that one time, and that thanks to the movie and profile you read somewhere, you're passingly familiar with Marjani Sartapi. Because its now "hip", you'd like to talk comics and you know I read comics. While I appreciate your background as a reader of Jane Austen and The Canterbury Tales, reading two or three comics and having a former boyfriend who was "really into Batman" makes you an interested tourist, and I welcome you, but please be patient (and, yes, we're all already aware of the homosexual undertones of Batman and Robin, so, thanks). Also, please stop correcting me. It's rude and weird and that person writing the article you keep referring to about "important comics" was also clearly new to comics to those of us not new to comics. I am sad to say that what you saw there was a lot of enthusiasm, not the voice of experience. Pop culture writers suddenly compiling lists online - especially about comics - doesn't actually mean anything.

Trust me.

There's a lot that's going to go into a comics discussion that will, likely seem befuddling and not necessarily make sense. Especially when we start talking about the relative merits of Jimmy Olsen comics or talk about Scrooge McDuck as a major literary character.

Comics are not books anymore than oil paintings are sculptures or a photograph of a horse is a horse. I beg your patience. Things are going to get weird.

The writer of this article seems like a semi-serious reader and lists his top 5 - seemingly off the top of his head - picks, and its an interesting assortment.

Maus: A Survivor's Tale
Preacher
The Sandman
Transmetropolitan
Watchmen

I'm not sure I'm in agreement, but what the list did do was get me to think a bit.

I say there's nothing like a good soak to get the wheels turning.

Firstly, 4 of the 5 are published by DC Comics, 3 of them from DC's Vertigo imprint. 4 of the 5 are written by folks from the UK, but more or less American comics. All are written and largely drawn by men, and I'd argue that there's a certain testosterone and nihilism factor to the author's suggestions. It also excludes work pre-late-80's (or, roughly 50-70 years of the medium's existence) and stops about ten years ago. It purposefully ignores well-established superheroes, and is a nod to the fact that non-DC or Marvel comics exist without stepping outside the sort of Miramax, easy-to-locate and access factor of Maus.*

Moreover, the author doesn't really talk about form or narrative design in depth. Nor do I all that often because he's likely a bit like me and trained to talk about narrative, but not trained to talk about design and art.

In fact, from context clues, I'd guess this author looks a lot like me. Probably a white dude between 33-40, but who (unlike me) has an editor looking for content and who said "yeah, sure. Write about comics. That'll be neat.".

This is what I find so difficult about suggesting any sort of canon for comics. I'm not sure it exists. And as much as I like the work here... is it canon? Is that even a word used properly here? In comics when we say "is that canon", aren't we really talking about whether the Kents are named Jonathan and Martha or Eben and Sarah? Or whether Orpheus is still part of the Batman universe?

I own and have read 4 of the 5 listed books. I've always intended to loop back and read TransMet, but... Warren Ellis's Warren Ellisness never held much charm for me,** and the thought of reading the whole series past the age of 35 just sounds exhausting.

Frankly, while I do think this is a nifty list of books to recommend a pal who looks just like you, this isn't the list I'd hand a literature professor who wanted to learn about these fancy "graphic novels", as s/he would no doubt call them to my face, trying desperately not to insult my passion for sequential art and storytelling. I call them comics, thanks.

Immediately I call shenanigans. I don't know how you put together a list like this without Will Eisner or Jack Kirby represented. Problematically, I don't know how you frame Jack Kirby for the casual reader where understanding his Kirby-ness is a bit of an artform in and of itself. Do you start with 1940's Captain America? Jump to 1963 FF? Dunk them in the deep end with New Gods? Point out that superheroes do not make up the entire medium and show them Kirby's other work?

Where is Carl Barks (and Don Rosa)? Walt Kelley? Ditko? Wally Wood? Kubert? Pekar? Crumb? And has Daniel Clowes moved into that arena? Can we go international a bit and talk Tardi? Moebius? Manara? Benet? and we haven't even started talking about Japan. And, lastly, I know its not fashionable, but how do you leave out Frank Miller and the seismic shocks his work had on superheroes narrative and his artistic style had on the form in the west?

How can you discuss the form of comics without key items like Action Comics #1? Detective #29? Amazing Fantasy #15? I don't know.

I do agree that Sandman and Preacher used the monthly periodical stretched out over many years to tell novelistic and complete stories, and if you've the stomach for Preacher (and its a hard-R, if not NC-17 rating), then its worth checking out. Its an achievement on so many levels, and both series held their quality and built and built on narrative strength right to the last panel. Sandman I hold in such high regard I've got all the volumes in those ridiculous Absolute Editions because I quite literally want someone to be reading my copies in 40 years.

But so, too, do under-the-radar works like Promethea manage to pull together a universe, and I value them as highly in their own way. But I cannot imagine pulling someone aside and saying "You should really start reading comics with Promethea. You will really appreciate what they did there" anymore than I'd bother taking a child who loves nothing more than Ragu pizza sauce to a $75 a plate restaurant. Understanding and reading comics isn't necessarily as easy as being able to follow the story and panels.

At some point, seeing the whole field from a 6000 foot view, I don't know how you pick. Nor do I know how you explain, say, the genius of Carl Barks to someone who is picking up a comic and wading through their entire lifetime's conditioning to how they're supposed to approach Disney products and these characters as icons of the ultimate in pointless entertainment versus what Barks achieved and when he did it? How do you show them Bark's mastery of figure, character, action and story in what is essentially a "funny animal" comic strip?

How do you explain All Star Superman to someone who comes at it actively wanting to dismiss comics, superheroes and the super hero they've been told by their 18-year-old nephew is "irrelevant"?

These are things that are very hard for even the weekly comic shop customer to overcome. It takes a leap to not just focus on the hot hit of the week (especially when the internet is screaming at you to buy all 4 tie-ins to this month's event released just this week) and start looking elsewhere on the shelves, digging up history, appreciating the work for something with potential beyond the immediate gratification and as visceral entertainments of sex and violence. In fact, I'd say that there's almost a detrimental effect from the weekly shopper who is only picking up Batman and Wolverine titles and believes that through some form of osmosis that they know pretty much everything there could be to know about comics (and the answer is: Batman is a bad-ass). This same principle applies to folks who used to read comics in middle school, abandoned the medium, but have fond memories of GI Joe and Crystar comics.

You're always going to like what you like and dislike what you dislike, and comics has been mostly free of tweedy critics if you ignore The Comics Journal (and I argue that most comics fans did, until very recently, in fact either ignore or roll their eyes at TCJ for its relentless Eeyore-ism). I would like to see at least alternative coursework with an academic study of comics history, comics form and function in public schools. Hell, we've got whole departments of TV and Film, so I don't see why not. And I think out of this sort of study, and these sorts of conversations the "essentials" of genre, of the study of universes by publishers, and all the other complicating factors in beginning a conversation about comics will begin to create an informed way to even hold that discussion.

But I don't know that we're there yet. It has to be more than a greatest hits list for comic nerds, and compiling the list has to include things that you may not be entirely comfortable loving, but you can respect (we've all got those items we see in film and TV). And it has to be demonstrable in its place in the pantheon of the medium.

Discuss.

*That's not to say Maus doesn't earn its acclaim. It does. Its a phenomenal, harrowing read, but its also like believing there was something independent about, oh, The English Patient.
**even as much as I more or less liked Planetary, I became weary of even more characters who stood around being cooler than characters who weren't on panel to comment back

No Post Friday - Pam Poovey

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 05:43:00 +0000

The past year, I have become a fan of the FX after-9:00 PM cartoon Archer. If you haven't caught Archer, well, I pity you.

Normally when I didn't feel like posting because its a Friday and I've already said my piece for the week, I'd go dig up a picture of some lady film star of days gone by. But I didn't find any new Marie Windsor pictures, and I don't feel like I know Audrey Totter well enough to start obsessing yet, so today we're talking Pam Poovey.

Pam is, of course, a cartoon and the HR Director at ISIS, a sort of freelance spying... oh, forget it. She may not be the buxom field agent of the show, nor voiced by the incredible Jessica Walters, but Pam Poovey is my kind of lady.

Also, start watching Archer. Its really pretty funny.

The Signal Watch Presents: What I Do Meme - The League

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 16:03:00 +0000

We love a good meme around here, and since nobody gives a @#$% what I do for a living (thanks for that), here's a look at that same meme from the point of managing my unstoppable media presence over the past 9 years.*

click for depressing full-sized

*yes. 9 years. In April. God have mercy upon my soul.

Signal Watch (Finally) Watches: Some Like It Hot (1959)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 04:39:00 +0000

While your faithful blogger has seen many, many movies and some movies many, many times, we also have huge holes in our mental inventory of flicks. Not the least of these areas I need to take care of is pretty much everything directed by Billy Wilder. No, I don't know why.

I especially don't know how I missed something starring Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon. Anyhoo, I finally watched Wilder's Some Like it Hot.

Yes, this is the one where Lemmon and Curtis (in terms of the film) successfully pass as women for an extended amount of time, and which spawned a million knock-offs like Bosom Buddies or Tootsie.

The pair play down on their luck musicians in 1929 Chicago who become accidental witnesses to (spoiler alert) the St. Valentine's Day Massacre (/spoiler alert). Fleeing Chicago to avoid the mob, the two find work in disguise in an all-girl band.

Of course Monroe is the ukulele player/ vocalist in the band, and that's just going to be a problem when you're trying to keep anyone from figuring out that you're a dude.

The movie more than earns its reputation, and I can see why its a favorite. I suspect that when this hit, it pushed as many buttons and was as "edgy" as current comedies like The Hangover that play with social mores and steps just enough outside of the expectations of an audience that the laughs come from the sheer surprise. Of course, some of that's dated now (there's a bit about "why would a man want to marry a man?"), but actually very little, which is part of why I think the movie holds up well. Its also plenty risque.

I suspect most of you have seen the movie, but I said I'd talk about every movie I watched in 2012. I won't go on too long, but if you haven't seen it, I recommend. Lots of great performances, and an oddball of a happy ending. Frankly, Tony Curtis isn't someone whose work I know terribly well, mostly just a few viewings of Spartacus, so it was great to see him in top form here, and I'll be trying to learn his accent (you know the one) just to annoy Jamie. And special props to Joe E. Brown. He is terrific in this movie.

Monroe is particularly hilarious in this movie, and you can see how (aside from the visual cues) she was at the top of her game in this movie. But, man, some of the dresses... I don't know how they pulled that off. Billy Wilder, you mad, mad genius.

Great movie.

Late edit: San Diego's famous Coronado hotel does exteriors for a good part of the film, doubling for Florida. J__Swift reminded me of this. If in San Diego, I highly recommend a visit out there.

Hey, let's talk about that whole Ghost Rider thing and how comics rely of the Gray Market

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 13:03:00 +0000

I've never understood exactly how the comics convention industry works. But more than that, I haven't understood how, the past few years, its become increasingly popular for folks to take to Etsy or to some other place on the web and sell non-licensed images of licensed characters. Heck, I'm not clear that some of the published material in a few artists' sketch books I've bought were reproduced and sold to me legally in the strictest sense.

What seems to have brought all of this to a head is that former comics artist Gary Friedrich, the man who (sort of, maybe not) invented the motorcycle-riding, flame-skulled character Ghost Rider for Marvel has sued Marvel (now owned by Disney) for one reason or another, and Disney counter-sued with a $17,000 lawsuit at Friedrich for the proceeds he's earned by attending cons and selling sketches of Ghost Rider. (See the very clever Ty Templeton cartoon for a rebuttal).

I point you to this article, because it echoes a lot of what I'd always wondered about how the industry has been more or less ignoring the very real problem at the center of the Con and Commission Sketch sub-industry in comics.

Much how the local Austin film industry is made on the magic of occasional tax breaks and the starry-eyed hopes of a few local dependables and a nigh-endless sea of former RTF majors hoping to work on an honest-to-gosh Hollywood type movie at little to no cost (and many would probably pay to work on the films so they could claim experience for when the next non-paying gig comes around), the comic industry is full of bright-eyed twenty-somethings with a bucket of talent and hoping for the next big opportunity based upon the current work for which they're getting gouged.

There's a whole essay in here about how that's okay, so long as one goes in eyes-wide open, but that the future for anyone hoping to make a living in comics and not wind up absolutely destroyed by the industry needs to start doing creator-owned work as soon as possible. But we'll save that for a later day.

I note the bright-eyed world-view because it seems often that the comic industry operates on a sort of high-school understanding of what "should be" versus "what is in your contract" and the fact that "you are now working for and with corporations larger than most nations' GDPs when you tangle with Marvel (Disney) and DC Entertainment (Time Warner)". They can bankrupt you with a $17,000 lawsuit. The suits their attorneys wear when they don't care what they look like are $17,000.

Look, I'm no attorney, and I more or less believe in the judicial system we've got, but... I can't guess where the future of Gary Friedrich lies, nor do I really know if a judge or jury will find merit to someone's claim.

Sometimes a lawsuit sort of works out. The last remaining Siegel is currently @#$%ing with DC to such a degree that it caused the New 52 Relaunch and the Superman in the upcoming movie to have a new costume. But that's the one case. And it certainly has nothing to do with Artist X going off and selling pictures of Superman at a convention which, legally, looks a bit more like going off to publish an unlicensed Superman book or to sell bootleg Superman t-shirts, etc... than any claims to actual ownership (judging from sorority mixer shirts I see on campus, you can't stop abuse of something like the trademarked Superman symbol, you can only hope to contain it).

DC has been a part of Warner Communications for a long, long time, and I don't know that fairly-new DCE honcho Diane Nelson knows about or cares about the regular infringement at cons. But it does seem the comic industry and Con industry are so intertwined these days that the symbiotic eco-systems for both would get completely disrupted should they start threatening artists' alley with lawsuits. But outside on Cons? Commissions? Etsy?

I don't know what someone in legal from Disney or Time-Warner is going to say about what boils down to dilution of brand, the easier the web makes it to not just make these things findable, but to produce.

Full disclosure, I do own the odd item sort of like what I'm describing such as a Jill Thompson reproduction on an unlicensed water color of Wonder Woman which I don't mind mentioning because the picture and Jill Thompson are both awesome. So there. But I also know its an oddball item in my collection of comics stuff. Normally I don't buy anything that isn't licensed by the creators or company, mostly because if its not licensed, I feel myself in a weird legal limbo, and, frankly, unless the work is by an established creator for whom I already have a warm fuzzy, I don't really get all that jazzed about owning their work, be it a print or a Batman Sherpa Hat from Etsy.*

But ordering a picture of Batman from, say, Norm Breyfogle (or a Wonder Woman picture from Jill Thompson) would be a whole different can of beans from the Etsy thing. Norm Breyfogle is selling pictures of Batman at a profit with no legal basis for doing so... Its legally gray at best and a civil and/ or criminal case at worst.

However, wandering a Con, its pretty clear that a Comic Convention isn't just a lot of established artists that supplement their income from doing sketches of Batman. There are plenty of artists you've never heard of with their gallery of drawings for sale. Add in the market for, oh... topless Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman black and white poster-sized prints (yes, I saw this booth. So, so many ways to sue there) and its a pretty weird thing to watch go down. The hard thing for those in the trenches will be that if the right person at Disney or TW gets fired up, this whole Con thing is going to crash down around people's ears.**

So... I don't know. One thing that seems true about the comics community getting all riled up about this issue is that its going to draw the attention of the lawyers. And, keep in mind, the lawyers were the ones at Marvel who successfully argued that the X-Men were not humans in order to increase profitability on their line of Mutant action figures, completely ignoring the content of the actual books themselves. These are large corporations, and that starry-eyed idea of how things should be rarely matches what is profitable or protection of IP.

On top of recent internet related issues such as SOPA, I intentionally draw no income from this site so that it can't be demonstrated that I make any dough from using all sorts of imagery here. All of this game can turn on a dime.

*Not to be a jerk, but I'm an okay artist. If I just wanted a picture of Batman, I'd sit down and draw one.
**but will also possibly spare us having to ask Ethan Van Sciver to be the one to police the Rob Granitos of the world.

Dames Going Straight For the Heart

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 01:03:00 +0000

Don't worry, lonelyhearts. Some of our favorite Dames here at The Signal watch are here to wish you a happy Valentine's Day.

the always effervescent Ann Miller

Ms. Cyd Charisse and cellophane

perhaps Clara Bow needed a running start

Monroe takes the direct (and AMERICAN) approach

St. Valentine's Day (Massacre)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 13:03:00 +0000

It ain't all roses, hearts and chocolates.

On February 14th, 1929, 7 men of the "Bugs" Moran Gang were brutally murdered by what is now believed to have been possibly Capone's gang dressed up as cops. Prior to the Massacre, Chicago had been a bit loose with their gangsters, treating them a bit like celebrities who provided jobs and booze in the era of the Volstead Act.

A bizarre but telling detail of the incident: One victim (with 14 bullets in him) was still alive when found. Asked by the cops who had done the deed, he said "Nobody shot me".

Wikipedia has a phenomenal amount of info on the gruesome crime.

Happy Valentine's Day!

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 05:09:00 +0000

Happy Valentine's Day to my best girl and our dog(s).

this probably captures our situation a bit better

So, I went to a big, splashy Broadway musical (Wicked)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 05:55:00 +0000

I don't remember not liking The Wizard of Oz. The movie, anyway. I've never read the book. I don't know that we watched it every year when it came on TV as kids, but I've seen it often enough, including in film school and then several times afterward. We've got it floating around on DVD here somewhere.

That said, I didn't make it through the Fairuza Balk starring Return to Oz, nor a recent SyFy Channel attempt at an update.

And while I don't talk about it much, I more or less grew up going to the theater all the time, going to see musicals, drama, comedy, what-have-you, in venues from college campuses to community playhouses to the bigger venues in Houston (no, we didn't fly to New York to see shows). In addition, I did a bit of my own "acting" back in high school, but wasn't actually any good. In general, though, all that left me with a soft spot for live performance.

Here's the deal: going to see plays is @#$%ing expensive. I tip my hat to my folks, because I only understood in the abstract what a big deal it was to include their stupid kid in outings to what had to have been pretty pricey shows. Most of which I very much enjoyed, but, still. Now that I'm paying for it, I better see a flying monkey or two for my dollar, and I'm not going to wind up going all that often.

I was a bit torn about going to see Wicked as I'm never really sure what I'm getting with a touring Broadway Show in the era where Lion King is a big draw (I am the one person in America who was sort of non-plussed with the magic of Julie Taymor's puppets when I saw the show in Arizona) and Spider-Man with a soundtrack by U2 seemed like a good way to fill seats. Basically, I sort of think of musicals as a showy stage production more than I think of them as a particularly powerful way to communicate a narrative. There's a hell of a lot of difference between a revival of The Music Man and By the Skin of Our Teeth. But it can work.

I should also add that I don't want to begrudge the show its success and hate to look down my nose at something just because it was good enough on Broadway that its become the soundtrack of soccer moms in mini-vans all across the country. Anything live that's not sports that catches the public's imagination should get a nod.

All that said, I very much liked the story of Wicked. It didn't deviate much from what I'd pieced together before entering the show, but apparently it strays from the source material a bit, so I am probably going to read the novel at some point (and The Wizard of Oz). For the audience here: the show plays a bit like the Star Wars prequels, telling the story of who The Wicked Witch of the West actually is and how she got to be such a crank by the time Dorothy shows up in Oz. I'm not one to say nobody is actually evil, just differently motivated. But everyone has a story, and I think if we can explore Darth Vader's origins, its worth looking at how the lady in the black hat got there, too. And the path for our Witch to get her to the castle makes for good story.

I'm not sure the music worked particularly well for me, and it is a musical, so... there's that. Its not shoddy, but aside from show-stopper "Defying Gravity", its not got quite as many musical moments as the big guns of the 1980's and 90's. I felt the performers were quite good, even if I had seen the terribly lovely Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenowith on the Tony's perform the number and had that in my head going into the show.

Expect fabulous sets, costumes, etc... even a pretty snappy special effect or two.

And while it was a lovely date night: this is a good one for you girlfriends out there to go see together. Its a bit of a buddy story.

At any rate, that was our Valentine's outing, so Tuesday will be Hot Pockets and CSI for us, I guess.

Boy, can I relate

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 05:37:00 +0000

The early 90's were a difficult period for yours truly...

don't worry, kid. A little Retin-A will clear that right up

Just a quick note... the woman who played Lois Lane on Season 1 of The Adventures of Superman, Phyllis Coates, appears in this movie. As much as I am on record regarding my love for Noel Neill, Ms. Coates was pretty great, too.

Action Comics #593 just makes me really uncomfortable

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 21:03:00 +0000

I don't dislike the 80's Superman comics. The Byrne/ Wolfman-era relaunch was something that maybe didn't need to happen, but it gave the Superman books an escape hatch from a corner they had painted themselves into somewhat methodically during the 1970's as Julie Schwartz also modernized the Man of Steel.

I love the Schwartz stuff for one reason, I love the 80's era relaunch for another. Its part of why, in the DC relaunch, I feel quite zen about the Superman reboot.

Because it makes me terribly, terribly uncomfortable, I have never spoken about Action Comics #593.

yurgh...

In the early days of the post-COIE relaunch, much as they're doing now, DC began inserting Kirby's New Gods into the DCU. For a while there, Mister Miracle and Big Barda were sort of the stepping stone into the New Gods franchise. The push led to at least two New Gods titles, a couple of mini's, a Mister Miracle ongoing and, eventually, Walt Simonson's kick-ass Orion series right about when I was graduating college.

But then there's Action 593, which features the time Superman was mind-controlled into making a dirty movie with Kirby-character-fave Big Barda. Comics Alliance discusses the issue here, if'n you're interested in details of what happens in the issue and Superman's near-miss with Peter North-styled glory. I should mention the issue also gets covered about once a year as someone accidentally discovers the issue in a back issue bin and goes ape-@#$%, which is not the incorrect response as... seriously, DC.

Why DC went to print with this issue is a bit of a mystery. I can guess that pressure to tell more "adult" stories may have come down upon DC's creators in the wake of the success of Watchmen and DKR which both contained sexual components (DKR far less than Watchmen's bits of sexual content), but DC and its creators weren't necessarily ready to handle what that might actually mean in practice in mainstream comics. I know I talk a lot about those two works as seminal, and younger readers may understand in theory, but in practice, this sort of awkward sexualization and violence started trickling into a market and from creators who may have not been quite ready for the opportunity in front of them to migrate a genre into new territory.

To John Byrne, apparently adding sex meant "adding pornography". Or not. One wonders if that were John Byrne's personal relation to sexiness, but I'd guess not (but it takes all kinds). It may have been a misguided writing attempt, or it could have been Byrne intentionally going over the top to make a point to editorial about the ludicrousness of upping the sexiness. All are entirely possible, but with editorial not blinking, which says something else (including the massive weight Byrne carried at DC at the time), the comic plays it utterly straight with a fairly serious set of issues, not the least of which is the possible rape of both Barda and Superman. Yeah, I know.

I didn't read the issue until some time around 2004 or 2005, and when I did "utterly dumbfounded" only begins to describe the experience. While Superman never actually, uh, performs, it seems Barda was up to something on grainy VHS. So its not exactly a wash in the "well, that was a near miss" department that usually helps comics circumnavigate controversial territory, and we're left with a storyline for Law & Order SVU in the DCU.* At the time, comics, especially Superman, would have been picked up by kids (we've all but fixed that problem. Thanks, comics!). And while no prude I, I still consider the skanky world and subject matter of "adult film" to be for people who might have at least exited middle school.

As an adult reader, I just find the whole thing clumsy and embarrassing for everyone involved. Its not a good comic, which actually makes it stand out from the other issues around that time, which are, in context, pretty well done as the Superman titles were busy building a new Metropolis and supporting cast for Big Blue. Its always an ugly moment in any media when the creator's reach exceed's his grasp. Given the preponderance of material out there for adults, I suppose it seemed like making the switch in comics would be no big deal. Unfortunately, 20-odd years later, we're still wrestling with the same problems of what a mature world for people in tights looks like.**

It would be fascinating to hear Byrne's explanation for the issue.

And I am sure the The Leagues of 1986 were totally freaking out. This was the bold new direction Byrne was taking? This was what DC thought was okay to do with Superman? In a book read by kids featuring a widely known character who was on TV shirts and packages of peanut butter?***

It was a misstep then, and despite the audience skewing older, it'd be a misstep now. I'm not exactly sure where in the DCU this kind of material would work, but this wasn't a responsible use of the characters, and the juvenile and naive approach shows a system failure at DC at the time. Unfortunately, these failures seem to occur on a semi-regular basis, with varying degrees of play in the Comics Fan-o-Sphere.

*minus Mariska Hargitay, which is a shame. And I am now going to spend some time thinking about Mariska Hargitay.

**see recent issues of Catwoman, Red Hood, Suicide Squad, etc...
***heck, yeah, we had Superman peanut butter

Signal Watch Watches: My Cousin Vinny (1992)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 05:29:00 +0000

Preamble: So, a short while ago our own JimD suggested I watch the 1992 film My Cousin Vinny and review it in honor the film's 20th anniversary. I had never seen the movie, and declined. Not a week later, the movie came on cable and I recorded it. Over about 2.25 workouts on the elliptical, I watched the movie. JimD is free to use this any way he pleases.

I had never seen My Cousin Vinny prior to the suggestion that I participate in a 20th Anniversary retrospective of the film. My primary memory of the movie is that it was part of three separate waves moving through American movie-going at the time. (1) In the wake of 1990's Goodfellas, America had very much embraced actor Joe Pesci. It would be another 2-3 years and I would suffer through With Honors (1994) before he would sort of disappear once again. (2) There was also a small trend in the manner of Doc Hollywood to show city folk as fish-out-of-water in the country and (3) since the 1980's, people from highly urban areas with New York accents were often presented as having special powers that helped them navigate in the city and bamboozled people in the country or suburbs (see any movie from the 1980's). Country folk (or Australians) also had super powers. Only suburbanites were not imbued with special skills or powers from their environment.

The movie is now most famous for the, as memory serves, surprise nomination and win of Marisa Tomei as Mona Lisa Vito, the titular Vinny's long-suffering and unlikely fiance. It is also famous for being the last place anyone of my generation remembers seeing Karate Kid star Ralph Macchio show up in a movie.

In a way, My Cousin Vinny is a festival of "oh, that guy" character actors all appearing in the same movie. Most notably Herman Munster actor Fred Gwynne plays the cranky rural judge, but we also get Lane Smith as a local prosecutor, Bruce McGill as a sheriff, Maury Chaykin as a witness to the alleged crime, James Rebhorn as the government car-guy and others.

The plot centers around two youths from New York driving through Alabama when they're taken for the perpetrators of a murder at a convenience store. Having no money, Ralph Macchio's family sends down the very clearly not-young (looking in his mid-50's at age 49) recent law-school grad, Vinny Gambini, a sort of all-encompassing stereotype of ridiculous New Yorkers formed in the minds of us living in the suburbs of fly-over country in the early 90's. Vinny is a blowhard who dresses badly, wears his hair in a pompadour, drives a silly car and sees absolutely nothing unethical about lying to judges and potentially throwing his own cousin into the electric chair thanks to his negligence and incompetence.

I'm not a lawyer, and I don't even watch Law & Order, so from the first scene, I can't say much about the legal proceedings that occur in the course of the movie. Or how or why the trial seems to draw about the same attention as a traffic ticket when its a murder trial with all the makings of a press bonanza. Of course, this movie precedes the OJ trial, the rise of Court TV and the decline of Headline News into welcoming Jane Velez-Mitchell onto our screens entirely on purpose, so it can be somewhat forgiven for thinking the trial would draw sparse local attention, let alone no media.

I'll be honest, My Cousin Vinny is the sort of very broad comedy that I was avoiding already by 1992 and it more or less is exactly what I thought it would be, minus the fish-out-of-water learning to love small town life and making friends with local color. In fact, it remains positively xenophobic of its smalltown Alabama surroundings right up to the final minutes of the film where our heroes sprint to escape from the backwater berg and return to Brooklyn where Pesci's Vinny will tell a terrifying tale of being thrice thrown in jail while trying the same case. Its an interesting and daring take, in which the characters not only avoid the cliched path, but also sort of fail to grow as characters whatsoever, their latent New Yorker powers kicking in to save the Karate Kid.

The courtroom results are never in doubt, the comedy relies on big yuks like the funny foods folks in the south eat (Grits! Hilarious!), but the interactions between Vinny, Mona Lisa and the locals are confined to the courtroom and a curious run in with locals at a bar over a pool game we don't see, the plotline of which goes nowhere, and doesn't make much sense (why don't the country guys just roll Vinny? Pesci is scary in Goodfellas, here he's a sort of fop).

Marisa Tomei won Best Supporting Actress at the 65th Academy Awards, the nomination of which must have shocked quite literally everytone involved, let alone her win. Who was she up against?

Marisa Tomei – My Cousin Vinny

Oh. Well, you know... I have a theory on this.

Marisa Tomei is totally, ridiculously good looking.*

That's not a dig at any of the other lovely ladies nominated, but, Tomei makes a catsuit made of the same fabric the sofa my folks had in our formal living room in 1988 kind of work. I basically think the other talented women split the vote and when voters were filling out ballots, they remembered "the cute girl with the wacky outfits in that one movie. She was funny." Vanessa Redgrave's catsuit in Howard's End just couldn't compete.

this isn't the best picture, but you get the idea

Tomei's storyline is resolved in only the most cursory of manners, and its pretty clear that she and Vinny have a highly dysfunctional relationship that doesn't get resolved because he realizes her value as an equal. He realizes her value as a tool that he was smart enough to use. The movie seems to want the character to somehow equal or surpass Vinny in intellect, and hints around that could happen, but... nope.

see, I'd look terrible in that purple dress

Now, Tomei is good, and I don't want to make it sound like she's not. Its just that she's not playing a character, she's playing a sterotype in form-fitting outfits. She and Fred Gwynne are the only actors who seem to be aware that this is a comedy, or who have a sense of what will actually make this work. I tip my hat, but... its not like this is a groundbreaking movie or a character we'd never seen before.

Following her surprise nom and award, Tomei did go on to do several much less cheesy parts in which she wasn't the good-looking prop to keep viewers distracted, and she has significant acting chops. Here, however, its all pretty hammy, and aside from the 90's love of a good catch-phrase or cartoonishly over the top stereotype as character, I find the award mind-boggling.

My favorite courtroom movie is Anatomy of a Murder, a movie which does walk the viewer through the process fairly well (the novel goes into infinitely more detail and manages to remaining gripping til the last page. I recommend!) which this movie isn't trying to emulate, but the film does ask us to care about the procedure and process of the courtroom, something we're to believe we understand better than Mr. Gambini who has been studying the law for 8 years. I will say that the use of evidence makes for a tidy ending to the movie (and seems like it may be the last remaining core of an otherwise watered-down script), although I've no idea if procedure, etc... were correct for any part of the trial. I will say I appreciated the fact that the movie didn't go out of its way to make the prosecutor, sheriff or anyone else cartoonishly hostile, and made it all feel sort of collegial. But it does set up a peculiar Man Vs. Himself premise to the movie that I don't know it entirely resolves.

I suppose they still make movies like this. I'm not really sure. These were the sorts of movies I'd only see when my folks insisted the whole clan was seeing a movie together during Christmas, and then I'd get in trouble afterward because I wouldn't say I'd liked it. (see the My Fellow Americans incident of Christmas '96). In the end, the movie sort of fails in part because Joe Pesci isn't actually funny. He seems sort of confused and dumb, and emotionally detached from Tomei who is carrying all the weight plotwise and from a comedic standpoint. Its satisfying to a certain audience in its utter predictability, but its not much... fun.

Still, people refer to this movie all the time, so I am likely missing something.

*Take THAT, Joan Plowright and all your years of serious acting

Happy Belated Birthday, AmyD

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 06:32:00 +0000

Amy is the one on the right

Happy B-Day, AmyD. I was in Lubbock, so I did not call, so, hey: blog post!

AmyD is the very special ladyfriend of my brother. She's a renaissance woman: law student, future librarian, chef, gourmand, juggalo.

She's a heck of a dame, and we're glad to have her on Team Steans. I hope she was showered with gifts on her birthday, because I totally have not bought her one yet, and I'm hoping she's too busy with her other gifts to notice.

Thanks for putting up with my brother, and all of us.

Merry Birthday.

This sounds like a case for The League, P.I.

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 20:03:00 +0000

This dame has real trouble. Sandwich trouble.

I have no idea what this is about, but its the kind of mystery I can get behind.

Go ahead and read the title of the story there at the bottom of the cover

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 05:51:00 +0000

That, people, is how you promise just about everything in a single title.

Light blogging ahead (I'm in Lubbock)

noreply@blogger.com (The League) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 05:04:00 +0000

Tonight I am in Lubbock. And tomorrow night I leave Lubbock. I won't be home until near midnight, so do not look for me.

I'm up here visiting Texas Tech University, a pretty darn good school pretty darn near as far away from the rest of the world as possible. Sort of a reminder of how spread out we are once you pass west of the Mississippi. Fortunately, I haven't had to go to El Paso yet for work, but I might one day. And when I do, I might see about going to Ft. Davis or something you hear about in Texas, but you kind of have to really want to do.

This time to Lubbock I flew rather than drive my own car. I had believed the Lubbock airport took turbo props from Dallas, but learned en route from SF a couple weeks back that jets come here. It wasn't a 737, and I forgot to look to see what carried me here, but I'll look on the way back. It sure beats the 8 hour drive.

Anyhow, limited blogging for several days. I'm sure you'll all get along just fine.