Archive for the ‘Comics’ Category

We’d Have Rather Had Matt Damon

Tuesday, October 4th, 2011

Saw Captain America, finally. Or, at least, I *tried* to see it. At least two different families, for some insane reason, chose to bring their toddlers along to the film. The little ones were wholly unconcerned with Captain America or the nearly-full house who’d come out on a Monday evening to see him. They did not use their indoor voices. Although the parents did try and keep them quiet, two-year olds are going to be two-year olds. I absolutely despise going to the movies, and I was distracted and angry—just like a two-year old— all through Captain America.

Look, I know times are tight and sitters cost, but staying home with the wee little ones is the price you pay for your thoughtless and likely drunken impulsive screwing. People who don’t want to be parents should find some discipline to protect themselves, and parents should come to grips with the fact that children literally take over the entirety of your life. Nobody stood up and screamed at these people, but, even in the dark, I could clearly see how tense the audience was at the utter selfishness of these people.

I was actually going to walk out after the first act but I fell asleep instead. All the action stuff just bored me to tears. I thought the reimagining of certain details of Cap’s origin worked quite nicely for the most part, but every time I looked at the actor playing Steve Rogers—though quite capable and awash with earnestness—I kept seeing Matt Damon and a much better performance.

Tommy Lee Jones was wasted, the whole Bucky Barnes B-story was a waste. It wasn’t the worst super- hero movie I’d seen, but we would have rather had Matt Damon, whose raw acting skill would have added much-needed depth to the main character. Like most other super-hero flicks I’ve seen, the central character was nowhere near as fascinating to watch as Downey’s Tony Stark. It’s as if the creators of these subsequent films hadn’t seen Iron Man.

Chris Evans is a fine actor and he did a credible job, but he lacked the gravity well of Downey’s self-absorption. In Iron Man, every cutaway from Downey was a chore. I couldn’t wait to get back to Downey to see what whacky thing Stark would do next. The same was true in The Dark Knight, only that sentiment applied not to the hero but the ensorcelled performance of Heath Ledger as the villain. Thus far only Downey has made the hero of these hero films insatiably compelling. Somebody should sit with the writers and help them to understand that concept: the hero must be not only worth watching, but so compelling you can’t take your eyes off him.

Of this summer’s crop of films, I’ve not cared one whit whether or not Thor got his powers back or if Hal Jordan lived or died. I didn’t care, at all, about any of the New Mutants in X-Men: First Class, and, past the amazing Skinny Guy special effect of the first act, I didn’t care what happened to Captain America. These are fatal flaws of these films. They are formulaic and extremely predictable. In every case, once the hero puts the costume on, the film runs out of interesting places to take us. The notable exception is, again, the first Iron Man, where the costume itself was a character, and the more he wore it, the more that armor changed the character inside it.

Early on, real soldiers laugh at Captain America’s costume. There should have been a point where, once he’d grown and changed internally, once he’d proven himself to these men, that the costume itself ceased being a joke to the men and instead became an inspiration to them. Maybe I slept through that shot, but I didn’t see it. Evans’s was not a bad performance by any stretch, I just didn’t care whether the Red Skull iced him or not—a consistent complaint of this rush of films and even the very good Bat films.

Make me care about the hero. Stop allowing him to be upstaged by the villains. You’d think this would be elementary, screen writing 101. I am terrified that, in the rush to make production dates and in the euphoria of this digital effects age, that already DC and Marvel are forgetting what made these heroes heroes in the first place.

Tin Men

Wednesday, September 28th, 2011

And that’s the worry: what to do after you’ve old the origin story. Iron Man 2 has already demonstrated that, beyond the compelling origin story, they have nothing to say. Where do they go next? Superman: The Movie began as an unbelievably sober and grown-up science fiction film and then, finger-snap, became ridiculous once Clark moved to Metropolis. Once they got there, into the camp silliness, the film and the franchise to follow never recovered. The worry is that America will quickly grow tired of the diet and, as fast as super-hero flicks exploded as a phenom, they will implode from over-exposure and under-development. We’re still lining up, but in order to keep those lines forming, the producers will have to do better.

They can get away with this thin material because the origin story is always a solid bit of storytelling. But, after that, they’ll need to actually have something to say.

Full Essay Is Here

The Hairball

Thursday, September 22nd, 2011

I was looking through some old comics the other day, came across the Panther/Storm two-fer, started reading and couldn’t understand a word of it. I mean it.

There was this kid, Vibraxas, and his back-s tory, there was a bunch of business with Lord Gaur and the Eternals, whoever they were, and a pot-bellied SHIELD agent about

to start World War III by hunting these folks down.

The White Wolf, whom I liked quite a bit, was using Vibraxas to resurrect Klaw, so I needed to explain who the White Wolf was (The Panther’s adopted brother, his Reverse Flash) and who Klaw was (the man who created The Black Panther when he murdered Panther’s father, T’Chaka—wait, now I have to explain who T’Chaka was). Then there were all of these side characters running around—Queen Divine Justice and Panther’s staff. There was so much plot, the brilliant Sal Velluto’s art was routinely suffocated by having been constricted to six panels on a page, which I covered with Ross’s chattering (explain who Ross is). I couldn’ t read i

It was a mess.

I flopped down on my sofa and thought, “What the hell was I thinking?”

Full Essay Is Here

Big Trouble In Little Mogadishu

Thursday, September 22nd, 2011

White Guys Talking To White Guys About Selling To White Guys: Latino U.S. Market: $750 Billion. Black U.S. Market: $892 Billion. Marvel and DC Minority-Targeted Publishing Lines: 0.

Latino and African American markets are worth hundreds of billions of dollars in the U.S. So far as I know, both majors have stupidly and arrogantly dismissed those markets, along with the Christian/Evangelical market, which virtually no major and precious few indys will touch—like they’re afraid of all that cash waiting to be collected. That’s money, lying all over the floor, and these guys are too lazy to pick it up. techniques for penis growth

Mainstream comics have long had an arrogant Anglo point of view. All of Marvel’s films are Anglo-centric. At least the Batman film people were savvy enough to put Morgan Freeman front and center, while the Iron Man franchise has utterly wasted both Terrence Howard and Don Cheadle. This sends a message to minority communities, whether or not DC or Marvel realize it.

Look, you’re either a businessman or you’re a fanboy. It’s tough to be both. A businessman sells. He doesn’t just sell to whites. He doesn’ t just sell what he likes. A businessman sells both Coke and Pepsi. A businessman looks for any avenue available to get his product out there. I could be wrong, and I’ll gleefully admit so if someone wants to set me straight. But in twelve years behind desks at Marvel and DC, what I saw from the sales force were white guys talking to white guys about selling to white guys. They were woefully inept at connecting to women or minorities, and, to my knowledge, have never developed strong relationships in black or Latino markets.

The New Black Mambo

Sunday, September 18th, 2011

At some point I was no longer a writer. I had, somehow, become a black writer. This perplexed me, considering the halcyon 80’s, where Marvel was a hotbed of scathing, litigiously un-PC sexism and racism (reference: Rescue Me’s potty-mouthed fire house), I was never seen as a “black” writer. I competed with everybody else, with guys who had much more experience than I, and did the grunt work and odd jobs just like anybody else.

Nobody at DC hired me to reboot Green Lantern in Emerald Dawn because I was a black guy, and Fabian Nicieza seemed to not notice or care about my skin color when he approached me to dream up a Power Man/ Iron Fist-esque buddy book for his startup imprint Acclaim.

Pre-Milestone, the subject just didn’ t come up. Somewhere along the way, Marvel became much more PC and I became inexplicably much blacker.

Essay Is Here