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Friday, May 03, 2002 ( 5/03/2002 02:32:00 PM ) Bill S. WHERE IS THE LIFE OF LATE I LED? - A quick-shot Rhino of the Month was just added to the Pop Music section of oakhaus.com. It's for all you movie musical fans in the room. (Hey, don't be scared - stand up and be counted!) # | ( 5/03/2002 07:38:00 AM ) Bill S. ACT-ING! – Watching a clip of Charlton Heston give the keynote address at the recent NRA convention got me once again feeling irritated about celebrities who try to use their fame to push political agendas This is not meant as a gun control rant: I live in the rural midwest, have friends who both own and are responsible with firearms, so I like to think I’m moderate on this issue. (I’m sure my more conservative friends’d disagree.) This is not a Charlton Heston slam; though the guy’s received much ribbing as an actor over the years, I’ve personally enjoyed many of his movie performances (forget the obvious ones: how about his Cardinal Richelieu in Richard Lester’s Musketeer films?) The matter before me is simple: why should I care any more about Chuck Heston’s political beliefs than I do the guy who rotated my tires yesterday? Entertainers mixing into politics make me surly (yeah, I was an ass through Reagan’s entire presidency). It doesn’t matter which side of the political fence they favor: I find Bono just as maddening as Ted Nugent. I can deal with Martin Sheen playing a quasi-liberal president on television; every time he starts mixing his teevee role w./ his real-life one for the purposes of public speechifying, I tune out. Many folks tend to be more tolerant of those celebs who take a stance that they themselves support; me, I think, shut up and do some real volunteering! My core belief is that any celebrity who takes advantage of their entertainment-crafted public persona to promote an open political agenda deserves to be mocked – mocked often, then told to get back to work. That goes for you, too, Woody Harrelson! # | ( 5/03/2002 04:38:00 AM ) Bill S. “IS HE STRONG, LISTEN BUD . . .” – Reading a review of the Spider-Man soundtrack in Entertainment Weekly, I note that Aerosmith’s been given the responsibility of updating Spidey’s theme song for the album-buying public. Aerosmith?!? Why not utilize the Ramones’ ace cover of the original cartoon show theme (originally done for a kid’s show themes tribute collection but also available as a hidden track on the group’s last studio album, !Adios Amigos!)? Not only is it a great pop-punk version of the song, but I doubt that Steven Tyler ever identified with Peter Parker half as strongly as Joey Ramone did . . . UPDATE - So I’m sitting in the tub after posting the above, and all I can think about is Roy Thomas’ two-line parody from the short-lived DC humor title, Inferior Five: “Cobweb Kid, Cobweb Kid/Does whatever a spider did!” Times like this, I know I’ve spent too brain time reading comics . . . # | ( 5/03/2002 04:10:00 AM ) Bill S. “MISTER. ROBERTS IS DEAD !” – No, wait, that’s Mark Greene, whose passing last night on E.R. was revealed to us in letter form and read by surrogate Ensign Pulver, John Carter, right as the ep opened. A fairly effective gambit (hey, it worked in the Heggen and Logan play), which gave all of the cast members a chance to react in character to Greene’s death: even Paul McCrane’s typically hard-nosed Dr. Romano gave an O.R. rant against the wages of cancer. Sherry Stringfield’s Susan Lewis appeared to receive the most silent camera shots, as we got to watch her silently reflecting on what might’ve been but wasn’t. Maura Tierney's Abby finally descended into boozy behavior, a moment we've been waiting for all season. Yeah, if you’ve at all cared about this show at any time, you probably couldn’t help but get misty over Greene's death from brain cancer. The scene where Noah Wyle’s Carter cleaned out the doc’s locker and took on his stethoscope was probably a bit much, though – would’ve been nicer if Carter’d had a palm tree to trash. So, farewell, Mark, we’ll always remember y – but, wait, there’s another ep next week – a flashback to the character’s final days with his wife and daughter on the beach! Pretty shameless, but I know I’ll watch. Sometimes, you just wanna wallow in some old-fashioned dramatic manipulation. # | Thursday, May 02, 2002 ( 5/02/2002 08:16:00 AM ) Bill S. BABY TALK - In an era where comics companies have been reissuing stuff right and left, DC Comics’ Replica Edition reprint of Sugar and Spike (currently available at all smart comic shops) still stands out. Issued to support the release of a pair of Sugar and Spike soft toys (the doll-boy is now a real doll boy!), the book reprints S&S #1. One of DC’s most successful and best-remembered funnybooks, Sugar and Spike was the work of Sheldon Mayer, a triple-threat writer, artist and editor who’d been working in the field since the Golden Age. Mayer’s creations debuted in the mid-fifties, and aside from a weak kid inventor strip in the back of the book, the humor in that premiere S&S still holds up. Mayer’s conceit is simple (heck, it’s been stolen many times since): Cecil “Spike” Wilson and Sugar Plumm are two babies whose families live next door to each other. They have an active friendship, and though neither one is old enough to speak “grown-up,” they dialog in baby-talk: “the only language that makes any sense.” Basically, the book is about their adventures exploring the world (which frequently doesn’t get much further than the backyard), working to understand their surroundings and typically getting things wrong. Much of the humor is predicated on the idea that rigorous logic is insufficient to solve a problem if you don’t have all the necessary information. Our two protagonists aren’t dummies, just not fully informed (held up to a phone for the first time and hearing his father’s voice, Spike is convinced that he’s somehow gotten into the “yak yak box”), though sometimes their conclusions can be totally on the mark. When Sugar, for instance, learns “No,” her first grown-up word, she explains its meaning to Spike: “It’s a whole sentence by itself! It means, ‘Nothing doing!’ – ‘Lay off!’ – ‘Nix!’ – and ‘Cut it out or I’ll smash you!’” If Mayer were any less of an artist, this stuff’d come across as distressingly cutesy. But his simple, direct cartooning style had a ton of character. Sugar and Spike are cute kids, but they can also be bratty, arrogant, angry, self-impressed and occasionally plain befuddled. They play a role with every adult that they see, pretending to be less capable than they actually are because it allows them to get away with more. When Spike demonstrates that he’s able to stand on two feet, Sugar encourages him to crawl because you can travel farther: “When you crawl, you look like a baby – so they figure: ‘Let ‘im go – he’s only a baby!’” Because it’s the premiere issue, DC’s reprint doesn’t contain all the characters who would later become part of Sugar and Spike’s world, though it still remains a good introduction to Mayer’s delightful series. (Mayer’s art, for instance, is already full-formed, so we don’t have to watch him learning on the job.) But just reading this single issue isn’t enough. On the inner cover of this book is an ad for DC Archives’ series, hardback reprints of comic books from throughout the line’s history. Most of the books in the series to date have been your standard superheroes (Superman, Batman, Flash, Legion of Super-Heroes, et al), but I know I’d buy a set devoted to a run of Sugar and Spike. So what’re ya waiting for, DC? # | Wednesday, May 01, 2002 ( 5/01/2002 09:04:00 AM ) Bill S. BUFFY BUSSES - My writing buddy Karl Neidershuh had the following choice words in a recent email on Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Much as I still enjoy watching the show, I don’t think Karl’s entirely off-the-mark here. Despite this season’s nicely goofy Evil Trio (good comic villains, though my favorite multi-ep bad-guy remains the smarmily cheery Mayor of Sunnydale), Buffy still feels as floundering as its heroine. I’m not sure the directionlessness is fully intentional. Some of the shift in tone can probably be attributed to Marti Noxon’s ascension overseeing the series: the writer seems to have a grimmer edge than creator Joss Whedon (the Anyanka ep where Cordelia inadvertently wishes a grisly parallel Sunnydale is one of hers) which has come to the fore now that the show’s creator has been largely off elsewhere. (Are we ever gonna get to see the series he’s doing with Anthony "Rupert Giles" Head - on BBC America perhaps?) Noxon’s the one, I suspect, responsible for the series’ darker hues. It’s also possible Karl is right with his conclusion. One of the central ironies with series television rests in the conflict we the audience feel between wanting a good show to be aired forever and knowing that there’s no way a level of quality can be maintained in perpetuity. Sometimes you’ve just gotta be able to let go. . . Me, I’m not quite ready yet. (Do I require an intervention?) Last night’s ep, the first new ‘un in weeks, was a mixed bag (took way too long for the hidden camera pay-off to occur), but it provided plenty of choice moments. Best sequence: a righteously p.o.ed Anya reverting to her vengeance demon ways and trying to prompt the other distaff cast members into sharing her rage with scared-off groom Xander Harris – all so one of ‘em will speak the phrase that’ll let her zap the guy. A droll scene made deeper for the way it fit into the ep’s more serious theme: that unintentional hurts cut just as deeply as intentional ones. Plus, with all the droopy relationship stuff, it was good to see Willow and Tara getting back together by the ep’s end. I’m with Karl on the matter of Willow’s non-exclusivity (she did, after all, have a satisfactory relationship with the taciturn Oz), but whatever you may think, her “girl-on-girl” thing with Tara currently has to be the healthiest, most vibrant bonding on the show. Nixon and co. have taken advantage of the show’s UPN perch to let the duo’s mutual attraction more openly flourish (WB, lest we forget, was timid about even letting the two kiss on camera), and I say keep it up! # | Tuesday, April 30, 2002 ( 4/30/2002 09:28:00 AM ) Bill S. CATCHIN’ UP ON CATCHIN’ UP – After skipping a month (I know: too enthralled w./ this web log stuff to meet my other commitments!), I’ve just uploaded a new installment of my Comics Catch-Up. (For those coming in late, I’ve been examining comic book titles that I used to slavishly read – thirteen years after I was last regularly buying ‘em – to see how they currently stack up.) This month’s entry is The Mighty Thor, a title that’s been seeing some big doin’s in the last year or so; next month should be the Dark Knight hisself. . . # | Sunday, April 28, 2002 ( 4/28/2002 10:12:00 AM ) Bill S. MY DOG - Apropos of nothing related to pop culture, I thought I’d mention that the dog in my photo on the right, Ziggy Stardust, is currently in his second week of recuperating from hip surgery. (The head of his left hipbone looked like a cauliflower from calcification, so it had to be removed.) We’ve been slowly upping the distance on walks over the last week or so, but we haven’t gotten all the way back up to our usual park walk. Along with the surgery, we had the dog shaved – to make that one leg look less unbalanced: it’s the first time we’ve done this in the four years that Dusty's been a part of the fam. I’m not a big fan of doggy haircuts (I hate to see poodles at dog shows), but this ‘un is less offensive than most. Still, I’m eagerly awaiting the day my dog gets his full coat back . . . # | ( 4/28/2002 05:35:00 AM ) Bill S. A CASE OF VERTIGO – After three issues of catch-up and false starts, Howard the Duck is finally taking off. Steve Gerber’s Marvel/MAX Comics updating of the duck trapped in a world he never made opens strong with issue #4. Up in Node MV4211E of Heaven, the Religion as Replacement for Thought Coalition (“We’ve rooted out the moderate Jewish, Christian, Islamic and Hindu elements that have tried to infiltrate and corrupt this coalition!” one angel boasts) is introduced, while back in Cleveland our hero duck (temporarily transformed into a mouse) and gal pal Bev Switzer attempt to get a good night’s sleep at the Boarding House of Mystery. The former gives Gerber room to sledgehammer fundamentalists of all stripes (reflecting on “morons willing to fly airplanes into tall buildings on the promise of seventy-two virgins in the afterlife,” one of the angels smirks, “as if there’s a virgin left in this place!”) The latter sets up short-burst parodies of DC’s Vertigo books: including one of his own mini-series (Nevada). Some nicely arch in-joking, even as it puts a boot in Marvel Editor-In-Chief Joe Queseda’s WWF-style competition bashing. For Gerber’s script to work, after all, there’s a presumption that the two mainstream “mature comics” lines share the same readers. (I laughed at the story’s take on Transmetropolitan’s foulmouthed journalist hero – loved all the Philip K. Dick novels scattered throughout the panels.) Gerber’s most incisive writing has frequently been at the expense of other comic books – it’s what he knows – which may be one reason why HTD didn’t translate well into another medium (well, that and a lousy movie script). No matter. I’m enjoying the new series more with each issue. HTD’s worldview is unsubtle and bilious, and the MAX line’s “screw the comics code” ethos is perfectly suited to it. Next issue promises a pastiche of Oprah (another scene that’s brought out the best in Gerber is the self-obsessive/self-help crew); an escapee from the abovementioned heavenly coalition is also slouching its way toward Cleveland. Sounds like a recipe for sacrilegious hilarity! # | |
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