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Saturday, August 09, 2003 ( 8/09/2003 06:33:00 PM ) Bill S. FROM OFF THE STREETS OF CLEVELAND – The August 15th issue of Entertainment Weekly has a six-page color strip, “My Movie Year,” by Harvey Pekar and longtime artist Gary Dumm describing the history of his American Splendor comic and the movie adaptation slated for release across the U.S. this August/September. The autobiographical Clevelander has been doing half-page mini-review strips for the mag for several months now, but this is the first “feature-length comic” that he’s ever had published in a slick national mag. It’s typical Pekar – delivered in his trademark self-deprecating yet assured voice – skidding through the years to arrive at the point where the much-discussed movie adaptation actually comes to fruition. Listening to a “Fresh Air” interview earlier this week with actress Hope Davis (who plays Pekar’s wife/collaborator Joyce Brabner in the flick), I found myself chuckling at her description of Harvey on the set, scrounging up free grub with the cast and crew. In his strip, the writer also describes his near daily visits: “I used to go down to the set frequently because I liked hanging out with the cast and crew and getting free eats.” Which, I guess, goes to show how close to the mark his comics really are. I’m looking forward the film. In a year that’s seen too many half-baked comic book adaptations, American Splendor promises to be the real deal. Two trade collections of Pekar’s work have been re-released recently to go along with the movie buzz: one, American Splendor: The Life and Times of Harvey Pekar, reprints the first two collections of Pekar’s comics from the late seventies/early eighties (American Splendor and More American Splendor), while the second, The New American Splendor Anthology, contains more recent work by the man. Both books are recommended, as is Bob & Harv’s Comics, devoted just to Pekar’s collaborations with cartoonist R. Crumb. (Commenting on James Urbaniak’s portrayal of Crumb in the film, Pekar notes: “Some people thought, based on Terry Zwigoff’s excellent documentary of Crumb, that he was kind of a cold guy. But he was always warm, understanding and helpful to me. I thought James caught that side of him very well.”) All three collections are remarkably consistent: the works of a man unsentimentally inspired by the beauty and humor of mundane day-to-day life. Where mainstream comics typically parcel out creative responsibilities, Pekar is unique among alt-comics creators who more often handle both their own writing and illustrating. Of the artists who’ve worked with him, Crumb, Gary Dumm and former undergrounder Frank Stack have arguably had the most successful collaborations, capturing his hangdog characters and Cleveland setting so convincingly that most longtime readers are wondering if the movie’ll be able to suitably replicate ‘em. From what I hear, the filmmakers are successful, though they’ve reportedly taken liberties with the material, compacting plot details to better “manage” Pekar’s sprawling life story. A lot of regular comic book readers don’t get Pekar, finding him either too meandering or trivial or self-obsessed (or all three). Perhaps – but he’s also cantankerously funny, wise and has an eye for material that no one else in comics quite sees. He’s a master at capturing the way people talk and present themselves, and if you’re unfamiliar with his work, the EW strip provides a good, breezy introduction to his wooly brand of graphic storytelling. # | ( 8/09/2003 08:58:00 AM ) Bill S. ALARMS AND DIVERSIONS – With the growth of the Comics Blogosphere now comes a series of dispatches from the Chicago Wizard World convention courtesy of Sean Collins. Don’t you hate it when some doubtless-drunk conventioneer pulls the middle-of-the-night false fire alarm? Brings back bad memories of living in a college dorm. Speaking of Wizard, one of the prevailing non-stories circling in the past week or so has been one pertaining to allegations that Marvel Comics planted a series of phony new contract rumors to dampen rival DC’s planned announcements at this con. Alan David Doane has an interview with writer Mark Millar on his site that effectively throws a damp towel on these meta-rumors, so if you haven’t read it yet, why not go now? Me, I’ve gotta force myself to spend the rest of today’s computer time on some cybersoaping. # | Friday, August 08, 2003 ( 8/08/2003 03:17:00 PM ) Bill S. REFERRAL OF THE MONTH – Coolest Google referral to this site that I’ve seen in weeks: “Adrienne Barbeau hairstyle.” Gotta admit, I used to have a thing for Maude’s daughter. . . # | ( 8/08/2003 11:10:00 AM ) Bill S. THE SINISTER CABAL CONTINUES – Hearty congratulations to Blogcritics for reaching its first anniversary. I’ve been contributing to the site almost as long (looking at the site’s archives, I see that my first posting occurred on August 16th) and have carried on this practice today by posting the previous Kirby piece this morning. Blogcritics’ 300-plus critics are definitely a diverse lot, particularly on the political front: with a few of the more prolific ones staking out their own private turf in the Cultural Wars (Al Barger: Quickdraw Conservative; Jim Carruthers: Jokingly Opaque Lefty, and so on). If nothing else, sitemaster Eric Olsen’s creation stands as strong proof of this simple critical truism: even a writer who is your ideological opposite can show you good stuff about an artist that s/he loves (c.f. Barger’s periodic reviews of Elvis Costello and Zappa cuts – though I still contend Al misses the point of “Brown Shoes Don’t Make It.”) Here’s to an even stronger Year Two! # | ( 8/08/2003 09:41:00 AM ) Bill S. "KIRBY SAYS: 'DON’T ASK! JUST BUY IT!'" – In the first place, this is not the volume to give to someone you're trying to coach on the New Mature Graphic Storytelling. No, this is a book for someone so enmeshed in the givens of old school comic books that they reflexively refer to its greatest superhero artist as Jack "King" Kirby. Jimmy Olsen: Adventures by Jack Kirby (DC) is the first of two volumes of Kirby work done on the Superman series. Originally produced in the early seventies, after the artist had acrimoniously fled the comics company where he’d co-created many of its most enduring characters (Fantastic Four, the Hulk, X-Men, et al), the Olsen stories were some of the first works fans would get to see of this comics legend on his own. Unlike the Marvel books, where Kirby’s name was more consistently aligned with Stan Lee – or even the Golden Age of Comics, where he collaborated with Joe Simon on works like the WWII Captain America – this was All Kirby. In addition to penciling the books, the King also plotted and scripted the material. In the case of Jimmy Olsen, the results were decidedly mixed. There are all sorts of stories on the reasons Kirby debuted on this decidedly minor DC title (some of which are recounted by onetime Kirby employee Mark Evanier in the collection's intro), but whatever the behind-the-scenes, the end product was undeniably strange. DC was so provincially protective of its Superman cast that when they saw the first results, they pulled in some of their regular artists (Murphy Anderson most consistently) to redo the Man of Steel and cub reporter Olsen’s faces. The images aren’t as awkward as they could’ve been, but you can still tell the difference. In approaching his first DC title, Kirby the scriptwriter essentially tossed Jimmy’s longstanding characterization as a callow, egocentric youth and remade him as action guy. All the comic relief (something fans expected from a Jimmy Olsen title more than they did, say, Batman) was provided by the Newsboy Legion, an updated second-generation version of Simon & Kirby characters whose heyday was the forties. The original Newsboys were a quartet of street urchins, modeled after the Dead End Kids, who battled Nazis on the streets of New York. Of course, each of the New Newsies was a duplicate of his father (Gabby, Big Words, Tommy and Scrapper – you can already tell what each one did in the group, can't you?) In addition to this foursome, the culturally sensitive creator added a fifth: a black kid named Flipper Dipper (or alternately: Flippa Dippa), who was obsessed with scuba diving. You get a lot of panels with poor ol’ Flip, standing around awkwardly in his wet suit, lamenting the fact that they’re nowhere near the water. Olsen and the Newsboys hook up after the young reporter’s new duplicitous boss Morgan Edge sends ‘em all via a typical space-hogging Kirbyesque vehicle called the Whiz Wagon into the Wild Area – a hitherto unmentioned realm populated by motorcycle commune called the Outsiders and a mysterious group known as the Hairies. (Can’t help wondering: did they select that name themselves?) Kirby’s attempts at wrestling with youth culture slanguage circa 1970 provides much unintentional comedy (“Our life style is ‘wheels!’ This bag belongs to the ‘Hairies!’”), but his imagery and throw-everything-you-can-think-of-onto-the-page aesthetic still provide heaps of pleasure. Whatever his limitations as a scripter, Kirby remained unmatched as a visual imagineer. The Olsen crew's trip into the Wild Area leads them through a Zoomway packed with photo collage psychedelia, than to a secret underground government project where military scientists have broken the genetic code. For some strange reason, the Hairy scientists have chosen to duplicate Olsen and the Newsboys. No, I don’t know why these guys were chosen, but it gives Kirby the opportunity to show us a microscope slide of tiny Jimmys (each with miniature panties) and a later sequence where a bound Newsie sees a Lilliputian version of himself straddling his pug nose. With Kirby, plot sense frequently took a back seat to spectacle (you can see why filmmakers like the Wachowski Bros. have adopted him as their patron saint) and never more so than in the Jimmy Olsen books. Once our heroes make their way to the Project, we’re introduced to a new crew of rival villains: the alien scientists of the planet Apokolips, who’ve stolen Project DNA samples to create their own nefarious creatures. First up: a giant-sized green-skinned Jimmy Olsen (but of course!), who rampages through the Project shouting “Kill to live! Kill! Kill!” Next: a four-armed “DNAlien,” who also does its best to trash the complex. What’s the point? Basically, to give Kirby an excuse to engage in Hulk-styled battle graphics. I love these tales for their goofiness and robustness. (Haven’t even mentioned the two-parter that ends this volume, co-starring Don Rickles and a costumed doppleganger named Goody Rickels. It’s packed with more non-sequitars than a Dadaist Manifesto – the real-life Rickles was reportedly not amused – and a thoroughly nonsensical plot originally designed to put Rickles in the same room as the Man of Steel so he could insult him . . . but it never happens.) Like I say, this is definitely not the stuff you want to pull out if you’re trying to convince a would-be girl or boyfriend you’re not a hopeless case for reading comic books. These pages are pure (to use cartoonist Scott Shaw!’s exceedingly valuable label) Oddball. And boyishly entertaining for it. Can’t wait for Volume Two. UPDATE: Mark Evanier adds some insights to this review from his time spent working with Kirby. I should also note that Mark's site has a bountiful section devoted to the man and his work. # | Thursday, August 07, 2003 ( 8/07/2003 07:37:00 AM ) Bill S. SPEAKING WITH FORKED – AH, YOU KNOW – In an even more cutting edge decision, today our governor signed a bill restricting the practice of tongue splitting! About time someone had the guts to speak out against that wholesale barbaric act! # | ( 8/07/2003 07:21:00 AM ) Bill S. BIG HEAT, PLAIN SCRATCH – Just a quick note to state that, as far as I’m concerned, J.M. Straczynski’s use of Nick Lowe’s “Cruel to Be Kind” in the opening pages of Supreme Power (MAX) is all the reason the book needs to exist. # | ( 8/07/2003 06:40:00 AM ) Bill S. REDENBACHER REDUX – I was gonna write a snide posting this week about the California Recall foolishness, but this week my state governor signed a proclamation declaring popcorn the official Snack of the State of Illinois, so I decided to just skip it. # | Wednesday, August 06, 2003 ( 8/06/2003 08:56:00 AM ) Bill S. CONTEMPORARY COMMUNITY STANDARDS, MY ASS – Had an indignant piece written yesterday about the Jesus Castillo case, but the dog ate my homework/my computer crashed before I could save it. (Yes, I know to save regularly, but sometimes you just get into the flow of writing!) Anyway, as most of the comics sites and weblogs have been noting, the U.S. Supreme Court yesterday refused to hear an appeal on Texas Vs. Castillo, an obscenity case wherein a Dallas comic shop manager was busted for selling an adult comic to an adult undercover cop. The title, a manga adaptation of the anime series Demon Beast Invasion, was sold in a special “Adults Only” section of the store, but prosecutors made a major issue of the fact that the store itself, Keith’s Comics, was located near a school. The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund stepped in to provide funds and counsel for Castillo (their most recent press release on this story can be found here), who has been fined $4,000 and given a six month suspended sentence plus a year’s probation for his “crime.” Let’s repeat the basic point of this case: Castillo sold the book, an erotic manga, to another adult. At no point in the case did prosecutors assert that this material was being sold to kids, just that it was being sold near children. As the prosecution noted in its closing: “I don’t care what type of evidence or what type of testimony is out there, use your rationality, use your common sense. Comic books, traditionally what we think of, are for kids. This is in a store directly across from an elementary school and it is put in a medium, in a forum, to directly appeal to kids. That is why we are here, ladies and gentlemen. … We’re here to get this off the shelf.”Again, the main issue is one of proximity. It’d be like Dallas cops busting Barnes & Noble for selling a D.H. Lawrence novel to a college student just because the store also has a kids’ books section. And say all you want about comics “growing up” as an art form, clearly to a significant chunk of the populace comics remain kids’ stuff. Even though Castillo’s defense brought in a trio of expert witnesses to testify to the contrary, all the prosecution had to do was appeal to that preconception under the guise of “common sense” and the words of a bunch of pointy-headed intelleckshals didn’t amount to a hill of beans. Comics are for kids – end story. Makes you wonder how the Zap! crowd might’ve fared in Texas if they’d been brought in for Bob Crumb’s infamous “Joe Blow” strip. # | Tuesday, August 05, 2003 ( 8/05/2003 10:47:00 AM ) Bill S. “YOU SORRY JUNKIE BEATNIKS AIN’T GOT NOTHING ON ME” – Just posted the summer entry of my ongoing Seasonal Rhinos appreciation: the Handmade collection of Rank and File’s The Slash Years. More cultish musical goodness, that’ll hopefully spark somebody’s interest. . . # | ( 8/05/2003 07:34:00 AM ) Bill S. THE FIFTEEN-MINUTE COMIC – It’s a hard and brutish world, especially if you’ve been reading some of the same comics I’ve been over the last week: from Garth Ennis’ raping-&-pillaging Vikings to Diggle or Ellis’ former gummint agents pursued by the country they once so nobly served (you think that’s bad, boys, try getting veteran’s benefits!), the only way to survive is to be way tough. Too much of this stuff, and I’m looking for an issue of Peanutbutter And Jeremy. The Losers (Vertigo) #1 and 2: How well you’ll take Diggle & Jock(?)’s version of Spies on the Lam may depend on your tolerance for left wing paranoia: in issue two, our small cadre of “officially dead” operatives take on a large tanker used by a corrupt CIA to run drugs and finance dirty ops. (We know the Agency’s been doing this since Iran-Contra, team leader Clay helpfully exposits.) Me, I’m enjoying the actual moments of spy stuff but find Diggle’s attempts at between-action characterization to be pretty flat. Like our heroes, neither he nor Jock seem to know quite what to do when they’re not in the thick of things, so we get the group clown going after the unattainable female Loser in place of anything meaningful. I like the two-page spread where the gang’s fishing boat is shown up alongside the massive target oil tanker that’s their target. May not make any real plot sense for them to get so close to the Goliath this early in the caper, but it sure looked neat. . .Also Briefly Noted: Looks like it’s Jason Todd Month in Bat Country (see Batman #617 for latest sighting). But didn’t Frank Miller already play the Robin card in DK2 – or are DC’s editors counting on the fact that many Bat Readers still don’t understand what was going in that grand mess of a mini-series? . . . The Kolins/Hazlewood art team departs from Flash with #200 – and with it goes my primary reason for following this title. The way they segue into new artist Alberto Dose is pretty clever, but, c’mon, is Wally West really a rain-drenched noir guy? . . . On the basis of all the dismayed fannish reactions to news that Chuck Austen may be taking over a Superman title, it appears as if the guy has become the present generation’s Bill Mantlo; I’ve found his work on the Superman: Metropolis to be less offensive than some treatments, so I don’t think it’s the end of the world (hey, he’s managed to make Jimmy Olsen interesting again – when’s the last time that occurred?) . . . Sweatshop’s cancelled, just as its most recent issue (#4) shows scripter Bagge hitting his stride (the dating sequence with Alfred and Nick approaches the level of a pre-marriage Buddy Bradley strip). Could do without Johnny (“Gaytriot”) Ryan’s art on the story, which only suggests Bagge without ever capturing his manic energy. . . More next week, and, remember, it’s a bad-ass world out there – so Keep Yer Guard Up! # | Monday, August 04, 2003 ( 8/04/2003 05:59:00 PM ) Bill S. SIMILE OF THE MONTH – As heard (for the first time by me) on The Essential Shawn Mullins (Legacy), “Santa Fe”: “She was grinding like the gears on a Pacer.”Good old American Motors: first car I ever owned was a used AMC Pacer – which probably makes that line funnier for me than it does for you . . . # | ( 8/04/2003 10:04:00 AM ) Bill S. I’M PISSED THAT THEY DIDN’T KEEP LINDA FIORENTINO, TOO – Caught Men in Black II on HBO Saturday night. Now it’s Monday, and there’s very little I can dredge up about it except the fact that Michael Jackson looks more convincing as an alien than much of Rick Baker’s makeup. I also recall thinking, “They’ve rewritten Jewel of the Nile!" (yet another watchable let-down sequel) near the end of the flick. # | Sunday, August 03, 2003 ( 8/03/2003 10:07:00 AM ) Bill S. BOOT PRINTS AND BLOOD WORK – When USA Network started advertising its detective/western series, Peacemakers, the hype-men were all over the “Western C.S.I.” comparison (it’s a top-rated show – who can blame ‘em?) Yet when I first heard of the new Tom Berenger series, the first show that popped into my head was Hec Ramsey. Part of the old Sunday night NBC Mystery Movie bloc that also gave us Columbo, Quincy and MacMillan and Wife, Ramsey starred former Paladin Richard Boone as a canny Old West lawman as adept with forensic sleuthing as he was gun-fighting. The series ran for two years in the seventies and is not as well remembered as some of the era’s more durable mystery series, but its central premise – cowboy coppers utilizing this newfangled science stuff to unravel murder cases – was the same. The biggest thematic difference: where an elder Boone took the role of forensic cheerleader in the earlier series, Berenger’s established lawman is the one who has to be tutored in this new means of law enforcement by the young ‘uns. Set in the 1880’s in a typical backlot Colorado mining town, Peacemakers centers around the trio of Marshal Jared Stone (Berenger), former Pinkerton man Larimer Finch (Peter O’Meara) and comely mortician Katie Owen (Amy Carlson). It’s Finch, a missionary’s son who has been trained at Scotland Yard, who comes equipped with all the scientific knowledge: when the town’s founder is discovered garroted in a private railroad car, he’s sent to Silver City to investigate the case. This leads to the inevitable territorial pissing with town Marshal Stone, who has also begun to investigate the murder, though since we’re watching the pilot, we’re pretty certain that the two’ll mend this breach before the initial ninety minutes are up. Stone may not know much about fingerprinting, but he’s observant enough to recognize a unique boot print at the scene of the crime. And while Silver City may be out in the boonies, as one sign boasts, it’s also “the only town west of the Mississippi with its own telephone exchange.” Clearly, we’re in that rarefied realm of television westernland where no one shows the least bit of resistance to progress and the town’s sole black man is allowed to shoot a thuggish white henchman without anyone saying a thing about it. Still, I bought Berenger as the laconic pipe-smoking Marshal, and O’Meara as the callow new age detective (Carlson’s perky mortician was a stretch, but she’s more watchable than, oh, Kim Delaney’s grumpy Florida C.S.I.er). The premiere tips its hand midway into its ninety-minute story, but even then I remained intrigued as our protagonists teased out murder and motive. In sterling western tradition, the latter revolves around a land snatch (insert Blazing Saddles quote here), and there's a pretty nifty train chase 'n' fight in the climax to boot. And, yes, we do get a suitably bloody forensics scene, too, something you’d have never seen in the old NBC Mystery Movie days. All in all, a diverting summer offering. And if you must go with the C.S.I. comparison, it sure beats watching the third rerun of that David Caruso’s spin-off’s first season. . . # | ( 8/03/2003 05:02:00 AM ) Bill S. DEATH TO THE UNI-BROW – Have caught three eps of Bravo’s new ode to conspicuous consumption, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, and also read several pieces pondering whether the series reinforces the same ol’ stereotypes. (Okay, people, it’s not Reality Television; it’s Reality Television!) Personally, I’ve found the show droll, but after watching one of the Fab Five’s rehab jobs doling out pâté on a platter of truffles, I started wondering Where’s Queer Eye for the Broke Straight Guy? # | |
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