Saturday, December 28, 2013

Why Fans Should Suck It Up About Comic Book Movies

Recently, I came across an article from a conservative blogger about how he'd elected to never spend another dime on superhero films because Hollywood, at every turn, has completely raped his childhood and made the superheroes he grew up completely unbearable and he's not going to take it anymore.  Now, I'm acknowledging ahead of time that his blog post is mostly poorly argued and unresearched (which is the most I should probably expect from what is basically the Fox News version of my own blog), but his complaints are not uncommon among the fickle and sometimes downright hateful mob that is comic fandom. Granted, I understand why people would complain that studios are better off sticking closer to the source material. After all, NOBODY wants another Jonah Hex or X-Men: The Last Stand. Still, here a few things this guy....as well as a lot of fans....should consider.

1). Faithfulness to the source material does NOT always equate to a good movie. I mean, for a commendable project that packed tons of material into a two hour movie, Watchmen was such an imitation (despite some people having perfect bodies when they shouldn't, but....Hollywood) that it was practically hermetically sealed in its original comic packaging. And even still, it was met with mixed reviews among critics and fans. Tim Story's Fantastic Four was moderately close the comic (MODERATELY...except for Doctor Doom being a superpowered Donald Trump analog) and even that was considered mainly a failed attempt.

Green Lantern pretty much hit all the bullet points required of the Geoff Johns-ified version of Hal Jordan's (except for Movie Hal Jordan being a complete pussy) origin story and yet it still managed to be chastised as one of the worst comic movies of the past five years. Also, it eventually leads to fans complaining that they're not seeing anything they've never seen before. For years, Superman loyalists have whined and whined that we haven't seen anything out of those movies (until Man of Steel) that we've never seen before ("Really, Lex Luthor again???"). Now, I think that they're asking a LOT from Superman's list of villains, but they also have a point in the fact that remaining too close to what comic fans know doesn't do anything to add to the mythology of the hero in question. Taking an entire comic book and pasting onto the silver screen doesn't always lead to success. This leads to my next point......

2). New ideas from directors have been known to enhance comic book lore. When directors are allowed to toy with certain aspects of the source material, THAT is when innovation happens. People bitch and moan about X-Men all the time. Some people don't like Hugh Jackman's Wolverine because historically, Wolverine is a short, hairy guy who likes beer. This is entertaining enough for a comic book until you realize that if you translate that same description to a movie storyboard where you have cast a REAL actor, the person you're describing is Danny Devito.

I wasn't kidding. Giant smoke kraken.
Honestly, Green Lantern could have stood some outside innovation from Martin Campbell (except maybe not making Parallax out to be a former Green Lantern turned giant smoke kraken). General Zod was essentially a throwaway villain from an obscure issue of Adventure Comics until Richard Donner brought him to the forefront in Superman II. Furthermore, even though it was always canon that he was a small town kid, it wasn't really established that Clark Kent was raised on a farm in Kansas until Donner's movie placed Smallville in Kansas. Gotham City wasn't a perpetually gray, crime infested wasteland of art nouveau and towering gothic cathedrals until Tim Burton and Anton Furst designed it that way. More often than not, it takes a movie, something absorbed by the collective consciousness (comic nerds and casual moviegoers alike) to establish baseline characteristics for a superhero or their surroundings which simultaneously why Robert Downey Jr. IS Iron Man for the forseeable future and why DC could only benefit from making a Wonder Woman movie.

3). Once a comic becomes a movie, it's not exclusively yours anymore. You know who understands concepts like this? Children. When my friends and I played make believe Power Rangers, it was easy. There were commonly six of us and there were five Power Rangers (the Mighty Morphin days....Sweet Jesus, I'm old) so, except for the inevitable argument over who would be the Green Ranger, it was simple. Then, someone else would come along and want to play with us. Now, the likelihood of them wanting to be Zordon, the giant, omniscient floating head that told the Rangers to do shit was slim to none (although, in retrospect, when I put it that way, why the FUCK didn't I ever want to be Zordon), so they wanted to be a Ranger, too. Despite there only being six Rangers, there were, of course, more than six colors in the spectrum of colors, so fuck it. Little Amy can be the Violet Ranger and she can have a giant Velociraptor robot. Peace was maintained and playtime could continue.

The moral of that little story was that when other people want to be a part of what you're into, you have to share. In this day and age, movie adaptations are ideally the sign that a larger audience (Hollywood, non comic nerds, kids, whatever) wants to be in on what was once a very niche fiction of, at it's best, a million readers. Nerds (I'm guilty of this, too) have to understand that it's inevitable that when something becomes popular enough, corporate America will create a medium where it can be consumed by anyone. This happens with rap, spoken word, art house film-making, etc. Comic books aren't immune. The sad truth is that if Hollywood can fail us by keeping Channing Tatum in movies and allowing James Cameron to make Avatar sequels, it's not too farfetched that they would fuck up Ghost Rider and Elektra.

In summary....SUCK IT UP.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

The Goddamn Batman Problem.....

So, I was catching up on New 52 Batman recently. As hard as I am on the reboot material coming out of DC for the past couple of years, I actually really enjoy Scott Snyder's work on Batman. He really has a penchant for Snyder-ising a lot of well-known aspects of the Bat-mythos and making them feel undiscovered. His "Court of Owls" story arc was particularly engaging while still exciting and fast paced. But there was one particular plot point that bothered me, though.

In his fight to defeat the Court of Owls conspiracy threatening to envelop Gotham from the inside, Batman had to exploit the weakness of their nigh-indestructable "talon" assassin agents (imagine ninjas who dress like owls) which has to do with extreme cold. Obviously, this led to the Bat-family having a brief run in with Mr. Freeze. While his driving motivation is still his beloved icicle of a wife, Nora, this retconned version of Victor Fries has actually never met Nora and is just a lonely man who became obsessed with her during his early days of researching cryogenics. Batman recounts this story to exploit as a weakness and, of course, beat Freeze. It was a decent, well-written story, but it also sheds light on my biggest problem with contemporary Batman.

The thing about Batman villains is a lot of the really good ones tend to have a sort of driving force that gives the reader a way to connect and, sometimes, sympathize with them. Granted, this isn't exclusively Batman territory, but Mister Freeze was definitely a character who, over the years, has been particularly popular because of his understandable motivations. Despite being released as a straight to video animated feature (probably because the "Batman and Robin" movie still had a stink on it so strong, it may have been mistaken for actual chemical warfare), SubZero was a very well received movie essentially about Supervillain John Q, a guy trying to save someone he loved and was willing to be an asshole to do it.

This was interesting, but not only because it adds depth to the bad guy. Ideally, it adds some layers to the good guy. Batman actually had to understand someone's motives outside of "because I'm an asshole, that's why." More often than not, during the time of "The Animated Series," Batman went out of his way to still try to save his foes when outside variables seemed to fall apart. By the time he met Animated Series Superman, this gave them something to have in common despite varying methods of getting the job done.

The whole point of the World's Greatest Detective is that he's smart and physically capable, but he's still just a man and, in his own way, serves as not only Gotham's protector, but its conscience as well. The Batman Problem comes when you do things like reduce Mister Freeze, a villain with depth, to a delusional dickhead who never had hugs as a kid just so Batman can look tougher and "above it all" when he beats his ass. In fact, if you look closely, he spends a lot more time outsmarting and looking tough in front of his own Justice League teammates than he does the bad guys You can even see it in the Dark Knight trilogy (although I loved those movies) where Batman's code about not killing holds up....until he kills someone (Ra's Al Ghul, Two Face, Talia). Even though it's awesome at times, the Problem is that Batman has gone from a badass Sherlock Holmes analog with a roguish attitude to the New Chuck Norris.


I would also like to point out that the same nerds who think Batman is awesome because he's seemingly all powerful, unbeatable and omniscient are the same nerds who chastise Superman for being seemingly all powerful, unbeatable and omniscient (in other words, Superman haters, your argument is invalid).

I could throw a digital rock out into the internet and hit millions of memes that all pretty much reduce Batman to Punch'emInTheFuckingFace Man. I was watching a commercial promoting the Arkham Origins video game and it was comprised primarily of Bruce Wayne growing up 1). scowling and 2). beating the unholy shit out of people until he became Batman scowling and beating the unholy shit out of people.

Don't get me wrong....it makes for some really fun action more often than not, but it also cheapens a character capable of so much more which is evident, by the way, in Long Halloween and Year One. Honestly, this is why I'm actually very excited about Superman's upcoming team-up with the Caped Crusader in Man of Steel 2: Superhero Boogaloo. This is a chance for one of Batman's peers (who is pretty much the epitome of superhero morality) to show him something about moral discernment, something we didn't see much of in the Dark Knight movies because Batman had to be portrayed as knowing better than everyone else even though he really didn't (seriously....WHY THE FUCK DID HE TAKE THE BLAME FOR COLD BLOODED MURDER????....They could have easily blamed all that shit on the Joker....I mean, they're lying either way, so.....).

Oh, and by the way.....I'm completely fine with Ben Affleck Batman. Fight among yourselves, internet.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

In Defense of Darkman or....Superhero Movies Hollywood Could Learn Something From

With this year in superhero films wrapped up, Marvel ready to shove out their new batch and DC getting everyone's mouths watering with Arrow being a breakout success (despite mixed reviews from fanboys) their Flash television pilot, and of course the several rumors and announcements behind the casting of Man of Steel 2: The Steel Strikes Back, I thought I'd pull a few movies with cult success (despite questionable box office numbers) out of the vault and take a brief look at some of the lessons modern comic book cinema could take from them

Darkman: It sort of saddens me that we're quickly approaching (if we're not already in the midst of) a generation that will never know the glory that is Darkman. When you watch Sam Raimi's first jump into the superhero genre, it's actually a big insight into why he got tapped for the Spider-Man series in the first place. Even though, at first glance, it comes across as a teenager's ultraviolent fantasy, it's actually very indicative of what many comics were at the fringes of early comic culture: melodramatic pulp adventure. A psychotic, disfigured scientist returns from "death" to take revenge on the mobsters and crooked officials responsible? If Darkman had originated as a comic book hero, the story itself would have been more of a horror story than anything and Raimi has a far better understanding of the comic book genre than anyone gives him credit for. The movie made absolutely NO apologies for the fact that Peyton Westlake was more or less just a really demented guy who a). wanted his face back and b). wanted to kill a lot of people (basically what would happen if someone set Kanye West on fire).

Moral of the Story: The lesson that Current Hollywood can (and should but won't) take from this movie is that every superhero film doesn't have to be one of virtue because not every superhero is a virtuous one nor should they be. This is where the Punisher and Ghost Rider movies went wrong (well, they went wrong a LOT of places...Nic Cage being a notable one....but virtue was prime among their sins).


The Phantom: Now, here's a movie that holds a very special place in my heart while many others have forgotten about for understandable reasons. The 1989 Batman was something of a game changer for superhero movies. When Jack Nicholson's Joker uttered the line "Where does he get those wonderful toys?"....his reaction was one that turned out to mirror the audience's. I mean, for the time in which it was conceived, watching a hero swing onto rooftops, lob smoke bombs and evade the law in a tricked out car was pretty goddamned exciting. Then, you find yourself watching a period piece about hero you mainly only know from the comics section of your newspaper. So, needless to say, Lee Falk's jungle hero had the odds against him right out of the gate. He was an Indiana Jones-type hero at a time when moviegoers had decided they were pretty much over Indiana Jones.



Having said that, there's a lot to learn from The Phantom. First of all, there's Billy Zane's performance. With a period piece like this, it's importance not to take yourself too seriously. Zane went a different way than what would be expected from a story about a mythical hero who lives in a secret jungle surrounded by tree people who revere him as a living ghost protector. Let's face it...if you go dark and play the Phantom like a guy He dashed to and fro, punching and shooting with a wink, a smile and a "pardon me, ma'am" at every turn. We call this kind of shit "cheesy" and "hamfisted" nowadays, but it's also the sort of thing that makes us smile and induces a feeling of escape which is what we commonly go to the movies for in the first place.

One of the best "quiet as kept" scenes is when Phantom is chasing thugs who've kidnapped Kristy Swanson (By the way, Diana Palmer's awesomeness dwarfs pretty much EVERY incarnation of Lois Lane except maybe Amy Adams in Man of Steel), bumps into a woman by mistake, stops to pick up her purse like a gentleman and goes on to leap from car to car in traffic, steal a cop's horse, riding off in hot pursuit....LIKE A FUCKING BOSS.

Moral of the Story: The thing that should really translate well here for Current Hollywood is that every hero doesn't have to be edgy and dark. Granted, Ghost Rider really should be which is why that failed, but there's no reason modern day swashbucklers can't be fun.


The Rocketeer: For a movie that doesn't really get the credit it's due, maintaining a 63% rating on Rotten Tomatoes isn't exactly anything to sneeze at. Unfortunately, it suffered from the same societal epidemics as The Phantom where a). if a movie didn't open and sellout in every theater worldwide like Dark Knight or The Avengers recently, it's automatically dismissed as a failure (keep in mind that several failures have done very well in the box office in the same way as when you go home with the guy at the bar who seems to mean well only to wake up once you're sober and say "What the fuck was I thinking?"....I'm looking at you, Transformers 2 & 3) and b). was portraying a sort of bare bones "everyman" hero in the era of Batman.

In many ways, this was a movie that Hollywood, in fact, may just have learned something from for better or worse. I mean, honestly, Rocketeer was the epitome of a period-piece hero epic. A douchebag test pilot finds Howard Hughes experimental jet pack, battles "G-men", the mob, and Nazis all for the love of Jennifer Connelly's boobs? That pretty much sums up American propaganda heroes of the 1930's. For all intents and purposes, this was something of a blueprint that would later make the way for asshole superheroes like Robert Downey Jr.'s Iron Man. One of the big highlights from this movie that deserves consideration (aside from a delightfully fun Timothy Dalton villain) is the dialed back usage of special effects. Don't get me wrong; it's not like they tied Bill Campbell to a big rope the whole time and told him to holler in front of a house fan the whole time, but Peter Travers had it right when he referred to it's movie magic as "the kind that charms us, rather than bullying us, into suspending disbelief."

Moral of the Story: On one hand, when you have movies about gods with magic hammers, giant green beasts, asshole space cops with magic wishing rings and....well, Superman...it's hard for visuals NOT to be a contributing factor to their success. On the other hand, special effects don't have to subtract from the story's personality. Joss Whedon understands this pretty well. So does Rocketeer director Joe Johnston which is probably why Marvel ended up tapping him to direct Captain America, which, in addition to being a pretty damn good origin story, ended up being a terrific send up of old Republic serials.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

The Art of Snapping or Maybe Cyclops WAS Right.....

I'm apologizing in advance because I have to talk about Ghostbusters II for a second. In Ghostbusters II, Bill Murray and company had to fight a demonic overlord trapped in a painting who was dumping slime into the sewers that turned all of New York into assholes who are awful to each other for no reason (though I'm still not sure how he did that from inside of a painting). Basically, he meant to take over the world by turning NYC in the center of all evil. In other words, Dallas. Watching this movie as a kid has clearly affected my state of mind now because it is my genuine belief that comment sections online are basically the focal point of all digital evil on the World Wide Web. Having said all that, sometimes, when I'm on the internet reading articles and I'm feeling very adventurous, I'll put on my hazmat suit and dive into random comment sections. Why, you ask? Because fuck it, that's why?

Anyway, one of the biggest criticisms I've read this year in comment sections and message boards is about the direction in which Marvel has taken Cyclops and it got me thinking about why. I mean, Marvel's whole thing is that their characters tend to live a little closer to the human condition of the everyman while a lot of DC characters tend to be more static archetypes. Even though Uncanny X-Men is, thus far, serving a purpose similar to Dark Avengers from a few years back during the "Dark Reign" event, Cyclops didn't " go bad" necessarily.

You're Scott Summers. You haven't looked anyone in the eye since you hit puberty. You've been raised by a kind, well-meaning man who wishes for peace between humans and mutants while training you to fight giant robot death machines since you were 15 years old. You're basically the quintessential All-American captain of the football team for mutantkind. As time goes on and you grow into an adult, people from the future you've been taught to fight for come to the present day and basically tell you that you eventually fail. You watch your wife (who is basically your high school sweetheart) silently fawn over your hairy, homicial teammate. That same wife died, came back to life as a world-swallowing space god, died and came back to life and died AGAIN. Eventually, the race of people you're sworn to protect are magically dwindled down to barely enough to reach full capacity at Chick-Fil-A. Now, you're an endangered species living an island that's pretty much a reservation. At some point, that same world swallowing space god possesses you and you convince yourself that you're righting your dead wife's wrong by healing the world. Then, it drives you power mad and you kill Charles Xavier, your only father figure, in cold blood and you're thrown in jail. Cyclops didn't "turn evil." He snapped. Plain and simple.

It's not even a new phenomenon in Marvel. Take the Ultimate Universe, for example. Early on in Ultimate Spider-Man, Nick Fury confessed to having a file on Peter Parker because with everything that had happened to him and his family over the years (father killed in a Hulk attack, father's best friend's son becomes Venom, Uncle Ben, Norman Osborn, etc.), he was the most likely to snap and become the next big supervillain. Of course, Ultimate Peter Parker didn't snap. In fact, he went on to die in the service of not snapping and being exactly the kind of guy Uncle Ben wanted him to be (although I can't help but wonder if that's because Black Fury also said "When you turn 18, you're mine"....turns out that guy's a lying piece of shit in EVERY dimension). Meanwhile, Ultimate Reed Richards had endured equally fucked up circumstances (piece of shit father, being responsible for unintentionally wiping out another dimension, turning his best friends into a monster, his girlfriend being an indecisive ass, Doom, etc.) and, while nobody was looking, turned into the next big supervillain, almost wiping out humanity at least twice. You don't necessarily like or forgive the character for it, but you get it.

The same thing applies for others like the Norman and Harry Osborn, whose Green Goblin incarnations are completely about regular people just plain losing it in the face of bad shit happening. Brian Michael Bendis' run on Daredevil, which has turned out to be one of the most definitive eras in DD history other than Frank Miller's, is entirely the story of what happens when Matt Murdock has pretty much the worst time of his life (unable to cope with his girlfriend's death, secret identity outed to the press, Bullseye's return, declaring himself Kingpin of Hell's Kitchen, disbarred and thrown in prison, etc.) and being utterly unable to cope with the black hole his life had become.

You see it in real life all the time. Kanye West's evolution is pretty much the best real-life example I can think of when I think about what a hero-to-villain transformation looks like, but that's a whole other post.

Have you ever known someone before a relationship and seen them AFTER a breakup? After the death of a loved one? Post-traumatic stress is more present in America than its probably ever been. Often times, soldiers come home from war changed by their experiences and understandably so. Their job is literally to get shot at so you don't have to. Now, compare that to "superheroism." People who get shot at and attacked by all kinds of unthinkable supervillain shit every single day are bound to be deeply affected and changed in the wake of what they've seen.

No, seriously....WHY hasn't Marvel made
these shirts? You're leaving money on the
table, Marvel.
Having a major character go through a major change like that isn't necessarily always a perversion of who he or she was meant to be. Sometimes, it's the next logical step. It's evolution. Sometimes, people just snap. Comic book characters shouldn't have to be immune.