I Can Whip Any Man in the House, and Ride any Philly in the Place

I was watching the latest offering from DC Animation, the well-acted by ultimately predictable Batman: Under the Red Hood, when I finally got to the good stuff: the DC Showcase-branded Jonah Hex animated short. Now, what really got me in Jonah Hex wasn't the story or the animation, as both are derivative and stylistically similar to the 2008 release, Batman : Gotham Knight, but, rather, the few seconds prior to the film's opening.

The DC Showcase brand of animated shorts feature a sort of "title sequence" which takes viewers through a comic book shop full of DC comics properties before finally settling on a book featuring the character that we're about to see in the presentation proper.

And I fucking love this.

In addition to being a comic book geek, I harbor a passion for stuff: people's stuff, businesses' stuff, all kinds of stuff. I see the mass market, modern culture, and "consumerism" as a fascinating network of systems, inventions, and creativity all interconnected to form our modern lives. What does a person's stuff say about him? Why did he choose to buy this, or why did he have to buy this? We take home products as a given, when really --

Well, I'm getting off topic. My point here is that the opening was far more interesting to me than the Jonah Hex short. SO, I decided to slow it down and try to see exactly which products the fine folks at DC Comics had decided to draw my attention to, and ponder the reasons why.



As we fly through Jay and Silent Bob's Secret Stash accompanied by some very John-Williamsy-spacey-like-twinkly music, our gaze is directed toward various properties: there's Showcase #4, the issue that ushered in the Silver Age of Comics with Barry Allen way back in 1956; there's an appearance of everyone's favorite BustyAirborne Lass in Showcase #99 featuring Power Girl; followed by more issues of Showcase, natch. There's a few Showcase Presents collections scattered around, including The Elongated Man (hint hint), Ambush Bug, and Booster Gold, and I think I even caught a glimpse of a few collections from "the other guys."

And then I saw this:


May whatever heathen god you pray to bless the production intern who whipped out a copy of Showcase #78 to shove into the hands of COMIC SHOP PATRON #6. Everyone knows that the imagineers here at Blackmarket Pies love, love, love the obscure and the underappreciated, so when I saw a character that I had never heard of before being absorbed with care and attention by a hip twenty-something, I had to jump into the fray.

Showcase #78 features the man known as JONNY DOUBLE, whom wikipedia describes as "a down-beat Don Quixote in a society that frowns on windmills. A once white knight in rusty armor searching for that last dragon to slay. The poor man's Peter Pan."

Hmmm. While very British-invasion-esque for a comic from 1968, it sure doesn't explain a whole lot. Sort of sounds like Nemesis as written by Peter Milligan.

You all know what this means, lads: it's time to dig deeper into the cavernous bowels of the DC Unvierse and discover exactly who Jonny Double is, and why he came to be (hint: Chinatown had been released four years prior, and The Fugivtive had just endd its run). But that'll have to wait until I actually find a copy of Showcase #78. For now, it may be back to the unicorn well...

The Dark Is Rising A.K.A. The Seeker: The Dark Is Rising A.K.A. The Seeker A.K.A. Self-Indulgent Crap

I was just over at Ain't It Cool News, reading up on a children's fantasy movie that, honestly, I had wanted to see up until about 2 months ago - if only because Christopher Eccleston is in it. I got through the review, which was pretty much what I expected (after reading the book, that is... but more on that later), and got into reading the comments. I know, I know: reading an AICN Talkback is about as fruitful a pursuit as using YouTube comments as primary academic sources, but, sometimes, you do find that odd gleaming gem buried in the pile of shit, written in desperation by that one lone reader with half a brain in his ass. I didn't find any gems today, but I did find out that, surprisingly, people actually liked reading The Dark is Rising, a fantasy novella by Susan Cooper. And I cannot possibly see why.

First, I saw the comment by the dick who calls Massawyrm (who wrote the review) an asshole for having the audacity, the impudence, the gall, to say that a film version of the Dark is Rising was trying to take advantage of the popularity of Harry Potter. In his defense, he cites the fact that The Dark is Rising was written in the sixties, and therefore a movie version couldn't possibly be trying to lure a few Potterites into the theaters. Naturally, he must feel the same way about Star Trek: The Motion Picture, which totally wasn't trying to ride the sci-fi wave started by Star Wars in the late seventies. After all, Trek came out first. Ditto for Flash Gordon.

Further down the page, however, I ran into even more people that were simply belligerent over the fact that Massawyrm was daring to call the movie dull, lifeless, boring, et al. I've gotta tell you the sad, simple truth, folks: the book is exactly the same. When Ian McShane (starring in the film as Merriman) related to a reporter that he couldn't get through the "complexity" of the book, he was being polite: he really meant that he couldn't get through all the bromidic bullcrap.

Over at David Brin's website (he's the author of The Postman, and a contributor to Star Wars on Trial), he describes, in an article entitled "Leaving the Matrix," the kind of fiction that The Dark is Rising represents. It's not a tale of an individual hero, fighting against the odds and earning his victory, but of a demi-god, an elite who was chosen by shadowy rules that give him the right to meddle in the affairs of the world at his whim - because he's not just another person, he is the seeker, and he knows best.

This is indeed what Harry Potter is: a self-indulgent story whereby the reader (or author) can fantasize that they aren't just another person, but are secretly better than everyone else. And they don't have to work for it in the slightest: an old man or wizard visits them, usually around their birthday, tells them that they are descended from great powers, and then, *poof!*, off to save the world they go. You can see it in Harry Potter, you can see it in Star Wars, and you can most definitely see it in The Dark is Rising.

In fact, the book takes the "I'm special just because I'm me" theme even further than Harry or Anakin or Neo. In The Dark is Rising, most of the action is actually inaction. SPOILER WARNING: "The Seeker's" (11-year-old Will Stanton) goal is to find a series of six signs, small symbols made out of different materials that are shaped like a quartered circle. Of course, he doesn't really need to find them - they find him. He never has to venture into dark caves, or misty mountains, or dense forests to find the signs, they just kind of... show up. He's even given one at a party by the same people that want him to find them. There's no adventure, and there's no real suspense or threat of danger, because we're dealing with a kid who can light things on fire and move objects using only his mind. Hell, there's even a scene where he opens a book and instantly gains all of the knowledge of the Old Ones, all without any studying required. It's self-indulgent pap. Even the ending, in which the "Dark Rider" might finally get back at Will by killing one of sisters, is ruined by the deus ex machina to end all deus ex machinas: an actual god, not just the representation of one, but an actual god, helps vanquish the forces of the dark.

Essentially, Will is an automaton who is simply destined to win - he's where he needs to be when he needs to be, and he's forced to say the right words at the right time (no fucking kidding, he says things against his will). That's not fun. That's not adventure. That's lazy wish-fulfillment.


Ian McShane knows. That's why he said this:

No, I never heard of them. I did try to read the book, but they were a little...I think...I don't know how...There's four of them apparently. Or five. Oh, god. That means I might have to do a sequel.

Oh god, indeed, my friend.

Everybody Wants to Be a Klingon

When doing business in the galaxy, it's always a good idea to be prepared:

Take Michael Dorn's patented "Power Klingon" course, and complete your Master's Degree in fake languages!

The Rob Zombie School of Filmmaking

1- Can you give your wife a prominent role?

2 - Can you make her a stripper?

3 - If not, how many strippers can be put in?

Whale Song

The busy has kept me from writing on the blog as of late, but when the things inside of your head start to go "click-click-click," it is rather difficult to stop yourself from telling people about it.

Therefore, CLOVERFIELDS. Again.

http://www.aintitcool.com/node/33852

AICN reports up there on a bunch of baseless rumors that keep flooding their inboxes, and if there's anything that Ain't It Cool News enjoys, it's meaningless speculation . Or it's desperate naivete.

Despite the utter unreliability and clear marketing arrangement that produces AICN's little tidbits of "news," I am experiencing a wave of apophenia: the mention of Whales, the sound file of the roar, the "Beast From 20,000 Fathoms," and the only officially recognized "CLOVERFIELDS" site's Japanese nature makes me keep thinking of Godzilla. Why?

Godzilla was called "Gojira" in the Japanese original, which, according to some sources, was derived from the nick-name of a worker at the studio, "Gorilla Whale." Who this worker was, or if he even existed, has never been been confirmed.

Godzilla also began life, in the pre-production phase, as an unabashed knock-off of the successful American film, "The Beast From 20,00 Fathoms." The producer even went as far as to give the film a name containing "20,000" in it's name. This, as well as the "Gorilla Whale" story, can be checked in William M. Tsutsui's "Godzilla on My Mind."

Then there's the "Japanese" site, of course.

Is it Godzilla? Could be. It could explain why the films' been kept secret like this: the last time a film depicted Godzilla attacking New York, results were... well, somewhat less than expected.

Of course, the connections that I make are rather limtied: in my life, I may have only seen a good five live-action Japanese films. Out of those, I've seen maybe three of them all the way through. The Japanese link could be much deeper than what my experiences can tell me, so if I were, you I wouldn't trust a goddamn word out of my idiot mouth. Like any good redneck-witness to a catastrophe, I just wanted to tell you what I saw, even if I'm the only one who happened to see that cow get turned inside out by the government/alien agents.

"The Prisoner" Still At Large

http://www.aintitcool.com/node/33786

Looks like that re-make of The Prisoner just ain't happenin'. Says it was the Americans' fault (isn't it always?), trying to turn it into something that isn't "British," whatever the fuck that means anymore. I think that's British for "it was too hard, and we were too scared that we were going to fuck it up." It could also mean "the Prisoner was borne of creativity, and we bean-counters have no idea what would be involved in resurrecting it. Couldn't we just make another cop show?"

The Mark of Jurassic Park

The most vivid memories that I have - that is, the events to which I feel the greatest amount of nostalgia towards - are from the summer of 1993. Living in Toronto was just such a blast: the Toronto Blue Jays had just gotten off the first World Series win for a Canadian team, and were well on their way towards winning their second. I was completely obsessed with Batman, and the animated series was in it's finest form. Star Trek has retaken the minds of the masses, and had just launched Deep Space Nine, while TNG was still wildly popular (I can still remember taking my Jean-Luc Picard action figure to school, and stupidly, as kids are wont to do, scuffing up his comm-badge by running him along the fence to produce a most satisfying *ding-ding-ding* noise). It was just such an awesome time, and even though my father had just gotten laid-off when the Ontario Stockyards moved from Toronto to Cookstown, I remember it as an easy-going, and supremely fun time.

And of course, there was Jurassic Park.

I don't know what it was - maybe it was my exposure to and subsequent love of all things Barney, or maybe it was just the natural proclivity of children to love dinosaurs, but I fell for Jurassic Park with no hesitation, and I fell hard. Dinosaurs were my life from that point onward. I wanted the toys, the t-shirts, the school supplies... I wanted anything I could get my hands on. Now, in reality, I only ended up getting these really cheap, possibly-knock-off, miniature JP dinosaurs (I got a T-Rex and a Gallimimus, my brother got a Velociraptor and a Brachiosaurus), that seemed to be made out of resin and were about two-inches tall. I did what the commercials told me to do, and I "looked for the mark of Jurassic Park," in order to authenticate my finds, but a tiny "JP" mark is easy enough to fake. I no longer have the tiny dinoes, but I do remember being so disappointed that I had not gotten any of the big dino toys that actually had chunks of their flesh that could be taken out to resemble "dino damage." Other items that I received were a Jurassic Park pencil case set (featuring my most favorite of all dinos, the Dilophosaurs, or "Spitter" as I called him - he rose to the rank of my favorite above T-Rex after I had won a stuffed Dilopho from "the Birthday Game" booth at the Canadian National Exhibition), a set of Jurassic Park-themed pencils, a McDonalds promotional plastic cup (featuring Gallimimus), and a backpack (I would have killed for the lunchbox, though).

There was also the numerous JP-shaped food items that I indulged in (not as many as there were for The Lost World, but we'll talk about that later): Jurassic Park yellow-cremed Oreos, Jurassic Park animal crackers, Jurassic Park Raptor-Egg gumballs. There were also other items that weren't exclusively dino-flavoured, but that nonetheless helped fuel my JP-inspired consumerism: Jell-o had cardboard recreations of T-Rexes and the awe-inspiring JP Ford Explorer on the back of their pudding packages.

So, you can imagine how finding something like this might make me all giddy (EDIT: If the videos aren't showing up, then YouTube obviously hates you. You can stick it to the man by viewing the first video here, and the second video here):



Also cool:



I remember another McDonalds commercial that recreates the opening scene (if you can't remember what it was, this might help: "Shooooooooooot heeeer!"), but the big metal box that's being carted through the jungle has a big ol' set of "Golden Arches" on the side. If anyone can find this, it would make my whole goddamn year.

Trek Updates

I'm working on the Reaper review, but I would be remiss if I didn't provide updates from the mecca of Comiccon:

Zachary Quinto (Sylar of Heroes fame) has been confirmed as the newest incarnation of Spock. I'm interested, to say the least. More as I get it.

Courtesy of TrekMovie.com:

As above, Quinto is Spock, Nimoy in the film as Spock, cryptically enough, and a new poster was released. I'd post that, too, but the site has just collapsed under the diluge of hits - which can only be construed as a good sign for the interest in this new film.

No casting of Kirk, though. And not much else. It's kind of disappointing, really.

ADDENDUM:
Here's the poster from Everythingbut-Trekweb.com.

Pumpkinhead

Sorry, folks - my interweb's were down yesterday, so my review of Chuck will have to wait until tonight. Until then, though, let's talk about Halloween movies that aren't called Halloween:



Man, this looks genuinely, seasonally creepy. When was the last time we've had a really good Halloween-themed movie? I hope this is the first strike in the revival of Halloween as a big-time holiday.

STOP THE PRESSES!

We've heard it all before...

We've waited with bated breath....

We've convulsed with rage and anxiety over unfulfilled expectations and curiosity...

WONDER NO MORE!

Reboot gets Rebooted!

Maybe! Click on the link for info about Rainmaker's plans to launch Reboot movies!

I have to go change my pants.

ADDENDUM:

And just to refresh your memories...

1408 Reasons Why 1408 Failed

I love Stephen King, mmm-mmm-mmm boy, do I loves me the Stevie King. The conversational, down-home, small-town, Coca-Cola way he wrote was the most fun I've had reading until I encountered Kurt Vonnegut and Nick Hornby. Sure, while these latter two have now eclipsed the "Master of Horror" on my bookshelf, I'll always remember King, as he was my first.

Somewhere along the line, King lost his way - I don't know whether it was before or after his car accident (well, technically it wasn't his car, or his accident, but he was hit by a car and put into hospital, and let's just leave it there, if you can dig that), all I know is that it was fuckin' torture to try to get through The Tommyknockers, that Insomnia was a perfect cure for itself, and that "Bag of Bones" was bordering on false advertising. Even the remaining "Dark Tower" novels seemed to be lacking any of King's earlier enthusiasm, degenerating from what could have been a modern mythological tale into a convoluted mess. I wanted the old King back, the King that I had fallen in love with after reading Pet Sematary, a novel that managed to freak me out not because it included zombie cats, but because it realistically conveyed the horror of a parent losing a child (which was something that King would often tell interviewers was indeed his biggest fear).

Then, during my last year of high school, in which I skipped class to hang out in the library, I found it: Everything's Eventual. Supposedly made up of "14 Dark Tales," I had rediscovered my beloved Stephen King of old. "Autopsy Room Four" probed at the age-old fear of being buried alive, but taken to the extremes of the modern age, as a man was about to be post-mortem'd pre-mortem. The titular "Everything's Eventual" told the story of a man who could use symbols to kill people. "The Little Sisters of Eluria" was the best Dark Tower adventure since the first book. And then, of course, there was "1408."



Which is what brings me here today. I loved the story of "1408." It had the creepiest imagery I had ever seen in a King story, particularly the part about the paintings which changed from depicting kitsch-y scenes that could be found in any hotel room, to bizarre and eerie pictures that, while far from terrifying if you excluded their true nature, just felt wrong. Naturally, when I head that they were making a movie based on "1408" - with John Cusack, no less! - I had to see that fucker. "Might" or "maybe" wasn't even thrown about. I was going to see 1408.

And I did. And I was disappointed. Let me tell you why.

I was looking for creepy, and it gave me jumpy. Stephen King's a writer, so what he presents must necessarily be "cerebrally" scary - an image that haunts you, no matter how many times or how fast you read it. "1408" obliterates any semblance of King's presence by being all about the jumpy scare - where's the creepiness of paintings changing from tacky images into scenes of unease? Where's the non-sensical ramblings left on the tape recorder? No, instead of the creepiness of King's original story, we're deluged with some weird mix between The Shining and the Sixth Sense, with twists and dead children in abundance.

Mike Enslin (protagonist, Cusack's character, heavy drinker) has been hopping from haunted inn to haunted inn, trying to find evidence of paranormal activity so that he could write such books as "10 Haunted Hotels," "10 Haunted Cemetaries," and "10 Haunted Pet Stores." He also has a bit of an ulterior motive - he wants to find evidence of an afterlife, because his daughter died, years ago, and he wants to know that she's still "out there."

Now, I'm sure you won't be surprised when I tell you that this new "dead daughter" angle is a recent addition, and was not penned by the hand of Stephen King. See, in the original story that I loved so much, Mike Enslin is dead: he wandered into the Dolphin Hotel looking to debunk their famous haunted room, and was instead treated to being blown completely out of his mind. We're hearing the story from, if I remember correctly, a conversation between the hotel's manager (played in the film by Samuel L. Jackson) and an insurance representative. The manager has Enslin's tape recorder (which, happily, featured prominently in the film as well), and all that was on the tape were the incoherent ramblings of a nutcase, including phrases about werewolves eating his brother on the highway (a phrase that makes a cameo in the film by way of a type-written sheet in Samuel L. Jackson's "big honkin' file o' scary shit").

In the story, Mike Enslin is dead because Mike Enslin needs to be dead - it was his hubris to think that he could survive where others had not that was his downfall. It was a morality tale.

In the film, Mike Enslin doesn't die. Mike Enslin is tormented by the room for no particular reason other than Samuel L. Jackson is pissed that he's debunking his ghostly buddies. But if you think about it, Mike Enslin doesn't deserve to be tormented by the room - he wants the room to be haunted, because he wants to know that his daughter is still, I repeat, "out there." It's not in his best interest have hubris, and he's not debunking the haunted hotels for jollies - he sincerely wants to find a building that has a ghost in it. Which is precisely why this move fails so goddamn hard - whenever Enslin's daughter is mentioned, we know that's why he's searching for ghosts. But at every other time, he's presented as a smug jackass who just wants to destroy people's false beliefs (just like in the story). Mike Enslin encountered the haunted room in the story because he needed to be "corrected" for his smug attitude, the ever popular morality theme of preaching humility. So why did he encounter the room in the film?

I don't know, you tell me.

Was it one of those, "be careful what you wish for" deals? No, because ol' Mike eventually found what he was looking for - proof that his daughter was not dead, that there may in fact be a "god." Hell, if I were Mike, why would I have even left 1408? If there's an afterlife, and my dead daughter's there and well, I might as well just sit back and let the room claim me. Or jump out the window like it wanted me to. The dead daughter tells Mike some cryptic bullshit about things "not letting her go," but this is never elaborated upon. Hey! maybe if this movie actually had some kind of message, "not letting go" might have actually seemed to carry some weight (see my recommendations for how the movie could have been improved)!

So, the problem in the film is cause and effect, or motivation. Anything that happens in 1408 doesn't seem to follow from anything - it happens because the plot demands that it happens.

How could it have been better?

i) Mike Enslin is searching desperately for paranormal activity as evidence for an afterlife, so that he can hope that his daughter isn't really dead. Room 1408 makes him realize the folly of his search by showing him that life is what's important by making him believe that he's going to die. Thus, in the end, he escapes with his life and gets on with it, putting all the foolish ghost-story books behind him as he gets back to doing what he does best - writing deep, introspective fiction.

ii) Mike Enslin is searching desperately for paranormal activity as evidence for an afterlife, so that he can hope that his daughter isn't really dead. Becoming disillusioned, he gives up, until weeks later he is sent a postcard telling him not to "go into Room 1408." He only survives Room 1408 by not giving up, and he carries this moral over into his life as he continues to search for evidence of an afterlife.

These are simple fixes that would have given the story some meaning. As it stands, it doesn't - it falls flat on it's dopey, modern-paranormal-thriller face.

CLOVERFIELDs Forever

So, apparently J.J. Abrams, can-do-no-wrong producer of Lost and the eventual producer/could-be director of the next Star Trek film, has been working on a film called Cloverfield for a while now, and has had it cloaked in secrecy locked up so tight that a sonic screwdriver couldn't budge it.

But I'm thinking... what if this is the Star Trek film? What if "Cloverfield" was a name they decided to use to maintain utmost secrecy while working on the project? The Star Trek guys know what negative vibe can do to a movie, and that Trekkers/Trekkies have been spoiling movies since long before the internet ever reared it's multi-mouth'd head (Spock was "killed" in the opening minutes of Star Trek II during a simulation to try to keep the surprise of his real death). Numerous movies before have used this tactic as well - George Lucas shot Return of the Jedi under the assumed name of "Blue Harvest" so he wasn't ripped off when paying for film services (or besieged by fans, for that matter).

Five bucks says Cloverfield is Star Trek: Incognito, and that the trailer described here is a plant. "Moriarty" thinks that the trailer will be attached to Transformers, which, for the record, is a movie from Star Trek's company, Paramount. Here's hoping.