When we finally write the book on comics history (well, we have--many times over--but stick with me here) hopefully when people speak of the 90s and get over their hate-gasm for the wretched excesses of the first half of the decade (of which there were many) and how it nearly killed the comics business and the 800 other things you always here right after someone says "The 90s," they will talk about the back half of the decade, and what the most influential superhero book of the time was.
Grant Morrison's JLA. Because before then, the idea seemed to be to toss out every single element of Marvel and DC's long history in a fevered mania to ape whatever Image was doing at the time, because whatever people tell you, just about any business will default to "ape whatever's selling as hard as you can for as long as you can" if they're desperate enough.
But JLA was different--it showed that you could work with elements of the past with an eye towards the future and create something that was vital and felt "now" without completely abandoning what had gone before. It used history, but wasn't beholden to it.
With the benefit of 14 years, of course, we can see that fine distinction, like the imitators of Watchmen, Dark Knight, and Miracleman before them, that the wrong lessons were learnt, and ultimately what you end up with is stuff like Alex Ross' output post 2000 and Geoff Johns at his deadly worst (or as it is known to be called elsewhere, Flash: Rebirth)
But at the time, this looked like a way forward, especially for Marvel, which limped into the mid-90s with all the grace and elegance of a drunken socialite who can't stop vomiting all over herself. Heroes Reborn ended up beyond a joke, the X-Books (long the spine of the Marvel line) were starting their end-of-90s flailing for direction, and the only thing with any kind of excitement around it were assumed-to-be-mid-list books like Heroes For Hire and Thunderbolts.
We've talked about Thunderbolts here at the Prattle before, and it's a great exemplar of this trend, in that it took something from Marvel's history, recapitulated it into something fresh and new and created a pretty compelling storytelling engine out of it.
So, said Marvel, this Kurt Busiek fella's on to something (accusations of him being responsible for killing comics came later, of course) and the Heroes Reborn business was ignominiously winding down as JLA's star was on the rise, so why not let him apply that balance of appreciation for the history of comics and his ability to tell new stories with those elements and let him have a go with it with Avengers, formerly a flagship book that has spent of the 90's fouling its own nest in various brutal, embarrassing ways.
And so they did, and sure enough, Avengers' sales went up. Part of that was due to Busiek's writing, but equal time must be given to George Perez returning to the book and really bring his A-game (even if he took no great pains to hide his obsession with seeing Scarlet Witch in bondage) and it was a good fit--Busiek would find these odd corners of the Marvel Universe and pull a story out of them (The Doomsday Man? Really?) and for the most part, they were fresh enough and presented in such as way as to where one didn't need a course in Marvel History to understand what the hell was going on. Not always, of course (The Triune Understanding/Traithlon/3-D Man running plot never really came together, ever) but enough to where the book was stronger in ways it hadn't been back when they were all wearing bomber jackets and were drawn by Mike Deodato Jr.
So strong was the Avengers brand, that at the turn of the millennium, Marvel spun off another year-long series that could be best described as Busiek's love letter to the breadth of Avengers history, Avengers Forever. I collected Avengers Forever when the issues first came out (probably missed a few, as the whole business of chasing them around three newsstands--remember those?--could be problematic at times) and at the time, I wasn't particularly impressed.
But recently, I was in a nostalgic mood, found the hardcover collection for cheap, and decided to pick it up, deciding that even if the story still didn't appeal to me, Carlos Pacheco's frankly amazing art would still carry the day.
And the verdict is--I liked it, but not as much as I thought I might. The art is stunning, and the time-travel device gives the story freedom to do some really cool things and bring some stuff to the table one wouldn't expect. But structurally there are some real problems--most especially there are two issues worth of infodumps near the end of the book--exactly when things should be ramping up for the epic conclusion--that just grind things to a halt, and for what?
Basically so we can explain why the Vision and the Human Torch can be the same guy, more or less. Oh, and to completely handwave The Crossing, without going into too much detail, which would make this book worth it even if the rest of it was dreck.
Here's the bottom-line plot--Eternal pain in the ass Rick Jones is crippled and suffering from some kind of Mysterious Disease and it's somehow tied to when he used some sort of Locked-Up Human Potential to end the Kree-Skrull War (which always struck me as a slightly flaccid ending to that particular saga, but that's a rant for another time) in trying to cure him, Jones gets tied up in a brain-melting complicated plot involving Kang, Immortus (might he possibly be my least favourite character ever, even against Red She-Hulk? I believe he might.) a cabal of time-traveling aliens from What If? called the Time Keepers, Libra from the Zodiac, and Jerry Mathers as the Cleaver.
OK, not that last one.
Anyways, one thing leads to another, and a team of Avengers pulled from various eras of their history pops into existence. From the (mostly) present day, we have Giant-Man and the Wasp; from the time when Roy Thomas was using Hank Pym to write Roy Thomas fanfiction we have Yellowjacket in his original iteration (another failed chapter of many wherein people try to get me to give a damn about Henry Pym) ; Captain Marvel (Genis-Vell, who would get another series spun-off from this book, and in fact Avengers Forever sets up most of the status quo of that series) ; Hawkeye, fresh off his stint as Goliath (I never did work out what the point of that was) post Kree-Skrull War; Captain America, shell-shocked and raw from the climax of Steve Englehart's Secret Empire story; and Songbird from Thunderbolts, who from what I can tell from the backmatter, was put in there basically because she was cute.
And soon enough, the structure of the series is set up--reluctantly, the Avengers team up with Kang to stop Immortus from killing Rick Jones because he is the key to some terrible destiny for mankind. Kang teams up with the Avengers to prevent himself from ever turning into Immortus as he is fated to do (this is the beginning of Busiek slowly turning Kang into marvel's Grand Admiral Thrawn) and generally, it's one big chase through time into space.
Just as well, really, as the more you try to think your way through the plot and Immortus' machinations and oh dear lord how much continuity are we trying to resolve now, the more your head's liable to hurt. So rather than confront that, let's concentrate on the more effective bits for the moment: The War of the Worlds Avengers from issue #4, wherein a group of Avengers featuring Killraven and the Crimson Dynamo battle back Martian invaders; The return of the 1950s Avengers in issue #5 (only to be immediately deleted from continuity, of course that didn't last very long); A side trip to Marvel's Old West (Y'know--Pacheco does a pretty good Western story . . .they should let him do one again sometime) and finally the footnote-busting final battle between every Avenger that ever was vs. a legion of alternate universe Avengers.
On a micro-level, we get some good character bits along the way as well: Hawkeye gets his first taste of leadership (prefiguring his run as leader of the West Coast Avengers and the Thunderbolts); Captain America gets a measure of his confidence back; Captain Marvel tries (and fails) to avoid his destined fate; and Songbird demonstrates some amazing competence and fits so well in the Avengers that it's a damn shame that whole thing never ended up happening.
Oh yes, and we get a mention of my favorite totally inconsequential Avengers villain ever--Oort the Living Comet, whose only appearance featured the Avengers yelling that they'd never heard of him. I think that's just wonderful.
That's what works and makes it a nice humming-along kinda read. What doesn't work as well are the aforementioned infodumps that threaten to crush the story flat. Couple this with the time-travel gimmick, which threatens to convolute the present story even without the damn retcons, and you get a story that as soon as it slows down becomes somewhat impossible to follow. Doesn't help that some of these retcons threaten to skirt close to Roy Thomas and Steve Englehart fanfic, either.
And most damning, the idea of Immortus as prime mover of the story means this story turns on exactly why I hate and despise Immortus--damn near every Immortus story I've read features him as a walking Get Out Of Continuity Free Card, wherein he's just there to look enigmatic and explain why Everything You Know Is Wrong and patch over some writer's mistake. That, to me is not a character--that's plotting spackle in a funny purple hat.
But so long as the story concentrates on its strengths--epic stuff that spans the breadth of Avengers history (this was also what JLA/Avengers did very well with as well, and they were written by the same guy, too . . .hmmm . . .) it manages to be a gripping read with enough stuff to give the longtime readers a rush of nostalgia and hopefully, by shining some light into seldom-visited corners of the Marvel Universe, maybe got some people excited by the potential they saw there and encouraged them to explore further.
In short, people who like this sort of thing will find that it is the sort of thing that they like. It's not as strong ultimately as Avengers was during the same time, but it's not bad either, and well worth a look, even if only for the art.
And Oort the Living Comet. Mustn't forget about him.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The Witless Prattle Home Game!
Hi all,
Just had a great thought for a fun comics-related game you can play at home or when you're desperately trying to stave off boredom.
You may or may not be aware that there is a comic that was titled The Deadly Hands Of Kung-Fu. I have discovered that you can actually apply to any comics title and it automatically makes it a ten times better comics title.
Need an example? OK, how about The Deadly Hands Of Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen? The Deadly Hands Of The Batman Family? Or even the infamous and sure to be controversial The Deadly Hands Of Giant-Size Man-Thing?
Now YOU try!
Just had a great thought for a fun comics-related game you can play at home or when you're desperately trying to stave off boredom.
You may or may not be aware that there is a comic that was titled The Deadly Hands Of Kung-Fu. I have discovered that you can actually apply to any comics title and it automatically makes it a ten times better comics title.
Need an example? OK, how about The Deadly Hands Of Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen? The Deadly Hands Of The Batman Family? Or even the infamous and sure to be controversial The Deadly Hands Of Giant-Size Man-Thing?
Now YOU try!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
I Watched This--JUSTICE LEAGUE:CRISIS ON TWO EARTHS
At it's core, the Justice League is an inherently bulletproof concept--the world's greatest superheroes (plus Aquaman) gathered together. It's curious then how often comic creators fail to "get it," whether by packing the team with Avengers-esque "single characters who don't work well outside of team books," packing the team with complete unknowns, or just generally having them spend issue after excruciating issue littering the page with interior monologues and bogging down the book with interpersonal soap opera.
Likewise, the Crime Syndicate is an equally bulletproof concept--they're the Justice League, only evil and on a planet that is also evil. Naturally, Comics are fairly happy to barely use them, as they've only had very notable appearances (in my lifetime, anyhow) at the beginning of Crisis on Infinite Earths (in which they died in an oddly powerful moment) JLA: Earth 2 (which formed the basis for the modern-day Crime Syndicate) and JLA/Avengers (which kinda echoed the beginning of Crisis, but wasn't quite as powerful, but was a clever roman a clef on the aforementioned scene) as I guess they don't fit into all the metatextual navel-gazing that they feel should naturally go on in a comic called Justice League.
Thankfully, as these predilections went into overdrive over the last decade, we had the DCAU, also known as "If you liked DC comic characters, but hated DC Comics, well, there's this." Funnily enough in the decade-plus run of the DCAU, they'd never done a Crime Syndicate story. the closest they'd come was the Justice League episode "A Better World," wherein the Justice Lords took over their parallel earth, Squadron Supreme style. It was a great pair of episodes, true, but it wasn't the the JLA vs. Crime Syndicate story you knew they could do.
The plan was, as I understand it, that when Justice League transitioned into Justice League Unlimited, there was supposed to be a direct to video movie bridging the two series which would, in fact, feature the Crime Syndicate fight. It didn't end up happening--at the time, at least.
The idea was filed away, however, and now it's time has come around again. However, it had been a few years, and Batman: Brave and the Bold had already done a pretty awesome two-part Crime Syndicate episode, so the question remained--was there room for two takes on the same concept?
Sure. While JUSTICE LEAGUE: CRISIS ON TWO EARTHS doesn't exactly hide it's origins as a Justice League finale/JLU continuation (seriously--it doesn't take a lot of finessing to see where this slots in, despite the different voice cast and animation style) it does exactly what it says on the box--you get the Crime Syndicate vs the Justice League, and a pretty decently-told story in between all the fights as well.
It all starts with Lex Luthor and the Joker of an alternate Earth (who are the good guys this time out) stealing the macguffin from a heavily guarded fortress and getting the evil versions of Hawkgirl and Martian Manhunter (who Edgar Rice Burroughs fans will quite enjoy) the Joker blows up those two and just in time for the main Crime Syndicate to show up, Lex vanishes to another Earth. Cue credits.
Things move pretty briskly from here on in--there's only 75 minutes in the movie, after all-- and the battles lines are swiftly drawn. The Crime Syndicate has risen to such power on Luthor's Earth that the governments of the world have basically taken a hands-off approach and lives in fear of the Syndicate. Luthor needs the League's muscle to take down the Crime Syndicate in such a way as to inspire the people of his earth to stand up for them--it's a pretty subtle but well thought-out idea that gives the notion that one ass-kicking isn't going to solve everything.
There's little clever touches all through the movie, actually--for one, the notion that the Crime Syndicate is actually a syndicate, wherein the five main baddies control legions of associated baddies (Superwoman leads an evil and suspiciously Marvelman-like Marvel Family, Owlman leads warped versions of the Outsiders) Deathstroke is the President of the United States, Ultraman, the leader of the Crime Syndicate sounds suspiciously like he's from North Jersey (not that I'm implying anything) and in an utterly throwaway recurring bit Wonder Woman gets her Invisible Jet.
None of these things, mercifully detract from the main point of the story--Luthor's discovery of parallel worlds has an unintended ripple effect. Owlman's built a bomb capable of destroying their Earth to use as leverage against world governments and finally take full control. However, with the discovery of travel to parallel Earths, Owlman has decided, as every decision one way or another is played out over an infinite number of universe, that the only decision that would matter, would be to find the Earth that started everything (Earth-Prime) detonate the bomb there and cause the whole thing to collapse.
So that's the basic plot in place, all that's left are the fights, and they're pretty tremendous. You don't want for action in any of them and they're clever enough twists in each of them (Batman vs. Superwoman and Green lantern vs. Halo come to mind) that it doesn't get monotonous.
In short, it's an effective Justice League story--with enough enduring elements to be classic, but with enough fresh spins on the familiar to be contemporary at one and the same time. Of course, this does raise the question of why comics, its native medium, can't seem to manage stories like this anymore.
Bottom line, y'all--for $20 at most, you get an awesome lead feature, the aforementioned "A Better World" and a handful of previews. If you lament the current mess that comics, and Justice League comics in particular have become--and you're certainly not alone there--well, here's something you'll really enjoy.
Likewise, the Crime Syndicate is an equally bulletproof concept--they're the Justice League, only evil and on a planet that is also evil. Naturally, Comics are fairly happy to barely use them, as they've only had very notable appearances (in my lifetime, anyhow) at the beginning of Crisis on Infinite Earths (in which they died in an oddly powerful moment) JLA: Earth 2 (which formed the basis for the modern-day Crime Syndicate) and JLA/Avengers (which kinda echoed the beginning of Crisis, but wasn't quite as powerful, but was a clever roman a clef on the aforementioned scene) as I guess they don't fit into all the metatextual navel-gazing that they feel should naturally go on in a comic called Justice League.
Thankfully, as these predilections went into overdrive over the last decade, we had the DCAU, also known as "If you liked DC comic characters, but hated DC Comics, well, there's this." Funnily enough in the decade-plus run of the DCAU, they'd never done a Crime Syndicate story. the closest they'd come was the Justice League episode "A Better World," wherein the Justice Lords took over their parallel earth, Squadron Supreme style. It was a great pair of episodes, true, but it wasn't the the JLA vs. Crime Syndicate story you knew they could do.
The plan was, as I understand it, that when Justice League transitioned into Justice League Unlimited, there was supposed to be a direct to video movie bridging the two series which would, in fact, feature the Crime Syndicate fight. It didn't end up happening--at the time, at least.
The idea was filed away, however, and now it's time has come around again. However, it had been a few years, and Batman: Brave and the Bold had already done a pretty awesome two-part Crime Syndicate episode, so the question remained--was there room for two takes on the same concept?
Sure. While JUSTICE LEAGUE: CRISIS ON TWO EARTHS doesn't exactly hide it's origins as a Justice League finale/JLU continuation (seriously--it doesn't take a lot of finessing to see where this slots in, despite the different voice cast and animation style) it does exactly what it says on the box--you get the Crime Syndicate vs the Justice League, and a pretty decently-told story in between all the fights as well.
It all starts with Lex Luthor and the Joker of an alternate Earth (who are the good guys this time out) stealing the macguffin from a heavily guarded fortress and getting the evil versions of Hawkgirl and Martian Manhunter (who Edgar Rice Burroughs fans will quite enjoy) the Joker blows up those two and just in time for the main Crime Syndicate to show up, Lex vanishes to another Earth. Cue credits.
Things move pretty briskly from here on in--there's only 75 minutes in the movie, after all-- and the battles lines are swiftly drawn. The Crime Syndicate has risen to such power on Luthor's Earth that the governments of the world have basically taken a hands-off approach and lives in fear of the Syndicate. Luthor needs the League's muscle to take down the Crime Syndicate in such a way as to inspire the people of his earth to stand up for them--it's a pretty subtle but well thought-out idea that gives the notion that one ass-kicking isn't going to solve everything.
There's little clever touches all through the movie, actually--for one, the notion that the Crime Syndicate is actually a syndicate, wherein the five main baddies control legions of associated baddies (Superwoman leads an evil and suspiciously Marvelman-like Marvel Family, Owlman leads warped versions of the Outsiders) Deathstroke is the President of the United States, Ultraman, the leader of the Crime Syndicate sounds suspiciously like he's from North Jersey (not that I'm implying anything) and in an utterly throwaway recurring bit Wonder Woman gets her Invisible Jet.
None of these things, mercifully detract from the main point of the story--Luthor's discovery of parallel worlds has an unintended ripple effect. Owlman's built a bomb capable of destroying their Earth to use as leverage against world governments and finally take full control. However, with the discovery of travel to parallel Earths, Owlman has decided, as every decision one way or another is played out over an infinite number of universe, that the only decision that would matter, would be to find the Earth that started everything (Earth-Prime) detonate the bomb there and cause the whole thing to collapse.
So that's the basic plot in place, all that's left are the fights, and they're pretty tremendous. You don't want for action in any of them and they're clever enough twists in each of them (Batman vs. Superwoman and Green lantern vs. Halo come to mind) that it doesn't get monotonous.
In short, it's an effective Justice League story--with enough enduring elements to be classic, but with enough fresh spins on the familiar to be contemporary at one and the same time. Of course, this does raise the question of why comics, its native medium, can't seem to manage stories like this anymore.
Bottom line, y'all--for $20 at most, you get an awesome lead feature, the aforementioned "A Better World" and a handful of previews. If you lament the current mess that comics, and Justice League comics in particular have become--and you're certainly not alone there--well, here's something you'll really enjoy.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
I Read This: X-MEN VISIONARIES: JIM LEE
While it's become somewhat fashionable to slag off the artist-driven explosion in comics in the early 90's and grit our teeth at the . . .uh, gritted teeth, pouches, big guns, and other wretched excesses of comics during that time, there are those rare moments when we must admit that the 90's weren't all bad.
For one thing, it saved Uncanny X-Men from utter creative collapse. The X-Men Visionaries: Jim Lee trade paperback gives us an excellent cross-section of what that transition looked like.
Not in terms of sales--Uncanny X-Men was still Marvel's top seller, more or less--but creatively they ended the 80's in a right awful state. Chris Claremont, now a decade and change as writer of the comic seemed to either be burning out or hell-bent on dragging the title into the most turgid boring long-term plot seen up to that point.
Basically, after Fall of the Mutants, the X-Men are considered "dead" and have relocated to Australia because, well . . .we're not sure, exactly. The general notion seems to be that the X-Men will ride in, save the day, and leave before they can be thanked (not unlike the Lone Ranger, I guess--that's the metaphor they keep using) they vanish and everyone thinks of them in hushed tones as this awesome group of strangers who totally rocked the faces of the bad guys.
The dramatic effect of all this is lost on the reader, perhaps because the X-Men at this point consist of Dazzler, Longshot, Havok, Storm, Wolverine, Colossus, Rogue, Psylocke and Paul Roma--wait, not him. It's not one of the more awe-inspiring lineups to be sure.
Anyways, in the background of all this is the return of the X-Men's oldest and most feared foe The Shadow King.
Yeah. It was news to me as well. The Shadow King originally showed up in a flashback story in wherein Professor X busted Storm for nicking his wallet and fought a dangerously-close-to-racist-caricature Big Fat Egyptian Telepath Guy who illustrated to Xavier the inherent danger of mutant powers used for evil.
It was an OK done-in-one, but he came back anyways. The Shadow King returned in New Mutants a few years later because Bill Sinkiewicz really enjoyed drawing evil fat people that day or something. It involved mind control and slavery because hey, Chris Claremont, right?
Anyways, somehow the Shadow King comes back to life as a result of Polaris getting her powers taken away (in a story that, itself is so damned ridiculous I refuse to waste precious time recounting it) and becomes a living battery for negative emotions and spends a number of back pages stirring the pot on this plot. It never becomes interesting.
Jim Lee arrives on Uncanny X-Men #248 as a deputy penciller (as Marc Silvestri is on the way out) after a well-regarded Punisher War Journal run and his first big break embarrassing himself at the tail end of Bill Mantlo's Alpha Flight run (but then, who didn't?) His first issue is, naturally in the midst of several dangling plotlines, one involving the Reavers (Nearly the bottom of the barrel of the X-Men's rogue's gallery) and Nanny and the Orphan-Maker (Under the barrel itself and digging deeper still) The issue itself is well-drawn and generally action packed. It is also, however, dangerously insane and incoherent, as it covers Longshot leaving because an aborigine told him to and the X-Men getting taken to school by an evil robot egg (not that one) and their own intense personal stupidity. Oh yes, and Storm dies--again, for frighteningly little reason.
This is, as a reader of the title for the entirety of my life, undoubtedly the X-Men's low point (yes even Chuck Austen was better than this). From here, the team angsts, angsts some more, gets killed off yet some more, goes through the Siege Perilous in an issue that aspires and fails to reach the general coherence of a Rob Liefeld comic about an Ultimate Warrior promo and the title begins running twice-monthly because good Christ, once a month of this utter tripe wasn't enough, I guess.
The overall goal is this, I suppose--the X-Men are scattered all over the globe, living different lives with no memory of their past as X-Men. The plot of the X-Men coming together again will parallel the rise of the Shadow King, culminating in a big fight between the two in Uncanny X-Men #300 and it will be a Crowning Moment of Awesome. Whether anyone will give a shit by this point is left up to the individual reader to decide.
Oh yes, and some issues will be drawn by Bill Jaaska, which if it isn't a violation of the Geneva Convention, damn well ought to be.
Anyways, thankfully, little of that makes the book, because we pick back up with the three-parts of Acts of Vengeance crossover from Uncanny #256-258, wherein Wolverine fights the Mandarin. I am totally OK with this instead of him stinking up Iron Man again, I should add. While this has only superficial things in common with the Acts of Vengeance crossover proper, it does give us a pretty sound installment of the overriding X-Men plot of the late 200s--that of getting the band back together. Wolverine with Jubilee (who is absolutely, positively not Carrie Kelly in Asian drag) encounter Psylocke, who, upon going through the Siege Perilous ended up with those wacky ninjas the Hand, who are presently working for the Mandarin (The Mandarin, looking very Shredder-ish in this arc, brings to mind the other appendage-named ninja clan) Being that ninjas are stealthy assassins who kill silently and leave no trace, naturally Psylocke runs around with purple hair and a skimpy swimsuit stabbing people with her new psychic knife which at this point is only "the ultimate focus of her psi-powers." Because Female Empowerment, that's why.
Anyways, she beats up Wolverine and tries to turn him into the Hand's master assassin (another dropped plot thread that an enormous amount of time was sunk into only to be abandoned, then picked up ten years later for something else) This doesn't work, and upon defeating the Mandarin, Psylocke joins the party and Jubilee goes up a level, learning a new heal-spell and becoming +10 against Chaotic Evil.
While this story is more concerned with beating up ninjas than answering serious questions, it's still an important story, and not just because Psylocke is finally worth a damn after poncing around in pink and being mostly useless since she joined up, having been granted the formerly unheard of for telepathic characters ability to kick people's asses physically. For one thing, things seem like they're finally going in some kind of forward direction instead of just approaching the Angst Event Horizon--this is the first time the "band getting back together" subplot moves forward (Banshee and Forge's utterly pathetic Muir Island X-men don't count, as that's feeble window dressing for the Shadow King plot and it's utterly stupid anyways) and we're not just dicking around in stupid vignettes where Dazzler gets stalked by an obsessed fan or Colossus becomes an artist and finds Callisto's inner beauty or crap like that. Things are actually happening in Uncanny X-Men again, and thank God, too.
Despite the utterly silly plot that completely falls in on itself (and the Psylocke makeover, which ultimately requires two retcons a couple years down the road before it collapses under its own turgid convolution and everyone just pretends they never brought it up) when you think about it for more than two minutes, Lee brings an incredible energy and detail to the proceedings, ably assisted by Scott Williams (the Terry Austin to his John Byrne) in parts 1 and 3. Josef Rubinstein inks him on the middle chapter and while their styles don't consistently mesh quite as well, it gives the proceedings a darker, almost Kevin Nowlan-ish kinda vibe to them, which is an interesting effect.
The book then skips ahead to the late #260s, wherein Marvel gets a clue and put Jim Lee on the book full-time. They also decide to pull their finger out and get moving on the whole "getting the band back together business." But there's still time for a detour or two, as Uncanny X-Men #268 features an extended flashback with Captain America teaming up with Wolverine to beat up Nazis in a flashback story constructed with such care and precision it veritably screams that Jim Lee just felt like drawing Cap kicking ninja ass that month, plot be damned. We're still dealing with the fallout of the whole Psylocke/Hand business, as Matsuo and Fenris (or "who?" and "who, now?") team up in a moment so dramatic one can't stop scratching their heads and/or shrugging (for all they tried, did anyone manage to make Fenris interesting? I never saw anyone who managed it) It's a sound enough issue and Cap demonstrating the Law of Conservation of Ninjitsu is exciting enough, but in the grand scheme of things, it's not much.
#269 (yes! Consecutive issues!) features the return of Rogue, who was killed off awhile back in a rather pointless exercise that is best left unexplained. Why she doesn't instantly return when everyone else did is never properly explained, as the main point of the issue seems to be the following:
1. Rogue is back, and a little disorientated by everything that's happened since she's been gone.
2. She doesn't have her powers and can touch people again. Of course, as befitting a character whose entire raison d'etre had heretofore been that she covered herself from head to toe to keep anyone from touching her lest she be further traumatised, decides to run around more or less fully or partially naked the rest of the issue. Because Female Empowerment, that's why.
3. Carol Danvers/Ms. Marvel has somehow split off from Rogue (not that they were ever merged to begin with, but if Claremont doesn't care about this vaguely important story point, why should you?) gets taken over by the Shadow King and starts turning into a zombie, except when Rogue turns into a zombie. It's all very muddled, and really only exists to get Rogue into the Savage Land with Magneto, who is . . .down there doing stuff for . . .some reason. It doesn't flow logically from the last time we saw him in Uncanny, but . . .whatever.
It's an OK issue, and I suspect probably birthed the "Rogue fetish" some comics fans have to this very day, and it keeps that bloody Shadow King plot ticking over (which is finally going to end in about ten issues after going this side of forever) and sets up the Rogue/Magneto story which is actually (and I say this rather unironically) a very well-told story, free of a lot of Claremont's more annoying writerly tics, and not bloated to the point of ricidulousness.
We skip of the X-Tinction Agenda, because why include three issues that won't make much sense when you can get the trade of the whole crossover and enjoy the three top artists on the top X-Books--Jim Lee! Rob Liefeld! Jon Bogdanove!--and give Marvel more of your money? Just as well again, as X-Men vs Genosha round 2 just makes it more and more plain why every time Genosha comes up, creators seem to want to kill it.
We do, however, get Uncanny #273, the big "artists jam" issue, which is generally a "well, whatever shall we do now?" issue wherein everyone sits around and tries to figure out what next for the X-Men post X-Tinction Agenda and Cable challenges everyone to be all 90's and proactive because JUUUUSSSSSSSSTICE! (Thank god we learned our lesson and don't do stories like that anymore, eh?) There's a certain metatextual fun to be had with Claremont fretting over the challenge artist-driven books that characters like Cable headline and embody throw down to his more writer-driven comics and we check in with the Shadow King yet again who shows up, scares the hell out of everyone, and leaves. Naturally, everyone forgets to mention anything about it to anyone else because comparing notes is for losers. One of the things that bothers me about the Shadow King stuff is that it makes the X-Men look really stupid, and when you consider that they started this volume jobbing to a damn egg, that's really saying something.
But no time for that--we're off to space, as the X-Men don the blue and yellow uniforms for some reason and putter off to space at the end of this issue. We pick back up with them in the last few pages of Uncanny #274, having schlepped off to the Shi'ar empire for some light bondage and also to pick up Professor X.
The bulk of Uncanny #274 is taken up with Magneto and Rogue in the Savage Land, with Ka-Zar, fighting Zaladane. Zaladane is the mistress of magnetism after stealing Polaris' powers in the that story I alluded to earlier. Zaladane is probably far more famous for being the boss of the first level of Sega's X-Men game than for any impact she made on the comics, and this story will do nothing to disprove that.
She's basically in the story to be a raving loony super villain with magnetic powers and provide a contrast with Magneto, who spends most of this issue contrasting her behavior with his own in bygone days when he was a raving loony super villain with magnetic powers. These two issues do a really good job of giving some structure to the breadth of Magneto's character and makes a game effort to reconcile Claremont's vision of Magneto as an anti-villian/anti-hero with his depiction elsewhere as a fairly straightforward villain. Haunted by the choices that brought him here and those he knows he will soon make, it's a really strong story, despite the rather shaky track it runs on.
Oh and there's some sizzling sexual tension with Rogue because Claremont knew the Internet would one day be full of fanfic about the two of them or something. It's not made too much of--we're just supposed to feel Rogue gets close enough to be bitterly let down by the path Magneto ultimately chooses.
#275 brings us two parallel stories--one involving the X-Men kicking Shi'ar ass which is there so Jim Lee can draw vibrant, exciting crazy fight scenes that burst off the page. Oh yes, and Deathbird seems to be the nominal villainess and in what should come as no surprise to anyone, she looks extra slutty because Female Empowerment, that's why.
The B-story--the resolution of the Magneto/Zaladane stuff--plays a bit better. While it's generally a dust-up in the Savage Land (supposedly it has global implications, but that's never really successfully sold to us) and oh look Rogue has her powers kick back in thanks to the miracle of Plot Convenience, the whole business is generally there to get us to the climax of the story:
Magneto, his powers fully restored, has Zaladane at his mercy. If he closes his hand, a dozen pieces of metal shrapnel turn her into a pincushion. When entreaties to his sense of honor and his humanity from Rogue and outright threats from Nick Fury fail to budge him, Magneto declares his intentions, partially quoted below:
It's a great moment, and it's that rare face/heel turn that feels earned. It also--despite this not necessarily being the intent--sets up Magneto's return in X-Men #1-3, wherein he's more completely in villain mode. Read back to back they form a neat little arc that gets him into place without it feeling so very forced.
Meanwhile, the X-Men have overthrown Deathbird, met up with Professor X again and generally everything seems to be going swell. Except for the little detail that Professor X seems to be evil as hell and none of their familiar Shi'Ar chums seem to be behaving quite like themselves. #276-277 give the reason for this is--most of them are replaced by Skrulls, which might have had a bit more impact had they been willing to make that a little more explicit in the dialogue and also had Jim Lee done a better job of making the Skrulls look like Skrulls.
But this is an action romp, so such finer story points are glossed over in the name of action and spectacular set piece fights, and credit where it's due, it looks amazing. At this moment in time, his style is fairly clean and shiny and doesn't have the heavy crosshatching of his later Hush-era stuff. It pops off the page. This is, I should mention, within that short honeymoon period wherein Gambit was somewhat more tolerable a character (your mileage may vary) and he has some great moments in these two issues--taking on the Skrull-Starjammers and blasting Gladiator with his entire deck of cards point-blank are my favourites (I am always up for Gladiator getting his ass kicked, I should mention ) and things kind of stop rather than resolve neatly because upon being rescued, Professor X is like "Oh crap. The Shadow King. Maybe I better go back and fix that. Of course had I just told someone in the first damn place none of this would be necessary but as I am both the most powerful mutant mind on Earth and a goddamn idiot, I forgot to do that." and we're finally on the way to the end of this Shadow King nonsense. There were plans afoot to revisit the whole Skrull thing, but they came to naught more than a pinup in X-Men #1.
#277 is the end of the book proper, but we get a back-up strip from Classic X-Men, which is a perfectly rubbish story on its own merits, but it's Lee's first take on the X-Men, and so it's included. It's not very good and the whole thing turns on Storm being an utter bitch to the one complete stranger in New York City who can fire disintegrator beams from his hands (really, what are the odds?), and, well . . Storm ends up being more of an utter bitch again and really, I've spent far too much time on this than it's worth.
Anyways, if you wanted to see what the 90's were all about and see the flip from writer driven comic to artist-driven comics actually happen, this trade is a way to get a feel for it in one sitting. You also get to experience the X-Men's low point as a franchise and its rebirth all in the same go (Uncanny was a deeply schizophrenic comic during this time, and those times when Claremont was off his meds were teeth-bleedingly brutal) and, if you have fond memories of that time, this will be an excellent rush of nostalgia, good and bad, as another evolution of the X-men franchise doesn't happen until the Morrison era.
Hm . . .wonder if my appreciation for this early 90's stuff will erode my "cred" as a blogger? Nahh--that presupposes I had any to begin with.
For one thing, it saved Uncanny X-Men from utter creative collapse. The X-Men Visionaries: Jim Lee trade paperback gives us an excellent cross-section of what that transition looked like.
Not in terms of sales--Uncanny X-Men was still Marvel's top seller, more or less--but creatively they ended the 80's in a right awful state. Chris Claremont, now a decade and change as writer of the comic seemed to either be burning out or hell-bent on dragging the title into the most turgid boring long-term plot seen up to that point.
Basically, after Fall of the Mutants, the X-Men are considered "dead" and have relocated to Australia because, well . . .we're not sure, exactly. The general notion seems to be that the X-Men will ride in, save the day, and leave before they can be thanked (not unlike the Lone Ranger, I guess--that's the metaphor they keep using) they vanish and everyone thinks of them in hushed tones as this awesome group of strangers who totally rocked the faces of the bad guys.
The dramatic effect of all this is lost on the reader, perhaps because the X-Men at this point consist of Dazzler, Longshot, Havok, Storm, Wolverine, Colossus, Rogue, Psylocke and Paul Roma--wait, not him. It's not one of the more awe-inspiring lineups to be sure.
Anyways, in the background of all this is the return of the X-Men's oldest and most feared foe The Shadow King.
Yeah. It was news to me as well. The Shadow King originally showed up in a flashback story in wherein Professor X busted Storm for nicking his wallet and fought a dangerously-close-to-racist-caricature Big Fat Egyptian Telepath Guy who illustrated to Xavier the inherent danger of mutant powers used for evil.
It was an OK done-in-one, but he came back anyways. The Shadow King returned in New Mutants a few years later because Bill Sinkiewicz really enjoyed drawing evil fat people that day or something. It involved mind control and slavery because hey, Chris Claremont, right?
Anyways, somehow the Shadow King comes back to life as a result of Polaris getting her powers taken away (in a story that, itself is so damned ridiculous I refuse to waste precious time recounting it) and becomes a living battery for negative emotions and spends a number of back pages stirring the pot on this plot. It never becomes interesting.
Jim Lee arrives on Uncanny X-Men #248 as a deputy penciller (as Marc Silvestri is on the way out) after a well-regarded Punisher War Journal run and his first big break embarrassing himself at the tail end of Bill Mantlo's Alpha Flight run (but then, who didn't?) His first issue is, naturally in the midst of several dangling plotlines, one involving the Reavers (Nearly the bottom of the barrel of the X-Men's rogue's gallery) and Nanny and the Orphan-Maker (Under the barrel itself and digging deeper still) The issue itself is well-drawn and generally action packed. It is also, however, dangerously insane and incoherent, as it covers Longshot leaving because an aborigine told him to and the X-Men getting taken to school by an evil robot egg (not that one) and their own intense personal stupidity. Oh yes, and Storm dies--again, for frighteningly little reason.
This is, as a reader of the title for the entirety of my life, undoubtedly the X-Men's low point (yes even Chuck Austen was better than this). From here, the team angsts, angsts some more, gets killed off yet some more, goes through the Siege Perilous in an issue that aspires and fails to reach the general coherence of a Rob Liefeld comic about an Ultimate Warrior promo and the title begins running twice-monthly because good Christ, once a month of this utter tripe wasn't enough, I guess.
The overall goal is this, I suppose--the X-Men are scattered all over the globe, living different lives with no memory of their past as X-Men. The plot of the X-Men coming together again will parallel the rise of the Shadow King, culminating in a big fight between the two in Uncanny X-Men #300 and it will be a Crowning Moment of Awesome. Whether anyone will give a shit by this point is left up to the individual reader to decide.
Oh yes, and some issues will be drawn by Bill Jaaska, which if it isn't a violation of the Geneva Convention, damn well ought to be.
Anyways, thankfully, little of that makes the book, because we pick back up with the three-parts of Acts of Vengeance crossover from Uncanny #256-258, wherein Wolverine fights the Mandarin. I am totally OK with this instead of him stinking up Iron Man again, I should add. While this has only superficial things in common with the Acts of Vengeance crossover proper, it does give us a pretty sound installment of the overriding X-Men plot of the late 200s--that of getting the band back together. Wolverine with Jubilee (who is absolutely, positively not Carrie Kelly in Asian drag) encounter Psylocke, who, upon going through the Siege Perilous ended up with those wacky ninjas the Hand, who are presently working for the Mandarin (The Mandarin, looking very Shredder-ish in this arc, brings to mind the other appendage-named ninja clan) Being that ninjas are stealthy assassins who kill silently and leave no trace, naturally Psylocke runs around with purple hair and a skimpy swimsuit stabbing people with her new psychic knife which at this point is only "the ultimate focus of her psi-powers." Because Female Empowerment, that's why.
Anyways, she beats up Wolverine and tries to turn him into the Hand's master assassin (another dropped plot thread that an enormous amount of time was sunk into only to be abandoned, then picked up ten years later for something else) This doesn't work, and upon defeating the Mandarin, Psylocke joins the party and Jubilee goes up a level, learning a new heal-spell and becoming +10 against Chaotic Evil.
While this story is more concerned with beating up ninjas than answering serious questions, it's still an important story, and not just because Psylocke is finally worth a damn after poncing around in pink and being mostly useless since she joined up, having been granted the formerly unheard of for telepathic characters ability to kick people's asses physically. For one thing, things seem like they're finally going in some kind of forward direction instead of just approaching the Angst Event Horizon--this is the first time the "band getting back together" subplot moves forward (Banshee and Forge's utterly pathetic Muir Island X-men don't count, as that's feeble window dressing for the Shadow King plot and it's utterly stupid anyways) and we're not just dicking around in stupid vignettes where Dazzler gets stalked by an obsessed fan or Colossus becomes an artist and finds Callisto's inner beauty or crap like that. Things are actually happening in Uncanny X-Men again, and thank God, too.
Despite the utterly silly plot that completely falls in on itself (and the Psylocke makeover, which ultimately requires two retcons a couple years down the road before it collapses under its own turgid convolution and everyone just pretends they never brought it up) when you think about it for more than two minutes, Lee brings an incredible energy and detail to the proceedings, ably assisted by Scott Williams (the Terry Austin to his John Byrne) in parts 1 and 3. Josef Rubinstein inks him on the middle chapter and while their styles don't consistently mesh quite as well, it gives the proceedings a darker, almost Kevin Nowlan-ish kinda vibe to them, which is an interesting effect.
The book then skips ahead to the late #260s, wherein Marvel gets a clue and put Jim Lee on the book full-time. They also decide to pull their finger out and get moving on the whole "getting the band back together business." But there's still time for a detour or two, as Uncanny X-Men #268 features an extended flashback with Captain America teaming up with Wolverine to beat up Nazis in a flashback story constructed with such care and precision it veritably screams that Jim Lee just felt like drawing Cap kicking ninja ass that month, plot be damned. We're still dealing with the fallout of the whole Psylocke/Hand business, as Matsuo and Fenris (or "who?" and "who, now?") team up in a moment so dramatic one can't stop scratching their heads and/or shrugging (for all they tried, did anyone manage to make Fenris interesting? I never saw anyone who managed it) It's a sound enough issue and Cap demonstrating the Law of Conservation of Ninjitsu is exciting enough, but in the grand scheme of things, it's not much.
#269 (yes! Consecutive issues!) features the return of Rogue, who was killed off awhile back in a rather pointless exercise that is best left unexplained. Why she doesn't instantly return when everyone else did is never properly explained, as the main point of the issue seems to be the following:
1. Rogue is back, and a little disorientated by everything that's happened since she's been gone.
2. She doesn't have her powers and can touch people again. Of course, as befitting a character whose entire raison d'etre had heretofore been that she covered herself from head to toe to keep anyone from touching her lest she be further traumatised, decides to run around more or less fully or partially naked the rest of the issue. Because Female Empowerment, that's why.
3. Carol Danvers/Ms. Marvel has somehow split off from Rogue (not that they were ever merged to begin with, but if Claremont doesn't care about this vaguely important story point, why should you?) gets taken over by the Shadow King and starts turning into a zombie, except when Rogue turns into a zombie. It's all very muddled, and really only exists to get Rogue into the Savage Land with Magneto, who is . . .down there doing stuff for . . .some reason. It doesn't flow logically from the last time we saw him in Uncanny, but . . .whatever.
It's an OK issue, and I suspect probably birthed the "Rogue fetish" some comics fans have to this very day, and it keeps that bloody Shadow King plot ticking over (which is finally going to end in about ten issues after going this side of forever) and sets up the Rogue/Magneto story which is actually (and I say this rather unironically) a very well-told story, free of a lot of Claremont's more annoying writerly tics, and not bloated to the point of ricidulousness.
We skip of the X-Tinction Agenda, because why include three issues that won't make much sense when you can get the trade of the whole crossover and enjoy the three top artists on the top X-Books--Jim Lee! Rob Liefeld! Jon Bogdanove!--and give Marvel more of your money? Just as well again, as X-Men vs Genosha round 2 just makes it more and more plain why every time Genosha comes up, creators seem to want to kill it.
We do, however, get Uncanny #273, the big "artists jam" issue, which is generally a "well, whatever shall we do now?" issue wherein everyone sits around and tries to figure out what next for the X-Men post X-Tinction Agenda and Cable challenges everyone to be all 90's and proactive because JUUUUSSSSSSSSTICE! (Thank god we learned our lesson and don't do stories like that anymore, eh?) There's a certain metatextual fun to be had with Claremont fretting over the challenge artist-driven books that characters like Cable headline and embody throw down to his more writer-driven comics and we check in with the Shadow King yet again who shows up, scares the hell out of everyone, and leaves. Naturally, everyone forgets to mention anything about it to anyone else because comparing notes is for losers. One of the things that bothers me about the Shadow King stuff is that it makes the X-Men look really stupid, and when you consider that they started this volume jobbing to a damn egg, that's really saying something.
But no time for that--we're off to space, as the X-Men don the blue and yellow uniforms for some reason and putter off to space at the end of this issue. We pick back up with them in the last few pages of Uncanny #274, having schlepped off to the Shi'ar empire for some light bondage and also to pick up Professor X.
The bulk of Uncanny #274 is taken up with Magneto and Rogue in the Savage Land, with Ka-Zar, fighting Zaladane. Zaladane is the mistress of magnetism after stealing Polaris' powers in the that story I alluded to earlier. Zaladane is probably far more famous for being the boss of the first level of Sega's X-Men game than for any impact she made on the comics, and this story will do nothing to disprove that.
She's basically in the story to be a raving loony super villain with magnetic powers and provide a contrast with Magneto, who spends most of this issue contrasting her behavior with his own in bygone days when he was a raving loony super villain with magnetic powers. These two issues do a really good job of giving some structure to the breadth of Magneto's character and makes a game effort to reconcile Claremont's vision of Magneto as an anti-villian/anti-hero with his depiction elsewhere as a fairly straightforward villain. Haunted by the choices that brought him here and those he knows he will soon make, it's a really strong story, despite the rather shaky track it runs on.
Oh and there's some sizzling sexual tension with Rogue because Claremont knew the Internet would one day be full of fanfic about the two of them or something. It's not made too much of--we're just supposed to feel Rogue gets close enough to be bitterly let down by the path Magneto ultimately chooses.
#275 brings us two parallel stories--one involving the X-Men kicking Shi'ar ass which is there so Jim Lee can draw vibrant, exciting crazy fight scenes that burst off the page. Oh yes, and Deathbird seems to be the nominal villainess and in what should come as no surprise to anyone, she looks extra slutty because Female Empowerment, that's why.
The B-story--the resolution of the Magneto/Zaladane stuff--plays a bit better. While it's generally a dust-up in the Savage Land (supposedly it has global implications, but that's never really successfully sold to us) and oh look Rogue has her powers kick back in thanks to the miracle of Plot Convenience, the whole business is generally there to get us to the climax of the story:
Magneto, his powers fully restored, has Zaladane at his mercy. If he closes his hand, a dozen pieces of metal shrapnel turn her into a pincushion. When entreaties to his sense of honor and his humanity from Rogue and outright threats from Nick Fury fail to budge him, Magneto declares his intentions, partially quoted below:
"The New Mutants were left in my charge and they suffered for it because I tried to pattern myself after Charles Xavier. I am not Charles Xavier, I will never be Charles Xavier. I was a fool to try. As he was, for believing I could succeed."
[Zaladane gets pincushioned here]
"My people are in danger--more so than ever before . . .and a kinder, gentler, Magneto cannot save them."
[Zaladane gets pincushioned here]
"My people are in danger--more so than ever before . . .and a kinder, gentler, Magneto cannot save them."
It's a great moment, and it's that rare face/heel turn that feels earned. It also--despite this not necessarily being the intent--sets up Magneto's return in X-Men #1-3, wherein he's more completely in villain mode. Read back to back they form a neat little arc that gets him into place without it feeling so very forced.
Meanwhile, the X-Men have overthrown Deathbird, met up with Professor X again and generally everything seems to be going swell. Except for the little detail that Professor X seems to be evil as hell and none of their familiar Shi'Ar chums seem to be behaving quite like themselves. #276-277 give the reason for this is--most of them are replaced by Skrulls, which might have had a bit more impact had they been willing to make that a little more explicit in the dialogue and also had Jim Lee done a better job of making the Skrulls look like Skrulls.
But this is an action romp, so such finer story points are glossed over in the name of action and spectacular set piece fights, and credit where it's due, it looks amazing. At this moment in time, his style is fairly clean and shiny and doesn't have the heavy crosshatching of his later Hush-era stuff. It pops off the page. This is, I should mention, within that short honeymoon period wherein Gambit was somewhat more tolerable a character (your mileage may vary) and he has some great moments in these two issues--taking on the Skrull-Starjammers and blasting Gladiator with his entire deck of cards point-blank are my favourites (I am always up for Gladiator getting his ass kicked, I should mention ) and things kind of stop rather than resolve neatly because upon being rescued, Professor X is like "Oh crap. The Shadow King. Maybe I better go back and fix that. Of course had I just told someone in the first damn place none of this would be necessary but as I am both the most powerful mutant mind on Earth and a goddamn idiot, I forgot to do that." and we're finally on the way to the end of this Shadow King nonsense. There were plans afoot to revisit the whole Skrull thing, but they came to naught more than a pinup in X-Men #1.
#277 is the end of the book proper, but we get a back-up strip from Classic X-Men, which is a perfectly rubbish story on its own merits, but it's Lee's first take on the X-Men, and so it's included. It's not very good and the whole thing turns on Storm being an utter bitch to the one complete stranger in New York City who can fire disintegrator beams from his hands (really, what are the odds?), and, well . . Storm ends up being more of an utter bitch again and really, I've spent far too much time on this than it's worth.
Anyways, if you wanted to see what the 90's were all about and see the flip from writer driven comic to artist-driven comics actually happen, this trade is a way to get a feel for it in one sitting. You also get to experience the X-Men's low point as a franchise and its rebirth all in the same go (Uncanny was a deeply schizophrenic comic during this time, and those times when Claremont was off his meds were teeth-bleedingly brutal) and, if you have fond memories of that time, this will be an excellent rush of nostalgia, good and bad, as another evolution of the X-men franchise doesn't happen until the Morrison era.
Hm . . .wonder if my appreciation for this early 90's stuff will erode my "cred" as a blogger? Nahh--that presupposes I had any to begin with.
I Would Be Remiss . . .
. . .if I didn't post to MightyGodKing's epic and wholly deserved takedown of JUSTICE LEAGUE: GAY FOR JUSTICE (which, yes, apparently finished. I was rather surprised myself. Amazing how when all these supposedly world-changing events get stacked on on top of the other and start getting later and later they get lost in the shuffle) I've excerpted some of it below:
"I mean, I know there are going to be some fanboys who are all “no I want gritty and realistic comics about people in tights who fight crime,” and sure, those have their place I guess, but seriously, this is a comic where they kill off a five-year-old girl for added drama. Who the fuck writes that comic? Who the fuck even thinks that comic is a good idea? How many people at DC must have gotten hit in the head with a sledgehammer to have them all think “gosh, this superhero comic isn’t exciting enough… let’s kill off the cute little girl!” Was it a really fucking big sledgehammer? Because I can literally not think of a single person on the entire planet, who, when asked to tell a story, goes to the “let’s kill a little girl” well. They avoid killing children in slasher movies because they think that it’s tasteless. That’s what Cry for Justice is: it’s the comic book for people who think that slasher flicks aren’t edgy enough."
It's well worth a read.
Friday, February 19, 2010
The Wheel Of Fate Is Turning (Again)
Longtime readers of this blog will note that last year I sang the praises of Blazblue: Calamity Trigger, the little fighting game that could. Mind you, I was still playing the game's Story Mode through at the time and only a couple months after I finished the True Ending (which explains the multiple time paradoxes that frame the story and how pretty much every ending actually happens in a closed-off time loop--seriously, if I were to try to explain to you, your head would explode, so I'll let the TV Tropes page do what it can) It wasn't a hugely successful game, but it was successful enough to get an update, which, as some may grit their teeth, is more of a Championship Edition style upgrade, but with a twist--since Blazblue's True Ending smashes the time loop that the first game took place in, time is free to take a new path (indicated in the new game's subtitle, hence, our sequel/revision/whatever, Blazblue: Continuum Shift
And here's the intro from the arcade version:
Man, I am so stoked for this.
And here's the intro from the arcade version:
Man, I am so stoked for this.
Monday, February 15, 2010
The Whole Damn Thing--THE PRISONER, Episode 17
(NOTE: I realise this episode is baffling, contentious, and utterly mystifying in spots. I also realise people have been writing huge great books of analysis and criticism of The Prisoner, and this episode specifically and I'm liable to come no closer to deciphering all the symbolism and all in this episode. So--my analysis will focus on the parts of the episode that I have a reasonably good handle on and also seem, in my eyes to being the "main idea" of the piece)
Right--Let's do this.
Episode 17--"Fall Out"
Last time, No. 2 and No. 6 squared off in a contest of wills and endurance. And No. 2 lost. Not just the contest, but his life as well. Upon winning, he declared his intention to meet Number One.
And off to the races we go. After a quick wardrobe change (back to his suit from "Arrival," indicating a return to "himself" or the completion of a circular journey, something that comes back a little later) Following a hallucinatory interlude he's taken to a place under the Village, which smacks of "Bond Villain Lair" as much as it does the usual queer aesthetic of the Village. One could be forgiven for thinking this was a completely separate entity from the Village.
But if one reads the cues, it's very much the Village. No. 6's guide dons a robe and mask and disappears into a mass of similarly dressed people, all of whom seem to be seated behind signs indicating generalities.
All of which snaps into focus as we meet the Judge, who declares that No. 6 has "vindicated the right of the individual to be individual" and declares that the assembly behind him has been called in a matter of crisis--to address the question of "rebellion." Eventually No. 6 will get his reward--whatever that might be--but first, he (and us) sit through the presentation of two cases of "failed revolt:"
The first is No. 48 (who you might recognise as The Kid from "Living in Harmony," and depending on how often you think about this stuff, may or may not be considered the same character) No. 48 is called by the Judge "Uncoordinated Youth . . .rebelling against any accepted norm because it must."
No. 48's trip seems to be to be as boisterous, loud and disruptive as possible (as he demonstrates a few times in the course of his "case") for no other reason than what is termed in the Internet age as "the lulz." But hidden within his seemingly random acts of rebellion are veiled messages aimed at the older, established, order (specifically that however rebellious he is, No. 48 is still one of them and is owed something by the community) As to what dooms his rebellion to failure, the clue may be in how The Judge attempts--somewhat deliriously--to communicate on No. 48's level and how the song he constantly sings is subsumed when the entire "jury" joins in with him. His rebellion "fails" because the elements of it can be co-opted by the established order and the "soul" of his rebellion (whatever that is--remember, this is the adolescent, "Whatever mom and dad are for I'm against" kind of rebellion) and if his rebellion is so easily defused, the notion is that ultimately he will one day quiet down and join the crowd.
Failed Rebel No. 2 is, appropriately, No. 2--resurrected for this occasion with the help of shaving cream, a sink plunger, and blinky lights. His crime is "being an established, stable member of the community and turning upon and biting the hand that feeds him." As dodgy as the circumstances of this are, it gets us to a rather good and meaty scene, wherein No. 2 explains what brought him to where he finds himself--he had power, influence, and all he imagined he wanted, and really only upon losing it ("dying") did he realise how ephemeral it all was--after all, the power he so coveted has moved to No. 6 with nary a pause in things and even the small dignity of his death was taken away from him.
The real crime, in his eyes "was that [he] resisted for so short a time." Only now, stripped of his power and his old life can he find it in himself to resist, simply because he has nothing else to lose. But even though this act of rebellion is heartening (and Leo McKern does method spitting not equaled until Timothy Dalton in that Dr. Who episode) his rebellion fails because it's too late--he's already been compromised by the life he leads and his rebellion can be ignored as the ravings a harmless crank who's just grumpy because he's not the one in charge again--the perception of fundamental dishonesty negates its power. And how sincere could be be, anyways? Dangle the promise of the same power he possessed before and wouldn't he fall back in line?
So now it's No. 6's turn. It's somewhat puzzling that after 16 episodes of trying to destroy the man every which way they could think of and a few no one had considered up to now that they're now venerating him as though he just cured cancer or turned water into wine. The Judge gives him everything he needs to return to his life--money, a key to his house, traveler's cheques--he can go anywhere he wants.
Or he can stay and lead them by example. That bit ends up being a bit more fraught than one imagines--Upon addressing the assembly, No. 6 can barely get three words out because everyone is shouting "I! I! I!" at the top of their lungs. This calls to mind the scene in Monty Python's Life of Brian where Brian exhorts his followers that they are all individuals, wherein they bleat out, in perfect unison, that they are all individuals.
So, leading this lot isn't an option. Or it's not an option anyone could take without going absolutely nuts. So all that's left is to meet Number One, who waits at the top of a huge rocket (the rocket thing is a bit puzzling unless you study some of The Prisoner's apocrypha--there's a subtle notion about The Village being a "perfect blueprint for world order" and in one alternate take of the pennyfarthing symbol over the end credits, the small-wheel microcosm--Earth/The Village--spins against the big-wheel macrocosm of the Universe, suggesting that the ultimate goal of the Village is to export itself beyond the planet. The globes that adorn Number One's lair seem to suggest this as well) Number One is, like the assemblymen down below, masked and anonymous. It's only when No. 6 reaches for the mask that things get . . .odd.
A quote from "Arrival" plays again and again, settling into a steady drone of "I . . .I . . .I . . ." (completing another "circle"--see the assemblymen in the previous scene) One mask is removed, for another, and No. 6 sees . . .a very nutty version of himself.
According to McGoohan, Number One was always envisaged as the ultimate threat--the evil side of oneself. If we take the episode literally, McGoohan suggests that perhaps the ideal way to deal with evil side of ourselves is to chase it round the table a few times, lock in in the nosecone of the rocket and shoot it into space. But as blatant readings of this episode usually collapse into gibbering nonsense, let's assume there's a deeper meaning here.
Number One is "defeated" (or disposed of) and No. 6 frees Nos. 2 and 48 fight their way out of the Village in a thrilling jailbreak. The Village is evacuated, Rover is destroyed, and it all seems appropriately climactic and cathartic. But it's actually this (pretty much dialogue-free) stretch that provides some very intriguing possible answers.
For one thing, the Village isn't in Lithuania or Morocco or whatever . . .it's just down the A20. That this inescapable "prison" is so close to No. 6's home suggests in a sense that the prison isn't necessarily a place as much as it is a state of mind. There's a strong notion, especially in McGoohan's later interviews that he saw the story of The Prisoner as a cycle--one no sooner slays his Number One than he must face it again, one no sooner "escapes" than becomes trapped again.
Completing circles, again.
No. 48 hits the road, hitchhiking one way and then the other, going whichever way seems like the most interesting. This echoes his "rebellion"--there's no real direction behind it, no idea except the fire of youth driving him up one road or across to the next.
No. 2 returns to a place of power, once again one the road to becoming the man he was. Or maybe not--maybe with a second chance and a opportunity to look from the "outside" and what brought him to where he was, maybe things will be different.
No. 6 returns home, hopefully a little wiser (although the fact that his door is suddenly automatic like his Village flat was is a bit surprising) and, like No. 2 seemingly appears to be on the same course that got him into this mess to begin with (the final shot of the series is an echo of the beginning of the first) Whether history repeats itself nor not we won't know--or can't--because that's where we leave it.
In a later interview McGoohan spoke about the fact that one couldn't absolutely rebel against society--if you did, you'd get ulcers or worse still, lose your mind. That ambivalence tempered with pragmatism ("this may not be completely "right" but I as a person have to find a way I can live in this world without compromising myself totally and without alienating myself from humanity"--or, to borrow Cheap Trick's little bit of wisdom "Surrender, but don't give yourself away") makes the rather elliptical ending work for me, even though I usually hate endings that contend that it's all a big journey around the wheel (not that there aren't enough symbolic clues to let you know that's waiting for you) it makes sense and the notion of it being an open and closed story all at once encourages the viewer to draw their own conclusions and formulate their own response to it.
As you can tell, I don't have all the answers to The Prisoner, and no one does (not on this side of the veil, anyway) But I think there are answers to be found, questions that one can ask oneself, things to be had fun with, things to be thought over. The worst kind of art provokes no reaction at all.
Fortunately, the one thing no one can ever accuse The Prisoner of doing is not provoking a reaction.
Right--Let's do this.
Episode 17--"Fall Out"
Last time, No. 2 and No. 6 squared off in a contest of wills and endurance. And No. 2 lost. Not just the contest, but his life as well. Upon winning, he declared his intention to meet Number One.
And off to the races we go. After a quick wardrobe change (back to his suit from "Arrival," indicating a return to "himself" or the completion of a circular journey, something that comes back a little later) Following a hallucinatory interlude he's taken to a place under the Village, which smacks of "Bond Villain Lair" as much as it does the usual queer aesthetic of the Village. One could be forgiven for thinking this was a completely separate entity from the Village.
But if one reads the cues, it's very much the Village. No. 6's guide dons a robe and mask and disappears into a mass of similarly dressed people, all of whom seem to be seated behind signs indicating generalities.
All of which snaps into focus as we meet the Judge, who declares that No. 6 has "vindicated the right of the individual to be individual" and declares that the assembly behind him has been called in a matter of crisis--to address the question of "rebellion." Eventually No. 6 will get his reward--whatever that might be--but first, he (and us) sit through the presentation of two cases of "failed revolt:"
The first is No. 48 (who you might recognise as The Kid from "Living in Harmony," and depending on how often you think about this stuff, may or may not be considered the same character) No. 48 is called by the Judge "Uncoordinated Youth . . .rebelling against any accepted norm because it must."
No. 48's trip seems to be to be as boisterous, loud and disruptive as possible (as he demonstrates a few times in the course of his "case") for no other reason than what is termed in the Internet age as "the lulz." But hidden within his seemingly random acts of rebellion are veiled messages aimed at the older, established, order (specifically that however rebellious he is, No. 48 is still one of them and is owed something by the community) As to what dooms his rebellion to failure, the clue may be in how The Judge attempts--somewhat deliriously--to communicate on No. 48's level and how the song he constantly sings is subsumed when the entire "jury" joins in with him. His rebellion "fails" because the elements of it can be co-opted by the established order and the "soul" of his rebellion (whatever that is--remember, this is the adolescent, "Whatever mom and dad are for I'm against" kind of rebellion) and if his rebellion is so easily defused, the notion is that ultimately he will one day quiet down and join the crowd.
Failed Rebel No. 2 is, appropriately, No. 2--resurrected for this occasion with the help of shaving cream, a sink plunger, and blinky lights. His crime is "being an established, stable member of the community and turning upon and biting the hand that feeds him." As dodgy as the circumstances of this are, it gets us to a rather good and meaty scene, wherein No. 2 explains what brought him to where he finds himself--he had power, influence, and all he imagined he wanted, and really only upon losing it ("dying") did he realise how ephemeral it all was--after all, the power he so coveted has moved to No. 6 with nary a pause in things and even the small dignity of his death was taken away from him.
The real crime, in his eyes "was that [he] resisted for so short a time." Only now, stripped of his power and his old life can he find it in himself to resist, simply because he has nothing else to lose. But even though this act of rebellion is heartening (and Leo McKern does method spitting not equaled until Timothy Dalton in that Dr. Who episode) his rebellion fails because it's too late--he's already been compromised by the life he leads and his rebellion can be ignored as the ravings a harmless crank who's just grumpy because he's not the one in charge again--the perception of fundamental dishonesty negates its power. And how sincere could be be, anyways? Dangle the promise of the same power he possessed before and wouldn't he fall back in line?
So now it's No. 6's turn. It's somewhat puzzling that after 16 episodes of trying to destroy the man every which way they could think of and a few no one had considered up to now that they're now venerating him as though he just cured cancer or turned water into wine. The Judge gives him everything he needs to return to his life--money, a key to his house, traveler's cheques--he can go anywhere he wants.
Or he can stay and lead them by example. That bit ends up being a bit more fraught than one imagines--Upon addressing the assembly, No. 6 can barely get three words out because everyone is shouting "I! I! I!" at the top of their lungs. This calls to mind the scene in Monty Python's Life of Brian where Brian exhorts his followers that they are all individuals, wherein they bleat out, in perfect unison, that they are all individuals.
So, leading this lot isn't an option. Or it's not an option anyone could take without going absolutely nuts. So all that's left is to meet Number One, who waits at the top of a huge rocket (the rocket thing is a bit puzzling unless you study some of The Prisoner's apocrypha--there's a subtle notion about The Village being a "perfect blueprint for world order" and in one alternate take of the pennyfarthing symbol over the end credits, the small-wheel microcosm--Earth/The Village--spins against the big-wheel macrocosm of the Universe, suggesting that the ultimate goal of the Village is to export itself beyond the planet. The globes that adorn Number One's lair seem to suggest this as well) Number One is, like the assemblymen down below, masked and anonymous. It's only when No. 6 reaches for the mask that things get . . .odd.
A quote from "Arrival" plays again and again, settling into a steady drone of "I . . .I . . .I . . ." (completing another "circle"--see the assemblymen in the previous scene) One mask is removed, for another, and No. 6 sees . . .a very nutty version of himself.
According to McGoohan, Number One was always envisaged as the ultimate threat--the evil side of oneself. If we take the episode literally, McGoohan suggests that perhaps the ideal way to deal with evil side of ourselves is to chase it round the table a few times, lock in in the nosecone of the rocket and shoot it into space. But as blatant readings of this episode usually collapse into gibbering nonsense, let's assume there's a deeper meaning here.
Number One is "defeated" (or disposed of) and No. 6 frees Nos. 2 and 48 fight their way out of the Village in a thrilling jailbreak. The Village is evacuated, Rover is destroyed, and it all seems appropriately climactic and cathartic. But it's actually this (pretty much dialogue-free) stretch that provides some very intriguing possible answers.
For one thing, the Village isn't in Lithuania or Morocco or whatever . . .it's just down the A20. That this inescapable "prison" is so close to No. 6's home suggests in a sense that the prison isn't necessarily a place as much as it is a state of mind. There's a strong notion, especially in McGoohan's later interviews that he saw the story of The Prisoner as a cycle--one no sooner slays his Number One than he must face it again, one no sooner "escapes" than becomes trapped again.
Completing circles, again.
No. 48 hits the road, hitchhiking one way and then the other, going whichever way seems like the most interesting. This echoes his "rebellion"--there's no real direction behind it, no idea except the fire of youth driving him up one road or across to the next.
No. 2 returns to a place of power, once again one the road to becoming the man he was. Or maybe not--maybe with a second chance and a opportunity to look from the "outside" and what brought him to where he was, maybe things will be different.
No. 6 returns home, hopefully a little wiser (although the fact that his door is suddenly automatic like his Village flat was is a bit surprising) and, like No. 2 seemingly appears to be on the same course that got him into this mess to begin with (the final shot of the series is an echo of the beginning of the first) Whether history repeats itself nor not we won't know--or can't--because that's where we leave it.
In a later interview McGoohan spoke about the fact that one couldn't absolutely rebel against society--if you did, you'd get ulcers or worse still, lose your mind. That ambivalence tempered with pragmatism ("this may not be completely "right" but I as a person have to find a way I can live in this world without compromising myself totally and without alienating myself from humanity"--or, to borrow Cheap Trick's little bit of wisdom "Surrender, but don't give yourself away") makes the rather elliptical ending work for me, even though I usually hate endings that contend that it's all a big journey around the wheel (not that there aren't enough symbolic clues to let you know that's waiting for you) it makes sense and the notion of it being an open and closed story all at once encourages the viewer to draw their own conclusions and formulate their own response to it.
As you can tell, I don't have all the answers to The Prisoner, and no one does (not on this side of the veil, anyway) But I think there are answers to be found, questions that one can ask oneself, things to be had fun with, things to be thought over. The worst kind of art provokes no reaction at all.
Fortunately, the one thing no one can ever accuse The Prisoner of doing is not provoking a reaction.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
50 Things I Had To Say About Avatar
Well, I did it. Being the whore for peer pressure that I am, I knuckled under and saw Avatar. In 3-d. What a trend-whore I am.
Naturally, as I am a loudmouth with a venue for my loudmouthery on the Innernet, I feel compelled to say something about it.
However, the crazy thing is . . .I don't really have a long dissertation about it. It was OK--nothing I'm in a hurry to see again or buy on DVD, it shows off the 3-d stuff pretty well but I am have no strong opinion about it one way or another, which is unusual for me, as I can usually find something to explode in an incandescent rage about, but here? Nahh. It was OK.
So, rather than try to weasel out of it and leave it at "Ehh, s'OK," I have elected instead to document some of the rather random thoughts I had about the movie. Ladies and jellyspoons, I give you 50 random thoughts about Avatar.
Naturally, as I am a loudmouth with a venue for my loudmouthery on the Innernet, I feel compelled to say something about it.
However, the crazy thing is . . .I don't really have a long dissertation about it. It was OK--nothing I'm in a hurry to see again or buy on DVD, it shows off the 3-d stuff pretty well but I am have no strong opinion about it one way or another, which is unusual for me, as I can usually find something to explode in an incandescent rage about, but here? Nahh. It was OK.
So, rather than try to weasel out of it and leave it at "Ehh, s'OK," I have elected instead to document some of the rather random thoughts I had about the movie. Ladies and jellyspoons, I give you 50 random thoughts about Avatar.
- Unobtanium? Really? They couldn't come up with another name somewhat more exotic and less on the nose than that? I hope TV Tropes had a good laugh at that one
- Let's go check--yep, they did.
- The older I get, the more I feel a bit conflicted about all these movies wherein a white savior comes along to learn the Deeply Spiritual Cultures societal mores (which he's automatically better at) and then becomes their leader and saves them from his own imperialistic group of evil honkies is more than a little patronising.
- Or racist.
- Funnily enough, I have seen the basic plot for Avatar about 25 years ago. Except it took place on a desert, and they called it Dune.
- This move has fewer sex offenders powered by anti-gravity devices, so it's a bit easier to take.
- Sigourney Weaver played Dianne Fossey, and plays Dianne Fossey if she would have had the option of wearing a gorilla suit to better blend in with the gorillas she was observing. That's the kind of meta referencing that folds in on itself with the same complicated patters that one might use to make a paper crane.
- Fun game to play while watching Avatar: Count how many time the lead actor's American Accent slips.
- The hammerhead shark elephant things are pretty inspired creature design. They were pretty damn gnarly.
- In fact, the planet and the floating mountains and stuff like that is mind-blowingly awesome, and feels so realistically done that it's a bit like watching a Discovery Channel documentary of a place that doesn't exist.
- The Na'Vi are . . .well, it's been a few months, I'm sure they're someone's fetish now.
- In fact, let's have a look at DeviantaAAAARRRRGH MY EYYYYYYEEESSSSS!
- There goes the last shreds of my innocence.
- This movie is comprised of so many predictable elements I was "ahead" of the plot at pretty much every turn.
- OK, so, everything in the planet is plug and play, and apparently the Na'Vi's hair actually has something that plugs into the animals and trees and stuff like that. So despite being a fully natural integrated ecosystem, Pandora is basically a big USB hub. Good to know.
- I'm pleased as punch that a USC linguist came up with the Na'Vi language, but, uhm . . .am I betraying my prejudices here when I say that by and large invented languages and stuff like that are a huge turn-off? If you feel the need to do it, well OK, but for God's sake please spend as much time on the story as you do on that, otherwise it's just gonna seem like empty show-offery.
- I kinda like that the romance (if you can call it that) is predicated on him being a non-entity and her insulting him at every opportunity until they get their USB dongles together and are all of a sudden in love sweet love for no other reason than the plot demands it.
- Reminds me very much of my relationships, except I never took any ladies out for a night of shooting arrows at things and learning the proper ceremonial way to shank them.
- I thought dinner and a movie would be enough.
- I'm kind of a sentimentalist that way.
- Hmm . . .wonder if the legend about the red dragon that no one else but this one venerated guy could ride will be important later?
- Oh hell, Wes Studi's in the movie, which pretty much guarantees he's gonna be dead before the end credits. Look, he's a good actor and it's not his fault that a Native American actor was picked to play huge-ass Thai kickboxer Sagat in Street Fighter--the man has to eat, for Christ's sake. Stop punishing him for one little mistake.
- And it has no parallel at all with Muad'ib riding the sandworms, nope. Couldn't possibly.
- Military dude needs a mustache so he can twirl the hell out of it.
- In parts, this movie reminds me of Ferngully.
- Not sure that's a good thing.
- Na'vi sex is . . .well, I'm changing USB devices in my computer as I type this and . . .it's kind of like that, only blue-er and somewhat less than erotic.
- But getting in on in sacred places shows how spiritual you are. Just ask Billy Jack or Columbo--they'll back me up on this one.
- You know, right before the whole run-up to the attack on Hometree, our heroes just kinda sit down and sulk for a good long stretch of time. I dare say I don't think much of our heroes' level of pro-activity.
- "Hometree" sounds like a bit of slag that's gone wrong, doesn't it?
- More and more it reminds me of where the Shirt Tales used to live.
- Except they had a cool rocket car and all the Na'vi have is USB 2.0.
- OK, so no one who's had their body downloaded into an Avatar at Funky Glowing Trees has ever survived the process. I wonder if this little tidbit of information will come in handy later?
- And that it will have no correlation at all to that moment when Muad'dib took the Water of Life, which every man up to that point that had tried to do had died horribly.
- Clearly, this movie makes me want to re-read Dune.
- Y'all should, too. But stop after book #4. Trust me.
- So all this stuff about the Earthers blowing the shit out of Hometree and the several minutes long montage of the Na'vi stumbling around shell-shocked and dislocated . . .wonder if that's an intentional parallel for anything from our history, say U.S. history? It all seems so familiar, somehow.
- Things this movie has taught me--the baddest airborne predator on an alien planet never looks up, meaning that altitude solves everything or the Na'vi WAY oversold the badass red dragon.
- Which, sure enough, our hero tamed and the Na'vi acted like he'd just cured cancer. I must be psychic.
- Credit where it's due--The Na'vi try to square off with the Earthers and get the living hell blown out of them. Now I like this part not because the Na'vi are getting slaughtered, but because, damn it all, I am still pissed about the Ewoks being able to hand the Empire their asses in Jedi.
- In fact, the action quotient of the movie is pretty darn bulletproof--the battles are exciting, there's too much crazy-ass camera work that obscures it, and it's done with enough variety that it keeps it interesting, and given that this movie is nearly three damn hours long, is a godsend in terms of not making it feel draggy.
- Plot's as dumb as a backward jackass, though.
- Hot shit, final battle time. The best part of this scene--and indeed, the movie--is that the mech suit Evil General had has like three huge guns on it, and when those get knocked off . . .he whips out a robot mech-suit sized knife. Yes, like Rambo and shit.
- I think more movies should have a robot with a knife, and he should be all like "I-WILL-CUT-A-BITCH." Yes, even romantic comedies.
- And the good guys win. Was there ever any doubt that the deeply spiritual blue lemur people who live in harmony with nature were going to take this thing?
- I mean, it's a bit more credible a victory than the Ewoks/Empire, sure, but . . .
- Oh dear, Our Hero is not doing well. I wonder in all the hubub has everyone forgotten about the resurrection tree that doesn't work.
- Unless you're the main character.
- Eyes open and . . .credits. OH CRAP A DRIPPY TITANIC-ESQUE LOVE SONG! RUN FOR IT!
- In conclusion, it's an OK movie--stunning visuals, plot you could dictate in your sleep, competent performances, stunning battle at the end. Mind you, if you decide to blaze one (or two) before you hit the theatre, I'm certain the visuals will be even more stunning and the story deficiencies will wash over you. Not that I in any way shape or form advocate the use of legally questionable ectstatogenic substances to enhance your viewing experience. I'm just saying the movie probably plays better after a few bong hits.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The Whole Damn Thing--THE PRISONER, Episodes 13-16
Hey kids, remember how I was doing this, then dropped off sharply? Well, here's why--for one thing, time has been a precious and fairly rare resource. For another, this last stretch of Prisoner episodes is, by and larger, kind of a slog for me to get through because well, two of them I find to be an unpardonable slog and the other two are good, but I don't have a whole long essay in my about why they may or may not be good. So I decided in the name of Getting On With It, I'd go through the last 4 in one go and keep my powder dry for the utterly baffling finale, which I do have some things to say about and I'd get these things out of the way.
Think of it like the Boss Rush right before the last fight of a video game if it helps.
"Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling"--I don't usually like to drop the F-bomb here at the Prattle (in a rare example of restraint as I'd like the Prattle to have a slightly higher level of discourse) but really, fuck this episode in the ear. I've heard all the usual excuses--Patrick McGoohan was off filming Ice Station Zebra so they had to build an episode around him, but all they built was a craptacular waste of my life. No. 6 is replaced via Avengers-level mad science that switches his brain with that of an utter milquetoast with the screen presence of oatmeal, we get a bunch of No. 6 backstory and . . .and . . .screw this, I'm posting the Kosho clip again:
For the love of all that is good in this world please avoid this episode, as it is totally inessential and more importantly, it's complete and utter crap that I despise. It is the worst episode in the run without question and the memory of it pisses me off so much I want to go kick a nun in her shinbone.
But it's still better than the remake. Yeah.
"Living In Harmony"--This is the Lost Episode (it was left out of the original run in America and no one's sure why) and this is also the Western episode (as it begins with a Western-tinged version of the familiar opening credits) and with that nifty twist, I'd love to be able to tell you that the whole episode provides a necessary subversion of the standard Prisoner formula.
I'd love to, but that would be a lie. This episode is a god damned mess--it's paced like molasses, and because it makes its point in the first fifteen minutes and there's nowhere to go until the final battle/big reveal, which means we get thirty minutes (feeling like ninety) of the point being belabored over and over again. Then we get the reveal that the Western thing was Yet Another Village Plot, and in about ten minutes, the episode takes this weird-ass dark twist which is actually pretty intriguing, but seems to come from another episode altogether.
I don't know, guys--your mileage may vary on how effective it is, and it's worth at least one look, but it's not a favourite of mine.
"The Girl Who Was Death"--God I love that title. This episode gets knocked because it's basically a very silly trifle in which Patrick McGoohan spends the entirety of the episode sending up the entire 60's spy genre, but people who would say that are fools who know nothing. I love this episode--it has a real sense of goofy fun to it and oh lord don't we need that from time to time.
No. 6, in a tale set before the series, plays a secret agent who possesses a mightily unconvincing collection of fake mustaches and disguises is hot on the trail of Sonia, whose skill with creating elaborate deathtraps is matched only by her ludicrous eye makeup (seriously--they must be seen to be appreciated. They're the kind of thing that even drag queens would say "Really, honey? Really?") Also, people who play cricket get blown up, which is how I think every game should end, frankly.
I really liked this episode--it's got a lightness and humour to it that The Prisoner (no McGoohan himself) isn't really known for and it's at just the right spot--this nice little interlude before the ultra-heavy two-part finale. You may not think of it as your kind of thing, but give it a chance--I really rather liked it.
"Once Upon A Time"--The No. 2 from "Chimes of Big Ben" returns, and he's not fooling around. No more games, no more elaborate schemes, they have resolved to break No. 6 once and for all with something rather worryingly called Degree Absolute, which may or may not have something to do with roll-on deodorant. No. 6 is doped up (of course) and subjected to weird hypnotic flashing lights (of course, again) and regressed back to childhood, wherein No. 2 will take him through six of the Seven Ages of Man and try to break him down once and for all. The only way out is conversion or death . . .but for whom?
It sounds a lot better if I say it that way rather than "this is mostly Patrick McGoohan and Leo McKern yelling at each other on one set for an hour or so" Silly and limited as you might imagine the whole business to be, the intensity of the performance sweeps you up after awhile and it gets really to be really riveting. Apparently Leo McKern had an honest-to-goodness nervous breakdown while filming it, and I can see why--Degree Absolute is, performance-wise and literally, and endurance test.
It takes awhile to get into it, but "Once Upon A Time" is a grand episode, really, and the tension in it really gets you up for the finale. Whether or not it sets up a certain expectation for the finale is something we'll address next time.
Speaking of which, I can think of no cleverer way of setting up our discussion of the perpetually controversial final episode than just using the last lines of this episode:
"What do you desire?"
"Number One."
"I'll take you."
Next time--"Fall Out"
Think of it like the Boss Rush right before the last fight of a video game if it helps.
"Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling"--I don't usually like to drop the F-bomb here at the Prattle (in a rare example of restraint as I'd like the Prattle to have a slightly higher level of discourse) but really, fuck this episode in the ear. I've heard all the usual excuses--Patrick McGoohan was off filming Ice Station Zebra so they had to build an episode around him, but all they built was a craptacular waste of my life. No. 6 is replaced via Avengers-level mad science that switches his brain with that of an utter milquetoast with the screen presence of oatmeal, we get a bunch of No. 6 backstory and . . .and . . .screw this, I'm posting the Kosho clip again:
For the love of all that is good in this world please avoid this episode, as it is totally inessential and more importantly, it's complete and utter crap that I despise. It is the worst episode in the run without question and the memory of it pisses me off so much I want to go kick a nun in her shinbone.
But it's still better than the remake. Yeah.
"Living In Harmony"--This is the Lost Episode (it was left out of the original run in America and no one's sure why) and this is also the Western episode (as it begins with a Western-tinged version of the familiar opening credits) and with that nifty twist, I'd love to be able to tell you that the whole episode provides a necessary subversion of the standard Prisoner formula.
I'd love to, but that would be a lie. This episode is a god damned mess--it's paced like molasses, and because it makes its point in the first fifteen minutes and there's nowhere to go until the final battle/big reveal, which means we get thirty minutes (feeling like ninety) of the point being belabored over and over again. Then we get the reveal that the Western thing was Yet Another Village Plot, and in about ten minutes, the episode takes this weird-ass dark twist which is actually pretty intriguing, but seems to come from another episode altogether.
I don't know, guys--your mileage may vary on how effective it is, and it's worth at least one look, but it's not a favourite of mine.
"The Girl Who Was Death"--God I love that title. This episode gets knocked because it's basically a very silly trifle in which Patrick McGoohan spends the entirety of the episode sending up the entire 60's spy genre, but people who would say that are fools who know nothing. I love this episode--it has a real sense of goofy fun to it and oh lord don't we need that from time to time.
No. 6, in a tale set before the series, plays a secret agent who possesses a mightily unconvincing collection of fake mustaches and disguises is hot on the trail of Sonia, whose skill with creating elaborate deathtraps is matched only by her ludicrous eye makeup (seriously--they must be seen to be appreciated. They're the kind of thing that even drag queens would say "Really, honey? Really?") Also, people who play cricket get blown up, which is how I think every game should end, frankly.
I really liked this episode--it's got a lightness and humour to it that The Prisoner (no McGoohan himself) isn't really known for and it's at just the right spot--this nice little interlude before the ultra-heavy two-part finale. You may not think of it as your kind of thing, but give it a chance--I really rather liked it.
"Once Upon A Time"--The No. 2 from "Chimes of Big Ben" returns, and he's not fooling around. No more games, no more elaborate schemes, they have resolved to break No. 6 once and for all with something rather worryingly called Degree Absolute, which may or may not have something to do with roll-on deodorant. No. 6 is doped up (of course) and subjected to weird hypnotic flashing lights (of course, again) and regressed back to childhood, wherein No. 2 will take him through six of the Seven Ages of Man and try to break him down once and for all. The only way out is conversion or death . . .but for whom?
It sounds a lot better if I say it that way rather than "this is mostly Patrick McGoohan and Leo McKern yelling at each other on one set for an hour or so" Silly and limited as you might imagine the whole business to be, the intensity of the performance sweeps you up after awhile and it gets really to be really riveting. Apparently Leo McKern had an honest-to-goodness nervous breakdown while filming it, and I can see why--Degree Absolute is, performance-wise and literally, and endurance test.
It takes awhile to get into it, but "Once Upon A Time" is a grand episode, really, and the tension in it really gets you up for the finale. Whether or not it sets up a certain expectation for the finale is something we'll address next time.
Speaking of which, I can think of no cleverer way of setting up our discussion of the perpetually controversial final episode than just using the last lines of this episode:
"What do you desire?"
"Number One."
"I'll take you."
Next time--"Fall Out"
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Just Sayin'--Let's Talk About Comics For A Change
Hey y'all--apologies for the lack of updates, but in my defence, I've been dodging snowstorms and generally been pretty busy. Also, the next episode of The Prisoner in my series is God-Christ-Awful and will take any excuse not to write about it, because I have nothing to say about it. But as it's getting to the "just get on with it" event horizon, maybe soon.
But while we're waiting, a thought experiment for you--OK, so Marvel and DC both are beating the drums that their newer events post Dark Reign and Blackest Night will be a dramatic shift in tone away from the sturm und drang that has occurred for the past half-decade or so under the pens of Bendis and Johns.
Putting aside that it's a damning indictment that once again we have to have a big fuck-off event just to announce that We're Doing Something Different Now (instead of just getting on with the "something different") And the people bringing you this shift in tone are . . .Bendis and Johns, neither of whom has ever convinced me they can play outside of their very limited grooves to any great effect. I've never cared much for Bendis' work, and Johns has a high fail rate with me (though in the interests of fairness, Johns will come up with things I find intriguing, usually by accident)
So, uh . . .how's this supposed to work?
But while we're waiting, a thought experiment for you--OK, so Marvel and DC both are beating the drums that their newer events post Dark Reign and Blackest Night will be a dramatic shift in tone away from the sturm und drang that has occurred for the past half-decade or so under the pens of Bendis and Johns.
Putting aside that it's a damning indictment that once again we have to have a big fuck-off event just to announce that We're Doing Something Different Now (instead of just getting on with the "something different") And the people bringing you this shift in tone are . . .Bendis and Johns, neither of whom has ever convinced me they can play outside of their very limited grooves to any great effect. I've never cared much for Bendis' work, and Johns has a high fail rate with me (though in the interests of fairness, Johns will come up with things I find intriguing, usually by accident)
So, uh . . .how's this supposed to work?
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