Alien 3

Kind of an odd movie. Fincher definitely tries to go back more towards the feel of the first movie, with just one Xenomorph instead of Cameron's armies of them. And while there are theoretically more people to fight it than the crew of the Nostromo had, and they have the advantage of Ripley having faced and survived these things twice, they're hamstrung because most of the people they have available are seemingly idiots, and they have basically zero ability to even cobble together rudimentary weapons.

That said, it sure likes to show the Xenomorph on the screen a lot, in all its shoddy, early '90s CGI glory. Maybe it couldn't have worked going back to Ridley Scott's approach of just offering hints or glimpses of it. We've all seen the alien by now, and whatever Ripley might say, one that hatches out of a dog doesn't look that markedly different from one that hatches from a person. 

But I thought the most effective scene was the one when Ripley goes looking for it alone, trying to get it to kill her. She's moving through that narrow maintenance tunnel with her flashlight and the pipe and in the edges of what the light can show, she and the audience keep thinking we catch glimpses of it. We know it's there somewhere, but where is it? When will she find it? The movie was able to capture the old suspense for that brief stretch, at least.

Despite the slow pace at the beginning - things don't really get cracking until about 45 minutes in - Fincher doesn't really build up enough of the inmates to where we'd care about them. Charles Dutton's character, sure, for all that I can't entirely pin his personality down. Like, I don't know if I believe his claim that he's in prison for raping and killing women, or if he was just trying to be unfriendly. Clements, the medic, who dies fairly early in the proceedings gets enough fleshing out to think maybe he's going to be helpful, but other than that, not so much. Maybe Andrews, the second-in-command, but his personality is primarily 'naive putz in over his head', so it's hard to feel much for him.

It's really mostly about Sigourney Weaver's performance. The way she's hurt and grieving initially, but finds a cautious hope, even having landed in a prison, that maybe the aliens are dead and gone. Then that's taken away in about the worst way possible. There's a despair and exhaustion that sets in, where she's just pushing forward because all she can do is try to clean up this mess one more time, and hope it actually sticks.

Punch that Clock to a Million Pieces

This is what happens when you combine try to make a translation tool out of one of those learning A.I.s they expose to the Internet.

Hero Hourly works from the premise someone developed a serum that gives you super-powers for a limited time. But as the main character, Saul Smirkanski puts it, rather than decide 'great power comes with great responsibility, he patented it and got a business loan.' Now there's a company whose employees clock in, put on their uniforms, and go fight crime (for paying clients) until their shift is over.

I'm assuming the James Patrick who wrote this is the same one who wrote Kaiju Score. It has that same feel of examining how the everyday world would adapt or assimilate weird superhero stuff. Kaiju Score had the parts that there were established warnings and evacuation procedures, as well as there being plenty of research about where and why a kaiju would make landfall. 

Hero Hourly has a handbook with guidelines on what pose you're supposed to strike when you fly or perch dramatically on a rooftop. The experienced workers, naturally, have thrown the handbook in the trash and just do what works. There's budget concerns, which lead to the serum and its effects being watered down later on. Liability waivers to sign during fights with super-intelligent apes, guys taking their breaks at inconvenient moments. Saul accidentally grabs a woman's breast when he's trying to stop her from falling to her death and has to attend sensitivity training about where you can touch someone when trying to save their life.

Carlos Trigo (artist) and Alex Sollazzo (color artist) both help make the fantastic become mundane. The heroes all have the same uniform, which is a generic yellow-and-blue number with a big "H" on the chest. It does not flatter anyone. Saul doesn't put it on and suddenly look totally ripped. If anything, it emphasizes that he's an unremarkable looking fellow more than his looser, civilian clothing does. Everybody looks tired, bags under the eyes, deeply lined faces. Most of the (human) villains look equally cheap. Captain Commander's cape looks like it was once a particularly hideous set of drapes. Your Daddy (that's his name, "Your Daddy") escaped from a Smashmouth music video. The Foreclosure, the one recurring villain, is, I don't know how to describe it.

The story is narrated by Saul, and his tone is similar to Marco's in Kaiju Score. They're both characters who think they had it all figured out, and it's just been bad luck that brought them to their current places in life. Saul's more bitter than Marco, but there's still that constant sarcasm and absolute confidence that things are gonna work out for them.

The story is largely about making the best of the opportunities you have. Saul graduated college and expected everything to just fall right for him. When it didn't, he ended up in jobs he thought were beneath him and just temporary. He seems to settle into a state of acceptance of where he's at in the middle, and in that section, I'm not sure how we're meant to read it. Does Patrick think Saul is just lying to himself, that he's given up, or is it good Saul's found things that make him happy? I'm inclined to think the former, because Saul's always reminding himself of some questionable advice he received from an authority figure. There's also a two-panel joke in there about Saul's college professor making him perform oral sex on him that seemed unneeded. 

It's like Saul's trying to convince himself this life is fine. But then there's Gabe, who took the job seriously and seemed to derive satisfaction from it, but was cast aside by the company once he cost too much. The climax is Saul realizes if he's ever going to make the life he dreamed of, he has to make it happen. He can't just sit around and wait for it to come to him. 

(Another thing this has in common with Kaiju Score, because even though Marco's failed again and again, he was still dreaming big and taking the risks to make it happen.)

This is contrasted with Carl, who lost his home after getting a mortgage he couldn't afford. So he becomes The Foreclosure and starts a vague campaign of. . .something. Revenge? Wealth acquisition? Patrick makes it explicit at the end that unlike Saul, Carl is still blaming his circumstances on other people and expecting that one magical thing that is going to make everything better. This dismisses the actual responsibility of the financial sector for handing out mortgages precisely because they knew people couldn't pay and would have to default. It's not like Carl's the only person to get screwed that way.

But a) Saul wants to work in the financial sector in an executive position, so of course he would see their bullshit as OK, and b) it's not like Carl is trying to address that problem in any way. He's mad and just wants to lash out. He could be attacking company execs, but instead he fixated on Saul and Gabe, who were just low-level wage drones.

Sunday Splash Page #194

 

"Cause of Death: Embarrassment", in First Issue Special #7, by Michael Fleisher (writer), Steve Ditko (penciler), Mike Royer (inker), Carl Gafford (colorist), Ben Oda (letterer)

The only issue I own of this short-lived series. Kind of a second stab at Showcase, trying to either introduce new characters, or re-introduce existing ones (Creeper, Metamorpho, Dr. Fate) and see if they could gain some traction.

The most successful character would have to be Mike Grell's Warlord, considering his solo title went for over 100 issues and DC periodically tries to bring him back. There's also the Mark Shaw version of Manhunter, and some deep cuts, like Atlas or the Green Team. And Lady Cop, who I remember being sort of a topic of discussion among comics bloggers in the mid-2000s (I think Gail Simone made her the Chief of Police in Ivy Town during her All-New Atom run, which may explain it.)

As for this particular comic, it's interesting mostly in terms of how things have changed. Firefly's known now as an arsonist, third-tier Bat-villain. He's third-tier (at best) here as well, but he's a visual effects specialist, with a belt with an array of light based weapons. Also a truly terrible costume, which the men he hires as goons initially laugh at. Until he dematerializes one of them. Don't worry, the guy will come back in 24 hours. Wait, what?

Firefly's held in a regular prison, but the comic shows that both Scarecrow and Two_Face are there as well. Harvey Dent's been transferred from Arkham, awaiting determination of whether he's sane or not, but Jonathan Crane's just there as an inmate. He's a murderer who uses fear, period. Not sure when it shifted that he was nuts and got to go to the Asylum.

Firefly doesn't survive the final confrontation, and the Creeper seems content to laugh about it. Quite a change from the end of his own series, where he seemed deeply troubled by the fact he couldn't turn Proteus away from his self-destructive course. But it had been six years since his last appearance, so things can change. It would be three more before his next, as a back-up feature in World's Finest, so I guess this appearance didn't spark enough interest.

The Latest Holiday Extravaganza

*At Calvin's apartment, Blogsgiving preparations are interrupted by a knock at the door.*

Calvin: Yo, entree vous. That means, "no entrance without food."

Rhodez: I got garlic mashed potatoes, pancakes - with the good maple syrup - and quality beer.

Calvin: That'll work.

Clever Adolescent Panda: That's not what entre vous means. Or how you spell it.

Calvin: Fine. *to Rhodez* You can still come inside, but you can't have the food back.

Rhodez: As long as I get to eat some of it, man. *takes a seat on the couch* Am I the first one here?

Calvin: Other than Panda King back there. Kind of surprising. How'd you get here so fast?

Rhodez: I dunno. The drive didn't seem any shorter, but it went by real fast.

*Another knock at the door. This time Cass is waiting.*

Cass: Venison burgers and sweet potatoes.

Calvin: Be still my starches and fats loving heart!

Pollock: If you eat all of that it just might. Dolt. Rhodez. Panda. Cassanee, lovely to see you haven't died of dysentery. Pleasant greetings to all of you.

Cass: Pollock. Nice to see your nose is still crooked where I punched it.

Pollock: It is not!

Calvin: Does it qualify as a pleasant greeting if you insult someone?

CAP: It does in badger culture, as long as you say it politely.

Rhodez: Badgers care about manners?

CAP: It's more they like to fight, and it's better not to give them an excuse.

Calvin: Sounds like dealing with the Irish. Or maybe the Scots.

Pollock: No Deadpool?

Calvin: He hasn't had an ongoing series since the last one wrapped up in January. Just some mini-series. Unusual restraint from Marvel there. Gotta be the longest stretch without him having his own monthly series since, maybe the Agent X days?

Pollock: A simple confirmation of what my eyes were telling me would have proved sufficient.

CAP: So would saying, "A simple no would suffice."

Calvin: Even my dad could have said it quicker. 'Course, he'd have just gone on to talk about something else for ten minutes.

Rhodez: That's true.

Calvin: Anyway, I bought the taquitos since Wade's not here to do it. I've got soda and corn muffins, too.

CAP: I made fried rice! We had to do something with that 25-pound bag Alex gave Calvin last year. *holds up the bag*

Calvin: I have been slowly using that on soups and hash!

Rhodez: It's still over half-full.

Calvin: I said "slowly."

*Food is consumed in large quantities.*

CAP: *washing dishes* It doesn't seem like there's as much mess to clean up.

Pollock: *lounging on the couch* I imagine it helps Deadpool wasn't here. He tends to talk with his mouth full, spraying crumbs elsewhere.

Calvin: *drying dishes and putting them up* And when it's empty. And when's it's been sealed shut, that crappy Wolverine movie notwithstanding.

Rhodez: *chilling in the collapsible camp chair* I know you didn't do anything for Halloween. You gonna put up any Christmas decorations?

Pollock: Calvin? The man is entirely lacking in holiday spirit!

CAP: You're mostly right, but this is a holiday gathering. . .

Calvin: I put my decorations up this morning. See? *points to a small ceramic tree on the end table, lit by one bulb inside* It's understated, but I've had it since I was a kid.

CAP: It fits you.

Calvin: Thank you.

Cass: *cleaning off the table* Cute.

Pollock: Piffle. I have our building decorated top to bottom, in ways that don't make other denominations feel excluded. You can see our light displays from space.

Rhodez: That sounds pretty wasteful.

Pollock: Our building runs on clean energy.

CAP: It's not your solar-powered fans that crank your wind turbines, is it?

Pollock: No, that fell through years ago. We just produce wind turbines for other people.

Cass: Employees' joy.

CAP: What?! *dries paws and gets ready to fight*

Calvin: Oh dang, you're about to get a visit from a panda version of Bruce Willis in Die Hard.

Pollock: *wide-eyed* No, wait! Dr. Lakshmi abandoned that project when it turned out joy wasn't any more sustainable without major labor turnover than misery. We've developed baffles on the walls and floors that absorb the energy of the employees chatter and their footsteps. Also makes for a more peaceful workspace.

Rhodez: OK, that's pretty cool.

Calvin: Yeah, I gotta give it up for that.

Pollock: Also, because we allow some children from disadvantaged neighborhoods to have parties in the lobbies, I can write off the energy expenditure as a charitable donation and reduce my company's taxes.

CAP: Ugh. You ruined it. Now I need cheering up. What are people thankful for?

Rhodez: I thought you wanted cheering up.

Pollock: Surprise me.

Cass: Fine. *sits on the couch, leans against Pollock, who does look surprised. Everyone else just looks confused.*

Rhodez: Um, OK. Let's see, my parents are doin' good. I got some raises at my job, and I'll get some more soon. Which is good if I can't get this other job I'm angling for. It'll make my current job less crappy, you know? I'm getting some pretty good tone on my arms from working out, which is sweet.

CAP: Nice! Flex! *the panda and Rhodez both flex*

Calvin: If either of you say, "Sweet gains, bro!" I'm throwing you both out.

Pollock: I agree.

CAP: Maybe we'll throw both of you out instead!

Calvin: You're gonna throw me out of my own apartment? Rude.

CAP: Well, not headfirst onto the pavement or anything like that.

Rhodez: Am I the only one giving thanks?

CAP: I'll go! Let's see, the pumpkin-flavored Oreos I had with that security guard were really tasty.

Pollock: Come on, surely you can do better than that!

Rhodez: That's like something Calvin would say.

Calvin: Nonsense. Holiday-themed Oreos are trash.

CAP: I wasn't done! *stomps demonstratively, shaking the apartment* We had a big celebration for my mother's birthday, and she really liked the sculpture I got her! The raccoons do good work. I got to start learning how to exorcise demons, and I helped a family of ghosts one was keeping prisoner. I'm glad that worked out.

Rhodez: Man, my stuff seems kind of lame now. I need a depression beer.

Calvin: Maybe we should make CAP go last from now on.

Pollock: Ha! I can top it easily! My Christmas decoration scheme has netted me not just positive word of mouth in the community, but the aforementioned tax break windfall.

CAP: Booooooo.

Pollock: We're making progress on our own renewable energy engine designs, and the security plants are proving quite popular among the super-rich. They cost less to maintain than attack dogs or mercenaries.

Rhodez: Don't let Deadpool hear that.

Cass: Who would hire him as a bodyguard?

Calvin: What about sharks or alligators in a moat?

Pollock: That's not cost-effective at all, especially once water shortages set in. You don't want your emergency water supply contaminated with alligator crap.

Calvin: Good point.

Cass: *still leaning against Pollock* We didn't have any problems this year. The bears behaved, and no Amilgars or anyone else digging for crystals. We built a bridge across the river to the raccoons' home. Didn't have to beat Pollock up.

Calvin: You're happy about that?

CAP: I thought you liked beating up Pollock.

Cass: When she does something wrong.

Pollock: You hit me several times when I hadn't done anything wrong.

Cass: You did bad things before we met. I hit you for those.

Pollock: You bald-faced liar! You did not!

Calvin: *whispering* We've reached the "drunk relatives fighting" stage of the evening. *louder* No drunk makeouts on my couch!

*Pollock sputters and gags.*

CAP: *giggles* I guess you get to go last.

Pollock: Wait! Pass me one of your depression beers. I'm sure I'll need it after this.

Calvin: Shouldn't you be happy if I don't have much to give thanks for?

Pollock: You would think so, but you're just that underwhelming.

CAP: Are you gonna take that from Pollock?

Calvin: I typically do, but what the hey. Let's see. I didn't get to go on any trips this year. That's no good. But, no damage to my vehicle or my apartment. That is good. Got vaccinated, better than the alternative, certainly. Had that car land on my arm - 

Pollock: Ha!

CAP: Shut up!

Calvin: - but there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage, so it's just an amusing and/or infuriating anecdote now. Work is up and down. Nobody I cared about died. Alex got his DJ career back on track post-pandemic. I didn't get all the writing done I wanted, but I got a fair amount of it done. I'm fairly happy about that.

Pollock: Pitiful.

Calvin: I did see Pollock stoned on April Fool's Day. That was pretty funny, have to give thanks for that.

Rhodez: Really?

Calvin: Yeah, she gets super-chill. Also, I found out she likes all of us and misses us when we're gone.

Pollock: I do not! That is an outrageous lie!

CAP: Aww, you're blushing! Hug!

Pollock: Don't you - ack! The rest of you stay back! I will stab you!

Calvin: No problem; I don't hug. And I'm fine just sitting back and watching this.

*After a lengthy fight between Pollock and Clever Adolescent Panda, and the subsequent clean-up.*

CAP: Does it feel like something is missing this year?

Calvin: Now don't you start in on me about Deadpool!

CAP: No, I mean something loud. Something kind of annoying?

Cass: Still sounds like Deadpool.

CAP: I said I wasn't talking about Wade. Someone else.

Narrator: IT'S ABOUT TIME SOMEONE NOTICED!

Everyone: *assorted startled screams*

Star of Midnight

Sort of a proto-Thin Man. William Powell plays a lawyer who has an interest in solving mysteries. A friend of his asks him to locate the woman he'd loved, who vanished one night a year ago. Powell's got his own problems, starting with a society girl (Ginger Rogers) determined to marry him and help him. Then a reporter gets shot in Powell's apartment. Is it connected to the missing girl, or the mysterious masked singer Mary Smith? Well, what do you think?

Rogers and Powell bantering while drinking a lot of alcohol is the main appeal of the movie. Powell trying to throw her off the trail and Rogers doggedly refusing to be thrown. Pity there's so many other elements that keep drawing away from that. Rogers had something going with a mobster, involving letters that Powell had to get back with a little blackmail. So then the mobster becomes part of the story. Interesting how many of these movies have mobsters that a unashamedly criminals, but they're also honorable guys, really.

There's a cop, of course, although he's a polite older gent who is willing to be patient. Nice change of pace from the aggressive, loudmouth idiot cops in most of these movies (although there is one of those.) An older society lady that knows Powell that's on her third husband. Powell's friend, who either was conveniently unconscious during the murder, then disappears for a while. Another investigator trying to find the friend's missing lady in connection with other murders. Adding more murders on top of the reporter starts to make everything too convoluted.

What Secrets Await in the Shortest Month?

Annoyingly, Diamond's still trying to get their website into something resembling functional shape, so most of the solicits for next February are lacking in cover images. How do they expect me to judge these books without covers?

Well, I'll soldier through somehow. I hope you appreciate it.

Not that there's an extraordinary amount of new things. Marvel's got a new Iron Fist, and a thus, a new Iron Fist mini-series. So they're actually doing something playing off the Larry Hama/David Wachter mini from this year after all. Go figure. Not sure why the new Iron Fist isn't Pei, the girl who was already tabbed for the tole and being trained by Danny, but that's Marvel for you. Oh, and this thing's written by Christopher Cantwell. I have. . . not heard good things about his Iron Man or Doctor Doom work. Maybe I've talked myself out of it.

The Thing mini-series is up to issue 4, Moon Knight may be doing a tie-in to Devil's Reign (boo), second issue of She-Hulk's out, and I'm considering buying some more issues of Amazing Spider-Man, and that Ben Reilly: Spider-Man mini-series DeMatteis and David Baldeon are doing.

Look, I never said I had no nostalgia for the '90s. Only that I'm clearly not interested in the same stuff (symbiotes) as Donny Cates. Clones (or one specific clone), the Black Cat or the Slingers are another matter entirely.

Image has a 4-issue mini-series called Step By Bloody Step, by the Coda team of Si Spurrier and Matias Bergara, plus Matheus Lopes.Double-sized issues, but it's 'text-free' so I don't know how well that's going to work as a reading experience. There's also the fourth issue of Grrl Scouts, the first issue of which I hope to have soon.

Keith Rommel and Jonnuel Ortega are releasing Ice Canyon Monster through Blood Moon Comics, about a Greenland shaman who unleashes a giant squid monster in response to the ecological damage from shipping. Over at Scout Comics, there's the first issue of Broken Eye, about a guy in 1970s Liverpool with an eye that can see the past who gets in trouble with the IRA when he finds a hand in the river. There's also the fourth and apparently final (for now?) issue of Impossible Jones. Could have sworn it was solicited for five issues when it was first solicited.

Vault Comics has the fifth issue of Rush and the fourth issue of Lunar Room. More accurately, the fourth issue and third issue respectively. DC, there's the third issues of Batgirls and One-Star Squadron. Source Point has one new thing that I don't think I'll actually buy, not being a huge fan of the Victorian Era or penny dreadfuls, but Salty Seductions of Slatious Sea is too good a title not to at least get a shout out. Finally, Viz has something called Deadpool Samurai. See this is where a cover image would be nice. I might get some sense of what it looks like.

The Mask of Dimitrios

Cornelius Leyden (Peter Lorre) is a mystery writer on vacation in Turkey. He happens to meet a Turkish colonel who is a big fan of his work on the night that a body with an identity card saying Dimitrios Makropoulos (Zachary Scott.) The colonel has crossed paths, obliquely, with Dimitrios in the past, and as he tells Leyden about him, the writer becomes intrigued by this character. Leyden begins tracing Dimitrios' history, taking him across Europe to speak with others who had the misfortune to meet Dimitrios.

In the middle of this, he's approached by Mr. Peters (Sydney Greenstreet), who is also a past associate of Dimitrios, and very interested in whether the man is actually dead, though he's circumspect about why. He assures Leyden there's 500,000 francs in it for him if he comes to Paris.

The structure of the repeated flashbacks to Dimtrios' past remind me a bit of Citizen Kane. Except, where those flashbacks seemed to reveal different facets of the man, all these flashbacks reveal the same thing. Dimitrios is a conman, a user. He makes promises, plays on people's kindness, then takes off, leaving their lives in ruins. This plays out again, and again, and again. By the time - SPOILER! - that Dimitrios turns up alive and well, the audience entirely understands the reactions of both Leyden and Peters to him.

The moment where Peters first gets to confront him is some beautiful work by Greenstreet. Up to this point, he's been this jovial guy, always going on about the amount of kindness in the world, or the lack thereof. He and Lorre have this wonderful back-and-forth, where Lorre is alternately amused and baffled by Peters. The moment Dimitrios enters the room, Peters' entire demeanor changes. Nothing in his voice, but the way he sits, leaned forward slightly. The shadows under his eyes get heavier, and there's this tension that runs through him, like a dog that feels threatened.

When things go haywire, Lynden erupts. This whole thing has been like a game to him, but confronted with Dimitrios' continued indifference to the suffering he causes, he just can't deal with it. He writes about evil characters, but confronted with one in real life, he can only feel disgust and rage.

Anyway, it's a fun little movie.

Prequel to a Rematch

Inspirational leadership right there. The guy is a high school pitcher with four breaking balls, and you're busting his chops about his fastball? There are major league pitchers who barely have one! This fucking guy, I tell you.

Volume 3 of Cross Game was focused on the rematch between the Seishu Gakuen varsity team and the "portables" squad, led by Ko and Akaishi. Unsurprisingly then, volume 2 is mostly about the first game between the two teams. It ends in a loss, which sets up the portables' intense training in preparation for the rematch.

Adachi sets a few things in motion here. This is Ko's first time pitching in a real game, so it gives him a sense of what he's up against if he's going to bring Wakaba's dream to fruition. At the same time, Yuhei's perceptions of Ko change over the course of the game. Ko challenges Yuhei each time he comes to bat, rather than pitch around him, and gets burned the first three times. But as he tells Yuhei, each time he really didn't think Yuhei would be able to hit a home run off him.

Adachi's also working hard to show that, even if Yuhei's social skills are non-existent, he takes this seriously. He's one of the only members of his team who recognizes the portables have been scouting their weaknesses, or who understands that varsity is winning because Ko keeps challenging Yuhei, rather than just walking him and attacking the rest of the lineup. Coach Daimon continues to be an overconfident, smirking jerk, who insists the game wouldn't be close if he was actually doing any coaching. Which makes it sound like he's not doing his job, but his argument is this will help them realize how much they need to listen to him.

Yeah, but if you lose to the "small fry", then you just look like a jackass.

Beyond that, Adachi has Aoba watching in the stands with an old man who becomes plot-relevant in volume 3. It shows not only her knowledge of the varsity team, from the time Daimon made her pitch batting practice until she collapsed, but her (maybe unconscious) confidence in Ko. Which is strange, given her statement later on that she doesn't trust him at all, but she has a grasp on what he's thinking throughout the game. When he settles down after allowing some runs, she correctly notes he probably blew up in the dugout.

This is also when Adachi adds Senda, the comic relief character, to the cast, as he gets demoted from the varsity to the portables in the middle of the game. Daimon had him pitch so the defense could show off, but when he gave up some runs, he got the boot. So Coach Meneo, who seems where Senda's gifts actually lie, turns him into a shortstop.

And Adachi even manages a little character arc for some of the seniors on the portables. They spend most of the game hot-dogging and playing selfishly in the belief they can wow Coach Daimon and get back on the varsity squad. Over the course of the game, at least a couple of them change their perspective on this being their last chance, and try to make sacrifices to help the team win. Fortunate, or Robert DeNiro probably would have shown up to smash their heads in with a bat.

Adachi continues to do a good job of figuring out how to depict the action on the field. Showing the baseball as a indistinct white blur. Using a full-page splash of Yuhei finishing his swing, then following that with a smaller panel of the ball going over the fence, shown from a long distance (probably Ko's perspective on the mound.) When there's lots of action happening simultaneously, a ball in play and runners moving, Adachi will switch to a bunch of small triangular panels all at the same level on the page. Then he'll move back to larger panels as the different parts of the play converge, say when a runner gets thrown out at the plate.

Sunday Splash Page #193

 

"Narrator: England Did Not Fall," in Fighting Forces #132, by Robert Kanigher (writer), Ric Estrada (artist), colorist and letterer unknown

One of DC's several war comics back in the day, of which my dad was obviously a big fan. To the extent I see anyone online talking about Fighting Forces (or Our Fighting Forces, whichever), it's in reference to Jack Kirby's stint as writer/artist of the Losers. Which started around issue #152, and lasted for maybe a year.

My dad doesn't have any of that. This is the from last issue of the title I ever saw in his collection, out of maybe five, total, all between this one and when the Losers took over as the lead feature in #123. Essentially a proto A-Team, consisting of a PT boat skipper (Captain Storm), a fighter pilot (Captain Johnny Cloud), and two Marines (Gunner and Sarge), thrown together as a squad to handle jobs that required all their disparate skills. Unfortunately, none of the issues I have had good splash pages for the Losers.

They were "losers" because, well, they'd all lost. Storm's PT boat got blown up on a mine and only he survived. Cloud was shot down along with the rest of his squadron and only he survived. Gunner and Sarge had done pretty well in the Pacific Theater, but once they were reassigned to the Western Front, they too lost their entire squad. 

And since Robert Kanigher never met a horse he wouldn't beat until it was dog food, the four of them were constantly bemoaning their fate as losers. If the little boat they used for a nighttime incursion sank as soon as they reached shore, well it was from associating with losers like them. If the only plane they could get was a 30-year-old biplane, well that's just a loser's luck. Even when they were succeeding in missions they were somehow still losers.

The power of positive thinking is clearly lost on these guys.

They took over as lead feature from Lt. Hunter and his Hellcats (literally as Hunter and his crew need someone to handle a mission while they go on R&R), which took over from Captain Hunter, which took over from the "Fighting Devil Dog", who took over from Gunner and Sarge (and Pooch!). 

Besides the Losers story, the issue would usually contain one other, slightly shorter story. Usually set in an earlier historical time period, possibly with some sort of twist to it. Such as "The Invincible Armada", where the Spanish Admiral up there sinks with his fleet, and 350 years later, his descendant is a Luftwaffe bomber pilot trying to avenge his ancestor's defeat by bombing England. It doesn't go any better for him, and naturally, his plane sinks into the channel and comes to rest next to a Spanish galleon. Remarkable how that works.

Random Back Issues #76 - Captain Marvel #7

Oh, you have big plans for that garbage, Captain? You think it's any better throwing it in a landfill?

This is from the second Kelly Sue DeConnick-written Carol Danvers book, where she sent Danvers into space as sort of the Avengers' representative in galactic stuff. Carol immediately pissed off Star-Lord's dad by refusing to let him forcibly relocate a planet full of refugees so he could get some Vibranium. Star-Lord's dad is a dick, so at least she's making the right enemies.

That dealt with, she's heading back to her ship, which the Guardians of the Galaxy are supposed to be watching. First, she's gotta have a nightmare. She watches James Rhodes (who she's dating at this point), sacrifice himself, then her spaceship gets blown up, with Spider-Woman and Carol's supporting cast inside for some reason.

I initially thought, with Rhodey's death, the dream was trauma from him being killed by Thanos in Civil War II, but that's still a couple years away. This is trauma related to Hickman's Infinity event, which I could not tell you a damn thing about. Anyway, Carol's had the nightmare three nights in a row. I don't think I've ever had the precisely same dream. Certainly not multiple night in a row. I have a lot of dreams where I'm running, but always in different places or from different things.

Tic, the alien girl who got Carol to come help her planet in the first place, decided to tag along, to Carol's displeasure. Tic's attempts to show contrition through breakfast (something with tentacles and fungus), are less than successful.

Arriving at her ship, named Harrison for reasons that escape me (maybe for Harrison Ford?), Carol and Tic find only Rocket Raccoon, who locked Carol's cat Chewie up in a pet carrier. Considering he tried to kill it earlier, insisting it's an alien species called flerkens, Carol's understandably unhappy. Which is no excuse for calling Rocket a 'horrible, ugly weasel'.

Carol demands an apology to her cat, Rocket instead explains the commercial value of flerkens, and the ship is under attack. Most of the defense systems are offline because Rocket was focusing all the ship's resources on language analysis to see if it could translate flerken. This is not an acceptable reason in Carol's opinion. The attackers begin pumping something into the ship, but not gas or a drug. but something designed to map the interior, to locate Chewie. 

Rocket isn't willing to risk his life for a flerken, which kind of pisses Carol off, since the attack because of Rocket asking around about the going rate for flerkens signaling he had one. Then she calls raccoons 'creepy little garbage eaters,' which is just rude.

Anyway, she's wrong, her cat is a flerken, because it laid a bunch of eggs, looking rather pleased about it. The aliens start to break in, Rocket and Carol prepare to repel boarders, and the eggs starts to hatch.

[2nd longbox, 272nd comic. Captain Marvel (vol. 8) #7, by Kelly Sue DeConnick (writer), Marcio Takara (artist), Lee Loughridge (color artist), Joe Caramagna (letterer)]

Intruder in the Dust

This is an odd little movie. It starts with a black man, Lucas (Juano Hernandez) being brought in for murder. For shooting a white man he'd recently quarreled with in the back. Lucas asks a young man he knows, Chick (Claude Jarman Jr.), to speak with his uncle (David Brian) about being his lawyer. The deceased's brother is a rather loud fellow, the sort who can easily gather a mob to carry out their own brand of justice.

So for the first fifteen minutes, this felt like it was going to be an extended version of the trial in To Kill a Mockingbird. The white lawyer fighting a losing battle to keep an innocent black man for being imprisoned, or more likely, executed. That's not what we get, though. It's more of a murder mystery, and it's focused on Chick. The lawyer doesn't believe Lucas, but Chick does. He met Lucas when the man did a kindness for him, one which Chick didn't entirely grasp, or didn't respond to well.

The movie takes a few twists and turns. Chick gets help from an unexpected direction, an elderly woman (Elizabeth Patterson) that was meeting with his uncle about hitting a chicken with her car. There's a midnight unearthing of a grave, then a second unearthing of the same grave the next day. We get the bit where the killer is tricked into revealing themselves by announcing the witness is home alone. There's not quite a lynch mob scene, but much of the town does seem to be gathered around the jail for hours, and the angry brother does try to force his way in. Couldn't help noticing all the people waiting were men. The women actually have better things to do than sit around like a pack of vultures.

The movie gets a bit preachy at points, the lawyer trying to explain things to Chick about why the mob behaves as they do. It works better in the ways that Lucas relates to people. The pride he carries, and his refusal to bend on that. All those people may not apologize for being ready to kill him, and he doubtlessly doesn't expect it, but he's also not going to walk with his head down. He won't accept money from Chick for helping him, because that's not why he did it. He insists on paying the lawyer for his help, but also asks for a receipt when he does. He insists on his innocence, but also isn't going to shift the blame to another person when he doesn't know who it was the actually shot the man.

Another Post About Krakoa

The Krakoa status quo in the X-books continues to generate a lot of discussion online. One of the arguments I've seen lately, revolving mostly around the books written by Tini Howard (Excalibur and X-Corp), is whether the books are following the thinking, "Colonialism and/or Capitalism is OK, as long as the right people are doing it." 

I've just seen bits and pieces online, but in the first case, the argument seems based on how Excalibur has essentially taken control of Otherworld, and put crazy-ass Jamie Braddock on the throne. OK, they didn't want Arthur or Merlin or whoever, but if Krakoa is so progressive and forward thinking, maybe encourage a representative form of government? But if you give the peasantry a voice, they might not go along with what Krakoa wants, so that's no good, is it?

I'm less clear on X-Corp, although there's definitely something about using the Madrox dupes as an unpaid, generally expendable labor force that seems to garner no benefits whatsoever. Unless you count Jamie Prime occasionally sending one of them to his kid's birthday party in his place. Which I wouldn't, but your mileage may vary.

Part of the issue is, the notion of "it's OK if the right person does it," is baked into the very concept of superheroes. Superheroes are traditionally vigilantes. When Spider-Man leaves a purse snatcher dangling upside-down from a light pole, he has no official legal standing. Ditto when Golden Age Superman busts into the governor's mansion and abducts the man to rush him to prison and make him cancel an execution. The X-Men were referred to as "outlaws" for most of Claremont's first run as writer.

In the real world, at least here in the U.S., vigilantes are these dipshit crackers walking around with AR-15s, who shoot the first black person they see in a place they don't want them, and then claim self-defense. They don't seem to be trying to help or protect anything but their ego and sense of superiority. In other words, real world vigilantes are terrible. In superhero comics, we roll with it. Partially because we know the protagonist's thoughts, partially because centralized authority (police, governments) are shown as inherently untrustworthy. Partially because superheroes are presented as reactive. Spider-Man sees a guy steal someone's purse before he webs him up. 

In one of the earliest Lee/Ditko stories, he webs up a bunch of guys hanging around outside a jewelry store. They rightfully point out they've committed no crime and call for the police, which forces Spider-Man to flee, kicking himself for being a dumbass. Even though the cop acknowledges those guys were probably planning a robbery, they hadn't done anything yet, and so Spider-Man had no business acting. Especially since he's just some guy in a mask, granted authority by no one other than his own sense of responsibility.

But Krakoa, even if it was formed to stave off an emerging machine singularity (reactive), is still trying to change things. Spider-Man isn't trying to change society by stopping purse snatchers, or even Sandman when he robs an armored car. Neither is Superman when he punches a giant robot. Mutantkind, by forming their own nation, their own society, which then takes a role at the forefront of not just world politics, but galactic politics, is trying to change things. It's a vastly bigger scope, affecting more people. That's fine, it can be an interesting story - not like this is the first post I've done about Krakoa - but the question of whether the ends justify the means, or if all that matters is whose finger is on the trigger, becomes a bit more important.

As with everything related to Krakoa, I wonder whether the creative teams established all this for the audience to critique, or whether they don't see any of it as wrong. Does Howard, for example, writing the book with the notion there's anything wrong with Excalibur just deciding Jamie's the new king, even though he's kind of nuts and kind of a sadist? Or are we meant to read it as tacit support because the protagonists are doing it? When Benjamin Percy writes X-Force as a covert kill squad that is seemingly beholden to no one, does he actually think that's a good thing for Krakoa to have, so long as they rap Hank McCoy on the nose with a newspaper (while not really punishing or curtailing his power) when he tries to make an entire nation into zombies?

There are definitely fans who take the approach anything Krakoa does is good and fine and A-OK. Like wiping out artificial intelligences because they could be a threat to mutants and don't count as people anyway. And I'm sitting here thinking, those are the exact same arguments guys like Senator Kelly and Peter Gyrich used to make for creating Sentinels to hunt down mutants. But I guess we can't blame the creative teams for fans being imbeciles.

For myself, I feel like if the writers legitimately intend to show the mutants have formed something better than human societies on Krakoa, it would make more sense to show them overcoming the forces aligned against them (ORCHIS, Merlin, various bigoted corporations) without resorting to playing their games. Right now, it feels like Krakoa does the same morally questionable things, they just do them better. (And given their apparent continued inability to destroy ORCHIS' space station/Dyson Sphere or whatever, maybe not even better). Wouldn't them not even needing to stoop to the sort of underhanded tactics of mentally manipulating someone to get them to give up their secrets or allies be even more impressive? A real, "We've evolved beyond your petty games," kind of moment.

Assuming, of course, the creative teams are actually trying to show Krakoa is something better. If the point is mutants are making a lot of the same mistakes and either can't recognize it or can't pull out of the tailspin, then keep doing what you're doing, I guess.

The White Tower (1950)

An odd bunch of people decide to climb a mountain in the Swiss Alps that supposedly has never been climbed. It's headed up by the daughter (Alida Valli) of a man who tried to climb it once before. She ropes in a guide, a friend of her father, an American architect who flew during the war (Glenn Ford). Then a struggling alcoholic writer (Claude Rains) with an emasculating wife asks in, as does a Mr. Hein (Lloyd Bridges).

Everything's going smooth and easy at first, other than Hein's insistence they should keep moving because, 'To rest is not to conquer.' Certainly not ominous. But it's not as though the world had just gone through a difficult phase highlighted by Germans trying to conquer things!

Things go south rapidly once they reach the point where they have to start really climbing, searching for handholds and using ropes. Hein grows increasingly aggressive and demanding of the pace and Rains' begins to buckle. Valli's old friend recognizes he's hit his limit and turns back, and Ford questions going on as well. He only came along trying to make time with Valli, after all. Valli seems torn between completing the climb and risking the lives of the others to do. At least a couple of these people are old friends. Is it that important to complete what her father started, if it kills them in the process?

Ford, somewhat abruptly, decides he's not gonna let the Nazi get up the mountain first. Remarkable how long it took any of them to notice his hat with the silver Nazi eagle symbol on it. He'd only been wearing it the entire climb. I don't really understand his motivation. Hein's, I get. He thinks it'll be some great tribute to the will of the German people, how they aren't really beaten and will rise again. Yeah, just like the South. Gonna rise any day now.

But Ford's character? I'm less sure. Maybe he's trying to prove something to himself. He came to this region because it was where he was shot down during the war, so he feels a certain connection, but maybe he's running from something. And meeting Hein forces him to dig down and take something seriously again. Maybe.

Uninvited Holiday Guests are the Worst

Latverians take the Airing of Grievances very seriously. Pointless aside: Festivus is the only Seinfeld thing I ever gave a shit about. Because it was a show about the meaningless lives of four largely awful people. Which is why I was fine with them being thrown in jail in the series finale. Anyway!

The third volume of Rainbow Rowell and Kris Anka's Runaways revolves around the return of original cast member Alex Wilder, who, as usual, brings trouble. This time, it's the Gibborim, the gods the kids' parents had agreed to hand the world over to. Gib, Bor, and Im didn't get the world, or the sacrifice they were promised (nor the power that comes with it), because the kids stopped their parents.

The godlings are a little irked about that, and tell the "Pridelings" they have one week to decide whether they're going to fulfill the contract and offer a sacrifice, or become the first sacrifice a new Pride will offer. They leave one of the three, Gib, there to keep an eye on the kids, make sure they don't try to run off.

With that groundwork laid, Rowell and Anka spend the next few issues showing how the cast deals with the ultimatum. Or doesn't. Alex, of course, tries to take command, but is met with resistance because a) he's a condescending, pushy dick, and b) he did try to betray them the last time they dealt with Gibborim. He is definitely the guy who says hurtful stuff under the excuse of 'tellin' it like it is.' Except he's not nearly as smart as he thinks. The thing with Nico's staff about not being able to reuse words isn't some mental block or artificial limitation of hers, it's an actual thing cooked into how the fucking staff works. But Alex can't accept that, so it must be Nico's fault. He's like the worst aspects of Reed Richards and Tony Stark, with 1/20th the intelligence.

To be fair, he's just about the only one who seems to be taking any steps. Gert and Victor are poring over the Pride's journals for clues and discussing Gert traveling back in time to try and warn everyone to prepare. Everyone else is either ignoring it, or in Chase's case, content to just wing it. Or as he puts it, 'fight like crazy and hope we win.'

In the middle of all that, Nico gets some new information about the Staff of One, which also explains why she has a left hand again, and not the big magical gauntlet she got during Avengers Arena. I hadn't really even noticed, but I'm used to expecting writers to just ignore whatever they choose these days, so I figured that's what Rowell was doing. The team takes time out to celebrate Christmas, and Victor finally decides he'd like a body, please.

Which doesn't feel like much, in terms of plot. Granted, that's been my impression of this book throughout. It's not a dense reading experience, generally, but that works in its favor here. There's a ticking clock until Bor and Im return and we're watching most of the cast do. . . not a hell of a lot. We don't see Molly or Karolina training feverishly, or Chase wracking his brains for a way to discover a weakness like we might expect if this was the Fantastic Four. 

They are, as Alex says, seemingly putting their heads in the sand, which is why he can gain any traction at all, with them or the audience. At least he has a plan, as unpleasant and unfeasible as it seems. We know none of the others have come up with anything.

(As tough as the Gib, Bor, and Im seem, I really doubt Alex was going to be able to cut any of them with that dagger, assuming he could even get close enough to take a swing. As always, Alex' real gift is selling his bullshit plans.)

Kris Anka draws the last four issues, with Matthew Wilson on color duties. Most of the first two issues are by David Lafuente, who has simplified his style a bit since Patsy Walker: Hellcat. Maybe it was already like this when he took over as artist on Ultimate Spider-Man, I dunno, I'd long since dropped that book. it's still recognizably his work, but the lines are thicker, designs simpler. Fewer lines, but not necessarily less detailed in the important ways.

Although he gave Alex the same hair Egon had on the '80 Ghostbusters cartoon, which is hard to take seriously. He does make the Gibborim look more menacing than Anka does. Anka definitely pretties Gib up a lot. Although Anka makes everyone look pretty so maybe that's just unavoidable. While Lafuente doesn't make him unattractive necessarily, the nose is longer, the brow a bit thicker and scowlier, the horns a little more prominent.

Lafuente's also the only artist in this volume (Takeshi Miyazawa draws the second half of #14, which focuses on Old Lace) that draws Gib without pupils. Anka draws Bor and Im without pupils, so I thought maybe it was meant to be a significant thing, that Gib would gain them somewhere over the course of the holiday festivities or whatever. Gaining compassion as he spends time around mortals, that sort of thing. But no, as soon as it's not Lafuente on art chores, Gib has pupils, and that's that. Bit of a missed opportunity there, considering how the plot played out.

Sunday Splash Page #192

 

"A Prison of His Own Making," in Fearless #2, by Mark Sable and David Roth (writers), PJ Holden (artist), Nick Filardi (colorist), Kristyn Ferretti (letterer/designer)

What if you could stop being afraid? What would you do? What would you do to be able to maintain that feeling? That's what Fearless is looking at. Adam up there has several phobias and severe anxiety since he was a boy. Then he was introduced to a tutor who suffered from a similar problem, who designed a drug that takes away fear. Adam used it to become a vigilante, named Fear of all things, but he wasn't the first person Lionel tried to help, and when that person returns, Adam has to see how much he can accomplish on his own.

Sable and Roth draw parallels between Adam and Victor (the first person Lionel tried to help.) Not just their anxiety issues, but that they're both sons of privilege, with fathers who weren't understanding of their conditions. In a sense, both of them are trying to live up to the notions of manhood their fathers represented, but also pushing back against it. Victor took standing up for himself to the extreme of killing his father. Adam isn't that extreme, but when he isn't beating up criminals, he's behaving like a fool in public. Crashing sports cars in the fountains of hotels he owns, stuff like that.

Holden tends to use very straight, solid panel borders when things are under control. Then, as Adam's fears take hold, the panels begin to tilt, the borders grow shaky, the gutters fill with black. Characters swell up and become monstrous, Filardi uses increasing amounts of red. Our perspective of things falls to pieces as he does.

At times, Victor seems to have more control. He claims his father's empire, replicates the drug, and offers it to everyone. This is, of course, just to get them hooked so they'll do anything for more. And the reason he can stand to appear magnanimous is he'd found another crutch. Something meant to render him safe from everyone and everything. He'd substituted one crutch for another. Adam seems more convinced he's nothing without the drug, and even his eventual triumph ends up not being what it seems. Which is probably an accurate portrayal. Just because you overcome something once, doesn't mean it's necessarily beaten always and forever. True for addiction, I assume also true for anxiety disorders.

Random Back Issues #75 - Avengers Spotlight #29

That is the most exposition-laden attempt at a threat I've ever seen.

We looked at the issue prior to this back in February, when Acts of Vengeance was in full swing, but it's into the epilogue now. So much so, the lead story isn't even part of the event!

Hawkeye arrives at the hospital in response to a plea for help. The guy making the plea, former Defenders supporting cast member and general pain in the ass Dollar Bill, specifically requested Daredevil, but supposes Hawkeye will do. 

Dollar Bill's been filming a cable TV show with Madcap, called, creatively enough, "The Madcap Comedy Hour." If the brief clip we see is any indication, it's basically Jackass, as Madcap is standing in a burning trash barrel, to the confusion of assorted homeless people. It doesn't actually harm him, as he hops out, scrubs off, and throws on a fresh costume, all while talking about the pointlessness of life. Then he gets abducted by two guys in a van whose hands turn into tools. Dollar Bill admits Madcap is obnoxious and a menace to society, but will "Mr. Eye" help him?

Besides, their show was just about to get syndicated.

Hawkeye, having either absolutely nothing better to do, or having taken too many shots to the head, agrees. He tracks the license plate of the van to the Scuzz Club, and has barely taken a seat at the bar before he's dumped through a trap door. Madcap's tied up, and there are three guys with tools for hands: Pick Axe, Vice, and Triphammer. Oh god, this is really scraping the bottom of the burning trash barrel. Hawkeye quickly frees Madcap, who gets an arm chopped off by the fourth member of the team, a lady with a saw for a hand. During the fight, he gets her glasses off and is able to use his weird eyes to make her go nuts.

Hawkeye reveals the one behind it, and as we saw, Dr. Malus thankfully introduces himself for people who wouldn't otherwise recognize a scrawny Dr. Octopus-looking dweeb. I'm not sure how he expected Daredevil to show up. Dollar Bill doesn't mention receiving a ransom note or anything that specified Daredevil. Smart guys, always missing the obvious stuff.

Malus sets the self-destruct, everybody clears out, then Madcap goes back in for his arm. There's an explosion, but he walks out fine, determined to find Malus, because whatever his machine was, the energy it produced made him actually feel. Clint regrets getting involved almost as much as I regret reading it.

The second story is actually Acts of Vengeance related. A bunch of villains are being dropped off at the Vault, right as Iron Man is delivering new models of Guardsmen armor. The rest of the Avengers depart, with Captain America asking Iron Man to let his "boss" Tony Stark know they appreciate his work helping make the Vault more secure. You know, after that time Stark broke in and wrecked all the Guardsmen armors. Iron Man says he'll make sure Stark gets the message, and Cap replies, 'I'm sure he will.' Because Captain America's not a dumbass.

Iron Man's just about done walking the guards through using the armor when the Wizard gets brought it, his costume neatly packed in a suitcase, courtesy of Loki. Klaw makes an attempted rescue, kicking Iron Man around with sound-created Triceratopses, but Shellhead creates a counter-frequency with his unibeam to dissolve them and then Klaw. 

The Wizard's suited up by now, not that I expect it to help much. But one of the Guardsmen shows up, wanting to handle things. Sure, should be good for a laugh. Well, he takes everything the Wizard can throw at him and drops him in just over one page. I was right, it was good for a laugh. How embarrassing. It's almost like the Wizard was a third-rate schmuck all along. The Guardsman proclaims this new (really bulky) armor as good as Iron Man's, who replies, 'Don't you believe it.' Tony is no doubt already planning another attack on the Vault to trash these new armors as well.

Inside the Vault, the Wizard, now stripped down to his briefs, can't resist the urge to run his yap. He claims the guard would be no match for him man to man. Has the Wizard looked in a mirror lately? The guard, who was nearly killed by the Wizard in the original breakout, obliges by getting out of the armor. Then he flattens the Wizard with one punch. Trust Dwayne McDuffie to know what I wanted to see.

[2nd longbox, 55th comic. Avengers Spotlight #29, "What's the Point?" by Howard Mackie (writer), James Brock (writer/penciler), Roy Richardson (inker), Mike Rockwitz (colorist), Jack Morelli (letterer); "Tales from the Vault" by Dwayne McDuffie (writer), Dwayne Turner (penciler), Chris Ivy (inker), Mike Rockwitz (colorist), Rick Parker (letterer)]

Perdido Street Station - China Mieville

A scientist's attempt to help a birdperson take to the air again results in a quintet of horrible, mind-eating giant moths being released upon the city of New Crobuzon. While the city government flails about, teaming up with gangsters to try and kill the moths, the scientist and his odd little band make their own attempts to deal with the problem, when they aren't preoccupied with running for their lives from the government, the mobsters, the moths, a massive machine intelligence, or whatever else takes aim at them.

All the different elements come together fairly well. The mobster requesting a sculpture, the whole thing about flying, Isaac's interest in the crisis energy. I was very confused how the laboratory cleaning bot getting infected with a virus was going to factor in, but it worked.  

I was disappointed we never do get to see Isaac finish a device to allow someone to fly. Related to that, not sure how I feel about the ending. In a lot of ways. Yaghrek's fate, Lin's fate even more so. Seemed like wasted potential, the opportunity to do something with her character, thrown away. He'd established this whole thing where Lin absolutely rejects her brood mother's restrictive belief system, then later rejected the more typical mores of her people. But now she finds herself isolated in the life she's chosen, and looking back at things she rejected in a new light. Seems like it would have be interesting to see how she processed that after this whole experience.

I shouldn't have expected anything like a happy ending, but I did. I won't say Mieville doesn't earn the ending; the disastrous decisions made enough sense in the moment, it just wasn't terribly satisfying. Neither was Motley's fate, for that matter. The machine grinds people up and spits them out, and the best you can hope for is the people at the controls get marginally inconvenienced.

There's a labeled map of the city at the start of the book, but I stopped checking the relative locations of things within the first 15 pages. It's enough for me to know it's a big place with a lot of different districts, slums, neighborhoods, whatever. Some of them are more memorable than others, but that's fine. There are times some of the elements feel as though they're thrown in strictly as world-building for future books, rather than as necessary pieces of this story. That may just be Mieville' trying to give a sense of this as taking place in a world that already has plenty of history, rather than one where nothing interesting happened until this incident.

"I do not dream, der Grimnebulin. I am a calculating machine that has calculated how to think. I do not dream. I have no neuroses, no hidden depths. My consciousness is a growing function of my processing power, not the baroque thing that sprouts from your mind, with its hidden rooms in attics and cellars."

Familiarity and Contempt

Three issues into Defenders, I've noticed that Dr. Strange's teammates seem to find him annoying. At least, the Silver Surfer and Harpy do. Be curious to see what Cloud thinks, assuming issue 4 focuses on their perspective. Maybe it's owing to Strange plucking them out of the aether and throwing them into this whole mess, or maybe it's just a Defenders thing. Long tradition of people on that team being irritated by each other.

But this seems like an attitude I've seen elsewhere. Characters just being a little tired of Strange and his whole deal. True for Tony Stark to an extent as well. Some of that is younger characters, teen heroes who are going to naturally not be impressed with the old guys. Especially old guys who strut around like they're hot shit all the time. Some of it is probably a general cultural pushback. Marvel's early days were steeped in "the intelligent white guy knows best" stuff. Richards, Stark, Xavier, to the point it was sort of baked into the universe. They're the leaders, they're the ones that form a secret cabal to guide everything. 

That kind of thing gets more critical examination now, so there's some backlash. Characters aren't just going to nod along docilely with whatever those guys say. Not all the time, anyway.

But it could also be a fun way to play with how long all these characters have been around. For a long time - couple decades, at least - interactions between Marvel characters were typified by the "misunderstanding battle." The Fantastic Four perceive Spider-Man trying to bust into their home as an attack. The X-Men try to keep the Avengers from walking into a trap, so the Avengers think they're working with the villain. Everyone keeps bothering the Hulk. Eventually things get hashed out, and the heroes manage to work together long enough to get the job done and go their separate ways.

After a certain number of team-ups it's not feasible. Spider-Man's going to stop assuming the worst about Daredevil, and vice versa. Start thinking, "Something's wrong here," not, "Ol' Hornhead's gone bad!" there are ways around that. Clones, faking your death and changing your costume. With teams, it's easy enough to shift up the roster. Add someone the other heroes aren't sure of, like when Magneto joined the X-Men in the late '80s. Suddenly the X-Men could be a little more suspect. But given Marvel's (and DC) tendency to reset to particular status quo, even that's only kicking the can down the road.

So it moves into another phase, which I think became more prevalent in the mid-2000s. Might be able to tie it to Bendis writing the Avengers. Now, the fact practically everyone knows each other is a feature. If his Avengers team stumbles across Wolverine in the Savage Land, there's no big fight. They immediately team up, and Stark offers Logan a spot on the team. Storm can join the Avengers, Daredevil and Squirrel Girl, too, when she's not looking after Luke and Jessica Jones' kid. Oh, and she and Wolverine apparently know each other, too, somehow! By Jonathan Hickman's run, basically every character in an Avenger. 

There's even an Avengers team (the Uncanny Avengers) designed to pull from all the different little realms. Avengers, X-Men, Inhumans, Fantastic Four, the solo acts like Spidey and Deadpool. There are no fiefdoms any longer. Everyone networks, so everyone can call on anyone whenever they need.

It's a fact of life there are going to be people you just can't get along with. Where something about them, whether something major or something minor, is going to rub you the wrong way. The more people you meet, the more likely that is to happen. Even with people you might be OK with initially, the more you hang around them, the more their idiosyncrasies will either endear or frustrate you.

Maybe that's where we're at. The heroes of the Marvel Universe know each other enough to know who's trustworthy and who's not, but also which of those they'd be glad never to see again. There are definitely heroes who find Spider-Man incredibly annoying, and others who want nothing to do with Emma Frost and her casual disregard for the sanctity of anyone's mind. The ones who find Steve Rogers tiresome for his old-fashioned views, or his idealism (or maybe because of how many people fawn over him), and the ones who don't want to deal with Logan's tendency to rack up a bodycount, or Hulk's unpredictability. In a crisis, they can still work with them, because they're heroes and you put that stuff aside to do the job, but it's like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Nobody

The interesting thing about this to me is how so many people in the movie just seem to be looking for the excuse to be violent. Hutch (Bob Odenkirk) says he decided he wanted out of the assassin biz, to have a happy life, but it seems like he was really happy when he decided he had an excuse to get violent. After he makes his pitch to the Russian mob guy, he goes out to his car and sits there, fingers crossed, watching in the rearview mirror. I wasn't sure whether he was hoping Yulian would stop or keep pushing this, but by the end, I'm positive he wanted Yulian to refuse to let it go. So he could kill him and all his guys.

Yulian takes a question about whether he's hardcore enough to run this club that launders all this money as an excuse to break a martini glass and carve up half of some random guy's face with it. Like I said, Hutch gives him opportunities to take money and go live peacefully somewhere, and Yulian won't do it. He wants to kill him. Hutch's dad (played by Christopher Lloyd, weird I watched two recent movies with him in such a short amount of time), admits he tried retirement, but he really missed shooting a lot of people. 

(I laughed at, 'You brought a lot of shotguns.' 'Well, you brought a lot of Russians.')

In John Wick, there is certainly the sense that John's been repressing what he truly is (or made himself over the course of years), and the loss of his wife, the killing of the puppy, is all he needed to stop holding back. But there is an actual loss, and he is focused on the one responsible.

Hutch was willing to let the burglars take the money and even punch his son in the face. Then, when his daughter (the one member of his family that seems to respect him) says her cat bracelet is missing, then he decides he's going to do something. And when the resolution of that is unsatisfying, he deliberately picks a fight with six shithead Russian gangsters. They were undoubtedly going to harm the young woman on the bus, but he had a loaded gun. He could have just scared them off with it. Instead, he draws it, empties, and just fights them.

It was a good fight, though. The violence is highly entertaining. I was slightly disappointed the final big shootout didn't involve more use of the machine shop tools. You know, run a guy's arm through a jigsaw or throw their head in a hydraulic press, stuff like that. It seemed like that kind of movie. I enjoyed the bit at the tattoo parlor when the guy gets behind the door with about twenty locks and deadbolts. 

It's just funny to me that the movie pretty much dispenses with any notion these guys are settling a score or that it's a matter of honor. They're all just looking for an excuse to go hog wild.

What I Bought 11/5/2021

Spent the weekend at my dad's, so expect a series of posts about older movies over the next several weeks. In the meantime, the lean weeks for new comics continue. One book last week, a first issue.

Rush #1, by Si Spurrier (writer), Nathan Gooden (artist), Addison Duke (colorist), Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou (letterer) - The red background and the font for the title are what originally caught my eye in the solicitations.

In 1899, there's something that looks like a man in a bowler hat and tie, roaming the Yukon wilds, killing people. A giant spider seems involved, somehow. Nettie Bridger doesn't know anything about that. What she knows is her preacher husband took their son up north with him to spread the Word (and get rich), came back alone, and had been doing his best to avoid her. So she set north to find Caleb, hiring an old trapper of the name Makepeace Thyme (did he just pick his name from whatever storefront signs he could actually read?) as a bodyguard of sorts.

She's having no luck in Dawson City, but an old prospector does eventually approach, saying he'd seen Caleb in a town called Brokehoof. Before they get there, something wipes out their sled dogs. The prospector starts calling wildly to someone before attacking Nettie and Moonpeace, then getting a bullet to the skull from a Mountie. Who tells Nettie Caleb's been dead a month. Welcome to town.

Nettie says, right before everything goes wrong, she can't conceive of any interest in anything but finding her son. This in a rather brusque response to Moonpeace trying to make conversation about his wife. I would say it probably pays to be more polite to the person you expect to protect you, but I guess they didn't have manners in 1899. Anyway, now she knows the fate of her son, if not the details, so I guess she's going to be at a loose end for an issue or two.

Beyond that, I don't know. We haven't seen more than a long-range glimpse of Brokehoof, so it's hard to say what the town will be like. Gold rush towns in Westerns tend to be wild, overpriced crapholes, but this is one where the town is menaced by some strange thing, so fear's going to be an element. And Nettie does not seem prepared for this sort of thing at all, and I'm not sure there's really anyone she can rely on.

Gooden has a sort of busy art style. Lot of little marks on the faces, shadows under the eyes. Reminds me a little of Denys Cowan, but the linework isn't as firm. Jawlines and faces aren't as pronounced as with Cowan (although I guess with Cowan I don't know how much to attribute to Sienkiewicz). Either way, Gooden's work does give the characters a definite look of wear. Nettie shows the least of it, but she's also the one who has been living in a city (such as it is) until just recently.

Duke's colors are sort of washed out, especially in the scenes in the wilderness. Duke uses a shade of blue that seems to suck the color away from everything else. Like the cold is leeching it away, or maybe that the prospectors are pouring all of themselves into this place. The exceptions are blood, and gold. They aren't colored brilliantly, no neon hues, but they still stand out against their surroundings in a way nothing else does.

Sunday Splash Page #191

 

"Well Don't Keep Him Waiting," in Fear #3, by Stan Lee (writer), Steve Ditko (artist), Artie Simek (letterer)

As usual, if there's a title where I've got something from my dad's collection to post, I'm gonna post it. Got another one coming up in a few weeks, in fact. Grand Comics Database doesn't know who the colorist was, and Stan Lee is just their best guess for writer, just to be upfront about it.

This issue, and most of the first nine issues, are reprints of earlier short stories from Strange Tales or Journey Into Mystery from the 1950s. So a lot of "monster of the week" stuff, with the occasional sci-fi story with an ironic twist. The one that tends to stick with me is "Save Me, Save Me!", drawn by Paul Reinman, probably written by Lee and Larry Lieber. About a scientist who alters his molecules so he can walk on water, all so he can steal secret defense plans kept in a ship off-shore (because radar would detect a plane of heli, and sonar would get a boat or sub).

Spoiler alert: If you can walk on water, you will sink on land. The Bible leaves that out of when they talk about Peter losing faith and falling below the waves. That notion dawned on him and he freaked out. All his favorite stuff is on land!

A lot of cautionary tales like that. "A Monster Waits Outside!" looks at both the potential danger of psychological isolation in space travel, and the notion there could be all sorts of shit out in space we aren't prepared for, no matter how psychologically healthy we are. Or stories where someone cruel gets their comeuppance ("The Gentle Old Man" and "I Must Find Korumbu!")

A few of the monsters in here - Zzutak, The Thing That Shouldn't Exist, and Rorgg, King of the Spider Men - show up occasional in Marvel comics to this day. Anytime a creative team decides that want the heroes to fight a giant monster that isn't Fin Fang Foom.

The real point of interest is probably in seeing some of the earlier work of some pretty big artists. Mostly Jack Kirby and Ditko, but Joe Sinnott pencils and inks "Journey Into Nowhere!". The Zzutak story might be the first time I've seen Kirby's pencils with Ditko's inks. The monsters feel very Kirby-like, with their elaborate spines and head ornamentation, but the faces of the human characters more closely resemble Ditko's. Even the main character, comic artist Frank Johnson, duped into using living paints to create monsters, starts out closer to a square-jawed, broad-shouldered Kirby protagonist, then gradually gains more lines on his face and around his eyes as he's pulled more and more into this nightmare.

Fear eventually settled on Man-Thing as a recurring lead, and then later, Morbius. I only own one other issue, #19, because it's the first appearance of Howard the Duck and was included in the collections of his comic I bought a few years back.

Random Back Issues #74 - Creeper #4

The Creeper eating an alarm clock seems like it would cause digestive problems for Jack Ryder when they transform back, ala the question of, if the Hulk eats a bunch of beans and turns back into Banner, does it rupture Banner's (much smaller) stomach?

Huh, Googum reviewed this issue about two months ago, and it's the one I pulled from for Sunday Splash Page #116.

Having escaped the mental hospital he was in, and Proteus' (a shape-shifting scientist guy, not to be confused with the X-Men villain) attempts to experiment on him, Jack Ryder's trying to figure out what to do next. He's staying in a friend's apartment while she's away, but as you see, the Creeper's not a morning person. He only wants to be out and about when it's time to par-tay.

Up and awake, Ryder looks over some notes that recap the first three issues, including the part where he realized the origin story Ditko originally gave him was some more pleasant fantasy his mind concocted to protect himself. Not sure about that creative decision, but OK.

Jack's gotta pay the bills, so he goes looking for a reporting job, starting at the Daily Planet. He tells Perry White the paper can use a little fresh blood, but is told he'd either be writing obituaries, or supervising the office morgue. Which triggers a flashback to Ryder's own death.

Prior to this series starting, Ryder went hunting for a story in Parador, 'Numb little suckhold postage-stamp South American armpit of the world,' that was in the midst of a revolution. Ryder and the Creeper agreed the yellow guy was better suited to handle this. He wasn't ready for starved, crazed hyenas lurking in the jungle, who killed and ate the Creeper.

Or they tried to, because they apparently couldn't digest him, and the Creeper's parts were barfed up into a mass grave, and gradually merged back together. At which point the Creeper dug himself out, turned back into Jack, and the reporter staggered naked through the jungle until he crossed paths with an anthropologist named Miriam Leary.

Nearly having a breakdown during the interview does not get Jack the job. He doesn't have any more luck at any other newspapers. Including one run by a cigar-smoking publisher who wants proof a certain menace, no doubt wall-crawling, is a threat to decent people.That's OK, he didn't want to work in newspapers again, anyway! He wonders, though, if his past is holding him back. Returning to his family home, he marches into the woods, where as a boy, he once encountered a mysterious skeletal creature. Possibly the "Creeper" his mother warned would eat him if he didn't behave. The creature shows up, and Jack switches to the Creeper, who quickly dismantles it. The Creeper assures her that it'll take care of punishing bad boys from now on, and the ghost, or psychic echo, fades away after telling Jackie he's a good boy.

All of that is somehow useful for Jack's mental state. Closure, I guess. He returns to his friend's apartment and there's a message waiting with an offer from a magazine. (There was also a message from the anthropologist, but the machine cuts off too quickly and we never did learn what that was about.)

[3rd longbox, 13th comic. The Creeper #4, by Len Kaminski (writer), Shawn Martinbrough (penciler), Sal Buscema (inker), Sherri van Valkenburgh (colorist), John E. Workman, Jr. (letterer)]