Monsters. I love 'em, you love 'em, they're everywhere, especially now that Halloween is upon us. Once objects of fear, now they've become objects of fun, mascots of the season (or at least October). And towering far above your Freddys and Jasons and Jeeperses Creeperses are the Icons, the Pantheon of Fear. The Universal Monsters (or their templates, anyway) are the Kings of Halloween, y'all. Count Dracula. The Non-Specific Werewolf. The Surprisingly Ambulatory Mummy. The Monster Whom We Should Probably Just Call "Frankenstein" Already. The Gill-Man, I Guess.
(Seriously, though, is there a more unwieldy appellation than "The Frankenstein Monster"? Everybody called him "Frankenstein" at one time or another, before their "Um, actually"s set in. Let it be so again!)
These guys are the rock stars, the elder statesmen. The Big Five (or reasonable facsimiles thereof) have been everywhere, from beer commercials to fighting games to (hoo boy) sexy Japanese figurines to terrible '90s action cartoons to... cute high school girls? (By the way, this "Monster High" thing: is it a less sincere attempt to capture the same accidental audience as That Pony Show, or slight misinterpretation of a certain pop star's bizarro term of endearment to her fans? You be the judge!) They're so ingrained in our minds, our pop culture, our very pores. Kids are born with inherent knowledge of Frankenstein! (and also, like, Superman, but that's a different post.)
Well, obviously Dracula and Frankenstein are at the top. Even today, Dracula, as created by Stoker and popularized by Lugosi and Browning, is the yardstick by which other fictional vampires are measured against. Jack Pierce's makeup for the Monster is the first thing anyone thinks of when you say "Frankenstein". Yeah, the werewolf might be up there, slightly below the other two, but less as a character than as an archetype; that's the nature of the beast, as it were. In his nonfiction book Danse Macabre, Steven King lists his "monster Tarot" as the Werewolf, the Vampire, and the Thing With No Name.
Don't talk to me about the Mummy or the Gill-Man, 'cos I don't wanna hear it. They're just not as exciting to me as the others. What's the Mummy's deal, anyway? Sometimes he's a weaker cousin to the Frankenstein Monster in different clothes (Kharis being used as a weapon reminds me of Ygor using the Monster to kill the jurors who elected to hang him), sometimes (Imhotep in the original, and the '90s update) he's an evil wizard. As for the Gill-Man, he's kind of on the edge, the last "classic" horror monster and a harbinger of the "big bug" mutation monster of the '50s. But, hey, they were both in The Monster Squad. That's credentials enough.
Occupying a lower tier is probably the Bride (an iconic look and performance is enough to offset the very little screentime she actually has) and the Phantom of the Opera (the junior Chaney could never match the manic energy of his old man). (And some would argue in favor of the Invisible Man, but I just don't see it.)
Aside from all that, there's something else I'd like to mention. Something slightly older, slightly more... autumnal. These faces entered into our consciousness not necessarily through films, but from older traditions. The Ghost. The Skeleton. The Witch. They're from darker, more primal corners of our minds. Fears of death, of decay, of darkness. The Skeleton and the Witch appear as masks in the woefully underrated Halloween III (with the Ghost swapped out for a more practical Pumpkin, but, you know.) If the Universal Monsters are kings of Halloween, these three are Emperors (and Empress). But maybe bringing them into the present day, making them Halloween characters, using their images for fun, is our way of saying we're not afraid of what they represent.
It all goes back to what many people enjoy about Halloween. Fear can be fun. In the face of autumn (and oncoming winter), it's nice to have a moment of excitement and joy. So have a happy All Hallow's Eve tonight. Just watch out for the monsters.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Man vs Before it was Cool
So, a while back, before a number of personal tragedies and minor inconveniences, I wrote a post about a certain cult show that isn't so cult any more. I left it open-ended, intending to write a follow-up post that goes past those early memories into my growing appreciation of the show and my tentative steps into "fandom", such as it was.
This is not that post, or at least, not how I intended it to turn out. I may get back to that, or whatever bits of it I don't use here, but, frankly, it would have been boring, trite, list-y trash, and I've already done several of those posts anyway. I'm in a different place now, and I'm trying to work something out here, fine tune my writing anyway. I can't just go "Here Is a Thing That Happened And It Sometimes Had a Meaning To Me And Here Is the Next Thing" every time. This thing, though... this thing...
*sigh* Okay, so you may have heard Doctor Who has made a bit of a comeback in recent years and is now, like, the biggest deal ever on both sides of the Atlantic as well as both sides of the gender gap. And it's genuinely mostly good, with flashes of brilliance, thanks in no small part to the lead actors and the all-star crop of writers. (Neil Gaiman! Paul Cornell! The fella who wrote Coupling!) This is one of the better-crafted science-fantasy adventure shows to come down the pike in recent years. However... it's lacking something. Some fundamental oddball quality, some cheap weirdness, some indefinable thing that would compel me to stay up way too late on a Saturday night to watch.
New Who just isn't late-night Saturday viewing; it's Prime Time. And that's just what it needs to stay healthy in a 21st century television environment. In a post-Buffy world, even fantasy-adventure shows need defined character arcs and storylines, however awkward the fit is (*cough*badwolf*cough*). And it proved to be successful, not just in the UK, where it was regarded as a fond memory, but also in the US, where its status at the time could be described as "cult at best" (or "that weird section in Suncoast Video").
But here's the thing. I don't know whether it's out of some misguided resentment over missing out due to lack of cable, or because my expectations were too high, or because of the new fanbase the new show was cultivating but I realized that I'm just not as enthusiastic about New Who as I thought I'd be. But that's okay. Plenty other people are. Plenty.
Back in the day, my quiet, shy-around-girls, teenage self was able to find maybe one other person in my whole high school who watched Doctor Who, but, aside from during the downtime between matches at that one Quiz Bowl event, she and I didn't get to talk much about it (see "shy around girls"). I even tried to get one of my college roommates to watch "Inferno" before admitting defeat and just hooking headphones up to the TV. Nowadays, you can't throw a virtual stone in the global ideaspace without hitting a TARDIS, or a cartoon Dalek, or a gender-swapped version of the Eleventh Doctor complete with fez. Like it or not, thanks to the revival, New Who is huge. And Classic Who seems to get lost in its younger sibling's wake.
I think that's what I'm getting at, here. It sometimes feels like Classic Who has been marginalized to make way for the new. The show I fell in love with, the bubble-wrap monsters, action by HAVOC, the anything-can-happen adventure, has been supplanted in the public eye by CGI spectacle, "timey-wimey", and overwrought storylines. More people know "I don't want to go!" than "It's the end, but the moment has been prepared for." This thing, this wonderful, weird TV show I grew up with doesn't matter to them, and that's a little disheartening. Though, I should be glad they at least get a version of the Doctor for them. (And I have to admit, Matt Smith really gets into the role in a way we haven't seen in a long time.)
I still like New Who (well, mostly). Just in a different way from the classic stuff. Fortunately, Classic Who isn't exactly dead. The DVDs are being released (and re-released!) steadily over the years to revisit at any time. I follow three different rewatches of the classic series online (plus another in print). As noted before, audio drama group Big Finish have put out new stories with a classic vibe for something like 13 years now. And, if I'm really desperate, I can dig into my stack of old paperbacks from the so-called "wilderness years". Plus, there's the added bonus of not getting any funny looks when I mention Doctor Who in public, so, yeah, it's not a total loss.
Now, who's up for some "Talons of Weng-Chiang", hmm?
This is not that post, or at least, not how I intended it to turn out. I may get back to that, or whatever bits of it I don't use here, but, frankly, it would have been boring, trite, list-y trash, and I've already done several of those posts anyway. I'm in a different place now, and I'm trying to work something out here, fine tune my writing anyway. I can't just go "Here Is a Thing That Happened And It Sometimes Had a Meaning To Me And Here Is the Next Thing" every time. This thing, though... this thing...
*sigh* Okay, so you may have heard Doctor Who has made a bit of a comeback in recent years and is now, like, the biggest deal ever on both sides of the Atlantic as well as both sides of the gender gap. And it's genuinely mostly good, with flashes of brilliance, thanks in no small part to the lead actors and the all-star crop of writers. (Neil Gaiman! Paul Cornell! The fella who wrote Coupling!) This is one of the better-crafted science-fantasy adventure shows to come down the pike in recent years. However... it's lacking something. Some fundamental oddball quality, some cheap weirdness, some indefinable thing that would compel me to stay up way too late on a Saturday night to watch.
New Who just isn't late-night Saturday viewing; it's Prime Time. And that's just what it needs to stay healthy in a 21st century television environment. In a post-Buffy world, even fantasy-adventure shows need defined character arcs and storylines, however awkward the fit is (*cough*badwolf*cough*). And it proved to be successful, not just in the UK, where it was regarded as a fond memory, but also in the US, where its status at the time could be described as "cult at best" (or "that weird section in Suncoast Video").
But here's the thing. I don't know whether it's out of some misguided resentment over missing out due to lack of cable, or because my expectations were too high, or because of the new fanbase the new show was cultivating but I realized that I'm just not as enthusiastic about New Who as I thought I'd be. But that's okay. Plenty other people are. Plenty.
Back in the day, my quiet, shy-around-girls, teenage self was able to find maybe one other person in my whole high school who watched Doctor Who, but, aside from during the downtime between matches at that one Quiz Bowl event, she and I didn't get to talk much about it (see "shy around girls"). I even tried to get one of my college roommates to watch "Inferno" before admitting defeat and just hooking headphones up to the TV. Nowadays, you can't throw a virtual stone in the global ideaspace without hitting a TARDIS, or a cartoon Dalek, or a gender-swapped version of the Eleventh Doctor complete with fez. Like it or not, thanks to the revival, New Who is huge. And Classic Who seems to get lost in its younger sibling's wake.
I think that's what I'm getting at, here. It sometimes feels like Classic Who has been marginalized to make way for the new. The show I fell in love with, the bubble-wrap monsters, action by HAVOC, the anything-can-happen adventure, has been supplanted in the public eye by CGI spectacle, "timey-wimey", and overwrought storylines. More people know "I don't want to go!" than "It's the end, but the moment has been prepared for." This thing, this wonderful, weird TV show I grew up with doesn't matter to them, and that's a little disheartening. Though, I should be glad they at least get a version of the Doctor for them. (And I have to admit, Matt Smith really gets into the role in a way we haven't seen in a long time.)
I still like New Who (well, mostly). Just in a different way from the classic stuff. Fortunately, Classic Who isn't exactly dead. The DVDs are being released (and re-released!) steadily over the years to revisit at any time. I follow three different rewatches of the classic series online (plus another in print). As noted before, audio drama group Big Finish have put out new stories with a classic vibe for something like 13 years now. And, if I'm really desperate, I can dig into my stack of old paperbacks from the so-called "wilderness years". Plus, there's the added bonus of not getting any funny looks when I mention Doctor Who in public, so, yeah, it's not a total loss.
Now, who's up for some "Talons of Weng-Chiang", hmm?
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Man vs the Origin
I don't exactly recall which comic was my first. Two memories spring to mind. One was a DC digest that had a team-up between the Justice League of America (whom I already mostly knew from the Superfriends on Saturday mornings) and the new-to-me Justice Society, as they raced through time to find a third group of heroes to fight an impossibly huge menace. Bits of it stuck in my memory, like Batman using the phrase "an historic monument" or Johnny Thunder suddenly having hiccups. Yes, a bit of 21st-century research turns up the answer quickly, and I now have more recent vintage reprint of that story, but for years, the nature of this story was lost in time, not unlike the scattered Seven Soldiers in the story.
That's a decent story and all, but I'd like to believe the other possibility. My other "first comic" was my Dad's copy of Origins of Marvel Comics. The 1974 edition, to be precise. It printed the first appearance of several early Marvel characters, and another, more polished story from later in the '60s. This was in a whole different league than the DC digest. Where the Justice League story had more heroes than I could shake a stick at, the Marvel book had... well, it had the Thing!
I instantly took to the Fantastic Four, who continued to be among my favorite Marvel characters for decades after. (Their powers, to me, seemed exactly the kind of things that "cosmic rays" would do to you, never mind that I hadn't heard of cosmic rays beforehand.) Then there was the Hulk. Big, powerful, more than a little scary (I don't recall if I ever made it past the intro to the TV show.) I'm afraid I didn't have an overwhelmingly positive reaction to Spider-Man or Thor (I was a bit too young to appreciate the soapy Romita-era Spidey and full-on Cosmic Kirby.) Then there was Doctor Strange. Who the heck was this guy, with his freaky eye-amulet and super-creepy art? A future underdog favorite, that's who!
Oh! I almost neglected one more character it introduced me to. No, not the Sub-Mariner. I'm talking about Stan Lee. I'm not gonna lie, dear readers; I still love his brand of hucksterism. All told, between Stan telling his story, and the characters I met inside, that book is probably the main reason why I've been mostly a Marvel reader.
Epilogue: 15 or so years later. I found that book again, in worse condition than I remembered it. The covers had fallen off, pages had been swallowed up by time, and a big chunk was torn out of "When Strikes the Silver Surfer", but reading what was left of it reminded me what I saw in it in the first place. Unfortunately, even more time has passed since even then, and I believe the book was lost in a flood. Of course, by then it had already taken root in my psyche. So, even if it wasn't the one I read first, I'm still going to say that Origins of Marvel Comics was my first comic. And to me, there couldn't be a better place to start.
That's a decent story and all, but I'd like to believe the other possibility. My other "first comic" was my Dad's copy of Origins of Marvel Comics. The 1974 edition, to be precise. It printed the first appearance of several early Marvel characters, and another, more polished story from later in the '60s. This was in a whole different league than the DC digest. Where the Justice League story had more heroes than I could shake a stick at, the Marvel book had... well, it had the Thing!
I instantly took to the Fantastic Four, who continued to be among my favorite Marvel characters for decades after. (Their powers, to me, seemed exactly the kind of things that "cosmic rays" would do to you, never mind that I hadn't heard of cosmic rays beforehand.) Then there was the Hulk. Big, powerful, more than a little scary (I don't recall if I ever made it past the intro to the TV show.) I'm afraid I didn't have an overwhelmingly positive reaction to Spider-Man or Thor (I was a bit too young to appreciate the soapy Romita-era Spidey and full-on Cosmic Kirby.) Then there was Doctor Strange. Who the heck was this guy, with his freaky eye-amulet and super-creepy art? A future underdog favorite, that's who!
Oh! I almost neglected one more character it introduced me to. No, not the Sub-Mariner. I'm talking about Stan Lee. I'm not gonna lie, dear readers; I still love his brand of hucksterism. All told, between Stan telling his story, and the characters I met inside, that book is probably the main reason why I've been mostly a Marvel reader.
Epilogue: 15 or so years later. I found that book again, in worse condition than I remembered it. The covers had fallen off, pages had been swallowed up by time, and a big chunk was torn out of "When Strikes the Silver Surfer", but reading what was left of it reminded me what I saw in it in the first place. Unfortunately, even more time has passed since even then, and I believe the book was lost in a flood. Of course, by then it had already taken root in my psyche. So, even if it wasn't the one I read first, I'm still going to say that Origins of Marvel Comics was my first comic. And to me, there couldn't be a better place to start.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Man vs the Inconsequential Anecdote
It's hard to figure out how to approach this, so I'll go right out and say it. I like strange old stuff. Records, books, and especially comics. On occasion I'll go to the local used bookstore and just browse for some pop culture ephemera. One time, I happened upon a grab-bag that had a few Archies from the '70s, a forgettably unreadable Charlton Flintstones, something called O. G. Whiz that mostly printed old Tubby stories, plus something that I had only heard about second-hand. An issue of Millie the Model. It was from late in the run, after the comic had gone from Stan Lee's version of an Archie-style humor book to a "romantic adventure" comic, and back to an even more Archie-styled book. So, of course I bought the bundle, and that Millie was a jewel in my collection.
Now, flash-forward to that November, when a certain pop-culture-magazine-sponsored comic convention rolled into town. Now, I hadn't been to a comic convention before, and this one was nowhere near San Diego levels of conventioneering, so I figured it would be a good place to check out for the day. And, dear readers, I may have gone a little spend-crazy. Several issues of Marvel Presents with Steve Gerber's rendition of the Guardians of the Galaxy, three randomly-selected silver/bronze-age Detective Comics, one copy of Avengers (vol. 1) #20 that someone wrote their name on, two Dazzlers with Bill Sienkiewicz covers and a Marvel Premiere featuring Tigra later, I saw it. Another Millie the Model. As it turns out, this was the first one after the style shift, but, after I got it home, I noticed something... familiar about it. Most of the stories in this issue were reprinted... in the only other issue I had!
Of course, I should have known there'd be reprints. The original X-Men comic was notoriously relegated to reprints before its original cancellation, and it looks like Millie was on her way there as well. Heck, one of the Marvel Presents had an only-tangentially-related Silver Surfer reprint in there. I only went to one other convention after that, and never saw another Millie. Maybe I'll set my sights on finding old Josies instead. The next con for me is only a few months away, after all...
Friday, August 3, 2012
Man vs the Resurrection of Dead Television
Oh, there you are! I'm afraid you're a bit early. I'm not quite ready to start this thing just yet. If you could hand me those vacuum tubes-- no, not the ones over by the Tesla coil, the ones on the bench, please. See, I've decided to bring my blog back to life (or what passes for it) and I decided the best way was to go the full Frankenstein-- watch out you don't trip on that cable there.
Well, yes, of course I got distracted. My Netflix queue isn't gonna watch itself, you know, and I did just spend last week re-reading the full run of iZombie (in finer comic shops everywhere!) Still, I had topics to discuss, stories to share, and big ideas that needed their space, hence the Colin Clive act on this space here. And what better way to revive this corner of ideaspace than with a discussion on, well, revivals?
So, I read an article recently about WKRP in Cincinnati, which got me thinking about its lesser-known follow-up, aptly titled The New WKRP in Cincinnati. Yes, they took the central premise and a few of the same characters and threw a bunch of new characters together to see if it worked. It lasted about two seasons in syndication, which shows you what the first-run syndication market was like. Actually, a lot of revival shows went straight into syndication. You had your more recently deceased network programs that were given new life, like Charles in Charge, or It's a Living (which sparked my preteen crush on Ann Jillian), or the interminable Punky Brewster, which had me convinced that Chicago must've been one of the most depressing places to live.
Then there were the ones that you had to dig a little deeper to find. Older programs that were given a kind of un-life. The New Gidget shambled along the beaches for two seasons, and I watched it, with very little knowledge of the original. What's Happening Now!! (don't forget those exclamation marks, kiddies) eluded death for 66 episodes, and I somehow conflated it with the original series. The New Monkees (yes, this was a thing that existed!) defied the natural order for 13 keyboard-driven, ponytail-pompadoured, '80s-tastic episodes, and, God help me, I watched it. The Munsters Today crawled from their tombs and somehow managed to stay on for three seasons compared to the original's two, and I... hang on, what?
Yes, The Munsters Today somehow lasted longer than The Munsters. And you thought this Frankenstein bit was just for show. No, I don't remember much about this show other than a pre-Boy Meets World Jason Marsden as Eddie doing a "hip" version of "Michael Row the Boat Ashore." And John Schuck was no Fred Gwynne. And I don't really care to spend any more words on it. Look, okay, I misspent my youth watching far more television than is healthy. And now, the TV landscape has changed and bastions of weird programming don't exist in the same capacity these days.
Besides, it wasn't all bad. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the more successful revivals. Yes, despite having none of the original cast (and an extremely rocky first season), Star Trek: The Next Generation led to new televised Star Trek in one form or another for 18 years (and probably kicked off the late '80s/early '90s TV revival craze in the first place), and the BBC Wales revival of Doctor Who is bigger now than it ever was during its original 26-year run. Of course, they have their detractors, too, fans of the original, clashing with fans of the new. Kirk vs. Picard. Tom Baker vs. David Tennant. Somehow I doubt there was ever an internet discussion of Andy Travis vs. Donovan Aderhold.
I don't have any lessons, morals, conclusions about this. Now that I think about it, reviving my blog by talking about failed revivals is probably a risky thing in itself. I guess the main thing to take away from this is, they tried something newish, and it didn't always work, but they gave it what they got, and the rest is history.
And Ann Jillian was a babe.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I've a giant wall switch to throw and laugh maniacally at. Don't be a stranger, hmm?
Well, yes, of course I got distracted. My Netflix queue isn't gonna watch itself, you know, and I did just spend last week re-reading the full run of iZombie (in finer comic shops everywhere!) Still, I had topics to discuss, stories to share, and big ideas that needed their space, hence the Colin Clive act on this space here. And what better way to revive this corner of ideaspace than with a discussion on, well, revivals?
So, I read an article recently about WKRP in Cincinnati, which got me thinking about its lesser-known follow-up, aptly titled The New WKRP in Cincinnati. Yes, they took the central premise and a few of the same characters and threw a bunch of new characters together to see if it worked. It lasted about two seasons in syndication, which shows you what the first-run syndication market was like. Actually, a lot of revival shows went straight into syndication. You had your more recently deceased network programs that were given new life, like Charles in Charge, or It's a Living (which sparked my preteen crush on Ann Jillian), or the interminable Punky Brewster, which had me convinced that Chicago must've been one of the most depressing places to live.
Then there were the ones that you had to dig a little deeper to find. Older programs that were given a kind of un-life. The New Gidget shambled along the beaches for two seasons, and I watched it, with very little knowledge of the original. What's Happening Now!! (don't forget those exclamation marks, kiddies) eluded death for 66 episodes, and I somehow conflated it with the original series. The New Monkees (yes, this was a thing that existed!) defied the natural order for 13 keyboard-driven, ponytail-pompadoured, '80s-tastic episodes, and, God help me, I watched it. The Munsters Today crawled from their tombs and somehow managed to stay on for three seasons compared to the original's two, and I... hang on, what?
Yes, The Munsters Today somehow lasted longer than The Munsters. And you thought this Frankenstein bit was just for show. No, I don't remember much about this show other than a pre-Boy Meets World Jason Marsden as Eddie doing a "hip" version of "Michael Row the Boat Ashore." And John Schuck was no Fred Gwynne. And I don't really care to spend any more words on it. Look, okay, I misspent my youth watching far more television than is healthy. And now, the TV landscape has changed and bastions of weird programming don't exist in the same capacity these days.
Besides, it wasn't all bad. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the more successful revivals. Yes, despite having none of the original cast (and an extremely rocky first season), Star Trek: The Next Generation led to new televised Star Trek in one form or another for 18 years (and probably kicked off the late '80s/early '90s TV revival craze in the first place), and the BBC Wales revival of Doctor Who is bigger now than it ever was during its original 26-year run. Of course, they have their detractors, too, fans of the original, clashing with fans of the new. Kirk vs. Picard. Tom Baker vs. David Tennant. Somehow I doubt there was ever an internet discussion of Andy Travis vs. Donovan Aderhold.
I don't have any lessons, morals, conclusions about this. Now that I think about it, reviving my blog by talking about failed revivals is probably a risky thing in itself. I guess the main thing to take away from this is, they tried something newish, and it didn't always work, but they gave it what they got, and the rest is history.
And Ann Jillian was a babe.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I've a giant wall switch to throw and laugh maniacally at. Don't be a stranger, hmm?
Monday, April 30, 2012
Man vs Pop Culture Week 4/23-4/28
Another week, another pop culture roundup.
In light of recent events, I re-read the most recent arc of Chris Roberson and Mike Allred's monster mashup iZombie from Vertigo. The story is, by necessity, ramping up to a conclusion (it's due to end with issue 28), and it's nice to see the various plot threads, including random throwaway bits from earlier issues, tying together. Plus, there's a panel where guest artist J. Bone gets to draw Zombie Abraham Lincoln fighting Nazi werewolves. I'm gonna miss this book when it's gone, but it's been a heck of a ride, and I'll be re-revisiting it after it wraps up.
After hearing about Kagan McLeod's Infinite Kung Fu on War Rocket Ajax a while back, I decided I'd check it out. Finding out it was on sale last weekend only clinched the deal, and I spent a good chunk of the weekend blissed out in kung fu goodness. Though I'm not familiar with many, many martial arts movies, I knew enough (would you beleive I heard about the Five Deadly Venoms in an old RPG sourcebook?) to appreciate the feel of what was going on. For those who still need convincing, get a load of this trailer:
On the movie front, I got to check out Tucker and Dale vs Evil, which I had been meaning to see since I heard about it last year. It's usually good to see Alan Tudyk in stuff, and Tyler Labine was fun in Reaper, and they had pretty good chemistry here, too. The joke in the central premise had the potential to wear itself out, but it hit all the right story beats that I didn't mind. By the time the college kids get the sheriff involved, you know what's going to happen next, but it's still funny as hell when it does.
Next week, I dig into a long-forgotten comic genre!
In light of recent events, I re-read the most recent arc of Chris Roberson and Mike Allred's monster mashup iZombie from Vertigo. The story is, by necessity, ramping up to a conclusion (it's due to end with issue 28), and it's nice to see the various plot threads, including random throwaway bits from earlier issues, tying together. Plus, there's a panel where guest artist J. Bone gets to draw Zombie Abraham Lincoln fighting Nazi werewolves. I'm gonna miss this book when it's gone, but it's been a heck of a ride, and I'll be re-revisiting it after it wraps up.
After hearing about Kagan McLeod's Infinite Kung Fu on War Rocket Ajax a while back, I decided I'd check it out. Finding out it was on sale last weekend only clinched the deal, and I spent a good chunk of the weekend blissed out in kung fu goodness. Though I'm not familiar with many, many martial arts movies, I knew enough (would you beleive I heard about the Five Deadly Venoms in an old RPG sourcebook?) to appreciate the feel of what was going on. For those who still need convincing, get a load of this trailer:
On the movie front, I got to check out Tucker and Dale vs Evil, which I had been meaning to see since I heard about it last year. It's usually good to see Alan Tudyk in stuff, and Tyler Labine was fun in Reaper, and they had pretty good chemistry here, too. The joke in the central premise had the potential to wear itself out, but it hit all the right story beats that I didn't mind. By the time the college kids get the sheriff involved, you know what's going to happen next, but it's still funny as hell when it does.
Next week, I dig into a long-forgotten comic genre!
Friday, April 27, 2012
Man vs the Mobile Post
I'll make this quick as I'm typing this post from my phone. For a long time I've resisted ebooks; now I have the Kindle app. For a long time I resisted digital comics; now my weekly haul is through Comixology. That doesn't mean I'll eschew paper entirely, but digital isn't so bad. So I'm only a little bit behind the curve.
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