Transformer Title Fights: the War of the Witwicky!

Transformers… more than meets the eye. This, we know. But what happens when the mighty all-spark malfunctions and sends the Michael Bay Monstrosities to wage war against the Autobots and Decepticons of our shared youth? We’ve got a few battles in our back pocket ComicMixers… let’s let ’em duke it out, shall we?
Round Four: The BFF Brawl for it all!
Without the backdrop of Earth, would the battle between the Autobots and Decepticons be awesome? Yes. But because it is on our little blue orb in the cosmos, it’s that much cooler. Even cooler than that though, the heroic Autobots befriended one of our very own. Spike Witwicky was a plucky 14 year old hard hat wearing son of oil rig worker Sparkplug. When Sparky’s rig became a set piece for the war between those who were “more than meets the eye” Spike and his dad offered their friendship to the Autobots… to help them acclimate to our hip and trendy world. Optimus and his crew accepted, and soon, Spike was in our living room, capturing our heart. Sure Spike made some mistakes… he unwittingly brought Soundwave into Autobot headquarters. He later got captured and brainwashed… but hey, he was just a kid. To counter point it, he introduced the good guys to the concept of Dinosaurs, as well as provide companionship on the many adventures to Cybertron, Dinobot Island, etc. It was this companionship that most could argue that made Optimus the human-loving leader he is today. And without him, who would Bumblebee quip to? No one, that’s who.
In the movies, Sam Witwicky is this generation’s “Marty McFly” (according to TF 1 writer Roberto Orci). Sporting a crude ‘tude in the first movie, Sam was our POV man, quick with the wits, and quicker with the “run for your life” skill. This skill of course allows Sam, who is a marginally unathletic kid, the superhuman ability to outrun battle-trained transformers in an unending loop of flying debris and explosions. While he doesn’t sport a curly red mop and hardhat, he does sport todays hip equivalent: two tee-shirts on at once, cargo pants, and a bit of the life-giving all spark. Hell of a keychain kid.
So folks, let’s say a rift in celluloid occurs, and these Wikwickys are made to do battle. Sam has the age advantage, but Spike is wearing a hardhat. Sam has the all-spark… but, to make things fair, Spike has his brain placed into that cool Autobot X. That out to make it nice and even right? Only one way to find out… COMMENT!
… And don’t forget to vote in the previous rounds, for the Amalgamated-Assemblage of alloy…Devastator! Or for the Buzz-worthy Bumblebee! Or your favorite Vocoder-voiced-villain, Soundwave!


In this week’s installment of
After its success with [[[The Lord of the Rings]]], New Line wisely began scouring the bookshelves for other properties that could feed the appetite of a growing public to whom fantasy was no longer reserved for the geeks. They snatched up several including Cornelia Funke’s German novel, which first saw print in fall 2003.
I have to laugh when I watch old [[[Tom and Jerry]]] cartoons. First, of course, because they’re funny. The original series of 114 theatrical cartoons by William Hanna and Joseph Barbera for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s Hollywood cartoon studio were produced between 1940 and 1957, seven of them winning the Academy Award for Best Short Subject (Cartoons)…a tie for most awards, one should note for the animation snobs out there, with Walt Disney’s [[[Silly Symphonies]]] animated series. A series of perfectly dreadful and too-often released cartoons followed, produced in Eastern Europe (cheap labor, I would imagine, and worth what they paid for it), produced by Gene Deitch at Rembrandt Films in 1960 before, thank the animation heavens, there came Chuck Jones in 1963.
A copy of Action Comics #1, featuring the first appearance of
ABC’s Lloyd Berman had a nifty idea: turn [[[Survivor]]] into a drama. He handed the notion off to producer J.J. Abrams, who at the time was riding the critical wave of success with the network’s [[[Alias]]]. Abrams, in turn, sat with Damon Lindeolf and Carleton Cuse and they brainstormed a concept and characters. From there, they shot an expensive, moody, intriguing pilot that got everyone’s attention. And suddenly, Wednesday nights were appointment television evening as everyone wanted to watch [[[Lost]]] and dissect it the following morning.
