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The Law Is A Ass

Bob Ingersoll: The Law Is A Ass #394

MR. McDUCK SCROOGED HIS COURAGE TO THE TRICKING PLACE

All of Scrooge McDuck’s arch-nemesees … Nemesissies… Numismatists? All the dastardly deed doers of Duckburg teamed up to take down Uncle Scrooge. Flintheart Glomgold, John D. Rockerduck, Magica De Spell, and the Beagle Boys all working together. Over the course of Uncle Scrooge # 13 and 14, they actually managed, working together, to do what none of them had ever been able to do alone. They got everything from Scrooge. His property, his businesses, his three cubic acres of money, his money bin, his number one dime. Even his stake in the lawsuit he filed against some johnny-come-lately named Ebeneezer. Scrooge was broke, destitute, well off from being well-off even.

But that was issues 13 and 14. The first two parts of a four-part story. Issue 14  saw Magica run off with all three cubic acres of Scrooge’s case and in issue 15, Scrooge reacquired it from her. Scrooge had physical possession of the cash, but he didn’t have title to it or anything else he had once owned. Then came issue 16, the fourth-part of the four-part story and guess what?

If you guessed Scrooge gets everything back you’d be…

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Well, let’s see.

Scrooge convinced Rockerduck that Scrooge had died by having Donald give a fake interview about Scrooge disappearing while on a quest to rebuild his fortune. Then Scrooge pretended to be his own ghost and convinced Rockerduck that he shouldn’t trust Glomgold and that to protect himself, he should bring in a third partner. Someone so rich he’d be on equal financial footing with, and able to stand up to, Glomgold. Scrooge suggested Rockerduck sell all rights, shares, and deeds to Scrooge’s old companies to the Pasha of Pushbak.

The next day, Rockerduck prepared a contract of sale and sold it all to the Pasha. He also signed a confidentiality agreement prepared by the Pasha’s grand vizier.

Except that it wasn’t the Pasha of Pushbak. It was Jubal Pomp, a con artist who had once posed as the Pasha of Pushbak to try to swindle Scrooge. Now he was working with Scrooge, who was disguised as the “Pasha’s’ grand vizier to fool Rockerduck.

The next day, Scrooge showed up to lay claim to his newly-restored property. Naturally Glomgold doubted him, until Scrooge showed him a transference agreement signed by Rockerduck returning “everything back to me.” Then Scrooge showed Glomgold that the Beagle Boys, whom Glomgold had tried to have killed earlier in the story, were still alive (Scrooge and Donald having saved them) and were willing to go public about all the crimes Glomgold committed in his anti-Scrooge plan. Scrooge promised not to press charges, if Glomgold sold him back “everything you stole” for one dollar. Glomgold agreed.

And so, victorious once more, Scrooge got…

Nothing actually.

Scrooge’s whole plan was predicated on his getting title to his property back when Rockerduck sold his shares of Scrooge’s property to the Pasha of Pushbak. Unfortunately, he didn’t get title to anything from that transaction.

Don’t tell me, sure he did, right there on pages 14, 15, and 16 of the story. I know what’s in the story. But I also know what’s in the law books. And I tell you with confidence, Scrooge didn’t get quack spit from that Pasha of Pushbak transaction.

Rockerduck prepared his agreement transferring his share of the property to the Pasha of Pushbak. I doubt very much that when he prepared this document Rockerduck mistakenly inserted Scrooge McDuck’s name for that of the Pasha. Rockerduck may be an idiot, but he has too much ego to be that id-iotic. It stands to reason, therefore, that the contract Rockerduck drafted sold Scrooge’s former property to the Pasha and didn’t sell anything back to Scrooge. So what was the transfer document that Scrooge showed Glomgold.

It was exactly what Scrooge said it was. It was a document that transferred everything back to Scrooge. And it was signed by Rockerduck. But it wasn’t the one Rockerduck prepared. It was one Scrooge prepared.

It was the confidentially agreement that the Pasha had Rockerduck sign, which wasn’t actually a confidentially agreement but a contract that transferred everything back to Scrooge. Apparently Rockerduck got into some bad habits by signing his iTunes without reading them, and signed this “confidentiality agreement” without reading it. Scrooge even crowed that “Rockerduck doesn’t even know what he signed.” See, I told you Rockerduck was an idiot.

But the “confidentiality agreement” didn’t transfer anything, because it wasn’t legally enforceable. Rockerduck signed it, because he was told it was a confidentiality agreement. He didn’t know it was a transfer of property document, because Scrooge lied about what it was. That was fraud in the inducement. As Rockerduck didn’t sign what he thought he was signing, there was no meeting of the minds between him and Scrooge. The transfer agreement was null and void and Rockerduck still owned everything he was tricked into transferring to Scrooge.

Scrooge can’t even say that Rockerduck transferred his property to the Pasha of Pushbak under the contract that Rockerduck prepared and that the Pasha then transferred that property to Scrooge. The contract between Rockerduck and the Pasha was just as unenforceable as the “confidentiality agreement” was for the same reason. Fraud in the inducement. Rockerduck thought he was selling something to the Pasha. He wasn’t. He was selling it to a con man disguised as the Pasha. There was no meeting of the minds between Rockerduck and the Pasha, because there was no Pasha.

Of course, I don’t think there could have been a meeting of the minds between Scrooge and Rockerduck under any circumstances. If Rockerduck was stupid enough to fall for Scrooge’s ridiculous scheme, he didn’t have much of a mind to begin with.

Marc Alan Fishman: When Page Does Not Translate To Screen

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The battle lines are drawn each time a leaked picture hits the web. The tattooed Joker. The dark-costumed Superman. The old-school-but-with-new-web-shooters Spider-Man. The Flash — the TV one or the movie one? Aquaman, a.k.a. the WWE’s Roman Reigns. Starlord by way of Han Solo. And whatever the hell Lex Luthor was doing with wardrobe from the porn parody of The Social Network. It sets the nerds on fire in heated debates and discussions. At their core, no true fan of a character can draw peaceful breath while their favorite character is reinterpreted by Hollywood costumers and art directors who totally do not even know what comics are!

And then the stories themselves! What good is Batman v. Superman when it seems like the writer’s room and director are hell-bent on cramming eight major stories into a single bloated cry-fest? Or what of Marvel basically rewriting the same script over and over, but changing the lead character to whatever name is on the title page, to fill in a roster spot for the next massive crossover planned in 2021?

And of course, the studios get their fair share of the blame. How many more retreads of the Fantastic Four will we have to sludge through until the owners of the license finally figure out they can’t make work? Who will tell DC that it’s not a great idea to take the notes on your universally not-loved picture and just apply them willy-nilly to the next movie in line? And I haven’t even scratched the surface on some of the indie debacles we’ve seen that utterly miss the point of their source material.

For every amazing adaptation like Sin City, Hellboy, Deadpool, and Iron Man, we are made to suffer through the muck of Ghost Rider, Catwoman, and Green Lantern. And in all of those cases, it’s seemingly impossible for the nerd masses to unite in love. And even sometimes when the creators totally get it right — Scott Pilgrim, American Splendor, or Ghost World — it doesn’t always spell mind-blowing blockbuster. Which in turn causes the studios to intervene and hire writers and directors to apply their “Hollywood Magic,” and thus we get Batsad v. SuperSerious: Dawn of RainFights or the recently released Batman: The Killing Joke of Barbara Gordon Having Sex With Batman, WTF!

So, how do we deal? Well, I’d say you take a page right out of John Ostrander’s book. No, please don’t tear up the man’s comics! John’s review of Suicide Squad was the best review of the film a fan could ask for. Why? Because John proved that one can love the source material separated from the film is winds up inspiring. What a novel idea! Taken without the source material in mind, Suicide Squad is a loud-brash-loud-angry-loud-bright-loud action flick. A decent one, in fact. Is it Hamlet? No. But it’s a good popcorn flick where things go boom, and the one-liners make you giggle. Are there better comic book adaptations? Yup. Plenty. But taken for what it is — an action movie that will tie-in to future action movies — it was a nifty romp.

This, of course, leads to my unanswered question of the week. How can we, the nerdiest of the nerds, separate ourselves from the horded minutiae of the pulpy roots we commit to memory that now morph into multiple new media? I am truly of two minds on the subject. I think immediately of an adolescent girl who sees Suicide Squad without any knowledge of the source material. I think how she walks away loving Harley Quinn. And I bristle at the thought. “How could you like that vapid one-liner spouting Hot Topic walking advertisement!” I chortle in my mind. But then, the counterpoint seeps in creepily behind the bluster. “If she truly loves the character, she might seek out more information, with which she might partake of Mad Love, or several other better interpretations of the character and come to love Harley more wholly!” And that my friends may end up being the grey answer out of our world of black and white.

We simply can’t blame Hollywood for attempting (and failing) to stick closely to the roots of any license they gobble up. They are in it to make money. That means casting Will Smith and writing Deadshot less like John Ostrander did and more in line with what puts butts in seats instead of eyes at the local comic shoppe. At the end of the day, the character is able to live in infinite iterations. The cream will always rise to the top. Lest we forget: Harley Quinn was made for a cartoon long before she was comic cannon. Starlord as a wise-cracking anthropologist with a love for scoundrels just looks and feels cooler than an uptight space-Nazi.

In a world where every comic has potential to become a great TV show or movie, we are actually allowed to have our cake and eat it too… so long as what makes it to screen is treated with depth, clarity, and care.

Martha Thomases: Tony Shalhoub and the Virus

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“Gimme danger, little stranger / And I’ll feel your disease”

Iggy and the Stooges, “Gimme Danger”

Mortality is a bitch, and being aware of it even more so. On the other hand, knowing we’re all going to die someday is the inspiration for some great art and some rousing entertainment.

Especially this summer. Gee, I wonder what’s happening this year to freak us all out?

If you listen to the network news (or even read a newspaper, like an old person), you have probably heard plenty about the Zika virus. Spread by mosquitoes, it causes microcephaly in the fetuses of infected pregnant women. I first heard of it striking in Brazil, well before the Olympics, and the virus has spread (as viruses will) throughout the world, including outbreaks in Florida. Besides mosquito bites, Zika is also spread through sexual contact.

Some doctors think that, if one isn’t pregnant, Zika is no worse than a cold or the flu. Others think that it might cause neural damage in people who are infected.

That’s scary enough for me, thanks.

Luckily, my fears (and maybe yours, I don’t know your life) are being exorcised this summer by Brain Dead, a really funny series on CBS about aliens from outer space who look remarkable like ants and who eat the brains of humans. In this case, the humans are senators and other denizens of Washington, DC. A side effect of having aliens eat your brain is that you become more extreme in your opinions and less amenable to compromise.

It’s amazing anyone notices anything wrong, doesn’t it?

I started to watch this because it has Tony Shalhoub in it. He is a treasure, chewing up the scenery with the same enthusiasm as the bugs eating his brains. I kept watching because many of the episodes are directed by Allan Arkush, who directed

one of the greatest, if not the greatest (depends on my mood) movie of all time.

The series is best when it plays the jokes as broadly as possible. The conservatives with their rabid hatred of progressives and the liberals who loathe right-wingers, work themselves up into froths of rage. Sometimes their heads literally explode. Everyone is extremely paranoid of every little thing, and with good (and hilarious) reason.

It’s less successful when it gets earnest and tries to tell us (not show us) that compromise is an honorable way to get things done.

There are only two episodes left, and apparently, there is a slim chance the series will be renewed for another season. Personally, as much as I enjoy it, I would prefer to see it end. Under the Dome, also a CBS summer series, suffered when it lasted longer than the book, as the producers tried to come up with more and more ridiculous ways to extend the menace. Step on the alien ants and be done with it.

Another television show with a viral subtext is The Strain, which just started its third season on FX. Based on a trilogy by Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan, this is the scariest thing I watch on television. It’s about vampires attacking New York City. Unlike your average vampires, these creatures are humans who have been infected by worms, who attack new victims while their hosts are feeding. The hero is a scientist with the Center for Disease Control.

I really liked the books, and I really like this series, although it started to veer away from the source material last season and will probably continue to do so. Since both authors are actively involved as producers, I assume the reasons for the changes have to do with the differences between print and video. However, three seasons, like three books, seems to me to be a natural and organic life-span for this concept.

Enjoy this last unofficial weekend of summer! Try to stay out of the sun (or use lots of sunscreen), and stay away from things that bite. If you can, avoid the news, at least for a day, because the political coverage will make you crazy.

And, please remember — language is a virus.

REVIEW: Ghosts

Ghosts
By Raina Telgemeier
Scholastic Graphix, 240 pages, $10.99/$24.99

GhostsRaina Telgemeier has built a fine career for herself as a graphic novelist, she cut her teeth on adapting four of the Babysitter’s Club novels before creating her own original works, beginning with Smile. Now, with her fourth offering, she is an acclaimed New York Times Best Seller and this work is receiving a 500,000 copy first printing.

The secret to her justified success is that her work is accessible and identifiable. She takes the basic elements of teen life, such as receiving braces or dealing with siblings, and turns them into refreshing stories that can ease discomfort or bring simple entertainment. Her fluid, cartoon-style also make the characters fun and easily identifiable, her worlds recognizable, and her pages flow easily from one to the next, never losing the narrative thread.

This time around, she uses inspiration from the time she lived in Northern California and her fascination with the Mexican Day of the Dead celebration to create an original story about, once more, sisters. The family has relocated up the coast to Bahía de la Luna in the hopes the foggy, cooler climate will help Maya, the younger of the two, breathe easier. Born with cystic fibrosis, she has not had an easy time of it, although her unbridled zest for life, has not slowed her down too much. The story, though, is narrated by older sister Catrina, a teenager who loves her sister and still feels weighed down by her.

The relationship between the siblings forms the core of the novel as both are plunged into this new town and its largely Hispanic populace, which honors their ancestors with shrines and happily anticipates seeing them each Halloween at the Day of the Dead party.  This is a world that accepts the supernatural and people interact with ghosts without fear, something the girls both need to learn. Their guide in this is Carlos, their neighbor and Ghost Tour guide, who is friendly to both but definitely finds a spark in Catrina, something she is slow to recognize or embrace.

While Maya readily accepts the spirits, her body weakens and her struggles impact Cat’s outlook on the town and their spectral residents. Her conflicted nature towards Maya feels real and Telgemeier mines this incredibly well.

Interestingly, she includes sketches from 2008 when she first began thinking about this story. There’s recognizable linework but her work has simplified and evolved since then. Her work is strong, aided by colorist Braden Lamb, resulting in a very satisfying and emotionally uplifting story that should entertain readers of all ages.

Dennis O’Neil: Priorities

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Hey, ja hear? Two Supergirl episodes tonight! ‘Course, I’ve seen ‘em all, but it’ll be a pleasure to see ‘em again. You too?

And hey. Looks like the Cardinals won’t make the playoffs this year. Darn shame, if you ask me. But there’s always next year. One’a these years, the birds’ll go the distance.

Huh? You said something about water?

Netflix has a new sitcom streaming. Maybe that’s why you mentioned “water,” ‘cause water streams just like sitcoms. Well, not exactly, but you know what I mean. Anyway, we’ll give the new sitcom a watch right after dinner. Well, maybe not right after dinner ‘cause Supergirl’ll be on from eight to ten and we won’t be missing a single second of that. It’s important to know what Netflix is up to, though not as important as Supergirl. That Melissa Benoit – is she an actress or what! But I don’t have to tell you that it’s important to know what Netflix is up to. Ja hear that they’re releasing a Luke Cage movie, to go with Daredevil and Jessica Jones? We’ll be turning off the phone that day! It’s important to know what Netflix is up to. Did I already say that?

Rain? Is that what you said? Like what kings do? That kind of rain?

And ja hear about Brad and Angie? Apparently they’re talking divorce. Wow, I’d sure hate to see that. A darn national tragedy, that’s what that would be. Seems like Brad got caught kissing Marion Cotillard – she was Talia in the last Batman flick, you remember. No, no, not the tall woman, the shorter one. The tall one was Anne Hathaway – how could you forget that? She was Catwoman. No, not Halle Berry Catwoman or Michelle Feiffer Catwoman, or those other ones…We’re talking the lovely Anne Hathaway, darn it.

“Run for office,” did you say? Like, an office is on wheels and it’s going downhill and you have to catch it?

Oh, politics. Yeah, politics can sure be fun. I can’t wait to see what those wacky ducks’ll do next. One said the other was a “poopy head,” or something like that. I heard it from my uncle and he I think he was eating something while we were talking, and, you know, he was hard to understand. It was a doughnut, maybe. Anyway, those politics’ll come up with something funny every time – you can take that straight to the bank, my friend.

There you go again, yakking about floods. So there were some floods in some of those states we don’t know about and in Louisiana they’re saying it’s the worst disaster since Hurricane Sandy? Houses lost. Dead people. Stuff like that’s too bad. But they’ll get over it.

Ja hear that Ben Affleck is the next Batman?

Giant Days, Vol. 2 by John Allison, Lissa Treiman, and Max Sarin

I will keep telling you to read John Allison’s comics until either you do so or you stop listening to me entirely. So take that part as read — like Scarygoround and Bad Machinery , Giant Days is a lovely mix of smart dialogue and real characters and quirky situations. Though Giant Days, being set away from Tackleford, those quirky situations are less likely to involve dimensional portals and selkies and alien potato creatures. (At least so far….)

Volume Two finishes up the first term at an unnamed British University for our three main characters — Susan and Daisy and Esther — who have a big formal dance, and a big visit back to Susan’s hometown during the break, and the big finals, and then…um…a big new boyfriend for Esther? (Parallelism can only go so far, it seems.)

These four issues also see the big art hand-off, as original artist Lissa Treiman bows out after what was supposed to be the six-issue mini-series and Max Sarin steps in. To my eye, Sarin’s lines are a bit thinner than Treiman’s, and his art seem to have less depth…but, then, when does anyone ever think the new artist on a favorite comic is an improvement? He does a good job, and I’m sure I’ll bitterly resent it if he ever leaves Giant Days and someone else takes over.

So: female-focused writing, with believable people and real-world situations and some of the best dialogue available in comics anywhere. What are you waiting for?

Reposted from The Antick Musings of G.B.H. Hornswoggler, Gent.

Molly Jackson’s Sports Talk

Strange Sports StoriesLet’s talk about sports. I’m serious. Yeah, I know the name of the website. Still, sports are fun. The taboo about comic and sports not mixing needs to stop. Yes, there are fans of one that dislike the other. There are also fans who like both, like me. And sometimes comics and sports even mix.

We’ve had a few comics about athletes or sports, and a fair share of athletes revealed as comic fans. But I was still surprised when Ryan Lochte, Olympic swimmer and medalist, announced as the special guest for Wizard World Richmond.

Now Wizard World does promote themselves as a “pop culture con” and sports is definitely part of pop culture. They have had wrestling guests at a few cons before. However, their target market is the average geek. It’s one thing for an actor that’s also a wrestler and another thing for an Olympic athlete that has never publically shown interest in geek culture to show up. The average attendee is expecting to see actors and comic creators, not Olympic athletes.

However, I could let this all go. I’m a sports fan. I would definitely be interested in seeing an Olympic athlete that inspired me and especially at an event I was already planning on attending. But not this athlete. Lochte is exactly where Wizard World went so wrong.

AquamanWhether you watched the Olympics or not, you’ve probably heard his name by now. He caused an international incident over his and his teammates’ drunken destruction of a gas station while representing the US at the Rio 2016 Summer Olympics. He allegedly proceeded to lie to local police and file a false police report.

Athletes, especially male athletes, are not held to the same standards as other people. Throughout the years, we’ve heard of professional athletes getting away with alcohol and drug abuse, weapons charges, physical and sexual assault. The list can go on and on. No matter what charges they face, society as a whole traditionally deems them better than that. However, this should not be celebrated.

The geek community has long been participating in activism. We’ve boycotted movies that supported racists and bigots. We’ve boycotted comics of misogynists. We’ve had staff of comic cons openly denounce laws that targeted a minority group unfairly. Lochte being featured in a con after committing a crime while representing the US is incredibly disrespectful to every con goer. The announcement of his appearance left a slew of upset and surprised comments on the Wizard World Facebook page.

Lochte has already been admonished by the media and has lost approximately $1 million in sponsorships. For all I know, that is why he chose to do this convention, for the few bucks it could provide. He will probably never compete in swimming again. He earned those punishments by his own actions.  He lost the respect of an entire global community with his actions. We shouldn’t welcome him into ours.

When you go to a convention, give your time and attention to those people who are working for it.  Spend your time and money towards comic creators, actors, and even the wrestlers. Don’t waste your time and money on someone who failed to respect the world around him. Spend it on the people trying to make it a more entertaining and better place.

Mike Gold: The Comic Con Can-Can

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This weekend, a whole bunch of us ComicMixers will be making our annual trip to the Baltimore Comic-Con. For the record, that’s Martha Thomases, Adriane Nash, Evelyn Krite, G.D. Falksen, and myself. Glenn Hauman and Robert Greenberger  will be in New York at a big ol’ Star Trek convention, Emily S. Whitten will be at Dragon Con, and John Ostrander will be at several Michigan theaters watching Suicide Squad again. Glenn, Robert and Emily also are regulars at BCC, but this year the show shares Labor Day weekend with these other two east coast shows.

Baltimore ArchieYes, life is truly one long and never ending comic book convention. I’ve been going to the “big” ones (big as relevant to its time) since 1968. That’s 48 years, which is longer than most of today’s convention-goers have been alive. That’s about five years longer than KISS has been together, and, like former comics fanzine contributor Gene Simmons, I have long grown incapable of distinguishing between shows.

I’ve done fewer shows this year than I have in decades. That is, in part, a coincidence, but it’s also symptomatic of burn-out. I’m thinking that if I’m still alive in two years, I’ll make it a full half-century by sitting in front of some massive convention center and burn a copy of Superman #1 (the 1938 version) in protest.

And what would I be protesting? Well, to me that rarely matters but in this case I would be publically mourning the lack of comic books at these massive comic book shows. I’m a comic book fan, damnit, and the rest of you should just get off my lawn.

That’s why I go to the Baltimore Comic-Con, and in this I think I speak for my less jaded cohorts. Despite its size and its longevity, the Baltimore show remains focused on comic books. Sure, there are media guests and sure, there’s a lot of cosplay and gaming and such, but the love for comic books and the desire to meet up with others with similar affections permeates every aisle of the show. Kudos to Mark Nathan and his experienced and gifted staff.

As usual, ComicMix will be assaulting the Insight Studios booth – that’s booth #118 – once again proving that Mark Wheatley is the nicest, kindest, and most emotionally tolerant person in the time-space continuum.

Dredd BollandComics as a genre have never done better, but this is entirely because of the flock of movies and television adaptations. The average sales of the traditional comic book sucks and sucks badly, even though such low sales have been balanced somewhat by trade paperbacks, hardcover books, and electronic editions. These days, much of the fun comes from the endless parade of toys and merchandising tie-ins that dominate book stores and convention aisles. If you’re a Harley Quinn completest, your head is going to explode long before you run out of space to store all that stuff.

I still meet lots of people who have never been to a comic book convention and who are anxious to go to one of the bigger shows just to see what the hubbub is about. I envy these folks; that initial sense of wonder is a wonderful feeling.

It can also be overwhelming. We had actor/comedian Margaret Cho set up for an interview at the San Diego Comic Con several years ago. She showed up early (there goes another Hollywood stereotype) and, after scoping out the room, Margaret started to take on the appearance of an agoraphobic. I walked Margaret around the vicinity of our table and made small talk while pointing out the wacky stuff we encountered. That worked: funny appreciates the funny, and there’s lots of that at your average comics show.

I completely understood this feeling. Chester Gould was guest of honor at one of our Chicago Comicons and the turn-out at his booth was intense. Chet declined to returned to the show on Saturday and Sunday. And before he drew a single line for any American publisher, Brian Bolland was convinced nobody would have heard about him. I told him Judge Dredd was bigger here than he thought, and Titan Books had just come out with their first reprint trade – entirely of Brian’s work. As it was with Chet Gould, the turn-out at his booth was intense and Brian opted to stay in his hotel room until he could adjust to the love and enthusiasm of the western hemisphere.

WildcatBut the best part is watching the faces of the small children who are brought there by their fan parents, usually dressed up as the cutest superhero in the universe. They hadn’t had so much visual stimulation in their lives; clearly, they were having great fun. But I strongly suspect that, like Margaret Cho and Brian Bolland, they get overwhelmed and retreat to their portable hidey-hole: napping in the stroller.

Rarely have I heard a small child continuously bawling at a comic book show.

48 years is a long time to do anything, but of course the opportunity to meet up with my friends and to talk with the fans and sign some books and tell some stories is irresistible. I am reminded that first-generation comics pros such as Jerry Robinson and Irwin Hasen regularly attended comics shows until they stopped walking the Earth.

You know, I totally get that.

Box Office Democracy: Don’t Breathe

It’s hard to describe why Don’t Breathe had me so consistently scared while I was watching it… it almost seems like dream logic at this point a couple days removed from viewing. There’s a very clever sequence where they just quietly show you the house that 85% of the movie is going to take place in, and they do it by just having the camera pass through the house. It goes down one hallway, up through the ceiling and through the second floor in a kind of transparent Chekhov’s single-family home kind of thing, and while I knew it was guaranteed nothing terrible would happen during this sequence I could barely look at the screen. The sense of menace during Don’t Breathe was so powerful and pervasive that even when the movie stumbled with character or an overly long climax I couldn’t look away.

I understand that characters in horror movies often have to be quick sketches to properly get to the action in the allotted runtime, but Don’t Breathe might be skimping on the characters a little too much. It’s hard to root for characters that are criminals, especially when the crime is robbing a blind man, so the film goes way over the top to try and give us characters we can try and root for. Rocky (Jane Levy) has an abusive mother so extreme that Eminem would find it a little far-fetched. She’s just robbing houses to save up enough money to take her little sister and move her to California and a new start. Alex (Dylan Minnette) is a thief but a very practical one with a strict code about what they steal to maximize safety and minimize legal risk. He robs people but he also refuses to consider moving away because he has to take care of his aging father. Money (Daniel Zovatto), Rocky’s boyfriend, is more of a cliché troublemaker and, well, they show him getting murdered in the trailer so he doesn’t last very long. They want us to think these people are ok even though they do bad things, and it didn’t work for me at all. It took so much more for me to view these kids as sympathetic characters.

They had to make the robbery victim so much worse to get me to root for those characters; to turn him from victim to monster, and they do it with relish and gusto. I’m getting in to some spoilers here so this is your opportunity to turn back and not know.

<clicks away to check email while spoilerphobes leave>

We find out early in the second act that our blind homeowner has a woman chained up in his basement— not just any woman but the woman who killed his daughter in a car accident. It flips the equation on us: sure these kids are thieves, but this guy is a kidnapper. Kidnapping is a worse crime than robbery, and so we have our proper good versus evil story restored to us. Much later in the film we discover that he had impregnated the kidnapped woman and plans to do the same to Rocky in a intensely uncomfortable artificial insemination scene. While being one of the grossest scenes I’ve ever seen committed to film, it was nice to see it done without emphasizing the sexual aspects of Rocky’s peril. We see her experience this horror through angles that accentuate that she’s helpless and terrified, but that don’t linger on her being exposed or whatever. (Her cut jeans do seem to magically fix themselves when she escapes and needs to run around more, but I’m willing to let that go for propriety and avoiding an NC-17 rating.)

When I saw the first trailer for Don’t Breathe, the one that focused heavily on the sequence with the lights out in the basement, I thought that someone had decided to make an entire movie out of the night vision sequence at the end of The Silence of the Lambs and how torturous that would be to watch. Instead I got the scariest movie I’ve seen so far this year, a frightening little gem that might not play fair the entire time (every blind person is not Daredevil) but delivers where it counts. We’re coming up on the big horror season (I could see having horror movies in this space for the next month looking at the calendar) and it’s exciting to see the gauntlet thrown down so convincingly ahead of the parade of remakes (Blair Witch) and hastily reskinned versions of Alien (Morgan) coming down the pipe.

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