From Sting’s 60th Birthday Party at the Beacon Theater in New York City, here’s birthday boy Robert Downey Jr. sharing vocals with Sting on “Driven To Tears”:
Happy 50th Birthday, RDJ!
This evening, whilst pondering and pontificating over what point I should pencil in the ole’ puter, I stumbled across <a href=”
this clip and its pretty <a href=”
sister clip. Suffice to say, color me curious, kiddos.
Contrary to the predilections of our esteemed Emily W. over here on ComicMix, I’ve never been fond of the Merc with a Mouth™. More often than not, I’ve found him to be a useful tool for a writer to take a short catnap and still be paid. I’ve often found most iterations of the chimichanga eating, joke cutting, kill-first-ask-questions-why ‘Pool to be lighter than light fare. I mean, check-off your aforementioned beats (with the chimichangas, and killing, and the what-not) and end it incoherently, and voila! Instant noodles in comic book form. Now with the character coming to the silver screen, the Marvel and Fox co-production will face becoming more than a farce to ultimately feast at the feet of the fans. Phew!
In less alliterative words: Deadpool, if handled properly, could be the death knell of DC and their movie making enterprise. How would a red-suited slapstick killer be so powerful you ask? Well, given the very nature of the character – as seen in the clips referenced above – the power to break the fourth wall is inherently at the ready. And Deadpool is very lucky to have a completely covered mouth when in full crimson regalia. Allow me to do the math, short-stacks. While doing their eventual ADR work for the film, the writers (and Marvel) will have the opportunity to poke more than a few wink-and-nudges right into the beefy chest of their rival.
Set to debut a month prior to Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, who here can’t see a possible future in which ‘Poolie crushes it at the box office? No doubt chock full of gore, laughs, and potentially lethal barbs fired at the angst-to-be that is DC’s milieu at present, it’s not that far flung to think that as popular as Batman and Superman are, one can’t deny that a Deadpool that rips the World’s Finest a new sphincter might turn more than a few heads. In the same era Marvel drop the Guardians of the Galaxy on the unsuspecting public – to the tune of over 400 million space-credits (not counting merch sales) – having another C-Lister take a few box offices over just seems like a wonderful insult to injury.
The Deadpool movie is written by the dude who made the hilarious Zombieland, and stars an absolute wit like Ryan Reynolds in the titular role (heh, tits…). That being said, there’s no chance in hell it will bank more money than Batfleck and company. But all it’ll take is a few glancing blows by ole’ Wade Wilson before DC is out of the gate, and suffering.
Given how self-serious DC seems to be with each released promo, I’m more than ready for a laugh at their expense. Somewhere between the Samoan Bad Ass Aquaman, and Bald-n-Angry Zuckerberg, Deadpool will have plenty of targets to play with – all while shooting guns and killing mobsters or whatever. While I’m sure the Deadpool movie won’t be specifically targeting any DC property amidst its running time, the fact is they’ll have plenty of opportunities to sneak in some serious body blows. Combine that with a potential massive profit (beyond all that money they made on literally every other movie in their rolodex…), and frankly, I don’t know how Superman and Friends live to see another day. But I digress.
Deadpool will be the popcorn catnip immature nerds will flock to. With Looney Tunes mashing itself with curse words and death, you simply can’t get the raunch-loving masses any more in a tizzy. OK, you could promise some boobs or something, but let’s not get hasty. While I’m not one for purchasing Mr. Wilson’s exploits within the pages of his on-and-off series’ from the House of Mouse… I’m apt at least for 90 minutes worth of brain rot and guffaws at the local megaplex.
Which, I have to say, is a hell of a lot more than I’m willing to give DC these days.
When I first started to work in comics, even though the medium was looked down on by mainstream culture as a bunch of geeks, it was very much an old boys’ club. There were women involved, even feminist women, but we were few and far between, leftovers from the hippie and underground comix scene. The boys in the boys’ club were as terrified of being considered feminine or queer as everyone else in the world was terrified of being considered geeks.
And now, being a geek is cool.
As geek culture becomes more mainstream, the definition simultaneously becomes more vague and more specific. That is, the meaning is in the ear of the beholder.
This week we saw some evidence that geek culture has transcended homophobia. Not that there aren’t still plenty of homophobes (and misogynists) (and racists) among us, but they are no longer our loudest voices.
As my pal, Marc Fishman, noted here on Saturday, Indiana recently passed a “religious freedom” law that, according to the Associated Press, “prohibits state laws that ‘substantially burden’ a person’s ability to follow his or her religious beliefs. The definition of ‘person’ includes religious institutions, businesses and associations.” For example, a bakery owned by conservative Christians (or Muslims) (or Jews) could refuse to sell a wedding cake to a same-sex couple.
The people who support the bill don’t like the way it has been perceived by the public, because it makes them look like the bigots that they are. As this Christian news site describes it:
“Under Indiana’s religious freedom law, not one Gen Con attendee (gay, transgender, cross-dressing) could be denied a seat at a lunch counter by that mythical boogeyman – the Christian bigot burger-maker with his ‘gaydar’ fully activated. That’s not what this law does.
“Instead, it protects a private business owner (who might be gay themselves) from being coerced by the power of government to act in a manner incompatible with their deeply held religious convictions. In other words, it protects the Jewish sign maker from being forced by the state to make pro-Nazi placards for the next skinhead convention.”
Aside #1: There is a long history of printers refusing to publish work with which they disagree, whether because the content is “pornographic” or otherwise politically distasteful. These printers simply turn away work they don’t want to do, without wrapping themselves in any kind of religious trappings.
Aside #2: So far, there have been no laws protecting the religious freedom of those devoted to other proscriptions from the book of Leviticus. I eagerly anticipate the first case in which a tattooed person or a menstruating woman is denied service because such things are forbidden by the Bible.)
Gen-Con, by the way, was one of the first companies to announce that they would look for a more hospitable business environment. Yes, the game convention. Rarely have I been so proud of my geek-dom. Instead of presenting themselves as the home of the Gamergate crowd, Gen-Con chose to stand up for all the people who enjoy gaming, insisting that everyone be welcome.
In the process, they pointed out that geeks (even queer and female and trans and non-white geeks) have money to spend and we won’t be shamed into use our dollars in ways that insult our own selves.
In other nerd news this week, the tech venture capital firm, Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers won a Pyrrhic victory over Ellen Pao. She had sued them for gender discrimination and lost, but in the process she opened the curtain on the casual misogyny of tech culture. As with Anita Hill a few decades ago, this case will have long-term effects that will last longer than the particular judgment.
And the Ellen Pao decision has the added benefit of not putting Clarence Thomas on the Supreme Court!
It’s been a good week. Say it loud, “I’m a Geek and I’m Proud.”
With WonderCon starting tomorrow, we have been spending a lot of time trying to figure out what to wear. While Hot Topic & Etsy make shopping for geek chic a lot easier, it’s at the cons where we can really get our fangirl fashion on. Like it or not, cons have become a nerd-cool fashion week and if style matters then you need to save wearing just a superhero t-shirt for school. It’s time to step up your geek game! So, in the spirit of pop culture couture we talked with some fashion-forward attendees at Long Beach Comic Expo about designing fan fashions and cosplaying.
Way back before your daddy was born – yes, it’s you I’m talking to – I wrote some superhero comic books that were based on real-life events and I guess they were successful. They got artist Neal Adams and me noticed and they’ve been reprinted and reissued in various formats and I still find myself autographing them at conventions. So yeah – successful. But I have two regrets about them.
The first is that the most of the problems they dramatized are still with us some 45 years later – the world has changed enormously but we still have racism and poverty and addiction and judicial malfeasance and especially climate disruption. I was worried about this stuff back in the day and I’m more worried now.
My other regret concerns my frame of mind when I was writing the stories. To me, it was obvious that what I was portraying was True and there was no doubt where Right and Wrong lived. None whatsoever. And I still believe everything I believed back then and I think I have better information and a clearer understanding.
But I wish I hadn’t been so righteous and certain. Most of the serious mischief – your wars and pogroms and the like – is and has been perpetrated by zealots. People who knew, absolutely, beyond any possibility of skepticism that their cause was just, that they were right, that, yes, God was on their side.
Sometimes they refuse service to gay couples. Sometimes they sponsor legislation that serves society’s predators. Sometimes they strap explosives to their chests.
So I wish that the person I was in 1970, the writer of those comic books, had allowed himself a few moments of doubt – allowed for the possibility, however distant and unlikely it might be, that he could be mistaken.
But…if that had been the case, would he have written those stories?
When they pass my hands I notice that they’re dog-eared and frayed and we climb to the top of he collection we notice that within their plastic bags evidence of yellowing and curled pages
Somebody’s read ‘em!
These are my people!
Pretty skimpy column. I could entertain you with hokey stories of trains and adventure but a lot of us is too lazy for that. We can hope, can we not?
Two funny ladies share their stories here . First, Eliza Coupe talks about her adventures in series TV (HAPPY ENDINGS, BENCHED) and her delightful new indy film, THE LAST TIME YOU HAD FUN. Then, meet Sarah Colonna. She’s a stand up comic, TV writer (CHELSEA LATELY) and a NY TIMES best selling author about to hit the chart again with her new book, HAS ANYONE SEEN MY PANTS.
We’re here just once this week, but right after the holiday we are back with a sneak peek at the new season of GHOST ASYLUM, shared by the guys who still have the goosebumps to prove it.
Be sure to follow us on Twitter @ThePointRadio.
Last week or so, everyone has been talking about the big two and their readers. Not to be outdone, I just had to share my insights that are slightly related and unrelated to what everyone is talking about.
First off, a confession. I wasn’t a big comics reader growing up. With the exception of the occasional Archie, I kept my head firmly in traditional prose. Growing up in a librarian’s home, books were my easily accessible fix for my active imagination. I really “broke” into comics in my twenties, following Buffy’s newest season onto the page. (Thanks Joss!)
I’m not as well versed in DC and Marvel because it was all so daunting to a new reader. Honestly, it still is. I can go back and read story arcs or independent stories but I’ll never have the wow of discovering The Killing Joke in issues or reading great events like Civil War as they unfold. I’ve made my peace with that. I still read DC and Marvel but I also hungrily dived into the indie market, finding more to love.
This has given me a unique spot on DC and Marvel’s radar. I’m a female comics reader with (albeit small) disposable income and not bogged down by decades of repetitive storytelling. I’m just a casual/occasional reader who that they want to reel in as a devotee. So we’ve gotten new reader initiatives of jumping on points, soft reboots, hard reboots, and events upon events upon events.
I’ll admit, DC’s efforts worked better on me than Marvel. While I’m not an active single issue buyers (see above about small income), I’m reading them in graphic novel or trade and on a somewhat regular basis. Marvel hasn’t wooed as well; they are the rare issue to purchase or the trade to borrow. This choice has more to do with character love than anything else.
Still, neither company has made a hardcore fan out of me. It’s a two-fold reason. First part is the media overload of these characters. I can turn on my tv and watch DC and Marvel characters in action, then go online and watch trailers from upcoming movies. After a while, I need something different. As a non-regular reader, these shows and movies don’t inspire me to read the current runs. I might go pickup the story a movie or show is using but I’m just as likely to read the outline on Wikipedia.
The second reason is all the events. By definition, an event is a special, rare, and unique experience. When Marvel is promoting the next event before the current event ends, what’s the point in getting excited? When I know something is coming a year out, I get underwhelmed by its arrival. Additionally, I can turn to the plethora of reviewers before I decide if I want to take the financial plunge. In either reason, they haven’t offered me anything intriguing to get me interested.
As the target market for these companies, I know they need to reach me with original stories and new, well-developed characters. Well-developed includes diversity in gender, sexual orientation (but not overly sexualized), race, religion and depth. I don’t want a diverse character that has the personality of a cardboard box.
Basically, I just want good, consistent stories to read. Don’t give me flashy events that requires buying 30+ issues. I’d rather have 1-2 amazing books to read. Until then, you are going to keep losing this target market to indie comics.
The epigraph on the second episode of the HBO series The Wire reads “You cannot lose if you do not play” which is a quote that really epitomizes the world view of the more entrenched characters on that show, they don’t believe in making waves, even to make things better, because they prefer the stability of the status quo. I worry that the people responsible for Home saw that quote and took it to heart in all the wrong ways because they have produced one of the safest, least ambitious movies I’ve ever seen. Home is less a piece of art and more a survey of focus groups and Q ratings with a heavy influence from a room full of executives free-associating with the phrase “what do kids think is funny?” written on a white board.
When I reviewed The Imitation Game I criticized Benedict Cumberbatch for a performance that I thought was one-third Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory and if only I could go back in time and tell myself to savor that performance. Jim Parsons plays the lead, an alien named Oh, and plays it in a way that if it weren’t for his screwy alien grammar you could probably convince me was recompiled dialogue directly from his show. It’s not that that character can’t work or that I never find it funny, far from it honestly, but if I wanted to hear Jim Parsons take things too literally, not understand typical human behavior, and embarrass himself in front of people he thinks are far beneath him I could do it at home on my television for free. There’s very little new he’s bringing to the table as an actor except for an accelerated story arc and way of speaking that feels like the Boovs learned English from lolcats.
Rihanna stars opposite Parsons as the infuriatingly named Gratuity “Tip” Tucci, a name I sincerely hope no one in the real world has because it’s just terrible. It helps that they cast Jennifer Lopez as her mom because it sort of seems within the realm of possibility that she would name her kid something like that. Rihanna does a passable job as a voice artist but she doesn’t do anything that ever lets you forget it’s Rihanna talking. It becomes especially unsettling when she turns on a radio at one point to teach Oh about music and it plays a Rihanna song, sung in basically the same voice the character talks in and no one brings it up or cares. Hiring honest-to-goodness voice actors would go a long way. Steve Martin is delightful in a rather small part as the leader of the aliens and I have now mentioned all but one of the credited voice actors in the movie in this paragraph.
Home simply feels like a movie with no effort exerted at any point. The script is good enough, funny but not really funny, passably suspenseful and emotional but not memorable in any way, uplifting but with no clear moral. The animation is at about the baseline for a modern animated film, it helps a lot that they remove all the humans from earth early in the film as it explains away their painfully static backgrounds. One of their big deal set pieces animation-wise is a swimming scene through the ocean at night, so it’s never quite as delightful as a Pixar film or even the other, more ambitious Dreamworks Animation projects like How to Train Your Dragon but it’s not the dreck that was the Ice Age franchise or anything. Home is a movie that a child would sit through happily and probably wouldn’t love enough to demand all of the toys afterward. There’s a place for movies like this but it’s the same kind of place as October horror movies and low-tier summer action movies. It’s a movie that wants to find an audience not by being special but just by showing up.
Due to a family emergency, current rounds of Mix March Madness has been delayed. We apologize for the inconvenience, and look forward to continuing, even though the remainder will be in April.
“It just goes to show ya, it’s always something. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”
Deathless words from the late Roseanne Roseannadanna. And, as the saying goes, truer words were never spoken. Today’s column almost didn’t happen, and I’m writing this so late that it’s possible my editor won’t be able to take a whack at it.
Yes, I am a firm believer in people not editing themselves. Even the editor-in-chief gets edited. Of course in that situation the EIC becomes just another freelancer, and freelancers know all the tricks of getting stuff past their editor. The most effective way is to turn in your stuff so late that the editor can’t get to it. Unfortunately, assistant editor Adriane Nash knows that stunt. Nonetheless, all the mistakes and typos herein today are the writer’s, and I’m mostly using only nine fingers so give me a break.
You might recall that last year at roughly this time I shattered all the bones from my shoulder down to almost my elbow, resulting in bionic replacements. This time around, I fucked up less dramatically but more whimsically. The bones in the middle finger of my right hand somehow got screwed up and for the last couple of months I stoically dealt with the pain and discomfort until I decided that stoicism sucks. So Monday I went to the doctor who would decide if I needed to be cut up or just given a shot. Together, we decided to give the shot a shot; we could always cut me up later.
That’s when he warned me the shot would cause agonizing pain for about 30 seconds. Evidently, the last guy who got this shot from him loudly and repeatedly called the doctor a cocksucker, which, he assured me, was incorrect. So I went through my mental thesaurus in a vain attempt to come up with an epithet that would be both clever and accurate.
That was needless. Whatever came out of my mouth was sub-articulate. I writhed and flinched and buckled so hard my chauffeur, the aforementioned Ms. Nash, thought I was going to break something. That thought crossed my mind as well. Thirty seconds never lasted so long.
Afterwards, my middle finger went completely numb – as it was supposed to. It felt like it was made of rubber and it ballooned up to the size of one of Fatso’s fingers, Fatso being of The Ghostly Trio fame. And that allusion to Casper the Friendly Ghost is about as close to comics as I’m going to get this week.
There are many things you cannot do with a totally numb middle finger, and typing heads the list. Adriane stepped in to edit Emily’s and Molly’s columns – she routinely handles Bob’s and the Tweeks – and I took the rest of the day off. Much like the previous month, I believe.
I woke up Tuesday morning intending to write about Hawkgirlwoman being part of next year’s new CW superhero series and the difficulties inherent therein. Hopefully, I’ll be able to do that next week. It’s an interesting idea, but I couldn’t execute it because that damn finger was still numb. Slowly, very slowly, the numbness wore off. Well, not totally, but it’s twelve hours before publication and it’s sufficiently functional for me to write about my favorite topic: me and my pain and agony.
It’s always something. If I didn’t need the middle finger of my right hand to communicate with my fellow Fairfield County Connecticut drivers, I would have chopped it off and worn it around my neck. But now that my middle finger is slowly regaining function, I can drive to the Indiana governors’ mansion and put that very finger to good use.
Yes. I know today is April Fool’s Day. I’ll celebrate later.
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