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Michael Davis: Once You Go Black, Part Four

I got the idea for this series when I received a call and was told a project of mine was turned down because “Black doesn’t sell.” I was told to my face more than once by a certain asshole “when it comes to entertainment, black means death.”

Really, Bruce? How you living now, motherfucker? I’m going to guess it’s nowhere as good as I’m living, bitch.

Yeah, I tend to hold grudges but in my defense I’ve been pretty good lately. I’ve been known to rant like a mad man from time to time. In fact when I first started in the industry I did and wrote some shit that got me tagged as the “bad boy of comics.”

You know what I did upon hearing that? I changed the name of my studio from, Michael Davis Studios to Bad Boy Studios and, yes, this was before Diddy.

Why embrace what many think is a negative? Anger. I was very angry back in the day. I figured if people wanted a bad boy I’d be a bad boy.

How that work out for me?

Very well, actually.

Now, young creators, just don’t think you can develop an asshole, take no prisoners, attitude and the world will beat a path to your door. That road is paved with the bodies of many mofos who think that personality equals talent. It does not. People put up with Harlan Ellison’s shit because Harlan is the real deal, or to put it plainly, Harlan is one of the greatest writers to ever pick up a pen: Harlan once told Frank Sinatra to fuck off.

This was during the time when Frank was not only the biggest star in the world but he was also hanging out with more than a few wise guys, if you know what I mean. Harlan takes no shit and he calls a spade a spade. Harlan’s opinions are bigger than life but there is not a single publisher on this planet that would not love to publish a Harlan Ellison project.

But if you think that just being a bad ass is a great way to secure a rep and thus secure a career, you are an idiotic asshole or a Right Wing radio host and that shit will not work in comics.

How did (do) I get away with the occasional rant? Because I deliver the goods. I’m real good at what I do and I generate revenue and it’s all about the revenue.

I’m nowhere, even remotely in Harlan’s league but the people I work with know what they are getting with me and either they don’t care about my rants or they don’t think about them.

Why don’t they care? Would you care if the million dollars someone was bringing you were old or new bills?

It’s all about the money folks. It’s all about the Benjamins. It’s all about the cash. It’s all about revenue.

One day I realized that even though it had worked for me, anger was not the only way to fight against what I thought were injustices some wanted me to endure.

I figured I’d just cool out and not let little things bug me. Why be angry?

So over the past few years I’ve been mostly “rant free” on the comics and entertainment front. Politics is another matter; I regularly lose my mind about that over at www.MichaelDavisWorld.com.

While working on this series of articles I started to get angry. Angry like the Michael Davis of old. The Michael Davis of old that was the “I don’t give a fuck” Michael Davis.

My plan when I started writing these series of articles was to make my case in parts one through three and bring in some of my heavyweight black entertainment friends to underscore that black does indeed sell in this, my final installment.

So much for the plan.

I was on the phone with the director Bill Duke when the anger I’ve tried my best to curtain over the last few years returned with a fury. I told Bill I’d call him back and sat down to write this last segment and, yes, the old Michael Davis is back.

Back and I’m mad as fuck.

Hollywood’s unofficial “Black doesn’t sell” attitude is simply bullshit and the more I think of it the madder I become.

It’s all about the revenue and black properties and people generate revenue in every category of entertainment. Hell, in music and sports we are the rule, not the exception. You don’t see anyone saying that the white players in the NBA who fail is because they are white. No, they fail because they are not good enough, just like the black players that fail.

Duh.

I don’t have to call my Hollywood black powerbrokers to underscore that black does indeed sell. Take a look at what has been done across all entertainment areas. Every single one of the people on my list to call has made a grip in Hollywood and not just selling to black audiences. The Cosby Show was the most successful sit-com on television. Will Smith and Denzel Washington are two of the biggest box office draws ever. In fact, Samuel L. Jackson is the highest grossing film actor…ever.

Black doesn’t sell? Give me a fucking break.

Black projects sell like crack… if done right. That’s goes for every damn project in Hollywood. If done well, the project will do well.

Every time a black project does not do well Hollywood makes black creators in effect show their papers like a freed slave at a southern checkpoint. The black President of the United States of America has been vetted by the CIA, FBI and scores of other agencies. He has showed his birth certificate time and time again and yet some on the right continue to insist he show his papers, again, like a suspected slave stopped in the middle of Alabama in 1850.

Well it’s not 1850 and Hollywood is not Alabama. It’s 2012 and there’s a brother in the White House and Samuel L. Jackson is the highest grossing film actor… ever. If the leader of the free world and the king of the box office are both black don’t insult the intelligence of the people who buy those tickets you sell Hollywood with your “Black doesn’t sell” lie.

I am under no misconception that the Far Right inbreeding bastards will stop the attack on the President, but I still harbor some hope that the entertainment industry and hell yes this includes some comic book publishers will stop condemning projects because some black projects have failed, its stupid and has to stop.

In comics it’s not just a black thing either, projects that feature women fail and that’s reason for some publishers to be wary of the next project featuring women no matter how bad ass the idea is.

That’s just stupid.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The new Static Shock series was not cancelled because Static was black. It was cancelled because Static was fighting a giant fucking fish.

Grow the fuck up, Hollywood. It’s all about revenue and any project that succeeds or fails in this day and age does so on its creative merits or many other factors, bad marketing, horrible word of mouth, opened on the same weekend as Avengers II.

Reasons for a movie failing or succeeding are many. Making the reason black people is a bullshit reason. Granted if there is ever a movie called Kill All White People and it starred an all-black cast of white people hating black militants and the story line was to kill all white people and that movie failed then Hollywood would have a point.

Then, yes, if that was a real project, black meant death… on more than a few levels, if you think about it.

I know how hard Hollywood hates change, so here’s my idea. Ready, Hollywood?  Keep that silly black doesn’t sell bullshit line when a film that features a black storyline or actor in a leading role fails. Keep that but the next time Will Smith or Sam Jackson star in a film that makes a zillion dollars say the reason it did so is because they were black.

I’d be OK with that, but somehow I don’t think you would be.

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Emily S. Whitten

WEDNESDAY MORNING: Mike Gold

 

REVIEW: I Love Kawaii, Selected by Charuca

This is not the kind of book that lends itself to a detailed, in-depth review, but that’s just fine: it’s about what I need on a night when I want to keep up a string of daily review posts but feel too lethargic for overly energetic thinking and typing. (I was up at 5:15 for the bi-weekly global 8 AM meeting, so it’s already been a long day.)

Charuca is a character illustrator and designer from Barcelona; kawaii is a Japanese word for a very Japanese term — a super-“cute” style of art, all rounded lines, neotenic features, and massively anthropomorphized everything; and I Love Kawaii is a collection of art from kawaii artists from all over the world, each with four to eight pages of their art, contact and website information, and a short descriptive paragraph by Charuca.

No one ever says so explicitly, but kawaii looks like a style driven almost entirely by female artists. (There may be some seminal men lurking in the background, but I hope not; I want the women to have this movement for their own, just because.) It’s usually bright, full of saturated colors and crisp vector graphics, though there are some artists here who mix goth or folk art of classic childrens-book illustration styles into their kawaii, which gives I Love Kawaii more variety and visual interest than it otherwise would have.

The artists profiled here work in animation, in licensed-character design, in the production of vinyl figures — in short, in just about every niche of illustration you can think of other than “fine art” — since kawaii is a style meant to be produced, either mass or in small batches, and sent out into the world in waves. Their work is lovely and fun and bouncy and energetic and lovely and occasionally (just occasionally!) so sweet that it will rot all of the teeth out of your head in a second.

Comic Art, Trash or Treasure?

You sure wouldn’t know that the world is in an economic crisis by looking at the prices that have been paid recently for original art. Both Christie’s and Sotheby’s auction houses, who’s  recent auctions collectively tallied $266,591,000, established record sale prices for pieces of art including the most expensive work ever sold at auction, Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’ which garnered a whopping $120 million!

Fans of comic art began to scream themselves when Roy Lichtenstein’s painting, ‘Sleeping Girl,’ sold for $45 million, a record price for any of his works. Lichtenstein is often criticized by comic art enthusiasts for not having credited the long list of comic artists whose work he used as subject matter for his paintings. Comparisons of ‘Sleeping Girl’  and the Tony Abruzzo panel which it is derived from, as well as dozens of other comparisons,  can be seen here. David Barsalou deconstructs Lichtenstein with a vengeance and it is well worth following his crusade on the internet and in his facebook group.

The good news is that, though comic art has been generally viewed by the fine art community as “low brow” and is still not in a position to command the kind of money that Munch or Lichtenstein’s pieces do, original comic art is beginning to command some very respectable prices. It has long been known that there is value in collecting comic books. The highest price paid so far for Action Comics #1 being $2.16 million. The same comic book is estimated to be currently worth about $4.3 million.

Original comic art, on the other hand, is now gaining in value as well. The most expensive piece of comic art ever sold is reportedly a full page panel by Frank Miller and Klaus Janson from ‘The Dark Knight Returns.’ The piece sold to an anonymous collector for $448,125 as part of Heritage Auctions’  Vintage Comics and Comic Art Auction in 2011.

In the past week Heritage auctioned two more significant pieces that collected big bucks. Contradicting the earlier report Heritage claims that a Jack Kirby, Joe Sinnott original from Fantastic Four #55 featuring a half page splash of the Silver Surfer and signed by scripter Stan Lee achieved the highest price paid for a page of panel art selling for $155,350, roughly one third the value of the Batman piece.

Another work of original comic art that proved its muster was the first ever drawing of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird that fetched $71,700.

Forbes recently ran an article on their site that lists good reasons for investing in comic art  but neglects the obvious: Supply and Demand.

Though it may seem that there are tons of original comic art proliferating in the market, and there are, how many show significant images of major characters drawn by masters of the industry or are pages from historic works? Not as many as you might think and now that a lot of art is created digitally, the chances of hard copy future original art surfacing for sale are dwindling.

The idea that there are over seventy years worth of original art numbering in the millions of pages trafficking around the collectors market is false. Most comic art that was created prior to the mid sixties was simply destroyed by the publishers, considered by them as nothing more than waste once the printable films were made.

Flo Steinberg, secretary at Marvel during the early years of the ‘House of Ideas,’ was quoted in David Anthony Kraft’s COMICS INTERVIEW #17 saying, “We used to throw it out …when the pile got too full…it was like ‘old wood’ to us.” Likewise, there are stories of Neal Adams dashing across the office at DC to rescue original art that was about to be destroyed in a paper slicer! Any art that survived that slaughter was generally given away as gifts or just managed to filter its way out of the office as random souvenirs. The scary part is that most of the artists just accepted this practice as the norm!

By the late sixties when fandom started to prove that there was a secondary market for the art through the establishment of comic conventions and comic shops, artists began to demand that their art be returned. This was a tricky process since several people generally worked on any given issue. The art would be split up among the writer, penciler, inker, and even the letterer. Colorists usually would get back the color guides that they made for the color separator.  Because of this practice entire issues are nearly impossible to acquire.

By the 1980′s the independent movement gave creators many more rights and more creators were responsible for their work in its entirety but still, usually, would sell off pages at conventions, one at a time,  to support themselves economically.

Today more and more comics are being created digitally and hard copy originals don’t even exist. The work and creative talent  that goes into creating a comics page is once again being trivialized as an unfortunate part of the process. Instead of ‘old wood’ it is now just a collection of magnetic data hogging up a hard drive, facing obsolescence with the next wave of new technology.

The printed version may remain as the only collectable hard copy of future comic works and even that is challenged by digital delivery of comics. The art of making comics is finally being recognized as something of value yet its new found respect is threatened with its own potentionally temporary creative process.

Criticize Lichtenstein as much as you’d like, but his copy of a single panel, swiped from a forgotten romance comic, will exist for a long, long time and will only become more valuable while the original line drawing it was lifted from has probably been trashed for fifty years. How can we come expect the art world, or anybody,  to respect comics as more than source material for pop art parodies when we continue to allow the originals it to be disposable.

Is comic art trash or treasure? As comic artists, we need to decide for ourselves.

Celebrating Thirty Years of Comics History!

Gerry Giovinco

Monday Mix-Up: The Dark Knight (Curtain) Rises

In honor of last night’s Tony Awards, we present you with this little musical number starring everybody’s favorite Caped Crusader:

We don’t want to say that Batman’s getting a bit… irked at some of the other movies that have come out so far this year. On the other hand, it’s not like Jim Steinman is going to include this song in the Batman musical. (Hey, whatever happened to that Batman Broadway musical, anyway? Did somebody look at Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark and say, “Heck no”?)

The Point Radio: Erica Durance Swoops In To SAVING HOPE

Casting off the image of Lois Lane, Erica Durance is back on TV with NBC’s new drama, SAVING HOPE. She talks about the things that are and aren’t similar to her life in Smallville, plus Venom & Spider-Man will cross over in the movies and *BOOM* – up go comic sales in a big way.

The Point Radio is on the air right now – 24 hours a day of pop culture fun for FREE. GO HERE and LISTEN FREE on any computer or mobile device– and please check us out on Facebook right here & toss us a “like” or follow us on Twitter @ThePointRadio.

REVIEW: Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

While I like Sherlock Holmes, I am far from a scholar nor have I seen every film adaptation or read every pastiche written. Still, I love the concept and the characters and setting are certainly appealing. Holmes, as created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, is etched in the public mind as one of the most brilliant consulting detectives ever imagined with no clue going unnoticed. His encyclopedic knowledge is legendary and his eccentricities make him nothing but fascinating, including the desire to have Dr. John Watson accompany him as companion and official biographer, a level of narcissism unique in the late 19th century.

As a result, when it was learned Guy Ritchie was to helm a new adaptation with Robert Downey Jr. as Holmes, eyebrows rose around the world. Then we saw the 2009 release, and were generally pleased with the bromance between Downey and Jude Law, the latest Watson. This was a more athletic and handsomer Holmes, even capable of expressing desire for Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams). The film horrified some and enthralled the rest, earning big bucks and prompting Warner Bros. to fast-track a sequel.

A Game of Shadows opened in December and did quite well at the global box office and now it comes to home video and digital download from Warner Home Video. After the first film established Holmes, Watson, and London, the time had come to introduce audiences to the greatest criminal mind found in literature, Prof. James Moriarty. He was teased at the end of the first film and this time we waste little footage making it clear he’s the antagonist. We’ve already adored Jared Harris’ villainy as David Robert Jones on Fringe so were pleased to see him cast as the intellectual equal to Holmes.

Holmes has determined that a series of unconnected events points to Moriarty manipulating economic and political events in Europe to push the countries on an inevitable path to war. It falls to the detective to thwart the scheme but the key difference between the two is the professor’s willingness to callously murder and destroy while Holmes remains a moral individual. It doesn’t take Holmes long to convince Watson the sum of his equation is correct and despite his impending nuptials to Mary Morstan (Kelly Reilly), the doctor agrees to assist. And we’re off.

Along the way, we briefly see Irene before she is killed by the villain and the participation of Mycroft Holmes (a delightful Stephen Fry). Additionally, Holmes becomes intertwined with the affairs of a gypsy clan including Simza (Noomi Rapace) while Watson more or less parallels that with his confrontations with a former military sharpshooter Sebastian Moran (Paul Anderson).

This time around, there’s a lot of sound and fury but in the end it doesn’t signify a lot. Moriarty is correct that the countries are headed inevitably towards war, as happens 24 years later in our world, but the geopolitical issues are never brought up and audiences are left to take the man at his word. His intricate scheme for war profiteering shows a certain level of impatience, a trait Holmes never exploits. Instead, there’s fighting, running, shooting, and lots of talk. The film’s rhythm feels off-kilter as some characters impossibly escape death one time too many while others are dropped with ease. The final confrontation between the two masters, over the clichéd chess table, is well done but by then we’re feeling somewhat exhausted and not all that invested in the outcome.

What is nice is that we get more Holmesvision coupled at the end with Moriartyvision and their final battle is nicely imagined until the final solution, which echoes “The Final Problem” on which the movie is most loosely based.

In the end, the film was a mildly entertaining way to pass an evening but it doesn’t measure up to the first and felt somewhat bloated. If they really move ahead with a third installment, one hopes they find a stronger story.

The video looks and sounds great allowing you to luxuriate in the costumes, sets, and nicely integrated CGI backgrounds.

The Blu-ray comes with the Maximum Movie Mode hosted by Downey, who snarkily asks if we’re unwell or it’s rainy out, the only possible reasons people would watch the film a second time with the extras. He makes some nice comments about the production, how things were choreographer and shot so we get the usual assortment of behind-the-scenes material so yes, if you’re looking to kill two hours (less actually if you skip ahead to just Downey moments)  and like this sort of material, it’s worth a look.

There are 35 minutes of collected Focus Point featurettes in bite-size chunks focusing on the characters and situations. No deleted scenes or gag reels can be found here.

Additional material can be found on the Movie App with script-to-screen comparisons, maps, character bios and other material but that requires serious desire on your part and heralds a movie away from disc to the web for such content.

FORTIER TAKES ON ‘WINGS OF THE BLACK DEATH’ FROM RADIO ARCHIVES!

ALL PULP REVIEWS by Ron Fortier
THE SPIDER
Wings of the Black Death
(An Audio Book)
Radio Archives.com
6 CD Set
4 hrs. 46 min.
With the expansion of the increasing popular New Pulp movement, it was only inevitable that the audio book industry would enter this exciting new field.  One of the most aggressive to do so in the past year has been Radio Archives out of Spokane, Washington, headed by the wonderfully creative and energetic Roger Rittner.  Working with noted pulp writer and historian, Will Murray, Rittner and Radio Archives have began doing expansive audio book versions of classic pulp thrillers with the feel of genuine old time radio melodramas.  It is important to note that these are not exact, full cast recordings, but by adding brilliant sound effects and period background music, Radio Archives provides such marvelous audio atmosphere as to beautifully mimic those old radio plays.
“Wings of the Black,” was written by Norvell Page, writing as Grant Stockbridge, and appeared in the December 1933 issue of “The Spider” magazine. This exciting audio adaptation produced and directed by Rittner, features Nick Santa Maria as both the narrator and primary male characters to include Richard Wentworth, aka the Spider, and Police Commissioner Stanley Kirkpatrck along with Robin Riker who takes on the role of Nita Van Sloan, Wentworth’s paramour.  They are absolutely marvelous, each evoking these well known characters as we all imagined they would sound…and act towards each other.
The plot centers about a fiendish villain calling himself the Black Death. He has managed to get a strain of the Bubonic Plague and is systematically unleashing it on the people of New York City. He will only stop when they pay him a billion dollar ransom.  As if that were not horrendous enough, this merciless fiend has managed to convince the police that it is the Spider who is responsible to the point of leaving the Spider’s telltale crimson seal on the foreheads of his policemen victims.  Now, for the first time ever, Commissioner Kirkpatrick finds himself believing the Spider is in reality a heartless monster and he proceeds to hunt him down with all the resources at his command. Suddenly Richard Wentworth is battling both the fiendish mastermind and the police, frantically trying to evade capture until he can solve the mystery of the Black Death and bring him to justice.
Rittner’s direction is pace-perfect as he leads both Santa Maria and Riker through each chapter hitting all the right beats, from moments of intense action scenes to those of quiet, anxious reflection as the pair, depending on each other as never before, endure the Spider’s greatest challenge of his crime-fighting career.  Radio Archives’ “The Spider – Wings of the Black Death,” is a winner from the opening scene to the last. It pulls the listener into the raw, brutal, fantastic world of the classic pulps and in the end provides such a unique, rewarding experience as to delight both old and new fans alike.
Finally, this audio book is available both as a digital download and in the 6 CD set, both reasonably priced.  For those into new fangled digital toys, this reviewer would imagine the digital version would be their obvious choice. Whereas the legion of audio book listeners who prefer enjoying books while on long road trips will find the CD set much to their liking.  Either way, this is a package you will be thrilled with.  And if you aren’t familiar with audio books, this is easily the right book to begin with.  Enjoy.

A response to Catholic Online about homosexuality in comics

Thanks to Earth 2’s Green Lantern Alan Scott being reimagined as a gay character, Catholic Online asks Are Comic Books Marketing Homosexuality to Children? A Troubling Sign of the Times:

Superheroes should be protecting the innocent, catching bad guys, and serving up justice. Overt homosexual practice, and promoting the agenda related to promoting it, should have no place or in the pages of comic books especially when they are marketed towards children. The fact that it does is just one more sign that the homosexual equivalency agenda is rolling full steam through the fabric of our nation.

And this is our answer:

Mindy Newell: Success And Failure, Part 3

Picking up the thread…

College a no-go. Work a disaster. Israel a bust.

Spending a lonely night sitting in the terminal at Lod Airport (now David Ben Gurion Airport) waiting for my 5 A.M. flight to New York. Trying to ignore leering men. Struggling to stay awake. Not knowing where to go or what to do. Thinking I didn’t have a friend in the world. Nor a family. Believing they were so disgusted with me that my dad would rather foot the bill to keep me away from home than have me there. Wishing I was brave enough to go to Paris, London, Rome or Madrid. All I had to do was exchange the ticket.

That was the worst part, I think. Some part of me was mocking herself. Even as I checked in, as I was boarding, while I was finding my seat, some part of me was mocking, laughing hideously, scoffing and scorning.

Coward. Loser. Fuck-up.

Poor little lost girl.

I landed at JFK Airport. No one there to meet me.  Three hours later my mom and my Aunt Ida showed up.

Aunt Ida. She had an uncanny ability to show up when I was in trouble or unhappy, no matter where or far away I happened to be.

The first time was when I was staying at my Aunt Augie’s house on Long Island while my parents went on a trip. My aunt had gotten me an absolutely beautiful party dress to wear to a birthday party. Only it had a crinoline undergarment. Crinoline, for those of you too young to remember, was a god-awful material that looked like lace soaked in lacquer. It was as stiff as a board and scratched – no, stabbed – the skin. Well, my aunt put me in this dress and I was in pain. I cried and carried on and basically threw your average terrible childhood tantrum, even throwing ice cream into the face of the birthday girl. (I was really little, which perhaps explains my inability to simply tell my aunt that the dress “wasn’t working for me.”) Even after the dress came off, I continued to sob. After hours of this, the doorbell rang. Aunt Augie went to the door, and there stood her sister (my mom’s sister, too, of course), my Aunt Ida. I ran into her arms, screaming Fairy Godmother! Help me!! In her arms I quieted.  (Poor Aunt Augie. I so hurt her feelings.)

The second time that stands out in my memory is the time I was seven years old, and away at camp. I was climbing a tree. Climbing higher and higher, ignoring everyone far below me to come down. I climbed until I couldn’t climb any higher, and promptly fell off the tree. Whomp! A perfect executed, score ten, belly flop. My face kissed the pavement. Hell, my face tongued the pavement.  I remember voices around me. And lifting my eyes to see… my fairy godmother. Aunt Ida.

And here she was again, my fairy godmother. Come to rescue me from JFK airport.

Come to rescue me from myself.

Next week: “All you can do is open up the throttle all the way and keep your nose up in the air.”

First Lieutenant Meyer C. Newell

P-51 Mustang Fighter Jock

Separated from his squadron, shot up and leaking hydraulic fluid somewhere in the skies over Burma

TUESDAY MORNING: Michael Davis Isn’t Happy Until…

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Emily S. Whitten Goes Splitsville!

 

“Midnight Hour” puts a retro comic-book spin on Father’s Day

On June 17, millions will celebrate Father’s Day with a card, a gift or a dinner. But “Lee Martin’s The Midnight Hour” has a unique way of saluting dad: with a chainsaw.

In this month’s all-new episode, “How I Dismembered Your Mother,” a grassroots family man named Bruno (Didrik Davis) discovers that his rebellious wife plans to divorce him and take with her their young son, he goes on a chainsaw-wielding rampage of death which ends with the show’s signature twist at “The Midnight Hour.”

This entry airs as the show’s fourth season draws to a close (the season finale, “Secret of the Blood Children,” airs in August) and is rife with drama, dismemberings and death. Watch for a powerful performance from leading man Davis as well as some stomach-churning special effects courtesy Brian Schoof.

“How I Dismembered Your Mother” airs every Thursday and Saturday night throughout the month of June, 2012. Visit www.leemartinsthemidnighthour.com for channels, times and a live streaming video simulcast link.