Tweeks: Review Riverdale
Maddy & Anya review the first two episodes of The CW’s new teen drama Riverdale comparing it to the comics.
Tagged: Archie
Dennis O’Neil: Teen Angst
I must have encountered Archie Comics while I was still young and innocent before the brassy hell we knew as high school — and military high school at that – before I began my ten-year abstinence from reading comic books. I can’t remember a time when Archie and his pals and gals weren’t on my radar somewhere (though the blip was probably dim and small. One of those deals where I knew something but didn’t know I knew it.)
The Archie posse was one of a bunch of similar groups that were sprinkled throughout the media in the years immediately before and after the Second World War. But the genre was born decades earlier, in the 1920s when the younger set began to be identified as a consumer group with few bucks in their pockets. The fictional teens got a boost from a series of movies starring Mickey Rooney as the lovable Andy Hardy, and then came the comics featuring guys and gals with names like Candy, Binky, Corliss Archer, Henry Aldrich, Patsy Walker. True confession: I once, briefly contributed to the Patsy scene. Way more fun than high school.
These stories, which might have been mistaken for sitcoms on a dark night, featured slightly cartoonish but attractive adolescents romping their way through high school and related activities – dances, games – and having disagreements with both peer groups and authority figures These squabbles weren’t serious and did not seem likely to put the teens on the path to juvie. Detention was all they had to worry about.
They were no respecters of media boundaries, these scamps. Some had radio shows back when network broadcasts were major sources of light entertainment. and young master Aldrich appeared in a series of movies. Most perished when comics were attacked by the political and muckraking witch hunters of the 50s and early 60s.
But not Archie. He continued to appear wherever there was a decent comic book store from his war-era debut straight on through to the present. Maybe we shouldn’t be surprised that he and his crew are on the tv. Yep, there they are in a weekly show titled Riverdale, Thursday evenings on the CW.
I could never identify with the comics’ Archie, who seem to have his friends, male and female alike, grafted to his hip. I was a loner (with a uniform). But Marifran was pretty much a typical teen who hung out with kids I didn’t know and did teenage things. (She also went on dates with me. I don’t think I wore my uniform.) The CW Archie doesn’t reflect my adolescence, which was to be expected, but it’s nothing like Marifran’, either.
This Riverdale is a series saturated in angst and gloom and the video Archie is involved in stuff the comics Archie would never have heard of, including an improper relationship with a teacher. Tch! So Riverdale’s world mirrors ours. It ain’t a barrel of laughs, but It’s well-enough done to merit another look. Maybe.
Dennis O’Neil: Technology Always Precedes Art
Let’s hop on back 40,000 years into the past and watch a fellow named Urg make marks on a cave wall with a piece of flint. We happen to know that Urg has only recently learned that he can make these marks and he is now in the process of finding a use for them. Hey, listen… he’s now making sounds. Could they be words? Can they give us a clue as what he thinks he’s doing?
URG: Ar-chee! Jug-heed! Ann-tee-loop!
And now we fire up our time traveling whatsis and behold! – we find ourselves in the pages of a comic book. The panel we’re in shows those Riverdale High funsters Archie and Jughead strolling down a sunny street. Nearby, enjoying a snack of grass, is an antelope.
ARCHIE: Hey Jug! Isn’t that an antelope?
JUGHEAD: Sure looks like one. Wonder why the artist put that in!
Okay, half turn to the left or right, depending on your political preference, and we find ourselves in the real world – that is, the world we happen to inhabit. We’ve just snuck through a back door into this week’s topic (and yes, maybe I’m being generous in calling what follows a “topic.”) In one sentence, here we go:
Technology always precedes art.
That’s really all I have to say, but I’ll expend a bit more band width anyway.
Remember Urg? He found that he could put scratches on the cave wall and then discovered that these scratches could be pictures and suddenly he was an artist! Time rushed forward and Urg’s descendants put Urg-like scratches into clay tablets and then people had both pictures and writing and then later descendants of Urg invented paint and canvas and various kinds of printing inclluding high speed presses driven by steam and photography and radio and television and silicon chips and the bank width I’m expending…
Urg sure had a lot of descendants and a number of them, maybe without realizing exactly what they were doing, put gadgetry devised by someone else to expressing themselves and amusing their neighbors and pretty soon, there stood Disneyland. And much, much more.
That “much, much more” might be a problem, unless it isn’t. Cinematic technology can put spectacular images on the screen and if we have a toy, we humans will play with it. (I saw a planet explode just the other day.) And all those explosions and chases can serve the story that contains them, but on another level, they’re spectacle. What I fear is that the spectacle is overwhelming drama and theme and the other stuff that can be put on screens and so we’re collectively losing valuable gifts the ancients knew about, things like catharsis and empathy. Am I tilting at windmills? Maybe. Probably.
The exploding planet happened in Star Wars: The Force Awakens and I’ll certainly see the next episode in the Star Wars franchise.
Dennis O’Neil: Our Superhero Posses
For rent: Secret laboratory. Ideal for mad scientists, superheroes and their posses.
Now, about those posses: time was when superheroes operated pretty much alone, or with a sidekick, who could be anyone from the original Green Lantern’s cab driving Doiby Dickles to Batman’s intrepid though preadolescent Robin. Oh, there were other continuing characters in your basic superhero saga – think Jimmy Olsen and Commissioner Gordon – but when it came to doing the daring deeds the folk in the costumes usually flew solo.
Then things evolved and –
Almost certainly, a lot more people will see Supergirl on television this week than ever read one of the Maid of Might’s comic books. She’s plenty super – give her that – and as bonuses, attractive and charmiing, but she doesn’t fight evil by herself. No, she’s allied with a brainy group of colleagues who hang their doctorates in a secret lab. And if we scan the videoscape, we see that Supergirl has peers. The other two television title characters most like their comic book inspirations, Arrow and the Flash, also have lab-dwelling cohorts who can always be depended on to have the information the good guy/girl needs.
Structurally, the three shows – Supergirl, Arrow, and Flash – are virtually identical. And, again structurally, they’re pretty close to Archie Andrews, that teenage scamp, and the gang at Riverdale High. The biggest difference is that the Riversiders have no laboratory, but nobody’s perfect.
There’s a lot to be said for adding pals to the superheroic landscape. They give the hero someone to talk with, thus allowing readers/audience to eavesdrop on vital exposition (though sidekicks can do this, too, and if you don’t believe me, ask Dr. Watson.) Supporting players can also provide story opportunities. And they can add texture and variety to scenes. And the occasional comic relief. And, by their interactions with the chief evil-queller, they can add depth to that individual’s psyche. But mostly they can serve the same function as those stool pigeons and confidential informants served in the old private eye and cop shows, the scruffies who always knew what the word on the street was: they can quickly and efficiently supply data that enables the hero to get to the exciting part, usually a confrontation.
Finally, the pals and gals give the hero what seems to be absolutely necessary: a family. It’s usually a surrogate family, to be sure, and it may not be much like your family, but it has a familial dynamic and it allows the audience to experience, by proxy, what might be missing from their real lives: a secure knowledge that there are people who can counted on, who will always forgive you and have your back. And such nearests and dearests have to hang out somewhere, so why not a secret laboratory?
And while they’re there, they can supply the location of that master fiend, the one with the purple death ray and the really atrocious table manners.
Mike Gold: Norm Breyfogle Needs Your Help – Now!
We are a community. We are fans, enthusiasts, historians, role players and practitioners of one of America’s true native art forms… and a member of our community needs a helping hand.
Over these many years, most of us here at ComicMix have worked with Norm Breyfogle. He’s best known for his work on Batman, although (since this is my column today) my favorite of his work was on Eclipse Comics’ Prime. He also co-created the award-winning Archie: The Married Life with our pal Michael Uslan and has tons of credits as an A-list comics artist.
Norm suffered a major stroke. He’s still with us, thankfully, but he’s paralyzed on his left side – of course, he’s left-handed. Norm spent a week in intensive care, which tapped out his savings, and he’s got months ahead of him in a nursing home getting physical therapy. It’s too early to tell if he’ll ever be able to draw again; my guess is, right now he’d settle for being able to walk again.
Like a great many comics freelancers, Norm had no insurance. I won’t get into the comics industry politics behind that; this isn’t the time for that. But needing insurance and being able to afford it are two different things, and I know from personal experience that for a guy Norm’s age – he’s 54 – adequate health insurance can run over fifteen grand a year, and that doesn’t count pre-existing conditions and that assumes your health record doesn’t make coverage impossible no matter what the price. I won’t get into the health care politics at this time either.
So I am asking you to help a good guy out. Yes, there are a lot of comics people who have found themselves in this position, and I know nobody wants to play pick-and-choose under such circumstances. You’ve got to take it one person at a time, one day at a time.
There’s a website called YouCaring.com that helps raise money online for people in Norm’s unfortunate situation. They’re trying to raise $200,000; as of this writing (Tuesday night), they’ve raised $26,000. That’s a good start. But if you’ve got an extra ten or twenty bucks, right now this would be the perfect home. The link is http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/legendary-batman-artist-norm-breyfogle-stroke-fund/281723; click on it and do a solid for a real good guy. And tell your friends.
Please don’t look at this as a guilt-trip. Lots of folks have the desire to help but not the financial wherewithal. And, of course, tomorrow is Christmas and with gifts, family functions, office parties and the like we’re all kind of tapped out. But if you’ve got something – anything – to help Norm out, please give it a thought.
Tweeks: Love Riverdale
The Tweeks would not exist without Archie. These were our first comics and we loved them. We still love them. Archie taught us to love comics and teen drama. So this week we talk all about Archie and make a case for the few kids out there who haven’t read Archie for whatever reason to get on it. We also review Afterlife with Archie (we admit, we were afraid to read it!) and Diary of a Girl Next Door: Betty.
Tweeks: Long Beach Comic Con Fun
September 27 & 28, we attended Long Beach Comic Con for the first time. It was our first smaller-sized con and we LOVED it! It was so easy and fun. We really were able to enjoy the art, the cosplay, and hear about new comics. We also learned how to draw The Simpsons, got the scoop on Afterlife with Archie, played Star Wars laser tag, and maybe did a bit of fangirl shopping on the floor.
Mindy Newell: The Doctor Who Dream Of Isabel Sofia Newell
It All Gives Me A Headache: Part Three (otherwise known as “Multiverse University”) is pre-empted this week to present a column by a special guest.
A few months before her birthday, Isabel asked me if I watched Doctor Who. “Oh, yeah,” I said. “Do you?” She hadn’t, but all her friends were raving about Matt Smith. “Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll get you the DVD set of Doctor Who.”
But I made a mistake. I only got her the 11th Doctor’s series. I figured that if she liked Matt, I would backtrack and get her the Chris Eccleston and David Tennant series.
But my brother thought it would be best to start at the beginning – plus I think he was curious about the whole Whovian phenomenon – so, using Netflix, Isabel and he have been binging on the Time Lord, starting with the 9th Doctor.
They’re both hooked.
And Isabel had a dream.
This – to cop a phrase from Law & Order – is her story.
• • • • •
You think you have had the best dreams about the Doctor and his TARDIS? You might want to think twice.
It started like this. I got on a bus to Hogwarts. I knew something was wrong because you take the train to Hogwarts, not a bus. I had just put my luggage away when I looked out the window of the bus and saw the Doctor standing there watching me. Before I could do or say anything the bus took off and then just as suddenly stopped. I got off the bus.
We were at Hogwarts, and…
…it was in the middle of town.
Again I knew something was wrong. And no way was I going to go into Hogwarts if it was so public.
Then I saw the Doctor walking right towards me, but something was wrong again, because right in front of my eyes he suddenly split into the 9th, 10th, and 11th Doctors!
“This is crazy!” I thought to myself, and started running.
And ran smack into two metal things.
I fell down and looked up.
I was staring at a Cyberman and a Dalek.
“Exterminate!” said the Dalek.
“Delete!” said the Cyberman.
Suddenly I had a sword in my hand.
I swung, striking the Dalek in its eye. I swung again, and exposed the Cyberman’s emotion-blocking chip. I reached in and pulled it out. Both the Dalek and Cyberman exploded into tiny bits of metal that rained down upon me.
I stood up, searching for somewhere to hide.
The TARDIS!
I ran to it, but I couldn’t open the door.
I saw the three Doctors coming towards me. I knew that I had to get away from them. I knew they couldn’t all be together at one time. That they were not my friends.
I ran into a darkened theater. I looked back. The three Doctors were still on my tail.
I kept running until I couldn’t run anymore. I collapsed. The three Doctors were almost upon me. I had lost my sword.
Then all of a sudden the three Doctors merged into one, and it was the 10th Doctor. He picked me up, brought me into the TARDIS, laid me down on a bed, and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
And I knew that I was safe.
• • • • •
Isabel Sofia Newell is a vivacious 13 year-old who I have known since she was born. A young woman of many talents, she is an accomplished blue-ribbon equestrienne on the show circuit, a cellist with PhilOrchKids – the Philadelphia Orchestra’s young musician program – and the Symphony in C Orchestra intensive summer camp based at the Gordon Theater at the Rutgers-Camden Center for the Arts in Camden, New Jersey. She is also a gifted singer, who has wowed audiences with her performance as everybody’s red-haired orphan, ANNIE, in junior summer stock.
Isabel is also a voracious reader, a fan of, among other things, Bone by Jeff Smith, the Archie family of comics, Percy Jackson, and, of course, Harry Potter.
And just recently, Isabel has become a Whovian.
TUESDAY MORNING: Emily S. Whitten
TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Michael Davis
Dennis O’Neil, Cowboy Poet
Cowboys who gallop and ride
Know how to take things in stride
They always have their pride
Cowboys who gallop and ride
Atrocious! Add your own melody and hold your nose.
I made up that ditty, or one close to it, years ago and I don’t know why. (To provide a contrast to good verse? To avoid thinking about something I should have been thinking about?) Shrug.
But it’s in my head today, maybe, is because last night on what we refer to around here as “the cowboy channel” had a “six gun salute” to Tim Holt, who was one of my favorite actors when I was six or seven. Five old movies: I watched two and recorded the other three for watching late at night when I’m not ready for the trek to the bedroom but should be. He was a favorite of my childhood, was ol’ Tim, and he had credits beyond the many B westerns he acted in, including roles in The Treasure of Sierra Madre and The Magnificent Ambersons. Looking at him on a television screen last night, I think I grasped the reason the snotnosed version of myself liked him: he seemed nice.
But is this not a column appearing in a site devoted to comic books? So why am I blathering on about old old oaters?
I offer two reasons.
First reason: there is a connection between comics and Mr. Holt. He had his own comics title that ran in the late 40s and earl 50s. In issue #20, he began wearing a red mask and calling himself – wait for it – the Red Mask. Eventually, the Red Mask took over the title and the Tim Holt persona quietly retired. (Did the Red Mask meet up with the Lone Ranger, the Durango Kid, and the Two-Gun Kid and did they mosey on into town and drink sarsaparilla and talk about keeping masks purty and the finer points of shooting hog legs from the hands of owlhoots? Reckon we’ll never know.) If I were in a folksy mood I might say that Tim was let out to pasture, but, despite the previous sentence, I’m not feeling particularly folksy and besides, that wouldn’t be true. Which brings us to…
Second reason: Tim Holt the actor (as opposed to Tim the character) didn’t exactly go out to pasture and there was a connection between Mr. Holt and a friend of mine, the late and beloved Archie Goodwin. Those of you who have entered our world recently may not know that Archie was an excellent comics editor and writer and an incredibly nice guy. Archie once told me that, after his movie career, Tim Holt relocated to Oklahoma where he managed a radio station and knew Archie’s father. Who knew?
A final note: What I call the cowboy channel is really the Encore Westerns channel. For me, checking into it once in a while is a mini-nostalgia trip, a backward glimpse into times, places and attitudes that no longer exist. For you young’uns…I don’t know–maybe you’ll see a connection between what are sometimes called “horse operas” and what are often known as “space operas” and maybe you’ll find that interesting.
FRIDAY: Martha Thomases
SATURDAY: Marc Alan Fishman
