Spoiler alert! Spoiler alert! Spoiler alert! Danger Will Robinson! Alarums and excursions! Better watch out, better not cry, better not pout…Beware! Mayday! Here there be dragons! Detour, there’s a muddy road ahead…
Okay, enough of that.
What I’m warning you about is the ending of The Bourne Ultimatum, now playing at a multiplex near you, recipient of good reviews, maker of serious bucks and, in the opinion of residents of this house, a pretty good popcorn flick.
The Big ComicMix Broadcast winds up Wizard World Chicago with a roll of the dice and an in-depth look at the many sides of the new gaming product previewed here at the show – from the new 24 game based on the TV show to a peek at the 40th Annual GenCon starting up ion just a few days. And did you know there is a red hot new pro wrestling organization that is on TV and toy shelves but isn’t spelled W-W-E? Then it’s a a quick shot from the Planet of the Apes guy from the day when he used to travel with a different bunch.
Roll The eight sided dice, kiss the wizard and PRESS THE BUTTON!
Before you start marching on Disney, remember this was a vastly different time in America. It’s fair to say that me writing that I dated white women would have been just cause for me to fear for my life in 1938 in some parts of America. We have sure come a long way!
Or… (Place ominous music here) have we?
There are still people in this country who think that women and other minorities are not equal.
It’s the year 2007 and the ERA has not been pasted. The Equal Rights Amendment, first proposed in 1923, is still not part of the U.S. Constitution.
What is up with that?
It’s the year 2007 and there are only 35 states that say that women are equal. So how far have we come? I know from experience that there still exists racism in this country. Statistics prove that sexism still exists. The “glass ceiling” is a frequent topic for documentaries and ‘special reports’ on news programs.
This Disney letter got me wondering if sexism and racism are real factors in the entertainment world. I have been on hundreds of TV pitches and never felt it was a factor. I, like a lot of black people have a sort of radar sense when it comes to discrimination.
No, I am not the sort of person (but I do know black people like this) who blame everything on being black. Have you heard any of these? They did not hire me because I’m Black. They won’t rent to me because I’m Black. They think I’m darker than them because I’m Black.
Now replace “black” with “woman” and tell me have you heard these? They did not hire me because I’m a woman. They won’t promote me because I’m a woman. They think I’m female because I’m a woman.
I used to think that some deals of mine were killed because I was black. I realized that it was not because I was black, it was because some people in positions of power did not like me.
Well, I’m back from the San Diego Comic-Con, and if you’ve been reading ComicMix’s coverage, you can probably guess that it was no place to actually write a DVD review column. Get info, acquire more product, see what’s happening, sure, but actually write reviews of other DVD special features? Fergettaboutit.
Between my 8th Annual San Diego Comic Con Superhero Kung-Fu Extravaganza there, which takes up three hours of prime time for a couple thousand hard-core martial art movie fans, and the many DVD companies/people I hobnobbed with, I had no time to tell you that the discs to grab this week are the 300 Special Edition and Hot Fuzz. But I’m hoping you already figured that out.
So too late there. But since I was up to here as the “kung-fu guy” at the con, I can use this space to clue you in on some discs I should’ve mentioned weeks ago, as well as letting a monumental box set being released next week bring other recent travels into pretentious, self-absorbed focus.
First off, head to your sales place of choice and get the Dragon Dynasty editions of The 36th Chamber of Shaolin and My Young Auntie. When I began this column almost three months ago, I promised myself not to inundate you with kung-fu, samurai, or other such Asian titles. But what can I do? I originally discovered these films thirty years ago, because, to my eyes, they were comic book come to life — with actual people doing Daredevilly and Spidermanny things without the benefit of wires or sfx.
Since then, I’ve discovered, through research, that they’re much more than that, yet the original exhilaration I felt is still being revealed to fresh eyes … hopefully like yours. Especially since companies like Dragon Dynasty, controlled by the Weinsteins, are finally revealing the glory of timeless 1970’s classics in a manner befitting their excellence.
Last week at the San Diego Comic-Con I was hosting a forum called “The Black Panel.” The panel was filled with heavy hitters from comics, film, television and animation. At one point during the Q&A a young man asked that more creators recognize and do stories about black atheists. I made a joke that the characters battle cry would be, ‘I don’t believe!’
It got a laugh and I went on to the next person with a question. I happened to look into the young man’s face who asked the atheist question and realized he was not kidding; he was very serious.
I hope that he reads this, or that someone he knows reads this and tells him that I am truly sorry for making light of his belief. I thought he was kidding but the look on his face said otherwise, so in all seriousness I apologize.
That young man has every right to believe what he wants. This brings up an interesting question: Do creators who have a voice in the industry have an obligation to recognize fan beliefs and/or pay attention to them?
My answer with all due respect to the young atheist is no.
I can only speak for myself, but what anyone else believes is not my concern. That said, I do believe that you respect people’s belief.
I’ll say that again so there is no misunderstanding and so I don’t get any nutty comments: I believe that you respect people’s belief.
My former wife had a religious belief that frankly freaked me out. She never tried to convert me and I never tried to talk her out of it. We were two people who met, fell in love and got married. We broke up not because of her beliefs but because I was stupid.
I frankly couldn’t care less what you believe or practice. It’s your right in a free society to do what you want. As long as you do not harm other people or animals you can live in the woods and eat bark for breakfast for all I care. If you want to believe that Richie Rich is the one and only true God then have at it, buddy. What you do with your life is really nobody’s business but yours. How you live, what you think and why you think it is all you, my friend.
The last comic book universe I created was The Guardian Line. A Christian publisher publishes those books and, ironically, we do have a black atheist character. I did not think to mention it at the Black Panel but, yes, we have one. The character is important to a storyline which deals with belief. That storyline makes the point that even if you do not believe in God that you respect each other. I created that character for that story line not because I think black atheists have a right to be represented in The Guardian Line.
Saturday noon, and it still hadn’t arrived. Voldemort’s work? Or the machinations of something a bit more prosaic – book ninjas, maybe, or gremlins? But no. We fretted in vain. At about three, the doorbell rang, and there he was – Mr. Delivery Man, bearing our own copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
(I don’t think a spoiler warning is really necessary at this point – is there anyone who doesn‘t know Harry’s fate? – but what the hell, consider yourself warned.)
Soon, Marifran was in bed, reading – yes – the end of the novel. I asked her if Harry survives and she said that he does. Whew. The next evening, daughter Meg phoned from Seattle. She’s already finished it, all 759 pages. Do all bank vice-presidents spend their weekends reading?
What kind of people are these? What sort of mutated family did I marry into?
Me, I plan to wait for the movie. But I’m glad the book’s doing well. Better that gobs of money go to J.K. Rowling, who comports herself with some dignity, than to yet another deluded, sad young woman who calls attention to her desperate self by displaying what, in gentler times, would be seen only by her mate or her gynecologist.
Of course, not everyone is profiting by Ms. Rowling’s success. Independent bookshops, in order to compete with chains and on-line venues, are selling the book at such steep discounts that their profit is slim to none. And news reports tell us that just because a lot of kids are reading the Potter series doesn’t mean that they’ll read anything else. Apparently, Harry’s sui generis and after Deathly Hallows, it’s back to the tube for many.
But surely some kids will try other printed entertainment, once Harry teaches them that what’s printed can, in fact, be entertaining. Or so those of us who worry about the future of these United States can hope. Al Gore’s new and excellent book, The Assault on Reason (which I recommended last week) tells us that “…the parts of the human brain that are central to the reasoning process are continually activated by the very act of reading printed words…the passivity associated with watching television is at the expense of activity in parts of the brain associated with abstract thought, logic, and the reasoning process…An individual who spends four and a half hours a day watching television is likely to have a very different pattern of brain activity from an individual who spends four and a half hours reading.”
So, my understanding of Mr. Gore is, reading is not virtuous because it’s what grandma and grandpa did for fun, but because it stimulates a part of the brain that may be both underused and useful.
Is Harry Potter our new, albeit fictional, messiah? Well, no. We don’t want to take it that far. But given the current crop of wannabe saviors, we could do worse.
RECOMMENDED READING: Understanding McLuhan, by W. Terrence Gordon, illustrations by Susan Willmarth.
Dennis O’Neil is an award-winning editor and writer of comic books like Batman, The Question, Iron Man, Green Lantern and/or Green Arrow, and The Shadow, as well as all kinds of novels, stories and articles.
Note: All you need to know is that Popeye is back, on DVD, this Tuesday, July 31. If you’re not getting up to go place your order I guess you can continue reading if you want, but that’s all you really need to know. Otherwise, know that —
The modest and self-effacing Jerry Beck has once again returned from animation’s mountaintop with the real deal in the form of [[[Popeye The Sailor, 1933-1938]]]. Sixty cartoons on four discs, plus plenty bonus features, commentary, the works. To the purist, and why be in pop culture if not to root out the impure, these are the only Popeye cartoons worth the name.
Not since their theatrical release, all those decades ago, have people been able to see these works as they were intended to be seen. This of course assumes you are going to show them in a jammed movie palace on Saturday night filled with everyone in your town from eight to eighty who’ve just seen a newsreel starring Mussolini.
I don’t have to tell you that every studio but Disney thought their cartoons were an embarrassing necessity of the business, like Port-o-Sans at Woodstock. Once the studios didn’t need to program short subjects along with their features they dropped them thisquick.
They lived on in fragile prints, before the age of videotape, picking up scratches and noise each time they were put through your local television station’s film chain. When Hanna-Barbera’s half hour shows became widely available in their second run the broadcasters decided to save themselves a few minutes trouble and ditch the short cartoons for the new, half-hour, self contained shows.
It is some testimony to their naïve sense of duty to their customers that most TV stations had one of their employees put on a yachting hat or an engineer’s cap and pretend to be Sailor Sam or Casey Jones for an hour or so to keep the cartoons from bumping into the commercials. The half hour TV era cartoon shows let the stations save the money on the host segments (the host was the least of it; they had to light a set and staff the studio: a couple of cameramen, a floor director, a director and an engineer).
But what we tuned in for were the cartoons. And we could tell the old Hollywood cartoons were the gold standard. First of all, they were obscure. We didn’t get all the jokes, didn’t understand all the references, just like when we observed the grown-ups. There were jokes we got the first time, and we came back because we could instinctively tell from the timing that there were more laughs to be had, and even more precious, insights into the adult world not to be had in any other way.
Olive, for example, at one point sang that she would only consider a “clean shaven man,” a new idea to second grade boys. Bluto’s beard and Popeye’s stubble were random phenomena to us, like rabbits having long ears. We weren’t aware of the idle pleasures of beard husbandry or the agony of a daily shave. But the knowledge of Olive’s preference (and the goddam song) stay with you a lifetime.
Warners and Columbia were glad to get a few bucks for the rights to their now useless films from television distributors in the late 1940s. The ubiquitous a.a.p. company marketed hundreds of cartoons to greedy television stations. These cartoons, made by adults for a general audience, were now thought to be perfect children’s programming. Of course they weren’t. Children loved them, but so did everyone else. Adults didn’t watch them because they were working or grabbing breakfast when the cartoons were on. And the children of the ‘50s dined on a rich diet of adult cartoons, adult comedy shorts and re-runs of even earlier television programs, such as the history of vaudeville and burlesque sketch comedy contained in the Abbot and Costello.
The SDCC panel on the subject featured a couple of guys in the Popeye business today, a darling young couple, in the animation biz, who were, in a stretch of the term, brought together by the one-eyed sailor. There was Jerry Beck to assure us the restoration was every bit as surreal and scarily sharp as the job done on the Looney Tunes sets. And there was Tom Hatten.
If you haven’t gotten the idea yet, I love the now almost entirely gone, once ubiquitous children’s television hosts. Sometimes incredibly gifted, gravitating to the major markets, sometimes Krusty on a Krutch, stuck inside of Springfield.
Tom Hatten was Popeye’s man in Los Angeles and so, even though I’d never before laid eyes on the man, I can vouch for his talent and love for his craft. Part of the job was doing personal appearances around town. If it was anything like the one’s I went to in Cleveland, Ohio (Jungle Larry) and on Long Island (Soupy Sales) they were probably mob scenes. Though not an animator, he had to draw sketches of the Popeye characters by the countless dozens.
I had to ask Hatten if he was aware of [[[The Simpson’s]]] Krusty the Clown, and whether he found him funny. To my surprise, and sort of admiration, he said he found the limited, stylized animation so off-putting he can’t watch it. He also singled out [[[Bullwinkle]]] for inclusion in that category. So he didn’t know or wouldn’t say if he found insight or insult in their rendering of his professional fellows.
They played one of the documentary features, on the several people who’ve been the voice of Popeye, including, what I would call a surprise, even for San Diego, that Mae Questel, the voice of Olive Oyl, did a stint as Popeye, too, and was maybe second to the great Jack Mercer. Mercer brought the character to life with his inspired ad lib comments, rising to brilliance when he would contribute scat fills between the phrases when Popeye would sing a song.
The set is peerless entertainment, higher education and made by my good friend Jerry Beck, whose web site, Cartoonbrew.com is a must visit for all cartoon freaks everywhere. But don’t worry about some buddy-buddy thing going on here. If you like Popeye, if you miss those great black and white cartoons (and the couple of color shorts they did) this is for you. I’ll be the guy ahead of you in line Tuesday morning. Just don’t blow me down.
Popeye the Sailor: 1933-1938, Vol. 1; Warner Home Video.
I hate to see stereotypical images of black people, like the thug with the gold teeth who speaks in horrible English:
I was on the way to the crib, you knows wha I’m sayin? When I gots dare tis ho wanted to hang out, you know what I’m saying? You know what I’m saying? You know what I’m saying?
No, I don’t know what you’re saying. Nobody knows what you are saying.
I hate to see large black women with little itty-bitty short skirts and 10 inch nails that hook at the end. I hate to see black men grab their crouches. I hate to see black kids with their pants down to their ankles.
Here’s the thing: these are not stereotypes. I know black people like that. I’m sure you know black people like that, or at least you have seen black people like that.
Hey! Keep your hands away from the “comment” button! I’m about to make a point!
Yes, there are black people who act in the ways I mentioned above. There are also lazy black people, black people who love watermelon, black men who love white women, black men with really large (insert word here) and, yes, there are loud angry black women.
These types of black people do exist. I can’t stand most of that behavior, although I have eaten my share of watermelon and dated my share of white women. I have been lazy; when I was a kid I grabbed my crouch. Lastly, I have said, You know what I’m saying?
You know what I’m saying?
None of the above acts makes up a stereotype. I have seen black people engage in every one of those acts. I myself have engaged in a few.
They become stereotypes when you assume every black person acts in such a manner all the time.
That is just crazy.
To assume that all black people behave like this is simply freakin RIDICULOUS! To think that any race of people behaves in one way as a whole is just madness.
Every race of people has its share of people who are, let’s say “undesirable.” Black people have “niggers,” white people have “white trash,” Latinos have “spics,” Asians have “chinks.” You name the race I’ll tell the stereotypical name.
I suppose I could have titled this pre-San Diego Comic Con installment “Popeye Hustle,” but I think that would’ve given the improper connotation. The new four-DVD boxed set from Warner – Popeye the Sailor 1933-1938 – (available July 31st) is anything but a hustle. And, in fact, the present column title is all the more apt because there’s some of the best kung-fu I’ve seen recently within these first sixty Popeye cartoons.
“Kung Fu” actually means “hard work,” not “martial arts,” but there’s a lot of both on display here – from the labor the Max (and Dave) Fleischer Studios lavished on these cartoons to the more than ample martial arts expended by the Sailor Man and all his antagonists (especially Bluto) in every minute of these more than three hundred and sixty animated minutes.
I say “more than,” because, in addition to the dozens of remastered black & white original cartoons, the set also includes two of the justifiably famous “two-reel” color mini-movies: Popeye the Sailor Meets Sindbad (sic) the Sailor, and Popeye the Sailor Meets Ali Baba’s Forty Thieves. If the Fleischer Studios had only made a feature length Popeye (as well as a feature version of their beautifully made Superman cartoons), they might have remained as eminent as the Disney Studio.
But this handsome, reverent, and exhilarating set will hopefully go a long way to returning them to their rightful pantheon, despite the hundreds of inferior Popeye cartoons made by other studios since 1941. These almost pristine (the remastering process retains the rough edges of the cartoons as they were originally released) nuggets of aggressive mayhem are a welcome blast of fresh air in the fog of politically correct nonsense, which elicits waves of nostalgic pleasure with each spinach swallow and successive bout of frenzied fisticuffs.
Popeye’s legendary theme song, and oft-repeated quotes of “I yam what I yam,” and “that’s all I can stand, I can’t stand no mores,” clearly marks him as an inspiration for Bugs Bunny’s later feistiness (not to mention “this calls for a little stragedy,” and “don’t go up dere, it’s dark”) — and the set’s extras make that ultra clear. To say that there’s a wealth of featurettes and pleasant surprises is putting it mildly. Each disc has at least two engrossing docs detailing Popeye’s (and animation’s) extraordinary history, voices, music, and characters, as well as audio commentaries and mini-docs that they call “Popumentaries.”
The icing on the cake are a whole bunch of other Fleischer Studio cartoons “From the Vaults” – that is, the era before the 1930s, when cartoons were just starting and fascination, if not delight, could be found in inventive silence. At first these ancient animations seem too crude to be bothered with, but watching the just-drawn likes of Koko the Clown dealing with an animated “live-action” fly soon leads to many minutes of amazed viewing. (more…)
It’s about time I got around to Tartan – specifically Tartan Asia Extreme, since they’ve been inundating the DVD market with every Japanese, Chinese, Korean, and Thai “horror” movie they can get their well-manicured hands on. I put horror in quotes, because, in reality, many of their releases are actually episodes of The Twilight Zone and Tales from the Crypt with delusions of cinematic grandeur – essentially familiar ghost revenge sagas pumped and/or padded to feature length. I also say “well-manicured,” because, whatever the overall quality of the film they’re presenting, Tartan’s packaging is uniformly classy.
On the one hand, if you’ve yet to have Tartan’s special editions of South Korean director Park Chan-wook’s “Vengeance” trilogy (Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, and Old Boy), acquire them with all speed (and watch them in the aforementioned order, despite their actual release dates). On the other hand, I showed eighteen hours of Tartan’s other Asia Extreme releases at last year’s World Science Fiction Convention and didn’t see a single film that rated above “okay.”
So warned, let’s judge some of their latest releases from the special features perspective. First, there’s Dorm, a Thai award winner that strives to be like Guillermo del Toro’s The Devil’s Backbone. Both concern what happens to a young man in a creepy private school, and while del Toro connects the ghosts to the Spanish Civil War, director Songyos Sugmakanan weaves it within the universal loneliness of an outcast new student. It’s a well-made mood piece more than anything else, and a fine one, but, as previously mentioned, it would have been well-served as a ninety minute (or less) chiller, rather than the 110 minute saga it is.
Tartan attaches an interesting audio commentary with Songyos and some of his cast, in addition to a “making of” (which is really a ten minute on-set home movie of the complications that come of making a film with a pre-teen cast), a “behind the scenes” (which are actually a bunch of short prevue pieces detailing the cast and plot), fittingly eerie deleted scenes, a special effect featurette, and a welcome “character introduction,” which is like a visual program book. All in all, it’s a satisfying job. (more…)
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