Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Wait a Second...! (Human Target Shoots the Shark)

I was psyched to learn that Fox started making this show, Human Target, which is based on a comic book. Sign me up.

So I started watching it.  The show has its moments: stuff gets blown up, people fall off of buildings, Chi McBride is sarcastic, what's-his-face shoots stuff.  All the kind of stuff that makes me happy.

And then I read the DC comic based on the show.  (...based on a comic...it's an infinite regress, I know.)  Whatever, it's fun.  Stuff blows up, people get saved, bad guys get shot.  In the head.

Wait a minute.  Something just clicked.

People get shot?  Oh, yeah.  That does happen on the show now that I think about it.

But what did whats-his-face say in the Pilot episode?

"Nobody deserves to die."  Except for bad guys, that is.

It logically follows that bad guys aren't nobody.  Hooray for them!  Syllogisms for the win!

Somewhere, Marlon Brando is smiling.  You are somebody, Marlon.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The Purpose of Comics, or, Why Grant Morrison Doesn't Write Comics Part I

Okay, I just started reading Final Crisis.  I had been putting it off forever because one of my favorite heroes (The Martian Manhunter) gets killed off.  Well, the guy (or gal) that had it before me at the library FINALLY returned it (after months) and now I'm in the midst of reading it.

Now, I've never been a fan of Grant Morrison, or Morrison-esque "stories," but, despite the fact that there are parts of Final Crisis that makes me want to throw the book against the wall, on the whole it's not that bad.  (So far.)  But it only affirmed what I had previously thought: Grant Morrison does not write comics.

Being true to my philosophical roots, I'm going to start my argument at the very beginning, just like Renee Descartes, and build everything back up from there.  And because it's my blog, I'm going to define the premises of the argument how I want so that I can win the argument.  It's an old philosopher's trick.  Hey, I might as well be honest.

Here we go.

Let's define comics first.  Because why bother arguing about anything if we don't know exactly what we're talking about?

I'm going to define comics as visual stories.  That makes them fiction, and that makes them logically equivalent to novels, short stories, movies, sitcoms and TV dramas.

Okay, then.  What's fiction?  A dictionary definition basically says fiction is something made up by someone.  It's a deficient definition, because then we'd have to count daydreams, jokes, and lies as fiction.So, let's say that fiction is something made up intentionally, and for a specific purpose.

So why do we seek out stories?  Or, what's the point of reading comics?

I think the majority of comics readers read for entertainment, and probably the same can be said for novels and movies.  Other reasons for creating fiction might be: to inform, to propose ideas (science fiction does this), to share's one's life experiences, to create a puzzle for the reader to solve (mystery and detective stories), to find meaning, to make money, and so forth.  I'm going to go with entertainment as the main reason.

But that covers all comics, the good, the bad, and the average.  What about the really good ones?  The stories that you really liked?  The ones that made you think, or made you look at a character differently, or awakened some sort of insight in you?  Why do fans rave about certain stories and hate others?  There's an emotional compenent to all this raving: a reader just knows they like a certain story, on a very fundamental and primal level.  Something clicks, and we might not be able to put our finger on it, but we know we like it and move on to the next thing (except nutcases like me who spend hours trying to figure out why).  We also know we don't like something, and because comics is a unique medium which has 70+ years of backstory to build on, there are a lot of variables to consider.

To make this easier, let's look at why a reader doesn't like a story.  Here's a few reasons that spring to mind:

1.  The characters were written "out of character."
2.  The plot was poor: the storyline lead to a weak conclusion, nothing happens, or it was otherwise confusing, derivative, or lazily-written.
3.  The story wasn't about anything, it had no "heart" or premise, or fails to express any good ideas.
4.  The art was poor.
5.  Continuity mistakes were made.

I'm going to knock out 3 and 4, because art isn't the fault of the author, and 4 is just another way to say "plot hole."  So we're down to 1, 2, and 3: Character, Plot, and Story, the foundation of all fiction.  1 and 2 are the technical components of fiction: how the story is told.  3 is the why, and is much more elusive.  To draw an analogy to music, 1 and 2 are like good vocal training, they allow you to express yourself, and 3 is the what that you are singing about, be it love, zombies wanting to eat your brains, or finding out your sailor boyfriend came back from America with a wife after he promised himself to you.  (Flash Fact: that's from Madame Butterfly.  Not the zombie part, that is.)  It is this what, or story content, that makes a story about something and gives it meaning: it is what the author is telling you for whatever reason: humor, enlightenment, intellectualism or whatnot, and this is drawn from an author's personal experiences, imagination, and worldview.

From this standpoint of communicating and expressing something to an audience, we can say that an author is connecting to the reader on some level.  We've already seen that that tether to the reader is an emotional one, and I don't mean emotional as in "this story made me cry," I mean emotion as in, "I don't have to think about whether I this story sucks, I just feel it."

This visceral connection to a story is a primal one.  People have been telling stories to each other for thousands of years, and some of these stories, like Gilgamesh and The Odyessy, are still around.  Fiction tells a universal "Truth," and this is how the author connects with us and how we identify with the author.  How often have you laughed at a funny story and said, "It's funny because it's true!"?  There's a truth behind good stories, and we know when an author gets it right and when an author gets it wrong.  Just like when an author draws a person out of proportion, we know when we're being told a story that doesn't ring true.  We seek out stories which speak this truth about humanity to us: be it humor, tragedy, irony, imagination, mystery/the desire to know, bravery, vengeance, justice, and so on, in an effort to better understand ourselves, to be entertained, to laugh, to find meaning, to expand our minds, and to identify with others and become a part of a collective whole via a shared experience (i.e. Humanity, or, Comic Book Fans).  It's that last one that's the most powerful, I think.

To recap: Comics are stories, which means they're fiction, which are created by an author to satisfy a certain purpose, which communicate meaning via character and plot, and which express a universal Truth about mankind's shared experience.

In Part II, we'll examine why some stories fail and why some don't.

If you've stuck around this far, you get a prize.

Enjoy this video of dancing squirrels:

Friday, February 12, 2010

Happy Valentine's Day...or something.

Okay, I don't really like Valentine's Day.  But two recent Valentine's Day-themed posts at One True GL and the Hoosier Journal of Inanity inspired me to post a picture of my favorite DC couple.

So, here you go, Adam Strange and his Rannian girlfriend Alanna, greeting each other after Adam is finally Zeta-beamed back to Rann:

Awwz!

Considering that Adam gets Zeta-beamed to Rann from Earth about every month or so, that's a lot of seconds.  Or maybe he's just exaggerating for dramatic effect.  I tend to take people literally.

(From Mystery in Space #63.)

Thursday, February 11, 2010

I Readed A Book! (Review of Huntress: Cry for Blood)

Huntress: Cry for Blood
Story by Greg Rucka
Pencils by Rick Burchett
Inks by Rick Burchett and Terry Beatty (issues #5 and #6)


Short Synopsis:  After being framed for murder, Huntress must prove her innocence.  After meeting The Question, we learn her story as the only surviving family member of a mafia hit.

The Bottom Line:  A character-driven drama with noirish elements and a well-plotted story line, written on one of Rucka's good days and with great art, to boot.  Read it!

Why It's Good:  The comics medium, by its very nature, doesn't lend itself well to stories about moral choices and character change.  After all, if a character keeps changing over his or her decades-long history, are we going to recognize them anymore?  This works, though, for certain characters, and for flashback stories for popular, well-established characters.

The Huntress herself is a character in constant internal conflict, always straddling the line between Justice and Vengeance.  When it comes to her family history, that line, in her mind, gets a little blurred.  Fortunately, Huntress never lets this conflict devolve into an angsty angry-at-her-life attitude.  Instead, she's out for blood.

Our story starts with the murder of two mafiosos who have each been killed with an arrow from Huntress's crossbow.  The media, the police, and even Batman and Family suspect she's guilty.  Just when it seems like she's got no one to turn to, she nearly runs over The Question one night, and after some sparring, he absconds with her to his Super Secret Zen Hideout, where he and Richard Dragon give her a new outlook on life.

Helena, about to tell Vic her story

The story's a weighty one, heavy on backstory, and with clear-cut stakes for both Huntress and The Question.  For Helena, she must not only clear her name, but choose who she ultimately is: an agent of revenge struggling away from a broken past, or someone "better" than that who upholds the law.  The Question hopes Helena will put his wisdom into action after investing his time in taking her under his wing, plus there's the possiblity of a romantic relationship.  I'm not going to give away the ending, but it's a good one.

Granted I haven't read too many Huntress comics (but I've read quite a bit of The Question), but I feel Rucka is on his game when it comes to characterization.  I secretly suspect Rucka is Italian, because he writes them so well.  (They are also drawn very believably by Burchett.)  Rucka handles The Question quite well, too, and I really like seeing Vic as the good-hearted Sensei To The Superheroes and in a lighter mood than his Denny O'Neill days.  I wish Vic would come along more often and set people straight.  (Oh, wait, he can't.  He's dead.)  Rucka balances the Zen insight with the sarcasm quite well, too.  (The latter being, of course, Vic Sage's one superpower.)

The Art:  I really enjoyed the art.  It's quite different from today's comic art: very "2D" with little shading, and the characters' expressions are very slightly caricatures while at the same time preserving realism.  His figures are realistic: no over-roided guys or DDD-busted girls here.  There's a great efficiency of line and cleanliness to the style and inking that you don't see today unless you crack open a Johnny DC title.  It's a nice, refreshing break from the complicated, fantasized, hyper-reality of comics art today.

Not only that, but Burchett draws Vic Sage really well.  Vic is a real character, and that should show on his face, and Burchett thankfully doesn't hold back on the smug little expressions that only Vic Sage is capable of.  Compare and Contrast time!

Vic channeling the Great James Cagney?

A more recent appearance of Vic.  (Oh wait.  "Charlie."):

Mr. Generic

Not to mention, there's all sorts of great little visual details, like Vic punching a soda machine.  If anyone gets to punch a vending machine in the DC Universe, it's Vic Sage.

Oh, yeah, and Batman shows up.  And Vic gives him some lip.  That's always amusing.

Batman: Mr. Grumpy Gills

The only downside to the story is that it's rather complicated to keep all the mafiosos and who-did-what and who's-related-to-whom straight.  But I wouldn't let that detract from a very enjoyable story.

It's a shame it's not in print anymore--hopefully it'll be reprinted soon.  But I urge you to look for it and read it, if you haven't already.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Adam Strange...

....is the nicest guy in the DC Universe.

1959: When strange men could buy little boys ice cream with impunity.

Honestly, what other superhero would buy a complete stranger ice cream?  Batman?  Yeah, didn't think so.

(From Mystery in Space #53)

Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Fine Line Between Homage and "Just Plain Ripping Off"

Always one to be interested in art, this caught my eye over at ComicVine:

Comic Covers "Swiped" From Fine Art

...which presents a list of five comic covers inspired by famous works of art.  (Which I am happy to say, I guessed all of them correctly.  Who-hoo!! (Can't you tell I was the "me me me! pick me! I know I know!!!" kid who always sat at the front of the class?)

*insert cool segue here!*

"Ripping off" from fine art would only bother me if a.) the intended audience thought it was the comic artist's original idea, and b.) if an idea was overused.  The author of the article left out a glaring admission (perhaps becuase his list skewed Marvel): The Pietá.  While not fine art (it's sculpture, but it's still classic art.)  And it's been referenced inside comics more than on covers.  But it's been done a lot.  Pretty much any time someone dies in the DC Unviverse, except Barry Allen.

Here's the first appearance of comic art referencing The Pietá that I can think of:


And just for comparison's sake, Michelangelo's original:



Can you think of any other references?