Is Kick-Ass Gonna Kick Ass?

Kick-Ass, inspired by the comic book Kick-Ass, is coming soon to a theater near you, but the movie has already attracted international attention, i.e. this article from The Guardian. The interview with writer Mike Millar poses an interesting question regarding the comics-to-film phenomenon: Should comics be written with the intent of cinematic adaptation? Of course, every writer wants to establish a franchise viable for cinema and cash in accordingly, but what does this make the comic medium other than a glorified storyboard? As a comic book fan first, I take issue (no pun intended) with this mentality; consider the following excerpt from Millar's interview:

"The trouble is that the superhero movies so far – and I don't want to be unfair to them because I think generally they have been good – have been made two generations after they've been created, and in Superman's case three generations after they've been created. So if the technology had existed to make a Fantastic Four movie in 1966 it would have been amazing, because you had Kennedy and the space race and all of that. But now, really, what is the Fantastic Four?"

The implication is, cinematic adaptation asserts viability, and without it, the Fantastic Four is . . . well, nothing more than a comic book, right? The elephant in the room is, forty years later, Marvel's founding family is still worthy of at least two feature films -- whether or not they were good is relative to Hollywood's desire to produce them. These characters are still worthy of attention. Will Kick-Ass be as viable 40 years from now? No, perhaps Millar realizes, now is the time to act, lest his creation fall by the wayside of pop culture. After all, comic book movies produced in conjunction with a new, monthly comic book have always paved the road to success in both industries . . .

. . . right, Todd McFarlane? Right, Frank Miller?

Casting Captain American

It's official: The Human Torch is Captain America, and it made Yahoo's front page this morning. I'm excited about the casting choice, but now the question remains -- Who will play the Human Torch in the inevitable Fantastic Four relaunch?

I know, I know -- one big shoe at a time.

A Quick Conversation . . .

. . . with my friend Nathan this afternoon.

ME: This is silly. The guy that played the Human Torch in the Fantastic Four movies might play Captain America, too.

NATE: So?

ME: What if Marvel can ever have the two characters meet on film?

NATE: What if they do?

ME: Played by the same guy? That would be ridiculous!

NATE: Eddie Murphy talks to himself in movies all the time! And in this case, one character is wearing a mask, and the other is on fire!

ME: . . . Point taken.

Fantastic Four Klik Candy Dispensers

Here we go again.

Today A Comic A Day begins its third incarnation, as a study of comics' influence on every day life. Fortunately for me, the blundering blogger responsible for this mess, that direction is open interpretation, from the way comics shape pop culture, to the comics I'm reading on any given day, to the comics-inspired merchandise one might find just shopping at the 99 Cents Store -- like these Fantastic Four Klik candy dispensers. If you look hard enough, surely you can find a comic a day.

BONUS MINI-REVIEW!

"Tall Tale" by Paul Pope, colored by Lee Loughridge, lettered by Clem Robins
originally published in Weird Western Tales #1, Vertigo/DC Comics

Keen comic book enthusiasts might appreciate my using the Fantastic Four (albeit in candy dispenser form) in a new year's inaugural post, since they're often dubbed the first family of funnybooks and in fact launched the brand we know today as Marvel Comics. Similarly, this weird western short by Paul Pope explores the origins of heroes as a whole, but in a genre we often underestimate as the beginning of such things. The first few panels in this eight-page yarn explain that tall tales about Paul Bunyon and John Henry were the first superhero stories, and their compilation in spaghetti western pulp magazines, the ancestor of the comic book.

Now, when a drunken sop decides to call out a homely bartender he believes to be Wild Bill Hickok . . .



He discovers that some tall tales have pretty short fuses.



Paul Pope's style befits a short, weird western tale like this, and his premise that folks in the Old West were just as mystified as these tales then as we are now is a great way to breach the proverbial fourth wall . . . and make a simple Bronze Age title relaunch amazingly relevant.

One can only hope it's as effective with a certain blog. Giddy up!

The Fourth Day of Comic-mas: The Fantastic Four Calling

Now that we know how the Punisher's Christmas went (in a word, badly), how does the rest of the Marvel Universe celebrate this merriest of holidays? Well, if the 2005 Marvel Holiday Special is any indication, they celebrate it together; after all, before any civil wars or Skrull invasions, the Marvel Universe began with a family, the Fantastic Four. Appropriately, the Storms star in two of the three tales in this issue, sandwiching a New Avengers story that boasts more heart than necessary. But every issue begins with its cover, and I just have to say . . .

Stuart Immonen offers a crisp, festive image of Spider-man and the Fantastic Four decorating a Christmas tree, the Thing hoisting it up, and Reed stretching to its top with a luminous star . . . but Johnny is garnishing the shrub with . . . flame? Uhm, most folks do their darnedest to avoid setting their trees on fire! His sister is adorning the branches with . . . invisible ornaments? Er, sure -- the next time I bring a tree home, I'm going to leave it be and tell everyone to enjoy my decor courtesy the Baxter building. Of course, Spidey is stringing up with patented web-balls (oh, grow up people), which is fine considering the source, but generally a web-covered tree isn't one you want, unless the nursery offers a pre-purchase bug extermination. So, long story short, while the illustration definitely captures the Christmas spirit, it practices very little practicality. Of course, superheroes are used to crises, so what's a scorched tree compared to, say, a city-wide Santa-napping epidemic?

Such is the plight of Marvel's first family, as the Mole Man's Moloids kidnap mall Santas around the city in an attempt to find their missing master, who uttered St. Nick's name before his sudden disappearance. While Reed, Sue, and Johnny are content tracking down the Moloids' lair for a good old fashioned Christmas clobbering, Ben embraces the spirit of the season and pursues a more civil solution. His detective work uncovers the Mole Man's grandmother, who reveals that the villain's grandfather dressed as Santa during the holidays -- a grandfather with distinctly arched, Namor-like eyebrows. The Thing recruits the sea king to help him appease the Moloids, assuring peace on earth for all above and below the earth . . . but what of Mole Man himself? The catalyst of this tale rests on a splash page gag that fell flat with me, since Christmas comics are usually throw-away one-shots anyway.

The following story, a New Avengers story, embodies the other side of that coin, as a wayward Stark Industries scientist uses an old Ultron husk to create a real-life Santa -- a Santron -- with dangerous results. Before the fight before Christmas, the Avengers banter with ongoing gags about kissing Spider-Woman under the mistletoe and refusing B-listers like Gravity their invitation to the party, then Santron comes down the chimney. Spidey and Ant-Man concoct an awesome scheme to trick the Kringle-bot into submission, and its memory banks reveal its creator -- enter the overwhelming, unnecessary holiday-infused origin, in which that Stark scientist scorns Santa's falsehood and invests her own tangible alternative. What the story took a page to explore, a single caption of emotional inner monologue would've accomplished just as effectively. Ah, well, if the holidays are about anything else, it's overindulgence.

Which explains the third story, which uses a more traditional storytelling technique, namely the rhyming scheme of a carol or nursery rhyme, to tell the same tale we'd just read two times already -- the villainous act justified by the holiday spirit, thus excused by the superheroes that made everything okay. In this case, the Fantastic Four thwart their old, presumably reformed foe the Hurricane in the midst of his stealing toys for his poor kids; again, the Thing asserts compassion, but the tale makes little effort to offer that any of the heroes actually compensated the store for the few items that caught the eye of the Hurricane. Now, that's one way to beat the Black Friday crowd: just break in to your local department store on Christmas Eve!

Of course, these criticisms are intended with as much good humor as these yarns themselves; watching our favorite superheroes celebrate the holidays humanizes these icons. Whereas we geeks fantasize what it's like to be like them, in this case we get to watch them act like us, stressed about shopping and Christmas parties, frustrated by the plights of those less fortunate, generally wishing the best tidings for all around us. If only everyone had family that could make themselves invisible from time to time . . .!

Marvel Holiday Special #7 was published for February 2006 by Marvel Comics and is by Mike Carey, Mike Perkins, Laura Martin, Dave Lanphear, Jeff Parker, Reilly Brown, Pat Davidson, Christina Strain, Shaenon Garrity, Roger Langridge, Al Gordon, and Sotocolor's J. Brown.