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?
Showing posts with label Frank Miller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frank Miller. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Happy Birthday, Marvel!
On Tuesday night, comic book shops across the country celebrating Marvel Comics' 70th anniversary with special after-hours sales and events, and I went to two stores in Orange County that celebrated the House of Ideas, and although I passed on the much hyped The Marvels Project #1, I did acquire some completely affordable back issues of X-Statics. To celebrate Marvel's birthday, I've decided to list my top seven most personal, memorable Marvel moments. Disclaimer: The comics on this list aren't necessarily my favorite singular Marvel issues, but they are attached to memories that have enabled me to treasure comics in the mighty Marvel manner today!
7. Daredevil: Born Again. Before he redefined Batman with the beloved The Dark Knight Returns, Frank Miller deconstructed the Man Without Fear in the Daredevil story arc "Born Again." I read this arc as a whole, collected in trade paperback, and was most impressed with Miller's ability to strip away everything we know of Matt Murdock, from his position as a lawyer, to his friendships, to the very Daredevil costume, yet expose and retain what makes the character relevant to readers and the Marvel Universe as a whole. It truly takes a man without fear to see his life destroyed and still find a way to save the day and win the girl.
6. The Punisher: Welcome Back, Frank. I was a fast fan of the Garth Ennis/Steve Dillon collaboration thanks to their work on Preacher, so picking up this Punisher relaunch via trade paperback was a no-brainer. I'll be honest; I wasn't overwhelmed with the story. Sure, the action was fast-paced, and the characters were true to the original spirit of Punisher comics, but the complexity I'd anticipated from the context of Preacher wasn't there -- until the last page. A ragtag group of Punisher wanna-be's catch up with Frank, ask him if he'd like to join their crusade, if a team of gun-toting vigilantes eradicating crime is what the Punisher has always wanted . . . and, gun firing, Punisher replies, "No." The importance is two-fold: Frank prefers to work alone, and perhaps without his war on crime, he'd have no reason to live at all. So why would he really want it to end?
5. The Secret Wars Tower of Doom Playset. I only had eight Secret Wars action figures as a kid, and I certainly didn't know they were attached to a multi-issue comic book epic, but before I enjoyed their adventures on the printed page, Captain America, Spider-man, Iron Man, and Wolverine were my Avengers that battled the likes of Dr. Doom, Magneto, Dr. Octopus, and Kang on the Tower of Doom playset in the living room. That playset had so many cool features, from the elevator to the secret war room, from the jail cell to the hidden compartment . . . I can really go on, but trust me. No five-inch plastic bad guy could ask for a better hideout.
4. Iron Man. By far, my favorite comic book movie to date. Yes, better than Dark Knight. Iron Man simply has it all: action, comedy, romance, significant character development, and two things Dark Knight just didn't have: the staging of a world bigger than its characters, and the upbeat wonder that superheroes should inspire. Think about it. At the end of Dark Knight, Batman is public enemy number one, which is certainly dynamic in its own right, but if he's content to let the people in his world think he's a murderer, what of us? At the end of Iron Man, Tony Stark lifts the curtain. "I'm a superhero, and it's awesome." As a kid, whose boots would you have preferred to fill?
3. The Incredible Hulk #372-#377. Writer Peter David culminates years' worth of subplots in this Hulk story arc that ended up defining the character for decades to follow. Simply put, Doc Samson puts Bruce Banner in a hypnotic trance to confront his inner Hulk selves, and in the end his mind merges with the green and gray Hulk personalities to create "the Professor," a quickly enraged but analytically thinking green goliath. While the emotional subtext of this story was heavier than most comics usually allow, I was particularly moved by #372, in which Betty and Bruce reunite. That last page, where they embrace, is -- pardon the Hulk pun -- smashing.
2. Bret Blevins' Cloak & Dagger Sketch. My girlfriend at the time and I were simply strolling down the main street in Prescott, Arizona, when we went into an artists' gallery on whim and I surprisingly spotted paintings by Bret Blevins, who, among other things, had illustrated two of my favorite Marvel titles, Cloak & Dagger and Sleepwalker. The caretaker of the co-op said that Bret would be in the next day, and sure enough I had the pleasure of meeting him and soliciting a free Cloak and Dagger sketch. I treasure the memory and this sketch almost as much as Bret was totally hospitable and kind -- which is to say, completely.
1. Amazing Spider-man #347. I've told the story before, essentially my origin story as a collector, but I'll summarize it again here. When I was about 10 years old, my dad worked for a moving company, and one of his customers offered him a small box of comics. One fateful Saturday morning, Dad left the box at the foot of my bed, and in it I discovered the beginning of Peter David's run on The Incredible Hulk, Strange Tales volume 2 (starring Cloak and Dagger), and bunch of other titles I still collect to this day . . . but the issue on the top won me over completely. Venom holding Spider-man's skull like Hamlet in the graveyard, and the eerie island chase that ensued within the issue, masterfully choreographed by Erik Larsen . . . it changed the way I look at comics. It gave new ideas about how to tell a story through a cooperative relationship between words and pictures . . .
Which is why Marvel has earned its self-proclaimed title as the House of Ideas lo these 70 years. Marvel Comics have simply inspired countless others to pursue ideas of their own. It's their birthday, but they're the gift that keeps on giving. Happy Birthday, Marvel!
7. Daredevil: Born Again. Before he redefined Batman with the beloved The Dark Knight Returns, Frank Miller deconstructed the Man Without Fear in the Daredevil story arc "Born Again." I read this arc as a whole, collected in trade paperback, and was most impressed with Miller's ability to strip away everything we know of Matt Murdock, from his position as a lawyer, to his friendships, to the very Daredevil costume, yet expose and retain what makes the character relevant to readers and the Marvel Universe as a whole. It truly takes a man without fear to see his life destroyed and still find a way to save the day and win the girl.
6. The Punisher: Welcome Back, Frank. I was a fast fan of the Garth Ennis/Steve Dillon collaboration thanks to their work on Preacher, so picking up this Punisher relaunch via trade paperback was a no-brainer. I'll be honest; I wasn't overwhelmed with the story. Sure, the action was fast-paced, and the characters were true to the original spirit of Punisher comics, but the complexity I'd anticipated from the context of Preacher wasn't there -- until the last page. A ragtag group of Punisher wanna-be's catch up with Frank, ask him if he'd like to join their crusade, if a team of gun-toting vigilantes eradicating crime is what the Punisher has always wanted . . . and, gun firing, Punisher replies, "No." The importance is two-fold: Frank prefers to work alone, and perhaps without his war on crime, he'd have no reason to live at all. So why would he really want it to end?
5. The Secret Wars Tower of Doom Playset. I only had eight Secret Wars action figures as a kid, and I certainly didn't know they were attached to a multi-issue comic book epic, but before I enjoyed their adventures on the printed page, Captain America, Spider-man, Iron Man, and Wolverine were my Avengers that battled the likes of Dr. Doom, Magneto, Dr. Octopus, and Kang on the Tower of Doom playset in the living room. That playset had so many cool features, from the elevator to the secret war room, from the jail cell to the hidden compartment . . . I can really go on, but trust me. No five-inch plastic bad guy could ask for a better hideout.
4. Iron Man. By far, my favorite comic book movie to date. Yes, better than Dark Knight. Iron Man simply has it all: action, comedy, romance, significant character development, and two things Dark Knight just didn't have: the staging of a world bigger than its characters, and the upbeat wonder that superheroes should inspire. Think about it. At the end of Dark Knight, Batman is public enemy number one, which is certainly dynamic in its own right, but if he's content to let the people in his world think he's a murderer, what of us? At the end of Iron Man, Tony Stark lifts the curtain. "I'm a superhero, and it's awesome." As a kid, whose boots would you have preferred to fill?
3. The Incredible Hulk #372-#377. Writer Peter David culminates years' worth of subplots in this Hulk story arc that ended up defining the character for decades to follow. Simply put, Doc Samson puts Bruce Banner in a hypnotic trance to confront his inner Hulk selves, and in the end his mind merges with the green and gray Hulk personalities to create "the Professor," a quickly enraged but analytically thinking green goliath. While the emotional subtext of this story was heavier than most comics usually allow, I was particularly moved by #372, in which Betty and Bruce reunite. That last page, where they embrace, is -- pardon the Hulk pun -- smashing.
2. Bret Blevins' Cloak & Dagger Sketch. My girlfriend at the time and I were simply strolling down the main street in Prescott, Arizona, when we went into an artists' gallery on whim and I surprisingly spotted paintings by Bret Blevins, who, among other things, had illustrated two of my favorite Marvel titles, Cloak & Dagger and Sleepwalker. The caretaker of the co-op said that Bret would be in the next day, and sure enough I had the pleasure of meeting him and soliciting a free Cloak and Dagger sketch. I treasure the memory and this sketch almost as much as Bret was totally hospitable and kind -- which is to say, completely.
1. Amazing Spider-man #347. I've told the story before, essentially my origin story as a collector, but I'll summarize it again here. When I was about 10 years old, my dad worked for a moving company, and one of his customers offered him a small box of comics. One fateful Saturday morning, Dad left the box at the foot of my bed, and in it I discovered the beginning of Peter David's run on The Incredible Hulk, Strange Tales volume 2 (starring Cloak and Dagger), and bunch of other titles I still collect to this day . . . but the issue on the top won me over completely. Venom holding Spider-man's skull like Hamlet in the graveyard, and the eerie island chase that ensued within the issue, masterfully choreographed by Erik Larsen . . . it changed the way I look at comics. It gave new ideas about how to tell a story through a cooperative relationship between words and pictures . . .
Which is why Marvel has earned its self-proclaimed title as the House of Ideas lo these 70 years. Marvel Comics have simply inspired countless others to pursue ideas of their own. It's their birthday, but they're the gift that keeps on giving. Happy Birthday, Marvel!
Friday, March 07, 2008
All-Star Batman & Robin, the Boy Wonder #9
All-Star Batman & Robin, the Boy Wonder #9, April 2008, DC Comics
writer: Frank Miller
penciller: Jim Lee
inker: Scott Williams
colorist: Alex Sinclair
letterer: Jared K. Fletcher
assistant editor: Brandon Montclair
editor: Bob Shreck
Blogger's note: Entry for Thursday, March 6, 2008.
I’ve been on the fence about reviewing All-Star Batman & Robin, the Boy Wonder #9, just as I’ve been on the fence about whether or not I’ve enjoyed this series thus far. Well, I must be enjoying it, because I’ve faithfully bought every issue, though I’d be lying if I said each purchase was without hesitation. I’ve finally begun to understand the method to writer Frank Miller’s madness; his success with 1986’s The Dark Knight Returns hinged on his presenting the caped crusader in a way previously unimagined. Then, decades later, when his impression of Batman saturated every facet of the character and he had the chance to revisit the Dark Knight, he abandoned his previous conventions, including DKR’s distinctive sixteen-panel page layouts, for a more pervasive perspective, incorporating many of DC’s enduring heroes and villains. Miller’s subtle political commentary became blatant satire and his art style became more erratic (“with all the confidence of an arrogant teenager,” to paraphrase a review I’ve read), but he retained an unavoidable focus on attitude-ridden adventure.
So, it makes sense that All Star Batman & Robin, the Boys Wonder would go to some lengths to abandon those concepts for yet another initially unrecognizable incarnation of the Dark Knight.
While DKR and The Dark Knight Strikes Again wove several subplots into an overarching adventure about vigilantism in a superhero’s world, ASBR stretches the limits of what passes as a plot in favor of the relationships that result from a twenty-something, eccentric, masked crime-fighter adopted a twelve-year-old as a sidekick. For the first few issues, little actually happens behind our hero’s gritty narrative. Further, Batman’s mental instability can easily be explained as the result of his incredible intellect at war with his emotionally handicapped need for/fear of family. Bruce Wayne’s kinship with Dick Grayson is undeniable, but Batman has nothing in common with a child that hasn’t donned a secret identity. Enter Robin. Of course the superhero community would respond with outrage; even if they trusted Batman’s skill as a surrogate parent, they could never condone his willingness to put a child in danger, at least as long as society rejects the concept, too. So, while some might disagree with Miller’s depiction of Superman or Green Lantern as ranting nitwits, I can easily understand this direction in the context that sidekicks have yet to exist in the All-Star Batman & Robin universe.
Sounds like I have a pretty solid handle on this series, right? So what’s my problem, right?
My problem is, I don’t know if any of my interpretation is even close to what Frank Miller has intended.
If Miller’s extremely gradual development of these characters is the result of his wanting to thoroughly explore the ramifications of inviting a child into one’s vengeance-driven life of heretofore loneliness, All-Star Batman & Robin is the best modern interpretation of the Dark Knight to date. On the other hand, if he’s flying by the seat of his pants here, writing with the vigor of an aimless adolescent, I feel like a fool for dropping thirty bucks into this wet dream of a superhero comic. ASBR #9 is the closest hope I have for this series’ focus on the former, not the latter.
In ASBR #9, Green Lantern confronts Batman on his crime-fighting philosophy and technique, but obviously the Dark Knight chose the forum for their discussion, since the room, not to mention Batman and Robin themselves, are dripping from a fresh coat of yellow paint. I’ve read fellow fans’ impressions of The Yellow Room on various message boards and have learned that I must’ve been the only one that didn’t laugh out loud -- not to say that I wasn’t amused by the idea, but I really simply digested it as a natural precaution this no nonsense Batman would take. Also, painting the room is the perfect test of his new sidekick’s patience, similar to Mr. Miyagi’s wax on/wax off exercise. What ensues for the majority of this issue is an insightful debate on the nature of super-heroics in a world where alien invasions are just as common as rape or murder, and Batman’s opinion seems relatively simply: the brightly dressed superheroes can handle the multicolored problems, while he’ll use fear and vigilantism to combat the evils that stalk and terrorize the common man. (My summary is a little more sophisticated than their argument, and I’ve spared you a few offers of lemonade. Yeah, don’t ask.) Batman might’ve gotten away with his perspective had he not involved a child, so while Hal Jordan comes off as a doofus, he actually a valiant point.
Then he throws an angry punch and ruins everything.
First of all, I think a Batman/Green Lantern confrontation makes perfect sense. While Superman is usually hailed Batman’s polar opposite, GL’s origins are closer to Batman’s, in that both are regular men. One worked his entire life to achieve a modicum of humanity’s utmost power and influence, while the other was merely bequeathed a cosmic weapon that can seemingly do anything. I mean, if Abin Sur gave a young Bruce Wayne that power ring, and Hal Jordan’s parents were murdered before his very eyes, wouldn’t their situations be exactly reversed? Alas, take Hal’s ring away, and he’s just a guy in tights . . . that almost chokes to death by the skilled but unrelenting hands of a child. Yeah, if you haven’t read this issue, beware this spoiler: Robin almost kills Green Lantern. In the moments Batman and Robin share trying to save Jordan’s life, and in the rainy hours that follow, they emotionally connect in way Miller took eight issues to avoid. Batman takes Robin to the Graysons’ graves to say good-bye, and they share an unspoken determination never to behold death again.
If only Batman had said that, perhaps Green Lantern would’ve been more sympathetic.
Enough about the plot -- How does this issue look, eh? Well, while Miller is an unpredictable storyteller, shifting between sarcastic and tender moods, Jim Lee is always Jim Lee, with beautifully rendered if not sometimes overly stylized page layouts and character designs. Unfortunately, ASBR has basically been Jim Lee drawing Frank Miller’s DCU, so we haven’t seen him really cut lose with any of his own ideas, but I’m hoping a more complicated confrontation or battle sequence with either another Justice Leaguer or even the Joker will give Lee the room he needs to show off his real chops. At this point in his career, though, he’s like a “reliable dog,” to quote Simon Cowell. No, though, I won’t say he can draw the phone book and I’d buy it, but you get the point.
Now, if Miller resumes the slow-paced, arrogantly narrated tone from issues one through eight in the next issue, number ten, I’ll feel like the perfect patsy. If Batman hasn’t realized that his standoffish approach with Robin has been the greatest failure of his crime-fighting career to date, and if he hasn’t adopted a more sympathetic approach if not in tone than at least in body language, then I won’t know what to make of the whole thing. I mean, will Batman always be at odds with the other superheroes in this All-Star universe? If so, I think he’ll always be a little at odds with me, as well.
writer: Frank Miller
penciller: Jim Lee
inker: Scott Williams
colorist: Alex Sinclair
letterer: Jared K. Fletcher
assistant editor: Brandon Montclair
editor: Bob Shreck
Blogger's note: Entry for Thursday, March 6, 2008.
I’ve been on the fence about reviewing All-Star Batman & Robin, the Boy Wonder #9, just as I’ve been on the fence about whether or not I’ve enjoyed this series thus far. Well, I must be enjoying it, because I’ve faithfully bought every issue, though I’d be lying if I said each purchase was without hesitation. I’ve finally begun to understand the method to writer Frank Miller’s madness; his success with 1986’s The Dark Knight Returns hinged on his presenting the caped crusader in a way previously unimagined. Then, decades later, when his impression of Batman saturated every facet of the character and he had the chance to revisit the Dark Knight, he abandoned his previous conventions, including DKR’s distinctive sixteen-panel page layouts, for a more pervasive perspective, incorporating many of DC’s enduring heroes and villains. Miller’s subtle political commentary became blatant satire and his art style became more erratic (“with all the confidence of an arrogant teenager,” to paraphrase a review I’ve read), but he retained an unavoidable focus on attitude-ridden adventure.
So, it makes sense that All Star Batman & Robin, the Boys Wonder would go to some lengths to abandon those concepts for yet another initially unrecognizable incarnation of the Dark Knight.
While DKR and The Dark Knight Strikes Again wove several subplots into an overarching adventure about vigilantism in a superhero’s world, ASBR stretches the limits of what passes as a plot in favor of the relationships that result from a twenty-something, eccentric, masked crime-fighter adopted a twelve-year-old as a sidekick. For the first few issues, little actually happens behind our hero’s gritty narrative. Further, Batman’s mental instability can easily be explained as the result of his incredible intellect at war with his emotionally handicapped need for/fear of family. Bruce Wayne’s kinship with Dick Grayson is undeniable, but Batman has nothing in common with a child that hasn’t donned a secret identity. Enter Robin. Of course the superhero community would respond with outrage; even if they trusted Batman’s skill as a surrogate parent, they could never condone his willingness to put a child in danger, at least as long as society rejects the concept, too. So, while some might disagree with Miller’s depiction of Superman or Green Lantern as ranting nitwits, I can easily understand this direction in the context that sidekicks have yet to exist in the All-Star Batman & Robin universe.
Sounds like I have a pretty solid handle on this series, right? So what’s my problem, right?
My problem is, I don’t know if any of my interpretation is even close to what Frank Miller has intended.
If Miller’s extremely gradual development of these characters is the result of his wanting to thoroughly explore the ramifications of inviting a child into one’s vengeance-driven life of heretofore loneliness, All-Star Batman & Robin is the best modern interpretation of the Dark Knight to date. On the other hand, if he’s flying by the seat of his pants here, writing with the vigor of an aimless adolescent, I feel like a fool for dropping thirty bucks into this wet dream of a superhero comic. ASBR #9 is the closest hope I have for this series’ focus on the former, not the latter.
In ASBR #9, Green Lantern confronts Batman on his crime-fighting philosophy and technique, but obviously the Dark Knight chose the forum for their discussion, since the room, not to mention Batman and Robin themselves, are dripping from a fresh coat of yellow paint. I’ve read fellow fans’ impressions of The Yellow Room on various message boards and have learned that I must’ve been the only one that didn’t laugh out loud -- not to say that I wasn’t amused by the idea, but I really simply digested it as a natural precaution this no nonsense Batman would take. Also, painting the room is the perfect test of his new sidekick’s patience, similar to Mr. Miyagi’s wax on/wax off exercise. What ensues for the majority of this issue is an insightful debate on the nature of super-heroics in a world where alien invasions are just as common as rape or murder, and Batman’s opinion seems relatively simply: the brightly dressed superheroes can handle the multicolored problems, while he’ll use fear and vigilantism to combat the evils that stalk and terrorize the common man. (My summary is a little more sophisticated than their argument, and I’ve spared you a few offers of lemonade. Yeah, don’t ask.) Batman might’ve gotten away with his perspective had he not involved a child, so while Hal Jordan comes off as a doofus, he actually a valiant point.
Then he throws an angry punch and ruins everything.
First of all, I think a Batman/Green Lantern confrontation makes perfect sense. While Superman is usually hailed Batman’s polar opposite, GL’s origins are closer to Batman’s, in that both are regular men. One worked his entire life to achieve a modicum of humanity’s utmost power and influence, while the other was merely bequeathed a cosmic weapon that can seemingly do anything. I mean, if Abin Sur gave a young Bruce Wayne that power ring, and Hal Jordan’s parents were murdered before his very eyes, wouldn’t their situations be exactly reversed? Alas, take Hal’s ring away, and he’s just a guy in tights . . . that almost chokes to death by the skilled but unrelenting hands of a child. Yeah, if you haven’t read this issue, beware this spoiler: Robin almost kills Green Lantern. In the moments Batman and Robin share trying to save Jordan’s life, and in the rainy hours that follow, they emotionally connect in way Miller took eight issues to avoid. Batman takes Robin to the Graysons’ graves to say good-bye, and they share an unspoken determination never to behold death again.
If only Batman had said that, perhaps Green Lantern would’ve been more sympathetic.
Enough about the plot -- How does this issue look, eh? Well, while Miller is an unpredictable storyteller, shifting between sarcastic and tender moods, Jim Lee is always Jim Lee, with beautifully rendered if not sometimes overly stylized page layouts and character designs. Unfortunately, ASBR has basically been Jim Lee drawing Frank Miller’s DCU, so we haven’t seen him really cut lose with any of his own ideas, but I’m hoping a more complicated confrontation or battle sequence with either another Justice Leaguer or even the Joker will give Lee the room he needs to show off his real chops. At this point in his career, though, he’s like a “reliable dog,” to quote Simon Cowell. No, though, I won’t say he can draw the phone book and I’d buy it, but you get the point.
Now, if Miller resumes the slow-paced, arrogantly narrated tone from issues one through eight in the next issue, number ten, I’ll feel like the perfect patsy. If Batman hasn’t realized that his standoffish approach with Robin has been the greatest failure of his crime-fighting career to date, and if he hasn’t adopted a more sympathetic approach if not in tone than at least in body language, then I won’t know what to make of the whole thing. I mean, will Batman always be at odds with the other superheroes in this All-Star universe? If so, I think he’ll always be a little at odds with me, as well.
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