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Friday, April 10, 2015

THE END OF AN ERA

At a DC Comics event, circa 2002. L-R: Yer Bunche, Sergio Cariello, Lysa Hawkins.

Today marks the closing of DC Comics' Manhattan offices as the company moves to Burbank, California, a former colleague (now a dear friend and drinking buddy) from my days as a comics biz grunt attended the closing. With some minor edits (made to conceal the person's identity) here's the email I received with the photo seen above:

Was just up at DC for the closing of the offices toast (a dixie cup with a half mouthful of champagne), which was handled about as half ass-edly as you'd expect. But I spotted this pic on the remembrance board and thought you'd like to know you were represented. 

End of an era, and lots of good memories for me to go along with the bad - the lack of respect and flat out betrayal I experienced in this biz. But the offices, especially pre-9/11, when you could pop in and out at will, were always a great place to hang out, shoot the shit with friends in editorial or whoever was in town from abroad. Anyway, you missed nothing today, but thought you'd like to know.

Indeed, I do appreciate being made aware of this. After the royal and very much politically-motivated screwing-over I received during my years years in Vertigo (and to a much lesser extent as an artist in the production department by a closeted asshole of a direct superior, before I made the leap to editorial), I long-ago accepted that my contributions to the company would be swept away and forgotten, a revising or whiting-out of of history facilitated by some of the very petty and childish power-wielders who were my superiors at the time, despite the noted fact that my award-winning rise from production to an associate editorial position was, up to that time, the swiftest in the company's history. But let us not speak ill of the "dead." It's nice to know that though a footnote I may be, my existence within the home of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman has not been totally expunged from the company's memory.

IMITATION OF LIFE (1959) at the Film Forum

Lobby card from the film's original release, featuring Susan Kohner as the troubled Sarah Jane Johnson.

Just got back from the Film Forum's screening of IMITATION OF LIFE (1959), a film that has fascinated me since I first encountered it in the great Esther Newton's infamous "American Society On Film" class during my SUNY at Purchase college days. It's a re-imagining of a 1934 chick flick/"weepie" about two mothers, one black and one white, and their daughters, who all come together under one roof as a blended family and contend with issues of class, race, and family dysfunction, and the 1959 version is one of the all-time classic examples of a textbook emotionally-manipulative Hollywood soaper. Its examination of how American society of its era made true equality/harmony between blacks and whites in general unlikely at best hauls out the longstanding tropes of the martyred, saintly older black woman who's the emotional backbone and real strength of the family (to both black and white factions), and the so-called tragic mulatto whose case of self-loathing is invariably more compelling than the upper-class travails of the white protagonists.


Sarah Jane (Susan Kohner), surrounded by white masks. Subtle it is not...

I won't spoil the plot's details but the 1959 IMITATION OF LIFE's portrait of Sarah Jane (Susan Kohner), the angry, self-loathing light-skinned daughter of a black father who's described as "almost white," is far more compelling than the rote rags-to-riches showbiz rise of its white main character (Lana Turner) and how her success leads her to unintentionally neglect her blossoming 16-year-old (Sandra Dee). The actress's storyline is not bad by any means, but it was something that was already seen numerous times prior to the film's release, however it's essential to the overall narrative by providing the perfect background against which to contrast the entwined lives of Sarah Jane and her mother (Juanita Moore) who works as the actress's live-in maid and bosom companion whose support and caring for the actress's daughter frees the actress to pursue stage gigs. Sarah Jane's rejection of her dusky heritage and her shattering desire to pass for white from an early age form the true emotional core of the story and Susan Kohner's Oscar-nominated performance renders the character's arc as nothing less than painful and heartbreaking. In short, if you have not seen this film, seek it out for Kohner's arc.


Which brings me to last night's Screening at the Film Forum, where I met the one and only Susan Kohner. Kohner's spectacular portrayal of the deeply troubled, self-loathing Sarah Jane Johnson struck a very strong chord with my mother's side of the family, especially with a certain aunt who basically was the character in real life. (Though Sarah Jane never ran into the same kinds of issues with the law that the aunt in question did, but the less said of that the better...) Following the film, Kohner sat for an interview with a film professor  — whose questions/expoundings were of little or no weight and who clearly missed the entire point of the movie he was allegedly such an authority upon; that assessment was shared by a friend of mine who was also in attendance and is a highly-knowledgeable film scholar and director of films herself — and later answered questions from members of the audience. Since the opportunity was afforded, I took the mic and told Kohner of how much her character and performance meant to my family and especially my aunt. Following that, she was also kind enough to pose for a shot with her that I will send to the interested parties in my family, especially the aforementioned aunt.

 Yer Bunche, with the one and only Susan Kohner.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

NEMO: RIVER OF GHOSTS (2015)

Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill have done it again with NEMO: RIVER OF GHOSTS, the latest adventure of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen's Janni Dakkar, the stone-cold badass daughter of Captain Nemo. It's 1975 and the Captain is in her twilight years, her life now consumed with a passion to track down and destroy the infamous Ayesha, whom she had personally beheaded thirty-four years prior and had good reason to believe was dead. It's another crazy modern-day pulp feast in which the creative team wear their love of the entire pop culture universe on their sleeves, including appearances by and/or references to Godzilla, the Boys from Brazil, Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (!!!), the giant ants from THEM!, the Stepford Wives, Hugo Danner, and a few surprises that it would be criminal to spoil here. As usual, O'Neill loads the panels with visual gags that are sure to perplex the casual reader while they delight hardcore geeks, such as the inclusion of a statue of King Triton from Gerry Anderson's classic sci-fi marionette series STINGRAY, and the stuffed body of Squiddly Diddly in the Captain's study. (Seen below.) 

This final installment of the Nemo trilogy — following NEMO: HEART OF ICE (2013) and NEMO: GHOSTS OF BERLIN (2014) — utterly satisfies and leaves one wondering what Moore and O'Neill next have in mind for the world they've gene-spliced together over the run of THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN. 

Thursday, March 19, 2015

I CANNOT WAIT FOR THE FIRST MIDNIGHT SHOW!

This TV spot is better than any of the theatrical trailers. May 1st can't get here soon enough for me!

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

AN IMPROMPTU SIDEWALK CRITIQUE

It's time for another "Yer Bunche meets a crazy on the street" moment!

While waiting for a friend to join me for an early dinner at the Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits on Court Street, I was leaning against a scaffolding pole and leaving my friend a phone message when I sensed I was being stared at. I looked up and standing in front of me was a well-dressed black woman who appeared to be in her early sixties. She held me transfixed as she looked me up and down, a sneer of naked disdain on her face as her angry-looking eyes bored into my very being. When she noted me looking back at her, she said with a West Indian accent, "I can't believe what I'm seeing in this country..." I was not dressed inappropriately, I was talking softly into my phone, and was in no way doing anything to inspire such a from-out-of-nowhere critique. Confused, I asked "What did I do?" She glared at me and simply responded with "Bunch of BULLSHIT!!!" before dismissively and disgustedly turning her back on me and stridently marching up the block.

The only thing I can think of that could possibly have set her off — other than possible insanity — was the Judge Death badge I wear on my left lapel. Whatever the case, I was stunned as I once again prove my friend John Bligh​'s long-ago observation that I am indeed a "magnet for the crazy."

Monday, March 16, 2015

OOOH, IT MAKES ME WONDER...

(art by David Finch and Jonathan Glapion)

This is the just-released image of Wonder Woman's new costume, apparently a direct response to those who bitch and moan about her classic look being too revealing. What in the holy living fuck is this??? This new design fairly screams "corporate licensing mandate." To me, this looks like a character from Tron, only minus the neon detailing and bicycling helmet, and the only way to fugly this up any further would be to have her head completely obscured by an upside down Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket with eye holes cut into it. Upon seeing this, I spoke with a certain prominent cartoonist (whom I will not name out of professional courtesy) and that person described this as "What's even going on with this? It's a kitchen sink approach. It looks like she couldn't decide on what to wear, so she just threw on everything!"

I'm a lifelong Wonder Woman booster, indoctrinated early by my mother who grew up reading the character in the 1940's — she's a true feminist who would never bother to apply the label of feminist to herself — so my favorite look for the Amazon princess is the 1940's style. Kinky hair, breastplate clearly drawn to look like a solid armored component, bracelets as a reminder of the Amazons' enslavement at the hands of cruel males, those signature boots, and shorts that stopped at mid-thigh (as opposed to a bikini bottom) that brought to mind a '40's-era female athlete. 

This is what immediately comes to mind when I think of the Wonder Woman of the comics.

Diana is a physical presence, a warrior/athlete who would be proud of her body's fitness and fine honing as a peak performance instrument of her will and agency, not flaunting her sex appeal, as is too often mis-perceived. (And, to be fair, mis-handled by some one-handed artists.) And when it comes to more contemporary takes on the character, the versions that stand out in my estimation would the those delineated by George Perez, who rebooted Wonder Woman in the mid-1980's, and Brian Bolland, whose impeccable labor-intensive line work on the series' covers lent Diana a regal dignity that shone throne in whatever composition he crafted for her.

The sweet and smiling George Perez version.

Brian Bolland's regal take.

None of these depictions is "revealing," prurient, or exploitative in the least. Instead they project the formidable spirit and athletic physical prowess of a hero who happens to be a woman. Like I said previously, Diana's physicality is a major part of her function as a warrior, so her gear should restrict her limbs as little as possible and, as a warrior steeped in ancient Greek martial culture, she would know that and attire herself accordingly. (Also, the lack of armor points out the non-invulnerable Diana's confidence in her own fighting acumen and skill with her bracelets when dealing with bullets and other projectile attacks. That would frustrate the living shit out of opponents who underestimated her and thought she'd be an easy target.) There is nothing immodest here, especially since Diana was not taught shame over her body, and her garb communicates both the aforementioned physicality and the strong, proud ethos of the Amazons, who are about as hardcore tough as it gets. That's pretty fucking cool and a great role model for young girls. And speaking of fucking cool, this Cliff Chiang design for a statue of Diana is exactly the kind of thing that a Greco-Roman mythology fan like me wants to see applied to her when she's kicking ass and taking no prisoners. This was very well though-out, right down to her hair being tied up so it doesn't obscure her vision during battle.

Cliff Chiang's excellent design. Tres gladiatorial!

The only element that regularly threw a monkey wrench into Diana's heroic presentation was when the character was under the creative control of illustrators who based her look on their own lusty fantasies — which are mostly inappropriate for a flagship female hero, and not just a flagship female hero, but the flagship female hero — drawing her with a Barbie-like physique, or rooting her  design in photo reference of silicone-augmented swimsuit models and exotic dancers/strippers.

Then you get another effect, in which DC Comics tried to appease internet whiners who piss and grouse about Wonder Woman's outfit being "sleazy" and "hooker-ish." While kissing the collective internet ass of their overly-politically-correct detractors, some of the stylistic misfires applied to the Amazing Amazon's look include:
  • A black leather jacket with matching gloves and boots, accented with ebony biker shorts and sports bra. That look was once descried by one of my Marvel Bullpen colleagues as "making her look like one of those chicks who hangs out at the Scarp Bar."
  • Another leather jacket, coupled with pants, thus giving her the look of a generic denizen of a seedy biker joint.
  • Most recently, a return to what was her basic template, only with a considerably muted color palette, dark blue/black shorts with minimal stars, black boots (with white trim), silver torc worn on her bicep, and an ill-advised metal choker that no sane warrior would wear into active combat.      
And now we're given a design that does not speak at all of Wonder Woman's positive aspects and instead evokes a generic costume store manikin or, perhaps more accurately, one of those random variant action figures that no kid wants to play with unless there's absolutely nothing else to be had.

As a result of seeing this latest of DC Comics' ongoing tsunami of pop culture war atrocities, I just got through looking on Amazon Marketplace for a copy of the WW coffee table book that came out when I was a kid, so I can give it my niece Aurora for her seventh birthday. I refuse to let her come up in a world without a proper Diana. I just will not allow it.

And just what, dear Vaulties, is your opinion on this?

Friday, March 13, 2015

HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13TH

"KIH-KIH-KIH...MAH-MAH-MAH..."

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

COMING SOON! A DOCUMENTARY ON THE DAMNED

Having been a massive fan of these guys for three decades, you can bet your ass that I will be there for this on opening night when it hits Manhattan.

Monday, March 02, 2015

TOKUSATSU ON PRESIDENT STREET

This has been a long, harsh winter and Brooklyn had been festooned with snow for weeks. Just shy of fifty, I no longer enjoy the snow like I did during my childhood, but earlier this evening I was hit with inspiration that reminded me of those bygone days of innocence and fun. Looking to my shelf of Japanese monster toys for inspiration, I grabbed two of the items found there and utilized them as models in the snow outside of my building.

Strangely, I feel much better for having done this.

Friday, February 27, 2015