Thoughts on Cinema

Its Hard for comedic stars to stay relevant through the decades, they may luck out with physical gimmicks (The Pink Panther), or perhaps the weird persona sells it (any “Ernest” films)
If it works, audiences will buy tickets to view the latest bumbling of a somewhat functioning jester. We revel in the behavioral nature of the uninhibited rebel, breaking norms on screen in what we the audiences wish to do off screen.. Silent film actors like Fatty Arbuckle; Charlie Chaplin, even present day Bill Murray, represented the unleashed ids of moviegoers ready to identify with a man/child rule breaker. How long does that last before the comedian wears out his welcome and begins to resemble your grandpa wearing those disco pants you thought he got rid of. Jerry Lewis once disapproved of the Farrelly Brothers” Dumb and Dumber, in particular Jim Carrey’s toilet humor approach of Lloyd, indeed the short cropped hairstyle and awkwardness was in some ways homage to the Lewis’s own geeky character Julius Kelp in the Nutty professor.

Lewis summed up his disapproval of the tone of the movie and perhaps Carrey as well. Had he looked a bit thoroughly, he might have picked up Carrey’s choices of bobbing back and forth between low art and better art, from Ace Ventura crudeness to concepts like the very Tex Avery styled The Mask.
Lewis did the reverse or rather stayed the same, continuously playing the same buffoon from previous roles. He was once half the comedy duo of Dean Martin in the late forties before striking out on his own.. but things change, political administrations come and go, economic times go up and down , the caricature of a man -child act can only go so far. This is probably the reason why Lewis’s career stalled in the 60’s and went dead in the 70’s, like the proverbial peter Pan, Lewis never wanted to grow up, Movies like Hardly working only painfully revealed that the times have finally and decisively caught up with him.
And this is where Jim Carrey comes in, veteran of the TV show in Living Color, he branched into the film world, catering first to the college frat crowd with low brow humor but also engaging in more ambitious comedies like the Truman show. Carrey avoids the mistake Lewis made in his career, realizing just in time that burlesque antics eventually wears thin with each generation. So a change was needed if you wanted to stick around a little longer.

Carey had some miss-steps along the way. Wanting to be taken seriously, he overplayed his hand in the Majestic, A Capra influenced knock off that gives new meaning to the word maudlin. The Number 23, a semi-horror mystery drama became a mystery on why it was made. Finally taking a page from the Michel Gondry’s film Sunshine of the spotless mind, he may now be finding his niche balancing his unique style with off the wall quirkiness. It’s not the character that’s funny but the situation around him.

I love you Phillip Morris is the most daring subject yet for Carrey. Based on a true story of a gay con man that gifts his way through life until he finds true love connections with Ewan McGregor, played wonderfully in a gentle doe like performance. With his puppy dog eyes and lilting voice, he makes him a very enticing and literal jailbait that anyone straight or gay would probably fall for. The movie’s protagonist is reminiscence of Spielberg’s film “Catch Me if You Can”, but whereas DiCaprio character was deluding himself of being something he was not, due to lack of family cohesiveness, Carrey’s Steven Russell revel in his con to keep his. If anything the acts of deception by Russell validates the attitudes of economic excess of Reagan-omic indulgence of the 80′s.
There are moments of sweetness that solidify the relationship as in one intermittent scene of Carrey and McGregor slow dancing nonchalantly as Johnnie Mathis‘s Chances are played on, amidst the violent accompaniment of a police shutdown in the next prison cell. The passion and the devotion Russell has in their relationship wasn’t any different than Hawkeye’s declaration of love to Cora in the Last of the Mohicans. Add consistent prison escapes and con jobs gives weight to Russell’s motivations, yes he’s a thief but he’s caring one.
Look we can wonder if Carrey is or isn’t going for Oscar gold with these choices, but I won’t slam him if he tried. After all, everybody wants to stay relevant.

I Love You Philip Morris a beer rates a shot of bourbon.

Cheers,
Greg

Nursing My Sundays: Random Thoughts

Weren’t we all non-comic book fans at some point?
This summer marks the biggest blitz of Comic book adaptations to date. As the adaptations continue to be a mixed bag of source material and modernization, I keep hearing the excuse, “Well this was for the non-comic book fan demographic to make it more accessible.” by critics, random posts, and movie crowds. I’ve collected comic books for the last 25 years and believe it or not, I wasn’t born a comic book fan. What attracted me to comic books was the fact, I was born in downtown Detroit where art was a luxury item. It had no place in a concrete jungle. The local library branch had an art section that was literally one book shelf long. My parents couldn’t afford $50 for one art book. Comic books were the Picasso paintings for the poor. It was less than a $1 but for the uneducated it was more imaginative and accessible than any work of art after the Renaissance. Thanks to the internet, we all have our own updated Encyclopedia Britainnica. So why do we still have to cater to the lowest common denominator?

 

At one point, Nathan Fillion became the random internet guy answer to every comic book casting call.
Comic book super heroes might just be the last vestige of American originality. For anyone who doesn’t believe America has its own culture needs to look no further than the Smithsonian and Comic Cons. If it seems possible Americans have culture shock within their own country. We erect Ferris wheels and over priced steak houses at baseball stadiums. Giants stadium in New Jersey has a mall. Super Heroes have problems like ordinary people to make them more relatable so when Wolverine puts on the butt tight spandex and cerulean blue go-go dancer boots we take him more seriously. Really people?

 

Who are you, Karim Garcia?
On April 14th, Midtown Comics held an open Q&A with the Marvel publishers where a young woman asked the pompous question, “What are you doing to retain your female readers?” Marvel Comics Executive Editor Tom Brevoort replied, “I like to believe we are all comic book fans and don’t subscribe to this race, culture, or sex demographic.” The irony was this young woman had only started reading comic books a few months ago and was passing out her card to her website prior. So if modern story-telling and adaptations are skewed toward the non-comic book fan, how seriously should we take anyone who complained about Wonder Woman’s costume, a black Spider-man, or the absence of secret identities?

Kurt Vonnegut was right. The information age was billed as making things more accessible but it almost seems more exclusive and expensive.
Allegedly the movie adaptations of these comic book characters were supposed to expand readership, meanwhile the cost has escalated to almost $4 for 22 pages. Doesn’t sound to me like Marvel or DC are worried about readership drop off. Ok, so every one seems to think digital was the answer. At 2010 NY Comic Con, DC’s Town Hall meeting an intimate Q&A bitchfest with the fans Jim Lee explained the overly convoluted process to getting comic books digital on time. If you thought print had too many middle men, digital process was so convoluted writers and artists had to finish their story 2 weeks sooner than they would through print. In essence, digital does not save time or money but it is cheaper to the consumer for now. In the long run, it may ruin the market. Now that netflix and itunes has killed off your local record store and video rental spot, you’re their bitch to pay their prices.

Awaiting the one who will bring balance to the Force
Whether readers like it or not, we have to become smarter consumers but we have to challenge ourselves to be more experimental with story-telling. Learning didn’t end once you left school, it just began. Take a look at Marvel and DC comics, you’ll find a ridiculous amount of Spider-man, Wolverine, Deadpool, Batman, Green Lantern crammed into as many titles as possible. How many titles of the same character do you need to collect? How many of the same regurgitated remakes do you need to pay $14 when you could rent the original for less than half the price? Who cares about updates, we can do that in our minds. What happened to not being afraid to try something new?

See you next Sunday,

Ron

The harder sell in the movie Thor was not the CGI but convincing us that a winner of the genetic lottery, Natalie Portman had a hard time finding a decent guy. By decent she meant, a beefcake straight from the cover of Playgirl magazine.

The Gods are angry and there will be hell to pay in the movie Thor directed by Shakespearean legend, Kenneth Branagh. In a house of two princes, the relationship between two worlds will once again, come into play as a banished warmongering young prince learned nobility wasn’t a birthright but earned through peace and understanding.

Branagh’s film might not be of the classical comic book interpretation of Thor but he did succeed in creating a credible interpretation of his own, a super hero tale of romance. He channeled his Shakespearian stage play experience into decent dialogue that epitomized rhythmic wordy monologue derived from comic books. As the All Father Odin, Anthony Hopkins set the tone having established a regal presence within these characters by carefully weighing his words with every breath. Chris Hemsworth worked within his limitations but it was Ray Stevenson as Volstagg who was one line away from bellowing, “What’s in your wallet?” Within the realm of Asgard, these ornate caped warriors are convincing as something one would see at the Metropolitan Opera. The transition of taking these characters and putting them into the world an audience might relate to wasn’t quite as seamless but Branagh did spare his audience the obligatory, “You must be European…”

Screenwriters Ashley Miller and Zach Stentz best known for their work on Agent Cody Banks weren’t very efficient in terms of balancing out the scenes between Asgard and Midgard headed into the second and third act. The time and care invested to make the budding romance between Thor and Jane Foster credible was not as caring when it came to the Odin sleep and Loki’s somewhat convoluted plot.
As the brilliant astrophysicist Jane Foster who can’t drive, Natalie Portman worked well with the limited material as a giggly girl who hasn’t met many desired beefcakes. Arguably more wasted talent than Rene Russo’s appearance was Kat Dennings who played a useless demographic named Darcy. She was an intentional character shoehorned into the story to provide campy laugh every time the studio execs feared Thor might turn its audience off by taking itself a little too seriously. Gotta ask, was Hilary Duff too busy at the time?

Thor faltered in the last act. The much hyped battle against the Destroyer was over before it even started. Loki’s lie within a lie within a lie just had too many plot points that didn’t make any sense. It was the plot equivalent of Bernie Madoff lying to his investors in order to gain the presidency by dooming those evil rich people. Silly and misguided, one wondered if the god of lies and mischief lied to himself. Thankfully, the film never wasted too much time with super villain explanations. Instead, it’s one hammer strike away from the credits.

Thor rates a Strong Bow cider. Sweet tasting and easy going down so long as you don’t get too carried away trying to make sense of it.

Cheers,
Ron

Bradley Cooper may be onto something bigger when it comes to pill popping for financial gains.

It’s been said, with great power comes great responsibility but don’t tell that to Eddie (Bradley Cooper). As a struggling writer, he yearned to be a more clear minded individual that was smarter, more successful in order to ultimately live a better life. When Eddie was left in the dust of his last girlfriend, his drug dealing ex-brother-in-law offered him the means to bridge the gap, his quality of life improved in such large increments that it was bound to attract attention and trouble. Unfortunately every cheat comes with a price.

Limitless was a thinly veiled tale of drug addiction except it threw a curve ball by making the drug addiction more seductive. Most individuals with a strong sense of morality might not find value in taking even Tylenol for a headache but even the morally strongest individuals could make use of a drug that could solve all your problems. The set up was almost Philip K. Dick-ish because it made a good argument for amorality in a world that never accepted middle aged mediocrity and underachievers.

Director Neil Burger and screen writer Leslie Dixon do a decent job of adapting Alan Glynn’s novel by keeping the film focused on the benefits and stowing away the science that would lose 90% of the audience. Burger capitalized on the materialistic gains, suspense of losing it all, and not overextending the reach of his actors. Similar to JJ Abrams’ Red Matter, NZT didn’t have any explanation of what it does other than dress a clean shaven Bradley Cooper in 20 GQ outfits and lush Manhattan surroundings. However, it did give some interesting allusions to time, space variable and how Eddie was able to see the future before working out in his mind what possibilities laid before him.

DeNiro played opposite of Cooper with very limited material. He wasn’t he main antagonist but the obstacle that kept Eddie from seeing all the angles and when the real opposition appeared, the plot began to dissolve away much like Eddie coming down from NZT. Alas, the movie never captured the first 2/3rds of fun but it did entertain and played every character to their strength.

If I had to rate Limitless, I’d give it a nice smooth Brooklyn Lager but limit myself to just one for the road. Memorable moments but nothing worthy of having another.

Cheers,
Ron

Patrick Breen led new credence to, “Guess who’s coming to dinner?”

When a curious stranger sought shelter in the home of a troubled family far removed from the nearest town, a dark brooding tale of tragedy unfolded in the Bleeding House. First time director/screen writer Philip Gelatt was inspired from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and it’s easy to recognize its atmospheric influence once the camera gazed upon an isolated home in the middle of nowhere before a stranger came knocking. Nick, the mysterious stranger was played by the well versed Patrick Breen who channeled a convincing creepy, soothing predator dressed in the iconic white suit and pontificating with a Southern accent. The more unpredictable variable was the proverbial elephant sitting in the room suffocating every member in the family. The nightmares of the mother, the selectively catatonic daughter’s obsession with dead things, and the father’s financial troubles gave the audience pieces of a puzzle to play with. With Nick’s introduction, the careful controlled development of family psychology was undermined and reduced to a predictable linear suspense thriller. With very little material to work with beyond the first 20 minutes, Alexandra Chando never quite convinced the audience of the one plot twist in the film because there was no development but rather, creepy imagery. Nick did all the talking, sometimes for other characters, and perhaps explained too much of the plot. While Gelatt created a serviceable film, he didn’t have to spoon feed the audience at every juncture. A charismatic weirdo can carry a film but he or she can also take the audience out of the film to the point where he was overbearing. Nonetheless, the Bleeding House was still a serviceable film with form and function.

The Bleeding House rates as a house brew on tap. It has taste but less character, it could have been so much more.

Cheers,
Ron

With at least 10 Christ the Redeemer pan shots, was Director Justin Lin paying tribute to Ministry’s Jesus Built my hotrod?

The Fast Five was every thing a thrill seeker wanted out of a guilty pleasure: Fast cars, cool stunts, hot women, exotic locales, a major heist followed by ultra intense chase scenes. Like a short order chef, director Justin Lin served it all up with the right ingredients of testosterone, chrome, and attitude. Having never kept the audience waiting, this film was easily the most satisfying action film in the first third of 2011.
Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel), his sister Mia (Jordana Brewster), and Brian O’Connor (Paul Walker) are on the run after busting Dominic out of prison. When a Rio de Janeiro kingpin of crime Reyes crossed the line in a deal gone badly, Toretto called in a team of previous Fast & Furious characters to clean him out, literally. Unfortunately Hobbes, a Special Forces agent played by Dwayne Johnson, was brought in to bring down Toretto’s crew. Can these thick as thieves’ characters stay alive long enough to buy back their freedom? Well look at it this way, the ending after the credits should tell you the premise of the 6th F&F

Released on bond from the Disney contract, Dwayne Johnson delivered a much-needed sizable threat to Vin Diesel. He was every bit as intimidating and his fight scene with Vin Diesel invoked the JR WWE RAW comment, “Bah Gawd King! The Rock is Back!” By ante up the complexity of the heist with various threats, this heist was the best of the series. Every character complimented the other, as the focus never went away from being a Heist movie. Most of all Fast Five has a fantastical look at romanticizing good-looking actors living a life on the run. For doing the time to see this film, you’re rewarded with every thing it has to offer.

If I had to rate Fast Five, it’s easily a shot of Jameson…fast, smooth, with a kick. Cheers!

Perhaps not as powerful as x-ray vision, Brandon Routh is still as perceptive as ever.

When there’s something rotting in seedy New Orleans, Private eye Dylan Dog was forced out of retirement to once again take on the mantle of a constable whose forte’ was investigating supernatural crimes. Very loosely based off the Italian source material, Dead of Night came off as a lighter episode of Supernatural. Brandon Routh played a very smooth, charismatic looking protagonist with a dark past that left him with a constricted affect and brooding good looks. His neurotic man servant played by Being Human’s Sam Huntington provided the campy laughs with girlish cries for help. Anita Briem played the damsel in distress whose father was murdered for a mysterious artifact. All of these ingredients served as Canadian director Kevin Munroe’s undead version of the Maltese Falcon. Unfortunately, Briem never bothered to generate any sense of fear or awe from his creatures. As a result, the stakes were never raised as the audience was led deeper into the story.

The hardest pill to swallow in this film was the inconsistent combat scenes. The narrative was so careful as to point out that vampire blood gave humans the strength of ten men. Essentially, vampires could easily kill a human being yet, a mortal like Dylan Dog not only trades punches with werewolves, vampires, seven foot zombies and a demonic god but he also survived being thrown through more barriers than Mick Foley in a Hell in a Cell match. Hence, the stakes were never raised nor the climax dire and as such, the film’s action was unremarkable.

Without the horror aspect, this film quickly lost any flavor beyond a generic detective story. If I had to rate this film, I’d give it a lite beer on the account that it was stingy with its potential for a truly unique campy horror/adventure film.

Cheers,
Ron

Few have a reaction like this anymore when they’re told the devil is after them.

Another crazy possessed girl is back with The Last Exorcism, an amateur mess that severely fails at trying to create anything truly scary or original.  It’s the latest pseudo-documentary with hopes of riding off the success of films like Paranormal Activity or at least make a profit with its low-budget fiasco.  Instead of using what made those films good or improving their mistakes, director Daniel Stamm loses track and ends up producing just a poorly done horror feature.

 

Taking place somewhere in the South, The Last Exorcism is about Cotton Marcus, a minister who decides to hire a camera crew to expose the Church’s fraud by performing a staged exorcism with a devout family.  What he and the crew don’t realize is that they may actually be dealing with a real possession.  It starts off like a Dateline special on minister Cotton Marcus, who sells himself more as a comedian than a minister as he slips a recipe for banana bread into his sermon without the parish realizing it, showing the church’s blinding hold over its people and validating his own hucksterism about religion.  The set up makes an interesting news special, but the film wants a “found footage” sense to it, and yet after the introduction on Marcus, there’s rarely a shot that actually feels like someone just filmed it.

 

These kinds of movies are meant to feel authentic, natural, and real in a supernatural setting.  It’s what intensified the fear in films like The Blair Witch Project.  You should be able to buy into in what’s going on even if there are demons or monsters, but the film barely gives you the chance to accept this reality, especially during the two exorcism scenes.  The first one alternates between the bedroom where the ritual is being performed and the van where Cotton shows the nifty gadgets he uses for the hoax.  The second one, the big confrontation, cuts from person to person with multiple camera positions despite the fact that there is only one cameraman, hindering the natural realism this movie is intended to mimic.

 

The plot is just as problematic as Stamm tries to blindside the issues with a few curve balls and succeeds only in losing the focus of the narrative, but audience’s patience as well .  He keeps you guessing a little bit as he plays with the idea of whether or not the situation is actually real, but in the last act, he crashes the two possibilities together into a train-wreck of an ending.  Not two minutes after the film decides to go one way, it completely flips around and finishes with a reveal that only shocks by how absurd it is.

 

The Last Exorcism is marketed as another horror documentary, but the sloppy camera work, uninspired cutting, and ridiculously plotted storyline shows that Stamm was unable to make any sense out of this  mess.  In the hands of somebody who comprehends the appeal of the genre, this could’ve been the Cloverfield of exorcism movies, submerging you into an unreal situation and being terrified by whatever happens next.  Instead, the Last Exorcism is a piss-warm beer that leaves you desperately trying to wash the taste out of your mouth when it’s over.

Bring on the bad guys! Jeff Bridges does double duty much to our delight in Tron Legacy.

When Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges) said, he made a discovery that was going to change every thing from medicine to religion, I thought he was referring to Disney’s attempt to ante’ up the precedent that Avatar had set. After all, the Christmas break has unofficially become the new summer blockbuster season from which, studios try to leech whatever disposable income was left after buying presents in an effort to push new technology that translated to higher movie ticket prices. Case in point, the average ticket in Manhattan was $14.25 before Avatar’s 3-D pushed the price to $20. Nearly a $6 increase per ticket. For a family of three, that’s $60 in the hole before even glancing at the concession stands. So after two years of hype, Tron Legacy was supposed to keep the fires burning for another season. Domestically Tron Legacy did not break boundaries. Via Box Office Mojo, Legacy grossed $172M with a production cost of $170M. Thanks to international and blu-ray sales, Legacy will spawn another sequel. Whether or not it will screen better is cloudy with a chance of backfire.

 

Kevin Flynn had been missing for two decades until Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner) received a page from Flynn’s old office within the infamous arcade. Don’t ask why Alan, the creator of Tron, never bothered to look inside the grid but Disney was hoping you’d forget about that egregious plot hole. He decided to tell Kevin’s son, Sam Flynn what he had received and decided to allow him to search for his dad. As Sam followed his father’s footsteps into the grid, he discovered for himself that it’s more nightmarish and less adventurous than his dad had led him to believe. The result was a film that was largely uneven because it tried to be too many things, philosophical, theoretical, spiritual, and action packed.

 

Legacy delivered the visionary world of Tron on an unprecedented level utilizing CGI that the original could never dream to achieve. Deadly discs, light cycles, and light jets equated to multi-level, overly complex and visually stunning imagery that epitomized every gamer’s wet dream. It definitely took Tron to the next level but that’s not where the movie began to ‘derezz.’

 

Much like its predecessor, Tron Legacy tried to push the envelope by integrating a deeper science fiction component to the film. Does total freedom of information require giving up individuality and individual freedoms that western civilization holds dear? The idea of how using information for own personal cultivation brought about imperfection and dyslinear balance was the perfection that Kevin Flynn was looking for but his CLU identity could never understand. Neither could the audience. Like a Philip K. Dick novel, this topic is fret with deep philosophical and socioeconomic jargon that any nerd appreciated. Can it work as a film? Director Joseph Kosinski tried unsuccessfully to flesh the abstract component of Tron Legacy but such deep ideas idea aren’t always filmable especially when your producer was trying to sell toys, video games, posters, and good looking movie stars.

 

Once again, Jeff Bridges continued his streak of brilliant acting. He played both sides of the coin with great panache and sage wisdom. As Clu, Bridges’ CGI-ed youth showed no rust as it represented Flynn’s ego and overachieving will power gone mad. As Kevin Flynn, Bridges’ aged expressions expressed the appropriate vulnerability towards his son as he tried to make atones for his sins both in the real world and the grid. By far, the strongest narrative in the film was the Flynn character coming full circle with his legacy, ambition, and his tragic flaws. When his reach overextended his grasp, he paid the price. Tron Legacy was the ultimate inquiry into the soul of humanity in the modern age. Our bodies cannot possibly live long enough to satisfy the human desire to finish what we started. Is our immortality within the machines we created? A good question worth pondering on the way out of the cinema.

 

If I had to rate Tron Legacy, I’d give it well-aged Bourbon. Lively taste then a subtle after taste that makes you rethink what you had before taking another taste to fully enjoy it on another level.

 

Cheers,

Ron

Nursing My Sundays: MoCCA 2011

Nursing Sundays: 2011 MoCCA Fest & the fallacy of Comic Cons

OP/Editorial: I was never more convinced that Comic Cons were reduced to a Winnebago sales pitch than the 2010 NY Comic Con. Pretty much every major comic book website, blogger, or TV personality failed to recognize the elephant in the room: Comic book movies weren’t translating to new readers. At the Image panel, pretty much the last 20 minutes was nothing but uncomfortable silence. Suddenly as a hand went up, the person called upon had asked, “Got any new movies coming out?” None of these established sites commented on the war between Marvel scribe Peter David and a fan over pricing. I loved the stink face on Rick Remender and Marjorie Liu. Nothing beat the body language of writers with their arms crossed and the facial expression, “I can’t wait for this panel to be over.” Forget the X-men panel, debate was so heated that you’d think the fan was asking David to move to the Marcy Projects over a $1 per issue. With all the individuals dressing up as it was the NY Halloween parade, this was the center of diehard geekery via the Disney route. I’m willing to bet very few of those individuals dressed up to be someone’s screen saver knew anything pertaining to the character they represented in the last 5 months. Shocked they didn’t have name tags of the comic book characters they dressed as. It’s about as sincere as fans who wear jerseys of players with their names on the back. If you can’t tell who #2 is, you shouldn’t come to Yankee stadium. However, there is hope for fans of comic books who want to attend a convention that doesn’t subscribe to Hollywood but rather humble writers and artists.

MoCCA 2011 didn’t support too many costumed attention whore clowns. On Sunday, I saw a lesbian couple dressed as Bucky and Batwoman. That was it. It’s because without the G4, MTV, and TV affiliations, you’re not going to see the theatrics. It’s a convention that supports self published creators who are often overshadowed by Marvel, DC, Image and other mainstream publishers.  Beware walking past any of the tables because starving artists can smell any loose change on you. As Ayn Rand taught us in the Fountainhead, society was always slower to come around to an innovative idea. Most of the most profound art in this world is about this very problem. So I’m sorry you brilliant minds, you’re going to have to suffer before you’re picked up. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to help sell what most fans miss out when they are busy wiping the drool off their face whenever Geoff Johns, or Brian Michael Bendis walk the floor.

Meeting Sarah Glidden Up Close and Personal

I usually never walk the floor at a comic con. First of all, they’re always trying to push something on me without bargaining. My old school trick was to put $5 in my wallet and show the guy that was all I had. More often than not, he buckled and took it. Pretty much comic book retailers will take every red cent from you just to dump a book in your lap. I did however, talk to one creator, Sarah Glidden author of How to Understand Israel in 60 Days or Less. I introduced myself and said, I really liked her speech at the DC Vertigo Panel, by far the only panel where every seat was filled. I gave her $3 for an excerpt and she nervously handed me back $6. I advised might want to hire an accountant to handle your money. Bought her book how to understand Israel in 60 days or less at NY Comic Con. I told her how much I admired her for not only telling a great story but also admitting that she didn’t know shit about Israel and the other half about being “selectively” Jewish outside of a few extra handy holidays they’d like off. It was unique to converse with a female artist/writer who did her work by hand on a journalist/memoir kind of commentary about what an American knows collides with the grim realities of the world. Kind of like when Obama was elected to be the anti-Bush and then re-instituted the same policies as Bush including extending Gitmo, I imagined some NSA guy opening the big book of reality and his face knowing fear. Suddenly all the talk, means nothing. Survival takes precedence. Her next book will be about Refugees from North Iraq in Syria. Looking forward to it.

1330 Enterprising Will Eisner Panel with Jules Feiffer (Village Voice Editoral Cartoonist), Denis Kitchen (Kitchen Sink Press), and Paul Levitz (Legion of Superheroes, former DC President)

Living in a time when business doesn’t even know a thing about business. The way to make a zillion dollars off traditional syndicated strips are over. Must know how it applies in order to be a comic strip artist.-Jules Feiffer

Sitting in a room less than 10 feet away from a bunch of guys who pioneered the comic book industry, I felt humbled by the brutal honesty that these madmen delivered their thoughts on the Will Eisner way and a career in the funny books. The Will Eisner way was pretty much being a better business man than an artist. This is a concept that Picasso often spoke about. Loved the memories of working for Will Eisner who never spent any money on his studio except when a light bulb burned out. The panelists also spoke about recognition and that artists shouldn’t think this was the industry to get famous or expect a great living. It took Will Eisner 30 years for him to sniff some measure of recognition. While more people celebrate his work more now than ever, keep in mind what I said about Ayn Rand in the Fountainhead. Artists being famous long after they are gone.

1430 Pizza Island Studio Panel with Lisa Hanawalt, Sarah Glidden, Kate Beaton, Meredith Gran, Julie Wertz, and some French girl

It’s rare to have a panel with more than 1-2 female comic book creators together. It’s considered a phenomena to have an entire panel full of young female creators. It didn’t take long for the girls to figure out that pictures of their studio were a little too precious for a panel. This was one of the few panels that asked some really great questions. Many of these girls worked either as a secretary or in media after college. None of them followed mainstream American comic books. Most of them preferred fine art. That was interesting because almost all of them have a very cartoonist look about them. One of them was dropped by their publisher and might give up being a comic book creator if she doesn’t find work soon. Another mentioned that sometimes you’ll have to buy back your rights to your book in order to promote it better before re-selling it back to the publisher. None of them collaborate with each other at their studio. None of them party. Loneliness is the Long Distance Runner in this industry. Creators have colleagues but they wear many hats. Lastly, only the Canadian artist said she would stay in NYC. Affordability has its virtue especially with the internet.

 

15:30 The New Yorker Panel

This was a pretty entertaining panel in that each comic strip artist got to share samples of their work and their demented humor. I think these cats pretty much were happy to work for the New Yorker. One, it was steady salary. Two, it was steady salary. I think one of the panelists took over 700 submissions to finally get a strip published by the New Yorker. I found it interesting that some of the work not published due to its content did not include the controversial image of Barak Obama and his wife. Guess every one has their own taste including the editor in chief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1630 World War Three Panel

Here’s my problem with activist comic book creators, they are about as manipulative and one sided as the establishment they create. So while WW3 invokes Daumier, the Masses, and other socio-political issues. art and politics, propaganda  they forget to mention how activists unfairly pick their battles. Reckless images don’t tell the whole story but elicit a response. Any human being will elicit an emotional response upon seeing an image of a homeless black man on the street as a white man in a business suit walks by. That says nothing of the situation of class warfare, misplaced spending, etc. It’s a mean spirited way to symbolize a villain. Noting no criticism of Clinton’s banking policy leading to the housing market crash or Obama adopting Bush’s foreign policies. Every slide except 2 were personal criticisms of Reagan and Bush. While it’s deserving, I still didn’t understand what Peter Kuper meant when he said, oh we criticize indiscriminately. Really? Could have fooled me. At least half these guys, said “luck..” to ambitious artists trying to make their way in the world today.

For me, that was the best advice given at MoCCA 2011 where the place of art is uncertain in the midst of movies, and circus conventions threatening to blot it out.

 

 

Cheers,

Ron