They takeLOST really seriously over here. Season 5 premiered on the 21st in the US, but it doesn’t premiere until the 25th here in the UK (thanks Sky1). I had resigned myself to wait until Sunday, but the island has been taunting me relentlessly with billboards like this one around London.
Thanks to Christopher Hester for the photo. I couldn’t find it anywhere else on the internet, and every time I’ve seen the billboard (“advert” to the locals) from the bus, I haven’t had my camera handy.
Unfortunately, I never got around to growing my pre-season solidarity beard for Jack. Oh well. I’ll cheer myself up with jackface.com.
With the recent explosion of “serious” film adaptions of graphic novels, Hollywood* has discovered (better late than never) an untapped well of material that, in the hands of capable directors, can be turned into a critically and financially successful franchises. So far, Frank Miller‘s Sin City (really, the film that kick-started this phenomenon) and 300 have been adapted to film in a strict panel-to-frame fashion, allowing the directors – Robert Rodriguez (with Frank Miller himself) and Zack Snyder, respectively – to maintain an almost exhaustive degree of fidelity to the original work. In these examples, the comic is essentially the film’s storyboard. On March 6th, Alan Moore‘s 1986 graphic novel Watchmen, again adapted by Snyder, will be released in theaters. Now, it’s only a matter of time before Hollywood adapts the other** 1986 graphic novel that helped revolutionize (and bring more critical respect to) the comic medium to this day: Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns.
The Dark Knight Returns is without a doubt my favorite graphic novel of all time. And while Miller’s work has taken a nose-dive since Sin City (seriously, the dialogue in All Star Batman and Robin sounds like a seventh-grader wrote it, as you will see below), his writing and artwork in DKR is, in my opinion, the best example of the popular Comic’s (big “C”) potential as a storytelling medium.*** In a nutshell, DKR takes place twenty years in the future. Batman, who at this point is in his fifties, comes out of retirement to clean up a Gotham City in which criminals freely roam the streets and politician wallow in corruption. Basically it works as a commentary on society, violence, and the media in the mid-eighties (and, I guess, today).
But we’re not talking about that right now. Recently, I read on Slash-Film about the possibility of Snyder (again) adapting DKR to film:
At the [2008 Comic-Con] Watchmen panel, Zack Snyder expressed his love for Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns, in response to a question about the more mature direction of comic book adaptations.
“There are a lot of other graphic novels out there, but I would love to see Frank Miller’s Dark Knight made into a movie, but that’s just me.”
Later at the Entertainment Weekly Visionaries panel, Frank Miller told Snyder “You can do it anytime you want to Zack”. To which Snyder said he was making a note of Miller’s response. [Full article]
I’m not saying whether or not it should be made into a movie, even if the more-than-capable Snyder wound up directing it. After all, Christopher Nolan has a very good thing going with his Batman franchise.**** But if it were to be made, there’s only one man that should – hell, can – be considered for the roll of the aging Batman. This guy:
Clint Eastwood. If you’re asking why (which you shouldn’t be), here are four reasons for you.
Batman is the most bad-ass character ever. It’s only fitting that the most bad-ass actor ever should play him.
Eastwood already has experienced portraying the second- and third-most hardcore vigilantes in the fictional world (Dirty Harry and The Man With No Name – you can decide who gets which spot). Nowhere to go but up.
The part was practically made for him. It’s explicitly stated in All Star Batman and Robin (which shares narrative continuity with the rest of Miller’s Batman stories, including DKR) that when speaking as Batman, Bruce Wayne imitates Clint Eastwood:
Why get an actor to imitate Clint Eastwood when we can get the gravel-voiced god himself? Christian Bale is universally revered for his portrayal as Batman, even though his Batman-voice leaves something to be desired (a dramatic line that doesn’t leave the audience snickering when it’s spoken?). Now imagine if we can get the award-winning actor, still in his prime (just today I saw that he won the Chicago Film Critics Association Award for Best Actor in Grand Torino and there’s talk of a best-actor Oscar nomination), to deliver those lines about hockey-pads (or the lack of) and fireworks (again, the lack of) in his trademark voice, we would have the Dark Knight-incarnate captured on film.
The mask would only make his sneer look even meaner.
Of course, there are a few incongruities inherent with my proposal. First, the Batman in DKR is in his mid-fifties. Eastwood, on the other hand, is in his late seventies (seventy-eight to be exact). This problem can be solved by simply ignoring it. I dare you to find me another fifty-year-old that kicks as much ass as he does on a regular basis (Blood Work, anyone?). Second, Batman (especially Miller’s version) is huge, physically. Eastwood has always been a pretty skinny guy (apparent in the weirdly-common bathtub scenes in his Westerns – a scene in High Plains Driftercomes to mind), but if Bale could pull it off just months after filming The Machinist (Google Image Search it), Eastwood should be able to.
Eastwood has made is clear that he won’t retire from acting any time soon, as long as the role he takes on gives him “a hurdle to get over.” Taking on the role of the one of the greatest heroes in the last century would provide just that challenge. And the best part is, if the fan boys don’t like it, he’ll respond the same way he would if Michael Moore came to his door with a camera: Squint and whisper, “I’ll kill you.” True story (Google it).
* One of my favorite synechdoches.
** For the uninitiated, 1986 is seen as a sort of Renaissance for the comic medium. That year, Frank Miller released The Dark Knight Returns and Alan Moore released Watchmen (the twelve-issue series finished some time in 1987). These books (with the help of Art Spiegelman’s Maus, which started in 1977) changed the public perception of comic books, and critics began taking the medium seriously as a legitimate art form. For example, Watchmen is on Time Magazine’s list of the 100 best novels, and Stephen King referred to DKR as “the finest piece of comic art published in popular edition.” One of the reasons for this was the adult content present in the books. Cold War politics, nuclear war, and the media’s effect on society are thematic elements in both works, not to mention the graphic violence and sexuality depicted (all to make a point of course) made the comics for a decidedly mature audience. These authors had moved their comics into high art. Unfortunately, this meant that the decade of Generation X comics that followed would try to imitate their “grim and gritty“-ness and, of course, leave out the self-consciousness and the post-modernism that made Watchmen and DKR such substantive and provocative works (think Spawn).
*** This is definitely a point of contention when I talk to other comic fans. I want to make it clear that I think Watchmen is undeniably a grander achievement than DKR as well as a better work. Watchmen‘s plot, along with Dave Gibbons‘ artwork, took the comic medium to a level that it had never been before (and has yet to go again). To put it simply, it’s deeper, more carefully constructed, and smarter than any “book” or movie that I’ve ever read. And it’s a good story. But when it comes down to it, I think DKR is a better example of how dynamic and effective comics can be in telling stories. Miller’s artwork isn’t constrained to a 3 x 3 panel scheme like Gibbons’ (which is probably my least favorite part of Watchmen) and makes it more interesting visually, as a result. Miller’s graphic elements, like panels shaped as otomotopea, reduce the seperation between text and image, making for a better-executed Comic (big “C” again). Comic scholar Hillary Chute talks about conflicting “flows” when reading comics, in that you read (and process) a comic at two speeds: quickly for the images, and slowly for the text. In addition to the text/graphic tricks Miller employs, DKR‘s plot is just complex enough not to require the reader to labor over a panel as the imagery is simultaneously commanding him or her to move on to the next , as Watchmen does. In other words, the two reading speeds of DKR are closer to one another, which gives the book a better narrative flow. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with the way Watchmen does things. It’s enjoyable and rewarding to dig deep into the narrative and wrap your head around the complex world that Moore has crafted (not to mention finding all of the hidden symbols and meanings in each of Gibbons’ panels). But if we’re talking about Comics as an idea(l), I think DKR represents that better.
**** The trend towards realism in Nolan’s movies is what makes them so successful. The Dark Knight was so much better than Batman Begins because there were almost no “fantastic” elements. Gimmicks like a microwave weapon, the monorail, and the narrows were thankfully absent from the sequel (which really just took place in a Chicago populated by Batman, the Joker, and Harvey Dent). When The Dark Knight did have anything that might be too sci-fi (like the Batpod), it was worth it, and rare enough to not feel like overkill. Care would have to be taken in adapting DKR in order to balance the realism that works so well with the clearly superhuman and sci-fi elements of the comic. I would take a cue from Blade Runner or Aliens – dark atmospheres that are clearly futuristic, while unabashedly incorporating anachronisms into the environments. Or just see how Watchmen fares and sign Snyder up to make a shot-for-shot adaptation like he usually does.
***** I should also mention that I think Bale rocks, and you couldn’t ask for a better Batman (unless, you know, it’s Eastwood). No disrespect, Mr. Bale (after all, I do have a cardboard cut out of you in my room).
I’ll leave you with these two gems (you can start at :57 mark on the second video, but watch all of the first, it’s worth it):
Every year for Christmas, my brother Tyler and I try to outdo each other when it comes to wrapping our gifts. For example, one year I hid my brother’s present in a Barbie doll box. Last year, he wrapped my present into one big Russian doll by hiding it within six other boxes. This year, my brother started off the season strong, by putting a large, flat gift covered in brown paper under the tree. Thinking he had to “decorate somehow, I guess” (his words) the package, he drew Highlights-style kids’ puzzles all over its face. Of course, being Tyler, the puzzles had a sarcastic twist.
That’s right. A cardboard cutout of Batman. Ready to look totally badass and maybe scare me when I wake up in the middle of the night and see him looming over me.
Not to be outdone by my brother, upon seeing his creation I immediately set out to make my own harassing gift. Instead of simply wrapping the Speed Racer DVD I was intending to give him, I made my own copy of Alvin and the Chipmunks by taking an old DVD case and, with the help of Photoshop and a Ukrainian bootlegging website, made a cover for it. Inside, I put a note that said something to the effect of: “Haha, just kidding. Your present’s actually hidden out back in the snow. Find it.” Here’s how the DVD case turned out:
The image I used for the back of the case can be found on that ever-so-helpful Ukrainian website, here. The look on Tyler’s face was priceless. He clearly hated it, but, not knowing if the gift was sincere or not, didn’t say anything except, “Thank you,” and a half-joking, “I hate you.” That’s getting into the Christmas spirit.
Being the Christmas season, holiday movies have flooded the television. I don’t mind them for the most part, and I usually just wind up skipping them and heading over to Cartoon Network. However, I have a huge, and very specific problem with one Christmas movie in particular: It’s a Wonderful Life, perhaps the prototypical (and maybe even the oldest) holiday movie. Starring the obnoxiously-voiced Jimmy Stewart, It’s a Wonderful Life was released in 1946, and has since then been in regular rotation on the networks each year starting the day after Thanksgiving. Even if you haven’t seen it, you know the basic plot. It’s been parodied countless times in other movies and TV shows (I can remember one episode* of Nickelodeon’s Rugrats in particular). What I didn’t know was the the whole suicide/angel-convinces-him-otherwise plot only takes place in the last fifteen minutes of the agonizingly-long movie. But that’s not what bothers me (well, maybe a little). What really bothers me is the fim’s second-most-famous plot device, annoyingly delivered by Jimmy Stewart’s daughter at the very end of the story: “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.” I don’t care at all about whatever religiosity the statement carries, I just care that the writers obviously didn’t take an extra two seconds to do some math before finalizing the script. The first thing to remember is that humans can ring bells. The belltower doesn’t ring on the hour thanks to divine intervention – it rings thanks to Quasimodo. So, if an angel gets its wings whenever a human rings a bell, it has some pretty serious implications about the metaphysical world of It’s a Wonderful Life. What happens if a human rings a bell more than 7 billion times? Francis the angel explained that he could only get his wings once he successfully helped Jimmy Stewart’s character (he would move up from a Second- to a First-Class angel, to be precise). If an angel only advances by helping a human, it’s safe to assume that there are fewer angels than humans (you’ll see why in a few seconds). If someone rings a bell 7 billion times, that means every angel has gotten their wings, and they have no more reason to help us lowly humans. That sucks. Of course, that’s assuming we know how many angels there are. Which, of course, we do. Francis, was once a human living in the time of Mark Twain. If angels are dead people, all someone would have to do is ring a bell more times than there are (or were) dead people (which is less than 7 billion people) and every angel would get their wings. What does this mean? Well, angels don’t need to help the Jimmy Stewarts of the world anymore. But more importantly, if there are no more angels to get their wings, what happens when someone rings a bell? Or for that matter, will we even be able to ring a bell? Can humans even be trusted with this kind of responsibility?Will our universe implode? Will our reality shatter under the weight of this unsolved dilemma? I need to know. Frank Capra needs to explain this stuff to me because it keeps me up at night. Or maybe he doesn’t because it’s a dumb movie about a loud guy who doesn’t realize that there are other people in the world.
Here are some holiday movies that rule:
Die Hard (1988). The greatest action movie ever also happens to take place on Christmas Eve, placing it squarely in the Christmas Movie genre.
The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992). Sure, as a kid I enjoyed it for Gonzo and the ever-patriotic Sam Eagleton. Now, I enjoy it for this guy:
Finally, even though it’s not a movie per se. I still love the early nineties Batman Animated Series holiday episode “Christmas With the Joker,” collected in all three parts for your viewing enjoyment below (Youtube).
* “Chuckie’s Wonderful Life” (1994)
** Coincidentally (or maybe appropriately), this post had 666 words in it, not including this sentence or the following.
*** Other titles included “It’s a Wonderful Li(f)e” and “How Sir Michael Caine Saved Christmas”
**** Because I couldn’t choose between bad-ass pictures of Michael Caine:
Can't Stop, Addicted to the Shindig 