This is a comic book, and one of those titles you pick up just because it makes you giggle. Pinocchio, naive little wooden puppet, a vampire slayer? Surely you kid, world. Even while tittering at the title, I looked at the decidedly gruesome, if cartoonish, cover art with a feeling of apprehension. Dusty Higgins--the artist--implies with his frontispiece a story grim and dour. The paradox fascinated me.
The book starts with a quick summary of the Pinocchio story. It's the old, familiar tale, told in stick figure cartoons. However, it's presented with emphasis on details that make the title believable by the end of the summary. Then it launches into the dark, black and white world of Pinocchio, Vampire Slayer, with a slaying right off the bat, and it becomes clear that Pinocchio is the ideal vampire slayer. He tells a lie, and he's got a stake for himself right there. Works out perfectly.
The irony and paradox in the story is constant, and forever hilarious. It's a quick little read, and I recommend it.
Showing posts with label comic books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comic books. Show all posts
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Review: Swamp Thing: The Saga of the Swamp Thing, by Alan Moore
In 1983, DC decided to assign the title Swamp Thing, a then old title, to now-known-to-be-insane writer, Alan Moore. What Alan Moore produced revolutionized comics as a format for horror. My dad tells this story about the Batman movie that Tim Burton made: Batman, he says, was the first movie to "take the comic book genre seriously." Before Batman there were comic book movies. But they were told as melodramatic sob stories, that could as easily have had no superheroes in them. Batman, he says, gave a superhero doing superhero stuff.
As I understand it, Alan Moore's Swamp Thing did a similar thing for comic books. Alan Moore's Swamp Thing was the first comic book, I am told, to allow comic books to be considered in the literary genre--especially the literary genre of horror, in Swamp Thing's case. Prior to it, comics were one thing, and literature was another. Alan Moore helped with Swamp Thing to blur the lines.
Good for him.
If you like a cunningly written story that makes you think in puzzling terms, pick up this one. It's peculiar and interesting, each issue is well structured. It fails in terms of long-term impetus, I think. The largest questions about the character of Swamp Thing himself are answered reasonably quickly, it seems, so conflicts have to come to Swamp Thing. Swamp Thing himself produces little to no conflict. In that way it falls short. I liked reading this volume--the first volume in the run of anthologies of Alan Moore's retelling of Swamp Thing. It left me content, though. The ending of the anthology satisfied me, leaving no mysteries unsolved, no conflict unresolved. The world was at balance.
I view Swamp Thing as a piece of history, beautifully constructed. A museum piece, if you will, if an enjoyable one. It's a good thing to read and understand...but there's better entertainment out there. I feel bad saying that, since it is Alan Moore, and his story-telling never fails in Swamp Thing. Still, he's written more gripping things.
His intent may have been different in Swamp Thing, however. That's something to consider.
As I understand it, Alan Moore's Swamp Thing did a similar thing for comic books. Alan Moore's Swamp Thing was the first comic book, I am told, to allow comic books to be considered in the literary genre--especially the literary genre of horror, in Swamp Thing's case. Prior to it, comics were one thing, and literature was another. Alan Moore helped with Swamp Thing to blur the lines.
Good for him.
If you like a cunningly written story that makes you think in puzzling terms, pick up this one. It's peculiar and interesting, each issue is well structured. It fails in terms of long-term impetus, I think. The largest questions about the character of Swamp Thing himself are answered reasonably quickly, it seems, so conflicts have to come to Swamp Thing. Swamp Thing himself produces little to no conflict. In that way it falls short. I liked reading this volume--the first volume in the run of anthologies of Alan Moore's retelling of Swamp Thing. It left me content, though. The ending of the anthology satisfied me, leaving no mysteries unsolved, no conflict unresolved. The world was at balance.
I view Swamp Thing as a piece of history, beautifully constructed. A museum piece, if you will, if an enjoyable one. It's a good thing to read and understand...but there's better entertainment out there. I feel bad saying that, since it is Alan Moore, and his story-telling never fails in Swamp Thing. Still, he's written more gripping things.
His intent may have been different in Swamp Thing, however. That's something to consider.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Comic Book Review: Spawn
I read volume one of the Spawn anthologies. I've been meaning to read the Spawn books ever since the movie killed my soul. I have a history with the character Spawn, going way back before I read him or saw him or anything.
The movie came out when I was thirteen, and one of my buddies became immediately obsessed with the character. I liked this kid, and I've always had a bit of a follower psychology, so I decided to be obsessed with this movie as well, even though I knew nothing about it. Somehow I found a poster or saw a preview for it after that, though, and thusly saw the look, felt the attitude, of the character Hellspawn. That masked face and impossible cape and green eyes lodged in my head, like the shading of a really good ghost story. It impacted my imaginings and my creativity, and much of my writing secretly had a few drops of an idealized Hellspawn in it, because I never saw the movie when it was released, and never knew it was a comic book.
Years passed, and Spawn lurched around the back of my head, till finally I was driven to wikipedia. I read about Spawn, and the Violator, and the world Todd McFarlane invented. The art impressed me, the stories intrigued me, and the fact that the whole thing was a comic book first totally took me by surprise. I got the movie and watched it, and it did, in fact, shatter some of my childhood dreams. Completely obnoxious.
It discouraged me. Thus I failed to speedily procure the comic book.
Several years passed. I had many adventures, and eventually found my lady love. Among her many charms is a picky love of comic books. She loves Todd McFarlane, especially, and I trust her taste, except in liking me. Spawn's been reintroduced to me as a literary pursuit to consider.
The other day, I saw volumes one, three, and four of Spawn anthologies at the library. On an impulse, I grabbed volume one and checked it out. I read it fast, and these are my impressions:
The characters are great, the world is great, the situations are provocative, the art is as pretty a comic book art as you'd want. It's a good book for the reading. It ought to have movied up something gorgeous. Stupid, careless movie mongers, mutilizing it.
I found the overall plot of the anthology irritatingly vague and diffuse, and the story from issue to issue moves more slowly than I'd like. Each issue has fewer revelations than I'd write into them, which is one reason why it ought to have movied up gorgeously. What ought to have happened is a streamlining of the story, so the important bits were emphasized, and the world was made more smelly, and the repetition was repeated less. The movie ought to have been good. I'm frustrated with the hosers who messed up Spawn the movie.
Overall, I like Spawn. I'll read the next anthology. I want more of this world. Todd McFarlane wins.
The movie came out when I was thirteen, and one of my buddies became immediately obsessed with the character. I liked this kid, and I've always had a bit of a follower psychology, so I decided to be obsessed with this movie as well, even though I knew nothing about it. Somehow I found a poster or saw a preview for it after that, though, and thusly saw the look, felt the attitude, of the character Hellspawn. That masked face and impossible cape and green eyes lodged in my head, like the shading of a really good ghost story. It impacted my imaginings and my creativity, and much of my writing secretly had a few drops of an idealized Hellspawn in it, because I never saw the movie when it was released, and never knew it was a comic book.
Years passed, and Spawn lurched around the back of my head, till finally I was driven to wikipedia. I read about Spawn, and the Violator, and the world Todd McFarlane invented. The art impressed me, the stories intrigued me, and the fact that the whole thing was a comic book first totally took me by surprise. I got the movie and watched it, and it did, in fact, shatter some of my childhood dreams. Completely obnoxious.
It discouraged me. Thus I failed to speedily procure the comic book.
Several years passed. I had many adventures, and eventually found my lady love. Among her many charms is a picky love of comic books. She loves Todd McFarlane, especially, and I trust her taste, except in liking me. Spawn's been reintroduced to me as a literary pursuit to consider.
The other day, I saw volumes one, three, and four of Spawn anthologies at the library. On an impulse, I grabbed volume one and checked it out. I read it fast, and these are my impressions:
The characters are great, the world is great, the situations are provocative, the art is as pretty a comic book art as you'd want. It's a good book for the reading. It ought to have movied up something gorgeous. Stupid, careless movie mongers, mutilizing it.
I found the overall plot of the anthology irritatingly vague and diffuse, and the story from issue to issue moves more slowly than I'd like. Each issue has fewer revelations than I'd write into them, which is one reason why it ought to have movied up gorgeously. What ought to have happened is a streamlining of the story, so the important bits were emphasized, and the world was made more smelly, and the repetition was repeated less. The movie ought to have been good. I'm frustrated with the hosers who messed up Spawn the movie.
Overall, I like Spawn. I'll read the next anthology. I want more of this world. Todd McFarlane wins.
Monday, April 04, 2011
Comic Book Review: X-Men: Apocalypse vs. Dracula
Not much to say about this. I got it because the title made me chuckle. It's a four part mini-saga, about the X-Men mega villain Apocalypse having an epic clash with Brom Stoker's Dracula. Van Helsing makes an appearance, and there are numerous references to Apocalypse' cult following, and how it works. A fun little read.
The most interesting thing about this book were the thoughts I had about the character of Apocalypse. I like X-Men, but I've never read any of the Apocalypse stuff. I've heard of Apocalypse, and read about him and what his part in the X-Men universe is, and I've studied Machiavelli and villains and rulers and world changing people. Being familiar with all these things I had formed an idea what Apocalypse' character was like. I figured he'd be cold, calculating, patient, probably soft-spoken. A villain as larger-than-life as I'd seen Apocalypse to be, in the context of what I decided he needed to be, led me to form that picture.This book shattered that view. Apocalypse was a loud, short-tempered firebrand. I was disappointed by his character.Except in one moment: Near the end, the vampire army was descending to kill everyone, all the few survivors on Apocalypse' side were in a shack barricading every cranny and fearing the night, yearning for the dawn. In that moment, Apocalypse sat outside, cross-legged and waiting for the fight. He'd taken it personally, and he was going to deal with it personally by damn. That was interesting.Mostly, this is a hilarious read.
The most interesting thing about this book were the thoughts I had about the character of Apocalypse. I like X-Men, but I've never read any of the Apocalypse stuff. I've heard of Apocalypse, and read about him and what his part in the X-Men universe is, and I've studied Machiavelli and villains and rulers and world changing people. Being familiar with all these things I had formed an idea what Apocalypse' character was like. I figured he'd be cold, calculating, patient, probably soft-spoken. A villain as larger-than-life as I'd seen Apocalypse to be, in the context of what I decided he needed to be, led me to form that picture.This book shattered that view. Apocalypse was a loud, short-tempered firebrand. I was disappointed by his character.Except in one moment: Near the end, the vampire army was descending to kill everyone, all the few survivors on Apocalypse' side were in a shack barricading every cranny and fearing the night, yearning for the dawn. In that moment, Apocalypse sat outside, cross-legged and waiting for the fight. He'd taken it personally, and he was going to deal with it personally by damn. That was interesting.Mostly, this is a hilarious read.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Why I dislike Harley Quinn
The Joker should not be humanized. If you give the Joker a girlfriend, what does that tell people? He can carry on relationships with people, just like anyone else. Additionally, it gives him someone to talk to, to bounce ideas off of, to explain things to, and to just generally have conversations with. More normal activities.
Joker isn't, and shouldn't be, normal. To relate to Joker is to fear him less. To fear him less is to respect Batman less. To respect Batman less is to fear Joker less. Before you know it, we find ourselves once again in the sixties.
Joker is scary, and shouldn't have a girlfriend. He should talk to himself, he should be unable and unwilling to have working relationships with other people. We should be entirely unable to relate to Joker.
One time, Marvel and DC had a huge, tag-team, cross-over bash. Superman hung out with Captain America, all kinds of stuff like that. In this cross-over, Joker knew something was amok. No one else did.
One time, Batman was unconscious at Joker's feet, and Joker could have unmasked him and discovered who he was. But Joker said, no, I shan't. If I do, what purpose will I have?
We should not understand Joker.
Therefore, I don't like Harley Quinn.
Joker isn't, and shouldn't be, normal. To relate to Joker is to fear him less. To fear him less is to respect Batman less. To respect Batman less is to fear Joker less. Before you know it, we find ourselves once again in the sixties.
Joker is scary, and shouldn't have a girlfriend. He should talk to himself, he should be unable and unwilling to have working relationships with other people. We should be entirely unable to relate to Joker.
One time, Marvel and DC had a huge, tag-team, cross-over bash. Superman hung out with Captain America, all kinds of stuff like that. In this cross-over, Joker knew something was amok. No one else did.
One time, Batman was unconscious at Joker's feet, and Joker could have unmasked him and discovered who he was. But Joker said, no, I shan't. If I do, what purpose will I have?
We should not understand Joker.
Therefore, I don't like Harley Quinn.
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