GEEK SCREENING ROOM presents TRADING PLACES

With a plot lifted from The Three Stooges Hoi Polloi, the film initially was intended to be a vehicle for Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor (with G. Gordon Liddy as Clarence Beaks) before Pryor dropped out. Eddie Murphy championed for Wilder's recasting to avoid Pryor comparisons.

The movie is one of my favorites and cements director Landis as one of the most influential filmmaker's of the Eighties (most directors are lucky to have two or three memorable movies in their filmography. Landis, in my opinion has eight, with An American Werewolf in London, Animal House, The Blues Brothers, The Kentucky Fried Movie, Trading Places, Into the Night, ¡Three Amigos!, and Spies Like Us.)

And, he redefined the potential of the music video with Michael Jackson's Thriller.

Trading Places is a funny movie mixed with social commentary on class (reminiscent of My Man Godfrey) and deserves to be considered a modern treasure.

Oh, and if you are already a fan, check out this neat link which explains how Winthorpe and Valentine pulled it off. See you next Wednesday.

Produced by George Folsey Jr., Aaron Russo,
Irwin Russo, Sam Williams
Written by Timothy Harris, Herschel Weingrod
Directed by John Landis
Starring Dan Aykroyd, Eddie Murphy, Ralph Bellamy, Don Ameche,
Denholm Elliott, Kristin Holby, Paul Gleason and Jamie Lee Curtis
with Alfred Drake, Bo Diddley, Frank Oz, James Belushi, Al Franken
and Tom Davis

THE LOSERS Gets A Trailer

It looks fun.

Are there any actors yet that haven't appeared in a comic book property?

Seriously.

PEE WEE HERMAN Gets An iPad!

Spoilers Ahead! First Four Minutes Of LOST Season 6 Premiere

Heroes, Villains and Ant Babies

Man, isn't FX's new series Archer hysterical?

For 1.8 million viewers, the answer is yes.

That's the figure pulled by the series premiere of Archer.

The show has been lauded by critics for its clever blend of spy satire and workplace comedy, as well as its sharp (if often lewd) dialogue and top-notch voice cast.


Yet, while Archer is enjoying the accolades today, it's important to remember its predecessor, a show that brought a similar skewed sensibility to the superhero cartoon.

No one who watched Frisky Dingo will ever forget it.



Created by Archer's Adam Reed and Matt Thompson, Frisky Dingo revolved around the battle between hulking albino alien Killface (voiced by Reed) and billionaire armored hero Awesome-X (also voiced by Reed). Killface has plans to use his superweapon, the Annihilatrix, to push the Earth into the sun, but he's blown his twenty billion dollar budget on the device's construction. Lack of funds and inept subordinates hamper his intended campaign to promote his fiendish plot, until he's noticed by Awesome-X.



X is the masked and armored identity of Xander Crews, billionaire playboy and owner of Crews Enterprises. Along with his private army, the Xtacles, Awesome-X defeats every last known supervillain on the planet. After unwittingly making himself obsolete, Crews is dismayed to learn from his right hand, Stan, that he's expected to retire his superhero identity and devote himself entirely to running the company. Worse, he's paralyzed with fear at the prospect of having to settle down with his beautiful, but clingy girlfriend, TV reporter Grace Ryan.



That's why he's excited to see Killface trying to shill his doomsday plan on daytime talk shows. He decides he can use Killface to renew his superhero career, as well as his action figure line. But the unexpectedly urbane and comically neurotic Killface has other ideas, and their ensuing pas de deux spirals increasingly out of control, dragging the rest of the cast into a hellish parade of humiliation and death.

At first glance, it's the sort of show that Adult Swim originally made its name with, dialogue-heavy comedies featuring characters and situations subverting their simple Saturday morning origins to display alarming and perverse new dimensions. Reed and Thompson themselves fed into this with their first Adult Swim series, Sealab 2021. But Frisky Dingo goes further, with a mix of mundanity and gore that would be horrifying if it weren't a comedy. It plays more like the bastard child of Stan Lee and Larry David, godfathered by Sam Peckinpah.

While mostly inspired and hilarious at best, the first season has some uneven stretches (including a bizarre storyline where a disgused Crews becomes a blinded Killface's best friend). But then, there's a positively earth-shattering cliffhanger, leading into season two.

While saying as little as I can to spoil the end of the first season, the second jumps ahead to find Killface the Democratic nominee for President of the United States. Crews, having regrouped since the end of the first season, throws his hat into the ring as a Republican candidate. It may sound strange, but that role reversal is key to the show's humor.


After all, Killface is the more sympathetic of the two. Despite his apparent need to destroy the Earth, he has a dry, urbane wit which he uses to enhance his relationship with his employees and the press. He's also a single father, raising the troubled and often misunderstood (mostly because he mumbles) Simon. Xander Crews, on the other hand, is arrogant, wasteful, lecherous, stupid, selfish, and quite mean. Whereas Killface is doting and paternal (if sadistic and murderous), Xander hunts pandas, bails from a crashing plane with his girlfriend presumably still aboard, and in one of the series' most improbably batshit moments, he kills one of his Xtacles with a chainsaw under the mistaken belief that his loyal armored commandos are really alien robots.

Frisky Dingo's second season brings increased airtime for supporting characters such as Ta'quil, a controversial rapper who becomes Killface's reluctant running mate, Dottie, Killface's exasperated and oversexed campaign manager, and Mr. Ford, a man about town who becomes Killface's polling consultant. (Mr. Ford, as himself, is my favorite character, whose crude and quite frankly brilliant outbursts punctuate any scene he's in.)



The show is reformatted for that second season into a fever dream of a political satire. Issues such as the environment, race, sexuality and religion are less skewered than they are repeatedly impaled. (The first season actually tackled health care in an episode.) And yet the show, which made it a point to leap over the edge every week, always did so with love. Killface truly is a sympathetic character, and even Xander has a sort of pathetic, childlike appeal.


And yet, the show wasn't able to find enough of a foothold to stick around longer, despite another cliffhanger ending. Instead, Reed and Thompson launched a spinoff series about the Xtacles, which ran two episodes (both aired in one night). Cartoon Network didn't help matters, in my opinion, by releasing barebones DVDs of the series, devoid of the unique and entertaining extras Adult Swim fans have come to expect.

But now we have Archer, and if the first few episodes are any indication, we're in for something special. Even still, it's good to go back and watch Frisky Dingo, not only to see the evolution of Adam Reed's style, but also because it's simply a lot of fun.

Up Yours...With People

In 1982 I witnessed the most horrifying spectacle ever to grace a stage and have since been marked by the memory in such a way that I am incapable of being truly happy even today.

I am referring to my experience with an Up With People concert, and trust me, once you hear this tale you will be provided with enough nightmare fuel to last a thousand nights. I’m not even slightly kidding.

Here we go:


Imagine yourself as a typical 8-year-old in the early 80s. Your life up to this point has revolved pretty much around Saturday morning cartoons, riding your bike, and Atari worship. You have a pretty good grasp on your world. Everything is copacetic. That is until your mother informs you that you will be attending a concert featuring a group you know nothing about.

Mom: “We’re going to a concert on Friday.”

You: “Who is it?”

Mom: “Some group called Up With People. The tickets were free at work.”

(Free tickets are never a good sign – a fact that Mom should’ve been aware of had she not actually enjoyed torturing her children)

You: “What do they sing?”

Mom: “I don’t know, who cares, the tickets were free.”

At school the following day gossip buzzes about the free concert in town. One of your fellow classmates makes an astute observation.

Smart kid: “You know, only the adults know who this group is.”

The kid is right. Something is very wrong. If adults are involved this means that the concert has to be some kind of learning experience, not an evening spent listening to covers of Destination Unknown or Gloria. Speculations run wild. A large percentage of your classmates have decided that the concert will feature anti-drug songs but a smaller, more imaginative group, believes that we all will be sacrificed to Satan. The second option seems more likely as your mother is in far too good of a mood lately.

The week squeaks by until the day of the concert. The student body of Newby Elementary school has grown quiet and sullen. The teachers comment about it to one another, worried.

Outside the classrooms, the sounds of mumbling are heard flowing down the corridors: I mean they can’t take me to the concert if I’m sick right? I just won’t go, they can’t make me. Our Father, who art in Heaven…

Fellow classmates have stopped making eye contact with one another, each of them retreating deep inside of themselves to find shelter. The blank stares of K through 6 are reminiscent of the death marches in Vietnam. The janitor, a veteran of that war, flashes back to his days in the jungle and vomits near the morning Kindergarten classroom. As he pours the sawdust over his spewed stomach contents, he meets the eye of a 1st grade boy. They share a moment of complete understanding before they boy enters his classroom. The janitor will never forget the fear in the boy’s eyes and will be haunted by the moment forever.

It is now time for the concert. Your mother dresses you in church clothes and reminds you to be on your best behavior.

You: “Wait, aren’t you going with me?”

Mom: “Oh no honey, you’re going with the rest of your class.”

You: “But you said WE were going.”

Mom: “Did I? I meant just you.”

Well, this is it, you think. This is how I die.

A large car pulls up and your mother ushers you outside.

Mom: “Have a good time.”

You look back over your shoulder as you make your way out to the death mobile. If you get through this you are definitely going to steal all the money out of her change jar.

Inside the car are four of your classmates, all dressed like you, shaking with fear.

Driver: “Everybody ready for some fun!”

No one says a word.

The concert is taking place at the local university’s theater. When you get out of the car you notice that all the other schools in town have dumped their students here as well. The shared sense of dread between everyone is palpable. Shuffling your feet, you make your way inside the theater.

Afterward:

The concert did not involve demons ripping your flesh from your bones, but it was pretty close. Apparently, Up With People is comprised of a large number of extremely peppy people, all for whom shame and embarrassment have no meaning; they sing and dance all without dropping a smile. The songs were trite. The costumes were subpar. And frankly, the whole thing reeked of Right-Wing propaganda. You are not amused, even though you are happy to be alive.

A sixth-grade girl that you have seen walking down the hall seems beyond help.

6th grader: “I don’t understand anything anymore…what was that? Am I being punished for something?”

She disappears into the crowd that is moving quickly toward the exits.

Near one of the doors a group of people, all wearing pastel colors, are hawking t-shirts and cassette tapes. One of them grabs your elbow and pulls you closer to the merchandise.

Hawker: “Don’t you want a t-shirt?”

You: “I’m eight. I don’t have money.”

Hawker: “I’m sure your parents gave you some.”

Behind the eyes of the Hawker you can see glowing red embers. You realize that you are looking into the soul of pure evil and need to get away.

You: “No, I’m sorry. We’re very, very, poor.”

The Hawker releases you and focuses instead on another victim. This one has their wallet out.

Back outside, you inhale deeply. The clean, fresh air is like a kiss. As the theater empties out, your car partners come over to you, happy to have the evening over with. The driver unlocks the car doors and everyone gets in. There is a moment where you wonder if you are safe when the driver asks if anyone wants ice cream, but the moment vanishes when your fellow concert victims shake their heads and ask to go home.

Reaching home has never felt better. Your mother, hearing the sound of the car door slamming closed, opens the front door and stands, silhouetted by the light of the living room lamp. You run to her. As she stoops down to hold you, you haul off and slap her face hard. She is shocked.

Mom: “What the F…”

You: “You can ground me forever, but we both know you deserved that.”

From behind you, cheering can be heard from inside the car.

Banished to your room, you sink into your bed and hope that the memory of tonight will disappear. As the dark unconsciousness begins to claim you, visions of peppy people flitter in and out of your brain. You hope that one day you will forget. But you never will… you never will.

The End.

If you are the kind of person who enjoys pain, I highly recommend Lee Storey’s documentary “Smile ‘Til It Hurts: The Up With People Story (http://smiletilithurts.blogspot.com/) which is an amazing flick making its way through the film festival circuit. Once you learn the history of the group, your faith in mankind will falter…at least it did for me. And, besides, I believe that knowing is half the battle.

The JUSTICE SOCIETY LIVES AGAIN and THE GEEK NEWS DU JOUR

GEEK NEWS

• Game Over: Inmate Can’t Play Dungeons & Dragons
• Internet-Inspired Tattoos
• The Curious Case of DC Universe Online
• Drive-In Movies HERE and HERE

BOOKS/COMICS

• How J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye Helped Create Young Adult Literature
• Rafael Grampá Discusses Mesmo Delivery
• To Succeed, iPad Must Revolutionize Reading. It Hasn't...Yet
• First Look At First Wave
• David Finch Talks Brightest Day

MOVIES/TELEVISION

• How A Sleeper Hit About Cheerleading Became A Direct-To-DVD Franchise.
• The Best Soundtrack, Scores & Music Moments of 2009
• Caprica Is New Again: Creator Talks Battlestar, A.I., Cheating Death
• 15 Weird Roles LOST's Actors Had Before They Became Stars
• Miramax Quietly Closes It's Doors
• The 15 Best Miramax Films
• David Fincher Developing Mind Hunter For HBO With Charlize Theron
• Leno/Oprah Transcript Reveal He's A Tool
• Still No Screen Tests For Holden Caufield
• Sixteen Recurring Characters That Should Return In LOST's The Final Season
• Joe Dirt Gets An Animated Series

ART/DESIGN

• The Meaning Of Color
• I Want All Of These Toys, Now All I Need Is Two Grand (Each).
• Jack Teagle's Awesome Pop Art
• Strange Tales Spotlight: Chip Kidd
• Coles Phillips Gallery

SCIENCE/TECHNOLOGY

• Apple Change Quietly Makes iPhone, iPad Into Web Phones
• Top 10 Reasons The Apple iPad Will Put Amazon’s Kindle Out Of Business
• Ten Things Missing From The iPad
• Insect Pics

EDGE OF DARKNESS (2010) Review

Directed by Martin Campbell

Produced by Graham King,
Tim Headington, Michael Wearing
Written by William Monahan and Andrew Bovell
Based on the series by Troy Kennedy Martin
Starring Mel Gibson, Ray Winstone, Danny Huston,
Bojana Novakovic,Shawn Roberts, Jay O. Sanders

Director Martin Campbell remakes his own 1985 BBC Series, Edge of Darkness, seamlessly transplanting the story from England to Boston. Mel Gibson gives a phenomenal performance as Detective Tom Craven, who witnesses his activist daughter’s murder and leads the investigation in her death, uncovering a deeply connected conspiracy between the government and a large corporation. Using a flawless Boston accent, Gibson plays the tortured father who solves his own issues with his late, estranged daughter with a focused investigation and later, mechanical revenge. A first-rate thriller, Edge of Darkness might not surprise you with where the film is headed, but how you get there is part of the well-crafted story.

Looking at Wordy Shipmates (With A Hint Of Game Changing)

One might ask why there are always new history books coming out.

I mean, hey, the facts don’t change.

Pilgrims landed in 1620. The Declaration of Independence was first signed in 1776. Abraham Lincoln was shot at Ford’s Theatre.

Why do publishers push out more books telling us what we already know?


It’s good that they do, because part of understanding the present is looking at where we came from. And you’re not going to get a good 21st century perspective on events from the 17th century by reading a work composed in the 19th or even 20th century.

No, the facts don’t change, but the lessons could be more germane and the insights more illuminating.


The Wordy Shipmates
by Sarah Vowell
Riverhead Trade
October, 2009

Take, for instance, The Wordy Shipmates by Sarah Vowell. While the Pilgrims landed in 1620 and founded Plymouth Colony, Vowell focuses more on Puritan (not exactly the same as a Pilgrim, but close) John Winthrop of the good ship Arabella and his landing and subsequent founding of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. From there she discusses the differences between those hardy men and women of Plymouth and the hardy men and women who founded Boston and surrounding areas (including Harvard), and those hardy men and women who were ejected from the colony and founded the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations (i.e., Roger Williams and Anne Hutchinson).

Vowell looks closely at the founding principles of Winthrop--particularly his sermon “A Model of Christian Charity” and how it actually applied to his fellow colonists and, of course, the native population. (Here’s a hint: not always so smoothly.) There’s much to be said about relations with the various Indian tribes--mostly the Narragansets and Pequots, the treaties, the wars, the trade and the atrocities.

Okay, back to the beginning for a sec. So what? Okay, most of us were force-fed Disney-fied histories of early America in grade school--stuff that glossed over the Indian wars and boiled down the Pilgrim mission of “religious freedom” as being the purpose of founding a colony in the New World. Well that religious freedom, for the most part, meant freedom to practice a particular brand of Christianity that was not overly popular back in England. No Jews or Papists welcome--at least until Roger Williams founded a colony in which all religions were free from government oppression (especially notable considering Williams himself was more Puritanical than Winthrop and his ilk). Vowell draws comparisons between our forefathers and current day religion, politics, and social values. They don’t always match up the way some pundits would have us believe. The Disney-fied version of history is less messy and more palatable--but still disingenuous.

Subject matter aside, what makes this book different from other history books? Vowell’s background as an essayist, humorist, and social commentator helps give voice to the quirky, almost irreverent way she spins the tale of these impassioned 17th century settlers. While displaying a great admiration for the source materials, she nonetheless enjoys tweaking the staid, stodgy noses of the Puritans at times. She’ll use contemporary pop references to explain her points or to make the characters of 17th century more relevant or identifiable to the 21st century reader.

If I had any negative criticism for The Wordy Shipmates, it would be that I found the pacing to be a little off. The narrative would move four steps forward, then skip a couple of steps back to re-cover events and personages she had already discussed, but with either additional details or a different perspective. It still had a sense of being a little repetitive in spots.

Once I identified what she was doing, and why, I accepted the vagaries of the pacing and the overall narrative still kept my interest enough to finish the book fairly quickly.

That, and she saved her sections on Roger Williams and Anne Hutchinson--two characters I found much more interesting than John Winthrop--for later in the book. As a Rhode Islander, I readily admit to a bias.

Recommended?

Sure. If you’re a history buff, I’d say this book, and others by her, would make for excellent reading and readers will find her perspectives both thoughtful and fresh. More casual readers of history will enjoy this too--much more so than some of those backbreaking volumes that threaten to make the tables collapse at Barnes & Noble. If you don’t care about history, you probably won’t even register a blip for this book, and likely haven’t even finished reading this column. More’s the pity because history has always been about understanding the present and the future by examining the lessons from the past, and because the story of the early settlers in New England is so often sanitized and simplified, it’s a lesson oft missed.

Sarah Vowell is trying to do you a favor. Let her.

In other news...

I’m currently in the middle of Game Change by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin.

This book has been flying off the shelves and it actually took us a while to find a copy. Bookstores kept selling out before we could get there. It’s the behind-the-scenes scoop on the infamous 2008 election and there’s a lot to scoop on. I’ve not finished the book. But I can say already with great confidence that even if you’re not a big political sort of person, you will find this book vastly entertaining and enlightening. It’s not all negative stuff or a journey into schadenfreude. It’s a look at the people, the policies, and practices of running a national election for President of the United States. That the election featured two prominent female candidates, and a victorious black candidate underscores that times are a’changin’, and political practices had to change as well.

Much of the conflict seems to stem, so far, from the clash between the new politics with the old politics.



I may re-visit this book in my next column, but I felt it would be a disservice not to recommend it now for your reading pleasure.

Cheers!

For information on how to get your book, comic, movie, whatever reviewed on Falling Off the Shelf, or to send hate mail, feel free to contact me at john (at) johnteehan (dot) com. No, I don’t grade hate mail.

J.D. SALINGER (1919-2010)

J.D. Salinger, reclusive writer of four books passed away yesterday of natural causes.

Salinger was the author of The Catcher in the Rye, Nine Stories, Franny and Zooey and Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction.

By 1963, Salinger had decided to no longer share his work with the world saying, "There is a marvelous peace in not publishing. It's peaceful. Still. Publishing is a terrible invasion of my privacy. I like to write. I love to write. But I write just for myself and my own pleasure."

But his passing might indicate that new books might be released in the future. According to his daughter Margaret Salinger's memoir, Dream Catcher, she describes the detailed filing system her father had for his unpublished manuscripts: "A red mark meant, if I die before I finish my work, publish this 'as is,' blue meant publish but edit first, and so on."

GEEK SCREENING ROOM presents JUST ONE OF THE GUYS

A perennial HBO favorite and one of my most watchable films, Just One Of The Guys was an Eighties Teen Movie take on Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.

I actually tried to reunite the cast for a 25th anniversary interview this April 26th (my birthday), and received several confirmations, but without the participation of a few people (most notably star Joyce Hyser), the attempt was abandoned (that being said, Joyce, if you're reading, email me back!)

With an awesome soundtrack, great cast and the inimitable Billy Zabka as the film's bad guy, Just One Of The Guys is essential viewing.

Produced by Andrew Fogelson
Written by Dennis Feldman and Jeff Franklin
Directed by Lisa Gottlieb
Starring Joyce Hyser, Clayton Rohner,
Billy Jacoby, William Zabka, Sherilyn Fenn

No Flipping

Anyone who owns a computer, TV or has even heard of a computer or TV in passing (or at least knows of the existence of said inventions) is well aware of drama that has surrounded late night programming in the past few weeks.

Whether or not you are a Conan fan and want to punch Leno in his substantial chin or you were...well let’s face it, Leno didn’t have much support, the point is you allegiances are immaterial when it comes to reading this column.


Instead, I will use this topical news story to clumsily segue into the next show I’m pimping, a fictional behind the scenes look at late night television called The Larry Sanders Show.


The Larry Sanders Show was an HBO show starring Gary Shandling as the titular character, who hosts a popular late night talk program with his sidekick Hank Kingsley played to perfection by Jeffrey Tambor. The episodes transition between the show (which is on tape) and behind the scenes/Larry’s life (which is on film) to give you a comedic look at what goes into putting together a late night talk program. Larry deals with his wife (and Ex), producers, writers, bookers, personal assistants, guests (played by real celebrities entirely willing to parody their public persona) and network brass with an uncomfortable, awkward charm, making me actually wish that Larry’s show was something I could catch nightly.

Main Characters- These cats do the heavy lifting

Larry Sanders (Gary Shandling)
Shandling plays Larry delightfully neurotic, a man who is afraid of face to face conflict and would rather send his ruthless producer Artie to take care of any problem he has. Despite his awkward personality, Larry has no problem attracting beautiful women and has had multiple wives to prove it, as well as several celebrity love interests including (an at the time still smoking hot) Sharon Stone.

Artie (Rip Torn)
Artie is Larry’s no-nonsense producer who will fiercely go to bat for Larry whenever he is afraid to voice his own opinion, which is essentially at all times. Artie is a Korean war Vet and has on more than one occasion said “I thought I killed him in Korea” when dealing with a network executive with aggressive and ridiculous ideas for the show. Rip Torn plays Artie with a perfect blend of bombast and charm, if he doesn’t like you he’ll loudly rip you to shreds, but if he needs you he’ll charm you into a false sense of security.

Hank Kingsley (Jeffrey Tambor)
HEY-NOW! (His catch phrase) Hank Kingsley is the Ed McMahon to Larry’s Johnny Carson. As Larry’s sidekick, Hank is loved by the elderly, and is a frequent pitchman or corporate whore for a wide array of mostly useless products...including a stint playing the Jolly Green Giant (where only his legs are visible). Although Larry (and Artie, and pretty much everyone under 65) sees Hank as something of an idiot, which he is, there is genuine love between the two partners who readily admit that they complement each other perfectly on stage.

Key supporting players
A staff composed of such talented performers as Janeane Garofalo, Jeremy Piven, Wallace Langham, Scott Thompson, Mary Lynn Rajskub, Sarah Silverman and Bob Odenkirk.

Larry’s relationship with David Duchovny
This isn’t an important story arc or anything, but it is one of my favourites, so I would be remiss not to mention it here. Celebrities were more than willing to skew themselves on the show, that is one of its many charms, none more so than David Duchovny. On the show David was portrayed as being a frequent guest star and very good friend of Larry’s. Later on in the series David’s affection for Larry grows to uncomfortable levels (at least in Larry’s psyche) so much so that he feels as though David wants to have sex with him. The beautiful thing is that Duchovny is more than willing to go all out in playing himself as an overly affectionate friend with obvious homosexual undertones. This is only magnified by Larry’s neurosis and obvious discomfort when faced with any sort of conflict.



The Larry Sanders Show featured great writing combined with great performances, so much so that I have a tough time picturing any other actors inhabiting the roles. There is also somewhat of a Leno/Conan situation involving Larry and Jon Stewart later on in the series. For those who want to check it out, the first season is available on DVD, and there is also a compilation collection called Not Just The Best of The Larry Sanders Show with several episodes taken from each season.

Marvel Comics' HEROIC AGE And The GEEK NEWS DU JOUR 1/28

USA Today previewed the upcoming return to an optimistic status quo in the Marvel Universe in May.

According to Marvel editor in chief Joe Quesada, "Heroes will be heroes again. They've gone through hell and they're back to being good guys — a throwback to the early days of the Marvel Universe, with more of a swashbuckling feel."

Leading the way will be a relaunched Avengers title, reuniting Iron Man, Captain America and Thor. Series writer, Brian Michael Bendis promises that "The 'brand new day' of the Heroic Age presents a tonal shift to optimism, a world filled with hope but quite hellish villains. The heroes realize it's a blue-sky world worth protecting."

And according to Quesada, this return to the heroic age has nothing to do with Marvel's sale to Disney. "There is no sanitizing of the Marvel books at all. Our philosophy here is to just keep telling good stories."


GEEK NEWS

• Quinto Calls MMO Role His Last Trek for 2 Years
• Zelda Rubinstein, R.I.P.
• Best Link You'll Find Today
• Star Wars Inspirational Posters

MOVIES/TELEVISION

• Of Course George Lucas Is Producing A CGI Musical About Fairies
• Mel Gibson And Shane Black To Reunite On Cold Warrior
• Kevin Fiege Confirms Hulk in The Avengers Film
• The Case for Mark Valley to Play Captain America
• Green Lantern Concept Art Shows Kilowog, Tomar-Re, Abin Sur
• Zac Efron To Star In Film Based On Brian Michael Bendis' Fire
• The CW Orders La Femme Nikita Remake
• LOST: The Complete Chart Of Characters' Past Connections
• ABC Selling Dharma Viewing Party Accessories!
• Mad Max: Fury Road Cast Keeps Growing
• Eat, Sleep, Poop - The Movie
• An Update On Brad Bird's 1906
• Bill Paxton In For Dennis Quaid In Steven Soderbergh's Knockout

MUSIC

• Punk Zine Archive

ART/DESIGN

• Master of Magazine Design, on How iPad Will Revolutionize the Discipline
• Penguins, Peaks and Penny-Farthings: National Geographic Covers, 1959-2000
• Pretty Neat Eclectic Micks Features The Work Of Irish Comic Artists

SCIENCE/TECHNOLOGY

• Microsoft's Tablet Is More Tempting Than The iPad
• Advice On Removing Your Alien Implant — From An Expert
• Evolution Shrank Some Primates’ Brains
• Is Vat-Grown Meat Kosher?

Cruse and Lindelof Reflect on LOST

KISS Got Dissed RANT - 1/27/10

Hello friends!

The other day I called my friend (and fellow FOG! writer) Jay Williams to tell him that a big percentage of Rolling Stone readers thought that KISS should have been inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame this time around.

But alas, they were dissed again, for the 10th time (even though this is the first nomination, they’ve been eligible for 10 years).

The people who did make the cut?

Abba, Genesis, Jimmy Cliff, The Hollies and The Stooges, and non-performers - David Geffen, Barry Mann, Cynthia Weill, Ellie Greenwich, Jeff Barry, Jesse Stone, Mort Shuman and Otis Blackwell.

A few weeks ago on Jay’s Facebook page, he rejoiced in the fact that KISS didn’t make the cut.


About 15 people who agreed with him followed that post. I posted that I wasn’t happy about it. I was barraged by people saying how much they suck, and how horrid Gene Simmons is.

Then I realized that I was about 10 to 20 years older than Jay’s friends and had to explain that they wouldn’t get it, because they were too young to have seen Kiss at their zenith in the 70’s and early 80’s like I did.

“They SUCK!” – “They’re not real musicians – it’s all about the makeup.” These were the things I was reading.


I pointed out that:

1 – They NEVER claimed to be the world’s best musicians
2 – They were/are the first to tell you that they are foremost ENTERTAINERS! Paul has said a zillion times that they want to give people a SHOW for their hard earned money.
3 – They are MASTERS of buzz, promotion, and publicity – nobody saw their faces for a few years, mixing their blood into the ink of their first edition of their comic book, licensing deals for just about everything under the sun, need I go on?


I feel fortunate because I got to see them for the first time in 1976 or 77, and saw them about 20 times in a few short years. I didn’t see them again until 1995, and it was virtually the same show. It was like watching any other big Pop act, like Janet Jackson, Britney Spears – an act with tons of costume changes, props, dancers, all that crap. Except that Kiss has Paul saying the exact same banter (“I’m feelin’ HOT in here…like we’re ON FIRE! OH, LIKE A FIREHOUSE!), Ace’s guitar spontaneously combusting, Gene spitting blood, and Chris singing to canned music when he does his big “Beth” solo. The show runs like a well-oiled machine, which I guess it is, and I don’t mind it. Just like a Broadway show!

And as for Gene these days?

I like his stupid “reality” show. Oh sure, he had a horrible sex tape in which he refused to take off his shirt. Yea, he’s slapped that KISS logo on everything from condoms to coffins and everything in between. Unh huh, he comes off like a greedy bastard. But deep down he’s really a nice Jewish boy who respects and loves his Mother and his kids. I also like:

1 – The fact that he’s always been telling kids that booze and drugs are bad.
2 – Never got married. I mean, by now he’s “common-law” married anyway, and why in the world would he leave or divorce Shannon Tweed any time soon. He does what he wants, she puts up with his shit because she gets to spend lots of money, make home movies, get more plastic surgery, and love her fantastic kids. They both keep it real, and I dig that.



I will try to sneak into the ceremony at the Waldorf-Astoria, like I do every year (I made it in when Prince kicked everyone’s ass during the George Harrison tribute – he was MAD AS HELL for NOT making the Rolling Stone magazine’s list of best ROCK guitarists that year). But until then, I will see you immediately after the Grammy awards on Sunday night!

Love,
Crystal

Get Your Damn Hands Off Of My Birthday!

You know how kids say 'All I want for Christmas are my two front teeth"? I've always thought that was the dumbest thing growing up. My parents would sing it to me and I'd tell them to shut up and get me a Nintendo Entertainment System. But this was many moons ago, my friends.

Instead I'm going to be talking about my birthday, which is still about 4 months away. But what do I want for my birthday? I'm not greedy and I already have plenty of DVDs (but I could always use more).

But there's one thing I've been wanting for my birthday for years but have only told a few people and they thought I was mad. Mad? On the contrary, this could make my birthday the greatest birthday ever. It is my 30th year on this planet, so why not get exactly what I want.

And what I want is for Mr. Crispin Hellion Glover to spend the day with my friends and I.

You're all asking yourselves, "Why would you want Crispin Glover as a gift?"

I think that's a stupid question. Why wouldn't I?

It's Crispin Glover, one of the coolest guys ever. You think I'm being stupid, don't you? I'm told that Crispin Glover is crazy. So what? I think that adds character to a man who already is a wonderfully talented actor. Oh, you say that he's never truly 'acting'. That he's just kooky and that always translates to his chosen roles.

Well, do people say Christopher Walken can't act? Or Gary Busey? Or Nick Nolte? No, I didn't think so. I mean, would The Country Bears be any good without Mr. Walken? Or would The Gingerdead Man films be like any other straight to DVD fare without the trademark Busey insanity? Or how about Nolte's garbled line reading that made Ang Lee's The Hulk such a captivating piece of cinema?

Crispin Glover has even made 2 films of his very own. People find them uncomfortable to sit through. Evenfind them horribly offensive toward mentally handicapped people. Which I don't know and haven't really seen that occuring in the first of the two films, What Is It? A very surreal black comedy film about a man with down syndrome battling his inner demons and villains on different planes of existence. Some say it's not a film at all. But I see it as an artistic achievement by Mr. Glover, showcasing a story about the pain and torture he's had to endure in Hollywood and what it's done to his psychosis. Maybe I'm looking too into it, but I don't think that I am. The next film in the supposed trilogy, It Is Mine, should be coming out this year. I think that'd be a fine addition to my birthday extravaganza!

He can also kick really high. We've all seen the clip from Letterman. That's a trait I find to be highly effective and something I can really use from time to time. Even if it's just the air in front of him.

He even fathered Marty McFly. That's an amazing feat right there in itself and should be rewarded by being at my house and helping bring in my 30th year. He can bring his slide show and the books he's changed to be his very own. Just sitting around with candlelight while he speaks about his various roles in films, from The River's Edge to Bartleby, from Willard to Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle. I could listen to him for hours. I'd want to ask him so many questions but I'd probably geek out and sit on my hands like the dork that I am. He'll probably relate and give me a bottle with an eyeball in it.

I would treasure it always.

So let's spread the word. I want Crispin Glover to know that I want him at my birthday this year. It would be amazing to spend the day with him. Partake in some birthday cake with him. Play Scene It with him and maybe stumble upon a scene from his movies and just laugh about it. It would be the birthday to end all birthdays.

I know my girlfriend is creeped out by him, but that's just the fun of it all. Come on, Mr. Glover. You know you'd love to make a stop here in Brooklyn on your next tour of your films. Please, if you have the time, come on by and let's just have a merry old time.

Let's make this happen. It will be a glorious time for all and the pictures that would be taken at this event would be priceless. Just think about it. I know I am.

Is It Just Me, Or Is The iPAD A Bit Underwhelming?

Full disclosure, I'm a Mac person. I've only owned Apple computers and don't expect to ever change that.

But really, the iPad? I think it's a terrible name and instantly reminds me of a futuristic menstrual application.

I've been really excited about the possibilities of what this new device could bring, but the initial announcement doesn't have me jumping up and down the way I expected to.


First off, the price point is great, but why even offer anything other than the $829 model? And with an acceptable 64 GB of memory, it does seem a bit limited. There's no USB, so you can't attach any additional external memory devices.

Second, although there's a keyboard dock, which in theory turns it into a desktop computer, it's not. It's an expanded iPhone. There's no full can only be downloaded from Apple; so that mean no VLC player, which for me, is an essential download and my default media player.

Third, although the high end models are unlocked and GSM-based (which rules out Verizon) and has a microphone, it can't be used as a telephone.

Fourth, there's no camera.

Fifth, hyped initially as Apple's answer to the Kindle, books can only be purchased through the iBookstore and there's no information if you can upload your own PDFs. Magazines and The New York Times will be available.

Sixth, no camera or video out.

Seventh, apparently the battery which claims to have a 10 hour life, doesn't have the best reputation.

That being said, I think that the potential for the iPad applied to comics is pretty intriguing, and many creators are hoping that this is the next step in publishing.

I'm not sold yet.

Thoughts?

I Found LOST

The final season of Lost is fast approaching and with it the inevitable deluge of Lost-inspired products and projects from people all over the world eager to cash in on the hype.

Are these things worth it?

Let's go through a quick role call, shall we?

1. When is great television not British?

When it is Lost.


In anticipation of the final season, members of the Reduced Shakespeare Company are retelling the first 5 seasons of the show in 10 minutes. They have had years of success retelling the works of the Bard in just a few minutes, so it stands to reason that the combination of this experience with the tangled web weaved by the Lost script editors and producers will lead to a riveting 10 minutes of theater.

More telling of their chances of success is the blessing given to it by Lost producers Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindeloff. I just hope for its success and the chance that, following season 6, Reduced Lost will be an ongoing production that eventually eclipses Shakespeare himself.

2. Music, sweet music.

Like Harry and the Potters and the Harry Potter books and movies, there are several artists who have based their very existence on the show.

Ahh Brooklyn! Former home of the Dodgers, current home to hipsters and home base of Previously on Lost. POL offers songs that recap episodes and various story lines in a tone of what I can only describe as sounding like They Might Be Giants with more members. Check out the video for "The Island Won't Let You Die."



Check out their myspace and buy one of their awesome t-shirts or a CD.

Like some 90s boy-band coming out of the grave, L.A.'s The Oceanic Six create soulless tributes to the show and its characters. As you can see in the video for "Mr. Eko", they appear to spend more time on the videos than the songs, but then that's what led me to the boy-band comparison, wasn't it?




3. What is pop culture if not a continuous stream of TV show inspired board games?

So far, there appears to be only Lost: the Board Game.


A game of strategy that combines board game conceits with some of the things that make role playing games great, Lost: the Board Game allows players to become a character from the show surviving on the island. I confess that, though it appears to be great, I have yet to play the game.

Following its final season, I can only hope that Lost takes a cue from The Simpsons or Family Guy with Lost Clue or Lost Monopoly. But Lost could take it one step further: Lost Chutes and Ladders. Imagine a game board that brings you from the Swan to the Pearl using nothing but chutes and ladders! Maybe a Lost Candyland will be in the cards and will have a focus on the Polar bears and the smoke monster.

4. Cue the violins, the sitting room, and the velour jacket. Have you lit your pipe? Excellent. Lost has a secondary universe that takes place in books.

As in, Lost has become literature.

4 books have been released so far, three of which have to do with the island.

The last is "Bad Twin" by Gary Troup, a passenger on Oceanic Flight 815. According to lostpedia.com, Troup was the first character killed on the show after he was sucked into the jet's engine, causing the (awesome) plane explosion in the first episode.

The book itself is a work of fiction that Troup was having published. Released in the real world in 2006, the book quickly climbed to the NY Times best seller list due in no small part to the the hunger for more clues felt by so many Lost fans.

Following season 6, will the books continue?

I was unable to find any signs online that they would, but a complete stop to the franchise really is anybody's guess.

As a side note, while researching this piece, I found this LA Times article about book clubs inspired by the books used on the show.

5. Hopefully, what will never end are the fun, internet-based spoofs that have popped up all over Youtube and Vimeo over the last several years. Here's my favorite:

Why I Love (Three) Michael Bolton Songs

My wife likes to mock me for "loving" Michael Bolton.

But I don't love him any more than she loves MTV. She watches only the best that it has to offer - 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom - so why can't I can't be as choosy?

Growing up, my parents subscribed to Columbia House’s music and movie club, a mail-order service that was marketed as selling CDs and VHS movies for as little as 49 cents—except they inadvertently entered into a contract to buy 10 additional CDs or movies at full price.

Notwithstanding the contractually binding fine print, my parents’ subscription gave birth to my strange taste in music, especially my (limited) affinity for Michael Bolton.

Writing this piece is really another opportunity for me to mourn the loss of my first CD, Bolton’s The One Thing. It was the only CD of Bolton’s that I would ever own and it turned out to be one of my favorites. It was released on November 16th, 1993, just over a month after my 13th birthday, but I didn’t own a copy until 1995/1996.

I only remember the approximate year because my family didn’t own a CD player until after we moved into our first house in 1995. We probably didn’t own one until we signed up for the first 49-cents-plus-9-dollars-and-59-cents CD.

(My only other exposure to music that year was the radio, which I would only turn on when my parents left the house on short errands. I used to keep a close watch for the family car coming down the street for fear that my mother would catch me listening to Shaggy’s single,"Boombastic," which was a little less subtle and used fewer metaphors for sex than the classy Bolton song "Can I Touch You…There?").

I’m not even sure why my parents would have bought a Michael Bolton CD except that it was probably part of the introductory offer from Columbia House. My parents wouldn’t know Michael Bolton from George Michael even if the latter wore a sign that said “Michael is my last name.”

I lost that copy of The One Thing some time ago but I was surprised to find that I didn’t even have any of the album’s songs in my iTunes library. (I think my wife had something to do with that; she doesn't exactly appreciate my "taste" in music. She claims that I don't have any).

As I started to type the words "Michael Bolton" into the iTunes Store search field, the auto word completion suggestions were "Michael Jackson," "Michael Quach" (he appears to be an iPhone application designer), "Michael Buble," "Ingrid Michaelson"--I could go on forever. Amazon.com was no different. Needless to say, Bolton is simply not recognized for the wonderful cover singer and balladeer that he is.

Against my wife’s wishes, I decided to use a portion of my not-so-sizable corporate salary to buy and listen to my four favorite songs from that album: "Said I Loved You…But I Lied," "I’m Not Made Of Steel," "The One Thing," and "Lean On Me." As I listened to each song, precious memories came flooding back.

Each has special meaning to me. "Said I Loved You…" is musically special for the guitar solo 3mins18sec into the song and the drums that lead into the last chorus. The guitar riff also reminds me of the days when we would all gather around my dad as he played the guitar at our birthday parties. Sorry, Dad, nowadays, playing little French ditties doesn’t amuse nephews and nieces with hundreds of commercial-release songs on their iPods.

The lyrics in "I’m Not Made Of Steel" (“I can bend, I can break, I can feel; I’m not made of steel”) triggered a special emotional memory because the song used to always made me feel better when I got tired of putting on my happy-go-lucky face. This song makes it ok for even Mr. T to be sad.

"You’re The One Thing" reminded me of some pretty ridiculous poems that I'd written, but thankfully never delivered, to girls I had crushes on as a teenager. I spent many hours trying to properly structure those poetic overtures and practiced enough English to ace the Reading Comprehension section of the SATs but I didn't go on a date until I was a senior in high school. I don't think I ever realized that album lyric booklets were not intended to be “Poetry for Dummies” manuals.

Finally, "Lean On Me" reminded me of how my high school band music director/conductor had instructed us to clap to keep the beat near the end of the song, and also keep the audience animated. It was unbelievable how awful we were at clapping to keep a beat when we could so easily maintain the beat if we were tapping our feet or simply counting in our own heads.

It goes to show that doing anything in unison with any number of people has a way of messing with one's brain function.

Especially when it involves a Michael Bolton song.

Meet The JSA In New SMALLVILLE: ABSOLUTE JUSTICE TRAILER And The GEEK NEWS DU JOUR 1/27

This trailer comes courtesy of our Canadian neighbors.


GEEK NEWS

• Avatar Inspires New Name For A Chinese Mountain
• Why the Idea Of The Apple Tablet May Be Better Than The Reality
• SyFy Is Running A Contest To Name That SyFy Movie
• 10 Shows For Marvel To Conquer TV With

MOVIES/TV

• Guy Ritchie Leaves Lobo For More Holmes
• With Adjusted Inflation, Avatar Ranks 26th
• Sam Worthington To Play Dracula In Year Zero
• Select Group Of Actors On Pilot Wish Lists
• Japanese Novel Provides Key To Sixth Season Of Lost
• House Getting A Spin-Off?
• Lost: Eight Facts We Know About The Smoke Monster
• Lost: How It Ends (Maybe)
• Booking War Brewing Between Letterman And Leno

BOOKS/COMICS

• Borders CEO Resigns
• Brightest Day Promotion Brings Out Flash, Green Lantern Rings

ART/DESIGN

• 21 Classic Sci-Fi Scenes Performed By Typography

SCIENCE/TECHNOLOGY

• McGraw-Hill CEO Confirms Apple Tablet Is Coming Today
• Electroactive Polymer Technology Used To Create Artificial Eyelid Muscle
• What Apple Tablet Means For Hollywood
• The Tablet Could Spur A Media Revolution, But It Will Be Out Of Apple’s Hands
• Apple Tablet Will Likely Support 2 Kinds Of Apps

MUSIC

• Mark Mothersbaugh Talks New Devo Album

Science Fiction Dies Infinite Deaths, and is Reborn Anew Each Time.

OK, the title is a bit much.

SF is often NOT entirely reborn anew each time, but is in a constant state of renewal.

Which we should be thankful for, since SF is not some unkillable zombie, but a phoenix that flares brightly each time is arises from the ashes. And its deaths are often over-heralded precisely because it always returns, often to be quickly killed again, as if some cruel hunter wants an infinite supply of its brilliant tailfeathers.

The funny thing is, however, that these deaths are not only overstated and temporary, but they are often a stimulating ritual that generates passion in the genre and drives authors to greater creativity.


I have talked in more social terms about genre in a previous column. But let's talk about genre as something other than a convenient device for publishers to pigeonhole material or as a badge of identity for writers or fans. Let's talk about it in the literary sense, as "a category of artistic, musical, or literary composition characterized by a particular style, form, or content" as defined by good old Merriam-Webster. Let's also discuss its use as the term "science fiction" both specifically and generally. The literary genre of science fiction, it seems, is the most tortured sort of category, one whose death is constantly proclaimed and whose boundaries and content are frequently, passionately debated and defined.

The question that is rarely asked is: why is this so, from a creative or literary point of view? Why do creators and adherents of science fiction have to argue over the vitality, relevance, and/or death of science fiction so frequently and with such force? There are certainly reasons of marketplace, the idea that the genre sells less well than others. There is the inferiority complex that the genre seems saddled with, the argument over space opera versus high literature. Underneath these there seems to be a certain amount of anxiety, not just in terms of saleability, but a concern that science fiction does not get the credit it deserves, the respect that it should have given its combination of relevance and ingenuity, both technological and social. This anxiety is expressed sometimes as a cry to guard the borders, while at other times it becomes a lecture in loosening up, in stretching our ideas.

But today, reading Sarah A. Hoyt's discussion that I linked to above, I wondered "Does mystery have this problem? Do romance writers endlessly dispute what characteristics make a work romance?" I did a quick Google search on "the death of mystery" and got a variety of webpages that had nothing to do with the genre's demise (except for an obituary for Donald Westlake, which was a literal demise). When I looked up "the death of romance" I got dating advice sites and a preview of Zeromancer's new album of that name. But when I typed in "the death of science fiction" I found a vast panoply of discussions regarding the genre's health and spirit. So it would appear that, amongst the genres, only science fiction is the one that is endlessly agonized over.

And, honestly, this is an effect of the genre's strengths.

SF does something different than mystery and romance, and has a much wider creative field to encompass. This is particularly true if you consider it as speculative fiction rather than "science fiction" specifically, although even the hardest of hard SF is part of a broad range of works. The borders of the genre are not only vast, but they are walls, misty moors, chasms, and psychological perimeters that are crossed or embraced different in each work. There are genre formulae for plot and style and content, but they can be mixed together in a dizzying array of ways. Sometimes they completely follow one tried-and-true genre doctrine; other times they are bend or demolish expected directions. But overall, the outline of the genre is one to be played with, not slavishly followed, and while some iterations follow expectations, science fiction as a genre is supposed to defy expectation, to take the reader to new worlds, to present them with new realities, and to rewrite the laws of the heavens and the earth.

This is why there will always be debates about the genre, why there may have to be continual debates about the genre. We need these debates to exercise its flexibility and feel its vastness. We need to hear and write out our own ideas about it and compare them with the understandings of others. We reaffirm that the genre contains what we think it does, while also obseving what others see in it. Constant comparison of these understandings helps keep the borders in view, while individuating how solid or ephemeral those borders are to each viewer. This reminds us of what we see as creatively valuable about the genre, while pushing us to expand our vision of what lies within the bounds of it, what we can discern with our imaginations and what is left to explore or rediscover within that artistic territory.