Battlestar of souls

* WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD. Don’t read this entry unless you’ve seen last night’s episode of Battlestar Galactica.

* Your BSG must-read of the day: The Chicago Tribune’s Maureen Ryan has assembled a series of lengthy interviews with head honcho Ron Moore, writers Bradley Thompson and David Weddle, and director Michael Nankin about last night’s episode. One thing they bring up again and again is that everyone involved believed the episode, the last to be filmed before the writers’ strike shut down production, would be the last BSG episode ever, and consciously gave their all with that in mind. Just make sure to watch out when Ryan chimes in with her thoughts at the end of the piece, because she throws in a major, major spoiler for The Shield out of the blue.

* SciFi Wire interviews Kandyse “Dualla” McClure about her final episode, while the LA Times speaks with Kate Vernon about her return as Ellen Tigh and the reveal of Ellen’s status as the Final Cylon.

* The House Next Door’s Todd VanDerWerff returns to resume his strong weekly recap/reviews of the series.

* Jim Henley has my favorite take on last night’s big Final Cylon reveal: in essence, “It’s so crazy it just might work!” I’ve never been much for the “Who are the Final Five?” mythology mystery, but I have to say that solving it this way really impressed me. First of all, I can’t imagine very many people had “Ellen Tigh” in their Final Cylon office pool–any of the major, obvious candidates would have felt anticlimactic, but this was a genuine and welcome curveball. Secondly, it makes Michael “Col. Tigh” Hogan the emotional lynchpin of the remainder of the mythology, a decision akin to how the producers of Lost decided to center their show around Michael Emerson, i.e. a brilliant one. I sure am glad, however, that the “next week on BSG” promo spelled out who exactly was the Final Cylon, because otherwise the Ellen/Starbuck debate would be raging right now.

* Finally, both Variety and the LA Times have tons of interviews and features on the show. While away the hours.

T-Shirt of the Week

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On sale for freaking $8.98! Even with shipping it’s like $15, which is the best price for a t-shirt you can find.

Dear Sean,

Thank you for shopping at Hottopic.com!

Note that orders are processed Monday through Friday. Please allow a processing time of 1-2 business

days before your order is shipped.

Your Hot Topic order number is: XXXXXXX

Order date: 2009-01-16 20:57:58

Status of your Hot Topic order: Sent to Warehouse

(Via David Paggi.)

A diva is a female version of a hustler

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Beyoncé makes the world a better place.

(viahat tip)

Carnival of souls

* Sean news one: the official ToyFare blog reminds us that I’m going to be joining some of my colleagues on the New York Comic Con’s Twisted ToyFare Theater panel. So go check it out!

* Sean news two: Just making sure that everyone caught “A Real Gentle Knife”, a comic based on a song by Golden Boy and Miss Kittin, written by me, and drawn by Josiah Leighton, over at Top Shelf 2.0.

* Battlestar Galactica returns tonight, and to celebrate, SciFi Wire has put together a pretty terrific feature in which virtually the entire cast talks about their favorite moments in making the series. Michael “Colonel Tigh” Hogan’s is a goddamn doozy:

“The whole cast was there because we were burying the soldiers. It was the funeral,” says Hogan. “Adama talks about how we have to be responsible for the things that we have done, and at the end of that … We didn’t really know each other, any of the cast members, and didn’t really know what to expect, especially as far as acting, because this was first day of principal photography.

“Adama finishes this speech and then says, ‘So say we all,’ and I guess we sort of mumbled, ‘So say we all.’ Eddie [Olmos] kind of looked at all of us and said it again, ‘So say we all.’ Well, we weren’t ready for that, so we said, ‘So say we all.’ And he looked at us and said, ‘SO SAY WE ALL.’ And he got us all going, and it was a chilling, chilling time. It was like, ‘Whoa,’ and by the end of it the whole room, the hundreds of us, are just yelling, “SO SAY WE ALL!” And that wasn’t in the script. When that was over you were kind of, ‘Whoa boy, we’re in for a ride now’…”

* Meanwhile, The House Next Door’s Todd VanDerWerff talks to the director of tonight’s BSG premiere, Michael Nankin. It’s a really interesting conversation if you’re interested in the process behind BSG, but also for learning about life as a journeyman director who fell into TV from features and what he’s learned from both.

* The Watchmen lawsuit has been resolved, and They’ve agreed to various boring business/money things, and now I’m done blogging about this movie barring something amazingly awesome until the thing comes out. (You’re welcome, Frank.)

* Jog casts a semi-skeptical eye on Final Crisis #6. For what it’s worth, I think the balance between “bog-standard” superhero event-comics moments and real head-scratchers is what makes the comic so durned innarestin’, as the fella says.

* Jason Adams runs down his Top 25 films of the year. Jeez, Jason sees a lot of movies! Sigh, I wish. Then again I reviewed around 140 comic books, so I guess I’m okay too.

* At the Inkstuds radio show, critics Tom Spurgeon, Douglas Wolk, Paul Gravett, and host Robin McConnell discuss the year in comics.

* Dark Obi-Wan? Sure, I’ll eat it. (You’re welcome, Matthew.)

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* I love Hot Topic. I am totally serious. I’ve never understood why we hold it against teenagers that they don’t live near a major legit font of underground culture, so where else are they gonna go? Walking into a Hot Topic makes me feel like I’m entering the nerve center of kids who get called faggots by other kids, which brings back memories. It’s like coming home. Anyway, here’s a Watchmen hoodie on sale at a Hot Topic near you. Last time I was there they had a kickass Final Crisis T-shirt, too, but not in my side, dammit.

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Comics Time: Kramers Ergot 7

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Kramers Ergot 7

Sammy Harkham, editor

Alvin Buenaventura, assistant editor

Sammy Harkham, Shobo Shobo, Martin Cendreda, Walt Holcombe, Shary Boyle, Jerry Moriarty, Aapo Rapi, Ted May, Nick Main, Tom Gauld, Geoff McFetridge, Chris Cilla, Tim Hensley, Daniel Clowes, J. Bradley Johnson, James McShane, C.F., Kim Deitch, Chris Ware, Jacob Ciocci, John Brodowski, Jaime Hernandez, Matt Furie, Anders Nilsen, Ivan Brunetti, Carol Tyler, David Heatley, Dan Zettwoch, Johnny Ryan, Mat Brinkman, Eric Haven, Conrad Botes, Josh Simmons, Richard Sala, Jesse McManus, Rick Altergott, James Thurber, John Hankiewicz, Ben Katchor, Frank Santoro, Seth, Leif Goldberg, Blanquet, Blex Bolex, Will Sweeney, Kevin Huizenga, Adrian Tomine, Florent Ruppert, Jerome Mulot, Anna Sommer, Ben Jones, Pshaw, Jonathan Bennett, Helge Reumann, John Pham, Matt Groening, Xavier Robel, Joe Daly, Souther Salazar, Ron Regé Jr., Gabrielle Bell, writers/artists

Buenaventura Press, December 2008

96 comically huge pages, hardcover

$125

Buy it from Buenaventura

Buy it from Amazon.com

The massive, gutterless, green white and orange panels of Frank Santoro’s silent Iraq War morality play. The masterful repetition and variation of John Hankiewicz’s three-page classroom vignette. The way Ben Katchor uses space to force your eye back and forth and effortlessly draw you to the conclusion of his strip about a woman reluctant to date a man who works in an ugly building (a LOL moment). Chris Ware’s lifesize baby. Mat Brinkman’s massive red white and black monsters. Josh Simmons’s jaw-droppingly bleak horror story, its dense panels fluttering by so quickly it almost feels like you’re watching the comic rather than reading it. Eric Haven’s use of blue. Carol Tyler’s huge block-letter “NUTS!” Ivan Brunetti and Kevin Huizenga forcing you to flip this gigantic book around. Jacob Ciocci using a Seal lyric as the philosophical lynchpin of a psychedelic freakout (another LOL moment). The electric guitar soundwave in the middle of John Brodowski’s page. The delicious candy-colored nostalgia of the vintage bottlecaps lining Kim Deitch’s strip. All those James McShane circle panels. The way the traditional altcomix layouts of Tim Hensley, Dan Clowes, and Jaime Hernandez’s strips make you feel like you’re reading a book from a land of giants. Double that with Adrian Tomine’s spread. Tom Gauld’s “two guys in a weird, large, isolated environment” schtick being used to tell the story of Noah’s Ark like some lost Edward Gorey project. Aapo Rapi’s blue yellow and green Grimm Cabbage Patch Kid fairy tale. Walt Holcombe’s rock-poster title page. Matt Groening’s dorm-poster contribution. Matt Furie’s menagerie. John Pham’s evocation of the gray urban nightscape in his strip about stray dogs. Gabrielle Bell’s spy thriller (!). Ben Jones & Pshaw’s color-coded gag strips. Ruppert & Mulot’s vertiginous stairway strip. Sammy Harkham’s two-tone sunset. Seth’s Porcellino-like tribute to Thoreau MacDonald. Anders Nilsen’s pastels. Helge Reumann’s cycle of violence. Shobo Shobo’s bright yellow endpages and nearly useless Where’s Waldo table of contents. Sammy Harkham’s creepy front cover and Shary Boyle’s creepy back cover. Conrad Botes ending things on the downest down note he could play.

When you open these massive covers and flip through these massive pages and read these massive comics, you’ll find things that lots of things that knock you out immediately and lots of things that work really well once you read them. You’ll also find lots of things that don’t work on a canvas this size, and a number of things that probably don’t work at all. But all told, a decade from now or two decades from now when someone asks you what this decade was like in alternative comics, this is the book you’re going to hand them. This is our era. You were there.

Carnival of souls

* My pal Kevin Mahadeo got himself a nice little get: An interview with Grant Morrison about the fairly momentous events of Final Crisis #6 on the day FC #6 was released. I particularly liked this exchange:

On the soap box side of things, for me, there’s been a long [stretch] of comics trying to be about the streets and about realism and dealing with the Bush Administration. We wanted to follow more popular culture, which is going in a more psychedelic direction, to use the want of a better word. I think things are starting to get a bit crazier again and people are enjoying stuff a little bit more—the fantastical and demanding of the imagination. I think that’s what we’re trying to do. Final Crisis #7 is almost inventing a new style. We had widescreen comics and decompression and super-compression. This is channel-zapping comics.

For every comic and series you tackle, you always ask questions about what the character means and where the character can go. Is that what you’re seeing in Final Crisis, where can comics go?

MORRISON: Yeah. In particular with superhero comics. Once you’ve seen “Iron Man” and “The Dark Knight,” why bother doing realistic superheroes because now the movies can do them better than anyone. I kind of feel that what it does is free up comics to be a little bit wilder. We’ve got great artists who can sit there with their pencils and draw anything. They’re not limited by budgets. We shouldn’t be following the storytelling techniques of Hollywood because they can do it really well. Comics can do all kinds of other things. They can be really crazy and wild and can really stretch the imagination and be really progressive.

* Speaking of the comics one assumes Morrison was speaking of, there’s been a lot of talk on this blog and elsewhere about the tone-deafness of Secret Invasion and Dark Reign, specifically how rapacious asshole and obviously batshit-crazy evil serial killer Norman Osborn was appointed King Shit of SHIELD Mountain by Barack “Change We Can Believe In” Obama in his first act as the Marvel America’s President. For me at least, this undercut the quick cash-in Spider-Man thing they did for the rubes where Barry gives Spidey dap. However, somebody or other told me that if the solicits for Thunderbolts are any indication, Obama’s role in that infamous Osborn decision–its actual depiction limited, if I recall, to coloring the hand of the otherwise off-panel President brown–is going to be or has already been retconned, and that upcoming storyarcs will feature Obama’s attempt to thwart his predecessor’s decision to put the Green Goblin in charge of stuff while GG will attempt to assassinate Obama. For what it’s worth.

* Some top-notch comics people have posted their Top Comics of 2008 lists. Here’s Frank Santoro’s. Here’s Douglas Wolk’s.

* Speaking of Top Whatever of 2008 Lists from top-notch people, Jason Adams–my favorite horror blogger, when he blogs horror–lists his top horror movies and top indelible (mostly horrific) movie moments.

* Maybe the Watchmen mess will get resolved today? (Sorry, Frank.)

* Gossip Girl prequel series? Sure, I’ll eat it. And while we’re on the subject, X-Men movie written by Josh Schwartz? Sure, I’ll eat it.

* Radiohead re-releases featuring extra discs compiling all those b-sides and EP tracks I never bought except Airbag/How Am I Driving? Sure, I’ll eat it.

* Murder saves lives! Learn how one lucky bird owes its continued existence in part to my Matt Wiegle-designed mini-anthology (available for purchase for the low low price of $3!) in this comic by Sarah Louise Wahrhaftig.

* Chris Mautner shelf porn! Oh, built-in bookshelf walls, how I love thee.

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* Quotes of the day:

“We tortured [Mohammed al-]Qahtani.”

Judge Susan J. Crawford, convening authority of U.S. military commissions.

“Waterboarding is torture.”

Eric Holder, Attorney General-designate.

Carnival of souls

* J.R.R. Tolkien continues to do his best Tupac Shakur impression: Tolkien’s The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun, “a volume of rare Norse epic poetry,” will be released in May. The Children of Hurin was excellent, fwiw.

* Battlestar Galactica returns on Friday and will run an extra 3 1/2 minutes, so a lot of websites are saying to adjust your DVRs, but in my experience they usually pick up on this sort of thing automatically. I dunno, it’s publicity, I guess. Also, that prequel webisode series The Face of the Enemy has wrapped up and I rather liked it. Not for the squeamish, mind you. Or for, I dunno, Rick Warren.

* The hardcover collection of Marvel’s adaptation of The Stand, which I believe will contain some supplemental items courtesy of yours truly, will only be available in comic shops.

* Via everywhere, part one: Samuel L. Jackson says he and Marvel Studios have not come to a salary agreement regarding his returning as Nick Fury, the character basically drawn for him to eventually play, in subsequent Marvel movies like Iron Man 2 and The Avengers. You have to imagine the possibility of a likeness lawsuit is a possible bargaining chip here, no?

* Via everywhere, part two: Warner Bros. and Fox appear close to a settlement over the rights to distribute Watchmen.

* Via everywhere, part three: Covered, a new blog launched by comics artist and animator Robert Goodin and featuring various artists doing cover versions of their favorite comics covers. Here’s Jeffrey Brown doing Mike Zeck’s Secret Wars.

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* Pat Johnson is the new head honcho at big-deal literary comics publishing imprint Pantheon. (Via Heidi Macdonald.)

* The Spanish first-person zombie movie [REC] was just alright for me, dawg, but if you’re into it, you can finally legally purchase a playable DVD version of it via Amazon.ca as of January 27th.

* When good movies happen to good posters: Jason Adams reports that The Broken, which spawned the memorable poster below, was actually pretty good. Nice to know.

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* Speaking of good posters, this little number for the upcoming Crank 2 is just about as ridiculous and wonderful as one imagines the film itself will be. (Hat tip: Adam Tracey.)

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* Marc-Oliver Frisch takes another swing at the “how to read and review event comics” piñata.

* Oooh, look, someone mapped the Star Wars galaxy! My Rebel Alliance insignia tattoo is glowing. (Via Topless Robot.)

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* Finally, here’s Kate Winslet flashing her underwear. Eternal Sunshine indeed.

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“Mommy, can I go out and kill tonight?”

Over at Top Shelf 2.0 you can now find “A Real Gentle Knife,” a comic based on the song “Rippin Kittin” by Golden Boy and Miss Kittin, written by me, and drawn by my old friend and up-and-coming comics blogger/educator Josiah Leighton. I hope you enjoy it.

Comics Time: Speak of the Devil

PhotobucketSpeak of the Devil
Gilbert Hernandez, writer/artist
Dark Horse, October 2008
128 pages, hardcover
$19.95
Buy it from Amazon.com

Hmmm, you know what? Not quite sure what to make of this one. It’s Gilbert Hernandez, so it’s beautiful, in this case almost freakishly so. The image of the moon and clouds in the night sky in the first couple of panels is enormously evocative and engrossing–as cliche as it sounds, you really are instantly transported into the world of this comic. The book’s glossy paper takes Beto’s blacks to a new level of shiny, greasy oiliness. They almost look wet. He can lay out a page like nobody’s business and has the same knack for doing the unexpected but just-right with his panels that John Bonham had with his drums, from a dialogue sequence where word balloons always accompany a shot of the person who isn’t talking to a view of a make-out session that features a positioning of the two involved parties I’d never seen depicted before yet instantly recognized.

The story isn’t quite so smoothly done. I buy the character work in the beginning–I understand why each of these people is making these unusual choices. I was almost thrown by the first outbreak of violence, but then it turns out to be something different and less grievous than I thought it was, so I was back on board with what I thought was a really astute take on troubled teenagedom. I could even go along for the ride when the killing started because of the people with whom it started. I watched Snapped, I know these things happen. But as things get progressively worse, I never quite bought the ease with which our protagonists become a Mickey and Mallory menage a trois, particularly the stepmother, who seemed basically happy with her life if a little kinkier than she felt comfortable letting on with her husband. I understand that we’re not in the “real world” of something like the Palomar material but in the heightened reality of the “Fritz-verse” of b-movies Beto is slowly converting to graphic novel form, but I still feel like the work requires psychological integrity if not psychological realism, and I don’t see how guileless serial murder flows from what we’ve seen in these characters up until that point.

And there’s also this weird disconnect between the astonishingly graphic violence–seriously, this thing is brutal–and the strangely prudish sexual material. Which, I’m sorry, erotic thrillers should have nudity, particularly erotic thrillers from Gilbert freaking Hernandez, the most refreshingly no-holds-barred tackler of sexual material in alternative comics. Am I saying that I want to see the sexy female characters naked? Well, yeah, that’s partially what I’m saying, same as how I wanted to see Superman actually punch people in Superman Returns–it’s sort of the point. And while we’re at it, this isn’t Hollywood, we don’t have the MPAA breathing down our necks, we can show dick, too, as Beto has countless times in the past. To do a Brian DePalma story about peeping toms with several sex and masturbation scenes and not show any nudity at all…it’s just weird, it left me wondering why that decision was made and distracted when the over-the-top violence kicked off, like, “this is okay but nipples aren’t?”. At first I assumed it was because this was originally a serialized Dark Horse comic, but Dark Horse also published Sin City and Hard Boiled, both of them insanely violent comics with a decent amount of nipplage. I dunno, it’s odd, don’t you think? I have a feeling I’ll be returning to this comic anyway, because like its sister book Chance in Hell it’s magnetic and extremely revealing in terms of how much of its author it puts on display, but it doesn’t quite all click for me the way thematically (and even visually) similar works like Black Hole click.

Carnival of souls

* Over at the Cool Kids Table, Ben Morse has posted a series of “collect this heretofore uncollected run of comics puh-leeze!” wishlists from himself, Kiel Phegley, Rickey Purdin, TJ Dietsch, David Paggi, and one Sean T. Collins. Check it out and bug the relevant publishers.

* Get those shopping lists fired up: Douglas Wolk has put together a pretty great list of the major alt/lit/art comics releases coming out in 2009.

* Chris Mautner continues his own series of such roundups, this one focusing on my webcomics publisher, Top Shelf.

* Mautner also weighs in on the big discussion we had here the other week about how to read and review event comics.

* Tom Spurgeon lists 25 great things about being a comics reader.

* Josiah Leighton reprints and examines Katsuhiro Otomo’s pre-Akira short story “Nothing Will Be as It Was.”

* Tim O’Shea talks to Josh Cotter about Skyscrapers of the Midwest, one of my favorite comics of the year.

* Okay, fine, everyone’s got me intrigued about The Winter Men now.

* Stacie Ponder reviews Planet Terror and Death Proof, or as they were once collectively known, Grindhouse.

* B-Sol at the Vault of Horror lists the top 10 scariest paintings of all time.

* Dave Kiersh has posted a preview of his upcoming teen-drama comic, Dirtbags, Mallchicks and Motorbikes. (Via Heidi MacDonald.)

* Finally, remember when I said that I thought Watchmen was going to be a real eye-opener for mainstream audiences in terms of a type of superhero imagery they’d be seeing for the first time ever? Apparently Warner Bros. agrees, because they’re using that as the selling point for the commercial they’ve been running during NFL games and 24. (Via Topless Robot.)

George Duke – Reach for It

What, are you dense? Are you retarded or something? Where the hell do you think I am? I’m at the goddamn movies.

Tonight I tried and failed to see Frank Miller’s The Spirit at one of the five total daily showings spread across the three remaining theaters still showing the movie on Long Island–failed because the picture quality was so bad that I got up, got a refund, and left.

When the trailers were shown in seemingly the wrong aspect ratio, I thought “uh-oh,” so I ran downstairs and asked the guy at the concession stand to let someone know to fix it. Then the movie started and while the picture didn’t look so badly accordionned inward anymore, it was still ran waaaaay past the top and bottom borders of the screen–credits disappeared right along with the top third of characters’ heads. The picture was also crooked, which I was subsequently informed was due to the angle of the screen, meaning all the movies they charge people to watch in that particular theater are at least that screwed up. To top it all off, what you could see of the picture was murky, and the surround sound wasn’t working to boot.

I know I was a film studies major, but this was in the era of VHS, so I feel like I’m not hugely particular when it comes to things like picture quality. I still don’t have a hi-def TV or a Blu-Ray player, for example. But I also feel like maybe every third time I go to the movies there’s an enjoyment-destroying, super-obvious problem with something. This time it was the picture being all screwed up. When I saw Doomsday it was the sound not being fully switched on. When I saw Let the Right One In it was the theater being north of 80 degrees. And I’m not even getting into the behavior of my fellow moviegoers. It’s to the point where each time I go to the movies, one of my favorite goddamn activities in the goddamn world, I sit down dreading whatever the hell will ruin it this time.

This is the kind of stupid extrapolation from personal anecdotal evidence that makes blogs so, so awful, but I can’t help it: Surely this sort of thing can’t be good for business? I mean, especially in this case, where the movie theater knowingly has a screen set up so that every single thing they show on it will be tilted to one side like you’re in the hideout of Frank Gorshin’s Riddler. That’s some chutzpah, my friends.

Anyway, I’m really angry that I didn’t get to see The Spirit, because I can’t possibly have a lot of time left to catch it in the theater. The end.

STC/BKV/TCJ again

The Comics Journal has posted a preview of my cover-story interview with Brian K. Vaughan from issue #295, which hits stores on Wednesday soon and is already available via the Fantagraphics web store. Click the link and thrill to my scintillating questions in all their conversational, barely comprehensible, transcribed-verbatim glory–not to mention BKV’s thoughts on translating his comics into screenplays, working with franchise characters, union vs. non-union writing gigs, and more.

Comics Time: Skyscrapers of the Midwest

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Skyscrapers of the Midwest

Joshua W. Cotter, writer/artist

AdHouse Books, June 2008

282 pages, hardcover

$19.95

Buy it from AdHouse

Buy it from Amazon.com

The collected Skyscrapers of the Midwest is more than the sum of its parts–and that, friends and neighbors, is really, really saying something. All four of Skyscrapers‘ original issues were dynamite: The first felt like a revival of the old-school one-man anthology altcomix, the second revealed it to be the seeds of a larger story that developed through the remaining three issues, each of which held together as a discrete storytelling unit (gilded with entertaining ACME-style ephemera) but adding depth, breadth, and power to the overall novel. The second issue was, in fact, virtually the perfect comic book. That it sits comfortably between the covers of a larger graphic novel without overwhelming it–that it in fact is enhanced by its new surroundings–is more of a testimonial to Josh Cotter’s work here than I could ever offer.

It’s not just that Cotter’s art take funny-animal-era Crumb crosshatching and doughy character designs; it’s that he applies them to Ware-informed layouts and and subject matter, with the occasional Kupperman-level black-humor interlude thrown in. It’s not just that Cotter matter-of-factly introduces and kills with a seemingly neverending series of crackerjack visual symbols–migraine locusts, cancer squids, God robots, death jetpacks, angel kittens; it’s that sweeping silent sequences where he really lets loose with this stuff segue seamlessly into painfully accurate, rigorously observed recreations of awkward childhood conversations at home, at school, in church. It’s not just that it’s an autobiography that never comes out and says so and is all the more effective for it; it’s that it’s also an equally sensitive and unsentimental portrait of other people in town whose inner lives Cotter couldn’t possibly have access to. It’s not just that it joyously recreates the way pop fantasy figures like He-Man and Marvel superheroes gave kids an outlet for their imaginations above and beyond whatever frequently dreary, yet often wondrous material was actually there; it’s that it also viciously lampoons the material for its benighted assumptions about everything from women to justice, and for the way it literally preyed upon the insecurities of children to make money. It’s not just that it unflinchingly depicts the go-nowhere futility of cancer-ridden, unexamined lower-middle-class life; it’s that it’s also a totally moving tribute to how the relationships we form with one another are the things that last and give us meaning in the face of man’s cruelty to man, man’s cruelty to nature, and God’s cruelty to everything. Skyscrapers of the Midwest, in other words, is simultaneously one of the warmest and the coldest comics ever. It’s brilliant and devastating, and I love it.

A great way to spend your Sunday afternoon

Rereading all 100 Horror Roundtables at Steven Wintle’s late, lamented The Horror Blog.

Carnival of souls

* My favorite mafia story, because it’s the story that does the best job of stripping away the Godfather romanticism and revealing mobsters for the shitty little monsters that they are, is the one about how when one of John Gotti’s civilian neighbor John Favara accidentally struck and killed Gotti’s son Frank his car while Frank was riding his bike, Favara was later forced into a mysterious van and was never seen or heard from again. The case is back in the news as prosecutors allege a Gambino soldier dissolved Favara’s body in acid.

* Hey, look, it’s a trailer for George A. Romero’s next zombie movie, which either is or isn’t called Of the Dead. It’s, uh, yeah.

(Via STYD.)

* Jon Hastings ponders film adaptations’ fidelity to their source material, and why it really doesn’t matter. I think Tom Spurgeon had the best take on fanboy complaints about this subject:

what geek culture really means 99 percent of the time [when demanding films be “faithful to the source material”] is “please don’t put us in a position to be mocked or laughed at.”

I think Jon would agree.

* This made me laugh: Harvey Weinstein apparently knows less about the status of Sin City 2 than your average nerdblogger–he literally had no idea Frank Miller had even been thinking of writing the sequel–whereas actress Jaime King says her boy Frank has finished the script for the thing.

Carnival of souls

* Longtime altcomix figure Bill Kartalopolous returns to blogging with a vengeance, posting three worthwhile stories, noting that Pantheon Publisher Janice Goldklang has been let go–in many ways Pantheon may be the most important comics publisher of the decade, so this strikes me as a major development–and flagging release dates for two massive projects from major creators, David Mazzuchelli’s Asterios Polyp (344 pages, June 2, 2009) and R. Crumb’s The Book of Genesis According to R. Crumb (204 pages, Fall 2009).

* Will Fox and Warner Bros. settle the Watchmen lawsuit? Maybe, probably, I guess.

* Marc-Oliver Frisch weighs in on that big event-comics discussion from a few days ago.

* I’d like to be watching the complete original 1967-1968 series of The Prisoner online for free like everyone else, but the stupid Flash video is too hiccuppy on my computer.

* As far as reviews of movies I still haven’t seen go, Jeff Lester’s Oedipal take on The Spirit entertained me.

* I love the idea of Frank Santoro and Gary Panter rocking out to “Sweet Leaf.”

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Comics Time: Nocturnal Conspiracies

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Nocturnal Conspiracies

David B., writer/artist

NBM, December 2008

124 pages

$14.95

Buy it from NBM

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However their images may resonate with the Jungian collective unconscious, dream comics really do exceed even autobio as sequential art’s most solipsistic genre, a relentlessly inward-looking cataloguing of the contents of the artist’s own head. They’re personal. So I don’t mind filtering this review of a collection of dream comics by the great French cartoonist David B. through my own, equally personal primary reaction to it: They remind me of my own dreams! Like B., I frequently return to action-adventure-thriller scenarios in my dreams, violent vignettes involving skulking, spying, fleeing, and above all the imperative to kill or be killed. Given B.’s background, his antagonists are frequently figures from France’s World War II experience, or terrorists; given mine, my enemies were usually figures from popular culture–zombies, Aliens, mafiosi (terrorists were late entrants). It was enormously comforting for me to discover another mind so consumed with murder and mayhem even when asleep.

The greatest pure stylist of any of the big European cartoonists whose work gets translated these days, B.’s genius lies in how his comics do the same thing that dreams do: Break down full-fledged ideas into simpler, more symbolic totems that remain recognizably of a piece with some waking concern or other but gain power through their abstraction and fluidity. His angular, expressionist style is complemented with both an equally proficient use of curves and an equally stark and judicious deployment of thick blacks and midnight blues–it’s really perfect for evoking the half-remembered mystery and chaos of dreams, even though in actuality those dreams are at the time as realistic-looking as our waking lives. Though the comparatively rigid layouts and the placement of narrative captions at the top of most panels leads to an unpleasantly staccato feel at first, eventually you get used to it–or B. does, I’m not quite sure which; at any rate he occasionally abandons the captions altogether, usually to enhance the shock and the you-are-there feel of what he’s presenting. Beyond the engrossing dreams themselves, Nocturnal Conspiracies of course serves as a showcase for the many, many things David B. draws as well as anyone in the business, from warriors and weapons to hair and breasts; there’s a panel in here that’s the loveliest depiction of sexual penetration I’ve ever seen in a comic. Though less ambitious both narratively and visually than Epileptic, Babel, or the fable comics he’s done in MOME, this is delightful work.