Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Scarlet Johansson Falls To Earth in Under The Skin


Prepare yourself for some beautiful crazy.  Jonathan Glazer, the director of the brilliant Sexy Beast and the stumbling sophomore slump called Birth, returns with this surrealist assault of a teaser trailer.  Under The Skin follows little green man Scarlet Johansson as she wanders the Scottish countryside seducing men and capturing them for her planet's purpose.  The plot feels very Man Who Fell To Earth but the images seen below (NSFW BTW) evokes filmmakers like David Lynch and Neil Jordan.  The film doesn't have US Distribution yet, so don't expect a viewing till some time in 2014.  Sad.  Cuz I'm struggling to get excited for the Fall Releases, and 2013 certainly could have used a mondo gonzo sci-fi flick.


--Brad

New Release Tuesday!!! (9/3/13)


Today's pretty much a bust.  Sure, we've got a few flicks that I want to check out, but there's nothing out there right now screaming for a MUST BUY.  Don't worry though, next week the world will be blessed with Star Trek Into Darkness......uh, yeah....prepare for some epic hypocrisy on ITMOD's part.  Until then, grab your best glue-on Selleck 'stache and roll your pennies because Jesse Stone is all boxed up for your pleasure.

BUY?


Jesse Stone - The Complete Collection:  I grew up entranced by the cool of Tom Selleck.  Magnum P.I. was a staple of our household; to this day I'm just biding my time till The Wife & I can dump our lives and finally set up our Hawaiian detective agency.  Of course, we all know that Selleck was never able to break free from that character.  Despite wildly entertaining films like Runaway & Quigley Down Under, he never made a career out of the big screen like he rightfully deserved.  A few miserable misfires later (Mr. Baseball, Her Alibi) and Selleck simply settled into the TV guy.  Friends, Last Stand At Sabre River, Boston Legal, Monte Walsh.  Some decent stuff, but nothing terribly exciting.  When the Jesse Stone TV Movies plopped onto the boob tube I didn't really bother - they just seemed like the kinda movies the Barnes & Noble grannies consumed and no other.  Then the boys over at cineAWESOME! did their Stonetastic episodes, and they convinced me to purchase the first Robert Parker adaptation.  I was pretty much hooked.  You can read my own Jesse Stone adventures right HERE.  Ok.  They're not "great" films, but they are addictive.  And the series contains a killer cast of background players: Saul Rubinek, William Sadler, Viola Davis, Stephen McHattie, Rebecca Pidgeon, William Devane, Krista Allen, Mimi Rogers, etc.  And now all the Stone films are gathered in one big box complete with your very own PPD Baseball Cap.  But does it come with whisky & depression too?


Bay of Blood:  Kino continues its Mario Bava Blu Ray Collection with this grandaddy slasher.  Here is the film where Jason Voorhees got all his tricks.  Bay of Blood is not as classy or as iconic as Bava's Black Sabbath or Danger Diabolik, but it's certainly more grand guignol with the proper geysers of gore.  And as with previous Bava Kino releases, the bloody reds will look beautifully beastly in HD.


RENT!


The Iceman:  Haven't seen it yet, but Michael Shannon is definitely the guy to play the infamous mafioso hitman.  Just look at that poster!  Is there anything scarier than that stare?  Don't think so.  Too bad Zack Snyder couldn't quite capture the fear brought on by the Shannon brow.  Sure, he made plenty use of his twitchy screams...."I WILL FIND HIM!"  But that's neither here nor there, I'm just doing that blogger thing in which I slam on something while praising another - how very hipster of me?  After all, how else can I fill up this page with drivel?


Now You See Me:  I need to see this simply for the cast.  Word on the street is "mediocre" but I don't think another film this year has assembled a group of actors this eclectic or interesting.  I doubt Michael Caine & Morgan Freeman get much screentime, but I'm excited to see the Zombieland reunion of Woody Harrelson & Jesse Eisenberg.  Plus, Mark Ruffalo always cranks out a good detective.


Empire State:  Well, this just appeared outta nowhere.  How broken is cinema that a film staring The Rock goes straight to DVD?  Or is the real question, how terrible is Empire State that it goes straight to DVD?  Lughead Liam Hemsworth can't cut it in the NYPD so he settles for a gig driving an Armored Car.  Heists & Hijinks ensue, and The Rock shows up to take down the troublemakers.  The trailer looks.......like a movie.  A movie we've all seen a half dozen times already.  Still, Dwayne Johnson is making a play for 2013's Actor of the Year and ITMOD is committed to all of his properties.

AVOID!


The Lords of Salem:  I root for Rob Zombie.  Not sure why as nearly all of his films have disappointed me in some fashion.  The man has a sense of style for sure.  He obviously likes the same movies I like.  But as he pulls from Stanely Kubrick & Roman Polanski he just can't make his copies work on their own.  The Lords of Salem has a great cast of iconic actors, but it's also spearheaded by a vacuous lead performance from Zombie's own wife.  Frankly, if you're into this sorta thing you should probably just watch The Devil's Rain.  It's campy, stupid, beautiful, and genuine.  The Lords of Salem is just another nostalgic pretender to the throne.


Sharknado:  I just can't.  Purposeful "Bad Movie" Making is becoming more than a little tiresome.  I know we live in a pop culture universe where nostalgia is king, and we love to laugh at idiocy as much as we do at real comedy.  But Sharknedo?  It's a tornedo filled with sharks!?!?  That's hilarious!......no, it's dumb.  And the movie looks like crap cuz it is crap and not ironically amazing or whatever.  Stop supporting crap.  Go watch Death Race 2000 instead.


--Brad

Monday, September 2, 2013

Book Review: Yes is the Answer



“This wasn’t rock music.  Was it?  It couldn’t be rock music.  It sounded like science.” -Joe Meno page 266

    I was probably 12 or so when I first heard Emerson, Lake, and Palmer.  I didn’t know what it was.  But I knew it was for me.  Considering how well adjusted I am today, it may come as a bit of a shock to readers that I was a pretty weird kid.  Thanks to parents with distinct and different musical tastes, and two much older brothers with different and distinct musical tastes, I grew up in a household filled with a multi-generational cornucopia of sound.  My mom’s taste was rooted fairly strongly in the 50s, with a dash of light classical.  My dad’s in the 60s, with dashes of I don’t even know what.  My brother Tom was into hard rock and punk.  My brother Bill was into psychedelic rock and blues.  And in what turns out to be a blueprint for my life, I sampled a bit of everything and came out with a jumbled mess of a bit from column A and a bit from row 8.  Give me the broken glass rage of Ministry’s Stigmata, the thunderous pomp of Wagner’s Gotterdammerung, the smooth sounds of Dean Martin, the tinny pluck of Josephine Baker, or the poppy awkwardness of Kate Nash.  I like a little of this, and a little of that.  And one of the things I like, I found out is called Prog Rock (Progressive Rock).  It was an attempt to take music in a new direction; it was the music that was going to carry us into the future.  And I never realized that like so much else in my life, it isn’t cool to like Prog Rock.

These guys seem pretty cool to me.

    But I didn’t know it wasn’t cool.  And I didn’t know it had a name.  I just knew that when I heard Brain Salad Surgery, my mind was totally blown.  I was just discovering the weird and wonderful world of fantasy and science fiction literature and art, with Michael Morcock, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Rodney Matthews, and Frank Frazetta.  And suddenly, it all had a soundtrack.  Soundscapes that carried me to other worlds, flying through ruins of ancient civilizations, battling impossible creatures and machines.  It was as epic as Beethoven, but plugged in.  And I mean plugged in.  It wasn’t just electric, it was cybernetic; like William Gibson’s black ice, hunting me inside my own mind.  To this day, I have never taken any kind of psychoactive drug (or anything stronger than flu meds).  But I feel like I floated through purple haze and ran with Lucy through fields of gumdrops.  When I popped in the cassette (much later, the CD), slid the giant headphones on like a knight's helmet, closed my eyes, and cranked it up…my mind expanded and I felt like the universe opened up.  Matt’s 12 (through 21) year old brain...Blew.  The f*%k.  Up.


    Turns out, I listened to a lot of Prog Rock over the years without ever really knowing it.  I just listened to things I liked.  I could never get into Yes, in the same way I could never get into Mozart.  They were fine on a technical level, but didn’t engage me on an emotional level.  Yet, like Mozart, it was fine to have on in the background.  I lost my taste for Pink Floyd because of the radio.  Genesis because of Phil Collins.  It would take nearly 20 years for me to sit in the Court of the Crimson King for the first time.  But that crazy, classically influenced, science-fiction inspired madness kept bringing me back.  I think perhaps it was because I grew up (musically speaking) after Prog had its day, I listened without baggage, without expectation.  I could hear a band’s entire output in an afternoon or day, and pick what I liked and what I didn’t, without having to wait a year for a new album; without having to face disappointment.  I didn’t have to live through member changes or directional shifts.  It was just there, laid out before me in toto (and yes, sadly even in Toto).  Growing up with such diverse musical tastes surrounding me, and never feeling connected to people my own age, I was used to being outside my own generation’s taste norm.  To this day, I just hate the 90s.  Yes, absolutely, there are some exceptions.  But musically, I think the 90s is one of the worst times in the history of ever.  It was the music of my high school career, and yet, it was never my music.  And while I eventually experienced a certain nostalgic joy with 80s music, even the stuff I used to hate, the 90s still exists as a psychic vampire, draining my hope and will to live.  There isn't enough bleach in the world to get rid of the Grunge.  So, I never had any kind of shame, or any idea that I should have shame, for loving Prog Rock.

Nothing amiss here.

    I bring all that up, because when I picked up Yes is the Answer, I was hoping to get a good solid understanding of the subgenre, its history, and its legacy.  But, for a good part of the book, what I got was sheepish, foot staring monologs on how ‘it was a different time, and I was young;’ diatribes on why Prog Rock sucks.  Admittedly, some of the essays are quite amusing, self-effacing, and biting.  Some of them also feature interesting glimpses into different times and different places.  The youngest writer seems to be about my age, the oldest somewhere between my brothers and my parents.  They come from places like Spain, England, and California.  But wherever or whenever they’re from, they seem to know that liking Prog Rock isn’t cool, something you shouldn’t admit, and its an embarrassing part of their neurotic pasts.  Each chapter is written by a different author, and their backgrounds are very disparate.  Male and female (though, as almost every writer points out, heavily biased toward the male side), some were in bands, some journalists.  Many are novelists.  But most of them have one thing in common, they don’t like Prog Rock.  Most of them did at one time, or knew someone who was really into it.  Only a couple seem to enjoy it in any way now.  And that’s sad.

Chicks dig a flute player in makeup, right?

    If you’re interested in essays about how music effects our lives in countless ways, about the scene in the late 60s through the early 80s, about growing up and burning out, coming to terms with age, this is a good read with some sad bits, some angry bits, and a lot of very funny bits.  If you’re looking for a celebration of an over the top and grandiose subgenre of music we now call Prog, this ain’t it.   Most of the essays are well written and fast moving.  A couple turned out to be slogs.  And I did get some interesting history, as well as a few new bands to check out.  But it’s overall a mixed bag, and not just because it’s an anthology of essays.  While not nearly as rage inducing, the book smacks of hipsterism, which is the pop-culture equivalent of Communism in the 50s, so far as this cat is concerned.  I can't really recommend it, but I wouldn't advice against reading it either.



Yes is the Answer and other Prog Rock Tales
Editors: Marc Weingarten & Tyson Cornell
Publisher: Rare Bird Books
ISBN: 978-0-9854-020-1

-Matt

Comic Review: Thor God of Thunder


    On the long list of Marvel characters I have never given too much thought to, Thor would have to be near the top.  I was scratching my head when I saw that a movie was being made, and then floored when it ended up being my favorite of the pre-Avengers movies.  That prompted me to give the old God of Thunder a try.  Even more surprise was in store for this reviewer when I ended up liking a batch of the comics.  Though I did also stumble over a few particularly bad issues, too.


    When Marvel Now started up, and they re-launched Thor, I gave it a go.  And it’s awesome.  Steeped in the mythology and the mindset of all those old Viking tales, Thor is a god-hero akin to a Beowulf, bold, boisterous, and badass.  Add to that, some beautiful, painterly art and you’ve got a darned fine fantasy comic.  The story, taking place in three time periods is interesting.  Young Thor, current Thor, and far-future Thor all dealing with one single threat, the God Butcher, as he kills his way through the pantheons of the universe.


    My complaint with this volume isn’t the quality, but the quantity.  For $25. you get only five issues, hardly a taste of the story.  A first chapter.  Though the comic itself is quite good, the value here is not.  Especially as this will likely be collected again in a few months or a year, into a larger volume, complete story.  Very much worth reading if you’re into epic fantasy and Norse mythology.  But not worth buying at the price asked.



Thor God of Thunder: The God Butcher
Author: Jason Aaron
Artist: Esad Ribic
Publisher: Marvel Comics
ISBN: 978-0-7851-6842-3

-Matt

Brad's Week in Dork! (8/25/13-8/31/12)


I caught my last film of the summer this week (You're Next) and I'm thankful that this latest horror gem made its way onto my Fistful of Summer 2013.  But the real big screen treat was catching Razorback at the AFI Silver.  Yeah, you read that right.  The Australian Giant Pig movie played this week at The American Film Institute.  What next?!?!?  Dead End Drive-In!?!?!  Uh...that's next week.  Ha!  We certainly do live in a Brave New World.  I've never been happier as a film fan living in the Washington DC area; this may not be L.A. or New York, but we're on our way.


The rest of the week was filled with blu rays and VOD.  Rewatched a couple of 2013 releases, and both Pain & Gain and Trance have shot to the top of my favorite films of this year.  The Rock and Rosario Dawson certainly deliver fun genre bending turns with their respective roles.  Very different, but bother are equally as demented.  The less said about Nicolas Cage in Frozen Ground the better.  How the mighty have fallen (I know, old news, right?).  Matthew McConaughey is certainly making a play for this year's Actor of the Year...too bad none of his movies are quite as good as his performances.  On two separate nights I fell asleep watching Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop 1 & 2 - it's what Netflix was born to do.  And the absolute best movie I watched was A Boy And His Dog.  Holy cow!  It had been a while since my last viewing, and that little beast of a flick floored me.  Truly one of the best blu ray releases of the year.


Razorback:  "Somethin' about blowin' the shit out of a razorback brightens up my day!" This is not simply a Jaws knockoff - it's the ultimate Jaws knockoff! Forget Piranha, forget Orca. They might have the marine life, but Razorback takes the Man vs. Evil Nature plot and uses it to propel its narrative down a music video dreamscape so smokey & cacophonous Tony Scott & Terry Gilliam wake from terror sweats contemplating their failure to capture it's insanity. Bill Kerr is Jake Cullen, a Kangaroo hunter who trades one killing spree for another after a boar the size of a rhino carries off his infant grandson. Partnering with Canadian blank slate Gregory Harrison and wildlife tracker Arkie Whiteley, Kerr navigates an endless display of foreground skulls to rid the outback of the great beast. But is Razorback the real threat, or does the true face of pockmarked evil belong to Dicko Baker and his piggy pleasure squeals?  A lost 80s classic well worth your attention.


You're Next:  This was a deceptive little movie. After years of the internet hype machine, and a batch of mediocre-to-terrible trailers from Lionsgate, I was ready to dismiss You're Next as just another slasher flick in an already redundant genre. And for the first twenty or so minutes, I did not give a good god damn about anything happening on screen. Disgruntled family bickering, killers attack, yawn. But then Sharni Vinson (so bendy and proud in Step Up 3D) reveals herself as one tough cookie, her John Carpenter theme starts thumping, and suddenly I'm cheering for a Final Girl in a way I haven't since Ellen Ripley. You're Next is not a dour, dumb teen slasher. It's a crowd pleaser. A violent, root 'em toot 'em siege film that's got more in common with Assault on Precinct 13 than The Strangers. It's fun! And that's the message that's getting lost in the marketing.


The Frozen Ground:  A couple years back I was really championing the mega acting talents of modern day Nicolas Cage. The man was devastating the silver screen with mountaintop performances in The Bad Lieutenant, Kick Ass, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, and Drive Angry. The internet had turned against Cage, but I was right there with him as he sank into Season of the Witch and Ghost Rider 2. Just fun goofy movies elevated by his commitment to absurdity. But then came Trespass. And Seeking Justice. And Stolen. Yeash. Just absolutely boring direct-to-dvd dreck. Sadly, that trend is not broken with The Frozen Ground. It's a far too serious and dull serial killer pursuit picture; it plays like an A&E attempt at The Silence of the Lambs. And haven't we had enough of those already. Cage is mundane and checked out. I'm sure John Cussack is having a ball playing Next Door Evil, but it's a character we've seen a dozen times before and often better. The Frozen Ground is going to be one of those movies I forget fifteen minutes after I write this sentence. Oh yeah, Vanessa Hudgens is a stripper/prostitute damsel. So what? She's abysmal.


Beverly Hills Cop:  The 80s Action Comedy was born with this Don Simpson/Jerry Bruckheimer production, and Eddie Murphy has never been better than he was here as the wisecracking fish-outta-water Axel Foley. His black man assault on rich white society is infectious.  Axel Foley is the cross hair on Reagan Era consumption, but Beverly Hills Cop is too damn funny to be a genuine cultural critique. Great music, great one-liners, great violence, great Bronson Pinchot. Anything beyond that is just the cherry on top.


Sweet Tooth Volume 1 - Out of the Deep Woods:  Here's a strange one I've been hearing good things about for quite some time now.  Given the fact that I've recently enjoyed Lemire's Underwater Welder, Trillium, and - *gulp* - Green Arrow, I thought it was high time that I tackled his weirdo post-apocalypse book.  The funny thing is, it's not that weird.  Sure, the world has gone to pot.  Children are born these days with antlers, hooves, and snouts, but so far Sweet Tooth displays some fairly typical world-gone-by tropes.   After his pop slips into the nether, our hybrid hero Gus attempts to break free from his religious fear with the help of sharpshooter woodsman, Mr. Jepperd.  But do friends exist in the Apocalypse?  Volume 1 certainly doesn't leave Gus in a better place than where we met him, and by all accounts life is going to get a whole helluva lot rougher before this series reaches its end.  The rest of the Sweet Tooth volumes are at the top of my shopping list for this year's Baltimore Comic Con.


Pain and Gain:  "When it started, America was just a handful of scrawny colonies. Now it's the most buffed, pumped up country on the planet. That's pretty rad." I've never cared for the Mark Wahlberg tough guy routine. I just don't buy it. At the same time, I'm not sure there are too many other actors out there that can achieve the comic heights of his self deprecation. Boogie Nights, The Other Guys, Pain & Gain. When he's playing dolts with delusions of grandeur, Wahlberg is your guy, and his Daniel Lugo just might be his greatest bonehead creation yet. Too bad he gets completely overshadowed by Dwayne Johnson's coke fiend Jesus freak, El Dad. His weak-link convict earns more laughs out of the depravity displayed on screen than any other Bayified scumbag. And speaking of Michael Bay, Pain & Gain is his crowning achievement as well. Where we've all chastised the fratboy for his homophobic, sophomoric, and misogynistic sight gags in the past, his pretty picture fart joke sensibilities are essential to Pain & Gain's success.  Based on True Events?  Yeah.  Crime for laughs?  Yeah.  Awkward?  Yeah.  But it's damn entertaining.


Mud:  The Matthew McConaughey renaissance continues with this Southern Gothic coming-of-age story. Two boys dealing with their own family melodrama discover McConaughey's cross healed hobo living in a boat in the forest. Jeff Nichols, the director of Shotgun Stories & Take Shelter, certainly knows how to pull great performances from his players, but I've found his screenplays lacking in the climax department. The narrative twists are telegraphed a mile out, and I'm more than a little full of the innocence-lost plots.  McConaughey makes it work, but the story is too rote to be memorable.


Beverly Hills Cop II:  "You can never have too much firepower."  After their successful collaboration on Top Gun, Jerry Bruckheimer, Don Simpson, and Tony Scott reteam for this hit-the-beats sequel.  Eddie Murphy is dragged back into Beverly Hills after Rony Cox's Captain Bogomil is gunned down by a member of the Alphabet Gang.  Again we get the Axel Foley ogling of swimming pools and strip clubs, but the one-liner attacks seem less important than the sunsets and explosions.  The comedy comes from the back & forth banter between Judge Reinhold, John Ashton, & Murhpy but this sequel is an action film first solidifying the Bruckheimer/Simpson formula that would go on to bust blocks with Bad Boys, The Rock, and even Pirates of the Caribbean.   It's a slick flick, and a lot of fun, but it's certainly not as refreshingly humorous as the original.


Scott Pilgrim vs The World:  Edgar Wright's bombastic celebration of all things geek - video games!  comics!  anime!  music!  movies!  manga!  hair dye! - is also our generation's answer to The Graduate.  Michael Cera is another lovelorn misanthrope struggling with his apathy when Mary Elizabeth Winstead's roller blading Amazon literally steps out of his dreams to wreak emotional as well as physical havoc.  If Scott Pilgrim wants to get with this beauty he must battle & defeat her League of Seven Evil Exes.  This brilliant structure centered around Street Fighter kombat allows for one hilarious gonzo encounter after the next; the highlights being Chris Evans's skater stunt team and Brandon Routh's telekinetic, vegan douche bag.  You probably have to be of a certain age to appreciate the surreal landscape, but for those folks in the know, Scott Pilgrim vs The World is a biting mockery of our pop culture obsessed lives.  Love & Self Respect may be the answer, but can you achieve such goals while swamped in the imagination of others?  At the very least, Scott Pilgrim proves that Edgar Wright is more than just a Cornetto man, and he's probably the most visually enticing director to land under the umbrella of Marvel Studios.  Forget Avengers 2 and Batman vs Superman, Edgar Wright's Ant-Man is certainly the most fascinating superhero film of 2015.


Trance:  "Bring it to me."  A second viewing of Danny Boyle's latest sealed my appreciation for this neo-noir.  Trance begins as one of those long-con mindbender movies, but as the screenplay works its way to the end, the film reveals itself not as an M Night Shyamalan twister concerned with plot-flipping but a villainous deconstruction of character, proud in the onion its peeled.  The film has heists, gangsters, amnesia, violence, and quite possibly the most interesting Femme Fatale I've experienced (neo or otherwise).  And the fact that this Femme Fatale is played by Rosario Dawson, an actress I've adored for years but who never seems to get the right part, is a real treat unto itself.  This is not Kiss Me Deadly or Chinatown.  Trance is very much a Danny Boyle film, shot with vibrant digital photography and crafting a style decades removed from Sam Spade.  Boyle may have gotten more acolades for his last couple of Oscar baiters, but for my money Trance is the most exciting film he's made since 28 Days Later.


Welcome To The Punch:  I was hoping to follow one dashing James McAvoy scumbag with another, but unfortunately, this Cops & Robbers saga is nothing more than a long snooze.  Mark Strong is a gangland daddy drawn out of the underworld when his son catches a bullet.  It's McAvoy's job to bring him in, but when the boys in blue reveal themselves to be the true villains, the two rivals must team-up John Woo style.  'Course Eran Creevy is no 90s era John Woo, and the action is nothing more than quick cutting and smokescreen i.e. boring.


A Boy and His Dog:  You know how critics (and know-it-all bloggers like myself) will say, "They don't make movies like that anymore?"  And often times you can just simply dismiss that as the bullshit it truly is.  However, with A Boy and His Dog, that annoying sentiment is most certainly the case.  In fact, the real answer is that there is only one A Boy and His Dog.  In the year 2024, World War IV granted the Earth the Nuclear Wasteland it always feared.  It lasted four days and by the end of it all, the only occupations in existence were marauder and rapist.  Unless you're a telepathic dog, then you also have the option of being a female hunter.  That's right, A Boy and His Dog is the story of Don Johnson's rapist and the dog who helps him get his prey.  It's an ugly, mean, angry film.  A movie that could have only come from the mind of science fiction writer Harlan Ellison, and its a miracle that character actor LQ Jones managed to bring it to the silver screen.  Jones had directed only one other film before this, and would only direct an episode of The Incredible Hulk after this.  It is a masterpiece of the genre.  Yes, yes, yes A Boy and His Dog is the precursor to Mad Max and a half dozen other Apocalypse stories.  But this is not anti-hero cinema.  Don Johnson is an evil little shit.  But he's the product of our ignorance, our need for war.  Sure, it's all very hippy dippy, but you gotta respect the rage behind the pen and behind the camera.  Watching the special features on the Shout Factory bluray, you get an understanding of the massive quest it took to get the film adapted, and I am so excited for all the new fanboys this disc will certainly create.


--Brad

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Matt’s Week in Dork! (8/25/13-8/31/13)



    What did I do this week?  After a good start on Sunday, with a surprise trip to DC and Maryland, the rest of my week seems like a haze.  I’ve done a bunch of reading, sure.  But that doesn’t seem to justify the blank that is my memory of this week.

    On Sunday morning, I watched the first disk of Shogun, the classic TV miniseries.  I remember seeing it when I was a wee lad, and I’ve been wanting to revisit it for some time.  The first part is quite good, with a good cast and surprisingly good production value.  Later, Brad and I headed into DC, and stopped by Politics & Prose on Connecticut Ave.  I like that area of DC, and the bookstore is pretty good.  More character than most box stores, but more proper organization than some of the smaller businesses I’ve seen in these parts.  The café was unimpressive, but the rest of the store was quite nice.  From there, we headed up to favorite haunt, Silver Spring, where we hit the AFI to see Razorback.  Yeah.  Razorback…at the AFI.


Razorback:  On my long list of movies I never conceived of seeing on the big screen, Razorback would be pretty high.  This art-film/giant-boar film is crazy.  I mean, it’s CRAZY.  Don’t go to Australia.  That seems to be the moral of the story.  So 80s.  So Australian.  So much Dicko.  It’s kind of a must for fans of weird film.


Twixt:  OK, so this movie really isn’t good.  It’s watchable, but not particularly well made.  However, Val Kilmer is great.  I like this bloated, middle-aged Kilmer.  He has an odd, slightly desperate charm.


Myra Breckinridge:  One of the worst films of all time?  I can’t argue with that.  This is one of those famous turkeys that turns out to be just as bad as everyone says (like Ishtar).  Everyone feels miscast.  The direction and editing are atrocious.  The humor is broad and clumsy.  And the big sin: it’s boring as all get-out.

Still more fun than watching the movie!

Oklahoma!:  Some catchy tunes and good performances make for a fun musical from that genre’s golden age.  It’s not amazing.  It’s not gonna go on my list of best musicals.  But it’s still a good, solid film.  The humor in it is quite cheeky for an American film of that era, with some jokes I’m surprised slipped past the censors.


    I did some prep-work for trying to put together a game group again.  I’ve got some stuff going on in my life right now that may keep that in a holding pattern for a bit.  But I have more hope about getting something going than I’ve had in a long time.



-Matt

Baltimore Comic-Con part 2C – Still more preparation or Will this never end?



Comic convention preparation.  In the first part I discussed prepping your display and table.  In the second part I went into some detail about prepping your own mini-comics (or chapbooks, as my pretentious self likes to call them).  This time out, we’re talking about selling.  I’m sure you all have seen a salesperson at work, whether you were the target or just an innocent bystander.  You all know about the hard sell.  Many of you have probably worked retail at one point in your life – and for that, I take pity on you. 


This isn’t that.  Though I do expect there will be some “obvious” stuff scattered in this segment (which, I’m certain, we all hope will be a bit shorter than the last two).  [I don't! -Matt]

So.  Here’s something that should be self-evident.  Have a package (in this case, your comic book) that is appealing visually.  There’s the subjectivity of taste to overcome with this one, obviously, but you can alleviate some of the issues with a little thought and preparation beforehand.  As stated in my previous segment, having a single, bold image as your cover is one thing that can help you stand out against the rest.  Whether you approach “bold” through the use of color, texture (as with some heavy cardstock, screen printed covers), or the imagery itself doesn’t matter.  Just keep this in mind when creating your cover.  The interiors should be equally compelling, because if you can hook passersby with your cover, the next step, for them, is to page through the book. 


If you want some great advice on comic art and how pages play off one another within a comic, go to the archive at Comics Comics and The Comics Journal and do a search on Frank Santoro, who was a regular contributor and editor at Comics Comics and is a current contributor to the Comics Journal site.  The man knows art, knows comics, and understands how the grid and the page work within the distinct visual lexicon of comics.  My only advice in this area, and this only applies to anyone including text with their comics, is to make sure that there are comic stories at the staple in your book, because your book will naturally fall open at that middle point, and when prospective customers seeking comics find a bunch of words filling up those pages, it doesn’t take long for them to move to the next table. 


This might be another obvious one, but don’t be pushy when you’re standing behind the table selling your book.  Acknowledge people as they pass by, ask them how their show’s going, offer them the chance to page through the book if they come over – in short, give them a chance to decide, for themselves, they want to read what you’ve helped create.  But don’t be the guy yelling across the aisles for people to check out his book, or take his card, or “come on over,” because you’ll be driving more people away than you’ll be dragging in.  And, you’ll be driving these people away from your neighbors’ tables as well.  Not cool.  I’m certain some people will tell you differently, but despite how much this goes against Selling 101, I just haven’t seen it work.

Now, perhaps the most important thing to consider, but something many people may not even give a second’s thought – myself and Dan having once fallen into that group.  Go where your audience is.  You may be thinking – duh, I’m setting up at a comic convention.  And that is true.  But which convention are you exhibiting at, and what kind of comic are you bringing to the show?  Dan and I first set up at Wizard World Chicago in 2005.  The shows we’d attended prior to that one, we both haunted artists alley in search of books that were quirky, distinct visions of their creators, not cookie cutter superheroes that couldn’t make the grade at Marvel or DC.  We expected we weren’t the only ones.  So we brought our black-and-white, comics/prose anthology – lacking any superhero stories – to a big convention highlighted by the presence of the large publishers that do color comics about superheroes, for the most part, and we tanked.  The following year, we went to the Small Press Expo in Bethesda, Maryland, a show highlighted by self-publishers and smaller publishing houses that specialize in black-and-white comics almost completely devoid of superheroes.  We had found our audience.  And we did very well. 


Finally:  what is your comic about?  That first show in Chicago, Dan and I were never able to answer that question the entire four days there.  We hadn’t considered this basic point of our book and weren’t helped by the fact that it was an anthology.  With the next few issues we thought about what we were trying to say with the stories in each issue – and you can affix an overall theme after the fact as easily as crafting stories around a set theme.  Our second book was the “difficult relationships” issue, while the third was our “reflections on faith” issue, which had the first photo-cover by Shane Leonard, who has since created variant covers for Joe Hill & Gabriel Rodriguez’s Locke & Key series.  And when we put together the collection, our pitch became a bit longer:  “an anthology with stories in multiple genres, from zombie westerns to UFO stories, by artists in multiple countries, from the Philippines to Tanzania, along with short prose and interviews with comic luminaries such as Chris Staros, Gary Groth, Bryan Talbot, and Joe Quesada.”  It’s not easy to condense the scores of hours, hundreds of words, and thousands of lines of ink into a ten-second pitch, but it might be the most important skill for you to master.  Because not only will it help you in selling your books, but it will also be a necessary skill for when you start pitching longer series and have to provide a synopsis to an editor.  Starting now can only help.

You can read much more from Chris at Warrior 27! (or click on On the Fly Publications over on My Blog List to the right of this page).