Saturday, March 1, 2014

Marching through a Storm

Sorry about the delay.  Here's this month's quota of Calendar images.

March 4 - First Tavern in Boston Opened 1634 - Steele's Philosophy: Everybody should believe in something--I believe I'll have another drink.

March 13 - Standard Time Established 1884 - Segal's Law: A man with one watch knows the time.  A man with two is never sure.

March 15 - Only 32 Days Till Tax Day - The Salary Axiom: The pay raise is just large enough to increase your taxes.

March 17 - St. Patrick's Day - Murphy's Advice: Don't worry... nobody gives a hoot anyway.

March 21 - Parson's Law of Passports: No one is as ugly as their passport photo.

March 26 - The Student Tautology: The teacher is never absent on the day of the exam.

Friday, February 28, 2014

A Pundit of Clichés

I just recently came across a helpful page full of the most overused lines in movies, which consist of wonderful sentences such as:

“I won’t let you do whatever you want!”
“I love you!”
“Look out!”
“Let’s get outta here!”

While the notion of relying on repetitive lines is nothing new, it's the constant repetition of the very themes that these lines convey that cause discomfort among film critics and audiences.  To get an idea of whether the movie you're watching is heavily cobbled from multiple sources, just induce the drinking game whenever any character says any of the following.  If you're unable to stand up or see straight after 20 minutes, chances are that you're watching a B-movie of epic proportions.

As mentioned, the above phrases are used quite a lot in Anime, basically because (with few exceptions) the villain wants is pretty much that: does whatever he wants.  There was a forum that threw them all together to create the beginnings of a screenplay:

HERO/INE: “I won’t let you do whatever you want!”
MAIN SQUEEZE: “Look out!”
HERO/INE and VILLAIN fight; HERO/INE wins but VILLAIN starts self-destruct mechanism.
HERO/INE: “Let get outta here!”
Ka-BOOM
MAIN SQUEEZE: “I love you.”

=The End=

Kinda predictable, but serviceable. However, jumble it up and...

VILLAIN: “I love you.”
HERO/INE: “I won’t let you do whatever you want!”
Villain and Henchman attempt to do whatever they want; HERO/INE pulls gun.
HENCHMAN: “Look out!”
VILLAIN: “Let’s get outta here!”

=The End=

Hmmm, still kinda predictable, though good enough for Cinemax, I suppose. Let’s roll the dice yet again...

VILLAIN: “Let’s get outta here!”
HERO/INE: “I won’t let you do whatever you want!”
MAIN SQUEEZE: “I love you.”
HERO/INE: “Look out!”

=The End=

Ends on a note of jeopardy, doesn’t it? Must be a sequel in the offing.  Of course, we could just turn it into a short film...

MAIN SQUEEZE: “I love you. Let’s get outta here!”
HERO/INE: “Look out! I won’t let you do whatever you want!”

=The End=

Hentai might go this way–

VILLAIN tries to hit HERO/INE with a battle-axe. Sidekick points at weapon–
SIDEKICK: “Look out!”
HERO/INE: (points at VILLAIN) “I won’t let you do whatever you want!”
VILLAINwinks at HERO/INE then laughs. Suddenly a lot of tentacles shoot out of VILLAIN’s butt.
VILLAIN: “I love you!”
HERO/INE and SIDEKICK both look at each other.
HERO/INE: “Let’s get outta here!”
Tentacles grab HERO/INE and SIDEKICK, then creepy synch music kicks in and I turn around to my friends and say,
ME: “Why did you guys rent this?!”

=feh!= The trick is not to ADD new dialog but to tell a story with what you’ve got. However, if we play with the punctuation...

MAIN SQUEEZE: “Let’s!”
Gestures to Hero/ine’s garments.
MAIN SQUEEZE: “Get out!”
HERO/INE measures anticipated distance with hands.
HERO/INE: “To here? Look!” [SFX: Zipper] “Out!”
MAIN SQUEEZE: “I love you!”
HERO/INE: “I won’t let you.”
MAIN SQUEEZE: “Do what you want!”

m’kay, let’s try this – The end of almost any episode near the end of a GUNDAM series run.

(Villain and HERO/INE stand in the remains of a space colony surrounded by broken giant robots after a tremendous battle that destroyed the colony)
(Villain points a finger at HERO/INE)
VILLAIN: “I won’t let you love me!”
(HERO/INE in a freeze frame, looking puzzled, as speed lines fly and camera pulls back)
(Before HERO/INE can react, the room starts to shake. Bits of the ceiling fall)
HERO/INE: “I–Look out!”
HERO/INE covers his/her face then reaches for VILLAIN.
HERO/INE: “Let’s get outta here!”
(VILLAIN turns back, looks over shoulder)
VILLAIN: “Do whatever you want.”
(VILLAIN walks away as room falls to pieces. HERO/INE stares, squinches one eye, then runs the other direction out of the decaying room in disgust.)

Like TVtropes, not all cliches are bad.  It's just when so many of them are overused and prevalent that the threads begin to show in the patchwork.  What would make for a much more interesting result is if somebody took the typically overdone phrases and reworked them into an entirely different meaning than the scenes they're usually associated with.  To shake things up, you could try to change things around so that some phrases would have completely different meanings.  The overall result would be something that would be much more interesting than the typical trailers that are released nowadays.

With this frameset in mind, I had the bright idea to try to garner a kind of mishmash screenplay that consisted of nothing but clichéd dialogue.  Go ahead and try it yourself!  See if you can convey something resembling a comprehensible story out of these standalone lines.  Fun!


After some imaginative re-interpretation, I came up with the following trailer for a movie that probably won't be coming out anytime soon.

Ubiquitous Studios Present:

Cliché the Movie

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Delayed Reaction Crying

I've written before about some emotional scenes that've affected me, and since it was the month of February, figured it was time to expand the list.  As mentioned, there was Moto Hagio's Hanshin, of conjoined twins which was reprinted in A Drunken Dream.  But there's also The Willow Tree, a short mostly silent comic about an anthropomorphic representation of a lone tree in a field that I won't bother spoiling.  Even Trina Robbins in the foreword cautioned having tissues handy when reading it, and even with that warning, it still made me cry.

But there's another realm of tearjerker scenes that only affect me AFTER I reread them.  This is in a different kind of reaction than the emotional gut-punch that turns on the waterworks like there's no tomorrow.  I didn't cry the first time I read them, but when I reread them a second time, I do.  Knowing the story behind the build-up and prelude beforehand is what sets me off.

Before going onto the field of slow build sucker punches, I might as well expand upon the list of comic pages that never fail to bring a tear to my eyes, whether I know about them or not.

The top contender would be in Please Save My Earth where after a brutal psychic battle, the poster bad boy, Rin starts to have nightmares of his former life as Shion.  Shion's past as a constantly abused war child finding solace only found refuge when he was found by Nuns who relocated him to a safe haven.  He's later put in care of a guardian acting as a foster parent, Lazlo.  Even though Lazlo treats Shion respectfully, Shion is still alien to the idea of being in a family, having known war all his life, and is unsure how to handle his teasing personality.  Eventually, he gets in a fight with some other kids at school over his status as a war orphan to the point where the bully needed stitches.  Rather than reprimand him for his actions or outright scold him for inappropriate behavior in the face of teasing, Lazlo simply forgives him for his actions, and treats him with nothing but kindness..

I simply can't understand the purpose and meaning of forgiving someone doing what would be considered a reprehensible act, but that simple act of kindness towards his trauma never fails to break me up, either in animated form, printed page or memory.  And then he died in a car accident shortly after, causing further damage to Shion's psyche.  "What'll I do if you aren't there?" is constantly running through his head.  Alice (Rin's reincarnated love interest) attempts to soften this rush of painful memories by singing to his sleeping body.  Child abuse is such an overdone cliche that acts of trying to undo that kind of damage is extremely rare.

Naoki Urasawa is a great manipulative storyteller for constantly creating stories that plucks at the heartstrings.  As much as I enjoy his work, I can't really recommend his latest series Billy Bat, because it's filled with silly conspiracy theories that don't quite mesh, such as another look at the JFK assassination and the fake Moon Landing, which was debunked with Darryl Cunningham's excellent comic essay on the topic, along with other Science subjects.  Not to mention the titular character, which is supposed to be representative of 1930's newspaper comics looks closer to a Modern-Day Manga with funny animals.  His reliance on children as hostage devices doesn't help either.

His masterpiece, 20th Century Boys is much more tightly plotted, and is particularly unique in that it has not one, but TWO emotional scenes in it.  The first is where a character grew up being basically ignored through life, and had no pictures of him as a child finally getting his sense of worth justified when his childhood teacher handed over a long-forgotten photo of him.  To me, its akin to hearing stories of war survivors where family memories of their deceased relatives is proven only through rare photos, because the frames were worth money, and the pictures were tossed away only because they had sentimental value.

The second scene is where Kanna finds a video of her absent mother, after believing that she was responsible for the virus that destroyed the world, only to find out that her comparison to Godzilla was more out of in scales of destruction rather than taking pride in such an act.  (A Robert Oppenheimer "I am become Death Destroyer of Worlds" kind of thing)  Then the video ends with her determination to stop the virus, and a last barely audible message to her child to "Be happy."

That does it for the straightaway tearjerkers.  Now, here's the second half - the slow build-up to the emotional gut-punch that affects me that when I reread them.

I'm no stranger to seeing Death on the comics page, but the notion of someone dying has lost its shock value, especially considering how cheap it is.  (Especially when they come back to life)  I'm much more interested in the question of how long someone can possibly survive while in hostile and potentially hazardous territory.  This is why I prefer Suspense to Horror, because unlike the latter, you're more likely to care for what the characters are going through.  Death would only be a release for them.  While other people are affected by the deaths of household pets, such as Old Yeller and W3B, I have no such comparisons.  To me, the concept of the livelihood of animals is a binary equation.  They're either dead or alive.  There's no middle ground.

Where this differs is in the first story (or sixth, chronologically speaking) in Matt Kindt's Super Spy, a collection of loosely-connected stories set in WWII.  It shifts between the life of a girl visiting a seal in a zoo and her grown-up life unwittingly sheltering people for the Resistance.  Everytime the girl sees the seal, she tosses a pebble over to his cage, and watches in glee as the salty dog eagerly gobbles the little treat up.  She continues in this vein for several days, in absolute joy, until the seal exhibit is closed.  It turns out that all the rocks she'd fed the seal wound up lodged in its stomach, and it died.  The key closing words "I had no idea" never fails to impact me, because there are multiple instances where I've wound up hurting someone without realizing the consequences of my actions.  The equivalent would be a kid feeding their dog chocolate, figuring they'd like it as much as they do, not knowing that the sugar would be poison to their body.

This is also tangentially related to the next scene.  Throughout the magical Gorn-filled world of Dorohedoro, there's been hints of Nikaido's reluctance to use her time travel magic, which had been hinted at causing the death of a friend of hers.  It isn't until the 12th volume that we finally get some context for the backstory that's been building up all this time.  It turns out she first started to experiment with her magic when she was still a child, and went back at a pivotal moment in time.  When she came back to her present time, she was confused as to why no one remembered her sister Yakumo.  Since she'd never seen any Time Travel movies, it took her awhile to put the pieces together.

Because she interrupted her parents at the crucial moment in time that would've saved a baby from the water, they never had an extra child in their house.  It was only when she explored past the river that she saw a headstone commemorating a grave of a nameless baby who'd drowned that she understood what she'd done.  The result caused a mental block that prevented her from using her magic again, since it was too dangerous, when she was too young to understand its power.

Unlike the others which I've been able to analyze the specific reasons behind their emotional issues, this last one is something I have trouble rationalizing properly.  For some reason, the cover of last chapter of Sandman's epic arc, Brief Lives, which gives bullet points of what the epilogue contains in a circular arc in the middle of the page before ending on a repeat of the Title Drop.  (For some reason, the Trade is missing the first heading, Farwells.  Whether this is corrected or removed in later printings, I haven't checked)  Unlike the others on this list, it confuses me why this particular layout affects me so much.  It's not as if there's any emotional trigger in it.  There's nothing truly remarkable about the cover.  It barely even visually represents any of the images in the chapter.  And yet like the various tactical stimuli that make Erika "DAR!" Moen climax, it affects me.  I have no idea why.

Are there any other scenes out there that have similar impacts on you?

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Balloon Product Placement


Ever since humans started becoming more sophisticated with their grunts to the point of making comprehensible speech, mankind has been trying to capture the pure essence of what passes for talking in a concentrated form.  Whether you're using quotation marks or speech balloons, it's all done in a way to emphasize the invisible realm known as dialogue.  This in turn has led to the annoying principle known as trying to figure out how and where to place the characters so that anything they say won't wind up obscuring the artwork.

This is a common fault of aspiring writers who believe they have something worthy to say and wind up putting to pen more lines than is actually needed.  Achille Talon (Walter Melon) is well-reputed for never settling using one word when two dozen will do.  One of the most important rules in cartooning is to make sure that the words don't wind up covering up more space than necessary.  Oftentimes, this means being forced to draw smaller, rather than do some creative script editing.

But that practice while practical, can limit the alternate possibilities of putting a balloon.  The regular ritual of having our words hang above our heads is so commonplace that it's difficult to imagine any other possible way to do it.  Some of the earliest examples presented speech in the form of scrolls, since that was how prose was done at the time.  Note that the written word isn't kept level, but written to the side and almost upside-down.  The form of free-floating words was something considered intangible.

This is perfectly understandable, since any exploration into a new medium is hampered only by experience within the limits of past mediums.  The first television shows were set on a stage with the same backgrounds since that was how plays were done.  It was only when people experimented with the form that they found out it didn't have to be restricted to a single camera view, and so all kinds of rotoscoping tricks were discovered and later implemented in various ways.  It's the same with cartoonists.  Less common, is to have the balloon below the character's head.

I had planned to show an example of an old comic that had word balloons embedded in the crouching character's stomach, almost obscuring the action, but was unable to find it again.  To get an idea of the busy artwork, it looked like the people were talking from their stomachs.  The closest comparison I could find would be this example from Nylon Road.  The practice of having word balloons over our heads is so ingrained in comics that when there are exceptions to the rule, they tend to stand out.  The closest equivalent today would be to have text boxes floating all over the monologuing character, but that's not quite the same thing.

Eventually, this practice of having text at the bottom was regulated to one-panel comics such as The Far Side and New Yorker cartoons.  In the case of the latter, the art comes before the text, and it's only with the text that we get some comprehension of the scene going on.

In Manga, there's the benefit of having vertical text, which allows for more room, and also allows more general freedom of sound refraction.  Usually, the word balloons are put right besides the characters, sometimes in dual balloons surrounding them from both sides in stereo fashion.   Another added bonus is that sometimes the outlines of the character's bodies can be slightly transparent, so there's not as much detail lost when blocking certain features.

Another concept is to do away with balloons themselves and just have the barest outlines visible, much in the same way as Doonsbury or Feiffer comics.  A similar tack is to have a page of black panels interposed with expositionary internal monologue in place of showcasing various headshot perspectives or views of buildings.  This practice is so prevalent in Josei comics that there was a page in the 4th volume of Tokyopop's Your & My Secret that was printed with no artwork showing - just the text - and no one seemed to notice.

One of the most troubling aspects of a page loaded with dialogue is that there can be some general confusion about which side is talking.  This can be offset by the person's body language and the general surroundings.
In some cases, you're fortunate if the order they speak doesn't really matter.

Normally, when balloons are sandwiched between panels, it's so the character above or below is speaking. Very rarely are they used for the same person talking at two different phases of time.

But using the panel space divers (gutters) isn't the only way to make use of blank space that could be put to better use.  In Orbital, we got an innovative way to have a character talk to someone across them without having the balloon tail intruding across the scene - just use the comic "gutters" as a shortcut.


It all comes down to what is considered more important in the story - what the characters look like, or what they're saying?  To a writer, the aspect of getting details across the board right is considered essential, and it would look like lazing off if they put more time in describing a scene than on the character interactions, hence the need for extra words in order to show their work.  But to an artist, their ability lies in getting the story across, even without any dialogue.  (This usually gets shoehorned into the realm of hitting people, which while quite exciting, is violently limited)

This is further compounded by the added challenge of mentally rearranging the characters in all kinds of positions and camera angles in order to configure the best "capture" moment that'll leave enough room for text that won't seem intrusive.  For most, this prospect can seem an intimidating task, and is usually regulated to the staypoint of above their heads, since that's easiest.  But it shouldn't be the only dependent safety method.  Rigorously sticking to the 180-degree rule doesn't always mean shifting the camera so that everybody is facing front.  Use your imagination to find innovative ways for your characters to talk.





Saturday, February 8, 2014

Weird Romance: Sir Rodney and...

When it comes to portraying romantic love triangles, it usually comes in the form of a bitter love rival between two potential suitors, and their attempts at underhanded methods while showering their affections towards their potential mate.  One interesting thing I found out while reading a book about female bullying is that oftentimes when two girls are fighting over a boy, they're not really interested in the boy himself, but in asserting their power and dominance over who they're fighting with.  Once they've accomplished their goal and reduced their rival to tears and tarnished their reputation, they effectively write off the boy, having no more interest in him since he's served his purpose.

Because girls have been taught from birth not to fight, they've been forced to suppress their instincts and hone them into the realm of talking things out which is "nicer" and "more appropriate".  This often leads to backstabbing and veiled compliments instead of actually saying what they really feel.  In the few instances where squabbling girlfriends broke protocol and actually said what they were so mad about (which is usually over a slight the other party weren't even aware of), the other side is relieved at having an answer to their long-standing feud, and they quickly make up after.

However, in the Kingdom of Id, the legendary knight's interests lean more towards a rival that can't be fought from passive aggressive methods via innuendo and rumour in the Royal court.

In most instances of a pet in the vicinity of a romantic interest stealing away their master's valuable attention time, the general reaction is one of outright jealousy.  However, there's no such worries here.  His horse seems completely oblivious to all the subtle complications outside of his largely sheltered life.  Gwen is unable to break past the unbreakable and unspoken relationship between a man and his steed.  The modern equivalent which would be the love between a man and his car, which has similar connotations of sexual promiscuity, subliminal suggestiveness and uncomfortable make-out points.

Despite her affectionate attention she devotes towards Sir Rodney, he doesn't even seem to see the downside of not spending time with an actual human being who's interested in him.  This extends even when he's given ultimatums.

What makes this relationship unusual is how back and forth this level of affection goes.  As long as we're switching sides, I might as well show a duplicate comic just recently discovered:

When Gwen is not pursuing her failed amour knight in tarnished armour, he's more devoted to making sure his faithful ride has a freshly sheen coat.  On the flip side, when Sir Rodney is trying to impress the reluctant Princess with his dubious achievements, he comes off as being a lesser prize than the more suitable offerings out there.

In fact, outside of his cowardly attempts at getting out of suicide missions, his most outstanding feature is the one in front of his face.  One wonders how such a consistent bungler managed to rise above the ranks in the first place to get the attentions of a fair maiden in the first place.  A likely suspicion is that of all the disastrous campaigns he was on, he was promoted on virtue of being the only survivor.

Equally telling is that when given the choice, she'd rather choose to stay in a prolonged coma rather than spend any of her valuable time with her fellow man.  Not once, but twice.  Subconsciously and consciously.

In Westerns, you were permitted to kiss your horse but never your girl.
- Gary Cooper

Saturday, February 1, 2014

February is in the air. How Romantic.


Feb. 2 - Groundhog Day - Maryann's Law: You can always find what you're not looking for.

Feb. 6 - Farrell's Law: The most expensive component is the one that breaks.

Feb. 14 - Valentine's Day - Jana's Law of Love: A dandelion from a lover means more than an orchid from a friend.


Feb. 18 - Washington's Birthday Observed / President's Day - Rule of Political Primises: Truth varies.

Feb. 19 - Edison Patents Phonograph 1878.  Ron's Observation: The scratch on the record is through the song you like most.

Feb. 24 - Gregorian Calendar Replaces Julian Calendar 1582 - Thal's Law: For every vision there is an equal and opposite revision.


Feb. 27 - Williams and Holland's Law: If enough data is collected, anything may be proven by statistical methods.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Time-saving Inventions?

Since the dawn of time, mankind has sought out ways to increase their leisure time by working hard trying to figure out how to make life easier for them.  Such innovations are usually met with the skeptical air of people who don't like being introduced to new ideas, no matter how much it could make things more bearable.  Unless you're looking to reinvent the wheel or find new elements invisible to the human eye, chances are most homespun inventions are going to be of the modest sort.

In some cases, it's using household items they way they were meant to be used.  In some cases, it's using everyday objects in a new innovative way.

And then there's using simple time-saving methods.  Adam's attempts at trying to
usually ended in failure.

I attempted making a Rube Goldberg-like invention mostly inspired by the children's book A Big Ball of String where the boy installed a series of pulleys and levers around his room so that the slightest tug would result in opening the window, snagging his coat, closing the door or turning on the light.  I devised an elaborate system using a combination of jump rope, an exercycle and various chairs located around the room.  With patience, this confusing combination allowed me to turn off the light in the room.  The euphoria of success of the moment was spoiled by a fundamental flaw in the creation: "How do you turn the light back on?"  I'd been so focused on going to the trouble of figuring out how to turn off the lights that it never occurred to me that someone might want the other option.  The only sensible way to do that was to manually flick the switch by getting close to the wall socket where all the rope was in the way.  Imagine a mess of tangled wires behind a TV or computer out in the open and you'd be somewhere close. Sometimes innovation can only carry you so far.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

The Immaturity of 'Mature' Comics

I'm going to be going a little out of my comfort zone and share my thoughts regarding S-hero comics.  First off, let me apologize for not bringing up comics that don't follow the grim and gritty mode, such as Mark Waid's Daredevil and the relaunched Astro City line.  My ignorance can be chalked up to not as interested in S-hero comics as most other people.  One reason for this may because I was exposed to Gentleman Jim at an early age, which showed the implausibility of an actual Robin Hood figure in real life.  This tale of a somewhat slow-witted menial sanitation worker (toilet cleaner) suffering a mid-life crisis with naive delusions of grandeur such as becoming a spy, an arial bomber, an artist, an executive or a Cowboy with no formal training.  His attempts at trying to rise up from the dregs of society into something better and winding up in jail for his actions surely struck its demoralizing message for British children there.

If I'm describing Gentleman Jim as being a grim affair, I'm doing a disservice - it's actually quite funny.  Reading it as a child, it seemed relentlessly downcast, but rereading it as an adult, there's a lot of subtle humour that would go by unnoticed.  A lot of it has to do with Jim's naive look at the world and his lack of knowledge or common sense from his experiences with dime novels and movies.  In that sense, he's closer to a modern-day Don Quixote who's inconvenienced with finances and Government regulations.  For instance, he can't afford a handheld pistol, and settles for a cheap children's popgun instead.  That children's comic may be why British comic writers don't care much for S-heroes.

There's been a rash of editorial decisions on S-hero comics that's left fans feeling perplexed and betrayed.
An ineffectual Superman who's crying all the time, cutting funding for a show because it was attracting more female fans than males.  (One wonders if the support and popularity of My Little Pony would remain as high if it didn't have such a high rate of Bronies), Mark Millar's controversial comics with S-hero jerks, a Spider-Man without his girlfriend Mary Jane as a love interest, and being mentally replaced by Dr. Octopus who approved of torture,.  Dan Slott even went on record saying that he greatly identified with Dr. Octopus over Peter Parker, which was why the mad scientist took over Spider-Man's body for the majority of his run.

The original creators who wrote and drew these comics were reactionaries who did their service in the war, and brought that frustration onto the page for the world to see.  The problem comes when transferring that intent to new creators and writers who know nothing of that kind of life, and strive to create the kind of conflict and drama that today's audiences would supposedly appreciate, when it's more closely linked to their narrow point of view.  I'm not the only one who's noticed these kinds progression towards darker and grimmer stories.  John Byrne in particular had this to say:
'I'm really tired of seeing myself referred to as "bitter". Let's get this really clear and straight in all our minds (no matter how tiny and useless some of those minds may be): I am not bitter. I am ANGRY.  I have seen comics, an entertainment form once intended for the widest possible audiences, and an entertainment form to which I have dedicated a most of my adult life, turned into a niche market exercise in mutual masturbation for aging fanboys and ennui engorged bungee jumpers.  I have seen characters I grew up loving and admiring, and even perhaps trying to emulate, turned into bleak, empty, virtually pornographic caricatures of themselves.  I have seen something which was once done purely for the love of it turned into something that is all about money.  And, ladies and gentlemen, I am PISSED.'
And then he went go out of his way to create S-heroes that were pale imitations of the very concepts that he was complaining about.  John Byrne's Trio is a direct rip-off of The Fantastic Four, only with some mix-and-matching here and there, and an overreactory expository narrative.  But maybe expecting a comic creator to reinvent the very genre that he helped define in his heyday in his later years again is asking for too much.

That level of Claremont-style text bubbles and speech is so ingrained into the American psyche that its difficult for other writers to even conceive of an alternative that doesn't contain these pulp themes.  It's more unusual for an S-hero NOT to engage in the type of over-the-top banter typical of Wrestlers, down to the silly uniformed figure in tights (a mainstay of the strongman figures in circus sideshows) that have long since surpassed the reason why such designs were necessary in the first place.  One thing that Marvel did that was considered revolutionary at the time was to capitalize on the public's fears and reactions at the time, which was expressed by the hero's reactions to their newfound powers.  There was general concern about radiation, so heroes got powers through these unconventional norms instead of Cancer.  Likewise, the heroes took on personalities that resonated with their audience.  The Hulk was emblematic of fears of radiation, Spider-Man was adolescent angst.  This was a vast improvement over other heroes who got their powers through by injecting whatever handy chemicals lying around into their veins or outright intentionally doing hazardous things such as plunging themselves into molten steel or swallowing harmful substances.  (These things actually happened)

The problem stems from harping back to these concerns in a modern setting when audiences wouldn't be as receptive of these trappings which would no longer be seen as innovative or clever.  These elements can be avoided by updating or eliminating some of the more problematic parts of their origins and stories, but for the most part, they're firmly set in the past.  A modern-day example of how such fears can be channeled would be during the time of the Columbine shootings, apart from the tenuous connection between violent video games and black trenchcoats, there was discovery of nihilistic writings in the pages of the shooters' journals, which led to an outcry of paronoia and censorship from students having to suppress their innermost thoughts from being expressed.  That indirectly led to the creation of Death Note.  It also led to a large outbreak of Seinin with Magnificent Bastards overwhelmed with power (Lost - Brain, Code Geass, Linebarrels of Iron).  However, without a Columbo-esque rival to oppose them, they wound up being fairly unlikeable.

Because comics are filled with underdogs trying to win against all odds, you begin to identify with the ones on the receiving end for constantly failing despite their efforts.  As a result some fans began to sympathize with the villains for always losing.  So stories of anti-heroes and villains willing to get their hands dirty became popular.  It's basically the difference between rescuing kittens in trees and  doing necessary assassinations.  One was classified cool, the other outdated for a new age.  What needs broader attention I think, is a wider scope of Anti-Villains - people that have all the traits that make up a villain, but don't display any of the actions or desires that typically define a villain.

Perplexingly enough, S-hero comic companies have the paradoxical nature of hiring people who openly admit that they don't like writing S-hero comics.  Garth Ennis in particular whose works include Hitman, The Boys and The Pro all have mean-spirited takes on S-hero concepts.  (Ironically though, he's a great admirer and writer for Superman)  Brian Michael Bendis got his start by writing noir-style comics before being hired to write for Spiderman and Daredevil, which resulted in a wave of longer comic stories that took months to tell.  The problem with this kind of decompression is that while it works better when collected, it's hell waiting for the next installment, especially when there's long reams of monologue and very little payoff.  And when other writers were forced to comply with the Bendis model, they were accused of "writing for the trade" and creating the death knell for pamphlet comics, since you would get the whole story there instead of monthly allotments.  The main problem was having four issues of a 5-issue storyarc having only talking, and one issue of fighting and closure.  A better balanced formula would've been four issues of build-up, and four issues of action, but that wouldn't work for comic audiences used to speedy resolutions.

In Chris Sim's informative essay on the problem between Marvel & DC (the former dealt with its competition by absorbing or emulating the latter, and Marvel wound up being considerable competition because they had staying power simply by being different), both companies have been trying to outdo the other by emulating their rivals, even though those strategies were wildly different from their mandates.  Marvel shows normal people with weird powers, DC is more on Icons and Mythology.  These analogies began to fall apart when they try too hard to be self-referential.  For years, the X-men thrived on the premise that they were feared in a world that despises them purely because they have powers beyond that of pure mortals.  Part of the problem is that the X-men are somewhat of an anomaly in the Marvel Universe, where people get powers if they stay too close to the toaster.  What defines a Marvel hero from a Mutant has never been clearly defined, and why one is celebrated while the other is reviled.  As a metaphor for racism, it falls somewhat flat, but as a metaphor for jealousy, it fits much better.  Think of all the times in history people have resented others for having talents better than them.  Now compare that to nerds being undervalued for their contributions to society.  No wonder the popularity of the X-men have held on as long as they have.

One thing I like about Spinnerette, an affectionate Spider-Man parody is that it has a Canadian team.  The only fault I have with the team is that their leader, Green Gable is a transvestite instead of a woman.  I thought it would make a nice change of pace to have a female leader, and was disappointed to find out it was just another man in a fancy dress.  That's the ONLY thing that bothers me.  Otherwise, their actions and manners feel authentically Canadian.  They have friendly banter and appropriate bickering, and are not solely defined by the heroic actions they do.  They have interests and lives that don't fall within the realm of saving people and the world.  Spending all your time and attention on a specific job 24/7 would be impossible to keep up indefinitely without the occasional vacation.

It helps that it's written by a Canadian who knows the imperceptible subtle differences between Canadians and Americans.

There was a recent article about how Thor was preferred to be somebody you'd want to be with, compared to Superman.  While both are Gods in human disguise, one is equally relatable, the other is cold and distant.  Of course, the result for the latter probably comes from trying to emulate the old Richard Donner superman movies with adult overtones.  Its easier to write grim predictable scenarios than to write humour.  Just look at how long it takes to write memorable comedies that'll last beyond the cultural references that'd be outdated a year down the road, compared to disaster-centric movies portraying the fears of man versus nature.  (Even if nature is inexplicable wearing a hockey mask)

For some reason, the idea is that if normal people were suddenly exposed to powers beyond that of mortal men, they would abuse said power to the detriment of everyone around them.  While that kind of thinking is the basis of revenge power fantasies, it also seems to be part of a problematic aspect of how men should use said power.  This can be attributed to celebrities' substance abuse and being constantly cast in the spotlight causes unfound stress for anyone not used to more attention than usual. But that kind of status only appeals to typical narcissists, that need for self-affirmation from others and tabloid magazines taking advantage of attention-grabbers means that they neglect others who don't take that typical route.  The very act of maturity seems almost anathema in the pursuit of headline-grabbing news coverage.

The most relevant example would be in Jeff Loeb's heavily panned Ultimates 3 review where on the very first page, where heavy news coverage is devoted to Iron Man and Black Widow are having scandalous sex.
It’s not just all over the Internet, but it’s also on CNN and ABC The Wasp says, “NBC at least had the decency to blur out the more graphic parts.”  That’s right, both CNN and ABC are showing an unedited sex tape. They are actually airing hardcore pornography.

Celebrities are held to a high standard once in the media spotlight, and for all their critical acclaim, the general consensus is that we can't find acceptance of them until some glaring fault with their lives is found that we can use as an excuse for not being as good and famous as them.  And with that kind of lifestyle of the Rich and Famous, they generally are prone to the kind of overindulgence that sell papers worldwide.  The old newspaper axiom "If it bleeds, it leads" is a fundamental way to get high numbers on lurid details, even as it cuts off functions of higher cognitive resonance.  Using the old "cripped from the headlines" tactic in an effort of staying relevant to adult readers by using topical subjects to attract attention and appear important.  Even better if it's the kind of controversy that causes it to go viral, thereby spreading word about the comic in question..  But that shock value won't work if the story behind the schlock isn't as compelling, which is where most usage of violence, death and rape falls flat.

In A God Somewhere, by John Arcudi and Peter Snejbjerg, a childhood friend is struck by a disaster, and inexplictely gains Superpowers to the detriment of his brother and best friend.  The obvious Jesus / Superman analogy falls apart once the man with Super powers starts acting in an irrational manner that requires intervention from the military.  Eventually, the Superman goes on a casual worldwide rampage against a world he's grown increasingly apathetic of.

I suspect the reason all of the 9-11 injections in modern-day comics stems from the American consciousness  being unable to come to grips with what happened to them on their home soil. For years, we lived in a seclusive bubble of relative safety until it was popped, and the majority have been exposed to an ugly truth that we have long since ignored - not everybody outside the US likes us. The major problem is that very many of their interpretations of injecting 9-11 themes aren’t very good. Their desire to be topical and relevant prevents them from creating the kind of natural stories that such a situation could create. As iconic as that disaster was, major entertainment corporations are willing to avoid that topic with a 99 ½ mile pole, and work around making sure it’ll never happen again.

It could also stem from an inability to confront mental trauma. When traumatized children express their pain by doing disturbing drawings, they’re discouraged for doing so, because of their works falling outside social norms, when they’re actually trying to understand what happened to them. That could explain how there are so many nuclear explosions in Manga - they’re still trying to wrap their heads around the concept. Problem is, there’s no context for crashing a plane into a building that won’t draw unfortunate implications to 9-11, even though it would work as a kind of catharsis for the American psyche.

So much of what passes for Superheroes these days is mostly a reflection of fear of what would happen if people with special reality/physics-breaking powers became a reality.  Hence the need to constantly suppress them and keep them down.  Compared to that, the webcomic La Muse about two alien sisters (one normal, the other with reality-changing powers) seems much more progressive-thinking in terms of execution.

The level of maturity (or immaturity) between the two could not be more different.  One is upset at humanity's shallowness and lashes out at them from his inability to cope.  The other embraces her power with gleeful abandon and goes about making worldwide changes that makes those in power nervous.  She's more concerned with improving the world for the people, even as corporations and the Government conspire against her plans to do so.  As if they could somehow put the genie back in the toothpaste.  Whenever any new innovative creation or idea is presented to the public, the general reaction from the populace is fear and a desire to go back to how things used to be, until they get used to it, and trying to imagine a world without these tools becomes an exercise in What-if Steampunk scenarios.

It's as if people are so terrified at the prospect of anyone gaining the kind of Superpowers that's prevalent in comics that they see no other option but to go down the path of violence and madness, rather than try to make the world a better place.  In the same way that Lex Luther refused to believe that puny Clark Kent was really Superman because "Power should be exploited constanty", so too do men seem compelled to act out in their own interests.  The constant need for display of machoism and badassery is part of why S-hero comics have increasingly been regulated to an older audience wanting to reclaim the glory days when they were relevant.

One of the commonest arguments is "What would happen if A fought against B?" which usually winds up in long arguments that wind up supporting both sides.  Usually, it comes down to a number of factors, such as whether the two know of each other, the convoluted reason for fighting, and whether either side will survive.  Since the narrative tend to have a mix of powered people and non-powered people, a common scenario is to have a typical schlub take down an overpowered individual using common household tools.  These thinly-veiled Batman analogies usually seem capable of wielding guns akimbo without any thought of aiming or consequences.  In a gun-saturated culture like the United States where the mere prospect of even abandoning their hardware for a fraction of a second sends the nation into a paralysis panic, this mentality of not just relying on the most powerful tools but your own physical prowness is difficult to overcome.  (That still doesn't explain the rationale of keeping firing useless bullets at a target that shows no signs of reaction)


Long-running comics tend to suffer from the high pressure to implement a long-running plan underneath the narrative of its decades-long history so readers won't feel like the time and energy they've spent years accumulating hundreds of (sometimes conflicting) minutiae over thousands of issues has been wasted.  There's also the element of shock when exposed to a new power that's never been revealed before.
But how many times can the public be surprised at the presence of overly powered heroes and villains?
(Do world-threatening villains even bother openly robbing banks anymore?)

I much more prefer the world-building concept of people casually accepting the weird things happening in everyday life.  The idea of man obtaining flight was a pipe dream for years until it became a reality.  Nowadays, you're hardly likely to notice a plane unless it makes enough noise to gather your attention.  Everybody uses computers, even though we barely grasp the concept of how microchips work.  While Syndrome's master plan of making Superpowers available to the public so that "Once everybody is special, they won't be" from The Incredibles was something to worry about, Hunter X Hunter has a complicated system of power (Nen) that can be divided according to the user's personality and preferences which can only be achieved through hard work and training.  On one side, we've got powers that are freely given simply on the basis that they're so wonderful to deserve it.  On the other, we've got people who've had to work long and hard in order to achieve a personal goal.  It seems that the surest way to prevent people with power from running amok is to introduce the concept of power early so they'll be better able to control it.

While Manga is filled with people with various kinds of powers, they hardly ever come out and say they're emulating S-heroes.  The closest thing tend to be Kamen Rider and and Sentai (Power Rangers) teams.
Other than Dragonball, the closest comparison would be Bleach which was compared to S-hero comics in a sadly defunct ComicWorldNews review between David Welsh and John Jakala.  From the accepting responsibility to Chad and Rurika doing a Fastball Special, right down to Aizen's villainous monologue reveal.  While the continuous setup and cutaways are problematic, the way it continues to introduce it's familiar pace in a musical tone across the pages is somewhat soothing in its predictability.  It's basically Manga comfort food.

Lately, I've been obsessed with catching up on One-Punch Man, the overly superpowered unsung hero who wins all his fights in one punch.  (Currently being redrawn by the artist of Eyeshield 21) While such a concept would sound quite limited, it's actually been a sounding board for pointing out the follies of Shonen Manga and S-hero comic traits.  The appeal and humour comes not from seeing the main character, Saitama easily beating his foes without a sweat, but from the periodically ridiculous situations he finds himself in.  It's also been a wild roller coaster ride thanks to the numerous other heroes that periodically show up.  There are dozens of side characters serving as a kind of chorus that keeps the action from being solely focused on the main characters alone.  What would normally be a series of repetitive jokes on a limited premise has morphed into something bigger.

Its that attention paid to other heroes that gives them their moment in the spotlight, even when they're beaten within an inch of their life, they still have their moment to shine.  Sure, Saitama could easily get rid of the threat on his own with no sweat whatsoever, but the Manga wouldn't be as interesting to read otherwise, because sometimes, the cast members actually manage to make a difference.  One Punch Man is heavily influenced by Hunter X Hunter, and it shows.  Not just in terms of giving long-winded explanation for how the world works, but also in the sketchy artwork reminiscent of drafts done by Yoshihiro Togashi before he went back and cleaned it up for the book version.  (Seeing the clear artwork after being constantly exposed to crappy art was something of a shock)

The webcomic went on a hiatus that lasted almost half a year, and the suspense verged not on the outcome of a fight (which was already predetermined and over at that point), but from an answer to a long-winded rant from his foe.  There aren't many action comics that would base their cliffhanger on someone's answer, and when the update finally came, it was absolutely perfect, and well worth the wait.  (I won't spoil it for you)

ONE's other work, 100 Mob Psycho is also about an extremely overpowered individual who shows no interest in improving his already broken powers, but on being a better person.  By all rights, these overly broken unemotional Gary Stus shouldn't be interesting to read about at all.  And yet, their indifference about their abilities flies in the face of contemporary reactions from enthusiastic protagonists.  The number of times our expectations are dashed from continuous reversals that are neither shocking or cheats is the crux of storytelling.  While the ending of their victory may never be in doubt, the surprising and roundabout way they go about achieving these unorthodox goals is what spurs me on to keep reading.

Maybe what we need are more joke-type heroes that actually wind up being useful in the long run.
However, for American comics, this usually falls within the realm of outcasts such as Matter-Eater Lad, Bouncing Boy and Aquaman, heros with powers that are considered so lame that they're worthy of mockery.  By all rights, the stuff of fantasy should be ripe with humourous material , but increasingly, comics seem to take the quick and easy route by pointing out how inherently silly and stupid it all is.  (Nice way to appeal to your faithful fanbase there)  And when attempts are made to produce a humourous comic, it's usually cancelled due to "low sales", when the more likely culprit is readers who don't want to invest in something that isn't part of a larger narrative.

So what's the difference between this and other S-hero comics?

One of the main conflicts in One Punch Man involved Garou, a prodigious martial arts student who'd been indiscriminately defeating heroes and villains left and right out of a vague desire to become a monster.  Much like how the villain in Flex Mentallo was defeated by pointing out that his desire to destroy everything was borne out of a desire to appear adult, so too was Garou defeated not from repeatedly punching him in the face (though that helped) but by pointing out that he really wanted to be a hero, but found it easier to play the villain.

That distinction is important, since it shows the path that people take depends on where their priorities lie.  Whether it's easier to go along with everyone else, or forge your own path despite heavy resistance.  You can either choose to take the quick and easy path of going with the flow, or take the harder road.  There are certain things some people can accomplish that other people can't.  Not everybody has to be a social animal in the same way that not everybody can be expert computer programmer.  The trick is figuring out which is which.

Leave this world a little better than you found it.
-Robert Baden-Powell