Saturday, March 31, 2007

Head Cheese
Check
Your
Skull
at the
Door...



"Do you know what lurks in the deep recesses of the human mind?"

Lance Weiler does!

Hey, I'm on tour! Well, my voice is -- along comic images created by my son and I, too. My work is now 21st Century media, despite my initial reluctance to join the fast lane.

Yesterday morning, via the digital technology of the 21st Century, Lance had me voicing some new Head Trauma material for tonight's very special REMIX presentation of Head Trauma as it plays on the big screen one final time in Philadelphia.

According to Lance, "this is the kick off to a number of national and international remix Head Trauma presentations -- more details soon." Which I'll post here, as soon as it's in my hot little hands.

Cool! This is the flick, you may recall, that my son Dan (who's on the road all month himself, cross-country exploring with three of his compadres -- he called last night from Louisiana after a few days in New Orleans, and all is well) and I drew a faux-Christian comic for.

After months of back-and-forth creative work with Lance in 2005-2006, our work became a character, kinda, in the film, and Lance is now launching a tour with a new, live audio remix -- including yours truly droning the very text I'm including here in red type.

Anyhoot, for tonight's event, here's a few details. Wish I could be there myself -- sounds like Lance is channeling William Castle, Ray Dennis Steckler (aka 'Cash Flagg') and the classic showmen!:

WHAT:
SPECIAL REMIX screening of HEAD TRAUMA - a collision of music, movies, theatrics and gaming.
Music - Live soundtrack performances by Bardo Pond, members of Espers, Fern Knight and DJ Chief Wreck'em
Movies - HEAD TRAUMA and a special screening of a short claymation adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe's classic THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM
Theatrics - sets, props and characters from the movie will emerge from the audience - lights, fog and creepy fun
Gaming - use your mobile phone to interact with the movie and watch in amazement as all the phones in the theater ring at once!

WHEN:
TONIGHT -- Saturday, March 31st @ 7:30pm

WHERE:
Philadelphia's International House (37th and Chestnut) on the U of Penn's campus - on street parking and two parking garages in walking distance

HOW MUCH:
$14 for all seats - seating is on a first come first serve basis

"Dark and twisted images bubbling to the surface, breaking through your sleep as vivid nightmares…. Shaking you to your very core… eyes frozen shut, you struggle to pull yourself from the hellish depths of slumber..."

  • Here's the info on tonight's show, including ticketing, of particular interest of those of you in Philly or neighboring Pennsylvania turf.

  • "Your world begins to move in slow motion and the sound of your life, your beating heart, becomes deafening… but somehow you manage to pull yourself free and make it back to reality becoming… Awake.

    And for a moment you can relax."

  • And here, lest you forget, is the entire Head Trauma website, including info on ordering your own copy of the DVD, shots of Dan's and my comic art for the movie, links, images, and tons more.

  • "Finally… released from your nightmare, your breath slowing its pace… a splash of water calms you but… as you reach for the towel, an unwelcome familiar feeling takes hold of you, your body instantly chilled to the bone…."

  • Finally, for those wishing to spread the word, here's the latest press material (as a pdf file), check it out.

  • "Unable to breath, unable to speak… you realize something DARK , something EVIL has followed you back… it’s been unleashed…and is now in the land of the living…"

    More later today and this weekend, as time permits...

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    Friday, March 30, 2007

    Farewell, Rob Walton --

    Rob just hit the road; I've got a lot of legwork to do on catch-up here, but it was a great three+ days and the Center for Cartoon Studies interaction was vital and worthwhile (by all reports). So, score! Safe drive home, Rob. I'll be posting pix here once the students share that with me, or post them online themselves.

    I'll post later today with something of substance, I hope.

    For today, I've got a recording session via phone with Lance Weiler later this morning for an upcoming live-soundtrack performance event of Lance's feature Head Trauma -- more on that later today, once I know more myself. Bryan Talbot and I are into the next phase (or two) of our interview series, this one on Bryan's book The Naked Artist -- more on that later. I'm speaking at the Westminster West Library in Westminster West, VT at 7 PM tonight -- more info on that in a bit -- which I'll be prepping for all day. Finally,we've got our plumber in the basement, installing the long-overdue pressure tank so our showers are more than a flower-watering-can's worth of water pressure.

    And that's likely more than you care to know...

    More later!

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    Thursday, March 29, 2007

    Little Gray Dot --

    -- that's what Mark Martin keeps posting to note the utter insignificance of the various scandals and outrages manifesting around this clusterfuck Presidency.

    He's right.

    More Americans know and care about (with collective necrophile obsessiveness) the ongoing Anna Nichol Smith clusterfuck than know, care about or even recognize the name "Alberto Gonzales." Fantasy scenarios about Katie and Tom and their baby and Scientologist doctrine and 5-hour-sauna-torture-of-Katie, and Brad and Angelina, or poor Johnny Depp's daughter ("The Agony of Johnny Depp!") are more pressing than the War(s), Abu Ghraib, Guantanemo, than tax cuts and -- well, you get the idea.

    But that doesn't mean you ignore the reality, join the lunacy.
    ____________

    All I'm focused on yesterday and today week is CCS and our visitor Rob Walton.

    Having a great, productive week, or so I think; really solid pair of sessions with the students yesterday, I think -- but all that matters, really, is what the students have to say about it amongst themselves, which I'll likely never know.

    Seemed to go OK, though. Inking demo was fun, too -- Rob inks Bissette pencils, Bissette inks Rob pencils, tips and taps. Staging exercises. Sharing info, knowledge.

    That matters.

    Have a great Thursday -- gotta run!

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    Tuesday, March 27, 2007

    I'm Taking the Fifth, Too

    I was going to post, but fuck it --
  • I'm going to take the Fifth, too.
  • I'm going to torture with impunity and incarcerate any kangaroo-skinner I damn well please without charges for five years or more if I want to. I'm gonna insist anyone in my camp can lie whenever they want, and call that a "reasonable offer" endlessly. I'm gonna stand by Alberto and dis Democrat (heh, heh, "Democrat") Presidential candidates whose wives have cancer while I carry on my steadfast support for the nation's first cyborg Vice Prez, without seeing a hint of irony in that.





    Ah, shit, I can't do any of that.

    Actually, I'm gonna go finish (sigh) our taxes.

    Have a great Tuesday, fellow peons.

    Labels:

    Monday, March 26, 2007

    Monday Musings

    Hey, who's that curly-topped moron?




















    No, the one on the left!

    This
    photo arrived from my old Mirage Studios amigo Ryan Brown this past week, and I thought some of you might get a kick out of it.

    I'm the bozo on the left, scouring the bins for weird collectibles; that's toy and collectibles dealer Bill Bruegman dead center, and a youthful Kevin Eastman on the right.

    Ah, a lot of water under the bridge since then. (BTW, as Marge and I unpack, a lot of old photos from the convention days are beginning to turn up -- I'll be posting them from time to time here, so let's favor Ryan's sharing of this photo as a harbinger of things to come as well as days gone by, shall we?)

    Ryan writes, "Remember when we all boarded the Magic Bus for Mid Ohio Con and stopped at Bill Bruegman's Toy Scouts for a look at all his old toys? Ah... those were the days!"

    They were indeed.

    But that was then, this is now.

    That was brought home in spades with this --
  • -- the other surprise that Ryan emailed me this weekend --
  • -- which I'll post sans further comment for now.
    _________________

    My 'Cash Flagg' reference and evocation of the great 'Cash Flagg' (aka Ray Dennis Steckler)'s magnum opus The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies prompted a couple of email jeers, but hey, here's the proof: yes, the film not only really existed, it's enjoyed a healthy (if odd, appropo enough) life on video and DVD.

    (FYI, I mentioned the film when I referenced
  • Artemis aka Ashley Flagg's blog, here.)

  • I first saw the film under another title in a northern VT drive-in -- Teenage Psycho Meets Bloody Mary was the moniker it was re-released as, with "ax wielding maniacs actually in the audience!" as its ballyhoo. Drive-ins didn't serve this gimmick well: stooges in rubbery 'Cash Flagg' monster masks dashed around the grounds in the dark, waving cardboard axes. We could barely see 'em from our car, though everyone started honking their horns, making for high spirits and dissolving the narcotic effect of the film itself into drive-in delirium.

    This film came up again recently, as a clutch of the CCS students plan their annual Easter zombie film fest. One of the programmers is pushing for The Incredibly Strange Creatures to join the lineup, but I cautioned him -- I mean, it's not a zombie movie (acid-scarred caged maniacs do not zombies make, whatever the title sez). Besides, though I love the film, it's deadly dull, dominated by mind-numbing stage musical numbers that kill any festive movie-viewing gathering (I know from experience!). That said, it remains Steckler's most famous and infamous film, bar none; The Thrill Killers is a far more entertaining followup, to my mind, and my personal fave of the 'Cash Flagg' pantheon, spiced with livelier lunacy and a dollop or two of then-shocking onscreen violence (decapitations) and a "where the hell did this come from?" B-western-like chase finale typical of Steckler's eclectic cineuniverse.

    'Nuff said on that!
    __________

    However, there was some tragic news that arrived this past weekend. Rick Veitch emailed me before the weekend with rumors that our old self-publishing 1990s tour amigo Drew Hayes had died --
  • -- and damn, it turned out to be true.

  • This is a real heartbreaker; Drew was only 37 years old.

  • Rick and I had let contact with Drew drift since the heyday of the Spirit of Independents tours of the mid-'90s, though Drew's Poison Elves soldiered on, beyond the collapse of Capital Distribution and the rise of the Diamond Monopoly, thanks largely to Sirius providing a sorely-needed publishing umbrella.

    I don't know yet what happened, save for what's on the links posted above. My best to Drew's family and friends; it was a privilege to tour with him, and Drew poured himself 100% into his art and comics.

    Damn, comics claims some good souls. Gene Day, Wally Wood, and too many others -- Drew went too young. He'll be missed.
    _________________

    Work on the upcoming April WRIF -- the White River Indy Film festival -- is nearing completion, too, so I'll have some announcements (and an active link) to share by the coming weekend.

    We've corraled an extraordinary lineup of films, complete with visiting filmmakers, panels and special events. I'll be hosting a panel of Vermont filmmakers on April 27, and if you're up for it, my lengthy presentation on Green Mountain Cinema: Vermont Films & Filmmakers helps kick off the event with a special April 22nd fundraiser.

    More info next weekend!
    _______________________

    A Week of Walton!

    Yep, my old pal Rob Walton is a-comin' in, so I'll be barely blogging after tomorrow. Rob is staying over with Marge and I here in our new homestead, and since he's sleeping in our guest room -- where the computer resides -- I'll be offline for the bulk of the week.

    See you here tomorrow, then likely no more 'till Friday. No worries, I'll be back at it next week.

    Rob is coming in part to work the Center for Cartoon Studies students to little nubs. We've got two intensive workshops planned -- a lecture-based overview of editing graphic novels on Wednesday morning, primarily composed of Rob's analysis of his revamp and revision of Ragmop into the graphic novel that saw print just last November, followed by a two-part afternoon drawing workshop we'll be tag-teaming on. See what you're missing, not attending CCS?

    It's been years since Rob and I got to spend any time together, so we're both really looking forward to the week ahead. In the meantime, you can savor Rob's creations yourself, here in virtual space --
  • Here's Rob's website, always worth a visit, folks --
  • and that's not all. You see,
  • Rob also has a radio show, which you can access (with a little exploration) here. Enjoy!


  • OK, that's all for now -- have a great Monday, a great week, and see you here tomorrow. Got to get to my Monday duties...

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    Saturday, March 24, 2007


    They're Back,
    & They're Late


    Damn these Christian dating services!

    Tempting me again, and late!

    And look --
    now the woman is in the clearly dominant position. I'm mere passive, docile drone fodder, hungry for a compatible Christian (but dominant) mate.

    What is Jesus telling me now??

    I'm so confused and hapless, woe is this poor li'l sheep. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, for he layeth me down with saucy brunettes who tuck their glasses (note: not sunglasses) upon brunette pastures of hair, and whom dangleth their pearls o'er my heaving hairy chest, and show a bit of their underthings beneath their clothing, yet hiding their cleavage and thus increasing the temptation to my yearning, aching Christian-dating-doting libid -- uh, soul, even though I'm married."

    First Alberto Gonzales, now this. Soon, I shan't know right from wrong any longer.

    Have a great weekend...

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    Friday, March 23, 2007

    YAAAGH! It's The '70s Again!

    I tell ya, it's deja vu for this old fart: an interminable, hopeless, unnecessary unprovoked foreign war failing on multiple fronts; the President heard and seen everywhere this week, trying to bully/squirm his way out of pending investigations and subpoenas; some fucking Hills Have Eyes movie opening on a Friday... oh, look! Thankfully, there's the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie opening, too.

    Whew.

    It's just the '90s again!

    Wotta relief.

    There's still hope, then, between
  • Marlboro College alumni and Brattleboro Food Coop vet Artemis (aka Ashley Flagg, no relation to 'Cash Flagg' of The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies, I promise you!) proposing a bold new 2008 Presidential campaign strategy, amid her ongoing spinning and weaving,
  • or sharing the giddy joy with Burlington amigo Phil Beruth about the current Democratic investigations working up some steam.
  • And that's all I'll evoke on that topic today, if only to keep things light on such a lovely spring morning as this.

    Alas, though, there is the sad news that
  • Freddie Francis passed away on March 17th.
  • Freddie Francis's work sparked many a movie screen in my youth, betwixt his bewitching cinematography for films like The Innocents (1961) -- including the still-most-convincing shot of a ghost (the spectral nanny sitting amid the reeds) I've ever seen in a movie -- and his robust, imaginative direction of juicy potboilers like Paranoiac (Hammer, 1963), The Skull (Amicus, 1966, a visual tour de force and real corker in its day when seen on the big screen!), Dracula Has Risen From the Grave (Hammer, 1967, and still among my favorite Hammers for its splashy color imagery), and two of my fave Amicus anthology excursions, Dr. Terror's House of Horrors and Torture Garden. The latter remains especially memorable for it's "Man Who Collected Poe" finale, pitching Jack Palance against Peter Cushing as to whom is the more dedicated, obsessive completist collector -- hey, I can really relate!

    Alas, Francis's directorial career careened into the toilet by the '70s with the likes of Trog! (to be released this summer by Warner Bros. on DVD in a "Camp Classics" collection -- sigh), Crazed (wherein Palance scraped belly to bottom, too, clowning for producer Herman Cohen in his crassest exploitation vehicle) and the ill-fated Tyburn Studios films for Freddie's son, the producer Kevin Francis. Still, I found moments to savor in these films, too, including the terminal portmanteau potpourri Tales That Witness Madness, with its amorous tree and cannibal Hawaiian cookout. I can't even call these guilty pleasures, though, as they were clearly nails in a coffin buried deeper than one cares to contemplate for long.

    Thankfully, in my adult film-viewing life, Francis returned to the fore to grace David Lynch's The Elephant Man, Dune and The Straight Story with his most splendid cinematography work. I hoped for his return to directing, though, and found myself among the minority who found Francis's return to form via his realization of Dylan Thomas's long-unproduced script for The Doctor and the Devils a real pleasure; I caught it twice during its short theatrical run, and still love the film.

    R.I.P., Freddie Francis. You brightened and inspired this youthful imagination, in its formative years, and you showed me what a ghost might really look like.

    Have a great Friday, one and all...

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    Thursday, March 22, 2007

    Another Sweet Spring Morn...

    The rest of the area seems to have been hit with freezing rain and sleet, but we're blessedly dry and sunny this AM. Cool.

    Best of all, my drawing space is at last set up and functional in our new home!

    Turns out I'm still using my original drawing board -- I wasn't sure which one I ended up with, between the move and Danny claiming one board for himself. I've ended up with the very board my parents bought for me waaaaaaaaaay back in 1971; still has the magic marker spider glyph I 'signed' it with on the back. I had the surface refinished around 1980 (faux-wood-texture formica) since the original board surface was so scarred up, but this is the very board I drew 1941, "Kultz," "A Frog is a Frog," "The Blood Bequest," two issues of the never-published Marvel Science comics series, Swamp Thing, The Fury, N-Man, Tyrant, etc. pages on. It's been mighty good to me, this ol' board.

    Oddly enough, I never once drew on this board between my decision to retire from the US comics industry in 1999 and today. No doubt, this was due in large part to my complete indifference to drawing much at all during that stretch of time -- I really didn't care. In all the time Marge and I lived in Marlboro, I never set this puppy up to draw. Any art I did during that period was drawn in my sketchbook(s) or on my laptop board or our dining room table. But this is a different time, a different place, and I'm in a much more creative space, physically and emotionally -- between the shot in the arm my son Dan, my daughter Maia, everyone at CCS and this new phase of life have all cumulatively given me, it's a joy to at last prepare the new studio in our new digs. It's looking nice, it's pretty comfy, and I've got a nice view of the woods behind our house from where I'm sitting when I'm at the board.

    I finally sorted out the drawing lamp situation very early this AM, disposing of the one truly unfixable light and prepping two to donate to CCS. After years of holding on to a number of drawing lamps, I'm resorting to the venerable old lamp I used in my Saga of the Swamp Thing days -- it still works fine, though it's a bit crusty, but then again, so am I. Heck, it's even got the ol' alligator-foot gris gris Nancy Collins gave me ages ago still hanging from it. Good gris-gris, and it'll be fun to be drawing on the old board again.

    ____________

    This just in from the Trees & Hills cartooning group omni-inkslinger Colin Tedford.

    The group's site is
  • here;
  • Colin's site is
  • here.

  • The
    Trees & Hills SPRING TOUR continues this coming weekend (March 24-25) at the Boston Zine Fair
  • (their website is here).
  • Dan Barlow, Keith Moriarty & Colin Tedford will be crewing the Trees & Hills table, while E.J. Barnes, Marek Bennett, and Anne Thalheimer will have their own table space. New comics: Marek's Mimi's Doughnuts #10, Colin's Before Sleep #4, and Anne's Booty #20.

    The deadline has been extended for the Keene Free Comics TV Turnoff Week Special - all submissions must be in to me by the end of this month. Keep in mind (though I don't think I've mentioned before) that previously-drawn material that fits the theme is acceptable.

    The Commons's new comic page debuts in April, featuring strips by Marek Bennett, Jade Harmon, Zach Stephens & Colin Tedford.

    Sunday, April 1 Colin & Dan will be tabling at the Comic Book Show in Nashua, NH.

    The following weekend on Saturday, April 7, we will have a drawing party at the Center For Cartoon Studies from 1-5 pm. Come on up for drawing, jamming, socializing, snacking, and more! If you plan to go, please RSVP Robyn Chapman (chapman@cartoonstudies.org).

    Best, Colin Tedford
    __________

    Thanks, Colin!

    Don't know if I'll be at the CCS powwow, but I hope to be.

    More later today...

    Have a Great Thursday!

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    Wednesday, March 21, 2007

    Spring Sprung...

    ... and it's been a sweet day. So far.

    The first signs of spring were heard two weeks ago (woodpeckers, heard early AM hammering out their turf here in Windsor) and seen two weekends ago (north of Bernardston, MA on I-91, en route to lunch with Mark and Jeannie Martin and Mike Dobbs and his wife Mary Cassidy; saw eight+ robins along the highway, though I've not seen any this far north as yet), but March is as always a month of highs and lows on the mercury. Still, today started bitter cold and warmed up fast once the sun was out. I've savored the day!

    I've at last got my drawing board and space set up, with the week off from CCS allowing me to tend to long overdue set-up and unpacking at our new home. The rest of the day goes to that other sign of spring -- sigh -- income taxes.

    Labels:

    Tuesday, March 20, 2007

    He Asks for Patience...

    Happy Fourth Anniversary of the Iraq War, one and all. Four years ago this morning, I was arguing with trigger-happy fans on the now-defunct Kingdom/Swamp boards, furious over the war's launch. "You've got your fucking war," I posted, prompting mucho heat from those who wanted war, but didn't want to fess up to war mongering.

    Everything those of us who opposed this war said would happen before it began has not only come to pass, but every reason we gave for not launching war has proven to be valid. The only lies that have been uncovered were the always-dubious reasons to go to war -- lies, lies, and more lies.

    And on this anniversary,
  • sans irony, President Bush

  • asked for patience this week.

  • Four years since he ignored all calls for patience with the inspection process,

  • since he recklessly plunged our country and our allies and Iraq (and the world) into this maelstrom of violence,

  • since he ignored all calls, pleas, protests for patience, diplomacy, due process,

  • since ignoring reality to pursue his own insane agenda, heedless of the consequences (save the fantasy he and his compadres fabricated), he asks for patience.


  • In preparation for this momentous call for patience, White House Press Secretary Tony Snow patiently
  • told CCN's Ed Henry to "zip it,"

  • a demonstration of Snow's impeccable, Fox-News-cultivated tact you can see here for yourself.

  • Of course, the momentous occasion of the anniversary has resulted in this event being downplayed (CNN's own immediate followup, to Ed Henry: "Ed, if it weren’t such a solemn day we could do about five minutes on that whole zip it exchange, but because of the the anniversary, we will let it go at that..."), though it is the most succinct summary imaginable for the rampant arrogance, hubris and power abuse that led us down this bloody path.

    Fuck these clowns; their arrogance is at last being challenged by the inevitable toll of reality -- not their manufactured reality, but reality -- and time.

    May it all crash down around their ears without taking the rest of us out.

    Happy fucking anniversary, U.S. of A.
    ___________

    U R Invited!

    I'd be remiss not to mention, after the attention I gave to Frank Miller's invite to yours truly to attend the NYC premiere of 300, the fact that Jeanine Atkins and Peter Laird invited Marge and I to this week's Massachusetts premiere/preview of the new CGI Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles feature. Alas, it's timing (late afternoon) didn't jive with Marge's or my work schedule -- especially given the additional hour the drive entails for us now, living further north up I-91 -- but the invitation is greatly appreciated!

    As with 300, reckon we'll (or I'll) see it with the rest of the country.

    Former Mirage Studio compadre, Cowboys of Moo Mesa and Bog creator, and all around sweet guy Ryan Brown also sent the invite, here, to a parallel TMNT event in Ohio; again, distance prevents our taking advantage of this, but such is life.

    [It was great to hear from Ryan, in part because of Bog -- I'm making some plans that (if Ryan approves) will bring some new life to Bog after a number of years laying fallow, as bog-beasts do at times. More on that later, after Ryan and I can talk...]

    It's been fun, too, seeing the anticipation among some of the Center for Cartoon Studies students for this new TMNT movie. I've no idea how it might be impacting on Peter, Kevin or the remaining Mirage crew, but a whole generation that grew up on the Turtles will soon get their shot at seeing this new take on the now-venerable heroes of their childhoods that played such a key role in their own lives. I hope to attend one of the opening night shows, if only to see what the audience is like, and how they react.

    It's fascinating to me, personally, how little of any substance has been written about the Turtles phenomenon and Mirage Studios in particular. It's the great untold story of comics in particular and the pop culture in general, and it's one well worth someone telling one day, in all its ups, downs and compelling human dimensions.
    _________________

    "Frank Miller invites you to attend a screening of 300 IMAX on March 8, 2007 at 7:30 pm at Lincoln Square IMAX 1998 Broadway, NYC. Please see attached invitation..." (visible here, now that the event itself is safely past)

    By now, most of you will have seen 300, so I feel it's appropriate to post my own views on the film later this week. I caught 300 opening weekend locally with some of my CCS student/compadres; though it was a 4:45 matinee, the theater was packed.

    It's been somewhat amusing to see, too, the ripples, including the
  • expected backlash against the film's caricature of history, Persia and its implications given current strained US/Iranian relations (or non-relations) and the Bush-fomented nuclear standoff,

  • and this petition against (chuckle) Warner Bros. prompted by ire against the film and all its stands for in the minds of those infuriated by its existence.

  • In the opening volley of the Iranian outrage directed against 300 visible to us stateside,
  • Siamack Baniameri wrote, "300 depicts King Xerxes as a fat homosexual and Persians as deformed and stupid monsters similar to what the Orcs looked like in The Lord of the Rings. Spartans on the other hand are revealed as rocket scientists trapped in bodies of Greek gods with comic book bravery and constant worry of losing their beloved and hard-earned "freedom and democracy" to the damn Middle Easterners."

    Well, almost.

    Xerxes
    is in fact presented as power-body-sculpted as the Spartans, except he's got all kinds of "shit in this face" (Tarantino Pulp Fiction speak for facial adornment) and moves and speaks with the narcissistic bisexual/homoeroticism Mel Gibson assigned to the gliding devil of his Passion (of the Christ) (which, by the way, was staged with techniques stolen from Mario Bava's '60s horror films). This is especially funny in the context of the Greek/Spartan homosexuality that history proper designates as part and parcel of their culture (and warrior classes); as Bob already pointed out in his comments to this blog, the macho elements of 300 are as homoerotic as anything mainstream American cinema has yielded since -- uh, Alexander, which was just over a year or so ago.

    And the Spartans hardly come across as "rocket scientists", though those bods are clearly Greek classical in their perfect pec-and-ab (CGI-enhanced) refinements: the Spartans, in fact, come across as reckless warriors. In his graphic novel, Frank Miller made a point of adhering to the Spartan mode of warfare he made key to his narrative (the reason for the rejection of the hunchback as fit warrior material); for the film, director Zach Snyder adheres to Frank's stated reason for said hunchback's rejection -- then shows his Spartans time and time again dispensing with any reasonable strategic advantage to indulge more vain-glorious onscreen posing and mayhem, however vulnerable it might leave them. It's stupid, really, resulting at one point in a supposedly tragic death (a decapitation that looks as patently phoney as any seen in the post-CGI revolution; Snyder should have called in Tom Savini or the KNB crew) that is risible, neutering the consequences of any conviction. So, if I may be so un-PC blunt, from fag-boy Xerxes to dumbo Spartans, it's all a CGI cartoon, as so many action films are today.

    Let's face it, we're in a pepla revival -- pepla being the Italian Hercules-inspired wave of muscle-man movies that flooded international movie screens and TV screens in the late '50s and the '60s [PS: see Tim Lucas's comment on this post, below -- and note his correcting my initial post misspelling of pepla, which I indeed, off the top of my head, misspelled pebla first time around; oops!]. And 300, the movie, is a fucking great peplum, and as ridiculous as any of 'em. Instead of Carlo Rambaldi rubber monsters, we get CGI orcs (and yes, they do come across as orcs in the film, and have no corresponding source in Frank Miller's graphic novel); instead of paper mache rocks and fog and Spanish beaches, we get CGI-created fake cliffs and oceans.

    But "history proper" has little, if anything, to do with the kind of full-blown pepla -- a permutation of the fantastique more than historical epics per se -- imagery and kinetics 300 the movie revels in, any more than it informed Ridley Scott's Gladiator (which was and remains a much better film, but more on that later). For that matter, the ignorance most critics betrayed last week about 300's source material says a great deal: compared to director Zach Snyder's slow-mo celebration of machismo, violence and war, Frank Miller's 300 is a model of cunning storytelling economy and restraint -- and by far the more focused, successful creation.

  • Here's the most insightful and pragmatic analysis of the international 300 situation I've read to date,
  • from the online Payvand's Iran News (posted March 9th, "The Persian Empire Strikes Back"), in which Iranian author Darius Kadivar places the pre-release anger in its proper contexts.

    This is essential reading; Kadivar ultimately poses the core questions, "What is more shocking: To be depicted as Villains in a film that is supposed to be anything but a history lesson about an event that took place 25 centuries ago? Or, To be associated to an entity that exists no more that is the Persian Empire itself ever since its removal by a widely popular Islamic Revolution that put an end for ever to what its supporters considered as an evil and corrupt institution?"

    He continues, "What the controversy about this film reveals as in the case of Oliver Stone’s movie Alexander is that the Persian Empire, with or without its King or legitimate heir, still exists in the minds of all Iranians and probably transcends even political convictions. It probably has more to do with our own Ego ( justified or not ) or is it a Freudian sense of self preservation and of our role as a nation in the History of Mankind?"

    More to the point, Kadivar asks, "Do we as viewers have [to] adopt a partisan attitude towards a film we have not even seen?"

    This places the initial controversy, in Islamic terms, within the realm of the overreaction to the pro-Islamic Mohammed: Messenger of God (which, despite it's being pro-Islamic and a film by a devout Islamist, prompted violence in mere anticipation of its premiere), and in Christian terms in the arena of the pre-release outrage fomented by Monty Python's The Life of Brian, Jean-Luc Godard's Mary, and Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ.

    And that, my friends, is meat for another post, later in the week.

    Now, given the fact the film has been widely seen, the outrage has only escalated, as the boxoffice for the film soars. So it goes with such controversies, by and large, though 300 had its own exceptional pre-release buzz (triggered in part by those ravishing trailers, the most effective in recent memory).

    I gotta run --

    Have a great Tuesday!


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    Monday, March 19, 2007

    So, This Arrived in the Ol' Email...

    ...and I held off saying anything for a few days, if only to
  • milk the prankster till his little tittie bled.


  • (BTW, nice to be back, and thanks for all the kind birthday wishes.)

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    Wednesday, March 14, 2007

    It's My Birthday!

    Yep, 'tis.

    Wish me luck!

    ____________

    Amid a busy period of completing work on programming the upcoming April WRIF (White River Indie Film festivities, which now span almost the entire final week in April), my duties have included writing the synopses for the films we've selected. These include almost all the films I've written about at length on this blog over the past month or two; boiling that blather down, I arrive at:

    51 BIRCH STREET: "When it comes to your parents, maybe ignorance is bliss," filmmaker Doug Block says at one point during the multi-award winning 51 Birch Street. This is, literally, the real-life The Bridges of Madison County: Doug and his two sisters help their father clear out their suburban family home after his remarrying only three months after their mother's death (and over 50 years of marriage). In the process, they find their mother's extensive diaries, and therein a doorway to her most personal secrets and the reality of their married life.

    ABSOLUTE WILSON: Filmmaker Katherine Otto-Bernstein’s exploration of renowned theater & dance director Robert Wilson's life embraces it all, from his ongoing non-verbal movement & dance therapy work (with brain-damaged children and paralyzed patients) to the theatrical work he is now renowned for. The variety of Wilson’s theatrical creations -- the stark, iconographic imagery and movement; the inventive play with sound & music; the use of color, costume and body language -- are showcased throughout, accompanied by onscreen interviews with Susan Sontag, Philip Glass, Trudy Kramer, John Rockwell, David Byrne, Jim Neu, Earl Mack, and many others.

    BAMAKO: Abderrahmano Sissanko's new feature functions on many levels: African agitprop, pragmatic portrait of a world tribunal in a pauper's kingdom, meditation on 21st Century colonization, a sheathed castigation of the World Bank, G8, IMF and the malign influence of Western capitalism -- once this cinematic machete bares its blade, it cuts deep. “It is a work of cool intelligence and profound anger, a long, dense, argument that is also a haunting visual poem.” — A. O. Scott, The New York Times

    BRICK: Retrofitting the milieu of Raymond Chandler and Humphrey Bogart crime thrillers to a contemporary California high school, this unique teen noir evokes dark gems like Over the Edge, The River's Edge, Heathers, Kids, and Bully, but trumps them via its complete submersion, sans irony, into its universe. The Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew were never like this: as its oner hero (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) ferrets out his ex-girlfriend’s killer, the 21st Century post-Columbine Bush-era underbelly of youth culture is explored with mesmerizing, gripping immediacy.

    DECAY OF FICTION (installation): A compelling meditation on malingering cinematic spirits in Los Angeles's now-abandoned & crumbling Hotel Ambassador. An uncannily shot and edited exploration of the physical (and metaphysical) environment... and all the while, 'ghosts' of performers, diners, thugs, children, hotel staff and various denizens of 1940s movies and the hotel's past rerun their long-past interactions. A brilliant conceit, mesmerizing and completely original.


    THE DEVIL AND DANIEL JOHNSTON: Welcome to the life and times of ‘fringe’ cult musician and artist Daniel Johnston! Having recorded himself from an early age (audio diaries, songs, super 8, video), this biographical documentary offers an introspective, incredibly detailed record of his thoughts -- which become even more compelling as it becomes clear that Johnston is wrestling with serious mental problems. A one-of-a-kind portrait of a fascinating and influential 21st Century creator.

    THE FOREST FOR THE TREES: A stirring portrait of Earth First activist Judi Beri and the Leftist legal team which represented her (led by the filmmaker’s father, Dennis Cunningham, who also defended the Black Panthers in the ‘60s and ‘70s) in a lawsuit against the FBI launched after Beri survived a mysterious car bomb attack.

    GRBAVICA: When uneasy pick-up lines like, “I’m sure I know you” leads to the commonalities of “Maybe you go to postmortem identifications?”, we aren’t in Kansas anymore, Toto. Welcome to Grbavica, a modern metropolitan European city haunted by fresh memories of the Bosnian conflict, experienced via the day-to-day life of traumatized Esma Halilovic and her teenage daughter Sara. A potent, moving drama of Bosnian life in the 21st Century.

    THE HAND OF GOD: A fiercely intelligent, introspective, concise and surprisingly comprehensive dissection of the notorious Massachusetts Catholic Church scandal involving priests who were habitual child molestors. Director Joe Cultrera chronicles the case history of his older brother Paul, and the impact Paul's eventual disclosure of abuse (8 years before The Boston Globe ripped the lid off the wider scope of scandal) had upon Paul's entire family and community.

    IRAQ IN FRAGMENTS: James Longley's intimate, three-part portrait of the current situation in Iraq as experienced by Sunni, Shiite and Kurd individuals, each in their own corner of their war-torn country, sans polemics other than those manifest on the streets, in garages, in the city centers and mosques. Longley's meditative, poetic exploration of Iraq through the faces, plight and eyes of its people was nominated for an Academy Award as Best Documentary Feature.

    JESUS CAMP: Fascinating, compulsive viewing, whatever one's orientation to the subject. Directors Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady capture the lives of those involved with an evangelical camp (ironically based in Devil's Lake, North Dakota), from the organizers to the parents and attending children, focusing on three of the attendees, Levi, Tory and Rachael. A truly exceptional and timely documentary.

    MANHATTAN, KANSAS: NYC-based filmmaker Tara Wray returns to her childhood home in Kansas to reconnect with her mother, seeking some resolution for her difficult childhood and teenage years, and their co-dependent relationship. Unexpectedly, this process proves to have a cumulative, positive impact on both Tara and her mother; a most unusual, provocative autobiographical documentary.

    ...and so on and so forth. We'll be showing all this, and much more, end of April.

    Alas, some of our choices have been, despite the provision to the group of screeners, yanked by their respective distributors, including the excellent Ralph Nader documentary An Unreasonable Man. How unreasonable of them. As one committee member noted, "how Nader-like!" Too bad, but it's still shaping up to be a great festival.

    The April event is still coming together, as is the website announcement, but anyone living in the area should keep an eye on
  • WRIF's website for upcoming news, scheduling and announcements --
  • -- hope to see some of you there!
    _________________

    "I acknowledge that mistakes were made here... I accept that responsibility."

    We've heard variations on that from the President and members of his Administration since the (ongoing) Hurricane Katrina debacle, but "I accept that responsibility" apparently never, ever means really assuming any responsibility in this Administration, unless you're part of the current Walter Reed Hospital scandal, which has military leaders falling on their swords right and left (the better to ensure no blame arrives at the Commander-in-Chief).

    The latest declaration of "I accept that responsibility" followed the revelations from recently-released documents revealing a two-year campaign by the Justice Department and White House to purge federal prosecutors has prompted a fresh call for Gonzales's head.
  • but Attorney General Alberto Gonzales rejected the yowls for his resignation --
  • -- no surprise there.

    The mistakes made he might be referring to most likely be the release of said documents, since "don't get caught" seems to be the only meaningful context for the ongoing Bush Administration troubles. Gonzales added, "I believe very strongly in our obligation to ensure that when I provide information to the Congress that it's accurate and that it's complete," which is disingenuous at best from the man who has so firmly stonewalled Congress every step of the way since his confirmation hearings -- which is, after all, when Congress should have shut this former Bush attorney out. But that would have taken a backbone, and a majority willing to do more than rubber-stamp that process.

    In the meantime, in the face of the South American-touring President's call for more troops, we find out, via
  • homophobic statements from the Pentagon's top general, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs General Peter Pace,
  • that the military's policy against any gays serving their country has so far resulted in the discharge of "more than 10,000 troops, including more than 50 specialists in Arabic," since President Clinton instituted the "don't ask, don't tell" policy in 1994.

    Hmmmmm, the Pentagon could sure use just about 10,000 troops, especially those 50 specialists in Arabic, just about now -- if they could pull their homophobic heads out of their homophobic asses long enough to think straight (with something other than their little heads).

    The most astounding statement amid the flurry that followed General Pace's mini-screed was no doubt White House spokesman Tony Snow's claim that President Bush "has always said that the most important thing is that we ought not to prejudge one another."

    Huh. When was that? From the man who prejudges everything, to all of us. A love button.

    But let's keep this all in perspective. I mean, it ain't so bad -- I heard last night on German radio news that thanks to Zimbabwe's governing ZANU-PF party's two-year extension (back in December) of President Robert Mugabe's reign and the subsequent atrocities, the life expectancy of the average Zimbabwe woman is now 34 years of age.

    By comparison, we've all got it sweet.
    ________________

    And in that context, we're all lucky folks. I certainly am.

    I'm 52 as of today -- I've outlived some dear friends, I've got a great job, CCS has reawakened my creative life, I'm happily married, live in a new home, I have friends and family and two incredible now-adult kids I love, and to my mind any day over the half-century mark of life is a day worth celebrating.

    And hey, I've got you, don't I?

    I'm outta here!
    Gotta teach!
    Gotta draw!
    Gotta move!


    [Reminder: I won't be posting regularly again until Monday, most likely. See you here as time permits...]

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    Tuesday, March 13, 2007

    Breakfast with Daniel

    Gotta run -- breakfast with #1 son.

    Will post later this AM -- though it's gonna be a sparse blogging week, folks, just so's you know. I'll be back online daily as of Monday next.

    Still, check this out --
  • "It passed in Jericho, the hometown of House Speaker Gaye Symington. It passed in Hartland, the hometown of Congressman Peter Welch. It passed in Middlebury, the hometown of Gov. James Douglas. In all, 38 communities passed resolutions at their town meetings calling for the impeachment of President Bush and Vice President Cheney..."


  • Next, succession from the Union. News at 11...

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    Monday, March 12, 2007

    Cine-Ketchup:
    Steve Kurtz and Strange Culture

    The White House press corps made an event of President Bush's reading of Camus's The Stranger; too bad the President didn't sample Franz Kafka instead. His administration have fully implemented that universe in spades.

    Which leads me to --

    * Strange Culture (2007) -- A challenging, engaging and rigorously intelligent film wedding of reality and fictionalized reality, imaginatively synthesized as in the Harvey Pekar biopic American Splendor (2003). Strange Culture is a far more disturbing and chilling political animal, a carefully orchestrated integration of documentary material and dramatized docudrama that touches upon subversive activist art, genetically-modified foods, the collusion of government and corporate cultures, and the post-9/11 police state’s curtailment of civil rights, freedom of speech and personal liberties.

    On May 11, 2004, the life of Buffalo, NY-based artist and professor Steve Kurtz was irrevocably derailed by the unexpected death in bed (of heart failure) of his wife Hope. Calling 911 for an ambulence, Kurtz quickly found himself under arrest as a suspected bioterrorist when medics became alarmed at the scientific equipment in Kurtz’s home essential to the couple’s upcoming Mass MoCa art exhibition (including petri dishes, bacteria cultures, etc.). Within hours, Hope’s body was impounded and their home quarentined by FBI agents in Hazmat suits, confiscating anything (including computers, files, books, and equipment) considered suspicious. He has been plunged into a Kafkaesque nightmare existence ever since, compliments of the FBI and US Justice Department. Kurtz and his collaborators in the Critical Art Ensemble target the ongoing corporate proliferation of genetically-modified crops and food, in which the American populace are reduced to consumer/experimental subjects, with no concern for public safety or the potential consequences; CAE’s exhibitions invite and involve the viewer/participant in active educational as well as aesthetic processes, and inherently cultivates ongoing relations between artists and scientists. Presently, both Kurtz and the couple’s frequent scientific collaborator Dr. Robert Ferrell (former Chair of the University of Pittsburgh Graduate School of Public Health’s Genetics Department) are awaiting trial on charges of mail fraud -- per the Bush Administration’s modus operandi, the initial charges of bioterrorism were dropped, though prosecution is preceding, sans trial date, on lesser fraud charges (in which, incredibly, no entity was defrauded!).

    This cinematic tapestry was most likely initiated by filmmaker Lynn Hershman-Leeson (Conceiving Ada, Teknolust) to cover narrative essentials Kurtz isn’t legally permitted to discuss publicly, given the U.S. Government’s pending trial. But the technique -- in which actor Thomas Jay Ryan (of Henry Fool, Michel Moyse’s Cowards, etc.) plays Kurtz, Tilda Swinton plays his now-deceased wife Hope, Peter Coyote stands in for Ferrell, etc., and the actors subsequently appear as themselves, discussing the case -- is of a piece with Kurtz’s art (note this technique was initiated in the ‘60s by, I think, Jean-Luc Godard, and by Ingmar Bergman in En Passion/The Passion of Anna, 1969). As Kurtz himself notes at one point, the extraordinary circumstances that he was immediately plunged into in the wake of Hope’s death have manifested as various hyper-realities that are “performative” in nature. Hershman-Leeson’s film is just one of those hyper-realities, and perhaps among the most useful, therapeutic and potentially redemptive of them -- especially if Strange Culture succeeds in bringing wider attention to this gross abuse of post 9/11 government power and prosecution, which rocks to the core our presumption of living in a democracy. Still, there is nothing ‘performative’ about Kurtz’s real-life situation -- or his ongoing grief for Hope’s death, which gently frames this extraordinary, adventurous documentary. Essential viewing!

  • For more info, visit the film's official site.
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    Sunday, March 11, 2007

    Cine-Ketchup: Hannibal Dining

    But first:

  • "Bush seeks 8,200 more troops for wars;"
  • or, How Do You Say No to a Man Who Never Learned The Meaning of the Word?Center for Cartoon Studies :: View topic - CCS Photos

    Poppa and Momma Bush clearly never taught our Prez when he was a tot the fundamentals of right, wrong, 'yes' or 'no.' George don't wanna hear 'no,' George don't hear 'no,' George will go to South America to ignore 'no' and act like 'no' is 'yes.'

    George wants what George wants, come what may.

    Congress better grow some nanny-nuts and learn to say and mean 'no' to George, and make it stick, and fast.

    With this news, we're further into Vietnam in the 21st Century than ever before.

    OK, as promised in the title today -- a more personable serial killer and war criminal, wholly imagined and unreal:

    * Hannibal Rising (2007) - Author Thomas Harris and executive producer Dino DeLaurentiis bring their ongoing Hannibal Lecter franchise to its most recent fruition, a prequel detailing Hannibal’s back story. As I’ve detailed elsewhere (in my Video Watchdog review of Ridley Scott’s Hannibal, a film I quite love), Harris’s career has been perversely defined by Hannibal, an almost Frankensteinian dynamic between creator and creation that emerged from the character’s compelling supporting role in Harris’s novel Red Dragon to the pop boogeyman stature Lecter was elevated to with Silence of the Lambs, the bestseller and Academy-Award winning boxoffice blockbuster. Hannibal was and remains a brilliant creation, an ideal fusion of Dr. Fredric Wertham and the good doctor’s real-life patient Albert Fish: a progressive, astute psychologist & psychiatrist who also happens to be a cannibalistic serial killer. Thus, via his best two novels (Red Dragon, Silence of the Lambs) and their original film adaptations (Michael Mann’s Manhunter and Jonathan Demme’s Silence of the Lambs), Harris evolved the atavistic, almost primal boogeyman archetypes of the ‘70s and ‘80s (the Ed Gein-inspired Leatherface, the non-cannibal Michael Myers of Halloween and Jason of the Friday the 13th sequels) to a whole new and much more terrifying threshold. Hannibal, forever fixed in the popular imagination via Anthony Hopkins’s Oscar-winning incarnation of the role, transcended the procession of Leatherfaces, Michaels, Jasons, Freddies and Pinheads to pluck a collective nerve that was both more adult and more primal: the patriarch as devourer, the vengeful father as uber-ogre, the cultivated carnivore capable of not only peering into one’s deepest fears but articulating and manipulating them, to his own needs, driven by a frightening but admirable personal aesthetic and ethical code (initially defined in his complex relationship with FBI agent Clarice Starling in Silence and its sequel, Hannibal).

    This is profound stuff, really, but it’s no surprise it has eluded Harris’s grasp a bit: as a novel and a film, Hannibal alienated many readers and viewers (though, again I must note, not I), and Dino’s decision to remake Red Dragon (making it the first movie ‘prequel’ of the series) only diminished the franchise (Brett Ratner was the wrong director for the project; it's a dim shadow of Mann's Manhunter, at best). Hannibal has since held Harris’s creative life in thrall, a blessing and a curse, and Hannibal Rising extends this (with Harris’s co-producer and screenplay credit asserting his control over cinematic franchise as well as the novels) retroactively, if you will, by chronicling the future serial killer’s traumatic childhood and teenage years.

    What made the man, it turns out, is very much a series of generic lock-step conceits: in the mode of The Shadow, Frank Miller’s then-innovative retooling of Marvel’s Daredevil, and a multitude of pop icons (including Batman) since, Harris provides Hannibal with a revisionist grounding in Asian cultural disciplines of spirit and samurai skills via a widowed aunt (the lovely Li Gong of