Will Pfeifer's Blog, page 21

For no reason, here are three strange things about that first Elektra cover

Frank Miller just made big news by announcing he'll be doing a third Dark Knight series, this one imaginatively titled "DK3." For some reason, that led to me paging through the fascinatingly obessessive 1980s edition of the American Comic Book Chronicles, which focuses (again, obsessively) on the decade that made me a comic book fan. Naturally, Miller himself gets plenty of column space, what with the 1980s seeing the release of not just the original Dark Knight series, but also his "Batman: Year One" issues, Elektra Assassin (still wildly underrated in my opinion) and his return to the comic that made him a star, the "Daredevil: Born Again" arc.

But before all that, of course, Miller made his bones drawing -- and soon writing -- Marvel's Daredevil. His first issue as a writer artist was #168, which was released near the end of 1980, and it turned out to be a no-kidding genuinely landmark issue, both for launching Miller as a writer/artist and for introducing one of the most influential characters in modern comics, Daredevil's ninja girlfriend Elektra.

I've been collecting long enough to have bought that issue off the newsstand (and not in a comic book store), and somewhere along the line (at a Mid Ohio Con, I think?) I actually got it signed by Miller himself. But in all that time, in the three-and-a-half decades since it appeared, the cover of that comic book has always struck me as being a little strange, for three reasons. And here they are...



1. First of all, for being such a groundbreaking issue, isn't it amazing that arguably the most important word on the cover -- the name of the character they're introducing -- is somehow misspelled? And it's not small type, either. Nice going, bullpen!

2. Speaking of that name, when I was a 13-year-old kid spying this cover for the first time, I had no idea who the hell Electra was, Greek myth-wise. I just new her name sounded like a female variation on "Electro," the old Spider-Man villain, and saw all those lightning bolts surrounding her, so I figured she had some sort of electrical powers. Trust me, we didn't know from ninjas way back then

3. And this is a minor thing, but though I realize that's just some generic Marvel criminal Daredevil is apparently beating with his billy club (Nice!), with those shadows over his eyes and that green coat (coveralls? scarf? tights?), it sure looks like this issue's double-guest villain is Doc Ock. Or is it just me?

Movies I Watched in March

I'm on vacation this week, so I'm going to make these recaps quick. Here we go...

I've seen this one multiple times, but I watched it again for an upcoming podcast, and boy am I glad I did. This vintage thriller about a group of color-coded crooks (years before "Reservoir Dogs") is one of the most entertaining movies of the 1970s, a perfect combination of comedy, suspense and urban grit. Bonus points for making the late, great Walter Matthau the decidedly laid-back, cynical hero.

Allie is into the Greek myths like you can't believe, so this Harry Potter-esque kid flick about a teen who discovers he's the son of Poseidon is enjoying heavy rotation in the DVD player. It's not great, but it's not terrible either, with an imaginative interlude in a casino that tricks its visitors into staying there forever. Steve Coogan shows up as a rock star sort of Hades, but he never really gets to cut loose like he should and take advantage of that admittedly imaginative casting.

Another one watched for the podcast. I honestly don't know if I've seen it all the way through since catching it in the theater way back in the 1980s. It's genuinely great, even better than I remembered. For one thing, it's refreshingly tight and simple, with the story starting right as the action begins and ending a split second after it stops. Plus, it's really a three-person movie when you get right down to it, with Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis making the perfect horror movie couple, supported by the great John Getz as Davis' wonderfully sleazy ex. Oh, and as a bonus, there's a baby maggot delivered by none other than director David Cronenberg.

Yet another one watched for the podcast (if we ever get this thing off the ground, it's going to be damned impressive). Robert Redford stars as a liberal (what else?) Senate candidate in this smart, believable campaign drama. Peter Boyle is top-notch as his sly campaign manager, and the movie succeeds at being compelling without resorting to any cheap plot contrivances involving personal scandals or last-minute twists. It portrays a political system from a very different time, but in many ways, that makes it even more fascinating. 

The other "Candidate" movie viewed for the podcast, it's one of my all time favorites, a smart, funny, scary conspiracy thriller that still, somehow, seems ahead of its time. I was lucky enough to see this one in a theater during its revival run back in the 1980s, and I'm happy to say it holds up beautifully. Director John Frankenheimer's almost-too-clever direction fits the paranoid plot perfectly, and actors Frank Sinatra, Laurence Harvey and Janet Leigh have never been better -- or stranger. But the show is effortlessly stolen by Angela Lansbury, playing one of the most complex, most compelling villains in movie history. The moment near the end where the plot takes its final twist and Lansbury's face reveals she knows what's about to happen next ranks with the great moments in (relatively) modern cinema.

I'd somehow missed seeing this grim drama in my lifelong survey of blaxploitation movie classics, but I'm glad I caught up with it. It lacks the freewheeling craziness of something like "Truck Turner" or "The Mack" (or, for that matter, "Dolemite"), but what it misses in fun it makes up in sheer nerve-wracking tension. Guys rob a payoff from the black gangsters in Harlem to the white Mafia guys and find themselves desperately pursued by the black mob, the white mob and two bickering cops (Anthony Quinn and Yaphet Kotto). It's solid all the way through, with jaw-dropping views of the hellhole that was New York in the early 1970s. My only gripe? The version of Bobby Womack's theme song is terrible -- nothing like the truly brilliant version on the (highly recommended) soundtrack album.

Obscure 1942 B-movie that runs a mere 51 minutes (!) and manages to make even that short running time feel padded and too long. A nice-guy criminal gets paroled, then lands a job as a news photographer but keeps running into his old parole officer. If you're interesting in this sort of thing, check out Jimmy Cagney's fun "Picture Snatcher" instead. This one, to be honest, is really only worth watching for a very brief appearance by a shockingly young Jackie Gleason in the first few minutes.

Yet another one watched for the podcast. It holds up beautifully, with a perfect cast, perfect script and a completely compelling arc following Rick's progress from professional cynic to dedicated patriot. If you've seen it, you know how good it is, possibly the single best example of what the Hollywood studio system could do when everything was firing on all cylinders. If you haven't seen it, why the hell are you sitting here reading this blog? Go watch it already!

Introducing ... the McGurk Effect

Obviously, I've been more than slacking off on this blog, stopping by a few times a month to hype my comics and ramble about movies. So here's something interesting that has nothing to do with either. Ever hear of the McGurk Effect? It's a pretty bizarre result of what you're seeing affecting what you're hearing. Watch this guy explain it, then observe this somewhat startling example of it in action.

For the most dramatic impact, when the two images of the woman appear at the 2:30 mark, cover up half your screen so you only see one face, and listen. Then take the counter back to 2:30 and cover up the other face ... and remember, it's exactly the same audio.

Buy My Comics, Make Me Rich: TEEN TITANS #8

Be sure to pick up the latest issue of TEEN TITANS when it hits the stores Wednesday. You can either get it with this triumphant cover by Bengal of our teen heroes (briefly) enjoying their fame ...


Or you can go with the Lost Boys variant model, with art provided by Alex Garner...


Either way, what's inside is, as usual, provided by yours truly (script), Kenneth Rocafort (art), Blond (colors) and John J. Hill (letters), with editing duties by Rickey Purdin, Mike Cotton and Eddie Berganza. Check out a preview here.
Things lighten up a bit in this issue, with Gar guest starring on a famous weekend sketch comedy show (no, not that one, the other one), Bunker fielding offers from reality show producers, Raven enjoying a concert by her very own tribute band, Cassie and Tanya dealing with an overzealous fan and Red Robin, well, taking himself a bit too seriously. Plus, there's a last page, last minute appearance by a certain superhero with a big S on his chest (no, not that one, the other one).

This is your last issue of TEEN TITANS for a few months, what with the usual DC books taking a break for the big Convergence event. But don't worry -- there's a TEEN TITANS annual coming your way (with script from Tom "Grayson" King, with some assistance from yours truly) and an eight-page special story by the usual team of me and Kenneth that leads directly into the chaos that's coming.

And trust me -- a lot of chaos is coming. I promise.

Movies I Watched in February

Sorry for the delay, folks. Here you go...

I've watched (and written about) the Marx Brothers' "Horsefeathers" plenty in recent months, mostly because it's become one of Allie's favorites -- and no wonder. Like I said last time around, it's slowly but surely knocking the great "Duck Soup" out of its spot as my all-time favorite Marx Brothers movie. So I don't have a whole lot to add here, except to mention that it's the movie that landed the brothers Marx on the cover of Time Magazine, as shown above. One question? Whose boneheaded decision was it to put Zeppo front and center and stick Groucho way in the back?

Fairly entertaining bit of vintage '80s sleaze, courtesy of director John Frankenheimer. Roy Scheider plays a California businessman whose affair (with a young Kelly Preston, of all people) gets him into blackmail trouble that could hurt him financially and his wife (played by Ann-Margret) wife politically, as she's planning a run for office. The movie rambles on a bit, but it gets several jolts of energy from the real star of the show, John Glover, who plays the head blackmailer. As Scheider takes things into his own hands and starts to turn the tables on Glover and company, Glover gets more and more outrageous (and dangerous). He's a fun actor, and his live-wire performance is what makes "52 Pick-Up" worth watching. Need more? There's also Clarence Williams III (from TV's "Mod Squad") as a cool-as-ice killer, former Prince protege Vanity as a prostitute and several vintage '80s adult film stars in an early party scene. It's not a great movie by any means, but it's not the worst way you could find to pass a hundred and ten minutes.



I hadn't watched this Richard Linklater comedy in at least a decade, but figured Allie would get a kick out of its kid-centered story and the presence of Jack Black, who she first encountered in "Kung Fu Panda," the first movie she ever saw in a theater.  I'm happy to report that it holds up nicely. One of the keys to the movie's success is that Linklater and company cast kids who were musicians first and actors second, meaning the key scenes in the movie -- namely, those scenes where the band is coming together and cutting loose -- are completely believable. Watching it as a parent, I have a hard time believing everyone would forgive all negligence the school committed no matter how great that final concert is, but what's important that it works dramatically, and, I must admit, that final concert is pretty damned spectacular, capturing the joy and release that rock 'n' roll, at it's best and rarest moments, genuinely provides. Catchy song, too.

Another one I've written about several times, and another one of Allie's favorites. If you haven't seen it, by all means check it out. It really is a great little movie.

Compelling, revealing and more than a little disturbing, this low-budget documentary profiles renowned comic book artist Steve "The Dude" Rude, who in his long and storied career has drawn Superman, Spider-Man, the X-Men, Captain America, the Hulk, Mister Miracle and, of course, Nexus, the indy comics character he co-created with Mike Baron. It's Nexus that made him famous, and those glorious sci-fi comics are what he'll always be known for, but Rude has a classic, clean style that works with just about any character out there. Unfortunately, Rude also has some not insignificant emotional issues that, combined with a demanding vision of what his art and comics could (and should) be, makes him more than a little hard to work with. "Rude Dude" puts the focus squarely on these issues, talking candidly with Rude and his family about how they've done more than lost him jobs -- they've landed him in jail and in a mental institution. If you like Rude's work -- as I do, very much -- you'll be fascinated by the peeks at his process, but you'll also be unnerved by the evidence that one of the most talented comic book illustrators ever to pick up a pencil can't seem to find a way to make comics in this day and age. 

Buy My Comics, Make Me Rich: TEEN TITANS #7

I'm a day late on this one, but there's still plenty of time to head out to your local comic book shop and pick up a copy of TEEN TITANS #7, featuring story by yours truly and art by Kenneth Rocafort. Choose between this cover, by Bengai....



... or this cover, by Sean Galloway. Interiors are the same either way.


The story shows our young heroes dealing with the aftermath of that unfortunate nuclear explosion that lit up the skies over Manhattan last issue. They're facing a new foe, trying to prevent New York from being erased -- in every sense of the word -- and having their adventures broadcast all over the world.

Also, as a bonus, Gar turns into a big green whale and squashes some badguys. You want to see that, right? Of course you do.

Want a sneak preview? Click here.

Movies I Watched in January, Part 2

Showed Allie this one, which I remember being completely blown away by back in 1988. So how does it hold up, almost 30 years and a revolution in digital effect later? Not too bad, though the things that knocked it down a couple of notches back then -- the frenetic pace and a lead character who's less than lovable -- haven't improved in the meantime. What still works, though, really works well: Bob Hoskin's surprisingly nuanced performance (especially considering he was acting against nobody for a big chunk of the movie), Christopher Lloyd's genuinely creepy villain, and the special effects, which despite the fact (or maybe, more likely, because of the fact) that they aren't computer based, still look great. By the way, the overwhelming, terrifying craziness of Toontown makes a handy metaphor for whatever happens to be going on inside your kid's head at any given moment. Feel free to use it.

I love Paul Thomas Anderson, but I confess, though I admired the technique and enjoyed (mostly) the experience, I just wasn't feeling this one like I wanted to. It looks great, and the endless parade of kooky personalities was fun, but laid-back stoner vibe is not my favorite vibe in the world. "The Master" was deliberately paced, too (in other words, slow), but it had a building intensity that "Inherent Vice" lacked, which drained much of the enjoyment out of the picture by the end. I did love Josh Brolin, though -- his character lit up the movie whenever he was onscreen, and a little more of that crazy energy would've helped a lot. Still, Anderson is one of the most interesting, most demanding filmmakers working today, and I'll be in line to buy a ticket to whatever he does next.


Fascinating, surprisingly heartwarming documentary about Joe Sarno, who, with the help of his wife, Peggy Steffans, made  some intriguing adult movies back in the 1960s. Sarno's films played in adult theaters and featured copious nudity like all the other black-and-white sleazies of the pre-porn era, but they stood apart because they were actually about adult relationships and took pains to examine what happened when they went wrong. Catching up with the couple when Sarno is in his 80s and struggling to get financing for another movie, "A Life in Dirty Movies" quickly becomes less about the films and more about Joe and Peggy. It's a powerful, touching look at a couple who've loved each other for decades, through good times and bad, and what happens when things inevitably end. There's an unforgettable scene near the conclusion after SPOILERS Joe passes away, and Peggy proudly describes how his obit took up a good chunk of space in the hallowed New York Times. Peggy's rich mother did everything she could to split them up, so Peggy's glee at showing her mother that clipping (which she carries everywhere) is the perfect way to end this strange, special little film.

It's great, and upon second viewing, holds up even better. This time around, as I said on Twitter, Drax the Destroyer was the one who stood out, brought to hilarious life by a perfectly deadpan Dave Baustista. I'm guessing you've seen it, but even if you have, watch it again.

Movies I Watched in January, Part 1

Started off the new year with an old movie, but a very good one...

Like most Marx Brothers fans, I consider “Duck Soup” their most impressive achievement, a surreal masterpiece that puts the fate of entire nations in the hands of Groucho, Chico and Harpo (and, sort of, Zeppo). It’s a classic, one of the all-time greats, no doubt about it – but is it their funniest? After watching “Horse Feathers” for the umpteenth time last month (Allie chose it – and believe me, I’m not complaining), I’m thinking that for pure laughs, this one tops “Duck Soup.” There are so many brilliant scenes – the “swordfish” bit at the speakeasy, the football game, the classroom chaos (which dates way, way back to their vaudeville days) that the movie never takes a breather – and, more importantly, never lets you take a breather. And though Margaret Dumont, Groucho’s legendary foil, is nowhere to be seen, Thelma Todd as the sexy “college widow” more than makes up for her absence. There are so many other elements that elevate “Horse Feathers” – the repeated singing (or whistling, in Harpo’s case) of “Everyone Says I Love You,” the use of the archaic (even then, I’ll bet) phrase “waxing wroth” as wonderfully blatant set-up for a Groucho joke, and the scene I’m fascinated by lately, where Harpo keeps tossing books into a fireplace until, by its end, he’s shoveling a huge pile onto a huge blaze using a pitchfork – all while Groucho and Chico negotiate a contract a few feet away. It’s all so insane!


Intriguing little pre-Coder starring two of my favorite actors of that era, Marion Marsh and Warren William with a deliberately lurid title. Marsh (who actually was under 18 when it was filmed) plays a nice girl who gets fed up with the endless poverty of her existence and vows to hook up with a rich guy and sleep her way to prosperity.  She stumbles up to the penthouse apartment of Warren William, where a crazed swim party is underway, and luckily for her, William is charmed by her innate goodness and decides not to take advantage of her. It's a pretty standard arc for a pre-Code movie, with a bit of decadence bookended by scenes of innocence, but "Under 18" has several interesting touches -- a bit of location shooting in NYC, some offbeat supporting characters in the form of Marsh's sister and her deadbeat husband and, of course, the very likable leads. There's also a great scene early on where the rich patrons of a luxury store barely understand what a "Coca Cola" is.

I knew Gore Vidal as a media personality and author (I remember reading his "Lincoln" in a book club years ago), but I didn't know much about the specifics of his life -- and as this movie points out, it's pretty damned fascinating. For one thing, his father was an aviation pioneer and the lover of none other than Amelia Earhart. Gore himself flew a plane solo as a child, and there's vintage footage here to prove it. The movie does a fine job of capturing Vidal's acerbic wit, liberal outlook and general disgust with modern America, and if you agree with him (as I do, for the most part), you'll have a grand old time. 

Another documentary about another strong personality, though one very, very different from Gore Vidal. John Milius is the mind behind such classics as "Apocalypse Now," "Conan the Barbarian," "Dirty Harry" and, ahem, "Red Dawn." This doc examines all those films, along with Milius' proclivity for guns, right-leaning politics and generally manly pursuits. Unlike Gore Vidal, Milius and I don't see eye-to-eye politically, but he seems like a fascinating character and a stand-up guy besides. Plus, he's exactly the sort of larger-than-life personality perfect for a doc like this. The movie does cover Milius' recent stroke, which you'd think would end things on a down note, but Milius is not the sort of person who lets anything -- even a stroke -- stop him, and the final moments of the movie are damn near perfect.

Having just  read Dave Itzkoff''s book about "Network," "Mad As Hell," I wanted to see Paddy Chayefsky's other bitter black comedy of the 1970s, "The Hospital." And, well, it's no "Network." The black comedy works well, with several patients dying needless deaths at the hands of impenetrable bureaucracy, but there's a whole subplot with George C. Scott's suicidal character finding a new lease on life after some violent sex with free spirit Diana Rigg. It's sort of like the romance between Faye Dunaway and William Holden in "Network," except a lot more cliched and a lot less interesting. Stick with "Network."
Up next: A 1980s animation classic and a documentary about a couple who spent decades making dirty movies.

Buy My Comics, Make Me Rich: TEEN TITANS #6

That's Gar Logan, AKA Beast Boy, staring at  ... well, staring at something fairly horrible and pretty damned amazing in a scene from the end of the new issue of TEEN TITANS, which hits the stands today. The art comes courtesy of Scott Hepburn, who's finishing up his two-issue run and brings what I think you'll agree is an impressive amount of energy and drama to the story.

Speaking of art, there are two covers available for this issue. First up, there's this shot of Manchester Black, Wonder Girl and the latest addition to the team, the brand new Power Girl (you can read about her here). That striking image is by Kalman Andrasofszky....


And then, to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the Flash (the old, Golden Age version, with the hubcap helmet), there's a variant cover by none other than Michael and Laura Allred, based on the vintage Titans by the late, great Nick Cardy...

Personally, I recommend you buy them both, which is obviously easy for me to say, considering I've already got my comp copies, but really -- aren't those two damned good looking covers? Inside, you'll find part 2 of "Human Resources," which features our heroes regrouping after fighting some pill-popping, souped-up teens, then dealing with the usual teen issues -- parents, friends and pop music. Until, of course, whatever happens that makes Gar so wide-eyed in the above panel. And then, my friends, that's when things really start to get interesting.

Check out a preview of the first several pages here.

Book Update #1: One down, one added

First off, I finished David Carr's "The Night of the Gun," the first volume on my Books I Vow to Read list.

Pretty solid memoir with a twist -- New York Times reporter Carr supplemented his own memories of addiction, recovery, re-addiction and re-recovery by interviewing the people who witnessed his fall and rise (and fall and rise), including family members, friends and co-workers. He also includes several police reports, medical documents and clippings written both stoned and sober. Like many such memoirs, "The Night of the Gun" was most fascinating when it was most harrowing, with Carr risking his own life (and the lives of his twin daughters) in the pursuit of the next high. When he turned the corner and got sober, it loses a bit of that lurid appeal. But -- SPOILER ALERT -- when Carr relapses late in the game (described in a chapter wittily titled "Additional Research," the book regains its grim power and hangs onto it until the final pages.

The verdict: Worth reading, especially if you're interested in this sort of subject. I found it especially intriguing after spending a year or so working in the marketing department of a business focused on addiction recovery and mental illness.


Don't let that list of books-to-be-read fool you: I'm still buying new books. Thanks to an Amazon gift card, I'm the proud owner of the above volume, which is a thick encyclopedia focusing on things that "used to be funny," in the words of author Christopher Miller. Subject matter covered includes such vintage comic elements as "alley cats," "pants," "limburger," and "yes men." But what fascinates me about is that the book isn't just a lighthearted stroll down memory lane, it's also a serious examination of what made previous generations chuckle, even if they shouldn't have -- other entries cover topics like "black people," "physical infirmities" and "rape." More than just about anything, I love offbeat excursions into forgotten pop culture, so, in other words, the book seems like it was written specifically for me. Can't wait to dig in.

(It wasn't until I ordered the book, by the way, that I realized author Christopher Miller was the same guy who wrote "Cardboard Universe: A Guide to the World of Phoebus K. Dank." That book, which told the life story of (fictional) sci-fi writer Phoebus K. Dank via hundreds of (fictional) entries in a (fictional) encyclopedia dedicated to his life and works. Inspired by (actual) sci-fi writer Philip K. Dick, "Cardboard Universe" is one of the most imaginative books I've read in years (Miller creates dozens and dozens of stories and novels Dank supposedly wrote.) Consider that one highly recommended.