Will Pfeifer's Blog, page 25

Great Moments in Comics, Part 42

Orson Welles and Superman team up to use an unconscious Martian as a ventriloquist dummy to convince Mars not to attack Earth. Really.
"Black Magic on Mars," Superman #62, Jan/Feb 1950, script uncredited, pencils by Wayne Boring, inks by Stan Kaye. Reprinted in the book "Superman from the Thirties to the Seventies," which is where I saw it (back during the actual 1970s) for the first time. I was only a grade schooler, so while I'd heard of Superman, I think this was the first time I ever heard of Orson Welles -- and I probably thought he was a fictional character. The story ties into the 1949 Welles' movie "Black Magic," which explains the title and Welles' costume. You can read all about the story and see plenty of art here.

Great Moments in Comics, Part 41

Batman's girlfriend, Silver St. Cloud, stops by the Kent State Airport to charter a plane.

"Sign of the Joker," Detective Comics #476, March/April 1978. Script by Steve Englehart, pencils by Marshall Rogers, inks by Terry Austin, colors by Glynis Wein, letters by Milton Snappin, editing by Julius Schwartz

By the way, Kent State University, my alma mater, does in fact have an airport -- mostly because of the school's flight program. Here's the official website, in case you're looking to charter a flight to Gotham.

Words on Film, Part 6: 'Nightmare of Ecstasy'

Like many film geeks of my generation (which, to clarify, is probably a generation or so earlier than yours), I discovered legendary filmmaker Edward D. Wood Jr. not on the internet (didn't exist), the Tim Burton movie (ditto) or videotapes (ditto again), but in the pages of the 1980 book "The Golden Turkey Awards" by Harry and Michael Medved. It proclaimed Wood "the Worst Director of All Time" and inadvertantly led to the surprisingly respectful and affectionate cult of Ed Wood that exists today.

But that's not the book I'm talking about here. Instead, I'm talking about a book that realizes though his movies may have been a little rougher around the edges than those coming out of the big studios, Ed Wood was a fascinating figure making fascinating films. Author Rudolph Grey spent nearly a decade researching and writing his 1992 book, "Nightmare of Ecstasy: The Life and Art of Edward D. Wood Jr.," and all that effort paid off. It's a great book, sort of a sideways history of Hollywood, tracing Wood's life from his birth in the late 19th century to his death in 1978, after sad decades fueled by liquor, pornography, liquor and more liquor. (That's the part of the story Tim Burton's otherwise excellent movie left out.) Rudolph tells the tale in an oral history format, with friends, actors, ex-wives and other people connected to Wood sharing their always fascinating, sometimes hilarious stories.

Because he started working on the book in the early 1980s, just a few years after Wood died, Grey was able to interview many people who are now deceased, which makes his book -- besides being endlessly entertaining -- a valuable piece of cinema history. There are also scores of illustrations from all phases of Wood's life, including childhood pictures, movie stills, candid snapshots and one amazing Christmas card where Ed dresses up as the Lord Jesus himself. (I included it in a Christmas blog post here.)

"Nightmare of Ecstasy" is one of my all-time favorite movie books, mostly because it tells a story unlike every other movie book on my shelf. It's about a guy who, more than anything, wanted to make films and who, against all odds, directed some very memorable ones. "Worst of All Time"? Hardly. Wood's movies are genuine American folk art, lacking the slickness of the Hollywood studios but revealing much more about the times in which they were made and the man who made them. And thankfully, in this age of box office totals and endless sequels, the simple cinema of Edward D. Wood Jr. still gets some love. This week, The Dissolve has chosen "Plan 9 from Outer Space," Ed's magnum opus, as its Movie of the Week. Go here to read all about it, then go to Joe Blevin's blog, Dead 2 Rights, and read his insanely detailed, surprisingly thoughtful series, "Ed Wood Wednesdays."

Then read this book. If you love movies -- good, bad or unbelievable -- I don't think you'll be able to put it down.

Could this, at long last, be the triumphant return of Michael Keaton?

I've always liked Michael Keaton. Ever since he made his first big splash on the big screen in "Night Shift," he's been the best thing about the movies he's been in, whether they were good ("Beetlejuice"), bad ("Gung Ho") or great ("Toy Story 3," in which he provided the voice of Ken). Even in a movie like Tim Burton's "Batman," where, back in 1989, it seemed like the best things were the spooky set design, Jack Nicholson as the Joker and the overall dark mood, it becomes clear decades later that Keaton's slightly off-kilter portrayal is just about the only thing worth watching in that movie.

Since those big star days, Keaton has had small parts in movies like "The Other Guys" or (ugh) "Herbie Fully Loaded" (which, for reasons I can't remember,
Something, say, like this?



It's got a great cast (Edward Norton! Naomi Watts! Emma Stone!) It's got what looks to be a big budget, what with those special effects and location shooting in Times Square. It's got some weird plot about an actor who once played a superhero making one last stab at glory (hmmmm). It's got the guy who directed "Amores Perros," "21 Grams" and "Babel" -- not exactly dumb, by-the-numbers comedies. It has Keaton fighting Edward Norton in his underwear. (It's Batman versus the Hulk!) And it's even got Keaton doing a later-in-life version of either his Batman voice, Christian Bale's Batman voice or some weird combination of the two.

In other words, this could be exactly what I've been waiting for, Mr. Keaton. Thanks!

Words on Film, Part 5: 'JFK: The Book of the Film'

Listen, I like Oliver Stone movies (most of 'em, anyway) and I love "JFK." As history, I think it's a bunch of nonsense, but as a piece of cinema, I think it's nothing short of amazing. What I like about the movie (and this is what I like most about Oliver Stone in general) is that it uses any technique -- flashbacks, flash-forwards, different film stocks, fantasy sequences, several levels of narration, sound effects, speeches, you name it -- to tell its story. Yes, that story might be crazy, but for its entire three-hour-plus running time, I find it nothing short of mesmerizing.  Obviously, your mileage may vary.

"JFK: The Book of the Film" is the same sort of beast, captured on paper instead of celluloid. In nearly 600 pages, it collects the entire screenplay of "JFK," and that's the uncut screenplay (of course), not the edited version that played in theaters. But that's only the tip of the magic bullet, friends. That screenplay is heavily annotated with notes of all kinds, backing up Stone's research and confirming (well, sort of) all the assumptions made in the movie. Plus, the book includes more than 300 (!) pages of what appears to be every article, review, screed and op-ed piece written about or in response to Stone's film. And as if that weren't enough, the book adds dozens of pages of historical documents for good measure.

You might not agree with the conclusions that Stone arrives at (I don't), but you have to admire how hard he worked to make his argument.

Movies I Watched in May

It's not a good movie, exactly, but if you're fascinated by the early days of New York punk (like I am), you'll probably find something to enjoy, whether it's the sitcom-level portrayals of vintage punksters the Ramones or the Dead Boys, the inclusion of Legs McNeil and John Holmstrom, the guys behind Punk Magazine or, in the oddest bit of casting in a good long time, the vision of George Costanza's mom playing Hans Gruber's mom (in other words, Estelle Harris as the mother of Alan Rickman, who stars in the film as CBGB founder Hilly Kristal). Good music, though. Obviously.

Strange little gangster picture with an undeniably memorable title. Released in 1936, three years after Prohibition (and two years after the pre-Code era), it lacks the rat-tat-tat energy of the great Warner Bros. films but finds entertainment in an offbeat plot involving a couple of rival newspapermen and a woman desperate to get a job in the newsroom. Sexist to an almost surreal degree (as most movies from this era are), it still manages to throw a few twists and turns into what, by 1936, was already a pretty worn-out formula.

As if I need to point it out, Matthew McConaughey has been having a hell of a year, what with "True Detective," The Wolf of Wall St." and this movie, which won him the Best Actor Oscar. He's very good in "Dallas Buyers Club," bringing a sense of desperation and eventual determination to what could be a role that, in lesser hands, would be little more than obvious Oscar bait. The rest of the movie's not too bad, either.

Here's an obscure documentary, one that, as far as I know, has never been (legally) released on home video in the country it depicts. In its sick little heart, it's really little more than a sleazy mondo film, collecting all sorts of awful footage of violence, death and human misery and wrapping it up in the guise of a call to arms with deadly serious narration and a scolding, cynical attitude. That being said, it's undeniably fascinating, with the familiar stories of Manson, Jim Jones and various assassinations mixed with more obscure (but just as disturbing) segments devoted to various psychopaths, mass murderers and, in the most memorable segment, a guy who wired a rifle to a loan officer's neck and marched him around town for three whole days.

If you never hated nuns before, you'll hate them after watching this movie -- even though the final message of the film is how they should be forgiven for causing misery in the lives of countless young women. Judi Dench is typically strong in the title role, and the usually comic Steve Coogan (who also wrote the screenplay) manages to add a few needed bits of levity to what's otherwise a very serious story. It's better -- and much more uplifting -- than I expected, given the subject matter, but I still hated those damned nuns when the credits rolled.

Directed by the Mayles brothers, who also brought us the brilliant Rolling Stones concert movie/snuff film "Gimme Shelter," this is a less violent but just-as-compelling movie about a group of Bible salesmen desperately trying to unload their (surprisingly expensive) wares on poor folks who really can't afford them. The Mayleses do an impressive job of capturing the back-and-forth arguments between salesmen and prospects, showing the frustration, desperation and exhaustion on both sides. After a while, it becomes nothing less than mesmerizing -- I can't recommend this one highly enough.

I loved the Coen Brothers' portrayal of a struggling folk musician, but my wife hated it. She thought all of the characters were unlikeable to varying degrees, and though I have a hard time arguing that point, I've never cared much about how likeable a character is as long as he or she is interesting. I liked it because I found Llewyn and company to be a fascinating bunch. Amy also wasn't wild about the rambling, generally plotless form of the film, but I thought it fit the loose mood of the times and the disjointed mind of the lead character. Plus, though I'm not a huge fan of folk, the music was excellent and beautifully performed, and the settings -- from Greenwich Village to the midwest to a hilariously claustrophobic hallway -- were worth the price of admission. If only "CBGB" had been a tenth as good as this movie...

Another gangster filmed released just after the glorious, free-for-all pre-Code era ended, this 1935 thriller was a lot wilder -- and a lot more fun -- than the previously mentioned "Women Are Trouble." It starts off as a prison picture, with Chester Morris playing a seemingly unbalanced convict who (spoilers for a 79-year-old movie) turns out to be an undercover agent trying to get close to the leader of the dreaded Purple Gang. From the violent escape to various close scrapes and plot reversals, "Public Hero Number 1" is consistently entertaining, with solid supporting work from Jean Arthur, Lewis Stone and, best of all, top-billed Lionel Barrymore (aka Mr. Potter from "It's a Wonderful Life") as a constantly drunken mob doctor. Check this one out the next time it inevitably airs late at night on Turner Classic Movies.

When you hear a movie is titled "Tear Gas Squad," you assume there will be plenty of tear gas action, probably delivered by some sort of squad. Well, you know what happens when you assume something. This movie, rather than featuring any of that sweet, sweet tear gas action, instead spends almost its entire running time showing how singer Dennis Morgan joins the police force to woo Gloria Dickson away from her cop boyfriend (John Payne, the male lead of "Miracle on 34th St.") and winds up singing in the police force glee club rather than fighting crime. There is a bit of that much-anticipated tear gas action in the final few minutes when Morgan sneaks into a building to rescue Payne, but even then, it's just a few capsules fired by a few random cops. Very disappointing. In fact, see that poster above this paragraph? It's roughly 100 times more exciting than the movie itself.

The month ended with the most bizarre offering of them all, this 1979 Italian-produced sci-fi mind-bender with a cast that includes John Huston, Shelley Winters, Lance Henriksen and, believe it or not, Sam Peckinpah. Ripped off in equal parts from "The Exorcist," "The Omen," "Close Encounters," Rosemary's Baby" and "The Birds," it's never not entertaining and frequently astonishing. Not to be missed. I have much more to say about it in my "It Came from the Cultosphere" column, which will run this weekend at diffuser.fm. Didn't know I was writing a cult movie column for Diffuser? I am! Check them out at this link.

Words on Film, Part 4: 'Kino Delirium: The Films of Guy Maddin'

Ever since I received a pair of review DVDs of his early films years ago, Guy Maddin has been one of my favorite directors. Hailing from Winnipeg and creating an ersatz version of the movies that were released at the dawn of the sound era, he's like no one else I've ever seen. His films manage to be deeply personal, deeply strange and deeply funny, all at the same time. If you want a sample of his magic, I highly recommend checking out his short film, "The Heart of the World," at this link.

"Kino Delirium" was released back in 2000, so it doesn't include some of Maddin's more recent work, like "My Winnipeg," "Brand Upon the Brain!," "The Saddest Music in the World" (possibly his most mainstream film, which is saying something) and my personal favorite, "Cowards Bend the Knee." But that doesn't stop it from being a fascinating look at his early years, when he was crafting strange pieces of cinema like "Tales from the Gimli Hospital," "Careful" and "Archangel" -- each a bizarre feature that, if you didn't know better, you'd think was a semi-preserved artifact of a long-forgotten past.

Best of all, "Kino Delirium" is a solid showcase for Maddin's offbeat, deadpan sense of humor. He talks about which movies he'd like to steal from the resume of famous dead directors (being careful not to take anything that would be missed), and he shares a "four-point manifesto for better movies" with such bits of wisdom as "Head bumps have been long ignored by the industry" and "the sleeping actor is the best actor."

Words on Film, Part 3: 'The RKO Story'

Unlike the past two entries in this series, this book wasn't aimed at the sort of cinema weirdo (like, say, yours truly) who wanted to read a whole tome about "Videodrome" or "The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training." No, this 1982 coffee table book was aimed at a general audience with a general interest in movie history. I know this for a fact because I indirectly inherited it from my uncle and aunt, and as far as I know, neither of them were die-hard movie geeks. (Though my uncle did meet Marlene Dietrich when he was serving overseas in World War II. Pretty impressive, eh?)

Though "The RKO Story" kicks off with a brief history of the studio, the bulk of this book is devoted to a chronological listing of every single movie RKO released between 1929 and 1960, with a photo included for each film. When I was a kid, paging through this book at my aunt and uncle's house, it was that big photo of King Kong that attracted my attention, but now that I've devoted way, way too much time watching long-forgotten films on Turner Classic Movies, I've come to love many other RKO films, including "Cat People" and the works of legendary producer Val Lewton, Orson Welles' early efforts and classic films noir like "The Set-Up" and "Out of the Past." They're all here, plus hundreds more -- and when they show up in the middle of the night on TCM, this is the book I pull off the shelf to see what I'm watching.

If you're interested, it's surprisingly cheap to buy used on Amazon.com, and there are similar books devoted to the other great studios. I've got the Warner Bros. volume, being the fan of pre-Code cinema that I am -- but I've been tempted to get the Universal volume, if only for those classic horror films.

Buy My Comics, Make Me Rich: RED HOOD AND THE OUTLAWS #31

Hitting the stands today is the third issue in my three-issue run on RED HOOD AND THE OUTLAWS, tying up the story of Jason, Roy, Kori and their crazy adventures with the planet-wrecking aliens. Script by me (well, of course), pencils by Rafa Sandoval and R.B. Silva, inks by Paul Neary, Wayne Faucher and Jordi Tarragona, colors by Matt Yackey, letters by Travis Lanham.

Here's a preview to whet your appetite.

It's a fun issue, if I do say so myself, and I had a fun time writing it. Stop back in July when the first issue of TEEN TITANS hits the stands, brought to you by myself, Kenneth Rocafort and a very talented crew. See you in a couple of months.

Words on Film, Part 2: 'The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training'

This slim (120 pages) small (5-by-6 1/2 inches) volume is part of the "Deep Focus" series of books, each devoted to a single author writing about a single movie. Other volumes focus on such popular favorites as "Heathers," "Death Wish" and "They Live," but this book -- by Josh Wilker -- takes the interesting turn of focusing on a movie that we can all agree is pretty bad and largely forgettable, and finding some very interesting -- even profound -- things to say about the movie, families, competition and growing up in the 1970s.

The original "Bad News Bears" is a great film, one of the best sports movies ever made, but its sequel is an obvious cash grab, with William Devane standing in for Walter Matthau and Jack Earle Haley stepping up from vaguely dangerous supporting character to troubled lead. Not only do those weak spots matter in Wilker's book, they actually give him fuel for some genuinely inspired writing. Part review/recap of the movie and part autobiography/cultural history of the 1970s, it's one of the best movie books -- and best books, period -- I've read in a long time. Even if you've never seen the film, be sure to check out the book.

And then, pick up a copy of "Cardboard Gods," Wilker's look at his own childhood as seen through a box of vintage baseball cards. It's even better.