Things that drive Peter nuts, 1997 edition

Originally published April 25, 1997, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1223

And now, for no discernable reason whatsoever, a list of things that drive me nuts. In no particular order, they are:

New technology.  I love my laserdisc player.

Then again, I also loved my record player.

But then compact discs came along, and my record player became obsolete because I couldn’t get records anymore.

Now, all of a sudden, manufacturers are trying to foist a new format called DVD, which is designed to appeal to laserdisc owners—and, obviously to try to replace laserdiscs.

No. Uh uh. Forget it.

I’ve got a library of laserdiscs and my Pioneer laserdisc player.

I don’t want to change.

I will not change.

I will not support this DVD thing. And they’d better not stop manufacturing laserdiscs or I’m coming after somebody.

I don’t know who yet.

I’m not sure where.

Could be an exec.

Could be you.

Yes, that’s right, I might go so berserk that I attack innocent CBG readers on the off chance that they supported DVD and made my life that much more miserable. So, save money—and save yourself.

* * *

Out of Order Artists. Most of the comics I write, I write them using what’s called the “Marvel style.”

As opposed to writing a story full script (which details a panel by panel breakdown, and all the dialogue within each panel), when I write a story Marvel style, it basically reads like a short story written in present tense. This story is given to the artist, who then breaks the story down visually. The pages are then sent back to me in photocopy form.

I script them. That is to say, I write the dialogue, indicate balloon placement on the art pages, and send it back to Marvel so that the letterer uses it as a guide for actually lettering the comic. Usually when the art pages come in, the editors want me to script the pages and turn them around as quickly as possible.

And every so often, I will get an artist who makes this impossible. How? Because he won’t pencil the pages in order. If the editor calls me and says, “I got in five pages,” silly me. I think this means that I’m going to get pages one through five. No. I get pages 1, 5, 9, 15, and 21.

It’s impossible to get any sort of dialogue flow that way. You can’t segue from one page to the next because you don’t know what the next page is going to be. Particularly if the artist has, in addition to handing in odd chunks, decided to make changes to the story as he goes. In that event, you simply don’t have a prayer of scripting anything coherent.

So you sit there and wait for more pages to come in, and meanwhile the book falls further behind on deadlines, putting that much more strain on the inker, letterer and colorist.

* * *

Mystery Science Theater 3000. Make no mistake, I’m a fan of the show. In fact, Bob Greenberger, Mike Friedman and I perform Mystery Trekkie Theater 3000 every year at a convention called “Shore Leave” in Maryland, during which we rip an old episode of Star Trek to shreds.

The problem is, thanks to MST3K, I now find myself making fun of all kinds of movies, whether they’re good or not. For instance: I love The Empire Strikes Back. Always have. But when I saw it the other day, I kept making wisecracks for the amusement of friends sitting nearby (who either genuinely thought I was funny, or else were just too polite to say that I was ruining the movie for them).

For instance, when the Admiral walks into Vader’s quarters and Vader is seated in that big egg-like platform of his—the one where he’s only visible from the waist up—the Admiral tells Vader that the asteroid field is making it impossible to find the Millennium Falcon. Vader responds with something like, “Asteroids are not my concern, Admiral. I want that ship!” And in a deep Vader-like voice, I piped up, “And never interrupt me while I’m on the toilet again!”

Or the part where the imprisoned Chewbacca is howling as loud, piercing, disruptive sounds fill the room. And, adopting a Londo Mollari voice, I said, “Narn Opera,” a joke only Babylon 5 fans will get.

Or the part where Luke has shown up to rescue his friends and Leia, as she is being dragged off camera, shouts, “Luke, it’s a trap!” To which I shouted back, “What’d you say? It’s a what?” And Leia obligingly repeats, “It’s a trap!”

Odd. I’ve been seeing a lot of films alone lately. I wonder if there’s a connection.

* * *

Canon Computer Systems. I have a Canon Notejet 486. It’s a laptop computer with a built in printer. I’ve had it for several years. It broke.

To say I got zero support from Canon is to understate the problem.

There is absolutely no local place where I can get it fixed.

The Canon office from which I purchased it is gone, with no forwarding phone number. And no one will handle a Canon. Even Canon won’t handle Canon.

Since the machine is no longer under warranty, and since I didn’t have any sort of extended plan (possibly because it wasn’t offered), Canon refuses to handle the repairs.

The only place I can get it fixed is in California. I have to ship it to them and, since they handle repairs for the entire country, it’ll take at least a month before I have it back.

* * *

Truncated Oscar Speeches. It takes years to get a movie made. Years. And it bugs the hell out of me when the orchestra cuts in after thirty seconds, interrupting the speeches.

The obvious reason is to stop the show from running long. Well, they have that stupid rule in place and the latest broadcast ran three and a half hours. I suggest that the producers either bite the bullet and cut the show down to announcing the best actor, best actress and best picture, and that’s all. Or else they give up and let the show go four hours or more.

This is the age of VCRs; if people on the East Coast don’t want to stay up past midnight, let ‘em tape it.

I loved it when Cuba Gooding, Jr., endeavored to shout above the orchestra in accepting the Best Supporting Actor award.

The audience only encouraged it, jumping to their feet and applauding as Gooding dueled the musicians and pretty much won. I swear, if by some miracle one of my screenplays (I have six unproduced on hand, in case anyone’s interested) was ever Oscar nominated, I’d come armed with a small bullhorn.

As a side note, boy, am I kicking myself that I didn’t tape that opening montage with Billy Crystal in all those films. How the hell long did it take to put all that together? Best opening ever.

* * *

PBS Drives. Hardly an original observation, but this is really getting out of control.

In my neck of the woods, I can cruise past three different PBS stations throughout the day and never once see any programming. Just pledge drives. And whenever there’s anything I want to see, it’s unwatchable.

I wanted to see the Riverdance concert. Couldn’t watch it. Fifteen minutes of program, ten minutes of pledge drive. If PBS is trying to raise money, they’re succeeding. I wound up buying the videotape. My local tape store made money.

* * *

Bad movies become tolerable on TV. The reason this drives me nuts is because I’m not entirely sure why this is the case.

Films which I thought were incredibly disappointing in the theater, ranging from Judge Dredd to the lame submarine comedy Down Periscope—films I could barely sit through the first time—I now find eminently tolerable on cable.

Has TV so scaled down our expectations that we simply don’t care whether the programs are any good?

* * *

Batman and Robin. Is it just me, or is this the worst trailer I’ve ever seen for a Batman movie? Think about the adrenalin rush, the simple power of the trailer for the original Batman movie. The visuals, the dialogue, the mood all crackled—and it didn’t even have music to drive it.

And now look what we’ve got. Batman always looks constricted in his costume. But he’s Baryshnikov compared to Arnold Schwarzenegger as Mr. Freeze, clomping along in a costume that makes him look like Robofridge. Furthermore, they managed the impressive feat of presenting Uma Thurman in a manner in which she doesn’t look gorgeous. The dialogue uttered during the trailer was achingly awful (okay, okay, the line about Superman was cute—but that’s it). The march towards doping up the Batman movie series continues unabated. If Batman and Robin features “Bam” and “Zowie” superimposed over the fight scenes, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)