Monthly Archives: November 2009

…And Kids Like Them!

Posted on by

There’s been a bit of a back and forth on the old internets about all ages comics. Christopher Butcher weighs in and summarizes the kerfuffle here. His take is basically that it’s much ado about nothing, and that the complaining about a lack of all ages titles is really mostly about super-hero nostalgia:

So let’s really, really narrow this discussion about “all ages” comics to what it really is: Superhero Fans Want To Buy Superhero Comics For Their Kids That Are Simultaneously Exactly What They Read As Kids AND All New At The Same Time. They want all the comics on the stands to be ’safe’ for children, while still engaging them on an adult level like all of the other media targeted at adults. They want the stuff they read as kids and teenagers in the 70s and 80s (or hell, the 60s) to be the same as what’s published today for their kids. They will accept no substitutions, and most importantly they need it to be CANON. That’s right, even if the Superhero comics meet every other criteria, they can’t take place in their own “universe” or be the “for kids” version (even if it’s for ‘all ages’), it has to be part of the 616 or DCU continuity or else it isn’t ‘real’. Superhero fans want validation for their tastes and interests, just like the OCD football dad who couldn’t make it to the NFL and is going to live out his dreams in his son. Exactly the same sentiment, but without a million dollar paycheck at the end of ‘reading superhero comics’, so waaaay less pressure.

And that’s what Retailers, older retailers in particular, want to sell them. Because it’s what they read, and it’s what they know, and they have the same nostalgic feelings for and biases towards that material.

I’m always willing to sneer at superhero fans, as most folks know. But I think this maybe misses or downplays a fairly major point — kids really, really, really like superheroes. A lot. It’s not me who was foisting my old Spidey Super Stories and Super-friends comics on my kid because I desperately wanted him to read them for the sake of my overwhelming nostalgia. On the contrary, I pulled those out of the long boxes because my son was obsessed, and I figured it would be cheaper than buying new reading material. And let me tell you, by the time I’d read them fifty or sixty times out loud, any lingering nostalgia I felt for the material was killed well nigh dead.

Butcher goes on to talk about the Marvel Adventures all ages books, which he notes haven’t been doing so hot, especially in pamphlet form — especially, especially in the direct market. The Marvel Adventures books have come up more than a time or two on this blog (Most recently in a Vom Marlowe review here.) They’re in general quite good; certainly, my son has enjoyed a number of them, from Spider-Man to the Fantastic Four to the Avengers. And I can confirm as a parent that they tend to be more fun to read than old Superfriends comics.

The point, it seems to me, is that super-hero comics really should, in some sense, be for kids; that’s where the biggest potential audience would be, in any logical world. There are a small percentage of 35 year old men who are consumed with the desire to read super-hero comics, but there’s a much larger percentage of 5-10 year old boys who would (at least potentially) like to read those comics. The industry hasn’t totally abandoned the younger audience,it’s true — but it definitely sees them as a side-issue which it addresses fitfully, nervously, and not always very effectively.

So Butcher may be right that most of the hand-wringing about all-ages titles is from retailers working through misplaced nostalgia. But even if that’s so, I think it’s indisputable that Marvel and DC and the industry as a whole don’t really know how to sell super-hero comics to kids, which is embarrassing given the fact that selling super-hero comics to young boys should be about as difficult as distributing crack to addicts. I mean, it’s clear enough what the problem is in terms of distribution barriers, institutional focus, marketing, and so forth. But still, it’s pitiful.

Update: Heidi also weighs in on Chris’s post (link thanks to Brigid.

Lovers — I Am The West

Posted on by

Lovers
I Am the West
[Pop Heart Records]

Sometime in the oughts, folk and shoegazy pop crossbred, creating a sparse, drony, soundtrack for coffee-shops gently orbiting the moon. Is this Chan Marshall’s fault? And has somebody named it already?

In any case, whoever’s responsible, and whatever it’s called, I’m all for it. As are the Lovers; lead singer and writer Carolyn Berk’s tunes range from mid-tempo to slow. Everything’s a dreamy trudge; a nice fuzzy blanket of sound, sprinkled with sweet little songwriting shivers: a touch of harmony here, a dollop of strings there. I go back and forth on which is my favorite tune…but Let’s Stay Lost is certainly a contender. It has a syncopated keyboard and drum intro, ending in a half beat of silence before Berk comes in with a hooky, strolling vocal line “You and me babe/we got lost in the same maze,”; a couple more couplets and then there’s another voice, singing long held “ahhhhs” — and then you get to a fantastic, weird, bridge, with the bandmembers doing sunny, almost Beach Boys harmonies while somebody plays what sounds like a banjo. “Stay Another Night” is great too; it’s got the slow grace of Dylan’s ballads, plus a goofy keyboard burble halfway through and some fuzz feedback at the end — plus that banjo again. I love banjo.

The only downside is that Berk’s lyrics are sometimes a little too clever for their own good. “Your eyes are two deep pools of mud” is funny,; following it with “Maybe I got stuck/Baby I got stuck” is kind of beating a dead metaphor around the bush. Even if you’re occasionally tuning out the words, though, this is a thoroughly enjoyable album.

I Dub Thee: Shoefolk?
Or Maybe: Birkenstockgaze?

Break to Gobble

Posted on by

Most of your utilitarian bloggers are going to be taking off this week, so things will be a bit quiet around here — though there will still be content of some sort, never fear.

Shortly after the holiday I’m told we may be moving over to our new location at TCJ.com. I’ll pass along more details when they’re available….

Utilitarian Review 11/21/09

Posted on by

On HU

I started this week off with a post on how superdickery has changed through the ages.

Richard wrote about mediocre French mainstream title Spin Angels.

Suat wrote about living with Walt Kelly original art.

Kinukitty wrote about the somewhat squicky yaoi title Two of Hearts.

Vom Marlowe discussed the mediocrity which is X-Men.

And this week’s music download features lots of gospel and thai music.

Last week’s droney mix can still be found at the link.

Utilitarians Elsewhere

Bill and Tom have moved off HU, of course, but I thought I’d mention that they both have great articles in the most recent, and last, Comics Journal, #300, available in a store near you hopefully.

Tom argues that Alan Moore has fallen prey to his own rampant geekery.

Alan Moore is a product of that time, maybe its best. If you want some recycled pop fantasy, I think you’re better off with “Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?” than you are with Star Wars. In fact I’d say his big titles of the 1980s, Watchmen most of all, are the only examples I’ve come across of really fine, substantial works devoted to recycling other-reality entertainment staples. But something went wrong. His Watchmen became Watchmen the movie, which is bad enough. What’s worse is that Moore wrote Lost Girls and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and — well, just about every comic he’s turned out since 1989 or so. If I had to think of reasons to say why Alan Moore was great, I’d have a hard time finding anything from his comics work of the past 20 years. There’s issue 12 of Promethea, but then there’s the rest of Promethea. There’s From Hell, but no, not really. He hasn’t stopped being a genius; only a genius could fail in the way he does, with such energy and ambition, such amazing fireworks. But when I put one of his comics down, I have to remind myself to pick it back up. I think his post-’89 comics are stunted. No matter how big he tries to be, he winds up being small.

Bill, meanwhile, argues for the uniqueness — and probable transience — of the anime/manga invasion of the U.S.

In 2000, you could name the people and companies working to bring manga to the West on one hand, maybe two. Now keeping up with just the English-language commentators has become a full-time job. A few of the writers, like Jason Thompson, Xavier Guilbert and the chaps at Same Hat! Same Hat!, deserve careful reading. Most of the rest barely need a skim. Which is not necessarily a criticism if you have 3,000 people writing about the same book, what are the odds most of them will say the same things?

What happens instead is that they say the same thing in different places. There is no one essential place to read about manga in English. Instead, the trickle of information from 30-plus years ago became a healthy flow. Then, as with everything in the current age, the forces behind it pool into isolated spots. Each one hosts a dialogue or a tribal area or even an intellectual prison; each speaks to a particular subjectivity. One could tip the pen to Postmodernism, were that movement not first passé and second ironic. Manga and its fans have favored bald emotions, putting them closer to New Sincerity, or the Reconstructivists, or whatever the movement after pomo ends up being called. It seems less like forward progress through the history of ideas than an atomization.

Meanwhile, on the Internets, I have an essay about the new Twilight movies over at Reason.

If Edward represents agelessness as a perfect fantasy, Jacob Black represents aging as a horror-film disaster. As you almost certainly know from advance publicity (and if you don’t, here comes the spoiler,) Jacob discovers partway through the film that he’s a werewolf. Lycanthropy, as it turns out, is adolescence on steroids. Jacob loses control of his emotions, grows hair where he shouldn’t, starts hanging out with the wrong crowd, and begins thinking so loudly that all his friends can hear him.

In choosing between Jacob and Edward, Bella is choosing between growing up, with all its dangers and messy unpredictability, and staying a faery child, forever young and lifeless. In the end (here’s another spoiler), without much of a fight, she opts for immortality. Thus, the Twilight series isn’t so much a coming-of-age story as a refusing-to-come-of-age story.

And finally I have a brief review of the new Leona Lewis album over at Metropulse.

Other Links

Matthew Brady pointed me to this unpublished black and white Wonder Woman story with art by Harry Peter and script possibly by William Marston. It’s a treat.

And your Thai luk thung/morlum video of the week, sung by Siriporn Umpaipong.

And what the hey, here’s another one by Ajareeya Bussaba. Adorable caterpillars.

Music For Middle-Brow Snobs: How Far Am I From Thailand?

Posted on by

Gospel, thai, and some other stuff….

1. Five Blind Boys of Mississippi — How Far Am I From Canaan? (Five Blind Boys of Mississippi 1947-1951)
2. Soul Stirrers — I’m a Soldier (Kings of the Gospel Highway)
3. Spirit of Memphis Quartet — Jesus Jesus (Kings of the Gospel Highway)
4. Swan Silvertones — Working on a Building (Kings of the Gospel Highway)
5. Sensational Nightingales — Sinner Man (When Gospel Was Gospel)
6. Marion Williams — Traveling Shoes (When Gospel Was Gospel)
7. Marion Williams — Sit Down Servant (Gospel Soul of Marion Williams)
8. Thomas A. Dorsey with Sallie Martin — I’ll Tell It Wherever I Go (Precious Lord)
9. J. Robert Bradley — The Day Is Past and Gone (All God’s Sons and Daughters)
10. June Christy — Shadow Woman (Ballads for Night People)
11. Pamela Bowden — Ao Kwam Kom Kuen Pai Ting Mae Kong (The Bitterness of Leaving Mae Kong) (Kaew Ta Duang Jai)
12. Pamela Bowden — Nong Chum Wan Nee Pee Chum Wann Na (Kaew Ta Duang Jai)
13.Mangpor Chonticha — Mai Dai Am Chan Rork (I Can’t Get) (Mae Krua Hua Kai)
14. Mangpor Chonticha — Pee Lhuang Yah Luang Nong (Mae Krua Hua Kai)
15. Mazzy Star — Blue Flower (She Hangs Brightly)
16. Gene Loves Jezebel — Dream a Big Dream (VII)
17.Teenage Filmstars — You Mystify Me (Buy Our Record, Support Our Sickness)
18. Teenage Filmstars — Jeepers Creepers (Buy Our Record, Support Our Sickness)

Download How Far Am I From Thailand?

And if you missed it, you can download last week’s droney mix here.

Face Down in the Mainstream: Astonishing X-Men, Grumpy Vom is Grumpy

Posted on by

Astonishing X-Men #30 by Ellis, Bianchi, et al.

I picked this up because the art looked cool. And, you know, the art is cool. The inks are interesting, with washes as well as lines and a very grimy palette of off green and brown and blue. The anatomy is well-done overall. The facial expressions, while not perfect, are realistic. There are some clear artistic patterns like large pouty lips. There are attempts to make the layout interesting by using weapons as layout lines. See?

Pretty, isn’t it?

But it was not enough.

For one thing, the art is very realistic. It’s not picture perfect (blue lion mutants with glasses don’t actually exist), but it’s styled to be real. The artist likes to include things like red lines in the eyes, to show the craziness of the villain or spittle flying to show that people are shouting.

Unfortunately, the craziness comes off more like caaaaaaaarrrraaaaaziness and the spittle just seems sort of gross. The story is just–irritating, and the art could be so awesome, and yet it doesn’t all mesh the way a visually told story should.

Instead of making me look forward to more or compensating, the art just reinforced those parts of the story that pissed me off. The basic plot is that the X-Men have found the source of some fake mutants. Their ex-fellow, Forge, has gone bastshit (as one does) and started to make fake mutants to combat evil warriors from an alternate dimension. They’ve denned Forge in his lair in order to stop him.

And Forge proceeds to act like a cartoon villain, right down to the rolling red eyes and the spit and the dramatic gestures and weird poses. It’s sad. I actually felt bad for the guy.

Especially when they cut off his leg and then laugh about it. I mean, jeez, people. Aren’t you the heroes? Wasn’t this guy your old pal?

(And maybe Forge really is a terrible person worthy of laughter, but really, people. Cutting off someone’s leg and then laughing is just bad form. Tacky! Yes, he had some mutant-dampener in it, but I don’t care. Show a little respect!)

The X-Men battle the fake-o mutants with no trouble. Forge wanted to lure the X-men into dealing with the cause of the interdimensional warriors by mounting an attack via a large cube (as one does). The X-Men tell Forge off, then whack off his leg in response. Which is gratitude for you, I guess.

You’d think, after the random amputation and cracks about how dumb/crazy Forge is to believe that the interdimensional warriors are a Threat To Humanity As We Know It, that they’d all just leave. But no. The blue lion guy has his girlfriend nuke the place from orbit, just to be sure. Which blows up the special cube and therefore through it to the interdimensional warrior scout dudes’ homeworld, which, blue lion now explains, is probably toast.

Well, that’s nice, isn’t it? I mean, clearly Forge was blood-thirsty and crazy for trying to send a couple of mutant warriors through to make sure no one messed with our Earth. So much better to just toss in a great big old world destroying bomb without bothering to make contact.

Gluey Tart: Two of Hearts

Posted on by

two of hearts
Two of Hearts, Kano Miyamoto, 2008, Deux Press

Cat reaction shots. I love gratuitous cat reaction shots.

And you know what else I like? Romantic tales with damaged people who help each other heal. Which is what this story is about. There’s an older guy who suffers from writers block – which is, of course, a manifestation of his inability to have a real relationship. (Of course, everybody suffers from writers block, and of course people who aren’t able to really connect with their deepest emotions write books all the time, but we’ll let that slide because there’s no need to be obstructionist.)

So, what we mostly have here is a sweet little story about two people finding each other. There’s the blocked writer, Haruya, and there’s a magnificently fucked up high school boy, Maki. Maki has OCD and a stutter and crippling shyness and some very difficult personal circumstances, and he’s really quite appealing. Haruya is kind of letting his life drift by but is obviously a pretty good person, as he’s moved to go far out of his way to help Maki when he happens to run across him. Their interactions are pleasantly ambiguous, initially, and their growing relationship is satisfying.

Except. This is another one of those yaoi titles with a bizarre rape scene (or near rape – they get interrupted just before they get to the full monty) that just leaves you scratching your head. It seems to come from a “guys are different” kind of place, but it doesn’t play right. The motivation is extremely sketchy, and no one reacts anything like appropriately. “Oh, sorry I was getting ready to rape your emotionally damaged boyfriend who’s still in high school – Oh, don’t worry about it.” “Sorry my friend tried to rape you; he’s just upset because he’s been in love with me for years and I’ve been ignoring it – Oh, that’s fine, then.”

This weird lack of concern over what should be a seriously traumatizing event is part of what ruins the ending for me. Miyamoto is so determined to make everything heartwarming and sweet and happy that she goes overboard. Everybody is going to be fine, all the problems be damned. I like a dazzlingly romantic ending as much as the next yaoi fan, but this time, the happy-ever-after is cloying. There were some interesting complications, and suddenly everything is – all right. Maki is able to get it on with Haruya and straighten out his life. The rapist is able to help Haruya write that prize-winning novel everyone knew he had in him, and to move on with his life and find someone who loves him. Haruya is able to realize that he loves Maki and to work past his emotional distance, write brilliantly, and love selflessly. Just all of a sudden, like Miyamoto got fed up with the whole thing and decided she needed to wrap this up and move on to the next manga. Which might well have been the case – and I’ve been there, Kano, I really have.

So, is it wrong for me to be disgruntled in the midst of all this comprehensive bliss, just because I find it kind of under-motivated and sudden? I don’t know. There’s a lot to enjoy in this story, and it will not leave you weeping, even if you’re in a state where you’re feeling sorry for yourself and you’re getting overly emotional and sniffly over the whole Jon and Kate Gosselin saga (so brilliantly, ably, and thoroughly covered in Us Magazine). I wouldn’t have bothered to tell you about Two of Hearts if I didn’t think there was something special about it. But – you know. There are problems. Forewarned is forearmed.

Oh, right. The cat. It’s a stray that Haruya takes in and grows to love. Get it? Yes, of course you do. It’s still pretty cute, though.

two of hearts