Mom’s got plans, big plans.

I’ve been watching a lot of slasher movies recently. I really like the Friday the 13th series (I have an essay on the box set coming out soon, hopefully.) This one however…eh. It was okay. I know it’s supposed to be one of the more critically acclaimed slasher films…and the effects are certainly good…but the eighties synth music really irritated me, and the relatively complicated script really showed up the mediocre acting. Also, the characters are overall too likable; there isn’t the tension between wanting them dead and worrying about them that I enjoyed in Friday the 13th. In other words, I think the things that tend to make Nightmare more critically accepted — more complex plotting, less open sadism — are the things that made me like it less.

Not that I disliked it. It was fine. It’s just that Freddy is no Jason.

Just listened to the dvd commentary for Walk Hard. Those guys actually thought they made a funny movie.

I like the stuff he did with Crumb, especially “Walking and Talking,” but everything else I’ve seen  has left me cold. That includes Our Cancer Year and a trade collection of greatest hits. Do people really enjoy his stuff, or is it more that he’s respected as a pioneer?

I have a review of Mo Willems children’s books up on Culture 11 in which I compare his use of motion to that of today’s comic strips. Here’s the obligatory sample paragraph:

Though Willems simple character outlines and neutral backgrounds are obviously derived from animation, the grainy quality of his chalky lines and their inherent feeling of dashed-off imperfection gives the drawings a tactile oomph. That sense of contained movement on a static surface, of personality within the line, is one of the great joys of comic-strip cartooning, and Willems’ mastery of it is, I think, part of the reason his books have been so popular with both kids and parents. For instance, in the Elephant & Piggie book, Today I Will Fly!, Piggie is determined to get herself airborne. Willems illustrates her hapless hopping with energetic thick dotted lines, which trace her tergiversations from right to left across the layout, then back from left to right on the next page — and ultimately, through a short hop and uuuuuuup in a flying leap onto poor Gerald’s much-colonized head. Those dashes are, literally, a physical delight: my son likes nothing more than to trace every single one of them with his finger. If I forget and turn the page before he gets a chance to do so, I’ve got something very like a pigeon tantrum on my hands.

So I was in a comics store today for the first time in a while. LIttle hole in the wall place in Chicago’s Logan Square. We went in because…well, it’s a cold day, we’re trying to find something to do with the little one, and he loves super-heroes — and his parents like comics — seems like a good move, right?

Well, not exactly. My wife found some things she liked (Kabuki, the Yoshitaka Amano illustrated Wolverine-Elektra), and we did get a solidly OK comic for Siah — one of the new super-friends titles, where Bat Mite dresses all the heroes in Bat costumes. It’s cute, if not especially cleverly done. But what the hey, he likes it, it’s not dreadful, what more can you ask.

Unfortunately, the boy also saw a copy of some horror vampire-batman atrocity. For one reason and another, he managed to look at it without us cutting him off. He seemed fine at the time, but, as he said later, “sometimes it’s not scary in the daytime, but then it gets to be night and you’re scared.” And so he was. I just finished calming him down enough to get him to sleep, but I strongly suspect I’ll be in there again at some point in the middle of the night. Lucky me.

Which brings me to super-hero decadence. The back and forth around super-hero decadence in the blogosphere recently seems to be over whether super-heroes should act heroically (Bill Willingham said yes, Steven Grant said maybe not so much, etc.) The argument really seems mostly beside the point to me. The real question is, who is the audience here? Are these characters for kids? Or are they for adults? Is it about funny adventures, goofy plots, and colorful characters? Or is it about sex and horror?

The reason decadent super-heroes can seem so, so wrong isn’t because sex and horror are wrong; it’s because super-heroes are really meant for kids. There aren’t stories where Thomas the Tank Engine turns into a vampire. There aren’t stories where the Snoopy is gang-raped. There aren’t stories where the Cat in the Hat starts ripping people’s arms off. Because, you know, that stuff is for kids, and, aesthetic atrocity aside, you don’t want to fuck up the brand.

Of course, Batman *was* kind of scary initially, before the comics code and the TV show made him more for younger audiences. And different super-hero stories have been initially aimed at different age levels (Marvel obviously a little older). But the point about super-hero decadence — the reason that it is decadent — isn’t the moral ambiguity or that there’s sex or violence — all of which occur in genres that aren’t especially dilapidated. The new James Bond films, for example; sex, violence, moral ambiguity — but that’s fine, because sex, violence, and moral ambiguity fit perfectly well in those stories.

No, what makes super-hero decadence decadent is essentially marketing; their branding is completely incoherent. Super-hero comic are either for kids, or they’re built around a snickering defacement of something that is for kids. It’s thirteen-year olds drawing dicks on Dagwood. It’s not boring and icky because it’s morally complex or evil; it’s boring and icky because it’s dumb and obvious. Of course, when the 13 year olds do it, it’s also kind of funny — but it really loses something when you up the production values and pretend to take it seriously.

Anyway, the result of all of this is that, though I don’t blame the comic-store owner (my job to watch out for my kid) and while I certainly don’t think any permanent damage was done, I’m going to be even more leery now of taking him into a comics store. Which means I’ll be even less likely to spend money in a comics store. Which can’t really be what comics companies want, you wouldn’t think.

Update: Valerie D’orazio linked to me and then connected super-hero decadence to some nut who dressed up as the Joker and stabbed a bunch of kids.

I just want to say…I don’t think that art affects people quite that straightforwardly. I mean, if you’ve got a guy nutty enough to stab kids, you’ve got a guy nutty enough to stab kids; I don’t think it’s Heath Ledger’s fault that he went out and stabbed kids.

I didn’t even like Dark Knight that much, and I thought it’s moral stance was overall dumb. But…well, Charles Manson went off on a song about playground equipment….