1.) One of my internet personas is delusional housewife Martha Smith, previously of the Wacky Smith Family Blog, and she has written something new. A letter to Justin Bieber asking him to attend her daughter’s birthday party. You should read it, for the lub of beiber!!!1!!!
2.) I am currently in Los Angeles doing some stand up shows, including one that I organized myself featuring a mix of San Francisco comedians and Los Angeles comedians. If you are in the area, please attend! Public facebook event here: https://www.facebook.com/events/369019786493759/
Also, the flyer:
3.) Also, I try really hard to be good at Twitter.
4.) More also, tomorrow another issue of my column on Comics Bulletin, Kryptonite Got You Down, will be up. So stay tuned for that!! (current link is to the last published article)
Last but not least…
yet ANOTHER preview to the most interesting zine in the world, Neuropuddy. I swear to Jeebus this thing is getting printed SOON and you’re all going to want a copy.
I did the words, and the amazing artwork is by Sarah Silva.
My review is up on the always wonderful, Comics Bulletin!
A new Peter Bagge comic means one very excited me. The first issue of Reset had me expecting something totally different, yet still met a lot of my expectations. That makes sense, right? Okay, well, fine — I’ll explain. You see, from my interview with Bagge I gathered that this would be a comic about a man reliving his life, and I assumed it would go the way most “let’s go back in time” plots go, where the main character, Guy Krause (washed up comedian with an anger problem) would actually be able to alter his past, therefore changing his present. Not the case. At least that’s not what seems to be going on so far…
Krause clearly has an anger problem. We meet him in the middle of a DUI class as the only guy in there that was arrested for road rage. We instantly get that Peter Bagge cynical, sarcastic nature that I love. Bagge is the master of making stories about people who kind of suck, but for some reason we still love them, and are able to relate to them on an almost scary level (well, at least in my case). Krause is obviously stubborn, but I like his anti-Hollywood attitude — for instance, resisting the pressure to have his own reality show which (he is told) is a great way to establish himself as a has=been celebrity and still get work.
It’s at this DUI class that Krause is approached by Angela Minor, who I’m pretty sure is going to serve as a love interest of some sort, but also is the woman who convinces Krause to participate in her research project. She offers him money to relive every moment of his past, starting from his high school graduation. The reason for why this project exists is still not clear. Krause has his assumptions, but doesn’t get a definitive answer.
Bagge’s approach to creating a time machine is much more akin to a video game than it is to say, a flux capacitor. Krause sees his life through a virtual reality helmet, and the scene he starts off with is an evidently traumatic one, and Krause’s different attempts at handling it over and over again (thanks to a handy “reset” button) are pretty funny.
The overall look of the comic is classic Bagge: black and white art, exaggerated body shapes, movements and facial expressions, with classic Bagge lettering. Occasionally Bagge will draw panels that are quite literally black and white, where character’s bodies are inked completely in black, stripped of their defining features, against an empty white background. It’s as if, for a brief instance, they are transported to another place and time, but then the scene quickly returns to normal.
Reset #1 is a great first issue that doesn’t necessarily end on a cliffhanger but definitely left me wanting more. I won’t say it’s more promising than his other (earlier) works because it’s not — at least not right now. I definitely sense its potential, though. You should read it for yourself; you’ll see what I mean.
Original link here.
Much to her delight, Alison Stevenson recently got to interview the legend himself, Peter Bagge. The man who gave us classics such as Hate, Neat Stuff, and Apocalypse Nerd is coming out with a new series for Dark Horse titled Reset. Bagge and Alison exchanged some emails and got to talk about his new project, along with a few other things (couldn’t help touching a tad bit on politics). Reset#1 is set to hit stores on April 18, 2012. You can pre-order the first issue through TFAW.com.
Alison Stevenson for Comics Bulletin: So, Reset is essentially about a middle-aged, washed-up comedian who gets the opportunity to relive his life. What’s this character’s name and is he based on anyone in particular — famous or otherwise?
Peter Bagge: I named him Guy Krause — as generic and ethnically ambiguous a name as I could think of. Well, “Krause” is a German name, but how many German stand-up comics can one think of? And that was the point. I didn’t want anyone to associate him with any actual person.
He’s basically a former C- or D-lister who was starting to get regular roles in Hollywood movies when his life and career took a hit. I also left it vague what kind of comic he was as well. A “smart” hipster? A lowbrow crowd pleaser? We never find out because it doesn’t matter, as far as this story is concerned.
CB: Alright, sounds pretty interesting. As a comedian myself, I’m also curious as to why you chose to give him this line of work. Is there something to be said about comedy as a profession in all this?
Bagge: I chose that profession for the same reason the characters in my story chose him to take part in their experiment: they needed someone they could gather a lot of info on, i.e, a celebrity of some sort. Plus, a comic by nature reveals a lot of himself or herself in their work. I also was going for the “sad clown” element here — a professional funny guy who’s stuck in a tragic situation.
CB: I know from your previous character creations (Buddy Bradley and Studs Kirby being my personal favorites) that there is a poignant bitterness, or cynicism to them. Is this comic actor similar in that sense? Are you using him to critique anything in particular like, say, the entertainment industry?
Bagge: Yes to all of the above, though none of that was the main point of the story.
CB: Alright, well this sort of brings me to wanting to talk politics with you, only because I’ve read in other interviews that your political views are often misunderstood by the media. Is this an accurate assessment? Perhaps you can describe to us exactly what your philosophy is.
Bagge: I’m a libertarian, which is a political philosophy with a very simple dictionary definition. Yet many people fixate on the aspects of libertarianism they disagree with, and that becomes what defines it to them — and defines me to them, by extension. That’s always the source of the distortions and misunderstandings I think you’re referring to.
CB: Okay, so is Reset political in this sense, or are you trying to avoid people thinking that?
Bagge: There are certain aspects to the story that reflect my politics, though it’s not central to the story at all.
CB: Can you describe how politics have affected your work throughout your career? Do you feel uncomfortable over the importance people place in your political views?
Bagge: The only overtly political work I’ve done is for Reason magazine. My political views aren’t at all essential to my fictional work, though. I’m not aware of it causing me any problems. Not that I’m aware of, anyway! So no, I’m not uncomfortable with it.
CB: Alright, let’s get back to Reset then. How do things get complicated for Guy? Can you reveal any of the things he’s been through, or some reasons why his life ends up the way it is?
Bagge: He’s actually the only character in the story who isn’t conflicted about why he’s taking part in this project. He needs the money. And yes, he’s full of regrets, but that’s no secret either. It’s why he was asked. However, all the characters around him are very much at cross-purposes with each other, and none of them know exactly what they’re doing either. Guy is held captive by a bunch of two-faced incompetents, basically. Needless to say, this is the main source of the complications!
CB: Okay I see. I have to say I’m really digging this concept. It makes me wonder if I would do something similar if I had the chance. If you could “redo” any incident in your life would you want to?
Bagge: I actually couldn’t name one particular incident, which is good, since I never was responsible for a horrific tragedy (knock wood)! But I, of course, fantasize about reliving my life knowing what I know now, which is what first inspired my story. Ironically, it’s when I sat down and started writing out such a scenario that I quickly realized that to do so would only create new problems and situations. It’s the no-win reality to this common fantasy!
CB: Good point. Well I can’t leave the conversation without asking this. Who are you inspired by artistically?
Bagge: As a kid: the Sunday funnies, especially Peanuts. Later Mad, National Lampoon, and eventually underground comics — especially the work of R. Crumb. I’ve also been very inspired by many of my generational peers, particularly Dan Clowes and the Hernandez Brothers.
CB: All wonderful artists! Thank you again for taking the time to answer my questions.
I recently got the chance to do an online interview with Rick Trembles, creator of Motion Picture Purgatory, which combines drawing comics with reviewing films. UK publisher FAB press has compiled the comics into two volumes. The first was released in 2004, and the second in 2009. You can order the first volume through Trembles’ website, www.snubdom.com, and the second through FAB at,www.fabpress.com.
I discovered Trembles, and Motion Picture Purgatory when I first heard the music of first-wave Montreal punk band The Electric Vomit, which he was a member of. Trembles is still an avid musician, as well as artist and filmmaker.
Alison Stevenson: When did Motion Picture Purgatory officially start? Also, what inspired it?
Rick Trembles: Motion Picture Purgatory actually started in 1985 with the inception of the Montreal Mirror, one of the city’s first alternative weeklies. I was known for my “post-punk” band and a likeminded confrontational fanzine I’d just published that concentrated on local acts and comics called Sugar Diet Magazine, and I’d been involved in some home-grown underground films. So when I started submitting illustrated horror movie reviews to the Mirror in cartoon format, they were initially well received, but by the tail end of the slasher movie craze, a mid-80’s Slumber Party Massacre critique of mine was outright rejected, deemed (in their words) “sexist, misogynistic and derogatory, portraying an unprogressive attitude prevalent in society perpetrating reactionary motives towards sensitive issues.” Ironically, feminist author Rita Mae Brown had written the film’s screenplay.
I had fun addressing their complaints in a subsequent installment, but later, when I attempted to illustrate how children’s film The Garbage Pail Kids Movie curiously and inappropriately overemphasized a starlet’s “ASS-ets,” The Mirror had the audacity to print it slapped with a “censored” banner over the allegedly offensive (fully, albeit scantily, clothed) body parts without my consent. Whose side were they on, anyway? This confounded me to no end, turning me a touch defiant.
The last straw came when I handed in my review of a Lydia Lunch spoken word show I attended where I had the pleasure of rollicking backstage with the militantly feminist underground musician. A long-time taboo-obliterating prodder of social mores herself, she explained to me how her ultimate special-effects film fantasy would be to have “a six-year-old boy gobbling [her] cunt, spurting maggot-inducing impregnation splinters.” Her wish was my command, but much to the Mirror’s apparent dismay, I chose the more sensibly budgeted avenue of publishable cartoon ink on paper over film. Anticipating opposition by now, I adorned the borders of said strip with book-burning topless women (nipples imposed upon with censorship banners) brandishing “censored by the Mirror” rubber stamps at the ready, and “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” monkeys egging them on. Surprise, surprise! Not only did they refuse to print it, but they permanently relieved me of my duties. By the time new Mirror editor Alistair Sutherland picked Motion Picture Purgatory back up a decade later, temperaments at the paper had mysteriously completely flip-flopped and I’ve been allowed unprecedented freedom ever since.
Stevenson: Oh wow. I had no idea there could be censorship issues to that degree with an alternative publication. Also, that’s awesome to hear about Lydia’s special effects fantasy. Did you completely stop publishing MPP, then, for those ten years?
Stevenson: Okay, I see. Moving on, your art is extremely unique, especially when it comes to your depiction of the human body. Any formal training, or are you self-taught?
Trembles: My father used to draw Canadian anti-Nazi war comic books for a living in the forties during WWII and was always a fan of early comics, so, over the years, he picked up some anthologies that featured reprints of American newspaper comics from the early 20th century. I was weaned on that stuff. The still relatively new medium of comics was still being somewhat experimented with back then, and the art often looked deceptively crude as if anybody could do it. That encouraged me as a kid to try my hand at it, not to mention the fact that my father never frowned on the notion of drawing comics.
Stevenson: That’s great! Could you go into some detail over why you make this your particular style?
Trembles: I picked up on the fact that a lot of early underground cartoonists were influenced by the same stuff, and that helped inspire me even further, especially as I was reaching my teens. Racier, more controversial material appealed to me. Later, with the advent of cheap photocopies, DIY publishing and punk ‘zines, occupational hazards such as bad printing quality and size reduction forced me to use consistent, easy to reproduce lines without getting too ambitious with the shading. I also got to know the limitations of my drawing abilities over the years, so I concentrate on what I can get away with. I consider my characters no more than elaborate stick figures I can shape and bend for my purposes. Limited “rubber hose” animation of the 20’s and 30’s (like the early Fleisher Brothers cartoons) and the “spaghetti and meatballs” school of cartooning (like Basil Wolverton’s critters) were also a big influence.
Stevenson: How do you choose what films to draw/write about? I’m thinking especially of the repertory films, which range from Mean Streets to The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini.
Trembles: I have complete freedom, but the Montreal Mirror likes me to choose first-run mainstream releases once in a while to make it more “relevant.” I don’t mind, because current films are usually so bad it makes my job easier. Ripping stuff apart is like a vacation compared to yammering incessantly about something I really like and trying to turn people on to it, because I tend to overwrite in those situations, which means lots of painful editing down the road. But I’m more drawn to obscure oddball stuff. Especially films that make you go, “How on EARTH did that ever get made?”
Stevenson: Ha, I know exactly what you mean. What I personally love best about the film summaries is how they’re able to say a lot in such a short amount of space. Plus, they hit the funny bone. One of my favorite strips is your take on Blank Generation. You cover the film and feature snippets of Richard Hell’s commentary on the film years later. Really creative and, again, funny. How long does it take for you to plan exactly what you’re going to say about each individual film?
Trembles: It depends on the film or how I’m feeling that day. I barely write a word for some reviews. For others, I’ve had to draw the strip on larger-than-usual-sized paper to fit all the letters in. Neither of these things necessarily reflect whether it was a bad review or a good one. Ideally, I like to watch the film and take my notes on it one day, then write my script the next day, then sleep on what I’ve written so I can review my words with fresh eyes on the third day, make adjustments if need be, and then draw it all. But sometimes I actually have to cram everything into one day which is complete torture. I’m a total write-off the following day when that happens; it’s like I have a hangover. Don’t even bother calling, I won’t pick up.
In the case of Blank Generation, since I was reviewing a DVD package, I made a running gag out of Richard Hell’s juicy quotes from the DVD extras where he keeps hilariously and relentlessly dissing the film he starred in. He’s so good at it that it isn’t even detrimental to the movie. I tried to counter his criticisms by contradicting him and defending why I liked or thought some of the elements he hated worked. The punch line was how Hell’s very description of the film as “abysmal” ironically fit the notion of “blankness” that I thought was the whole point of the “generation” in question. I named the heading for the strip “Wet Blanket Generator” as a play on words with the title of the film, as if to call Hell a party pooper. Mostly, I was being playful, because you could read volumes into that movie and what Hell was saying about it — and he’s so canonized, I’m sure people already have — but sometimes, with my strip, laugh-getting will trump sober analysis. Gimme a break; it’s a comic strip after all, isn’t it? As incomical? Punchline is king, no matter how anticlimactic.
Stevenson: Definitely true. Now, going beyond Motion Picture Purgatory (although this is also something you’ve had to deal with on MPP), the music video for your band American Devices, “Decensortized,” features your animation. Pretty graphic stuff, often filled with “shocking” scenes of sexual abuse and violence. I’d love if you can delve into your personal beliefs around art being used in such a manner. I think back to movements such as Cinema of Transgression, No Wave, and, more obviously, punk rock. What, in your opinion, is the purpose behind creating content that is so “indecent?”
Trembles: Decades ago, even a few years before the first time I started drawing for the Mirror, I was obsessed with David Cronenberg’s Videodrome to the point where it started influencing my work. “The Clockwork Orange of the 80’s,” Andy Warhol called it. This metamorphosis-laden 1982 horror flick about brainwashing people using interactive S&M imagery really lodged itself into my noggin.
Cronenberg wanted to challenge the censors that were constantly breathing down his neck over the sex and violence of his previous films, and Videodrome was his satirical take on what it would be like if what the censors were saying would happen to you if you watched too much sex and violence actually did happen. “Censors tend to do only what psychotics do: they confuse reality with illusion,” he once said. I began to create a persona for myself as a Videodrome-like guinea pig, deliberately immersing my cartoon alter ego into increasingly compromising situations that reflected actual events in my life. The more my comix kept getting me in trouble, the more I wanted to blur the distinctions between fantasy and reality in disconcerting ways that would have people question whether or not my own work was having damaging effects on me just like in Cronenberg’s film. Lenny Bruce syndrome, except I was the only one interested. Complete self-absorption, which, as far as I was concerned, only made things that much more satisfyingly similar to Videodrome.
So during that ten year period between the two phases of the Montreal Mirror, I kept active trying to publish the most excessive, extreme, sexually and violently explicit tableaus I could come up with to signify how happy I was wallowing in my own murk trying to blur the distinctions between fantasy and reality, the culmination of which spawned my God’s Cocksuckers series. I then turned that into a short animated film. Also. by 1989, my band the American Devices titled their first LP release “Decensortized” to commemorate the jovial temperament of the times, and I also made a film about that. I followed it with an XXX animated film about my pathetic sexual history that got me smeared in the local evening TV news. It’s all one big navel-gazing, cross-pollinating meta-muddle of mediums. At least when I have to write about other people’s self-indulgent fiascos in Motion Picture Purgatory, I’m not stewing in my own stink for a couple of hours. The irony of all ironies is how my blasphemes pale more and more in comparison to most of the movies I have to review these days.
Stevenson: Any other upcoming projects or events you’d like readers to know about? I know you’ve been in films and still do music.
Trembles: I’m currently writing a satirical unauthorized autobiography and a how-not-to textbook about the creative process behind drawing comix and writing songs. I also continue to play in my 32-year-old post-punk band the American Devices, and I play guitar for a new band, Sacral Nerves. You can follow up on all these things as they evolve, and also find all my Motion Picture Purgatoriesupdated weekly at my website, snubdom.com. You can get The American Devices songs on iTunes at:
You probably just saw the teaser trailer for the Avengers movie. Pretty cool, right? Well, here are 10 non-superhero comic books that we’d like to see in movie form.
Sorry, Blankets would probably make a terribly cloying movie, and Lost at Sea would be like Choke to the Fight Club that is Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.
by Danny Djeljosevic
Here’s the pitch: an axe-toting Scottish dwarf and a gun-toting bald guy fight monsters like Peter Jackson mainlined some John Woo and depleted the entire economy of a small country. It’s a very funny comic, and full of both skulls and the kicking of them. The use of a firearm in a strictly D&D setting is a highlight, among many other things.
And here’s how we make it: we all pool together a big pile of money a la the one Heath Ledger sets on fire in The Dark Knight and pay Weta to retroactively insert the big guy and the little guy into only the fight scenes of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and cut it all down to 90 minutes. Or get someone to make a CG animated adventure.
Either way, skulls will get kicked.
by Nick Hanover
In my mind, The Luna Brothers’ Girls is the perfect vehicle for David Cronenberg’s return to the body horror that made him famous, complete with ample room for the director to explore the small town settings and questionable loyalties that have dominated his latter day works. A truly horrifying work that makes great use of influences like Stephen King (whose Under the Dome shares some similarities) and George Romero,Girls is the embodiment of small town values coming up against unfiltered sexuality, featuring alien invaders who prey on male desire.
While deeply symbolic, Girls is nonetheless as tense and efficient as the best horror films and under the direction of a master like Cronenberg both those qualities could truly shine, with the director’s talent for distorting sexual iconography into terrifying imagery particularly well suited to an adaptation of the series.
Failing that, though, I’m sure James Gunn would love a shot at making a more erotic variant of Slither.
8. Studs Kirby
by Alison Stevenson
Peter Bagge’s Hate is legendary, but I have a special place in my heart for Studs Kirby. He’s just so cool. What’s not awesome about a failed, middle-aged loser who goes from calm to furious in about .04 seconds and uses that bitter and pissy attitude of his to be a no-bullshit radio host? He lives the dream! A Studs Kirby movie would be pretty funny, and quite dark. Lots of cursing, beer and, yeah, a strong hatred for everything.
7. Kill Your Boyfriend
by Danny Djeljosevic
When was the last time the kids got pissed off and Mom and Dad were worried? I feel like we haven’t had a proper decent controversy about the social responsibilities of popular art in a while, and Harry Potter being a devil-worshipper doesn’t count. Nor does whatever the fuck Twilight is supposed to be.
Let’s get an adaptation of Kill Your Boyfriend happening. The short graphic novel by Grant Morrison and Phillip Bond is the story of a bored, unassuming teenager who meets a mysterious older boy who talks her into shooting her pizza-faced boyfriend and then into going on a crime spree. Parents will hate it! Fox News will spend countless hours unintentionally promoting it by condemning it!
But the kids’ll love it. Not just for the Natural Born Killers-ness of the thing (but hardly as sadistic), but for the way it speaks to teenage suburban ennui and identity engineering. At an age where you’re trying to figure out what you want to be, the story of a teenage girl deciding she wants to try being a badass for a little bit will fuck shit up. And it’s really funny — like darkly hilarious, slowly killing your husband with rat poison kind of funny. The best kind of funny.
And it doesn’t necessarily have to be British. Shit’s universal.
6. I Kill Giants
by Nick Hanover
Continuing the trend of just going ahead and picking directors for these fantasy adaptations, is there anyone better suited to adapting Joe Kelly and J.M. Ken Niimura’s masterpiece I Kill Giants than Terry Gilliam? Think of it this way: Gilliam has tried and failed to get his Don Quixote project off the ground, but in I Kill Giants Gilliam might just have the perfect replacement.
Concerning Gilliam’s favorite subject, the line between fantasy and reality, I Kill Giants is Don Quixote if he were a troubled little girl rather than a lost, lonely hero. On top of that is the series’ exploration of how grief can push you over the edge, plus, well, all those giants. Kelly and Niimura made a child’s imagination deadly real with their series and only a mad genius like Terry Gilliam could bring that off the page and onto the screen.
5. High Soft Lisp
by Alison Stevenson
Out of all the 6,000 characters in Love and Rockets, Fritz is a personal favorite. Though she’s highly sexualized, she’s also intelligent, vulnerable and has a nerdiness to her that would overall make for a great presence on screen. This graphic novel in particular has a good amount of melodrama (the enjoyable kind), varying character perspectives and lots of good old fashioned BDSM. Who wouldn’t want to see that?
4. David Boring
by Danny Djeljosevic
I love Daniel Clowes, but David Boring is the only Clowes book I’d save in a fire, provided this hypothetical fire was happening at a Daniel Clowes factory and not, say, in an apartment where I have a cat. By the way, the cat is hypothetical, too.
David Boring is about, among a few things, the eponymous dweeb’s attempts to obtain the perfect woman, his attempts to get to know his absent father through superhero comics he’s created and an apocalypse scenario that results in a handful of people (Boring included) living in a house on an island. Considering that Clowes made David Boring in the late ’90s installments of Eightball (the collected version came out in 2000), he had to have been working on at least some of it in tandem with his screenplay for Ghost World. Divided into three acts, complete with a credits sequence at the end and even lobby card mockups but with a paradoxical cover description (“A Comic Book by Daniel Clowes”), Clowes seems to be incorporating screenwriting structure into his comic work, while simultaneously daring filmmakers to even try adapting something he made to specifically be a comic.
Which I’d love to see — to see how an appropriately ambitious filmmaker approaches a work that, while courting cinematic language, is decidedly a graphic sequential narrative (“comic book” seemed a bit too pejorative). It would be brilliant if done properly, but the right kind of fuck-up could be just as interesting.
3. Louis Riel
by Nick Hanover
Back in 2004, when Bookslut covered Chester Brown’s magnum opus Louis Riel, reviewer Karin L. Cross described the work as lying “somewhere between the rigours of the scholarly biography and the accessibility of the movie biopic.” Seven years later, no one has yet fulfilled the promise of that statement, which is a pity when you consider both how interesting Louis Riel’s story is and how well structured a portrayal Chester Brown crafted.
Jumping between the most important stages of Louis Riel’s life, Chester Brown may not follow the exact truth of the history but he does offer incredible perspective, particularly in regards to Riel’s self-proclaimed prophet status and how that belief would lead to both his eventual undoing and the downfall of the Metis rebellion he came to lead. Riel may not be a household name outside of Canada, but his revolutionary spirit and troubled mental state would undoubtedly be cinematic gold in the proper hands.
by Alison Stevenson
Shortcomings has a pretty strong “indie romantic comedy” vibe and it also touches a lot of issues concerning assimilation, ethnic self-hatred (I thought only us Jews did that, but I guess I was wrong), and tension between cultures.
It’s hard to find romance movies that are not just about love, but are also smart and thought provoking. Shortcomings could definitely be that film.
1. Black Hole
Alison Stevenson: Horny suburban teens living in mid-’70s Seattle start contracting an STD that turns them into mutants. That’s pretty cool. This film could be like Dazed and Confused meets The Elephant Man. If it’s done right, the awesome tails, horns, bubbling skin and other deformities Charles Burns illustrates can be brought to life. I’m surprised we haven’t had a Black Hole movie yet. Its been in talks for years, the screenplay has been written, and at one point David Fincher was attached to direct it but for some reason it just hasn’t got the green light.
Nick Hanover: There have been rumblings for some time that Charles Burns’ phenomenal, defining work Black Hole would be coming to a screen of one sort or another. Briefly attached to figures like Fincher and Alexandre Aja, with a script penned by none other than Neil Gaiman and Roger Avary, Black Hole is quite possibly the most star-studded bit of comic book movie vaporware that ever was.
Black Hole may not seem like the kind of work that would attract someone like Fincher, but the work is also an exploration of the alienation of adolescence, a universal theme that’s as appealing to those living through that experience as to those who have survived it. Burns’ stunning linework may not be replicable in film but the artists’ keen use of sexualized symbols and expert framing is exactly the kind of thing the best cinematographers aim for and its split focus on a seemingly disconnected group of characters is especially cinematic.
Danny Djeljosevic: If Gaiman and Avary’s last collabo was any indication, Black Hole will come out around 2018 as an underrated (but pretty great) mo-capped 3D extravaganza directed by Robert Zemeckis.
Here’s a (NSFW, duh) short film version of Black Hole by Rupert Sanders. It has its moments.
Okay so I haven’t been writing as much as I would like these days but soon I will be posting a story depending on if it gets chosen for a literary group based in SF, and I also want to let you guys know that I am collaborating with some awesome artists on a ‘zine project. It’s a collection of comics all with angry, riot grrrl, type protagonists and it’s going to kick major ass. I promise.
Artists working on this project with me are Derk Bramer, Brian Trott, Sarah Silva, Jared Law, and Danny Djeljosevic. Expect it out in February!
I’m really loving Animal Man (DCs New 52), The Strange Talent of Luther Strode, and Noah Van Sciver’s Blammo (i just read #7)
Also, i’ve been doing that Netflix Instant Watch thing really well and most recently watched The Stuff.
Oh yeah! I was at a show in Oakland last night and fell in love with this cool SF band, T.I.T.S these ladies can really harmonize and shredddd