Sleepy Hollow: adapted by Kevin Yagher and Andrew Kevin Walker from the Washington Irving short story; directed by Tim Burton; starring Johnny Depp (Ichabod Crane), Christina Ricci (Katrina), Miranda Richardson (Lady Van Tassel), and Christopher Walken (The Horseman) (1999):
Tim Burton's homage to the Hammer horror films of the 1950's and 1960's looks terrific -- it's a triumph of muted cinematography, if nothing else. And after another 13 years of macho heroes, Johnny Depp's perennially frightened Ichabod Crane seems a lot more palatable than he did in 1999. He's another twitchy Depp freakshow, but he's at least plausibly freaky and refreshingly low on testosterone.
The film turns the old Washington Irving tale into a somewhat creaky supernatural detective story without much mystery -- you may figure out who's behind everything in the first 15 minutes or so. And that's OK. It's really a movie about fog and darkness and creepy things.
Burton, as usual, goes too far at a couple of points with the visual effects. An homage to his own Beetlejuice is especially annoying. And the McGuffin is almost laughably banal. However, the cast is terrific, and Christina Ricci is both lovely and, as a heroine, has actual important things to do other than screaming. Recommended.
The Wolverine: written by Mark Bomback and Scott Frank, based on the miniseries by Chris Claremont and Frank Miller; starring Hugh Jackman (Logan), Tao Okamoto (Mariko), Rila Fukushima (Yukio) and Svetlana Khodchenkova (Viper) (2013): As a case study in pitching Hollywood blockbusters to the Asian market, The Wolverine is terrific. Other than Australian Hugh Jackman as Canadian Logan/Wolverine, almost the entire cast is Japanese, and much of the film is set in Japan.
That's in keeping with the Chris Claremont-written, Frank Miller-illustrated 1982 comic-book miniseries that the film draws upon. I think the writers do something smart with that miniseries, which somewhat implausibly inserted an entire Japan-obsessed backstory into Wolverine's history.
Here, while Wolverine has previously been in Japan, he doesn't know much about its culture. I'd argue that makes way more sense, especially given Logan's eternal memory problems. Even if he was an expert once, he isn't any more. This also allows for exposition that isn't delivered, as in the miniseries, by Wolverine's narration.
Other than that cleverness and some nicely staged recreations of moments from the comic, though, this is awfully thin superhero gruel. As it's a set-up for the next X-Men movie, we get a lot of references to the last (and least) of the original three X-Men films. I don't think it's ever a good idea to make anyone think about director Brett Ratner's crappy third X-Men film.
We also get one good mutant, one bad mutant, and one mystery villain in a giant cybernetic suit of armor. Also a really draggy twenty minutes in the middle, characters hiding in the most obvious place available to them, and some inadvertantly hilarious 'footage' of the atomic bombing of Nagasaki, which was apparently accomplished by a bomber flying 1000 feet above the ground at about 100 miles an hour.
Hugh Jackman is good as usual, and improbably ripped -- he looks like all 300 Spartans superimposed upon one another. But his Wolverine has been written as something of a bumbling boob when it comes to fighting strategy and tactics. It's a good thing the villains are so kindly disposed to keeping him alive and filling him in on their plans. Lightly recommended.
Pacific Rim: written by Travis Beacham and Guillermo del Toro; directed by Guillermo del Toro; starring Charlie Hunnam (Raleigh Becket), Idris Elba (Pentecost), Rinko Kikuchi (Mako Mori), Burn Gorman (Gottlieb), Charlie Day (Geiszler), and Ron Perlman (Hannibal Chau) (2013): Pacific Rim is a hoot, an expensive homage to every Japanese movie and cartoon that gave us gigantic, city-destroying monsters and/or giant, man-shaped, world-saving robots and cyborgs. There's even a rocket punch, and monsters that could clearly beat the crap out of Leonard Maltin AND Sydney Poitier. But not Robert Smith!!!
The movie even mostly hangs together as a thought experiment, though it overcomplicates the plot in a couple of ways. The most problematic overcomplication is the movie's premise that humanity has stopped making Jaegers -- the giant human-run robots that are the only effective defense against the monstrous Kaiju that periodically come striding out of a dimensional rift in the Pacific Ocean floor -- and instead turned to building a giant, and soon-to-be-proven useless, wall around the Pacific (!!!!!!!!). It would have been a lot simpler to note that the defense program is temporaily short on Jaegers due to the increase in period and frequency of Kaiju attacks, and move on.
Other than that, though, the movie is a lot of fun, with an emphasis on teamwork over individuality, and a multi-national cast that may have hindered its box-office performance in the United States. Either that, or they should have just titled it Transformers: Pacific Rim, even though the robots don't actually transform.
The main cast of Charlie Hunnam, Rinko Kikuchi, and Idris Elba is tremendously likeable; the twitchy scientists played by Burn Gorman and Charlie Day are intermittently amusing and ultimately heroic; the Kaiju organlegger played by Ron Perlman is a welcome jolt of energy. The robots look great, as do the Kaiju, though I wish the filmmakers had spent a bit more on visual effects and given us one extended Jaeger vs. Kaiju battle staged entirely in the day-time. The murkiness of the night battles and the undersea battles sometimes gets a bit annoying.
The best Kaiju sequence, as if from a postmodern fairytale, involves one of the gargantuan monsters -- this one vaguely crab-like -- chasing a little girl through the streets of Tokyo. It's scary and funny, and better than pretty much any visual effects sequence from any other blockbuster this summer. Highly recommended.
Death Drives a Semi by Edo van Belkom, containing the following stories: The Rug; But Somebody's Got to Do It; Death Drives a Semi; The Basement; Mother and Child; Mark of the Beast; Scream String; S.P.S.; The Cold; Blood Count; Ice Bridge; No Kids Allowed; The Piano Player Has No Fingers; And Injustice for Some; Roadkill; Lip-O-Suction; Afterlife; Family Ties; Rat Food (with David Nickle); and Baseball Memories (Collected 1998): Prolific Canadian writer Edo van Belkom's first collection of short stories is terrific, a fine assortment of horror stories from the first ten years of his writing career.
Robert Sawyer's introduction strains a bit in its attempt to compare van Belkom to too many disparate writers. The range of stories here, in terms of style and approach, probably most resembles the early stories of Richard Matheson, or Robert Bloch after his initial Lovecraftian pastiche stage, or even New England horror writer Joseph Payne Brennan. Van Belkom is very much plot-oriented, and very much a writer in the plain style favoured by so many genre authors.
Van Belkom has a droll, black sense of humour that suits some of the stories, and his attempts to breathe new life (or unlife) into tired horror tropes such as the Vampire reflect that sense-of-humour, as we encounter vampires in the professional wrestling circuit and in the weight-reduction business. While many of the stories are gruesomely graphic, others are more traditional suspense ("Ice Bridge"), science fiction ("S.P.S."), or plain-style Bradburiana ("The Basement") with a touch of the gentler Twilight Zone episodes.
Some stories would make fine tales in the old E.C. horror comics of the 1950's, centered as they are around ironic supernatural revenge ("The Rug", "Roadkill"). Three of the best stories -- "The Rug," "The Basement," and the award-winning "Rat Food" -- sympathetically portray the plight of the elderly. "Rat Food" is one of those horror stories that may not be horror at all: I guess it depends on one's tolerance for rats crawling all over one's body. In summation, a collection that any serious reader of horror fiction really should pick up. Highly recommended.
The Wyrm by Stephen Laws (1987): Page-turner of a horror novel in which a terrible Something (the eponymous "Wyrm") escapes from centuries of imprisonment to takes it vengeance on the small Northern English bordertown whose residents defeated it in the early 17th century.
While The Wyrm doesn't have the depth or complexity of similar novels of the 1980's that include Stephen King's It and Ramsey Campbell's The Hungry Moon, the novel nonetheless kept me reading quickly through to the end. The characters are sympathetic if a bit flatly drawn at times.
The Wyrm itself is an interesting creation, though as with other such super-monsters (such as Pennywise in It), it talks too much and the novel reveals too many of its thoughts, making it less terrifying than a more silent creature might have been. Still, a worthwhile light read. Recommended.
Savage Dragon Archives Volume 2, written and illustrated by Erik Larsen (Collected 2007): Fun collection of superhero cop Dragon's mid-1990's adventures trying to keep Chicago and the world safe from a wide variety of supervillains and superfreaks. Creator/writer/artist Larsen had really become adept at drawing interesting superhero battles by this time in his career, and often opens up the action into one- and two-page spreads to good effect.
That, and there are a lot of pictures of women with enormous breasts tipped with enormous erect nipples.
The series also more confidently moves into realms of homage and parody this time around, as Larsen riffs on Jack Kirby's New Gods, superhero weddings, and the Mighty Thor. There are also crossovers galore, as Savage Dragon teams up with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Hellboy, and fights off the Martians of Mars Attacks! Recommended.
More Weird Tales edited by Peter Haining (Collected 1975) containing the following stories, poems, and essays:
The Valley Was Still (1939) by Manly Wade Wellman; A Weird Prophecy [It Happened to Me] by Ken Gary; Winter Night [It Happened to Me] by Alice Olsen; San Francisco [It Happened to Me] (1940) by Caroline Evans; Heart of Atlantan (1940) by Nictzin Dyalhis; The Phantom Slayer (1942) by Fritz Leiber; The Beasts of Barsac (1944) by Robert Bloch; Bang! You're Dead! (1944) by Ray Bradbury; Cellmate (1947) by Theodore Sturgeon; The Familiars by H. P. Lovecraft; The Pigeon-Flyers (1943) by H. P. Lovecraft; Roman Remains (1948) by Algernon Blackwood; Displaced Person (1948) by Eric Frank Russell; To the Chimera (1924) by Clark Ashton Smith; From the Vasty Deep (1949) by H. Russell Wakefield; The Shot-Tower Ghost (1949) by Mary Elizabeth Counselman; Take the Z-Train (1950) by Allison V. Harding; The Little Red Owl (1951) by Margaret St. Clair; Ooze (1923) by Anthony M. Rud.
Peter Haining probably edited about a thousand anthologies in his lifetime. This, the second half of a hardcover collecting stories from pulp magazine Weird Tales' first iteration, which ran from 1923 to the early 1950's, is a very good one.
Weird Tales was the first true American pulp magazine devoted to fantasy, horror, and science fiction. Its heyday was the 1920's and early 1930's, but it still offered a viable market for short-story writers right up until its death during The Great Dying of the pulps in the late 1940's and early 1950's.
Haining does a nice job of finding stories from female writers, of which Weird Tales had more than a few, and of offering reprints of some of the non-fiction features of the magazine (It Happened to Me and the letters column The Eyrie), along with some decent poems from writers such as H.P. Lovecraft, Clark Ashton Smith (who really was a good poet), and Conan creator Robert E. Howard.
Haining also seemed to have an eye on what had been collected before, as the Fritz Leiber, Theodore Sturgeon, Robert Bloch, and Ray Bradbury selections are relatively little-known. Leiber's "The Phantom Slayer" is the strongest from one of those four stalwarts, an urban nightmare that characterizes Leiber's reimagining of the horror genre in the 1940's as something set in urban landscapes bleak and otherwise, where people try and sometimes fail to connect with one another.
Among the lesser known writers, the improbably named Nictzin Dyalhis offers an enjoyable lost-world story much in the vein of Clark Ashton Smith and A. Merrit. Margaret St. Clair, a fairly well-known genre author of the 1940's and 1950's, impresses with the childhood fantasy nightmare "The Little Red Owl," which essentially pits a psychopathic uncle against a fictional character. The anthology finishes with a story from the first issue of Weird Tales, "Ooze," a fun story of amoebas gone wrong. Or is that amobae? Recommended.
Superman: Secret Identity: written by Kurt Busiek; illustrated by Stuart Immonen (2004): Busiek takes a decidely Meta concept inspired by a Superman comic book of the 1980's and extrapolates it into a moving tale about the Man of Steel. In a weird way, OUR Man of Steel.
The Superman team-up series DC Comics Presents offered an odd story towards the end of its run in the 1980's. In it, the Superman of DC's main Earth, Earth-1, met the Superboy of Earth-Prime. But the thing was, Earth-Prime was, in DC's multiverse, 'our' Earth, one without superheroes, one upon which all of DC's heroes were simply characters in comic books. That included Superboy and Superman. So Superboy of Earth-Prime found himself with superpowers on an Earth where he was already a fictional character.
Borges, eat your heart out!
Busiek takes this initial concept and, not in a situation to write an ongoing, in-continuity series about Superboy-Prime, instead writes a non-continuity story that follows a Superboy from a world where he's a fictional character through the course of the super-powered portion of his lifetime.
This Superboy has been teased for years because his parents thought it would be cool to name a male baby with the last name Kent who hails from a small town in Kansas (Pickettsville, not Smallville)...Clark. And one night, when he's 13, Clark suddenly wakes up with a pretty fair approximation of all of Superman's powers.
What follows is a really charming story which allows Busiek to explore the aging of a superhero. Most 'adult' superhero books explore either the beginning or the end of their hero's career. Busiek's best work lies here in exploring the middle -- adulthood, parenthood, grandparenthood. His Superman, who consciously adopts the classic costume in part because it means people who see him won't be believed, operates in secrecy, leery of a U.S. government that apparently wants to dissect him.
But as a fundamentally decent person, Clark continues to help people, despite the risk of being followed home. His powers aren't great enough to always protect him from being knocked unconscious, but he keeps going anyway. And perhaps the government will eventually decide that he's not a threat -- or develop superheroes of its own.
Busiek and artists Immonen, who's never done better work than he does here, do a lovely job of pointing out the ways in which it would be great to be Superman, both through the soaring, two-page vistas that periodically appear to show the world as Superman sees it, and through the little things that he takes for normal, such as being able to go to any restaurant in the world whenever he wants to. It's a great take on Superman, wonderfully told, with expressive character work by Immonen. Recommended.
