Author: Marc Alan Fishman

Marc Alan Fishman: Marvel – Make Em’ Laugh. Make Em’ Laugh!

Ant-Man

Howdy ya’ll. I’m back from Nashville. And you know what they say about Music City: What happens in Music City, stays in Music Ci… wait, no, they don’t say that. Feh!

It was a day-job convention. It was exhausting. It was very much not about comics, pop culture, or anything fun. But since ya’ll wanted to know, I saw Barbara Mandrell’s mansion and it was everything I expected it to be. Isn’t this cool, kiddos? I’m not even one paragraph in, and I already need to utter ComicMix’s favorite catchphrase, stolen directly from Peter David… But I digress.

So this past weekend I was able to enjoy Marvel’s latest movie, Ant-Man. And I emphasize how much I enjoyed it. Amidst a well-balanced story that juggled the motifs of loss, fathers and daughters, mentorship, and morality, there was an underlying current of pure joy that rooted the near-two hour run time with positivity. This spat in the face of the pre-movie trailer roll, which included Fantastic Four, as well as both the teaser and full trailer Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice: Brow Furrowing: I Hope You Bleed: Don’t You See How Much I Care? It leaves me dumbfounded and baffled to ask this – have Warner Bros and Fox simply not paid any attention to Marvel Studios for the past seven years?

Ant-Man, much akin to nearly every other movie in the Marvel Movieverse, ensured that laughter permeated the periphery of nearly every scene. When wonderful things happened, a quip wasn’t far behind. When things got awkward, Paul Rudd’s Paul-Ruddyness broke the tension. And when the world needed to be saved, grimaces were grimaced, long enough to solve the problem. And then, on with the yuck-yucks. This is as it was in Iron Man, Guardians of the Galaxy, and Avengers (1 more than 2). By the time Thomas the Tank Engine was ramrodding YellowJacket in the mush, I’d realized I’d not frowned once. My usual resting bitch face ached from the corners of an upturned mouth – a feat only last realized when Captain America: Winter Soldier was on free cable while I was in Nashville.

It begs me to ask: who here caught themselves smiling during Man of Steel? Who caught those sneak peaks of Batman v. Superman or Suicide Squad, and rocked back and forth in their chair with glee (save perhaps for our own John Ostrander, who is given a pass while The Wall is given quality screen time and played by a wonderful actress)? The only time we may have had the slightest guffaw might have been when Lex “Not the Facebook Guy” Luthor cackled that “the red capes are coming.” Suicide Squad‘s trailer did elicit a chuckle from me – but only when I was snarkily grimmacing at Will Smith’s Men In Wild Wild West Robot Independence Day impression of himself. And the less I say about the dark nightmare that Fantastic Four is to be the better.

In all of these cases I simply can’t understand the logic, or the lack there of. Marvel has been killing the box office with each outing. Paired with a ton of licensing deals for merch, streaming contracts, and cable air-play, it’s literally the cash cow they can’t stop milking. Every new movie could spin-off a trilogy. And with Agents of SHIELD and Agent Carter making dub-smash videos showcasing that even on TV Marvel can’t stop having fun… it’s starting to become ludicrous to me that the others in the same space seem to think that the polar opposite must be the key to hidden treasure.

Forgive me if I get a bit philosophical before I wrap this up. More often than not, we turned to the funny books with the capes and cowls because they were fun. And while the industry at large grew darker over time – at the core, the fun remained.

And now, even amidst massive hits like the Walking Dead or Crossed (which is about as bleak as they can get), you can’t shake a stick without hitting brilliant explorations of innocence and joy. Beneath any layers of dread, angst, or fear, our pulp roots cling hard to the light in the world. Superman is, was, and will always be a symbol of hope. To yoke that with the sadness and pain of reality – and then double down with a dour and fighty Batman – is to celebrate those things that simply get in the way of how we want to feel when our heroes are given the opportunity to become that much more real.

If DC (and Fox) can’t see the forest for the trees… all they have to do is lighten up. Forgive me: Someone get those Pepsi-drinkers a god-damned Coke, and let them really taste the difference. There’s a reason why 7-Up ain’t even in third place, kiddos.

 

Marc Alan Fishman: Nashville Hats

rayna-20and-20luke-2Ye Ed Screeches: Our pal Marc was last seen wandering around Nashville Tennessee muttering about crowd funding. Actually, he’s been muttering about that all over the midwest lately. It’s become quite an obsession. 

He’s been spotted by the authorities … or, perhaps, by The Authority; all I know is what’s on this here Candygram … and they promise to return him to his wife and son just as soon as his extradition hearing concludes. I believe Marc said something about Kenosha, or perhaps he meant Genosha, although I don’t think he’s all that hardcore on the X-Men.

Anyway, we anticipate Marc will be back here next week, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel. Or we’ll re-do his photo as a connect-the-dots puzzle.

Marc Alan Fishman: Bill Cosby, Subway Jared, and Arthur Suydam

Fat AlbertAre there good guys anymore? Perhaps just you, my loyal readers. This past week we’ve seen enough to be stark (no, not Tony) raving mad.

First, the Associated Press finally caught Bill Cosby with his pants down – so to speak. Any more of his bluster is now faced with the truth that under oath he admitted to having drugged women prior to engaging in sexual activities.

Speaking of sex crimes… Subway’s own Jared Fogel was detained this week under suspicion of owning child pornography. To be fair, he may yet be absolved – a former employee of his was previously caught with the same material – but the PR damage is done.

And in our little neck of the blogosphere, artist Arthur Suydam was caught pilfering adjacent tables at a recent comic-con akin perhaps to Hitler’s taking of Poland. Maybe I’m being a bit harsh? I was all soft and gooey last week. Screw it. Let’s get snarky!

The story, as Artie would have you believe, was that he arrived at the convention and was shown to his table. He set up as normal, and life was wonderful. Apparently you see, the promoters mistakenly displaced several artists in order to meet the request of Arthur taking on four tables in the Artist Alley. Now let’s be clear: no one was denied a table space. However, the promoters did have show materials (guides, programs, etc.) with those aforementioned detainees placed next to Suydam. Clearly as folks made their way around the show, trying to find those people who clearly weren’t Arthur resulted in a stalwart fans having to do a bit of unnecessary sleuthing to trip over their intended artists. Was Arthur in the wrong?

I’ve only a little doubt that he took up four tables rightfully. As I recall at several shows I’ve been at with him, he does typically squat over a larger footprint than others. This is necessary so he can display his mammoth one-note zombified prints. I’ll not deny he has artistic talent. And as a businessman, if he’s somehow able to make profit by paying for what constitutes a vendor-sized space selling his posters? Who am I to nay-say his entrepreneurial spirit!

Wait! I remember… I’m an indie creator who has to play by the rules with conventions. Conventions that likely never let individual artists usurp multiple tables within the Artist Alley. Why? Because the exhibition space is sold for those needing more than an eight-foot table to their name. And while Arthur himself may be more noteworthy due to his run as a Marvel Zombies cover artist then, say, a completely unknown artist, that shouldn’t necessarily grant him carte blanch to take a table away from someone who deserves an opportunity to be at the show too.

Now, I’m not a convention promoter, nor am I an event coordinator. But certainly if someone asked me to purchase multiple alley tables, my instinct is to immediately offer a space on the show floor proper, if real estate is so sought-after. The only time I’d be apt to let a man become his own island is if my Alley has more space than interest. At the comics convention Suydam attended, I sincerely doubt there weren’t a few people on a waiting list who would have chomped at the bit to be at the show. Instead, the comic convention world at large had an opportunity to call out Arthur on his bad practices.

It would seem, akin to the aforementioned Cosby, that Arthur Sudyam is a long-time criminal offender without an actual rapsheet. Many folks who can continue to enjoy their anonymity came forward during Tablegate (or the better coined #Sudyamized) to denote their stories of Arthur usurping space much like the shuffling zombies of his milieu. And given that Sudyam had to have his people respond to the allegations that swam across Bleeding Cool, Comic Book Resources, and Newsarama, it only makes him feel that much more guilty.

Beyond the small guys proclaiming their hatred, the well-named (and wonderful) Erik Larsen and Mark Waid stood tall to declare their spite as well, showcasing Sudyam’s posting of twitpics with obviously Photoshopped crowds to prove his, ah, drawing power.

Artie’s response: In a few words, he chalked it up to his people posting on his behalf as a representation not only of his line but the con experience in general. No harm, no foul he said. Sorry. I cry foul.

Simply put, Arthur Sudyam’s enterprise preys on show promoters, and blots out the sun of neighboring booths. While it’s not like he himself forces gawkers from lingering away from smaller tables to his mountain of material… it stands to be noted that it’s purveyors like him that make Unshaven Comics feel infinitesimal when all we have to our names is a 30” wide pop-up banner. But the mob has spoken, and Arthur Suydam’s name is unmistakably synonymous with ill-will. I’d consider that a win for the good guys.

 

Marc Alan Fishman: What To Do At A Bad Comic Con

 

San Diego Comic ConA week ago Unshaven Comics had the pleasure to attend a convention in flux. The promoters – good, honest people – take this show to several smaller town and cities across our neck of the woods over the course of the year. I won’t divulge their name, nor the specific towns. Suffice to say the con was more or less akin to the conventions of yore versus the now-typical megacon. A single space occupied mostly by vendors, with a solid dozen or so independent craftsmen, creators, and miscellaneous geek-adjacent business-folk.

To their detriment, the convention grew from a single day endeavor to two. In doing so the minimal crowds that came were basically split. Twice the days meant twice as much transportation costs with little in the way of measurable sales increases. And because I like to be fully transparent about the plight of the indie creator: we sold less books at this show than the same show put on for a single day back in December.

It was, to Unshaven Comics’ till, a bad show.

But I’m forever an optimist – looking for a silver lining even when I need not go through the motions. When a show is not up to snuff, what do you do if you’re there to make money? Some slash their prices and attempt to break even with their sunk costs. Others cut bait and go home early. Unshaven Comics subscribes to the “make lemonade” methodology. We dig our heels in, enjoy the few victories we get, and we use the time to make strides at future shows.

So, what of those few victories? For us this past weekend, it was being able to take the time to really get into a deep discussion with someone who bought our book. It was having the ability to produce some extra sketch cards to fill our sample books to entice future commissions. It was being able to get up and talk to plenty of the other artists and vendors in attendance and network. In doing that, I now have a pile of business cards with potential for adventures down the line; a podcast looking to have us on right when our future crowdfunding campaign launches, a vendor who will be able to produce us some amazing cosplay materials, another who can assist us in producing some affordable up-sell merchandise, and lastly an artist who committed to producing a pin-up for the aforementioned campaign. Now, I’d certainly call that a win in the face of a loss!

If I can digress fully (kinky, eh?), allow me to end on an anecdote that reassures me that my commitment to being an indie creator will always be about the journey not the destination. During the show, a little girl came poking around my side of the table, as I was coloring in a sketch card. “Excuse me. Could you please make me a Fennekin?” One quizzical look later, and her mother came to translate. Fennekin is a Pokemon, and her daughter wanted a sketch card. Money was exchanged, and I assured my li’l fan that it’d take about 45 minutes for me to complete it.

“May I please stay and watch you draw?” she cooed. Oy the feels! “Of course!” I exclaimed. She then stood, stiff as board, locked to my left side, not even a foot from my drawing board. I propped my iPhone up with a reference picture, and she helpfully tapped it “awake” anytime the display dimmed. Whilst I tinkered away at her card, she proceeded to tell me everything and anything I wanted to know about Fennekin.

When I finished the card, I happily handed it over. She beamed from ear to ear, and thanked me. She would never have cared about The Samurnauts. She wanted a piece of art of her favorite cartoon. I obliged. And in doing so, I know that for at least a little while… she will treasure something for far longer than it ever took me to make. It’s a small and important victory not for my ego… but for my spirit. The joy I see in my own son was reflected back in a girl who herself was likely only three years older than my own boy. This moment to her, will be one for Bennett in hardly a blink of an eye.

With a genuine moment like that to cherish, who am I to say it was a bad show at all?

 

Marc Alan Fishman: The Swift Response To Save Starving Artists

Taylor Swift AppleYou might know her from too many pop-drivel hits on the radio. You might know her as the girl who always mouths the words and wriggles in her seat at all the award shows. But did you know Taylor Swift is also a militant defender of starving artists?

In a blog aptly titled “To Apple, Love Taylor.”  Taylor Swift laid into Apple (the computer company that also makes shiny, expensive phones, tablets and watches) over their recent announcement to compete in the streaming music game.

The Apple Music™ streaming service is being given away for free for three months, after which it becomes a $9.95 a month albatross around the necks of those who subscribe. True to their hipster-by-way-of-fascism business plan, Apple didn’t plan on reimbursing all of the artists for any plays of their music during this free period, believing this goodwill would ultimately pan out in a better-than-Spotify payment plan thereafter. Pure. Unadulterated. Evil.

So sayeth Lady Swift.

Taylor was swift to point out (nyuck nyuck) that Apple has the deep pockets and full coffers with which to pay for the play, as-it-were. So, a little shame here, a little bad PR there, and poof, Apple conceded. The day was saved. And the haters? Well, they can hate-hate-hate-hate. Funny enough? At first I was one of those haters.

I admit it. I read her well-articulated argument and honestly scoffed. Standing on a soapbox for the little guy just didn’t vibe with me. When she mentions – bleeding heart in hand – that “… the new artist or band that has just released their first single … will not be paid for its success.” I literally laughed out loud. The last time I checked, when a new artist pops on the scene and releases their first single they can’t give it away fast enough. It’s a music video on YouTube. It’s streaming on ReverbNation, Soundcloud, and BandCamp. It’s pushed out to as many venues as humanly possible. Why? Because by now, most musicians know that album sales when you’re unknown do not bring you the money touring will. And what better way to pack a house than to get your single out there and attract a crowd! I’d convinced myself that three months of free music would not be the end of the world for a small act trying to get bigger.

But why did I think that?

Because, dear reader, I am conditioned to be a patsy. Seven years as an indie book publisher has rendered me nigh-idiotic in the face of outright larceny. Where Taylor was talking about music, I immediately thought to comics. Specifically, I thought about ComiXology.

Where not three months ago I “accepted” the terms that traded Unshaven Comics’ right to set the price on our books on their Submit program for ComiXology’s desire to occasionally discount. “Why not,” I thought, “if it means more books get into readers hands? Who cares about a few bucks?”

Conditioned.

When a good friend of mine asked me to join his free online comic sharing website, Unshaven Comics discussed it for a solid 30 seconds before I was wrapping up our Samurnauts: Genesis issue ready for upload. “Why not,” I thought, “if it means more people see who we are … surely they’ll enjoy the free book and then support us with a purchase!”

It’s been the M.O. of those who seek to abuse the artists of the world. Exposure will somehow lead to fame and fortune. Yet I can’t honestly think of a single case where that actually worked. Yet so many of my compatriots in comics will open their arms at the opportunity without thinking twice. Is it simply a naïve outlook on life that leads us to welcome being played? How many countless webcomics exist pumping out free content, in hopes you’ll click that Google ad near it to earn them that fraction of a penny?

Let’s cut the crap: You don’t click that ad. You don’t buy the album if it’s available free on Spotify. You tell yourself you’ll do the right thing. But when no one is looking? You don’t. I know, because I don’t. I’m not a bad person for it either. I’m human. I’m broke. And I enjoy not having to pay for things.

So, to you, dear Taylor, I apologize. Your defense of the defenseless is applauded.

Now, if you could start reading comics, it would sure help me shake off the bad blood I have for an industry from which I will never, ever, ever get my fair.

 

Marc Alan Fishman: Making Comics Make Cents

Wally Wood 3D

What’s the Life of a Comic Artist Like is an interesting read should you have the time. It’s a fantastic bit of analytics built to depress even the most chipper amongst the Internet. After surveying 186 anonymous artists, the folks at SKTCHD assembled their results to share with all of us nerf-herders. They were clear to note that not every artist surveyed answered every question, and that 186 surveys does not equate to statistical significance given the amount of folks in and around the comic-making-universe. That being said, I think their results pretty much capture the essence of the industry – as I personally view it from my little suburban basement studio.

The first stand-out factoid: 48% of the responders earn less than $12,000 a year making comic book art. This is doubled down by the fact that 59.3% said they don’t earn enough making comics to have it be their sole occupation. Now, is this really that big a surprise, given that I myself have been making books during my nights, weekends, and holidays for the better part of seven years and barely have a dime to my name made in the name of comics? No, it’s not a surprise. As it stands today, only the cream of the crop are really afforded the luxury of working 16 hours a day for a living wage in comics. Does anyone here remember in the long-long ago when Brian Bendis wrote five books a month? I doubt he did it because he was making five small fortunes.

If we dive into those numbers, many respondents themselves are young, new to making comics, and/or work on the web. And unless you’re one of very few web comic creators with enough oomph to earn a decent wage solely from their web-based work, you’re very much in the same boat as those of us just chasing windmills in hopes for a life spent creating. This pairs well with the respondents’ fees per page. With an average that spikes roughly between $50 to $200, you can do the math with ease. At the top end of that rate, an average 24-page comic book story will net the artist a sizeable $4,800. Now, factor in that over half of respondents worked well over 40 hours per week – with 26.3% over 60 hours – and they are essentially making $20-$30 an hour to draw. This is all of course pre-tax and with no benefits.

Beyond the basic dollars and cents though, comes the colder, harder facts. I am a graphic designer during the day. I earn a good wage doing what I do. But when I come home and random freelance requests fill my inbox I’m less than elated to receive $25 an hour to continue my day job at home. In short, after 8-10 hours doing something, I’m less inclined to want to continue to do it after that allotted time. As a friend of mine recently told me “Working on a book 16 hours a day all month long, and then have to do it all over again the next month burnt me out. Even if I loved the material, it’s still a job, and there’s parts of it I don’t like.”

That fact shines through the data as well: 40% of respondents take no days off. It’s something I myself admit to you fine folks. About three years ago I downloaded a “to-do” list program. In it, I can schedule tasks monthly (pay bills!), weekly (write this column!), or daily. The only thing I list out as a daily task: work on the book. Even if it’s drawing a face on a figure in one panel out of nine on a page? I work seven days a week. And I work slow. I know I work slow. How do I know? Unshaven Comics releases one single 36-page comic each year. Of which I’m only responsible for 18 pages of interior art and writing. I’m a busy boy, and I’m only an outsider. Someone in the industry, deeper? Is doing much the same, for not much more than lunch money.

The last bit of data that hit close to home? 82.5% of respondents said that artists do not get fair and equal representation in comics today. What does that mean? To the surveyed at SKTCHD, it was a matter of how the industry treats the pencil-pushers. Many commented on feeling like “cogs in the machine,” and who can blame them? DC and Marvel are on a schedule. If you meet their house style, and can meet a deadline, they’ll load you up and put you on the rack. But if their schedule is rushed (I’ve rarely heard from an artist they had loads of time to do their best work), and they fall behind or get burned out – well, the line is still around the block to step in and take their place. It’s a snake eating it’s own tail. And in the day and age of crowdfunding, there will never be another massive walk-out-ala-Image. There will only be shooting stars riding their wave of fame (small as it may be) to an embittered end.

The data was sobering. As a creator myself, I’ve long given-way to the notion that what I do, I do for the love of the medium and not the paycheck. Seven years into it and that mantra remains unscathed. The best I can muster in terms of hope – is hard to determine. I draw and write to see the smiling face of a stranger light up when they see my work. I yearn for a day where I’ll have made enough output to perhaps see even the slightest payday wherein I could pay myself for the hundreds (if not thousands) of hours I’ve put in to build those wares. Perhaps our industry is simply built on the yearning and the hope… while the ones with the money just let those feelings do the work for them.

 

Marc Alan Fishman: Three Thoughts Laying Around

Justice League Gods and Monsters

Sorry, kiddos. I ain’t got no snark to hone into laser focus this week. With a day job literally sapping my inner strength as we prepare a massive brand overhaul alongside our massive summer conference, all I have the energy to do when I make my way home is the bare minimum. Which of course amounts to drawing pages for the upcoming new Samurnauts book, planning a major crowdfunding campaign around said book, organizing video shoots and marketing lists for said campaign, completing sundry freelance gigs for way less money than I ought to be collecting, and of course… writing for you, my adoring public. So, as is the custom when my well seems to be tapped of a singular topic, I present to you a smattering of my simmering speculations from my cerebellum.

Hey, I may be running close to empty, but I’ll be damned if I don’t have spectacular alliterative powers. Natch.

  1. Jon Bernthal is Frank Castle.

As per my choked Facebook feed this afternoon, I learned that Shane from the Walking Dead is now the mafia murdering mook of the Marvel U. As with all of my brethren online, I was happy to see such inspired casting. Now I’m not a big Walking Dead fan by any means, but I’ve certainly caught enough of Bernthal’s work to know he’s got the chops. Combine this with his partially busted (but still Hollywood pretty) nose and you get a Punisher who will have no problem crossing the invisible line from page to screen. Sorry, Thomas Jane and Ray Stevenson.

What I like the most from the announcement is that the part is hardly bit. From what most are saying, it seems like Marvel read everyone’s online yammering about how the Netflix ‘Devil series presented grit that was pitch perfect. And what better follow up to said grit then the House of Ideas most gritty character, save perhaps for Squirrel Girl, whose grit know no bounds. Suffice to say given the universe they built around Matt Murdoch, Frank Castle will fit right in. Even better: the obvious morality play that might present itself between the costumed compatriots. Whilst Daredevil has shown his willingness to kill, The Punisher is… The Punisher. The fact that it might lead to a showdown with earned angst versus the forthcoming Superman and Batman love-in? Yeah, eat two bullets, and call me in the morning, DC!

  1. Stone Cold Steve Austin Still Has ‘It’.

The other evening with nothing sitting in my DVR, I turned on the WWE Network (which I pay for mostly to allow my father to have something to do when he’s home in the mornings). They featured an hour-long sit-down podcast via Steve Austin and his guest Paul Heyman. While I could have easily spent my entire column lecturing you on how amazing Mr. Heyman is, I’ll leave it short, so the comics fans don’t click away too soon.

After 55 minutes of fluffy storytelling and jovial revelry between host and guest, Paul Heyman asked if he could ask a hard-hitting question – knowing that the last hour was essentially enjoyable nothingness. Mr. Austin obliged. “Why don’t you come back for just one night? Settle the unfinished business you have with my client?” Heyman asked. For the Internet Wrestling Community, this was more than a bon mot. This was poking a bear that has been long hibernating. I found myself on the edge of my chair as Steve Austin morphed into Stone Cold to respond to the potential challenge of Brock Lesnar.

His response was metered. His gaze became like steel. And the string of near-obscenities that dropped from his maw made me remember why he’s one of the three heads on the Mount Rushmore of Pro-Wrestling. In a two-minute response, which would best be described as a shoot promo, Steve Austin played me and a million or so others for the kayfabing fool I am. It was an amazing piece of work.

  1. Evil Batman is Evil.

The uncompromisingly talented Bruce Timm has a new animated direct-to-whatever-media-is-ubiquitous-these-days feature. It’s Justice League: Gods and Monsters and boy, did it get dark in here all of a sudden. Based on no previous work per se, this Elseworlds tale showcases a world where Batman is a vampire, Superman is an unhappy Latino Demi-God, and Wonder Woman is… combative, I guess? While most if not all of DC’s recent animated releases have done little to spur my attention, seeing Timm’s name on the project – along with his patented visual style – certainly caught my eye. With that being said, both the trailer and teaser clips released thus far have not engaged my engrossment to the point of desiring purchase.

Simply put, Timm is a master craftsman making something that looks good but hardly great. With beats (again, based solely on the released trailer and teasers) that come awfully close to similar ones tackled during his decade of animated supremacy prior, I’m left cold by the possibility that without the confines of network notes a darker and grittier Justice League is anything to be excited about. Justice Lords anyone? But, let’s not split hairs; Bruce Timm making a good feature is great for the industry. More ideas – especially original ones – will help spark continued creativity elsewhere. Let us just hope that Gods and Monsters delivers more than what meets the eye.

  1. Bonus recipe time!

Combine 1 thoroughly mashed banana with 2 large eggs and a dash of cinnamon. Fry up in pan. Enjoy your very own banana-fanna-faux-cake. You’re welcome.

Happy Saturday everyone!

 

Marc Alan Fishman: What Makes A Great Action Figure?

Green Lantern

As I stared blankly past my blank-canvas-of-a-computer-screen this evening (and yeah, I totally know you’re reading this Saturday morning…), my eyes have rested on my still-mint-in-package Kyle Rayner Action Figure. It’s his post-crab-mask, post-Jim-Lee, pre-New-52 costume. He sits in line with representatives of all the Lantern spectrum – Saint Walker, Atrocitus, Larfleeze, Sinestro, and Indigo. Whoops, never did buy that Star Sapphire figure, did I? Oh well.

There was a time, in what I’d wish was the not-too-distant past (it is, I did the math, ouch), where my toys would not find their final resting place on a half-mantle, still sealed in clamshells. They would be free-air action figures, posed in intricate dioramas, depicting my favorite scenes from books past. And slightly before that time (yes, so, I’m really starting to feel old), these same action figures would sit in a toy chest, ready to do combat on the coffee table, and zip around the basement. No worries, Batman can fly too. He installed rockets in his boots. Which is why there are holes in the heels.

Action figures have come a good long way since the 80s (when I’m personally professing the true boon began). The Transformers – once blocky and spindly in the same breath – are now multiple lines deep, featuring both highly intricate sculpts as well as animated-inspired designs offered in the same shelf-space. And where we comic fans might pray for a chase rogue packed deep in the line of a Batman or Superman series, now we’re getting B, C, and D listers being sold en masse. And where the action figures of yesteryear were either choked with articulation points (G.I. Joe) or confined to four or five (Batman: The Animated Series), now, we have offering from each pole and everything in between. And accessories? What was once a series of mono-color swords or missiles, is now a litany of swapable heads, hands, guns, and pieces of other figures.

And what of those Build-A-Figures? Pure marketing genius. How better to force kids and their grown-up counterparts to part with errant assets for otherwise unwanted figures in a line? Well, pack in that much-needed torso of the Anti-Monitor or Galactus, and suddenly the demand for Batroc the Leaper or G’nort goes through the roof.

If I’m allowed to kvetch for a second though, allow me now to digress. With the mass of plastic übermenches choking the aisles of the local department stores, there still seems to be a few big gaping holes left to plug. As usual, the girls aren’t getting as much attention as the boys. We’ve come a long way from just the pink aisle for the girls – packed tightly with 17 variants of the same white Barbie (sorry, Michael Davis) – but there still seems to be the stigma of corporate focus groups when it comes to complete diversity via toy lines. Look no further than The Avengers movie tie-ins, where Black Widow can’t even seem to negotiate a spot on the damned packaging, let alone get a figure to call her own. Where or how little girls are supposed to get their ass-kicking in, I don’t know. Maybe release a pink Thor and call it a day?

Girl-power aside, I’m also surprised that there’s no push of the ole’ action playset anymore. Back in my day a kid coveted those gargantuan homes for their action figures to pummel one-another on. To be totally fair? I only went over to Kyle’s house (Kyle Gnepper, of Unshaven Comics infamy) because I’d heard he’d had the Technodrome. Bastard never let me see it up close either. Suffice to say, perhaps it’s because of the price point or production woes, but when there’s 19 different Hulkbusters all coming to the collectible shelves near you… why isn’t there a half blown-up Triskelion awaiting the kiddies under the Hanukkah bush? Digression over.

So, what of my titular question? What makes a great action figure? Here’s the truth: imagination. Nothing more. No accessory too detailed, sculpt too perfect, or pitch-perfect point-of-articulation mean a hill of beans without the very life-force of a toy. Toys breed creativity for those willing to cut open their clamshells.

Now, if you’ll excuse me… I need to act out a better ending to Geoff John’s War of Light.

 

Marc Alan Fishman: Crowdsourcing All My Fears

blogpostcrowdsourcingimageOh what an age we live in! Marvel banks billions at the box office. DC hits homerun after homerun on the silver screen. And Boom!, Avatar, IDW, and Image continue to stretch the boundaries of the original source medium like no one before them. Yet, it’s we, the lil’ indie folks that are living in the most golden of ages. Why? Because the marketplace has found a way to make us matter; to give us a national (if not international) fanbase all at the click of the mouse. And now, before any art is ever born (outside some sizzling promotional pieces) whole projects can be given birth at only the pitch level. Rao bless you, Crowdsourcing.

Of course… they say the Devil is in the details. Right? Back in 2011, when Unshaven Comics was nothing but a lowly anthology series and an educational graphic novel, we opted to use Kickstarter to fund a dream – the creation of a cosplay suit of armor for our Samurnauts series. We had high hopes that if we really stretched out our arms and begged every single person we knew, we could raise the necessary funds (A whopping $1100 to cover the design, materials, and labor to produce a very high quality suit by some great artisans, Malmey Studios). Well, after an agonizing month of hustling? We succeeded. And in funding the suit, and sending out the prizes? We were left in the hole. When the magnificent suit arrived, we couldn’t be happier. And the joy that our live model (both in the suit and in the book, natch) brought to the kids at various cons over the next 2-3 years? It was well worth the effort.

What tickles me to no end is that what we raised then is a mere pittance in comparison to what our compatriots are pulling down today. And to be honest? It scares the poop right outta my colon for our chances, now that we ourselves are considering returning to crowdfunded-fracas. Even funnier? When Unshaven Comics needs 250 people to vote for them, for free, we’re still having trouble. But I digress.

I look no further than my northernly neighbors Tom Stillwell or Gene Ha, and marvel at their recent successes. Stillwell’s Fangirl garnered over 300 backers, and tipped the scales at over $12,000 to help him produce his excellent story of a murder mystery taking place at the largest comic con in the nation. And hey, if that sounds like you want a copy, look no further for a pre-order. And ole’ Gene? Well, not that long ago, he was begging Unshaven Comics for tips on attending a comic con successfully (no lie! He wrote about it here). And now? He’s proven how much of a powerhouse he is, with his Mae graphic novel project boasting over 1,300 backers, and more money than I’d like to type out. Girl power, indeed.

It would appear perhaps these successes are a boon; that finding a fanbase is totally doable, and with the right moxey, the money needed to see our dreams become reality is just a little elbow grease away. But alas, that’s the kind of fluffy talk that sounds wonderful until you try it. Back in October, my Unshaven cohort, Kyle Gnepper, sought backing for his project Toolbox. It’s a strong concept, paired with a wonderful artist (and no, I’m not talking about me, or the other Unshaven guy). But with all his gumption, moxie, and lucky rabbits feet in tow, Kyle was only able to see close to half his needed goal. In the fallout, he’s been paying for the project anyways, a page at a time. His passion – no different than Tom’s, Gene’s, or any of the other successes we know – wasn’t the key to success.

As it were, name recognition matters. The time you debut your campaign matters. The time you promise it takes to bring the completed project to market matters. The price-points of your wares matters. I could go on. What was once a breezy and open marketplace is now its own economic ecosphere, held in place by unseen forces and unknown rules. Where promotion was once tethered to your facebook fan page, a few reddit groups, and maybe your dusty e-mail newsletter list… is now a fully-developed campaign where updates are a necessary evil, along with stretch goals, and swag far beyond the standard tee-shirt or sketch promise. Heck, in the successful campaign for Albert the Alien, I paid a handsome fee to ensure Unshaven Comics be drawn into the book. Why? Because my money was burning a hole in my pocket, and the guy running the show, Trevor Mueller, is too damned nice.

So, here I sit, with a litany of burning questions broiling in my draft folder for those smarter than myself (it’s a long list, trust me). Does Unshaven Comics actually have a shot at seeing several thousand dollars for a graphic novel of our Samurnauts series? If so, should we be launching it before all the material is done, to ensure we’re far enough away from the holidays so-as to attract wandering buyers? Do we go with IndieGoGo where failure is far harder to achieve (with a lower bar to victory), or go all-in with Kickstarter? Do we seek way-out-of-the-box merch tie-ins for bigger backers? Do we offer wacky and wild limited prizes? Do we call in every favor owed to us by known names in an attempt to garner attention from those who likely don’t know or care to know us? Do we plan a staged coup at a big-time comic con in hopes of being written about on CBR, Newsarama, Bleeding Cool, or Ain’t It Cool News?

The answers, my friend, are all yes. Stay tuned for my greatest leap of faith, perhaps ever, in comics.

Marc Alan Fishman: Not So Super, Girl

As we are assuredly living in the golden age of superhero TV, it was a clean jab to the jaw to watch the trailer for the forthcoming CBS Supergirl show. In only six and one-half minutes, my optimism – once high and mighty – was sucker-punched and left waning in the gutter.

Flash and Arrow are running at a breakneck pace, unyielding in showcasing how comic book shows can be both inspiring and hopeful, as well as dark and gritty whilst still being network-appropriate. Gotham, while no means as good as its CW counterparts, had flashes of brilliance in between the scenery chewing and trope-filled set-pieces. Agents of SHIELD and Agent Carter both delivered period-appropriate ass-kickery, and more than one jaw-dropping moment. And while I’m not much on the whole zombie thing, iZombie and Walking Dead have both popped up in my Facebook feed as being well-produced and good fun for the fans. While nary a single one of these shows appeared to be as brilliant as they actually turned out to be, there was always enough there to see the greatness to come.

In contrast, Supergirl not only showed me nothing to be excited about, it made me worry for what will make it to screen, come the fall.

After a decent setup on Krypton, we’re whisked away to Metropolis by way of Devil Wears Prada. The prototypical rom-com workplace is our setting du jour. Really? Cat Grant, once a dirt-digging reporter and gossip columnist is now a low-rent she-devil running her own tabloid. While I might dig the girl-power aspect of giving Grant the power of the rich and famous, her screen time is given only to insult her employees and undercut women by celebrating girls. And she also calls herself hot, which I think must be a given – as her face looks to be comprised mostly of space-age polymers. But I digress.

Our titular Kryptonian is shown as a dichotomously dipsy dolt one minute, and a boy-golly-gosh-gee-howdy hero the next. It’s Super then it’s it’s Syewpah. Kara’s rocket ride through the cosmos apparently crash landed her on the set of Leave It To Beaver, and frankly it’s a shame. In the wake of Arrow and Flash, we’ve seen how our silver age heroes can exist in the modern era without being overtly cheesy. As presented, our heroine only seems to act appropriately when there’s actual trouble afoot.

And what of that trouble? By the trailer’s end, we’re introduced to the super serious black guy who informs us that all sorts of bad guys are just pilfering and plundering all over the planet. Luckily, I guess, Kara is here now to fight one each week.

It’s not that I don’t understand and accept the procedural portions of our pulpy wares when translated to serialized television. It’s just that based on what it set to tease us for the coming season, we’ll be whisked away to a doppelgänger universe where morts-of-the-week will be presented for super-punching. Given how closely Arrow and Flash run their shows – with home bases chock full of wonderful technology, and happy-to-help friends with no personal lives – it’s hard to find excitement in another retread of the same ground. Even if it’s on another network. And even if our protagonist wears a skirt.

But let me clear: I still hold out hope for the better. The half a dozen episodes of Birds of Prey I once watched prove my mettle. In between the quirky-peppy-girl-next-doorness of Supergirl, there were hints of something better. While my eyes are already set to roll every time we get this close to seeing He Who Shall Not Get A Credit, I will celebrate the fact that this show shouldn’t need him if it can match wits with the scarlet speedster and liberal archery master. And while it would be too much to hope they would eventually share the same universe, no doubt those counting the ad buy-ins would sooner spin-off something else to create a multiverse of superhero television empires.

Ultimately, Supergirl must be far more than the sum of the parts put together for the up-fronts. When the fans clamor for heroines that need not always be saved by the boys, Kara may be only a tiara behind Wonder Woman in terms of being the most widely recognized lady of comics. With the world ablaze in Avengers fever, and TV viewers DVR’ing anything that even sounds vaguely metahuman, Supergirl has the potential to be that bridge-gap nay-sayers need to come join the rank-and-file of the nerdy.

But if instead of a leading lady who shows that heroism is gender neutral, we get a dork who only gets hot when she’s showing off some CGI super powers… I’ll gladly continue to hold my breath for Agent Carter‘s second season instead.

 

Categories

Archives

Everything you need to make great comics!

comicmix-pro-300x69-2

Nucleus X

Bookshop Zaks