Category: Columns

Marc Alan Fishman: What I’m Thankful For, 2014 Edition

Much like several of my mates here on the ‘Mix, I hit the wall of inspiration. What fell off the top of that wall? Seasonally appropriate random thoughts! So, without further adieu, allow me to waste a bit of your time with all the things I’m thankful for this year!

The Unshaven Comics Fanbase

OK, I know. Pander much, Fishface? Well, suck it, haters. At the top of my comic-centric list of things I’m thankful for are the group of folks who have chosen to flock to my li’l studio make every line I draw worth making. I’ve said it before, and Rao knows I’ll say it again: when a complete stranger is willing to stop and listen to your pitch and see your product and proclaim a positive retort as to the quality of the story and/or visuals, well then, there is little else professionally I find more invigorating. Behind many of those tables in Artist Alley lay men and women still a little bit scared no one will appreciate their wares. And to see that over the last six years or so we’ve raised a small group of loyal fans across Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and over to New York? Well, it means I have plenty of reasons to be glad I spend as much time as I do at the drawing board (er… computer).

Comic Books on TV

How could I not be thankful that my DVR now overflows with the highest quality comic book adaptations on the small(er) screen? They’re not perfect, but Gotham, The Flash, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and their brethren are delivering far beyond my expectations. Back in the spring when the words “Hail Hydra” were whispered on air, my jaw dropped. Suddenly a decent show became appointment-worthy. And with a few shifts in the team dynamics, some more intrigue, and a little bit o’ Patton, the show continues to be a fancy feast of Marvelous content whilst we wait for the next blockbuster (put a pin in that). Over on the DC side, it’s hard not to smile and geek out over this current iteration of the scarlet speedster. Sure, there’s some similar team-building and freak-of-the-week tropes that were trotted out on the progenitor Arrow, but it was clear from even the pilot that this show was doing it’s damnedest to do it right. And here, almost half a dozen episodes in, and I’m excited to see where The Flash will run to when it’s running at full speed. Natch. Suffice to say, I could go on, but I think it’d be better if I finally type those words Mike Gold was afraid I’d belch out a few months prior:

It’s equally a shame and wonderful when the comic books on TV are higher quality than the ones on the shelf. And for that hypocrisy, I’m very thankful.

The Movies

Good lord. The Winter Soldier. Days of Future Past. Guardians of the Galaxy. And, heck, Big Hero Six. What more can I say, that hasn’t already been said? How about this: Thank you, Universe*.

* 616, for those who want to be completest. Prove me wrong in 2015, Superman v. Batman: Dawn of Angst.

Giving Up Printed Comics from the Big Two

After my beloved piece from a few weeks back (I mean seriously, it got over 50 likes, kiddos!), I think I made my case for why I’m done with DC and Marvel’s printed fare for the time being. As much as I want to like both of them, frankly, they’ve become too predictable, too bloated, and to prone to too-predictable-too-bloated epic crossovers that I have to read. Well? I’m damn thankful that I don’t have to, and I choose instead to spend my shekels on Image, Boom!, Avatar, and the independent comic book creators who choose to push the boundaries of the medium we all love… and love to criticize.

Not Running Afoul of Michael Davis

I mean seriously, do you read his column? That dude can seek justice, retribution, and vengeance all before breakfast. Don’t get me wrong, I look forward to when Unshaven Comics gets out to the San Diego Comic Con so we can see the Black Panel for ourselves… and inevitably say something wrong. It’s gonna happen. But for now, I’m totally in the clear. Except I stopped writing reviews for MichaelDavisWorld this year, and uhh… is it too late to take this back? Screw it. Lean into wave, my pappy used to say.

Doctor Who

I’m still super duper behind, kiddos. But rest assured, it only took four episodes of Series 8 to assure me two things: Peter Capaldi is my Doctor, and I really do like Doctor Who. I won’t lie. I watched every episode of House so many times I truly wanted the universe to give me Doctor House. Capaldi is as close as I’m gonna get to that, and it’s enough to make me excited to dive into the remaining episodes buried away before the Christmas Special I’m told I’ll need to see. No humbugs needed.

A Bright Present… A Brighter Future

There was so much good in 2014, for us nerds. But the biggest thing I’m most thankful for is that if you’ve read this far? You know that there’s so much more on the horizon. Marvel will continue to dominate the box office. DC will attempt to compete (and competition breeds better products). Once the epic-crossovers are done doing whatever they are doing? The Big Two might even return to telling good stories confined to single books that don’t feel compelled to be unnecessarily gritty, grim, or modern for the sake of a quick sale. OK, that might be a little too optimistic, but I’m in a good mood. Beyond that, I know Unshaven Comics will be launching a major kickstarter when our first graphic novel is complete, and with that will come a new set of problems, solutions, and ultimately fans. It brings everything back full circle, don’t it? Don’t it?

It does. Happy Turkey Day, ComicMixers.

 

The Law Is A Ass

Bob Ingersoll: The Law Is A Ass #335: THE TEEN TITANS FLUNK CIVICS

teen-titans-2-415x280-6425837Once upon a time, there was a very bad man who got caught committing armed robbery. Caught red handed. But the very bad man was never brought to trial. Never convicted. Never even arrested. In fact, the bad man got away scott-free.

And no one lived happily ever after.

Except for the very bad man.

I wish this were only a fairy tale. It isn’t. (Isn’t, that is, if we pretend the adventures of the Teen Titans are real and not, in themselves, fairy tales. But if you grant me that little wish, then this story, unlike those stories where wishes are actually granted, isn’t a fairy tale.)

It was all there in cyan, magenta, yellow, black, and white  in Teen Titans v 5, # 3. Beast Boy and Bunker were walking around New York’s Battery Park (which is a park in lower Manhattan and not the answer to that age-old question, where do you park your batteries). They were minding their own business when the very bad man pointed a gun at them, and demanded they empty their pockets.

As I doubt this was the preamble to a street magic act and the very bad man wasn’t about to produce a piece of paper inside a sealed envelope on which he had previously written the exact contents of Beast Boy’s and Bunker’s pockets, I must assume the very bad man was about to commit armed robbery. That’s what made him a very bad man.

Neither Beast Boy nor Bunker were inclined to give the very bad man the contents of their pockets, especially as they were both in costume so didn’t have any pockets. So instead, Bunker formed a massive psionic brick fist and punched the very bad man somewhere into the next panel. Bunker then said, in a rather self-congratulatory tone, “Far as I see it, I was doing my civic duty!” Bunker called the police on the cell phone he got from somewhere, but not his pockets as he didn’t have any, and told them, “A man tried to mug us in Battery Park. Oh no, he’s caught. No he won’t be going anywhere.” Then Beast Boy and Bunker calmly walked away from the scene of the crime, leaving the battered very bad man lying on the ground behind them, while Bunker said, with no small amount of pride, “See? One less criminal loose in New York. Already the streets feel safer!”

Bunker may have thought he was doing his civic duty, but his civic duty apparently included flunking middle-school Civics class. Let us, then, examine Bunker doing his civic duty from the perspective of a middle school civics class. Who can tell me what Bunker and Beast Boy did wrong?

Anybody? Anybody? Bueller?

That’s right, Beast Boy and Bunker walked away from the scene of the crime before the police arrived. When the police got there, they found the very bad man lying battered on the ground and no one else around to give them a statement. At which point, the police helped the very bad man to his feet, asked him whether he was all right, inquired whether he wanted to press assault charges against whoever hit him, and then let the very bad man go on his merry way.

The police don’t know who called them to report the mugging. They didn’t know who to seek out for a statement about the incident. They didn’t know who the victim of the alleged mugging was. They didn’t have anyone to call as a witness in the very bad man’s trial.

Without any witnesses to call and testify about what happened, the police and the prosecution had no evidence to prove that the very bad man tried to rob anyone. Without any evidence, the police and prosecution couldn’t possibly get a conviction. There wouldn’t have been any point in bringing the very bad man to trial. In fact, without anyone around to give a statement, the police didn’t even have anyone to press charges, so they couldn’t even arrest the very bad man.

And, no, the police couldn’t testify that they received a phone call reporting a mugging and found the very bad man at the site of the reported mugging with a gun lying next to him. Not without violating the Sixth Amendment, they couldn’t have.

The Sixth Amendment guarantees all defendants in criminal trials the right to confront the witnesses against them. That means they get to cross-examine the people who accused them of whatever it was they were accused of doing. In the case of our very bad man, it would mean he would get to cross-examine the people who accused him of mugging them.

If the police tried to testify about the anonymous phone call that reported a mugging, the defense attorney, even a bad defense attorney – you know, the kind who airs low-budget commercials with doggerel rhyming slogan in between late-night infomercials – would know to object to the testimony as hearsay. The police would be testifying about someone who wasn’t in court and told them that the very bad man tried to mug them in order to prove the very bad man did, indeed, try to mug someone. That’s the very definition of hearsay, an out of court statement made by someone other than the witness in order to prove the truth of the matter asserted in the statement.

At least, that’s what I said the definition of hearsay was three columns ago, and I don’t think it’s changed in the past three weeks. Let me check…

Nope, it hasn’t. So the police wouldn’t be able to testify about the anonymous phone call and there would still be no evidence to prove the very bad man guilty of anything.

Tony Isabella once told me he always had his obligatory fight scenes take place in front of lots of people other than the masked super heroes for just this reason. So there would be lots of witnesses who could testify as to what the very bad men in his stories did and the very bad men would go to trial and would be convicted.

So, once upon a time, there was a very bad man who committed armed robberies only against people who flunked middle school civics. The very bad man enjoyed a long and prosperous career. And he lived happily ever after.

The end.

Martha Thomases: Kardashian Kulture & The Comet Landing

What’s the latest pop-culture kerfuffle? Glad you asked.

Last week, while everyone on the planet was obsessed with Kim Kardashian and her ass (no, I’m not linking to it), European scientists landed a satellite on a moving comet. It was an amazing achievement, and I don’t know why it didn’t get more attention except that:

1) It wasn’t an American project, but the work of the European Space Agency.

2) It didn’t feature someone’s gigantic naked ass.

Maybe in an attempt to get some of that Kardashian crowd, the man who spoke to the media on behalf of the project, Dr. Matt Taylor, wore a shirt with an illustrated pattern of women in various kinds of bondage gear – and not the covered-up kind.

Here’s what I think happened: Dr. Taylor wanted to look like a regular guy when he was interviewed in order to make himself seem more approachable to the reporters who interviewed him. Rather than wear a lab coat or a business suit, he looked for something casual. The shirt was bright and comfortable, like a Hawaiian shirt. A woman friend of his had made it for him. It made him feel good.

And then there was outrage. And outrage about the outrage.

Now, I don’t think Dr. Taylor made a good choice when he wore that shirt. When you speak in public, you have to consider all the ways you will be perceived. Dr. Taylor was literally thoughtless about this situation, in that I don’t think he thought it all the way through.

A good publicist would have fixed that.

I mean, what if a female scientist, acting as spokesperson, had come out wearing a shirt with a pattern of semi-clad men in bondage, with amplified primary and secondary sexual characteristics. Would we consider that a simple fashion faux-pas, or a political statement?

Would we think she was welcoming men into careers in science?

This is relevant to comics because women work in the industry in ever-increasing numbers. We have benefitted, all of us, because women provide a different perspective, not only as creative talent but as editors, marketers, lawyers, art assistants and accountants.

And yet, the people most often interviewed about the graphic storytelling media are white men who frequently make jokes about rape, violence against women and other kinds of sexism. Often, they do this at press events that feature demeaning images of women, taken from the pages of the comics they are promoting.

They don’t represent the entire industry, but, by making women feel unwelcome, they damage the entire industry.

Dr. Taylor has apologized and I take him at his word. He made what I consider to be a minor mistake, recognized it, and did the right thing.

And also led the team that landed a satellite on a comet. Let’s not forget that.

 

Tweeks: Get Silly With Bad Machinery: The Case of the Simple Soul

comics-bad-machinery-1This week the Tweeks are giddy over the release of the third volume of John Allison’s Bad Machinery.  In Bad Machinery: The Case of the Simple Soul, the kids from Tackleford, England attempt to solve some wacky mysteries (barn fires for the boys and a troll make-over for the girls).  Already big fans of the series (watch their review of the 1st two volumes!), Maddy & Anya couldn’t help getting silly over this new release from Oni Press.  It’s full of LOLs over trolls.

Dennis O’Neil: The Tao of Funny Books

Could we have heard that name correctly? Sounded like the guy on the television said that a nasty killer was named “Szasz.” Well sir, I knew of only two Szaszes. One was an upstate New York psychiatrist with some controversial ideas, and the other was a comic book character. Since the television program I was watching when I heard the name (I did hear it, didn’t I?) was based on comic books, it seemed logical that the teevee folk were paying some sort of homage to our fictitious hero. But our Szasz wasn’t a killer; our “Szasz” was the birth name of the guy who later called himself “Vic Sage” and later still adopted the identity of a masked vigilante, The Question.

Vic SageWhy call him Szasz? Um… I liked the name. I’d seen it somewhere, probably in the New York Times, and when my man Vic needed (another) moniker, there it was.

Does any of this give anyone an insight into the creative process? Are you now able to establish a connection between character’s names and their essence? Is symbolism lurking there somewhere?

Probably not.

But speaking of names; we take a short hop past them and what do we find? Titles. (Names, titles…almost the same things, no?) So here’s a title: The Tao of Funny Books.

You might be familiar with the practice incorporating “tao” into book titles. The first, as far as I know, was The Tao of Physics: An Exploration of the Parallels Between Modern Physics and Eastern Mysticism, by Fritjof Capra. The subtitle tells you what the book is about.

I don’t know what the next ”tao” title was, but the next one I read (and reread) was The Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff. This takes A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh and friends and uses them to illustrate and dramatize elements of a much older work, The Tao Te Ching, written some time in the sixth century BCE by one Laozi who, by the way, might not have existed. What he (or it, or they) offer is wisdom and advice and, I think it’s fair to say, a world view in some 5000 words and I wish every politician in the world would read those words.

After Hoff’s addition to the Pooh mystique came the deluge: The Tao of Philosophy, The Tao of Dating, the Tao of Healing, The Tao of Law…even The Tao of Badass and, O Lordy, The Tao of Kim Kardashian. What those have to do with Laozi’s work, I don’t know.

Nor do I know what kind of book I’d append to The Tao of Funny Books. I don’t want to dishonor Laozi (or Benjamin Hoff) by slapping just anything between covers and I do believe that everything is interrelated so it seems that comics and Laozi’s taoism should be able to share a theme or two. But so far…nada.

The Tao of Nobody Home?

 Mike Gold: Superhero Movies of the Ancients

Don’t you just hate it when work interferes with work? It’s a sure sign that you’re working too hard.

I am rarely accused of this. Nonetheless, it’s late Tuesday, my column goes up early Wednesday, and I’ve got more work stuff I’ve got to do. So, instead of the well-researched, rabid screaming think piece that surgically eviscerates the comic book world as we know it today, I’m going to share with you some stuff I love.

There was a time when comics fans were in touch with related media such as illustration art, pulp magazines, science fiction, old time radio and newspaper comic strips. This was a time that preceded the mega-million dollar superhero motion pictures in which many fans find their legitimacy. No, what we had were movie serials. Most of them preceded comic books per se, but not those media noted above that were our cultural forbearers. Some of these serials were a lot of fun. A couple were brilliant. Most were crap, but, to be fair, Sturgeon’s Revelation – 90% of anything is crap – is as vital today as it was when he stated it around 1958.

Keeping this in mind, and acknowledging one person’s crap might be another person’s holy grail, I want to share with you some of the heroic fantasy serials I deem worthy of attention.

SupermanWe’ll start with what I regard as the best superhero serial of them all: the above-illustrated Adventures of Captain Marvel. Well acted, well written, fairly faithful to the Fawcett comic book, and featuring special effects that were quite good for their time and minuscule budget.

Whereas we’ve had a lot of other superhero serials, including the surprisingly well-made Spy Smasher (another Fawcett hero), the second-rate The Phantom, the third-rate Batman serials, and the god-it-truly-sucks Captain America serial, my second favorite are the two Superman serials, particularly the second, Atom Man Vs. Superman… Atom Man being none other than Lex Luthor. Superman was played by Kirk Alyn, who later had the lead in the pathetic Blackhawk serial (for one thing, the Blackhawk serial really didn’t have any air fight scenes). Noel Neill, who reprised the role in the 1950s teevee series, played Lois Lane.

Captain AmericaA lot of fans dislike these serials because the flying scenes were animated. Animated not like Ray Harryhausen, animated like Hanna-Barbera. I suspect kids in the late 1940s didn’t have a problem with it, as it really isn’t that bad. Ms. Neill was the perfect Lois, and she continues to hold that title to this day. Kirk Alyn was fine as Superman, kind of cute as Clark Kent, and in costume he looked better than anybody save Christopher Reeve. An oddity: Lex Luthor was played by Lyle Talbot, who also played Jim Gordon in the second Batman serial as well as a major part in The Vigilante serial, based on DC’s long-running Action Comics feature. He also appeared in an uncountable number of television shows.

There’s more. A lot more. Really good ones such as The Shadow, The Spider, and the best of the bunch, Flash Gordon.

Next week.

 

Emily S. Whitten: Talking With Marvin the Martian

The thing I love about voice actors is that even if you don’t know their names or faces, you will “know that voice.” And considering voice actor Eric Bauza was responsible for one of my favorite scenes in the voice actor documentary I Know That Voice, I’m super glad that I not only know that voice, but got to interview it (and the man behind it!) at this year’s New York Comic Con.

Eric, who hails from Canada and began his animation career as a character designer who also did animatics, is now most known for the legacy voice of Marvin the Martian from The Looney Tunes Show and for a myriad of other great voices, including Tiger Claw on the current Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles animated series, Foop on The Fairly OddParents, Belly Bag on Uncle Grandpa, Buhdeuce on Breadwinners, Amadeus Cho on Ultimate Spider-Man and Avengers Confidential: Black Widow & Punisher, Lord Stingray on Superjail!, and The Bear on Adventure Time.

You can see clips from many of the shows he’s done on his demo reel. He also is no slouch intellectually, as his longtime friend told me (while Eric was off looking for coffee or somesuch) that Eric was his high school’s valedictorian (and also a very good and humble friend, and an inveterate prankster). How’s that for a well-rounded, talented guy?

To learn more about the awesomeness that is Eric Bauza, check out our super-fun NYCC interview, where we talk about how he got started in the voice acting business, his experiences doing some of his favorite voices, what it’s like working with the voices he’d grown up with (like Rob Paulsen, Maurice LaMarche, Billy West, Grey DeLisle, Jeff Bennett, Jim Cummings, and Tara Strong), the experience of doing a legacy voice, and much more.

And until next time, Servo Lectio!

 

 

Michael Davis: The Black Hollywood Shuffle

ICONThe image of Icon to the left was on Arsenio Hall’s Facebook page last week. There’s a funny story behind that. Well, its funny to me.

I like Arsenio. I like him a lot. I’ve met him a few times but we are by no means boys. Whenever I see him I’d like to think he remembers me but I think he’s just being polite. Each and every time I run into him, what strikes me is how polite and straight up real the man is.

Polite, straight up and real is raised to another level by a woman of his staff. What level? Putting it as politely as I can, she’s a straight up bitch, for real.

That level.

I was invited to the Arsenio show some months ago. Guests on the show that day included Don Cheadle and Billy D. Williams. It’s fair to say each have earned countless distinctive accolades but some praise could easily apply to both. Each is respected as wonderful actors from a legion of fans. They get the sex symbol nod from others and many only see two cool as fuck badass mofo’s.

Every geek and nerd sees little or none of that above noise. They don’t see Don Cheadle and Billy D. Williams hardly or at all. It’s War Machine and the greatest Black Science Fiction character to ever grace the big screen, Lando Calrissian who they see and that’s who I saw when I made a beeline for Billy D’s dressing room.

So, there I was talking some, down right, up right, San Diego Comic Con and Black Panel smack to Billy, his manager and agent both who knew of the panel and me.

That was cool.

Billy knew me also, well kind of. Each time I see him at some event or party, I tell him if he attended The High School Of Art & Design, my school, instead of the much inferior High School Of Music & Art, he’d be a successful artist today. Instead of having to fall back on that “acting” bullshit. No, I never mention I know he’s a successful painter, which would ruin a running joke nearly 20 years old.

But I digress and every time I do, Peter David gets a check a angel gets his wings and more readers get sick of reading that.

Where was I?

Where I was, about to finalize plans to honor Billy D at The Black Panel, was his dressing room, invited in by Mr. Williams himself. Then, she who would have been named but I’m not without mercy, entered and that, as they say, is all she wrote.

No idea what her title was for the show but she seemed like she was the senior, Self Hating Unhappy Negro – or SHUN. SHUN ignored my backstage credentials, ignored Billy’s agent’s assurances I was invited to be there, and in no uncertain terms told me to leave Mr. Williams alone. I tried to talk to her, Billy’s agent tried even Billy tried. She refused to believe I was not some lowly actor out to sweat Mr. Williams.

Waving a finger a hair away from my face she informed me I was one more sentence away from security being called. She was about one more inch from me becoming that nigger, but I decided against it.

No clue how I walked the fuck away without another word. I was so fucking livid I had to get out of there as my heart was racing and I’m sure my blood pressure was dangerously high and, honest to god, I felt my head was going to burst a blood vessel.

I left the building but by the time I reached my car someone from the show called my cell hoping I was still on the lot. It seems someone told SHUN who the fuck I was and just what the fuck I was there for in the place. Hint: it wasn’t to stalk Billy D. No idea to this day who I talked to but for their trouble they received a fuck you so loud it shattered the last bit of shield my brain was using to ward off a migraine and I didn’t care.

This level of pissed is rare. Even for me.

This was a big deal. You may not see it as such but yes, yes it is. Not for most reasons you would think I think. All my wrath and indignation is not towards this woman, my anger has little to do with her or what she did to me.

My anger is rooted in Black Hollywood and our rush to destroy what little we have.

Many in Black Hollywood, forget we are Black in Hollywood and I’m about to remind them.

End of Part 1.

 

Mindy Newell: Sephora Kicks Super-Ass!

“Beauty, to me, is about being comfortable in your own skin. That, or a kick-ass red lipstick.” – Gwyneth Paltrow

“I fought a killer and didn’t even smudge my makeup.” – Rose Pressey, Flip that Haunted House

After a fun time with my grandson – soon to be 14 months old! What’s that saying about time flying? – on Friday at Gymboree, I drove over to Sephora to buy some concealer for my 61 year-old under-eye bags and of course ended up spending too much money on other shit that I probably didn’t need and which I justified by telling myself that I hadn’t splurged on said self in a year so stop worrying and learn to love the bomb, as Kubrick so aptly put it.

Anyway, driving home I got to wondering about what kind of skin care and make-up the superheroes use.

There are dozens – hundreds? – of mascaras that claim to be waterproof (though I’ve never used one that stands up to the pool or the ocean) and that will stand up to the most exhausting and sweat-inducing workouts and ultra-triathlons. There are dozens – hundreds? – of foundations and blushes and lipsticks and eye shadows made by companies, from deluxe department store brands to those found on a drugstore carousel rack, that claim to “lasts all day!,” withstanding everything from a walk in a tropical monsoon in Mumbai to a passionate, epic 24 hour tumble between the sheets. And there dozens – hundreds? – of skin care products promising to turn back the clock and/or replace more invasive products like Botox or Juvaderm or – going all the way – cosmetic surgery.

So what does a superwoman wear while she’s pummeling – and being pummeled by – her equally meta-powered enemy? Surely Superman needs a little styling gel to keep those oh-so-sexy Kryptonian curls and waves mussed in just the right places?

After all, no super hero wants to be seen with puffy, dark-circled eyes and a turkey neck. Doesn’t inspire much confidence in the civilians to be seen looking “tired and drab” when you set out to stop the latest threat to Earth.

WHOOSH! The Flash needs help. Yeah, that – ahem – flashy red suit of his is designed to withstand the friction and wind he creates as he rushes to help, sometimes hitting velocities beyond the sound barrier. But what does he use to prevent the certain skin damage to his wind burned and chapped cheeks, chin, and lips?

Speaking of skin care, here’s some other meta-human types that could some help with their epidermis:

  • The Thing. ‘Nuff said!
  • Iron Man. “What?” you say. “Tony Stark is enclosed in technological armor. He doesn’t have to worry about sun exposure!” Yes, but it gets hot inside that face plate. After a hard day at the office, there’s nothing the man needs more than a really good skin care regimen to cleanse out those pores and remove the layer of dead cells. May I suggest a little exfoliation two to three days a week with an at-home peel?
  • Power Girl: You do a good job covering up, Kara, but you’re forgetting that delicate skin in your décolletage area. I recommend a moisturizer with an anti-antioxidant ingredient (vitamins C and E, for instance) and a SPF factor of at least 25. But stay away from moisturizers containing retinoid or alpha hydroxy acids, because they can make your skin more sensitive to the sun and its photo aging properties, especially in the summer or in equatorial climates where the sun is always strong.
  • Starfire: Lady, I know you’re an alien, and that orange skin indicates the presence of melanin which helps protect the skin from sun damage, but really! With that costume exposing more skin to photo aging than Bettie Page on a beach shoot, you are risking looking like a prune before you’re 30! Hey, I’m the first one to say flaunt it if you’ve got it, but – never mind the moisturizer, you must cover up if you don’t want to develop a raging case of melanoma!

If looking delectable and gorgeous is part of the “brand” of taking on super villains, do ultra-women deliberately choose to look their best as they beat the crap out of some megalomaniac with phasers and lasers or even “old-fashioned” dirty bombs and plans for world domination as a subtle means to throw their villains off their games? Think about it. Wouldn’t, say, Arcade, so taken with Storm’s exotic beauty, deliberately lower the level of “play” in his Murderworld so as the woman wouldn’t be too bruised or battered?

Or, on the other hand, would Diana’s Amazonian beauty, enhanced with the understated mineral powder foundation and bronzer, the finest kohl eyeliner, the warmest clay lipstick offered by the cosmeticians of Themiscrya, only work to throw Barbara Minerva, aka the Cheetah, into a jealous frenzy of the nth degree, giving her even more of an excuse to rip her talons into Wonder Woman’s face?

Maybe the Grecian powerhouse should rethink her look when she’s up against women who hate her.

Yeah, if I lived in the alternate realities of Marvel and DC and Image, et. al., and I was a smart marketing or R&D executive at Lancôme or MAC or Estee Lauder or Maybelline or Revlon or Urban Decay, et.al., I’d convince my bosses to develop a line of skin care products and make-up specifically tailored to the super set.

And if it’s good for them, just think of what it would do for us working slobs.

Talk about product placement!

 

John Ostrander: Belief Suspended

There’s the concept in fantastic literature known as the “willing suspension of disbelief” by which the reader/audience accepts fantastic elements in a story that are not found in reality, semi-believing them for the moment for the sake of the story. If the creator is invoking it, he or she must be careful not to jar that suspension of disbelief.

It’s an important concept for those of us who labor in the fields of SF, fantasy, horror, and comics. Two things I find crucial to make the concept work – an internal consistency within the story and a consistency within the continuity. By an internal consistency I mean that something that was given as true on page five remains true on page thirty. If the character knows something they can’t suddenly un-know it just for the convenience of the plot. Likewise, if something has been established as part of the continuity, you can’t just disregard it willy-nilly. It doesn’t mean that continuity can never change but there needs to be reasons that it changes unless you’re going to do what DC does and just throw the baby out with the bathwater and start continuity over.

Something else that confounds my suspension of disbelief is when something in the story just ignores reality. I went to Independence Day and I wasn’t expecting much, just a good mindless action film. Unfortunately, there was incident after incident of things that were just patently impossible that it threw me right out of the story. To wit: Air Force One is taking off despite explosions going on all around. In fact, one explosion almost engulfs it. It comes up the tail of the plane before the aircraft manages to speed away. Never mind that the shock waves would have torn the plane apart – it was a Cool Visual.

Take an episode of Doctor Who this past season, Robots of Sherwood. Aliens are escaping Sherwood Forest on a ship that uses gold to power its furnace. A little more gold will cause the power plant to overload and explode. With the help of the Doctor and his companion, Robin Hood shoots a golden arrow at the ship that causes the ship to go boom. Never mind that the arrow would have just hit the hull and never come near the power plant. Never mind that the weight of an arrow made of gold would cause it to fly about three feet.

It’s too bad, too; I actually really enjoyed the episode up until then.

I’m willing to suspend my disbelief; after all, I was raised Roman Catholic and you’re told by the Church to believe that a wafer of bread becomes the actual body and blood of Jesus Christ and that you are supposed to eat it. As a kid, I just accepted that. I’m open to all kinds of things.

Every time I open a book or enter a movie theater or turn on the TV, I’m willing to accept the premise as possible at least for the duration of the experience. It’s when I’m not allowed to stay in that moment because I’m jarred out of it by something stupid that violates the premises listed above that I actually get a bit pissy about it. My time has been wasted and I do not take that kindly.

My own rule of thumb is to always ground the fantasy in as much reality as I can. The more accurate and real the non-fantasy parts of the story feel, the more the reader can identify with it and the more likely it is that they will accept the fantasy elements. Earn a reader’s trust and they will follow you anywhere. I know I do.

 

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