Tagged: Mike Gold

Heroes – Volume Two, a bitchy review by Mike Gold

Heroes – Volume Two, a bitchy review by Mike Gold

  • News
  • December 4, 2007

Warning! Spoiler Alert! If you’ve got the past half-dozen episodes of Heroes TiVoed, you just might want to skip this review. On the other hand, if you’ve got the past half-dozen episodes of Heroes TiVoed, I just might be able to add six hours to your life.

 

Once upon a time, some clever Hollywood people hired some talented comics people to help create a teevee show about a bunch of human with abilities far beyond those of mankind. It was a pretty good show – maybe it could have benefited from the loss of any three characters – and it was successful. The Peacock gods smiled upon the program, and thus it was renewed.

And it turned into a meandering piece of crap.

“Heroes – Volume Two” consisted of the first, and because of the writer’s strike maybe only, 11 episodes of its second season. Having a story arc that was a half season long was a good idea. It was their only good idea.

They introduced a number of new characters, and most of them seemed to have been killed off. They played the “good guy is really the bad guy is really the good guy” bit like Ginger Baker played the drums on “Toad.” By the tenth episode, you couldn’t tell who was being naughty and who was being nice – except for Sylar, the show’s only consistent villain. And the actor, Zachary Quinto, went straight from Heroes to Spock The Next Generation, which makes him a de facto good guy for ever and ever.

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Speaking Ill Of The Dead, by Mike Gold

Speaking Ill Of The Dead, by Mike Gold

  • News
  • December 3, 2007

As we were driving back east from two weeks in Detroit, Columbus, Chicago and Toledo – next time, I’m getting a campaign bus – we heard the news of Evel Knievel’s death. No, this blather isn’t about him, although I do think that saying you’re going to take your motorcycle and jump over 50 school buses loaded with nuns and orphans and then strapping rockets to the bike is cheating. Nope, this blather is about Irwin Allen, noted dead movie and television producer/director/writer and former cover story in Modern Asshole magazine.

Allen was best known for his disaster movies, “disaster” in the sense that the plots involved some sort of serious event (The Towering Inferno, The Poseidon Adventure). His connection to Knievel? When I was at DC Comics back in 1976, he called me in a fit of pique about his upcoming movie, Viva Knievel! It seems he heard we were doing a big ol’ comic book teaming Superman up with Muhammad Ali, and he thought a Batman vs. Evel Knievel companion volume was a lovely idea.

I didn’t, and as it turned out somebody quoted my arguments to him. Irwin was more than mildly annoyed. He called to try to talk me out of it, not that the decision to make or not make such a comic book was anywhere near my capabilities at the time. His technique was rather unique: instead of sweet-talking me or convincing me of the error of my ways, he used invective and attack. He wanted to know where some 26 year-old pissant got off sabotaging (honest) a big Hollywood macher like him. He started screaming an unending list of curse words that would have impressed George Carlin. He threatened my unborn children, promised to destroy my career (coming short of “you’ll never have lunch in this town again,” as I was in New York City) and I think there was something in there about my mother and an orangutan.

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Raiders of Lost Knowledge, by Mike Gold

Raiders of Lost Knowledge, by Mike Gold

  • News
  • November 26, 2007

A couple weeks ago, Linda and I were at the Norman Rockwell Museum for the opening of their graphic novels exhibit. If you can get to Stockbridge Massachusetts before the end of May, I highly recommend it. Even if you can’t get there by then, I highly recommend the Museum.

Well, I think I managed to break my record. I actually went off-subject in my very first paragraph. When I read this online, ten days from now (I’m writing ahead because I’ll be at the Mid-Ohio Con), I will really be embarrassed. But, again, I digress.

We were there at the invitation of the Museum and of Mark Wheatley and Marc Hempel. We did a graphic novel called Breathtaker, which was both published by and loathed by DC Comics. Joke’s on you guys: we were at the Rockwell. Anyway, it seems I’m digressing once in each paragraph. I promise I’ll be more linear.

Dave Sim, of Cerebus fame, was among the dozen or so honorees. Well deserved; he’s possibly the only single cartoonist to pull off a 6,000 page graphic novel. Dave, Linda and I got into a lengthy conversation about the medium and its future – occupational hazard, that – and in the course of discussion Dave suggested it was possible – possible, mind you – that it takes a higher level of intelligence than average to be attracted to the graphic storytelling medium (I think Dave called it “comics”). The Simpsons’ Comic Book Guy isn’t the exception, he may be the rule. And I’ll admit that most of the Mensa people I know are into comics, but that’s probably because a lot of comics people I know were in Mensa. And most of them couldn’t get laid there, either.

But we, as a micro-society deviant or otherwise, do seem to have a thirst for knowledge. So, with the kind permission of our DVD Extras columnist Ric Meyers, I can highly recommend the Young Indiana Jones DVD box sets. Not so much for the teevee movies contained therein, which I rather liked even though they lacked the action and pacing of the theatricals, but for the documentaries. The first box set (of two) contained 12 discs and some 38 documentaries, each running about 15 to 30 minutes.

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Thank you. Thank you very much… by Michael Davis

Thank you. Thank you very much… by Michael Davis

  • News
  • November 23, 2007

Every Thanksgiving the media does reports on what makes people thankful. It’s always the same things. Husbands are thankful for their wives and kids. Wives are thankful for their husband and kids. Older people are thankful for good health. Kids are thankful for their Mom & Dad. Blah, blah, blah…

blahblahblahblahblahblah!

Give me a break. I mean come on; everybody loves his or her family. Well almost everybody. I forgot about the Menendez Brothers.

I love my family, as I’m sure you do but besides them, I wonder what people are really thankful for?

I think I may know…

Men are thankful for women and power tools. Women are thankful for shoes and power tools (…give it a moment). Skinny people are thankful for fat people. Fat people are thankful for meat. Black people are thankful for Lincoln and videotape, especially in Los Angeles. White people are thankful for golf and vacations. Super models are thankful for books on tape. Liberals are thankful for rent control and gun legislation. Conservatives are thankful for gated communities and guns.

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Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, and the High Price of Irony, by Mike Gold

Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, and the High Price of Irony, by Mike Gold

  • News
  • November 19, 2007

Last Thursday, Alex Rodriguez signed a 10-year contract in excess of a quarter billion dollars that allows him to continue working for the New York Yankees, a team about which, in the interest of full disclosure, I couldn’t care less. A couple hours later, the government indicted San Francisco Giants player Barry Bonds for lying to a grand jury.

That’s a nice slice of irony. When Rodriguez “quit” the Yankees he announced his decision during the final game of the World Series, effectively destroying the momentum of the business’s most holy event – particularly if you’re from Boston. Still, it was bad form and I enjoyed seeing those chickens come home.

So now A-Rod (not to be confused with L-Ron or Kal-El) gets a nice locker at the new Yankee Stadium. But what goes around comes around and then goes around again: part of Rodriquez’s deal is that he gets all kinds of bonuses for accomplishing major feats that will inure to the financial benefit of his employer. Among these is breaking Barry Bonds’ home run record. I love irony.

That’s just become a whole lot easier. Bonds is without a contract and is now, effectively, unemployable. Like Willie Mays, he’s now standing still and breaking his record is much easier. Not that A-Rod doesn’t already have enough money to buy Mongo air-turf from Prince Vulcan, but still, we probably won’t have to worry about asterisks for very long.

While still wallowing in the synchronicities of irony, I listened to Dave Ross’s editorial on CBS Radio. Dave pointed out that Bonds is over 18 and if he wants to pump dangerous drugs into his veins, that’s his right. Dave lives in Seattle; they think like that up there. If it violates the rules of Major League Baseball, that’s the business of Major League Baseball and not our courts. He lied to a grand jury in 2003? It didn’t physically harm anybody except himself and gamblers. If a grand jury looked into lies that actually harmed people in 2003, Dave pointed out, they wouldn’t have any problem finding people to indict.

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Unconventional reading

Unconventional reading

  • News
  • November 18, 2007

Some of us not being nearly as young as we used to be, yesterday’s National convention in NYC pretty much wiped us for the weekend.  Other ComicMix folks will be in attendance today, but we’re resting our aching back and legs and never-you-mind, and catching up on the past week of columns:

And, although it goes without saying, don’t forget to click on our free online comics as well!

Coming Soon To A TV Near You, by Mike Gold

Coming Soon To A TV Near You, by Mike Gold

  • News
  • November 12, 2007

The television and movie writers strike is entering its second week. The picket lines are being staffed by more stars than there are in the heavens. The writers are looking for their fare share of DVD revenue – currently, approximately three to four cents per sale – and of commercial Internet action – currently, zilch.

Ironically, as teevee shows are starting to go on early hiatus, us folks back home are beginning to turn to DVD purchase and rentals to fill the downtime, lest our sets stare blankly back at us.

This one seems simple. If somebody is making money off of your work, you deserve a fair share of the action. Or even a taste. Anyway, something more than an insult. Collective bargaining is genuinely American; it mirrors the very values of fair play that we were all taught in school. Just like “socialized medicine,” there is nothing left wing or communistic about it – despite what some of our right wing politicians, corporate magnates and the liars at Fox News babble incessantly babble.

We need to look no further than the deposed leader of Disney, Michael Eisner. “It’s a waste of their time. “(The studios) have nothing to give. They don’t know what to give.” Oh, really? These clueless number crunchers who “earn” eight digit compensation packages strictly solely off of the sweat of the artistic community (writers, directors, musicians, performers – 90% of whom are largely or completely unemployed at any moment in time, et al) have nothing to give? How about starting with me, and give me a break.

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The evolution of outrage, by Mike Gold

The evolution of outrage, by Mike Gold

  • News
  • November 5, 2007

Running Press Book Publishers released a 1,200 page, 15 pound tome called The Completely MAD Don Martin, reprinting all the work Don Martin did for Mad Magazine, back when in the days Mad was a force to be reckoned with.

That means it upset our parents.

That function must necessarily pass from one venue to another. Mad pretty much owned that turf from its inception in 1954 until the mid-60s. It passed on to its own children: the underground cartoonists. They, in turn, begat Matt Groening. Remember when The Simpsons was going to bring down civilization as we knew it – you know, 18 seasons ago? Then Mike Judge and Beavis and Butthead were going to burn your house down. South Park was too obscene for late-night cable teevee. As Kurt Vonnegut (another candidate for this list) famously said: So it goes.

I first encountered Don Martin when I was eight years old: my sister had discovered Mad and I had discovered my sister’s comics stash. Whereas his artistic style was in the spirit of the time, sort of Virgil Partch crossed with Basil Wolverton, his intrinsic bizarreness leapt off the page and attached itself to my obdula oblongata. It shaped my worldview… which probably explains a lot.

The feature was called “The Paper-Pickers” and it was about two sanitation workers picking up scrap in the park. One is a virtuoso of his craft who can spear paper with aplomb. The other is jealous. Why, I don’t know. The virtuoso is doing all the work; the other guy is just taking a walk on a nice summer day. But the competitive spirit prevails, and the also-ran flips out, spears the virtuoso to death and stuffs him in his refuse bag with a smile of evil satisfaction that would frighten Hannibal Lecter after a nice meal.

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Of course A Is A, by Mike Gold

Of course A Is A, by Mike Gold

  • News
  • October 29, 2007

I finally got around to watching Jonathan Ross’s excellent BBC-TV documentary In Search of Steve Ditko and I’ve gotta tell you, this week’s Wazoo is going to be about one-third disclosures.

Disclosure #1 – I know Jonathan Ross. I gave him his first tour of DC Comics. At the same time, Karen Berger was giving Neil Gaiman a tour. Jonathan is a major teevee star out in Britain but was largely unknown in the States at the time. A long, long time comics fan (he owned a London comics store with Rolling Stone correspondent and seminal letterhack Paul Gambaccini), I think Jonathan was really into the anonymity of the tour… until we turned the corner and smacked into Gaiman. Being British and familiar with Ross’s work, Neil turned into a babbling fanboy. Being a comics fan, Jonathan was already a babbling fanboy. The two got along famously, while Karen and I were having a nice chat on the side. This connection actually becomes relevant anon.

Disclosure #2 – I know Steve Ditko. I love his stuff; all of it. We worked together on several comics projects, one of my personal fanboy highlights was standing in his studio in the then-lower rent portion of Times Square, and we’ve had lunch and dinner together on several occasions, usually with my pal and his frequent collaborator Jack C. Harris. We talked politics (go figure) and philosophy. In private, Steve was always free about his experiences at Marvel. This, too, actually becomes relevant anon.

One of the more interesting experiences I enjoyed was introducing Steve to Ross Andru. Both came into the business at roughly the same time and, coincidentally, both had drawn Spider-Man… although, of course, only one had co-created the character. Ross was as quiet as he was fascinating. He was well-versed on the Illuminati conspiracy, which was a favored topic of ours. I digress.

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Gore, Mayhem and Violence, by Mike Gold

Gore, Mayhem and Violence, by Mike Gold

  • News
  • October 22, 2007

Unless you’re new to  or you’ve been avoiding our online comics (hey, c’mon, they’re FREE!) or our comments sections (where the real action is), you’ve probably figured out that I am among a number of cultural recidivists who hang out in this corner of the ether. Mark Wheatley, Andrew Pepoy, John Ostrander… well, damn, most of us, now that I think of it.

So it will come as no surprise that I’ve been reading Girasol Collectibles’ Pulp Doubles series (orderable at your friendly neighborhood comics shop and dozens of other online sources), featuring the original Master of Men, The Spider. The real one. The original. The man who best typifies pulp virtues, where the extreme is commonplace and New York City is destroyed every month.

It’s Jim Steranko’s fault. In the first volume of his History of Comics (and, yes, I, too, have been waiting patiently for volume three for over 35 years), he started off writing about the various costumed pulp heroes who influenced (or, in some cases, were blatantly ripped off by) sundry comic book creations. I had never heard of The Spider before, but Jim praised it as being so purple it would make a French king wince in pain.

Instead of filling space telling you what that means, I will instead tell you some of the plot points in The Spider #49, “The City That Dared Not Eat.” It’s one of my favorites, and it’s in Girasol’s Pulp Doubles #1. I don’t know how you can better that title, but, damn, author Wayne Rogers (no relation to Trapper John) certainly beats it to a pulp. Here’s just a few of the story’s highpoints:

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