#but he is a loser. that's like the most important core aspect of his story he is a 1.81m tall beanstalk of anxiety and he's got no rizz

[ruvviks]

finally found the time to draw beckett :^) he's one of the first (sort of) successful test subjects of arasaka's serpent projects but he doesn't go there anymore. got adopted into vulture's mercenary roster instead and is now one of her bloodhounds :^)

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @mojaves;

@shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption, @ncytiri;

@calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm, @strafethesesinners;

@fashionablyfyrdraaca, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian, @estevnys, @elgaravel;

@aezyrraeshh, @carlosoliveiraa, @userbatwoman

[zoincles]

I want to go on a spiel about character design and my friends are losers who don’t validate me with heart reactions in discord.

While I’m not the biggest Zato fan I do think his character design is a solid good one. And I want to talk about why I think it is good. You don’t usually get a character design static for 25 years without it being good in some capacity.

When discussing character its important to acknowledge what its made for. In the case of fighting games, subtlety is usually thrown out the window in favor of making the character design essentially a pitch for the game or that character’s story. While also emphasizing the important aspects of a characters movement to allow for readability. Zato is interesting in that he isn't the main pitch for the space he occupies in Guilty Gear, as a puppet character, he isnt the main selling point of the design or the main aspect of movement, Eddie is.

Zato has a really simple design as a result of all of that, especially by guilty gear standards. The core elements of his design are a black bodysuit that exposes the biceps with a black and red belt around tied around his head. The primary color scheme of Zato is black with red highlights, which ties him visually to his shadow monster Eddie. Which can in turn be read as a visual tie to the “shadowy nature” of his work within the assassins guild if you want to go that direction.

Starting off, the cut out of the biceps helps from a design standpoint by acting as a color break and to show off his build. Zato used to be more androgynous and that helped to excentuate that fact, and now that he is jacked it helps to imply strength and capability even without Eddie. From a gameplay perspective it also emphasizes Zato's arms as a point of interest, as his hand movements are the thing that directs Eddies' movements. So having the biceps stand out is important in that way to keep the design from being a monotone block and to improve readability in gameplay.

There are also little bits in his design, like his belt and his shoes that help the design as well. The belt he wears properly is a necessary detail because it provides a break in the shape language of the character. That keeps his torso/lower body design from being boring as a plain black bodysuit. How boring that can be for his design I think is shown well in his original design from GG1. Then, his shoes having a red tassel (or more red in their design from Xrd) helps as another point of interest that can draw the eye but not as strongly as other aspects of the design since they are accent colors here. The shoes Zato wears have red on them in most incarnation, which helps to draw attention to the floor where Eddie is when not active.

The main point of interest in Zato’s design itself is the belt he wears around his head. First, people look at faces first as a general rule, and Zato’s hair and blindfold help to draw attention even more. I think the fact Zato wears a belt and not a normal blindfold adds an extra degree of intention behind the design that a regular blindfold doesn't. While a blindfold usually symbolizes blindness of some kind. The fact he wears a belt, and the fact it’s buckled on top of that, shows a more concrete purpose in it. By using a belt instead of a blindfold, I think it’s shows that he has a greater intention and process behind why he is blinded than just ignorance that a blindfold is normally symbolic of. The intention idea I have also ties into his story of sacrificing his eyes to be able to use Eddie. The belt also acts as another color break from his skin tone that evens out the color of the design which is primarily black on bottom but has more of his skin tone in his torso and head. The red around the blindfold acts as another visual tie to Eddie who is usually shown to have a red outline to him, I also think it could be seen to imply blood as another call back to losing his eyes.

The final major component of Zato's design is his hair, which is a bright blonde that acts as a major contrast to the rest of his design. I think his hair plays an important role in tying him visually to Milia Rage, the most important character in his lore. Especially since in earlier games their outfits were more diametrically opposed with hers favoring white and blue more. I think the similarity in hair is a way of providing a visual link between them, with their opposing color schemes reflecting their Love/hate relationship.

Anyway, I'm not a huge Zato fan, he’s alright in my books. However, on my way home from work I just felt a need to talk about character design and he came to mind. Some of it is probably a stretch but it made some degree of sense to me even in those. The belt over the eyes thing really just felt like me repeating “a belt implies intention more than a blindfold” in slightly different ways and I didn’t structure this super well, but it is what it is and I don’t care that much.

[flashfuture]

god I reread blackest night and I totally forgot how much they lean into the whole military/cop aspect of it all. It's so annoying to me bc it's like the default interpretation of the gl corps bc of Geoff Johns but I feel like it didn't have to be? Like yes the gls are intergalactic protectors or whatever but key word. Intergalactic! They don't have to be they EXACT SAME as the ones on earth. Comparing them to cops every 5 minutes even by the characters themselves is so annoying. Same thing w military backgrounds like changing john's background from architect to marine, or making it a focal point of Hal's backstory when he got dishonourably discharged after a few years and joined for the sake of flying. I remember reading a post about how once a characters original creators die the chance of having an interpretation be what they wanted gets smaller and smaller as time goes on. There really is so many ways to interpret a character or characters and even tho it is what it is now and even tho I'm probably delusional/reading too much into it I wish the gls didn't have to be this way or be like this to this extent

It's cause Geoff Johns is one of the worst writers I've ever had to suffer through. He's lazy and he's a bootlicker and it's boring.

The idea of GLs being cops is atrocious. They were more like park rangers.

Guy Gardner becoming a cop is the worst thing I've ever read and takes away every important aspect of his character and it disgusts me.

Genuinely DC comics is so fucking unbearable for me because of how blatantly stupid they are. Dude bros whine keep politics out of comics then cheer when someone is pro cop. Like dumbass you're just a right wing loser.

Anyways yeah Green Lanterns sigh the stories aren't even good. They kept nothing about the core of the Green Lantern Corps or the Lanterns themselves. It's just a shallow reading of it.

I've said this but newer comics feel like they stop when you close the book. They've decided their reader is dumb and has to be told every thing so no progression happens off panel. Every character interaction is hollow because we know they don't talk off panel or they'd have painstakingly wrote it out in a thought bubble.

So for such hollow characters where most of them are now violent brutes who fight crime to punch people it only makes sense they thought cop and military. Like it's just sad at this point. And the authors have no balls either. Like I bet you could tell Tom Taylor he's a talentless bitch and he'd piss himself.

Lol this is getting so aggressive but I genuinely hate the direction the Green Lanterns were taken in because I love them so much.

[natileroxs]

If Katekyo Hitman Reborn ever gets remade, this is what needs to happen.

Yeah this is gonna be a long one

Katekyo Hitman Reborn (Which I will abbreviate to khr for convience sake) was a manga published in Shounen Jump Weekly (yes that Shounen Jump, where all the big boys come from) and created by Amano Akira who did both the writing and illustrations. It began appearing in the magazine in 2004 where it had a solid eight year run until 2012 where it finished up with 409 chapters and 42 physical volumes. Only sixteen of these volumes were released in English by Viz Media.

The series was incredibly popular in Japan and even outside, becoming one of the best-selling Shounen Jump manga with over 30 million tankobon copies being sold worldwide. At it's peek, khr was at the same level as some of the shounen giants such as One Piece and even Naruto, with it's popularity even spawning spin off games and a spot in crossover games, the most famous being J-Stars Victory VS.

If you've seen the anime or read the manga, you'll likely know the plot, and reading all this is a big waste of time.  But for the ones who have clicked on this post without knowing what it is, here's a brief summary. Khr centers around a loser middle schooler named Sawada Tsunayoshi (shortened to Tsuna) who sucks at everything from school to sports, having no friends and tripping over his own feet, who one day receives a home tutor thanks to his incredibly concerned mother. This home tutor is the titular Reborn, a baby with a fedora and a gun. Reborn is a hitman, and has actually been sent by the Vongola family, a mafia family that's regaled at the most powerful in the world (and this is a world where the mafia is rather powerful in itself vs ours which the mafia is rather small these days beside small areas). He has been sent to make Tsuna the next boss, as the current boss has no descendants left and Tsuna is the 'sole' descendent of the first boss. So, hence, Reborn has to take the loser Tsuna (deemed Dame-Tsuna which means No Good Tsuna) and make him worthy of the spot as Don.

A mafia story that has supernatural elements (because, yes, I forgot to mention but the mafia have superpowers) sounds like a really interesting battle shounen. If you've seen anything to do with this series, you've probably either seen little gun toting Reborn or Tsuna fully decked out with metal plated gloves and a flame on his head. Yeah, that's what most people think when they get into it, myself included.

But what you have to understand is that khr started as a *gag manga*. What that means, is that it was a comedy slice of life with the most over=the-top, explicitly Japanese humor, with some cringe worthy jokes that very much overstay their welcome. This tone continues on for a solid 61 chapters, before the tone shifts completely with a darker plotline that only thickens as time goes on. Even so, occasionally the humor and jokes remain, although different. As many people on this website, especially fic readers are aware, there is such a thing as 'crack humor', and there is a sub genre off that called 'crack treated seriously'. 'Crack treated seriously' is what the rest of the manga is. Amano Akira has, creatively, used some of the bigger jokes and gags and given them actual feet to stand on. Remember how Reborn is a baby, yeah, there's a reason for that now. Remember the time travel bazooka? Well that's a huge plot point now.

In the anime, the slice of life stuff is spread out. From episode 1 to episode 20, it only adapts bits and pieces of the first 61 chapters, including the most important ones for character introductions. The first 10 are the most important, I won't openly recommend you skip to episode 20, but I did it so you are free to as well. The rest of the slice of life, which many wrongly interpret as 'filler' is spread across the first 100 episodes between major battle shounen arcs. On the other side of things, after the first 61 chapters, most of the manga is full out battle shounen, with occasional jokes and slice of life elements peppered in and some gags that have no story meaning hanging around like annoying flies.

Both of these approaches have positives and negatives. On the one hand, in the anime you have sudden breaks between massive, high stakes arcs to end up with gag comedy episode with missing character development. In the manga, you have to slog through a full 61 chapters of overused jokes to get to, what some would call, the 'good stuff'. While others do have a special place in their heart for the cringe of the first part, a general audience finds it hard to invest their time in such an endeavor to work through.

If there were to be a remake/new adaption of the manga, there would have to be several changes made. I'm sure it would benefit from these changes and some need to be made to fit into the general landscape of the current world of anime.

First off, the animation studio that originally animated the series was Artland, a company that hasn't released an anime since 2017 and there last successful one was Mushishi Zoku, the movie spin off airing in 2015. But, the problem with this anime studio is the poor job they did in adapting the source material. The artstyle is incredibly lacking, and is likely due to low budget and man power. The second problem they brought with them is the harsh censorship the entire anime got, shown in these pictures below (with another major change being how they cut out a massive character arc that was likely cut due to the grim nature of it)

This shot below is completely missing from the anime.

The new adaption would have to be (and more than likely would be) picked up by a different animation company. My preferred choice would be one that specializes in fight choreography and also stays loyal to distinct art styles. If you think you've seen Amano Akira's style before, it could be because you've watched Psycho Pass, where she did the art and character designs.

The original seiyus were brilliant, however, especially Neeko as Reborn, Kondou Takashi as Hibari Kyoya, and Iida Toshinobu as Rokudo Mukuro, only to name a few. The music is incredible as well, with Sahashi Toshihiko on music The most popular piece of music from this anime is Tsuna Awakens. Several of the anime's openings are spectacular as well, seeming to have the budget that the core anime didn't achieve until possibly the middle where it's animation was more so spotty in terms of quality. In a new adaption, my desire would be for as many of these seiyus to return and old tracks from the OST to remain while new ones are created.

The trouble with adapting such a giant as khr would be the pacing and slice of life vs battle shounen that it has. Merging the two together to make it appealing to both old fans and outsiders would take a lot of work, patience, and belief. It would do better to stick closer to the manga's darker tone and remove less necessary gags but keep some of the more beloved ones (such as Hibari's 咬み殺す(Kamikorosu or "I'll bite you to death").

The condensing of the character introductions is very important if the anime is to become seasonal. One could argue that keeping the original pacing wouldn't be so bad when you're airing weekly for months on end, but when you're producing 12/24 episode seasons, filling up 20 episodes with character development and slice of life will turn away audiences who are there for the action. Heightening stakes, keeping in core serious character aspects, and speeding through less important characters to do more of a show don't tell approach, can get more general audiences engaged in the series early rather than possibly loosing a fair few viewers due to the slow start.

If a remake did this, it would definitely give the series a popularity boost and get it back on people's radars as one of the best shounen's of SJW and the mid-2000s.  

[gayedmundo]

obviously i can tell you love richie/eddie and the story and all (and i do too) but i was genuinely wondering, what's your opinion on the homophobia of the story, if you think there is any at all? do you think this still falls under bury your gays? is this good representation?

this is a very good question! i love unpacking stuff like this so thanks for sending it. but really, there’s no straightforward answer i can give you. i think there are far too many gay love stories that end in tragedy, the bury your gays trope is old and exhausting, and no, this isn’t the height of representation. this being said, you can also see those tragic stories as a frank, albeit upsetting, confrontation of the reality of homophobia, something that shouldn’t be glossed over. but in that case, is this a story catered to gay people or is it a story catered to straight people, to make homophobes understand and/or to let allies pat themselves on the back for acknowledging it? would it have been better for them to leave richie and/or eddie as purely subtextual and therefore dodge the tragic ending for the gay couple or is it good that they finally just admitted that this is a gay relationship? how about the adrian scene? should it have been left out because it’s too graphic? or is it important that it’s left in because it raises a magnifying glass on homophobia? honestly, i don’t think there’s a simple answer to any of those questions. if it were up to me, i would say the ideal way to handle it would be to keep in the adrian scene and then let eddie live in the end and have him and richie get their happy ending together in the same way ben and beverly do. it would show gay love overcoming the previously depicted homophobic violence that has been encouraged and enflamed by pennywise. because at it’s core, the story is supposed to be about the good triumphing over evil, and it’s truly is upsetting that only the straight characters get their chance at a happy ending while the gay characters have it ripped away from them. but i know that that would’ve been a huge change from the book and it was highly unlikely to get that. 

all of this being said, this is a highly anticipated major motion picture based on an iconic story that people have known for over 30 years. these are characters people have grown to love over the years. this is a horror movie, which is a genre that very very rarely has gay representation and when it does, it’s not often sympathetic. this is a story that has the themes of fear, shame, bigotry, trauma, and repression. as well as self acceptance, bravery, individuality, and love. the decision to make one or more of the losers gay not only fits in perfectly with the story but adds to it. they’ve made richie’s feelings for eddie and his struggle with his sexuality a core part of the movie and it’s what makes several of the most emotional moments of the film so poignant. straight men who have been projecting on richie for his Sarcastic Vulgar Funny Guy persona are gonna have to deal with the fact that he’s gay and that his humor is a coping mechanism to avoid dealing with his insecurities rooted in his sexuality. one of the most important relationships between two of the main characters in this film is a gay love story and that was a power move that i’m sure as hell gonna be happy about even though i know there’s plenty of aspects to all of this that i can criticize. so in conclusion, is it good gay rep? hell if i know. but i’m gonna be in the theater mentally yelling GAY RIGHTS the whole time anyway.

[portfolio-ni-rizza]

Netflix’s Death Note: [Personal] Review

Director Adam Wingard's Death Note is basically a Final Destination bootleg with the manga's name. It's flat, unnecessarily gory, and incoherent. Its promising moments are completely swept under the rug of its overall disjointed narrative and out-of-character acting.

I love Death Note. It's one of my all-time favorite series. I even have merch from my weaaboo days (haha). But I've also never been a fan of manga adaptations–not even anime (to an extent; I'm looking at you, Full Metal Alchemist and Shugo Chara season 3), and especially not of Western movies. Hollywood has YET to produce a decent manga adaptation, and this one is right up there with M. Night's The Last Airbender.

I'm not sure how these directors do their research, but by and large their end products wind up looking like their "research" is pretty much just looking up the plot on Wikipedia and making what they will of that. Netflix's DN is the absolute barebones of the wonderful masterpiece that is Ohba and Obata's Death Note. It's even more disappointing if you think about the fact that Death Note's "absolute barebones" is still a good material to work with, and we STILL end up with this bastardization.

First of all, I, at least, have no problem with the setting. To begin with, Netflix did say this was an Americanized version of the original. It makes sense that they'd change the names, considering this is set in Seattle. I did appreciate that 'Mia Sutton' is not too far from 'Misa Amane' as far as the composite letter are concerned lol. My biggest problem was the characters themselves, but I'll focus on 2 to keep this from being indecently long.

Light Turner is not supposed to be Timmy Turner's older, emo brother and is an average kid whom no one understands and happens to be good at Math and doing other people's homework. The core of Light's character is his PERFECTION. He is so far above average that he's completely detached from the rest of the world. That god complex was the entire reason he even took and managed to assume a 'god' character. It's literally the core of Death Note. Light is supposed to be the perfect son, perfect student, perfect citizen. Everyone loves him and looks up to him. And HE knows that. People don't need to tell him; he knows for himself he is BETTER than others. That's how Kira came to be in the first place.

Netflix's Light Turner is a wimpy loser with absolutely no depth as a character. He is completely one dimensional. He responds to dark and violent situations with darkness and violence. He is bullied so he fights back. His mother is murdered so he kills the murderer. It's a completely overused narrative that puts the essence of Light Yagami, antihero extraordinaire, straight into the chopping block.

From the get-go, his character is completely wrong. He is introduced as a nerdy kid who earns lunch money by doing other kids' homework. He has zero charisma. He's at the bottom of the food chain. He has absolutely nothing of what it takes to become the god that is Kira. The way that Light Turner was written would never have let him become anything larger than life; it just made him a vindictive bully who happened to be able to kill.

(A very dangerous combination–but for all the wrong reasons.)

Which just obliterates the central theme of Death Note altogether, and throws out the window the very foundation of what made the original work.

Second, this film is unnecessarily gory. Sure, a certain degree of violence is expected when it comes to murder, but Wingard just made this entire movie a B-rated slasher film with his slow-motion death scenes–something he just PACKS the whole movie with and spotlights on like it's the most important aspect of the story when it's totally secondary (if not completely an afterthought) in the original.

It's not even realistic. Light sees a BULLY (not a criminal; just a run-of-the-mill playground bully) antagonizing a schoolmate, he's handed a murder weapon for a TEST RUN, and he immediately, without a shadow of a doubt, writes 'decapitation' as the method of death? He chooses something that is exceedingly difficult, unnatural, and very, very specific for the first time he's trying to kill someone? He doesn't even UNDERSTAND what's going on; he's just had a massive Poltergeist experience. How was it possible for him to suddenly have enough presence of mind to write down an oddly specific method of death for someone who isn't even evil, just mean? That doesn't bode very well for Light as a person, let alone someone who's about to play god.

Throughout the movie, Light visibly struggles with his actions. He has no certainty. He kills with the Death Note but he lacks the inherent motivation for it; he only does it because he has to. Nothing about the characterization of Light Turner remotely suggested that he has what it takes to rule the world, as what he is essentially doing when he dictates who lives or dies (or tells your story lol). But then–all of a sudden, 5 minutes to the end of the movie and he explains this elaborate scheme where he undoes Mia killing him and transfers the ownership of the notebook back to him and basically just manipulated space and time so suit his needs.

That is a completely Light YAGAMI thing to do (and something he HAS actually done numerous times in the original). Nothing about Light TURNER's character and actions suggested he was capable of that. How convenient that 2 minutes before the police gets to him, he suddenly taps into his inner high-functioning psychopath and concocts an über-complicated plan to not die but kill 3 people and destroy one theme park along the way.

Where did that inner 'HIGH FUNCTIONING' part come from? Nearly two hours to have shown that Light's brilliant mind goes beyond solving Calculus problems and thinking up oddly particular methods of dying, and you choose the last five minutes to cram that in.

How very high school.

But enough about Light. Now we go to another important character–L. Considering that these 2 are the only ones they retain from the original (excepting Ryuk, but that's another point). L is one of the most brilliant minds in the world, but instead the movie showed him as nothing more than a weirdo that throws tantrums and only needs the FLIMSIEST of proofs to say he "knows" and he's "right". 

The original L does operate entirely on the gut feeling that Light is Kira, but he sets out to prove that. To him, nothing is ever damning enough and he won't settle for anything less than seeing Light actually murder someone right before L's very eyes. Movie L suddenly "just knows". Nothing about his actions suggests that he has the means to prove that Light is Kira; if anything, he's trying to make it so that things DO go with his conclusion, whether or not it's actually true. The real L is nothing like that. He backed down when his proofs didn't go with his conclusions. L believes in justice, first and foremost. He's almost childlike in his black-and-white convictions (I have a screenshot of this panel, so my receipts are in place). This L just doesn't capture that innocence. 

By itself, the movie isn't THAT bad. It only becomes a terrible crapfest when you have the original to compare it with. Netflix's Death Note can stand alone as a slasher/horror/thriller film to Netflix and chill with if you are holding it to itself, but never make the mistake of reading/watching the original brilliance that is Ohba and Obata's Death Note first.

I do have a real concern with the keeping of the name "Kira". Kira is just the Japanese pronunciation of "killer". Japanese people literally were calling Light, "Killer". Why did Wingard keep the Jap pronunciation? What purpose did it serve other than that 5-second line where L says it was to mislead investigation to thinking Light was Japanese? Why is there even a need for that? Was that supposed to be a nod to the Japanese root of Death Note? It may have been a pure intention on the director's part, though, but it was unnecessary, if not even reeking of whitewashing–but I'd digress and hope for the best.

[arosnowflake]

@siryamsalot ‘imagine FMA but Reigen is there to be an adult figure. how would the plot change’

listen you have no idea what you just unleashed bc since putting that post in the queue I’ve actually thought about this a LOT and the conclusion I’ve come to is that Reigen and FMA are almost entirely incompatible without changing some fundamental aspect of at least one of the two.

The thing is that at least one of Reigen’s fundamental roles in the story is incompatible with FMA. Reigen is a character who exists for two primary reasons: a) to be the mentor character for Mob, and b) to the the moral focal point for the adults in the MP100 series. While the first role could be adapted for FMA, the second one is attached to a theme that FMA does not have, and is therefore very difficult to adapt to that story.

While MP100 and FMA do share some themes, most notably the importance of trust and interpersonal relationships, they handle their child protagonists very differently in a way that makes it very hard to merge the two universes. FMA does acknowledge that Ed is a child, and it is implicitly acknowledged that him being in the military is kind of fucked up, but it doesn’t linger on those things because its focus is ultimately not on deconstructing the Shounen trope of having children fight (in the wars of) adults. It’s simply not all that interested in examining whether the adults should be fighting Ed, and how fighting adults would affect Ed’s psyche. It’s not one of FMA’s core themes.

MP100, on the other hand, has a core theme of ‘adult responsibility’, which radically changes the way it treats its child protagonist and the adults around him. MP100, at its core, is about the importance of interpersonal relationships, the importance of kindness and compassion, and growing up. The ‘growing up’ part is where the theme of ‘adult responsibility’ comes in, because while MP100 essentially is a coming of age story for Mob, pretty much everyone else also has a lot of growing up to do, including the adults. But the adults who have failed to ‘grow up’ are treated a lot more harshly by the narrative, and rightly so, because if you haven’t really grown up as a kid, that’s pretty much normal and mostly harmless. However, adults have responsibilities that kids don’t and shouldn’t have, and if they fail to accept those responsibilities because they’re too stuck in their childish ways to do so, people will get hurt - children will get hurt. 

One of the main things that MP100 considers to be an adult’s responsibility is the well-being of any and all children in their care, and even those that aren’t in their care, tbh. This is where Reigen comes in. 

Reigen is by no means exempt from an arc where he learns to grow up, nor is he a perfect person with no issues - in fact, MP100 makes a point to show that nobody is ever really done growing, and that nobody is without their flaws, but that everyone can strive to be a good person, and that includes Reigen. So while Reigen definitely has immature habits and character flaws, one thing he is consistently good at is taking responsibility for the children in his care. Obviously, he can’t prevent all harm that comes to them, but he consistently calls adults out for fighting them, and often puts himself in the line of danger even though he has no real way of fighting the threat just because he realizes that Mob - our 14-year-old protag in Reigen’s care - shouldn’t have to. Whether he actually succeeds in this depends on the threat he faces, but he does try, and that’s really what matters in the end. 

Reigen is also more mature than many of the other adults in the series in different ways; he has a job that is mostly legal (aside from whatever wage and child labour laws he’s definitely breaking by employing Mob), he has his own apartment, he maintains fire insurance for his office, and he is generally a pretty functional member of society. Again, not saying he has his shit together entirely (he’s a perpetual liar with a severe difficulty of making and maintaining personal relationships, he’s a conman, he employs/has employed a child for very little financial compensation to do like 90% of the heavy lifting in his job), but compared to most of the other adults in the series? Yeah, he’s an example of a good, functional adult.

And that’s kind of his primary role in the story; to be a contrast to and moral focal point for the other adults in the series. All the other adults are basically standard Shounen characters, and have no qualms fighting children and doing shit like trying to take over the world, but then Reigen storms onto the scene and puts into perspective just how fucking ridiculous it is. Even when he doesn’t make them see himself just how stupid they’re being, Reigen’s mere presence is enough for the audience to be reminded that all this Shounen nonsense would be incredibly dumb irl, and that any adult who buys into it is a childish loser. 

This is why you have a bunch of people joking about how Reigen is basically just a normal dude who got dragged into a Shounen story; Reigen breaks the unwritten rule that you don’t point out the Shounen conventions, and you definitely don’t point out that the child protag should probably not be fighting adults, and that adults who fight children and do stuff like try to take over the world are fucking losers. And that’s one of his primary roles in the story. 

So putting him in a Shounen like FMA, which mostly lets those Shounen principles go unexamined, is practically impossible bc his entire character is designed to poke holes in the things that you’re not supposed to question. 

So if you plopped Reigen in FMA, you’d either have to a) change Reigen’s character to remove the ways in which he is a typical responsible adult, including his protectiveness over kids, which would reduce his likability by at least 90%, b) change FMA’s universe to include similar themes as MP100, which is gonna take some work bc it’s just really not compatible with the save-the-world plot it has or the general universe its created for that matter, or c) accept that Reigen’s presence is going to make your audience question the ethical implications of child soldiers more than FMA already will and just accept your story will be dark as shit now.

That said, I think you could make a decent MP100 FMA AU with Reigen as long as you either a) ditched FMA’s overarching plot (which would help anyway bc tbh Mob is just a much more passive protag than Ed, and Ed’s pro-active-ness was really what drove the story), or b) made Reigen an Izumi-like mentor character who isn’t present for the majority of the story, but when he IS there he’s basically doing nothing but trying to keep Mob (and Ritsu) save. But I don’t think you could make him a deutagorist to Mob in a straight FMA universe because there’s just no fucking way he’d let Mob join the fucking military if he could physically help it, and if Mob doesn’t join the military the FMA plot wouldn’t happen, so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TL;DR Reigen would literally break FMA’s universe.

[tisthewoman]

Why You Shouldn't Let An English Teacher See Movies: a reaction post of IT:Chapter 2

Okay, so I finally saw IT Chapter 2, and I have some thoughts. Some of these thoughts might rub people the wrong way, which is okay, but be warned that I'm not going to hold back here.

As a whole, let me preface by saying that I loved this movie. I will go to see it 3 more times, and I will enjoy every moment. However, objectively… this is not a film that I can recommend to people as a “great film” artistically speaking. Is it fun and Good™? Yes. Did I enjoy it immensely? Yes. Were there some very odd and disruptive writing/direction choices? Yeah. This isn’t a masterpiece, as fantastic as I personally felt it was, and honestly I do not think it topped Chapter 1 in terms of flow, total presentation, or scriptwriting.

I’m going to break down my thoughts by category:

1. Story elements

2. Visuals & Horror

3. Tone

Starting with Story Elements:

I am incredibly torn on this. I LOVED aspects of this film, and was wildly confused by others. As a whole, I think the film began strong. 

The re-introductions to the characters were fantastic, though taking the “historian” thing from Mike in Chapter 1 definitely made Chapter 2 weak in regards to his characterization. He’s a hard character to get right, but it honestly feels a little like they didn’t try, and just used him to progress the story. I could continue, but that is a whole separate Mike Essay. Bev, Ben, Richie, and Eddie were all fantastic. Eddie in particular was taken in a slightly more aggressive angle than traditional for his character, but it worked very well with the way he was established in Chapter 1, thanks to Jack’s interpretation. Bill was a little bit weaker in some ways, but still at his core Bill Denbrough. I unapologetically LOVE adult Stan, and only regret that due to the story, we don’t get to experience him as much as he deserves in the film.

The return to Derry was great, and I still think that the group dynamics are what make this story shine. 90% of what I loved so much in Chapter 1 was the group dynamics, and they are here in SPADES. The group makes sense together, and the cast did a great job, though Eddie’s constant repetition of the word “fuck” seemed a little unnecessary after the second time in the restaurant scene. However, one thing I think the miniseries did better is establish them as “the lucky seven” - they’re not just the Losers Club; they’re held together by fate, and there’s definitely some supernatural elements to that which are not present in the films, weakening their group connection. This is shown most strongly in their moments of conflict in Chapter 2, especially when they want to leave, because their draw to each other doesn’t seem to be present, at least not in the same capacity. It seems weird to feel let down by this considering my next point, but it is what it is.

Some may disagree here, but… I really dislike the decision to include the ritual of Chud in the movie. I disliked it in the book as well, as I think that it unnecessarily complicates things and turns this horror story into a surreal sci-fi story in a way that doesn’t always mesh well. King does both sci-fi and horror well, but I’ve always felt the crossover in IT was off somehow. Also, the lack of connection with this to the first film makes the ritual of Chud seem even weirder in Chapter 2. Mike’s characterization with this gets… odd… and its inclusion is very confusing. I actually said “what the hell are they doing” in theaters when Mike introduces this with Bill. That’s how weird it was for me. My biggest problem was that it makes Chapter 2 a sharp departure from Chapter 1, and failing to achieve the cohesion that the miniseries had is a huge downer for me, considering that the IT reboot is an improvement to the miniseries in so many other ways.

In comparison to the book and miniseries, I think that it was a bad choice to leave out Audra, as it was good closure for the Billverly plotline. Bill and Bev even kiss in Chapter 2 - and then it is promptly forgotten. I’m not necessarily looking for conflict, but Audra was a huge motivator for Bill, and it was much less significant to have his driving force be this random kid that reminds him of Georgie. I get it, but Audra helps show how Bill has grown more strongly and pushes him forward after the final battle. I also wanted a cinematic parallel between Audra and Bev in the sewers and was really disappointed that I didn't get it. I have similar feelings about Tom - yes, Bev obviously leaves him for Ben, but Tom had a huge impact on Bev and her growth. Leaving him out weakens her personal story.

I’m not going to say much about Henry, but the scene where he pops out of the sewers is FANTASTIC. I absolutely did not expect to get that scene (I figured we’d just pop in on him in the hospital), but was glad we did. However, this lost its impact the longer we went on; he was relevant for all of one (1) stabbing of one (1) Edward Kaspbrak, and then died without even putting Mike in the hospital like he was supposed to. A waste of his character.

There are other positives. The connection Adrian and Richie’s stories are great, and I think Richie’s moments of reveal are very well handled. I just wish the Adrian/Eddie parallels had been highlighted as well. Richie and Eddie are fantastic together, and Bev and Richie are also sweet as hell. Besties for the resties, man. In general, I think Richie’s relationship with the Losers is the strongest writing in terms of group dynamics. Putting aside his feelings for Eddie - which do a fantastic job of fleshing him out and showing how multifaceted his character is - he is the one Loser who has strong ties to every other character. Bev’s relationships with Mike and Eddie are weak, Ben’s most relevant relationship is to Beverly, Bill’s most relevant relationship is Mike - you see where I’m going with this. Only Richie’s writing showed the importance of all his group relationships, though some were stronger than others.

Almost every individual scene with the Losers and Pennywise are very enjoyable. The moments where their personal motivations and fears shine are truly the best in the film. While there were some design issues that disappointed me in terms of IT terrorizing them, their stories are great - the apartment scene with Beverly is still poignant, and Bill’s revelation about the day of Georgie’s death made me a little emotional. I’ve already mentioned this in general terms, but the arcade scene with Richie is fantastic.

As a whole, there is a lot of love here, and so much to enjoy. The script writers and the director worked hard on this film, and they tried to do a lot with it - just maybe too much, which caused problems with flow and tone as a whole.

Visuals & Horror

I love horror - I could go on all day about how it’s the best genre. As such, I have a lot of feelings about the horror elements in this film. 

I already mentioned how the ritual of Chud/Sci-Fi elements weaken the horror - in truth, the horror elements were already weak. As a result, sci-fi elements distract from what already has flaws. There are two major categories for this discussion: subtlety and design.

In terms of subtlety, a majority of Chapter 2 was basically hitting you over the head with a Pennywise-shaped hammer. There were jumpscares everywhere, and they were rarely impactful ones. How many times did we get a “Pennywise chomps down on somebody” moment? I was totally engrossed in Adrian’s scene at the beginning, but when Pennywise just takes a bite out of him and it ends, I was honestly disappointed. I do realize this is book canon, but there is something about the presentation in the book - the precise moving of Adrian’s arm, the bite, the smile, the cracking of his ribs - that is dulled in the movie for a lack of a better term. There is just something about this death that fails to hit home. Maybe it’s because Pennywise is more or less out in the open, or maybe because in the book, the bullies see It, too, making it a surreal moment that no one believed except those who were there.

As a whole, the movie has plenty of gore but little suspense. I think I had more interest the less I knew about how exactly people died. Eventually you get sick of the chomping - the unknown is more frightening than a monster with a predictable attack pattern. The missing kids. Betty Ripsom’s shoe and lack of explanation. Patrick’s fade to black. These things made Chapter 1 unsettling, but scenes like Victoria’s death had no other elements other than being bitten to death by Penywise, and that was predictable. 

For an example of what could have been in terms of subtlety, I can honestly say that I was more creeped out by “Mrs. Kersh” slinking around in the background of Beverly’s old apartment than I was by the old woman monster. For what it's worth, the way these monsters move is INCREDIBLE, especially so the more humanoid they are. I love the body language and movements. The earliest example is the headless boy in Chapter 1; the jerking limbs really emphasize their inhumanity, and it still works in this film (Mrs. Kersh at the end of the hall, Betty Ripsom’s legs, etc). This, with the use of humans and their subtle shift to the unnatural in the films, was much stronger than the larger monsters in Chapter 2. 

Another strength is the background details that you might miss. The librarian staring at Ben as he reads about the Ironworks explosion in Chapter 1 is a great example of this, as is Mrs. Kersh peeking her head out of the kitchen in Chapter 2. I would have rather had more small scares like this, rather than the reliance on jumpscares. The pomeranian monster behind the “Not Scary At All” door is essentially just that, and I was WILDLY unimpressed by it.

Returning to the focus of the film, Pennywise the clown is a great villain, but a lot of Its appeal is that It shifts into whatever scares you most. In the first film, this is done well - the painting lady, the leper, the headless boy, and even the way it shifts in the battle at the end. The strength in these forms is that you never know what to expect - and neither do the Losers. Each new nightmare looks and behaves differently. The flute dropping from the painting lady’s hands to announce her presence, the dropped eggs in the library scene… everything about the leper. Even the miniseries did this variety well (the werewolf, the shower scene with Eddie, Mrs. Kersh, etc)

Yet, in part 2, we get… two extra monsters. Which is fair - we already have plenty of material - but they both have the same style of warped features and aesthetic. I think creepy naked old Mrs. Kersh would have been a more disturbing visual than old lady monster turned out to be. Sometimes less is more. Clowns are creepy because they have almost-not-quite-human features… the same can be said of effective monsters (look at the leper, for example, or the painting lady). 

Pennywise in general and Its overreliance on Its clown persona weakens the effect. Eventually, Its presence becomes “oh, there’s the clown again,” especially considering that Its attack pattern has become so predictable. Is It going to drag me into the darkness? Is It going to manipulate me into hurting my friends? Is It going to do some other scary thing to me? No, he’s going to take a bite out of me. Not awesome, but certainly not the Pennywise of the novel or even of the miniseries, whose horror came from the fact that no one knew what happened when you disappeared - or when parts of you reappeared.

There were too many instances where the horror was all about jumpscares and theatrics. Pennywise is all about theatrics, I know, but It went from eldritch horror to dramatic murder clown in this film. In the book, Pennywise is extra as hell, so I wouldn’t be angry if that was the angle taken for the films - however, that is not what was established in Chapter 1, and isn’t actually what is achieved in Chapter 2. If we are going for a more serious, darker tone for Pennywise, I would prefer the eldritch horror we saw more strongly in Chapter 1.

Tone

This is the hardest category to explain well, because a lot of this is my personal impression of the film, but I’ll do my best. As a whole, the movie does not flow well, especially connected to Chapter 1, and this is largely because of tone. Some scenes shift too abruptly or push too hard, and I feel as though the writers were trying to capture the same charm and attitude that Chapter 1 achieved with the kids, but struggled because they aren’t kids anymore. The balance between gritty horror and charm is harder with adults, but this is something the miniseries excelled at compared to Chapter 2. In the miniseries, you never feel like you’re watching a new film when it switches to the present day with the adults. In IT Chapter 2, though the movie and story are meant to be a continuation, it feels more distant, like a sequel that doesn’t quite achieve the same mood.

I’ve said that the group dynamics of the Losers really shines in these films - however, it’s also a major problem in Chapter 2, because there are several times where the writers sacrificed the integrity and tone of a scene to fit in some banter. I love the banter, okay. I’m all about it. The banter in the IT movies is my favorite banter that I’ve seen in a fictional friend group, and yes, I’m including Stranger Things and classics like The Breakfast Club or the Goonies. However, when it’s ruining an otherwise impactful scene, it feels wasteful and disruptive. 

A good example is the scene with Richie and Eddie at the doors in the caves. This scene is fantastic - it’s funny without being a gag, and it showcases the brilliance of RichieandEddie. However - and this is a big however - every other Loser’s individual scene is dramatic and dark - tonally appropriate. Richie and Eddie, however, have their moment melding humor with some jumpscares, and though the scene is great on paper, it makes no damn sense compared to the tone of the rest of the damn sequence. There is no logical room for comedic relief here, and it was jarring, no matter how much I enjoyed the scene itself. Tonally, Richie’s one-liners in Chapter 1 made more sense, and the script of Chapter 1 did a much better job ensuring that those tiny breaks in tension do not disrupt the scene or atmosphere. I cannot say that about certain elements in Chapter 2.

The Losers work very well together, but they also have a tendency to get chaotic enough to break the atmosphere. In the book, there is a lot of quiet horror amongst the Losers Club that is disrupted in Chapter 2 by the multiple scenes where they just scream over each other during crucial moments (such as the scene in Jade of the Orient). The quiet fear and understanding amongst the Lucky Seven that made them such a dynamic group of protagonists just doesn't exist here. Every quiet moment is a moment for arguing or freaking out here, and it got tiring, especially when we went right back to individual reflection and exploration after. I use the term “quiet” here quite a bit, but I’m not sure how else to express the atmosphere I’m talking about. Hopefully the point gets across.

This may just be personal preference - I really enjoy subtle horror, as I’ve said. The moments where the Losers watch and take in the terror as it unfolds are important moments and are lacking in Chapter 2. I can’t empathize with the screaming and freaking out, but the dawning horror and realization of what’s happening puts me right in their shoes. Beverly’s slow realization when she’s staring at the picture of “Mrs. Kersh” and her “father” is a moment like this, to put it in context. 

Even more so than the Losers’ attitudes is the lack of the “dawning horror” vibe in the film at large. It is not meant to be an action film, and yet Chapter 2 is constantly go-going. The action is in places more akin to a slasher than the slower supernatural horror this story is meant to be. Chapter 1, with its slow reveals and strengthening group dynamics, hit the intended mood better, and seems further separated from Chapter 2 as a result.

Chapter 1 did a great job with balance - it knew when it was appropriate for the funnies, and how to shift that into the horror elements seamlessly. It also did a great job throwing in Richie’s one liners without ruining the balance of the scene, but Chapter 2 had several instances where it took those quick Richie moments and turns the focus entirely on him, breaking up scenes in a jarring way. An even more disruptive example is the “Richie said it best last time” bit before they entered Neibolt. The entire scene shut down for Richie’s moment, and it ruined the suspense of what could have been a really nice parallel to Chapter 1. We didn’t need the tension broken in many of these instances, and it was difficult to go back and forth. The focus on Richie is because of the positive fan response to his character, which is well deserved in my opinion. However, this could have been done better. 

Tonally, Pennywise’s script also came on too strong. The Pennywise we know and love is a lurker, manipulating humans and taking other forms rather than doing all the dirty work directly. Chapter 2 has moments of this, but more often has Pennywise as an aggressively taunting antagonist. It becomes loud and exaggerated. Part of this can be attributed to rising tension as the Losers return to finish It off, but Its dialogue is hammier than I expected. It’s become almost petty - and not to needle at the Losers, but more because It’s bitter and childish. I don’t know if it’s too much to use the term “eldritch horror” again, but I don’t know how else to describe what we were set up for with Chapter 1 and let down on in Chapter 2.

As a whole, I felt like the film was stitched together in places. After Chapter 1, I felt that I had just had an experience, but after Chapter 2, I actually looked at my best friend and said “I liked it, but I’m not sure what just happened.”

Let it be clear that I love Chapter 2, and will happily rewatch it many times in the future, but I do think that compared to Chapter 1, it is a far weaker film overall. You can watch them together for a similar experience to the miniseries, but it will be less cohesive and will feel like it fell apart a bit the longer it went on. I don’t fault the writers for this entirely, as the second half of this story is a daunting undertaking, but I think removing the sci-fi elements with the ritual of Chud and tightening down the horror aspects/tone would have made this a stronger continuation of Chapter 1. 

[x0401x]

not to sound harsh but tsurune's seiya has always seemed kinda boring and annoying, and kaito seems to be hysterical, not like the regular characters having anger issues/being over emotional(especially after the last ep), and the anime makes absolutely no effort to explain anything behind that kind of behaviour. so i'm wondering how they were portrayed in the novel and whether they were the same ppl they're in the anime. maybe it's just me seeing them that way so sorry in advance

It's okay, Anon. And sorry for taking long to reply. This is a bit complicated to answer.

I'll be honest with you: the anime doesn't make any effort to explain their behavior because there's no reason for it. KyoAni has been showing since the beginning that they're torn between canon and their own original content. It feels like they use mostly their own visions of how the characters should be rather than depicting them for what they really are, and only drop a few hints of canon when they come to a point where they'd be changing the story far too much if they continued pushing original content onto the story. It's inconsistent and many things are left unexplained due to it. Not just about the storyline but also about the characters, who have been reduced to stereotypes of their positions in the line-up. I think this problem is especially prominent in anime!Seiya, so I'll start with Kaito.

I totally agree with you that he's being hysterical in the anime. I think this isn't even up for debate. He literally yells in every episode he appears, orders everyone around as if he's the captain and overall acts prickly in completely uncalled-for moments.

Novel!Kaito isn't like that. He's actually pretty pure-hearted, which is why he gets heated from time to time. If anything, his problem isn't what the anime is trying to sell. It's not that he doesn't care about the rest as long as the results show. Instead, he cares too much about every little detail, and this is where he becomes overbearing. He does long for teammates, yet he fears not reaching the best results with them. But he's rational and observant. He's good at grasping the true nature of people and has sound judgment and intuition, so the conflicts that have him at the center are surprisingly easy to resolve.

This bitch ain't empty; he's too full.

Kaito is also good at taking care of others. He's always doing things for Nanao basically because he's too nice at the core, and he's pretty weak to dealing with the people he acknowledges or is close to. For example, his threats are always empty when they're directed at Masaki, and he always obeys Seiya no matter what his state of mind is. This part of him is actually more important than the anime gave credit for, because of Seiya, specifically. He's always looking after everyone and wears himself out a lot worrying about Minato, and the one who looks after him is normally Kaito.

And while we're at it, I must add that he's... strangely possessive of Seiya. I say strangely because don't know if this is supposed to be a character trait of his or if it's just with Seiya, but so far, he's been the only character who has made Kaito manifest this side of him. It happens fairly often.

Other than this, Kaito is an absolute bow nerd. He's far more knowledgeable than he seems, and the way he stans Masaki is different. It's less obsession and more credibility, I'd say. Kaito is very down to Earth and takes what he learns seriously. He doesn't buy fights with Kirisaki, doesn't get fixated on bow-turning and doesn't yell at every opportunity.

As for Seiya, he's one of the most complex characters in the Tsurune novel, in my opinion. He's extremely serious and calculating, yet he ironically is always making plans for the sake of very sentimental motives. He's got this strong sense of righteousness that often seems to remind him of what's fair, so he burdens himself with things that are sometimes completely unnecessary but are what you'd expect from a person of ridiculously strong morals.

I haven't really seen the anime display this, but Seiya is a great leader. Other than clearly being the most responsible of the group, he also holds authority amongst the members. You'd normally expect this from an outgoing character, but Seiya has a strong sense of presence in the club. When he speaks, they listen.

It's not like this is written in the novel anywhere, but he also strikes me as someone who hates not having the upper hand in any situation. Not exactly that he's a sore loser, because he can stand defeat, since he's a realist who obviously knows that he is humanly imperfect. What he apparently can't handle very well is disadvantage. He can get really petty when feeling offended or devalued in any way, and his words drip with venom whenever he gets angry. The flame of rage in this little bastard burns blue and it gives nasty-ass burns. I think he only loses to Eisuke in that aspect. He lets the salt show when he argued with Minato and through his habit of declaring that he will "deliver punishment" to whoever rubs him on the wrong spot. But even more often than the aforementioned, he lets it show when sassing the hell out of Kaito whenever Kaito hits bull's-eye regarding the shit he tries so hard to hide.

As you can see, they're very different from their animated counterparts. The stereotypes about their character archetypes are sometimes maintained, sometimes turned upside-down, and that's what makes them interesting. (Also, I don't know if you were able to tell that they sort of complement each other, but the author ain't trying to hide it at all.)

I fucking love these kids.

[thecomicsnexus]

Jimmy Olsen, Superman's Pal, Brings Back the Newsboy Legion!

SUPERMAN’S PAL, JIMMY OLSEN #133 OCTOBER 1970 BY JACK KIRBY, AL PLASTINO AND VINCE COLLETTA

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC WIKIA)

Jimmy Olsen is paired with the new Newsboy Legion, the sons of the original boy heroes plus Flippa-Dippa, a newcomer, to investigate the Wild Area, a strange community outside of Metropolis. 

The boys are given a super-vehicle called the Whiz Wagon for transport. When Clark Kent shows concern for Jimmy, Morgan Edge, owner of Galaxy Broadcasting and the new owner of the Daily Planet, secretly orders a criminal organization called Inter-Gang to kill him. But Kent survives the attempt, and later hooks up with Jimmy and the Newsboy Legion in the Wild Area. 

The youths have met the Outsiders, a tribe of young people who live in a super-scientific commune called Habitat, and have won leadership of the Outsiders' gang of motorcyclists. Jimmy and company go off in search of a mysterious goal called the Mountain of Judgment, and warn Superman not to stop them.

THE BRONZE AGE OF COMICS

The Bronze Age retained many of the conventions of the Silver Age, with traditional superhero titles remaining the mainstay of the industry. However, a return of darker plot elements and story lines more related to relevant social issues, such as racism, drug use, alcoholism, urban poverty, and environmental pollution, began to flourish during the period, prefiguring the later Modern Age of Comic Books.

There is no one single event that can be said to herald the beginning of the Bronze Age. Instead, a number of events at the beginning of the 1970s, taken together, can be seen as a shift away from the tone of comics in the previous decade.

One such event was the April 1970 issue of Green Lantern, which added Green Arrow as a title character. The series, written by Denny O'Neil and penciled by Neal Adams, focused on "relevance" as Green Lantern was exposed to poverty and experienced self-doubt.

Later in 1970, Jack Kirby left Marvel Comics, ending arguably the most important creative partnership of the Silver Age (with Stan Lee). Kirby then turned to DC, where he created The Fourth World series of titles starting with Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen #133 in October 1970. Also in 1970 Mort Weisinger, the long term editor of the various Superman titles, retired to be replaced by Julius Schwartz. Schwartz set about toning down some of the more fanciful aspects of the Weisinger era, removing most Kryptonite from continuity and scaling back Superman's nigh-infinite—by then—powers, which was done by veteran Superman artist Curt Swan together with groundbreaking author Denny O'Neil.

The beginning of the Bronze Age coincided with the end of the careers of many of the veteran writers and artists of the time, or their promotion to management positions and retirement from regular writing or drawing, and their replacement with a younger generation of editors and creators, many of whom knew each other from their experiences in comic book fan conventions and publications. At the same time, publishers began the era by scaling back on their super-hero publications, canceling many of the weaker-selling titles, and experimenting with other genres such as horror and sword-and-sorcery.

The era also encompassed major changes in the distribution of and audience for comic books. Over time, the medium shifted from cheap mass market products sold at newsstands to a more expensive product sold at specialty comic book shops and aimed at a smaller, core audience of fans. The shift in distribution allowed many small-print publishers to enter the market, changing the medium from one dominated by a few large publishers to a more diverse and eclectic range of books.

JACK KIRBY

In 1968 and 1969, Joe Simon was involved in litigation with Marvel Comics over the ownership of Captain America, initiated by Marvel after Simon registered the copyright renewal for Captain America in his own name. According to Simon, Kirby agreed to support the company in the litigation and, as part of a deal Kirby made with publisher Martin Goodman, signed over to Marvel any rights he might have had to the character.

At this same time, Kirby grew increasingly dissatisfied with working at Marvel, for reasons Kirby biographer Mark Evanier has suggested include resentment over Lee's media prominence, a lack of full creative control, anger over breaches of perceived promises by publisher Martin Goodman, and frustration over Marvel's failure to credit him specifically for his story plotting and for his character creations and co-creations. He began to both write and draw some secondary features for Marvel, such as "The Inhumans" in Amazing Adventures volume two, as well as horror stories for the anthology title Chamber of Darkness, and received full credit for doing so; but in 1970, Kirby was presented with a contract that included such unfavorable terms as a prohibition against legal retaliation. When Kirby objected, the management refused to negotiate any contract changes. Kirby, although he was earning $35,000 a year freelancing for the company, subsequently left Marvel in 1970 for rival DC Comics, under editorial director Carmine Infantino.

Kirby spent nearly two years negotiating a deal to move to DC Comics, where in late 1970 he signed a three-year contract with an option for two additional years. He produced a series of interlinked titles under the blanket sobriquet "The Fourth World", which included a trilogy of new titles — New Gods, Mister Miracle, and The Forever People — as well as the extant Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen. Kirby picked the latter book because the series was without a stable creative team and he did not want to cost anyone a job. The three books Kirby originated dealt with aspects of mythology he'd previously touched upon in Thor.

 The New Gods would establish this new mythos, while in The Forever People Kirby would attempt to mythologize the lives of the young people he observed around him. The third book, Mister Miracle was more of a personal myth. The title character was an escape artist, which Mark Evanier suggests Kirby channeled his feelings of constraint into. Mister Miracle's wife was based in character on Kirby's wife Roz, and he even caricatured Stan Lee within the pages of the book as Funky Flashman. The central villain of the Fourth World series, Darkseid, and some of the Fourth World concepts, appeared in Jimmy Olsen before the launch of the other Fourth World books, giving the new titles greater exposure to potential buyers. The Superman figures and Jimmy Olsen faces drawn by Kirby were redrawn by Al Plastino, and later by Murphy Anderson. 

Kirby later produced other DC series such as OMAC, Kamandi, The Demon, and Kobra, and worked on such extant features as "The Losers" in Our Fighting Forces. Together with former partner Joe Simon for one last time, he worked on a new incarnation of the Sandman. Kirby produced three issues of the 1st Issue Special anthology series and created Atlas The Great, a new Manhunter, and the Dingbats of Danger Street.

Kirby's production assistant of the time, Mark Evanier, recounted that DC's policies of the era were not in sync with Kirby's creative impulses, and that he was often forced to work on characters and projects he did not like. Meanwhile, some artists at DC did not want Kirby there, as he threatened their positions in the company; they also had bad blood from previous competition with Marvel and legal problems with him. Since he was working from California, they were able to undermine his work through redesigns in the New York office.

REVIEW

If you are a ninenties creature like me, you remember all these concepts very well, because they came back in the form of Cadmus in the superman titles of the “triangle” era. This is proof that Kirby left a big legacy on more than one company. It is sometimes hard to tell where Kirby starts and where other writers come in. It is hard to tell on his Marvel work at least (and Stan Lee would often take credit for Kirby’s work). So the Fourth World is a good place to check on the real Jack Kirby. Away from Joe Simon, away from Stan Lee.

Now, about this issue. As I said, I knew most of these things from the 90′s Superman titles (that was also the last time Jimmy Olsen mattered). But I have to imagine what it was like to new readers... Jimmy Olsen readers in particular, that a few months ago were reading about Superman trying to prevent Jimmy (an adult) from being adopted. I also have to have in mind that comic-book readers were probably very aware of who Jack Kirby was. The sixties were pretty much dominated by Marvel, and a big part of that success was because of Kirby. But, as I said before, Stan Lee would take the media and take credit for everything. So I am not sure how aware casual readers were with Jack Kirby.

If they weren’t, by this issue they probably were, as DC did a lot of fanfare about the fact that Kirby was coming to DC. Some people compared Bendis coming to DC to this period of time in particular. While there are similarities, it is too early too judge Bendis legacy at this point in time.

The story in this issue is ok. There are a lot of characters and plots being introduced. It’s the first appearance of Morgan Edge, the Wild Area, the Outsiders, the Newsboy Legion (Junior) and other concepts. It is important to remark that this Newsboy Legion is not the golden age version of that group. They are the sons of the originals (and they look pretty much the same... and dress the same). Flip is a bit weird, though. I am pretty sure he doesn’t need the scuba kit on all the time. I will be reviewing the original Newsboy Legion in the golden age reviews.

The art is better than the usual Kirby style, but as it was said above, Al Plastino redrew Superman and Jimmy’s faces. This was common practice at DC, as they didn’t want their most emblematic characters changing too much from issue to issue.

I give this issue a score of 8

[copperinland]

Deceit, Desire, and the 1980s

           Excess, greed, and apathy are words that are equally relevant in describing America in the 1980s as well as Girardian concepts persecution and mediated desire. The application of two of Rene Girard’s books, The Scapegoat and Deceit, Desire, and the Novel with American Psycho, Wallstreet, and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, will prove that the core of these films is rooted in significantly older psychologies -- though Rene Girard would contest this term -- than the contemporary interpretations offer. My argument is that beneath the satire, exposure, and portraiture lies novelistic-mediated desire and elements of mythic persecution.

           Definitives are seldom found in nature, and the same is true of a definitive categorization of mediated desire. Several of the implementations by the old masters of the novel, Dostoyevsky; Stendhal; and Cervantes, are different forms of mediated desire and contain idiosyncratic differences among them, but all are demonstrated through the structural model of the triangle (Girard 2).

           Girard offers the triangle because it provides a spatial mode of thinking when comparing and contrasting elements of a story. He acknowledges on the second page of Deceit, Desire, and the Novel that all stories can be described with a straight line, from the subject (protagonist), and the object of desire. The object of desire can be anything, and often, anyone: primarily women. What Girard’s triangular model of mediated desire does is introduce a mediator that hovers over the straight line of subject and object and acts as the interpreter of desire. Only the great novelists can articulate this relation according to Girard.

           Stendhalian vanity is perhaps the most easily recognizable connection to the culture of the 1980s because it is centered around a protagonist that Girard labels the vaniteux (Girard 6). Stendhal demonstrates vanity through terms like “copying” and “imitating” and it is the latter that draws the most attention. “A vaniteux will desire any object so long as he is convinced that it is already desired by another person whom he admires.” (Girard 7). This quote would suffice as a summary of Patrick Bateman’s character profile in American Psycho. The following sentence further connects Bateman as a modern vaniteux by including, “The mediator here is a rival, brought into existence as a rival by vanity, and that same vanity demands his defeat.” (Girard 7). This firmly establishes an idea for Bateman’s mediator, but that will be covered later.

           Firstly, it is essential to detail the aspects of Patrick Bateman that situate him as a vaniteux, despite the description fitting so accurately. Patrick is a vessel; he states in his opening monologue that there is no Patrick Bateman, only an idea. He can only exist as a reflection of others’ perceived desire. He is capable only of wanting and imitating those around him. One of the primary objects that Patrick pursues throughout the film is a reservation at Dorsia, first for the status that comes with being able to get one and secondly because of Paul Allen’s assumed ability to get one. “Humiliation, Impotence, and Shame” are terms that can be interchanged with obstacle (Girard 178). Girard quotes from one of Denis De Rougemont’s books, Love in the Western World, and tells the reader that, “Desire should be defined as a desire of the obstacle.” Patrick desires the obstacle of obtaining the elusive reservation put in place initially by his circle of friends which mention it among their group, but Patrick’s desire is amplified when he discovers that Paul Allen supposedly frequently gets tables at Dorsia and this establishes Allen as a rival to Patrick. Allen as determined the obstacle for Patrick to pursue, it is the most serious obstruction (Girard 179). Passion intensifies throughout the film at this point, even after a modern twist to Stendhalian vanity in which the subject defeats his mediator.

           Two primary forms of mediation exist among all of the novelists’ desires, and they are external and internal. These terms are used to demonstrate proximity between the subject and mediator. External mediation exists when the subject is so far removed from the mediator that their realities cannot or would be unlikely to interact. Metaphysical desire falls into this category because a good example of external mediation is the Muslim and Mohammed or any follower of religion and cult. The novelistic example used by Girard is Don Quixote by Cervantes. The opposing side of the spectrum is internal mediation in which the spiritual distance between subject and mediator is close enough for the two spheres of possibilities to “penetrate” one other (Girard 9). Internal mediation is where rivalry begins and is the type that best describes American Psycho. The entire film revolves around class symbols such as fashion, real estate, and rank; the movie embodies physicality. Patrick is only able to imitate what he sees; he is incapable of reciprocating any emotion. He doesn’t desire to be any particular person, only to possess what others have.

           Girard says that the hero of internal mediation, or anti-hero in Patrick Bateman’s case, is careful not to have his imitations known, he carefully guards them (Girard 10). Patrick’s plots of murder and social climbing are never uttered to anyone; he does not even acknowledge them to himself through monologue. Girard explains why this is:

In the quarrel which puts him in opposition to his rival, the subject reverses the logical and chronological order of desires in order to hide his imitation. He asserts that his own desire is prior to that of his rival; according to him, it is the mediator who is responsible for the rivalry. (Girard 11)

Patrick kills out of hatred only in the murder of Paul Allen. He is subsequently the sole character that Patrick considers to be equal to, or worse, better than. He takes careful note of Allen’s successes and possessions: the Fisher account, the reservation at Dorsia, and his business card. These empty symbols elicit in Patrick two opposing feelings, that of “submissive reverence” and “the most intense malice” which constitute the passion of hatred (Girard 10).

           American Psycho as a film fits neatly within all of Stendhalian vanity because it too works to persuade the viewer that, “the values of vanity, nobility, money, power, [and] reputation only seem concrete.” (Girard 18). Mary Harron works from the source material written by Bret Easton Elis which depicts exceptional vapidity among members of significant affluent status. Patrick Bateman is in possession of all of these things, yet he simply isn’t there. The film shows the audience the danger of a perversely inflated ego, the disassociation between the wealthy and the poor as fellow human beings. There is nothing concrete about Patrick Bateman nor among any of his friends, save for Bryce who seems to have some investment in politics and social issues. It is he who at the end of the film remarks to the group about Reagan’s ability to lie in the face of American people, he is about to make a mention of what is inside Reagan’s false exterior, and Patrick intercedes:

But it doesn’t matter. There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, The Vicious and The Evil, all the mayhem that I have caused and my utter indifference to it, I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis. My punishment continues to elude me, and I gain no further knowledge of myself. No new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing.

Sadism is indubitably a large section of Patrick’s character, but the finishing monologue introduces to the audience the closest Patrick could ever come to admitting his role as the masochist. In “Masochism and Sadism,” the eighth chapter of Deceit, Desire, and the Novel, Girard discusses the mediator and subject as Master and Slave respectively (Girard 176). These terms are more in line with external mediation rather than internal, but Girard also explains how a hero of internal mediation can eventually fall into external mediation. Recall that the difference between the two is one of spiritual distance between mediator and subject, therefore, if the mediator grows closer in a story centered in external mediation, then the desire will transform to one of internal mediation and vice versa. American Psycho performs this change at the time of Paul Allen’s murder, which is undoubtedly the most important portion of the film regardless of analysis applied. It is with the death of his rival, the overcoming of the obstacle chosen by his mediator, that Patrick Bateman is able to walk among his own Gods; we will see something similar with Wallstreet later. It is here that Patrick’s mediation is further away, more abstract, and he is even more tortured as a result. “Metaphysical desire always ends in enslavement, failure, and shame.” Patrick elects to be tortured with these tools earlier in the film, he tolerates Paul Allen’s denigration of him, calling Patrick a loser and so on, because has a hero, or rather a victim, of internal mediation, these are the terms that the masochist must accept in desiring objects through a mediator so close in proximity. Patrick deifies Paul, and it is after the acknowledgment of this that Patrick acts. He becomes aware of the connection between his desire and what it truly is, that of Paul’s. Girard says that this is the defining point of the masochist, he is aware of the machinations of mediated desire and endures it (Girard 182). The difference lies in Patrick’s acting upon the structure he assigned himself to rather than the traditional Stendhalian hero who lives to serve his master.

Both the fiction of the film Wall Street and the reality that inspired it are rife with examples that fit into, “Men Become God’s in the Eyes of Each Other.” This chapter focuses on desire as articulated by Proust and Dostoyevsky with the latter’s implementation more relevant to Wall Street. To say that a connection between Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment and Wall Street is a dramatic understatement. Stanley Weiser, the film’s co-writer, and Oliver Stone explicitly said to each other about making, “Crime and Punishment on Wall Street.” (Lewis) It is also interesting to note Weiser’s admission that he did not read the entirety of Dostoyevsky’s book and opted for the Cliff Notes version. He says the paradigm of the book would not translate to the story of the film, but the proof is in the finished product. What this admission says is that Weiser and Oliver read the highlights of what makes Dostoyevsky’s work effective: mediated desire.

…Dostoyevsky’s hero dreams of absorbing and assimilating the mediators Being. He Imagines a perfect synthesis of his mediator’s strength with his own ‘intelligence.’ He wants to become the Other and still be himself. (Girard 54)

Bud fits into Girard’s definition of a Dostoyevskian hero nearly perfect. Bud does not covet only Gekko’s office, cars, and women; he wants to be Gekko, filtered through what he deems his own experience. He has the grand delusion that all protagonists of mediated desire have: that what is desired can be obtained. Many different explanations exist that connect the subject to the object and Girard often goes back in forth between whether the subject truly wants the object, if he wants to want, or if he wants to be humiliated. Bud appears to fit into the masochist role. Wall Street begins in external mediation as opposed to American Psycho in which the desire mutated from internal to external.

           Before the discussion of Men and Gods, it is pertinent to speak of Bud’s fantasies and what his concept of self is. Girard says, “The subject must have placed his faith in a false promise from the outside.” (Girard 56) The false promise is metaphysical autonomy. Bud wants to be at the top, where he thinks that decisions are made. He desires to control the desires of other men as Gekko does unto him.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, murderers of all murderers, console ourselves? That which was the holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet possessed has bled to death under our knives. Who will wipe this blood off us? With what water could we purify ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we need to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we not ourselves become gods simply to be worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whosoever shall be born after us - for the sake of this deed he shall be part of a higher history than all history hitherto." (Nietzsche, The Parable of the Madman)

Girard asks, “Why can men no longer alleviate their suffering by sharing it?” (Girard 57) He deems that solitude, a word that predates loneliness, is an allusion just as autonomous desire. A better question more fitting to this paper is, “Why can Bud not realize that his desire is not his own, why can’t he accept that neither he nor Gekko is in intellectual solitude? That they are master and slave?

           The answer is because Bud is trapped in external or metaphysical desire. I included Nietzsche’s declaration of the death of God because it relates to Dostoevsky's work greatly and Bud and Gordon Gekko’s relationship by proxy. Jordan Peterson draws the relationship between Nietzsche and Dostoyevsky as the latter predicting the former. Peterson makes clear that Dostoyevsky was not a nihilist but instead a very astute observer of culture (Peterson 213). He takes time in his argument to speak of Dostoyevsky’s prediction of the horrors of communism and how he was in favor of religion and morals over postmodernism, etcetera; however, what interests me most about this line of thought is the connection back to Wall Street. Gekko is to Nietzsche as Bud is to Dostoyevsky.  

           Gekko grew up in a world abandoned by God, where his father worked himself to an early death and one where he had to become the provider of his own prayers and fill the void. Gekko is revered to by many as a God in many ways, but the best example of praise is when Bud presents to him a cigar as an offering.

…as the gods are pulled down from heaven, the sacred flows over the earth; it separates the individual from all earthly goods… (Girard 62)

Bud sacrifices any possible claim to autonomy by affirming Gekko as his God. Autonomy in the liberal sense is an illusion according to Girard, but the subject does believe it, as many do, as an actuality. Bud cannot look freedom in the face, and as a result, he subjects himself to anguish. (Girard 65)

           Bud’s freedom gradually lessens as he grows closer to his mediator. He is a struggling yuppie in the beginning of the film and is not seeing as much progress as he envisioned. He tries to distance himself from his father and the tradition that he represents, the old Father. The destructive nature of the close interaction between mediator and subject is the driving force of the plot. Bud rises throughout the film to walk along his mediator, hand in hand with God. Bud shows all of the symptoms of a victim of metaphysical desire, much like Patrick Bateman in the latter half of his story. Bud seeks out obstacles which are presented to the audiences as “challenges” and disguise themselves as symptoms of his lust for power. They are instead examples of Bud subjecting himself to humiliation and degradation. He accepts Gekko as his master and God. He grovels beneath him and eats his scraps; he accepts the women he has already used. Girard notes a common theme in Dostoyevsky’s work whose name derives from his novella The Eternal Husband. The eternal husband, Girard’s term, is used in cases such as cuckoldry or latent homosexuality, though it is most commonly in reference to the former. Desire in the Eternal Husband stories is a competitive one, but it also relates back into Sadomasochism and the deifying of man. The story of the novella revolves around a man seeking out the lovers of his dead wife and seemingly befriending one that interests him most. What results is that the seeker finds a new wife and convinces the former lover of his wife to try and take her away from him. The analogy directly traces back to Gekko performing the same kind of play onto Bud. The difference is that the narrator of the novella is actually the mediator of the story, a clever twist. (Girard 46)

             Wall Street is confused when the Eternal Husband is applied. It introduces a symptom of external or metaphysical desire: double mediation. As Bud imitates Gekko and becomes him, Gekko reflects this desire and seeks to build a complete copy of himself. The film makes a point to relay that Gekko sees himself in Bud several times throughout and is the most explicit at the end with Gekko’s immense disappointment at the end of their reciprocated desires. This is common when mediation becomes a rivalry. Bud becomes the equal that he himself pursued from the beginning, but he is not yet the perfect copy made out of vanity by Gekko, and the result is conflict. Darien occupies various roles in the film. She is more of an indirect object, which sounds intensely misogynist but is nonetheless true. Gekko uses her as a gift to Bud, but this is not a gift given out of kindness; Gekko offers her to Bud in a mimetic way as the cigar was offered to him, but with vastly differing intention. The intention can be best described with the following quote from De Rougemont, “One reaches the point of wanting the beloved to be unfaithful so that he can court her again.” The film is a very complex retelling of the Dostoyevskian method. Characters shed and share characteristics without warning and some gain more and more over the course of the plot. Darien begins as an offering made by Gekko so that he can desire her again later and expose Bud as a masochist that is subservient to him, and what complicates her role is that the result of Bud’s awareness of his role is that he persecutes her instead. Girard discusses how mimetic rivalry ends in conflict and how it is resolved in a video interview with Hoover Institution on YouTube. The audience may see Darien as the conflicting object which directs both of the main characters’ desires, but she is instead the scapegoat that is used to resolve, though only momentarily, Bud’s anger with Gekko. She does not appear again in the film, which may suggest that Gekko has also completed his use for her. If this is the case, then she stands as a failed resolution through scapegoating, and this leads to the destruction of the mediator. Girard says that mimetic rivalry is inescapable in society and the only way for communal life to persevere is for the opponents to choose a scapegoat to explain their apparent differences and ardor. If the scapegoat fails, the result is war. Darien was an attempt by Gekko to soften future contempt by Bud in the hopes that Bud would fall blindly into masochistic desire and continue to serve him. The masochistic hero is, however, a much more lucid and dangerous kind of subject. Bud slowly learns over the course of the film that he has been used; he reflects on his humiliation and sees the structure that he had placed himself in and on his freedom that he sacrificed to pursue the ideal.

The masochistic vision is never independent. It is always in opposition to a rival masochism which is organizing the same elements into a symmetrical and inverse structure. (Girard 188)

           Of course, desire in terms of this paper cannot exist without at least two participants, but what Girard calls the masochistic vision works in a different way in contrast to what has been discussed previously. The masochistic vision is desire that is in spite. The masochist, “has a grudge against the very spirit of evil; and yet, he does not want to crush the wicked so much as to prove to them their wickedness and his own virtue; he wants to cover them with shame by making them look at the victims of their own infamy.” To see Bud’s reaction to Gekko’s betrayal as revenge is justified, but the prime motivation is not to hurt or destroy Gekko. Bud wants to shame him, to show Gekko that what he has done has negative side effects. Bud wants to surpass his mediator and teach unto him lessons that derive from his own, apparently higher morality. Hatred is observable in Bud’s actions, but he still thinks of himself as morally superior to Gekko and that his string of bad, or immoral decisions, were a result of Gekko’s manipulation. Bud has at the end come to terms with the limit of his autonomy; he recognizes the imminent destruction that comes from mimetic rivalry. This partially undercuts the primary objective of the film’s creators by trying to expose the greed of Wall Street and the culture of the ’80s, but overall it functions in the same way, just through different means.

           Both films discussed have cultural icons within them and were largely successful commercially. They both have comedic elements that produce satire and expose the immense greed and corruption that was prevalent in the time periods of their worlds. There is nothing new to be said about desire as the primary focus of the 1980s, commercially anyway, but there is more to be investigated into the why. The 1980s was an era that was symbolically in regression; it was a reversion to the 1950s, but also much further. Ancient ideas that centered around religion and tradition also brought back the largest faults of human ancestry. Girard says in his interview with Hoover Institution that mimetic desire is man-made, it does not exist in nature. It does not have to be an inevitability, just as persecution and scapegoating need not also. What both films do accurately describe the harm that comes from intense infatuation with the desire of others. There is no escaping it, as referenced earlier, but the level of interest and disassociation with oneself is up to the individual. Human beings that live within a civilization have the responsibility to become good masochists. Ones that know of the triangular structure that we have to live in and acknowledge that no alternative exists wherein a comfortable mode of living is possible. The choice lies in what and who one is her master. Girard would suggest that an abstract thing, such as a conception of the good (i.e., religion) would be a less problematic imitation because there is no chance of interaction or spiritual proximity to the divine to the rational mind. Philosophy can also occupy this role so long as the individual does not confuse the thoughts of others as their own and seek to compare themselves as equals to those whose thoughts have been stolen. More films like these two should be made so that the public can get a better understanding of what and why they want and believe.

[davidmann95]

What would be your DC Starter pack?

I’ve put together equivalent lists for Superman and Batman in the past (and in deference to that I’m leaving them off this list; take Superman: Birthright/All-Star Superman and Batman: Zero Year as what I’d put on here), but this is obviously an entirely different ballgame. DC is BIG, with all manner of different corners and subgenres to it - getting into it as a whole is a pretty substantial undertaking even for those who’re already fans of a handful of given characters. But as before, here’s a set of springboards - 15 this time instead of 10 given the scope of the undertaking - for getting a sense of how DC as a whole works, and what aspects of it you might want to pursue further, almost all of which should be available on Comixology or at a local comic book shop. Two caveats up front though:

* I’m sticking to titles that can claim at least some sort of tangential, secondhand connection to the ‘main’ universe, if even by the absolute slimmest of threads, so I’m not including the likes of Astro City, Transmetropolitan, Preacher, Ex Machina, etc., even though they’ve all been published by DC and absolutely deserve your attention.

* Since this is for prospective new readers, I’m with a singular exception sticking with comics from the mid-1980s or later.

1. The World’s Greatest Superheroes

What it’s about: A group of six oversized all-ages comics by Paul Dini (critically involved with many of the DC family of cartoons, especially the beloved shared universe of shows extending from Batman: The Animated Series to Justice League Unlimited) and Alex Ross; four stories focusing on Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Captain Marvel handling ‘real world’ issues, the Justice League trying to stop a very different kind of global threat than their usual supervillains, and a set of origins for most members of the classic Justice League of America.

Why you should read it: If you’re in the market for a one-stop shop of “what’s the deal with DC Comics?”, then this is as good as you’re gonna get. A set of introductory stories with their biggest icons by proven crowdpleasers, along with a set of storybook-esque explanations for a bunch of their other biggest heroes (at least among the ‘classic’ crowd) to boot.

Further recommendations if you liked it: This is more a “getting your feet wet” example than a direct gateway to other material (especially since most of the all-ages titles I’d suggest following up on this I mentioned in those Superman and Batman starter packs), but it’s notable that Captain Marvel plays such a prominent role in here given how scaled-back his presence has become over the years. He’s terrific when handled properly, and past his original 1940s comics, I’d recommend Shazam!: The Monster Society of Evil, The Multiversity: Thunderworld (while that’s part of a larger series this issue works perfectly well standalone), and Convergence: Shazam! (ditto).

2. DC: The New Frontier

What: In the 1950s the age of heroes seems to have come to an end - most of the Justice Society of America retired following congressional inquiries, Superman and Wonder Woman have grudgingly aligned directly with the United States government so that they can continue operating somewhat unobstructed, and the Bat-Man has gone underground, while human champions such as the Challengers of the Unknown, the Blackhawks, Task Force X, and the Losers now carry the day. But with the dawning of a new era, the first stirrings of a new generation of extraordinary individuals, and the creeping emergence of a new threat, all of America’s heroes must unite to defend and shephard in its future if it is to have any future at all.

Why: A radically different origin for the Justice League set against the backdrop of McCarthy’s America and the beginnings of the space race, it’s largely considered to be the late Darwyn Cooke’s masterpiece, and one that perhaps more than any other story demonstrates the breadth and potential the larger universe offers. It’s a rugged, heartfelt, soaring story of our strive to reach farther and better ourselves in the face of a world that would fight back against that impulse, and one that draws on every corner of the world it’s set in to show old and new fans alike how it comes together as more than the sum of its parts when handled right.

Recommendations: Two of the three main heroes presented here - Flash, Martian Manhunter, and Green Lantern - have quite a stock of classic adventures of their own, which I made some recommendations from here and here (on top of those I’d recommend Tim Seeley’s tenure on Green Lanterns, which just began last week with issue #33). For the beginnings of the “superheroes dealing with Relevant Social Issues” strain of comics that this delves into, there’s the classic Green Lantern/Green Arrow run, which has aged awkwardly but was a seminal moment for DC, and established Green Arrow as he’s known today (who I understand has been doing well in his current Rebirth title under Ben Percy, if you want to pursue him further). And for large-scale DC sagas drawing from across the scope the universe and interrogating the place of superheroes within it, I have to mention Kingdom Come, Mark Waid and Alex Ross’s end-of-days vision for the latter-day Justice League and their world that proved one of the company’s most enduringly popular and influential books.

3. Wonder Woman: Year One

What: When pilot Steve Trevor crash-lands on the hidden island of Themyscira - a mythical paradise where immortal warrior women live in peace and prosperity under the protection of the Greek gods themselves - Diana, daughter of queen Hippolyta, volunteers to escort him back to Man’s World and serve as their ambassador knowing that she may never return. Finding her place in a strange new culture, discovering the depths of her power, and detecting the hand of the gods in mortal affairs, these are the first steps towards a girl fashioned from clay becoming Wonder Woman.

Why: You know who Superman and Batman are, so you should get a decent grasp on the other member of the ‘trinity’ that props up the rest of the universe too, and this is as fine a place to begin with Wonder Woman as it gets thanks to Greg Rucka’s fantastic handle on the character and Nicola Scott’s absolutely gorgeous, iconic artwork. It tells you everything you need to know and shows you everything you expect to see, and it does the best job of it that anyone yet has.

Recommendations: For another take on Diana’s early days and adventures I can’t recommend enough The Legend of Wonder Woman, a recent all-ages take on her origin set in World War II that brings more depth to Paradise Island itself than I’ve seen elsewhere and serves as an at least equally fine introduction; I chose Year One since it’s both contemporary and the current ‘official’ origin. The rest of Greg Rucka’s run here is fine, but a lot of it is essentially cleaning up the larger mythology since Wonder Woman’s background and world had undergone some major revisions in prior years; his original run is what I’d recommend, essentially him handling her as a political drama. Aside from those two, Gail Simone’s run on the character is I believe easily the most universally-beloved modern take on her, and what I’ve read absolutely lives up to that. I do also have to mention her original 1940s adventures, which were bizarrely playful and politically unusual in a way that little else with her has been since. Steve Orlando’s work with her, while segmented, is also among her best.

4.  History of the DC Universe

What: A recording by the woman Harbinger, one of the only survivors of a cosmic crisis that shredded and reassembled reality to recall the full extent of what was lost, detailing the ‘new’ history of humanity from the dawn of civilization to the end of time.

Why: I don’t want to make too many concessions with this list to what’s ‘important’ over what’s good, and large chunks of this are long since out of date anyway. But in terms of getting a sense of the world as a whole, having a basic outline of what’s a big deal and what happened when certainly helps.

Recommendations: If you want more that can give you a sense of the history of the larger world, I’d recommend Flash of Two Worlds! as the introduction of the multiverse, Crisis on Infinite Earths as the (temporary) dissolution of that multiverse and a truly major event that’s still being referred back to, The Multiversity Guidebook which - in spite of some connections back to the main story that’ll only make so much sense without reading the rest of it - outlines the history and current cosmological setup of that multiverse (though even that’s since been upheaved with the official reintroduction of an infinite multiverse around the ‘core’ 52 universes, even if it hasn’t been taking center stage), and DC Rebirth, which sets up and foreshadows most of the big stories happening right now. I’d also suggest trying Supreme: Blue Rose, a pseudo-sequel to Alan Moore’s classic run on Supreme (a book that under his direction was essentially one long riff on DC Comics and Superman in particular) which takes a much heavier and stranger look at a new version of that world from a ground-level perspective, telling the story of what it feels like to live in a universe constantly subject to reboots and revisions in the way DC is.

5. JLA

What: The return to an iconic Justice League lineup under Grant Morrison after years of second and third-stringers, this run pits them against some of the wildest, weirdest, and most definitely BIGGEST threats of their considerable careers, from a new Injustice Gang and Solaris the Tyrant Sun to renegade angels and warring higher-dimensional colors.

Why: The template for 21st century Big Action Superhero Comics, defined by excellent characterization and incredible setpieces, it’s the premiere example DC’s big guns working together alongside allies from across the universe against the worst the universe has to throw out them. A lot of what defines modern DC’s approach to how these characters are supposed to work together and what constitutes a threat to their entire universe traces directly back to here.

Recommendations: In the immediate aftermath of Grant Morrison’s run, Kingdom Come writer (and already part-time fill-in writer on the book) Mark Waid took over with existing artist Howard Porter and The Authority big gun Bryan Hitch, in a run that’s similarly worth your time and in many ways just as influential for its first story, Tower of Babel; you can and probably should collect both runs across JLA Deluxe Edition Volumes 1-6. Speaking of The Authority, both Warren Ellis/Bryan Hitch and Mark Millar/Frank Quitely’s original runs on the team represent the refinement of the widescreen formula JLA pioneered to a brutal science, and Steve Orlando’s handling of series breakout star Midnighter in his own title set in the DCU proper - along with the followup mini Midnighter and Apollo - pushed it even further. Orlando’s gone on to write JLA himself, starring an eclectic lineup led by Batman trying to hang in there against the kind of cosmic horrors the classic model fought back against, and that’s definitely worth your time, as are numerous arcs of JLA Classified (particularly Morrison’s opening that acted as a prequel to his book Seven Soldiers of Victory, Warren Ellis and Jackson Guice’s New Maps of Hell, and Gail Simone and Jose Luis Garcia Lopez’s The Hypothetical Woman). Meanwhile, Christopher Priest and Pete Woods took the Authority’s influence on the team in an entirely different direction with a brief, clever, politically-flavored run. On top of those, I’d suggest Aztek, a short-lived series by Morrison and Millar around the same time as the original JLA that ultimately figured into it, and Geoff Johns and Mike McKone’s Teen Titans, which mixes the broad strokes of the approach with the requisite teen soap opera and yields probably the best take on that group outside the mid-2000s cartoon. Most substantially however is Scott Snyder’s extended Justice League run (with a number of recurring partners, primarily cowriter James Tynion and main artist Jorge Jimenez) spinning out of his Dark Knights: Metal event comic with Greg Capullo, a gleefully sincere supercharged jolt of color to the DCU that takes the best of Morrison’s approach and runs in a completely different direction with it.

6. Tom Strong

What: Born at the turn of the 20th century on the island of Attabar Teru to a pair of scientists and raised in a gravity chamber, the stories’ titular hero was freed in an earthquake that killed his parents and raised by the natives - journeying at 21 to Millennium City to learn of the legacy his parents left for him, he found himself a “science-hero” to the beleaguered metropolis. Now at the dawn of the 21st century, kept in his prime by the mythical goloka root alongside his wife Dhaula, they, their daughter Tesla, steam-powered servant Pneuman, and talking gorilla Solomon still use their wits and skills to defend their home in Millennium, and unknown realms far beyond.

Why: With the recent announcement of the Strong families’ integration into the DCU in some fashion it’s likely these comics are going to be reprinted, and that’s a darn good thing - as far as I’m concerned, they’re the platonic ideal of classic-flavored superhero books. Fun, funny, adventurous and warm-hearted, while it wasn’t intended as part of DC it represents its arguable baseline tone and approach as well as any comic ever has; if this ends up doing it for you, it’s likely to be a gateway to plenty more.

Recommendations: If Tom Strong does it for you, then that’s really a sign that you might be up for older DC titles in general; I made suggestions in that regard for Superman and Batman in their respective starter packs, but I’m also especially inclined to mention the likes of Metamorpho and Legion of Superheroes, alongside other titles you can pick up in DC’s inexpensive black-and-white Showcase Presents reprints (a list of which you can read here). For something more modern with a similar tone, I’d suggest Mark Waid’s 12-issue run on The Brave and the Bold with George Perez and Jerry Ordway, and for more period-piece style heroics with heart, try the currently ongoing DC Bombshells (currently running as Bombshells United).

7. Solo

What: A 12-issue anthology, each stars a beloved artist with whichever collaborators they wish doing whatever they please, the only restriction being that at least one story must involve some permutation of some version of a DC character.

Why: I recommended Tom Strong as representative of the baseline for how DC Comics generally aspires to work; this represents the farthest possible afield territory from said baseline. Treating DC’s biggest names as broad iconographic tools to be shaped and reshaped at a given creators’ whim for the sake of their stories, this is DC as indie comics, and it’s a valuable perspective.

Recommendations: Along with Batman: Black and White, DC’s other big project in this vein was Wednesday Comics, a 12-part set of 15 running stories presented one massive page at a time in the oversized format of Sunday newspaper comics; some of them indisputably stink, but for every one of them there’s at least one fun title and one borderline-masterpiece, and nearly all of them are at least interesting. Another title significantly varying in style and content was Tomorrow Stories, from America’s Best Comics along with Tom Strong and operating in a completely different mode with each story, whether the Eisner-flavored Greyshirt or the Kurtzman-esque shenanigans of First American. And if Solo’s anarchic spirit and artistic variety appeal, I’d also have to give a shout-out to World’s Funnest, where a feud between goofball super-imps Mr. Mxyzptlk and Bat-Mite reaches multiversally catastrophic proportions.

8. Watchmen

What: Set in a 1985 that has significantly diverged from our own - first in the 1930s and 40s with the emergence of costumed crimefighters inspired by comic book heroes, and much more radically in the 1960s with the creation of the world’s one superhuman, the near-omnipotent Doctor Manhattan, who has spent the last two decades changing the technological landscape and securing American interests even as his mind grows more and more detached from any human perspective - Edward Blake is murdered. An investigation by the unhinged vigilante Rorschach uncovers that Blake was the Comedian, one of the only ‘superheroes’ to join with the government rather than be driven into retirement or forced to operate outside the law, and the detective becomes convinced that this is sign of a larger plot against the former costumed community. As the terrible secrets of the one-time crimefighters are unearthed, the question becomes not whether Rorschach is correct or as demented as his one-time comrades believe, but if it matters in the face of a Cold War escalated by Manhattan’s presence into the very real possibility of a nuclear apocalypse.

Why: Reading superhero comics at this point means reckoning with Watchmenone way or another: realistically speaking, if you’re reading this you’ve probably either already read it, already intend to get around to it, or have actively chosen not to. As a meticulous artistic construction it’s the standard by which all other modern comics are measured; as an interrogation of the genre its influence is for better or worse incalculable across the breadth of popular culture as a whole. Even minus the upcoming efforts to somehow merge these characters into the larger structure, there is no comprehensively understanding DC Comics in 2017 or beyond without reading Watchmen.

Recommendations: The most obvious suggestion -  if also by far the most questionable one - is the upcoming Doomsday Clock, the thoroughly unexpected sequel where Doctor Manhattan and likely other figures from this world are revealed as having interacted and tampered with the ‘main’ DC universe, leading to some form of confrontation between Manhattan and Superman and their radically different cosmic viewpoints and representations of the moral nature of the superhero. As far as the structure and ambitions of the comic itself go, you’d likely be better served looking into the likes of Omega Men by Tom King and Barnaby Bagenda (another grimly political and acclaimed superhero comic operating on the unifying structure of the nine-panel grid), Top 10 by Moore and Gene Ha (another ABC title, this one a police procedural in a city where everyone in a superhero, it’s another 12-issue attempt by Moore at showing how superheroes would ‘really’ be using many of the same artistic tricks, but on an altogether wilder and more overtly optimistic wavelength), Miracleman (not a DC title but a book by Moore based on DC characters, and his other seminal superhero ‘deconstruction’ alongside Watchmen of the 1980s), and The Multiversity: Pax Americana (another standalone Multiversity issue, this one stars the Charlton Comics characters that inspired Watchmen’s leads and pushes its concerns and structural tricks even further in a time-bending overview of one man’s life and death that attempts to deconstruct superhero deconstructions themselves). And while not published by DC, Peter Cannon: Thunderbolt was once one of theirs and the inspiration for Ozymandias, and Kieron Gillen and Caspar Wijngaard’s 5-issue series with him is easily one of the best, most fascinating responses to Watchmen of all time.

9. Planetary

EDIT: This list was written prior to allegations made against Warren Ellis. It’s your money, but while I’d still recommend checking the book out of the library - the quality of the work isn’t going to change now that it’s out there in the universe - if you’re looking to pad your bookshelf I might recommend Al Ewing’s El Sombra trilogy in its place.

What: Elijah Snow has spent over a century bearing witness to the world’s hidden wonders and horrors, and now that he’s been recruited by the mysterious Planetary organization he has a chance to make use of that experience. Alongside the invincibly powerful Jakita Wagner and the eccentric technopath The Drummer, they are “mystery archaeologists”, investigating beneath the grim, ‘realistic’ superhero surface of the Wildstorm universe to uncover the buried, wondrous mysteries hiding in its corners, from Kaiju graveyards to lost underground city-ships from beyond the cosmic fields we know. As well as hunting the greatest mystery of all: the force that has conspired to keep these miracles a secret.

Why: Essential to an appreciation of a superhero universe is a well-developed sense of wonder: Planetary built itself on distilling artifacts of 19th and 20th century pop culture (typically by proxy) down to their most essential ideas and iconic values as mysteries to be unveiled, whether 1920s pulp heroes, Godzilla, Sherlock Holmes, 80s and 90s Vertigo comics, James Bond, John Woo revenge flicks, or any of a dozen others, so as to best allow them to be appreciated in that regard. It’s a celebration and reinvigoration of the base genre components that have made up American comics for lifetimes, an articulation of an approach that merges the intimate and grungy with the cosmically fantastic, and a masterwork of one-shot comics storytelling.

Recommendations: The immediate things that come to mind are, well, other Wildstorm comics by Warren Ellis, specifically his original run on Stormwatch where he turned a generic edgy ‘realistic’ superhero black-ops book into a bizarre political sci-fi adventure series with a bloody black wounded heart that later became the far more popular The Authority, and his fascinating relaunch of the universe line in The Wild Storm and assorted titles under the imprint of the same name; I also have to recommend by reputation Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips’ Wildstorm crime comic Sleeper. Also, there’s Wildcats 3.0, which similarly converts a formerly achingly 90s title into a corporate drama as a gaggle of superhumans deal with the obstacles in attempting to provide a boundless energy source.

10. JLA/Avengers

What: When the manipulative Grandmaster and the amoral cosmic seeker Krona decide to settle their titanic dispute via proxy, the greatest superheroes of two worlds find themselves pitted against one another in a conflict that leaves each of their realities’ at stake.

Why: There’s little better way to understand something than through contrast, and that at its core what JLA/Avengers is about: enmeshed within a fantastically written and drawn fanpleasing crossover adventure, easily the best of its kind, is a story on just what it is that separates the worlds of Marvel and its distinguished competition on a basic conceptual level, and how they overcome those barriers just once in the face of an unthinkable threat. Above any other comic, this defines what it is that separates DC superheroes from the rest.

Recommendations: For another exercise in contrast, Jonathan Hickman’s massive Avengers saga critically involves a crossover of its own with DC, at least in spirit, with the volume New Avengers: Perfect World. As the Illuminati (a gathering of many of the Marvel universe’s top minds alongside preeminent experts and political leaders) attempt to rout the threat of the Incursions, destructive collisions between parallel universes that can seemingly only be averted with the prior annihilation of one universes’ Earth, they discover another reality home to a far more morally forthright group of heroes known as the Great Society whose powers match their convictions, and who thus far have saved their world without compromise. But when the Society and the Illuminati find themselves in opposition, will their ideals win out? And if not, what is to become of the Illuminati when they make a choice no man can live with?

11. Jack Kirby’s Fourth World

What: On numerous fronts across the cosmos, a secret war rages - with Jimmy Olsen and Superman investigating the Wild Area alongside the Newsboy Legion, with a group of bizarre teenagers landing on Earth, with a mysterious young man taking up the mantle of the fallen world’s greatest escape artist Mister Miracle, and with the mighty space god Orion arriving on our planet with a mission of direst import. For when the Old Gods died their world was torn asunder into the warring planets of New Genesis and Apokolips, and as the ultimate tyrant Darkseid seeks the utter domination offered by the Anti-Life Equation, the New Gods’ gaze turns to the Earth…

Why: The king of comics’ Jack Kirby’s unfinished masterpiece, the Fourth World Saga - soon to be recollected in a single titanic omnibus as several of the concepts make it into the upcoming Justice League - spans from the slums of Metropolis to universe-shattering wars in epochs long since past. It’s a treatise on youth and free will that’s perhaps the most purely ambitious DC publication of all time in its attempt to create a new myth for our times, and one of the only superhero stories to truly deserve the title of epic in the classical sense. I’ve only had a chance to read a fraction of it myself as of yet, but from that fraction it’s clear it not only has the combined brains and energy of nearly any dozen modern comics, but was and remains one of the most powerful testaments to the potential of the genre ever put to paper. And Superman and Jimmy Olsen fight a planet of horror movie monsters in it so evil it grew devil horns, so you really have no excuse not to take the plunge.

Recommendations: The King contributed plenty of concepts to DC such as the Challengers of the Unknown, the Boy Commandos, and an incarnation of Sandman; most promising if you’re sucked into his Fourth World material would be his other 1970s DC books, The Demon (where the immortal Jason Blood’s spirit is caught in an eternal tug-of-war with the dread Etrigan), OMAC (where Buddy Blank is forcibly conscripted to become the One Man Army Corps and stop the threats of tomorrow from becoming wars that would end the world, by way of punching like seven dudes at once), and Kamandi (where the last boy on Earth struggles to survive a post-apocalyptic wasteland where mutated anthropomorphic animals have long since come to reign supreme). The Fourth World itself has been followed up by numerous creators, usually weakly as they attempt to warp the characters to fit more traditional superheroic archetypes; some exceptions that fit with the King’s vision and ambition include several works by Grant Morrison mentioned above and below, (by what I’ve heard of its reputation) Walter Simonson’s Orion, and the current Mister Miracle by Tom King and Mitch Gerads.

12. Books of Magic

What: Twelve-year-old Timothy Hunter is met by the ‘trenchcoat brigade’ of the Phantom Stranger, Mister E, Doctor Occult, and John Constantine, with an unbelievable prophecy: that he has the potential to become the greatest sorcerer of all time. Taken on a tour over twelve issues of the magical side of the DC universe, Tim will ultimately have to decide whether to turn away from his potential destiny and live a normal life, or accept it knowing the horror of the price that always comes with magic.

Why: A small, self-contained story by the pretty dang beloved Neil Gaiman starring an archetype that many should find themselves familiar with (while Hunter preceded him by a few years and both Gaiman and Rowling have denied any inspiration, many have noted his undeniable similarities to Harry Potter), it’s not exactly the meatiest story, but it serves perfectly for its intended purpose as an introduction to the magical side of the DC universe. If you enjoy this - even if you don’t but could imagine the same tone, aesthetics, and general approach yielding interesting results under a different premise or creators - it may well open the doors to an entirely new set of fantastic comics for you.

Recommendations: Books of Magic is a single branch on a mighty tree of magical DCU books inspired by and connected to one another, appropriately beginning with Alan Moore’s transformative run on Swamp Thing, which itself introduced John Constantine who would go on to a great deal of acclaim in his own title Hellblazer. Swamp Thing in turn beget the titanically popular and influential Sandman, which had its own phenomenal spinoff title in the form of Lucifer. Books of Magic continued as well under different creators, and while only now tangentially connected to DC via Tom Strong, Moore and JH Williams III’s book Promethea is brilliant and very much of the same breed.

13. Flash & Green Lantern: The Brave and the Bold

What: In the years leading up to their deaths (and subsequent resurrections, though they weren’t in effect at the time this story was written), Barry Allen and Hal Jordan were friends through thick and thin. Here, from their early days in the JLA to their twilights, these are six stories showing how that friendship changed and endured over the course of their careers.

Why: Two big things come with big superhero universes: histories, and the relationships that come with them. Both can go wrong, whether in the form of purely continuity-driven comics or soap opera titles driven entirely by the old faithful, but when creators handle them properly they’re an essential part of the magic of the shared world, and few comics are better examples of how to do it right than this.

Recommendations: For starters, this mini is itself a sequel of sorts to JLA: Year One, an origin for the team that while no longer their official history is regardless an excellent character-driven Justice League story. For the culmination of preexisting history being used as a tool for great storytelling, you’re in the market for Starman, extrapolating a D-list superhero lineage into a century-spanning family odyssey (and if you enjoy it, you’ll want to check out James Robinson’s book Golden Age, showing the retirement of the Justice Society in what many consider their definitive story). And Brave and the Bold is in many ways the final gasp of an era of phenomenal 80s and 90s character-driven DC titles, including (both from personal experience and shining reputation) the likes of Hitman, Hourman, Justice League International, John Ostrander’s Suicide Squad, and Chase.

14. Seven Soldiers of Victory

What: A set of seven interconnected miniseries plus bookends, this is the story of seven minor superheroes forced to band together and punch far, far above their weight in the face of a cosmic apocalypse that only they by prophecy can stop. And the catch on top of it? None of them know they’re on a team. Or even meet each other.

Why: Seven Soldiers is a tour-de-force in just about every regard, but even beyond its incredible quality, it just as importantly serves to teach the final, most important lesson of all when it comes to the DCU: there are times it gets buck wild. Superhero worlds are crazy as hell, and to a certain extent you’re going to have to not just accept that on the journey to loving them, but embrace them. And nothing’s going to help you learn that better than a crimefighting newspaper mascot unwittingly working alongside the likes of Frankenstein and the god of escape artists to save the world from evil fairies.

Recommendations: Past the 1970s and truly weird superhero stuff falling out of fashion, Grant Morrison’s the master of this kind of bonkers material - alongside material by him I’ve mentioned before and in the final recommendation, I particularly have to bring up Final Crisis, the event-comic sequel to Seven Soldiers and his JLA that brings his incredible, bizarre vision of the DCU onto the largest scale possible. That itself spins out into the incredible Multiversity, and the aforementioned Scott Snyder/Greg Capullo DC event book (overseen to some extent by Morrison) Dark Nights: Metal; if you want to check out the latter I’d suggest Return of Bruce Wayne, another Morrison-written Final Crisis spinoff that ends up planting some very important seeds even outside the context of his larger Batman run.

15. Flex Mentallo: Man of Muscle Mystery

What: Gifted with the superpower of being able to do anything by flexing his muscles and posing dramatically (with the incredible mental discipline of muscle mystery!), Flex Mentallo was brought to life by a the dying wish of young boy Wally Sage into the real world - albeit a ‘real world’ far stranger than any we might know - but faced with apocalyptic cynicism and a seeming message from an old ally in his fictional days, Flex finds himself on an odyssey to find where all the superheroes have gone and how to save the world the way they used to. Meanwhile, punk rocker Wally Sage is ODing in an alley and babbling away on a suicide hotline about the comics he loved as a child…most of all his own creation, Flex Mentallo.

Why: Grant Morrison’s ultimate statement on superheroes and the potential they hold in our own lives, Flex Mentallo is perhaps the most important comic of all on this list, because while the rest of the recommendations illustrate aspects of the history or genre possibilities or characters that will make you fall in love with the world of DC, Flex is the definitive text on Why This Superhero Comics Shit Actually Matters.

Recommendations: Well, most of Morrison’s other DC work, which I’ve suggested plenty of above alongside his Superman and Batman material in their respective starter packs; the big two I haven’t brought up are his run on Doom Patrol, the headtrip freako comic that introduced Flex in the first place, and Animal Man, his first DC book and alongside Flex his most foundational. If you enjoy Flex you might also be the market for more of DC’s odder Vertigo output meshing the superheroic with the supernatural and horrific; much of its best material was under the Books of Magic entry, and it’s not a field I’m that acquainted with, but I’d also recommend the volumes of Doom Patrol, Shade the Changing Girl, and Eternity Girl under DC’s Young Animal imprint, which carried on the tradition once Vertigo mostly switched to creator-owned work prior to its shutdown.

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: Rent-A-Girlfriend Is The Best Romcom In Ages

  For as long as I've been into anime, I've had a fondness in my heart for romantic comedies. From will-they-won't-theys like Kimi ni Todoke - From Me To You to ridiculous love octagons like Nisekoi, watching characters tiptoe through romantic minefields on their way to finding true love is something I doubt I'll ever get completely tired of. However, anyone who has enough experience with the genre will tell you it can get repetitive. There are only so many shows about a person and their gaggle of love interests you can watch before you notice they are usually running around in narrative circles to justify keeping the story going. Recently there have been some standout romcoms for us to chew on — for example, My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU keeps things interesting by developing relationships long before they become romantic, My Next Life as a Villainess: All Roads Lead to Doom! has a protagonist with as much genre knowledge as the viewer, and this season's TONIKAWA: Over The Moon For You skips the courting ritual aspect entirely.

  But if you just want an honest to goodness romcom, compelling without the need to seem subversive, Rent-a-Girlfriend has you covered.

    Rent-a-Girlfriend has a pretty silly premise to start. Coming off of a recent breakup, main character Kazuya uses an online service to pay for some dates with series heroine Chizuru. After a series of wacky events culminating in both their families believing they are truly dating, they decide to keep up the facade for a while. This premise is really only there to get the ball rolling, though — the real hook is Kazuya's newly awkward and complicated love life.

  His last relationship was his only one and it was shortlived. But that already puts him way ahead of most anime romance protagonists as far as experience goes. For the story's purposes, this means his romantic options are more realistic and open-ended. Where other shows would have a group of girls who have all fallen for him in no uncertain terms, Kazuya's relationships are more loosely defined and more interesting as a result. For example, fans aren't fond of his ex Mami, but her jealousy when she thinks Kazuya found a cute new partner before she did creates a compelling dynamic between them. She starts to act interested in him again, putting on moves that force Kazuya, and us, to consider more complicated feelings — should he get back with her? Is there something real going on with these other girls, anyway? Heck, does she even like him? Does he even like her? Does he just like the idea of being with her? These aren't problems that are cleanly resolved by simply “choosing” a girl, and as the story progresses and they both grow, so do the nuances of their dynamic.

    And when I say they both grow, I mean it. Because to be honest, Kazuya starts the series as a total loser. Most anime romcom protagonists come in one of two varieties: little personality or unwittingly selfless. Both have their own functions as storytelling devices, but neither is particularly relatable. Kazuya, on the other hand, starts the show as kind of an unwittingly selfish guy. He wastefully spends the money he should be saving for his school life, he wants a girlfriend for the same base reasons most people his age want girlfriends, and he isn't very self-aware about how his behavior comes across to other people. This is best exemplified early on as Kazuya gives Chizuru a low rating on the rent-a-date app for essentially being too good at her job. He, like many people who believe themselves to be smart, justifies this as him seeing through her act and therefore being above her, completely missing the irony that he paid her to act like that in the first place. It's the kind of unintentionally mean-spirited mistake young adults like him really make, and Rent-a-Girlfriend stands out for having a cast filled with characters who have similar grounded flaws like that to work through.

    Luckily for him, the seeds are planted early for his character arc. The one slightly selfless thing he feels is a sort of debt to his grandmother to find a good partner and continue the family she worked so hard to keep afloat for many years. Those are just the specifics that set the story off, though. When we, and Kazuya, dig a little deeper, the real issue becomes clear: Kazuya wants to stop feeling like a burden, to become a more positive force in the lives of the people he cares about. He learns this in a roundabout way through his time spent with Chizuru, who is herself an empathetic person almost to a fault. She doesn't start the show attracted to him, and still isn't really by the end of the first season, but that doesn't make their relationship less meaningful. By spending time with Chizuru — and eventually, the other heroines introduced later — Kazuya slowly gains self-awareness about his worst tendencies, and consciously or not, starts finding ways he can be a more kind and caring person. It's more subtle, but Chizuru learns a bit about the importance of finding time to prioritize herself and her own wants and needs, too. Their relationship is undeniably the main one in the show, but it doesn't start with any genuine romantic feelings between them — Kazuya's attraction is surface-level and Chizuru sees it purely as a job. As a result, the chemistry between them is able to grow naturally, which is much more interesting to follow than the typical instant love and resulting stagnant dynamics I've come to associate with the genre.

    There are plenty of interesting things to find in Rent-a-Girlfriend, but I don't want to spoil them all for you here. At its core, it's a story about how infatuation is easy, but love is hard, and the trials and tribulations that go along with that. If the unconventional premise or general fatigue from anime romcoms has kept you from giving it a shot, I recommend giving it another go — its characters can be flawed and petty, but they can also be kind and relatable, and the show's allowance for those kinds of flaws and strengths to define its characters make them much more than they might seem on the surface. At the very least it is an unconventional yet familiar story, and if you've ever been awkward and lonely, you'll probably find something in yourself through Kazuya and his growing group of friends.

  Do you have a favorite anime romance? Let us know in the comments below!

        David Lynn can be found on Twitter @navycherub.  

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll. Features! 

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[ramajmedia]

Characters That Should Be Public Domain (If It Wasn't For Disney)

Disney's corporate lobbying means a whole host of characters and concepts are still in copyright, when they'd otherwise be in the public domain. The relationship between Disney and Sony Pictures recently broke down, with the Marvel Cinematic Universe losing Spider-Man as a result. In an ironic twist, without Disney's lobbying, Spider-Man would be in the public domain by now.

Disney has long been fighting a running political battle to ensure the copyright license to Mickey Mouse continues for as long as possible. As a direct result of Disney's lobbying, in 1976 and again in 1998, Congress extended the duration of copyright to allow Disney to keep Mickey safe and secure. These extended copyright terms have had a strange effect on the entertainment industry, especially given film studios and networks increasingly depend on old and established franchises. If not for Disney, a number of high-profile superheroes would now be public domain, which would have a profound impact on Hollywood.

Related: Disney Has Just Had Its Worst Week

There are literally hundreds of established franchises that are still protected because of Disney's corporate lobbying. Let's take a look at some of the ones that are only protected because of the last extension, in 1998.

The most obvious one is Mickey Mouse's origin story, Steamboat Willie, which Disney has been scrambling to protect all this time. The copyright to Steamboat Willie is currently set to expire in 2024, which will bring Disney's best-known character into the public domain. The House of Mouse seems to have accepted defeat at last, and there's no evidence they're intending to push for another extension.

Created by A.A. Milne in 1924, Winnie the Pooh is a very important bear indeed. Comic book pioneer Stephen Slesinger bought the copyright from Milne in 1930, and his widow licensed the rights to Disney in 1953. In 1991, the Slesinger family sued Disney, claiming they'd been short-changed in the deal, and the court case dragged out some 18 years before the House of Mouse emerged triumphant. The irony is that the copyright would have long since expired if not for the 1976 extension, and anyone would be able to use Winnie the Pooh. The bear of very little brain will become public domain in 2026.

The general story of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves is long since public domain, but Disney's specific portrayal is copyrighted until 2032. Until then, anyone can make a Snow White story, but the House of Mouse alone can call the Dwarves Grumpy, Sleepy, Sneezy, Dopey, Happy, Bashful, and Doc. What's more, Snow White isn't the only Disney film currently protected thanks to the extensions to copyright; the same is true of Pinocchio as well.

Related: All The Live-Action Disney Remakes In Development

Ironically, Disney's corporate lobbying also secured extended copyright for some of their rivals' trademarks as well. Take the example of Bugs Bunny, whose first story falls into the public domain in 2035. There's some discussion on whether Warner Bros. will attempt to claim Bugs is their "intellectual property," which may give them a way to keep the bunny to themselves for a little longer. It would, no doubt, be contested.

In 2015, veteran producer Don Murphy (Natural Born Killers, Transformers) announced that he was beginning work on Armageddon 2419, a movie that was based on Philip Nowlan's first Buck Rogers novel. Unfortunately, he sound wound up embroiled in copyright law, simply because the character is never named "Buck" in that first book, and it's wound up going to court. In the case of Buck Rogers, different aspects of the hero's character and arc will become public domain depending on when they were published. Again, this issue would have passed long ago if not for the copyright extensions.

Comic books are big business nowadays, if only because they inspire some of the biggest Hollywood blockbusters of all time. But, if not for the copyright extensions of 1976 and 1998, a lot of iconic characters would have begun to enter the public domain. How would Warner Bros. deal with a world in which anyone could make a Superman film? THR spoke to a Warner Bros. lawyer, who contended that trademark law - a separate form of intellectual property - may apply in this case. They further pointed out that not everything is black and white when dealing with serialized works like comic books. "Superman's power of flight was not introduced until some years after the character first appeared," they noted. The copyright will begin to expire in 2033, and it's safe to say this one's going to wind up in court.

Superman isn't the only DC superhero to be affected by this. Batman was created in 1939, and his copyright is currently due to end in 2034. This will prove quite an interesting case, because Batman is well known for the quality of his rogues' gallery, and many of those characters - including the Joker - won't be in public domain for a few years after. Even Batman's loyal butler Alfred Pennyworth wasn't created until 1943, meaning he can't be used until 2038.

The problem facing Warner Bros., though, will be that many of Batman's core attributes are implied in the original comics. In 2014, the Conan Doyle estate attempted to strengthen Sherlock Holmes copyright in court, and failed. As influential Judge Richard Posner observed, "the ten Holmes-Watson stories in which copyright persists are derivative from the earlier stories, so only original elements added in the later stories remain protected." Again, this will be tested in court - and given the strength of the Batman brand, it's safe to say Warner Bros. will do everything in their power to keep the Dark Knight safe.

Related: The Best Superhero Movie Performances Of The Decade

Marvel's heroes were generally created later, in the 1960s and beyond, and so wouldn't yet be affected by this copyright debate. One exception, however, is Captain America himself. He was created in 1941 and, without the 1998 legislation, he'd be in public domain as well; in this case, the copyright will expire in 2036. This is one case where the serialized nature of comic books really will kick in, though. As an example, his sidekick Bucky Barnes will lose copyright in 2036 as well, but Bucky's later Winter Soldier identity certainly wasn't implicit in the original comics. That particular arc will be safe until 2100.

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The current extended copyright terms have had a strange effect on American culture. Companies like Disney and Warner Bros. remain focused on characters and concepts that are decades old, rather than creating new brands, and as a result, nostalgia has become the driving force of contemporary society. The current Golden Age of superhero films is largely based on characters from the 1940s through to the 1960s, and few new brands have the power of superheroes like Batman, Superman, Iron Man, the X-Men, and Captain America. The world would no doubt be very different if copyright terms were shorter, and if corporate lobbying hadn't successfully changed the laws to protect a certain mouse.

More: The Winners And Losers Of The 2019 Summer Box Office

source https://screenrant.com/characters-public-domain-disney-copyright-lobby/

[victorsheartshapedsmile]

How yoi plays with sports story scheme

I was wondering recently why Yuri on Ice seemed to be so different and fresh to me and why so many people get so emotionally engaged with it. There is definitely a nice animation and great characters and representation and such a beautiful love story but I felt like there was something in the narration layer that I couldn’t name until I compared yoi storyline to the most common schemes.

When you look at most of the pop cultural stories, especially those where main plot focuses on sport, you’ll see that there is that one scheme they all follow - you have a hero who has talent but lacks something (like a good mentor or hard work or confidence), he finds a motivation to win (it may be anything from parent’s death to wish to impress a girl) and he finds a dedicated coach, he trains, he loses, he learns something about himself, he wins, he gets an award. This is the basic way of constructing such stories and it’s catchy because we all want to believe that we are able to fight our weaknesses and win by ourselves. You may modify this scheme to a large extent but the main core will always be a single hero who needs to grow in order to win and actually I think that this scheme is present in Yuri on Ice but in Yurio’s not Yuuri’s story. Yurio has talent, lacks hard work and needs to learn something about himself, his skate-off with Yuuri gives him a motivation to win, he trains hard, he loses, he grows, he wins. This doesn’t make his story or his character less interesting but I wanted to give you an example of what am I talking about so I could compare it to Yuuri’s story.

So now, where is Yuuri’s plot different you could say. Well, in a way you could find all those elements in Yuuri’s story too but his development is where it all turns to be innovative. You see in the basic scheme the hero needs to learn to win by himself while Yuuri has got to that point a long time ago. He had all of that: his motivation, his hard work, most of his abilities, his own strength before he met Victor. He was fighting by himself for five years before and even if his anxiety makes him look like a weak loser it is obvious he is already beyond that “learning about myself” phase. Even this confidence Victor helps him to find he already had just hidden. Yuuri knows his emotions and some of his strengths and most of the weak points himself and either he wins or loses those minor competitions it doesn’t change him too deeply. But what Victor gives him is the belief that he doesn’t have to fight by himself anymore. Not in a “you can learn from other people” or “teamwork is important” kind of way (’cause they are still used in most of the stories) but in acknowledging that you may become better if you let someone close to you (this lesson applies to Victor to btw but he is not the main hero so I’ll skip this part). 

I won’t say this reverses the scheme completely as this is still some kind of personal development that helps to win (though the fact that Yuuri does not finally win is interesting by itself) but it definitely changes the subtext of the whole story.  We like stories about heroes fighting by themselves because we often struggle with our problems alone and we need to believe me can do it. But Yuri on Ice gives us the idea that thought you are strong enough to fight maybe you don’t have to fight alone at all. I guess this is why it has such a great emotional impact because in a world that tells you all the time that it’s only for you to win the story of someone who still needed help even if he already was strong and beautiful is really hopeful, positive and in a way more realistic then the basic “hero can only win by himself” scheme. 

There is also the whole layer of how Victor doesn’t fit to the standard portrayal of a mentor figure but I think this is quite easy to spot and maybe let’s not make this longer than it has to be but the last quick reflection I had is that the most common way of portraying romantic relationships in the sports stories is either when the hero needs to sacrifice his relationship in order to focus (which is the trope I personally hate) or when he wins the attention of his love interest by winning the final competition (so the love is somehow a reward then). What is great in Yuuri and Victor’s relationship is how Yuuri doesn’t have to win to prove his worth to Victor. Almost from the beginning, Victor knows Yuuri’s flaws and he falls for him anyway. So Yuuri is not only given support that helps him to become better but also he doesn’t need to earn that support. Which I think again is quite moving because everyone dreams of this kind of relationship. We are all scared that we are not good enough to let someone help us in the first place and this is where yoi tells us it doesn’t have to be this way.

I’m sure there are much more tropes that are reversed in yoi and there is the whole narration layer that is also quite original but as storytelling is what I have the most experience with I decided to focus on this aspect only. And I may be wrong I just like to find and discuss narration schemes so please argue if you disagree but I love the fact that even when yoi takes those basic narration schemes it uses it to send a very positive message across and for me it could be a reason why there is such an enthusiastic fandom around it - because this anime exchanges the story of fighting alone for a story about growing in a relationship though it does not change a sports story for a cheaply romantic one.

[felinevomitus]

Lonely Hearts Club Band: an interview with Trupa Trupa's Grzegorz Kwiatkowski

Trupa Trupa by Michal Szlaga. From left: Rafał Wojczal, Wojtek Juchniewicz, Tomek Pawluczuk, Grzegorz Kwiatkowski

Ilia Rogatchevski catches up with the Polish quartet’s front man to discuss Gdansk’s tumultuous history, the films of Werner Herzog and the importance of boredom to the creative process

Trupa Trupa are an art rock band from Gdansk. Fusing elements of post-hardcore, no wave and psychedelia, the four-piece exude a restless energy that bears the hallmarks of Fugazi’s uncompromising punk ethos. Fronted by the poet Grzegorz Kwiatkowski, the band weave absurd lyrics through liquifying guitar riffs, angular bass lines and concise percussion. Repetition plays a key role in their work, as is evidenced by their playful band name, which roughly translates to a troupe of corpses.

Trupa Trupa released their first two albums Headache and Jolly New Songs, through independent labels Blue Tapes and ici d'ailleurs. Both records received international praise. In his Quietus review of the band’s debut, Wire contributor Tristan Bath called Headache ”their first moment of true greatness”.

On the 26 February the band announced that they had signed to Sub Pop, whose label head Jonathan Poneman revealed that he thinks of the band “as a thunderstorm with big gusts, explosions and torrential downpours”. He made the decision to sign them three years ago, but, he says, “it took me a long time to get it done”. Coinciding with the news, Trupa Trupa released the brand new track “Dream About”, with an accompanying video by Norwegian artist Benjamin Finger.

Ilia Rogatchevski: Congratulations on signing to Sub Pop. How did it happen?

Grzegorz Kwiatkowski: Jonathan Poneman, the boss of Sub Pop, was at our gig at OFF Festival in Katowice. He enjoyed the gig and suggested that he would like to work with us. That was six years ago. Through the years we were working hard, but we weren’t working for Sub Pop or anyone else. Of course, we were curious. We knew that it could happen.

The breaking point was when we played SXSW in 2018. The gig was in a small Irish pub. David Fricke from Rolling Stone was there and Robin Hilton from NPR. All these important people came and my amp broke. I asked the stage manager if he had something else, but he didn’t. Suddenly, one person from the audience said: “I’ve got an amp I can give you.”

In 20 minutes we played songs which should be played in 35. The fastest concert ever. We were so angry. Everything was going wrong. The bass player’s guitar stopped working. We kept on playing, but he was shouting with his guitar over his head. These journalists thought: Woah, man! What a band. They are crazy. We are lucky to have strange accidents working on our side.

Is the band a conduit for accidents, then?

We are really open to mistakes. We love absurdity and paradoxes. The band seem a bit dark, but we love to act like clowns. We just wrote many songs with our producer (Michał Kupicz), but we really don’t know if they will be accessible. Let’s see.

“Dream About”

Benjamin Finger directed the music video for your new song “Dream About”. How did that collaboration come about?

We played with him at a great gig in Cafe Oto in London and became friends. The video looks like hipster stuff from the internet, but it’s his own tapes. We love this kind of atmosphere. It’s very important for us that we are not pretending to be a professional rock band, which makes a professional video. We were afraid that Sub Pop would tell us what to do. Of course, we were wrong. They are totally open to this kind of DIY art.

In a previous interview you suggested that the “spiritual strategy of DIY” is important to the band. Can you define what you mean by that?

You can feel it inside the music that it’s not a PR project. The important thing about Trupa Trupa is that [our] albums are a bit boring. I like to be bored. Our new songs remind me of the atmosphere from Samuel Beckett. Samuel Beckett’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. The time is running. We are waiting. We are observing. It’s a meditative, pessimistic thing.

Samuel Beckett’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. I like that. In the past you’ve cited The Beatles as a core influence. They were very forward thinking for their time, but are now so canonised that we no longer consider them to be experimental. With that in mind, what sets you apart from other guitar bands working today?

Bands as we are, they don’t exist, because they break up after one or two years. But we exist and are more established than ever. Quite unique, I think, is that we are very democratic in our vision. Every one of us has a strong personality. One is a painter, the second one is a graphic designer, the third a poet, the fourth a reporter and a photographer. Every one of us is trying to put his view inside of the band. It’s kind of a competition. We don’t want to [exist] for the audience. The most important thing is ourselves. I know that sounds narcissistic, but we are friends and this music comes from our friendship.

You guys are based in Gdansk. Have you always been there?

We all live in Gdansk, but not all of us were born here. Tomek Pawluczuk [drums] and Wojciech Juchniewicz [bass] came here from Białystok and Skarżysko-Kamienna, respectively, for studies at the Academy of Fine Arts. Me and Rafał Wojczal [keyboard, guitar] are friends from the same neighbourhood. This is our city and I think that it’s got some impact on us, even if we don’t want it. It’s a very special place, for sure.

What aspects of it seep into your work?

It is the history. Gdansk is connected to the Second World War, to the movement of Solidarity. For me, the place called Westerplatte – the place where the war started – was the dream place for a child. It was like a video game.

There is a mixture of many things in the air still. It’s a really horrifying place, even. For example, a few weeks ago our mayor [Paweł Adamowicz] was murdered. The whole of Poland is in big shock. Gdansk is the city of transgression. Big things are still happening here.

There is also big, great nature around us. We love these landscapes. All of us love Werner Herzog movies, for example. It’s a bit connected to the German aesthetic, I guess. On the other hand, we have our inner landscapes and stories, which are not so connected to the city.

It’s interesting that you mention Herzog. In a previous interview you said that “Jolly New Songs” was a Fitzcarraldo moment for you: the band building an opera house in the middle of the rainforest.

Brian Fitzgerald, the main character of Fitzcarraldo, is a hero for me in the same way as Don Quixote. I’d like to be someone and achieve something, but after all I’m a loser. Every day I wake up and think I will be a better man. It’s not that I would like to be the Übermensch. I would like to be a good man, but I would also like to be a good artist who is constructing his strange ideas and objects.

Listening to “Dream About”, I would compare it to another Herzog film: Lesson Of Darkness (1992), which documents the burning of the oil fields in Kuwait after the Gulf War. It’s contemplative and mellow, but very dark as well.

I think you’re right with this example. For me, the new material is the same. It’s pessimistic, naive and slow. You can hear in this song [“Dream About”] that it’s a bit broken. It’s resigned, calm. Almost every [one of our] songs pretends to be a regular song, but they’re really mantras about nothingness. They really are songs of nowhere.

Trupa Trupa will perform three dates at SXSW 2019 on 14, 15 & 16 March, as well Poznań on 26 April and Sharpe Festival, Bratislava, on 27 April.

Ilia Rogatchevski Originally published by the Wire, 26 February 2019