Tom Russell: June 2007 Archives

I turned twenty-five today. And as is the wont of others around these parts, I've decided to share with you my Amazon Wish List.

Not that I'm expecting anything, of course. :-)

http://www.amazon.com/gp/registry/wishlist/3E23EETG1QP6I/

Now, you'll note that the list belongs to one Mary Russell-- who is, of course, my beautiful wife. Generally, I don't think one will have a problem differentiating which things are mine, and which things are my wife's.

As a general rule of thumb, I'm not anxiously hoping for a cookbook. :-)

I remember the exact moment that I fell in love with "Big" Ethel Muggs, Jughead's unwanted suitor from the Archie books. It was when I came across this:

This is the secret of Big Ethel: she was always exactly and stubbornly herself. She never tried to fit in, but rather asserted her own unique personality at every opportunity. No compromise.

The Arthur Effect is the process in which the things that make an intellectual property unique are smoothed out in order to gain a wider audience. For example, the original Lee-Ditko Spider-Man was a very angry and moody young man. He lived in a moody, atmospheric world and fought bizarre villains, like the Vulture and Doctor Octopus. He resided with his Aunt May and was very lonely.

After Ditko left, Peter Parker moved out of his aunt's place and became damn near gregarious. Bland, "normal" villains like the Rhino or the Kingpin were more likely to crop up than the more colourful ones. The mood of the title under Romita was more romantic, both in terms of interpersonal relationships-- Peter now had a real honest-to-God girlfriend-- and in terms of storytelling: big, Kirby-esque superhero battles.

In short, everything that made Spider-Man Spider-Man was gone, and as a result, he became more popular. The Spider-Man of the hit Sam Raimi films is Romita's-- not Ditko's.

I call this the Arthur Effect because of the Marc Brown character, Arthur Read the Aardvark. In the first book, Arthur's Nose, he looked like this:

Arthur, unhappy with his long aardvark's nose, goes to Dr. Louise, the rhinologist (who is, naturally, a rhino). In the end, he decides that he likes his own nose the best: "I'm just not me without my nose!"

But now let's take a look at a more recent book in the Arthur series.

What happened to his nose? The whole point of the first book-- that we should accept, and celebrate, the things that make us different-- is completely invalidated by the rest of the series. And it's this noseless Arthur-- more bear than aardvark-- that makes up the bulk of the series, stars in chapter books, has his own television program, toys, oversized plush dolls, backpacks, lunchboxes, stationary, music cds, and posters. Nothing differentiates him from all the other cute, cuddly children's book characters-- and so he's more palatable to a wider audience.

I'm not saying this is always a bad thing, nor is it always a direct result of trying to capture a wider market. Because of the Comics Code, the friendly Silver Age incarnations of Batman and Superman are vastly different from the brutal Golden Age originals. And in the case of Superman, I think that's an assest: no one wants to see him hurtling war criminals like javelins.



With these rough edges and quirks gone, they became more acceptable to the mainstream audience, and more-or-less codified the concept of the superhero. Really, the Arthur Effect is one of refinement.

But what a character or story might gain in beauty, clarity, and thematic unity-- all very attractive to the widest possible audience-- they often lose that most mysterious and precious of things: vitality.

The best Superman comics ever made are also the most fondly remembered and the most widely derided. The Silver Age Superman, stewarded by Mort Weisenger, basically defined the Superman universe as we know it: the Fortress of Solitude, the Bottle City of Kandor, Bizarro and Braniac, Supergirl, the Legion of Super-Heroes, Legion of Super-Pets (and the Space Canine Patrol Agents with their immortal rallying cry: "Big Dog, Big Dog, Bow-Wow-Wow!"), Titano the Super-Ape, Metallo and the Kryptonite Man, the mermaid Lori Lemaris and Superman's Kryptonian sweetheart, "emotion-movie" star Lyla Lerrol.

During this period, Clark Kent fought Al Capone (Superman # 142: "Superman Meets Al Capone!"), Jimmy Olsen became convinced that he was the reincarnation of the greatest traitors in history (Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen # 110: "Jimmy Olsen's Blackest Deeds!"), and Superman wore a number of amusing hats in order to cleverly conceal the presence of a third eye brought on by Red Kryptonite (Action Comics # 275: "The Menace of Red-Green Kryptonite!"). This is the era that saw Superman transformed into a lion (Action Comics # 243: "The Lady and the Lion!"), an "old duffer" (Action Comics # 251: "The Oldest Man In Metropolis"), the Superman of the Future (Action Comics # 256: "The Superman of the Future!"), and even Alfred E. Neuman (Superman # 126: "The Two Faces of Superman!").

There are a number of reasons why people don't like these stories. They think they're silly. They think they lack polish. They're the products of censorship, the neutered concept of the superhero that emerged in the wake of the Comics Code Authority. And to all that I say, hogwash!

These stories are great! The hallmarks of fantasy literature! And, over time, I hope to revisit some of these great stories and tell you why I love them, and what makes them tick. But if I may take this moment to address another common complaint about The Greatest Superhero Comics Ever Made...

People say that the Silver Age Lois Lane is a misogynistic mish-mash of a character. That she's a projection of the hatred and anxieties of the male editor and his male writers towards women. And to that I say: hogwash!

Lois Lane is the crowning achievement of the Weisenger Era.

Sorry about the title-- I couldn't resist. :-)

It was announced earlier this month that Warner Bros. has optioned a script for a theatrical feature-length CGI-animated ThunderCats film.

http://www.variety.com/article/VR1117966320.html?categoryid=13&cs=1

ThunderCats was one of the best animated action/sci-fi series of the eighties, marked by strong animation, comparatively rich characterization, and a cohesive universe. A film would be a good thing. But... CGI?

CGI-animated films have come a long way in the last ten or fifteen years, but other than, perhaps, The Incredibles, I've yet to see a good action or sci-fi film. The only other one I can think of-- the Final Fantasy film from a few years back-- had that really creepy doll-look.

I'm just afraid that a ThunderCats film is going to look clunky-- like Beast Wars of something. I personally think it'd be a much better idea to do it live-action with some sophisticated make-up effects. It would put the focus squarely on the characterization, and would give the whole thing a more realistic feel; and the animation in ThunderCats was more realistic than that in, say, the Transformers or Masters of the Universe.

Ah, well.

A while back, Moonstone posted a call for proposals to revamp the classic action figure Captain Action in a comic book series. Many people gave it a shot, but in the end they've decided to go with Fabian Nicieza.

I was one of the many non-professionals who sent in a proposal. Sure, it was a lark, and it didn't pan out. But I figured it was worth a shot.

And, since it would never see the light of day otherwise, I've decided to share my rejected revamp proposal with you!