The Fractal Hall Journal

A lot of fragmentary thought round these parts this week.

Popping back to the Doctor again, how random was it that Mike from the Young Ones is playing the Sontaran commander? Weird. I wonder who they’ll get to play Davros.

It shouldn’t really be a surprise that it appears to be the Dalek’s creator who’s the major bad guy in Series 4. He’s really the only major one left to show up again, after the Master. I’m not too sure how I feel about it, outside the fact that it’s Russell T., so it’s bound to be awesome. Rose showing up seems a bit of a shame, as her character arc finished so perfectly, and her return’s a bit of a gimmicky.

I think the problem with Davros is something that’s been mentioned a number of times in Who fandom: before him, the Daleks were a threat all on their own, but after he turned up they just sort of ended up being Evil Henchmen. The new series has put so much into making the Daleks deadly once again it’s a damned pity they’re going to get relegated. I’d rather have had the Cult of Skaro developed a bit more as Dalek leaders, but then the last Dalek two-parter turned Sec into a tentacle-headed American and it all fell a bit flat. Maybe they do need the old guy back again, although I have to say I’d rather have seen a modern spin on the Sea Devils.

I’m in a bit of a quandry about continuing to get Morrison’s Batman monthly, too. I recently picked up Brubaker’s X-Men: Deadly Genesis in hardback (more on that soon), and it’s  a really great format to read the story in. With the Batman delays, plus the fact that the story so far reads so much better in one go rather than month by month (or longer, lets face it), I’m enclined to switch to the trades for Batman RIP. The same kind of goes for Final Crisis, or its tie-ins. I suppose the question is whether month-to-month delays and a fragmented story line will be better or worse than having all the good bits spoiled in advance.

And finally, I picked up this month’s Empire with the coverage of the Summer superhero films, and I have to say the more I see of The Incredible Hulk the more I like the look of it. Sure, it’s going to suck, but if I could make room in my heart for Ghost Rider then this one shouldn’t be too much of a leap. Despite enjoying the first Hulk, I do think they fumbled the ball a bit by largely ignoring the TV series.

The thing is, that’s the touchstone for most people and the character, and stuff like the pre-transformation green contact lenses generate the kind of pleasant memory the film-makers should be taking advantage of. Plus, part of the “hero’s journey” this time is Banner’s acceptance that, by the end of the film, the world needs a monster like the Hulk to save it (or, at least, New York), and isn’t that the kind of thing we read comics for?

Oh, and just so no one thinks I’ve forgotten, I’ll do a round-up at some point of all the Changaround posts, if not next week then the week after. Cheers to everyone who’s taken part so far.

     Feed

A little late today, so let’s crack on.

The Sontaran Stratagem

The fourth series of the new Doctor Who has had the strongest start of any of them, and thank God because the Christmas Special was such a stinker. The Fires of Pompeii was the best purely “historical” Who of the revival (if we don’t include The Girl in Fireplace as it was split between the far future and 18th Century France), and it’s a shame they don’t raid the Beeb’s Jane Austen cupboard to do more episodes in the past. The opener managed to be funny without getting unbearably silly, and Planet of the Ood turned out to be, of all things, pretty moving.

The trailers for Saturday’s episode weren’t the most effective the BBC’s ever made, using the one cringe-worthy scene of Martha Jones calling the Doctor home and playing up the daftness of the Sontarans themselves. Speaking of which, the episode went to huge lengths to draw out the baddies’ dramatic reveal, even though they’ve been plastered all over the publicity material for months.

As it turned out the episode was fantastic, far better than writer Helen Raynor’s weak Dalek two-parter from the second series. It had a genuinely tense cliffhanger, and apart from the phone scene it was great to see Martha return. The production team managed to update the Sontarans while keeping the original Who vibe, all alien warrior monologues and retro-futuristic clone vats and video monitors. In fact, with this and Pompeii, Series 4 has been closer in tone to old Who than the previous 3 have. I guess Russell T. feels a little more comfortable with referring to what’s gone before now the show’s a success with a new audience.

A brilliant start, then, and we’re not even at the Moffat episodes yet.

     Feed

I’m damned glad, sometimes, that I have the equivalent taste and discernment of an eleven-year-old. Steven Grant’s latest column at CBR, amongst other things, has got me thinking about, for want of a better phrase, “art” comics. I hate to frame this post in these terms, but you-know-the-kind-of-thing-I’m-talking-about.

The “indie” scene is something of a niche interest, with creators making little money, certainly in comparison to people working on “mainstream” titles (and I’m sorry for all the quotation marks, but that’s the accepted terminology even if it is all a little ridiculous). And I feel sorry for them. It can’t be much fun to put your heart and soul into something and not have it appreciated, and if I was a fan of only that kind of thing then I’d get pretty frustrated, too.

A big chunk of the comics I buy have always been super-hero stuff, although recently there’s been a lot more that fit better in the “other” column. Even these largely fall into SF/Fantasy/Horror/Crime though. There’s very little real-world based stuff. It’s not that I don’t like non-genre work, it’s just that it doesn’t tend to be my first choice. It’s the same, really, with books, TV, and films.

It’s probably not completely accurate to say it’s all based on a kind of arrested development. Sure, if it’s a Saturday morning cartoon that has giant robots in it I’m almost guaranteed to like it, but I kind of liked Raging Bull too. I suppose I’m less enclined than some to bemoan the hideous and shallow state of modern culture, which isn’t to say I wouldn’t like to see something that’s more Serpico than National Treasure once in a while. Partly it’s because while there’s an argument to be made that movies have gotten dumber (or rather, that there aren’t as many smart films out, as there have always been dumb movies), television has gotten a hell of a lot more sophisticated. The Wire is every bit as real and engaging as anything filmed for the big screen in the 70s.

Also, I can’t help but feel that things aren’t as doomy as is widely predicted, and that’s because the way people create, deliver and discover things are changing radically. Take music. I am absolutely the guy who whinges and moans about how much better pop music was in the 60s compared to today. But while in times past I was limited to what was chosen to be distributed by big labels, or by the limited reach of small-time indie (and there’s that word again) labels, now if I wanted to listen to nothing but psychedelic Spanish arse-flute Reggae, not only am I likely to be able to turn up a website devoted to it but also an enclave of artists specialising in psychedelic Spanish arse-flutery and all the rivalry, backstabbing and innovation that goes with that kind of thing.

Large media conglomerates, whether they’re DC, Paramount, EMI or whatever, will always be engaged in nothing more than wealth accumulation, and homogenisation of popular culture is simply the best way for them to do this. But with the advent of networking resources of the 21st Century, added to how easy technology makes home production of damn near anything these days, we are no longer limited to what is distributed by these corporations. It is a climate where niche interests thrive- just look at the success of the Penny Arcade webcomic, something the majority of the Western world have never, ever heard of, but has generated well over a million dollars in charitable contributions from a previously untapped fanbase. It wouldn’t surprise me if their actual non-charitable earnings haven’t surpassed the same level.

By exploiting the subdivisions that aren’t worth the notice of big companies, it is possible to pursue these niche interests. Millions may not flock to low budget art-house anything, but there is an audience out there, one that can be reached through non-conventional media. We may not be quite at the point where the delivery system is completely accessible to the audience yet, but we’re getting there. But there’s no point moaning about how these niches can’t compete with a big company. The simple fact is you can’t compete with them. So you’re only real option is to take yourself out of the game and find a better way.

     Feed

[•REC]

So scary I shat a brick. Then the brick settled down in the seat beside me and proceeded to be so scared it shat lots of tiny little bricks.*

The Orphanage

Scarier still, to the point that Social Services took the little bricks away from the bigger brick because the film was so scary that the little bricks shouldn’t have been watching it, and that taking them to watch it amounted to little brick endangerment. Don’t worry, the brick saga ends well because the bigger brick got them back by promising to only take them to Pixar films in future.

Leatherheads

Does anyone know how to say “Piss-Poor” (or the local cultural equivalent) in Romanian? How about “An Unengaging Load Of Toss”? I ask because, should I one day find myself in Romania and asked to write a brief review of George Clooney’s latest, well, I want to say effort but I probably mean “Toilet Bowl Full O’ Narcissism”, I feel it would be my duty to warn the proud people of that fine country off of it.

Grosse Pointe Blank

A film from eleven years ago (and recently repeated on some channel that I was watching) that I wasn’t keen on first time I saw it. This suggests a previously unknown personality disorder on my part, or the accidental ingestion of an airborne hallucinatory toxin, some form of fungus, perhaps, because this film is an awesome soup with awesome croutons, with a side order of awesome bread, lightly toasted and coated with awesome cheese. Oh, and a glass of awesome juice. I’d get some awesome wine, but it gives me wind. Awesome wind.

^ [*] If I can get all frowny-faced serious for a moment, I’ve got to second Triggi’s post on zombie films from the other day regarding the Hollywood remake. Going from what’s shown in the trailer, it’s a shot-for-shot restaging, damn near identical. The reasoning behind what amounts to a collosal waste of time is that an English language version will make a lot more cash than a general release of the Spanish, subtitled original. The reluctance of cinema-goers to watch something that isn’t in English or isn’t made in America is fucking shameful. Hardly a surprise, but fucking shameful.

Which isn’t to say different takes are necessarily a bad thing; it’s just that the trailer doesn’t look different at all. At least the remake of Ring did something a little different to the Japanese version. It wasn’t a million miles away, but it changed enough to make the two films subtly different experiences, in the same way that the Japanese adaptation was fairly different to the original novel even though it had many of the same scenes and events.

     Feed

After listing all the Doc quotes I like, it seems only fair (and balanced) to note one I really have a problem with. The average Whovian will have noticed a bias towards quoting from the episodes written by Steven Moffat, probably the best writer on the staff and tapped by Spielberg and Jackson to write the new Tintin movies (which sound fucking excellent, too), and the quote below comes from his “Empty Child” episode from the first season.

The Doctor: 1941. Right now, not very far from here, the German war machine is rolling up the map of Europe. Country after country, falling like dominoes. Nothing can stop it, nothing. Until one tiny, damp little island says “No. No, not here.” A mouse in front of a lion.

Yes, a mouse that spent the previous couple of hundred years invading other continents, slaughtering the natives and building an empire. I’m not taking away from the incredible defence and counterattack that not only protected Britain from Nazi invasion but went on to liberate Europe, not in the slightest. But the fact that I feel I have to drop that disclaimer in shows how difficult it can be to discuss this kind of thing objectively, or in context.

Everyone loves to be the plucky hero, and the Doctor’s words make us all feel warm and fuzzy and patriotic and from a family line of courageous martyrs, but it’s inaccurate and misleading. I don’t like it when the American administration cast themselves in the role of the oppressed, so I can’t condone it when a Brit does it, not least because the kind of person who usually comes out with statements like this in one breath claims to be the underdog, and then feels the need to emphasise how incredibly superior their military and their country is to everyone else’s. You can’t really have it both ways.

Like it or not, Britain wasn’t a tiny damp little island saying no, it was a world-spanning empire of considerable resource and military might, with an economy in a state of total war. Britain hasn’t been a tiny damp little island all on its owney-wone since Henry VIII, if not before. Again, it’s not taking away from the successful defence of the island to point this out, it’s just an attempt to deflate a somewhat disingenuous and borderline jingoistic world-view.

And don’t get me started on the UK’s constant obsession with re-fighting the Second World War generally, and Germany specifically.

In other news, the story about a man dressed in a bin bag attacking the members of a Jedi church has been making the rounds, and I feel a patriotic duty to point out that the parties are fellow countrymen of mine.

Earlier, when Hughes failed to arrive [at court] on time, District Judge Andrew Shaw issued an arrest warrant, adding: “I hope the force will soon be with him.” …Defending, Frances Jones said alcohol was “ruining his life” and he had no idea where he got the crutch from… The judge warned Hughes that jail remained a possibility before adjourning for pre-sentence reports until 13 May.

And if you ask me, they missed a trick by not setting the next court date for May 4th.

     Feed

I just noticed that the previous post is the 150th on the Journal. I only note it because, well, most of the discourse here tends towards comic books and I feel a vague disquiet that the post wasn’t double-length and released with multiple covers.

     Feed

Mortal Kombat vs. DC

As crazy as it sounds, of all the news to come out of the convention at the weekend this was the one I was most excited about, mostly because it was so unexpected. I had no idea there was another Mortal Kombat game in the pipeline, never mind a comic book crossover.

There’s not much to say about it at this point, but hell, I’ve only got one other post listed under “Games” over there in the right-hand column, looking all lonely. Even “Manga” has more entries.

Mortal Kombat is a fondly remembered childhood game, a remnant of a more innocent past where me and my friends would trade information on the best way to gruesomely dispatch opponents during the finishing move window at the end of a successful bout. I never really got the hang of Street Fighter, but I was always more of a Sega fan, so MK was my first choice. Like the rest of the world, I favoured the ninjas: Reptile from the sequel, Scorpion in the original. Ah, great times. The more recent entries in the franchise weren’t up to much according to the reviews, so I never bothered with them.

By the same token, while comic book computer games are usually utter pants, there have been some really good ones in the past ten years or so: X-Men Legends was good, and the Spider-Man 2 game was absolutely fantastic. So a great DC comics fighter would be awesome. So yeah, they’ve got me coming and going with this one. In fact, as long as it isn’t utterly unplayable there’s not much chance I’m not going to pick this up. I remember the Star Wars fighter (Masters of Teras-Kasi? Something like that) from years ago that most reviewers didn’t rate, but me and the posse (oh yeah, I had a posse. Believe it) lost hours on, just because we got to use a lightsabre and be Chewbacca.

Final Crisis

I wasn’t expecting to look forward to this at all, what with event fatigue and everything, and oh, I am conflicted. On one hand, I’ve lost all patience with DC obsessively crossing over every single title in their line with a frankly incomprehensible and (worse yet) fucking boring overarching plot. Never mind yet another Crisis.

But. But but but. Grant Morrison.

The interview with him over at Comic Book Resources last week utterly sold me on Batman RIP and this summer’s event, albeit with a few reservations. Obviously, Morrison is awesome and I check out damn near anything he writes, the epic scope of the DCU is never better than when he handles it, and the series promises (really really promises, honest this time) not to cross itself over to destruction. Heck, I’ve not got a huge interest in Darkseid or the Fourth World (one of these days I’ll get round to a post explaining why), and yet Morrison’s got me intrigued between the hints from 52 and the Mister Miracle section of Seven Soldiers.

The reservations: Will Morrison get micro-managed, especially if it looks like the series is already running late? Despite assurances, is it really going to be self-contained? If Geoff Johns and Peter Tomasi are on form with their tie-ins (both were involved in the Sinestro Corps War, remember, the best crossovery thing for many a year and a brilliant story in its own right) then I won’t mind dropping some cash on them, but I’m not a huge Greg Rucka fan and I’m not getting his issues so I’m hoping nothing important happens in them, and by important I mean “necessary for enjoyment and understanding of the greater story arc”, not “someone dies horribly”. I recall the fun of DC 1,000,000 being curtailed because of some important points that happened in fucking Resurrection Man, of all titles.

Speaking of the death thing, once again a story is being driven by someone important dying, and seriously, I don’t give a shit. Really I don’t. Used way too many times to be anything other than a cliché, so I really hope Morrison knows this and is going to go somewhere interesting and surprising with it (same goes for Batman RIP, actually). And from the interview, that looks like what he’s got planned, so I’ve got my fingers crossed that he’s going to pull it off. I have faith.

     Feed

I tagged Siskoid, and he tagged me right back, so let’s talk about writers some more. This time, let’s take a look at people who’s work is mostly, if not entirely, outside the comics industry.

George Pelecanos on Batman.

Or Daredevil, or any crime comic. I mentioned Pelecanos as part of the original challenge as an example of switching someone in from a different media, but it didn’t occur to me that people probably won’t recognise his name. He’s a crime novelist and screenwriter who’s been involved with The Wire, and I think a couple of films.

When I worked in the bookshop way back when I ran the crime section as well as Dragons, Spaceships and Underpants Guys. Outside of the Rebus novels (and more on them shortly), I hadn’t really read that much crime fiction, so I got through a lot in a short time to avoid looking like a slack-jawed shelf-filler should someone who knew their stuff appeared, because no one wants to be that guy who works at the Local Comic Shop but isn’t aware of more than two publishing companies.

Pelecanos was one of a set of American crime writers who do a specific kind of work, not so much mysteries or serial killers as examinations of police officers and the criminals they hunt. It’s very, very good stuff, and I don’t think I’d be too far off in suggesting that Ed Brubaker’s Criminal owes a lot to that school of writing, if not Pelecanos himself. And he doesn’t deal with small issues, either. The racial politics of Washington, D.C. (the actual living city rather than the white stone buildings of the capital, mostly) feature heavily, in novels set in the present and the 60s and 70s.

Although he’s not one of the biggest sellers in the field, I think there’s an objective argument to be made that he’s the best crime writer currently working, not to mention one of the best writers, period. So, yeah. Stick him on Batman.

Ian Rankin.

While I think Pelecanos is probably the best working crime writer, my favourite is Rankin, author of the John Rebus novels. Again, he’s in the top tier of British novelists writing anything, never mind crime, concentrating more on the study of people involved in both the police and the criminal community of Edinburgh rather than straight up murder mysteries, although there’s a lot of that too. And Rebus is the classic archetype of dogged, alcoholic investigator without any self-awareness or ability to play at politics, who pisses off (sometimes deliberately, sometimes not) damn near everyone he meets and will not let anything drop when he’s got his teeth into it.

It’s hardly surprising that the one comic Rankin’s been connected with is Hellblazer, via fellow Scot Denise Mina. I’m really looking forward to the run, should it ever appear, and there’s plenty of other titles I’d like to see him take a crack at. Maybe Marvel’s horror line, actually. Hellstrom, say, certainly as the last Max series seemed to take its cue from Contantine. Maybe the Question, too: original, rather than Montoya.

Alan Heinberg.

And speaking of the Question, last year at the Bristol convention, in a panel on telly writers in comics with Paul Cornell, Alan Heinberg mentioned that he was once involved in an attempt to make a Vic Sage Question series, although it fell through. He’s obviously a big fan of the character, and it would be interesting to see what tack he’s take. Although it would never come out.

     Feed

I have no idea where the topic for today’s post has come from. It’s a little bit about the X-Files, I suppose, but it’s mostly about Jurassic Park, which I haven’t seen, read or thought about for ages and ages.

One of the episode from the fourth series of the former has Cancer Man suggesting that Mulder is doing exactly as the Syndicate have anticipated, if not actively wanted. I hate this, the idea that the protagonist of any given story isn’t actually choosing their own path, but being a tool for someone else. It violates the story principle that everything important in a story should come about by decisions and actions taken by the main character. A relation to this is the climax of a film, book or whatever where everything is either resolved by someone other than the protagonist, by chance, by something completely unexpected (deus ex machina, for example), or, worst of all, by the villain. It’s usually only a rung down from “it was all a dream” in terms of satisfaction.

There was a heeyouge buzz about Jurassic Park when it first came out, the first film I can remember staying in the cinema for months and months on end. I loved both the book and the film, and I remember being about as exited for the release as I was for Spider-Man, years later. It was a seriously big deal, and I remember Triggi and me scouring issues of Empire and SFX and even the National Frickin’ Geographic for info on the flick. And hand on heart, it didn’t disappoint. Sure, it’s easy enough to keep twelve-year-old boys happy, and dinosaurs eating people is about the definition of that, but even so I still have a great fondness for the film today. Even now the special effects look way more convincing than in most SF, which is a hell of an achievement.

Robert McKee’s Story (which I’ve mentioned here more than once before) had a section on “deus ex machina” endings, and used Jurassic Park as the best example of this. Which I didn’t quite get at the time. Well, that’s not true. McKee isn’t wrong, not from that perspective. After all, it’s not the humans that save the day but the T. Rex (oh, erm, spoiler warning). But even though I have a loathing for that kind of ending, I just never associated it with that film. Plenty of people do, mind, as it seems every conversation I’ve had about the film since reading Story has someone saying they found the ending unsatisfactory.

It’s only now that I kind of see why, from my perspective (or perhaps the perspective of a twelve year old dinosaur fanatic), I don’t agree with them. Firstly, and most inconsequentially, aren’t there way better examples than the dinosaur film? Lousy boring film lecturer. Secondly, Spielberg has mentioned (in the Making Of book, I think) that part of the theme of the film was nature overcoming the limits humanity places on it, and that he didn’t think having San Neill killing the Velociraptors fitted this. But I mostly don’t care because it’s only an unsatisfactory ending if you’re rooting for the humans.

Look, I didn’t want the kids to die. I certainly didn’t want Drs. Grant and Sattler to buy it. But come on, they’re not the main attraction. I was right there with the thunder-lizards, baby, and there’s no question that the character (literally) chewing up the screen was the Tyrannosaurus. I didn’t think the T Rex saving them was crap. I thought it was the awesomest thing in motion picture history.

Funnily enough, that links in to why I wasn’t as keen on Jurassic Park III. I don’t mind the film, and I might even prefer it to The Lost World, but I did have a couple of problems with it. Firstly, I didn’t like the T Rex losing in a fight with Spinosaurus and I know, I know that’s a stupid reason but, you know, you don’t pay to see Batman being bested by a johnny-come-lately superhero, do you? Do you want the cinematic equivalent of pissing Knightfall? I didn’t. In fact, Triggi will testify that in the queue to see it I said I’d walk out if the T Rex got munched and got a funny look from the other cinema goers. Why should misdirected fan rage be restricted to comics?

And if anything, the ending to the third part was way less satisfying, it being the military turn up and save everyone (oh, spoilers again). That’s a way worse deus ex machina than “a goody dinosaur eats the baddy dinosaurs”, and seriously undermines the “nature wins” theme. You shouldn’t be thinking, “Oh yay, guys with guns will mow the suckers down and keep us safe”, you should be seeing the guys with guns being munched by the big scary monsters with big scary teeth.

     Feed

Lucio Fulci, George Romero wherefore art thou? I know we were given Land of the Dead two years ago, but who reading this can really say it filled their need for some post-apocalyptic Zombie fun? And now ol’ Georgey boy has sprung Diary of the Dead on us, a similar idea burst onto DVD last year like third zombie victim on the left’s lower intestines: Zombie Diaries. Who’s idea came first? Romero’s, or the guy in his bedroom who so obviously cobbled Diaries together from home video footage of his mates and his mum? And where has Romero set it? A forest. For fuck’s sake. Where are the abandoned buildings and blood splattered streets we were promised?

That is a cruelty too far. Diaries has its moments. The concept is three video diaries telling the tale of a bird flu (look, it’s current!) -like epidemic that for unexplained and baffling reasons turns people into the re-animated dead. The first of these diaries is the best as a trio of journalists investigate a remote farm. The tension does mount as they explore the house to find safety, but the very poor acting just makes it feel a bit Balamory. And look at the sly wink cameo of Doctor Legg from Eastenders! Who? The extras are unintentionally hilarious as the writers explain they wanted a cameo from a cult figure of British SF. McDowell turning up in Heroes it is not.

The likely inspiration for Zombie Diaries is the success of 28 Days Later and its sequel. Though they’re not the Z-word in these films the Infected are a great and fucking frightening creation. Which is why the intro for 28 Weeks is the best part of the film, ‘cause after that the Infected become a modern shaky-cam blur of a mess running through dark tunnels. Remember the bit where we hear about the London Underground in the first flick? The panic as infection moves through the crowd? Well, the idea is better than the execution. In ‘Weeks it’s so dark and messy it could just be slightly irate tourists lost on Paddington station bustling for the EXIT.

There remains hope though, and if you’ve seen the sheer terror of [•REC] you’ll know what I’m talking about. Forget about all the new zombie films. They will wither and starve when compared to this flick. This is what Diary of the Dead would be if Romero had any good ideas (and balls) left. And it’s the first mainstream flick to really do the Ground Zero of infection. The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue and Night of the Living Dead did first-wave of breakout stories but not like this. And it’s great that a modern flick doesn’t treat its audience like movie-devouring cattle that want big and beautiful and dazzling. It leaves shit unanswered. Lets you discuss the flick as you walk to the car as me and my crew did, theorizing and guessing what happened next. I really don’t want to say anything more about it, just beg and plead and fall on my knees and say see this ruddy film. ‘Cause its already been remade by a U.S. studio, they’re calling it Quarantine. Original. And the trailer spoils the ending, so SEE REC.

Which leads me to the comic that was truly made with me in mind, The Walking Dead. I bought this on the recommendation of the Fractal Hall, and it blew me-a-fucking-way. It does what all my favourite zombie films (Dawn, Day, Zombie Flesh Eaters) cannot. Never end. Robert Kirkman knows Zombies. He also knows people, and knows how to fuck with you, by making you love characters before having their heads chopped off. It’s the claustrophobia he captures so well, the idea that you’re confined, you walk too far away from your compound and you may just have a deadite munching on your heel. And you’re never safe. Every corner hides a potential for getting your knackers bitten or sliced off by a sadistic warmblood (this guy learnt a lot from the Preacher series.) Most fans are dreading Fox TV picking it up as a mid season replacement, and introducing a wise cracking 20 something to the cast of characters. They’d probably call him Joey.

     Feed