The Fractal Hall Journal

I notice that the World War 2 Marvel film is provisionally titled “The First Avenger: Captain America”, or something to that effect. I assume that it’s only a step from here to retitling it “The First Avenger”, or maybe just “Avenger”, in non-US countries.

Interesting, in a way. In an attempt to appeal to us UnAmericans the new GI JOE film involves an “international” team, something that’s irritated fans and caused some wholly irrelevant farting around from the kind of people who lost it when Perry White didn’t say “American Way” in Superman Returns. I’d be curious to know whether they honestly think the rest of the world will flock to see the film because the American paramilitary fetish has now been lightly veiled, whether we’d all go to see it even if it was all Starred and Spangly because everyone (at least, everyone with the taste in entertainment of a 10 year old) has a paramilitary fetish anyway, or even whether the rest of the world cares. The biggest mistake they may have made is that the brand just doesn’t have the mass appeal or fuzzy nostalgia of Transformers, though I concede I could be wrong about that.

I suppose my point is that, sure, considering recent actions the rest of the world isn’t inclined to get all rah-rah about the US army. And believe me, if the Eurovision Song Contest results are anything to go by, the Brits don’t have a fantastic rep either. Does it matter in terms of a Captain America film? Probably, although I don’t think the Iraq debacle has soured anyone on the fun to be had in Razi-bashing. I don’t think trying to obscure the title will make much difference to this. A title change won’t make people miss which hero is being featured in the film, and in fact a title change will just bring round a news cycle of aforementioned irrelevant farting. Maybe that’s the plan- they say any publicity’s good publicity, after all.

Superman isn’t always effected by his status as an American avatar. While the American Way stuff is an intrinsic part of his character these days, it doesn’t take much rationalising for the rest of us to be able to relate to him regardless of nationality. Captain America’s a little tougher because, well. He’s called Captain fucking America.

Is that a bad thing? Hells no. Of course not. That’s his entire raison d’être. What goes with that is the character has to carry that too, good times or bad, and tough shit if you’re the movie’s marketing guy.

On a slightly related note, not too long ago a friend of mine tried to get me to pick up the new Captain Britain comic, written by Paul Cornell, a thoroughly nice bloke and an excellent writer whether of books, comics or on the new Who. Problem was, my friend also said something along the lines of “And he’s a British superhero too- don’t you want to support that?”.

And that, there, is the heart of the problem. I have no particular animosity to the character. I’ve got no particular animosity to anyone who feels they are “British”, or to the concept of “Britain”. But that’s not how I identify myself. That’s not who I feel I am. And no, I don’t really want to support the concept of a Captain Britain (I hasten to add that’s a very subjective personal opinion, and not something I expect anyone else to subscribe to), because I already feel that the Welsh, the Scots, even the English themselves get short changed, culturally, by anything that lumps us all in together.

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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.

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Didn’t realise until today, but this week marks six months of consistant blogging. So I’m celebrating. Thinking about it, as the comics industry thinks 25 issues are noteworthy I might start partying every three months.

Transformers fandom is the source of a lot of bewilderment among even the nerdiest adherents of comic shop culture. Part of it is a generational thing (in that if you didn’t grow up with the toys your stunted emotional development is likely focused elsewhere and I’m looking at you, sports fans), part of it is that robots don’t float everybody’s boat. Which is fair enough. I mean, I don’t have the first clue why superhero comics folk go nuts over monkeys, and I’m finding the announcement of Congorilla as a member of a new Justice League team somewhat underwhelming.

Speaking of which, at the Wizard World LA DCU panel writer James Robinson announced that “People are going to love this character by the time I’m done with him”. LXG aside, I rate Robinson highly as a writer, but he’ll have to pull off something pretty fucking special to make an Imperial era Kiplingesque white supremacist appealing to me.

Enough apes. I’m certain that the continuing popularity of the Transformers is due to Simon Furman’s writing. He’s an under-rated creator, and it’s difficult to impart how mind-blowing it was to read his stuff at a fairly early age. Because no one gave a crap about a toy licence, he was given huge scope to write whatever the hell he wanted. Sure, the toys were popular without him, but it was the epic, grand-scale vision he brought to the title that were used as the foundation of all subsequent iterations. A hell of a lot of his concepts have been used in not only the cartoons of the 90s and 00s, but the film itself. The hugely popular film, which wouldn’t have been made if it wasn’t for the unanticipated success of the Dreamwave revival, greatly influenced and bought in droves by fans of Furman (FoFs? Someone should make a badge. And a fanclub newsletter).

I think the reason for their popularity outside of Furman’s influence is their nature as not only both a toy vehicle and action figure (a two for one deal), but also a kind of puzzle. A way of rearranging and altering elements from one pattern into another that appeals to a mindset of construction and applied reasoning that I’d argue is related to the popularity of jigsaws, Lego and Nintendo Brain Training. Just look at the movie designs; graphic aesthetics were not the first box that needed to be ticked.

Michael Bay’s robots weren’t designed to be simplified or even elegant (compare to the more organic and trimmed down look of Transformers Animated, or even The Spectacular Spider-Man). They were designed from an engineer’s perspective, the emphasis being put on figuring out how one element can be splintered then moved and rotated into a different configuration. The robots are all huge puzzle boxes, and although the busy designs have been rightfully criticised as over-complex and confusing the intricacy of their creation nevertheless impresses.

And that concludes today’s earnest analysis of extra-long product advertisements.

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Apologies in advance to anyone trying to read off the radar in work, but there’s a lot of images in today’s post as Sheikspear’s Movie Poster Challenge was too much of a good excuse to avoid writing something substantial too much fun to pass up. The following is more of a list I found from an idle search rather than a definitive one, but there’s still some prettiness here.

Heroes

The only one of these posters I actually own. The Batman’s coming to mess you up, and this time he’s got a proper cloak.

Damn, I love Rocky. His whole life was a 1,000,000 – 1 shot, and that’s straight from William Hill’s mouth.

This poster is here for one reason only: I cannot wait for the new Iron Man movie regardless of all the good work Marvel have put in over the past couple of years making Tony Stark an utterly inlikable prick. I would never ever thought I’d see this movie in my lifetime, never mind with such a brilliant cast and Gwyneth Paltrow. And how good is that mask? Just the right mix of shiny new-car chrome and cutting edge ultra mod cool-blue LED.

I probably need to go lie down now.

Classic Monster Movies

Damn if I’m not excited just looking at that poster. Even if it does use a horrific shade of yellow (and more on that hue shortly).

I’m going to have to put my hand up and admit I’ve never seen this one, but that poster is awesome. And probably better than the movie.

But this one I have seen, and effing love. A classic, even if the scream queen’s face looks a little, er, off.

And Now, Three Crap Ones

Obviously, the approach to this post hasn’t so much been to think of a poster first, rather than google films I like and see if the poster was any good. And these ones are shit.

One of the greatest courtroom dramas of all time, and the poster is a hideous yellow hallucination.The knife, the hyperactive tagline, a logo that looks like fucking Ben Hur.

And speaking of powerful drama, here’s a lackluster effort that rises above bland by once again employing that eye-gouging lemon tint.

And finally, the worst of all. Another amazing film badly let down. And not because of the colour, either. No, the tragedy of this one is it it could have been a classic, but the artist seems to have squeezed Flynn’s eyes together. Unless Errol really did have a face that was smaller than his head.

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Insert Red Lantern here.

The ongoing controversy over Wonder Woman. I have only one point to make on this: it doesn’t matter what her creator’s motives were in creating her. Pro-feminist, pro-fetish, pro-yogic flying for all I care. What matters is what the character has come to represent.

Golden Age Superman was an FDR Lefty fighting for the workin’ man. Does that get trotted out much these days? Does it fuck. Superman came to represent, for better or worse, something different over time. Or Batman. Has he killed anyone lately? Even Spider-Man stopped being a hard-luck loser living with his au… oh, wait.

Anyway, what is the general impression of Wonder Woman? I think that’s probably the heart of the matter. I’m not American so maybe things are different this side of the pond, but I don’t think she’s mostly thought of as a male fetish object. Maybe within the stifling confines of the all-male comic nerd crowd. Maybe. But not so much to everyone else.

If anything, the impression of Wonder Woman is a goofy Seventies heroine (thanks, of course, to the eldritch power of the Idiot Box). But she isn’t marketed over here as a sex object. On the rare occasions she turns up, it’s on bags and t-shirts aimed at non-nerd women. She’s got the same retro appeal as My Little Pony, and frankly she’s about as sexy. Women don’t buy these things because they want a male lust-object on their coffee mug. Hell, some of these products only have the double doubleyous, neither tits nor leotard required.

The reasons these things are bought is because on some level the buyers think they’re kind of cool, even in a nerdy or look-how-mad-and-kooky-I-am kind of way. And these aren’t people in our insular little subset. I’m talking general populace here. Why do people think the products are cool? Because they like Wonder Woman. We can argue about the creator’s proclivities or fanboy fetishes, not to mention DC’s somewhat erratic marketing policies till the cows come home, but the fact remains: Wonder Woman the character is out in the wider world, and she’s not seen (or rather, not exclusively seen) solely as biff material. She’s the world’s most recognisable female super-hero, and one that lots of women like; enough of them to market product towards. And I’d bet all the money in my pockets against all the money in your pockets it’s because she’s a powerful, likable super-hero icon, not that she’s only good for having a really thorough stroke over.

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Last week, I ate a packet of Walkers Sunbites. The product, sharpshite, not the actual plastic packaging. On the back of said packaging was a typically toothgrinding blurb about, I don’t know, explosively wholegrainy goodness, and the patronising advertising language sent me off on a somewhat unbalanced rant. Luckily for you folks, I don’t recall the details. Unluckily, on the other hand, I’ve had another less than satisfactory taste sensation today, which I remember very well and am intent on telling you all about. And this time, the packaging is the least of it. Let’s start there anyway.

Brand new Walkers Chili and Lemon Crisps are contained in a packet delicately shaded in technicolour yellow vomit, nothing less than (to paraphrase This Is Spinal Tap) an Australian’s nightmare. The glurge on the back brightly informs us that, in some twisted, unknowable way, Walkers think this potato snack is breaking down cultural barriers all across the nation, if not the world. The product itself is not so much ‘crisps’ as ‘compact chemical weapon delivery devices’, insulting on several aesthetic levels at once. Visually, they exude a glowing orange hue not unlike a 60s B-movie interpretation of radioactive material. And in matters of taste, they possess a delicate lemon curd flavour immediately followed by the searing, tearing acid of what I can only assume to be chilis derived excusively from mammal-dissolving mutated killplants, the only creatures on Earth to naturally produce biowarfare contaminants.

And don’t worry if you feel a whole packet isn’t enough to fully savour this unique experience, as they will taint your palate for the rest of the day, adding an intrusive je-ne-sais-quoi to every single thing you subsequently consume.

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If there’s one thing that underlines the unique atmosphere of somewhere foreign to you, it’s the advertising.

Adverts have been a constant almost everywhere I’ve travelled to, and like lichen, or fungus, their appearance and composition varies according to region. The contrast to British advertising is, obviously, more apparent when it’s a language I’m not familiar with, but the difference still holds in countries where English is the primary language.

In Canada and the US, it’s the film posters that stand out. Ones for movies unlikely to be released back home for months, if not doomed to plunge straight to video (and isn’t that fast becoming an archaic phrase?); the subtle shift of a personal time-frame, as if I’m on holiday a little into the future.

It’s the same kind of feeling I used to get from imported US comics when I was small. To launch into old-fartery for a second, the advertisements don’t seem so exotic anymore. Most of the time, they’re just a branch of a campaign that’s already running over here, and even if they’re not, the tone and style is practically identical across the board, a slick scientific psychological method honed over a hundred years of consumer culture. The 21st Century: even the advertising is generic and homogenised.

But at the time, it was a strange contrast to the adverts in the Beano, or Marvel UK’s Transformers. Toys and chocolates alien to Wales and a complete lack of anything from Cadbury’s. Television listings for channels unknown to someone used to the four broadcast in Britain, for programmes that would never make it over the Pond. An occasional dip into a culture very familiar but still undeniably different to my own.

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