You, Zombie

In honor of Short Story Month and Zombie Awareness Month, I decided to try my hand at some second-person, present-tense prose.  I whipped it up quickly so it’s raw and unpolished, but then again, it is a zombie story, so perhaps raw is appropriate . . .

You, Zombie

By Michael Rappa

The hunger.  Oh God, the hunger.  What is this compulsion to eat raw flesh?  The taste—the foul, foul taste.  You want to vomit but your body craves the blood, the sinew, the ligaments.  You grow stronger with each bite of spongy muscle.  You wish you could just starve yourself into oblivion but it seems the will to exist persists beyond death.

So you move on in search of your next meal—your next victim.  You can’t stop.  When a human enters your line of site or wanders into the radius of your supernatural sense of smell, primal instinct takes over.  You’re a shark on feet . . . well, one foot and a stub (the zombie that turned you into this abomination ate most of your right foot for dinner).  Last week you consumed your first child.  You live every day with her screams in your head.  The undead never sleep so the screams never stop.

You beg people for help but they don’t seem to understand what you’re saying.  You try to let them kill you but your body fights back when they attack.  You have no control.  You’re a slave to the affliction.  You’re terribly lonely.  You can’t even communicate with your fellow zombies.  They’re not kin; they’re competition.

You just want to go home, to see a familiar face, to forget this hellish existence—even if only for a moment.  So you hobble down a corpse-littered street to the crimson-colored Cape Cod-style cottage of your youth.  Surely your parents won’t turn you away.  You knock (bang) on the door and call (groan) their names (something unintelligible).  Your father opens the door and points a shotgun at you.

“Go away!” he hollers as a tear rolls down his cheek.

You plead with him, but he only pumps the weapon in response.

“I said go!  You’re not my child!  You’re a monster!  My child is dead!”

“Please, don’t shoot!” you hear your mother cry from inside the house.  She runs out to stand between you and your father.  “Please don’t shoot our baby!”

The gun shakes in your father’s hand and he breaks out into a sob as he drops it to the ground.  He slumps down beside it.  Your mother turns and opens her arms.  You rush to embrace her.  She will make everything better; she always has.

You want to ask her why she’s suddenly screaming but she always told you never to talk with your mouth full.  Your father tries to pry your teeth away from her throat but you cling to her flesh like a ravenous animal.  He reaches for the gun and points it at your head, but by this time the neighborhood zombies have been alerted to the commotion and he is overrun.  The undead mob scratches and claws and you soon find yourself on the outside of the feeding frenzy that quickly turns your parents into mounds of meat.

So you begin to walk away.  For a moment you pause and look back, overwhelmed by sadness and guilt—but only for a moment.  Then you move on in search of your next meal.  You can’t stop.

The man in black fled across the desert, and Ron Howard directed…

Rejoice, Constant Readers.  At long last, Stephen King’s epic saga, The Dark Tower, is making the leap to the big screen, directed by Opie Cunningham himself, Ron Howard.  For those who don’t know, The Dark Tower is King’s magnum opus, the nexus of his entire body of work, with references to the Dark Tower sprinkled throughout the majority of his novels.  The task of adapting this behemoth to the screen (seven books clocking in at over a million words, not to mention several ancillary stories that may become part of the films) is going to make The Lord of the Rings look like a one-act play.

Many fans have heaped scorn upon the choice of Howard to direct (I guess they were hoping for Peter Jackson, Guillermo del Toro, or someone of that ilk).  I, for one, will withhold judgment until I see the final product.  Howard has made many solid films over the years, and for what it’s worth, he seems to have a deep passion for the project (he worked on it for a year before even presenting the idea to Stephen King)–and there is no way that King would let his baby go unless he was confident that Howard was going to do his books justice.  This is not Maximum Overdrive or Christine–The Dark Tower is the center of King’s entire literary universe, and he would not hand over the rights lightly.

The doubters claim that Howard’s body of work leaves no indication that he is capable of taking on a project like this, but was Peter Jackson in a much different position before he began work on Lord of the Rings?  And we all know how that turned out.  I’m intrigued by the way Howard has chosen to approach the material: a movie trilogy sandwiched around two television series that bridge the three films.  Such a concept is unprecedented in cinematic history; it will be interesting to see how it all shakes out.  It certainly gives the filmmakers latitude to flesh out more of the story than a strict film series would have provided.  I wonder, though, how much of the source material will need to be censored in the television series.  It would seem to be better suited for a premium channel, but then how many fans would follow it?  On the other hand, there have been a few network television miniseries over the years that have done a credible job with King’s work, so perhaps this can work as well.

The most important element of the production is going be the selection of the actor to play series protagonist Roland Deschain, a gunslinger in much the same vein as Clint Eastwood’s character from Sergio Leone’s classic series of spaghetti westerns, with a little bit of Arthurian regalness mixed in.  Howard has offered this critical part to Javier Bardem (I have to admit that I have trouble seeing him in this role, but he is an outstanding actor, so I will place my faith in Howard’s judgment).  At this point Bardem has yet to accept and there’s no guarantee that he will, for he would be required to commit a huge chunk of the next decade of his life to a single character on both the big and small screen–how many A-list actors would be willing to do that?  It could be that we end up with a relative unknown in the role, which might actually be preferable.

Regardless of the choices Howard makes as the project moves forward (and their inevitable dissection by the fan base), I look forward with great excitement to those first moments on the big screen when the Man in Black flees across the desert with the Gunslinger in hot pursuit.  And to borrow a phrase from the High Speech of Roland’s hometown of Gilead, I say thankee-sai.

Oh No, Not Another Year-End Countdown…

It’s the time of year when entertainment writers around the country begin publishing their “best of” lists for the year, so I’ve decided to throw my hat into the ring with a list of my favorite new shows of 2010.  Notice that I say “favorite” rather than “best of.”  I cannot do a proper “best of” list without having seen every single new show that debuted in 2010, so if one of your favorite new shows is not on this list, chances are that I haven’t seen it.

There are a few interesting things to note about this list, not the least of which is that three of my top five shows (Caprica, Rubicon, Terriers) have already been canceled, while a fourth (The Event) probably won’t make it to a second season, a trend that does not bode well for quality programming on television.  Another thing that stands out about this list is that only two of the shows are on network television (and only one on a “big-three” network), a testament to the fact that most of the best TV can now be found on cable channels like AMC, FX and USA.

A few other interesting tidbits: only half of these shows debuted in the fall, none of them are sitcoms (unless you count Ugly Americans), and none of them are reality shows (you will never find a reality show in any “best of” list of mine, but that’s a story for another article).

So, without further ado, here are my ten favorite new shows of the year.  In parentheses are the time of year they debuted and the channel where you can find them.

10.  Ugly Americans (Spring, Comedy Central)
This half-hour cartoon fits right in with Comedy Central’s late night lineup.  The premise of the show is an alternate New York where monsters are integrated into society.  The main character, Mark, works for the Department of Integration as a support group counselor for monsters, has a zombie roommate who often winds up losing parts of his body, and a half-demon girlfriend with a tendency to flip out, hell-style.  Though the gags can be hit or miss, the hits are often hysterical, and the Manbird episode was one of the funniest things I’ve seen this year.

9.  Covert Affairs (Summer, USA)
The first of two spy dramas on the list, this started out as one of those guilty pleasure shows that got better with each episode.  I almost didn’t watch it because early reviews tagged it as a pale imitation of Alias (one of my favorite shows).  This show is definitely not on an Alias level, but it is more grounded in reality (i.e. no Rambaldi mythology), so it has been able to carve its own niche.  The always watchable Piper Perabo is surrounded by a strong supporting cast, making this a good hour of escapist entertainment.

8.  Nikita (Fall, WB)
The other spy show on my list could have gone wrong in so many ways trying to build another series around the classic La Femme Nikita, but rather than retreading or rebooting the film, the creators chose to set the series after the events of the film with a little twist: Nikita’s lover was murdered by Division and she has made it her life’s work to bring them down.  To help her, she has placed a mole inside Division as a recruit, enabling her to stay a step ahead of the organization in a weekly game of cat and mouse.  This series is a little weightier than Covert Affairs (a significant death has already occurred), and a strong cast led by Maggie Q make this a solid hour of television.

7.  The Event (Fall, NBC)
The Event is one of those mythology shows that require you to pay attention on a weekly basis, ala Lost or Fringe.  While not in the same league as those two stellar shows, it nevertheless succeeds in pulling you into the story and making you wonder about the nature of the “guests.”  Are they aliens?  Time travelers?  Something else?  Who are the people behind the attempt to kill the president and why?  Unfortunately, NBC has done the show no favors by placing it on a long winter hiatus–this is normally a death sentence for a serialized drama (i.e. Jericho, Flash Forward) because many viewers never return.  I have a feeling that the run of episodes scheduled to air in late February will be the show’s last.

6.  Justified (Spring, FX)
This series was made for Timothy Olyphant.  If you were one of the many to lament the loss of his Seth Bullock character when Deadwood was canceled, this is the show for you.  Olyphant’s Raylan Givens is arguably the most bad-ass character on television.  The series is essentially a modern day western set in Kentucky.  Raylan is a U.S. Marshal reassigned from Miami to the district covering his hometown due to what his bosses believe is a tendency to be quick on the trigger.  Back in his hometown, Raylan must deal not only with criminals, but also with his estranged ex-con father, his ex-wife, and a witness with whom he begins an affair.  The best relationship, however, is between Raylan and Boyd Crowder (played by the excellent Walton Goggins), a childhood friend who grew up to be a criminal.  Their confrontation in the series premiere has consequences that last throughout the first season.  The second season begins in January; you should check it out.

5.  Caprica (Winter, Syfy)
This Battlestar Galactica (BSG) spinoff was a victim of Syfy’s seemingly decreasing tolerance for serialized science fiction (see Stargate Universe, the latest casualty of this unfortunate trend) in favor of lighter fare like Eureka and Warehouse 13.  Don’t get me wrong, both of the latter are very enjoyable shows, but I prefer some weight to my sci-fi, and Caprica delivered the goods.  Admittedly, the series started off slow and likely alienated many BSG fans expecting something more action-oriented, but, much like a Joss Whedon or JJ Abrams series, it got better as it progressed and rewarded viewers who stuck around.  Caprica explored weighty subjects like religious fanaticism, terrorism, racism, coping with tragic loss, and the dehumanization of a technologically advanced society, not to mention depicting the origin of cylons and laying the seeds for the eventual downfall of humanity.  One of the coolest scenes happened late in the series when a prototype cylon was used by a mobster to annihilate his enemies before uttering the familiar phrase, “By your command,” in the well-known cylon voice from the original series.  The show would likely have gotten even better from there as it moved closer to the rise of the cylons, but alas, we’ll never know.  Fortunately, Syfy will be burning off the remaining five unaired episodes in a marathon on January 4th.  I, for one, will be watching.  Even knowing that the series is not coming back, it will be worth it.

4.  Rubicon (Summer, AMC)
Rubicon was one of the more cerebral shows that I’ve seen on television, with a dense, labyrinthine plot–a thinking man’s drama about an analyst for a government think tank who uncovers a vast conspiracy during his investigation into a mentor’s death.  Unfortunately, in this age of instant gratification television, Rubicon may have been too smart for its own good.  It was the type of series that, had you missed an episode, it would have been very difficult to figure out what was going on.  It was also largely devoid of action, which turned off many viewers (the lack of promotion by AMC in comparison to its other shows didn’t help, either).  Rubicon may have been mostly dialogue-oriented, but that just served to make the few scenes of action more fierce and jarring than they otherwise would have been.  This show made many critics’ year-end top-ten lists, and rightly so.

3.  The Walking Dead (Fall, FX)
This has the potential to be the best show on television.  The main reason it didn’t rank higher for me was the small sample (only six episodes in the first season).  However, The Walking Dead provided more quality television in those six episodes than most shows accomplish in a year.  I was originally just moderately intrigued when I first heard about the series, but when I discovered that Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile) was heavily involved (writing and directing the first episode), I became very excited to see it–and it more than lived up to the hype.  If you haven’t watched it because you’re not a big zombie fan, I urge you to give it a shot.  It’s really more of a morality/survival drama that just happens to have zombies in it.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of gore in keeping with the zombie genre (the episode titled “Guts” is … well, it’s in the title), but overall the show is about the relationships and conflicts among a group of people who have survived an apocalypse, and the choices they must make to stay alive.  Television doesn’t get much better than this.

2.  Terriers (Fall, FX)
Terriers was the most pleasant surprise (and most disappointing cancellation) of the entire year.  This unheralded show quickly became must-see TV (for me and the other two people in the country who watched it).  Normally when a series this great fails, I’m quick to blame reality television and the short attention span of the average American TV viewer, but in this case the show’s failure can be attributed to poor marketing and an unfortunate title that didn’t give viewers any idea of what the show was about (hint: it was not about dogs).  I almost didn’t tune in myself because the ads made it appear to be just another throwaway buddy detective romp, but I decided to give it a shot because I like Donal Logue.  I’m glad I did because this show turned out to be so much more than its billing.  Far from the lightweight buddy comedy it was sold as, Terriers (with its gritty realism) was actually more akin to the great noir films of cinema. The entire season with its main story arc and numerous subplots played like a novel with well-drawn characters who you actually cared about.  A stellar cast and superb writing set this series above almost anything else on television.  Mystery, crime, romance, family drama, comic relief, heartbreak, shocking deaths–this show had it all, and it’s a tragedy that it never found an audience.  I saw several columns written by critics throughout the season singing the show’s praises and urging people to tune in–if only FX had been half as enthusiastic in its own promotion of the show, perhaps it would still be on the air. Like Rubicon, Terriers made many critics’ top-ten lists for the year (noticing a pattern here?), and I even saw one critic rank it as the best new show of the year.  I was tempted to put it in the top spot myself, that’s how much I loved this show.

1.  Boardwalk Empire (Fall, HBO)
With top-notch production values (including dazzling sets that faithfully recreate 1920′s Atlantic City), great writing, and a stellar cast, Boardwalk Empire is like watching a mini motion picture on a weekly basis, but I would expect nothing less from the legendary Martin Scorcese (who directed the opening episode and remains heavily involved in the production of the series).  Steve Buscemi is great as Nucky Thompson, the crime boss who runs Atlantic City, while a zealous treasury agent, played with brilliant creepiness by Michael Shannon, attempts to bring him down.  What’s great about the show is that it doesn’t just focus on Atlantic City; we also get to visit Chicago, where a young Al Capone interns under Johnny Torrio, and New York, where Arnold Rothstein (performed with great malevolence by Michale Stuhlbarg), runs things while mentoring the likes of Lucky Luciano and Meyer Lansky, two young gangsters who will one day run the most powerful organized crime organization in the country.  While not quite on the level of The Sopranos, Boardwalk Empire is nevertheless the best new show on television, and a welcome return of the gangster genre to the small screen.

Honorable Mention: Futurama (Summer, Cartoon Network)
I know what you’re thinking: “This isn’t a new show!”  Technically that’s correct, but Futurama deserves special recognition since this was its first new season in seven years.  Not only did the writers not miss a beat, but I think the show is actually better than it was during its initial run.

Well, that’s it for 2010.  Here’s hoping that the best new shows in 2011 actually survive past a first season.  Until then, have fun ringing in the new year, which I’ll be spending the same way I always do: sitting on the couch and watching the Twilight Zone marathon (though I may check in on the Buffy and Honeymooners marathons as well).

Happy New Year!

Keep Krampus in Christmas

I would be remiss during this season if I did not touch on the most dominant cultural event in the world: Comic-Con.  Just kidding.  I’m talking, of course, about Christmas—a time for joy, giving, family, and . . . listening to the oppressed majority complain that the secularist heathens of the world have declared war on their beloved holiday.  These Christmas purists lament that the true meaning of the holiday has been lost—that we in America have relegated a pivotal symbol of Christmas to the sidelines.  You know what?  I agree, and it’s high time we rescued this figure from the fringes of the yuletide wastelands and restored him to his rightful place at the forefront of Christmas prominence.  So join me in demanding that we keep Krampus in Christmas.

“Krampus?” you may ask, “what the grinch are you talking about?”  Well, why don’t you grab a cup of cocoa, sit down by the fire, and let me tell you a Christmas story.  In many European traditions, Krampus is a grotesque, devil-like being who accompanies St. Nick during the holiday season.  While the latter gives gifts to the good children of the world, Krampus punishes the naughty children in scary ways, and his myth is still prominent in many places around Europe.  It’s a shame that Krampus never made the trip to the States with Santa Claus, Christmas trees, and Yule logs.  How much better behaved would children be if they feared retribution by Krampus?  I mean, what kid nowadays is really afraid of a little coal in his stocking?  Today’s kids need something with a little more oomph to strike the fear of Christmas into them.  Too cruel?  Naa.  If European kids can handle Krampus, our tough kids surely can.  U.S.A!  U.S.A!

Imagine how different our traditions would be if Krampus had made it over here.  Song lyrics like “You better watch out,” “He’s making a list,” and “He sees you when you’re sleeping” would carry much darker connotations, while the most famous Christmas poem might have been entirely different: “Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, Krampus was stirring, he stomped on a mouse.”  And how much cooler would those claymation Christmas specials have been with a little taste of Krampus?  Over time, he could have become one of the more popular Christmas characters and, just as Santa Claus has become more benign over the years (from his darker beginnings), I imagine Krampus taking a similar path (also known as the Godzilla path): the bad guy in earlier films, the good guy in later films.  The older films would depict Krampus threatening Christmas while newer films would have him stepping in to save Christmas from some outside threat.

One could also imagine what a day in the life would be like for Santa and Krampus.  Do they talk to each other or not?  A trip around the world in that tiny sleigh would be a long time to sit there in awkward silence.  Do they live together at the North Pole?  Talk about the ultimate odd couple!  I could see Santa as the Oscar-like slob leaving his red suits all over the place, much to the ire of the uptight, Felix-like Krampus, who constantly yells at Santa to pick up after himself.  Or do they never see each other at all except on Christmas Eve?  Perhaps they just clock out at the end of the day like the wolf and sheepdog from that Warner Brothers cartoon: “Good night, Claus.”  “Good night, Kramp.”

How much different would our decorations be?  In Europe men dress as Krampus, carrying chains, bells, and switches to scare kids (and the adults use the Krampus festivals as an excuse to drink all weekend).  Perhaps our Christmas lights would be strung on festive chains, and maybe we’d have candy switches instead of candy canes.  On Christmas Eve, in addition to leaving milk and cookies for Santa, we might leave beer and brats for Krampus.  The possibilities are endless.

So let’s all work together to keep Krampus in Christmas.  And remember, kids, if you hear an extra set of hooves on the roof on Christmas Eve, you may just be getting a visit from the malevolent monster himself.  Pleasant dreams and Merry Christmas!

Harry Potter and the Deathly Split

Welcome, readers, to my inaugural post for Pop Cultural Capital.  Before we begin, introductions are in order—or, to borrow a quote from a certain thawed British spy, “Allow myself to introduce . . .  myself.”  My name is Mike.  No, not that Mike–a different one.  I tend to go by Michael professionally, so to avoid confusion with one of the moderators of this blog, you can call me Michael.  When Mike (the other one) invited me to contribute to this blog, I wasn’t sure what my debut would be.  I thought about opening with some sort of list ranking my favorite films (as Mike can tell you, I’m quite fond of creating lists to rank different elements of pop culture; we’ve had many such discussions over the years–and I think we both saw a frightening amount of ourselves in the main character of High Fidelity).  But lists are easy, so I figured I would save that for a time when I can’t think of anything else to write.

Instead, I decided to begin my first contribution with a question that came to mind after seeing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1. Should a work of fiction written as a single volume be split into two films for the purposes of including as much of the source material as possible?  This seems to be a growing trend in the film industry (Tolkien’s The Hobbit is getting the same treatment).  Some have argued that the decision to split the final Harry Potter (HP) book into two films was nothing more than a cynical cash grab by the studio.  While there is definitely some truth to this, let’s assume for the purpose of this piece that the filmmakers’ intentions were completely noble–to be as faithful as possible to the novel on which the films are based.

This raises another question: How important is it for a film to be completely faithful to its source material?  After all, the most critically acclaimed film in the HP series was Prisoner of Azkaban, which took several liberties with the novel, while the longest book in the series, Order of the Phoenix, was turned into the shortest film but still worked quite well in spite of all the source material that was excised.

Purists absolutely hate when a movie doesn’t follow a book to the letter.  Admittedly, I, too, have been annoyed on occasion when my favorite parts of books were not included in the film versions.  However, I recognize that movies are a different medium and have limitations that books don’t.  One prime example that comes to mind is Stanley Kubrick’s polarizing film version of Stephen King’s The Shining. On one side are fans of the novel who loathed Kubrick’s adaptation because of how badly it bastardized the original story.  On the opposite side are those of us who were able to look past the film’s glaring omissions and outright changes to appreciate it as one of the greatest horror movies ever made.  Years later, the fans who wanted a more faithful adaptation of The Shining got their wish when King endorsed a miniseries version that virtually followed the novel verbatim.  This version, however, paled in comparison to Kubrick’s masterpiece, proving that a faithful adaptation does not guarantee great cinema.

Does this mean that filmmakers should disregard the contents of the novel they are adapting?  Of course not.  The history of cinema is littered with the carcasses of awful films based on books (many of them, as it happens, from King’s oeuvre).  The trick is to find a happy balance between doing the book justice and making a compelling film—just because something works on the page does not mean it will translate to film.  Peter Jackson, for example, was smart enough to jettison the Tom Bombadil character from his film adaptation of The Fellowship of the Ring.

Which brings me back to the latest HP flick.  I saw a good 30 minutes in Part 1 that probably could have been cut with no major loss to the story, particularly during the slow moving “camping” section of the film.  They also could have saved time by cutting the wedding scene (there was no point in introducing Bill Weasley at this stage of the series when he was completely omitted from the previous films).  This does not mean that it is a bad film (it’s well made and acted), but overall, as the first half of a single story, it is by necessity all buildup with no payoff (it basically plays as a 2.5-hour setup for the forthcoming Part 2).  When paired with the final film, Part 1 will look much better, but as a standalone film, it doesn’t quite work.  Rather than ending with a compelling cliffhanger, the film basically just stops, as if you had closed a book after completing a chapter (with the knowledge that you can’t pick it up again for eight months).

“Who cares?” many HP fans say, “they’re not meant to be viewed as two separate films.” To which I would reply, “All the more reason why it should have been released as a single film.”  If all extraneous material had been excised from the novel, it’s certainly possible that The Deathly Hallows could have been presented as one long film clocking in at less than four hours, rather than an artificially split two-parter that will probably exceed five hours in combined length.

This brings us back to my original question: Should a work of fiction written as a single volume be split into two films?  While splitting The Deathly Hallows did not quite work, this does not mean that it can’t be done.  I believe that a story structured with natural breaks (as in some King novels) might be adaptable to multiple films.  There’s also the option of altering a story’s structure, as Quentin Tarantino did with Kill Bill, which was originally scripted as one film but ultimately split into two volumes at the urging of the studio.  Tarantino’s talent for telling a story out of chronological order enabled each film to work both individually and as part of a whole.  Granted, Kill Bill was not a novel, but the concept is similar.

So, have I really provided a definitive answer to either of my questions?  No, but I hope you found the topic interesting, nonetheless.  Anyway, I fear this post is getting rather long and in danger of devolving into a ramble (or perhaps I already crossed that line several paragraphs ago), so I’m going to end it here.  I suppose I should have taken my own advice and edited out some unnecessary material, or maybe [gulp] I should have split this post into two parts!

In closing, I’d like to thank Mike and Paul for inviting me to contribute to this cool blog, and hopefully, if I haven’t bored you to death by this point, you’ll stick around to read my future posts.  Until then, may the Force be with you (sorry–I couldn’t discuss pop culture for this long without making at least one Star Wars reference).

Guy of Thunder?

As I read the press and chatter about the upcoming Thor movie Marvel Studios will release in May 2011, I have to wonder: Are they actually going to present Thor as the Norse god of thunder, in the direct and literal way the character has appeared in Marvel comics for decades? The discussion is well underway about whether or not Thor will fit into an expanding Marvel film universe that has so far offered us Iron Man and the Hulk, with Captain America to follow. For one good outline of the issue, see Ben Child’s post at Film Blog.

In terms of origins/backstories, these other characters fall into the category of wonky comic-book science, and therefore make for a shorter stretch into a “rational” world. But a deity–an actual deity, taken whole from mythology–that seems like another thing altogether. This is the kind of thing that goes by without a blink in the pages of comics but raises eyebrows when acted out in live-action on a movie screen. Think of the fanboy angst that accompanied the all-black Batman costume in 1989, the crying out for the traditional blue-and-gray batsuit, and consider how bad that costume would have looked on screen, how much more difficult it would have made it to portray Batman as a dark, troubled character. The transfer from the page of a comic book or even from an animated screen version to a live-action version is never easy, and tricky to pull off effectively.

All of this makes me wonder if Marvel Studios and director Kenneth Branagh will sidestep the god issue altogether, positing Thor as a god-like being from another dimension, or “realm,” if you like (see below). A sort of Marvel version of Superman–more of an alien from out in the stars (if not extra-dimensional), powered not by supernatural forces but the most mystical stretches of science fiction. I had this thought as I saw the clear reference to Thor at the end of Iron Man 2, and I felt vindicated in wondering this as I read the description of the film at the Marvel site:

“At the center of the story is The Mighty Thor, a powerful but arrogant warrior whose reckless actions reignite an ancient war. Thor is cast down to Earth and forced to live among humans as punishment. Once here, Thor learns what it takes to be a true hero when the most dangerous villain of his world sends the darkest forces of Asgard to invade Earth.”

No sign of the word god or diety there, anyway. Not proof-positive, but I think it’s intriguing that Thor is referred to as a powerful warrior, that Asgard is a “realm,” a much more general term for a place in space or time. Maybe I’m hanging too much on a few words, eager to justify a hunch. I haven’t been able to find a still-posted link to the short Thor trailer shown at Comic Con in San Diego and leaked on the Internet, so I can’t help but wonder if those several minutes contain anything that would support or shatter my speculations here. Anybody?

And Baba Booey to Y’all: A Fan’s Reminiscence

As millions of Howard Stern fans who listened to the show today know, July 26, 2010 marks the 20th anniversary of Stern producer Gary Dell’Abate’s widely recognized nickname, Baba Booey. This nickname has entered our pop-culture consciousness and gone far beyond the limits of those who actually listen to the show. Granted, this penetration (Beavis and Butthead snickers appropriate here) was and is driven largely by prank callers to any number of TV and radio programs to interrupt the proceedings with shouts of “Baba Booey! Baba Booey!” This date reminds us of a thousand examples of Baba Booey-related pranks, including the one in which a caller convinced Peter Jennings that he could observe O. J. Simpson during the tense conclusion of the well-remembered Bronco chase–when the whole O. J. story was still new and had the media reeling–only to sign off with a “And Baba Booey to y’all!” Peter Jennings didn’t get the reference, but lots of us did, and we’ve been giggling along with the joke for decades now.

This date has a little extra significance for me because I can remember hearing the show on the fateful  morning Gary mistakenly referred to the Hanna Barbera character Baba Looey (sidekick to Quick Draw McGraw) as Baba Booey. It was the summer following my graduation from high school, I was eighteen years old, and I heard the conversation while lying in a dazed, hung-over state on the living room floor of a close friend’s uncle’s house. I had awakened to the softly playing radio, near my head and left tuned to 94 WYSP from the night before. A not-typical night for me at that age–all of the heavy drinking I would do in my twenties was still a couple of years away. On the evening of July 25, 1990, I had gone with my friend to visit his uncle and ended up sitting around listening to music, smoking marijuana (something else I had done so little of in my nerdy teen life), and drinking. There was beer, as I recall, and at one point a bottle of everclear came out of the closet–in a big glass jug, just like moonshine. I must not have had much of that, because I would have been in a lot more pain on that living room floor. Still, my body wasn’t party-hardened yet, and so I laid there and heard Gary put his foot right in his mouth with his famous choppers and launch an icon to juvenile fun.

Naturally I can’t help but gawk at all at the time that’s gone by. I had only recently reached official manhood, then; now I’m approaching middle age. I hadn’t even started my first terrible attempt at novel writing, something I’d embark on maybe a year later. I had completed two or three short stories before making this jump, too young and naive to know I wasn’t nearly up for the task–thankfully. It got the ball rolling, anyway, the slowly rolling ball… From there I would kick around a bit in the post-high school working world before going to college in my early twenties; I would graduate and go on to grad school, get married, bring two wonderful sons into the world with my wife, publish my first novel with a small independent press (Casperian Books), and then have the mind-blowing experience of watching Amy Einhorn Books pick up my novel for re-release in 2011. (Thanks to M. J. Rose, again and again, for fishing me out of obscurity and to my agent Dan Lazar for taking me on as a client and getting me together with Amy.) A lifetime has passed, it seems.

I think I can reach back and feel that kid I was, but it’s hard to know what’s real reminiscence and what’s painted in via imagination in the 20 years gone by. It’s hard to know if we can even go home again in this sense. Maybe I can’t truly understand and recommune with the 18-year-old me any more than that kid could understand his 38-year-old self to be. My circumstances have changed a whole lot but I’m still listening to Howard Stern in the morning–the guy has become a veritable institution, love him or hate him. The days and weeks and months are going to pile up into another 20 years, before we know it, every one of them a bonus in an uncertain life of no guarantees. I hope I’m as happy with where I’m going then as I am now, as I sit here typing and hoping I can be Stern’s first recognized literary super fan in the time to come.

The Riddler According to Robin Williams

As reported at Batman on Film, Robin Williams has declared his desire to appear in the next presumably Chris Nolan directed Batman film in an Empire Magazine piece. Williams mentions the Riddler specifically–saying that he accepted the role before and got passed over in favor of Jim Carrey. (He also accepted the role of the Joker that went to Jack Nicholson, according to this statement.) Williams said that he would play anyone at all for the chance to work with Nolan again, and seems to be especially keen to do this in a Batman film.

For me, this would be a home run, a slam dunk, and any other sporting metaphor/cliché you’d like to add. I remember how excited I was to hear that Robin Williams was being considered to play the Riddler, way back in the mid-1990s. (Last century, folks. Moment of awe done in 5, 4, 3, 2…) I had a similar reaction when I heard that Patrick Stewart was being looked at for Mr. Freeze, another perfect casting that never came to pass. To find out now that Williams was offered the role of the Riddler, accepted, and yet never appeared in the role only goes to show–as if it needed to be proven again–how much the directors and producers of the Batman movies had lost their way by the time Batman Forever came along. Let’s not even go into what was to come in the followup film, the Batman Movie We Do Not Speak of…

Anyway, I’m psyched at the idea Williams playing the Riddler or appearing in the next Batman film at all. I think he plays a great and very creepy villain, probably best displayed in the douche-chill-inducing thriller One Hour Photo. That sounds a bit like a shot at the movie, but if you’ve seen it, you know what I mean; it’s a statement about just how pitiful/creepy Williams was in the film. I expect many will say he’s too old for the role of the Riddler now, but I don’t think you need a young actor for the Riddler. He doesn’t have to go toe-to-toe with Batman with his fists, he just has to have a sick sense of humor, a twisted imagination, and a whole lot of presence–all qualities I think Williams would bring to the role in unforgettable ways. Sure, there are other people who would be great as this character, but as far as I’m concerned, we got screwed out of seeing Robin Williams as the Riddler sixteen years ago (no offense to Jim Carrey, who I thought did a good job in a bad movie) and damn it, it’s time to set this right.

I might be overstating this, just a hair. Please, join me in hyperbole, my friends.

A Post-Michael Scott Version of The Office, A.D. 2011

So by now you’ve probably all read and/or heard about Steve Carell’s announcement that he will complete his contract and leave The Office at the end of next season in May 2011. My first gut reaction–the first common gut reaction, it seems–was that the show can’t go on and they should acknowledge that they’ve had a good run, enjoy the seeming immortality of reruns, and move on. I haven’t abandoned this initial feeling, but two things have occurred to me on this:

One, people are way too quick to declare that a show has jumped the shark, in the now well-worn parlance. Two, the show has undergone changes before (not so big, granted) and come back strong, by my lights. My honored co-blogger Mike Frangione tuned out on the show after Jim Halpert transferred to the Dunder Mifflin branch in Stamford, Connecticut, back in the dim, receding days of  2005. Or maybe I should qualify–Mike, please correct me if I have this wrong–that Mike was rattled by the shifts and character additions this change caused, but that he didn’t truly tune out until Ryan the intern-turned-salesman got his master’s degree and became an executive at the end of Season 3. Mike–corrections? Additions?

My point is that the show has been in flux before, seems continually in flux, and somehow for me continues to work. Again, I’m not retracting my thought that the show shouldn’t outlive the Michael Scott character, but given all the changes that have come before, part of me says, well, maybe it can. The cast is very strong and works so well together. In reference to the office transfer/return I mentioned above, I questioned the idea of bringing Andy and other characters back to Scranton with Jim, thinking that Andy was simply a Stamford Dwight. But I have to say that Andy has been a great addition to the show, and his character is quite a bit different from Dwight. Andy is more human, much more sympathetic, and a lot more pathetic. And he’s funny–one of the funniest characters on a show full of funny characters. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt this way if Andy had outright replaced Dwight…

And okay, so maybe the new manager would have the same value as Coy and Vance Duke (old viewers of Dukes of Hazzard take note), but maybe the style of the show, the strength of the remaining cast, and the quality of the writing would win out.

Okay, So You’ve Met Mike

I’m Paul and I decided to set up this blog as another outlet for the endless discussions of all things pop cultural–something obviously shared with so many out there. We’ll see how it goes. All things are fleeting, but maybe this blog will hang around for a while.

Pop culture is a big tent, and we’re open to more or less anything that comes up–contemporary or historical. Nineteenth-century snake-oil salesman, for example, would be fair game. Also: superheroes (with and without capes), spaceships, noir, novelty accessories, cartoon violence, sitcoms, classic films, giant monster cinema, zombies, music… Well, a pretty extensive list. We’re still working out the editorial logistics here, but in broad terms, I host the site, and will be inviting contributors to come share their arcane observations.

Can I get an “Okay, whatever”?

Cue crickets.