Comic Review: The Dark Knight Returns

If there were a prize for the most overrated comic book, The Dark Knight Returns would claim it with little competition.  Frank Miller’s long and incomprehensible story about Bruce Wayne’s return from retirement is fraught with mutant gangs, nuclear warheads, exploding dolls, topless Nazi-girl thugs, drive-by news reporters, and middle-aged crime fighters who never stop whining about how old they’re getting.  It’s a mess.

The premise of the novel is that the ascension of a new criminal gang called the mutants prompts a middle-aged Bruce Wayne to don the Batsuit again after a ten-year withdrawal from vigilante work.  As if the mutants weren’t a big enough burden, he also has to foil the evil plots of Harvey Dent, who has undergone an external but not internal recovery from the accident that left him disfigured and wrathful.  Batman’s age cripples his ability to fight the terrorists of Gotham, but a teenager girl with her own Robin costume enthusiastically offers to assist him in his war on crime.  While some in Gotham are pleased at the Batman’s return, others resent him as an oppressor of the weak, an illegal vigilante, an agitator of crime, and a “social disease”.  The moral ramifications of using violence to fight violence is a theme that pops up in Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight, but that movie handles the controversy far better than Miller’s comic book, which comes off as redundant, indecisive, and tedious.

The primary error of the Dark Knight quadrilogy is probably that its author tries to juggle too many characters, which prevents him from developing any of them very deeply.  On the villains’ side of things we have Two-Face, the mutants (who speak in an indecipherable dialect), Selina Kyle (who inexplicably decided to trade in burglary for pimping), the Joker, and the Soviets, while on the opposite side we have Batman, Robin, Green Arrow, Lois Lane, and Superman – these are just the main protagonists and antagonists.  Why Miller decided to include Green Arrow and Superman in a Batman novel instead of just writing a Justice League series is beyond my comprehension.  At any rate, Superman’s presence is entirely superfluous except to create an excuse for a final battle between him and Bruce, which also has no purpose and makes no sense given that both men could do better things to serve their country in the wake of a nuclear explosion.  Another major problem rests in that the book is extremely hard to follow; most of it is written in tiny windows that don’t allow a lot of detail and the scene changes every 2-4 frames, hopping from Batman’s escapades to the issue’s main villain to Superman to James Gordon to news reporters and back again.  Many times Batman will appear in some situation, mournfully holding an American flag for instance, and the reader will have no idea how he arrived there. The editing is sloppy in that respect.  In addition, the book has more than its fair share of conceited, incoherent monologues from Gordon and Bruce, which are accompanied by frames that jump between the past and the present.  This merely adds to the confusion.

The political messages of the novel are mixed: on the one hand, it mercilessly ridicules those who defend terrorists because they’re “victims” of discrimination and oppression.  The Joker’s doctor, Bartholomew Wolper, is the story’s prime example of terrorist-sympathizers, who passes his patient off as a misunderstood “victim of Batman’s psychosis”.  In one of the novel’s higher points, his life ends ironically and disturbingly at the hands of the very man he sought to vindicate and release.  On the other hand, Miller takes delight in mocking Ronald Reagan for no apparent reason and extols FDR as the man all presidents should emulate.  Like many liberal works, the novel is filled to the brim with foul language, most of which isn’t warranted.

In summary, I can’t fathom the many accolades that critics and readers have given to The Dark Knight Returns.  The novel is dull, exceedingly long, disjointed, convoluted, and improper.  Then again, perhaps it’s just too sophisticated for me to understand, like Barack Obama’s many profound tirades about capitalism.

Comic Review: Halo Uprising

In layman’s terms, Halo: Uprising  a pile of crap.  Our beloved Spartan hero Master Chief graces the cover of all the issues in the miniseries, but hardly appears in the actual comics.  In fact, four fifths of the pages devote themselves to the misadventures of two young humans, a hotel concierge and music artist, in Covenant-occupied Cleveland and the romance that spontaneously blooms between them in a matter of hours.  The writing is abysmal and the plot without direction, just like the main characters, who run around the city streets aimlessly for 4 issues asking each other tirelessly, “Where are we going?” and reliably responding, “I don’t know.”  The book claims to be the tie-in story for Halo 2 and 3, but fails miserably in that respect.  What it does accomplish is a meaningless and utterly implausible subplot involving a Key of Osanalan (which is an annoying word to read either in your head or out loud).  The alien alliance known as the Covenant learns of this artifact through brutally interrogating a human prisoner, who tells them that the key is located in Cleveland.  Accordingly, the Covenant invade the city, crush the UNSC opposition, herd the civilians together, and promise rewards to the one who will find the key for them.  The hotel worker, Ruwan (which is a male name, I guess), informs the artist, Myras (a popular 26th century name for girls), that the key is an imaginary object made up by him and his brother, the aforementioned prisoner, in their childhood days.  He then takes it upon himself in a random, inconsistent change of character to rectify the mayhem he feels he’s propagated in order to save the world he formerly thought to be devoid of reason and purpose.  Meanwhile, Master Chief mows down waves of grunts and brutes aboard a Forerunner ship in a manner that befits his superhuman physique but seems absurd to anybody who’s played the Halo campaigns on the legendary level.  At the end of the series, the Chief jumps from the ship and plunges toward Earth in a desperate, last-minute attempt by the writer to link the comic to Halo 3.  The Key of Osanalan, however, devolves into a rabbit trail with no connection to the rest of the trilogy and no bearing on the human-Covenant battle for Earth.

There are several glaring problems with the plot.  Why would the Covenant give so much effort to obtain a key of dubious strategic value that’s not even certain to exist?  Why would the brutes pay heed to the rambling thoughts of a man they had tortured halfway to Hell?  How would either of the two brothers recall the name of a fictitious object they had created as preteens in their pretend war games?  As for the romantic element I mentioned previously, it makes the love story of Halo 3: ODST seem moving.  It takes the two protagonists all of 3 hours to start kissing and discussing marriage. Jersey Shore is more realistic: the stars of that show head straight for the bed without even bothering to talk marriage.

The illustrations of the comics are passable but bland when juxtaposed with the distinctive, edgy artwork of The Killing Joke or The Long Halloween.  Vivid colors are absent, character designs are boring, and the urban setting lacks the same aura of majestic vastness that New Mombasa and Alexandria inspired in ODST and Reach.  Even the Bionicle comics, illustrated by a variety of talented artists including Carlos d’Sanda, Randy Elliot, Stuart Sayger, and Pop Mahn, do a far better job of transporting the reader to an incredible fantasy universe.

In conclusion, Halo fans shouldn’t waste their time with this drivel.  Those who wish to connect the dots between the Halo 2 and 3 would be wiser to play through Halo 3: ODST.  Like the original animated Clone Wars series, ODST masterfully depicts the events that lead up to the trilogy’s finale and the discovery of the portal to the Ark.  Its art design, in-media-res storytelling, and character development are all superior to that of Uprising and combine to make it the best Halo game of all.

Now if we only had a Transformers 2.5 to show us how Sam Witwicky broke up with Megan Fox…

Comic Review: The Killing Joke

Before watching Christopher Nolan’s unparalleled masterpiece, The Dark Knight, I had made very few ventures into the world of comic books.  In truth, the only comics I’d ever read were the free Bionicle ones written and illustrated for Lego, and while those were fine in their own way, their primary purpose was more to promote a line of products than to tell a compelling, thought-provoking story.  The aforementioned movie inspired my dad to open his sarcophagus of childhood comic books; from it he drew a graphic novel entitled The Killing Joke that he bestowed on me for my reading pleasure.  Thus my “love” of comic books began.

The Killing Joke, written by Alan Moore and illustrated by Brian Bolland, is a superb work in art, storytelling, and character analysis.  Although it’s technically a Batman graphic novel, the book is really an in-depth origin story about the Joker and the motivation for his crimes.  Moore uses an unconventional narrative structure that jumps between the mayhem and destruction wrought by the Joker in the present day and the acts that lead up to his tragic moral demise and unnerving disfiguration.  As we learn, the Joker was once a married man who tried without success to get a foothold in comedy.  Facing looming debt and the disruption of his family’s home, he turns to some crooks in a Gotham bar for temporary relief.  With the hope of securing a better future for his wife and children, he agrees to execute a petty crime at a chemical factory; no more shall I spoil.  Some years in the future, the Clown Prince of Crime engineers a diabolical plot to expose the true nature of mankind.  The Joker perceives an inherent weakness in man, a tendency to devolve into the most barbaric and irrational state given overwhelming pressure.  “All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy.”  In order to prove his thesis, the Joker captures Commissioner Jim Gordon, Gotham’s paragon of nobility and justice, and subjects him to grueling emotional torture that’s meant to shatter his resolve, nullify his mind, and throw his world into chaos.  Whether the Joker succeeds and whether Batman defeats him I leave for the reader to discover.

This is a brief but fantastic story which develops a sophisticated, believable, and genuinely frightening villain who has a grander agenda than the acquisition of mere money or power.  Moore accomplishes an unusual feat in writing a comic book that demands the reader to ponder a philosophical topic, viz. the “basic goodness” or inherent corruption of man, a theme that reverberates prominently in Christopher Nolan’s masterpiece The Dark Knight.  The author, being a secular liberal, seems to disagree with the Joker’s view of mankind, whereas the writers of the movie present a somewhat more cynical stance: even the greatest man can readily succumb to corruption and his baser impulses.  Nonetheless, The Killing Joke could conceivably function as a launch platform for debate among peers who enjoy philosophy.

Those who read comic books for entertainment alone will admire The Killing Joke for its exceptional art, brisk pacing, and catching writing.  True to his name, The Joker carries quite a few funnies up his sleeve, which sometimes act as comic relief but most often exist purely to reinforce his depiction as a psychotic, cruel sadist with a twisted sense of humor.  Batman is not the real focus of the novel, but fans can rest assured that he gets his fair share of punchy one-liners.

“Why aren’t you laughing?”
“Because I’ve heard it before… and it wasn’t funny the first time.”

Animation Montage

The following video contains a series of stop-motion movies made by me and my brother several years ago.  He plotted and animated all the movies up until the clones feature, while I edited them on the computer, unevenly cropping out bedroom in the background, adding special effects, splicing all the images together, incorporating sound, and creating credits.  John Williams deserves mention for the music.



Admittedly, most of those could use a little work.  This, however, is possibly the most amazing fight ever made with Lego bricks.  Based loosely on the video game, The Force Unleashed by Fancypants:



The Duel, directed by Namchild, is another brilliant action short with Legos.



The following is a behind-the-scenes documentary by Nick Durron of the best zombie movie ever.  The film sold so well that a sequel by the name of Zombie: Exodus was produced; it's also worth your time.



For those who want to see more Lego films, I recommend scouring the archives of Bricks In Motion.  Some of these movies have become immensely popular on Youtube, most notably Lego Black Ops, which deservedly has 16 million views but is a little bloody to post on The Author's Files.

"In Space"... Camp

If there ever was a movie that could force me to overlook the outstanding flaws of Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, that movie is Space Camp.  When I first viewed 2001 about a year ago, I was overwhelmed by the incredible boredom it induced and unimpressed by its seemingly outdated effects.  Upon watching Space Camp, I acquired a new appreciation both for the narrative pace of 2001 and the nature of its special effects.

Space Campy, err Camp, is a sci-fi tale that was made in the 80s but resembles a product of the pre-Star Wars 70s.  It documents the adventures of some inept and immature teenagers who all undergo a positive change of character, become adults, and learn the value of teamwork when they are unexpectedly sent into space by a protocol/astromech droid named Jinx.  The basic 5-act plot of the movie is as follows: kids act like kids at space camp, lovable robot sends kids into space, kids run out of oxygen, kids work together to refill oxygen tanks at space station, kids magically turn into responsible adults and pull off emergency landing.  Should you watch the whole thing, you’ll also experience a forced romantic subplot that never resurfaces after the “lake scene”, a disturbingly bestial relationship between a young boy and his robot, some partial nudity in the women’s dormitory, cheesy old-feminism (“I’m gonna be the first female shuttle commander.”), a prolonged sequence in which not one but two people leave the space shuttle to retrieve oxygen supplies, a total of two “mild peril” scenes in which someone drifts away from the shuttle only to be rescued predictably by another astronaut, another scene of peril where someone gets stuck outside the cargo bay doors (she’s rescued later), a crying scene, and a surplus of drama at Mission Control, all accompanied by overwrought, generically heroic tunes by John Williams of all people.

Clichés and stereotypes abound.  We have the nerdy brainiac girl, the arrogant hothead who conquers his pride and learns responsibility by the end, and the young boy who’s obsessed with dreams of visiting the great beyond and fighting a glorious war against the evil Empire (Star Wars is referenced extensively throughout the movie, probably to alleviate the need for the writers to craft their own story).  At the beginning of the movie, a central teenager named Kathryn is put into a simulation machine which is supposed to teach pilots the science of landing a shuttle.  She fails of course, complaining afterwards that she needs another chance.  As I foretold out loud, she gets one in the film’s final ten minutes, when she has to land the real spacecraft.  In an “inspiring” triumph over her former challenges, she somehow manages to land the ship safely, prompting the resounding cheers of those at NASA, who apparently can’t comprehend their legal predicament or the many millions wasted on the shuttle’s fruitless voyage.  The “messages” of the movie are simplistic and typical of a kiddie flick: believe in yourself, follow your heart, and work together.

All this might be forgiven if the movie at least moved at a brisk pace, but Space Camp makes even 2001 seem gripping.   My father has hypothesized that the pacing of A Space Odyssey is supposed to match the film’s theme: long periods of boredom punctuated by brief moments of intense excitement. 2001 does indeed have flashes of intensity that captivate the audience, e.g. the lethal rebellion of HAL 9000 against his masters and Dave that represents the climax of the film, and thus the movie has some entertainment value.  Space Camp, however, is all boredom, no excitement, despite its strained efforts to inject peril into the narrative.  Never once does one feel concern or anxiety for the lives of the intrepid heroes, because it’s explicit from the movie’s tone and setup that everybody will survive and live happily ever after.

The “special” effects of the movie are scarce and unbelievable.  Unlike 2001, which was almost 20 years old at the time of the former movie’s release, Space Camp fails to create a credible sensation of space travel.  Very rarely does the camera offer a full view of the actors’ bodies, reinforcing the audience’s prevalent suspicion that the characters are just standing on unseen surfaces.  Scenes on the exterior of the shuttle are obviously creations of Hollywood, with a variety of cardboard cutouts substituting in many shots for human actors.  2001, in contrast, employed moving sets, wirework, and clever camera tricks to manufacture an illusion of zero and shifting gravity so authentic it would later inspire the modern cinematic genius Christopher Nolan in his work on Inception.  Space Camp, unlike 2001, was ignored by the filmmaking community and forgotten by the few who saw it.  Additionally the characters of Space Camp possess the unique ability to talk to each other outside of the flying shuttle, which contradicts a wise saying: in space, no one can hear you scream.  Stanley Kubrick averted this problem by ascribing an eerie silence to his space scenes that’s broken only by the hiss of an astronaut’s suit.  2001 strove for realism, while Space Camp elected for fantasy.

The acting in the film is abysmal, which is inexcusable because the dialogue given to the stars is most commendable.  Here are some of the more quotable bits from the movie.

“*Max and Jinx friends, for e ver.*” ~ C3D2

“Why don't you evaporate, laser-brain!” ~ Max

“My philosophy is to sleep late, drive fast, and not take any of this s___ seriously.’” ~ Kevin

“Shut up!   I don't want to hear about it.  I can't hear it - you know why?  Because you're all dead.” ~ Andie

I believe Andie delivers the movie’s best line: “I’m gonna check this mother out.”  I urge my readers to do just the opposite with Space Camp: do not check this mother… out.

Grade: D+ (I reserve my D's for movies that are blasphemous, sadistic, flagrantly indecent, misleading, or anti-American, e.g. Transformers 2, Michael Moore's films,  and all of Pixar's propaganda.)