12/31/2017
2017 Comic Reviews and Commentary
Reviews:
Tetris: The Games People Play
Journey to Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Captain Phasma
5,000 km Per Second
A User’s Guide To Neglectful Parenting
Love and Lies Vol. 1
She and Her Cat
A City Inside
Wonder Woman #31
My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness
Sheena, Queen of the Jungle #0-1
Calexit #1
Solanin
Spy Seal #1
Mister Miracle #1
Unbeatable Squirrel Girl #22
Batman/Elmer Fudd Special
Wonder Woman: Steve Trevor Special
Loverboys
Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid Vol. 1
Wonder Woman Annual #1
Flash #22
Libby's Dad
Flash #21 & Batman #22
Action Comics #977 & Batman #21
Black Cloud #1
Guardians of the Louvre
Superman #19 & Action Comics #976
Man-Thing #1
The Old Guard #1
WildC.A.T.s #1
Spawn #1
Justice League/Power Rangers #1
The Mighty Thor #15
The Unstoppable Wasp #1
Commentary:
More NonSense: Best of 2017, Part 2
More NonSense: Best of 2017
Bright Lights (2016)
More NonSense: Eddie Berganza vs C.B. Cebulski
More NonSense: Cartoon Diversity
More NonSense: SPX 2017 Edition
More NonSense: Jack Kirby Centennial
More NonSense: Comic-Con 2017 Edition
More NonSense: Harry Potter 20th Anniversary Edition
More NonSense: The Wonder Woman Film Edition
More Nonsense: Kung fu Kenny Edition
The Circle (2017)
More NonSense: Ghost in the Shell Edition
Arrival (2016)
More Nonsense: Fighting Facism
Kong: Skull Island (2017)
Logan (2017)
R.I.P. Jiro Taniguchi (August 14, 1947 – February 11, 2017)
More NonSense: You’re gonna make it after all
More NonSense: March
R.I.P. Tyrus Wong (October 25, 1910 – December 30, 2016)
More NonSense: Best of 2017, Part 2
The Verge considers them the 10 best comics of 2017.
Ars Technica rates 10 excellent comics that flew under the radar in 2017.
The Beat thinks these are the Best Comics of 2017.
io9 thinks these are the Best and Worst Moments in the Comics of 2017.
PW releases their 2017 Annual Graphic Novel Critics Poll.
The Nib looks back on 2017.
Ken Partille looks back at Ghost World.
C.B. Cebulski offerred an apology about masquerading as Akira Yoshida that many would characterise as a non-apology. Asher Elbein, Charles Pulliam-Moore, Tom Spurgeon, Brian Hibbs offer analysis.
Mark Hamill responds to the fan backlash empowered by his early comments about The Last Jedi. He's also expressed some disagreement with his last minute appearance in The Force Awakens in previous interviews, before walking back his comments.
It's now one year since Carrie Fisher's passing. Here are a compilation of her best interview quotes.
Apparently, some of the audience were confused by a pivotal scene in the movie were everything goes quiet.
The ecumenism of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Here's another one.
RIP Annie Goetzinger (18 August 1951 – 20 December 2017) celebrated French comics creator.
Ars Technica rates 10 excellent comics that flew under the radar in 2017.
The Beat thinks these are the Best Comics of 2017.
io9 thinks these are the Best and Worst Moments in the Comics of 2017.
PW releases their 2017 Annual Graphic Novel Critics Poll.
The Nib looks back on 2017.
Ken Partille looks back at Ghost World.
C.B. Cebulski offerred an apology about masquerading as Akira Yoshida that many would characterise as a non-apology. Asher Elbein, Charles Pulliam-Moore, Tom Spurgeon, Brian Hibbs offer analysis.
Mark Hamill responds to the fan backlash empowered by his early comments about The Last Jedi. He's also expressed some disagreement with his last minute appearance in The Force Awakens in previous interviews, before walking back his comments.
It's now one year since Carrie Fisher's passing. Here are a compilation of her best interview quotes.
Apparently, some of the audience were confused by a pivotal scene in the movie were everything goes quiet.
The ecumenism of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Here's another one.
RIP Annie Goetzinger (18 August 1951 – 20 December 2017) celebrated French comics creator.
12/29/2017
12/28/2017
12/27/2017
12/23/2017
More NonSense: Best of 2017
Bill Gates considers The Best We Could Do by Thi Bui to be one of the his 5 favourite books of 2017.
The AV Club lists their best comics of 2017.
NPR lists the graphic novels they rank among 2017's great reads.
Paste has posted their the 25 Best Comic Books of 2017 and the 10 Best Kids Comics of 2017.
Tor lists the Top Spec-Fic Comics of 2017.
CBC lists the best Canadian comics and graphica of 2017.
Paste ranks every Disney-era Star Wars comic.
i09 has their 15 Best Comics of 2017.
In a ruling which will impact the convention circuit, a jury ruled in favour for Comic-Con International in their trademark dispute with Salt Lake City Comic Con. The argument was whether the phrase "comic con" was a generic term or fell within the SDCC trademark for "comic-con." SDCC however was only awarded $20,000 in damages, well below the $12 million being sought. Heidi MacDonald and Rob Salkowitz have noted that the jury ruled SLCC's infringement to be unintentional despite emails being presented where the SLCC organisers admitted that they were aware that they were infringing SDCC's trademark.
Michael Cavna posted a cartoon tribute to his late father.
Miles Wray on the fall from grace of Dilbert creator Scott Adams.
Joe George on the humanism of Watchmen.
Hillary Chute on the evolution of LGBTQ identity in comics.
Bret Lang reports on the corporate shake-up following the disappointing box office performance of Justice League. Of particular interest to comics is the vague description of DC's Geoff Johns being demoted to a more advisory role, and the tighter integration of DC into the Warner Brothers studio system.
Johns, who reports to DC president Diane Nelson, works in areas such as television (and has written various episodes for DC-inspired shows), publishing, and consumer products, in addition to his contributions to the films. Going forward, his work on the films may evolve, and could be more advisory in nature.
These people also say that Emmerich is weighing the idea of further integrating DC’s film operations into the studio’s main movie arm. That would entail putting the divisions under the same roof rather than having DC remain in a separate building on the lot, sources say. Marvel, which is owned by Disney, does operate its comic book film division autonomously, but other studios, such as Fox and Sony, produce their superhero films under the studio’s banner.The aforementioned Emmerich is Warner Bros. Picture Group President Toby Emmerich.
Image via Star Wars
Did anyone notice that a new Star Wars movie is out? I hear it's getting rave reviews.
[Spoiler Alert]
To no one's surprise, The Last Jedi is on the receiving end of some fan backlash, just as with The Force Awakens in 2015. And as with any piece of pop culture with a dedicated fanbase, fans have many opportunities to nitpick at any number of things, however minor: from the existence of new lifeforms, director Rian Johnson's sense of humour, the introduction of new Force abilities, the death of some fan favourite characters, to the dismissal of dearly-held fan theories. A certain portion of fandom is being empowered by Mark Hamill's early comments about the writing of the character he plays, Luke Skywalker.
Hamill's comments are indicative of their sentiments. If The Force Awakens was sometimes criticised for retreading familiar ideas, The Last Jedi noticeably questions most of them, especially the legacy of the Jedi order and the Skywalker family line. J.J. Abrams' film presented fans with a new "Chosen One" in the form of Rey, but Johnson's treatment of Rey roundly rejects the very concept. To those fans, changes like these represents some kind of betrayal of the franchise.
That's a tad overblown. Whatever one thinks of the answers given or if expectations were subverted, the film operates well within the confines of the Star Wars playbook while still finding even more ways to fit in more complex character arcs, deeper world-building, and a more inclusive cast. Luke might start out a broken man full of self-loathing, but he regains his mojo to completely outclass his former apprentice Kylo Ren. The Jedi order is dead, but finds new life in a new generation represented by Rey. The Republic the Rebel Alliance fought so hard to establish in the original trilogy is in tatters, but the fight against facism goes on.
The Last Jedi is very a middle chapter kind of story. It's meant to ramp up the tension and create new complications. But with time, the more extreme reactions to it will fade, and the film will earn its place in the franchise.
And the scene of Luke drinking green milk out of the teat of an animal was the best.
[End Spoiler]
Sean T. Collins thinks these are The 50 Greatest Star Wars Moments.
Someone has to bring up the Star Wars Holiday Special, so we won't forget what a story that really steps out of the boundaries of "canon" looks like.
Nick Gillard talks about choreographing the three way lightsaber duel between Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Maul in The Phantom Menace.
Enough with the irrational hatred for midi-chlorians.
Lauren Michele Jackson on how modern animation subverts the minstrel tradition.
Labels:
Alan Moore,
animation,
cartoon,
Comic-Con International,
Commentary,
convention,
Dave Gibbons,
fighting arts,
film,
gender roles,
industry,
Michael Cavna,
SDCC,
Star Wars,
superhero,
Watchmen
12/22/2017
Cartoon: The Splendor of Creation
Go to: The Nib, by Kasia Babis
12/21/2017
12/20/2017
12/17/2017
Tetris: The Games People Play
By Box Brown
Box Brown has made a career uncovering the stories behind pop culture objects of a very specific milieu, namely early 80s Americana. He’s authored biographies about two infamous celebrities: pro wrestler André the Giant, and comedian Andy Kaufman. With last year’s Tetris: The Games People Play, Brown instead tackled a video gaming classic. The resulting graphic novel reveals that his approach to biography works just as well for talking about nonhuman subjects. After all, Tetris didn’t just emerge from the void like one of its signature puzzle pieces. Someone had to invent it, and others had to fall for its charms. Some people might be aware that the game was the brainchild of computer scientist Alexey Pajitnov, when he was still working at the Academy of Science in Moscow. Even fewer will know what measures were taken to export the game to the Western world during the final stages of the Cold War. Brown’s examination of the complex business machinations behind Tetris’ international success is very accessible because he keeps the attention centered on the personalities involved, and not on the technologies that made it possible.
Before getting into the story of Tetris, Brown lays out his thesis for the comic. His short examination of the history (and prehistory) of games leads him to conclude that they are an artistic enterprise, the creative fusion of the competitive spirit and the child’s act of playing. Games nurture analytical skills and model human behavior by connecting with the audience’s desire for diversion, whether it be the ancient board game of Senet, the 19th century Japanese card game Hanafuda, or the video game consoles manufactured by Nintendo and Atari during the early 1980s. Every games’ popularity is a reflection of their respective society. With Tetris, Alexey’s own contribution to history was to combine the pleasures of classic puzzle games with real-time problem solving made possible by video games into an endlessly iterating loop.
Alexey himself isn’t one of Brown’s more enigmatic protagonists. He’s portrayed as a Steve Wozniak type of figure who created Tetris in 1984, during his free time in order to give expression to his ideas and entertain his friends. He showed no interest in profiting from his creation. The game would soon become a viral hit in Moscow, shared through floppy discs. A version of Tetris would make its way to Hungary, where it would be discovered by Robert Stein of U.K.-based Andromeda Software.
From here, the story becomes a lot more complicated as Alexey gradually loses control of his own creation. Various American and Japanese companies would vie for the distribution rights to Tetris, and at some point had to negotiate directly with the Russian government agency named Elorg. Like many tales from the nascent personal computing and video gaming industry, many of the parties involved were stumbling over a mess of patent, copyright, and trademark issues. Tetris would be ported to virtually every popular computing platform even when the legality of its distribution was still far from settled. This confusing state of affairs would eventually culminate in a huge 1993 legal battle between Nintendo and Atari.
If Brown were appealing just to the gaming crowd, he’d get lost comparing the varieties of Tetris being produced during this time, and judging each on their technical merits. That would make for an unwieldy comic. Thankfully, he’s more interested in the various business personalities fighting for a piece of the game. His chapter breaks are structured around their involvement, each character being helpfully introduced with a formal portrait and accompanying caption, isolated on the page by inky black. His blocky cartoon style is even more minimalist than in Andre the Giant, all the better to facilitate his understated, third person narrative voice. The only thing keeping the art from becoming completely flat is Brown’s choice of vibrant yellow to add volume to his black and white forms. But Brown is first and foremost, a storyteller. The comic still proves to a page turner despite the large cast of characters and numerous plot twists.
With everything said, Brown’s sympathies lie ultimately with the humble Alexey. He sees him as a master of his craft. Alexey wanted more than anything for the world to know his beloved game. As he explained during a 2015 appearance: “If I made a big fuss about the money, they would immediately have crushed my efforts. They would have crushed Tetris. Tetris would have been left without a champion to stick up for it and guide it. We would not be here today.”
Box Brown has made a career uncovering the stories behind pop culture objects of a very specific milieu, namely early 80s Americana. He’s authored biographies about two infamous celebrities: pro wrestler André the Giant, and comedian Andy Kaufman. With last year’s Tetris: The Games People Play, Brown instead tackled a video gaming classic. The resulting graphic novel reveals that his approach to biography works just as well for talking about nonhuman subjects. After all, Tetris didn’t just emerge from the void like one of its signature puzzle pieces. Someone had to invent it, and others had to fall for its charms. Some people might be aware that the game was the brainchild of computer scientist Alexey Pajitnov, when he was still working at the Academy of Science in Moscow. Even fewer will know what measures were taken to export the game to the Western world during the final stages of the Cold War. Brown’s examination of the complex business machinations behind Tetris’ international success is very accessible because he keeps the attention centered on the personalities involved, and not on the technologies that made it possible.
Before getting into the story of Tetris, Brown lays out his thesis for the comic. His short examination of the history (and prehistory) of games leads him to conclude that they are an artistic enterprise, the creative fusion of the competitive spirit and the child’s act of playing. Games nurture analytical skills and model human behavior by connecting with the audience’s desire for diversion, whether it be the ancient board game of Senet, the 19th century Japanese card game Hanafuda, or the video game consoles manufactured by Nintendo and Atari during the early 1980s. Every games’ popularity is a reflection of their respective society. With Tetris, Alexey’s own contribution to history was to combine the pleasures of classic puzzle games with real-time problem solving made possible by video games into an endlessly iterating loop.
Alexey himself isn’t one of Brown’s more enigmatic protagonists. He’s portrayed as a Steve Wozniak type of figure who created Tetris in 1984, during his free time in order to give expression to his ideas and entertain his friends. He showed no interest in profiting from his creation. The game would soon become a viral hit in Moscow, shared through floppy discs. A version of Tetris would make its way to Hungary, where it would be discovered by Robert Stein of U.K.-based Andromeda Software.
From here, the story becomes a lot more complicated as Alexey gradually loses control of his own creation. Various American and Japanese companies would vie for the distribution rights to Tetris, and at some point had to negotiate directly with the Russian government agency named Elorg. Like many tales from the nascent personal computing and video gaming industry, many of the parties involved were stumbling over a mess of patent, copyright, and trademark issues. Tetris would be ported to virtually every popular computing platform even when the legality of its distribution was still far from settled. This confusing state of affairs would eventually culminate in a huge 1993 legal battle between Nintendo and Atari.
If Brown were appealing just to the gaming crowd, he’d get lost comparing the varieties of Tetris being produced during this time, and judging each on their technical merits. That would make for an unwieldy comic. Thankfully, he’s more interested in the various business personalities fighting for a piece of the game. His chapter breaks are structured around their involvement, each character being helpfully introduced with a formal portrait and accompanying caption, isolated on the page by inky black. His blocky cartoon style is even more minimalist than in Andre the Giant, all the better to facilitate his understated, third person narrative voice. The only thing keeping the art from becoming completely flat is Brown’s choice of vibrant yellow to add volume to his black and white forms. But Brown is first and foremost, a storyteller. The comic still proves to a page turner despite the large cast of characters and numerous plot twists.
With everything said, Brown’s sympathies lie ultimately with the humble Alexey. He sees him as a master of his craft. Alexey wanted more than anything for the world to know his beloved game. As he explained during a 2015 appearance: “If I made a big fuss about the money, they would immediately have crushed my efforts. They would have crushed Tetris. Tetris would have been left without a champion to stick up for it and guide it. We would not be here today.”
12/15/2017
12/14/2017
Cartoon: What White Americans Misunderstand About Mixed-Race Latinx Identity
Go to: The Nib, by Joamette Gil and Corey Ranson
12/13/2017
12/11/2017
Bright Lights (2016)
Bright Lights: Starring Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds
Directors: Alexis Bloom, Fisher Stevens
Starring: Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, Todd Fisher
Even in a media landscape where reality TV stars are willing to have their private lives exposed for any measure of fleeting fame, the relationship between Debbie Reynolds and her daughter Carrie Fisher is truly the stuff of legends. Together they represent two very different eras of Hollywood. Fisher has memorialized their often difficult relationship in her writings. One of them was the semi-autobiographical novel Postcards from the Edge, which was made into a film rather fittingly starring Shirley MacLaine and Meryl Streep. And yet they were practically inseparable, living as next door neighbors in their Beverly Hills compound for decades. When the two died within a day of each other almost a year ago, the legend seemed to be complete. Fisher would pass away on December 27 after suffering a massive heart attack. Reynolds followed her soon after, almost as if she couldn't bear to be without Fisher. According to Carrie’s brother Todd Fisher, Reynolds said before dying that she "wanted to be with Carrie."
Bright Lights was filmed from 2014-15, well before their passing. But it feels like a fitting capstone to their careers. It breezily mixes present day and archival footage in a nonlinear order, producing a lively and affectionate portrait of the two. Their conversations are often filled with inside references and zingers which hint at a much more adversarial past, but which has since mellowed out with time. The pair is a study in contrasts. Reynolds is dignified and polite in front of the camera. And she always dresses immaculately. Fisher expresses herself through a combination of acerbic wit and humorous self-depreciation. Reynold’s house is tastefully decorated. Fisher’s house is cluttered with more recent pop culture memorabilia. Even their pet dogs reflect their different personalities. But they’re united in their mutual love for musical numbers and classic Hollywood cinema. And of course their status as showbiz goddesses. Or as Fisher states in response to a reporter’s question at a red carpet event., “We are always on a red carpet.”
The claim isn’t too hyperbolic. The documentary shows both Fisher and Reynolds being kept busy interacting with their adoring fans. Fisher is an active participant of fan conventions. She refers to these appearances as a “celebrity lap dance” while prepping in the autograph area during one such event, After a full day of signing autographs and posing for photo ops, Fisher can still express a mixture of awe, befuddlement, and acceptance. “They love her”, referring to her Princess Leia role, “and I’m her custodian, and I’m as close as you’re going to get.” Despite having retired from film, Reynolds still tours the country performing in lounge acts to a mostly aging audience. This is a source of tension between mother and daughter, since these performances leave Reynolds with barely enough energy to function. The first scene of the film catches Fisher after she’s failed to talk Reynolds out of one of these gigs. Fisher compares her mother to a force of nature, a “tsu-mommy.” Then she goes to help her pack. Despite the toll touring takes on her body (she almost collapses as she hobbles of the stage), it’s easy to see what Reynolds gets out of it. The reception she receives is ecstatic. Fisher recognizes the sustenance it gives to Reynolds. "Performing gives her life. It feeds her in a way family cannot."
Reynold’s work ethic is no surprise. She was a product of the Hollywood studio system of the late 1940s. It was a system that always demanded a cheerful professionalism out of its charges, like a manic version of kayfabe. It was also still the golden age of the movie musical. But more importantly, Reynolds went through three failed marriages, the first one ending in a huge scandal at the time when husband and celebrated crooner Eddie Fisher left her for actress Elizabeth Taylor. Through it all, Reynolds kept up a semblance of dignity and wholesome sweetness. Bright Lights suggests this wasn’t an act resulting from shallowness or ignorance. It was a display of inner strength. A way of showing the world that she wouldn’t be brought down by such difficult circumstances.
Needless to say, this is unlike the more outspoken Carrie Fisher. Old homemade movies give the impression that Todd and Carrie had an idyllic childhood. Yet Todd admits to a surreal family life being raised by such a famous mom. The siblings began smoking weed as teenagers, though Carrie would go on to stronger stuff and develop a serious drug habit. They came of age in the freewheeling 70s, when Hollywood was being colonized by a new generation of auteurs. One of those auteurs, a young George Lucas, would soon give Fisher her big break. There’s one remarkable clip from 1971 which foreshadows a more unstable future. Reynolds is in the middle of one of her shows when she coaxes, perhaps bullies, Fisher to perform onstage. It’s a very typical parent-child dynamic where the former is setting up the latter to either succeed or fail. The clearly embarrassed teenager grins through it all and belts out a soulful rendition of “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” her outward cheerfulness bleeding over into defiance. “I love that voice” remembers a tearful Reynolds. “Isn’t that a great voice? Wish I had it.” But Fisher would disappoint her mother by not pursuing a singing career. In a few years, she would land the role of Leia for Star Wars, then go on to have a tumultuous marriage with Paul Simon.
When the film catches up with the present, Fisher’s inner demons haven’t vanished. She can’t quite quit her personal vices even as she prepares to film The Force Awakens. But the angry recriminations that characterized the mother-daughter dynamic from a few decades ago have already been replaced by a more genteel schtick. A comedic performance where the characteris have come to recognize each other’s limitations. Fisher keeps insisting that Reynolds retire her lounge act, while Reynolds worries about her daughter’s bipolar disorder. They find in familial bonds a happiness they couldn’t obtain with their romantic male partners. The final part of Bright Lights has the entire clan coming together to ensure that the increasingly frail Reynolds will be on hand to accept a lifetime achievement award. It’s an emotionally tense occasion that causes Fisher to despair a few times. But when it’s all over, the two collapse on the couch when they're back safe at the compound, and amuse everyone with an impromptu version of "There's No Business Like Show Business" as if they were casually conversing about their own lives.
It’s a brilliant scene, and it makes for a sadder realization that these two remarkable women aren’t around anymore.
Directors: Alexis Bloom, Fisher Stevens
Starring: Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, Todd Fisher
Even in a media landscape where reality TV stars are willing to have their private lives exposed for any measure of fleeting fame, the relationship between Debbie Reynolds and her daughter Carrie Fisher is truly the stuff of legends. Together they represent two very different eras of Hollywood. Fisher has memorialized their often difficult relationship in her writings. One of them was the semi-autobiographical novel Postcards from the Edge, which was made into a film rather fittingly starring Shirley MacLaine and Meryl Streep. And yet they were practically inseparable, living as next door neighbors in their Beverly Hills compound for decades. When the two died within a day of each other almost a year ago, the legend seemed to be complete. Fisher would pass away on December 27 after suffering a massive heart attack. Reynolds followed her soon after, almost as if she couldn't bear to be without Fisher. According to Carrie’s brother Todd Fisher, Reynolds said before dying that she "wanted to be with Carrie."
Bright Lights was filmed from 2014-15, well before their passing. But it feels like a fitting capstone to their careers. It breezily mixes present day and archival footage in a nonlinear order, producing a lively and affectionate portrait of the two. Their conversations are often filled with inside references and zingers which hint at a much more adversarial past, but which has since mellowed out with time. The pair is a study in contrasts. Reynolds is dignified and polite in front of the camera. And she always dresses immaculately. Fisher expresses herself through a combination of acerbic wit and humorous self-depreciation. Reynold’s house is tastefully decorated. Fisher’s house is cluttered with more recent pop culture memorabilia. Even their pet dogs reflect their different personalities. But they’re united in their mutual love for musical numbers and classic Hollywood cinema. And of course their status as showbiz goddesses. Or as Fisher states in response to a reporter’s question at a red carpet event., “We are always on a red carpet.”
The claim isn’t too hyperbolic. The documentary shows both Fisher and Reynolds being kept busy interacting with their adoring fans. Fisher is an active participant of fan conventions. She refers to these appearances as a “celebrity lap dance” while prepping in the autograph area during one such event, After a full day of signing autographs and posing for photo ops, Fisher can still express a mixture of awe, befuddlement, and acceptance. “They love her”, referring to her Princess Leia role, “and I’m her custodian, and I’m as close as you’re going to get.” Despite having retired from film, Reynolds still tours the country performing in lounge acts to a mostly aging audience. This is a source of tension between mother and daughter, since these performances leave Reynolds with barely enough energy to function. The first scene of the film catches Fisher after she’s failed to talk Reynolds out of one of these gigs. Fisher compares her mother to a force of nature, a “tsu-mommy.” Then she goes to help her pack. Despite the toll touring takes on her body (she almost collapses as she hobbles of the stage), it’s easy to see what Reynolds gets out of it. The reception she receives is ecstatic. Fisher recognizes the sustenance it gives to Reynolds. "Performing gives her life. It feeds her in a way family cannot."
Reynold’s work ethic is no surprise. She was a product of the Hollywood studio system of the late 1940s. It was a system that always demanded a cheerful professionalism out of its charges, like a manic version of kayfabe. It was also still the golden age of the movie musical. But more importantly, Reynolds went through three failed marriages, the first one ending in a huge scandal at the time when husband and celebrated crooner Eddie Fisher left her for actress Elizabeth Taylor. Through it all, Reynolds kept up a semblance of dignity and wholesome sweetness. Bright Lights suggests this wasn’t an act resulting from shallowness or ignorance. It was a display of inner strength. A way of showing the world that she wouldn’t be brought down by such difficult circumstances.
Needless to say, this is unlike the more outspoken Carrie Fisher. Old homemade movies give the impression that Todd and Carrie had an idyllic childhood. Yet Todd admits to a surreal family life being raised by such a famous mom. The siblings began smoking weed as teenagers, though Carrie would go on to stronger stuff and develop a serious drug habit. They came of age in the freewheeling 70s, when Hollywood was being colonized by a new generation of auteurs. One of those auteurs, a young George Lucas, would soon give Fisher her big break. There’s one remarkable clip from 1971 which foreshadows a more unstable future. Reynolds is in the middle of one of her shows when she coaxes, perhaps bullies, Fisher to perform onstage. It’s a very typical parent-child dynamic where the former is setting up the latter to either succeed or fail. The clearly embarrassed teenager grins through it all and belts out a soulful rendition of “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” her outward cheerfulness bleeding over into defiance. “I love that voice” remembers a tearful Reynolds. “Isn’t that a great voice? Wish I had it.” But Fisher would disappoint her mother by not pursuing a singing career. In a few years, she would land the role of Leia for Star Wars, then go on to have a tumultuous marriage with Paul Simon.
When the film catches up with the present, Fisher’s inner demons haven’t vanished. She can’t quite quit her personal vices even as she prepares to film The Force Awakens. But the angry recriminations that characterized the mother-daughter dynamic from a few decades ago have already been replaced by a more genteel schtick. A comedic performance where the characteris have come to recognize each other’s limitations. Fisher keeps insisting that Reynolds retire her lounge act, while Reynolds worries about her daughter’s bipolar disorder. They find in familial bonds a happiness they couldn’t obtain with their romantic male partners. The final part of Bright Lights has the entire clan coming together to ensure that the increasingly frail Reynolds will be on hand to accept a lifetime achievement award. It’s an emotionally tense occasion that causes Fisher to despair a few times. But when it’s all over, the two collapse on the couch when they're back safe at the compound, and amuse everyone with an impromptu version of "There's No Business Like Show Business" as if they were casually conversing about their own lives.
It’s a brilliant scene, and it makes for a sadder realization that these two remarkable women aren’t around anymore.
12/08/2017
Cartoon: There’s a Consensus on Climate Change. Time To Take It Seriously
Go to: The Nib, by Caitlin Cass
12/07/2017
Cartoon: How Do You Get an Abortion in a Country Where It’s Illegal?
Go to: The Nib, by Natichuleta and Sarah Mirk
12/06/2017
Cartoon: What Else is Disappearing With Southeast Asia’s Mangrove Forests?
Go to: The Nib, by Kazimir Lee
12/04/2017
Star Wars: Captain Phasma
Journey to Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Captain Phasma
Story: Kelly Thompson
Art: Marco Checchetto
Colors: Andres Mossa
Letters: Clayton Cowles
Covers: Paul Renaud
Star Wars created by George Lucas.
Captain Phasma created by J. J. Abrams.
Captain Phasma was the new character from The Force Awakens who failed to impress the fans. This lukewarm reception was a byproduct of the disconnect between the hype surrounding her during the lead up to the film, and the limited screen time which ended with her being KO’d by Chewbacca, then tossed into a trash compactor by Han Solo after being easily forced to disable the Starkiller Base shields. What a pushover! Where was the badass we were promised? And what’s the point of casting Gwendoline Christie to play the role when Phasma is just as useless (and anonymous) as every other stormtrooper? With the next Star Wars film on the horizon, the character’s rehabilitation is in full swing. This year’s Journey to Star Wars comic focuses entirely on Phasma’s actions starting from the climax of The Force Awakens. Since it’s known that she will be back for The Last Jedi, how did she get of Starkiller Base? The answer given certainly paints her as a larger than life, if somewhat ludicrous figure.
The Shatterred Empire art duo of Marco Checchetto and Andres Mossa make their return, this time teaming up with writer Kelly Thompson. The concentration on a smaller cast and shorter time frame results in a much tighter story. But as in the older comic, it still begins with the final battle of the last film. Checchetto and Mossa display their usual prowess in portraying chaotic space combat with the Assault on Starkiller Base. Phasma escapes the compactor thanks to the Resistance attack inadvertently blowing a hole in its side. With only six minutes to go before the planet destructs and her troops in total disarray, Phasma’s first act is to cover her own ass by wiping the computer logs of any record of her disabling the shields. Computer logs that I presume won’t even be around for much longer.
Still, they provide her a motivation for the rest of the comic. Phasma discovers that a certain lieutenant Sol Rivas had accessed the shield systems a few minutes later. Because she can’t have Rivas tattling to anyone about who switched off the base defences, Phasma runs around looking for Rivas so she can exterminate him. It’s quite a sight as she dodges falling debris and multiple explosions. She even ziplines through a chasm like Captain America from his first film. At one point, Phasma even spots from a distance the lightsaber duel between Kylo Ren and Rey. Pffft! Who cares when there’s someone else who needs to be killed? Remember, all this wackiness takes place within those measly six minutes.
Like any First Order officer possessing a healthy survival instinct, Rivas has already escaped to outer space. So the remainder of the story is about Phasma tracking him down with the aid of a TIE Fighter pilot and a BB-9E droid. It’s not a spoiler to say that these throwaway characters won’t survive her wrath. And since she’s still in the First Order’s good graces by the time of The Last Jedi, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that neither does Rivas. But the trail of destruction she leaves in her wake is absurd and horrendous. A planet’s population is sacrificed to her scorched earth policy, including a bunch of merfolk and a few sea monsters. On the one hand, her single-mindedness is practically superhuman. But it’s also a testament to the First Order’s brainwashing (or Lucasfilm’s attachment to her) that Phasma doesn’t just follow the simpler path and become a deserter. It worked out for fellow soldier Finn.
Story: Kelly Thompson
Art: Marco Checchetto
Colors: Andres Mossa
Letters: Clayton Cowles
Covers: Paul Renaud
Star Wars created by George Lucas.
Captain Phasma created by J. J. Abrams.
Captain Phasma was the new character from The Force Awakens who failed to impress the fans. This lukewarm reception was a byproduct of the disconnect between the hype surrounding her during the lead up to the film, and the limited screen time which ended with her being KO’d by Chewbacca, then tossed into a trash compactor by Han Solo after being easily forced to disable the Starkiller Base shields. What a pushover! Where was the badass we were promised? And what’s the point of casting Gwendoline Christie to play the role when Phasma is just as useless (and anonymous) as every other stormtrooper? With the next Star Wars film on the horizon, the character’s rehabilitation is in full swing. This year’s Journey to Star Wars comic focuses entirely on Phasma’s actions starting from the climax of The Force Awakens. Since it’s known that she will be back for The Last Jedi, how did she get of Starkiller Base? The answer given certainly paints her as a larger than life, if somewhat ludicrous figure.
The Shatterred Empire art duo of Marco Checchetto and Andres Mossa make their return, this time teaming up with writer Kelly Thompson. The concentration on a smaller cast and shorter time frame results in a much tighter story. But as in the older comic, it still begins with the final battle of the last film. Checchetto and Mossa display their usual prowess in portraying chaotic space combat with the Assault on Starkiller Base. Phasma escapes the compactor thanks to the Resistance attack inadvertently blowing a hole in its side. With only six minutes to go before the planet destructs and her troops in total disarray, Phasma’s first act is to cover her own ass by wiping the computer logs of any record of her disabling the shields. Computer logs that I presume won’t even be around for much longer.
Still, they provide her a motivation for the rest of the comic. Phasma discovers that a certain lieutenant Sol Rivas had accessed the shield systems a few minutes later. Because she can’t have Rivas tattling to anyone about who switched off the base defences, Phasma runs around looking for Rivas so she can exterminate him. It’s quite a sight as she dodges falling debris and multiple explosions. She even ziplines through a chasm like Captain America from his first film. At one point, Phasma even spots from a distance the lightsaber duel between Kylo Ren and Rey. Pffft! Who cares when there’s someone else who needs to be killed? Remember, all this wackiness takes place within those measly six minutes.
Like any First Order officer possessing a healthy survival instinct, Rivas has already escaped to outer space. So the remainder of the story is about Phasma tracking him down with the aid of a TIE Fighter pilot and a BB-9E droid. It’s not a spoiler to say that these throwaway characters won’t survive her wrath. And since she’s still in the First Order’s good graces by the time of The Last Jedi, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that neither does Rivas. But the trail of destruction she leaves in her wake is absurd and horrendous. A planet’s population is sacrificed to her scorched earth policy, including a bunch of merfolk and a few sea monsters. On the one hand, her single-mindedness is practically superhuman. But it’s also a testament to the First Order’s brainwashing (or Lucasfilm’s attachment to her) that Phasma doesn’t just follow the simpler path and become a deserter. It worked out for fellow soldier Finn.
12/03/2017
Cartoon: Whose Free Speech?
Go to: The Nib, by Ben Passmore
11/30/2017
More NonSense: Eddie Berganza vs C.B. Cebulski
Eddie Berganza
Thor: Ragnarok, which was inspired by Marvel's comics adaptations of the Norse apocalypse, and fan favourite story Planet Hulk, is the 16th film from the ongoing Marvel cinematic universe. It's as solid an entry as any of them, with a healthy dose of swashbuckling space adventure more typically associated with Guardians of the Galaxy. But as a continuation of several plot threads going all the way back to 2011, it works very much like the middle chapter to a bigger story. This hasn't hurt its box office performance or dampened enthusiasm for the MCU. If anything, people want to know how it will pan out in the end.
What does set it apart is how it ties together Thor's sordid family history into a pointed commentary on the revisionist nature of imperialism.
Abraham Riesman lists five Thor comics to read before seeing the latest film. He also recommends eight comics for November.
Justice League is the other superhero tent film of November, and has opposite concerns. The news isn't good for those hoping it would build upon the positive reception of Wonder Woman. Much like Zach Snyder's past directorial contributions to DC's cinematic universe, Justice League is overstuffed with references that are mostly unearned. It's a half-formed world trying hard to fool the audience into believing that it's a fully developed universe. Background information is haphazardly doled out about the new characters to make them more sympathetic. But the only reason why Flash and Aquaman are at all likeable is because of the performances of Ezra Miller and Jason Momoa. Overall, Justice League is notable for the ways it sets the stage for the future cinematic universe than for its own modest merits.
The modern superhero film is today's equivalent to the classic movie musical.
Publisher's Weekly lists its best comics for 2017.
Tony Isabella interviewed about his return to the character her created in 1977, Black Lightning.
These Calvin and Hobbes strips are a nice reminder of how we love to exclude outsiders. Seems particularly relevant today.
A page of Maus is lauded for its' aesthetic qualities.
Eddie Berganza was accused of sexual misconduct in a recent Buzzfeed article. Comics professionals reacted. Then DC first suspended Berganza, only to fire him a few days later. Even more women have since come forward. Rumours about Berganza's terrible conduct are nothing new, and DC was criticized in the past for its tepid response. The difference now is that these allegations are finding new life as part of a wave of similar allegations against other powerful male figures within the larger entertainment industry, and society in general.
What's particularly upsetting is how Berganza was tolerated despite having long developed a reputation within the comics community for being a jerk:
But Berganza’s editorial skills aren’t all he’s known for in the comics industry. At best, he developed a reputation for making offensive jokes or line-crossing comments in the presence of or at the expense of women; one former staffer recalls hearing Berganza tell a female assistant that a writer needed to make a character in a book they were editing "less dykey." Asselin recalled Berganza once telling her that the reason he didn't hit on her was because he had too much respect for her spouse. But at worst, he’s alleged to have forcibly kissed and attempted to grope female coworkers. One woman said when she started at DC, she was warned about Berganza — advised to keep an eye on him, she said, and to not get drinks with him. "People were constantly warning other people away from him," said Asselin, a vocal critic of gender dynamics in the comics industry.
Berganza's reputation spread throughout the comics industry, so much so that Sophie Campbell, an established writer and artist, turned down an opportunity to work on a Supergirl comic two years ago because Berganza was the editor overseeing the project, even though she wouldn't have had to speak directly to him during the job. It would've been a cool gig, Campbell told BuzzFeed News, but it also "felt scuzzy and scary."
"I didn't like the idea of being in professional proximity with him or having his name on something I worked on," she said.
A former DC employee said Berganza’s reputation was "something that I didn't like, but I stomached it. Everybody did. It was a gross open secret."
C.B. Cebulski
Meanwhile, editor C.B. Cebulski replaced Alex Alonso as Marvel's Editor in Chief, in a year the publisher experienced weak print sales while making controversial statements. He then admitted on Bleeding Cool that he once masqueraded as a Japanese writer by naming himself Akira Yoshida. He found himself penning comics such as Thor: Son of Asgard, Elektra: The Hand, Wolverine: Soultaker, and Kitty Pryde: Shadow & Flame. This was done to get around Marvel's policy of not allowing staffers to write or draw any of the publisher's comic books.
I stopped writing under the pseudonym Akira Yoshida after about a year. It wasn’t transparent, but it taught me a lot about writing, communication and pressure. I was young and naïve and had a lot to learn back then. But this is all old news that has been dealt with, and now as Marvel’s new Editor-in-Chief, I’m turning a new page and am excited to start sharing all my Marvel experiences with up and coming talent around the globe.Rewarding an employee who once lied to the world about being an Asian man. Way to go, Marvel. That the two biggest publishers in American comics can put up with the actions of a known sexual harasser, and a self-admitted fraud who brushes off his past indiscretions as acceptable for a person of his lofty position, indicates something rotten within this industry.
Sana Amanat has responded to Cebulski's confession by actually defending him. The revelations have also inspired a hashtag bringing more attention to Asian comic creators. Cebulski is part of a long line of writers creating orientalist portrayals at Marvel, and within the comics industry. Though I can't think of any industry insider who went so far as to extend the practice to fudging their race and nationality for pure economic advantage.
Jim Shooter, Marvel's legendary former Editor in Chief, interviewed by Chris Hassan.
Nobuhiro Watsuki, best known as the creator of the manga Rurouni Kenshin, has been arrested for possession of child pornography.
Labels:
alternative,
Art Spiegelman,
Bill Watterson,
black and white,
Calvin and Hobbes,
cartoon,
Commentary,
film,
gender roles,
Hulk,
industry,
JLA,
Justice League,
manga,
porn,
race,
superhero,
Thor
11/29/2017
11/27/2017
11/24/2017
11/23/2017
11/22/2017
11/18/2017
5,000 km Per Second
By Manuele Fior
Translation: Jamie Richards
Book Design: Michael Heck
5,000 km Per Second is a love story spanning the lives of two Italians named Lucia and Piero. The comic begins with their first teenage flirtation after Piero notices Lucy settling into an adjacent apartment and is immediately smitten by her appearance. Egged on by his best friend Nicola, the chapter ends with Piero making an awkward effort to catch Lucy’s attention. The narrative feels set to explore the unfolding tale of their first love. Instead, the start of the next chapter is set several years later and in a different country. Lucy and Piero have since broken up and are pursuing their separate careers. The succeeding chapters flit back and forth between their respective lives. And it ends with a bittersweet attempt to reconnect from the now two middle aged former lovers, significantly worn down by the intervening years. This is a story of how romantic relationships fail without showing the relationship itself, and without the plot contrivances usually employed in more glamourous Hollywood productions.
What compounds the deceptiveness is the ink and brushwork of Manuele Fior. The lush tones and bright palette are initially inviting and even indicative of a certain youthful naivete. And every change in location carries with it a sense of hopefulness. Fior’s expressionist figures are reminiscent of Paul Cezanne or a young Pablo Picasso. Their sensuous quality combined with the delicacy of Fior’s watercolors imbues every place with an exoticism that evokes the excitement of traveling to foreign places for the first time. Whether it’s Lucy studying the works of Henrik Ibsen while overlooking a lovely fjord in rural Norway, or Piero participating in an archeological dig in Aswan.
But the mood changes at the midpoint as Lucy and Piero slowly become disconnected from their environments. The initial excitement fades, only to be replaced by a sense of alienation. What once looked beautiful becomes oppressive. Time marches relentlessly forward, as expressed through the comic’s meticulous use of three-tiered rows of panels. The colors start to fade as if in response to their internal change. Lucy and Piero's attempts at cosmopolitanism only go so far. The local inhabitants remain mostly strangers or adversaries. The new country doesn’t become a second home. And returning to the old country doesn't provide any greater sense of belonging. When the much anticipated reunion finally takes place, Lucy and Piero’s accumulated life experiences and differing perspectives have created a vast gulf separating them. And yet, every relationship and heartbreak they’ve experienced separately is haunted by the shared memory of their first love. The memory which emerges from their meeting succeeds in interrupting the comic’s forward progress and allows for a flashback to circle the narrative back to the brightness of the first chapter.
But it’s only a momentary relief before life, in all its glorious indifference, forces them both to keep muddling forward.
Translation: Jamie Richards
Book Design: Michael Heck
5,000 km Per Second is a love story spanning the lives of two Italians named Lucia and Piero. The comic begins with their first teenage flirtation after Piero notices Lucy settling into an adjacent apartment and is immediately smitten by her appearance. Egged on by his best friend Nicola, the chapter ends with Piero making an awkward effort to catch Lucy’s attention. The narrative feels set to explore the unfolding tale of their first love. Instead, the start of the next chapter is set several years later and in a different country. Lucy and Piero have since broken up and are pursuing their separate careers. The succeeding chapters flit back and forth between their respective lives. And it ends with a bittersweet attempt to reconnect from the now two middle aged former lovers, significantly worn down by the intervening years. This is a story of how romantic relationships fail without showing the relationship itself, and without the plot contrivances usually employed in more glamourous Hollywood productions.
What compounds the deceptiveness is the ink and brushwork of Manuele Fior. The lush tones and bright palette are initially inviting and even indicative of a certain youthful naivete. And every change in location carries with it a sense of hopefulness. Fior’s expressionist figures are reminiscent of Paul Cezanne or a young Pablo Picasso. Their sensuous quality combined with the delicacy of Fior’s watercolors imbues every place with an exoticism that evokes the excitement of traveling to foreign places for the first time. Whether it’s Lucy studying the works of Henrik Ibsen while overlooking a lovely fjord in rural Norway, or Piero participating in an archeological dig in Aswan.
But the mood changes at the midpoint as Lucy and Piero slowly become disconnected from their environments. The initial excitement fades, only to be replaced by a sense of alienation. What once looked beautiful becomes oppressive. Time marches relentlessly forward, as expressed through the comic’s meticulous use of three-tiered rows of panels. The colors start to fade as if in response to their internal change. Lucy and Piero's attempts at cosmopolitanism only go so far. The local inhabitants remain mostly strangers or adversaries. The new country doesn’t become a second home. And returning to the old country doesn't provide any greater sense of belonging. When the much anticipated reunion finally takes place, Lucy and Piero’s accumulated life experiences and differing perspectives have created a vast gulf separating them. And yet, every relationship and heartbreak they’ve experienced separately is haunted by the shared memory of their first love. The memory which emerges from their meeting succeeds in interrupting the comic’s forward progress and allows for a flashback to circle the narrative back to the brightness of the first chapter.
But it’s only a momentary relief before life, in all its glorious indifference, forces them both to keep muddling forward.
11/17/2017
11/16/2017
Cartoon: Are You Ready for Some Football?
Go to: The Nib, by Mike Dawson
11/15/2017
11/11/2017
A User’s Guide To Neglectful Parenting
By Guy Delisle
Translation: Helge Dascher
Guy Delisle has earned a reputation as a cartoonist who portrays himself as a hapless explorer. In my review of Jerusalem, I wrote “Noting the strangeness of a place may not be particularly insightful analysis, but it works perfectly for Delisle. His stockpiling of numerous insignificant details mirrors how most clueless Westerners experience the rest of the world. Delisle has become the spokesperson for early stage culture shock because he never achieves true mastery of his subject. Not that he seems to care.” I also observed how raising a family has been increasingly taking up more of Delisle’s time and energy, making his travelogues even more rambling and incidental. His post-Jerusalem work hasn’t shown an appreciable evolution in his basic narrative style, but his storytelling in books like A User’s Guide To Neglectful Parenting have become more manageable by tightening their focus on one aspect of the cartoonist’s life. In this particular case, Delisle collects random anecdotes about his less than stellar approach to caring for two precocious children. And unlike his travelogues, there isn’t an arc connecting these separate incidents.
Delisle adapts the same everyman persona he’s used in the past. This works just as well in conveying his cluelessness when it comes to communicating with kids as it did with the locals of foreign lands. Only this time, he gets to be demonstrably angry and intimidating as a supposably adult authority figure. His level of self-absorption is just enough to be relatable to other harried parents. This results in the kind of dismissive condescension and obliviousness mixed with annoyance the average adult normally exhibits towards children. In the book’s opening story, Delisle neglects to replace his son’s fallen out baby tooth with money for two nights in a row. When the son begins to suspect his parents are the real Tooth Fairy (or its French equivalent), Delisle lies with “If it was us putting the money under your pillow, do you really think we’d forget two nights in a row?” When his son seems unimpressed with the amount of money he received for yet another tooth, a visibly upset Delisle pulls out a one-cent coin and gives the game up by making the threat "Next time I'm gonna give you this here instead of two euros!" The son’s open mouthed reaction is subtle, and hilariously appropriate to the occasion.
In addition to resorting to those kinds of white lies, Delisle engages in even more of the usual parental shenanigans. He pretends to be more informed about subjects where he knows nothing. He feigns interest in his children’s activities. He inadvertently (or deliberately) terrifies them. He occasionally harangues them, especially his son for not showing more interest in traditional manly activities like fixing the house plumbing. Anyone who’s survived their childhood and remembers the hurtful things parents casually heaped on them will understand the often impassive expressions of Delisle’s kids. But they’re also the straight man bearing witness to his inappropriate behavior. When free to write about characters he genuinely cares about without tying them to a larger, sprawling travelogue, Delisle’s humor shapes up to be sharper and funnier.
In the book’s most curious anecdote, Delisle gets to be the curmudgeonly artist reflecting on his own status in the industry. When his daughter brings him one of her drawings for inspection, Delisle does what is expected of any parent and praises her young efforts. But after a slight pause, his inner editor takes over and he begins critiquing the drawing like it’s another magazine submission. He points out all its various technical flaws, then gathers himself once again and launches into an extended rant about young cartoonists and their unwillingness to put in the work and learn proper drawing skills: “I know what you're going to say ... You're going to tell me it's your ‘style’ and that you did it on purpose. Well, kiddo, let me tell you, there's a hell of a difference between drawing like a hack and having some kind of style. Not everybody's Art Spiegelman, you know."
Heh. I wonder from where a younger Delisle heard that from?
Translation: Helge Dascher
Guy Delisle has earned a reputation as a cartoonist who portrays himself as a hapless explorer. In my review of Jerusalem, I wrote “Noting the strangeness of a place may not be particularly insightful analysis, but it works perfectly for Delisle. His stockpiling of numerous insignificant details mirrors how most clueless Westerners experience the rest of the world. Delisle has become the spokesperson for early stage culture shock because he never achieves true mastery of his subject. Not that he seems to care.” I also observed how raising a family has been increasingly taking up more of Delisle’s time and energy, making his travelogues even more rambling and incidental. His post-Jerusalem work hasn’t shown an appreciable evolution in his basic narrative style, but his storytelling in books like A User’s Guide To Neglectful Parenting have become more manageable by tightening their focus on one aspect of the cartoonist’s life. In this particular case, Delisle collects random anecdotes about his less than stellar approach to caring for two precocious children. And unlike his travelogues, there isn’t an arc connecting these separate incidents.
Delisle adapts the same everyman persona he’s used in the past. This works just as well in conveying his cluelessness when it comes to communicating with kids as it did with the locals of foreign lands. Only this time, he gets to be demonstrably angry and intimidating as a supposably adult authority figure. His level of self-absorption is just enough to be relatable to other harried parents. This results in the kind of dismissive condescension and obliviousness mixed with annoyance the average adult normally exhibits towards children. In the book’s opening story, Delisle neglects to replace his son’s fallen out baby tooth with money for two nights in a row. When the son begins to suspect his parents are the real Tooth Fairy (or its French equivalent), Delisle lies with “If it was us putting the money under your pillow, do you really think we’d forget two nights in a row?” When his son seems unimpressed with the amount of money he received for yet another tooth, a visibly upset Delisle pulls out a one-cent coin and gives the game up by making the threat "Next time I'm gonna give you this here instead of two euros!" The son’s open mouthed reaction is subtle, and hilariously appropriate to the occasion.
In addition to resorting to those kinds of white lies, Delisle engages in even more of the usual parental shenanigans. He pretends to be more informed about subjects where he knows nothing. He feigns interest in his children’s activities. He inadvertently (or deliberately) terrifies them. He occasionally harangues them, especially his son for not showing more interest in traditional manly activities like fixing the house plumbing. Anyone who’s survived their childhood and remembers the hurtful things parents casually heaped on them will understand the often impassive expressions of Delisle’s kids. But they’re also the straight man bearing witness to his inappropriate behavior. When free to write about characters he genuinely cares about without tying them to a larger, sprawling travelogue, Delisle’s humor shapes up to be sharper and funnier.
In the book’s most curious anecdote, Delisle gets to be the curmudgeonly artist reflecting on his own status in the industry. When his daughter brings him one of her drawings for inspection, Delisle does what is expected of any parent and praises her young efforts. But after a slight pause, his inner editor takes over and he begins critiquing the drawing like it’s another magazine submission. He points out all its various technical flaws, then gathers himself once again and launches into an extended rant about young cartoonists and their unwillingness to put in the work and learn proper drawing skills: “I know what you're going to say ... You're going to tell me it's your ‘style’ and that you did it on purpose. Well, kiddo, let me tell you, there's a hell of a difference between drawing like a hack and having some kind of style. Not everybody's Art Spiegelman, you know."
Heh. I wonder from where a younger Delisle heard that from?
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