Cover for Hellboy - The Island #1
After two years at the bottom of the ocean - and a four year absence from comic shelves - Mike Mignola's Hellboy made his triumphant return last Wednesday in Hellboy - The Island #1. To me, the strangest thing was the lack of publicity; I had heard that it was coming out, but didn't know when or where. I mean, the movie brought in close to $100 million worldwide, so they have a fanbase: you'd figure they'd want to at least give the comic stores some posters or something...anyhow. This isn't about Dark Horse's PR Department, it's about the book. And it's a damn fine one.
The story's a little convoluted: in the present, Hellboy surfaces on an island surrounded by the skeletons of wrecked ships and finds himself facing an old enemy, while in the past, a priest confronts a heretic with his sins. The stories shift in a surreal fashion, and by the end of the first issue, you know something's gone terribly wrong, but you're not sure what it was or what it means. Some might see the unclear story as bad writing, but I think it's a good narrative strategy: it's Hellboy's first time above water, so he's probably a little groggy himself, and keeping the audience in the dark is a classic horror convention because it works.
The book's strengths have always been Mignola's characterization of Hellboy and his visual style, and this book has them in spades. Hellboy could have been a really melodramatic character; the demon who rejects his true nature, unaware of his origins or his true history. Mignola makes him a blue-collar guy, who likes brawling, boozing, and the occasional classic work of literature. His character is compelling simply because he's an ordinary guy who's put in extraordinary situations, who just happens to be spawned from the netherworld. My favourite line from the book - "Don't mess with me lady. I've been drinking with skeletons." - sums up his situation quite succinctly.
Mignola also give us a visual feast in this issue. His art is highly stylized, panels containing only what is absolutely needed for that part of the scene. In the close-ups, facial expressions are overwhelming and the backgrounds are single colors with little detail, and in shots of vast backgrounds or large-scale fight scenes, his characters can lack even the simplest of facial details. And through it all, huge black shadows fall across recessed hallways, ancient buildings, and weathered faces that populate this world. The art is striking and instantly recognizable, and Mignola in top form in this issue.
Hellboy - The Island is only a two-issue series, and that's the only bad thing I can say about it. After four years, I simply want more Hellboy, more often. But I'll make due with what I can get.
(Best suggestion from Blogger's spellcheck: "Hellboy? What the hell does that mean? He must be thinking elbow.")
(Note: Ninja - don't read this until you're finished the series. No real spoilers, I just don't want to inadvertently ruin your enjoyment of the series.)
When I found out that Marvel comics killed Thor and all the Asgardians in the "Ragnarok" storyline, I wasn't that concerned. I hadn't been reading Marvel comics for a while, and I certainly hadn't been reading Thor. But then I read that Mike Avon Oeming, the guy who penned "Ragnarok" and who draws the very excellent Powers, was writing a Beta Ray Bill miniseries, and my exact words were "Hell yes!"
(Beta Ray Bill - Best Dressed Space Horse, 1985, 1987, 1992, 2005.)
In brief: Beta Ray Bill first appeared in Thor #337. He was a biomechanically altered being who was the guardian of a dying race. Thor believed he was a threat to Earth, and went off for one of those necessary big fight scenes, during which Bill disarmed Thor, and then picked up the mystical hammer Mjolnir. Thor was surprised - as were the readers - because it was thought that only Thor was worthy enough to hold the weapon. The two met up again in Asgard, where Odin decided that they should engage in mortal combat to see who was the most worthy. After another long fight, Bill beat Thor, but refused to kill such a worthy adversary. Odin was so thankful that Bill spared his son's life that he gave Bill an enchanted mace that was almost as powerful as Mjolnir, called Stormbreaker. And so began the legend of Beta Ray Bill, the most powerful horse in the Marvel Universe.
When I was a kid, I was mesmerized by this guy. Someone who's stronger and more relentless than Thor? The only person worthy enough to hold Mjolnir (that is, before they let anyone hold it, including Captain America, Superman, Wonder Woman, and...Spider-Man?)? Who has a talking spaceship? And is the last hope of a doomed race? This is the kind of space opera my five-year-old brain, still reeling from the spectacle that was Return of the Jedi, could really get behind.
So. Now it's 2005, and the book that nobody wanted - except Ninja, myself, and about thirty other people - is finished its six issue run. How was it?
Okay, I guess. I mean, space opera is not a genre that pops up in a lot of comics, but this was a pretty good one. Oeming and writing partner Dan Berman go absolutely insane with the plot, realizing that they need to touch on a whole lot of history in only six issues. Suffice it to say that they involve the destruction of Asgard, the destruction of Bill's home world, a visit from The Devourer of Planets, portals to alternate dimensions, four huge interstellar battles, and Skuttlebutt, the best talking spaceship of all-time (I'm looking at you, Andromeda). It's a return to the tradition of Jim Starlin-esque space comics, which might be too implausible for some readers, but I was gigglingly happy for five issues. (Only five, you say? Just you wait; all will be explained.)
The dialogue, by comparison, is weak. They cut back on the flowery prose that was a trademark of the Thor comics - god, how I missed "I say thee nay!" - which should have made for more even-handed dialogue all around. But they put conventional figures of speech and contractions in Bill's mouth, and it just doesn't work. A guy can't say "Don't sweat it, girl" and "I call upon thee to smite this evil thing that would destroy us all!!!" in the same comic. He just can't.
Even with teeth-gritting dialogue and an incredulous plot, Stormbreaker was totally worth what I paid for it, because Andrea DiVito's art brought the entire thing to life for me. The galaxy-spanning fights were gorgeous; I could almost feel the power behind every blow and burned with Bill's fury. The smaller, more personal scenes were nicely drawn, too, with touches of tenderness and real emotion that the dialogue didn't always convey. Good story, great art, and the return of one Marvel's most overlooked characters, this series hit all the right points. I give the first five issues a solid recommendation.
The sixth issue, though...I just don't know. At the end of Issue 5, Beta Ray Bill is pounding all hell out of yet another foe in the fiery ruins of Asgard, flashes of magical energy all around, and the sound of his mighty hammer overpowering the thunder in the sky. At the beginning of Issue 6, we open on...a homeless guy who almost gets hit by a car? Driven by a guy who can turn into a giant mutant pig monster? And then...Spider-Man? What the hell is Spider-Man doing here!?! This last issue is stunningly bad. Using my previous Jedi reference, it's as if Vader throws the Emperor over the banister, and then you cut to a very confused Indiana Jones having margaritas on the beach. It makes absolutely no sense, and it's very unsatisfying
Putting Bill on Earth takes him way out of his element, and it takes the punch out of the previous five issues. He's supposed to be a starfaring Norse alien with a talking spaceship, not living in Manhattan being "just another superhero". I was left feeling foolish for enjoying the grand adventure of the earlier issues, and resenting that Spider-Man had to pop up to legitimize the series for the typical Marvel reader.
Stepping back for a moment, I realize I'm being a cranky guy who rants on the Internet about comics, one step away from saying crap like "Bring back Hawkeye!" or "Blue Beetle 4ever!" Really though, I'm just trying to give a review of what was a very promising series. I thought the first five issues were solid gold, and comics-minded people should track down some copies and read them. Stormbreaker: The Saga of Beta Ray Bill gets an overall rating of 6/10; with the breakdown being 8/10, 8/10, 7/10, 7/10, 7/10, and 1/10.
Movie: Last Man Standing (1996)
Cross-posted from Worst Ninja Ever.
Say what you will about Bruce Willis, but I think he's a mighty fine actor with a fine selection of enjoyable movies that reside, or should reside, on my DVD shelf. One of these films which has recently made its way into my DVD collection is the classic re-telling of a classic film based on an even more classic novel. That's right, I'm talking about "Last Man Standing" (1996), the Walter Hill film which stars Willis among a stellar cast that includes Christopher Walken, David Patrick Kelly and Ned Eisenberg.
This dusty, sun-baked film follows one John Smith (Willis), a selfish, uncompromising man who drifts into a desert hamlet near the Mexican border and becomes embroiled in a gang war between an Italian gang and an Irish one. The two groups have entered an uneasy ceasefire while each is trying to out-think the other, only to have their carefully-laid truce broken by the newcomer, John Smith, who happily and adroitly plays one side against the other in exchange for a fat payoff.
In his machinations, Smith begins to make enemies on both sides: first, by embarrassing the Italian lieutenant, Girogio (Michael Imperioli), and then by refusing to work for Doyle, the Irish boss (Kelly). Not about to let anyone stop him from getting what he wants, Smith even goes so far as to seduce the Italian boss's moll and stand up to the Irish gang's unstoppable enforcer, Hickey (an unusually animated Walken).
But all is not remorseless killing and guns, guns, guns for Smith. He finds himself sympathizing with the women attached to the gangs, so much so that his unbreakable mask of ice starts to crack. He finds he cares less and less about the money and playing the gangs against each other, and more for the welfare and safety of these women. He is nearly too late to help the moll, who comes to him badly beaten and with one ear savagely cut off by the Italian boss and his cronies, but he spends the bulk of the second half of the film dealing with the Irish boss's reluctant girlfriend, who wants only to return to Mexico to be with her daughter.
While the amount of male posturing and gunplay in "Last Man Standing" is expected, the depth of the characters is a welcome relief from the cliches which might otherwise make this another forgettable western movie. To be honest, the John Smith character isn't much more than the stone cold killer with a heart under a hard shell borne of heartbreak and pain, but director Walter Hill surrounds him with such shining supporting characters like the bartender, Joe Monday (William Sanderson), and the ineffectual yet noble sheriff Ed Galt (Bruce Dern). The small cast only serves to emphasize Smith's almost hesitant interactions with others, almost unwilling to treat anyone as human until it is almost too late.
I'd seen the movie before and remember enjoying it, but it wasn't until I watched it again that I discovered why I like it so much. It's not an action-packed, explosion-a-minute kill-fest like the Die Hard franchise, and it doesn't have the colourful, surreal quirkiness of The Fifth Element. What it does have is atypical, sympathetic characters that surprise the viewer. And a delightful surprise it is, too.
Doyle is a typical gang boss, sure, but his weakness isn't just the girl he's all but forced to be his companion; it's the love and devotion he genuinely feels for her. When Smith releases the girl from her open prison, Doyle grieves for her loss and implores Smith more than once to help him look for her, even after Doyle discovers that Smith is the one to release her. The almost legendary Hickey is shown to be more than just a little human when it comes time for a final showdown, and Walken plays it up to almost comic effect.
This movie, like Sergio Leone's "A Fistful of Dollars" (1964), is a re-telling of the 1961 Akira Kurosawa film, "Yojimbo," starring the immortal Toshiro Mifune. "Yojimbo" itself is based on the 1927 Dashiell Hammett first novel, "Red Harvest" (1929).
