“My disguise must strike terror. I must be black. Terrible. Criminals are a superstitious cowardly lot. I must be a creature. I must be a creature of the night.”
Posts tagged comics
This smashing illustration from Tony Fleecs left me with just two questions:
- Why isn’t this a real book?
- Why aren’t there pulpy Valentines?
Because I want both.
Fatale was recommended by a DfN tumblchum several months ago, and I promised to read it once the first several issues were collected. Fatale: Death Chases Me is that collection, and I can only endorse the initial recommendation. Brubaker and Phillips are always good, but Fatale is a masterpiece of noir suspense. And I said as much when I reviewed the collection for Crime Fiction Lover.
But don’t just take my word for it. Go read the review, then take my word for it.
Some observations after watching The Avengers this weekend:
- MacGuffins are okay
- Gwyneth Paltrow never wears shoes
- If you use a MacGuffin, it’s better if it’s something unsavory characters want because they’re greedy and selfish rather than some device which will allow unsavory characters to take over the world.
- Homicide detectives are much more likely to wear bow ties than genius physicists
- 3-D is pretty useless
- Jeremy Renner will be damn good in The Bourne Legacy this summer if the character isn’t as woefully underdeveloped as Hawkeye
- Summer blockbusters that don’t look like wall-to-wall CGI are all too rare
- Someone is going to reblog this photo, delete my observational commentary, and make me regret posting the picture in the first place
Amidst all the Dark Knight Returns hoopla, I thought I’d share some other news from the world of hardboiled superheroes. Here’s a teaser from the upcoming Cartoon Network series Beware the Batman. Part of the beauty of Batman is the myriad of different takes on the character—from Frank Miller’s damn-near psychopathic All-Star Batman to Adam West’s loopy Caped Crusader. After the relatively campy (but damn good) Batman: The Brave and the Bold, the next cartoon looks to be darker—perhaps in the vein of the masterful Batman: The Animated Series. Alas, it does not look like Beware the Batman will share the classic animation and art deco stylings of Batman: TAS. But there may be other noirish elements, so stay tuned!
In the mean time, I eagerly await The Dark Knight Returns.But the teasers and trailers prior to this week’s have mostly just shown explosions and glowering. And we all know Christopher Nolan is a genius because there is more to his movies than that. I’ve no doubt TDKR will be brilliant, but I refuse to get excited until the trailers give some semblance of a plot. Nolan has produced some of the finest neo-noirs and noir-inspired blockbusters I have ever seen. That’s what excites me about TDKR. But not what the manufacturers of trailers choose to emphasize. So I’m saving my excitement for the movie.
What did you think of The Spirit? Given your postingI’d assume you liked it, but curious how you thought it rated.
Eh…. The Spirit was mildly entertaining, but certainly did not capture the fantastic pulpiness of the Will Eisner comics. I’m not sure why Frank Miller thought The Spirit should have the same visual style as Sin City. The comics could not be more different. I thought Sin City (the movie) was masterful, but The Spirit was just an orgy of non-sequiturs.
Is every goddamn woman in this goddamn hellhole out of her goddamn mind?
Commissioner Dolan in The Spirit
thelamplightersserenade asked: What is your opinion of the Bernie Gunther novels by Philip Kerr?
First of all, I love the icon/avatar. The Question is a rather underappreciated superhero, IMHO.
That said, I am familiar with Bernie Gunther by reputation, but I have yet to meet him. I’ve seen the books in bookstores, but haven’t yet read one. They look very good, and they come recommended highly. I certainly want to read them, but there is rather a large backlog, so I don’t know how soon that is likely to happen.
coopersdreams asked: Not sure if it's been brought to your attention already, but you might like "Fatale" from Image Comics. It's not exactly hard-boiled detective style, but they've got the atmosphere down pat!
I have heard of this, and it looks quite interesting. I highly recommend Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips’ previous efforts: Sleeper, Criminal and Incognito. Brubaker was also very good with Darwyn Cooke in Catwoman: The Dark End of the Street. I will certainly track Fatale down once it’s published in a collected edition.
![[NOTE: I inadvertently posted this before it was finished. It’s all there now.]
How do you measure a year? Didn’t that used to be a popular Broadway song? Doesn’t matter. I was never good at measuring things. I don’t measure years. I get enough people telling me it’s my birthday. And I know I’m older. Simple as that.
Simple. And superfluous. Age hasn’t changed me. But the past year has. I can measure my birthday, if I can’t measure a year. The bourbon in this year’s glass is about eight years older than the rye I drank last birthday, and infinitely smoother. I didn’t have snazzy Batman cuff links a year ago.
And that’s my year. The whiskey is older and I’m fastening my shirt-sleeves with postage stamps. Some year.
But it was. Well, most of it: the ten months after I met the moll. The cuff links were a Christmas gift from her. I wasn’t drinking alone because she was here. I still read noir, but I’m on the outside looking in. I’m not slowly circling the drain any longer.
But I still don’t know how to measure a year. That’s all right. I can measure a happy birthday. So I did that instead. But that didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know. Turns out a happy birthday has the exact same lovely measurements as the woman who made me a very happy birthday boy on Saturday night.](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1u1tmQOxw1qmsauuo1_400.jpg)
[NOTE: I inadvertently posted this before it was finished. It’s all there now.]
How do you measure a year? Didn’t that used to be a popular Broadway song? Doesn’t matter. I was never good at measuring things. I don’t measure years. I get enough people telling me it’s my birthday. And I know I’m older. Simple as that.
Simple. And superfluous. Age hasn’t changed me. But the past year has. I can measure my birthday, if I can’t measure a year. The bourbon in this year’s glass is about eight years older than the rye I drank last birthday, and infinitely smoother. I didn’t have snazzy Batman cuff links a year ago.
And that’s my year. The whiskey is older and I’m fastening my shirt-sleeves with postage stamps. Some year.
But it was. Well, most of it: the ten months after I met the moll. The cuff links were a Christmas gift from her. I wasn’t drinking alone because she was here. I still read noir, but I’m on the outside looking in. I’m not slowly circling the drain any longer.
But I still don’t know how to measure a year. That’s all right. I can measure a happy birthday. So I did that instead. But that didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know. Turns out a happy birthday has the exact same lovely measurements as the woman who made me a very happy birthday boy on Saturday night.
