Monday, September 7, 2009

Damn - I was hoping for Erica Durance.


I googled him (Princess was really impressed that he would approach one of the trainers at our gym), didn’t realize he was as famous as he is. Shows how much I keep up with TV culture. And I even have cable...
- Laurie Smith
Ooo ah, it looks as if Laurie is going to be training Justin Hartley, who plays the role of Green Arrow on Smallville! Now, I have to admit to not being an enthusiastic follower of the tale of Clark Kent's developmental years, although I do think that out of the various actors to tackle the role of Kal-El, Tom Welling is probably the closest to what I thought Superman might actually look like.

However, I have watched the show enough that I was one up on Laurie in recognizing the actor to whom she was referring. I suspect that I'm actually two up, since I'm somewhat willing to bet that she's never heard of Green Arrow, either. Not a big surprise if that's the case - GA is certainly one of the lesser-known characters in the DC Comics pantheon when compared to Superman, Wonder Woman or Batman.

The funny thing is that Green Arrow's lineage is almost as long as Batman's. Two years after the Caped Crusader made his debut in 1939, the world was introduced to archery wizard Oliver Jonas Queen, a.k.a. Green Arrow, another millionaire playboy/crimefighter whose early adventures bore a remarkable resemblance to those of Bruce Wayne. Apparently there was only so much demand for independently wealthy vigilantes, and Green Arrow and his array of trick bowshafts limped along in a lame-duck/backup feature/supporting role for almost 30 years.

In 1969 Green Arrow was unexpectedly re-invented as the social conscience of DC, and explored a variety of storylines dealing with issues such as poverty, racism, and political corruption. I say "unexpectedly" because for the most part, comic book characters have existed at a slight remove from the ebb and flow of everyday events. The original precedent was set by Superman, who conspicuously failed to fly to Europe and defeat Hitler during WWII.

This unusual approach to the character led to the production of what some consider to be one of the most ground-breaking storylines in the history of comics: the two-issue 1972 story dealing with the discovery that Speedy, Arrow's teenage sidekick, was addicted to heroin*. At the time, artist Neal Adams and writer Dennis O'Neill didn't think they'd even be allowed to run the issues, since any stories dealing with drugs were strictly forbidden under the Comics Code Authority, let alone stories that showed one of the heroes shooting up on smack.

Surprisingly, the CCA approved the comics, marking the first signs that the guidelines introduced in the 50's might not be as iron-clad as everyone believed them to be. The story received a substantial amount of media attention, and John Lindsay, then mayor of New York, sent DC Comics a letter of commendation.

Shortly thereafter, the title was cancelled, and Green Arrow returned to a supporting role in the DC universe. The shared Green Lantern/Green Arrow title was revived again in 1976, but GA proved less popular than GL, and the Emerald Archer was shifted off to supporting stories again.

Since then, Green Arrow has been through a constant revolving door cycle of redefinition and cancellation. In the past few years, the character has fallen prey to the same sort of look-he's-dead-look-he's-alive-look-it-wasn't-really-him silliness that I mentioned in my last post, to the point where I couldn't definitively determine whether the current comic book Green Arrow was both a) Oliver Queen and b) alive.

And the television version? Well, as I said, I really haven't followed Smallville in a consistent fashion, but from what I have seen, the television Green Arrow occupies much more of a leadership role than the comic book one. In Smallville, he's the formative influence behind the creation of the Justice League, and acts as a constant goad for Clark to accept his destiny as a hero. The writers have echoed the famous 70s storyline by having Oliver himself suffer from problems with addiction, and currently he controls Lex Luthor's financial empire. However, even with all of these elements, I somehow find the character to be lacking a certain degree of depth.

But let's look at this rationally - the part of Green Arrow/Oliver Queen is after all a supporting one, and as such may not offer Mr. Hartley all of the acting opportunities that the leading role would give him. And it could be worse. After all, he did an unsuccessful pilot for an Aquaman spinoff before getting the role of Green Arrow, and if you thought Green Arrow was an obscure character...
- Sid

*Okay, everyone who thought, "Hey, wouldn't it be funnier for a guy named Speedy to be hooked on amphetamines?" can go sit in the corner for a few minutes.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

In business news: Disney buys Marvel Comics.


I have to admit that I don't follow current events very closely. I get the New York Times headlines via e-mail every morning, and watch The Daily Show when opportunity allows, but for the most part I'm more concerned about the day's weather than the price of crude oil or the latest death toll in Afghanistan.

But every now and then something of particular interest will sneak by, and I'll regret that I'm not paying more attention. As an example, I just found out that the Disney Corporation has recently purchased Marvel Comics for a price of four billion dollars, an event which certainly doesn't compare with the importance of updates on the economic crisis, but which has been the topic of much amused and/or horrified discussion in the fan community.

Personally, I no longer follow the comics scene closely, because about fifteen years ago I began to realize that both Marvel and DC were starting to run in circles in their attempts to maintain the various shopworn titles responsible for their success. There have been alternate realities, crossovers, character reboots, deaths and revivals, future versions of the characters, and a hundred and one other tricks designed to conceal the fact that they'd gone to the well once too often. Most people aren't aware that Marvel went bankrupt in 1996, but I have to wonder if part of that financial failure was based on too many other fans coming to the same realization that I had.

However, Marvel Comics hasn't really been a comic book company for some time. Ike Perlmutter, who took over after the 1996 crisis, owns the action figure company that had the licenses for the Marvel character line - note that Mr. Perlmutter isn't connected with publishing. What Marvel Comics represents in the 21st century is a huge storehouse of characters and plots that can be moved into other areas: action figures, Lego kits, t-shirts, video games, television shows, movies - I'm not even sure that it matters if they keep producing stories that involve ink and paper. (I suspect that the combined profits from the Marvel-based movie lineup since Spiderman 1 was released in 2002 makes the income from actual comic sales look like a joke.)

And that's what Disney is buying, the opportunity to add the Marvel lineup to its already monolithic array of merchandisable assets. All jokes about the Amazing Spider-Mouse aside, I don't think that Disney is going to do anything to alter the Marvel universe so that it matches the traditional view of Walt's approach to family entertainment. Why would they? All that really matters is that they get five cents every time some soccer mom buys a pair of Spiderman™ Underoos for junior.

Sadly, that also means that they won't do anything to change it for the better, either.
- Sid

P.S. the photocomp picture of Wolverine is just something I threw together for this posting, but for a comprehensive view of the horrifying hybrids made possible by the merger, have a look at the contest on Worth1000.com.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

District 9: "We have met the enemy, and they are us."


And what is science fiction at its best but just such a "new tool" as Mrs. Woolf had avowedly sought for fifty years ago, a crazy, protean, left-handed monkey wrench, which can be put to any use the craftsman has in mind - satire, extrapolation, prediction, absurdity, exactitude, exaggeration, warning, message-carrying, tale-telling, whatever you like.
- Ursula K. LeGuin, Science Fiction and Mrs. Brown
I've often spoken about the "what if" role of science fiction, but that glib tag ignores the power of the genre in terms of asking questions - and questioning answers. Now, I don't claim for a moment that every piece of science fiction in the world is the intellectual equivalent of 1984 or Brave New World, but as Ms. LeGuin points out in her essay, SF offers some unique tools to anyone who wants to take apart the world and see how it works. Personally, I prefer to think of it as a toolkit rather than a single wrench, since there are different themes in science fiction that offer different opportunities.

The Alien is one of the more useful tools in the science fiction kit, one that offers both a mirror to our existence, and a telescope through which to examine us from a distance. As an example, in The War of the Worlds, H. G. Well's Martians are a distorted reflection of the British Empire, allowing him to show England suffering from the same sort of technologically superior attack that the Empire had itself visited on its colonies in its ascent to power.

District 9 uses a similar technique in its tale of humanity's - specifically, South Africa's* - reaction to extraterrestrial castaways. We're all familiar with stories about single aliens being marooned on Earth - ET, Starman, K-Pax - Escape to Witch Mountain, if you're being charitable. But what if instead of one little alien with a glowing finger and a desire to call home, there are a million such visitors? How do we treat them?

This question is certainly not unique in the genre, and it's already been addressed on the big screen and on television with the 1988 film Alien Nation, and the TV series and made-for-TV movies using the same title. However, the freed Tenctonese slave race in Alien Nation is close enough to humanity that they are able to integrate themselves into Terran society, albeit with tensions on both sides of the equation.

District 9 paints a grimmer picture. The aliens here are grotesque arthropods, with faces that are a disgusting blend of insect and shrimp, giving rise to the derogatory nickname of "prawns". The exact nature of the catastrophe which has caused their massive starship to be stranded here is unknown, but when humanity fearfully cuts its way into the silently hovering craft after three months of mounting apprehension, the ship is found to be packed with starving, dying aliens.

The aliens are removed from the ship, and placed in crude temporary housing while they are treated and attempts are made to communicate with them. To everyone's frustration, the aliens seem to be some kind of worker caste, moody, unintelligent, and unpredictable, and the alien technology is tagged to their DNA and as a result completely unresponsive to the touch of humanity.

Over 20 years later, the temporary housing has become de facto permanent housing, and District 9, the alien "reservation", is a massive, sprawling, stinking slum, which has begun to strain at its boundaries. Violent encounters between the aliens and humans have become frequent, and human rioters are demanding that something be done. As a result, MNU, the corporation in charge of managing the aliens, has decided to forcibly relocate them.

Much of the action is presented in a documentary format, and the jerky, handheld footage gives it both a feel of realism and a different kind of dynamic energy. Admittedly, there are points where the switch from documentary to drama makes for some confusion, but for the most part the feeling of watching a live CNN feed works very well to connect District 9 with the way in which most of us experience current events.

As part of that connection, I have to acknowledge the amazing acting ability of South African actor Sharlto Copley. Copley brilliantly plays the role of Wikus van der Merwe, the clumsy, inept mid-level bureaucrat in charge of the brutal alien relocation, all of whose success is the result of patronage on the part of his father-in-law. From the moment we first see Wikus on the screen, he is a completely believable character, to the point that he doesn't appear to be a character at all, just another man on the street. However, when Wikus has an accidental encounter with an alien fuel source and begins to transform into a "prawn", that everyday existence is completely destroyed, along with his callous attitude toward the aliens.

As soon as Wikus is considered to be one of "them", his treatment sharply illustrates the brutal indifference with which the aliens have been treated. He is shunned, hunted, beaten, tortured, electroshocked, and forced to kill alien subjects with their own weapons. After his employers, including his father-in-law, determine that he is now capable of activating the alien technology, they decide to slice up his living body and harvest his mutating DNA in hopes of duplicating his newfound capabilities.

Wikus escapes, but his isolation from humanity forces him to take refuge in District 9. Once there, he becomes involved in a plan on the part of one of the aliens to activate their ship and make the three-year round trip to their homeworld for help.

District 9 is not a fully developed story in many ways, but I don't think that it needs or intends to be. It's really more of a thought experiment, a well-presented "what if" of alien contact, than an attempt to present a fully rounded and complete plotline, and as such I found that the various logical faults in the story didn't in any way stop me from enjoying the story.

Although a sequel is an obvious possibility, I hope that director Neill Blomkamp takes up new projects. The uncertain conclusion, with its unresolved issues, perfectly suits the ambiguous nature of the story. A movie that attempted to resolve the moral issues raised in this film with some kind of alien ex machina would seem to me to be some kind of a cheat, an easy way out instead of the sort of labourious societal process that led to the current South African political environment.

Or maybe not. Perhaps the arrival of an armada of angry alien molluscs would be the perfect next step in the thought experiment. How would Prime Minister Botha and the National Party have reacted if during his inauguration in 1978, a delegation of several million "Bantus" from Tau Ceti, armed with plasma rifles and sonic cannons, had shown up to discuss their policies regarding apartheid?
- Sid

* I've read a number of angry online comments that derided the film for its apparent blindness to the progress that's been made in South Africa since the collapse of apartheid, and equally angry responses pointing out that anyone who thinks racism is dead in South Africa is just as blind to the realities of everyday life there. Obviously I can't address either side of that question, but it's impossible to ignore the resonance of placing the story in that particular setting.