Friday, January 23, 2015

5 DC Comic Books That Would Make Pretty Good TV Shows

If someone asked me what my favorite comic book company was, and for some reason I wasn’t allowed to mention Image or Dark Horse, I’d have to go with DC. I don’t particularly hate Marvel, I’ve read a decent amount of comics from them in my day, I’ve just always found myself more interested in the DC line. Perhaps it was that DC Comics seemed to trend more towards the fantastical and the abstract, rather than the more ‘realistic’ tone that Marvel claims to be going for, and I’ve always preferred that direction when it came to superhero comics. Although nowadays DC is trying to get on the ‘gritty, realistic’ kick with their nu52 universe, which would explain why I don’t really read modern comics at all. Apart from Image, which has gotten better since the wild & wonderful 1990’s.

Comic books don’t really matter anymore though. It’s all about the multi-media franchising these days, and in that regard the two biggest superhero companies have been almost dead equal. Marvel has undoubtedly had the upper hand in movies recently, as their Cinematic Universe has bore a great harvest of money fruit, which WB has been desperately trying to replicate by retooling Batman v. Superman into a Justice League movie. Marvel has the famous fighting game series Marvel vs. Capcom, and DC has the Arkham series. Marvel has Wolverine Blues by Entombed, DC has Pocket Full of Kryptonite by Spin Doctors. Equal.
TV appears to have become the next major conflict in the ongoing superhero wars, and while Marvel has taken the initiative in the movie industry, DC has traditionally had a much better track record when it comes to television. Just in a year or so we’ve had the critically lauded Arrow, the Flash, Gotham, Constantine, and the upcoming Supergirl series on CBS, not to mention previous success with series like Smallville and Lois & Clark. DC also has a history of fantastic animated series as well, including the infamous Batman: The Animated Series, Justice League and Justice League Unlimited, which are some of the best action cartoons ever made. Marvel has Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (which I will likely never watch) and did have a pretty well received Spider-Man and Avengers cartoon going on (before they canceled them, naturally), but in this regard they are the ones playing catch-up. Not equal.

The point is I wanted an excuse to make a new list, and since DC is apparently much more comfortable adapting their properties to television rather than on the silver screen, I came up with five comic books/superheroes that I wouldn’t mind seeing on a primetime slot on cable or showing up on netflix or amazon prime at some point. If you have your own personal preferences, feel free to state them in the comment section.

Let’s Begin...

5. The Question



I believe it fits the definition of irony that a character that was created entirely as a thinly veiled replacement for a different character completely surpassed the original in terms of popularity. The copy I’m referring to is Rorschach, the breakout character of Alan Moore’s landmark comic book series Watchmen, and the original is The Question. In fact, for all you non-comic fans out there, several of the characters in Watchmen were based on characters from the then-recently required Charlton Comics properties that DC refused to let Moore use for the series, Nite Owl was a stand-in for Blue Beetle, Doctor Manhattan was a retooled Captain Atom and so. One became the darling of casual comic readers and got to star in a lackluster movie (not uncommon for an adaptation of a Moore work), and the other got a couple moments on Justice League Unlimited, was ultimately killed off and replaced by a woman (Renee Montoya actually, whom I know chiefly from B:TAS), who also seems to have been forgotten in the shuffle of the company’s ongoing explosive diarrhea of the mouth. A sad twist of fate, but not really surprising at this point.

The Question, otherwise known as Vic Sage or Vic Szasz was originally created by the legendary Steve Ditko, who you might know as one of the artists to some obscure book called Spider-Man. A riff on one of Ditko’s earlier creations, Mr. A, replacing A’s mask with his now signature faceless mask, The Question was a reflection of Ditko’s passion for Objectivism, of which he was an ardent follower. A being of cold, unflinching logic (which Objectivists like to believe themselves to be), Vic Sage is not interested in the bloated bureaucracy of society or the laws it pretends to follow. The only answer the Question cares about is justice, and when the police are ill-equipped or too incompetent to act, he is all-too-willing to enforce it himself. Not a far cry from that to the hyper-conservative, sociopathic nature of Rorschach in Watchmen really, although viewed through the lens of a  dystopian 80’s future and Moore’s own beliefs on the subject.

It wasn’t until the late 80s that The Question reached what is at this point is its greatest critical success. The new creative team headed by Denny O'Neil, who had previously done some fabulous work on Batman and Marvel’s Moon Knight, decided to take the character in a new and ultimately worthwhile direction. Vic Sage is the biggest and best reporter in Hub City, the biggest and worst hive of scum and villainy in the United States that doesn’t have a murderous clown as a resident, and he’s also The Question, the faceless vigilante waging a one-man war on the forces of crime and corruption. After a botched job leaves him better off dead, Sage is taken in by martial arts master Richard Dragon, who nurses him back to health. One year later The Question is back in Hub City, stronger and more Zen than ever before, ready to right what once went wrong. But if one year was all it took to make Vic Sage reinvent himself, imagine what a year without The Question has done to Hub City…

While I’m sure that a character that has no facial features likely sounds like anathema to TV execs, who deal in recognizable faces, a crime drama with a suitable enough twist is worth at least a couple of seasons nowadays. The Denny O’Neil iteration would be the obvious show focus, but you could either jump into that era right off the bat or spend some time building up the Ditko Question before you make the transition. No heavy superhero stuff to scare people away (but the ability to crossover if necessary), no need for a huge special effects budget, there doesn’t really seem to be a reason not to do it. Maybe put it somewhere other than the CW though, somewhere a bit more suited to ‘hard boiled’ than ‘teen drama’. No offense to the CW, but a show striving to be the True Detective of superhero fiction would look a bit silly placed next to Jane the Virgin and True Blood.

4. Blue Beetle



If you ever wanted to see an example of superhero comics fear of change, check out legacy characters. It seems like a legitimate idea, you like a concept of a superhero or even team but feel like you’ve done all you can with the specific character, so you take the concept and place it onto a new character, with presumably a whole bunch of new angles to work from. Occasionally it doesn’t work out very well (you won’t see much praise for Kupperberg’s Doom Patrol from me), but some of the most popular characters in comic books are in fact legacy characters. The Flash, the various Green Lanterns, Captain Marvel (the Marvel Comics version, not the real one), the Human Torch, Starman, all are updated models of older superheroes.

Whether it’s due to persistent fan outrage, executive stubbornness, a pathological hoarding mentality or simple greed however, no one seems to be able to let go. Barry Allen had about as poignant death as superheroes comics get, setting up Wally West’s terrific tenure as The Flash, and now Wally West doesn’t even exist in-universe and Barry Allen is the new corporate mandate. Ben Reilly wasn’t allowed to be Spider-Man, and since the Ultimate Universe is likely going to be ending it means that Miles Morales isn’t allowed either. Et cetera. I know that a lot of these characters are iconic, and that when money talks it’s usually for the status quo, but it does lead to some muddled continuity and idiotic decisions. It’s how Batman has trained three orphans from childhood into highly trained vigilantes and had preteen son by his mid 30’s, and Peter Parker sold his marriage to Mary Jane to the Devil to save the life of an octogenarian. It feels less like interesting creative directions and more like life support. Maybe I’m just not cut out for comics.

Although not as star-studded as The Flash or GL, a good case of legacy character can be found in the Blue Beetle. Originally the mystically powered Dan Garret, a basic meat & potatoes type hero back in the Golden Age, the Blue Beetle was later revived by Charlton (and eventually DC) as Ted Kord, wise-cracking technical wizard protecting the city of Chicago from all types of creeps and otherwise. Kord had a good couple of years, with his own solo runs, his stuff with Booster Gold and Justice League International, but eventually DC apparently decided the character had run its course. Eventually they kill Ted, rather unceremoniously sad to say, and replaced him with wise-cracking teenager Jaime Reyes and his awesome techno-organic bug suit, to have wacky adventures in space and/or El Paso (at least in his  short-lived solo series, I think they threw him onto the Teen Titans for a while after that). Each generation takes the idea and the history of Blue Beetle and manages to interpret it in new ways while still standing on its own two feet. I like Ted. I like Jaime. Jaime is a interesting enough character and a good enough Blue Beetle that bringing Ted back didn’t feel necessary. That’s how it should work.

That being said, for a Blue Beetle show I wouldn’t mind seeing either Ted or Jaime, although corporate mandate would likely lean toward Reyes. A Jaime Reyes led show would obviously be a teen drama with action thrown in for kicks, hispanic Buffy with more genocidal scarab suits and a doubtlessly prohibitive budget  for what the show would require. A Ted Kord show would be, I can only hope, Parker Lewis Can’t Lose without the high school and extra supervillains. We’d probably end up getting a Wonder Twins miniseries before DC would even touch a Blue Beetle show, but if it was anything like those two ideas, I’d be a happy man.

3. Jonah Hex



When you think of comic books, it’s natural to associate it with the thought of superheroes. After all, superheroes are billion dollar properties now, and comic books are where such things are normally found. However, it would be wrong to think that the comic book industry is strictly based around superheros, or even that superheroes were always in vogue when it comes to comic books. In fact, during the early years of comic books up until the Silver Age, characters like Superman or Wonder Woman had to share the spotlight or even step down as the medium broadened its horizons in an attempt to follow the trends or snag a couple more readers. You had your war comics like Sgt. Rock, comedy mags based on Bob Hope and Jerry Lewis, romance comics, and of course comics based on that most American of genres: Westerns. And the one character to come out of the western comics boom to survive to the modern day is Jonah Hex.

Riding a blazing saddle out of the pages of All-Star Western in the late 70s, Jonah Hex was the breakout character of DC’s attempt to cash in on the resurgence of popularity in the Western genre, which itself had received a shot in the arm thanks to the films of Sergio Leone and the other ‘spaghetti western’ directors of the day. Sporting a Confederate army uniform, trained in the ways of hunting and tracking by the Apache, looking like Clint Eastwood lost a fight with a belt sander, Jonah Hex is the premier bounty hunter of the late 19th century American territories. With a heart as cold as the revolvers on his holsters, Hex is a textbook anti-hero: Sympathetic  to  innocent and downtrodden, but perfectly willing and able to put a couple chunks of lead into any criminal, lowlife or douchebag that happens to get between him and his payday. Although his long and sordid career has taken him in bizarre directions, including a stint in the future and some weird westerns business, the core of the character has always been the same, which is more than you can see for a lot of other comic characters who have been around for a decade or two. Before Wolverine made being a gruff badass boring, there was Jonah Hex.

Jonah Hex has already had the misfortune of having its own lackluster feature-length film, which is notable only for being less a less notable modern western than The Lone Ranger. Assuming that DC hasn’t labeled the IP toxic for anything other than comic books, which given the brains over at WB is certainly a possibility, I see no reason why Hex couldn’t make for a decent TV show. Make it gritty and hard-boiled as hell, give it an hour and put it on HBO or Showtime, maybe FX, and I see no reason why it couldn’t succeed. Even cooler if it dipped into 'weird western' territories, like Brisco County Jr. directed by Sergio Leone or the Wild Wild West starring Clint Eastwood and Lee van Cleef, just because I can't think of any western shows since those that played with the formula like that. Which is likely what the Hex movie attempted to do and failed, but I guess movie audiences are still traumatized by Will Smith's Wild Wild West and Cowboys vs. Aliens. TV westerns are still an open frontier

2. The Doom Patrol



A noticeable bit of time before Marvel hit it big with their team of superpowered heroes that are shunned by the very society they strive to protect (the X-men, in case you couldn’t guess), DC was in fact the first to hit the newsstands with their own version of outcast avengers, The Doom Patrol. Rather than going for the ‘white people facing discrimination?!’ route of the original X-men comics however, DC decided to go a step further to make sure that their team was firmly in the social pariah camp. Cliff Steele, or Robotman, had his brain placed inside a robot body after his real one was destroyed in a racing accident. Larry Trainor, or Negative Man, was possessed by a being made of radio waves after a Army test flight went awry, but as a result had to be perpetually wrapped in specially treated bandages to keep his body from leaking deadly amounts of radiation. Movie star Rita Farr breathed in lethal doses of volcanic gases after a failed stunt leaves her stranded in those strange bits of land that potential superheroes always seem to find themselves in, which subsequently allow her to shift her size at will (the most ‘normal’ member of the Patrol, but then you can’t expect preteen boys to pleasure themselves to women who look funny now can you). Niles Caulder, otherwise known as the Doom Patrol’s leader The Chief, became paraplegic after botched surgery from a robot he programmed to remove a bomb placed inside his body by a guy who was attempting to steal his formula for eternal life (don’t ask). Alongside Rita’s rich douchebag husband Mento and their teen was Garfield ‘Beast Boy’ Logan (his debut appearance, years before he became famous as a member of the Teen Titans), The Doom Patrol took on some of the weirdest supervillains in the comic world, including The Brain and his talking gorilla sidekick Monsieur Mallah, alien conqueror Garguax and his Plastic Men, and the infamous Animal-Vegetable-Mineral Man. The Hayes Code may have been in effect at the time, but somebody in the DC offices had to be taking some sort of illicit substances of some kind, and for a while it translated into great commercial success.

After a tepidly received (and not just by me) revival by Paul Kupperberg in the mid 80s, the creative reigns to the Patrol were handed over to Grant Morrison, who was just finishing with his amazing revival of Animal Man. Morrison proceeded to dump almost everything related to Kupperberg’s team and return to the original team’s psychedelic roots, only with a slick, modern, 80’s post-punk audience in mind. The team added Crazy Jane (a woman with a superpowered take on Dissociative Personality Disorder) and Dorothy Spinner (the girl with an ape face and a wild imagination) to their ranks, Larry Trainor was fully possessed by a spirit of Negative energy and became a hermaphrodite for some reason (ask Morrison), and they waged wars against such dastardly foes as imaginary cults, Jack the Ripper by way of God, and the Brotherhood of Dada. Like most comics by Grant Morrison, the intense ‘weirdness’ that oozes from its pages makes it a definite hit-or-miss, but it, along with Animal Man, Jamie Delano’s Hellblazer, Neil Gaiman’s Sandman,  Alan Moore’s pretty much everything, and a couple others I’d find worth mentioning if I could recall them, helped to redefine superheroes and mainstream comics as a potential medium for artistic expression. Who knows what comics would be like today with those pioneering writers and artists, whether superhero movies would even exist as the billion dollar media franchise that is now. The 90’s certainly wouldn’t have been as grimdark, I’m sure.

I’ve gone back and read the older runs nowadays, but as I’ve mentioned an annoyingly large amount of times, it’s the Grant Morrison run that I remember checking out from the library and reading as an impressionable youth. It’s Grant Morrison's Doom Patrol (and throw in Flex Mentallo too) that I love, and although it would probably be easier to work with the original, it’s that version that I would want to see adapted into a tv show.
I know for a fact that my ideal Doom Patrol series would never occur, because everything about it would be like money cancer for everyone attached to it. For example:
  • It has to be animated. Or rather, the only way I think of that could properly convey the bizarre nature of the show (without using exorbitant amounts of CGI in live action) would be if it was animated. A cartoon that’s not aimed at children and is not a comedy is about as common in America as ethnic minorities at Neo-Nazi rally, so that’s one strike against it.
  • It’d have to be on a channel (or digital streaming service I guess, since that’s a thing now) with a budget. HBO got into the cartoon game years ago with Spawn: The Animated Series, but I doubt they’d be interested in coming back, even in this superhero boom period. Basically I’d prefer it to be someplace that wouldn’t yank the money out from under the show and consequently fuck with the animation quality. I know it’s all about making money, but I’ve seen it enough times to know that it’s a good way to screw a show out of existence. Strike 2.
  • It would be even weirder than the original material. As much as Morrison’s take on the Doom Patrol was a divergence from what came before it and comic books in general, that’s what I would want the animated series to be. A psychedelic, surrealistic, post-modern television show, the kind you’re not sure you’re sober enough to watch. Incorporate the entire history of the comic, from the 60s to today. Incorporate live-action sequences. The Venture Bros. by way of The Maxx by way of Twin Peaks. Just get Morrison, Paul Dini and Ralph Bakshi in a room with a team of Korean animators and a couple handfuls of mescaline and see what happens. Nobody looking to make money would accept that Jodorowsky’s Dune-esque pitch, no viewer looking to fill the void in their lives that How I Met Your Mother left would take this as a replacement, so that’s strike 3. 
I’m out.

1.Transmetropolitan



I think it wasn’t until college, when my horizons were broadened by illicit substances, interesting new ideas and the ability to communicate with people on a basic level that my taste in writers started to veer directly into left field. William S. Burroughs. Kurt Vonnegut. Joseph Heller. And, for the purposes of this article, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson. I was, and still am really, intensely interested in Hunter Thompson; not just with his writing, which I find to be as witty as it is insane,but with the entire mythos that he had built up around himself over the years. For better or worse, Hunter S. Thompson is the type of writer I wanted to be, and I’ve to take the best points of his writing and adapt it into my own. I’ve utterly failed, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
Right.

Warren Ellis, author of the excellent comic series Planetary, also has a healthy respect. So much so that he took the essence of the man and his love for technology, took a snort of coke, and mixed them together to create the turn-of-the-century cyberpunk political thriller Transmetropolitan. In Trans, the good doctor is reincarnated through the wonders of artistic license as Spider Jerusalem, outlaw journalist extraordinaire, enemy of children, animals and innocent passersby and social deviant of the highest order. After threat of legal action over neglected book deal forces him away from his self-imposed exile from his mountain paradise, Spider returns to The City, a disgustingly enormous (trans)metropolis in the far-flung future (which looks like Blade Runner had a butt baby with Futurama), in order to grab enough material for some books to fulfill his contractual obligations. It’s been a long time since the people had a voice to speak for them, a long time since the people realized they needed a voice, to give them an unflinchingly accurate account of police brutality against the transspecies community, the deplorable nature of the cloning industry, the child prostitution epidemic and all the other things that we’ve left to fester in our absence.

The folks in Washington have forgotten the power of the press. Spider Jerusalem is here to remind them. #tagline

Although wikipedia states that there were originally talks about making an animated series online years ago that fell through, which would have seen Patrick Stewart of all people providing the voice of Spider Jerusalem, I think that the increased content-production nature of the internet has made a Transmetropolitan adaptation much more of a possibility than it once was. Accurately depicting The City in all its chaotic glory would doubtlessly be a huge drain on production costs, and a comic book show without a brooding guy in spandex would likely find little love, but just to see how they would translate the hyper-violence, perversion and obscenity into a new medium would be quite the experience. I originally thought they would tone it down too much, but given what they’ve gotten away with on adult swim, Metalocalypse, Superjail! and so on, maybe it isn’t all that unbelievable after all. Get on it Hollywood.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Birdman (2014), directed by Alejandro G. Inarritu



Or, The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance

     I’m going to start by apologizing for the shoddy work on this article, whether it’s apparent to anyone but me or not. Occasionally a film or book (or anything, really) can strike me in such a way as to trigger some sort of depressive response, and it serves to block any attempt by my brain to exert itself through writing. A sort of compliment to the filmmaker I suppose, that their film affected me in such a way, but it’s absolute hell when I’m trying to get some work done. So rather than abandon the article entirely and go even longer without posting something new, I’ll just present what I ended up with. Don’t worry, it’ll go the way of my Metropolis article soon enough.

     Many years ago, when the earth was young and Marvel’s Cinematic Universe was just a gleam in the eye of some rich Disney executive, Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) was the biggest superhero in the world: Birdman. No, not the lovable lawyer of Hanna-Barbera and adult swim fame, but Birdman, star of the multi-million dollar superhero film franchise that kicked off the entire multi-million dollar film franchise kick that the industry is so stuck on nowadays. If you ever wanted to know who was to blame for us getting Topher Grace as a symbiote or Halle Berry’s Catwoman, or that Jonah Hex movie you just remembered existed, then the fantastic success of Birdman is partially to blame for that Some might even say that Riggan was Birdman, in a much more visceral way than Robert Downey Jr. was Iron Man, but that’s neither here nor there.

     That was back in 1992. Nowadays, Riggan Thomson is on the tail-end of middle age, divorced and with an estranged daughter fresh out of rehab and on the payroll as a P.A. . All those millions of dollars of Hollywood money has gone into adapting Raymond Carver’s novel “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” for Broadway, an adaptation written, directed and starring Riggan Thomson. Something ‘real’ and ‘important’, Riggan thinks, a way to establish himself as a great actor outside of the feathered suit and fake muscles. When the rest of the world thinks you’re a has-been however, whether it’s your ‘serious’ co-star Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) or the twitterverse/blogosphere/facebookhole that doesn’t know you even exist outside of three movies you made 20 years ago, trying to get yourself back in the spotlight is harder than you would think. And maybe Birdman isn’t locked away in the past like Riggan would have hoped…

     The parallels between Michael Keaton, the man behind the cowl in Tim Burton’s Batman and Batman Returns and Riggan Thomson are obvious. Both men starred in films that in their respective worlds made the concept of superheroes in film into beaucoup dinero years ago, and both have slipped into obscurity since then, more or less. Riggan has shades of the classic tragic figure, a self-saboteur who bases his own self-worth on the admirations of others, and who refuses to change with a world with a shorter and shorter attention span. Yet we feel sorry for him because in his increasing sense of obsolescence we see ourselves struggling to find meaning in an increasingly brave new world. In fact, the entire film seems to revolve with this idea of the struggle for relevance, whether it be in Sam’s (Riggan’s daughter, played by Emma Stone) own reduced ego prompting the refutation of her father’s plans as pathetic, Mike Shiner’s obsessive need for ‘the truth’ on stage in contrast to his toxic social life, everyone wants to feel important but no one gives wants to give anyone a chance to do so. I can relate to that, and I’m sure many of you out there can say the same.

     Birdman is a very surreal movie. Not on the level of David Lynch, whose films operate on strict dream logic, but there does seem to be an altered sense of reality running throughout the film. Recurring drummers, guys on the street belting out Shakespeare, and of course the bit of fantasy that the film is based on: Birdman. This film loves to toy with the question of whether Riggan really did have superpowers, really was Birdman, or whether we are the witness to Riggan’s emotional breakdown. Is Riggan really lifting things with his mind, or does he just think he is? Is the voice of Birdman really speaking to him, or that just a conscience taking a schizophrenic shape, hounding him about stepping away from the fame and fortune that came from doing ‘apocalypse porn’ to try do and some serious drama? We are left to draw our own conclusions from the evidence presented, and luckily there is enough gray areas for left the question open-ended.

     I suppose I really liked this film, since the more I like something the less I’m able to write about it. Although it’s not a superhero movie, watching it reminded me of the kind of comic books I read back when I was a kid. Morrison’s run on The Doom Patrol, Moore’s Watchmen and Supreme, Scott McCloud’s Zot!, comic books that played with what superheroes were and and where the narrative could go beyond the constraints that have been placed upon it over the years. Which in my experience makes it more like a comic book movie than any superhero movie I’ve seen in a while. Hopefully as time goes, if superheroes don’t die off in favour of the next hot fad, we’ll be able to see films that move off into new and interesting directions beyond that of a 20 dollar popcorn movie, much like comic books were able to move beyond dime store entertainment for kids and move into an artform. Until that time, Birdman stands out as being one of the most unique modern films I’ve seen. I say give it a watch.


Result: Recommended

Monday, January 5, 2015

Double Feature: Manhunter (1986) and Thief (1981), directed by Michael Mann

Originally written for the Tricycle Offense





Well a new year has begun, time has moved inexorably forward another 365 days, leaving us all with another 365 to hopefully get something accomplished for once. 2014 was a bit of a bust for me, what with the job difficulties, friend difficulties, people en masse forgetting my birthday and an ongoing major depression that left me feeling increasingly disconnected with reality, but I suppose there were some good parts as well. I started writing for the Tricycle Offense last year, for example, which has granted me a larger audience than I enjoyed on my oft-neglected film blog (which caused more than its fair share of shame spirals and bitter recriminations, let me tell you). I also got to watch a lot of movies and TV shows, and that probably counts for something to someone somewhere. Also way too much Binding of Isaac, that game is cocaine-levels of addictive.


Anyway…


In honor of aforementioned new year, and all the hope that it implies, I’ve decided to go big and post another special edition of my regular column, the ToC Double Feature.  You might recall that the first Double Feature I wrote was posted in the days leading up to New Year’s Eve, and focused on two films by writer/director/playwright/musician/comedian Woody Allen. As amazing and cogent as my analysis might have been, I’ll be the first to admit that the two films I chose to write about were ones that I had on the writing backlog for a while now, and placing them on the DF was an act of ‘cleaning out the closet’, as it were. I was writing from notes and memories, and that isn’t the best way to write about anything, much less movies. So that was a test-run, and the article you’re hopefully about to read is a proper attempt at the idea. Let’s all hope it works out, okay?
This time around I’m/we’re tackling another director on the Double Feature, Chicago native Michael Mann (no relation to either Manfred Mann or his Earth Band, as far as I know). Although Mann’s film career didn’t begin until the early 80’s, his work in the entertainment industry actually began in the mid-70s, acting as a screenwriter for such television programs as Starsky & Hutch and Police Story (he would eventually reach his TV zenith in 1984 as Executive Producer for the hit crime drama Miami Vice). Aside from some notable exceptions, 2001’s Ali and 1992’s The Last of the Mohicans, a cursory glance at his filmography will tell the one thing that Michael Mann loves over any other: Crime. Whether it’s about criminals or the men who pursue them, the man has a great passion for illegal activities of various types and styles. You’d think he would have enough of crime as it is, having been born in the most corrupt, crime-ridden cities in the Union, home of Al Capone and organized crime, but to each his own. For this installment of the ToC Double Feature I decided to pick two movies, both early in his career, that I was personally interested in seeing and that which best exemplified Mann’s obsession with the wrong side of the law: 1981’s Thief and 1986’s Manhunter. Which is worth a view? Which is not? Read on and find out.



Manhunter (1986)




Anyone who has ever talked to me about TV lately (which is nobody, don’t worry), probably knows all too well about my love for Hannibal. Even though it suffers from a bit of modern television melodrama, an unfortunate side-effect of NBC trying to get in on that sweet sweet True Detective dosh, but I’ve found myself pleasantly engaged in its myriads if mindgames and gruesome murders. A lot of that love admittedly comes from their depiction of Hannibal ‘The Cannibal’ Lecter (played here by Mads Mikkelsen) who brings a quiet, demonic charm to everyone’s favorite serial killer. Hugh Dancy, Laurence Fishburne and the rest of the cast have a certain charm to them of course, but seeing Hannibal subtly manipulating everyone into following his grand design (or eating them, whatever) over the course of season 1 (I haven’t seen season 2 yet, but I bet it’s much of the same) like a mastermind badass, seeing each link fall into place, was a treat to behold. In fact, seeing how great Mikkelsen is in this series makes me wish he hadn’t been wasted as Le Chiffre in the modern adaptation of Casino Royale. It’s not that I don’t like the movie, but Le Chiffre is not what I could call a great and memorable villain. Now if Mikkelsen had gotten the role of Blofeld for instance, that would have been awesome. I’d prefer to see the guy who made a fool of dozens of people and the F.B.I. as the head of a major terrorist organization and the nemesis of the greatest spy in British history, not as a bit player who was killed off by a dropped plotline (remember Quantum? No?). That’s just the way she goes I guess.
Before Mads Mikkelsen rocked the house as Dr. Lecter on NBC, the most popular iteration of the character was portrayed by veteran actor Anthony Hopkins, who first appeared on film in the 1991 Jonathan Demme picture Silence of the Lambs. Lambs, and Hopkins’ Lecter in particular, proved to be enormously successful critically and commercially, to the point that it was able to spawn two sequels, Hannibal in 2001 and Red Dragon in 2002 (both of which were far less successful quality or money-wise as the 91 movie). What with the enormous popularity of Silence of the Lambs, the common assumption might be that it was the natural reaction of a film audience to a new IP, but that assumption would be incorrect. Not only that, but the prequel Red Dragon was also not the first film to be based on Thomas Harris’ 1981 book “Red Dragon”, which the Hannibal series is also based on. No, the first feature film to be based on the work of Thomas Harris appeared 5 years before Clarice, Anthony Hopkins, and Silence of the Lambs, which itself is based on the sequel to “Red Dragon”. It’s an oft-forgotten gem by the name of Manhunter, directed by Michael Mann, and there ain’t no J’onn J’onzz where we’re heading.
Sometime in the slick, modern 1980s two families, the Leeds and the Jacobis, are found brutally murdered and mutilated in their homes in Birmingham, Alabama and Atlanta, Georgia respectively. Due to the graphic nature of the murders as well as the lack of any noticeable leads, FBI agent Jack Crawford decides to call on Will Graham (William Petersen, of CSI fame), a former agent who had worked with Jack some years prior, to join in on the case. Three years ago Will Graham had been instrumental in bringing serial killers Garrett Jacob Hobbs (the so called ‘Minnesota Shrike’ in the tv series) and Dr. Hannibal Lecter (or Lektor according to this movie) to justice, but his deductive process -- placing himself within the mindset of the killer in order to discover his identity, had left him with far too many scars, physical and emotional. This would seem to be a major liability, bringing in someone who was clearly unstable in as lead investigator in a major case, especially when said person was traumatized by a serial killer and the case revolves around a serial killer, but of course this a movie AND WE NEED RESULTS DAMMIT!
Emotional trauma aside, we all love the idea of having ‘one last ride’, and so decides to take up Jack on his offer. However, in his investigation of the newly dubbed ‘Tooth Fairy’, so named because of the bite marks he left at the crime scene, Will quickly starts to recall the darkness that had infected his soul those three years ago, the soul-sickness that comes from envisioning the mind of madness. Throw in the devious machinations of Dr. Lecter, and it becomes all too clear that Will has stepped in on a case far larger than he anticipated. Quite soon it becomes clear that it’s no longer about the mutilated corpses of wives and mothers anymore (although that’s important too I guess), it’s about closing the book on Will’s past once and for all. Putting the demons, or red dragons perhaps, to rest. It’s not easy, but then nothing ever is.
The first and biggest questions likely to form in the curious reader’s mind about Manhunter are going to be about Hannibal Lecter, and I suppose it’s a bit of a hit-or-miss situation. First of all, Dr. Lektor in this film is played by Brian Cox, whom you might know from Deadwood, Super Troopers and Scooby Doo and the Samurai Sword. While his performance is not turned-up-to-11 insane as Hopkins or silently malevolent as Mikkelsen’s, his rendition of the criminally insane psychologist who cuts up college coeds is quite good. Second of all, while he does serve much the same purpose as he did in Silence of the Lambs, giving cryptic advice while playing mind games with the investigator, he plays a much smaller role in Manhunter, amounting to not much more than a fairly important secondary character. Since so much of this franchise is about Lecter or is focused on Lecter, it’s refreshing to see a take that places him on the back burner and allow us to look upon the other characters more, like Graham and the Tooth Fairy. On the other hand, Hannibal Lecter has been given so much focus because he’s an intriguing character, and his entry into pop culture allows him to be used in many different ways. Even in his reduced capacity Lecter still manages to be the most captivating man in the room whenever he’s on the screen. Especially when placed against Will Petersen’s Will Graham, who seems absolutely on the nod when set against Hugh Dancy’s positively neurotic depiction of the character. Like I said, hit-or-miss.
Which is probably the big point I could raise against Manhunter actually: the characterization. Aside from Lecter and the Tooth Fairy, there’s not much in the way of compelling characters. Graham has the potential to be be compelling of course, and I suppose it does build up throughout the film, but that’s more in the details rather than the character himself. We know he’s been traumatized by the events of the past, we know he needs to frequently take medication to curb whatever injuries he sustained during that time, but we don’t really get a sense that he, Will Graham, is really on the edge until he suddenly flips a reporter into a car window or something. Once again, maybe I’m being unduly influenced by Hannibal but there’s nothing that sets Graham apart in the film from any other agent in the movie aside from the fact that the camera is aimed at his face most of the time. Maybe that makes it more realistic, but to me it says that Manhunter lacks a strong protagonist.
To counter a negative point with a positive one, although Graham never really stands out to me, the movie around Graham was quite interesting. To reuse a descriptor previously to Petersen’s performance, it’s very toned down. There’s not really much of those high-tension, high action moments so prevalent in its contemporaries (although that climactic final showdown is fucking badass), we start off with a mystery and we gradually build up to its conclusion. I guess you could call it a ‘slow burn’ kind of movie, and while I’ll refrain from calling it ‘realistic’, it does a good job of drawing you into its world without working too hard. Manhunter is great at giving the illusion of reality, I suppose is the best way to put it, far better than any version of “Red Dragon” or the Lecter-verse afterwards, which seemed to make murder into an art project. Sure, I doubt many serial killers are taking blind chicks to go pet tigers, but I bet even less are feeding people parts of their own brain or making totem poles out of human corpses. The Tooth Fairy (or maybe Red Dragon might be more appropriate) seems like the kind of killer who could exist in real life, and that’s what makes him effectively threatening.
Aside from that, Mann really seems to love color, because he paints entire damn scenes in it, and I found myself enjoying it as well. Blue for Will Graham, Green for the killer (even  though you’d expect it to be red, considering how much he talks about the Red Dragon and all), the blinding white of Lecter’s cell, it’s all magnificently evocative. The soundtrack is also quite good, packed as it is with synth-tastic 80s music, including a masterful use of Iron Butterfly’s one hit wonder ‘In-a-Gadda-da-Vida’. The two-hour does seem a bit trying at times, especially when it’s taken up with Petersen trying his hardest not to emote, but that’s part and parcel of what makes the ‘slow-burn’ method work. You need time to let that bastard get to a boil.
If you’re a fan of thrillers and other such crime dramas, as I and millions of other people are, you’ll likely enjoy Manhunter. If you’re just getting into the franchise from the TV series, be advised that although both Hannibal and Manhunter are based on the novel “Red Dragon”, Manhunter is more an adaptation of Harris’s work while the series appropriates characters and events to weave its own unique narrative, and so holds little in the way of similarities. If you’re just a fan of movies in general, give it a watch, because it’s a pretty good one. This winter, you will believe that a mentally ill man can break into your house and cut your children’s throats while you’re sleeping.


RESULT: RECOMMENDED






Thief (1981)



I don’t know how it is in your other, less American countries, but we here in the good ol’ US of A we absolutely love our thieves and murderers. Can’t get enough of ‘em, in fact. Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, John Dillinger, the Zodiac Killer, Bonnie & Clyde, Billy the Kid, the GOP, all on the wrong side of the law and yet still a fire for them all still burns in the hearts of many people. Nowadays of course most mass murderers are just disaffected high-school students and the thieves run multinational corporations, so the majority of our killing and stealing fix comes from the media that we consume, whether it be music, movies, comic books, what have you. I suppose they represent independence on a subconscious level y’know, people who freed themselves from the shackles of society that ensnare the rest of us with its rules and regulations and did as they pleased when they desired. Or maybe it’s the end result of a nation founded by religious wingnuts who think women are roombas with breasts attached to them and that beating men to death is the best way to keep them from having favourable opinions about penises. Hard to say really, it’s a multifaceted issue and I’m no sociology major.


Stepping down off the soapbox for a minute...


At some unknown point of time in the sleek, modern Chicago of the 1980’s, ex-con Frank (James Caan, of The Godfather, Misery) has built up quite the life for himself. He’s a business owner after all, the head of an automotive dealership and a bar called The Green Mile, which caters to a decent collection of alcoholics. He’s also a thief, by the by, specializing in the art of the diamond heist. Along with his partner Barry (Jim Belushi), who works with security, there is no vault that can’t be opened, no treasure that can’t be pinched, etc. etc. etc. When it comes to crime Frank is as business-minded in the office as he is during the act; He steals the goods, he passes it along through his vig, he gets his cut of the profits and he goes along his merry way. No muss,no fuss, a perfect equitable transaction of stolen goods.
Even a life of crime has its disadvantages though.As good a thief as Frank is however, what he truly desires above all else is the thing he’s never been able to have: A normal life. A house, a wife and kids, without the chance to end up stuck in jail again like his good friend Okla (Willie Nelson, and yes, that Willie Nelson). After a diamond deal gone south brings Frank to the attention of Attaglia, the biggest fence in Chicago, the  gangster offers Frank exactly what he’s been hoping and dreaming for all this time, all for the low low price of pulling off the biggest theft in his entire career. The man has a future to think about, he can’t say no, but how well can a man who only works for himself coexist with a system built around kissing ass and paying respect? Not very, as it turns out.
In Manhunter our perspective was that of Will Graham and the F.B.I., the right side of the law, going after the Tooth Fairy, the obvious villain. In Thief our perspective is that of Frank the criminal, who must contend with police and organized crime. Opposite sides of the coin you might say, but I’ll say it’s worth noting that in both films the acts these characters (Frank & the Tooth Fairy) carry out are never treated as anything but ultimately negative. Even here in Thief, where Frank feels no remorse for the things he does and the police are are group of dirty thugs out looking for a cut of the action, the act of theft is treated as a means to an end, and an ultimately self-destructive end. While both glamorize theft and murder to an extent, much as I said in Manhunter, Michael Mann succeeds in presenting a realistic (also to an extent) take on a the subject. The Tooth Fairy is a murderer but he’s also clearly mentally ill, Frank loves his friends and family but he’s also an aggressive jackass who steals and kills on purely selfish basis, moral ambiguity is the name of the game. It’s like film noir but with less lovable drunk detectives.
Michael Mann’s debut film is also where we see his love for hanging shots and pouring color into scenes, one of which I mentioned in Manhunter. There’s one scene in particular in which the camera lingers for a while on Frank standing in front of the bank vault, which itself is inside a strangely symmetrical white room that sticks in my mind, and apparently Mann managed to recycle the exact same shade of green from The Green Mile to use in the Tooth Fairy’s house. It’s not like Thief doubles down on the color, since this was the 80’s and neon flowed through the streets like wine, it’s that Mann manages to use color where it really stands out. And you guys know how much I fucking love color.
Music wise, there are no epic final scenes set to the music of Iron Butterfly, but rest assured the tunes in Thief are as synth-tastic as they are in Manhunter. Interestingly enough, the film’s score/soundtrack is actually composed by one band, ambient group Tangerine Dream. I’m not an especially huge fan of ambient music, and I don’t know if the tone of the music necessarily fits the action presented on the screen, but I found myself enjoying it as a whole. Reminds me a lot of Goblin, who scored several films by Dario Argento, so if you like the music in his films you’ll probably like it here.
If you’re a fan of thrillers, diamonds and bloody vengeance, then I think you’ll probably like Thief. Out of the two chosen films, even though I’m recommending both of them, I think I’ll recommend Thief overall. No Dr. Lektor, but I think it runs a bit smoother than Manhunter and I found Frank, if not a more likable character than Graham, at least more interesting a protagonist. Of course you’re better off just seeing both, since they’re both great movies and all. If one day you happen to have a film-obsessed maniac holding a gun to your head and forcing you to choose one though, be sure to remember some article I wrote on the internet that one time.
It could save your life.

RESULT: RECOMMENDED

A Brief Return

       If anyone regularly reads this blog, I'm sorry that I dropped off the face of the Earth there with no warning. Hadn't planned...