[Guest Blogger Jason Powell continues his issue by issue look at Chris Claremont’s X-Men run. For more in this series, see the toolbar on the right.]
“What Was That?”
Thanks to the free flow of ideas and threads moving back and forth between Uncanny X-Men and New Mutants – not to mention Jim Shooter’s compulsive need to dip his pen into the ink, giving the X-Men and Magneto key roles in his action-figure-tie-in-turned-vanity-project Secret Wars – it’s probably hard to track the evolution of Magneto if one is only reading Uncanny and nothing else. He shows up in Uncanny #196 as the friend of Charles Xavier and lover of Lee Forrester with a distinct lack of explanation. Here’s how it got to that point [deep breath] ...
After Magneto becoming repentant at the end of Uncanny #150, he next appeared in the quasi-canonical X-Men graphic novel “God Loves, Man Kills,” which showed him working with the X-Men against an anti-mutant bigot. He next appeared in Jim Shooter’s first Secret Wars series -- a simple-minded comic book in which heroes fight villains for twelve issues for the edification of a cosmic, all-powerful being called The Beyonder. In Secret Wars, Magneto works on the X-Men’s side once again, at Xavier’s behest.
Magneto’s chronology then picks up in an ongoing New Mutants subplot that for a long time does not intersect that series’ main narrative. Crashing into the ocean after the destruction of Asteroid M, he is rescued by Cyclops’ ex-girlfriend Lee Forrester, and the two return to his base in the Bermuda Triangle. Magneto’s past with Magda is alluded to – we are given the impression that perhaps Lee reminds him a bit of how much he misses certain more human luxuries: friends, lovers, etc. He and Lee become both the former and the latter over the course of a few months, at which point Magneto is contacted by Professor X. Weaker than ever since his mugging, Charles sends Magneto to gather both the X-Men and the New Mutants to help Captain America against the Beyonder. The storyline crosses over into the first issue of the depressingly bad Secret Wars II, which sees Magneto once again working with the X-Men.
That brings us, finally, to Uncanny #196. At this point, we’re only four months away from Claremont’s most severe status-quo change yet, wherein Xavier departs the series entirely and Magneto takes his place as an X-Man and as the New Mutants’ new teacher. Surprising as the move is, there is a narrative precedent, and Claremont even reminds us of it here: Rachel points out to Rogue midway through the issue that in the “Days of Future Past” dystopia, Magneto was an ally of the X-Men. Recall that Byrne even drew the character in a wheelchair for that story, making his status as a replacement-Xavier quite clear.
A scene between Magneto and Rachel was inevitable. Granted, when “Days of Future Past” was originally published, it’s unlikely that Claremont knew then that Magneto’s presence in the concentration camp would be thematically prescient. His new back-story for Magneto wasn’t conceived until Cockrum replaced Byrne as artist on the series. The serendipitous resonance that resulted, however, in the decision to make Magneto a Holocaust survivor certainly can’t be ignored now. When Rachel goes mad in the face of pure hate and bigotry, only to be talked down by the newly rehabilitated Magneto, there is a fascinating psychological parallelism at work. Essentially, both characters have the same origin: Having endured death camps in their youth, each is inclined toward extremism to prevent another Holocaust. When Claremont depicts Rachel’s fit of rage toward the end of “What Was That?”, the reader is invited to consider that Magneto must have had a moment like this too, prior to becoming a villain. (Later, Claremont would show us that exact scene, in the brilliant “Fire in the Night” from Classic X-Men #12.)
Since Magneto’s origin is tied to a real historical tragedy and Rachel’s to a fictional one, the latter character cannot possibly bear the same sense of psychological weight. On a meta-narrative level, Magneto’s maturity and wisdom in the face of Rachel’s naivety parallels the fact that a superhero comic book can never fully bear the weight of reality.
True, the allusions to the Holocaust that occur in X-Men can and do give a sense of gravitas to the storyline; Claremont’s Magneto emerges as the author’s single most psychologically complex creation. But for all that, it is still just a comic book. It can never pretend, with its four-color fictions, to speak to the realities of racism, hatred and bigotry as experienced by actual victims and survivors.
This is why “God Loves, Man Kills” – with its audacious and awkward use of the word “nigger” to somehow prove the hurtfulness of the imagined epithet “mutie” – is such a failure. Ironically, issue 196 once again features Kitty throwing the “N word” in a black person’s face. It’s fascinating that this inflammatory slur appears for the first time in an X-Men story since “God Loves, Man Kills” in the exact same issue that contains a metatextual acknowledgement of the Uncanny X-Men series’ limitations in speaking to racial experience. This is perhaps Claremont’s tacit acknowledgement that “God Loves, Man Kills” was a wrong-headed and immature work.
It’s also significant that it is Kitty who keeps slinging the offensive word around. She’s the youngest member of the team (Claremont makes a point of reminding us she’s 15 one page after she uses the epithet), and therefore the least likely to recognize the full implications of using such loaded language, even in an ironic context that attempts to make an unsubtle point about how “words like that” can be “hurtful.”
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Day Flight: Rome to New York: Mama Mia and, ugh, Speed Racer.
by Sara
Ok, both these movies were really really bad. I mean, I thought Sex and Stereotyping in the City was bad. That ain't got nothing on what I sat through on the flight home. Which was actually smooth and pleasantand I actually had a very tasty lunch and was feeling quite happy. That feeling was later crapped all over by the Wachowski Bros (those loveable scamps). Anyway.
Mama Mia - I start with this movie because I am not sure I am going to watch anything else at this point but need to watch something and, y'know, my mom liked it. Also, I LOOOOOVE me some ABBA. I do. I can't deny it. You can't hate something that fun. You can't. You can't stop your feet tapping or yourself from singing along, especially to Dancing Queen, I DEFY you to try. So yes, every time they broke into song - which was approximately every 15 - 20 seconds - I did find myself kind of smiling. Except for when they sang the two or three songs I was unfamiliar with. I think one was actually written by the ABBA fellas for the movie (or bway show). Those songs weren't any good anyway...
Honestly, this movie is not even really what I'd call a "movie." It's the "most serious and important actress in the world," Meryl
Streep, hanging out in Greece with some not-as-famous-nor-as-good-actors, all singing ABBA songs, looking like they are a bit drunk, and having a blast. This movie was made for moms and grandmothers and it succeeds. The plot (there's a plot. there really shouldn't be. they should just walk around this island and then occasionally break out in to ABBA song and dance numbers, it would've been better...) is convoluted and sometimes I think they forgot it all together, then kind of remembered, then forgot again. Former James Bond Pierce Brosnan I THINK was trying to do an American Accent. I think. it was hard to tell. He wasn't using his regular accent, well, not the whole time. And in the beginning I think we were told he's American. But, Bond is def not 'Merican and it shows. Also, he can't sing. he SHOULDN'T sing, actually, but he did sing which was unfortunate. Solos even. And if that wasn't him that was singing, whomever they dubbed in also shouldn't sing. As for good bits other than the music, I will cop to thinking it was hilarious seeing a doughy, half naked Colin Firth proclaim to be gay and grab a super euro trash Greek boy up in an "embrace." Also, seeing him, Bond, and that guy from the pirate movies and The Glass House... whashisface...AH stellan skaaaaaaarsgaaaaaaaaaaard, in spangly tight unitards with big-ass flared bottoms and platform shoes at the end of the movie. They do a bit at the end with just the leads where they are all on some stage in ridiculous 70's jumpsuits and they sing and dance to two ABBA numbers. But, I mean THAT is what a movie about ABBA music should be. Why weren't they dressed like that the whole time??? End notes: I hated that I couldn't sing along to this movie. The rest really was unmemorable, except the location. Note-to-self: go to Greece, also, remember to rip my copy of ABBA Gold to my ipod when I get home.
Up Next: The Most Awful Movie Of All Time; AKA -- Speed Racer
Firstly: I don't care if you liked the Matrix sequels. They were awful, you are wrong and you can tell me all the reasons why I am wrong til you're blue in the face but you'd still be wrong and I am right. They sucked. The Wachowskis proved they can't really make movies, and that the first Matrix was some sort of random fluke. Those movies also proved that they think they are really smart and deep and philosophical and shit. What is funny is that they are the opposite. Ok, so we're on the same page, those last two Matrix movies were horse crap. You know what's kind of worse? Speed Racer. This. Movie. Was. TERRIBLE. Like, I knew it was going to be terrible going in, but I was without choices and also I was kind of curious. I had read the reviews, I had listened to my friend who saw it on shrooms and who swore to me that itwas really a fantastic movie but you had to be tripping your ass off first. I can tell you that a) why would you need or want chemical alteration to watch this? If I had been tripping than I think what I would have experienced would be an awful movie without bells and whistles and shiny psychedelic colors to distract me. Cos they would cancel each other out. Where's the fun in that? and b) this movie was just like a cataclysm of bad. I have no problems with shiny colors. Yes, they gave me a headache in this instance, but y'know, the acting was just so dismal (side note: why did they hire a crash test dummy for the romantic lead? was a 2x4 unavailable?). I have been on a hate-fest with Christina Ricci ever since she lost way too much weight, and stopped starring in things like the Ice Storm and Buffalo 66 and started, well, starring in suckage. Here she barely registers as a living breathing person. She's sort of a cardboard cut out that is stuck into most every scene, sort of like a "find the Ricci" game. She occasionally said stuff, which really she shouldn't have, cos actually speaking was more detrimental than just standing there staring vacantly. This movie wasn't really about "girl power" if y'know what I mean. But anyway, it was clear that she wasn't really important. So we'll just move on. Kind of cute haircut tho, and it makes me long for short hair again.
Oh, poor Dan from Roseanne. Remember how awesome he was in the Big Lebowski? and pretty much every Coen bros movie they put him in? DanDanDan. Not every writer-director duo who are brothers are the Coen brothers. I know it's hard to keep straight. (Side Note: Also, keep in mind you might also want to avoid working with the Farrelly bros as well.) Yes this is tricky. Yes, there are too many writer-director brother teams in Hollywood. But, I think you can do it. I met you once and you were kind of scary but also very funny and very nice. You have a daughter whom you love. If you really really do love her, you wouldn't have done this to her so please promise me, and her, you won't ever be in a movie like this again. If she ever asks you why you starred in this horrible movie, tell her the truth. You owed some guys some money and it was either be in Speed Racer or have your fingers broken.
Susan Sarandon - wtf. no, dude. wtf? were you bored? did you accidentally wander on to the set and they just filmed it? maybe you were high. or perhaps it was a lost bet with your boyfriend Tim Robbins over something very very political and liberal-minded. or perhaps it's all three. Or, perhaps the Wachowskis, those loveable scamps, promised you another Rocky Horror. They lied to you. LIED! I know you don't always star in like the best movies. There was that one where you were an age-ed rock groupie with Goldie "one day my lips will eat my face" Hawn. My mom liked it and you guys are kind of the same age so I get that you occasionally want to make a nod toward your contemporaries who, in their later years have lost their taste. Fine. But this? Unforgivable. You will have to find some way to make it up to me. Perhaps Obama can help you retool your image with a position in his administration. That would help.
ok. Here's an interesting thing: Jack from LOST is TOTES Racer X. I'd know that "gruff but supposed to be also tender, strong and commanding yet slightly vulnerable" voice anywhere. Also that nose. I hate Jack on LOST. Guess what? Hate him here too. I know, there is SO MUCH to hate about this movie. But he gets to be singled out. I don't even hate Ricci or the crash test dummy (imdb tells me his real name is Emile Hirsch. Weird name for a crash test dummy) as much as him. Ugh, even more when he takes off the mask. Can you please STOP it with the bug-eyed thing? Ben is supposed to be bug-eyed and creepy on LOST. We love it. You are supposed to be our hero but all you do is stare bug-eyed in anger or stare bug-eyed supposedly with "love" for kate. Blecch. you are icky. stop being icky. It's even worse when you smile. when you smile it always looks like you're faking it. I have decided that you are a psychopath. I have no sympathy for you, even when you are beardy and addicted to pills and alcohol. so, hah!
the rest of this movie: ok, so there's an annoying way overly precocious little kid who mugs it up so hard i'm afraid he's going to break something. But, I am used to kids like this, they are all over my TV. I know the monkey is there cos it was in the cartoon but honestly, with all the rest goin' on they could've losed the monkey. He was only there for the one scene where he threw his poo (I guess I have to commend the Wachowskis for their restraint. They had a monkey on set the whole time and only shot ONE monkey-throws-his-poo scene?). There are many many seizure-inducing shiny things. And gravity apparently doesn't exist when you drive a car in this world. People have really dumbass names. Occasionally throughout this thing the movie goes "anime." But not in the cool way that Tarrantino did, but in a random, half animated/half live action wha? kind of way. Those scenes contribute greatly to inducing headaches and seizures. The cars are a shiny and brighter and smoother than candy. Y'know, that might be a positive. I like things like that. However, sometimes they show battle damage and sometimes they don't. Whatever, thinking about this film is tiring...I know that fat, creepy villain from somewhere. (IMDB: Roger Allam). I like him, he's overacting and chewing scenery, good. someone should be having fun. everyone else is sort of zonked out. crash test dummy hot lead Hirsch or whatever is having trouble "emoting" which kind of fun to watch at first but I'm getting impatient. This movie is also over long. I shouldn't need more than 72 minutes of this and yet I'm given 135.
Ok, Here's its major (alright, not the only major but I'm tiring out here) downfall - there is like a totes important, totes relevant MESSAGE!!! -- would it be a Wachowski movie if there wasn't some sort of overt MESSAGE? no. no it would not -- so get this, turns out corporations are like bad and stuff. Rich people and CEOs and junk think that cos they have money that they can like, y'know, break rules and rig sports and keep making money and no one will say anything. but that's like SO WRONG! If you really really really believe and can like, um, drive a car really really well (which is far as I can tell means having a semi-sexual relationship with your car, which you've given a gender, pushing your foot down extra hard on the gas pedal occasionally and pushing a button) YOU WILL TOTES PROVE THEM WRONG!!! cos, like, you have heart and heart beats money in rock- paper scissor- money-heart game all the time! YEAH! If only the crash test dummy could've mustered that much enthusiasm...
(random semi-related fact: NASCAR came out of bootlegging. Bootleggers in the south and in Appalachia rigged their cars to go faster and outrun the cops so they wouldn't get caught haulin' booze. Then they started drag racing each other. Then they started racing with rules. And tada - Nascar. it's totally true.)
I hated this movie. I was relieved when it was over. There was a "TWIST ENDING." Racer X is actually speed's disgraced brother (the movie was never terribly clear about why speed's brother (speedier? stickshift? I forget brother of speed racer's name, sorry.) was disgraced in the world of racing. The movie tells us that he apparently crashed a lot. Or made other people crash which was bad. Or rather, when he did it was bad cos I saw lots of people crashing and doing stuff but Speed didn't get in trouble. Ok, he did once but I really honestly could not follow this movie. It somehow had the paradoxical effect of feeling ADD-addled and unfocused, jumping quickly from scene to scene, while also being extremely draggy and taking a long time to get anywhere. Maybe the Wachowskis have special physics-bending directing powers. ANYHOODLE. so speedy there, his brother turns out to be Racer X, right? 'cept Racer X is revealed to be Jack from LOST and jack doesn't look like the brother. Guess what? Turns out, speed's brother (can't remember the brother's official name. stickshift? exhaust pipe:?) had the same surgery that nic cage and john travolta did in Face Off. Except with Jack from LOST's face. But he ends up not telling his family for...reasons...uknown to us all... so boring. so don't care. wever. This is the THIRD time the Watchowski's have wasted my time. I would ask for it and my money back except y'know, I can't. My head is throbbing at this point and so I actually have to switch off the screen and take two advil. I end up dozing a bit from boredom until some sort of breakfasty snack type thing is served. This time my food isn't good. Insult to injury!!!!
Ok, both these movies were really really bad. I mean, I thought Sex and Stereotyping in the City was bad. That ain't got nothing on what I sat through on the flight home. Which was actually smooth and pleasantand I actually had a very tasty lunch and was feeling quite happy. That feeling was later crapped all over by the Wachowski Bros (those loveable scamps). Anyway.
Mama Mia - I start with this movie because I am not sure I am going to watch anything else at this point but need to watch something and, y'know, my mom liked it. Also, I LOOOOOVE me some ABBA. I do. I can't deny it. You can't hate something that fun. You can't. You can't stop your feet tapping or yourself from singing along, especially to Dancing Queen, I DEFY you to try. So yes, every time they broke into song - which was approximately every 15 - 20 seconds - I did find myself kind of smiling. Except for when they sang the two or three songs I was unfamiliar with. I think one was actually written by the ABBA fellas for the movie (or bway show). Those songs weren't any good anyway...
Honestly, this movie is not even really what I'd call a "movie." It's the "most serious and important actress in the world," Meryl
Streep, hanging out in Greece with some not-as-famous-nor-as-good-actors, all singing ABBA songs, looking like they are a bit drunk, and having a blast. This movie was made for moms and grandmothers and it succeeds. The plot (there's a plot. there really shouldn't be. they should just walk around this island and then occasionally break out in to ABBA song and dance numbers, it would've been better...) is convoluted and sometimes I think they forgot it all together, then kind of remembered, then forgot again. Former James Bond Pierce Brosnan I THINK was trying to do an American Accent. I think. it was hard to tell. He wasn't using his regular accent, well, not the whole time. And in the beginning I think we were told he's American. But, Bond is def not 'Merican and it shows. Also, he can't sing. he SHOULDN'T sing, actually, but he did sing which was unfortunate. Solos even. And if that wasn't him that was singing, whomever they dubbed in also shouldn't sing. As for good bits other than the music, I will cop to thinking it was hilarious seeing a doughy, half naked Colin Firth proclaim to be gay and grab a super euro trash Greek boy up in an "embrace." Also, seeing him, Bond, and that guy from the pirate movies and The Glass House... whashisface...AH stellan skaaaaaaarsgaaaaaaaaaaard, in spangly tight unitards with big-ass flared bottoms and platform shoes at the end of the movie. They do a bit at the end with just the leads where they are all on some stage in ridiculous 70's jumpsuits and they sing and dance to two ABBA numbers. But, I mean THAT is what a movie about ABBA music should be. Why weren't they dressed like that the whole time??? End notes: I hated that I couldn't sing along to this movie. The rest really was unmemorable, except the location. Note-to-self: go to Greece, also, remember to rip my copy of ABBA Gold to my ipod when I get home.
Up Next: The Most Awful Movie Of All Time; AKA -- Speed Racer
Firstly: I don't care if you liked the Matrix sequels. They were awful, you are wrong and you can tell me all the reasons why I am wrong til you're blue in the face but you'd still be wrong and I am right. They sucked. The Wachowskis proved they can't really make movies, and that the first Matrix was some sort of random fluke. Those movies also proved that they think they are really smart and deep and philosophical and shit. What is funny is that they are the opposite. Ok, so we're on the same page, those last two Matrix movies were horse crap. You know what's kind of worse? Speed Racer. This. Movie. Was. TERRIBLE. Like, I knew it was going to be terrible going in, but I was without choices and also I was kind of curious. I had read the reviews, I had listened to my friend who saw it on shrooms and who swore to me that itwas really a fantastic movie but you had to be tripping your ass off first. I can tell you that a) why would you need or want chemical alteration to watch this? If I had been tripping than I think what I would have experienced would be an awful movie without bells and whistles and shiny psychedelic colors to distract me. Cos they would cancel each other out. Where's the fun in that? and b) this movie was just like a cataclysm of bad. I have no problems with shiny colors. Yes, they gave me a headache in this instance, but y'know, the acting was just so dismal (side note: why did they hire a crash test dummy for the romantic lead? was a 2x4 unavailable?). I have been on a hate-fest with Christina Ricci ever since she lost way too much weight, and stopped starring in things like the Ice Storm and Buffalo 66 and started, well, starring in suckage. Here she barely registers as a living breathing person. She's sort of a cardboard cut out that is stuck into most every scene, sort of like a "find the Ricci" game. She occasionally said stuff, which really she shouldn't have, cos actually speaking was more detrimental than just standing there staring vacantly. This movie wasn't really about "girl power" if y'know what I mean. But anyway, it was clear that she wasn't really important. So we'll just move on. Kind of cute haircut tho, and it makes me long for short hair again.
Oh, poor Dan from Roseanne. Remember how awesome he was in the Big Lebowski? and pretty much every Coen bros movie they put him in? DanDanDan. Not every writer-director duo who are brothers are the Coen brothers. I know it's hard to keep straight. (Side Note: Also, keep in mind you might also want to avoid working with the Farrelly bros as well.) Yes this is tricky. Yes, there are too many writer-director brother teams in Hollywood. But, I think you can do it. I met you once and you were kind of scary but also very funny and very nice. You have a daughter whom you love. If you really really do love her, you wouldn't have done this to her so please promise me, and her, you won't ever be in a movie like this again. If she ever asks you why you starred in this horrible movie, tell her the truth. You owed some guys some money and it was either be in Speed Racer or have your fingers broken.
Susan Sarandon - wtf. no, dude. wtf? were you bored? did you accidentally wander on to the set and they just filmed it? maybe you were high. or perhaps it was a lost bet with your boyfriend Tim Robbins over something very very political and liberal-minded. or perhaps it's all three. Or, perhaps the Wachowskis, those loveable scamps, promised you another Rocky Horror. They lied to you. LIED! I know you don't always star in like the best movies. There was that one where you were an age-ed rock groupie with Goldie "one day my lips will eat my face" Hawn. My mom liked it and you guys are kind of the same age so I get that you occasionally want to make a nod toward your contemporaries who, in their later years have lost their taste. Fine. But this? Unforgivable. You will have to find some way to make it up to me. Perhaps Obama can help you retool your image with a position in his administration. That would help.
ok. Here's an interesting thing: Jack from LOST is TOTES Racer X. I'd know that "gruff but supposed to be also tender, strong and commanding yet slightly vulnerable" voice anywhere. Also that nose. I hate Jack on LOST. Guess what? Hate him here too. I know, there is SO MUCH to hate about this movie. But he gets to be singled out. I don't even hate Ricci or the crash test dummy (imdb tells me his real name is Emile Hirsch. Weird name for a crash test dummy) as much as him. Ugh, even more when he takes off the mask. Can you please STOP it with the bug-eyed thing? Ben is supposed to be bug-eyed and creepy on LOST. We love it. You are supposed to be our hero but all you do is stare bug-eyed in anger or stare bug-eyed supposedly with "love" for kate. Blecch. you are icky. stop being icky. It's even worse when you smile. when you smile it always looks like you're faking it. I have decided that you are a psychopath. I have no sympathy for you, even when you are beardy and addicted to pills and alcohol. so, hah!
the rest of this movie: ok, so there's an annoying way overly precocious little kid who mugs it up so hard i'm afraid he's going to break something. But, I am used to kids like this, they are all over my TV. I know the monkey is there cos it was in the cartoon but honestly, with all the rest goin' on they could've losed the monkey. He was only there for the one scene where he threw his poo (I guess I have to commend the Wachowskis for their restraint. They had a monkey on set the whole time and only shot ONE monkey-throws-his-poo scene?). There are many many seizure-inducing shiny things. And gravity apparently doesn't exist when you drive a car in this world. People have really dumbass names. Occasionally throughout this thing the movie goes "anime." But not in the cool way that Tarrantino did, but in a random, half animated/half live action wha? kind of way. Those scenes contribute greatly to inducing headaches and seizures. The cars are a shiny and brighter and smoother than candy. Y'know, that might be a positive. I like things like that. However, sometimes they show battle damage and sometimes they don't. Whatever, thinking about this film is tiring...I know that fat, creepy villain from somewhere. (IMDB: Roger Allam). I like him, he's overacting and chewing scenery, good. someone should be having fun. everyone else is sort of zonked out. crash test dummy hot lead Hirsch or whatever is having trouble "emoting" which kind of fun to watch at first but I'm getting impatient. This movie is also over long. I shouldn't need more than 72 minutes of this and yet I'm given 135.
Ok, Here's its major (alright, not the only major but I'm tiring out here) downfall - there is like a totes important, totes relevant MESSAGE!!! -- would it be a Wachowski movie if there wasn't some sort of overt MESSAGE? no. no it would not -- so get this, turns out corporations are like bad and stuff. Rich people and CEOs and junk think that cos they have money that they can like, y'know, break rules and rig sports and keep making money and no one will say anything. but that's like SO WRONG! If you really really really believe and can like, um, drive a car really really well (which is far as I can tell means having a semi-sexual relationship with your car, which you've given a gender, pushing your foot down extra hard on the gas pedal occasionally and pushing a button) YOU WILL TOTES PROVE THEM WRONG!!! cos, like, you have heart and heart beats money in rock- paper scissor- money-heart game all the time! YEAH! If only the crash test dummy could've mustered that much enthusiasm...
(random semi-related fact: NASCAR came out of bootlegging. Bootleggers in the south and in Appalachia rigged their cars to go faster and outrun the cops so they wouldn't get caught haulin' booze. Then they started drag racing each other. Then they started racing with rules. And tada - Nascar. it's totally true.)
I hated this movie. I was relieved when it was over. There was a "TWIST ENDING." Racer X is actually speed's disgraced brother (the movie was never terribly clear about why speed's brother (speedier? stickshift? I forget brother of speed racer's name, sorry.) was disgraced in the world of racing. The movie tells us that he apparently crashed a lot. Or made other people crash which was bad. Or rather, when he did it was bad cos I saw lots of people crashing and doing stuff but Speed didn't get in trouble. Ok, he did once but I really honestly could not follow this movie. It somehow had the paradoxical effect of feeling ADD-addled and unfocused, jumping quickly from scene to scene, while also being extremely draggy and taking a long time to get anywhere. Maybe the Wachowskis have special physics-bending directing powers. ANYHOODLE. so speedy there, his brother turns out to be Racer X, right? 'cept Racer X is revealed to be Jack from LOST and jack doesn't look like the brother. Guess what? Turns out, speed's brother (can't remember the brother's official name. stickshift? exhaust pipe:?) had the same surgery that nic cage and john travolta did in Face Off. Except with Jack from LOST's face. But he ends up not telling his family for...reasons...uknown to us all... so boring. so don't care. wever. This is the THIRD time the Watchowski's have wasted my time. I would ask for it and my money back except y'know, I can't. My head is throbbing at this point and so I actually have to switch off the screen and take two advil. I end up dozing a bit from boredom until some sort of breakfasty snack type thing is served. This time my food isn't good. Insult to injury!!!!
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WRITING FOR THIS BLOG. If I see a big free form comment that deserves more attention, I will pull it and make it its own post, with a label on the post and on the sidebar that will always link to all the posts you write for this blog. I am always looking for reviews of games, tv, movies, music and books.
ALSO. You can use this space to re-ask me questions you asked me before that I failed to answer because I was too busy.
AND you can use this space to comment on posts that are old enough that no one is reading the comments threads anymore.
You do not have to have a blogger account or gmail account to post a comment -- you can write a comment, write your name at the bottom of your comment like an e mail, and then post using the "anonymous" option.
WRITING FOR THIS BLOG. If I see a big free form comment that deserves more attention, I will pull it and make it its own post, with a label on the post and on the sidebar that will always link to all the posts you write for this blog. I am always looking for reviews of games, tv, movies, music and books.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Bruce Springsteen's Working on a Dream
by Scott
Despite the album’s title track being performed at several stops endorsing Barak Obama, Springsteen’s Working On A Dream is his least political album in a decade; in fact, it might be his most personal album since 1987’s Tunnel of Love (or, at least, 1992’s Human Touch). It can definitely be seen as the final part of Springsteen’s ‘Millenial Trilogy’ began with 2002’s The Rising and continued, only 14 months ago, with Magic. But the connection is more musical than lyrical (due, no doubt, in part to all three albums being produced by Brendan O’ Brian). While The Rising gave voice to the country’s post 9-11 confusion and Magic railed against opportunities squandered in Bush’s America, Working On A Dream returns to the kind of epic grandeur and quirky characters that he hasn’t visited in a good three decades.
Magic was the Boss at his tuneful best and saw him craft some of his tightest songs since, at least, Born In The USA (some might even say since Born To Run). With Working on a Dream, he continues along those same lines but accents it with a grandiosity that has been missing from his work since the seventies. No where is that more apparent than on the album opener “Outlaw Pete”; at 8 minutes, it’s the longest song he has recorded in 30 years and, lyrically, it recalls the best of past epics like “Lost in the Flood” and “Jungleland.” It all builds to a brilliant string driven crescendo with Springsteen wailing “can you hear me?” before the titular character rides out blazing through a trail of violins and shrieking guitars.
After a 37 year recording career, Bruce still shows he’s capable of surprises; the distorted blues stomp of “Good Eye” (which, I suspect, might be inspired by the amped up version of “Reason to Believe” that he had been playing on tour last year) and the backwards guitar solo in “Life Itself” are fresh textures added to his already rich palette. And, on one of the album’s highlights, “Surprise, Surprise” we have a rare instance of Springsteen allowing his British invasion influences come to the forefront.
Still, not every track is a homerun. The title track drags, “Tommorrow Never Knows” cops its title from a much better song (a bit of advice, if you’re going to steal a title, steal it from a song that you know won’t be as good as yours) and, maybe, there are a few too many mid-tempo numbers and not enough rockers.
Whenever an artist releases a quickie follow-up to a major release (especially an artist who is usually as slow with his output as Springsteen), I’m always a bit wary; these albums tend to be made up of cast-offs from the previous record or songs written quickly in between rehearsals. These albums tend to best be viewed not so much as albums in their own right as they are a sort of coda to the previous release. Occasionally, an artist will build momentum and take that energy from touring and put it towards building something that does stand as a work unto itself (U2’s Zooropa for instance). Working on A Dream can definitely be categorized in that latter category. I’m still not sure if I like it quite as much as I do Magic (which has become one of my favorite Springsteen albums) but I do know there’s only one person I’ll be rooting for at the Super Bowl this weekend: Bruuuuuuuuce!
[Obviously I failed to put this up before the Superbowl. That said, Scott -- would you care to respond to this Slate analysis of the Superbowl performance?]
Despite the album’s title track being performed at several stops endorsing Barak Obama, Springsteen’s Working On A Dream is his least political album in a decade; in fact, it might be his most personal album since 1987’s Tunnel of Love (or, at least, 1992’s Human Touch). It can definitely be seen as the final part of Springsteen’s ‘Millenial Trilogy’ began with 2002’s The Rising and continued, only 14 months ago, with Magic. But the connection is more musical than lyrical (due, no doubt, in part to all three albums being produced by Brendan O’ Brian). While The Rising gave voice to the country’s post 9-11 confusion and Magic railed against opportunities squandered in Bush’s America, Working On A Dream returns to the kind of epic grandeur and quirky characters that he hasn’t visited in a good three decades.
Magic was the Boss at his tuneful best and saw him craft some of his tightest songs since, at least, Born In The USA (some might even say since Born To Run). With Working on a Dream, he continues along those same lines but accents it with a grandiosity that has been missing from his work since the seventies. No where is that more apparent than on the album opener “Outlaw Pete”; at 8 minutes, it’s the longest song he has recorded in 30 years and, lyrically, it recalls the best of past epics like “Lost in the Flood” and “Jungleland.” It all builds to a brilliant string driven crescendo with Springsteen wailing “can you hear me?” before the titular character rides out blazing through a trail of violins and shrieking guitars.
After a 37 year recording career, Bruce still shows he’s capable of surprises; the distorted blues stomp of “Good Eye” (which, I suspect, might be inspired by the amped up version of “Reason to Believe” that he had been playing on tour last year) and the backwards guitar solo in “Life Itself” are fresh textures added to his already rich palette. And, on one of the album’s highlights, “Surprise, Surprise” we have a rare instance of Springsteen allowing his British invasion influences come to the forefront.
Still, not every track is a homerun. The title track drags, “Tommorrow Never Knows” cops its title from a much better song (a bit of advice, if you’re going to steal a title, steal it from a song that you know won’t be as good as yours) and, maybe, there are a few too many mid-tempo numbers and not enough rockers.
Whenever an artist releases a quickie follow-up to a major release (especially an artist who is usually as slow with his output as Springsteen), I’m always a bit wary; these albums tend to be made up of cast-offs from the previous record or songs written quickly in between rehearsals. These albums tend to best be viewed not so much as albums in their own right as they are a sort of coda to the previous release. Occasionally, an artist will build momentum and take that energy from touring and put it towards building something that does stand as a work unto itself (U2’s Zooropa for instance). Working on A Dream can definitely be categorized in that latter category. I’m still not sure if I like it quite as much as I do Magic (which has become one of my favorite Springsteen albums) but I do know there’s only one person I’ll be rooting for at the Super Bowl this weekend: Bruuuuuuuuce!
[Obviously I failed to put this up before the Superbowl. That said, Scott -- would you care to respond to this Slate analysis of the Superbowl performance?]
Jason Powell on Uncanny X-Men #195
[Guest Blogger Jason Powell continues his issue by issue look at Chris Claremont’s X-Men run. For more in this series, see the toolbar on the right.]
“It Was a Dark and Stormy Night ...”
Claremont has nothing but good things to say about Louise Simonson’s work as an editor on Uncanny X-Men, and indeed there are some fantastic issues to be found from the Simonson (then Jones) editorial tenure – the phenomenal Paul Smith run, for example. As a writer, however, Louise Simonson would come to make some terrible contributions to the X-Men franchise when she took over as regular writer of both X-Factor in 1986 and New Mutants in 1987.
Her first blow against the franchise’s integrity occurs right here, however, when the 12th issue of her original creation Power Pack – an altogether too precious series about superhero kids – crosses over into Uncanny X-Men #195.
Since the action mostly takes place in the Morlock tunnels, a grimy milieu that suits the down-and-dirty style of Romita Jr. and Green perfectly, the issue is not a total loss. It’s as lovely to look at as anything by the art team. (Plus, Romita Jr.’s iteration of Power Pack is surprisingly adorable.) Claremont’s writing has a few fun moments as well – the revelation that Shadowcat’s power has increased to the point that she can phase four people plus herself is very cool. Also well handled is Kitty’s embarrassment/pride at Wolverine’s constant deferment to her authority as temporary team leader.
Still, in spite of those pitifully few bright points, this issue ranges in quality from just generally bland to rather awkward and even laughable. There surely is no more embarrassing moment in Wolverine’s history than when he corrects a four-year-old girl for suggesting that Luke Skywalker’s adventures were “fun.” Apparently, Logan is an anal-retentive “Star Wars” geek. Who knew?
“It Was a Dark and Stormy Night ...”
Claremont has nothing but good things to say about Louise Simonson’s work as an editor on Uncanny X-Men, and indeed there are some fantastic issues to be found from the Simonson (then Jones) editorial tenure – the phenomenal Paul Smith run, for example. As a writer, however, Louise Simonson would come to make some terrible contributions to the X-Men franchise when she took over as regular writer of both X-Factor in 1986 and New Mutants in 1987.
Her first blow against the franchise’s integrity occurs right here, however, when the 12th issue of her original creation Power Pack – an altogether too precious series about superhero kids – crosses over into Uncanny X-Men #195.
Since the action mostly takes place in the Morlock tunnels, a grimy milieu that suits the down-and-dirty style of Romita Jr. and Green perfectly, the issue is not a total loss. It’s as lovely to look at as anything by the art team. (Plus, Romita Jr.’s iteration of Power Pack is surprisingly adorable.) Claremont’s writing has a few fun moments as well – the revelation that Shadowcat’s power has increased to the point that she can phase four people plus herself is very cool. Also well handled is Kitty’s embarrassment/pride at Wolverine’s constant deferment to her authority as temporary team leader.
Still, in spite of those pitifully few bright points, this issue ranges in quality from just generally bland to rather awkward and even laughable. There surely is no more embarrassing moment in Wolverine’s history than when he corrects a four-year-old girl for suggesting that Luke Skywalker’s adventures were “fun.” Apparently, Logan is an anal-retentive “Star Wars” geek. Who knew?
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