Category Archives: Comic Books Are Awesome

The New 52: DC Comics Starts Over (Sort of) with Justice League #1

As you may know by now, DC Comics is scrapping (almost) all of the last 80 or so years of their Comics and starting over with a fresh batch of 52 different #1 titles, including re-boots of every character from Superman on down. It’s a bold move, a polarizing one, with the potential to cost the publisher as many fans as it awards them. I, for one, am exactly the kind of reader DC is trying to pick up. I’ve been collecting since I was 12, but for the last ten years only pick up a handful of books a year due to budget and continuity concerns. For example, I tried following the ‘Death of Bruce Wayne’ plots last year but got lost quickly and gave up. Now, with all new plots and clean slates, I will be (tenatively) checking out a  few titles to see if this is something I can get into. After reading Justice League #1 however, it’s no sure bet.

This #1 is officially the first title of the new Universe, the only one released this week before DC starts pumping them out a dozen a week. This is our first look at a new, younger, more current group of classic superheroes. With seven figures blasting off our cover, we delve into Justice League #1. And we get…cops chasing Batman.

Huh. That…that seems like pretty familiar territory. As the text tells us, it’s “Five Years Ago” and Batman is leaping after an unidentified figure, Gotham’s finest following in helicopters, ordered to “bring them both down.” Rough. So, yea, it’s very much Year One styled mayhem here, as Bats dodges the cops and keeps up with the creep. His first line of the new Universe by the way?

what you talking 'bout?

Here’s the thing about this new Universe that I didn’t really explain yet. It’s all new…sort of. See, the minds behind this move have chosen to keep certain things going here, and set up certain characters as they were at odd times. Best case in point. Barbara Gordon is again the original Batgirl, going back on the events in Killing Joke. But, Dick Grayson, the original Robin, is still Nightwing, his persona after he grew up. So, we are to presume that within the first few years of Batman’s existence, he had several Robins, a Batgirl, a Batwoman (don’t forget her) and a slew of other adventures that previously took him decades to accumulate? Does this Universe have a Jason Todd? Is he dead? Too many Questions to begin, and that’s only one character.

Anyways, Batman grabs his prey, an alien looking brute with glowing eyes, and proceeds to question this creature like it’s a regular street thug. “What were you doing at the docks?” Uh, there’s probably more pertinent questions here, Batman, like what Hell is that thing? After the alien bashes him around a little we are introduced to Green Lantern, who drives a truck through the bad guy, and seems positively stunned to find the Batman really exists. So now it’s clear what we’re doing here. Each and every member of the Justice League has to actually meet face to face. Oh man, you guys. This could take awhile. I mean, we spend the next dozen pages exploring these two beloved characters like we’ve never heard of them. Green Lantern can do what? How? Wow!

It’s totally necessary, I know, if you’re acting like no one knows each other. You gotta do it right, but this gets tedious quickly. Although I do love Lanterns reaction to finding out Batman has no actual powers.

Basically, both these guys come off as cocky, self absorbed power trippers. Lantern especially takes a cavalier attitutde to his power, much like Ryan Reynolds did this summer in theaters. Can’t help but feel like writer Geoff Johns isn’t really trying anything new as much as retelling an old tale with new dialogue bubbles. And really, that is what makes this #1 a fairly underwhelming read; it’s entertaining yes, seeing Batman do anything is entertaining. But, we are just meeting our old characters in new tights, I guess I need to know why.

So, the alien they’re kinda sorta going after as they banter (the cops are long gone threats) blows hisself up real good while Batman presumes rather than deducts everything and Lantern just acts all “I got this bro” showy and we get a brief cutaway to some high school football game outta nowhere. Well, this four page detour is all a set up to our token black hero, football star kid named Vic Stone who’ll soon com to be known a Cyborg when some crazy accident or something makes him get all bionic. I’m just guessing all that, all I now for sure is his daddy is too busy studying superheroes to come to his games, wah wah.

Anyways, the alien is dead, but he left a box. Batman presumes it’s a computer, and Lantern’s all, “hmm, it’s alien technology. You know who’s an alien? That guy Superman in Metropolis. Let’s go ask him about it.” OK, I guess that’s a good reason to go meet Superman. They do and yep, they find him, and Superman immediately looks for a fight. Typical Kal-El. And that’s where we end, with a young looking Superman ready to rumble with Batman and Green Lantern. At this pace, it should take about 8 issues to meet everyone and probably another 8 to get them to stop fighting each other and form a League of heroes. I just don’t know if this story is good enough to commit to yet. I figure that DC Comics is a pretty big beast at this point, being 52 titles strong. Surely, that’s a helluva load to get off the ground, but if Johns and crew can get it up in the air, we might get to see some interesting places. Just don’t hold your breath.


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Harvey Pekar, 1939-2010

Underground comic writer and all around gloomy guy Harvey Pekar died this morning at his home in Cleveland. He was 70 years old.

Pekar was a regular everyman working as a file clerk and collecting Jazz records, until a fateful friendship with the artist Robert Crumb gave way to Pekar’s brilliantly off-beat cult favorite American Splendor comic books.

Realizing that comics could tell real stories, written for adults, and writing what he knew about best, himself, Pekar created the  autobiographical style that paved the way for today’s slew of memoir and non-fiction comic book writers and artists.

Pekar endured a brief celebrity status in the 1980’s, but always rejected the offers for bigger money, never wanting to become co-opted or to sacrifice his integrity for anyone else.

Pekar continued to work as a file clerk until his retirement. He always wrote about his own life, even chronicling his battle with lymphatic cancer in 1990’s Our Cancer Year.

In 2003, the film American Splendor introduced me and a whole generation of kids too young to watch Letterman in the 80’s to Pekar’s honest and scathing perspective on ordinary life. He was a one of a kind and I bet even Dave will miss the old guy.

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Well, Captain America is Screwed.

No, there is no way this poster is official in any way whatsoever. It’s fan made, and I ripped it off of Topless Robot, but damn if this isn’t the closest thing we are going to get to awesome in the upcoming Captain America movie. It’s been hyped and followed, with rabid Cap fans coming out of the woodwork to drool over casting choices and any kind of updates they’ll toss our way. But we’re all missing the big picture here. And that is that this movie is doomed. DOOOOOMED! And here’s why:

1. The Captain’s film history so far does not bode well.

Whether it’s in the lackadaisical 70’s TV movies, featuring Captain America in a motorcycle helmet for a mask and tossing around a plastic shield, or the 90’s straight to video abomination that’s basically known only as the movie too awful to release in theaters, this just hasn’t been Cap’s territory. He’s a colorful character, and a boyscout to boost. And neither of these things are going for him.

It’s not like Superman, a character who is universally and instantly recognized as a superhero fighting for the American Way. Captain America is at once a more obvious character (as in Captain Obvious America) and cryptic. He’s not so universally known. And those who know him equate him with old fashioned. Plain and simple, he’s one of the most dated personalities around. And it’s going to hurt him in the long run.

2. Joe Johnston.

One of my favorite internet critics, the Cinema Snob, put it best while reviewing director Joe Johnston’s latest film, The Wolfman. It went along the lines of, “the phrase ‘I’m a huge Joe Johnston fan’ have never been uttered on this Earth.”

Now, the man is a pretty good guy, I’m sure. And he does have the credit of working on the original Star Wars trilogy as an FX tech. But his resume is not making me comfortable. Johnston is the man responsible for directing such stinkers as Jurassic Park 3 and Hildago. And his better films are all kids movies! Jumanji, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, The Rocketeer, all decent movies I suppose, but all are aimed at 12 year olds. The First Avenger: Captain America is going to be a WWII film, you know? With Nazi’s and a dude whose head is a skull? I just don’t want it to look like a fucking cartoon this time.

3. Chris Evans.

Sorry fanboys, but this is not going to go well. I know everyone was really holding their breath over this one, but the ever smug Chris Evans should not be playing Captain America. A) He’s already the Human Torch, and I hate hate hate it when the same actor is playing different dudes in the same film universe. Point is, he’s already taken. B) The man cannot headline a film. Evans is a decent actor, especially when he’s playing in an ensemble cast. He’s good in Sunshine, Danny Boyle’s overlooked sci fi film, he’s featured in movies like Push, and upcoming in this year’s The Losers, but you’ll notice he’s always in the crowd, in the background even. What’s even worse is knowing this means the movie will now have dozens of gratuitous scenes where Captain America isn’t wearing a shirt. I swear, if I have to see this guy in a fucking towel, I’m going to lose it. Lose it!

4. Bucky Barnes.

Seriously? Fucking Bucky’s going to be in this thing? Why? If film adaptations of comic books have taught us nothing else, it’s that we don’t care about the sidekicks. Especially the likes of Bucky over here. And especially in the main hero’s first film outing. And it’s not even like Bucky is all that well known. Again, Captain America is not as universal as we (ahem) Americans think he is. Cap and Bucky just don’t come together in people’s minds like Batman and Robin, or even Yogi Bear and Boo Boo for shit’s sake. At least they didn’t cast Shia Lebouf for it. Then shit would’ve gotten really ugly.

5. The movie itself, as we know it.

Let’s review some other known facts. The two screenwriters are the guys who brought us the Chronicles of Narnia movies. And nothing else! Shit. The synopsis says that Steve Rogers (aka Cap) is developed into a super soldier, but then deployed as a USO clown, hence the colorful costume. Sigh. Incredible Hulk director Louis Leterrier offered his services, but Marvel turned him down. Sorry Louie, Joe Johnston’s got this one. Take it away Joe!

There you have it. Over a year from theaters, and this one’s already in the toilet. Oh well, at least he’s not fighting the teabaggers.

That would be really silly, right? Right? Guys?


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Today in why I can’t take comic books seriously anymore

Exhibit A:

What in the Hell is this thing?

I mean. It’s just.

I’m stunned. Fucking speechless.

This just might be the LAMEST cover of a comic book I have seen in my life. I just can’t even describe how awful I felt when I first looked on this monstrosity. Like Crap! That’s how I felt! Like fucking crap! This is a medium I take, or rather took, seriously for most of my life. This is an art form I grew up on and that shaped me into the nerd I am today. This is a character that I have spent countless nights reading after, following, sharing in the highs and lows. This is my nightmare.

Enter: The Flamingo!

What the Hell is wrong with your face?

For starters, all you need to know right now is that everything is wrong with Batman.  Bruce Wayne is dead.  Buried and Gone. In his place the original Robin and current Nightwing, Dick Grayson stepped in to preserve the Batman mythos. He knew that Batman could never “die.”

But Grayson is a poor substitute, and the current Robin, who is supposed to be Bruce Wayne’s flesh and blood child(!) is a complete jerk off. We also still have the Robin who was so universally disliked back in the 80’s, Jason Todd, that Bat fans voted TO KILL HIM.

So we have this “definitive” Batman stroy, sans Batman of course, following Dick Grayson and this kid fighting off even older throwback characters like the Red Hood (who originally appeared in motherfucking 1951) and these new henchemen who look like Wind in the Willows rejects.

Now you must be asking yourself, WTF? What’s the deal? Well, we can all thank Grant Morrison, the writer and ring leader in this freak show of a series. Morrison has been fucking with the dark knight proper ever since his seminal Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth graphic novel.

With that becoming a best seller and launching Morrison’s now prolific career, the creative mind in him keeps taking things in weirder and weirder directions. I already talked about him in my All Star Superman post, but here it just needs to be reinforced that this guy has a “do whatever the Hell you want ” pass at DC comics and he is fucking going for it.

But that brings me back to the Flamingo. Whips, tassles, pink jackets and all, this is one of the worst characters ever to pop up in a Batman comic. We’re talking 1960’s retro Adam West lunacy here. This overly colorful and flamboyant bore poses a threat to Batman, even a stand in?

I seriously could not stop gawking just at the cover. And then it hit me. Oh God. I have seen this man before. I know who this is supposed to be. It’s  so clear to me now! It’s him! It’s him!

Even down to the smoke in the background. The Flamingo is … Prince!?!?

This is why I can’t take comic books seriously anymore. Here’s the most telling thing. When Annie looked at the cover featuring the Flamingo, she immediately asked, “Is that Alfred?” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  It’s an embarrassment.

But Wait! There’s more.

Exhibit B:

Now, wait a minute. Just wait. Stop and look at this picture. I will explain.

That’s Bruce Wayne as a Cave Man.

He’s coming back, people. Bruce Wayne wasn’t dead at all! And that’s not even a spoiler because DC has been telling us this almost since Bruce bought it earlier this year.

In the move that proves NO ONE DIES IN COMIC BOOKS, Bruce Wayne is simply “Lost in the timestream.”

Please, DC could you expand on that nugget for just a sec?

“Blasted by the mysterious and powerful Omega Effect in the pages of FINAL CRISIS during a deadly battle with the malevolent New God Darkseid, Bruce Wayne must battle back through the waves of time to reclaim what was his – his city, his life…his cowl?”

His cowl? His cowl? Why is the cowl part a question? Is Dick Grayson seriously not going to give it back? Is Bruce really going to get back to his own time, fighting throughout history, to give up the cowl? Fuck are you talking about DC? You don’t really think we’re hanging on to every one of these little clues do you?

We know how these stories work. We’ve seen it. Superman died, remember? How did that go? He came back. Even Marvel knows this formula. They killed Captain America a few years back. Get how this worked. He died, his sidekick Bucky took over as Captain America for some time, and then Cap came back. It’s pretty played out by now guys.

And guess who’s helming this return of Wayne? Why, it’s Morrison, the man who brought us the Flamingo is also the man who will be giving us Cave Batman, and this guy!

That’s a pirate Batman. I know. I know.

Some of you might be thinking, wait, this is kinda cool. Batman as a pirate? I like it! I want to see this! Yea, this could work.

No people, this does not work. I will tell you why. The most bankrupt period in Batman’s history occurred in the late 50’s and 60’s where the character had gone from a dark crusader to a kid friendly stooge. The writers constantly had Batman turn into a number of mutations or characters. You may not know it, but there were issues featuring Bruce Wayne turned into a super smart baby, or a zebra, or a martian. This really happened.

And now, it’s happening again. Pirates and cave men are cooler than babies and zebras, but still. It kinda kills the mood for me. Bruce Wayne is a detective, a crusader, he’s not Bill and Ted’ excellent adventure. He’s not H. G. Wells. He’s not Jack fucking Sparrow over here!

I don’t really know how to end this ramble except to say I am really sad to see my Bats in such a state. Please stop destroying my Batman DC. Now when the dust settles and Bruce is back, I will start to pick up the book again. Until then, take your Flamingos and pirates and shove ’em. I wash my hands of you.


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The Walking Dead

Ever since I saw Zombieland a few months ago, my appetite for the undead has hit the roof. I finally bought a copy of one of my favorites, Shaun of the Dead, going back to Max Brook’s amazing World War Z, and am now catching up on the survival horror comic book epic The Walking Dead.

I say epic, because that is writer and creator Robert Kirkman’s intention, an epic story, sprawling cast and locations, a character driven and emotional rollercoaster of a comic. This is no mere slash and run, shoot the head gore fest, though that does happen often throughout. This is more of a portrait of man in a changing, lawless world, and how he changes with it.

Robert Kirkman is the man responsible for the classic and classy Battle Pope. A stinging action book also of apocalyptic proportions, Battle Pope was hilariously blasphemous, toting a cigar smoking, bar brawling Pope, complete with Jesus for a sidekick. (my favorite part was the “what would I do?” t-shirt JC sported)

For this book, Kirkman has altered his style greatly, telling a serious story sans tongue in cheek or adolescent humor. In fact, this book is deadly serious.  It’s an intense study focusing on the breakdown not only of society, but of the individual.

Our hero is Rick. He’s a small town cop who goes down in the line of duty and subsequently wakes up in a hospital bed a la 28 Days Later. In fact, Rick’s awakening and initial wanderings are almost step for step those of Cillian Murphy, only we’re talking about rural Kentucky instead of  London. Rick seeks out his wife and young son, who aren’t at the house naturally. He heads to Atlanta and eventually meets up with a band of survivors in the woods, and look, there’s the fam. A bit of luck after all. The rest of the book is concerned with the group struggling to survive not only their undead attackers, but the coming winter.

This is the kind of book that does not hesitate to kill off characters at a moment’s notice, so yea, most of the supporting folks are going down eventually. Things are increasingly bad in the woods, so the group gets a hold of weapons and an RV, traveling a bit before settling on an abandoned federal prison, where they stay for a long stretch.

So far, at 60 plus issues, the timeline for the events has reached around a year, maybe year and a half, and these characters go through major changes in the process. Without their previous lives, some adapt better than others. Some learn they’re a dead eye with the rifle. Some with a samurai sword.

Kirkman really allows us to get to know these people, at times playing it like a soap opera, at times a simple ’round the campfire confessional. This has the distinct effect of making every death, every loss that much more intense. You literally gasp when some of this shit goes down. (at least I did)

The best parts are the ones when events move quickly. Scenes of target practice and gardening are all well and fine, but this is familiar territory for the zombie genre at least. But, when a helicopter goes down overhead, or the survivors undergo an assault by the living, things quickly heat up and the action is really superb.

Kirkman’s greatest strength in the book is his realistic, but all together enthralling plot. I mean, holing up in a deserted prison is brilliant. What a concept! The discoveries and obstacles are always thrilling, the zombie fights are always engrossing, it keeps you turning pages like few books out there.

This is all aided by the excellent art of both Tony Moore and, later, Charlie Adlard. In a pale and gray composition, the hungry monsters are absolutely repulsive and awesome. Great concepts, perfectly disgusting. The zombie art is worth the price of admission on its own. Adlard’s scratchier style is also a great help to give the characters true misery and pained expressions. We can see the strain, see the worry, the stress. It’s dirty and rough. It’s perfect. Romero would be proud.

I would only say this, Kirkman needs to keep working on the dialogue. A lot of characters basically talk exactly the same, with only little catchphrases standing out. There’s one guy who says “you follow me?” after every fucking dialogue bubble sometimes. I get it. He says that. Do I need to read it fifteen times an issue? Other characters all use these awkwardly sounding little expressions like “let’s just say” or “man/bro/c’mon” before and after every word. Does anyone talk like this in real life? Let’s just say it’s annoying as Hell sometimes, you follow me?

See? That’s annoying to read!

In fairness, I thought the dialogue’s gotten better as it’s gone along. And the story has taken a lot of twists and unexpected turns, making it a new kind of angle on the zombie story. Kirkman himself has said that the worst part of any zombie movie is that it ends. We want to know what happens next. We want to know what became of these characters after we had to leave them. This book does that. It’s the never ending story of zombie horror. And a damn fine read.

My suggestion is collecting (or borrowing from the library like I did) the hardcover collections. They look really great, and encompass 12 issues each, enough to keep you up late into the night.  There is also a massive volume collecting the first four hrdcovers, or 48 single issues. That’s a lot of zombies!

If you want a taste of this book, the first issue is online for free. Check it out.



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Comic Books are Awesome, But All-Star Superman is Confusing as Hell

To begin, I’ve never really been a Superman fan. It’s hard for me. I try, I really do. And I understand the importance of Superman, both historically and presently, as the flagship of DC Comics. There is no denying that he is the original superhero, and still the most recognizable figure in comics today. That’s not easy to do, and it’s a position I doubt he will ever be relieved from.

So what’s the deal? I grew up in a very rocky time for Superman fans, especially young ones. When I was 11 years old, Superman died. He died! They killed him, and everyone really thought that would be the end. I remember reading those issues, borrowed from friends and libraries. It was sad, it was shocking, it was over.

And then he came back, and there were these alternate Supermen, there were different dimensional story lines, there was that electric blue version, I couldn’t figure it out. Superman has always been a character whose involvement with space and time has perplexed me. And what perplexes me usually turns me off after a while. It’s like DC does these Infinite Earth series, I just can’t wrap my head around it. This is probably why my favorite comic book hero is still, and always will be, Batman. Sorry Supes, you’re just too much hero for me.

So recently, I picked up All-Star Superman, about four years late to be sure, but no one has ever accused me of being timely with these posts. I have enjoyed a lot of writer Grant Morrison’s work, albeit except when he gets all confusing like in Countdown and that nonsense, and I had heard that this was a re-imagining of the character in a timeless and classic sense. So, I figured this was a Superman story I could get into, the classic characters and amazing adventures without all the muck of this or that storyline.

Well, forget all that. All Star Superman is one of the most confusing convoluted comics I have ever come across. It zips around almost incoherently sometimes, and though hints of classic Superman moments exist, they are largely dropped in favor of a plot that introduces elements completely beyond my mere imagination of the character. Let’s look at Volume One (issues 1-6).

We start with a simple, four panel, eight word backstory, my favorite kind. If I have to sit through one more origin story of Superman, I might scream. While Morrison’s writing is precise and direct, Frank Quitely’s art is even more so a clear and dramatic focus of events. Right off the bat, we get maybe one of the best artistic works of Superman ever created.

The art throughout this book is stunning, simplistic yet effective, probably the best part of the series. And with Jamie Grant’s impressive coloring, and Phil Balsman’s elegant lettering, it’s never a chore to look at. Unfortunately, I don’t really know what I’m looking at half the time.

The story begins at the Sun, where Lex Luthor has sabotaged a spacecraft attempting to collect some of the star’s, um, power? Juice? Whatever? Superman saves the day, but the extreme radiation and intensity of the solar rays, which are what gives Supes all these powers in the first place, has sort of overloaded his system. Yikes.

He’s got more powers, and less weaknesses-just what he needed I’m sure- but is said to be dying, slowly and ironically as it were, and this is evidently Luthor’s plan all along. Smart guy. So Superman is dying, the scientist who he saved is trying to figure out how to A) save him, and B) create other super powered beings in case he can’t, Lex is going to jail for crimes against humanity, and Lois Lane’s got a birthday coming up. Busy fucking first issue folks.

Then we get into the most eye rollingly ridiculous plot line I’ve ever come across. Superman once again tells Lois that he’s really Clark Kent (duh!) and she doesn’t believe him! Why are we still going on this track? It was played out in the movies over thirty years ago. They’ve been married in the comics, she’s found out his identity dozens of times. Get over this whole thing please.

They go to his fortress of solitude and he’s acting all weird right? Secret rooms, dwarf star keys (sheesh, he’s strong, we get it) and leaving Lois alone to wander around his new time telescope. ( It lets him talk to his Super successors, those who come after him, like Kal Kent the Man of Steel…of Tomorrow. What original names we have here. )

There’s so much useless junk in this fortress, it’s a wonder he can get around, genetic libraries, phantom zone map rooms, the freakin’ Titanic! There’s even a point where Superman looks at this mirror and  goes “Mirror of truth, huh?” Even he doesn’t believe all the shit Morrison’s stuffed in there!

And not only that, but Superman gives Lois, for her birthday, not the truth about his dying or anything meaningful but a vial of Super soda that grants her his powers for 24 hours. So they can go on a Super date I assume. Aaaand, not only that, but she gets her own Super skimpy suit, so he’s not the only jackass in tights. Look at this.

I swear I almost put the book down at this point. Really. I was laughing at the stupidity of the whole thing to a point where I just couldn’t take it seriously. For me, comics ( and actually any story out there) need to at least have some semblance of a grounded reality to play off of. Even a sliver, even a speck. So when a Super Sphinx comes about or a future version of Superman, the unknown Superman nonetheless, asks who J.Lo was, it kind of destroys the character and story for me.

I mean at this point it’s too much, and we’re only three issues in. There’s no build up to this, no explanations, it’s all hanky. We jump around to different points waaay too quickly, waaay too briefly. For example, we have a single issue story of an Evil Superman, when Superman is exposed to something called Black Kryptonite (which seems kind of racist, no?) and Jimmy Olson injecting himself with something that turns him into Doomsday to fight him?

The Hell is going on? It’s like a bunch of Superman stories that would boggle even the most hyperactive, attention deficit of comic fans. I can’t keep up with this. There’s an underverse, there’s a 5th dimension Superman, there’s bizarro infra-technicians and worker drones, there’s a measurement of 200 quintillion tons, there’s genetically modified suicide bombs in human form. And it’s all just so, I can’t , why did, who’s zit, what’s zit, AAAAUUUGGHH.

My brain just broke. Thanks a lot Superman.

What do you think Batman would have to say about this comic?




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Disney bought Marvel and already the world is collapsing

Yesterday, the Disney Corporation bought Marvel Comics for $4 Billion.

All that time I was wondering what to think of this deal. It could be awful. It could be the downfall of comics and comic movies. It could be great. I’m not discounting that. Disney owns Pixar, and you love Pixar. Don’t deny it.

So Disney might not muck up the whole Marvel empire, but you know what will? Every other studio currently making Marvel titles.

FOX studios, for example, has now reported that they are actively working on a new Fantastic Four movie. Ummmm. What?

That’s right. Under the Disney/Marvel agreement, any other studio with rights to Marvel properties, like Sony with Spiderman and FOX with Fantastic Four, can keep making those movies, as long as they don’t stop.

So FOX has decided there’s a little blood left in the Fantastic Four turnip, and they’re aiming to squeeze that fucker to death. And here’s the kicker, from the A.V. Club:

“Fox now plans to start over under the guidance of writer/producer Akiva Goldsman—because if there’s one guy who knows how to get superheroes right, it’s the screenwriter of Batman and Robin

Oh God no.  I am literally speechless. As if FF wasn’t already the worst series in Marvel’s movie canon, the guy who almost single handedly brought down Batman is going to run the show?

The only silver lining here is that one movie should be more than enough to kill off the FF franchise but good. Have at it, Goldsman. Do your worst. I will go on ignoring Fantastic Four movies as I have done before. Just don’t tell Hitler, I have a feeling he won’t like this whole deal one bit.


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