Understanding Comics

When I am made Emperor, this shall be compulsory reading for everybody... or perhaps I'll completely ban it: whichever of the two options that is more likely to encourage people to peruse the contents, for something must be done, because it just aint right.

It's not right, in this day and age, that people are ignorant about this medium, and considering that Scott McCloud's almost perfect tome has been available since 1993 there is simply no excuse for it. None.



Scott got clarity. The vast majority of things written about Art do not seem to aim for comprehensibility. They don't.( George Orwell made an interesting point in his essay 'Politics and the English Language': that some art criticism is actually entirely devoid of meaning).

This comic aint like that.

This comic comprehensively and comprehensibly examines its subject* (which he defines as 'visual art-in-sequence') extremely clearly.
In fact, understanding comics does it with the absolute clarity that only the combination of words and pictures can provide.

I love it.

Have a taste: this is the opening 10* panels to Chapter 2:

'The vocabulary of Comics'

they appeared as four panels on the first page and six in the second.

Bill Bryson Shakespeare

There was resonant story, or to put it another way, there was a story I have never forgotten, printed in 2000ad in the early eighties about the origin of Shakespeare's plays.

It was one of a series of short stories about time-travel with a twist in the ending; this one was nice because it promised the reader an answer to the conundrum of who actually wrote all of Shakespeare's famous works.

The story is narrated by a man in elisabethan dress speaking directly to the 'camera'. He relates the tale of himself as a younger man, an obsessional genius who occupies his mind only with astrophysics and the works of William Shakespeare.

Thanks to his brilliant mind and steadfast diligence,— he finally unlocks the secret of efficient and safe time-travel, but rather than publish his findings and change the world forever— first he decides to use the device to travel back in time and actually meet the most famous poet/dramatist in the English language.

He gets some period gear, he sets the dial, and off he goes.

He arrives at the right day, in the right year, in the correct part of London to discover that there is no sign of Stratford's most famous citizen, and waits for the bard to show up.

The 'twist' is, there is no Shakespeare: nobody has ever heard of him.

He waits and waits until, in a blind panic, rather than see a world without the work of Shakespeare— the scientist sits down and writes out the complete works of the bard from memory.

The plays are staged, the sonnets collected, ( and in the guise of Shakespeare,) he is a great success but by the end of the story is driven into madness and melancholia with wondering where the all the work (that he has learnt by rote) actually came from.

Cool story, but as Roy Walker used to say on catchphrase: "It's a good answer but it's not right".

Bill Bryson has a far better-researched and also far more-common sense answer to the 'who wrote Shakespeare' question which is convincing, entertainingly put and makes a lot of academics look very silly indeed.

I strongly recommend it; for even if you have scant knowledge or only a passing interest in the play's and pomes of old Billy-Boy you will feel, upon completion of this fairly slim volume, that you know everything,or just as much as anyone else, or just as much as there is that's worth knowing, about the life of William Shakespeare.

And you'll have been entertained.

Not bad for €10.44

And it's entertaining.

Did I mention that?

Thor in my side

I never really liked Marvel Comics and I thought the worst were their Thor Comics.

Vikings,- like Ninjas or Pirates are just automatically cool, but Thor was the lamest, spandex-disco-viking I had ever seen. I think I only ever had one Thor comic because ( as well as Thor looking totally lame) the story was rubbish with way too much reading and no action.

This is an entire page from Thor*:

* Not actually him in this panel, someone in disguise, but who gives a flyin' continental.

Is lame, no?

This is how much reading went along with this one lame picture:










The clunky exposition, the rubbish alliteration, the assumption that I'll find this interesting because I'm told that it's interesting, the vomit-inducing patronising tone, the 'spot-the difference' puzzle element to the page (because Odin-knows the story aint gonna grab ya) LAME LAME LAME LAME... AAAAAAAAARGH!

Why does so much Marvel read like it was written by a game-show host?

Speaking of AAAAAAAAARGH! Compare Thor to this guy, the viking from 2000ad, his name is Wulf Sternhammer and his mighty hammer he calls 'der Happy Stick!':



And that's not even a full-page and Wulf isn't even the main character.
Wulf was a Historical Scandinavian who began his story as a Warrior on the fjords but got mixed up with a time-travel and became an intergalactic bounty-hunter.

Which to my mind made him way cooler.

This last picture of Wulf is from the same page: there is more 'viking' in this image ( *Which took up about the same area as one of those over-long talk boxes) than I ever saw in my entire Thor comic.

Marvel Thor isn't a real viking, he's not even a real God,— he's just a Spaceman,—and Kenneth Brannagh sounds like he doesn't want anyone to know that he comes from Belfast.

But I went to see the fillum anyway.

Why?

Because of Bock is why.

And hand on heart, it wasn't a bad 'oul flick: way better than the comics, — but what sort of a world is it when all that time and talent goes into the lame-o lunch-box cover crap-arsed viking of my youth and 'Wulf' and 'der happy stick' are consigned to relative oblivion?

I ask you?

The Male Feminist pt 3

And so ends this journey, most definitely with a whimper rather than a bang.

I think 'the compliment of rational opposition' is a compliment always, and one to be all the more treasured when it's in response to a statement that wasn't all that rational to begin with; so I want to earnestly say thanks for any heckling from the wings on this one. I hope my general half-bakedness doesn't enrage anyone too much, as for meself,-I really have enjoyed faffing around the interweb and trying to get a fuller picture of this Marston chap.

'Feminist' as a term seemed to be the major flag-raiser but there aint no way around that because that is the word associated with Mr Marston I took exception to and really didn't realise took much defining.

So, seeing as the horse has bolted, and there's a bit of a draught in here why don't we close the door:

Feminism defined (via five minutes and a search engine):

.....

#1.a doctrine that advocates equal rights for women. wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn #2. Feminism refers to movements aimed at establishing and defending equal political, economic, and social rights and equal opportunities for women.[1][2][3] Its concepts overlap with those of women's rights. Feminism is mainly focused on women's issues, but because feminism seeks gender equality, some feminists argue that men's liberation is therefore a necessary part of feminism, and that men are also harmed by sexism and gender roles.[4][5][6][7] Feminists—that is, persons practicing feminism—can be persons of either sex. wikipedia #3. Feminism does not have a single fundamental definition. Feminism refers to the belief in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes; that each individual is a valuable human being in his or her own right. The goal of feminist work is broader than simply a stronger emphasis on women; the goal is to revise our way of considering history, society, literature, etc. so that both male and female are seen equally conditioned by the gender constructions of their culture. Magaessays.com

Feminism from the above definitions is grounded in a desire for equal rights for all people regardless of gender. In other words all that is good and right and every civilised society should be aiming for so: what on earth did I think I was talking about?

Okay. Back when I was a gorsoon in Art college, I came in one day and this poster was on the wall:



Whatever section I had in my head under the word 'Feminism', this poster was the thumbnail for it. 'Feminism' was, for me, whatever put that poster up and thought it was a good thing.
The 'Male Feminist' whom I did not trust, is the person ( with their genitalia mainly outside their body ) who is not offended by it.

Now that's a simplistic and uninformed way of thinking as it turns out, and I really oughta no better -but it's good to be learning at this stage in my life.

When I read Marstons' interviews, my own reaction is that the man was essentially 'White-knighting',on a grand scale- I could be wrong, but his notion of the perfect society with loving, nurturing, females incapable of aggression at the helm is one I find shockingly patronising.

In spite of all this was he a 'feminist'? -Well he definitely tried to make a positive contribution, and although her readership has always been 90% male and although when she joined the Justice Society of America superhero group they only took her on as club secretary ( I kid you not), Wonderwoman was probably over-all a better role model for young women,( and what they might be), than what was out there before.

Gloria Steinham considered her the right gal for the cover of issue#1 of 'Ms' Magazine:


And it's probably unfair to judge the Marston by today's standards (that the F.B.I. under Hoover administration had no time for him doesn't actually tell us much about the mans character either).

So, to finish up then here is a modern male self-proclaimed feminist who's attitude I complete agree with, this is from a blog called atopthefourthwall. The subject is Wonderwoman's new costume 2010, and the author is not in favour.


....'But wait,' many of you have asked me, 'Aren't you a feminist? Aren't you happier now that she isn't wearing a sexist bathing suit and is actually wearing pants and showing less skin?' Well, let's address that last part first - she's not really all THAT much more covered up. She's still got exposed cleavage and frankly most comic book artists draw pants on women as skintight to the point that it might as well be spray-painted on anyway. And even then, as I said, the Project Rooftop examples had plenty of costumes with pants, but they weren't black. And in case you're wondering if I'm just misinterpreting the colors and it's really dark blue, check out the article or buy Wonder Woman #600 for yourself - they're black.

Now let's address my feminism. This is once again a misinterpretation of what feminism is - the thing is, showing skin is not the problem. I mock it in a lot of books because it seems like a lot of women's costumes are designed to show as much skin as possible for titillation reasons. Instead of designing costumes that are logical for a character based on who they are, their origins, or their thought process, they're designed so that they can ride up a woman's ass and heterosexual men can drool at it. Part of feminism is that you don't have preconceived notions about a person simply because of how they dress, how society might look at a girl or a woman in a mini-skirt and think to themselves, "they must be a slut," when in reality they could just really like mini-skirts.

Costumes themselves are not necessarily sexist one way or another and the same goes for Wonder Woman (though I continually groan in frustration whenever an artist decides that Wonder Woman's lower half rides up her ass like a thong). How the characters are written and how their body language is portrayed is what makes things sexist one way or another. Frank Miller writes Vicki Vale to be obsessed with superhero penises and put in the script that he wants Jim Lee to sexualize her for titillation, making her into nothing more than an object to be gazed at, describing in detail that she should be in skimpy attire and that her ass should be front and center for the reader. THAT is a sexist portrayal...



This is a point of view I find perfectly valid and have no problem agreeing with, (a short skirt is simply a short skirt and what is depicted is different from how it is depicted e.t.c.) Personally, I'm for equal rights for everybody and I think objectification doesn't do much for human dignity of any gender, race or creed,

but I wouldn't call myself a feminist.

The Male Feminist pt2

Right so, where were we?

I began this thing with notions and prejudice. My notion was: "that Marston fella who invented Wonderwoman is constantly referred to as a feminist*, - I doubt it! (says Croker) - I'll just pop a couple of juicy facts down here and look up a couple more, and then we'll see how feminist he is!" a foolproof plan, which, like many the foolproof plan before it completely underestimates the ingenuity of fools.

Being neither a social scientist nor a true aficionado of DC comics in the post-war era; it turns out that there's a lot I don't know, and some of the stuff I do know and had wanted to talk about I don't really want to talk about any more, as it turns out.

Big Eeejit.

Anyway, by way of illustration I set before you an illustration: The last post began with a black and white photograph featuring Marston and Olive among others and so it is today. Observe:



Now I know it's only a photograph, and that the most hideous domestic situations are never revealed in the eternally smiling holiday snaps but something about this photos general wholesomeness puts me right off commenting on William Marston's home life.

It makes me feel frankly that it's none of my business. There was one sketchy report from a friend of his describing it as a patriarchal set-up but that hardly means anything, I mean; what does a visitor ever know? Upon reflection, I can't actually draw from his polygamy that he was a feminist or he wasn't a feminist, and as a blog commentator has so kindly pointed out, I have yet to even define feminist so I suppose that I should simply slap my forehead now and say, "Umm..Err.. I don't know what I'm talking about and it's none of my business anyway...".

But I'm not really smart enough for that folks.

Rather than commenting too much on several peoples' private lives, or attempting to define feminism, I think a wiser tactic might be to see what there is to support my original prejudice that a male feminist is, in some sense, a phoney.

There's a fantastic piece of phonyism in the 1941 article of 'Family Circle' where he's interviewed by Olive on the subject of the Wonderwoman comic and the doctrine of female supremacy which I have to link here and I strongly recommend reading as a delightful bit of hocum. The theories he propounds are not in spirit anyway different from the quotes in yesterdays blog, but what reads so strangely in the light of what we actually know of their relationship, is the fiction invented to give context to the article.



Our intrepid female reporter, comes back from a friends house. The friend has been widowed by recent events in Pearl Harbor, and is weary of all this talk of war, when she spots a comic-book on the table, and is suddenly inspired to visit her avuncular friend; the source of the comic-book heroine and a sage for her troubled mind.

She finds him, in his office of course, reading the exact same issue she noticed at home on the table: and then it's pretty much Harry Potter in Dumbledore's Study from there but instead of 'a scar', it's Olives' femininity which has marked her out for greatness. She remains incredulous and signs off in a tone that's more wistful than inspired as a result of her encounter with this delightful old dreamer.

Phony? check. Baloney? with extra slices, but to be fair it is Olive's phoney-baloney and it is for Family Circle magazine and it is the forties and the Japs have just bombed Pearl Harbor so it's not like an honest and direct version was ever going to be considered for publication. It's a piece of journalistic Hokum, but so what? So nothing really, I just felt I had to include it because I enjoyed it so much. It does illustrate another problem with any conclusions to be drawn from Marstons living arrangements because clearly it wasn't anything that he or his spouses could ever comment on at that time.

Still, she does lay it on a bit thick.

While Marston may or may not have been in favor of the fictional element of the article, and therefore by association, a 'phony'; he was, ironically enough for the man who invented the lie detector, an actual convicted criminal.

The article, "Will Give Hearing to Alleged Mail Defrauder," the Bridgeport Telegram, Wednesday, 7 March 1923, p. 13: WASHINGTON, March 6. -- Dr. William Moulton Marston, Jr., Professor of legal psychology at the American university and inventor of the sphygmomandmeter [sic] or "lie detector," has made $3,000 bond and will be given a hearing March 16 on a charge he "lied by mail."

Dr. Marston was arrested on a warrant charging use of the mails to defraud and was taken before United States Comissioner McDonald, who fixed the date of the hearing. He was indicted last November in Boston on complaint of a number of creditors who charged that as treasurer of the United Dress Goods, Inc. he misrepresented the financial condition of his firm and thus obtained considerable bills from them. Prominent among the complainants are A.D. Julliard & Co. and C. Bahnsen & Co. of New York. Another is his ex-furnace tender, of Boston, whom it is alleged he owes more than $100.

So what's goin on here? Well in all honesty I don't know and any further facts of this case other than what you see here elude me. On the face of it, Marston was found guilty of mendacity by correspondance to the tune of a hundred dollars; a hundred dollars may well have been a lot in those days but it was only a 30th of the bond he had to pay. There were two federal indictments and a number of creditors.
He was obviously strapped for cash and tried something he didn't get away with.

I think this makes him perhaps poor and desperate, but not necessarily a phony of any great degree and it certainly tells us nothing about his attitude to women.

The F.B.I. actually had a file on him, which is now a matter of public record. And although there isn't that much in it; I think it's fair to say that they definitely did regard him as a bit of a phony.

E.P. Coffey, who headed the FBI's Technical Laboratory,- had Marston's book reviewed for the bureau:

Re: Review of book entitled, Lie Detector Test by Doctor William M. Marston. The above-entitled book was reviewed by Mr. Quinn Tamm of the Technical Laboratory who reports that in his opinion the book is typical of all the work done by Doctor Marston in that it is written in an extremely egotistical vein and that the sole purpose of the book seems to be to establish the fact that Doctor Marston was the first to use the blood pressure test in the detection of deception. The first three chapters in the book deal with the subject of pointing out how Doctor Marston discovered the blood pressure test as a deception detector and also ridicules all other psychological attempts along this same line. The balance of the book is devoted to the various uses to which Doctor Marston has put the so-called lie detector test such as actual use in police cases, examination of employees in banks, a chapter entitled "Love and the Lie Detector" in which Marston points out how he has settled marital difficulties by the use of his psychological test. It is noted that throughout the book the author points out that the blood pressure test for the detection of deception in the hands of a trained operator is infallible and that once the deception has been detected it has been his experience that if this is pointed out to the subject he will admit his guilt and it will have the psychological effect upon him of making him always in the future tell the truth. This to Mr. Tamm, exemplifies the same egotistical ridiculous strain in which this book is written.

So they weren't exactly blown away.

Here's another illustration, not unusual for the era I suppose, where Marston has convoluted the application of his lie detector to demonstrate the sharpness of the Gillette blades:



Now, to yourself and meself, this seems like just another ludicrous forties advertisement, but the vast majority of its audience took it absolutely seriously.
So it seems did the F.B.I. They seem to have had an informer and have a full report on Marston's Gillette tests in Detroit. According to the report he interfered with test results to provide data the advertisers wanted and encouraged his colleagues to share the deception.
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2

Scribbled at the bottom of the first page is the comment:
"I always thought this fellow Marston was a phony & this proves it!"

Well I always thought that fellow was a phony too, Special Agent John. S. Bugas!
Unfortunately for me though, discovering that on more than one occasion Mr Marston was willing to bend the rules in order to secure cash for both his families isn't enough for my purposes.

I've come nowhere near outing the man as a phony feminist.

But if he was a genuine feminist, he was also a a bit of a phony too.


I've a bit more to say about this, but you can all shag off until tomorrow because I'm turning into some sort of hunch-backed translucent skinned web-wraith.

*Anyone who doubts exactly how often William Moulton Marston is described as a feminist can do a Google search of his name and the word 'feminist' he is given this title in every bio I could find.

The Male Feminist pt1

Okay I admit it, I bit off more than I can chew. I've really bitten off more than I can chew this time and the worst of it is that you; denizens of the data flow, you are the ones who have to digest it.

Upon reflection, perhaps things aint all that bad after all.
Because, (after all,) the interweb is an infinite menu and and instant click will take folk far away from this rubbish and onto something more palatable in an electronic nano-thrice.

Well today shall be one of them sloppy posts, so: If the urge should strike you, as you scan the pixels before you, to do this: then my advice is to obey that urge, (instantly).

Still here?-Okay then, I'spose that I might as well begin:

Have a look at this picture. This picture is from 1938 and depicts, in a fairly stagy way, the use of the first systolic pressure lie detector test. The gentleman on the far right is William Moulton Marston. The Lady taking notes is his student, Olive Byrne.

Have a look at Olive; Look familiar? Yes/No? Well there's no real reason why she should, except that, as you may or may not know, as well as inventing the stystolic pressure lie detector test, William Marston also created Wonderwoman, and cited Olive as one of his inspirations.


So let me say that once again:
Mr Marston invented the pre-cursor to the modern polygraph and he also invented the most well-known female super-hero of all time, based on Olive, (observe the bracelets!). How cool is that?

Marston is often referred to as a kind of 'proto-feminist', and at a time when women were regarded almost as children (and granted about as much self-determination), Marston was envisaging a new dawn of female supremacy. His most common quote (on the interveb) is from the American Scholar interview of 1944 where he said:

"Not even girls want to be girls so long as our feminine archetype lacks force, strength, and power... ...Women's strong qualities have become despised because of their weakness. The obvious remedy is to create a feminine character with all the strength of Superman plus all the allure of a good and beautiful woman."

Now that's a pretty cool thing for anyone to be coming out with back in 1944, I think you'd have to admit. Also, on the absolute fabbo-ness front, this man deserves respect for championing comics.

Marston examined comics when other psychologists were queueing up to blame them as a contributer to illiteracy and juvenile delinquency. It was when this intellectual crusade, ( which lead to the infamous 'comic-codes authority'), was in full 'Spanish Inquisition' mode, that Marston celebrated the popularity of the comic book form; seeing it as an opportunity to get kids to read -- and a platform to circulate his feminine supremacist ideal.

Here he addresses it in the same interveiw:

"It’s too bad for us ‘literary’ enthusiasts, but it’s the truth nevertheless -- pictures tell any story more effectively than words....If children will read comics...why isn’t it advisable to give them some constructive comics to read?"

Go on ya good thing Marston me boyo! So is it possible perhaps that William Moulton Marston was simply a brilliant and fantastic person, years ahead of his time and totally under-appreciated? Well.. um.. er... Okay this is where I get into the area of having bitten off more than I can comfortably chew... The answer to the above question is 'Yes!': but, it is a 'Yes!-but...'




As I admitted in the earlier post, I started this whole thing from a position of prejudice. It doesn't show much faith in human nature I guess, but I'm wary of folk who champion causes. I'm even more wary of folk who champion causes that do not seem to further their own self interest in even the smallest way. And a 'male feminist' kinda strikes me as likely phoney.



When I decided yesterday, to have a closer look at William, I was hazily aware that he lived in a menage e trois and that his second 'wife' ( Olive, incidentally): had been one of his students. I also knew that that 'gold-rope-that-made-you-tell-the-truth' didn't come out of nowhere and there was a huge aspect of bondage to his comics and to his psychological philosophy; I knew that an early study with his lie detector was to ask girls ( who, had been through a humiliating 'hazing' ritual,) whether they had enjoyed being beaten up and spanked. Conclusion: 'They loved it really the little tarts!'.

Alright I paraphrase, but my point being that when I decided to have a wee scratch on the surface; I wasn't really expecting to find what you'd call a 'feminist' and certainly, by today's standards, I didn't. But I didn't get a sense of a straight-forward fake either.

I shall have to finish this tomorrow, the computer's acting up and it's too late for me to continue.

I told you I bit off more than I can chew didn't I?

With Extreme Prejudice ( male feminist pt 0.5)

I'm not prejudiced but...

I am of course.

Human brains are pretty much hard-wired for it. Evolving as we did, in far smaller groups than the super-tribes of millions we interact with now, we just don't have the mental capacity for dealing with all the other people as individuals.

The brain takes short-cuts. These short-cuts lead to prejudice.

Case in point, if you had your lunch money stolen by a green-haired person at school; if you got mugged and badly beaten in your teens by a green-haired gang; if your green-haired neighbour poisoned your dog, and the one time you dated a green-haired person, they ran off with your best friend and all of your money; then the next time you meet a green-haired person, that person is going to have to work harder to gain your trust.


All the statistics in the world demonstrating that green-heads are no less moral than any other hair colour wont mean a damn to you in comparison to your own experience.

Green hair is a hypothetical physical characteristic, but there are millions of others. There are accents we don't like, ways of dressing that set off warning signals, even a persons age or gender is going to affect the way you view them. I think it's wrong for anyone to claim they are entirely without prejudice; it is never true: we constantly divide people in our minds into groups: 'Golf-drivers', 'Squash Players', 'Students', 'Scumbags', 'Suits', 'Emos', 'Mods' and 'Rockers'.

Anyway, my point being, that despite my best efforts; I notice what gender/age/skin-colour/clothes and accent people have, and that affects to some extent how I interact with them. I'd rather it didn't but it does. The phrase is :'To Keep an Open Mind', but I see 'closed' as the human mind default setting.

I would say that I don't Keep an Open Mind; I keep a closed mind, same as everyone else.

I try and open it as often as possible, but the sad fact is that the older you get the harder it is not to dismiss that green-haired person (or girl called 'Bláithín', or whatever the detail, that your own experience has led you to despise about people who share it, is ) and even if you do make friends with a green hair later in life, ( or you do come across a Bláithín who has a soul,) it's hard to dismiss all those years of having a contrary opinion, and the brain makes excuses to accommodate the original world view:

"No. The man who saved my life had kind of 'bluey green' hair"...

"She's not like all the other Blathins, I think of her more as a Sandra"...

My point is I'm prejudiced. I believe in the same rights and opportunities for all types of people but there are some types of folk I'm pre-disposed to more than others, and I'm probbly not gonna change at this stage. I believe that as soon you notice that someone is green-haired you have in some way categorised them in a different way.

All this is the pre-amble for the extremely prejudiced comment I am about to make:

Okay here goes.

Might as well just say it, and be done with it.

Right.

Here we go:

Any man who claims to be 'a feminist':I don't believe him.
I think he either actually thinks that he's something he's not,
Or he's pretending to be something he's not.

Todays post is only the intro,

In the next post I'll be having a look at one self-claimed feminist chap in more detail, but I just thought that I'd let you know by way of a heads-up.

I am completely prejudiced.

And if you think that it's in anyway typical of a white heterosexual male to be so judgemental:

Then so are you.

Safe Home

Well the last Post was so very long and wordy that I've decided, as a change of pace, to simply provide you with pictures today.

Below are the nine good pages of a photocopy/zine/comic I put together back in 1994.called 'Organgrinder'.

They were all originally in Black and White but I did a bit of colouring with MSpaint on the first page just for jolly.

What it came out of was a chap wrote a short story, which I (working from a 2000ad annual) translated into a panel-by-panel comic script which was then drawn, I thought brilliantly, by Mike Smyth A.K.A. Mike McGabhann and there you have it.

Not exactly blog friendly- (You'll have to Clicky-to-embiggen I'm afraid) but if I say so meself 'tis definately worth the perusing. My part in making it was the smallest, (I think Mike completely ignored the script after the first four pages, and the story-telling improved dramatically).

Here it is, and SLÁN ABHAILE!

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two


three

four

five

six

seven

eight

nine

Here comes the judge...

And so they're makin' another Judge Dredd fillum.

In South Africa of all places; and, there's a few pictures out; and, the script has been released; and, grown men of a certain age are all over th'interweb trying to decide amongst themselves: will it be any good?- or to put it another way, 'will they do the Judge Justice'?. 

 Movie creators can never really fully satisfy the expectations of Comic fans.
This is because the act of reading comics requires that each individual reader becomes the 'director' of their own movie; 'inside their head'.

When an audience is: either reading the plain text of a novel;
or following images and angles in comics to discern pacing, sound, and rhythm of the action;
or when they are being forced to estimate the size and weight of an approaching monster only by sound and the ripples of a glass of water,- it's always at these times, when people are forced to use their own imagination to fill in the gaps, that great stories become vivid and involving. Comic readers have all already experienced the characters and environment through a more engaging process than simple passive veiwing.

So, in a sense, a true aficionado of a comic script can never be happy with any filmed adaptation: the directors vision will always differ from the vision that the comic reader has been forced ,( by the absence of sound and movement,) to invent for themselves, &
each comic reader has been through a 'personal' storyboarding and visualisation process. So, the sense of satisfaction that they gain,( from any film that has been made from the same material,) will depend entirely on how well the end product fits with whatever they have already envisioned in their heads. These visions will differ from head to head.
I don't know, but I definitely suspect that even when the director themselves see the final product, that end product will always contain some (and perhaps even many) deviations from their own original vision: so,- how on earth are they supposed to provide the comic readers with any satisfaction?



They can't. And it's not their job anyway. Their job is to take whatever key elements (that existed in the original that made it special and resonant) and make it work for a cinema audience who will be mostly unfamiliar with it.

It could be argued, that when we see the successes of 'Road to Perdition', 'Sin City', or '300' that all a director has to do, to please both film audience and comic fan, is to follow the comics as story boards and follow them faithfully.

This is not an option for the 'Judge Dredd adaptor' because Dredd existed as a six-page weekly, not a graphic novel. Dredd has never really been one self-contained story and the style of writing him varied as almost as much as much as the artwork from week to week, and from year to year. It continued over such a long period of time that there is no single Judge Dredd or Mega City One: part of it's appeal was that it was evolving constantly.
And, unlike American equivalents, the writers were able to dispense with popular characters(in a 'hurt locker' stylee) and each artist was allowed to exhibit their own style.

Creatively, Dredd was the ultimate paradox. The Dredd story champions a fascist, but what made it stand out was that, among English language comics of the 80's, it was completely anarchic and non-conformist in it's execution.( Especially in comparison to American stories that conversely depicted 'champions of freedom' in an extremely conformist conveyor-belt style; Experts can tell Luke Kirby from A.N. other marvel artist, but the system in use was designed to hide that original hand as much as possible).

 
The original Dredd was ridiculously childish. Bit by bit, an adult sense of satire crept in, and then he was a joke, and then he was a beast, and then he was a beast to admire, and then he was a beast to pity and now he is a beast who commands respect because, to the reader, he is an old man who has been through so much and has never compromised (Despite being set in the future, Judge Dredd ages yearly with his audience). 



So the attitude and understanding of a stalwart Dredd-comic-reader is absolutely impossible to impart to an unfamiliar audience.

So now we have another Dredd film coming down the line. It looks cheap as chips, and the plot is just blood and snot but, in many ways, I think it's the ideal Dredd film for it's time. Because , after all, the comics actually were a bit pathetic and ridiculous to begin with, and only over time matured and made more sense, (as the the readers matured and got more sense).

The 1995 film was a pathetic cliche ridden pile of nonsense that got everything wrong but still would've been entertaining for a ten-year old: if we remember that that same ten year old is 25 today, we realise that maybe now they are just about ready for the the Dredd that Dredd turned into; a brutal gory fucked up Nazi; that unlike Dirty Harry or Batman isn't 'doing what he must do' because the system has failed: he's doing it because violent crime has theoretically met a critical point where battlefield ethics are the only practical ones.

From the photos here you can tell, that so far, it looks probably even cheaper than chips,(more Soylent-feckin-Green than Bladerunner) but let's remember that the last one looked great: and style is mere skin, and substance is flesh. Any reader of Dredd who expects their internal visions to be finally realised by this new film will be disappointed. But I reckon that there's every opportunity for a good 90 minutes entertainment here.

Any speculation is only so much faff anyway, whether you like the script or not: They're filming now and Judgement day is coming...

Also there's rumours of a Judge Anderson nude scene.
How bad?

All photos courtesy of 'animal' a spy on the set in Capetown, or 'kiwiurban'. Anderson by Bolland, and hilarious wanderly wagon mock up all me own work courtesy of microsoft paint.

John Wagner interveiw: LA times