In the past week, Amazon.com has quietly released two new products that are likely to significantly escalate the ongoing cold war between the technology world's three major superpowers.
Last week, Amazon opened an app store, offering free and paid applications for devices that run on Google's Android operating system and becoming the first direct challenger to Google's own Android Market.
That also fed rumors that Amazon is working on its own Android version of its already popular Kindle e-reader, which might just finally be the device that mounts a serious challenge to Apple's iPad.
Then, Monday night, Amazon rolled out its Amazon Cloud Player, which allows users to upload music and videos, which they can then play from any desktop or notebook computer's Web browser or, using Amazon's Cloud Player app, from any Android-powered smartphone or tablet device. Imagine accessing your entire MP3 collection from your work computer or your phone. You'll probably have to buy extra storage space to do it, even though Amazon offers 5 gigs free and another 20 GB with the purchase of any CD download. But now you can do just that.
And as the sun rose Tuesday morning, some tech pundits were wondering if Amazon's Cloud was about to rain all over Apple's iTunes.
Both Apple and Google are reportedly working on systems similar to the Amazon Cloud, but now they're playing catch-up. And Apple in particular isn't used to playing from behind.
Notice something interesting yet?
We're talking about the major players in consumer technology in 2011: a book retailer that branched out into digital media, a computer manufacturer that revived its fortunes by selling music and a company that started out with just a website that helped you find other websites. But who's missing from this list?
Microsoft.
Yes, Microsoft — the software giant that dominated personal computing for most of the past 20 years. The company that became so large and so powerful that its competitors accused it of being a monopoly. (How can you be a monopoly if you have competitors?) The Evil Empire targeted by lawsuits and justice departments in both the U.S. and Europe.
That Microsoft. You know, the one that barely seems relevant anymore.
Earlier this month, Microsoft announced it had discontinued its Zune music player. Launched in 2006, Zune was Microsoft's attempt to challenge Apple's iPod, but it came along far too late to make a dent in the market.
Microsoft just recently launched its own Windows 7 smartphone system, and from what I've seen it's not bad. But, once again, it's a bit late to Apple and Google's party.
Even if Microsoft still controls the lion's share of desktop operating systems, that's not a safe place to be when the future of computing looks a lot more like something you carry around in a backpack or purse.
In the end, the lawsuits and antitrust cases didn't really hurt Microsoft, but an inability to adapt did, which makes all that hand wringing about Microsoft's dominance back in the 1990s seem more than a little silly now. Dominance is fleeting.
Just ask Rupert Murdoch, who bought MySpace for $580 million in 2005 and then proceeded to mismanage the website into oblivion, allowing Facebook, which is not without its own annoyances, to become the social networking site of record. Now Murdoch's Newscorp is in talks with the music-video site Vevo for some kind of deal that might salvage something from Murdoch's investment.
MySpace and Microsoft became complacent, which is why they're no longer of any real consequence.
Meanwhile, Amazon, Google and Apple should consider themselves lucky they have each other to keep them all thinking about the future.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Culture Shock 03.17.11: Some jokes just aren't funny
There is a saying in showbiz: "Dying is easy, comedy is hard." But when people really are dying and suffering, comedy is even harder.
Stand-up comedian Gilbert Gottfried learned that this week after he tweeted several jokes about Japan's disastrous 9.0 earthquake and subsequent tsunami, which killed thousands of people, with thousands more still missing and nearly half a million homeless.
Gottfried had been the voice of the Aflac duck. That ended Monday, when the insurance company fired him because of his weekend remarks on Twitter. Aflac does 75 percent of its business in Japan, but I suspect the company would have fired him regardless. He not only crossed the line of good taste, he left it receding in his rear-view mirror.
One of Gottfried's least offensive tweets was, "Japan is really advanced. They don't go to the beach. The beach comes to them," so you can imagine how bad the rest were.
Gottfried has since apologized and removed the offending "jokes" from his Twitter feed.
"I sincerely apologize to anyone who was offended by my attempt at humor regarding the tragedy in Japan," he tweeted Tuesday. "I meant no disrespect, and my thoughts are with the victims and their families."
A few hours later, Gottfried was back in form, tweeting from the Friars Club roast of Donald Trump.
"Thank God Marlee Matlin can't hear any of this," he tweeted.
Now that's funny. The joke depends on Matlin's being deaf, which isn't funny, but the joke's target isn't her, rather it's the comedians at the roast. That makes all the difference between an "offensive" joke that's still funny and an offensive joke — without the scare quotes — that isn't.
Audiences expect comedians to walk that fine line. We expect them to say what some of us only think. And what we think sometimes isn't pretty.
Gottfried is one of stand-up comedy's brightest stars, and I've been a fan since he hosted "USA Up All Night" from 1986 to 1998, where, during commercial breaks, he got laughs at the expense of movies like "Hell Comes to Frogtown" and "Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama." Also, for what it's worth, he ranks 59th on Comedy Central's list of the 100 greatest stand-ups, placing him one spot ahead of Jeff Foxworthy.
Most people, however, probably know him as the voice of Iago in Disney's "Aladdin."
But his stage act almost always flirts with bad taste. His latest comedy CD and DVD, "Dirty Jokes," delivers exactly what the title promises.
And last weekend's incident isn't the first time Gottfried has gone too far.
Just weeks after the Sept. 11 attacks, Gottfried opened his routine at the Friars Club roast of Hugh Hefner with a 9/11 joke. That was too much even for jaded roast attendees, eliciting boos and a shout of "too soon."
Gottfried recalled that incident last month in an interview with the Las Vegas Sun: "When I figured I had completely lost them, there was nowhere to go but further down, I started telling ‘The Aristocrats,' and that just exploded. The whole place was cheering."
The Aristocrats is the filthiest joke in the world. It doesn't really have a punchline. It's all set-up — an escalating orgy of disgusting bodily functions and descriptions of sexual acts that would get you arrested in every state of the Union. The joke has a long history among stand-ups, and it seems like just about every comic has his own version. Bob Saget — yes, the dad from "Full House" — tells one of the more infamous ones. It is, as far as I know, the only joke to inspire a documentary film.
Gottfried's "Dirty Jokes" includes his 10-minute rendition of The Aristocrats.
The Aristocrats is obscene, but it doesn't really hurt anyone.
Gottfried's Japan jokes did.
If I were in charge at Aflac, I'd probably have fired Gottfried, too.
Yet this is, generally speaking, what we ask of comedians. We demand that they play with fire. And, usually, we're better off when they can say what no one else can — until they say what no one should.
Then we punish them for going too, too far.
Stand-up comedian Gilbert Gottfried learned that this week after he tweeted several jokes about Japan's disastrous 9.0 earthquake and subsequent tsunami, which killed thousands of people, with thousands more still missing and nearly half a million homeless.
Gottfried had been the voice of the Aflac duck. That ended Monday, when the insurance company fired him because of his weekend remarks on Twitter. Aflac does 75 percent of its business in Japan, but I suspect the company would have fired him regardless. He not only crossed the line of good taste, he left it receding in his rear-view mirror.
One of Gottfried's least offensive tweets was, "Japan is really advanced. They don't go to the beach. The beach comes to them," so you can imagine how bad the rest were.
Gottfried has since apologized and removed the offending "jokes" from his Twitter feed.
"I sincerely apologize to anyone who was offended by my attempt at humor regarding the tragedy in Japan," he tweeted Tuesday. "I meant no disrespect, and my thoughts are with the victims and their families."
A few hours later, Gottfried was back in form, tweeting from the Friars Club roast of Donald Trump.
"Thank God Marlee Matlin can't hear any of this," he tweeted.
Now that's funny. The joke depends on Matlin's being deaf, which isn't funny, but the joke's target isn't her, rather it's the comedians at the roast. That makes all the difference between an "offensive" joke that's still funny and an offensive joke — without the scare quotes — that isn't.
Audiences expect comedians to walk that fine line. We expect them to say what some of us only think. And what we think sometimes isn't pretty.
Gottfried is one of stand-up comedy's brightest stars, and I've been a fan since he hosted "USA Up All Night" from 1986 to 1998, where, during commercial breaks, he got laughs at the expense of movies like "Hell Comes to Frogtown" and "Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama." Also, for what it's worth, he ranks 59th on Comedy Central's list of the 100 greatest stand-ups, placing him one spot ahead of Jeff Foxworthy.
Most people, however, probably know him as the voice of Iago in Disney's "Aladdin."
But his stage act almost always flirts with bad taste. His latest comedy CD and DVD, "Dirty Jokes," delivers exactly what the title promises.
And last weekend's incident isn't the first time Gottfried has gone too far.
Just weeks after the Sept. 11 attacks, Gottfried opened his routine at the Friars Club roast of Hugh Hefner with a 9/11 joke. That was too much even for jaded roast attendees, eliciting boos and a shout of "too soon."
Gottfried recalled that incident last month in an interview with the Las Vegas Sun: "When I figured I had completely lost them, there was nowhere to go but further down, I started telling ‘The Aristocrats,' and that just exploded. The whole place was cheering."
The Aristocrats is the filthiest joke in the world. It doesn't really have a punchline. It's all set-up — an escalating orgy of disgusting bodily functions and descriptions of sexual acts that would get you arrested in every state of the Union. The joke has a long history among stand-ups, and it seems like just about every comic has his own version. Bob Saget — yes, the dad from "Full House" — tells one of the more infamous ones. It is, as far as I know, the only joke to inspire a documentary film.
Gottfried's "Dirty Jokes" includes his 10-minute rendition of The Aristocrats.
The Aristocrats is obscene, but it doesn't really hurt anyone.
Gottfried's Japan jokes did.
If I were in charge at Aflac, I'd probably have fired Gottfried, too.
Yet this is, generally speaking, what we ask of comedians. We demand that they play with fire. And, usually, we're better off when they can say what no one else can — until they say what no one should.
Then we punish them for going too, too far.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Culture Shock 03.10.11: 'Mockbuster' movies aren't what you think they are
This has probably happened to you. You go to the video store — back when there were video stores — and search the shelves for something worth renting, plus pay the late fee for when you forget to return it on time.
Something catches your eye. A glossy DVD cover staring back at you, emblazoned with a familiar name. Is it "Transformers," directed by the auteur of the explosion Michael Bay? No, that's still in theaters.
Instead, it's a low-budget knock-off titled "Transmorphers." Probably you chuckle, shake your head and move on. You're sure "Weekend at Bernie's 2" is around here somewhere.
But sometimes you pick the doppelganger DVD up, read the back cover and say to yourself, "Maybe this will be fun." And the next thing you know, you're home with a pizza, a six-pack of beer and the latest movie from Hollywood's most infamous studio, The Asylum.
Other movie studios make blockbusters. The Asylum makes what the entertainment press has dubbed "mockbusters" — thinly veiled knock-offs of major Hollywood movies, usually featuring no-name casts and not-at-all-special effects.
The Asylum's latest mockbuster release is "Almighty Thor," scheduled for DVD release May 10, just four days after Marvel Studios' big-budget "Thor," based on the long-running Marvel Comics superhero, hits theaters.
I tried to find the trailer for "Almighty Thor" online, but all I found was an interview the star, Cody Deal, gave to what looked like a public-access TV show in Kansas. Deal's previous roles include an uncredited Roman soldier at Caesar's Palace in "The Hangover." (Hey, you have to start somewhere, unless you're Charlie Sheen.)
Jack Kirby may have created Marvel's version of Thor, but the character has his roots in Norse mythology, making him up for grabs. Characters that have fallen into the public domain feature in several Asylum films. When Paramount released "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull," The Asylum cashed in with "Allan Quatermain and the Temple of Skulls." When Robert Downey Jr. starred in "Sherlock Holmes," The Asylum released its own "Sherlock Holmes." The Asylum didn't have Downey, but it did have CGI dinosaurs rampaging through Victorian London (don't ask).
The Asylum, founded in 1997, has been riding the coattails of blockbuster releases since 2005. That's when the studio's version of "War of the Worlds," released at the same time as Steven Spielberg's version, received an order of 100,000 copies from Blockbuster Video, about eight times the typical order Blockbuster placed for other Asylum releases, according to the New York Times.
That led the company's owners, who until then had focused on horror flicks, to reconsider their business model.
Studio founder David Michael Latt put it this way in his interview with the Times: "I'm not trying to dupe anybody. … Other people do tie-ins all the time; they're just better at being subtle about it."
Sometimes other studios aren't subtle either. Remember when for every Disney cartoon based on some old fairytale character there was a poorly animated, direct-to-video imitator? You couldn't go into a video store in the 1990s without running into them.
The Asylum also runs Faith Films, a label devoted to movies "that honestly portray subjects, themes and people of faith." But even some of the Faith Films releases tread into mockbuster territory, like "Sunday School Musical," which sounds a lot like "High School Musical."
"Almighty Thor" isn't the only mockbuster on The Asylum's schedule this year. The company will release "Battle of Los Angeles" later this month to coincide with the release of "Battle: Los Angeles," which already looks as dumb as the typical Asylum release, only way more expensive.
It's easy to mock Asylum's mockbusters. They lack the charm of past B movies where up-and-coming filmmakers often displayed genuine craftsmanship that propelled them to big-time careers. (Think of some of the people who worked for B-movie king Roger Corman.) But if The Asylum ever pits its Thor against its "Mega Shark" franchise, that'll probably be fun to watch.
And I'd rather watch a bad movie that cost less than $1 million to make than a bad movie Michael Bay spent $200 million making.
Something catches your eye. A glossy DVD cover staring back at you, emblazoned with a familiar name. Is it "Transformers," directed by the auteur of the explosion Michael Bay? No, that's still in theaters.
Instead, it's a low-budget knock-off titled "Transmorphers." Probably you chuckle, shake your head and move on. You're sure "Weekend at Bernie's 2" is around here somewhere.
But sometimes you pick the doppelganger DVD up, read the back cover and say to yourself, "Maybe this will be fun." And the next thing you know, you're home with a pizza, a six-pack of beer and the latest movie from Hollywood's most infamous studio, The Asylum.
Other movie studios make blockbusters. The Asylum makes what the entertainment press has dubbed "mockbusters" — thinly veiled knock-offs of major Hollywood movies, usually featuring no-name casts and not-at-all-special effects.
The Asylum's latest mockbuster release is "Almighty Thor," scheduled for DVD release May 10, just four days after Marvel Studios' big-budget "Thor," based on the long-running Marvel Comics superhero, hits theaters.
I tried to find the trailer for "Almighty Thor" online, but all I found was an interview the star, Cody Deal, gave to what looked like a public-access TV show in Kansas. Deal's previous roles include an uncredited Roman soldier at Caesar's Palace in "The Hangover." (Hey, you have to start somewhere, unless you're Charlie Sheen.)
Jack Kirby may have created Marvel's version of Thor, but the character has his roots in Norse mythology, making him up for grabs. Characters that have fallen into the public domain feature in several Asylum films. When Paramount released "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull," The Asylum cashed in with "Allan Quatermain and the Temple of Skulls." When Robert Downey Jr. starred in "Sherlock Holmes," The Asylum released its own "Sherlock Holmes." The Asylum didn't have Downey, but it did have CGI dinosaurs rampaging through Victorian London (don't ask).
The Asylum, founded in 1997, has been riding the coattails of blockbuster releases since 2005. That's when the studio's version of "War of the Worlds," released at the same time as Steven Spielberg's version, received an order of 100,000 copies from Blockbuster Video, about eight times the typical order Blockbuster placed for other Asylum releases, according to the New York Times.
That led the company's owners, who until then had focused on horror flicks, to reconsider their business model.
Studio founder David Michael Latt put it this way in his interview with the Times: "I'm not trying to dupe anybody. … Other people do tie-ins all the time; they're just better at being subtle about it."
Sometimes other studios aren't subtle either. Remember when for every Disney cartoon based on some old fairytale character there was a poorly animated, direct-to-video imitator? You couldn't go into a video store in the 1990s without running into them.
The Asylum also runs Faith Films, a label devoted to movies "that honestly portray subjects, themes and people of faith." But even some of the Faith Films releases tread into mockbuster territory, like "Sunday School Musical," which sounds a lot like "High School Musical."
"Almighty Thor" isn't the only mockbuster on The Asylum's schedule this year. The company will release "Battle of Los Angeles" later this month to coincide with the release of "Battle: Los Angeles," which already looks as dumb as the typical Asylum release, only way more expensive.
It's easy to mock Asylum's mockbusters. They lack the charm of past B movies where up-and-coming filmmakers often displayed genuine craftsmanship that propelled them to big-time careers. (Think of some of the people who worked for B-movie king Roger Corman.) But if The Asylum ever pits its Thor against its "Mega Shark" franchise, that'll probably be fun to watch.
And I'd rather watch a bad movie that cost less than $1 million to make than a bad movie Michael Bay spent $200 million making.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Culture Shock 03.03.11: 'Fringe' surviving (for now) the Friday death slot
Fox has a long history of canceling my favorite TV shows, strangling some newborn in the cradle and cutting others short just as they start to reach their prime.
No. I'm still not over the cancellations of "Firefly" and "Arrested Development." Thanks for asking. Although I am amazed "Arrested Development" got a whole 2½ seasons from the notoriously trigger-happy network. And that second season of "Dollhouse" was a pleasant surprise, especially since a lot of series creator Joss Whedon's fans even had trouble warming up to it.
But it may be about to happen again, so I want to be on the record in advance.
If Fox cancels "Fringe," it will be canceling the best show on television and, apart from "House" — now there's one show Fox isn't threatening to ax — my only must-see TV this season.
As a science-fiction series on Fox, "Fringe" has already beaten the odds. It's now in its third season. But in January, Fox moved "Fringe" to Friday nights, otherwise known as the "Friday night death slot," which, according to its Wikipedia entry, has been killing TV shows since the original "Star Trek."
In the 1980s, Friday nights were the domain of ratings juggernauts like "Dallas" and "Miami Vice," which dispatched all would-be competitors the way Crockett and Tubbs dispatched speedboats full of cocaine — explosively and without remorse. Another groundbreaking sci-fi series, "Max Headroom," fell prey to the death slot in 1988, lasting only 14 episodes.
Now, however, Friday night is a virtual death sentence for any show, simply because not enough people are home to watch, and the major broadcast networks still give less weight to viewers who watch later on DVR. (They know we fast-forward through the commercials.)
For now, "Fringe" is holding its own, drawing 4 million viewers and a 1.5 rating among adults age 18 to 49 for its most recent episode.
That's down from the 1.9 rating the series earned during its first two weeks on Friday nights, but up from a couple of weeks ago. So, with any luck, "Fringe" will trend back up as it nears its season finale.
Yet even that may not be enough.
"Fringe" is fighting for dwindling space on Fox's fall lineup. Bill Gorman of tvbythenumbers.com has run the numbers, and with all of the pilots it has ordered and plus returning shows, Fox is quickly running out of room on its schedule, leaving "Fringe" competing with freshman cop drama "The Chicago Code" for what could be the last seat in the lifeboat.
Personally, I'd just as soon see "The Chicago Code" sent to the morgue. That's the Chicago way. Besides, who is going to miss yet another cop show?
Science fiction television, meanwhile, is an endangered species. Sure, you can find fantasy and paranormal romance aplenty across the dial, but you have to search to find real, honest SF, even on the cable channel — which shall remain nameless — formerly devoted to it. Hint: The channel's name is still pronounced sci-fi.
Admittedly, "Fringe" demands a lot of its viewers, which is exactly why it's such great television. The show frequently shifts its focus to an alternate Earth, where we're confronted with different versions of familiar characters — versions who are not necessarily nice. That alternate universe also has given us a love triangle involving two versions of the same character. And if two Earths aren't enough, Fringe sometimes shifts in time. Last week's episode was a flashback set in 1985, and the two lead actors didn't even appear.
It's great storytelling, but it's anything but typical, comfortable TV viewing. So, I should probably just be happy "Fringe" has had three good seasons.
But I'd rather know how the story ends.
No. I'm still not over the cancellations of "Firefly" and "Arrested Development." Thanks for asking. Although I am amazed "Arrested Development" got a whole 2½ seasons from the notoriously trigger-happy network. And that second season of "Dollhouse" was a pleasant surprise, especially since a lot of series creator Joss Whedon's fans even had trouble warming up to it.
But it may be about to happen again, so I want to be on the record in advance.
If Fox cancels "Fringe," it will be canceling the best show on television and, apart from "House" — now there's one show Fox isn't threatening to ax — my only must-see TV this season.
As a science-fiction series on Fox, "Fringe" has already beaten the odds. It's now in its third season. But in January, Fox moved "Fringe" to Friday nights, otherwise known as the "Friday night death slot," which, according to its Wikipedia entry, has been killing TV shows since the original "Star Trek."
In the 1980s, Friday nights were the domain of ratings juggernauts like "Dallas" and "Miami Vice," which dispatched all would-be competitors the way Crockett and Tubbs dispatched speedboats full of cocaine — explosively and without remorse. Another groundbreaking sci-fi series, "Max Headroom," fell prey to the death slot in 1988, lasting only 14 episodes.
Now, however, Friday night is a virtual death sentence for any show, simply because not enough people are home to watch, and the major broadcast networks still give less weight to viewers who watch later on DVR. (They know we fast-forward through the commercials.)
For now, "Fringe" is holding its own, drawing 4 million viewers and a 1.5 rating among adults age 18 to 49 for its most recent episode.
That's down from the 1.9 rating the series earned during its first two weeks on Friday nights, but up from a couple of weeks ago. So, with any luck, "Fringe" will trend back up as it nears its season finale.
Yet even that may not be enough.
"Fringe" is fighting for dwindling space on Fox's fall lineup. Bill Gorman of tvbythenumbers.com has run the numbers, and with all of the pilots it has ordered and plus returning shows, Fox is quickly running out of room on its schedule, leaving "Fringe" competing with freshman cop drama "The Chicago Code" for what could be the last seat in the lifeboat.
Personally, I'd just as soon see "The Chicago Code" sent to the morgue. That's the Chicago way. Besides, who is going to miss yet another cop show?
Science fiction television, meanwhile, is an endangered species. Sure, you can find fantasy and paranormal romance aplenty across the dial, but you have to search to find real, honest SF, even on the cable channel — which shall remain nameless — formerly devoted to it. Hint: The channel's name is still pronounced sci-fi.
Admittedly, "Fringe" demands a lot of its viewers, which is exactly why it's such great television. The show frequently shifts its focus to an alternate Earth, where we're confronted with different versions of familiar characters — versions who are not necessarily nice. That alternate universe also has given us a love triangle involving two versions of the same character. And if two Earths aren't enough, Fringe sometimes shifts in time. Last week's episode was a flashback set in 1985, and the two lead actors didn't even appear.
It's great storytelling, but it's anything but typical, comfortable TV viewing. So, I should probably just be happy "Fringe" has had three good seasons.
But I'd rather know how the story ends.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Culture Shock 02.24.11: Catching up with the in-box — Rand, X-Men, notable deaths
I'm going to catch up this week with some odds and ends from my in-box.
First, the trailer for "Atlas Shrugged: Part 1," adapting the first third of Ayn Rand's best-selling novel, hit the Internet a couple of weeks ago. That was a surprise to those of us who thought the movie might never be released.
With a budget of just $5 million and a cast of TV actors — some very good, but none household names — "Atlas Shrugged: Part 1" looked like a movie rushed into production just so the producer could retain the film rights, which were to expire the week cameras rolled.
Whether or not that was entirely the case, we now have a movie, and it's not going straight into a vault to gather dust.
Based on the preview trailer, "Atlas Shrugged" doesn't look as cheap as I'd feared, but it still looks more like a TV movie than a big-screen epic. And by focusing on scenes in which characters talk about steel mills and railroads, the trailer is not going to appeal to anyone who isn't familiar with Rand's story, which pits heroic entrepreneurs against big government.
You can see the trailer for yourself at www.atlasshruggedpart1 .com.
The movie is scheduled for limited release on, appropriately, April 15.
Another trailer that has defied my expectations is the one for "X-Men: First Class," the prequel to the movie series based on Marvel Comics' "Uncanny X-Men."
Marvel Studios has two movies of its own due out this summer, "Thor" and "Captain America: The First Avenger." But so far, "X-Men: First Class" — produced by 20th Century Fox under a deal that predates Marvel making its own films — looks more interesting than either of them.
Many longtime fans are not going to be happy. "X-Men: First Class" plays loose with established "X-Men" lore. And despite being a prequel to the three previous "X-Men" films, it doesn't really maintain continuity with them, either.
But I'm prepared to let "X-Men: First Class" be its own thing. And it looks like a groovy, 1960s period piece with lots of mod fashions. Now that's something you don't get out of most superhero movies.
The past two weeks have also brought three deaths of note.
Staying in the world of superheroes, writer Dwayne McDuffie died unexpectedly Monday. He was just 49.
McDuffie was the founder of Milestone Comics, an African-American-owned comic-book publisher, distributed and later absorbed by DC Comics. Later, he went to work for Cartoon Network, writing and producing shows like "Justice League Unlimited" — my pick for greatest superhero cartoon ever — and "Ben 10: Alien Force."
David F. Friedman died on Valentine's Day at age 87. A native of Birmingham who had retired to Anniston, Friedman was a groundbreaking low-budget movie producer. He is often credited with producing the first "gore" film, 1963's "Blood Feast," which earned $4 million on a budget of about $25,000.
He produced nearly 50 films, from "Two Thousand Maniacs" to "Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS" (under a pseudonym) to, finally, 2010's "2001 Maniacs: Field of Screams."
Finally, British actor Nicholas Courtney died Tuesday at 81.
In a career that included playing many authority figures, none was more authoritative than Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, commanding officer of UNIT during the original 1963-1989 run of "Doctor Who."
Although he didn't travel with The Doctor through space and time, he spent more time with The Doctor than any other of the Time Lord's many companions. Through most of the 1970s, he was as much a part of the show as The Doctor himself, and he returned to the role of the Brigadier one last time in 2008, on an episode of the "Doctor Who" spin-off "The Sarah Jane Adventures."
All three will be missed.
First, the trailer for "Atlas Shrugged: Part 1," adapting the first third of Ayn Rand's best-selling novel, hit the Internet a couple of weeks ago. That was a surprise to those of us who thought the movie might never be released.
With a budget of just $5 million and a cast of TV actors — some very good, but none household names — "Atlas Shrugged: Part 1" looked like a movie rushed into production just so the producer could retain the film rights, which were to expire the week cameras rolled.
Whether or not that was entirely the case, we now have a movie, and it's not going straight into a vault to gather dust.
Based on the preview trailer, "Atlas Shrugged" doesn't look as cheap as I'd feared, but it still looks more like a TV movie than a big-screen epic. And by focusing on scenes in which characters talk about steel mills and railroads, the trailer is not going to appeal to anyone who isn't familiar with Rand's story, which pits heroic entrepreneurs against big government.
You can see the trailer for yourself at www.atlasshruggedpart1 .com.
The movie is scheduled for limited release on, appropriately, April 15.
Another trailer that has defied my expectations is the one for "X-Men: First Class," the prequel to the movie series based on Marvel Comics' "Uncanny X-Men."
Marvel Studios has two movies of its own due out this summer, "Thor" and "Captain America: The First Avenger." But so far, "X-Men: First Class" — produced by 20th Century Fox under a deal that predates Marvel making its own films — looks more interesting than either of them.
Many longtime fans are not going to be happy. "X-Men: First Class" plays loose with established "X-Men" lore. And despite being a prequel to the three previous "X-Men" films, it doesn't really maintain continuity with them, either.
But I'm prepared to let "X-Men: First Class" be its own thing. And it looks like a groovy, 1960s period piece with lots of mod fashions. Now that's something you don't get out of most superhero movies.
The past two weeks have also brought three deaths of note.
Staying in the world of superheroes, writer Dwayne McDuffie died unexpectedly Monday. He was just 49.
McDuffie was the founder of Milestone Comics, an African-American-owned comic-book publisher, distributed and later absorbed by DC Comics. Later, he went to work for Cartoon Network, writing and producing shows like "Justice League Unlimited" — my pick for greatest superhero cartoon ever — and "Ben 10: Alien Force."
David F. Friedman died on Valentine's Day at age 87. A native of Birmingham who had retired to Anniston, Friedman was a groundbreaking low-budget movie producer. He is often credited with producing the first "gore" film, 1963's "Blood Feast," which earned $4 million on a budget of about $25,000.
He produced nearly 50 films, from "Two Thousand Maniacs" to "Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS" (under a pseudonym) to, finally, 2010's "2001 Maniacs: Field of Screams."
Finally, British actor Nicholas Courtney died Tuesday at 81.
In a career that included playing many authority figures, none was more authoritative than Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, commanding officer of UNIT during the original 1963-1989 run of "Doctor Who."
Although he didn't travel with The Doctor through space and time, he spent more time with The Doctor than any other of the Time Lord's many companions. Through most of the 1970s, he was as much a part of the show as The Doctor himself, and he returned to the role of the Brigadier one last time in 2008, on an episode of the "Doctor Who" spin-off "The Sarah Jane Adventures."
All three will be missed.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Culture Shock 02.17.11: Angry Bieber fans strike back after Grammys
The Internet contracted an acute case of Tourette syndrome Sunday night as fans of Justin Bieber — more than 7 million of them, based on his number of Twitter followers, and mostly 12-year-olds, judging by their spelling and grammar — tweeted their outrage after their Canadian idol lost the best new artist Grammy award.
Not only did the world's most annoying pop star go home empty-handed, but his even-more-annoying fans — called, more annoying still, "Beliebers" — took it really, really hard. Best of all, Bieber lost to a relatively unknown jazz performer, Esperanza Spalding, whose self-titled CD was on my iPod long before the true Beliebers were shouting, "Who is Esperanza Spalding?"
Who is Esperanza Spalding? She's the woman who stopped the motor of Bieber's world. A talented vocalist, bassist and composer, she's the first jazz artist ever to win the best new artist Grammy.
So, an artist I like, who performs my favorite style of music, emerged to beat Bieber and become the walking nightmare for daydream Beliebers everywhere.
That's what I call schadenfreude.
Your word of the day: Schadenfreude, noun: from the German, meaning enjoyment obtained from the misfortunes of others.
And, man, the Bieber fans were troubled. Their rage-filled, all-caps tweets made news nationwide.
They tried to deface Spalding's Wikipedia page. And 24 hours after the Grammys ended, "Esperanza Spalding" was still a trending topic on Twitter as Bieber fans still pretended not to know who she was.
Grammy voters are often quick to snub a popular but overrated artist in favor of rewarding a performer with real talent. This year, bless their hearts, they did it twice.
For the third time, Eminem was up for album of the year. And for the third time, someone totally unexpected snatched it away from him. In 2001, it was old-timers Steely Dan. In 2003, it was newcomer Norah Jones. And this year it was the Canadian indie rock band Arcade Fire.
Although lacking the passion of the Bieber brigades, the Twitter hacks were back at it, this time tweeting, "Arcade who???"
I realize musical audiences are more fragmented than ever. I'd never heard of Lady Antebellum until Sunday. But Arcade Fire isn't that obscure.
Yet even Twitter's semi-famous were perplexed.
"OK, Im not THAT old but whos Arcade Fire?" tweeted Tawny Kitaen, best known for appearing in music videos for the band Whitesnake in the 1980s and appearing on "Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew" a few years ago.
Tweeted Rosie O'Donnell: "album of the year? never heard of them ever."
Oh, if only I could say the same of you, Rosie.
Even A&E "reality" star Duane "Dog the Bounty Hunter" Chapman — apparently a closet Belieber, too — weighed in with his ignorance, which I imagine happens a lot.
This makes three times the Grammys have rewarded performers I love — especially Steely Dan — while denying Eminem. Each time, the rest of the world has run around screaming "Eminem was robbed!" This time, it was instantly, and ungrammatically, on Twitter.
Meanwhile, I just sit back and listen to the new Esperanza Spalding CD, "Chamber Music Society."
Now that's worth writing about.
Not only did the world's most annoying pop star go home empty-handed, but his even-more-annoying fans — called, more annoying still, "Beliebers" — took it really, really hard. Best of all, Bieber lost to a relatively unknown jazz performer, Esperanza Spalding, whose self-titled CD was on my iPod long before the true Beliebers were shouting, "Who is Esperanza Spalding?"
Who is Esperanza Spalding? She's the woman who stopped the motor of Bieber's world. A talented vocalist, bassist and composer, she's the first jazz artist ever to win the best new artist Grammy.
So, an artist I like, who performs my favorite style of music, emerged to beat Bieber and become the walking nightmare for daydream Beliebers everywhere.
That's what I call schadenfreude.
Your word of the day: Schadenfreude, noun: from the German, meaning enjoyment obtained from the misfortunes of others.
And, man, the Bieber fans were troubled. Their rage-filled, all-caps tweets made news nationwide.
They tried to deface Spalding's Wikipedia page. And 24 hours after the Grammys ended, "Esperanza Spalding" was still a trending topic on Twitter as Bieber fans still pretended not to know who she was.
Grammy voters are often quick to snub a popular but overrated artist in favor of rewarding a performer with real talent. This year, bless their hearts, they did it twice.
For the third time, Eminem was up for album of the year. And for the third time, someone totally unexpected snatched it away from him. In 2001, it was old-timers Steely Dan. In 2003, it was newcomer Norah Jones. And this year it was the Canadian indie rock band Arcade Fire.
Although lacking the passion of the Bieber brigades, the Twitter hacks were back at it, this time tweeting, "Arcade who???"
I realize musical audiences are more fragmented than ever. I'd never heard of Lady Antebellum until Sunday. But Arcade Fire isn't that obscure.
Yet even Twitter's semi-famous were perplexed.
"OK, Im not THAT old but whos Arcade Fire?" tweeted Tawny Kitaen, best known for appearing in music videos for the band Whitesnake in the 1980s and appearing on "Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew" a few years ago.
Tweeted Rosie O'Donnell: "album of the year? never heard of them ever."
Oh, if only I could say the same of you, Rosie.
Even A&E "reality" star Duane "Dog the Bounty Hunter" Chapman — apparently a closet Belieber, too — weighed in with his ignorance, which I imagine happens a lot.
This makes three times the Grammys have rewarded performers I love — especially Steely Dan — while denying Eminem. Each time, the rest of the world has run around screaming "Eminem was robbed!" This time, it was instantly, and ungrammatically, on Twitter.
Meanwhile, I just sit back and listen to the new Esperanza Spalding CD, "Chamber Music Society."
Now that's worth writing about.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Culture Shock 02.10.11: Reading is about to change forever
A few years ago, I spent most every weekend rummaging through the upstairs stacks at this used bookshop in downtown Athens, across the street from the Limestone County Courthouse.
After a few months, I'd assembled a complete set of old "Conan: The Barbarian" paperbacks containing the original stories by Robert E. Howard. I also found most, but not all, of the then out-of-print "John Carter: Warlord of Mars" novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
The hunt was almost as important as the prize, as I imagine collectors who thumb through boxes at flea markets and yard sales for rare LPs and overlooked baseball cards would agree. But that bookshop is now gone, and the experience of hunting for used books may not be far behind.
Now I can find all of those John Carter stories for my Kindle, and they cost anywhere from a couple of dollars to free. Click, and it's done. It's convenient, but it lacks the romance of upsetting your allergies as you blow dust off a brittle, yellowed paperback someone else bought for 75 cents in 1972.
Amazon.com announced last month that it sold more Kindle books than either paperbacks or hardcover books in the fourth quarter of 2010.
That's not counting the public-domain e-books Amazon offers free of charge.
Brick-and-mortar bookseller Barnes & Noble's quick adoption of its own e-book reader, the Nook, has helped it avoid the fate of longtime rival, Borders. (Birmingham-based Books-A-Million has thrown in with B&N and now offers the Nook.)
Borders, meanwhile, is likely bound for bankruptcy. While Amazon raked in $200 million more in 2010 than it did in 2009 — no recession here — Borders was hard at work losing $74.4 million in just the fourth quarter.
It's easy to get nostalgic about books. I get nostalgic about lots of things, like the orange-and-brown earth tones of 1970s kitchen appliances. But like it or not, the electronic book is making dog-eared pages and creased spines obsolete. And I can think of some reasons why that's for the better.
Beyond-Black-Friday.com, a blog that follows Kindle news, directed me to a Tampa Tribune story about a Florida school district that spent $400,000 to buy Kindles for its students. The district will get some of that back in savings; electronic textbooks run $15 less than traditional ones. Plus, there's the bonus of Clearwater High's students getting to carry slim, lightweight electronic readers instead of lugging around heavy backpacks.
But probably the greatest long-term advantage is an e-book gives students instant — and often free — access to thousands of works that are in the public domain. That includes most of what students read in their high-school literature classes, from Shakespeare to "Moby Dick."
It's a lot of free material that can replace students buying books with their own money, which is what I did when I was in high school. (I certainly wouldn't pay for "Moby Dick" if I didn't have to.)
E-books will also radically change libraries. The New York Public Library's website features e-books for iPads, PCs, Sony Readers and Android-powered devices. Companies like Cleveland-based OverDrive offer software allowing library patrons to check out e-books for a limited time. The Jefferson County Library Cooperative uses OverDrive's system.
The world is full of free and inexpensive e-books. And devices like the Nook and Kindle are about to put them into more hands than ever.
After a few months, I'd assembled a complete set of old "Conan: The Barbarian" paperbacks containing the original stories by Robert E. Howard. I also found most, but not all, of the then out-of-print "John Carter: Warlord of Mars" novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
The hunt was almost as important as the prize, as I imagine collectors who thumb through boxes at flea markets and yard sales for rare LPs and overlooked baseball cards would agree. But that bookshop is now gone, and the experience of hunting for used books may not be far behind.
Now I can find all of those John Carter stories for my Kindle, and they cost anywhere from a couple of dollars to free. Click, and it's done. It's convenient, but it lacks the romance of upsetting your allergies as you blow dust off a brittle, yellowed paperback someone else bought for 75 cents in 1972.
Amazon.com announced last month that it sold more Kindle books than either paperbacks or hardcover books in the fourth quarter of 2010.
That's not counting the public-domain e-books Amazon offers free of charge.
Brick-and-mortar bookseller Barnes & Noble's quick adoption of its own e-book reader, the Nook, has helped it avoid the fate of longtime rival, Borders. (Birmingham-based Books-A-Million has thrown in with B&N and now offers the Nook.)
Borders, meanwhile, is likely bound for bankruptcy. While Amazon raked in $200 million more in 2010 than it did in 2009 — no recession here — Borders was hard at work losing $74.4 million in just the fourth quarter.
It's easy to get nostalgic about books. I get nostalgic about lots of things, like the orange-and-brown earth tones of 1970s kitchen appliances. But like it or not, the electronic book is making dog-eared pages and creased spines obsolete. And I can think of some reasons why that's for the better.
Beyond-Black-Friday.com, a blog that follows Kindle news, directed me to a Tampa Tribune story about a Florida school district that spent $400,000 to buy Kindles for its students. The district will get some of that back in savings; electronic textbooks run $15 less than traditional ones. Plus, there's the bonus of Clearwater High's students getting to carry slim, lightweight electronic readers instead of lugging around heavy backpacks.
But probably the greatest long-term advantage is an e-book gives students instant — and often free — access to thousands of works that are in the public domain. That includes most of what students read in their high-school literature classes, from Shakespeare to "Moby Dick."
It's a lot of free material that can replace students buying books with their own money, which is what I did when I was in high school. (I certainly wouldn't pay for "Moby Dick" if I didn't have to.)
E-books will also radically change libraries. The New York Public Library's website features e-books for iPads, PCs, Sony Readers and Android-powered devices. Companies like Cleveland-based OverDrive offer software allowing library patrons to check out e-books for a limited time. The Jefferson County Library Cooperative uses OverDrive's system.
The world is full of free and inexpensive e-books. And devices like the Nook and Kindle are about to put them into more hands than ever.
Thursday, February 03, 2011
Culture Shock 02.03.11: Poe's life is even stranger as fiction
More than 200 years after his birth, and more than 160 years after his still-mysterious death, Edgar Allan Poe is alive and well — as a fictional character.
A movie starring America’s most iconic literary figure is now in post-production. Meanwhile, ABC has ordered a pilot episode for what could become a prime-time series with Poe as the main character.
Poe’s life certainly has all the elements of a good story: The troubled relationship with his family, especially his foster father; The tortured poet who struggled with alcoholism and despair following the premature death of his young wife (who was also his first cousin); The artist who was better known and more widely respected during his lifetime for his criticism than his verse; The death at age 40, often attributed to alcoholism, after Poe was discovered disheveled and incoherent on the streets of Baltimore.
But it seems even that tale is not fantastical enough — not for Poe, the man whose own fantastical tales are among the most popular and influential in American letters.
The movie, titled "The Raven" after Poe’s most famous poem, is directed by James McTeigue ("V for Vendetta") and stars John Cusack ("High Fidelity") as our good author, who must track down a serial killer inspired by his works.
The TV pilot, "Poe," follows a similar formula, envisioning Poe as a detective. ABC describes the show as a "crime procedural following Edgar Allan Poe as the world’s very first detective, using unconventional methods to investigate dark mysteries in 1840s Boston."
An unconventional detective? Now there’s a novel idea.
The Boston locale has some in Poe’s final resting place of Baltimore feeling slighted. One, The Baltimore Sun’s Michael Sragow, retaliated by citing the historically frosty relationship between Poe and his birthplace: "Poe had such a contentious relationship with the scribes of his native city that it took until 2009 for Boston to designate ‘Poe Square’ near the writer’s birthplace."
To complicate matters, Poe was raised in Virginia and "sometimes posed as the Southern gentleman," writes J. Lasley Dameron in "The Encyclopedia of Southern Culture."
Perhaps someday there will be a "Young Edgar Allan Poe Adventures" set in Richmond.
But whether or not Boston is the appropriate setting, Poe as a detective isn’t a new idea — it’s been around since at least the 1940s — and it’s not totally off the mark. Poe may not have been the world’s first detective, but he did invent him: C. Auguste Dupin, who appeared in three of Poe’s stories, including the classic "Murders in the Rue Morgue," credited as the first detective story and published more than four decades before Sherlock Holmes’ debut.
The fictional Poe has had a career almost as noteworthy as his real-life inspiration’s. Apart from being a detective, he’s been a Confederate general in a story by Walter Jon Williams ("No Spot of Ground") and a vampire with a chronic case of writer’s block.
In Kim Newman’s "Anno Dracula" novels, Poe survives into the 20th century after becoming a vampire in the 1840s. He first appears in the second book "The Bloody Red Baron," a retelling of World War I with Germany led by Dracula and a cast of both historical figures and fictional characters from works of the period. It’s like "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen," only no one has made a terrible movie based on it yet.
By the third novel, "Dracula Cha Cha Cha" (aka "Judgment of Tears"), set in 1959, Poe is calling himself Eddie Poe and is in Italy working as a screenwriter.
Here’s an idea: Edgar Allan Poe as a Hollywood screenwriter writing TV shows about himself as a vampire detective. I’d watch that.
A movie starring America’s most iconic literary figure is now in post-production. Meanwhile, ABC has ordered a pilot episode for what could become a prime-time series with Poe as the main character.
Poe’s life certainly has all the elements of a good story: The troubled relationship with his family, especially his foster father; The tortured poet who struggled with alcoholism and despair following the premature death of his young wife (who was also his first cousin); The artist who was better known and more widely respected during his lifetime for his criticism than his verse; The death at age 40, often attributed to alcoholism, after Poe was discovered disheveled and incoherent on the streets of Baltimore.
But it seems even that tale is not fantastical enough — not for Poe, the man whose own fantastical tales are among the most popular and influential in American letters.
The movie, titled "The Raven" after Poe’s most famous poem, is directed by James McTeigue ("V for Vendetta") and stars John Cusack ("High Fidelity") as our good author, who must track down a serial killer inspired by his works.
The TV pilot, "Poe," follows a similar formula, envisioning Poe as a detective. ABC describes the show as a "crime procedural following Edgar Allan Poe as the world’s very first detective, using unconventional methods to investigate dark mysteries in 1840s Boston."
An unconventional detective? Now there’s a novel idea.
The Boston locale has some in Poe’s final resting place of Baltimore feeling slighted. One, The Baltimore Sun’s Michael Sragow, retaliated by citing the historically frosty relationship between Poe and his birthplace: "Poe had such a contentious relationship with the scribes of his native city that it took until 2009 for Boston to designate ‘Poe Square’ near the writer’s birthplace."
To complicate matters, Poe was raised in Virginia and "sometimes posed as the Southern gentleman," writes J. Lasley Dameron in "The Encyclopedia of Southern Culture."
Perhaps someday there will be a "Young Edgar Allan Poe Adventures" set in Richmond.
But whether or not Boston is the appropriate setting, Poe as a detective isn’t a new idea — it’s been around since at least the 1940s — and it’s not totally off the mark. Poe may not have been the world’s first detective, but he did invent him: C. Auguste Dupin, who appeared in three of Poe’s stories, including the classic "Murders in the Rue Morgue," credited as the first detective story and published more than four decades before Sherlock Holmes’ debut.
The fictional Poe has had a career almost as noteworthy as his real-life inspiration’s. Apart from being a detective, he’s been a Confederate general in a story by Walter Jon Williams ("No Spot of Ground") and a vampire with a chronic case of writer’s block.
In Kim Newman’s "Anno Dracula" novels, Poe survives into the 20th century after becoming a vampire in the 1840s. He first appears in the second book "The Bloody Red Baron," a retelling of World War I with Germany led by Dracula and a cast of both historical figures and fictional characters from works of the period. It’s like "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen," only no one has made a terrible movie based on it yet.
By the third novel, "Dracula Cha Cha Cha" (aka "Judgment of Tears"), set in 1959, Poe is calling himself Eddie Poe and is in Italy working as a screenwriter.
Here’s an idea: Edgar Allan Poe as a Hollywood screenwriter writing TV shows about himself as a vampire detective. I’d watch that.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Culture Shock 01.27.11: Death isn't really even trying anymore
Ever since "Star Trek III: The Search for Spock" proved you couldn't keep an iconic sci-fi/fantasy character down, death has pretty much been a revolving door.
So, I wasn't too upset when The Associated Press spoiled the week's big superhero news by revealing — a day before the comic book hit the shelves — which member of the Fantastic Four was fated to die this week.
Spoilers: The Human Torch has flamed out.
OK, it wasn't too big a surprise, anyway. It was his turn. By my count, every other member of the Fantastic Four has either died or been presumed dead at least once. Most recently, the Thing died only for his teammates to break into heaven and convince God himself — who looks suspiciously like Fantastic Four co-creator Jack Kirby — to bring the Thing back to life.
Johnny Storm's hot-headed alter ego was the only FF member who hadn't yet danced with the Grim Reaper. Now he has. So it goes.
Rest assured, however, that Johnny will be back. They almost always come back, even characters who are supposedly dead for good.
An old joke among comic-book fans is that no one in comics stays dead except Captain America's WWII sidekick Bucky, Batman's second sidekick Jason Todd and Spider-Man's Uncle Ben. At least that was the joke until Bucky and Jason both returned — and the less said about how Jason returned, the better. Only poor Uncle Ben remains a stiff, just to make sure Spider-Man never forgets that with great power comes great responsibility.
Bucky's return was especially fortuitous. He came back just in time to become the new Captain America when the original, Steve Rogers, died.
And not too long after Jason Todd returned, Batman kicked the bucket, too. But everyone still hates Jason — his death two decades ago was a contract hit ordered by readers who called a 900 number — so the original Robin, Dick Grayson, took Bruce Wayne's place instead.
Not that any of that matters, because Steve Rogers and Bruce Wayne are both back from the grave, and currently there are two Captain Americas (although Steve isn't using the name or costume) and two Batmans running around. And that probably means somebody else is going to have to die soon.
This all started in 1992, when DC Comics discovered it could sell a lot of books by somehow convincing people that it was really and truly killing off its flagship character. "The Death of Superman" was a big hit for DC and generated lots of free publicity.
Superman returned a year later, but since then, more characters than I can possibly recall have died and gotten better. Here's a sample:
Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), the Flash (Barry Allen), Kid Flash, Superboy, Wonder Woman, and — from just among the X-Men — Colossus, Cyclops, Psylocke and Magneto.
At least two major X-Men characters, Nightcrawler and Jean Grey, are currently dead. But Jean is the Phoenix, and it's a running joke that she keeps coming back no matter how many times she dies. It's implied right there in her codename. It's her super power. (If only she had the superhuman ability to make the third X-Men movie watchable.)
DC Comics is even in the middle of a miniseries, "Brightest Day," that is specifically about characters who have died and come back: Aquaman, the Martian Manhunter, Hawkman and Hawkgirl, etc. It's really becoming ridiculous, and there are lots of characters I'm leaving out.
It's even spilling over to television. Just a week ago, the proposed Wonder Woman TV series from producer David E. Kelley was dead, having been rejected by every network. This week, it's alive and well at NBC.
So, yeah. The Human Torch died. And that was news — for a day.
So, I wasn't too upset when The Associated Press spoiled the week's big superhero news by revealing — a day before the comic book hit the shelves — which member of the Fantastic Four was fated to die this week.
Spoilers: The Human Torch has flamed out.
OK, it wasn't too big a surprise, anyway. It was his turn. By my count, every other member of the Fantastic Four has either died or been presumed dead at least once. Most recently, the Thing died only for his teammates to break into heaven and convince God himself — who looks suspiciously like Fantastic Four co-creator Jack Kirby — to bring the Thing back to life.
Johnny Storm's hot-headed alter ego was the only FF member who hadn't yet danced with the Grim Reaper. Now he has. So it goes.
Rest assured, however, that Johnny will be back. They almost always come back, even characters who are supposedly dead for good.
An old joke among comic-book fans is that no one in comics stays dead except Captain America's WWII sidekick Bucky, Batman's second sidekick Jason Todd and Spider-Man's Uncle Ben. At least that was the joke until Bucky and Jason both returned — and the less said about how Jason returned, the better. Only poor Uncle Ben remains a stiff, just to make sure Spider-Man never forgets that with great power comes great responsibility.
Bucky's return was especially fortuitous. He came back just in time to become the new Captain America when the original, Steve Rogers, died.
And not too long after Jason Todd returned, Batman kicked the bucket, too. But everyone still hates Jason — his death two decades ago was a contract hit ordered by readers who called a 900 number — so the original Robin, Dick Grayson, took Bruce Wayne's place instead.
Not that any of that matters, because Steve Rogers and Bruce Wayne are both back from the grave, and currently there are two Captain Americas (although Steve isn't using the name or costume) and two Batmans running around. And that probably means somebody else is going to have to die soon.
This all started in 1992, when DC Comics discovered it could sell a lot of books by somehow convincing people that it was really and truly killing off its flagship character. "The Death of Superman" was a big hit for DC and generated lots of free publicity.
Superman returned a year later, but since then, more characters than I can possibly recall have died and gotten better. Here's a sample:
Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), the Flash (Barry Allen), Kid Flash, Superboy, Wonder Woman, and — from just among the X-Men — Colossus, Cyclops, Psylocke and Magneto.
At least two major X-Men characters, Nightcrawler and Jean Grey, are currently dead. But Jean is the Phoenix, and it's a running joke that she keeps coming back no matter how many times she dies. It's implied right there in her codename. It's her super power. (If only she had the superhuman ability to make the third X-Men movie watchable.)
DC Comics is even in the middle of a miniseries, "Brightest Day," that is specifically about characters who have died and come back: Aquaman, the Martian Manhunter, Hawkman and Hawkgirl, etc. It's really becoming ridiculous, and there are lots of characters I'm leaving out.
It's even spilling over to television. Just a week ago, the proposed Wonder Woman TV series from producer David E. Kelley was dead, having been rejected by every network. This week, it's alive and well at NBC.
So, yeah. The Human Torch died. And that was news — for a day.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Culture Shock 01.20.11: Voice-over announcers are unsung heroes (it's harder than it sounds)
Long after he alienated almost every producer in Hollywood, Orson Welles became even more infamous for taking almost any acting job that came along.
Welles was hoping to funnel some extra cash into his growing list of unfinished movies. He never did. But he did leave behind some interesting artifacts, among them his hammy TV commercials for winemaker Paul Masson. Outtakes from one ad surviving on YouTube feature an obviously inebriated Welles fumbling his lines, when he remembers to say them at all. Had he been sampling the Paul Masson on set? Maybe not. As the story goes, the company later fired Welles, but only after he announced on television that he never drank their product.
Yet Welles could make just as much of an impression without appearing on camera. In his later years, he was an in-demand voice-over performer, lending his authoritative baritone to everything from commercials for frozen peas and documentaries about Nostradamus, to his final role as the planet-sized robot Unicron in 1986's animated "Transformers: The Movie."
Welles, who died before the film's release, described his "Transformers: The Movie" role as "a big toy who attacks a bunch of smaller toys."
Meanwhile, outtakes from Welles' commercials for frozen peas, frozen fish sticks and frozen hamburgers are making the rounds. And if there is one thing I've learned about voice-over artists, it's that they're never happy with the writing.
"This is a very wearying one to read — unrewarding," Welles complains in one outtake after having given his director a long dissertation on the impossibility of beginning an English sentence with the word "in" and emphasizing it.
And later in the same outtake: "But you can't expect me to emphasize the word ‘beef!' That's like wanting me to emphasize ‘in' before ‘July!' Come on, fellas, you're losing your heads!"
Few voice-over announcers, however, have Welles' notoriety. They're unsung heroes whose voices surround us, but their names and faces are anonymous except to a few devoted fans, like the ones who successfully lobbied for Peter Cullen to reprise the role of Optimus Prime, which he originated in the 1980s "Transformers" TV cartoon, in Michael Bay's live-action movies.
And as easy as it may seem to sit in a sound booth and read from a script for a living, the voice-over outtakes you find on the Internet make it seem anything but. It's not all Morgan Freeman calmly discussing the habits of penguins, that's for sure.
Even before there was a YouTube, outtakes from the cartoon series "Thundercats" were causing a minor storm, if for no other reason than it was odd to hear the voices of familiar cartoon characters flubbing their lines and wondering what the bleeping bleep they were talking about.
Which brings me to the outtake that inspired this column in the first place.
The late Ernie Anderson, who died in 1997, was one of the greats. He started out on local TV in Cleveland, where he also was the influential horror-movie host Ghoulardi. But in the late 1960s, he moved to Hollywood, where he eventually became the voice of ABC, including serving as announcer for "America's Funniest Home Videos" and "America's Funniest People."
So it came to pass that "America's Funniest People" gave birth to the greatest voice-over outtake ever.
Apparently confronted with the worst script he has ever read, Anderson struggles to slog through, argues with his director and lets loose the most blistering stream of profanity ever caught on tape.
The YouTube video is titled "Ernie Anderson Out Takes ABC." But be warned: It's not safe for children, pets, small woodland creatures or people who think "The Lawrence Welk Show" is a bit racy.
Doing voice-overs is hard work — something to remember when next an anonymous voice reminds you about that very special episode of "90210."
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