8.13.2005

Kinetic by Kelley Puckett and Warren Pleece (and Allen Heinberg)



This is a new collection from DC Comics, reprinting an eight issue series that was placed in the DC Focus line. This line is now defunct, and any titles that are still arriving from it have been folded into the main DC line.


When this line started I remember it being promoted as a genre-less line of slightly fantastic, but non-superhero stories. Then I looked at the comics as they came out and thought, "that sorta looks like superheroes, and definitely looks genre." I didn't bother adding any of the titles to my stacks of comics I bought. Several months later I came across inexpensive copies of the first two issues of Kinetic and read them. They were interesting, but I didn't think to search out the rest. A week ago or so, I saw the collection come out and noticed it had a $9.99 cover price, which struck me as a fair price for the series, and since it collected every issue, complete, I grabbed it.


As indicated above, this is a genre title, and basically a superhero book. It features a story "created by Allen Heinberg and Kelley Puckett," written by Puckett, and illustrated by Warren Pleece, with later issues having inkwork by Garry Leach. Heinberg is much more well known for his TV writing than for comics, though all accounts indicate he is a longtime comic fan. The story is well thought out, and I enjoyed the satisfying conclusion. I don't know whether or not it was always planned to end at issue eight, I assume not, but the wrap up was appropriate, if a little hurried. The book feels as though the entire story and character arc was delineated in the story pitch that the two writers came up with, which gives it the opportunity to come to an appropriate conclusion, even if it was sooner than hoped. In fact the middle few chapters (I treat each 22 pages as a chapter when reading a trade collection of a serial title) seemed to indicate that the series was leaving itself open to an easy pace, almost manga-like in that reading the story went quickly, but that its openness was intended to follow the flow of the story.


The artwork is workmanlike, which I intend as both praise and indictment. I am actually a fan of Pleece, enjoying his work on Deadenders and True Faith. He has an idiosyncratic style suited to stories of regular people in fantastic situations. My impression here is that he uses a slightly simplified style when faced with a monthly deadline, which while certainly understandable, leaves us with the flavor of many other DC titles. DC has always offered steady performance and dependability over Marvel, Image and their ilk, but at the cost of showmanship when it comes to artwork.

The other interesting thing about the images is the color palette. A very specific and possibly too rigid blue-grey-red color scheme is used. The characters are always colored with shades of blue or grey and the rest of the panel is always a shade of red. There is plenty of skill in the coloring, but this choice never clicked with me. It's possible I missed a key storytelling point with the duochromatic coloring, but it was lost on me nonetheless. I don't understand why, if this color scheme was important, it wasn't followed to include the covers.


Overall, this is book was quite enjoyable, and I recommend it to curious readers. It was a very interesting story, especially given that it came whole cloth from the creators, not as a piece of patchwork from the larger DC Universe.

8.07.2005

Something I’ve Been Listening To


I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning by Bright Eyes.

There are few albums that have had more critic ejaculate spewed on them than this album. You can add my name to list, because now I’m going to shoot my wad on it.

I listen to the music that I listen to most frequently for the lyrics. I’m not musically literate enough to comprehend a well-played jazz song or to appreciate the challenges of writing an unforgettable guitar melody with only three chords. (I only know the number of chords because I read way too many record reviews. In fact, I couldn’t accurately define what a chord is anyway.) I do know, however, when I find a songwriter who can use language that gives me a genuine emotional impact. Which brings us to Conor Oberst.

This pipsqueak motherfucker can write songs that appear effortless, which I can only assume, with endless jealousy, means that they are just that easy for him. Even when he brings a lyric that sounds like it was written by a 22ish kid (“Landlocked Blues”), this kid just makes you realize that he’s failing in front of you only because he’s trying so fucking hard. Then you catch the little shit with a brilliant line like “So I will find my fears and face them./ Or I will cower like a dog./ I will kick and scream or kneel and plead./ I’ll fight like hell to hide that I’ve given up.” (“Another Travelin’ Song”) and you just want to kick him in his supermodel-kissing lips.

If all this sounds like sour grapes you’re goddamn right. I wish I had an armpit hair’s worth of his talent. I may be an easy target, as I’ve always been a sentimental fool, but he can make me swoon with a line like “Yours is the first face that I saw./ Think I was blind before I met you.” (“First Day of My Life”)

Sour grapes all right, I can’t even manage 300 eloquent words about why the kid is so good without cursing like a seventh-grader, and at 23 this is already his fifth or sixth full length album (two this year so far). Oh well, at least there’s some justice and the youngster has struck it rich while I sit here and type to no one on a blog.

8.06.2005

The Aristocrats by Penn Jillette and Paul Provenza

I just got back from a late evening showing of this newly-released film and I enjoyed it quite a bit. I must say, however, that if you don’t know Pat Cooper from Jackie Martling, or Bruce Villanch from Dana Gould, or Tom from Dick, you might not enjoy this movie as much as it’s reviewers.

One list of raves from the website includes the quotes: “You’ll laugh till it hurts!”; “Uproarious!”; and “…the funniest movie you’ll ever see!” Now, I understand movie poster hyperbole, but the movie just isn’t THAT funny. It was funny, and at moments very funny, but more interestingly, it’s a meditation on comedians and joke-telling. What makes the movie great is the personalitites and history of comedy spread across the screen, not the jokes (mostly just the one joke), and not the hilarity that you might assume follows. It’s at its best when it illuminates the personalities behind the jokes and when it’s about the comedians themselves just having fun. I thought the final credits were the most telling part of the film and a very enjoyable finish. For the most part it’s just the comedians laughing. Laughing at themselves, laughing at the filmmakers, laughing at each other. It’s always very satisfying to hear a simple, honest laugh.

8.05.2005

Excerpt from Mr. Quid by Joles Hatcomb

She understood that some songs would be forever owned by those people that first shared them with her. These songs were tied so tightly to those people that anytime she heard them they brought back thoughts of forgotten history. Some songs brought memories that she’d rather forget. Memories of people who had crushed her heart, taking with them pieces of her she couldn’t recover. They would leave memories, pictures, even aromas. And songs; lyrics, words, melodies.

Some days she just wanted the songs, some days she wanted to forget the rest.