Zorro (1993) #2

I tried, I really did. However, I’m not sure how anyone could tolerate Zorro. It’s beyond awful, beyond boring. I can’t figure out how the thing sold enough issues to get up to ten, or however long the series ran. I mean, it was the 1990s and all, but come on… no one would like this tripe.

The problem is wholly McGregor. I mean, Mayhew’s art is cookie cutter mainstream lame, but it’s fine enough. McGregor, though, he just can’t shut up. He seems to think the reader needs to know every characters thoughts all the time. He also tries to fetishize hacienda living… but by showing only the negatives. Even basic human kindness is alien in McGregor’s setting.

Again, a big problem is Zorro not being a real character. It’s also odd how the series seems to be based on the old Disney television series. Down to the likenesses.

Zorro (1993) #1

Oh, good grief, McGregor makes a Batman “joke” about the cape this issue. It’s kind of embarrassing, really, given he’s a writer of some reputation. Then a Spider-Man “joke,” then a Spawn “joke” (I forgot about Spawn… they still make those, right?).

Otherwise, it’s a very pedestrian done-in-one featuring Zorro saving a kidnapped lady (who’s loose, but Zorro don’t go in for that business, he’s got virtue). McGregor loads the comic with action setpieces, apparently because he doesn’t have any real story to tell. There’s a volcano, lots of fighting, an earthquake, horses, horses jumping, it goes on and on.

McGregor goes through the trouble of wasting pages and pages of exposition to kill off the villain at the end of the issue. He also writes in the second person, directing Zorro, in what might be the most embarrassing thing I’ve read in quite a good while.

Marvels (1994) #4

Marvels, quite simply, can’t live up to the potential of the first issue. The present action is about thirty years. Thirty years, four issues. It’s not going to be a solid narrative. Busiek has a couple opportunities to tie the first and fourth issue and doesn’t. It would have worked better without the same narrator throughout.

This issue does have the Gwen Stacy stuff, though, and it’s incredible. Busiek and Ross cast her as an angel in Marvel Universe and it works. It does work. Maybe it’s a little cheap–it’s not like no one but Gwen Stacy could appreciate these things, but there’s just something so … affecting about using her. It’s unfortunate the book has to contrive a relationship between her and the narrator for it to work.

Marvels is a wee self-important and a wee overbearing. It’s like no one ever realized what worked best.

Too bad.

Marvels (1994) #3

The Galactus issue. Way too many full page fight scenes here (Ross must have been getting tired) and no real story. It’s all centered around the one event, around the Fantastic Four fighting off Galactus. I’ve never read the Fantastic Four issues this one retells, so I don’t know if the lame excuses for no other heroes being around are in those too, but it really doesn’t work.

There’s more to it, sure, there’s a bunch of stuff about Iron Man (who’s off page the entire issue) and, while it does provide texture, it’s … it’s supposed to be a snapshot into the protagonist’s life, yes, but it all feels too forced. The comic is losing some of its charm (especially since, at issue three, they’ve finally decided to put some Black people in the comic–there weren’t any before, now it’s packed).

I hope the fourth issue ends things well.

Marvels (1994) #2

I think this issue of Marvels might qualify as cheap. I mean, while the first one thrilled and exhilarated, in this one Busiek puts a young girl in harm’s way as a dramatic plot. I’m not saying the issue does hit you in the stomach and hard, I’m just saying… it’s easy.

I mean, bigot learns not to be a bigot, but finds himself in a world where his not being a bigot anymore doesn’t mean everyone else isn’t a bigot. It’s almost a modern American narrative standard. I think “Quantum Leap” did about six episodes about it.

It’s a solid comic book and it does make the reader feel. It just does it in a dirty, cheap way.

Ross’s work here is fantastic. The grinning faces, the riots, it’s all just great.

I think the issue bothers me because it did choke me up, it just didn’t earn it.

Marvels (1994) #1

Marvels, as I argued fifteen years ago and apparently am going to continue to argue today, feels more like a DC title than a Marvel one. It’s a combination of things–there’s something about Busiek’s narrator; he’s too common to be a Marvel protagonist, he’s too ugly, too sensitive. It’s also Ross’s art. Marvel comics have the superheroes on the street, doing their thing like it’s no big deal. They don’t look out of place. Marvels instead presents them as fantastic.

It’s not a perfect comic–I have a lot of questions about Busiek’s version of historical events and he’s way too blasé about repercussions of major events–but it’s damned effective. Ross’s art here isn’t his subsequent (and current?) style of the barrel-chested superhero, the Superman and Batman who eat lots of Ho Hos. They’re athletic, idealized… marvelous.

Is Busiek really the first one to call them Marvels?

Robocop: Roulette (1993) #4

Dark Horse’s Robocop ends here. Finally.

It’s not a bad issue, definitely the best in this series and probably overall (the competition isn’t particularly steep, however). It helps Jeff Butler handles some of the art chores. I don’t know who he is or what else he’s done, but he’s better than Byrd.

There’s some unintentionally funny moments here, especially when they rip off a scene from Robocop 2.

A brief post-mortem on Dark Horse’s Robocop, since there’s nothing else to say about the comic book (it’s bad, but not godawful):

There’s no continuity. Just a general reference to the movies, especially the third one, but nothing to really tie the series together. There are these evil rich white men who control all the bad things (oh, is it just me or is the only real black character in the comic–set in Detroit–a criminal?), but it goes nowhere.

Robocop: Roulette (1993) #3

Byrd’s art is pretty awful, but it’s a surprisingly okay issue. Even taking all the stupidity into account, Arcudi does manage a couple all right moments here, like when Robocop goes back to the scene of his own murder.

There’s also a lot of cop talk, not related to Robocop, and it passes the panels. It’s not exactly filler, just more of Arcudi doing whatever he can to avoid making Robocop the protagonist in his own comic (which isn’t bad, necessarily, the first Robocop spent a lot of time with other characters–except they were interesting, Arcudi’s are not).

Maybe the time between reading the previous issue and this one has something to do with it. They certainly weren’t written “for the trade,” so a delay–just to let the brain cells regrow–is a must.

Still, shame they can’t do anything with Robocop; it’s a waste of a license.

Robocop: Roulette (1993) #2

Twenty-four pages of story and nothing really happens. I mean, clearly, things happen. There’s a fight, there’s an argument with the dumb detective, there’s Robocop’s girlfriend–she’s not his girlfriend but whatever (Byrd draws her middle aged, clearly not basing her off the very young Jill Hennessy who played her in the movie), there’s a surprise at the end, there are callbacks to previous Dark Horse titles.

There’s just no content. Robocop is, in the Dark Horse comics, a boring character. He’s outlived his usefulness, dramatically, and it’s just a mess. He doesn’t fight crime anymore, he fights the limited series’s villains, which just makes him a cartoon, cookie cutter superhero.

There’s got to be something I like about it….

I guess the design work on the bad robot is pretty well done. It looks a little like the Robocop 2 in the movie, but it’s still different enough.

Barcelona (1994, Whit Stillman)

Barcelona would be, if Whit Stillman had made more than three films and could be accurately categorized, Whit Stillman-lite. The film’s hilarious, with almost every scene ending on a humorous note. These comic moments don’t add up to much. Cousins Taylor Nichols and Chris Eigeman have a conversation at one point about the lack of critical discussion of text (versus subtext). While one could talk ad nauseam about how Nichols and Eigeman–and their actions–represent the Spanish’s perception of Americans, it–just like their conversation about subtext–is garnish. Barcelona is Stillman’s version of a crowd-pleaser and it’s rather successful as one.

Certain elements of the film–whether it’s Stillman’s way of visualizing flashbacks or emphasizing infatuation with someone looking directly into the camera… and especially Nichols’s narration of the events, which isn’t just illogical in terms of point of view but a very cheap narrative trick to escape non-humorous scenes–don’t work. Nichols is a fine actor and his performance is good, but he’s in no way a protagonist, not even as a joke. Stillman asks a character actor to be Glenn Ford and the result is poor–more confusing is how the viewer is supposed to perceive Nichols. Eigeman is a jerk. He’s very funny, he’s likable, he’s sympathetic, but he’s a jerk. Nichols isn’t funny, isn’t a jerk, but Stillman’s frequently asking the viewer to laugh at him. It’s hard for him to be sympathetic, because the jokes are often on him. Nichols tries his best to play this character, but it doesn’t work out. Stillman gives Eigeman a schtick. It’s like if Laurel and Hardy were Laurel and the other guy. Nichols is the other guy and Stillman doesn’t even know what to do with him. He gets to tell the story, I suppose, but the story should play out instead of being told… something Stillman seems to get by the end, when the narration evaporates.

Stillman does a great job with the location shooting. He rarely treats Barcelona as anything special–there’s one sequence where Nichols gives a disinterested Eigeman a tour, but otherwise Stillman’s passive about the whole thing. The exterior scenes, walking down the street for instance, leave the viewer desperate for a little more time to look around and Stillman doesn’t grant it. There are a couple sumptuous scenes–one at a country house, but the narrative turn of events overshadow any scenery (it’s kind of hard to pay attention to the landscape when one’s eyes are tearing up from laughter), and then one other scene… in America. Barcelona, both as a title and a location, suggest a certain exoticness. Stillman never plays into it and it’s a great choice. His direction, along with the constantly funny dialogue, make the film a joy to watch.

The principal female actors, Tushka Bergen and Mira Sorvino, are both fine. Given their roles, it would have been near impossible for anyone to not do so… unless the performance were really terrible. They’re supposed to be enigmatic and funny and both succeed.

Barcelona‘s a great time. It’s definitely pandering (Stillman certainly didn’t flex any artistic muscles here), but it’s good pandering.

★★★

CREDITS

Written, produced and directed by Whit Stillman; director of photography, John Thomas; edited by Christopher Tellefsen; music by Mark Suozzo; production designer, José María Botines; released by Fine Line Features.

Starring Chris Eigeman (Fred Boynton), Taylor Nichols (Ted Boynton), Tushka Bergen (Montserrat), Mira Sorvino (Marta), Pep Munné (Ramon), Thomas Gibson (Dickie Taylor) and Jack Gilpin (The Consul).


RELATED

OTHER FILMS DIRECTED BY WHIT STILLMAN
OTHER 1994 RELEASES