• Swamp Thing (2019) s01e06 – The Price You Pay

    So, “Swamp Thing” keeps the momentum. It’s not a breakout episode like last time, with a combination of action and reveals. This episode’s got the reveals and developments—the show’s not taking its time with subplots. Not sure if it’s because their order got cut or if they were just unsteady in the “pilot” episodes, but they’ve found very solid ground.

    Apparently, they just needed to up the actual supernatural instead of the mysterious and probably supernatural. Swamp Thing and Blue Devil and the Phantom Stranger and Madame Xanadu—get all those gears working and the rest of the show being a Southern Gothic corruption soap opera shot muddy evens out. “Swamp Thing” needed to escape reality as soon as possible; now, free of it, the show’s character choices work all the better. Human heart in conflict with itself, others, and its (supernatural) environment: just ups the ante.

    Potentially.

    The show continues to make interesting choices, plotting-wise. This episode, it’s Selena Anduze (as Kevin Durand’s wife, fellow scientist, and moral compass), Jennifer Beals, and Henderson Wade. Wade in particular. He’s revealing a brooding side to the beefcake. And Beals is just great at this point. If the show had opened with her and then transitioned over to Andy Bean and Crystal Reed, it would’ve been awesome. Well, so long as they had the current few episodes’ writers on it. The first couple episodes got rough on the dialogue.

    Will Patton and Kevin Durand are delightfully restrained bad guys. Reed confronts Patton about sending thugs to rough up Maria Sten (who’s not as good as last time but better than before), which led to Ian Ziering getting smacked on the head. He’s now comatose with low brain activity and little chance of recovery per Reed.

    He does, however, have REM sleep visibly going on, but no one’s paying attention to him, which fits the characters a little better than it should. Everyone in “Swamp Thing” is operating under unimaginable pressures and would constantly be making sleepy, bad choices. The show’s not a lackadaisical anthology of supernatural incidents; traumas hammer. I may be making excuses, but there are a couple of really deft moves in the episode—Tania Lotta gets the writing credit—and I feel like there’s agency behind the show’s better decisions.

    Also, Toa Fraser’s direction is good. Not showy, sturdy; funny how the big-time movie director couldn’t find a tone, but the TV directors can; you’ve got to direct for the soap.

    And it’s not a particularly soapy episode. Patton and Durand’s machinations are sci-fi, and Ziering’s their guinea pig.

    Good episode for Ziering. He’s been likable on the show, but he’s downright charming now. Guess burning him alive in blue flame adds sympathy.

    Reed and Swamp Thing Derek Mears have a bit to do—the episode opens with an action scene, then there’s lots of talking before some suspense sequences and chase scenes, but no more Swampy action. There’s some Swampy magic—he’s talking about the Green a lot, and I’m very curious if the show’s going to be able to do it (either in terms of success or of four episodes left). It comes at the end, setting up a precarious next episode.

    But the show’s definitely improved—a lot.


  • Detective Comics (1937) #476

    Dc476

    I either made a crack about Steve Englehart writing the narration for Detective Comics for the “Batman: The TV Show” announcer, or I thought about making the crack. This issue Englehart’s back at it, ad nauseam. Then Chief O’Hara shows up doing banter, and maybe it’s supposed to be a grim and gritty remake of “Batman: The TV Show.” It’d still be bad, but at least it’d make some sense.

    This issue finishes Englehart’s run on the book, getting some resolution for the Rupert Thorne and Hugo Strange business and Batman’s romance with Silver St. Cloud.

    It’s not very good. I mean, there’s some great art. Most of the comic takes place in the rain, and artists Marshall Rogers and Terry Austin do some beautiful work. The story’s not very good. It’s not exactly badly plotted… well, wait. Silver does charter a plane from Akron to Gotham to go back for the finale. But the split is good; it’s between Batman’s failed attempts to thwart the Joker, Silver hitchhiking with Rupert Thorne, and then a little Joker spotlight.

    The Joker stuff in this issue—writing-wise—is nothing compared to the last issue. It’s not bad; some of it’s good; it’s just not startling. It’s pretty good, at least until Batman shows up and pontificates.

    The Batman and Joker stuff this issue also has an amusing subtext: Batman can’t figure out how to stop the Joker on his own, and only because of magic can he do it. It’s silly.

    But they also have a rooftop chase scene on skyscrapers in the rain, and Rogers and Austin draw the hell out of it. Great colors from Glynis Oliver.

    Some of the issue reads like The Dark Knight ‘Returns’, down to how the panels work. Then other times, it reminds of Todd McFarlane. Englehart, Rogers, and Austin undeniably influenced. But unless you’re doing a Batman history report or studying Rogers and Austin’s art, you can skip the arc. Or just read Laughing Fish. Then you miss the worse writing and terrible, shallow, weird characterizations from early in the arc.

    Anyway.

    Gorgeous art. The rest can go.

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  • Swamp Thing (2019) s01e05 – Drive All Night

    Wait, did “Swamp Thing” just get good? I mean, this episode’s definitely good. It’s a combination of season arcs progressing and culminating, better than normal writing (credited to Franklin jin Rho), and better directing of the actors. Greg Beeman directs. I’m not sure I’ve seen anything he’s done since License to Drive in 1988.

    But he gets Crystal Reed’s best performance of the show so far, a decent supporting one from Maria Sten (I knew calling her out would result in her getting better, three years retroactively), and a full-stop good one from Jennifer Beals. Will Patton chews a little less on the scenery as the show’s revealed more of his villainy. Virginia Madsen’s uneven but ultimately successful. It’s her season arc getting the culminating here.

    This episode marks the halfway point in “Swamp Thing.” The show infamously got its season order cut, then got canceled before even airing, so it was unclear if the show would ever find direction. It does. And, regardless of the quality, their gradual buildup does pay off. Including Swamp Thing Derek Mears finding out about the Green, but not from John Constantine (a Matt Ryan cameo would’ve been difficult but extraordinary), but instead from a Phantom Stranger (Macon Blair, in a Silent Bob impression). It all starts tying together, including Reed realizing there’s something supernatural to the swamp.

    Mears and Blair have a handful of scenes together—two or three, but if there are three, the second one’s entirely unmemorable—where Mears learns how to listen to the trees. They tell him (and the viewer) something about Reed’s history with Patton and Madsen’s daughter, played by Given Sharp. Melissa Collazo plays young Reed, and it’s kind of amazing how well they cast younger versions of people even on streaming these days.

    Sharp is haunting Madsen, this episode possessing her new ward, Elle Graham. The possession stuff is just okay until Graham starts trying to manipulate Madsen, then it starts getting good and never slows down.

    Then Beals has a subplot tying into the murder of Mears’s human self (Andy Bean shows up in flashback, which is starting to get annoying). Real good twists and reveals, with Beals raising the bar on “Swamp Thing”’s acting. Patton’s a delight, but he’s hamming it up. Beals is outdoing him sober, so to speak.

    Plus, Ian Ziering’s getting downright sympathetic.

    I’m hopeful “Swamp Thing”’s uptick will continue; either way, Drive All Night’s a fine forty-five minutes of television.


  • Infinity 8: Volume One: Love and Mummies (2016-17)

    Infinity 8 v1

    Infinity 8 is very high concept. It’s a series of eight stories, originally published in European volumes, published in the United States as eight, three-part limited series. It’s a combination of hard and soft sci-fi: a passenger ship has encountered a space graveyard and needs to investigate. They send a single agent. Agents are intergalactic super-cops, but good guys.

    That agent will investigate, relaying findings back to the ship, whose captain can reset time in eight eight-hour-loops (so it should be Infinity 888). The next time out, the agent or crew will have that extra experience.

    All that high concept comes through in roughly three pages. Writers Lewis Trondheim and Zep don’t spend much time on the concept. It’s a very interesting way to do a first chapter: intentionally delay establishing the ground situation. But then again, maybe the possible timelines only matter once you have comparable ones.

    The agent this issue is named Yoko Keren. She’s just a passenger on the ship, enlisted to help out because she’s never off-duty exactly; she’s been trying to find a suitable mate from the 880,000 (88, get it?) other passengers. She scans all of them, checking their medical records.

    She also breaks up bar fights as necessary. Otherwise, we don’t really get to know the character. She has one intense experience after another; Love and Mummies is mostly an action comic. Sci-fi action, lots of imaginative design, lots of humor, but it’s all action. Point A to B to C to D and back to A via C but not B. Once it’s done being an action story, it becomes a romantic comedy, which retroactively contextualizes the whole thing as a romantic comedy and makes it even more successful. Trondheim and Zep are dealing with alien species, an undefined future, and the mysterious space graveyard, and they weave a lovely, amusing romantic comedy through it. It’s like they finish weaving the story, and then you see what it’s been.

    It’s an utterly charming approach, which is particularly effective since the story itself gets gross.

    First, Yoko’s got to deal with an annoyingly horny second officer, who doesn’t just proposition her (without even knowing she’s on a mate hunt); he also pesters her via comlink while she’s out exploring. Then she’s got to navigate around the space graveyard, where most things are covered in maggots.

    Unfortunately, the Infinity 8 is carrying many Kornaliens, a species who loves to eat dead things. The longer dead, the better. They crave it uncontrollably and riot until they can get off the ship and find corpses to munch on.

    Initially, the Kornalien subplot is separate from Yoko’s exploration plot. She discovers artifacts from a wide range of sources, including the now destroyed planet Earth, but when she happens into a Buddha’s temple, her story collides with the Kornalien subplot. There she meets Sagoss, who’s just eaten a monk who died for love, and now Sagoss has those same emotions towards Yoko.

    Unfortunately, his fellow Kornaliens have just decided the best way to get corpses to eat is to make them out of the Infinity 8’s passengers. They start attacking the ship, turning Yoko’s exploration mission into a combat one, against incredible odds.

    Making things more difficult are the Kornaliens who maybe aren’t attacking the passenger ship, but have still eaten something to give them unhelpful emotions.

    Plus, Sagoss is an electrician and Yoko needs an action sidekick.

    There’s lots of suspense—including an exquisite chase sequence—there’s a lot of humor, there’s a lot of great art. Dominique Bertail does the art (with Olivier Vatine doing the design for the whole series). Bertail’s got a lovely sense of pacing in space; Yoko’s either on jet thrusters or a cosmic sled and the art conveys her velocity alongside the enormity of the space graveyard. It’s wonderfully well-paced.

    The end’s a little too cute, a little too rushed, but it’s not actually Yoko’s story, after all; she’s just one chapter of Infinity 8.


  • Blacula (1972, William Crain)

    Blacula gets by on novelty and hero Thalmus Rasulala’s effortless charm. Rasulala is a medical examiner with the LAPD; the movie’s got a hilariously silly name for the job and department; it just means he gets to go around and flash an ID card and get things done. He’s also the only Black cop in the movie; all the rest of them, including the numerous extras, are white.

    While there’s a “romance” in Blacula, Rasulala’s investigation is the main plot. Even though Vonetta McGee, as Rasulala’s girlfriend’s sister, brings Rasulala into the story, she’s going to get less and less as the film goes on. Conversely, the sister—played by Denise Nicholas—will get to go along with Rasulala on most of his vampire hunting. Including when Nicholas has a panic attack upon her first vampiric encounter, something cop Gordon Pinsent will also suffer. Only Rasulala is cool enough not to have a panic attack. Oh, and McGee. She’s fine with vampires.

    William Marshall plays the title character; in the eighteenth century, African prince Marshall goes to Europe to ask Count Dracula (a bad but effective Charles Macaulay) to pledge to ending the slave trade. Macaulay responds by turning Marshall into a vampire and locking him in a coffin (where’d Macaulay get African soil? Don’t ask; barely any vampire rules here). Then Macaulay locks Marshall’s wife, also played by McGee, in a room with the coffin so she can starve to death, listening to him starve in undeath. Really, really shitty thing to do. And even though the film’s got direction problems from the start, it also gets Marshall and McGee some fast, deep sympathy.

    Only when Marshall wakes up in L.A. he’s an entirely different character. I mean, he’s still in love with McGee, but he doesn’t seem phased by the two-hundred-year time difference or the reincarnated wife or being a blood-sucking vampire, killing people left and right. Plus, one of Blacula’s few vampire rules has them changing immediately, so Marshall’s putting together an undead army.

    So he’s not sympathetic. Maybe if he and McGee had some great chemistry, but she’s flat in all her scenes. When she’s vaguely brainwashed, it’s okay; when she’s trying to endear her character, not so much.

    McGee is a trooper, though. Director Crain shoots the film in lengthy medium shots, where the actors have to move around the frame a couple times, keep up with the camera, and do foreground and background work. Blacula’s stagy, which seems to be the curse of the vampire movie.

    Crain’s also not able to do horror. He can do a little supernatural action, but only a little. Editor Allan Jacobs has some almost okay sequences, but Crain’s footage is working against him. John M. Stephens’s photography is fine, and Gene Page’s music is pretty good a third of the time, which adds up since almost every scene has background music. The best technical is easily Sandy Dvore’s playful but ominous opening titles sequence.

    Marshall’s an imposing villain without being a compelling one; it works out since Blacula’s a police procedural with monsters.

    There are a handful of notable bit parts. Ji-Tu Cumbuka is a lot of fun as a random friend, Emily Yancy’s good as one of the eventual vampire brides, and Elisha Cook Jr. phones in a tepid but memorable cameo.

    Blacula’s got the insurmountable problem of budget and director Crain, but it’s entirely watchable with an outstanding leading man performance from Rasulala.