The Boys 2 (October 2006)

Ennis introduces the rest of the team this issue, but without exactly putting the team together. He juxtaposes these introductions against Butcher trying to recruit Hughie. He also gets The Boys‘s first huge laugh. More accurately, he and Robertson get the first huge laugh. Without Robertson’s art, Butcher’s dog’s face wouldn’t be so perfect.

As for the introductions to the team members, Ennis runs hot and cold. He opens with the CIA agent going over the files, prepping the reader a little, but the Frenchman’s episode is only slightly amusing. Ennis doesn’t push the humor. The Female’s introduction is practically a sociology piece. Mother’s Milk, in the final introduction, gets the best. Ennis finds the right mix of tones.

As for Hughie? It’s hard for Terror (the dog) not to overshadow those scenes, but Ennis also has Butcher going through a lot of exposition.

It’s an awesome, slightly problematic read.

CREDITS

The Name of the Game, Part Two; writer, Garth Ennis; artist, Darick Robertson; colorist, Tony Avina; letterer, Greg Thompson; editors, Kristy Quinn and Ben Abernathy; publisher, Wildstorm.

Contemporaneously…

High Road to China (1983, Brian G. Hutton)

Upon hearing John Barry’s beautiful opening titles music, I realized it was unlikely High Road to China would live up to its score. It does not. It does, however, at times, come rather close.

The film takes place in the twenties, with Bess Armstrong as a flapper who hires WWI veteran Tom Selleck to fly her to Afghanistan to find her father. Selleck’s rough and tumble, Armstrong’s perky and assured; they don’t get along. But unfortunately, Road isn’t a travel picture. The 1,200 mile part of their journey is done completely between scenes. It cuts down on the bantering between the two–but also cuts down on their expected romance.

About thirty minutes in, after they reach Afghanistan, the plotting becomes more predictable. They encounter a warlord–Brian Blessed camping it up in brown-face–and have to escape. Then they get another passenger (Cassandra Gava, in the film’s worst performance) and discover they have to keep going. It should be a quest picture… but it’s not.

Jack Weston is excellent as Selleck’s sidekick. For most of the runtime, the film’s salient character relationship is between the two men; both are broken down and marking time. None of the other actors make an impression–except Robert Morley. He’s awful.

Armstrong and Selleck are both fantastic; Armstrong gets a little more to do.

Besides the weak plotting, the film’s real drawback is director Hutton. Even when he’s competent, his work is never good enough for the actors.

Still, it’s not bad.

Lassiter (1984, Robert Young)

Lassiter suffers from a definite lack of charisma. Not from leading man Tom Selleck, who looks a tad too tall to be a jewel thief, but from his leading ladies, Jane Seymour and Lauren Hutton. Seymour plays the girlfriend, which should give Lassiter an edge–if Seymour and Selleck had any chemistry together. Sadly, they don’t. Maybe it’s because Seymour’s two feet shorter than Selleck, maybe it’s because her performance is so tepid. As for Hutton… she’s laughable as a Nazi witch.

Her sidekick, Warren Clarke, however… he’s good.

All of Lassiter‘s supporting cast is outstanding–Joe Regalbuto, Ed Lauter, Bob Hoskins–so when Seymour’s off-screen and Hutton isn’t around, it’s a much better movie.

But Lassiter‘s other big problem–and one recasting can’t help–is the lack of story. Selleck’s jewel thief has to rob the German embassy in 1939 London. While the film beautifully creates the period (Peter Mullins’s production design is fantastic), there’s not a lot of story. David Taylor’s script tries to get a lot of kilometers out of Hoskins’s vicious thug of a cop, but it just doesn’t work. Hoskins is more of a danger than the Nazis and Lassiter‘s an attempt at an amiable thriller. There’s no place for noir elements whatsoever.

It’s hard to blame Young for that failing. His direction is never particularly impressive, but it’s never bad. It’s just a faulty project, but a mostly pleasant one.

Selleck’s good, Ken Thorne’s score is excellent. Lassiter‘s positively mediocre.

2/4 ★★

CREDITS

Directed by Robert Young; written by David Taylor; director of photography, Gilbert Taylor; edited by Benjamin A. Weissman; music by Ken Thorne; production designer, Peter Mullins; produced by Albert S. Ruddy; released by Warner Bros.

Starring Tom Selleck (Nick Lassiter), Jane Seymour (Sara Wells), Lauren Hutton (Kari Von Fursten), Bob Hoskins (Inspector John Becker), Joe Regalbuto (Peter Breeze), Ed Lauter (Smoke), Warren Clarke (Max Hofer), Edward Peel (Sgt. Allyce), Paul Antrim (Askew), Christopher Malcolm (Quaid) and Barrie Houghton (Eddie Lee).


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OTHER 1984 RELEASES

The Boys 1 (October 2006)

There’s nothing visually fantastic in this first issue of The Boys. While Garth Ennis does write little asides–mostly from Butcher–deriding the superheroes, it’s Darick Robertson does all the heavy lifting with the visual implications. Robertson’s settings are hyper-realistic and occasionally gleefully mundane. The Boys establishes its reality feel immediately.

Ennis splits the issue between Butcher and Hughie without any explanation. There’s a little third person narration about Hughie, but otherwise Ennis just uses the force of Butcher’s character to move the rest of the issue.

There’s a lot of humor to take the edge of the occasional meanness. but Butcher can’t be too mean. He’s got an adorable bulldog, after all.

Unfortunately, there’s not much content. It’s clear Ennis is writing for the trade, given how many names he drops without establishing the characters. It’s a good comic, but so obviously a chapter versus a real issue.

CREDITS

The Name of the Game; writer, Garth Ennis; artist, Darick Robertson; colorist, Tony Avina; letterer, Greg Thompson; editors, Kristy Quinn and Ben Abernathy; publisher, Wildstorm.

Contemporaneously…

Sly Sylvester (2011, April Abeyta)

Sly Sylvester fails its lead actor, Richard Turgeon. He’s got a good costar in Jay Krohnengold, who plays his ornery landlord, but once his love interest arrives, Sly runs downhill.

Tiffany Gustafson, as the love interest, trips, stumbles and falls through Kim Nunley’s dialogue. Nunley puts in way too much exposition, but Gustafson talks so fast she sounds out of breath, like if she doesn’t hurry, she’ll forget her lines.

Opposite Turgeon, who’s wonderful, it’s awkward and uncomfortable. One watches, no longer involved with the story, wondering if Turgeon realizes Gustafson is ruining the short.

Director Abeyta has some great shots, but also some terrible ones. Some of the problem is her editing (but also Thomas Broening’s photography often not matching). It’s about a one-to-one ratio, up until the end with a great establishing shot and then a bad crane attempt ruining it.

Still, Turgeon makes Sly worthwhile.

Wasteland 6 (May 1988)

Thankfully sans politics again, this Wasteland is pretty good.

The first story, with Ostrander and Close scripting and Lloyd on art, is a tragic comedy. It follows a brawny actor with a dental condition as he tries to find respect for his craft. The Lloyd art is just fantastic, making up for the tepid finish.

The second story, with Messner-Loebs art, is a “real life” riff on Captain Marvel. It’s genially amusing–with great art–until the finish. Ostrander and Close go for a discreet, implied ending, but never lay the foundation for it. Just because it’s cute doesn’t mean it gets a pass.

The final story is an autobiographical one from Close, but scripted only by Ostrander (with Freeman art). It’s an okay ghost story. It feels a lot like sixties Marvel horror–compelling situation and tone but not a lot of bite.

All together, a fine issue.

CREDITS

Method Actor; writers, Del Close and John Ostrander; artist and colorist, David Lloyd; letterer, Steve Craddock. Paper Hero; writers, Ostrander and Close; artist and letterer, William Messner-Loebs; colorist, Tom Ziuko. On the Road part 1 or How We Changed the Price of Whiskey at the Butterfly Mine #2 in West Virginia; writer, Ostrander; artist, George Freeman; colorist, Lovern Kindzierski; letterer, Ron Muns. Editor, Mike Gold; publisher, DC Comics.

Contemporaneously…

Penguin Pool Murder (1932, George Archainbaud)

Penguin Pool Murder, besides the peculiar title (and lack of a definite article), opens like almost any other early thirties mystery. A possible unfaithful wife, Mae Clarke, has a swindling louse of a husband, Guy Usher. When he ends up dead, there are multiple suspects.

Only the murder occurs at the aquarium (hence the title) and, it just so happens, a schoolteacher is giving her class a tour. The schoolteacher in question, played by Edna May Oliver, is half what sets Penguin apart. The other half is James Gleason as the police detective. He soon–first reluctantly, then enthusiastically–enlists Oliver as his partner.

The banter between Oliver and Gleason suggests the pair is an established comedy team but Penguin‘s their first pairing. From the moment the two get together, the film is a delight.

Even before they do, the film’s production values go far to recommend it. There are no exterior shots in the entire picture, but every set is exquisite–particularly the aquarium. Archainbaud has some great set-up shots and his direction is generally strong… though his inserts are bad. Editor Jack Kitchin’s weak cutting undoubtedly contributes, but Archainbaud’s direction is responsible for the jump cuts.

The mystery itself isn’t much of one–the film, which is very short, runs out of interesting suspects fairly quickly. Fourth billed Clarke disappears after the first act, leaving Robert Armstrong (as her attorney) to fill her slot.

He, and Clarence Wilson, are strong supporting assets.

Penguin‘s a lot of fun.

Wasteland 5 (April 1988)

Ugh, another political story. This time it’s about U.S. imperialism leading to nuclear armageddon. Ostrander and Close are boring about, no real characters just vague anti-Reagan ramblings. Maybe if Simpson did a better job on the art. He lacks enthusiasm.

The second story, more of Close’s autobiographical work, is better. The setup doesn’t work and the ending is messy, but it’s definitely better. Though Messner-Loebs’s art is a little too hurried. There’s no rhythm between the art and the story; Close and Ostrander don’t write enough for the artist on it.

The third story’s phenomenal, however. Lloyd’s on the art. The story’s about Close and Ostrander brainstorming. It’s a funny recursive loop on their creative process with good cameos. The Lloyd art makes it a further joy, especially when the writers become stand-ins for DC’s Cain and Abel.

The issue’s a mixed bag, but ends strong.

CREDITS

This Time We Win!; writers, John Ostrander and Del Close; artist and letterer, Don Simpson. Under the Lash; writers, Close and Ostrander; artist and letterer, William Messner-Loebs. Big Crossover Issue; writers, Ostrander and Close; artist, David Lloyd; letterer, Steve Craddock. Colorist, Lovern Kindzierski; editor, Mike Gold; publisher, DC Comics.

Contemporaneously…

Rapid Fire (1992, Dwight H. Little)

Even with his silly, slicked back eighties cop hair, Raymond J. Barry is easily the best actor in Rapid Fire. His first appearance is delightful, as it washes away some of the film’s already very bad taste.

Rapid Fire is an action movie without any good action. Director Little’s terrible with actors and composition, but he also has a lousy crew. Ric Waite’s photography, while mildly competent, looks like he’s shooting the picture through bathwater. Gib Jaffe’s editing loses characters and he can’t figure out how to edit star Brandon Lee’s fight scenes. It’s okay, I guess, since Little can’t figure out how to shoot them. If the draw of Rapid Fire is supposed to be Lee’s martial arts abilities, actually showing them as something other than editing tricks would be helpful.

Besides Barry, only Tzi Ma makes any good acting impression… but it might be because Ma starts out opposite Nick Mancuso. Either Little told Mancuso to do a Sonny Corleone impression or Mancuso came up with it himself. Every moment Mancuso is on screen, whether playing with his hair or staring off into space, sears the reasoning parts of the brain. It’s laughably bad.

As for Lee? He’s not very good. It’s partially Little’s direction–and a lot of it is Alan B. McElroy’s terrible script–but he’s still not good.

Speaking of McElroy, he works numerous Chinese epithet to show Rapid Fire is socially conscious.

It’s an awful movie.

And Christopher Young’s smooth jazz score doesn’t help.

0/4 ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Dwight H. Little; screenplay by Alan B. McElroy, based on a story by Cindy Cirile and McElroy; director of photography, Ric Waite; edited by Gib Jaffe; music by Christopher Young; production designer, Ron Foreman; produced by Robert Lawrence; released by 20th Century Fox.

Starring Brandon Lee (Jake Lo), Powers Boothe (Mace Ryan), Nick Mancuso (Antonio Serrano), Raymond J. Barry (Agent Frank Stewart), Kate Hodge (Karla Withers), Tzi Ma (Kinman Tau), Tony Longo (Brunner), Michael Paul Chan (Carl Chang), Dustin Nguyen (Paul Yang), Brigitta Stenberg (Rosalyn), Basil Wallace (Agent Wesley) and Al Leong (Minh).


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Wasteland 4 (March 1988)

I’m not sure I’ve ever read a comic as self-important as this issue of Wasteland. I’m not making that statement lightly; it’s just hard to imagine anything more pretentious.

For example, Ostrander’s first story–set against a Shakespeare sonnet–is about how the only rational response to Ronald Reagan’s presidency is to kill oneself. Or your loved ones. Freeman’s art isn’t bad, but it’s achingly pretentious.

At least the second story, with Messner-Loebs art, isn’t political. Close joins Ostrander for the story of a paranoid woman who’s right to be afraid. It doesn’t make much impression, maybe because it’s so forced and obvious. Nice art though.

Simpson does a sloppy job on the art for the final story. The story–again, Close and Ostrander–is about celebrities escaping justice. It’s bad and unfunny. It’s also dumb. The dumb hurts it the most.

Close and Ostrander go overboard here.

CREDITS

Sonnet LXVI; writer, John Ostrander; artist, George Freeman; letterer, Ron Muns. A Safe Place; writers, Ostrander and Del Close; artist and letterer, William Messner-Loebs. Celebrity Rights; writers, Ostrander and Close; artist and letterer, Don Simpson. Colorist, Lovern Kindzierski; editor, Mike Gold; publisher, DC Comics.