Stolen from r.amblin.gs

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Cover to the upcoming issue of Superman (I believe issue 677). Art by Alex Ross.

Happy Birthday to Jason

On Monday Jason turns the big 35.

It seems like just yesterday he was turning 16 and bought that @#$%ing Camaro.

Anyhow, he's my brother, and despite all evidence to the contrary, he's a great guy. I'm lucky enough to have a brother who is, really, one of my two best friends and who I can count on. Anyhow, I think the world of that guy.

So happy 35th, Jason. But I still don't forgive you for breaking the wing off my X-Wing in 1983.

And that soccer ball? I'm GLAD I lost it. Bwah ha ha ha ha ha.

The League sees DOOMSDAY (so you don't have to)

Holy @#$%.

Remember when you'd go to the movies and enjoy them? After seeing Doomsday, that all seems like a distant memory, as if a glimpse of a long-forgotten dream.

This is not to say that I did not enjoy watching Doomsday. I enjoyed the act of viewing Doomsday if I did not enjoy the movie itself.

Telling you Doomsday was awful may not come as a surprise. But to me, the depths of the awfulness... well, really Doomsday knew no bounds (nor shame) when it came to awfulness. Honestly, there was a minute there when I thought "oh, they're kidding. This is intentionally bad!" But, yeah... no.

Of late, it seems that many-a-sci-fi movie is but a deliberate, derivative knock off of a movie you've already seen (ie: Eragon = Star Wars). But Doomsday takes it one step farther by offering up a smorgasbord of stuff you've seen before in movies you kind of liked. The opening sort of lifts from any of a number of movies where a crowd is trying to escape an epidemic but is stopped by the military (most recently seen in I Am Legend). This is followed by some awkward expository scenes which kind of lift from the expository scenes from "Escape From New York". This is followed by a direct rip-off of scenes from "Aliens" (I mean, right down to the sort of vehicle being used), a minute or so of "Blackhawk Down", then into "Mad Max/ Beyond Thunderdome", which launches into a quick lift from... well, it's all stuff you've seen before. And when I say you've seen it before, I mean right down to editing, lighting, look and feel. It's... weird.



Also, star Rhona Mitra looks almost exactly like Kate Beckinsale. With hair and outfit styled after "Ghost in the Shell". Don't get me wrong, she's a good looking dame and all, but...

The dialog sounds like, maybe, it could have used an extra pair of eyes before the cameras rolled. However Director Neil Marshall is also, presumably, writer Neil Marshall. And, hence, nobody got between Mr. Marshall and Mr. Marshall when it came time to second guess uncreative and frequent use of the F-bomb, as well as the clunkiest exposition this side of "Monster A-Go-Go". Also, nobody seems to have told Mr. Marshall that showing every death (and method of death, of which the movie has innumerable and creative options) need not be shown in an extreme close-up. Sometimes cannibalism is also best suggested or mentioned to be something shown off-screen.

And I don't know how many of you have seen "Garth Marenghi's Darkplace", but the writing in the two has a lot (unintentionally) in common.

And, yes, I guessed they were about to eat someone by the odd use of the appearance of a Fine Young Cannibals' song. Really, this is that kind of movie. And then for some reason, they used Siouxsie's "Spellbound". Really the only pop music in the movie.

For a movie that includes car chases, knights in armor, gladiatorial combat, punk rock cannibals, plague zombies, a herd of cattle, a car chase and stuff I suppose I'm forgetting, its also kind of dull. Partially because after the initial exposition, the characters don't really talk to one another much, and a lot of stuff occurs, but not a lot happens.

Also, everything vaguely sciency that happens in the movie is wrong. A Bentley turns over after sitting in a box untouched after 20 years. The understanding of viruses is... hazy at best. And more!

There IS a plot, which is sort of messed up and ridiculous if you buy that a wall could be built in about 48 hours which would bi-sect the UK. Also, the issues between the UK and Scotland sort of run as a nasty undercurrent through the movie, making some not very flattering assumptions about what would happen in Scotland if push came to shove.

The truth is, I love me a bad movie. And this movie fits that bill on so, so many levels. We found ourselves throwing high-fives every once in a while when we were really, really feeling it.

I really don't know if movie directors/ producers are really that mercenary that they don't care if we already know this movie, and are willing to blatantly rip-off material wholesale and put it under a different label. I don't know if they THINK they're trying, or if they just have not a clue that they ARE ripping things off, or if they don't realize it, or what... There's certainly a certain video-gameness to the movie, if a video game were dreamed up by a hyperactive 8th grader. There's no payoff between our hero and a Big Boss, and, honestly, it could have used it for the trajectory of the movie. Honestly, almost nothing about the end of the movie makes sense, including an incriminating speech by one of the characters.

But, anyway, I've warned you. You're on your own from here. But, God bless it... Doomsday is here to tell us that the B movie is alive and well. And I don't mean how movies that used to be B movies are now, really, not B- movies but sheepishly claim to be so in order to bullet-proof themselves from critics who blanch at movies with superheroes, etc...

Dammit, I mean the cheap, lousy B movie with an iffy plot, clunky dialog, exploitative use of violence, ladies, car chases and shoddy science in the science fiction. You, B-Movie, are the real spirit of the silver screen.

Stand by your man...?

League pal and houseguest, Nicole and I wound up discussing the Elliot Spitzer debacle in the New York governor's offices over the past two nights or so. Like most, neither of us are surprised that a powerful official was spending inordinate amounts of money on hookers (I am trying to imagine a scenario in which someone would pay $4000 for an evening with The League, and, ya'll... I find myself feeling inadequate).

We've also become familiar with the wife of said scandalized officials coming to the pdoium to stand by their man in their hour of shame. To some extent, we're all familiar with the script.

Official is exposed.

Official sort of denies it.

Official realizes they are totally busted.

Official calls press conference where they state how they let down their representative region, the public trust, their God, their families, and, of course, themselves.

The wife stands dutifully beside the husband looking as if they haven't slept in four days, and the press restrains themselves from asking the question we're all wondering "So... we all know you're not going to leave him. Why not?"

What Nicole pointed out is that these spouses always/ often dress in a sensible Chanel suit. In some cases, virtually identical Chanel suits.

Above: Ex-New Jersey Governor James E. McGreevey and wife Dina. Below: Eliot Spitzer and Silda Spitzer


A little weird, no?

Husband looking serious in dark, somber suit? Wife in sensible, cheery looking suit like one might wear to a fund raiser, but not necessarily to work. Plus the pearls, as Nicole mentioned. You must have the pearls. Heck, Hillary Clinton's been wearing them out of habit on and off for years.

How many other grown women do you see wearing pearls? Who aren't visiting church from the old folks' home?

I imagine it's part of the script for the political handlers trying to manage the catastrophe.

Step 1) Must obtain suit. Nothing too flashy, but must exude class and confidence. And money. Money is good. But not too much money.
Step 2) Wife should look reserved, and to remind the press the spouse is a mother, have her add pearls.
Step 3) Get the funeral suit out for the deposed politician. He can look stately and somewhat dignified in deep navy jacket and power tie as he fesses up to a weakness for $4000 hookers, young male interns, what have you...

Honestly, I have no evidence to suggest this, but I kind of suspect most people feel the same about the private lives of elected officials as they do about celebrities. The quarterly outing of some politician for sex/drugs/murder/what-have-you and the circus that follows is usually forgotten in a month or two, and business proceeds as usual. It isn't going to affect your taxes, so... really...

Personally, I sort of assume that powerful people with yes-men surrounding them forget that they're doing something they shouldn't when they take a few liberties with their personal lives.

Far more mysterious to me (and to Nicole, in our discussion) are the wives who stand beside their husbands. I suppose there's political pressure to do so from handlers making suggestions when it seems your world is sort of being sucked into a deep, black well. There can be light at the end of the tunnel. Hillary put up with that business all the time, and, hey, look, that turned out pretty well for her...

After all, at some point, you're hitching yourself to someone else's wagon when you fall in with a politician, etc... You're making that conscious decision to go along for the ride, and enjoy the fruits of what sitting in the Governor's mansion might bring you. So perhaps there's the unenviable task of having to also stand by the guy's side when the moron philanderer gets taken down.

These wives can't be completely oblivious to the stereotypes of the politician running around with other women. I suppose you trust your spouse and all, but...
Sometimes I wonder if the strain is coming from shock or if its coming from the many, many times the wives looked the other way and now its all coming out, and nobody ends up looking great.

At least you'll get a sort of Jackie-O looking dress out of it, perhaps purchased by the party (a small price to pay if things go okay, right?).

Perhaps in coming years as more women enter the political arena there's going to be husbands in pearls and a sensible suit from Chanel standing distraught beside their wives as the wives fess up to their "relationship" with some gigolo. Honestly, I can't wait for that day. On that day I'll know that the sexes have found true, disappointing equality.

NASA assists in development of SkyNet

Why not just paint a big, red target on humanity and put a countdown clock on every desktop?

Here.

Of course, as I often say, I welcome our coming robot masters.

Taking the night off

I'm not sure what's up with my comments. They don't seem to be working on last night's Looney Tunes-centric post.

Apparently Mary Ann was busted for weed. Little Bruce Wayne is out of print. Chronological Snobbery never updates. Or CBGblog. At least Jilly published.

Also... I'm more than a week behind on comics, Lucy has gas, and I want to check out these pictures of Spitzer's hooker ($4000? Seriously? It seems getting a mistress would be more frugal and more legal).

Ya'll discuss amongst yourselves.