Year: 2005

Let’s time, from this moment, how long it takes to find an article where the Downing Street Memo is referred to as “Downingate.”

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I believe it’s been mentioned elsewhere, but I thought I’d let you guys know that the new issue of TV Guide features a half-page write-up on page 12 about the “Angel” and “Spike” comics coming from IDW. They feature the cover from my “Spike” one-shot and a capsule description of the plot. No, my name isn’t mentioned, but that’s fine; it’s not like my name is going to mean anything to TV Guide readers. Meantime IDW got a bunch of new orders in for the book that they directly attribute to the TV Guide write-up.

Best of all, there’s going to be a full page ad on the inside cover of the one-shot for “Fallen Angel,” so it’ll be a nice way to let potential new readers about the book’s existence.

Very shortly you’ll be seeing artwork from the new artist, either here or on Newsarama. You won’t believe how gorgeous it looks.

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Florida State football player Wyatt Sexton was arrested while claiming to be God. According to the wire piece:

“Police said Sexton “appeared to be under the influence of some unknown narcotic or alcohol.” Hospital officials said they didn’t have any information on him. Once at the hospital, Sexton continued to say he was God and that he didn’t know why he was in the hospital, Lyne wrote.”

Okay, but…what if he really IS God?

I mean, there are people who firmly believe that possession by Satan is a real condition, and requires exorcism to boot. So why is it any more farfetched to believe that, hey, God decided to drop by for a visit? Or…hey! Maybe he was overthrown and condemned to live in a human’s body. That would be cool. I think I’ll write that.

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In considering possible storylines for “Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man,” I thought of the notion of bringing in Spider-Man 2099 and perhaps even following up on the one-shot I wrote in which they met.

But I have to admit, I was gunshy. After all, I did a storyline in “Captain Marvel” in which we time-traveled both to 2099 and “Future Imperfect,” and it got me slammed for writing stories that required intimate knowledge of everything I’d written in the past. They were roundly criticized as proof that I was far more interested in producing insular and self-referential material instead of stories that were broadly accessible to new readers.

So “Exiles” announces a storyline going to 2099 and the world of “Future Imperfect,” and it’s greeted with excitement and cheers.

What the hëll–?!?

Understand, I don’t resent the creative team for going in that direction. Personally, I’m kind of flattered. But I’ll tell ya, if I do bring Miguel back for a drop-in on Peter Parker, I won’t be real thrilled the first time I read commentary claiming that I’m just recycling old ideas.

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…he asks for a change of venue and gets his trial moved to Los Angeles.

Seriously, I don’t know how to feel about the Michael Jackson verdict. Part of me wants to think, “I’m so glad it turns out he’s not guilty; maybe there really isn’t anything to these charges. Which would be nice because it means he’s not a pedophile and children weren’t being traumatized.” And on the other hand I think about the impressive percentage of celebrities walking away from crimes in California and wonder if–despite the jury’s claims to the contrary–the cult of celebrity really does render them invulnerable. After all, Nicole Simpson reportedly told friends that she was convinced her husband would kill her and get away with it.

I swear, if Phil Spector gets away with having shot Lana Clarkson…I mean, unlike all the other participants in all the other cases, her I actually met and talked with…the day she died, in fact. It’s not like we became fast buds or anything, but for the brief time I met her, she was very sweet and seemed so full of life, and that guy claims she went to his house and killed herself out of the blue? It’s an outrage. So let’s see what happens with that.

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Sturgeon’s Law is that 90 percent of everything is crap. So the obvious corollary to that is that 10 percent of everything is gold.

Since no less an authority than Isaac Asimov stated (to me, in fact) that Sturgeon’s Law is immutable, then we can assume that 90 percent of everything done with Batman in the past seven decades is crap, and 10 percent is gold.

So what would happen if someone went through and cherry picked all the stuff from that ten percent?

Well, you’d have “Batman Begins,” a slightly overlong (they could’ve trimmed ten minutes), occasionally bewilderingly filmed (the fight sequences seemed to have been edited by putting the film into a blender, leaving the top off the blender, and starting it up) but ultimately satisfying and superior film that kickstarts a franchise that had sunk under camp and an abundance of superstar supervillains.

Continue Reading “Batman Begins” →

Kath and I saw “Mr. and Mrs. Smith” over the weekend (I also saw “Shark Boy and Lava Girl” along with Ariel. Ariel loved it. As for me, well, I’m not exactly the target audience, so let’s just say that Ariel loved it and leave it there.)

“Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” basically “True Lies” meets “War of the Roses,” centers on two accomplished married assassins whose every day lives are drenched in boredom because neither of them knows about the other’s true calling. As with any marriage based upon a foundation of lies, it’s crumbling, until crossed paths reveals their secrets to each other and a shooting war breaks out that makes Donald and Ivana Trump look like the Clampetts.

The celebrated real-life chemistry of Jolie and Pitt translates to the screen and surmounts the real problem that always faces an audience dealing with a film where everyone is fundamentally amoral–who the hëll do you root for? Because the two of them are clearly, deep down, obviously truly, madly, deeply in love with each other, you root for love to conquer all…even when all consists of a virtual army of assassins.

And yet, I came away from this film with the same reaction I had to the two “Lara Croft” films: Angelina Jolie is simply getting herself in shape for the part she is absolutely born to play–

Modesty Blaise.

Modesty deserves better than the ghastly 1960s film, and the marginally better but staggeringly on-the-cheap “My Name is Modesty” that was shot in two weeks’ time in Romania (I even recognized one of the actors from when he was in one of my “Trancers” films). Given a good script, Jolie has the perfect combination of exoticness (is that a word?) and kick-ášš fearlessness that Modesty Blaise requires. As for Willie Garvin? Hugh Laurie. Laurie’s tall, British, has rugged good looks, and the range to bring the role more gravity than just some standard issue British pretty-boy.

Angelina Jolie for Modesty, Hugh Laurie as Willie. Oh, and Michael Caine as Tarrant. Somebody. Please. Make this movie. Let Peter O’Donnell see one decent dramatization of his heroine before he shuffles off.

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