Mutant Homecoming: Disney Acquires Fox

First it was Spider-Man. Now it's the X-Men and Fantastic Four. We really don't need another megacorp, but as a fanboy, this is exciting.

Justice League

• Not as bad as I expected
• Not as good as it should have been
• Objects on screen are as fake as they appear
• Why is The Flash dressed like The Tin Man?
• DC 2017 = Marvel 2008

Thor: Ragnarok

• Funniest MCU movie yet, but not as funny as Deadpool
• Best of the Thor trilogy
• Move over Hulk Smash! Hulk Talk!
• Another day, another Doug

Adam West 1928 - 2017

Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na
Batmaaaaaan!
Na na na na na na na na na na na na
Batmaaaaaan!
Na na na na na na na na na na na na
Batmaaaaaan!
Na na na na na na na na na na na na
Batmaaaaaan!
Na na na na na na na na na na na na
Batman! Batman! Batman!
Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na
Batman! Batman! Batman!
Da da da da da da da da da da da da da!
Batmaaaaaan!

Lego Captain America 3

Follow-up to Lego Captain America 2.

Captain America V. (Batman V. Superman)

Not even close: Captain America: Civil War.

It's hard to understand how Warner Brothers turns out fantastic animation based on the DC source material, but has no clue how to make a live action adaptation.

Superhero Realism

The Rawness on Why I Hated the Dark Knight:

There are two problems with this movie’s “realistic” angle. First, Christopher Nolan seems to think “realistic” is simply another word for “boring.” Almost everything that makes the Batman character fantastic and larger than life is excised, probably because Nolan finds these elements silly and unrealistic. Batman’s fighting style is toned down so that he’s not doing any high-flying gymnastics or flashy martial arts, just a visually dull fight style consisting of extreme, incomprehensible close-ups on repetitive body blows, elbows and arm grabs. And even worse, these fights are all shot in the dark with lots of quick cuts, which I guess is somehow supposed to increase the realism through incoherency.

We have a boring Batmobile with no bat insignias, oversized scallops or anything that indicates it’s supposed to have a Bat-theme. Because driving a cool-looking bat-shaped car would just be too ridiculous. Joker can’t have permawhite skin like the comics because that’s also unrealistic, so he just wears sloppy face paint.

When I bring up how dark, dreary and joylessly boring this movie is, people respond “it’s supposed to be realistic.” Why’s the fighting and action so badly shot and dull? “It’s supposed to be realistic.” Why’s Gotham City so bland and generic now and no longer has a unique character and design like in other Batman adaptations? “Realism.” And so on and so on.

Which leads to my second problem with all this realism: IT’S A MOVIE ABOUT A BILLIONAIRE WHO TRAVELS THE WORLD IN ORDER TO BECOME THE WORLD’S SMARTEST, MOST HIGH-TECH CRIMEFIGHTING NINJA THAT EVER EXISTED, THEN RETURNS TO HIS HOMETOWN TO DRESS AS A GIANT BAT, DRIVE A WEAPONS-LOADED MINITANK, AND CLEAN UP ALL THE CRIME IN THE CITY BY ESSENTIALLY SINGLEHANDEDLY PUNCHING IT IN THE FACE EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. AND NOW HE’S GOING TO FIGHT AN EVIL CLOWN. So please tell me…what type of mental case creates or watches a movie with a premise so clearly meant to be inherently ridiculous and then turns around DEMANDS REALISM?

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

Surely, I hoped, when Batman and Superman were together in the same movie, the filmmakers would come to the conclusion that there's no plausible and logically consistent explanation for superheroes keeping their secret identities hidden and they just wouldn't bother trying to create one.

How can Superman, frequently seen in the light of day by the people of Metropolis, hide in plain sight as Clark Kent by wearing a pair of glasses, while Batman, seen mostly a night by criminals, must disguise his voice in addition to wearing a mask to keep his identity secret?

Sigh. One can hope.

Unfortunately, in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice they kept the bat voice. To their credit, it wasn't the cringe inducing, laughably non-scary, are you trying to hide your identity or do you have a cold, voice created by Christian Bale in the Dark Knight trilogy, but rather a low guttural voice created by electronics in Batman's suit. It actually made his voice sound menacing so I just went with it for that reason.

Then I saw Ben Affleck on The Graham Norton Show where he explained that the bat voice was used to protect Batman's secret identity as well-known billionaire Bruce Wayne.

Sigh.

Filmmakers, if you need an explanation for secret identities, here's the only one you'll need.

It's make believe.

Make believe there's a secret lair beneath your house. Make believe you can fly and shoot laser beams out of your eyes. Make believe that you're secretly a crime fighting vigilante.

And when you're done trying to make the implausible plausible, you can focus on writing a decent story.

Deadpool

• Funniest superhero movie yet
• Fanboy friendly
• Not for kids
• Finally, Colossus that looks like Colossus

Holy Mathematics Batman!

The Batman equation

Avengers: Age of Ultron

You are worthy.

Lego Captain America 2

Follow-up to the hilariously violent Lego Captain America.

The Prodigal Son Returns

Sony Pictures Entertainment Brings Marvel Studios into the Amazing World of Spider-Man:

Under the deal, the new Spider-Man will first appear in a Marvel film from Marvel's Cinematic Universe (MCU). Sony Pictures will thereafter release the next installment of its $4 billion Spider-Man franchise, on July 28, 2017, in a film that will be co-produced by Kevin Feige and his expert team at Marvel and Amy Pascal, who oversaw the franchise launch for the studio 13 years ago. Together, they will collaborate on a new creative direction for the web slinger. Sony Pictures will continue to finance, distribute, own and have final creative control of the Spider-Man films.

It’s hard to think of a $4 billion dollar franchise as a failure, but nonetheless the last three Spider-Man movies have been creatively disappointing. I'm hopeful that the second reboot will breathe new life into the ailing franchise.

Most filmgoers are likely unaware that in the 1990s Marvel sold the movie rights to many of its most popular characters including Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, and the X-Men. As this infographic from the Geek Twins illustrates, at the end of 2014 Spider-Man lived in a world of his own. Without a deal, he was unable to appear in the wider world of character rights still owned by Marvel.



So the studio that was able to turn a group of second tier characters into a cinematic blockbuster generating universe, now has a big gun in its arsenal. I’m all atingle.

Secret Identities

Grounded in reality. That’s the hot trend being used almost exclusively in DC Comics superhero movies and television shows involving characters such as Batman, Superman, and Green Arrow.

Grounded in misunderstanding is what I’d called it.

Case in point: secret identities.

Here’s a typical line of reasoning from What ‘Man Of Steel’ Gets Right About Lois Lane:

It’s long been the running gag of the Superman universe – that the world’s populace and his closest friends are unable to comprehend that Superman and Clark Kent are one in the same, only one of them happens to be wearing glasses. While it is somewhat conceivable that Supes’ fans and Clark’s acquaintances are too knuckle-headed to see the truth (particularly in the early days of his existence, as we suspect that modern day Superman will have some major problems when it comes to social media, smart phones, and citizen reportership), it’s always been dunderheaded that Superman’s perennial love interest, Lois Lane, is consistently in the dark as to who is who. The main issue with the lovely Lois not seeing the obvious is that she is not only a highly intelligent woman, she is a woman who investigates things for a living. Rooting out truths and seeing beyond the status quo is not only what Lois does, but it’s who she is. Open your eyes, Lois!

This logic leads to an inevitable conclusion:

This is all a longwinded way of saying that we’re used to Lois Lane not knowing who Superman really is, and it’s a tremendous relief that this particular element of the story (no matter how traditional and accepted it may be) is excised almost immediately in Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel.

The problem with this line of reasoning is that it never goes far enough.

Nothing about the the superhero genre stands up to logical scrutiny. Not the superpowers that defy the laws of science; not the costumes; and certainly not the secret identities. The Incredibles had it dead right: if superheroes actually existed, they’d be sued into seclusion.

It’s not “somewhat conceivable that Supes’ fans and Clark’s acquaintances are too knuckle-headed to see the truth.” Once Superman reveals himself, it doesn’t require an investigative reporter to uncover his secret; a child could do it.

Our brains are too good at recognizing faces and voices to be fooled by superficial disguises. If you can recognize the actor doing a voice-over in a commercial, you can recognize Peter Parker’s voice through Spider-Man’s mask. A pair of glasses, a slouch, and a mild-mannered persona are simply not an effective disguise (unless you’re Count Olaf from A Series of Unfortunate Events).

Take the test yourself. See if you can match each of the Clark Kents on the left with the Superman on the right.



The correct answers are A8, B7, C5, D2, E3, F4, G1, and H6. If you missed any, make an appointment with your eye doctor or neurologist immediately.

If you’re being intellectually honest, you’d have to admit that there’s no way Superman could keep his secret identity hidden once he revealed himself to the world. Realistically, it’s inevitable that everyone should come to know that the boy raised as Clark Kent is the hero known as Superman.

And it would be a huge mistake to buy into that “realism.”

Clark is what binds Superman to humanity. Clark is what makes him one of us, not some alien with god-like powers.

It gives him something to lose. He wants to belong. How can he walk among as, as one of us, when we’re aware of his powers. People tend to be a little reserved when they know you can incinerate them with a look.

In short, secret identities are plot devices used to introduce conflict into the story and allow the audience to more easily identify with superheroes through their “normal” alter egos. They’re not intended to be plausibly realistic.

So the next time you watch a movie or TV show and the superhero distorts their voice to protect their identity, ask yourself: does this really make the story more plausible or does it just highlight the implausibility of the entire concept. Wouldn’t it be easier just to accept the conventions of the genre rather than expect a “fix” for them?

If you can believe a man can fly, go one step further and believe in secret identities. Otherwise you’re just saying “I can totally believe in Gandalf and all his magical powers, unless of course he’s wearing a mask and no one can recognize him, in which case it totally ruins the story for me.”

And if you absolutely insist on an explanation for how a superhero keeps their identity secret, go with super-hypnosis. It’s certainly more plausible than anything Christopher Nolan, Zack Snyder, or The CW has given us.

Lego Captain America

Awesome!

Movies, Pacing, and Books

For economic and practical reasons, most movies have a run time of 1½ to 2½ hours. But what if time constraints could be removed and audiences would sit through an entertaining movie of any length? How much longer would films run and would their content have to change to keep the audience in their seats?

There are many examples of movies that are both long and successful. Avatar, the top grossing film of all time, had a run time of 2 hours and 42 minutes. Titanic at 3 hours and 14 minutes is the second top grossing film. The three movies of The Lord of the Rings trilogy were all around three hours in length and individually are the 33rd, 24th, and 7th highest grossing films.

But The Lord of the Rings, both the movie and the books on which it is based, is really one story told in three parts. A single “super movie” would be over 9 hours in length with combined grosses placing it ahead of Avatar.

Because the story is a sweeping epic, it’s hard to envision these movies being shorter and still doing justice to the source material. You can even argue that the extended versions of the films, which bring the total length to over 11 hours, fill in missing pieces making the story more enjoyable.

So if a 9 hour movie can be good and an 11 hour movie (possibly) as good or better, would making movies longer make them better?

The Avengers, perhaps the best (or at the very least one of the best) superhero movies ever made clocks in at 2 hours and 23 minutes. It’s the third top grossing film. Would this movie have been twice as good if it were twice as long? I don’t think so. You could add additional subplots and lengthen the actions sequences, but I doubt this would have made the movie better.

On the other hand, every M. Night Shyamalan movie feels like it’s thirty minutes too long. Even The Sixth Sense, which I liked quite a bit, drags at points. Cutting at least ten minutes out of the running time of 1 hour and 47 minutes would have made it a better film.

Why is this?

Pacing.

Stories have rhythm. If it’s too fast, then we wonder why things happen. If it’s too slow, then we wait for things to happen. If it’s just right then we get caught up in the story and lose track of time.

The Sixth Sense presents too little story in too much time. A point is reached where we understand that Cole is a troubled child who has disturbing supernatural events occurring around him. We also understand that Malcolm, the child psychiatrist who is trying to help him, is troubled in his own way. We’re ready to move on to the next thing—for the characters to begin working on a resolution for their problems—but instead the film keeps focusing on the problem for far too long before finally coming to a resolution and satisfying conclusion.

The editing process, driven by practicality of run times, generally makes movies better. No amount of editing is going to turn hours and hours of bad footage into an oscar winner, but it stands to reason that if you take the best footage, sequence it properly, and leave the rest on the cutting room floor, you’ll probably have the best film you can make.

For good films this often means the hard choice of not including some footage. In Alien, a cut scene reveals the fate of Dallas and Brett who had been earlier captured by the xenomorph. It revealed some intriguing information about the alien’s life cycle, but placing it in the middle of Ripley’s frantic escape from the Nostromo before it self-destructed would have disrupted the pacing of that sequence. Similarly in Aliens, there is a cut scene in which Ripley learns that her young daughter lived out her life and died during the 57 years she was adrift in space suspended in hypersleep. This short scene makes it easy to see how Ripley would view Newt as a surrogate daughter, risking her own life to rescue her from the depths of the alien hive. But is it an essential scene to understand Ripley’s motivation? I would say the answer is no. From the interaction shown in the movie, it’s believable that Ripley would risk her life to save this child and thus the scene can be cut without diminishing the film.

What these cuts illustrate is that in well-made movies, every scene should be questioned before being included in the final cut. Does this scene serve a purpose? Is this scene needed to advance the plot? Is the movie better with this scene in it and worse without it?

I wish every book author went through this process, especially once they became successful.

When a film franchise becomes successful, the films don’t typically become longer and longer. If anything increases, it’s usually the budget and production values—once you’ve proven something is successful spending more money on it is less of a risk.

When a book franchise becomes successful, the same is not always true. I’ve graphed the page counts of a number of fantasy book series I’ve enjoyed reading: Discworld, Xanth, Harry Potter, and Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter. I’ve only graphed the first ten books in these series with the exception of Harry Potter which consists of just seven books.



First, I love the Discworld books written by Terry Pratchett. Every book he writes is just as long as it needs to be. And funny never gets old—his dialogue, descriptions, observations, and plots always ooze with his unique sense of humor. I’ve read 33 out of the 40 books currently in the series and haven’t grown tired of them yet. His books show a modest increase in size as the series became successful with the 33rd being only 50% longer than the first.

The Xanth series by Piers Anthony is one I started reading when I was in High School and I still have very fond memories of them. I started reading them again as an adult and finished 25 out the 38 currently in the series. The books have always had pun-derived humor, but the latter books began to focus less and less on plot and characters and more and more on puns (which eventually became too pun-ishing for me), so I lost interest in the series. As the graph shows, the length of his first ten books was the most consistent of the four series. This trend continued in his latter books with the 25th being only 9% longer than the first. He clearly has a feel for the length for the stories he wants to tell and crafts his plots to fall within the desired range.

Next is the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. It’s insane to argue about the formula for books as wildly successful as these, but I’m going to remove my tin foil hat and make an attempt.

I can’t think of better examples of how to craft plots than the first three books in this series. Everything in the stories serves a purpose. The pacing is just right and you’re never left waiting for things to happen. The latter books, however, feel bloated in comparison. Subplots abound that serve little purpose in the greater arc of the story and it takes far too long to resolve many issues.

I’m not arguing that the last four books are bad; I enjoyed them. I just think they could have been better. Look at the modest increase in size for books 2 and 3 in the series. Now look at how the page count sky rockets for books 4 and 5. The fifth book in the series is 278% longer than the first. It’s certainly not 278% better.

That’s because more of the same thing is not always the same thing. The experience of eating one piece of candy is not the same as eating one hundred pieces of candy—in one case, you wish you could eat more and in the other you wish you had eaten less.

Making your books twice as long is not twice as much of the same thing—it’s something different. It’s a different formula. It’s New Coke vs. Classic Coke. Even if you like New Coke better, you can’t reasonably argue that it’s the same thing as Classic Coke.

The same is true for the Harry Potter series. The formula for the first three books is clearly different than that for the last four. The expanding plot changed the pacing of the stories for the worse, not the better. It wasn’t enough of a change that I stopped reading the series, but it was enough that I enjoyed the latter stories to a lesser extent.

Finally, there’s the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter novels by Laurell K. Hamilton, which started out strong, but slowly bloated over time. The tenth was the last I read before giving up on the series. It was 241% longer than the original novel—it was also 241% worse.

Here’s the deal. If you have common scenes in every book you write, you have to be really careful with pacing. Once your reader gets through one elaborate description of someone getting dressed, eating a meal, channeling supernatural power, or pulling out a gun during a tense confrontation, reading similar passages becomes less and less interesting. If your books remain the same length, no worries. But if they become longer and longer by including more and more of the same old thing, then you really need to find an editor who’s willing to challenge everything you write, regardless of how well your books are selling.

As a reader, this is my plea to authors. Edit your books like movies. Set a reasonable limit, say 400 pages, and then trim your story, keeping only the best parts, until it fits within that self-imposed limit. Then add pieces back only if you can justify their inclusion.

I’m not saying you can’t write a masterpiece that would be diminished by the omission of a single word—I’m saying that if you think you can, you probably can’t.

Realistic Musicals

When I become Earth Overlord, I'm going to put the kibosh on these so-called realistic superhero movies and TV shows. They’re oxymoronic. If you think Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy is awesomely believable, I’m sorry to inform you that you’re sadly mistaken. 

Here’s the deal: superheroes are like musicals. In real life no one starts spontaneously singing and dancing to snappy show tunes, but that’s pretty much what makes a musical a musical. So you can take the singing, dancing, and humor out of Fiddler on the Roof and call it dark and gritty, but you can't call it a musical. Similarly there are elements of the classic superhero genre that define it. You can’t remove these for realism without redefining the genre. And let’s be really honest; the superhero as depicted in classic comics such as Batman is far more than one or two tiny tweaks away from being realistic. Forget about aliens, radiation-induced superpowers, and magic. The logistics of maintaining a secret identity, changing into costume, and getting to and from your secret lair are realistically insurmountable. Having your superhero speak in a husky voice doesn’t solve any of these issues and in fact draws attention to the unrealistic aspects of the story. There’s a reason why the Batman voice schtick from the Dark Knight trilogy is so frequently parodied: it sounds stupid. Kevin Conroy from Batman: The Animated Series—which is arguably the best Batman to come out of Hollywood—has already solved the problem of using different voices for Bruce Wayne and Batman without sounding like an idiot. There was no need for another solution.

Here’s a thought: If you’re embarrassed by the conventions of the superhero genre, don’t make a superhero movie. If you can buy into Superman shooting fire out of his eyes, but can’t buy into his ‘pair of glasses’ disguise, then maybe you need to make another type of film. Or rather than fixing established characters that aren’t broken in the first place, how about creating new ones that you can make as realistic as you want. Films like Unbreakable and Chronicle come to mind. And if you still insist on making a “realistic” superhero movie, you might want to make the whole thing realistic. Start by getting rid of the part where Bruce Wayne’s broken back is fixed by shoving his spine back into his body and then suspending him from a rope until it mends.