Skip to main content

"Nothing Ever Ends."

It’s hard to believe that almost 23 years has elapsed since I first started reading the DC comic book Watchmen as a callow teenager in Roscommon, not yet a senior in high school. By that time, I had plenty of comics under my mental belt, but they were of the usual Marvel ilk: Spider-Man, ROM Spaceknight, Moon Knight, The Incredible Hulk, The Fantastic Four, X-Men, anything by John Byrne (he was my first autograph!), and so on.

This was not to say I was a complete Marvel Zombie, buying every single title they released. I also sampled the odd smaller press curve thrown in the mix (the late lamented Dreadstar, where I had my first fan letter published, and Comico releases like Elementals and Grendel) but I was a mainstream kid all the way. Oddly, however, this mainstream didn’t include much from DC; I saw the Distinguished Competition as somehow inferior to the real-world-yet-larger-than-life work Marvel was kicking out in the ‘80s. (Fuck Crisis On Infinite Earths…give me Secret Wars any day.) DC was a non-entity on my reading radar until two limited series from 1986 crossed my path: The Dark Knight Returns (from Frank Miller, who would go on to create Sin City and 300) and Watchmen. And while Miller’s work was gritty and hard-edged, writer Alan Moore and artist Dave Gibbons (both Brits) created an entire new reality, down to the littlest details, that blew my still-cohering brain.

Now, there’s no way in hell that the film will get to cover everything, as there’s just not enough time. (I’ve often thought that it should have been a twelve-part mini-series on Showtime or HBO, but slavish imitation of the comic – as seen in the film versions of Sin City and 300 – would be a pointless venture to those that have cherished the comic for these many years.) I just want to be certain that the essence is captured, and director Zack Snyder seems to have a good talent in that regard; his was the re-imagining of Dawn Of The Dead from ’04, as well as the aforementioned 300. I’m just not sure that the general population is ready to see “super heroes” in this light; it took comic readers decades to arrive at the point where a penetrating deconstruction like Watchmen resonated, but have movie goers reached that point as well? Guess we’ll find out tomorrow. And I’ll find out in IMAX.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"The Silver Gun" by Robert Palmer (1983)

I mean...Urdu? Seriously, Urdu . On an already eclectic and worldly album -- Pride , from 1983 -- "The Silver Gun" closes a chapter in Robert Palmer's career by singing a song about a horse in a language spoken daily by over 100 million people. The liquid bass line and propulsive electronics set out a bedrock for Palmer to ping phrasings rather out of place in Western music, askew astride even the peripatetic minimalism of the rest of the record. Somehow, in the middle of Michigan's Appalachia, I had this on vinyl a few years before the CD era officially commenced. It was an album of effort -- even the cover, a pointillism-and-bronze work, had Palmer's head barely above the water -- but the stitches didn't show to my pre-adolescent eyes and ears. In a career marked by zigs and zags, Pride and "The Silver Gun" were most certainly Other, and for a kid that felt like he didn't belong much of anywhere, it was nice to have those discrete feeling...

Some 2024 Listening Pleasures

It started with a gift of two JBL Control 25 speakers, and by "gift" I mean "borrowed" -- a.k.a. "will never return" -- from an obsolete tech detritus pile at work. I may have snagged more than two gifts, of course, but the raw footage proving such a claim remains elusive. And after installing the JBL speakers into the upper corners of the music room, and after installing speaker stands for the rear speakers I already had, and after making the hard choice between a big-ass bean bag and a comfy leather recliner to properly center myself in the audio field (R.I.P., big-ass bean bag), there was only one missing piece: the Apple TV 4K unit. So for me, 2024 was the year I streamed a lot of music in Atmos through Apple Music, surrounded by new tunes and old bops in thrilling new dimensions. Some might say you don't need surround sound, 'cos the two ears + two speakers modality has been dandy for a while now, but that's like saying you don't need ...

The Natural's Not In It

  For nearly seven years on the button, Courtney and I lived on Perch Lake, just outside of Gaylord. Right next to Perch Lake was The Natural Golf Course, eighteen holes that twisted and turned through the best nature that the 45th Parallel could offer. The picture above is the view of the first green, and if you left the wooden bridge to the right and briefly ambled through the woods and over a rusted metal fence, you'd get right to our old driveway. Every now and again, an errant golf ball would appear at the edge of our property, like a single egg laid by an itinerant duck. Of the three major elitist sports -- golf, tennis, skiing -- I golfed because the barrier to entry was pretty low and the interest in golf on my Dad's side of the family was high, from playing the sport to watching it on television on the weekends. As spare clubs were abundant and my growth spurt had yet to overwhelm statistical norms, my grandmother would take prepubescent me to the Roscommon driving ran...