Initial Sketch for the ‘Rags and Muffin’ Cover!

Alas, I can’t display it this time, but I have received the initial sketch for the cover of Rags and Muffin. For this one, I’ve contracted a professional company, and I don’t want to give any details yet until I’ve been through the whole experience, as I don’t think it would be professional to do otherwise. But I received the initial sketch today and sent my feedback. I’m quite excited to see what the final version will look like.

I’m planning to spend this evening adding the new internal illustrations I’ve received to the chapter headers, and then the manuscript will be in its true, final form. If the company I’m working with continues at its present pace, I should be able to meet the October 1st release date.

Anyway, I’ve been out of commission for the last several days. The baby caught a cold, her second—which is pretty good, I think, since I have read that babies in their first year can get as many as ten. Only two in eight months isn’t bad. I didn’t get her first cold, so I figured that my grown-up immune system was too strong for whatever baby diseases she was coming down with. That’s why I didn’t stop her when, during her second cold, she decided to chew on my nose.

To make a long story short, that is the sickest I have been in years. It lasted almost two weeks for both me and the baby. For the baby, it turned into an ear infection and a mild case of pneumonia, so she went on antibiotics. It was threatening to turn into pneumonia with me, too.

Both of us are now recovering. I had a long weekend thanks to Labor Day, but I got nothing done. I spent it on the couch, coughing and complaining and reading until my wife, tired of my whining, finally cured me with a magical noodle soup.

While sick, I got through a number of books I should have read already but hadn’t for one reason or another, including 20,000 Leagues under the Sea, The Island of Doctor Moreau, and King Solomon’s Mines. I also read a disappointing and deservedly forgotten sequel to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Lost World called The Poison Belt.

I might discuss The Island of Doctor Moreau later, mostly because the 1996 movie adaptation is a scarce-to-be-believed legend in the history of film disasters.

New ‘Madoka Magica’ Movie Announced

 

There is a new trailer now available for a second sequel to Puella Magi Madoka Magica, the magical-girl title from Studio Shaft that reshaped the magical-girl genre.

This new movie is entitled, deep breath, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica Movie: Walpurgis no Kaiten. I assume an official English-language release, when and if it happens, will bring the title back into line with the other English-language titles (i.e., have “Puella Magi” instead of “Mahou Shoujo”).

No release date appears to be available as of this writing.

This is the fourth movie. The first two were a reshaping of the twelve-episode television series, and the third, Puella Magi Madoka Magica: Rebellion was a sequel, which famously reversed the first’s already controversial themes. The creators indicated at the time that they did not consider the story complete yet, so it is possible that this fourth film, which has been a long time in coming, will be the finale to the Madoka saga.

I have to admit I have never seen Rebellion. Not only is it harder to find in the U.S. than the original series is, but I have never bothered to look for it for the same reason I’ve never been able to bring myself to watch The Godfather: Part II. The original is such a masterpiece, and so complete in itself, that I feel no need to see it continue. The fate of Madoka at the end of the original show is about as final as a character’s fate can get, so I sincerely doubt there is any way to continue her story that will not feel contrived to me.

Also, I must admit that I am ambivalent about Madoka: It is unquestionably one of the greatest magical-girl stories of all time, but what it has done to the genre has not been good: It was followed by too many imitators eager to copy its angst or its violence without understanding the purpose of either. I once naïvely hoped that Yuki Yuna Is a Hero, which openly challenged Madoka’s themes, might close out the “Madoka era,” but that was not to be.

Perhaps the true answer to Madoka has not yet been made. Princess Tutu, which was created as an answer to Revolutionary Girl Utena, successfully refuted Utena’s ideas in part because it was Utena’s artistic equal. You can set those two shows side by side and note that both, though flawed, are excellent works that stand shoulder to shoulder. However, the series that can both answer Madoka and stand beside it unembarrassed has not yet been made.

‘Sailor Moon Eternal’ Headed to Netflix

Netflix just announced that Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Eternal the Movie (yes, that is the title) will be available worldwide on . I’m crossing my fingers that the original Japanese will be available in the U.S.

This movie is a sequel to the troubled Sailor Moon Crystal series, which sought to hew closer to its source material than the much-beloved Nineties anime did. Poor animation and several other bad choices hindered it. The movie, at least, is likely to have a higher quality than the television series, or so we hope—I can’t help but notice that the teaser trailer is nothing but transformations and attacks, which always have the most impressive animation in a magical-girl show. So we’ll have to wait and see whether the rest of the film is as good.

As you may recall, I have previously discussed Sailor Moon Super S, which is the original anime’s interpretation of this same story arc. Fans generally consider Super S the weakest entry in the Nineties anime, so it will be interesting to see how Eternal the Movie compares. It will, at least, have a lower bar to clear than Sailor Moon Crystal did.

Movie Review: ‘Fatman’

Fatman, written and directed by Ian and Eshom Nelms. Mel Gibson, Walton Goggins, and Chance Hurstfield. Saban Films, . 100 minutes. Rated R.

As it develops, every genre slides steadily from idealism to cynicism to nihilism, and the genre of Christmas movies is no exception. Reveling in how mold-breaking it allegedly is, Fatman is, in fact, predictable and formulaic, though that doesn’t prevent some good performances from salvaging what is overall a lackluster film.

Competent but unspectacular direction, silly action sequences, a dull script, and duller set design mortally wound what might have been a quirkily fun movie featuring heartfelt deliveries from Mel Gibson, Marianne Jeanne-Baptiste, and a scenery-chewing Walton Goggins. The movie strains for serious commentary on the implications of Santa Claus’s role as a commercial mascot but fails to make any salient points. I wanted to like this movie because I thought it had a lot of promise, and I laughed several times while watching it, but I still walked away thinking about how much better it might have been.

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Netflix Pisses Off Pretty Much Everybody with ‘Cuties’

As you can see from the meme collage at the head of this post, the streaming service Netflix absolutely loves it some dirty, sexy kids. In the last couple of days, this fact has become apparent not just to the few edgelords talking about it on /pol/, but to everybody, as Netflix has advertised its acquisition of a French movie called Cuties, which made it big at Sundance.

What’s remarkable is that, although Cuties has a handful of defenders, this is one case where almost everyone seems to be pissed off. The left-right divide, over this one film, has evaporated: Everyone is angry. For a brief moment, our fractured nation is united in mutual offendedness and outrage. Maybe now we can begin to heal.

What sparked the controversy is the poster Netflix chose to advertise the film—a poster notably different from the original French version, which Netflix apparently created on the unwise assumption that it would appeal more to American audiences. The poster has so outraged some that I have even seen an individual I admire and respect begging people not to share it, even to criticize. Because I don’t think we can talk about this without depicting, in some fashion, what we are talking about, I’ve decided to share the poster, but only after the break. Consider yourself warned.

This movie, Cuties in English and Mignonnes in French, is about a group of eleven-year-old girls who dance. That brief description sounds inoccuous, even charming, but wait until I tell you that the film achieved an NC-17 rating and will be rated TV-MA when it appears on Netflix next month. As you likely know, NC-17 is the rating that replaced X; this is an X-rated film about eleven-year-olds.

After the break comes the poster, and then I will discuss how Netflix chose to describe the movie, what people are mad about, and so forth.

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Movie Review: ‘Sonic the Hedgehog’

Sonic the Hedgehog, directed by Jeff Fowler. Written by Pat Casey and Josh Miller. Starring Ben Schwartz, James Marsden, and Jim Carrey. Paramount Pictures, 2020. Rated PG.

 Sonic the Hedgehog is probably most memorable not for its content but for its disastrous roll-out, which will be the stuff of movie legend: Early previews delivered a weird design for the famous blue hedgehog, who had creepy, tiny eyes and bizarre proportions. After this received overwhelmingly negative responses from fans, presaging a bomb, the studio hastily redid the character model to bring it in line with Sonic’s appearance in video games and cartoons.

The original, disturbing design for Sonic the Hedgehog.

The end result was the—so far—highest-grossing movie based on a video game. At least part of that box-office success was driven by the goodwill of fans impressed that a studio had listened to their complaints.

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Tod on Historical Armor

Came across this interesting video from Tod’s Workshop on why movie props in “sword-and-sandal” films are often inaccurate. As he explains, the reasons are often purely practical rather than because of poor research.

There are interesting points here. In a few of these cases, I can possibly think of ways of getting around these problems. He points out, for example, that sabatons—pointed armor shoes&dmash;are a safety hazard on-set. He’s undoubtedly right, though they could possilby get around that by making them with rubber instead of metal, something that’s often done in movies anyway for armor or other props used in stunts.

Some of his other points, though, are things that probably couldn’t be got around easily: Brightly colored props causing strobing in the camera, helmets covering A-list actors’ faces, and swords with sharp points presenting an insurmountable safety issue.

Cherry 2000!

I am, against my better judgment, presently working my way through the anime adaptation of Chobits in order to write my long-promised essay on the same. In the process, however, I have inadvertently discovered that the campfest Cherry 2000, which I haven’t seen since I was a kid, is available free and legal on YouTube.

So I’m going to watch that, and I’ll put up a review when I’m finished. This will be relevant to my discussion of Chobits, since Cherry 2000 is about a man who goes looking for a replacement for his robot sex doll and finds a real woman instead—almost the opposite of Chobits’s plot.

I’m kind of excited in a silly sort of way. The last time I saw this movie, I was a little kid and came across it randomly while flipping channels in a motel room. My reaction was along the lines of, “What the hell is this?”

Comic Book/Movie Review: ‘The Crow’

A rare instance in which the film is (arguably) superior to the book.

The Crow by J. O’Barr. Kitchen Sink Press, 1994. $15.95. ISBN 0-87816-221-6.

The Crow, written by David A. Schow. Directed by Alex Proyas. Starring Brandon Lee, Rochelle Davis, and Ernie Hudson. Lionsgate, 1994. 102 minutes. Rated R.

Recently, I serendipitous stumbled upon a copy of the graphic novel collecting the original series of The Crow, and immediately devoured it. I then followed it up with the film adaptation, which I had not previously seen.

The comic, which began as a short tale but turned into a long-running series, reads like a primal scream. Overwrought, pretentious, and sometimes sloppy, it is the brainchild of one James O’Barr, who created it as a means of dealing with a personal tragedy—the exact nature of which I have not learned and assume is none of my business. Although decidedly undisciplined as art of either the visual or storytelling variety, it is emotionally raw, so it is no surprise that it struck a chord with many readers and found a devoted fan following.

The interest in the graphic novel was enough to lead, in 1994, to a film adaptation. The movie takes a lot of liberty with its source material, turning O’Barr’s visceral cry of pain into a structured story with more character development, higher stakes, and a markedly different tone. Although well received by critics (and I can say it holds up over time), it is a cult classic in large part because of its star: Brandon Lee, son of Bruce Lee, took the titular role as the bird-themed goth-punk antihero but—with only eight days left to the production—died during filming from an improperly cleaned gun. His performance, though lacking the gravitas the role requires, has charisma and suggests a talent that might have developed had his life not been cut short.

Given this morbidly poetic on-set tragedy, to criticize the movie harshly almost seems sacrilegious.

Continue reading “Comic Book/Movie Review: ‘The Crow’”

Further Reflections on ‘Krampus’

On my interpretation of the ending of Krampus, a reader has given a thoughtful commentary that deserves to be quoted in full:

A Christmas Carol can be seen as an early post-Christian artifact, with firm roots in Christianity that late Victorians and early Edwardians were beginning to see, in the light of scientific materialism, as a mythology like any other. This idea of religion as a source of moral guidance, exhortation, and cultural identity is the reason, in my opinion, for the enduring appeal of Dickens’ tale for us today. We are all post-Christians now, [or] at least we swim in a sea of post-Christianity. If we are anti-spiritual, we tend to be children of de Sade, doing good or bad depending on how we feel, because nothing is true and everything is permitted. If we figure “there must be something out there”, we are usually children of Crowley, and we syncretize whatever myths and legends suit us so we can justify whatever we want to do. We can dream of heaven, and aspire to be angels by our own efforts, but our home is hell, really, and most of us make our peace with it sooner or later.

Krampus is clearly a post-Christian film, and eager to mine the riches of Western Christianity for entertainment. As our culture falls further and further from the idea that there can be such a thing as the truth, and a God who is merciful enough to guide us to it, my hope is for signs of Grace. Will God truly lead the blind on their journey, by paths unknown? In presenting a version of hell as a place of punishment for evil, even in jest, does even a trashy movie like Krampus serve the truth unwittingly?

I don’t want to trivialize the plight of atheists and modern pagans who have no malice, but are simply following the indications of intelligent people who have concluded that there is no God. In the face of a seemingly meaningless universe, is the basis of morality simply the skill and persuasiveness of one’s own meta-narrative? One of our foremost moralists is Oscar Wilde, who wrote one of the best post-Christian fables ever written—”The Selfish Giant.” He converted on his deathbed, but during his life, he could not gather the strength to fight past the prevailing materialism of his day. As our peers engage in the same struggle, it seems heartless to think that pop art cannot have some role in turning our thoughts to the eternal. Maybe Krampus can do that, in a way, while not pandering to “Hallmark” Christian sensibilities.

My Comments:

There is a lot to unpack there. However we approach these dense three paragraphs, I think he is correct that Krampus is a “post-Christian” film. As I argued in my last commentary upon it, Krampus is a deeply Christian character (hypothetical pre-Christian roots notwithstanding), but the film is careful to avoid mention of any specifically religious purpose to the holiday that celebrates the birth of Christ. The movie also deliberately detaches Krampus from the plainly ethical purpose that he previously served: His job, as with most of the companions of Saint Nicholas, was to whip or at least threaten naughty children. In the horror movie, however, his job is to mercilessly destroy anyone who loses some nebulous “Christmas spirit.”

Ironically, this revamped and secularized role for Krampus is more in keeping with the maudlin and commercialized notions of Christmas that the movie artfully skewers in its opening scenes than it is with the original purpose of the holiday. After the filmmakers mock Christmas for becoming crass and commercialized, they might have pointed out what Christmas is really about—and what role Krampus might play in it. But they didn’t have the guts for that, or maybe didn’t have the knowledge or insight, so the result is a schlock horror film with a few laughs and a few thrills but not much of a point.

As for the notion in the final sentences of the comment, that Krampus might turn our thoughts to the eternal, I will say that I found its image of the mouth of hell to be quite frightening—but I am also aware that I say that as a Christian. I similarly found the image of hell at the end of The Mummy Returns frightening. Someone of a different background and different viewpoint, however, might find these images of hell merely thrilling in a theme-park or horror-movie kind of way.

Yes, we can maybe dig some deep themes out of Krampus, but I think it is next to impossible if we don’t already have an understanding of the mythological character and the religious basis of the Christmas holiday. As it stands, the movie is mostly an undemanding and shallow thrill ride.