Astro City goes to the movies

Kurt Busiek’s Astro City has been oiptioned by Working Title:

Working Title Films partners Tim Bevan and Eric Fellner have made a deal to turn Kurt Busiek’s graphic novel series Astro City into a live action feature. The deal gives the prolific comic book writer Busiek his first chance to write the script. Launched in 1995, the series has a Sin City anthology vibe, set in a world crammed with superheros and super-villains. Stories are told from the vantage point of those heroes and villains, as well as the humans who get caught between them. Heroes range from Samaritan, The Hanged Man, The Apollo Eleven–a group of astronauts mutated during a moon landing–to Winged Beauty, a feisty feminist who always saves women first. The series has won multiple Eisner and Harvey Awards for Busiek, who created the series with artists Brent Anderson and Alex Ross.

Don’t puzzle too much about that Sin City reference; that’s just the last sort of arty superheroesque movie to make it big in Hollywood, so it’s de rigeur to mention with this sort of project… I’m not sure how well Astro City will work on the big screen: it depends very much on the story adapted. Seeing Kurt himself involved is a good sign; he’ll know how to go about it.

Back when Astro City started, in 1995, I dedicated my first website to it, which for a while was one of the best visited sites at my uni, especially after Kurt mentioned in an early issue. You can see the remains at kbac.orcon.net.nz. I haven’t really kept up with the series after I got fed up with comics in 2000; I should start again.

Hero for Hire

Think of this video as Isaiah Mustafa’s audition for the role of Luke Cage masquerading as an Old Spice blipvert:



I would love a wellmade Powerman movie, but it might turn out to be another Daredevil. As a character Luke Cage was originally nothing more than a watered down, code safe blackploitation cash-in, but still strong enough to carry his own title for fifty issues and the one he shared with his friend the white fictional martial arts artist for another seventyfive. Doing a film with him can be done, as long as it is recognisably set in New York and manages to walk a fine line between too mundane and too outrageous. You don’t want it to become just a blackploitation homage, but neither do you need the full on superheroics of a X-Men movie for example.

Harvey Pekar and the Unrepentant Marxist

final page of the unreleased biography of Louis Proyect as written by Harvey Pekar

Louis Proyect remembers Harvey Pekar and what might be his last ever project:

Harvey is not much of a talker–at least he wasn’t that night up at my place. He had a tendency to interject “ya knows” into just about every sentence and seemed a bit out of it. So, to pass the time I began telling him about my past. Growing up in the Catskill Mountains resort area when people like Sid Caesar were coming up. Living above the Kentucky Club and hanging out with Jewish boxing legend Barney Ross, a greeter at the club, on the sidewalk where he would show me how to put up my dukes. Joining the SWP and going to Houston where I had a relationship with a woman comrade who had just quit her job as an exotic dancer. Dropping out of the SWP after a Chaplinesque stint as a spot welder. And all the rest.

[…]

Speaking on my own behalf, I would say that “Unrepentant Marxist” is a terrific book largely due to the incredible work done by artist Summer McClinton. The book is written in a kind of Jewish stand-up comedian style with lots of political observations familiar to anybody who reads this blog, including my evolution since 1981 after coming into contact with Peter Camejo, who is a major presence in the book. Ironically, I had plans to send Harvey a copy of Peter’s memoir in the next day or so. I should add that one of the last times I heard from Harvey was the day that Peter’s obit appeared in the NY Times.

I have no idea what is going to happen with this book but—believe me—I will not rest until it can be read by the public. I don’t have much use for publishing houses, or any other capitalist firm for that matter, and will make sure to remind them that this book was important to Harvey Pekar, one of the outstanding dissident voices of our era.

Louis has mentioned this comix biograpy before, but seeing that page has really whetted my appetite. It’s been interesting if sad to see how widely known Harvey Pekar was, not just for the American Splendor movie or the Letterman appearances, but for his comics. He was a central and singular figure in the development of American comics, his influence undeniable on the generations of “alt comics” cartoonists that came after him, especially those that went the (auto)biographical route. He also proved that you could do serious, personal work in comics as a writer in partnership with an artist — or even a second writer, as in Our Cancer Year with Joyce Brabner and Frank Stack as illustrator. All this means he would obviously be remembered by the wider comics community, but appreciations have also sprung out outside of it, as bloggers like Louis and Roy Edroso remembered him yesterday.

As for myself, I haven’t read as much of his work as I should’ve, apart from the abovementioned Our Cancer Year, not out of lack of interest so much as out of a simple lack of opportunity. For a much more knowledgeable appreciation of Harvey Pekar and his work than I could give, see Tom Spurgeon.

The goggles do nothing


Isambard Kingdom Brunel is tired of steampunk. By Kate Beacon

In the past two-three years steampunk has mutated from a science fiction sub-subgenre derived of cyberpunk into something of a lifestyle, taken up by goths looking for something new to be mopey in and hipsters looking for the next ironic thing. It’s been going on for longer of course, but it broke the ‘net’s awareness threshold only recently. In the process steampunk has been stripped of all meaning, as the above Kate Beacon strip refers to, reduced to a series of tropes and fashion accessories. Nothing wrong with playing a bit of dressup, but it has become so ubiqitous now it’s starting to piss people off, as the following heartfelt rant by Philip Reeve shows, already deleted from his website but still in Google’s cache:

No, the problem that I have with Steampunk as a genre is that it’s basically dead. Returning again and again to the same tiny pool of imagery, the writers of Steampunk are doomed to endless repetition. What I used to love about Science Fiction as a teenager was the way that, when you picked up one of those yellow Gollancz SF titles at the library, you had no idea where it would take you; it might be to some dazzling technological future or post-apocalyptic wasteland; it might be to another planet; or it might all be set in the present, just around the corner. But when you pick up a Steampunk book you know pretty much exactly where you’re going; it will take place in an ‘alternate’ nineteenth century which will be neither as complex nor as interesting as the actual nineteenth century. There will be airships; rich villains will be hatching plots involving clockwork and oppressing the workers; rich heroes will see the error of their ways. Most of the characters will not display any of the attitudes or beliefs of the past, but will act and speak like modern people in Victorian fancy dress.

[…]

Steampunk is a genre cul-de-sac: it’s Science Fiction for people who know nothing about science; historical romance for readers whose knowledge of history comes from costume dramas.

I can understand where Reeve is coming from, though he’s stacking the deck somewhat by comparing science fiction with steampunk. If you look at any of science fiction’s subgenres, be it steam or cyberpunk, or planetary romance or space opera or whatever it will seem more limited and codified than the field as a whole, but that’s comparing an entire forest with one of its trees… If you look at the mainstream works within any given (sub)genre, science fictional or otherwise, these works will tend to resemble each other, with the interesting/innovative stuff happening at the borders where genres meet. But there’s nothing wrong with being a well written genre work that does not confound expectations either. What Reeve sees as the problems of steampunk in the first quoted paragraph, are not faults of the genre, but rather of lazy writers taking the set of assembled cliches and not doing much with them. A better writer could take all these cliches and get more out of them.

Reeve is more on the mark in the second paragraph I quoted. He’s echoed by Steampunk Scholar, who is obviously more tolerant of the subculture [1]:

While there are steampunks who have read the original three (Jeter, Powers, and Blaylock), who watched Wild, Wild, West when it had nothing to do with Will Smith or giant steam-spiders, there are those who seem to think that steampunk is the product of the last three years of what I would call the steampunk boom years. Few steampunks read, and even fewer have read early steampunk, or proto-steampunk like Pavane or Nomad of the Time Streams, to say nothing of the handful that have actually read Verne and Wells. So I’m not too surprised when steampunks display an ignorance for the literary origins of the sub-culture.

Steampunk as a literary genre speaks to a weird sort of nostalgia for an era none of its writers or readers have lived through, unlike e.g. sixties nostalgia which is largely driven by baby boomers remembering their childhood. Instead, it’s nostalgia at a remote, based on media recreations of the era like the Disney adaptations of Jules Verne novels or the various movies of Classic Victorian novels. In science fiction it is perhaps as much driven by a nostalgia for earlier eras of science fiction itself, as much as an aesthetic preference for the look and feel of victoriana. It’s no coincidence that the first wave of steampunk novels or steampunk precursors, like the two examples Steampunk Scholar gives, Pavane and Nomad of the Time Streams were written in the late sixties and early seventies, after the New Wave had completely reimaged science fiction. There was something of a nostalgia backlash going on in science fiction then, even amongst those like Moorcock who had been the driving force behind the New Wave. Yet at the same time, how Moorcock (or Harry Harrison in A Transatlantic Tunnel, Hurray! amongst others) used steampunk was as much as to criticise the contemporary world around them as much as it was an escape to “a simpler time”. There was a political element to those early works that may well be lacking in contemporary steampunk.

It should not come as a surprise that proto-steampunk or early steampunk is more interesting, more eclectic than those works currently sold as cyberpunk: the same happened with cyberpunk before it and the New Wave before that. It’s the difference between novels written as a singular enterprise and those written within the knowledge and expectations of an already defined genre. And of course genres mutate over the course of their lives; how much does contemporary steampunk still have to do with the examples Steampunk Scholar mentions of earlier works? How much is complaining about people not knowing their history justified and how much is it just yelling at those kids to get off your lawn?

[1] Both posts found via my namesake.