The New York Times lets us in on what Alan Moore’s up to at the moment. Perhaps the most promising development: “I can conclusively prove that death is a perspective illusion of the third dimension and that none of us have anything to worry about.” Phew! Major sigh of relief there.
Thanks to Joe Stafford for letting me know about this.
Harvey Pekar died a few days ago. I started reading his comic book, “American Splendor,” when he started publishing it in the late 1970’s. Why did I buy those early issues? Two words: R. Crumb. It was an interesting time for comics — undergrounds had already died, but now we had graphic realism, in the form of Pekar’s work, and what Crumb’s comics were evolving into, and what is generally recognized as the graphic novel, Will Eisner’s “A Contract with God.” I bought and appreciated all these things.
I also met Mr. Pekar a few times. While I admired his work, I never enjoyed meeting him. His curmudgeonly appearances on David Letterman’s show weren’t an act; if anything, speaking with him in person was worse. Whenever I told him that I bought his comics and books and enjoyed his work, his response was a glare and a snarl. I’ve hung out with movie stars and sideshow freaks who treated their fans better. The last time I saw Pekar, a couple of years ago at the legendarily jam-packed Comic-Con in San Diego, he was the only person anywhere near his table. In the middle of 135,000 bodies in motion, his table was the doughnut hole of activity. Everyone gave him a wide berth, and I understood why.
Although I faithfully bought all his comics and books, I found much of the writing slack. It isn’t compelling to observe the dailiness of life if you have no observations to make, and in general, Pekar didn’t. His novelty was that he was among the first to put this sort of unwashed realism into comics form. Absent the work of some of his artists — Crumb, but also Frank Stack, and especially Budgett and Dumm — many of the stories wouldn’t hold any interest. I’m not alone in this opinion.
What was the best of Harvey Pekar’s work? Moreso than the comics, or his books, or his newspaper and magazine writing, or the movie adaptation, the best Harvey Pekar work I ever came across was the stage adaptation I saw around 1990 at Theatre/Theater in Los Angeles. The show was deceptively simple — Dan Castellaneta (of “The Simpsons”) and an ensemble of supporting actors, and some theatre cubes. The cubes got restacked at times to form filing cabinets (Pekar was a file clerk) or to serve as a table and chairs, or to stand in for the front seats in a car. The writing was fast and funny and loose. The actors did a great job of fleshing out the characters from the comics; even the man who played Mr. Boats, who was clearly not an actor per se, but someone they found because of his physical similarity to the actual person, did fine. I went to see the play three times, then saw it again when the producers took it to the Comic-Con and did it again. Twenty years later, I’m still lifting ideas from that show. I was glad to be in LA and able to see such things (and it felt lousy when the movie mocked what had been a terrific, sold-out, award-winning show).
I’ve always wished I could see that show again. I can’t — but tonight, in tribute to Harvey Pekar, we can listen to a shortened radio version of it once last time, at 7:30, Pacific Time, on Santa Monica’s KCRW. It won’t be available on demand or podcast. So if you’d like to hear it, here’s your one (and only?) chance.
What would I do with it? Unless the Red Skull shows up in town, absolutely nothing. Except regard it lovingly from time to time.
Stan Lee on last night’s Craig Ferguson show. It’s nine minutes long, but well worth watching all of it. Stan is loose and funny and vainglorious and quick-witted — all of which must have been central to his success, and which almost must have driven his collaborators (I’m sorry, co-creators), to drink.
Every year now, comics fans who attend the Comic-Con in San Diego complain that it’s too crowded. But what would it be like if someone threw a comic-book convention at a big convention center and no one came? This video, shot this weekend at the Pasadena Rock ‘n’ Comic Convention, answers that question.
In which a penguin chased by a pod of killer whales outsmarts all of them.
(Which doesn’t explain how this guy keeps getting away.)
The LA Times’ Geoff Boucher provides a nice obit for Frank Frazetta in today’s LA Times. Note the quote from Guillermo del Toro (of “Pan’s Labyrinth,” and perhaps the best two comic-book movies yet, “Hellboy” and “Hellboy 2”), who certainly knows his way around visual fantasy.
In Boucher, the Times has a pop culture critic and writer who understands and appreciates comics and all their affiliated passions, removing some of the sting from the newspaper coverage we grew up with — the “Pow! Biff! Bam!” gosh-wow features built around just what those attic treasures are worth, and the quaint profiles of elderly broken-backed artists who “still draw funnybooks” and never got to pursue serious art. When Boucher talks about Frazetta, and his impact, and elicits supporting quotes from respected sources, he lends credibility to the idea that Frazetta was our version of Norman Rockwell.
I’ve read many Founding Fathers biographies. Still, I learned a great deal about George Washington from this one. Much of this stuff should give the Tea Partiers pause.
Just like Christmas, Free Comic Book Day is a day that the kid inside us wishes came every day.
Click here to locate your nearest participating comics shop — and the list of free comics. And then do what I’m going to do: Round up some kids — actual kids — and take them to a comics shop. Last year was a highly memorable occasion: My daughter got to meet “Supergirl” and “Wonder Woman,” and got a sketch from a professional artist. That sketch still hangs in her room, and the memory of “Supergirl” and “Wonder Woman” lingers in my memory.
