Tag Archives: 1993

A few quick words on “Kong: Skull Island” (2017)

“Kong: Skull Island” doesn’t have the charm and sense of fun of Peter Jackson’s version, but it’s still a first-rate monster movie that I highly recommend.  It’s got a good script, likable characters and terrific special effects.

Parts of it were actually scary.  The first action set-piece is unexpectedly brutal, and there’s a sequence with a giant spider that was a little unnerving, too.  I was surprised at how the filmmakers here so heavily emphasized the story’s action-horror elements.

I had a blast with this, and I’d give it a 9 out of 10.

I have a question — did anyone else notice a reference to “Jurassic Park” (1993)?  At one point, Samuel Jackson’s character tells his companions to “Hang on to your butts.”  Isn’t that his character’s line in “Jurassic Park” when he restores power to the facility, shortly before he gets killed?


Cover to “Batman: The Vengeance of Bane,” Glenn Fabry, 1993

I’ve always had mixed feeling about this classic cover.  The composition is excellent.  Bane and his victims look great.  (I’ve actually got a copy of this autographed by Chuck Dixon and Graham Nolan; they were among my favorite creators when I was fervently collecting comics at college.)

But that’s got to be one of the ugliest Batmans I’ve ever seen, and I don’t think the cowl should look so much like a skull cap.



A very short review of “Cell” (2016)

The lower-budget “Cell” (2016) wasn’t quite the spectacular horror movie that I was hoping for.  (A Stephen King zombie film?!)  But it was still pretty good — I’d give it an 8 out of 10.

The screenwriting and directing are average.  The acting seems uneven too.  And, yes, that includes its curiously low-key performances by John Cusack and Samuel L. Jackson.  But the opening action set piece was well done, and it succeeds in capturing the creepiness and originality of King’s 2006 novel.  What a neat genre-buster too — this is zombie movie meets sci-fi film meets supernatural horror epic meets art-house road movie.  It really is an interesting (and quite divergent) variation of the zombie subgenre.

I’ll go ahead and answer the million dollar question for those who have read the book.  Yes, that widely unpopular ambiguous ending has been changed, and what we are shown is far more conclusive and satisfying.

By the way, this isn’t King’s first venture into zombie horror.  He wrote an excellent short story entitled “Home Delivery,” which I cheerfully recommend.  It’s far closer to mainstream zombie horror, and I think it would appeal to “The Walking Dead” fans.  I first read it in a worn copy of 1989’s “Book of the Dead” zombie anthology; it also appears in 1993’s “Nightmares & Dreamscapes.”


“Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.”

Today is the Ides of March.

I suppose that Marc Antony’s speech from “Julius Caesar,” below, is the Western World’s definitive treatise on sarcasm?

I haven’t read it in its entirety since 10th grade English at Longwood High School.  In doing so now, I’m surprised at how many pop cultural references to it spring to mind:

  1.  The entire speech is beautifully riffed by the eponymous blade-wielding arch-villain in Matt Wagner’s incredible “Grendel: Devil by the Deed” (1993) as follows: “Friends, Romans, city folk — listen to me or I’ll lop off off your ears.  Let’s bury your Caesar and then let’s appraise him.”
  2. I’m guessing that Charles Bronson’s “The Evil That Men Do” (1984) is a reference to the third line?
  3. In at least one episode of “The X Files” in the 1990’s, the Well-Manicured Man angrily refers to the traitorous Syndicate as “these honorable men.”
  4. In one of his later novels (2002’s “The Bear and the Dragon,” maybe?) Tom Clancy describes a pregnant Chinese factory worker as being “made of sterner stuff.”  (I can’t remember which book, but for some strange reason I can remember that line.  Weird.)


Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest–
For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men–
Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.


— from William Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar”


Grendel Devil Tales 1

A comic book tip conundrum: “Daredevil: Fall From Grace” (Chichester, McDaniel, Colazzo, 1993)

I was all set to plug my favorite Daredevil storyline following the success of Marvel’s show on Netflix; now I hesitate.  I absolutely loved 1993’s “Daredevil: Fall From Grace,” written by D. G. Chichester and illustrated by Scott McDaniel and Hector Collazo.  But a simple google search reveals that this is yet another thing that I loved and everyone else apparently hates.  So we can file it right alongside certain 90’s artifacts like “Alien 3” (1992), “Knightfall” (1993), and “Wyatt Earp” (1994).

Man, the reaction to this was poor, despite its high sales upon release.  I actually do understand the criticisms.  It’s a complicated story, into which various unrelated characters from the Marvel universe are shoehorned.  (A “virus” bioengineered by the Defense Department can “remake what it infects” into anything at all, granting the infected with whatever superpowers they wish.  Various Marvel villains and anti-heroes arrive in New York to compete for its discovery, after its loss decades ago in the subway system is made known.)

People hated “Fall From Grace,” describing it as convoluted and difficult to follow.  They said Chichester’s writing was incomprehensible and too wordy.  The experimental new art style by Scott McDaniel was described as “murky” and equally hard to follow.  Today, people wonder why the widely panned story was ever even collected into trade paperback.  (It’s pricey, by the way.)

Maybe I’m just nuts, but … this is one of my favorite comic book storylines of all time.  I absolutely would not recommend it to a reader new to Daredevil, as I recommended Frank Miller and John Romita Jr.’s “Daredevil: The Man Without Fear” on Monday.  In fact, it might only really be enjoyed by someone with at least a bit of familiarity with the Marvel universe.

Yes, Chichester’s writing was lengthy and verbose.  But I loved his sometimes poetic and always mood-setting exposition, and his dialogue occasionally really shined.  I forgave the story for inserting characters with whom I was unfamiliar.  “Hellspawn” (and his Jamaican accent?) was entirely new to me, but damn if that monster didn’t make a unique and frightening enemy for Daredevil.  (He’s the demonic looking, tiger-like “doppleganger” you see pictured in the first cover below.)

And look at that art.  Certainly, it wasn’t to everybody’s taste.  It was abstract, minimalist, dark, and it often lacked detail. It was almost … impressionistic?  But I loved it.  The radically altered style was perfectly suited to this new, much darker tone and story.  (There was a hell of a lot of pathos in this storyline, including torture and assassination at the hands of the government.)  It was full of shadow and dark color, served the story’s mood perfectly, and it was nothing like I’d seen in a comic book before.

I couldn’t honestly recommend buying this in trade paperback, given the fact the entire world except me seemed unhappy with it.  But, hey …  if you can borrow it from a friend or the library, then check it out.  Maybe you’ll find some of the magic in it that I did.