"We are all in the gutter, but some of us..."
Taking Trash Seriously.
"...are looking at the stars."
-- Oscar Wilde
June 18, 2004
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This site is updated Thursday afternoon with a new article about an artistic pursuit generally considered to be beneath consideration. James Schellenberg probes science-fiction, Carol Borden draws out the best in comics, Chris Szego dallies with romance and Ian Driscoll stares deeply into the screen. Click here for their bios and individual takes on the gutter.

While the writers have considerable enthusiasm for their subjects, they don't let it numb their critical faculties. Tossing away the shield of journalistic objectivity and refusing the shovel of fannish boosterism, they write in the hopes of starting honest and intelligent discussions about these oft-enjoyed but rarely examined artforms.


Recent Features


ROUND THE DECAY OF THAT COLOSSAL WRECK

Watchmen 80.jpgIn the run-up to, and wake of, the release of Watchmen, it has become common currency to say that adapting Zach Snyder, et al undertook a massive challenge in adapting Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ complex, sprawling medium- and genre-defining work for the screen.

But I’m going to suggest that they actually undertook an even more massive challenge: adapting Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ complex, sprawling medium- and genre-defining work for the screen - and completely missing its point.

Continue reading...


The Love Song of the Black Lagoon

Lagoon 2 80.jpgWe have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By gillmen wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
--sorta T.S. Eliot

Do you hear that? Off in the distance? A song too beautiful to be real but somehow... familiar? The song twines over the water, through the cattails and the woods, into the window, eighth notes swirling all around. The creature in the lagoon is singing. He's not dead after all and who are we to resist him and the “centuries of passion pent up in his savage heart?"

Continue reading...


Zahn's Star Wars; Or, Will This Death be Permanent?

coruscant-small.jpgA scrappy rebellion, a victory against an evil overlord, leftover spaceships in the dark outer reaches of the galaxy, warriors with extraordinary powers (nearly wiped out), now on the verge of a comeback. Laughs, thrills, moments of sadness, moments of sheer action. Exciting stuff! And oh yeah, it's a Star Wars tie-in novel.

Continue reading...


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Rapid Progress

by Guy Leshinski
Why the pen makes the man. Take a moment to pore over a panel in Tony Millionaire's stylish comic Maakies. Ignore, for now, the charming antiquities -- the florid prose and oppressive minutiae, the eyes empty of pupils -- and pay close attention to the line itself. See how Drinky Crow's bottle of hooch is sculpted with stiff strokes, a thick, languorous line for the shape and a jittery, thin one for the shadow. And how the whole drawing practically reeks of some codger's smoking jacket, a pipey aroma rolled in from the 19th century. That, in full bloom, is the signature scent of a single pen: the rapidograph.

Rock guitarists have their Les Paul; cartoonists, their rapidograph. The pen is a rite of passage, an instrument that lends their line instant character and plugs their work into comics' striated heritage, which trails back to the days when illustrators dipped before they drew.

The revolutionary stylus was developed by German penmaker Rotring in 1953 (named for the "red ring" that fluted their creations). A new $40 rapidograph is as finicky as its line. It arrives with instructions, explaining how its eight separate pieces fit together, the important ones being the ink cartridge (refillable or replaceable, depending on the model) and a removable stainless-steel nib that comes in a dozen variations of point size, from the .13 mm of a single eyelash to the 2 mm of a swollen vein.

Against a delicate leaf of paper, the sound of a rapidograph is as raw as the line it produces; the shrill scrape of a rodent gnawing its way out of a milk carton. Forget the balletic sweep of a brush or the bleeding discharge of a permanent marker. The rapidograph doesn't merely apply ink to paper: it claws it in, scratching black lines onto the virgin white page. It's only natural that a fussy thatch of abrasions should be its characteristic look.

Why the pen makes the man. The rapidograph quickly caught on among draftsmen and designers, who elevated the technical pen to an industry standard. It became an art-school accoutrement -- like the beret and the sneer -- and its reliable lines began to gristle blueprints, advertisements and, of course, comics.

In the latter field, its star adherent is Robert Crumb, whose voluptuous translation of classic Americana the pen perfectly complements with its unyielding exactness, emitting a steady stream of ink from a precision-crafted nib that rolls as easily as a ballpoint but doesn't bleed, and mimics the sharpness of a quill without needing a bottle of India ink.

Aside from the pen's ubiquity and convenience, many cartoonists, especially in the underground swell of the late '60s, grew enamored of its arcane effects, its lacerations that lent even something as far-out as a flaming eyeball or a plump breast sprouting from a glen the rustic charm of a pioneer's cabin. When Crumb came along, wielding his "stoopid rapidographo" like some foil-waving musketeer, the pen became de rigueur among the underground artists who flocked to his side-- Rick Griffin, S. Clay Wilson and the rest -- who used it to finesse their baroque freakouts.

Rapidograph has become the generic name for any ink-cartridge pen, and its incisive style is now deeply gouged in the comics aesthetic, reaching as far as Japan, where its crow-quill fingerprint in the work of an artist like Hayao Miyazaki accompanies the region's calligraphic tradition. Even cartoonists who stray from the density it often engenders stake their line on it: Matt Groening uses several in his spartan Life in Hell strip (the .70 mm nib to draw the characters and dialogue, the .50 mm for small lettering and the 2 mm for the frames and speech balloons). So does Gary Larson, and they fastidiously record every tick of his drawing hand. Adrian Tomine draws his backgrounds with one, while countless others use it for their lettering or in their sketchbooks. The pen is a prickly beast, and it's left quite a mark.

FIVE BOOKS OF RAPIDO-GRAPHY

When We Were Very Maakies by Tony Millionaire

The R. Crumb Coffee Table Art Book by Robert Crumb

Zap #3 (reprint) by R. Crumb, S. Clay Wilson, Rick Griffin et al.

NausicaƤ of the Valley of Wind by Hayao Miyazaki

Big Book of Hell: The Best of Life in Hell by Matt Groening

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Of Note Elsewhere
A wrestler-fairy? A nerd-werewolf? A caveman-pirate? All these and more in Creebobby's second Archetype Times Table.
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Wong Fei-Hung's been on my mind lately. Luckily, Kung Fu Cinema has a nice video (scroll down) of Wong Fei-Hung in the movies from Kwan Tak-Hing to Gordon Liu, Jet Li as well as Jackie Chan and actress Angie Tsang Tze-Man's portrayals of young Wong Fei-Hung. There's also a detailed companion article tracing the historical and fictional Wong Fei-Hung through newspaper pulps, radio, tv and film. 
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"It's common practice for one of those guys, in a single day, to chainsaw his way out of the belly of a giant worm, take a detour through a zombie shantytown, euthanise his long-lost wife, and spend hours in a sewer trawling through blood and waste, with monsters leaping up at his face and depositing their brain matter on his boots."

Hit Self-Destruct again, on what life's like for videogame heroes.
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The Deleted Scenes webcomic takes a look at W. E. Coyote v. ACME Corporation.
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Frank Miller's Charlie Brown, Thumbsuckers.
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