Monday, June 30, 2008

Everybody Hates Hulk and Superman Returns


To those who haven't been paying attention, the Summer of Superheroes is upon us! (Ah, hyperbole. The cornerstone of comics marketing.)

Superhero films kicked off the summer with the "megahit" Iron Man, which was swiftly followed by Speed Racer, The Incredible Hulk, and Wanted, with Hancock, Hellboy II, and finally The Dark Knight waiting to overtake the box office on the respective opening weekends. For comic fanboys, this summer is like a three month long trip to San Diego's lauded Comic-Con. Film and comics have collided in the perfect marriage of accurate adaptations and mainstream appeal. Now, comic films have been fairly popular since the turn of the century, but this year comic fans seem especially enthused. The root of their enthusiasm? Comic films that are not only accurate but action-packed. Fanboys finally get to see Iron Man ascend to the heavens just like in the comics, they get to see Batman tangle violently with The Joker, and, most importantly, they get to see HULK SMASH!

As more of a film fan than comic fan, the desire to see Hulk Smash concerned me as soon as the Hulk reboot (The Incredible Hulk, TIH) was announced. Message boards applauded in near unison the opportunity to see a Hulk film with more power than pathos, more action than angst. But was the last film really that bad? And for that matter were other films that took a less "popcorn" approach to comics (Superman Returns and Batman Begins) unsuccessful simply because filmmakers approached the material with reverence for the stories behind the action.

For years comic fans have complained about the lack of respect for the comics medium, yet as soon as reverence is given, it is rejected. Violently. Critics and fans cried foul when their favorite four-color characters sulked and pondered the weight of their existences instead of bashing heads. Ang Lee's Hulk, which plunged into the root of the Hulk's anger, and Bryan Singer's Superman Returns, which examined the isolation of a god, have been the major targets of this vitriol (Batman Begins escaped this torment mostly because it erased the memory of lesser attempts and because it was just so damn good!) Needless to say, this condemnation is undeserved. As films, both are technically solid and true to the essence of the character. As adaptations, they probe the depths of their respective leads to create characters that are more than power fantasies. These films give each character the humanity they deserve.

I understand why this approach is unsuccessful with comic fans: as the humanity of these characters is revealed, the fantasy diminishes. If the all-powerful Superman and Hulk are too busy being depressed about the same things that bother average viewer then they are no longer fantasies. They are too human to take us from our concerns. As a non-super powered viewer, I appreciate that concern. But as a mature filmgoer, who knows that the best characters are three dimensional humans, not two dimensional gods, I am at stark (no pun intended) odds with comic fans. Characters should be fully developed, and if action is sacrificed in favor of character development, then so be it. I've seen action flicks with 2-D leads, I expect more from my heroes. And truly what is a hero who doesn't even overcome his or her own problems to save the day.

Another issue with these films was the lack of substantive villians. With Superman and Hulk, we have two heroes with less than stellar rogue's galleries and arch-nemeses that are mere mortals. Ask a non-comics fan who Superman's rogue's are and see if any one knows someone besides Lex Luthor. Same for Hulk. Can anybody name a Hulk villian? Besides the military and the angry general who always chases him and has been the villian, to some degree, in both Hulk flicks. Go ahead, I'll wait... It's hard to ask filmmakers for villains when the audience doesn't know the villains. Granted, it's the filmmaker's responsibility to establish the characters, but a known property is easier to sell than an unknown.

Ultimately, the choice to appreciate or denigrate these films belongs to each viewer. Whether you prefer action packed Hulk Smash popcorn goodness or melodramatic character exploration, the choice is yours. I prefer to see what makes these guys tick. What makes someone wear their underwear outside a pair of tights. What makes a man, or a superman, get up every morning and make it through the day.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Decompression: Writing Comics like Movies


Recently, comic book writers have allowed art and visuals to tell more story than dialogue or narration. This technique is called decompression. For the uninitiated, here's a primer on this popular technique:

In comics, words and pictures combine to create dynamic, compelling stories. Despite integrating visual and textual storytelling for decades, many pre-Modern age (arguably before 1990) comic book writers emphasized text over visuals, creating short stories with pictures rather than works of visual storytelling. Recently, comic writers have begun emphasizing visuals over text in comic storytelling. This emphasis on visual storytelling is called decompression. Decompression is a comic book storytelling style that uses visuals to establish mood, develop plot, and enhance characterization. visual narration to develop story and characterization. This style is generally marked by visual mood, widescreen panels, nuanced characterization, and multi-part stories, or story arcs. Decompression rapidly gained popularity in the late 1990s and early 2000s due to the influence of decompressed-style comics such as The Authority and Ultimate Spider-Man. Despite its popularity, decompression has been criticized for contributing to slower pacing and plot padding.

Pre-Modern age comic creators established mood and developed character through text and dialogue. In decompressed-style comics, mood is revealed through widescreen panels that display establishing shots, reaction shots, and atmosphere effects. Comic writers instruct artists to use widescreen panels to convey mood without in-depth textual description. Widescreen panels are panels with oversized illustrations, similar to film storyboards; these panels allow creators to establish mood, progress plot, and depict characterization through visual, rather than textual, narration. Comic writers collaborate with illustrators to create widescreen-style visuals, which emulate a cinematic feel. Full-page illustrations, or Splash pages, panoramic scenery shots, and tight close-ups are examples of widescreen visual techniques. Widescreen panels usually have a low text bubble count, which keeps the focus on visuals. This technique contrasts pre modern-age comic panels, which contained considerable text and smaller visuals.

Characterization is another major focus in decompressed storytelling. Decompressed-style writers explore character through visuals, dialogue, and character interaction more than narration or character monologues. Decompressed-style writers encourage collaborating illustrators to develop close-up shots of characters to clearly display the characters’ reactions. Additionally, writers craft dialogue that focuses more on motivation and introspection than exposition. In decompressed comics, character examination and development takes precedence over plot progression. As a result, plot progression is rather slower paced in decompressed comics. Slow plot progression creates multi-part stories. Multi-part stories, or a story-arc, unfold over the course of more than one monthly issue. Prior to the rise of decompression, comic stories were primarily self-contained, single-issue stories. Most decompressed story arcs are released in four to six issues, and, upon completion, collected in a bound format known as the trade paperback. Trade paperbacks are valuable for allowing readers to catch up without having to seek single issues.

The rise of the trade paperback format led to decompressed storytelling becoming the dominant storytelling style in American comics between in the late 90s and the early 2000s. Despite its recent popularity, the origins of decompression can be traced to the early 1980s and Frank Miller’s Ronin. Following influences from Japanese comics, or manga, writer-artist Frank Miller created a six-issue story that diverged from the style of American comics. Manga utilize a visual narrative style that, due to cheaper printing costs and weekly publishing schedules, focuses on character more than plot. Miller used splash pages and visual panels, some sans text, to establish mood and explore the protagonist’s emotional journey. Through the efforts of writers like Miller, decompression slowly became the preferred storytelling style among comic writers. The manga invasion of the late 80s and early 90s would empower the decompression trend that swept the industry near the end of the decade. Manga became a major force in the comic scene due to importing and sales of collected manga editions, or tankoubon, by major booksellers. Consequently, comic creators began using manga visual and narrative styles to reach audiences enthralled by the manga invasion.

In addition to trade paperbacks and manga, the popularity of superstar artists also contributed to the rise of decompression. Superstar artists, like Jim Lee, Todd McFarlane and Rob Liefeld, were popular for their stylized approaches to comic art. They used their popularity to develop comics where visuals dominated the narrative. By 2001, decompressed comics became the standard, due in large part to the commercial success of titles such as Wildstorm Comics’ The Authority and Marvel Comics’ Ultimate Spider-Man. These factors, combined with successful trade paperback sales, led to decompression becoming the dominant storytelling style in domestic comics. Additionally, trade paperbacks flourished because of comics increasing niche-style market and the growth of national bookseller chains. Today, many comic writers write for the trade. Writing for trade is, essentially, plotting a contained story arc that can be easily collected.

Notable decompressed style writers include Warren Ellis, Brian Michael Bendis and Mark Millar. Warren Ellis’ twelve-issue run on The Authority was one of the first critically and financially successful decompressed titles. Ellis’ The Authority is often regarded as the standard of decompression by many modern comic writers. Brian Michael Bendis is also recognized as a prominent, if controversial, writer of decompressed comics. He is known for using decompression on Marvel titles Ultimate Spider-Man, New Avengers, House of M, and Secret Invasion. Bendis is praised for a deft ability with dialogue and deep characterization. But he is reviled for slow pacing and producing issues with scant plot progression. Mark Millar gained acclaim as writer of two volumes of the critically praised The Ultimates. Millar continued in the tradition of Ellis’ The Authority with The Ultimates where he used decompression to deconstruct popular heroes, in this case Marvel’s revered The Avengers. Millar, along with artist collaborator Brian Hitch, perfected the art of combining widescreen visuals with decompressed storytelling to produce cinematic-style, or widescreen, comics. Titles known for utilizing decompression include Marvel Comic’s Ultimate Spider-Man, The Ultimates, Astonishing X-Men, New Avengers and Wildstorm’s The Authority. Among major publishers, Marvel Comics produces more decompressed style comics than any other publisher.

Decompression has garnered a great deal of controversy due to its divergence from traditional comic storytelling norms. Before decompression, most comics were either an anthology of multiple short stories or single issue, “one-and-done,” narratives. Decompression while praised for deep characterization, palpable mood and engaging visuals is often criticized for slow pacing and padded plotlines. Fans of compressed storytelling find decompressed comics to be financially taxing, as it requires purchasing more issues to obtain a complete story. Financial limitations and preferences for fast paced storytelling have led many fans to criticize decompression. Some creators are reversing the trend by reintroducing compression to comics. Marvel Comics’ Nextwave and The Thing are contemporary examples of compressed comics. However, most modern compressed comics share similarities with decompressed comics including widescreen visuals and deep characterization. But the two styles differ in approaches to plot progression. Plot progression in compressed comics is fast paced with storylines wrapped within one or two issues. Recently the gap between compressed and decompressed comics narrowed as comic creators integrated both styles in titles like Image comics’ Fell and DC Comics’ Pride of Baghdad.

The rise of decompression signals a shift in comics from niche market to mainstream consumption. Competition from other entertainment mediums forced comic publishers to develop a format that appeals to modern audiences while maintaining the basic nature of the comic medium. Decompressed storytelling incorporates universally recognized entertainment conventions, such as widescreen visuals and nuanced characterization, to create comics that appeal to a wider audience. In addition, the practice of writing for trade encourages a streamlined collection of issues that allows readers to quickly catch up with ongoing plots. Despite surrounding controversy, decompression is the preferred storytelling style among comic creators. Decompression integrates visuals and text in a manner pleasing to seasoned collectors and new readers, while pushing the medium beyond its “one and done” roots.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Metal Gear Solid 4: The Summer's Best Movie?


Last night, I finished a rigorous one week campaign through Playstation 3's newest hit, Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of The Patriots (MGS4). After completing this enthralling experience, I must say that MGS4 was easily the best movie I've seen this summer.

Hideo Kojima's tactical espionage action epic follows the adventures of covert ops legendary badass, Solid Snake. A journey which began in 1987 with the Nintendo classic Metal Gear culminates with this year's release. What began as a humble, yet innovative, action game evolved into a gaming experience of epic proportions (yes, I'm overusing epic, but the franchise deserves the distinction.) In 1998, Kojima revolutionized action gaming with for Playstation. Metal Gear Solid. Metal Gear Solid, while not the first chapter of Kojima's opus, initiated the franchise that concludes with MGS4.


As many online game mags have proclaimed, MGS4 is a masterpiece of gameplay and storytelling. The game seamlessly weaves near-flawless CGI cutscenes into white knuckle stealth action gameplay. While the gameplay keeps gamers on the edge of their nerves, the amazing storyline is what pushes gamers to engage in marathon sessions just to see what's next. Culminating twenty years of storytelling into one neat package is no easy task, but Kojima has achieved this masterfully. MGS4 tells the tale of Solid Snake's final mission as he races to prevent his evil brother from achieving world domination. wraps a storyline the traces from the end of WWII to the future or Global Warfare. The plot involves seemingly absurd twists and turns, including cloning, possession, superhumans, and computer-controlled societies. Themes in MGS4 range from the dangers of technology to the conflict between man and machine to post traumatic stress to the price of war to the price of freedom, and even discussions on the concepts of fate and destiny. Heavy stuff for a video game, but maybe it's not. While fans of MGS4 are used to the depth of Kojima's games, gamers and the general public is becoming increasingly aware that video games are viable storytelling medium, easily on par with feature films. Indeed, Kojima has proven the point in one masterful stroke with this game.

What really makes this game a better movie than most of this summer's fare is the combination of depth and extravaganza. In
MGS4, we have deep three dimensional characters with passions, pet peeves and problems (some of whom have been developed for over twenty years.). We also have amazing action set pieces--some interactive, some not--that rival the best action scenes from the biggest blockbusters. The battles in MGS4 (especially Acts 2 and 4) are easily on par with , if not better than, the best action scenes in the Bourne Ultimatum, Black Hawk Down, and Transformers, respectively. And most importantly, the plot is simple at its core, man's struggle for freedom, but contains clever, and occasionally obtuse, plot twists that reinforce the themes of the story while constantly raising the emotional and physical stakes for the characters.

So far this summer we've seen a man don an iron suit to fight terrorists, an aging adventurer battle communists, child knights fight mythological beasts, a daring candy colored racer outwit a domineering corporation, and a big green man fight the military. While each film has its merits and flaws, none come close to achieving the storytelling magic of
MGS4. MGS4 moves you and thrills you. It makes you think beyond making it to the next save point. It makes you question the very act of playing a military simulation, while playing a military simulation. MGS4 is a masterpiece on so many levels it's ridiculous. If this game is ever translated to film (which, according to the rumor mill, it will), I hope the translation can retain even a fraction of the quality of this masterpiece. Way to go Snake. Way to go Kojima.