Another new patron joins the ranks of the few, the brave, the mice:
Sam Minden, star of the police drama of the same name which ran on CBS from 1957 to 1972. The show’s unique selling point was that it was not a “whodunnit?” like Kojak or a “howcatch’em?” like Columbo. Instead, Minden would use his knowledge of fashion to deduce the killer based on their designer outfit alone, becoming TVs first (and so far only) “whohewearin’whenhedunnit?”
Hi folks,
Two new patrons to introduce to you all:
Rudi Baeten, legendary Netherlands football player (1968-1974). He invented the concept of “Total Football” where players would undergo intensive psychological conditioning until they believed that they were footballs. Unfortunately, the technique ultimately took its toll on Baeten’s marriage when he abandoned his wife and three children and eloped with an imitation plastic Adidas Tricolore, with whom he spent the rest of his days rolling gently down a beach in the Dutch Caribbean.
Adam Davis was the 13th Vice-President of the United States for all of five minutes before the notoriously fickle James Buchanan jilted him in favour of John C. Breckinridge. Davis never forgave this betrayal, and when informed that Breckinridge had betrayed the Union and joined the Confederacy is said to have remarked “Well, what would you expect from that tramp?”
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“Okay, that’s it. I’m officially done with the Marvel movies.”
‘Uh huh.”
“I mean it. I just don’t care anymore.”
‘Uh huh.”
“I mean, I’ll probably watch Infinity War 2.”
‘Uh huh.”
“And any new Thors.”
‘Uh huh.”
“And Black Panther 2, definitely.”
‘Uh huh.”
“Oh, and I’ll probably check out Captain Marvel.”
‘Uh huh.”
“But other than that, I am DONE.”
“Yikes. Careful hon, going cold turkey is dangerous.”
“Ugh. Curse your sexy irresistible snark and flawless reliability as a narrator.”
Yes, the grim spectre of Marvel Fatigue has reared its skeletal head in the Mouse household, rattling its chains and wailing about lacklustre villains and nondescript movie scores. And while this malignant spirit has claimed my beloved spouse I, thankfully, remain immune.
Or so I thought.
Coming up to this particular review I experienced, for this first time in this series, something in the outer boroughs of dread. The first Ant-Man, was fine but only fine and the closer the time to review Ant-Man and the Wasp crept the more I realised that I just didn’t care and would much rather skip ahead to whatever reader request I should have done like two years ago (I’m trying guys, I’m trying).
So, because I have little to nothing interesting to say about the movie, how ‘bout some comic history? You know you love it.
Janet Van Dyne aka The Wasp was the second major female superhero created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in the early sixties, coming a few years after Sue Storm and a few months before Jean Grey and the Scarlet Witch. And she was, much like her sisters, originally a bit crap. To put it bluntly, the superheroines of this era were drippier than a melting ice-cream who just stepped out of the shower to answer the phone.
Pictured: The time Stan Lee invented millennials.
Jan was first introduced in the pages of Tales to Astonish as the daughter of Vernon Van Dyne, a scientist who once worked with Hank Pym, the world’s Most Generic Man. When Vernon is killed, Jan comes to Hank looking for help and he’s all:
Hank gives her shrinking powers, making her a god among mortals, as well as some nifty little wings and energy blasts and they fight crime as Ant-Man and the Wasp. They also became founding members of the Avengers, with Jan actually being the one who comes with the name for the team. Originally depicted as shallow and flighty the character has been deepened and expanded on by various writers over the years into one of the most respected superheroes in the Marvel universe.
She’s also the only one of the founding Avengers to never have her own solo series. For some reason.
Man, you guys do love your animated fantasies from the late seventies/early eighties don’t you? In fact, I’ve now reviewed enough of these things that they’re starting to run together. Which animated fantasy centring on wizards and a war between science and magic with seriously dodgy gender politics is this again? Nit?
“Yessum?”
“I need some kind of filing system.”
“I have waited many long years to hear you say those words. It was worth it.”
This review was requested by patron Mathom. If you’d like me to review a movie, please consider supporting my Patreon.
New Year, New Mouse, New Regular Feature!
This is Bats versus Bolts!
…
Someone ask me what Bats versus Bolts is.
“Sigh. What’s Bats versus…”
Glad you asked! Dracula and Frankenstein are two of the most famous and frequently adapted stories of all time. Hell, Dracula alone has been adapted…hang on let me just Google that…
Uh. No, Google. I’m pretty sure that’s not right.
Anyway, in every decade there are Dracula movies and Frankenstein movies that reflect the culture, trends and social forces that created them and I thought it would be cool to take two from each decade and pit them against each other in a no holds barred monster mash. So let’s start with the two most iconic versions, Universal’s Dracula and Frankenstein from the nineteen thirties.
I don’t hold with New Year’s, personally, it’s just a fake holiday cooked up by Big Calendar. But I suppose it’s as good a time as any to take stock of everything that’s happened last year and check for structural damage.
So, 2018 was…mixed.
A better year than 2017, definitely. 2017 (for me) was just an series of unending failure, rejection and humiliation culminating in me hitting my lowest point since…ever, pretty much. 2018 on the other hand, was a series of sharp highs and lows and I’ll definitely take that over the alternative. If current trends continue, 2019 might actually be (whisper it softly now) good?
The bad was losses in the family, the occasional depressive episode and just the general mental and emotional wear and tear of living in a world run by an insane wall-obsessed golden tamarin.
“NO COLLUSION!”
So let’s talk about the good.
Hope you all have a wonderful, happy time and I’ll see y’all in the New Year.
Love from the Mouse House
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Much like an awesome party where someone suddenly showed up with a suitcase full of tainted MDMA, the X-Men film franchise got real bad, real fast. From the dizzying (well) highs of X2 the franchise had laid two massive turds in a row and was now in the unenviable position of having exactly as many bad films as good ones (also known as the Star Trek ratio). What was to be done?
“REBOOT!”
“Well hang on there, let’s not just go with the most obvious knee jerk response let’s think about the best way to erase past mistakes and inject new life into…”
“GRITTY REBOOT?”
“Okay, good, good, we’re thinking outside the box now, let’s just try a little harder…”
“Urrrrrrrrrr…”
“YOUNG AND SEXY REBOOT!”
“YES! HE CAN BE TAUGHT!”
Alright, all joking aside, the idea for a movie about the early days of Xavier’s School for Gifted Child Soldiers had been knocking about since the shooting of X2, and as an idea it’s pretty damn bad. Making a movie about the earliest adventures of the X-Men is like making a movie about John Lennon and focusing solely on his time in the Quarrymen. That was the worst part. Virtually all the good stuff came later. For a while. Then things got really, really awful.
In this analogy, Rob Liefeld is Yoko.
But First Class also shares much of its DNA with what was originally going to be the second instalment of the X-Men Origins spin off series, Magneto. After Wolverine Origins bombed so hard that the box office was glowing in the dark, the ideas for Magneto were bundled up and worked into First Class.
So how does this grab-bag of sewn together bad ideas and discarded movie bits work as a film?
Surprisingly well! Except when it doesn’t. It’s complicated.
In the wake of a catastrophe as total as the rise of the Norsefire Party and its continuing control over most of the British mainland, it is only rational to consider the path that led us here and only human to look for someone to blame.
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Not so long ago, in the pages of this here very blog what are you reading like, I reviewed Makoto Shinkai’s 5cm per Second and my good Lord, it bored me so. It bored me like Sarah, plain and tall.
Well, Shinkai apparently took my criticisms onboard and went away and created Garden of Words, a movie that has all of 5cm per Second’s stunningly gorgeous visuals and sumptuous sound design but which actually marries them to interesting characters and some class of plot. I mean, I don’t want to take credit for this critically acclaimed film but honesty compels me.
Anyway yes. Okay. I am now on board. I am on the Makoto Shinkai train (and the dude does love his trains). Like 5cm per Second, Garden is slow and relies heavily on atmosphere but there is a definite sense that it’s telling a story patiently and methodically and not faffing about and wasting your time. The characters are also far more distinctive and memorable, compared to the 5cm per Second’s leads who were so bland and grey you could use them to wallpaper the walls of a dentist’s office. For instance, one of the main characters, Yukari, spends her days in the local park drinking beer and eating chocolate because her depression has dulled her sense of taste and those are the only flavours she can experience. That’s good writing, because it informs us of an important character trait (her depression) but does it in a way that’s unique and memorable and makes her stand out from all the other sadsacks (I’ve had depression, I get to use that word).
The movie begins with the two things that get Makoto Shinkai out of bed each morning; weather and trains.
“Shit’s my jam, yo.”
unshavedmouse 