Sick Ass

From the moment I saw my first Kick-Ass trailer on YouTube, I was hooked. It's one of those incredibly promising premises I wish I had thought up myself: An average high school boy decides to become a real-life superhero. And that's it. The kid has no super powers, no traumatic past to fuel his efforts, or billionaire fortune to finance . Just a desire to do good by beating up bad-guys. It's a funnier, more realistic, and less political approach to the Watchmen concept, and like that other masked vigilante epic, Kick-Ass was adapted from a comic book by the same name. But is the movie any good? Absolutely. It is hilarious, visually stunning and entertaining throughout. But it's also more than a little disturbing.

Kudos to whoever came up with the paint spatter motif for the posters.

Staying true to the trend set by Watchmen, Kick-Ass is ridiculously violent, but unlike that other masked vigilante movie, there is a deeper meaning to the uncompromising blood-shed; it essentially allows the movie to function as a sort of cautionary tale. It answers the main character's question "Why has nobody tried to be a superhero before?" People do not dress and fight crime because they would be beaten, shot at and gutted. Even more importantly, the vigilante would be forced to inflict the same death sentences on his prey. It is Batman's no-kill rule that allows him to remain appealing despite the brutal nature of his justice. It's also the most fantastic aspect about his character. Kick-Ass essentially calls bullshit on Batman, and shows people just how bloody being a superhero would be.

At the same time, Kick-Ass pushes the boundaries of aestheticized violence and popular taste. There are two brilliantly choreographed fight scenes in the same vein as The Matrix's seminal lobby shoot out that convincingly present mass murder as something balletic and beautiful. The hook is, both of these massacres, and another intense first-person-shooting scene, are performed by an 11 year-old-girl, acted by a 13 year-old-actress. Hit-Girl is the boldest, most horrifying incarnation of the Child Soldier archetype I have yet to encounter, and yet I couldn't help but cheer as she butchered drug dealers and scum bags with ropes, knifes, guns and swords. Her attacks were simply too creative, and too cleanly executed to not admire, especially when her skills are contrasted against the bumbling titular hero, who spends most of his time in-costume getting beaten up.

There she is, Big Daddy's little murderer.

Even more unsettling than Hit-Girl's actual fight scenes are her training scenes. In what might be his best role since Matchstick Men, Nicholas Cage plays a profoundly disturbed Ex-Cop turned costumed vigilante dubbed Big Daddy; think Batman with guns and a murderous daughter instead of Robin. He buys her daughter butterfly knives for her birthday, drills her on her crime-related factoids, and trains her how to take a gunshot with a bullet-proof vest.  Even though the movie has the decency to point out the truly sick nature of his revenge scheme, the outcome of the story seems to condone his heinous training, leaving a truly immoral aftertaste in the brain.

At the same time, there is more to the movie's message. Dave Lizewski is a truly likable main character, and his super-heroic coming of ages covers topical bases like becoming an Internet celebrity and trying to woo a girl despite rumors of being gay. The movie also lambastes a number of familiar superhero tropes, like rescuing lost cats and talking like a pompous douchebag. The catch is, the ugly, unfunny violence is as much a part of the social commentary and as the simple laughs.

I haven't read the Kick-Ass comics yet, but after watching the movie I fully intend to. I've found that comics are often a more comfortable medium for digesting violence than film, though I understand that they are every bit as violent as the film.

The tag-line is certainly accurate as far as the movie is concerned.

If you are a fan of Superhero flicks, consider Kick-Ass required viewing. Don't take Grandma or the parents though. They may find the violence hard to swallow. Hell, you might too.

The Best of All Possible Batmen

You don't need to be The World's Greatest Detective to figure out I'm major Batman fan, but in case my extensive review of The Dark Knight didn't tip you off, I have words to share about Arkham Asylum.


The title of this post might be slightly exaggerated but it gives you a pretty good idea of my opinion about the game. Activision has finally done Bats justice vis-à-vis videogames, halting a dreary, drown-out parade of fail. Their outing (which I experienced via the 360) presents players with the brilliant voice acting of the 90's animated series (which, in my opinion, captures Batman and Joker at their best), the brutal brooding aesthetics of Frank Miller (the only aspect of Miller meriting imitation in my opinion), and the encyclopedic depth of Batman's comic legacy, realized through references, homages, and an impressive character dossier.

Of course, the most important aspect of the game is that it plays like Batman should. The "Freeform Combat" system presents players with the frenetic pacing of the rhythm-action genre in the form of fisticuffs. Conceptually, fights entail frenzied matches of Rock, Paper, Scissors (or Strike, Stun, Dodge) with an emphasis on stringing together long combos to unlock more powerful techniques. It's a much smarter and much more satisfying approach to brawling than typical licensed fair, and even though I happen to be no damn good at it (my combo counter usually peters out at about 8), it's thoroughly enjoyable.

In addition to Zonking and Biffing, (invoked here as old school sound effects; not sexual euphemisms) you also have a utility belt chock full of wonderful toys at your disposal. Batman's signature grapnel gun breaths new life into the hackneyed sneaking trope by allowing you to zip from perch to perch (for some strange reason, the asylum is lousy with indoor gargoyles) to get the drop on fools, as opposed to hiding in boxes or crawling around for five minutes to find the right hiding spot. This is the preferred method for taking out punks with guns, and the only way to navigate situations where thugs have been instructed to kill hostages at the first of Batman. These strategic sequences of cat and mouse, or bat and rats, play more like a strategy or puzzle game than a stealth-action affair, and they truly capture the spirit of Gotham's avenging angel.

My only gameplay gripe, because I've gotta have one, is that the experience feels a little over-engineered at times. You occasionally run into convenient excuses as to why you can't use a gadget, or find yourself forced to clear a room in a very specific way, but I can't stay mad at the game. The very fact that it bothers to explain itself is essentially a good quality, and it's engineering almost always works in the service of variety as opposed to tedium. All the same, I can't help but long for a freer game based on the same model, like an open-ended affair in Gotham.

Lesser oversights include the omission of Shirley Walker's spine-chillingly excellent Batman theme, and the complete absence of Robin. Oracle and Jim Gordan make for good company, but it would have been nice to see at least one of Bruce Wayne's many wards put in an appearence. This is not Christopher Nolan's realistic universe, and therefore there is no excuse to exclude a boy wonder. At the same time, I'm happy to see that the game pays no attention to Batman RIP or Battle for The Cowl. Don't get me wrong, Bruce Wayne has had a hell of a long run, and I can see how killing him off could breathe new life into the Batman mythos, but I'm happy that we got a game that captures him in his prime.


To close on a related tangent, those who are disappointed, or hopelessly confused by the way DC handled the Death of Batman may find some solace in Neil Gaiman's Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?. Then again, you might just be more confused. The story (which is, in typical Gaiman fashion, a collection of stories) stands in 'the gutter' between Batman RIP, Final Crisis, and Battle for Cowl, and offers a brief, metafictional look at Bruce Wayne as Batman that is moving and appropriate, if a little sentimental for modern tastes. It is simultaneously an epitaph for his Era, and an indication of what is to come in terms of comic story-telling.

Watching the Watchmen

It has been forever and I apologize, but a new post has finally arrived, along with some general changes to the Sarcasmancy banner. I will strive to post more consistently in this coming quarter, even in the face of academic trials and personal crises. You also may notice a few more pictures in future posts, like this one here:




On March 5th, at the Steven Jay Ross theater I had the privilege of attending a preview for a little flick called Watchman. You probably don't believe me, and I can't blame you seeing how the movie's been out for weeks and I'm just talking about it now. The intermingling days have been a deluge of deadlines, examinations and group projects on WoW which required extensive study.

The production values at work in this film are flat-out amazing. Every major character, and most of the minor ones as well (like newstand guy and comic book kid), are attired according to the comic book's odd orange, purple, green color scheme down to their last button. Some people have groused over the changes to Night Owl II and Silk Spectre II costumes, but they both look sexier and more practical on screen than they did in the ink.

The casting is mostly strong. Edward Blake is amazing as The Comedian, and Carla Gugino displayed an impressive range as Sally Jupiter. Malin Ackerman was stretched more than a little too thin playing Laurie Jupiter, though the character sort of begs for over-acting, and she looks great naked, (though the sex scene is still ridiculously awkward). I personally loved Billy Crudup's take on Doc Manhattan. His soft spoken nature made him far more impressive than the deep, cold monotone the comic led everyone to expect. I can see how some people might feel that it made him too sympathetic, or even too vulnerable for the role, but honestly things could have been much worse:



I find it kinda funny, that lots of critics are criticizing Synder's adaptation for being too faithful to the graphic novel even though many of them backed up Alan Moore's claims of it being 'unfilmable'. Their complaints do not prescribe stylistic adjustments either, but outright objections about the source material. Some complain that politics are adolescent and tediously exaggerated. Others feel the plot is pretentious and needlessly convoluted. Guess what folks? Allan Moore has done this before. Snyder could have afforded to be a little bolder here and there, but the idea of a domesticated, mass-marketable Watchmen is a frightening prospect to a lot of people, and for good reason.

I think William Hoy and Zack Snyder recieved too little credit where editting is concerned. They mannaged to trim most of the fluff from the story and tremendously simplified its ending, which involved a green, tencacled, vagina-eyed monstrousity; a device I always suspected Moore implemented just to poke fun at the way comics escalate. In each volume, plots tend to become more convoluted, bizaire in correspondence with their broadening scale. At first you're saving banks from thugs, then nations from nazis, then planets from aliens, then universes from trans-dimensional disasters that encroach upon the metafictional.

Anyway, instead of whining about how each scene copies those in the comic, or tittering at how much screen time Doctor Manhattan's big blue dong has, it would be nice to see more critics addressing the absurd amount of superfluous violence Snyder injects into the presentation.

Much as I hate to admit it, The Batman may be to blame for this one. Dark Knight was violent. Where PG-13 ratings are concerned it pushed some serious boundaries, and I walked out of the theater predicting a parental backlash. I was relieved to be wrong, because everything between Ledger's pencil trick and Glasgow Smile served a purpose; developing Nollan's darker and more realistic take on Bats. It was also done with intelligence and decency, honoring one of the oldest traditions in the comic industry: It left the blood in the gutter. This practice exiles gruesome acts to the spaces between the pictures, allowing audiences to come up with their own explanations and interpretations of the macabre. I learned all this from Scott McCloud, and you can too if you pick up his excellent book, Understanding Comics, which is one of the few works of contemporary comic-theory available, and the best I have read to date.

Funny thing is, while Watchman is also all about making superhero vigilantism realistic, the spectacular and explicit presentation of it's violence (rife with slick slow-mo and over the top sound effects) serves to establish the exact opposite effect. The ridiculously violent fights feel more like those found in Marvel's flicks and that surreality distances audiences from the heavy themes at work in the script, despite it's relentlessly dark posturing.

Once again, it's a matter of fracture. The tendency in film, by design, is to present audiences with an experience that is as fluid and streamlined as possible, while comics bombard audiences with fractures; from issue, to page, to pannel, to text box or speach bubble, few media are as inherently fragmented as comics. This gives artists a number of channels to choose from when engaging their audience. Watchman was celebrated as a graphic novel, and is favorably compared to it's cinema counterpart for it's ability to pair grim suggestion with stark images of violence. And just as rain water renders war memorials unintelligible by filling in their inscriptions, Snyder wipes away the visual subtlety of Watchman's story by smearing Gibbon's carefully drawn lines with extra blood. Great, now I sound like a page out of Rorschach's journal. And possibly an alarmist to boot.

Understand, that I am a hotblooded young man who likes his steaks bloody, his entertainment violent and his freedom of speech loud. The mantel of Schoolmarm is not one I am eager to adopt. It's rather at odds with the rebellious artist persona I'm trying to cultivate here. Though in all honestly, the movie is too fucking violent. It's like Snyder found the laziest possible way to make the movie as 'challenging' to watch as the comic was to read, except one's stomach is tried as opposed to his intellect. Just a few cuts here (Buzzsaw. Prison Cell.) and there (Rorschach. Pedophile. Cleaver.) would have made it much easier to watch and nobody would have gone wanting for blood at the end of the day.

In closing, I would like to mention I have joined the ranks of the Biased Video Gamer Blog, an up-and-coming site featuring all sorts of gaming goodness, including links to amusing game videos and reviews including a piece on FEAR 2 written by yours-truly. There will be more where that came from as well! I will also continue to cover games here at Sarcasmancy on a fairly regular basis. The next post will be sooner coming than this one was, I promise you.

A Dark Knight Indeed pt. 2

As promised, here is the second half of The Dark Knight. Be warned, it’s another long one despite my best efforts.

To understand why the Dark Knight is so important, we have to return to the concept of breakage, and its significance in the comic medium. The fragmented presentation of comic books: the gaps between boxes on a page, the disjuncture between text and pictures, between each issue in a series: is it’s greatest point of potential. The breakages allows readers to fill in the gaps on their own terms, drawing them into the world more deeply than other media, for while Film utilizes the same sort of closure, the transition between one cell to the other happens too quickly and purposefully for us to be consciously aware of it.

To a limited extent, The Dark Knight translates this same fractured quality into the film medium. Indeed, the structure of TDK’s plot shares more in common with a typical limited series than it does with other comic book movies, including Batman Begins. Further more, the short quick cuts in fight sequences resemble the blow by box composition of a comic book fight. And do you remember that huge panorama as Bats prepared to jump off the skyscraper in Hong Kong? That was totally a centerfold. I believe this sort of fractured presentation will become increasingly popular in the future, (especially when you consider that the internet features a comparable type of fracture to comics, with its windows and mix of text and images) and given the widespread popularity of The Dark Knight, it will serve as the most effective vehicle to influence other film-makers

In addition to its technical aspects, both the acting and the casting in The Dark Knight are superb. Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman and Gary Oldman don’t break new ground but they give great performances. Maggie Gyllenhall is every ounce the ‘Rachael Dawes’ Katie Holmes was and more. I wish Nolan and Goyer knew how to write women better so she could have had more screen time, and more interesting things to do than falling out of windows. Aaron Eckhart is also at the top of his game, and he really brings a new level of depth and significance to the Harvey Dent/Two-Face character. It’s a shame that his performance has been so over-shadowed, and that he spent the second half of the film with that ridiculous make-up which was more ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ than it was horrifying psychopath.

My critique of Bale’s Batman can be summed up best by this video clip. Before the next movie roles around, (and you all know it will), I really hope Good Sir Gravelthroat has a chance to hear Kevin Conroy’s voice acting in Batman: The Animated Series. Nobody else will ever balance growl, bellow and brood so beautifully.

Then there is Heath Ledger’s Joker.

Like all great character performances, Ledger makes The Joker instantly familiar and distinctive. His drawn out, strangely affected pronunciation, fraught with cheek licks and lip smacks is as chilling distinctive as Hannible Lecter’s reptilian mannerisms, or even Darth Vader’s asthmatic deep breathing. But what really makes him impressive is how he evolved the character. The ever-changing “let’s put a smile on that face” story is a brilliant homage to the character’s inconsistent origin in the comics.

In short, Ledger gave the most memorable and influential performance of the year, and he should be up for Best Actor as opposed to Best Supporting. I realize that the full title of the awards is “Best Actor in a Leading Role” and “Best Actor in A Supporting Role,” but that is not how people refer to them, or how they are thought of. Best Actor is considered the most powerful male performance of the season. By contrast, Best Supporting Actor is thought of as the best nonessential role that elevates quality of the film. And I actually believe that this arrangement is completely appropriate.

The problem is that the Academy is developing a habit of mislabeling antagonists as ‘Supporting Roles’ when they want to honor two leading performances. In some cases, this is an appropriate classification. But can there be any doubt as to whether Anton Chigurh was a leading role, or if The Dark Knight was as much about The Joker as it was about the titular hero? The academy does it do avoid controversy. It is a lazy, half-assed attempt to appease audiences who would cry foul if their candidate walked away empty-handed and it compromises the critical integrity of the Oscars. Best Supporting is effectively reduced to a runner-up ribbon that cheapens the performances of its recipients, and the guy who walks off with the Best Actor Oscar should be humbled knowing he was spared some of the stiffest competition. Worst of all, actual supporting roles worthy of merit now have no hope of taking home an Oscar.

Then there is the lack of a best picture nom. Honestly, if a movie featuring so much technical innovation, an all star cast and one of the most memorable and influential performances in years can’t even contend, what does it take? From what I have observed in the past, winning a best picture boiled down to two main criteria:
1: You have to be a big budget production that employs half of Hollywood.
2: You have to be a timeless story with universal appeal.

In the past few years however, a few international and independent films have taken home top honors. Films with minimal budget’s and star power which manage to become critics’ darlings, because they prove that film can be more than literature made easy. Consequently they tend to be ‘harder’ to watch and less popular. Don’t worry I’m moving on. Films whose stories fall within the realms of para-literature, (Comic books, Science Fiction, Horror, Fantasy; you know, nerdy shit) straddle these two approaches to Best-Picturedom. Though their themes are broadly accessible, their obscure trappings prevent universal appeal, and they are usually too commercial for the critics to enjoy. Therefore they must satisfy themselves with make-up and special effect awards.

The academy made an exception for The Lord of the Rings Trilogy because A) Tolkien’s work is regarded as the highest example of the fantasy genre and B) the movies’ cast and production values fulfilled criteria 1 several times over. The original Superman movie also managed to take home best picture, because it was the first superhero movie, based on the first super hero. Being the first is worth quite a bit. Having the one of the most memorable score from Hollywood’s best beloved composer didn’t hurt either. Interestingly, I have to admit that music was one area where Dark Knight fell rather flat for me.

Despite that shortcoming though, I couldn’t help but feel that Batman deserved to compete for best picture. Then again, even if he did, I would not want to see him win. You see, Slumdog Millionaire, is the best picture of the year. But I’ll talk about that next time

A Dark Knight Indeed pt. 1

In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess that I believe Batman to be the best superhero ever. As a child I collected his toys, tore around the backyard in a black cape, and occasionally referred to myself as Bruce Wayne. My affection for the character has grown slightly more discrete with age, but it has also grown deeper as I've come to understand him better. Instead of super powers, Batman has serious mental problems. He is not a superior man but a broken one, yet he uses that breakage as a point to draw in strength normal people could not use. Some nitpickers say that doesn't count as a superpower, and that Batman is consequently not a real superhero. But whenever somebody says superhero, the bat symbol comes to mind pretty quick.

That acknowledged, The Dark Knight is the most important superhero movie made so far.

To those who witnessed the release of the original Batman movie, or even the first Spider-man movie, I'm sure this seems like hyperbole. After all, they both broke box office records and made nerdy fanboys out of 'mainstream audiences.' Hell, even Iron Man managed the same trick earlier in the summer: making a well-known 'comicbook character’ into a well-known character, period. Hell of a trick it was too. Tony Stark’s steal alter-ego had grown considerably rusty since his Cold War origins, and Marvel did a bang up job of polishing him into a shiny chrome champion hip to today’s sensibilities. But even after the credits rolled, and Samuel L. Jackson’s Avengers epilogue made all the sidewalk sitters squeal with schoolgirl glee, it was still just a popcorn flick.

The Dark Knight strives to do more with the concept of superhero film. As implied by the new bat-symbol, we are returning to the broken Batman. In fact, the concept of “breakage” is central to the movie’s composition. The story presents us with a number of instances of division by mirror image. To begin with, superheroes are characters fundamentally divided between crime-fighter and alter ego. Bruce Wayne, a shallow cover for the dark knight, is the inverted reflection of Harvey Dent, a white knight who publicly fights crime. Batman the crime-fighter can be similarly contrasted against the Joker, as both are anonymous rule breakers serving opposing interests. This creeping fissure model continues with Harvey’s eventual transformation into Two-Face. This kind of comparison opens the door to a lot of complicated character analysis and some pretty heavy themes.

Naturally, not everybody will like it. Needless to say, those yearning for the whimsy of the Golden Age Batman comics are better off watching the Adam West series: There be no bat-puns or “Holy___’s Batman!” here. But even those who like their caped crusaders fairly hardboiled may be put off by the film’s relentlessly somber tone, as Nolan doesn’t let a minute pass without reminding you how Dark his world is. He never succumbs to the juvenile Underworld-brand of angst that Hot Topic peddles. It’s all genuinely grim, and it can wear you out as a result.

Authentic as the presentation is, the actual message being delivered is rather unsettling. A mainstream movie has never preyed on the fears of terrorism harder. Hell, it’s even in the advertisements.

Fortunately, the Joker is a thoroughly original villain and a refreshing departure from the terrorist archetype. In fact, he’s more like something thought up on /B/ and brought to life: a prospect infinitely more loathesome and terrifying than any islamic extremists. Hell, you could even consider his anonymity to be his super villain power: Batman only manages to beat him by using technology that invades people’s privacy. For me, the “just this once” argument for using the cell-phone sonar was the most chilling scene in the entire movie (though the white-eyed effect was a great homage to the comics). The ending speech about lying to Gotham’s people so they would still have something to believe in gave me a shiver too. The inevitable impotence and corruption of diplomacy, symbolized by Harvey Dent’s transformation to Two-Face, was also a downer. The movie isn’t blatant propaganda though. One walks away with the sense that things are not right, and that the heroes were acting in true desperation as opposed to nationalistic machoism. It bears repeating.

All that writing and I still haven't explained why The Dark Knight is so important. You have to set the stage for these things though. If you bear with me for just one more post- no Dan Brown bullshit- I promise you, I'll get to the point. I'll also offer a general discussion on the academy award, a funny youtube clip embedded right in the blog. No clicking required! Though there will be funny links for the clicking inclined too.