The Geek Beat: The Soon-not-to-be-Secret-Project

You, Me and the the Soon-Not-to-be-Secret-Project

by Dan Cooper @VertigoDC

If it’s okay with you dear reader, this week in The Geek Beat I’m going to get a little meta and write about the process of writing. My writing, in fact. A soon-not-to-be-secret-project if we want to be really specific. Before you utter a snort of utter contempt at my unbridled audacity and return to browsing pictures of dogs dressed like pirates, just please, bear with me for a moment. Geek gold will follow, you have my word – you’ll simply have to dig a little deeper for it this week. Firstly, please understand that I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to write about my own writing; I find it excruciatingly uncomfortable – a lot like watching an episode of Gotham. It’s fair to say though that my levels of blogging enthusiasm have bottomed out to a nadir hitherto unknown.

All of which probably explains why I’ve spent so long staring at The Blank Screen: the mortal nemesis of every writer. The Blank Screen is something akin to Kyle Reese’s description of a T-800 in The Terminator: “It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear.” The Blank Page is like the Moriarty to my Holmes; the Beatles to my Stones; the Daffy to my Bugs.

 An ancient grudge, older than time itse… wait, wtf?

So why am I doing this then? I suppose there are a number of reasons really. Let’s use a big number so it seems more important:

#1

 First up is the nature of criticism itself: It’s widely accepted that reviewing and critiquing the work of others is a breeze when compared to actually creating something of note oneself; George Lucas may regularly be on the sharp end of noxious outpourings of cyberspace hatred so vitriolic that it makes Mel Gibson’s drunken anti-semitic tirades seem like Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speeches - but hey - at least Lucas created something, a universe that for all its missteps and flaws enthralls us to this very day. Put simply, it’s a lot easier to tear stuff down than it is to actually create. As fun as it was last week to poke holes in DC’s doomed Before Watchmen series or explore the legacy of games long gone in the monthly RetrObituary series, that isn’t why I started writing.

I started writing because like many of you, I’m a dreamer – always have been, ever since I was a little kid playing with my cherished Star Wars figures, the worlds and stories spun by the power of my creativity were limitless and even when, years later, with great reluctance I finally retired my beloved plastic ewoks because, you know, my wife for some reason didn’t find it attractive, it never tempered the limits of my imagination.

I suppose it was getting out of hand…

So I began to write: nobody else was going to complete these ideas from inside of my head; I wouldn’t be seeing them on Netflix anytime soon (they haven’t even got the final season of Sons of Anarchy up, so I suppose streaming ideas straight from my mind is a while away yet). So, I figured that if I wanted to see how these stories played out, well then I’d just have to write them myself, wouldn’t I? So here I am, trying to create. To “Make Good Art” as Neil Gaiman puts it.

But that only explains my reasons for writing. Why waste time writing about my writing, about this particular soon-not-to-be-secret-project when I could just be writing the soon-not-to-be-secret-project? (Or rewriting even. Starting with that lousy last sentence.)

#2

This brings me neatly onto reason #2. I’m hoping that by writing about this particular soon-not-to-be-secret-project on a regular basis I can continue to learn about it - and maybe improve it. Learn something myself from writing about it critically perhaps. Maybe learn something from you dear reader should you care enough to have an opinion and come find me on Twitter. I’m hoping that this is one of those scenarios where taking the time to reflect upon it now whilst we’re still in the embryonic stages of the project will result in a greater feeling of satisfaction at the end. That way, I won’t have to go back in and add a few dewbacks just so I can sleep at night.

Look at that smile. Figures that Buzz would be a Special Edition fan.

#3

I miss the boat with everything. Everything. If it something becomes so huge that it spews forth a hot jet of pop cultural lava over everyone present, you can practically guarantee that I stopped watching it/reading it/playing it before it reached epic proportions, or worse, I simply jumped on the bandwagon with every other mook and wished I’d been into it since the start. Breaking Bad was seasons in and Walter White was firmly cue-balled before I finally got my act together and watched it (although UK TV's ridiculous scheduling didn't help with that one), The Walking Dead was on TV by the time I'd picked up the comics and even though I was watching Game of Thrones when it first aired back in April 2011, I was still a noob because everyone else had read the books. Whilst I'd love to consider myself as some sort of pop-cultural trailblazer, in truth I suppose it's just my lot in life to tread the geek trail as part of the massed bandwagon. But to quote The Vampire Lestat (a movie that all my friends saw at the cinema, whereas I somehow missed it until DVD): "I'm going to give you the choice I never had." 

That's right. This is a chance for you to be part of something from the very beginning. This soon-not-to-be-secret-project is so new that the shrink-wrap is still on it. I mean it. I haven't even submitted the climactic scenes of the script to the executive producer yet. I should probably be writing them now actually as I'm past my deadline, but instead here I am procrastinating with you. I do hope you're grateful. Whether you have a genuine interest in seeing creative projects grow to full fruition; whether you want to get involved on some level; perhaps you want to interact with the creative team as the project grows; maybe you just want to watch us crash and burn whilst laughing maniacally with typical super-villain glee from your Death Star or secret base in a remote, hollowed-out volcano whilst somehow fuelling your evil powers with our tears. It may very well be that it's none of the above and you're simply intrigued, that's good too - you'll be very welcome anyway.  

So. There you go. My reason for writing about my own writing: The Project. The the soon-not-to-be-secret-project. The Lead Producer on the project has told me that I'm not allowed to say too much yet: legal stuff to do with copyright as the project is so new. What I can tell you is this: It's a limited run, four issue comic book series entitled ANA. The setting is a bleak near-future Earth; it explores ideas as diverse as the power of memory, fundamentalism and the collective journey that humanity is undertaking as a race. There's also some kick ass fight scenes too. Here though, is where things get really exciting: as an integral part of the project we're also planning to make a short film to act as a bridge between issues #3 and #4. We're looking to do this right, with the highest production values possible. In fact, some of the budgets that are coming in are making my head spin a little but that's okay - the production team I'm working with have successfully found funding for projects before so when they start talking about overseas filming and eye-watering amounts of money, I just nod. They know what they're doing. 

I don't know what else I can tell you at this point dear reader. There's concept art that I'd love to show you but I'm not allowed. I'd like to give you a more detailed synopsis of the plot but I can't do that either. (I haven't even written the final issue yet!) But, because I don't want to leave you completely empty-handed, I can humbly offer you this Pinterest link where you can start to check out some of the visual references that have informed the project's aesthetic thus far. I wish it were more but by next month any copyright issues should be ironed out and I'll have more to show you.

 Executive Producer's board

Costume Designer's board

So that's it for The Geek Beat this week. The cat is out of the bag. If you want to keep up with the ANA project, please follow me on Twitter @vertigoDC for regular updates. I'll be back with more info on the project in four week's time, including a more developed introduction to the world of ANA; a first-look at some of the concept art and an introduction to some of the team behind the project. See you then. Peace.


Thanks for reading folks. A fresh blog on the ANA project will arrive next month but The Geek Beat will be back next week with more content.

Whatever you happen to do in this crazy, crazy world, be sure to follow DC and The Geek Beat on Twitter @vertigoDC for exclusive content. It'll do him the world of good, it really will. He only has 12 followers. What are you waiting for? Go on!  

The Geek Beat: Who Botches The Watchmen?

The Gutter: Who Botches the Watchmen?

(Or why we should always listen to Alan Moore)

These guys sure wouldn’t.

(Be ye warned! Major spoiler for 1986’s Watchmen, the 2009 movie adaptation and the recently released comic book prequels follow!)

Where do the years go? It certainly doesn’t feel like it was that long gone but six years or so ago I attended a special IMAX screening of Watchmen along with @shaune_gilbert. (my fellow collaborator on the monthly RetrObituary) I am referring of course to the 2009 movie directed by Zak Snyder that was so unashamedly derivative of the source material that entire panels of the comic were painstakingly recreated for its long-awaited silver screen metamorphosis. 

Also present at that screening was the man who was largely responsible for those iconic visuals - the artist and co-creator of the legendary 1986 comic book saga: Dave Gibbons. Whilst not being a particular fan of Gibbons’ art myself in any of his other ventures, his realistic, drama-laden style proved to be the perfect foil to anchor the dazzling bravura of Alan Moore’s incredible writing. 

Let’s face it, it had to be special to allow the outlandish climax (where a fake alien, created at the behest of Adrian Veidt is dropped into Times Square to kill millions in order to end the global nuclear threat and save billions) to remain firmly grounded within the moral panic of the era. Put simply, his art (along of course with Moore’s writing) sells the climax in a way that the reader can buy into without the feeling that the shark has been jumped.

When the Watchmen jump the shark, they really jump the goddamn shark.

Don’t forget that Snyder wasn’t able to find a way to make the same climax work on screen, despite his obsession with slavishly recreating the comic book, resulting in him ultimately choosing to take the movie’s conclusion in a different, more contemporary direction. Something about an energy project gone meh.

But I digress. Before the screening began, Gibbons answered a few questions and told a few stories about co-creating the most critically lauded comic book of all time. Amidst a whole slew of interesting anecdotes and golden geek nuggets he explained why DC had stopped publishing the graphic novel of Watchmen with the now-iconic smiley face cover, instead replacing it with an ensemble shot of the eponymous Watchmen. (Avid fans will also know that the original cover also serves as the very first panel of the story making it a doubly-mystifying decision to remove it.)

Covers old and new: Note that the smiley badge has even disappeared from The Comedian’s uniform.

Gibbons went on to bemusedly explain that somehow, a gentleman in France had managed to prove that he had created the (ACIIIID!) smiley face and had subsequently trademarked it - therefore meaning that DC were no longer able to adorn the cover of the millions (just in time for the movie!) of graphic novels they were about to print with the classic Watchmen logo. I suppose that the point that I’m trying to make here is that if something as ubiquitous as the smiley face can be commoditised; converted into intellectual property to turn a profit for somebody, somewhere then it really was only a matter of time before DC’s gaze (or that of their dark, corporate overlords) was cast upon their sacred cow; the one property that had always been deemed inviolable. Untouchable. Sacrosanct.

Watchmen.

Which leads us neatly onto Before Watchmen. Despite fervent protestations by Co-Publishers Dan Didio and Jim Lee that DC would handle the source material with reverential care, the announcement of the prequel books blew up a storm back in 2012 as comic fandom’s collective knees spasmodically jerked as one, instantly declaring them to be an abomination, possibly even the rankling, midnight shadow of the Antichrist itself. Me? I waited a while, let all the fuss die down, (a year or so) internalised whether I really wanted to do this (another year or so) and then thought “why not?” Please understand, I get that everyone has different relationships to touchstone material: my connection with the Star Wars movies for instance is long, complex and riddled with difficulties; something akin I imagine, to the relationship between Liz Taylor and Richard Burton: We marry, (Episodes IV-VI) we divorce (Episodes I-III), we re-marry (Expanded Universe and video games), we divorce (WTF Yuuzhan Vong!?). For a long time we’ve stayed together for the sake of the kids, and although things are looking up I accepted a long time ago that they’ll never be like they were. Of course, then along came that shot of the Millennium Falcon blazing through a gaggle of pursuing TIE fighters in the new Force Awakens teaser and I’m head over heels again and ready to do an intoxicated drive-thru wedding with the drunken Vegas stripper that Episode VII is probably going to turn out to be.

Sigh. You know exactly how to push my love buttons, JJ.

Unsurprisingly, my relationship with Watchmen is equally complex. It was the book that got me back into comic books in my late teens, and as such has continued to serve as the fulcrum for all of the thrills and disappointments that have followed since. Like the first hit on some Heisenberg Blue Crystal, nothing in the fifteen years hence has been able to match the way Watchmen bubbled through my veins and despite stumbling across the odd good batch, (Batman: Year One; Punisher MAX; The Walking Dead) I’ve been chasing the dragon ever since. To put it another way, Watchmen managed to achieve the extraordinary feat of inducting me into a lifelong love of comics whilst simultaneously ruining them forever for me. Which is precisely the effect I think Alan Moore was going for when he sat in his evil magician genius lair and musingly stroked his evil magician genius beard in lieu of an evil magician genius cat. Maybe.

I’m digressing again but I hope you get my point. I’m trying to make you understand that my connection to the universe of Watchmen is as real and complicated and valid as yours. It’s just different. (I just read that line back and even I’m laughing at me.) So where do I begin? Having allowed a couple of years for all of the hullabaloo to die down about whether the Before Watchmen prequel line was a blatant cash grab or an inspired attempt to creatively expand the blah blah blah, allowed me to approach the books from a fairly objective direction. Also, coming at the maxi-series a couple of years removed gave me the luxury of avoiding the delays the series suffered, which inevitably added to the lukewarm critical reception.

So what did I think?

Well, they gave it their best shot at least. There are clearly good intentions at work here, although the road to comic book mediocrity is paved with them. DC pulled in a wishlist of superstar talent to try and give the series a fighting chance - who better than 100 Bullets’ Brian Azzarello to capture the gritty Mean Streets feel of Rorschach’s brutal war on hoods, pimps and pushers? J.Michael Strazynski’s sci-fi and superhero credentials (Babylon 5 through to a legendary run with Romita Jr. in the pages of Amazing Spider-Man) promised to be an inspired choice to chronicle the story of Dr. Manhattan – by far the least human of the Watchmen and prone to the odd caper out in the realms of space. It didn’t stop there: Darwyn Cooke, the legendary Len Wein and a whole raft of genuinely exciting talent was brought in to ensure that DC weren’t simply paying lip service to their assurances of quality control. And that was just the writers. Those charged with drawing the books were equally talented: Eduardo Risso, Lee Bermejo – even the celebrated Jim Lee got in on the act with a series of alternative covers although surprisingly, his Silk Spectre somehow didn’t become an iconic image and go on to break the internet – we all know that that honour of late has gone to the much more realistically-proportioned Kim Kardashian.

                      

Spot the cartoon character.

So they gave it their best shot. They brought in all the big guns. Why didn’t it work? The obvious answer is prequel fatigue, although perhaps this is too easy a target. It makes sense though; much like the maligned newer trilogy of Star Wars movies, you face a creative cul-de-sac when writing a prequel – not only does the audience know how it’s going to end but on top of that the writer is further constrained by having to leave everything just so, in place for the main event. It’s a creative strait jacket. On top of that, it isn’t like Moore neglected to deal with his character’s histories in the original story… he did, and it was that systematic deconstruction of his characters that made the original Watchmen so great. We already know that Rorschach does what he does because of mommy issues; that Sally Jupiter’s Silk Spectre II does what she does because of mommy issues… Moore dealt with this superbly in the original material. Did it really need revisiting? Perhaps the most uninspired addition to a character’s backstory in the new books comes in the form of Nite Owl, who we find out has… wait for it… daddy issues. If any part of the books felt like they were piggybacking on the greatness of others – that was certainly one.

Whilst the issue of prequelitis is certainly relevant, Before Watchmen ultimately disappointed because it wasn’t consistently good enough. Azzerello’s two stories in particular are hugely underwhelming, despite boasting excellent art. His Rorschach tale feels rote and devoid of inspiration whereas his Comedian story is ambitious but muddled and bloated. Nite Owl’s story is meh too – it makes you wonder why they didn’t tackle the Nite Owl/Rorschach dynamic duo that’s hinted at in Moore’s work in greater detail; the two characters are clearly more effective when they’re riffing off that odd-couple dynamic they share and it makes the choice to not combine the two and weave a tale during this era all the odder. Perhaps something to do with making more dollar bills? I’m referring here to the currency, not the character – although even Dollar Bill himself gets a one-shot issue – despite never appearing in the original book and only being mentioned briefly.

Holla at’ya Dollar.

It’s creative choices like that mean you can’t but help think of the whole venture as a bit of a cash grab despite all the promises of reverence for the source material. The less said about Len Wein’s pirate story, the better – a backup feature that runs throughout each and every issue in the Before Watchmen series, this purports to be a companion piece to the meta-textual Tales of the Black Freighter, the comic-within-a-comic that so brilliantly subverts the main thrust of Watchmen’s plot whilst simultaneously adding layers and texture to the world that Moore and Gibbons were crafting. Wein’s effort makes no such effort at adding to the universe’s meta-narrative, his effort as it is, spreads across too many issues and struggles to retain the reader’s interest. 

On the plus side though, Wein’s Ozymandias series isn’t a bad read. It’s by no means the best of the collection but it’s worth a look. Darwyn Cooke’s Minutemen is easily the best book in the series, perhaps because the Minutemen group were left less explored by Moore in the original book than the titular Watchmen. Perhaps the less-encumbered nature of the creative process along with some gorgeous, gorgeous visuals (also by Cooke who both wrote and drew the book) are the winning ticket here – of all of the titles in the series, this is the only one that really feels like it adds something of worth to the Watchmen universe. The ending in particular is excellent; of all the titles only this one seems to be able to replicate a spark of the deconstructive genius that makes the original story a stone-cold classic.

Told from the perspective of Hollis Mason, the original Night Owl, Minutemen attempts to add finer detail to the broader strokes left by Moore and Gibbons in the source material. Minor characters such as Silhouette, Dollar Bill and Mothman are fleshed out in greater detail here and form a solid supporting cast that really add something to the story as it moves through the Minutemen’s chequered existence. Events, both historical and quasi-historical (from the Watchmen universe) occur in the background or foreground of the story, firmly grounding it within Moore’s universe and Cooke’s art doesn’t hurt either; its golden-age style drips with nostalgia (not the Viedt perfume) and looks like it could have leapt straight from Action Comics #1. Straight after flooring Captain Axis with a left hook, presumably.

Punching Evil - right in its stupid, evil face!

I can’t decide whether the quality of this particular book was down to superior writing by Cook or the fact that he had greater scope with which to realise his ideas – a bigger sandbox to play in, if you like. Having said that, there are other books that are worth reading. As mentioned previously, Strazynski’s Dr Manhattan is worth a read; it doesn’t deviate excitingly from the source material but it is well written. Cooke scores again with a decent Silk Spectre story set against the flower-power backdrop of 1960s San Francisco but on the whole, the Before Watchmen series is a disappointment. Nite-Owl, The Comedian and Rorschach are short-changed here in the storytelling stakes and the minor character features such as Moloch and Dollar Bill along with the Black Freighter-esque back-up feature simply smacks of padding out the issues to cash in.

‘Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends.’ That’s superior blue deity-speak for "you’re an asshole."

So. To read or not to read? That is the question. Well, we’re in 2015 now, a year or so since the series’ completion and if you’ve got this far without reading the prequel books then I imagine that you can probably live without needing to know why Moloch’s ears are so messed up. But if you are still curious? I’d advise picking up a couple of the Minutemen books and giving them a try but if they don’t float your boat, there’s little chance of the rest of the series doing so. And what about the future of the Watchmen franchise in print? (That’s right, it’s a franchise now kids!) Who knows? Perhaps DC will launch After Watchmen one day and we’ll get to experience The Further Adventures of Nite-Owl and the Silk Spectre; Dr Manhattan pondered the possibilities of creating new life in a galaxy that was ‘less complicated.’ Maybe we could follow him there? Who knows indeed, but as Dr Manhattan himself says to Ozymandias in the wake of the latter’s murder of millions, all in the name of saving the world: ‘Nothing ends Adrian, Nothing ever ends.’

Quite right Doctor. At least not where there’s a buck or two involved. 


Thanks for reading folks. The Geek Beat's Comic Book Retrospective will return next month but The Geek Beat will be back next week with more content.

Whatever you happen to do in this crazy, crazy world, be sure to follow DC and The Geek Beat on Twitter @vertigoDC for exclusive content. It'll do him the world of good, it really will. He only has 12 followers. What are you waiting for? Go on!