Why Do We Fall?

Remember this moment? Remember this question? "Why
do we fall, Bruce?"

So we can lie on the floor stubbornly insisting we haven't?

So we can sit with our aching ass on the cold terrazzo insisting that gravity is a myth?

How about repeating like a politico's talking points that it's not the floor at all and we are, in actuality, on Dancing With the Stars foxtrotting with Jennifer Gray?

No. Why do we fall? So we learn how to get up.

I recently saw a piece on the 10 biggest WTF moments in comics. Not surprising which company took home the trophy for the big #1.

In 1998, DC made the mother of all WTF decisions when they opted to change the character of Superman. This character that had stood for 60 years, and had just been killed off a few years prior to show his utter importance not only to comics but to the world, was out the door...

A change of costume or marriage status is one thing, but completely altering everything that established the character as an American icon in the first place is something else entirely.

Several readers marked this as the first pock of the disease which has consumed just about all the characters now, the first blatant sign that those entrusted to write these characters have no understanding of what defines them or of their iconic significance in the greater world outside their Thursday To-Do list.

But not me. For once, I'm going to stand between DC and the ones throwing stones, because here's the thing: as soon as they realized the ground had given way under their feet and they were falling into a deep pit with a bunch of angry bats baring their teeth and hissing bat-spittle into their faces, they changed him back. The article itself admits "the explanation to get him back to normal was quite vague, probably a result of the severe backlash of comic book fans and their desire to fix the problem as quickly as possible."

They didn't tap Wizard to call it a giant step forward in comics, they didn't embark on a PR campaign to try and convince the terminally stupid that unsweetened lemon juice tastes just like water, they didn't figure there would be a new crop of gullible half-wits who would be coming along any minute to replace the 80% of their readership heading out the door. They didn't think up even worst things to do to Superman to punish the fans for not accepting the fiasco. They got up. That's why we fall. And if we can't get our asses out of that hole on our own, we scream for help before the rest of the ground gives and we fall farther.

Remember a few weeks ago I said The Reaper is out there, and DC's attitude that it's okay to mess things up further/they'll fix it (or not) next year was horrifically out of touch with the reality that there may not BE a next year? Anyone who thought I was being melodramatic, please turn and wave goodbye to Wizard. It's gone, as of yesterday. All staff let go. If a new online magazine transpires to replace it, the focus is to be on pop culture and the non-comics media where these characters still thrive. Not print comics.

Do I have your attention now, boys?

Fantastic Four is snuffing a major character today. What makes this different from past fan-inflaming stunts is that it's the first under Disney. That means if it doesn't work out (and by "work out" I don't mean by the comics definition 'people hate it' but the definition of everyone else on the planet), then those responsible are going to be introduced to a concept that is new to them but familiar to everyone else who works for a living: consequences. You make a bad decision, you piss off customers, you materially damage a company's assets, there are consequences. I don't think it's a bad thing. It's not going to be a pleasant adjustment. Growing up often isn't. But it's pretty much the only choice the medium has if it wants to survive.

Why do fall? Well, eventually to learn how to get up. For some though, there is an intermediary step: to learn to recognize the hole, and then to accept that the hole is not the place to be.

On a lighter note, it's a big week for Cat-Tales. The Dracula spinoff Capes and Bats releases its penultimate chapter today, and there's a plot twist that absolutely nobody saw coming--but which was right in front of us the entire time. I have to admit, I was floored when I read it. Scared the cat with my gasps of surprise. We're also less than 48 hours from the launch of a new feature to make life easier for our mobile friends. Work is underway on the new chapter of Trophies, while reviews continue to come in on À Bon Chat, Bon Rat.

Chris Dee
www.catwoman-cattales.com
cattales.yuku.com
cattales.wikispaces.com

Thank you for reading. If you are viewing this post anywhere other than The Catitat you are reading a mirror. Please visit the original posting in The Catitat to leave a comment.

*Discreet cough* Oh Mr. Nolan, A Word in Your Ear

There’s an ad out right now for Netflix or some similar outfit that talks about the different levels a good children’s movie should have: accessible to kids but with more going that speaks to adults. The Toy Story universe is a perfect example, it has its own analogy for
Death, for God's sake. While the toys can cease to exist by being utterly destroyed, that’s not it. They might fear winding up on Sid’s worktable and having fireworks strapped to their ass, but that’s not a fate that is going to befall every toy. There is a different reality, a painful one that every one of them will have to face sooner or later: the children who play with them will grow up. They all know it, and like us living folks and the Grim Reaper, they try not to think about it. There is a REASON the staples of our popular storytelling revolve around heroes who can die but don’t, who come through dangerous situation after dangerous situation and always come out triumphant and unscathed—and that reason isn’t because car chases are cool or explosions look awesome on the big screen. It’s because we are all food for worms and we know it. As always, those who understand the moving parts that make a story work will keep on pulling off these amazing hits, while those grasping desperately at stunt after stunt will keep on failing.

Pixar is one of those who understand. They succeed more often than is statistically possible, and a huge part of that is drop-dead perfect storytelling. When they made Toy Story 2, there were exactly two sequels to spectacularly popular movies which were recognized as better than the originals: The Godfather Part II and The Empire Strikes Back. John Lassiter, et al STUDIED those movies, not in a dumb superficial way but by delving into their structures and content: how much of the first films were referenced, how much was built on, how much was new. Not just churning out more of the same. Not trashing everything that made the originals what they were. Theme and variation, theme and recapitulation. It was a magnificent effort, and the results were amazing. Toy Story 2 is a damn good movie. So is 3, btw, but I’m talking about first sequels for a reason.

There is now a third movie sequel that is significantly better than the original. It’s
The Dark Knight. The difference is that the original was no Godfather. Batman Begins was not a great movie. It was good, but it was seriously flawed—and while certain fanboys may start to howl at those words, Christopher Nolan and his band are certainly not among them. They know their first film was flawed because they set about fixing every single one of its shortcomings in the second. They even TOLD US that’s what they were doing. What was it Bruce said stitching himself up? “I learn from my mistakes.”

NOW, not in 2005 but now, today, Christopher Nolan is in that same position as Francis Ford Coppola, George Lucas and John Lassiter. He’s made the perfect Batman movie. How in the name of Robert Abraham Kane do you top it? I say take a page from Toy Story and analyze those two great sequels: Godfather II and ESB, and also--this is important--forget Batman Begins ever happened. Calm down, I’m not saying scrap its continuity. I know that kind of talk makes the fanboys heads explode. I’m saying for sequel-writing purposes, Batman Begins is no foundation. Approach B3 as a second movie with the goal of surpassing
TDK as if it was the only Batman movie ever made. All Begins had to do was be better than Schumacher. The aforementioned Netflix ad can do that much. The video for the Batman rollercoaster at six flags that instructs you how to use a seatbelt—better than Schumacher. So making Begins posed none of those expectations challenges. Then, making
TDK, begins left you with a nice checklist of errors to fix. That isn’t the case here.
TDK was perfect. It was PERFECT. So this is terra incognita, Mr. Nolan, and it’s time to turn our attention to Pixar’s approach, looking to the great sequels and cracking the code of what made them work. That done, that formula achieved, apply it to the “original” --but that original to be drawn upon and built upon is
TDK.

One woman’s opinion, of course. Your mileage may vary, except in Wisconsin. Batteries not included.

In other news, not a lot of writing happened last week. The triple release of the visitor center, the cocktails, and the new website burned up a lot of purple kitty energy. But not to worry, ground is broken on Chapter 7, and now that The TBA that Ate Tokyo is TBA no more, everything will be going a lot faster.

Chris Dee
www.catwoman-cattales.com
cattales.yuku.com
cattales.wikispaces.com

Thank you for reading. If you are viewing this post anywhere other than The Catitat you are reading a mirror. Please visit the original posting in The Catitat to leave a comment.

The week... Oh for Bast Sake! NOW WHAT?

Okay then, so much happened in Cat-Tales last week I didn’t even manage to get a blog out. I had another chance to play my friend’s Lego Batman game, and as Classic Catwoman, I opened a can of whoopass the goggled pretender—not once but many times, shocking my friend with the violence of a purple cat crossed. It would have been a very cute and entertaining entry, but nobody got to read it because I was more than occupied prepping for the big rollout over the weekend. In case you haven’t seen it:

• The website got a makeover, including some spiff video wallpaper that did not shoot or edit itself.
  
• Armchair Detective and Not My Kink are out for Kindle and Mobi. 
  
• Cat-Tales opened a virtual Visitor Center in Second Life (otherwise known in these parts as the TBA that ate Tokyo).
• Shane Sahr, the rockstar bartender at Seattle’s famous Tini Bigs Martini Bar, released a quartet of Cat-Tales Cocktails that are too sinfully indulgent to be believed. 
  

Now, that’s a lot to get ready, particularly when one of my clients had a press thing and needed a little extra web-work himself. Pulled it off though, got everything together, produced the triple launch without a hitch. Got some nice screenshots of the visitor center, got a new headshot of myself as a pixilated person IN the visitor center, got pictures of the criminally indulgent Cat-Tales Cocktails that should have you all on a plane to Seattle just to order one of these babies. I was all set to get up this morning write up a killer entry about the whole thing when…

Sean Hayes… dressed as Spiderman… singing Don’t Rain on My Parade

Picture a close-up on Chris with a strange little twitch above her right eye. "That’s… Sean Hayes… That’s… Radio City Music Hall… That’s…"

I’m a theatre-gal, folks. Remember
Reputation?  It takes a certain kind of mind to come up with an idea like "Cat-Tales: An Evening with Catwoman", and that’s a mind who’s spent an awful lot of time backstage. I’m also hip deep in comic book superheroes. Sean Hayes hosting the Tony Awards, covering Streisand, dressed as Spiderman, that’s not something someone like me can me can just IGNORE!  For the love of God and Stan Lee, that’s like… for 30 years we’ve all assumed the ’66 Batman was lightning in a bottle, a product of time and place that, if there is justice in the universe, should never be attempted again. But Sean Hayes? Don’t Rain on My Parade? CAMP LIVES, folks. Superhero Camp is alive and well and heading for the Lunt-Fontane.

And y’know what? I’m fine with it. Perhaps the most resilient aftereffect of Miller on the Bat mythos and comic books in general is this overblown seriousness. Maybe it’s not as corrosive to the soul as the other stuff, but it is every bit as damaging to the genre as a whole. It simply isn’t necessary to take this all so f-ing seriously 24/7/365.  It is permissible to lighten up and have a little goddamn fun, and by NOT doing so, a lot of people who would be fans are shoo'd away - because unlike the fanboys who keep enabling this crap, we demand our our entertainment make us FEEL GOOD. The new Brave and the Bold cartoon gets that.  The DC vs Marvel guys on YouTube certainly get it.  Hell, even the uber-realistic Nolan movies get it.  Look at Liam Neason’s face when Bruce finally makes his costumed entrance in Batman Begins. They get it.  They ALL get it.

Perhaps that's why Batman can thrive in movies, in cartoons, in games, and (humbly) in prose fiction, in everywhere EXCEPT the comics medium where he began, is because those guys are the only ones locked into this mindset that Batman is a serious-fucking-business. Maybe if we can just get them to unclench, to embrace the lip twitch and all that it implies, there’s hope.  If not, we can just keep showing this:

and get days of free entertainment watching them try to prevent their heads from exploding.  That could be fun too.

Chris Dee
www.catwoman-cattales.com 
cattales.yuku.com
cattales.wikispaces.com

Thank you for reading. If you are viewing this post anywhere other than The Catitat you are reading a mirror. Please visit the original posting in The Catitat to leave a comment.