The Pulp (Issue 14, March 2015) by The Pulp

Issue 14, March 2015

The People of the Hour! magazine Editor Talk Hey, team. I know…it’s been a while. We didn’t forget about you. We promise. We’re back with the digital edition of issue 14! And we’ve got some pretty exciting news. Matt Bowes, one of our regular contributors, has joined our team as the new Arts + Film Editor. I’m really happy that he’ll be more involved in The Pulp and making sure you readers get the best film content possible. Welcome, Matt! Some more good news—we’ve been nominated for a Yeggie! Also known as the Edmonton New Media Awards, the Yeggies celebrates the best in new media in the city. I’m honoured that The Pulp is even nominated. We’re up for the Arts + Culture category. Pretty sweet. Other than that, we’ve got tons of film, manga, artist, and musing-related content for you this month. Enjoy!

Cheryl Editor-in-Chief thepulppress.com Cover image: Gamora by Sylvia Moon Back cover image: Link by Johnni Kok

Cheryl Cottrell-Smith, Editor-in-Chief Cosplayer, gamer, comic collector, anime lover, and bookworm. Enjoys all of these things more if there’s wine involved. @CottrellSmithC Matt Bowes, Arts + Film Editor A self-proclaimed cultural commentator of good taste, Matt enjoys movies and books, and writes about them at thisnerdinglife.com. @matt_bowes Russ Dobler, Game/Science Columnist Known as "Dog" to friends and weirdos, Russ is a wannabe scientist and beer lover. He can be found blogging at thoughtfulconduit.com/whatdoesthismean. Allan Mott, Lit + Film Columnist Film enthusiast and blogger at vanityfear.com. Allan can be found giving opinions on films and other cultural paraphernalia @HouseofGlib. Erin Fraser, Lit + FIlm Columnist Cinephile, comics lover, and all-round intelligent geek. When Erin isn’t watching movies, she’s talking about them on her podcast Trash, Art, and the Movies. @erinefraser C. B. W. Caswell, Contributor Caswell has written about fashion, food, music, petroleum, arts&culture, and fiction for numerous local publications. He writes professionally and was nominated for the 2014 AMPA Emerging Writing Award.

Issue 14, March 2015

CONTENTS lit + film

Magical Girls Don’t Always Win Oscars – Erin Fraser

Why Haven’t You Watched This Yet? Los Angeles Plays Itself (2003) – Matt Bowes

One Too Many: Avenging Force (1986) – Allan Mott

Why Did No One Tell Me “Birdman” Is a Self-Righteous Polemic? – Russ Dobler

musings

comics + graphic novels

nerd culture

Is it possible to stay young forever? – Kelsey Beier

What to Read: Eyeshield 21 – C. B. W. Caswell

23 3

Artist Alleys and the Growth of Convention Culture – Cheryl Cottrell-Smith

Issue 14, March 2015

Magical Girls Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t Always Win Oscars 4

Written by Erin Fraser | Images courtesy of Song of the Sea and The Tale of Princess Kaguya film studios

Issue 14, March 2015

As a cinephile I have a love/hate relationship with the Academy Awards. On one hand, for one night the general public seems to care about film as much as I do, but on the other, the awards themselves seem to be more and more a popularity contest than any measure of quality. Take the Best Animated Feature category, for example. This award has been handed out for the past fourteen years and nine of those have gone to Hollywood’s biggest animated studio, Walt Disney Pictures. All of those nine films and three additional winners from other studios were made with CGI animation, which has become the new standard in children’s entertainment. Only one handdrawn film and one claymation feature have ever won, and that was within the first five years of the award’s existence. Unfortunately, to my mind the category has become a reflection of popularity and box office as opposed to celebrating the best in animation. This is especially troubling if you are a film lover and an animation enthusiast like myself. While 3D computer animation may be the most popular mode of production in Hollywood, studios like Aardman in the United Kingdom, Cartoon Saloon in Ireland, Ghibli in Japan, Folimage in France, and Laika in, yes, the United States, continue to use traditional hand-drawn and stop motion techniques with stunning

United States, continue to use traditional hand-drawn and stop motion techniques with stunning results. These studios put artistry and creativity before merchandising and attempts at box office domination. So you can see my frustration and sadness when I read the Academy Award results last month (I wouldn’t dare watch them, as like I said they make me mad…and you wouldn’t like me when I’m mad) and learnt that Disney’s Big Hero 6 (Don Hall and Chris Williams, 2014) won over its fellow nominees, including: Laika’s The Boxtrolls (Graham Annable and Anthony Stacchi, 2014), Cartoon Saloon’s Song Of The Sea (Tomm Moore, 2014), and Ghibli’s The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya (Isao Takahata, 2013). Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed Big Hero 6 quite a lot and thought it was a better film than the other CGI nominee, How To Train Your Dragon 2 (Dean DeBlois, 2014), but it was nowhere near as imaginative, eloquent, or moving as some of its competition. While The Boxtrolls was lucky enough to receive a wide release and many have had the chance to see this wonderful film in theatres, Song Of The Sea and Princess Kaguya have not received quite the same widespread attention from filmgoers, despite their nominations. This is a shame, as both films are deeply affecting stories that are told with some of the most beautiful animation in recent years, if not ever.

films are deeply affecting stories that are told with some of the most beautiful animation in recent years, if not ever. The two films are surprisingly similar. Both feature gorgeous hand-drawn animation with a watercolour aesthetic, both are inspired by well-known folklore from their respective countries, and both are coming-of-age stories that centre on girls with mysterious and magical origins. They are both very unique cinematic experiences that touch on different and deeply affecting aspects of growing up and finding one’s place in the world. Tomm Moore’s Song Of The Sea Irish animator Tom Moore, best known for his previous Oscarnominated feature The Book Of Kells, brings us the story of Ben and his little sister Saoirse in Song of the Sea. Six years ago, on the night of Saorise’s birth, their mother disappeared mysteriously and suddenly, leaving her husband to care for and raise the two young children on a secluded island where he mans the lighthouse. Ben resents Saoirse; she is drawn to the sea and Ben, who perpetually sports a lifejacket, is afraid of the water. When she is discovered missing from her bed one evening as she has taken off for a clandestine swim, the children’s paternal grandmother insists on taking them with her to live in the city, separating Ben from his

Issue 14, March 2015

Tomm Moore’s Song Of The Sea Irish animator Tom Moore, best known for his previous Oscar-nominated feature The Book Of Kells, brings us the story of Ben and his little sister Saoirse in Song of the Sea. Six years ago, on the night of Saorise’s birth, their mother disappeared mysteriously and suddenly, leaving her husband to care for and raise the two young children on a secluded island where he mans the lighthouse. Ben resents Saoirse; she is drawn to the sea and Ben, who perpetually sports a lifejacket, is afraid of the water. When she is discovered missing from her bed one evening as she has taken off for a clandestine swim, the children’s paternal grandmother insists on taking them with her to live in the city, separating Ben from his beloved dog Cú and Saoirse from the sea. It doesn’t take long for the children to sneak out of their beds and begin their perilous journey back home. Along the way they learn the truth about the ancient Celtic myths their mother passed on to them and why Saoirse has never spoken a word in her short life. Visually, the film finds depth in flatness. The stunning animation uses a rich colour palette that perfectly evokes the Irish setting. Seemingly drawn from motifs in traditional Celtic art, the recurring use of circles and spirals underscores the connection between the characters, the land, and the magic that infuses both. I firmly believe that there is a level of detail and an intimacy in 2D hand drawn animation that 3D CGI computer animation cannot replicate, and, as we see in Song of The Sea, Moore is one of the best artists currently working in traditional animation. The film is inspired by the myth of the selkie, Celtic mermaids who transform from seals to seemingly human women when on land. The legends describe how these shape shifters wash up on shore and take human lovers, but this always ends in tragedy, as the call of the sea is too strong for the selkie to resist. In Song Of The Sea however, selkies hold the power to liberate daoine sídhe, or fae folk, who have been turned to stone by a powerful owl witch named Macha. As opposed to tragedy and romance, the traditional topic of the stories of selkies, Moore uses the myth to craft an engaging tale about the importance of family and dealing with one’s emotions. While early on in the film Ben resents Saoirse and wants little to do with her, over the course of their journey he begins to appreciate her, especially when faced the prospect of losing her. He has to confront his greatest fear, the sea, in order to save her and keep his family together. Saoirse, for her part, has to push past her feelings of sorrow and find the inner strength to both accept her destiny as well as her place among her family. Meanwhile, the whole family must cope with the mysterious disappearance of their mother, learning to accept her absence and come to terms with their loss.

When faced with criticism that his films The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth were too scary for children, Jim Henson claimed that he felt that it wasn’t healthy for children to always feel safe and that it was important to scare them. Moore understands this. We have a tendency to view childhood as an idyllic carefree time in one’s life, and feel that children need to be protected from fear and sadness. The truth is, though, that growing up is full of anxiety. It is just as important for children to learn how to process these emotions as it is for adults.

Issue 14, March 2015

detail and an intimacy in 2D hand drawn animation that 3D CGI computer animation cannot replicate, and, as we see in Song of The Sea, Moore is one of the best artists currently working in traditional animation. The film is inspired by the myth of the selkie, Celtic mermaids who transform from seals to seemingly human women when on land. The legends describe how these shape shifters wash up on shore and take human lovers, but this always ends in tragedy, as the call of the sea is too strong for the selkie to resist. In Song Of The Sea however, selkies hold the power to liberate daoine sídhe, or fae folk, who have been turned to stone by a powerful owl witch named Macha. As opposed to tragedy and romance, the traditional topic of the stories of selkies, Moore uses the myth to craft an engaging tale about the importance of family and dealing with one’s emotions. While early on in the film Ben resents Saoirse and wants little to do with her, over the course of their journey he begins to appreciate her, especially when faced the prospect of losing her. He has to confront his greatest fear, the sea, in order to save her and keep his family together. Saoirse, for her part, has to push past her feelings of sorrow and find the inner strength to both accept her destiny as well as her place among her family. Meanwhile, the whole family must cope with the mysterious disappearance of their mother, learning to accept her absence and come to terms with their loss. When faced with criticism that his films The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth were too scary for children, Jim Henson claimed that he felt that it wasn’t healthy for children to always feel safe and that it was important to scare them. Moore understands this. We have a tendency to view childhood as an idyllic carefree time in one’s life, and feel that children need to be protected from fear and sadness. The truth is, though, that growing up is full of anxiety. It is just as important for children to learn how to process these emotions as it is for adults. In Song Of The Sea, Moore beautifully expresses this with a villain who bottles up others’ emotions so as to not have to deal with feelings at all, good or bad. The horror of this is apparent, but it is also a realistic representation of the way children and adults alike are told to deal with their feelings. Our family of heroes shows us that not only takes strength to face one’s anxieties head on but also that it is a necessary part of growing up and living a full life.

Isao Takahata’s The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya

Issue 14, March 2015

In The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya, filmmaker Isao Takahata presents a similar narrative of growing up and coming to terms with one’s place in life, but with a larger, more sweeping scope. Takahata is a living legend in the field of animation. One of the founders of the acclaimed Studio Ghibli (the other being the celebrated Hayao Miyazaki), the 79 year-old director is responsible for many well-loved films and series including Heidi: A Girl Of The Alps (1974), Only Yesterday (1991), Pom Poko (1994), My Neighbours The Yamadas (1999), and Grave Of The Fireflies (1988), which is one of the single most emotionally devastating films ever made. Kaguya stands to be his final film, and many would argue that it is his best. Based on Japan’s oldest folktale, “The Tale Of The Bamboo Cutter,” the film follows the life of a mysterious young woman from her infancy to her adulthood. While out working one day, a bamboo cutter discovers a tiny girl inside a glowing bamboo stalk. He takes the baby home to his wife and the two decide to raise her as a princess, believing her to be royalty. As she matures, her parents decide that it isn’t proper to raise her in the mountainous countryside, so they relocate to the city where she can learn to be a noblewoman. There she is given the name Princess Kaguya. However, life in the city doesn’t suit Kaguya, and she falls into a depression as she misses her

Isao Takahata’s The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya

Kaguya. However, life in the city doesn’t suit Kaguya, and she falls into a depression as she misses her friends and her carefree life in the countryside. Eventually she comes to understand that she was born a princess on the moon and was sent to Earth to live a mortal life. As Kaguya begins to feel the pull of the moon drawing her back home, she clings strongly to her life on Earth, knowing that she will lose all of her memories once she ascends and takes her place in the moon kingdom. The film was in production for over five years and the craftsmanship shows on screen. Animated in a style similar to Takahata’s previous film, Yamadas, Kaguya has a very distinct style and look that is unlike the typical anime aesthetic. Rather than bright colours and angular lines, it resembles traditional Japanese paintings and calligraphy with a watercolour palette and fluid movement. The brush strokes that make up the characters are apparent, and rather than immerse the audience in a perfectly constructed world, Takahata lays bare the film’s amazing artistry so that you can appreciate the details in every frame. The result is a film that feels timeless. While a distinctly Japanese tale, Kaguya’s story is also an exceptionally universal one. The film provides an empathetic portrait of growing up and coming to terms with one’s identity. Kaguya’s

Issue 14, March 2015

provides an empathetic portrait of growing up and coming to terms with one’s identity. Kaguya’s childhood in the mountains is idyllic; she has a large group of friends to play with and enjoys a great deal of freedom exploring the environment. When she is moved to the city she is confined and isolated. She is taught how to dress and act like a lady, a process that includes uncomfortable dress and painting her teeth black. Here the film takes on the classism and sexism found in society at the time. Other girls gossip that Kaguya’s common parents are trying to buy her nobility and look down on her for this; while Kaguya finds herself at odds with the strange customs of femininity that she is expected to adhere to. Sadly, when she returns to the countryside to visit her friends, especially Sutemaru, a boy she had grown especially close to, she discovers that they have moved on without her. This realization causes her to grow distant. As her inherent virtues, her beauty, become known

moved on without her. This realization causes her to grow distant. As her inherent virtues, her beauty, become known throughout the land, powerful men begin to declare their love for her and seek her hand in marriage, and she toys with her would-be suitors in humorous but cruel ways. Her despondency is deeply felt as she deals with expectations and responsibilities that are placed on her because of her status and gender, and not her own desires. As the moon begins to call her back, Kaguya becomes even more distraught. Despite her unhappiness, she is attached to her life on Earth and wishes to hold on to it. She returns once more to the mountains to be with Sutemaru, who has grown up and now has a wife and family of his own. They spend one last moment together flying through the air and Kaguya reveals that she would have been happy with him. This final meeting is bittersweet, as both Kaguya and Sutemaru cling to her humanity. Ultimately though,

would have been happy with him. This final meeting is bittersweet, as both Kaguya and Sutemaru cling to her humanity. Ultimately though, she has to accept her destiny and rejoin her immortal place among the celestial court. In doing so, she finally concedes to leaving her childhood behind and becomes an adult. Song Of The Sea and The Tale Of The Princess Kaguya are both powerful and empathetic films about the process of growing up and accepting one’s place in the world. Tom Moore and Isao Takahata are both exceptional filmmakers and animators who tell visually striking stories with deeply moving characters. While not as popular as other animated films that came out this year, these two are undoubtedly the best, regardless of what the Academy says.

Issue 14, March 2015

What to Read: Eyeshield 21 Eyeshield 21 Written by C. B. W. Caswell | Images courtesy of Riichiro Inagaki and Yusuke Murata

Issue 14, March 2015

Published: 2002—2009 Chapters: 333 Genre: Comedy, Drama, Sports Summary: Sena Kobayakawa is a runty, push-over freshman drafted into his high-school’s American Football Club. After becoming a school celebrity thanks to his amazing speed, he takes on the mantle of Eyeshield 21 to hide his identity — not knowing that he’s not the first Eyeshield 21 or just how difficult, dangerous, and amazing American football really is. Favourite Character: Hiruma Mamori Why you should read it: It makes football accessible to people who wouldn’t normally be into it (like many anime/manga enthusiasts), has amazing illustrations, and develops group of characters you’ll remember long after you’re finished. “I don’t know anything about football,” I told my poker buddy, Daniel Lu. “Doesn’t matter,” Danny replied, not looking up from his hand of bum poker cards. “Read it.” “I don’t even really like it as a sport.” I’d go to a game. I could watch it on TV. But as soon as someone started in on stats and player histories and yelling for any reason, I’d check out. “Doesn’t matter, read it.” “And I’m actually into a couple of other manga at the moment and I don’t think I’ll have the time—“ “Doesn’t matter, read it.” So, I read it. And I’ve read it front-to-back twice since. And it’s a story I come back to every couple of years, with characters that I miss and an exciting narrative arc that is both about/not about football. 11

Written by Riichiro Inagaki (who served as a judge for the Tezuka Award with Akira Toriyama of Dragonball/Dragon

Issue 14, March 2015

Written by Riichiro Inagaki (who served as a judge for the Tezuka Award with Akira Toriyama of Dragonball/Dragon Quest fame and Eiichiro Oda, known as the creator of One Piece) and illustrated by Yusuke Murata (who is currently illustrating the sardonic and fantastic One-Punch Man), Eyeshield 21 is the story of high-school freshman Sena Kobayakawa. A runt all his life, Sena was constantly picked on and, since he was always running from bullies, he inadvertently developed amazing speed. Spotted running by the American football club’s captain, he’s drafted on the spot—to a team of two members (American-style football isn’t exactly huge as a sport in Japan). The story begins with Sena and his two new friends cobbling together enough members to make a full team, each with unique abilities making them perfect for their roles as linemen, receivers, and kickers. The goal? The Japanese American football championship. At least, until they’re ready to take on nationals, and eventually the world.

given a title. A running cross-over step (used to change direction without losing speed) is called the Devil Bat Ghost, and the illustration surrounding each technique creates a visual metaphor for the purpose the technique serves.

So, why do I read this every couple of years?

The Football I developed an appreciation for football reading Eyeshield because of the way it’s integrated into the story. Like most manga, where the main character develops a technique and further refines it throughout the series (Goku going Super Saiyan, Naruto’s Rasengan, etc.), Sena develops his ability to run. However, the manga constantly refers to actual football techniques that he gains from coaching or watching other players. Sena learns how to properly cut and pivot, the defensive linemen learn how to bump, the receiver learns how to make a backwards catch, and so on. Also, famous football plays are also integrated into the team strategy. What gives the techniques a cartoonish edge is how each is 12

given a title. A running cross-over step (used to change

Sena using his technique, the Devil Bat Ghost Also, each team that’s encountered in the America Football league sticks to a theme based on their name. One team that’s based on Knights (Teikoku High School’s Alexanders) has a running back whose one-armed tackles are depicted as spears. Another team with a western theme (Seibu High School’s Wild Gunmans [sic]) has a quarterback whose throws are so fast his arm is compared to a pistol. All of this adds a great cartoonish element to football that not only makes it exciting for those who aren’t fans of the sport, but also gives a lot of opportunity for amazing illustrations, all of which are taken advantage of by the dramatic shots drawn by Yusuke Murata.

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The Story/Character Arc You’re aware of every character’s motivations and every character has a goal. Considering the roster for Eyeshield 21 has over 40 characters, this is a monumental feat of writing and gives the story depth no matter who the story centres on in a particular chapter. And the team dynamic is second to none. Since each character has a full personality, you have a sense of what they would act like. It makes the victories more exciting, the losses more heartfelt, and the jokes all the funnier. It’s so much fun to watch characters bounce off one another in ways that you wouldn’t expect. There’s also the way the story develops tension between the schools. The Devil-Bats (the name of Sena’s high-school team) lose to a team and end up coming back to beat them. Hated, irredeemable enemies become teammates—some of the best chapters are where former nemeses join with the Devil-Bats; these characters that were once such a threat to the team are now a menace to newer, stronger opponents. Admittedly, the character roster is light on female characters and the ones that take part are given roles such as the clubhouse cleaner and cheerleader. However, their personalities more than make up for their light roles and they’re treated as serious characters. In the end, Eyeshield 21 is a visual and storytelling triumph. Its characters are as detailed as the action scenes and every moment feels like you’re in the stands. And as someone who never understood the excitement of high school football, the Deimon High Devil Bats gave me a good idea of what I was missing.

Hated, irredeemable enemies become teammates—some of the best chapters are where former nemeses join with the Devil-Bats; these characters that were once such a threat to the team are now a menace to newer, stronger opponents. Admittedly, the character roster is light on female characters and the ones that take part are given roles such as the clubhouse cleaner and cheerleader. However, their personalities more than make up for their light roles and they’re treated as serious characters. In the end, Eyeshield 21 is a visual and storytelling triumph. Its characters are as detailed as the action scenes and every moment feels like you’re in the stands. And as someone who never understood the excitement of high school football, the Deimon High Devil Bats gave me a good idea of what I was missing.

Issue 14, March 2015

issuu.com/thepulp

Issue 14, March 2015

Written by Matt Bowes | Images courtesy of Thom Anderson

Whether or not you’ve actually been to Los Angeles doesn’t matter.

We’ve all gone there, together really, in two-hour increments delivered to us by Hollywood filmmakers. We all have our own idea of Los Angeles in our heads as a result, and to be quite honest, sometimes that city doesn’t always come off so well. It’s a city populated by Hollywood weirdoes, of excess, vice and corruption. Of smog and phonies, overshadowed in the public consciousness as a city of the future now by tech bastions found in Silicon Valley to the north. A now ironically-named City of Angels. Whether it’s desperately in need of a New York City cop to fend off thieves masquerading as terrorists, the site of murder, mayhem and discussions about fast food, the collision of hard-boiled detectives and femmes fatale following the Second World War, or first on the list of cities targeted for destruction by aliens, the movies have not been entirely kind to Los Angeles. Los Angeles Plays Itself, which has finally come to DVD after many years of being unavailable by legal means, is an attempt to fix the ontological damage Hollywood has caused to the city. It’s an essay film, a collection of hundreds of movie scenes spliced together with narration in order to make an argument. Filmmaker Thom Anderson appreciates his city on multiple levels, and through use of narration in the film related to us by Encke King his movie proves him a tenacious and loving caretaker of this place. The interplay between narration and film samples is key. While it takes a little bit of getting used to, King’s gravelly voice relating Andersen’s words becomes like our tour guide over the three hours of Los Angeles Plays Itself. It feels like the ancestor of newer essay filmmakers, most notably Red Letter Media’s Mr. Plinkett and his take downs of the Star Wars prequel trilogy, or series found at PressPlay. King’s voice has the tone of a world-weary private eye, the kind of character we see depicted so often in Los Angeles.

Why Haven’t You Watched This Yet? Los Angeles Plays Itself (2003)

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trilogy, or series found at PressPlay. King’s voice has the tone of a world-weary private eye, the kind of character we see depicted so often in Los Angeles. Andersen proves quite angry about the treatment of his home, almost overly so, which becomes a fascinating counterpoint to the official narratives trotted out by the Hollywood studios. I think most film viewers haven’t really heard this sort of a rebuttal to how Los Angeles is characteristically depicted, and it’s fascinating to think about. Andersen is mad about how the city’s geography has been warped by film, and how the only way he’s able to see parts of it anymore are by watching old movies, as, like my own home, Los Angeles has a terrible record of maintaining historical buildings. Andersen does a great job of explaining to viewers how New York is somehow inherently cinematic, inherently its own, while Los Angeles must be used correctly, staged perfectly, in order to achieve the same effect. The film is split into sections, the first of which is called The City as Background. Here, Andersen examines how Los Angeles was often used to represent other cities, often to hilariously incongruous effect. One great example comes with James Cagney and The Public Enemy, which barely even attempted to hide the grass sprouting out near new L.A. developments pretending to be downtown Chicago’s streets. Andersen does a great job of explaining to viewers how New York is somehow inherently cinematic, inherently its own, while Los Angeles must be used correctly, staged perfectly, in order to achieve the same effect. Andersen is also confounded by Hollywood’s reluctance to leave the city’s relatively small downtown core. Los Angeles, he tells us, is a city of sprawl, many small villages linked together by roads, and the best films shot there at least attempt to acknowledge this fact. Something like the original Gone in Sixty Seconds, where exciting car chases burn rubber through the city’s industrial district, or Kiss Me Deadly, where protagonist Mike Hammer has an actual verifiable address, which lies next to the actual roads used in the movie. I think the film is at its best when it discusses architecture, and the way that film is able to adhere

fact. Something like the original Gone in Sixty Seconds, where exciting car chases burn rubber through the city’s Check out those feathers! industrial district, or Kiss Me Deadly, where protagonist Mike Hammer has an actual verifiable address, which lies next to the actual roads used in the movie. I think the film is at its best when it discusses architecture, and the way that film is able to adhere identity to these spaces. He might honestly change the way you watch movies, as he points out how modernist houses are inextricably linked with drug kingpins and corrupt government officials while Spanish Revival bungalows, while phony, give off a certain veneer that has become confused with authenticity. Fascinating stuff. There’s also a great sequence where Andersen talks about the few landmarks that are recognizable to outsiders to Los Angeles, like the City Hall building, the Bonaventure Hotel and the Bradbury Building. If I have one criticism, it’s that the home video release of the film does not add any new material. Andersen’s examination of Los Angeles stops around 2001, with the most recent movie being David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive. I would have liked to see what Andersen thinks of newer films, like Nicholas Winding Refn’s Drive, or Richard Kelly’s Southland Tales. Luckily, a Vimeo producer named Colin Marshall has picked up the slack. So why haven’t you watched Los Angeles Plays Itself yet? Well, as you can expect with a film comprised almost entirely out of scenes from other films, the legalities of getting distribution proved challenging. Luckily for us, they’ve figured it out and now everyone can enjoy this examination of place and theme on film. Los Angeles Play Itself might not completely change your mind about the “most photographed city in the world,” but what it might do is make you think about how cities are characterized by artworks set there.

Issue 14, March 2015

Artist Alleys and the Growth of Convention Culture

Written by Cheryl Cottrell-Smith | Images courtesy of Johnni Kok, Sylvia Moon and Arty McFly

[Image by Johnni Kok]

Issue 14, March 2015

Artist Alleys are a convention staple. An easy way to spend the better part of your day browsing paintings of your favourite comic characters, canvases filled with fantasy worlds, and prints of mashups that you couldn’t have dreamt up even after an entire bottle of absinthe. While cosplayers might bring your fandoms to life, the artists of Artist Alley capture them in ways that are less ephemeral— on raw materials that you can take home with you at the end of the day. It’s a beautiful sight, Artist Alley— usually stuffed full of people examining artwork, discussing fandoms and techniques with the artists. Street clothes and cosplays mingle in a delightfully quirky mix of multicoloured hair and elaborate costumes alongside those outfitted with anime tshirts and button-riddled backpacks. When a multitude of fandoms come together, you can feel the solidarity. The instant connection. Except for some. If you’re even remotely interested in comics or cosplay, you’ll have heard about the Pat Broderick fiasco late last year. Broderick, a comic book artist known for the Micronauts and “Batman: Year Three,” made a public Facebook post on December 4, 2014 against cosplayers, saying that the people who cosplay and the conventions that promote them “bring nothing of value to the shows.” This derailed into a fullon social media debate, with many artists admitting that their distaste for

cosplay stemmed from the attention (and revenue) they drew away from the artist booths. Artist Alleys are, of course, about the artists. The attention should be on the people making the effort to come to the event, set up, and put themselves and their hard work on display. While

cosplay might steal the spotlight once in a while, not all artists believe there needs to be a divide between the two groups. Johnni Kok, an artist known for kitbashing pop culture themes and putting his own unique spin on them (including toughening up categorically weaker characters and adding a cute side to terrifying ones), looks at the

bright side to the growing popularity of convention culture. “The growth means more opportunity,” says Johnni. “[Celebrities and cosplayers are] great from a marketing standpoint…I love cosplayers! Some of my best supporters are cosplayers…and when [one] makes a costume based on one of my designs, I’m on cloud nine. As an artist in Artist Alley, never treat a cosplayer poorly if you don't think they'll spend money at your table. They might come back dressed [in street clothes] later to pick up art since now they'll have their wallets, purses, and, you know...pants.” Sylvia Moon is an anime and manga artist who has been attending, displaying, and volunteering at conventions since 1999. A graduate of MacEwan’s Design program with a specialization in Digital Media, Sylvia dabbles in a variety of genres outside of her primary artwork and helped begin Animethon’s first Artist Alley almost a decade ago. “[Celebrity guests and cosplayers are] a double-edged sword,” says Sylvia. “Celebrities are great but too many at a comic-centric con might not make it seem like they care much about the latter. As for cosplayers, it really takes guts and skill to get into a costume before arriving at a con, let alone creating it.” Showcasing any form of art or creation to the world can be a stressful task. Many people might not realize the

cosplay stemmed from the attention (and revenue) they drew away from the artist booths.

bright side to the growing popularity of convention culture. "...never treat a cosplayer poorly if

patience and tenacity it takes to run a booth at a convention—artists in particular tend to manage their booths

[Image by Sylvia Moon]

[Image by Arty McFly]

Issue 14, March 2015 But what can conventions do to make the experience even better for the people manning Artist Alley?

patience and tenacity it takes to run a booth at a convention—artists in particular tend to manage their booths solo and are required to arrive before open and pack up after close. “It’s stressful to personally bring your gear and set up your table every day that the con is open,” says Sylvia. “Especially if you don’t have help or a system of help from others…[but] exposure, just getting your name out there, is important. Seeing what’s new and who is coming into the industry is important to know.” There’s a lot of pressure on artists to be at the top of their game for conventions. It’s a large investment of time and money, with long hours promoting your work and fielding requests and comments from convention-goers. And, as Johnni says, there are “the smells” that you have to put up with (thousands of people in a confined space make certain things unavoidable). “I love conventions because you can really get that moment to geek out with people who love the things I love and 19 who usually like the things that I draw,” says Johnni. “It really means a

people who love the things I love and who usually like the things that I draw,” says Johnni. “It really means a lot to me that people will spend their time and hard-earned money at my table.” Arty McFly, a newcomer to the Artist Alley scene who creates mashups of what she terms “pop culture and boredom,” made her Artist Alley debut at A Taste of Animethon last month. “It was exhilarating! I love being able to talk to people about what they like, why they’re here, about my work, [and] about their favourite pop culture things,” says Arty. “There’s a lot of foot traffic…you’re exposed to a lot of people in one area and that’s pretty terrific. [Although] a downfall is that there are a lot of other artists there to do the same thing.” With long hours, plenty of competition, and minimal time available to actually enjoy the events they’re at, our artists deserve all the support they can get.

But what can conventions do to make the experience even

“I find that some shows treat Artist Alley and comic creator guests as an afterthought,” says Johnni. “I understand that we have the lowest cost of entry when you compare our tables to general vendor booths, but some shows almost make you wonder if someone from the organization was debating between putting a ball pit or an Artist Alley in the corner of the hall. Regular correspondence from event coordinators and getting prompt replies to my emails is [a] huge deal to me.” “Artists are always a strange grey area for conventions,” says Sylvia. “We pay a reduced fee for a small space with more restrictions and we have to reserve our space for the following year by the con’s end. It really doesn't encourage change and makes the Alley predictable. [They could] really study what artists are doing to their tables and find guidelines to streamline that process.” And, of course, artists gotta eat. “Lunch or coffee vouchers would be rad,” says Arty. “Not gonna lie!” Sylvia Moon Facebook | Twitter | DeviantArt Johnni Kok Facebook | Twitter | Instagram Arty McFly Facebook | Tumblr

Issue 14, March 2015

One Too Many: Avenging Force (1986) Written by Allan Mott | Images courtesy of Sam Firstenberg and Avenging Force

Issue 14, March 2015 It’s almost like a Zen koan. If a movie studio makes a sequel to a past hit, but casts a different actor in the starring role and doesn’t actually tell anyone that the two films are connected, is it still a sequel? History is filled with scripts to sequels that never got made and were retrofitted to become original projects (for example, this year should finally see the release of the long-delayed Solace, a film whose script development began as Ei8ht, a sequel to Se7en that David Fincher ultimately rejected), as well as franchises that continued after their original stars bailed, but Avenging Force is the rare example of a film that was developed and made as a sequel, but then marketed and released without any mention of its connection to the previous film. This seems especially odd when you consider the film was produced by Menaham Golan and Yoram Globus of Cannon Studios fame—as unabashedly sequel-happy a studio that has ever existed (to the point of being responsible for the most famous sequel title of all-time, Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo). As the dudes responsible for not one, but four American Ninja movies, six Lemon Popsicle films, Superman IV: The Quest for Peace and Rambo III, it seems bizarre that they would choose to play down the fact that Avenging Force featured the return of a popular action movie character. In fact, it’s so bizarre that there’s only one reasonable way to explain it. They were afraid of Chuck Norris. Because the original film in question was Norris’ Invasion U.S.A. and his refusal to take part in Avenging Force is easily explained once you’ve seen how spectacularly the politics of the two films diverge. According to IMDb, Norris turned down the role only because he was busy making The Delta Force and Firewalker for Golan & Globus that same year, but the fact is that the production of Avenging Force could have been easily delayed if that was the only issue. No, it went ahead without him because there was no way he would have ever appeared in a film in which he had far more in common with the villains than the hero. was the first film for which Norris took a writing credit and it clearly shows. In it, he plays a former CIA operative named Matt Hunter, who—after a life of deadly action and danger—is now content to live a quiet life in the Louisiana bayou. But his tranquil existence is upended when a group of multi-ethnic communists engage in what is not so much the invasion suggested in the title, but instead a series of random acts of terrorism (including the offscreen bombing of an amusement park carousel filled with children). Spurred back into action by his sense of outrage and duty, he then proceeds to become a one-man killing machine, mowing

down the terrorists like they’re so much tissue paper—to the point that he makes it through the final gauntlet of them without so much as a cut on his cheek or a hair out of place.

down the terrorists like they’re so much tissue paper—to the point that he makes it through the final gauntlet of them without so much as a cut on his cheek or a hair out of place. It’s a quintessentially ‘80s Cold War action film—devoid of irony or nuance. In fact, the most entertaining part of watching it today comes from laughing at its complete sincerity. It’s a film cowritten and starring a man who proudly voted for Ronald Reagan and who would only grow to become more publicly conservative as the years went on—“penning” (with liberal dashes of plagiarism) a syndicated column dedicated to his right-wing politics, along with a book entitled Black Belt Patriotism: How to Reawaken America, while also appearing in political ads for Republican presidential wannabe, Mike Huckabee. We can only imagine then how he reacted when he read screenwriter James Booth’s (a British character actor who would also go on to write the second American Ninja movie) script for the film’s sequel. In continuing the adventures of Matt Hunter, Booth did what a lot of screenwriters do—he looked at what happened in the first film and devised a scenario that reversed it. If in Invasion U.S.A. the villains were psychotic left-wing commie terrorists looking to cause chaos through fear and violence, then in Avenging Force they would be psychotic right-wing members of a secret society hell-bent on using their wealth and influence to mould the country into their survival-of-the-strongest racist worldview. Not only did Norris read a script that found the villains espousing a philosophy similar (if a lot more cartoonishly extreme) to his own, but it also demanded that at one point he actually say the line, “Because sometimes in politics…you have evil men who won’t stop at anything to get rich and gain power over other people.” It was as if Booth had taken Norris’ original concept and turned it into a photonegative of itself—turning the former film’s commie-panic into a liberal call to action against right-wing hegemony. So, the reality was that Norris was ALWAYS going to be too “busy” to make Avenging Force, no matter how long they waited for him. Rather than rewrite the script to better suit Norris’ personal beliefs, the decision was made to film it instead with American Ninja star Michael Dudikoff as Matt and Steve James as Larry, the doomed black liberal Louisiana senatorial candidate targeted by the right-wing extremists. Directorial duties were handed over to Sam Firstenberg, who had helmed American Ninja, along with the already mentioned Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo and Ninja III: The Domination, a film that bore zero connection to the two other Cannon Ninja films beyond the appearance of co-star Sho Kosugi. The 14-year age difference between Norris and Dudikoff would appear to have necessitated some minor script changes. I’m assuming that in the original script Matt is joined by his young daughter and father rather than the sister and grandfather that

Issue 14, March 2015

The 14-year age difference between Norris and Dudikoff would appear to have necessitated some minor script changes. I’m assuming that in the original script Matt is joined by his young daughter and father rather than the sister and grandfather that appear in the finished film. If I’m right about this, then it begs the obvious question: Why didn’t they just change Matt’s name at the same time and make it a wholly original film? Clearly the decision to not market it as a sequel was made after it was filmed. It’s easy to imagine that this was to placate Norris, who was not only working on the much more expensive The Delta Force, but who would also go on to make Braddock: Missing in Action III (which he also co-wrote) for Cannon a few years later. Whatever the reason for this, it’s status as a sequel would have likely gone unnoticed were it not for online genre fans noting the repeated use of the Matt Hunter name. But beyond its status as a cinematic curiosity, how is it as an actual film? Pretty cheesy, but in that classic Cannon ‘80s action way that has you rooting for it, rather than against it. It’s ultimately as silly and cartoonish as Invasion U.S.A. is, but the change in political direction gives it a novelty that other film lacks. Firstenberg does a good job with the film’s many action set pieces, but whiffs all the film’s emotional beats, which in the hands of a more talented filmmaker could have been seriously devastating. Dudikoff, a male model who made his way into acting through TV guest spots on shows like Happy Days, isn’t anyone’s idea of a great actor, but as Matt he brings a humanity to the character that Norris deliberately eschewed. This version of the character can actually be hurt and he only barely survives the Most Dangerous Game-style hunt he’s forced to endure in order to save his sister. One thing the two films do have in common is a stubborn refusal to pass the Bechdel Test. Invasion U.S.A.’s only woman character is a journalist who follows Norris around on his adventures, but he barely acknowledges her existence and she has zero impact on the plot, while in Avenging Force the two

One thing the two films do have in common is a stubborn refusal to pass the Bechdel Test. Invasion U.S.A.’s only woman character is a journalist who follows Norris around on his adventures, but he barely acknowledges her existence and she has zero impact on the plot, while in Avenging Force the two female characters (Larry’s wife and Matt’s sister) only exist as plot points to drive Matt on his mission of vengeance. On that score, both films fail pretty spectacularly. The film ends with Hunter warning the fifth and last surviving member of the “Pentangle” secret society that he has his eye on him, promising another sequel that never came. Avenging Force failed to make the same impact at the box office as Invasion had and Dudikoff and co. were tasked with more American Ninja movies instead. Never released on DVD, Avenging Force appeared on Blu-ray for the first time in 2014 and nowhere in the packaging is the film’s connection to Invasion U.S.A. ever mentioned. But it doesn’t matter, because it stands on its own, especially in its defiance of the prevailing political attitudes of the genre of the time—the rare action film from that period that owes more to Noam Chomsky than it does to Ayn Rand.

Issue 14, March 2015

Why Did No One Tell Me “Birdman” Is a Self-Righteous Polemic?

Written by Russ Dobler | Images courtesy of gossip-central.com and New Regency Pictures

When I first heard about Birdman, the directorial tour de force of criticallyacclaimed filmmaker Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu, I was excited. Admittedly, that was because I initially hoped it would be a big screen adaptation of the classic [adult swim] series, Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law, although I wondered how Stephen Colbert would find the time in his schedule to play the main character’s green-skinned courtroom nemesis, Reducto. But you know what? Michael Keaton as an aging actor, looking to recapture glory after burning out on the superhero role that made him famous? That sounds fun, too. I was again naïve, sadly, as “fun” would turn out to be the film’s main target. Make no mistake, Birdman: Or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) is a technical and storytelling masterpiece, with sly editing continually thrusting the audience forward into appreciating great acting performances from the accomplished cast. But that audience isn’t meant to be us. Birdman is a salve for the serious artists that are threatened by us. You wouldn’t have known that from how the film was promoted. Just six days before it hit theaters, the Birdman panel was one of the most popular attractions at October’s New York Comic Con. Trust me;

how the film was promoted. Just six days before it hit theaters, the Birdman panel was one of the most popular attractions at October’s New York Comic Con. Trust me; I waited in line for an hour and a half and was turned away before I could even see the door to the hall. Fortunately, Screen Rant was there to get the scoop. Much of Birdman’s plot was kept understandably hush-hush, but Michael Keaton and Ed Norton, who played the film’s antagonist – and, at one

time, the Incredible Hulk – couldn’t help but gush over the superhero genre in general. Keaton boasted of his pride in playing the first serious, silver screen Batman, and Norton recounted his childhood obsession with Frank Miller. This shows some serious geek cred that’s offset by director Iñárritu’s belief that superhero movies are tantamount to “cultural genocide.” Everyone knows he said that, right? In an interview with Deadline, dated just four

days after Birdman’s Comic Con panel, Iñárritu remarked: “I sometimes enjoy [superhero movies] because they are basic and simple and go well with popcorn. The problem is that sometimes they purport to be profound, based on some Greek mythological kind of thing … They have been poison, this cultural genocide, because the audience is so overexposed to plot and explosions and shit that doesn’t mean nothing about the experience of being human.” Perpetually oblivious, I wasn’t aware of the comment before I finally saw Birdman a month ago, swept as it was back into theaters after a Best Picture Academy Award victory that surprised many. Nevertheless, the theme was hard to miss.

Issue 14, March 2015

“And then we reveal the whole thing’s bullshit!” Photo from gossip-central.com

days after Birdman’s Comic Con panel, Iñárritu remarked:

“I sometimes enjoy [superhero movies] because they are basic and simple and go well with popcorn. The problem is that sometimes they purport to be profound, based on some Greek mythological kind of thing … They have been poison, this cultural genocide, because the audience is so overexposed to plot and explosions and shit that doesn’t mean nothing about the experience of being human.” 24 the

Perpetually oblivious, I wasn’t aware of comment before I finally

Perpetually oblivious, I wasn’t aware of the comment before I finally saw Birdman a month ago, swept as it was back into theaters after a Best Picture Academy Award victory that surprised many. Nevertheless, the theme was hard to miss. I wanted to believe the film delivered equal jabs to comic nerds and drama geeks. The petulant critic could easily represent the stodgy establishment, panning anything it doesn’t like before even a viewing. When Keaton’s and Norton’s characters engage in a silly slapfight, a nearby stagehand stands as a sensible observer, reminding us that those crazy acting types often tussle over nothing. But in the end, the specter of the Birdman character literally haunting the protagonist is too obvious a bludgeon to overlook, as it attempts to drag him back

But in the end, the specter of the Birdman character literally haunting the protagonist is too obvious a bludgeon to overlook, as it attempts to drag him back down to an artistic mire that would again give him recognition, at the cost of his soul. Keaton’s reconstructive surgery beak puts the finishing touches on evenhandedness, as it feels like an entreaty to actors to avoid superhero roles, because that’s clearly how they’ll always remember you, no matter what. We get it. Superman isn’t Citizen Kane. But it’s not Under Siege, either. Superhero movies have become the new action movies, and there will always be a place for those. After a steady diet of Schindler’s Lists, I’d bet even the most hardened cinephile would long for a Captain America. So when it’s time to take a breather, do you want a “smart blockbuster” like Winter

Issue 14, March 2015

hardened cinephile would long for a Captain America. So when it’s time to take a breather, do you want a “smart blockbuster” like Winter Soldier or… whatever the hell White House Down is? Take your pick. Ultimately it’s no mystery why Birdman won the Oscar for Best Picture. In the form of a well-constructed film, Iñárritu told the Academy what it already believed, that it’s time for these tights-wearing ninnies to go. Much of the

Awards telecast this year seemed like an anti-superhero PSA, although I have no idea how Jack Black thinks he has the right to talk. All this time, I never realized I was financing the enemy, just because I like seeing colorful characters with cool powers! I mean, superhero movies wouldn’t exist if people just stopped buying tickets to see them. Yes pulp readers, we’re all to blame for the homogenization and franchisery that plagues Hollywood and stifles the last vestiges of creativity. Soon we won’t even have quaint, heartfelt pictures winning Best Animated Feature, like Big Hero 6 did this year. (Don’t tell the Academy it’s a superhero property. Remember: ignorance is bliss.)

and stifles the last vestiges of creativity. Soon we won’t even have quaint, heartfelt pictures winning Best Animated Feature, like Big Hero 6 did this year. (Don’t tell the Academy it’s a superhero property. Remember: ignorance is bliss.)

Issue 14, March 2015

Is it possible to stay young forever?

Written by Kelsey Beier | Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Issue 14, March 2015

I never used to worry about getting old. All of the people that have ever surrounded me were just there. They were always present with their unique personalities, ideas, shape, and size, but age was never an issue. My newly heightened sensitivity and awareness of age has stemmed from having a front row seat to the declining health of the two closest eldest people in my life currently—my parents. My dad always says, “Don’t get old Kelsey, whatever you do.” I always admired my dad’s spirit and youthfulness. It was contagious and I knew this even from a young age. I can remember my parents frequently entertaining friends and family at our house, drinking, playing guitar, and dancing around the fire. As a child, I remember thinking: “My parents and their friends are so loud! How can they expect me to go to sleep when they’re yelling at each other from across the house? Why are they all so thirsty? I hope there’s still chocolate milk left for me in the morning.” Of course, this all makes sense to me now. As my childhood friends and I grow older, we’ve become the ones setting examples for young onlookers, the kids of the former kids. We are now the loud, gregarious, thirsty adults. It’s not the visual or aesthetic part of aging that worries me. I understand that getting wrinkles, grey hair, and sagging skin is a natural part of aging and I’m okay with that (or at least I hope to be when the time comes). The part I’m actually scared of is the thought of losing my youthful spirit and zest for life. The same way I saw both of my parents lose some of theirs. I’m a strong believer that sometimes naiveté is a virtue; that what we don’t know can’t hurt us (but not to be confused with ignorance). So, my question to you is how do we grow up innocently, naively, in a world that is constantly changing faster

know can’t hurt us (but not to be confused with ignorance). So, my question to you is how do we grow up innocently, naively, in a world that is constantly changing faster than we know, but without growing up ignorant? I can’t give you a definitive answer to this question, but I have a few personal tips or guidelines that I intend to follow along my path. After all, lists are so in right now.

6 Tips for Staying Young at Heart While Growing Old Number 1: Hang out with children. Kids will remind you about the important things in life, like how to play outside and use your imagination, how to get dirty, and how to ask questions in order to make sense of the world. (This will only remain true provided that we stop treating kids like little adults and giving them electronics to distract them from using their imaginations. Heaven forbid they should think independently!) Number 2: Connect with people. Real people. In real life. As much as I support technology, I also think we habitually take advantage of its accessibility, to our own detriment. I am guilty as charged for owning a smart phone and perusing on it a few times a day. I can also admit, however, that I am not connecting with my husband (who is most likely in the same room as me) while I peruse this surreal entity called the internet. Years from now, when we’re both too weak to move, we won’t really care about whose status says what. But we will care about each other’s real life thoughts and feelings. So, why can’t we care now? Number 3: Be active. I have never been more grateful for my health than I am now. I can walk, run, jump, and even get myself out of bed independently (this is

Number 3: Be active. I have never been more grateful for my health than I am now. I can walk, run, jump, and even get myself out of bed independently (this is saying a lot and could even be considered bragging in some circumstances). Be grateful for what your amazing body can do, including your mind. Any day that you’re feeling well in mind and body is a great day. Number 4: Enjoy. This is the hardest one. I have a tendency to feel guilty almost any time I’m doing something for myself and not providing a service to someone else. There are many things I enjoy: music, writing, reading, nature, playing sports, socializing, eating. I could continue, but I’m already feeling too guilty sharing all of my personal pleasures with people who may care less. What I have discovered recently is that there will never be a good time or a “right” time to do anything. Therefore, you have my permission to be selfish when choosing to do what you enjoy, whenever you choose to enjoy it. You’re welcome. Number 5: Don’t get old. Easier said than done. Actually, this is the hardest one. Don’t let the small things in life take over. Don’t worry about what other people think. Listen to your parents. Listen to your grandparents. Appreciate your friends and family who appreciate you back. Repeat steps one to five. (Oh, and one last thing for good measure.) Number 6: Continue to entertain friends and family with children present. Show them what it means to interact with people in a genuine setting. Show them what it means to laugh, be loud, tell stories, argue, and sing songs. Show them how it isn’t age that determines your youth, but your spirit and zest for life.

Issue 14, March 2015

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