Showing posts with label Grant Morrison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grant Morrison. Show all posts

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Chronic Review: Grant Morrison - Talking With Gods!




















Grant Morrison: Talking With Gods
Respect Films/Sequart

Director: Patrick Meaney
Run Time: 80 Minutes

Without running into too many cliches about "groundbreaking" this or "enigmatic" that...this the comic creator you really want to know about, isn't it? Sure we have characters breeding in this funny little medium of ours. Alan Moore, check. Warren Ellis, check. But c'mon. This is the cat who claims he went to India and had aliens take him to Alpha Centauri - is that for real, or a calculated act, or is this guy really shit nuts?

Talking With Gods is satisfying because it embraces all of Grant Morrison, and leaves you feeling that you can wrap your brain around him, if not embrace him. I think that people are curious about his work and his writing process, and the film broaches these subjects. I think people are far more urgently concerned with the man himself; his public persona, the drugs, the magic, the eccentricities.

Obviously it isn't possible to crib anybody down to an 80 minute chunk of video, and surely not someone as complex as Grant Morrison. The strength of this picture is that it respectfully takes on the most controversial Morrisonian matters in a way that cultivates understanding instead of titillating spectacle. If you watch this movie and pay attention, Grant Morrison will make perfect sense to you. And that is high magic indeed!

Another impressive aspect of the film is the depth and breadth of industry talent involved. This isn't just Sequart's Tim Callahan waxing philosophical, although might have been enough. We get to hear a variety of opinions from the insiders involved including Karen Berger, Dez Skinn, Frank Quitely, Warren Ellis, Mark Waid, Rich Johnston, Matt Fraction, and the list goes on forever. While the filmmakers clearly didn't seek out a lot of anti-Morrison vitriol, there may not be much of that to be had. While he might be a polarizing figure amongst fans, most industry professionals respect him and his work. But the closest you'll find to a real detractor in the movie is Alan Moore, who as the story goes shut down a Kid Marvelman story Morrison scripted and then wrote a threatening letter to Grant when he asked permission to pick up Marvelman where Moore left off. But really, who does Alan Moore get along with?

The film covers Grant's early childhood, including a nuclear activist father, a tea-leaf reading mother, and Uncle Billy who introduced him to comic books and Aleister Crowley. You'll learn about his band, his humble beginnings as a file clerk, and his rise to comic super-stardom. And yes, you'll get to hear all about his evolving thoughts on magic, the "aliens/demons", and how it all comes to down to a deep sense of pragmatism.

The trap you fall into with Grant Morrison is to mythologize him, and it's reasonable to fall into that trap since he purposefully set it - but he will also calmly grin and admit it. Talking With Gods does an outstanding job of humanizing the myth. It isn't just the stories that fascinated me, it was watching the "comics rock star" giggle and fidget in his chair like a regular bloke with Frank Quitely, the goofy photos with his wife Kristan, and his yearning to connect with a young writer and impart useful advice. (Don't be afraid to screw up, he says, your mistakes will often show you something even better than what you originally planned)

Morrison says "You'll never get it, you'll never know, and whatever you think I am, that's what I'm not." But he doesn't say that from above you with arrogance. He says it with a sheepish grin, with the same sense of play that Lao Tzu used to write similar sentiments with. Grant Morrison has had the same issues with confidence as you, the same bouts of depression, the same difficulties with the opposite sex. The only difference is that when he had those troubles, he entreated Aphrodite to send him the person he needed. And then his wife to be called him up three days later seeking comfort from her break-up.

I think the film also helps a reader understand Morrison's work. It doesn't parse specific lines of text, and probably would have suffered for the effort if it had tried. What Talking With Gods will do is introduce you to his relationship with The Bomb, and with magic, with other people, and with comics.

What's interesting about Morrison is that while most people begrudgingly accept that superheroes rule comics, he embraces the concept fully, and with pride. First he found comfort in them as an escape from the harsher cruelties of life, and ultimately perceives superheroes as a solution to those cruelties.

"The bomb, before it was a bomb, the bomb was an idea. And suddenly the understanding of oh, OK, Superman's an even better idea, so why don't we make that one real instead of that one." While most creators post-Moore have followed his lead in bringing superheroes into the muck with our reality, Morrison has forged a career on using these symbols as hyper-sigils to raise our muck into their light. That seems infinitely more edifying, actually.

Crazy? Maybe. But before the bomb was a bomb, it was an idea. Why couldn't we use those superheroic ideals to show a better way, perhaps to inspire it. Why not explore a better idea than pain and entropy? Go back and read Batman RIP, Final Crisis, or the latest Batman & Robin stuff. Go back without getting hung up on all the details and pay attention to what it says and how it makes you feel at the end. Superman will not let us down. Batman will find a way. Hope is not lost.

Those are not the sentiments of a drug-crazed nutter. Or maybe they are. If they are, we need a lot more drug crazed nutters.

Is he hard to understand through that thick Scottish accent? Mmmmm, sure. A little. That's what the subtitles are for! It's worth the effort to acclimate, Talking With Gods is an excellent profile of Grant Morrison the character and a brilliant revealing of the man who created it. Thoroughly enjoyed this film, and very much looking forward to the Warren Ellis treatment to follow.

- Ryan

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Chronic Review: Batman & Robin # 10


Batman & Robin # 10
DC Comics

Script: Grant Morrison
Pencils: Andy Clarke
22 pages for $2.99

I was mildly interested in this as the beginning of the "return of Bruce Wayne", and extraordinarily interested in this because it was billed as "Batman Vs. Damian." So what's the verdict?

Before I get to that, I have a confession to make. I like Damian. I like the idea of a really disturbed 10 year-old who's smarter than you are and entirely too lethal. It feels like kind of a stretch, but sometimes circumstances do create pre-teens who act as though they're 35 years old.

I watch cameras for a living, and occasionally I'll see somebody Damian's age, no adult present at all. I once watched a girl who couldn't have been more than 10 years old do her own school shopping, taking time with her selections, presenting coupons at the register. It was bizarre. The entire vibe and attitude was adult, and it was completely fascinating. Dakota Fanning always came off like that, as well. That's Damian, only with a giant dollop of evil. Maybe.

Most of the book feels like a haunted house mystery, with Dick, Alfred, and Damian trying to piece together what happened to Bruce and how to get him back. There are paintings in Wayne Manor that make it look as though Bruce Wayne has been travelling in time, working his way toward the present. Either that or there's an incredible amount of inbreeding going on, because the faces look awfully similar.

As the dynamic duo look at the paintings and look for clues or messages from the past that Bruce may have left behind from them, Damian begins to question his role should Bruce return.


This is where the juice is for me. Because for all his bluster, (and there's a gale force amount of bluster) Damian rarely does cross lines that Bruce would not. His connection to his father is extremely important to him, and it makes him complex.

As for the great "battle" between Batman and Robin, if you looked at the cover of the comic, you saw everything there was to see. And I felt quite cheated by that. What's interesting about the near-fight scene is that when Damian picks up that sword it's clear that he's suffering from some kind of programming from Talia, and not exercising free will.

I've liked everything that Morrison has done with Batman, and this is no exception. There's always this sense that all of this is an incredibly complex tapestry that he's been weaving from the beginning. There's even a "Batman and Robin will never die" reference (the very image that kicked off RIP) to remind you - I know where we've been, it's all connected, and you aint seen nothin' yet!

Morrison is now taking us down what I would think is the last chapter of his master plan, and I'm curious about where he might be headed. A secret Batcave with occult paraphernalia strewn about? An 18th century Thomas Wayne summoned an ancient bat demon? This is way more interesting than a guy with gadgets beating up drug dealers and sending costumed thugs to Arkham.

I don't think that I'll continue reading the floppies, but I'm quite convinced that I'm going to own everything Morrison wrote on Batman in trade form. If you like the character, there's no reason to be missing this book.

- Ryan


Friday, February 19, 2010

Chronic Review: Joe the Barbarian # 2


Joe the Barbarian # 2
DC Comics - Vertigo

Script: Grant Morrison

Pencils: Sean Murphy


Once upon a time Sam Raimi used to direct really quirky, fantastic horror films starring the quirky, fantastic Bruce Campbell. And then Mr. Raimi got offered a dream job: Spider-Man. Big budgets, big stars, glory, fame, and all of that rot. He would have been a fool to turn that down, and of course he did not. We can debate how successful those films were artistically, (I say Spider-Man 2 is one of the best films, not just comic book films, but best films I've ever seen) but economically and professionally, Raimi undeniably found himself in a whole new stratosphere.

And somewhere beneath that glitz and interference and strife and pressure, there still yet lay the heart of a quirky horror director. And after Spider-Man 3, Raimi said "You know what? Fuck it. I'm making a movie for ME, just because I can. No mega stars, no mega budget, just me and a camera doing what I WANT for a change." And so was born the creature known as "Drag me to Hell."

Some of you are now wondering what the hell this has to do with Joe the Barbarian. Well, only everything. Grant Morrison is an artist born who has excelled at telling quirky meta-textual tales starring D-List characters. For whatever reason, Morrison has spent the past couple of years taking on some prime time territory with the Batman book, and then went blockbuster mega-event with Final Crisis.

And we can debate the artistic merits of those books, but there is no denying that Morrison was tackling the biggest properties DC had to offer, on the biggest stage they could provide. That's a lot of pressure, and there was a lot of editorial nonsense and interference to navigate there.

And I don't have any great insight into the mind of Grant Morrison. But I think it's reasonable to suggest that maybe after stretching into that stratosphere, Morrison thought to himself: "Fuck it. I'm going to write some comics for ME, just because I can."

And that's why Joe the Barbarian comes as no surprise to me. It's a quirky, world-bending, "what's reality and what's fantasy and where does one end and the other begin?" kind of tale, using unknown characters outside of regular DC continuity. I see this as a "comfort" book for Morrison, a chance to curl up with everything he loves again with no pressure to push the DC Universe forward or challenge Marvel's market dominance.


Near as I can tell, the situation is thus: Joe is a young boy with diabetes, and he's having some blood sugar problems. His symptoms are presenting unusually though; he keeps zipping in and out of a fantasy world, albeit one that incorporates pieces of the "real" world.

His ordinary mouse Jack becomes a reluctant guide and fierce warrior named Chakk in the hypo-glycemic world. Action figures on the floor become defeated warriors, defeated by some nameless threat that reminds one probably too much of the "Nothing" from Neverending Story as you read it. One of them also reminds one of King Mob, which is to say Grant Morrison. And that sounds familiar, too.

There's some frivolity and action, again all too familiar. In fact, Morrison seems to poke fun at his own use of cliche in a speech by Lord Arc:



It's as if Morrison recognizes that much of this story is simply going through some well-tread motions, and he finds it too amusing to stop himself, but would rather point the finger at himself and laugh.

There are some enjoyable moments to be had, including this bit with the gun given to Joe by the King Mob/Morrison analog:


If I'm right about the connection, this is tantamount to Morrison making fun of the tools he's given his own poor creation to work with. And that sounds like a Morrison joke to me. Kinda fun, but ultimately who is this book for- the reader or the author?

I suppose that if you've never experienced anything self-referential, never read a Morrison comic, or god forbid never watched the Neverending Story (shame on you if that's the case) this will all read as fresh and fun, albeit slightly confusing. But since I have experienced all those things, this reads as Grant Morrison's post-Crisis therapy writing, and I'm not sure I want to spend good money on that. I'll wait for the next train and see what pops out of his brain when his mental palate is clear again!

- Ryan