Saturday, August 25, 2012

The (Comic) Book Was Better - DC: The New Frontier


 
Since the maiden voyage of the good ship The (Comic) Book was Better didn’t completely capsize and sink, it’s time to set sail yet again, this time with the epic tale of epicness known as The New Frontier.  The comic was written and drawn by Darwyn Cooke and published in 2004; the cartoon came out in 2008.  The comic is so epic that it needed two full-length TPBs to contain the awesome (though it is all available in one volume now, from what I understand), so of course, the cartoon version had to cut quite a bit.  The question is: did it cut the right things?  And was it able to tell a compelling story with what it did use?

For all intents and purposes, both comic and cartoon tell the same story: in the 1950s (the genesis of the Silver Age), a mysterious ancient entity known as the Centre is causing mass panic among the world population as a prelude to killing off the human race.  It is, of course, up to Earth’s heroes, human and otherwise, to stop the Centre before it destroys humankind.  The major difference lies in each medium’s approach to the subject matter, which we’ll get to in a bit.  First, the comic book version.

This is beyond all doubt one of my most favoritest graphic novels ever.  How awesome is it?  This is the conclusion to the first story in the first chapter.

 
Which brings me to my first point.  This is an extremely emotional book.  Every character, even a lot of the minor ones (Mr. Grenades McAwesomeshorts is a prime example), is so interesting and has such interesting things to do that you feel for and root for them all.  This fact is mercilessly exploited by the writer, who crams in as many tearjerker moments as he can without turning the whole book into a sob fest.  The John Henry subplot in particular, about a man seeking vengeance against the Ku Klux Klan for the murder of his family, is arguably the worst of the bunch; it’s absolutely, horrifyingly heartrending from start to finish.  It’s sadder than Big Bird singing at Jim Henson’s funeral sad.  No, wait, it’s Big Bird sad, mixed with a hearty dose of General Armistead’s death from Gettysburg sad and a heaping helping of the These Are the Days of Our Lives sad for good measure.  You’re gonna need a whole lot of tissues, is what I’m saying.

 
…Let’s just say this ends horribly and move on before I run out of Kleenex.

The characters that seem to get the most attention are Hal Jordan/Green Lantern, J’onn J’onzz/Martian Manhunter, and (towards the end, anyway) Barry Allen/Flash.  Other characters like Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman get a respectable amount of attention and development, but honestly, it seems more like an ensemble than anything else.  And that’s a big part of the reason why I love these books so much, as well as why I’m not spending too much time complaining about why Rex Tyler/Hourman is presumed dead, revealed to be alive, and then forgotten altogether.  The individual characters were never the point.  The story isn’t about one character so much as it’s about trying to compromise and overcome challenges and emerging from a paranoid, often frightening time in the United States.  Some make it.  Some don’t.  Some come out of the experience as a better person.  Some don’t.  The interesting part is seeing how the characters respond to the situations they’re placed in.

That being said, there are a couple of nitpicky things I do have to bring up.  First, for all its talk of equality and fairness and cooperation, there are no non-white people in crowd scenes outside of the epilogue.  Really, guys?  This is the late ‘50s.  I’m pretty sure you could find the occasional black person in giant cities like Metropolis and/or the recently desegregated U.S. Armed Forces if you tried a little harder.  I guess this could have been an intentional callback to actual ‘50s comics where everybody was always white, but this comic is considerably more conscious of evolving social problems and race relations during this period of American history and is doing its best to portray that honestly without being heavy-handed.  So if the “white people as far as the eye can see” approach was intentional, it wasn’t the most intelligent of moves.

Second, there’s Hal Jordan.  Now for the most part, I like Hal’s portrayal in this.  He’s a steadfast pacifist until he is forced to kill a North Korean soldier, which causes a severe crisis of conscience and several years’ worth of insecurities and soul-searching before he finally makes peace with the fact that he would kill to survive.  It’s one of the more prominent story arcs, and it’s definitely a good one.  On the other hand, Hal is mildly racist and sexist, and I thought I was prepared to accept that and move on (again, ‘50s), but then he has to go and kick it up a notch when talking with his girlfriend, Carol Ferris:

 
Some context: Hal inadvertently destroyed some very expensive equipment owned by the company Carol runs and then vanished for thirty-six hours without even trying to explain things.  Which is moderately understandable, since all that was the result of Abin Sur seeking him out and giving him the Green Lantern ring, and Hal didn’t want to tell anyone about it until he was sure he wasn’t going crazy like he did when he killed that Korean dude.  Since Carol doesn’t know any of this, she assumes that Hal was just being a feckless jerk (not an odd assumption to make, given his behavior in the rest of the story), and she is therefore justifiably angry at and concerned for him.  And how does Hal respond to this?  By calling her a bitch.  Brilliant!

Look, maybe this is just some more casual sexism (y’know, like a roundabout way of saying “This is man’s business, woman, so stay out of it!”) and would have been perfectly acceptable behavior sixty years ago, but this scene really, really rubs me the wrong way.  It prevents me from fully liking and respecting Hal and Carol the way I did prior to this moment, especially since Hal never even pretends to feel bad about it and Carol treats it like it’s no big deal, giving Hal a big kiss just two pages later.  It just seems so pointless—even if it would have been acceptable back then, was there really any need to cart out the obscenities in this case?  Especially since Carol has no clue what is really going on and is just expressing worry for her boyfriend?  I mean, she does call Hal a “son of a bitch” on the previous page, but she doesn’t have a full understanding of the situation and is probably much more justified in cussing out her boyfriend than vice versa, since Hal should have some measure of empathy and understand that he’s the one who left Carol in the dark and that that’s why she’s so clueless and angry.  So… conflicted… rrrrgh…

Those are my biggest complaints, since they do the most to undermine the story’s main goals—namely, show how the characters deal with the social, political, and supervillainy situations of the day and make those characters sympathetic (even the prickish ones).  I do have a couple of more nitpicky complaints, like the fact that it can get a bit exposition-y in spots.  And I guess you could argue that it’s a little too sprawling, that the author was trying to do and say too much in one miniseries. (It’d be relatively easy to argue that John Henry’s subplot, as moving as it is, isn’t all that necessary and could have been removed in favor of, say, actually mentioning Rick and Karin’s relationship before the last second.)  Still, for all its (minor) faults, DC: The New Frontier is an intensely enjoyable story.  I’ve read it multiple times and really can’t see myself getting tired of it any time soon.  It’s epic, emotional, and oh-so-fifties, with bits of casual sexism, racism, xenophobia and homophobia for added authenticity.  Or at least, it seems authentic to someone who wasn’t alive in the 1950s.

New Frontier is also responsible for one of my favorite comic book quotes ever: “It’s the kind of moment you dream about.  A moment so perfect, it makes you want to cry.  Because you know that whatever comes our way…”

 
 It’s a lot more epic in context.  So go read it.  But first, let’s talk about the movie.

The film has Justice League in its name instead of DC, which is appropriate since the cartoon spends a lot more time on League characters as opposed to DC as a whole.  While it retains the same basic plot as the graphic novel, the movie’s main objective seems to be to explain how the Silver Age Justice League met, learned to work together, and ultimately became the world’s greatest superheroes.  In other words, it’s not social commentary but an origin story, and a darn good one to boot.

The voice cast is chockfull of all-stars, including Keith David as the Centre, Lucy Lawless as Wonder Woman, and Neil Patrick Harris as the Flash.  That being said, some of the performances seem a little lacking in emotion in spots (Hal is being voiced by Keanu Reeves, right?), but I guess with superheroes it’s difficult to be suitably stoic while still being human.  That’s not really much of an excuse, though, given the innumerable superhero cartoons that voice director Andrea Romano has successfully cast before.  Also, I’m not especially fond of Batman’s voice—there’s nothing inherently wrong with it, and actually, it’s one of the more emotive performances in the film—it’s just not Kevin Conroy.  Or Diedrich Bader.  Or that guy from Young Justice.  Still, Ms. Romano deserves our props anyway, just on the basis of this scene alone:

 
According to the DVD commentary, in order to get authentic dialogue for the Vietnamese women in this scene, Romano went to her (apparently Vietnamese) manicurist with a tape recorder and a few lines of dialogue for her to translate.  That kind of dedication and attention to detail is reflective of the movie as a whole, especially when it comes to this GORGEOUS animation.  Like they said in the commentary, it stays as far away from "Saturday morning cartoon" as it possibly can, and the result is beautiful to behold.

Speaking of art style, it is very close to the original to the point where they can and do lift entire panels from the comic without it looking weird.  I count this as a good thing.  However, the cartoon can get surprisingly graphic in spots, so if you’re squeamish about Martians tearing dinosaurs in half and being drenched in their blood, you might want to skip this interpretation (and scroll down really fast!).

 
Note to self: do not annoy a Martian.  Actually, annoying green men in general should probably be avoided.

Like with the comic, most of my complaints are small and superficial and don’t stop me from enjoying the final product.  For instance, Aquaman’s rescue of Superman at the end kind of comes out looking like a deus ex machina, as does Ray Palmer's appearance in Florida.  (This was solved by foreshadowing and cameos in the comic book.) And Lois Lane is considerably closer to being generic in this version, which makes me mad.  Like in this scene, which appears in both versions—Lois has commandeered a helicopter to take her closer to the Centre so she can report on it live.  Eventually, the pilot loses his nerve and turns back.  Here’s Lois’s reaction in the comic…

 
…and here’s her reaction in the film.

Lois: "We've been ordered back."
For crying out loud, be… be Lois!  Also, there’s one point where Wonder Woman wishes the others “Godspeed.”  Why would Wonder Woman say “Godspeed,” exactly?  She’s an Amazon.  She reveres the Greek gods, not the Christian one.  But I’m starting to nitpick again.  Moving on.

Looking at the two side by side, there’s little doubt that the comic is superior, despite how closely the cartoon follows in its footsteps.  The fact that the comic places greater emphasis on larger issues while the cartoon places its emphasis on being an origin story all but guarantees that the former will have more emotional depth, but that absolutely under no circumstances means that the cartoon isn’t moving.  In its own way, it is; it just decided to tell the same story from a slightly less broad perspective and, for what it is, the film is really done well.  It’s also done short.  I really don’t get why DC insists on making their animated films so short.  While New Frontier is almost twenty minutes longer than Public Enemies, I still feel like so much more could have been done with this if it were only a full-length film or a miniseries. 

If you read the comic before seeing the film, there’s about a million Easter eggs and cameos to be found when you get around to the cartoon, mostly in the form of brief shout-outs to scenes that they had to cut.  Also, I’m all for showing instead of telling, but in order for that to work, everything needs to be planned and executed perfectly.

 
See, Hal is supposed to be depressed because he lost his chance to be an astronaut.  But here, it just looks like he’s taking a nap in a weird place.  Either better drawing or a little voiceover could remedy that, but we get neither.

On the other side of the coin, if you see the film before seeing the comic (like I did), it’s a lot harder to notice how abbreviated the cartoon really is.  You’ve got nothing to compare it to.  And that may be why I’m able to give the movie such high ratings with so few complaints.  Still, I really think that if you’re able to look at the cartoon as an entity/origin story unto itself, you shouldn’t have any trouble liking it.

Unlike Public Enemies, Justice League: The New Frontier stands perfectly well on its own, no prior knowledge of the characters or storyline necessary.  The comic book is certainly a lot more complex and is therefore a lot more powerful, but the cartoon is as faithful as it probably could be and, as such, retains a good deal of what made the original so great.  They’re both big, they’re both full of badass people doing badass things, and they’re both well worth a look.

 
#&!$ yeah.

Next Time: ¡No contaban con las poderes de observación de Gonzo! (Darnit, I translated that wrong, didn’t I?  Nut bunnies.  Back to the ol’ Rosetta Stone...)

Images from DC: The New Frontier and Justice League: The New Frontier

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