Book Review: Supergods - Our World In The Age Of The Superhero by Grant Morrison

Over the 30+ years I've been reading comics, Grant Morrison has written some of my all-time favourites. Animal Man, Doom Patrol, The Invisibles, Arkham Asylum, All Star Superman... books I'd hold up among the best the medium has to offer. He's also written a fair few books I just didn't get, a smattering that disappeared (albeit with sporadic enjoyment) up their own backsides, and some that left me completely cold. Nothing I absolutely hated though, and I've long found the "Grant Morrison" persona to be among the most fascinating and insane of comic book creator caricatures. Where "Stan Lee" is your favourite uncle as a carnival barker and "Alan Moore" is the grumpy (and slightly pervy) old wizard you don't want to get on the wrong side of, "Grant Morrison" is the rock star cum Cuckoo's Nest escapee who's done a few too many mind-altering substances to the point where he actually believes he might be a superhero. A superhero with the power of writing. Isn't that the power we all dreamed of?

Supergods is, ostensibly, Morrison's history of the superhero comic. Unlike many such books, it's highly subjective... and because Morrison's comic book tastes often differ wildly from my own, I often found myself taking his facts-as-opinions with a pinch of salt, or else flat-out disagreeing. There's a strong DC-bias to his writing, partly because these were largely the comics he grew up on, partly because he's had some negative experiences with Marvel management over the years, and partly because DC are currently paying his bills. Plus, he's got more time for the cosmic madness Jack Kirby brought to comics in the 60s than the everyman quality that made me a lifelong True Believer of Stan Lee...

"And yet there was something I didn't like about the Marvel superheroes. Those characters seemed constantly angry and weird, and I found stories of conflict between heroes exhausting. Spider-Man's stressy life was a bit too grown-up, it seemed."

Yet despite our many differences, we both love comics and believe wholeheartedly in the transformative potential of the medium. Once I accepted Morrison's subjective opinions, there was much to enjoy in this larger than life tome. There's a wonderful mix of creative, character and industry back-story alongside personal anecdote, and it's good that Morrison doesn't tread the same old ground as previous historians. He's attempting to build a sociological history of the medium which is sometimes incisive and occasionally insane, but never less than entertaining. Those unfamiliar with the writer's unique world view might not be prepared for his psychedelic 90s adventures in which he creates a comic as a magic spell with the express intention of living a superhero lifestyle... only to go off the deep end when his face is attacked by flesh-eating bacteria and he finds himself face-to-face with 4th dimensional aliens who reveal to him the ancient secrets of our universe. At this point the narrative becomes more "fictional" autobiography than historical tract but as the rest of the comics industry went through its artistic nadir in the 90s, it's a welcome distraction. I still remember an interview with Morrison at the time, when it was suggested that perhaps his other-dimensional experiences might be nothing more than the result of all the mind-altering substances he was taking at that time. "I can see why you might think that," went his reply (paraphrased from memory), "but you'd be seriously mistaken."

There's much to relish here: from the writer's iconoclastic needling of Alan Moore to barbed comments about his estranged pal, Mark Millar. And despite all the Comic Book Books I've read before, I still learnt a few new things (Namor is Roman backwards!) That Supergods becomes less about the medium and more about the messenger is perhaps inevitable. In his own way, Grant Morrison is as unbelievably larger-than-life as Superman, Batman, The X-Men or any of the iconic characters he's tackled over the years. As long as nobody takes his opinionated ramblings as gospel, it's all good... but hopefully, the 4th Dimensional aliens should make sure of this.

Redundant

After 23 years working for the same company, 15 of them on staff as a copywriter, I have been made redundant. I won't bore you with the whys and wherefores, the ins and outs, the tears and souvenirs of it all. It's not in my interest to talk about it and I doubt it'd be of interest to you. The fact is, I'm redundant...

Or am I?

It's a weird word, redundant. What does it really mean... and does it really mean me?

Let's ask the dictionary for a few definitions...

1. surplus to requirements; unnecessary or superfluous

Am I surplus to requirements? My former employers obviously think so. Others might (and hopefully will) disagree. I can't see anything wrong in being superfluous - you're one half super, to start with it. I'd always rather be 50% super than 60% shite.

2. verbose or tautological

I'll happily admit to the former - if you've ever read this blog, I can't really deny it. As to the latter, the secondary point, the issue of tautology described within... never.

3. deprived of one's job because it is no longer necessary for efficient operation: he has been made redundant

That would seem apparent.

4. being in excess; exceeding what is usual or natural: a redundant part.

You mean... like a mutant? Cool!

(Oh, stop being such a whinger, Cyclops. So you lost your job - big deal! Man up!)

5. characterized by verbosity or unnecessary repetition in expressing ideas; prolix: a redundant style.

Didn't we cover this already?

6. having some unusual or extra part or feature.

You mean, like six fingers or a vestigial tail? Again: cool. Can I have angel wings too?

But wait, let's look at the Latin derivation...

7. from Latin redundans - overflowing, from redundāre - to run back, stream over

Right at this moment, of all the definitions on offer, this is the one which feels most appropriate. Overflowing, streaming over... unable to contain my joy.

Yes, joy.

The truth is, I'm looking on this as, potentially, one of the most exciting things that's ever happened to me. The possibilities are endless, and I fully intend to seize every one of them by the throat or the balls or any other soft and vulnerable part within easy reach. The future's so bright...

...you know the rest.



(Only the 80s could give us a video like that. I do feel bad for the donkey though.)

X-Men: First Class

While not as great a success as the second X-movie (yet far more satisfying than the third), the long-awaited X-Men prequel provides enough sturm und drang to keep fanboys hungry. The casting - and recasting - works wells. Michael Fassbender's Magneto could easily develop into Ian McKellan's calculating antihero (plus "he's a hottie", says Louise) while James McAvoy shows flashes of the intensity Patrick Stewart brought to Professor X, if slightly less wisdom. Kevin Bacon slices the ham as oily villain Sebastian Shaw and January Jones reprises her Mad Men role - down to the 60s fashions (albeit somewhat racier) as the ice cold Emma Frost. Winter's Bone Oscar-nominee Jennifer Lawrence is excellent as Little Miss Mystique, bringing a vulnerability to her character that reminded me of Anna Paquin's Rogue. Nicholas Holt, meanwhile, is Nicolas Holt. As Beasts go, I'd still rather have Frasier.

There are some surprising cameos from Michael Ironside, Ray Wise and Oliver Platt - surprising in how little they're used. Given actors of this calibre, you'd expect to allow them a little more scenery to chew. I'd rather have watched them than the bland young non-entities drafted in to play Havok, Banshee and Angel - though to be fair, none of these characters is given a whole lot in the way of development. As in previous X-films, you get the feeling they're only there to sell toys. (And don't even start me on Sebastian Shaw's henchmen - an unrecognisable Jason Flemyng as Nightcrawler's dad and another character so obscure I didn't even know who he was after I'd looked him up on wikipedia.) Still, at least we avoided any casting calamities of the Vinnie Jones / Juggernaut variety. Oh, and expect some kind of backlash over the fact that of the two black mutants featured, one dies a horrible death while the other turns traitor.

The story rambles in set-up - intriguing for X-fans, but I wonder how it'll play to less devoted audiences? The set pieces, when they do arrive, are worth the wait, particularly the Cuban Missile Crisis climax. (Best of all - it's not in 3D!) The 60s setting made the film for me, particularly Bacon's classic Bond villain / Dr. Evil turn, complete with lavishly decorated submarine. But again, I did wonder how well these stylings would go down with younger audiences.

There is, however, one moment that makes the whole film worthwhile. It's about 10 seconds in duration, occurs approximately halfway through, and came as a complete surprise. No spoilers, but I'm still cheering 24 hours later.

It's X-Men First Class week over at thoughtballoons this week. My script goes live tomorrow, but pop over now to see what kind of 60s spin the other guys are putting on our merry mutants.

Thoughtballoons - Jubilee

After many years of getting very annoyed with Chris Claremont's increasing need to overwrite every single word balloon, I finally gave up reading Uncanny X-Men in the late 80s (around the time scratchy old Mark Silvestri took over on art). I didn't pick the book up again until Grant Morrison jumped on board, and by then it was another century. As a result, I know very little about this week's Thoughtballoons character, Jubilee. As I understand it, she was created by Claremont and Jim Lee as a kind of mallrat Robin to Wolverine's Batman and she had some kind of exploding firework powers which she's subsequently lost but will probably end up getting back once she's finished being a vampire or whatever.

You can tell I don't really care, can't you?

Still, that didn't stop me writing my own 2 panel Jubilee script... my first Thoughtballoons What If? Well, I like it even if nobody else does...