Monthly Archives: July 2020

The Curator of Schlock #326: Underwater

10 Friday Jul 2020

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The Curator of Schlock #326 by Jeff Shuster

Underwater

It’s like The Little Mermaid only totally different. 

I like to think I’m not a difficult house guest, but Grantchester is back on Masterpiece Mystery and I will not miss a single episode for anything! Unfortunately, we had quite a storm this past Sunday and I had to send my manservant Jervis out into the thick of it. I asked him to keep the satellite dish steady so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting those nasty digitized bits while I find out if the dashing Will Davenport can repair his strained relationship with his mother. Jervis got a bit drenched and seemed to be working through a fever while cooking my eggs the next morning. He made them over easy instead of sunny side up, but I didn’t say anything because I’m a good guest.

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Tonight’s movie is 2020’s Underwater from director William Eubank. We get flashes of news headlines in the beginning stating something about a drilling station deep at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Kristen Stewart plays Norah Price, a plucky and nihilistic engineer/computer wiz. You remember Kristen Stewart. She played Bella Swan in those Twilight movies. I’m a bit of a Twihard myself. Team Jacob for the win! Am I right? So Norah is busy brushing her teeth when the underwater bunker begins to shake and the computer is rambling about structural integrity or something to that effect. She runs into another employee of the drilling company, a young man named Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) before the two of them decide to seal their part of the station off before their section gets flooded..They watch in horror as other crew members run for their lives only to get obliterated because they couldn’t reach safety in time.

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The two of them run into other survivors as they climb through the rubble of the station. These include Paul (T.J, Miller), a funny crew member that won’t be the first to die, Lucien (Vincent Cassel), the French captain of the station, Liam (John Gallagher Jr.), a manly engineer, and Emily (Jessica Henwick), the station’s biologist that loves corgis.

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They need to get out of the collapsing part of the station and don’t ask me to repeat all of the scientific doublespeak spewing from their mouths. The gist is they have to put on these heavy and dangerous high-tech scuba suits that allow them to walk on the surface of the ocean.

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A crack forms in Rodrigo’s helmet once underwater and he can’t handle the pressure. I’m not talking about psychological pressure, but the physical pressure of having no protection from the water at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. The rest of the crew move on and gradually learn the cause of the station collapsing. There be monsters swimming around under the sea, squid-like creatures that most likely came through the surface when the drilling crew drilled vin the wrong spot. It’s basically Alien underwater, but it’s better than Deep Star Six. There are worse ways to spend 95 minutes.

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Photo by Leslie Salas

Jeff Shuster (episode 47, episode 102, episode 124, episode 131, and episode 284) is an MFA graduate from the University of Central Florida.

Comics Are Trying to Break Your Heart #78: Looking Inward

08 Wednesday Jul 2020

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Comics Are Trying to Break Your Heart #78 by Drew Barth

Looking Inward

There is absolute precision in Gabriella Giandelli’s lines. When we look at a work like Interiorae, we find the best of Giandelli’s aesthetic: panel by panel of precise lines and a focus on compassion unlike anything else in comics.

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Interiorae is about a single block of apartments. Inside this building is an old woman and her friend, Irina; various children and teenagers; a couple on the precipice of marital collapse; a voyeuristic businessman who watches people through binoculars; a family who had died in the 70s and never moved on; a humanoid rabbit who observes all of these people; and the Great Dark One who lives in the basement and feeds on the inhabitants dreams. There are stories woven throughout the apartments: from the unnamed businessman’s various affairs to Irina aiding an old woman’s dying mind to siblings arguing in the way siblings argue. What Giandelli provides for us is a snapshot of realism seamlessly combined with the fabulist—the rabbit who jumps through walls and windows to feed the Great Dark One more dreams every night.

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The quiet nature of Giandelli’s story and her almost journalistic eye makes Interiorae so unique. There is no judgment of these characters. In many ways, Giandelli’s panels become the windows in this block of apartments and we simply float past to see the stories happening within. At no point do we feel the same sense of voyeurism as the unnamed businessman and his binoculars. This is a testament to the compassion in Giandelli’s line and characters—a fly on the wall is a pest, but a rabbit sitting on the windowsill is just another part of the scenery of our lives. Her understanding of the inexplicable in humanity, the weird messiness that permeates our decisions and moods, elevates Interiorae into the realm of graphic masterpieces.

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Works like Interiorae and voices like Giandelli’s are what comics need to thrive. Her focus, her precision, her compassion all help to create a work unlike most comics on the shelf now. Using a single building as this focus creates such intimacy.

Giandelli builds characters from single moments and lets them thrive throughout the rest of the book in a way most other creators can’t match. And it is through those characters and her precision in rendering them that Interiorae becomes a necessary work in the graphic canon.

Get excited. Look inside.

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Drew Barth (Episode 331) is a writer residing in Winter Park, FL. He received his MFA from the University of Central Florida. Right now, he’s worrying about his cat.

The Rogue’s Guide to Shakespeare on Film #86: The Merchant of Venice (1973)

05 Sunday Jul 2020

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Rogues Guide to Shakes on Film 2

86. John Sichel’s The Merchant of Venice, 1973.

This isn’t the first made-for-television version of The Merchant of Venice I have reviewed, dear readers. I found it for free in its entirety on Youtube.

I gave this televised antique a chance because this was, I think, Olivier’s only recorded go at Shylock. That this was based on Jonathan Miller’s National Theatre’s theatrical production also whetted my stunted curiosity.

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While I wouldn’t recommend this version as someone’s first foray into Shakespeare or even this play, if you are familiar with the play, this version is a gem despite the washed out nature of this 1973 TV version.

The blocking and cinematography of this modest production are outstanding! Often with television productions, you have actors yelling in wide shots as they stand around uncomfortably. That sort of an experience is like an inoculation against Shakespeare. Not so here. Peter Roden designed the sets, and they form a close, tight setting. The occasional bridge reminds us that this is Venice, but for the most part, the feeling is intimate. John Sichel was the television director, and I don’t know if credit for the superior cinematography should go to him (the IMDB page and end credits are unhelpful, dear readers). What I can say is that the camera moves a lot to frame the actors in these intimate shots that serve the story so well without drawing attention to itself. Maybe the filmmakers had no choice, playing Tetris with bodies and the camera because there was no room, but that choice is charming.

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The setting is the 1880s, which means, blissfully, no codpieces. The costumes make the story feel much more contemporary.

As a Shakespeare junkie, I am often ambivalent about the performances of Laurence Olivier. His Hamlet is somewhat dull. His Henry V begins brilliantly—until he gets to the part that Shakespeare wrote. But his Richard III is an epiphany. And so is his Shylock. This is one of Olivier’s best performances on film, despite almost no one seeming to be aware of its existence.

What is driven home from Olivier’s Shylock is how many chances Shylock gives to Antonio to be treated like a human being. When brokering the mockery of a loan, Olivier takes off his glove to shake Antonio’s hand, but Antonio rejects that offer—and when we next see Shylock, Olivier’s glove is already back on, as if he knew that his goodwill would be summarily rejected.

Shakespeare leans heavily on poetic justice in his comedies, and some plays include apologies for suggesting disruptions of the public order. The Merchant of Venice is no different. Shylock is contractually allowed to remove a pound of flesh from Antonio after Antonio defaulted upon the loan he so contemptuously made with Shylock. The Jew is punished for his hubris, his inhumanity, and his seeming contentment with his outsider status as a Venetian. But what we see before this ending leads us to believe that Shylock, whose house is robbed of his property—a chunk of his wealth and his daughter—is justified in his rage. If he were allowed to carve out his pound of flesh, would the grotesquery of this unnerve him? Shylock’s goal is to show the Venetian order its own logical absurdity—but he fails, tricked out of justice by a willful interpretation of his bond.

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This version of justice will feel poetic to anti-Semitic Christians in the audience, but not to those capable of listening to Shylock throughout the play. When Shylock hears the report of his daughter Jessica’s misconduct overseas, he then—listening to the tolling of the church bell—makes the connection that he can revenge himself upon Antonio using the bond. Antonio funded Bassanio’s courtship, and Bassanio is close friends with Lorenzo, who eloped with Jessica.

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By the end of the play, Shylock is left with nothing—not even his religion. And Olivier’s chilling performance of this erasure of humanity works every bit as well as Al Pacino’s.

And the play ends with Jessica feeling uneasy about her betrayal of her father—despite her father’s being no fun to be with. She doesn’t feel like she completely belongs with these Christians. And she hears the Kaddish.

There’s the love plot, which is done adequately enough. Joan Plowright plays Portia, who must marry whichever suitor solves the riddle of which of three boxes represents marriage with her best. (One scene has an operatic duet that can render one homicidal. Why is it there? Nothing operatic should ever sound out in fucking English!) There are a few scenes outdoors—and the magic of the cinematography dies. Joan Plowright was more interesting in drag as Balthazar the law scholar.

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So the colors are washed out—like an impressionist painting, perhaps—and a few scenes drag, but even Homer nods. Anthony Nichols as Antonio plays a racist cypher remarkably well, and the acting is generally strong. This might be Laurence Olivier’s best Shakespearean performance on film. This retro find is a strong Merchant of Venice.

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John King (Episode, well, all of them) holds a PhD in English from Purdue University, and an MFA from New York University. He has reviewed performances for Shakespeare Bulletin.

Episode 427: Bruce Janz!

04 Saturday Jul 2020

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Episode 427 of The Drunken Odyssey, your favorite podcast about creative writing and literature is available on Apple podcasts, stitcher, spotify, or click here to stream (right click to download, if that’s your thing).

Bruce Janz

In this week’s show, I talk to my friend, the philosopher Bruce Janz, about how to calm our monkey brains in the time of the pandemic, and what the pandemic can teach us about life before the pandemic.

NOTES

This episode is sponsored by the excellent people at Scribophile.

Scribophile

TDO Listeners can get 20% of a premium subscription to Scribophile. After using the above link to register for a basic account, go here while still logged in to upgrade the account with the discount.

Learn more about Queerbomb over at its Facebook page.

Check out my literary adventure novel, Guy Psycho and the Ziggurat of Shame.

 

The Diaries of a Sozzled Scribbler #12

01 Wednesday Jul 2020

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The Diaries of a Sozzled Scribbler

Transcribed by DMETRI KAKMI

1 July 2020

J. K. Rowling has been in the news a lot lately—for all the wrong reasons, I might add. As a responsible member of the global community I felt the need to approach this much loved, yet divisive figure, to find out what is going on.

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The interview took place as the famed author dashed across Charing Cross Station’s Platform No 9¾, quaint Louis Vuitton luggage in hand, to escape an angry mob of cocks in frocks.

S.S: May I call you Jo?

J.K.R: By all means.

S.S: That’s a male name, isn’t it?

J.K.R: It’s also a woman’s name. Without the ‘e’.

S.S: Are you giving us a clue?

J.K.R: To what?

S.S: Are you one of those transistors you have been attacking lately?

J.K.R: [laughs] You mean transgender.

S.S: That’s what I said. Transistors are the most voluble—I mean vulnerable—minority in society and you, a privileged white woman, have launched an attack on them.

J.K.R: I’m speaking out for women, not against transgender people.

S.S: You protest too much. I think you are transistor and I think you’re trying to hide it out of shame, guilt, and a poor dress sense.

J.K.R: Absurd.

S.S: Then why does Daniel Day Lewis hate you.

J.K.R: You mean Daniel Radcliffe. He’s playing to the gallery. He, like most celebrities, says what people want to hear. I on the other hand care about the rights of women and I recognise that men are undermining our hard-won rights by hijacking the debate and turning it into a scrum fight.

S.S: I’m the love child of Daniel Day Lewis and Isabelle Adjani. That’s why I’m consistently voted the most beautiful man in the world. I might change sex one day and take full advantage. Do you think the name Seraphina von Schtupp suits me?

J.K.R: [Taken aback.] What’s that got to do with this discussion? Hold on. Lewis and Adjani? Aren’t you older than both those actors put together?

S.S: How dare you. Ageist and transphobic. Now I see why the internet says you are filled with hate.

J.K.R: It’s not hateful to speak the truth about sex differences. And it’s not hateful to be concerned about the safety of women and girls in what is supposed to be a single-sex space, like toilets and change rooms, being used by people who are not women. How would you like it if women used the men’s room?

S.S: Fine by me. I don’t use lavatories. I have evolved beyond such animal instincts. You are aware, of course, that nowadays there is no such thing as sex. It’s all…how do you say? Bodily fluids.

J.K.R: [Laughs.] I think you mean sexuality is fluid.

S.S: I know what I mean.

J.K.R: If sex is not real then there is no such thing as same-sex attraction. If sex isn’t real, then why does a small minority want to change sex? If sex isn’t real then women’s experience is nullified.

S.S: What do you say to people who claim there is no such thing as ‘a woman’, only people who menstruate.

J.K.R: If there is no such thing as a woman, then there is no such a thing as a man.

S.S: Of course there’s such a thing as a man. Someone has to commandeer the ship and keep bleeders in their place.

J.K.R: [Shudders.] ‘Bleeders’, ’People who menstruate’. Such ugly, hateful, terms. Only a man who hates women could invent them. Goes well with TERF, CIS woman, and other words that nullify a biological woman’s experience and make them invisible.

S.S: Is that why you hate Felicity Huffman and Jared Leto?

J.K.R: They are actors who played transgender characters in films. I don’t hate them.

S.S: Do you think people who aren’t trans should play trans in films.

J.K.R: Yes, that’s why it’s called acting. The people who play witches in films based on my books aren’t really witches, you know.

S.S: I’m shocked to the core. That’s trampling on Endora’s inhuman rights.

J.K.R: Sorry to shatter your illusions.

S.S: Why do you hate transistors? All they’re doing is amplify electronic signals across the galaxy to contact aliens, like Gort in The Day the Earth Stood Still. He was trans, you know… A butch, hostile, one. Like a lot of trans activists, come to think of it…

J.K.R: I do not hate transgender people. I have trans friends—

S.S: That’s like saying I’m not racist because I have friends who are marathon runners. Or I’m not homophobic because I have friends who wear Acqua Di Gio.

J.K.R: [Sniffs.] Is that what I can smell on you?

S.S: No, that’s gin. I bathe in it every morning. It keeps me jeune et jolie, non?

J.K.R: Look, all I know is the concept of debate has deteriorated. To question, to critique, is not the same as hate. My life has been shaped by being female. I do not believe it’s hateful to say so.

S.S: What prompted you to write a series of children’s books that promote the love that started this brouhaha?

J.K.R: Which books are you referring to?

S.S: The Hairy Poofter* series.

J.K.R: [Laughs.] You mean Harry Potter.

S.S: That’s what I said.

J.K.R: The Harry Potter books are about a wizard who—

S.S: Nonsense. Hairy Poofter and the Chamber of Secrets—if that’s not a reference to anal sex, I don’t know what is. Hairy Poofter and the Goblet of Fire—surely a goblet of fire, in this infernal instance, is the engorged penis, shooting its love juices into the chamber of secrets. Hairy Poofter and the Cursed Child—a reference to someone who doesn’t know if they’re Arthur or Martha. Seems to me your books are full of messages, especially when you read them backwards inside a hexagram.

J.K.R: I’ve been accused of a lot of things, but never that. I’ve a train to catch.

S.S: A final word for your critics?

J.K.R: I am what I am, an’ I’m not ashamed.

Until next we meet. Cheerio!

* British/Australian for Faggot.

people-2570596_1920 SozzledThe Sozzled Scribbler was born in the shadow of the Erechtheion in Athens, Greece, to an Egyptian street walker (his father) and a Greek bear wrestler (his mother). He has lived in Istanbul, Rome, London, New Orleans and is currently stateless. He partakes of four bottles of Bombay gin and nine packets of Gauloises cigarettes a day.

Dmetri Kakmi, is a writer and editor. His first book Mother Land was shortlisted for the New South Wales Premier’s Literary Awards in Australia, and his new book The Door will be released in September 2020.

Comics Are Trying To Break Your Heart #77: This Cannot Continue

01 Wednesday Jul 2020

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Comics Are Trying To Break Your Heart #77 by Drew Barth

This Cannot Continue

If you haven’t heard yet, there has been quite a lot in comics these past couple weeks. Revelations about men in the industry using their power to manipulate and abuse women was brought to a fresh light two weeks ago by artist Aviva Mai and her experience with Cameron Stewart. And this brought more accusations against other men: writer Warren Ellis, editor Scott Allie, and writer Scott Lobdell. They have all engaged in sexual predatory behavior or, in Allie’s case, sexual assault.

And here’s the thing: what I have to say doesn’t matter. I wasn’t a victim and likely wasn’t going to be one as a white guy in comics. What matters are the women who have been harmed by men who held positions of power over them. Their voices matter—their voices have always mattered—and that’s why I’m using my platform here to show their stories.

This is a medium we love in an industry that has been rotten for too long. These abuses of power, this coercion and manipulation, are systemic. Bar meetings at conventions have become the industry standard and this is where these men plot and execute horrendous actions against women because they know they can get away with it. As an industry, we have to rip off this mask of supposed “acceptiveness” and look into the ugliness that has been hiding underneath for decades. Men in comics abusing their power for sexual gratification cannot continue. Men in comics manipulating and coercing women cannot continue. The “boy’s club” cannot continue.

We have to hold these men accountable for their actions against women. Comics can and will live beyond these shitty men, Scott Allie has already been fired from Dark Horse, but until the power structure that has enabled these men to enact their abuse against women is dismantled, we have to speak up whenever and wherever we can.

Believe women.

Dharma Bums Drew Barth

Drew Barth (Episode 331) is a writer residing in Winter Park, FL. He received his MFA from the University of Central Florida. Right now, he’s worrying about his cat.