FOR LAKEN:

 

HAPPY DOCTOR WHO DAY 2024 (11/23)

 

RON FORTIER'S CAPTAIN JAIN MARLEE, SPACE SMUGGLER: FIVE STAR-SPANNING STORIES

Writer Ron Fortier's Captain Jain Marlee, Space Smuggler presents a feisty, young heroine cut from the same, intrepid cloth as Stella Star and Han Solo, packaged with striking, cover artwork by the one and only, Rob Davis!  

This Redbud Studio curation actually features five, Fortier adventures, with astonishing imagery from today's top, comic artists. 

The initial tale is the uber-crafty "The Smuggler's Lament," which sports stunning illustrations by Brian Level, with Chris McQuaid lettering. The chilling second, "A Cold Demise," features ornate panels by Luis Rivera (who gives Fortier a swell cameo as the efficient Constable Glick), with shading and lettering by Warren Montgomery. The third entry, "The Fugitive Prince," flaunts cyberpunk-ish, RanXerox-spun graphics by Richard Jun, with Elisa St. John lettering; and for "Cats' Ears," Fortier's Mr. Jigsaw collaborator, Gary Kato, bestows ebullient art and lettering for what acts as a raucous but breezy chapter. And last but not least, Shane Alden (penciler) and Ariel Aquire (inker) bring the epic "Ghost World" to grand, haunting life, with lettering by James Gaubatz, in a fable that invokes the dark, exploratory depths of Alien, 65 and Event Horizon. 

The individualized, artistic styling for this volume is fascinating to behold (done in the varying vein of Batman: Gotham Knight and The Animatrix), but the developmental strand is steady throughout, making Marlee a credible, in-depth character per the assemblage. She's not only appealing on the outside, but cool and calculating within. 

Because of this release, Marlee has become one of my favorite, astral adventurers. I only wish I had been astute enough to have embraced her fine saga sooner!

To order, visit 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DN6DNT29?ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_fed_asin_title

DUNE: PROPHESY (A PREQUEL ASCENDS)

The HBO/Max, six-part prequel, Dune: Prophesy (derived from Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson's Sisterhood of Dune) has begun, with preordained regal house against regal house, and though it's too soon for me to judge the conflict on the whole, I can still offer my forefront acknowledgments and views.

The first acknowledgment is the series' vast cast, which is worthy of Dune's erudite heritage: Emily Watson, Olivia Williams, Jodhi May, Sarah-Sofi Bossnina, Shalom Brune-Franklin, Aoife Hinds, Jade Anouka and among these talented ladies, Travis (Vikings/Warcraft) Fimmel and Mark (The Penguin/Shazam!) Strong.  

The second acknowledgment is the opening's verbosity. With this said, heavy exposition (in this case, of an anti-machine, feminist movement that wishes to birth a JFK knockoff) isn't necessarily a bad thing. For example, Heretic is verbose, and because of it, its story is damn riveting. Prophesy's introduction, however, seems more like a university seminar, detailing a spiritual experience that, because of its immense weight, makes its mysticism secular. 

On this basis, I feel compelled to liken the new Dune to Syfy's Krypton: a lavish series, jammed with historic, DC details and motivating philosophies, but with little to have kicked it into high, pre-Kal El gear. 

I'm not saying for certain that this Dune prequel will suffer Krypton's short-lived, history-anchored fate. And Prophesy more than deserves a shot, and it may yet deliver the long-haul goods, even enough to get fans pumped for that next, theatrical chapter.

Then again, even if it should click by season's end, sometimes too good a thing can hinder what ensues. For example, some have said that Star Trek: The Next Generation blunted the anticipatory thunder of Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, and that Freddy's Nightmares had sucked the frightful surrealism well in advance of A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child. (I suppose, one could apply the same view to The Penguin, but that track holds a more independent structure to its platform: connected, yes, but still a clear-cut bridge all unto itself.)

We'll see if Prophesy causes friction or cohesion for Dune's filmed continuation. For now, I (along with other interested parties) will keep viewing, and when the time comes, reflect on the season's accumulation. 

PHOENIXVILLE PUNK ROCK FLEA MARKET/ROOT DOWN BREWERY (11/24): SHOPPING SHOWDOWN

I saw Tusla King #2 (Season Concludes)

It seems like only yesterday that Paramount+'s Tulsa King: Season 2 began, and here we are, in the aftermath of its bold conclusion. The perceived rapidity of the season was due, in no small part, to its engrossing plot and interesting characters, identifiable for their devotion to a cause, but also their flaws. And to distinguish Season 2 from 1, it wasn't so much a fish-out-of-water fable this time, as it was the story of a man who's shed his outsider relegation to become in every way the insider.

As with the prior season, Season 2 was sometimes Faustian and in most other ways, pulp-ish in the best hard-boiled manner. Its Godfather/Sopranos flair makes for good melodrama, but man, is Sylvester Stallone ever exceptional as Dwight Manfredi. Here's a guy who's tough and stoic when facing his foes, but bright and erudite (self taught in prison, serving time for a crime he didn't commit). He's also a family man, principled and protective, and what's wrong with that? (That's right, I'm directing that to all you bums who claim that such is something ho-hum and would be dismissible in today's pushy, cold-hearted factions.)

The guest-star standout for Season 2 was Neal McDonough's slick "businessman," Cal Thresher. Gosh, I thought McDonough was menacing as CW/DC's steely-eyed Damien Darhk, but Thresher was nuanced to the chilling max and an ideal, interceding adversary for Manfredi, creating a kind of elitist-vs-regular-Joe undercurrent, which only helped to make the storyline more credible. (I must also add that I'm glad Stallone and producers recruited McDonough, since he's a diverse and outstanding actor, who's taken some flack, as I understand it, for his moral views. He's my kind of guy no matter what, and Thresher is my kind of villain.)

I was surprised, though, that Andrea Savage's Stacy Beale was only in a small portion of Season 2. (Maybe she'll weave back in for the third.) All the same, Dana Delany's Margaret Deveraux did a swell job becoming Manfredi's main squeeze. 

I want more of Tulsa King, and though I'm confident Season 3 will surface, I'm also hoping that it'll contain more episodes than the previous runs. Sometimes shows can be padded to a fault, but Tulsa King's rough grace presents a foundation that propounds a virile expansion. 

I saw Hellboy IV: The Crooked Man

The latest Hellboy is a prequel, subtitled The Crooked Man, the latter a character wedged within Mike Mignola's Dark Horse saga. The movie has already played in U.K. theaters and is now available via streaming on Amazon, with a disc release set for December. 

Directed by Brian (Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance/Jonah Hex) Taylor, from a script by Mignola and Christopher Golden, Crooked Man takes place in 1959, with Jack (12 Strong) Kesy's Hellboy teamed with Adeline (Resident Evil) Rudolph's (Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense) Agent Bobbie Jo Song (as well as Jonathan Yunger's doomed Agent Gates), on a train ride to the witch-ridden, Appalachian territory, as they transport a morphing, funnel-web spider. The arachnid's raucous presence is more a means to get the protagonists off the train and into a by-chance, folk-horror fable, which features Martin Bassindale's villain, Jeremiah Witkins, the Crooked Man, a once affluent fiend who's now willing to torment mountain residents with his soul-stealing stunts, gaining a penny for each spirit he seizes.  

Though Crooked Man is a Hellboy tale, its complementing hero is Jefferson White's Tom Ferrell, who like other characters in this chapter, is culled from the comics. He's a humble man who's gotten himself embroiled with witches, one an old love, Hannah Margetsen's Cora Fisher, who just so happened to dabble in shady dealings later down the line, and the other, a full-fledged temptress, Lee MacNamara's Effie Kolb.  

We learn that the crafty Kolb tried to make Farrell a witch in his own right and came darn close, bestowing him a mystical bone that manifests whenever he's in trouble, but he learned that the bone was linked to the dreaded and uber-creaky Witkins, who scared Ferrell enough to want to repent and repeal, but can he? Ferrell is said to be forever bound to the object and as such, the Crooked Man, who in turn is obliged to Satan. The movie is Ferrell story, as such, with Hellboy and friends being there to lend a hefty, helping hand through attempts to "renegotiate" the poor guy's unwitting pact. 

Through Farrell's ordeal, Hellboy sinks deep into the story's dark psychedelia, seeing visions of his mom (Carola Columbo) and teaming with the strong-of-faith Reverend Watts (Joseph Marcell) to ward off a zombie attack. Along the way, the whispery Grammy Oakum (Suzanne Bertram) amps up the creeps, while Farrell's long-lost dad (Anton Trendafilov) layers on some mournful sensitivity. The combination is potent, surreal and edgy, enough to pull one into its wide, weird web. 

Crooked Man offers lots of ideas within its peril, but it's all tied together with an eerie, laid-back simplicity, which distinguishes it from Hellboy's previous, movie chapters. Crooked Man isn't so much a dark, superhero film, in this respect, as it's a horror movie rendered in the style of Evil Dead, Night of the Living Dead, Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things and Never Let Go, though at times it also feels like Twilight Zone's folk fables, "Jess-Belle" and "The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank." This twisted texture is enough to make it stand on its own, even though it never dismisses the popular, cinematic and comic tropes of its previous incarnations. 

I do hope that we get more Hellboy movies done in Crooked Man's style, with Kesy again in the lead. Perhaps even a Hellboy miniseries would be a nice touch. Whatever it takes to keep the character in the cinematic limelight is more than welcome, and Crooked Man is a great way to restart the tradition. 

I saw Red One

As an early-Christmas, imagi-movie gift, Red One, directed by Jake (Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle) Kasdan and written by Chris (Fast & Furious) Morgan (based on a concept from producer Hiram Garcia), slides its merry way into theaters. It's a jaunty blend of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, A Nightmare Before Christmas, Santa Claus (1959), Santa Claus: The Movie, and Ernest Saves Christmas, adorned by elements of Doctor Who (in particular, the story, "Once Upon a Time") and Mission: Impossible, each portion wrapped in festive, DC/Marvel garland that's trimmed with ample, steampunk, snow-globism. It's also aimed at kids, as well as adults, containing lots of silly splash for the former and lots of two-fisted gusto for the latter. 

J.K. Simmons plays the titular hero, a fit, no-nonsense Saint Nick, who acknowledges the gravity of his job and holds the unparalleled confidence to get it done ... until he's kidnapped. It's then up to Santa's ELF/Enforcement Logistics & Fortification (security) team, led by Dwayne Johnson's Callum Drift and Lucy Liu's Zoe Harlow, to get him back, abetted by crackerjack hacker and reluctant recruit, Chris Evan's Jack "the Wolf" O' Malley. O'Malley is incredulous to the whole affair (being a long-time Santa cynic), and so naturally clashes with the Kringle-devoted Drift, who, if the truth be known, has grown a tad disenchanted with his job, after witnessing man's inhumanity toward man one too many times.   

Kiernan (Mad Men) Shipka's Gryla, a shapeshifting ogre-witch, is responsible for the misguided abduction, and along the way, we get Kristofer Hivju's frightful Krampus, who sports just the right, gnarly looks to please monster-movie fans of all ages. (Comprising the supporting cast is Wyatt Hunt as young Jack; Wesley Kimmel as Dylan, Jack's son; Mary Ellis as Olivia, Jack's ex; and Bonnie Hunt as Mrs. Claus; along with an assortment of talented others who each lends a respectful, helping hand to the high-tech fable.)

In addition to the larger-than-life Krampus, Red One features Reinaldo Faberlle's Garcia the Polar Bear (perhaps the movie's top, CGI scene-stealer), joined by some humongous reindeer, ravenous hellhounds and really cool (pun intended), living/breathing, giant snowmen. The entrance of these entities adds much to the tall tale's punch, though the TARDIS-esque, toy-store passages were the towering highlight for me.

I guess one can deduce that I like Red One, even though my inner snob isn't suppose to, but since I dislike my inner snob, I'll take whatever criticism is thrown at me. You know, on further reflection, Red One does have a pervading, live-action, Rankin/Bass, The Year Without a Santa Claus feel about it, and if not for the slight cussing and over-the-top melees, the story would translate easily into a swell, 1960s/1970s, stop-motion event, though one, mind you, that would probably still rub all those humbugger snobs the wrong way.  

For those considering Red One for a view, if only to engage a little, Yuletide cheer, I say slip it on for size. If it doesn't turn out to be your all-time favorite, Christmas flick, so what? The odds still favor you'll appreciate its spirited tone. 

FORTIER & DAVIS' THE BOSTON BOMBERS #2: THE ALTERNATE-HISTORY SAGA CONTINUES

 

Writer Ron Fortier and artist Rob Davis continue their inventive, Boston Bombers saga in Issue #2, from Redbud Studio. 

This release is, in fact, a revival of a popular title that Fortier conceived many years ago, of which the late Harlan Ellison was a fan. The adventure depicts a group of female, secret agents for the Catholic Church, working in cahoots with the League of Nations, a world power in Fortier's parallel scheme.   

To add to The Boston Bombers' unique flavor, its foundation depicts Christ having manifested as a female, who's accepted by the Jews as their unequivocal Messiah. In addition, WWII never occurred, and the Roman Empire has continued its governing influence over the centuries. 

For the second, Boston Bombers installment, readers are treated to a magical prelude on the first (alternate) Christmas, and then are flash-forwarded to the Bombers preparing to commemorate the big holiday, as aviatrix Indra Divine is summoned to Boston to visit her mother for a briefing on the recent, New Delphi coup. (This meeting further reveals a startling secret, which was forged with Indra's mother by the discerning Cardinal Mutongo.) Meanwhile, in regal Roman South Africa, the treacherous Senator Rufus Iturius encounters the lethal Pavol Lavoca, who holds information on the "missing" Princess Augusta Kumana and with such, a strong-arming proposal. 

The gripping segments are specialized and contrasting, but together they blend in a manner that's seamless and exciting in the best, Bondian fashion. Fortier's storytelling, in this respect, is as crisp and profound as ever, and Davis' artwork is nothing short of exquisite. 

Don't miss out on this awe-inspiring, alternate-history epic. Order at 

https://www.indyplanet.com/the-boston-bombers-v2-2?fbclid=IwY2xjawGW6rVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHbmmcNZnsBjppg1hXohvbqELycFiI1RYGA6DjjCX3qhQUrOvoQV_WbD8bg_aem_MIcxGgWO50KfOFxyxt4XPQ