MY REVIEW FOR THIS BOOK

In 1933, in the midst of the Great Depression and scant years before the Second World War, a group of truly gutsy film pioneers made a movie that would change the industry forever. Although Cavalcade would be named Best Picture, King Kong changed the landscape of motion pictures forever.

A grump and occasionally besotted (in the archaic sense) old man named Willis O'Brien or Obie was charged with the responsibility of animating Kong. Long decades before computers brought life to the impossible creatures of the screen, Obie cobbled together an assembly of metal armature and rabbit fur and through the painstaking process of stop motion animation brought King Kong to life. He was not alone.

Merian C. Cooper, the real life counterpart to Robert Armstrong's colorful Carl Denham, was an aviator, Air Force officer and pioneer, adventurer and filmmaker to remote and dangerous locations. In no small irony, Cooper would pass on April 21, 1973. Armstrong would pass one day prior on April 20, 1973. I'm sure the Gods of Motion Pictures wanted to make absolutely sure that the latter would be there to welcome the former to the Great Silver Screen in the Sky.

Throughout much of his life, Cooper's right hand man was rough and ready Ernest B. Shoedsack, a fellow aviator including time as a combat pilot in World War One and early cinematographer. There's a fantastic buddy picture waiting to be made about these two. My gosh. What a story that would be. I can practically see Carl Denham pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand in pitching the idea.

In a bit of justifiable nepotism, Shoedsack brought his wife, Ruth Rose into the project. She reworked the script considerably basing Denham's character on Cooper and hero, Jack Driscoll on her own husband, Ernest. All things considered, a more perfect match couldn't have been depicted on screen.

This book tells the whole tale. The back story. The run up to the movie. The challenges faced in making it. the reward felt in having achieved it. I am in no wise telling stories out of school when I say that it remains my all-time favorite movie with one notable exception which I consider its equal, the original 1954 Gojira (Godzilla) which while not stop motion required considerable genius and dedication to bring to the screen.

If you're a real movie fan, my friend, this book belongs somewhere in your collection.

SALES IS NEITHER THE SOLE NOR PRIMARY METRIC OF SUCCESS IN COMICS: HERE'S WHY! 

More than sixty years ago, a bunch of people, most of whom did not read comics, decided what should and should not be permitted in comics. There was some concern about crime and to a lesser extent violence. There was outsize worry about horror and absolute terror over anything adult. To be frank, you had to really stretch your imagination to find anything adult in comics, but in the mid to late fifties paradigm, some material was arguably more suggestive than others. In some cases, dots were connected that clearly never existed. Consider Fredric Wertham's claims about Batman. 

Never mind, you could see a brand new set of licensed horror films called the Shock package on late night TV. Paperbacks were never trashier or more overt in terms of content. Of the limited primetime slots on ABC, CBS and NBC, close to fifty were cowboy shows with plenty of violence. Crime dramas followed closely. And sweaty fat men "wrestling" was a major "sport." No concern over those things and kids had ample access to them all. 

Only comic books were limited to and by these geniuses and their guardian of morals, the Comics Code Authority, had more holes than swiss cheese. Eerie Publications and James Warren renamed their comic books magazines, slapped a slightly higher price tag on them, and got away with everything that titillated and thrilled readers in the late forties and early fifties although both would add dollops of blood, violence, sex, and not a little kink. What they didn't provide, underground comix did. It was the wild west of free expression and hypocrisy. 

Unfortunately, mainstream comics were either going to collapse and fold as an industry or survive by publishing the only economically and "morally" viable material left, kiddie books like Casper and superhero comics that to be frank entered the age of embarrassing domesticity. Lois Lane was always getting married to somebody and Superman was frequently seen overwhelmed in a kitchen because funny and campy were acceptable. Batman '66 didn't occur in a vacuum. 

Being a kid, I thought this was normal. What did I know? Superman and Spider-Man were OK. Batman was fun. I loved Casper and related titles. I got by because I was little and apparently I was the target audience, but what about anyone with more than a first grade education? There's a reason Gomer Pyle's catchphrase was "Shazam!" and Goober was overly concerned about the exploits of certain superheroes. It was society's not-so-subtle way of saying that comics were either for kids or the functionally illiterate. There was no room for comics for adolescents or grownups. 

The average comic rose from a dime to twelve cents and shortly thereafter to fifteen. Aforementioned magazines averaged thirty-five cents which while still pocket change was strategically less affordable for the pre-teen audience. It was all neat, clean and wholesome. I really came to detest the last of those three words, because it meant dull and boring. 

Even by comparison with TV cartoon humor, which was incredibly tame, comic book jokes fell flat. Donald Duck and his nephews had some fun adventures and Hot Stuff could be a bit of a stinker. Casper was sweet and relatable and Roadrunner was like visiting with an old friend, but none of it was exciting, laugh out loud, or enlightening. It was safe. It also wasn't to last. 

Within a few years, even comic book producers began pushing boundaries. The Comics Code Authority, once the terror of the industry, had less and less control. They had, however, condemned the industry in one inexorable way. Superheroes would continue to rule the industry. There would be several complications along the way. Things were about to change. 

1986: THE 1939 OF COMIC BOOKS

Movie fans will recognize 1939 as one of its best years: Gone with the Wind, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Wizard of Oz, Son of Frankenstein and countless others emerged. 1986 was the year a deep-voiced Alan Moore published Watchmen and Frank Miller began his run of Batman: the Dark Knight. Comics may have been stuck with superheroes, but the target audience had changed from children to discerning adults. 

It was a time when content creators wanted fairer compensation. Some broke away from the big two to form their own companies. Underground comix were joined by Outlaw titles. Prices began skyrocketing. By the early nineties, someone got the bright idea that comics were also highly-prized collectible items. A very loud boom was followed by an equally industry-altering bust. Things would never be the same. 

Distribution transitioned from newsstands and candy stores to comic shops and distributors held greater power and sway than in the past. In intervening years, prices would soar per title from fifteen cents to $3.99 and more. Graphic novels, manga, omnibus editions and online comics would be added to the mix. Somehow, in spite of great advances in technology, sales would wax and wane. Companies would be sold; and while comic book sales became tepid, comic-based characters in films would skyrocket. From Michael Keaton's Batman to Avengers: Endgame, comic book characters would have greater social impact than at any time in the past. 

ENTER THE CULTURE WARS

Arguably, one of the most dangerous periods in American history arose with various manifestations of the far right. From Gamergate and Comicsgate to militias, mass shootings and seditionists storming the Capitol in a failed attempt to overthrow the results of a general election, something unsavory has been released into our society. 

In spite of superheroes having been created by Jewish content creators and often fighting for the oppressed including Superman's famous battle with the KKK on radio, the right felt (and feels) that comics are rightfully the province of WASP culture and heritage. Commentators literally go insane in condemning inclusivity and diversity in comics. One of their cutest and most disingenuous tricks is to judge comics by sales.

As the entertainment industry has known forever is that wading into politics, religion and/or sensitive cultural issues is a way of driving down sales. Of course, if a product is safe and sanitary by those standards, it rarely stands for anything. It's just so much meaningless mush fit for the Gomer and Goober analogs of the modern era. 

For those with more than a grade school education, the trend is for comics to mean something. Inclusivity and diversity can, if left alone long enough to sprout, expand upon readership, but when a new title fails to catch the public's imagination immediately, the right is ready to declare it and everything it represents unmarketable, i.e., better to cater to the demands of perpetually adolescent good ole boys. 

As a result, the industry is more or less frozen in this cultural standoff and the future isn't looking good. While manga and the other variants mentioned above (and comic-related movies) are selling well enough, the monthly comic is languishing and may soon become economically unviable to publish. This will unquestionably mean the end of comic shops which have already suffered with Covid restrictions and online sales that can be handled in the comfort of your own home from the safety of your computer - deliveries being brought to your front door without so much as requiring your getting dressed and having to look through a new stack of comics. 

WHAT COULD SAVE IT

What could save the industry is ignoring the whining right and accepting that our world is changing. Be more inclusive and diverse in development of characters and break free from the bonds of superhero comics. Adults now buying titles are more than sufficient well-adjusted to handle a little nudity and sex, a bit of crime and an occasional ghost tale or two. In fact, since comics are simply a medium of communication, they can become means by which to struggle with everything from quantum theory and time travel to general psychology and alternative spirituality. 

Some titles have already burst through those limitations: Harrow County, Locke & Key, Tarot Witch of the Black Rose, the ageless Vampirella...even Archie comics, the formerly most overly wholesome of the wholesome, has more than dipped its toes into the waters of change. Things can only get better unless those in charge of the industry permit a bunch of men suffering arrested development destroy their opportunities to enlighten, entertain and make a very good profit. That choice is still on the table. 

EUGENE MAURICE OROWITZ: CHALLENGES OF A TEENAGE WEREWOLF 

His mother was an Irish dancer, a Roman Catholic, with suicidal tendencies. His father was a Jewish man who raised his son in his faith although the son never seemed all that religious. In his youth, he saved his mother at least once during an attempted drowning on a day at the beach. He was so sickened that he threw up. 

His mother was apparently not well, but back in the day, that wasn't the sort of thing you talked about much less addressed in any substantive way. You hid it and dealt with the stress. Eugene became a bedwetter, which was embarrassing enough, but his mother cruelly hanged his wet sheets out the window so the neighbors could see. Stress felt insurmountable. 

In spite of his athleticism (he set a 1954 record for javelin throw for a high schooler) and won an athletic scholarship to USC, but a torn shoulder ligament ended both his athletic dreams and college career. He began smoking heavily and it is generally regarded that this was a factor in his eventual passing at the age of 54 from pancreatic cancer (although doctors still seem uncertain as to the causes and triggers of that deadly disease). 

Having headed west, he needed something to do. It was a great time to wind up on Los Angeles. No city so represented the spirit of mid-century modern aesthetics and culture as LA. While Maila Nurmi and James Dean lunched at Googie's next to Schwab's Pharmacy where Lana Turner was discovered, Eugene pumped gas across the street from Warner Bros. studios. 

The land of Bugs Bunny was quick to notice the good-looking kid but the name had to go. So he thumbed through a phonebook and landed upon Landon which he adopted as his last name, taking Michael as his first. 

He bounced around on television and made one certifiable hit of a movie, starring in I Was a Teenage Werewolf, before landing in television as a staple star: Little Joe in Bonanza, Pa in Little House on the Prairie, and Jonathan, a probationary angel, in Highway to Heaven. 

He seemed perfect for family shows, but he was in a bit of career flux after Highway was cancelled in 1988. He only had two more acting credits between then and 1991 when he passed. 

INTENSITY

Visually, physically, the young Michael Landon often reminded me of the young Johnny Depp. To me, they seemed a type. Their character, however, felt markedly different. 

The late mid to late 50s was the age of the juvenile delinquent, the perpetually-enraged teen who posed an existential threat to society. Michael Landon fit the role to a tee. Even in his carefully-controlled role as Little Joe, there was always an intensity boiling beneath the surface. I think that's how he made the werewolf role believable. 

Indeed, the werewolf, whether Chaney's iteration or Oliver Reed's or others, seemed to represent the adolescent and post-adolescent struggles the unfettered male. Neither of those had quite the same figurative or literal teenage angst as Landon's. That had to have come from somewhere, some deep indwelling source. Perhaps the aforementioned sorrows of his youth. 

Regardless of how nice his role seemed, there was always an edginess to his character - as though some beastly anger could burst forth at any moment. The creators of Bonanza were not shy about letting that side show, especially when he was still very young. In fact, the moniker, Little Joe, seemed an attempt to diminish the volcanic rage lying beneath the surface. No telling what fully grown Joe would be capable of doing. 

Over time, Michael lost his edge. He was getting older. Mature men do not act like impulsive boys suffering from terminal testosterone poisoning. Moreover, the whiny James Dean "rebel" who wanted to piss and moan about how much his life sucked while living in relative comfort in a middle class home with three squares and the possibility of a meaningful future became boring and outdated. On TV, the delinquent, Fonzie, was tamed. Henry Winkler went from edgy to bland to who the hell is that? Same thing with Michael Landon except sadly he didn't live long enough to become unrecognizable. 

IN REFLECTION

The werewolf Landon portrayed was in many ways a seminal character. He was the most adolescent of the bunch or as near to it in terms of age as a competent actor could be. His teenage rage was identifiable and relatable and, as indicated, may have come from deep personal embarrassment and suffering. That Landon was actually a different person was no surprise, because a role is a role. That he could bring the heat for the role meant that he remembered what it felt like to be enraged, frightened, and acting out in anger. He knew what it felt like to be helpless and subject to the cruelty and insanity of other people. 

The werewolf as a character will always be thus, relatable because he is not only a transitional character between childhood and adulthood, but because the memory if not the lingering sensations of suffering and rage can last lifetimes. 

TWENTY DAYS ON: THE LASTING IMPACT OF GODZILLA VS. KONG

I do not think for a moment that the original Gojira 1954 was a movie about a man in a rubber suit. I do not think for a moment that Godzilla vs. Kong was about a fight among three titans. There is a through line shared by both movies. Each was an examination of the state of humanity and both in some significant way found our experience lacking but not beyond hope. 

Hope is the most precious gift of all. It was the last thing in Pandora's box. It is the last thing onto which we hold in life and in far too many instances in the experiences we encounter while living. From beginning to end, we are faced with a series of challenges, some far greater and seemingly insurmountable than others. 

In 1954, Japan, the only nation on earth to ever experience the immediate results of atomic weapons fired in anger, was scant months from a tragedy of a somewhat different kind. Castle Bravo, a nuclear test, produced far more power and fallout than had been anticipated. As a result, the men onboard the fishing trawler, Daigo Fukuryu Maru (the Lucky Dragon Five), were exposed to radiation sickness. One died. 

It is this mishap that is remembered in the opening of the Japanese movie of the film and two years later recalled as the first encounter between humanity and Gojira when men on board a fishing boat are confronted by a sudden flash followed by their vessel bursting into flame and sinking. It is not, as was long supposed, an immediate reference to either Hiroshima or Nagasaki although both were remembered throughout the film. 

While the long ago moments of those two blasts resulted from a lengthy, complicated and sorrowful conflict between and among nations, what the film expressed to us all was the danger such power poses to all of us. It was our shared humanity in the balance and that little film was there to serve as a reminder. It was certainly not reducible to drive-in movie fare. The message was brought into complete focus by a group of children singing a hymn that to this day never fails to stir my heart. 

For me, this movie's greatest moment is when bound in chains, angry and afraid, Kong reaches down to outstretch his finger to Jia, an expression as significant in art as any including the image of God's outstretched hand toward Adam on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. That one so big could reach out to one so small and both share a common bond is a palpable expression of hope for humanity teetering on the verge once again of other conflicts and the senseless disregard we express toward Nature including one another. This, to me, was a profoundly spiritual moment, a rarity in any genre of film. 

It was also a deeply personal moment to me. This Kong is old, beaten and worn. His better days are clearly behind him; and the bond he shares with Jia is in no wise dissimilar from that which I share with my daughter whom I call, Boo. Those who are so small look up to us as if we are limitless fonts of power and wisdom, but how often do we, who are grown, depend upon the love and support of an innocent? The world should be a place where we all appreciate each other just a little more. 

There are debates and discussions about who won and who lost, but I would say Kong won not because Gojira lost, but because he got to go home and home was where his loved ones were. 

WE MAY BE WITNESSING THE END OF MONTHLY COMICS AND COMIC SHOPS

We're all very sentimental about the comics we read when we were kids. Those of a certain age remember when one cost either a dime or twelve cents. We were appalled when they rose to fifteen cents but we somehow adjusted. The resulting comics didn't markedly improve. They more or less remained the same. The industry was just catching up with rising prices and shrinking markets. There was also competition from less-restricted forms of comics in underground comix and also black and white magazines that flouted the Comics Code Authority which had rendered the rest of comics kid stuff. Being kids, most of us didn't notice...until we did. 

We grew up and became aware of the complexities of the world in which we were living and all the birds and bee stuff altered our perspective on representations of the human form and interpersonal relationships. More mature matter slowly entered the world of comics and with it great and grave controversy. The arguments that flared up then have followed readers and the industry ever since. Eventually, the Comics Code Authority would lose sway. Their ability to affect distribution was soon challenged by change of venue from newsstands and candy shops to comic shops proper. 

These temples of the written word and artistic expression greatly expanded the consciousness of the average reader and provided creators far greater license to enlighten or simply shock and appall. The overall quality of comics improved but prices also skyrocketed to the extent that it could reasonably be said that with few privileged exceptions, comics were no longer kid stuff. What kid had the kind of disposable income to buy comics in the dollars rather than pennies, nickels and dimes? Of more affluent kids who might have had such money, how many had the encouragement or approval of parents to read comics? It was, and remains, a dilemma that left the primary market for comics in the not-too-distant past out in the cold. 

Some say that 1986 with watershed contributions by Alan Moore and Frank Miller was the year it all changed permanently. With more companies beginning to challenge Marvel and DC, the superhero may have continued to be the six-hundred pound gorilla in comic shops, but other kinds of titles, some jettisoned decades before by the combined influences of Dr. Wertham and Congress, were becoming more prominent. 

It felt as though comic shops and monthly comics would be safe forever, but the one constant throughout history including human experience was, and remains, change. We may be witnessing the end of both venerable institutions. It may not happen overnight. There may be some appeal related to nostalgia. Campaigns to keep alive your comic shop may mirror similar efforts to keep drive-in theaters open and other touchstones of the past. The same may be true of monthly comics, but some change including elements you may not like are inevitable. 

The key to keeping both afloat is out of the hands of most of us. Decisions are being made in boardrooms by people who move companies around the same way most of us shuffle through junk mail. We may keep one piece out of ten for reference, but most goes into the can. Such a waste of trees! In the past six months, countless rumors have been circulated about the biggest comics producers. If they're on the chopping block, how safe can other companies possibly be? 

They're not talking about cutting ties with well known characters with profitable ties to movies and TV shows. They're not necessarily talking about ending the production of graphic novels and manga. They're just finding it hard to justify the continued investment of large amounts of money into books that simply are not selling adequately (according to their standards). 

Into this already volatile situation is the admixture of those who vehemently and violently oppose the expansion of markets by appealing to people who hitherto have remained unrepresented and underrepresented. The hue and cry against powerful female characters, people of color and members of the LGBTQ community has been loud and constant; and the reasons given have been transparently without merit. Simply, the inclusion of people who are different from you does not in any substantive way threaten you. Moreover, it is the influence of such spiteful people who are destroying what is perhaps the last chance for monthly comics and comic shops to remain economically viable, i.e., expanding markets and profitability through diversity. 

An existential question that must be raised is whether or not a parallel market that caters to such people also provides avenues for revenue not currently being maximized? Should comic book producers create content for hatred and ignorance? Should there be a track more likely to appeal to less expansive and inclusive people; and, if so, should such a market be permitted to blot out lines based in diversity? 

Frankly, I think a comic producer that would publish venom or hatred with plausible deniability by conspicuously creating less culturally-diverse content would be ignored by xenophiles. Moreover, I think it would be the definitive end of the comics industry to adopt hateful rhetoric and opinions no matter how plausible the deniability. There really is no room economically or ethically for ignorance and hatred. 

What then about content creators who independently produce material to appeal to such demographics? Well, to be frank, that's already happening, but I'm not sure you're going to find such material in your average comic shop. If word got out that a comic shop was providing that kind of content to customers, they would be easy to ignore; and countless, bigger and better organized online providers would easily fill the gap. So, too, would online comics that are generally more convenient and less expensive. I happen to like hard copies of my comics, but I'm part of a dying breed. Plenty of younger people are perfectly satisfied to read their comics on their phones and other devices or to buy hard copies through the online super store rather than the local comic shop. 

NOT GIVING VOICE TO IGNORANCE AND HATRED ISN'T CANCELING ANYTHING

The Constitution is a sacred document, a straightforward document that provides simple to understand protections; and yet, a fullness of appreciation requires the active oversight, maintenance and interpretation of the country's greatest Constitutional scholars. 

Some would call this paradoxical and yet most Americans possessed of common sense have negotiated the waters of Constitutional understanding since its inception. It is not beyond changing, but by very design, change is difficult. Change tends to occur incrementally. Even when some insist that change occurs too quickly, it is very rare for lasting change to occur with anything approaching alacrity. As a result, we have a stable country. Not always a country in agreement or consensus, but stable, i.e., not constantly on the verge of collapsing. 

In recent times, a new accusation has been laid at the feet of those private institutions controlling the written and spoken word, cancel culture. If someone or some private concern disallows voices of ignorance and hatred a platform, they are accused of violating the First Amendment's protections of free speech, but as anyone interested in the Constitution already knows, no right is absolute. There are practical limits and one of those limits generally regarded is the right of private institutions to control what will and will not be expressed on their platforms. 

The putrescence and gut-wrenchingly repugnant nature of some opinions is such that no sensible person would write or say certain things out loud. We know that in the hearts of darkness of those who hold such opinions, the world is a sick and twisted place, but the rest of us don't need to hear or read about it. Moreover, to the extent that television, radio, movies, and written material can fall into the hands of innocents, we do not want such opinions to corrupt the minds of those incapable of yet discerning fact from plausible fiction. 

As parents and concerned citizens, we expect that what is made available in public forums meets certain minimum standards of decency, sanity and common sense, but just beyond the safe confines of reason and morality is a nightmare world of conspiracy, bigotry, prejudice and violence. Silencing such perspectives or limiting them to their own dark and worrisome corners is the responsible thing to do and it manifestly does not violate either the letter or the spirit of the First Amendment. Simply put, cancel culture is a made up thing, a phony, purely artificial construct designed of, by and for those who want to mainstream ignorance, hatred, violence and baseless propaganda. 

THAT WHINE YOU HEAR: THE ILLOGIC OF THOSE WHO STRIVE AGAINST JUSTICE

So, you don't value justice? What superhero fights for crime? Let's examine this logically, shall we? 

The opposite of justice is what? Crime, right? Or at very least injustice whether criminal or not, correct? The a priori assumption is that most of you will be nodding your head in agreement at this point. Those who are not probably already have an idea of where this is heading. Good for you. You get a biscuit and a pat on the head. 

There is no need to expand upon the concepts of justice and crime is there? These words and ideas to not need expansive qualifiers. Crime is crime and injustice is injustice. Righteousness and justice do not require qualifiers either, do they? You'd be amazed how many disagree with such simple sentiments. You really do have to twist yourself into a metaphorical pretzel (I have to qualify here by saying metaphorical because many such people are terrible and erroneously literal) to suggest otherwise. 

In their Bizarro World, justice is wrong, crime is good and superheroes representing bad guys is somehow logical. In fact, they daily pine for the bad old days when a lot of injustice and crime was overlooked. Turning the clock back to the Silver Age is what they want to do. 

Or do they...really? 

Superman fought the Klan. He was created by two talented Jewish kids from Cleveland. He fought for "Truth, Justice and the American Way" and it was understood that racism, rank misogyny and other unjust and criminal things were bad. If you turned on The Adventures of Superman, you always saw him fighting for the little guy, because he had been created by people who faced injustice and crime. On June 2, 1932, Jerry Siegel's dad died of a heart attack after his store had been robbed.

Even Superman's real name, Kal-el, included the name of God, El. So did his biological father, Jor-el. Those not-so-subtle hints are overlooked by those who strive for injustice and crime and expect superheroes to protect bad guys and all they represent. 

Social justice is simply justice. The qualifier, social, is superfluous. So all the whining and complaining about Social Justice Warriors or SJWs which is a daily assault on the senses of those who love comics and the very notion of superheroes are on the wrong side of history, morality, ethics and the law, but at least we know what you think and what your values are.