Underpants On The Outside

As I mentioned in the comments yesterday, I finally got around to seeing the new Batman movie Monday night, four days too late. And today, I’m going to do without the lengthy unfunny preamble (don’t get me wrong – I wrote it, it just sucked, so now I need to justify having no intro whatsoever.)It wasn’t the greatest comic book movie of all time.  The first one (Batman Begins) was much better.  Moreso, IRON MAN was better.  That’s right!  I went there!First of all, let me say that any negative reviews do not stem from the fact that this movie absolutely TERRIFIED me.  Heath Ledger is so freakin scary that I would have probably pissed myself if I hadn’t already sweated out ever available ounce of water in me.  It reminded me of when I used to tutor people for the LSAT.  During the practice tests, people sustained such a high level of anxiety for so long that their natural body odor transcended itself, reaching a level of rank nastiness that might have qualified the testing room for “oubliette” status. I mention it because I left The Dark Knight with LSAT-funk.  Again, though, I don’t hold that against the movie, no matter how little I slept Monday night.

Before the nerd police break down my door, let me say for the record that this was also not a case of me going in with the typical fanboy paradox of both lofty expectations paired with tremendous skepticism.  Everything I expected from The Dark Knight delivered in full.  Unfortunately, the producers took a Windows-like approach to the movie: they gave me everything I needed, but loaded it up with a bunch of crap that slowed it down to a crawl.

[THIS IS WHEN I SPOIL THE MOVIE, SO IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS, LEAVE.]

- This movie is long.  LONG, long.  The only movies that should be that long are Victorian-era period pieces filled with social intrigue and epic romance – that way, I know not to watch them in the first place.  The thing is, TDK really didn’t need to be that long.  There are some bits in the beginning about modifying the Batsuit that never come into play later; they end up being nothing more than some meaningless, witty banter between Morgan Freeman and Christian Bale.  I don’t need to see that. When I see other people share witty conversation, it makes me wish I was wittier, and then I try and think of witty things to say, which results in blank, empty stares.

- There’s also a segment about a guy who figures out Batman’s identity and attempts to blackmail him, which goes nowhere. Again, the only function it serves is for Morgan Freeman to have a (pretty damn) funny moment.  It makes me wonder if Morgan Freeman has a certain number of comedic moments mandated in his contract.  If so, someone should tell him that we (by which I mean, the entire population of America) really are convinced that he is a charming, sage old man with a good-natured sense of humor.  We got it; he can relax.  In fact, now that Paul Newman is busy making salad dressings and Robert Redford looks weird, he’s pretty much got the Charming Old Guy market cornered.

(On the other hand, I really like imagining Morgan Freeman yelling at the writer/producers: “TWO??? Two funny lines?!?  You’ve written that limey cocksucker Caine so he’s practically Monty fucking Python, and I’ve got two funny lines?!?  Now fix this before I shove an Oscar up your ass!”)

- Can someone please convince Christian Bale to change his Batman voice?  He’s so good as Bruce Wayne, but then he puts on the mask and starts growling all the time.  When you’re up in a mugger’s face it’s intimidating, but when you’re trying to talk to someone across the room it just sounds silly.  But that’s just my opinion; I’m no Batman expert (correction: I absolutely am a Batman expert.  Recognize.)

- There’s a moment when Batman, riding the Bat-cycle, needs to make a quick 180.  What he does is run the bike straight into a wall, which kicks up the front wheel so the bike is vertical, then he pivots the bike on the back wheel and brings the front down, facing the opposite way.  Bear in mind that he was doing around 80 mph when he hit the wall.  That’s not Batman; that’s a friggin Darwin Award.  Just because I accept that Batman can fly using a cape made of “Memory Cloth” doesn’t make me an idiot.

- Speaking of the Bat-Cycle, having it eject from the Bat-Mobile like that was freakin awesome.  It just needed to be said.  When I have my midlife crisis in a few years, I hope I’m rich enough to buy a car that does that.

[SERIOUS SPOILERS NOW]

- Why’d they have to kill Two-Face?  They had a perfectly good Joker movie already – if you can squeeze in the origin of Two-Face, that’s all gravy.  And their Two-Face graphics looked AWESOME, but then they go and kill him, and a perfectly good bad guy is wasted.  Y’know, there are starving kids in Africa who would just love a perfectly good villain like that…

- On the other hand, two thumbs up on killing the girl. Batman can’t be in love.  Crime doesn’t stop just because Thursday is Date Night.  More importantly, I base all of my fantasies on life of Bruce Wayne – if he enters a monogamous relationship… what’s the point?  It’s like Groundhog Day.

New Superhero Diary up.  Enjoy it, or else.

And yes, I’m working on the Batman review.  I’m trying to keep it under 18 pages.

I’ve got another Superhero Diary on the internet PHENOMENON that is Crave Online.  I really hope they get rich (and take me with them).

Yesterday, the beautiful people at Crave put up the latest of my Superhero Diaries.  Before you click through, though, be aware that when it comes to comic book references, this one has a high degree of difficulty. Essentially it’s about a character who is waging this secret war against aliens, pretty much by himself, from his small one-bedroom apartment. When I was reading the books, I couldn’t help but think that in real life, everyone would just assume this guy was bat-shit insane, which is the premise of the piece.   But when I was writing it, it occurred to me that while I’m proficient (like a motherfucker) at Half-witted and Obnoxious, Crazy isn’t really in my repertoire. Luckily I know a guy who doesn’t use toothpaste. 

Some of you may be familiar with friend, commenter, and extremely-large aquatic mammal OG, a.k.a. Occupational Government.  Others of you may meet him at the Wedding of Doom. (If you’re asking yourself, “who is this guy and why is he yelling at me?  More importantly, why is he yelling at me about pancakes?” you’re probably talking to OG, and he can smell your fear.)  And if there are one or two of you left, you probably don’t know me, and your lives are richer for it. (But please keep coming back to the Underpants.)

I could give no description of him that would do him justice, but here’s my favorite story about him: Among our friends, OG is notorious for his unwillingness to touch doorknobs with his hands.  He’ll hit them with his elbows, if need be.  Nor will he touch bathroom sink handles, or the levers on paper towel dispensers.  He is terrified of diseases, and because of it, watching him in a public men’s room is pretty damn funny.*  I asked him about it once, and in the process of explaining, he said, “Just wait.  We’ll see what happens when you go to take a piss right after John Q. Genital Wart got through in there.”  I almost fell out of my chair laughing.  But since that day I have not been able to use a public restroom without thinking of the name John Q. Genital Wart, and I have never again touched any surface in there with my hands (other than my junk.)

The reason I mention all this is because every time I got stuck writing this Superhero Diary, I asked myself, “What would OG say?”  Yet I would bet I didn’t come even close.  So I hereby invite anyone who knows him, as well as the phenomenon himself, to offer their opinions.

*And not gay. 

I believe it’s a common experience that when people hear themselves on an answering machine/voicemail they think, “Oh my God do I really sound like that?” Well, as I watch these videos of me at the Comic-Con, I can’t help but think, “Oh my God do I really sound like that… AND look like that???” [update: make sure you click to watch all three videos - the video that initially loads is something different.]

At first I was wondering why the camera guy kept filming me from slightly below waist level, because, as you can see, it kinda makes me look fat. (Then again, so do my eating habits.) But I also realized that shooting me from above would show off my bald spot, so it’s kinda damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

I also want to take a second to add in some highlights that didn’t make the videos. In the musical intro, there’s a shot of me holding a sword, as some guy walks past and pats me on the head. First of all, I killed him in a duel minutes later; no one condescends to me. But second of all, that was a booth selling genuine samurai swords at a comic book convention. Like, real swords. With edges. This is a place where a lot of kids think they could totally be Batman, at a booth a hundred feet where they could play Quake 3 until their adrenaline is sky-high from fake killing people, and five feet from where they could play fight with light sabers. (I do this as well.) This seemed like a poor idea to me. I mean, I’m 29 and I was half-tempted to buy one and serve some justice and/or try and cut hot women’s clothes off. When I asked them what sort of measures they took to ensure people’s safety, they assured me that all of their swords were wrapped in cardboard boxes. With tape. In other words, we’re safe as long as those 18-year olds don’t have their house keys on them.

There was a booth belonging to a consumer advocacy group that defended violence in video games and other entertainment, saying it did not necessarily make kids more violent in reality. Their booth was located in direct sight of the Quake 3 trailer, directly next to the light saber seller, and right across from the guy selling swords. They didn’t feel like commenting on the irony.

Neal Adams, who appears in the intro, is a pretty famous comic book creator. I wasn’t expecting to get interviews with anybody, but in our random wanderings we started talking with his wife, who naturally controls his schedule (just as my fiancée controls mine) and told us to come back in about 45 minutes. While he was a really nice guy and talked to us for a lot longer of a time than we expected (until his wife told him to stop, naturally) the material he covered wasn’t really what Crave was looking for. But I got him to talk shit about Stan Lee*, and I can’t believe they took it out. Oh yeah – it happened.

The editors showed the really cute blonde who kept trying to get on camera. What they didn’t show was how blatantly she was hitting on me right before that. In fact, just about all of those fine fine women you see doing the promotional work (the belly dancers, the Bodog girls in vests, the two girls playing video games) were flirting with me. Needless to say, that’s never happened before, and I’m fatter and balder than ever. I wish that ten years ago someone would have told me that all I’d need to get hot women interested in me was a camera and a mic cube…Dad.

There was a booth where original transformers were on sale next to a copy of the Playboy featuring some chick from Battlestar Galactica. Someone call Disneyland and tell them they’re now the second happiest place on Earth.

I could probably go on for pages, but I’ll stop here. Needless to say, I had a blast, and I owe a gigantic thanks to the guys at Crave Online for the opportunity (you guys know where to send the check, right?)

*When I asked him what the problem was with good ol’ Stan the Man, Neal said that Stan was really bad at remembering names. When I said “talking shit”, I was using the term a bit loosely.

After a sit down with the Marketing Department (read: thinking on the can), I decided to split the Underpants.  From now on, all comic-book related semi-hilarity will be presented on my new site, Superhero Diaries (superherodiaries.com).  Don’t worry, I’ll still be doing semi-funny things here on the Underpants; I was just thinking that if I wanted to build a true comic book site, it should be appropriately isolated and anti-social. 

Check it out – all the old Comic Blogs are there, including a new one (exclusive!) that just went up today.

Update:  I just put up a review of the preview for Spiderman 3.  Check it out.

Did you hear? Peter Parker is Spiderman!

Reason number 1 why New York is the greatest city ever: we are now reporting comic book news as if it were real news. Logically, the next step would be blogging comic book life as if it were real li- oh wait, I’VE BEEN DOING THAT FOR MONTHS! I’m a goddamn visionary!

The only sad part is that, despite what the article says, that issue came out a week ago [Ed - no it didn't] yet the Post still managed to beat everyone else to the story. The Times and Daily News better get on the ball; I hear Superman is battling a giant spaceship RIGHT NOW.

In fact, there is no section in the paper that couldn’t use a little comic book news from time to time. Observe:

Obituaries: The Ventriloquist, Magpie, and Cold War-era relic KGBeast were murdered in Gotham City.

Law: She-Hulk’s rape suspect, Starfox, escaped from prison.

Business: Lexcorp has made surprising developments in the field of anti-Superman spacecraft and is reported higher-than-expected earnings in Q3.

Life and Leisure: If you’re looking for fun things to do in Star City, take a night-time catapult tour of the city from City Hall, courtesy of Green Arrow.

Sports: Thor hits 10,567 ft home run. Thor has always lived under suspicion for steroid abuse due to his outlandish physique, but now critics are leveling additional charges that he uses a corked hammer.

Life is awesome.

Full Disclosure: Apparently Gawker got to this story earlier today and made a similar joke as me.  I think mine was better, at the very least longer and based on actual comic books. Still, they’re a lot better at this blogging thing than me, and I wanted to acknowledge it lest I get a beatdown for plagiarism.

Update: Goddamnit!  The issue DID come out yesterday!   This whole post hasn’t really been working out for me.  I guess that’s what happens when my fact checking department, like my IT and legal departments, consists of me and a six pack of Miller Lite.  Clearly I’m understaffed and need to hire more six packs.  BA-DUM-BUM!  (Thank you, thank you.  I’ll be here all week.)