Review: Comic Book Junkies

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2020
Images from the Internet

Comic Book Junkies
Directed by Lenny Schwartz, Nathan Suher
IM Filmworks
105 minutes, 2020
www.imfilmworks.com

Note: Please ignore the different sized texts. Blogger/Blogspot is going through a change, and this is an issue in their end. Hopefully they will get it repaired soon.

In the current pandemic crisis, has Zoom become the new artistic toolbox launch-pad, especially in the cinema field? And why is Rhode Island so far ahead of the curve? And will Timmy find his way out of the well? Tune in next week for the answers to this chilling… nah, just keep on reading.

A few weeks ago, Lenny Schwartz and Nathan Suher came up with Far From Perfect: Life Inside a Global Pandemic (reviewed HERE), which serially presented local Providence (and it’s environs) actors and filmmakers talking into their computers via the Zoom software, and compiled it into a nearly two hour narrative that refused to be boring.

Schwartz is a playwright who has a history of giving us theater about comic book originators, such as his production Co-Creator, the story of Bill Finger, who helped bring Batman to life. So Lenny, who is well-versed in all things comics-related, has now given us an original idea that interweaves the fantastical with the everyday, in a comedy superhero low-budget adventure spectacular, co-directed and edited by Suher.

The style of this film is very close to the earlier Far from Perfect in that we are introduced to the cast through a series of Zoom chats, phone video services and mini-cameras, who one-by-one introduce the next one. But rather than discussing the pandemic (though you know it’s coming), the topic at hand at the start in Act 1 is them getting tickets online to the San Diego Comic Con, arguable the comic convention (as a side note, I used to go to comic cons in New York in the late ‘70s-early ‘80s run by Phil Seuling, my high school English teacher who taught a class in, yep, comic books; got to meet Gray Morrow, Jim Steranko, and others that he brought into the classroom).

One of the nice things about this is that the fans are all ages and genders, not just some guys living in their mom’s basement (though there is at least one of those here, too). While there is a lot of inside joking, talking about particular artists like Jack Kirby and filmmaker Joss Whedon, honestly, you don’t have to be a follower of any particular brand or universe (e.g., MCU or DCU) to find the humor in these characters. In fact, not all of those presented are even comic book fans, but are involved with those do are. The palate is quite wide. It’s the level of fanaticism that is the focus, in my opinion. For example one person complains about not caring about the convention because it is silly, but she is just as fervent about water polo (you heard me).

A fun way to watch this is to pay attention to the room behind the person talking, often filled with interesting memorabilia with anything from Batman to Star Wars paraphernalia. It’s even curious when there is an absence of such. It’s like walking by someone’s house after dark and their front window shade is open, and you can see a little bit of their lives. A true mixture of fiction and reality.

The first part of the film spans a few months, from pre-COIVD to the epicenter, with the cancellation of the Comic Con, and the freak-out that follows. This wisely follows the fans’ reaction to the termination, rather than focusing on the misguided and dangerous anti-maskers who deny.

Act 2 starts with, I kid you not – after all, this is about comic books and superhero worship – the Earth being swallowed by some kind of black hole of white light. Now evil aliens are on the prowl. So, who ya gonna call? Since superheroes aren’t real, is it up to the cosplay heroes to defend the earth? Oh, by the way, if you’re wondering, the plotlines I’ve divulged are in the story’s descriptors on IMDB, so I’m not really giving much away. No spoilers that weren’t already spoiled by the filmmakers themselves, okay!?

This dimension is clearly a metaphor for the isolation of distancing, the economy crashing, the lack of governmental oversight and care, and a general mixture of malaise, ennui, and terror of this virus culture. And since there are lots of heroes and hero-wannabes, there are also a number of potential supervillains who side with the darker forces here as well (Samantha Acampura has a funny, over the top moment as a follower of the dark side in what appears to me a Harry Potter cosplay). This evil can be seen as a metaphor for Republicanism, as I see it, and would explain a bit about the storyline as it enters Act 3, which is the transition to post-apis runs the gamut from startingly bad to deliciously hilarious. For example, one person ponders, “I just paid off my 30-year student loan and now space aliens are invading. Just perfect.” In another, an alien states, laughing hysterically, “Not even David Caruso can save you.”

The acting is… well, it’s a bunch of cosplayers, actors, directors, filmmakers, artists and every-day folk so you’re going to have a wide range of skills, but each bit is no more than two minutes, so like they say about the weather in many places, “If you don’t like it, it’ll change in a minute.” The kids near the end tend to dominate the storyline and are great, and there is a wonderful rant by Mr. Troma himself, Lloyd Kaufman (the man is a treasure, I tell ya!). After the credits, wait for a spooky, demonic end piece cameo with Michael Thurber as Mr. Dark.

The film usually respects the characters, even the fanboys of both genders (we need a better, more inclusive term). Yeah, they can be a little wacko, as I have seen first-hand, but mostly it’s a collection of people who have focused in on a single thing with the passion of those ammosexuals, except a comic book isn’t going to discharge a bullet or drive a truck into someone for their beliefs.

This is a bit of a miss-mash and sometimes the storyline is a bit WTF, but it’s inherently and dominantly fun and watchable, even though it touches on something tragic at the same time. I enjoyed it from beginning to end.