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.

A Fuselage Called SHRAPNEL [1983]

Text by Diane DeVito / FFanzeen, 1983
Introduction by Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

Shrapnel were a fun – albeit jingoistic – band, being straight ahead basic rock’n’roll, if you could picture a mash-up of the Ramones and the Dictators. Stripped down and raw, this electric group called CBGB’s its home. It was there I saw them a couple of times, and they didn’t disappoint.

After Shrapnel, lead singer Dave Wyndorf, the focus on the interview, would go on to form and front the popular Monster Magnet, with bassist Phil Caivano. Drummer Dan Clayton would join Mayday Parade. David Vogt passed away a number of years ago. Daniel Rey would produce three Ramones albums, be the guitarist on Joey’s last solo LP, and replace Top Ten as rhythm guitarist for the various incarnations of the Dictators. Their manager, Michael Alago, would go on to be a music executive and photographer who would sign the likes of Metallica and White Zombie.

This article was originally published in FFanzeen, issue #11, dated 1983. It was credited to Diane DeVito, but it was actually by the Managing Editor of the magazine, Julia Masi. She did so much writing for us, we both agreed to use the occasional pseudonym. – RBF, 2015

What’s faster than a speeding bullet? More powerful than a locomotive? Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird… it’s a plane… it’s… it’s a rock’n’roll band? Shrapnel, fighting a never-ending battle for truth, justice and the American way.

David Wyndorf, alias mild-mannered lead singer / songwriter for Shrapnel, says, “We’re American guys. We’re an American band. So we use a star. I like the star ‘cause it’s on Captain America’s shield,” confesses Dave, the truth finally apparent.

Ace reporter that I am, I wouldn’t want to reveal Captain America’s secret identity, but one is tempted to look about and see if there’s a telephone booth nearby into which Dave could run to change into his other outfit, the red, white and blue one. The Captain America one.

Shrapnel is Wyndorf, vocals; Daniel Rey, guitar; David Vogt, rhythm guitar; Dan Clayton, drums; and Phil Caivano, bass. They are a comic book band, like Blondie and the Ramones. Joey Ramone even contributed some neat vocals on the band’s single, “Combat Love.”

Shrapnel’s beginnings were more than a little controversial. They played CBGB and other Lower East Side hangouts, and were building quite a following. But then – things began to sour. They were caught in the crossfire of negative New York press. The accusations flew. The Village Voice labelled the band, “proto-fascists and neo-Nazis,” in response to Shrapnel’s army garb and militarist lyrics.

Wyndorf now views the situation with a grain of salt: “At first I laughed. I could see the writer sitting the other way and staring at the wall. Hell, writers must have a hard time sitting there thinking about stuff to write about. [It’s a dirty job, but someone has got to do it – dd.]

“Because I had black boots on, they said, ‘Yankee militarist.’ Which wasn’t bad, you know, but neo-Nazi’s? Come on!”

Shrapnel has since shed their army attire. “I felt like a hypocrite after a while…we go out and sing these songs we wrote when we were drunk, [shouts] ‘Kill, kill, kill / John Wayne is God,’ and fling G.I. Joes around. The purpose was to get people mad (which they did), which was real fun.” It was comical, almost vaudevillian-like.

When the mood strikes, Shrapnel still does “Chrome Magnum Man,” and used a “bomb” as a stage prop. Michael (Alago, Shrapnel’s manager and all-around good guy) hates it. “It’s a song about a little kid who gets to turn into a giant super-hero. And throw a bomb around.” All in fun, you know. But something tells me Dave is that little kid, who is transformed into a super-hero.

“I like super-heroes. I can’t help it. I still like ‘em.” Dave’s in good company. Another rock hero, Ray Davies, is a super-hero fan. He wanted to fly like “Superman” and heard “Captain America Calling.”
Dave does not think Shrapnel has reached the caliber of rock-hero. Yet. “A rock-hero; I’d like to be a rock-hero, man, rock-hero, like on the cover of Circus magazine.

Shrapnel does fit the comic book hero persona. “I’d love it to be like that. I’d love to work it so we’re a bunch of crazy atom-age kids lost in a world we never made.” Sounds like a scene from a comic strip. Are you listening Marvel?

Click to enlarge

Marvel Comics did take notice. Shrapnel appeared in the 1980 Spider-Man Annual. Dave considers it “our crowning achievement.”

Presently, Shrapnel will be shopping around their tape, which includes two new songs, “Hope for Us All” and “Crime.” Record labels take note.

“’Hope for Us All’ is my song,” smiles Dave. “It’s a tribute to the human spirit. It’s a real optimistic song. ‘Ha! We know where you’re going, pal,’” he kids. A more serious expression appears, “But that’s the way I felt. I was watching some movie about some guy making it as a Broadway star and it was so great! You know there’s hope for us all. If this sluck [loosely translated as “jerk”] can do it, I can.”

At that moment, I believed he could, and so did Cap! Good night, Captain America, wherever you are. Dave, pass me the funnies.

DVD Review: Unauthorized and Proud of It: The Story of Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

Unauthorized and Proud of It: The Story of Rock ‘n’ Roll Comics - Special Edition
Directed by Ilko Davidov
Wild Eye Releasing
84 minutes, 2005 / 2012
Wildeyedvd.com
MVDvisual.com

Revolutionary Comics, the company that put out Rock’n’Roll Comics, was sadly short-lived, as was its creator, John Cusack-lookalike Todd Lauren (nee Stuart Loren Shapiro). With a mixture of r’n’r attitude and capitalist entrepreneurialism, Todd took his dream as far as he could go before his murder in 1992 at the age of 32.

Some people loved Todd for what he was doing, some hated him for how he did it, and others felt a mixture of the two for the same reasons. This documentary features all of these opinions, taking a less-than sentimental look at Todd, his products, and those directly or indirectly affected by him.

Essentially, what Revolutionary Comics started doing was publishing “unauthorized” band histories in comic form. Sometimes the artwork was crude (reminiscent of the Chick religious tracts), oft the information was wrong, and much of it in black-and-white. As the owner of a bunch of them, however, I can tell you they were interesting and fun to read, even about the bands I wasn’t into.

The first issue focused on Gun n’ Roses, and in typical fashion, Axl Rose threatened to sue, which brought on a media fire that shot the sales of the book up astronomically. Some musicians not only didn’t mind being featured, but were happy about it, such as AC/DC (in fact, some pages of their comic form are published in The Illustrated History of AC/DC by Phil Sutcliffe, published earlier this year). KISS also reportedly was happy with the output.

Two of the artists that go on video record here that endorse their lives in print are Alice Cooper and Mojo Nixon. In fact, Nixon rather gushes about Loren. However, Todd was sued by New Kids on the Block, who had just had an “authorized” comic done by Harvey Comics; Loren won the case.

Those who were often not big fans of Todd, however, were apparently the stable of writers and artists (many are interviewed here), of whom were allegedly often taken advantage. One example given a few times is that when Loren gave the talent a check for their work, the back had a stamp on it saying that Todd owned the rights of the work into perpetuity. Essentially, to endorse (and thereby cash) the check, one had to agree to the terms. If you ask me, this is what capitalism in its purist form is all about: taking advantage.

Possibly his biggest critic was fellow comics publisher, Denis Kitchen, who produced Kitchen Sink Press (including The Crow, Death Rattle [one of my faves], Melody, Snarf, and Omaha the Cat Dancer) until 1999. In direct competition, Kitchen riles against Loren’s business practices with a mixture of righteous indignation and possible resentfulness of his success.

Music wasn’t the only topic of Revolutionary Comics, though. Loren also released Conspiracy Comics (the JFK assassination, etc), sports, porn (as did Kitchen Sink Press), and an arguably infamous horror short story series called Tipper Gore Stories. This was a (rightly) slap in the face to the politican’s wife who was intent on censoring records with her PMRC (Parent’s Music Resource Center) group. It is here we find a meta-story about Revolutionary Comics, as the DVD delves into First Amendment rights, which Loren was supposedly championing (how much was true indignation and how much good publicity, is up for debate).

Where Revolutionary Comics (et al.) would have ended up, who knows, had not Todd been murdered (supposedly by someone he picked up; I worked with a person to whom that this happened). In a supposition of theories which is quite interesting, the documentary presumes that it may have been done by serial killer Andrew Cunanan, who also killed Gianni Versace, among others. By some of the home movies, interviews and other information presented via people around him, big possibilities loomed; of course, according to his dad, a key figure here, he would have become a multi-millionaire.

There are also some nifty extras tacked on, including video producer Duane Dimoch giving anecdotes about Todd’s personality, writer Robert Gates describing how he got assigned the KISS comic and met the band, and of special interest to me, Cynthia Plaster Caster discusses in detail how she obtained the genital casts of both Jimi Hendrix (which we see) and his bassist Noel Redding.

A fascinating release on so many different levels, its scope covers many areas of interest for both music and comics fans, as well as freedom of speech issues and gay lifestyles.

Book Review: "From Krakow to Krypton: Jews and Comic Books" by Arie Kaplan

Text by Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

As Arie Kaplan clearly shows in his book, From Krakow to Krypton: Jews and Comic Books (The Jewish Publication Society, 2008, $25; more information below), one cannot tell the story of the Jews’ role in comic books without telling the history of comics.

From the start, Kaplan illustrates how Jews, being excluded from the general graphics design business due to their heritage, created not created a means in, but fashioned an entire industry along the way.

The first official comic, published by Max “Charlie” Gains (Ginsburg), and titled Famous Funnies, was a pasted together book of newspaper comic strips that sold independently in 1933. The depression was in full swing, and people were looking for inventive ways to make a living, which was made all the harder by prejudice, be it racial or religious. As this new idea started out, as often follows, there were imitators.

Just a few short years later as the market for reprints was waning, National Comics (which would change it’s name to DC), published the first Superman story in 1938, created by writer Jerry Siegel and artist Joe Shuster, two childhood friends who had been percolating the idea since they were 12 (in their youth they were members of a Science Fiction club whose fellow clubmember and friend was the late Forrest J. Ackermann, the Jewish creator of Famous Monsters of Filmland, as Kaplan notes). It was then that comics started booming, and the era of the superhero started.

In typical Jewish fashion of the ‘30s, a time of social reform, Superman represents that idea of being a “man of the people,” and protector of the under-represented. As Kaplan also correctly points out, as his popularity rose, he became more of a symbol of the “protector of everyman,” in which he became more of a “leader of men.” [I want to acknowledge here and now that I am aware of my masculine use of the word “man” for humanity; simply, I am trying to speak in terms of the book, and the period of which I am discussing.]

In other words, if I may use the allegory of which this book is informed, Superman basically went from Golem, a symbol of protection of the weak, to rabbi, who is a representative of the entire congregation (i.e., humanity). However, due to the time period and the approaching war in Europe, Superman came across as very “Protestant,” despite his Jewish origins (such as his escape from Krypton in a Moses-like rocket/basket by a family that hoped he would be safe at the other end). This is especially true during World War II, when Superman became a symbol of Americana, to a grander purpose to protect the United States, the Allies, and the world from Nazi aggression. Despite some codified Jewish signatures, he became the icon of a (mostly) Christian nation, and the books reflected that.

The next big addition to the comics universe was by Bob Kane (Kahn) and the under-appreciated Bill Finger, the Jewish creators of my personal favorite comics character, the Bat-man (later shortened to just Batman, of course). Will Eisner’s The Spirit, and Jack Kirby (Kurtzberg) and Joe Simon’s Captain America, shortly followed. From there, it just kept exploding, including stalwarts such as Stan Lee (Leiber) and Gil Kane (Eli Katz). In fact, the field becomes so crowded with artists and writers, most of whom are from Jewish backgrounds (though excellent comic book people like Joe Orlando, obviously, are not), it is hard to tell who is Jewish and who is not, especially since so many names were changed as Jews in many fields often did up until the ‘50s. Even though there were some who sported their own birth names, such as Will Eisner, Al Jaffee, Chris Claremont (that was easy), and Joe Kubert, it was more common to have an assimilated name. By the time of the underground comix, however, it was ordinary to see names like Harvey Pekar, Trina Robbins, and Art Spiegelman.

Before the rise of comix in the late 60s, most of the “Jewishness” of the characters, Kaplan points out, are codified, such as the Superman/Moses motif mentioned earlier, or the use of the Golem, which Kaplan connects to both Superman (protector) and the Hulk (uncontrollable beast created by man), but oddly, not to Ben Grimm (Fantastic Four’s The Thing), which seems quite obvious to me (clay/stone), especially since Grimm has been “outed” as being Jewish.

One of the ironies of the whole history of the role of Jews in comics is that while the industry was essentially built by this group, it was also almost taken down by one of its own in the ‘50s, thanks to the book Seduction of the Innocent by Frederic Wertham. His was a McCarthy-istic level of attack of seeing sex in the shadows and lines of the comics (especially those put out by EC). This led to a gatekeeping intra-industry self-governance organization (similar to the Hay’s Office in film started 20 years earlier) called the Comics Code Authority, which help stifle originality and a level of social justice, turning the books more into romance and common-denominator superheroes stories. [As a sidebar: censorship is an outside influence, gatekeeping is a inter-industry watchgroup.]

Essentially, the book is broken up into three appropriate sections: The Golden Age (1933-55), The Silver Age (1956-78) and The Bronze Age (1979-present). My personal history of comics (though geek-lite; I was not as much a “collector” as a reader – and re-reader – who kept his comics) started in the Silver Age of the early ‘60s, and went through until around 2003, when my comic collecting sort of curtailed. Kaplan has pointed out much about this period that I had not only been unaware, but also not had the insight to realize. Happily, Kaplan is quite thorough on the “hidden” Jewishness of the character and plots, and about the artists who drew them. Especially enjoyable is the deeper focus on specific creators (such as Siegel and Schuster, Kane and Finger, Eisner, Kirby, Pekar, and Spiegelman).

It was quite nice to see a nod (albeit brief) to Phil Seuling, who created both the comic con, and the comic book specialty shop (the first, opened by Seuling, was in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, on the corner of 20th Avenue and 85th Street, by the way…it’s a liquor store now). He was also my high school teacher who took us to DC Comics to watch them be created, and brought some guests into the classroom like Gray Morrow and Jim Steranko. But I digress…

Another of the aspects I appreciate about From Krakow to Krypton is how Kaplan deconstructs some of the codified information about its subjects (and authors), such as the Golem connections I mentioned previously. Sometimes it felt a bit like a stretch (e.g., Spiderman having “Jewish stereotypes” of being “bespectacled, slight of build, studious, awkward”), but more often it was more of “Ohhhhhh, I get it” and “Ah-ha!” moments.

Two posits of Kaplan that I truly appreciate especially are the degree of “Jewishness” the early artists were trying to express (e.g., social justice), and how after the rise of the independent comics, mainstream characters were not only more overtly Jewish (Rory Regan in Ragman, Kitty Pryde in X-Men), but also how older characters were later revealed to be of the faith (Magneto in X-Men, Ben Grimm in The Fantastic Four). Of course, in the independents, there was more of a connection right from the start, with books like Maus, the works of Harvey Pekar, and important contributors like Will Eisner, such as the amazing A Contract With God. What I would like to see more of by Kaplan, in possible future books (or editions) is more about the writers’ and artists’ background. For example, Kaplan notes that Bill Gaines (publisher of MAD is to have been atheistic, and Eisner was secular, but I’m also interested in the religious history of the others, like Kirby, Kane, and Lee.

I do have two points of contention with the book that I must add. First, on page 107, Kaplan states that, “Stan Lee’s Marvel Comics of the 1960s were also distinct because they were written for a wider audience demographic than most comic books.” I totally disagree, in a friendly, debating kind of way. I believe that these comics were designed for a more specific and knowledgeable readership. Kaplan even states in the same paragraph that “for the first time comic books went out of their way to court high school and college students as well as young kids. Teenagers racked with adolescent neuroses and identity issues identified heavily with characters like Spider-Man and the X-Men…” Earlier comics were broad-based stories that anyone of any age could read, not just kids (this is, in my opinion, the result of the CCA, trying to make sure that everyone can be happy). The second half of the ‘60s brought back cultural relevance and social justice story lines that had been gone for a while. It had to become more focused on a specific demographic that started to be too old and too savvy, and brought them back into the fold.

My second contention is the lack of mention of one of my favorite series, Shaloman, an independent comic from the early 1990s written, drawn and produced by Al Weisner (Mark 1 Comics). It’s mostly tongue-in-cheek, but the comic also deals with the futility of in-fighting between Jewish sects (portrayed, for example, by a war between the planets Chasidiak Four and Grivenus Seven), anti-Semitism, and cultural food, all wrapped in a sharp sense of Yiddishe humor. As far as I have seen, though, the first Jewish comic book series produced by, for, and about Jews is Mendy and the Golem, created in 1982 by writer Leibel Estrin, artist Dovid Sears, and colorist Barry Grossman. Issued by publisher Yankel Pinson's Mendy Enterprises in New York City, it deals with a Chasidic family and their Golem, Sholem (whose face you never see because he's taller than the comic's frame), and tells of Ashkinaszi Jewish traditions, historical stories and scholars, and ways to live one's life. It is geared towards older children, but has a funny and corny sense of humor with liberal use of puns, and with lots of Hebrew and Yiddish thrown in (with translations, 'natch).

That being said, I want to say I also admire the format of the book. The layout is superb, with many color and black-and-white illustrations, including some full pages of stories that relate to what Kaplan has described. Even the forward, by Harvey Pekar (text) and JT Waldman (art), presented in comic form, feels right.

Russell Wolinsky, ex-singer of the seminal New York band the Sic F*cks, asked me how this book compared to Danny Fingeroth’s Disguised as Clark Kent: Jews, Comics, and the Creation of the Superhero. The answer is simple: I don’t know, as I haven’t yet read Fingeroth. Maybe another blog at another time?

An aspect about Arie Kaplan’s From Krakow to Krypton that is appealing is that while it respects the comic nerd and never talks down to him/her, this is also a cultural study that is non-exclusive, so even if one is just interested in Jewish cultural history, they can read this and not feel lost, or like an outsider. Kaplan treats all his readers equally, being that he is a mensch.

About the author (from the book jacket): Arie Kaplan is a comedian, MAD Magazine writer, and author of the new comic book miniseries Speed Racer: Chronicles of the Racer. His other comic book credits include the DC title Cartoon Network Action Pack and the Papercutz series Tales From the Crypt. Arie lectures all over the country about comic books, comedians, and popular culture. He is the author of Masters of the Comic Book Universe Revealed! And he’s also written for MTV, Cartoon Network, and PBS Kids.
www.ariekaplan.com

About the publisher: The Jewish Publication Society is a nonprofit educational organization formed to enhance the Jewish culture by promoting the dissemination of religious and secular works, in the United States and abroad, to all individuals and institutions interested in past and contemporary Jewish life.
www.jewishpub.org

On Comic Book Collecting

All photos are from the Internet

Text by Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen

Comic books have moved in and out of my life for nearly as long as I remember.

It started in the early ‘60s when my grandfather was in a nursing home in the Bronx. The family would go and visit him, but we kids were not allowed up to the room. As this home was also a hospital and he was bedridden with a bad heart (something that would have been solved easily today with a pacemaker), no one under the age of 12 was allowed up (though I remember going a couple of times). While my parents visited him, my older (and only) brother Richie and I would stay in the lobby-level waiting area by ourselves, or run around the block (something that would be considered practically criminal these days, letting two preteen kids out on the street alone in a strange neighborhood…but I digress). Before we drove up there, my father would give us both a dollar, and we were to spend it on comic books. They were 10 cents each then, so we could each buy 10 of them. We’d sit in the waiting area and after we finished our own, we’d read each other’s (of course, we’d coordinate so we didn’t buy the same ones).

We had lots of them, including some I clearly remember, like the first Hulk, the first Spiderman, original Classics Illustrated, Charlton’s Konga movie adaptation, the first Fantastic Four, and many others of the Silver Age. We read them over and over and over again, at any chance we could. This included after “lights out.” As punishment for getting caught, my dad would rip up the comics. That’s what happened to all those I just mentioned, by the way. I’ll wait while the collective gasps settle.



The next bit of comics I clearly recall is when I went to sleepaway camp, for three weeks each summer from ages 8-15. Comics were 12-15 cents each, so my dad would give me $2-3, and I bought a stack to last me the duration. Usually, there were other kids who did the same, and we’d trade ‘em back and forth. We usually wrote our names in them, so we’d get them back at some point. Invariably, we’d come home with most of ours, and some of others.

One day at Lafayette High School, in Brooklyn, I was sitting in a class across an aisle from someone I didn’t like while reading a DC comic, and looked up and he was reading a Marvel. I’ve been brother-from-another-mother with Bernie Kugel since. I enjoyed narrative stories that were short (single or double issue at most) with the clear artwork of the likes of Wally Wood and Jack Davis (hence, the DC); Bernie was more into the genre as a whole. He appreciated the experimental artwork of Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, and the expansive arcs of stories (hence, the Marvel). It was easier for him though, as his father owned a stationary store, so he had a better chance to seeing stories from beginning to end.

Speaking of experimental, Lafayette, was trying to keep kids from dropping out in the early ‘70s, so they tested different ways by switching out the usual English classes. We took one course in Science Fiction, and another in Comic Books. This latter class was astounding. Phil Seuiling, who opened up the very first comic book retail store ever four short blocks from my house, taught it (it is a Russian liquor store now). Phil also was instrumental in starting the comic cons. He brought famous artists like Gray Morrow and Jim Steranko into the classroom. We went to DC Comics on 53 Street and watched books being drawn and created. At his home, we saw lots of Golden and Silver Age original artwork boards framed on his wall. He got angry, though, when someone knocked one of them off the wall and the frame broke, throwing us out of his apartment. Around that same time, Phil did the voice of one of the police officers (portrayed by a pig) in the Ralph Bakshi film Fritz the Cat (1972), which was rated X, so we could not yet see it. He was fired the next year or the year after for selling a underground comix to someone in the class who was legally underage (the student’s mother turned him in).

While I read comics sporadically after high school and through college, I was not as much into them as I was into the whole nascent CBGB/Max’s Kansas City scene, and spent my money on either buying vinyl, seeing shows, or on putting out my fanzine, FFanzeen.

In 1990, I started working for a Fortune 500 company on 53 Street and Lexington. Bernie, who had moved back from Buffalo with his family four years earlier, was working a couple of blocks away. Once a week, we’d meet at lunch, and rather than eat, we’d go to a comic store a few blocks away. We’d hit the store and get our fix. We even saw David Carradine and his wife there buying books once. It was a heady time for comics, and I had re-discovered my love for Richard Corben, who I had enjoyed in Creepy and Eerie and now his work in such books as Den, and for the crisp, bloodletting of Tim Vigil, especially his Faust series. There was also Batman’s Killing Joke, the Dark Knight series, Concrete, and of course, Watchmen.

On weekends, I would make excursions with the Kugel family to Staten Island where we would hit the mall, and then Jim Hanley’s Universe on New Dorp Lane. When the Universe opened at the Staten Island Mall, we would go to both. (As a sidebar, odds are we were coming in contact with Staten Island author, musician, comic lover, and Hanley Universe employee JD Glass without even knowing it!) When Hanley closed the store at the Mall, they had a massive sale there, and we went crazy buying comics and graphic novels for 90% off. I probably spent $50 that day and came home with a trunkful.

[Faust]
Other than superhero and horror short stories, some of my favorite comics were non-fiction, either serious ones like the original Classics Illustrated series, the Lower East Side tales by Will Eisner, Keiji Kakazawa’s autobiographical Barefoot Gen, Art Spiegelman’s two-part graphic novel, Maus, and the comical look at our past in Larry Gonick’s History of the Universe

These days, I don’t buy comics much anymore, but they remain close to my heart. Due to lack of room, I’m starting to liquidate some of my collection. Many of them are worthless other than enjoyment (i.e., 10 or more copies on sale on eBay for a dime each), and I’ve given quite a bunch away, and still am sorting through. By the end, I’ll probably get rid of a more than a third of them. The fun part is that I am re-reading many from the early ‘70s that I bought during the Phil Seuling years (he would get us discounts). For those who are shocked at this, note that I am not dissolving any of the ones that I keep close to my heart, like Batman, Superman, Faust, Shaloman, comix (Zap! , etc.), EC reprints, and many others. However, I am ditching some of my indie ones, like those by Innovation, Dark Horse, and some one-offs. What I’m saying is that I’ll keep the ones that mean something to me.

Though comic books may be passé to some, so many people I know still are strongly into it. We get together and see the latest film based on the comics, and then discuss. Our big recent debate is whether The Dark Knight or Iron Man (we all gave a collective whoop at the end, after the credits) is better, though it seems as though it is still a DC vs. Marvel issue. For me, they were both great films, and though I remain a Batmaner, I am fond of both cinematic extensions. And I look forward to the Watchman movie with both anticipation and the dread that they may ruin it, like they did 300. I’m keeping my cape and cowl crossed.

A co-interview with writer-musician JD Glass, Pt 2

[JD Glass in Life Underwater]
FFoto by Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen]

JD Glass is having a good year in 2008. Her fourth book is out now, "American Goth". I've read the first two, "Punk Like Me" and "Punk and Zen"; I'm almost done with the third, "Red Lights". Meanwhile, she's continuing to work on her music. And through the new year, we've continued our correspondence. This was published first on her blog, and now I am publishing it on mine.

I don't get to see JD as much as I would like, but I somehow feel better knowing she's in the world. And the characters in her book, as I told her recently in an email, are starting to feel like old and familiar friends, and that's due in large part to JD's character development.

Anyway, here is the second part of the back and forth, MySpace interview:


RBF: As for you, I've seen Life Underwater in various incarnations. Have you played in any other bands, and how would you describe your musical contribution? And I promise you, I will ask more questions about your own novels soon...

JDG: I have played in a few other bands. I started composing songs at 7. When I was 8, my mom left us a tape recorder so we could "tell" her events that happened from the time she left for work until she got home (to save her from us calling her incessantly) and...whoa. I started singing my compositions into the recorder, then stole her guitar (a Yamaha classical that I still have ..) and taught myself how to play, so I could make her buy more tapes every week, since I filled them. That same year, my mother played one of those tapes for a co-worker of hers who played guitar for his local theater group and gave lessons.He didn't believe a kid wrote those - and when he came over so he could evaluate me and give me lessons or something, I did my thing, and instead of giving me lessons, the next thing I knew, my parents were helping me fill out Copyright forms and we actually went to DC to drop them and some tapes off. That was his recommendation.

The next summer saw my "first" band - my brother playing something resembling guitar with me, while my sister and a neighbor sang back up. My very first "real" band was Person-L - I used that name because I, in my mature high school way, thought the corporate world was dehumanizing, reduced us all to numbers, and I wanted to reflect that. What this really meant, was that I wrote songs, a friend of mine and I practiced harmonies on them, and somehow we had a clap machine for a drummer - it was awful, but the melodies and harmonies were actually pretty decent and I mastered my instruments.

A few years later, I was a founding member of the original Adam's Rib (lead guitarist, song writer - I wrote everything but the bass and drum lines, back up and occasional lead singer) formed as a direct response to then lead-singer's boyfriend's band, the very popular Two Minutes Hate. We thought we were political, socially relevant, and egalitarian. It was heaven and hell. Our first drummer quit about two weeks before our first real gig at CBs because her mom didn't want her to play there (which we were all like, WTF? because, heck, we were 19-20 something year olds) so we ended up with the drummer from Two Minutes Hate. We had a great show - a great set. I still have the tape from it somewhere :-)

After our first gig out we were offered an opening slot with the Toasters and Bim Skala Bim (or something like that ..) but instead of rehearsing and finding a new drummer (we couldn't use the one from TMH - weird boyfriend/girlfriend competition politics with the lead singer's boyfriend - again, the lead singer for TMH) they wanted to hang out and get stoned. Me, I don't do that (never did) and next thing I knew? No band. I never really did understand what happened there - and while I recently wondered what would have happened had I "given in," I'm really glad I didn't.

Not too long after that, I joined XXY for a bit and played bass, but the scene was wearying (the lead singer occasionally performed naked and did weird things with microphones. He also like to throw food into the audience - hot dogs, chicken parts, bologna) and while performance art can be very cool, it had nothing to do with the music or the message in it and frankly, I started to feel bad for the chickens ;-) and the waste of food in a world where people are starving to death seemed really anti-punk to me. I got out of that, and did solo projects with some side-man work either singing, or playing guitar or bass, until I became a part of Life Underwater. I've been there ever since, and very happy about that. I get to float between lead and occasional rhythm guitar or bass, and I write the melodies and lyrics, which is what I started out doing in the first place .

..So...you and music. Did you ever pick up an instrument, then do that "required" thing, join a band? Or if you haven't, have you thought about it? Not necessarily the "band" part, but playing an instrument?

RBF: Yeah, I played acoustic guitar for a little while and then tried bass. Found out very quickly that I have zero talent: no sense of chord formation, no sense of rhythm. Worthless. Even for punk rock. I bought a cheap electric bass to jam with Bernie Kugel, who was much more adapt at guitar. We jammed in his bedroom, and called ourselves Les Bien. His mother freaked out: "It sounds too much like lesbians!" Ah, Bensonhurst. So he changed it to The Good, and when he moved to Buffalo to go to college, it became his first popular band (now-actor Vincent Gallo was in the band, and they still keep in touch). Oh, and that bass...in about a year, the neck began to warp, and after the third or fourth fret, you'd need a C-clamp to hold it down. I paid like $40 for it. Probably still have it somewhere.

JDG: If you ever find it, I'd love to take a look at it - you never know, maybe I could fix it ...

RBF: That is why when I started wanting to give back to the scene I was enjoying so much, I started writing about it to promote the bands I enjoyed. No one wanted to print what I was writing, so I figured, screw it, I'll print myself. I had some interviews I had done when I was Arts Editor at Kingsborough College (at The Scepter), and needed a couple more. I walked over to Miriam Linna one night at CBGBs and asked if I could interview her band, The Cramps. She said sure, and I ended up being the last person to interview them before Miriam left. I had them all sign a flyer and used that as my back cover. Some book on the Cramps has the page (uncredited) inside.

JDG: That's amazing - you'll have to post that sometime on your blog so we can all see it.

RBF: So, in any real terms, I never was in a band. Would I want to be? Part of me says yeah, because it's cool, but it's not the kind of work I'm interested in. I'm more happy knowing that people are reading what I write and enjoying my photos. I've had a number of people tell me they like my stuff. In fact, a writer friend of mine, Mary Anne Cassata, once interviewed the lead singer of Iron Maiden, and he voluntarily admitted that he was a big fan of FFanzeen, without Mary Anne even bringing me up. I've never been a Maiden-head, but I have all this mail from them when they toured then-communist Poland. But I've hung out with Joey Ramone more than once, interviewed many musicians I've enjoyed, and know a whole bunch of up and comers. I've interviewed Lynyrd Skynyrd and been calm, and yet was totally stone-mouthed the first time I met Willie Alexander. I may not be in a band, but I have my place among musicians, which is equally fine with me.

JDG: The spot you occupy is an important one - and I'm betting quite a few people agree with that.

RBF: So, I was wondering, just how much is Nina, the main character of most of your books, based on yourself? I can imagine you hanging out at (Jim Hanley's) Universe comic store over on New Dorp. Bernie and I used to go there, too. Also when they had that branch at the Staten Island Mall, but I digress.

JDG: A lot of people ask me that. Nina and I certainly share a lot of background, but then again, I tend to share quite a bit with my main characters. Thing is, they're not me, they're themselves, we've just felt or experienced same or similar things, if that makes sense. And yes, I spent a LOT of time hanging out at Jim Hanley's Universe - in Eltingville, in New Dorp, and I even worked for a little while at the ones in Eltingville and in the Mall. You know, it's funny - you have to wonder how many times you and I probably unknowingly crossed paths before "officially" meeting!

I don't get to hang out there (or anywhere, really) nearly as much as I'd like to, but it's always home to me, and I honor that whenever I can by doing things there, because everything starts in the Universe ...

What's really funny (in a good, irony kind of way) is that the first book I ever wrote (which was a comic book) has finally come out as a novel - American Goth - and in a strange full circle, that main character is going to be in a comic anthology later this year or early next, and more than likely also appear in her own series of sorts afterwards. When that comes out, you can bet Universe will be the first place I go to!

So...do you still read and/or collect comics? What are titles that have appealed to you and still do over the years? And...graphic novels...any faves?

RBF: My first memories of comics dates back to the early '60s, when my grandfather was hospitalized with what would have been easily resolved now with a pacemaker. We weren't allowed in, being kids, so our parents bought my brother and me comics to keep us occupied. I remember having Spidy 1, Hulk 1, Fantastic Four 1, and many others, which were ripped up by my dad when he caught be reading them after I was supposed to be asleep (is that the sound of cringing I hear out there?). Hell, I even loved Charlton and Classic's Illustrated.

JDG: I think I might be having a small seizure, actually! Oh the pain, the pain!

RBF: When I went to high school, I sat across from this kid who we both shared an instant dislike for each other. After about a week, waiting for the class to start, we both took out comics. That was Bernie Kugel, and we've been truly great friends since.

JDG: Isn't if funny how some of the best friendships start out that way?

RBF: Truly. He was more into Marvel, with it's arc stories and envelope-pushing art. I was more into DC, with it's straightforward issue-by-issue stories. Batman was, and still is, a fave.

JDG: Marvel has always been a bit more...psychological...in some aspects. DC has expanded their story telling with their graphic novels and with the Vertigo line...and Batman always rocks ...

RBF: The next semester of high school, we took a class about comics, led by the late Phil Seuling. For those who don't know, Phil had the first comic book-only retail store (20 Ave & 85 St, Brooklyn). He brought us to his home which was covered in original art from the '40 onward, took the class on a field trip to the DC Comics office where we met Jim Steranko (still have my oversided "History of Comics" signed by him...1st edition), and even had guest lecturers like Grey Morrow. A couple years after we graduated, Phil was fired for giving (selling?) a student an underground Robert Crumb comix, after the student's parents complained. I remember him as having a very sharp and occasionally bitter sense of humor.

JDG: Poor Phil!

RBF: I like a lot of indie stuff, but find a lot of it not only badly drawn but sort of esoteric to the point of pointlessness. I'm still a fan of straight lines, as with Concrete, Cadillacs & Dinosaurs, and I also have an appreciation for the beauty of Love & Rockets. Some of my favorite artists are Archie Goodwin and Richard Corben. But the comic art that blew me away was David Quinn and Tim Vigil's Faust: Love of the Damned. Phenomenal work (wish the movie was as well done).

JDG: We're on the same page - and of course, I'm a huge Love & Rockets fan ... I love the way the do homage to the classics like Hank Ketchum.

RBF: Bernie and I used to go to many of the comic stores around the city, even heading over to New Dorp. However, I remember going to the closing sale of JH's Universe at the Staten Island Mall. They were selling their stuff at 60% off one weekend, 70% off the next, and so on. We got there and bought a ton of them when they were at 90%. Even graphic novels. I spent HOURS enjoying them.

I haven't really collected any comics in the past 10 years or so, but recently a co-woker, Ken, gave me a graphic novel of Batman: Dark Victory, which I devoured.

JDG: Any of the Dark Knight works are simply fantastic. And I tend to think DC does graphic novels (like the Watchmen, which will also be a movie) with a grittier intensity than it's "serial" runs.

RBF: Watchmen was an instant classic, totally canon-worthy.

By sheer coincidence, now I work in an office directly across from DC Comics, and I look at all this cool stuff in the windows, like a life-size blow-up Batgirl doll, Superman posters, and a great yellow neon Batman insignia sign that I covet.

JDG: LOL - I wouldn't mind passing those windows!

RBF: Phew, that went on a bit! Now, what I'm reading is a book you may have heard of called Punk & Zen by this wonder author named JD Glass. Though it's fiction, I enjoy that you actually use lyrics that you've written for your group, Life Underwater. That was an interesting choice. What were your thoughts about doing that, mixing fiction and fact? You talked earlier about how some of the events in Nina's life are similar to yours, but this is a lot more direct.

JDG: Now you're making me blush. As to mixing fiction and fact, it seems (and this is a generalization) that most authors, whether they're creating something out of a whole cloth or basing on whatever, do in fact end up mixing fiction and fact.

What I thought when I did that was that it was appropriate - Nina's a musician, and so am I, and there were songs that simply fit perfectly. That, and I'd already started a tradition of naming chapters after songs in Punk Like Me. This seemed like an opportunity for me to really play with that a bit more, give a little more depth to the each chapter.

JD's blog and info can be found here:
www.myspace.com/jdglass

TBC