Book Review: MANHUNT: THE 12-DAY CHASE FOR LINCOLN'S KILLER by James L. Swanson (William Morrow, 2006)

With MANHUNT, Swanson -- whose follow-up production, BLOODY CRIMES, is also on my bedside table at the moment -- provides a romanticized account of the most notoriously "romantic" of American Presidential assassinations and its aftermath. Part of the intrigue surrounding John Wilkes Booth's dramatic killing of Abraham Lincoln stems from the fact that, barring some bad luck and misjudgments, Booth might very easily have gotten away with his crime. In tracing Booth's long, painful journey from the floorboards of Ford's Theatre to Garrett's Tobacco Barn, where the assassin was cornered and shot, Swanson demonstrates why he did not. Swanson does take sides regarding some of the latest historical research (e.g., he portrays Dr. Samuel Mudd, the man who set Booth's broken leg, as being far more of a knowledgeable accomplice of Booth's than the old historical and pop-culture consensus would have it), but, in most particulars, he approaches the project as a simple story-teller, rather than as an academician with a point to prove. The manuscript could have done with one final proofread -- tenses are sometimes mixed up, and the same telegram is quoted twice in two separate places in the narrative -- and a few more detailed maps of Booth's escape route would have been appreciated. Still, this is an excellent and, at times, hair-raising read.

Comics Review: UNCLE $CROOGE #398 (December 2010, Boom! Kids)

Well, it took three issues, but the current "we're-pretending-it's-a-story-arc-to-justify-a-paperback-collection-but-it-really-ain't-so," "Messes Become Successes," finally lives down to its name (the first part of it, at least) with this issue's lead (and leaden) tale, "The Belt of Time." This Brazilian story was originally published in 1993 -- a bit late in the game to be entering this particular field of play -- and, despite the fact that only a what Scrooge would term a "wee handful" of DT epics were ever produced in Brazil, its sheer tiredness is more appropriate for the tail-end of the Egmont or Disney Studio DT output. Wearing Gyro Gearloose's time-traveling "century belt," Launchpad bips and bops out of several scenes as counterpoint to Scrooge and HD&L racing Flintheart Glomgold to the Andes to claim the rights to a "frozen super-ape" trapped in an ice cave. Anyone who has seen the Darkwing Duck episode "Extinct Possibility" and can guess the climactic twist is hereby excused. Actually, it's not the plot, blah as it is, that truly fails here (thanks to the ever-energetic contributions of David Gerstein and Jonathan Gray); rather, it's Haroldo Guimaraes' artwork, which would have been much better suited to one of the four-page "quickie" stories that ran in the old DUCKTALES activity magazine. Given the high quality of some of the recently-published, previously-unseen DT tales, I find it difficult to believe that "The Belt of Time" was the best of the leftover lot. This may be an indication that the upcoming 400th issue of $CROOGE, with its promised turn in a more "classical" direction, may be arriving none too soon.

Speaking of "classics," who's the talented fellow who provided the backup story for this issue? Carl Banks? No, he played football for the Giants. Karl Marx? Nope, the guest star is a capitalist who, while irritating at times, is not evil. Could it be... why, yes, indeed, it's The Old Duck Man himself, Carl Barks, bearing a "Christmas present" (so trumpeted by Boom! -- though they probably shouldn't have encouraged the simultaneous enjoyment of "a nice glass of eggnog," given the number of youngsters that may be reading this) in the form of the ten-pager "Christmas Cheers" (WDC&S #268, January 1963). Even a relatively minor Barks Christmas story is an occasion for rejoicing -- not to mention a nice foreshadowing of some of the "vintage treats" that Boom! has in store for us in 2011. This is one of those cleverly-woven Barks tales in which multiple individuals/entities want very different things -- Scrooge a gold mine, HD&L a "science set," Donald a dump truck (a real one, not a toy one -- don't be silly!), and the City of Duckburg a badly-overdue street-paving job -- and the plot-dominoes topple in such a way that everyone gets what they want, but not necessarily in the manner in which they want it. We also get what some (and I don't want to know who, thank you) might term "fan service" in the form of several panels' worth of the naked Nephews toweling off in a tub. Great fun, and a much-appreciated gift to the long-term fans.

Movie Review: HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS, PART ONE (Warner Bros., 2010)

I certainly didn't envy the managers of the Harry Potter movie franchise their task in bringing this movie to the screen. HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS received decidedly mixed reviews when it was published, and one of the main objections to the massive tome was the inordinate amount of time spent in the early portion of the book on what fittingly became known as "The Camping Trip From Hell" -- viz. Harry, Ron, and Hermione's long sojourn in the English countryside as they (1) try to find and destroy the remaining Horcruxes containing the pieces of Lord Voldemort's soul and (2) feast on a heaping plate of blood-raw teen angst, complete with jealous misunderstandings. The decision to split the movie version of DEATHLY HALLOWS into two parts (with the other slated to be released next Summer) thus guaranteed that Part One would be a long, hard, depressing slog, made all the more difficult to endure by the fact that the familiar supporting characters only make brief appearances. Director David Yates certainly gets the gloomy tone of the "Camping Trip" right, but not even Frank Capra at his corniest would have been able to inject much color into this mix. The concluding scene -- one of the few actual action scenes in the movie -- works well; there's a touching moment at the start in which a grieving Hermione wipes her parents' memories of her clean in order to protect them from Voldemort and the Death Eaters; and the brief dance sequence between Harry and Hermione (in the absence of the fuming, jealous Ron) is a warm reminder of the strong friendship that exists between them. Other than these, however, truly memorable highlights are conspicuous by their absence, and there's a definite sense 0f time-marking while we wait for the upcoming Battle of Hogwarts to commence.

While the movie-makers have to take the blame for the consequences of the decision to make Deathly Hallows: The Movie a "two-fer," the other major problem that becomes clear during the film is a direct result of what I consider to be J.K. Rowling's primary mistake while constructing the Potter series. I have always felt that Voldemort regained his full powers too quickly; the inevitable result was that, the longer he was allowed to hold a piece of the stage, the more he would come to resemble "super-villains" that we all know and loathe -- and, in some cases, are distressingly easy to parody. Deathly Hallows 1's opening "board meeting" with Voldemort and the main Death Eaters comes across like nothing so much as one of Blofeld's SPECTRE meetings in an early James Bond film, or, taking things to another level (or depth), a "conference table" scene with Dr. Evil. Even if Voldemort did not actually say, "This organization does not tolerate failure" or "Throw me a frickin' bone here!", I'm sure that some people were letting their minds wander along those lines. Voldemort's grotesque physical appearance also works against him the longer he is permitted to be visible; all sorts of jokes about "Ol' Turtle Face" immediately come to mind. J.R.R. Tolkien's decision to let the Dark Lord Sauron work entirely through intermediaries looks better all the time. My own preference would have been to have had Voldemort's "full recovery" coincide with Dumbledore's death in some way. Of course, that might have required DEATHLY HALLOWS to be even thicker, but we might have gained something back through the excision of some of the camping-trip padding in the seventh volume... which, among other things, would have given this well-intentioned but glum visual entry the added energy it so desperately needed.

Comics Review: CHIP AND DALE'S RESCUE RANGERS #1 (December 2010, Boom! Studios)

All due apology to GeoX -- who, in his latest post, waxed properly eloquent about all the good things that Boom! Studios will be offering to "classic" Disney comics enthusiasts next year as part of the "Boom 2.0" roll-out -- but C&DRR #1 may be the single most important comic that Boom!'s Disney "arm" has published to date. "The Duck Knight Returns" got plenty of attention from the wider comics-reading world, as well it should have, but the folks who snapped that arc up probably included a lot of people who were already general comics collectors, in particular of superhero titles. The new C&DRR, by contrast, has the potential to draw a lot of people back into collecting Disney comics who may have dropped off the radar after Disney canceled the first version of the title in 1991. The cohort of remarkably loyal C&DRR fans who frequent The Acorn Cafe and other haunts have been waiting for a new wave of "officially sanctioned" C&DRR material for quite some time. If Boom! hits the mark with this title -- and, judging by the first issue, the omens look very favorable indeed -- then a whole new cohort of readers will climb on board the Boom! bandwagon at precisely the time when the line's overall "creative vector" is pointing due north. You've heard of "synergy," I suppose? This could be "it," whatever "it" is.

The splash panel that appears on pages 4 and 5 of Ian Brill and Leonel Castellani's "Worldwide Rescue, Part One" definitely indicates that Boom! "gets it" regarding what is expected from this title. As enjoyable as the Disney Comics work of Scott Saavedra, Tom and Mary Bierbaum, and the Jaime Diaz Studio was, it -- much like the DUCKTALES stories produced by William Van Horn and John Lustig -- was rather sui generis, veering somewhat far afield from the parameters established by the TV series. Such major villains as Fat Cat and Professor Nimnul didn't appear very often -- in the case of the overused "Mr. Fat," that actually was something of a relief -- while minor players like The Pi-Rats, Bubbles ("The Case of the Cola Cult"), and Dale's pipistrell paramour Foxglove ("Good Times, Bat Times") fared little better, not even getting much "muzzle time" in the C&DRR stories that ran in DISNEY ADVENTURES DIGEST. Now, however, after 20 years of fanfics and such, C&DRR fans have a very clear idea of the full potential of the show's extended cast, and they want to see these characters used in "authorized" stories. I count Castellani's splash, with its mass gallery of series regulars and much-loved one-shotters, as the comics equivalent of an olive branch thrown to the fans, and as a very politic way of reassuring them that none of their favorites will be forsaken. (So, too, is the sepia-toned opening flashback sequence in which a young Gadget saves her aviator father Geegaw -- a character who'd never made an "official" appearance anywhere, save in fanfics, prior to this -- from drowning by throwing together a doohickey.)

"Worldwide Rescue," with its scenario of "animals gone wild" all over the world -- perhaps due to misuse of an "Animal Rescue Signal" device constructed way back when by a group of critters that included Geegaw -- bids fair to include a rarity for "official" C&DRR stories, namely, a globe-girdling mission with a purpose. One complaint that I always had about the TV series was that, when the writers wanted to put the Rangers in another country -- or even such an exotic setting as Hawaii -- they simply tossed them in headfirst, with little to no backstory being provided. Scott Saavedra did a story line called "Rangers Coast to Coast" for Disney Comics, but even that consisted of a bunch of pretty much unrelated plots hooked together. The Rangers' quest to reassemble the "Super Key" that will enable them to enter the A.R.S. and find out who's misusing it (actually, we already have a clue as to who's behind the scheme, but maybe others are involved as well) gives this story a strong "throughline" that should sustain it well. It's already clear that some of the places and critters that the Rangers will be visiting will leave the door wide open for logical appearances by familiar faces. Part 1's final panel sees a dramatic appearance by several of said faces, and, given that the "animals gone wild" include a pack of Brazilian bats, I think I can guess who might be flying in to follow them. A "true" C&DRR story also includes some manner of character conflict, and Brill gives us one here. Monterey Jack's sudden (and temporary) abandonment of the gang -- and Chip's sharp reaction to it -- shows that Brill has definitely been paying attention to the fact that good characterization is one of the reasons why the Rangers are so popular. Castellani's artwork is, quite simply, magnificent -- the best C&DRR comic art I've ever seen, by far -- so we should have no worries on that score.

The only shadow I can cast on this otherwise "scathingly brilliant" first ish is that some CD&RR fans whom I've seen comment on the release have said that they might be willing to wait to buy it (gasp!) until the collected paperback is issued. Now, I can't imagine why any fan who's been awaiting new C&DRR material for years would be willing to wait even that long while the new stuff is sitting on the shelves, but the poor economy may be playing a role in the decision. In any event, this situation does illustrate that releasing so much recently published material in collected form may sometimes rebound to the line's overall disadvantage, especially when there is a built-in audience for such material.

Comics Review: WALT DISNEY'S COMICS AND STORIES #713 (November 2010, Boom! Kids)

Oh, no! Not the Goofy Family Album... story! And from the hitherto adventure-minded Casty, no less. It's a little early in the game to say for sure, but "Mickey Mouse and the Menace from the Future," the first part of which appears here, bids fair to be the most overtly humorous Casty story to date. I mean, how seriously can you take a scenario in which what appears to be an Astro-Boy-booted secret agent (from the future?... maybe) is hypnotizing Goofy's relatives, all of whom are in town to help their cousin make an eggplant-flavored soda to enter in the Mouseton "Invent the World's Wildest Soda Pop" contest? All the Goof men have different versions of the famed Goofy laugh, even the Cockney fellow from England named Dogueberry. From the manner in which Agent Uma's bosses advise her about her mission -- they describe Goofy, head of "The Bubblebrains" (sounds like a foe of Underdog to me), as a "destroyer of worlds" (an' maybe houses an' movie sets, hyuck!) -- it would seem as if "Purple Rain Punch" might be a super-fuel or super-explosive of some sort. In that case, Pete's presence in the plot (as a fellow contestant and would-be prize-stealer) suggests that he might move in on the substance at some point. This story seems so weird, however, that any speculation seems as foolhardy as entrusting Goofy with the "nuclear football." Scripter David Gerstein certainly gets into the free spirit of the thing, throwing in references to Buffalo Springfield, Mary Poppins, the United Negro College Fund... he may even have added some ingredients to the eggplant soda, for all I know. I can't wait to see how this one shakes out.

The main feature is backed up by the five-page early-90s Brazilian story "A Goofy Look at Romance," drawn in a pleasantly sketchy style by Aluir Amancio, whose credits include storyboard work on a number of the classic Warner Bros. animated series of the 1990s. It's more elaborate than #709's "A Goofy Look at UFOs" but in much the same GOOFY ADVENTURES-inspired spirit -- perhaps even more so, since it includes a "mini-costume role" for The Goof as Casanova (the mind reels... that is, until you note that the only women attracted to him are of the Goof-lookalike persuasion). Nice job by Saida Temafonte on the dialogue, too.

Comics Review: MICKEY MOUSE AND FRIENDS #302 (November 2010, Boom! Studios)

Sergio Badino and Giorgio Cavazzano's "Legend of the Robo-Presidents" turns out to have been a more substantial epic than I'd thought. I was expecting another "half-and-half" deal here, with one story closing and another opening; instead, "Robo-Presidents" takes up all the space. In said space, we learn that The Phantom Blot has retrofitted the giant robot Presidents that inventor Borzon Gutglum had been commissioned to build to complement the newly-sculpted Mount Rushmore attraction (make sure to read that again, slowly) with the help of software designed by Gutglum's slightly wayward grandson. For all of The Blot's pleonastic, pompous pedantry (at least translator Saida Temafonte is consistent on this score; s/he used the same characterization for vastly different versions of The Blot in the ULTRAHEROES and WIZARDS OF MICKEY tales), the villain's plot is what he himself might call a "dreadfully banal" strike at the gold in Fort Knox. This comes, it should be noted, on the heels of The Blot's channeling of Hugo Drax in Casty's "Mickey Mouse and the Orbiting Nightmare." Honestly, if The Blot's new image as an intellectual is to be taken entirely seriously, then he really should be above ripping off schemes by James Bond villains, much less relying on the help of goons with names like "Billy Bob." The Blot, in the tradition of Pinky and the Brain, seems not to realize that the flying Robo-Presidents couldn't possibly get off the ground if they were truly "stuffed" with gold, but at least he has writer Badino to blame for that little oversight. Morty and Ferdie get a rare chance to fill the HD&L hero role, and, as you might guess, the "Nintenduck" obsession that they displayed in #301 winds up being a key to the good guys finally winning. An absurd story, to be sure, but oddly engaging, with Cavazzano's energetic art, as always, a point in its favor.

In the wake of The Blot's appearing without his black hood and cloak throughout the WIZARDS OF MICKEY sequence and in civvies in part two of "Mickey Mouse and the Orbiting Nightmare," his partially-unmasked status here is notable. Once he captures Mickey, Minnie, Morty, and Ferdie, he pulls off his hood and spends the rest of the story with his head showing above the cloak. I suppose that this is an "Italian thing," and, after mulling over the events of both this story and "Orbiting Nightmare," it's a "thing" that I actually do understand. The Blot can't pretend that absolutely no one knows what he looks like anymore (otherwise, why use a disguise to infiltrate Space Hotel Olympus in the first place?) and, while he can still rely on the "full effect" of his costume to produce some "fright value," there is no real reason why his face can't be regularly shown. This, of course, provides the writers with a challenge, to make The Blot's schemes really imaginative so as to compensate for the "loss of mystery." If The Blot's next caper involves "toppling" Mousetonian rockets or swallowing up Duckburgian space capsules, then he has every right to lodge a protest.