Reviews – Page 13 – Nicolas Demers

Comic Book Review: Deathlok

Michael Collins was a pacifist and cybernetics expert, who believed his work was being used to develop advanced prostheses for handicapped people. When he discovered that his employers were really building a superpowered killer cyborg code-named “Deathlok,” Collins was murdered and his brain placed inside Deathlok. His mind was thought to have been destroyed; the brain was simply to serve as “wetware” support for the cyborg’s operating system. But Michael Collins was still there, inside, and eventually he regained control of Deathlok. Vowing never to use his powers to kill another living being, he set off to make a new life for himself.

The first issue of Deathlok I read was #16 (October ’92), and I was immediately fascinated. The mind of a pacifist stuck inside a killer machine? Neat! Sure was a nice break from all those other heroes who willingly went fighting crime and actually liked punching it up with villains.

The series’ uniqueness didn’t end there, though. You see, Michael Collins was a Black man, and proud of it; So was one of the writers, Dwayne McDuffie. Black people (characters or writers) are rare enough in comics, let alone Black people who actually make points about racism and other forms of prejudice. However, those points were only irregularly made. The problem was that Deathlok had two writers who took turns scripting: McDuffie, and one Gregory Wright. The stories written by McDuffie (especially the “Souls of Cyber-Folk” storyline, issues #2–5, and Deathlok’s stay in the country of Wakanda, issues #22–25) were more interesting, original, and made the political points. (“The Souls of Cyber-Folk” is a reference to The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois, from which Deathlok quotes in issue #2; the story itself draws parallels between racism and the prejudice experienced by cyborgs and artificial beings.) On the other hand, storylines written by Wright were not so interesting or memorable, with shallow plots heavy on mindless action scenes.

It was a constant struggle throughout the series’ short life: for every reader who loved Michael Collins as a Black hero, as a pacifist hero, there was another reader who thought he was a sissy wimp, and hungered for Deathlok to get back to its roots. See, way back in the 70’s, there was apparently a series called Deathlok the Demolisher, set in a lawless and violent post-apocalyptic future; the title character used to be a US Marine Colonel named Luther Manning who was augmented against his will after being critically injured, and went on to become an ultraviolent anti-hero. More recently (in 1990), Marvel published the adventures of another Deathlok cyborg with the organics and brain of a ruthless and bloodthirsty beat cop and former marine named John Kelly. Taken in that context, a pacifist Deathlok was even more startling. In issue #17, readers learned that Collins’ Deathlok body used to be Kelly’s; his brain had been fried by the onboard computer and replaced by Collins’. At the same time, a backup of Kelly’s personality was reactivated; for a couple of issues it served as Deathlok’s anti-conscience, railing against his pacifistic ways, urging him to be more ruthless, and generally annoying the hell out of Collins and any reader who agreed with him. Kelly’s personality later transferred itself into another cyborg, code-named “Siege,” who made occasional appearances throughout the rest of the series.

The beginning of the end came in issue #31, the start of the 4-part “Cyberstrike” storyline. This weird, confusing story, involving parallel timelines and time paradoxes by the dozen, pitted Michael Collins and Siege against the Luther Manning Deathlok (who never existed in Collins’ timeline) and the Demolisher (i.e.: Manning’s future self) in a crazy and headache-inducing battle royale as they tried to prevent their realities from being destroyed by a power-hungry time-skipping meddler… And that was it. The series ended with this storyline that tried to resolve the paradoxes about all these past, present, alternate-present, and possible-future Deathloks. Not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with a “What the hell?”

It was a tragic waste. A wonderful idea had been lost, probably never to return. Maybe it was doomed from the start, but I don’t feel it was ever given a proper chance. I only wish Marvel’s powers that be had established Dwayne McDuffie as a full-time writer and let him do his own thing, free of constraints. As for those whining losers who only wanted high body counts, they should have been told them to fuck off and go read Spawn or The Punisher.

Comic Book Review: Alpha Flight

What originally got me interested in Alpha Flight was the fact that (a) it was a Canadian superhero group (in fact, the only Canadian superhero group in the Marvel Universe), and (b) it was the only series I knew of then to have an openly gay main character. Being gay myself, I was naturally curious to see how a superpowered queer would be treated. I got into the series only a few months before it folded in early 1994 and, over the next couple of years, collected most back issues, the two annuals, and a couple of team-ups with the X-Men.

The story begins in X-Men #121 (May 1979), when the X-Men travelled to Canada and tussled with Canada’s Official Super-Hero Group, Alpha Flight. These six Canadians had been invented solely to give the X-Men someone to fight but apparently struck a chord with the public and so, four years later, they received their own ongoing monthly series.

All things considered, the series was off to a promising start. John Byrne—the writer and artist for the first 28 issues—did a pretty good job of creating personalities and histories for characters that were nothing more than powers, code names and nifty costumes. He introduced us to the distant and mysterious Snowbird, shapeshifting daughter of northern gods; Sasquatch (Walter Langkowski), a scientist who could transform into a monster; Shaman (Michael Twoyoungmen), a Native man who studied to be a medical doctor and rediscovered the magic of his ancestors late in life; the mutant twin speedsters Northstar and Aurora (Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie Beaubier), her with dual conflicting personalities, him a sarcastic and obnoxious loner; finally, Vindicator (James Hudson), founder and leader of Alpha Flight, wearing a special suit that allowed him to fly and project beams of energy. To this original core of six were added two in issue #1: Puck (Eugene Judd), a midget with excellent fighting skills and a Mysterious Past, and Marrina, an amphibian humanoid with a Mysterious Origin.

The stories weren’t exactly inspired, or even terribly original. Some of the characters were annoying knockoffs: for example, Sasquatch was a gamma-powered shifter like the Hulk, and in fact his origin story has him reproducing Dr. Banner’s experiments with gamma energy. Also, Puck was in my opinion too reminiscent of Wolverine, with the short stature, hairy body, Mysterious Past and unrequited love for a redhead (in this case it was Heather Hudson, Vindicator’s wife and later widow). The dialogue tended to be painfully artificial and expository, as you’d expect from mainstream superhero comics of that era, and the plots contained the usual tired shenanigans of “shocking” twists and retcons… but on the whole I thought they were mostly serviceable, and entertaining enough.

It seems that Northstar had been written as a gay character right from the start, and that his abrasiveness was just a way to hide his feelings and keep others at a distance. But that clue, and others in his personal history, were only there if you knew what you were looking for. In issue #41 (December ’86), there came a huge, not-at-all subtle hint about Northstar’s gayness. More hints followed, about one per issue. “Aha!” I thought. “They”re going to make him come out for sure!” Imagine my surprise when, in issue #50 (September ’87), Northstar’s nature was retconned as being part Elf, and he, Aurora and Puck were suddenly yanked out of the story. If I had to guess, I’d say that the execs at Marvel got a little nervous about this costumed faggot and wanted him gone. Plus, Elf, get it? It’s like, fairy. Yeah, my sides are still splitting.

Northstar stayed gone for two and a half years, returning in issue #81, his gayness forgotten for the moment. It was in issue #106 (March ’92) that he officially came out of the closet. I used to think I’d have a hard time finding that issue since it had to be a valuable collector’s item, but it turns out Alpha Flight was never that popular. I think I eventually got my hands on it for about $10 (Canadian!). “So” you might be thinking, “this is great! It’s a major step forward for gays and lesbians, right? An openly gay superhero is bound to open people’s eyes, make them rethink their positions, right?” Sure, but…

Let’s not beat around the bush: Northstar’s coming out was a joke. Yes, I thought it was done pretty well (a bit preachy, maybe, and it had to happen in the middle of a big fight scene, but there you go). Yes, it caused a reaction. Yes, gay readers loved it. But then Northstar went right back into the closet as fast as he’d come. The words “gay” or “homosexual” weren’t even mentioned once throughout the series’ remaining run. Northstar’s coming out was vaguely mentioned a couple of times, but never using those words: it was just his “revelation.”

If I had to pick a moment, I’d say that’s when Alpha Flight jumped the shark. In retrospect the creative team—never stellar to begin with—had been running on autopilot for a while now, and the last two years of the series’ life were filled with dull, pointless and/or derivative storylines, padded with mindless action scenes or focussing on new and completely uninteresting minor characters.

The 4-part Northstar miniseries, beginning immediately after Alpha Flight‘s last issue, only added insult to injury. I thought now they’d address his gayness. No such luck. It was just a mindless action-oriented plot, with the coming-out obliquely mentioned only once. We did see a former love interest of Northstar’s, but guess what? She was a woman!

Northstar’s brief coming out wasn’t Alpha Flight‘s only opportunity for really interesting and potentially groundbreaking stories, but the writers and management lacked either the balls or the imagination to do more than scratch the surface. There was Sasquatch, who at one point (through a very strange sequence of events) was temporarily transformed into a woman. There was the ongoing issue of Aurora’s multiple personalities, which merged and split and changed at the writers’ whims. There was Kara Kilgrave, an adolescent mutant with purple skin and the power to control minds introduced in issue #41: she left Alpha Flight for a short time to try to have a normal life, but failed miserably. The writers had a golden opportunity to explore what it means to be an outcast and freak.

One thing that doesn’t so much disappoint as piss me right off is the mangled Canadiana. Readers were reminded in almost every issue that John Byrne is an expatriate Canuck… but so what? The stories—even the exposition on Canadian landmarks and history—still all felt written from an outsider’s (ie: U.S.) perspective. I don’t know what a Canadian perspective or sensibility would look like in a superhero comic (or maybe I do?) but I’m sure Alpha Flight didn’t have it. This was not a comic written by us or for us. The geography and history could have been taken out of any high school textbook, what French there was was usually very bad or not real Québecois, and there were even several instances of the writers and artists disrespecting our national heritage with their sloppy work. Look, I’m no flag-waving nationalist, and I realize they didn’t want to make too much of an effort since most of the audience didn’t read French and probably couldn’t find Canada on a map, all tucked away down there. Really, I’m not asking for much: Maybe get the national motto right. Or at least learn to draw the flag correctly. Jesus.

I’m still missing a couple of issues, but have lost interest in searching for them. Neither am I interested in collecting the latest volumes (Alpha Flight was restarted twice; first in 1997, lasting about 30 issues, then in 2004). I hear Northstar temporarily rejoined the Flight in their second incarnation, has been with the X-Men for the last couple of years, and is a lot more out. Well, good for him, but I won’t be following his adventures anymore. If I knew then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t even have started. Alpha Flight never reached much beyond “okay,” and many other comic books have done a better job of portraying queer characters without wimping out.

Movie Review: What The Bleep Do We Know

Tag line: “It’s time to get wise!”

Uh-huh.

I heard about this movie from a friend of mine, who’d seen it, loved it, and urged me to go see it for myself. From the online trailer, and a couple of reviews I’d read, it looked like your typical pretentious yet shallow New Age fluff, and thus a complete waste of my time. Hell, I’d already suffered through half an hour of Waking Life, people! Nobody should have to endure that twice.

Tag line: “It’s time to get wise!”

Uh-huh.

But: This friend is an even bigger skeptic than I am, and every time we saw each other he asked if I’d seen it. When I answered no, he kept insisting I had to see it. Okay, obviously somebody somewhere was missing something, and I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t me. I trusted my friend’s judgement so, even though my expectations weren’t high, I decided I had to go see it for myself. Keep an open mind, right?

My verdict: Bleah. Where do I even start? How about with the lazy, lazy writing? There’s no story here. Most of the movie is taken up by talking heads babbling a lot of platitudes about the wonders and mysteries of Quantum Mechanics and the human mind. Most of what isn’t talking heads is pretty special effects, of atomic nuclei and galaxies and… a sort of wormhole thingy, which maybe was supposed to represent quantum tunneling? I don’t know. Oh, and a shimmering grid occasionally overlaid on the “normal” world, vanishing and reappearing at random, that was supposed to symbolize how illusory the real world is. It looks just like the Enterprise-D’s holodeck grid, except that grid was yellow and this one is blue. A blatant ripoff, in my opinion.

The rest of the movie was taken up by a paper-thin parable, further driving home the messages of the talking heads. The characters are completely two-dimensional, and even that’s probably generous: there’s the Hard-Nosed Skeptic, who eventually starts believing in spite of her better judgement… and for some reason was written as speech-impaired (possibly hearing-impaired as well, though that wasn’t consistently portrayed. More sloppy writing); there’s her roommate (or lover? again, that part wasn’t clear), the Somewhat Ditzy But Nice And Well-Meaning Believer; and you’ve got the Inexplicably Wise Basketball-Playing Kid, who appears out of nowhere to spout yet more wisdom at the Skeptic and coax her “down the rabbit hole.” Viewers may identify with one or more of them to some extent, because they’re so archetypal (to be charitable), but they have no way to really connect with them, or understand what makes them tick. But then, we’re not supposed to connect with these characters. They—along with the talking heads—exist only to serve as mouthpieces for the movie’s Big Message.

And what is that message? The usual New Agey clichés: The denial of objective reality (‘cos we create our own reality, inside our minds and by interacting with the universe, because of quantum); the need for a “new paradigm;” the glorification of mystery over knowledge, and childlike wonder over skepticism; cool-sounding myths that are highly suspect (though not provably false), like the one about Native Caribbean people at first not being able to see Colombus’ ships on the ocean because they’d never seen ships like that before; cool-sounding myths that are provably false, like Transcendental Meditation reducing crime rates. And through it all, very complex topics like QM and cognitive science being either misrepresented or mangled into sweet-tasting sound bites to support these mystical beliefs.

I walked out of the theatre after about 45 minutes; I’d been checking my watch and rolling my eyes for… well, pretty much all of the movie up to that point, really, but the mention of Transcendental Meditation was the last straw.

So what was I supposed to get out of this movie? That the world is a strange and exciting place? Yes, it certainly is. But I already knew that, from reading legitimate science books. That we can be slaves to our own perceptions and assumptions? That it wouldn’t hurt to look at the world with wonder and fresh eyes from time to time? You won’t find me disagreeing. But I believe that movies like What The Bleep Do We Know? are more a distraction than anything else. One may watch it and feel suitably enlightened or at least pleasantly confused, but ultimately the movie offers no genuine substance. Instead it shows some seriously exciting science, hopelessly distorted into a colourful kaleidoscopic jumble that gives lay people only the illusion of understanding. Do you want to see the world and appreciate its beauty? Do you want to change your life, become more than who you are now? Then go out there and do it. You don’t need to waste your time with this vapid mystical fluff. The world is exciting enough without filling your head with other people’s fantasies. As the late, great, Douglas Adams wrote, “Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?”