Tall Tale Features / Tall Tale Radio

This one has always been a favorite of mine. I’m a huge “Beowulf” fan, and as I was thinking about fairy tales and such, it struck me that “Gretl” was awfully close to “Grendel” and therefore this image came to mind. I’m really happy with the drawing and the gag here, but at the same time, it sort of shows the limitations of “BookSmarts” for a wider audience. I’m relying on the audience to not only have read “Beowulf,” but to remember that the villain of the piece is a monster called “Grendel.” Even for an English major, this is relatively obscure stuff.  Funny, but obscure. (If I wasn’t so attracted to those two words working together, I’d have been rich ages ago.)

To make things even more obscure, I followed the one above with this one, with no explanation:

These two together might be the high point of “BookSmarts” for me. I love the art, I love the gags, I love the obscurity, I love that nine English majors with specialization in old English poetry are laughing their asses off.  Granted, if I want to make a living, I should probably be thinking a LITTLE broader about my audience, but hey, this is how the brain works.

Allow me here to plug the amazing work done by my friend Lex Fajardo, who also saw something in “Beowulf,” but turned his passion into an amazing young-adult graphic novel series called “Kid Beowulf” which you can see here.  He’s on Book 2 of a major epic series, and shows that maybe I’m wrong about this whole “no one will get what I do” spiel I go off on. Lex’s work is inspiring, beautiful, and worth a look.

I’m certainly not the first artist to do this sort of thing, but this was among my first “BookSmarts,” and it started a fairly common theme that wound its way through my work. Essentially, “Hollywood Sucks.”  Now, that’s a gross overstatement of course. Not all of Hollywood sucks…there are certainly shining examples of how good movies can be made from time to time. (Those times being 1939 and 1962, apparently.) But usually, when Hollywood gets a hold of a classic piece of literature or at least a decent story, they seem to drop the ball on a fairly regular basis.

Can’t you just see Michael Bay (who is, by the way, a demon of some sort sent here to dull our minds and spirits…beware him) pitching this idea? “It’s “Little Red Riding Hood,” but this time she’s pissed and has big guns. And there’s this big thing…a robot maybe…and it goes VRROOOMMM! And then it explodes…and…”  Well, you get the idea.

Now, I’m all for interesting takes on old stories, and the word “reboot” doesn’t immediately send me running for the hills. I’m a case-by-case basis sort of guy. Some ideas are worth re-examining. I’m personally calling for someone to finally make a good “Logan’s Run.” I think that movie has a great premise and just needs a little updating.  Some ideas on the other hand, not so much. “Planet of the Apes,” anyone?

So…I just gave you $150 million bucks and challenged you to find a movie you could remake or reboot…what do you choose?

Well, like Orson Wells peaked with “Citizen Kane,” his first movie, I may have peaked on my first day at Comic Con.  I don’t want to get too hero-worshippy, as the guy is an artist and cartoonist, not the Dali Lama…but still, this is Berke Breathed we’re talking about.  “Bloom County” was to me, and countless other cartoonists around my age, THE comic strip. The art was inspiring, the humor brilliant, the writing tight, and the characters memorable. We all quote famous movies or TV shows, and I can quote “Bloom County” much the same way.

I’ve written Mr. B several times, and he’s written very nice responses back. I’ve conducted two email interviews with him, and we’ve come thisclose to getting him on the show. He knew my name right away when I introduced myself, gave me a warm smile and a firm handshake, and then signed my copy of Volume 1 of the hard bound “Bloom County” compendium, which has now pretty much become a family heirloom. It was a wonderful Convention moment, and one of the reasons you should go to things like this. They can be madhouses, but they can bridge gaps between creators and fans, and give us a chance to, for just a moment, look them in the eye and say “thank you.”  There’s not a comic on the planet I’ve enjoyed more than “Bloom County;” “The Far Side” runs a close second…but if I’m on a desert island, I’m taking all of these hardcover editions of the complete series with me.

As they say, if there’s no pictures, it didn’t happen, so here they are:

Berke signing while I’m waiting on line for him. Left handed! Therefore a genius like myself.

Chatting with another adoring fan. He’s doing three days of signings after this…I wonder how perky he’ll be on Saturday?

He posed nicely for a photo, taken by the wonderful Lucas Turnbloom, who got his book signed right after mine.

I also bought a limited edition Comic Con special shirt of Opus and Bill the Cat dressed up in a mish mosh of sci-fi/comic characters which you can see here (I love that Bill the Cat is wearing a stormtrooper helmet as a diaper):

This one was fairly obvious, at least to a cartoonist doing a single panel strip based on literature.  I mean, where DID that phrase come from? It’s not like Dickens was writing horror novels…”scared the Poe” out of you, I’d understand. “Scared the Gorey” out of you…fine. But Dickens?  Sure, he haunted my freshman year of high school when “Great Expectations” was unceremoniously dumped on us. Granted, I’ve since come to appreciate ol’ Charles a lot more as an adult, but the scars from freshman English run deep.

I like the layout of this one, and the drawing of Dickens is pretty good.  He’s in a great “falling” position, and I think you can tell who he is, which is key.  And I like that he’s sort of “phasing” out of that guy’s calves. I’m not thrilled with the other two guys, but the tree is decent. I like drawing trees. Hmmm…a comic strip about a tree…someone get Scott Metzger on the line.

I also like the surreal idea that there’s a classical writer inside all of us. Who would you like to inhabit you? Shakespeare’s an obvious choice for me, but I’m going with P.G. Wodehouse. Damn, that guy was funny.

I’m not one for predictions, psychics, and fortune tellers. At best, I’m with Yoda…”always in motion is the future.” I find some of that stuff fun to read about, and certainly, there are some interesting coincidences and weird occurances. But if I wrote down a bunch of predictions for the futures and someone read them 200 years from now, I’m bound to have gotten some right. Besides, does the position of the planet Neptune REALLY have any effect on my finances? I mean, c’mon. (Jupiter, now…that would be a different subject.)

I’ve always thought that if there are real psychics…and there may be…they’re not opening stores where they read sucker’s palms for $5 a pop.  They live in Monaco, Vegas, or Reno.  They play the stock market. They’re at the horse track. They are rich, enjoying life, and could care less about your palm.  The best way to test this would be to go to one of those psychic’s stores, sit down across from them, and then suddenly try to smack them across the head with a rubber chicken.  If they calmly raise an arm to block the chicken, then you know you’ve got the real deal on your hand.

Then, say “well done,” and get up and leave. Because I can’t think of much creepier than knowing your future.

I have a book called “Shakespearean Insults.”  Yes, that’s right…there’s so many of them, they could compile a book. Now, a lot of Shakespeare’s language and phrasing goes right over modern audience’s heads, even those of us with English degrees who are supposed to understand that stuff. It really is like a foreign language…I’ve found that when I’ve been reading or seeing his plays, I get back into the groove and rhythm of the words, and I have no problems keeping up.  But if it’s been a few years, man, I’ll sit there with a quizzical look like the guy next to me who was obviously dragged there by his girlfriend in vain hopes of instilling a drop of culture into his neanderthal mind. At least people die on a regular basis in most of the plays.  That I can keep up with.

Anyway, I had a blast writing this one.  I’m a baseball fan, and thinking of Bill back there shouting Elizabethan obscenities just cracked me up. And who doesn’t like the word “wastral?”  I mean, c’mon.

From a cartoon perspective, unlike the recent 7 dwarves joke I posted, I have never liked this drawing for a second. I have no idea why I didn’t redraw it. The composition and layout isn’t too bad, but I just don’t like the execution.  Too lazy to draw a crowd, too, I suppose. What, is Bill the only guy standing behind home plate? and there’s no fence or netting? Where IS this game being played?  I feel that this strip is just another sign post on the “you should be writing and leave the art to more talented folks” road.  To paraphrase Opus the Penguin, “Maybe it wasn’t that bad, but Lord it wasn’t good.”

This one and the Edgar Allen Poe one did send me down an interesting creative road, though…I have had an idea for a comic strip called “Writer’s Block” where the conceit is that the action takes place in an apartment building where all the tenants are famous literary figures. It started with the idea of an “Odd Couple” pairing of Edgar Allen Poe, the Felix Unger of the idea, and Bill Shakespeare, the boorish actor/writer Oscar Madison type.  I don’t know why, but the idea of them as roomies just felt rife with comedic potential.  Look! I created yet another unsyndacateable idea! I think I just wanted to put those doodles I did of Bill Shakespeare in my college English classes to good use….

This was another one from the first group of ‘toons I did, and I have always been rather proud of the art here.  We all know how it is when you get something in your head and how hard it can be to make that vision come true.  We often come close, or we make changes somewhere, or we fail miserably. (That is sadly the case all too often.)  But now and then you see something in your head, and you manage to get it down on paper. I saw a semi-circle of dwarves standing solemnly around the graves of their poor brothers, and darn it, I drew it.  (I did just notice that the third dwarf from the top looks like Kenny Rogers dressed as Han Solo.  Maybe that wasn’t exactly what I saw in my head after all…)

Fairy tales are funny when you really examine them. I mean, I know that sort of defeats the purpose because they’re meant to be allegorical and symbolic, but where’s the fun in that? Why DO 7 midgets live in a forest? Are they brothers? Did they just choose to live together until they were old men, or is this some sort of weird sex commune? They’re miners who dig up precious gems and gold on a regular basis, but they live in a disgusting hovel. What are they doing with the gems? Are they paying off some sort of old gambling debt?

Of course, the humor in this one comes from wondering if there were other brothers? And why did they die? One can only assume Dopey is next in line. I mean, the guy works works in a mine with all sorts of dangerous equipment…it’s amazing he’s made it this far, really.

My own personal name for this one is “The Litmus Test.” Humor is a difficult thing, at best. What cracks one person up might leave another person wondering what the first person is smoking. I’ve always felt that if you want to be a cartoonist, you have to follow the basic rule of “do what makes you laugh.”  Sometimes, that might leave people scratching their heads, utterly unmoved, or even at times angry. But, you have to be true to yourself and your humor, or you’ll end up creating something that’s no better than the most boring sitcom created by committee. You have to be willing to put something out there that might not be immediately obvious or flat out funny.

This comic is such a thing. It was the 2nd one I posted, and although it really make me laugh, I knew it was a little…esoteric. Someone had to know about the nursery rhyme character Jack Horner (probably most people), that he liked to sit in corners (maybe a little fewer people), and that if there were no corners to sit in that it would drive him utterly insane (possibly just Tom).  But, dammit, this one cracked me up. Partially because you have to wonder who would want to drive Jack mad? What did he ever do but sit quietly in the corner eating his Christmas pie? Is it some sort of conspiracy? Is this “Jack Horner Meets Jack Bauer?”

The best part really is that nursery rhymes themselves often have a very dark side to them, often being based entirely on extremely disturbing events or folklore.  “Ring Around the Rosie” referred to the red ring that appeared around the pustules created by the Black Plague, usually right before death; hence the verse “Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down.” (If you have children, and you hear them singing this song, you will barely be able to repress a shudder. “The Little Mermaid” ends up having her heart broken by the indifferent Prince and ends up dissolving into foam. (Make THAT movie, Disney.) And don’t get me started on “The Little Match Girl.”  So, the idea of maybe someone from the movie “Saw” creating a room solely designed to drive Jack Horner insane? Funny.

If you laughed, you passed my Litmus Test.  You get my slightly skewed sense of humor. If you didn’t laugh, you probably need to stick to Garfield. And you also won’t be surprised that no one was beating a path to my door to offer me a syndication contract.

This was the first one. I was thinking about doing a webcomic back in the summer of 2004, and started researching the various alternatives. Mostly it seemed to be “make your own site,” and quite honestly, as computer literate as I am, I’m not really a web designer type, and it just seemed like an awful lot of work.  “I’m an artist, not a doctor, Jim!”

I stumbled on Comics Sherpa, and it seemed perfect. Pay them a small amount of money, they do the work, give me an archive, and a place to get comments. (As I have noted in many shows on the subject, I have nothing but praise for Sherpa. It is what it is, and was a great place to start, and I met so many great artists who’ve become friends since then.)  So…I had the place…now I needed the comic.  I had a couple of strip ideas, but nothing I really felt had any merit. I wanted to do something with characters, having been raised on “Bloom County” and “Calvin and Hobbes.”

So, of course, I created a single panel.

Now, don’t get me wrong. The other part of my holy triad is Gary Larson’s “Far Side.” I love the single panel gag. “Bizarro” and “Speed Bump” are utterly brilliant. But I wasn’t seeking to create one. But I was sitting at the drawing table, thinking of idea, when the above cartoon came to me. What would happen if Cinderella was just a little slow getting out of that pumpkin?  Maybe her watch was a little slow.  The crime scene came to me immediately. Suddenly, I had a new take on a classic story, a new angle, a new perspective. It made me laugh out loud. My Dad was a New York City cop for 33 years, too, so it made me happy to start off with some cops in the comic.

The germ of an idea came to me…what if THIS was the comic I should make? A single panel comic based on fairy tales? I was a HUGE fan of “Fractured Fairy Tales” from the Bullwinkle show, and those old Warner Brothers cartoons where they’d make fun of fairy tales and books? Brilliant. I wondered if there was something here, so I figured I would sit and try to write more of these. Was “Cinderella” a one-off gag? Could fairy tales and literature be enough for me to work with? (Hey, I had to use my English degree from Arizona State for SOMETHING.)  After about an hour, I had like 20 idea jotted down.  I was on to something here. Something that would fail to capture the imaginations of syndicate editors completely, but still…something I had a ton of fun with.

I loosened up the art over time, but the first ones were very tightly drawn, with a lot of cross hatching details. I changed later to be much sketchier, which I enjoyed, but there’s some good stuff in here. (I’m not sure a lot of detectives actually show up wearing trench coats, fedoras, and smoking, but it’s a classic image.)

I know Hollywood is always looking for something established that they can glom onto.  I appreciate that literally hundreds of millions of dollars are at risk here, and honestly, if I was running a studio, I’m not sure I wouldn’t be only willing to bet that sort of money on a project that has some sort of existing fan base or track record.  People clamor for the “new,” but let’s see YOU put $150 million bucks into a script about four monkeys and a nun who solve mysteries in space.

However, as much as I love video games and such, is anyone really surprised that movies about them don’t do well? I’m not in the Ebert “video games aren’t art” camp, but neither am I in the “Halo 2 changed my life, man” camp. Granted, as premises go, an adventure set in the exotic desert of Persia with a hunky (and awfully Caucasian) lead and an intensely hot (and awfully Caucasian) princess is a pretty decent jumping off point. But is it enough for the target audience to elevate it past the “dude! I loved that game” stage into something they really want to watch? As I write this, “Prince of Persia” has made $88 million. Sounds great, right? Well, they probably spent $50 million in marketing alone, so no…that’s not great.  Figure in interest, cost of film reproduction, etc, and this movie tanked fairly impressively. (Overseas box office and DVD sales might save it from being a disaster, and Hollywood is nothing if not creative in their accounting practices. They could probably claim “Avatar” lost money and that Pauly Shore’s “Biodome” made $100 million.  AND they’d have the data to prove it somehow.)

Anyway, a movie about “a pillar of power that repels any and all attacks upon it, sending balls of primordial energy back at its hapless opponents” is inevitable. And hopefully, the last nail in that genre’s coffin.