Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Surviving Hollywood's Killing Joke

Why Alan Moore's immeasurably brilliant comics should be best left alone.

It is the well-worn rule of most cinematic novel adaptations- that they may all turn out to be uniformly inferior to their source. Unless, of course, the people at the helm of these adaptations might be, say, Francis Ford Coppola, David Lynch, Stanley Kubrick or Paul Thomas Anderson, who turn great, challenging masterworks of literature into genuinely great and challenging films themselves. 

And yet while many iconic writers have been lucky to have such filmmakers either stay true or give their own take to their fantastic tales (except for Stephen King, who dismissed Kubrick's magnificent 'The Shining'), it is a glaring tragedy to see how one of the greatest comic-book writers gets a raw deal in terms of his influential and incendiary work handed over to utter amateurs making a grand mess of them all.


An elusive, enigmatic personality, embodied physically by that legendary lion's mane and those devilish eyes that might give lily-livered readers the creeps, Alan Moore was the man who radicalized the comic book genre of American literature. So far, comics were thought as infantile pulp fiction, bringing life to the fervent fantasies of adolescent boys. Sure, Moore was not alone- fellow wizards Frank Miller, Grant Morrison, Len Wein and Neil Gaiman were also experimenting with the template and pushed the boundaries brilliantly. But few- repeat, none- have brought the staggering narrative depth, pop culture critique and reflexive genre satire that the wild-eyed Englishman from Northampton brought to panel grids and speech bubbles. 


I, as a fervent fanboy, credit him solely for bringing me back to the crazy, chaotic yet stimulating world of comics. And yet, Moore has done that, time and again, by tweaking, playing and finally breaking the rules that define the very essence of this section of modern literature. While he has often smashed the superhero-genre mould by debunking the myths of masked protectors and guardians, he has also ushered in a darker style of storytelling that has also transmuted itself to much of the recent superhero cinema in many ways. While he brought in unbridled grittiness and sexuality into comic book pages, he has also doffed his hat, delightfully at the old-school tropes; check out his colourfully charming limited series '1963' for great digs at the Marvel comics of the 60s and you can also spot nods at previous masters Jack Kirby and Jerry Siegel in his extraordinary work for the DC Comics Universe in the 1980s. While he invented a new form of graphic storytelling, bursting with politics, social commentary, weighty philosophy and satire, he also proved that comics could still be a hell lot of perverse fun- just read any one of his rollicking 'League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen' volumes and you will get the idea.

And yet, he has always the misfortune of seeing his finest work made into shoddy, ill-conceived films that somehow miss the gist of what he originally wanted to portray.


I haven't yet seen the film version of his dark, dank and dystopian masterpiece 'From Hell' but the choice of casting A-lister Johnny Depp as Frederick Abberline, who was originally a portly, frustrated inspector stumbling on the bitterly dark truth of the Jack The Ripper murders, itself makes me doubt that it will be even half as good. Then, Stephen Norrington's 'League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen' took only a few cues from the said series of violently enthralling and sexually ribald steam-punk adventures and turned it into a mediocre action film enlivened only by Naseeruddin Shah. James McTigue turned 'V For Vendetta' and its rich, provocative anti-Thatcher politics into a cliched and ham-fisted modern-day parable that felt hardly relevant. And finally, there was the crime of all crimes- fanboy Zack Snyder turning the great, great 'Watchmen' into a supposedly dark superhero yarn that only piled on gore and sex without ever realizing why the book used them in the first place.

And, as if that was not enough, they just murdered the classic Batman story 'The Killing Joke'.


Expectations were high, indeed. Bruce Timm, one of the brilliant execs who had thought up the unforgettably iconic 'Batman- The Animated Series' back in the 90s, was at the helm of this too and had roped in the same crew as well. Having Kevin Conroy back as Batman's voice was a treat, as was having Mark Hamill again (yes, I mean our very own Luke Skywalker) for the snarling voice of The Joker. And the inevitable question hovered in our heads- will this direct-to-video animated film be the perfect adaptation of a Moore story?

The answer is 'NO'.

The decisions that 'Batman- The Killing Joke' makes are giant errors. To begin with, the deservingly lambasted first act of the film has a terrible, almost cliched sub-plot involving Batman, Batgirl aka Barbara Gordon and…um…a one-night stand between the two. Yes, I wish I was kidding. God alone knows what is the purpose of this lengthy prelude, which begins with Batgirl, trying to chase down some typical criminals and also being harassed at office by colleagues who ask her about her sex life. And one night, after trying her valiant best to kick ass, she falls for the Caped Crusader in painfully sexist fashion and the two make out without even a shred of real eroticism.

The problem is here of two things. Firstly, this totally redundant prologue disrupts the pace of the rich narrative of the source that follows. Secondly, if the makers intended it as a ploy to develop Batgirl more credibly, well even on that level the ploy misfires. Moore did not need to dwell too much on Barbara Gordon to make us feel for her subsequent disaster and his plot stuck mainly with unveiling Batman's darker, psychopathic side and revealing the hidden broken heart of The Joker. This new plot track, as well as the little but glaring detours from the narrative, merely nails Batgirl as a typical damsel in distress and totally not worth the empathy of the audience.


And by the way, what is wrong with the artwork, guys? The true beauty of the book was Brian Bolland's unforgettably mesmerizing and menacing panels that brought to life the great prose accompanying them. One of the most noticeable virtues of the story was how visually stunning it felt- the panels soaked in scarlet, orange and inky blue and teeming with chaos and texture- from the dark shadows of the Arkham Asylum to the murky gloom of The Joker's tenement house to the psychedelic pathos that the villain unleashes on Commissioner Gordon right down to the much-debated rain-soaked climax. There was a nifty perspective in Bolland's process- shifting thrillingly from The Joker grinning devilishly to men chomping on shrimps in a crowded bar. There is none of that dazzle in the film and the frames merely look grey, dull and unexciting. Also, for some strange reasons, the backdrops are utterly lifeless and static. This was never the case, even with the seminal animated series episodes that were bursting with menace and personality.

None of this will matter to the many virgins, who are obviously even unaware about the comic book or its legacy as a story that would shape other forms of its genre as well as films made on the hero. I would not be surprised if many people would have already started to hail this as something subversive. They are obviously being ignorant. The real blame should go to the people at Warner Brothers and DC, who are allowing many a legendary comic book to be abused at the hands of amateurs who don't even understand their brilliance.

To my horror, I discovered that Brian Azzarello, an ace comics writer in his own right, was the one who decided to pen this sloppy adaptation of the book and it was he who decided to go for that disastrous first act as well. Yet, this is hardly surprising. Azzarello is, after all, one of the many solid DC writers who were roped in to create the despicable 'Before Watchmen' series, which needlessly set out to explore the background stories of each of the iconic characters. Why? Moore had already provided us enough material and Dave Gibbons had ensured that his drawings and creations remained unforgettable. Why all this needless plundering of the excellent source? It could all be a continued part of DC Comics to cash in on the sheer legacy of the graphic novel. I can almost imagine the great bearded writer glaring his fiery-eyes at all the mess that they have made of his work.

The solution would be to leave them all alone. Someone- preferably a lover of these books- should go ahead and tell people like Azzarello, Snyder, the Wachowskis and pretty much everyone in DC Comics to stop trying to sound as fanboys and instead focus on some other things. Moore's comics are a treasure for us, lovers of the panels and strips, and it would be best if you leave them alone, and let us all read them and get entranced into a world of darkness, poetry and storytelling brilliance.

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