POP-CULTURE COLUMN: Reruns Left Us Feeling Burned
By Dan Brown The word “rerun” as it applies to a repeated episode of a network TV show is quickly disappearing from the English language. Yet viewers have never watched more reruns, meaning old content. There are entire channels now devoted to repeats. There was a time, in the 1970s, when viewers hated them. Cast your mind back to an era before streaming, before satellite TV, before cable, when the schedule for network sitcoms and dramas ran roughly parallel to the school calendar. The new season of a show would debut in September, there would be a Christmas episode, things would wrap up in May as summer approached. This was my childhood. Shows didn’t just start up any old time. There were no full seasons dumped at once. Back then, the unspoken contract the networks had with the audience at home was, there would be a new episode every week of a series like, say, Happy Days. For whatever reason, sometimes a new episode wouldn’t be available. Production delays was the most common excuse. One of the options available to programmers was to broadcast an episode that had previously aired. But they did so at their peril. That’s because viewers hated, hated, hated when this happened. The refrain you would hear is, “I’ve already seen this episode! I know what happens!” No one wanted to see the Fonz date the same girl twice. I do realize all of this must sound like an ancient-history lesson to younger readers who can’t imagine a time when repeated episodes were a big problem. That’s likely because the idea of appointment viewing isn’t a thing anymore, except for some reality shows. This was a period when your favourite show was on at the same time, same day, every week. And you had to be home in front of your boob tube to see it. Then a strange thing happened in the 1990s when specialty cable channels proliferated. They needed a cheap way to fill out their schedules. Suddenly, there were entire channels devoted to nothing except reruns – Three’s Company, Soap, the Simpsons, you name it. I joked at the time that we only hated reruns when they were free. Once we had to pay for them, they became a legit viewing choice. Fast-forward through the eras of grey-market satellite dishes, legal satellite dishes, and now streaming and YouTube. In a sense, everything we watch is a rerun of one stripe or another. Some of the most popular shows are old, whether it’s Breaking Bad or the Sopranos or Mad Men. The difference is, programs such as these were made with a radically dissimilar mindset. In the network-dominated television world of the 1970s, any single episode was an ephemeral thing, expected to live only for a week in the public’s imagination. These shows were made as cheaply as possible. But just look at a typical episode of, say, the Sopranos. The production values aren’t the same as when Gilligan’s Island first aired, no, the way the Sopranos was shot has more in common with a feature film than a series of old. That stems from today’s producers understanding their creations will automatically have an afterlife, even on a format or channel or service that doesn’t exist yet. I don’t know what comes after streaming. In his graphic novel The Private Eye (which L.A. Mood’s Graphic Novel Group is discussing this Saturday), set decades from now, writer Brian K. Vaughan anticipates a future format of ceiling-to-floor television called tee vee. And sure enough, in one scene there are characters watching an old episode of The Big Bang Theory on the tee vee. Maybe holograms are the future? If that turns out to be the case, be prepared to watch a lot of holograms of old shows you’ve seen many times before. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
GRAPHIC-NOVEL COLUMN: Some No. 1s Are Different Than Others
By Dan Brown I call it the Spinner Rack of Your Dreams. It’s a second-hand comic rack that sits at home in my basement, which I have dubbed not the Man Cave, but the Dan Cave. My wife spraypainted it silver before I set the display up. It looks fantastic, but still lacks a topper – you know, the metal box that has “Hey kids! Comics!” painted on the sides. For the last several years I’ve been stocking it with the No. 1 issues that come into my comic collection. Why do I have a spinner rack in my basement? Because it makes the space feel like a comic store, and comic stores are my happy place. Many times when I’m downstairs I will add a comic or two to the issues on display, which I rotate in and out of the most prominent spot at the front of each individual plastic display case. Reflecting my tastes, two sides are devoted to Marvel No. 1s, one to DC debut issues and one to comics from independent publishers like Dark Horse, Eclipse, Image, and Pacific Comics. Most of the books are from the 1970s and 1980s. You see, I don’t collect old comics for their value, but the way they make me feel like a kid again. Stored on the rack are a few, I suppose, that are worth something. There’s a Moon Knight No. 1 from 1980. The copy of Black Panther No. 1 I have likely went up in value after the first Marvel movie of the same name came out. There’s Ms. Marvel, Nova and Spider-Woman, as well as Red Sonja. The most-represented comic creator is Jacky Kirby, who did the No. 1 covers for titles like the Eternals, Destroyer Duck, Kamandi, and Sandman. I have the Todd McFarlane-drawn Spider-Man No. 1, which I include on the display as a joke – after Marvel flooded the market in 1990 with that book, the issue plunged in value to the point of worthlessness. There are sentimental favourites, like my copy of Alpha Flight, Marvel’s Canadian superhero team. Also by John Byrne, one of my favourite artist/writers, is Doomsday+1 No. 1 from Charlton. And yes, I have the requisite copy of Watchmen No. 1 I have No. 1s of both the Savage She-Hulk and the Sensational She-Hulk. I’ve got the Thing No. 1 and Marvel Two-in-One No. 1, Ben Grimm being my favourite superhero. I don’t have to tell diehard comic fans how collectors fall into different categories. Some collect to make money, even if comics aren’t a surefire way to get a good return on investment. Some don’t care about the condition of their comics, they want to read them over and over. Some people love them as objets d’art. I probably fall into that category. I also realize, one No. 1 is not the same as another. They were not all created equal. I hate how Marvel, I guess to attract speculators, has been putting out a new No. 1 anytime a different creative team takes over a long-running title. Maybe it makes for a slight sales bump, but they are also devaluing the currency of all No. 1s since the upshot is that inaugural issues are becoming ubiquitous. In any given month, the so-called House of Ideas puts out a truckload of No. 1s, which disturbs the purist in me. Things really were different when I was young. Also, let’s not forget that a No. 1 from back in the day is usually not the best issue from that series, nor does it always contain the origin story of the title character. In Captain Canuck No. 1, for instance, you won’t find any mention of Tom Evans gaining the strength of two ordinary men after he was blasted with an alien ray because that detail wasn’t revealed until he had a few adventures under his belt. But as long as it has a No. 1 on the front, it’s fair game for the Spinner Rack of Your Dreams! I don’t make the rules . . . oh, wait, yes I do. Would love to hear your take. What’s your favourite No. 1? And while you’re at it, let me know the reasons why YOU collect comic books! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
The Many Stages of Building LEGO as a Grown-up
By Dan Brown Last weekend I put together a LEGO set. It was a time. Here, for the benefit of readers, are the 12 steps one goes through as an adult while making a LEGO Mars Rover. Just in case you’re thinking of doing the same thing. For the record, I built the smallest, cheapest Rover that goes for less than $20, not the other massive Mars vehicles the Danish toy company sells for hundreds of dollars. I thought the small one would be easy. STEP ONE: Carried along by memories of boyhood fun with friends and your brother, you eagerly rip open the plastic package, being careful not to lose any of the pieces that spill onto the coffee table in your living room. “Really?” you think, “That dinky little toy has so many components? There’s gotta be a thousand of them.” Regardless, you still look forward to what you anticipate will be, at most, 20 minutes of mindless fun. STEP TWO: With your spirit bolstered by pure enthusiasm, you pull out the construction instructions to unfold them. It dimly registers that there are 18 stages, printed on both sides of a wide glossy sheet, plus a large number of those stages have sub-stages. That’s a lot of work for a vehicle that’s not much bigger than a baseball! But you are not daunted. STEP THREE: Mashing a few small pieces together, you begin to suspect LEGO instructions are kind of like IKEA furniture-building directions. Since LEGO is a global brand, despite its origins in Denmark, the instructions are necessarily vague pictograms you are finding less and less helpful as the afternoon stretches on. In particular, you curse the colouring as you try to make the small pieces fit together, noting you can’t tell the difference between black and grey components on the instruction sheet. There are a lot of each colour. STEP FOUR: You stare at the instructions, your eyes growing blurry. Damn, this is more difficult than you thought it would be! STEP FIVE: You feel your thumbs growing raw from handling the tiny, unforgiving, sharp-at-the-corners plastic pieces. Your mind wanders. You find yourself pondering the length of time it takes for calluses to form on your fingers. STEP SIX: You run your rough hands over the pieces on the coffee table, once more trying to sort them by shape and colour. Not for the first time, you swear the makers of this particular package of LEGO must have left out that one crucial component you’re searching for. Desperate, you ask your wife, seated beside you on the couch reading a paperback romantasy, if she can see it anywhere on the table. STEP SEVEN: Just as you run out of hope, your feeble eyes spot it. Like every other time you swore a piece was missing, it was not. You decide it’s time to take a break. Your shoulders have begun to ache and you feel as though you’ve been hunched over for a couple hours – because you have been. You know you will benefit from getting some mental space. You go into the bedroom to play with your two cats, dozing without a care on the bed. STEP EIGHT: Back from the bedroom, you lock a few more pieces into place. You fear making this tiny toy is slowly, inevitably becoming a career for you. STEP NINE: Time for a booze break! You ask your wife if she will join you for a shot of something strong. She chooses a whiskey from the nearby liquor cabinet that is infused with the essence of black walnuts. You scarf the shot down, hoping it will fortify you with courage until the LEGO building is done for the day. Back at it. STEP TEN: You’ve pretty much given up consulting the instructions. Instead, you rely on the photo plastered on the ripped-open package for guidance. Your wife notes one of the key pieces you added 20 minutes ago is in the wrong place. You take this in stride, knowing your marriage is built on a solid foundation of love, respect, trust, and walnut whiskey. STEP ELEVEN: You throw in the towel for good, letting your wife know she is welcome to complete the final stages of this particular LEGO build. Sweetheart that she is, she seems to have little trouble doing so, finishing up in short order STEP TWELVE: Staring at the six-wheeled model in your hand, you realize you also bought two other LEGO sets, which are waiting patiently in their packages to be assembled. Does it ever end? Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Pop Culture: Will 2026 Be the Year It All Happens?
By Dan Brown Like a cornered she-wolf protecting her pups, the New Year is upon us. This week, I’m in the mood to look ahead and ask – what’s going to be the biggest thing in pop culture in 2026? What event, person, or product will define the next 12 months? Will movie theatres sell even fewer tickets? Will Taylor and Travis tie the knot? Will people continue to exit social media? What will the song of the summer be? What will the most-popular film, meme, TV series, book, and podcast be? Only someone who is deluded or dangerous would give answers to those questions with 100 per cent certainty. So while I don’t have an all-powerful crystal ball, I do have some thoughts. For starters, AI. If last year is any indication, the advocates who are pushing artificial intelligence on the rest of us will crack on. Their goal: Making the general public think AI is inevitable. But from what I’ve seen so far, I’m not impressed by tools like ChatGPT and Gemini. I’m a skeptic on this one, so the question for me is: What are the odds the AI bubble will burst before 2027 a la the dotcom downturn of the 1990s? Merriam-Webster Dictionary got it right when their editors chose “slop” as the one word that defines 2025. If present trends continue, perhaps the word of 2026 will be “crap” or “crud.” At the movie theatres, people are buying fewer tickets. The entertainment data firm EntTelligence, quoted in the Los Angeles Times this week, says there were 800 million theatre tickets sold in 2024, but 760 million sold in 2025. (Those figures are for the U.S., I’m assuming.) Even the higher figure doesn’t match pre-pandemic levels. There may be more people watching movies this year, they just aren’t watching them at the multiplex. One motion picture that I am looking forward to seeing on the big screen is Christopher Nolan’s adaptation of The Odyssey, which is not a prequel to 2001. It arrives July 17. It could be interesting. As for the much-memed Avengers: Doomsday, I’m still on the fence. Other questions on my mind: Which entertainment figure will the Trump administration go after, as the U.S. President did with Jimmy Kimmel last year? What effect will Trump have on the proposed sale of the venerable Warner Bros. studio to Netflix? (He’s already said he will be involved in the federal government’s approval process.) You also can’t discount the stuff that happens in any given year that nobody saw coming. The obvious example from last year would be the December slaying of director Rob Reiner, whose filmography included one of the best motion-picture comedies of all time, This is Spinal Tap, as well as The Princess Bride, When Harry Met Sally, Stand By Me, and Misery. What will the big concert tour be? Which comedian will survive being cancelled? Will a seeming generation of stars – last year it was Robert Redford, Diane Keaton, Brigitte Bardot, and Ozzy Osbourne – pass into history before our eyes? Will something as simple as an album cover provoke controversy, as Sabrina Carpenter’s Man’s Best Friend did last August? Whatever happens, I will be here to document it all. And here’s hoping 2026 brings us more happy surprises than tragic ones! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
The Year in Comics, 2025 Edition
By Dan Brown Another year gone! That means it’s time again to pick out the highlights from the last 12 months in the comics and graphic-novel world. As I always say when introducing the annual list, the categories are entirely my own invention, the choices reflect my tastes and no else’s, and I would love to see you chime in with your own picks! Best graphic novel of the year: Contenders include Jeff Lemire’s 10,000 Ink Stains (more of a memoir than a graphic novel, I know), Guy Delisle’s Muybridge and David Petersen’s Mouse Guard: Dawn of the Black Axe (yes, I know it will be several weeks before it appears in collected form), but I am going with D. Boyd’s Denniveniquity, which recounts the creator’s misadventures growing up in 1970s New Brunswick. I was transported back in time to a different Canada, and the book’s central character made me laugh! Best comic of the year: I’m going to say the J.Michael Straczynski-written Doctor Doom & Rocket Raccoon No. 1, in which the Latverian ruler drafts the genetically engineered rodent to help him travel back to a time before the Big Bang to understand the purpose of the universe. It includes a Jack Kirby-inspired collage, which got me excited. Local comics coming on strong: With offerings like Scott Wojcik and Jeff McClinchey’s Probed and Loaded, as well as Jeff McClinchey and Scott Brian Woods’ Black Helm Saga, it was a strong year for local creators. Speaking of which, Byron comic creator Jeff Lemire took over art duties on Skottie Young’s I Hate Fairyland this year! Best graphic novel I read this year not from this year: The second volume of Chip Zdarsky’s Public Domain came out in February, collecting previously published issues. As I wrote, “it’s a sophomore collection that enriches the storyline of an ongoing comic series, putting the characters in new and surprising situations.” Best comic adaptation of the year: The Sook-Yin Lee version of Chester Brown’s Paying For It came to London in 2025, and it stayed with me long after I saw it last winter. Brown himself sat a couple rows over. Most underwhelming comic adaptation: This is a tie between this summer’s Superman and Fantastic Four: First Steps. There, I said it. These movies were popular for about one second, and consider this: The best character in Superman is Krypto, the superdog. The most intriguing character in Fantastic Four is Doctor Doom, who is in the thing for like half a second. Blerg. Comic adaptations still hanging in: Despite all the talk of superhero fatigue, there were four such motion pictures in the domestic box office’s Top 12 for 2025: Superman (No. 3), Fantastic Four (No. 7), Captain America; Brave New World (No. 10), and Thunderbolts (No. 12). What was cool for comic fans is that for Superman and the FF movie, magazine-sized digests were published showing the stories that inspired each movie. Most confusing comic marketing: As part of the industry crossover involving the two biggest comic companies, DC released the one-shot Batman Deadpool and Marvel released Deadpool Batman. Got it? These were two different things. Creators involved with the making of these titles had to take to social media to combat the resulting confusion. Best local comics-marketing move: Joe Ollmann helped put together Bonk’d Volume 1, which collects work from Hamilton-based and -connected comic creators (Ollmann also has The Woodchipper coming out next year, his latest collection of short stories, which I am eagerly anticipating). Comic villain of the year: Alberta Premier Danielle Smith took aim at graphic novels in school libraries, particularly the ones depicting LGBTQ relationships. I thought we were done with comic witch hunts in the 1950s, but apparently not. Biggest comics-adjacent development of the year: Netflix’s animated movie K-Pop Demon Hunters has caused quite a stir, although I have yet to see it. Now, it’s over to you! Tell me in the comments about your picks for this year! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
A Small Thing but an Important Thing
By Dan Brown I miss “the wave.” What I’m talking about has nothing to do with standing up at the right time at a sporting event, I don’t mean that wave. What I’m referring to is a tiny gesture that has everything to do with courtesy on the road and making our divided world just a little more humane. If you’re a veteran driver like I am, who has had a license for 40 years, you likely have seen “the wave.” It goes like this. Let’s say you’re stuck in busy traffic and some car from a side street is trying to ease into your lane. Good Samaritan that you are, you stop going forward to let them in. As they pull into the path ahead of you, they stick a hand out the driver’s side window and motion in your direction. That’s “the wave.” And it’s disappearing. Which is a sad comment on where we’re at as a society. The wave, as I call it, is more than just a gesture. Sometimes it’s accompanied by a smile from the other driver, who is acknowledging that by letting them in you have done them a solid. It’s a way, from one stranger to another, of wordlessly saying, “I appreciate you, man, thanks!” After all, you don’t know that other driver. Allowing them some space ahead of your vehicle is not something you’re required to do by law – I do it because I recognize they may be having a tough day, and it costs me almost nothing, maybe a few seconds, to be courteous. And some day, I’ll be in the same position. I’ll be the one having a rough time who needs a small break from the universe in the form of a kindly fellow commuter. Many people have said chivalry is dead, and the wave is one way of acknowledging the chivalrous spirit. It’s the opposite of road rage – it’s road gratitude. (It reminds me of another driving habit, flashing your high beams to oncoming cars when you pass a police speed trap, but that might be a country thing.) There’s even song about small driving kindnesses by the group Geggy Tah, who sing: All I want to do is to thank you/ Even though I don't know who you are/ You let me change lanes/ While I was driving in my car. The wave is like saying, “Thank you” when the person ahead of you holds a door open for you when you’re entering a building. They weren’t mandated by law to do that. I hope I don’t overstate the case, but it’s one of those tiny things that makes life in a city such as London tolerable, enjoyable even. And I’m worried, since I haven’t seen it for some time. I haven’t been keeping detailed notes, but I would say in the last year or two I’ve let a fair number of people in ahead of me in traffic on my daily drive to and from work. But something’s missing. No wave. That’s why I’m troubled. Those other drivers don’t appear to feel any impetus to wave anymore. I think I’m being just as gracious a driver as I’ve always been. And I’m driving as much as I always did. But I suppose it could be my fault. Perhaps people fell out of the habit during the pandemic. If so, screw you COVID-19. Or maybe distracted driving is such a problem that people aren’t paying enough attention to lift their hand for just a second or two. Maybe tinted windows play a part. Or perhaps those drivers feel entitled to butt in ahead of me in traffic. All are possible. In fairness, I will say there is one group of drivers who can still be counted on to give the wave: School-bus operators. If you want to see another human being light up on your morning commute, obey the law and stop when a school bus in the other lane has its lights flashing. And those bus drivers certainly don’t have to wave to you! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
