But What About the Movie?
By Dan Brown Movie advertising in 2025 is about everything but the movie. What I mean is, the folks in Tinseltown who devise campaigns to advertise big-budget motion pictures, like the latest Mission: Impossible and the upcoming Superman, want the public to be aware of some important details – that have little to do with the content of each film. Why is this a problem? Because Hollywood isn’t exactly doing blockbuster business in the age of streaming. Let me make clear at the outset that I’ve never worked in marketing: This is a civilian take from someone who has never made a movie ad or trailer in his life. All I’m basing my thoughts on are my decades of experience as a moviegoer and movie fan. Let’s start with the obvious example, the publicity campaign for Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, which landed in theatres last month. Whether you’ve seen it yet or not, you already know one thing about this sequel – that Tom Cruise did his own stunt work. You know this factoid because long before Cruise appeared at the Cannes Film Festival or on TV chat shows, Cruise was bragging about it in online clips that appeared while he was still on location two years ago. What he didn’t talk about while hanging off a brightly coloured biplane was the movie’s premise, or his acting in it, or the script. Or any other detail. Doing his own stunts may be a foolish thing for an actor to do, I don’t know, but I do know it’s an odd claim to make since an action star risking certain death in real life and Cruise’s character risking his on-screen life are two different things. What are we supposed to do with this knowledge? Or think of it this way: Did anyone who bought a ticket to see Final Reckoning walk out of the theatre and say to their date, “That movie was pretty mediocre, but I’m just glad knowing Tom Cruise risked life and limb to make it.” As Peter Suderman over at Reason magazine said in his review, the Mission: Impossible films are “ extravagant stunt spectacles, powered by the awe of watching an aging movie star appear to risk his life for our entertainment.” Not by the plot, or the camera work, or anything else intrinsic to the movie. Another example. As Cruise did, many movie actors appear on TV shows like The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon to drum up interest in their latest work. One question that always comes up while this promoting goes on is how much fun the performers had while making the upcoming feature. This must be very important, as I have never once heard a celebrity plugging the fact they had a bad time on set. There are inevitably anecdotes about what a riot it was to work on the production, and if George Clooney is involved in any way, there will be a story about how he pulled pranks on his co-stars during shooting. Again, does this factor in anyone’s decision to see a particular film over another? Does anyone exiting the movie say, “That was a fantastic film, and knowing the cast had a fun time makes me want to see it again.” Not to be cold, but I don't care. As a moviegoer I just want to be entertained. If a movie is strong, it doesn’t matter to me whether the cast was having fun or utterly miserable. I don’t care. I just want my money’s worth of entertainment. Heck, Martin Sheen had a heart attack during the filming of Apocalypse Now, which can’t have been fun, but I don’t think that fact alone interfered with anyone’s enjoyment or non-enjoyment of the Vietnam War epic. A final example. Word has also reached my online feeds, maybe yours too, how actor David Corenswet put on a large amount of muscle while preparing to play Superman in the James Gunn-directed picture that will reset the DC cinematic universe this summer. These posts show Corenswet pumping iron. Again, I’m not sure what to do with this news nugget. It would be like, if Raging Bull was released today, the studio first released video of Robert De Niro stuffing his face in order to gain the necessary weight to play Jake LaMotta in his over-the-hill years. If publicity tactics like these come across as acts of desperation to you, then I agree. What happened to traditional trailers that tried to give you a sense of the flavour of the film, that boasted about intriguing characters, talented directors and the script’s twists and turns? All of this is another sign Hollywood is in crisis, with the big studios still hurting from the pandemic years and unable to supply a compelling answer to the rise of streaming as the dominant method of entertainment. They’ll do anything to put butts in seats. Now, I’m no marketing genius. But I do see one ploy the Hollywood big brains haven’t used yet that just might work: Try making better movies. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 32 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Snoopy’s Brother is a Tragic Figure
By Dan Brown Snoopy: Doghouse Tales is the new Peanuts collection aimed at young readers. I’m not young, but I enjoyed it. I’m a fool for Snoopy, as well as his little bird buddy Woodstock. I recommend this one if you want to learn more about Snoopy’s family – not the human one Charlie Brown belongs to, but Snoopy’s dog siblings. A fair number of the strips in this 172-page collection feature Spike, one of Snoopy’s brothers. Spike has always struck me as a tragic figure, so kids might learn some empathy reading this one. What do we know about Spike, apart from the fact he is Snoopy’s bro? Here’s a few details I gleaned from Doghouse Tales. He lives in the Mojave Desert near Needles, California. He has droopy eyes plus droopy whiskers, which look like a sad moustache. He’s rail thin. (It’s Snoopy’s brother Olaf who looks like he swallowed a Butterball turkey whole). He wears a bedraggled old fedora, which was once his grandfather’s fishing hat.. And there’s also something else important that readers learn – Spike has no human friends or family, no Charlie Brown figure in his life. And no Sally or Lucy or Linus, either. This is a large part of why my heart goes out to him: He seems so alone. Whenever we see Spike in his element, he’s surrounded only by sand and cacti. And as we know from the tree that munches on Charlie Brown’s kites, plants in the Peanuts universe can be menacing. Sure enough, in one of the collected strips a cactus catches a football Spike has thrown – it slowly deflates when it gets punctured by the cactus needles. It’s a contrast to other moments, as when a cactus holds an umbrella to shield Spike from a rare rainstorm in the desert. You know Charles Schulz was a powerful cartoonist and storyteller when he is able to invest a minor character like Spike with so much personality. It’s also interesting to see that while Spike has an active imagination, he has no full-on flights of fantasy the same way Snoopy does. Spike never takes a trip in his mind to the First World War battlefield, he is always stuck in the now. In one of his letters to Snoopy, Spike describes his circumstances, writing “Life here on the desert is hard but wonderful. Sometimes it is very hot. And the nights can be cold . . . But there are always beautiful places to walk and things to see.” That sounds like a spartan existence, but not without its charms. I’m constantly amazed at how Schulz was able to grind out newspaper strip after strip over the decades. I’m guessing such characters as Spike offered him a bit of a respite, allowing him to take a break from drawing cartoons about the “main” Peanuts gang by exercising a different set of storytelling muscles. There are the usual shenanigans in this anthology too. Lucy continues to vex pitcher/manager Charlie Brown from the outfield by blowing routine baseball plays. Peppermint Patty continues to receive D-minus grades, at one point being held back a grade before she is reinstated the following September, much to her friend Marci’s chagrin. In another four-panel sequence, Snoopy lets loose as a dancer, calling himself a “Flashbeagle,” which gives you some sense of when these strips originally appeared – around the time the 1983 flick Flashdance was in theatres. Doghouse Tales is published by Andrews McMeel Syndication. Purists will note the strips appear here in colour, not in black-and-white as they originally did Monday to Friday in daily newspapers. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 32 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Why I Love Character Actors Like George Wendt
By Dan Brown “Norm!” If that one word brings to your mind the image of a rumpled figure plopping down on his favourite bar stool to wearily take the first sip from a mug of draft, then George Wendt can go to his reward knowing he did a good job. If you watched television in the 1980s and 1990s, you will know Wendt as the performer who brought everyone’s favourite wise-cracking barfly to life on Cheers, the sitcom featuring a group of lovable losers in a Boston bar. Wendt, who died May 20 at the age of 76, was Emmy-nominated six times for playing the role of Norm Peterson, which earned him a spot in the pop-culture canon. His example also demonstrates how the right character actor can make an entire series come alive. Wendt so expertly inhabited Peterson that it’s impossible to imagine any other player in the same part. That’s why I love character actors. They are so talented, they can make something special out of a nothing role. I’m talking about your George Wendts, your Stanley Tuccis, your Stephen Roots, your Judy Greers. These B-listers are geniuses for doing the improbable: They make a living as actors without ever getting typecast. Give me a skilled character actor over a leading man or lady any day. I find them much more interesting than any Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, or Sandra Bullock. The best character actors exemplify Morgan Freeman’s maxim that “Steady work is better than stardom.” The thing about a guy like Cruise is, I can’t relate to him. His enduring good looks, flawless body, and smooth patter give me pause because I don’t know anybody who has stayed as perfectly preserved as he has over the decades. In the final analysis, such perfection on the big or small screen is just boring. After Cheers went off the air in 1993, Wendt had a second act on Broadway in productions of Elf, Hairspray and Breakfast at Tiffany’s, plus he continued to be a perpetual guest-star on shows as different as The Larry Sanders Show, Fresh Off The Boat, and Spin City. A Second City alum, Wendt became an unofficial cast member on Saturday Night Live for a number of episodes. Talk about versatility! It certainly didn’t hurt Wendt when the Cheers producers would assign him a juicy zinger for the cold open of many an episode. The harried Peterson’s desire, or perhaps need, to grab a beer as soon as he walked through the door helped cement his Everyman appeal. Male viewers may have wanted to be Ted Danson’s Sam Malone, but in their hearts they knew they were really more like Norm. Whatever you want to call George Wendt, he wasn’t a “star.”. He was a working actor who played his part so lovingly he wormed his way into the collective memory. He proved the truism that there are no small roles, just small actors. So raise a glass to George Wendt and the other character actors we love. They may not win the biggest awards, but they steal scenes left and right. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 32 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Boyd’s New Graphic Memoir is so Groovy
By Dan Brown. If you’re a child of the 1970s, you’re going to love D. Boyd’s Denniveniquity. This new graphic memoir covers the years 1977 to 1980 in the comic creator’s life growing up in Saint John. Boyd, now a Montrealer, captures the Me Decade better than any other artist, on par with filmmaker Richard Linklater – the guy who directed Dazed and Confused. The book begins when button-nosed Dawn is in Grade 7. She has a crush on movie star Gene Wilder and has seen Star Wars three times. Her favourite band is Trooper. Boys like to grab her developing breasts – “WONKA WONKA!!” one yells as he assaults her in the school hallway. Her mother is relentlessly negative. “You’re too young to look so matronly,” she chides. “Boys are only going to want one thing from you.” The book follows Dawn as she navigates each new grade. There are moments of glee, as when classmate Robbie Allen calls her on the phone at home. And moments of frustration: “Isn’t there anything I’m good at?” she wonders after failing to master downhill skiing. Denniveniquity rewards close reading. Each panel is carefully crafted to reinforce the feel of the era in which Dawn grows up. If, like me, the first full decade you lived through was the 1970s, this book is going to be a thrill. Boyd packs each panel with detail. There’s an April Wine T-shirt. A scene at a Trooper concert (there’s also a discussion of the proper way to pronounce lead singer Ra McGuire’s first name). Keen-eyed readers will also spot a reference to Meco’s galactic funk on the back of a newspaper page. Farrah Fawcett-Majors gets a mention, as do TV shows like Soap and Grizzly Adams, and the Hamilton band Teenage Head. It was the decade of faux wood panelling on station wagons, Participaction, KMart, Joe Clark, Jimmy Carter, the Amityville Horror, and Fotonovels. In one explosive splash panel, as the New Year’s countdown approaches and 1980 beckons, Dawn sees the pop culture of her childhood flash before her eyes. “Wow, the ’70s are over,” she marvels. “That was most of my childhood.” And, of course, Dawn gets drunk for the first time by invading her parents’ liquor cabinet in the basement bar. Nor can her young mind understand the unwritten rules of friendship and dating. “Whatever I like about him seems to be the same thing I hate about him,” she says of her on-again, off-again boyfriend Nick. But more than getting the specifics of the 1970s in Canada right, Denniveniquity nails the sensation of how time passes for a young person. Boyd pulls this off by omitting clunky transitions, just as the developing brain does. She glides effortlessly from one scene to the next, and the reader never feels something is missing. It all makes sense. The only other comic creator who was able to do the same as masterfully is Gilbert Hernandez with his childhood recollections in Marble Season. Denniveniquity covers some of the same ground as Boyd’s 2019 book Chicken Rising, but don’t let that deter you. It is also published by the East Coast’s Conundrum Press. I give it my highest recommendation. This book belongs in the same conversation as Jillian and Mariko Tamaki’s This One Summer, Michel Rabagliati’s Paul Moves Out, and Seth’s ongoing Nothing Lasts in Palookaville. With Jeff Lemire’s new autobiography looming in July, this is shaping up to be a landmark year for graphic memoirs by Canadian comic creators! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 32 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
I Hate To Say It, But Movie Dinosaurs Are Not Real
By Dan Brown Dinosaur movies are a thing of the past – and the future. Specifically the near future. This July will see the release of Jurassic World Rebirth, the latest chapter in the long-running series about the prehistoric creatures running amok in our time. This year will also see the debut of Primitive War, which is set in 1968 and fuses the dino flick with the Vietnam War genre (no release date has been set as of this writing). Then, down the road a little bit, Flowervale Street is among the Mesozoic Era offerings coming to the silver screen next year. There have been so many dinosaur pictures, you could trace the history of Hollywood using them, from the age of stop-motion animation to today’s CGI. They’ve gone from clumsy clay creatures to sophisticated computer creations. And that’s the problem. However much time and money the FX wizards in Tinseltown spend to convince us these monsters look like the genuine article, please refrain from calling them “real” or “lifelike.” We can do without any online comments this summer along the lines of, “The T-Rex in Jurassic World Rebirth is so realistic” or “I can’t believe how real that brontosaurus looked!” Because how would we know? There is no one alive on the planet today who has seen a velociraptor or stegosaurus in the wild. There are no photos of dinosaurs. There is no video. No primary-source records exist of how actual dinosaurs actually appeared. There are no dinosaurs in zoo settings for us to observe. They lived in the distant past, and while we have unearthed fossil proof of their existence, none of them left any Polaroids which humans can use to judge the “realism” factor of these movies. Unlike, say, the cowboys who populate the Western genre of movie – film fans can say with some confidence if a motion picture such as Tombstone or Wyatt Earp comes close to the mark. Photos of cowboys from the 1800s do exist. Now, to be fair, the people who say things like, “Steven Spielberg has created some authentic-looking dinosaurs” might not mean it literally. They might mean something else, such as “The dinosaurs in this movie accord with what experts currently theorize about the appearance of dinosaurs.” (And the emotions the screen lizards evoke – like fear and excitement – are certainly real.) But here’s the thing: Dinosaur experts who have predicted what these creatures looked like (and what the planet’s surface looked like back then) don’t always agree, nor do their opinions stay static. The thinking changes, and our shared concept of how dinosaurs appeared also changes. I am not a paleontologist, but I do recall there was a moment in the history of studying dinosaurs when the conventional wisdom changed – dinosaurs had more feathers, the media-consuming public was told some years ago. So the dinosaurs on screen changed with that shift in thinking. Guys like Spielberg want to get it right, they want to be up on the current theories. But experts can be wrong. I’m not trying to be conspiracy-minded. However, if the plot of Jurassic Park ever does come to pass in the real world, and humankind somehow manages to resurrect dinosaurs, it’s a safe bet we will discover that the conventional thinking is wrong in some important ways. For all we know, the fire-breathing Godzilla may be the most accurate depiction of a dinosaur that the movie industry has ever come up with. In which case, they better evacuate Tokyo as soon as possible! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 32 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
GNG Meets to Talk About Toronto Coming-of-age Memoir
By Dan Brown SPOILER WARNING: This column contains plot details from Maurice Vellekoop’s I’m So Glad We Had This Time Together, so if you value surprise, stop reading now! Here’s the rundown on the most recent meeting of the L.A. Mood Graphic-Novel Group, which took place Saturday, May 10. The book: I’m So Glad We Had This Time Together by Toronto graphic artist Maurice Vellekoop. The discussion: The book we all read falls squarely into the Canadian school of graphic memoirs – for some reason, homegrown creators are really good at telling their own origin stories. In fact, they are the best in the world. In this particular case, Vellekoop puts the focus on his own upbringing as the son of religious Dutch immigrants who settled in Toronto. L.A. Mood Comics & Games co-owner Carol Vandenberg pitched the book in January for our 2025 reading list as she, too, is the child of a Dutch immigrant family. Carol said she recognized a bit of her experience in the book’s details, like Vellekoop’s mother making clothes for her children and his childhood home being decorated with Rembrandt and Vermeer paintings. It was the Walt Disney movie Fantasia that sparked Vellekoop’s imagination as a child. He attended a screening with his father, who is a central figure in the artist’s story. One moment his dad is spanking him, the next spoiling him. Talk about mixed messages! During our opening lightning round – everyone around the table gets two minutes to share their initial thoughts – almost every group member said they enjoyed or appreciated the book. We did talk about the graphic nature of the story – there are a number of sex scenes as Vellekoop embarks on his voyage of self-discovery. We briefly discussed how much of a creator’s personal life the reader ought to see, with some members noting how Vellekoop wanted to be transparent about his identity. One central paradox runs through the whole story: According to their religious beliefs, his parents indicate it’s fine for Vellekoop to be gay, but he can’t get into heaven if he ever acts on his sexuality. Naturally, this contradiction messes him up. Later in life, Vellekoop goes into therapy. After a number of tries, he finds a therapist who helps him make sense of his feelings about his mother and father. Vellekoop is more than up to the challenge of making the process of therapy – therapist and client sitting and talking – visually interesting for the reader. In the hands of a lesser artist, those sections of the book might not have been as compelling. One of the devices he uses is what I would call “the devil and angel on his shoulders.” Vellekoop gives the two conflicting voices in his head a physical form as clouds of emotion, and finally – at the moment of his biggest breakthrough in therapy – they dive back into his head. Another element group members mentioned liking is the memoir’s depiction of Toronto over the years. In one party scene in the 1980s, for instance, I spotted one of my former Ryerson journalism profs – Vellekoop did not skimp on any details. He got the look and feel of different eras in Toronto history right. Further reading: Check out Seth’s It’s A Good Life If You Don’t Weaken, Michel Rabagliati’s Paul Moves Out, and Jeff Lemire’s next book, which will be released on July 15, is called 10,000 Ink Stains: A Memoir. L.A. Mood’s Graphic-Novel Group meets the second Saturday of every month. Next month’s selection is Dean Motter’s Mister X: The Modern Age. We are on a roll with Canadian books in recent months! We’ll reconvene June 14 at the gaming tables in the store at 11 a.m. All are welcome to join the discussion! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 32 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
