How much is too much?

Based on common sense and experience, it’s not unreasonable to believe we have a pretty good grasp of what “too much” means. Between you, me and every other reader out there, we can attach a reasonable answer to the question in pretty short order.

Take common sense for example: We know when there is too much salt on our food, when it’s too cold to go outside without a jacket, when you’re too tired to concentrate on something. Pretty basic stuff.

On the flip side, the concept of “too much” is not so easy to discern when it comes to some of our television preferences … and especially so with our favorite shows.

Already in The Walking Dead‘s current season’s second half, there’s been a bevy of examples of excess. And many of them have elicited its fans’ displeasure. (This isn’t exactly news to anyone; the show has been doing so from its inception, a big part of its draw and watchability.)

Recent events have caused fans (read “angry villagers”) to wield their pitchforks and lit torches on a vocal little stroll down Main Street, U.S.A.

Too Much Immediacy

With the series leaving us last year mourning Beth’s untimely demise, the writers immediately offered an interesting episode (“What Happened And What’s Going On”) to start the second half of the season with yet another death, this time fan-favorite Tyreese. Coming so quickly on the heels of Beth’s exit, you could practically hear fans gnashing their teeth. Was this too much too soon? Are the writers that heartless? Do they get their rocks off pegging us with multiple deaths back-to-back, barely giving us time to breathe?

No, not at all. It was the perfect time. It kept things flowing and interesting and it keeps us on the edge of our seats. Not to mention it makes for good drama. And it’s not as if it hasn’t been done before — Dale and Shane were “offed” in consecutive episodes during season 2. The show’s Powers That Be aren’t setting any precedents.

But still … too much too soon? That’s what a lot of fans harped about on social media, blogs and other forums concerning Tyreese’s downfall. Just goes to show you can’t please everyone all of the time.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s those gut punches and their ramifications that keep the show’s comfortabilities at bay and our senses tuned. Me? I didn’t have a problem with it. It’s part of what The Walking Dead is. If you’re a fan, you come to expect the unexpected. So, no … it wasn’t too much.

Too Much Monotony

This is one of my pet peeves. And not about the show itself, but of the fans’ attitudes toward it.

To many, last week’s “Them” was filled with plodding and tiresome nothingness. Some of the things I read and heard? “Not much action.” “Boring.” “Little story.” “It’s as if the group was doing nothing but huffing it on down a highway aimlessly.”

And therein lies my peeve. Because there was so much more to the episode.

The group was fresh from a confrontation at Grady Memorial where they successfully won back Carol but lost Beth in the process. They were still reeling from Bob’s fate at the hands of the Terminans not to mention the ruckus of that particular house of horrors. And now? Tyreese is gone. The group, as a whole, is woefully affected on deeply personal levels, particularly so in the cases of Daryl, Maggie and Sasha whose feelings have been especially riven and rent raw as a result of the loss of their loved ones. But wait, there’s more: Throw in everyone’s depletion from lack of food and water and you have yourself a real party going on. Each person is spent to their cores. Does the situation cry for a splatter-fest fracas with the undead?

No. It calls for introspection and understanding of the characters, some healing of those frayed nerves, sometimes in the form of emotional outlet. In whatever form that outlet might take. And, again, that’s just what the writers gave us. They slowed the pace of the show for the greater part of an episode and, as an audience, got us to take a step backward and evaluate the position these emotionally crippled and physically exhausted folks are feeling.

It’s called character study. I applaud it. And I’m certain I’m in the minority.

Most fans want the action, the splatter, the danger … every single episode. And I get that to a degree. It’s all well and fine to get caught up in a show. I do it all the time. But in something like The Walking Dead there’s a whole lot more going on then just the blood and guts, which is my least favorite part. Getting to the heart of the characters and their interactions with others as well as the ramifications of their actions … that’s where the real meat and potatoes of the series is for me. As example, Rick’s introspection and decisions. Glenn’s lay-it-on-the-line common sense. Michonne’s rare, in-your-face sensibility. (We saw example of this big time in Sunday’s episode during her discussions with Rick.) Daryl’s seeming off-the-cuff outbursts which, when you dissect them, can often reveal more wisdom than knee-jerk reaction.

So is there too much monotony when an episode like “Them” comes along to slow down the pace? Hell no. It’s completely necessary to the story.

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You have what you think is a pretty good gimmick. And a horror/slasher story to showcase it in. So you make a film to exploit the gimmick with the intent of capitalizing on it.

Wouldn’t you think the film you make be a reasonably decent one, one with legs to stand on? At least a little bit?

That’s not what writer/director/producer Richard L. Bare and executive producer William T. Orr decided to do. They took a budget of $1.5 million, set up camp for 48 days at the Hotel Del Coronado across the bay from San Diego and proceeded to shoot a film with the ploy of “Duo-Vision” (better known as split-screen) and churned out a piece of schlock that’s barely watchable. Actually, calling it schlock is giving it more credit than its due; this is 90+ minutes of drivel. (Note: They actually came in under budget on the film. I doubt utilizing the entire amount would have made it any better.)

At a sprawling California hotel, a killer is on the loose targeting comely single blonds. The action starts off promisingly enough with the demise of one guest shortly after checking in. And it’s here we have the pinnacle of the film’s “Duo-Vision” process. Because nearly everything hereafter goes downhill.

Duo-Vision loses steam quickly. In fact it does the equivalent of a plunge off a 500′ cliff. As the story unfolds (such that it is), the device becomes tedious. It detracts from the story in big, steaming heaps … but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If not for its contrived clicheness, you just might tune this turkey out all together.

It would be an entirely different matter if what was shown in Duo-Vision drew interest, engaged the viewer. But there are so many lackluster, unremarkable scenes on either side of the screen – and at precisely the same moments – the split-screen hype wears thin in short order. You become exhausted trying to keep up with the “nothing going on” constantly going on. Yes … it’s that bad.

Additionally, wouldn’t you think a film with so many familiar faces would have something redeeming? Edd Byrnes (Kookie of 77 Sunset Strip), David Bailey of the popular-at-the-time Mitchum deodorant commercial, the very familiar Arthur O’Connell (Fantastic Voyage, The Poseidon Adventure) and actor/novelist/co-founder of Second City comedy Roger Bowen (M*A*S*H, All In The Family) are all present in Wicked, Wicked, each and every one of them recognizable to some degree. So it had that going for it … right?

Nope. Casting didn’t work either. Try as he might (and it didn’t appear he tried in the least) Bare’s direction, plain and simple, was barely direction at all. Combine his efforts with a limp script to begin with, a dull hook incapable of sustaining interest, snooze-worthy dialog, film-making lacking fundamentals and enough drollness to cure insomnia and Wicked, Wicked flounders utterly.

The kicker is this, though: I’ve seen other reviews of the film and I’m convinced those who wrote about it saw a completely different movie than what I saw. Or they were wearing rose colored glasses. Of course, that automatically made me question what I’d seen … and then, almost instantly, I came back to the real world and to common sense. Yes, I’m sometimes delusional … but not so much I don’t know what a bad film looks like. And this? This is a bad film.

Still, there are a few items of note. Not enough to make you sit up straight though. Just little asides to induce a chuckle or two.

There’s an organist in the film who Bare thought, inexplicably, needed to make multiple appearances for effect. Why? I haven’t the slightest idea. But her wide-eyed, comical look is a welcome distraction to the story, if nothing more than to call out the dippy tunes she plays as background fare.

Plus there are a couple cringe-worthy lines of dialog. As example, late in the film after singer Lisa James (Tiffany Bolling) is swamped by reporters after being rescued from the killer, this gem crops up:

“What does it feel like to have your throat cut?” – Reporter
“It hurts …” – Lisa James

And then there’s James’ singing itself:

“Wicked, wicked that’s my ticket … you make me feel so wicked
Let me do what I love to do … make wicked, wicked love to you …”

Yeah. Really.

I’ll give the film two positives, however. 1) Randolph Roberts, who plays killer Jason Gant, does manage to convey a strange, child-like naivete on the one hand while doling out his inner knifing-bearing, evil cad on the other. And 2) the disc offers a trailer for the film. And believe me when I say it is infinitely more engaging than the actual product itself.

Technical information: 16 X 9 letterboxed edition with the original aspect ratio 2.40:1. Stereo sound is evident, but there is no back up information verifying what type of enhancements to the sound were involved. Was there noise reduction? Rerecording? And what kind of stereo sound is involved with the print? I have no clue. Nor is there any information regarding restoration either. The print is rumored to be restored (with some sources stating there was a process encompassing a couple year’s worth of effort) and I’m certain it is but I didn’t find any concrete evidence to back it up. Viewing the disc certainly doesn’t reveal anything indicating such.

I wanted something to come out of Wicked, Wicked. Something camp … something guffaw-worthy … something worth the effort of giving up an hour and a half of my time. Instead, I was left with a viewing void, time spent I will never, ever get back. And that, dear reader, is the truly wicked, wicked thing about this sad vehicle …

Wicked, Wicked was generously offered to CliqueClack for review by the fine folks (who obviously have a wicked, wicked sense of humor) at Warner Bros.

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Really, there’s no going wrong in sitting back and taking in The Judge via Blu-ray.

Well … there is, actually. You could watch it without wearing your glasses, vainly bucking the sad fact your sight is waning. But then you’d be doing yourself a disservice. If you wear glasses to, you know, see? Make sure you wear them. Don’t give in to the laziness of “I can see just fine. I don’t need my glasses.” Because viewing this picture is a treat in Blu-ray — you will cut off your nose to spite your face if you do otherwise. The transfer is crystal clear. The colors jump out at you and the razor sharp images draw the viewer into each scene. And that’s a good thing … and definitely during the first 30 or so minutes of the film’s rather formulaic set-up.

Because I wasn’t the least bit on board with the first part of the film. Thankfully, there were those visuals to keep me focused. Before acquiring the Blu-ray, I hadn’t yet seen The Judge; I missed it during its original theatrical release. Receiving a copy via Warner Bros. Home Entertainment was a much-looked-forward-to treat. (Thanks, Warner Bros.!) But at the start, I began to wonder if my anticipation was set a little too high. An ensemble cast that includes Downey Jr., Duvall, D’Onofrio, Shepard, Thornton, et al has the potential to do that, you know. I wondered if I was being led down a path to an inevitable crash and burn by story’s end. For me, it took some doing to get me comfortable with what I was watching because it dragged with the necessary groundwork that needed to be laid in order to get to the meat and potatoes of the film.

In the end, the drudgery lifted and I was rewarded with some terrific characterizations (Duvall, Shepard), some empathetic interactions (Duvall/Downey Jr., Downey Jr./D’Onofrio), a great soundtrack, some smiles and obligatory tears. (Note: Robert Duvall garnered a well-deserved supporting actor nomination for his role as the titular, crotchety patriarch.)

Oh … and that formulaic set-up I was worried about, where it was going to lead and how it would play out? It was wasted effort. And it was additionally waylaid with a minor surprise by one of the characters, completely erasing the consternation and dread. (If you’ve seen the film, guess what that surprise moment was and post it in the comment section.) Plus, the final few musical tracks did wonders for my attitude about the film and gelled everything together for me nicely. (And especially so with Willie Nelson’s take on Coldplay’s “The Scientist” which worked near perfectly during the credits.)

See? What I stated at the start was true: In the end there’s no going wrong with The Judge. The next stop? For me it’s the film’s score and soundtrack …

The special features on the disc include commentary by director David Dobkin, deleted scenes, a look into the background of the characters with the main cast (“Inside The Judge“) and a refreshing departure from the usual blooper reels, “Getting Deep With Dax Shepard” which contains some nifty moments of Shepard “interviewing” several of his fellow actors to comedic effect.

Technical features for the Blu-ray include 1080p High Definition 16×9 2.4:1 visuals, DTS-HD Master Audio, Dolby Digital sound and languages and subtitles in French and Spanish plus Brazilian Portuguese on the Blu-ray only). The combo pack also includes a standard DVD plus a digital version of the film in Digital HD with UltraViolet on specially marked Blu-ray discs.

The Judge Blu-ray disc combo pack was generously provided by Warner Bros. Home Entertainment for this review.

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As a kid, I had nothing but love for old monster movies.

The Universal gang, Frankenstein, Dracula, The Creature From The Black Lagoon. The cheesecake gigantic atomic monstrosities. War Of The Gargantuas. Godzilla and his kaiju clan.

I collected and built all the Aurora horror model kits. (Not the Polar Lights remakes, the original, one and only Aurora kits with their glow-in-the-dark features and meticulous need for attention.) I still have all of them.

And I reveled in the bevy of publications of my youth, from comics (Werewolf By Night, Man-Thing, Monsters Unleashed) to black and white magazines (Famous Monsters Of Filmland) and right on into the “vogue” newspapers (The Monster Times).

Interestingly, of all the films and media I devoured back in the day — something I continue soak up and revisit as time allows — I never got around to reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella The Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde nor did I get any of the many films tucked beneath my belt. I really don’t have a good reason. It just might be it was one of the lesser films I figured I’d get to eventually. In hindsight I don’t remember it being as readily viewable as other horror flicks, a reasonable excuse I’m comfortable in stating that’s the most likely cause.

Regardless, I recently was able to wrangle a viewing of Fredric March’s Oscar-winning performance during a rather recent Turner Classic Movie pre-code Friday night.

And oh … what a treat it was.

The film left several indelible impressions on me. Given March’s performance, there’s no question why he won an Academy Award. I haven’t seen much information or talk regarding his actual performance in the film, but based on what I saw on the screen the guy was relentlessly focused in his craft. Yes, it’s got all the old-timey black and white aura about it that lends mood and “color,” something that rides comfortably on its laurels even 60+ years after its release. But March’s performance is something to behold. And I’m not just talking the superb transformation scenes into and out of his Mr. Hyde character. His realization of Hyde is evocative of a feral animal. You can feel the effort of his ache and strain as Hyde’s persona seethes to the surface. He exudes a bestial mood you can practically smell through the screen. Acrobatically, March leaps over railings just as effortlessly and effectively as he flings champagne bottles to the floor or forces foes out of his way or women onto the floor. The guy was a physical marvel. I’ve never seen any indication he didn’t do his own stunts, further testament to his adeptness.

Most impressive (and disturbing), however, is the fact Mr. Hyde is a singular asshole. He could give a rat’s ass about anyone or anything. The only time he cares about anything other than whatever whims come to mind is when he’s cornered and in danger. Then, he’s all about escape … and always with the utmost prejudice in preserving himself. Nothing more, nothing less. He’ll go to any lengths to flee, not giving a single whit as to the consequences of his actions. I was mesmerized by Hyde and his ogre-like demeanor during his encounter with bar vixen/singer Ivy Pearson (Miriam Hopkins) who, not coincidentally, Jekyll saved from an attacker one evening. Hyde is positively horrendous, lecherous and ghastly in the extreme.

Which, in turn, brings around the subject of the success of the film as a pre-motion picture code (“Hays Code”) product, free of the censorship guidelines which raised their heads in the mid-30s. Those guidelines stymied things such as graphic scenes, extreme violence and sexual innuendo, all of which run rampant throughout Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde. It’s what makes it such a jewel of film, albeit an uncomfortably disturbing one. In fact, the viewer who has yet to take in this classic will no doubt be surprised by some of the loose standards and extremism evident in the film.

Honestly? I’m glad I didn’t see this as a kid. There’s not many things that disturb me now … but then? As an impressionable youth? I have little doubt someone as caustic and despicable a character as Mr. Hyde would have rankled my dreams to the utmost.

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Let’s get something out-of-the-way right now so there’s zero confusion.

Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll warn you with a “Ready? Here we go” when I’m moving on to the spoilers. Fair enough?

I saw “No Sanctuary” — the season 5 premiere of The Walking Dead — a week or so ago. Thrilled to get an advanced screening of it, I viewed it twice. I relished in it.

For Dead fans, it’s been a long haul since “A,” the season four closer that aired back on March 30th leaving us wondering the fate of the group corralled in that box car by the residents of Terminus. (And don’t tell me that was a spoiler — I can’t imagine anyone not being up to date on the series.)

So … here are several thoughts on “No Sanctuary.” Ready? Here we go …

Know what would have been nice? Had we lost a character of substance. (Not the nicest sentiment, I agree. But losing someone would have made the premiere infinitely more interesting.) Doing so would have shot a “no one is safe” reminder going into the new season.)

Of course, like anyone fond of the series, I don’t really want to see any character get offed.

Still … I lean toward the idea of the show living on the edge rather than the cushy feel-good warm fuzzies the episode left us with detailing the reunion of everyone (with the exception of Beth) free of Terminus, whole and hale.

Don’t get me wrong: Carol’s “homecoming” and her touching re-acquaintance with Daryl was pleasant enough. Same with Rick and Carl’s realization Judith was in good hands and back in the fold.

But … it was too comfortable, too complacent, too convenient.

Lord knows the group has contended with its trials and tribulations. And most recently with the events at Terminus. I expected a lot more from the opener, though. The truth of the matter is I was mildly disappointed with it.

More than not, it was a lot of same old same old. Blazing firepower against devious enemies and relentless walkers, a timely rescue courtesy of Carol (contributing to Rick gainsaying his previous thoughts and actions toward her), lots of coincidental circumstances “just in the nick of time” avoiding the demise of some familiar faces (Glenn, Rick, more) and the tough luck happenstances of others with which we’re not so acquainted (the many Terminans).

However it may appear, I’m not quite that heartless. I have soft spots here and there for many of the group. I just hope the writers got some of those television tropes out of their systems for the time being. (They won’t. They sure did fill the opener with stuff that seemed more filler and fodder than anything else.) But they will continue to surprise us unexpectedly as in the past. Those are the times I relish most.

Carol’s diversion — blowing up the propane tank at Terminus — was nice. (I guess.) Seeing various events taking place at Terminus, Carol naturally saw a call for action. But … you see what I mean about things being a little too convenient? Convenient and somewhat cheese-fest? Though, in the grand scheme of things, her efforts did set up reestablishing herself back in Rick’s good graces. But that was “safe” story telling. I want something more jarring and innovative. I’ve seen enough walkers blasted and stabbed and mown down with round after round after round of ammunition.

One of the biggest puzzles of Terminus is still up in the air. Were they cannibals? Those bins stenciled with “Burn, Feed, Wash” — what were they all about? Were the Terminans actually processing corpses for their own consumption? Surely they knew of infection, maybe not. Maybe they knew that eating fresh kills didn’t make any difference so filet of biter was on the menu. Or were they simply accommodating any who strolled into Terminus as a gesture of welcome? “Hey buddy … you look famished. Care for some nice BBQ?” Lots of questions going on there which we may still never learn the answers.

Or … do we?

There were a few nifty moments during the hour. The “then” segments in the show revealed much about the Terminans. They used to be “good guys,” untarnished and still discerning, still decent. We learned Mary is Gareth’s mother. Gareth’s mother?!? Who was right at home a few episodes back, flipping slabs of meat behind the grill for Maggie and Glenn and Bob and the others?!? Yikes! While that was a nice little jewel from the writers, did it solidify in anyone’s mind the Terminans are out and out cannibals? Still, thoroughly enjoyable bookends to the episode. (Plus … we’re not quite finished with Terminus just yet. *cue drama button*)

Best of all, the writers left Beth’s fate from last season wide open. Not everything was tidied up with a neat, clean red bow. Something to look forward to.

The Walking Dead is back. Finally. For me, this was somewhat a low key, *meh* chapter to start a season. But I know it will improve going forward. Later in the week I will publish talks with some of the cast from this summer’s Comic-Con that will shed some light on what’s to come.

Stay tuned …

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As a kid growing up in Southern California, Godzilla, King Of The Monsters wasn’t about the deeper meaning and not-so-subtle references to World War II’s turning point or the horrors of war.

I didn’t care anything about that. (More accurately, I didn’t know any better.) None of my friends did.

We were just thrilled with the giant monster aspect. And Godzilla was the pinnacle of those thrills, the epitome of giant monster flicks.

So imagine my further thrill years later when I discovered there was so much more to Godzilla than simply fond childhood memories of the rampant destruction of Tokyo by sheer kaiju brute force and devastating atomic breath; Godzilla, King Of The Monsters wasn’t the original film at all but a hastily put together, Americanized version utilizing just over an hour’s worth of the Japanese Gojira, the superior, deeper and thought-provoking forerunner to the classic Godzilla more commonly known to the masses.

I was riveted to the screen when reporter Steve Martin (Raymond Burr) detailed Tokyo’s ruination from the rampaging Godzilla each time it graced the family television set, times that were too few and frustratingly far between as a kid. I was equally riveted at finally getting a copy of Gojira to see what was cut out of and changed in the film, how it differed from what I affectionately recalled from those youthful years. Was it a completely different film as I’d heard?

Knowing Gojira — which preceded Godzilla, King Of The Monsters by a couple years — was filmed in its original Japanese wasn’t daunting in the least to me. (I know a lot of people have problems with viewing a foreign film. Many folks are thrown by the incomprehensibility of a different tongue just as much as they are by subtitles flashing at the bottom of their screens, things that can and do contribute to the lack of enjoyment of non-English speaking films.) But I’m not one of them. And in fact Gojira, in its nascent form, is truly different than its bastard son … and not just in its language. It’s a more jarring and empathetic film, it’s a longer running film (clocking in at almost 100 minutes versus the 80 or so minutes of the Americanized version) not to mention it’s a captivating and intriguing piece of film making.

The idea Gojira was (and still is) firmly enmeshed with glaring comparisons and references to the World War II bombings of Japan less than a decade prior to its original 1954 release. A majority of those haunting images and scenarios were effectively slashed from the English version with only bare bones snippets left intact. This is one of the most obvious differences found when you compare the films side by side. They aren’t the most telling, however. There are a few scenes that had to have chilled the blood of some movie-goers of the time Gojira was released with the war still fresh in memory:

In one scene a physician runs a Geiger counter over a child in the aftermath of one of Godzilla’s rampages; the counter ticks wildly indicating horrifically the child’s exposure to radiation. In another, a mother comforts her daughter as the sound of Godzilla’s wrath plays out all around her. (“We’ll see daddy in heaven” the mother says in an effort to placate the girl.) There’s also a scene with a commuter train filled with Japanese verbalizing their fears about the creature. (“I hope I didn’t survive Nagasaki for nothing” one woman hrmphs.) Not so blood chilling — but equally as poignant — is a council meeting debating whether the monster’s affiliation with H-bomb testing should be revealed, sparking possible public hysteria. There are plenty more examples such as these removed from the Raymond Burr interpretation. Observers of the original realize each instance of excisement hugely alters one Godzilla rendition from the other.

One really interesting notice in Gojira was the presence of gratuitous (for the time) nudity. There are scenes of topless women when a fishing boat survivor washes ashore early on in the film which really surprised me. This is something that couldn’t possibly be present in Godzilla, King Of The Monsters … could it? But, on review, there it was. The exact same scenes, never cut from the original. I reasoned my fascination with the film was the monster aspect and had nothing to do with underlying morals or otherwise. Of course, this was all part of the intrigue of getting my first glimpse of Gojira and the fun of comparing one film to the other.

The flush of excitement of the version I saw as a kid will forever remain. Come on! Giant, destructive monsters! The stuff of popcorn Saturday afternoons and thrills and chills! And that’s why the recent reboot held (and, for me, delivered) such promise. Just as arousing though is Gojira and all its ominous undertones.

This Halloween? I suggest you go “old school” and kindle a different sort of scare instead of the glut of current slasher flicks or shallow horror schlock. Expand your mind. Get retro, go kaiju … and go Gojira instead.

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It’s been a couple of months since Comic-Con but we’re finally within reach of one of the most anticipated shows of the new television season: Gotham. The series, if you don’t know, tells of the story of a young Jim Gordon and his experiences and rise in the ranks of Gotham’s police force along with origin stories of many Batman villains. (It premieres this Monday on FOX.)

I got the opportunity to sit in at a filled-to-capacity press room with many of the notables in the freshman series.

And when I say filled to capacity, I’m not talkin’ turkey. I was one of the last media members allowed in the room; quite a bit of jostling was needed to accommodate the better part of the last dozen of us who squeezed in. Seating at the tables was tighter than tight — we were practically in each others’ laps. You cozyed up to your seatmate quickly and introduced yourself kindly so you could set up your recording equipment or you were out of luck. Real estate was at a premium.

But it was worth it in the end, even though not all the series’ stars in attendance were able to make each table (stars Ben McKenzie, Donal Logue, Erin Richards and Jada Pinkett Smith as well as executive producers Bruno Heller and Danny Cannon) but our table did host , Camren Bicondova (Selina Kyle), Robin Lord Taylor (Oswald Cobblepot), and David Mazouz (Bruce Wayne) — his video is coming soon.

The nifty thing about the three was the focus and enthusiasm they had for their characters. 13 year old David Mazouz (remember him as the emotionally challenged Jake Bohm from the short lived Touch with Kiefer Sutherland?) was especially articulate and impressive in what he had to say and had some interesting takes on his character:

Camren Bicoondova discusses a few tidbits on her audition for the role of Selina Kyle:

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_aFb1a_5NI

Someone who looked as if he was having a lot of fun — not only with the series but at Comic-Con itself — was Robin Lord Taylor who touched on some of the inter-relationships with others in the series and more:

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=CqG1PkC9BQA

Having sat down with these three, I couldn’t help but be even more pumped about the show’s premiere. At the time, it was still a long two months before it finally aired.

Now? It’s at the doorstep and we’re ready to be immersed in the fog and intrigue of Gotham.

In a mere 24 hours there has been a spate of posts and commentaries and various other entries on the unfortunate passing of Robin Williams.

A bevy of news reports on whichever channel you call a favorite. Gaggles of radio talk shows in incredulous discussion. Water cooler snippets about a favorite film of his. You can’t even access the internet right now without some banner blaring reminders every which way about the man.

I’ve seen several friends and acquaintances taking the opportunity to use the news as a launching point to tell their own stories of personal fights with this skulking disease called “Depression,” using it to remind people there are outlets to battle this silent, lurking evil. And there isn’t anything wrong with that. A tragedy like this, painful as it is, should be used to recognize its vice-like hold on those afflicted and point them in a direction other than that of Robin Williams.

Me personally? I’m angry. Pissed off. And at the point of seething.

Because I loved Robin Williams. He was one of my all-time favorite actors and comedians. And Depression took him away from the family and friends and fans who loved him.

I thought the man was amazing as the manic Parry in The Fisher King. (I got a two-for-one bonus in that film as he co-starred with another of my favorite actors, Jeff Bridges.) He was superb in Awakenings, intriguing in Moscow On The Hudson (one of his first films) and painfully emotive and completely believable as Robert Ellison in “Bop Gun,” an outstanding episode of Homicide: Life On The Street which unfolded the story of Williams’ character and family as his wife was killed while on a visit to Baltimore. There was The Birdcage, Good Will Hunting and Insomnia with Al Pacino, all three completely different, each film stretching the man’s acting chops. And how about his dual role in a film which probably plays #2 in the world right behind The Shawshank Redemption, Mrs. Doubtfire? All a result of his one-off appearance on an unlikely episode of Happy Days which led to the bright-burning Mork & Mindy.

*sigh*

I’m pissed because this mental disease called “Depression” personally robbed me of any further appearances on David Letterman where he was often a loose canon, regularly putting on impromptu master classes of impressionistic brilliance. I was captivated by his skittish performance opposite Robert De Niro in Awakenings and equally so as John Keating in Dead Poet’s Society.

Like all actors, however, Williams’ films offered up some real boners: Toys. Patch Adams. Death To Smoochy. Old Dogs. I know of at least one acquaintance who likes Popeye. And many might call it a boner but I laughed often and out loud at his foibles in RV. Sue me. Yeah … all his films weren’t “A”-listers but I respected him for giving them his all.

I first heard the news about Williams as an aside on an internet comedy broadcast which was featuring an episode about happiness, of all things. (Oh, the irony.) I thought it was some sort of cruel hoax at first and I immediately sought out more information. What I discovered led me further and further along a path that began in disbelief but eventually birthed an ever-growing anger peppered with tears the more I read about it.

Yeah, anger.

What a strange reaction to the death of someone I’d never met. I felt it grow as I continued to find out about some of the supposed circumstances surrounding his death, circumstances fueled by Depression which will come to light even more as the days progress.

And tears. As I grew angrier and angrier, I realized I was holding back a floodgate of emotion, finally manifesting itself at the airing of NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams. The news anchor’s report on the actor was the catalyst for releasing those tears I was holding back … but it didn’t quell my anger.

I’m going to harbor this anger for quite some time. And it’s quite possibly going to become worse before it gets better and finally dissipates. This weekend I’ll find it necessary to view a few of my favorite Williams acting forays. In so doing I might find some comfort from anger and sorrow warring inside me but I’m leaning more toward the inevitability they will well up overwhelmingly to further involve me in their quarrel before I get any relief from them.

In the meantime, I need to come to terms with “Depression” and why it’s such an insidious, conniving bastard.

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Heading into the Batman ’66 press conference during the first full day of Comic-Con was a bit eerie.

An elevated stage hosted four bodies — left to right were Burt Ward, Adam West, Julie Newmar all sitting at a table and the conference moderator standing behind a podium. The four of them watched as the media filed in and found seats; it was as if we were on display. The room was uncharacteristically quiet. You couldn’t help but have the feeling of being marched into a room with adults staring you down with laser eyes, sizing you up to consider what sort of punishment to dole out.

The moderator — who never introduced himself, something I absolutely despise — informed everyone why we were there (the Blu-ray release of Batman: The Complete Television Series) and began fumbling with questions for the three personalities but quickly decided it was better to simply let the audience get things underway.

Ward, West and Newmar took on characteristics they wore consistently throughout the hour. Burt Ward was the most serious and articulate of the trio, when he wasn’t crochety Adam West worked the crowd for laughs — continually pumping the coming release of the new Blu-ray set in November — and an air of uncertainty hung in the room whenever Julie Newmar commented in a semi-seductive whisper each time her turn came up.

Far and away, Burt Ward was the most informative of the group in between gushing appreciation for his fellow actors and speaking of his genuine friendship for West.

Ward regaled the crowd with several tales of daring-do while on the Batman set. Most interestingly was his story of being suspended upside down while live tigers paced and growled beneath him in one episode. He’d talked to the animals’ trainers, getting a feel for the cats and discovering (much to his dismay) they were quite capable of leaping at the level he was suspended to take a swipe at him. Since the massive cats were rather lethargic that particular day and to get them to pace and appear more active, hunks of meat were hung above Ward’s head. Ironically, the crew filmed from above him in protective cages.

Ward also told of his time on the set without any insurance to his name. Once the bumps and bruises began making their appearances and performance dangers reared their heads, it was the order of the day to get covered, he remarked.

This particular press room was set up conference style with the participants behind their table fielding questions flung out from the media below them. You can well imagine there are some interesting things that get asked. As well, there are also some pretty stupid ones tossed into the mix, some of which can raise the ire of the person being questioned.

One such instance came when Adam West was asked what he thought was so special about the Batman he played, not to mention the show itself, especially in light of all other Batman films which came after it.

Now, it wasn’t so much the question was dumb in and of itself. Far from it. But West took exception to the mention of the other films. His demeanor immediately became cranky — he not only bristled but practically bared his teeth at the question. Not pleased with it, you could see him conjure up vitriol with which to pepper his response:

“Look: You guys are going to write whatever the hell you’re going to write about the show. I don’t give a crap about the other Batmans. We did what we wanted to do … the Batman we wanted to do. We are the luckiest actors in the world with the legacy we’ve left. And you wouldn’t be here right now if what we did wasn’t special. You figure it out.”

I swear I heard a *hrmph* as he sat back in his chair. Mind your Ps and Qs when you’re asking something of West.  That hush that hung in the air when we first came into the room, just prior to the conference beginning? Same quietude here but on an entirely different, very uncomfortable level. You could taste the tang of it in the room.

To be fair, the man has heard every question in the book hundreds of times over in interview after interview, at convention after convention. And, at 85 years of age, you can’t really fault him for the occasional bout of grouchiness. He’s earned it.

Removing the tension from the air suddenly became Burt Ward’s job. He smoothed things over by offering his take on why Batman is still revered today: “It was the happiness the show brought to the kids. The positive outlook and situations. And the innuendo thrown in for adults. The show appealed to every aspect across the board. That’s why it was so popular … and why it continues to be popular.”

Huh. It’s not Batman but Robin, this time, who saves the day.

Julie Newmar? Let’s just say she was the sometimes head-scratching wild card thrown in to keep everyone on their toes. Ms. Newmar is flaunting her 80th year in grand fashion. She looks great, she’s engaging and damned if she still doesn’t have curves going on. But you never know what’s going to come gushing out that snow-maned head of hers. It could be something seductive, perhaps an unexpected revelation or something completely frivolous and meaningless. No matter — she was entertaining to the last.

Asked about her Catwoman outfit, she purred: “It was licorice melted over me,” something she seemed quite proud of. She told the room she loved the sauciness and sexiness of the character and didn’t hold back mention of her conscious effort to make chemistry work between she and West, believing it came through wonderfully and to the delight of the audience. Of the celebrities on the show she worked with, special mention was called out to Burgess Meredith (“The Penguin was the role of his life, he told me”), Tallulah Bankhead’s final role (as Black Widow: “She didn’t get why the producers did what the did on they show”) and how Frank Sinatra was interested in taking on the role of The Joker at one point. At times some of Ms. Newmar’s answers came back just as campily as the television show — I don’t know if she intended them to come across that way but they did. It gave her an air of loopiness. For good or bad? I just don’t know.

One of the most comical moments of the conference came with a question to Burt Ward: “What was your favorite or most memorable ‘Holy (whatever), Batman!’ moment in the show?”

Ward struggled with the question a bit: “I never really had one. There were so many …”

But West and Newmar weren’t going to let him off so easily. With the smoothness of a comedy duo who’s been working for years, the responses came rapid fire:

“Holy Underwear!” Newmar quipped.

“Holy Guacamole!” West countered.

“Holy Bill Of Rights!” Newmar came right back.

“Holy Infatuation!” West gushed. “See? We’re your biggest admirers, Burt …”

The room loved it. If ever there was a question of the Batman legacy being remembered (and, for the record, there’s never been a question in my mind), it was quashed with that exchange.

Batman: The Complete Television Series will be released on Blu-ray, DVD and Digital HD November 11th and is currently available for pre-order.

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Comic-Con is what you make of it.

And, being the event comes but once a year for a brief portion of a week, it’s best you hit the floor with all thrusters at full when you descend on San Diego.

Plans in place, I did just that Friday …

• My day started with a tradition I maintain every year at Comic-Con, a visit to the San Diego Blood Bank for my annual donation. With my partner in crime Ivey in tow, we made the short trek to do our thing. Lo and behold, the same gentleman who poked and prodded me last year — Ramon — drew from me once again. I think the two of us are becoming “a thing” …
• I got the opportunity to do quite a few interviews Friday, all of which will be posted in some form or another in the coming week. Included in those Q&As were a comic property (Eric Powell of the popular comic The Goon), a couple television show press rooms (Falling Skies which had to be cut short due to scheduling conflicts and The Walking Dead) and something new I wanted I sought out to learn more about, God Is Disappointed In You by writer Mark Russell and Shannon Wheeler of Too Much Coffee Man fame.
• Ivey sat down with the cast from Dominion, or putting it another way: Ivey sat down with Giles and Charles Widmore … and David from Kings and Doreah from Game of Thrones.
• I caught an extended look at iZombie in one of the spacious meeting rooms, something I thought might be packed to the gills. To my surprise, I was able to walk right in, unlike Thursday with the Toy Story That Time Forgot. (That panel was stuffed to capacity. You win some, you lose some.)
• In a stark contrast to last year’s The 100 press room, Ivey said series star Isaiah Washington was comically tight-lipped about what is coming up for his character on the show this year … but in all honesty, his being in attendance is a spoiler in and of itself.
• Do I have to mention there was a gaggle of photos taken and the Con floor traversed in search of personalities and old friends? Naturally.

Busy as the day was, there were still evening parties to attend.

• En route to the Warner Bros. fest, I bumped into a crowd of luchadores (Mexican wrestlers) going the opposite direction. Every year we hook up at some bar or restaurant in San Diego’s Gaslamp to enjoy pitchers of cerveza and offer photo opportunities to any passersby. (The kicker is the fact these guys are real luchadores from Tijuana. I’m the token gringo of the bunch who they’ve welcomed with open arms as a brother.) I told them I would seek them out a bit later in the evening.
• The Warner Bros. party Ivey and I attended was located at a spacious, open air rooftop of The Hard Rock. This shindig boasted more talent than you could shake a stick at. Talent from The 100, Mike Tyson Mysteries (including Iron Mike himself), The Vampire Diaries, iZombie The Flash, Arrow, Person Of Interest, Gotham, The Originals and The Following mingled about. There could very well have been more but, with a list like that, it was dizzying enough keeping track.
• Post party, Ivey headed back to the hotel while I went on the hunt for my wrestling brothers. I was unsuccessful … but I did wind up at an after-Eisner Awards festival with full of talent and fellow writers.
• Missed opportunity of the evening was The Last Ship party on the USS Midway. Wouldn’t it have been cool to have been rubbing elbows on an aircraft carrier? A wish for another time.
• Of a few things Ivey was involved in, he realized a dream this year which was unfulfilled in 2013: A photo opportunity on Game Of Thrones very own Iron Throne. Geek nirvana for certain.
• Additionally, he commandeered some pretty cool GoT swag — exclusive T-shirts HBO distributed at their Survive the Realm Experience. Artist Robert Ball, of GoT/HBO’s “Beautiful Death” series earlier this year, was the creator with a different piece debuting each day of The Con. Pretty cool swag if I do say so myself.

Saturday? Look out: We’re comin’ to getcha …