First of all, thanks to Terry, Thad and Joey for letting me add additional creative to their blog's content. I've known these three men for quite a while, and they're good men all. In return for their generosity, I'm going to contribute to this blog on occasion (at least until they angrily kick me off) about comics related items.
Who am I? Who is "F. Fredrick Skitty"? Some of you who are on the "I'm Dropping this Stinking Book" newsgroup know me as the angry guy who's John's brother and who doesn't like very many comics. Others of you who've never heard of me before can expect to be routinely shocked and appalled by my combative declamations against various artists and writers who have upset me by their piss-poor attempts at comics.
(Originally Joey, Terry and Thad wanted me to have the user handle "The I Hate Comics Guy", but I felt that "F. Fredrick Skitty" had more dignity.)
But don't go thinking you can pigeonhole me as the guy who doesn't like any comics at all. Oh no no, that's not me. I do like comics, very much. I've written several myself and if I'm bored I may post a couple of pictures from them to prove it.
Infrequently, however, my senses are assaulted by certain terrible comics and comics related material (television and movies) and it makes me so angry that I have to punch a wall. Then I angrily punch the computer keyboard, imagining that it's the head of the terrible writer or artist who has offended me, and this is the result.
My first post will be something I wrote back on May 10th, right after I'd seen Spiderman 3 for the first time. I suppose it's kind of moot, now, since the movie's been seen by everyone in existence, but don't let you stop that from reading this delightful review.
And now, here is my review:
I saw Spiderman 3 on Monday and I'll tell you to save your money. Save your money and your time because you'll never get it back and you'll regret it.
Most of all, that movie was a thuggish betrayal. It's hard to think a movie could be worse than the first Batman, but Raimi and his five or six brothers who worked on the production crew (and fluffer duties) managed to pull it off. What my brain still refuses to accept is that the movie was green-lighted, written, directed and produced by full grown men.
Pay no attention to the much flaunted advertising phrase "140 million dollars opening weekend." Columbia Pictures is throwing that phrase around to make you think you're missing out on something. All that phrase means is that they've duped 1.4 million people into seeing a worthless piece of crap.
The movie's main intent was to entertain seven year olds. Dumb seven year olds, actually; the ones who even at that lively age still don't seem to "get it". These are the seven year olds who remain shocked into amazed silence at video tapes featuring earthmoving equipment and heavy machinery. was once one of those doughy seven year olds, and he has somehow retained his dull childlike sense of "awesome" well into his sixties. Much good may it do him.
The secondary intent of the movie was to demonstrate Raimi's withering contempt for his audience, and in this he succeeded. Raimi resents, no doubt, his continued inability to understand even the simplest concepts conveyed in the original Ditko comics. Jealous at the ability and talent of others, his spite for all of their accomplishments is evident in each frame.
Walking home after seeing that tripe, I thought to myself "That movie is Scrappy Doo." But that thought didn't convey the unpleasant averageness and the sick-making mediocrity of that film. I tried again with "That movie is Uni the Unicorn from the Dungeons and Dragons cartoon." Closer, but not quite there.
Finally, I hit on this phrase: "That movie is Rodney King, high on crack and driving his car 90 miles an hour through a school zone."
I hope you have enjoyed my movie review. Don't see that film.