Four quick observations about the latest Potter film, all changes from the book, and all emphasizing the religious or mythic nature of the story. Spoilers abound.
1) In order to enter Lord Voldemort's cave, Dumbledore makes a blood offering, cutting his hand. Harry, of course, is upset--he would have been happy to give his blood instead. Now, in the book, Dumbledore tells Harry that his (Harry's) blood is "worth more" than Dumbledore's.
In the film, Dumbledore uses more familiar language--Harry's blood is "far more precious." Very slick, and a better hint to the conclusion of the series.
2) After Dumbledore's death, Bellatrix sets the Dark Mark (the skull/snake thing) over Hogwarts (in the book, the Mark is set as a lure for Dumbledore). She then proceeds to trash the Hogwarts Great Hall and even burns down Hagrid's cottage for fun. This called to mind a bit from Final Crisis about the death of the avatar of freedom (Mister Miracle, naturally) signalling the "Victory of Evil"--Dumbledore's death has to be reflected, not only with the Dark Mark, but with the destruction of the heart and soul of Hogwarts as well.
3) The Death Eaters leave Hogwarts through the front door. As they all wear black, the appearance is neatly that of a funeral procession.
4) Finally, the Dark Mark is dispelled by pinpoints of light from the wands of the Hogwarts community. McGonagall, as is appropriate, is the first to raise her wand. The second and third, however, are two fairly minor characters, shown in the next shot--Madam Pomfrey, who minds the Hogwarts infirmary, and Luna Lovegood. In other words, a healer and a believer. The final effect of all the Hogwartsians holding up glowing wands may call to mind a rock concert ("Dude, play One!")...or the Service of Light component of an Easter Vigil Mass, wherein the faithful each hold a candle in absolute darkness to signify the power of the Risen Christ over death itself.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Kirby's Jesus
A lot of bad things have been written about Grant Morrison, and maybe they're all true (I am just getting back into this game and haven't read Final Crisis or even 52). But I have read Seven Soldiers: Mister Miracle and I've read the Fourth World Omnibus, so something ought to be said: Morrison gets Kirby, and Morrison gets Mister Miracle, and that's not nothing.
According to The Hunger, this is the part of the blog where I tell all two of my readers that I read the X-Men when I was a kid and then stopped but got back into comics when a college professor introduced me to Watchmen. Well, um, guilty, except I didn't read X-Men, I read Spider-Man, which is why I became a philosophy major and not a cultural studies tool. Moving on.
Basically, what Morrison got about Mister Miracle is that beyond the costume, beyond the goofy premise, and beyond the romance with the completely awesome Big Barda, Mister Miracle is the son of the Highfather given over to the "dark side" in exchange for peace. That's inescapable Jesus-y. Mister Miracle subsequently escapes from Darkseid (and the vastly more disturbing Granny Goodness, who, whether Robert Jordan admits it or not, was the source for Semirhage and Mesaana alike--whoa, that's like three whole other blog spots right there).
The Jesus stuff is right there in Kirby. Mister Miracle, we are constantly told, produces genuine "miracles," "cheats death," and walks, with alarming frequency, into the hands of his enemies, seemingly like a lamb to the slaughter, although he always escapes all but unharmed. He is seldom violent beyond incapacitating his foe du jour. His death-defying escapes are accomplished with the aid of a Mother Box, which we know from elsewhere in Kirby is a direct line to the "infinite" or "the Source"--no less than God Himself. If there is a moment in any of Kirby's Mister Miracle stories in which Scott Free, post-escape from Granny's brainwashing, acts with less than perfect virtue, I'm unaware of it--even when, in the final issue of Mister Miracle, Scott is captured by Granny Goodness and his Mother Box is disabled, he begs for the release of his comrades, not himself. His assistant, Oberon, goes so far as to say to Scott that "By daring death, you taught me the value of life."
So when Morrison produced Seven Soldiers, with its repeated crucifixion and self-sacrifice imagery for the new Mister Miracle, Shilo Norman, he was not being especially groundbreaking, except insofar as honoring the root ideas of classic characters is "groundbreaking" in today's comic world (rimshot!). What Morrison did that was clever was realize that Kirby's Mister Miracle #12 (in the unlikely event anyone is reading this AND knows what I'm talking about, the one with Mystivac, the thought-controlling idol) is all wrong, and essentially rewrite it correctly.
What probably hasn't come across in this entry is that Jack Kirby's Fourth World stuff, now helpfully collected in four hardcover editions, is awesome. It's better than his work on Thor. As blasphemous as this sounds, it's better than his work on Fantastic Four. I could go on, and will later. I wanted to hit the Jesus elephant in the room first, and now I have, in a rambling, disorganized way.
According to The Hunger, this is the part of the blog where I tell all two of my readers that I read the X-Men when I was a kid and then stopped but got back into comics when a college professor introduced me to Watchmen. Well, um, guilty, except I didn't read X-Men, I read Spider-Man, which is why I became a philosophy major and not a cultural studies tool. Moving on.
Basically, what Morrison got about Mister Miracle is that beyond the costume, beyond the goofy premise, and beyond the romance with the completely awesome Big Barda, Mister Miracle is the son of the Highfather given over to the "dark side" in exchange for peace. That's inescapable Jesus-y. Mister Miracle subsequently escapes from Darkseid (and the vastly more disturbing Granny Goodness, who, whether Robert Jordan admits it or not, was the source for Semirhage and Mesaana alike--whoa, that's like three whole other blog spots right there).
The Jesus stuff is right there in Kirby. Mister Miracle, we are constantly told, produces genuine "miracles," "cheats death," and walks, with alarming frequency, into the hands of his enemies, seemingly like a lamb to the slaughter, although he always escapes all but unharmed. He is seldom violent beyond incapacitating his foe du jour. His death-defying escapes are accomplished with the aid of a Mother Box, which we know from elsewhere in Kirby is a direct line to the "infinite" or "the Source"--no less than God Himself. If there is a moment in any of Kirby's Mister Miracle stories in which Scott Free, post-escape from Granny's brainwashing, acts with less than perfect virtue, I'm unaware of it--even when, in the final issue of Mister Miracle, Scott is captured by Granny Goodness and his Mother Box is disabled, he begs for the release of his comrades, not himself. His assistant, Oberon, goes so far as to say to Scott that "By daring death, you taught me the value of life."
So when Morrison produced Seven Soldiers, with its repeated crucifixion and self-sacrifice imagery for the new Mister Miracle, Shilo Norman, he was not being especially groundbreaking, except insofar as honoring the root ideas of classic characters is "groundbreaking" in today's comic world (rimshot!). What Morrison did that was clever was realize that Kirby's Mister Miracle #12 (in the unlikely event anyone is reading this AND knows what I'm talking about, the one with Mystivac, the thought-controlling idol) is all wrong, and essentially rewrite it correctly.
What probably hasn't come across in this entry is that Jack Kirby's Fourth World stuff, now helpfully collected in four hardcover editions, is awesome. It's better than his work on Thor. As blasphemous as this sounds, it's better than his work on Fantastic Four. I could go on, and will later. I wanted to hit the Jesus elephant in the room first, and now I have, in a rambling, disorganized way.
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