On Marvel’s Propensity for Spinoffs
This evening I indulged in the guilty pleasure that is The X Factor for an hour. I’m not referring to the third-rate X-Men spinoff (Which has all of the guilt, none of the pleasure), but instead the third-rate talent show, which is in its auditions phase. This is, of course, the only point in the show’s run when it’s even half acceptable to watch; the opportunity to sneer at the numerous checkout operators and factory workers as they get their dreams crushed into a fine powder and forced down their liquor-lined gullets is often too irresistible to pass up (This is coming from a temp in a call centre, before you get on your high horses about me being on mine). I’m now watching ‘Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer’, which seems to have a real issue with blondes; of three blonde characters among the main cast of characters from the comics, all we get is Jessica Alba with a bad dye-job. Chiklis looks slightly less like a Tango-ed turd in this one, I suppose, but I’d still like to see Marvel get the franchise rights back sooner rather than later.
Speaking of Marvel, they’ve ballsed things up again. Not content with destroying twenty years of Spider-Man continuity, or doubling the number of ‘Avengers’ titles shipping every month and yet not actually putting any Avengers in either of the latest issues, they’ve decided to relegate a major plot point in this summer’s “Secret Invasion” crossover to a tie-in issue of that Olympian yawnfest, “Incredible Hercules”. For the unfamiliar, the Marvel Universe has been invaded by shape-shifting aliens called Skrulls (Think ‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers’ with superpowers), who keep ominously telling our heroes that “He loves you”. “His” identity has been the subject of much fan speculation, and yet instead of revealing it in the main comic (It’s referring to the Skrull god of stability (WTF?), if anyone was interested) they’ve cynically placed it in a tie-in which many fans, myself included, would otherwise have considered far from an essential buy. I’d say that this doesn’t affect me too much, given that I download my comics illegally anyway, but I inevitably follow this up with a purchase of the collected ‘trade paperback’ versions (My bookshelf will back me up on this one), meaning I’m going to have to buy up to six snooze-inducing issues to ensure that I own just one. Thanks, Marvel, you bunch of faeces-faced capitalists.
Elsewhere, Robert “Kryten” Llewellyn seems to be under the impression that the BBC wants to make an hour of new Red Dwarf. I don’t know how I feel about this… On one hand, I’d like a resolution to the cliffhanger which closed Series 8 (Or VIII, if you want to be anal about it), but I doubt after all this time that the new production would want to address this (And perhaps rightly so). I also can’t help but think that the cast is getting a bit too long in the tooth to be doing this anymore, and that the low acting ability of Chloe Annett isn’t going to be cancelled out by her hotness if it’s all started to go south and wrinkly. In summary, I’m dubious; please, just let it die now. Mind you, we could do with some decent new British comedy on the box… I had quite a few hopes pinned on BBC Three’s ‘The Wrong Door’
, but that turned out to just be yet another relentlessly awful punishment from God; frankly, that review was at least seven words longer than the show deserves.
I’ll leave you on an advanced warning: If anyone reading this is even thinking about seeing ‘Disaster Movie’, I’m going to come round to your house and inject spider eggs into your urethra. ‘Nuff said.
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