Kibbles ‘n’ Bits, 8/4/11

I want to write more about the con when I have time. I want to write about a couple of lives that I think I saw changed for the better by folks’ attendance of that convention. I want to write about how I ran into Sid Krofft in a hallway, recognized him from the back…and then noticed that he was standing next to H.R. Pufnstuf. I want to write about how funny Robert Ben Garant and Tom Lennon were in the portion of the Eisner Awards they hosted, which was the only part I got to see. I want to write about the wit and charm of Jonathan Ross on our Jack Kirby panel…actually, about the wit and charm of all the folks who appeared on all my panels. I want to write about the convention’s amazing crew and skill at crowd control.

Is it fair to hold Marvel Comics to a higher standard than a corporation whose products are not of the intellectual property variety, just because Marvel’s properties are characters who represent the triumph of good over evil? I’ve wrestled with that. I don’t think Marvel is evil or horrible because of some bad policies, and obviously it’s no coincidence that Marvel’s good fortune in being bought by Disney, having successful films, etc., leads to them being targets of lawsuits like this, but opportunism doesn’t by itself invalidate a position. I tended to always follow the precept that whatever a court of law decided in the case of creative ownership lawsuits, that was good enough for me. Wolfman’s Blade? He had his day in court, he lost, end of story. But the impact that Jack Kirby’s co-creations have had on Marvel Comics over the past 70 years is just too overwhelming for me to continue that stance.

To complete the spectacle, Wizard World invites contemporary comic book artists — both known and unknown — to set up booths and show their work in its massive Artist Alley. This year, two notable comics artists from Illinois will be attending: Don Kramer (booth #3015), the artist depicting Wonder Woman in her latest incarnation; and Ivan Brunetti (booth #3704), an alternative comics artist and author of Cartooning: Philosophy and Practice (Yale University Press, 2011).

Obviously, there’s stuff that’s physically impossible to do, but some of the climbing I did, some of the spinning, the twisting. Some of it was done by a digital double, the same way a stuntman would do dangerous stuff. And that’s where the divide would happen. What the animators will do is take reference for the stuff you are capturing, and be able to morph into that, so the facial capture is still there, and at the end of the day, there’s the physicality and the emotional journey.

This material is almost undefinable in its importance, as for decades creators like Gottfredson (and his Duck-Man counterpart, Carl Barks) toiled away anonymously. Finally, in the late 1960s/early 70s, comic book and animation fans slowly deduced the identities of these men who created their childhood favorites. For years, Barks was only referred to as “the good duck artist”, because no one knew his name. Eventually, fans became aware of these great creators, but recognition in the outside world was a much slower process. For a long time, Gottfredson’s incredible efforts paled in the shadow of Barks’ growing fame. This book also goes some way toward putting that right, giving Gottfredson’s work a proper showcase in a popular format.