Murmur - kwech's Content

Read It Before You See It: Youth In Revolt

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 21:46:18 GMT

by: kwech
Nick Twisp deserves to be set loose to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting by your imagination before being fossilized on the silver screen. Just be sure you have a sturdy dictionary at the ready.

Youth In Revolt: The Journals of Nick Twisp chronicles six months in the life of an immensely well-read, and equally manipulative (and criminally insane) fourteen year-old as he stops at nothing to reunite with the girl he fell in love with while on a brief family vacation. During a week spent in a rented lakeside trailer in northern California with his trashy mother and the current constituent on her perpetual carousel of degenerate, beer-swilling boyfriends, Nick meets Sheeni Saunders, an impeccably beautiful, even more well-read (and fluently French-speaking) teen with aspirations of expatriating to Paris for the sake of finding love and academic fulfillment. Sheeni takes a shine to Nick, who is already head-over heels in love with her, and suggests (perhaps too convincingly) that he come out of his innocent, bookish shell. After they part ways, Nick cuts a wide swath through California on a Grand Theft Auto-esque criminal rampage. He lies, cheats, and steals his way through every situation he encounters, manipulates everyone he meets, and burns every bridge he crosses, purely for the sake of getting Sheeni back (all while on the run from the police and the FBI, by the way). Sound entertaining? It is.

If the titular Twisp's diction is reminiscent of a middle-aged Ivy Leaguer, there may be good reason. In my humble opinion, C. D. Payne, a Harvard alum (class of 1971), effectively used this book as a vessel through which to assay the various iterations of nearly every grammatical morphology that had heretofore been deemed malapropos within the accepted conventions of his prior (unpublished) works. At long last, the existentially pent-up author succeeded in creating a scenario that readily allowed his creative juices to gush forth unabated. Having said that, I find it completely unsurprising that this was Payne's first novel, as it reeks (in a charming way) of the story he was always meant to write. The trials of late-pubescent nervousness and unrequited teenage puppy love hit home in a very satisfying way (that is, for a guy who was himself once a hopelessly romantic, bookish teen). Of course, this is always the situation in which the rookie author can find him/herself mired in creative quicksand, unable to cut loose the tendrils that bind him/her to a formulaic treadmill. Sometimes, as we all know, that treadmill can be an astronomically lucrative, critically-acclaimed one, as fellow initial-initial-surname billionaire author-god J. K. Rowling will gladly tell you. However, as it pertains to the scribe in question, this does not seem to be the case. C. D. Payne has released three follow-ups in the Nick Twisp saga, all published in the early to mid 00's. One details the exploits of Nick and Sheeni in [MILD SPOILER ALERT] Paris (a massive mistake in my view), and another chronicles the life of Nick's younger brother. I'm of the camp that feels Youth In Revolt leaves the reader in a good place, even if it's insanely unlikely and openly spitting in karma's face. The story simply did not need to be extended nor tampered with.

I do, however, think this book will translate well to the screen. The format of the private diary naturally lends itself to staging the characters in a cinematic way. In Nick's minute-by-minute account of his daily life, there is an immediacy to the action that is taking place on the page. One can easily imagine the prose being adapted to screenplay format (verily, just subtract most of Nick's flowery treatises on his hatred for humanity and love for Sheeni, it would seem). The abundance of clever dialogue keeps the narrative smoothly flowing, and the unlikely criminal escapades keep the dramatic tension consistently cranked. As a card-carrying fanboy of Arrested Development, I have supreme confidence in the frighteningly-masterful comic timing of a youthful Michael Cera. Like most of the roles he (see: his team) has chosen, this role seems to have been crafted and gift-wrapped especially for him. By the time the third act rolls around, when Nick is a paranoid schizophrenic maniac juggling two alter egos (one of them female), the awkward beats per-minute should be breathtakingly unbearable, and worth the price of admission.

At the time of this writing (October 15), the flick is tracking at an 83% Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, and a 6.9 out of 10 on IMDB.

Ultimately, I'm not sure how good the movie will be, but I can say in complete confidence that I recommend this book. It is incredibly entertaining, thrilling, and funny. At 499 pages in trade paperback form, I did not want it to end when I reached the final page.

So, I hope you enjoyed my first write-up here on Murmur. Whether you did or didn't, I'd love to hear about it in the comments. If you would like to watch my companion video to this review, please find it embedded below.

Book Review: Soon I Will Be Invincible

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 00:17:31 GMT

by: kwech
Is Austin Grossman's 310-page love letter to comic book fans worth your time?

Rather than simply referring to Soon I Will Be Invincible as a novel, I really think a more fitting description of it would be a 310-page love letter to comics fans. There are enough familiar scenarios, obvious metaphors, hackneyed phrases, costumed cliches, and onomatopoeic words to make anyone who's ever enjoyed 24 pages of sequential art feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. However, I'd like to make the case that this fairly simplistic, straightforward capes-and-cowls tale has enough going for it to make it worth consideration for anyone looking for an entertaining (and often quite humorous) read.

The story is recounted through the experiences of dual narrators, who alternate each chapter. The reader is first introduced to Dr. Impossible, self-proclaimed smartest and most evil currently-active supervillain, on the eve of his 12th escape from prison.

The next chapter introduces Fatale, a young female cyborg who, after barely surviving a horrendous accident, is rebuilt, and deployed by the NSA as a supersoldier-spy, busting up crime rings and drug lords worldwide. After quitting that gig, she strikes out on her own, beating on petty thugs and thieves; that is, until the leader of the earth's premiere superhero team (The Champions) comes knocking on her door in search of a fresh recruit.

The book's uncomplicated story proceeds as such: Corefire, the world's most powerful being and all-around generically-bland good-guy (and blatant Superman metaphor) has gone missing, and the world is blaming Dr. Impossible for his disappearance. The Doc has his own designs on a 13th attempt at world domination. The newly re-formed New Champions, with Fatale in tow, vow to find CoreFire and stop the Doctor. Fatale, meanwhile, spends most of her time figuring out just how she fits into all of the craziness that suddenly swirls around her.

The narrative is very connect-the-dots; no big surprises here, folks, so if suspense is what you crave, then you're barking up the wrong tree. There is also a decidedly predictable reveal in the third act regarding Fatale's origin. However, neither of these apparent shortcomings did anything to take away from my general sense of pleasure in reading this book. This is because the book really shines, or is perhaps even saved, by the well-executed character development.

The character of Dr. Impossible is nothing if not charming, purely for his sheer determination in the face of certain defeat. He has seemingly attempted every conceivable route to world-tyranny, which he makes sure to remind the reader regularly. "How do you take over the world? I've tried everything. Doomsday devices of every kind, nuclear, thermonuclear, nanotechnological, gadgets that fit in a shoe box and that were visible from space. I've tried mind control; I've stolen the gold reserves in Fort Knox, only to lose them again. I've traveled backward in time to change history, forward in time to escape it; I've stopped time altogether to live in a world of statues. I've commanded robot armies, insect armies, and dinosaur armies. Fungus army. Army of fish. Of rodents. Alien invasion. Interdimensional alien invasion. Alien god invasion. Even a corporate takeover, Impossible Industries, LLC. Each time, it ended the same way. I've been to jail twelve times." (p. 72) As you can probably tell, Doc Impossible provides a kind of self-deprecating humor that permeates the book, which is quite refreshing. He knows, in his heart of hearts, that he lives in a world where no matter what he does, no matter what he builds, no matter how well he plans, all of it will be for naught. All of his ingeniously evil creations will ultimately be smashed, and good will prevail. In spite of, or perhaps because of his defeatist mentality, the reader cannot help but pull for him; one holds out hope that all of his effort will amount to something for once; that he'll have his day in the sun (and, of course, bend all of earth's inhabitants to his will).

Fatale's chapters are most winning when she's being introspective, which she often is. Though she's half-woman, half-machine, Fatale is, paradoxically, the most human-feeling character in the book, simply for the range of emotions she confides in the reader. She's a deeply-wounded young woman, both physically and emotionally, with severe issues regarding her ignorance about her origins (not unlike Wolverine and the Weapon X program). Like any real human, she has body-image concerns; she's too heavy, she's too tall, she's got a terrifying half-metal face, she's now incapable of having children, she's worried about how she looks in the team's form-fitting spandex leotard. She doesn't know who she is, where she came from, nor why she currently finds herself battling all manner of mutants, robots, faeries, aliens, magicians, and mad scientists. Trust me, it's all very compelling.

The book is chock full o' comic book and comics industry allusions, as well it should, being its primary reason for existing, it would seem. Two extremely quick 'n dirty examples: the book makes reference to the "Big Breakup" of the 90's, in which the Champions dissolved as a team. I'd like to think that this is obviously a metaphor for when the comics industry bubble burst in 1996 and Marvel Comics declared bankruptcy. Also alluded to is the "royal couple" of the Champions' co-leaders, Blackwolf (basically a good-guy Adrian Veidt) and Damsel (a nearly all-powerful alien princess), a nod to the marriage of Mr. Fantastic and the Invisible Woman.

Having said all this, I do think this book is worth a read for almost anyone. Even if you've only read two comics in your life, you'll be able to pick up on a lot of the innuendo. At best, the book is a gratifying, nostalgic romp through long boxes of yesteryear; at worst, it's a simplistic spandex-clad character piece: a fly-on-the-wall perspective of how a D-list hero makes it onto the world's greatest fighting force and helps save humanity. Hasn't everybody wondered how the heck that happens?

Here is my companion video to this review. Hope you enjoy!