Darin – Page 56 – Son of Stuck Funky

The Jerks Who Irk

It’s been said far too many times before. Here are two clods given a once in a lifetime opportunity for a dream job, and all they can do is moan and bitch, bitch and moan. The appropriate reaction from Mr. Toothpaste-Tube would be to say, “Okay, guys, we’ve had enough–if you can’t cooperate with us and produce something, if all you can do is smirk and make moronic remarks, we really don’t need you. So get your stuff and get out. And remember, you signed NDAs so don’t even think about posting anything online. Prison hasn’t gotten any nicer, and don’t believe anyone who says a spell inside will build character.” I’m sure that if Mason Jarr the Actor objected, he’d be told, “Okay, so you don’t want to be part of this franchise and want to go back to made-for-TV weepers. That can be arranged.” I’m sure Mason Jarr the Actor would suddenly remember what “professionalism” means.

You’d expect Pete and Darin to be interested in a title like that. It’s no worse than a Marvel or Lucasfilm title. It’s actually imaginative. And, when your main claims to fame are The Amazing Mister Sponge and illustrating a Les Moore comic book, respectively, I don’t think you have the right to criticize the works of others. Not by a long shot.

Seriously, these characters are infuriating. Fortunately, Mr. Toothpaste-Tube is doing his voodoo mouth-twich in the last panel, and we can see both Darin and Pete withering to dust right before our eyes.

When a cartoonist is clearly tired of producing work, and would far rather day-dream about an imaginary comic-book company, it’s time for that cartoonist to seriously consider retiring. Instead, what he does is create two characters–an “artist” and a “writer” so both jobs are represented–and give them the same disdain for work and longing for nostalgia. I guess in the case of the characters, Bantom Comics is (or was) a real-life publisher, so at least they’re waxing nostalgic about things that actually happened. Not that I think that’s any better; wasted effort is still wasted effort, no matter the inspiration.

The only thing of interest here is Mr. Toothpaste-Tube. Really, that guy is just weirding me out. He looks like Butt-head’s dad.

“Huh-huh, huh huh huh. Producers are dumb.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heh heh heh heh heh heh. It’s like, they demand things of true artists.”

“Uh…what? Huh-huh, huh huh huh.”

“Ahhh…I dunno, Butt-head, you tell me. Heh heh heh heh heh heh.”

Where Dreams Go to Be Smashed to Flinders

Link to today’s strip.

One thing I neglected to mention about yesterday’s episode…and I have to confess, I didn’t mention it because it seemed so ordinary that comment never occurred to me. But later I realized that it was ordinary in the real world, and not in Funky Winkerbean. In Funky Winkerbean, it was the proverbial sore thumb, and it shoulda stuck out like one.

Of course, I’m talking about the fact that Becky got a smart-phone app, and she was happy with it. She was pleased with what she got, and looked forward to using it.

It was not, repeat not, something substandard that had foisted upon her by an uncaring school administration. She didn’t even moan once!

By way of contrast, look upon the Dozing Dullards out in Hollywood, who upon hearing that the movie they are working might be certain of box-office success, can do nothing but bemoan the extra work that will befall them. Oh, the horrors of success! Oh My GOD I have to work even more?

Well, Pete–and you too, Darrin–there’s a very simple solution that will cause all your problems to disappear, and you can leap about in unending joy.

Quit. Go on up to Clay Breakdance (or whatever his name is) and tell him you’re tired of all the effort that is expected of you, and that you (so far) seem to have failed to provide. You’re both tired of working, and it’s really cutting into your nap time, and your nostalgic day-dreaming about Bantom comics. I’m sure his lips will curl just a bit as he accepts your resignations. Clay will be happy to bring in a crew who actually want to work, and don’t look upon every suggestion as a knife in the back.

And there’s a bonus for both of you! When the movie is released some months hence, and proves to be a box-office smash, you can bemoan the fact that you were cheated out of all that money. And that, no doubt, will trigger even more flashbacks.

Win-win, I say. Now, now, I know those are dirty words in the Funkyverse, but as they say–faint heart never won bitter regrets.

(It kind of makes me wonder what sort of movie Pete and Darin would make if they had complete control–what sort of cinematic turd would satisfy their notion of purity. I should note that it doesn’t make me wonder enough to actually see that movie, or hear them talk about it.)

PS: No idea who the very detailed gentleman is, but he sure seems to be someone from Real Life. Perhaps someone who lost a bet–that’s my guess, anyway.

Why So Blue?

Link To Today’s Strip

What the hell went wrong with the inking here? Why does it appear that Mopey Pete is wearing some sort of blue veil and glove combo? That crack Batom Inc. quality control team is something else again, eh? Nice work, you boobs.

I assumed they’d be jabbering about Jupiter Moon all week, but nope, instead it’s yet another remarkably clumsy segue into yet another pointless retro-pseudo sepia faux-flashback, this time featuring Cigar McBalding’s googly-eyed new car. I seriously doubt there will be ANY merchandise loot at all if these two imbeciles don’t finish writing that goddamned movie already. Now I’m no expert or anything, but I doubt the “Starbuck Jones” license holders will be too interested in sharing the wealth with a couple of whiny work-slacking goof-offs who wearily complain every time they’re given a task to complete. Just a few months ago Boy Lisa was slinging pizza in Westview, now he’s a Big City storyboarder working on a “red-hot” new superhero film, yet all he’s doing is bitching about it. Typical Westviewian, nothing’s ever good enough.

The Ghost Who Balks

Link to today’s strip.

Don’t know what I can say about this. Frank Brunner is a really great artist, and that’s a heck of a cover–it makes me want to read the comic inside. Too bad Tom Batiuk had to junk it up with his own stuff, the sad, miserable “creators” that live in his sad, miserable comic strip. I think he should abandon the idea of a Sunday strip that references his characters, and just do comic book tributes every week. Just the covers, no stupidity in the margins. I’d like that; at least the artwork would be good, and we’d get less of these smelly, trollish creatures that proudly wallow in their own mire.

Once again, there’s not a joke to be had here, but I am amused that The Idiotwins think that “spongetonite” stinks as a concept, to the extent that it cannot be associated with…The Amazing Mr. Sponge. Really, the dumbest non-parody superhero of all time, and apparently he’s just too good for “spongetonite.” That is rich.

At present I have no idea what Monday will bring. Possibly more of The Idiotwins tolling in comic-book Hell, with an unhinged Brady fuming that his ideas were squelched, although I would note this: that would be something interesting, that would develop a story beyond just stating a concept and smirking…so that probably means we’ll get Les watching the “For Les” tape. Or Funky at the gym, haven’t had one of those in a while.

We can be certain of only this: it won’t be funny, it will be dull, and it will be excruciatingly padded.

Dung

Link to today’s strip.

Sigh. So, tomorrow (Sunday) we get to look forward to another comic book tribute. Hey, why not, it sure saves writing and drawing effort on Tom Batiuk’s part, and the artwork is usually not too bad.

Now, I’m no expert in comic books–thank goodness–but it sure looks like Cigar McBalding is holding a finished proof in his hands. If he’s asking for a cover change at this stage, he’s either a moron or has so much money he can afford to throw lots of it away. (Or, to be fair, both.) This things is ready to roll off the presses–it’s a bit late to be making major changes.

This episode contrasts with the others this week. In those, Cigar McBalding suggested “improvements” to be implemented in the future (at least he discusses it with the creative team, unlike the people at Cable Movie Entertainment who just present a list of demands). In those episodes, at least he steered the folks toward what he wanted. Today, he’s looking at something that (presumably) he approved, and wants changes made way late in the process.

Sigh again. If Tom Batiuk’s fantasy world consists of crass publishers and beleaguered writers…man, that’s just too depressing to think about. Imagine Sam Lowry from Brazil daydreaming about being buried under tons of garbage…and liking it.

Another example of a “who cares” episode, by which I mean more evidence that Tom Batiuk just doesn’t care any more. It seems to be obvious that he would rather be eating cookies, drinking hot chocolate, and reading old issues of The Flash in the attic rather than put any time or effort into his work. (This seems worrisome. Is is possible for nostalgia to become a mental disorder? I’m serious.)

There’s no joke here. There’s no here here. There’s also a deliberate blindness here. If he’s so passionate about genuine creativity being pushed aside by crass mediocrity, why is his comic strip taking up space that could be used for something good?