Martin Johns – Page 10 – Son of Stuck Funky

And Then Along Came Jones

Yesterday, I posited that we wouldn’t see any of the strip’s promised action. Well, I guess Tom Batiuk sure showed me! Though I, in turn, would like him to explain Chullo’s remark. How many graduations has he been to, exactly?

I sure hope Mr. Director Man–whose name I do not believe we’ve been given–is prepared to shoot this scene over and over again. If you want a crowd of people running in terror, you don’t want your extras looking like they’re having a fun time. Kinda undercuts what you’re trying to achieve. So for take two, Mr. Director Man, you should tell the crowd to look frightened.

Technically, though, you’re not allowed to talk to the extras, Mr. Director Man. That’s the job of the assistant director; in fact, if a director “directs” an extra–even something like “Hey, you! Get off the set!”–that extra now moves up to become a paid player. Yet another thing to add to the “Tom Batiuk knows nothing about how movies are made” column.

This 24/7/365 Starbuck Jones obsession clearly shows that Tom Batiuk has lost all interest in both of his comic strips. I don’t know why he continues with Funky Winkerbean or Crankshaft–the paycheck, I guess, and the chance to win an award for longevity. There certainly have not been any stories that engaged him that don’t involve Starbuck Jones. The “senior trip” thing recently was an embarrassment, something he felt he had to get out of the way so he could get back to Starbuck Jones. Before that, it was a week of Wedgeman’s class ring. Obviously stuff that a “high school strip” needs, but interesting to no one.

The problem is, as I’ve mentioned before, Tom Batiuk is self-aware enough to know that he doesn’t have the talent to do Starbuck Jones. This is why we’ve never seen Starbuck Jones doing anything in the strip, other than “appearing.” When he had the vintage serial arc, we saw practically nothing of the film but we sure had a lot of people jabbering over it. When a comic book cover is required, someone else draws it. Tom Batiuk has written or drawn nothing of significance regarding Starbuck Jones.

So, aware that if he tried it, he would ruin it, I imagine Tom Batiuk would hire people to write and draw Starbuck Jones. Oh, he would be the editorial supervisor, and make suggestions and create new characters and so forth. In other words–

He would be Brady Wentworth.

Given Mr. Batiuk’s record on wrapping things up quickly, well…I haven’t seen tomorrow’s entry, but it would not surprise me one bit if it’s something like this–

Bear in mind, this is one day after filming in a high school auditorium. Yes, it’s unlikely, but…can you prove that it won’t happen?

That’s it from me, folks! Tune in tomorrow when the fantastic Epicus Doomus takes the center seat. Back to the funway, which is already in progress!

Explosions, Smoke and Chaos (Oh My!)

Link to today’s strip.

I’ll take a guess that we won’t see any of those explosions, smoke and chaos. Heck, we’ve been told about them, isn’t that enough for our ungrateful little hearts?

I still can’t imagine what a high school graduation ceremony has to do with a space adventure film. I guess that’s a failure on my part, because Pete Rossini is such a great writer that he never writes terrible things. He wrote The Amazing Mr. Sponge, for God’s sake! That’s as awesome as you can get without crushing someone’s windpipe.

It’s hard not to notice how the whole Starbuck Jones keeps diminishing. First, it was an epic space adventure with a hero who flew to alien worlds with his robot side-kick. There were aliens and death capsules and an octo-shark. It looked like it might be something…fun. Entertaining. Something expansive and open for adventure, like the Star Trek universe.

Then it started shrinking. Shooting in Cleveland? Well…okay, some CGI overlays could make it appear futuristic. A present-day school bus in a scene? By accident, and the director wants to keep it? Um, well, I dunno…

And now we’re shooting a contemporary graduation ceremony. That seems to have done it–Starbuck Jones has been brought down to earth.

Should the Starbuck Jones movie ever see the light of day, it will consist of Starbuck and Jupiter sitting on the couch watching TV. They’ll be dressed the way suburbanites dress today. They won’t say a word to each other, and we’ll never get a look at what they’re watching. And it’ll go on for two hours.

Or, you know, it might be something fantastic.

That seems to be the consistent nature of Funky Winkerbean: lower your expectations. No, no, lower than that. Holly travels to complete Cory’s comic book collection. Will she learn to wheel-deal, develop her killer instincts? Nope, people will just hand them to her. A Funky-Dick Tracy crossover? Oh cool, maybe shoot-outs and a murder! Nope, Dick and Sam will haul boxes of comic books. And now Starbuck Jones is taking place at Westview High.

I will give the strip this: it has really taught me the limits of my imagination. Every time a story begins, I posit that it will be the dullest, least-creative thing I can imagine. And I’m always wrong.

CTRL-ALT-DULL

Link to today’s strip.

Well!…and that’s that. Anyone who thought that the computer might actually do something has to be contented with some hot wheeled-away action. Yet another disappointment, one supposes, though at least memories of the “fun” Act I weren’t ruined. In other words, it could have been worse. Far worse.

The way things develop in this strip is truly unfathomable; one can’t help but wonder why the computer was brought back at all, except 1) as a tease to long-time readers, only to be dashed to earth, signifying this strip is serious so look elsewhere for “fun”; 2) as a form of “striking the set,” ie, removing anything that might be entertaining, and 3) as a means to mention Starbuck Jones yet again, though Tom Batiuk is slipping by not using his full name. Which “Starbuck” is this, Tom, I’m all confused!

Maybe now that it has, *cough*, contributed, the computer will go to Washington DC on a senior class trip! That should take, oh, half an off-screen panel.

For someone who contributed nothing at all this week, Les sure looks remarkably smug in panel one (though to be fair, that’s his default expression). And in panel two, Tom Batiuk’s itch is finally scratched and Les opens his mouth. Jim Kibblesnbits is a complete ass, but I’m willing to reduce his massive negative score by one for shutting down Les. (Personally, I would have used one fewer syllable, if you know what I mean, but then that’s me.) His stance perfectly conveys utter contempt and disdain. Oh, I’m sure the lesson we’re supposed to take is that Les is so wise and deep, such that no one is capable of swimming in his waters. They’d rather stay in the warm, ignorant shallows. Anyone who has read this strip for any length of time will take the opposing view, that Les is being deservedly beached on his deserted isle.

Jim Kibblesnbits is one of those characters who rarely appears, but like a fly discovered embedded in the lemon meringue, his rarity doesn’t lesson his loathsomeness in any way. He shines out like a rotten, crumbling sun, spraying sickly light on vast dead plateaus and their attendant population of shriveling bacteria and scrubby lichens. Today, though, in this one thing, I give him a half-lidded smirk and the offhand flick of a salute. Here, I wish more people would look to him as an example. (And nowhere else.) He’s been an ass all his life, and he’ll be an ass tomorrow, but tonight by God he’s everyone’s hero.

The three of them walking away from an already forgotten, completely despised Les is a truly poetic image, made more so by the vent lines on the locker near Les’ mouth. It looks like he’s bleating…which he probably is.

Les should be broken in half, placed in a paper bag on your worst enemy’s doorstep, then lit on fire. Ring the doorbell and prepare to be entertained.

Computer Dating

Link to today’s strip.

It seems the slavering monster I was hoping for yesterday has been revised into an old piece of computing equipment. I’m guessing this is the old Act I computer which was obsessed with Star Trek, and um, had, uh, other characteristics I’m sure. Those of you who guessed this, please collect your prize money at the gate. Of course, I think that was everyone who looked at this week’s banner, so form an orderly line, folks.

Normally this would be a welcome thing, seeing this relic from the good old days of the strip…but I don’t know. The last time something from then was brought back…well, I can’t remember what it was but I seem to recall that it was ret-conned into being something terrible. Maybe it was Donna as the Eliminator, or Franky going from dumb jock to out-and-out rapist, or…something. These strips are so anti-content that I honestly forget most of them seconds after reading. (Or at least I give it the ol’ Westview try.) Thus, whenever anything from the “funny” days appears, my reaction is not “Oh boy, we’re going to lighten things up!” but “Oh, God, we’re taking this out of the closet so we can smash it.”

At any rate, the fact that the computer “sighs” can’t be a good sign. Perhaps it has some horrible, debilitating virus, and it wants to be smashed into flinders. Which makes me wonder why Tom Batiuk has never done an “assisted suicide” arc, the story of someone who finds existence so painful that they can’t continue. Certainly there must be a lot of folks in Westview who feel that way and can’t see pain as an opportunity for a pun. Seriously, if he carried it through it might get him that Pulitzer. I’d nominate either Cayla or Funky himself.

Finally, once again, Les hovers over the proceedings like an evil angel of death (even though he’s the shortest one there, a virtual midget). He contributes nothing except making the reader hate this comic even more. Look at him in panel one: “The hate is swelling in you now. Take your weapon. I am unarmed. Strike me down with it. Give in to your anger. With each passing moment you make yourself more my servant.”

Wouldn’t it be great if Kibblesnbits accidentally tipped the computer onto Les, and it smashed his ribcage into a thousand fragments? And he made a noise like “Guuuhhh” and everyone thought that was so funny, and they couldn’t stop laughing? And they picked up the computer, and dropped it again, just so they could hear that noise and enjoy themselves?

I mean, it’s long past time Les did something funny, isn’t it? That would work for me.

In This Corner….

Link to today’s strip.

I dunno, Mr. Director Man, but everyone seems to be smiling at it so it can’t be a hideous, slavering monster that will devour all of you, so it’s hard to care. Naturally Les is right there, because of course he is. My God, what an utterly punchable face. The most loathsome man in the world.

Say, do you know how comic strips are made? Some guy–a cartoonist–scribbles a few bits of artwork down, then erases them and re-draws them until they’re as terrible as possible. Then the cartoonist decides, “How do I feel about my readers? Do I hate them, or do I really hate them?” and he writes down dialog depending on his decision. Then, he decides he really hates his readers after all, and adds Les Moore. If the cartoonist takes more than ten minutes to do all of this, he loses. Does he then start all over until he gets it right? No, don’t be silly, this is cartooning where “losing” is “getting it right.”

…I figured I’d take Tom Batiuk’s knowledge of how movies are made and apply it to a different profession. Because in reality, Jim Kibblesnbits wouldn’t be getting a check–the scene would have been re-shot and the people responsible for on-set security would, at best, be severely reprimanded. And the adults in charge of the field trip would probably be charged with reckless endangerment. Or, if they were lucky and no one saw Kibblesnbits and thus decided to get nasty, trespassing. Obviously, HeyItsDave explained this the other week, but it bears repeating every time Tom Batiuk decides his hard-won ignorance is preferable to how things actually work.

Credit where it’s due: the shift in perspective between panel one and panel two is actually pretty well handled. The presence of Les ruins both panels, but I’m sure he’s only there to represent Tom Batiuk’s middle finger to his critics. His expression for this function is perfect.