SPAZ ALERT: the trailer for the new Sin City movie went up recently. After much in the way of blood, sweat, and tears, I managed to view it here. Brave the specialized BS downloads of media players, it's worth it. Erotic.
I knew this was coming, since I snapped this last Comic Con.
Needless to say, despite the admirably loyal, noir-as-fuck visuals, the petty elitist in me instantly disapproved.
It's weird, liking comic books. Sin City, like Hellboy, is hardly obscure to most comic geeks, but they still feel like carefully guarded little secrets that we dorks have managed to keep from Most PeopleTM. It's one of the cool little discoveries anyone who wanders even a couple of baby steps outside superhero stuff manages to stumble over. You read it on the subway, because holy shit, does it make you look indie. You lend it out the friends like a Book of Mormon, and try to win geek converts to the cause. And don't lie: You feel superior for liking it. You know you do, you trendy bastard. The Normals don't know what you're talking about when you mention it, and you like it that way.
But then, like Hellboy, a movie gets made. And you're torn.
You like comic books, and you like your favorite authors' work; you wanna see that dumptruck full of cash back up their driveways, because you think they earned it. But out of the corner of your eye, just beyond your field of vision, you see what's up the road.
Deviant Art uploads of someone's "chara" "cosplaying" Marv.
Livejournal communities named "o0o_Marv/Kevin_Shippers_o0o".
Furry Sin City, where everyone's a wolf-llama. With wings.
Bishie anime Hartigan, fifty years younger and pouting.
About fifteen thousand random hacks deciding to rip Miller's style, lock, stock, and smoking barrel.
And precisely when you see the eighty-third chibi-Yellow Bastard, something horrible happens. You decide you don't like what you like nearly as much as you did.
Don't bullshit me, I do it, too. We all do it, at least a little. And I'll admit the trailer looks really, really good. I saw a lot of scenes swiped directly from the comic pages, and the mood and effects are just perfect. Little details that could easily have been committeed out, like swastika-shaped throwing stars, are where they should be, and a lot of the casting is super-appropriate. But it can't be denied: Sin City is going mainstream.
Fuck. I'm losing another baby.
Good thing Nickelodeon is full of bastards. At least it's still okay to like Bone.
