22 Comics I Read in 2018

I don't have a good way to count individual, single-issue comics that I've read over the year, but I also read a bunch of graphic novels and collections. I mentioned in the overview the other day that Bill Watterson's The Complete Calvin and Hobbes was both the longest book I finished (it's three volumes) and the most liked by other Goodreads users. There's nothing to say about the strip that the world doesn't already know, but I was reminded that Watterson is a brilliant cartoonist who's equally excellent at both humor and warming hearts. Reading the series 23 years later, though, I was struck by his observations about culture and how little has actually changed. Social media has amplified some ugly aspects of human nature, but Calvin and Hobbes is a powerful reminder that our biggest problems have always been there.



I also started Charles Schulz' Peanuts archives with The Complete Peanuts, Vol. 1: 1950-1952. Early Peanuts is so awesome. Charlie Brown isn't yet the loser he'll become; he's just one of a group of kids who enjoy each other while occasionally giving each other a hard time. He's an equal member of the group and often an instigator in teasing and mischief.

Initially, the group is him, Shermie, Violet, and Patty (not Peppermint; the other one whom nobody remembers these days, but recognizes when they see her). And Snoopy is there of course, but he's not clearly identified as Charlie Brown's dog until later. He begins as just sort of a neighborhood dog whom everyone takes responsibility for.

Schroeder, Lucy, and Linus are all introduced in this volume (in that order). They each come into the strip as a precocious infant or toddler and then quickly grow into about the same age as the other characters until Schulz decides he needs another younger character and brings in the next one. It's fun to see baby Linus and Schroeder, but it's even more fun watching baby Lucy. She's a high-spirited handful from the start, but not the crabby fussbudget that she'll eventually grow into. The cartoons are often laugh out loud funny, but always sweet and of course well-drawn.



I read several Marvel Masterworks volumes last year, starting with Atlas Era Jungle Adventure. I got partway through the first volume, remembered that I'd read it before, and my memory was that it doesn't get any better than the first couple of stories. I love jungle adventure and I love female characters, but the Lorna stories are especially sexist. She falls for a horrible chauvinist who disrespects not only her, but explicitly all women at every opportunity. The text specifically calls him her "friend" and pretends that this is a normal, healthy relationship. It's gross. The art's pretty good, but not great enough to carry me through the rest of it.

After that, I dug into the early Marvel superheroes, starting with the first three volumes of The Fantastic Four. Stan Lee and Jack Kirby's work on it was as imaginative and exciting as everyone says. It was thrilling to finally read the introductions of Doctor Doom, the Skrull, Puppet Master (and with him Alicia Masters), Impossible Man, the Watcher, and of course the reintroduction of the Sub-Mariner. There's also the first meeting between the Thing and the Hulk, which was super cool.

The constant sidelining of Sue Storm got tiresome, so I still look forward to seeing that change in future volumes. There's a panel in Volume 2 where Reed defends Sue's value to the team by talking about how she keeps up the morale of the male members. Yuck. "Different times" and all that, but it's a huge distraction for me. Volume 2 wraps up with Fantastic Four Annual #1, which is a cool way to close. It's a huge, exciting story in which Sub-Mariner has finally found his lost people and leads them in an invasion of New York City. That battle has some truly exciting moments, even by today's standards.

Then Volume 3 stands out for including the FF's portion of arguably Marvel's first crossover event, though it wasn't heralded that way. It's a sprawling story around the Fantastic Four, the fledgling Avengers, and even the mysterious, new team known as the X-Men as they try to figure out what to do with each other as well as the random destructiveness of the Hulk and Sub-Mariner. And it's quite good.

Speaking of the Hulk, I read the first volume of his adventures, too. Jack Kirby's version is my favorite look for the character and all the art in this collection is a joy. There's one non-Kirby issue, but that was drawn by Steve Ditko, so it's great, too. What's interesting about these stories is seeing Kirby and Stan Lee figuring out how they want to handle the character. He's gray in the first issue, green in the rest, and Bruce Banner's transformations are triggered by everything EXCEPT his emotions. It starts as a nighttime change and by the end of the collection it's something that Banner and the Hulk control with a machine (although an unpredictable one that seems also to have a negative effect). There's also a weird issue or two where the Hulk is mind-controlled by Rick Jones. I'm looking forward to reading other volumes and seeing how long it takes to settle into a status quo for the series. It's all over the place in the beginning, but that's not a complaint.

And finally, for Marvel Masterworks, I finished the first volume of The Avengers. It was a great idea for a series and super fun for the first several issues. The status quo changed constantly with the Hulk's leaving and coming back and leaving again and being chased by the other members and then Captain America shows up... But the series settles into a rut for the last few issues collected here. Once Baron Zemo and the Masters of Evil show up, they keep coming back with various other villains as allies. Captain America's angst and declarations of vengeance against Zemo are especially wearisome.

Over on the DC side (though they weren't DC comics at the time), I read a couple of collections featuring the Captain Marvel family of characters: The Shazam Archives and The Shazam Family Archives. Fawcett's Captain Marvel has been a favorite character of mine since watching the Saturday morning live action TV show in the '70s. He's got an awesome costume and I love the concept of a younger person (a teenager in the TV show; a young boy in the comics) turning into a Superman analog by saying a magic word. This was my first time reading his original adventures.

CC Beck's art is lovably simple, but exciting. That's the highlight here. And just the joy of seeing the same villain, Dr Sivana, reappear over and over again in spite of being constantly defeated. He becomes an awesome archenemy just from sheer, relentless repetition.

Unfortunately, that repetition backfires when it comes to the tone of the collection. The villains' schemes are mostly fun and inventive, but all the stories are the same kind: secret villain has scheme, Billy Batson investigates, uncovers villain, and defeats them as Captain Marvel. They'd be fun read a month at a time, but they were hurt by reading together in a collection like this. I'm curious to get to stories featuring Tawky Tawny and some of the other crazy supporting cast, but hesitant to pick up the next volume. I decided to try some Captain Marvel Jr and Mary Marvel instead, which led me to Shazam Family.

I was initially disappointed to see how heavily skewed Shazam Family, Volume 1 is towards Captain Marvel Jr. I like Mary Marvel much more, but she's only got the one story in the collection. And sadly, there is no Shazam Family Archives, Vol. 2.

But even though it was a much deeper dive into CMJ's early adventures than I wanted, I had a ball with those stories. I even liked them more than the early adventures of Captain Marvel himself. Mac Raboy's realistic art style was way ahead of its time, making CMJ's comics look more like they were created in the '70s than the '40s. And even though the stories rely heavily on two particular, recurring villains (Captain Nazi and Mister Macabre), the plots and settings of those stories vary enough that I never grew bored the way I did with the Captain Marvel volume.

The final collected volume I finished was Edgar Rice Burroughs' Tarzan: The Jesse Marsh Years Omnibus Volume 1. Sadly though,  I couldn't finish it. I expect to struggle through a certain amount of racism in old Tarzan stories, but it is so prevalent in these tales and often coming directly out of Tarzan's mouth, which is not something I'm used to. Marsh's linework is quite good though, so there's some enjoyment to be had just flipping through the drawings.



Finally getting to graphic novels, I started the year with the first two books in Mike Maihack's fun Cleopatra in Space series: Target Practice and The Thief and the Sword. I enjoyed Maihack's webcomic with the same character and premise, but that was a very light adventure and I wasn't confident that the printed version would have the emotional weight I wanted from a graphic novel. It does though. Target Practice is not a collection of the web strips and Maihack knows the difference between the two formats and makes the right changes.

The web comic made sure that there was an action beat or gag on every new installment/page, where the graphic novel is an immersive experience. It gave me the time I wanted to get to know Cleo, her environment, and her friends, and to relate to her predicament. It's still action-packed, super cute, and very funny, but now all of those things are surrounding solid characters.

The Thief and the Sword is a strong follow up. It has all the same charm, plus it expands the universe. I wasn't crazy about the new, thief character, but he's potentially redeemable. My only complaint is that it ends on a cliffhanger. That's not exactly a dislike though, because I'd wanna read the next one anyway.



Koma: The Voice of Chimneys is a short volume about a young chimney sweep who meets a monster. It's building to something bigger, so it was impossible to tell what I'm going to think of the plot, but I like the main character and the art is fantastic. The design of the creature is both spooky and affecting. I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes.



You know I'm all about the pirates, but while Barracuda, Tome 1: Esclaves is beautifully drawn, I don't like any of the characters and the tone is oppressively dark. I'm not reading any more of this one.



I've always admired Rick Geary's linework, but this is the first book by him that I've read. Most of his stuff falls into the category of True Crime, which isn't a genre I enjoy, but this is full-blown fiction featuring one of my favorite actors as the detective. It's an engaging riddle and though I was a little disappointed with the solution itself, I was thrilled with the way it was revealed. I would love to see Geary create more Louise Brooks Mysteries.



Lovely art. Fun characters. It's a bit densely packed for my taste (and eyesight; small panels) and I don't feel like Delilah is as much a character as an idea for a character, but I quite like Mr Selim (the Turkish lieutenant) and I'll be reading the next volume.



Lovely art depicting deep characters in a romantic setting. But while the characters are varied and complicated, I'm not actually all that interested in most of them. Or maybe it's the absence of a central plot that I'm reacting negatively to. I wonder if subsequent volumes begin to develop a stronger story with character arcs. I'm just not decided on whether I want to find out enough to continue the series.



I've been a fan of Kickliy's work for over a decade and it's been fun and rewarding to watch him grow as a cartoonist and storyteller. Perdy is a very naughty Western with great characters, intriguing mysteries, a bawdy sense of humor, and - most of all - a gorgeous visual style. As "Volume 1" suggests, it's not a complete story, but it's a satisfying read and I can't wait for the next installment.



I read the first volume in single issues and was captivated enough that I just bought the rest of the series in collected volumes when I had a chance at a sale. Terry Moore's drawing is always exceptional and he set up a great mystery in Volume 1 around why a dead woman's body was left half-buried in the woods and why she came back to life. Volume 2 answers most of the mystery in order to reveal a conflict that I imagine the rest of the series will work to resolve. Sadly for me, the conflict isn't as intriguing as the mystery was, so I'm not going to rush into Volume 3.

But Moore's skills in creating rich characters and mood are great enough that I enjoy being in the moment with his stories even when I'm not pulled forward by the plot. I will eventually come back and read more.



Butch Guice's art is always great. He has a grounded, realistic style that's just as convincing when he's depicting mythical creatures as when he's drawing everyday people and objects. He's the perfect artist for this kind of Harryhausen-influenced story. And the events of the story are pretty great. There's a mystical island filled with awesome creatures to run away from.

The characters are fine, but they're fairly standard archetypes and no one stands out as a favorite so far (though the villain shows signs of being more than he seems). It's only the first volume, so I'm hopeful that the characters grow on me as they continue to be challenged by the island and their mission on it. It's a good start and I'll keep reading.



Finally, I'm a big fan of Bryan Talbot's steampunk, talking animal mysteries and the way the characters develop and the situations build on each other. I'm an even bigger fan when he's clearly drawing inspiration from James Bond as he is in this volume. Can't get enough of this series.

The Year in Movies: 1931 - Comedy, Drama, and Adventure

Monkey Business (1931)



As we get into the '30s, there are going to be enough movies to talk about from each year that I'm going to split them into genre groups. This week I'll talk about comedies, dramas, and adventure movies from 1931, then next week I'll cover mysteries and horror.

In Monkey Business, the Marx Brothers play a group of stowaways on an ocean liner. The twist is that there are also warring gangsters on board, so one of them hires half of the Brothers to assassinate the other, who's in turn hired the other Brothers as bodyguards. And all this is going on while all four Brothers are being hunted and chased by the ship's crew.

The Marx Brothers' movies are having diminishing returns for me as the same recurring gags continue from film to film, but they're still clever and a lot of fun.

Windy Riley Goes Hollywood (1931)



This is a goofy, not-that-funny comedy about a wise guy from New York who gets mixed up in the movie biz and almost ruins the career of a young actress. Louise Brooks plays the actress and this short talkie is mostly memorable for giving her a chance to be heard. Sadly, her delivery isn't great, but then neither is anyone else's. Like many early sound films, Windy Riley was made by people who are clearly struggling to figure out the best way to use the new technology. I get the feeling that this was meant to launch a series of Windy Riley shorts, but it apparently didn't catch on. I can see why.

The Front Page (1931)



It was tough for me to figure out how to take this one. It's got some dark elements, but is clearly meant to be funny. The problem is that the humor isn't derived from the dark subject matter; it's in spite of it. That makes for a tonally inconsistent movie that also fits with Adolphe Menjou's character, who's absolutely despicable for most of the movie until suddenly he's supposed to be rather charming. I hated him in The Front Page, but for truly charming Menjou, check out Morocco.

I'm curious to see the Jack Lemmon/Walter Matthau remake of The Front Page to see if it fixes anything. I love both those guys, so at the very least I expect I'll be more forgiving.

Mata Hari (1931)



I thought that the fictionalized story of Mata Hari was at least going to be a spy movie, but it's just a horrible, unbelievable, melodramatic romance. Greta Garbo plays the title character who inexplicably decides to give up spycraft out of her unconvincing love of a Russian pilot. There are plenty of opportunities for Garbo to ham it up with overboard drama, but I'm not in.

The Skin Game (1931)



I have a hard time with Hitchcock's early, non-thriller movies, but that's all on me for wanting them to be more like North by Northwest instead of accepting them on their own terms. The Skin Game is a pretty great movie on its own, showing the tragedy when two families go to war against each other.

It's a lot like Romeo and Juliet in that way (and is even based on a play). In fact, the first characters we meet from the two families are a son and daughter who like each other, even if they don't like each others' relatives. Unlike Romeo and Juliet though, the story doesn't focus on the kids. It's all about the parents and the depths of nastiness that they'll sink to in order to gain power over their enemies.

I actually kind of hate Romeo and Juliet and The Skin Game fixes my biggest problems with it. To begin with, it very clearly defines the source of animosity between the two families. The Hillcrists are old money and the Hornblowers are new, but the real clash is over their visions for the rural community in which they both live. The conservative Hillcrists want to preserve the country while the self-described "progressive" Hornblowers want to develop it with factories.

I get the sense that the story isn't really choosing sides; enough characters comment on how nasty both families are being. But it's tough for me not to side with the Hillcrists. That's a surprising place to find myself in because they're so conservative and entitled, but their conservation extends to preserving the land and protecting the tenants who live on it; people whom Hornblower is perfectly happy to evict in order to have cottages for his workers.

In fact, the simmering feud is brought to a sloppy, overflowing boil exactly because Hornblower is tossing out an old couple that he'd promised could keep their home. Hillcrist had sold some land to Hornblower under those conditions, but Hornblower reneges with the explanation that he'd made that promise under the assumption that he'd be able to get some other land that he hasn't been able to acquire. Since those plans fell through, he doesn't feel bound by any assurances he made based on them.

As far as I'm concerned, Hornblower fires the first shot, so it's tough for me to feel badly for his clan, no matter how ruthless the Hilcrists get in fighting him. The script tries to increase the Hilcrists' culpability by having Mr. Hilcrest say at the end that he'd forgotten all about the old tenants. The implication is that he got caught up in hatred for its own sake. But even if he forgot his reasons for going to war, I never did.

It's not that I feel that the justness of the Hillcrests' cause also justifies all their actions. But it does put me on a particular side early in the movie and nothing happens to pull me off of it. The Hillcrests' ruthlessness takes the form of their learning a nasty secret about a member of the Hornblower family and being willing to use it to extort good behavior from the Hornblowers. There's some debate to be had here, but my feeling in the movie is that the Hornblowers are acting so dishonorably that if they're going to have nasty secrets, then those can be used against them to make them do what they should have been doing in the first place. The movie doesn't think so though, and I imagine that there are viewers who agree with it. It's a great topic for discussion.

I also love that the film ends as it begins, on the son and daughter who like each other. The story doesn't focus on them as it unfolds, but it does check in on them a couple of times and their friendship has been tested through these events. The final shot is of their reaction to the tragedy that's been done: they grab each other's hand.

In Romeo and Juliet the tragedy happens to the young people and makes the old folks put aside their differences in response. In The Skin Game the old people more directly suffer the consequences of their deeds while the young people promise that things are going to change in their generation. I much prefer the strength and hope of the latter message.

Sea Devils (1931)



Super low budget movie about an escaped convict who stows aboard a ship with mutinous treasure-hunters in order to find the ones who framed him for murder. It's complicated a little by the presence of the captain's daughter, but mostly it's a straightforward plot and told simply. It's short though and I enjoyed it.

Corsair (1931)



Great concept about a disgruntled stock broker who takes to piracy to hurt his former boss' extra-curricular bootlegging operation. But it ends up in this weird place where our "hero" - having taken down his enemy - rejoins him in business and renews a romantic relationship with the boss' awful, manipulative daughter. Instead of giving them their comeuppance, he validates that they were just fine all along. Ugh.

Rich and Strange (1931)



I'm always nervous when adultery plays a major role in a movie, because I hate when it's glamorized. That's not the case here though in this early Hitchcock story about a couple who take a long, ocean voyage and are both tempted to be unfaithful. Both spouses make mistakes - one way more than the other - but the movie is honest and serious about exploring the consequences of those actions.

It reminds me some of the theme of Gone Girl, about the masks that we wear, even in marriage. But unlike Gone Girl, Rich and Strange deals with the unmasking in a real, human way and I love it for that. Joan Barry is especially powerful in her role and I'm sad that she retired from filmmaking a few years after this.

Not an easy movie to watch, but worth it in the end. I'll probably enjoy it even more next time.

Law of the Sea (1931)



This made a cool double-feature with Rich and Strange since both are about infidelity and life at sea. Rich and Strange more closely connects the two by testing the commitment of a married couple on a long, ocean voyage. In Law of the Sea, a young sailor is tempted by the cousin of his fiancée.

This happens on shore, but sea life is very much part of the movie, especially since the young sailor still struggles with a tragic incident that occurred at sea 20 years earlier. Unfortunately, it's just as he's trying to come to terms with his feelings about the two women that he's also forced to confront the instigator of his childhood tragedy. That's a lot to deal with and the movie handles it well, up to a point. That point is the last scene, which wraps things up more quickly and neatly than I'd like, but Law of the Sea is still an interesting movie.

The Year in Movies: 1929

The Mysterious Island (1929)



About the only thing this movie has in common with Jules Verne's novel is the title, but that's a-okay. There is a reclusive scientist (Lionel Barrymore) with a submarine on an island; it's just that everyone knows he's there. Which is too bad for him when a former friend (character actor Montagu Love, who's probably best known as Zorro's dad in the Tyrone Power version) wants to steal his technology in order to power a military coup.

The new plot is pretty great though. There's a romance between Barrymore's sister (Jacqueline Gadsdon, who has a small role in It) and one of the lead workers on the submarine project (Lloyd Hughes, who was Ed Malone in the 1925 Lost World movie). Better than that is how things spin out of control once Love's character invades the island. Barrymore's two subs fall into hands on opposite sides of the conflict, leading to an undersea battle and ultimately to the discovery of an undersea city, merpeople, and a giant octopus. Totally fun.

The Manxman (1929)



It's hard for me to like this early Hitchcock melodrama about two friends in love with the same girl. Mostly that's because Anny Ondra and Malcolm Keen's characters have to make ridiculous decisions in order to drive the plot. But once I'm past that, I do enjoy the drama of the position they put Carl Brisson's character in. And the Isle of Man is a great setting for the story.

Pandora’s Box (1929)



It's rough to watch the characters in Pandora's Box - especially Louise Brooks' - go through the ringer the way they do. Some of it's their own doing, but not all of it. Some of it they do to each other and it becomes a depressing spiral into despair. And yet there's a glimmer of hope at the very end for one of the characters, even though it's made possible by something horrible that happens to one of the others. Thoroughly sad, but capped with just a hint of catharsis.

The Canary Murder Case (1929)



I had high hopes for William Powell and Louise Brooks together in a murder mystery, but sadly, this is no Thin Man. I've seen a couple of other Philo Vance movies (at least one other one with Powell and the one with Basil Rathbone, for sure) and I'm not crazy about the detective. Powell and Rathbone are both too cool for the dandy that I feel like Vance is supposed to be, and neither is as awesome as Vance as they are as Nick Charles and Sherlock Holmes. Vance comes off as an also-ran kind of character and The Canary Murder Case is about that level of story.

Brooks plays an evil nightclub performer with a long line of jilted and/or blackmailed men who would benefit from her death. After A Girl in Every Port and Pandora's Box I'm tired of seeing Brooks play snotty, entitled characters, so already we're off to a bad start. The mystery is also pretty easy to figure out, even though the way the killer covered their tracks is ludicrously unbelievable. I still like seeing two of my favorite actors onscreen, but I kept wishing I was watching them in something else.

The Iron Mask (1929)



Speaking of wishing I was watching something else, I'll never complain about Douglas Fairbanks, but for spoilery story reasons, I prefer other versions of The Man in the Iron Mask to this. I've never read the novel, so maybe this one is totally faithful, but I still don't care for how it ends. It also takes a crazy long time to set up the Iron Mask scenario.

I'm not thrilled either with the device of turning the movie into a talkie by having Fairbanks simply narrate over silent movie footage. Fairbanks has a great voice and I don't particularly miss intertitles, so it's fine from a creative standpoint. It just feels like a cheap way of making a sound version when other productions were doing things like having actors dub their voices onto an audio track.

Ultimately, if I want to see Fairbanks playing D'Artagnan, I'll re-watch his version of The Three Musketeers.

Blackmail (1929)



Hitchcock gets more into thriller territory with this story about a woman who kills in self-defense, but wants to cover it up. And as the title suggests, someone makes that difficult for her. Complicating matters is the case's getting assigned to her police detective boyfriend. It's a great setup with some tense moments, but sadly it doesn't wrap up very well. The ending is rushed and its unclear how events have affected the characters.

The Cocoanuts (1929)



Probably my favorite Marx Bros movie. I never know what Zeppo contributed to the group, but it has strong bits by Groucho, Harpo, and Chico. Especially great are the two-rooms scene, the auction, "Why a duck?," and Harpo's reaction to boring speeches.

Diary of a Lost Girl (1929)



After the thoroughly depressing Pandora's Box, I wasn't sure I was ready for another Louise Brooks/GW Pabst collaboration, but Diary of a Lost Girl is beautiful and lovely. It's the antithesis of Pandora's Box, which was about a woman whose own flaws were largely responsible for her downfall. In Diary, Brooks plays a woman whose fall is no fault of her own, but because of the cruelty and heartlessness of people who are supposed to be looking out for her. She makes the most of it though and finds first a modicum of joy, and then finally a new family and purpose. It's uplifting and challenging at the same time. Loved it.

The Virginian (1929)



It's surprising how many parallels there are between this and High Noon, starting with their lead actor. Both sort of end up being about a lawman who has to face an enemy over the objections of his new wife. But where Will Kane is frustratingly inscrutable in High Noon, making him seem selfish and proud, I know exactly what drives the original Man With No Name.

The Virginian spends plenty of time setting up the conflict between its anonymous title character and Trampas, the villain. It's because of Trampas (in part, anyway) that the very sweet friendship between the Virginian and his best pal goes horribly wrong. That's not enough to force the showdown though and Trampas continues needling Cooper's character until he feels he has no choice but to throw down in the town's streets. When the Virginian explains this to his fiancée (Mary Brian, who was Wendy in 1924's excellent Peter Pan) she doesn't understand, but I do. And the film's spent enough time on her that I also understand why she doesn't.

Tarzan the Tiger (1929)



Tarzan the Tiger has some of the problems that many serials do with the same groups of characters being captured by, escaping from, and getting recaptured by the same groups of other characters. But not to the extent of, say, Son of Tarzan. For the most part, Tarzan the Tiger stays fresh and moves quickly. Some of that's because it mixes up the scenery between Tarzan's jungle mansion, the jungle itself, an Arab slave camp, and the hidden temple-city of Opar. Villains are defeated through the course of the story and new ones come along to take their place, though there are a couple of consistent ones, too. Allegiances shift. It's an above-average serial.

Frank Merrill is an impressive Tarzan, physically. He wears a goofy wig and headband - and I'm never excited about the look of over-the-shoulder furs - but he's ripped and handsome. Natalie Kingston is a great Jane, too. She needs saving a couple of times, but she saves Tarzan too and there's a way of watching the serial in which she's the hero and he's the MacGuffin. When he goes missing in the jungle, she throws on her own junglewear and heads out in search of him. By the end, they're a team, with neither overshadowing the other.

The Year in Movies: 1928

Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928)



One of my favorite Buster Keaton films (Top Three with The Navigator and The General). The hat shopping bit is great and has a perfect payoff. I've also become a fan of Ernest Torrence, who plays Keaton's father. He and Keaton are perfect against each other, which reminds me of another great scene when Keaton tries to smuggle escape tools in a loaf of bread to his jailed dad. Also, Marion Byron is super cute as Keaton's girlfriend.

A Girl in Every Port (1928)



I was looking forward to seeing a Howard Hawks film starring Louise Brooks, but A Girl in Every Port is disappointing. It's the ultimate Bros Before Hos movie with a couple of womanizing bullies who fight and philander their way around the world. Brooks plays an equally awful woman who almost comes between them. I like that she's in the movie - and that so is Robert Armstrong, who went on to play Carl Denham in 1933's King Kong - but I wish that I liked either of their characters.

The Farmer's Wife (1928)



I blind-bought this a while ago because Early Hitchcock, knowing that it's not his usual genre, but curious anyway. Realizing that I remembered almost nothing about it, I watched it again and was reminded why it hasn't stuck with me.

The farmer of the title is a stupid, arrogant man who decides that enough time has passed since the death of his wife that he should remarry. He's not in love with anyone; it's just time. So he goes about it methodically, making a list of prospects and then proposing to them one by one. He rightly observes that none of these prospects have other prospects of their own, but the conclusion he draws from that is that any of them should realize how lucky they are to receive his proposal. Which he pretty much tells them as he's proposing. To his shock, they all turn him down. They give various reasons, but the fact that he's an ass is an unspoken one. His confidence begins to dwindle, rejection by rejection.

All the while, there's a wonderful woman in his household whom he doesn't consider even though her perfection is loudly obvious to the viewer. What's going to happen next is predictable every step of the way, except for two things.

One is that the film occasionally meanders from its plot to share cute sequences with some of the other characters, whether it's the farmer's servants or one of his prospects. These are generally enjoyable, but they did have me looking at the time to see how long the movie was spending on them.

The other surprise is better though, and that's how sweet the conclusion actually is. What happens may be telegraphed like crazy, but once the movie gets there, I'm genuinely happy to see the couple realize their feelings for each other. That has a lot to do with Lillian Hall-Davis' lovable performance as Minta - I wanted so much for her to be happy - but also something to do with the farmer's finding enough humility that he's no longer insufferable. In real life, I'm sure he goes back to being a jerk once he regains his self-respect, but in the final moments of the movie, I'm rooting for the new couple.

Easy Virtue (1928)



Another early Hitchcock outside the genre he became so well known for. Easy Virtue is an effective, but depressing story about the power of gossip, speculation, and the court of public opinion. Those things all make me cranky enough that I can't say that I enjoyed the film, but it's as relevant as ever and of course wonderfully directed.

The Man Who Laughs (1928)



Conrad Veidt's disturbing grin in The Man Who Laughs was the visual inspiration for The Joker, so that - plus liking Veidt in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Casablanca - is what drew me to watch it. Then I was reminded that Mary Philbin (The Phantom of the Opera) is in it and that it's based on a Victor Hugo story and I was even more excited.

It's an amazing film that uses horror-movie tricks to tell a story that isn't horror at all. It combines elements of the German Expressionism in Caligari and Nosferatu with the lavish productions of movies like Phantom and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The tone of the movie is similar to Hunchback (also based on a Hugo novel, of course), which isn't a horror movie either, but I think of it as one thanks to Lon Chaney's awesome makeup. Same goes with The Man Who Laughs and Veidt's smile.

Like Hunchback, it's the story of a disfigured man who loves a beautiful woman. Unlike Quasimodo though, Veidt's Gwynplaine has a hope that his love may be returned. In fact, blind Dea (Philbin) openly loves him; he just has a hard time accepting it. On top of the romance are layered political complications since some powerful people have figured out that Gwynplaine is unknowingly the son of a nobleman. Brandon Hurst is delightfully sinister as a Machiavellian opportunist who uses his knowledge of Gwynplaine to win favor from the Queen, and Olga Baclanova is crazy seductive as the noblewoman who now possesses Gwynplaine's estate.

It's a captivating story with characters I loved. Another for the list of silent films that make great introductions to the format for someone who hasn't given them a try.

Beggars of Life (1928)



I watched a murky, pixelated version of this on YouTube, but still enjoyed it. I love rooting for Louise Brooks' characters, which is something that I can't always do. Beggars is exciting, sad, scary, and heart-warming. Heavier on the sad than I like, but worthwhile.

The Year in Movies: 1926

The Black Pirate (1926)



Douglas Fairbanks plays a nobleman who pretends to be a pirate in order to take down the buccaneers responsible for his father's death. There's a love story too of course when they capture a ship with a princess aboard. And naturally our hero comes into conflict with the previous leader of the pirate gang, who also has an interest in the princess.

A lot of the elements are predictable, but there are complications to keep it interesting. And that's in addition to the amazingly athletic swashbuckling that Fairbanks is so excellent at. My print doesn't have a real score, but just some generic orchestral music, so that's my only complaint. One of the first pirate movies is also one of the best.

The Bat (1926)



I'm really fond of the 1959 version starring Vincent Price and Agnes Moorehead, so I wanted to see this one adapting the same play. Now I need to see the Price one again to compare, because I think I may actually like this one even better. The plot's basically the same - a killer called The Bat terrorizes a bunch of people in a mansion that may have a lot of money hidden in it somewhere - but the '26 version surprised me with how gorgeous it is. The sets are huge and extravagant, the shots are dark and stylish, and the Bat's costume is amazing: basically a trench-coated man who wears an elaborate bat mask with huge, fur-covered ears and a working mouth.

My only issue with the film was the soundtrack on the print I watched. I rented it from Amazon where the score is relentlessly dull trance music that kept putting me to sleep. It's atmospheric, but doesn't go well with the movie's many comedic moments. I was captivated by the story and the look of the film, so I persevered, but finally muted the sound and listened to some Sisters of Mercy while I watched. It still didn't fit perfectly, but at least it wasn't boring.

It’s the Old Army Game (1926)



So that's me smitten with Louise Brooks then.

I wanted to check out some Brooks movies and started with this one because it's the earliest that I have access to. I'm also familiar enough with WC Fields to know that I generally like him, so that made it a safe introduction, too.

There's a loose plot about Fields' character getting involved with a land scheme (the movie's title refers to con games), but mostly it's a series of unrelated gags that go on longer than they should. Like when Fields takes his family out for a picnic and has it on the lawn of some rich guy's house. The running joke about the animosity between Fields and his young nephew is especially tiring. The actor playing the nephew was 11, but the character sleeps in a crib and rides in a baby carriage part of the time, so I don't know how old he's supposed to be.

The frustrations are all worth it whenever Brooks shows up though. She's beautiful and charming and absolutely captivating every time she's on screen. Looking forward to seeing some of her other films.

Battling Butler (1926)



A really early version of the tropey romantic comedy formula where a misunderstanding or lie snowballs and threatens to break up our couple if the secret gets out. And rather than having a grown-up conversation about it, the lead character perpetuates the lie, breaking the other person's heart and requiring a big gesture to set things right.

Because it's Buster Keaton, it still works for me, but it relies more on the situation for laughs than on Keaton's physicality. In fact, Keaton's playing a wimp, so his athleticism is intentionally de-emphasized.

The General (1926)



This one's probably the first Buster Keaton movie I ever saw. It's a great introduction because it's essentially a feature-length chase scene. (I've heard it compared to Mad Max: Fury Road, which is kind of appropriate.) There's some introductory stuff to set the stakes, but even that's very funny and once we get to the train chases, it's just gag after gag after gag. And they all work.

A potential drawback for modern viewers is that Keaton's playing a loyal Confederate in the Civil War. The movie isn't overtly political and the reasons for the war are never mentioned, but The General makes a strange companion piece to The Keeping Room, which also depicts the Union Army as the bad guys. I certainly don't want that to be the only - or even primary - way we talk about the Civil War, but I do think it's valuable and necessary to remember that there were multiple perspectives on that conflict.