Wednesday, March 25, 2015

You Are Now Leaving The Irish Sector: Berlin, The Decemberists and A Very Efficient Cup System

The lights, the heartbeat percussion from '12/17/12', the atmosphere, the complete improbability of me standing there and the badly poured pint I sipped overwhelmed my senses. One ecstatic thought exploded in my mind: 'I'm in Berlin, with three awesome friends I just met, watching one of the best gigs I've ever seen.' That moment took its place next to a kiss and the first time I got paid as a writer as one of the best nights of my life.



"Please don't strand me in Germany" I typed into Viber using the free Wi Fi in Dublin airport. The message was delivered but not seen as I shuffled onto the humbly sized Ryan Air plane. There was no turning back now. A brief smile flashed across my face as I took my seat next to the window and two attractive women slimly sat in the adjoining seats which I feared could have held an obese armrest-hogging man and a headphone defeating baby. I turned my phone onto airplane mode and joined the finger chewing of the other nervous flyers. But turbulence was the least of my concern at that point. We past clouds, and the Greenwich Mean time zone, and soon landed in the warm embrace of a European metropolis. I stepped onto the soil of this foreign land at the beginning of a seven night trip with €40 in my pocket. No more no less. 
 My hands shook as I handed my passport to the customs officer. "They won't let me down. They can't let me down." I repeated this mantra internally as my iPhone 4 searched hopefully for a Wi Fi signal. The three bars lit up and I was notified of two missed calls on Viber. I rang back hastily.
"Tell me you've got good news..." I pleaded wearily.
A long pause.
"The money's in your account." The voice assured me.
"Oh thank fuck. I knew ye wouldn't let me down. I'm gonna go get lost. I'll give you a buzz tomorrow." 
And lost I got. Berlin's transport system is.... Complex. I finally made it to my hostel after two subway trips, a failed attempt to get the bus and finally a taxi. I was relieved to find that there was a bar inside... Ok I'll be honest I was over the moon. It was a bar where I could stumble upstairs and fall asleep. I thought I had died and gone to Irish heaven! 
 But after an hour or so at the bar, failing to ignite any conversation, a sense of dread washed over me. 
'What am I going to do by myself for 7 days? I'm not exactly a fan of my own company.'
 Then two English guys heard me trying to chat up the barmaid. One turned around, and with an Eastender's accent, quipped: 
"Your accent... You're Italian aren't you?" 
Thus our acquaintanceship was sealed. Kieran and Peter invited me along to gig the following night. 'The Decemberists'. I had actually heard of them on Spotify, but only one song: 'Make You Better'. They assured me that it was on the new album 'What A Terrible World, What A Beautiful World' and would most likely be played. So we made an arrangement to meet at 7pm the next day in the bar. Reminiscent of old school pre-mobile phone rendezvouses or current day roaming charges rendezvouses.
 The next morning I decided to go on a "free" walking tour of Berlin. Participants are collected from the hostel 10.20am. As I got talking to the only other person who opted to join me, he informed me that his roommates invited him to a gig that night but he just found out that it was sold out. I asked were they two English guys named Kieran and Pete? Fate was obviously playing her hand.
We joined a gaggle of fellow tourists and as the tour commenced we pondered between us how such a service was offered for free. Our question was soon answered when the guide informed us that, though the service was technically free, he was not paid by his company but if we felt the tour was worth paying for we could give him money directly. A donation of €15 was suggested. Jordan, my new American friend of Chinese decent, quickly did the maths. With a tour group of between 10-30 people each giving at least €10 and doing 2 or 3 tours a day this guy was making serious bank from free tours. 
Jordan and I spent the rest of the day wandering around East Berlin (getting lost). We decided to visit the venue where the concert was being held and see if any tickets could be purchased at the box office. 
We arrived at a graffiti soaked industrial park where the ghosts of last weekends ravers could still be seen with the right kind of eyes. In lieu of a box office we only saw a handful of hard working entrepreneurs waiting at the gates. Overcome by the sense we were now in a German version of 'The Wire' Jordan and I decided that there was strength in numbers and we would come back later with Kieran and Pete to look for scalpers.

A change of socks later and we came back to find business was booming for our merchants. Inside the gates Jordan was quickly offered at ticket at discount by a party of friends who had a no show. Unluckily for me I was confronted by a scalper who wanted 150% of the ticket price. Obviously from the opening paragraph I was on a tight budget and I declined his offer. Alternative options for the night flashed through my mind. Making my way all the way back to the hostel bar and trying to recruit new drinking buddies seem the safest bet. The night seemed like a bust. But on the river, fate's hand played a straight. 
 A strung out homeless man approached with a sheet of paper with a barcode on it asking for below face value of the ticket. Unsolicited haggling began and I purchased a genuine ticket for a price that allowed both of us to walk away with our heads held high. My white knight shuffled off into the horizon still clutching the crumpled A4 sheet in his yellow withered hands. 
 Inside we were greeted by an almost full auditorium of eager fans and an ingenious plastic cup system where you paid a deposit for a cup and received a blue chip. Upon returning this chip with your plastic cup at the end of the night you got your deposit back. The result was a cupless concert floor. We all agreed that it was this kind of thinking why Germany nearly took over the world. Twice.  



 Colin Meloy took to the stage and was joined one by one by his fellow hipsters as the opening song progressed. If the band sounded as polished as they looked for the rest of the show then we were in for a treat. What followed was one of the most impressive like performances I'd seen since the veteran Nine Inch Nails. His orbiting bandmates swapped instruments through the setlist in a literal game of musical chairs. My view of this was slightly obstructed by the fact, while I may be Irish average height, I am short by Germanic standards. Meloy conducted the audience with master showmanship and geek chic charm. Only slipping up once when he made the geographical faux pas of stating that Germany was a landlocked country during his intro to 'The Mariner's Revenge Song'. But the crowd was too smitten with him at this stage to stay upset.
 They finally did play the song I knew and I belted out the lyrics out of tune and out of key. Long before that though I swayed, was swept up and became a live long fan. My new favourite Decemberists' song is 'A Singer Addresses His Audience'.  A cosmic string of coincidences had me standing in that Astra venue in Berlin and one sound vibrated through the auditorium: the aching refrain 'To belong, to belong, to belong...'

Monday, March 16, 2015

Book Review: 'Bill The Boy Wonder: The Secret Co-Creator of Batman' by Marc Tyler Nobleman


"Now that my long-time friend and collaborator is gone, I must admit that Bill [Finger] never received the fame and recognition he deserved. He was an unsung hero ... I often tell my wife, if I could go back fifteen years, before he died, I would like to say. 'I'll put your name on it now. You deserve it.'" - Bob Kane 1989



Creating superheroes isn't easy. We are currently in an age of a Disney fuelled 'Marvel Universe' burning across our cinema screens. And Warner Brothers are desperately assembling their DC intellectual property to pursue them. This Cinema Space Race is mining the precious ores of diamond ideas that were formed up to 75 years ago. And it is comforting to think that everyone involved in their creation and preservation is credited and handsomely rewarded. Sadly this isn't the case. 

For years Jerry Siegel and Joel Shuster went uncredited and lived in poverty while their character, Superman, made millions for DC comics. It wasn't until after a protracted legal battle (which their estates disputed until 2013) that the two received monitory compensation and, more importantly for the ageing men, health insurance. When DC was obtained by Warner Brothers the executive Vice President stated that they didn't have a legal obligation but moral one to credit Siegel and Shuster as the creators of Superman on all comics, TV shows, and films. Though it is worth noting that their 'obligation' didn't extend to returning to copyright of the character. 

Everyone knows the Batman creation myth. Bob Kane created him in 1939. In  1966 he technicolored himself onto television. Then in the 80s the second coming Frank Millar said "Let the be dark". And wrote his gospels 'Year One' and 'The Dark Knight Returns'; Upon which the current church of Batman is based. 

But certain Bat-agnostics challenge this dogma. Especially Marc Tyler Nobleman wrote the Origin of Species of the Bat universe "Bill The Boy Wonder". In this heretical account, Nobleman claims it was in fact Bill Finger who formed the Batman character as we know him today and created his pantheon of villains. Virtually everything with a 'Bat' prefix from his car to his cave came from the factory of Bill Finger's mind. And even the name 'Gotham' which is now the title of a hit show on Fox. 

Of course how can this be true?  

Bob Kane met Bill Finger at a party in 1938. The two hit it off and Bill came to work for Bob shortly after as a ghost writer. Then in 1939 after the red white and blue success of Superman, DC comics (National Comics at the time) were thirsty for more 'superheroes'.

Bob showed Bill a character he had recently drawn 'Bat-Man'... He didn't exactly look like the dark brooding Batfleck we fawn over or the Adam West Batman strutting down Gotham in broad daylight that we smile at. It's hard to imagine the image below of inspiring thousands of people to get tattoos let alone a billion dollar franchise. 



It was Bill Finger who suggested he don a cowl, have a cape and more resemble an actual bat. Finger, in conjunction with Kane and other artists, created most of The Rogues gallery. Notably the big four: Joker, Catwoman, The Riddler and The Penguin. 

The title of Nobleman's book is 'Bill The Boy Wonder' refers to Batman's child sidekick and 'chum' Robin. Bob Kane created him by telling Finger that Batman needed someone to talk to. A Watson to his Sherlock, so Bill wrote him one. A character that is sometimes derided by Batman movie fans but is every child's gateway into the Batman universe. Watching the stories unfold through his eyes and looking up at Batman in awe. We want to be Batman. We are Robin.

"The Boy Wonder" was also Bob's nickname for Bill. A storytelling savant with a seemingly limitless ability to create characters. Although he did have a reputation as being 'notoriously tardy' and have loose respect for the concept of a deadline. Much to the chagrin of publishers but most put up with him due to the quality of his scripts.

So how did this Bat-History come to pass? Because Bob Kane alone sold the idea to National Comics taking sole credit. The colloquial term in the comics industry  for going uncredited and underpaid is "being Fingered". The real question, and one we'll never get the answer to, is why is Bill Finger allow this to happen? One can only guess at the temperament of the man who originally designed and wrote Batman. He was also the only writer to follow his creation onto the silver screen and write two episodes of Batman 66 'The Clock King's Crazy Crimes' and 'The Clock King Gets Crowned'.
What was he thinking as he sat in the shadows on the sound stage and watched his characters dance to life? 

Featuring magnanimous illustrations by veteran Ty Templton, Nobleman's all ages graphic novel is a touching tribute to a truly unsung hero. The tale is bookended with a more in depth written description for adult readers. And details of the (continuing) investigation can be found at the author's blog: http://noblemania.blogspot.ie