Twisted Sisters 2: Drawing the Line
The average female comic-book character has silicone, Barbie-style proportions, shaping her role as suductress, Polyanna, or the always alluring damsel that embodies both. Thank goodness there is still a thriving underground comic world where wide-hipped, flat-chested women find a home on the printed page.
In 1991, the continuation of the 1970s comic Twisted Sisters culminated in a thick anthology of work by female comic artists, Twisted Sisters: A Collection of Bad Girl Art. The book features work by the tenured Diane Noonin and Aline Kominsky-Crumb (creators of the original comic) as well as newer voices like the flamboyantly disturbing Julie Doucet.
Earlier this year, a sequel to the anthology, Twisted Sisters 2: Drawing the Line sneaked out. While it didn't receive the culture-vulture raves the first collection did, it is equally as deserving. There are stories by 16 women artists (some of whom are in the first book, but there are also some new lesser-knowns, like Fiona Smyth) who spin their yarns in very different ways. The tales are largely autobiographical - from playful takes on God and surfing to stripped-bare tales of scary sexual experiences, pursued fantasies and the refraction of adolescence.
While some of the material is light and fun, most of the stories are exposed nerve endings settled in ink onto paper. The characters are tormentingly honest, flawed and sometimes crass, just like real heroines.
Because the underground comic biz is not exactly a thriving, lucrative industry, this is one of the only places you can find works by some of these women. But if any of their stories hook you, you might be able to find current and back issues of some of their comics by couring the walls in the adult section of Monkey's Retreat. A version of this story was originally printed in the Columbus Guardian on November 23, 1995.
A Face in the Crowd
Imagine Rush Limbaugh spouting his litany with a thick southern accent, clad in overalls, guitar in hand, on a stage set that resembled Hee Haw's.
That's the character (albeit trimmer and younger) that Andy Griffith played in his major motion-picture debut, A Face in the Crowd.
The foreboding 1957 classic, directed and produced by Elia Kazan, somehow escaped its rightful place as a cult classic.
The film stars a surprisingly captivating Griffith (Who knew?) as Lonesome Rhodes, a singing boozer discovered by a small-tim radio reporter (Patricia Neal). his impromptu tunes and witty irreverence land him a morning spot on her Arkansas station. As his popularity spreads, he becomes more and more drunk on the power he yeilds to motivate people, whaever the cause. Before you know it, he's transformed from hot-headed Southern individualist into to a power-hungry demagogue who espouses isolationist politics and spurious Christian values.
The pacing of the film is beautiful and the cast is all-star. It is Lee Remick's movie debut, a solid role for Walter Matthau, and it features cameos by Mike Wallace and Burl Ives, among others. If you want yo catch a film that rattles the VCR with all of its prophetic details, rent this one as soon as you can. A version of this story was originally published in the Columbus Guardian on November 23, 1995.
Shot in the Heart
Now that I've read Mikal Gilmore's Shot in the Heart, I can't use the term "hauntingly beautiful" to describe anything again. Maybe you've plowed through the endless pages of Norman Mailer's The Executioner's Song, and you think you know all you need to about killer Gary Gilmore. But Gary's younger brother - a longtime writer for Rolling Stone magazine - has insight into his family that ripples beyond the walls of their home and the boundaries of Mailer's thoughtful research, right into the heart opf American life. Shot in the Heart is a soul-purge for Mikal Gilmore. The reader accompanies him in his journeys through his mother's and father's lives, as well as his brothers, who are all significantly older than he. But rather than leaning on the tedious language of therapy, he delves into the meanings of history, family ghosts, and his own dreams with eloquence and acumen.
Gilmore recounts the folklore of his kin - how his father believed that he was the bastard son of Harry Houdini and his mother feared Ouija boards - as well as truths about young Gary's knack for racing trains and the power of his father's belt.
When the 400 pages are finished, Mikal has become an intimate friend. Beginning with a history lesson about the Mormon tradition of blood atonement for sins, and ending with his brother's bloody death at the hands of the Utah firing squad, Gilmore skillfully brings the story full circle. And to those of us on the outside, he brings a unique insight to the execution that brought the death penalty back into vogue in the United States.
It is a truly gratifying read - and now a more affordable one. Shot the Heart has recently been released in paperback. A version of this story originally appeared in the Columbus Guardian on February 15, 1996