Pow! Motion Comics Make a Splash

This post also appears on the Brogan Blog: http://www.brogan.com/blog/pow-motion-comics-make-a-splash/

Take four scoops of a comic book, two teaspoons of a Hollywood film, a side of new media and you’ll have yourself one delicious helping of a motion comic.

In this new medium, companies like Gain Enterprises, scan pictures from an existing comic book, hire voice actors, add sound effects, and then include some of their own animation to make the motion comic.

“I like to think of it as cinematic comics — digital cinematic comics,” said David Gale, executive vice president of MTV New Media, in a interview with The New York Times.

One of the comic industry’s most loved franchises is flying fearlessly into the new medium. In preparation for the most anticipated movie of 2009, The Watchmen, a motion comic has been created containing all twelve issues of the original series.

Watchmen’s first chapter is available for free download on iTunes until August 2nd. After that, each chapter will cost $1.99.

According to Diamond Comics Distributors, DC comics (the publisher of Batman) sold an estimated 274,035 Batman comics last month. Compared to the 45,805,055 tickets sold so far of The Dark Knight, one can assume a lot more people are watching comic movies than they are actually buying comics. (Just to be fair, Iron Man’s publisher, Marvel, sold 156,239 Iron Man comics and the Iron Man movie has 44,487,003 sold tickets so far).

So, how do you market a comic book movie to people that aren’t reading your comic? Just scan the comic and make it look like a movie!

Another comic series, Invincible, who’s own movie is apparently (according to the rumor mill) about to start pre-production, is having the first motion comic television series starting on MTV2 this fall. A video preview is posted below:

<a href="http://www.mtv.com/" target="_blank">Invincible Episode #1</a>

Invincible Episode #1

Is it pure genius or just hard to watch?

“I don’t know…I have a hard time reading and watching the pictures at the same time,” said Brogan employee Jo Lynn Agee. She is a big fan of the CW’s Smallville (the young adventures of Superman) and several comic movies but actually got sensations of motion sickness watching Invincible. Although, she did say the images looked very good.

“I really liked it. It was a throwback to the comic cartoons I used to watch as a kid,” said another comic book movie fan, and Brogan employee, Ennis McGee. He added, “I could have watched a whole episode.”

It looks like time will have to tell if the motion comic is an effective marketing tool, new form of media, or an experiment gone wrong.

Yeah, Pretty Much

Following up on my post yesterday, "Nobody Gets Me", I wanted to mention the fun gene is not dead in the Molnar family. Despite its dormant period this summer, I have found evidence that we can really let loose sometimes.

My little brother has even dressed up before! Yep, I found evidence from 2005 that he wore a Skywalker hockey jersey and brought a lightsaber to the premiere of Revenge of the Sith!



Also, my mom, in particular, really knows a thing or two about fun. She has visited me in London, Chicago, and San Francisco. In California, I even made her live in the woods for a week and hang out with a bunch of fifth graders! She loved it. On a trip to Alcatraz, evidence of my mom's fun gene, in full effect, is expressed in three words below: Yeah. Pretty. Much.



Despite my frustration of the now famous "Batman costume ordeal of July 2008", I love my family very much and think they are all way awesome...Even if they don't like dressing up in crazy outfits for movie premieres.

Updated Website

I hadn't updated it with any new articles since I left for California.

I put articles from a few Silicon Valley newspapers, Socialist Worker, the San Joaquin Outlook, and an unpublished number on it.

http://www.phillipmolnar.com

Thanks!

Outdoor School has Salamander Fever

A shorter version of this story appeared in the May edition of Outlook: The newsletter for the San Joaquin County Office of Education.

“Now that was fun…even though I got wet,” said Antonio Delatorre, a 5^th grader from George W. Bush Elementary in Stockton, after spending two hours searching for salamanders.

Now in its 50^th year, the San Joaquin Outdoor School has been offering fifth and sixth grade students the opportunity to choose an activity of their own for several decades. The electives, as they are called, give the students a chance to choose an activity of low, medium, or high energy on their third day at camp.

The newest elective, a high energy salamander hunt, has been a phenomenon for the school.

“I thought maybe I was on to something,” said Naturalist Intern Squirrel. “When 47 students signed up for the hunt my first time, I knew I had struck a cord with them.”

Squirrel has been leading an average of 25-50 “salamander hunters” into the redwood forest of the Santa Cruz Mountains for several months and it continues to be one of the most popular electives the school has ever had.

“I think he has done a stellar job creating a multifaceted event,” said Site Director Aileen Murphy. “It’s something that is both educational and also has an element of personal discovery that the students don’t always get. [The students] can see salamanders as a living, breathing creature that is moving around in their hands…you don’t get that kind of reaction with a banana slug,”

The 25-year-old Squirrel started work at the Outdoor School in January and knew he wanted to come up with something special for electives: “I wanted to give the students the option to have a good time, but I also wanted to create something I could enjoy myself.”

“During our first couple weeks of training I loved the few minutes when we were allowed to search under logs, rocks, and in ponds for salamanders. I always wanted to stay longer, so I figured the kids would probably want to as well.”

The elective he crafted has four parts. First, all the students must learn about the four types of salamanders in the forest they are going into: the slender, California newt, Ensantina, and the elusive Pacific giant salamander. Students are treated to a singing of the “Silly Salamander Song,” view pictures, and learn proper technique for holding salamanders.

Second, students head into the woods for a preliminary hunt.

“This is where I let the students get their feet wet. They usually are a bit skeptical that we will even find salamanders, so after they see a few slenders or newts, the blood really starts flowing,” said Squirrel.

After this introduction to the world of salamander searching, Squirrel leads them through the woods at a frenzied pace. He keeps the energy up by running down hills yelling “charge”, doing a salamander hunt chant (“When I say salamander, you say hunt!”), and by constantly referring to what he calls the “mother load” of salamanders, a mysterious place called Winter Pond.

Next, the students partake in the “traditional face-painting of the historic salamander hunters.” Basically, Squirrel just has them rub the burnt charcoal of a redwood tree all of their faces, but at this point they are so excited they forget they are even students at an outdoor school – they are full blown salamander hunters ready to turn over every log and rock in the forest.

Finally, after a mad, screaming run to the final location, students arrive at the beautiful Winter Pond. The pond is surrounded by dozens of logs to search under and a pool of water that serves as grand central station for the entire California newt population.

Students stare in wonder as newts swim in the Pond. “I like the newts the best…because they swim like an alligator,” said Delatorre.

If Squirrel is present, they are allowed to pick up the salamanders. Unlike indoor school, students’ hands need to be dirty first to avoid the spreading oils in the hand that will clog the only way salamanders breathe, through their skin.

“I like [Winter Pond] the best. We actually get to pick up animals and touch them…It’s much different than regular school…more fun too,” said Pricilla Baul of Golden Went Elementary in Manteca.

At the end of this hunt, students have found 5 slenders and 8 California newts.

Although the variables in each hunt are much too prominent to be considered scientifically viable (type and size of group), the 5 weeks of hunting have produced some interesting data.

In total, 119 salamanders were found; 66 slenders, 46 California newts, 7 ensantinas, and no Pacific giant salamanders. An average of 24 salamanders was found on each hunt - The record was 36.

Murphy, who has been at the school for two years, was surprised by the numbers.

“I’m surprised you found so few ensantinas. I can’t explain why we have seen so few of those this year…I’m a bit worried something is going wrong with the population.” She also added that the numbers for the other varieties of salamanders seems about right, including the Pacific giant salamander which “is pretty much an endangered species in this forest.” Although, it should be noted she did find one last year.

Although Squirrel’s new elective has been very successful, one goal still eludes him.

“I need to find a Pacific Giant Salamander. I’ve started to have dreams about it…it’s bordering on obsession now,” he lamented.

The San Joaquin Outdoor School will be in session, along with the salamander hunt, until May 23.

Wicker Park Place

“Bong, Bong. Doors closing.”

I heard these four sounds every 15 minutes for 7 months. It was the signal that my 10’ x 10’ apartment would rattle aggressively as Chicago’s elevated train roared by my window.

Although each night living in the low-income housing block of Wicker Park Place was an experience, a typical night probably went a little something like this:

I sit on my bed reading George Orwell’s The Road to Wigan Pier, and listening to my favorite band at the time, the Decemberists, when the power goes out.

This is hardly surprising: this happens at least every other day and I know what is coming next. Like clockwork, Marvin, a disabled Vietnam veteran with whom I shared a bathroom, comes over to accuse me of running too many appliances.

“Man, you running that microwave again? You know to shut all that other shit off first right?” said Marvin in his always aggressive tone.

After reassuring him it wasn’t my fault, we call the main office and get ready to wait until the next morning when the building supervisor would turn back on the power.

Not content sitting by candle-light again, I head down to our building’s common area to read. The room is filled with an impressive library of romance novels, old phonebooks, and features a revolving cast of characters: Claire, the old woman down the hall from me who insisted on calling me “Bill” and would enlist me as her personal handyman, George, another Vietnam vet who seemed to forget who I was every three weeks, and Steve, the African-American ex-boxer/religious fanatic who caught me on one of my bi-monthly trips to Church and thought of me as an ally for his war on secularism.

This particular night, Steve is arguing with a resident named Nathan who, as it turns out, was an atheist.

After a quick chat with Steve, I head back up to my dark abyss of a room. As I walk down the hall, I see the family of Mexican immigrants that somehow fit into the room across the hall from me.

The mother, father, son, and daughter always seem nervous. I think it is because they were worried I might report them for all living in the same room, but I don’t know for sure. I get a tense smile from the parents as both their children cling tightly to them. I still don’t know how any person could have the audacity to call them “illegal.”

A few months later, a representative from the Renaissance Companies (who managed Wicker Park Place) quietly slipped notes under our doors informing us they had received a federal grant to refurbish the building and we had two months to get out. Assistance would only be given to those that qualify.

Fear spread throughout the building. Some residents were given a place to live at other affordable living homes around Chicago, but others, like Steve, were told they were out of luck; He was told he had a “cockroach problem” and they didn’t want him taking it wherever he was relocated to.

The underbelly of the American dream was no longer something I just watched TV: It was real, and these people weren’t just bodies; they were real people, with names, families, stories to tell, and some of them were about to be thrown out on the street.

I grew up in the all-white Detroit suburb of St. Clair Shores, Michigan. I didn’t know any immigrants, the only veterans I met were grizzled old men from WWII, hardly ever met any African-Americans, and had to listen to the racist rants of people for years.

After suffering with an awful case of English mono, I learned what being American without health insurance meant: within three months of doctor’s visits I was nearly penniless. I scraped together enough money to get to Chicago and felt the pain of being dirt poor in an unforgiving urban jungle.

Stories about Wicker Park Place's renovation, like the one featured in The Chicago-Sun Times, focused on the historical significance of the building but didn't mention anything about the displacement of dozens of people.

I stopped by Wicker Park Place, nine months after I left, a few weeks before I left Chicago. Construction hadn't even started.

San Francisco: The First Few Hours

I arrived in Oakland, California on Oct. 6^th at 1:30 pm.

It is fair to say that the reality of the situation didn't hit me until I landed. I was chatting it up to an older rich woman on the plane from Columbus, reading my maps, and playfully daydreaming the whole flight. But, once I landed I began to feel that familiar desperation that grips me at the beginning of any move.

When I got my bags, I lugged my three huge bags (one of which was 53 lbs. and cost me $25) to the AirBart bus stop. This bus would eventually take me to the Bay Area's public transit rail, the BART.

The first thing that struck me was the temperature. I had been sweating my ass off the night before at the Arcade Fire concert in Columbus, Ohio but now it was a cool 60 something degrees. I also could see huge mountains in the distance - I know they were beautiful but the fear of getting to my destination seems to have blocked the memory of being able to describe them.

After fifteen minutes or so, the AirBart arrived and I paid the driver $3 and lugged my bags over to the middle of the bus. I eventually got a seat and spent the next ten minutes staring at my first sites of Californian neighborhoods.

When we eventually got to the Bart station, I bought myself a $5 ticket...I'm not sure if that was more than I needed, but I was so disorientated at this point I couldn't really tell you. I lugged my three bags up the escalator (thank god for that genius invention) and waited for the BART.

After ten minutes or so, the BART arrived and I lifted my 150 lbs. of personal possessions on to the train, sat down, and congratulated myself on a job well done.

After twenty nerve-racking minutes I got to Powell Street. From there, I was to walk five blocks to Leavenworth. And that’s where things got real difficult.

San Francisco has a lot of hills. I know that, alright. But, holy shit…

Caring that 150 lbs. through a city you have never been to, while steadily going UPHILL the whole time had to be the hardest part of the whole ordeal. Step by agonizing step, I walked by homeless people, tourists, and other vagabonds.

Mel, my very gracious host and friend, had warned me about homeless people asking me for cash and trying to follow me into her building. But, the funniest thing was that not only did no homeless people ask me for cash, some homeless worker dude tried offering me free food! Yep, I just gave off the air of unemployment I guess.

After what seemed like hours, I made it to Leavenworth Street…only to find I had to walk two more blocks up a hill so damn inverted that people were getting off their bikes just to walk up this damn thing.

After an insane physical workout, I got to Mel’s apartment building, pulled out the keys she had fedexed me a few days earlier, pulled those three monsters into her living room, laid down on the bed, and closed my eyes.

The Future of the Internet Has Arrived

My friends, the revolution has begun...

In all its stylistic simplicity, all its technological glory, all its mind-numbingly futuristic usability, I present to you what critics will surely call "the future of the Internet":

http://www.phillipmolnar.com/



...I'd like to thank the big guy upstairs, all my peeps in the 313, Augustine, Dirk, and Nathan for all your guidance, and most of all, the Internet - keep on rocking my friend.

Moving to California

Hello friends,

I have decided to move to San Francisco, California. I'm sorry if I haven't been shouting my move from the mountain tops, but I was worried about getting cold feet, so here I am, telling you that I am leaving in six days.

I hope you can excuse my tardiness. I've found when saying goodbye to friends nothing really has to be said, it's just the simple confirmation of what we already knew, that we are friends and care for each other. So, if you are out of town or busy this week, I already know how you feel, and thanks.

I've been debating this move for a while. I don't know when it happened for sure, but I decided that my time in Chicago had to end and it was time to move on to the next adventure. It's not that I dislike Chicago, honest, I just am ready to experience something new. I don't think I can expect to find any happiness out there that I don't have here, but it isn't about that, so I'm excited for everything – the good and the bad.

I still don't know what I want out of life but I'm enthusiastic about growing as a person, facing new and challenging situations, and figuring out why I'm on this planet and what I want to do about it.

If you are around this week, I will be meeting up with some friends on Friday night at 10 pm at the Friar Tuck on 3010 N Broadway St.

I know a lot of you will be at Critical Mass that night, and my ISO comrades have the Russian day school the next day, so don't worry if you can't make it. I'm sure I'll see again!

-Phil