Raiders of a Lost Art

I remember devouring Marvel Comics' Return of the Jedi movie adaptation for months after I saw the movie. The movie came out in May, and back then, it took a loooooooong time for a flick to come to video rental, let alone purchase. So, what was a kid to do? Well, play with the toys and read the comic book adaptation of course!

The 4 issue mini series was beautifully illustrated by classic Star Wars artist, Al Williamson. It covered all the movie's beats and it looked damn nifty to boot. It was an action-packed emotional rollercoaster echo of the film. I read that series until all the damn staples fell out!

“The Official Movie Adaptation” was a phrase that graced numerous comic books in the 80s and the 90s. Whether it was DC Comics' adaptation of Tim Burton's Batman (which is still my favorite Jerry Ordway comic), Marvel Comics' haunting Dune Super Special or Topps Comic's vision of Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula (filtered through the Mike Mignola), the comic industry released some top notch renditions of their celluloid counterparts.

Comics also have a history of continuing popular franchises. Hellboy publisher Dark Horse Comics made its mark with a series of fantastic Aliens continuations and Marvel continued franchises like Star Trek, Robocop, Doctor Who, Indiana Jones...the list goes on and on. I gotta say, the four colored funnies treated the movie biz a lot better than the celluloid moguls treated them. Hollywood churned out such piss poor adaptations like Captain America, Spider-Man & The Deadly Dust and Superman IV: The Quest For Peace. Dark stuff, my friends, dark stuff.

Somewhere along the way, my interest in “Official Movie Adaptations” waned. Maybe it was my burgeoning interest on video games, my growing (at a snail's pace) social awareness, or my discovery of the fairer sex, but somehow the art form was lost on me. Every once in a while, I'll take a look at stuff like Dark Horse's Indiana Jones and The Crystal Skull or the Superman Returns Prequels, but to no avail, it's as if there's a disconnect...somehow the doors to that particular pleasure have been closed for good. It's as if I've lost my taste for it, and that's a little bit sad.