There's an aesthetic in film known as "so bad it's good," and what that really means is that you've found something to make fun of. This was the central tenet of the show "Mystery Science Theater 3000" and I'll state right here that I never could stand that mentality — especially when the typical Vince Vaughn movie is far more bereft of originality than any given Ed Wood venture, not to mention sincerity.

 

Sincerity really is the key there. When it comes to bad, incompetent films, there are certainly ones that might be worthy of ridicule, but when you make that a sweeping response to creative efforts that may fall short of what is considered professional, you miss out on some revealing honesty that can, at times, be far more mesmerizing than slick entertainment.

 

For a filmmaker like Ed Wood — and his equals in other mediums — the work is born of a personal sincerity and the strange talent of being able to conceive of complicated, singular ideas without the means with which to express them. Guys like him try damn hard and come up with something perhaps not technically

Advertisement

good, but by no means standard. That's not something to laugh at, that's something to be fascinated by. That's psychology.

 

Comic books have found their Ed Wood, a gentleman by the name of Fletcher Hanks who plied his trade for some time in American comic books around World War 2 and then disappeared from the annals of history. Not only did the creator drop off the face of the earth — his comic stories almost didn't make it, either. Compiler Paul Karasik has provided the world with a treasury of outsider comics that are so original, so bizarre, so from their own place, that I don't think I have ever read anything quite like them — or more fascinating.

 

The best way to get the work across is to just go through one of the plots, point by point. Stardust is "the Super Wizard," a man who has "vast knowledge of interplanetary science" that has "made him the most remarkable man that ever lived." Stardust uses these amazing powers for "crime-busting." This means he sits on his faraway planet watching crooks and goons plot bank robberies on his "simplified television unit" (we call the iPods). Stardust utilizes his "tubular special" to go to earth and stop the evil doers.

 

In one story, Stardust goes head to head against a "gigantic fifth column" that is "preparing for the total destruction of the American government." The leader resembles Dick Cheney and says things like "We must end democracy and civilization forever." Actually, that's a lot like the real Dick Cheney, isn't it? This guy's name is Yew Bee, though, whatever that means. Yew Bee's gang gets "traitor officers" to take over military craft on the coast, as well as airplanes and other weaponry, while they hide in their "secret bomb-proof room." Their forces head to New York City and Yew Bee gloats that the planes are "especially built to ruin New York."

 

Stardust, however, causes Yew Bee's weaponry to attack each other and crash land. He then turns into a giant flaming star that transforms a bunch of the gangsters into icicles that melt away — others are turned into "monster rats" that are chased into the river by a panther that Stardust conjures out of the star. Yew Bee, however, is saved — Stardust makes sure that while he retains his head, Yew Bee has a rat's body. He takes Yew Bee to the F.B.I., who hunts down other criminals. Stardust then warns the country with a message of "luminous dust" over the skies of New York City: "America beware of the Fifth Column."

 

This story is typical of Hanks' concern that spies are going to take over America — Stardust adventures are filled with gangsters, terrorists, and spies who plan to not only take down the country, but civilization itself, and they will do so utilizing an array of villainous weapons; typhoid germs, poison gas, "hot-x fusing liquid," an atom smasher, "new shredding guns," time bombs and even an "anti-solar ray" which will "destroy the power of Earth's gravity" and send everyone flying into space, except for the crafty criminals who have chained themselves down.

 

Hanks reveals himself as a strict - and somewhat warped — disciplinarian. In one adventure featuring Fantomah, Mystery Woman of the Jungle, the villain is "ensnared" by jungle grass and devoured by a giant spider. In another, Fantomah transforms the bad guy — who, admittedly, had planned to "wreck civilization," proclaiming it a failure and demanding society "return to primitive living" — into a caveman beset by bloodthirsty panthers.

 

Throughout the book, Hanks plays out his paranoid psychological issues through a series of facile superhero adventures, realized through clunky, surreal comic book depictions. Fellini has nothing on Hanks.

 

What makes this volume extra special is the concluding story, in which editor Paul Karasik crafts a short comic story about his search for Hanks — and for his meeting with Hanks' son. Within this tale is only a glimpse at the mind that created these bizarre fantasies — what answers that revealed lead to only more mysteries that will remain forever unsolved.

 

In reviewer's parlance, I am totally prepared to name this the book of the year. There is nothing quite like it and few things with as much depth hidden in such shallow territory. This is why I don't often feel like making fun of inept but sincere creations — just because someone isn't particularly good at the method of expression they work in, it doesn't mean that what they are saying isn't fascinating. Hanks is fascinating — and horrible and stupid and pathetic and magnetic and honest— and his work should not be passed by.