While watching ‘The Rocketeer’ last night, I was struck by the grace and beauty (as well as the subtle humor) exhibited by Jennifer Connelly in the role of  ‘Jenny’.  While the movie wasn’t the most perfect retelling of Dave Stevens story (and I wish her name had stayed “Bettie”) you can clearly see why Cliff Secord would risk life and limb for such a woman.  Likewise, you can see why Bruce Banner would smash all obstacles for her, as well, which is my subtle Stephen-type segueway into reminding you that Ms. Connelly was also Betty Ross in the much-maligned 2003 ‘Hulk’ film.  In many ways, she was the diamond to be found in the pile of gum wrappers and detritus of that movie, making me fervently wish that we could somehow transplant her Betty Banner (and, if I’m honest, Mark Ruffalo’s Bruce) into the 2008 version, which in turn begs a query…

The MS-QOTD (pronounced, as always, “misquoted”) has always suspected that we would have enjoyed seeing Buddy Ebsen’s Tin Man in action, asking: If you could retroactively recast ONE actor/actress in any film, who would switch out and why?

The announcement of the casting of Wonder Woman in the ‘Man Of Steel’ sequel has many contingents of the intarwebz up in arms.  The most fascinating argument against the inclusion of the Amazing Amazon is the one that opines that the character is too famous to be just a “guest-star” in somebody else’s movie (even though we have zero information on her role in the film.)  My hope for the movie is that Diana and Bruce serve as counterpoints to Superman (like the cartoon angel/devil on Woody Woodpecker’s shoulders) telling us more about each character by contrasting him/her to the other two.  Still, the inclusion of 60% of the classic Super-Friends in the movie does beg an interesting query…

The MS-QOTD (pronounced, as always, “misquoted”) never fully understood why Batman got equal billing with the two most powerful people on the planet, asking: Would you like to see a single movie about all three of DC’s classic Trinity?

It’s been a couple of weeks since the epic 50th anniversary ‘Doctor Who’ story aired, and I’ve spent an awful lot of time mulling it over in my head, as well as interacting with my fellow nerds to see if others enjoyed it as much as I did.  The return to greatness after an inconsistent season made me happy, and gives me hope that the new era of ‘Who’ could be a real winner.  With that milestone out of the way, though, my nerdly high hopes turn towards J.J. Abrams upcoming ‘Star Wars Episode VII’ (which I hope has a better title than that, ’cause even The Phantom Menace is superior to just a Roman numeral).  Of course, since we’re all friends here (even Rob), perhaps this shift in anticipation also begs a query…

The MS-QOTD (pronounced, as always, “misquoted”) occasionally likes to cut through the subtext and ask the question we’re all quietly thinking, asking: Time-Lord or Jedi?

No matter how successful the newest iteration of Star Trek is, there will always be a part of me that compares them to the original Trek crew.  Certainly there are talented actors on Abrams’ V.2 Trek project, able to make the characters their own, but there may never be an ensemble that affects me the way the 1966 cast could.  Of course, it should be noted that I am a sucker for a good “team”, whether it be Ted Mosby and his pals or the cruelly and criminally underrated Justice League Detroit squad of my youth, and breaking down the archetypes and roles of those teams is how I fill many an idle hour.  (For the record, for all the static I’ve given Rodrigo during sessions of Critical Hit, the idea of party roles is one that has grown on me, especially when you figure that Torq and Montgomery Scott fill a similar slot in their respective groups.)  This, in turn, begs a query…

The MS-QOTD (pronounced, as always, “misquoted”) admits that Captain Reynolds and his ragtag crew are incredibly compelling as well, asking: What is the most perfectly balanced ensemble cast in all of pop culture?

There are those who complain that zombie-flavored stories are too prevalent, as if the use of the shuffling dead were in itself a genre, rather than props used to evoke a particular mood.  For my part, I enjoyed the early installments of ‘Marvel Zombies’, especially the bits where undead Peter Parker laments having killed and eaten his family in the same tone he used to whine about working for J. Jonah Jameson, and have often thought that it would be interesting other hero-types in similar settings.  How might Indiana Jones face a wave of revenants?  Or George Costanza?  Would Jack Skellington have an edge against a horde clamoring to eat flesh, or would become their leader and sic them on Wallace and Gromit?

The MS-QOTD (pronounced, as always, “misquoted”) believes that Talking Heads had a great point when they said, “Stop Making Sense”, asking: What fictional character (who doesn’t already live in a zombie story) would survive longest after the zombie apocalypse?

As a fan of comic book history, it’s interesting to look at the various “boom” periods, and the characters and concepts spawned from those expansion points.  The original Golden Age post-Batman explosion featured any number of loony concepts for books, from Madame Fatal (cross-dressing two-fisted mystery “woman”) to The Clown (who was a clown.)  In the 90s, we discovered that all you needed to be a superhero was a pair of shoulder-pads and a noun that sounded badass.  My favorite epic expansion, though, came circa 1966, where the success of the Batman television show led to the creation of dozens of heroes of various repute, from Space Ghost all the way to Tod Holton, Super Green Beret.  Interestingly, the last few years of comic book madness have led to a situation very similar to those swingin’ days of yore, with superheroes invading TV screens, movies and even the mainstream pop culture in ways that we haven’t seen since Adam West, which begs today’s query…

The MS-QOTD (pronounced, as always, “misquoted”) thinks this one will seem equally obvious to proponents of either side, asking: Are we actually in a new renaissance period of comics, or is it just the proverbial dead-cat bounce?