Captain Marvel is a superhero roughly as powerful as Superman, minus the heat-vision and cold breath. What’s unique about the character is that in ordinary life, he’s teenager Billy Batson. Speaking the name of the wizard who gave him his powers (Shazam) calls down a magic thunderbolt, transforming him into the studly superhero. But he’s still a teenager in there.

If this to you sounds, “Like Big, but with superpowers,” then congratulations! You now understand Hollywood.

So that you may further understand Hollywood, let me briefly fill you in on what’s happened in the meantime.

I wrote a draft for New Line. Around the time I turned it in, there was a lot of speculation about whether New Line would continue to remain in business, but there was enough enthusiasm that the mini-studio ran the numbers and considered going into production before a potential actors’ strike. (The WGA strike hadn’t yet happened, but it looked inevitable.) Director Pete Segal was busy on Get Smart, costarring Dwayne Johnson, and rumors began building that The Rock would play Black Adam. A lot of people liked that idea, me included.

I would describe this draft as a comedy with a lot of action. It mostly centers on Billy Batson getting and learning how to use his powers, and discovering what happened to his parents that left him an orphan. One of the appeals of the project is that Billy is a comic book hero who actually reads comic books. Black Adam ultimately becomes the adversary, but he works much like Voldemort in the Harry Potter movies — a dark force to battle at the end, not a constant presence throughout. I wrote the draft I had pitched, and was very happy with how it turned out.

I got notes from New Line and the producers — mostly about set pieces, and keeping Black Adam from becoming too sympathetic — but before I could get started, the WGA went on strike. I couldn’t write, nor did I talk to anyone involved for 100 days.

When the strike was over, Shazam! was suddenly a Warner Bros. movie.¹ The new executive at Warners said he agreed with the New Line notes, and told the producers I should go ahead with my rewrite. We weren’t on the official production schedule, but there were discussions about budgets and timelines. We were definitely Pete Segal’s next movie, and many of the stories coming out of the press junkets for Get Smart were about Shazam.

When we turned the new draft in to the studio, we got a reaction that made me wonder if anyone at Warners had actually read previous drafts or the associated notes. The studio felt the movie played too young. They wanted edgier. They wanted Billy to be older. They wanted Black Adam to appear much earlier.

(I pointed out that Black Adam appears on page one, but never got a response.)

I expressed my frustration that I’d wasted months of my time and a considerable amount of the studio’s money on things that should have been discussed at the outset. I asked for a meeting with the executive in charge. He and I had one phone call, then I got a new set of notes that didn’t gibe with what we had discussed. (The written studio notes, I will say, were well-considered. I disagreed with the direction they were taking the movie, but they were thorough and self-consistent.)

In retrospect, I can point to two summer Warner Bros. movies that I believe defined the real issue at hand: Speed Racer and The Dark Knight. The first flopped; the second triumphed. Given only those two examples, one can understand why a studio might wish for their movies to be more like the latter. But to do so ignores the success of Iron Man, which spent most of its running time as a comedic origin story, and the even more pertinent example of WB’s own Harry Potter series. I tried to make this case, to no avail.

I was under contract to deliver one more draft. So I took them at their (written) word and delivered what they said they wanted: a much harder movie, with a lot more Black Adam. This wasn’t “Big, with super powers” anymore. It was Black Adam versus Captain Marvel, with a considerable push into dark territory and liminal badlands like Nanda Parbat. It wasn’t the action-comedy I’d signed on to write, but it was a movie I could envision getting made. The producer and director liked it, and turned it in to the studio while I was in France.

By the time I got back, the project was dead.

By “dead,” I mean that it won’t be happening. I don’t think it’s on the studio’s radar at all. It may come back in another incarnation, with another writer, but I can say with considerable certainty that it won’t be the version I developed.²

Yes, that sucks. And obviously, I can only share my interpretation of what transpired. There were dozens of meetings and phone calls in which I had no participation. As a reader, you should certainly consider the possibility that I wrote shitty scripts they simply didn’t want to make. Because Warners controls copyright on them, I can’t put them in the Library for you to read yourself. So you have to decide whether to take my word on it.

The larger point of this retelling is to help readers understand that at every level in a screenwriter’s career, there are projects that simply don’t happen, mostly for reasons you couldn’t anticipate at the outset. I’ve had good experiences at Warner Bros. (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Corpse Bride) and bad experiences (Tarzan, Barbarella). My next movie is at that studio, so while I’m frustrated by the way they handled this project, I have no axe to grind. When they have a movie they want and support, they’re top-notch.

I got paid well to write Shazam, and I get to keep that money. The real cost is an opportunity cost — the other projects I could have written that might be in production now. More than anything, that’s one of the reasons production rewrites are so appealing to established writers: you know those movies are going to get made.

Also softening the blow is that I’m already writing a new project, one I might have had to pass up if Shazam had dragged on any further. The first half of 2009 is going to be very busy. So while I’ll miss Shazam, and the movie it could have been, I won’t feel too bad if this is the last post I ever write about it.

1. Warners has a relationship with DC Comics that goes beyond the corporate kinship with New Line, so they apparently could have gotten involved even if New Line had remained separate.
2. Keep in mind that press releases often have little relationship to reality. The same week I found out that Shazam! was dead, Variety and several online news outlets ran stories about Pete Segal’s new overall deal with Warners, which highlighted Shazam! as his next project. I got several “Congratulations!” emails.

There’s actual news, including my next writing project and an update (post-mortem?) on Shazam!. Plus, I really want to write something about this misguided memo from Thomas Kinkade reprinted in Vanity Fair. It’s a good cautionary tale.

(Update: Fixed spelling of Kinkade’s name. Thanks Matt Redd.)

Remarkably, it was the first conversation I’d had about the strike in over a week. After three months of talking (and blogging) about nothing other than the AMPTP, the NegComm and picketing schedules, it’s surprising how completely the strike has vanished off the radar.

With the official contract ratification results due today, it feels like a good time to take stock of where various projects have ended up in a post-strike universe.

The web series

We’re finishing editing on the web pilot I shot at the start of the month. Once it’s done, the financiers will go off and look for distribution and advertising partners. If we can find the right combination, we’ll aim to shoot a block of episodes this summer.

Shazam!

I spent the weekend barricaded at the Disney Grand Californian working on the next draft of Shazam! I’d gotten the studio and producer notes just before the strike, so this was my first chance to address them. It was great having a three-month break from the script, because it meant I could look at it with fresh eyes.

There are some web reports out of WonderCon about a possible title change to something longer and more Harry Potter-ish. Nothing’s decided yet. Obviously, one of the challenges with the property is that an audience will automatically assume that the hero’s name is Shazam, when it’s not.¹

Dreamworks project

When the strike began, I was halfway through the first draft of an unannounced project for Dreamworks, with a major star and director involved. Without being too specific, Something Happened unrelated to the strike which made it very unlikely that our movie could (or should) get made. So one of the first conversations I had after the strike was with the producer and director to figure out whether or not to proceed. After about 15 phone calls, many involving agents and executives, the decision was made to kill the project.

It was the right choice. While it’s hard to walk away from 55 pages, finishing the next 55 while almost certain that they could never be filmed would be even more dispiriting. As I write this, it’s not clear whether I’ll segue into a different project for the studio, or just write them a check for the money they’ve already paid me. Either way, I feel better getting to work on a script that is much likelier to become a movie.

Heroes: Origins

My hunch is that this spin-off series will stay in the deep-freeze for a while, maybe never to be thawed out. Tim Kring has said in interviews that the priority is getting next season’s plotline (“Villains”) ready for launch, as it should be. If Origins is resurrected at some point, I’d be happy to direct my episode.

1. Shazam is the wizard who bestows his powers; the guy in the cape is Captain Marvel. For legal reasons, the movie can’t be called Captain Marvel.

If I were writing a dissertation on the evolution of the Captain Marvel character, [hardcover anthologies] would be invaluable. But I’m not. So every time I read one of these, I’m struck with the same realization I encounter trying to watch The Honeymooners or a black-and-white movie: Wow. Old things suck.

Was I deliberately exaggerating to make a point? Yes.

Was I baiting readers to write in? Sure.

Was I serious? Sort of.

There’s obviously an abundance of old things which not only do not suck, but are in fact spectacular: great works of literature, music, art, and movies which deserve to be called classics — and not just because they’re in black and white. We study them, we emulate them, because they are just so damn good.¹

That said, for every great old masterpiece, there are a lot of non-masterpieces. And what frustrates me is when society insists on elevating and fawning over these non-masterpieces simply because they were part of some mythical Golden Age. To me, that includes The Honeymooners. Sorry. I can understand why it was groundbreaking, and the enormous challenge of creating a live show, and why it was seminal. But I don’t care. It doesn’t connect for me whatsoever, and I’m too honest to fake any interest in it.

Thus, to me, it sucks. Everyone is free to have his own opinion, at least until the corporate sponsors find out.²

I could have softened the blow by saying, “Many old things suck” or “Some old things suck.” But that wouldn’t be true to my experience. When I watch a classic film and have that holy shit, this is just as good as everyone says experience, that’s the glorious exception. That’s when I’m happy I’ve deliberately set my expectation meter low for anything older than I am.

Setting aside the implicit ontological paradoxes, most people I know would be curious to travel back in time. They’d love to meet historical figures, marvel at extinct animals, and experience daily life in an earlier age. But I’ve yet to meet someone who wants to travel back in time to watch TV. Imagine, you could watch The Honeymooners in its proper context, live, as it was made. Wouldn’t that be the best thing ever? No?

Of course it wouldn’t, because you live in 2007. The world has changed a lot since the days of Ralph Kramden threatening domestic violence against his wife, and you can’t pretend it hasn’t.³

And yet, time travel is exactly what some fans want out of an adaptation — to create a movie as it would have existed in an earlier era. To me, that’s foolish. You can watch The Honeymooners on DVD, safe in its nostalgic bubble, but to slavishly recreate the experience is cultural masturbation.

And yes, I said “masturbation” just to bait comments.

1. And yet, when we emulate them too closely, the results are invariably disappointing. That’s a good topic for someone’s dissertation, so I won’t try to address it in a footnote.
2. Read the fine print on the parking garage stub. It’s a contract.
3. Yes, I know he was kidding. There’s a fascinating apologia on the topic, but you wouldn’t see Kevin James getting away with it today.

But when I tell people face-to-face that I’m writing a Captain Marvel movie, I often notice a specific micro-reaction. Their eyes go up and to the left as they try to remember, who the hell is Captain Marvel? Half the time, they come up with Captain America instead.

So, in the interest of spreading general knowledge about Captain Marvel and why he kicks ass, I thought I’d share a reading list. Don’t worry; there’s no test. In fact, consider this a gentle education (or re-education) on why some of the best writing today is inked and colored.

Getting over comic anxiety

One reason adults can be scared off from comics is that the universes in which superheroes live tend to be incredibly complicated and interconnected. It’s the same reason I haven’t started watching Battlestar Galactica — I feel like I need to catch the first few seasons on DVD.

But it’s even more bewildering than that. You can think of any comic book series (Batman, Superman, JSA) as being roughly equivalent to a television series, with each issue serving much like an episode.¹ By this analogy, DC and Marvel Comics are like television networks — the difference being that all their shows cross-over constantly. Imagine if in order to follow Lost, you also had to keep up to speed with Grey’s Anatomy, Ugly Betty and According to Jim.

You’d want a guidebook. A cheat sheet.

For the DC Universe in which Captain Marvel lives, the most helpful resource I’ve found is the DC Comics Encyclopedia.² It includes artwork and bios on pretty much every significant player (hero and villain) in the DC universe.³ Naturally, one consequence of the book’s breadth is its lack of depth. A few paragraphs can’t explain why a given character is important or relevant, and tends to overemphasize vintage characters who will never play a significant role in future storylines. (Old West gunslingers, I’m looking at you.)

Still, it’s invaluable. I’ve been paging through this book for the last two years,⁴ constantly discovering new connections and relationships. The term “mythology” is overused in popular culture, but it really applies to superheroes. They’re our Greek gods and demigods, and their stories are just as tangled, fascinating and unlikely.⁵

Getting up to speed on Captain Marvel

Captain Marvel was originally published by Fawcett Comics, and for a time outsold Superman — in fact, it was a copyright infringement lawsuit that led to Fawcett ceasing publication.⁶ DC Comics bought out the rights to the character in 1991, but for legal reasons can’t promote the comic book using the Captain Marvel name. From the [Wikipedia entry](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_Marvel_(DC_Comics):

Because Marvel Comics trademarked their Captain Marvel comic book during the interim between the original Captain Marvel’s Fawcett years and DC years, DC Comics is unable to promote and market their Captain Marvel/Marvel Family properties under that name. Since 1972, DC has instead used the trademark Shazam! as the title of their comic books and thus the name under which they market and promote the character. Consequently, Captain Marvel himself is sometimes erroneously referred to as “Shazam.”

A fairly classic genesis story for Captain Marvel can be found in Jerry Ordway’s The Power of Shazam! It’s semi-period and kind of Mummy-like (a lot of Egyptian tomb business), but manages to evoke a vintage feel without the vintage dullness.

While he rarely has his own series, you find Captain Marvel sprinkled throughout the DC world. He’s particularly helpful when you need someone to go head-to-head with Superman. Captain Marvel isn’t vulnerable to kryptonite, and holds up better than the Man of Steel against magic.

A good place to start is Judd Winick’s First Thunder, which posits the first real encounter between these titans, and nicely contrasts not only the two heroes but their corresponding villains, Lex Luthor and Dr. Sivana. The book smartly moves beyond the smash-and-bash action to raise interesting questions: Is it fair to put this much responsibility on a young kid? Which identity is your “secret identity?” And what would Superman have done without the Kents to watch over him?

Day of Vengeance (also by Judd Winick) features a very different Marvel/Superman matchup, as the Man of Steel finds himself possessed by the demon Eclipso. It’s a good battle, and it makes use of one of the Marvel family’s less-defined abilities: the magic thunderbolts which come when you call, “Shazam!” These thunderbolts can seemingly do anything. I keep waiting for some unhinged environmentalist to figure out he can use them to power the world’s electric grid — but at a deadly price!

If you want bleak, look no further than Mark Wald’s Kingdom Come, in which the grown up Billy Batson is basically Lex Luthor’s pawn, a superpowered goon to protect the evil mastermind from Superman. Between this and Watchmen, one is left with the impression that superheroes don’t get better with age.

JSA and Black Adam

Captain Marvel can be found in many Justice Society of America books, but an even larger presence is Black Adam, who is sometimes an ally and often an adversary. Black Adam was the original champion chosen by the wizard Shazam, and is ostensibly as powerful as The Big Red Cheese. But he’s brutal and charismatic, which is why fans love him no matter which side he’s on.

Geoff Johns, who was gracious enough to listen to my pitch before we went in to New Line, has two books featuring Black Adam to check out: Black Reign and Black Vengeance. The storylines continue into this past year’s 52.

For a one-off making good use of the Rock of Eternity (home base of Captain Marvel), check out Virtue and Vice. Featuring both the JSA and the Justice League, it’s a sampler platter of powers and what-if scenarios, but well worth a look.

Among current series, Judd Winick’s Trials of Shazam! finds Billy Batson taking over for the wizard, and overseeing the training of his replacement. Meanwhile, Jeff Smith’s Shazam!: The Monster Society of Evil is goofy and whimsical, a great alternative to the weary darkness of many comics today.

Why I’m not including the vintage collections

DC publishes hardcover anthologies that gather up decades’ worth of Captain Marvel comics. If I were writing a dissertation on the evolution of the Captain Marvel character, these would be invaluable. But I’m not. So every time I read one of these, I’m struck with the same realization I encounter trying to watch The Honeymooners or a black-and-white movie: Wow. Old things suck.

Yes, I know that will piss off the vintage comics fans, who insist that the original incarnations are the purest forms of a character. But what you quickly realize is that old-time comic books were awkwardly written, crudely drawn, and bewilderingly inconsistent with their rules. They were making up the art form as they went along, and today’s comic books are better for the accumulated wisdom.

Vintage fans are free to disagree. There’s a vast but finite amount of comic books to last them through their days.⁷

Beyond that, are there great books I’m leaving off, either intentionally or accidentally? Almost certainly. The comments are your chance to add to the reading list.

1. Indeed, Joss Whedon is doing exactly that with his Buffy: Season 8.
2. There’s a similar [Marvel Encyclopedia](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0756623588?ie=UTF8&tag=johnaugustcom-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0756623588) available as well. I just ordered it today, so I can’t vouch for it.
3. Arguably, multiverse, but I don’t want to dip my toes into that debate. Suffice to say that Captain Marvel and his compatriots used to exist on an alternate Earth (one that didn’t have Superman et al.), but got folded in due to a massive cosmic event.
4. True confession: It’s my bathroom reader.
5. Off topic, but what is the proper name for the religion that worships the classic Greek (or Roman) gods? Pan-Hellenism? That’s a church I’d like to visit.
6. The lawsuit seems absurd today, because the two overlapping powers — strength and flight — are pretty much ubiquitous among today’s superheroes.
7. My brother is big into classic rock. I once pointed out to him that everything he will ever like has already been recorded. Which seems depressing, but will undoubtedly happen to most of us.

Sigh.

It’s frustrating how in the digital age, random speculation turns to fact in about .003 seconds. And once it starts, it’s like a tire fire: any attempt to extinguish it merely creates a lot more smoke.

Since it’s impossible to put the conflagration out, we can at least try to figure out how this case of celebrity arson began. My hunch is that it was a combination of factors:

1. The announcement that I got hired to write the movie.
2. The Captain Marvel illustrations that ran with the story, leading to questions of, “Who does that look like?”
3. Gyllenhaal’s recent visibility in Zodiac.
4. Jake’s sister Maggie being hired for the new Batman.
5. Recent trailers and leaked photos from Spider-Man 3, re-igniting…
6. …the old rumor that Jake Gyllenhaal was replacing Tobey Maguire.

Amplifying all of these factors is what I call the Sticky Celebrity Constant: associating a recognizable star with a concept makes it exponentially more interesting. For example…

Re-hab. Depressing.
Britney Spears in rehab. Fascinatingly depressing, like a clown with cancer.

Adoption. Laudable but dull.
Angelina Jolie adopting again. Worth at least five minutes on The View.

Established screenwriter hired to adapt obscure comic-book character. Yawn.
Jake Gyllenhaal considering playing obscure comic-book character. Hooray!

But the thing is, he’s not considering. I can pretty much assure you he’s never heard of the project. And we’ve never discussed him. We’ve never seriously discussed anyone.

After several months of meetings, casting has come up exactly zero times. There’s no casting list. If there were a list, Gyllenhaal’s name would probably be on it, but trust me: there is no list. There’s no start date, no release date, no movie whatsoever. There’s just a script to be written. Which I should probably get back to.

But if you happen to bump into the internet, please tell him what I said.