The Defibulators, Debt'll Get 'Em

The Defibulators, DEBT’LL GET ‘EM (PigCow Records)
Watching this band’s maturation over the years has been terrifically exciting, as Bug, Erin, Roadblock and the boys have stomped out their wildly addictive, completely distinctive musical aspic. The Defibs’ new LP is a retro-modern country masterpiece (really!), with not a single clunker in its beautifully succinct 35 minutes.

(NOTE: The Defibulators' debut EP was the second thing ever reviewed on this blog when it started in 2007. This post marks the 500th review on 50 Words or Less...)

Man of Steel Novelization

MAN OF STEEL Novelization by Greg Cox (Titan Books)
I haven’t read a film novelization since 1981, and did so here only in the hopes of divining some semblance of empathy towards the victims of the wanton destruction wrought by the Kryptonian battles. It’s there, but the mitigation still feels a bit too slight and way too dark.

Batman '66 #1

BATMAN ’66 #1 by Jeff Parker & Jonathan Case (DC Comics)
With the rights finally cleared, the floodgates of POW!-era Batman merch have opened, and this workmanlike attempt at emulating the feel of a Silver Age comic book as well as the iconic TV show ultimately feels like it was produced for no reason other than they finally could. Wholly unnecessary!

Drunk History

I keep waiting for the concept to wear thin, but the caliber of lip synching actors and ridiculously high production values keep these location-themed, booze-fueled vignettes feeling fresh, surprisingly insightful, and most of all downright hilarious. Derek Waters is the perfect travel guide / enabler. Just don’t let him drive.

Rocketeer Adventures Treasury Edition

A plethora of A-list cartoonists (Kaluta! Cooke! Plunkett! Darrow!) pay tribute to Dave Stevens’ retro hero (and Betty) in this oversized anthology that’s mixes adventure, drama, melancholy, whimsy, and a bit of required cheesecake. A few tales feel somewhat rote, but don’t really detract from the book’s heartfelt allure.


A dystopian exercise in video game violence and 3D excess, this reboot of a franchise I never much liked in the first place manages the seemingly impossible feat of exorcising any semblance of charm from Karl Urban as the titular arbiter of justice. DREDD is worse than ugly; it’s pointless.

(NOTE: I confess this review is based only on the first 57 minutes of the film. I stopped watching after that point. Because I hated it that much.)