When I wrote the script for Rocky, I wanted passion music. I wanted a symphony of powerful men...
Here's a reference photo I took a few years ago for the artists working on both Punisher: Six Hours to Kill and Werewolf By Night: In the Blood. I needed a Philly-area torture complex for the Punisher, and I also needed a place where Jack Russell could keep his giant werewolf-proof panic room. Feeling a little whimsical, I decided to use the same building -- the William Cramp & Sons Ship and Engine Building Company, down by the mighty Delaware River -- for both. Just imagine: Frank and Jack, crossing paths under a moonlit Philly night! (Below: Michel Lacombe's original art, showing the Punisher leaving the building.)
Check out Matthew Styer's "Rephotographing Philadelphia," where he takes vintage city images from PhillyHistory.org, then photographs the same location in the present. Amazing stuff.
I've been reading William H. Patterson Jr.'s bio of SF legend Robert A. Heinlein and came across an interesting passage about my hometown. Seems Heinlein worked at the Philadelphia Navy Yard for a few years, but really disliked his commute:There was subway service in Philadelphia, but it did not go all the way to the Navy Yard. You had to take a shuttle bus from the subway. "Robert told me," Virginia Heinlein recalled, "that [the Philadelphia City Fathers] had stolen the money for the subway continuation down to the Navy Yard." Philadelphia's municipal politics had never seriously been challenged by reformers, operating instead by good, old-fashioned graft. In the meantime, commuters carpooled to the Navy Yard from the suburbs.(Photo courtesy PhillyHistory.org.)
"I mean, if someone nuked Philadelphia, I could have made a great zombie move [about it], but that didn't happen, so I was like, what the f**k do I do?"
"Hymie the Riveter was a Philadelphia racketeer who had moved north to the big city, carrying a Thompson submachine gun wrapped in blue-checkered oil cloth, after a disagreement with his partners. New York wasn't so good a field as Philadelphia for machine gun work. The Thompson lay idle for a year or so while Hymie made expenses with an automatic, preying on small-time crap games in Harlem."
I've long known that noir legend David Goodis was born in Philly's Logan neighborhood. But until Lou Boxer and Aaron Finestone sent me the above photo, I never knew it was that part of Logan. And by "that part" I mean the notorious sinking homes of Logan. Seems that 80-plus years ago, some developer decided it would be okay to build a neighborhood on top of old creekbeds filled in with ash and garbage. Nice homes, mind you. Stately brick townhouses with green lawns. But over the years, the foundations began to collapse. Walls cracked. Gas pipes leaked. By the turn of this century, over 900 homes had been razed. And today, Logan is left with a 17-block preview of what the apocalypse will look like.
We spent the afternoon at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. If you've ever seen Rocky, you know the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Rocky runs up the front steps, then jumps around and pumps his fists into the air, all proud of himself. Gonna Fly Now, indeed.
"Pulitzer-nominated Inquirer crime reporter George Anastasia puts the total number of currently active mobsters at just 20 guys. To put that in perspective, the Blind Bowlers Association of Delaware numbers 24."
Just in one of those backward-gazing moods, I guess.
There's a particularly violent five-page preview of this week's Punisher MAX: Frank Castle #69 at the CBR.com website. Sharp-eyed Philadelphians will note the use of the iconic PNB building in the right panel above. There's also a sequence set in one of my favorite Philly bars in this one. Too bad that Frank completely des-... well, you'll see. Hope you'll check it out this Wednesday.
I meant to link to Steven Wells' Philadelphia Weekly piece on The Punisher coming to Philly a few days ago (um, when it appeared), but deadlines and a nasty case of Fanboy Flu have been dogging me all week. Anyway, it's a very fun piece, even if it does make me sound a bit like an over-sized lunatic. (Who feeds his kids breakfast every morning.) I've never been described as almost as pretty as a horse before... thanks, Mr. Wells!
Today I spent some time looking through some microfilm copies of the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin from 1959. Back then, the Bulletin was Philly's top newspaper, and I figured that flipping through a few issues would give me a feel for the city at that time. Boy did it. Here are some of the headlines from a single week's worth of stories:
Holy last minute, Batman. Totally forgot to mentioned that I'm going to be signing copies of Batman: Murder at Wayne Manor tomorrow at the Philadelphia Book Festival. (It's kind of a surprise to me, too; only found about this last week.) I'll be at the Quirk Books booth at high noon, and hanging for about an hour. Here's the interesting thing: Murder isn't officially out until mid-July, so this is pretty much the only place you'll be able to score a copy until then. I'll probably also load my trademark green backpack (going strong since 1997) with a bunch of Severance Packages, which also isn't officially available yet. If you dig getting books before their time, stop on by the Central Branch of the Free Library. The booth is #8, on 19th Street, smack dab between Wood and Vine. (If you get lost, look for Poe Boy's distinctive beard and professorial garb. He'll be nearby.)
Screenwriters aren't just walking the picket lines in L.A. and New York. They're here in Philly, too. So City Paper sent star intern Aly Semigran out to the King of Prussia Mall to hang with WGA scribes Joe Cohen (Minority Report), Joe Gangemi (Wind Chill) and Mark Rosenthal (Eragon) as they passed out leaflets to unsuspecting suburban moviegoers. You can read Aly's report (and check out her on-the-scene photos) right here.
Want a sneak preview of the Moon Knight Annual issue I wrote? Click on over to Comic Box to check out six pages of stunning artwork by Jefte Paolo. The pages are sans captions and dialogue, so don't worry about spoilers. (Or my writing ruining the thing.)
(Here's my editor's letter from tomorrow's City Paper. Simulcast at www.citypaper.net.)Bouquets of tulips and lilies wrapped in thin sheets of paper, or in clear plastic. And stuffed animals — brown teddy bears, pink apes. An American flag, draped over some of the flowers.
You don't often see a makeshift memorial at an ATM machine.
•••
Earlier, Tuesday. The Daily News reports that the guy who reportedly confessed to the crimes has robbed banks before. He served seven years for a string of heists in the early '90s.
Now he has three kids, all under the age of 4. Works hard, according to his neighbors. They don't understand it. Quiet, but he didn't seem the type. They never seem the type.
On a window of his apartment in the Far Northeast, there's a sticker warning people that the premises are protected by Brinks Home Security.
•••
Saturday afternoon, Oct. 6. My wife withdraws some money from the ATM built into the exterior of the bank, just across the driveway from where it happened. She wasn't sure she'd come back here, but it is the closest branch of our bank, and it seems silly to drive farther.
Mid-transaction, some teenage kids walk up, looking behind her. "That where it happened?"
My wife nods.
"So cool."
She looks at them. "There is nothing cool about it. Two men were killed there."
They skulk away.
•••
Late Friday, Oct. 5. Police arrest a man who allegedly confesses, tells them where to find the murder weapon. It's buried in a small hole under an industrial park, beneath a stone.
Police credit tips from citizens, including an auto dealer in Bucks County, who said the alleged killer bought his getaway car with a bad check.
•••
Early Friday morning. Television news vans still crowd the small parking lot, broadcast antennas thrust high up in the sky.
The entire front of the ATM is still cranked open, as if lifting its own front panel in surrender. Take what you want. Just don't hurt anybody.
You can see splotches that look like bloodstains on the bottom of the machine.
•••
The day before. Thursday, Oct. 4. Thirty minutes after it happened.
My wife, kids and I drive by, see the flashing lights. It's hard to tell what's going on. My first thought: car accident.
But no. Something else.
Flashing red everywhere. Cops on the roof of the OTB joint across the lot. Yellow crime scene tape blocking off the area. People standing, pointing and murmuring.
Two bodies under white sheets.
Just a minute before, a few blocks away on Bleigh Street, I ask my wife if she'd mind stopping at the ATM.
•••
Thursday morning. A little after 8 a.m.
It happens.
Five shots, in a matter of seconds.
Usually a bank robber will threaten you. Give them the money, nobody gets hurt.
This guy didn't give the guards a chance. He shifted right into hurt.
•••
Wednesday night. Two retired cops — now working for a security company in Pennsauken — go to bed for the last time.
•••
Before all of this: There's a man who decides he needs money.
He knows the daily routine at the Wachovia Bank in the Roosevelt Mall. He knows how the ATM cash delivery run works. Knows one guy stays in the truck, two guys work the machine.
At some point, this man comes up with the idea to overwhelm to the two guards working the machine. Yeah, that's the way to do it.
Later still — maybe it's the night before, maybe it's in that split second when he runs toward them on Tuesday morning — the man decides that the best way to do this is to shoot the two guards. Just squeeze the trigger until they go down.
When he comes up with this plan doesn't matter.
Something in his brain clicks, and suddenly, it all makes perfect sense to him.
