Yes, you read that right! The film doesn’t come out until this weekend, but yours truly was one of the lucky ones who got an advanced screener (thanks to the wondrous people at Halo-8), and of course I immediately sat down and watched it. Now I am more than pleased to offer you an early review of the documentary about one of our generation’s most prolific creators.
But first, some additional notes: to those new to the site, you might notice that there is some obvious love for Morrison’s work. The site was named after a book that he hasn’t even finished writing yet (although it was announced right after Final Crisis, which was about three months or so before the site launched). We (I) have also written multiple articles about Grant Morrison, some of which are (somewhat) well received and some of which aren’t. However, despite all of that, I am first and foremost a fan of just about everything that he’s written, and being able to watch a film that chronicles the life and current times of Morrison was something I had been anxious to watch since I first heard about it. I may not be the world’s first and foremost scholar on Morrison’s work, and perhaps I’m not even his biggest fan of all time ever of all time, but he is still my favorite current author, both in and out of comics.
So, with my excited bias clearly at the forefront of my review, check behind the cut to see my thoughts on the film. And unlike every other film or television review I’ve ever done, there are no major or minor spoilers given away in this review – just polite teases.
Grant Morrison is a prolific creator to say the least. Coming up in the 80’s with 2000 AD and Zenith, the man managed to break into American comics with the DC British invasion as he took up Animal Man and the Doom Patrol. But everyone knows the story isn’t as clear cut as that, because certainly the man behind the Invisibles can’t just have a regular “woke up and felt like telling this” story to him. This, to say the least, is what Talking With Gods shows us.
Beginning with very early childhood, Talking With Gods shows us where Morrison grew up in Scotland. We’re taken on a walking tour of some of the places Morrison’s father used to take him as a child, and given insight from Morrison about the type of man his father was – which was a conspiracy hound to say the least. At a very early age, the fear of the Atomic Bomb was put into Morrison from both his parents. His parents were loving, but both had their eccentricities and beliefs about life as we know it, and they imparted this on Morrison at a very young age. Morrison began to hold on to these ideas, and when he began reading comics it helped shape the man he’d eventually grow up to be.
We see a lot of early Morrison in this, such as when he started to write and draw his comics with his own characters, as well as when he was in a band. The film is given from the perspective of many different people, including family friends and Timothy Callahan (author of the book The Early Years, an in-depth look at Morrison’s career). And of course, as the story goes, Morrison was quite straight edge until his 30’s, at which point he began to try new things – both alcoholic and drug related. Morrison gives a rather simplistic explanation of why he chose to start imbibing, and it’s both amusing and a little sad at the same time. And soon we begin to see the effect it had on Morrison with interviews from people like Jill Thompson (Invisibles artist) and Warren Ellis (who arguably has the best story of the film). You will literally see how Morrison began to idolize his own characters, and moving from having a character based somewhat on him physically to beginning to idealize and act as the character he is writing (King Mob).
Continued belowThus we have the rise, the fall, and the rise of the emotional Morrison. It’s interesting, because if you look back at single issues of the Invisibles, you’ll notice a lot in the letters column that may have seen “in character” to Morrison that were more honest and brutal expressions from the man (in an early issue, he mentions being depressed). We see Morrison as he travels the world while writing the Invisibles, and begin to get incredibly illuminated on how much the Invisibles is really just the story of Morrison at the time, as he was and is. While we of course knew that a lot of what Morrison writes reflects both his personal beliefs, upbringing, and real life experiences, it was still incredibly interesting and sometimes shocking to see what in fact was fiction representing truth. It’s also incredibly interesting to see Morrison’s opinions on some of the stranger moments of the book, his artist’s takes on how he presented information to them for some of the more outlandish scenes, as well as his take on the final line of the series.
The large majority of the film is colleagues and collaborators illuminating the Morrison process. The Invisibles takes a big focus throughout the entirety of the film (although no spoilers are given, so don’t worry those of you who haven’t read it) as the people who have worked with him talk about their work, such as Cameron Stewart, Jill Thompson, Frank Quitely, and Chris Weston. Others, such as Geoff Johns, Mark Waid, and Matt Fraction all weigh in on their opinions of Morrison as both a person and a fellow writer, and each offer up completely unique takes of the man. Jill Thompson offers some of the best stories (outside of Warren Ellis), and Frank Quitely offers up some of the more personal aspects of Morrison’s life, even appearing onscreen on the couch with Morrison.
To be honest, this story is one of the more interesting documentaries about the life and times of a modern writer that I have seen recently. I’ve always found Morrison an incredibly interesting character, but to have him come on screen and own up for his own odd behavior – and to have it juxtaposed with film of his more intense times (such as at the Disinfocon 200, when Morrison showed up claiming to be both drunk and soon high – and delivering an incredibly powerful speech/rant, which you can find on YouTube) – is pretty moving. There are some candid Morrison moments in the documentary that really help to add to the general “mythos” the man has as a personality, and after having watched the film I easily feel like I have a newfound respect for the man. It also makes me want to reread some of his work with a new knowledge of just how much of himself is in the story, such as the Filth and Flex Mentallo – which were arguably already pretty obvious, but the movie definitely adds to it.
The long and short of it is this – I’m not a big documentary fan unless I’m already interested in the specific topic, and as it were I was and am interested in information about Morrison not only as a writer and creator but as a human being. The film has a good balance of both. It is very much a biography of his life and how he has gone from point A (a struggling nobody in Scotland) to point B (a world famous and very well off writer living in an AWESOME looking home back in Glasgow). This film is pretty much what any comic book fan would want out of a creator-centric film. We get a look at his writing habits, styles and process throughout the film to the point where Morrison even demonstrates some of the magic that he believes in on camera. How much you believe in his spiritual nature is up to you. And by the end of the film, you will almost certainly have a new opinion of his work, even if you already loved it like I do.
Grant Morrison is a very interesting personality. He’s a very intense man and a very creative writer. Watching this documentary is simply icing on the already existing cake of love that you and I both have for his work. Even if you’re not a big Morrison fan, it’s definitely worth watching, as it gives a peek into the mind of the infinitely creative. It’s an incredibly honest film, and one that assuredly lived up to the hype that Morrison’s name alone gives.
And if nothing else, the movie ends on an absolutely great final line.
