Greetings, cinemaphiles! Because you demanded it, I’m back with yet another list of independent comics that would make for good movies. Even though this is my third go-around, the problem once again wasn’t finding enough indie comics that could make the transition, it was narrowing down the list. Some were easy to discount, like Whiteout, a thriller about a U.S. marshal stationed in Antarctica investigating a series of grisly murders among scientists at research bases. Why didn’t it make the list? One reason and one reason only: it’s already a movie, opening this September. (I have high hopes, even though they prettied up the homely protagonist by casting Kate Beckinsale and replaced her female British spy cohort with a male love interest.) Or Wildguard, a comic about an American Idol-esque reality show where rookie superheroes compete to join a new superteam. Great premise, but I honestly think it’d work better as a TV show than a movie. Other choices weren’t so easy to weed out, but weed them out I did so that I could bring you the following: five more indie comics that could be turned into terrific films.

STRANGERS IN PARADISE

To sum up Strangers in Paradise is no easy task, but in essence it’s a love story that also happens to be a crime thriller. Except instead of a hardboiled private eye, our hero(ine) is Katchoo, a blonde artist who looks like a model but takes no crap from ANYONE, including you, mister. She also happens to be hopelessly in love with best friend Francine and makes no secret of it; however, Francine loves Katchoo as a friend but is avowedly straight, not at all interested in the love that dare not speak its name. Things get complex when art student David enters their lives and falls head over heels for Katchoo, who for her part couldn’t be less interested. But David isn’t about to let a little thing like sexual orientation stand in the way of true love, and meanwhile Francine doesn’t think David is such a bad catch himself. Everything heats up when Katchoo’s past catches up to her, as we learn she once worked as a high-priced escort/bodyguard for Darcy Parker, one of the biggest crimelords in America, and may have stolen quite a bit of money on her way out. That’s just the tip of the iceberg, though, and before the series is over all of the characters will go through their share of humor, heartbreak, and intrigue.

Much like the comic Blue Monday that I described previously, SiP has nary a cape or supernatural element in sight, taking place in a world that could just as well be our own. (Okay, there’s one superhero parody and one Xena parody, but they’re both dream sequences.) What gives it life, and why it could easily be a great movie, is the characters with all their individual flaws and foibles. Some of those are physical- while Katchoo is a twig, Francine struggles with her weight throughout the series, and while not obese, is never what one would call skinny either. But creator Terry Moore makes it clear through numerous would-be paramours (Katchoo foremost among them) that Francine’s inner beauty shines through and makes her remarkably attractive, in large part due to her compassion and loving personality. (Granted, the boobs don’t hurt either.) Far more interesting, though, are the characters’ personality flaws. While generally good people, all of them have skeletons in their closets and something they’re unwilling to let go of, whether it’s the dream of a relationship with Francine, or Katchoo, or Mr. Right, or something else entirely. The series also does an excellent job of portraying both straight and gay relationships in a highly realistic manner, earning it numerous awards from GLAAD in addition to its Eisner Award for Best Serialized Story.

For all that I love SiP, I do have a few tiny complaints, primarily stemming from the intense “making it up as he goes along” vibe that pervades the series. On multiple occasions we’re given glimpses of the future only to have later events preclude things from actually happening that way, and the series introduces more characters and subplots that are dropped without explanation than any other I’ve ever read. (Wasn’t Katchoo a recovering alcoholic at one point?) I realize this is a backhanded complaint, but Moore brings so much vitality and depth to his characters that when they suddenly disappear without explanation, it’s jarring. Maybe it’s some meta-commentary on how people drift in and out of your life without warning, but by the end you’ll find yourself wondering why minor characters who appear for two issues are developed better than Brad, a major plot-driving character for over half the series. On a related note, the cycle of endless fights and reconciliations gets so repetitive that the characters themselves are forced to address it eventually. And while Katchoo is Moore’s pet character, I’ll admit that for most of the series she was my least favorite. Yes, she’s creative, witty, capable of extreme kindness… she’s also ungodly temperamental, borderline abusive, and (intentionally or not) shows David juuuust enough affection to keep him around while always leaving him wanting more. I know she’s had a tough life and she does improve near the end of the series, but more than once I found myself wishing David would shake off his Katchoo obsession and notice the attractive, stable brunette sitting next to him.

But in the end, those are minor quibbles about a truly remarkable series. If you’re someone who, even with the silly masks and codenames removed, just can’t bring yourself to read any comic involving fantastic powers or situations, do yourself a huge favor and check out Strangers in Paradise. If you don’t believe me, you can take bestselling author and snappy dresser Neil Gaiman’s word for it: “What most people don’t know about love, sex, and relations with other human beings would fill a book. Strangers in Paradise is that book.” ‘Nuff said.

“One man by himself is nothing. Two people who belong together make a world.”

PLANETARY

If your idea of a good time is raiding tombs or lost arks and learning the history of something that never was, have I got the series for you. Elijah Snow, Jakita Wagner, and the Drummer (first name “The,” last name “Drummer”) collectively comprise the field team of Planetary, who bill themselves as “Archaeologists of the Impossible.” Their self-imposed mission is to investigate and document the secret history of the world, all those things that have either through circumstance or careful manipulation remained hidden from the rest of us. In practice, this is an excuse for writer Warren Ellis to play around with the tropes and genre expectations of fiction and plumb just how deep the rabbit hole goes. No corner of literature, cinema, or comics is safe from Planetary’s investigations, and all of them come across looking more interesting than you might originally have thought.

Need an example of what to expect? Elijah Snow’s first mission with the group involves a secret alliance of pulp heroes (thinly-veiled versions of the Shadow, Tarzan, Fu Manchu, Doc Savage, and more) who invented a computer that uses alternate realities to predict the future, only to give their lives fighting off an invasion of Justice League analogues from one of the realities. Later cases include a mysterious island near Japan where giant monsters suddenly appeared in 1950 only to die out by the mid-70s, and a Hong Kong cop who was killed by his partner, but whose ghost appears every night to avenge murders with phantom (but very real) guns until someone else is betrayed and murdered to take his place. As the series progresses the intrigue only deepens, because it turns out Planetary doesn’t just investigate mysteries, they ARE one. Who’s the mysterious “Fourth Man” who funds their operations? Why did they choose to recruit Elijah, and what happened to the previous Third Man? (Killed while investigating the government’s ill-fated attempt at sending a crew into an entirely fictional universe.) And how can they possibly stand against the Four, amoral versions of the Fantastic Four who serve as the dark counterpoint to Planetary’s efforts, explorers who keep their discoveries only for themselves and actively work to cover up or annihilate supernatural beings and occurrences.

If you’ve ever lamented that the two X-Files movies weren’t that great, take note: Planetary is everything the X-Files wanted to be and more. Instead of a gullible wiener who’s a little too fixated on his sister and a bitchy skeptic, you get a century-old newbie, a sardonic British woman who can drop kick a rhino across the Grand Canyon, and a slightly insane young man who would really, really like to be alone with that sexy television of yours. (Okay, Jakita’s also kind of bitchy, but she looks better in leather than Scully.) Rather than bring locked into investigating an alien/mutation/urban legend every week, the comic’s broad remit allows Ellis to explore any genre he wants, and he has quite a vivid imagination. Ergo, a film version could feature Elijah’s recruitment and the pulp hero case to get him up to speed, but then transition into Planetary’s attempts to shut down the Four while Elijah slowly starts to recover his memories… including being trained by Sherlock Holmes and his unrevealed prior connection to Planetary. This movie needs to happen, if only to show that a film version of a comic devoted to exploring the realms of fiction can actually be done right, rather than… well.

”These people need putting down. And you’re getting this briefing now for three reasons. You’re a cranky son of a bitch and no-one really likes you — but we trust you now. You’re always complaining that we never do anything proactive. And we just found out where the Four are. You want to go get them?”

HITMAN

Yet again I’m cheating a bit, in the sense that Hitman was published by DC, one of the big two comic companies. Since it skated along for five years on the outskirts of the DC universe with only rare appearances by superheroes, I’m giving it a pass… besides, it has way more in common with Garth Ennis’ other infamous series, Preacher. Both feature healthy doses of ultra-violence, heroes who don’t take crap from anyone, and philosophical musings hidden between hilariously bizarre scenarios, but Hitman is both slightly more restrained (no cursing or nudity to be found) and played more for laughs. It’s also considered by some to be the better of the two series; that’s debatable, but what’s not is that it’s a hella funny comic with gratuitous violence, outre situations, characters with actual depth, and a surprising amount of heart. Like a Quentin Tarantino flick without the unearned sense of artistic smugness.

Hitman tells the story of Tommy Monaghan, a professional contract killer who accidentally acquires x-ray vision and low-level telepathy and decides to use them to specialize in killing superhuman and paranormal targets… for a modest fee, of course. The thing is, Tommy’s powers are entirely incidental to most stories and, like his codename, are almost forgotten about as the series progresses. Instead, the draw of Hitman is Tommy himself, a smart, funny, and — there’s no way around it — likable professional assassin. Like John Cusack’s character in Grosse Pointe Blank, Tommy has a way of making us empathize with him even as he ends people’s lives, and Ennis writes a poor Irish Catholic son-of-an-immigrant as only an Irishman can. It’s one of life’s great ironies that foreign writers are often the most gifted at articulating exactly what makes this the land of opportunity, and Ennis is one of the best at capturing the greatness of America’s melting pot without glossing over the country’s flaws. As well, there’s the fact that Tommy’s personal ethics lead him to only accept contracts on people who are killers themselves or otherwise (in his mind at least) deserve to die. It doesn’t make it right to cheer him on, of course, but damned if you won’t anyway. It’s an incredibly funny series, but Ennis also knows exactly when to pause the laughs and remind you that, hey- at the end of the day, this man kills people for money. And one of Hitman‘s best moments occurs when best friend Natt the Hatt confronts Tommy with the hypocrisy of his self-imposed moral code.

There’s no shortage of great Hitman stories to translate to the silver screen, as Tommy and his assassin pals got themselves into one impossible scrape after another. A personal favorite is a night job at Gotham Aquarium where a chemical spill has mutated the sealife into zombie penguins and dolphins and harp seals; it’s like Evil Dead 2 meets, I don’t know, pixie farts. Something. Anyway, just cast a charming rogue who can pull off an Irish accent but who isn’t a d-bag (not so fast, Colin Farrell) and give Ennis the writing reins. I will caution, however, that one inclusion in the movie is non-negotiable. You see, the success of Hitman can be traced to exactly one thing, which is that it introduced the world to the single greatest superhero to ever grace the printed page: Dogwelder. The result of a bar bet between Garth Ennis and a friend that no one could come up with a stupider superhero name than “Green Lantern,” Dogwelder’s schtick is that he… well, he welds dead dogs to criminals’ faces. This is wonderful and magic. If you do not see the beauty in Dogwelder, stop reading my article immediately.

“You know you my best friend in the entire world, Tommy. Hell, you my brother. I got your back from now ’til the day we both be checkin’ out. But sometimes you so full of it you make me wanna throw up, man. This whole thing you got, this line you draw — like you ain’t gonna shoot anyone good? Who the hell are you to judge that? Like you don’t mind wastin’ wiseguys an’ gangstas by the dozen, but you ain’t gonna kill no cop? What if he’s on the take? Or he likes beatin’ on any brother looks at him funny? You don’t know! An’ I mean what you talkin’ about now, like you gotta atone or somethin’? You a hitman, Tommy! You kill for money! Live wit’ it! You know it an’ I know it, an’ pullin’ crap like showin’ mercy to Big Ears over there — that ain’t gonna change it for a instant.“

MADMAN

If you ever watched the Saturday morning cartoon “Freakazoid!” back in the day, you’re at least slightly familiar with Madman, whose protagonist served as its inspiration. Following in a proud fictional tradition, Frank Einstein (get it?) is a man searching for his past. Unlike most of his forebears, the reason Frank has to search is that he’s a patchwork corpse stitched back up and reanimated by two benevolently mad scientists. Naming him after their two heroes (Frank Sinatra and Albert Einstein), the scientists don’t have time to educate Frank properly because they borrowed heavily from a mafia boss to finance their experiments, and it turns out mobsters aren’t the patient type. Finding his resurrection left him with no memories but imbued him with enhanced reflexes and agility, as well as psychic sensitivity, Frank creates a costume to hide his hideous appearance modeled after the one thing he remembers liking in his past life, a comic book superhero. Thus properly attired, he sets out on a mission to save his creators and ultimately figure out for what higher purpose he’s been given a new lease on life.

Reading over the above description, it sounds pretty melodramatic and serious, but nothing could be further from the truth. In actuality, Madman is all about brightness and pop fun, a lighthearted romp through the surreal side of life. Naturally there’s danger to overcome and villains to be defeated, but Frank’s adventures have an airy quality to them, and the character himself is genuinely a nice, down-to-earth guy… whether he’s having a leisurely picnic with girlfriend Joe or clashing with a gang of mutant street beatniks, Frank always looks on the bright side of life. He doesn’t even have a secret identity- the mask is simply to cover his scars, and while newspapers call him “the Madman of Snap City,” to friends he’s just Frank (and anyone who wants to be is his friend). Creator Mike Allred is indisputably one of the most talented artists in comics — while on the surface Madman‘s art may seem plain, it’s refreshing to see clean lines without the need for excessive detail at times, and it perfectly suits the tone of the comic. (That said, one of Allred’s greatest strengths is the ability to replicate nearly any drawing style. One Madman story saw the characters drawn differently in nearly every single panel, each one mimicking the artistic style of a popular comic or children’s book. You haven’t lived till you’ve seen Frank with Popeye arms or in the style of Peanuts characters.) That tone is escapism, by the by, mixed with a healthy dose of existentialism. My one criticism of the book is that it delves a little too deeply into philosophical musings at times, but you can’t come down on it too hard for being both fun to read and overly smart… would that more comics were like that.

I’m not going to lie, you probably couldn’t capture everything that makes Madman so ginchy keen in a film, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying. It would have to be animated, as I don’t see Frank’s hyper-colored escapades translating well to real life. That was tried once before with a low-budget live action adaptation of one of Allred’s other creations, the G-Men From Hell, with decidedly mixed results. No, animation is the way to truly do justice to the world’s snappiest comic magazine. Traditional cel animation would do the trick nicely, but The Incredibles proved that CGI is up to the task of handling the hyper-kinetic pop sensibilities of the superhero, so perhaps Frank’s destiny lies in that direction. Either way, Mike Allred (and ideally wife/colorist Laura Allred) has to be onboard as at least Art Director, or we’re not interested, Hollywood. Make a note of that.

“Meanies never win. And you can quote me on that.”

Our fifth entry was going to be Jonah Hex, the legendary scarred gunfighter who was a hero to some, a villain to others, and wherever he rode people spoke his name in whispers. As every man, woman or child knows, he had no friends, this Jonah Hex, but he did have two companions — one was death itself… the other, the acrid smell of gunsmoke. It was going to be Hex, but while doing research for this article I learned that the previously in-limbo Hex movie is now officially set for release in 2010. So, no go. (Although you should still check Jonah Hex out, he’s great.) In its place, we’re going to take a look at the first manga to grace this list:

MAIL ORDER NINJA

I usually steer well clear of manga, but I’m making an exception for Mail Order Ninja because it is quite literally made of awesome. It’s also all-ages, so a movie adaptation would be a great family film in the Pixar mold, aimed toward kids but with jokes that appeal to adults. M.O.N. puts us in the shoes of Timmy McCallister, your average fifth-grader at L. Frank Baum Elementary School. Timmy’s a nice young kid who digs ninjas and comics graphic novels, but he’s sick of getting pushed around by everyone, from rich girl Felicity Huffington to school bully Brock, who’s formed an unholy alliance with Timmy’s bratty sister Lindsay. Fed up, Timmy enters a contest to gain the exclusive services of world famous ninja Yoshida Jiro for a year, and (since it wouldn’t be much of a story otherwise) wins! Soon things are a bit different around school, where Brock’s American Bullying Association license is permanently revoked. With the halls safe for normal kids to walk without fear for their lunch money, Timmy beats out Felicity for class president in a landslide, and plans to celebrate his victory with an immense party after the school dance. But Felicity isn’t ready to cede control without a fight, importing Jiro’s nemesis Nobunaga and the entire White Dragon Clan to help her regain power. Something tells me this school dance is about to get totally ninja…

It’s hard to describe what makes M.O.N. so great, aside from the cliche that author Joshua Elder really does have a great grasp on the voice and motivations of a 10-year-old. The book is crammed with funny asides, many in the form of text boxes that crop up next to characters at random times, pop-up video style. Elder is clearly a Generation Y-er who grew up on the same stuff we did and loves paying homage to it; a perfect example is Timmy’s graphic novel about Jiro’s adventures, where both the dialogue and action mirror Optimus Prime’s assault on Megatron in the 1986 Transformers movie. Occasionally the references feel a bit ham-fisted (“There’ll be no more dark sarcasm in this classroom!” “Hey, teacher! Leave them kids alone.”), but they’re nearly always funny, which excuses a lot. The story itself is kid friendly, by which I mean there won’t be any plot points you don’t see coming, but A) it’s written for young adults, and B) it packs enough laughs that odds are you won’t care. The violence is cartoony, and the stories themselves are quick reads. (Two volumes are out so far; a third was due earlier this year but has been pushed back to November.) I don’t really have much else to add- farm M.O.N. out to Dreamworks or Pixar and let them do what they do best. This one’s got my personal guarantee, you can’t go wrong.

“Son, owning a ninja is a big responsibility. Remember what happened with the iguana?”

As a special bonus, here’s one indie comic that definitely should NOT be made into a movie:

FLAMING CARROT

The Flaming Carrot’s origins are shrouded in mystery. Some say he was once an ordinary man who went insane after reading 5000 comics in one sitting to win a bet. One thing is certain: for reasons all his own, he took to wearing a giant fiery carrot mask and flippers (in case he has to swim) and dispensing two-fisted justice to anyone who threatens Palookaville, a suburb of Iron City. Occasionally taking direction from a mysterious speaker he found implanted in his chest after awaking from a three-day bender, the Carrot is a hard-hitting, hard-living, hard-loving hero who likes his drinks stiff and his women loose. With his trademark battle cry of “Ut!”, he wages lethal yet comedic war on any evildoer who’s man enough to take him on.

I actually really dig the Carrot, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to see him on celluloid anytime soon. The problem is that essentially all of the humor in FC’s adventures is based on surreality. That’s fine as far as it goes, but the surreality isn’t a vehicle for the humor, it IS the humor. For instance, while wandering through a dreamlike dimension, the Carrot might pass by a woman breastfeeding a dictionary. That’s slightly funny from an oddity standpoint, but it’s not the setup for a gag… that IS the gag. With the Carrot’s habit of talking almost exclusively in non-sequiturs, some of them zen but most of them just nonsense, you really have to have a high tolerance for absurdist humor to get much out of his adventures. They’re usually best in small doses, and I definitely can’t see many members of your average audience getting into the Carrot’s vibe. Ultimately, this one’s better left on the comic page.

Interestingly, FC almost, sort of was the inspiration for a movie. See, the Carrot was a founding member of the Mysterymen, a group of working-class heroes with the highest mortality rate of any superteam in history. Alongside members like the Shoveler, Jumpin’ Jehosaphat, and Mr. Furious, who gets so mad at crime he becomes bulletproof, FC battled such menaces as an army of Hitler’s cloned feet. The Mysterymen (with a space added into their name) ultimately did get a movie, but the Carrot was rudely not included, perhaps because ’90s special effects weren’t capable of doing justice to a 5′ carrot mask with flames perpetually shooting out the top. Maybe it’s for the best — the film didn’t have much in common with its avant garde source material, and the world may not be ready for FC’s bizarre brand of vigilantism. But know that whenever evil threatens hot women, the Carrot will be leading the charge on his nuclear-powered pogo stick, ready to win the day through his peculiar blend of raw grit, blinding stupidity, and dumb luck.

Ut!