Confessor (x)...

...... it was probably the cloth... and the black.

Yeah, it was the actual cloth, the black/white contrast, and maybe something else.
The overall simplicity? The nineties innocence perhaps?

It certainly wasn't Busiek's Astro City, not because I've any problem with Astro, I really just don't know it that well.

(Kurt Busiek basically translates in my mind to: Dark Horse Conan)

So whatever propelled me, propelled I was to pick up a figure based on stories I know almost nothing about, for blatantly childish reasons: I decided it looked neat.

(being unopened with 14 years of dust and a low price tag probably helped)

ZJ TOYS? Never heard of them. Toy Vault I do know.

On the shelf I'm tossing up 'tween this guy and some virtual unknown (to me) that goes by the  moniker: Samaritan.
Samaritan carries some stylish Silver Age cheese, sporting in this instance a blue toga and stark red jumpsuit, pumping out a half-Flash-half-Marvelman vibe.

But... I take the less visually explosive route of the Confessor, just in case Astro City turns out to be an Ally MacBeal or My Little Pony spin-off, then my embarassing reminder won't be in primary colours.

Anyways - token cardback snap. Take it. Leave it.

So, who is this Confessor?
In a quick cardback regurgitation;

>Man of the Cloth, Jeremiah Parrish, hits Astro City in the late 19th century to help build the Grandenetti Cathedral.
>Unfortunately gets munched by an undead gypsy, and contracts vampirism.
>Parrish, ashamed, takes a powder in the unfinished cathedral for sixty odd years.
>Inspired by a prominent '50s super hero, he comes out of torpor, using his 'powers' for good.
>Parrish works alone up until the nineties - finally taking on Brian Kinney (aka Altar Boy).
>Kinney deduces Confessor's true undead nature, unintentionally driving him away.
>Parrish/Confessor dies. (Heroically, but I won't elaborate).
>Kinney/Altar Boy takes up the mantle, and its assumed the Confessor still lives.

We're up to date.

I skim wiki-clicked a few Astro City blobs too, and Parrish apparently held his thirst at bay by emblazoning a silver cross on his chest (a literally burning reminder of his faith).

Yep. Being a teetottler blood fiend must really suck.

Turns out Brian Kinney hasn't any powers either (he's Nightwing in Christian get-up).
Though everyone assumes it's the original Confessor running around on rooftops.

But by far the most important piece of info?
Forget all else you just read. Kinneys 5'8". I'm 5'8". How inspirational is that?

...sideways glance...

So the Confessor, note: 'future' Confessor as the insert reads, was posed as above in packet.
Thats not exactly important, but I noticing a little something something before I tore into the plastic bubble. You won't spot it in the photo above, not having three dimensions to go on.
If you magically did, you're good. Too good. And you scare me.

Notice it's a Previews Exclusive - for all the quality control that will soon prove.

So Confessor is simple over all, and simples great, but I am a face-sculpt appreciative too. Here we get both worlds. Variants were released. Original white haired, grim mugged Confessor and a mask wearing version are out n' around, so I'll take a well greased guess that the masked head is the fan favourite.

I'm actually pretty down with Mr. Brian-face. (No, not just cos he's 5'8" in 1:12 scale, yeesh)
Minimal austere cloak silhoutte compliments the clear, plain human face. Some nice juxta-jazz.
No over-sculpted uber-realistic dramas crying for attention.

Did I mention the cloth? Real cloth capes, cloaks and skirts have made a small come back in casual lines like Star Wars, Dark Knight Rises or Marvel Legends. They were standard fare in a number of 70s/80s toy lines (Star Wars again, Battlestar Galactica, multiple Megos, AD&D and Super Powers) but somehow the 1990s caused a good chunk of toy manufacturers to churn out ungainly, static plastic capes and cloaks - often hindering of play and poseability.

So like you do with an errant Scotsman, the first thing in kid's minds with cloth clad figures is to figure out whats under there. I've seen no shortage of 'naked' Star wars Imperial Guards as a permanent testament to this.

So having given Kinney Boy the Marilyn Munroe air vent treatment, whats the juice? Simplicity once more. In black. Good news for a figure customizer and I'm pleasantly surprised the Confessor isn't compiled of 22 abdominal muscle hernias and chisel ripped twin-split muscle-man tits. He's humbly athletic instead... with puffy sleeves.

I also note Confessor doesn't have foot pegs. Hmm? I thought foot pegs were the first law of pushing figures out a factory door so they could immediately start performing the limbo at homes around the world. Guess Confessy don't dance.

More variant knowledge to be had...

There are also versions out there which have Connie's hands sculpted in a vampiric stalk style.
A kind of 'tense talons aimed at the throats of crime' look.
Me? I got the fist. Confessorama doesn't sport accessories so there was nothing to grasp aside from his cape edges but I'm feeling open 'talons' would have come off better than fists.

Actually anything would have come off better than this...

Spot the difference? Ohnoyoudidnt. There is no difference. Two left fists, baby. Two left fists.
Serious Southpaw Syndrome.

I completely forgive the underpaid Chinese employee making a figure they don't give a rat's arse about having a concentration lapse and putting the wrong black ball of 15mm crap into an all black arm socket.

Can I forgive the 'Previews Exclusive' tag? Thrust in my face in pop-purple funko design screaming: Buy! More! You! Now! Get!
Like an anthropomorphic hamburger's siren song to an obese child.

Well, I caaaan forgive...

Ahh, I know this ain't any fault on Preview's part, but what has it ever really meant to see the Previews Exclusive sticker on any given figure? In some gullible portion of my mind it provides an expectation that the only mistake which could possibly befall one of their marked figures is accidentally finding gold bullion packaged in with your toy.

Sigh. I can imagine a lot of stuff. Leaping three times my height to catch a frisbee with my mouth. Playing table tennis in zero gravity. Chasing a Care Bear through the savannah wearing a tuxedo made of marshmallows. I actually have trouble imagining having two left hands. I was reading a book prior to posting this, and I'll be driving immediately afterwards. When thinking of flipping pages, steering a U-turn or fine dining with two left hands my brain does a barrel roll ending up like Max from the Aronofsky film Pi. Touching my own brain in the subway.

Yah well. From across the floor, few will notice Confessor's double digits abnormality, cloak may hide it, but me, I always know it's there.

Hey, at least he can hit Bela Lugosi poses better than any of my other figures and with a perpetual forward looming stance he's a shoo-in for casting as a priest in any Mario Bava flick.

"Äaa! I look a lot better in low light!"

Ha, getting a figure for purely aesthetic value only to be batted out by an unforgivable deformity, that'll teach me...

... nahh.

"...Just keep walking, Bri..."

AHA! Of course. What better time to suggest you a quick read? Absolutely unrelated to my prattling post. You know how you hear or read about a book you can't put down? Let's be realistic, that rarely happens, especially regarding the particular books which actualy promote this idea.

I will admit in my life theres definitely been some overcooked pasta and cold cups of tea attributed with not being able to unglue my nose from a paperback.

One book that unintentionally taught me to brew coffee with one hand not looking? Had me still reading as I walked across the room wearing my best "not now, James" face?

Jeff Ryan's Super Mario: How Nintendo Conquered America.

I was initially worried this would work as a 309 page Nintendo advertisement. No fear. It's well balanced, fact based and unbiased for the most. Ryan's thorough research pays off and the fascinating business history and creative processes behind Nintendo's story are dabbed and dotted with gamegeek references.

There are minor jerky moments to the chronological flow, but Ryan is excellent sifting through 30 odd years of spacey-games ashes here (as well as Nintendo's earlier endeavours) with businesses which switch pole positions and shift leaderboard spots in multiple areas of game development like writhing cut snakes.

It is, one way, a tale of giant corporations, trying to increase their shadow casting stride around the globe like creaking, hulking steel Gundams.

Another way, it's a story of a podgy tiny plumber in red overalls. Jumping for a princess.



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You the man, Shiggy!


"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree? Though there's a lot more sun and root space if it does." - Rihia2k.