Due Process: Gentlemen Broncos

Ten minutes in, my only fear was that Gentlemen Broncos wouldn't go all the way. By the time there was only ten minutes to go, I wished they'd reeled it all back in.

Not because of the attach-laser-turrets-to-everything notebook drawings, because I did that. Not from the fantasy/sci-fi author hero worship, because I did that, too. In fact, there's plenty here for library-lurking writers-workshop dorks to draw parallels to: my father always dreamed of raising his kids in a dome home; my mother's clothing was oblivious to both fashion and function; and I often injected pointy-eared, soft-porn scenarios into my private journals.

Regardless, Gentlemen Broncos eventually trades in its anachronistic nostalgia for gross-out gags, and even treats prime awkward-teen-romance real estate as a mishandled sidebar. Verdict: [D]

Skip To The Good Part:  The airbrushed, Boris-Valejo recreations of main guy Benjamin's stories are a pulpy piecemeal of Buck Rogers, Top Gun, and Heavy Metal magazine, but certainly don't stop there.