Bye bye Johnny!

No time for this, but since it seems like everyone else is busier than me (ha, not possible, except maybe for Graeme, but that's his news, not mine), let me get in for at least one book from this week...

ULTIMATUM #1: Well, you have to give them points for actually DOING something -- there are several significant deaths here -- at least as significant as not the "real" Marvel U can be; and we're assuming there won't be any tap-backs on this. But, on reading this, I WAS genuinely surprised about what was going on, which is way way more than one normally expects from a superhero comic.

The big problem is there isn't a lot of story here -- despite the opening pathos of the proposal, there's lots of incident, but not actual story, to my mind.

Actually the BIG problem is that David Finch isn't really very good at storytelling -- I had to flip back and forth a few times to follow the events, and his use of space is really awkward. For example, New York is mostly underwater, including several far-above-ground rooms in high rises, but then the subway car holding the actually popular characters just gets lashed by what looks to be a little rain. Or the sequence where Sue pushes away the flood waters... how does that work exactly on that scope, and without knocking over buildings?

A high GOOD for concept, a mediocre EH for execution.

What did YOU think?

-B

Apocalypso!

An hour to vote, yeesh! Note to self: do early voting next year!!

BUT, if you get a long line, wait in it anyway. You would at Disneyland, and voting is way more important!

What I don't get is the most recent polls that show like 4-5% of people are still "undecided"? Who ARE these people? Whichever side you are on, it seems like these are pretty clear choices -- are they just randomly marking things off once they get into the balloting area? I literally don't understand!

If I were King, I'd want to make participating in Democracy a requirement of citizenship. If you don't vote, your taxes get tripled or something. Of course, I'd also give a "None of the Above" choice, and if that wins, then there's a redo with none of the current candidates being allowed to run...

It might not work, but it sure would be more fun!

I received FALLOUT 3 on Friday, and every non-working hour that Ben is asleep (and I'm not) has been put there. It's not really a proper "Fallout" game for me, as I really liked the "tactical" combat of "Action Points" to move or shoot or heal or whatever, but the mixture of FPS and "VATS" in FO3 is really addictive and compelling. I've barely made it more than the first steps of the main quest, preferring to wander around and search for stuff, but I am having a really good time with it.

I actually had to start over on the 3rd day because I was a little too free with shooting, and ran out of ammo/money/supplies (plus I remaximized my stats), but now that I've got the hang of it, I'm cruising along the radioactive ruins of Washington DC with style and aplomb. So far, I'd give it an easy GOOD...

Oh, Comics? Fine...!

ASTONISHING X-MEN GHOST BOXES #1: Yikes, only 16 pages of comics content for $3.99? When Warren Ellis "self-publishes" FELL, it is only half the price. Ignoring the price (how?!?), the content was fine -- I was kind of unclear on the "616" section, as isn't that supposed to be "our" Marvel earth? But I thought the Steampunk "889" section was pretty fun. If you somehow got comics for free, this might be a low GOOD, but at $4, it's extremely EH. I've cut 60% from my order for issue #2, and I still suspect I will have way too many copies left over. My biggest fear is that this will cripple sales on "regular" AST X-Men...

FINAL CRISIS: RAGE OF THE RED LANTERNS: This would have been more satisfying had it not a) been billed as "Final Crisis" (since, if it is, I don't really see HOW), and b) didn't end on a "cliffhanger" of "now buy some other comics!" I rather liked the concept of the Red Ring's power replace the blood and heart of the bearer, and I very much liked the kitty Lantern, but otherwise I might have had too high expectations for this... and it didn't live up to them whatsoever. Very EH.

JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #26: The MOST AWESOME thing about this issue is that it introduces perhaps the most obscure DC character of all -- a character originally planned to run in the 1970s, but wisely canceled when Tony Isabella pointed out how misguided it was: The Brown Bomber. Read more about him right here.

When I got to that point in the story I just laughed and laughed and laughed (knowing the in-joke it references), so that was as much entertainment I've gotten from a comic in a long time.

The rest of the comic is fairly straightforward stuff, which, really, leaves the characters in the same place they started -- I was hoping for more of a change.

I also laughed a bit at the cover's "NOT AN ELSEWORLDS!" declaration.

So if you're crazy, like me, I can give it a GOOD, but if you're a normal reader, probably more of an OK.

DAYBREAK v3: I *think* that the latest volume of Brian Ralph's post-apocalypse comic is only available at the moment direct from Bodega, and I was *told* that they might not bother with distributing it through Diamond (nor are they available from Baker & Taylor). How this will yield even 50 stores in America selling it, I'm not entirely sure, and that's a real fucking shame, because I love this book. First person survival horror that's genuinely moving and scary. The best thing I read last week (and not just because I'm playing Fallout3, either), and it is really EXCELLENT.

ACME NOVELTY LIBRARY v19: Not sure why I liked this one much more than previous issues -- maybe because there's less distance in the storytelling? Opening with Rusty's fiction as though that were the main story was really wonderful, and just the right choice. VERY GOOD.

That's it for me: have to get ready for this week's comics...

What did YOU think?

-B

MIA, Post #4: Jeff reviews Immortal Iron Fist #19 and Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen

Clunk. That's the sound of me dropping the ball, I'm afraid. Today's my birthday, I'm at work, and in my spare moments, I spend a lot of time debating how much plot I really need to describe for a review of Marvel Apes. Unfortunately, those spare moments have disappeared as the workday has heated up, so the Apes have as well--I only have reviews for two books for you today. I may or may not get some short reviews next week, depending how the birthday weekend goes and how chicken I am about diving into revisions to my novel, but someone will pick up the slack by then, I'm assuming...

Behind the jump: two books, no apes.

IMMORTAL IRON FIST #19: I haven't checked out any of Duane Swierczynski's Cable stuff because I really don't care about Cable much (and, frankly, as a cranky fanboy manbaby, I was annoyed that Fabian Nicieza's perfectly fine Cable & Deadpool--which if I remember correctly was one of the few books that, while not selling like gangbusters, held its audience month after month--got screwed up so Cable could end up back in the X-books proper). But his Iron Fist is a perfectly acceptable substitute for the Frubaker team--in fact, it's an astonishingly good simulacra, right down to some too-clever dialogue that bugged me a little in exactly the same way some of Fraction's too-clever dialogue bugged me a little. The art suffers by not being by David Aja (but the art was suffering by not being by David Aja before the first team left), but Travel Foreman and his Jae Lee-influenced art (to my eye, anyway) is fine--occasionally striking, occasionally muddy. If there's a problem, it's that this arc feels a bit *too* safe, but that's not a bad problem to have in a book. And it means that Swierczynski's earned some trust from me--I'll be curious to see where he goes from here. Good stuff.

SUPERMAN'S PAL, JIMMY OLSEN #1: Upping the ante in the game of Continuity Hold 'Em he and Johns and Morrison have going on, writer James Robinson brings back Code Name: Assassin, another 1st Issue Special forgotten hero. (He also brought back Atlas in Superman #677, I guess. Thanks, Wikipedia!) My inner ten year old, who never forgot CN:A, recognized the costume on the cover of this book while perusing the racks the other day and I gotta admit, it put a goofy smile on my face.

The story covers not only CN:A, but the Cadmus Project, Vigilante and even tosses in a new idea (as far as I know) about a border town filled with illegal immigrant supervillains. (It's not as terrible as it sounds, but it's not that great, either.) While the layouts, art, and some of the scenes are really well-done, the story suffers because at the core of it you've got...Jimmy Olsen.

Robinson dutifully gives Jimmy a quest and something to prove, but it's paint by numbers--this could've been a Steve Lombard one-shot and it would've had the same punch. I don't think Robinson has read the last four or five attempts to make Jimmy Olsen interesting (apart from maybe a bit of Countdown) and, honestly, who can blame him? But, really, one gets the sense Robinson doesn't give two shits about Jimmy Olsen (and, again, who can blame him?) except to the extent he can use Jimmy as a hook on which he can hang his stylish ensemble of characters and concepts.

Olsen is one of those characters that's been written and rewritten, and spun and respun, such that the palimpsest of the DCU has just completely worn through: I can't read three pages of the character without seeing through the hole in the tapestry and watching a team of professionals doing their best to squeeze some blood from DC's register trademarked stone.

It's highly Okay--I'll go with Good, in fact--and I think new readers and older readers will find different things to enjoy in it. If this is what a good DC superhero comic reads like in 2008, I really worry how such a creature will evolve by 2013--I don't think you're gonna get more obscure than the 1st Issue Specials--but let's get double-crossed by that bridge when we come to it.

MIA, Post #3: FC: Rage of the Red Lanterns #1, Ghost Rider #27, Hellcat #2

Change of plans! Guess what I swapped out for Marvel Apes #1 and 2?

FINAL CRISIS: RAGE OF THE RED LANTERNS #1: You know, what this reminded me of, and not in a particularly good way? Todd McFarlane's Spider-Man #1. (There's a good way to be reminded of Todd McFarlane's Spider-Man #1?) It's trying really, really hard--too hard, in fact--and yet the only parts that really stuck with me were the clumsy bits.

First off, Rage of the Red Lanterns is kinda funny, because it sounds enough like Raise the Red Lantern as to get images of Sinestro screwing Gong Li, who's one his five wives. Second, I know Geoff Johns has had a lot on his plate these last twelve months, but I'm sorta shocked the Red Lantern oath is such weak sauce:

"With blood and rage of crimson red, ripped from a corpse so freshly dead together with our hellish hate we'll burn you all-- that is your fate!"

Really? That's what you've got? Like I said, I know the dude's been busy but you'd think half the fun of launching a color spectrum of lantern corps would be really sweating out the details of your oath, particularly since Green Lantern's oath, while not being mistaken for T.S. Eliot anytime soon, at least has an elegance to it. This really seemed like Johns went: "Hmm. Red...dead. Hate...fate? Eh, why not?"

Third, the Red Lanterns, like, vomit blood or hate, or (more likely) blood-hate on the green lanterns, destroying them. So you've got guys who can create anything they can conceive of, versus a bunch of pissed-off bulimics. Despite that set-up, the fight scenes are incredibly dull.

Fourth, around the main Red Lantern, Atrocitus, there's usually (but not always) a 'BaBUM' sound effect that the character describes as a beat like a war drum, but which I'm sure, what with all the blood-barf, is the beat some giant heart. It reminds me of the jungle drums onomatopoeia which were overused in McF's Spider-Man #1: it is supposed to be ominous, but it's really just impressively annoying.

Fifth, there's double page-spread in this where all the Red Lanterns vomit blood. There is a cat Red Lantern, puking blood. There is a jellyfish Red Lantern. It is not shown puking blood. I spent more time thinking about the jellyfish Red Lantern and what it must be puking instead of blood, or how it could in fact puke, than any other piece of information in this issue.

Sixth, a Blue Lantern shows up at the end and his name is Saint Walker. He recharges Green Lantern's ring to 200%. (Unfortunately, we do not hear his oath.)

I have three theories. The first is, that this comic was written by Geoff Johns with the specific goal of making Alan David Doane suffer a brain-exploding stroke, and we're watching the first-ever attempted murder by comic. The second is, Geoff Johns is a very, very busy guy and someone needs to sit his shit down and tell him he's overextending himself. He knows where the big beats are supposed to go, but something's short-circuiting when he goes to put those beats in place. The third is, this comic is awesome and I am now completely inured to what is awesome, and my grasp on what is awesome was always somewhat shaky to begin with. (Because Spider-Man #1 was, in fact, awesome.) That could certainly be the case but in any event I found this to be a surprisingly Awful comic.

GHOST RIDER #27: I've been picking up Jason Aaron's run on this title for a few issues now, and find it frustrating in how close to being incredibly awesome it is. It reads like a book written by a guy who loves the character, the idea of a dude who rides a motorcycle and has a flaming skull for a head, and knows an an aesthetic to go with it--unapologetic pop trash, specifically the just-passed revival of a '70s drive-in culture with its strong roots in unapologetic Southern trashiness. (I mean, the first page of this issue has kung-fu nuns, for Christ's sake.) I think this is a frankly brilliant choice.

And yet it has yet to gel for me. If nothing else, the artist Tan Eng Huat is going in an entirely different direction. For one thing, Huat's tendency to draw every male character with a gaunt elongated faces undercuts the visual punch of a hero running around hanging skull. I know some people dig Huat's work (I think Tucker Stone wrote recently it's the only interesting thing about the book) and with Villarrubia doing the coloring, the book has a sumptious, vibrant appearance but it's the wrong kind of sumptiousness: you don't want Vittorio Storaro doing the cinematography for Two-Lane Blacktop.

That's not entirely the reason, mind you. For whatever reason, Aaron's work really hasn't clicked with me (short from that one admittedly spectacular story about Wolverine in the pit being shot full of bullets 24/7) and it's probably more my fault than his. I feel like we both have an appreciation for vulgar panache but somehow I just can't get my taste in line with his. It's vexing. This should be better than OK for me, I keep thinking.

HELLCAT #2: Hellacat #1 is around my apartment somewhere but I can't seem to find it, so I figured I'd dive in with issue #2, thinking, you know, how lost could I possibly get?

The answer: lost, lost, lost. I have a general sense of the who, the what, and the why, of course, but the specificity of why Hellcat and a group of shaman bicker for that majority of the issue I wasn't able to entirely entangle. The art is so damned lovely I don't really care, mind you, and Immonen has such a confident swagger to her dialogue I'm sure the fault is all mine. In some ways, the book reminds me of the first few issues of Finder (or, if you want to get even more old school, Thriller), where not getting everything that is going on somehow seems to be part of the fun. I don't think that means we'll see an uptick in readers by the end of the mini, however. Good stuff, though. Maybe even more so. I'll really have to find that first issue and see.

(Oh, and it's kinda shameful the way Immonen, a relatively new writer, is so easily able to beat Wolfman in portraying an impulsive character who doesn't want any help while avoiding making that character come off like a jerk. While Supergirl in Brave & Bold #17 was incredibly annoying, Hellcat in a slightly similar situation is much more justifiably impatient yet still charming. On the other hand, Wolfman has been writing comics since I was ten or so--just the fact the guy can turn in something that doesn't smack of exhausted hackery is an accomplishment.)

Tomorrow: Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen one-shot for sure, and maybe Iron Fist #19, Marvel Apes #1 & 2, and Wolverine: Roar.

MIA, Post #2: B&B #17, Criminal #5 &6, Coraline, Crossed

I'm back. I'm sure many of you read this in Google Reader or Bloglines, but just in case: don't let my senile meanderings cause you to miss Jog's thoughts Unknown Soldier #1, below.

This weekend, Edi and I put up these Ikea shelves in the bathroom--that woman likes her creams, and I require an inordinate amount of trimming, shaving and de-stinkifying just to maintain my typical appearance of a guy who looks like he spends the nights in bus terminals. But the walls in our bathroom are miserable wretched things--like they were constructed with the cast-offs from some third grade class's first experiements with paper mache--that the second shelf proved impossible to mount, leaving us with one embedded useless screw and one wretched screw that stuck out a sixth of an inch or so.

So, the other day while I was at work, Edi covered that with this:

From CE

And this is why although I swore long ago that I would not engage in that loathsome blogger trick of talking about how awesome my wife is, I find it occasionally unavoidable.

Reviews of what stuff I promised in that there title at top, after the jump.

BRAVE & BOLD #17: As a San Franciscan, I appreciated Phil Winslade's more-or-less accurate use of San Francisco landmarks and references. And as a comic book reader that's been reading these damn things for the majority of my life, I appreciated that Marv Wolfman is still getting work. But, holy shit, was this god-damned dull. At least in the old days of Marvel Team-Up, it'd be over in one issue. But here everyone natters on and on, and by the time we get to the set-up, the issue is over. Sub-Eh at best.

CRIMINAL #5 & #6: I like the ambiguity Brubaker is setting up here--is Jacob repressing grief, or the fact he killed his wife?--but it'll probably play out better in the trade than in the single issues because the lag allows someone as slow as me to catch up with the inferences. (I say "probably" because Brube usually has an extra twist for slow dumbasses like me who think we're on to him.)

I do worry a bit about Icognito killing off the momentum Criminal has been working toward, and, depending on how the current arc, "Bad Night" wraps up, I might write more about what I think is unique about Criminal, and why it'd be a shame if that happened. But now's probably too soon for that, so lemme just mention how consistently entertaining the back matter is, and how much it gives extra value to the singles.

It seems to me that the most 'successful' alternative books on the market (this, Walking Dead, Fell, and Powers) have, at the very least, a substantial letters page and, at most, an extra dash of bonus materials like essays and art. I can't say it's the only reason why I'm still picking up the singles instead of waiting for the trades for all those titles, but it's certainly a contributing factor. Considering part of the thinking on the part of creators is that it's also cheaper than paying an artist for the extra four or five pages (although they can if the particular issue calls for it), I'm really at a loss why the mainstream books don't have bring these back on a more consistent basis.

Anyway, this arc is on that cusp between highly Good and Very Good, depending on where it pans out and how you feel about smartly done genre material.

CORALINE: Neil Gaiman seems like a sweetheart of a fellow and, when considered purely at the line-by-line quality of his work, is certainly one of the best writers to ever work in comics. But I've always found him a tremendous puss of a storyteller: I bailed on Sandman long before its finale because he seemed to regard the idea of catharsis the way a hemophiliac regards a rooomful of scissors.

I'm sure this is because I missed the point of the whole Sandman blah-blah-blah, but I gave it something like forty full issues before giving up and in that whole time (along with 1602 and The Eternals), I felt I was watching bout after bout by a boxer I knew would always take a fall in the fifth. With the possible exception of Mr. Punch, in which Gaiman uses his reluctance to nicely sketch the limits to which children can understand the business of adults and the way in which what lurks beyond those limits becomes haunting myth, I'm not sure if there was anything of Gaiman's longer work I've truly enjoyed: liked, yeah, but never loved.

All of which is my fucked-up and backhanded way of saying I think the novel Coraline may be the best thing Gaiman's ever done. His essential foppishness serves children's stories well: knowing in advance that the end result of such stories is usually the return of the status quo--hair mussed and shirt untucked, maybe, but really no worse for wear--gives a writer who finds the prospect of truly violent or disturbing resolutions uninteresting or vulgar, license to break out all the considerable tricks they've never gotten around to using, safe in the knowledge they'll have no true repercussions in the story.

And so Gaiman's story of a bored little girl who finds a secret door to the abandoned flat next door and finds her Other Mother--delightful meal in hand and buttons sewn over each eye--welcoming her into a strange world eager to entertain, is genuinely creepy but also genuinely witty. When Coraline asks one of the characters of the other world if Other Mother truly loves her, the character thinks for a moment and then replies, "Yes, or maybe she's just hungry."

If you're like me and have never been able to hop on the Gaiman love train as it choo-choos every few years or so around the tiny toy kingdom of comics fandom, try giving Coraline a read. I found it really Very Good stuff.

CROSSED #1: To further give you reason to doubt my critical judgment, I liked this first issue more than Jog (or, well, anyone else I read on the Net, for that matter). Mind you, I liked it better before I found out there was an issue #0 that apparently sets everything up, and I kinda hope there's a later issue that lays things out so I don't feel like an asshole for assuming that in picking up a book labeled as #1, I'd be getting the first part of the damn thing.

Um, other than that, what can I say now that it's been several weeks since I read it? I guess it's very easy to conclude from reading the issue that, if you identify at all with the guy who plays Magic: The Gathering and/or have ever harbored any heroic fantasies whatsoever, Garth Ennis hates you. I can't really say for sure that's the case, but I found it refreshing that not only did Ennis put it right out on the table but he didn't draw out the rather violent repercussions of his contempt: whatever else is going to happen in the next eight or so issues, it's not going to be the awful end of Magic The Gathering guy. That's already out of the way.

And for what it's worth, considering the narrator talks about an ex-marine having more or less the same fantasy and coming to more or less the same end, and considering ex-military dudes are the standard choice of Ennis protagonist, I think there's a very good case to be made the gruesome end of Fanboy and his family isn't Ennis ladling on the hate (or just ladling on the hate, if you prefer): like Richard Laymon and a generation of splatterpunk horror writers (well, the ones that weren't just horrible gore fetishists who'd read too much Harlan Ellison, anyway), Ennis is curious to see what remains once all heroic fantasy is stripped from the core of horror fiction. Hopefully, he'll have more to find there than titties and rape fantasies. (If ever there was an author whose oeuvre made a convincing case for the chemical castration of horror authors--and I'm sure he was probably a lovely, lovely guy--it was Richard Laymon.)

Before my knowledge of the zero issue, I thought this was Good. Now, I'd give it an OK. If you are anything like everyone else on the Internet, you will probably disagree.

Tomorrow: Ghost Rider #27, Hellcat #2, and (maybe) the first two issues of Marvel Apes.

Light the Lanterns of Triumph: Jog finally bought and read a comic from 10/22

Unknown Soldier #1

This is the newest ongoing series to come out of Vertigo, a reimagining of the Robert Kanigher/Joe Kubert concept as a saga of violence in Uganda, circa 2002. It's bloody, tense and not a little pulpy, something a bit more bombastic than what we've been getting lately from the publisher. It does bring to mind an older Vertigo project, though, and I'm not talking about the 1997 Garth Ennis/Kilian Plunkett take on the same property.

No, this thing really brings to mind Congo Bill, as in the 1999-2000 miniseries from writer Scott Cunningham and artist Danijel Zezelj. It was also an Africa-set revival of an old adventure comic -- specifically the late '50s/early '60s Congorilla iteration of the older Congo Joe jungle feature -- also filled with guns and toughness and grit and suspense and angst and people who kill. Hell, both projects even sport Richard Corben cover art, although he's on variant duty this time, I think only for issue #1; the very welcome Igor Kordey provides standard covers.

I sort of liked Congo Bill; it was one of those comics that, through its black ops storyline, sought to say things about violence and politics. Granted, it was also one of those updates of a fantastical comic wherein the fantasy elements are avoided as much as conceivably possible, and treated mainly as elements of a charged metaphor - I think colonialism and its legacy was an active concern, though it's been a while. There was a grudging feel to the series' eventual use of the Congorilla tropes, like everyone probably could have come up with a neater means of getting the point across if not beholden to using the stuff of older corporate holdings, although some work is done to fit it all in.

This new comic is far more direct. It's got a guy with a messed-up face who hates the abuse of human rights and fights alone, so far. It's probably going to try and go deeper - after all, one of this issue's key distinguishing features is a backmatter essay in which writer Joshua Dysart frets madly over the implications of his updated concept:

"As for the rest of it, well, any way you slice it, there's something inherently immoral about crafting a sensitive, exciting, anti-war piece of pop entertainment that claims a love for a people while using the worst aspects of their lives to create drama."

Or, more to the point:

"Sometimes I feel like a socio-political Russ Meyer, aiming my 'camera' at the giant tits of atrocity (atrocititty?)."

I enjoyed Dysart's work with Mike Mignola on the recent B.P.R.D.: 1946; it teased out some of the human suffering inside the Hellboy world's Nazi-fighting roots, explicitly raising notions of horrible experimentation behind all those horror and sci-fi devices, without overwhelming the flavor of the thing.

Here, the real-world connections are necessarily firmer. Lwanga Moses is a doctor whose parents managed to flee Uganda in the closing months of the rule of Idi Amin Dada. He returned in 2000 to aid the distressed and displaced, though he's plagued with violent dreams, which often seem to conclude with his snapping the neck of his beloved wife.

Much background is doled out as the issue moves forward, and soon Our Pacifist (Ha!) Hero is leaping into action to defuse a terrible situation, one that prompts visions of himself as a shirtless, wild-eyed, blood-spattered macho man super-killer, plus a voice in his head urging him to use his deadly talents to murder the hell out of some nasty people. Blazing gunfire, mutiliation and an ongoing comic book series ensue!

Not a novel setup, fusing the classic trope of a peaceful man... pushed to the edge with that of the mild-mannered man... with a dark and forgotten past so as to create a sense of inevitability; it kind of saps the drama, really, since Dr. Moses winds up coming off like something was bound to set him off eventually. But then, the nearly off-handed presentation of the moment of truth that sets our man to action suggests that Dysart realizes this; as a result, the book becomes full of potential energy, as we wonder how this poor guy came to be. A creation of strife? Politics? Might his American upbringing figure in? Could violence possibly beget more violence? Signs (and conversations! and dreams!) point to yes on that last one!

It's OKAY as an introduction, full of little suggestions tucked away inside decent-enough thriller mechanics. Artist Alberto Ponticelli (with colorist Oscar Celestini) does a fair job of establishing settings and making the violence hurt, although I couldn't say much stands out. It's straightforward work for a straightforward setup, with the real interest coming from deft bits of writing like Moses' encounter with an American celebrity humanitarian, prone to couching Ugandan issues in US concerns.

Dysart's 'soldier' is from both places, as much as he considers humself "fully, wholly Ugandan," and how he'll act behind blurry lines of combat forms the most intriguing unknown among this comic's shadowy pasts and killer instincts; I hope this issue forms less a status quo than an action comic skeleton to support more confident inquiries, or maybe a set of bandages to be peeled off, so that we might see the face of the matter.

MIA, Post #1: Jeff Talks ASM #574 and Batman #680

Dude .

I'd like to say I've been off acting as an agent of chaos which is why I've been too busy to post, but the fact is I've been a victim of chaos: since SDCC, so many oddball opportunities and possible opportunities have come my way that I've been almost too busy to read comics, much less review them. All the while, possible epic posts keep taking up small bits of valuable space in my brain--I've got this idea for comparing/contrasting Bottomless Belly Button to Chiggers stemming from the way they both use sound effects--making me balk at just reviewing the damn things and getting some entries out in the world.

A real shame, because I think I'm more excited about online comics criticism than ever before: the recent Noah Berlatsky flap, the Tucker Stone interview, Abhay posting pretty much anything on the Internet, the guys at Mindless Ones, Funnybook Babylon, Jog as always...there's a bunch of truly interesting stuff out there and a number of comics reviewers who are producing the most consistently interesting criticism since the heyday of The Comics Journal. It's a great time to be reading, and it makes me all but itch with the desire to jump back in and be part of the dialogue.

But to do that, I'd have to read more books, and read them more closely than I should, and maybe read them in a more timely fashion, too. I mean, Bottomless Belly Button came out in, what? 1984? 1985?

Anyway, I started a mega-super post of stuff I've been reading, but Hibbs made a pretty good case (in his own special, quasi-socialized way) that it'd probably be better to chop that post up and get some kindling into this sputtering fire of a website than one big smothering lump of thick oak. If I work this right, I'll have an entry every day for the rest of this week...and some of the comics may even be from recent memory, to boot.

Behind the jump, my first two reviews, in alpha order:

AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #574: Does anyone remember that article Jan Strnad wrote for the Comics Journal, "My Brilliant Career at Marvel"? (Issue #75, according to Google.) In it, Strnad talks about the frustration of trying to craft a dramatic done-in-one for Daredevil (as I recall), where the big problem was...Daredevil. Every time Strnad brought in the guy in tights to whatever conflict he'd set up, it ended up seeming really, really dumb. Issue #574 is probably the first superhero comic I've read where I felt as Strnad must've: everything about this issue is pretty damn good, except the parts where Spider-Man appears, and then it's pretty damn stupid.

(Actually, that's not true. I love that cover, but then I've always had a weak spot for "omniscient giant-head Spidey.")

Honestly. Every time Spider-Man popped up (in isolated panels, as illustrations of where Flash Thompson finds his morale and courage during a firefight in Iraq), I cringed. Flash's story, while presented clumsily, is more than engaging enough on its own, but every few pages--to make sure the fans don't feel too rooked, I guess-we've got Spider-Man fighting the Kingpin or tackling the Sinister Six (OMG, just like the six guys pinning down Flash in a firefight!) and making the whole thing feel more cynical than it needs to.

I can see how you can make a case for it. As recounted on Stephen Wacker's editorial page, there are obviously guys fighting in our armed services who've been inspired by fictional creations like Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, George W. Bush, etc. But it's not quite as cut-and-dry as "I was in a killzone, and I wasn't afraid because Spider-Man once punched a fat, bald guy," and the inelegance of the presentation reinforces how jaded I feel about this whole enterprise. Because everyone involved at every level of this book undoubtedly believes they're providing a tribute to the hard-working men and women of the U.S. services, but this isn't a free issue--unless I missed some notice of donated profits, this issue is taking money from my pocket and putting it in the pockets of people at Marvel, just like every other issue. And every panel ol' web-head pops up in is a visual reminder of that.

If that doesn't come up for you, then you'll find this a pretty Good issue. It was better than any other "relevant" Spider-Man comic I've ever read, certainly. But next time, they should just leave Spidey on the cover, suck up any complaints from the fanboys, and let the story speak for itself.

BATMAN #680: 'Batman, R.I.P.' should really be the subject of one of some epic post from me, as my feelings about it are tremendously conflicted--it's the first thing I read on the weeks it's out, it's one of the few mainstream superhero books I'm at all current on, I think about it quasi-obsessively, and yet it feels like a perpetual disappointment. It reminds me, unfortunately, of my reactions to the first few times I saw pornography--how can I be so obsessed about something so appalling and kind of dull?

A clear sign I've all but checked out of the story was when I finished the end of this issue and then had to go on the Internet to see what happened. Yes, Jezebel Jet is clearly shown putting on black gloves; yes, there are those red and black falling petals; yes, there is the Joker's word balloon shouting (somewhat insultingly) "Now do you get it?" But, in fact, I didn't get it at all. Morrison isn't really insisting that I believe that Jezebel Jet--the dullest, dumbest and least convincing love interest ever set up for Batman--is actually The Black Glove, is he? I had to go online to see if that's what I was really supposed to believe. And until Batman #681 comes out, I guess it is.

Well, fair enough. If I'm being generous with Mr. Morrison (and like many comics reviewers on the Internet, I find it all but impossible *not* to be), my disappointment to this point with Batman R.I.P. may stem from poor Tony Daniels being so far in over his head, I can't think of him without imagining two cartoon feet waggling from a sump hole. Morrison is trying to tell a richly dark Batman tale and he gets a guy who fucks up the storytelling on a double-page spread and doesn't have time to correct it (I'm thinking here of the scene where Batman is crouching on the Arkham gate and the arc of the gate leads the eye to the next page, instead of to the panels below).

But when I'm not being generous, I remember that Arkham Asylum was a big, expensive bat-fart of a story that also failed to do the trick for me, and the artist on that was Dave McKean.

In fact, of all the major comic book writers, I'm hard-pressed to think of one that's had more consistent misfires with his artists than Morrison. He's done consistently great work with Quitely, Jones, Jimenez, arguably Mahnke--there was that Williams story on the first Black Glove story and in Seven Soldiers--and then after that, it seems the best you can hope for is competence. (Sorry, Richard Case and Doug Hazelwood.) At first, I thought this was just bad luck on Morrison's part, or perhaps a disinclination to personally woo top-drawer artists, but now I think it's a symptom of some essential dash-offedness to which Morrison subscribes (or succumbs).

That dash-offedness (and jesus, can't I come up with a better term than that?) is exactly one of the problems for me with Batman R.I.P. If Rucka had pulled a similar reversal with Sasha Bordeaux in his Detective Comics arc that Morrison does here with Jezebel Jet, for example, my heart would've been in my throat.

Maybe the end will be so utterly mind-blowing I'll change my mind about the whole thing, but I can't seem to get beyond OK, despite how obsessed I am with the whole mess.

[Oh, and in case you're interested: I believe it'll turn out to be Alfred as The Black Glove, but it'll be okay because he'll turn out to also be, much later down the road, the White Glove, and this whole thing is a complex shamanistic ritual of destruction and rebirth that only Alfred can administer because Batman's other attempts at purification (in 52 and in the drug trials that got him partially into this mess in the first place) have failed. But, if I'm right, it's gonna be a year down the road before we see any of that later stuff.]

Tomorrow: Brave & The Bold, Criminal, and Coraline.

 

Secret Invasion #7: Is There Anything to Talk About With This Issue? Abhay Flounders.

The choice seven months ago was either to do this essay series for SECRET INVASION or to do this essay series for FINAL CRISIS. With it becoming more apparent than ever that FINAL CRISIS has run off its rails or might not have been on rails to begin with, production-wise… I think it behooves me to begin this, the penultimate SECRET INVASION essay by respectfully acknowledging that I win again, suckers. Let’s just say that I picked the right series, and let’s just say that a lot of you comics bloggers didn’t, and let’s just say that means that I won at blogging about comics, everybody! I know those of you who aren’t sore losers will wave while the sun shines on me in victory lane— I might even wave back. In the meantime, let me assure you that victory tastes pretty sweet. Here’s a photo of some kung fu guy chopping some bricks with the side of his hand:

***

Here’s a summary of issues 1 through 6: what if a ship came to Earth with a bunch of 1970’s Marvel Characters on it? Answer: it doesn’t matter because they’d all be Skrulls, so we’d kill them. Nothing left to do for the remaining two issues of the series but to set up the next status quo in the Marvel Universe, CHOCOLATE RAIN.

What’s the over/under on CHOCOLATE RAIN? I think most people have been betting on “bad guys take over the Earth somehow or another,” but that doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t seem like a premise that can sustain itself for very long—or like a premise that will be easy to explain to audiences reading CAPTAIN AMERICA or DAREDEVIL in trades.

Let me just say this, though: I hope it involves superheroes growing goatees. Goatees, soul patches, maybe one or two porn-staches. I think it’d let people know that the CHOCOLATE RAIN Marvel Universe is a much more dangerous place. Because it’s been filled with awful hipsters. The new Black Panther is a self-facilitating media node; with breasts.

***

This last issue’s just going to be a big fight scene. We all know it-- nothing remotely interesting is going to happen. Maybe there will be some kind of interesting cliffhanger-- but experience with prior issues tells us there won’t be.

What the hell am I going to talk about?

***

A number of people are enjoying SECRET INVASION, and that’s great. Last time… you know, last time I might have gotten a little mean, and I don’t like that because my starting place for this series of essays was a very genuine affection for CIVIL WAR, for the recent Marvel crossovers, for old Marvel comics, and for the current crop of Marvel creators. I like the writer, artist and characters, but you know: everything isn’t for everybody.

So, let me try to be less snotty about it, and just say: look, it’s not what I wanted. We can all be angry people and throw around hurtful words like “mediocre” or “horrible” or “terrible” or “padded” or ‘slow” or “snail-paced” or “perfunctory” or “generic” or “unoriginal” or “vapid” or “empty” or “boring” or “dreary” or “unimaginative” or “shallow”. Where does that get us? SECRET INVASION, it’s just not what I wanted; that’s all. Someone else, it’s what they wanted, and good for them. And sure, we can throw around words like “bad” or “uninspired” or “uninteresting” or “un-good” or “stinky” or “dregs” or “dispiriting” or “illogical” or “malignant” or “poo” or “doo-doo” or “ugh” or “blech” or “yuck” or “nauseating” or “brain-dead” or “witless” or “deficient” or “laughable” or “undercooked” or “half-baked” or “pointless” or “aloha” or “swill” or “pablum” or “crappy” or “shitty” or “shit-for-brains” or “shit-from-an-ass” or “fart-faced” or “rotten” or “decrepit” or “thesaurus.” But-- what’s, that’s not, you know-- instead, let’s, uh... let’s not.

SECRET INVASION’s been sort of a bizarro version of CIVIL WAR, a series which I’d enjoyed. Oh, they have the same main character, Iron Man. Iron Man revealing the Skrull corpse launched the series; the Savage Land stretch turned on Iron Man; Iron Man reuniting the Avengers was the climax of the series to date. But beyond that:

CIVIL WAR was thematically about the Organization triumphing over the individual; SECRET INVASION tried to be about the triumphant Organization succumbing to corruption (uh, like, for one issue before focusing on external threats instead of true corruption). Bizarro. CIVIL WAR ends with Iron Man’s benevolent facism taking charge of the Marvel universe; SECRET INVASION unleashes the CHOCOLATE RAIN, if the promo materials are to be believed. Bizarro. The climax of CIVIL WAR is the Marvel Universe fracturing; the climax of SECRET INVASION is the Marvel Universe uniting. Bizarro. CIVIL WAR’s spin-offs explored different avenues that there wasn’t room to cover in the main series; SECRET INVASION’s spin-offs have been mostly pointless— my favorite are the ones where they go “Guess what the Skrulls were doing during the House of M? Nothing much. Just chilling.” Bizarro. CIVIL WAR didn’t rely on negativity towards foreign people who have a different color skin and a weird religion; SECRET INVASIONBizarro.

With CIVIL WAR, the fun part of that series for me was that it was fundamentally about the Marvel characters making decisions. Instead of something just happening onto them, and them just lying there, like a cold fish, staring at the ceiling, half-heartedly trying to hold back a yawn, waiting out the twenty/thirty seconds it usually takes for me to be finished, politely ignoring my trembling and crying... Wait, what were we talking about again?

CIVIL WAR was 100% decisions. Iron Man decides this, Captain America decides that, Spiderman decides to take off his mask, Reed Richards decides to build a Clor. But with this series, they’ve totally abandoned that. None of the characters have made decisions. We know as much about every single character in this series as we did when we started because there’s been nothing at stake for any of them dramatically. The invasion’s just something that happened to them, like a car accident.

The only exception right now, that I can think of at least, is the Maria Hill jetpack scene-- still, in my opinion, the best scene in this series. But, shit, when Maria Hill’s the best thing about your Marvel crossover… you know you’re a redneck?

Git ‘er done, Issue 7! ************************************************ ************************************************ ************************************************

So…

This issue was certainly published. On paper. Big long fight; nobody that isn’t a Skrull dies. That's... nice...?

Lots to talk about with this issue. Just lots and lots. Lots and lots and lots. Any moment now, I’m going to figure out just so many things to say about this comic. Watch out for that.

...

[Ed. Note: Two days pass, in awkward silence…]

...

[Ed. Note: Sweat coming out of pores.]

...

[Ed. Note: It’s 3:00 a.m. I just want to go to sleep.]

Uhm: The Watcher shows up—and he’s wearing eyeshadow…? That’s sort of interesting; Jack Kirby characters in lady’s make-up.

Why doesn’t that happen more often? Nothing else they’ve ever done with the Fourth World characters has ever worked; why not turn the NEW GODS into a burlesque revue? It can’t get any worse for those characters.

I like the Watcher; I like him in comics; I like when he shows up on that mediocre TV show FRINGE; I’m pro-Watcher. For me, “It Started on Yancy Street” (FF #29) is as good an issue of the Lee-Kirby FANTASTIC FOUR as you could ask for.

It has that wonderful snowball quality where the adventure starts small and gets grander and grander as it contorts itself: it starts with someone throwing a head of lettuce at the FF, and ends on the moon, with plenty of stops along the way. I sometimes wonder if that's something the screenwriters or the manga-raised mainstream artists even know how to do anymore, if it isn't just something that's been lost.

***

It’s not that the fight scene offers no pleasure. I happen to like action comics. But not like this, not like this: It’s the Lord of the Rings idea of “action”. In those horrible, horrible Lord of the Rings movies, they’d just locked some nerd in a basement with a Macintosh and told him to generate 5 million Skeksis and Gelflings on top of each other. And then they’d just put that on screen for 4 hours at a time. That’s not action; that’s just a nerd with a Macintosh.

Part of my problem might just be as simple as I don’t usually enjoy an epic battle scene. There are obvious exceptions: SHAKA ZULU, say, or the Naval battle from BEN HUR. But I don’t sit around thinking fondly of BRAVEHEART, say; I never saw ALEXANDER or KINGDOM OF HEAVEN or the ALAMO. I didn’t make it a half-hour into TROY, though the parts I saw were very, very funny.

That having been said, here are 7 things that I typically like and look for in a superhero action scene-- with examples that... aren't the greatest action scenes I've ever seen, but just the ones that occurred to me, that had been memorable to me for some reason or another:

1. A Sense of Geography

Here’s a page from my favorite action comic when I was a kid, the San Francisco X-men vs. Marauder fight in the UNCANNY X-MEN #222. In this page, Wolverine’s healing factor is on the fritz, so in order to avoid getting shot to death—he risks falling to his death by jumping off a bridge. I like how this page is all about where the three different characters are in relationship to the bridge. You can map it in your head; you can imagine it happening that much easier.

SECRET INVASION #7, on the other hand: the characters don’t interact with their environment. Are the Skrulls to the North or the South? Are they trying to get somewhere strategically important, and the superheroes are trying to stop them from getting there? Or visa versa? 2. Bad Guys

These are two different pages combined, but: this sort of dopey villain named Roxxas versus the LSH from V4, Issue #10. Not a well-dressed villain or a very cool villain but-- this one bad guy systematically dismantles an entire team of superheroes over the course of an issue, and for me, it was memorable. It's better when the villains are the equal if not obvious superior to the good guys. If they have their own powers and abilities-- I'd like to see them being used against the good guy's powers. Or at least let them do something.

Another area where the X-MEN scene above succeeds, that fight with the Marauders: the Marauders end up looking like the cooler team. As a kid, I wanted to read the Marauders’s book instead by the time that fight was over. Every issue of X-MEN that didn’t feature them was a disappointment.

SECRET INVASION, on the other hand, suffers from the same problem as the MATRIX sequels. In the first MATRIX, everyone ran from the Agents; in the sequels, doughy, off-his-diet Larry Fishburne was destroying them left and right. Similarly here, early in the Invasion, one or two of the Skrulls were a serious problem for the heroes.

This issue, none of the Skrulls manage to make any impression at all despite being able to simulate all sorts of powers. Why? What changed? There’s no reason why the Skrulls shouldn’t overwhelmingly win this fight, but for no noticeable reason, that’s not the case.

There’s a scene suggesting that Marvel Boy somehow has come down and changed the tide of the battle, but they only show the part where he comes down and not him doing anything ... anything.

I'm willing to accept that Howard the Duck can kill a Skrull, though.

3. Superpowers.

From AVENGERS ANNUAL #16: the Avengers versus the Legion of Unliving; an undead Hyperion flies into Wonder Man, drives him through a planet, out the other end, and into a sun, killing them both.

Fights between superheros should be cool because you get to see them use their super-powers. That's sort of the whole point of the exercise, no?

SECRET INVASION has Mr. Fantastic stretch a little. The Hank Pym Skrull grows once. And… that’s about it.

Iron Fist doesn’t even use his fist-y power. 4. Clear Goals

Over the summer, I tried revisiting the DC Silver Age— most of it wasn’t very good; Marvel had the better Silver Age. This is from one of the big exceptions to that, though. While I prefer Nick Cardy to Neal Adams, I particularly enjoyed this sequence from Neal Adams and Dennis O'Neil’s BATMAN #243. I like how it’s thought out; they don’t just rely on Batman magically appearing somewhere. They let you go on the adventure with him back then, instead of holding him at arm’s length. And the goal is so simple: Batman needs to infiltrate the enemy stronghold without alerting the guards. Clean simple goal.

Are there any goals in this SECRET INVASION fight other than genocide? Well, unfortunately--

If prior experience guides us-- I think they want to rip her bra! Oh noes! (Did I get that joke right? I didn't pay much attention to the whole Tigra thing since it was so stupid but... should it have been rip her blouse? Eh...)

The entire issue revolves around all of the Marvel superheroes uniting to kill a lady (?), but in order to accomplish what exactly? Keep in mind, while all this is going on, that there are spaceships hovering over New York. That could, you know—drop BOMBS theoretically, if the Skrulls changed their mind abot being evil socialists who want to bring evil-ass socialism to the United States, or whatever...

5. Clear Obstacles

The best action in a superhero comic this year is THE BOYS #21, the Bridge issue. I don’t think I should quote a page since many people might be reading it in trades still, but what makes it such an enormously satisfying action sequence is it’s all about superheros struggling with an increasingly problematic set of obstacles. And how the superheroes use their powers to deal with those obstacles, and what that means is all rooted in and reveals character. If I quoted something, it’d be the page in which the word balloon “Don’t Let Her Go” appears.

With SECRET INVASION #7, the only obstacle is presented by the Hank Pym Skrull, whose eyeball mysteriously explodes for … no apparent reason. They hint that Bullseye might be trying to work at cross-purposes with the other Earth combatants but don’t meaningfully play that out in any way.

6. Cinematic Progression or Escalation

This is on the line of being a superhero comic and being something else, but I love me some Nth MAN THE ULTIMATE NINJA. Larry Hama and Ron Wagner tried to create their own version of AKIRA in 1989; Marvel pulled the plug on it after 16 issues, forcing the creators to jam the final act of the series into a jumbled, nonsensical three issue finale. But issue #3 has this sequence which is a particular favorite. Comics aren’t cinema, but a little bit of cinema to an action scene is appreciated.

There’s one sequence which works in this way in issue #7-- the Hawkeye sequence. I can’t say I have a problem with any of that; I thought that was well handled. But the rest— I just felt like it was at one volume the entire time. I think they were plainly trying to convey a jumbled, chaotic battle, a "donneybrook" and that's a valid choice —- but for me, movement, physical movement, is a big part of why I enjoy action scenes. 7. The Real World Factor

Here’s the first page of an extended sequence from Brian Michael Bendis and Mike Oeming’s POWERS, issue #18. Zora and some villain are having a fight; Walker and Deena chase after them in a car and watch the superhero fight through their car windshield. The fight escalates from a distance, as a passing news helicopter gets involved to disastrous consequences. I like that it presents superhero violence in a logical way from a human point of view. I like that it asks "What would it really be like?", and provides an original answer.

Another example might be this stretch of panels from ASTRO CITY Volume #1, Issue #4: it’s a superhero fight from the perspective of people in a stairwell, rushing out of a nearby building.

You can see a building in the distance in SECRET INVASION #7 occasionally. That’s as close to the world as the fight ever gets.

***

We should close this one out classy for a change by raising up a glass for Brian Michael Bendis, Leinil Yu, Mark Morales and co. for getting this out in a timely fashion, at least. While FINAL CRISIS struggles to get out, the Marvel team’s put out 7 timely issues, and this one – it doesn’t look shabby. With all the talk about FINAL CRISIS this week, and some of the anger about that that’s out there (thankfully and deservedly, most of it directed at DC and it editors, and not entirely at J.G. Jones, whose apology was admirable/kind-of-sad)… I thought it’d have been nice to pause and acknowledge the hard work of the SECRET INVASION team to get this thing out on time.

So... yay them? After all of this bitching? Really? I'm going to try to pull that off? That-- yeah: oh man, that was a disaster. That didn't work at all. I don't think my attempt at sincerity there was well timed, no. Sort of like a story about Santa drunkenly finger-banging one of his reindeers, let's say Blitzen. It tugs on your heartstrings a little because it reminds you of Christmas and Santa and finger-banging, all good things on their own, but put them altogether, during the holiday season, at Sunday School, and suddenly, you're in a room full of crying children. So... SECRET INVASION #7 is a lot like that.

FinalSecretCrisisionMachineGo!

Two Big Events, done COMPLETELY differently.

This may or may not be a fair comparison between the two, as neither are finished: SECRET INVASION still has 13% left, while FINAL CRISIS has 43% remaining, but I sorta feel like I've seen enough to be at least in the general neighborhood of "fair"

What's interesting to me, from the top, is that these two series are really opposite as can be: SECRET INVASION seemingly takes place in a day (or two) of the Marvel Universe, ties into each and every book (with a small handful of exceptions), while at the same time not really conveying much information in most of those tie-ins, and doesn't really appear to have any higher theme than "punchfighthit!"

FINAL CRISIS takes place over what has to be weeks (if not months) of the DCU, while at the same time barely tying into the regular production of DC whatsoever. The ties ins that exists, however, seem to largely be crucial ones. And of course, it is rich with theme.

Both works are also the culmination of years of build-up from one of the "primary architects" of the respective universes -- Brian Michael Bendis, and Grant Morrison.

*****

SECRET INVASION purports to be huge in scope -- after all, there's only as few books that don't have direct tie-ins -- but the actual core event/series appears to be really very very small, and absolutely misnamed. The invasion comes, heroes fight in the Savage Land, and in New York, the end.

There's been seven issues of punching and hitting and fighting now, and virtually nothing has happened. Further, said invasion is just about the opposite of "secret" -- loud flashy spaceships filled with colorful and obvious warriors arrive, but there's very little stealth or infiltration going on once the series begins. In fact, some of the infiltration that occurred is confusing to me: so they swapped out Hank Pym and Jarvis, but there's not a lot that they appear to be actually DOING once the series gets going.

While this may have made the heroes off-kilter a tiny bit, it's not how *I* would have run an invasion. Yes, by all means, replace some of the heroes, but where's the real world in all of this? Shouldn't you be replacing heads of state, community leaders, media conglomerates, all of that? Wouldn't that have the greater long-term impact? Rather than living up to the title, which could have been fascinating in an "Invaders" (TV)/"V" kind of way, and pointed to some interesting long-term consequences, it all seems to hinge on 'splody fight scenes.

In fact, at this stage in the proceedings, I'm not sure how the (clever!) "Embrace Change" ads can possibly play out at the end of this -- if you're trying to win Hearts and Minds, you don't visibly blow the shit out of everything. Sure this may be commentary on the execution of the War on Terror, but for an ancient, spacefaring race with the resources to blanket the entire planet, it just seems like the wrong way to go -- and most importantly, it appears to me to be this way in order to give the comics readership their quota of 'splody.

There have been a LOT of tie ins to this -- most of which worked pretty poorly, but there's been a few I've loved. Despite the fact that the Avengers comics haven't actually, y'know, featured the Avengers for six+ months now, I've found the "backstory" issues of MIGHTY and NEW AVENGERS to have been really good. The only minor problem is that they're mostly looking back, instead of looking at the present. But that's where the "secret" part of the Invasion happened.

At the end of the day, it looks like Luke & Jessica's baby will be the Deus Ex Machina that puts the toys back in the box, plotwise, possibly with some sort of "No More Skrulls!" twist. One does not get the sense that there will be any significant Skrull presence in the world (or at least America) at the end of this -- the Skrulls haven't (seemingly) seized anything of particular value, so getting rid of them would seem to be (in comic book terms, at least) a fairly easy process.

One small note on this week's salvo: the latest issue of THUNDERBOLTS expands on the brief Norman Osborn scenes in issue #7 of SI, and does it in a much more focused and compelling manner. In fact, I'd maybe call TBOLTS #125 as SI #7.5, in terms of "importance to the Marvel U" (if what we're thinking "Dark Reign" means is actually what it is)

I like Bendis' writing, but after the second of these, I really don't think he's got the "right" chops for writing Big Superhero Epics. He's got a great ear for dialogue, and a clever mind for twisting expectations and plot points, but he's mediocre at best on action, and pacing a "big" hero story. In a way, it's like if, say, Quentin Tarintino directed a STAR WARS movie -- there'd be moments of sheer brilliance, I'm sure, and some cracklin' dialogue, but tonally, the pieces wouldn't match up to what the audience really wants.

Overall, I'd give SECRET INVASION (the series) at the 7/8ths mark an EH; I'd give the MIGHTY and NEW AVENGERS tie-ins at least a GOOD, and I'd be positive (in general) about the setting up of the NEXT new status quo for the Marvel Universe (though, again, I think the Skrulls are, at best, a blind for that new state)

The last thing I'll say is that it does look like Bendis "played fair" in his multi-year build-up towards this.

*****

FINAL CRISIS is a trickier thing to discuss rationally, one that has AT LEAST AS MUCH to do with how DC Editorial was spinning the build up to it as the comic itself.

Clearly FC is "bigger", more "epic", and possibly even more relevant to the DC Universe than SI is to the Marvel U, but DC Editorial has COMPLETELY screwed the pooch on this one. Not JUST from a wrong/inappropriate build-up via COUNTDOWN (as well as AMAZONS ATTACK/SALVATION RUN/Whatever that they insisted were relevant and important), but also from scheduling stories like BATMAN RIP and SUPERMAN NEW KRYPTON and the build up to DARKEST NIGHT in and around FC.

This makes FC feel "weightless" and irrelevant to the DC Universe itself, when it SHOULD be the spine and centerpiece of that fictional world.

Let me tell you a little story about my audience: I was, for the LONGEST time there, the prototypical "DC store" -- DC comics ALWAYS sold better than Marvels for us. This has ABSOLUTELY changed in the wake of "One Year Later" and COUNTDOWN. New DC series are largely non-starters for us, with anything that isn't "A-List" having the lowest rack sales I've ever seen, including my first month of business 19 years ago! Things like RANN/THANAGAR WAR or DC DECISIONS are having rack sales of ONE OR TWO copies for us. I could stop racking 80% of the DC line today, and I don't think it would have a significant negative impact on my sales. That's really painfully ugly. If it weren't for Morrison and Geoff Johns, DC would have nothing at this stage. That makes me deeply sad.

Nor do I have any great sense that things are going to turn around. When I read the DC house organ page a few weeks back where Didio was trying to get excited about post-FC, one of the bullet points was something like "What will happen to Black Lightning's Daughters?!?!"

...

Really?

Now, on one hand, it's not even SLIGHTLY FAIR to judge FC upon Didio and co's mistakes, but the strength of a fictional universe is on how all of the moving parts move and mesh together, and by how believable the "sales pitch" is. If you're trying to get people excited about a b-list character's family (which didn't even EXIST like five years ago?), then you've got nothing in your hand.

This can't HELP but play into reaction to FC. Since FC doesn't actually seem like it's taking place IN the "DCU" (it could be on Earth 59, for all the impact it seems to be having within/around the "mainline" books), it loses buckets of its impact. This wouldn't be SO horrible if the machine was running correctly, but with FC catastrophically off-schedule (and finishing with a different artistic team than the start), it just heightens the sense of distance.

Unlike SECRET INVASION, FC is tight and focused -- it's a quarter or less of the number of books feeding into it? That's a plus in a way -- how many times has the readership complained about having to buy "too much" stuff? -- but it feels distant and walled off to me.

The latest issue (#4) takes a jump of a few weeks. How many? Well, at least enough time to have new factories, to change all of the billboards in the nation, and the theater marquees. That would seem (to me) to be a significant amount of time, possibly months. That feels more like a (secret) invasion to me, at least.

A "ragtag bunch of freedom fighters" is left, though the choices aren't (to me) all that plausible -- Wonder Woman and Batman have fallen, but Black Canary and Green Arrow avoided it? Babs Gordon "turned off the internet", without having been converted by it? How does any of that work?

Relax, turn off your mind, and float upstream, I guess?

Still, I like what Morrison's doing here, and my customers seem to as well, FC #2&3 sold better than SI #2&3 (SI #1 kicked FC #1's ass, however) -- but person after person is saying "how does this tie into [insert storyline]?!?!" So it might be, for us, that my customer's haven't abandoned the DCU as much as the DCU abandoned THEM.

I'd give FC, to this point, a very high OK (maybe even a low GOOD), but there's no sense anywhere from anyone that the DCU is heading anywhere in particular in the post-FC game. That's going to be a major problem -- I don't for foresee a good 2009 for the DCU.

****

As always, what do YOU think?

-B

Hooray for Cheer: Jog on a non-beginning from 10/8

Crossed #1 (of 9)

I wish I was 12 again so I could beg my beloved great aunt to buy me this comic solely on the basis of its cover. She'd go "oooh, that's a scary one," and purchase the hell out of it, because that's just how we rolled in that wing of my semi-immediate family. One of the first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comics she bought me was the start of the Michael Zulli run, where Splinter is puking up mystic rock totems and having a psychic war with Shredder while the Turtles -- snarling, indistinguishable monsters all -- literally rip Foot ninjas to pieces left and right. Sure beat Saturday morning.

But I am older now, and I have my own money to spend however I see fit. Careful, mature considerations go into my every purchase, subtle tumblings of value that led me, perhaps inevitably, to a different economic decision, befitting an adult of my age and social position:

It looks like a boy being thrown out the door at first, but then you can open the comic and see all the things happening on the rest of the airplane! Note the young child being hanged from an oxygen mask cord way in the back; it's the little details that win my variant cover dollars, provided nobody's doing anything silly like charging extra money. I'll settle for the axe under those circumstances.

Anyway, this is the start of the new Garth Ennis/Jacen Burrows series from Avatar, in case the covers weren't clear enough on that. One thing might be tricky, though - despite that issue #1 marking, the true beginning of the story actually showed up in a shorter and less expensive issue #0 from a while back, as is Avatar's current practice.

That actually led to a decent little visual trick: the colorist for issue #0 -- depicting the start of a mysterious, zombie-like onslaught of smirking living people with cross-shaped scars on their faces, relieved of any sense of morality or restraint -- was Avatar mainstay Greg Waller, who depicted everything in his characteristically shiny manner, with the gore in particular taking on a too-bold H.G. Lewis sort of Grand Guignol texture. In contrast, issue #1 is colored by 'Juanmar,' who (which?) takes a much dimmer approach, rendering all the world as in perpetual sundown and all the blood as mucky and browner; even the flashback bits are faded, like issue #0 and Waller got to be the shock of the new, and all the rest of color could do was respond.

I don't know if that was planned, but it's there, you know?

Unfortunately, there's not a lot else of interest going on in this comic. I do think Burrows is good for the material; he has this uninhibited passion for the grotesque that he matches with a cartoon-clinical visual approach in a manner that borders on droll. It's fitting for a comic about lots of people going nuts in a world that still sort of has the facade of ours, and Ennis tosses in a recurring motif of people staring at things from a distance for that extra touch of detachment.

It also means, however, that the comic isn't much for immediate shocks; a bit with a scary woman popping up on one side of a fence is about as dispassionate as I can imagine (granted, Ennis doesn't help by having the character spout some dialogue before going "WAAAAHH!!"). Burrows also lacks distinction in his character designs - the main characters are fine, but the various grinning hordes have a way of looking less like people with similar facial expressions than people with similar faces, if you catch my drift.

Still, what's really indistinct right now is Ennis' plot, which is almost entirely a by-the-numbers survival horror-styled zombie(ish) thing, relayed to us via many narrative captions by an observant good-man-hanging-on sort of writer character. It's middling setup stuff (there's no medical services! life is hard! unafflicted survivors must band together, personality clashes be damned!) spiked only by the writer's total disdain for frilly mysticism and nerd naiveté; when a huffing fantasy gamer pops up ("Dungeons and Dragons, do you even know what you're talking about? It was Magic the --") the page all but drips with contempt, and the story goes on to show what awful things happen to such losers and all the doomed fucks that rely on his bullshit in a hard, dark world.

It's a particularly nasty gore scene that takes that one, a double-page spread given Burrows' full, chilled attention. I notice that the book takes some pains to avoid depicting genitals or sexual penetration, this in spite of panels like that of an infected woman being squished under a truck's tires, guts spilling out as she screams "JESUS I'M FUCKIN COMIN" from a mouth pouring blood. Funny that you can see the invisible threshold beyond which the book would maybe have to go in a plastic bag or get racked way beyond where my great aunt would have ever bought it for me, external signals meaning everything.

EH right now, though all the cross images (and, er, the title) suggests that Ennis may be gearing up for another look at the old religion; I don't know if that'll be any more intriguing, but it'll at least add another element on top of literalizing the bottomless hunger within that's plain from most any surface look at the zombie subgenre, to say nothing of the foibles of packed-in survivors.

Abhay Atones For His Sins by Reviewing The Alcoholic

THE ALCOHOLIC by Jonathan Ames and Dean Haspiel; Published by DC-Vertigo, $19.99. I.

I’d like to talk about the book design, for a moment. We’re a couple years after the point where smart, contemporary design is still surprising, but—but, still, great googly-moogly, the book design for THE ALCOHOLIC is glossy.

Sepia-tinted author photos. A liberal use of Futura. The pages of the comic are book-ended by dark brown paper of a heavier stock. Taking off the slipcase reveals a carving of a bottle, with the book’s title for the bottle’s label. Every other odd page combines into a map to Bluebeard’s Treasure. Bluebeard’s Treasure is friendship.

And the pull-quotes: a couple are from fanboy-world luminaries like Brian Vaughan and Neil Gaiman, but there’s also Sarah Silverman, Anthony Swofford, Bret Easton Ellis, John Hodgman, Kirkus Reviews, Jerry Stahl, Thomas Beller. Readers, be assured: whoever wrote this book is friends with celebrities! What could a more important thing in America to know than that?

And the back cover text: THE ALCOHOLIC is hilarious yet heartbreaking. Dean Haspiel’s art is gritty yet poignant. My balls are wrinkly yet succulent.

So: so, shit in my shoes, if this isn’t the damn hippest-looking comic. In April of this year, Vertigo announced its intentions to significantly increase its focus on original graphic novels. THE ALCOHOLIC’s book design, for me, is a little window into the future, or a possible future at least. A name author from the world of books; a slick modern design; celebrity endorsements assuring the reader that the author is socially well-connected; stylish fonts; back cover text promising poignance. Poignance!

I was looking forward to and ultimately bought THE ALCOHOLIC because I'd heard of Ames, because I’d heard of his last novel, Wake Up Sir. I knew that it had been well received. But… well received by who? I’m not really sure. By the World of Books. I don’t know who that is, though; I’m not exactly in Michiko Kakutani’s rolodex. There’s a very strange argument that sprung up on the comics part of the internet in the last couple of days (that I don’t particularly understand to be honest) about avoiding nameless, faceless “mediocre” comics. But: very little seems to have been said as to how one goes about doing that exactly. How do you know what to buy? At $10-20 a trade, what’s a safe bet? Who can you trust? How much will packaging and popularity and buzz from unknown people matter? Risks abound in the future.

I took comfort in the “SUGGESTED FOR MATURE READERS” hiding in the small print on the book’s back corner. It’s comforting to know that comics have a past, and the past left fingerprints. I especially like how it satisfies only the letter of some vestigial corporate policy, but not in any way, that policy’s spirit.

II.

I guess point #2 should be that the book itself is decent. I think it’s alright.

In its particular way, at least. Of the book’s 136 pages, about 125 pages feature Ames’s first person narration in caption boxes, multiple caption boxes that dominate page after page. Of those remaining 11 pages, 3 feature the narrator addressing the reader directly in expository monologues overstuffing word balloons, instead.

It’s an illustrated personal essay with a comic book in the margins. If your dream comic can be understood without ever looking at the words, look elsewhere. Ames’s story isn’t particularly surprising or unique; some might find the book “boring” as a result, that dull, perennial insult for memoir comics (or pseudo-memoirs). But I found the book enjoyable enough for other reasons—- the details Ames selected, the timing of events, the choice of digressions, the book’s particular sense of humor, the clever framing sequence. If it’s an essay, I thought it was an okay essay.

Dean Haspiel’s contribution in making this essay work visually can’t be understated, though. The book whiplashes between comedy and drama; the main character goes from pathetic to sympathetic to loathsome in the space of panels—- without Haspiel being able to handle that variety, and provide some visual moments of interest along the way, it’s hard to imagine THE ALCOHOLIC having worked as a comic. I’d use the phrase “steady hand on the tiller” here but I don’t have a fucking clue what a tiller is. Maybe I don’t want a steady hand on a tiller; maybe, I want a hand that caresses the tiller gently, bringing it gradually but sensually to climax. I don’t really know, my friends.

Also: I don’t know how to describe Haspiel’s style here. This isn’t the unrestrained Haspiel of the BILLY DOGMA comics; any of DOGMA’s enthusiasm for Kirby, bold shapes, immediacy—none of that is particularly noticeable in THE ALCOHOLIC (nor does it seem to have been requested, I suppose). I suppose the emphasis here is more for clarity, for an easy transition for the audience from Ames’s novels to comics. More visually inclined readers are urged to consider FEAR, MY DEAR instead.

With Haspiel, I think again we see a little hint of the future. Haspiel working with Mr. Ames, Jim Rugg working with Ms. Castellucci, Farel Dalrymple working with Mr. Lethem; at some point, the reward for cartoonists who successfully create a particular kind of independent comic became a gig chaperoning World of Books writers on comic book holiday. I guess I think that’s probably more of a good thing than a bad thing. As rewards go, this seems like a good one. But I guess what I find interesting is… when I grew up, comic book artists were the super-stars of comics. And writers were just… well, you know, writers.

With THE ALCOHOLIC, consider again the evidence presented by the book design.

suckithaspielfv8 The back cover’s only reference to Haspiel is in a smaller font, in a subordinate clause. Look at that! What is that??

It’s not for lack of space. No: he’s just the artist.

III.

THE ALCOHOLIC is a portrait of a man who has a substance abuse problem and his struggles with addiction, from his teen years to the days after 9/11. The narrator is sort-of obnoxiously named Jonathan A., I guess to titillate stupid people that some unknowable portion of the book is based upon the real life of Mr. Ames. Why would anyone fucking care? But after all, I suppose we live in an age of completely fictional autobiographies; tawdry voyeurism became worthwhile to authors and important to reading audiences-- oh, well.

There’s not much of a shape to it. Are addiction memoirs generally known for their dramatic tension? Initially, the book adopts a framing sequence involving lengthy flashbacks, but it abandons that structure mid-way through, though “Jonathan A.” continues to incessantly narrate even past that point. But maybe substance abuse is enough of a shape; with substance abuse comes depravity, sex, sexual dysfunction, horny senior citizens, death, fist fights, vomit, puke, barf, shit, orgies, and chase sequences. Everything a good comic book needs.

The 9/11 portion was my least favorite part of the book. I think it’s supposed to reflect his shame over the petty grief that had driven him to drink in comparison to this greater horror; to humbly acknowledge the inconsequential nature of whether he drinks or doesn’t; or to add to the feeling of the last third of the book of things spiraling out of control both internally and externally.

But: I think there’s an inherent danger with fiction and 9/11 of ... clichés not only become offensive because they’re clichés, but because they become... I don’t know, like, offensive because it’s grief porn? Jonathan A. spends the day with a young woman who has just lost her husband in the attack-- she maybe has three or four lines in the book total, none memorable. Because who she is doesn’t matter; all the book seems to say is “I was reminded what really matters through her! I was there for her! I was the witness of her grief! I learned from her grief! I failed to learn from her grief! Me Me Me.” I think there’s a desperation to remember that day as the day Americans “came together”, and I wonder if that isn’t its own way to avoid experiencing grief or fear, to make it still about us, endlessly us.

To some limited extent, this is all to the book’s benefit, as the portrait the book paints of the main character is ultimately of a selfish and self-obsessed man-child. But... I guess it just makes me uncomfortable seeing it as a thing being used clumsily, even if that clumsiness can be justified or explained, regardless of reason or context.

It’s funny, though: while I was reading Ames’s depiction of 9/11, all I was thinking about was a different disaster. Like the good Mr. Hibbs, like many people in this country probably, I’ve been obsessing over financial news lately that I don’t half understand. It’s a lot of Bloomberg.Com. It’s a lot of “What does Nouriel Roubini have to say about that?” It’s a lot of Roubini and Mish’s Global Economic Trends and Federal Reserve conspiracy theories. It’s a lot of naked Tai Chi in front of an open window, to cheer up the poor people huddled outside. It’s a lot of writing and drawing Care Bear pornography-- you know, Care Bears spraying one another with those rainbows that come out of their bellies, giggling. Care Bear Belly-Rainbow Bukkake? You know, for kids. caringsharinggl1

Time spent thinking about our economy, thinking about America, asking the big questions like “Is our way of life sustainable? Can you put off paying the piper indefinitely? What is it like when a country addicted to cheap oil and easy credit has to detox? Did any of those Care Bears have drawings of erect wangs on their bellies?” And here, we have THE ALCOHOLIC, a book very much about someone living a lifestyle that’s unsustainable, that won’t work out so hot in the long term, that probably won’t end well. It felt, I don’t know, timely.

I think one of the reasons I like the book was how Jonathan A. got more and more pathetic as he got older. Too Much is a pretty great strategy when you’re younger, but by the end, A.’s got a lousy haircut, wearing an ugly suit, he’s barely wiser, he’s all alone, and he’s as much a danger & pathetic disappointment to himself and others as ever, if not more so. I’m pretty fatalistic when I read the news, and my guess for the last, well, couple decades is things in this country are about to get really fantastically worse; so, I guess that ending struck a chord with me in more ways than one. We're all going to end up in shambles, huh? See you in the shambles! We'll share some toast.

IV.

But: the future, huh? Vertigo not just getting an author from ye' old World of Books, but releasing a book in the hot genre du jour: the fake addiction memoir.

If the future is books aimed equally for bookstores, who are the people in bookstores, what values do they have, what kinds of books will people create for them, and how will we know which to buy? Oprah? Will Oprah get involved? Nicholas Sparks?

I’m confused as to how I feel about that entire genre of the addiction memoir, especially; it’s not a genre I’ve ever sought out before in a book. There’s something troubling about the genre but I don’t feel qualified to say what that is since I’m, you know, I’m not educated enough about the program or the twelve steps or any of it; I have concerns whether writing a book like THE ALCOHOLIC is a healthy or recommendable thing to do for someone struggling with that disease since there’s an inherent element of romanticizing the substance abuse portion that struck me as, I don’t know, risky. But I don’t know what the experts say on that topic. I guess I could say: if he’s subverting the genre in some way, I’m not well read in the genre enough to notice how; I couldn’t say how or if this addiction memoir is particularly noteworthy as compared to any of the many, many others. Do they all have wise old recovering addicts that are roommates in rehab? Or foxy lady rehab employees that the main character wants but ultimately can’t have? Because in my head, I guess I imagine they all might.

I guess the genre makes me especially queasy because – what do readers want out of this genre exactly? I don’t typically spend time in my daily life rooting for an addict to fall off the wagon, but if I’m reading an addiction memoir? Look, if I’m reading an addiction memoir, I know that if the addict falls off the wagon, then the Crazy Drug Madness Haha time can resume and I will benefit from that as a reader.

I rooted for Bubbles to stay off the heroin on The Wire, as much as I ever rooted for anything on a TV show to happen. But… you know: this book? There’s 30-ish pages where the main character stopped drinking and the story got boring, and to be honest, I started thinking how nice it’d be for that boring Jonathan A. boy to start drinking again.

That made me feel a little weird and more than a little fucking dirty.

And it took bathing in a lot of Care Bear rainbow ejaculate to feel clean again.

I've Changed My Mind, I Take It Back: Diana Looks At Some Not-So-Fresh Starts, 1/10

So... does anyone remember Ye Olde Days when Issue #1 meant a start, rather than a restart? Yeah, me neither. TERROR TITANS #1: As is usually the way with DCU titles, I have absolutely no idea what's going on here, so strictly in terms of the grade I'll go with NO RATING. What I can tell, based on the content, is that we're looking at more evidence of Embiggened Bloodening - teenage superheroes are abducted by teenage supervillains (who seem to be descendants of previous villains, which I'll admit is a nice twist on the original Titans), drugged and thrown into an arena where they fight to the death. Why? Damned if I know, though it's connected to FINAL CRISIS (I know, what a shock, right?). But more to the point, the thing that really got me about this issue is something I've seen pop up more and more often in DC books: the sense of brutality for its own sake. TERROR TITANS #1 isn't as bloody as, say, a Geoff Johns comic, but it's not much fun to read either. And what's more, it feels tacked-on somehow, like there's a sign over Dan DiDio's office door that says "Your Body Count Must Be This High To Write This Comic."

TOP 10: SEASON TWO #1: Okay, so BEYOND THE FARTHEST PRECINCT didn't happen? I can live with that. Even though the original TOP 10 was one of my favorite miniseries, it's been a while since I read it, and I had to go back and refresh my memory because Zander and Kevin Cannon pick up pretty much exactly where Alan Moore left off almost eight years ago - the mess with Commissioner Ultima is referred to as "recent trouble", Irma is still grieving for her dead partner Sung Li, Smax and Toybox are still on Smax's homeworld. I had my doubts about this one - conventional knowledge says it's never a good idea to follow Alan Moore on anything unless you're Neil Gaiman or possibly Jamie Delano. But I'm very pleased to see that the Cannons have captured the spirit of TOP 10 perfectly: at its core, it's a series that takes human problems and pokes fun at them by applying superpowers, so you get "crossover-dressing" where superhero Top Flight secretly dresses up in a different (very, very scary) costume and calls himself Green Bolt; an old man is selling Shazam-esque Magic Words to kids; and, of course, we have the Big Picture murder mystery, much like the Sentinels case in Moore's run. Now, based on all the comparisons I've made, it's easy to see how SEASON TWO could be considered derivative, but changing the basic formula isn't necessary here: it's enough that the Cannons come up with new concepts (like the aforementioned Magic Word peddler) that run along the same lines as the Galactapuss/Cosmouse Secret Crisis War of times past - that's the sort of clever game that makes this issue a VERY GOOD sequel.

NO HERO #1: You might think this doesn't belong in a post about #1's that aren't really First Issues, but so help me, if I have to play another round of Spot That Ellisism, I'm going to scream and vent my rage like the guy on the cover. Look, a bunch of "superheroes" wearing gas masks! And they fight crime! Violently! And they got their powers through DRUGS! And there's a bunch of historical quotes so it all looks So Very Relevant and Important! And our protagonist is So Damn Mad about the State of the World that he punches out his litterbox! That's how mad he is! And there's a Super-Suicide Girl who prefers texting to talking! AWFUL, because I've seen Ellis do this routine so many times it's not even funny anymore. It's like perpetual deja vu by now.

Some burbling from Hibbs (new business)

Besides the time pressures lately (once we get used to this Kinder schedule, things should be smoother), I've been kind of unimpressed with most of the comics I've been reading lately. Its not even that I hate them or anything -- that's always worth a few inches -- but just that I've been feeling "Meh" about most stuff I'm reading.

It could be the lack of sleep, or it could just be me getting (more) jaded, I dunno.

So I'm really happy that in the last week or so I've read two things that fill me with enough love and joy to actually sit down and write!

We've received both of these books from Baker & Taylor, so I couldn't tell you if they've made it through Diamond's system yet, but both are well worth seeking out:

BURMA CHRONICLES HC: This is Guy Delisle's third "travelogue" book (the previous two are PYONGYANG: A JOURNEY IN NORTH KOREA and SHENZHEN: A TRAVELOGUE FROM CHINA). I quite liked the first, but thought the second was kind of flat. Maybe because North Korea is more mysterious than China? Maybe because there's more dramatic tension (such as one can get in an autobiographical comic!) in the repressive dictatorship than the less-repressive China? Maybe more interesting incidents happened in the first than the second?

Hard to say, but BURMA CHRONICLES, Delisle has a big return to form, with my enjoying this even more than I liked PYONGYANG.

This time through, incidents are often more fragmented from one another, and with a significant portion of the book being one-page relations, Delisle perhaps acts more like a cartoonist, and tries to find a punchline in each vignette.

Delisle's cartooning is deceptively simple, but there's a few places where his mastery of craft is really clear -- especially in comparison to some of the "bad panels" he shows (from lack of proper ink to draw with, or tendinitis at one point)

What I like best about these books is they both teach me something new, as well as being entertaining in their own right. Delisle comes off as an extremely entertaining person who'd you'd love to be seated next to at a dinner party while he regales you with stories of his trips. This is EXCELLENT stuff, and I highly recommend it.

My one complaint: the book is in a different format than the previous two (no dust-jacket [which I actually prefer] and just a little physically shorter), and isn't going to look as nice on the bookshelf.

TAMARA DREWE: Posy Simmond's new book isn't exactly "new" -- it's been out in the UK for at least a year, maybe more, but it is just coming out in the US now.

What a masterpiece!

It's sort of 1/3 prose, from three different characters thoughts, with a mix of panel narrative and single piece counterpoints to the text. It is bold, it is supremely assured, and I think it is the best piece of comic-ing that I've read this year.

The story sounds a little dull on summary -- it is about a writer's retreat and the characters that live in and around it, and how they react to return to the area of the book's title character, but it is sharp and expressive and extremely rich and vivid in detailing that world and the characters in it. I also liked how the book is ABOUT Tamara Drewe, but that the narrative focuses mostly on characters around her orbit.

I got lost in some of the British slang in a few places (thankfully, they explained what "paps" were a few pages on), and I think the TWO deaths at the end of the book lost some impact being piled upon each other, but otherwise I absolutely adored this comic, and give it my strongest possible recommendation. EXCELLENT!

What did YOU think?

-B

Reviews And A Lot Of Other Mental Detritus

I know, I know. I've been gone for far too long again. What can I say? I've been busy. But just as my last appearance here was to tell you 50 things I love about comics, I'm giving you another list this time: 25 Entirely Random Thoughts About Comics From My Past Week. Feel free to rip apart any of these in the comments; that's what they're there for.

1. The Minx closure is just depressing, for reasons that Chris Butcher puts his finger on, in part, here. I'm nowhere near the target market for this line, but I enjoyed almost all of the books to varying degrees (including Clubbing, which seems to get beaten up in almost all write-ups for some reason. Yes, the art was on the sterile side, but I loved the writing. Also, despite what Johanna thinks, the line did have at least one person who loved it: my wife, who eagerly devoured each new release), and think that it was a wonderful balance to the genre-heavy rest of DC's output (Also, format-wise, I loved the $10 for a small OGN price point). I hope that everything that was already in the works for the line ends up at a new home somewhere.

2. Again to agree with Chris Butcher, the early closure of Minx has got to make Vertigo Crime editor Will Dennis very nervous about how his imprint is going to perform. That can't be fun, knowing that your line may have less than two years to prove itself.

3. While I'm talking about Minx: The second Plain JANES book, JANES IN LOVE, was much better than the first, even though I'm not sure I could coherently explain why. The writing was tighter and had a much stronger narrative arc, the art was - I don't know... weirder? More individual? More Jim Rugg-y? It felt more honest, less attempting to be generic, if that makes sense - and the book as a whole had a much greater sense of purpose than the first. Me, I thought it was Very Good.

4. On the other hand, THE NEW YORK FOUR disappointed the Local fan in me. That's not Ryan Kelly's fault (if anything, his art in this was stronger than in his Local issues), but Brian Wood's, and for the same reason that The Plain JANES disappointed: the book just stopped, as opposed to finishing. Obviously, a sequel was planned - and is being worked on as I type, I believe - but it doesn't stop this otherwise enjoyable (The guidebook commentary in particular is a nice touch, and Wood manages to bring some humanity to what could've otherwise just been a bunch of stereotypes) book from slamming on the brakes so suddenly at the end that you probably hit your head off the metaphorical dashboard. A high Okay, sadly.

5. My favorite new series to have appeared recently are both Vertigo books - House of Mystery and Air. Does this mean that we're headed back to a period where Vertigo is putting out a lot of good, surprising work again, or just that I'm getting old?

6. AIR's second issue is better than its first, by far (A high Good compared to an Okay, if you're going by that scale); I got sent previews of the first five issues from DC just after the first issue came out, and the fourth issue in particular just made me a massive fan of the series - which made me somewhat sad, because how many people will stick around to the fourth issue in this kind of market? Nonetheless, if you've bought the first two issues and feel like you're still on the fence, stick around until the fourth before you make a decision.

7. No, I can't tell you what it was about the fourth issue that I liked so much without ruining the surprise. Sorry.

8. The comic I'm most looking forward to read that's currently in my (growing) to-do pile? Andy Ristaino's massive The Babysitter, which just blew my mind leafing through the oversized, densely-packed, pages.

9. Mark Millar and Bryan Hitch's FANTASTIC FOUR #560 just continues their lackluster attempt at being imaginative without, you know, actually coming up with anything new. When The World's Greatest Comic Magazine reads as if it's stolen its plot from Heroes, which in itself stole its plot from "Days of Future Past," then that's not a good thing. It's such a... dull book, now. Not just in the sense of being boring (although it is; it's slow and unsurprising and unamusing, all of which the ideal Fantastic Four comic should never be), but also in terms of the visuals, with Hitch's overly-rendered, awkward figures buried under coloring that seems like sludge. I'd love to be a fly on the wall in Marvel's offices to see discussions about this run - it's not in the top 20 best selling books, generating next to no buzz, and has roughly the same readership as Dwayne McDuffie's run. Is it a failure, considering what was expected? Oh, and Awful.

10. I've been reading a lot of Essentials lately, so part of my mind is convinced that it's not really the FF unless Joe Sinnott is inking, admittedly.

11. Also from reading so many Essentials: Ed Brubaker's CAPTAIN AMERICA #42 is both Good and completely influenced by Steve Englehart's run on the book from the mid-70s - He even brought back crazy 1950s Cap! It's not just the cast (The Falcon, Sharon Carter, Red Skull and Arnim Zola? Come on); there's something about Bucky's character and the constant questioning himself about whether he's worthy enough of Steve Rogers' legacy that's 100% Englehart-esque. All of which is a good thing, in case you were wondering.

12. In fact, between Brand New Day, Brubaker's Captain America and Dan Slott's plans for Mighty Avengers , Marvel's really going for a return for the 1970s these days. You could even argue that things like Secret Invasion and even Civil War are just longer, slower, versions of the kind of quasi-political things that Englehart and co. were trying to do back then, only taken much more seriously and to greater extremes. This can only mean one thing: Dark Reign is what happens when America is taken over the elf with a gun.

13. That said, four ongoing mainstream continuity Avengers books is insanity. Especially when you know that they'll all end up coming out on the same week. Which'll also be the same week that Invincible Iron Man and Captain America come out.

14. Completely random observation: Marvel events are all about bringing the books together and setting a coherent tone and overall plot for the universe going forward, but DC events are all about trying to launch different plots and tones - Look at One Year Later or all the different titles that have the Final Crisis branding.

15. DC's variety is never played up as the strength that it should be. The Batbooks aren't like the Superman books aren't like Wonder Woman, Flash (which is, admittedly, a bit schizophrenic in and of itself right now) and Green Lantern, etc. etc. - Why isn't this seen as a good thing by fandom at large? When a Marvel book comes through that is genuinely different and not smothered by the frowny self-importance of the Marvel Universe Status Quo Du Jour (like Hellcat or The Immortal Iron Fist, say), it seems much more of a surprise and like it's somehow slipped through the cracks... why can't DC play their books up as a whole line full of such happy surprises?

16. I just realized: Kathryn Immonen should write Fantastic Four.

17. TRINITY (#17 of which came out this week) reads really well in chunks - It's the DC event book for people who think that Final Crisis makes them think too much - but really poorly in single-issues (The most recent issue, when taken on it's own, for example, is just an Eh). When fight scenes last more than an issue, even with the shortened page-lengths of the split book format, then you should know that something's wrong. Also, is it just me, or does it feel as if the Busiek/Bagley strip is taking up less and less of the book as the series progresses? I don't think that it actually is, but it always seems to give the impression of being over too quickly.

18. If I were in charge of collections at DC, I'd put Trinity into a series of quick and cheap trades immediately, so people can realize that it really does read much more smoothly when you read a month or so at once.

19. Also, Mike Carlin? Page 7 of #17 isn't a third of the way through a 52 issue series. That'd be page 7 of #18. 17 x 3 = 51, remember?

20. My not-so-secret anymore shame: Brand New Day Spider-Man has grown on me. I'm sorry, but I'm a sucker for Spider-Man Done Right, and if you can get over the whole "they invalidated Peter's marriage and continuity oh no," this comes pretty close to it being done right in my eyes (It's not perfect, mind you, but it's enjoyable). New Ways To Die is almost undoing that, however, so there's still hope for my cynical side to win out.

21. Talking of New Ways To Die: A six-part story told in a comic that comes out three times a month and we really have to wait four weeks for the last part? How did anyone let that happen?

22. Why the hell is the internet suddenly bothered about whether or not Peter Parker slept with Betty Brant thirty years ago?

23. You know, it's kind of hard to argue with this year's Harvey Award winners. Congratulations, Doug! (And also Bryan, Brian, Darwyn and everyone involved in All-Star Superman.)

24. I want an Absolute All Star Superman collection already.

25. I have felt so guilty about not writing for Savage Critics for so long that I have just spilled my mind onto the keyboard and forced all of you who've made it to the end to read the above. I'll try and post more regularly and more coherently in future. Honest.

God's in his Heaven - All's right with the world!

All Star Superman #12

This is the last issue of this series, barring future specials or two-issue story bursts from writer Grant Morrison and various unknown possible artists - regardless, it surely is an ending. A GOOD one, as a single issue, if sapped of immediacy by Morrison's rigorous prior explorations of his themes, in more interesting single issues (I'm thinking #10). Frank Quitely & Jamie Grant do keep the pace nicely -- which means some fine physical poise and a few helpfully low-detail clouds of dust in various backgrounds -- although this isn't so much a grand finale as a concluding step off the ledge into inevitability.

But then, the issue is titled Superman in Excelsis, so maybe a bit of godly distance is appropriate. And Morrison's approach to the Superman mythos is nothing if not Catholic! Allow me go into some detail, thus ruining all surprises forever. This is a capstone issue, one covering the top of Superman's tomb. Yes, he does die - sort of. He 'dies' in that he has to leave humanity to their own devices by becoming a prolonged temporary part of the sun -- poisoned by Solaris the Tyrant! -- thus joining fully with the source of his powers and literally shining his radiance down on Earth.

It's fully the end of Morrison's take on the character, one that saw him face down his mortality by confronting various doppelgängers and alternate visions of himself, to the eventual effect of his preparing humanity to take the next step without him; Morrison is maniacal in his enthusiasm for the character, gleefully pushing him in ever more heavenly directions, at one point having him literally create our universe -- presumably after this 'death' he rises again as Superman Prime, as per issue #6 and Morrison's own much-referenced Old Testament of JLA: One Million -- but his is a theology that realizes the day-by-day is utterly left to people, who have the potential to be like gods themselves.

But Superman knew that before he knew it, you know? As Our Hero noted way back in issue #2, concerning the gates to his mighty Fortress:

"One day some future man or woman will open that door with that key.

"When they do, I want them to know how it felt to live at the dawn of the age of superheroes."

Knowing all we know now, the obvious suggestion is that superheroes will stop dropping from the sky into the heartland and start rising from the grass itself. Which isn't to say that no mortals at all can fly in the present:

I like that Morrison has characterized Lex Luthor as the world's most pompous skeptic -- because it's funny -- but I like even more that it isn't the skepticism that makes Luthor wicked - it's his unwillingness to use his obviously formidable talents to do anything but stroke his own persecution complex. As Quintum notes at the end of this issue, without a Superman to tangle with, Luthor simply fades away.

Oh, did anyone else think Quintum was somehow Luthor in disguise for most of this series? I sure did - that was my big secret theory. But I think Morrison has done something more interesting; if Luthor is Superman's most profound mirror image, then Quintum is ultimately Luthor's, being a mad genius who struggles to accomplish things ("...the measure of a man lies not in what he says but what he does," as the series' first collected volume opines), and generally needs Superman to haul his sorry rainbow ass out of trouble. He's completed a journey by the end of the series too, his similarities to Superman's foe finally representing humanity's progress in the post-Superman era, where a statue stands in a park like in Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?, although Morrison's story doesn't turn on any loss of powers from this world - just the opposite.

All of this, granted, doesn't make for so much a pleasing issue of a comic as an assurance that notions raised in prior issues would reach completion. Issue #12 itself is actually a pretty low-key thing, with nearly half its space given to an elegiac cruise with Jor-El over an erupting Krypton (cute reversal of the famously concise destruction sequence from issue #1), and a mostly plain Superman/Luthor final throwdown in a dim Metropolis (we don't see the deadly blue sun until the end); I wish there'd been less orthodox superhero hitting and more of Luthor's gradual awareness as to the nature of the universe due to his artificially heightened intellect.

In the end, he can only weep from the human enormity of it all; fascinatingly, Morrison then has Superman make the cynical (if not unfounded) assumption that Luthor is merely realizing how he's been outsmarted again, allowing some gentle ambiguity to linger regarding both icons' positions as Greatest Good and Greatest Ill. It does make sense from this series' point of view, dealing in archetypes but unwilling to let any character sit quite still in his or her prescribed roles (and feel free to insert your favorite enlightenment-through-drugs-in-a-Grant-Morrison-comic joke here).

I look forward to reading through this whole series again, carefully, from start to finish; I'm sure there's plenty of variations lurking around, not to mention one million allusions to other works that I've missed. Yet I also think it's a very simple story, one that certainly doesn't need every last image to be puzzled over and indexed. Quintum's final stroll may lead to a colorful solid wall on that last page, but I think it's plain enough that whatever's behind it will be the new humanity, the people to lift the half-million ton key, the genetic mix of man and superman that will be the true descendants of the man of the title, sometimes peeking their heads back into the past, in that undying spirit of aid. Inspired.

Abhay's Sixth Review Of SKRULLS VERSUS NEW YORK Isn't Very Cheerful For Some Reason.

BEFORE WE JUMP: Are fans excited about the SECRET INVASION? Can I watch them be excited? Through binoculars? Part of the pleasure I hoped to have from SECRET INVASION was voyeuristic.

My emotional investment in the "Marvel Universe" is greater than an average person, true, but my suspicion is that it's far, far, far behind that of the dedicated fans. The guys who love that company. The guys who have a favorite superhero they’ve been reading about for years. The guys who own costumes, and try to talk girls into attending Comic-Cum 2008. The Marvel Zombie. The True Believer. The Huddled Masses. The guys who get blamed for every single thing that's gone wrong with comics.

Part of what I hoped would happen in reading this series, in writing about it every month, involving myself with it, watching fans, watching fans react to it, trying to be as excited as them-- part of what I hoped would happen was that a window might open for me to that enthusiasm. How can you not envy their enthusiasm? Didn’t I use to be more enthusiastic? Not just about Marvel Comics? About life?

So I say to myself, maybe it’s just a question of sense memory. Maybe I can remember how to be that person again, just by moving like he moved! Sure, that sounds completely wrong and doomed for failure, but: maybe a comic like SECRET INVASION could be a road back to some hypothetically more hopeful, more open, more eager person I imagine that I used to be. If I could feel excitement, unembarrassed excitement about something as dumb as a Marvel superhero comic book again, maybe I could take that feeling into other parts of my life; I could become a person unafraid to be unapologetically enthusiastic, again; I could bend spoons with my mind, Uri-Gellar-style. Maybe I'd find out something about Love. Maybe I'd find out that sometimes letting go is the only way to know what you need to hold onto. I didn't see the movie DAN IN REAL LIFE, but I really wanted this to be like the trailer for that.

I wanted SECRET INVASION to tell me that I deserve to be loved-- I don't think there's anything weird about that.

But, obviously, it hasn’t worked. It isn't working. Where's my enthusiasm? What's there to be enthusiastic about? Is anyone out there fired up about the SECRET INVASION? As far as I know, angry fans haven't even demanded anyone be fired once over SECRET INVASION -- demanding someone be fired is how they show their affection. Like Lennie petting the mouse from Of Mice and Men.

Instead, this crossover which should be completely exciting is all over-shadowed on the Internet on Wednesday by ALL-STAR BATMAN printing errors, which... Are you as excited by the ALL-STAR BATMAN printing errors as I am? It's the closest comics get to nip-slips. "Oooh, I shouldn't be seeing this, but I am, because of an 'accident'." It's not a printing error; it's a nip-slip!

The same day the ALL STAR BATMAN issue came out, photos came out of the very untalented Ms. Jennifer Aniston wearing a black dress that to her surprise became transparent when exposed to flash bulbs. Coincidence? Or cross-promotion?!

It's weird to know, after all these years, if those black bars on Batman's dialogue had been removed, we'd have found out that Batma was saying "Criminals are a shit-guzzling and cowardly lot of ax-wounds, who like to fuck babies in the ass while they're shitting even though their herpes sores are flaring-up" all along--? I knew those black bars were awfully big, but I didn't realize Batman was going so hog-wild under there, all these years.

paytonls6

How can SECRET INVASION compete with a nip-slip? By advancing the storyline another 2 whole minutes? Shya'right. But... Awww, hell, show me your nipples, SECRET INVASION #6.

AND NOW WE HAVE JUMPED:

What a fucking failure!

Wow: they just fucked that one up completely.

This comic really lacks the eye of the tiger, man. This isn’t Rocky Balboa at the end of ROCKY 3; this is Rocky Balboa at the beginning of ROCKY 3. This book is an exhibition match with Thunderlips.

Thunderlips, yo.

****

Finally! Finally, we get page after page attacking the true enemy: LIBERAL PROTESTERS.

hatefulleftieskx4 Where the fuck did that shit come from??

Page after page, not of the first or second or even third issue, page after page of the SIXTH ISSUE-- it wasn’t spent escalating the stakes of the comic, it wasn't spent dealing with characters we care about, it wasn't spent paying off earlier scenes. The fucking SIXTH ISSUE was spent introducing an entirely new cast of straw-men liberal characters, and then attacking them for being naive about the nature of evil.

First, let me just say, on a political level, this comic can go fuck itself. You know-- one pretty easy way a person could read this comic if they were so inclined is that it equates protesting wars with supporting terrorism. I don't think the people who made the comic think that. I don't think they were thinking at all. I don't think they made a big priority of thinking.

Second, the liberal woman character is from INDEPENDENCE DAY. The lady character in the Los Angeles section of the movie who goes to celebrate the aliens arriving on top of a LA skyscraper and gets vaporized in the first 10 minutes? Same exact shit. Don’t be ripping off INDEPENDENCE DAY unless you’re willing to go full-on Goldblum. This comic wouldn’t know full-on Goldblum if the Goldblum poured water on its hand in order to explain Chaos theory.

Three: what does that liberal moment accomplish? Nothing in the issue, not a goddamn thing, whatsoever. But does it accomplish anything conceivably? Anything? Oh, it could be argued that it portrays SECRET INVASION from the street-level perspective. Uh, Except: fans already spend time and money on that. They spend money on SECRET INVASION FRONT LINE. They spend time on the SECRET INVASION web-comic. What does this scene accomplish??

***

There’s also a 2-page splash of New York in ruins. Because I didn’t know that New York was in trouble before now. They hadn’t told me that information in the last 5 issues of nonstop New-York-in-trouble scenes. That came as a COMPLETE SURPRISE.

Even if you want a splash page on New York—- what, they couldn’t do a 1 page splash? What does a 2 page splash accomplish that a 1 page splash wouldn't have? How is that not padding?

Or maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about: maybe people buy superhero comics to look at splash pages of New York City. Maybe that takes 2 pages so people get doubly excited. "Look how much New York I'm getting for my money!" I didn’t realize that’s why people buy comics.

The splash pages are to convey the horror of what’s gone on in New York while the characters on the page before spent FIVE ISSUES on a half-hour long scene in the Savage Land. Except they… don’t bother to show any characters reacting to the splash! That moment of horror that double-page splash is designed to create? Off-panel. Characters reacting? The drama of their reactions? Oh, fans don't want that! They just want New York drawings-- that other stuff is just icing.

What the fuck?

***

Anything I would guess fans would want to see isn’t here. Fans don’t want to see Hawkeye after the last page of the last issue? Fans don’t want to see more of Iron Man interacting with the Skrull Queen after their earlier confrontation? Fans don’t want to see more of Nick Fury doing … anything, after all the build-up for him? Anything at all?

Speaking of that scene-- remember that last page of Hawkeye in the last issue, where Hawkeye is all “We’re going to get those Skrulls?” Remember that? Don’t worry if you don’t because you get two more pages of that EXACT SAME SCENE, except Iron Man and Luke Cage saying the same thing instead. That’s a good scene because they’re different characters than Hawkeye. That’s not repetitive at all! That’s not repetitive at all! That’s not repetitive at all! That’s not repetitive at all! That’s not repetitive at all!

I can’t tell if the villains joined forces with the heroes because there are two characters in this comic with red hoods—uh, both of whom are men. Did all of the villains in the Marvel universe team up with all of the heroes in the Marvel universe (holy shit!) OFF PANEL so that the comic could spend time attacking liberals?

I want to give them the benefit of the doubt they didn’t fuck up that badly... I literally can not tell.

Remember that cliffhanger a couple issues back, where it’s like “Oh my god, y’all, Captain America and Thor are going to show up?” Guess what the payoff of that was?

ONE PANEL.

Captain America says “What’s shakin', bacon” to Thor. Thor says “Give me some love, turtle dove” back. That’s it. That moment was a moment they promised fans would be awesome, and they failed and they failed spectacularly. Fans got one panel. It was a cliffhanger in an earlier issue-— what is a cliffhanger but a promise to fans that awesome shit will ensue? And what's the pay-off?

ONE PANEL!

Holy shit, y'all: they're asking people to pay money for this! Think on that, for a moment. HOLY SHIT, Y'ALL!

Two page splashes of New York, three pages of snarky attacks on liberals, and four pages of wannabe-George-Perez spreads is supposed to make up for a story that’s not doing it’s job. Wow.

Do you think they can rally from this issue? You know, if I had to bet money, I'd bet against them. I don’t think they can rally. It's possible. It's conceivable. But... it'd be an upset. For me, personally, there’s nothing here.

I just look at it, and think, you know, they weren’t hungry. They didn’t have the fire in their bellies. They didn't want the belt badly enough.

thunderlipsjr5 *******

I’d seen the basic facts about that issue of some SECRET INVASION tie-in or another, where the Skrulls were making all the Reed Richards Skrulls in order to figure out how he thinks. I’d hoped that it was a hint that my theory was right, and that the Reed Richards we’ve seen throughout the series was a Skrull all along. That the Skrull-ray he invented was a fake, and that the superheroes killed last issue were the real deal. I just think that would be really entertaining.

But with this issue, the way things are playing out, it seems like my theory is a big load of bunk.

But what do we have instead?

The Skrulls imitated Reed Richards but not long enough to find out how he’d stop them…? Here’s the Skrull’s stated motivation: “We hate Reed Richards because he stops us every time. But we’re not going to plan for him trying to stop us. We're not going to find out how he'd stop us this time and plan for that. Instead, we’re going to go play boggle with Catherine Keener.”

I don’t understand that at all. Does anyone even understand that?

***

Could someone tell me anything this comic did right?

I’ve learned enough over the years that a reaction this negative usually means it’s as much if not more me and what’s going on in my life than the comic itself. Which-- you know, it’s been a long day. Sure. It's been a long day. It's been a long month. Maybe I’m in a worse mood than I realized tonight.

But... What did this comic do right?

***

Go to the tundra.

Learn to make comics again by chopping wood. Carrying timber. Turn this around.

Go to the tundra!

Risin' up, back on the street Did my time, took my chances Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet Just a man and his will to survive

So many times, it happens too fast You change your passion for glory Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past You must fight just to keep them alive

Chorus: It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight Risin' up to the challenge of our rival And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night And he's watchin' us all in the eye of the tiger

Face to face, out in the heat Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry They stack the odds 'til we take to the street For we kill with the skill to survive

chorus

Risin' up, straight to the top Have the guts, got the glory Went the distance, now I'm not gonna stop Just a man and his will to survive

chorus

The eye of the tiger (repeats out)...

Spoken like a spoke: Douglas catches up on periodicals, quick-hit style

I got to read two weeks' worth of individual issues at once. Behind the times! Oh no! Under the cut: AMBUSH BUG, ROGUES' REVENGE, JONAH HEX, AVENGERS both MIGHTY and NEW, SECRET SIX and some spoilers.

AMBUSH BUG: YEAR NONE #2: The premise of this mini, as I understand it, is that each issue is Keith Giffen and Robert Loren Fleming riffing on some project in recent DC history; the first one was a reasonably pointed take on Identity Crisis. This one seems to be about the run-up to Infinite Crisis, but there's not much to say about that--a death-of-Ted-Kord scene, a couple of near-miss OMAC gags--so Giffen and Fleming spend most of the issue riffing without a theme, and their jokes don't go anywhere. A low EH, but I'm looking forward to the 52 and Countdown issues...

FINAL CRISIS: ROGUES' REVENGE #2: I used to actively dislike a lot of Geoff Johns's comics--I thought they leaned hard on gross-out sadism and obscuro continuity to cover up for what they lacked in plot dynamics and character development. I'm not sure if my sensibilities have shifted or if he's just gotten significantly better over the last year or two, because I've been thoroughly digging most of what he's been writing lately. This issue is as gruesomely violent as any mainstream comic I've read lately, but it roars--I'd say it's just a well-constructed crime story that happens to have costumes and powers, but actually the costumes-and-powers stuff (as well as some backstory from his old Flash run that's spelled out briskly and fairly gracefully) is central to the way the story comes together. And I love the ragged, nasty grain of Scott Kolins' line here. VERY GOOD.

JONAH HEX #35: Gray & Palmiotti's ongoing series about sexual assault in the Old West gets a special issue drawn by J.H. Williams III, maybe my favorite artist currently working in mainstream comics, and he digs into the dust-and-sagebrush look with relish. But the gunfight half of this issue is the most generically written Western I've seen in a long time, and the premise of the rest--in which Hex gets some psychedelic roofies in his drink from a couple looking for him to knock the woman up because he's too ugly for her to fall in love with... well, it's pretty GOOD as long as you just look at the pictures, anyway.

MIGHTY AVENGERS #17/NEW AVENGERS #44: Has anyone put together a comprehensive Secret Invasion chronology? At this point, with the main action of the invasion treading water in the Savage Land and the two Bendis Avengers books flashing all over the timeline, I'm losing touch with how these stories fit into the overall scheme, and what they signify. In particular, I'd appreciate it if somebody could explain what's happening in this particular Mighty (aside from its cute cover nod to TALES TO ASTONISH #27): so the Skrull replacements for Hank Pym keep going off-message and being killed and replaced? But after Criti Noll/Pym gets killed, he's replaced by another Criti Noll? Or another Skrull pretending to be Criti Noll pretending to be Pym? What? And, in New, the Skrull "clonepod" Reed Richards only has access to the real one's mental abilities if he thinks he's the real one? Both OKAY, but I'm impatient for everything to click together.

SECRET SIX #1: It is a personal weakness of mine that I really prefer first issues to act like first issues. Having only read bits and pieces of Gail Simone's Secret Six projects in the past, I found myself navigating through this page-by-page just fine, but wondering what exactly the premise of the series is. The title includes a "six," there are four characters visible on the cover, on the inside there are five members on the team but the promise of a sixth (why would there have to be six?), and... what kind of team is it? They have missions? They're assassins and thugs? They're sort of in Batman's good graces? Why do they work together? As usual, Simone is more than solid with the character stuff (the best bit here is Deadshot blithely ignoring a stickup at the convenience store where he's buying ice cream until he finally gets fed up and demonstrates how one should hold up a convenience store), but this is very oddly paced--the opening scene setting up a creepy bad guy who talks like Herbie Popnecker seems like it'd be more appropriate for an issue that doesn't have a big "#1" on the cover, for instance. OKAY.

 

#1 is the loneliest number of all

So, about that retailing thing...

Ah! No, just kidding!

How about some reviews, this time of some of the new #1's from this week...

ADAM STRANGE SPECIAL #1: Much like the HAWKMAN SPECIAL #1 from a few weeks ago, this tries to set up a new status quo projecting Adam as one of the "Aberrant Six" with a lot of yadda yadda yadda set up about Synnar and some cosmic problem, and blech, I don't find any of this compelling whatsoever. Adam starts jumping through time, rather than space, which you know, could actually maybe be a somewhat interesting twist on his basic set up... but absolutely nothing of consequence is done with this concept, other than maybe showing a future where Alana appears to hate him, essentially negating everything interesting about Adam Strange to begin with (he's always always trying to get back to Alana) If "Synnar" was a compelling villain, then maybe this setup would be interesting, but while Kirby got away with doing a misspelled "Dark Side" in the 60s, that doesn't fly in 2007! At least HAWKMAN had some really nice Starlin art. Rick Leonardi just isn't in the same league. I really hope we don't have to sit through four more specials to get to the rest of the "Aberrant Six and have an actual story happen... AWFUL.

JONAH HEX #35: Well, OK, it's not a #1, but I feel compelled to bring up this issue, with fucking nice J.H. Williams art! This gets my vote for the prettiest comic of the week. I don't buy the plot at all, where they try to rape a drugged Hex (imagine the howls if the genders were reversed!), but the art is nice enough to make me not care too much... GOOD.

MARVEL APES #1: I was walking in expecting to loath this, what with that "preview" they ran in whatever Spider-Man special that was a few weeks ago, where it read like a really bad CAPTAIN CARROT, with half of the puns. So, I was pretty surprised that this was as an enjoyable read as it was, was actually set in "real" continuity, and had some genuine character development. Albeit with The Mandrill. Still, all of that rates it an easy OK.

MS. MARVEL ANNUAL #1: Hey it says #1 on my invoice, so it counts! This was a fun Bugs Bunny story. Bugs is played by Spider-Man, and Ms. Marvel gets the Elmer Fudd role. Not strictly the choice *I* would have made in casting the lead as Elmer, but sure, why not? This was surprisingly OK, but should have ended with Ms. Marvel having her face ashy and hair frizzed out from an explosion or something...

SECRET SIX #1: This comic was pretty wrong, with its love of casual violence and female lap dances, but I think it was probably my favorite capes & tights book of the week. I'm not sure that this is sustainable as a monthly ongoing title, but here's a place I'm willing to find out. VERY GOOD.

SUB-MARINER: DEPTHS #1: Lovely lovely art, but the protagonist isn't really on view, and I found my head nodding as I tried to get through it. Still, LOVELY art, and worth an OK on that basis alone.

TWELVE #1/2: Slightly cheating again for this pack of golden age Timely reprints, but holy cow there's an AWESOME Basil Wolverton Rockman story buried in here which is worth the purchase price all by itself. It's really amazing how strinkingly different it is from the comics that surround it. The package as a whole: OK. That Wolverton bit? VERY GOOD.

OK, I need to get back to work now! What did YOU think?

-B

Before you go: Jeff Finally Gets Around to Love & Rockets New Stories #1

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My timing, as is typical, is atrocious: I've been meaning to write a review of this book ever since I bought a copy at SDCC. Since it just hit stores this week, I all but exhort you to dash out and buy a copy: not just because it's Love & Rockets and it's the Hernandez Bros., and not even because it's the Hernandez Bros. at what may be at the start of (yet another) period of sustained excellence, but because both Jaime and Gilbert give you, in their own way, their versions of Final Crisis and Secret Invasion and the comparison and contrast may soothe and intrigue you.

[More exhorting and coercing and hopefully avuncular rib-poking behind the cut.]

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Although it starts as a typical Locas story, with Maggie at her apartment complex talking to her pal Angel about a mysterious tenant, "The Search for Penny Century" changes gears very early on, as Angel, finally alone, changes into costume and scales a roof:

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Y'see, the core of the first issue of L&R: NS #1 is 50 pages of Jaime Hernandez doing superheroes, and it so openly and easily moves back forth between the silly and the stellar, it reduced me to a piece of gibbering fanboy protoplasm. And isn't that supposed to be the point of Final Crisis and Secret Invasion? (In fact, although I knew better, I approached Jaime at the table and asked if the story was meant to be a reaction of Marvel and DC's current addiction to big events. He was, thankfully, entirely gracious about it, and just said that he thought it'd be fun to do something with a lot of energy.)

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I could go on to summarize what happens in the story, but I think that does it a degree of disservice. Let's just say that Jaime, like Grant Morrison, creates a ton of new characters in a short degree of time and yet, for me, does a much a better job of convincing me to care about them. This shouldn't be particularly surprising, of course: Jaime is, in the very best sense, a cartoonist, and cartooning not only allows for any number of narrative shortcuts, the shortcuts produce a feeling of delight when done correctly.

And this, by the way, is why my timing is so atrocious: If I'd written this review when I'd intended, my comparison of Jaime's story to Final Crisis would be more in a "huh, isn't this funny?" kind of way. Coming now on the heels of my review of Superman Beyond #1, the comparison seems more confrontational, and corrective, than I intend. On the other hand, if you want to buy a copy of L&R:NS #1 to apply the reasoning of my Superman Beyond review to it and show why I'm full of shit, I don't mind at all...as long as you buy a copy of this book.

It'd be a disservice, by the way, to suggest that Jaime's story is the only reason to pick up L&R:NS #1.

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Beto contributes a story about a pair of Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis analogues that end up on an alien planet, getting superpowers, battling each other, and killing hundreds of aliens. Again, this neatly lines up with current trends and obsessions in current work-for-hire capes & tights, but it's also deeply goofy, hugely fun, and any resemblance to current superhero big events is probably entirely unintentional.

It's a much shorter piece than Jaime's, as Gilbert's peripatetic attention span sends him in several different directions at once. There's cartoon characters engaging in compulsive behavior:

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and oblique, evocative non-narratives:

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and a fun little story that Mario writes and Beto draws, and a story written and drawn by Beto--that reads a bit like if Vittorio De Sica and Gabriel Garcia Marquez had collaborated--that isn't particularly fun.

Anyway, this is far afield from my usual "blah, blah, blah" type of review, but I hope it nonetheless convinces you to at least pick up the L&R if you find yourself at the comic store this weekend. I thought the book was a knockout, and this is a great place to jump on-board if you never followed Los Bros before.

(Oh, and super-thanks to Fantagraphics for keeping a very well-tended Flickr stream. This review, quite obviously, would've been enormously different without it.)

 

Obsolescence & Model Kits: Jeff Looks at FC: Superman Beyond #1 and G-Mo in the DCU

I remember when I was a kid being entranced with model kits. It was a different time then, back before semi-autistic engineers could make themselves rich with their penchant for elegant complexity: instead of writing computer code, they wrote tactical charts for historical wargames, assembled model kits of cars, ships, jets, and rockets (and, occasionally, monsters and robots), and crafted massive model train sets in garages and basements. Painstakingly, they assembled private landscapes--usually based on an actual historic train route--stipling mounds of carved foam to create textured boulders; studying photographs to create detail accurate train yards; rigging lighting; recreating timetables. Until finally, the engineer was done: he'd remade a corner of the world to scale. It looked perfect, ran smoothly, and made you ache to look at it--because it was devoid of people. I never felt so sad as when I looked at a perfectly constructed model train set.

Whereas model trains made me sad, the model kits filled me with frustration. Even the simplest was well beyond the scope of my clumsy fingers and lazy soul. You had to snap and clip plastic parts off a manufactured lattice, then sand the barb from where the part connected with a lattice, glue the parts together, wait, paint them, wait, apply decals, construct the diorama in which to...I'll be honest, I never got past clipping the third or fourth part off the lattice. Part of it--most of it, actually--was shameful laziness, but some of it was the suspiciousness with which I regarded the model makers. After all, if I was supposed to do all that, why didn't I just carve the god-damned thing out of soap? It seemed to me they were taking advantage of my desires (and the abundance of industrial grade plastic at their disposal), turning a tidy profit by promising a completed product for which I would do the majority of the work.

I realized just yesterday, that those feelings of frustration and shame and suspiciousness, are my constant companions when reading most of Grant Morrison's work for the last five or six months. At some point, Morrison stopped writing stories, and began churning out mental model kits of stories, which only work if you take the time to snip them apart, study the instructions, and assemble them yourself.

[More in this vein, alas, behind the cut.]

I have theories as to why Morrison has turned down this path. Many, many, theories. The least generous theory is that Morrison is a brilliant manic-depressive who can cogitate like a motherfucker in his manic stage, falls back on his tropes when he hits his depressive phase (or just stops producing altogether), and is smart enough to make it all sound like it was one organic plan after the fact. So, for example, you get something like "New X-Men" that generates tons of new ideas in the beginning, hits a bad patch where it's all about Mutantbolik and his flying saucer girlfriend, then sprints through a "widescreen" finale (followed by a rushed two part epilogue that jams in all the stuff he never got around to).

A more generous theory is that while Morrison has the mind of a formalist, he's got the heart of an anarchist. If a storyline of his takes too long, he can't help but think of ways to fuck it up and make it more interesting, even if those new ideas invalidate the groundwork he laid. I'm thinking here, again, of his New X-Men storyline, but also The Invisibles, which mutated as it went along, ending far from where it started. Because Morrison constantly layers in allusions that work on multiple levels, it's easy for him to claim victory in the end by suggesting the level that didn't satisfy wasn't the one you weren't supposed to be paying attention to. In some cases (Sea Guy or The Filth, let's say), I believe that's absolutely the case and in some (Xorn, and the New X-Men run being characterized by Morrison as a conscious deconstruction of how the franchise defeats the author), I believe that's absolutely Morrison talking out his lipstick-smeared butthole.

But most generous of all my theories is that G-Mo has constructed a way to promote the work on the Internet that doesn't involve running a forum, or having a Twitter account, or keeping track of his Myspace friends: the individual issues aren't stories jammed with easter eggs, but easter egg hunts cordoned off by a ribbon of plot. The stories themselves aren't particularly difficult, but tracking the details of the plot through the thicket of detail can be, which is where all the online annotations come in handy. As Abhay pointed out in his brilliant recreation of a Marvel panel at SDCC, readers today don't really have any idea how a story works--they only want to know what will happen to the characters they follow, hitting Newsarama day after day to get the spoilers, with no real interest in the story that ostensibly explains exactly that. And companies and creators play along, spoiling stories to lesser and greater degrees so as to build buzz and heat from the resulting discussions and outcries. Morrison's brilliant and daring twist is to construct stories so people will hit the Internet not to discuss what will happen, but to figure out what is happening. Next to the way Mark Millar promotes himself on the Internet, it looks downright elegant.

Under this theory, the fact my enjoyment of Final Crisis didn't really start until I read Douglas' annotations, or that my enjoyment of Batman R.I.P. derives entirely from commentary of fine internet including (but not limited to) Mindless Ones, Funnybook Babylon, and our own critics and commenters, is all part of the plan. Indeed, even though I picked up the majority of the references in Final Crisis: Superman Beyond #1 covered by David Uzumeri's annotations, his willingness to analyze Morrison's intentions on the fly (particularly during that five page Monitor origin sequence) gave me a greater appreciation of the work, and even helped me uncover new layers of interpretation.

SupermanBeyond However, while they gave me the tools to appreciate the work, they didn't give me the tools to enjoy it which suggests that something has gone terribly wrong, either with me or this devious master plan I've capriciously attributed to the book's writer. Honestly, I'd be more willing to attribute this to me if I wasn't reading a comic book where five supermen board a yellow submarine to sail through the metaverse--and one of those supermen is a drugged-out Dr. Manhattan analogue. As Graeme McMillan so frequently says to me when discussing comics, "Come on! How can you not love that?" Honestly, it's such a direct descendant to batshit Steve Gerber stories from the '70s, I can see how I could love it. I should love this book.

And yet, I don't. I mean, I think I'd give it a high OK or something (particularly if you have stereoscopic vision and can take advantage of the 3-D glasses, which I don't and can't) because it's pretty and cool and brings back stuff from Morrison's Animal Man run.

And yet.... I dunno. It could be the model kit factor, where I'm a little frustrated that for $4.50 I get so much frickin' event and so little story. There's not really what you would call much of a plot revealed in all these pretty pages: Superman gets recruited by Zillo Valla (although no one uses that name until the last four or five pages and, at least in the case of Superman, it's not clear how he learns it), they board the Ultima Thule, things go wrong, they end up in Limbo, people make arbitrary decisions--honestly, at this point, it's not really too different from a Friday the 13th movie. You've got the bullying jock (Ultraman), the kind-hearted peacemaker (Captain Marvel), the druggie nerd (Quantum Superman) and the kid who dies the first time he has sex (Overman). If the second issue has Superman in a bra and panties running screaming around the perimeter of a lake while being chased by a chainsaw wielding Anti-Monitor, I won't be too surprised.

I don't think it's the model kit factor, in short. I think Morrison has fallen prey to the Model Train set mindset. Everything looks gorgeous, and the detail is planned out to a staggering level, but there aren't any characters in Superman Beyond #1: there are people with names, their basic character and that's all you got. While Morrison has used such deliberate flatness to extraordinarily good effect in All-Star Superman, I find it more disappointing here simply because there's not thirty-plus years of character identification with most of these characters, and the ones for whom there are--Captain Marvel, for example--get about three lines that aren't purely exposition. It's not surprising Morrison uses a musical motif to explain the travel through the metaverses: he's using the characters in this book (and perhaps in his others) like leitmotifs, thematic markers that gain complexity when contrasted with other markers.

It's a very smart way to deal with work-for-hire superheroes--you can't change them or develop them, after all, so half the traditional conception of what makes a story is out the window anyway. But it may be that I find I prefer the illusion of change and development to no development whatsoever, no matter how much room you clear up for phantasmagorical imagery once you chuck that illusion. For example, if Morrison recognizes that the character with the most depth in Superman: Beyond #1 is Merryman, the King of Limbo, he seems unaware of what this might mean. It's not that every character is too delightful to be consigned to Limbo, but that in innumerable universes where everything happens but nothing has any lasting impact, it's really no different to a single space where nothing happens--the former is just prettier than the latter, and it takes a little longer for boredom to set in there. But once it does, it doesn't matter how many times the trains trundle past their scale-model mountains. No one waits near the flickering waxy light of the station for them to arrive, and when the creator leaves the room, it's as if none of it ever happened.