Please note that these sort of reviews are going to be more sporadic going forward. I’m only buying a few titles a week and with people like Sims and Caleb writing nicely about the periodic titles, I just don’t see why you’d want me to bleat on very often.
Anyway.
The last issue of All-Star Superman is just about perfect. I won’t lie: I had a lump in my throat at least twice, but I am a soft damn touch when it comes to a well-done Superman story and this whole thing was exactly that. It was lovely to see a pair of creators who work so well together embrace the truly bizarre mythos attached to the character and use them for maximum effect while doing something new. While I’m certain I’ll enjoy upcoming Superman stories in the future, I’m also pretty sure that they’ll feel just the slightest bit hollow and sad in comparison.
The debut for Age of the Sentry features a flying corgi (complete with cape) and The Mad Thinker and The Terrible Tinkerer disguising themselves as directors shooting a series of public service announcements with a parasitic camera that sucks the title character’s strength and powers away. Yes, I’ll be reading more, particularly with Paul Tobin and Nick Dragotta involved.
David Tischman and Glenn Fabry’s Greatest Hits is so thunderingly obvious in concept that I’m shocked that I’ve not seen it before: Four British Pop Superheroes During The Sixties Operating As An Analogue To That Most Famous Of Pop Groups. It’s funny and savvy while offering further evidence that Vertigo’s slow reinvention of itself that began a couple years ago is a good thing.
Marvel Adventures Avengers continues to be the only iteration of that most favored of superhero team books that I’m reading. While Mighty Avengers and New Avengers (and soon, Dark Avengers, Nude Avengers andDiet Avengers) continue to ably serve as The Brian Michael Bendis Event Comic Backstory Hour, this comic actually – get this – has a team called “The Avengers” who go out and have adventures! This issue featured Luke Cage and His Momma and a story in which a cat from another dimension needed rescuing, along with a smartmouthed Hammerhead. That sort of thing is certainly more entertaining to me than Skrulls repeatedly cloning Reed Richards until one of the major plot holes of Secret Invasion gets filled in.
Finally, I found myself very much enjoying Jonathan Lethem and Farel Dalrymple’s Omega The Unknown despite my distaste for the author’s prose novels. It reads like a Jim Jarmusch superhero movie, sort of Ghost Dog meeting Spider-Man with enough truly Weird Shit to compare favorably with the original book that spawned it. Dalrymple’s art is as perfect a complement as I could imagine for the script: intentionally flat to the point that the surreal elements – a giant walking hand, for instance – pop that much more. Marvel’s $30 pricepoint may seem a bit high, Amazon has it for a very reasonable $20.
1.
Daft Punk’s Electroma, directed by the duo and starring two other people in their famed robot suits is self-indulgent, ponderous, bloated, and utterly fascinating for its excesses and the statement they appear to make. For years, Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter have used their stage identities to remove the ego from their product, carefully crafting an image that makes the men behind the music invisible to all but the most inquisitive listeners, and this film adds another (likely very intentional) layer of obfuscation between them and their audience.
2.
The film’s plot is threadbare, to say the least: two robots drive a Ferrari 412 (license plate HUMAN) to a town in the desert southwest (straight out of Charley Varrick or Vanishing Point) occupied solely by other robots (both male and female) with the same designs, clad themselves in human disguises that soon melt in the desert heat, and find themselves on the run from the citizenry. If it weren’t for Daft Punk’s explicit explorations of the themes of identity and humanity in the close-to-unlistenable Human After All, I’d think this was art-wank of the highest order. Once placed in context – Electroma began as an expansion of Human After All‘s promotional videos – it becomes part of larger work and, much like Alive 2007, improves upon the source material no small amount, even without featuring it directly.
4.
Early screenings at Cannes were met with confusion and derision. For those not indoctrinated in the themes in the previous material, walking out would be an easy and understandable option: the film offers no explanation of the events presented, merely some above-average camerawork and a narrative that’s far too barebones to satisfy even the most pretentious of filmgoers. I think a lot of the movie’s appeal will be almost subliminal to a good deal of the audience that would be receptive to the work. I don’t necessarily recommend it to everyone, but I’m very glad I’ve seen and own it.
X-Men: Supernovas- I’d written Mike Carey off years ago, to be honest. Never had anything against the man’s writing, but its impact started to fade on me about two-thirds of the way through Lucifer and never really came back, even with the occasionally interesting team-up with somebody like Jae Lee. I gave him another shot, though, after a normally-sane friend of mine (who also convinced me to try Ed Brubaker’s run on Uncanny) was positively foaming at the mouth while giving me the broad strokes events in this trade paperback. While my reaction wasn’t quite as robust, I will say that I was very pleasantly surprised with the contents. Collecting three story arcs in the eleven issues (plus an annual), Supernovas has a lot of what I dig about the X-Men: big set pieces, epic fights, and just enough melodrama. Chris Bachalo’s art works very well for this story, even if he does sex up things a bit much. Between this and the recent Amazing Spider-Man arc he drew, I’m wondering if my tastes have changed in the decade or so since I first met him, as I’ve been more thoroughly indoctrinated in his influences (manga, graffiti, etc.)
Wait, no, those issues of Morrison’s New X-Men are still pretty damn weird to look at.
Anyway, points to Mike Carey for making me care about Rogue. Mystique’s integration into the group was actually compelling and had me hooked, even if I already know how that whole thing is going to end, which takes a deft hand.
X-Men: Blinded By The Light – Is not nearly as entertaining as Supernovas, even if it offers a few payoffs. After the previous installment’s successes, it seems like the blame would likely fall on Humberto Ramos. I would frequently look at pages and wonder what exactly the script was versus what was presented on the page, and the nuance the script called for in a few spots was lost completely by Ramos’s huge-eyed, gape-mouthed Bratz version of the X-Men.
Abandoned Cars – While Tim Lane is obviously influenced by Charles Burns (with a soupçon of Dan Clowes,) his narrative voice is so clear that comparisons would only come up short. There’s nothing truly groundbreaking here, but this is a book I’ve found myself flipping back through and rereading bits from over the last few days. It’s full of craft, particularly in the shorter vignettes that show the nastier end of noir with a straightforward yet chilling voice. The weakest here is still very readable and well-done, and the stronger pieces are among the best I’ve read this year.
The Mammoth Book of Best Crime Comics – Paul Gravett is one of the best curators that genre comics has and this 25-story collection (along with the previous installments on war and horror books) serves as proof. The episodes collected here come from a wide away of American and European comics and include creators like Paul Grist, Simon and Kirby, Jacques Tardi, Bernie Krigstein, Alan Moore, Alex Toth, oh come on at this point you should have just ordered it.
This is the first time anyone’s used 9/11 in a superhero comic in a way that didn’t make me feel like I needed to wash my hands afterwards. While Vaughan and Harris tried admirably in Ex Machina, Ennis actually manages to make the actions (and inactions) of the series antagonists the point of the story using the events of seven years ago as a plot point, not a crutch to lend a comic book more gravitas than it deserves. Robertson deserves a lot of credit here for his part: he uses some fantastic action shots and facial expressions (particularly the horror, frustration, and fear seen in the eyes of a F-16 pilot in the opening pages) that sell the story on its own merits.
I’ll refer you to Birdie’s review of the book while saying “I told people that it was like a ‘real’ book, not some Chuck Dixon paint-by-numbers plot.”
I got the Supergirl cover, which I quite like, despite the apparent pedo tone that I missed out on.
Patsy Walker: Hellcat #2
It’s easy to be lured in by the fun visuals David Lafuente (with colorist John Rauch) is cranking out – seriously, there’s a two-page spread that rivals Williams on Promethea – but Kathryn Immonen’s script for this second issue is a nice piece of workmanship on its own, trusting the reader to connect a few dots without ever making them feel lost and coming up with at least two laugh-out-loud moments. It’s hard to not like her take on Patsy Walker: a spunky, angst-free superheroine who seems to enjoy her job is a welcome breath of fresh air.
Special Forces #3
For some reason, I left the new Army@Love in my box for Sunday, but this will certainly tide me over in the subtle-as-a-bulldozer-filled-with-dynamite war satire comics department. Baker’s a cartooning wonder, he really is. Some preview images are up on his blog.
1.
Attempting to craft a “new” take on the Legion of Super-Heroes is one of those things that only the truly ambitious or overly continuity-mindful writers attempt. This means, of course, that Geoff Johns was obviously raring to go. However, a lot of credit must go to his efforts here. Novice readers who are only vaguely familiar with the Legion will find this story (in which Superman is flung to the 31st Century to help bring order back to the United Planets) remarkably easy to jump into. While having a little bit of Legion background can help, the author (assisted ably by letterer Rob Leigh) provides brief blurbs to get everyone started as quickly as possible. It’s an approach that’s a bit akin to the JLA character rundown at the beginning of each trade paperback from the 1997 series where everybody got the same sort of description with roughly the same number of words, from Aztek to Batman.
2.
Early on in the story, Johns comes up with a neat way to eliminate the usual “Superman could probably take care of this whole mess in a couple minutes” problem by very deliberately removing his powers. While it’s been done before, it’s always nice to see that Kal-El is still fearless and determined, even when he’s no longer invulnerable and able to shoot high-powered death lasers from his eyes.
3.
Gary Frank’s art starts off a bit rough, particularly on the lead, but he soon asserts himself very well after just saying “Fuck it, I’m going to draw Christopher Reeve as Superman.” He’s always been a very steady sort of artist, without any need for too-fancy layouts or much in the way of forced on-page dynamics, but his work here really breaks out quite a bit. There’s some genuinely pleasing moments that are made downright epic thanks to Frank’s on-page choices. He’ll never be a Kirby or Buscema, but his depictions of action feel very right, and work nicely with The Legion, somewhat sympatico with the Giffen era on the title.
Notice should also be given to the costume redesigns, which are well thought-out and actually a quite bit better than Kitson’s, even if I think the boobhatch for Dawnstar is a bit much. (Yes, I know she’s never been modest, but cleavage that’s exposed for no practical reason is dull after a while.)
4.
I always like it when a superhero comic has moments that make me go a bit fanboy, and this managed to do it several times. Braniac 5′s ego is just this side of outright parody for a key scene, and an important reveal is all the better for it. Similarly, a single sound effect “splok” gave a hilarious action scene just the right bit of kickoff. It’s rare that I get that visceral charge from a superhero comic, and Johns has consistently delivered them in the post-Infinite Crisis material that I’ve read, which includes Superman: Up, Up, and Away, The Sinestro Corps War and this1.
5.
That said, Superman And The Legion Of Super-Heroes does sometimes show where Johns is lacking the touch he brings to superhero mythology. There’s a grating amount of hamfisted xenophobia that makes 80s Claremont look practically restrained, down to Nazi-style armbands, and while the villains are certainly good at doing the “threat and menace” bit, they’re very two-dimensional with the exception of the excruciatingly-named Earth-Man, who has a bit more depth because he actually has something to lose if Superman and his pals win.
5.
One could question the need for yet another version of the Legion, but at this point, it’s sort of a wash. Apparently, there’s some big transdimensional hoo-hah that’s going to happen and considering Johns’s place with the publisher, I suspect this edition of the continually-rebooted superteam will be the new status quo, which is fine by me, the one guy2 who likes the Legion but isn’t obsessive about their continuity.
1Superman: Last Son was flawed (too derivative of cowriter Donner’s film versions, some awkward art by Kubert) but still kept my interest with its assault of Big Things Happening. It was like a Michael Bay Superman film without the 10,000 microcuts in the action scenes.
My, how time has flown on this title. Matty Roth’s recent brattiness could certainly be seen has having some kind of analogue to the more enthusiastic Obama supporters, and the way he’s crossing any number of ethical lines provides for great story fodder. It feels like Wood’s definitely very aware of what he’s doing with the character, and Riccardo Burchielli makes this title one of the most dynamic-looking Vertigo titles in a long, long time.
Fantastic Four: True Story #1
After hearing the good buzz Paul Cornell has received with his MI-13 related books, I thought I’d check this out, without knowing the premise. While “The Fantastic Four travel into the realm of fiction” sounds like an awfully good time, I was left pretty cold by the entire thing. The dialogue (particularly Sue’s, who was the focus of the issue) is clumsy when it’s not being a bit too-cute and even if I like the idea of Of Mice And Men being Ben Grimm’s favorite book, I don’t think I’ll bother with further issues. However, Horacio Domingues’s art is very, very attractive, reminding me a bit of Seth Fisher mixed in with a bit of Linda Medley, and I am certainly going to look out for his work in the future.
Justice League Unlimited #46
I’m going to miss this tie-in comic that was frequently better than it needed to be. The last issue sees John Stewart leading a group of recent Green Lantern recruits (including G’nort)(!!!) against the weaponeers of Qward, who are working with Sinestro to break the universe. So, yeah, that was a lot of fun thanks to Matt Wayne and Carlo Barberi, even if it didn’t feel quite like a JLU comic, instead coming off like a test for an in-universe Green Lantern ongoing.
Liberty Comics
While it’s generally a good idea to pick up these CBLDF books, this one’s a really solid reader value for $4. The Boys, Darwyn Cooke telling the story of a cursed book, a short Criminal story, and some Sergio Aragones and Mark Evanier? Everything else here is gravy. Tasty, tasty gravy.
newuniversal 1959
As I posted on my Twitter feed while reading it, I may have to use my hate rays to murder Kieron Gillen in his sleep. His script is tight and blackly funny in the same way that Ellroy frequently is and while it builds nicely on what Ellis has laid down before, I think this stands up as a nice little slice of a differently paranoid time. I was glad to see that Greg Scott and Kody Chamberlain worked on this – they’ve both done some nice work for BOOM! and I was hoping they’d get a wide audience soon.
Super Friends #5
So, Gorilla Grodd turned every human on the planet into some form of ape or monkey and the Super Friends have to undo the damage he’s done without punching or anything like that because this is a kid’s comic, goddammit. Put in my box by Mike, who knows how I feel about simians, this was one of the better surprises I’ve had from DC in some time. It didn’t feel dumbed down, just a bit “safer” than the usual titles and the restrictions on the creators means that they have to be a bit more creative. While this isn’t going to replace JLU in my pull, I’d not be adverse to reading any further issues.
1.
Unlike movies based on comics stories, films like The Dark Knight, based on characters have free reign to pick and choose. Nolan and his brother (along with David Goyer) choose very, very wisely, taking what works on film and leaving what doesn’t, crafting a straightforward yet appropriately cinematic version of Gotham. It may not be the insane place featured in the comics, but it’s one that chugs right along on film. The script is smart and pleasantly layered without losing the audience with unneccessary convolutions, focusing on ethical and moral areas that haven’t been touched on in the genre, at least not in this intelligent a manner. There were moments in which I was honestly surprised by what I was seeing on film, an unusual sensation when watching a superhero film.
2.
Heath Ledger really is that good. A whirling dervish that’s impossible to remain unengaged by, his Joker kicks Jack Nicholson to the rightly-deserved curb and threatens Caesar Romero as the definitive live-action version. What’s amazing to me is how he makes what would seem like an irresolvable dogpile of quirks, tics, and mannerisms come together so elegantly. It’s a lyrical, savvy performance that makes me regret that he won’t be around for another film, particularly after seeing how well he acted out the ideological battle that’s the core of the movie.
3.
Christian Bale knows how to hit every note that’s placed, from the way Batman’s eyes move to Bruce Wayne’s slightly-slouchy rich-man’s pose. His interaction with the other actors in either role raises the bar for anyone else who puts on a costume and poses on film. He’s a lot like Robert Downey Jr in Iron Man; you can actually see him working through things and decisions without a muscle moving.
4.
The rest of the cast, particularly Aaron Eckhart, are also above-average in their roles. Without giving too much away, I’ll say that Eckhart manages to make you believe in Harvey Dent and the attendant quirk without it seeming comic-booky at all while newcomer to the franchise Maggie Gyllenhaal reminds you how very not-good an actress Katie Holmes is. If you saw Batman Begins, then you know how good Oldman, Freeman, and Caine are in their roles, and i was glad to see them all return, even if two of them were in a slightly-diminished capacity.
5.
I’ll need to see the movie again, but I think it may have just nudged its way into my top ten list, maybe even the top five. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a movie engage my brain this well while having an appropriate number of kicks, punches, and explosions.
I skipped last week. Deal. I’m also gonna skip Godland because it’s in the middle of an alternate universe storyline. I may also skip sobriety if today keeps going like it has been.
Final Crisis: Rogues’ Revenge #1
I’ve never read Geoff Johns’s Flash run, but the character’s gallery of baddies has always appealed to me, and the allure of a more robust Scott Kolins reuniting with the writer transformed a cursory flip-through into an impulse buy. While this title is mired in the recent past of the Flash titles (in particular, the Rogues’ participation in the murder of Bart Allen,) readers like me get all the information they need to actually understand the story presented, even if the events are tied into Morrison’s Final Crisis event. It’s nice to see DCU villains actually feeling penitent for their crimes without actually becoming antiheroes; they enjoy the game and feel it should have rules of conduct, a nice nod to the Silver Age ethos that I sort of miss, particularly in the titles most closely associated with that gee-whiz period.
My only caveat is that Johns once again indulges in the ultraviolence that defines his weaknesses in my head with the return of one villain. While I understand the desire to make sure we know how horrible a criminal is, there’s really no need to show their acts or the amount of blood they generate. While the tonal shift and its impact is obviously done for a reason, I still found it distasteful and, worst of all, lazy.
Marvel Adventures: The Avengers #26
So, in this issue, aliens come to earth demanding to know how we got rid of Galactus because dude’s around the corner and totally hungry and the Avengers are like “Well, Reed Richards did this thing we can’t do again” and the aliens are all like “Oh no” and Captain America is all “Let’s go try to help them out anyway” and they end up playing baseball, chess, and Texas Hold ‘Em for the sake of the aliens who are, by the way, total douchebags. All of that in one nicely-drawn, funny all-ages comic by Jeff Parker, Ig Guara, and crew that doesn’t talk down to the kids one bit.
1.
I read two singles yesterday, 100 Bullets and Young Liars. both were fine installments in longer-form narratives, so there’s not much else to say other than I respectfully disagree with Dorian’s assessment on the latter’s merits, particularly as I think it’s a very David Lapham book, much more so than a Vertigo comic like, say, The Vinyl Underground. (I should note that The Vinyl Underground does give Simon Gane more exposure, which is undoubtedly a good thing.
2.
Jason Aaron’s “The Man In The Pit” is a fantastic single-issue story, making the rest of the The Death Of Wolverine, penned by Mark Guggenheim look pretty humdrum, excluding the hilarious “toy store as front for The Hand” bit. Chaykin’s art, as usual, made me happy, and there’s a slight tweak made to Logan that could potentially make him a bit more interesting if anyone does anything with it.
3. The Complete K Chronicles is freakin’ fantastic. Even in his earliest works, Keith Knight gets to the heart of cultural phenomena and political events in a way that makes me laugh, even if I disagree with him on some point or another.
4.
Blake Bell’s Steve Ditko book is a stunner. I’ve been making my way through it in 20-or-30 page chunks and his writing is so sharp and conveys philosophical and artistic analysis so well that it makes me want to find out if a local gun buyer will let me try before I buy with a single shot to my own brainpan. I’d hate to spend $400 or so on something I’m only going to use once.
1.
I finally finished the first Starman Omnibus and despite Robinson’s occasionally too-purple prose, I now see why so many of my friends have been enamored with the series. For when it came out, it feels downright revolutionary and it would hold up fairly well on the shelves now. I do like the feeling that he’s going for a long game (even if Robinson wants to tell you that he’s planned this out constantly) and that a lot of thought has been put into creation and reimagination versus copyright continuation. The last few issues collected in this volume, where one bad day in Opal City is retold from multiple POVs with Jack Knight running a gauntlet are downright enthralling. I still have to get used to the unusual emphasis Robinson places on words, mind.
2. Ex Machina just got one of those nice hardcover editions from DC and I picked it up on a whim. The book annoys me much less than I remembered (maybe I read it at a bad time?) and once Vaughan drops the whole “here’s a factoid I wrote down in a book and wanted to make sure I used” thing, it’s a well-done science fiction drama. I quite like how DC/Wildstorm’s deluxe hardcover format worked in this case: the first two trade paperbacks for the series are placed together with the original series notes, etc, for a cover price that’s about the same as two of the current-format volumes.
3.
This isn’t something that should be done in all cases (hello, Power Pack), but it shows how DC understands the book marketplace a bit better than Marvel. Whereas the house that Jack, Steve, and Stan built focuses entirely on the current direct market (and movies, but let’s stick to one medium,) DC has proven time and again that they’re better at courting customers in multiple realms. This Ex Machina book is perfect for libraries, where trade paperbacks fall apart fairly quickly, and features not one but two proven properties: the title itself, and Brian K. Vaughan, so the value to retailers is significantly higher than something like the premiere hardcover of Kraven’s Last Hunt (a book that I love, but wouldn’t necessarily recommend as My First Spidey-Story) or Civil War, which has an ephemeral value at best, even with the creative team involved. Add in DC’s relationship with Random House’s distribution arm (which includes more than just being stuck in a catalog: there’s co-op promotion payments, incentives and special offers, returnability making books less risky) versus using Marvel continuing to depend on an overburdened Diamond sales force, and the picture becomes clear: Marvel focuses on the current base in its publishing efforts, DC acts like a business, takes a risk, and expands into other bookselling arenas. I’ll be very curious to see if Marvel makes a similar deal in the next few years once they’ve seen how DC handles some of the book-market issues they’ve not had to tackle in any real way before, such as returns.
4.
Unrelated entirely: The first Inbound, from the Boston Comics Roundtable shows nascent signs of something greater, but stronger editing, a thematic focus, and content that delivered complete stories instead of chapters and excerpts could have done wonders for this book. Highlights for me included Susan Chasen and Dan Mazur’s “The Daytime Sky,” surprisingly charming look at an overweight astrophysicist making an unwelcome discovery, and Hyuun Supul’s awkwardly-dialogued but effective look at humanity in “Deconstruction,” while the office tale “Lending Can Openers” and “After The Plague’s” postapocalyptic drama were fairly standard indie comics stories – nothing bad, per se, but nothing that excited me, even if I really liked Steve Harrison’s art on the first. It’s obvious that “After The Plague” is part of a larger work, but manages to cram in enough mood and character work to feel like a decent piece on its own.
Where Inbound falls apart is group founder Dave Kender’s “The Ragbox, Chapter One,” featuring art by Mark Hamilton. When working in an anthology, creators have only a limited amount of space to hook a reader, and Kender spends nine pages establishing that there’s a fire somewhere in a neighborhood called The Ragbox and that two teenage siblings (one of whom is writing a college essay) are wondering where their parents are. While the second volume of this series will likely continue this story, there’s no hook to keep me interested until then. Part of the problem here is an egregious use of silent panels and too-long, static shots that aren’t interesting, even if it’s obvious that the reader should get a sense of impending something. I understand it’s the first chapter of a longer work, but did it really need to open with a title page of its own, a page showing a fire very slowly growing as curtains are parted, an entire page devoted to two panels of a young woman sleeping, and another 3-panel page in which she opens her eyes suddenly? If it’s part of a graphic novel or whatever, that’s great, but it really does not feel like it fits in an anthology like this at all.
Neither does Jaime Garmendia and Justin Mattarocchia’s horror tale “Body Blues,” one of those newish horror comics that feels more Marilyn Manson shock-rock than Nosferatu and is exactly the sort of thing I avoid like the plague. I’m sure it has its audience; I’m just not a member of it.
On the inside front cover, Kender discusses the book’s inception and the Boston Comics Roundtable as a whole, setting a lofty standard for the group that I’m not sure is on display here. Part of the problem might be the use of an editorial committee – four people putting together an anthology aren’t going to have the same focus as one or two, and I’m sure that everyone wants to maintain an even keel and not upset other creators in the group, which can lead to compromises. That said, even with my reservations, I’m glad that I picked up Inbound and look forward to the next volume, which features some work from creators whose work I know and have enjoyed, such as Cathy Leamy and Charles Schneeflock Snow.
Ellis’s first issue as the new writer of Astonishing is, as these things now have to be, a bit of a “Lights, Please.” While the elements for this storyline – someone who hid themselves during the Scarlet Witch’s “No more mutants,” whozit is offing other members of homo superior – are laid out very nicely, a lot of the issue is devoted to who’s who, what’s what, and oh yeah, they’re not wearing costumes all the time anymore because Ellis doesn’t like them as much as Whedon did. I like that Ellis is using this to tell a different kind of story than the norm for the team, and Simone Biachi’s art, despite a muddy color pallet obscuring details that i think would have had to have been in in the original pencils, does the trick nicely, both as a contrast to John Cassaday’s work on the title previous to this issue, and as the pictorial half of the comics storytelling equation on its own. I’m not sure if I’m sticking around for the singles, but this looks to be something I’ll very much enjoy in trade paperback.
Batman #678
Morrison’s love of old Silver Age stories means that we get the Bat-Radia from “Batman: The Superman Of Planet X” on top of a drug-addled, amnesiac Bruce Wayne wandering the streets of Gotham while the Black Glove systematically destroys his life. It’s so weird and itchy that I can’t help but love it a bit and will even give a little love to Tony Daniel’s art, which actually manages to tell the story well this time around. It’s so weird: sometimes, he’s on-point and then three issues in a row will pass where it looks like he’s copying poses from Wildguard. (I hope that someone at DC thinks to come up with a Batman: RIP companion trade paperback with all these stories Morrison’s referencing. It’d be a really nice way to make sure the readers appreciate his dedication to being bugfuck mental.)
The Boys #20
If there’s ever a course at the community college entitled “How To Make Entertaining Comics Information Dumps (Even If You Shouldn’t Do That),” Garth Ennis would certainly be the professor handling it.
Patsy Walker: Hellcat #1
Kathryn Immonen’s Hellcat feature was the only reason I read the first few issues of the recently-revived (and anemically selling, at least at my retailer) Marvel Comics Presents. While it’d be easy to grouse that the art chores on this aren’t being handled by her talented husband this time around, David Lafuente’s art and John Rauch’s colors make the switch away more than bearable. This may be the most exuberant Marvel book of the last few years: Patsy loves being a superheroine and accepts her Initiative assignment to Alaska with aplomb and humor – her interaction with Tony Stark made me laugh aloud, like you hear about on the internet – while the art practically bounces off the page with funky angles, streamlined shapes, and high-octane colors. Add in dialogue like “I’d like to see your angriest ursines, please,” and you’ve got a comic book I want to read more of.
Squadron Supreme #1
I got no damn idea what’s going on in this. Apparently Ultimate Nick Fury is over in the Squadron Supreme universe because Greg Land got hired to trace a bunch of Victoria’s Secret Models while Bendis and Strazcyznski scripted a crossover last year. I don’t know; I don’t give a damn, not even with Chaykin writing.
1.
The booming tween media market seems to indicate that middle schoolers want stories about high-schoolers (High School Musical) while high-schoolers want to get the adventures of college-aged people (The Hills). For the first time in the line’s brief history, I think a Minx graphic novel has managed to match its central characters (four NYU freshmen) with its audience (young women still in high school.) This isn’t to say that The Re-Gifters and Good as Lily aren’t good, but this is the first book that shows an awareness of who the readers are outside of a vague “Kids, right?”
2.
Brian Wood’s love affair with New York, shown in The Couriers and DMZ, continues and while more cynical comics readers may roll their eyes a bit at his enthusiatic descriptions of locations like Prospect Park (“Designed by the same guy who did the much more famous Central Park in Manhattan, but this is the one he says is his masterpiece,”) the target audience (them again) is likely to find it charming. Personally, I’m crazy in love with the city and liked how he managed to offer captions that were part guidebook, part narrative guideposts.
3.
Ryan Kelly’s art sings. His ability to design believably-attractive young women is the sort of thing that could get him very far if somebody outside of the world of comics takes notice. There’s a little manga, a little Paul Pope, and a lot of black ink slung around to great effect. His on-page pacing and ability to deliver on the dramatic and quiet has never been sharper, and it’s obvious that working with Wood on Local has served as a boot camp of sorts – compare the last issue of that series and this book against his work on Lucifer and the growth is remarkable.
4.
One of Wood’s strengths as a writer is his character work, and it’s interesting to see him play with common tropes of “young adult” fiction. There’s reclusive, text-message-addicted Riley, the lead for this story, whose reunion with her estranged sister leads her to open herself up a bit and befriend the three others; rich, insecure Merissa who uses her sex appeal to get what she wants; Lona Lo, the quiet, grade-obsessed girl with a dark streak and Ren, the tomboy who may or may not be bugfuck crazy. While there may not be a fistful of nuance applied to the dialogue or how the plot plays out, everything’s believable, particularly the character actions and how the story impacts them.
5.
It’s obvious that this is the first in a series, but once again, Minx has not noted this in any way. There’s some storylines hinted at – Lona’s obsession with a professor, Merissa’s problem with maintaining her grades – that are not developed in any meaningful way before the book’s end. Is it that difficult to stick in a Bond-style “The New York Four will return in…Rocktapussy” or something at the end, or just start numbering the spines right off? Maybe they’re a little gunshy about promising a series when there’s an unproven first volume, but it does feel a bit frustrating when you reach the last page and so much is left unanswered.
6.
This is very definitely recommended, particularly for high school librarians. This could be one of those watershed comics for young women, going beyond the manga market.
Morrison continues slapping idea after idea onto the mound that’s piling up and starts using them to move his multi-headed beast of a plot forward. It’s interesting to compare the “let’s tell one story as a whole” approach that this title is using versus the crossover-dependent Secret Invasion. The current audience’s demand for slam-bang action in their mainline superhero epics may make them impatient for Morrison’s holistic approach to the complete story unit, especially if the “competition” (really, does it have to be one?) is dropping helicarriers out of the sky and showing your favorite heroes punching Skrulls for plot beats in the main title and letting all of the character change and story take place elsewhere. I know which one I prefer.
No Hero #0
Another metafictional superhero series by Warren Ellis, this time focusing on the toll that getting powers can take on someone? Really? Surprisingly, this one feels fresh. With Avatar, Ellis seems to be applying a more refined approach than previously, honing his clipped, precise scripting on a single target. Black Summer asked “What happens when a superman who wants to make the world better takes it one step too far?” No Hero‘s question is right in its tagline – “How much do you want to be a superhuman?” – with a brutal eight-page visit to the world that counterculture icon Carrick Masterson’s created and some backup material that, typeface aside, manages to fire a few new cylinders and opens up quite a few storytelling possibilities. For a buck, you could do much, much worse.
Per Dash Shaw’s recommendation at the beginning, I paced my reading of the book, taking in each of its three parts on a separate evening, and finished it just a few moments before writing this. It sounds so well-trod: an aging couple gathers the clan together one last time to announce their divorce after 40 years, but Dash Shaw’s deceptively primitive art and use of new layout and pacing techniques on the page, when combined with some brilliantly naturalistic, casual dialogue that still managed to say something with every line, has produced a book that is easily the best graphic novel of the year so far. It’s a million little moments that create a greater whole, a triumph of the form that is going to echo in my mind for quite some time. Bottomless Belly Button is a book that made me laugh, think, smile, and finally, over a ten-page sequence at the end, weep like I’ve not in a very, very long time.
This 720-page book has delivered on the promise that so many other examples of the medium have whispered in my ear, from Eisner’s A Contract With God to Bechdel’s Fun Home. Of course, it’s not quite perfect – no book with this much ambition could ever be – but that only magnifies the sense of honesty and forthrightness that informs the work throughout. Dash Shaw may be an artist and storyteller of the highest caliber, but his work here is refreshingly free of facade or ironic distance. Recommended very, very highly. In fact, this may be the Great American Graphic Novel I’d been waiting so long for.
This week was one of the textbook examples of “Not Much Goin’ On For Ol’ Kevin” in the singles. Only three titles found their way into my bag, and I’m not going to talk about one of them because what can someone say about the middle chapter of a DMZ storyline other than “Brian Wood seems to know what he’s doing with this”? So, here’s…
Anna Mercury #2
There’s a very good bit in this issue that shows how Ellis manages to nail characters in ways that are almost subliminal. The director of Anna Mercury’s agency explains what’s going on to the new governmental leader. It involves parallel worlds, strange physics, and Anna Mercury’s role in making sure the status quo is kept. He’s impatient, unable to explain everything in soundbites, and leaves the poor man flummoxed as hell, much like the readers, and that’s good enough. We sort of have a vague idea what’s going on, now let’s get back to Anna shooting the hell out of people. Yes, it’s got bits of Planetary in its DNA, particularly when you compare Anna to Jakita Wagner, but it’s got just enough new stuff to convince me to pick up the eventual trade.
Marvel Adventures Avengers #25
Jeff Parker + Arnim Zola = Love. Yes, it’s just that simple. Ig Guara’s art has a few moments where it just shines, particularly around the comedic beats, even if his action storytelling needs just a bit of work. This single issue perfect example of light superhero entertainment that is very comfortable with what it is and manages to engage readers at just about any possible age group. Here’s a preview so you can figure out if you want to pick it up next week.
Wow, this is short this week. I better come up with something that’ll earn those links.
I’m finally getting a bit of a chance to sit down with the haul from MoCCA and really dive into things. Funnily enough, the first thing I grabbed was actually something that debuted at last year’s San Diego Comic-Con, not at the show. 5 is a sort-of-jam comic by Becky Cloonan, Fabio Moon, Gabriel Ba, Rafael Grampa, and Vasilis Lolos where these indie artists all tell fanciful stories about each other. Ba, for instance, gives us a version of Becky Cloonan that’s released from prison and is adjusting to life outside while Lolos shows Grampa fighting evil with the power of comics. It’s a well-produced object, with a gorgeous wraparound cover and a paper stock that lets the high-contrast black and white art these creators revel in shine. It’s $4.50 on Khepri, or look for Cloonan and pals at San Diego this year, as they should have some left.
The first four issues of Elijah Brubaker’s Reich are sublime examples of the biographical comic. There’s a minimal amount of presentation here: Brubaker’s sure enough to let his material do the talking with footnotes at the end providing context when it’s needed, and I admire his ability to have Reich’s erratic, obsessive nature just be without any real explanation. The distorted, cartoonish figures with their huge heads atop disproportionate bodies are an artistic tic that many can’t pull off, but Brubaker manages it with great aplomb, with excellent architectural and background details selling the world as a whole. You can order the issues from Sparkplug books, or look for them at the San Diego Comic-Con as well.
I’m fairly sure that regular readers here know how I feel about David Mamet’s work. Even with all of his obvious quirks (the elliptical dialogue technique “borrowed” by Brian Michael Bendis,) and faults (the remarkable inability to create a female character that’s believable,) Mamet consistently does more to make the writer-portions of my brain sing than any other writer-slash-director working. I’ll champion movies like the underappreciated Spartan as if I were their father and when his material disappoints me, such as in the loathsome and excruciating Edmond, I take it as a personal affront.
In other words, it’s very, very weird for me to walk out of one of his films with something like mixed feelings for the work, but that’s exactly what happened this afternoon when I saw Redbelt.
The brief version of the plot: Chiwetel Ejiofor plays Mike Terry, an honor-bound, financially-strapped jujitsu trainer that finds himself involved in a typically Mametian plot. It begins with an accidentally-fired gun and a Hollywood star involved in a nightclub fight, passes through a flirtation with the film industry, works in getting screwed by completely unprincipled fight promoters, and ends with a well-handled fight for not only Terry’s honor, but that of the martial arts he holds so dear.
Everyone in this film – with the notable exception of Rebecca Pidgeon (whose sole purpose seems to be appearances in films made by her husband) does an impressive job with the material they’re handed. Mamet’s emblematic dialogue, particularly when he’s directing, is not easy on actors: repetitive and stripped to the point where the absence of nuance becomes its own trope, but the cast, including Emily Mortimer and Tim Allen (who I’m glad to see actually acting versus being a Disney Corporate Puppet) alongside mainstays like David Paymer and Ricky Jay, hold up their end of things with nary a grumble. The centerpiece, however, belongs to Chiwetel Ejiofor, who’s the sort of actor I love, able to convey emotion and thought without opening his mouth or making exaggerated facial expressions, it’s easy to see why Mamet picked him as Mike Terry.
So, what’s the problem? That’s the bugaboo – I can’t really go into it without spoiling the film’s ending and I loathe spoilers, spoiler-devoted websites, people who issue them, and the DC Comics character of the same name (albeit for an entirely different reason.) Suffice it to say that where Mamet normally goes for the unconventional and clever, the resolution to Terry’s travails is far too simple for the amount of buildup the viewer experiences, particularly after its revealed how deep the plot against him goes. For a good 90% of the film’s running time, I was very pleased with what was being unfolded in front of me. The unlikely, near-random turn of events in the dojo that occur very early in the picture and the amount of coincidence and good fortune that comes Terry’s way may have been scented with incredulity, but I accepted it as I accepted The Spanish Prisoner and House of Cards and their unlikely setups because the end result, the final knife-twist in those pictures, it brings everything together.
But this time, it…doesn’t, but it does. It provides the kind of finale that Mamet’s never done before, one that’s closer to The Karate Kid than Heist and even if it feels as if Mamet thinks he’s done the work, it’s strangely unsatisfying. A stretched metaphor would be if you took a first-class flight to Paris, got a luxurious limousine ride to your hotel, checked into an opulent room, and were then informed that the only food you’d be allowed to eat was McDonald’s. While it’s not quite the final-act disaster that movies like Sunshine have become known for, it’s still disappointing.
Even with all of that said, there’s an awful lot to like about the final product. Mamet shows signs of directorial growth in several scenes, opting for quiet over chatter in a few key moments, thereby letting his actors tell the story with their bodies and faces with unheard dialogue, and giving the audience a break from his rat-a-tat wordplay. Perhaps even more surprising is Emily Mortimer’s portrayal of an attorney who finds herself being taught by Terry – she comes mighty close to being the first female character in a Mamet film that I like, which can be nothing but a good sign as far as I’m concerned.
