I took my daughter Avery to see her first in-theater movie on Monday. We saw Inside Out.  Sure, I loved the movie, but I loved even more how much Avery loved the experience of sitting in a deep theater seat with a Joy figurine in her cup holder and her own bag of popcorn in her lap, pieces of popcorn impatiently passing her lips, while watching an emotional atom bomb of a movie explode on an impossibly large screen. I loved her perfectly-timed giggly glances; I loved how we turned to one another with tears in our eyes and how she held onto my arm, her head on my shoulder until the end.

But the excitement of the afternoon didn’t end there. We were on the road talking about our favorite parts of the movie when–noticing in the rearview mirror that she wasn’t fiddling with her Joy figurine–I paused to ask if she had remembered to grab Joy on the way out of the theater. She said she had forgotten Joy, that she had left her in the cup holder!  As expected, in Joy’s absence, Sadness took over: Avery started bawling. “I want Joy!” were the only words that rose above the sobs. I promised her that I’d turn back and that we’d save Joy; I told her that this was going to be our journey, one not unlike the journey that Joy herself went on to save Riley. We met with a few obstacles–including an antagonistic red left turn arrow, which didn’t give a green that we were in a rush, skipping over us once as the lights cycled round the intersection; and a stubborn garbage truck that simply refused to get out of our way as it seemed to contemplate the value of each off ramp before finally choosing one–the one that immediately preceded the ramp to which we were racing.

Once in the multiplex lobby, we presented a stub to a ticket taker and explained our plight. She wished us luck and we ranranran–we knew the way–straight ahead, to the left, last theater on the right, which had–uh oh!–already started–oh no!–letting people in for the next showing. I hopedhopedhoped that some sticky-fingered kid hadn’t already found Avery’s Joy and sadly made it his own, that we weren’t going to be stuck with a sad ending–with a blue-tinged core memory. I was ready, however, to ask around–to plead; to pay, as necessary–if Joy wasn’t where Avery had left her. Luckily, no one was sitting in the row we had sat in, but the row below it was filled with kids, most of whom were most assuredly sticky fingered already! I got nervous as we climbed the steps and revisited our row. I stuck my hand in every blinking cup holder in that flipping row; and wouldn’t you know: no Joy. I turned to Avery and told her, “She’s not here, baby girl.” “I want my Joy,” she cried. She caught the attention of the kids and the adult in the row just below us. I asked them if they had happened to find a Joy figurine as they found their seats.   They apologized. I told Avery to wait right there and I got on my hands and knees. I reached under the seats that I supposed had been ours and knocked pieces of popcorn here and there; and as I did so, one of the kids in the row below reached over his seat and used his cellphone as a flashlight, illuminating the freakishly florescent popcorn–a lot of popcorn–did any popcorn make its way into Avery’s mouth?–and, amongst the kernels, Avery’s Joy. “Daddy saves the day!” celebrated the adult, probably a mom, who understood the import of the moment. I handed the figurine to Avery, thanked the clever kid with the cellphone, scooped Avery up and skipped down the steps. “Are you happy, baby?” “Uh huh. Can we go home now?” “We sure can.”

As we drove home, we were talking about our favorite parts of the movie and how cool it was that we had a journey of our own when–noticing in the rearview mirror that she was playing with Joy–I paused to say, “I love you, Avery.” She said, “I love you, too. I had fun on our date, Daddy.” “On our date?” I laughed. “I did, too, baby girl. I did, too.”

Boy, I can’t wait for a comic book to have that same effect on us.  Hmm.  Maybe one of these’ll do the trick:

• Archie Vs. Predator #4 (Dark Horse)
• Fight Club 2 #3 (Dark Horse)
• Frankenstein Underground #5 (Dark Horse)
• Mind MGMT #35 (Dark Horse): I&N Demand I cried plenty during Inside Out–and, full disclosure, during the volcanic short that preceded it.  You know: lava, tears.  My investment in those weren’t nearly the investment I have in Mind MGMT.  We’re two issues away from my being reduced to nerd jerky.  Speaking of being reduced: poor Meru!  She’s been laid out; her future’s in question–she’s on the brink!–and a cute K-9 strapped with C-4 has come to her rescue.  Yeah, Mind MGMT. is. about.  to. blow. up!  Cue tears.
  

Mind MGMT #35

• We Are Robin #2 (DC)
• Sidekick #11 (Image)
• Stray Bullets: Sunshine and Roses #6 (Image)
• Wolf #1 (Image): Just I&N Ales Kot is comic’s most compelling read–as long as he’s in his own world.  Lucky for us, Wolf‘s his.  Anticipate crime noir like you’ve never read befoir: a stream a flood of consciousness that’ll leave you drowning in daddy issues.  Or.  Maybe.  Not.  Heck, I’m imagining Brubaker and Phillips’ Criminal on ‘shrooms; Miller’s Sin City on youthful arrogance.  Whatever the result, I’m pretty confident that we’re in for a treat–a dust-laced Milk Bone, perhaps?

Wolf #1

• Magneto #20 (Marvel)
• The Disciples #2 (Black Mask): I&N Demand A solid first issue’s worth of exposition–which never seemed to drag despite the conspicuous lack of action–with a shared WTF? hook at the end sold me on this slice of sci-fi horror from Steve Niles and Christopher Mitten.  Reminded a bit of Garth Ennis’s recently-wrapped Caliban (Avatar), which ended up being really good.  So, yeah, I’m ready for more.
  

The Disciples #2

• Mayday #4 (Black Mask): I&N Demand “Chaos reigns,” indeed!  Curt Pires is lighting fires and is letting them burn down everything in sight!  Has been solidly amorphous through three.  I sure as hell hope the end note follows suit–by shooting the massive expectations that have been built up after three idiosyncratic issues in the effing head.
  

Mayday #4

Avery’s Pick of the Week

• My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic #32 (IDW): Have I mentioned that Avery loves her Ponies?  If Applejack’s featured, all the better.  Guarantees that Grammy’s going to mention–again–that her father’s CB handle was Applejack.  Gosh, Avery just loves that little tidbit of information!

My Little Pony #32

What are you looking forward to this week?

Turning pages,

Scott

My weekly haul: is it getting better?

I say: #1 love/#1 life/When it’s #1 need in the night/It’s #1 love.

You, too?

I hope they don’t disappoint me/or leave a bad taste in [my] mouth.

The way to make sure that doesn’t happen: follow my advice to my youngest: we read comics, we don’t eat comics.  That girl–my youngest–is a serial cover ripper; she’s Paige the Ripper.  Yeah, it’s name destiny.

• Harrow County #3 (Dark Horse): Suffering from witch hangover?  Wait.  Slightly different, but better: Suffering from witchdrawal?  Of course you are.  So what if Bunn’s a bit late to the black mass?  Here’s the skinny: his brew’s bubbling over with enough interesting notes–some familiar, some familial–to draw me in for another evil–and, thanks to Tyler Crook, beautiful–ladle-full.  On one warted hand: it ain’t Sabrina, that’s for damn sure.  On the other: it ain’t Wytches–thank Satan.  My one fear: it’s going to drag on for no good reason.
• Rebels #4 (Dark Horse): Have Mercy!  Re: #3: Wood slowed things down–a lot–in order to deliver a backwoods backstory, in order to develop further–and, ultimately, sell–Seth, whose narration is equal parts addition and subtraction.  Wood generally uses narration to great effect–as seen in the recently-put-to-rest The Massive; but here, it’s a bit uneven, perhaps a result of the temporal trip, which, plays as one step back and one step forward, leaving us, in the end, kind of where we started.  That’s not what I signed up for, but I’m marching on.
• Negative Space #1 (Dark Horse):  Ryan Lindsay and Owen Gieni had me with “writer’s block [getting] in the way of [a] suicide note.”  That brand of pathetic is my morning sun!  The simplicity of the idea–despite its dour note–inspires.  The rest of the premise (uncovering conspiracies, blah, blah–a potential Duh Vinci Code facsimile) could be a conveyor belt of clouds with cruel designs on my otherwise perfect day of unspoiled pessimism.  It could turn Colder; it could play a bit like Neverboy; hey, it could also grow into its own thing.  That’s why we read ’em, folks.
• The Tomorrows #1 (Dark Horse): Curt Pires is killing it on Black Mask’s Mayday; as a result, he’s earned Must Try status.  Throw in a Zero-tolerance approach to the art duties–a different artist on each issue–and I’m ready to throw it in my bag without looking.  Regarding the premise, Previews hands down the following sentence: “The future: Art is illegal.”  Reminds of the most recent issue of Low, which was ridiculously good–a highpoint for the series, no doubt.  More of a turn on than a turn off.
• Injection #3 (Image): #1 was a whole lot of What?  Plenty was drawn up; but in the end, Ellis and Shalvey’s singular thumb was poised smugly on the plunger with no clear sign that it was ready to push.  #2, however, brought the Injection for which I was hoping: it hit like an issue of Moon Knight.  Considering how great their short run was–how special their storytelling was–it would’ve been a shame if they didn’t hit some of the same narrative notes.
• Saga #30 (Image): Throwing death around like the book’s in its death throes.  Unfortunately, the great Saga hasn’t been great of late.  The big page turns aren’t as big as they used to be; the irreverent moments don’t support the emotional bombs like they used to.  Yeah, the surprise is gone, the excitement gone; it’s missionary, once a month.
• Starve #2 (Image): I&N Demand I love the desperation, the arrogance of Wood’s first course.  I love that Chef Cruikshank’s not so different in spirit from Callum Israel and that Zezelj’s art is a massive leap from–yet reminds of–his work on The Massive, which I miss so much.  I love the Heart of Darkness-ish riff on hunger and Wood’s fileting of foodies and chef celebs.  So, yeah, I guess I liked #1 enough to try another.  Cut me off another piece, man–I’m starving!
  

Starve #2

• Archie #1 (Archie): Just I&N Seems like an obvious choice for our Just I&N pick of the week, doesn’t it?  Think about it: there’s really no other choice.  Mark Waid and Fiona Staples have paired up to remake Riverdale!  Sure, Afterlife With Archie and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina have already altered the Archieverse in unexpected ways; but–using DC’s Multiverse as a frame of reference–they’re set in Riverdale-2.  This is the Riverdale; this is classic Archie–the Archie–getting a modern makeover.  This is a huge undertaking, you know, with a world–one born in 1941–in the balance.  This, folks, is exciting.
  

Archie #1

• Bloodshot: Reborn #4 (Valiant): Speaking of exciting: this one ain’t.  Therapist couch revelation: Bloodsquirt makes me want to hurt myself.  Ugh!  Just thinking about him makes my blood boil!  I may have to pass, if only to protect myself.  I hate typing it: it’s further proof that Jeff Lemire has trouble connecting with his characters and with his audience outside of his creator-owned work.
• Death Sentence: London #2 (Titan): Re: #1: Montynero’s energy is infectious, and Martin Simmonds’ art harnesses it well.  Together, they’ve delivered a solid extension of the original series.
• Providence #2 (Avatar): I&N Demand Re: #1: Patient and precise storytelling from Alan Moore.   It’s exposition at its finest.  You get the sense that Mr. Moore is in complete control, and it feels frighteningly good: his dialogue delivers what it needs to, just enough to feed curiosity; his transitions are sharp as a ritual dagger; but the most powerful proof: the four-panel bookends that are page one and page twenty-six.
  

• The Sadhu: Birth of the Warrior #1 (Graphic India): Why the hell not?  The premise has me thinking Orwell’s “Shooting an Elephant” gone mystical.  Chuck Dixon’s doing the wordy work, so I’m on board.
• Strange Fruit #1 (BOOM!): The water and the tension are rising in this period piece from Mark Waid and J.G. Jones.  I wonder if Waid’s wading in the racist river of 1920s Mississippi in response to the roiling race relations that have been plaguing us of late or if this has been in the works for a while.  Even though Waid’s social-issue-of-the-month approach to Daredevil hurt Ol’ Horn Head more than a brawl with Bullseye, I’m willing to give this one a go because I know what I’m getting into–and it’s probably going to be pretty good.
• Transference #1 (Black Mask): Yeah: grab it before you can’t.  Why?  Not because of Michael Moreci (I haven’t loved his stuff).  Certainly not because it’s a time-travel comic (that’s right, time-travel fans, it’s another time-travel comic!).  Here’s the big because: it’s a Black Mask book!  Count ’em, kids: #1: We Can’t Go Home.  #2: Mayday.  #3: The Disciples.  #4: Space Riders.  Really good stuff.  It’d be foolish not to try this one.

Avery’s Pick of the Week

• Scooby-Doo! Where Are You? #59 (DC): Avery loves Shaggy.  Perhaps I should start worrying now.

Scooby-Doo Where Are You? #59

What are you looking forward to this week?

Turning pages,

Scott