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Back & Forth: Hail the Future Heroes of Yesteryear!

26 Tuesday Mar 2013

Posted by dmainhart in Back and Forth

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2001: A Space Odyssey, 48 Hours, Adventure Time, Archer & Armstrong, Betty Page, Bravest Warriors, Buddy Cops, Chris Samnee, Cliff Secord, Dark Horse Comics, Darwyn Cooke, Dave Stevens, Dirty Money, Emanuela Lupacchino, Eric Stephenson, Evan Shaner, Fab Four, Fantastic Four, Fonografiks, Fred the Clown, Fred Van Lente, Guillermo Ortego, IDW, Indiana Jones, J. Bone, Jack Kirby, Jeff Smith, Joey Comeau, Jonathan Hickman, Jordie Bellaire, kaboom!, Lethal Weapon, Lisa Moore, Mark Waid, Michael Caine, Mike Holmes, Nate Bellegarde, Nate Crosby, Nick & Nora, Nowhere Men, Robert Osborne, Roger Langridge, Rush Hour, Ryan Pequin, Snarked, Stan Lee, Stanley Kubrick, Starsky and Hutch, TCM, Terry Pratchett, The Beatles, The British Invasion, The Da Vinci Code, The Rocketeer, The Rocketeer: Hollywood Horror, The Rocketeer: The Cargo of Doom, The Thin Man, The Thing, Uranus, Valiant, Wu-Tang Clan

Derek Mainhart: Friends, mutants and aliens, lend me your ears! Join us as we travel back to the future, to a time when heroes roamed the sky and science paved the way for a better tomorrow! A time of ancient robots and futuristic gladiators! Atomic monkeys and electric guitars! Beckoned by the spark of a holographic welder’s torch, we hurtle forward into history to meet our retro-destiny! Like sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of Our Future Past…

A 1930s pulp hero created in the 1980s and revived in the 2000s? Who better to exemplify nostalgia for an innocent era that never was than The Rocketeer? Like his contemporary Depression-era adventurer, Indiana Jones, Dave Stevens’ legendary creation peddled in, and paid homage to, the wanton exuberance of classic B-movie serials. Stevens’ buoyant, uncynical cliffhangers (hell, the lead character’s name is Cliff) combined with his lush illustration (its classic draftsmenship itself like a relic from a bygone era) to inspire a devoted cult following. And let’s not forget his masterstroke; making pin-up queen, Betty Page, Cliff’s girlfriend. Stevens’ work was so accomplished, it seemed superfluous for anyone else to try their hand at the character, even after his untimely death in 2008.

Some characters however, are simply too good to fade away. Happily IDW has relaunched The Rocketeer, giving the hero his due: first in an anthology series featuring top-flight creators, then in a four-issue mini by creative team par excellence, Mark Waid and Chris Samnee. Now we have Roger Langridge and J Bone on The Rocketeer: Hollywood Horror. Folks, this may be the best new Rocketeer yarn yet. The previous stories tried (and succeeded to various degrees) to recapture the inherent nostalgia of the character via an innocent, never-say-die tone indicative of 1930s and ’40s Americana, perhaps casting it against a major historical backdrop like, say, WWII. Well Langridge goes five steps further and fully immerses him in the era. This should perhaps come as no surprise from a writer whose past work has encompassed everything from the slapstick of early cinema (Fred the Clown, hysterical) to Carrollian nonsense (Snarked!, inspired) to his current work, the vaudevillian, high-seas adventures of Popeye (a gift to anyone with an appreciation for the history of the medium). For The Rocketeer, he’s not satisfied to present his tale in a typical one-size-fits-all B-movie slang; rather he seems conversant in a variety of era-specific patois and idiom. Further, he entangles our hero with fictional characters specific to that time: first, the minions of Doc Savage (that greatest of pulp heroes), and then, seemingly apropos of nothing, Nick and Nora (and Asta!) from the venerated Thin Man film series. Between this and the multitude of references to old movies and forgotten actors (the narrator himself seems to be one), this book is a dream for lovers of pulp and classic Hollywood. It would be right at home being introduced by Robert Osborne on TCM. And let’s not forget J Bone’s pitch-perfect art. His bold, cartoony rendering immediately cues dirigibles, De Soto’s and dames. His work stands well with Darwyn Cooke and Jeff Smith (one wishes he was handling the covers as well; nothing against the legendary Walt Simonson, but his style, all harsh angles and frenetic line, is simply a poor fit – my one quibble). All in all Langridge and Bone are crafting a Rocketeer comic that is not only worthy of its legacy, but builds on it. Somewhere, I daresay, Dave Stevens is smiling.

Scott Carney: Geez, yeah, all that and–  OK, who am I kidding?  I’m not as tuned  into the history of The Rocketeer as you are.  (Is anyone?)  In fact, my first experience with the character was The Cargo of Doom.

DM: Oh, trust me; there are people who know way more about The Rocketeer than I do. What about the movie? Ring a bell?

SC: There was a movie?

DM: I can’t even.

SC: No, really, I liked what Waid and Samnee did in their mini.  If I’m being honest, I bought the series for them; and for the most part, I wasn’t disappointed; but I wasn’t all of a sudden a Rocketeer fan.  As far as I was concerned, it was an act of loyalty–to the creators; and if they were to take on the character again, I’d be there.  Wasn’t planning on ever following the further adventures of Cliff Secord.  In fact, I passed on this one–initially, anyway.  You recommended it–emphatically, if I’m remembering correctly–so I picked it up.  Dude, you were so right.  What a good time!  Through two, I’m thinking, like you, that Hollywood Horror is at a whole other level, thanks to Langridge’s vision and Bone’s fleshing it all out.

DM: Next up in our Canyon of Heroes is Archer and Armstrong #8 (Valiant). Their centuries-spanning pseudo-epic is rich in taste but refreshingly light in calories. Part buddy-story, part sibling-rivalry, part worldwide-conspiracy, this frothy fable features improbable adventure and high satire. It’s like The Da Vicni Code as written by Terry Pratchett. Writer Fred Van Lente (with solid art by Emanuela Lupacchino and Guillermo Ortego) garnishes the high-octane action with Big Ideas and comedic flourish, never failing to entertain. His one misstep here though; in an attempt to counter the usual lighthearted tone with some emotional heft, he has the villain speak of his role in an event that is very like a recent national tragedy. My immediate reaction, for what it’s worth, was a discomfiting “too soon.”  Again, this is a quibble, lasting as it does for all of one panel. Month in, month out, we write about the pleasures delivered by Van Lente & Co.’s work on this book. So pick the damn thing up, if you haven’t already.

Scott Carney: I know you’re glad I picked up Buddy Cops (Dark Horse) for you after your initial pass.

Buddy Cops #1

Buddy Cops #1

DM: Yeah it was all right I guess…

SC: “All right”?  That’s quite an understatement, my friend!  Sure, Buddy Cops–an hilarious one-shot from a publisher that has been making its name seem more and more ironic with each passing week–seemed to come out of nowhere.  In fact, it was an “Oh, and by the way” recommendation from one of my shop guys.  (That’s right: I have more than one.)  There was room enough in my bag and a few bucks still smoldering in my pocket, so I went for it; and I was not disappointed.  As promised, Nate Crosby and Evan Shaner deliver “da muthaf***in’ ruckus” in this crack-a-panel homage-slash-send up of the buddy cop genre.  The ready-to-rumble, Wu-Tang spoutin’ Uranus and the electrode-in-the-mud T.A.Z.E.R. are on the case–three of ’em, in fact–and take on outrageous creatures (including, a ninety-foot-tall orangutan in a monk’s robe, who professes precariously, “da lord iss my sligshot,” while sitting atop a church) and social issues (Gay marriage!  Arbortion!) in one giant “monsterswat!”  They are Riggs and Murtaugh from Lethal Weapon; they are Carter and Lee from Rush Hour; they are Hammond and Cates from 48 Hours; they are Starsky and Hutch from, well, Starsky & Hutch–the T.V. show, dammit!  But despite their being so obviously and so proudly derivative, they’re the freshest pair to hit the funny pages in recent memory.  I laughed out loud and profess my love for this book even louder!  And, borrowing from George Costanza, I say this with an unblemished record of staunch heterosexuality: I hope this isn’t the last I’ll get to see of Uranus.

DM: Ok, ok, it was funny. Yeesh!  Even so, it wasn’t even the funniest book this week, at least for my money.

SC: Keep your dirty money!

DM: Would that I could. But the biggest barrel o’ laffs this week was Bravest Warriors #6 (kaboom!). This time out, our future science heroes are knee-deep in bazookas, beauty pageants and brain transplants; and that doesn’t even scratch the surface. Joey Comeau’s story takes beloved sci-fi tropes and makes mincemeat out of them. And having his hysterically depraved scenarios drawn by Mike Holmes in the faux-naive, child-friendly style of Adventure Time (saturated in pretty, pretty colors by Lisa Moore)  just makes the whole thing seem so, so wrong. (Ditto Ryan Pequin’s giggle-inducing back-up story). The absurdity in this book is so ridiculous, it’s almost profound.

Of course the book that did more than any to bring science adventurers to the modern era was Jack Kirby and Stan Lee’s Fantastic Four. Emphasis on mod. After fifty-plus years of history, it’s easy to forget that these staples of the spinner rack were once downright cutting edge. As Pop Art was breaking the boundaries between ‘fine’ and ‘low’ art, Kirby was exploding the restrictive design of the comics page. In the midst of the Space Race, the costumed quartet were frequent fliers. And at the height of the British Invasion, Lee and Kirby gave comics its own Fab Four. Those early issues still crackle with energy and freshness. As the years wore on however, FF inevitably transitioned from zeitgeist to nostalgia, revolutionary to venerable.

Now Eric Stephenson and Nate Bellegarde have dusted off the elements that made FF great and reconfigured them (along with a whole bunch of other stuff) to create Nowhere Men (Image), a decidedly 21st century comic. The story (with the tagline ‘Science is the New Rock-N-Roll’) concerns four celebrity scientists (bearing more than a passing resemblance to The Beatles) who banded together in the ’60s, forming a mega-conglomerate called World Corp dedicated to the betterment of mankind. In the present however, they’ve long since gone their separate ways, due to ego clashes, differing visions, (sound familiar?) as well as mysterious circumstances that haven’t been fully revealed yet. One or all of them are also somehow involved in the fate of a space crew whose mission has somehow gone seriously awry.

Here the comparison to FF is particularly instructive: where Kirby and Lee, reflective of their age, presented a utopian faith in scientific progress, Stephenson and Bellegarde present a view that is, not cynical exactly, but knowing, tempered by an awareness of human weakness and fallibility. The innocence of scientific discovery for its own sake has been replaced by the reality of serving corporate profit. Technological advancement is understood as at least as destructive as it is creative. For example, in FF the group is testing an experimental rocket when they are struck by ‘cosmic rays’ endowing them with superpowers, which they promptly use to protect humanity (with the monstrous Thing serving as tragic, though still noble, counterpoint). In Nowhere Men, we have a group of scientists quarantined in a space station due to a ‘sickness’ they’ve contracted under mysterious circumstances. The effects of the sickness affect each individual randomly, even capriciously, as some are granted ‘abilities’ (as opposed to ‘superpowers’) while others undergo grotesque transformations that make the Thing look like Michael Caine in comparison. And some are in between (one of the more appealing characters seems to combine the brute strength and appearance of the Thing with the intellectual remove of Mr. Fantastic). Where one offered limitless promise, the other deals in disillusionment; even the title seems to suggest it.

This is far from a hopeless affair however. For one, the sheer inventiveness of the storytelling will not allow it. In addition to alternating between the past and present, Stephenson’s elliptical narrative is fragmented amongst various viewpoints. Only now, in this fourth issue, are its non-linear elements beginning to coalesce (I didn’t even feel comfortable reviewing the thing ’til now). But that’s not all. The very presentation of information is unorthodox. In the current issue for example, Stephenson thinks nothing of inserting three pages of prose – an excerpted ‘chapter’ from a tell-all history of World Corp – right in the middle of the action. This not only serves as a clever transition, but adds visual depth to the story, as the chapter is presented in a specific graphic style that convincingly suggests the late ’70s / early ’80s. Where FF‘s brash, boundary-breaking style was in keeping with the modern sensibilities of its era, Nowhere Men‘s approach is distinctly postmodern, befitting our own fractured time.

Which brings us to perhaps the most notable aspect of the book: its design. FF had the kinetic genius of Kirby’s art. Nowhere Men instead employs the principles of sophisticated modern graphic presentation. The clean, cold concision of Bellegarde’s art is impressive enough. But it is packaged, along with the aforementioned textual pieces, faux ads and information graphics, in a carefully considered manner that takes into account the comic book as an object. The refined aesthetic has been compared, aptly, to Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 masterpiece, 2001: A Space Odessey.  Fonografiks, the company responsible for the look of the book, is really to be commended; I only wish the name of the specific designer was credited. The inside covers, the selection of fonts, the credits; all act in concert to create a visually immersive experience that reinforces the incidents of the story. When was the last time the design of a comic played such a concerted, integral role in the narrative?

FF has had any number of interesting runs over the years (Jonathan Hickman just finished up a pretty good one at that). But the true successor to Kirby and Lee’s vision, innovation and cultural relevance is Nowhere Men.  Book of the Week.

 Turning pages,

Derek & Scott

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Back and Forth: Warriors and Witches

23 Saturday Feb 2013

Posted by ScottNerd in Back and Forth

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Alan Moore, Archer & Armstrong, Archimedes, AvX, Batman, Battlefields, Before Watchmen, Brian Azzarello, Brian Michael Bendis, Chris Bachalo, Comedian, Cyclops, DC Comics, Dynamite Entertainment, Ed Brubaker, Emanuela Lupacchino, Fatale, Fred Van Lente, Fury: My War Gone By, Garth Ennis, Gene Luen Yang, Goran Parlov, Grant Morrison, Greg Capullo, Guillermo Ortego, Harper Row, Heart of Darkness, IDW, Image, J.G. Jones, Jack Kirby, Joe Sacco, Joker, Josephine Baker, Larry Gonick, Mad Magazine, Marvel, Matrix, New Gods, Olive Oil, Popeye, Punisher, Rambo, Roger Langridge, Russ Braun, Samuel Jackson, Scott Snyder, Sean Phillips, Uncanny X-Men, Vince Musacchia, Watchmen, we, white man?

Scott Carney: The year’s most highly anticipated book–Batman #17–danced its way onto shop shelves, into our bags, and into our hands; and with every page turn, the story stumbles, trips and tumbles, and falls–along with the intolerably loquacious and ultimately uninspired Joker–from that lofty height of over-hyped expectations into a chasm of mediocrity–into a downright forgettable yawn. You know exactly what I mean. This stunningly inconsequential storyline–with a title that serves only to describe metaphorically what has befallen the Batfamily–delivers a punchline so impotent that I’m left wondering whether or not I will bother with the next arc; and, to be honest, the decision may not be very hard at all: the promise of more Harper Row has me thinking, No. What is it about this issue, in particular, that has left me even less than lukewarm about where’s Scott Snyder’s headed with Gotham’s grim guardian? Well, let’s start at the beginning. Snyder kicks things off by sloughing subtlety–because the Joker ain’t subtle, son–and serving up an overly vomitous villain, which may be a simple send-up of the blathering bad guy or may be a misstep, allowing the Joker’s words to speak much louder than his actions, which amount to pretty much nothing–unless, of course, you count the Joker’s failed attempts to kill the Batfamily as a success because the Batkids, after recovering from their harrowing ordeal (during a real gassy meal!), make transparent excuses not to meet with Batdad. Ugh! That’s right: in the end–which is also where it seems the Joker wanted it the whole time, if we’re to buy the unnecessary homoerotic insinuations, anyway, all implying, and insultingly so, that the psychotic killer’s insanity is somehow tied to his crush on the Caped Crusader–what’s the big change that was promised from the beginning? When all is said and, well, said, is the Joker any different? I guess we’ll find out when he makes his inevitable return, eh? Is Batman any different? Was he tested anew? Not really. Did he have to solve a mystery or do anything clever to overcome insurmountable odds? No. But one thing–one thing!–is different: Dick, Tim, Jason, and Barbara have been infected with an acute case of moroseness, perhaps a side effect of–ahem–hahnium poisoning. Yeah. Hilarious. Sure, the last page is cute, but it’s also pretty telling: as the story laughs its way to the final panel, it’s clear that the joke, friends, is on us.

Batman #17

Batman #17

Derek Mainhart: That’s a bold statement. My reaction was perhaps both less visceral and more at the same time. Less, because I didn’t hate this conclusion. This issue certainly had any number of cop-outs: after the Joker spent the previous few issues amping up the atrocities to truly absurd levels, why in the world wouldn’t he go the distance now? Twice? And good lord, how many times is this character going to fall off a high ledge? Having said that, even with the eventual cop-out, in those first few pages Snyder builds up a palpable tension. And then he delivers a genuine jolt. In a mainstream superhero comic, chronicling a multimillion dollar franchise no less, that’s no small thing. It was enough to remind me why I like Snyder to begin with. And enough to hope that he’ll rekindle the ol’ Bat-magic soon.

SC: All that said, I can’t wait for my American Vampire trades!

DM: Right. There actually were some good books this week so let’s get the rest of the dreck out of the way. My Book of the Weak: Uncanny X-Men #1 (Marvel NOW!). The plot: there’s a group of mutants with unheard of power levels posing a threat to humanity. Cyclops, a messianic zealot, is their leader. Someone very close to Cyclops is set to betray him. Sound familiar? It should. I’ve just described the plot of Avengers Vs. X-Men, easily the worst book of 2012. Looks like the powers that be aren’t done abusing Cyclops yet. But wait! Maybe this is about his redemption! Doubtful. And considering how Bendis and Co. have woefully mishandled the character up until now, I’m not sticking around to find out. Chris Bachalo’s art is great tho’.

Uncanny X-Men #1

Uncanny X-Men #1

SC: I’m not as down on it as you are. But that’s not saying much. I understand–and agree–with your point about its parallel to the abysmal AvX and Bendis’s epic mishandling of Cyclops. I also didn’t care for the fact that the first issue’s framed by this rather sudden betrayal angle. Why not build toward it a bit, for goodness sake? And the reveal at the end? That was an Ugh moment for me, not unlike–but not as apocalyptic as–the end of Superior Spider-Man #1. Hmm. An ironic turncoat? Whatever. That being said, I’m going to ignore all of that and pick up number two. Why? I don’t know. Well, I guess I know: I think, it’s, in part, because I can’t conceive of a world in which I’m not picking up a single X-book. (As it is, I’m already living in a world in which I’m picking up one–only one of the billion Avengers books; and it’s one without Captain America, for crying out loud!) Another part: this is called my not learning my lesson: I’m giving into the siren song that is Bachalo’s artwork. Yes, I remember what happened with Wolverine and the X-Men. He fell off the book after I got hooked; and it took me twenty-plus issues to realize I had been rooked. We’ll see what happens. But for now, I’m calling this a trial run.

DM: While we’re on the topic of “dangerous undesirables,” there is a book out this week that skillfully tackles one of our country’s most hot-button issues: illegal immigration. The threat of deportation, onerous paths to citizenship, official corruption, placing a greater value on certain immigrants over others; all these are handled with a deft hand therein. What’s that you say? Joe Sacco must have a new book? Or perhaps Gene Luen Yang? Nope, it’s Popeye #10 (IDW):

-Popeye #10

That’s right; Popeye. Here’s the scoop: Toar, a behemoth of a man and good friend of our favorite sailor-man, is being threatened by an unnamed government agency that strongly suggests the Dept. of Homeland Security. In order to stay in the good ol’ U.S. of A. Toar must prove he possesses a valuable skill that no other American has. Panicked, and none too bright, he blurts out “TOAR ONLY FELLA WHO KIN BEAT POPEYE IN FIGHT!!”. A rare gift indeed. The government agent in charge of his case fairly salivates over “the potential military applications” of Toar’s boast. Sound a little too heavy-handed (pun intended) for a Popeye comic? Fear not! Writer Roger Langridge has been working wonders with this title, and this installment has all the jokes, antics, roughhousing and romantic misunderstandings (via Olive Oyl) any Popeye fan could want, all in a scant fifteen pages. His light touch seamlessly interweaves the social with the shenanigans. And Vince Musacchia’s retro stylings keep the tone at a safe, 1930’s remove. Most satisfyingly, although Toar is clearly the sympathetic character here, Langridge refuses to be one-sided in the debate. In fact, it is ultimately the viewpoint of the government agent, unsavory though he most certainly is, that carries the day. There are some forces, it seems, even Popeye can’t vanquish.

A bunch of ruffians fighting against menacing global powers though they’re desperately outmatched? That’s Archer and Armstrong‘s bag baby!

Archer & Armstrong #7

Archer & Armstrong #7

Archer, a recently un-brainwashed religious militant, and Armstrong, an immortal lout, have teamed up to save the world from…nothing. That is, an ancient secret sect (aren’t they all) called the Null that has been working for centuries to return reality to the mathematical purity of nothingness. Issue 7 (Valiant) finds that our heroes have been joined (or thrown together more like) by the Eternal Warrior, who happens to be Armstrong’s straight-arrow (pun intended) killing machine of a brother, who’s also a bit of a pill. These two take sibling rivalry to mythic proportions. Rounding out our group is a Geomancer, a sort of earth-goddess-wizard-type. In a delicious twist, the latest incarnation of the Geomancer is a young corporate shill, the type that would be at home as a talking head on Fox News, who’s chosen by Mother Nature (a monkey, natch) for her excellent P.R. skills. Fred Van Lente’s whip-smart writing riffs on a wide swath of sources, both pop cultural and historical: the Anti-Life Equation from Jack Kirby’s New Gods, the Matrix films, ancient Roman history, Archimedean mathematics and World War II espionage, among others. For all its erudite underpinnings, the book maintains a breezy tone, ably abetted by the crisp artwork of Emanuela Lupacchino and Guillermo Ortego. Van Lente’s writing is the star here though, equal parts Grant Morrison, Larry Gonick and Mad Magazine, as he gleefully skirts the line between high adventure and high satire.

SC: Umm, I liked it, too. And, wouldn’t you know, for all of those exact same reasons.

DM: Interesting Factoid Dept.: Both Archer and Armstrong #7 and Comedian #5 make use of the old “We, white man?” joke in the same week.

But there the similarities end. If you want to talk similarities however, it has been fascinating to concurrently read Comedian (DC) and Fury: My War Gone By (Marvel Max). Both books take firmly established characters and place them in the cross-hairs of war and the realpolitik considerations thereof. Comedian would seem the better fit, given Alan Moore’s deliberate infusion of 20th century history into Watchmen (does it need to be said that this was a watershed series at this point?). Nick Fury, on the other hand, carries decades of comic book baggage. And while his origins are tried-and-true war comics, his character has become so diluted and utilitarian over the years that I can’t even tell what he looks like in the Marvel U anymore (classic cigar-chomper or head-shaven Samuel Jackson?). Well, trust Garth Ennis to remedy that. Ennis, simply put, is the best writer of war comics around. (Hey there’s a reason this book was #9 on our Top Ten of 2012). This series, with appropriately visceral visuals by Goran Parlov, puts Nick right in the middle of some of the most nefarious military imbroglios of the last sixty-some years, from the Bay of Pigs to Vietnam. The intrigue abounds as Nick is placed in situation after impossible situation due to sordid behind-the-scenes machinations that he knows all too well, but has little influence over. As such, an appropriate fatalistic air hangs over the series. In fact in the latest issue, (in which our suspension of disbelief is unfortunately tested by the inclusion of the Punisher doing his best Rambo impression) Ennis suggests that Fury wouldn’t change things even if he could. As he descends upon his target, a Vietnamese commander, we’re left wondering who the “bad guy” really is. And if, in Fury’s world, such questions aren’t strictly academic.

SC: Wasn’t my favorite issue of Fury, probably because it was more of a shoot-’em-up this time around. Oh, and because of one of the more awkward time-collapse transitions–signaled more arrogantly than cleverly by Fury’s “No time to f___ around”–I’ve experienced of late. (Sneaky suspicion: a page or two had to be lost in the final edit, and chopping this scene seemed the safest bet.) I do appreciate, however, the fact that Ennis drives home the point–especially in the two scenes with the smug Pug McCuskey–that Fury’s true nemesis isn’t to be found on foreign shores at all. In those scenes specifically, the real war–a war of words reminiscent of Othello–is waged; and, for now, anyway, Shirley DeFabio and Fury are left on the losing side. No matter: as long as Ennis forges ahead with this book, we’re all winners.

DM: For the Comedian, questions of morality don’t even exist. In issue 5 Brian Azzarello and J.G. Jones go straight into the Heart of Darkness. Again, the setting is the Vietnam War. As events spiral out of control, the Comedian takes matters into his own deadly hands. As he does, he bluntly explains the rationale behind his actions. It is a belief system that will support any violence, excuse any atrocity done in its name. It’s easy to imagine something similar going through the minds of soldiers of any stripe, in any conflict, as they perpetrate acts of gross inhumanity. It is simple and it is chilling. And the Comedian makes the Punisher look like a saint.

The whole Before Watchmen franchise has been largely, and justly, maligned. The titles suffer most from a quivering fealty to the source material (much as the movie did) that results in highlighting the most superficial aspects of the original, thus rendering the unique, cliche. But Comedian is the exception. Azzarello and Jones have crafted a book that can stand on its own. And a damn good one at that.

But the best war comic being produced these days is undoubtedly Battlefields (Dynamite)– again, by Garth Ennis (surprise!). Issue 4 begins a new arc entitled The Fall and Rise of Anna Kharkova, in which Ennis returns to the title character, a WWII female Russian fighter pilot (from a previous arc, The Night Witches) and one of his most winning creations. This issue presents the Fall as Anna’s plane is brought down behind German lines. She is taken prisoner, but due to circumstances that Ennis skillfully explains, she is being cared for by Chris Cohen, a medic, a British officer, and a Jew. This issue is largely a character study of the two, taking place in a single room during Anna’s long convalescence. Ennis’ writing is wonderful as the characters get to know each other; one could almost imagine this as a one-act play. He suggests the passage of time merely through tonal shifts in the dialogue. His immense knowledge of history is on full display, but never overwhelms. And then there is the dialogue itself: natural, revealing, funny, angry, human. The tragic Russian and the reserved Brit do occasionally talk like avatars of their respective cultures and historical circumstance. But wouldn’t war naturally engender such conversations amongst its combatants? (Kudos must also be given to Russ Braun: no harder task in comics than drawing pages and pages of two characters talking to each other in the same room.) Given the ending, I suspect we’re going to see a bit more Fall for Anna next issue before her Rise.

Battlefields #4

Battlefields #4

Dare I Hope? Dept.: With Ennis, along with Azzarello, producing such stellar work, could we be witnessing a Renaissance of that classic genre, the war comic?

From Night Witches to real witches: Fatale #12 (Image). I’ve simply run out of superlatives to describe this book. Would you care to take a shot?

SC: A shot? Heh. You motif monger! In this case, how about a stab?

Fatale #12

Fatale #12

Of all the books this week, nothing stands out more than Fatale #12–and not just because of Sean Phillips’ gorgeous cover. Yeah, it’s becoming a bit of a routine now: read Fatale, write about Fatale and name Fatale Book of the Week and then, eventually, Book of the Month. You’d think we’ve been paid to praise it! (Disclaimer: we haven’t been paid to praise it–not that we’d be against such an arrangement.) This time around, Ed Brubaker and the aforementioned Mr. Phillips cement their status as the hands-down Masters of the One Shot. I mean, it’s no secret: #11 was our Book of the Month for January and a stunning example of single-issue storytelling. While that storytelling skill is on full display in this issue as well, the creators take a bit of a risk here: they break from Josephine’s journey and jump across the ocean and back in time to 1286 A.D. Our heroine, Mathilda’s got what Josephine’s got: a mojo she can’t quite explain and that men can’t resist. Bearing this cross, she’s branded a witch and suffers for it–suffers but never dies. She meets Ganix, a kindly old cyclops–one actually worth caring about!–who cares for her, who fights for her, and who ends up suffering for her. Mathilda races to save Ganix and embraces her power over men as she descends upon those who have “come to drag the demon witch away.” Sure, she takes them all down–just as we expected her to; but Brubaker’s better than that: he knows what we’re expecting–because he’s made us expect it! Instead, we’re left with a Wow!, which is exactly what we want to walk away with after the final panel–which is exactly what we expect from Brubaker, a writer at the very top of his game. So, to make it official: Book of the Week.

Turning pages,

Derek & Scott

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