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Back and Forth: The Art of Turning Pages

27 Saturday Oct 2012

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Scott Carney: I finished reading through my stack Friday night.  Here I am on Monday night, kicking it with Mitt and Barack, still struggling to feel something for these books.  To try to kick-start a feeling, I peeled back a few pages of Daredevil #19.  Here’s a book that has taken on an odd tone of late.  Gone is the good time, and squatting in its place is one serious second after another–save for a pair of panels that find Daredevil, well, squatting in a warehouse with a clothespin on his nose in order to save his suped-up sense of smell from the stench of the garage in which he’s staked out.  I heaped a hefty “HA!” in that spot, one heralding the arrival of vicious version of The Spot: Coyote–who’s at least one step ahead of DD.  Is there something silly about Matt’s cellphone conversation with Foggy?  Sure.  It culminates in a fantastic fall and a calm “Call you back,” whipped up wittily by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez.  That dance, however, is dampened by the danger–by the descent into madness that rules the book as a whole.  I did dig the dialogue between Foggy and Kirstin despite its doubling down on the seriousness of the storyline.  I think it’s worth noting that Samnee and Rodriguez do a fearless job of bringing Waid’s complex interdimensional fight scene to the page.  It took me a few reads to really appreciate it, but appreciate it I do.  Spot on, boys!  Can’t wait to see what’s ne–

Derek Mainhart: Sounds like you ended up enjoying it more than you initially thought! After the dark terrain of the last couple of issues, I definitely felt this was a return to form. The culprit behind DD’s recent woes was revealed, and if the answer was a bit underwhelming (a throwaway villain from the first issue), Waid’s creative exploration of his Tex Avery superpower was alternately farcical and chilling. I’d also like to commend Waid’s command of pacing here. He’s one of a very few writers (Grant Morrison comes to mind) who understands how the physical structure of a comic book can enhance the experience of reading it. The cell phone scene you mention is a perfect example. The danger is set up perfectly on page 2. Then you have to turn the page for the unexpected, laugh-out-loud punchline.

Since we’re discussing arcane comic book points, a similar thing happens in Batwoman #13. The plot is negligible; Wonder Woman and Batwoman have teamed up to find Medusa for some reason. Whatever; in this book the story exists for J.H. Williams III to hang his art on. I feel like every time we review Batwoman, I just go on about how gorgeous the art is. Well this review is no exception. The visuals are unbelievable (colorist extraordinaire Dave Stewart deserves mentioning here as well). The beat I’m referring to begins on pages 11-12, as Wonder Woman, unseen, is bound and trapped in pitch blackness (also featured is some bravura lettering by Todd Klein – everyone gets their due in this review!). The layout of this two-page spread is absolutely claustrophobic. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. And then the page turn and the abrupt transition from suffocating dark to blinding light  – I swear you’ll need sunglasses. Another favorite: the two-page spread on pages 4-5 (only Williams can justify a book full of ’em!) as our heroines traverse an underground labyrinth. The bird’s eye view, revealing the complexity of the thing, is a stunner. I literally tried to fold it like an Al Jaffee fold-in from Mad Magazine, sure there was some hidden image (even after several unsuccessful attempts, I still kinda think there’s one). Buy it and gawk.

And yet for all of that, this was not the most eye-grabbing art in my pile this week. That honor goes to The Zaucer of Zilk #1 (IDW / 2000AD). Check out this cover:

Doesn’t do it justice. I’m telling you, as I perused the usual fare on the shelves, this thing was pulsing. When I snapped out of its ocular enchantment, I found that a copy had jumped into my hands. And a good thing too. Where to begin? It starts with your basic Alice in Wonderland escape from reality, then promptly turns this conceit on its head. From there we follow the Zaucer (the titular hero, sort of) through realms dripping with surreality; candy-colored fantasy lands teeming with psychedelic absurdity,

SC: I believe the word is “trippy.”

DM: Yeah, I guess, but I have to say I’ve never been one for the hippy-dippy aesthetic. I hold that the late sixties through the early seventies is the ugliest era on record. All garish colors and no discipline. But here, the art by Brendan McCarthy, gives a refined form to the hallucinatory proceedings. There is both tension and balance between his fine-lined drawings and the Day-Glo colors an tie-dyed backgrounds (supplied by Mr. McCarthy and Len O’Grady – again the colorists are vital to the book). It’s like Yellow Submarine as drawn by Frank Quitely (indeed the villain owes more than a little to the Blue Meanies). The script by Al Ewing (from a story by he and Mr. McCarthy) shares a similar quality. All of the introductory story beats are hit; introduction of characters, conflict and quest. But the florid language disguises the traditional narrative workings with a fanciful, anarchic tone that is distinctly British in its cultivated nonsense. Here’s a sample as the not-quite-helpless damsel finds herself in the gloomy realm of Dankendreer:

“Rain dribbles into grey plastic buckets. Paper-mache people slump over cobwebbed continental breakfasts. Poor Tutu. She should have stayed in the Guest Room.”

(The spasmodic contrast between the dark and light realms is exactly what was missing from the first issue of Happy!) As the title itself suggests Ewing deals in wordplay, which runs the gamut from groaning puns to sublime silliness (my personal favorite – his take on “fancy pants” –  I want a pair!) He even manages to break the fourth wall in a way that is relatively understated and actually makes sense within the framework of the story, which shines a fun-house mirror on our TMZ / OCD culture. Now all of this does run the risk of becoming wearying in the long run. But this first issue, with its wild invention, expansive scope and off-kilter storytelling takes its place alongside Brian K. Vaughan’s Saga, China Mieville’s Dial H and (yes, I’ll say it) Ryan North’s Adventure Time, as invigorating examples of craft and imagination. Truly a breath of fresh air in the comic book world. Book of the Week. Book of the Week. Book of the Week.

SC: But how did you really feel about it? Now, let’s see, what else moved me?  Well, if you’ve read my Scottlight on: Swamp Thing #0 post, you know how much I love a good head chompin’.  And there, in Wonder Woman #13, two pages in, there it is, in the final panel: a little noggin noshin’.  For one reason or another, that’s where my joy–and my enjoyment of the book–was chewed up and swallowed away.  I’m not sure it’s tied to anything Brian Azzarello has done; he’s certainly pushing his story along well enough.  I think I felt let down by Tony Akins’ inconsistent artwork.  I mean, did you notice the last panel on page 21?  Gotta wonder about that woman.

Neither Harbinger #5 nor X-O Manowar #6 did it for me this go-round.  Ink and color me a bit nervous about the Valiant books, especially with the new titles on the horizon.

In Ultimate Spider-Man #16, Brian Michael Bendis makes a clear-cut case for a costume-free Miles Morales–for an Ultimate Miles Morales on-going, which would undoubtedly be superior to anything Marvel’s putting out NOW!

DM: Regarding this issue’s focus on blah super hero shenanigans, I must point to my review of the previous issue of USM – I told you so! Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I pulled something whilst patting myself on the back. Where’s that ointment?….

Back and Forth: Laborious Bastards

04 Thursday Oct 2012

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Scott Carney: Looks like I’ve finally hit the wall.  Or the bag.  Or something.  I’m staring at the stack for the week (all used, one abused) and I’m struggling–struggling because not a single comic struck me enough to make me bleed words.  So let me cut myself…

Derek Mainhart: I feel your pain. I was really excited about this week’s books. Two Grant Morrison books? Lots o’ Allred art? Sign me up! And yet I’m similarly uninspired. I guess we need to start with the book that seemed to have the most potential to make me Happy….

SC: Maybe an allusion to Clerks will make you happy: Seventy-two?  Seventy-two?  Grant Morrison used the f-word or some form of the f-word seventy-two times!

DM: In a row?

SC: Well done.  Can you believe it, though?  That’s how many times an f-word flies off the pages of his effusively offensive, belatedly offbeat, and finally fun Happy #1.  From the first c-word, Morrison, a true super scribe–and pen-point sniper–in his own write, makes it clear that he’s happy to be writing a book for Image and that he’s, sadly, no Garth Ennis when it comes to four-wheelin’ it with four-letter words.  As a result, I really had no use for this book–this is until Happy the Horse reveals who he is and why he needs Sax, our prostrate protagonist.  That bit hooked me hard.  That’s right: I’m going to accept the fact that the explicit language is meant to exaggerate the dour song of experience of the X-rated adult world and to set up the bizarre yet greatly appreciated arrival of an–as far as we know–innocent child’s hyperbolically-cartoonish imaginary friend.  So, despite my initial doubt, I’m going to ride the crazy premise of a loyal My Little Pegasus and its looking to swoop in and save the day with a soiled sidekick; I’m going to trust in Morrison and am going to grab #2.

DM: Yeah, I had a similar reaction. Those first few pages read like a bad impression of Ennis (a true impresario of invective – see below). But I guess that’s the point: Morrison’s satirizing gritty, foulmouthed, hyper-violent crime stories. One of the goombahs even says “We can do this without all the (effin) language.” But the problem is that, in satirizing the dreary, grim and gritty milieu of many a mediocre comic (and movie for that matter), he has created a story that is, in fact, all of those things. Darick Robertson really sells the contrast well; he renders a world that is positively grimy to heighten his rendition of Happy, who looks like a Fantasia character designed by Tex Avery. Unfortunately, that stark visual contrast isn’t matched by the story. In order for the satire to really work, Happy needs to be utterly guileless, standing in counterpoint to the cynical drudgery that surrounds him (think Roger Rabbit). But Happy only looks ridiculous. He’s as wise to the sleaze as anyone; more so, in fact as he informs Nick of his own predicament, “You’re in a mob hospital, they took your weapons, sedated you and now they’ve sent a torture squad to screw some kinda password out of you.” So, no, I’m not buying into the whole hilarity of the situation. Even the conceit (protagonist-goes-on-quest-with-imaginary-friend-or-are-they..?) is something Morrison recently explored in the far superior (thus far) Joe the Barbarian. Sigh. Like you said, it’s Morrison. I’ll always give him the benefit of a doubt (and my 3 bucks for #2).

SC: While Morrison’s f-bombs seemed awkwardly wired, Ennis’s are timed to go off at just the right moment in Fury Max #6.  But that’s just Ennis playing to his–and the “one-eyed [a-hole’s]”–strength.  The expected explosion of expletives isn’t the only reason why this book wears its warning like a Medal of Honor, however; Goran Parlov goes for the gore with a crushing depiction of a head in a vise and with Fury’s straight-out-of-the-headlines mouthful of face.  (I can hear the creators cackling during the process of putting this scene together: “Yes, I’ll have el Cubano, please.”)  And how about poor Elgen?  This brave soul–this patriot–takes a knife to the nether regions, is tossed to the sharks, loses a couple of limbs, and welcomes a benevolent bullet from the coldly caring colonel.  It’s clear: War is hell; and Fury and Heatherly are left to sail the Styx together.  Overall, this issue carries a terrific and oft terrifying tune–though, and I think I’m being fair, this time, the Shirley Defabio scenes don’t necessarily reach the height of perfect harmony.  Hey, it’s gonna happen.  You know what shouldn’t happen?  I’ll tell you what shouldn’t happen: the biggest flaw I found stands defiantly on the last page–the very last page–of the book: #7 comes out on 12/5?  Really?  Really?  Bastards.

DM: Nobody writes war comics better the Ennis. Military history is obviously a passion of his and he captures it in all its awful glory. His Battlefields series from Dynamite is even better than this one. I’m eagerly awaiting the next installment, Battlefields: The Green Fields Beyond, due out in November. If you like Fury, you could do worse than picking up a trade. They’re standalone stories and are a great display of Ennis’ true range (Dear Billy being my personal fave).  Don’t be a bastard. Check it out.

SC: Hmm.  Guess I’ll have to check that out.  Speaking of bastards: I love Jeff Lemire’s take on John Constantine.  (I love Lee Garbett’s take on Zatanna, as well; “Raeppa,” indeed.)  In Justice League Dark #0, the hellblazing S.O.B. is shown to be an insatiable magic whore with a heart–a heart probably plagued with plaque from all the cigarettes he sucks down over the course of the issue.  (Hmm.  I wonder if Zatanna could help him with that with a simple, “Euqalp eb enog!”  That little witch is a keeper, son!)  Story-wise, the book is split in two: there’s the well-developed and snappy slow burn of the first part, which ends with Nick Necro’s fully transparent flytrap of a phone call; and then there’s the rest, which lacks any heat at all, thanks, in part, to the aptly named Cold Flame.  But it’s OK; it’s all good: the darn thing’s a one and done; and next month, we get back down to business with “The War for the Books of Magic.”  Can’t wait for that.  Wait.  Why wait?  Why not try—this: “Htnom ylf yb!”

DM: I gotta disagree with you here. Constantine is a very singular sort of scoundrel. Ambivalent to the point of maddening. Distinct Liverpool accent. Deadpan, world-weary sarcasm. It’s not every writer that can nail the trenchant rhythms of his speech, or his enigmatically contrarian attitude. And, sadly, Lemire is not up to the task (though I commend him for not resorting to using “bollocks” every two panels). His rendition of Constantine has been serviceable within the team format of this book. But in a solo tale like this one, his flawed grasp of the character becomes glaring. A trench coat and a cigarette do not a bastard make. Yes, I realize this is the New 52 version of the character.  A good thing too. The Vertigo version would eat this guy alive.

SC: Something for Garth Ennis to explore in a new series: Constantine Max.

DM: I’m already looking forward to it!  But–and here’s another one you may not have picked up–a book that has no problem capturing the idiom of its lead characters is Steed and Mrs. Peel #1 (published by BOOM!). What is odd, initially confusing, and finally intriguing about the story (Caleb Monroe’s script working from Mark Waid’s plot with art by Will Sliney), is that it immediately takes those two beloved leads completely out of their comfort zone. A post-apocalyptic London, complete with irradiated mutant zombies? Hardly what we’d expect for our avatars of the swingin’ sixties. Indeed, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop (you know, hallucination, elaborate hoax, etc.), but apparently Waid and Monroe are sticking to their guns. Here (unlike in Happy) the study in contrasts works: no matter the mind-numbing horror they now face, our heroes imperturbably maintain their stiff upper lip and all that. End of the world? No excuse to lose one’s cool. Good show! (Sorry. I’ll stop.)

Another book making gleeful fun out out of the annihilation of mankind is Mars Attacks #4 (IDW). I do think writer John Layman makes a mistake in portraying the Martians as slightly  sympathetic. Still, each issue has been a scorched earth snapshot of the havoc those bloodthirsty, brain-exposed bastards are wreaking, rendered in equal parts comedy and gore by the always engaging John McCrea. The disparate snapshots seem to be coming together at the end of this issue. Not sure how I feel about that. But ancient Aztecs? Giant fleas? Buzzsaws to the noggin? High-octane hilarity.

But even that doesn’t come close to the near-sublime, spasmodic absurdity that is…Wolverine and the X-Men #17. Yes. That’s right. Wolverine and the X-Men. I’ve steered clear of the X-books for quite a while now. Their convoluted, insular story lines have rendered them seemingly impenetrable. But Mike Allred and Doop reunited for the first time since their glorious run on X-Force and X-Statix (written by Peter Milligan)? It was the kind of gift I didn’t realize I wanted until I saw it. Any reservations I may have had about deciphering labyrinthine layers of X-history were quickly dispelled on page 3 with the merciful announcement: “Previously – Lots of things happened, but don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Enjoy.” Reassured, I sat back, relaxed and did enjoy a true MIKE ALLRED COMIC. Certain writers, (Neil Gaiman, the previously mentioned Morrison and Ennis) seem to bring out the best in the artists they work with. Well Allred is one of the few artists who does that with writers. It’s as if they realize they need to up their game, channel their inner anarchist, and let it fly. And happily Jason Aaron (never a timid writer) is up for the challenge. The set-up: Wolverine hires Doop to protect the Jean Grey School For Higher Learning (which I guess is what it’s called now) from the myriad threats lurking, well, everywhere. His haphazard duties include, but are not limited to: ambushing a bowling league, seducing various members of a school board, and teaming up for an interdimensional adventure with the most unanticipatedly awesome guest star of the year, whose identity I won’t ruin. (Suffice it to say, my inner-geek had a heart attack.) Doop – truly an intrepid hero of the people. Really, the book this most resembles in its wondrous lunacy is Bob Burden’s legendary Flaming Carrot (check out his recently successful Kickstarter campaign for happy news on that front – http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/592668574/flaming-carrot-hardback-and-digital-comics). And that is rarefied air indeed. And so, at the end, I was left in a Doop-shaped pickle; was I wrong about my X-aversion? Did I need to start picking up this book? And then I turned to the Next Issue box featuring a Phoenix-enflamed Cyclops tie-in to the monstrosity that is AvX. Thus I find myself in the unique position of declaring: Book of the Week. I have no intention of picking up the next issue.

Wolverine and the X-Men #17 Cover

SC: I wouldn’t pick it up if I were you.  Thing is, I’m not; so, I’ll be picking it up as a loyal reader might be expected to–even with the seemingly never-ending AvX tie-in hanging over it like something you really don’t want hanging over something you like.  (I’ve already explained–in the previous Back and Forth–how I feel about that whole thing.)  Aaron’s sashayed around the silliness well enough; he’s even played it for a laugh or two–done particularly well in #16, with the focus on the snarky Kilgore kid.  And, you know, that’s what I’ve liked about this series: the “we’re superheroes, sure, but we’re not super serious” vibe.  This issue, however, seems waaaaay over the top–which is fine; I mean, it does focus on Doop, for God’s sake.  Thing is, it felt forced at times, like it had to be pushed and shoved–dragged, even–to the apex of wackiness.  Don’t get me wrong: I thought the Nazi bowling team was a strike; I laughed heartily at Doop’s daliances with members of both genders; and, oh, how I dug the cameo to which you referred.  I don’t know.  I don’t know why I didn’t fall into it as much as you did.  Maybe it’s because you’ve got the experience with the Allred/Doop tandem that I don’t have.  (Thanks for letting me borrow the X-Force trade, by the way.)  Maybe it’s because I’m a grumpy bastard who finds comfort in continuity.  Speaking of continuity: with all the stuff going down after AvX #12–with titles getting axed and added–I’m left wondering if Wolverine and the X-Men will be a thing of the past or if it’ll be a part of Now!  Now, speaking of Now!: I’m pretty sure you’ve got something to get off your chest about the Marvel revamp.  Care to share?

DM: Later.

SC: Bastard.

Back and Forth: The Long Goodbye

26 Wednesday Sep 2012

Posted by in Back and Forth, Microviews

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Derek Mainhart: So this week was marked by the end of three series I enjoyed (in addition to The Shade from last week – sniff!) Let’s start with the one I liked in spite of myself:

Spider-Men #5: I was all set to not like this series. It seemed pointless – why kill Peter Parker if you’re going to introduce Miles Morales to…Peter Parker? (The fact that he’s from an alternate reality just seemed like splitting hairs.) The only reason I picked it up was that Brian Michael Bendis has created a compelling character in young Miles. And then, about midway through, I found myself getting caught up in it. One of the things that make for a good story are memorable moments. And this series, especially in the last two issues, was full of them. The scenes with Peter “reuniting” (for the first time?) with Aunt May and Gwen Stacy were touching and understated, the reactions of all involved perfectly calibrated. Mysterio almost willing himself to be defeated was wry and knowing. (By pointing out the cliche, Bendis milks it for humor turning a potential weakness into a strength.) And it ended on a wonderful note: a cliffhanger that was organic, inevitable and completely earned. The art by Sara Pichelli was knockout; a touch of Kevin Maguire in the facial expressions, some Brian Bolland in the refined linework. (Yes, she’s keeping that kind of company.) I was still left with a slight, nagging feeling of “having your cake and eating it too” by the whole concept. But when that concept gives rise to a series this good, my reservations (unlike this book, as it turned out) were pointless.

Spider-Men #5 Cover

Scott Carney: Yeah: I agree.  I, too, was lulled into a sense of “Who shoots a web?” about this series.  I jumped into it for a pair of reasons: the creative team–as you’ve said–is top-notch; and wouldn’t you know, I’m kind of caught up in Miles, clearly the most compelling character kicking around any of the Marvel universes.  After the first couple of issues, I wasn’t very impressed.  To be honest, I stuck with it only because it was a five-issue run.  And I’m glad I did: as I’ve described at length in a “Scottlight on” post, I absolutely loved #4.  Oh, I could’ve called it quits there, at the highest of highs, but there was only one chapter left; so I picked up #5 with amazingly low expectations.  And, as one might–and as I did–imagine, those expectations were met–until the end, of course.  What a final page!  Peter’s searching for Miles on the–ahem–World Wide Web–is pitch perfect and honest.  Plus, I think Bendis is making the ultimate statement here: that even Peter Parker–the Marvel hero–is interested, just as much as we are, in Miles Morales, the spiderling who would replace him, more or less.

DM: Which brings us to Miles’ regular book Ultimate Spider-Man #15. As mentioned above, Bendis has more than justified the decision to kill off Ultimate Peter by crafting such a refreshing character in Miles. This book shines when it concentrates on its young protagonist’s private life; his interactions with his best friend (the irrepressible Ganke), his chilling interactions with his murderous uncle (quite a change from Ben!) and especially the ever-growing complexity of his relationship with his father. In Miles’ Dad, Bendis has created a character that is completely decent, full of integrity, and utterly fallible. (It’s a shame that Mom is still a bit of a cipher). The interactions between father and son have been the highlights of the series. Methinks tragedy lies ahead, and not the simple kind caused by burglar’s bullet. Paradoxically, the least compelling scenes are the ones with Spider-Man. The wisecracks seem to have come too easily to Miles and make it difficult to discern any difference between him and Peter Parker, at least when he’s in costume. So if I have on a quibble here, it’s that developments from the “UNITED WE STAND” crossover (there it is, stamped right on the cover, see?!) seem to be pushing the book in a direction of less Miles, more Spider-Man. Hopefully I’m wrong. (Crossovers. Ugh.)

SC: I feel your pain when it comes to crossovers.  I think it’s time to look at any “stamp” or banner or threat of a crossover or tie-in as a sign–a desperate warning sign, like, I don’t know, Bridge Out.

In terms of USM #15, I couldn’t have said it any better.  The book itself is better when Miles is just plain Miles–and when he bands together with his super-free coterie–Ganke and the family–to take on the wicked, and infinitely patient, antagonist Adolescence.  I mean, come on: Ganke’s premature discharge (art by the solid David Marquez)–with Peter’s web shooters in hand–is a all-too-relatable teenage tragedy that calls down the comedy with every web cast toward the ceiling.  With a chunk of ceiling dangling from a strand in his hand, Miles admits, “I gotta have my webs”; but he’s had plenty from the get-go, including the stickiest one–how his dad feels about Spider-Man–which plays out here some, but to no great effect.  Speaking of no great effect: if Spider-Men #5 has a perfect ending, this one has, well, not that.

DM: As good as USM has been, Marvel’s best book (with the Eisners to prove it!) has been Daredevil. Mark Waid has infused, not only the character, but the entire series with personality and style to spare. In this he’s been abetted by some stellar artists including Chris Samnee this issue (Waid and Samnee are quickly becoming the new team supreme – check out Rocketeer: Cargo of Doom). Issue 18 though, is a bit of a letdown. What bothers me, I think, is the shift in tone. Waid’s run has distinguished itself (mostly) from DD’s usual morose proceedings by injecting a good dose of healthy, swashbuckling fun. The somewhat forced conflict between Matt and Foggy in this issue, and now the re-introduction of a tragic character from the ol’ gloom-and-doom, pre-Waid days, is threatening to let the air out, sending DD back into the deep, dank basement from which he so recently escaped. Ah well, Samnee’s art, as I said, is fantastic, with the best bits having to do with DD riding up and down an elevator.

SC: OK, so, I think I know what you’re saying without your saying it outright.  Hidden there in your pristine prose is exactly how I felt about this issue, too: it’s boring.  Like you, I didn’t buy the B.S. rift between Matt and Foggy as it was “developed” in #17, and I certainly am not reaching into my pocket this time around–except, obviously, to pay for the book.  I will say that my spirit was lifted as I turned to page 8, which is where I found Matt and Kirsten, thank God, outside of Matt’s apartment.  Their conversation–two panels’ worth, anyway—whisked me back to the wonderful DD #12; unfortunately, I wasn’t left there very long.  I’m blindly banking on the fact that this issue is a transition into something decidedly more daring and devilish.  If it’s not, I’m going to be darned disappointed.  Despite my display of displeasure, I assure you that I’m not down on the artwork.  Samnee is one of my favorites right now, and I’m happy to see him back here, no matter how dank this month’s delivery may be.

DM: Speaking of dank places: Batwoman #0. The story by J.H. Williams III and W. Haden Blackman is wildly uneven. It further explores our hero’s origin and begins with some quite insightful, sensitive reminiscences of her sister and especially her father. This section fleshes out her character’s past motivations while exploring her bond with her father (lots of Daddy issues – get it? issues? – this week!) We then get an extended Kate-in-training montage. Here the writing goes from heartfelt and specific to numbing and cliche’.  This is followed by an elaborate exercise in cruelty that, it turns out, was a final test of her readiness set up by – SPOILER ALERT! – her father. First problem – this reads like a second-rate version of Evey Hammond’s transformation in V for Vendetta (right down to Guy Fawkes-like devil mask that dad is sporting). If this reference is intentional, it’s a mistake. You shouldn’t highlight a work that is superior to yours; it can only suffer by comparison. (Do you hear me Jeff Lemire on Animal Man? Leave Grant Morrison’s run alone! – ahem.) The second, and larger problem, as far as this book goes – the premeditated masochism of the plan not only runs counter to what we’ve seen earlier in this very issue, it defies everything we know about her father’s character dating back to Greg Rucka’s original, excellent conception. To say his actions are out of character is an understatement. It reads like a friggin’ supervillain origin. The ending however, is a partial return to sanity, and William’s art, it must always be said, is just gorgeous. He employs the same David Mazzucchelli-inspired style he used for the flashbacks during Rucka’s run, and he nails it. He can pretty much just do anything, art-wise. Take page 13 – he utilizes both the simpler flashback style and his more lush, rendered technique in the same splash page. The visual tension between the two is a show-stopper.

SC: Without question: Williams III’s art is the thing here.  But even though his shift in style provides an unexpected and equally as stunning anchor for the pieces of the past, I found myself still somewhat lost in the origin story–and not in a good way.  I may as well have been blindfolded like Kate when she first became involved with the “Murder of Crows.”  What I was reading, for the most part, meant nothing to me.  Could’ve been the Perez-esque (circa New 52 Superman) wordiness of the captions, or the layout of the captions, which was unnecessarily awkward at times; in fact, the gorgeous splash to which you referred is marred only by an almost unreadable caption–red writing on a gray background–to the left of the beautifully rendered Batman.  I had to tilt and turn the book; I had to move into the light and out of it again in order to follow the damn narration!  That’s unacceptable!  It’s something I’d expect from a Marvel book, for goodness sake!  I don’t know.  It could’ve been–as you stated–that the story of how she came to be a hero is an all too familiar one.  Hey, it happens–unless, of course, you’re Azzarello on Wonder Woman #0.

DM: You hit the nail on the head.  With Wonder Woman #0, we have a writer in full command of his craft; not surprising when that writer is Brian Azzarello. Check out how he effortlessly establishes theme and tone on just the first page: We see a pubescent Diana climbing to reach a giant egg while the accompanying caption box announces: “The monthly monster strikes again!” This ostensibly refers to comic book deadlines (wink, wink) but offers, of course delicious counterpoint to the image. We are then informed of the conceit that this is a reprint of that classic (apocryphal) series, “All-Girl Adventure Tales for Men”! So there you have it: a tongue-in-cheek, coming of age tale tackling gender issues through the retro paternalistic tone of a comic of yesteryear. Again, that’s just the first page! This is simply writing on another level. (Cliff Chiang’s art complements the tone with bombastic panel compositions, though perhaps not the retro style that the story seems to call for. Oh well, we can’t all be J.H. Williams.) So, young Diana manages to steal the egg from a shrieking harpy (‘natch!) in order bake a cake (‘natch!) for her birthday. After an altercation with one of her Amazon sisters, she runs off feeling misunderstood and isolated (that common teenage malady) She even asks, weeping, (in a panel worthy of Lichtenstein) “Why must I be different?” A god suddenly appears proclaiming in most manly fashion “I be blood! I be iron! I be guts! I be WAR!” (That he does so while wearing what appears to be an outfit from an S&M flick just adds to the fun.) He offers to train her to be the world’s greatest warrior, once a month, under the full moon (‘NATCH!) By now you may be thinking, “Gender issues? Old-fashioned dialogue? S&M outfits?! Maybe I’ll steer clear of this one…” But NO! Here there be battle! Here there be the Minotaur! And despite the inherent irony in the writing, here there be…pathos. As Diana, in the end, must defy her bloodthirsty trainer, Azzarello defines, with utmost sincerity, the essence of his rendition of Wonder Woman: not her strength, not her prowess in battle, but her compassion, her mercy, her love. That he ties this in implicitly with her womanhood might seem, itself, paternalistic, even condescending. I call it revelatory.

SC: I found Wonder Woman #0 to be a clever combination of a writing style that is clearly aware of itself and a retro art style that proudly profits from its roots.  Overall, I liked it a lot, perhaps more than USM.  I particularly liked the relationship between Diana and Ares, despite its being one we’ve seen a thousand times.  Every panel in which we find them together reflects their powerful connection–until, of course, on page 27, when Ares lets Diana have it after she defies him.  That connection, however, is never actually severed: the Minotaur is obviously a doppelganger for Ares.  (Check out the final panel of page 21 and the first panel of page 26.  How about the last two panels of page 27?  Accidents?  I think not.)  And, in that, it’s clear that Diana, in being merciful, has passed Ares’ test after all.  Ah, the “Merry Men” have done it again–even if it is for the first time.

DM: Another book conjuring impressive literary tricks is Courtney Crumrin #5. This issue takes some time to explore the Crumrin ancestral tree. It does this by employing a story-within-a-story-within-a-story; no mean feat and Ted Naifeh pulls it off with aplomb. With its mixture of folklore and personal history, it put me in the mind of some of Neil Gaiman’s  work, especially the great Sandman (though less subtle, and perhaps not quite as precious). The atmospheric artwork; some Kevin Nowlan influence I think, with just a dash of P. Craig Russell (though I hate the way Naifeh draws hands). If the writing lacks some of its usual irreverent buoyancy, it’s only because the title character takes a necessary back seat this issue. So all in all, another impressive effort in a title that is YA in name only.

Moving further down the age bracket, we have Peanuts #2 from kaboom!, BOOM’s excellent all-kids imprint. I have mixed feelings about the existence of this series. Should the exploits of Charlie Brown et al., be understood as highly individual vehicles of personal expression for their creator, the master, Charles Schulz? Or do they, like Disney characters, now belong to the world, necessitating new stories for a new generation of readers? It’s a matter for legitimate debate. But it makes it harder to complain when the stories (by Alexis E. Farjado, Shane Houghton, Vicki Scott, Bob Scott, Mike DeCarlo and Paige Braddock) are as charming as they are in this issue.

And now, returning to the aforementioned goodbyes, Merciless: The Rise of Ming #4 (by Scott Beatty and Ron Adrian) brings the Flash Gordon spinoff to a close (sidebar – I get annoyed when limited series like this aren’t explicitly advertised as such. I had no idea this was the last issue. Maybe it was mentioned in Previews or elsewhere, but it should be right on the front cover. Perhaps not listing it allows for some editorial wiggle room if something is a hit, or not, but as a customer I like to know what I’m getting into (grumbled the old man)). While I do think more of his depraved rise to the top could have been explored, it was still great fun watching Ming go from backstabbing prince to Despot of the Universe through sheer ambition, callousness and relentless force of will. A true Randian hero.

And finally Snarked! #12 (another unexpected last issue, grumble grumble!). This well-deserved Eisner-Award winning series represents comics at their most exciting; idiosyncratic work by a cartoonist (the inimitable Roger Langridge) at the height of his powers, putting them in the service of a singular, fantastic vision. In this case that vision is a heady brew of Lewis Carroll, W.C Fields, Laurel and Hardy, the Fleischer Bros., Segar’s Popeye, and…and I don’t know what else. This book had it all: high adventure, slapstick comedy, classic art and undeniable heart. If, over the course of twelve issues, some of the comedic bits fell a little flat, it’s only because Langridge’s previous work set the bar so high (What? You haven’t read Fred the Clown, equal parts Charlie Chaplin and Monty Python? One of the funniest comics ever. Get it. Get it now. And while you’re at it, pick up his current Popeye series by IDW. And, oh, just get anything with his name on it!) The final issue of this crown jewel of the aforementioned kaboom! imprint provides a fitting close to the yarn, full of suspense, laughs and a lump in the throat (who knew the sentence “I like bananas.” could be so touching?) In a comic strip afterword, the lead character Wilburforce J. Walrus states that you should always leave them wanting more. Mission accomplished. Book of the Week. Well done sir, and good night.

Back and Forth: A Stitch in Time

16 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by in Back and Forth, Microviews

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Scott Carney: With a first page that leaves two-thirds of We3 in pieces on lab tables, Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #0 skulks its way toward a violent origin, one that plays out–thanks to the way Frank is depicted–like the birth of a pre-Atomic Age Hulk.  What a fun book!  Just turn to page 11.  I know what you’re hearing while looking at that scurvy bunch: you’re hearing a salty Obi-Wan Kenobi say forcefully: “Mos Eisley spaceport. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.”  Glorious!  The rest of the story reads well enough.  Necessary comment: Kindt’s father-son showdown–an expected but wholly appropriate climax–makes the mutant patricide of AvX look pedestrian in execution.  Just sayin’.  And, come on: a Nazi robot spider?  That’s right up there with gorillas with guns.  I’d like to also celebrate Ponticelli’s cover, which is my favorite of the zeroes.  Every time I look at the damn thing, I feel like that sword’s gonna come down and cut off something I might need.

Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #0 Cover

Derek Mainhart: Yeah that cover is really something. Best use of the whole “tearing through the page” conceit. For a book that initially seemed like it was going to be DC’s version of the Mike Mignola’s B.P.R.D., this title has really established itself as one of the most fun corners of the DCU. Jeff Lemire’s initial run was characterized  by  a wanton sense of absurdity, grounded (well, semi-grounded) by Frankenstein’s grave demeanor (pun intended!). Frank’s unwavering character anchored the stories allowing Lemire to introduce whatever wild sci-fi / horror tropes he could come up with. Matt Kindt’s run has continued in that vein but, in exploring the monster’s past, has introduced a level of pathos to the proceedings. This extra wrinkle, combined with Kindt’s refined appreciation of the ridiculous, have produced stories that thrill on a level that I would call epic, if “epics” didn’t take themselves so seriously. (To wit: your apt contrast of this with the “epic” AvX, which is simply awful. But that is perhaps grist for another discussion.) Alberto Ponticelli has visually really made this book his own. Some standout scenes, in addition to the ones you mentioned: page 6 as the freed mental inmates tear through the mansion past the Doctor’s poor sainted wife; and the palpable, kinetic action of the big fight scene in pages 17-20. I’ll be sad to see him go, as he moves over to Dial H (I’m also sorry to see Mateus Santoluoco leave that book). My one quibble about this issue was that it really should have ended at page 26, with the line “You can call me Father”. How apropos, no? The final two pages seemed tacked on for the benefit of new readers, I guess. Still, I’ll forgive it since those last pages include the aforementioned GIANT NAZI SPIDERS! Book of the Week.

A close second however was Rocketeer: Cargo of Doom #2 by Mark Waid and Chris Samnee (IDW). After a shaky first issue, Waid really seems to have found his footing here. There isn’t a wasted moment as the story propels from one improbable action scene to the next. Samnee draws a particularly effective sequence right away on pages 2-3 as the villain of the book is shown incapacitating the dangerous cargo of the title without revealing what the cargo actually is; a neat visual trick. Samnee’s visuals perfectly complement Waid’s retro tone, which is a gleeful combination of Indiana Jones, King Kong and perhaps a touch of Looney Tunes. Like Indy, its an homage to the propulsive movie serials of old, complete with the requisite, exquisitely unbelievable cliffhanger. Don’t miss it.

SC: I liked Winter Soldier #10, too.  Loved Guice’s layouts from the get-go; he gives stunning and shadowy life to the Widow’s unexpected awakening and to Jasper’s selfless final act.  Brubaker brings Captain America, Wolverine, and Hawkeye to Bucky’s side, creating a formidable cavalry to face down an increasingly formidable foe.  The romantic Parisian flashback, juxtaposing the rain and the pain, is tenderly rendered, and rounds out a seriously solid issue.  If this storyline  is Brubaker’s kiss goodbye to Marvel, it’s a French kiss, indeed.

DM: Big fan of Butch Guice’s artwork as well (this book has been blessed with some stellar artists), but this issue just seemed to be treading water to me. Brubaker spends the first nine pages rehashing events that the reader could have surmised from last issue (including a beloved SHEILD agent getting killed a la The Avengers movie). Then some expository dialogue explaining her brainwashing in more detail than is needed. And then the guest stars show up. (Wolverine seems kinda forced. Doesn’t he have enough to do?) It even ended on an awkward beat. Hopefully things will pick up next issue.

SC: Wouldn’t you know, with Wolverine and the X-Men #16, Aaron has pulled another one out of the Phoenix fire.  This time, he’s out of the damn crossover frying pan and into the Hellfire.  This Kilgore kid is bad-ass and has a killer back story to prove it–specifically a black and white one that Bachalo just absolutely blows up.  This is wicked fun that seems to be headed in the right direction–back to where it all started; back to what drew me to the book in the first place.

DM: Glad AvX didn’t ruin this book for you. (Did I mention it was awful?)

SC: The Shade #12 isn’t bad for a final issue.  Too often exceptional story arcs fall apart at the all-too-crucial end; but not this one.  Robinson mixes up some magic with an Oliver twist.  The art’s no joke: when the Scrooge-lookin’ Simon summons Scathach, Ha hits a high note driving the darkness into Dick.  Oh, I’m sure–well, I hope I’m sure–this isn’t the last we’ll see of the good Mr. Swift.  I mean, where else is Robinson going to shine but in The Shade?

DM: I’m going to miss The Shade. If the final two issues weren’t completely satisfying, it’s only because Robinson set the bar so high with the first ten. The roster of artists has been stellar, but the star of this series was the writing. Something about playing in the Starman universe seems to bring out the best in Mr. Robinson, and here we were treated to roguish imaginings in various eras filtered through the arched eyebrow of an Oscar Wilde dandy. Interesting that for this last issue the Shade’s teamed up with Charles Dickens. (It brought to mind the final issue of Sandman featuring William Shakespeare, right down to the lush period illustrations of Gene Ha.) My main quibble is that this didn’t feel like a last issue. The reintroduction of Simon Culp as his arch-nemesis, the mystery of why the goddess chose the Shade to receive his powers, the friendship with Dickens; all of these seem like plot threads of a series in mid-stride, not one that is winding down. Let’s hope you’re right and Robinson returns to this material soon. It’s the best stuff he’s written in years.

SC: The Valiant books were all right.  I wasn’t too impressed by the introduction of Ninjak in X-O Manowar #5.  But I did enjoy Aric’s arrogance; it reminds me so much of myself.  Harbinger #4 was a bit better with Pete’s almost losing Faith and then his really losing it over Joe.

DM: As someone who was, shall we say, less than enthused about the whole Valiant relaunch, I gotta say X-O is growing on me. I’m enjoying the artwork by Lee Garbett and Stefano Gaudiano (a touch of Hal Foster, no? A little Prince Valiant in Valiant?  Have I taken things too far?). And Robert Venditti’s tale of Roman slaves, time travel and pseudo-religious space invaders has never been less than a good time. (The grenade bit on page 12 alone was worth the price of admission)

SC: I may be done with Comedian after #3.  I may be nuts, too, but is there any doubt that Azzarello’s been dropping little hints about how he feels about this whole Before Watchmen venture.  The first hint pops up in Rorschach #1, when “Crime” tells Rorschach that he doesn’t quite live up to the myth.  Here, it’s not-so-hidden on pages 22-23, where Blake watches a dog take a dump on the sidewalk and then tosses a piece of crap at a police chief’s face.  Is it possible Azzarello’s not doing this on purpose?  Is it?  No, really, is it?

DM: Comedian was a bit of a letdown for me as well, though I think I liked it a little more than you. I enjoyed his moral ambivalence as he played all sides against each other simply because, well, he could. (And the art by J.G. Jones certainly doesn’t hurt.)  Having said that, I was disappointed that this is starting to read like an overly comprehensive flashback – “this happened, then this happened, then this, and so on” – an aspect that has been endemic in all of the Before Watchmen books. How about focusing in on just one compelling story and seeing what it reveals about the character?

SC: I am done with Suicide Squad after #0.  My soft spot for the book killed itself a few pages in.  That’s right: the Glass has finally cracked.  What a disaster.

Re: Batman #0: When does #13 come out?

DM: Yeah, what was the point of this issue again? After the laser-like focus and highwire tension of the Court of the Owls arc, this issue and the last one (which was better, a little) have meandered into territory that seems trivial at best. A lost opportunity for a zero issue.

To end on a high note I’d like to show some love to the following:

Stumptown: The Case of the Baby in the Velvet Case #1. (Oni Press) The title alone grabbed my attention. In his end piece, writer Greg Rucka extols the pleasures of the 70’s PI show, highlighting The Rockford Files. This first issue shares that show’s laconic tone and wry humor. No end-of-the-world stakes here. Just a seemingly routine mystery that begins with a missing guitar. Solid art by Matthew Southworth and Rico Renzi. Fans of detective fiction should check it out.

Dark Shadows #7. Speaking of the 70’s, Guiu Vilanova’s art, with it’s shaggy hair, handlebar mustaches and big-honkin’ police cars, captures the era of this book perfectly (This is a compliment. Really). Unlike the recent Tim Burton movie, writer Mike Raight, focuses less on the camp (which is inherent) and more on the horror. Fans of Dark Horse’s line of arcane horror books (Hellboy, et al.) should give this a try. Another solid book from Dynamite.

And finally, Punk Rock Jesus #3, the story of Christ’s second coming via cloning (story and art by Sean Murphy.) The art features a harsh, expressionistic (but never unreadable) line well-suited to its punk rock ethos. The character development and pacing may be a tad forced (I think this is Murphy’s first crack at writing), but this is more than made up for by the anarchic energy and send-up of modern society that the title so ably suggests. Definitely worth a look.

SC: Hmm.  You’re inspiring me to think outside my bag.  (I could hate you for it; but I don’t.  Not yet, anyway.)  Just when I thought it was safe to go back to the comic shop.

Turning pages,

Scott & Derek

The Kids Are Alright…

07 Friday Sep 2012

Posted by in Uncategorized

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Still a little behind, but I wanted to highlight some books from last week.

My Top Three Picks (as always, in reverse order, Bizarro –style!)

3. The Lone Ranger: Snake of Iron #2 – Dynamite really does a nice job with a lot of the old pulp heroes.  Their Flash Gordon: Zeitgeist, and its spin-off Merciless: The Rise of Ming have been good popcorn fun. Here, veteran writer Chuck Dixon combines historical detail with character-driven plot to craft a tale that satisfies modern sensibilities without sacrificing any of the elements that make the characters great to begin with. Similarly, Esteve Polls’ art displays a nice period feel without seeming old-fashioned. Any nostalgia arises honestly, from seeing classic characters well handled. Should appeal to both old fans an new.  

2. Popeye #4 – Similar accolades can be given to Roger Langridge’s superlative work on everyone’s favorite one-eyed sailor (published by IDW). Langridge and artists Vince Musacchia and Tom Neely, have done a remarkable job capturing the rollicking spirit of E.C. Segar’s original comic strip. Edited by designer and all-around Popeye expert Craig Yoe (and co-edited by Ted Adams and Clizia Gussoni), this book stays true to the source material (and the work of subsequent Popeye great Bud Sagendorf) with kinetic art, bright colors straight out of the Sunday funnies, and even the bold, seemingly hand-lettered words and sound effects. Langridge has a great feel for Popeye’s particular vernacular (“I yam prepared not ta kill ya on account of I yam magnanimisk!”), as well as the personalities of his supporting cast, who happily, do not get short shrift (this tale turns out to be as much Wimpy’s as Popeye’s).  He throws in Easter Eggs for hardcore geeks (like me), such as making a joke out of the ever-changing name of an imaginary foreign land (which in Segar’s original was unfortunately called Nazilia – this was in 1930, before such a moniker would have been in poor taste, to say the least). The story does perhaps get a tad wordy in spots. But with all of that, this heartfelt homage never manages to be less than FUN. (Even the backup – also a Segar creation – is funny). This is book that can be enjoyed by both die-hards and little kids alike. Bravo.

…and speaking of little kids –

1. Superman Family Adventures #4 – Art Baltazar and Franco are simply producing the best Superman book out there.

A last observation: The previous two titles are examples of a current trend of excellent comics geared for children. They are joined by a list that includes Snarked and The Muppet Show (both by Langridge – man’s on some kind of roll), Adventure Time, Axe Cop and a host of others, not to mention a slew of kids’ graphic novels (read Raina Telgemeier’s Drama now!) This is a heartening development. Cultivating the sense of wonder that comics gave each of us when we were kids (as we clutched them in our sticky little fingers) is a worthy goal that should be pursued by publishers and creators everywhere. It represents the future of comics.

Derek