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Yet another blogger hangs it up...Well, the time has come to set this little blog aside. I loved writing this when I had the time, but, unfortunately, I've often not had enough time to write, and I think that's caused the blog to suffer. I'd like to thank all of you who have read it over the last year and several months, and you can still frequently read reviews by me at silverbulletcomicbooks.com.
Thanks again, and I'll see you at the conventions. What If? #36 (1982)After enjoying John Byrne's artwork so much in yesterday's blog entry, I decided to pull out another Byrne comic from his golden era. This one's from four years later than the one I discussed yesterday, and it was released in the midst of Byrne's famous run on Fantastic Four, which is still being collected these days. The story is "What if the Fantastic Four had not gained their super-powers?" and it's actually rather fun. Instead of stealing a rocket and going into space, Reed waits and is able to travel to another galaxy and become a hero. One day, New York is attacked by a giant monster, the very creature from the cover of Fantastic Four #1, and Reed, Sue, Johnny and Ben try to find out what's going on. Of course, the monster is sent to the surface by the Mole Man, and hilarity ensues.
It's actually a very nice story. Byrne obviously loved the interplay between the characters and the way they integrated as a family, so he plays up the relationships between each of them. The story zips along, in some really pretty silly directions, but Byrne's confidence and passion for the material helps it along.
He artwork also helps it along. This story is both pencilled and inked by Byrne, so we're pretty much getting unfiltered John Byrne in this one. The art, on the whole, is pretty nice. He was an odd habit of doing sketchy drawings of undifferentiated blobs to take the place of backgrounds, but his illustrations of the main characters are just wonderful, and he uses some clever storytelling tricks. When Sue and Ben escape through an air shaft, the cross-section view of the shaft is really nice and clever.
I'm not a big fan of Byrne's current work, but this older stuff is wonderful. Avengers #181 (1978)In 1978, the two big artists were George Perez and John Byrne. Then as now, Perez was known for his amazing work with crowded super-hero comics, while Byrne was known for his ability to make his characters seem very human.
So it's neat to contrast two pieces of art, one by Byrne and the other by Perez, of the same scene. It's intriguing that Byrne's piece is clearly the better of the two.
Look at the two images. They're really almost exactly the same. The characters all appear next to each other in basically the same places and poses, but notice how much more life Byrne gives his illustration. Hercules, for instance, has a completely sort of rage on the Byrne page, more typically heroic for the character. Or notice how the Vision and Quicksilver both seem to hover around their beloved Scarlet Witch, showing how protected she was. The Black Panther is content to be himself, regal and open to the events, while Hawkeye is hostile to the government sticking its nose into the affairs of the Avengers.
It's really kind of cool to be able to compare and contrast like this. I wonder what some other artists would have done with the same scene.
(by the way, I apologize for the poor scan - I'm breaking in a new scanner) Micronauts #1 (1978)Best. Toy comic book. Ever.
So I picked up this comic book when on vacation in Victoria this weekend (had a wonderful time, thanks for asking, though it was a pain taking three extra ferries to get over there) and read the comic for the first time probably since I bought it back in the day. And the damn thing is wonderful. It's exciting, it has stunning artwork, the story moves like a rocket - the whole thing is so intriguing and interesting that it's easy to see why everyone loved this comic when it came out.
Much of the credit has to go to artist Mike Golden. Golden's been pretty much invisible in the industry over the last few years (I know he drew some Jackie Chan comics several years ago, but I have no idea what he's done in the last while), but he did some fantastic work during the Carter Administration. Golden, at least when paired with inker Josef Rubenstein, looks a bit like a more dynamic version of Bernie Wrightson, all full of emotion and action and a certain very particular feeling of strangeness that makes every scene look uniquely special. His depiction of the bizarre Time Traveller, slightly out of focus with the world around him, is spectacular, especially in light of the extremely limited production values of the time. And his depiction of the evil Baron Karza is stunning: when we first see Baron Karza, he's wearing a centaur's outfit, which makes the bad guy look very strange. Later, when he's got legs, it has the subtle effect of making readers wonder just what in the world the character is capable of.
It's generally agreed that Micronauts is writer Bill Mantlo's best work, and his writing really shines in this first issue. He does a terrific job of creating the settings of this comic without explaining too much, creating a setting that promises much more to come in the future. The writing is a bit florid, but it completely fits the grand action-adventure style of the comic.
I really don't remember how this series went after the team came to Earth, but now I really want to know. This was a terrific comic book. Ms. Marvel #6 (1977)On the short list of absurdly stupid super-hero outfits would be a charming little number worn by tonight's starlet, the one and only Ms. Marvel. No, your eyes don't deceive you. Marvel's latest super-hero sensation (in 1976, that is) flew int battle wearing a distaff version of Captain Marvel's costume. Well, a spectacularly sexist version of Cap's outfit. She had the wore the same chest symbol, bikini briefs and boots, but she wore an open belly (and open backed) version of the uni, along with bare legs, a scarf, and Farrah Fawcett hair. In other words, no, it is just as it looks: the woman has long sleeves, gloves and a scarf - and a bare midriff, back and legs.
Who is the genius who came up with this outfit, which is equally badly suited for very hot and very cold days? Chances are that it was comics great Johnny Romita, who worked as Marvel's art director in the mid-'70s. Romita designed most of the super-hero outfits of the era, and his style was sometimes quite bizarre. I wonder if Romita ever thought to run this cover past his wife, or one of the female Marvel staffers of the time, or one of his daughters. From their suggestions, maybe they would have given Ms. Marvel some flip-flops or snow boots to go either with the hot or cold theme. Ms. Marvel - the McDLT of her era. The hot side stayed hot while the cool side stayed cool.
Inside, Ms. Marvel was just as jumbled. She was created by the infamous Gerry Conway, who was notorious (at least with me) for his bizarre and poorly-thought-out heroes and series. In his short run at DC in '75 and '76, Conway bowed to fan pressure to revive the legendary Justice Society of America in their own series, but brought them back as supporting characters to a much-despised Super Squad. He revived Blackhawk, that book with World War II flying aces, but never had then actually fight in World War II. At Marvel, Ms. Marvel might have been Conway's most notorious book.
Setting aside the likelihood that the character was created mainly to keep copyright on the name, the character is a bizarre match of good ideas and ridiculous sexism. For instance, Ms. M. is actually Carol Danvers, who made a mint writing a book about the space program and her involvement with Captain Marvel. Okay, that's interesting enough. From there, Carol persuades J. Jonah Jameson, the guy who hates Spider-Man, to give her seed money to start a new magazine called Woman.
So stop right there. A confident career woman, with a background of security behind her, making her way in New York as the editor of a glamorous magazine published by a sexist pig, in mid-'70s New York. That could be a fun comic book. A bit silly, a bit romantic, a bit period. But this being Marvel, they had to have an overlay of heroic stuff on top of the plot. Okay, then, give Carol some limited powers that help to convey her independence and power at the time.
But noooo, to use a catch phrase of the era, Conway had to mess up a great concept. First, Ms. M had to wear in absurd costume. And have derivitive super-powers. And have an extra power, a "seventh sense" that is kind of a magnification of her woman's intuition that allows her to see the future.
Say what?
So what I guess I'm saying is that this whole thing is a big damn mess, but it shouldn't be. If only Marvel had been a little more Ms. in the Equal Rights Amendment sense of the word. If only they had played up something, anything, that would make Carol a unique heroine. but, really, they never do, and in the end it's just kind of sad and pathetic. This particular issue does feature some very early writing by Chris Claremont, and it's fine as far as it goes but he's still learning at this point. The art by Jim Mooney and Joe Sinnott is awfully nice in that kind of generic mid-'70s Marvel style that sends my mind in paroxyisms of glee. But in the end. Ms. M is just a lot of wasted potential. Best of the Legion Outpost (2005)The Legion Outpost is one of the oldest and most well-respected of all the comics fanzines. In 2004, as a sister title to their Legion Companion volume, TwoMorrows released an anthology of the best articles from the legendary zine. What is presented has some good, some bad and some odd aspects to it.
THE GOOD
Like all good fanzines, The Legion Outpost was driven in great part by passion and enthusiasm for the subject matter. Legion fans are justifiably famous for their love and encyclopedic knowledge of the longtime series. Thus we get articles such as an article about politics on the planet Bismoll (home of Matter-Eater Lad, don'tcha know?) or a look at the astrological signs of the heroes. While those articles are fun, a little of them go a long way for the casual fan. The nicest feature of the book is the plethora of commissioned art presented. The book includes art by such luminaries as Curt Swan, Dave Cockrum, Walt Simonson, George Perez, Sergio Aragones and many more. It's a joy to see all this wonderful art, and it really enlivens the book.
THE BAD
The low point of the book to me are some of the interviews. While some, like the interview with Jim Shooter, are very revealing, others are obscure and impossible to follow for the non-initiate. For instance, there's a nine-page interview with Roy Thomas. Thomas is a great and important figure in comics history, but he wrote maybe a half dozen Legion stories. What purpose is served by running a long interview with such an unimportant figure in Legion history? The interview with longtime Legion editor Mort Weisinger is disappointing in a different way. Weisinger seems defensive about his long editing career, taking great pains to defend himself against fan criticism of his work. It's a strange interview; I imagine a grandfatherly Weisinger lecturing youthful interviewer Matt Lage while Lage makes complaining faces behind Weisinger's back. It's not that Lage is disrespectful; it's more that Weisinger clearly has his own agenda and bitterness about some aspects of his career.
THE ODD
In the end, a lot of the material presented in BOLO is as obscure as it could possibly be. The interviews with pros are fun in an "inside comics" way, but there's just not a lot that crosses over to the non-Legion fan. A little bit more context would have helped a lot. Perhaps a time line of Legion history in the comics would have helped; I'm a casual Legion fan and but there was a lot of material in this book for which I just didn't have any context. With all my complaints, this is still a 3½ bullet book due to the passion of the contributors and the nice art that's presented. If you're a Legion fan, you probably already have and love this book. If you're not, your mileage might vary. Testament #5 (2006)"Do you see, now? Do you understand?" This line is said near the end of this issue between one character and another, and the great irony is that though we see what’s going on, we don’t really understand it. Not really. Testament's first story arc ends with this issue with some questions answered and many more left unanswered. For the first time, readers start to get a feel for all the odd cosmological events that have happened in this series this far. We see that events on Earth are in part a reaction to bizarre battles between different pantheons of gods. Events on Earth, past and present, are abstract cubes for the gods, worlds for them to access and influence, manipulate and create conflict. But what is the ultimate purpose of the gods on Earth? Is there indeed a purpose or is it all really, in an existential way, purposeless? Your reaction to this comic will really depend on a few things. First of all, it's absolutely necessary to read all five issues at once. I pity any reader trying to make sense of this comic who begins with this issue. The whole complex plot of the series simply doesn't make sense at all unless you can really get a feel for the characters' arcs. Secondly, you need to be a tolerant reader. You have to be tolerant of Old Testament stories turned upside down and seen in different lights. You have to be willing to see religions directly in conflict with each other, literally battling each other for supremacy. You also have to be tolerant of nudity and sexual activity, under various different circumstances. But mostly your enjoyment of this series will be directly proportional to your willingness to read a story that's full of bizarre moments, unexplained complexity, and odd mysteries. Testament is a book in which very strange things happen in very strange world to very strange people. Not a lot is explained. Much is implied, often by analogy, but little is actually spelled out for readers. For example, readers receive no explanation of the evil Mr. Fallow, with no explanation for the bizarre libertine lifestyle that surrounds him. It's not even clear if Mr. Fallow is a literal presence or one of the Gods, since his world is so abstracted from the real world of the story. The series seems to carry the promise that Mr. Fallow's motivations and background will come out in time, but without that, the reader is left to interpret cryptic pieces such as the weird cover of issue #5 or the bizarre things shown in the background in his mansion without a lot of help from writer Douglas Rushkoff. Readers are told that Fallow is the face of evil, but in a world with a vast cosmology of godlike entities, what does that term actually mean? Personally I really have enjoyed this first arc. It's a ballsy move for Vertigo to release a comic that so boldly pushes the boundaries. I haven't looked at the Diamond sales charts, but I'd be shocked if this comic wasn't one of the lowest selling comics in the line. This isn't a book like Y: the Last Man, Fables or DMZ, where the central concept of the comic can be contained in one pithy line. In fact, at the end of the first arc, I'm left trying to explain the comic by describing its themes: mankind's struggle for independence against almost insurmountable odds, perhaps. Or mankind's struggle for deeper meaning in a world driven in part by a group of self-serving manipulators. There's heroism in this comic, but it's an odd sort of heroism. When Abraham fights the giants, or when Jake and Miriam fight to free their friends, neither is done out of altruism, really, nor are they done out of simple self-interest. Their lives and actions seem to be driven by a higher purpose, a loftier goal somehow. People are striving to transcend their nasty and brutish lives, find some great kernel of individuality in worlds where individuality is only tolerated within specific limits. In the end, what makes Testament remarkable is its expectations of readers. This is simply not a comic book in which good triumphs over evil, or in which a hero goes on a quest to find or resolve a great personal problem - though there are elements of each in this comic. Instead, Douglas Rushkoff challenges readers to embrace a different sort of story, something that defies tradition and finds its own pace and style and feel, in which characters reveal themselves in odd and interesting ways. It is a comic book that embraces ambiguity and complexity. It is a comic book where the reader is asked to form his own conclusions about the characters and the plots and the motivations of everyone in the book. Rushkoff asks a lot from his readers. I should also mention the remarkable job that Liam Sharp does with the art. Sharp adds immeasurably to the comic with his complex and detailed depictions of people and places. I have no way of knowing how much Rushkoff’s stories give Sharp, but it seems he’s given pretty free reign to create his vision of the world of this comic, and given the freedom to experiment with some very strange page layouts. As much as Rushkoff’s writing, Sharp’s art pushes the comic literally off-center with his unique page designs and thoughtful character depictions. Rushkoff asks a lot of Sharp in this series, and Sharp consistently delivers work that lifts the comic to some uniquely exciting heights. In these days of hyped-up civil wars and one year time jumps, isn't it great that one of the largest comics publishers in the world offers something with real complexity and ambiguity? Testament isn't a perfect comic book, but it's a damn interesting one. Firestorm: the Nuclear Man #25 (2006)What a fun comic book. And what a pleasant break from comics with all-out world shattering events that will change comics as we know it forever. Firestorm is a very solid, very traditional super-hero comic where readers can have wonderful non-ironic, non-post-modern fun watching a good guy fight some bad guys. In this case, Firestorm battles old arch-enemy Killer Frost, who's teamed up with the Batman's nemesis Mister Freeze to make ol' flamehead's life miserable. Killer Frost forces Firestorm to fly to the sun, where the two people who inhabit Firestorm's body, Jason and Lorraine, get help from an unexpected source to defeat her. That unexpected source leads up to the great OYL mystery of this series, and should lead to interesting plot threads in the future. Stuart Moore's script crackles with clever lines, whether it's Killer Frost, on her way to the sun, talking about how she needed to travel more, or Batman's stunning speech to Firestorm. That script makes for a fun, fast and charming read. Igle and Champagne's art, along with David Baron's coloring, is appropriately light and bright for this comic. There are clever moments in the art, such as many different incarnations of Firestorm defeating Killer Frost, but those moments don't take away from the story at all. This is a tremendously solid super-hero comic, well worth reading. Strangehaven: Brotherhood (2000)Strangehaven is a town somewhere in the middle of nowhere in England, where people stray by accident and never leave. "If she doesn't want you to leave, then you ain't goin' nowhere. ...The village, Alex. She's a living thing, just like you or I. You're here for a reason. We're all here for a reason. This is where you're supposed to be right now. Don't waste time trying to figure it out." one character says to another as they discuss their unusual town. The fact is that it's a damn interesting town, with its predilection for strange characters. There's Megaron, who's half Amazonian warrior, and Adam who thinks he's a space alien. There are many more ordinary folks too, including a strange predilection the town has for twins. And there's also a secret society in the town, acting on its own behalf, carrying great secrets.
This is an extremely odd book. On one hand, it's a very languid and charming look at the ins and outs of a small town. Writer/artist Gary Millidge takes great pains to really explore his characters, and make the readers get a feel for who they really are and for the lives they've led. He's quite fond of two or three page autobiographical flashbacks in which characters tell their stories. It's an interesting technique because it literally allows the characters to speak for themselves in this narrative. We get involved in the characters, really being involved in their odd lives.
There's one scene that especially caught my imagination. There's a character whose life is spinning out of control. He sits in front of the TV watching Fawlty Towers thinking about his wretched life when Basil Fawlty steps out of the TV and begins lecturing the man about his life. Sure, it's not a totally original twist, but damn it, it's Basil Fawlty, John Cleese! How cool is that?
At the same time, something odd is going on in the small town of Strangehaven, and we readers have trouble really focusing on it. Just what is the magnetic focus of the town? How does it keep people in its orbit without them spinning out? Just what is the secret society, and how does its inexorable movements cause the fascinating ending which concludes this issue?
If I have one complaint about this book, it's that the drama of the secret society is too hidden within the pages. Millidge is subtle, and there are undercurrents of tension in the story, but they're not tremendously overt. Maybe that's a British thing, but as an American I always want to see more menace.
Anyway, wonderful book. Check it out. Jonah Hex #7 (2006)So far the Jonah Hex revival has been wonderful. Each done-in-one issue has offered thrills, excitement, and wonderful twists and turns. This issue is no exception.
What makes this issue a bit exceptional is its relentless darkness. After a groom is killed at a wedding, Hex seeks vengeance, but in the end, none of the copious death seems to be worth the struggle. Unusual for this comic, there were a number of places where things didn't flow as well as they should have. The key problem for me was that for some reason the key event of the story, the murder of the groom, happens slightly off-panel. We see guns firing, then a close-up of the bride splattered with blood, and then it's just assumed that he is dead in the next panel. The scene loses some of its energy by not showing the actual event.
Another problem with this issue is that Hex seems too much a super-hero and not enough a conflicted anti-hero. I can accept that he's the fastest draw in the west, and the best marksman this side of Clint Eastwood, but the scene where Hex unerringly throws a sheriff’s star without being shot really strains credulity. Sure Hex is a great shot, but can he throw like Roger Clemens, too?
There are some terrific scenes in the comic, too. The opening scene, with Hex walking out of a blazing inferno like some spirit of hellish vengeance, is spectacular. And Ross does a wonderful job of drawing distinct faces that look like they're actually from the era he depicts.
But this issue was slightly less good than some of the other issues of this run. I loved the darkness and the energy of the story, but I can't escape the feeling it could have been even better than it was. Captain Marvel #8 (1968)Man, I know I read this comic but I can't remember anything about it. I just read it a few days ago, maybe on the weekend, and I remember it was a comic I wanted to blog about. But damn it if I pick the comic up today and don't remember anything about it. I remember noticing Captain Marvel's amazingly ugly costume, and I think I remember the Don Heck/Vince Colletta art that actually doesn't look like Colletta inked it. Oh, and I do remember Carol Danvers, the woman who would become Ms. Marvel, appears on the final page and acts like a withering sterotype of a pre-women's lib chickadee.
But beyond that I don't remember a damn thing. Teacher, you'll have to give me an incomplete for today's work. Silver Star: Graphite Edition (2006, reprinting comics from 1982)There are gods among us. They’re not homo sapiens but homo geneticus. The homo geneticus are the next breed. These men and women are incredibly powerful, almost Biblically powerful. The good and loyal Silver Star, homo geneticus Vietnam vet Morgan Miller, possesses amazing powers that set him against the evil homo geneticus Darius Drumm, whose overwhelming evil would transform him into the living personification of the Angel of Death. This is the story of Jack Kirby’s last great creation, an imaginative tour de force that shows that the imagination of the King of Comics continued to soar as he aged into his 70s. Silver Star is another epic story to set alongside Kirby’s other creations. It may not be the equal in terms of the mythological impact of the New Gods or Fantastic Four, but as a creation from late in the man’s life, it’s spectacular. John Morrow explains the story’s genesis in his introduction. Apparently Kirby first imagined this story as a movie script in the ‘70s, but nothing ever came of the script. As was true of dozens of Kirby Kreations, Silver Star sat on the shelf for many years. In late 1982, Pacific Comics approached Kirby for a companion book to his Captain Victory, which Pacific was publishing at the time. Kirby resurrected his idea of Silver Star for Pacific, creating a six-issue series. Now, as part of its plans to raise funds for the Jack Kirby Museum and Research Center, TwoMorrows has reprinted the series in a collected edition, mainly shot from Kirby’s pencils. For long-time Kirby fans, of course, this book is essential. Kirby fans will find so much to enjoy here: the wonderful look at over a hundred unlinked pages, a copy of the unproduced screenplay, and a nice black-and-white edition of a wonderful Kirby story. But what about the general comics fan, who is only a bit of a Kirby fan? There the story is a little more mixed. It’s fair to say that in his later years, Kirby wasn’t quite the master cartoonist he had been in his glory days. Kirby’s line work was a bit less precise, his characters were less consistent in appearance, and he frequently didn’t draw backgrounds in his scenes. On the other hand, though, Kirby’s eye for action and excitement didn’t go away, and he more than lives up to his reputation for drawing amazing action scenes. What I think both Kirby loyalists and casual fans will enjoy the most is the thoughtful characters in this story. Darius Drumm is a wonderfully evil character. He’s truly evil, a scene chewer of Shatnerian proportions who is somehow completely captivating in his villainy. When Drumm literally embodies the angel of death at the end of this collection, he’s genuinely frightening. I also liked the character of Norma Richmond, the movie stuntwoman who is also homo geneticus. She’s brave and forthright, but she also has a bit of an edge that makes her feel realistic. The story also has an epic feel, no surprise from Kirby. This is a big story, with a global reach, that feels massive, like the big Hollywood blockbuster that Kirby no doubt imagined it to be. Giants stride major cities, men destroy tanks, and armies of slaves are obliterated in the course of the story. This is an epic story as only King Kirby could create it. It’s not the greatest work he did in his amazing career, but Silver Star is still incredibly exciting and tremendously interesting. Doctor Who (2006): "The Girl in the Fireplace"I think it's clear that the new season of Doctor Who is raising the stakes over even the amazing previous season. This episode, much like the previous "School Reunion", continues the exploration of who the Doctor really is. In doing so, it explores a new frontier in Doctor Who: the frontier of the Doctor's emotional world.
"The Girl in the Fireplace" takes the Doctor to places he's never really explored. Sure, he's wandered space and time. But why? What motivates a man to basically be a tourist in space and time, a man who travels, chastely, with companions but never completely embraces those companions in his heart? What motivates a man to act that way?
The Doctor's relationship with Madame de Pompadour is one of the most mature of his life, and also perhaps the most honest. Always before the Doctor has been able to hide his inner life behind a facade of excitement and adventure. By playing the action hero, always having a planet and running, the Doctor is able to be important while also being anonymous. As was explored in last year's Slitheen episodes, the Doctor is able to act without ever having to face the ramifications of his actions.
This episode explores that aspect of the Doctor even further. When the Doctor literally opens up his mind to Madame de Pompadour, she's able to see the Doctor as he sees himself. Since the Doctor has always been perhaps the least introspective of all the action heroes, the one who's been the most secretive about his past, he's always had a unique air of mystery about him. No matter how many times viewers visited Gallifrey, we still didn't know much about the Doctor. Viewers had no idea of how he grew up, what life was like growing up on his planet, no idea of the events that shaped the Doctor's psyche. Perhaps it was always untentional, but for a man character, in many ways the Doctor has always been a cipher.
Now we are really getting to see the real man, and we see it in many ways, whether it's his wonderful relationship with Rose, his offhand dismissal then embrace of Mickey, his awkward reunion with Sarah Jane, or his somewhat adult relationship with Madame de Pompadour, we are finally getting to see who the Doctor is: a bit short-tempered, a bit cold, a bit afraid of ever getting close to anyone
The story of the Doctor's doomed love affair is as wonderful thoughtful and complex as any episode has been. David Tennant has proven to be a wonderful Doctor, far more complex and far less tormented than Christopher Eccleston's Doctor. It makes sense that after a time of mourningthat the Doctor become more introspective and even grow more as a person. It's nice to see this begin to play out.
Doctor Who season two has grown from being a diverting science fiction romp into a wonderfully new-feeling and intelligent series. Mage #2 (1984)It used to be said that the audience for comic books would turn over every four years. In other words, the vast majority of readers would be entirely different for comics every four years. My the early '80s that began to change, as for some reason readers began to stick around longer. I guess it's a chicken-and-egg thing whether the rise in comic shops, intelligent content and better production values made people stick around longer, or whether that was the result of fans sticking around.
I think it's funny and maybe a bit ironic that the rise in comics happened soon after their nadir. It's often been said that without the massive success of their Star Wars adaptation, Marvel would have died in the late '70s. And yet comic shops and independent comics rose to the fore soon after that nadir. Again, you have to wonder if there's a chicken-egg effect going on there. Did Star Wars create the groundwork for a revolution in comics, or were the companies lucky in cashing in?
Whatever the reason, there's a dramatic difference between yesterday's entry in my blog and today's entry. "The Liberty Legion" was driven by the passion of Roy Thomas for the 1940s, but his vision was compromised by his need to stay within Marvel's parameters and the overriding need to publish pages in a color comic book. Production quality and depth of thought were secondary to the relentless need to create more pages on schedule. Mage is just the opposite. It's driven by the passion of Matt Wagner, the creator, who had a clear vision of a comic series tht reflected his own particular view of life. The comic was delivered on Wagner's schedule, done in a way that was satisfactory to him, and if the comic were to miss a deadline, it was assumed to be part of the cost of doing business.
It's interesting to read an early issue Mage because Wagner was still so obviously a work in progress. His art style was awkward and his faces wouldn't have the grace and charm that they would later, but Wagner's passion wins out in these comics. He's free to set his own pace, so Wagner takes his time, creating mysteries that both the reader and protagonist Kevin Matchstick will learn over time. It's amazing to consider how much Wagner's art progressed in just a year; by the time he reached issue 10, this comic was really rocking and rolling. Marvel Premiere #30: the Liberty Legion (1976)This is such a damn typical Roy Thomas comic book. The story takes place in World War II, which is one of Roy the Boy's recurring obsessions. Again and again his work returned to that era. The Liberty Legion was envisioned as a spin-off of Roy's Invaders comic, which had premiered about a year earlier and apparently had some pretty decent sales, if Marvel was willing to consider a spin-off so quickly.
Or maybe the issue is that Roy was obsessed with World War II heroes. He's well known for being one of the world's biggest fans of the Justice Society, that sterling group of heroic figures who represented many of the finest DC heroes of the '40s. Even in his fan days, Roy obsessed over the JSA, writing long articles about the heroes and talking up their comics every chance he got. In fact, I think I have a bit of a knee-jerk reaction against the golden age JSA due to Thomas's continual brow-beating about the series. How can the comics possibly measure up to Thomas's high regard for them?
But as you might have guessed from the title of this comic, it was for Marvel and not at DC. At Marvel, Roy created his own golden age group called the Invaders. This is a fondly-remembered but quite odd series, featuring the front-line heroes of Marvel's predecessor Timely Comics as they fought Nazis and Japanese during World War II. It was an odd comic in part because though the Invaders actually did fight in the European Theatre during the war, they never actually affected the outcome of any major battles. How super were Captain America and Bucky, the Human Torch and Toro, or the Sub-Mariner if Hitler and Tojo's war plans weren't even dented?
It was also an odd comic due to the very strange art by Frank Robbins and Frank Springer, which I promise to talk about in the future. It's fascinatingly weird.
But I'm here to talk about the Liberty Legion instead of the Invaders. The Legion was meant to encompass some of Timely's second-rate heroes of World War II, including crappy Cap rip-off the Patriot, speedster the Whizzer (most embarassing hero name ever) and a bunch of even more obscure second-raters: Red Raven (who had the virtue of being Jack Kirby's least successful creation ever, lasting exactly one issue), a stretchy hero called the Thin Man, a heroine with the truly odd name Miss America, and a really cold dude who called him Jack Frost. Yeah, Jack Frost. I wonder if he liked chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
In other words, these characters were amazingly obscure and hokey, by definition a group of second-raters who barely rated appearances even in the '40s. Perfect fodder for Thomas.
Sometimes these sorts of revivals can be fun. It's become a cliche of the post-modern comics to have obscure characters reappear in order to call out bizarre plot threads and provide fanboys a glimmer of excitement. But this comic is actually kind of stupid. The highlight of it is the Legion standing along the first base line at Yankee Stadium while waiting for hypnotized Invaders to fly down and attack them, because they're under the control of who else but the Red Skull.
The team only appeared one other time, later that year in another story by Roy Thomas. It shouldn't be surprising that this team failed: there's nothing seperating this group of fifth-raters from any others, no reason to really care about these empty costimes. X-Men: Deadly Genesis #6 (2006)Today the news came out that our shockingly inept and increasingly cartoonish President has been engaged in keeping track of the phone calls of ordinary Americans. Ordinary people like you and me, our calls are being tracked by these idiots, for god knows what reason. It's so spooky and Orwellian and bizarre. Of course, it's all in the name of finding the terrorists, but of course, like so many other tasks they've taken on, only serves to boomerang and make the administration look like the real threat to the American way of life. In their headstrong and systematic approach to stealing as many basic American rights away from the ordinary American, and in their systematic approach to creating a dictatorship without checks or balances, the Bush administration is continually putting their interests before those of any of us who live in this country.
All of this leads me to this nasty and despicable comic book. Like George W. Bush, the Charles Xavier in this comic book systematically puts his interests ahead of those of his students. He lies and manipulates and acts much more like a villain than a hero. Hell, Professor X acts devious and evil, a true villain.
This is even worse than having Gwen Stacy deliver a baby without it never being revealed because she wasn't actually evil. Professor X is an evil man in this comic. Forty-five years of depiction has been subverted by an ill-considered and stupid comic book.
I have to give you a little background to even explain this story, which may in itself be the biggest indictment of this comic. It turns on an event that isn't quite obscure - in fact it happens in what may be the most frequently reprinted comic book of the 1970s, Giant-Size X-Men #1, the first issue featuring the "new X-Men." In that issue, the original X-Men (the group with the Beast, Iceman, Angel, Havok, Marvel Girl and Cyclops) have gone missing after a mission where they attack a mutant so vast that it's an actual whole Pacific island. Professor X goes around the world and recruits a new set of X-Men (Wolverine, of course, and Storm, Nightcrawler and a few others who escape my mind now - Banshee, the Japanese guy and the American Indian guy who died two issues later) who brave the odds and save the original X-Men. Well, Deadly Genesis is what they call a retcon, short for retroactive continuity, where a past event is changed to add more information.
In my experience, almost all retcons are badly thought-out wastes of time that only serve to muck up characters and make nice simple stories unnecessarily complicated. This one's a perfect example, plus it adds character assassination to the problem. See, after the original X-Men were lost, Professor X recruited another set of new X-Men, a group of four bland characters who failed at saving the original team, one of whom is the brother of Cyclops and Havok. So the new team fails and all of them die, including the brother. The new team comes in and saves the day, eventually becoming the X-Men we all know and love, who all idolized and worked for Professor X.
So let me underline what is revealed here: instead of telling Scott and Havok (can't remember his real name) that their previously unknown brother had dies, Professor X lies to everybody for years and years. The very man they trusted with their lives, whom they literally trusted with their thoughts, had lied to them over the greatest secret of their past. For no real reason. So basically they shit on the reputation of a character that's been around for 45 years, and for what? What do readers get from this revelation? That Professor X is a manipulator and liar?
There's more crap here, too: Professor X is walking, and somehow has lost his mutant abilities. There's no reason given for that, but what the hell, why should Marvel help its readers?
This is all so far away from the traditional Marvel style and ideal, so offensive on so many levels, that you have to wonder just why the hell Marvel would put out such a thing.
Utterly wretched. Doc Frankenstein #4 (2006)If you want outrageous, all-out supernatural adventure, this is the comic book for you. In Doc Frankenstein #4, the Wachowski Brothers tell the story of how the Frankenstein Monster and the Werewolf got to be great friends - in an old west shootout where each gets shot at least a dozen times without harm. If one can't kill the other, then why not go get drunk together? Meanwhile, in the present, Frankenstein is on the run from a pack of marauding werewolves, no relation to his old friend, and Vickie Von Frankenstein, "the great, great granddaughter of the modern Prometheus, Victor," is working on her own plans to bring about live via parthenogenesis. And our werewolf and his human friend are flying a very cool jet in an attempt to help someone.
This isn't the most intellectually stimulating comic out there, but it's tremendously outrageous fun. Any comic that starts with a character literally crapping bullets and ends with Frankenstein attacked by werewolves has to be wild, and the Wachowski Brothers and artist Skroce completely embrace that wildness. This is brilliantly, wildly, fun. Strange Girl #8 (2006)So a few weeks ago I reviewed Strange Girl #7 and gave it a really positive review. Rick Remender's story charmed me: I said it provided atmosphere, thrills, surprises and a sweet ending. But what really excited me about the comic was Harper Jaten's artwork. Jaten's art was spectacular, hyper-detailed and exciting.
The problem is that Harper Jaten was apparently a fill-in artist.
Oh, there's nothing wrong at all with Jerome Opena's art on this issue. It's clean and well-rendered, dynamic and interesting. Opena has a way with providing his panels with interesting angles and terrific dynamism. But Jaten - he was something really special. Jaten's art was magically memorable for me. Honestly, some of the scenes in Jaten's issue still stick in my mind, and I think I've fallen into being a big fan of his work almost accidentally. So I really miss him in this comic.
Is that wrong? Is it unfair for me as a reviewer to complain about an artist because he's not another artist? I try to be honest in my reviews, and this was my overwhelming reaction to this issue. So make of this review what you will.
To be a bit more dispassionate again, this issue's story is exciting and fun. Remender delivers his usual mix of excitement and humor, a thrilling battle with some very nasty demons. The issue depicts the battle betwen a grou of human military troops, who have Beth, the Strange Girl on their side, as they battle to escape a very strange place in which demons live. Beth is half human, half demon, and seems to be fighting her own impulses as everone attempts to break free, There are some especially memorable scenes in this comic, especially one where some people prove to be quite inhuman indeed.
So a strange review for a strange comic. This is a good comic, it's just been even better in the past. Ghost Rider #35 (1979)Jim Starlin was obsessed with death. Obsessed. Completely fascinated with death. In Jim Starlin comics, was a literal, living being, one that lived in the physical world as much as any lead character.
To wit: Ghost Rider #35, written and laid out by Judo Jim, in which Jonnny Blaze, the flaming skull hero known as the Ghost Rider, rides his motorcycle in a literal race against death. Yes, a literal race. Death shows up to threaten Johnny, and wears awesome black leathers "to die for" and some reflective sunglasses. Johnny wins, of course, but not before an innocent dies and another almost dies.
Actually, if you set aside your prejudices and enjoy this comic for what it is, this is a very entertaining comic book. The art is professional and very slick - there's probably inks by about a half dozen inkers in this comic - and the story is pretty darn interesting. I liked the treachery and nastiness of death, and the way that death tries to cheat Johnny in order to get what he wants.
Clearly this isn't the cute and seductive death of Neil Gaiman's Sandman series. This death is an asshole, a truly evil creature that only cares about itself (himself?). I love the way Death looks when he first appears, all threatening and nasty as he stares down Blaze.
I remember this issue especially much since it was a rare moment of quality in the midst of a very long line of mediocre or worse GR stories. Ghost Rider was a comic that was notorious for ever-chaning creative teams and never finding a consistent stiryline. Things were constantly changing in this series, which made the series a tedious read. If the flaming skull of the hero wasn't so damn cool looking, the series would have died long before '79. It got good towards the end of its run, around the early '80s. but by then the series' reputation had done it in.
But this issue is well worth checking out. Infinite Crisis #7 (2006)Okay, I reviewed all the previous issues of this series in this blog, so I have to review the final issue, too. The problem is that all the strong and weak points of the issue were pretty much summed up in previous posts about it.
On the good side I liked the spectacle of the story, the feeling that literally hundreds of costumed heroes and villains were fighting each other. I love that you can look at literally any page and see and see some obscure character or other in battle. That's fun, and really fulfills a lot of the hidden agenda of a comic like this one. C'mon, we all know as longtime fanboys and girls that the real thrill of a comic like this is seeing our elementary school dream of "let's see all the superheroes fight all the supervillains" down on paper. Hell, Jim Lee's cover alone fulfills that dream in spades.
Who really cares if the plot is sketchy and the Earth-Prime Superboy is kind of a cheezy and weak villain and the whole plot doesn't make a ton of sense? Does it really need to? This isn't a book like Civil War that attempts to bring in some sorts of real-world concerns, or even Identity Crisis that tries to overlay adult themes on superhero stories. Instead, this series is simple escapism, a raw bold and colorful thrill ride that doesn't accomplish any more or less than it is expected to.
The series also accomplished its other aim: to be a springboard for other DC series, and help to reinvigorate the DC line with its One Year Later gimmick.
A big, bold, bright and empty series that gains new readers while not driving away too many of the old readers? That's gotta be a success for someone.
Astro City: the Dark Age #1-4 (2005)I was reading this comic today with the events of Marvel's Civil War comic in mind, and te difference betwen these two comics shows the difference between a writer like Kurt Buseik who "gets it" and a writer like Mark Millar who doesn't.
Busisk grew up on super-hero comics, and really loved their genre trappings. Like his good friend Scott McCloud, Busiek embraced the traditions of super-hero books, but twisted them in his own unique direction. McCloud created the wonderful Zot! as his first major series, a comic that embraced the wonderful escapism of the Golden Age books while also embracing a modern sensibility. Busiek created Marvels as his first major attention-getting series, a series that showed the super-hero universe from the eye of an ordinary person, and followed that series up with Astro City, a very personal look at many of the same themes as Marvels.
The comparison to Marvels is appropriate since The Dark Age is, according to Busiek, an adaptation of the proposed plot of Marvels II, which would have explored the so-called Bronze Age of Marvel. The Bronze Age reflected the concerns and approaches of the '70s, and were filled with doubt and confusion about the nature of heroism. Busiek does a great job in this series of exploring the confusion of a country dealing with the double body blows of Watergate and Vietnam, though in this world those blows are intensified by the ever greater frustrations people feel about being pawns in games played by super-heroes and -villains that are way beyond their comprehension, let alone their understanding. As heroes became more cosmic and complicated, they lost their connection to ordinary people.
The main plot thread of this story is the plight of the Silver Agent, a Captain America analogue who has been accused of murder and treason at the peace talks for the Vietnam War, and is brought up for trial for his crimes. In a close parallel to the events of Civil War, the people of this world are divided in their opinion of the hero, revealing real diffrences in the people who live in the society.
The real difference betwen the two books, though, is in the way that each writer creates the scene. Busiek's story of the disillusionment people have with the heroes really feels like emotions that have crept up on people for awhile. Busiek is wonderful at helping readers get a real perspective on the changes by showing how his ordinary people are getting ever more fed up with the state f their world.
On the other hand, Millar's take feels much more arbitrary. We've seen mutants persecuted in the Marvel Universe for many years, but until very recently, heroes like the Fantastic Four and the Avengers have been idolized and cheered by ordinary people. They've saved the world many times, and the people love those heroes for that. It's true that there's a horrific event at the beginning of the book that triggers the story's events, but rather than acting as the culmination of peoples' perceptions of the heroes, it is the triggering event. It may be unfair to ding Millar for not having control of books doesn't write, but there is also no mention of any other events that lead to the government's drastic actions in this issue. Instead of feeling like a story that progresses logically from story threads, this story instead feels like something that was grafted on to plot threads in order to create a big story.
It's not that Civil War is a bad story - it has some intriguing elements. It's more that it's striking to see how gracefully Busiek handles the story elements in contrast to Millar.
The Thing #6 (2006)First of all, that new Spider-Man costume? Hideous. It's absolutely hideous. There's just no way to defend the thing. This is the first time I've seen the costume in an actual comic book, and this comic confirms my first impressions from the internet. It's awful. I mean, whose idea was it for the costume to have three extra arms. Three? You idiots, a spider has eight legs. So why the holy hell does Spider-Man have seven limbs with the new suit?
But that's kind of a digression, isn't it? The comic in front of me today is the Thing, not New Avengers, but the problem is that there's just not a whole lot to grab hold of here. Dan Stott has yet to write a bad comic, in my opinion, but this one is just a bit bland and unexciting. The Thing is fighting the Trapster and the Sandman when he calls for his companions in the Fantastic Four. Each of them is busy, but Spider-Man answers the call and helps his pal out. They defeat the bad guys, hang out, have a few nice moments together, and leave. It's ordinary, kind of cute, but ultimately nothing all that special feeling.
Or maybe my problem is either Kieron Dwyer's art or Laura Villari's colors. Whoever's responsible for the extra detail on the figures and the painted look of the Thing's body kind of misses the point of a story like this. This comic doesn't require extra detail. Bright and simple would have ruled the day here, as it did when Ty Templeton drew Stott's Spider-Man/Human Torch mini-series. Instead everything appears a muddle somehow.
This comic isn't all bad. There are several typical Stott gags, including a cute cameo from Hercules and the funny reason that the Torch can't help Ben. And I chuckled at the "Lost" joke. But overall this comic was slightly disappointing. Rocketo volume 1: Journey to the Hidden Sea (2006)I’ve been staring at this collection for about three weeks now, and I’m having trouble finding the right words to describe it. I mean, it’s easy to say it’s wonderful, fascinating, thrilling, completely unique, feeling like a new mythology emerging full-born from the mind and pen of Frank Espinosa. But how do I describe such a singular book? Every aspect of Rocketo’s world is completely unique. Rocketo is a mapper, one of a group of men with special skills who are able to find their way from anywhere to anywhere in a world where dangers are everywhere. Mappers explore the mysterious world of the New World, guiding others to where they want to go. Rocketo Garrison has had many adventures, gone on many journeys, and decides he wants to take one final journey: to the fabled Hidden Sea. The summary of the plot makes the book sound unique, but in its execution, this book is more than unique. It’s almost mythical. Espinosa’s book echoes Homer’s Odyssey in its lyrical and emotional tale of a man on a long journey through bizarre places, with his companions by his side. Every element of Espinosa’s creation work together to create a world in which great men take on great tasks, in which men are the products of their pasts, and which those men have destinies to fulfill. This book is a wonderful combination of spectacular art, gorgeous coloring, and, perhaps most importantly, an almost mythical sense of place and time. Listen, for instance, to this prophecy from the king of the sea, an enormous and legendary sea creature:
There’s something poetically wonderful about that scene, the way the words are composed and the reactions of the travelers. The scene bespeaks of a larger world, one where lessons have been lost and gained, where men and creatures have lived long and complex lives intertwined with each other. More importantly, it’s a world full of surprises, where dangers are unique and people take all shapes and sizes. Espinosa’s art and coloring are as surprising and unique as his writing. He has a wonderful style that is loose and cartoony like the best of Paul Dini while maintaining its own unique feel. More than that, he uses his coloring directly intertwined with his line-work to create a world that is both completely unique and completely convincing in its own way. This is a spectacularly impressive book. I actually find myself pulling it out at odd moments and looking again at the amazing artwork. It’s the kind of book that reminds you that when comics are done best, everything looks easy and graceful and beautiful. It’s only May, but Rocketo is going to be hard to beat as the best graphic novel of the year. Doctor Who (2006): "School Reunion"When I started watching Doctor Who, back in the day, much of its magic came from the show's long and fascinating history. I was intrigued by the old Doctors, his companions and their old adventure. It made the whole enterprise feel like it had an interesting past, something that came before the sometimes cheesy adventures that I enjoyed. Much like how I was fascinated with the Marvel universe's past when I started reading comics, so too was I fascinated by the past of the Doctor.
The third episode of the second season of Doctor Who is all about that feeling. If you haven't heard, old companions Sarah Jane Smith and robot dog K9 are back in this charming episode. And yeah, it's the same Sarah Jane that the 4th Doctor left back on Earth over 25 years ago. (or is it 30? Holy cow!) Her reconnection with the Doctor is so charming, so interesting and thoughtful and funny and funky that this episode is just pure magic to me. And seeing cute little K9, with not a rivet changed on his little metal head (aside from some very clever aging) was an equally wonderful touch.
What seperates this run of Doctor Who from its previous incaranations is, in part, that it deals the ramifications of the Doctor's actions. Just as the Doctor was called to task when drinking tea with a Slitheen, in this episode the Doctor is held to task for his thoughtless actions with Sarah Jane, leaving her behind in England while he galavanted through the galaxy. The writing does a nice job of painting Sarah Jane as a forerunner of Rose, as a woman who had her entire life changed when she met the strange Time Lord, and whose seperation from the Doctor creates a gap she can never fill. There's literally nothing that Sarah Jane can do to fill the gap in her life left from her seperation from the Doctor, and the script does a wonderful job of showing that pain and frustration.
Oh, and there is a plotline in this story, too. Something about vampire aliens who want to conquer Earth, I think. I suppose that worked as a main plot, since it didn't detract from the main point of the episode. And actually, Anthony Head, who played the lead alien guy was rather good, I thought, all menacing and cold a he slithered along the hallways. The scene in the swimming pool room where the Doctor and the alien talk to each other about their lives was actually rather wonderful.
But what made this story special was the reunion. In the 30 years of Doctor Who, the only companion we've ever revisited was the Brigadier. Now we have another old friend to add to the list, and this episode was a wonderful way to make her acquaintence once again. Savage Dragon #125 (2006)
It completely snuck up on me, but I think I have a new favorite comic. I've gone a while without one. I suppose by default my favorite lately has been Steve Gerber's amazing Hard Time, but while that comic inspires me to think and re-examine it every issue, that's not the sort of comic to make me smile every month when I see it at the comic shop. But Savage Dragon is that sort of comic.
There's something absolutely wonderful about the way that Erik Larsen's art and storytelling have evolved. This comic started as a typical Image comic - full of mindless action and adventure. Somewhere around its third year, the comic evolved into a manic cleverness, full of energy and cleverness but still falling short of greatness. I started reading the comic regularly around the beginning of the "Savage World" arc, when the Dragon's comic briefly took on the feel of a mid-'70s Marvel comic gone mad. There were standard old school page layouts and Kirbyesque action and thought balloons, and it was tremendous fun, but somewhere along the way, the comic lost a bit of its freshness for me and I stopped buying it.
Recently, though, I've been picking up the series regularly, starting roughly with Larsen's return to the comic about six months ago. And it seems like Savage Dragon is in yet another new phase. Larsen took a sabbatical from the comic for a few months while assuming the role of publisher at Image; since his return, this has been an absolutely wonderful series.
One thing that's added charm to the comic is that Larsen's art has gotten looser. Anyone familiar with his old style will be surprised that a style like Erik Larsen's could get even looser, but Larsen's art has become even looser than it was, even more sketchy and light. It might sound like a complaint on the surface that Larsen's art has become sketchier, but exactly the opposite is true here. The looseness of Larsen's art adds an odd feel to the stories. On one hand, it makes the stories in the comic seem less serious, which has the odd effect of making a threat like Mister Bug's in this issue seem even less worrisome than it might have been. So when Mister Bug proves to be extremely dangerous, it's shocking both to the Dragon and to readers.
It seems like time constraints have loosened Larsen's writing as well. He's always been a master at the unexpected, but in this issue, his story "The Fly", basically 24 pages of an unchanging, static scene, is surprising and funny and interesting all the way through. The random craziness of Larsen's world is carried beautifully through Larsen's loose writing.
I can't tell you this is the greatest comic ever. There are rewards for catching up with the series, as I did recently, and it's fun knowing the back stories of Mister Glum, Angel and Jennifer. The comic has a loose feeling, which has the potential for edging close to laziness. But thus far the comic hasn't gotten lazy. Quite the contrary: the busier Erik Larsen gets, the better this comic gets.
I have a new favorite comic. Ladies and gentlemen, it's the Savage Dragon. |
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