Comic Book Wednesday: X-Men, X-Men, and more Mutants

Uncanny X-Men Annual 2. By Matt Fraction & Mitch Breitweiser and Daniel Acuna. Emma Frost takes center stage, as she tries to convince fellow Dark Illuminati member Namor that they should make a private deal. The word "retcon" (rewriting past continuity) generally gets a bad wrap, but in the best case scenario, it makes a contriubtion to the story at hand without detracting from the past in any manner. This is a retcon of Frost's past, to include a romantic liason with another big Marvel character during her Hellfire Club days. The story slides back and forth between that story, and the present day. Each artist illustrates a different era, although to be honest, they're similar enough that I occasionally got confused as to which period I was looking at. Overall, Fraction and the artists deliver a compelling story and a telling character piece that adds some depth to the dynamics of Dark Reign.

Astonishing X-Men 28. Warren Ellis and Simone Bianchi. I think the "previously" for this issue told me more on what's going on than actually reading the previous issues. The X-Men travel to a China base to investigate a possible war between artificial mutants and parallel world mutants. Once there, they split up and are attacked by both sides--and both sides are looking for an old friend of theirs... First the art: Bianchi's X-Men look good, but the action scenes seem disjointed--there's little flow between scenes. Storywise, Ellis seems to be going strong: the X-Men's voices are all distinctly their own, and he's quite impressively weaving the recent X-Men mythos into his own alternate world story. For example, Beast theorizes that M-Day wiped out most mutants in multiple realities, but with the birth of the mutant baby in Messiah Complex, realities full of mutants are coming back into being. (This doesn't match at all with what's been happening in the reality-hopping Exiles series, but it sounds so good, I want to believe it.)
Unfortunately, the exposition is a little clumsy. The identity of the "old friend" is choreographed fairly early, when two split parties of X-Men both start discussing him, for reasons that arise naturally, but just come off as blatant when taken together. It's not as bad as, say, the Human Torch announcing that they are safe from everything but an attack by Doctor Doom, and then the Doctor shows up on the next page, but if it's close enough that the comparison can even be made, it's too close. Ellis may have a good explanation for this in a later issue, but at the moment, it just seemed a little clumsier than I'd expect from him. But I'm overstating this--it was really a good issue, and it shows that Ellis can do good things with the X-Men and keep his own flair.
X-Men Legacy 220. By Mike Carey and Scot Eaton. Xavier convinces Gambit to follow him to Rogue, as Xavier wants to make up to her that whole "lying about being to help her in order to trick her into joining the X-Men" thing. Only thing is, someone else with a grudge against Xavier got to her first... Add a rogue Shi'ar salvage crew, and you got yourself a party---next issue. This issue is more about setting things up. And speaking of tying things in to the larger mythos, Carey continues doing his thing, this time taking elements from the recent Skrull Invasion and the events of Astonishing to tell his latest story--and for longtime fans, he even uses the old X-Men base in Australia as Rogue's hideaway.
It's extremely well-written, as per usual for this title-the only thing that really bothered me was the characters. In theory, I don't have anything wrong with Rogue, and I'd like to see her power issue get resolved, which this storyline is teasing us with. And I don't mind Gambit, in small doses. But it's been a long time since I've read either of them, and I've forgotten how annoying their respective verbal tics are. And I know her Southern drawl and his cajun meanderings are established character traits, but... mon cher dieux, they gets on the nerves.

That's it for now. Man, I can't believe I made it through reviewing three X-Men comics without mentioning Wolver--aw, shucks.

Later Days.

Comic Book Wednesday: Better Late!

No Hero 3. By Warren Ellis and Juan Jose Ryp. As has been observed, this comic came out last week. But I just got around to it now, and I have to admit, it was worth the wait. In this issue, Joshua goes through the with the "heroing" procedure, and Carrick Masterson's chickens come home to roost. Joshua's trippy drug experience ('cause it just ain't Ellis if there's not a trippy drug experience at some point) consists of a series of splash pages. They're all wonderfully drawn, of course, and chock full of disturbing, even sublime imagery, but I think one would have conveyed the idea--four was overkill, especially since that makes up nearly a third of the entire story. The story itself is excellent--for me, Masterson's musings on just who's out to get them mark the point, for me at least, when the story shifts from an interesting concept to a world I want to see more of. I want to know what happened at to the Frontline at Tianamen Square. I want to hear more about their Russian operations. And I want to see just how far Joshua's going to fall. It took me a while to get fully on board, but however many splash-pages, I'm on for the ride.

Batman: Broken City. By Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso. This is going to take some explanation, so bear with. In the second half of 2008, Brian Azzarello wrote Joker, which was an original graphic novel exploring the character of the Joker through the eyes of an ordinary thug who attaches himself to the Crown Prince of Crime because... well, he's not entirely sure himself, and therein lies the story. The story was also a bit of a gamble on Azzarello's part: he portrayed the Joker not as a wise-cracking super-villain, but as a canny gangster. The gamble paid off, for a few different reasons:
1) The movie Dark Knight had basically paved the way for a darker, more realistic portrayal of the Joker.
2) The artist for Joker, Lee Bermejo, was excellent, especially when coupled with amazing work on inks and colours performed by others.
3) Even as a gangster, the Joker was unmistakably insane. Azzarello walked a fine line between enforcing that insansity, and convincing the reader that someone would actually follow this looney into a fight--and he pulls it off well.
Azzarello's portrayal of Batman in the novel is noteworthy as well. Batman doesn't even appear until the very end of the novel, but his presence looms everywhere. He's less a man than an unstoppable force, which is exactly how I think he'd appear to the criminals of Gotham City--especially the Joker. It may not be quite as good as Moore's Killing Joke, but it's the closest anyone's ever been.
Aaaaaand then there's Broken City. It was written in 2004, some years ago, and the plot is that Batman is trying to track down a murderer, and when a young boy loses his parents in Gotham, he tends to take it personally. And like Joker, Azzarello goes for the noir approach. It's Batman, but recharacterized as a 40s pulp detective.
And it does not work. Not for me. Joker worked, I think, because it was an outsider's perspective on the Joker, and Broken City fails because it tries to give an inner perspective on Batman that is just inconsistent with any notion of Batman I'm familiar with. To his defence, Azzarello tries to justify his approach, by establishing that this Batman is nearly insane after the death of his parents--the same basic approach that Frank Miller is taking right now in the All-Star Batman and Robin series. But I think he misses his mark. This isn't Batman, with a PI flavour. This is a PI flavour and the Batman part has been jammed onto it. Aside from the thematic connections of dead parents, this case could have been done by any generic detective character.
And the dialogue is really what drives home how out of place it all feels. For example, here's the text boxes given when Bruce Wayne cooks a steak:

I liked mine pink on the inside, not red or grey. I was after the perfect sizzle.
But I'd misjudged.
It was red. Raw. My tastes didn't run that way...
...But I wasn't the only man in town with an appetite.

Can you imagine what every day life must be like for poor old Wayne?
The glass was empty. Empty like the barrels of the revolver that shot my parents.
I'm out of milk. But like the crime that festers throughout my city, it's only a store away.
I looked her up and down, and then down again, for the extra practice. She looks at me like we've known each other our whole lives, but just now realized she never knew my name. She says, "sorry, this toll only accepts exact change."

And for those who think I'm making a mountain out of a noir molehill, here's his conversation with a moll whose in a state of deshabille:
Batman: "I'm looking for Angel."
"Guess I'm not doing my job."
"You are, trust me."
"It's hard to tell."
"Sure is, but you didn't hear it from me."
"Oooh, I love secrets."
"Really? I've got one."
"I bet it's big."
Really? A Batman that flirts with mob girls? It would work for the Operative, or Mike Hammer, but the Caped Crusader? Not so much. You just know if he takes her home, Alfred's going to get sooooo uppity.
All right, time to stop before I get (more) ranty.
To sum up: Joker as gangster. Clever reinvention. Batman as pulp detective. Waste of a perfectly good iconic superhero.

Later Days.

Comic Book Wednesday: It's Not My Fault It's A Day Late...

...blame American Turkey Day.

A super-quick follow-up to last week's review of Batman 681:
Batman 682. I have absolutely no idea what's going on.


And on to the reviews proper...


Secret Invasion 8. By Brian Michael Bendis & Leinel Francis Yu. The final issue of Secret Invasion opens with the Watcher looking on as the Skrulls unleash their secret attack: a bio-weapon implanted in the Wasp. Usually, I don't have any complaints against Yu's art, but in this case, neither the art nor the dialogue really conveys what's going on. It looks like Janet van Dyne has accidently become the agent for a weapon that makes people come down with a bad case of black circles. The rest of the issue is basically a launch pad for the new status quo, which is the real problem here: the Skrulls seem more like an afterthought than the main story. It probably would have been more narratively focused (and more honest) if Marvel had just added a few more pages to SI 7, wrapped it up there, and published this issue as an epilogue or coda, which it very clearly is. It all fits together, as long as you don't think about it too closely, but for an eight month story, it's a fizzle of an ending.

Fell: Feral City. By Warren Ellis and Ben Templesmith. While I still regard Y the Last Man as far and away the best graphic novel series in my collection, Fell is probably the closest thing I have to a comic I'd described not only as literature, but as art. In fact, in a flagrant disregard for tradition and precedent, I'm going to start with my favorite part of the novel: the art. Generally, art is not a big selling point for me in a comic book series: I'm in it for the story, the dialogue, the script. For the most part, as long as the art isn't actually detrimental to the rest, I don't notice it.

I notice Fell's art. Take a look at this:

I really wish this image could do justice to Templeton's work. But to get the full experience, you really need to get your hands on the glossy paper. The exact lines and sketches are actually fairly simple--not quite minimalist, but lacking just enough detail so that you know it's an aethetic choice rather than, say, a bad artist. The brilliance is in the colouring though. Every panel is seeped in these incredible hues. Often, it seems like the characters themselves are giving off light--or failing to do so, in some cases. The end effect is an artistic marvel. Like if James Jean of the Fables covers decided to do whole books.

But enough amateur art critic. As pretty as Templeton's art is, it needs a story to ground it. In fact, I've read some of Templeton's other work, in which he illustrates more run-of-the-mill zombie stuff, and it's almost disappointing to have something so typical drawn so well. Like a waste of potential.

Thankfully, that's not the case here. Ellis is on his game, even if it's a different game than he usually plays. Each of the eight issues that make up volume one of Fell concern Rich Fell, a police detective transfered to Snowtown under inglorious, mysterious circumstances. And once in Snowtown, Fell begins to fall... presuming he started off from any height to begin with. As you'd imagine from the subtitle, Fell: Feral City is nearly as much about Snowtown as it is about Fell. Snowtown is a dark mirror image of a city: its people are controlled by superstition, hundreds of murders go unsolved each year, and everyone there seems to be going slowly--and not so slowly--insane. And that includes Fell. That's really the most fascinating part of the series--watching Fell slowly descend deeper and deeper into Snowtown, making one moral compromise after another. It's not exaggerating in the least to say that Snowtown is often a reflection of Fell's mind, growing darker and more warped along with him.
The little details are almost enjoyable as the big picture--like Fell's relationship with the bartender Mayko, and the comical insanity of Fell's fellow officers (Department secretary: "My husband left me. For the dog. That bitch. That pampered whore. With her fur and her pretty little nails. Aren't my nails pretty enough? Didn't I wear the suit for him? My throat is raw from the barking."). And the creepiness that is the Nixon Nun must be seen to be believed.
Ellis is big on promoting this series, although not always big at actually WRITING it: the issues are dirt cheap, but it's often a six month stretch between them. Issue ten will be out... some day, but for now, Feral City can be purchased for around $20 Canadian, which would be a good price even if the comics were crap. Instead, you'll be getting a fusion of art and story that fully showcases why the comic book is a worthy medium for the art of narration.
...And no, no one's paying me to sell Fell volumes.
Later Days.

Comic Book Wednesday: Now that song's going to be stuck in my head all night...

In order to change things up today, I thought I'd try to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich for supper. I burnt it horribly. Apparently, I can't handle grilled cheese. Will I eventually reach an age where it'll feel like I'm old enough for society to allow me to live on my own? Or will I enter my fifties wondering what the hell a Windsor knot is?
The good news is, you can never burn a grilled cheese sandwich so badly that ketchup can't fix it.

On to the reviews...
No Heroes 2. By Warren Ellis and Juan Jose Ryp. This came out last week, as I was kindly reminded, but better late then never. I notice that the cover proclaims this is not a comic book, but "A Serialized Graphic Novel." Clever marketing move, or pretentious quibbling? Anyway, this issue has less action than the first one, but considering Ellis' strength is clever dialogue and big ideas, the change is more or less an improvement. Basically, Carrick Masterson takes Joshua to the Frontline base, and asks him whether he really wants to be a hero or not. Some more of the Frontline history is fleshed out, and there is a pervading sense throughout the comic (sorry, serialized graphic novel) that something is going to go very bad, very soon. I'm still impressed with Ryp's style and framing; major scenes, including a bloody two-page fold, are rendered more potent just because they jump out of the boxes and squares. Now that a few more of the pieces are falling into place, I think I enjoyed this issue more than the previous. I want to see where this goes next.

Teen Titans: A Kid's Game. By Geoff Johns, Mike McKone, and Tom Grummett. For something different, today's long section is a largely forgotten selection from 2003. The Teen Titans are one of the DC properties that seem to be in a constant state of rebooting. The idea is simple enough: take all the teenage equivalents of heroes, put them on a team. Hijinx ensue. My own familiarity with the Teen Titans extends mainly to being a fan of the cartoon show, and its pseudo-anime style. To give you a taste, here's a link to the theme song. You're welcome.
So I'm not really used to the darker tone presented here. My main problem with the book is that it's not particularly accessible to outside readers. Yes, there is a character glossary in the back--although since there's no table of contents, you wouldn't find it until after you finish reading, so I'm not sure how useful it is--but the general context of the series is tiptoed around a little more than it's explained. Two previous superhero teams, Young Justice and the Titans, had just disbanded after Donna Troy, the original Wonder Girl, was killed by a renegade Superman robot. (You know, the robots Superman used to keep around to convince people that he wasn't Clark Kent. In retrospect, he really should have done a better job decommissioning them. Hindsight.) Teen Titans is an attempt by the older Titans--Beast Boy, Starfire, and Cyborg--to create a support group for the younger super heroes: Robin, the new Wonder Girl, Kid Flash, and Superboy. This volume has the heroes band together to fight Deathstroke, who is possessed by his son, Jericho. Again, there's an accessibility issue. While new readers won't left entirely in the dark, to understand the history these characters have with the Titans, you've got to be an old school fan.
Still, aside from the continuity issue, Johns' writing is good, and is characterization is great. Most of the focus is on the younger titans, but everyone gets a moment in the spotlight. It's worth reading for the spot-on Robin alone. If you've got a soft-spot for teenage superheroes, or you're familiar with the Titan's history, or you're just a skeevy perv who likes Starfire's costume (or lack thereof:)
Give the volume a try.

Or just listen to the theme song again.

When there's evil on the attack
You can rest knowing they got your back
'Cuz when the world needs heroes on patrooooooooool, Teen Titans GO!

Later Days.

Comic Book Wednesday: Y Not?

Short Review
No Hero #1. by Warren Ellis and Juan Jose Ryp. Plot: Joshua Carver becomes a vigilante. In a sense, this isn't anything new; Ellis has been doing the super-powered nonsuperhero for quite some time. The difference here is the clarity towards what's at stake. From the title, to the pseudo-new clipping beginning, to the first scene of gratuitious (and at the same time, not gratutitious at all) violence, Ellis sets up this series as an examination of the contradiction inherent in comic books: that 'hero' and 'vigiliante' aren't really words that go together. Ryp's work is impressive in its outline; the comic begins with short, orderly squares that lengthen and grow as Carver prepares to do battle. The frames then begin to break down until Carter makes his first kill; very nice effect.
A good first issue; we'll see where things go.

Feature

Y the Last Man, written by Brian K. Vaughan and illustrated (mostly) by Pia Guerra, was a 60 issue series that ran from September 2002 to January 2008. The plot, in a nutshell: a plague kills every male on earth except for Yorick Brown, an escape artist with an English degree, and his monkey Ampersand. The entire series is about how Yorick Brown and the rest of the world cope with the loss of the men. It's a post-apocalyptic bildungromans, with a generous dollop of gender study. It's a serious examination of what the world would be like without the y-chromosoned, and how people cope after the end of everything. Through the course of the series, Yorick goes from reclusive shut-in to, well, someone worthy of the title last man, with all the masculine, testosterone-ridden baggage that entails. It's beautifully written, nearly always beautifully drawn, and it's possibly the best ending I've ever read in graphic form--hell, in any form. I have to admit my own judgement is biased; part of the appeal of the series for me is that when I started reading, I was basically the same age Yorick was when he started out, and we both grew at the same rate. If the novel is a journey that the characters, reader, and writer all go on together, then this was... a really... good... journey. Ok, the metaphor got away on me. But read the book. Read it for Yorick's quest to find the missing Beth. Read it for the mystery of 355. Read it for the monkey.

Or read it to see Yorick's johnson. (It took me an hour to get that picture working. And it's still terrible.)
One last thing: There are far, far better reasons to like Y: the Last Man beyond "Yorick and I are both over-educated, underachieving white guys". Y Fans, I'm calling on you to come on down and supply them.


Later Days.