Posted by Adam on October 20, 2008
(Arcana Studios)
The idea of a “superhero universe” crept into comics gradually, but once it took root (thanks, as is generally the case with superhero comics, to Stan & Jack) it became the source of endless debates among comics fans. There was the obvious “Could Thor beat up the Hulk” stuff, of course, but eventually there were more practical questions, too—who, for instance, cleaned up after those city-block-leveling melees? Where did superheroes go when they retired? What would the legal system look like in a world where “my evil parallel-dimension duplicate did it” was a legitimate defense? Now, as a comics writer, you could just say “stop taking this stuff so seriously”, but since these are superhero comics nerds we’re talking about, that’s not really an option. Besides, exploring these ideas is, when you think about it a little, a great source for story ideas, and so it’s not surprising to have seen all the rhetorical questions above be answered in comics form over the years. (The first two form the premises for Damage Control and Welcome to Tranquility, respectively, and the third has been explored in Astro City and She-Hulk, and possibly elsewhere.) WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Graig on October 17, 2008
(IDW)
Pulled from Dr. Who Magazine circa 1986 and ‘87, this reprint collection features two stories from Grant Morrison’s pre-Animal Man days as a little-known struggling writer in the UK. True to form, however, Morrison pulls off a pair of stories, which in the Who-pantheon at least, stray from the norm. Not being a huge Who fan myself (I’ve quite enjoyed the long-lived series over the years, but only sporadically), it’s only through a little research that I find out the Tardis-exploring “Changes”, wherein the Doctor, Peri, and Frobisher chase a dangerous changeling through the folded-space interiors of the time-jumping ship. Apparently, “they go further into the [Tardis] than has ever been visually depicted before or since, in any medium”, which, if you’re a who fan, must be something a bit mind blowing. At sixteen pages, “Changes” is slight, a Dr. Who vignette if you will but some decent art from John Ridgeway gives it an eventful feel that similar era Who’s production budget couldn’t handle. The follow-up story, “Culture Shock” (with art by a young Brian Hitch) finds the Doctor encountering a microscopic society on the brink of eradication at the hands of a virus. At eight pages, it whips by, but again, it’s typical Morrison, thinking outside the confines of what’s common for the show and using the medium to its fullest to bash out a sharp little story. Though neither reach the Morrison craziness that he’s become so revered for, it’s still an good display of how the man worked outside the box, even then. Great for Morrison completists and avid Doctor Who fans.
3 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on October 3, 2008
(Boom! Studios)
An exposition-heavy first-issue left me cold, like a wounded submarine carrying nuclear warheads, set to detonate 72 hours after any sign of trouble, trapped in the deepest known part of the ocean, atop a frozen block of methane which, should it ignite, would decimate the earth… the very premise of this suspense-adventure. Though the thickly-layered levels of melodrama threaten to stretch the reader’s suspension of disbelief beyond the breaking point, in this second issue the adventure takes over, as the grizzled oceanographer now has his motivation for rescuing the limp submarine beneath the sea bottom, and quickly prepares his crew and armed forces escort for the life-threatening dive ahead of them. Inside the sub, the captain has already gone nuts, the crew has mutinied, and they are now trying not to panic about their situation. Their ship is immobile, the pressure outside is terminal, and the warheads are set to go off within the day, with expectation of rescue is next to nil, their options are pretty bleak. Writers Andrew Cosby and Andy Schmidt dole out a dose of high stakes thrills amidst a cast of conventional Hollywood-style characters and a borderline ridiculous plot, but it’s actually fairly entertaining. The diving scenes take advantage of artist Chee’s thick, ink-washed style. He effectively conveys the bleakness of the ocean depths and creates an ominous atmosphere aboard the sub. It all comes togther as enjoyable high-concept frivolity.
3 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on October 2, 2008
SLG Publishing
I picked up the first volume of Ethan Nicolle’s Chumble Spuzz earlier this year mainly as review fodder. I’ve done that a lot over the years with Rack Raids, picked up a title not for my own enjoyment but for review purposes, and by and large it results in a stack of comics and trade paperbacks that may be good, but I don’t enjoy, or that I enjoy but aren’t any good… or both… or neither. It’s easy to stick with DC and Marvel, comics companies that I’ve invested time and years in, but I’m getting to the point where they’re comfortable fluff (for the most part), and sometimes I want substance, or something different.
Chumble Spuzz volume 1, subtitled “Kill The Devil” is certainly not “substance” but it’s definitely different. The biggest draw for me was Nicolle’s art, which is a masterstroke of cartooning wonder. Every panel is eye-catching, beautifully rendered with a decidedly clean, yet richly and precisely detailed, inking style. Flipping through the book before purchasing sold me on it, even though the description about a pig possessed by Satan didn’t exactly captivate me.
The book stars Gunther and Klem, two simplistically illustrated, made-for-cartoons looking characters of indeterminate species (I’d have to say that Gunther is perhaps a mouse while Klem is possibly a rabbit), with the typical buddy duo (ala Ren and Stimpy or Pinky and the Brain) of the schemer (Gunther) and the simpleton (Klem). In “Kill The Devil” the duo infiltrate a carnival — by way of an “Indian Rug Burn” box — where they proceed to become involved in a pig catching competition that wins them, yes, a demonically possessed pig. They consult with their friend, the gangsta-talking monkey Reverend Mofo, who advises them to take on the devil, naturally.
The main story is amusing in concept and much of the execution is pretty humorous, but a lot of the comedy also fell flat, like Nicolle was trying too hard to push the edge. Again, it’s in Nicolle’s art that I found the most laughs, as his facial expressions on humans, demons and anthropomorphic animals alike are expertly controlled. He also has a knack for dropping easter eggs in the background, and it’s these little things that I found more rewarding. It’s in the second, shorter story that Nicolle reigns his script and delivers a potent dosage of the funny. Titled “Salmonella”, it treads on beloved institutions like the Keebler Elves, Cookie Monster (emphasis on the “monster”), Colonel Sanders and, naturally, Jesus, as vampire chickens break loose at a blood drive. It’s a tight, hilariously absurd romp that plays fast and loose with pop culture while contributing something of its own to it.
Chumble Spuzz Vol. 2
It was this second tale in which Nicolle’s art and words really came together, and for me warranted keeping an eye out for future work. Enter volume 2, “Pigeon Man & Death Sings The Blues”, which picks up on the structure of the first book, with an extended-length story backed up with a shorter one. This time around Nicolle brings in his brother Isaiah Nicolle to aide with the scripting duties and together they produce an uproarious feature story in “Pigeon Man”.
Nicolle explains in the introduction a fascination he has with feral people — dedicating the volume to wolf girls of Singapore — in particular a spoof ‘pigeon man’ which he came up with for a Far Side-aping comic strip he did in high school (one included in the volume, and quite good, mind you).
The story finds Gunther obsessing over the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich, lusting after the PBJ-Bot that’s out of his financial reach, while Klem feeds the pigeons in the back yard. There, the titular Pigeon Man shows up and Klem, having conveniently witnessed a program about feral people, calls a feral human zookeeper and sells the old naked guy for a princely sum (allowing him to acquire his own PBJ-Bot). Klem feels bad about his short-lived pet, and goes to visit him at the zoo. There they discover the zookeeper is using the feral men of the zoo in an illegal pit fight (which leads to some hilarious feral men with names like “manda bear”, “man-cock” and “homo-snakien”.
The sheer variety of feral men, illustrated in Nicolle’s impeccably funny-yet-disturbing style, is the big draw here, but with his brother the pair have a tighter, funnier script which keeps the laughs and even a few knee-jerk “icks” coming (the “mangaroos” have to be seen to be believed).
The second story is a surprisingly multi-layered tale that runs through alternating stories about a blind blues man, Gunther and his feeble uncle, and Klem and his dead sea monkey, all which eventually collide in a mind blowing, epic fashion. Condensed to 27 pages, this rich story moves at an incredible clip and is all the more impressive for it. Unlike previous tales, where Nicolle’s art takes the spotlight, here the script is actually the essential ingredient, fully engrossing and funny.
There’s no doubt that with the copious amounts of poop jokes and naked old men running about this book that the Nicolle Brothers aren’t reaching for a high-brow audience, but anyone who has the stomach for a good belly laugh and an eye for incredibly well designed and rendered art will find a lot to appreciate.
Volume 1 - 3 out of 5 Vikings
Volume 2 - 4 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on September 26, 2008
(Vertigo)
My interest in the latest issue of Fables was more for scientific reasons than personal curiosity or entertainment purposes. I read and enjoyed the first 40-ish issues via trade paperback off my girlfriend’s (now wife’s) shelf but kind of fell behind on reading her monthly issues and have never caught up. I’ve been interested in the idea of accessibility in comics lately, and knowing that issue #75 was intended to be the big (extra-sized) wrap-up to the grand series masterplan, I suspected issue #76 would be the logical place for a new or returning reader to jump back on. Turns out, not so much. To me, this issue reads as an epilogue, as the Adversary comes to the world of Mundys and doesn’t at all like what he see. Essentially he’s a curmudgeonly old man, looking at the world through the eyes of someone unable to accept change. What this unspeakably evil dictator will become is either the grouchy guy sitting on the front steps saying “What’s so good about it” when someone says “Good day” or he’ll be plotting the Fables’ downfall. Really it could go either way, and writer Bill Willingham isn’t giving much of an indication which way it’s going. In fact this issue seems to come to a close rather abruptly, not leaving much in the way of tantalization for the following issue. As a re-establishing point for returning readers, it’s not bad, with a fair share of both humorous and dramatic moments, as well as giving a sense of Fabletown, and naturally the briefest of recapping recent happenings in the whole Fables v. Adversary conflict. But for new readers it’ll be impossibly impenetrable and certainly not a place I’d recommend starting (maybe next issue?). On the plus side, some gorgeous Mike Allred/Laura Allred fill-in art.
3 out of 5 Vikings (+1 for ongoing readers, -1 for new readers)
Posted by Graig on September 19, 2008
(DC)
I really enjoyed the first Uncle Sam and the Freedom Fighters mini-series, and was pleasantly surprised to find others did too, enough for DC to greenlight a second mini which is now collected in trade. As much as I dug the first series, however, I don’t actually recall much about it. Afterall, it was a year and a half and more than a few hundred comics ago that I read it.
But it’s no biggie, the trade sets itself up in a manner that you needn’t have studied the previous series to enjoy this one, its opening pages giving a breakdown of the team’s roster and some quick character tidbits. The book starts in space, aboard an alien ship approaching Earth’s atmosphere. Inside the Freedom Fighters combat a horde of oversized aliens, trying to stomp their way to the Red Bee, trapped in a cocoon. For her part, the Red Bee is trying to maintain a sense of calm, trying to understand her predicament. She’s an entomologist afterall, she should be in here element here if anywhere. True to form she saves the day, or so it seems. Upon returning to Earth, to the United States, Uncle Sam and company return to the land of politics, of backbiting, of buzzwords and public images. It’s not much of a place for heroes, because these days, “hero” is a relative term, and subject to the same propaganda mill and attack ads as any politician to curry the public’s favor.
There they have to deal with not a new enemy, per se, but the new challenges of being politically appointed superheroes in the wake of the Amazons’ attack on Washington D.C., and Infinite Crisis, and their prior dealings with corruption. The task they’re asked to undertake causes a divisive rift amongst the team and the team splits into two, one following orders, the others laying low. Each issue moves the story somewhere different, with a different team member taking on primary narrative duties. For an 8-issue series a tremendous amount happens, and it’s dense structure can feel like it’s laying on too much too quickly, but it’s dalliances into the wilds of superhero physics and and comic book science that make it quite a lot of fun.
Writers Justin Gray and Jimmy Palmiotti have an interesting team of lesser-caliber superheroes, and although each character isn’t given equal time (Black Condor disappears into the background a lot, and even Uncle Sam isn’t tremendously prominent) the spotlights are interesting. While dovetailing away from political intrigue into more stock capes-n-tights fare after the third chapter, it’s the imaginative nature of the stories revolving around Doll Man, Red Bee, and Neon that make it interesting. There’s a lot of character drama that erupts out of the predicaments that Gray and Palmiotti put them in, key of which is Phantom Lady’s bad-girl public image lampooning the Lohan/Spears/Hilton girls-gone-wild stigma, but it manages to veer away from easy comedy and actually has something to say about it.
The theme of legacy, so prominent in the DC Universe, also makes itself known, with a couple of the current Freedom Fighters having been members of the original, and a couple more descended from them. In fact, the Ray is attempting to mend a bridge with his father, likewise sharing a bond with him by being a member of the team. The book also smartly takes a barometric reading of the current climate for superheroes in the DC Universe, and its resolution seems to reflect that.
The art by Renato Arlem is up to the task of illustrating a city of Doll Men, invading alien hordes, and the acid trip Happy Terrill goes on after drinking Neon: The Unknown’s magical oasis. Arlem delivers richly detailed scenes but with a loose ink brush that gives an unpolished appeal to his otherwise precise lines (let’s say Chaykin-esque). He seems to enjoy embedding photographs into his background and on occasion his people look stiffly like they’re traced from a photograph (sometimes faces, sometimes poses, sometimes both), and he does have a propensity to replicate imagery so that characters hold the same pose on multiple panels. I find his illustrations generally appealing, but there’s also occasionally things not right about them, like they were disparate elements layered together in Photoshop as opposed to being illustrated by hand on the page. It’s a bit of shorthand in illustrating that can prove distracting, but sequential collage may be the next great form of the medium (who knows?).
Despite whatever faults it may have, I still effortlessly digested this trade in one sitting. By mixing the absurd with the astute and big budget action with the soap operatic, while also providing some interesting commentary on society both real and fictional, it didn’t stretch too hard to be more than what it was: a concentrated shot of engaging entertainment.
3 and a half out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on September 18, 2008
(DC)
The previous four issues kind of went over my head. I’ll admit I read them half-assed and wasn’t paying full attention to what went on, but given that this series kicked off as a tie-in to Secret Invasion, an Event Comic I’m not partaking in and the sequel to a mini-series I didn’t read (Wisdom, I was almost predisposed to apathy. This latest issue no longer feels like a tie-in and is starting to gain it’s own foothold. The Skrulls are gone, but legions of bad magic-y things have escaped through a portal. Stopping them is now the MI 13’s mission. A teammate died while Captain Britain was resurrected (once again), his powers now in flux. The Black Knight has escorted Dr. Faiza Hussain to her parents’ house to help explain their daughter’s interest in becoming a superhero, but what seals the deal for them is her recent acquisition of Excalibur (”Faiza, do you know what this is? This is unconditional acceptance.” If only.) Spitfire and Union Jack beat on some cultists, while Blade joins the team which, by the end of the issue, causes a pretty serious conflict, I’d say. Paul Cornell seems like a smart writer, his idea for the team is interesting (a public face, a secret enemy, and high-level intelligence backing it) if not as ingenious as he (or his characters) seem to think it is. His dialogue is at times witty, at times perfunctory, but also at times it seems lacking in flow, even a little discombobulating. I like his grim Blade, his awkward Black Knight, and his hesitant Faiza, but he’s yet to really establish Pete Wisdom or Captain Britain in the series, likely relying upon the fact that Brian Braddock has been well explored in the past and he wrote Wisdom in the lead-in series. Pat Olliffe (52) provides some decent fill-in art, not straying too far from the sensibilities of series artist Leonard Kirk. Enjoyable, if not exceptional.
3 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Adam on August 31, 2008
(BOOM! Studios)
Ever since mankind has been telling stories, we’ve relied on the trope of mystical guidance to move the plot along. From oracles to prophecies to psychics, the idea of characters being guided by supernatural exposition is almost indispensable to genre stories; in fact, it’s more or less the point at which storytelling overlaps with religion. You could even argue that it’s a crucial part of why we tell stories in the first place: to show how human lives are linked to the divine, and to reinforce the idea that there’s some grander plan out there.
All very powerful stuff, but there are a lot of potential downsides to using mystical guidance in a story, too. When exposition is delivered by a mere human, it’s to be expected that there will be gaps in their understanding, hence their inability to give the protagonists (and the audience) everything they want to know. But when you’ve got an all-knowing entity predicting the future or revealing hidden truths, the temptation becomes too great to ask, “Why not just be straight with us?” Why reveal the truth in riddles, or remain vague on crucial details? The answer, of course, is that it’s usually necessary for the plot–but that just makes the supernatural entities in question seem kinda dickish. And since the author of any given story is effectively God, he or she has to be held accountable for this kind of behaviour as well.
The Foundation, written by John Rozum with art by “Chee” (seriously, that’s how he or she is billed) and colors by Pablo Quiligotti, actually attempts to grapple, to some extent, with these issues. It’s not always completely successful, but it’s nice to see someone making the effort, at least. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Jeb on August 27, 2008
(Marvel)
As torch-passings go, this one’s been pretty quiet. I think many of us imagined Garth Ennis wrapping up his run on The Punisher with an apocalyptic finale, to be followed by an issue or two from one of Marvel’s big-gun crime writers (Bendis and Brubaker, for example, are among the best in the biz) to provide some buzz and sales boost, and offset the disappointment of Ennis’ departure. Instead, before we here at Rack Raids even got our heads around #60, the sendoff to both Ennis and artist Goran Parlov, here comes #61, featuring the first of their successor teams, veteran crime novelist Gregg Hurwitz and artist Laurence Campbell.
Of course, it’s been obvious for the past few months that Ennis had something different in mind for the end of his run than the explosive bloodbath many of us were expecting. The key to this last storyline, “Valley Forge, Valley Forge,” was the conspirators’ belief that the one enemy Frank Castle could never bring himself to kill was soldiers of the United States Army, and while the past few issues haven’t lacked for action, it’s mostly been a matter of Frank cleverly managing to incapacitate the GI’s sent after him, short of killing. And, sure enough, in #59, we saw how that cost him his freedom, leaving him helpless in the power of his enemies… or almost. Because the corrupt generals who determined to save their skins by bringing Frank down entrusted the job to a man of conscience, and with Colonel Howe now in control of Frank’s fate, Ennis’ Punisher story comes full circle, linking this storyline with the Born miniseries, as well as stirring echoes from many of the past 59 issues.
If this final story arc has a weakness, it’s the lack of integration of the text piece that flows through it: as a précis of the mistakes of Vietnam, it’s rather bland compared with the deeply personal vision of The Punisher himself. With Ennis having shown us Frank’s birth in Vietnam, he couldn’t bring the story to a close with anything short of the bitterness and helpless fury that the war still clearly evokes in Ennis himself. As a conclusion, it leaves us in no doubt that the cathartic violence of a Frank Castle is a puny weapon compared with the evil within the human soul, or the sense of honor and duty that can, all too rarely, transcend it.
The first thing to note about issue #61 is that Hurwitz and Campbell are really in a no-win situation: hewing closely to Ennis’ approach, or diverging from it, are equally likely to bring criticism from this book’s faithful (based on the sales figures, almost maniacally so) readership. I think that Ennis pretty much decided that for them, though: “Valley Forge, Valley Forge” was so thoroughly tied in to Ennis’ vision of Vietnam, and the questions of moral responsibility that remain unanswered in its wake, that any other writer was going to have to regard that as a closed chapter and move on.
So, in issue #61, we’re almost meeting The Punisher for the first time all over again. I have no idea if Hurwitz or his successors have any plans to use any of the characters from Ennis’ run, but I would think it unlikely. What this issue gives us is not a continuation of the broad sweep and social indictment that fueled Ennis, but the beginning of a down-and-dirty crime tale that bleeds elements of the classic Western.
Part of that is due to the setting: a Mexican border town, ravaged by the kidnapping of its young women, none of whom ever return… alive. But in larger part it’s the role that’s been given Frank here: the man of his hands who can’t get involved with the problems of those weaker than he– see Destry Rides Again, Shane, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (or Mark Millar and Steve McNiven’s “Old Man Logan,” running currently in Wolverine). When the townspeople make contact with Frank, he turns them down because he’s not a hitman or bodyguard. And, at that point, we can plot the rest of the issue ourselves: the disappointed townsfolk cower in fear, one old man is bold enough to stand up to the predators, he is cut down mercilessly… and just as all hope is lost, there looms The Punisher, ready to take on evil in the name of the powerless.
That the book resists easy dismissal based on its time-worn plot is due largely to Campbell’s art (he did last year’s Punisher MAX Annual). He gives Frank’s interior dialogue shadings dark enough to mask some of the purple in Hurwitz’ prose, and his depiction of the old man who goes to his death to fight for what’s right is as shattering as it is predictable.
And we can’t pass over what might be the most jarring transition from the old team: Tim Bradstreet is no longer doing the iconic covers. Any replacement was going to be a difficult transition, but I have to say that Dave Johnson’s cover art here seems more suited to the Punisher War Journal book than Punisher MAX.
You’d be hard pressed to ask for a more complete break with Ennis’ version of The Punisher than the one Hurwitz gives us here: hard-boiled genre variations don’t seem to be the sort of thing that holds Ennis’ attention.. On the other hand, Hurwitz is very proficient with the conventions of the genre, and knows Frank well enough that The Punisher doesn’t seem out of place here. Last year, Hurwitz turned out a tough, tense, blood-soaked MAX revival of Marvel’s Foolkiller, and readers of his novels know he’s got the chops. I’m guessing that future issues of this run won’t be as easy to predict as this first one was.
Punisher #60:
Punisher #61:
Posted by Sean on August 26, 2008
(Radical Comics)
Freedom Formula is another solid offering from Radical Comics, a new publisher that has already earned my utmost respect due to their enthusiasm for diverse genre material. Freedom Formula is their first entry into science fiction, and while not wholly original (the story takes place in a dystopian future where corporations hold the real power, and the divide between the haves and the have nots puts the Grand Canyon to shame), the book will undoubtedly appeal to fans of giant mechs going toe-to-toe against each other. Big robots speeding around even bigger cities in illegal street races. It either appeals to you or it doesn’t. But Radical undeniably accomplishes what they set out to do with this book, in creating a sharp looking, exciting and kinetic futuristic action piece that screams “summer blockbuster” (apparently director Bryan Singer agrees).
3 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Devon on August 19, 2008
(DC)
If someone would have told me in early 2002, that DC Comics would be launching a comic centered around the Gotham City Police, I would have jumped up and clapped.
In 2003, DC gave us Gotham Central and I jumped up and clapped. This was the comic I’d been waiting for. A comic that focused on not hard it is to be a cop but how hard it is to be a cop in a city where Killer Croc is seen as a minor player in the Gotham scheme of things. Gotham Central was special in that it showed how hard it is to prosecute a crime when the villain is dropped off on your doorstep by a man in a cape. How do one fill out the paperwork on that?
How does a criminal be Mirandized by an urban legend? Answer: he doesn’t. Gotham Central was unique in the fact that it was a Gotham City crime book minus its greatest crimefighter, the then retired, Commissioner Gordon. How did it work around that? With a supporting cast of characters that included Gordon’s former second, Renee Montoya and a new transplant from Superman’s Metropolis, Crispus Allen.
These two were eventually partnered and then things… got weird.
Allen was later killed in the line of duty, setting of a chain of events that would lead partner Montoya on a path that would eventually lead to her becoming, of all things, The Question, in the pages of the 2006’s mega-series, 52.
Former detective and family man Crispus Allen was resurrected in the pages of Infinite Crisis as the latest and most remorseless iteration of God’s wrath, The Spectre.
For years now, Allen and Montoya have walked the earth in their refashioned roles as protectors of the innocents: the Spectre knowing of his former partner’s new lot in life; The Question believing her former best friend dead.
For years their paths had no reason to cross, that is until Final Crisis: Revelations #1, written by Gotham Central co-creator and writer Greg Rucka, on sale now.
The underworld, lead by Libra, congratulates itself following the death of Justice League mainstay, The Martian Manhunter. Vengeance must be served, enter The Spectre, only this time evil overcomes wrath. The Spectre is transported away to seek vengeance elsewhere.
Elsewhere fights Renee Montoya, The Question, resulting a reunion no one would have called in early 2003.
Rucka’s story weaves threads from DC’s mega-events, Identity Crisis, Infinite Crisis, 52 and last year’s 52: The Crime Bible and the results are understandably a bit jumbled. There’s a lot of story to tell and the story’s all over the place, even by DC Universe standards. The scripting along with the final page, however, is as solid as anything Rucka’s ever done, earning this title a trip to my pull file over the coming months. Under Rucka, loyalty is rewarded from the first page to the last.
Artist Philip Tan art is moody and atmospheric and specifically suited for the story Rucka set forth. Oddly enough, Tan shines brightest in the superhero-esque Spectre/Libra sequence, displaying a knowing command of the “fight scene.” Those years on Spawn did him well.
Final Crisis: Revelations #1, may be no reason to jump up and clap, but it is an interesting little read for the Gotham Central faithful.
3 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Adam on August 10, 2008
(Red 5 Comics)
Atomic Robo is another example of what I (and Warren Ellis) call “pure comics”–it’s almost nothing but action, wisecracks, and weird mad science and fantasy crap, and it’s glorious. The titular character is a robot built by Nikola Tesla in the early 20th century and adopted, more or less, by the US Government to fight at the head of a team of anti-mad-science crusaders. Describing it that way, of course, immediately evokes the most successful modern interpretation of this formula. Yes, Atomic Robo is very much in the vein of Hellboy, right down to the frequent appearance of Nazi villains. And therein lies the problem.
See, volume one had enough of its own distinct charms, including Scott Wegener’s sharp, cartoony artwork and Ronda Pattison’s bright colours. The biggest appeal, however, was the humor, in the form of Robo’s hilarious quips–he knows that he can’t be hurt easily, and thus can keep his wiseassed commentary up through the most desperate of situations. Writer Brian Clevinger also has a knack for zany comic-book situations, like an ancient Egyptian pyramid coming to life via clockwork, or Robo’s bitter rivalry with Stephen Hawking. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Devon on August 9, 2008
(Marvel)
What the hell?
Seriously… what the hell was that?
Did you read Hulk #5 written by Jeph Loeb? So did I. It was probably two of the most dumbfounding minutes I’ve ever spent doing anything. And… why did I even slightly enjoy it as much as I did?
Fresh from being well-plotted and well-written in the pages of his own comic, Thor, God of Thunder, stands on San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge. On the other side, fresh from punching The Watcher in the jaw for talking too much, a red behemoth currently going by the name of The Hulk.
WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Max on July 17, 2008
(Image)
Hello folks! Because I’m a lazy bastard and missed my Monday deadline, I’m going to try and do a review a day Thursday, Friday, Saturday AND Sunday to make it up to you. A Herculean task no doubt, but never let it be said I didn’t give it the old college try, which should not to be confused with the new college try aka giving up and drinking a lot (Note: My preferred method). Now, on with the reviews!
First up we’ve got Firebreather from Image comics, an ongoing series continuing the adventures of Duncan Rosenblatt, the titular hero. The son of a regular woman and what appears to be a 300-ft dragon (no, that’s never explained, so I’m gonna guess very flexible), Duncan engages in the usual teenage activities; buying ice-cream, fighting his father’s combat training dummies, and then getting the crap beaten out of him by said father (who, for those not paying attention, is a big-ass dragon). While I may have some questions about the, um, mechanics of a dragon/human union, as a premise it works fine. Duncan is essentially a human kid with dragon features (including wings), and overall the story has a very Blue Beetle vibe to it. Everyone in town is familiar with Duncan and his abilities, and the whole tale, though fantastic, seems grounded in reality, including the shared custody between Duncan’s divorced parents. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Max on June 30, 2008
(Antarctic Press)
(Sorry folks, another short review this week. For Pete’s sake, we put a man on the damn moon, you’d think we’d have this cold bullshit sorted out by now. Seriously, if it wasn’t green I’d swear I was hacking up pieces of lung.)
Today’s comic is brought to us by Antartic Press, publishers of the (apparently) long-running Gold Digger and Ninja High-School series. Their store also features a book called How to Draw Pirates, which seems a little niche, but hey, what do I know. Fire and Brimstone is their latest effort, and it’s the love-child of one Richard Moore, who handles both the writing and the art. Moore is famous for such titles as Boneyard, The Pound and Deja Vu, and by “famous” I mean he mentions them in his intro. Nice plug there Richard, very subtle. I mean, that would be like if I told you all that I also write video-game reviews over at VG Views (www.vgviews.com), the video-game site where you’re the reviewer! No one needs to hear about my well thought out and articulate opinions on the latest electronic entertainment, which can be read at VG Views (www.vgviews.com), and it would be inappropriate of me to pimp another site like VG Views (www.vgviews.com), especially on a site dedicated to comics, and not video-games, which is what VG Views (www.vgviews.com) happens to specialize in. No, I’m more professional than that, and I’d appreciate it if Moore was as well. Oh, and he starts off his introductory spiel with the following:
“I know what you’re thinking: ‘Who is this guy, and why should I care?’ Despite the fact that it’s extremely rude of you to ask, I’ll answer your challenging query.” WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Sean on June 12, 2008
(Image)
The gangster All-Stars! Legendary crime figures Pretty Boy Floyd, Baby Face Nelson and Machine Gun Kelly team up to take down Al Capone after being led to believe that the King of Chicago is behind their recent misfortunes. Will there be enough bullets in the Midwest to see this one through to the end? I’m a sucker for historical fiction. So, it was the premise (despite being a little over-the-top for the genre) that originally attracted me to this book. But it’s the artwork that’s going to bring me back. That’s not necessarily a slight on writer Clark Westerman, although, to be honest, the narrative is a bit dense in spots and some of the transitions between the storylines are abrupt; I was just very impressed with Kody Chamberlain noirish black and white visuals – which convey an appropriate cinematic element. This was the first time I’ve seen his artwork, and I’m a fan. I’d like to see this guy work on some darker material in the future. More The Untouchables than American Tabloid, Pretty Baby Machine has the makings of an entertaining gangster romp.
3 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Adam on June 9, 2008
(DC)
Ahhhh — at last.
Alan Moore’s post-Watchmen career arc has been fascinating to me. Despite his punk-rock attitude, he was famously dismayed by what happened to the superhero genre in the wake of his masterpiece; rather than providing one take among many, the “Watchmen” mentality of deconstructionist, “real world” superheroes existing in a dark, dreary, morally ambivalent world in which all the zany fun had been drained out quickly became the default position for the genre. Moore responded first by ducking out for a decade or so, working on “From Hell” and some other projects that didn’t get off the ground. Then, when Image comics came along, he took advantage of their anarchic mentality to return to superheroes on his own terms. First he toiled forgettably (for him) on stuff like Spawn and WildC.A.T.s, but then, starting with “1963”, he launched a series of retro, silver age-style comics that represented an attempt to reconnect comics with their vast and interesting history. The culmination of this came in theABC line, embodied by two comics: “Tom Strong” and “Promethea”.
Tom Strong was essentially “Doc Savage with richer subtext”. An instantly iconic adventure strip character, Tom was a superscientific strongman born at midnight, January 1st, 1900, and raised to be the ideal human by his rather cold-hearted father. After his parents’ death he was raised by a lost tribe on a remote jungle island, then picked up the mantle of scientist-adventurer and proceeded to have a century of adventures (thanks to a life-extending medicinal plant) with his family and companions. His adventures were an encapsulation of comics history over the course of the 20th century, involving everything from Nazis to space travel to lava people to parallel realities. What was really great, though, was the way Moore wove strong characterization into the background. Strong’s credo is one of optimism, rationality and a determination to solve problems; his greatest strength and his greatest weakness is that his upbringing left him emotionally detached and sometimes coldly logical; his family and friends, especially his wife Dhalua, have redeemed his humanity, but his thought processes can still be slightly strange, at least in the more serious stories. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Graig on June 6, 2008
(DC)
With the “R.I.P.” storyline in full-swing over in Batman and the spillover looming elsewhere in the bat-verse, I thought I’d take a look at a few of those titles before the proverbial feces are tossed into the rotating blades. Over in Detective Comics, there’s a lovely watercolor cover by Dustin Nguyen proclaiming “she’s back” with the silhouette of a slinky female figure in the background while a furry grey feline occupies middle space. “She who?” I wonder. Just kidding, I’m not that dense. If you hadn’t been following along, the fair Ms. Kyle was shipped off to some other-planetary Australia, a sort of super-villain prison, from which she just returned. Mr. Wayne, since Ms. Kyle’s departure has been making time with one Ms. Zatara and another Ms. Jet, which gives her a few cross words for our resident cowled crusader. Of course, this lovers reunion happens on all of three pages, really not something that’s worthy of grand “She’s Back” cover copy. The rest of the book is a stand alone Murder She Wrote-esque caper where ol’ Bats spends some time on-line in a chatroom with Detective Chimp (for reals) trying to figure solve a string of murders, and shows up at the grand finale to drop some Jessica Fletcher hyper-exposition, closing the case. Altogether a cute if forgettable done-in-one giving Paul Dini some breathing room before his “R.I.P” tie-in “Hush Returns” next issue.
Meanwhile, it’s the penultimate chapter of the current storyline in Nightwing. Series writer Peter J. Tomasi has revived the sagging title (and character) over the past five or so issues by establishing Richard (”Dick” to his friends, and all his lady fans, am I right?) Grayson as a settled New Yorker, complete with a job and home base and a skydiving hobby and a girlfriend with cornrows (for reals) shoehorned into his life. Also, Tomasi has firmly established Mr. Grayson as a player in both the Bat-verse (nicely establishing a brotherly relationship with Tim Drake) and in the DCU. Currently, Dick is at odds with Talia Al Ghul, who has set up some dastardly plan which involves a kidnapped member of China’s Great Ten superteam, a woman whose powers allow her to thunk out children faster than a Bill Hicks-referenced redneck mom (for reals). Her superpowered children, however, happen to age 10 years for every day, so Talia has hired one Doctor Kendall to slow the aging process and breed her an army. Of course, Kendall has his own duplicitous plans and, naturally, it’s Nightwing’s pleasure to mess everything up for the both of them. Tomasi’s story is irregularly paced, but genuinely entertaining. With Rags Morales and Michael Bair on art, the book looks as fab as it reads. It’s not going to set sales charts on fire, but it’s some fine comic bookery.
It’s be said before but, Spoiler Alert (narf!). That’s right, she’s back, as seen (and explained away) in Robin #174, the thought-dead (but-was-really-staged) Stephanie Brown returns to Gotham at the hands of the man who loves her most (that sounds dirty old mannish) Chuck Dixon. Steph, it’s explained, was convinced by Leslie Thompkins to leave the costumed life behind and join her in helping distribute medicine in Africa. This special presents a flashback to her time in Africa (and the turning point which caused her to return home) as well as a story reestablishing her place in Tim Wayne (nee Drake)’s complicated life. With art by Blue Beetle’s Rafael Alberquerque on one story and Victor Ibáñez on the other, this book looks fabulous. The stories are really inessential slices-of-Steph’s-life (although planting some seeds for some find teenage drama to come in the pages of Robin) but I’m sure the mini-legion of Spoiler fans out there will heartily enjoy it.
Detective Comics #845
Nightwing #145
Robin/Spoiler Special #1
Posted by Graig on May 22, 2008
(Dark Horse)
There was a plethora of new superhero universes created in the 1990’s, thus there was sea of capes and tights in that chromium age to wade through. It seemed that during the speculation boom everyone was trying to get in the game: Malibu’s “Ultraverse”; DC’s Milestone and Impact imprints; Image’s various creator-owned universe; Valiant-come-Acclaim’s universe; Jim Shooter’s Defiant; Neal Adam’s Continuity and I’m sure many others I’m completely forgetting about. Dark Horse had made itself a name by respectably handling such cinematic properties as Aliens, Predator and Terminator (certainly much better than subsequent cinematic outings would), while also providing a home for writers and artists to try their hand at creating their own properties (Sin City, Hellboy). That they too would toss a hat into the superhero ring wasn’t much of a surprise, but the manner in which they did was.
Sure each publisher had something different to offer, a different theme or hook to separate themselves from the rest, and Dark Horse’s “Comics Greatest World” (CGW) wasn’t much different. Like Valiant or the Ultraverse, CGW aspired to weave a tight continuity, the main difference was Dark Horse had put together a brain trust (Mike Richardson, Barbara Kesel, Chris Warner, Jerry Prosser and Randy Stradley) that spent two to three years planning the universe and its characters, rather than bringing disparate creators together and seeing what they came up with then striving to tie it all together.
What came out of CGW was four different, compartmentalized environments for the character to inhabit and cross-over into, and it was noticeable almost from the get-go that these environments, and not the characters, were really the stars. Arcadia was a degrading city scape, an average big city which had begun to decay due to political corruption and its mafia scene. Golden City was an experimental utopia that no doubt wouldn’t last, either from pressures internal or external. Steel Harbor was a sludge pit, a city overrun by gangs, and where the divide was obvious between the haves and have-nots. Cinnibar Flats was a military base where, in the late-1930’s, a UFO embedded itself into the Earth, and subsequent to 1940’s nuclear testing, became the epicenter for the paranormal population eruption.
The original “Comics Greatest World” mini-series told a somewhat unified tale over 16 issues, each locale receiving a four-issue focus as written by one of the CGW brain trust (with Richardson providing a single page prologue set in the 1940’s that spanned the entire series), and each issue introduced a new character. It was evident that some of the characters were undeniably more interesting than others, that some were created to lead their own series while others were strictly conceptual or background figures, and that some were just better designed than others.
CGW started off with one of their strongest figures, X, Arcadia’s hardcore vigilante (melding the aesthetic of Batman with the ruthlessness of the Punisher), following up with the Pit Bulls (easily the weakest concept introduced in CGW), Ghost (which would prove to have the most longevity as a concept) and Monster (self-descriptive). Golden City featured Rebel (the ugliest superhero design you ever shall see, a mullet AND a mowhawk?), followed by Mecha (the first of many man-with-symbiotic-alien-entity characters in the line), Titan (the obligatory Captain Marvel/Superman analog) and finally the team book Catalyst: Agents of Change led by Golden City’s matriarch, Grace. Steel Harbor followed, leading in with the notorious Barb Wire, the Machine, Wolf Pack and Motorhead, all of which I remember being much cooler 15 years ago. Finally there was Cinnibar Flats, housing the creatures of Division 13, the Japanese giant robot-inspired Hero Zero, demon hunter King Tiger (the sole magic-based character), and the Heretic from Out Of The Vortex.
Each character/team is competently introduced, a difficult task given the 15-page span the writers had to do it in, also saddled with the over-arcing story of aliens investigating the after-effects of the Heretic’s experiments from the 1940’s (ie, the superpowered beings inhabiting the earth). X, Catalyst, Barb Wire and the Heretic each dominate their respective locales, and that they would each subsequently have their own series was obviously by design. Golden City and Catalyst were, at the time, the weakest concepts, given that the marketplace was skewing towards grim and gritty rather than the struggles of maintaining a Utopia, but now days as a concept it fares quite well. In fact Arcadia and, moreover, Steel Harbor seem more trite, given how well worn dark and dangerous has become. The artwork for the first mini-series was provided by numerous sources, most solid contributors, like Eric Shanower, Doug Mahnke, Adam Hughes, Paul Gulacy, and more. The covers were even more impressive, by mostly superstar talent from Frank Miller, Art Adams, and Mike Mignola to Jerry Ordway, Dave Johnson, Walt Simonson and more.
Overall CGW remains an engaging project, both from a comic-book history standpoint, and as a story, the unfortunate side is it’s meant as an introduction, leaving dangling threads everywhere for the respective series’ that sprang from it to pick up, including no finite resolution to the overall story arc that continued in the 12-part Out of the Vortex series.
The follow-up mini-series to CGW was Will To Power, a more character-focussed tale centering around Titan, who is extremely powerful but also naive and easily manipulated. Much in the same manner as CGW, Will To Power was presented as 12 weekly 16-page chapters, each locale (written by their respective brain trust writers, again with Richardson providing a one-page prologue for each chapter) receiving a 3-issue arc where Titan faces off with the heroes of that area. The overall story is quite enthralling, as Titan’s power grows along with his dementia, he becomes apparently unstoppable. Richardson’s 16-pages of prologue give the greatest sense of where his character is coming from - slowly revealed over the span of the mini - while each of the writers does a good job escalating the threat level Titan provides. The weakest link, however was the need for Titan to be transitioned to each of the different locations, abruptly ending any real conflict until the finale (although each sub-arc picks up nicely upon his arrival).
Again, if not more so, Will To Power, strongly presents the CGW design, the four-landmarks structure of the “Dark Horse Heroes” universe, and when read together it truly does highlight that fact. The artistic angle comes together somewhat tighter with the 3-chapter structure getting a dedicated artist in most cases (Mike Manley in Arcadia, Terry Dodson in Golden City, Chris Warner for the Vortex).
It may not have had the decades of history behind it DC or Marvel had, and it may not have blossomed into lasting or, frankly, highly memorable creations, but surprisingly, it all holds up pretty well and remains solidly entertaining. I have a personal bias towards dead universes so I find CGW to be even more intriguing now than I did 15 years ago, and some of the loose threads from the first miniseries have piqued my interest enough to hit the bins. The Omnibus provides a very concise and affordable place to begin if you ever were curious about Dark Horse’s superhero line, and its a great place to start if you’re looking for some back-issue bin-diving to do.
Full disclosure: I didn’t actually acquire a copy of the monstrous 488-page collection, but rather I shuffled off into the cellar and retrieved the original bagged-and-boarded issues of Dark Horse’s “Comics Greatest World” and Will To Power mini-series. Yes, I purchased these series on their initial release, in a weekly, 16-page, $1 ($1.25 Canadian) format (do the math, here: there’s essentially 28 issues here, which in 1992/1993 dollars was worth $28. At a cover price of 24.95, you’re already saving $3, not accounting for inflation or interest. Not bad at all).
3 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Eric on April 29, 2008
(Marvel)
There are a few good things that can happen be a by-product of the same writer tackling a large event and most of the comics that tie-in – one cohesive story, full character development, a singular narrative, etc. But, as New Avengers #40 shows us, it can also lead to copious amounts of meandering exposition leading up a reveal that everybody and their mother saw coming from a Skrull world away. The biggest problem that I have with this issue is that it gives us absolutely nothing new that most readers didn’t already piece together in their heads after Secret Invasion #1, or anything that is worth caring about. I suppose after a very meaty run of issues and planning as massive an event as Secret Invasion you’re allowed a misfire or two, and for Brian Michael Bendis I’m afraid that this may be one of them. That’s not to say that this issue was a complete loss.
What we have here is basically a series of quasi-flashbacks told from the perspective of the Skrulls after the Avengers: Illuminati mini-series; how they formulated their plan and advanced their technology in order to survive among human beings completely undetected. There’s a part of me that believes it was too soon to have an issue devoted to the Skrulls motivation and infiltration, as it makes for a better story having them be a silent threat that can reveal themselves at any moment. In no way do I think it lessens the impact that the later issues of Secret Invasion will have, I just don’t think this was needed now, or possibly at all. And when I said that this issue was nothing but exposition – I wasn’t kidding. The entire book reads like a tossed script from a shelved James Bond film in which the evil villain with the scar pets his cat and tells Bond about how his giant laser is going to evaporate all of the cheese in Wisconsin, and holds the world ransom for one trillion dollars and a free iPod. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Jeb on March 11, 2008
(Marvel)
Yeah, I know… who needs another Wolverine mini-series? (Or ongoing, for that matter). I’ll acknowledge that Jason Aaron’s first issue of the monthly book was pretty good (I’d have said “surprisingly good,”, but I’ve read Scalped), but that doesn’t change the fact that Wolverine writers have been telling the same loner-seeking-his-true-identity story for one hell of a long time. However, since this book appears to be Brian K. Vaughn’s farewell to superhero comics, it warrants at least some consideration.
Though not a lot. It’s WW2, and Logan’s tossed into a Japanese prison camp. He effects his escape, dragging along a racist American POW whose characterization is about as subtle as Buford T. Pusser’s. On the outside, Logan meets a beautiful Japanese woman with a secret. They become intimate, and then…
Hey, wake up! I went to the trouble of reading this book-you can stay awake through the review!
But I can’t say that I blame you: I don’t know how long ago this particular Wolverine plotline wore out its welcome, but it was certainly in the preceding century. Vaughn’s characterization is surprisingly flat here, and though his dialog has some sparkle to it, I’m just really over Wolverine and his doomed Nipponese romances, and I’d have hoped Vaughn would be, too. After all, he was the guy who rethought Mystique from the ground up and made her short-lived series thoroughly engaging. The book’s not unreadable- just disappointing.
Is there a twist at the end? Sure, it’s a Brian K Vaughn book. And the only reason you won’t guess it halfway through is that you’ll refuse to believe he’s going to do it. And then he does. It’s not even a “what will happen next?” cliffhanger… it’s more a “they’re not REALLY going there, are they?” sort of thing. And that, I think, is the story’s biggest problem: the racist American, and the shadow that is about to fall over the two lovers, are clearly what drove Vaughn to write the book, and Wolverine’s umpteenth Japanese sojourn just becomes an excuse to get there.
Eduardo Risso’s continuing focus on 100 Bullets is probably the only thing that keeps him from being routinely mentioned in the same breath with the top artists at the Big 2 today. Every panel in this book breathes with life, close-ups have grit and weight, long shots and shadows are moody and exotic, and the snowy Japanese landscape can give you the chills. Even if the word balloons don’t carry the punch I’d hoped for, Risso makes turning every page a pleasure, and he turns a marginal recommendation into a more or less solid one for me.
So, if you’ve got any interest in Wolverine at all, you really don’t want to miss Risso’s take on him: the guy is just brilliant. If you can sort of take or leave him, then you might want to see what Risso can do without a briefcase and untraceable bullets. Otherwise, just re-read the last year’s worth of Y: The Last Man (or watch Lost)-that’s clearly where Vaughn was expending his energy.
Posted by Adam on March 9, 2008
(BOOM! Studios)
People have a lot of opinions about the current state of the comics industry. Some see it headed into a steep decline, others argue that it’s bouncing back from a lean decade. Most agree that we’re in the middle of a period of transition for the medium, which makes it very hard to get a fix on exactly where comics are headed next. But it’s clear that, as of right now, comics are no longer the populist medium they once were, nor do they attract many casual readers–usually you’re either a relatively serious comics fan, or you don’t read them at all.
Is this status likely to change? It’s a question that’s consuming the comics community these days, and one that’s probably several years from resolving itself. As I mentioned, though, there aren’t a lot of casual comics readers, which has done something funny to the medium: it’s pushed everything to extremes. To get noticed, or even to validate its proportionately high price, a comic has to do one of three things: appeal strongly to a niche market (superheroes included); experiment with the narrative form of comics; or be so unique, imaginative, or provocative that it would never gain a foothold in other, more conservative media. This is partly what’s made comics so interesting these days, but it’s also eroded the market for the kind of solid, well-told, but unspectacular comics that used to be the industry’s bread and butter. Comics like North Wind. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Graig on March 8, 2008
(Boom Studios)
Second Wave first emerged a few years ago as a six-issue series under the War of the Worlds banner, capitalizing on the Stephen Spielberg blockbuster and the public-domain-ness of the H.G. Wells title. This series is reprinted without the notorious title (perhaps, in part, because the name is still under copyright in the United Kingdom and the European Union, or perhaps because the late 1980’s TV series had an episode called Second Wave), but regardless it’s still quite obvious in the reading that writer Michael Alan Nelson is playing in Wells’ well-used, but resilient and durable, toybox. The thing about this series, however, is it’s not a direct sequel to the novel, the radio play, or the George Pal, Spielberg or any other visions, but Nelson’s own progression. Speculating on what would happen if, at the end of the battle most tellings conclude with, a second wave of attacks began.
To guide us through this tale is Miles, a nebbish, unfit, bespectacled man who’s the furthest thing from a hero, but has no choice but to become one when the war indiscriminately comes to him. His very first act, though, gets his wife killed, which, despite their faltering marriage, proves traumatic. With his best friend Duke, Miles tries to escape the war, to run away and hide, but the battlefield seems to be everywhere: big cities, small towns, country fields… no place to hide, not for long. Like many other other “aftermath” stories where the major threat is still out there, it’s the human element that is far scarier, and Miles and Duke encounter their fair share of the opportunistic dregs of human society. But they also encounter people far weaker than they are, people unsure or unable to fend for themselves, and soon the pair have themselves an entourage to protect, forcing Miles to man up.
The story is a mixed bag of awesome and contrived, and it excels at both which makes for uneven reading. Miles is a solid character to lead the reader through the world of back-roads in attempts to circumnavigate the ongoing battle, he’s flawed in a very human way I’m sure most of us can relate to. Being afraid in the face of such an overwhelming and unfamiliar threat has to be the most natural response. But it’s the moments of direct confrontation, where it would appear that the Martians are targeting Miles and co. specifically, that I find quite hokey and it pulls me out of the story. Equally the moments where the absence of logic and Deus Ex Machina allow for a character’s survival or plot revelation.
Boom Studios mainstay Chee handles the art chores here, and it has a much different feel than his later work on Keith Giffen’s Tag and currently The Foundation. The inks are much less heavy, working instead with crosshatches and finer lines allowing for more precise detailing and less abstract shadowing than he produces now. The entire series is presented in full color for the first time and Matt Webb does a fine job, especially with explosions and skies. Chee’s work on splash pages and two-page spreads are quite fantastic, and his composition of many scenes are incredible (the moment Miles closes the door on his wife down the basement stairs is brilliantly rendered). The story beats skew towards the dramatic for the most part, but occasionally become humorous or adventuresome, which the artist handles well, even if, story-wise, the shifts in tone are ill-suited.
Second Wave is definitely entertaining, but I do have my reservations with it, chief of them being the abrupt and unsatisfying ending of the sixth chapter, which leaves the characters’ stories lingering and their ultimate fate unresolved. This being my biggest frustration just proves that Nelson had found his groove with the characters and story, and I would actually like some more.
3 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on March 5, 2008
(Vertigo)
I really don’t know where to begin talking about the first issue of David Lapham’s Young Liars (and I’m not even sure whether I should bold the “David Lapham’s” as part of the book’s title or not… but checking the small print it’s only Young Liars so until someone points out something in the Chicago Manual of Style, I’m going to keep it like it is), obviously. Should I discuss Lapham’s brilliant (and lamented) Stray Bullets which I only just got into after he stopped publishing? Or should I mention the generally mediocre mainstream work he’s done with DC and Marvel over the years? Should I even bother to mention I remember first seeing his “house-style” work in the early days of Valiant? Should I discuss the fact that Vertigo’s having a tough go as of late launching new series that are sustaining popularity or having that Sandman/Preacher/Y:The Last Man/Fables resonance? No, no, god no, and maybe(?)…
I picked up a few months ago the first issue of the Vertigo series The Vinyl Underground. It was one of those books that failed to make any sort impact immediately, and probably would require a full storyline for me to decide whether I truly liked it or not (hence why it wasn’t reviewed here). Young Liars unfortunately is having the same level of influence with me. It’s got some snappy patter, an askew cast, and some quirky bits that all just scream prototypical Vertigo fare. Even visually it looks the part, with Lapham’s first full-color work (by Lee Loughridge) looking just as murky and bland as most Vertigo books and his lines playing the part, not too dissimilar from Simon Gane and Cameron Stewart’s work on the aforementioned Vinyl Underground, which itself is not far removed from the Philip Bond’s, Richard Case’s or Steve Pugh’s of Vertigo Past.
There’s some nice design elements going into this book, like the cassette-credits on page 1 or the unabashedly in-your-face kewl cover design (were the book colored like the cover image, it would provide a much different visual experience), or the rad logo, and I think the story could use a bit of that flair within its pages itself.
The first issue introduces us to protagonist and narrator Danny Noonan, a small-town kid who made his way to the big city with not much other than a few bucks and a guitar in hand, with a little talent to spare. He’s made a place for himself in the city, with an odd array of friends, some whom he likes, and others not so much. Really, his life’s not great, and he could it leave at any time were it not for Sadie Dawkins, the daughter of a grocery chain mogul and head-trauma victim. She took a bullet in the brain a while back and ever since it’s made her behavior erratic, prone to drastic mood swings, violence, and sexual urges… a one-woman party. Danny’s in love, but she’s barely grounded in reality, which only spells heartache for him. Why we have to get a wet rag like Danny to be our guide through this world when the more interesting view would be from inside Sadie’s brain, i don’t know (this “everyman” point of view is so dull), but there it is.
Sadie, as witnessed by her dramatic posturing on the cover, is the star of the show, the main attraction, and if anything is going to bring me back to this book, it’s her. Lapham’s created a spotlight character, just he hasn’t found the correct wattage of bulb to shine on her yet. She’s living on borrowed time, that bullet lodged in her brain threatening to kill her any second. Is it really reacting with her mental status or is she getting away with things because she has the excuse to? And then there’s the weird stuff like being bulletproof, which obviously isn’t possible… right? There’s other characters here too, in this punk rock soap opera, but they aren’t given nearly as much attention or importance to readily invest in yet, despite some definite shenanigans going on in their lives already.
I don’t think this is Vertigo’s next breakout hit, but there is something here that could provide for an interesting couple years if developed properly. Lapham may be giving Vertigo something back which it lost some time ago, though, which is a series that isn’t best served by trade collections, but rather a monthly comic best read that way.
3 out of 5 Vikings
