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 Adam on October 7, 2008
(DC)
All the while Grant Morrison’s been dazzling us with his run on All-Star Superman, he’s also been doing something rather more challenging and bent in his run on Batman. In the process he’s attempted to synthesize and redefine the history of DC’s two most well-known superheroes, and he’s done so by specifically referencing the Silver Age. This is perhaps an easier task with Supes, whose goofy but imaginative adventures from the late 40s through to the 60s provided a lot of fodder for the character’s mythology even when re-imagined in the 1978 movie or the post-Crisis relaunch. As silly as some of that stuff is, it does seem to cohere to a consistent theme of optimism and imagination that fits the character of Superman, and besides, even the stuff DC tried to strip away from his history has slowly been creeping back in. As long as it’s all handled with a certain degree of intelligence, the way-out aspects of Superman’s mythology—multi-coloured Kryptonite, Bizarro, Krypto the Super-dog, and so on—all seem natural. They work, and they’re inextricably linked with the character.
Batman’s trickier. Much more so. That’s probably because, ever since the late 60s, the character’s been slowly redefined through a more natural process that culminated with stuff like The Dark Knight Returns and The Killing Joke: Batman as noir on speed, a grim avenger facing off against twisted, monstrous villains whose candy-coloured silliness has become the very thing that makes them creepy rather than juvenile, with the Joker as the apotheosis of this concept.
All well and good, but as we all know, there are aspects of Batman’s history that cause the average fanboy to cringe. If they see Bats as “dark” and “serious” and “gritty”, a supposedly realistic, intense, and badass superhero, then it surely doesn’t help that image to bring up the Adam West TV show. The 50s and early 60s comics are even goofier, often sending Batman off to outer space, saddling him with a weird array of costumes and identity changes, and tormenting him with an imp from another dimension. Yet, here’s Morrison, bringing up these aspects of the Bat-mythology in the same year that gave us The Dark Knight, and introducing (or reintroducing) them into the current, ultra-dark continuity of the books. He’s even doing so in a storyline that features one of the most freakishly skeezy incarnations of the Joker we’ve ever seen. Morrison’s goal is apparently to somehow reconcile these two sensibilities…and while it’s too early to say for sure if he’s succeeded, he’s certainly created something unique here.
It helps that, in this issue, everything seems to be finally falling into place. Morrison’s Batman run has been a lot more jarring and dense than his take on Superman, or even (and this may be a controversial opinion) his scripts for Final Crisis. Morrison’s tossing out a whole bunch of interesting ideas that tie into Batman’s history, but in his usual style, he often doesn’t bother to develop them in a coherent fashion–or so it’s seemed for much of this run. An issue away from the climax, however, things are suddenly snapping into place. Much of Batman’s 50-era adventures, we’ve learned, took place in his mind during a bout of psychological reprogramming involving sensory deprivation. The current storyline has been centered on “The Batman of Zur-En-Arrh”, a Batman doppelganger from outer space who Batman encountered in the 50s; we’ve now learned that this story was a hallucination meant to create another, emergency backup persona for Batman in the event of a psychological attack. Zur is a sort of positive version of the Manchurian Candidate, a “Batman without Bruce Wayne” who can keep fighting even when everything he cares about has seemingly been destroyed. Likewise, the Bat-Mite, who’s been dogging his footsteps for the last two issues, is revealed as a personification of “the fading voice of reason”, one who’s forced to abandon him completely as Batman enters the inner sanctum of the Black Glove.
We also finally get a better idea of who the Glove and his attendant Club of Villains may be—they’re basically a bunch of rich socialites gambling on Batman and his ability to survive this psychological attack. Almost every plot thread Morrison let loose is suddenly coming together in an extremely dramatic way, and the climax of this issue really packs a punch. Batman goes symbolically deeper into madness than he’s ever gone, entering a David Lynch-style arena to do battle with the Joker and learn a twist that you probably saw coming, yet works pretty effectively anyway.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a comic storyline take this long to really pay off, and then to do so all at once, so near the end…it’s both impressive and a little frustrating. As I said, this has been a far more jarring, disconcerting run than Morrison’s other DC contributions, but that fits the character, after all. If All-Star Superman transforms the Silver Age trappings of his book into something noble and stirring, it’s only logical that Batman’s should wind up in a darker, more psychologically charged place. Whatever you think of the results, the simple fact that Morrison’s actually done something new and interesting with Batman after all these years warrants a thumbs-up. That the book is suddenly firing on all cylinders dramatically is just the icing on the cake.
4 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Adam on September 29, 2008
(DC)
This review is coming along a little late in the cycle, since this book came out almost two weeks ago. If I wanted to, I could come up with a bunch of excuses, but subconsciously I think it boils down to one reason:
I was intimidated.
I believe comic books are a great medium, one with an immense potential for both art and entertainment. I further believe that we’re living in an extremely exciting time for comics, because they’re only just starting to tap into their full potential as an art form, breaking free of corporate superheroes while still remaining sufficiently tethered to it to produce works of interest in that genre. These days, you never quite know when the next masterpiece might come around the corner, or whether it’s going to come from some obscure self-publisher or the towering halls of one of the majors.
The trouble is, when one of those masterpieces does come along, it’s a little overwhelming for anyone who wants to do serious commentary on comics. It’s one thing to goof around and toss out your thoughts on a bit of fun and frivolity like, say, the monthly Conan comic, but what do you do when someone produces a dense, awe-inspiring work that serves as a summation of a character with over 70 years of history, a literary analysis, and a game-changing addition to the mythos of superheroes in general, and does it in a mere 12 issues? For the love of Rao, I’ve already read a review of All-Star Superman calling it “the best superhero comic of all time”! How do you engage with that without looking like a fool?
I guess I’ll just have to make myself look like a fool. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Adam on September 3, 2008
(DC)
At this point, almost no one seems to know exactly what Final Crisis is about. No, I don’t mean that in a wise-ass, “Grant Morrison’s so weird and confusing” kinda way, I just mean that Final Crisis threatens to transform the DC Universe (again), but the top brass have so far kept it a pretty tight secret *how* it’s going to do so. Our only clue so far seems to be that Morrison wants to deal with the logical endpoint of the creeping “darkness” and “grittiness” that’s been infecting the DCU, and, winkingly, tying it together with the editorial oversight and corporate shenanigans that have been making such a mess out of things. The most obvious connection has been between the cancellation of Kirby’s Fourth World Saga back in the 70s, and the apparent triumph of the forces of Apokolips (a connection that Kirby himself made), but there have been a number of others. Now, in Final Crisis: Superman Beyond, Morrison seems to be dropping hints that the DC Universe is going to somehow be saved from commercialization and violent grim ‘n’ grittiness by the end of this series. Now that’ll be a neat trick.
In the main Final Crisis storyline, a bomb went off in the Daily Planet offices, causing serious injury to Lois Lane. Superman sits at her bedside, keeping her alive by massaging her heart with his heat vision, unable to leave or she’ll die. As this series begins, though, Superman is visited by Zillo Valla, a “Monitor”, one of the extradimensional beings who watch over the multiverse, and to whom we were introduced in “Countdown”. She’s stopped time to allow Superman to join her on a desperate mission that will somehow impact the Crisis; if he helps her, she can provide a means of saving Lois’s life. Superman signs on board Zillo’s vessel (which resembles a certain familiar yellow submarine) with a number of other versions of himself, including a violent, evil antimatter Superman, a Nazi Superman, a guy who bears a suspicious resemblance to Doctor Manhattan, and, interestingly enough, the kiddie version of Captain Marvel we’ve recently seen relaunched by Jeff Smith and Mike Krunkel. Almost immediately, they find themselves pursued by the forces of the “Dark Monitor” (in other words, the Anti-Monitor from Crisis on Infinite Earths) and are forced to flee into the “arteries” between time and space (in other words, the gutters between comic panels).
There’s more–a lot more–and all of it filled to bursting with an extra-strength dose of Morrison’s wild imagination. We get a brief tour of the 52 Universes (for the first time since 52 itself, I believe), as well as some background on the monitors, and a seeming confirmation that, yes, evil is destined to win this particular conflict. And, as you’ve probably heard, it’s all in 3-D. When all of this is put together, it can be a little hard on the ol’ noggin, even for regular Morrison readers, but hey–better a hypercompressed comic loaded with ideas that you have to read several times than a bland, decompressed fight comic, right?
Morrison has had an odd stewardship of Superman for the past couple of years, writing the out-of-continuity “All-Star Superman” which has nevertheless come to redefine the character. In some ways this book seems like the culmination of what he was doing there, but whereas All-Star is optimistic, classicist, and generally warm and fuzzy, this story has a queasy sense of unease about it…like an acid trip that’s just starting to go bad. A big part of that is Doug Mahnke’s artwork. What I find interesting about Mahnke is that he’s able to replicate classical superhero draftsmanship, but he adds a subtle sense of underlying chaos and detail that brings it down to a more tactile level, and not always in a pleasant way. You get the impression that his characters really do engage in bodily processes like breathing and shedding skin flakes, that metals in his world rust, that food goes bad. Frank Quitely, of All-Star Superman, has some of the same style, but Mahnke’s work has a certain underlying…unwholesomeness to it. He’s a perfect fit with this material, showing us a vast, cosmic mythology worthy of DC’s past, but making us feel that things are on the verge of going very, very wrong indeed.
Speaking of Mahnke, he also drew Morrison’s Seven Soldiers: Frankenstein, and his depiction of a decaying, superior civilization in this book seems drawn from Seven Soldiers. In fact, there are a ton of echoes, callbacks and reflections of pretty much all of Morrison’s past work for DC, even The Invisibles (“Ultramenstruum” is mentioned as the Macguffin of the series). As I believe Morrison himself mentioned in an interview, this may not be the “final crisis” for the DCU as a whole, but it’s the culmination, and (mostly) the conclusion, of his own work for the company. One thing’s for certain, then: however the DCU stands at the end of Final Crisis, it’ll be a lot less weird without Morrison in it. Pity.
4 out of 5 Vikings.
Posted by Eric on August 13, 2008
(DC Comics)
Zur-en-arrh, eh?
Grant Morrison, you’re in a very small minority of writers that can have the editorial and artistic leeway granted by the publisher of a major character to do anything you desire. And you don’t waste a panel, do you? There’s definitely a part of me as a reader that gets excited about the unlikely idea of Bat-mite providing the exposition in a Batman comic published in 2008, but there’s another part of me that wonders how new readers or people unfamiliar with the Bat mythos will receive something as far out as this. I mean, all in all the story of Batman RIP is fairly straightforward; a group called the Black Glove is trying to destroy Bruce Wayne and Batman while ruining everything in his life. The motivations behind that, and how the plan came together are still mysteries, but it’s the details and how the story is getting from A to B that is why this book is worth reading. I’ve made it in no ways unclear that I’ve absolutely loved this story arc thus far, and when all is said and done I think it’s going to blow us away. That being said, I was wondering in which issue was the story going to drag ever so slightly, but enough that it’s noticed due to the ridiculous pace the first three issues put forth. While the first issue’s main criticism was it retread on plot points that had already been established for the sake of getting new readers to catch-up, this book takes a break from the revelations and twists to set up the last two issues which seem as though they’re going to revolve around the Joker and the ultimate destruction of Bruce Wayne. As with the rest of this story, this issue had it’s reasons and place in the arc, but we’ll have to wait a few weeks to see where it’s all heading. The issue is good, the art is great and for the next installment I cannot wait… See what I did there?
4 out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on June 26, 2008
(DC)
I said at the end of my two and a half Viking review for the first issue that Grant Morrison “always has a plan, but it’s anybody’s guess how clear the story will be by [Final Crisis'] completion.” Well, as much as I’d love to spout Hannibal’s popular refrain “I love it when a plan comes together”, it’s just not time yet. I will say, however, that things are definitely looking up.
The first issue was a head scratcher, disparate threads strewn about the pages, hardly a single transition amongst them. This issue, comparatively, is tight. Oh it’s not a wicker chair yet, but there’s a leg starting to take shape at least as Morrison weaves his tale of gods, villains, murder and mystery.
Is this issue any less confusing than the first? Yes, noticeably so. A bit of a puzzler still, sure, but at least now we’re starting to get a sense of momentum. Looking back a little bit to his JLAdays it would seem Morrison is hinging much of his story around the big guns, currently Martian Manhunter (and his death), Green Lantern (and the interstellar police Corps), The Flash(es), Batman and Superman all taking a prominent place in the story. Detective Dan Turpin continues to provide the man-on-the-street perspective of the events unfolding, but of course, his role to play is so much larger than he understands, although we the reader are privy to more of the details than he.
This issue kicks off with a bit of a side-step into practically unexplored territory in the DC Universe, that is Japan, and Morrison in a few quick pages, establishes and entire superhero culture different from virtually all other superhero landscapes, flirting incredibly with the popularized image of the consumerist, marketable, trend-conscious Japanese youth culture. It’s an imaginative and stimulating (if brief) diversion from the existing story threads that dovetails nicely back into the fold, while acting as a pause the series needs to intrigue the readers who may have dismissed it after the first issue.
All the gripes I had with the series after the first chapter haven’t disappeared completely, but things like trying to figure out how Death of the New Gods or Countdown fit are now pretty much pointless. The story tried (barely) to bridge them last issue, and failed, and now it’s moving on. A New God is dead, and Martian Manhunter murdered. How? Why? The Justice League wants to know. And now the gods of Apokolypse are manifesting in human form on earth. Uh oh. And Libra is out to prove the bad guys are in control, which bad news for all. While I don’t think a new reader will be feeling any more at ease with this second issue, I think a casual DC comics reader will start to get a sense of the overall picture. Sure, there’s a bunch of little details that still have me furrowing my brow (like why was Turpin’s ear bleeding, and what did Batman’s comment “John has one hell of a right hook, doesn’t he” mean?) but chances are these do have some logic behind them (or I’m just dense and missing something).
I’m still finding J.G. Jones’ figures and details to be astounding, but his storytelling still leaves something to be desired. I’m not sure if it’s his fault or the writer’s (or editorial for that matter), as a few captions regarding changes in locale, time or setting would prove incredibly useful to the story’s fluidity.
Now that I’m comfortable in my belief that Morrison has things under control, I’m going to stop second-guessing him, I’m going to avoid convention buzz and internet debates and on-line annotations and corporate hype, and just see how this unfolds over the next six (or seven or ten) months. I’m convinced more now than I was last month that Final Crisis isn’t meant to be an event, not of the cross-over kind, but a contained story, akin to the non-event status of Identity Crisis. Elements from DC’s past will trickle in, sure, but it’s written to work both as stand alone and part of the greater continuity, and when it’s over the status quo will be altered, just how much remains to be seen.
3 and a half out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Eric on June 2, 2008
(DC Comics)
The modern superhero tale has a wide variety of stories, characters, and quality. In the grand scheme of things, there are many people who believe that these archetypes have lived on past their golden age, and as with any other form of creative media; everything that can be done has been done. With a character that has endured nearly seventy years, how is it logically feasible to be expected to spin an intelligent, and wholly original story in the midst of the “Event Era”. Don’t ask me, please direct all of your questions to Grant Morrison. Within the pages of Batman, over the past year Morrison has been able to create in depth, surreal and nearly existential plot threads which all lead to the death of the Batman. Whether or not “death” implies the mortal end of Bruce Wayne himself is already somewhat of a moot point and a foregone conclusion that it will most likely not happen in the literal sense of the title, but the journey that Morrison is taking us on makes you wonder if anything is in fact possible.
I gave the first issue of Batman R.I.P. (#676) a perfect score, and to be perfectly honest, this issue blows it away on all counts. I’m fighting the urge to relate it to the allegory put forth in Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, but we are truly seeing Bruce Wayne’s decent into madness with his world getting darker and darker by the moment. While in this issue he wasn’t traveling through a jungle by boat with a mysterious ferry captain (unless you count Jezebel), the way that Morrison and artist Tony Daniel paralleled Bruce’s impending break down with his traveling deeper into the Batcave echoes Marlow’s tale in a nearly perfect way. And the big mystery that this issue alludes to is: who exactly is Bruce Wayne’s Mr. Kurtz? WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Graig on May 29, 2008
(DC)
If I have one problem with Final Crisis it’s that I’ve read far too much about Final Crisis before actually reading Final Crisis. What I mean is I’ve been over to Newsarama and CBR and the like reading a plethora of interviews with Grant Morrison and Dan Didio and the other folks tangentially involved in the proceedings — not to mention having seen about a third of the first issue already via preview pages and images — thus my brain is swimming with insight into the series, which, quite frankly is distracting me from what’s actually going on in this first issue, as well as hindering me from honestly assessing the execution of the book.
My first impression was befuddlement. I was trying to pin too much of what I already knew (or rather was told and/or had read on the comics blogs) to what was on the pages. Morrison’s ideas on the New Gods (as previously presented in Seven Soldiers: Mister Miracle) seemed to be the focus of his interviews, but it’s only one small element of the book (so far). The tagline “The Day Evil Won” doesn’t bear fruit in this issue, although Morrison’s proclamation that it begins with Anthro and ends with Kamandi does. And yes, a fairly major hero (whose name, if you weren’t paying attention to the “rumor mill” [is it still a rumor if it's indirectly confirmed before it happens?], rhymes with Carson VanGunther) dies, as do a quartet of minor characters and one of Kirby’s boys, and the most surprising aspect is they’re all completely inglorious deaths.
My second impression — which is to say how I felt after reading it a second time after getting over my initial confusion — was something resembling both appreciation and disappointment. What I get from this first issue is a sense that it’s not your standard “mega-epic crossover”, but instead a stand-alone mini-series that happens to tackle the entirety of the DC Universe’s workings. Morrison has set up a number of threads: a Green Lantern police procedural/murder investigation; a child kidnapping mystery; the curious incident of the past meeting the future; Libra’s organizing of super-criminals; some to-do with the Monitors; and finally some stuff going on with the (New) Gods that’s affecting everything. The problem right now is these are all quite disparate elements — which no doubt will be bridged as the series progresses — but the disjointedness is palpable and disorienting.
The other downside of all these disparate elements is there’s not enough time to embed backstory. It’s a stand-alone mini-series in terms of how it progresses, but not stand-alone where it starts. Not reading Green Lantern? Well, you’re not going to know about the Alpha Lanterns. Didn’t read Countdown? You’re going to be more than puzzled by the Monitors’ society (I know I am). Didn’t catch the last issue of Justice League of America? Me neither, but I think something there led into this. The Death of the New Gods mini-series plays into this as well… I think (dunno, didn’t read it). Too much of Final Crisis is not casual reader friendly which in the short run is to its detriment, and may harm its effectiveness in the long run. As a longtime DC comics fan, though, the various story elements are intriguing, especially since Morrison has yet to establish his focal point. Right now, it’s all mood, a foreboding atmosphere across time and dimension in the DCU. You can feel something big is going to happen and that you want to be there when it does.
The mini-series brings together Morrison and artist J.G. Jones for the first time since their brilliant collaboration on Marvel Boy a decade ago. Jones has been working primarily as a cover artist in the intervening years and his opening five pages show off his pin-up ability with two splash pages and a two-page spread among them. It opens the book cinematically but also quickens the pace unintentionally, and a proper pacing is something the book never settles into. Jones is an impressive artist, and the book looks damn fine, with exceptional detailing, inking and colors, but there are some narrative glitches and obtuse panel placements that hinder the clarity of storytelling. The cutaway to a scene mid-conversation between Dr. Light and Mirror Master is quite jarring (the whole scene, actually, makes no sense, I imagine, unless you’ve read Salvation Run), as is the “murder scene” as shown on Human Flame’s cel-phone (use of a cellular-screen-shaped panel should have been called for here, as I didn’t realize at first this is what was happening).
Final Crisis has all the Morrison-esque staples: dense structure; layered stories; a grand scope; oblique themes; and a lot of confusion. The Scottish maestro always has a plan, but it’s anybody’s guess how clear the story will be by its completion. The ingredients, at least, are there for an engrossing ride. If you’re not already invested in the DCU, I don’t suppose this will ease you in any, but as a fan, yeah, I’m still feeling the excitement… afterall, it’s not that often that I re-read any comic three times over in one day to pick it apart for meaning and understanding (I guess the question is should I have to?)
2 and a half out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on May 16, 2008
(DC)
Back in 1996 Grant Morrison wasn’t THE Grant Morrison he is today. The Grant Morrison of 1996 was Arkham Asylum’s Grant Morrison, or Doom Patrol’s/Animal Man’s/The Invisibles‘ Grant Morrison… all very Vertigo, which to the core superhero contingent meant “weird”, and rightfully so. ’90’s superhero readers weren’t into weird… they were into shoulder armor, excessive ink lines, big boobs and lots of titles that included the letter “x” (I’ve recently been inventorying my comics collection and you’d be surprised how many titles there were with the letter “x” in it that weren’t at all mutant related). Similarly, Mark Millar of 1996 was not the Mark Millar we know today (which, given your particular disposition towards his writing might be a good thing)… he wasn’t The Ultimates‘ Mark Millar or Fantastic Four’s/Wanted’s/The Authority’s Mark Millar, no, he was rather just “who the hell is” Mark Millar.
Anyway the two Scots superstars paired up for a few assignments in the mid-90’s which, I think for many fans, culminated in this briefly lived but cherished original superhero concept. Say what you will about the 1990’s (and I talk a lot of smack about the era) DC did try a lot out a lot of concepts which you have to give them credit for (although, similarly, they pulled the rug out from under a lot of concepts before they really had a chance to get a foothold). Of course, much of them were utter trash (I don’t think anyone’s bemoaning the loss of Gunfire or Xenobrood [there's one] or Firebrand, but I’m sure I’d be surprised) but then a few gems, like Chase, Xero [there's another] and Primal Force barely lived long enough for the devotees to rally a counter-cancellation protest.
I missed out completely on Aztek at the time — which is surprising given my ’90’s predisposition to trying out pretty much any DC title — and I have had intentions to get to it, having heard nothing but good things about it over the years since cancellation. Obviously the names attached to the title carry more weight than they ever did, and Aztek’s role in Morrison’s seminal JLA run (or his appearance in the Justice League Unlimited cartoon) I’m sure more than perplexed the many fans who hadn’t read the title, so a trade has been long overdue.
I wasn’t certain what to expect out of Aztek, even though I literally just re-read Morrison’s JLA issues (lots of seeds planted for Final Crisis, fyi), Aztek’s role in that series was minor, and characterization of him is almost nil. The opening page of the first issue finds a stark, full-page pin-up of a dorky looking character called “the Piper”, and the revelation that follows is he’s a former supervillain being blackmailed into re-emerging by robbing a bank and facing the local super-hero, a psychopathic Punisher-analogue called Bloodtype. From there we meet a young, blond man, obviously our hero, who’s come to the city named Vanity on a mission: to wait for the Shadow God to appear and confront him. It’s not a very proactive mission, so this man searches for an identity, a job, an apartment, and it’s clear that he’s not stupid or naive, but he is a stranger to the surroundings. Convergence: he winds up at the bank which the Piper has come to hold up, and Bloodtype has come to annihilate the criminal. Transforming into the avatar of the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl, he intervenes, although, unlike most superheroes, it’s not with force. Instead, he talks, resorting to fisticuffs and other such actions as a last resort. Everything turns sour for both the Piper and Bloodtype and our hero winds up becoming the city’s new protector and obtaining the secret identity of the Piper: Dr. Curt Falconer.
Throughout the series we learn how distinctively different a superhero Aztek is. For starters, he’s just doing the superhero thing to bide his time, just as he’s doing the secret identity thing. It’s almost as if the Shadow God can’t appear soon enough for him. Along the way, he meets Green Lantern, Batman and Superman, as well he’s put through his paces facing off against numerous, newly-created bizarre villains as well as the Joker. This isn’t a story though of a young man who’s new to his powers and inexperience in fighting or tactical combat or problem solving. No, it becomes fairly clear that, while young, Aztek is clearly expertly trained in using his powers and resolving problems other than by force. The series actually has a fairly comedic undercurrent in exploiting the typical problems of the new hero by clearly acknowledging that Aztek is more than up to any challenge he faces. There’s no “gosh wow” to him, just the occasional moment of “huh, never dealt with this before” (which happens more often in his private life than in his superhero life, such as his complete inability to interact women). There’s an over-arcing reason for all that happens to the character, and it’s partially revealed here (and expanded on a bit more in JLA).
The environment Aztek calls home, Vanity, is a strange place, a city constantly under development, and apparently the map of the city changes virtually daily. I got a sense that there was a greater mystery being built around the city itself (as the mystery of Aztek, his homeland, and his benefactors are all laid bare by the series end, if quite unresolved), and that there was something malevolent about the city itself, the film Dark City coming to mind.
The first three issues featured backmatter which would prove inconsequential by the series end, but the second issue’s superhero registration card is utterly hilarious, while the third issue’s book review offers insight into Vanity’s creation (and creator).
It is unfortunate that the threads Morrison and Millar were sewing within the series will ever get left unfulfilled, and since Aztek’s self-destruction in Morrison’s final JLA issue, there’s no real means to go back to Aztek’s supporting cast or any dangling plot threads. However, the series doesn’t exactly end with a huge question mark either. Issue nine presents a few snippets of what would have come, but issue ten (purposefully) inaugurates Aztek into the JLA and allows things to move forward from there (however little things actually did move forward). That said, Vanity is a very curious place which will never be the next Metropolis or Gotham, but could easily fit with the Opal City/Coast City/Keystone City etc. mapping of DC’s America. Another (Morrison-written) hero should surely take residence there so that it’s unusual landscape can be further explored.
Nothing in Aztek: The Ultimate Man is typical, even spoofs of superheroes don’t do this entertaining a job of toying with conventions. Though character died in the year 2000 (JLA #41), built into the character already was the notion of legacy, so I won’t be surprised if we see Aztek reemerge. This was a fine and fun enough read to make for a character worthy of being nostalgic about. Certainly a standout amongst most comics of the 1990’s, and barely feeling dated, if at all.
3 and a half out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Eric on May 13, 2008
(DC Comics)
Through the better part of the last year and a half, Grant Morrison has been carefully weaving a story that will shake the foundation of the Dark Knight to his core, and it’s finally starting to be realized in Batman #676. Taken as individual pieces of the puzzle, certain issues have a sort of scatter-brained logic that can sometimes get a bit confusing when taken on their own. But, with the first issue of Batman R.I.P. we are finally seeing the bigger picture come together in a very exciting and horrifying manner. In a time where events are over hyped beyond reason, and it’s getting harder and harder to find a writer that perfectly melds with a character, Morrison is taking an time honored concept in the comic medium and from the looks of this first issue; making it new again. I feel that there are many people who can successfully and entertainingly write Batman, but there are only a select handful of creators who understand Batman. In my opinion Grant Morrison isn’t just one of that handful, he’s arguably the best.
Nearly twenty years ago a transcendently dark and psychological take on Batman was put forth in the form of Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on a Serious Earth, and it came at a time when comics were just starting to take their marquee characters in new and deeper directions. Watchmen and The Dark Knight Returns are largely responsible for the modern storylines and character arcs we see today, but Arkham Asylum was able to establish, break, and rebuild a character all within the pages of one fluid narrative. From the beginning it was clear that Morrison had a unique grasp and vision for the character, and nearly three years ago when it was announced that he was returning as the ongoing series writer for Batman, it was rumored that something big was in the future. And after the first issue of Batman R.I.P., it’s going to be one helluva summer for Bruce Wayne. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Graig on May 1, 2008
(DC)
DC had a brilliantly successful 80-page/$1 promotion with Countdown To Infinite Crisis, written by Geoff Johns, Greg Rucka and Judd Winick, it set the stage for the mini-series that would precipitate the Infinite Crisis event, and also showed DC that multiple writers could come together and create a unified and functional whole that would manifest later as 52.
The following year, at the end of the last Crisis, DC tried it again, giving us DCU: Brave New World, another 80-page/$1 book that, rather than providing a complete and engaging story, fed 7 less-than-noteworthy preludes to such underperforming mini-series as Uncle Sam and the Freedom Fighters, Martian Manhunter, The Trials of Shazam, OMAC, and The Creeper. The weekly Countdown also came out of this. It wasn’t much of a read, thoroughly unsatisfying and feeling less like a short story compilation and more like a sales pitch. Compared to the Blue Beetle’s death in Countdown to Infinite Crisis, the return of the Monitor(s) was barely eyebrow raising.
I was expecting more of the former and less of the latter with DC Universe #0, primarily because of the names involved: Grant Morrison and Geoff Johns (who along with Mark Waid and Greg Rucka became the new architects of the DC Universe). I had heard this was the bridge between the end of the Countdown weekly and Morrison’s Final Crisis, as apparently there desperately needed to be one (I hopped off the “Countdown” train right early and avoided anything with its trade dressings like I would plague monkeys). Alas, this zero issue has nothing to do with “Crisis In Time” Zero Hour (the 1994 event comic which popularized the “0″ issue), and less to do with Countdown or Final Crisis and everything to do with being 50cents worth of advertising for upcoming storylines in Wonder Woman, Batman, and a host of, no doubt “Final Crisis”-branded crossovers.
You may have heard “the buzz” on Newsarama or CBR of His Return (no, not Jesus) but don’t worry, you’re not missing anything. Three short pages are given to preview stories like “Batman R.I.P.” or the Spectre/Question-driven Revelations followed by an advertisement for said storyline (as if it weren’t painfully obvious enough, they had to rub it in). There’s a narrative from him (rhymes with Hairy Talon) that theoretically joins the disparate parts together, but, seriously, it’s a big garbled mess of a comic that’s 100% fanboy wank serving no decisive story or structure and bridges nothing but your coin purse and your comic shop’s cash drawer.
This book is completely unnecessary unless you like paying for advertising (hell, I used to pick up Previews every month for a decade, so who am I to judge). The only consolation is that it’s 50 cents, and when’s the last time you paid 50 cents for anything? But given its release in such close proximity to Free Comic Book Day, I won’t be surprised to some shops piling their leftovers of these right up beside them.
one-half out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Adam on November 21, 2007
(DC Comics)
It took me a while to get into Grant Morrison. When I first encountered his work, I found it to be interesting but confounding, dense, and above all, weird. It also seemed to suffer from an arbitrary plotlessness in parts that led me to write Morrison off as overhyped at the time. When I finally got around to delving deeper into his work–I think it was the second volume of “The Invisibles” combined with “Seven Soldiers” that did it for me–I realized that his atypical storytelling style was towards a greater purpose, and stuff I’d blown off as poorly-thought-out earlier in the run was in fact carefully calibrated towards a high purpose, and Morrison simply wasn’t interested in coddling readers. Since then I’ve always given the God of All Comics the benefit of the doubt whenever something in his work confuses me at first. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by Elgin on January 10, 2007
(DC Comics)
Before the Watchmen, or Miracleman, or the Dark Knight comic book heroes were not personified by their faults nor their foibles. Their struggles with their manias were not central to the stories and their darkest natures were not something they fought with on a daily basis. There was even a time before Spiderman and the Fantastic Four when the daily challenges of life did not determine how lead characters comported themselves in public and we knew little of our their private lives.
These changes give a texture to today’s tales, bring complexity to the plots, allow a more adult outlook to how characters may react to a given situation, and often redefine how readers approach stories. These changes also removed a lot of the fun in any given book and made almost every person involved less admirable. While not the driving cause behind the phenomenon, much of this period also involves the continual and relentless diminution of the audience for comic books. A reduction that, were it not for the additional finances made available to the publishers from movies and other licensing goods, would have already pushed the medium to the point of no return. Comics cannot exist without sufficient audience, and audience cannot grow in a medium perceived as designed for children, if children have no way to be introduced. Are there regular fans who did not read comics as a child? If so, they are few and far between.
Whether or not this situation is the motivating force behind this series is less important than the fact that here the first superhero is being re-worked and re-explained as he first was. Pure in spirit and intent, in stories that can be enjoyed by all ages, Superman, those people he always associated with, and some not so common, are given new life in an old form. Without guile and with manifest good intent, Superman goes about his daily business saving the world and with subtle reworking and flashbacks, the new reader quickly is brought to know all the basics of who, what, when, how, and why. Grant Morrison has every reason to be happy with his writing and Frank Quitely has created images that are practically definitive. Their portion of this title’s existence should last for at least another six issues, and hopefully for many more.
If you haven’t read this series, if you haven’t read Superman titles in a while, if you know kids that are candidates for entry into fandom, if you are tired of troubled and angst ridden people who should be a lot happier with their lot in life, if you want clear stories and images that deliver what we all imagine in our minds we would be like should the power descend to us, then this book is for you. A hardback compilation of the story thus far is expected shortly, and back issues should be readily available. Pick up one or the other because plain, clear fun has returned to comics.
4 and a half out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on December 30, 2006
(DC Comics)
If the cover didn’t give it away, let me, the Question (aka Vic Sage) is dead… apparently. Hard to really say since he died once before (at the beginning of the Dennis O’Neil and Denys Cowan series in the late-’80’s). All signs point towards former Gotham City police officer Renee Montoya taking up the faceless mantle of the Question, but herrings are red for a reason(?). It’s hard to, at this point, acutely “review” what is basically a fifty-two issue mini-series. Either you’re reading it or you’re not. I doubt there are people who are picking this up part way through without going back and picking up the beginning. It’s more likely people will drop it before the end. But if you were going to go cold turkey and jump on in, this is one of the better places to start. Black Adam and his family are hunted by a new Suicide Squad, leading to the gruesome death of the Persuader (seems there’s been a lot more gore in the DCU than usual as of late, subtlety is a lost art). The Black Adam story is kind of predictable, but Luthor’s “Everyman Project” is taking a much more interesting turn (with the next issue promising even bigger fireworks). The backup “Origin Of…” two-pagers by Mark Waid and various artists (which you can find on-line at the 52 website) are generally uninspiring and feel like a two page ad for the promotion of “Essential Storylines” (most conveniently collected in trade), but Brian Bolland drawing Zatanna? Yes please.
3 and a half out of 5 Vikings
Posted by Graig on November 3, 2006
(DC Comics)
The wait is *finally* over. Ok, wait, what’s going on here again? Oh right, little daemon/faery/bug things are trying to take over the planet, or destroy it, or something. Maybe? I really don’t recall. It’s been six months since the last Seven Soldiers title came out, how am I supposed to remember what’s gone on? I guess the right thing to do would be to re-read the seven mini-series plus prologue before cracking over the cover of this much delayed finale, but then bitching about it is so much easier.
But there’s only so much bitching I can do, because this is a terriffic read. From Morrison’s clever means of tying disparate threads together and his confusion-as-brilliance story structure (if you can call it that) to J.H. Williams III’s most ingenious and dextrous artistic skills (pens, inks and in some cases colors), this book wows and entertains even if it doesn’t make a lick of sense.
I’m being harsh still, because it actually does pay off the whole project rather nicely, but with fresh eyes long departed from the pages Morrison previously penned, it’s a bit of a hodge-podge which takes its time settling and gelling together. But the concepts and ideas that Morrison instigated in the preceding mini-series are refreshed via some very clever storytelling techniques. The Shining Knight’s Arthurian influence criscrosses with Mr. Miracle’s revamped New Gods as some historical tracks are laid (Williams uses a European/fantasy brush and color palette for the former and a heavy Kirby line for the latter), while his update on the Manhattan Guardian comes in the form of a tabloid newspaper layout (complete with sepia-toned “photographs”). The Bulleteer and Zatanna get tried-and-true heroics when they emerge, both drawn in William’s usual stellar technique with touches of Yannick Paquette and Ryan Sook (their respective mini-series artists) thrown into his mix. Frankenstein is balls-to-the-wall action, with Williams mimicing Doug Mahnke perfectly, while Klarion falls in line storybook style.
Everything begins to crosshatch as stories intesect in Manhattan with a full-on Sheeda onslaught. The Seven Soldiers take action although the exact details of the fight sequence are about as clear as the opening salvo Ridley Scott’s Gladiator. The book brings up questions which I’m sure a thorough sit-down and contemplation of the entire 30-issue Seven Soldiers project would help answer, as is typical of Morrison’s higher concept endeavors. Yet, even on its own, this works out really nicely even if only as a curiousity.
Final note: I still don’t understand how Mr. Miracle and the new New Gods actually factor into the entire equasion as even here it would seem that story is separate from the rest.
4 out of 5 Vikings.
(IDW)
