Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane Season 2 #1

Posted by Jeb on August 14, 2008

(Marvel)

I have to admit that I never read an issue of the first volume of this series. Much as I respect Sean McKeever’s work, the idea of a modern-day “Archie” with superhero trappings and lashings of anime stylings left me pretty cold: after all, I figured that Joss Whedon has pretty much “done” the modern high school experience for me already. But new writer Terry Moore is among the top writers of relationship comics working today, and coming on the heels of the brilliant Strangers in Paradise (as well as his more recent, and quite entertaining, Echo), I figured I had to give it a shot; and if it’s not the revelation I’d somehow hoped it might be, it’s certainly not bad.

Again, not having read the first series, I don’t know where that left off, but Moore seems to be doing a kind of “soft reboot” here: the characters are already established, and know each other, but this first issue re-introduces the familiar supporting cast from Spidey’s high school days, with a few “up-to-date” twists. And “date” raises kind of an interesting question: given that this is, so far as I know, more or less “in-continuity,” then it should take place a decade or so ago (Mephisto may have made everyone forget the Parker-Watson marriage, but he didn’t erase the elapsed time… oh god–nerd alert for even knowing that!), which may explain the “Rico Suave” reference. On the other hand, it feels very contemporary (text-messaging is far more a given here than it would have been ten years ago), and is clearly geared toward bringing in younger readers. My guess is that it’s another example of Marvel allowing continuity to exist as something flexible, designed to serve the needs of the story at hand, and not vice-versa.

At any rate, the story kicks off with a highly entertaining dream sequence (says the reader who generally hates such things), and moves us into a “typical” day at school for MJ, Peter, and the rest. As I indicated, a lot of time is spent re-setting the scene and cast for us newcomers, but Moore deftly moves from there into the darker side of MJ’s personal life (a carryover from the movies, I presume, though I haven’t really kept up on Spider-Man continuity for a couple of decades). And while I don’t know how much of this was established before Moore came onboard, it’s certainly nice to see a superhero-girlfriend-secret identity triangle that doesn’t play out with the familiar beats of the Superman-Lois-Clark relationship.

I remain disappointed that Moore’s not doing the art (I know he’s focusing on Echo, but I can dream, can’t I?), but Craig Rousseau makes the familiar teen-with-manga-flavoring style feel fresh, and if he’s not Moore’s equal with the subtleties of facial expression (and few are), he still manages to keep the storytelling expressive.

About the “storytelling,” though… so far, there’s not a lot. I can’t really complain–character details that Stan Lee would have tossed off in a panel are here given room to breathe and grow–but it does mean that, as with so many series today, judgement may be best reserved for the collected edition. On its own, the first issue’s more promising than satisfying, but Moore fans know just how well he can deliver on a promise.

3 and a half out of 5 Vikings

[Trade Winds] Re-Gifters

Posted by Graig on June 22, 2007

(Minx)

Most guys would be hesitant to admit it (if not adamant against admitting it), but “date movies” or “chick flicks” entertain us too. Granted most guys don’t chomp at the bit to go see The Devil Wears Prada, and if our girlfriend suggests going to see the latest Hugh Grant vehicle, we wonder why she wouldn’t rather see whatever Michael Bay has cooked up instead. But when we do sit down and watch Serendipity or Pretty In Pink, we do indeed hope for the couple to get together, we do cheer (silently) for the girl to get her innermost desire. Sure, we will complain about these films or act quite apathetic about it, but yes, secretly we enjoyed them.

The “man’s man” would like to keep feelings and emotions hidden, a gruff exterior their natural state of being, and to watch as story of the triumph of love or celebration of womanhood, and to actually get into it, well, it’s in some small way emasculating to many. Personally, I’ve never had a problem admitting that I like a lot of those kinds of movies. Some of the more conventional, trite or saccharine ones are indeed too much to bear, but the smarter or unexpected movies like Some Kind of Wonderful, Say Anything, and Amelie were highly and vocally enjoyed. Hell, even The Notebook tugged away at my repressed romantic strings. Don’t worry, though, Re-Gifters isn’t anything like The Notebook. In fact it’s more along the lines of classic John Hughes, a modern day Sixteen Candles, with teenagers acting all hyper-hormonal as teenagers do, obsessing over their crush like it’s the end of the world.

Here, it’s Dik Seong Jen (or Jen Dickson), a second generation Korean-American living in Los Angeles, where she goes to school and practices hapkido, the Korean martial art. Jen’s crush is Adam: tall, good looking, a hapkido black belt, and one of the rich and popular crowd, and while she may be a rival black belt, she’s also short, somewhat marginalized by her ethnicity and her spiky personality, and nowhere close close to being in with (nor really caring about) the popular crowd. The story surrounds her efforts to attract Adam’s attention, while losing her own focus on her hapkido training. When the national competition comes to the city, her role in the competition has repercussions on everything from her self-worth to her family’s financial well-being to her love life and her friendships. All the while, a certain present gets passed around loosely tied into the story by happenstance.

Reuniting the creative team of the underrated Vertigo mini-series My Faith In Frankie, Re-Gifters is written by Mike Carey with art by Sonny Liew and Marc Hempel. Like Frankie, Re-Gifters is surprising considering Carey’s 7-year run with Lucifer and his current work with nefarious Japanese spirits on Crossing Midnight and how brilliantly he can transition himself from the horrific, supernatural and twisted machinations of deities, to the emotionally comedic and dramatic foibles of a teenaged girl. While Sonny Liew’s work with Hempel here isn’t nearly as lavish or inspired as his SLG/Disney Wonderland work (this being in black and white, that being in color), it’s still wonderfully illustrated, with Liew’s characters and layouts playful and enticing, a bridge between American cartooning and Manga.

While the Minx line is tailored towards female young-adult, there’s really no shame for the average male comic book reader to pick this up either. Just sandwich it between a couple of your regular pulls, like you’d sandwich a copy of Never Been Kissed between Con Air and Red Dawn at the video store, and tell the person at cash that it’s for your girlfriend.

4 out of 5 Vikings

Strangers In Paradise #90 (series finale)

Posted by Jeb on June 9, 2007

(Abstract Studio)

How long has it been since you picked up an issue of Strangers in Paradise? Probably been a few years, I“m guessing. In my case, I stopped reading regularly some time back around issue #40 or so, and I don“t think I“ve read an individual issue since someplace in the low 60“s. Why? Same reason as you: it felt as though this marvelous series had been spinning its wheels. In fact, it“s felt that way for quite some time: any reader can see that “girl-next-door” Francine and “wild child” Katchoo belong together, but writer-artist Terry Moore has always refused to move them past such impediments as Katchoo“s dangerous past and Francine“s uncertainty about having feelings for another woman. And any time they get close, either misunderstandings or mobsters intervene, and we start all over again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

As the series finale approached, I borrowed some recent trade paperback collections with the intention of getting caught up, but I fell far enough behind that I figured the hell with it, I“d just see if I could follow the story in #90 armed only with my knowledge of the book“s first few years. It was a bittersweet discovery to find that I could.

Without getting into overt spoilers, I“ll just say that there is finally resolution (some of which Moore has previously shown us in “flash-forward” sequences over the years), and the few “surprises” proffered are far less surprising to us than they are to the characters in the story. While I understand the dictum that every issue of a comic is someone“s first, and that accessibility to new readers can be very important, it really shouldn“t be possible to drop a series for a few years and pick it up again without missing a beat: something ought to have changed in those years: particularly since, as is his wont, Moore offers no recap of “the story so far” for new readers. It“s one thing for a corporate trademark like Superman to go on for decades virtually unchanged, quite another for a creator-owned series to grow so static.

And I“m not sure if this has been the case for a while, but Moore“s art feels a bit sketchier than I“m used to seeing it, with all but the most essential details stripped out. Doesn“t make it any less expressive, but it does seem a bit odd when placed side by side with some of the earlier issues.

It may sound as though I“m being dismissive of the book, but I’m not really. You see, while Moore isn“t giving us anything in the way of storytelling that he hasn“t before, he still retains his two greatest gifts: a great ear for dialogue, and the ability to draw the most expressive faces in the business. The bulk of this issue has Francine and Katchoo simply sitting and talking with Tambi (Katchoo“s half-sister) and Casey (who“s been a romantic rival to half the characters in the series), and yet every panel feels fresh and alive. Subtle details of posture are also a Moore specialty, and you could read this book without word balloons and understand most of what“s going on. Smiles, frowns, gestures of tenderness, of reserve, of passion or compassion… Terry Moore never ceases to amaze and move us with these. The story“s conclusion may be sentimental, but it“s sentiment that“s been well-earned with every stroke of his pen. I“ve re-read it about a half dozen times already.

I can“t really say I“m sorry to see this series end—in my opinion, it more or less wrapped itself up years back, and closure was way past due—but I will miss these two women, and I“m grateful to have those early trade collections to re-read. Even if he didn“t find enough interesting things for them to do over the past few years, Terry Moore created two of the most memorable characters, of either gender, in the history of American comic books.  And their sendoff here, predictable though it might have been, is, in its own way, perfection.

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[Raided] Samurai: Volume II #1 - 3

Posted by Elgin on April 25, 2007

(Dark Horse)

This is not a look into another culture in another time, even though it is set in the early 18th Century. It is not a study of the mores and standards imbued in Bushido or Spanish Catholicism even though it is the story of a Samurai seeking his life’s love who was stolen by a Spanish slave trader. What it is, is the equivalent of a television mini-series aimed the housewife who has run out of three inch thick romance novels. The artwork is a little overslick and the coloring not quite right. But like the chick flick your significant other forces you to watch on a Friday night, you find yourself sucked into it despite yourself. They would not be the must have items of the month when future issues come out, but if you read the first three, you will have to read whatever comes after.

3 and a half out of 5 Vikings

Raided: Nightwing Annual #2

Posted by Graig on April 22, 2007

(DC)

Wow. After a mediocre run by Devin Grayson, a horrendous crack at bat by Bruce Jones and Marv Wolfman’s currently tragic endeavor, I was beginning to think that perhaps Nightwing should have been killed off in Infinite Crisis. But it was that near-death experience in IC that is the catalyst for this stand-alone story, and for the first time in over a year, Dick Grayson is proving himself a compelling, charming and, yes, unique character in the DC Universe. Writer Marc Andreyko takes a shattered Nightwing and, with the help of former Batgirl, Barbara Gordon, rebuilds him. The book is the exact kind of story which should appear in a tried and true Annual, self-contained but also piecing together a missing bit of continuity and, as in all best case scenarios, adding something new to the character. Andreyko uses the situation to track Babs and Dick’s relationship over the years, from their early days as Robin and Batgirl to Barbara’s paralysis at the Joker’s hands to Dick’s near-marriage to Starfire. Everything that happens in this story is, in many respecs, a ret-con, or a tight fit into continuity, but what results is something that’s entertaining, humorous, endearing, romantic and even, at times, shocking. Not far removed for soap-operatic, and yet utterly engaging, Andreyko proves with this story that he understands the character’s past, and makes a solid case for being the man to take him forward. And if DC listens, how about taking art team Joe Bennett (whose work here is miles better than his 52 efforts) and Jack Jadsen along for the ride? A surprisingly good read.

3 and a half out of 5 Vikings

Army@Love #1

Posted by Jeb on March 26, 2007

(Vertigo)

It“s the “@” that gives it away.

Some reviewers of Rick Veitch“s new series, Army@Love have taken it to task for not being this generation“s “M*A*S*H*”: an anti-establishment view of an unpopular war, with its protagonists the only heroically “sane” people in the asylum. And, no question, Veitch makes it clear in his afterword that he“s driven to create this book by the war in Iraq. But that doesn“t mean that he“s required to come up with a new “Catch-22” or “Dr. Strangelove”: his vision here is more akin to a wildly perverse version of a wartime soap opera like “The Best Years of Our Lives”, or “Winds of War”, filtered through the entertainment-obsessed lens of 21st century online pop culture. This isn“t “us” (sensitive, liberal, humanist) against “them” (The Establishment): to Veitch, we“re no saner for enduring the war at home than the soldiers at the front are for being there in the first place. Picture the bastard child of Sergeant Rock, Our Love Story, and American Flagg, and you“ll be somewhere in the vicinity. “@ Love”, indeed.

As the story opens, there“s action both on the front lines and on the home front. We“re five years in the future, and the war in Afbaghistan (ahem) continues unabated. It“s become such a pop cultural event that the notion of it ever ending seems hardly to be entertained at all: it“s water-cooler entertainment now. Soldiers couple under fire while faithful spouses succumb to temptation at home: this time, though, Veitch not only plays with the gender roles (the husband left behind while his wife goes to war), but throws in such bizarre 21st-century touches as cellphone calls that relate horror and lust across a hemisphere in real time. Combat decisions are driven by focus groups and marketing concerns, and if it seems insane to imagine a “Hot Zone Club” (soldiers made horny under fire doing what comes natch“erly), it“s not significantly less sane than many of the horror stories that come back to us from the front lines. As satire, it might not be subtle, but the book“s strength is that the satire is bolstered by a fundamentally sound story of greed and desperation underneath.

I won“t spoil the specifics of the storyline: like any good soap opera, Veitch has a rich cast of characters, most with their own dark sides and selfish agendas, and in this first issue he sets the groundwork for a storyline of death, deceit, double-dealing… and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

That“s my only real caveat about the book: the sex scenes are very much in-your-face, but that“s part of the point, and while it may interfere with some readers“ enjoyment, I can“t say that they“re gratuitous. I don“t think I“ve seen much of Veitch“s art since Maximortal, but even so, the artwork here seems several large steps beyond that in terms of focus and consistency. He still has that Steve Dillon-like ability to suggest something sour and rotten in even the most innocent face, but you“d be hard pressed to imagine it put to better use.

While I“m not sure Veitch“s perspective on our 21st century pop-culture obsession has all that much interesting or unique,about it, he layers it on top of a highly readable story.

3 and a half out of 5 Vikings

A Late Freeze

Posted by Graig on March 18, 2007

(Danica Novgorodoff)

There was a commercial called “Robot” that premiered during the Superbowl featuring an anthropomorphic robot arm that is let go from a General Motors factory after dropping a bolt. The commercial trails this robot arm through it’s sad existence through different jobs, watching GM cars go by, and inevitably it turns to jumping off a bridge (although current iterations have that part edited out) only to have the robot wake up from his nightmare before impact, with the kicker being GM’s quality obsession slogan. This of course recalls the brilliant Spike Jonze-directed Ikea “Lamp” commercial, in which a lamp is removed from an apartment, put on the curbside with the trash when it begins to rain, the camera showing a profile shot of the lamp with the apartment in the background being lit by a new lamp, pathos-inducing music somberly playing in the background. A man, drenched by the rain stops and stares into the camera, uttering with his Dutch accent, “Many of you feel bad for this lamp, that is because you’re crazy. It has no feelings, and the new one is much better.”

Both of these sad-yet-whimsical commercials (both effective manipulations of the viewer via in part by music but mostly via direction) came to mind when I read Danica Novgorodoff’s Alternative Press Expo Award Winning story A Late Freeze. Much in the same vein Novgorodoff injects both whimsy and pathos into her bizarre tale about a romance between a factory robot and a bear. As a result of the late winter the bear, now pregnant with bear-robot hybrid offspring sets out in search of food, instead finding a stuffed frog in need of rescue. Throughout this (mostly) silent tale, the absurd joy of the cast and subject are tempered with the situations and hardships they find themselves in, as they are evicted from their cave by land developers and on the run from agents looking to retrieve the escaped robot.

It’s nonsense, but it’s beautiful, bittersweet nonsense. Novgorodoff’s story is complimented, nay, enhanced by her clean and vividly imagined illustrations, a color pallet that reflects both delicate darkness and surreal beauty. If there’s a theme, it’s the merging of the wilderness with technical civilization, and the the art negotiates it perfectly, Novgorodoff’s middle-page spread showing a valley on one side, urban sprawl on the other, intersected by trees and telephone poles, a bird flying east, a plane west, the battle between the two appearing even but the threat of the cranes and cars and garbage looms heavy. The romance itself bridges nature and the unnatural, the robot escaping from a factory for the forest, then later, in turnabout, the bear working a factory. The stuffed frog and the offspring different reflections this same struggle for a coexistent society and natural world, and most panels bear some reflection of the theme (a stream littered with garbage, a Humvee tearing past a wagon train, snow burying a Super 8).

A Late Freeze isn’t exactly uplifting, but at the same time it’s not bleak. There’s an undercurrent of detached delight in the conceit of a robot romancing a bear, and, like both the “Robot” and “Lamp” commercials (and any number of children’s stories), there’s something enjoyable merely by personifying inhuman things. A refreshing and fantastical work.

4 and a half out of 5 Vikings

Daredevil #94

Posted by Jeb on March 6, 2007

(Marvel Comics)

While there has been nearly universal praise for Ed Brubaker“s first year as the writer of Daredevil, it“s interesting to note the differences between the various groups singing his praises.

Some were huge fans of Brian Bendis“ run on the book, regarding it as one of the character“s high points, and they“re pleased to see that Brubaker took the handoff from Bendis smoothly, and continued to play with his predecessor“s strengths, while bringing his own (generally more action-oriented) touch to the book.

There“s also a vocal minority that regarded Bendis“ time on Daredevil as the book“s nadir, and they are even more thankful to Brubaker for coming along and rescuing the character from his bald nemesis.

It will be interesting to see how this current issue plays with both of these groups, because this one“s gonna be a real love/hate thing. In a lot of ways, this is the most Bendis-like book I“ve ever read from Brubaker: nothing actually happens.

WAIT! There is more to read… read on »

Local #8

Posted by Graig on February 25, 2007

(Oni Press)

I like Local for many reasons. It’s a book about people and places, utilizing the bridging ground between real life and melodrama, sometimes staying on one side or the other, and sometimes racing in-between. It’s also a book about ideas, ideas about comics, their storytelling capabilities and possibilities. It tests the medium and a reader’s willingness to accept its interpretation of what a series/mini-series is. It’s also a book about comics creation, about the writer and the artist, as every month Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly provide an essay on what went into the making of the story, the thought processes behind it, the music that accompanies it, the drafts of covers, and the photographs referenced.

The original intent for Local was a complete issue per story, each centering around a unique place, or neighborhood, also different every issue. Megan was to be our guide each issue, but a rough guide, not the centerpiece. Sometimes the story would follow her directly, sometimes she would be a peripheral character, and sometimes she would be present at best in spirit. With issue 8, Wood concedes that Megan has taken over the series, and that Local is about her journey, each issue a distinct moment in one year of Megan’s life. While last issue was about Megan’s cousin, with Megan appearing only via postcards, it’s apparent that the final five issues are going to provide a stronger, more uniform arc to the character and the series.

Wood’s predecessor to Local was Demo, a series which equally had began with a unique vision and organically transformed into something all its own. His failing to stick to plan with Demo seemed to launch the idea for Local, but cudos to Wood for allowing the series to go where it naturally feels it should, rather than forcing himself to stick with the model he originally devised. There’s artistic merit to either decision, but the one he chose will invariably produce a more satisfying read.

This issue, however, is not a strong one, not fully anyway. If you’ve seen the film or read the novella, I’m sure you caught it just as I did. Issue 8 of Local is Shopgirl. I’m not making any insinuations, as an artist channels often unconsciously outside influences, and occasionally artists create similar works completely isolated from one another’s influences, but I won’t be the only one to see the very same themes of Shopgirl in this issue. It’s a stripped down and thinned out version of Steve Martin’s examinations of three emotionally stunted individuals, one an older successful man, another an unmotivated unsuccessful twenty-something, and a lost and alone 20-something woman being courted by both. Here in Local it’s just about Megan, but it hits the same notes of the charming, sophisticated and perpetually lone older man, and his directionless adversary for the conflicted woman’s affections. It does completely fit within the realm of Megan’s character as we know her to be, but you just can’t shake the familiarity of it. (I had a similar issue with the first issues homage to Run, Lola, Run).

Wood is a damn fine writer, and the larger scale of project and experiment, adaptation and growth of Local far outweighs the finer points of niggling over common ground covered elsewhere. Ryan Kelly, adapting his artwork to fit the tone of each issue, achieves breakthroughs in graphic illustration every time he pushes himself. It’s a fascinating endeavor, even if the stories can’t always hold up to expectations.

3 and a half out of 5 Vikings