Friday, October 2, 2009

yup.

Runaways #14 is as horrible as I thought it would be.

- RD

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Dark Avengers #9

Ares* is one of Norman Osborn's Dark Avengers. His 10-year-old son Phobos** is in superspy training with Nick Fury's Secret Warriors, unbeknownst to his father until now. In Dark Avengers #9 (Brian Michael Bendis), Ares finally follows his son to the Warriors' base, and has the confrontation with Fury that readers have been waiting for ever since the Secret Warriors were introduced in the pages of Bendis' Mighty Avengers.

Except there's no fight. The fetching cover at the top of this post is just a cover. After bashing his way through the base defenses and b*tch-slapping another of the Warriors, Ares engages Fury in a remarkably level-headed discussion. He asks the spymaster what the Warriors have been up to, what Fury has been doing with his son. Fury explains. Ares the God stands there, head hung low, actually ashamed - a powerful image, and clearly one that resonates with his big-eyed son.

Ares admits that he doesn't really know how to be a dad - it turns out Zeus wasn't such a hot role model - and doesn't know how to help his son deal with and make use of his emerging powers. And so long as Phobos is happy with the Warriors, Ares gives Fury his blessing to train the boy (while of course promising vengeance should any harm come to his son).

It's a wonderfully unexpected done-in-one tale. Who'd'a thunk Ares would worry about being a good father? Bendis makes it work, reminding us that sometimes admitting his weakness is the strongest thing a father can do.

- JC

* The Greek God of War.

** The Greek God of Fear, though I don't believe it's yet been established if he's an ancient deity in a 10-year-old's body, or a 10-year-old-child with the same powers as some older or purely mythical Phobos. He mostly acts like a kid.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Marvel vs. the Reset Button

RD and I spent a couple of hours yesterday debating Decimation, Exodus, and their effects on the social metaphors at the heart of the X-Men. (See our previous two posts for details.) The process has brought into sharp relief concerns I've had for a while now regarding the direction of Marvel's two biggest franchises, the X-Men and Spider-Man, under Joe Quesada's editorship.

The direction in question being bass-ackwards.

On the X-Men & the Mutant Decimation

After those last couple of posts, I looked up precisely what Quesada and his writers had said in interviews about Decimation: why the decision had been made to reduce the number of mutants in the world to a mere 200 or so, and what it meant for Marvel storytelling. I found this 2005 conference call with Quesada and Ed Brubaker, one of the X-Men writers at the time.

Brubaker says that, "the Marvel universe will look more like it did in the 1960’s, where there weren’t mutants around every corner. Readers will see in this story that the government will once again begin to change the way they look at mutants." And a little further on, Quesada is apparently directly quoted as wanting to "put the genie back in the bottle" for Marvel's mutants. "He says they’re trying to make their stories matter more by cutting down on mutants, adding that the thing that makes mutants appealing is that they are a minority, and fans can often relate to that aspect."

Unfortunately for Joe Quesada, mutants are not genies. They're toothpaste, and trying to force them back in the tube is never going to work.

Decimation fails on a metaphorical level because Marvel overdid it - 200 mutants in the world are no longer a minority, they're a statistical insignificance. An endangered species and a minority culture are two entirely different things. More importantly, resetting mutant relations to the 1960s goes against everything the Marvel universe is supposed to stand for. Unlike DC, Marvel has always been about reflecting our own world. Heroes and villains duke it out in New York and San Francisco (even Cleveland sometimes!), not Metropolis or Gotham. Relationships between minorities (virtually all minorities, whether based on race, religion, orientation or whatever) and the mainstream have dramatically changed in the last 40 years. Readers identified with a smaller mutant populace in the 60s, in a time when minority populations were smaller in our world as well, and less open about their difference. Not so today. You can't just shove the mutants back into the closet.

Yet for sheer storytelling purposes, Decimation fails for the opposite reason. They under-did it. If the argument is that the X-Men books have too many characters for readers to follow and care about, then why didn't the Decimation depower or drive off stage more actual X-Men? It's like a TV executive saying that a show's ensemble cast is too large, then firing all the non-speaking extras.

Of course, I'd argue killing or depowering surplus X-Men is a mistake anyway. Every character in the franchise is someone's favorite, however strange, gross, or Rob-Liefeld-influenced. I happen to be a Maggot fan. A cast like this are toys in a toybox - if a writer doesn't like some of 'em, or a lot of them even, they can do what Joss Whedon did. Pick a small, manageable team, tell stories about them alone, and ignore the rest.

On the Erasure of Spider-Man's Marriage

When Marvel finally magicked away Spider-Man's marriage at the end of 2007, I was saddened but not really surprised. Quesada, had been arguing for this outcome for years, not just behind the scenes but also with the fans in the message board trenches. He insisted that marriage had turned Peter Parker into an old man, desperately uncool. I thought this was utterly ridiculous. A married Peter, a single Peter, surely they weren't so different? It wasn't until Quesada had implemented his "Brand New Day" that I realized he'd actually had a point.

The single Spidey of BND and beyond feels like a college student again. He's living paycheck to paycheck, constantly wondering where his life is heading (besides full-speed towards a man wearing a fishbowl on his head). He's in a constant state of free fall. The 1987-2007 married Spidey often lived paycheck to paycheck, changed careers a couple of times, and rarely knew where he was headed either (besides full-speed towards a man with a robotic scorpion's tail protruding from his posterior), but at the same time he had a sense of stability. His wife was a source of strength, and a constant variable in the mathematics of responsibility that Peter spends so much of his mental energy deliberating.

Now the marriage never happened. The entire Spidey ballgame has been changed, and in ways more complex than a simple breakup.Amazing Spider-Man writer Dan Slott, in a reply to a previous post on this blog, argued that the retcon changed very little about Peter & MJ's past: "in the current run of ASM, Pete and MJ still had a life together and all of those past stories still happened (though they happened as a 'committed couple living together' and not 'a married couple living together')."

But there is a difference between a couple in a committed partnership and a married husband and wife, or pair of wives, or husbands. You can debate the philosophical and religious significance of marriage - whether it's "just words," whether it truly changes anything about the way we live and love each other - but clearly it means something to a whole lot of human beings, or else we wouldn't be fighting so stringently these days over its definition and eligible parties.

What's more, it clearly means something to the writers and editors at Marvel as well, or they wouldn't have to use the devil and a sweeping retcon to end Spider-Man's marriage. If marriage wasn't that big a deal, a superhero divorce wouldn't be either.

And for the readers, there's a cost beyond that stability in Peter's life, that little bit of hard-won happiness after all his tragedies. Stan Lee took Peter Parker through high school and to college. His successors allowed Peter to graduate, get married, and even try to start a family. Now he seems stuck in amber, a swinging single unlucky-in-love 20-something forever more. After watching Marvel set Peter's emotional clock back 10 years, how can we expect him to ever move forward again?

When I read Amazing Spider-Man today, it doesn't feel like an ongoing chronicle of one man's epic life. With its star no longer allowed to grow and change, it feels like a series of episodic adventures, no matter how smoothly one blends into the next. It feels more like a great Spider-Man animated series (or DC comic) than a flagship Spider-Man book.

In trying to bring Marvel's two biggest franchises back to basics, Joe Quesada hobbled them. He undermined the spirit of evolution that has made readers love and relate to them for years. Our lives, our politics, our relationships, and our communities move on with time. Stan Lee's original brilliance in developing the Marvel Universe was in giving us comic heroes that grew with us.

I'd like them back, please, Joe.

- JC

[What he said. - RD]

Sunday, September 20, 2009

a post that requires a new joe quesada tag

I do not read any comics with X-Men in the title. I have not read House of M, any of the Decimation stories, anything by Grant Morrison, or Matt Fraction's latest offering, Dark Avengers/Uncanny X-Men: The Exodus, which JC just reviewed. I like Matt Fraction. I don't blame him in the slightest for doing the best he could with the X-dross that he has been given by years of mismanagement. I blame Joe Quesada. However, this concept of putting the remaining 200 mutants on an island is either the worse metaphor in history or just a really stupid plot development.

JC says the mutants have been talking about their culture since before House of M, and it's been seen as a metaphor for any "minority" (usually gay but sometimes any generic non-privileged) "culture" (that is, the stereotypical behaviors or markers collectively identified by the privileged [or, more accurately, the media] and used when talking about/reporting on the minority in question). (To save time and abuse of quotation marks, I'm going to use the term "gay pride" for people who have chosen to identify themselves and act in ways that have become stereotypical. This is in contrast to those who are gay but not connected to or identified with the stereotypical subculture. No offense is intended.)

The difference, you stupid bastards, is that gay pride is a chosen way of life. Being a mutant is a quirk of genetics. There is nothing connecting mutants to each other any more than bald people are connected to each other. They may have support groups and wear T-shirts with funny bald jokes on them, but there is no inherent bald culture. There is no inherent gay culture. There is no inherent mutant culture. While I appreciate the dramatic uses of the competing ideologies (let's call it Magneto v. Xavier), no writer should ever have tried to create mutant pride as an exclusionary concept (i.e. Xavier's kids using Magneto's separatist doctrine). The concept of mutant culture is particularly ridiculous in a world where not everyone with extra-human abilities is a mutant.

And then came the de-powering of the mutants, leaving only 200 people (in the world? in the country? wtf?) with powers due to mutant genes. And then they began to be persecuted MORE. Again, not having read the books, I just can't understand how this is a logical storyline. With only 200 (give or take) people in question, they could all be rounded up by secret police in the middle of the night. The teams of really strong superheroes fight back against the secret police, at which point the secret police are like, "Okay, just don't go in there." The Powers That Be battle the mutants in private and turn public opinion against them. They don't use their political power and write laws that affect only 200 people. That's just idiotic.

And now, apparently, the mutants are so persecuted that they have decided to go and live on an island. I get that, sort of; they've been written into a corner and the Dork Avengers are not letting up anytime soon. To spare their allies the pain of guilt by association, they separate themselves entirely and plan to do their world-saving with a little extra travel time. JC lauded this as a chance to build that mutant culture they've been talking about since 2001. It's still pretty stupid; you can't tell me that you wouldn't be safer underground or in a series of secret bases than on an island where you could all be taken out by one well timed bomb.

But either way, 200 people isn't a culture, it's a commune. A group of people who have nothing more in common than the fact that they're been persecuted by the rest of the (country? world? after this many decades with X-teams saving people's asses, how is public opinion really anti-mutant?) are not a community. They haven't chosen to be together because of their common values, opinions, behaviors, or landscaping. They have been exiled to the island, a sort of Survivor in reverse, which does not a community make. The characters are following the story to it's logical conclusion, but it has no basis in the new themes of culture and community.

If this is meant to be a continuation of the gay pride parallel, it's the shittiest, most exclusionary treatment I've ever seen. No federal protections for gay employees? Go live on an island! Not allowed to marry your partner? Get married on the island! Having trouble adopting? Next stop, the island! F*%$ that s@&!, man. Just f*%$ it.

JC wondered if perhaps this was meant to be a reference to the founding of Israel after World War II. The difference there, of course, is that the Jews did have a common culture, obviously, and while they were being offered/commanded to live in this place, they could build on their extended families and strong religious beliefs to build their new life. The mutants, like the bald, have nothing in common beyond their DNA.

I don't plan to read how Fraction treats the x-commune (although if they turn out to be the Others, I will personally apologize for everything bad I ever said about Joe Quesada), but I'm sure JC and those like him who do read Uncanny X-Men are hoping for strong characterization and good dramatic arcs to make up for the utter absurdity of the past several years. It's about time.

- RD

Dark Avengers/Uncanny X-Men: Exodus

The Dark Avengers/Uncanny X-Men: Exodus one-shot (Matt Fraction) establishes yet another new status quo for Marvel's x-tended mutant family, and it might just bring the X-Men's mission statement back into focus in the process.

For years, the X-Men fought to make the world recognize that no matter if you're black, white, blue, have gills, or shoot lasers from your eyes, we're all just people. It was Magneto who tried to divide "homo superior" from the "flatscans," until Grant Morrison's team in
New X-Men started using that derogatory term as well, and teaching their students that mutants don't act or think or learn like humans.

Say what?

I get the intended metaphor about cultural/orientation pride, that in the modern age we need not assimilate and act like the majority so that our voices can be heard. The problem is, it doesn't work for the X-Men. There are subsets of mutants who have shared common experiences and developed their own unique cultural identities: Xavier alumni, Morlocks, the Brotherhood, etc. But outside of a small handful of telepaths, why should mutants think or learn differently from anyone else?

The X-Men's core metaphor seemed even more muddled in the Decimation that followed
House of M, as the mutant population was severely reduced and rebranded as "endangered."* Aside from a few genetic markers, how are mutants a species? What is the "mutant culture" that they fear is now doomed to die out? With all this focus on survival, a series that had been a provocative exploration of issues of race and identity suddenly and strangely seemed to be more about life in our uncertain age of global terror. Not an unworthy metaphor in its own right, but I wasn't sure it had much to do with the X-Men.

Yet Matt Fraction may just be pulling it all together again. In the wake of proposed anti-mutant legislation, riots, and the imposition of martial law in their city by Norman Osborn, Cyclops has officially divorced the X-Men from the United States altogether. He's established a new mutant sanctuary on an island off the coast of California and issued a statement of intent to the world: here the X-Men will stay, with any and all mutants and their families who will join them.

"We have been, and always shall be, sworn to protect a world that hates and fears us. Only now... we shall all be free."

The idea of an emancipated mutant homeland is not quite new; in the late '90s, Magneto bullied the world into allowing him to run Genosha as his own mutant kingdom. And of course Norman Osborn immediately tries to paint Cyclops' new "Utopia" in the same light, as a militant state of crazy people. But this isn't a former terrorist running a mutant dictatorship, it's the X-Men, trying to save the world like they've always done without any government legislation or angry mob around this time to interfere with how they live at home and off duty.

The idea of the X-Men and their fellow mutants building a new nation seems far more in keeping with the series' base metaphor than the "there are only a few of us left, we can't make powered babies no more, and crazies want to kill us all off" schtick of the last few years. (It's
Star Trek IV, and the X-Men are the whales?) Can one small band simultaneously serve as superheroes and Founding Parents? It's going to be fascinating to find out. And in the process, the X-Men might just be inventing that distinct mutant culture they've been so emo about saving from extinction ever since the Decimation.

The sequencing's a little off, sure, but I'm willing to forgive that.

- JC

*Let's not even talk about the fact that Joe Quesada supposedly encouraged the decimation because there were too many mutant characters in the Marvel U, yet only a small fraction of the dozens of current and former X-Men actually lost their powers. And a few of those joined new teams anyway. Huzzawah?

Saturday, September 12, 2009

a thousand times argh

I honestly wasn't going to do this, and then I put some meringues in the oven and had an hour to kill. So let's discuss the utter soul-destroying travesty that is Buffy Season 8 #28.

Andrew Hosts Masterpiece Theatre is derivative but still funny. My personal favorite was the broken heart visual aid, which made me go, "Aww!" in two different ways. The Faith/Buffy (I wish. Hee! Sorry) scene is very true to them both and says a lot about how far they've come, even since they moved from the screen to the page. Daddy!Oz is cute and inspirational, and I really liked his pep talk to Willow. The drug analogy got a little heavy-handed in the show, and I appreciate that they've backed off of that but can still play it as a convincing addiction.

I don't think anyone ever really thought Willow had anything to do with Twilight, even after the bit with Evil!Future!Willow, so the main plot of the story fell pretty flat. The lack of action made this feel more like fanfic than an episode of the show, which is disappointing after so many strong issues. And I love you, Georges, but I have to agree that the art is a bit *cough* sketchy.

And then. I mean. What the good goddamn was Jane Espenson THINKING?

The whole reason we love Joss is that his characters are real. Emotions take time to build, people make stupid decisions, they have variously logical and irrational leaps of mental health and stability, just like real, flawed, stupid, beautiful people. And above all, they don't fall in love instantly.

You can tell me all you want that they've been heading toward this, the tension and hints of whateverthehell angst and UST and blahblahblahvaguelyincestuouscakes. I totes didn't see it, though JC assures me the signs were there. But seriously? Think about Xander. His first girlfriend, a demon magnet, fell on a spike, and ow. His second girlfriend, an actual demon, was only just warming up to him again after he left her at the altar (for completely understandable and valid reasons, but that's an entirely different post about his issues) when she was killed in battle. His most recent girlfriend was also killed in battle, quite recently, in fact. What the heck - excuse me - what the FUCK about his dating history means that he's going to think it's okay to get involved AGAIN with a girl he has more than once made clear is like a sister to him? Mooning over Buffy? It's a little season 1, but she's proven to be near immortal, so of course he'd think she's safe. Macking on Dawn? Not in the least bit appropriate or reasonable. It's just not Xander, and it made me lose all faith in Jane Espenson.

Sure, it's somewhat believable for Dawn to cherish the remnants of her childish crush on Xander. It might even be expected that as she grows to adulthood, she would be able to mention it, to joke about it, and then to ignore and disregard it, because unless you're Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise, that sort of thing just doesn't look good. (It doesn't look good on them, either, but they're rich and kookoopants so there's nothing we can do.) But it's too simplistic. It's a cop-out, an easy way to create more drama for the overall story arc. It turns the bad-ass Dawn we've come to love back into that whiny little brat who got in trouble once a week and wrote melodramatic diary entries. I mean yeah, we all did that, and then we turned 16 and got over ourselves. Dawn did too, and responsibility looked good on her. And now she's the little kid putting on Lip Smackers to impress her sister's cute guy friend, and he's the creep who is letting her.

I'm not really fussy about the age difference (what, five years? I've beat that by a factor of four) or even the fact that Xander is starting to look like the town bike. The kiss just isn't in character, and it ruins my whole feeling about this book. To be fair, I was mightily pissed when Dawn first showed up in season 5, so I'm going to keep reading and hope I'm proven wrong.

Plus, my damn meringues didn't set up. Too many pecans.

- RD

Edit: JC informed me that the plots are approved if not written by Joss himself, so of course I shouldn't put the blame entirely on Jane. The way I see it, if your name is next to the words "Written by," you are responsible for something this craptastic. I did say I'll keep reading; I've seen many a character arc work itself out in an unexpected way (Cordelia, Wesley, Dawn herself), so I'm fully prepared to recant my initial reaction. But I'm going to need a darn good reason.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Agents of Atlas #10

Agents of Atlas #10 (Jeff Parker) took me longer to read than any other comic this month, and I loved it.

We've got goddesses with copyright complaints, an examination of the last 80 years in Killer Robot development, the rights of workers in evil empires, a history of men and dragons as enemies and allies, and a man trying to cope with the fact that the girlfriend he saw just last year (from his out-of-time perspective) has actually had a half-century to get her evil on.

By virtue of its
wacky cast, Atlas has never been like any other Marvel book, but these days that uniqueness is extending to format as well. The latest issue is divided into chapters, each new scene arriving with its own title heading. It's also quite dialogue-heavy, with 2-3 times more words per page than your typical comic. Yet not a word goes to waste, as various characters and subplots are developed, laying the groundwork for future storylines even as they advance the current "Terror of the Jade Claw" arc.

It's a little more demanding read than most comics, and maybe that's not to everyone's taste. Word on the street (and by the street I mean the interwebs) is the Agents are
swimming in the low-selling/critically-acclaimed end of the Marvel pool these days. Perhaps their upcoming throwdown with the X-Men or their shiny-new-extra-filled-Dark-Reign-tie-in hardcover will help inspire new readers to give Atlas a chance and see the incredible story-value they're getting for their bucks. I dunno.

What I do know is that month by month, Parker is creating a whole new world and fitting it seamlessly into the nooks and crannies of the Marvel we know. I'll gladly devote some extra reading time to these Agents for many, many moons to come.

- JC

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

should we call it Marvney? or Disnel?

No one knows just how the Marvel-Disney merger (we're calling it that rather than "assimilation") will change our beloved comics, but we've got a few guesses. Here are the top ten:

10. Tony Stark reveals to Jack Sparrow where all the rum has gone.

9. MAX unveils Who Punished Roger Rabbit?, a charming buddy comedy in which Frank Castle's new partner teaches him to kill 'em with kindness.

8. Casual Friday introduced to Marvel bullpen so the editors can leave off the mouse ears once a week.

7. Scrooge McDuck goes swimming in Norman Osborn's money.

6. The official battle cry becomes, "A-V-E-N-G-E-R-S A-S-S-E-M-B-L-E."

5. Spokespeople deny rumors that Stan Lee has been cryogenically frozen. Mr. Lee is unavailable for comment.

4. New animatronic children in the "It's a Small World After All" feature fur, steel skin, and telekinesis.

3. Rictor and Shatterstar are introduced to Exodus International.

2. Tobey Maguire is replaced with Zac Efron in Spider-Man 4. Critics rave.

1. Wolverine becomes a member of Goof Troop, Chip 'n Dale's Rescue Rangers, and the Disney Princesses

- JC & RD

[Yes, we know Sony still owns the rights to Spider-Man, but we like Zac Efron. Shutup. - RD]
[JC adds, "Tell them he was in Firefly!" - RD]

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

for the record

EDIT - JC is a dork. He said it came out today, and I believed him. Let's pretend I wrote this on Sept. 22 instead, mkay? Thx. - RD

Runaways #14 comes out tomorrow, and I don't think I've looked forward to a comic this much since-- ever, actually. I don't usually pay attention to when comics are released. But it's my turn to lambaste Immonen and Pichelli for their continually wretched work on this once-great book, so I wanted to make a few predictions.


1. Someone will say something both entirely out of character and pointless. It will probably also be misleading, confusing, and possibly factually incorrect. The most likely candidate is Chase, discussing his parents or uncle. If Chase is completely glossed over, it will be Nico, angsting about something she probably already worked out back in, oh, Volume 1.


2. Klara will show no signs of a personality, nor will anyone discuss how she is feeling after having a beloved team pet die on her.


3. Nico and/or Karolina will not only still be wearing their ridiculous outfits, but they will stand in unnaturally and uncomfortably revealing poses.


4. Victor will be entirely ignored. Molly will have a few cute lines but ultimately be ignored as well.


5. Hunter Stein will either be a) not who he says he is, b) a deus ex douchebag who offers to solve all of the Runaways' problems, c) killed stupidly, or d) all of the above.


6. There will be precisely one amusing joke and four or five jokes that either don't make sense or just aren't funny.


7. The ending will be stupid.

And the more I think about it, the sadder these things make me. I recently read a few Official Comic Website reviews of this run, and I was so disappointed to see the reviewer praising some of the exact things JC and I have criticized. The guy said that he was glad to see the book "back on track" and implied that the writers since BKV have been lacking. (He also contradicts himself when discussing Pichelli's art, saying in the #12 review that Nico "seems to have swallowed some sort of Amazon growth hormone" but then mentions in #13 that "Nico and Karolina were a bit too masculine in their portrayals" in earlier issues. What?)

On reading those reviews, I nearly signed up for a profile on IGN.com just to tell the reviewer and everyone reading just how very WRONG he is, and then I remembered I'm only the 1/2 comic fan and commenting on a board might push me up to .65 which we'd have to round up and "Two Comic Fans" just isn't a catchy title. But then I thought a little harder about what this book means to me, what the kids mean and how they SHOULD be characterized. I tried to see the Immochelli run with the excitement I had for BKV, or even Joss (who I dig) or the zombie arc (which was weak but coherent and entertaining). And I just couldn't. As much as I want to like and praise this creative team, this team of women working with such rich characters, I can't see where they're coming from. What am I missing?

- RD

Friday, August 28, 2009

Runaways #13

Welcome to another exciting episode of Just How Badly Can They Screw Up RD's Favorite Comic?

With Runaways #13, Kathryn Immonen continues to bury some clever ideas under mounds of muddled dialogue and weak [and in some cases, conflicting - RD] characterization. Low points include:

1. Nico's spells: The witty phraseology of Nico's magic has long been a highlight of this series. Here, she casts three spells, and two of them were utterly wasted. "Crystal Light" made Klara's plants vanish, along with the debris of the house, but how? I didn't have the first clue what it was supposed to mean or accomplish. [All that came to mind was the nasty diet drink that comes in a powder that you add to your water so you can pretend you're being healthy when actually you're drinking cancer juice, but what does that have to do with mutant vines? - RD] "Mood ring" turned a cut on Hunter Stein's cheek into a lie detector (I think?), yet we never actually see Nico use that to test the man (more on that in a second). Kudos on "Abraham Lincoln" to create an instant log-cabin, though. THAT was good.

2. Klara: Remember how she was actually getting some page-time in the last two issues, even if most of that was a dubiously justified freak-out? Well, despite all the trouble she's caused, she gets exactly zero lines of dialogue here, and only one panel of any significance. She's calmed down, without any explanation. Apparently all it took was a sammich and a juice box. Oh kids, such simple creatures, no matter what century they're from.

[THIS was one of my biggest problems. Klara's freakout was such a huge deal in the first issue of this storyline - I thought FOR SURE we would get some major characterization and possibly some post-traumatic counseling for the poor girl. Turns out it was a momentary dramatic lapse in sanity and Karolina has taken care of it (because even with Nico back in take-charge mode, something as deep as an emotional breakdown is Just! Too! Much! for the "leader" to deal with, OMG don't even get me started on the utter shite Immonnen is doing to Nico's characterization and how badly I wanted to PUNCH HER FACE when she... okay, I'll stop). - RD]

3. Hunter Stein: So Chase is sure he accidentally killed his uncle, and insists the Runaways can't trust the man claiming to be Hunter Stein. Fine. So why doesn't anyone bother to follow this up, to ask Hunter point-blank about his "death"? Wouldn't that be the first thing you'd do in this situation? Instead, the Runaways ignore him - endangering themselves in the process - until they can put him to work. The plot is kept moving at the expense of any semblance of character logic, and it knocks me right out of the story. To make matters worse, Hunter devolves into a ridiculous plot bunny to reveal all the wondrous inventions hidden away in the Runaways' own home that the teens have heretofore failed to discover. Hunter goes so far as to accuse the Runaways of being the "least curious group of kids" he's ever seen. Exsqueeze me? We're talking about the kids who discovered their parents were super villains, dug up a whole bunch of said parents' hidden toys and magics, and used those tools to turn themselves into kick-a$$ superheroes. Is this writer seriously trying to tell me that these kids are lacking in imagination, just so her new character can become their spirit guide? Is she really trying to put a Magic Adult in the last comic that should ever need one?

4. Bard Reffrinse, Ur Doin It Wrong: Nico starts comparing Chase to Hamlet while accusing him of "uncle-cide", and Karolina replies, "But Hamlet doesn't actually kill his uncle, does he?" Umm, actually he did. With the stabbity stabbing. It may be said that I'm a little obsessed with my Shakespeare (teeny bit), so lines like this will bother me all out of proportion. If it was meant to suggest that the kids aren't all that classically educated (perhaps in keeping with the arc's title, "Homeschooling"), then that's a little too subtle for me. If the italics are meant to imply that Karolina is in fact referring to Chase rather than the original Hamlet (perhaps so Molly and Klara won't overhear the older girls discussing if their bud just ended a dude?), that too needs explication. Because otherwise I'm just gonna think somebody doesn't know their classic literature* and completely failed to GTS**.

There could be a fascinating plot fighting to get out here, there could even be some interesting takes on the characters, but Runaways is drowning in nonsensical, non-sequatorial characterizations and fuzzy dialogue. I'm just incredibly frustrated with this book right now.

[For the record, we could have gone on for pages about the total suckitude of this issue, but mostly I just want to say SERIOUSLY KATHRYN IMMONEN PLEASE STOP. YOU ARE RUINING EVERYTHING THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS. IF YOU DO NOT SHAPE UP, I WILL STRIKE YOUR STORYLINE FROM THE RECORD. - RD]

- JC

* Which is fine. Not everyone's college degree is as awesome, useful, and lucrative as my B.A. in English Literature.
** And that's just sad.