What.
Okay, a friend-turned-enemy coming at you stronger than ever and blowing out some windows in a few buildings while you both fly through the air and poke each other, sure, okay, very traumatic. The inner monologue vowing that no one else will die in your name while you engage in possibly the pussiest bitchfight ever, totes lame. The weird midget turning protesters to murder... okay, that was actually kind of cool, but since we didn't actually SEE the murder or have much emotion invested in either side of the argument (it was like a protest of librarians fighting over the Dewey Decimal system v. straight alphabetical, I'm sure both sides had valid reasons to be protesting but honestly, WHO CARES) and then the midget got dead right afterwards (also out of sight), the cool factor was instantly mitigated.
The Olympus bits. Really? Infidelity is still a valid plot point between a couple of gods who have been around for, let's think about this, literally thousands of years? I swear, by 800 A.D. the real Hera would have keyed Zeus' car and ditched his skeezy ass, or taken up with the pool boy. There's not a lot left to get angry about after the fifth or six-thouandth half-god baby. ("It's a miracle child!" "It's a miracle you don't have the syph, idiot. Don't wake me when you come home; I'm throwing a garden party tomorrow.") And plus, these guys are pretty stupid to even be in the same room as Ares anymore. ("So, a guy walks into a bar--" "LA LA LA I'M NOT LISTENING." "I'm just telling a joke!" "That's what you said last time, and then we had drinks with this guy named Napoleon." "Aww...")
My original beef still applies. Now all we know about Diana is that she's loyal to her friends and doesn't want anyone to die. Oh wait. So is every other superhero ever. I think the problem is that comic writers simply don't know how to write women. If the women have emotions, they're too weak. If they don't have emotions, they're too masculine. If they have characterization, they're get shoved in a refrigerator.
I think I'm done with Wonder Woman for now. Maybe if Joss did the movie, I'd be open to reading it again. (HINT HINT, DC.)
- RD
Thursday, January 29, 2009
I'm sorry, Greg Rucka
I tried to like Wonder Woman (#195-199), I really did. But honestly, she's kind of an annoying character, her staff isn't much better, and all that stuff with the gods was more interesting on Xena. Sure, the gag about the mock book cover made by her publisher was vaguely funny, if you're into blatant T&A, and her personal chef is an interesting guy to have around, but. I dunno. It's still boring.
Rucka had the perfect opportunity to grab newbies to the book with the introduction of Jonah, a new staff member. We saw him jump into the life of a human in the ambassador's orbit, with only glimpses of the Woman herself, but aside from a single panel of competence, Jonah is a bumbling nerd, struck dumb at the sight of her star-spangled panties. (I can't be the first person ever to type that sentence.) I hoped he'd get better, but in his next appearance, Jonah is late for work because his alarm didn't go off. He wasn't feeding the kids, helping an old lady cross the street, holding up a liquor store or anything else that would require, y'know, personality. He didn't even get a thought bubble to explain that he hit snooze because he was up all night working on his Wonder Woman fanpage. ("here are sum hot new pics & a sotry i wrote about me & her getting MARRIED!!! plz R&R or i wont post chapter 2.")
The other humans aren't much better; the book protest guy isn't so much evil as vaguely irritating (and honestly, I'm not actually sure what it is about Diana's book that he's protesting. Paganism? Lesbianism? Not even Harry Potter protesters were invited to appear on Crossfire, so I don't know why the head of the Campaign to Keep Children Ignorant or whatever it's called is taken so seriously). The doctor lady who threatened the midget (yes, EXACTLY) is clearly Up To No Good, but she doesn't seem to have a motive or an actual plan, so I can't bring myself to care. Diana's staff are overwhelmingly competent and sensible and everyone else they run into is a parody of humanity.
Don't even get me started on Olympus.
The worst part is that I don't have a sense of Diana's actual personality. I'm five issues into Rucka's run and all I know is that she's sweet and genuine and works too hard. She's a paragon, clearly a good, smart lady, and everyone around her loves her or hates her. I was hoping for a little more character (and not so much cleavage, after JC's claim that Drew Johnson was trying to create a WW with reasonable proportions. The most I'll give him is "less outlandish," but that's about it). This is precisely why DC bores me - the heroes are perfect and the humans are predictable.
- RD
Rucka had the perfect opportunity to grab newbies to the book with the introduction of Jonah, a new staff member. We saw him jump into the life of a human in the ambassador's orbit, with only glimpses of the Woman herself, but aside from a single panel of competence, Jonah is a bumbling nerd, struck dumb at the sight of her star-spangled panties. (I can't be the first person ever to type that sentence.) I hoped he'd get better, but in his next appearance, Jonah is late for work because his alarm didn't go off. He wasn't feeding the kids, helping an old lady cross the street, holding up a liquor store or anything else that would require, y'know, personality. He didn't even get a thought bubble to explain that he hit snooze because he was up all night working on his Wonder Woman fanpage. ("here are sum hot new pics & a sotry i wrote about me & her getting MARRIED!!! plz R&R or i wont post chapter 2.")
The other humans aren't much better; the book protest guy isn't so much evil as vaguely irritating (and honestly, I'm not actually sure what it is about Diana's book that he's protesting. Paganism? Lesbianism? Not even Harry Potter protesters were invited to appear on Crossfire, so I don't know why the head of the Campaign to Keep Children Ignorant or whatever it's called is taken so seriously). The doctor lady who threatened the midget (yes, EXACTLY) is clearly Up To No Good, but she doesn't seem to have a motive or an actual plan, so I can't bring myself to care. Diana's staff are overwhelmingly competent and sensible and everyone else they run into is a parody of humanity.
Don't even get me started on Olympus.
The worst part is that I don't have a sense of Diana's actual personality. I'm five issues into Rucka's run and all I know is that she's sweet and genuine and works too hard. She's a paragon, clearly a good, smart lady, and everyone around her loves her or hates her. I was hoping for a little more character (and not so much cleavage, after JC's claim that Drew Johnson was trying to create a WW with reasonable proportions. The most I'll give him is "less outlandish," but that's about it). This is precisely why DC bores me - the heroes are perfect and the humans are predictable.
- RD
Wolverine & the X-Men: Hindsight Part 1
Wolverine is the Gary Stu of the Marvel U. Everyone knows this. It's rare to see a month go by that he's not starring in at least 10 different comics. It's almost equally rare to see a month where some comic book writer isn't cracking this joke: "Gee, Logan, how do you find time to be an X-Men, an Avenger, run 3-4 solo ops, hang out with the Power Pack kiddies, kill folk with X-Force, and get your photo taken drinking milk (it does a body good)?"
The ridiculousness of Wolverine's situation was probably exacerbated by the X-Men films. I loved the first two as much as most comic fans, but they were never really about the X-Men as a team. They reinforced the idea that Logan was the only mutant really worth anyone's interest, both in the public consciousness and almost certainly in the eyes of Marvel marketing. They were, as a friend of mine pointed out, "Wolverine & Friends!"
And now we have a new animated series with almost that very title, that manages to take the Merry Marvel Marching Mary Sue to new depths. The show opens with Wolverine about to leave the X-Mansion for a sweet jaunt on his motorbike. On his way out the door he:
a) thoroughly trounces Shadowcat, Colossus, and Nightcrawler in the Danger Room - actually, from the Danger Room control room.
b) passes by Cyclops and Jean Grey, who just happen to be having an argument about him. (This is also poor Jean's only line of dialogue, before the mysterious explosion that causes Jean and Professor X to vanish so that Cyclops can become the brooding loner and Wolverine can become the one man who can put the band back together.)
c) has a heart-to-heart with Rogue so she can tell him, "It's not a home when you're not around!"
Then we cut to one year later, so we can watch Wolverine save an adorable big-eyed little mixed-race child and her kindly parents from a fire, and then from the government-sponsored mutantphobe soldiers who want to lock them up for thinking he might be all right, razors in his hands or not. Beast tags along in a purely sidekick capacity.
This isn't X-Men. It's Everybody Loves Logan.
I fell in love with the X-Men because of their family dynamic, because they were a group of fascinating people who came together to share their strengths and their troubles and make each other and the world better. Watching them all follow Wolverine around because only he has the hearts, the brains, and the courage to lead them down the yellow spandex road is just not that interesting to me. It's a little nauseating.
- JC
The ridiculousness of Wolverine's situation was probably exacerbated by the X-Men films. I loved the first two as much as most comic fans, but they were never really about the X-Men as a team. They reinforced the idea that Logan was the only mutant really worth anyone's interest, both in the public consciousness and almost certainly in the eyes of Marvel marketing. They were, as a friend of mine pointed out, "Wolverine & Friends!"
And now we have a new animated series with almost that very title, that manages to take the Merry Marvel Marching Mary Sue to new depths. The show opens with Wolverine about to leave the X-Mansion for a sweet jaunt on his motorbike. On his way out the door he:
a) thoroughly trounces Shadowcat, Colossus, and Nightcrawler in the Danger Room - actually, from the Danger Room control room.
b) passes by Cyclops and Jean Grey, who just happen to be having an argument about him. (This is also poor Jean's only line of dialogue, before the mysterious explosion that causes Jean and Professor X to vanish so that Cyclops can become the brooding loner and Wolverine can become the one man who can put the band back together.)
c) has a heart-to-heart with Rogue so she can tell him, "It's not a home when you're not around!"
Then we cut to one year later, so we can watch Wolverine save an adorable big-eyed little mixed-race child and her kindly parents from a fire, and then from the government-sponsored mutantphobe soldiers who want to lock them up for thinking he might be all right, razors in his hands or not. Beast tags along in a purely sidekick capacity.
This isn't X-Men. It's Everybody Loves Logan.
I fell in love with the X-Men because of their family dynamic, because they were a group of fascinating people who came together to share their strengths and their troubles and make each other and the world better. Watching them all follow Wolverine around because only he has the hearts, the brains, and the courage to lead them down the yellow spandex road is just not that interesting to me. It's a little nauseating.
- JC
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Dark Reign: New Nation
As part of the Dark Reign storyline, Marvel put out a book of five 8-page previews of new series or minis set to launch within the next few months. What's fascinating is how each of these writers handle the task of getting a comic into about a third of the normal length.
War Machine: Crossing the Line (Greg Pak) and Skrull Kill Krew: Breakfast in America (Adam Felber) are both pretty standard short stories. They're both simple and true to the premise of their respective books. In War Machine, Iron Man's friend James Rhodes goes looking for bad guys to kill because he's a soldier and has no problem with killing. For this 8-page short, he finds a bad guy and kills him. Skrull Kill Krew is pretty much the same thing, only the main dude's killing Skrulls. Again, the story is short and predictable, solid writing with a few good jokes but nothing outstanding.
In Secret Warriors: Declaration, Brian Michael Bendis and Jonathan Hickman give us a glimpse inside Nick Fury's head. Fury's new team has already been introduced through a sort of backdoor pilot in Bendis' New Avenger series, so the short just sets the tone for the ongoing book. Rather than trying to cram a story into 8 pages, this is more of a vignette - if it were fanfic, it would be a drabble. It works well for what it is; Bendis writes good dialogue, so we get to see a classic Captain America WWII speech with a Band of Brothers feel. It's also interesting to see an old soldier/spy approaching the 21st century War on Terror with his 1940s idealism intact.
Agents of Atlas: The Heist was probably my favorite story in the book. I met Gorilla Man in X-Men: First Class and was looking forward to seeing him in action with his team. Jeff Parker really used the 8-page format brilliantly, introducing a group of people I was expecting to be superheroes, yet here they are stealing all the gold from Fort Knox. The reason for the heist ties into the Dark Reign overplot, but we get a full adventure that sets the group up for what's to come. It works as a short story because the idea is so simple; we get 6 pages to see how they pull off the heist and a couple pages at the end to find out why. It's not a standard plot for a super team, and it works beautifully.
The story that actually got me to pick up the book, and the one I'll probably follow in series form, was New Avengers: The Reunion: Suspicion (Jim McCann). It's about the aftermath of Secret Invasion, with Ronin and Mockingbird reunited. I was intrigued by interviews with the writer that showed he was very excited about the relationship dynamics between these two, and, as previously blogged, I liked what I saw of Mockingbird's return from years of captivity on a Skrull homeworld. The story is a prelude of what's to come rather than a self-contained plot, and it does an interesting job of showing us Mockingbird's mental state. She's returned to a changed Earth, where some friends have died, and others have fought one another in a Civil War. Her husband is just glad she's home and ready to act like nothing happened, but she's working through some PTSD and trying to figure out who she is and what the world is now. I came into this short hoping for a great superhero love story, and I still think and hope that's where Reunion is headed, but what I got was a great psychological study. Now I'm not just excited about where Ronin and Mockingbird are headed as a couple. I'm equally invested in where Mockingbird's journey is taking her alone and how she'll balance her past and her future.
- JC
War Machine: Crossing the Line (Greg Pak) and Skrull Kill Krew: Breakfast in America (Adam Felber) are both pretty standard short stories. They're both simple and true to the premise of their respective books. In War Machine, Iron Man's friend James Rhodes goes looking for bad guys to kill because he's a soldier and has no problem with killing. For this 8-page short, he finds a bad guy and kills him. Skrull Kill Krew is pretty much the same thing, only the main dude's killing Skrulls. Again, the story is short and predictable, solid writing with a few good jokes but nothing outstanding.
In Secret Warriors: Declaration, Brian Michael Bendis and Jonathan Hickman give us a glimpse inside Nick Fury's head. Fury's new team has already been introduced through a sort of backdoor pilot in Bendis' New Avenger series, so the short just sets the tone for the ongoing book. Rather than trying to cram a story into 8 pages, this is more of a vignette - if it were fanfic, it would be a drabble. It works well for what it is; Bendis writes good dialogue, so we get to see a classic Captain America WWII speech with a Band of Brothers feel. It's also interesting to see an old soldier/spy approaching the 21st century War on Terror with his 1940s idealism intact.
Agents of Atlas: The Heist was probably my favorite story in the book. I met Gorilla Man in X-Men: First Class and was looking forward to seeing him in action with his team. Jeff Parker really used the 8-page format brilliantly, introducing a group of people I was expecting to be superheroes, yet here they are stealing all the gold from Fort Knox. The reason for the heist ties into the Dark Reign overplot, but we get a full adventure that sets the group up for what's to come. It works as a short story because the idea is so simple; we get 6 pages to see how they pull off the heist and a couple pages at the end to find out why. It's not a standard plot for a super team, and it works beautifully.
The story that actually got me to pick up the book, and the one I'll probably follow in series form, was New Avengers: The Reunion: Suspicion (Jim McCann). It's about the aftermath of Secret Invasion, with Ronin and Mockingbird reunited. I was intrigued by interviews with the writer that showed he was very excited about the relationship dynamics between these two, and, as previously blogged, I liked what I saw of Mockingbird's return from years of captivity on a Skrull homeworld. The story is a prelude of what's to come rather than a self-contained plot, and it does an interesting job of showing us Mockingbird's mental state. She's returned to a changed Earth, where some friends have died, and others have fought one another in a Civil War. Her husband is just glad she's home and ready to act like nothing happened, but she's working through some PTSD and trying to figure out who she is and what the world is now. I came into this short hoping for a great superhero love story, and I still think and hope that's where Reunion is headed, but what I got was a great psychological study. Now I'm not just excited about where Ronin and Mockingbird are headed as a couple. I'm equally invested in where Mockingbird's journey is taking her alone and how she'll balance her past and her future.
- JC
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Angel: After the Fall #16
The penultimate issue of Angel: After the Fall (Bryan Lynch) came out this week, and it rocked hard.
For those unaware, the IDW comic picks up the story from the cancelled television show Angel where it left off, using concepts from series creator Joss Whedon's original plans had the show continued. It's not quite as episodic or accessible as Whedon's Buffy: Season Eight comic series; but then, Angel on television tended to be less accessible and more novelistic as well. If you're new to the characters and the world, it may not do a lot for you. If you're a fan like myself, it's been 16 issues so far of pure awesome. The series took the entire city of Los Angeles to Hell on a scale no TV budget could ever have handled. A dragon features prominently. Yet the character twists, re-twists, and growth are just what I loved on TV, along with the trademark witty banter and metaphor-laden visuals.
This latest issue sees a resolution to the big uber-arc of the comic so far when Los Angeles is at last restored to the 'real' world. There are partings, and just maybe a happy ending of sorts, and the revelation that after saving the entire city from a hell dimension, Angel has received an upgrade. He's no longer an urban legend, he's now a bona fide L.A. celebrity. I'm pretty psyched to see where that goes for the brooding loner vampire-with-a-soul.
Then again, I will admit to a little trepidation as well. After the next issue, Angel: After the Fall becomes Angel: Aftermath, and writer Brian Lynch hands over the reins to novelist Kelley Armstrong for six issues. My understanding is that this new storyline will be more like IDW's previous Angel series (The Curse, Old Friends, and Auld Lang Syne) in that it will be approved but not co-plotted by Joss.
I know, I know, fanboyism. I'm just sayin'. The previous Angel comic series (which finally have a clear slot in continuity, following this latest After the Fall) lacked the zing and the soul of the TV stories. They weren't terrible, but they had a whiff of fanfic. I'm not saying a spin-off comic without the original creator's involvement always has to turn out that way; after all, Lynch got the After the Fall gig because of his brilliant Spike: Asylum and Spike: Shadow Puppets series. I'm just hoping Aftermath can live up to the brilliance that has preceded it - and that's a mighty tall order for any series.
- JC
For those unaware, the IDW comic picks up the story from the cancelled television show Angel where it left off, using concepts from series creator Joss Whedon's original plans had the show continued. It's not quite as episodic or accessible as Whedon's Buffy: Season Eight comic series; but then, Angel on television tended to be less accessible and more novelistic as well. If you're new to the characters and the world, it may not do a lot for you. If you're a fan like myself, it's been 16 issues so far of pure awesome. The series took the entire city of Los Angeles to Hell on a scale no TV budget could ever have handled. A dragon features prominently. Yet the character twists, re-twists, and growth are just what I loved on TV, along with the trademark witty banter and metaphor-laden visuals.
This latest issue sees a resolution to the big uber-arc of the comic so far when Los Angeles is at last restored to the 'real' world. There are partings, and just maybe a happy ending of sorts, and the revelation that after saving the entire city from a hell dimension, Angel has received an upgrade. He's no longer an urban legend, he's now a bona fide L.A. celebrity. I'm pretty psyched to see where that goes for the brooding loner vampire-with-a-soul.
Then again, I will admit to a little trepidation as well. After the next issue, Angel: After the Fall becomes Angel: Aftermath, and writer Brian Lynch hands over the reins to novelist Kelley Armstrong for six issues. My understanding is that this new storyline will be more like IDW's previous Angel series (The Curse, Old Friends, and Auld Lang Syne) in that it will be approved but not co-plotted by Joss.
I know, I know, fanboyism. I'm just sayin'. The previous Angel comic series (which finally have a clear slot in continuity, following this latest After the Fall) lacked the zing and the soul of the TV stories. They weren't terrible, but they had a whiff of fanfic. I'm not saying a spin-off comic without the original creator's involvement always has to turn out that way; after all, Lynch got the After the Fall gig because of his brilliant Spike: Asylum and Spike: Shadow Puppets series. I'm just hoping Aftermath can live up to the brilliance that has preceded it - and that's a mighty tall order for any series.
- JC
Monday, January 26, 2009
Oz, y'all
I'm probably the exact demographic The Wonderful Wizard of Oz adaptation is made for. Eric Shanower used the real book, not the movie or the other movie or the other book or the stage play or the stage play with lots of wigs, to break Dorothy's story down into the simple, lovely, fascinating tale we grew up with (if we were lucky). I read one review that complained about the weird changes he made to the story and I wanted to punch that guy in the throat. They were not ruby slippers, people!
(Side note: I love Wicked, book and show, like a thing that is loved, but this series is its own kind of beauty. I can have two loves at once, don't judge me.)
But the real thing, the thing that does it for me, is Skottie Young. I don't know this man but based on his art alone I would marry him in a heartbeat. (Just kidding, JC. I would only live in sin with him for a while and then go back to you when his art was no longer my first love.) (Just kidding. I would never get tired of his art.)
I can't describe the drawings except that they make me feel... and I just stared at the blinking cursor after that word for thirty seconds before realizing I couldn't think of a word. Dorothy's big shiny head and wee squinched face, the rough scrabbly edges of everything, little Toto's feet, the Scarecrow's wild face, the Tin Man's mustache, the Lion's mane, every detail makes me want to turn myself into a big flat drawing and go live in that world. Even if I had to live in Kansas.
Um, so kind of I love this book? It feels a little weird having narration boxes where normally there would just be text, or where the art would stand alone, but JC assures me that's not unusual in old-style comics. Either way, I feel like I'm watching the novel come to life, and not in the lame Judy Garland way. Plus she was on drugs. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I do like it when Dorothy's just a farm kid in a weird place, not a cute young thing flouncing about.
- RD
(Side note: I love Wicked, book and show, like a thing that is loved, but this series is its own kind of beauty. I can have two loves at once, don't judge me.)
But the real thing, the thing that does it for me, is Skottie Young. I don't know this man but based on his art alone I would marry him in a heartbeat. (Just kidding, JC. I would only live in sin with him for a while and then go back to you when his art was no longer my first love.) (Just kidding. I would never get tired of his art.)
I can't describe the drawings except that they make me feel... and I just stared at the blinking cursor after that word for thirty seconds before realizing I couldn't think of a word. Dorothy's big shiny head and wee squinched face, the rough scrabbly edges of everything, little Toto's feet, the Scarecrow's wild face, the Tin Man's mustache, the Lion's mane, every detail makes me want to turn myself into a big flat drawing and go live in that world. Even if I had to live in Kansas.
Um, so kind of I love this book? It feels a little weird having narration boxes where normally there would just be text, or where the art would stand alone, but JC assures me that's not unusual in old-style comics. Either way, I feel like I'm watching the novel come to life, and not in the lame Judy Garland way. Plus she was on drugs. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I do like it when Dorothy's just a farm kid in a weird place, not a cute young thing flouncing about.
- RD
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Incredible Hercules: Sacred Invasion
I'm really enjoying Incredible Hercules (Greg Pak, Fred Van Lente) as a series. You've got a superhero who is also the classical definition of a hero - half god, half human - who is thousands of years old and trying to grapple with the modern world of superheros with a boy genius at his side (see previous post on Amadeus Cho). It's somewhat similar to certain episodes of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, which claims that Kevin Sorbo is the real Hercules who is producing a TV show about his life, but rather than the half-god going incognito, Incredible Hercules is out and proud and facing a world full of all kinds of supers - mutants, aliens, chemically enhanced soldiers, and more.
With Sacred Invasion, the writers have taken it to another level and created I think the cleverest crossover tie-in I've ever seen. While the Skrulls are invading Earth, Herc's sister Athena calls a conference of all human deities and says if the Skrulls win, the deities will lose their followers and be destroyed as well. They decide to fight back by directly attacking the Skrull gods, and they form a strike force (which Amadeus quickly labels the God Squad). Herc's team includes the Inuit SnowBird, the Mayan Eternal Ajak, a Japanese god of death who speaks in haiku, and an Egyptian god (I forget which one). They travel in a ship, granted to them by an Aboriginal deity, that moves through the dreamtime to seek out the Skrull gods and kick their butts.
It's not just the usual crossover story ("and THESE heroes fought the bad guys over THERE!"); it's unique to these characters and a brilliant side of the larger conflict to explore. And then it's grounded in world mythology, and that's always a big win with me.
- JC
With Sacred Invasion, the writers have taken it to another level and created I think the cleverest crossover tie-in I've ever seen. While the Skrulls are invading Earth, Herc's sister Athena calls a conference of all human deities and says if the Skrulls win, the deities will lose their followers and be destroyed as well. They decide to fight back by directly attacking the Skrull gods, and they form a strike force (which Amadeus quickly labels the God Squad). Herc's team includes the Inuit SnowBird, the Mayan Eternal Ajak, a Japanese god of death who speaks in haiku, and an Egyptian god (I forget which one). They travel in a ship, granted to them by an Aboriginal deity, that moves through the dreamtime to seek out the Skrull gods and kick their butts.
It's not just the usual crossover story ("and THESE heroes fought the bad guys over THERE!"); it's unique to these characters and a brilliant side of the larger conflict to explore. And then it's grounded in world mythology, and that's always a big win with me.
- JC
Saturday, January 24, 2009
World War Hulk: Incredible Herc
It's a well known fact that no one really likes a boy genius. If Star Trek: The Next Generation and Doctor Who couldn't pull it off, there's not much hope for other examples of the genre (though I'm one of the weird fans who actually likes both Wesley Crusher and Adric, so I could be on shaky ground with this argument).
Marvel has a new character, Amadeus Cho, who is a really fascinating boy genius. He's aware of the physics in everything around him, so when he's going to do something we get these colorful equations around his head, which is artistically very exciting. In one book, a man with a gun is running toward Amadeus, who sees a pipe on the ground in the man's path and calculates the exact time and place to throw a pebble so the man slips on the pipe. Other heroes could hit the pipe with a superstrong throw or create an energy field to knock the man over; Amadeus simply puts Archimede's theories into action.
Unlike the traditional boy genius, the key difference is that Amadeus isn't just a goody two shoes out to help the good guys. He becomes fixated on the Hulk, and sees a very noble person even when the Green Goliath is coming to carry out a mission of vengance against other superheroes. Amadeus is in a place where he can use his powers of brilliance to help people or get people hurt because of a misguided and very realistically young view of the world. He paints some people as fascists and others as heroes, and as intelligent as he is, he's not really wise enough to tell the difference.
I also like how Amadeus is used to make the Hulk more of a hero again. Some recent writers fixated on the idea of Hulk as a monster, asking how he can cause as much destruction as he does and not have some civilians get killed. The kid faces Hulk down and says he's hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D. and read his files, and found that Hulk has never killed anyone. The only time people have died as a result of Hulk's actions was when they separated Bruce Banner's personality from the big green guy. As many tanks as he's thrown across the desert, as many helicopers as he's pulled down, no soldiers have died - and Amadeus says it's because Hulk is like him. He sees the math in everything, and uses that to make sure no one gets hurt. With that speech, he restores Hulk to the character I find most interesting, the gentle giant I first met on Saturday morning cartoons.
I'd also love to see Hulk's longtime nemesis General "Thunderbolt" Ross acknowledge this. I want to see a scene where he says, "Look, I know you're not actually a bad guy, but in the current economy we can't afford all this property damage."
It's nice to see Marvel make a tired old trope new again, introducing a boy genius and making it work by adding enough of the actual teenager back in to make it interesting, and using him to bring a fresh perspective to classic characters we've had for years.
And now Amadeus is running around with Hercules, so that's going to be interesting.
- JC
Marvel has a new character, Amadeus Cho, who is a really fascinating boy genius. He's aware of the physics in everything around him, so when he's going to do something we get these colorful equations around his head, which is artistically very exciting. In one book, a man with a gun is running toward Amadeus, who sees a pipe on the ground in the man's path and calculates the exact time and place to throw a pebble so the man slips on the pipe. Other heroes could hit the pipe with a superstrong throw or create an energy field to knock the man over; Amadeus simply puts Archimede's theories into action.
Unlike the traditional boy genius, the key difference is that Amadeus isn't just a goody two shoes out to help the good guys. He becomes fixated on the Hulk, and sees a very noble person even when the Green Goliath is coming to carry out a mission of vengance against other superheroes. Amadeus is in a place where he can use his powers of brilliance to help people or get people hurt because of a misguided and very realistically young view of the world. He paints some people as fascists and others as heroes, and as intelligent as he is, he's not really wise enough to tell the difference.
I also like how Amadeus is used to make the Hulk more of a hero again. Some recent writers fixated on the idea of Hulk as a monster, asking how he can cause as much destruction as he does and not have some civilians get killed. The kid faces Hulk down and says he's hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D. and read his files, and found that Hulk has never killed anyone. The only time people have died as a result of Hulk's actions was when they separated Bruce Banner's personality from the big green guy. As many tanks as he's thrown across the desert, as many helicopers as he's pulled down, no soldiers have died - and Amadeus says it's because Hulk is like him. He sees the math in everything, and uses that to make sure no one gets hurt. With that speech, he restores Hulk to the character I find most interesting, the gentle giant I first met on Saturday morning cartoons.
I'd also love to see Hulk's longtime nemesis General "Thunderbolt" Ross acknowledge this. I want to see a scene where he says, "Look, I know you're not actually a bad guy, but in the current economy we can't afford all this property damage."
It's nice to see Marvel make a tired old trope new again, introducing a boy genius and making it work by adding enough of the actual teenager back in to make it interesting, and using him to bring a fresh perspective to classic characters we've had for years.
And now Amadeus is running around with Hercules, so that's going to be interesting.
- JC
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Spidey Meets Obama
So today I read Amazing Spider-Man #583, more commonly known as the Inauguration Special where Spider-Man meets Barack Obama. The artwork is fantastic. Todd Nauck is a brilliant artist, I've loved his work ever since the old Young Justice series. He's never let me down and I doubt he ever will.
The script by Zeb Wells, on the other hand... I understand this story was put together in about a week's time, but this guy does not write well under pressure. I was hoping for something more like the Colbert issue, but instead we got a plot that revolves around a famous Spider-Man villain written as a complete buffoon.
Neil Gaiman talks frequently about how newspaper articles about comics far too often use headlines ripped from the 1960s Batman TV show - Wham, Pow, Comics Aren't Just for Kids Anymore! For at least the last 20 years that we've had a lot of great comics for adults, and even those like Batman and Superman that were traditionally for kids have intelligent storylines now, able to hold up to other forms of literature.
The Obama story seems like it was meant to be an over-the-top old school crazy comedy, a deliberate pastiche of silver age comic adventures, but the script sadly isn't clever enough to pull that off. With only six pages to tell a story, you need a plot outlandish enough to be charming and jokes that are actually funny.
I can't help but feel that Marvel dropped the ball a bit on this one. I work in a bookstore. We're featuring this special issue on our Obama Inauguration display table, and we've had people calling or coming in to ask about it for the last couple of weeks. People will definitely be picking up this issue who don't usually buy comics, who probably haven't read a comic book since they were kids. They'll flip straight to the Obama story, ignore the rest of the comic--and instead of being turned on to how clever and intelligent modern comics can be, they'll assume they're just as ridiculous and cheesy as Adam West in a grey leotard.
- JC
(I didn't read the book, but "Barasket Oballma" cracked my ass up. - RD)
The script by Zeb Wells, on the other hand... I understand this story was put together in about a week's time, but this guy does not write well under pressure. I was hoping for something more like the Colbert issue, but instead we got a plot that revolves around a famous Spider-Man villain written as a complete buffoon.
Neil Gaiman talks frequently about how newspaper articles about comics far too often use headlines ripped from the 1960s Batman TV show - Wham, Pow, Comics Aren't Just for Kids Anymore! For at least the last 20 years that we've had a lot of great comics for adults, and even those like Batman and Superman that were traditionally for kids have intelligent storylines now, able to hold up to other forms of literature.
The Obama story seems like it was meant to be an over-the-top old school crazy comedy, a deliberate pastiche of silver age comic adventures, but the script sadly isn't clever enough to pull that off. With only six pages to tell a story, you need a plot outlandish enough to be charming and jokes that are actually funny.
I can't help but feel that Marvel dropped the ball a bit on this one. I work in a bookstore. We're featuring this special issue on our Obama Inauguration display table, and we've had people calling or coming in to ask about it for the last couple of weeks. People will definitely be picking up this issue who don't usually buy comics, who probably haven't read a comic book since they were kids. They'll flip straight to the Obama story, ignore the rest of the comic--and instead of being turned on to how clever and intelligent modern comics can be, they'll assume they're just as ridiculous and cheesy as Adam West in a grey leotard.
- JC
(I didn't read the book, but "Barasket Oballma" cracked my ass up. - RD)
Monday, January 19, 2009
Secret Invasion #2
In Issue #2 of Secret Invasion (Brian Michael Bendis), Hawkeye apparently gets his wife back. Mockingbird was killed off many years ago (in reader time, at least), but returns in the midst of the Skrull takeover. So, like anyone faced with a "Would the Real Superhero Please Stand Up?" Hawkeye asks her about something that only his real wife would know, something they never shared with anyone else. He asks his wife to remind him of the significance of October 12.
"The baby we lost, Mockingbird replies, "October 12th would have been the birthday. It... would have been a nice day."
What I found fascinating was not the fact that Hawkeye used the date as his password question, but that these people, who have been through one of the most horrible things that a couple can experience, don't talk about it as something that haunts them. They just say, "It would have been a nice day."
When I look at characterization that works, I see superheros as people that we want to be. It's not just that they have the powers and the vision that we wish we had; they find the strength to put personal tragedies in perspective. I think most people could be consumed with grief at losing a child, and though it's clear that the couple were deeply saddened by their loss, they chose to focus on how happy they would have been. It's a subtle but vast distinction.
Hawkeye and Mockingbird have been described as the Mr. and Mrs. Smith of the Marvel universe. I don't know these characters particularly well yet, but I'm really looking forward to seeing where they go from here.
And hey, it's nice to see Marvel un-kill a marriage for once.
- JC
"The baby we lost, Mockingbird replies, "October 12th would have been the birthday. It... would have been a nice day."
What I found fascinating was not the fact that Hawkeye used the date as his password question, but that these people, who have been through one of the most horrible things that a couple can experience, don't talk about it as something that haunts them. They just say, "It would have been a nice day."
When I look at characterization that works, I see superheros as people that we want to be. It's not just that they have the powers and the vision that we wish we had; they find the strength to put personal tragedies in perspective. I think most people could be consumed with grief at losing a child, and though it's clear that the couple were deeply saddened by their loss, they chose to focus on how happy they would have been. It's a subtle but vast distinction.
Hawkeye and Mockingbird have been described as the Mr. and Mrs. Smith of the Marvel universe. I don't know these characters particularly well yet, but I'm really looking forward to seeing where they go from here.
And hey, it's nice to see Marvel un-kill a marriage for once.
- JC
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Secret Invasion
The series is a culmination of several plot lines in recent Marvel books where the Skrulls - shape-changing aliens - have been working for a while to take over the Earth, and have been replacing various superheroes to do this. There's a really neat two-page spread where you see Times Square and all these TV screens with Skrull versions of politicians, superheroes, and TV personalities. They claim to have been observing the poverty and war on Earth for some time, and have now come to help us fix our problems.
Their announcement includes the statement, "Once we have settled in, we will begin replacing your energy sources and your borders. All areas of modern conflict will be moot." It's every invasion in human history, with the invaders trying to convince the invaded that they were being liberated. But like in our own recent conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, the Skrulls have an ulterior motive after all - their own resources are limited and they're hoping to settle some of their population to Earth. They don't have the humility to simply ask for what they need, they must bring their religion and intelligence to make the planet a better place. They're doing Earth a favor - one that humans don't necessarily want or need.
The question becomes which of the invaders truly believe they're doing the right thing, and which of them know that their population needs the resources Earth represents - and how much of either of those viewpoints justifies what they're doing.
Also, though the point isn't made overtly, the final issue seems to imply that it's actually President G.W. Bush who puts Norman Osborn in the position of power that leads to Dark Reign. As Marvel likes to reflect the current political situation, and they're about to do their Obama inauguration thing, it suggests that W. is the president who hands Norman, and by extension a cabal of supervillians, the keys to the kingdom. It's a nice bold stroke.
- JC
Their announcement includes the statement, "Once we have settled in, we will begin replacing your energy sources and your borders. All areas of modern conflict will be moot." It's every invasion in human history, with the invaders trying to convince the invaded that they were being liberated. But like in our own recent conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, the Skrulls have an ulterior motive after all - their own resources are limited and they're hoping to settle some of their population to Earth. They don't have the humility to simply ask for what they need, they must bring their religion and intelligence to make the planet a better place. They're doing Earth a favor - one that humans don't necessarily want or need.
The question becomes which of the invaders truly believe they're doing the right thing, and which of them know that their population needs the resources Earth represents - and how much of either of those viewpoints justifies what they're doing.
Also, though the point isn't made overtly, the final issue seems to imply that it's actually President G.W. Bush who puts Norman Osborn in the position of power that leads to Dark Reign. As Marvel likes to reflect the current political situation, and they're about to do their Obama inauguration thing, it suggests that W. is the president who hands Norman, and by extension a cabal of supervillians, the keys to the kingdom. It's a nice bold stroke.
- JC
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Marvel vs. DC
I like my stories to be, like, interesting, which is why I'm not into DC Comics.
I grew up watching classic comic movies, like Batman and Superman, but even then I was disappointed in the static characterizations they tended to have. Also, really lame "secret" identities. Bruce Wayne's chiseled jaw was pretty distinct, even under a cowl, but a pair of glasses? Really? That's all you could come up with? And then you're photographed all the time in the newspaper you work for and they STILL don't know it's you? Are they putting stupid in the Metropolis water supply? And these guys are totally badass, why are they keeping it a secret? Bruce is a billionaire; if he came out, he'd just be seen as eccentric and he'd be asked to throw benefit parties in costume. Superman is freaking SUPERMAN. What's the point of hiding?
I used to watch the X-Men after school and I really dug it. For one thing, it was easier to play on the playground - you got your Cyclops (the bossy kid) and your Jean Grey (the prissy girl) and your Wolverine (the slightly aggressive kid who grinned a lot) and your Jubilee (whoever was wearing a yellow raincoat that day). Seriously, try to play Superman and you get a lot of fights over who's Clark and who's Lois and everyone else sort of stands around shouting for help and then you get in trouble with the teachers. For another thing, they were a family. Not just a team or an ensemble, but they had relationships like we understood - Scott and Jean were a couple, Logan and Jubilee had this parent/kid thing going on, it wasn't the vague unresolved tension between Clark and Lois. And they weren't really hiding who they were. They were mutants, and sometimes they got crap for it, but everyone knew that they were different.
But it was Spider-Man (JC forced me to correct this from "Spiderman," which is WHAT STAN LEE CALLED HIM I HAVE SEEN THE PAGE SCANS) who got me into real comics, because Bendis, as previously stated, rocks. I read Ultimate Spidey #1 through #115 in three days as JC bagged and alphabetized his collection last spring break. Peter is, above all else, a relationships man - and Bendis makes that very personal. Then I had to read some New Avengers, some Ultimate X-Men, Pulse, Runaways, Y the Last Man, Power Pack, Buffy season 8... yeah.
I haven't bothered to get into the subtleties of recent DC canon, though JC assures me they've gotten more complex, because I can't shake that childhood impression of super powers in the form of men. I like to read about men who just so happen to be super.
- RD
I grew up watching classic comic movies, like Batman and Superman, but even then I was disappointed in the static characterizations they tended to have. Also, really lame "secret" identities. Bruce Wayne's chiseled jaw was pretty distinct, even under a cowl, but a pair of glasses? Really? That's all you could come up with? And then you're photographed all the time in the newspaper you work for and they STILL don't know it's you? Are they putting stupid in the Metropolis water supply? And these guys are totally badass, why are they keeping it a secret? Bruce is a billionaire; if he came out, he'd just be seen as eccentric and he'd be asked to throw benefit parties in costume. Superman is freaking SUPERMAN. What's the point of hiding?
I used to watch the X-Men after school and I really dug it. For one thing, it was easier to play on the playground - you got your Cyclops (the bossy kid) and your Jean Grey (the prissy girl) and your Wolverine (the slightly aggressive kid who grinned a lot) and your Jubilee (whoever was wearing a yellow raincoat that day). Seriously, try to play Superman and you get a lot of fights over who's Clark and who's Lois and everyone else sort of stands around shouting for help and then you get in trouble with the teachers. For another thing, they were a family. Not just a team or an ensemble, but they had relationships like we understood - Scott and Jean were a couple, Logan and Jubilee had this parent/kid thing going on, it wasn't the vague unresolved tension between Clark and Lois. And they weren't really hiding who they were. They were mutants, and sometimes they got crap for it, but everyone knew that they were different.
But it was Spider-Man (JC forced me to correct this from "Spiderman," which is WHAT STAN LEE CALLED HIM I HAVE SEEN THE PAGE SCANS) who got me into real comics, because Bendis, as previously stated, rocks. I read Ultimate Spidey #1 through #115 in three days as JC bagged and alphabetized his collection last spring break. Peter is, above all else, a relationships man - and Bendis makes that very personal. Then I had to read some New Avengers, some Ultimate X-Men, Pulse, Runaways, Y the Last Man, Power Pack, Buffy season 8... yeah.
I haven't bothered to get into the subtleties of recent DC canon, though JC assures me they've gotten more complex, because I can't shake that childhood impression of super powers in the form of men. I like to read about men who just so happen to be super.
- RD
Ultimate Origins
The story of Captain America is that he was a scrawny kid with a gimpy leg who desperately wanted to enlist during WWII, but couldn't, so they let him test a super soldier serum so he could get big and buff and go kick Nazi ass.
In Ultimate Origins #2 (Brian Michael Bendis) there's a scene right after Steve Rogers has become Captain America where FDR comes to him and says something like, "We need you. It's not just about kicking Nazi ass; if we don't have you, we're going to have to use a bomb, a really big bomb, and cause genocide." And then Cap gets frozen in ice and even in the Marvel universe they end up using the bomb anyway.
Superheros first appeared in the 1930s, as the Nazis were coming to power. Bendis exposes the entire genre as an imaginary solution to the world wars - powerful men with moral judgment and discernment who could kick bad guy ass without damaging civilians. And he puts them in that context by comparing them to the bomb we got instead.
It's indicative of why we still find superheros important today. We see it in in Iron Man when his targeting scope picks out the bad guys so he can blast them with pinpoint shots. He's actually able to separate the terrorists from the civilians, which is something we struggle with. We want Superman rather than a smart bomb, because the smart bombs aren't smart enough.
I haven't read it, but I've been spoiled on the latest issue of Final Crisis, where Batman, the well-known hater of guns, shoots Darkseid with a gun. This seems to relate to the same idea, in that the purpose for superheros is to stand in contrast to our real-world methods of crime-fighting and war. Grant Morrison may be trying to tap into the War on Terror zeitgeist, in which people want their heroes to be willing to put personal qualms aside and pick up a gun, but it's more likely that the writer missed that essential element of superheros - they are meant to have better ways of dealing with issues. We want to see Batman winning with his wits, his batarangs, and possibly the awesome power of Legos.
- JC
In Ultimate Origins #2 (Brian Michael Bendis) there's a scene right after Steve Rogers has become Captain America where FDR comes to him and says something like, "We need you. It's not just about kicking Nazi ass; if we don't have you, we're going to have to use a bomb, a really big bomb, and cause genocide." And then Cap gets frozen in ice and even in the Marvel universe they end up using the bomb anyway.
Superheros first appeared in the 1930s, as the Nazis were coming to power. Bendis exposes the entire genre as an imaginary solution to the world wars - powerful men with moral judgment and discernment who could kick bad guy ass without damaging civilians. And he puts them in that context by comparing them to the bomb we got instead.
It's indicative of why we still find superheros important today. We see it in in Iron Man when his targeting scope picks out the bad guys so he can blast them with pinpoint shots. He's actually able to separate the terrorists from the civilians, which is something we struggle with. We want Superman rather than a smart bomb, because the smart bombs aren't smart enough.
I haven't read it, but I've been spoiled on the latest issue of Final Crisis, where Batman, the well-known hater of guns, shoots Darkseid with a gun. This seems to relate to the same idea, in that the purpose for superheros is to stand in contrast to our real-world methods of crime-fighting and war. Grant Morrison may be trying to tap into the War on Terror zeitgeist, in which people want their heroes to be willing to put personal qualms aside and pick up a gun, but it's more likely that the writer missed that essential element of superheros - they are meant to have better ways of dealing with issues. We want to see Batman winning with his wits, his batarangs, and possibly the awesome power of Legos.
- JC
Friday, January 16, 2009
Wolverine/Power Pack #3
JC works at a bookstore, so he brings these things home and puts them on my bedside table. "Honey, you have to read this, it's hilarious," he says, and I'll do pretty much anything to make him happy.
I don't usually pay attention to the names of the artists, but I miss Gurihiru on this Wolverine/Power Pack. Somehow it's just not right unless the kids' eyes are at least 45% of their faces.
The time travel thing is cute, but Joss did it better with Runaways. Well, he did it first. Well, it's a nice story, but I want Gurihiru back. I'm a minimalist. ("Except when it comes to eyes." - JC)
- RD
I don't usually pay attention to the names of the artists, but I miss Gurihiru on this Wolverine/Power Pack. Somehow it's just not right unless the kids' eyes are at least 45% of their faces.
The time travel thing is cute, but Joss did it better with Runaways. Well, he did it first. Well, it's a nice story, but I want Gurihiru back. I'm a minimalist. ("Except when it comes to eyes." - JC)
- RD
Fantastic Four #562
The latest Fantastic Four (Mark Millar) has a Doctor Who reference which normally should be an automatic thumbs-up for me, but instead it's so typically Millar, a great idea at war with shaky characterization.
Reed Richards is having a conversation with his hyper- intelligent daughter Valeria, who has just created a dimensionally transcendental trailer for the Fantasticar, inspired by DW. Reed is of course impressed, but says to his daughter, Didn't we agree that Doctor Who is too scary for little girls? " and Valeria replies, "C'mon, I watch that to unwind from all the crazy stuff in our real lives."
On the one hand, I love a little girl building her own TARDIS - I certainly would if I could - and I'm amused that she finds a crazy sci-fi show a great way to relax. That part is perfectly in character. But for Reed to suggest that his children are not mature enough to handle a family show like DW makes him sound like a bit of an uptight douche.
Do I perhaps take things a little too seriously as a Whovian who plans to bring up my children the same way I was, watching DW from the first moment of their lives? Entirely possible. Still, on the whole this scene is in keeping with my previous experience with Mark Millar, that he will follow a really good idea and bend the characters as much as he needs to fit, rather than finding a way to express that idea that is truer to - at least my conception of - those characters.
As opposed to Bendis, whose every script craps rainbows. Hey, I never claimed to be objective.
- JC
Reed Richards is having a conversation with his hyper- intelligent daughter Valeria, who has just created a dimensionally transcendental trailer for the Fantasticar, inspired by DW. Reed is of course impressed, but says to his daughter, Didn't we agree that Doctor Who is too scary for little girls? " and Valeria replies, "C'mon, I watch that to unwind from all the crazy stuff in our real lives."
On the one hand, I love a little girl building her own TARDIS - I certainly would if I could - and I'm amused that she finds a crazy sci-fi show a great way to relax. That part is perfectly in character. But for Reed to suggest that his children are not mature enough to handle a family show like DW makes him sound like a bit of an uptight douche.
Do I perhaps take things a little too seriously as a Whovian who plans to bring up my children the same way I was, watching DW from the first moment of their lives? Entirely possible. Still, on the whole this scene is in keeping with my previous experience with Mark Millar, that he will follow a really good idea and bend the characters as much as he needs to fit, rather than finding a way to express that idea that is truer to - at least my conception of - those characters.
As opposed to Bendis, whose every script craps rainbows. Hey, I never claimed to be objective.
- JC
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