Agents of Atlas #1 and #2

The titular Agents of Atlas are without a doubt Marvel's most unique superhero team, consisting of a rejuvenated 1950s FBI Agent, a human gorilla, a robot, an Atlantean, a mythic beauty, and a man raised on Uranus (you don't even have to go there, 'cause writer Jeff Parker is already doing it for you, frequently yet tastefully). They operate out of a secret lair full of warrior scholars, mystics, servants, and a dragon - when they're not zooming around in a bone fide flying saucer. And they all originated in Marvel comics from before there was a Marvel comics, at a time when the company was called Atlas, hence the name.

Or rather, hence half the name, because the "Agents" part is really just as important here. The book intersperses it's modern Marvel Dark Reign tale about the Agents attempting to infiltrate Norman Osborn's H.A.M.M.E.R. with flashbacks to their oddball '50s adventures as a special FBI task force. In doing so, it manages to play with the two greatest FBI storytelling tropes at once. The clean-cut 1950s "G-Men Are Hip, Daddio!" stories both contrast with and sit comfortably beside a modern "Donnie Brasco" style undercover-with-the-mob tale.

The Agents have recently been given control of a former enemy's mysterious Atlas Foundation. The ancient Foundation, part cult and part multinational business conglomerate, traces its lineage back to Genghis Khan and has been dedicated for centuries to world conquest. Now the Agents mean to use its powers for good - convincing their new followers that world peace is a kind of world conquest - but with shady men like Osborn on the rise, they're also finding it useful to keep up the Foundation's image as villains. There are shades of season five of Joss Whedon's Angel, as the characters struggle to turn the resources of corruption to noble purposes.

It's the genius of Parker's set-up that makes it possible for such an unusual and distinctive team of heroes to go undercover, and it's the genius of the Dark Reign scenario that this time, the mob the Agents are trying to infiltrate IS the legitimate government. It's Marvel's most exuberantly retro heroes in a delicious conspiracy tale for our troubled, paranoid age. Or do we just hope we're paranoid?

- JC

Invincible Iron Man #11

In his first Iron Man story arc, Matt Fraction established Tony Stark as a master chess player capable of holding his own with Reed "Smartest Guy in the Marvel U" Richards. Now Tony is taking on the Dark Reign of Norman Osborn in "World's Most Wanted."

Four issues into this 12-part epic, the game still seems a slow and cautious one. Osborn, intent on getting his hands on Tony's list of registered superhero identities, has laid the blame for the recent Skrull invasion at Iron Man's armored feet. So Tony is on the run, deliberately distancing himself from his friends, yet subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) nudging them in the directions he needs them to go. It's hard to say where all this is headed just yet, but still fascinating watching Tony maneuver all the pieces on the board: by-the-book former S.H.I.E.L.D. director Maria Hill, now one bad-@$$ revolutionary/saboteur; War Machine, goaded into a fight with Tony (why do we never tire of watching the good guys spar?); Pepper Potts, now with her very own Iron Woman suit, which is also the biggest and coolest iPod ever (96,000 songs!); and Henry Hellrung, out of his depth but a welcome addition to the story. I enjoyed what I've read of the Order so far and Henry's leadership there. And how can you not love a hero who used to be Tony Stark's AA sponsor?

But my favorite part of this issue, and probably of this whole story so far? Tony Stark's shiny new Gmail account.

I'm a big fan of viral marketing, of all the wacky new ways storytellers are finding to make readers/viewers a part of the worlds they create. "The River Tam Sessions" got me even more excited to see Serenity, and I've enjoyed recent sitcom tie-in websites featuring (fake) hair accessories and Alan Thicke. As soon as Tony began describing to his friends how to use his secret doomsday Gmail account, I knew Fraction was letting us in on Tony's game.

So I went to Gmail. I tried and failed to log in to the secret account. And then I did what any good 21st century fanboy does: I cheated. I googled. And sure enough, someone on a message board had figured it out. The log-in info was a clever bit of misdirection, but an e-mail sent to Tony's address got a response. I had to try this myself. I spent a ridiculous amount of time staring at my screen, pondering just the right message of support to send to a fictional character on the run from a crooked government agency. [I rolled my eyes the whole time. - R] I settled on a Whedon reference.

The next day I checked my inbox and found an email waiting from "Sue." Sue Donym. It was my very own secret message from "T."

Fraction, you're just my kind of cheeseball.

- JC

Angel #19

The now subtitle-less Angel is a more uneven title than the uber-arc that was Angel: After the Fall. New writer Kelley Armstrong picks up the characters and the City of Angel more or less where Brian Lynch left off - been to Hell, got the t-shirt, can we go back to helping the hopeless now, plz? - but it misses Lynch's fast-paced snark. I'm still interested in seeing how the characters and relationships continue to develop, particularly the happier dynamic finally earned between Angel and Connor, and it's great seeing Kate Lockley back in a new role, but the series doesn't have the same sharp, perfectly Jossian edge it once did.

I have much love and respect for comic book artists, but as a writer I look first at a book's script; that's what I feel most qualified to analyze. Even so, I'm not sure what to make of this art by Dave Ross. His basic style is straightforward and more or less realistic. His likenesses of the TV characters aren't particularly accurate or evocative, but I'm less concerned that Angel doesn't look like David Boreanaz than I am by how often he and other characters appear constipated. There are some very odd expressions on faces in this book, particularly during action scenes, and strange postures and camera angles.

A bigger problem has to do with visual pacing and panel layout. I'm a big fan of Scott McCloud's work, particularly Understanding Comics, and the theories he describes about how the essence of comic book storytelling lies in the space between the panels, the way in which the reader is left to fill in for themselves just how the character got from panel A to panel B. But there are places in Angel #19 where I really felt a panel or a key image was missing.

Case in point: Angel is surprised by a mysterious woman in his bedroom. They fight, then the woman ends up lounging across his headboard while they make with the yak-yak A threat is made. Angel, in a close-up, says, "You can't even catch--" and in the next panel, we see the woman suddenly standing right in front of him. The implication here is that the woman made a cheetah-fast leap from the headboard to the floor before Angel could see her coming. But the way the action was presented here, with a panel of close-up on Angel's face between the woman lounging on the headboard and the woman right there in front of him, it took me a second to work the action out. Since we couldn't see what the woman was doing during the close-up on Angel, how did we know she hadn't begun to move while he was speaking? The layout here muddled the action, and took me out of the story for several moments while I reconstructed what was meant to have happened.

A weak script will distract me from a good comic faster than anything, but the combination of a weak script and confusing art make it difficult for me to enjoy myself. Here's hoping the work evens out some over the next few issues.

- JC

Marvel 1985

I liked Mark Millar's Marvel 1985, but I wanted to love it and could never quite get there. It needed to be either half as long or twice as deep. The story had quite a few great character moments, but just not enough plot to sustain six issues.

The setting is "our universe" in 1985. Toby, a 13-year-old comic fan, starts seeing Marvel villains creeping around his town. Over the course of the story, the villains start killing people, so Toby has to figure out how they came through from the comic world and how to get the Marvel heroes to come over and fix the problem.

At home, Toby is facing some not uncommon problems. His parents are divorced, and though his stepdad is an okay fella, Toby is very close to his father, a comic-book-reading slightly bummish former musician. There are hints that Toby's mom chose her new husband for his ambition, which gets the family things like a new car and a possible move to England, but Toby is upset with the possibility of leaving his father behind.

The entire story could have been three really great issues rather than six pretty good ones. The story sags in the middle, with scenes of villains running around and Toby hanging out with his dad, but nothing really moving the plot along. The heroes appear at the end and have their brief moment of glory, making everything all right as is their function. Toby's true hero, of course, is his father, and the story spends a lot of time reassuring the reader that even shiftless dads without full custody can be positive male role models. I guess.

The ending is confusing on a couple of levels, rather typically for a Millar story. Toby's dad gets hurt badly, and the only chance for him to live is by tossing him into the Marvel Universe, where mortal wounds aren't always mortal and anyone can come out of a decades-long coma in perfect health. What is unclear is why Toby as an adult would feel the need to manufacture a love life for his dad (as amusing as the choice of obscure-Marvel-supporting-character-girlfriend may be), or why 13-year-old Toby didn't just grab his spiral notebook as soon as he got home to write the ending immediately. Apparently the happy ending is only valid if created by a sanctioned Marvel writer.

Despite the flaws, I enjoyed the concept and some of the exploration. I also appreciated the touches of '80s realism, like He-Man t-shirts and the comic shop dude who drinks from a disappearing TARDIS mug - much like the one I got sometime in 1985 and still have today. [It's in the sink. Not dishwasher safe. - RD]

- JC

Mighty Avengers: Secret Invasion

Mighty Avengers: Secret Invasion Book 2 (Brian Michael Bendis) collects issues #16-20 of Mighty Avengers, five single-issue stories each serving to illuminate a character or situation from Secret Invasion.

It's an uneven collection. Three of the stories are quick character sketches, heavy on swordfights or explosions but light on plot. One issue shows how Elektra was captured by the Skrulls and her doppleganger took control of the Hand ninja clan. Two very similar issues depict Skrull sleeper agents becoming overly influenced by the personalities they're attempting to replicate, and ultimately getting cut down by their own kind. Reading these vignettes, one can't help but wonder if Bendis stretched himself just a little too thin between the main Secret Invasion mini, his pair of Avengers titles (and the Dark in development), Powers, etc. There are some fascinating moments here, and snatches of typically Bendis dialogue (which I love), but they read a little like official Secret Invasion fanfic. They're drabbles.

The Nick Fury issue is stronger, another preview story for the new Secret Warriors. We learn what it's like to be a super-powered teenager in training with the world's oldest, grumpiest master spy. It made me wish that the actual Secret Warriors book was written this tightly and hope that it will be, once Jonathan Hickman has a little more time to settle into the concept.

But it's the final story that makes the whole book worth the price of admission. Hank Pym (a.k.a. Ant Man a.k.a. Giant Man a.k.a. Goliath a.k.a. Yellowjacket, soon to be the new Wasp [MPD much? - RD]) returns from Skrull captivity to face a radically new Marvel universe. He wasn't there for House of M or Civil War or World War Hulk, and even the Secret Invasion was over when he finally stepped out of that Skrull spaceship.

His friends have turned on each other, torn the superhero community apart, and his wife (Janet Van Dyne, the Wasp) is dead. Of course it's at the funeral that he finally breaks down, lashes out inevitably and inappropriately. His grief, coupled with the way in which Thor steps in for his friend, quite literally put tears in my eyes. Granted, anyone who knows me will attest that's not entirely rare, but even so, it's an outstanding and moving story. Plus, we get to see Clint Barton drop the F-bomb (okay, technically the "*$#%!"-bomb) on Norman Osborn in a church. What's not to love about that?

- JC

Fantastic Four: Dark Reign #1

In Fantastic Four: Dark Reign (Jonathan Hickman), Reed Richards builds a machine to travel to other realities to compare problem-solving techniques with his counterparts. It's a very cool idea, if not an entirely an original one. Mark Millar, during his run on Ultimate Fantastic Four, put Ultimate Reed Richards in contact with some of his alternate selves so they could work as a sort of uber-thinktank. But Millar's idea was merely a lead-in for his Ultimate FF vs. Marvel Zombies arc - in essence, just a macguffin to set up a big summer horror flick.

Here, Hickman gives the concept some real pathos. In the wake of the Skrull invasion, Reed looks back at all the recent tragedies that have rocked the Marvel Universe, like Secret Invasion, World War Hulk, Civil War, etc. He feels responsible some of these events, but more than that, he believes deeply that "every problem has a solution" and his interdimensional bridge is the way to find them. It gets at the core of Reed Richards, the intersection between the superhero and the scientist. And with all the inter-reality travel the Fantastic Four (not to mention other Marvel heroes) have engaged in over the years, it's a wonder it's taken 40+ years to see someone really tackle this story head on.

The remaining Fantastic Three are left without knowing how long Reed will be gone or what he'll be facing while he's away. And of course there are some shenanigans from Norman "I'm a Sane Protector of Babies and Apple Pie Now, Really" Osborn as Reed is heading out, 'cause what else happens on a Tuesday night in the Baxter Building?

(The comic didn't actually specify that it was a Tuesday. But it was in some reality, I'm sure. So there.)

- JC

New Avengers: The Reunion #1

In the first issue of a new miniseries, writer Jim McCann makes good on the promise of his Dark Reign: New Nation short, combining compelling emotional drama with Avengers action and Dark Reign intrigue. Bobbi Morse, the Avenger Mockingbird, struggles with a pretty clear case of post-traumatic stress disorder following years captivity on the Skrull homeworld. In the real world, PTSD often leads to estrangement from loved ones and substance abuse as the victim struggles to live in a world that no longer feels safe. In the Marvel universe, PSTD leads to estrangement and fights with hordes of mad scientists in banana-yellow jumpsuits.

It's a story that works neatly on two levels. On the outside, Mockingbird is working to expose a vast conspiracy while her husband (maybe) Ronin (a.k.a. Hawkeye a.k.a. Clint Baron) tags along. During her captivity, Bobbie managed to get her hands on intelligence the aliens had gathered in preparation for their invasion, revealing that the governments and spy services of Marvel Earth were riddled with double agents. This dovetails neatly with the events of Dark Reign and the revelations over in Secret Warriors. A former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent herself, it's hinted that Mockingbird is in contact with other spies - possibly other former Skrull captives - who are pooling their resources to root out the traitors.

On the inside, Mockingbird is something of a mess. It doesn't take captivity on a world full of shape-changers or an evil conspiracy in the spy service you work for to give a person trust issues, but it certainly drives the metaphor home. As Bobbi fights to save the world, she's running away from her marriage to Clint, which may or may not have been nullified by her death certificate, and her friendships with her fellow Avengers. As Clint tries, repeatedly, to talk Bobbi into bringing their fellow Avengers in on the mission, he's being Hawkeye, the Avengers' cheerleader-in-chief since 1965, but he's also a worried husband trying to convince his wife that it's okay to share her burdens with the people who love her.

- JC

Secret Invasion: Front Line

Who says this isn't the Marvel Age of Disaster Movies? First Bendis gave us that angle on Ultimatum in Ultimate Spider-Man, and now I find Brian Reed has done the same for Bendis' own Secret Invasion. And like in most disaster movies, the story's impact comes from who lives and who dies.

Secret Invasion: Front Line follows reporter Ben Urich as he makes his way through the chaos of Manhattan during the Skrull invasion, hooking up with other non-super powered citizens and fighting just to get out of the way of the war.

Back in the 90s, you'd watch a movie like Jurassic Park or Volcano and you'd more or less know ahead of time who was going to die, brutally and Darwinistically - the old and weak perished while the young, pretty, and witty survived. More recent examples of the genre have gleefully turned the formula on its head, keeping a plucky old guy alive and killing someone younger and stronger for the surprise. SI: Front Line works that way too, but Brian Reed manages to deliver a new twist to the game in its last few pages.

Throughout the issue, Ben Urich talks about wanting to get home to his wife, Doris. She was in the shower when he left that morning, and he forgot to say "I love you," on the way out the door. Nothing particularly novel so far; any movie-goer would tell you that Urich's the goner, right? But what we don't learn until the very end is that Doris has been very ill, and she passed away during the day her husband spent surviving the attack. We find Ben talking to his therapist, explaining how in the final hours he was just wandering the streets, muttering notes into his tape recorder, and realizing he could have just walked back home to his wife, could have been there in time, and he wasn't. He made notes for a story he now finds he can't even write.

It's a stunning death because it happens to a character we never see and for reasons entirely unrelated to the plot. It's perfectly foreshadowed but completely unexpected, like all the best literary surprises. And it matters, because Brian Reed has made sure that whether we knew him from previous Marvel Universe appearances or met him for the first time in this book, we care about Ben Urich. Reed makes a grand, colorful sci-fi epic into a beautifully sad, down-to-earth story about the life that slips past us when we're looking at the big picture.

- JC

Ultimate Spider-Man #131

In Ultimate Spider-Man #131, Brian Michael Bendis delivers a great tie-in issue to the Ultimatum storyline (which I haven't read yet). To get a solid stand-alone that works with the overarching plot, Bendis treats Ultimatum as a really good disaster movie - you don't have to worry about exactly what Magneto's doing or what's happening elsewhere, all you know is that New York has been hit by a giant tidal wave. Large parts of the city have been destroyed and people are in danger everywhere, but Spider-Man is still muddling through. Bendis gives us the little character moments we love without having to worry about the backstory happening in other books.

The most beautiful character moment in this issue is a paradigm shift for J. Jonah Jameson. In a gorgeous two-page spread by Stuart Immonen, Jameson stares out of the Bugle office at the city underwater and sees Spider-Man diving down to save someone. He finally realizes that Spider-Man isn't a self-serving menace in tights, but a true hero even in the face of disaster. As the newspaper staff scramble to make some sense of what's happening, JJJ sits down to write his first ever pro-Spider-Man editorial.

If Ultimatum is suppose to redefine the Ultimate universe as distinct from #616, this could be a fantastic opportunity. I've seen JJJ scale back his Spidey hate in the interest of not losing Spider-Man fans as readers, but I haven't seen him actually believe in the good Spider-Man does. It would be great to see Bendis explore this new attitude and see what that does for Jameson's character.

[At this time, I would like to note that an editorial shift in the paper of record could have significant impact on how the public feels about Spider-Man and the positive effects on Peter Parker's life, but my brilliant fiance didn't even consider those things, just that Jameson as a supporting cast member has had a change of mind. So there you go. - RD]

There are several other beautiful two-page spreads throughout the issue, contributing further to the epic movie feel - the art is great, since it's Immonen, and, since it's Bendis, the pages are all focused on something about the people in the shot. We get more crossover components with the Hulk appearing briefly and Peter finding a way to make him part of the solution rather than the problem. Aunt May's first (of many, we hope) encounter with Spider-Woman is also a treat.

And chillingly, Ultimate Daredevil's death, though it may be a large part of other books, is seen from this angle as a throwaway scene. It's a sign that this disaster is so huge that heroes are dying off-camera, and the ones left behind can't spare the time to honor them - there's still too much work to do.

- JC