The Official Handbook As You've Never Seen It Before

The magnificient kazekage has recently completed an absolutely brilliant takedown of Marvel's Official Handbook circa 1980-something-or-other.

THRILL! To the Hulk trying to explain the nature of Ronan the Accuser's "Universal Weapon"!

GASP! At the risque description of Captain America's motorcycle!

LOL! At haikus revealing the hidden link between Karnak and Johnny Carson!

"But Diana," you ask, "how much does such an amazing package cost?"

Well, friends, you're in luck! Act now and you can read the Whole Damn Thing here for the low, low cost of $0.00! You can't beat those prices! Not even with Ronan's Universal Weapon!

Brand New Brand New Day

There's really only one appropriate response to this:

A Few Words on Comics

Yes, stop the presses, Diana has something to say about the funnybooks again.

I'm at a point where my monthly reading list is down to almost nothing: I've got Mike Carey's "X-Men: Legacy", "Fables" and "Jack of Fables", and Peter David's "X-Factor", and to be quite honest, I could probably drop the latter three without feeling too badly. It's been a year, almost down to the day, since I quit the Savage Critics out of sheer apathy for the mainstream. I don't even bother with the news websites anymore.

In short, I've lost faith in comics. There was a time, not too long ago, where it seemed like a more mature, sophisticated kind of storytelling was on the rise; talented and unorthodox writers were pulling various properties out of stagnation and telling new, interesting stories. Instead, the past six or seven years have been spent in rapid regression across the board, with Marvel and DC degenerating into a distressingly-warped fraternity mindset that panders not to its audience but to itself. I've seen instances of bad judgment that utterly confound me: Batman pissing himself, Spider-Man selling his wife to Satan, Superman reconnecting with America by walking around, rage kitties, radioactive sperm, costumes with spikes on the inside, and more contrived writer's fiat than the Bible.

The days of "X-Statix", "Runaways" and "Alias" are long gone.

But every once in a while, I get curious and pick up a new miniseries, just to see what's being done. Nine times out of ten I find nothing of interest, but sometimes I catch a real gem like "The Umbrella Academy" or "Iron Man: Noir". It's worth the effort.

This week I picked up the second issue of "Neonomicon", written by Alan Moore.

Now, I have a complicated relationship with the works of Alan Moore. On the one hand, his stories have changed the way I perceive comics - and I'm not just referring to the obvious ones. No, I'm talking about "Miracleman", "The Ballad of Halo Jones", "Top 10" - stories that have nowhere near the level of recognition you'd find for "Watchmen" or "V For Vendetta", but are powerful and brilliant works nevertheless. On the other hand, it's no secret that Moore's apparently gone mad, content to publish lesbian slashfic and utterly impenetrable odes to Victorian literature.

I should also note that "Neonomicon" is published by Avatar, which I'll admit should've set off some warning bells. But still, I thought, it's Alan Moore. Surely he's got something clever up his sleeve - or at the very least, something worth reading.

What I found was a nonsense plot that aims for Lovecraft and hits Uwe Boll, concluding with a horrific gang-rape scene that goes on and on for five pages. It's explicit, it's vile, it's gratuitous, it's something Garth Ennis would've claimed as his own with great beaming pride.

Brought to you by Alan Moore.

The fact that I find myself physically disgusted by the work of a creator I once idolized is rather depressing. The thought that I can no longer distinguish between an Alan Moore story and a Garth Ennis story seems even worse. Like a death knell for... not the glory days per se, but the hope that the glory days could come around again. Instead, the old titans have gone mad and their replacements are puerile twats, and right now, as I desperately struggle to forget this awful, awful book, I can't help but feel like it's just one more justification to be done with the mainstream once and for all.

Movie Review: Batman - Under The Red Hood

There's a rather unfortunate trend going on when it comes to Batman: as the song goes, "can't read his, can't read his, no you can't read his poker face." Whether it's comics or direct-to-DVD animated movies like this latest WB offering, Batman has become a complete and utter cipher in recent years; beyond secretive, beyond unexpressive, beyond stoic. And, in my opinion, this has stripped away the character's most endearing quality: his humanity.

It's certainly true that Batman has never been the kind of superhero who wears his emotions on his sleeve. But what made him so appealing to me was precisely the fact that every now and then, the mask would slip. (Can't find any clips, but basically, any early episode of the Timm/Dini series that featured Two-Face demonstrates this quite nicely.)

That doesn't happen anymore. And "Under The Red Hood" is a perfect example of the result. Spoilers ahoy.

On paper, this should've had an emotional payload that would put "Mask of the Phantasm" or "I Am The Night" to shame. Jason Todd, Batman's second sidekick (and his self-proclaimed "greatest failure") was brutally murdered by the Joker. Five years later, the titular Red Hood emerges to wage war against Gotham crimelord the Black Mask, as well as Batman himself. He's fast, he's smart, and he knows every move Batman makes. A DNA sample just confirms what Bruce already suspects: Jason, his lost Robin, has been resurrected. And he's out for blood.

In terms of straight-up action, this one does quite well for itself, much like the previous "Crisis on Two Earths": the best and most effective scenes are the ones where the Red Hood effortlessly evades Batman's standard attempts to capture him, showing an awareness of the Dark Knight's tactics that's beyond even his oldest enemies.

The voice talent is a bit uneven - I'll admit my difficulties in accepting anyone other than Kevin Conroy and Mark Hamill as the voices of Batman and Joker, respectively, but Bruce Greenwood acquits himself quite well. John DiMaggio's Joker is quite different - the manic edge is intact, but there's a much darker and threatening undertone to this version, which suits the plot and atmosphere perfectly. I'd say the only real weak link is Jensen Ackles' Red Hood/Jason: he just doesn't reach the emotional high notes that the dialogue demands, especially in that pivotal scene where Jason finally reveals his real motives.

And that actually leads me to the biggest problem with this whole movie: there's no emotional core. The setup is there, and there are some very poignant flashbacks (the very last scene is the only one that moved me, as it really drove home the underlying tragedy of the whole story), but Batman doesn't react - at all - to the impossible return of his surrogate son. He's not horrified, he's not upset, he's not the slightest bit grateful that Jason's back. Even that critical moment where he explains why he didn't "avenge" Jason's death is delivered in the same flat monotone used when analyzing clues at a crime scene.

Bearing in mind that I haven't read the original storyline, I'm going out on a limb here and guessing that that utter lack of emotional response to the situation is something that was drawn from the comics themselves; if that's the case, then more's the pity. The failure of "Under the Red Hood" is that it promises a story that cuts to the heart of Batman the person, rather than just Batman the superhero, and it doesn't deliver any of that. So much more could have been done on that level, and instead we get explosions and shoot-outs and violent physical combat. Exciting, yes... but dramatically satisfying? Not even close.

Planet Hulk

I'm prefacing this review by saying that my expectations for "Planet Hulk", and the standards to which I held it, may have been a bit too high.

If I had to boil down Greg Pak's 14-part epic (15 if you include the Gladiator Guidebook, 16 if you include "Giant-Size Hulk"), I'd say it's characterized by missed opportunities. There was, I believe, a very solid premise at the heart of the story: the Hulk crash-lands on an alien world ruled by a monarchy that bears more than a passing resemblance to the Roman Empire, with slaves, gladiators and a Caligula-esque Emperor. Our hero is then enslaved, only to become a star gladiator and reluctant hero to the people, a figurehead around whom a resistance forms. Meanwhile, he befriends kindred souls - "monsters" similar to himself - and they forge "warbonds" that hold them together as a band of rebels. It's basically Spartacus in Space. Original? No, but as I said, it's a solid angle and fertile ground for good stories.

But Pak can't seem to make the most of what he's got. The biggest problem, IMO, is contrivance: things happen at the drop of a pin, with little or no set-up (ie: the Emperor goes crazy, Hulk gets a girlfriend, a bomb that sat around patiently for 13 issues suddenly goes off for no visible reason, etc.). Characterization is also deeply flawed, in that Pak's interpretation of the Hulk is even more erratic than he usually is, shifting motivations and goals at random intervals, and while this could have been attributed to the split personality aspect of the character, it's not clear if that's how we're supposed to interpret it. This has, I suppose, long been a problem with the Hulk, one of the more villainous heroes in the bunch - you can probably rely on him to show decency and heroism when it really, really matters, but he's also got the capacity to behave like an overwhelmingly obnoxious ass. Peter David balanced that out nicely by really exploring the Hulk's pathos; Pak forgoes any in-depth examination of the cast members, which only makes the story's developments seem even more forced.

It all goes back to pacing, and this is where I think I might be a little spoiled, because I read "Planet Hulk" shortly after finishing "Narbonic", a marvel of meticulous exactitude - every strip, every arc, every subplot was perfectly measured out and planned. By comparison, I can't help but feel like Pak was given lots of space - we're talking over a year's worth of issues here - and didn't do enough with it. His villains are two-dimensional (the Emperor in particular is a caricature), his heroes are stick figures (what, at the end of the day, can we really say about Elloe or Hiroim other than they're cliche archetypes?), and the lead-in to "World War Hulk" could only have turned out more contrived if Joe Quesada had materialized out of the ether, shoved Hulk into a rocket and blasted him off to Earth, Superman-style.

And now I'm starting to wonder if I've been wrong to endorse Pak all this time based on what he did with "Phoenix: Endsong" - if the "Warsong" sequel and "Planet Hulk" are any indication, he's not quite the bastion of talent he initially appeared to be.

Passing Sentences #3

Rome, Heroes of the Republic: This episode marks the mid-season point, and it's been a pretty wild ride so far. In five weeks, we've jumped from Caesar's assassination to the birth of the Second Triumvirate; Vorenus went Dark Side, Octavian got a full-body makeover, Brutus lost his mind, Timon found religion, and Atia and Servilia decided to stop playing nice, because encouraging incest and having your enemy stripped and humiliated in the streets just isn't permanent enough.

It's rushed, no question about it. I accept that, because there's no choice; HBO has a limited amount of episodes to get us from last season's end-point (Caesar's death) to the next optimal jumping-off point (Augustus), while keeping every other plotline from the previous season running. But even with (necessary) compression wreaking havoc on the timeline and on balanced screen-time (Eirene who?), I'm constantly amazed at how nuanced "Rome" can be. To wit, I realized the other day that there's a near-constant tension between the characters as they are now and as they were when the story began. It's as if they're all caught in a state of flux, vacillating between their past and present selves. Octavian reaches adulthood and makes it on his own, only to become his mother's puppet again. Vorenus and Pullo have practically swapped bodies - now Pullo's the domestic, moral man while Vorenus steeps himself in violence, darkness and sex. Brutus plunges into the depths of guilt and anguish, and comes out the other side leading an army, just as he did before (and more importantly, just as his ancestors did, and just as Servilia expects him to).

And that whole mess is a microcosm of Rome itself, caught in the tides of history, going back and forth between the Republic of the past and the Empire of the future, and nobody's sure what they're supposed to do or where they're supposed to stand.

I'm really going to miss this show when it's gone.

Heroes, Run!: Not quite as fulfilling as I'd hoped, because the plot only mimicked forward movement without really going anywhere. So, yeah, Nathan is Claire's father, but she doesn't even see him or get his name. Meredith's a golddigger who's set to disappear again. Hiro and Ando get sidetracked again. "Mohinder's List" starts rolling, and it just serves to pull Sylar in so he'll be involved in an ongoing plotline. Matt and Jessica throw down, and you'd think something huge would happen there, but... well, no. So it's more or less an exercise in wheel-spinning.

Veronica Mars, Postgame Mortem: O-kay, now we've got another multi-episode murder investigation involving both Keith and Veronica, on top of the ongoing Dean O'Dell mystery, concerning a character we've seen exactly once before. Hmm. Then again, both cases progressed this week, while accomodating a rather cute Logan sequence where he gets his groove back thanks to the little God Girl from "Joan of Arcadia". Not so bad, then.

Supernatural, Tall Tales: Another really good one, though for completely different reasons than last week. Bobby arrives to find the Winchester boys bickering and at a total loss regarding their current case, which seems to involve everything from vengeful spirits to alien abductions. Dean and Sam alternately fill Bobby in through flashbacks, though each brother puts his own spin on the story (I can't believe I'm saying this, but excellent acting from both Ackles and Padalecki - and hey, that's two finger-snaps in a row for the Pads!). It's a very lighthearted episode, a surprising but welcome relief from the unrelenting angst of season 2 so far. Not that the angst hasn't been good, in moderation, but it's nice to get a little something different now and again.

Man of the Year: I've always ever had the one problem with Robin Williams - he has a certain way of line-delivery (especially the ones with comedic slants) that just blurs together all the characters he's ever played. I look at Tom Dobbs and I see Patch Adams, Philip Brainard, Alan Parrish, Peter Banning and Daniel Hilliard. It's not that he isn't funny on occasion (though I wasn't especially amused by this film), it's that I never get the feeling he's actually separating the roles in his head, as opposed to just pulling out one generic character and slapping multiple names on it.

Starsky and Hutch: While channel-surfing late last night, I stumbled onto two episodes of "Starsky and Hutch", the series finale and an episode where Hutch is forcibly addicted to heroin. I doubt I'm going to go looking for more, but it was okay, a nice way to pass some time. And those two were so doing it. :)

Thunderbolts: I said I'd give Warren Ellis two issues. I did. And I still have no idea whether this is working for me or not. I think I'll err on the side of caution for now (also, Ellis, not exactly batting a million these days) and drop it.

Batman: Dark Moon Rising: Still on the subject of comics - awesome stories by Matt Wagner (was there ever any doubt?), very evocative of Miller circa Year One without making the common mistake of aping him so closely the thing descends into parody (see: "Spider-Man: Reign"). And I was all set to give this the big review and the many praises it deserves, but then I'd just get depressed that something like "Dark Moon Rising" is the exception and not the rule, and why hasn't anyone signed Wagner on for more work, huh? And where the fuck are those Grendel trades?! So let me just say that it's an excellent mini-series telling somewhat unconventional tales of the Dark Knight, with a touch of the old Grendel flair, and that just makes for fun reading. See, Dan DiDio? Batman can be fun! And we didn't run screaming like our hair's on fire! Try it sometimes!

Comics Review: SBC

This post collects most of my reviews for Silver Bullet Comic Books, from April to October 2006.

Amazing Spider-Girl #0: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/116040322783410.htm

X-Men: Phoenix - Warsong #2: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/116040292314977.htm

Captain America #22: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115981703348519.htm

Wetworks #1: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115919311932961.htm

Wonder Woman #2: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115688290882681.htm

Astonishing X-Men #16: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115677624517872.htm

Martian Manhunter #1: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/11558609471665.htm

Y: The Last Man #48: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115503685925697.htm

Jack of Fables #1: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115443955093090.htm

Spider-Girl #100: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/11531478281995.htm

X-Men #188: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115314702455448.htm

All-New Atom #1: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115263591867929.htm

Uncanny X-Men #475: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115253794415996.htm

Batman #654: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115195458748305.htm

Astonishing X-Men #15: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115106697667696.htm

Fables #50: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/1150756374370.htm

Exiles #82: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115075617248180.htm

Hard Time #7: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115021006071482.htm

Wonder Woman #1 (fourth one down): http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/115002299293298.htm

Manifest Eternity #1: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114985452434732.htm

Runaways #16: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114961117287315.htm

Son of M #6: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114930571266735.htm

X-Statix: Dead Girl #5: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114916588969291.htm

Exiles #81: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114891922584613.htm

X-Men: Fairy Tales #1: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114830234886180.htm

Fables #49: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114745793711433.htm

New X-Men #26: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114734943927473.htm

Hard Time #6: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114720870991986.htm

Exiles #79-80: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114710086365581.htm

X-Factor #6: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114839068661482.htm

Captain America #16-17: http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/reviews/114734928751619.htm

Vivat Grendel!

I'm way too disoriented to write a coherent review of Matt Wagner's "Grendel", so here are some points I thought were interesting:

1. Of all the "primary" Grendels, Christine Spar is my favorite. Not just because she was the only woman to don the mask, but because she's arguably the only one whose actions aren't tinged with madness. Hunter Rose was damaged from the start, Brian Li Sung and Eppy Thatcher were completely insane, and even Orion Assante eventually sees himself as being possessed by the devil. We don't know much about Grendel-Prime, but I imagine you'd have to be pretty screwed up to turn yourself into the Toaster of Doom. Christine is ultimately the only protagonist Wagner justifies - her actions are morally ambiguous, but her intentions and motivations are nothing short of heroic. It's that kind of complexity that makes "Grendel" such an enjoyable, rewarding read.

2. I have never seen another comic deal with the themes of legacy, succession, evolution and chronological ellipses as well as "Grendel". It occurs to me that "Miracleman" might have gone that far, had it run its course, but we'll never know. As it stands, I can't help but be impressed by the sheer scale of the Grendel Saga: in fifty-one issues (including "Devil By The Deed", "War Child" and "Devil Quest"), he spans a period of seven hundred and twenty years. And it's the same world, changed to the point where it's almost unrecognizable save for trace hints that recall the past. That's real vision, right there.

3. Wagner could have ended Grendel with "War Child": the bad guys are defeated, proper rule is restored, all's right with the world. In fact, most of the online resources I've found seem to do just that: in summarizing/detailing the stories, "War Child" is often the last entry. But that's not where the chronology ends, with Jupiter I's coronation on a bright and sunny day; it ends with a half-destroyed Grendel-Prime shooting a man for no reason and riding off into the darkness, the Grendel Empire in ruins. I can understand the desire to exclude "Devil's Quest" - it's just a backup story, and if you read it expecting closure or a finale of some kind you'll be sorely disappointed. Hell, you could even make the argument that it's not a complete story, as it serves to lead into some horrid Batman/Grendel crossover I refuse to read on principle. It's not particularly uplifting either, and I don't know that it makes any significant extension of the series' core premise and themes. Except... well, entropy exists in Wagner's worldview. If there's one thing that's consistent for every incarnation of Grendel, it's that things fall apart: personally, socially, psychologically, globally. Pellon Cross starts out as a driven vampire messiah and turns into a bloated, useless mess. America is ruled by corporations, then the Catholic Church, then the Grendel-Khan, each system breaking down in turn to make way for the next. Christine Spar's life crumbles until she has nothing left. It's the very epitome of the Wheel of Fortune, and in that context "Devil Quest" cannot be ignored, because it's the inevitable culmination of everything that came before it. It's not Wagner's best work, broken-up and disorganized as it is, but maybe that was the plan all along: to have the narrative itself in a state of decay mirroring the setting depicted within.

4. Of all the "Grendel Tales" spin-offs, the only one I really liked was "Devil Child", the in-depth look at Stacy Palumbo. The flip-side of this is I think the Hunter Rose minis ("Black White and Red" and "Red White and Black") were a terrible mistake. There was always something suitably enigmatic about the fact that Hunter Rose has no voice: "Devil By The Deed" presents his story as told by Christine, who got it from Stacy and a bunch of other sources, but Hunter himself is silent, inscrutable. This changes both in "Devil Child" and in the Hunter Rose minis, with one major difference: "Devil Child" is narrated by Stacy, and begins after Hunter's death. In other words, she's already going mad, and anything she tells the readers is subject to dispute. This is brilliantly emphasized by writer Diana Schutz when Stacy tells the story of her rape four or five different ways; she herself can't reconcile what really happened, so how can we trust anything she says about Hunter Rose? And unlike Rose himself, I think there was room for another look at Stacy, because her own mysteriousness was meant to affect Christine, not the reader, if that makes any sense. In other words, it's important that we not know too much about Hunter, but it was only important that Christine not know too much about her mother. By contrast, Wagner's direct depictions of Rose in his prime tend to fall short of the figure built up to such mythical proportions in "Devil By The Deed". We even get a lot of repetition, the Jocasta Rose sequence retold two or three times without significant variation or revelation. And all the other Grendel Tales... well, this is disturbing, because despite the many writers who contributed, somehow all the plots involve an instantaneous romance between two unlikely and poorly-fleshed out figures, with Grendel in the distant background. More often than not, the characters simply aren't compelling enough to hold the story.

5. My favorite moment in the series: the end of "The Devil Inside", the moment where two narratives seamlessly merge into one, and Brian's last words mix with those of Grendel. "I am not afraid to die. For I shall live FOREVER." Absolutely chilling.

And that's about it for now. It was an intense reading experience, one I found immensely and uniquely gratifying.

Comics Review: March 24

X-Factor #5

Not much to say about this one. The ongoing plots are put on hold for this standalone story ostensibly starring Siryn, but focusing on a rather typical "crazy ex-mutant" type we've never seen before and will never see again. Somehow, Nutters knows X-Factor is investigating M-Day (did they put an ad in the paper? Did Oprah do a special?), but is convinced the X-Men caused it because none of them were affected. It doesn't make much sense, but then, he's crazy, so I suppose it's a moot point.

Curiously, the recap page describes the man who attacked Siryn as "an unknown assailant", despite the fact that Peter David went to the trouble of posting a clarification of the previous issue on his blog, indicating it was Damian Tryp and we were all too stupid to figure it out. I suppose this little mix-up is our fault as well. *shrug*

At any rate, it's nothing we haven't seen before: self-pitying psycho rants and whines about his lost powers, Theresa gets tortured, and Rictor saves the day. The end. I suppose it's serviceable, but not much more than that. I think I'll give this series one more issue to win me over before dropping it.

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Exiles: World Tour - Squadron Supreme (#77-78)

The World Tour Saga enters its second half with a visit to the Squadron Supreme universe, once Marvel's answer to DC's Justice League, now superceded by J. Michael Straczynski's "Supreme Power", which has recently been renamed "Squadron Supreme" and does not interact with the Marvel Universe, though it will soon be crossing over with the Ultimate Marvel universe.

Got all that? Me neither. Just go with it. ;)

To Tony Bedard's credit, he's still doing his absolute best to avoid repetition; after several encounters with the Exiles, Proteus realizes he can't outfight or evade them, and instead manipulates them into a conflict with the Squadron Supreme using Mimic's stolen memories. The two teams almost immediately throw down, and Proteus slips away unnoticed.

The rest of the story is given over to the Squadron putting the Exiles on trial for crimes against the Multiverse. I'm a bit ambivalent towards this; on the one hand, it's a nice diversion from the main plot, and a proper follow-up to "Timebreakers". But on the other hand, the Squadron really come off as complete nimrods here, trusting and distrusting people with neither rhyme nor reason. Consequently, it's hard not to see them as the incompetent, hypocritical villains of the piece - and yet, they're the heroes of their world. The fact that most of them aren't characterized (due to the absolutely immense and unwieldy size of the cast) doesn't help.

The Exiles' interaction with the Squadron Supreme reality feels even more restricted than their stay in 2099. On the level of the plot, Bedard provides a valid reason for this - the battles with Proteus have been disrupting timelines the Exiles were never meant to visit, and the damage is starting to accumulate. This was something readers were picking up on (particularly considering what the absence of Miguel O'Hara meant for the future of 2099), so it's nice that Bedard was able to anticipate that concern. But I imagine the nostalgic value for fans of these old, defunct alternate realities is diminished.

As a minor aside, Heather is yet again written as the Grand Poobah of Exposition, giving us a two-way scene that explains the Squadron to the Exiles and vice-versa - as with previous infodumps, this one was necessary, but it's starting to grow stale.

A flawed read, then, and not one of the highlights of the World Tour. In retrospect, perhaps the more densely-populated timelines should have been left alone, or allocated more issues: there are just too many pins in the air, even for a skilled juggler like Bedard. It ends up feeling cramped, compressed and ineffective. I expect the upcoming "Future Imperfect" segment will be vastly improved, since it's really all about the Maestro - which means there will be a lot more room to breathe.

Comics Review: March 18

Ultimate X-Men: Date Night (66-68)

For this week, it's Robert Kirkman's debut on "Ultimate X-Men".

The good news first: conceptually speaking, Kirkman is on solid ground. He pulls off a reinterpretation (or "Ultimization", if you will) at least on par with Vaughan; the best kind of revamp, where your familiarity with the original character colors how you perceive the new version, thus allowing the writer to play tricks with reader expectations. "Date Night" introduces us to Ultimate Lilandra - not exactly someone you'd expect to find, but Kirkman makes it work. He also adds some interesting twists concerning the Sabretooth/Wolverine relationship and the Phoenix, which apparently foreshadow future storylines.

Character-wise, Kirkman is largely following Vaughan's lead: you've got the friendship between Ororo and Logan, Kurt being deeply uncomfortable with Peter's homosexuality, and Scott trying to adapt to Jean's expectations (but is he really doing it of his own volition? Or is Jean "suggesting" a little too strongly?). However, he stumbles a bit with Kitty (who comes off as a self-centered brat, not quite in line with previous depictions), and Rogue and Bobby... well, it misses a note somewhere. They basically reset to status quo between them, except a lot happened to her while she was away and Kirkman doesn't really deal with that.

And now the bad news: despite solid ideas, Kirkman fails to overcome the greatest problem he faces as a writer - he's about as engaging as watching hair grow on Laura Bush's chin. There's no excitement here, no thrill. Fights are cut short, deeply personal conversations are completely cliche, and if there's supposed to be a foreboding air around the Church of Shi'ar Enlightenment, Kirkman doesn't project it well.

This is something that has always characterized Kirkman's writing as far as I can tell: as an "idea man", he's passably average, but when it comes to dramatizing those ideas, he does so in the most boring ways imaginable. Those that can appreciate his work purely on the level of "hey, that's a nice idea" will probably get more out of this, but if you're looking to be entertained, it might be best if you go elsewhere.

EDIT: I don't expect things will get any better. Even after we get rid of Kirkman, we'll still have Singer. This book is dropped.

Comics Review: March 11

Short ones this week, work's been piling up...

Fables: The Ballad of Rodney and June (46-47)

After the intricate complexities of the "Arabian Nights" storyline, Bill Willingham shifts gears and delivers a short, charming and deceptively simple side-story about two of the Adversary's wooden servants who fall in love, and can't consummate their relationship unless their creator agrees to make them flesh and blood. While it's nominally a touching little romance, Willingham actually goes a bit further than I expected; what we get here is a perspective that hasn't really been examined before, as the whole story focuses on the points of view of the wooden soldiers. We learn a bit about how they think, and the Adversary again demonstrates that he isn't the evil overlord we initially believed him to be. He also eschews the typical storybook ending, and goes for the more realistic idea that getting what you want only leads to different problems. And it's left to the reader to decide whether these characters are better off now than they were before.

Even though it's only a filler story that doesn't advance any of the ongoing subplots, "The Ballad of Rodney and June" is a very enjoyable read.

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Hard Time #4

Continuing with the theme of pausing the momentum for a different kind of story, Steve Gerber temporarily puts the ongoing intrigues at the state jail on hold to give us Cindy's backstory. The framing device is Cole reading "her" diary to find out about Cutter, whose charisma has snared both Cindy and Hardin (an eerie echo of Deshon and the preacher last season, which Cole explicitly brings up). Gerber's choice of segments in Cindy's history is interesting, because he doesn't pick the most relevant selections: the diary goes all the way back to kindergarten and stops shorts of actually explaining why Cindy's in prison to begin with. We can probably guess what happened given the information at hand, but that's as far as the story goes.

On the whole, it does seem a bit of a misstep; Gerber focuses primarily on Cindy's gender issues, which were perfectly apparent the moment "she" debuted. Strictly speaking, we haven't learned anything we couldn't have pieced together on our own. Then again, Cindy's past appearances always placed "her" in the function of appendage, both literally and metaphorically - attached to whichever character or subplot was dominating the issue. Here, Cindy is situated within the larger Cutter storyline, but is also given an independent narrative for the first time. It'll be interesting to see where this leads.

Comics Review: March 6

X-Factor #4

This issue concludes the series' introductory arc, as the conflict between X-Factor and Singularity Investigations crystallizes (though Singularity is still coming off much more like an evil law firm than a rival detective agency - since when do investigators protect clients from murder charges?). Meanwhile, the Mutant Town riots force Strong Guy, Wolfsbane and Siryn to stake a claim they may not be able to enforce, M solves the Santiago case on her own, and Layla... well, she knows stuff.

It all comes together nicely, but I find I'm not completely sold on "X-Factor" just yet - it feels like Peter David is trying to juggle one too many plots, especially for an opening storyline. And the balance between these various subplots would seem to contradict the book's stated premise: it's been classified as a detective series, but the Santiago case is relegated to the backburner in favor of the cloak-and-dagger machinations of Singularity and the enigma of Layla Miller. What should have been a four-issue mystery becomes three issues of "our client has been arrested" followed by a brief and speedy fix that does not emerge from any kind of detective work.

Again, the problem is that PAD insists on making "X-Factor" an explicit event spinoff; that is to say, in addition to all the potential storylines you could extract from the "mutant detective" angle alone, he's also dealing with "House of M"/"Decimation" fallout in its various forms. At the same time, it's debatable whether anyone at Marvel sees this series as a vehicle for that agenda: Joe Quesada would probably maintain that "Deadly Genesis" is the primary "Decimation" series, purely in terms of direct relevance to upcoming stories. PAD ends up caught in his own snare: he's writing a fringe book that's desperately trying to thrust itself into the mainstream by promising to address plot threads that belong in other books. That's all well and good in the short term, but it doesn't make for much of a long-term plan.

The question I've been struggling with since I started reading this series is "Where is this book going?" After four issues, I still can't seem to find a definitive answer. The writing is still well above average, which is why I'm sticking around for now, but I don't see "X-Factor" surviving very long unless it defines itself in opposition to the generic X-book, by offering something the other books don't.

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Sentinel Vol. 2 (5 issues)

I enjoyed Sean McKeever's first run of "Sentinel" quite a bit, back in the old Tsunami days. It represented a rarity in Marvel at the time: Bill Jemas having a good idea. Specifically, it was something of a trend during his regime to tell Marvel Universe stories without the explicit tropes and presence of the Marvel Universe. For example, the first volume of "Runaways" had the Avengers on TV, or radio broadcasts about the Fantastic Four, but these icons were always very distant from the protagonists. It was a ground-level view of Marvel superheroes, lower even than Phil Sheldon from Busiek's "Marvels" because he still participates in that world. Someone like Juston Seyfert or the X-Statix are in the Marvel Universe but not of the Marvel Universe. In other words, their stories were their own, and if you were familiar enough to see another layer of context, well, that was your reward for being a loyal Marvel reader.

This practice has more or less fallen apart under the Buckley administration. The second run of "Runaways" kicked off with guest-stars galore, and while Vaughan has promised an end to that for the forseeable future, it doesn't change what's already seen print. In fact, the greater movement trend-wise seems to be going back to the concept of a shared universe, one book's subplots intruding on another's, that sort of thing. Frankly, I find the idea dreadful - its advocates justify their arguments by claiming it worked in the '60s and made Marvel what it is today, which misses the obvious counter-point: Marvel was much smaller then. It's much easier to coordinate twelve books by six writers than sixty books by forty writers plus the Hollywood brigade. It's just begging for disaster. Leaving that aside, is a shared universe really the answer to Marvel's problems? It worked way back in the Time That Land Forgot because the characters were the selling point; it was a very big deal if Namor suddenly appeared in "X-Men". But that paradigm eventually gave way to the Dark Decade of the '90s, where artists became the star attraction. These days, the writers are the ones who push the book, whose names are used to draw attention. Which J. Michael Straczynski doesn't need to write a pointless one-panel scene where Peter Parker's spider-sense goes off in "Amazing Spider-Man", just to acknowledge the return of Apocalypse in Peter Milligan's "X-Men" - nobody cares.

You'll notice that I haven't actually said anything about the recent "Sentinel" miniseries yet. This is because, tangent aside, there's very, very little to say about it. Having received an extension over a year after the first series concluded, Sean McKeever then proceeds to jog in place for five issues. Oh, there's a big robot fight, and we learn the Sentinel's "secret origin", but by the end of the story Juston and the Sentinel are still together, his mother is still MIA, the CSA is still in the dark, Jessie is still just a friend... there's no closure, no change, the story goes right back to status quo. It doesn't even resolve the plot threads left over from the previous run. On the one hand, this was probably done with the possibility of a third sequel in mind... but I can't help feel a little cheated that this whole miniseries ends up treading water. Juston gets some development, but every other character remains more or less exactly where we left them, and there's no sense that anything especially significant ultimately happens. A bitter disappointment.

Comics Review: February 26

Captain America #15

After an exhaustive thirteen issues revolving around the Winter Soldier, Ed Brubaker takes a bit of time to explore an unrelated plot thread from the preceding storyline: the return of Synthia Schmidt, daughter of the Red Skull.

It's painfully apparent that we're dealing with some very convoluted continuity here. There's accelerated aging and de-aging, cloning, brainwashing... it's a bit of a mess, really. But Brubaker streamlines the history, telling us everything we need to know without turning it into a Marvel Handbook entry.

The catch, of course, is that there's simply too much backstory to relay, and the actual plot of the issue is a bit thin: Crossbones tortures Synthia until she breaks through her SHIELD reprogramming. That's about it, really; the rest of the issue is given over to the retelling of Synthia's story, both for her benefit and ours.

Still, the end result is achieved, reintroducing the character and setting her up as a new antagonist for Captain America. It's a bit ironic, actually, because according to Crossbones' story she was always meant to replace the Red Skull, but she never got the chance because he survived. In fact, Brubaker may have inadvertantly undermined Synthia himself - we know what she and Crossbones don't, that the Red Skull is alive in some capacity. Which means we already see her as an also-ran, rather than a genuine heir.

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Academy X: Childhood's End (20-23)

To avoid confusion with the Grant Morrison run (and also because there's only one "New X-Men" for me and this ain't it), I'll be using the alternative title of this series.

"Childhood's End" marks the beginning of the Craig Kyle/Christopher Yost run. These were the writers responsible for the "X-23: Innocence Lost" miniseries, which was surprisingly good. It's also one of the few ongoing X-books that underwent a major change, both stylistically and with relation to the core premise itself, as a result of "Decimation".

I'm only passingly familiar with the Weir/DeFilipis run that preceded this storyline, but even in the book's previous incarnation as "New Mutants", it was clear that their approach was problematic at best. Originally set during the Grant Morrison years, the remit was to focus on the expanded student body - fair enough, and to their credit the writers did manage to come up with a wide variety of mutants. Unfortunately, none of them were particularly compelling, since the heavy-handed teen melodrama tended to reduce characters to stock types, for the sake of efficiency. Even after the book was restarted and revamped during the Reload of 2004, nothing particularly changed... in fact, by the end of their run, Weir and DeFilipis were dealing with a cast of almost thirty students, and that's not even including the various X-Men who popped up from time to time.

Based on "Childhood's End", Kyle and Yost seem to be veering this book away from the 90210 paradigm. In fact, their first storyline strikes me as much more in line with the original "New Mutants" series than anything Weir and DeFilipis came up with, ostensibly because they never understood the need to balance the love triangles and the petty rivalries with the fact that these were mutant superheroes in training.

This arc actually makes for a good jumping-on point, because it's largely devoted to dismantling the Weir/DeFilipis run. It's a story that starts with, and is dominated by, destruction; and for the purposes of this introductory arc, you don't have to know who these people are beyond the obvious, because everything is being redefined anyway. It begins with M-Day, leaving multiple characters depowered and quietly shipped off. Then Reverend Stryker (of Claremont's "God Loves, Man Kills") makes a comeback, and the death toll starts rising. X-23 joins the cast, and is relegated to the periphery (assuaging many readers' fears that she'd take over the book a la "Supergirl and the Legion of Superheroes"). Meanwhile, Emma Frost sets up a brutal competition to whittle down the cast even further.

Like their previous collaboration, "Childhood's End" is a very solid story. A bit padded, especially with the rather pointless "Danger Cave" sequence, but overall it achieves its goal, generates interest, and uses the "Decimation" premise to great success. Proof, I suppose, that if you want to grow a good crop, you need manure. Future arcs will, of course, require a closer focus on whoever's left standing when the dust settles, but for now characterization isn't an issue (though Stryker is rather over-the-top with the Bible-thumping speeches). Issue 23 ends with a cliffhanger leading directly into the next storyline, which promises to bring the Stryker/Purifiers story to a head.

Comics Review: February 20

For this week, we've got a standalone story from Brian Vaughan in "Runaways", featuring Molly Hayes, the youngest member of the group. Molly's been a rather problematic figure from the very beginning; barely 12 when the story started, it was clear that she wasn't quite on equal ground with the other teenaged characters, and this often pushed her to the periphery of the plot; token shows of strength and comic relief aside, she's probably the least-active Runaway, ostensibly because she rarely understands what's going on - she's not stupid, but her perspective is rightly limited by her youth.

Vaughan tries to solve this problem by temporarily taking the other Runaways out of the picture - this issue focuses exclusively on Molly herself, separated from the rest of the group. She basically falls headfirst into a 21st-century version of Charles Dickens' "Oliver Twist", as she's forcibly recruited by a Fagin-esque magician into a gang of underaged thieves. Molly, sweet and naive as she is, gets in a bit over her head, and has to figure out how to escape her captor and free the other kids.

It's a very atypical "Runaways" story because it's focalized through Molly, and as such it's significantly more simplistic than the book's usual tone. There are things we, the readers, can see that she doesn't, such as the fact that the Artful Dodgers are mirrors of what Molly might have become, had she been less fortunate in running away. There's no indication that she understands this, because Molly sees everything with the eyes of a child. But that point of view is what makes the last few pages of the story all the more heartbreaking; she is a child, and she has been through a lot since she and her friends discovered the truth about the Pride. And the fact that she's managed to retain innocence in such a situation makes her all the more endearing.

Character moments aside, the plot is a bit thin, but it's the calm before the storm, as next issue promises to kickstart the New Pride subplot that's been ticking over since the relaunch began.

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And this? http://images.comicbookresources.com/litg/obl.jpg

This is a thing of genius. Because it's probably be better than the product it's lampooning. :)

Old recs

Devin Grayson's "User": Quiet, down-to-earth, very heartfelt and well-written. It asks simple yet frightening questions about identity - personal, sexual, fabricated - and how we're never really what we say we are, or even think we are.

Kyle Baker's "Why I Hate Saturn": Kyle Baker's first and most hilarious graphic novel, full of manic energy and a surprisingly believable woman protagonist. What do you do when you've got lunatic millionaires trying to kill you, you can't get a date and your sister is Queen of the Leather Astro Girls of Saturn? Answer: road trip! :)

Frank Miller's "Martha Washington: Give Me Liberty": If the election of 2004 scared you, don't read this book. :) Martha Washington is a poor, black girl living in the ghettos. The higher she rises, the further the United States of America descends into corruption and decadence. The story suffers a bit for lack of a greater nemesis for Martha - but then, that was probably Miller's point, that for all her idealism there's not much she could do other than fight the personal battles.

Grant Morrison's "Kill Your Boyfriend": Grant Morrison playing Quentin Tarantino. Girl meets boy. Girl loves boy. Girl and boy go on mad killing spree. It's the love story Titanic should have been. :) One of the reasons I absolutely loved this story was because there's so much going on. On one level, it's a Tarantino romance where an average teenage girl falls in love with a dark and dangerous boy, and is swept up into his world of madness, murder and sex. Morrison goes for a modern-day interpretation of the Dionysius myth (more commonly known as Bacchus), but it's also a story of teenage rebellion taken to extremes, as the lovers break moral, judicial and sexual boundaries just because they can. Then there's the psuedo-philosophical debate on identities: the protagonists are unnamed. The Girl says it best: "We can be anyone." The problem, of course, is that no one really KNOWS who they want to be: the Girl's first boyfriend lives in a fantasy world, the politician is a cross-dresser, the "anarchists" can't bring themselves to actively cross the line and BECOME anarchists, the Girl's seemingly-normal family has corrupt secrets of its own... and the book itself reflects this confusion by not adhering to the conventions of a single genre. Of course, like all great romances, this one must end with tragedy. But we don't get a "Romeo and Juliet" moment where the lovers are united in death and a lesson is learned. The tragic separation of the lovers is compounded for the reader (but not the characters) when we learn something about the Boy that we didn't know before; and after the death, the other lover is prevented from following the same path by a twist of fate, and is forced to submit and become domesticated (though not without a hint of lingering defiance). And from the characters' perspective, that is the worst tragedy of all: to be shackled to a mundane existence after tasting true freedom.

Eric Shanower's "Age of Bronze": Forget "Troy". "Age of Bronze" is everything you ever wanted to know about the Trojan War. An uncensored, brutally honest and stirring account of what really led to the conflict that was eternalized in myth. A great read for people who thought "Troy" should have been more than slabs of beef parading about for the ladies (not that I had any complaints).

Brian Michael Bendis' "Jinx: The Definitive Collection": One of Bendis' earliest and finest works. Take three million dollars, two grifters and one world-weary bounty hunter. Add guns, explosions, a bunch of mallrats, gratuitous cursing, and Bendis getting shot in the brain, and you've got "Jinx".

Pat McGreal's "Veils": This beautiful graphic novel tells the story of a young English woman swept into an exotic, erotic world of magic and intrigue. On a visit to the Sultan's palace, Vivian Pearse-Packard is given a brief respite from her abusive husband in the harem. There, as her life story intertwines with that of a mythical queen, she embarks on a journey of discovery that will end in death... or glory beyond dreams.

Peter Kuper's "The System": Told entirely through visual art, without a single word bubble or caption, "The System" explores the interconnected lives of a group of city-dwellers who cross paths every day and never know it, even though they all have tremendous influence on each other.

Laini and Jim Di Bartolo's "The Drowned": A haunting tale of insanity, witchcraft and revenge. Theophile Finistere has spent the last five years in an asylum, tormented by shattered memories of his family and his home town. But when he is mysteriously compelled to escape, he finds himself tangled in the machinations of witches, demons, a cabal of warrior-priests and a loved one long thought dead. But what is real and what exists only in the broken delusions of a madman?

Pat McGreal's "I, Paparazzi": You might think being a paparazzi is all about stalking celebrities in their underwear, but for Jake McGowran, it's a way of life. But when he decides to go after the biggest, most powerful star in Hollywood, he gets in over his head and uncovers a horrible secret. Now he's being hunted by assassins, fashion models and conspiracy nuts, and worst of all, he's got a deadline... I really didn't know what to expect here: a renouncing of the controversial vocation through an unlikeable character? A glorification of celebrity and intrigue? This book's primary strength is its ability to keep you guessing; you're never sure exactly how to classify this book, even after the end. Is it an X-Files conspiracy story? A sci-fi thriller? Romance? Noir? A madman's dream? The ending is open enough to allow you your interpretation, but not so broad as to leave you without any conclusion whatsoever. The writer captures the world of the paparazzi very well and fleshes these star-stalkers out, makes them into human beings like anyone else. "I, Paparazzi" is an exhilirating ride that leaves you breathless and waiting for the next twist.

Warren Ellis' "Switchblade Honey": Warren Ellis writes, in his words, "The Anti-Star Trek". Sure, it'd be nice to think that by the 24th century mankind would be peaceful and benevolent and living in a tolerant utopia... but I wouldn't bet on it. A dark, intensely cynical look at what would happen if humanity reached the stars and stayed exactly as they were.

Frank Miller's "Ronin": In feudal Japan, a brave samurai gives his life to destroy his demonic archnemesis. Eight hundred years later, he is reborn into a world of technology and corruption, a world he can scarcely understand. Unknown to him, his nemesis has followed him into the future; and there, in the heart of a ruined metropolis, they will fight their final battle as the world crumbles around them. Interestingly, this book predates the popular cartoon "Samurai Jack", which used a very similar premise to great success.

Warren Ellis' "Ruins": The Marvel Universe is a place of wonders and heroes, a place where the fantastic is commonplace. But in another world, a heartbeat away from ours, radiation kills and mutation deforms, goddesses debase themselves and aliens wither away in concentration camps. Phil Sheldon (from Kurt Busiek's "Marvels") is unable to shake the feeling that this world is not right, and sets out to discover what could have gone so terribly wrong. Ellis masterfully dodges a rather fatal bullet, as his story was cut from four issues to two while he was writing it, leaving us with an abrupt ending... and yet, thematically, it's one which works perfectly.

Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning's "Tales of the Marvels: The Wonder Years": Cindy Knutz was just an ordinary girl... until Wonder Man saved her life. Now she's the newest member of his fan club and she can't stop thinking about him. The line between love and obsession blurs, as deep down she knows they're destined to meet again. Then he dies and leaves her life in shambles. Can she survive without him?

Bob Hall's "I, Joker": Centuries after the death of Bruce Wayne, Batman's legacy has been twisted beyond all recognition. In this dark and filthy Gotham of the future, the Batman is a tyrant-god who recreates his enemies once a year to participate in a brutal and bloody hunt. But this year something is different. This year "Joker's wild", and things are going to change. An interesting take on what happens to the legend of a superhero when he or she is long dead.

Peter David's "The Last Avengers Story": This is for anyone who might have found Bendis' "Chaos" to be a bit lacking (to put it mildly). Looking for a better swan song for Earth's Mightiest Heroes? PAD delivers in spades. Keep in mind, though, that it spins off a somewhat antiquated Avengers team.

Ed Brubaker's "Deadenders": A dystopian urban drama. Beezer is just another disillusioned kid living in the slums... but he has visions of a better world, a world that may or may not have existed once. His quest to discover their origin and meaning takes wonderfully unpredictable turns in this sixteen-part series. Highly recommended for anyone looking for something a little different.

Jason Lutes' "Jar of Fools" Failed magician Ernie Weiss is on the brink of total despair: his brother has died, his girlfriend has left him, and his mentor is slowly slipping into senility. A powerful story about fighting to hold on to the ones you love.

Peter Milligan's "Enigma": What would you do if your favorite comic book suddenly started playing itself out in reality? Michael Smith finds himself face to face with his childhood hero, the Enigma... but there's a lot more under that mask than anyone suspects. Very off-the-wall and bizarre - but then, we wouldn't want Milligan any other way.

Mike Carey's "My Faith In Frankie": Surreal romantic comedy. Frankie Moxon is a college girl looking for love. She's also the sole worshipper of Jeriven, a minor deity who's watched over her all her life. But when an old crush of Frankie's makes a surprise return, Jeriven finds her devotions waning... and the weirdest love triangle you'll ever see takes off.

Nabiel Kaman's "The Birthday Riots": A simple but powerful story of disillusionment. Natalie is losing faith in her father, Max is confronted with reminders of the life he left behind and the mistakes he's made, while the gypsies seek a promised land they don't really believe in anymore. It's very touching, with characters that encourage empathy; utterly realistic without being over-the-top, poignant but not hopeless.

Well, that about wraps it up. Hope that's enough for decent filler. :)

Comics Review: February 4

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (8-9, 11-14)

(Note: I'm skipping over issue 10, which was a completely unremarkable "House of M" tie-in that has nothing to do with anything.)

This one's a bit of a mixed bag, really.

I'll start by asserting a general point: it's a sign of my faith in Ed Brubaker that I'm even reading this series - Captain America is, IMO, not a character who has aged well, and more often than not the writers who use him tend to lean towards very distasteful jingoism and hyperexaggerated patriotism ("If we give up... THE TERRORISTS WIN!").

But I follow the writer, not the character. And I do admit that Brubaker's first arc, "Out of Time", took care of precisely that problem by looping the focus of his run around Steve Rogers as a character, not as a symbol. The first six issues relayed the relevant backstories in an efficient manner, set up all the players and proceeded to dive headfirst into Brubaker's long-term plan. This complicates evaluating his individual arcs, of course, since the series is taking what Brubaker calls the "meta-arc" approach - that is to say, it's all one big storyline, broken down for the sake of TPBs rather than any intentional division. This is clear enough with "Out of Time", which ends with an open cliffhanger seguing directly into the second arc, "The Winter Soldier".

Of course, that method of storytelling doesn't quite work with the massive delays this series has suffered from. A lot of momentum has been lost, and that tends to color the perception of what's going on here. Basically, we pick up right where "Out of Time" leaves off: Aleksander Lukin has powered up his Cosmic Cube, the Winter Soldier who serves him may or may not be a brain-damaged Bucky Barnes (Cap's old partner, and previously the only other person aside from Ben Parker who was really, really dead), and the Captain himself is on the brink of losing his mind. It seems a confrontation with his best friend is inevitable.

The problems start when, having built up to said confrontation, Brubaker deflates it with cliches: Captain America snatches the Cube and uses it to restore Bucky's identity, and the horror-stricken Winter Soldier promptly teleports away to angst. Now, conventionally it's possible to properly end a story with an anti-climax - sometimes that's really the best way to go. But one major plot point throughout Brubaker's run so far is that the Cosmic Cube warps the desires of anyone who tries to use it: no matter what you wish for, it'll always go sour somehow. That's why Lukin gives it up, enabling the aforementioned showdown between Cap and Bucky.

All well and good, except Steve's wish doesn't backfire. He doesn't get the tearful reunion he might have been hoping for, but Bucky's reaction is pretty much what you'd expect given the murderous rampage he's been involved in for the last fifty years. Now, if Bucky had gone mad in a Drusilla way after getting all his lost memories crammed back into his head, it would've been tragic. It would've been precisely the "Monkey's Paw" twist Brubaker's referencing, and it would have put the blame squarely on the Captain's shoulders.

As it stands, it's a bit too color-by-numbers, and dissatisfying when read on its own because there's no real sense of gravity in relation to Bucky's resurrection. Brubaker has basically undone a death at the very heart of the Marvel Universe, but because the plot succumbs to cliche, we don't get to see how deeply this affects either partner. To make things worse, Lukin - who started out as a villain with the potential to match the Red Skull - turns out to be a bit of a lightweight; and that's without mentioning the very last panel of the arc, which seems to suggest that (promises and expectations aside) the major death from Brubaker's very first issue isn't as permanent as we'd hoped.

I'm tentatively listing this as a disappointment, though there's still plenty of room for improvement given that none of the plot threads have actually ended here.

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Y: The Last Man #42

Another standalone issue, but this one is much better than the last one. Here we learn the secret origin of Ampersand, Yorick's monkey. Yes, Yorick's monkey. You wouldn't think there's much of a story there, I certainly didn't.

Lo and behold, not only is there a story, but it's a doozy. Seems Ampersand has a much deeper connection to what's been going on, as the issue begins quite a while before he and Yorick ever meet. We get our first look at the mysterious "Dr. M", whose connection to Allison is confirmed (her mother, most likely, though Vaughan also allows for the possibility that it's her father). We see a rather likely explanation as to how Ampersand could have protected Yorick from the plague. We even get an interesting look into the simian mind before catching up with current events.

Once again, Vaughan proves his skills: it's no small feat to tell a story from a monkey's point of view, especially when you have no narrative captions or thought bubbles. It's another thing altogether to actually weave such a story into the greater tapestry, so it becomes a major piece of the puzzle. Very well done indeed.

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Legion of Superheroes #14

Hmm. This issue introduces Shrinking Violet/Atom Girl to the cast, and sets the stage for the next development in the Legion: the United Planets, embarrassed yet grateful for being rescued from the brink of annihilation, offer to fund the Legion's operations while promising them full autonomy and power equal to their oppressors, the Science Police. Of course, as Saturn Girl points out, there's no such thing as an arm that acts on its own volition - the strings are attached, whether they're visible or not. Meanwhile, Waid makes a pointed (and slightly juvenile) commentary on fanboys when a metahuman obssessed with the late Dream Girl goes berserk at the news of her death.

My enthusiasm for this book wanes more and more every month. Having concluded the "galactic war" plot, Waid is now turning his focus to interpersonal relationships within the core Legion... except those have been on the backburner for at least six months (if not more), and pushing them to the foreground because there's nothing better to do doesn't help. Also, there's a slight imbalance in this book between the main plot and the subplots, in that the former tends to dominate the page while the latter aren't consistently developed throughout. As a result, Waid can't really change gears because there's no foundation to build later stories.

The letter pages are still funny, though - despite their insistence on reminding me that Superbimbo will be joining the cast in two issues. Waiter! Check please!

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Hard Time #3

This issue juggles several subplots: Cutter insinuating himself into the prison, Ethan learning more about his powers while suspecting Red of betrayal, and the return of Fruitcake. It's always fun having Fruitcake around, because more than any other inmate he knows what's really going on, and is willing to impart that information on Ethan. Gerber successfully balances the old and new characters here, and - probably for the first time - creates a nemesis for Ethan that transcends anything he's faced in jail so far. Another strong entry in this series.

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X-Factor #3

Oh no he didn't.

Peter David did not just make me momentarily stop wishing Layla Miller into oblivion.

*facepalm*

This series is generally moving upwards in terms of quality - it started off well, and is steadily getting better as the cast is consolidated and conflicts are set up. There's a lot of typical PAD humor here, which is a good thing: Monet and Rictor, the banter between Madrox and Siryn, and even Layla is amusing in a creepy kind of way (though her punchline is wearing thin). We see a little more of Singularity Investigations, and why they're so concerned about what X-Factor is up to.

However, PAD also seems to be heading specifically in the direction I was hoping he wouldn't: dealing with Decimation head on as a primary plot, as opposed to just using it as a distant platform for his own stories. To make things worse, it's not entirely clear why there's supposed to be this big investigation into M-Day and what caused it. Granted that the utter stupidity and lack of coordination during "House of M" means we don't know who remembers what, who did what to whom, and who came back to life/died as a result, but what is clear is that there are a number of people out there (including Wolverine, Emma Frost, Spider-Man, Ms. Marvel and others) who know exactly what Wanda's magic vagina did. So why is it such a big mystery?

I'm still feeling a bit of uncertainty regarding this book; it's quite good, but it's also traversing ground I'm deliberately avoiding. But it's entertaining enough to hold my interest until the book's overall direction becomes clearer.

Comics Review: February 1

Exiles: World Tour - 2099 (75-76)

I had a chance to read four 2099 series (X-Men, Ghost Rider, Doom and Spider-Man) a while ago and I really enjoyed them, partly because they were well-written (duh) but also because it's a world almost completely detached from Marvel tropes. It's the kind of alternate reality you don't really get these days, so remote that the Days of Futures Past are two or three generations removed, and the very idea of a superhero is something relegated to myth, to legend. It's also notable because, while the line was in its prime, it never relied upon the old iconography: oh, you'd see a picture of Charles Xavier from time to time, and there was that "Spider-Man/Spider-Man 2099" issue, but there was no direct descent from the "time of Marvels" to the world of 2099 (with the possible exception of Doom, whose identity is problematic to say the least).

The point is, 2099 succeeded (and failed) on its own merits. It was a fresh playing field which the writers worked very well (personally, I always thought Miguel O'Hara was a hell of a lot more interesting than Peter Parker). Unfortunately, Marvel going bankrupt brought the whole line crashing down after editor Joey Calavieri was fired, followed by Spider-Man writer Peter David and Doom writer Warren Ellis. After four years of excellent stories, 2099 was dismantled by Ben Raab, Tom Peyer and Terry Kavanaugh, ending with a mediocre whimper that certainly didn't befit its creative and financial success.

Now, almost ten years since the line's demise, Tony Bedard and Jim Calafiore bring it back as a segment in the Exiles' "World Tour". When I reviewed the previous "New Universe" segment, I noted that I was able to take two avenues of criticism with regards to the overarching storyline as a whole: as a reader unfamiliar with featured realities, and as a fan who enjoyed the original stories.

So, does 2099 work as a welcome bit of nostalgia? Yes and no. Let's get the criticisms out of the way first: this story was too compressed. It's easy to understand why "Future Imperfect" gets two issues - it's a minimalist setting, you've got the Maestro and that's about it. But 2099 is at least as complex as the New Universe, if not moreso, and it doesn't accomplish everything it COULD have accomplished due to space. Keeping in mind that the first issue of this two-parter was the 75th issue, I don't see why it couldn't have been double-sized. Part of the disappointment stems from the misleading covers: it's a bit of a let-down to see the entire cast of 2099 on display only to discover that the story itself only features two characters from that reality (with a third making a painfully brief cameo).

Still, taking all that into account, Bedard again demonstrates an aptitude for knowing which characters work best in the story he's telling. With Proteus' current host body (formerly Justice) wearing out, he arrives in 2099 searching for the most powerful superhuman alive - one with a healing factor so immense that it may stabilize him for a while. The Exiles follow suit, and hijack Spider-Man 2099 to guide them. Unfortunately, the third confrontation with Proteus doesn't go any better than the previous two, and by the end of the battle circumstances force Miguel to join the team and abandon his home reality.

As I mentioned before, it all happens a bit too quickly: there's no real exposure to 2099 the way the New Universe was exposited in the previous arc. In fact, I have a hard time believing any reader can really appreciate what's going on without the context, which isn't as readily available here as it was before (ie: Tyler Stone's final threat to Spider-Man is a lot more creepy if you know who he really is in connection with Miguel). Of course, it's pretty much a question of priorities; there's only so much you can do in 40-odd pages, and we actually get some surprising character development - with Proteus, of all people. At first I thought Bedard was taking liberties with the character, until I went back to the original Claremont story and discovered that yes, Proteus actually does keep the memories of his previous hosts. So he's not as flat a villain as he appears to be. I like this development because it ties Proteus and the Exiles together in a much deeper way, adding a more personal dimension to the conflict than if he was just "Mimic's killer".

When all's said and done, I do feel - as a fan of 2099 - that there might have been room for a little more exploration. But as a reader of "Exiles", I acknowledge that Bedard did what he was supposed to do, using the setting to enhance his story rather than let this be a gratuitous fan-pleaser. This third confrontation with Proteus ends the way it does precisely because of a quality that was always inherent in the world of 2099. And there's no question that it'll be very interesting to see Spider-Man 2099 as an Exile. That's enough, for now.

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Daredevil: The Murdock Papers (76-81)

It seems oddly fitting that now, at the end of Brian Michael Bendis' run of "Daredevil", I'm reminded why there was a time not too long ago when I'd pick up Bendis books sight-unseen.

I don't think there's any question that Bendis is a writer currently in decline, the quality of his work sagging across the board. Look at where "Ultimate Spider-Man" is now, as opposed to three years ago. Look at "Powers". Look at the transition from "Alias" to "Pulse". But I think that, of all the series he's been writing during his downward spiral, "Daredevil" suffered the least.

In fact, "Daredevil" is a very atypical Bendis book, in that his entire run - fifty-one issues in total - comprises one mega-structure. It really is one story broken into two halves, those halves fragmented into five arcs each. Very meticulous, very exact, far more than anything you'll find in any other Bendis series. It's pretty amazing, considering that even Frank Miller's definitive run tended to go a bit wayward from time to time.

That's not to say that every story was equally successful, of course. While the first half (26-50) counts among the writer's strongest works for Marvel, the post-ellipsis half (55-81, taking place one year after the events of issue 50) fell flat on occasion. I'm thinking here of "The Golden Age", which was a very lovely artistic experiment that, on the level of the plot, amounted to the Kingpin before Fisk coming to New York, slapping Matt around, and dying of a heart attack. To coin a phrase, "Big overture, little show." In fact, this is the biggest problem with Bendis now; it used to be that his stories took four or five issues (out of six) to actually get started, but the payoff was always worth it. These days, it isn't anymore, which really blows the point, doesn't it?

But as a whole, it's been one of Bendis' best series - and thank God he's getting off it now before his slump really started to show. As mentioned in previous entries, he's being replaced by Ed Brubaker, who has the same kind of urban noir/crime sensibility with the added bonus of putting actual content in single issues.

So "The Murdock Papers" is a summing-up of everything that has happened for the past five years of Daredevil's life. It's a violent eruption of all the forces that have been surrounding Matt Murdock since his identity was exposed. And it's a return to a level of quality I never thought I'd see Bendis reach again. There's no backing down here, no contrivance to reset the status quo. The Kingpin's plan is brilliant, and I recall now that Bendis always wrote Wilson Fisk excellently, as a true criminal mastermind who's two steps ahead of everyone else.

Yes, the arc is decompressed, the dialogue has some frustrating tics and the fight scenes are static and disjointed. But this storyline is a success on so many levels that I can forgive it its flaws. It's the natural, logical conclusion of everything Bendis has set up, going as far back as the trial of the White Tiger. At the same time, you have Frank Miller's foursome all together again - Matt, the Kingpin, Elektra and Bullsye. It's going forward with a brief look over the shoulder to remind us where it all comes from.

The last issue, #81, is especially good, wrapping up the run on a high note while offering an enjoyable narrative trick: when Matt "escapes", Bendis works backwards through the women as he introduced them: first we have Natasha (who made an appearance in "The Widow" after Milla left), then Milla, and it ends as it began, with Elektra. The only thing missing is a visit to Karen Page's grave - but then, her absence says enough. It's poignant, it's tragic, and for once Bendis doesn't leave anything up in the air. It's very clear what's happening, and why Matt makes the choice he makes.

Hiccups aside, Bendis and artist Alex Maleev leave behind a far better book than the one they took over, with a new status quo that's certain to provide Brubaker with a wealth of potential story angles. It's been slow at times, exciting at others, but certainly a run to remember.

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BPRD: The Black Flame

It's getting progressively harder to remember what's going on in these books. Partly because the schedule is absolutely ridiculous, with no consistency and no recap to bridge the months-long gaps between various miniseries; partly because Mike Mignola and his associates just haven't fleshed out these characters enough to be compelling after long absences; and partly because the story hasn't been moving in any particular direction. While Hellboy runs around the world digging up foreign mythologies, the BPRD are in a bit of a loop: they find frog men, kill frog men, find some disgusting Lovecraftian giant at the core of the current Evil Nazi Plan, they kill said giant and that's it. Wash, rinse and repeat.

It's not that it's being written badly, mind you. It's just boring. Not that "Hellboy" has been any better - "The Third Wish" and "The Island" were probably scripted on napkins. But at least there you have Mignola continuing the theme of exploring the world's folklore through Hellboy, be it Russian or Chinese or African. It's educational, if nothing else. "BPRD" isn't even offering some kind of variation on the theme.

The next miniseries, "The Universal Machine", starts in April. I very much doubt I'll be there.

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Rose

Thanks to Neverglades for this one.

Jeff Smith's "Bone" is one of those series that slipped under my radar when I first returned to comics; everyone was talking about it but nobody could tell me why it was so good. I find that attempting to describe it, more often than not, results in a bunch of oxymorons: it's simplistic yet complex, it's innocent yet not necessarily for children, it's fantasy but it's also comedy. It's most often compared to "Lord of the Rings", which is accurate on the thematic level: you have three diminuative strangers from a small, rural land drawn into a war for the fate of the world, which they will ultimately determine despite their outsider status (or perhaps because of it). However, Jeff Smith's writing is much more energetic than Tolkien's, as the artwork allows him to cut down on unnecessary descriptions (which I always felt was Tolkien's great flaw as a writer - his inability to get to the point without going on for pages and pages about the trees and the hills and the rivers).

Anyway, when I finally got around to "Bone", it had me intrigued by the end of the first storyarc, and utterly enthralled by the second. Fifty-five issues in length, it's an absolutely marvelous read. But even though the story is epic in scope, there's still an area the reader never gets to access: specifically, the immediate backstory to the current crisis. We're told what happened years ago to set the stage (Grandma Ben delivers the tale to the Bones in summary), but we never see Queen Rose in her prime, or how the Lord of the Locusts tried to free himself in the past.

Here, then, is that story in its entirety, a prequel to the actions that take place in "Bone". It's a bit jarring when you read it immediately after the main series, because it's a jump back to before most of the main characters were even born. At the same time, seeing Briar's fall is chilling, and Charles Vess' artwork grants the whole thing an ethereal feel, as though we're reading a fairy tale - which, in a sense, we are. There's no real surprise here for "Bone" readers (remember, we already know the story), but there's a sense of wonder nonetheless because "Rose" depicts a world that no longer exists by the time the main story begins. We never see other dragons aside from the familiar Red, nor are the Venu and their practices as commonplace as they are when Briar and Rose were young.

It's a lovely tale, one that stands on its own well enough but also provides one last glimpse at the fantastic world Jeff Smith created.

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Girls #9

Not much to say about this one, as we're still holding course: the "quarantine" of Pennystown is having an adverse effect on its animal inhabitants, while the confined townspeople are starting to go stir-crazy. I do think everyone is a bit too quick to condemn Ethan unfairly - from what we've seen of his characterization, he's not that bad a person - but then, maybe that's the point.

Once again we have a last-page cliffhanger that seems to turn the entire series on its head... more on that, I suppose, when it develops. It's moving slowly, but at just the proper pace for a mystery.

Comics Review: January 22

Runaways: East Coast/West Coast (9-12)

After a mildly disappointing two-parter, Brian Vaughan bounces back with yet another excellent arc of "Runaways". Having been framed for assaulting his partner Dagger, Cloak flees New York and recruits the Runaways (with whom he has a history, as seen in the previous series) to help clear him. Meanwhile, the New Avengers search for Cloak, paving the way for an inevitable meeting with our teen protagonists.

"East Coast/West Coast" has it all, really. The Runaways interact with the larger Marvel Universe - in the hands of a lesser writer, this might have diluted the story, but Vaughan knows exactly what he's doing and actually uses the New Avengers to great effect: Molly finally gets to meet Wolverine in an absolutely adorable pair of scenes, Gert and Victor have sushi with Spider-Man (who was, after all, the second teen hero to appear in the MU after Bucky), etc.

It works. It really works. Vaughan's characterization of the New Avengers, particularly Spider-Man, is spot-on, and at the same time he never loses sight of his main characters: we see how Molly feels about her "team", Nico's still a little confused over Karolina's departure, and Chase exposes a darker side to his personality.

There's comedy, there's drama, there's mystery... one of the best books Marvel's putting out right now.

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Legion of Superheroes #13

The conclusion of Waid's first maxi-arc, conversely, does not work.

The problem is simply one of space: having devoted entire issues to the Legion's battle against Lemnos' forces, Waid fails to develop certain characters sufficiently. So when said characters have a change of heart and turn the tide of the battle, it falls flat because we haven't seen any reason why they'd switch sides. They deliver exposition explaining their motives, but that's something we needed to know when these people were introduced - as it's written, it pretty much comes out of the blue, and consequently fails to convince me that this is anything more than a deus ex machina. This isn't the first time Waid fell into such a trap - last issue also featured several plot twists which turned up without being properly established (ie: Projectra's magical powers, which she probably knew she was going to inherit but never mentions until the plot requires their use).

It's a pity, really, because a lot hinges on this issue: a Legionnaire quits the team, Brainiac has hatched another plot behind his teammates' backs, and the Legion win their first major victory, essentially saving the entire galaxy. But these elements all turn upon contrivance, and most of the story's strength is lost as a result.

I'm not quite sure why this series is faltering now, considering its early issues were quite good and Waid is hardly a slouch in the writing department. Then again, I do recall feeling increasingly disappointed with his run of "Fantastic Four" towards the end (that penultimate Galactus story started out very well and took an abrupt nosedive), so maybe that's just how things go with him.

Comics Review: January 15

Fables: Arabian Nights and Days (42-45)

It's strange that "Fables" is so low-profile these days: it's one of the best Vertigo books being published, it's extremely consistent, and Willingham could certainly have used the positive attention after the beating his reputation took during his stint on the Batman line.

In any case, I personally see "Fables" as the contemporary successor to Neil Gaiman's masterpiece, "The Sandman". Oh, there have been countless spin-offs and series set in that specific universe, but I don't feel many of them made proper use of Gaiman's themes relating to stories. "Fables" does just that, appropriating a cornucopia of mythical and legendary figures and transplanting them into 21st-century America, following an invasion of their homelands by the mysterious Adversary (whose identity was revealed in the previous arc). It's a premise with near-limitless potential, and Willingham has been up to the task: we've seen the Big Bad Wolf in World War 2, Jack (of the Beanstalk story) making movies in Hollywood, Prince Charming as Mr. Big, and so on. All done with equal parts loyal interpretation and revamping, and with multilayered plotlines spanning several arcs. Willingham also takes risks with his characters, shifting the players around and removing central figures for months at a time. It's all quite dynamic and exciting.

All of which leads us to the current story, in which Willingham expands the scope of his series yet again. Having focused almost exclusively on European-based fables (ie: Hansel and Gretel, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, etc.), we now shift gears as Arabian fables led by Sinbad arrive in the "mundy" (Fable slang for mundane/"real") world, bringing about an inevitable culture clash. Unfortunately, Fabletown is still unstable following a major coup by Prince Charming, and to make matters worse, Sinbad has brought a deadly weapon of unstoppable power with him.

It's a fast-moving storyline, with a brilliant twist towards the end. Willingham makes good use of the "Arabian Nights" template, and it's pretty interesting to see the juxtaposition of Western and Eastern imagery (to say nothing of the amusing mistranslation scenes).

"Fables" is a must-read for fans of the more literary, artistic sensibilities; it seamlessly combines a modern setting with fantastic creatures of lore, and provides a universe where almost anything can happen.

Comics Review: January 10

Y: The Last Man #41

Another standalone issue, this time delving into the backstory of Agent 355. It isn't quite as good as the Beth-1 and Beth-2 stories that preceded it, primarily because there's nothing particularly surprising about the information we're given. Also, the framing sequence for the flashbacks is a bit too thin.

The problem with standalone stories within a larger narrative is that, more often than not, the ongoing plot is put on hold while they play out. Now, if the story is entertaining enough, it's not really a problem - "Hero's Journey" back in issue 27 was essential reading in its own right, and I doubt many Y fans were complaining about issue 36's "Boy Loses Girl".

By comparison, there's just not that much to say about this one. It's very by-the-numbers, and strangely predictable for a Vaughan story. Better luck next time.

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Hard Time #2

I only realized this in hindsight, but by keeping Ethan mostly isolated from the rest of the prison, Steve Gerber has come up with the perfect way to insert new players into the mix: whenever a character is introduced, it's not that much of a stretch to believe he was always there and just hasn't crossed paths with our protagonist until now. He's certainly done a good job of crafting some unique and unusual types, such as the Samoan candy addict Kilo.

Gerber also takes this opportunity to give Ethan (and the readers) a long-overdue lesson on how prison life works, as well as introduce a foreboding new character straight out of Arkham Asylum. Since most of the issue is given over to the explanations, not much happens on the level of plot, although Ethan again manifests his power in a new, slightly confusing way. More on that as it develops, I suppose.

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Colossus: Bloodline

Ouch. Points to Hine for giving it the old college try, but this one goes off the rails very, very badly.

To be fair, the premise of "Bloodline" is one that absolutely necessitated a miniseries, if not a storyline in the main ongoing. One criticism I have to agree with regarding Joss Whedon's "Astonishing X-Men" run is, having brought Colossus back from the dead in a particularly traumatic way, Whedon hasn't done much of anything with him so far. Hine picks up on that with this story, which promised to explore the psychological ramifications of Colossus' return.

(As an aside, this seems to be a regular thing for Hine, who's also writing "X-Men: The 198" and "Son of M", more books resuming discarded threads by other writers. Not quite the prestige you'd expect from a member of the "Ten Terrific", but I suppose money is money.)

However, having based the plot on Colossus, and having delivered a first issue heavily focusing on how his imprisonment has changed him, Hine proceeds to tell a completely different story about Grigory Rasputin and a bunch of Peter's relatives we've never seen before. How shoehorned does it get? Mr. Sinister is wheeled in to deliver two solid issues of exposition monologue. I'll repeat that: Mister Sinister Explains It All for two issues. Clearly, Hine got a little sidetracked into exploring the myth of Rasputin, creating a tenuous (not to mention ridiculous) connection to the mental instability often experienced by Colossus and his siblings (Mikhail and Illyana).

Bafflingly, the end result of Hine's story is attributing Peter's unstable behavior to another external force altogether - as if his imprisonment had no effect on him at all. Hine ends up undermining himself; having set up the dominos, he goes outside for a game of soccer. All this story achieves is yet another send-off for Mikhail, with Colossus himself going right back to where he started at the end of the miniseries.

Extremely disappointing.