Sunday, February 5, 2006

Webcomic Review: Something Positive

Randy K. Milholland's "Something Positive" (http://www.somethingpositive.net) is the jewel in the crown of webcomics.

I don't profess to be an expert in webcomics. I doubt I've covered a tenth of what's going on out there. But I very much doubt I'll find anything as funny, as poignant, as real as this masterpiece. It's so easy to see Davan, PeeJee, Aubrey and their friends as people; so easy to miss cast members who walk away; so easy to care, despite the girls' propensity for mindless violence and Davan's endless supply of snark. It's unconventional. It's unpredictable. It's fun. It's fucking brilliant. And while it favors comedy over drama, there are moments that hurt, and Milholland always knows when to pull away, and exactly how much we need to see without going overboard.

I can't recommend this webcomic strongly enough.

Saturday, February 4, 2006

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.

---

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.

---

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!

---


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.

---

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.

Wednesday, February 1, 2006

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.

---

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.

---

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.

---

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.

---

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.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Good News Round-Up

Or: "All Things Just Keep Getting Better"

Okay, from the top:

1) Chris Claremont finally gets the boot off "Uncanny X-Men" after two years of nothing, preceded by six months of nothing, preceded by sixteen years - the first seven of which were excellent, the last nine of which were spent gradually sliding down the ladder of quality. Those who still enjoy his work despite the fact that he's got nothing intelligent or creative or particularly insightful left to say about the X-Men can be comforted with "New Excalibur" and various fringe projects, where he won't be able to embarrass himself. Much.

I must again quote my X-guru on the matter: "I'm an enormous fan of his 1980s work. Wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. So it makes me sad to see him sullying that run with this frankly dreadful nonsense we're getting now. He could have been remembered as the greatest X-Men writer ever. Now, that statement is going to have to be qualified. 'Not his second [or third] run, you understand. Not that one. The GOOD one. ... Claremont has not been able to write consistently good stories in over a decade. When he was on miniseries, people said it would all be okay when he was on an ongoing title again. When he was on Sovereign Seven, people said it would all be okay once he was on the X-Men again. When he was wrecking Fantastic Four, people said the same thing. (And incidentally, how many of those terrible early plots from his arc did he get around to resolving? None.) And now he's on the X-Men. What's the excuse now? A dwindling number of fans are still trying to argue that we have to think in the long run. It's the only fig leaf they've got left."

2) Claremont's replacement is Ed Brubaker, a writer of great versatility and talent, who has demonstrated a firm grasp of the X-Men in his preliminary miniseries "Deadly Genesis". Combining a sensibility about when (and how much) to use continuity with a fresh perspective, and the added bonus of not being connected to "Civil Bore", the Mighty Marvel Millar Moron Mega-Event... well, what more could I ask for?

3) How about another X-Men book getting some upward mobility? Doomed from the start by stylistic incompatibility, Peter Milligan finally bows out, dismantling his team in his coda storyline, "The Blood of Apocalypse". He's replaced by Mike Carey of Vertigo fame, and while much has been made about his unorthodox choice of cast, I refer the doubters to this Newsarama interview: http://www.newsarama.com/forums/showthread.php?s=30945d216dac6a63352b7246d20dd090&threadid=57009 It's very comforting to see that Carey, unlike some of his predecessors, has devoted quite a bit of thought into who he's writing, and why. And it doesn't connect to "Civil War". The only downside is that Carey will be working with Chris Bachalo, whose recent work looks like he just swallows a bottle of ink and vomits it onto the page.

4) Cassandra Nova - my pick for the best X-Men villainess introduced since Dark Phoenix - makes an appearance in issue 13 of Joss Whedon's "Astonishing X-Men". Nice to know some people haven't forgotten what Grant Morrison brought to the canon.

5) And speaking of the Shiny-Headed Lunatic, Grant Morrison's retooling of the Wildstorm line, scheduled for this summer, will include two series he'll be writing. The first is "Wildcats" (with Jim Lee), which I'm not familiar with but am willing to try provided it's accessible; the other is "Authority" (with Gene Ha), a book I have been waiting for this particular writer to get to since Millar left it. Be still my frontal lobe. :) Gail Simone will be writing "Gen13" (with Talent Caldwell), which falls into the same category of "Wildcats", but I'm optimistic.

6) "Ultra", one of my favorite recent miniseries by the Luna Brothers, has been picked up for a television series adaptation. A tribute to its quality.

And there was much rejoicing in comicsdom. :)

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Movie Review: Carnival of Souls

Or: "Dancing With The Stars: Sixth Sense Edition"

Another moldy oldie early '60s horror film, though this one is much better than "The Brain That Wouldn't Die" (ironically, both films came out in the same year).

Mary Henry is the sole survivor of a fatal car crash. Dragging herself out of the river where her friends drowned, she immediately packs up her things and moves across the country, traumatized and desperate to start over. For a while, things seem to go her way: she finds a place to live, gets a job and meets a guy. But she's soon haunted by visions of a pale, decomposing man at every turn... and worse, there are moments when the world around her just stops seeing her.

"Carnival of Souls" is very atmospheric and moody, though probably not much of a horror film by contemporary standards. It seems to be reaching for psychodrama, and might would have succeeded except Mary's a bit two-dimensional. The movie also suffers from extreme padding - sometimes repeating a scene two or three times, with little variation. I get the feeling this was a common practice in those days, with this specific genre, simply for the sake of reaching minimum length quota with barebones plots. An above-average movie, if you can get over the frustration that inevitably results from watching Mary run down the same hall over and over again.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Huh.

So Mike Carey will be replacing Peter Milligan on "X-Men". I like Carey all right... and he certainly doesn't suffer from the same stylistic problems Milligan does when writing in the mainstream.

The rosters, as near as I can make out, will be as follows:

Joss Whedon/John Cassday (Astonishing X-Men): Cyclops, Wolverine, Colossus, Shadowcat, Emma Frost and Beast.

Mike Carey/Chris Bachalo (X-Men): Cable, Mystique, Sabretooth, Rogue, Iceman and Cannonball.

Ed Brubaker/Billy Tan (Uncanny X-Men following up on Deadly Genesis): Marvel Girl, Nightcrawler and Havok are confirmed, the rest are unknown.

And now I'm realizing that, come the summer, I'll be reading all three core X-books, at least on a trial basis.

Huh.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

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.

---

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.