The Prince of Persia Trilogy: Sands of Time

Having recently completed "The Two Thrones", I thought it'd be nice to look back over Ubisoft's "Prince of Persia" trilogy in a sequence of reviews. I'll be focusing primarily on story, gameplay and characters. Previous "Prince of Persia" games such as "The Shadow and the Flame" will not be reviewed.

Most people think Time is like a river that flows swift and sure in one direction. But I have seen the face of Time, and I can tell you: they are wrong. Time is an ocean in a storm.

The series begins with "Sands of Time", the story of a young and naive Prince who participates in a Persian invasion of India. Victorious, he then visits the neighboring kingdom of Azad and is manipulated into unleashing a deadly plague upon the palace and all its inhabitants. Aided only by a mysterious Indian princess, the Prince must fight his way through the byzantine, demon-infested palace in search of a way to undo his mistake.

All three "Prince of Persia" games - the entire series, in fact, from ancient first to last - rely heavily on reflex, knowing when to jump, when to roll under a spinning blade, how to time a drop. But where the DOS games would send you all the way back to the beginning of the level if you slipped up (costing you valuable time which you couldn't get back), Ubisoft's trilogy adds a gameplay mechanism that allows you to learn from your mistakes: the ability to rewind time.

Very early in the game, the Prince acquires the Dagger of Time, a mystical weapon that serves two primary purposes. The first grants the player the ability to turn back time for about eight to ten seconds; if you jump too soon and plummet to your death, a tap of the proper key sends the Prince on a backwards trek. Each reversal consumes a Sand Tank, and the Dagger holds several of these (with more added as you progress). If you're killed without any Sands in the dagger, you'll be sent back to the last checkpoint, to repeat the entire sequence.

The Dagger's secondary function is equally vital: it is the only weapon that can vanquish Sand monsters. And I mean all Sand monsters. Except for various animals you infrequently come across, every single enemy here can only be destroyed by slashing them with your sword until they collapse, and then stabbing them with the Dagger to absorb their Sands (and prevent them from reconstituting themselves, which they will if you fail to strike within a few seconds). It's a nice little trick at first, but you'll inevitably reach situations where you're fighting ten to fifteen enemies (usually no more than three at a time; as soon as one is dispatched, another teleports in). And it becomes a bit tiresome.

The Prince himself is surprisingly acrobatic: he can run up or along walls, shimmy across ledges, leap over enemies to attack them from above, and rebound off flat surfaces to propel himself like a spear. In addition to all this, you'll gain additional Dagger powers the more Sand you absorb.

The combat system is also interesting. On the one hand, it's a bit tedious because you have to destroy every single enemy you encounter - save points will not be accessible until the surrounding area has been cleared. These save points offer brief glimpses of the terrain ahead, but leaving that aside, this is very much a game where you want to save at every opportunity. On the other hand, the fact that you can't not kill your enemies means that "leveling up" is inevitable - the Dagger gains additional tanks for every few dozen enemies slain, which means more chances to rewind, more powers unlocked, and so on.

Visually and audially, "Sands of Time" is beautiful: the soundtrack mixes Middle Eastern melodies and rock, adding mesmerizing vocals to several tracks. The game environment is suitably exotic and detailed, from the grandeur of the palace architecture to the decaying dungeons, to the magnificent sunrise as you near your goal.

With every other living being in the palace transformed into a Sand demon, the only characters with significant screen time are the Prince and Farah, the daughter of the conquered Indian Maharajah. Farah isn't a playable character, but she follows you throughout most of the game, reaching places the Prince can't and occasionally using her skills at archery to support him during fights. The banter between them is always entertaining, as are the Prince's monologues during gameplay. It's important to note that the interaction between them fills up a lot of "dead space" in the game that would otherwise be spent silently running and jumping around - this is a subtle strength that Ubisoft would not fully appreciate later.

Overall, "The Sands of Time" is as much a work of art as it is a game: rich, compelling, and worth the hours you'll spend shrieking in rage as you miss a complicated jump for the third time. :)

Hell Hath No Fury Like Diana Scorned

Or: "Another Reason Mike Marts Does Not Want To Meet Me In A Dark Alley"

Wow. I never thought I'd be posting this, but I'm dropping "Exiles" soon.

Not because I'm not enjoying it, mind you. But because, in a display of stupidity that is nothing short of astounding, writer Tony Bedard is being replaced by Chris Claremont.

Yes. Chris Claremont.

I don't understand. I really don't. "Exiles" hasn't been this good since Judd Winick left. Everything was going well. Sales were stable. Plenty of stories left to tell. Meanwhile the nostalgic crowd had "New Excalibur" for their Claremont fix and everything else was left out of the endless cycle of mind control and slavery and domination.

And now this. One of my favorite books, being run into the ground by that senile has-been. I haven't been this furious about a comic book in a good long while.

As far as I'm concerned, the series is cancelled with issue 83.

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. :)

Movie Review: "Ultimate Avengers"

Or: "The Ghost of Suckiness Yet To Come"

Okay. I can see the appeal of adapting Millar's "Ultimates" to movie format. It's accessible, it's written with a cinematic flair, and any quasi-mature moments can certainly be retooled without losing too much impact.

What I don't understand, though, is why Marvel and Lion's Gate Entertainment would perform such a hack job on what was ostensibly supposed to kickstart an entire line of animated features. If this is the model subsequent films will follow, it's not very encouraging.

Basically, "Ultimate Avengers" is a compressed version of the entire first volume of "Ultimates" - you've got Captain America, the Chitauri and the Hulk all mixed in there. Unfortunately, the movie is barely longer than an hour, and when weighing the importance of story vs. Big Ship Go Boom... well, have a guess as to what was prioritized.

It's barely coherent: characters jump in and out with zero motivation and even less personality (ie: What's Tony Stark doing in an Iron Man suit? Why does Thor have such a big gay crush on Captain America?). There's almost no exposition: what are the Chitauri doing on Earth? What is SHIELD? When did the whole Hulk situation happen (it takes place before the movie begins). It's basically seventy minutes of explosions, cool animations and largely awful voice acting, occasionally punctuated by displays of superpowers.

Now, I imagine this is less of a problem for readers of Millar's "Ultimates", since most of the blanks can be filled in by referring to the original stories. But taken on its own merits, "Ultimate Avengers" falls very, very short. It's a disappointment, really, because it's probably one of Millar's best works (considering he usually writes with the depth of Malibu Stacy, that's saying a lot), and it's not like there's some quality to it that defies conventional adaptation. Incompetent writers and editors aside, there's really no reason for this project to fail the way it does.

That's two strikes for Lion's Gate, also responsible for the abysmal "Man-Thing" debacle last year. I imagine prospects for upcoming projects don't look very good right now.

May Be Yes, May Be No - UPDATED

My pull list shrinks every month. This disappoints me. :(

* The last arc of Mark Millar's "Ultimate Fantastic Four" promises to pull together all the loose threads that have plagued this series since its inception. I'll tentatively give Millar the benefit of the doubt here, even though it's been ages since he's deserved it.

* "Ultimate Spider-Man" puts two issues out: the first rounds up an Ultimate Deadpool story, the second begins an Ultimate Morbius story. I've pinpointed where this series has gone wrong: it's become nothing more than a vehicle for revamping characters, except that - since the Ultimate line is so isolated and everyone's doing their own thing - nobody really does anything with these new Ultimate figures, least of all Bendis himself. Venom, Hobgoblin, Iron Fist, Shang-Chi and all the other characters recently introduced just show up, do their thing and disappear - but since it doesn't go anywhere, what's the point?

* "Civil War" begins. In addition to the Millar-written central miniseries, this month's tie-ins include "Amazing Spider-Man" #532, "She-Hulk" #8 and "Wolverine" #42. I might as well announce that I plan to ignore this storyline altogether, so aside from the obligatory tally of tie-ins I doubt I'll be discussing it in any way.

* Both "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man" and "Spider-Girl" feature Hobgoblin stories. Unfortunately, PAD's series both features that ridiculous red-and-gold costume and claims that "continuity fans better break out their back issues, because both Spidey's past and future will change when an old (and unexpected) foe executes his master plan!" There's a bright idea, pandering to the continuity fans. And then he'll wonder why nobody's buying the book, leading to its inevitable cancellation and a final issue with thinly-veiled metafictional whining. Truly, the wheels on the bus go round and round.

* The sequel to "Last Hero Standing", "Last Planet Standing", launches with two issues. Strange that they waited until the cancellation of "Spider-Girl" was official before publishing what might have created a promotional push, but I suppose the damage is done.

* Ed Brubaker relocates "Captain America" to London, following up on previous storylines (Lukin, the Winter Soldier, Crossbones and Sin, etc.). Obviously, we're going for a "saga"-type story - which affects how it's to be read, I suppose.

* Here's a very odd one: Karl Kesel writes a Fantastic Four one-shot called "Death in the Family", apparently relating to the death of the Invisible Woman. Now ordinarily I'd just dismiss this as some sort of trick storyline where Sue dies and comes back to life and we all learn a valuable lesson about family, etc. Except Straczynski's "Fantastic Four" has no issue for May, and the Aguirre-Sacasa "Four" (formerly known as "Marvel Knights 4") is cancelled. It won't stick, of course, but it does seem that's the direction they're going in.

* "Amazing Fantasy" is not listed for May, and has been confirmed as cancelled.

* "Iron Man" ships another issue. Looks like the monthly schedule is indeed back in effect. Meanwhile, the Casey miniseries "Inevitable" concludes.

* The cover of "Runaways #16" may contain a massive spoiler (ie: "He among us who is not among us is surely the culprit") with regards to the upcoming New Pride storyline.

* Mike Oeming's "Ares" concludes with the promise that the title character will be joining a major superhero team in 2006.

* Another oddity: there's a separate category for "Planet Hulk titles" even though there's only an issue of "The Incredible Hulk" in said category. Moreover, "Planet Hulk" is supposed to be self-contained. *shrug*

* UPDATE: Two issues of "Exiles" this month: one wraps up "Future Imperfect", the other goes to the land of "big man-chests and bigger action", Heroes Reborn, for the conclusion of the saga.

* "Son of M" concludes, promising reprecussions echoing into "Civil War". Uh... wasn't this a "House of M"/"Decimation" spin-off? Geez. Meanwhile, "Sentinel Squad O*N*E" also wraps up, but as I'm sure you've all noticed, it's actually a prequel to the Milligan storyline, where these pilots are tertiary characters at best. I'm not quite clear as to why we should care who's driving the big killing machines.

* "X-Factor #7" is devoted to the death of Sean Cassidy - not simply because a cast member of this book is related to him, but apparently to "convince fans that one of Marvel's mighty mutants was genuinely killed in action and never returning". Of course, Magneto's been decapitated, Colossus has been cremated and I think Psylocke was sent to a taxidermist or something. It's way, way, way too late in the day to be worrying about convincing fans - who, by definition, have been around long enough to know the score. Whether they care or not is another issue.

* Looks like there's some rescheduling going on, as "Uncanny X-Men" #473 is listed for May release now. Which makes July's #475 Ed Brubaker's first issue. Now there's a nice anniversary gift.

* Peter Milligan rounds up the "Blood of Apocalypse" arc, introducing "two brand-new Sentinels". Er... yes. "X-Men: The 198" also ends, along with "X-Statix Presents: Dead Girl".

* I'll probably regret showing an interest in this, but C.B. Cebulski launches a new series titled "X-Men: Fairy Tales", which is basically a riff off that old "Kitty's Fairy Tale" story from Ye Olde Claremonte days: it takes the characters of the X-Men and recasts them as figures in various fairy tales. The first issue, for example, places Cyclops in what seems to be a Japanese myth about "Momotaro, the Peach-Boy", out to save a beautiful red-haired princess. It's so off-the-wall, it just might work.

* Oh, look, "X-Men: The End" features Cassandra Nova taking over Charles Xavier's body. That about says it all, really.

Webcomics: "Boy Meets Boy"

http://boymeetsboy.keenspot.com/d/20000926.html
Archive here: http://boymeetsboy.keenspot.com/calendar.html

This one really impressed me. As the title suggests, it's predominantly based on a love story between two guys - in case of homophobia, the exit is in the upper-right corner of your browser.

There's a lot to say about this strip in terms of what it delivers, but I want to look at the process of its creation. As I understand it, it started with K. Sandra Fuhr's first series, "Utopia", a sci-fi comedy that featured a vampire threesome: Mikhael, Harley and Tybalt. While developing these secondary characters, Fuhr decided to spin them off into their own series, "This Is Home", making them the protagonists of the story. "Utopia", as far as I know, was removed and is currently undergoing a drastic revision.

"This Is Home", described by the author herself as the product of teenage high school angst, was a bit typical of "fangirl excess a la Anne Rice" - a lot of blood, rape, brutality, pain and horror, not necessarily done for purely artistic reasons. Ultimately, Fuhr felt (rightly so) that it didn't really work, and abandoned "This Is Home" (going so far as to remove it from the Internet altogether), transplanting Mikhael and Harley (eventually followed by other supporting cast members from both prior series) into a realistic setting, and a different genre altogether. This was the birth of "Boy Meets Boy", and it's not hard to see why it became so popular during its run - having removed the unnecessary trappings, Fuhr let the characters make the story; they became accessible and believable as people.

This process of development is interesting because, while BMB stands on its own, it's intriguing to see where and how Fuhr reconfigures her own mythos and characters when making the cross-genre transition. You can't get away with a legitimate threesome in a romantic comedy, the way you might if you were writing a pseudo-Gothic fantasy, so the relationships have to be recontextualized.

BMB itself can also be seen as an ongoing development, in that it's clear Fuhr didn't have every detail planned out when she launched the series (ie: Abby was introduced as a major player, only to summarily vanish when Aurora came in). But where this would trip up the overall narrative of lesser writers, Fuhr takes advantage of the unpredictable angles by working them into the series on a thematic level. Mik and Harley aside, no one in this series ends up where you think they will - it's both the result of changed plans and a comment on the unpredictability of life, circumstance and growth.

So what is "Boy Meets Boy"? It's a very sweet, simple love story laced with humor that ranges from wacky (Tabitha's supernatural hijinks) to irreverent (the "Whee! I'm naked!" running gag) to just plain funny (the "Girl Meets Girl" parody). The series initially centers around the romance of Mikhael and Harley, but once the secondary characters are established it becomes a wider tapestry of interpersonal relationships. There's a very manga-esque sensibility about it: big eyes, a bit of androgyny, odd hairstyles and a general optimism that never allows the story to sink too far into melodrama or tragedy. Sex plays a major role, but it's barely risque - if you can watch "Brokeback Mountain" without flinching, you'll have no problem here.

Most of the characters are gay or at least bisexual - even Cyanide, the token heterosexual guy, has "impure thoughts" about his best friend. It would be a bit monotonous in a "Queer as Folk" way if being gay was an issue, but it isn't. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to see characters who don't succumb to stereotypes - or if they do, there's more to them than just the stereotypes. Orientation isn't a selling point here, the way it was for characters like Northstar or Midnighter and Apollo. Fuhr's characters are who they are, and there's never any qualification or justification given to Mikhael and Harley: they're in love, and they're no different from anyone else. I can only think of one or two storylines where the fact that they're gay is actually brought up as an explicit plot point, but even then, it's a long, long way from the kind of self-hating tripe you'd get in a Kevin Williamson story or a Marvel/DC "OMG GAY!!!" type of thing.

There are moments of saccharine fangirlishness, of the type that made me wince and would probably go over much worse with male readers... but those moments are few and far between, and easily forgiven. Mikhael in particular starts off as this ridiculously overblown romantic archetype (his pickup line is "We are now as one"), but it becomes clear as the story proceeds that this is the whole point of his character: he's so socially inept that he looks to Pablo Neruda as a guide to flirtation. It's also a bit of an in-joke, because while characters in the realistic mode wouldn't talk like this, Master Vampire Mikhael of "This Is Home" probably would.

One of the things I love most about this strip is, as I mentioned before, its unpredictability. Protagonists nonwithstanding, almost every other character's journey takes a 90-degree turn sooner or later. You really get the sense that these people are changing and evolving as time goes by - some (Skids) more than others (Tabitha). I also like that some things aren't resolved: Fuhr never gave Cyanide closure, even though she could have in the name of fanservice. But she stuck to her guns for the story's sake, and wrapped the series up with a string of new beginnings. Friends drift apart, babies are conceived, new relationships start... and we'll never know what happens next. It's the lesson Neil Gaiman taught us in "Sandman": endings always lead to new beginnings, but the story has to stop somewhere.

In point of fact, when Fuhr launched "Friendly Hostility" (a spin-off from BMB focusing on Fox and Collin, introduced midway through the series but originating in "Utopia" - see what I mean about the development process?), she made it very clear that we'd never see other BMB characters in this new series. Not as guest-stars, not in cameos, not even in the background. Because that story is over.

It's almost a mirror image of "Something Positive" in a way. Fuhr tells the story of a group of friends who eventually split apart and find their own paths, whereas Milholland starts his story after the break, focusing on a handful of people who were once part of a larger group. And we never see that group. There was one storyline when PeeJee flashes back to those old friends, but nobody shares her nostalgia; even Davan, who spends most of his life stuck in the past, tells her it's a waste of time to think about the people who were part of their lives once and aren't anymore.

I recommend this webcomic with one reservation only: it may appeal more to women than men. I'd be very interested to hear the straight male perspective on this series, to see if the author's gender influences the way the story is told and if that, in turn, influences the opinions of women vs. men as readers.

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. :)