BOUGHT:
It's not just the various characters and other elements from Toho's Mothra films and other monster movies used here. Rather, Campbell seems to draw inspiration for particular aspects from particular Japanese monster movies, mostly from the 1990s.
For example, her human protagonist Mira resents the title monster for her family's deaths in a kaiju battle, like the girl in 1999's Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris. This other monster is a brand-new, original kaiju named Antra who "was originally created by the Earth itself" to defend it, but ended up battling Mothra, not unlike Battra in 1992's Godzilla vs. Mothra. Antra has tiny little fairy priestesses of her own, who upon their initial appearances look like goth, bad guy versions of Mothra's Shohbijin, recalling Belvera, the bad fairy from the 1996-1998 Rebirth of Mothra trilogy. And, at one point, there's a time travel trip back to dinosaur times where we see prehistoric Mothra caterpillars, as in 1998's Rebirth of Mothra III.
For example, her human protagonist Mira resents the title monster for her family's deaths in a kaiju battle, like the girl in 1999's Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris. This other monster is a brand-new, original kaiju named Antra who "was originally created by the Earth itself" to defend it, but ended up battling Mothra, not unlike Battra in 1992's Godzilla vs. Mothra. Antra has tiny little fairy priestesses of her own, who upon their initial appearances look like goth, bad guy versions of Mothra's Shohbijin, recalling Belvera, the bad fairy from the 1996-1998 Rebirth of Mothra trilogy. And, at one point, there's a time travel trip back to dinosaur times where we see prehistoric Mothra caterpillars, as in 1998's Rebirth of Mothra III.
Which isn't to suggest that this series is in anyway derivative of any of those films. Rather, Campbell seems to rather deftly pull inspiration from those films (and the Toho catalog in general), transmuting a love of Japanese monster movies into an original comic book adventure, one that reads like the ultimate Mothra movie...albeit one that plays out on paper rather than a screen.
A long time fan of Campbell's, I was somewhat disappointed to learn that she wouldn't be drawing her first kaiju comic as well as writing it, although that disappointment immediately evaporated when I saw who she was collaborating with: Matt Frank, perhaps the ideal kaiju comic artist. And Campbell does provide some art; in addition to some of the covers, she draws short sequences in some of the comics and she seems to have worked closely with Frank on some of the character designs, a few of which look so much like the work of Campbell it's almost surprising to learn that she didn't draw them in the comic.
The tale opens with Mothra, looking much like she usually does in Toho's films, battling Antra, a scene in which Frank's coloring has a lot of grays and lighter, washed-out colors, save for characters he wants to visually pop, like the monsters, and twin sisters Mira and Emi.
Mira's family dies in the battle, and the world seems to end; this is a flashback, and, in the present, we see a grown-up Mira living in the hollowed-out skull of one of Antra's "drones", smaller versions of itself, scavenging in a ruined cityscape for survival, and fighting off the remaining drones with a slingshot (Her target practice involves shooting at little figurines of kaiju; one of these, who we only see part of in a panel, seems to be Godzilla; that's the big guy's only appearance in this book, which, by the end, will turn out to be fairly full of Toho's other monsters).
Mira's family dies in the battle, and the world seems to end; this is a flashback, and, in the present, we see a grown-up Mira living in the hollowed-out skull of one of Antra's "drones", smaller versions of itself, scavenging in a ruined cityscape for survival, and fighting off the remaining drones with a slingshot (Her target practice involves shooting at little figurines of kaiju; one of these, who we only see part of in a panel, seems to be Godzilla; that's the big guy's only appearance in this book, which, by the end, will turn out to be fairly full of Toho's other monsters).
And then her twin sister Emi, who apparently survived the Mothra/Antra battle 15 years ago, arrives, dressed in a red halter top, loincloth and body paint and carrying the Shobijin in a backpack. This version of the Shobijin is a rather unique one; the tiny beauties have bob haircuts, pupil-less eyes and feathery, moth-like antennae. Letterers Nathan Widick and Darran Robinson have a fun way of trying to convey their habit of speaking in unison, too; their dialogue bubbles are a deep pink with white type, and each bear two long tails that intertwine with one another, as if braided, before pointing to the heads of the characters talking.
By the end of the first issue/chapter (which I actually read when it was first released, thanks to Hoopla), Emi and the fairies have prevailed upon Mira to join them on a magical mission to save the world. Essentially, the fairies want the human twins to act as some sort of super-sized Shobijin, and using their song magic, travel back in time to the Mesozoic to recover a Mothra egg to bring back to the present.
By the end of the first issue/chapter (which I actually read when it was first released, thanks to Hoopla), Emi and the fairies have prevailed upon Mira to join them on a magical mission to save the world. Essentially, the fairies want the human twins to act as some sort of super-sized Shobijin, and using their song magic, travel back in time to the Mesozoic to recover a Mothra egg to bring back to the present.
They succeed, as revealed in a spectacular double-page splash, Frank drawing dinosaurs and other prehistoric reptiles that suggest the designs of Rodan, Titanosaurus, Gorosaurus and Anguirus. And in a surprising cliffhanger ending, two scary-ish, goth-punk looking Shobijin join the familiar ones, and are introduced as the "handmaidens of Antra."
The story moves fast. After a short prehistoric adventure, involving a Mesozoic Mothra caterpillar with its own prehistoric Shobijin, our heroines secure an egg and are able to travel back to the present...or at least pretty close to the present, as they arrive during the Mothra/Antra battle 15 years ago. They didn't come alone, though, as Megaguirus dragonfly monsters follow them through the portal, joining the fray, and turning the tide against the modern Mothra, who Antra ultimately defeats/defeated and kills/killed. (Megaguirus, by the way, hails from 2000's Godzilla vs. Megaguirus, where its origins similarly involve a prehistoric giant dragonfly coming through a portal; while that was the monster's only film appearance, it's shown up in IDW comics before, and its bug-like nature obviously makes it a fitting opponent for Mothra).
So now what? Well, Mira and Emi's new Mothra egg hatches, revealing what is by far the cutest Mothra caterpillar ever. Our heroines try to return to the present day, but overshoot, which gives a big panel in a dystopian future where a Mechamothra (another original character of Campbell's and Frank's) is shown battling a pair of three-headed dragons (One, grayish in color and with forelimbs, is apparently Rebirth of Mothra's Desghidorah, the other is presumably the familiar King Ghidorah...although the background and foreground also show Ghidorah-like one-headed dragons).
Eventually, our heroes make it to the right time period, and the new caterpillar weaves a cocoon, from which she emerges with a big "CHEEERNT" sound effect as the biggest, fluffiest, cutest Mothra I've ever seen, complete with a mane (see the cover above).
Mothra's not yet ready to tackle Megaguirus, renamed as "Omegaguirus" at one point, so our heroines begin to train Mothra. This involves a battle with Antra arranged by the pair of handmaidens, and then a bravura sequence in which Mothra tackles a whole series of "sparring partners" pulled from the Toho catalog: Titanosaurus, Anguirus, Gabara, Baragon, Rodan and Varan, Manda and, most surprising to me, Maguma, who, unlike all of the others, has never actually appeared in a Godzilla movie before (And while I haven't yet read every IDW Godzilla comic—I am working on it, though!—I don't think Maguma has previously appeared in any of those, either).
Who is Maguma? Well, Toho's 1962, Ishiro Honda-directed sci-fi film Gorath, about efforts to move Earth out of the path of a runaway star, features a scene where a giant, walrus-like monster emerges from the South Pole to cause trouble for the heroes. Like Manda then, who first appeared in 1963's Atragon, Maguma is something of an incidental monster from a Godzilla-less Toho sci-fi movie. Unlike Manda, who became absorbed into the Godzilla franchise with 1968's Destroy All Monsters, Maguma didn't later become a Godzilla character.
And why is this? Well, when Gorath made it to the U.S., it was stripped of its Maguma scenes, apparently because the monster looked too silly. (Maguma didn't make it into 2004's Godzilla Final Wars, the jukebox musical of Godzilla movies either, but the runaway star Gorath is mentioned).
You can see some images of Toho's Maguma here. Suffice it to say that Frank's version, who only appears in two panels, is infinitely cooler, more menacing and more realistic. As with all of Toho's monsters, Frank manages to adhere to their basic designs while animating them with a unique lifeforce, as if he were drawing the "real" versions of the monsters that the film studio was attempting to translate into a movie using the special effects technology available to them.
Ultimately, Campbell and Frank's Mothra powers-up in an unusual way, is renamed "Gemini Mothra" and, thanks to the monster vs. monster training montage and the song magic of Mira and Emi, is able to defeat the book's final boss monster, giving humanity a chance to restart the world. Heck, even Megagurirus seems to get a chance to start over, as an unexpectedly cute, baby version of it emerges at the end. Our heroines will apparently be able to raise it right, just as they did their Mothra.
Ultimately, Campbell and Frank's Mothra powers-up in an unusual way, is renamed "Gemini Mothra" and, thanks to the monster vs. monster training montage and the song magic of Mira and Emi, is able to defeat the book's final boss monster, giving humanity a chance to restart the world. Heck, even Megagurirus seems to get a chance to start over, as an unexpectedly cute, baby version of it emerges at the end. Our heroines will apparently be able to raise it right, just as they did their Mothra.
This might sound weird, given that Godzilla is not even in the series, but this is one of my favorite Godzilla comics to date, devoting as it does a smart script and page after page of gorgeous art to the characters and concepts of the Japanese giant monster movie.
It's not evident from the trade paperback's cover, but the content makes clear what spurred this particular return to the characters by their last writer Rainbow Rowell: Marvel's One World Under Doom event (The event's logo ran along the top of the covers of the serially published issues). As one member of the book's ensemble cast is a renegade Doombot, it certainly makes sense to check in on the team and see how he (and they) are being impacted by One World Under Doom.
This was the first time in memory I really appreciated the "Previously" recap on the inside front cover of a Marvel book, as I had completely forgotten where Rowell had left the team when the series was cancelled five years ago. Chase is in the future, Karolina is in space, and Nico is trying to hold the rest of their found family together in their most recent base (The Hostel) and supporting them by working at Trader Joe's Traitor Jim's (Why would anyone use the word "traitor" in the name of a grocery store? Unclear).
Now a squadron of Doombots are apparently scouring the world for errant Doombots—of which there are more than a few—telling the lost members of their flock "It is time to come home to Doom" and, if and when they resist, threatening, "In pieces, if necessary."
They eventually get to the Runaways' Doombot, named "Doombot", or, as he refers to himself, "Doom" (Although the cyborg Victor Mancha, Doombot's best friend, keeps urging him to take on a new name). Rowell does some interesting and fun stuff with this Doombot and the concept of identity, as he both thinks of himself as Doctor Doom himself (and often speaks that way), but simultaneously knows that he is a rebuilt and somewhat reprogrammed robot duplicate of the real Doom, who he is conscious of being a completely different entity.
Now a squadron of Doombots are apparently scouring the world for errant Doombots—of which there are more than a few—telling the lost members of their flock "It is time to come home to Doom" and, if and when they resist, threatening, "In pieces, if necessary."
They eventually get to the Runaways' Doombot, named "Doombot", or, as he refers to himself, "Doom" (Although the cyborg Victor Mancha, Doombot's best friend, keeps urging him to take on a new name). Rowell does some interesting and fun stuff with this Doombot and the concept of identity, as he both thinks of himself as Doctor Doom himself (and often speaks that way), but simultaneously knows that he is a rebuilt and somewhat reprogrammed robot duplicate of the real Doom, who he is conscious of being a completely different entity.
Doombot tells Victor more than once that he embraces this duality and, indeed, as Rowell writes Doombot, he certainly seems to hold these two contradictory ideas simultaneously and be able to easily navigate the duality in conversation and in relation to the other characters, as frustrating as it may be to Victor.
I hesitate to say that this is Doombot's story, even if the driver of the action involves Doctor Doom's other Doombots coming to return him home to Doom, and "our" Doombot and the Runaways resist them, alternately fighting and running from them. The climax involves a small army of Doombots—at least 20, according to one panel—launching an assault on the Runaways, who end up fighting for their lives against this overwhelming force.
That hesistance is because there's plenty of attention spent on most of the characters, as Chase and Karolina both return. So too does Alex. Most of that attention is devoted to Nico and Gertrude, as the latter coaches the former to pursue the use of magic, despite the fact that in a previous arc she had lost her Staff of One, the (corrupting) traditional source of all her magical power. (Molly seems to get particularly short shrift, as does Gib; Gib basically just fills out blank spaces in some backgrounds...in one case, one of the two artists who draw the series seem to have forgotten to draw Gib at all in a pivotal panel, and it's briefly unclear whether or not he was magically teleported along with the rest of the team or left behind.)
I hesitate to say that this is Doombot's story, even if the driver of the action involves Doctor Doom's other Doombots coming to return him home to Doom, and "our" Doombot and the Runaways resist them, alternately fighting and running from them. The climax involves a small army of Doombots—at least 20, according to one panel—launching an assault on the Runaways, who end up fighting for their lives against this overwhelming force.
That hesistance is because there's plenty of attention spent on most of the characters, as Chase and Karolina both return. So too does Alex. Most of that attention is devoted to Nico and Gertrude, as the latter coaches the former to pursue the use of magic, despite the fact that in a previous arc she had lost her Staff of One, the (corrupting) traditional source of all her magical power. (Molly seems to get particularly short shrift, as does Gib; Gib basically just fills out blank spaces in some backgrounds...in one case, one of the two artists who draw the series seem to have forgotten to draw Gib at all in a pivotal panel, and it's briefly unclear whether or not he was magically teleported along with the rest of the team or left behind.)
Programmed with Latverian and pro-Doom propaganda, Doombot has adopted the care of the children that make up the team as his raison d'etre, repeatedly spouting the Latverian virtue of tending to the well-being of children. As fun as the insights into this particular Doombot's kind of complicated psychology is, it's even more fun watching him react to the news about Doctor Doom who, in One World Under Doom, has apparently succeeding in kinda sorta conquering the world through magical force and a charm offensive, naming himself global emperor.
Doombot seems to turn on the television to watch Doctor Doom every chance he gets, responding "Indeed" and "Sensible" to the TV as Emperor Doom makes an address. It is only at the end that Doombot, realizing the inevitability of Doom and the fact that by resisting his fellow Doombots he's actually endangering the children he has elected to care for, that he decides to sacrifice himself, voluntarily leaving the team in order to return to Doom's fold, even though he realizes this likely means he will be reprogrammed, and lose the autonomy he now enjoys.
Of course, things don't work out quite that way, despite a rather emotional goodbye letter in which he perhaps coldly, robotically rattles off his assessment of each member of the team and what he prescribes for them. By the time he leaves, the army of Doombots has engaged the Runaways in what seems like a fight to the death...and the world has learned the whole truth about Emperor Doom and turned on him, leading to villain's off-panel downfall (I assume there was also a big fight involving lots of superheroes too, though).
In short, part of the source of Doom's newer, increased magical powers seems to involve the harming of children, in direct conflict with what Doombot believes...in fact, because that propaganda was programmed into his very being, "believes" probably isn't even a strong enough word for the degree to which such pro-Doom propaganda makes up Doombot's reality. It's certainly far more core than the actual action of Victor Von Doom.
Rather conveniently, Doombot happens upon a small-looking demonstration in which protestors chant "Down with Doom!" and burn Doctor Doom in effigy. He then stumbles into an electronic store where he sees a news report about how "the longtime villain was draining the souls of Latverian children to fuel his many global endeavors."
Doombot talks to himself as he witnesses the television news report:
Of course, things don't work out quite that way, despite a rather emotional goodbye letter in which he perhaps coldly, robotically rattles off his assessment of each member of the team and what he prescribes for them. By the time he leaves, the army of Doombots has engaged the Runaways in what seems like a fight to the death...and the world has learned the whole truth about Emperor Doom and turned on him, leading to villain's off-panel downfall (I assume there was also a big fight involving lots of superheroes too, though).
In short, part of the source of Doom's newer, increased magical powers seems to involve the harming of children, in direct conflict with what Doombot believes...in fact, because that propaganda was programmed into his very being, "believes" probably isn't even a strong enough word for the degree to which such pro-Doom propaganda makes up Doombot's reality. It's certainly far more core than the actual action of Victor Von Doom.
Rather conveniently, Doombot happens upon a small-looking demonstration in which protestors chant "Down with Doom!" and burn Doctor Doom in effigy. He then stumbles into an electronic store where he sees a news report about how "the longtime villain was draining the souls of Latverian children to fuel his many global endeavors."
Doombot talks to himself as he witnesses the television news report:
It cannot be...
In Latveria nothing is more precious than our children.
Every child is a child of Doom.
I...I...
I AM NOT DOOM!
I obviously don't know about the rest of One World Under Doom, but Rowell finds and exploits some pretty obvious parallels between the events of the Marvel Universe as described here and our own world, in which a genuinely bad guy is in charge, has convinced a significant portion of the (American) population that he's a good guy and reinforces his righteousness through a steady stream of television propaganda.
I mean, just as Doombot nodded along, agreeing with Doom's every utterance during an address, certainly plenty of our fellow American nod along in agreement to what they hear on the TV news.
I suppose then that it is with a degree of wish fulfillment that Doombot can see a single news report, accept it as the truth, and reject the propaganda that has led to his support of Doom and has, in fact, informed his very being.
I mean, in the real world, our propaganda-programmed, bad guy-admiring fellow Americans would simply say news that their leader and idol is, in fact, a bad guy and is, in fact, harming children, is fake news, and suspect the media of manufacturing lies, maybe using AI to smear their leader. I mean, our villain has alleged to have sexually abused children by some witnesses whose reports are in files of the Epstein investigation that have been released so far (and, at the very least, he had been long-time friends with two people convicted of sexually abusing children) and his administration has kidnapped, imprisoned and deported children. And yet, some 30% of his followers still support them.
If only more Americans were as persuadable as this robot duplicate of a comic book supervillain...
I mean, just as Doombot nodded along, agreeing with Doom's every utterance during an address, certainly plenty of our fellow American nod along in agreement to what they hear on the TV news.
I suppose then that it is with a degree of wish fulfillment that Doombot can see a single news report, accept it as the truth, and reject the propaganda that has led to his support of Doom and has, in fact, informed his very being.
I mean, in the real world, our propaganda-programmed, bad guy-admiring fellow Americans would simply say news that their leader and idol is, in fact, a bad guy and is, in fact, harming children, is fake news, and suspect the media of manufacturing lies, maybe using AI to smear their leader. I mean, our villain has alleged to have sexually abused children by some witnesses whose reports are in files of the Epstein investigation that have been released so far (and, at the very least, he had been long-time friends with two people convicted of sexually abusing children) and his administration has kidnapped, imprisoned and deported children. And yet, some 30% of his followers still support them.
If only more Americans were as persuadable as this robot duplicate of a comic book supervillain...
BORROWED:
Andrews is a very talented artist and storyteller, and he has an impressive range, able to work in a variety of different styles. He is particularly adept in this sort of unhinged '90s style, which he employs here, which can be a lot of fun to read; I saw a lot of Todd McFarlane, some Jim Lee and Erik Larsen and even a bit of Capcom (in Wolverine) while reading this, and much of the imagery is so over the top that it's clear that Andrews is doing something of a bit, as if there's an almost sarcastic edge to the '90s-ness of the art.
Quite surprisingly, though, there are also a handful of what can only really be considered art mistakes in the book, ones that often follow almost immediately on something that's meant to be funny. (I say surprisingly because Andrews is such a good artist, as well as being quite experienced at this point and hell, this is Marvel; editors really should catch little panel-to-panel continuity things, right?).
Clearly, Andrews is drawing like this on purpose, but he wouldn't also be doing a bad job on elements of the art on purpose too, would he? This isn't some extremely elaborate meta-commentary on both the excesses and overall quality of '90s Marvel comics, is it? One that writer Marc Guggenheim and the editors and publishers are all in on?
Here, let me give you some examples.
In the first issue/chapter, Peter Parker is on a coffee date with some lady who is not Mary Jane at an outside table (I am most certainly not up on Spider-Man continuity these days, so I have no idea what's going on with Peter's love life). A very Jim Lee-looking Logan simply appears astride a motorcycle right behind Peter, telling him he needs his help right this second. Wolverine speeding up to their table and apparently screeching to a halt inches away, so suddenly that he might as well have teleported? That's funny.
Here, let me give you some examples.
And then, at the bottom of the page, Logan speeds away with Peter behind him on the bike...and Peter and his date have a whole conversation of some half-dozen exchanges as the heroes drive away from her on a motorcycle, the string of alternating dialogue balloons looking like something out of an old issue of Spawn or, like, any Brian Michael Bendis comic.
One more.
Near the end of the book, Andrews draws a female character I have never heard of (but whom seems to be of some great importance to Spider-Man), and he draws her with both her breasts and butt jutted out to such an exaggerated degree that her spine is a perfect curve; she seems to be in the shape of a comma. Here, again, Andrews seems to be be making fun of the style he's imitating.
In the next panel, she fires a series of shots into the prone villain she has just downed, holding the gun in her left hand. In the very next panel after that, we get a close-up of her holding the smoking gun...but it's now in her right hand.
Again, I have no idea what was going on here, but such mistakes, while perhaps minor, are awfully frequent for a single story arc and are extremely distracting.
In the next panel, she fires a series of shots into the prone villain she has just downed, holding the gun in her left hand. In the very next panel after that, we get a close-up of her holding the smoking gun...but it's now in her right hand.
Again, I have no idea what was going on here, but such mistakes, while perhaps minor, are awfully frequent for a single story arc and are extremely distracting.
But let's talk about Guggenheim's story, shall we? Though it's entitled The Janus Directory, it could just as easily be called The Story's Maguffin or Two Random Words. It's just a plot device brought up and mostly dropped after the first issue, save for a bit in the denouement which resolves the big revelation and conflict driving the arc, resetting things to normal.
The connective tissue between the two characters that Guggenheim explores here is one that seems obvious enough that I'm kind of surprised no one else has done so before. (Or maybe they have; I guess I wouldn't know either way). Logan's long, pre-superhero life included a lot of mysterious work as a mercenary, intelligence agent and wetwork, right? And Peter Parker's parents were super-spies before they died, leaving Uncle Ben and Aunt May to care for him, right? (Um, unless you believe Mark Millar, I guess?)
The connective tissue between the two characters that Guggenheim explores here is one that seems obvious enough that I'm kind of surprised no one else has done so before. (Or maybe they have; I guess I wouldn't know either way). Logan's long, pre-superhero life included a lot of mysterious work as a mercenary, intelligence agent and wetwork, right? And Peter Parker's parents were super-spies before they died, leaving Uncle Ben and Aunt May to care for him, right? (Um, unless you believe Mark Millar, I guess?)
Well, what if Logan and Peter's parents had crossed paths back then? And what if it was Logan who was responsible for their deaths? Huh? What about that?
Guggenheim rockets through the set-up. By page three, an old spy associate (Bill Branscome? Ring any bells for anyone else?) has told Wolverine about the Janus Directory, "a master database of the world's double agents," which came into possession of SHIELD before they disbanded (SHIELD disbanded? I could really use some asterisks and footnotes here, Marvel!), making it the "intel equivalent of a loose nuke."
Guggenheim rockets through the set-up. By page three, an old spy associate (Bill Branscome? Ring any bells for anyone else?) has told Wolverine about the Janus Directory, "a master database of the world's double agents," which came into possession of SHIELD before they disbanded (SHIELD disbanded? I could really use some asterisks and footnotes here, Marvel!), making it the "intel equivalent of a loose nuke."
For reasons of plot convenience, Logan turns to Spider-Man for help (Actually, I think Wolvie says at one point he needs a computer guy, and Spidey being a nerd in his contact list is enough to qualify him). The heroes arrive at a secret SHIELD base in New York, and they are immediately beset by villains Kraven the Hunter, Omega Red and Mysterio (The latter's illusions blending the heroes' traumatic memories, so that Wolverine digs his way out of a grave and watches Green Goblin kill Mariko, while Spider-Man is crucified on an X and runs around snowy Canada in his underwear and Weapon X-style helmet, and so on).
When Spidey finally gets to the keyboard and has access to the directory, he decides to check out the final transmission of his parents, and here he sees Logan with a knife aboard their plane before it crashed. OMG! Logan killed Spider-Man's parents?!
This, obviously, leads to a fight.
This, obviously, leads to a fight.
Spidey kicks Wolvie from behind and then crouches over the prone X-Man, his muscles bunching up in such a way to make him look deformed, vowing in a red-rimmed dialogue balloon "...I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."
That's the end of the first issue. So yeah, pretty good cliffhanger!
The fight occupies the entirety of the second issue, which includes a double-page splash you have to turn the book on its side to look at properly. The pissed-off Spidey has the best of it for a while (Unfortunately for them both, because Logan's memories are so fucked-up, he can't outright deny that he didn't kill Peter's parents, because he himself doesn't know for sure that he didn't). Is this because Spider-Man really could take Wolverine in a fight, or because Wolverine is holding back? Unclear.
That's the end of the first issue. So yeah, pretty good cliffhanger!
The fight occupies the entirety of the second issue, which includes a double-page splash you have to turn the book on its side to look at properly. The pissed-off Spidey has the best of it for a while (Unfortunately for them both, because Logan's memories are so fucked-up, he can't outright deny that he didn't kill Peter's parents, because he himself doesn't know for sure that he didn't). Is this because Spider-Man really could take Wolverine in a fight, or because Wolverine is holding back? Unclear.
Wolverine stops holding back, however, when Spidey punches him so hard that he dislocates his jaw and hurls him into something that explodes, and he emerges with a broken jaw, a pretty gross series of images by Andrews showing his limp lower jaw wagging beneath his mouth, his tongue lolling around, and apparently in a berserker rage.
(I had to see it, so now you do too.)
Things then start to go Wolverine's way for a bit, and the one-issue fight finally ends when Wolvie seems to impale Spider-Man on his claws, shoving his fist into the web-slinger's gut hard enough that the claws come out of Spidey's back. End issues two. Again, pretty good cliffhanger!
Let's here pause to consider the question that Guggenheim raises with this issue: Who would win in a fight, Spider-Man or Wolverine?
Let's here pause to consider the question that Guggenheim raises with this issue: Who would win in a fight, Spider-Man or Wolverine?
It's a question I never considered before, having not been into Marvel comics at the age in which that might be a thing I would think or care about. Doing so now, I think Spider-Man should defeat Wolverine pretty easily, right?
The main problem seems to be how to maneuver them into a fight at all, and, perhaps, how to sufficiently motivate Spidey to fight as hard as the deadlier, more vicious Wolverine, but, well Guggenheim has already done that here.
The main problem seems to be how to maneuver them into a fight at all, and, perhaps, how to sufficiently motivate Spidey to fight as hard as the deadlier, more vicious Wolverine, but, well Guggenheim has already done that here.
Even given Wolvie's current more amped-up healing factor and assuming he now has some degree of super-strength, as would be necessary to lug around those metal super-bones of his, Spidey is stronger, faster, more agile and has his spidey-sense. Also, he can attack with his webbing from a distance, meaning he could wrap Wolverine up and incapacitate him pretty much as soon as the fight starts, right?
(So, how wrong am I? I have to assume that over the decades these two have fought once, or twice or twenty times before. Who usually wins when they fight?)
(So, how wrong am I? I have to assume that over the decades these two have fought once, or twice or twenty times before. Who usually wins when they fight?)
Guggenheim and Andrews seem to cheat a bit here, though, making Wolverine strong enough to simply tear his way out of Spider-Man's webbing (Again, am I in the wrong here? Wolverine's not supposed to be that strong, is he?). I mean, I'll definitely buy that Wolvie's claws can cut through steel-strong webs, but he shouldn't really be able to do that if he's all cocooned up like a mummy, right? Here he simply rips free of head-to-toe webbing.
Anyway, back to the plot. After Wolverine seemingly kills Spidey in a rage, the third issue/chapter opens with them in the Savage Land. Spider-Man's wound is now dressed and his red-and-blue suit has been replaced with his black costume ("Believe me, if I wanted you dead, you would be," Wolverine says by way of explaining how it was that running Spider-Man through with his claws didn't kill him). And Wolverine is now dressed in his brown and yellow costume with the big red belt.
Why? Well, because those costumes are pretty cool, I guess? And so are dinosaurs? So why not have them in the Savage Land in their old costumes?
Why? Well, because those costumes are pretty cool, I guess? And so are dinosaurs? So why not have them in the Savage Land in their old costumes?
For the remainder of the series, they will fight villains at various locations (Doctor Octopus joins the fray at one point) around the world, teleported from place to place, all at the behest of a new villain with a light saber and the presumably intentionally dumb name Dreadshadow (He's also a cyborg, naturally). He's organized all of this as part of an extremely expensive plan to get his revenge on Wolverine and Spider-Man for something they inadvertently caused that I won't spoil. That, and because he wants to prove a point.
Dreadshadow is ultimately killed by Teresa Parker, who is apparently Peter's sister...? (I actually shared the panels of her stabbing and shooting Dreadshadow to death above). She first appears in the second-to-last issue, wearing Wolverine-like clawed gloves, toting a gun that fires special Wolverine-killing bullets, and wearing a costume that changes pretty dramatically between the fourth and fifth chapters/issues (In the fifth issue, Andrews draws her with some sort of metal breastplate that looks more like she is wearing a steel bra outside her union suit).
This particular discrepancy isn't completely Andrews' fault, though. The fourth issue has a guest artist, Gerardo Sandoval, who inks his own work alongside Victor Nava.
This particular discrepancy isn't completely Andrews' fault, though. The fourth issue has a guest artist, Gerardo Sandoval, who inks his own work alongside Victor Nava.
He does a fine job and matches Andrews' energy and over-the-top style (I particularly like the way he draws the "ears" on Wolverine's mask, as rather than being static, they bend a bit depending on Wolverine's actions). 
Still, he's not Andrews, and, given that I was reading this to see Andrews go nuts with the awfully random-feeling plot elements Guggenheim challenges him with, I was a little disappointed to find a fill-in. (Also, issue #4 of a new ongoing series seems fairly early for a fill-in, doesn't it?).
Oh, and if you're worried that maybe Logan did kill the Parkers, rest assured that the footage was manipulated, and Spider-Man was just being an easy mark, as Guggenheim wanted a big Spider-Man/Wolverine fight. There are further ramifications, too, but they are for Teresa Parker, who I didn't even know existed, so they don't feel like a big deal to me personally, but perhaps they will for Spider-Man fans...? And/or Teresa Parker fans...?
While there are obviously some issues in this book, and it's not as good as it could be—and should be—it is still a lot of fun. I laughed a couple of times, and I had a good time with Andrews' art. I don't know that it's worth paying $17.99 for, but it's definitely worth seeing if your library has a copy.
REVIEWED:
No comments:
Post a Comment