Showing posts with label darth vader. Show all posts
Showing posts with label darth vader. Show all posts

Monday, January 01, 2018

Some Marvel trades I've read recently:

All-New Wolverine Vol. 4: Immune

The six issues in this collection comprise a single arc, so full of guest-stars that it makes a pretty solid argument that Laura Kinney has quite thoroughly replaced Logan as Wolverine and, like her predecessor, is a pretty important figure in the Marvel Universe. She also gets a new costume! The color scheme is that of a costume she wore while serving on one of the iterations of X-Force, and now it comes with a sporty jacket.

The reason? Well, probably to goose sales a bit--these are issues #19-#24, so rather late in a modern Marvel run, I guess--but, in-story, Laura's little sister Gabby makes an off-handed comment about how the new duds are bullet-proof. Sure, they have healing factors can recover from being shot with bullets, but that doesn't make getting shot with bullets any fun.

The pair are in the middle of some Wolverine-ing when Captain Marvel swoops down and carries Laura off to a SHIELD helicarrier where Nick Fury Jr. tells here that an alien space ship carrying a dying little girl has crashed onto Roosevelt Island outside. The girl manages to say the name  "Laura Kinney" before succumbing...and, it turns out, releasing some sort of super-alien disease.

Laura goes to investigate, while various Marvel super-geniuses--Beast, Amadeus Cho, Bobbi Morse, Peter Parker, Nadia Pym, Stephen Strange--try to figure it out. Ultimately, it turns out that Laura's healing factor allows her to take the disease in, literally sucking it out of the infected as if her body magnetically attracted it, and then burning it off, healing them. She can only take so much though, so Strange rounds up others that share her mutant healing factor power: Old Man Logan, Deadpool (who hits it off with Gabby immediately) and Daken, who is not wearing a shirt for some reason.

While the first half of the arc deals with Laura leading the others in dealing with the disease, the second half follows Team Wolverine into space with The Guardians of The Galaxy (at this point, their line-up is back to that of the first movie) to find out where the little girl was rocketed from. They end up finding an alien weapons research facility, a space Wolverine (Fang, from the Shi'ar Imperial Guard, who apparently met Laura outside of her own comic in the recent-ish past) and a mess of Brood.

It's all rather serviceable superhero business in terms of plotting, and writer Tom Taylor does a pretty good job of making Laura the center of it without having to force pieces to fit too hard (eventually there's even a pretty good explanation for why the infected girl said only Laura's name when she arrived).

I know in the past I've complained about Rocket Raccoon's rather casual embrace of killing his foes--to the point of murder--in front of the sorts of superheroes who aren't exactly fans of lethal force, but there's a pretty neat moment where his willingness to kill plays both as a joke and a character moment and seems more-or-less acceptable to all involved, despite the suddenness of the moment.

There are some great Jonathan (Gabby and Laura's pet actual Wolverine) in space, and I particularly enjoyed the scene in which he meets Baby Groot.

Artist Leonard Kirk manages to pencil all six issues, with three others inking his work, in addition to Kirk himself on three issues. It's pretty fine work, particularly considering all the various characters and the wildly divergent settings of the six issues. While the changes in inker are noticeable, they are not distracting nor terribly dramatic. As a single unit, this trade paperback is remarkably cohesive, not only telling a single story from start to finish within its pages, but also looking like every page and every issue belongs together.

I really like this Adam Kubert cover:
It took me a while to notice (It's also the back cover of the trade, so I saw the image a lot over the course of the week or so the book was in my house), but I like how Kubert posed Gabby's fists and claws lining up with Laura's, so it looks like she has the three claws that Logan had...or, if you look at it another way, like Laura does.


Daredevil: Back In Black Vol. 4--Identity

This volume collects issues #15-#20 of Charles Soule's run, and it is long enough that I had honestly forgotten all about the fact that there was no explanation given for how exactly the title character got his identity to be secret again after the events at the end of Mark Waid and Chris Samnee's run on the previous volume of Daredevil. That finally gets answered in a three-part story arc here, but first there's a two-parter in which Matt Murdock puts out a hit on Daredevil in order to draw out Bullseye...either in order to get a special serum from him that might help Blindspot, DD's protegee who lost his eyes in the previous collection, or to have Bullseye put him out of his misery. Suicide by supervillain.

Spoiler alert: He's tempted, but he fights back and wins.

Those issues are drawn by Goran Sudzuka, and they're pretty great, particularly since they give Sudzua the opportunity to draw all sorts of various low-level Marvel villains, both milling around in The Bar With No Name when a disguised Matt puts out the hit, or coming after Daredevil.

Regular artist Ron Garney returns for much of the arc that fills the rest of the book: "Purple." How did Matt get his secret identity back? Well, it's complicated and it is, as these things almost inevitably are, actually kind of dumb. It involves The Purple Man, The Purple Children and a massive mind-control machine that can beam mental commands to the whole world.. Once Kilgrave introduces his machine and his plan, you can immediately see how Daredevil will get his secret identity back.


Daredevil: Back In Black Vol. 5--Supreme

This is a bigger-than-usual trade from Marvel, collecting eight issues. The first chunk of those is pretty great, and the sort of Daredevil story that seems quite perfect because it's the sort of story that seems like someone really should have done by now, elements of it are so incredibly obvious, but, miraculously, no one has, so Charles Soule is there to do it. That Soule has a legal background also means that he's maybe the only writer on Marvel's roster who could do this particular story, or at least do it as well and as convincingly as he does it.

The story addresses a rather fundamental aspect of post-Silver Age superhero comics, and tries to address it and change it...because the change would be, in Daredevil's eyes, a good thing that would make the world a better place and could only be accomplished through the law, which is, of course, his particular field of expertise.

Essentially, he wants to establish legal precedence for masked, "secret identity" heroes like Daredevil and Spider-Man to able to give testimony in court without having to unmask and reveal their true identities. This would be a game-changer, as it means instead of tying criminals to telephone poles with notes or dropping them off in nets of webbing at the nearest police station would be a thing of the past.

It is, of course, a heavy lift, given that such heroes are vigilantes and, to a degree, criminals themselves. I don't know enough about any of the relevant issues to tell you if the arguments Soule has Murdock making in court are sound or not, but they sure sounded sound to my inexpert ear. And it is definitely fun to see issues of a comic book about a superhero lawyer devoted to legal drama every once in a while.

There is, of course, a personal stake in this for Daredevil too, since if the judge rules against him, he will be asked to unmask in court, and thus lose his secret identity. I imagine this would be a very dramatic moment if the character hasn't gone through several cycles of losing and regaining his secret identity, but, whatever.

That five-issue arc, "Supreme," follows Murdock's case as he works his way up from a district court all the way to The Supreme Court--and this, I guess, is the very first time Matt Murdock has argued a case before the Supreme Court which, again, seems like something that would have had to have happened by now, given how long the superhero lawyer has been starring in a monthly comic book series.

In addition to the legal drama, Matt has to patch things up with Foggy Nelson, in order to get his help with the case, and avoid the cluthes of Tombstone, who Kingpin Wilson Fisk has hired to snuff out Murdock. In one issue, She-Hulk saves Murdock--this was actually the first time I had seen the new, post-Civil War II version of She-Hulk, which is essentially the same as the original Hulk. Only a female. And she's gray now.

The big villain of the arc, however, isn't Tombstone or Kingpin, but the lawyer Kingpin hires, "Legal," a minor, humorous character from Soule's too-short run on the too-quickly-canceled She-Hulk series. He's a really fun character, and he gives a few great speeches about the raw power of the law and good lawyers.

The arguments before the Supreme Court are presented as a big fight scene, with the Justices jumping off the bench and physically attacking Murdock as they questions him. It's really a shame that artist Alec Morgan, who draws a big chunk of the arc, mostly just draws generic Supreme Court justices rather than sticking to the actual ones, although he does seem to draw Ruth Bader Ginsburg in there, delivering a flying kick to Matt at one point.

All that talk of the importance of the law throughout the arc is difficult not to relate to the current state of affairs in America, but the cliffhanger ending of the very last panels make it clear that Soule has hardly even gotten started at drawing parallels between the current political climate in the real world and Daredevil's world.

I would suspect that this were the end of Soule's run, were it not for that cliffhanger, actually, as "Superme," which features a legal career highlight for Matt Murdock is followed immediately by a story arc in which Daredevil travels to China to help Blindspot/Sam out of a jam that involves The Hand and a scary occult entity.

I rather liked the bit with the punching bag Kingpin was working, which was relatively subtly handled and, again, not something I had seen in a comic book before--at least not that I can remember--despite seeming obvious in retrospect.

I was rather disappointed by Matt putting away his black costume and putting on the older, red one, though. I liked the black one a lot, and I'm not sure how that will impact the name of the series of trade paperbacks, if he is no longer in black, but red.


Defenders Vol. 1: Diamonds Are Forever

Every Marvel Comics fan knows the four main heroes who make up the core of the publisher's famous "non-team": Daredevil, Luke Cage, Iron Fist and Jessica...Jones....?

Okay, so obviously they are just reassigning the name of the old Doctor Strange/Hulk/Namor/Silver Surfer team to a new group here--looks like the retained the old logo, though!--because Marvel Studios/Netflix has already done so for the street-level super-team show. Writer Brian Michael Bendis, who is so often involved with the publisher's attempts to synergize their comics with their mass media adaptations, is taking up the task of a new Defenders book with a line-up that lines up with that of the TV show.

It's an interesting move, given that the various Netflix shows seem pretty taken with Bendis' earlier Marvel comics writing. Bendis, after all, co-created Jessica Jones. He had a lengthy, five-year run on Daredevil. His love for Luke Cage is Internet legendary, as he entangled the character in his Alias run and kept him front and center of his time on the various Avengers books. While Bendis never wrote an Iron Fist series, the character's proximity to Cage meant that he was often showing up in Bendis comics, and he was on various Avengers line-ups during Bendis time on the titles.

For Defenders, Bendis doesn't really have too difficult a task of bringing his four heroes together. Two of them are already married to one another, after all, and two of them work out of an office together. All four are, in the comics universe, long-time friends and allies. So by the time the ten-page prelude story that appeared in Free Comic Book Day 2017 has ended, the premise is more-or-less established. There's a new criminal player in town, and he comes directly at the four superheroes on the cover, retaliating against a the guys' attack on a meeting of his.

That villain is Diamondback, who Netflix subscribers will recognize as the big bad from Luke Cage. This Diamondback looks nothing like either his Marvel comics predecessor or actor Erik LaRay Harvey's TV version, buy he seems to be back from the dead, and boasting super-powers that make him a physical threat to the super-powered characters. Interestingly, Bendis is using him in much the same way Cottonmouth was used in Luke Cage, where that particular snake-themed villain had a silent backer who was kept secret for a while, and ultimately turned out to be Diamondback himself. Here, Diamondback is repeatedly questioned not only about how he's alive and super-powered, but who is backing him, as his attempt to muscle in on New York City's crime scene seems too sophisticated and expensive for him to do solo.

Bendis peppers the first five issues with characters that also appeared in the Neflix-iverse: There's Night Nurse (here rather weirdly portrayed as an incredibly curvy, buxom lady in an old-timey nurse outfit that looks more like a "naughty nurse" costume now; I greatly preferred the Marcos Martin-drawn version from Doctor Strange: The Oath), The Kingpin, The Punisher, Misty Knight and, lurking around the shadows, Elektra. The most relevant character outside of the heroes and their main antagonist, however, is probably old Spider-Man frenemy The Black Cat, who has become the new Kingpin of Crime in Marvel's New York. Diamondback repeatedly meets with her to try and cajole or threaten her into working with him, but she keeps demurring, in large part because she doesn't know who he's working with or for. Their conflict leads to the rather shocking cliffhanger ending, which is shocking enough that it can't possibly be precisely what it looks like.

That, then, is the basic plot: Diamondback is back and trying to muscle in on Harlem and Hell's Kitchen, punching back hard enough at Daredevil, Cage, Jessica and Iron Fist that they form some sort of street-level Avengers to go after him. Other players with stakes in such matters flit in and out.

Bendis is writing in what, for him, is a particularly fleet and fast-paced style, but is still what one might call de-compressed; the trade ends without ever feeling like it has even approached a resolution, with all of the questions asked in the narrative remaining completely unanswered. I'm not sure if the book will just be canceled when Bendis leaves Marvel--it's not in March 2018's solicitations, but it also wasn't among the canceled titles that were recently announced--but, if so, then it looks like this iteration of "The Defenders" will be exactly one story arc long.*

I was much more interested in the choice of David Marquez, Bendis' partner on the stupid Civil War II comic, as his artistic collaborator here. Marquez's style is slick and smooth, and he handles the character moments as well as the action in these five issues perfectly fine, but his style is very much in a more traditional superhero school than, say, Michael Gaydos or Alex Maleev, Bendis' partners on Alias/Jessica Jones and Daredevil. This looks like a superhero comic, more than a crime comic, and it's by the guy who drew one of the publisher's more recent line-wide crossovers. It's sort of refreshing and, well, fun to see this guy drawing things like Daredevil slamming a high-knee into The Punisher's face, or Luke Cage ripping off a shirt, or Jessica Jones beating down Diamondback with a mailbox.

Oh, so Jessica Jones. Marquez's version of the character looks so different than that of Gaydos in Jessica Jones that it seems like he may never have actually read any comics featuring the character before. This is the most superhero looking Jessica Jones outside of a flashback scene I've seen in...maybe ever? I guess Mike Deodato used to draw her in the Avengers comics like Wonder Woman in jeans and a clingy blouse. He looks young and extremely slim, with long black hair several inches longer than that of the more dowdy, middle-aged, chestnut-haired Jessica Jones who can be seen in the Jessica Jones comics that Marvel is publishing simultaneous to this book.

Never forget
Marquez obviously based his design off of Krysten Ritter, which is fine, but it's still a little weird to see two Jessica Jones that look so different. I know style guides are obviously a thing of the ancient past, which is why we've seen things like Alex Maleev's What If...Robert DeNiro Played Namor? version of the Sub-Mariner in a Bendis-written comic before, but you would think that the editors could at least agree on Jessica's hair color.


Doctor Strange/Punisher: Magic Bullets

I was kind of curious about this four-issue miniseries based mainly on how random the pairing of characters seem, coming as they do from two very different corners of the Marvel Universe that rarely if ever intersect (a few issues of The Secret Defenders contained the only story I could think of in which the two of them had much of anything to do with one another).

Writer John Barber addresses this in the most efficient--and thus, perhaps the least interesting--way imaginable, by simply folding the two kinds of adversaries the pair fight individually into one. And so a couple of mob types team up with a wizard type, who gives them demonic powers and opens a portal to some infernal realm that allows for more such demons to pour into New York. The Punisher calls on Doctor Strange for his assistance, and the pair fight the demon-powered mobsters until the day is saved.

There's not a whole lot to it, then, although Barber does riff on an idea from Jason Aaron's run on Doctor Strange, the idea that only magic-types like Strange even see all the eerie creatures that occupy the same space as everyday New Yorkers, in a pretty neat scene where Frank Castle is machine-gunning down monsters with the ripped-out gun from the ghost plane of The Phantom Eagle, but, to the cops and passersby watching it go down, it just looks like he's holding a WWI antique and pantomiming shooting it, like a little kid playing army.

And I thought this passage, in which Strange arms The Punisher with a magic wand to fight their foes, was pretty inspired:


Oh, Frank! You're incorrigible!

Otherwise, this is mostly a mediocre exercise and mixing-and-matching. It was a miniseries, which is why I was pretty perplexed that there multiple artists. Fill-ins make sense on a monthly series, where there's a schedule that needs to be kept, but why did Marvel even solicit this book if they weren't sure it was going to get drawn on-schedule? It hardly mattered if a throwaway series like this started a month or five late, you know? But then, that probably has to do with some aspect of comics publishing I just don't understand, where individual comics are just units, and profits and budgets adhere to quarterly schedules or something, I don't know.


Jessica Jones Vol. 2: The Secrets of Maria Hill

I read Brian Michael Bendis, Michael Gaydos and company's Alias comic, of which this re-titled series is essentially a second volume of, as it was serially published in comic book format from 2001 to 2004, and I never re-read it. So I honestly don't remember exactly what the book looked like, but I also don't remember either hating or loving the art. In the year's since, though, I've grown to actively dislike Gaydos' artwork, which made reading this collection of issues #7-#12 much more of a slog than it might otherwise have been.

As David Marquez's work proves--to choose an artist whose Marvel comics work I had read within 24 hours of reading this--one can draw a comic book that is realistic and that deals with gritty crime subject matter without one's art necessarily needing to look like, say, dirty photographs.

This particular storyline is a bit heavier on action than other Alias/Jessica Jones stories have been, including a scene of multiple Maria Hills fighting an assassin on multiple levels of New York City (Life Model Decoys play a sizable role) and another scene where Jessica fights a Maria Hill LMD after a chase across rooftops. Such scenes just do not play to Gaydos' strengths--they tend to look like ugly Colorforms atop photorealistic backgrounds--and can be difficult to make sense of. There are several passages of the book that are two page spreads that are so uniform in layout that it is actually quite difficult to tell how to read them, if one's eyes are supposed to go across the entire top tier of both pages, then the bottom tier across both pages. Or across the top tier of the first page, then the bottom tier of the first page, and then the same on the facing page. Or, most counterintuitively, up and down in each column, all the way across the spread. The artwork offers no real clues, nor does the script--these action scenes are usually wordless--and they make as much (or as little!) sense read in any of the different ways one can read them (This, I should note, is something I've noticed in other Bendis-written comics, and thus isn't entirely Gaydos' fault, although ideally good comic art guides the reader's eye through it).

There are also scenes that require Gaydos to draw things that just don't fit in his style--water, explosions, electrical blasts--which always tend to just look like the artwork is getting really pixilated. As long as the subjects are cityscapes and people talking, he's on sure footing. Almost everything else though looks off. Take, for example, Typhoid Mary's hair during her brief appearance. It...is not even a drawing of hair, but it looks like a computer tool was used to cut the hair off of one photograph and then paste it atop the head of another photograph. It is extremely off-putting.

It's really too bad, because Bendis' scripting here really isn't that bad--occasionally incomprehensible action scenes aside. Super-spy Maria Hill, the former SHIELD commander, is on the lam, trying to evade the assassins coming to collect the substantial bounty on her head and SHIELD, who are after her too (I think for reasons seen in Captain America: Steve Rogers, but I guess it's not too terribly important). So, in an attempt to be as unpredictable as possible, she writes a ranked list of all the super-people she would turn to for help, and then turns to the one that ranked last. She asks Jessica Jones to find out who put the hit on her.

This involves LMDs, assassins, Sharon Carter and SHIELD, The Hobgolin and even an unlikely meeting with Maria Hill's father. Luke Cage gets a fair amount of panel-time too, as Jessica continues to try and mend her relationship with him, following their estrangement and the circumstances that lead to it in the previous collection.

The best part, by far, is when Javier Pulido shows up for a flashback sequence to an early-ish assignment in Hill's career as an agent of SHIELD, which, as was often the case with Alias's flashbacks, told in the visual style of an older Marvel comic (Here, Pulido's distinctive art style is applied to a 1970s-era SHIELD comic). I know Pulido's artwork, which I love, is a little too cartoony and too flat and flashy for a lot of readers, but whether you care for it on an aesthetic level or not, there's no argument that the storytelling is as clear as a bell, and even when Pulido gets rather artsy and avant garde with his layouts, they are still super-easy to read, one panel leading quickly and efficiently to the next.

While the intended juxtaposition of the clashing styles works exactly as it's supposed to, it has the probably unintended effect of highlighting the deficiencies of Gaydos' work. How much better this book might have been had Pulido just drawn the whole dang thing.

The story works pretty well. Aside from the personal life drama that carried over from the previous collection, the book is pretty self-contained, with the Maria Hill storyline's beginning, middle, ending and coda all fitting snugly between the covers of this single issue. Despite the "2" on the spine, one could pick this book up without any previous knowledge of who Jessica Jones is and what her whole deal is and make sense of it...with only the action scenes and Gaydos' peculiar way of rendering smoke and water to confuse one.


Star Wars: Darth Vader: Dark Lord of The Sith Vol. 1--Imperial Machine

Marvel Entertainment published its first new Star Wars comic after securing the license to once again make Star Wars comics in early 2015, immediately following the main title with a Darth Vader "ongoing" series. That series, Star Wars: Darth Vader lasted just over two years, producing 25 issues, collected into four trade paperbacks. Then it was time to "cancel" Darth Vader and immediately relaunch it with a slightly different title and a new #1 issue.

The Star Wars-branded comics might be selling a great deal better and more reliably than most everything else Marvel is releasing these days, but that seems to be in spite of Marvel, as the publisher is subjecting the invincible brand to the same poor decisions that drag the rest of their comics line down, including over-production** of titles and random relaunches like this.

To be fair, they did take advantage of the relaunch to shift focus to a new time period. While the more simply titled Star Wars: Darth Vader was set in the same between-Episodes IV-and-V time period as its sister book, the new Darth Vader: Dark Lord of The Sith title is set immediately following the events of Episode III. And I do mean immediately; it actually opens with a two-page spread recreating the much derided "Nooooooooooo--!!!" scene. (Here, however, it is rendered as a simple, but oversized and bolded, "No.")

The new creative team of writer Charles Soule, pencil artist Giuseppe Camuncoli and inker Cam Smith focus on Vader's transition from Jedi to Sith, which means instead of the Imperial in-fighting of Kieron Gillen, Salvador Larroca and company's run on the previous Vader book, now we are invited to watch Anakin-turned-Vader as he makes his first halting steps toward becoming the villain we know from Episodes IV, V and VI.

The first five issues of this six-issue collection involve Vader's quest for a light saber of his own. Apparently, Sith don't just use red light sabers because red is their second favorite color after black. No, apparently they must take a light saber from a Jedi, and then, as The Emperor tells Vader, the Kyber crystal inside it must be "made to bleed."

Finding a still-living Jedi whose saber he can take forcefully is in itself a challenge, and we know he doesn't find Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda or Kanaan to take theirs. Instead, he finds a master who has conveniently taken some special Jedi vow to stay out of Star Wars canon until he becomes narratively convenient, which he does here. So the bulk of the book involves a quest of sorts, a right of passage in which Vader must use his formidable Force powers to cruelly kill a whole bunch of people, friend and foe alike, to get a kyber crystal and then, in a surprisingly effective scene, forge his own light saber.

In a way, this is a perfect Star Wars story, in that it takes some extremely trivial aspect of the original movies, something that was perhaps chosen without a great deal of forethought from the filmmakers--that is, what color Vader's light saber should be--and then invested with shared universe mythology until an epic story can be spun around it. (Hell, perhaps the best of the eight extant Star Wars films, Rogue One, was itself a feature-length explanation of why there was an unshielded section of the Death Star in the very first film's climax).

In the sixth chapter, Vader meets The Inquisitors from the Rebels TV shows, and has a brief battle with The First Inquisitor. This was the first time who the hell they are and what their deal was really explained to me, despite the fact that I watched the first two seasons of that show (where it seemed they were basically just there to give the heroes someone to have laser sword fights with).

I did not much care for Larroca's artwork at all--although a Darth Vader comic was maybe an ideal mainstream comic for a guy like Larroca, who is better at drawing machinery than human faces--so I found Camuncoli's to be a great improvement. Despite the frozen face, his Vader is an infinitely more dynamic and dramatic figure than Larroca's was, and I especially dig his take on The Emperor, who looks like a sentient grin in a robe.

The Soule/Camuncoli/Smith comic is followed by a humorous, 10-page short by Chris Eliopoulos in which Vader force chokes a series of Imperial underlings for one disappointment or another, while an increasingly anxious mouse droid--those little things that look like autonomous toy trucks and that i think are meant to clean the halls of Death Stars and Star Destroyers--tries to prep Vader's meditation chamber. It's fun to see the iconic movie villain rendered in Eliopoulous' Charles Shculz and Bill Watterson-inspired style, particularly since Eliopoulos seems to import all of the poses from the first film or two, so his Vader looks familiar but Eliopoulos-ized throughout.

Closing the book, I noticed the back cover proclaims Vader "The Most Fearsome Villain of All Time"...which seems like a weird thing for the publisher that created Doctor Doom to say about a comic featuring a licensed character. Stan Lee must be so disappointed.


X-Men Blue Vol. 1: Strangest

When Brian Michael Bendis took left the Avengers franchise and took over the X-Men franchise, he kicked off his run by bringing the original five founding X-Men forward in time into the present. That was in late 2012 or so, and in the five years since, the team has starred in three different books, relaunched with new titles and new writers twice since Bendis launched All-New X-Men.

That 41-issue run was followed by Dennis Hopeless, Mark Bagley and company's All-New X-Men: Inevitable--that sub-title appearing attached to the trade paperback collections, not the serially-published issues--that lasted about half as long, and, most recently, this book by writer Cullen Bunn and artists that included Jorge Molina and Julian Lopez. Why are these X-Men designated "Blue" instead of the somewhat ironic "All-New"...? Well, Marvel's latest attempts to keep their too many X-Men teams straight have involved color-coding (There was also X-Men: Gold and, soon, an X-Men: Red, in addition to an Astonishing X-Men and various solo titles and spin-offs).

The premise of this third book finds the five founding teenage X-Men rather firmly established in the present, working with Magneto out of a base in Madripoor. The Master of Magnetism is a particular favorite of Bunn's apparently, and while these X-Men are even more suspicious of him than their peers--since, in their time, he was still a super-villain, and had yet to become a more morally-conflicted ally of the X-Men as he's been for the last decade or so of Marvel comics--they keep their suspicions to the psychic conversations that have.

Jean is now their field leader, Beast has been experimenting with magic as he started doing in the previous iteration of their book, and they've all got another set of new costumes, although they are not too terribly blue, as one might expect from the title (I like their boots though).

In these first six issues, Bunn sets them up against familiar, even tired X-Men villains: Black Tom Cassidy, The Juggernaut, a Wendigo, Sentinels, Bastion and a Sinister. Some of them are different takes certainly, as is the case with altered or "mutated" Sentinels Bastion creates, but, well, that doesn't help keep the book's issue-by-issue plotting feel any less exhausted.

Speaking of exhaustion, a few issues in the team gets its own teenage Wolverine. Not Laura Kinney, who ran with them through much of both Bendis' and Hopeless' All-New X-Men, but Jimmy Hudson, the son of Ultimate Wolverine from the Ultimate Universe, who is basically just Wolverine, but young and blond. Between him and Old Man Logan, who is just a gray-haired version of Wolverine, I'm not exactly sure how we're supposed to miss the original if he never actually goes away (And actually, isn't he already back?).

The art is mostly strong, but all over the place, with no less than 10 different artists involved, some offering just pencils, others just inks, others credited merely as "artists." No one seems around long enough to help define the book's look or feel.

Arthur Adams provides the covers though, and he was a ridiculously good job. Most of these are merely team action poses, featuring a handful of characters running and flying toward the viewer, but the cover for the sixth issue, where Hank, Jean and Jimmy are surrounded by about 30 impeccably rendered toughs bearing screwdrivers, chains and various blunt objects it would be no fun at all to hit with?
That is a bravura cover. It appears in the trade unencumbered by the title and the various other verbiage and design elements that, in the above image, obscure various figures.


Zombies Assemble Vol. 1

Yes, like many of you, I assumed I had already read all of the Marvel Zombies comics I was ever going to read, but this one has a few things going for it that the thousands before it did not. First and foremost, it is a manga series produced by Yusaku Komiyama (Unless C.B. Cebuslki can raw too, an this is him posing as a Japanese creator again, I don't know). Secondly, it set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which is actually remarkably rare.

It was honestly a lot of fun to see Komiyama drawing those versions of the characters, and rather remarkable to see an artist draw a Tony Stark that looks simultaneously like Robert Downey Jr. and a manga character (All of Komiyama's likenesses of the male characters are pretty spot-on, but his Black Widow and, especially, his Pepper Potts don't look anything like the actresses playing them).

The plot? Pepper has organized a surprise birthday party for Tony, attended by his fellow Avengers (circa the first movie). But when a weird-looking zombie staggers in, they've got a crisis to deal with. Apparently, there is a Chitauri virus that turns people into zombie-like monsters, although it doesn't seem to necessarily kill them, since both Black Widow and Thor become infected and zombified (and obviously the book's not going to kill off like one-third of the Avengers line-up).

From there, it's a race against the clock to stop the virus from spreading and cure the infected, while fighting any zombies that arise.

There are three chapters to the story, which Marvel previously published as over-priced comic book-comics, and then a #0 issue, that has nothing to do with zombies or the story that precedes it, but instead stars Iron Man and Pepper Potts, and is a kinda sorta prequel to Avengers: Age of Ultron.



*But hopefully not! I want Chelsea Cain and Kelly Thompson to take over the two Jessica Jones books--Jessica Jones and Defenders--and I don't much care which writer gets which title. In my dream world, Gurihiru and Brittney Williams will be the artists of those two books. Because I want my gritty, street-level Marvel superhero crime comics to be both funny and cute, dammit!


** This past November, for example, Marvel published two issues of Star Wars, two issues of Darth Vader, one issue apiece of ongoing monthlies Star Wars: Doctor Aphra and Star Wars: Poe Dameron and an issue of the miniseries Star Wars: Jedi of The Republic--Mace Windu. That's seven books at a cost of $27.93 spread across five Wednesdays. If you read Marvel's Star Wars line, how much money do you have left to follow the adventures of, say, a Spider-Man or an X-Men team...?

Saturday, October 15, 2016

These are some of the Marvel collections I've read lately:

All-New X-Men: Inevitable Vol. 1–The Ghosts of Cyclops

Some eight months or so have passed since the end of the previous volume of All-New X-Men, and something very dramatic has happened involving Cyclops, The Inhumans and the Terrigen Mists during that time–something that lead to Cyclops' death and the whole world hating and fearing him all over again.

That gap, and the mysterious events that occurred during it, have allowed writer Dennis Hopeless to begin his new volume of the title somewhat in media res. The first half of this six-issue collection is essentially a putting-the-team-together story, while the second half sets up their new status quo and sets them against some classic X-Men villains.

Hopeless has inherited not only the title, but also most of the cast of Brian Michael Bendis' series: The original five X-Men, who were pulled from the past to the present in order to try and talk sense to grown-up Cyclops, and not only did they fail, but they all got stuck here.

Of those five, Teen Jean is MIA (she's appearing in Jeff Lemire's Extraordinary X-Men, which is by far the less interesting and entertaining of the two books, at least in my opinion). Teen Iceman is hanging out in Austin, Texas. Teen Angel is still dating Laura, former X-23 and current All-New Wolverine, and they are hanging out in Vail, Colorado. Teen Beast is driving around the country in a VW bus-pulled camper called The Nerd Wagon, which has a Bamf-powered engine that allows them to teleport as need be. For reasons never made clear, recent Jean Grey School graduates Evan and Idie are with him (All that Teen Beast and friends would seem to have in common with these two X-teens are their relative ages; they never really hung out with them in the previous volume of All-New X-Men or in Wolverine and The X-Men).

Those two really stick out because, unlike Laura, who was part of Bendis' team, they are new, seemingly random additions, and Hopeless hasn't made much of a case for either of them being needed here. Idie at least brings some diversity to the otherwise all-white, mostly male team, but Evan? Well, I suspect he's here because the next collection will feature an Apocalypse-related cross-over, but I guess that remains to be seen.

Oh, and what of Teen Cyclops? Well, he's half laying low, dodging his friends and any attention, given the fact that his grown-up self went on to do...something pretty bad (And he'd already conquered the world and killed Charles Xavier in Avengers Vs. X-Men, becoming a wanted terrorist). But he's also tracking some new gang of mutants calling themselves "The Ghosts of Cyclops"; they don masks reminiscent of Cyke's last mask, speechify and basically just knock around tables and commit petty crime.

Teen Cyclops obviously takes that pretty personally, and sets about trying to take them down solo. He does pretty well too, given that they are just a group of untrained college kids with no real idea what they are doing, but he gets in over his head enough that the rest of the team unites to help him and, eventually, make him realize that he needs them after all.

From there, they become a more-or-less normal supehero team, teleporting all over the world to save people from natural disasters and the like. In Paris they run into The Blob, here given a fun, funny motivation for a life of crime, and Hopeless toys with the idea that their old enemy has had years to become a better, more experienced fighter, one used to trading blows with the more powerful adult versions of the X-Men, while they are still essentially "Year One" era teenagers who have yet to log many hours in the Danger Room (This is perhaps somewhat undercut by the idea that the X-Teens have been here a good long while now and should have gotten used to the idea of not underestimating the modern versions of losers from their past, and the presence of Laura and Angel's Black Vortex power upgrade).

The volume ends with a cliffhanger, as Toad too is in Paris, and attacks and kidnaps one of these X-Men, which seems to be in sharp contrast to the more benign Toad of Jason Aaron's Wolverine and The X-Men but, again, who knows what happened during the eight-month gap.

Hopeless seems very much dedicated to the idea of an old-school, classic superhero team comic here, as is readily apparent by the fact that he's not writing for the trade, as there's a three-issue arc and another that is at least four issues long, only the first three chapters of which appear here.

Additionally, each of the characters has a sub-plot of some sort that isn't bound to the particular story arc, but continues as a through line in all of these issues, and will likely to continue to do so. The most prominent of these is probably the tension between Angel and Wolverine; All-New Wolverine seems intent on taking point in any and all dangerous situations in a way that is reckless to the point of seeming insane. As when she throws herself off a cliff to beat Angel to the bottom of the hill while skiing. For fun.

Obviously, Angel has a hard time watching his girlfriend constantly taking bullets and setting herself on fire, and more than once vomits at the violence she subjects herself to, on the belief that her healing factor will help her recover from anything. Having also recently read the first collection of All-New Wolverine (and the annual, which was fun and funny), this portrayal seems somewhat at odds with how she appears in her own book, but, as with all of the sub-plots, it's a story-in-progress.

Hopeless is lucky enough to be working with pencil artist Mark Bagley (inked here by Andrew Hennessy), and not only has Bagley's career made him pretty much the ideal candidate for a Marvel comic featuring teen heroes and/or classic, old-school superheroics, but he's one of the few artists who is fast enough that he doesn't need fill-in artists to help him make a monthly, or even a more-than-monthly schedule, so that this collection is all Bagley and Hennessy, from start to finish.

I'm not sure why the book is called All-New X-Men: Inevitable on the spine and in the fine print but not the actual covers of the actual comics, but I suppose at the very least it will help separate it from the other collections of All-New X-Men with the same volume numbers on the spines of the collections.

Of the three books featuring X-Men teams Marvel is currently publishing, this is my favorite, and the one I would recommend, on the strength of its relative quality and its distancing itself from any X-Men mega-plot involving M-Pox and Inhumans and whatnot (The third, Uncanny X-Men, is drawn by Greg Land, so I didn't even bother looking at that one, nor will I).

Daredevil: Back In Black Vol. 2–Supersonic

So different was this second collection of Charles Soule's Daredevil run that I actually had to check the spine a few times to make sure that this was, indeed, the second volume of the series I had previously read, rather than the third. While that first volume read like a graphic novel, this one reads like a few chapters of one, and is different enough from that last volume that it honestly felt like I had missed a half-dozen issues or so.

Right from the first issue–or the cover, actually–we find ourselves in familiar, over-played Daredevil territory, with Elektra. In a two-part story, drawn not by Ron Garney, but Matteo Buffagani, Elektra attempts to kill Daredevil because she thinks he has done something with her daughter, who may or may not be Matt Murdock's. Matt, like the reader, didn't even know she had a daughter, and, it turns out, she didn't–it was some sorta mind control business to get her to kill Daredevil.

Blindspot, Daredevil's new sidekick introduced last volume, appears but briefly. Long enough to slow down a killing blow from Elektra, and get his arm broken for his effort. He later appears in a page set at Night Nurse's clinic. (Yay! Night Nurse!). With the post-Secret Wars Daredevil having his secret identity back, he and Elektra are on some particularly weird footing, as he knows she used to know, and now she doesn't, which he realizes puts her in sort of a horrible spot (She thought she was cheating on him...with himself). Soule commits a fairly cardinal sin of these sorts of soft reboot/continuity-altering shenanigans: If you have to deal with them at all, for God's sake, don't dwell on them. The next two issues, he dwells on them some more, however.

In those, drawn by Goran Sudzuka rather than Ron Garney, Matt goes to Macau to use his powers to win a ton of money at poker in a casino, which is all part of an elaborate–but fun to read!–plan to get to stay at a particular floor of a hotel, close enough to a briefcase full of something mysterious he needs, that has something to do with the Elektra story (He later says what is in the case, but it seems like he may have been lying). Spider-Man shows up for this story, as in the Peter Parker version, and Spidey knows something's not quite right with Daredevil, but he can't put his finger on it. Because Spidey too used to know Daredevil's secret identity, and know doesn't, and so there is still more talk of this (and a fun little game of keep-away as Spidey tries to press the issue).

This is actually the first time I've read a story featuring the new, post-Secret Wars Spidey and I'm not sure how I feel about that glowing costume. It's looked just fine on the Alex Ross-painted covers I've seen, but looks kind of weird and awkward here.

And that is that. Rounding out the collection if Daredevil Annual #1, which features a 20-page lead story written by Soule and a 10-page back-up by an entirely different creative team. They are unrelated to one another, an unrelated to the four issues of the main series that preceded them.

The longer, Soule-written story is a team-up with Echo in which they encounter a new form of Klaw, who spreads himself like an infection, transforming anyone who hears him into sound wave people. Echo, being deaf, is conveniently immune. She goes to Daredevil and the Emergency Broadcast System for help. It's a fine little story, mostly notable for artist Vanessa R. Del Rey's squiggly artwork and dramatic, elaborate lay-outs (My favorite part is a minor, silly detail, in which Echo seems to stop and take the time to tie feathers into the bandages she wraps around her forearms for absolutely no reason other than the fact that it's kinda sorta her costume; it's not like she dons a mask or any sort of identity-concealing, practical gear.

The 10-pager that closes out the volume is by writer Roger McKenzie and artist Ben Torres, and functions as a kinda sorta origin story for some dumb villain named Gladiator with circular saw blades mounted on his forearms. Torres only rarely seems to draw them in motion, which seems like it defeats the purpose of having such blades mounted on your forearms. It's not a bad story, but it's not a good one either; one imagines we'll be seeing the character in the future, as otherwise this is just kind of a head-scratching page-filler that helps justify using the Echo story in an annual instead of holding it as a fill-in issue.

So no Garney, almost no Blindspot, no complete story and predictable Daredevil enemies and allies–aside from the new costume and color scheme, this second collection was almost nothing that the first volume was, and suffered accordingly.

E Is For Extinction: Warzones

There is a sort of almost essential element of pointlessness to all of Marvel's 2015 Secret Wars tie-ins, which were almost all "What If...?"-style miniseries meant to kill time and fill slots in the publishing schedule, but that pointlessness could be insidious, as it could make one wonder what about these random, non-canonical miniseries was really any more pointless than any other super-comic? The whole endeavor, as much fun and as well-made as many of these series were, brought with it a sort of existentialist dread.

This one's a good example.

Its writers Chris Burnham and Dennis Culver and artist Ramon Villalobos doing an extended riff on Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely's 2001 relaunch of the X-Men franchise, taking as its title that of New X-Men's first story arc. A decade and a half later, that three-year Morrison run (Quitely didn't stick around for much of it), seems stronger now than it was then, and then it was like a punch in the face (Here I might suggest you go read Paul O'Brien's review of this collection, as he is the best writer about the X-Men I know of, and does a far better job of contextualizing New X-Men in franchise history than I ever could).

But what's the point of it, other than to remind readers how great Morrison and Quitely's run was? To pull out old costumes and concepts, point at them and say, "This was cool, wasn't it?" To maybe try and condense the broad themes and storytelling models of that series into just 80 pages?

I'm not sure there is one. I'll be damned if it wasn't fun to revisit that era and its concepts, anyway.

Zagging where New X-Men zigged, Charles Xavier shoots himself in the head with two guns to get Cassandra Nova out of his head. Why two guns? Because that makes an artful, X-shaped blood splatter on the blank wall in one of those big, clean, Quitely-like settings.

From there, we jump ahead an undisclosed amount of years into the future ("X Years Later," naturally). Now Magneto  has opened "The Atom Institute," and he leads a new team of New X-Men: Beak, Angel, Glob, Quentin Quire, Basilisk, The Stepford Cuckoos, Dust, Ernst and Martha. Meanwhile, the surviving "old" New X-Men–Cyclops, Wolverine, Emma Frost and Beast–struggle with their fading powers and feelings of irrelevance. They are here cast as the Neanderthals, and Magneto's students as the homo sapiens in the evolutionary metaphor that Morrison pursued.

The U-Men, District X, Xorn, evil white Beast, the Phoenix business, Wolverine killing Jean Grey, plus all those other characters previously mentioned, plus the costumes and colors and concepts of New X-Men...this is the comic book equivalent of a cover song, maybe a concept album full of covers from another band. It works. But it makes me feel weird though, as I contemplate meaning vis a vis superhero comics books.

Included in the back, in large part to give this enough pages to be collected into a trade, is the first issue of Morrison and Quitely's New X-Men run. In part, this is a smart move, as it provides a great bridge. Like what you just got done reading? Well, here's the first issue of the run that inspired it. Like that? Then you, my friend, need to invest in some trades.

On the other hand, it underscores how different Villalobos art actually is from Quitely's, something that's not as readily apparent when you're not looking at them side by side. DC should get Villalobos to do his Quitely impression for some Superman and Batman and Robin books.

Power Man and Iron Fist Vol. 1: The Boys are Back In Town

Well this was a blast.

David Walker and Sanford Greene reunite the original Heroes For Hire for...well, for no reason, really. Mostly because Iron Fist wants to re-team with his best friend Luke Cage to have adventures together all the time again, but Luke's grown-up and has a wife (Jessica Jones) and kid (Danielle) to take care of.

The pair meet to pick up their old Heroes For Hire secretary or administrative assistant (depending on who you ask) when she's released from prison, take her out for dinner and help her recover a necklace of her grandmother's that fell into the hands of a notorious Marvel gangster.

It turns out to be a lot less simple than that, as their friend turns out to be in cahoots with bad guy Black Mariah (this version quite different than the corrupt politician version on Netfliex's Luke Cage) and the necklace turning out to be the fabled street magic artifact The Supersoul Stone. Suddenly, a bunch of minor Marvel villains of the mostly silly variety are gunning for Luke and Danny.

While the plot is played pretty straight, Walker seems to have taken some delight in rounding up off-beat characters to throw at his heroes, some of whom only make cameos. The dialogue is quick and clever in buddy cop movie fashion, with much of the tension coming not from any kind of racial dynamic, but because of the fact that the heroes are in such different places in their lives and, while they enjoy one another's company and have history, they aren't exactly on the same page any more.

Regarding racial dynamics, Walker touches on it with the whole idea of "street magic" and the Supersoul Stone, something that Luke insists everyone in Harlem has grown-up hearing about, but which rich white guys Iron Fist and even the Sorcerer Supreme himself Doctor Strange have never even heard of ("There are as many forms of the mystical arts as there are martial arts, and no practitioner of either can master all," Strange tells them, "Nor are all worthy of mastering.")

Luckily neighborhood magician Senor Magico is there to set them straight.

Greene's art, like Walker's dialogue and character choices, tends towards the light. His Cage is pretty much a walking sight gag, drawn as enormous, almost elaphantine in size, and generally stuck in small spaces, like a booth at the Excelsior diner or a tiny rental car that Jessica forces him to get when she needs the family car one day.

This is the kind of book where Ruby Tuesday and Gorilla-Man (not to be confused with Gorilla Man) are as likely to show up as Tombstone or Jessica Jones, where you can find a character referring to Strange as a "pendejo" or hear the words "Fistball Special" and jokes about how hard it is to brand something with the word "fist." I loved it.

It's the kind of comic that, had it been published 15-years ago, would have been relegated to a "street-level" comic, but here it's really more "neighborhood level," and while there is crime and violence in it, it's all cartoonish enough that it lacks the sort of grit and grime that it would have had back in the days of the Marvel Knights imprint. Rather, this books is spiritually closer to something like Ms. Marvel, All-New Wolverine or Spider-Woman (Jessica Drew actually  gets an amusing cameo, rooting for Luke's shirt to get ripped off during a fight), with one foot in the "funny" side of Marvel's funny book line (Howard The Duck, Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, Patsy Walker, etc) and one foot in the serious side of the line (Daredevil, the X-Men and Avengers books, etc).

That story about the Supersoul Stone fills up four-fifths of this collection, while Flaviano replaces Greene for the fifth issue, a done-in-one story. Centered around radio personality Jimbo's show, "The Yo, Jimbo Show," it's essentially a sort of Rashomon deal in which various callers and witnesses discuss the apparently reunited Power Man and Iron Fist team's battle against Manslaughter Marsdale. It culminates with Luke and Danny joining Jimbo inside the studio to set the record straight, and Marsdale coming there for revenge.

Flaviano's style is distinct from that of Greene's, but it has a similar flavor, and he sticks with the Cage-as-a-giant visual motif that leads to so many great visual gags, as in a panel here where one witness claims that Cage has the power of flight.

Also, in this issue Danny builds "a modified version of the Fantastic Four's Fantasticar" using instructions he found on the Internet. He intends to call it The Power-Fist Mobile, but Cage refuses to let him call anything "Power-Fist," so Danny settles for The Fist Mobile (The Fistasticar seems more natural to me, given its origins, but whatever).

Finally, I did want to mention Jessica Jones' role in this story, as I've heard some grumbling on the Internet that here she seems to be reduced to the role of nagging wife, like a character on a 1960s sitcom getting mad at her husband for going bowling with the guys instead of staying around the house with her and the family (Here's a pretty thorough piece on that, with lots of looks at Greene's great art). I don't want to say this reading isn't valid, and it was probably more striking if these comics were being read serially, where one might see just one scene with Jessica arguing with Cage about not wearing one of his nice shirts out since it was just going to get destroyed anyway every month or so. Especially since this series started coming out when Netflix's Jessica Jones was presenting a version of the character much closer to that from Brian Michael Bendis and Michal Gaydos' Alias series than to her post-Alias portrayal  (which was also mostly written by Bendis, but in the context of his variou Avengers comics).

Read now, though, and all in one sitting, her apperances didn't strike me as those of a wet blanket or nagging wife so much as the supporting character she serves as in this series. While she is usually angry and trashing Luke and/or Danny, that's Jessica's character in a nutshell, right? Angry and talking shit all the time? She's presented as the person Cage would rather be with than out getting into fights with his immature bachelor friend, and many of the jokes featuring her are among the stronger ones (Like why Luke has started saying "Fiddle faddle" now, and why she can swear as much as she wants, and how Luke can tell she likes Danny).

Her role is certainly smaller than that of Luke or Danny, but then, this is Power Man and Iron Fist, not Power Man and Iron Fist and Jewel, or Jessica Jones' Husband, Power Man and Power Man's Pal, Iron Fist, you know? Her relative lack of panel-time in the first five issues of a series starring her husband and his friend seems as natural as, say, Alfred seeming like all he does is serve Batman food and sass him. Jessica is here, like Alfred in Batman comics, a supporting character.

Perhaps the release of her own series, now entitled Jessica Jones for closer association with the TV show, will salve the irritation some fans of hers have felt at her small role here. I am curious to see how this book and Jessica Jones will read next to one another; I've only flipped through the first issue of Jessica Jones, but stylistically and tonally they are polar opposites and, of course, Gaydos' art is all dark and photo-referenced, so it seems to be set on an entirely different planet than Power Man and Iron Fist is.

Star Wars Vol. 3: Rebel Jail

This is the first of the collections of the Marvel's main Star Wars title that I didn't purchase for myself, more so because I had missed its release than because I was dissatisfied with volume two. I just noticed it on the shelves of the library one day, realized I missed it and supposed that meant I should maybe just start reading the trades from the library instead of buying them for my home bookshelves. Now that I have read it, I'm actually kind of glad I missed it at the comics shop. It's not very good, certainly not when compared to the previous two volumes and Vader Down.

Jason Aaron continues to write the series, and while his scripting is still relatively strong, the collection suffers a bit from two main problems. First is simply one of structure. The title comes from a four-issue arc that is the center of the trade, illustrated by pencil artist Leinil Yu and inker Gerry Alanguilan (whose somewhat bland take on the characters and world of Star Wars might make for a third main problem, actually). It's sandwiched between Star Wars Annual #1, by writer Kieron Gillen and artist Angel Unzueta, and another Younger Kenobi On Tattoine solo story written by Aaron and drawn by Mike Mayhew.

"Rebel Jail" features an antagonist leading a strike force of droids to a secret jail where the Rebellion keeps its worst prisoners, an antagonist who hides his face, says he sympathizes with Leia and wants her to win the war, but that he also wants to teach her that she needs to be completely ruthless, as he's seen the true evil of the Empire. His plan is to execute all of the prisoners in their cells, and to more or less force Leia to join him in doing so, or die.

Who is this mysterious character? Well, it's completely obvious in context. The annual, which immediately precedes "Rebel Jail," introduces us to rebel spy working deep undercover as an administrator on Coruscant. When he has to break cover to try to rescue some high-level prisoners and assassinate Emperor Palpatine, he learns just how evil Palpatine is ("I'm not even the same species of monster") and takes a blast of force lightning to the face. He survives, but just barely, and with a new appreciation of how Palpatine's complete lack of morals actually gives him a strategic advantage.

So when one turns the pages and sees this helmeted, masked character telling Leia he knows her, he felt betrayed by her, she needs to toughen up and so on, it's not difficult to imagine who it is. Aaron nevertheless presents it as some sort of suspenseful mystery to be drawn out.

The other problem? The early issues of the series were in part so successful because they focused on the core group of heroes from the first three films working together, as opposed to focusing on new, minor characters like so much of the expanded universe material has. Here the band is pretty thoroughly broken up.

Leia gets the majority of the focus, and here she is teamed with new character Sana and other new character Dr. Aphra, Darth Vader's new ally from the pages of Darth Vader (which I also gave up on buying, but that because I didn't like the art and found it unpleasant to read). When the prison gets attacked, Leia and Sana forge an uneasy alliance with Aphra (who turns out to have been Sana's former lover? Ha ha, take that Star Wars bros! This arc stars all ladies, two of of them "of color" and also lesbians!).

Luke and Han are off on their own side mission. Charged with buying supplies, Han loses all of the money gambling and so they are forced to try smuggling to earn back the money. Their scenes are all played strictly as comedy, making for a sharp and grating contrast to the more deadly serious business in the prison which, remember, is all about morality, war, crime and punishment and suchlike. Their plot line eventually intersects with that of Leia and the ladies, but not until the final issue, during which they are mostly unconscious.

The droids get even less panel-time; Aaron writes a funny bit in which C3-PO thinks he engages in fisticuffs, but its not particularly well-drawn. And as for Chewbacca, he's completely MIA; I am assuming this story is set during the events of his own (pretty damn good) miniseries, which I covered here.

So that thing that made the first volume so exciting? The heroes of the original Star Wars trilogy vs. the villain of the original Star Wars trilogy, a sort of high-quality, paper expansion from Episode IV in the manner of the original Marvel Star Wars comics, only with the level of care and respect that the material rates in 2016 vs. 1977? That's no longer here. The quality is, mostly (Yu's not as strong as John Cassady or Stuart Immonen, at least not with this material), and so this reads an awful lot like the sort of Star Wars comics that Dark Horse was producing right before they lost the license, specifically the later issues of the Brian Wood-written one.

As for the Kenobi story, it is as lovely looking as previous Mayhew/Star Wars comics...and about as dull, as really, there's only so much Aaron seems able to do with the "Kenobi just kinda hangs around on Tatooine for like 20 years" set-up, particularly in these only occasional, 20-ish page installments. It does look like he's setting something up for the next installment though, that will tie-in to the future/present a bit, but I was a little surprised by how uninteresting these Kenobi stories are, especially considering how awesome John Jackson Miller's prose novel Star Wars: Kenobi, which is set in this same basic time period, is. I wonder if Marvel should maybe just hire Miller for the Kenobi issues...?

Finally, it just now occurred to me as I was putting the cover into this post how bad a cover it is for this particular volume. As I said, Leia stars in the title story arc, which accounts for a good 80 or so of the 130 story pages in this collection, and yet it's those two goofballs from the comedy relief interludes that are on the cover. Probably on account of the fact that they are dudes.

Star Wars: Darth Vader Vol. 3–The Sho-Torun War

The third-ish collection of Kieron Gillen's Darth Vader series (depending on how you want to place Vader Down in the timeline) consists of Star Wars: Darth Vader: Annual #1 and issues #16-#19 of the Darth Vader ongoing. Structurally then, it is akin to the Star Wars collection just discussed, leading off with an annual (drawn by Leinil Yu and inker Gerry Alanguilan) that serves as the first chapter of a story arc in the monthly series, still being drawn by Salvador Larroca (not a fan, although, as stated in previous volumes, he does well enough here, given how many characters have frozen metal faces, and how much of each page is technologically-driven set-dressing).

Vader is on a "diplomatic" mission to the titular planet, an important mining planet with an elaborate court culture that is toying with rebelling against the Empire. That makes it the sort of diplomatic mission that is perfectly-suited to an emotionless invincible robot space wizard like Vader. He basically kills a whole bunch of people (with some help from his droids; Triple-Zero's completely un-subtle attempts to encourage the court to drink the poison he's slipped into their drinks is particularly charming), and installs his own preferred puppet, giving her a damn cold reminder of what happens when planets piss off The Empire. And I mean that literally; he presents her with a gift that she could probably use as a paper weight or a conversation piece, but also performs the function of letting her and anyone who sees it know The Empire is totally cool with killing on a planetary scale.

Yu does a pretty great job on the art in this issue, and is particularly effective of portraying Vader as the kind of cool, never riled customer who just walks calmly through all kinds of terrible dangers, occasionally parrying a blaster bolt with his light saber or casually waving his arm to call upon The Force to fuck some shit up for him.

"The Shu-Torun War" begins in earnest after that, as Vader must return to the planet with a bunch of Stormtroopers and AT-ATs to aid his puppet leader in putting down a rebellion by the many mining barons who aren't down with this new world order. It's a pretty good Darth Vader story, playing him off of various other characters from The Emperor, to some of his surviving rivals that Palpatine set up for him in the first volume (his presentation of one of them to The Emperor is pretty cool), to a sassier-than-usual Triple-Zero, to his ally on Shu-Torun.

Gillen and Larocca also devise a pretty great set-piece in the war, involving giant, tower-sized drill-ships that fly through solid ground like rocket-ships. It's the sort of inventive scene that punctuated the first six films, but was missing from the seventh.

Friday, April 29, 2016

These are some graphic novels I read recently:

All-New Captain America Vol. 1: Hydra Ascendant (Marvel Entertainment)

Not to be confused with All-New Captain America: Fear Him, which collects a four-issue miniseries by that name, this collects all six issues of the "ongoing" All-New Captain America series, which was abruptly canceled (like the rest of Marvel's line) last spring as part of the publisher's Secret Wars. So it ended up just being a mini-series, really. This was somewhat unfortunate, as it ended with a really rather dramatic revelation, which it seemed would be the focus of writer Rick Remender's second story arc on the book. Except there was no second story arc, as there were no more issues of All-New Captain America. The character did reappear in his own book after the conclusion of Secret Wars, but that book was entitled Captain America: Sam Wilson, and wasn't written by Rick Remender, but instead by Nick Spencer.

Marvel's always-frustrating publishing gymnastics aside, how is this book? It's pretty good. Stuart Immonen handles the artwork, so of course it's pretty good. Immonen is an interesting artist these days, because he has always been pretty good, but his work today is so much cleaner, crisper and kinetic than it was at the start of his now fairly lengthy career. I'd say he's currently at the top of his game, but then, I would have said that five years ago too, and his art only gets stronger and stronger.

As for the story, it seems to pick up where Remender left off in a previous Captain America title, the 25-issue 2013-2014 Captain America which introduced Steve Rogers' son, the new Nomad and apparently ended with Rogers becoming a very old man (with great abs, at least as Old Man Rogers was drawn in some of the Avengers books of the era) and passing his shield and codename on to his long-time ally Sam Wilson, The Falcon.

I say "seems" because this is very much in media res, and those all seem to be things it's assumed a reader will know (and I did know most of it, simply from what I had absorbed from other Marvel books; the new Nomad was a complete surprise to me, though).

I like Wilson as Captain America. His hybridized costume is pretty great, and probably the best of the many costumes he's worn over the years (I think the wings being completely withdrawn when he's not flying helps a lot). With some artists, the combination of the wings and the shield can look pretty awkward, but Immonen makes them work perfectly together, particularly in the action sequence of the opening issue.

The plot seems at least semi-inspired by Captain America: The Winter Soldier, as it involves a very wide-reaching Hydra plot involving sleeper agents, one on each superhero team, according to one agent. The high command is made up of all of Captain America's rogues gallery, or at least the current incarnations of them, including Batroc The Leaper, Baron Zemo, Red Skull, Crossbones, Taskmaster and Baron Blood, who is ideally suited to fighting the new, winged Cap.

The bad guys' plan is to release bombs at certain cities all over the world that will sterilize everyone who isn't Hydra, reducing the world's population to a more sustainable size (Ra's al Ghul style), and it's up to the All-New Cap, the All-New Nomad, Redwing and some ad hoc allies--particularly Misty Knight, Agent of SHIELD--to shut down the bombs and save the world. Spoiler alert: They do.

The super-villain team-up makes this a nice introduction to the world of Captain America, and I'm not sure to what extent Remender and Immonen are responsible for some of their current looks and portrayals, but while some look just like they did the last time I saw them, others have cool, new looks (like Batroc) and personalities (Batroc, again, who is presented as anti-American in an elitist, dismissive way, rather than as a comic book Nazi kind of way).

There's a panel in which Knight flips mercenary Taskmaster by simply promising to pay him more than Hydra is that seemed like more of a swipe than a borrow of a similar scene in the Grant Morrison-written "Rock of Ages" JLA story (where Batman pays mercenary Mirror Master than Lex Luthor promised to, fitting in with Morrison's Batman-lead League vs. Luthor-lead Injustice Gang as corporate warfare element of that epic clash). It's possible someone did it before Morrison too, of course, but if so I didn't read that story.

The best part of the entire book, however, may be when vampire villain Baron Blood "kills" Redwing, and, a few pages later, Redwing is alive again, and Cap says something to the effect of "But what's with those red eyes? Well, I guess we'll deal with that later!" Yes, that's kind of weird that Redwing was bitten by a vampire, died and then was up and moving around, but with glowing red eyes--what could that mean?

Hopefully Spencer picks up on the Vampire Redwing plotline in his Captain America: Sam Wilson book. While the cliffhanger at the end of the volume, and the idea that each Marvel super-team has a Hydra infiltrator on it, are fairly compelling plots, what I really want to know more about is how Sam will cope with having his animal sidekick transformed into a vampire...

ApocalyptiGirl: An Aria for the End Times (Dark Horse Books)

Andrew MacLean's original graphic novel about Aria and her sharp-faced white cat Jelly Beans as they navigate a mysterious, post-apocalyptic world on a somewhat mysterious mission. That mystery will eventually come into focus and be clarified, but a large part of what makes MacLean's story so satisfying is the gradual, casual pace at which it unfolds. His remarkably upbeat protagonist seems to just go about her business cheerfully, occasionally narrating and occasionally getting involved with a spectacular action scene, and her setting is one that is at once fresh and fantastic, while still feeling lived-in and well-worn.

On foot or on motorcycle, she travels from her  home in an abandoned subway train to the plant-encrusted mech leaning against an ancient gas station, searching for a signal, searching for apples and sometimes having to pull a sword on members of the two warring tribes in the area, both of whom speak only in intelligible alien languages, when they speak at all.

The book reminded me a bit of the work of Matt Howarth, a bit of the work of Brandon Graham, and a bit of the work of James Stokoe–three of my all-around favorite cartoonists, all of whom have produced highly imaginative and oragnic-feeling sci-fi and fantasy work–but his art doesn't really look like that of any of those three.

Many of the elements of this comic will seem extremely familiar, but it never feels derivative of anything in particular. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'd highly recommend it.

G.I. Joe Vs. The Transformers Vol. 3 (IDW Productions) The current license-holder of both G.I. Joe and the Transformers, IDW, has repackaged all of the previous crossovers into a series of three trade paperbacks, starting with the original 1986 Marvel crossover and concluding with Devil's Due Publishing's 2007 The Black Horizon story, one of the two in this volume.

These two comics arcs are, to put it bluntly and gracelessly, garbage. If one were to make a diagram of the quality of all of the crossovers contained in these three volumes, it would look like a hill; the Marvel ones weren't very good, the first Devil's Due of the early 00s which featured Transformers disguised as various Cobra vehicles the best, and these two just sort of sputtered out with unambitious stories and awful artwork.

Both are by writer Tim Seeley, and the script end of things is markedly better than the art end, which gets increasingly amateurish to the point that it's kind of surprising that some of these pages even saw print as is.

The first story, originally published by Devil's Due in 2006 as G.I. Joe vs. The Transformers Vol. III: The Art of War, introduces Serpentor into the peculiar mixed continuity of the series of miniseries, in which a handful of Joes have large robot-fighting mech suits of armor derived from Cybertronian technology.

This Serpentor is created by scientists in the U.S. government at the Area 52 facility, a few floors beneath the G.I. Joe/Autobot collaborations. He's a powerful android programmed with the tactics and leadership abilities of history's greatest strategists...including Megatron, whose giant severed head is also in the facility. They wanted to use him as U.S. super-soldier, but you could guess how well that worked for them.

After Cobra attacks, the arisen Serpentor heads to Cybertron where General Hawk and a handful of Joes (Snake-Eyes, Scarlet, Road Block) go to lend a tiny, tiny fleshy hand. Once there Serpentor, Son of Megatron rallies the various warring Decepticon factions and leads them against The Autobots, along the way discovering that he lacks a soul/spark like all the human and Transformer characters, and seeks to remedy it by acquiring The Matrix of Leadership from Optimus Prime.

Interestingly, it ends up in the hands of Hawk, who becomes one with it...sorta (It would have been funny to seem him try to shove the giant Matrix into his tiny little body, but that never happens).

Seeley and the too-many artists–pencillers Joe Ng, James Raiz and Alex Milne, inkers Rob Ross, Alan Tam and "M3th"–do a pretty poor job in terms of getting characters in (Cobra Commander, The Baronnes, Zarana and Zartan are the only Cobra chracters with speaking lines; in addition to those mentioned above, the only Joes with lines are Mainframe, Firewall, Lady Jaye and Flint). There are relatively few Autobots and Decepticons, too. It's a very small crossover, considering the massive casts Seeley had to pull from (the casts are similar to the small-sized ones live-action movies, which never seem capable of juggling even a half-dozen characters from each faction).

The secondary characters are mostly un-introduced. Like, I know who the Predacons are because I played with them as a little kid, but there were a few characters that never made it into the G1 cartoons that I didn't recognize at all. Presumably, who they are isn't all that important, but given the most recent franshice smash-up that IDW has been publishing–Tom Scioli and John Barber's superior Transformers Vs. G.I. Joe, both the small casts and complete lack of introductions seem even worse. Scioli has pages, hell, even panels with more characters than all of those that appear in all six of these issues, and the "filecard" intros, complete with two-to-six word intros, at least suggest a characterization. Here, many of the characters might as well be named Deception #2, G.I. Joe #7, and so on.

The settings are similarly ill-defined, with Cybertron not looking any different or more alien than what little we see of Earth (the insides of a couple of high-tech headquarters).

With Black Horizon, originally published as two over-sized issues, Seeley has a more interesting semi-high concept, pairing the villains of both 1986's The Transformers: The Movie (still the best Transformers film) and 1987's G.I. Joe: The Movie (ditto), Unicron and Cobra-La, in an alliance of sort. The metal-adverse Cobra-La, whose technology is all organic and bug-like, once held the Galactus-like planet-sized Transformer Unicron at bay, promising to summon him in a few millennia to cleanse the Earth of humanity.

That time has come in Black Horizon. The Matrix-eyed Hawk no leads a clandestine alliance of Autobots and former Joes (Firewall, Cosmos, Prowl and a few more Autobots I didn't recognize) in trying to rid the world of Cybertronian technology, like that which his former government used to build Serpentor. They stumble upon Cobra-La's plan, and with the help of Flint and Optimus try to advert the apocalypse.

In one of the neater twists in Seeley's story, he includes the original G.I. Joe characters, the Barbie-sized ones, with Joe Colton, the character G.I. Joe is named for, having been taken prisoner by Cobra-La decades ago. He too is integral in saving the day. (I'm fairly certain they even snuck some Battle Beasts in there, but I can't be sure, since Andrew Wildman's artwork was so poor; it was hard to be sure of much of anything, really.)

Seeley also adds some Yeti (?) into the Cobra-La society, which, um, kind of clashes with their overall arthropod aesthetic, and gives them a Pretender Transformer or six to play with. These are among the weirder Transformers, ones that even as a little kid I thought were super-dumb. The toys were regular Transformers encased in plastic, two-piece shells of huge, humanoid monsters. That didn't seem to fit the whole "robots in disguise" formulation of the toy line. Like, if you were a giant robot from space, disguising yourself as a giant undead samurai isn't exactly as good a camouflage as, say, being able to turn into a helicopter or truck. In fact, I'm fairly certain a giant undead samurai is more conspicuous and alarming than a simple giant robot.

Like the previous story, this one is very small in its cast–which is especially unfortunate that one would think every single Joe would be rallied to fight off a astronomically large robot intent on eating the planet Earth–and is even worse in its drawing. The settings should be even more fantastic, but there are no real establishing shots, and we see little of the fascinatingly weird culture of Cobra-La, which here consists of little more than three name characters (Golobulus, Pythona and Nemesis Enforcer), some poorly-drawn, off-model Cobra-La soldiers and random humanoids.

Last week, I thought Scioli and Barber's Transformers vs. G.I. Joe comic was one of the best genre comics I had ever read, and certainly the based based-on-a-licensed property comic I'ever ever read. After reading how poorly produced previous crossovers between those two particular properties, I like it even more.

Star Wars Adventures: Chewbacca and the Slavers of the Shadowlands (Dark Horse Books)

While contemplating Marvel's recent Chewbacca miniseries, I became curious about the inherent difficulties in a solo story starring a character who communicates only in funny howls and growls, and how other comics writers might have addressed the Wookie language barrier in previous Chewbacca comics.

I didn't find many in existence, perhaps because of that very issue, but this Chris Cerasi-written, Jennifer L. Meyer-drawn original graphic novel was one. Cerasi's approach? To simply translate Wookie-ese into English/"Basic", so that Chewie and the other Wookies in this story simply talk to one another in the same manner that, say, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo do in other comics.

While it's kind of disconcerting to hear Chewie say, for example, "What is it, Ralrra? I'm kind of busy here," instead of a more typical "HHHRRRHHH," what really makes the dialogue in this comic weird is that the story is a story-within-the-story, told by Chewbacca himself.

So in the framing sequence, Han, Leia and Chewie have just jumped to light speed and Chewie is scolding Han for being careless ("GRAAAARRRRHH!"), and when Leia, who can't understand a fucking thing the Wookie says, asks Han why he's so upset, Han explains that his hirsute friend once had a run-in with some slavers that cost him.

Leia puts a hand on Chewie's shoulder and says, "Tell me, Chewbacca. Please?"

This is two panels after Leia asked Han what Chewie was saying. The Wookie stares off into space, and an off-panel dialogue bubble belonging to Han starts the story. And then we cut to Wookie world, "185 years before The Battle of Yavin" (Wookie's live long, BTW).

I suppose that we're meant to ignore Leia's direct plea to Chewbacca to tell her, and assume Han tells the story. But I like to imagine Chewbacca sitting there and HHHHRRRR-ing to Leia for a half hour, while she does her best to look engaged and concerned, despite having know idea what he's yowling.

In that story, Chewbacca was a reckless, rebellious teen Wookie, and seems to be prickly about the fact that an older friend of his named Tarful just passed some warrior rite of passage. To prove himself, he goes off into "The Shadowlands," with Tarful, a female friend named Ralrra and two very young, Ewok-sized Wookies in tow.

There they encounter the titular slavers, a human woman, a big fuzzy alien I recognize from the cantina scene in A New Hope but can't name and a white humanoid weasel/rat. They fight, Chewie and Tarful eventually win through a combination of home turf advantage and timely intervention by the grown-up Wookies but one of the little ones dies.

It's a pretty simple story, with some pretty heavy subject matter, given its apparently all-ages address (You can tell by the word "Adventures" in the title; why does "Adventures" mean "targeted towards kids"...? I'll never know, but it holds true throughout comics from at least the last 25 years).

Meyer's art is pretty unusual for a Star Wars comic. Only five pages of it is set in "the present," and she does a fine job of filtering the characters through her own style, which has a slightly washed-out look that appears to be somewhere between air-brushed and watercolors. She doesn't mess around with trying to draw likenesses either; she's drawing Princess Leia and Han Solo, after all, not Carrie Fischer and Harrison Ford.

On Kashyyyk, things look less Star Wars still. The forest world is full of hazily, dreamily rendered foliage and mist, and the Wookies have big, expressive eyes and readable facial expressions that give them a cute, almost manga look, and seems far, far removed from the silver screen Chewbacca (all of the current Marvel Star Wars comics, no matter the artist, seems to feature art that strives to replicate the look of the films as much as possible, sometimes to their detriment).

I've definitely never read a Star Wars comic that looks like this one, which, in and of itself, kind of recommends it.

Star Wars: Vader Down (Marvel )

The first real crossover of the new, Marvel era of Star Wars-licensed comics, this collection includes a special one-shot by regular Star Wars writer Jason Aaron and artist Mike Deodato and a handful of issues of both Aaron's Star Wars ongoing (also drawn by Deodato) and a couple of issues of writer Kieron Gillen and artist Salvador Larocca's Darth Vader. The story is a lot of fun, although if one wanted to read it cynically, there's a whole lot of silly, "And then this guy shows up, and then this guy shows up, and then..." with some outright comical, cartoon-esque sequences. If one was already on board, however, then that stuff is a blast.

The basic story is pretty simple. Vader recently learned that the pilot who blew up the Death Star is named Luke Skywalker, and he is therefore scouring the galaxy to find his son. He's doing so on the sly, with the help of Doctor Aphra and her evil droid allies, Triple-Zero (a sadistic, evil opposite of C-3PO) and BT-1 (a ridiculously heavily-armed, square-headed version of R2-D2).

Vader finds Skywalker doing drills with a couple dozen rebel fighter pilots, and engages them in one of the many scenes demonstrating Vader's superhuman, superheroic levels of Force powers, but he's ultimately brought down by Luke straight-up ramming Vader's tie fighter (the first of several attempts by the Skywalker twins to take Vader out in suicide missions).

With Vader down and all alone on a mostly abandoned planet (along with a similarly downed Luke), Leia launches an all-out assault to take out Vader once and for all. Given that these comics all take place before the next two Star Wars movies, and we know exactly when and how Vader dies, there's not really much suspense as to how this all turns out, of course.

That lack of suspense doesn't make it any less interesting. The two main aspects of that interest are watching Vader tear apart whole Rebel legions (I've noted before that Comic Book Vader, in both the Dark Horse comics and now the Marvel comics, is depicted several hundred times stronger in the Force than he ever is in the original trilogy of films; if this Vader showed up on Hoth at the beginning of Empire, the series should have ended right then and there with the Empire triumphant), and Aaron and Gillen pairing the film's heroes with their comic book opposites here.

Han Solo vs. Dr. Aphra! C-3PO vs. Triple-Zero! R2-D2 vs. BT-1! Chewbacca vs. Black Krrsantan! And Leia's desire to avenge Alderann vs. her desire to not have her new friends all killed horribly!

Those last two character vs. character battles are probably the best bits, as the two little trashcan droids cuss each other out* before pulling their weapons, and R2 is severely out-gunned. As for Chewie vs. um, Blacky, our hero is on the ropes, still suffering the effects of a neurotoxin injected by Triple-Zero (who notes that the rebels have all seemed to develop a particular enmity against protocol droids for some reason). R2 administers an antidote, and things turn around instantly. It's practically a Popeye fight, with the syringe a sort of chemical space spinach.

The resolution is basically of the everyone returns to their respective corners sort that defined the original run of Marvel Star Wars comics (and all Star Wars comics starring the characters from the movies that are set between films), but there are developments in the Darth Vader book's plotline, as Vader faces against one of his major rivals (who looks like Admiral Ackbar's head on General Greivous' body).

I'm no fan of either Larocca or Deodato, the latter of whom has increasingly relied on photo reference and appropriation in his comics-making, and his images often feature an uncomfortably obvious use of dropped-in, repeated images when illustrating large numbers (dulling the impact of that first splash page, for example), and swipes of character poses and expressions straight from the films that are more than a little distracting (I found myself wondering which frame of which film a particular Han Solo face is from, for example, rather than concentrating on that particular scene of the comic).

Their styles are similar enough that there's no severe aesthetic whiplash in this collection when they hand the baton off to one another, although Deodato's Vader often looks more noticeably like a Marvel superhero than Larrocca's, and Deodato's Aphra's anatomy shifts unpredictably, depending on his photo reference, I guess.

Suicide Squad Vol. 3: Rogues (DC Comics)

With this latest 280-page collection of the John Ostrander-helmed Suicide Squad run, I realized one of the reasons that DC has had such a hard time with their recent revival attempts. A new Suicide Squad book was one of the 52 new books launched as part of The New 52. It was one of a handful of books that the market seemingly kept rejecting, but DC kept insisting on publishing anyway**, simply changing creative teams at a particularly high frequency and, at one point, cancelling it and relaunching it almost immediately (DC did the same with Teen Titans and Deathstroke).

Now, there are a couple of reasons why the book has had such a hard time taking off, including rejection of fans by some of the New 52 redesigns--like skinny, sexy Amanda Waller, or mustache-less Deadshot--and the fact that it has thus far featured either bad writing, bad art or both (2011's Suicide Squad #1 was among the worst of the 52 #1s, consisting of almost 20-pages of the protagonists being tortured and, um, that's it).

But while reading Rogues it hit me that a conceptual problem was the fact that the New 52 version of the DC Universe wasn't old enough to support the Squad. While the original one launched shortly after Crisis On Infinite Earth's hard reboot of DC history, COIE didn't hit the re-set button on everything all at once, and it affected some characters more than others; the DCU still had a history, and most of its characters were understood to have been around for a while (about ten years or so).

So when Amanda Waller's Task Force X starts recruiting the likes of Captain Boomerang, Deadshot Bronze Tiger, Nightshade and The Enchantress, these are all characters that were at least semi-familiar to readers as Flash and Batman villains, as supporting characters from older, canceled titles and curios of DC continuity. Black Orchid, Shade, The Changing Man, Vixen, The Penguin, Dr. Light--whether their roles were big or small, they were characters with history in the DC Universe and a presence in the back issue bins. If you wanted to learn more about them, you could read their old comics, because there were old comics featuring these versions of the characters.

That's not been the case with the New 52's Suicide Squads, one of which appears in a book called New Suicide Squad. Yes, the characters all have familiar names, but unfamiliar histories, especially at the outset. The first issue of 2011's Suicide Squad was the very first introduction to the new versions of Deadshot, Harley Quinn, King Shark and company, and while they shared the universe with all the other characters, that universe was brand-new across the board.

One of the most interesting aspects of Ostrander's Squad book, that it featured ever-changing, Dirty Dozen-like congregations of characters that really had no business sharing the same story space, wasn't something that could be replicated in the New 52 DCU. It can now of course; when New Suicide Squad added the likes of Reverse Flash, Black Manta and The Joker's Daughter, these were, at least, characters with story arcs in other books, and a modicum of history, and writers were able to flesh out backstories for the more regular characters like Deadshot and Harley, but even then, their universe was younger and smaller than that of the original, Ostrander-written Squad.

I don't think that element was the chief virtue of the original series, but it was certainly one of them, and one that can't be easily manufactured (So it should be interesting to see the upcoming film, which features a cast of characters who have never appeared in any films before, excepting a Joker; it's going to come down to characterization, concept and craftsmanship, and can't coast on fights with The Doom Patrol or Justice League or trips to settings like Shade's weird-ass homeworld or Apokolips).

This particular volume collects #17-25, and 1988's Suicide Squad Annual #1. Ostrander continues to do the bulk of the writing, sometimes in conjunction with Kim Yale, and Luke McDonnell handles the lion's share of the pencil art.

There's a lot going on in these stories in terms of plot, just like there's always a lot going on in the old Suicide Squad, including the team's cover being blown and being forced to go public, an "Invasion" tie-in, Rick Flag going rogue after committing what turned out to be an exceptionally unnecessary murder and, perhaps of the greatest historical importance, the very first appearances of Oracle–here as just a voice coming out of a computer and offering her/its help to the Squad.

McDonnell and company's artwork is serviceable but unspectacular, and can read strangely today. We're so used to seeing highly-stylized art, often with style taking the driver's seat and shoving story-telling fundamentals into the backseat, that it can bee downright unusual to see such perfectly readable, but also un-showy, artwork. Especially applied to DC characters.

I am increasingly struck by the fact that no matter how dark the subject matter gets in this series, the characters almost never get any kind of costume redesigns–the exception that proves the rule here is Nighshade, who had a transformative experience in the comics collected in volume 2. There's just some kind of special energy that emanates from the friction caused by the garish, colorful supervillain costumes grinding against the deadpan serious stories of international intrigue and violent geo-politics.



*"My, what language," Triple-Zero says of their BLEEP PBEEP WUURUU BIDDA DEEBA smack-talk. "He certainly s a foul-mouthed little astromech. I wonder if he's capable of backing up such talk?"

**Which might have had something to do with a big-budget, Will Smith-starring Suicide Squad movie having been in development, and set for release this summer.