I forgot Batman '66 Meets Wonder Woman '77 #5 when I was at the comic shop this past Wednesday, and had to return to pick a copy of it up this weekend. That is why it is not mentioned in the previous installment of the Comic Shop Comics feature. This issue begins the final third of the decades-spanning series, and thus jumps to the third temporal setting, the year 1977 (when the second and third seasons of the Wonder Woman TV show were set). The first two issues were set in the 1940s (when the first season of the Wonder Woman TV show was set, and Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul were just little kids) and the next two were set in 1966 (when the Batman TV show was set).
Thus, with this issue we get to see the future of the Batman '66 timeline. Bruce Wayne has grayed at the temples, Mister Fantastic/Nick Fury style, and retired from crimefighting during an off-panel incident in which he killed The Joker (who attacked Wayne Manor, indirectly killing Alfred in the process). Barbara Gordon has turned from library science to police work, and has replaced her late father as the city's police commissioner (Chief O'Hara's daughter also inherited his title as Police Chief, as well as his brogue). And Dick Grayson has adopted the name Nightwing, and become Gotham City's primary costumed crimefighter (Amazing how '70s ready his Nightwing costume was; I'm pretty sure all that cover artist Mike Allred and interior pencil artist David Hahn did to make his original costume more '70s-ish is add a zipper and some bellbottoms).
This series is awesome and everyone should read it. If you missed this last issue, you can always go back to the shop and buy a copy. I did! And if you missed the first five issues, well, at this point I'd just wait for the trade, if I were you.
While I was there, I purchased Suicide Squad Vol. 6: The Phoenix Gambit and got a few pages into it before I realized that I had actually never purchased and read Suicide Squad Vol. 5: Apokolips Now. While I was disappointed that I would have to wait a while to read this one, I was also excited that DC is now putting out collections of the original, John Ostrander-written volume of Suicide Squad at a quick enough pace that I have now officially lost track of it. With the sixth volume, they've collected the first 49 issues of the 66-issue run. Another collection or two and will finally–finally!–all be available in collected, trade paperback form! Huzzah!
Showing posts with label jeff parker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jeff parker. Show all posts
Sunday, May 28, 2017
Saturday, April 01, 2017
On DC/Hanna-Barbera's team-ups
Adam Strange/Future Quest#1 by writers Marc Andreyko and Jeff Parker, artist Steve Lieber and colorist Veronica Gandini
Here we have a relatively minor DC Comics character without his own title teaming up with one of the Hanna-Barbereboot titles (albeit one that's being canceled). It should go without saying that jet-pack-wearing, ray gun-shooting spaceman adventurer character Adam Strange is right at home with the 1960s-borne adventure cartoon characters that fill the pages of Jeff Parker and company's title starring various Hanna-Barbera adventure/superhero heroes. Created in 1958, he was spawned from the same cultural forces and pop cultural interests that inspired so many of those cartoon characters, and, if anything, one wonders if he isn't maybe too perfect for an appearance in the Future Quest milieu. There's no friction here in the way that there is, with, say, Suicide Squad/The Banana Splits or the Batman/Top Cat back-up feature that follows (which we'll get to later).
Additionally, because of the premise of Future Quest, in which mysterious portals to other times and places open on Earth, depositing a wide variety of super-characters ranging from Mightor to Space Ghost onto Team Quest and Birdman's Earth, Future Quest has a built-in excuse for any DC Comics character, no matter who or from where, to appear: Jonah Hex, Enemy Ace, The Haunted Tank, The Justice Society of America, Infinity Inc, Metamorpho, Aztek, The Legion of Superheroes, whoever.
So Andreyko and Parker have Adam Strange--the in-continuity, New 52 iteration, based on flashbacks that appear to reference his current origins and events from the recent Death of Hawkman miniseries--pop out of a portal in The Lost Valley, where Dino Boy and some agents of F.E.A.R. have been trapped by the events of Future Quest. Dr. Quest, Race Bannon, Jonny, Hadji and Bandit race there to see what came through, as do the F.E.A.R. folks, who are trying to escape the dangerous, screwed-up valley. The amnesiac Strange got bumped there in mid-zeta beam, and it takes him a while to get his bearings.
Meanwhile, there are lots of cool prehistoric creatures to run from, fight with and, in one case, befriend via snake-charming and rather generous feeding. While it's mainly a Strange/Quest crossover, Birdman appears for a few panels and Mightor and The Herculoids make cameos.
If you like Future Quest, you should like this kinda sorta epilogue to the series, and if you come for the Adam Strange, well, it's a nice introduction to some of the more likable aspects of Future Quest, the first chunk of which is currently available in trade paperback.
The back-up is an eight-page Top Cat comic which is problematically written by DC Comics Publisher Dan DiDio. Did he assign it to himself? Did someone assign it to their own boss, or their boss' boss? It's always bizarre to see DiDio get a writing credit, in a way that seeing his co-publisher Jim Lee's art appearing in a DC comic isn't, because while Lee is a proven popular commodity whose work tends to dramatically affect sales, DiDio is pretty much the opposite. The majority of his work has appeared in some sort of anthology context, and the one book he did write by himself died almost immediately upon his taking it over (his work with co-writers isn't much better).
DiDio does give himself a hell of an asset in writing Batman into the story. This is the only of the back-ups that includes a DCU co-star, but, again, are you going to say no to your boss's boss? So DiDio writes a five-page framing sequence featuring Batman and Catwoman--Batman chases Catwoman into an alley, where he finds Top Cat instead, covering for Catwoman. Batman questions the four-foot tall, anthropomorphic cat, during which time T.C. reveals his secret origin.
DiDio has basically reimagined him as a career criminal who ratted out the rest of his gang, hailing from a world very different from that of the setting of the original cartoons. It is a world of anthropomorphic cats, where Top Cat would be the equivalent of a human, rather than a regular (if talking and clothes-wearing) cat (Rather than human police officer Dibble busting T.C.'s chops, there's a panel where cat police officers bust his gang). He and Benny have journeyed to the DCU via a mad science device, which also makes this unique among the various Hanna-Barbereboot properties in that it is actually set in the DC Universe (Remember, in the lead story, Strange journeys outside the DCU to land in the world of Future Quest). These little changes basically cast T.C. as Howard The Duck.
Phil Winslade draws the feature, and he hasn't really redesigned the character in any appreciable way, other than making him much larger, and somewhat creepier, given that he is rendered so much more realistically than the flat, bright version of your parents (or grandparents) youth. Basically, Top Cat looks like a furry.
It ends, as all of the back-ups do, with the words "To Be Continued in...", which suggests a new round of Hanna-Barbereboot books on the horizon, none of which seem as promising as the ones we've already seen (And all of which, save Scooby Apocalypse, have either been canceled or are in the process of being canceled).
Booster Gold/The Flintstones #1 by writer Mark Russell, artists Rick Leonardi and Scott Hanna and colorist Steve Buccellato
This is the other special in which a DC character without a book of his own crashes into the milieu of one of the extant Hanna-Barbereboot books. Though written by regular Flintstones writer Mark Russell, it is really more of a Booster Gold story. Despite all of the panel time that The Flintstones characters enjoy, it is Booster who is our protagonists, and Fred, Barney and Wilma could easily have been played by generic characters from the distant past. Where the book really shares common ground with the modern, post-modern take on the 20th century's modern Stone Age family is in the tone. Like Russel's Flintsones book, this is social satire in a cartoon package, often quite dark, even shockingly so (Booster plays Weekend At Bernie's with a bisected corpse near the climax) and occasionally preachy.
Booster Gold, in the far-flung future of 2472, is on his way to a date in Gotham City when aliens attack. In order to save the day, Booster Gold researches the alien race on Chronopedia and uses his time machine to jump back to Bedrock 20,000 BC, the time and place of their kind's first appearance on Earth. His sudden arrival out of thin air kills the interplanetary prophet who arrived to share his advanced wisdom with the residents of Bedrock, cutting the poor sap in half...and starting the chain of events that would eventually lead to the invasion 22,500 years or so later (time travel!).
With the help of time travel and some local cave-people, he attempts to save the day, and kinda sorta does, in the process radically altering his present/our future in a way that he's pretty much the only one who can appreciate.
Russell's take on Booster Gold is pretty fun. The character seems like himself, despite appearing inn a narrative that is obviously more comedic in focus than even the Bwa-ha-ha-est of his superhero adventures, and he Russell does with time travel what he's been doing with history and American society in the pages of The Flinstones (I particularly enjoyed Booster's reaching out to other time travelers for help, all of whom seem to have chosen to inadvertently traveled to deadly, disastrous points in history).
Perhaps the scariest thing about this entire story, however? In the year 2472, people will still be dating via Tinder! I guess I should be gladdened by the knowledge that there is no way in hell I'll survive over 450 more years...
This back-up is the The Jetsons, courtesy the Harley Quinn writing team of Jimmy Palmiotti and Amanda Conner, with artist Pier Brito. I kind of hated it. It is essentially just an origin story for The Jetsons' robot maid Rosie, which is actually kind of disturbing (Spoiler alert: She is now a robot with the mind of George's mother, and thus Judy and Elroy's grandmother, implanted into it/her). She is the most drastically redesigned member of the cast--she's the creepy alien-looking thing on the cover--having lost her boxy appearance and stereotypical maid drag for a shapelier figure and lighter-colored metal placed in such a way to suggest an apron and such.
The human Jetsons all look more-or-less like realistic versions of themselves, as if Brito just cast actors to play them in a live-action adaptation. Jane wears stretch pants under her dress, and Elroy looks older and dresses less like a little kid, but that's about it.
One thing I found strange about DC's various Hanna-Barbereboot books in general--these as well as the four original ongoings--was that in making "adult" versions of these cartoons (Future Quest being the only one that's really all-ages), none of the artists involved redesigned anyone as particularly sexy. In fact, though generally drawn in more realistic faction, the 21st century reboot versions are generally less sexy, with the ladies all more demurely, conservatively dressed than their 1960s cartoon counterparts. That is especially evident here, as not only were Jane and Judy drawn as particularly attractive (um, for their milieu), they were also relatively scantily-clad for the era of television from which they were born (Same goes for Betty and Wilma, I guess, although I never found Wilma the least bit attractive, even when I was a wee child and cartoon women were the only women I really saw that I wasn't related to; her pupil-less dead eyes and the shape of her head always turned me off, whereas Betty was a stone age fox).
But anyway, rather than a futurisic version of The Flintstones, this is an end-of-life story set in the far-flung future in which we learn George uses his dead mom's brain as a maid. It is to be continued in The Jetsons, we are told.
Green Lantern/Space Ghost #1 by writers James Tynion IV and Christopher Sebela, and artist/colorist Ariel Olivetti
As with Adam Strange/Future Quest, both sides of this particular team-up fit together so naturally it's almost not even remarkable to see them sharing a book, and there's certainly none of the inherent tension of the previous book, or the one we'll discuss next. Green Lantern is a space cop who fights various forms of evil in space. Space Ghost is a space cop who fights various forms of evil in space. Neither of them has anything approaching a personality, so even having them play off one another doesn't really generate much in the way of sparks. Tynion and Sebela's story isn't bad, it's just not terrible interesting.
Both heroes receive a distress signal of sorts from the most distant edges of their universes, and they each rush to investigate. Foes of each are encountered and fought--"Agent Orange" Larfleeze and Zorak/s--and the pair end up on a rather Earth-like planet, where they proceed to duke it out, because why wouldn't they?
This planet is ruled by bad folks who have convinced the populace that there is no life at all beyond their planet, and thus when the spacemen arrive, they need to be eradicated with laser guns and mechs. So more fighting. At one point the heroes trade weapons, and I can't tell you how disappointed I was that when Space Ghost put on the Green Lantern ring he didn't receive a Green Lantern-ized costume like heroes usually do when they try GL's ring on for size. Maybe next time...?*
Ariel Olivetti's art isn't to my taste. His designs are fine, but he uses a lot of computer gimickry, dropping in photo-realistic backgrounds and robots and such that contributes to an all-around look of sterile fakery. A lot of people obviously dig this kind of art, but I like comic book art that looks drawn with pencil and ink on paper. That said, as the artist on the 2005 Space Ghost miniseries with writer Joe Kelley, Olivetti was probably a pretty ideal choice for the comic, if none of the Future Quest guys were available.
The back-up is a Ruff 'n' Reddy feature by Howard Chaykin. The cat and dog characters are obscure enough that I have actually never, ever seen a cartoon featuring them (or, if I did, it was long enough ago that I have no memory of it). I can't really speak then to what degree Chaykin reinvents them, but it's worth pointing out that it reads like a weird Howard Chaykin funny animal comic, in which the pair are professional, old time-y comedians who are down on their luck. The strongest gag, I thought, was the series of other comedians they work with, all of whom have names that lend themselves to teaming with them.
Suicide Squad/Banana Splits #1 by writer Tony Bedard, artists Ben Caldwell and Mark Morales and colorist Jeremy Lawson
This was probably the most out-there of the four books, what with there being the largest gulf in tone between the source material, and the fact that The Banana Splits was just a really, really weird show (and not even a cartoon, but an off-putting live-action one featuring people in frightening animal costumes...Liz Phair and Material issue's cover song of their theme song from the 1995 MCA anthology album Saturday Morning was pretty awesome, though!).
Writer Tony Bedard imagines the Banana Splits as a down-on-their-luck band of hybrid animal people (for whose existence no explanation is ever given) who are apparently native to the DC Universe. On their way to a gig, a misunderstanding leads to them getting busted by the cops, and they are shipped off to Belle Reve (perhaps because they are animal people? That doesn't get explained either). They don't exactly fit in there, and when Amanda Waller needs some extremely expendable Squaddies to reinforce Harley Quinn, Katana, Killer Croc and Deadshot on their rescue mission, the Splits suit-up and join the fray.
As their opponents are robots, the Splits aren't forced to kill any actual living things during the mayhem. It all leads up to a kind of forced gag, but that particular gag was perhaps the only reason a Banana Splits/Suicide Squad crossover would ever even have been a thing. Other than sheer weirdness, of course.
Caldwell's pencil art, inked by Mark Morales, is fantastic, and among the best art applied to the Suicide Squad in their 5,000 or so appearance since The New 52boot. Dude should really be drawing the regular series, or at least an arc or two of it, as the model for the current Suicide Squad series seems to be to put a different high-profile artist on each consecutive story arc.
His Harley Quinn is just right, capturing the basic look of the movie-inspired redesign with equal parts Animated Series puckishness and Suicide Squad craziness. He basically lands right in the middle of the two most pervasive versions of the character.
He gives Katana a redesign, with a more elaborate, samurai-inspired costume that is an improvement over most of her many costumes over the years, and his Deadshot is a more stripped-down and stylized version of the current costume. In fact, Caldwell's version may be the best of that particular (terrible) Deadshot costume.
The Banana Splits all look incredibly off, even wrong, though. Bingo (the monkey) is the only one who retains the strange person-in-a-furry suit look, given his over-sized head. The rest are simply animal men, and their sizes reflect which animal they are to some degree, rather than all being the same size. I don't know what the best choice for drawing The Banana Splits in a Suicide Squad comic is though, so I can't say Caldwell necessarily did it wrong, but making them realistic animal-men certainly looks and feels wrong to me. Like, even just being able to see their eyes, or Snork being an actual elephant-man instead of the weird, gray, shaggy, Cousin It-looking thing with a trunk and ears seemed un-Banana Split-like to me.
The back-up is a Snagglgepuss story, wait, I'm sorry, it's "The Snagglepuss Chronicles." It's by Mark Russell and Howard Porter and...it's a weird one. Snagglepuss is drawn as a more-or-less realistic felid of some kind, albeit a human-sized one with pink fur, creepy-looking "backwards" hind legs and a longer version of the yellow coat he sported during Laff-A-Lympics. Russell imagines him a quick-witted, controversial playwright of some sort, making his way through what appears to be the House Un-American Activities Committee hearings with a series of bon mots. Outside, he randomly meets Augie Doggie, who similarly looks weirdly realistic, and who says he wants to be a writer. Snagglepuss offers advice that does sound inspiring and, well, true, and he also flashes-back to a tragic event in his past (cameo by Peter Potamus).
I couldn't make heads or tails of this one, to be honest, and whatever joke Russell was trying to tell went over my head.
*After that weird--but surprisingly good!--2005 Space Ghost miniseries, I had spent some time thinking about Space Ghost joining the DC Universe, even if only on a temporary basis, and what that might be like. I assumed he would run into Green Lanterns. I thought it would be cool to see him as a POV character wandering around DC's Earth for a while too, maybe joining the Justice League for a while. I think the current Justice League, which has a pretty boring and incredibly static line-up these days, would really benefit from adding Space Ghost to it.
Here we have a relatively minor DC Comics character without his own title teaming up with one of the Hanna-Barbereboot titles (albeit one that's being canceled). It should go without saying that jet-pack-wearing, ray gun-shooting spaceman adventurer character Adam Strange is right at home with the 1960s-borne adventure cartoon characters that fill the pages of Jeff Parker and company's title starring various Hanna-Barbera adventure/superhero heroes. Created in 1958, he was spawned from the same cultural forces and pop cultural interests that inspired so many of those cartoon characters, and, if anything, one wonders if he isn't maybe too perfect for an appearance in the Future Quest milieu. There's no friction here in the way that there is, with, say, Suicide Squad/The Banana Splits or the Batman/Top Cat back-up feature that follows (which we'll get to later).
Additionally, because of the premise of Future Quest, in which mysterious portals to other times and places open on Earth, depositing a wide variety of super-characters ranging from Mightor to Space Ghost onto Team Quest and Birdman's Earth, Future Quest has a built-in excuse for any DC Comics character, no matter who or from where, to appear: Jonah Hex, Enemy Ace, The Haunted Tank, The Justice Society of America, Infinity Inc, Metamorpho, Aztek, The Legion of Superheroes, whoever.
So Andreyko and Parker have Adam Strange--the in-continuity, New 52 iteration, based on flashbacks that appear to reference his current origins and events from the recent Death of Hawkman miniseries--pop out of a portal in The Lost Valley, where Dino Boy and some agents of F.E.A.R. have been trapped by the events of Future Quest. Dr. Quest, Race Bannon, Jonny, Hadji and Bandit race there to see what came through, as do the F.E.A.R. folks, who are trying to escape the dangerous, screwed-up valley. The amnesiac Strange got bumped there in mid-zeta beam, and it takes him a while to get his bearings.
Meanwhile, there are lots of cool prehistoric creatures to run from, fight with and, in one case, befriend via snake-charming and rather generous feeding. While it's mainly a Strange/Quest crossover, Birdman appears for a few panels and Mightor and The Herculoids make cameos.
If you like Future Quest, you should like this kinda sorta epilogue to the series, and if you come for the Adam Strange, well, it's a nice introduction to some of the more likable aspects of Future Quest, the first chunk of which is currently available in trade paperback.
The back-up is an eight-page Top Cat comic which is problematically written by DC Comics Publisher Dan DiDio. Did he assign it to himself? Did someone assign it to their own boss, or their boss' boss? It's always bizarre to see DiDio get a writing credit, in a way that seeing his co-publisher Jim Lee's art appearing in a DC comic isn't, because while Lee is a proven popular commodity whose work tends to dramatically affect sales, DiDio is pretty much the opposite. The majority of his work has appeared in some sort of anthology context, and the one book he did write by himself died almost immediately upon his taking it over (his work with co-writers isn't much better).
DiDio does give himself a hell of an asset in writing Batman into the story. This is the only of the back-ups that includes a DCU co-star, but, again, are you going to say no to your boss's boss? So DiDio writes a five-page framing sequence featuring Batman and Catwoman--Batman chases Catwoman into an alley, where he finds Top Cat instead, covering for Catwoman. Batman questions the four-foot tall, anthropomorphic cat, during which time T.C. reveals his secret origin.
DiDio has basically reimagined him as a career criminal who ratted out the rest of his gang, hailing from a world very different from that of the setting of the original cartoons. It is a world of anthropomorphic cats, where Top Cat would be the equivalent of a human, rather than a regular (if talking and clothes-wearing) cat (Rather than human police officer Dibble busting T.C.'s chops, there's a panel where cat police officers bust his gang). He and Benny have journeyed to the DCU via a mad science device, which also makes this unique among the various Hanna-Barbereboot properties in that it is actually set in the DC Universe (Remember, in the lead story, Strange journeys outside the DCU to land in the world of Future Quest). These little changes basically cast T.C. as Howard The Duck.
Phil Winslade draws the feature, and he hasn't really redesigned the character in any appreciable way, other than making him much larger, and somewhat creepier, given that he is rendered so much more realistically than the flat, bright version of your parents (or grandparents) youth. Basically, Top Cat looks like a furry.
It ends, as all of the back-ups do, with the words "To Be Continued in...", which suggests a new round of Hanna-Barbereboot books on the horizon, none of which seem as promising as the ones we've already seen (And all of which, save Scooby Apocalypse, have either been canceled or are in the process of being canceled).
Booster Gold/The Flintstones #1 by writer Mark Russell, artists Rick Leonardi and Scott Hanna and colorist Steve Buccellato
This is the other special in which a DC character without a book of his own crashes into the milieu of one of the extant Hanna-Barbereboot books. Though written by regular Flintstones writer Mark Russell, it is really more of a Booster Gold story. Despite all of the panel time that The Flintstones characters enjoy, it is Booster who is our protagonists, and Fred, Barney and Wilma could easily have been played by generic characters from the distant past. Where the book really shares common ground with the modern, post-modern take on the 20th century's modern Stone Age family is in the tone. Like Russel's Flintsones book, this is social satire in a cartoon package, often quite dark, even shockingly so (Booster plays Weekend At Bernie's with a bisected corpse near the climax) and occasionally preachy.
Booster Gold, in the far-flung future of 2472, is on his way to a date in Gotham City when aliens attack. In order to save the day, Booster Gold researches the alien race on Chronopedia and uses his time machine to jump back to Bedrock 20,000 BC, the time and place of their kind's first appearance on Earth. His sudden arrival out of thin air kills the interplanetary prophet who arrived to share his advanced wisdom with the residents of Bedrock, cutting the poor sap in half...and starting the chain of events that would eventually lead to the invasion 22,500 years or so later (time travel!).
With the help of time travel and some local cave-people, he attempts to save the day, and kinda sorta does, in the process radically altering his present/our future in a way that he's pretty much the only one who can appreciate.
Russell's take on Booster Gold is pretty fun. The character seems like himself, despite appearing inn a narrative that is obviously more comedic in focus than even the Bwa-ha-ha-est of his superhero adventures, and he Russell does with time travel what he's been doing with history and American society in the pages of The Flinstones (I particularly enjoyed Booster's reaching out to other time travelers for help, all of whom seem to have chosen to inadvertently traveled to deadly, disastrous points in history).
Perhaps the scariest thing about this entire story, however? In the year 2472, people will still be dating via Tinder! I guess I should be gladdened by the knowledge that there is no way in hell I'll survive over 450 more years...
This back-up is the The Jetsons, courtesy the Harley Quinn writing team of Jimmy Palmiotti and Amanda Conner, with artist Pier Brito. I kind of hated it. It is essentially just an origin story for The Jetsons' robot maid Rosie, which is actually kind of disturbing (Spoiler alert: She is now a robot with the mind of George's mother, and thus Judy and Elroy's grandmother, implanted into it/her). She is the most drastically redesigned member of the cast--she's the creepy alien-looking thing on the cover--having lost her boxy appearance and stereotypical maid drag for a shapelier figure and lighter-colored metal placed in such a way to suggest an apron and such.
The human Jetsons all look more-or-less like realistic versions of themselves, as if Brito just cast actors to play them in a live-action adaptation. Jane wears stretch pants under her dress, and Elroy looks older and dresses less like a little kid, but that's about it.
One thing I found strange about DC's various Hanna-Barbereboot books in general--these as well as the four original ongoings--was that in making "adult" versions of these cartoons (Future Quest being the only one that's really all-ages), none of the artists involved redesigned anyone as particularly sexy. In fact, though generally drawn in more realistic faction, the 21st century reboot versions are generally less sexy, with the ladies all more demurely, conservatively dressed than their 1960s cartoon counterparts. That is especially evident here, as not only were Jane and Judy drawn as particularly attractive (um, for their milieu), they were also relatively scantily-clad for the era of television from which they were born (Same goes for Betty and Wilma, I guess, although I never found Wilma the least bit attractive, even when I was a wee child and cartoon women were the only women I really saw that I wasn't related to; her pupil-less dead eyes and the shape of her head always turned me off, whereas Betty was a stone age fox).
But anyway, rather than a futurisic version of The Flintstones, this is an end-of-life story set in the far-flung future in which we learn George uses his dead mom's brain as a maid. It is to be continued in The Jetsons, we are told.
Green Lantern/Space Ghost #1 by writers James Tynion IV and Christopher Sebela, and artist/colorist Ariel Olivetti
As with Adam Strange/Future Quest, both sides of this particular team-up fit together so naturally it's almost not even remarkable to see them sharing a book, and there's certainly none of the inherent tension of the previous book, or the one we'll discuss next. Green Lantern is a space cop who fights various forms of evil in space. Space Ghost is a space cop who fights various forms of evil in space. Neither of them has anything approaching a personality, so even having them play off one another doesn't really generate much in the way of sparks. Tynion and Sebela's story isn't bad, it's just not terrible interesting.
Both heroes receive a distress signal of sorts from the most distant edges of their universes, and they each rush to investigate. Foes of each are encountered and fought--"Agent Orange" Larfleeze and Zorak/s--and the pair end up on a rather Earth-like planet, where they proceed to duke it out, because why wouldn't they?
This planet is ruled by bad folks who have convinced the populace that there is no life at all beyond their planet, and thus when the spacemen arrive, they need to be eradicated with laser guns and mechs. So more fighting. At one point the heroes trade weapons, and I can't tell you how disappointed I was that when Space Ghost put on the Green Lantern ring he didn't receive a Green Lantern-ized costume like heroes usually do when they try GL's ring on for size. Maybe next time...?*
Ariel Olivetti's art isn't to my taste. His designs are fine, but he uses a lot of computer gimickry, dropping in photo-realistic backgrounds and robots and such that contributes to an all-around look of sterile fakery. A lot of people obviously dig this kind of art, but I like comic book art that looks drawn with pencil and ink on paper. That said, as the artist on the 2005 Space Ghost miniseries with writer Joe Kelley, Olivetti was probably a pretty ideal choice for the comic, if none of the Future Quest guys were available.
The back-up is a Ruff 'n' Reddy feature by Howard Chaykin. The cat and dog characters are obscure enough that I have actually never, ever seen a cartoon featuring them (or, if I did, it was long enough ago that I have no memory of it). I can't really speak then to what degree Chaykin reinvents them, but it's worth pointing out that it reads like a weird Howard Chaykin funny animal comic, in which the pair are professional, old time-y comedians who are down on their luck. The strongest gag, I thought, was the series of other comedians they work with, all of whom have names that lend themselves to teaming with them.
Suicide Squad/Banana Splits #1 by writer Tony Bedard, artists Ben Caldwell and Mark Morales and colorist Jeremy Lawson
This was probably the most out-there of the four books, what with there being the largest gulf in tone between the source material, and the fact that The Banana Splits was just a really, really weird show (and not even a cartoon, but an off-putting live-action one featuring people in frightening animal costumes...Liz Phair and Material issue's cover song of their theme song from the 1995 MCA anthology album Saturday Morning was pretty awesome, though!).
Writer Tony Bedard imagines the Banana Splits as a down-on-their-luck band of hybrid animal people (for whose existence no explanation is ever given) who are apparently native to the DC Universe. On their way to a gig, a misunderstanding leads to them getting busted by the cops, and they are shipped off to Belle Reve (perhaps because they are animal people? That doesn't get explained either). They don't exactly fit in there, and when Amanda Waller needs some extremely expendable Squaddies to reinforce Harley Quinn, Katana, Killer Croc and Deadshot on their rescue mission, the Splits suit-up and join the fray.
As their opponents are robots, the Splits aren't forced to kill any actual living things during the mayhem. It all leads up to a kind of forced gag, but that particular gag was perhaps the only reason a Banana Splits/Suicide Squad crossover would ever even have been a thing. Other than sheer weirdness, of course.
Caldwell's pencil art, inked by Mark Morales, is fantastic, and among the best art applied to the Suicide Squad in their 5,000 or so appearance since The New 52boot. Dude should really be drawing the regular series, or at least an arc or two of it, as the model for the current Suicide Squad series seems to be to put a different high-profile artist on each consecutive story arc.
His Harley Quinn is just right, capturing the basic look of the movie-inspired redesign with equal parts Animated Series puckishness and Suicide Squad craziness. He basically lands right in the middle of the two most pervasive versions of the character.
He gives Katana a redesign, with a more elaborate, samurai-inspired costume that is an improvement over most of her many costumes over the years, and his Deadshot is a more stripped-down and stylized version of the current costume. In fact, Caldwell's version may be the best of that particular (terrible) Deadshot costume.
The Banana Splits all look incredibly off, even wrong, though. Bingo (the monkey) is the only one who retains the strange person-in-a-furry suit look, given his over-sized head. The rest are simply animal men, and their sizes reflect which animal they are to some degree, rather than all being the same size. I don't know what the best choice for drawing The Banana Splits in a Suicide Squad comic is though, so I can't say Caldwell necessarily did it wrong, but making them realistic animal-men certainly looks and feels wrong to me. Like, even just being able to see their eyes, or Snork being an actual elephant-man instead of the weird, gray, shaggy, Cousin It-looking thing with a trunk and ears seemed un-Banana Split-like to me.
The back-up is a Snagglgepuss story, wait, I'm sorry, it's "The Snagglepuss Chronicles." It's by Mark Russell and Howard Porter and...it's a weird one. Snagglepuss is drawn as a more-or-less realistic felid of some kind, albeit a human-sized one with pink fur, creepy-looking "backwards" hind legs and a longer version of the yellow coat he sported during Laff-A-Lympics. Russell imagines him a quick-witted, controversial playwright of some sort, making his way through what appears to be the House Un-American Activities Committee hearings with a series of bon mots. Outside, he randomly meets Augie Doggie, who similarly looks weirdly realistic, and who says he wants to be a writer. Snagglepuss offers advice that does sound inspiring and, well, true, and he also flashes-back to a tragic event in his past (cameo by Peter Potamus).
I couldn't make heads or tails of this one, to be honest, and whatever joke Russell was trying to tell went over my head.
*After that weird--but surprisingly good!--2005 Space Ghost miniseries, I had spent some time thinking about Space Ghost joining the DC Universe, even if only on a temporary basis, and what that might be like. I assumed he would run into Green Lanterns. I thought it would be cool to see him as a POV character wandering around DC's Earth for a while too, maybe joining the Justice League for a while. I think the current Justice League, which has a pretty boring and incredibly static line-up these days, would really benefit from adding Space Ghost to it.
Labels:
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Thursday, September 24, 2015
Comic Shop Comics: September 23
Wait, did I say "Comics," plural? I meant "Comic," singular. Yes, tragedy has befallen my local comic shop this week, as the vast majority of their shipment did not arrive, and will not arrive until next week, meaning there was only a single new comic awaiting me at the shop.
I don't know why exactly this depressed me so, as I was missing just three comics (Batgirl, Scooby-Doo Team-Up and the latest issue of All-Star Section Eight, which was on re-order for me), and it's not like me "To Read" piles haven't grown to precarious, potentially dangerous heights, meaning I do have thousands of pages of quality comics I haven't read yet sitting here waiting for me.
There's just something uniquely disappointing about showing up on the comic shop on a Wednesday afternoon, expecting new comics, and not finding them, I suppose.
Luckily, the one comic on my pull-list that did arrive was fantastic.
Batman '66 #27 (DC Comics) Regular writer Jeff Parker and the Batman '66 team have filled out the rogues gallery of the original TV show by transplanting villains from the comics that never appeared and '66-icizing them. Killer Croc, Harley Quinn, Solomon Grundy, Clayface and Poison Ivy have made the trip so far, and now they're joined by Bane.
So, how do you make the luchadore-inspired 1990s archvillain into an era appropriate character? Why you make him an actual luchadore, of course.
In what reads a lot like a comic book created specifically for Chris Sims, Parker and artist Scott Kowalchuk have Batgirl and The Dynamic Duo follow a clue of The Riddler's regarding a plan to steal a ring to pro wrestling match. There, Gotham's champion The Hangman (another villain import, whose name is at least shared with the mystery killer in Batman: Dark Victory) is set to face off against Bane, who enters with his original running crew of Zombie, Bird and Trogg, all similarly decked out in luchadore masks.
(I never understood why those guys basically just disappeared after "Knightfall;" sure none of them were the mnost compelling of villains or anything, but giving Bane lieutenants made him seem like more of a leader type, and more of a Batman-like character).
Band, "The Bruiser From Below The Border," takes on Batman, and takes him down with his signature move (In one of my favorite gags, The Riddler declares that Batman can't prevail against a legitimate fighter like a pro wrestler, which the narrator also shouts about...apparently not only is wrestling not fake, it's the ultimate form of martial combat!).
Bane and his team return to the Mexican city of El Ciudad Del Craneo, seemingly victorious, but our stalwart crimefighters follow. There are a bunch of little in-gags in this book, and they come at a fast and steady clip. There's a tiny cameo by Dr. Alchemy '66 (look close!), Bane's distinctive Dark Knight Returns mask thingee, Mil Mascaras and El Santo and, in the perfect final panel, the definition of lucha libre.
The most inspired gag is probably that on the first pages, though, in which the Frank Gorshin version of Riddler is apparently wearing a John Astin mask as a disguise, although the one that made me laugh the most is the transition from the last panel on page 12 and the first panel on page 13, which I won't spoil.
I don't know for certain this was the best issue of Batman '66 so far, but it's certainly the best I can think of at the moment. It rewards one's knowledge of the TV series and the comics without ever actually mandating it, and is built around the same strange juxtaposition that made the show such a hit back in the day...and still funny in a lot of ways today. This story, like the show in general, gets a ton of mileage out simply putting its fantastical characters (and a few one-trait character actors) in mundane or otherwise inappropriate situations, and then acting like it's no big deal.
I'm sort of sorry to hear that DC's apparently canceling the ongoing Batman '66 after December's issue. But perhaps they can replace it on the schedule with a Bane '66 series by Parker and Kowalchuk...?
I don't know why exactly this depressed me so, as I was missing just three comics (Batgirl, Scooby-Doo Team-Up and the latest issue of All-Star Section Eight, which was on re-order for me), and it's not like me "To Read" piles haven't grown to precarious, potentially dangerous heights, meaning I do have thousands of pages of quality comics I haven't read yet sitting here waiting for me.
![]() |
| I have a system. |
Luckily, the one comic on my pull-list that did arrive was fantastic.
Batman '66 #27 (DC Comics) Regular writer Jeff Parker and the Batman '66 team have filled out the rogues gallery of the original TV show by transplanting villains from the comics that never appeared and '66-icizing them. Killer Croc, Harley Quinn, Solomon Grundy, Clayface and Poison Ivy have made the trip so far, and now they're joined by Bane.
So, how do you make the luchadore-inspired 1990s archvillain into an era appropriate character? Why you make him an actual luchadore, of course.
In what reads a lot like a comic book created specifically for Chris Sims, Parker and artist Scott Kowalchuk have Batgirl and The Dynamic Duo follow a clue of The Riddler's regarding a plan to steal a ring to pro wrestling match. There, Gotham's champion The Hangman (another villain import, whose name is at least shared with the mystery killer in Batman: Dark Victory) is set to face off against Bane, who enters with his original running crew of Zombie, Bird and Trogg, all similarly decked out in luchadore masks.
(I never understood why those guys basically just disappeared after "Knightfall;" sure none of them were the mnost compelling of villains or anything, but giving Bane lieutenants made him seem like more of a leader type, and more of a Batman-like character).
![]() |
| Remember these guys? |
Bane and his team return to the Mexican city of El Ciudad Del Craneo, seemingly victorious, but our stalwart crimefighters follow. There are a bunch of little in-gags in this book, and they come at a fast and steady clip. There's a tiny cameo by Dr. Alchemy '66 (look close!), Bane's distinctive Dark Knight Returns mask thingee, Mil Mascaras and El Santo and, in the perfect final panel, the definition of lucha libre.
The most inspired gag is probably that on the first pages, though, in which the Frank Gorshin version of Riddler is apparently wearing a John Astin mask as a disguise, although the one that made me laugh the most is the transition from the last panel on page 12 and the first panel on page 13, which I won't spoil.
I don't know for certain this was the best issue of Batman '66 so far, but it's certainly the best I can think of at the moment. It rewards one's knowledge of the TV series and the comics without ever actually mandating it, and is built around the same strange juxtaposition that made the show such a hit back in the day...and still funny in a lot of ways today. This story, like the show in general, gets a ton of mileage out simply putting its fantastical characters (and a few one-trait character actors) in mundane or otherwise inappropriate situations, and then acting like it's no big deal.
I'm sort of sorry to hear that DC's apparently canceling the ongoing Batman '66 after December's issue. But perhaps they can replace it on the schedule with a Bane '66 series by Parker and Kowalchuk...?
Sunday, December 28, 2014
DC vs. The Dewey Decimal System, Round Two
Last week's Batman '66 #18 featured one of those stories that "had to happen," as the excitable covers of old Marvel Comics might have said: Batgirl, whose secret identity is the head librarian of the Gotham Public Library, versus Bookworm, the literary-themed villain original to the TV show that this comic is based on.
Entitled "Bats, Books and Crazy Crooks," this Jeff Parker-written, Richard Case-drawn comic is a lot of fun. Bookworm and his beatnik henchmen muscle their way in to the Gotham Public Library at closing time in an attempt to steal its rarest book, The Cleoveritas, "a repository of occult knowledge." His plan is to force Gordon to open the display case for him, but she runs off into the stacks, in order to transform into her crimefighting alter-ego.
There's just one teensy-weensy problem with the story, which, if you are a librarian yourself, you may notice in the panel below:
Bookworm picks the lock himself, "thanks to call number 681 of the Dewey Decimal System." That...is not the call number for locks or lockpicking, at least not according to my librarian lady friend, and the DDC22, or The Dewey Decimal Classification Edition 22, which she showed me to prove it.
Now 681 is the call number for "precision instruments and other devices," although it's standard for the number to have a subdivision added to it (681.1, for example, would be the Dewey number for clocks). The book Bookworm is holding in his hand is entitled How Locks Work; locks would fall under call number 683, for "hardware and household appliances" and "comprehensive works on manufacture of hardware or building supplies."
Specifically, it should be in 683.3, "locksmithing," where you'd find books on locks that would include diagrams and detailed information on how they work.
So that brings us to the important question—who is as fault here? Did Bookworm bring that particular book with him, and just misspoke when he said it belongs under the call number of 681? As we've seen in the past, Bookworm has a rather idiosyncratic way of cataloging and organizing books when he's the one in charge of doing so.
Or did Bookworms find that book on the shelf at GPL, and it was therefore head librarian Barbara Gordon's fault that a book that should be under 683.3 was under 681? This seems unlikely, as Gordon is a conscientious enough a librarian that even when she's forced to throw books into the mouths of giant monster beatnik silverfish-men in order to keep them from devouring her, she's careful to use the activity as an excuse to weed the collection a bit.
Also, if Gordon had miscataloged the book, how would Bookworm have found it so quickly?
The other alternative? Maybe writer Jeff Parker just goofed, and editor Jim Chadwick missed it. That seems most likely, but oh so preventable, as anyone can call or walk into any public library and ask the reference librarians there what the Dewey Decimal number for locks would be...
Entitled "Bats, Books and Crazy Crooks," this Jeff Parker-written, Richard Case-drawn comic is a lot of fun. Bookworm and his beatnik henchmen muscle their way in to the Gotham Public Library at closing time in an attempt to steal its rarest book, The Cleoveritas, "a repository of occult knowledge." His plan is to force Gordon to open the display case for him, but she runs off into the stacks, in order to transform into her crimefighting alter-ego.
There's just one teensy-weensy problem with the story, which, if you are a librarian yourself, you may notice in the panel below:
Bookworm picks the lock himself, "thanks to call number 681 of the Dewey Decimal System." That...is not the call number for locks or lockpicking, at least not according to my librarian lady friend, and the DDC22, or The Dewey Decimal Classification Edition 22, which she showed me to prove it.
Now 681 is the call number for "precision instruments and other devices," although it's standard for the number to have a subdivision added to it (681.1, for example, would be the Dewey number for clocks). The book Bookworm is holding in his hand is entitled How Locks Work; locks would fall under call number 683, for "hardware and household appliances" and "comprehensive works on manufacture of hardware or building supplies."
Specifically, it should be in 683.3, "locksmithing," where you'd find books on locks that would include diagrams and detailed information on how they work.
So that brings us to the important question—who is as fault here? Did Bookworm bring that particular book with him, and just misspoke when he said it belongs under the call number of 681? As we've seen in the past, Bookworm has a rather idiosyncratic way of cataloging and organizing books when he's the one in charge of doing so.
Or did Bookworms find that book on the shelf at GPL, and it was therefore head librarian Barbara Gordon's fault that a book that should be under 683.3 was under 681? This seems unlikely, as Gordon is a conscientious enough a librarian that even when she's forced to throw books into the mouths of giant monster beatnik silverfish-men in order to keep them from devouring her, she's careful to use the activity as an excuse to weed the collection a bit.
Also, if Gordon had miscataloged the book, how would Bookworm have found it so quickly?
The other alternative? Maybe writer Jeff Parker just goofed, and editor Jim Chadwick missed it. That seems most likely, but oh so preventable, as anyone can call or walk into any public library and ask the reference librarians there what the Dewey Decimal number for locks would be...
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Meanwhile....
It's been a while since I've seen a re-run of the Batman live-action TV show—it was before I'd hit puberty, at the latest—so I don't remember the contents of that Batman's Batcave all that well, but I'm pretty sure the Batspresso machine is new.
Man, I could really go for a Batspresso right about now, I think, depending on how much it differs from espresso...
Anyway, the above image is, of course, a panel from Jeff Parker and Jonathan Case's Batman '66 #1 (the paper version), which I reviewed for Good Comics For Kids earlier this week. In addition to being a pretty fun comic, I think it's especially noteworthy as being another kid-friendly, all-ages DC comic featuring the publisher's most popular hero (which brings the grand total up to two with Li'l Gotham; maybe more if you wanna count the Beyond stuff, but I don't, because that's just some punk kid without a cape, not the real Batman), and for its unequivocal embrace of a show that used to hang like an albatross around too many in comics for too long. Anyway, you can read my piece here.
That there is John Constantine, temporarily imbued with the powers of Shazam, holding aloft the head of a demon he had just torn off with his bare, super-powered hands, taken from the pages of the Ray Fawkes-written, surprisingly-nice-looking Renato Guedes-drawn Constantine #5, a tie-in to DC's kinda awesome, kinda dumb "Trinity War," which I'm still covering for ComicsAlliance. You can read that here.
Finally read the first part of DC's reboot of the the He-Man and Masters of the Universe franchise—collected in He-Man and the Masters of the Universe Vol. 1—which is breathtakingly, mind-bogglingly bad comics, with art on part with that of Countdown and an extremely confused script no doubt hurt by the original writer leaving after just one issue. See all those credits up there? Those are just the writers and pencil artists; it leaves out the eight—eight!—inkers. You can read that piece here.
Man, I could really go for a Batspresso right about now, I think, depending on how much it differs from espresso...
Anyway, the above image is, of course, a panel from Jeff Parker and Jonathan Case's Batman '66 #1 (the paper version), which I reviewed for Good Comics For Kids earlier this week. In addition to being a pretty fun comic, I think it's especially noteworthy as being another kid-friendly, all-ages DC comic featuring the publisher's most popular hero (which brings the grand total up to two with Li'l Gotham; maybe more if you wanna count the Beyond stuff, but I don't, because that's just some punk kid without a cape, not the real Batman), and for its unequivocal embrace of a show that used to hang like an albatross around too many in comics for too long. Anyway, you can read my piece here.
That there is John Constantine, temporarily imbued with the powers of Shazam, holding aloft the head of a demon he had just torn off with his bare, super-powered hands, taken from the pages of the Ray Fawkes-written, surprisingly-nice-looking Renato Guedes-drawn Constantine #5, a tie-in to DC's kinda awesome, kinda dumb "Trinity War," which I'm still covering for ComicsAlliance. You can read that here.
Finally read the first part of DC's reboot of the the He-Man and Masters of the Universe franchise—collected in He-Man and the Masters of the Universe Vol. 1—which is breathtakingly, mind-bogglingly bad comics, with art on part with that of Countdown and an extremely confused script no doubt hurt by the original writer leaving after just one issue. See all those credits up there? Those are just the writers and pencil artists; it leaves out the eight—eight!—inkers. You can read that piece here.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Review: Fear Itself: Hulk
This Fear Itself-branded collection follows the strategy of Fear Itself: Dracula—that is, it opens with a story that ties into Marvel's Fear Itself series/event, and then fills up the rest of its page count with material having nothing at all to do with Fear Itself.
The book contains five issues of the Jeff Parker Hulk series, which at the time of publication did not actually star The Hulk (at least, not the regular, green-skinned one that Dr. Bruce Banner transforms into when he gets angry), but the red-skinned Red Hulk that General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross turned into when...when he wanted to shave his mustache...? I only read the Jeph Loeb-written Red Hulk stories before this, so obviously I don't know much about the mechanics of the Ross-to-Hulk transformations, aside from noticing that when the mustachioed Ross Hulks-out, he loses his 'stache for some reason. (As to why the series is entitled Hulk instead of Red Hulk is beyond me; you'll have to ask someone in Marvel's marketing department). The first two of those issues tie into Fear Itself.
In Hulk #37, we see the Red Hulk vs. Hammer-ed Thing fight previously seen in Fear Itself: Avengers again, this time drawn by artist Elena Casagrande and from the point-of-view of Red Hulk antagonists MODOK and Zero/One, a character completely new to me (But who seems to be part of the ongoing Ross/Red Hulk story that Parker was telling in his title before he had to link it up with Fear Itself for a few issues).
And in Hulk #38, MODOK, Zero/One and their respective forces interact with one another and ultimately fight against Red Skull's Nazi mech forces that are marching on New York City (the title character appears only on the last page, slowly waking up after being knocked into Vermont by one tremendous blow from the possessed Thing's evil magic hammer).
The next three issues, or the remaining 3/5ths of the collection entitled Fear Itself: Hulk, have nothing at all to do with Fear Itself, but instead continue to follow Ross/Red Hulk's struggle against Zero/One and an alien menace called Omegex, who looks like the Kirby-designed Destroyer seen in the Thor movie. A couple of Watchers, War Machine, Ross' childhood and his relationship with his daughter and Bruce Banner are all involved.
It's all well-written, and, to Parker's credit, despite knowing I walked in on a story already deep in progress, it was easy enough to follow. And even having just met most of these characters, the parameters of the conflicts were easy to understand and, more importantly, appreciate. The stakes of the Hulk's battle with Omegex are incredibly high, and Parker certainly sells a sense of tension to their conflict. It's very cosmic, very superhero, but as the book reached its climax, it seemed just as likely that the Red Hulk could die as his foe could be defeated (After all, Marvel's got another, better-known Hulk they could always have star in their comic entitled Hulk, you know?).
Longtime Parker collaborator Gabriel Hardman draws the last three issues, and it's worth noting that some pains were taken either in finding in Casagrande an artist whose style is similar enough to Hardman's that the book flows quite nicely and, if you weren't paying super-close attention or reading the credits, you might not notice the change, or pains were taken by Casagrande to work in a style that so closely resembled Hardman's.
On its own merits, this is a fine superhero story, one that delivers the exact sort of thrills one might desire or even expect from a superhero story in an effective and intelligent manner. But I don't think the packaging helps...anyone, really.
If you show up for the Fear Itself, then you're probably going to be disappointed in how little this has to do with Fear Itself. And if you were following Parker's Hulk comics in their collected format, you might expect them to appear in collections with titles like, I don't know, Hulk Vol. 1, Hulk Vol. 2 and so on.At the end of this trade, there's a two-page ad/reading list for various Hulk-related comics and...man, I can't even begin to make sense of it. There are Hulk Vols. 1-6 listed, featuring the Red Hulk, but they're all by Jeph Loeb. There are unnumbered books seemingly starring the Red Hulk and written by Jeff Parker like Red Hulk: Scorched Earth and Hulk: Fall of the Hulks—Red Hulk, and there are Parker-written Hulk comics with no volume numbers like Hulk: Fall of The Hulks—Savage She-Hulks and Hulk: World War Hulks—Hulked-Out Heroes and then there are also comics called Incredible Hulk, Incredible Hulks, Hulk: Son of Hulk, Hulk: Skaar Son of Hulk...Guys, I just want to read Hulk comics! Why does it have to be so confusing? Why is it that even an ad explaining what Hulk comics there are by what creators is so goddam hard to make sense of...?! Can't you just, like, pick a title and stick with it? And demarcate volumes and reading order using something like, oh, I don't know, numbers...?
I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but Marvel's Hulk comic has spawned a franchise that is every bit as confusing and new reader repellent as their X-Men and Avengers franchises.
The book contains five issues of the Jeff Parker Hulk series, which at the time of publication did not actually star The Hulk (at least, not the regular, green-skinned one that Dr. Bruce Banner transforms into when he gets angry), but the red-skinned Red Hulk that General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross turned into when...when he wanted to shave his mustache...? I only read the Jeph Loeb-written Red Hulk stories before this, so obviously I don't know much about the mechanics of the Ross-to-Hulk transformations, aside from noticing that when the mustachioed Ross Hulks-out, he loses his 'stache for some reason. (As to why the series is entitled Hulk instead of Red Hulk is beyond me; you'll have to ask someone in Marvel's marketing department). The first two of those issues tie into Fear Itself.
In Hulk #37, we see the Red Hulk vs. Hammer-ed Thing fight previously seen in Fear Itself: Avengers again, this time drawn by artist Elena Casagrande and from the point-of-view of Red Hulk antagonists MODOK and Zero/One, a character completely new to me (But who seems to be part of the ongoing Ross/Red Hulk story that Parker was telling in his title before he had to link it up with Fear Itself for a few issues).
And in Hulk #38, MODOK, Zero/One and their respective forces interact with one another and ultimately fight against Red Skull's Nazi mech forces that are marching on New York City (the title character appears only on the last page, slowly waking up after being knocked into Vermont by one tremendous blow from the possessed Thing's evil magic hammer).
The next three issues, or the remaining 3/5ths of the collection entitled Fear Itself: Hulk, have nothing at all to do with Fear Itself, but instead continue to follow Ross/Red Hulk's struggle against Zero/One and an alien menace called Omegex, who looks like the Kirby-designed Destroyer seen in the Thor movie. A couple of Watchers, War Machine, Ross' childhood and his relationship with his daughter and Bruce Banner are all involved.
It's all well-written, and, to Parker's credit, despite knowing I walked in on a story already deep in progress, it was easy enough to follow. And even having just met most of these characters, the parameters of the conflicts were easy to understand and, more importantly, appreciate. The stakes of the Hulk's battle with Omegex are incredibly high, and Parker certainly sells a sense of tension to their conflict. It's very cosmic, very superhero, but as the book reached its climax, it seemed just as likely that the Red Hulk could die as his foe could be defeated (After all, Marvel's got another, better-known Hulk they could always have star in their comic entitled Hulk, you know?).
Longtime Parker collaborator Gabriel Hardman draws the last three issues, and it's worth noting that some pains were taken either in finding in Casagrande an artist whose style is similar enough to Hardman's that the book flows quite nicely and, if you weren't paying super-close attention or reading the credits, you might not notice the change, or pains were taken by Casagrande to work in a style that so closely resembled Hardman's.
On its own merits, this is a fine superhero story, one that delivers the exact sort of thrills one might desire or even expect from a superhero story in an effective and intelligent manner. But I don't think the packaging helps...anyone, really.
If you show up for the Fear Itself, then you're probably going to be disappointed in how little this has to do with Fear Itself. And if you were following Parker's Hulk comics in their collected format, you might expect them to appear in collections with titles like, I don't know, Hulk Vol. 1, Hulk Vol. 2 and so on.At the end of this trade, there's a two-page ad/reading list for various Hulk-related comics and...man, I can't even begin to make sense of it. There are Hulk Vols. 1-6 listed, featuring the Red Hulk, but they're all by Jeph Loeb. There are unnumbered books seemingly starring the Red Hulk and written by Jeff Parker like Red Hulk: Scorched Earth and Hulk: Fall of the Hulks—Red Hulk, and there are Parker-written Hulk comics with no volume numbers like Hulk: Fall of The Hulks—Savage She-Hulks and Hulk: World War Hulks—Hulked-Out Heroes and then there are also comics called Incredible Hulk, Incredible Hulks, Hulk: Son of Hulk, Hulk: Skaar Son of Hulk...Guys, I just want to read Hulk comics! Why does it have to be so confusing? Why is it that even an ad explaining what Hulk comics there are by what creators is so goddam hard to make sense of...?! Can't you just, like, pick a title and stick with it? And demarcate volumes and reading order using something like, oh, I don't know, numbers...?
I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but Marvel's Hulk comic has spawned a franchise that is every bit as confusing and new reader repellent as their X-Men and Avengers franchises.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Hey, coma-ridden Dr. John Henry "Steel" Irons! Is there a Marvel comic you're looking forward to reading when you regain consciousness?

(Steel is so excited to read Jeff Parker, Gabriel Hardman and company's Atlas #1 that he fights his way out of a coma to do so in Superman #695, which was written by James Robinson and illustrated by Bernard Chang)
Sunday, June 29, 2008
The "What If...?" FF's snazzy new costumes

My sole disappointment with last year's Jeff Parker and Mike Wieringo collaboration Spider-Man and The Fantastic Four was that when Reed Richards went off to space and asked Spidey to fill-in as a member of the Four for him, he handed him a little press-on FF badge (seen above).
In my head, I was imagining how cool it would have been if Spidey got a special Fantastic Four-ized version of his costume to wear with the team, in their blue-colors and with a "4" instead of a Spider icon.
So I was downright giddy when I saw the "What If?" FF of Spider-Man, Wolverine, The Hulk and Ghost Rider don their own versions of FF uniforms in Wednesday's What If This Was the Fantastic Four?: A Tribute to Mike Wieringo.
The premise of the story, also written by Parker with art begun but sadly never finished by the late Wieringo, is that Reed, Johnny and Sue died and Ben gave up super-heroing to raise Franklin Richards, leaving Spidey, Wolvie, Ghostie and ol' Jade Jaws...er, ol' Gray Gams to fill set up shop in The Baxter Building and slap down the likes of Blastaar and Dr. Doom on the behalf of their predecessors.
Here's a wonderful little sequence in which they go into action in their new uniforms for the first time. Peter Parker and Johnny Blaze/Danny Ketch (it was supposed to be the latter, but is drawn like the former; it's explained in the book) are at an oudoor cafe when The Sandman appears, and Ghost Rider vomits out a signal flare for his commrades:


(The first two panels were penciled by Alan Davis; the third one is by Casey Jones)
Here's the best look at all four of the costumes at the same time, from the original cover by David Williams and Arthur Adams (They ended up re-purposing a splash page Wieringo drew as the cover for the project, once it transtitioned from just another Marvel What If? special into a tribute book):

Pretty cool, huh?
In the upper lefthand corner is another group shot of the team in their uniforms. He's not credited with it on the page, but that sure looks like Wieringo's work, doesn't it?
Here's a closer look:

Finally, Chris Giarrusso contribued a one-page Mini Marvels strip to the book, featuring the "random group of four heroes" filling in for the official Four. In the last panel, they also adopt Fantastic Four-ized versions of their costumes:

I like the way the other costumes match one another better, but these are kinda fun too, particularly Hulk's and Ghost Rider's.
Hey, check it out:


Looks like Ghostie is a Guy Gardner fan. It works for him.
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