Monday, March 23, 2009

Review: Super Human Resources #1

I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t somewhat disappointed in the first issue of Super Human Resources, a new superhero-themed comedy from writer Ken Marcus and artist Justin Bleep.

It’s certainly not a bad comic, but it’s garnered such strongly positive, pre-publication reviews that I was really expecting to have my socks knocked off by the first issue, and, well, my socks are still on.

The premise itself is solid, if familiar. Tim, an employee from Temps-R-Us, shows up at the corporate headquarters of the Super Crises International super-team, a JLA/Avengers-like team, where he’ll be working a cubicle as part of the SCI’s large support staff.

The humor comes from the marriage of the mundane, everyday real world to the more fantastic world of superheroes, for laughs, something done to great effect previously in Top 10 and the early issues of Dan Slott’s She-Hulk, as well as some lesser comics.

If Top 10 was a cop drama meets comic book superheroes and She-Hulk was a David E. Kelly lawyer show meets comic book superheroes, Super Human Resources is the The Office meets comic book superheroes, in subject matter if not necessarily style.

The first script is simple, yet effective (and pretty much a perfect first issue, in terms of letting a reader know everything they’ll need to know to decide if they want to read the second, third and fourth). Tim arrives in the lobby, meets his contact and she gives him a tour of the building on the way to his station, introducing him, and through him the readers, to the cast as she does so.

The cast consists mostly of analogues to Marvel and DC superheroes: There’s Swamp Thing/Man-Thing, here’s Iron Man, there’s Superman, over there’s The Vision/Red Tornado type, and over there’s a Batman/Wolverine and oh, hey, look, it’s Starfire. Given the explosion of superhero comics that use the Marvel/DC analogues, I’m always surprised when I see another iteration of it, and more surprised still when I see it working okay.

Marcus and Bleep get some credit for making some unusual choices though—a swamp monster, a werewolf guy—and making some jokes with some of these that work quite well (I liked Zeus, for example, but I’m a sucker for the old time-y aye-and-thy dialogue used in everyday conversations).

Not every gag worked, but there are a lot of jokes, a couple per page, enough that the misses don’t really do any damage. Bleep’s artwork also certainly helps cushion and damage from any of the clunkers.

It has a flat, bright, abstract-ish quality that gives off a Saturday morning cartoon vibe (Do they even have cartoons on Saturday mornings anymore? Maybe I should say “Cartoon Network vibe”…), and Bleep’s sense of design is highly idiosyncratic. I can’t imagine mistaking his artwork for anyone else’s, nor vice versa; there’s a strange energy about it, and looking at it, I can’t help but tracing the sharp, angular lines that his characters are made out of over and over with my eyes.

If you like superheroes—and the fact that you’re reading my site at all indicates to me that you probably do—I’d suggest giving the issue a try. I can’t guarantee you’ll like it, but there’s a pretty decent chance you will.

For more information about Super Human Resources, check out their extremely well put together and user-friendly website. (My job would be soooooo much easier if some of the major comics companies had websites as easy to use as theirs.)

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Okay, I give up: Who's this guy supposed to be?

In this past week's issue of Trinity, the Scott McDaniel-penciled back-up feature opens with a splash panel of the JLoA and the JSoA all flying away from the United Nations building towards their respective bases.

Here's a close-up of the JSoA:


I've been thinking about it for, like, four days now, and I can't figure out who this guy is supposed to be:


Even allowing for a coloring mistake, or McDaniel drawing someone who shouldn't be flying flying, or McDaniel drawing a different costume, I can't figure out who that's supposed to be.

Is it Amazing Man III? Because he can't fly. But even if he was accidentally drawn flying, he's also wearing a super-different costume, and has hair, while AM III is bald. That adds up to a lot of mistakes on a single character.

Is it a white character mis-colored black? Because even then, I can't think of a white guy on the JSoA who wears anything like that who would be flying. Looking at the rest of the team, it looks like pretty much everyone who was on the JSoA by the beginning of that Gog storyline is present and accounted for. It can't be Citizen Steel or Starman or Mister America III without being even more mis-drawn than Amazing Man.

I am totally stumped.

Any suggestions?


UPDATE: Okay, the consensus seems to be that it's miscolored Starman, which makes a lot of sense. If Starman had his mask off, you would be able to see his beard, so it looks like they just made him a black dude instead of a white dude, messed up his hair, colored his gloves as skin, and then colored his costume and feet wrong. Hey, it's a weekly comic. It's not a big deal at all, since none of those characters really have much of anything to do with the story; the only story in the panel was that the Hawkman and his team were flying off. I just couldn't figure out who it was supposed to be. Now my mind is at peace.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Your monthly reminder that Tiny Titans is the best:


That's Wonder Girl, Wonder Girl, Matilda the Minotaur, Cecelia the Cyclops and Yooni the Unicorn from this week's Tiny Titans #14 by Art Baltazar and Franco.

Okay, current Bat-people predictions,

based on these solicits for June releases:

—There are two new Batman, Jason Todd, who will be appearing in Batman, and Dick Grayson, who will be appearing in Batman and Robin (and, hopefully, Streets of Gotham, as who that Batman is will probably factor into if I buy it or not).

—Damian al Ghul...or does he go by Damian Wayne?...will be the new Robin, in Batman and Robin.

—Tim Drake will take the name Red Robin, and will be appearing in Red Robin, which would seem to contradict the fact that he temporarily adopted and abandoned the costume in his own title recently, from what I saw during flip-throughs, and be kinda stupid in general, but whatever.

—I'm going to be buying a lot more Batman comics. Batman is the only one with a creative team I find completely repellent, and Red Robin's team does nothing for me, but the other books all have good-go-great writers and great artists on them, and their two back-ups are exciting sounding...a nice solution to the we-want-to-keep-publishing-this-Manhunter-comic-even-though-only-like-20,000-people-will-buy-it dilemma, as well as the "How can we raise the price of our comics by a dollar without being total dicks like Marvel?" problem. As long as the back-ups are six-to-eight pages long, DC will have succeeded at raising the value at the same time as the price.

I assume if the previews are out this weekend, that means the full solicits will be out on Monday and Tuesday, which means I'll be quite nerdily discussing the DC and Marvel universes at much greater length early next week. In the mean time, let's all get excited about the fact that there's a light at the end of the current Batman franchise sucky comic tunnel!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

At the risk of overstating my excitement, I think this is the very best idea anyone's ever had about anything ever.

Review: The Amazon #1

Twenty years ago—to the month!—Comico published this environmentally-minded mystery-thriller by a couple of young turks named Steven T. Seagle and Tim Sale, both of whom would go on to become much, much more famous (Seagle for Sandman Mystery Theatre, Uncanny X-Men, American Virgin and It’s a Bird…, Sale for his many hit collaborations with Jeph Loeb).

Dark Horse is republishing the series, but rather than going straight to collection, they’re republishing it as a three-issue comic series, featuring “remastered” art scanned from Sale’s originals and recolored by Mattt Hollingsworth, with a new Sale cover more in keeping with his current style.

It’s a bit more expensive than your average single issue—$3.50 instead of $2.99—but a pretty nice-looking package for the extra 51-cents. It’s 26-pages long, has a two-page title page at the beginning, features a two-page article in which the creators interview each other about the work, and features just two house ads in the back of the book.

Despite its age, the artwork is extremely Tim Sale-y, the artist having at that time already arrived at the style his fans today will immediately recognize.

The page lay-outs are really something else, with each page consisting of a stack of long, horizontal panels that stretch from one edge of the page to the other, their borders thick and hand-drawn looking, as if made with a fat ink brush or Scripto-like marker.

There are about two points where this lay-out strategy varies, during tense moments where the protagonist and narrator feels he’s being watched or is trying to catch someone, at which point the panels become tall, vertical panels reaching from the top of the page to the bottom.

The story is that of a Malcolm Hilliard, an American journalist traveling to the titular rain forest to investigate the disappearance of an American worker from a timber-clearing operation, and mysterious acts of vandalism committed there that some attribute to the vengeful spirits of the forest.

Seagle provides two streams of narration—Hilliard’s personal journey, and the final, published article he’s working on—that tell the story in a surprisingly coherent way, with the different voices and different points of view of the same man complimenting each other far better than I would have expected. (I’ve seen so many poor examples of narration in comics that I guess I’ve come to distrust it in general).

The creator conversation in the back is a lot more interesting than these sorts of things usually are, perhaps because they are now so far away from the original work. They laugh about how unsuccessful it was the first time around, and Seagle talks about how it was a conscious effort to join the creators doing “more personal, non-mainstream work, which…seemed to have a social consciousness to it” in the late-eighties, citing Maus and Love and Rockets in particular.

It’s also a little depressing, as Seagle notes that, at the time of the conversation (December 2008), “in the last five months they’ve cleared a portion of the Amazon Rain Forest that is roughly the size of the state of Rhode Island.” In the years since the Comico publication, “the Amazon has lost ten percent more of its aggregate square footage.”

Obviously the first time around, The Amazon didn’t save the Amazon, and maybe it won’t this time either (you know, a digital, paper-less version would use less trees, guys), but it never hurts to try.

If nothing else, it should find a lot more Tim Sale and Steven Seagle fans in the comics-buying public this time around, and I imagine the eventual collected version will find getting mainstream media reviews and placement in bookstores and libraries a lot easier now than in ’89.

Of course, judging a comic like this on whether or not it manages to stop rainforest destruction isn’t a very fair metric, anyway. On all of the standard criteria for judging a comic book—the quality of the writing, the art, how they work together, etc.—it’s definitely a success.

So far, anyway. It’s possible the next two-thirds will be terrible. Possible, but unlikely.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Weekly Haul: March 18th

The Best of the Golden Age Sheena Vol. 2 (Devil’s Due Publishing) I had the first collection of Vertigo’s Air in my hand, intending to buy it since it was such a light week on new super-comics (and it was only $9.99! That’s a damn good value!), but then I saw this, and figured Air Vol. 1 will still be there the next super-light Wednesday.

I’ve been curious about the original Sheena since I read that old copy of Jules Feiffer’s The Great Comic Book Heroes that I quoted extensively during last summer’s Jules Feiffer’s Superhero Week, as Sheena was the only character Feiffer discussed at any great length that hadn’t since fallen under the ownership of either DC or Marvel (and Feiffer wrote that Wonder Woman didn’t look like she’d last a round against Sheena).

Additionally, this past month or so I started watching the Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan movies—all twelve of ‘em!—courtesy of a couple of DVD collections at the library, and have therefore been very interested in and excited about the 1930's/1940's jungle adventure genre (If you haven’t seen any of these, by the way, Tarzan, the Ape Man and Tarzan and His Mate are both incredible; the rest of ‘em have their charms, but those first two are just crazy good…and remarkably sexy and scary, being pre-Code).

So this is the trade I got this week, since there weren’t many single issues of interest out.

I’m only a few stories into it—I’ll write a full review for Blog@ this weekend, if you’re interested—but it’s a really nicely designed package, and includes not only an introduction, but also some amusing annotations by Steven E. De Souza (Example: “A tiger, in Africa? What kind of lunkheaded writers and editors put a tiger in Africa?”), and, in addition to the reprinted Sheena stories and a Sky Girl story, there are some vintage ads.

Oh, and while Air had a lot of blurbs from comics creators I respect and various mainstream-ish media outlets, the blurb on the back of this is from Frederic Wertham’s Seduction of the Innocent: “Torture, bloodshed, and lust in an exotic setting!”

That Wertham sure knew how to sell a comic book, didn't he?


Black Lighting #6 (DC Comics) Jen Van Meter and Cully Hamner’s re-telling of Black Lightning’s origin, necessary in large part to make some sense of all the random-ass retcons Geoff Johns, Judd Winick and others have done over recent years, complete. It’s decent enough, although, the main drawback of this issue being the way Van Meter’s narration conflicts with the other narrative threads, the dialogue and the art. It doesn’t conflict violently; that is, it doesn’t’ contradict or negate those threads in anyway, it just adds a lot of friction, with the unnecessary narration over-stuffing the information flow on each page and falling in unnatural places, making the reading less natural than it could (and probably should be). And I still think it went on about four issues too long. Anyway, it won’t go on any longer.

Question time! The next issue box reads “Follow Black Lightning in…The Outsiders.” Does that mean B.L.’s no longer in the Justice League? Or is he on both teams now? I don’t know because I had to quit reading JLoA on account of it being terrible, and I quit reading Outsiders because they insist on changing the creative team, the cast and the book’s direction on a bi-monthly basis. So I have no idea what Jeff’s team affiliation is at the moment.


Marvel Adventures The Avengers #34 (Marvel Comics) Paul Tobin writes and Matteo Lolli and Christian Vecchia draw a time travel tale teaming the Avengers with Sgt. Fury and his Howling Commandos. I hesitate to say much about it for fear of spoiling any of Tobin’s gags, but, if it helps sell it, I should note that the fact that it includes a scene of Spider-Man fighting house cats and another of ancient Egyptian charioteers riding on Segways.


Mysterius The Unfathomable #3 (DC/Wildstorm) Mysterius and company defend a clients house against a siege of Dr. Seuss monsters. It’s a neat idea, as is the whole bit about the creatures of Seuss books actually being demons from hell and the words of the books being coded chants to summon them, but, due to legal concerns, they’re actually “Dr. Gaust.”

On its own, that would perhaps be a reasonable and understandable substitution, but the issue opens at the scene of a David Blaine-like stunt-magician’s murder, and includes a panel referencing the “John James” massacre where his followers died from drinking poisoned Qwench, and I think the Anton Szanador LaVey stand-in reappears on the last page and…Gah, that’s just a whole hell of a lot of fictional stand-ins for real people in a single story, you know?

And I don’t know that they’re all entirely necessary. Certainly artist Tom Fowler couldn’t have drawn The Grinch and The Cat in the Hat stalking our protagonists without fearing being sent a strongly-worded legal document, but certainly the name “Jim Jones” could be used, couldn’t it?

For whatever reasons writer Jeff Parker and Fowler chose to half-disguise these various elements, the sheer amount of them in this issue overwhelmed the actual story (at least form where I sit).

I’m not dropping the book in disgust or anything, but I think it was overall the weakest issue so far, as evidenced not only by that aspect, but also the forced plotting of the sister and nephew being introduced a panel before they were needed to perform.



Super Friends #13 (DC) Because it was such a light week, I impulse bought this based on the fantastic-as-always J. Bone cover. The story within, by Sholly Fisch and Dario Brizuela, is pretty weak, but perhaps serviceable—unlike some of the other Johnny DC-branded books, Super Friends is a kids comic rather than an all-ages one. And be warned, if you buy this just to see John Stewart play lion tamer or The Flash dress up like a clown, you will be disappointed. Unless you consider a fat bearded lady dressing up as Wonder Woman or a clown dressing up as Aquaman just as good, in which case you won’t.



Tiny Titans #14 (DC) Huh, Aqua-Oh’s don’t just stay crunchy in milk, they stay crunchy in milk underwater? So, this issue the Tiny Titans try to figure out what exactly Lagoon Boy is after a pet club meeting on Paradise Island, Cyborg invents a super-powerful remote-controlled vacuum cleaner, Beast Boy and Miss Martian have a shape-change off and the Wonder Girls visit Cecelia the Cyclops.

It’s awesome.


Trinity #42 (DC) It’s weeks like this, weeks during which no new super-comics dealing with ongoing super-universe soap opera stuff come out, that I really appreciate a book like Trinity. When there’s nothing else, there’s always this, you know?

As I’ve noted before, the pacing is somewhat off with the book, something which has become more apparent as it gets closer to the conclusion, and the resolution of certain plot points become more and more apparent. Toward the beginning, when disparate story elements were being introduced, the speed of the pace didn’t seem to matter, as it wasn’t clear how they would all eventually connect.

Still, superheroes! And lots of ‘em! Just when I needed ‘em!

The Kurt Busiek/Mark Bagley opener features the still semi-divine Trinity continuing to put the DCU back in order, with villains, heroes and Alfred and the Supporting-player Squadron all resuming their natural forms. In the back up, this week hastily scribbled by Scott McDaniel, the JSoA and JLoA part ways, and Hawkman and Gangbuster become more prominent players once again.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

No Sale: Ultimatum #3

If you haven't been to the comic shop yet this week, when you do go, be sure to flip through the latest issue of Jeph Loeb and David Finch's miniseries destroying Marvel's Ultimate Universe (by making it so stupid and gross that no one would ever want to read another comic book branded with the word "Ultimate" ever again).

I haven't been reading this thing, on account of it being written by Jeph Loeb, but I'm kind of looking forward to borrowing the eventual trade collection from the library some day, as it looks so stupid and so gross that it looks like it could conceivably be enjoyable in a holy-shit-grown-men-made-this-and-other-grown-men-paid-them-money-to-make-it kind of way.

So, flipping through this particular issue, I saw...

—Hank Pym, now wearing his Marvel Universe Yellowjacket costume (because most of those writers charged with recreating the Marvel Universe for the 21st century for the Ultimate line have decided the best way to do that is to just ape whatever was done in the plain old regular Marvel Universe in the 20th century), grows to giant-size and bites off The Blob's head. The Blob, you may recall, ate the Wasp's intestines in a previous issue. So naturally Pym retalliates by eating (or at least biting off) part of the The Blob. Naturally, the way to retalliate against someone doing something unspeakable to a loved on is to do the exact same unspeakable thing to them.

—The Scarlet Witch, wearing a costume that includes thong panties, arguing with her dad. Given the fact that Loeb wrote about her incestuous relationship with her brother in his Ultimates miniseries (and, through the character Wasp gave the impression that siblings having a sexual relationship wasn't really a big deal), I was afraid to read the dialogue bubbles in that panel.

—The woman I assume is supposed to be Valkyrie has a hole torn in her top, which artist David Finch keeps drawing in different places in each drawing of her, and, although the rip is in a different place upon her breast in each drawing, it never reveals her nipple. Because Valkyrie doesn't have nipples anymore (?). I know the "gore/violence is okay, nipples and genitals are not double-standard" is nothing new in American pop culture, but it's especially striking in a story with this much gore and violence.


—Hank Pym gets skeltonized in some sort of explosion or energy blast.


I can't say for sure, but I think Jeph Loeb is trying his hardest to replace Geoff Johns as the perceived preeminent purveyor of superhero gore.

This is what Charles Addams looked like as a baby:

Sunday, March 15, 2009

The only thing that depresses me more than comics is children's picture books


This is the cover of Grumpy Cat (Boxer Books; 2008), a children's picture book written and illustrated by Britta Teckentrup. It's a big book—12-and-a-half inches tall, 10 inches wide—and Teckentrup fills the huge spaces the two-page spreads (twenty inches!) with huge, bold (but sparsely detailed) images. These consist mostly of the two main cat characters, which look to be made of paint, but extremely well articulated. The characters seem "real" in their expressions and movements, but instead of fur and flesh and all the delicate bits that make up real cats, they're simply a few swathes of different colors of paint, if that makes sense (and it probably doesn't).

Anyway, this is one of those children's books that just bummed me the hell out.

Check this out:

Once there was a cat who lived all alone.

He ate on his own. He slept on his own. He spent every day alone.


Aw, isn't that horrible? But wait, here's where it goes from pretty sad to heart-breaking:

He would sit between the trash cans and look very, very grumpy.

At night, other cats in the neighborhood would meet and play together. Cat wanted to join in, but he just didn't know how.

The other cats didn't ask him because they thought he was a grumpy cat. But really—he was a lonely cat.


Are you in tears yet? I...I have something in my eye. That takes us through the first four pages of the book.

Things work out okay for Cat, as during a rainstorm a kitten appears beneath Cat, seeking shelter. Cat tries to leave Kitten, but Kitten spends the middle section of the book rubbing up on Cat and trying to endear itself.

Eventually Kitten wars Cat down, "And Cat was never grupy again...Well, almost never."

So everything works out okay for Cat, who is no longer Grumpy Cat or Lonely Cat, just Cat, and Kitten, as the two individuals who were all alone now had another. So I guess that's good, but man, it's so sad on the way to the happy ending.

Anyway, that's this week's recommendation for a children's book, the horribly sad Grumpy Cat.

Monday Morning Man vs. Cephalopod Moment





(A terrible scan of a famous Charles Addams cartoon—although they're almost all famous, aren't they?—that's no doubt appeared in several different publications over the years, but I scanned it out of Linda Davis' Charles Addams: A Cartoonist's Life, which I highly recommend).

A transciption of me talking to the screen during the last two episodes of Batman: The Brave and The Bold

"Deep Cover for Batman!"

—Red Hood…? Mr. Freeze...? No, it’s Red Hood.

—Earth-23?

—Owl-Man?

—Oh shit, yeah, this must be an evil universe.

—You know, Red Hood is a pretty cool costume, for a hero or a villain. I probably haven’t mentioned lately how much I hated Jason Todd’s Red Hood look, where he wore what looked a little like an off-brand Spider-Man mask on his head and normal street clothes. The next version, the one he wore in Countdown, where he even lost the helmet and just went wit a little eye-mask and street clothes also sucked. Neither was as cool as his Hush's look, nor as cool as this Red Hood’s look. You can't beat a tuxedo with a big red cape and an opaque red dome-shaped helmet ensemble.

—“Injustice Syndicate.” Nice.

—Bat-signal, Commisioner, Riddler, Batcave…I didn't start watching this series until halfway through the season, so I don't know if this is the first time any of these familiar Gotham City elements have appeared or not, but, if not, they're at least very rare. This is certainly the first time I've seen any of them on the show, and I took part of the show's premise to be that it was Batman in different settings with different friends and foes than those you've seen in his prior TV shows.

—That’s a pretty cool Owlman costume. It looks like an Elseworld’s Bat-costume I’ve seen before in the coloration, but I can’t remember where exactly.

—The owl eyes are particularly cool. When they light up like that and he smiles, he looks like one of those creepy Felix the Cat-style clocks with the swinging tails.

—Hmmm….how’d Batman get Owlman’s costume off him without removing the straight jacket first…?

—“Like looking into a fun house mirror…of evil!” Yes. This show has some fantastic dialogue.

—A non-Mark Hamill-sounding cartoon Joker sounds…off to me.

—I like how Dick Sprang-y this Joker looks.

—Evil Atom’s reverse-colored costume looks pretty cool.

—It occurs to me that this episode if chockful of action figure designs. Like, all the toy-makers would have to do is change the paint jobs, and they’ve got evil duplicates of most of their hero figures.

—Hmm, Batman was wearing his Batman costume under the Owlman costume? I bet he was sweating bullets the whole time.



—Ooh, I like the evil Plas’ look! And Yellow Lantern has a pretty neat costume too…it’s cooler than Sinestro-as-a-Sinestro-Corps-member's version of a "Yellow Lantern" costume, actually.

—Arrgh, what are the hero versions of the villains called? I want to know what the good Black Manta and the good Gentleman Ghost are called! Come to think of it, I don't know all the evil versions of the heroes' codenames either; like, are Fire and Aquaman still called Fire and Aquaman?

—Ha ha, Earth-161, a zombie planet. Might as well have gone ahead and said 616 though. Marvel can’t, like, sue over that, can they?


“Game Over for Owlman!”

—I don’t like the fact that Batman’s gear is all red-on-black, while he wears blue and gray. It bugs me for some reason; given his obsessive qualities and the way he marks everything he owns with his logo, Batman seems like he'd be all about color coordination.

—"Written by Joseph Kuhr?" Or “Joe Kuhr?” Or Joker? That can’t be a real name…

—Awesome! First appearance Batman! I do so love that costume!

—Batman can’t have spider holes! Those are Saddam Hussein things! It’s cool that he does though…Especially since they open up in such comically unlikely places, like inside a hot dog cart…

—Highfather…? No, the Joker. It’s not a New God power crook that reaches out to grab Batman from off-screen, it's a vaudeville cane hook, of the sort they'd use to pull lame acts off the stage.

—Aaaaugh! Joker’s voice…so…weird…!!

—Batman and The Joker in an unlikely Brave and The Bold team-up! Where have I seen that before…?

—Yay, the Jokermobile!

—And the classic Batmobile! Oh God, I love you Batman: The Brave and The Bold!

—Okay, I'm used to the Joker’s voice now. I guess it's actuall kinda refreshing not hearing Hamill, even though I like Hamill’s Joker voice better. It’s much more scary and crazy, but I do like this Joker’s thespian-like, showmanly voice.

SQUEEEEEAALLL! Look at all the Batmen! Kelley Jones' vampire Batman! Pirate Batman! The Bat-Hulk! And a fucking cowboy Batman!?!?! Okay, that clinches it: Batman: The Brave and The Bold is officially the greatest thing to happen in the history of television.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Everything I have to say about Watchmen (the movie)

Note: Okay gang, look, this is going to be a long post. Like, even by my standards. There's really no way around it. I decided to try and do this in a bullet-point style sort of thing to keep it shorter than it would be if I worried about transitions and topic paragraphs and introductions and conclusions and all that fancy-schmancy stuff you should expect in good writing, but well, you're getting my writing for free, so you'll just have to deal with it not being as good as it could be, okay? I'd recommend just kind of skimming this article and stopping when you see some aspect of the film you'd like to hear more about (i.e. glowing genitals).

*****************************

So, Watchmen the movie, huh? They actually went ahead and made it, and it was really in theaters and everything. I still kind of have a hard time believing the movie exists, despite having seen it myself a week ago, and seeing silly little updates of every step of progress throughout the entire process, and seeing a good ten to 20 articles about it every day for at least the last month.

I've been pretty apathetic about the existence of the film. I don't think anyone should have bothered making one, but I certainly understand why they did ($$$), and I was never, like, appalled by the thought that they were going to make a movie adaptation.

Even when I saw the creators, who have done a series of decent but flawed (or flawed but still somehow entertaining films, depending on how you wan to look at it) films I neither had my hopes lifted, nor felt any panic (Director Zack Snyder was responsible for the sufficient but pointless fast-zombie Dawn of the Dead remake and the hilariously entertaining, politically confused, crazy-ass 300 adaptation; screenwriter David Hayter worked on the first two X-Men movies, which I liked okay save for the maguffins, and The Scorpion King, which had its moments; and this was to be Alex Tse's first film work, according to IMDb).

As to the why of my thinking they shouldn't bother with a Watchmen movie, it mainly came down to not seeing the point (again, aside from the obvious point of making some money off it).

Now, there's rarely a point to a lot of big studio movies beyond making money; the point of your average horror movie is to make a scary movie for teenagers to go to on a weekend night while you take their money, the point of your average comedy is to make people laugh while yout their money from them, and so on.

Watchmen's reputation makes it a rather different endeavor though; there's a reason so many people have been talking so much about it compared to, say, Punisher: War Zone or The Spirit, you know?

But Watchmen the comic/graphic novel was and remains very much a work of its time. It had a great deal to say, but most of it had to do with the real world as it looked in the early to mid-1980s and the comic books of the same period. It still has a great deal of value today, beyond its status as a cultural artifact and a sort of fly-in-amber commentary on its day, in terms of craft, but those craft elements simply cannot carry over into an adaptation to another medium, because for whatever similarities there may be, however the media may have influenced one another's development, the craft of a comic book simply cannot be translated to a film (I won't bore you with a few hundred more words on this aspect, but instead of repeating things that other people said in a more clumsy and wordy fashion then they've said them, I'd recommend reading Kevin Church's "Why I will not be seeing Watchmen" post* and Joe "Jog" McCulloch's review of the film**).

Since the craft elements are untranslateable, and the time it was of and commenting on has now passed, what was the point of the film? It would have to find something new to say somehow.

I understand there was some (perhaps brief) talk of making a Watchmen film that dealt with 9/11 or the "War on Terror,” which makes a certain amount of sense—if the graphic novel dealt with what some in the defense and intelligence world refer to as World War III, why not have the movie deal with what those same some call our current world war, World War IV?

Certainly many would howl about such drastic changes; I sure as hell wouldn't have wanted to see Snyder direct that movie (I didn't despise his political point-of-view in 300 as much as I despised his apparent lack of understanding that there was a political point-of-view; Persia and Sparta as depicted in the move are both equally analogous to the United States and the Iraqi insurgency/"the terrorists"). But there was a chance for a great film there, even if only a slim one. Certainly a greater chance than simply filming as much as the graphic novel as they could get away with before a studio executive was like, "Six hours? Fuck you Snyder. Cut some of this shit out."

I've heard the argument (in several places, and from several folks, so I apologize if it was youwho said it and I'm not properly crediting you, dear reader) that perhaps the Watchmen movie was going to deconstruct the superhero movie in the same way that the Watchmen comic deconstructed superhero comics and man, that would have been something.

Again, it's unlikely these guys would have been the ones to pull it off, but that would have been a more vital, more risky film to make, one that tried to replicate the formal and aesthetic achievements of the source material in a different medium instead of simply trying to translate it the best they could.

This argument was made, by the way, in reaction to the initial revelation of the costume designs, which showed a great deal of influence from previous superhero movie costumes. So maybe it was simply the costume designers who were going for a Watchmen that is to movies the way Watchmen was to comics, and the director and screenwriters and producers weren't on the same page.

As interesting as that approach might have been, it wouldn't have been the right time for that either. You see,

It’s too early for a Watchmen film. I know it seems like we're reaching some sort of comic book superhero movie critical mass these days, but superhero movies based on comic books haven't yet begun to replicate superhero comics, for some fairly obvious reasons.

While a couple of franchises have managed to make it to three films, the Spider-Man movies, for example, are probably the first to do so in a way that replicated the serial nature of comics—the same director, the same actors, the same characters, sub-plots that spanned from installment to installment.

X-Men had three films, but changed direction, director and focus. For all the Batman movies, no director/actor combo has lasted longer than two movies so far. Superman has had five films but, again, characters, actors and creators would change too frequently to give them a sense of continuity comparable to, say, a two-year run on a Superman comic book. So Spider-Man and mmmmmaybe the X-Men franchise are the closest we've come to movies behaving like superhero comics in terms of serial storytelling. It's hardly a common practice yet.

Additionally, the idea of a shared superhero universe is something that is just now being toyed with, with those little post-credits scenes at the end of last year's Iron Man and Incredible Hulk. Marvel is starting to build a Marvel Universe in the movies, but, thus far, there's no sense of a shared setting that belongs to groups of superheroes the way that the alternate Earth-4 of Watchmen does (Unless you count films with original superhero universes, like The Incredibles or Sky High or Mystery Men).

The Watchmen graphic novel came at a time when the superhero comic seemed to be dead or dying, or at least had gotten so entrenched and generated enough cultural gravity that it was possible to deconstruct it. The superhero movie just isn't there yet. They've been making the things off and on for decades of course, but the current superhero movie has only been around for about a decade now, with those in the '70s, '80s and '90s seeming to belong to a different trend all together.

To use an analogy to a different genre, I suppose it would be a little like a deconstructionist Western like Unforgiven or Dead Man being made when the Western was still in its infancy, and the standard markers of the Western genre were still being formed.


And yet, it's also too late for a Watchmen movie. The comics series ended and became a graphic novel by 1986, right? That predates almost every single comic book superhero movie, save the first three Superman movies and the Batman with the anti-shark repellant (Does Swamp Thing count as a superhero? If so, his first movie was 1982). I don't know how much (if any) influence Watchmen had on 1987's Superman VI: The Quest for Peace, but by the time Tim Burton's 1989 set-off the first sustained cycle of superhero movies, the lessons of Watchmen seem to have been thoroughly digested.

In fact, has there even been a comic book superhero movie since 1989's Batman that wasn't dark, somewhat violent, fairly realistic and aimed as much as adults as at kids? The Fantastic Four movies seem to be the lightest-hearted, but in the time since, all comic book superhero movies have been (Bam! Biff! Pow! Holy Maturity, Batman!) not just for kids anymore. (Without double-checking, I'm fairly certain the animated-but-released-for-theaters-first Batman: Mask of the Phantasm and Fantastic Four: Rise of The Silver Surfer have been the only PG comic book superhero movies in the past 20 years).

The things that Watchmen (along with Dark Knight Returns) is credited with doing to superhero comics’making them grow up, forcing more sophisticated and/or dark subject matter and more complex storytelling, addressing teens and adults instead of kids and teens—is something that all superhero movies do. How then does one make a Watchmen movie post-Watchmen?

There may be a way to do it so that none of these timing issues matter, but I can't prescribe what that way might be. Snyder and company had to do it though, and I don't think they did, or even tried very hard to. I think this was the existential question the film version had to wrestle with—justifying its own existence as something other than just another supehero film (only with an R rating). And I'm not sure it ever even stepped into the ring.


A single "co-creator" credit looks extremely silly. That's cool that they were honoring Alan Moore's wishes by not having his name on the film, and honoring Gibbons' contributions by having his on it, but it looks really weird and makes everyone involved seem like children. If I were Moore, I sure as hell wouldn't want my name on a movie ever again, but can he really control his byline like that, if he doesn't have control of what it's attached to? Was there really no more elegant way to handle the situation, like maybe "Based on the graphic novel designed and drawn by Dave Gibbons" or something…?


I wasn't kidding when I said I thought Watchmen was the best Zack Snyder movie ever. At least, not about where it falls on a list of Zack Snyder movies ranked by quality. I enjoyed 300 a lot more, and if I had to choose between watching 300 and Watchmen again, I'd certainly choose 300, but Watchmen is certainly the all-around better film. There were things to like and loathe about all three of Snyder's films, but less to loathe about this one then the others.


I did not care for Dr. Manhattan's design. He looked much, much better on a big screen then he did in the trailers, commercials and photographs I had previously seen online and TV in terms of how glow-y he was and how fake-looking he was, but I found his physique incredibly distracting.

Bear with me for this silly (sillier) little nitpick a moment. Okay, Dr. Manhattan was really, really well built, right? Like, huge muscles; he looks like he probably works out every day, and would dwarf most of the cast of 300.

Why is that, exactly? He clearly doesn't look like Billy Crudup would naked, so some force has changed his musculature. Did he do it to himself? Because he's able to control, in the film, the shade of blue he is, his size, whether or not he has a little symbol drawn on his forehead. Couldn't he just choose to look like Billy Crudup at all times then? Why did he decide he'd rather be bald, pupil-less, body hair-less and built like that? Or did the accident/the universe determine what he'd look like, including his physique, and he had no control over it? If that's the case, and it seems more logical, then how come he can control other, lesser aspects of his physical appearance?


I was disappointed in the size of Dr. Manhattan’s penis. I was expecting it to be huge, based on Brian Hibbs’ reaction (“I was distracted by…Jon's massive cock. It is pretty big, alright, and you notice it in every scene it is in”) and Jon Stewart’s mention of Billy Crudup “swinging some pipe” in his interview with the actor. It didn’t seem that big to me, and if it distracted me at all, it was because I was trying to see if it was as big as I was lead to believe.

It didn’t look all that penis-like to me though. Like, it lacked some definition, which probably only struck me at all because every inch of the good doctor’s physique is so defined and exploded.


I thought Crudup did a really good job by the way, and, like Jackie Earle Haley, it seemed a damn shame that he had to spend so much of the movie as a vocal actor, obscured by a special effect.


This is more a matter of adaptation than how the film itself was, but the casting choices for Dan Dreiberg and Laurie Jupiter were less than ideal. Patrick Wilson was quite good and I don't think Malin Akerman was quite as terrible as some film critics have called her out for being, but neither one looked terrible middle-aged, over-the-hill, retired, or in their second act or third act of their superhero careers. In fact, Akerman was quite clearly exceptionally young and fit, and Wilson didn't exactly look schlubby in the nude either. (Physically, I pictured a real-life Dan Dreiberg looking a bit like John Hodgman...not that he would have been the best actor for the role or anything).

Of course, Akerman is 31-years-old, and I suppose that may actually be considered middle-aged for a Hollywood actress these days.


The opening credit sequence was fantastic. It was a seriously great piece of filmmaking, and probably the creative climax of the entire film. It’s the only part of the film that really stuck in my head the way great scenes in great movies do, the only part that I wanted to go back and rewatch as soon as possible.


The costumes were just no good. Rorshach and The Comedian looked pretty great, yes, that much is true. And The Minutemen did as well.

I think Nite Owl II and Silk Spectre II’s costumes were fine on their own, and in a different movie would have been fairly cool superhero costumes, but the movie makes a pretty strong argument that Nite Owl’s costume didn’t need to look less ridiculous on him than it did in the graphic novel. The Minutemen’s costumes were all meant to be ridiculous looking, and succeeded without sinking the scenes around them, why did Nite Owl have to look like he was wearing a cool, post Batman ’89 costume, while Hooded Justice and Mothman and those guys were allowed to look a little sillier? T(hat silliness, by the way, made the violence and the rape scene in general seem all the stronger, as the content was in such a sharp contrast to the costuming).

As for Silk Spectre, shouldn’t her costume have had a piece of silk or a silk-like material somewhere on it? She looked more Latex Lady than Silk Spectre to me.

Ozymandias’ costume was by far the worst. Like Nite Owl’s, it’s a very ‘90s movie superhero costume, despite the fact that it’s the mid-eighties (Actually, he was shown wearing it as far back as the sixties and seventies, wasn’t he?).

The movie makes much of his pharaoh and emperor fetish, yet he eschews wearing anything that looks like something Ramses II or Alexander the Great might have rocked, at least not anything that doesn’t look like it was filtered through Batman and Robin first. Even the headband that suggests laurels looks like it could also be some kind of sci-fi en-smartening device.

The chest plate also sucks some of the drama out of the bullet-catching scene, as someone wearing what looks like a Kevlar tunic jumping up after being shot isn’t really all that dramatic. Of course he survived the shot; look what he was wearing!


The Dylan song aside, the soundtrack was just awful. The particular pieces of music were decent enough—I like some of them quite a bit on their own terms—but the way they were applied to the film were as blunt and obvious as possible. “The Times They Are A-Changin’” playing over decades of times a-changin’ is also a terribly obvious choice, but perhaps it didn’t seem so bad because it was the first super-obvious soundtrack choice.

But the “Ride of the Valkyries” in Vietnam bit? That’s what you’d use in a comedy parodying Apocalypse Now, not a serious movie making some sort of serious point about Vietnam.

Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” during a sex scene between two people who wanted to have sex with one another finally having it and achieving the orgasm that was earlier denied?

Jimi Hendrix’s “All Along the Watchtower” playing, synched up so that we see watchtowers when we hear the word “watchtower” and see two figures approaching it when we hear the lyric “two riders were approaching…” Jesus.

Is Zack Snyder fucking fifteen years old?


Ozymandias’ first line of dialogue made me think, “Wow, they’re really telegraphing the bad guy here aren’t they?” Given the fact that the book is over 20 years old, I suppose they need not have played the mystery angle up too hard, but they didn’t have to be so up front about it either.


It’s way too violent. I’m not entirely sure why it might have been made to be so violent. Perhaps Snyder was thinking that Watchmen is supposed to seem extremely violent, and the amount of violence in the graphic novel would now seem quaint twenty-some years later and he therefore needed to ratchet it up.

Or perhaps he wanted to go out of his way to earn an R-rating, and wasn’t sure Malin Akerman’s nipples and a few F-words would have done it without limbs being shattered and severed. Or maybe he just loves the stuff.***

Why ever there’s so much violence and gore in the movie though, there’s way too much of it, and during at least one scene, it does serious damage to whatever story Snyder’s trying to tell, suggesting moral equivalence between all of The Watchmen (Don’t look at me; that’s what they called themselves!), and, somewhat irresponsibly, the crimes of their foes (More on that below).

What’s also odd is that the major challenge Snyder faced in adapting the graphic novel to the screen (beyond the transfer of a work created so specifically for one medium into a medium it was not at all created for) was trying to get it all in. A large part of the reason it’s always been called unfilmable was that it was such a long, dense story.

So any time wasted on a gory, arm-breaking, wall-shattering battle is just time that could have been put to use developing Ozymandias’ character or explaining a climax that’s less nonsensical or getting in something that just couldn’t fit into the film.

Did we need to see a minutes-long fight between The Comedian and his killer at the beginning? Did it communicate any information that simply cutting from The Comedian facing his attacker and then being thrown out the window wouldn’t have?


The new ending doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. I understand why they didn’t go with the squid.**** Ozymandias’ weird, unexplained-in-the-movie cat creature aside, there were no real hints that a fake Lovecraftian alien menace is the sort of thing Ozymandias could cook up, and while Lovecraftian creatures and alien invasions are at home in the comic book medium, up on the silver screen it would look like something for a different genre film—a stage coach robbery in the middle of a romantic comedy.

But I assumed the squid was removed to make a more realistic, believable ending, not a more ridiculous, less believable ending. Making Dr. Manhattan the threat that unites the world seems somewhat less out of left field than the squid would have in that Dr. Manhattan is an element of the film we were introduced to early on, and it’s understood that Dr. Manhattan is something that rightly scares the world.

But as something the whole world would rally against? It doesn’t hold up to two seconds of though.

Firstly, why would the USSR and the US decide to work together against Dr. Manhattan? If one of them is unable to deal with him with their thousands of nuclear missiles, how exactly would doubling the number of nuclear missiles help? It’s a little like the crooks who impotently empty their guns into Superman’s chest and then throw the empty gun at him thinking, “If only I had a couple more guns to shoot at him! Bullets 12-18 might have worked where 1-6 didn’t!”

I was just a little kid in t he early ‘80s, so I guess I don’t have a great idea what the mood in USSR was at the time, but I’m kind of unconvinced that a former U.S. operative destroying a bunch of cities around the world would have inspired the Russians to make nice. Would they believe the U.S. that it was out of their control? Would the Nixon who was ready to sacrifice the East Coast of the U.S. to destroy Russia give a shit about a lost city here or there? How would that scare him straight?

And if Dr. Manhattan could have scared the world into peace, wouldn’t it have been easier for Ozymandias just to ask him to play along? Couldn’t John just have threatened to destroy some cities, and maybe blow up an uninhabited island or something?

Or, and here’s a novel idea, instead of killing millions, why not just assassinate Nixon?


Which brings me to another point. (Note the new bullet.) By focusing so much attention on President Nixon, particularly in the scenes where we see him talking to his generals, mentioning a two-day deadline, and moving down the Defcon countdown, it becomes clear that nuclear war isn’t just the inevitable outcome of the Cold War (or what seemed like the inevitable outcome in the early ‘80s, anyway), but rather that it was all Nixon’s fault.

The point is made that he’s the one who militarizes Dr. Manhattan, which is what scares the Russians into aggression, and, more so as the movie reaches its climax, he’s the one deciding to preemptively attack Russia. That is, he’s starting a nuclear war before the Russians can, in the hopes that he can reduce the amount of America that is annihilated.

Since Snyder portrays him as the solitary, driving force toward nuclear war, it seems like Ozymandias could have saved billions of dollars and millions of lives by simply giving Nixon cancer or throwing him through a plate glass window or whatever.


According to the movie, all of the members of the super-team known as The Watchmen have superpowers.

Sure, none of them are as fantastic as Dr, Manhattan’s quantum abilities, but they’re all super-strong and super-tough. Look at the way The Comedian can put this fist through a wall, or break a counter top with his skull and only suffer some bloody gashes. Note that Ozymandias threw him through plate glass window, something the police detectives tell us is impossible for one human being to do to another, or that he’s strong enough to kick Rorshach ten feet into the air and thirty feet across the room. And that Rorschach can shake such a blow off, even though he hits a wall spine first. Even Dan and Laurie, the most “human” of these superhumans have no problem pulling human bodies apart like so many steamed lobsters at dinner.

Or do they simply all know kung-fu and achieve these superhuman feats through focusing their chi, kung-fu movie style? Because, if so, that’s kind of fucking stupid, isn’t it? Is that any worse than a giant squid? It still seems like a genre implant that a movie-going audience would reject just as hard as they’d reject the squid. It looks rather Matrix-y, only much less cool, and logical—in the Matrix movies, there was a built-in excuse for the combatants having such mad kung fu powers. Watchmen is not set in a virtual reality though.


Back to that violence, for a moment. Plenty of people, comics commentators discussing the film and film critics alike, have mentioned how violent and gory it was. Much of it fit into the story okay, for example, Dr. Manhattan vaporizing gangsters and Vietnamese or Rorshach being Rorshach. But the scene where Dan and Laurie fight off the gang of muggers? Holy shit. Did the scene need to be violent? Maybe. But did it need to be that violent and that gory? No, and the fact that it was did a great deal of damage to whatever point Snyder might have been trying to make about the nature of vigilantes.

Dan and Laurie don’t simply defend themselves, but they gleefully slaughter the bad guys, not only breaking limbs, but breaking necks and plunging knives into throats. How exactly are they any different/better than The Comedian or Rorshach? Are they not, in fact worse?

Because The Comedian at least could use war and national security as an excuse, and the guy Rorshach cuts to pieces was a child rapist/murderer who had fed a little girl—or at least her body—to some German shepherds. Doling out the death penalty to a bunch of muggers seemed a little extreme for a pair of characters who spend most of the movie shaking their head at what a violent psychopath Rorshach is.


The Dan/Laurie humping to a chorus of “Hallelujah” in the owl ship was already a pretty goofy scene without Laurie slamming her hand on to the flame-thrower button, so that Archie ejaculated flame into the night sky as they came. Whatever Snyder’s next movie is, I pray it’s not a comedy.


Ozymandias, The Smartest Man in the World, sure had an easy computer to break into. Not only was his password something that former colleagues Rorshach and Dan able to free-associate their way to in the space of a few seconds, but it was actually written on the spine of a book that Dan could see while sitting in front of the computer. This makes his corporate computer only slightly more difficult to break into than Sarah Palin’s Yahoo mail account was.


Dan’s “Nooooooooo!!!!” at the sight of Dr. M exploding Rorschach would probably be laughably melodramatic no matter how it was staged (it was one of the few times I actually smiled during the film), but the fact that Dan stood there and watched the build up without doing or saying anything made it all the worse.

Was there really any suspense about the fact that Dr. Manhattan was about to kill Rorshach? I mean, Dr. Manhattan has his hand raised, Rorshach has his mask off and is screaming “Do it!” at him. Why didn’t Dan step in with a, “No, hey, wait a minute guys, let’s talk about this?” He just stood by and then acted surprised, no shocked by the fact that the guy who said he was going to kill the other guy who was screaming "kill me" actually killed him.


I kinda wish Charlie and Donald Kaufman wrote this adaptation.


I know there's an awful lot of negativity in this post, but I should note that I didn't hate the movie or anything. I was sufficiently entertained throughout to the point that I wasn't eager to leave or wondering how much longer it could possibly go on. It failed to convince me that it needed to exist, or was worthwhile, but I didn't mind spending a Saturday afternoon and a five bucks on it.

It was no Speed Racer though.




*Oh how I envy his willpower.


**Yeah, yeah, yeah. Caleb's writing completists will recall I already linked to that review over at Blog@Newsarama.com. But it's a really well written one. I envy McCulloch's critical skills and ability with a phrase. Apparently, I am full of envy tonight


***It occurred to me that Snyder’s reverence for a work by Alan Moore and the pains he goes to take visual cues from Moore’s artist collaborator coupled with his apparent love of gore and violence would have made him a perfect choice to direct From Hell, which would easily have been the very worst Moore-to-screen adaptation, were it now for the great lengths “LXG” went to in order to be depressingly, soul-crushingly abysmal.


****After writing this, I read Dr. K’s review, and he offers an interpretation that does make a great deal of sense. I think he presents enough evidence for that interpretation that I understand how he arrived at it, but, if it was Snyder and company’s intent, I don’t think they did a very good job of making it clear. Anyway, if you haven’t, check out his review—it’s a good read, and starts off with a wonderful anecdote.

Define "redefined"


Hey remember how superheroes were one way in early 2008, and then Brian Azzarello and Lee Bermejo's Joker came out in November and suddenly superhero comics have been totally different ever since?

Okay, I'm really just being an ass. The image above is a house ad that ran in some of DC's comics this week, toting their afteratchmen.com site. The site is pretty nicely put together, and I think it's quite wise of them to employ the asking "Well, what did you like about Watchmen specifically?" tactic in making their recommendations. (It lists books in five categories: More by Alan Moore, more by best-selling authors, more for mature readers, books that "redefine" modern super heroes and books that "push the boundaries" of science fiction.)

There are some questionable choices there, and a few books that are pretty much complete trash, particularly in the superhero category.

For example, Superman: Red Son was a pretty good Elseworlds Superman story, but that's all it was. Like The Joker, I don't think it had any seismic impact in terms of people's definition of superhero comics. Batman: Hush, Batman: Broken City, Superman For All Seasons and JSA: Justice Be Done, whatever their individual virtues or vices, are pretty much just standard superhero books of the type bookshelves are full of; I'm hard-pressed to think of any way in which they might be construed to have influenced the direction of superhero comics.

And, while perhaps "trash" is a little strong, I can't imagine recommending Heroes, the comic book based on the TV show based on Watchmen, Chris Claremont comics and the plots cliches of a decades worth of superhero comics*, or Jeph Loeb's Superman/Batman or Identity Crisis to someone who told me they really dug Watchmen. Not without expecting them to hit me over the head with the recommendation after they got done reading it, anyway.

But there's so much wheat recommended among the chaff that if someone were new to comics, reading everything on these lists probably wouldn't hurt them one bit (Additionally, the books included are ones that are, for the most part, very likely to be carried by public libraries and in big box bookstores, so, depending on your personal geography, you can read most of these without actually having to buy 'em).

They forgot two of the most obvious after Watchmen books though, Alan Moore's Supreme and the original Squadron Supreme miniseries by Mark Gruenwald, John Buscema and company. Oh, wait...



*Of course, I've never managed to watch more than five consecutive minutes of any given episode of the show without becoming so bored that I turned to something more exciting, like petting a cat or pacing, so don't take my complete disinterest in comics based on a show that no one I know watches based on comics in general as an indictment of it. I didn't really like that graphic novel though.