Sunday, April 08, 2007

Hoppy Easter from Hoppy The Marvel Bunny



Let's talk about Hoppy The Marvel Bunny, who is billed on his comic book as the "World's Mightiest Bunny."

It's true enough, of course, and it makes for a good boast, at least until you stop and think about it. He's still a bunny, after all.

Like, I might be the "World's Mightiest Guy Named J. Caleb Mozzocco," but that doesn't mean most 13-year-old girls couldn't defeat me in a round of arm-wrestling, a bench-pressing contest or hand-to-hand combat.

Of course, if you're a super-powered rabbit, there are worse ways to describe your physical prowess than "World's Mightiest Bunny!"



You could always go with "World's Mightiest Cottontail!"

I love all these old Hoppy covers, and would love to read the contents, although I doubt there's much chance of a Hoppy The Marvel Bunny Archive Edition in the near future. It's not just that I think animal versions of human superheroes are inherently interesting (although I did by that recent abominable JMS-written Spider-Ham special), but the artwork looks fantastic, and well, Hoppy just looks like such a total maniac, with his huge glassy-eyes and fixed, open-mouthed grin, that I'd really like to see just how insane his adventures are.

Heck, even the thugs he fights look like lunatics. Check out that giraffe firing on him in the cover above. The giraffe doesn't show any of the anger, fear or general consternation that you can read on the faces of the thugs that fire bullets at Superman or Captain Marvel. In fact, the giraffe seems to be just as overjoyed to find a bullet-proof bunny and be firing at it as Hoppy is to be bullet-proof and getting fired upon. Plus, there's this...



Thrill-chuckling! You don't see many comic books that promise honest-to-God thrill-chuckling inside.

Now, what the heck is "thrill-chuckling," and is it a good thing to have in a comic book?

Well, I'm sure it must be, since it's contained in a comic book about a barrel-chested rabbit who dresses like Captain Marvel and who battle joyous giraffes. As regular EDILW readers have probably noticed by now, I love Captain Marvel and his family of suporting characters and antagonists. It's always bugged me when people dismiss Captain Marvel as a Superman knock-off (which also describes ever single superhero from Batman on) or as too silly and childish for today's more sophisticated comics medium (with "sophisticated" usually meaning darker and more violent rather than, um, actually sophisticated).

I suppose that elements like an evil worm in coke-bottle glasses and a rabbit version of himself are among the things that Marvel haters have in mind when they say Cap's just too darn childish and retro, but, personally, I don't see them as any more ridiculous than, say, an evil imp in a bowler hat or a dog version of Superman. And that caped strongman has three ongoing titles, a JLA membership card and a team-up title with Batman.

Besides, it's not like Hoppy the Marvel Bunny existed in the same fictional universe as Captain Marvel—He lived in Funny Animal Land, which is either another planet or another dimension/Earth from the one Captain Marvel lived on, depending on what point of history we're talking about (At some points, Hoppy could read Captain Marvel comics). Hoppy was created in 1942 in Funny Animal #1 before earning his own eponymous title, where he was mild-mannered rabbit named Hoppy, who could transform into Captain Marvel Bunny by saying "Shazam!" and gaining the powers of Salamander, Hogules, Antlers, Zebreus, Abalone and Monkury (Oh come on, that's not any sillier than Winick's millions-of-Zeuses thing, is it?).





Jerry Ordway has written the only real post-Crisis, in-continuity story featuring Hoppy, in the above Power of Shazam! #29. At a birthday party, Billy Batson falls into a magician's hat, transforming into Captain Marvel as he goes down. His magic lightining is shared with one of the denizens of the funny animal land he finds himself in, however, which transforms a talking rabbit there into the Marvel bunny. After their adventure, Billy wakes up, and we're not sure if it was all a dream or not, which isn't a bad way to handle such things as diminutive interdimensional beings dressed like modern DCU superheroes.

I imagine this will probably remain the last Hoppy story for quite a while too, despite the existence of a Hoppy DC Direct action figure. While Jeff Smith would no doubt do the concept justice, I doubt he'll have time to get to Hoppy in his Monster Society of Evil miniseries (It's half over already, and he hasn't even gotten to Captain Marvel Jr yet). And given Judd Winick's mishandling of the Marvel Family on a conceptual level, I shudder to think what he might do with a funny animals superhero.

But who knows, DC has given Detective Chimp a one-shot and recently announced a new Captain Carrot series, so anything's possible, right?

In the mean time, we'll just have to settle for this tale of Superman, Captain Marvel and Hoppy the Marvel Bunny battling the evil alliance of King Kull, Mr. Mxyptlk and Mr. Mind (in an adorable little spaceship), over at Scans_Daily. I hope that makes it into a future volume of Showcase Presents: Shazam!.





Bonus rabbit strip from Scans_Daily: Green Lantern Alan Scott vs. a bunch of rabbits.







The Reason for the Season: Sorry about all the rabbits this Easter weekend. I know that, despite their ubiquity in modern American society this time of the year, they're not the real reason a lot of people celebrate the holiday. This guy is. So, in the interest of equal representation of Easter protagonists in comic books here on EDILW, here are some comic book versions of Jesus. Click to embiggen:













Friday, April 06, 2007

Dr. Sivana, Man of a Thousand Faces

You'd think a four-foot-tall bald man with huge ears, a conspicuous overbite and eyeglasses so thick they're practically opaque would would be easy to spot in a crowd. But despite his peculiar look, Captain Marvel's archnemisis Dr. Sivana has proved quite adept at concealing his identity.

Is the world's maddest scientist also a master of disguise, or is young Billy Batson and his adult alterego just really, really gullible? You be the judge!

Some of Sivana's more clever disguises:




Soda jerk!





Ticket Girl!





Captain Marvel's own aunt!





Outrageous Asian stereotype!





Eccentric professor!

(Which is, apparently, totally different than a mad scientist)

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Twelve Things That Kinda Bugged Me About Justice League of America #7



1.) The Semi-Mandatory Variant Covers: Every single issue of JLoA has featured variant covers, which seems counterintuitive to me (If Brad Meltzer is such a draw that DC thinks he’ll be bringing “civilian” readers into their universe, why set up one of the direct market’s most peculiar stumbling blocks between them and the story in the book?), but at this point, I’ve come to accept that I’ll have to put up with a Michael Turner cover each month, or, if I want to shell out $5 extra bucks my local comic shop charges for a variant, I can get a Marvel-style “iconic” image of a random Justice Leaguer posing in an image created by the likes of the incredibly talented Arthur Adams or Adam Hughes.

This issue, however, featured three variants, and, as with JLoA #1, the standard edition features one half of an image. It’s a really nice image (that's it above; you can see it better here), featuring the current League line-up drawn by regular penciller Ed Benes, with five background panels by different artists featuring characters from past line-ups. (Or for $8.25, I coulda got an image of Wonder Woman flying kicking empty space, while two dinosaurs stalked her in the background, courtesy of Michael Turner).

Sure, I could quibble about that image (J’onn and Batman should be reversed, and Plastic Man’s wearing a turtleneck for some reason), but it’s a fairly nicely composed image (particularly for Benes) which acknowledges Justice League history and some of the artists that made it great. But, like I said, each variant has half of the image, so if you want a complete cover, you have to buy two copies of the damn comic book. I like the image, but I don’t like it enough to pay and extra $2.99 to possess the other half of it. (I don’t know how many others feel this way; if a lot of people do buy two issues to get the whole cover, well, that might explain why JLoA sells over 90,000 copies a month, making it one of DC’s biggest sellers).



2.) Inconsitent “Datelines”: Okay this is a seriously small nit, but I’m going to go ahead and pick it because that is just how anal I am. It's either complain about this shit online, or disnfect all my doorknobs twice a day people.

The first page of the story opens with the words “Gotham” and “The Cave” in yellow, scroll-shaped boxes. This is to tell us where we are, apparently. (The fact that it’s a cave containing Batman and a few bats flitting about would probably clue us in that this is the Batcave, but never mind that).

But when we shift scenes to Vixen, Hawkgirl and Arsenal accepting, there’s no dateline. Why tell us where one scene is, but not these three (Additionally, while the first setting is easily recognizable to anyone who’s ever heard of Batman, where the hell is this long scene featuring Arsenal, Hal Jordan and Black Canary occurring? A house or apartment or hotel room? Whose? Does it matter? Does it matter less than what cave full of bats Batman was in?).

The scene will similarly change several times, as we check in with Vixen on a city street, Red Tornado in his house, the new JLA HQs, and with Professor Ivo and Doc Magnus and Green Arrow. About half of the setting changes have “datelines,” and half don’t.

Like I said, it’s not a terribly big deal, but I mention it for two reasons. First, JLoA has an awful lot of verbal information in boxes in its panels; much of it a touch unclear. So anywhere it can be cut back on, why not cut it back?

Secondly, one of the key components of goodness in a work of art, according to that Aristotle fellow, is consistency and uniformity within the whole toward a single purpose. This is (one minor) example of inconsistency in this book. It’s not just this one, either; 52, the other DC book I’m tremendously excited about, is very inconsistent in it’s use of datelines, and, even worse, in the point-of-view. I mention this almost every time Montoya appears, but she first-person narrates most of her scenes, while the rest of 52 is unnarrated, told from an omniscient point-of-view, as most comics with sizable casts are. In 52, it’s a huge flaw that will keep a very, very good comic from being a great one.

At the risk of getting off-topic so early in my list, comics don’t really need narration at all. It took the mainstream of the medium an awful long time to learn that lesson (Seriously, pick up any Archive, Essential or Showcase and see how often the characters explain in their thoughts to themselves what they’re doing). Obviously, they can and sometimes should have narration—it’s hard to imagine Frank Miller’s Batman without it, for example—but it’s not needed, and unless it’s adding something, it’s just a waste and a distraction.

In the comic book we're discussing at the moment, for example, you could probably tell Red Tornado is going through a kinda hard time by now in the curt way he accepts League membership and walks briskly away from his wife. Hearing Black Canary narrate that "Just because you can't fly-- --doesn't mean you're not in a cage" doesn't really make that any more clear, does it?



3.) Production Inconsistencies: And speaking of inconsistencies and unnecessary narration, the latter is a problem with Meltzer’s comics writing in general, and makes reading (and, I assume, coloring, lettering and editing) his books a bit more difficult.

For example, on page four Roy Harper has blue eyes. On page five, his mask makes his eyes appear pupil-less. On page six, he has green eyes.

Not a big deal, really. But the color-coded narration boxes, which are also sometimes color-coded dialogue boxes, when there are quotes in them (I think), can suffer similar mistakes and, thus, confuse things. The jump between page six and seven has Hal’s spoken dialogue appear in a Black Canary-colored dialogue carry-over box. When we get to the fold-out, some of Hal’s dialogue is continued from a Hal-colored box into a pure white one, and with another scene between the elipses. I’ve looked over the section of the book a few times, and I can’t tell if there were pages put in the wrong place, or if the fold-out folds out in the wrong direction, or if I just can’t figure out how to read the comic (And this is another problem from “civilians,” I think; I’m pretty much a semi-professional comic book reader, and I get totally lost reading JLoA occasionally. How difficult to read will it be if it’s one of your very first comic book?).

(Update: Below in Weekly Haul's comments section, Jason says Meltzer says some pages were out of order)



4.) Roy Harper Becomes Red Arrow: After Robin became Nightwing, the rest of the first generation of sidekicks gradually adopted new costumes and codenames, becoming not just kid versions of their mentors, but superheroes in their own right with their own codenames and powers. Donna “Wonder Girl” Troy became Troia, Garth/Aqualad became Tempest and Roy “Speedy” Harper became Arsenal, using the sharp eye he gained from years as an archer to become an expert in other projectile weapons, from firearms and crossbows to shuriken and bolos. During Devin Grayson and Rick Mays’ 1998 four-issue Arsenal miniseries, this developed into something of a superpower, in which he could make just about anything a deadly weapon, since he could throw it so accurately.

Roy, like Donna Troy, was a character that DC couldn’t seem to stop futzing with, and new directions and costumes came fast and furious over the past two decades or so. Some directions worked better than others, just as some costumes looked better than others, but Arsenal became a dependable ensemble player, from the end of Marv Wolfman’s New Titans to first Dan Jurgens’ and then Grayson’s and her successors Titans titles to Judd Winick’s The Outsiders and, less frequently, Green Arrow.


(Above: The first and worst of the Arsenal costumes. It's very...purple)

During the last seven issues of JLoA, Meltzer has done a pretty great job with Harper (he’d previously wrote a hell of Harper story in Archer’s Quest), acknowledging the “Hard-Travelling Heroes” era of Green Arrow and Green Lantern Hal Jordan’s respective careers while seemingly moving it forward.

Now, I love Roy Harper (despite having read relatively few genuinely good Harper/Arsenal stories, I find myself really liking the character), and am thrilled to see him on the JLoA, even if he seemed like the third most likely archer to join (to Meltzer’s credit however, this final chapter makes sense of why Harper would beat out former Leaguer Oliver Queen and former Leaguer Connor Hawke for a spot on the new League).

And a costume change is well past due; his Outsiders look was simply an appropriation of Ultimate Hawkeye from Marvel’s The Ultimates look, perhaps justified by the fact that Ultimate Hawkeye appropriated Harper’s “power,” but not cool nonetheless.

Even putting him in his “Red Arrow” duds would have been fine. Alex Ross first dressed him in that costume in out-of-continuity Kingdom Come, but Dan Jurgens gave Roy a similar costume during his “Then and Now” arc of Teen Titans, and he wore it right up until it was shredded in a fight during his miniseries. The Jurgens version is a nice looking costume (the Ross version featured a goatee and hat), and probably the best of all of those worn by Roy.

But why does he have to change his name to “Red Arrow” to go along with it?

Arsenal is a better name. First, it matches his “power” better (the best superheroes, Grant Morrison has said repeatedly in interviews, are those iconic ones who’s name tells you everything you need to know about them and their powers…contrast The Flash with Bishop, for example). And secondly (and more importantly), it’s not derivative of Green Arrow, allowing Harper to stand on his own better as a character and avoiding a redundancy in the DCU, which is something Dna Didio talked a lot about getting rid of around the time of Infinite Crisis (which is why the Bat-Family was whittle down and, presumably, why Kyle Rayner became Ion and Nighwing was temporarily on the theoretical chopping block…at least in Didio’s head).

But “Red Arrow” doesn’t make sense from a character standpoint, either. Roy simply says “Family business. Family name.” But why now all of a sudden? He’s the first first-generation sidekick to re-embrace his sidekick-hood in such a manner; it’s a little like Nightwing deciding to dress up in a blue Batman costume and change his name to Batwing all of a sudden.

(All of that said, it was a pretty touching scene in which Hal and Dinah offer Roy membership, and, later, when Ollie talks about trying to make up for being such a shitty mentor and father figure to Roy back in the day).




5.) “Door Slideways”: Props for trying to think of a new way for the Leaguers to get from their various homebases to their new HQ. Metlzer abandons the old transporter tubes or other forms of teleport technology for a sort of portal, which appears to be a glowing, flat energy field. Which Batman refers to with the word “door” on its first appearance. You know, like those glowing, flat energy fields that The Authority use to travel. What do they call ‘em? Oh yeah, “doors.”



6.) The “New” HQ: Seriously? The fucking Hall of Justice? Sigh. Yes, I watched Superfriends. It was my first introduction to DC superheroes, and I thought it was fucking awesome. Of course, I was in gradeschool, and that was over 25 years ago. When they re-used the design of the old Superfriends hall in the JLU cartoon I thought it was awesome, and when Joe Kelly had Manitou Raven shout “Inukchuk!” and grow giant in “The Obsidian Age,” I squealed with delight.

I’m totally down with this inside joke stuff. But let’s at least be mildly clever about it, huh? On Justice League, they at least borrowed the Hall design for a skyscraper penthouse; they didn’t just swipe it wholesale from Superfriends, name and all. (Likewise, Kelly didn’t try introducing “Apache Chief"; he just gave a Native American superhero a similar word of power).

The new League headquarters seems to have two different levels. On the ground, in Washington D.C., there’s “The Hall,” which looks almost exactly like the Hall of Justice from Superfriends . Like the news JSA headquarters over in Justice Society of America, this super-team HQ is thus based in a major U.S. city, and, also like it, this one is designed by John Stewart and will feature guided tours.

But that’s not all! By moving “slideways,” you can also access a huge satellite orbiting earth at a distance of 22,300 miles (with two smaller satellites orbiting it). This HQ looks just like the second satellite headquarters form the JLU cartoon and, of course, is a satellite, just like the one the “Satellite Era” Justice League that Meltzer is so enamored with was based in. It's even the exact number of miles "above" the earth that the old Satellite Era satellite was. This will, in the long run, create some problems with talking about the Justice League (“Satellite Era” could refer to two different eras now), and I haven’t even gotten over the loss of the words pre-Crisis and post-Crisis after the Infinite Crisis rejiggering.

From a readers’ standpoint, two things bug me about this, aside from the forced aspect of making the comic book reality conform to the memory of the writer’s first encounters with the Justice League. Firstly, the base seems a little too much like the JSA base, and secondly it’s never really explained what’s going on with this “door slideways” business. The nerd in me wants to know what kind of technology it is, what adavanced alien race it was co-opted from (Kryptoninan? Thanagarian? Martian? New Genesian?) and what super-scientist that put it together for them (Palmer’s missing and Kord’s dead; did Steel build this for them? Did Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman build it? Cause they're all scientists; even if Wonder Woman forgot how to order a cup of coffee).

From a story standpoint, however, it makes less sense than a rebuilt lunar Watchtower. Basing themselves on the moon as a first line of defense for Earth certainly reflected the last volume’s focus as a team that staves off global apocalypse, but it also put them somewhere they’d never been before and gave their enemies a target far away from civilians. Considering how often their bases get attacked, you’d think that the people of Washington D.C. wouldn’t be very eager to have the League's Hall in the same zip code, and that the Leaguers would be leery of endangering a city full of people (and the seat of the U.S. government) by being there the next time Mongul, Despero, Superboy-Prime, Kobra, the Injustice Gang, Prometheus or the Key attack them.



7.) “That’s a Dangerous Room”: Okay, so they have a training facility which Superman and Wonder Woman call “The Kitchen” because, as Wondy says, “If you can’t stand the heat…” I had not realized what an incredible lame-o Wonder Woman is until this moment, but whatever. If a holographic training facility seems to be an idea totally stolen from another best-stelling super-team book published by a rival company, the thought occurred to Meltzer as well, and he has Black Lighting say, “That’s a dangerous room.”

Get it?

But wait, there’s more! Who designed it? Why, none other than Niles Caulder, DC’s equivalent to Professor Charles Xavier (Both are wheelchair-bound eggheads who lead teams of outcast superheroes who fight to protect a society that rejects them, often from groups of villains with the words “Brotherhood,” “Evil” and “Of” in their names). It’s a clever little in-joke that acknowledges the theft and laughs it off, which is admirable. But it’s still a theft, you know? Petty theft, sure, but still.



8.) I Have No Idea What’s Up With Starro Anymore: Seriously, no idea. DC’s totally lost me. I was cool up until the Star Conquerers, but man, since then, there’s the little Starro in Son of Vulcan, the Starros in Gail Simone’s JLA: Classified arc, the little Starro’s on the spines earlier in this arc, and now a man-sized Starro, calling itself Star-Ro in this issue and, Jesus, I just can’t keep up anymore—just give me a fucking new, definitive Secret Origins and Files page on this guy, huh?



9.) The New Chairperson: Black Canary? Seriously? You’ve got master strategist, former leader of the JLI and Outsiders and all around take-charge know-it-all Batman there, and you pass him over. You’ve got born leader, tower of virtue whom everyone automatically looks to Superman there, and you pass him over. You’ve got diplomat, princess, battlefield strategist and former leader of the Justice League Wonder Woman there, and you pass her over. For whom? Black Canary?

Now, if Infinite Crisis hadn’t bumped her out as a founder of the League, she would have had that going for her, as well as the fact that she kinda sorta lead the team in JLA: Year One (also erased by Infinite Crisis…presumably; DC’s yet to answer whether Wonder Woman replaced her post-Crisis on Infinite Earths replacement or simply joined her). But if that’s out, then she’s only been a Leaguer about as long as Hal Jordan, maybe a little less, and never lead any incarnation of the team (Even Hal lead the post-Justice League Spectacular version of Justice League Europe).

But let’s think about the really shitty things that Black Canary has done while a member of the Justice League, in a story written by the same guy who’s writing this story. Let’s see, she voted to magically “clean up” Dr. Light, which resulted in his accidental magical lobotomy. Then, she allowed Zatanna and the rest of the so-called “Power Pact” to erase part of fellow Leaguer Batman’s memory. And then she kept it secret for, what, six or seven years, DCU time? Additionally, according to Geoff Johns’ stories spinning out of Identity Crisis, Black Canary also went along with her League-within-a-League’s plan to magically alter the mind of Flash villain The Top. And to magically block J’onn J’onnz’s ability to read their minds pertaining to any of the other mind-tampering.

Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman seem to have forgotten and forgiven the abuses of the “Power Pact,” and the rest of their League has been absent for much of the last year (Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, Wally West, Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, Plastic Man). I would think (hope) that a basic requirement for League membership would be that the nominee has never attempted to alter the mind and/or personality of anyone before, particularly the mind and/or personality of a fellow teammate. (And, on that score, Hawkgirl, Black Lightning and Arsenal are all better suited, ethically, to lead the Justice League than Black Canary is).



10.) The Chairs: Wait a second. Look at that meeting table on page 22. You see something missing? That’s right, the chairs are just plain old chairs. Undecorated chairs, devoid of the little symbols on the backs of the chairs like in the old Happy Harbor base, or the Watchtower. (Hell, even the JSA has super-cool patriotic easy chairs). I want chairs with little symbols for each hero on the back of them, damn it! Just like my DC Direct Pocket Heroes JLA table:


I think the Chair Test is the perfect way to determine if a hero belongs on the League or not. Do they have a little symbol or icon which can be put on the back of a silver chair around a big, round meeting table? Yes? Then they’re League material (Oh, and for the newbies: a black bolt of lighting for B.L., the old Red Tornado symbol from “Reddy’s” original look for him, Hawkman’s hawk-head symbol for Hawkgirl, a red arrow for the newly-dubbed “Red Arrow,” and a vixen head/totem symbol for Vixen). Metlzer gave us those Satellite Era plaques and a fucking engraved gavel, but no chair symbols? What the hell?



11.) Sooooo... The Other Leaguers?: Meltzer wraps up the whole Looking At Glamour Shots plotline involving the Trinity by having them accept the fact that fate through this team together. That works just fine for me, personally. It’s a rather elegant solution to basically give us the team that Brad Meltzer wants to write while having the bare minimum amount of fictional universe justification. Looking down at their choices (Nighwing, Powergirl, Firehawk, Ray Palmer, The Flash, Captain Marvel, Cyborg, Green Arrow, Hawkman, Mr. Terriffic, Aquaman and Supergirl), Superman says simply “Everyone’s reachable if we need them.”

Yes. Everyone except Ray Palmer. And Wally West. And Aquaman.

One thing that’s been bugging me all along about the relaunch is how it never really dispensed with the rest of the pre-JLoA Justice Leaguers. Where are they? Why aren’t they on the team? It's really not too hard to imagine reasons why Plastic Man, Kyle Rayner and John Stewart might not want to re-up (Plas has a son thanks to the multiversal rejiggering whom he might want to spend some time with and keep off of Dr. Light’s rape list, and maybe Kyle and John want to give the newly returned from the dead Hal some time with his old teammates).

But what about J’onn J’onnz, who has no friends or family outside of the Justice League? He’s a founder, the longest-serving member and the most likely leader. Where the hell is he? He hasn’t even been mentioned in the series yet. Do the rest of the Leaguers not like him now that he’s got that Skrull chin thing going on? Is he still going through his pissy “I hate Earthlings” post-Infinite Crisis midlife crisis phase? Did he turn them down? Can we at least get a line about why he of all heroes isn't there (Even Zatanna got a line, and she’s, like, the last person they should want hanging around after Identity Crisis).

Or how about Aquaman? At no point was anyone like, “Hey, what’s Arthur up to? Has anyone heard from him since The Spectre ground his home city into the ocean floor over a year ago? No? Oh well, let’s get that team photo taken, huh?”

I can understand Meltzer not wanting to fool around with all of this paper-shuffling; certainly Morrison didn’t, and would introduce new line-ups between issues (even his original line-up only took five issues to become perfectly solidified). But DC would at least handle this elsewhere, in Secret Files and Origins specials, for example. Like when the expanded Morrison line-up (featuring Huntress, Zauriel, Steel and the New Gods) debuted, Morrison didn’t explain it within the book, and DC had Christopher Priest write a story about the newcomers in a Secret Files and Origins special. Why not do the same for this new line-up? Considering how greatly JLoA outsells pretty much everything else DC publishes, that would seem like a wise business move. Or it could also make a fine arc for JLA: Classified, which has dissolved into a place to use up old inventory stories. Why not feature a one-shot or two-parter dealing with why J’onn J’onnz isn’t on the Justice League?

The absence of this sort of business in the JLoA #0-#7 sort of bugs me simply because eight issues were devoted to building this line-up, including a metric ton of narration and verbiage, and it’s frustrating that instead of hearing something like “Is J’onn still refusing to put the team back together?” or “Once we settle on a line-up, we have to prioritize finding Aquaman,” we get lines like “But just because you can fly-- --doesn’t mean you’re not in a cage,” and panels of things we don’t really need to see at all, like this.



12) Team Picture Day: Finally, there’s the three-page pull-out section, which I was kinda thinking would maybe feature a splash page of the new base, or maybe one of those awesome Phil Jimenz-type splashes of every Justice Leaguer ever.

You know, something like this:

(Above: As much of Jimenez’s two-page splash featuring every single Justice Leaguer ever from JLA Secret Files and Origins #1, which featured every member up until the first few arcs of Morrison, Howard Porter and John Dell’s launch of JLA, as would fit on my local public library's scanner)



Instead, what we got was a three-page fold-out of this:


(Above: A badly scanned, poorly cropped version of the too-big-for-the-scanner JLoA #7 fold-out, drawn by Benes and Sandra Hope)

Which filled me with a deep sense of embarrassment, accompanied by a vague feeling of déjà vu. Like I’d seen something similar somewhere before. It wasn’t just that a blood-flecked image of a similar League photo in a shattered frame was featured on the cover of an Identity Crisis reprint (and, later, a trade), a symbol of a more innocent time in Justice League history which Brad Meltzer seemed to be telling us never really existed.

No, that’s not what the image reminded me of.

Oh yeah, now I remember; it reminds me of this:


(Above: The 1995 St. John High School Varsity Track Team)

April 5th's Meanwhile in Las Vegas...


This week's Las Vegas Weekly column takes a closer look at two DC superhero titles that just got new directions courtesy of two popular novelists, Wonder Woman and Aquaman: Sword of Atlantis, by Jodi Picoult and Tad Williams, respectively. You can read it by clicking here.

And while I'm link-blogging, I'd also like to point out that Troy Brownfield's Shotgunreviews.com recently got a major redesign and overhaul, complete with a big, huge messageboard. Troy writes like every third article on Newsarama.com (well, not really, but it sure seems like it sometimes) and edits the weekly "Best Shots" review column, which yours truly contributes to. The new and improved Shotgunreviews.com, in addition to taking a shotgun type approach to covering everything from comics to TV to music to professional wrestling, is the Best Shots crew's new HQ. So if you're a regular 'rama reader and want to tell us how wrong we are about something and what insufferable douchebags we all are, feel free to sign up and start discussing with us. Please. We're lonely. I can actually hear the cricets on the boards sometimes.

Finally, I'd have to really, really reach to think of a way to qualify Grindhouse as a comic book movie (Um, Robert Rodriguez directed comic book movie Sin City, and a lot of castmembers from Sin City reappear in Grindhouse...?), but it is awesome. And comic books are awesome. So, if you're on this site, that means you like things that are awesome. And that means you may enjoy reading my review of Grindhouse over at Donewaiting.com, which you can do by clicking here.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Weekly Haul: April 4th

52 #48 (DC Comics)
Uh oh, it looks like it’s time to start wrapping up the Montoya vs. the Crime Worshippers storyline, and you know what that means—a metric ton of unnecessary first-person narration, recapping a large part of the Montoya thread from the past 47 issues. This issue also marks Montoya’s first use of the binary gas, making what I’ve been dreading for 48 weeks now an inescapable reality—Former Gotham City police detective Renee Montoya is now The Question II, also known as DC Legacy Character That Nobody Asked For Or Is The Least Bit Interested In #27, a character bound to be even less-successful than the not all-that-successful original hero whose name has been co-opted (see also the recently cancelled Firestorm, and the extremely low-selling Blue Beetle and Tales of the Unexpected). Pencil art comes courtesy of a seemingly rushed but still strong Darick Robertson, who gets to draw “The Question II” and Nightwing beating up a bunch of animal men to save Batwoman and stop Mannheim’s mad plot to transform Earth into Apokalypse With a K; as of the end of this issue, they’re only halfway there.

The back-up feature is the origin of the Birds of Prey, as drawn by Nicola Scott and Doug Hazlewood. Mark Waid does a decent job of recapping a rather long and troubled history, avoiding the nonsensical Batman/Oracle tiff. Scott does very nice work in the last panel; it’s downright shocking to see a superhero artist who can draw different faces and expressions these days. The biggest BoP news is that which comes in this week’s DC Nation panel, though. Fellow Columbusite Sean McKeever taking over the title from Simone? Well, alllll right!*



Avengers: The Initiative #1 (Marvel Comics) Okay, between New Avengers, Mighty Avengers, Marvel Adventures Avengers and The Ultimates 2 quarterly, we probably don’t need another Avengers title. We do, however, need another Dan Slott-written title, so I accepted this book with open arms. And I’m glad I did. Over the last few years, Slott’s developed a rep for one of Marvel’s go-to guys for funny stories (See Spider-Man/Human Torch and the consistently entertaining She-Hulk), but he’s also a very skilled crafter of stories, one with a (too rare) understanding of and love of the Marvel Universe’s whole catalogue of characters, which he often makes fantastic use of. In other words, he’s ideally suited to this series, which spins directly out of “Civil War” and deals with the army of Marvel superheroes being turned into an actual superhero army.

It’s the least ha-ha funny story from Slott I’ve read in quite a long time, but it’s very well-written, and structured as your basic basic training sort of military movie, only with new and/or younger superheroes being signed up by Pro-Reg heroes and trained. It answers quite a few of the questions raised (and never really answered) by Civil War or any of it’s many tie-ins regarding how registration works.

It features quite a few of the little-seen, book-less Marvels like Hank “Yellowjacket” Pym, War Machine, Justice and (briefly) Triathalon, plus a passel of brand-new characters, something both of the Big Two fictional universes sorely need occasional injections of.

The art is courtesy Steffano Caselli, who recently drew the Young Avengers/Runaways crossover and did some time on Devil’s Due’s G. I. Joe books, and it’s nice and loose here, with nice renderings of a lot of characters old and new. The cover is from Jim Cheung, and like this week’s Justice League of America, it’s a rather annoying half-cover, but the design works better split in half; whichever half you buy, you get half of Iron Man and a huge crowd of nobody Marvel’s behind him.




Fallen Son: The Death of Captain America #1 (Marvel)
This series is a really good idea. I remember back in the early ‘90s, when I was just inching my way into the wider DC universe from the more comfortable setting of Gotham City, I was sort of disappointed that DC didn’t do more stories about the world reaction to the death of Superman. While the Superman books focused on the reaction of Supes’ supporting cast, I woulda really liked to have read a whole comic about Batman mourning the death of his best superfriend, or another of J’onn J’onnz thinking, “Oh great, does this mean I have to catch all the meteors headed towards earth now?” So kudos to Marvel for taking their wider universe into account with this particular temporary death (Or perhaps those kudos should go specifically to J. Michael Straczynski, who gets a “From an Idea By” credit at the beginning of the issue?)

At any rate, this is the first of a miniseries assigning the five stages of grief to various Marvels, with Wolverine kicking the series off with denial. Voicing the sentiments of comics readers everywhere, Wolverine’s not buying it that Captain America is really truly dead, given the regularity of superheroes coming back to life after getting themselves killed. And he’s not going to buy it until he can smell the dead body for himself. (I know— Ew). He goes to Bucky “Winter Soldier” Barnes for help sneaking onto the SHIELD Helicarrier to ID the body, and Bucky turns him down (Prediction: Bucky will be dressed as Captain America by the time this series ends, which explains his presence here).

At the risk of spoiling the surprises (uh, spoiler warning?), he ends up recruiting Daredevil and Dr. Strange to help him, questions Crossbones and stares down Iron Man and Yellowjacket. Finis.

The story is by Jeph Loeb, and I was pleasantly surprised that there was no first-person narration, a bad habit of Loeb’s that has increasingly been used as a crutch (In Superman/Batman, he’d have both of them narrating simultaneously, which drove me absolutely bonkers). And there was really only one panel that made me absolutely cringe—Page two, panel four, when Bucky says, “Nobody would want to see what I saw. Don’t you get it? It was-- The Death of Captain America.” Jesus, that’s melodramatic.

On it’s own, it’s fairly dramatic in a superheroes-fronting-on-one-another kind of way, but it doesn’t match up very well with the events of New Avengers, recent issues of which have had almost the exact same plot (The New Avengers, including Wolverine and Dr. Strange, infiltrate the Helicarrier to get at Cap’s body, and end up face to face with Iron Man) and seems to contradict aspects of this story. At this point, I’m starting to feel like a broken record pointing out that Marvel insists on spreading storylines across multiple titles (which is fine) but doesn’t ever make them match up (which is not). Either tell stories contained in a single comic book series, or edit the comics so that the story makes sense from title to title.

Leinil Yu handles the art, and it’s almost absolutely perfect. You’d have to look really, really closely to find anything at all to complain about, really, but they’re too insignificant to even mention. I will say this, though. Dr. Strange’s astral form? It doesn’t wear the Cloak of Levitation. That’s twice now, Yu.




Detective Comics #831 (DC) Harley Quinn’s creator Paul Dini writes gets the chance to write her once again, and the result is a great done-in-one Batman story (and perhaps the greatest Harley Quinn story this side of Mad Love. Considering the frequency with which different artists work on this book, I would have preferred a Dini pal (and excellent Harley artist) like Bruce Timm or Ronnie del Carmen on art, but Don Kramer does his usual very decent job here. And Simone Bianchi sure draws the hell out of Harley, doesn’t he? Wowee zowee.





The Irredeemable Ant-Man #7 (Marvel) According to Paul O’Brien’s analysis for Publisher’s Weekly, this is Marvel’s lowest-selling title by a significant margin, and is almost certain to be cancelled soon. I for one am rather bummed to hear it, as it’s a consistently fun book with perhaps the most unique outlook of any book Marvel’s currently publishing (which may account for those sales numbers, or it could be the fact that it launched with a six-part story arc instead of a more accessible done-in-one origin; I don’t know). This issue should give it a decent shot in the arm, on account of the Mighty Avengers guest-starring. Frank Cho’s cover from Mighty Avengers #1 is cleverly recycled, with Ant-Man as drawn by regular artists Phil Hester and Ande Parks inserted. As for what these Avengers are doing in this book, Ant-Man has followed Ms. Marvel back home to use his super-shrinky powers to watch her shower (yes, he’s Marvel’s only super-voyeur) and then hitches a ride into their battle against the Mole Man’s minions, during which he has a brief battle with the Black Fox, stealing his sack of jewels after ant-punching him in the, um, jewels. If IAM does get cancelled in the near future, perhaps it will have a more successful future as a Max imprint book, given Ant-Man’s hobby.






Justice League of America #7 (DC) It’s the long-awaited conclusion of the eight-part story arc giving us a brand-new Justice League line-up (and carrying writer Brad Meltzer past the half-way point in his 13-issue run on the title). Taken as a single issue, this is pretty disappointing, from the half of a cover image I got on the one-of-three covers to the cheesy fold-out to the reveal of the “new” headquarters to the usual offenders of over-narration and grating first-name basis all the heroes are on. I say “disappointing” in part because I’ve seen Meltzer do better, and he does have some good ideas, he just communicates them rather poorly, over-writing every scene. (With a co-writer or a strong editorial hand, this would be a much better book).

I also say disappointing because I just plain love the Justice League, and I love the idea of Roy “Arsenal” Harper and Jefferson “Black Lightning” Pierce joining them, and think the concept and characters deserve better than this often embarrassing book. Ed Benes and Sandra Hope continue to be very, very good artists, but this issue really lacked the gasp factor it needed to correspond to the script (For example, Lighting seems very impressed by the trophy room, which looks like the rec room of a very rich nerd with an addiction to DC Direct replicas; Wizard has run more exciting trophy room images; and the view from the satellite is hardly something to get excited about…they had one of those 25 years ago our time, nine or ten years ago their time). We’ll nitpick this thing to death later in the week, as there’s too much to pick at in the truncated format of “Weekly Haul.”



Madman Atomic Comics #1 (Image Comics) Despite my love of Michael Allred’s artwork and storytelling sensibilities, particularly the character design that’s gone into his Madman and Atomics books, I wasn’t sure if I should pick this new series up or not until after I’ve read Madman Gargantua!, which I’m still planning my bank heist to pay for. I’ve only read Madman sporadically over the years, as it shifts publishers so often it’s not an easy book to get into from start to finish. Anyway, I opened this in the shop and saw one panel with both tentacles and Santa Claus, and that’s all it took. It’s actually a easy read, as it is essentially a recap of every previous Madman story (even the Superman crossover, thanks to a cleverly obscured “S”-shield), a sort of greatest hits collection, only with all-new panels by the incomparable team of Allred and wife/colorist Laura Allred.



Midnighter #6 (DC/WildStorm) What if The Midnighter and Apollo were ronin samurai in medieval Japan, and Apollo wasn’t as powerful as he is in The Authority? That seems to be the point of this Imaginary Story style one-issue story by Garth Ennis and frequent collaborator Glenn Fabry. I have no idea what it had to do with the last five issues or The Authority in general, but there’s a lot of people getting violently cut down by swords, so that’s kinda cool.




Omega Flight #1 (Marvel) Spinning out of their several-panel cameo in the most annoying Brian Michael Bendis-written story ever, Canadian superheroes Alpha Flight make their return to headline status in a try-out miniseries that deals with some of the fall-out of “Civil War” (as all new Marvel series seem to be doing at the moment). I’ve never read any previous iterations of the team or their title, but writer Michael Avon Oeming does a pretty decent job easing newbies into the story, introducing us to Sasquatch and Talisman while explaining the big picture situation that leads to the reformation of the team. Basically, supervillains are fleeing the U.S. in droves now that every state has it’s own superteam, and Canada’s an attractive option for the likes of, oh, the Wrecking Crew, who appear in this issue.

Tony Stark and the U.S. would like to give Canada some superheroes to help out, and thus far they’ve offered Arachne and U.S.Agent. Sasquatch is reluctant to get involved, but if he doesn’t lead the team, someone from the states will. Omega Flight doesn’t quite hit the ground running at the same pace that Mighty Avengers or the new New Avengers did, but it’s not as slow as, say, Justice League of America or the old New Avengers either. Scott Kolins’ art is as sharp as ever, if not a little sharper. But as decent as the story is and as nice as the artwork is, there’s nothing here to really separate the book from any of the other dozen or so superteam books currently available from the Big Two, and it’s certainly not as good as the best of the current pack. If you had to try only one Marvel super-team #1 this week, I’d definitely suggest you make it Slott’s Avengers.




Runaways #25 (Marvel)
You’d think co-creators Brian K. Vaughan and Adrian Alphona exiting Runaways after 36 issues (including the “first season” in addition to the re-launched, current volume of the book) would herald doom for Marvel’s best new title in forever. After all, could anyone other than BKV write this collection of teenage misfits with superpowers who speak in Whedon-esque dialogue? Well, Joss Whedon would be a good candidate and, as it turns out, that’s exactly who Marvel tapped to take over. His stay will supposedly be a short one, but thus far it’s a welcome shot in the arm. He brings the kids to NYC, where they meet two surprise guest-stars I dare not spoil (one of which is pre-spoiled by a future cover solicit, but I doubt you’ll see the other one coming), recapping their past perfectly well (this is actually a very easy jumping-on point, Buffy fans) and keeping up the character arcs BKV initiated. New penciller Michael Ryan has a style that doesn’t fit as aesthetically well as Alphona’s, but after seeing the Runaways drawn by so many other artists in the past (Mike Norton, Steffano Caselli, Skottie Young) it’s hardly a deal-killer at this point. This book seems to be in as strong as shape as it’s ever been creatively, and I imagine sales will also be on the upswing pretty soon. It’s nice to see a big-name like Whedon taking on a smaller title and group of characters that need his name more than, say, the X-Men.





Superman #661 (DC) Well this is an unexpected place to find a pretty good Wonder Woman story, but these days, you gotta take ‘em wherever you find ‘em. Lois and Clark watch Princess Diana perform at a fundraiser, then meet up with Diana Prince afterwards (I hate the secret identity thing, by the way) to talk mythology, when—Great Hera!—a cursed succubus-esque immortal captures Superman, and it’s up to our star-spangled heroine to save the days. It’s a decent done-in-one by Kurt Busiek and Richard Howell that acknowledges Wondy’s dumb-ass new direction (secret ID, execution of Max Lord, frustration with cafes of all types) without over-doing it, and focuses on the interesting relationship between Wonder Woman, Superman and Lois (probably best explored during Phil Jimenez’s run on Wonder Woman). The art is laid out by Howell and finished by Eduardo Barreto, so it’s no surprise that it’s great looking, and their Wonder Woman is a nice compromise between her current costume and her more modest Silver Age one (unlike Benes’ Wonder Woman, for example, she’s not threatening to pop out of her top, and you never find yourself wondering inappropriately about whether she shaves or waxes). Confidential to DC: Please add Busiek to the list of potential Wonder Woman writers, right below Phil Jimenez and Gail Simone, and waaay above Jodi Picoult and Allen Heinberg.




Superman/Batman #33 (DC) Woohoo! Man, you have no idea how excited I am about this issue! Not because it was great or good or even not-lame, but because it finally draws to a close the six-part epic sequel to a little-read storyline from Mark Verheiden’s brief run on one of the Superman titles, illustrated by four different pencillers. In this issue, the Blackrocks rain down on Earth, possessing Jimmy Olsen and a few others, while the World’s Finest storm the aliens’ HQ and meet a surprise villain, whom the cover to your right has been altered to hide the identity of, despite the fact that it is the only villain the two of them have ever fourth who has a big toothy grin like that and an eye in the middle of his forehead. Have I said too much? Also note that Lobo, Zook, Loose Cannon, Hawkgirl, Sparx, Nightblade, Joto/Hotspot and Argent don’t actually appear in this issue at all. The Silver Age Hawkgirl, whom I assume is simply an at mistake, does, however. Next issue brings us the Metal Men, although I’m so goddam weary of the titles Bunch of Crazy Shit Happens For Six Issues format that I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to read it.




*This good news not only because McKeever is a good writer and BoP is in need of a good shot in the arm, but because it most likely means Simone is freeing up some room on her plate for a new project. The ill-fated Wonder Woman is a prime candidate—“Simone” may lack the cache of “Picoult,” but if she can do a decent job and deliver scripts on a monthly basis, it will be an improvement over the last two writers—as is the rumored Black Canary/Green Arrow, given that Simone has written most of the Canary stories over the last few years (and all of the good ones).

Monday, April 02, 2007

Monthly manga reviews

It’s that time of the month again (Wait, that didn’t sound right). March has become April, and so here’s a roundup of all of the manga I’ve encountered in the past 30 days or so.

A couple of quick notes, first. Loyal Las Vegas Weekly readers will recognize the first two as longer versions of reviews that ran in my comics column there (so feel free to skip ‘em if you’ve already read ‘em).

And yes, I know Phoenix is super old, but I got it for a birthday present earlier in the month, so I’ve included a review here, although something tells me that anyone who’s interested in manga and the work of Osamu Tezuka has probably already read it.



Inubaka: Crazy For Dogs Vol. 1
Viz Media

Almost as if to prove there's a manga series covering every conceivable topic of interest comes Inubaka, a rom-com set in a Tokyo pet store, grafting details of dog-raising onto a story we’ve seen over and over to make it seem fresh.

I think the title literally translates into "dog-stupid," but the subtitle and references within the book make it sound more like "dog-crazy." But then, the only Japanese I know is what I've gleaned from manga and anime, so I’m hardly an expert on the subject.

Whether it's stupid or crazy, though, it would seem to apply to our 18-year-old protagonist Suguri.

She and her mutt Lupin are on their way to Tokyo when they meet handsome 26-year-old Teppei and his purebred dog at a highway rest stop. The two dogs hit it off with one another embarrassingly well, on account of their both being in heat and neither of them being fixed or spayed (Teppei was actually on his way to breed his dog with another, equally purebred one).

With their dog-driven meet-cute out of the way, Suguri ends up living at Teppei's place and working in his pet store Woofles, caring for the puppies there.

Artist Yukiya Sakuragi's storytelling is pretty standard—although there are more dog pee and dog poop jokes than most other manga, for obvious reasons—but the art is well worth a look.

Sakuragi's human characters are all abstracted and stripped down in their designs, but the dogs themselves are rendered photo-realistically, so that the cuteness of the various puppies is that of real puppies, rather than the exaggerated cartooniness usually associated with Japanese pop art.




King City Vol. 1
Tokyopop


Joe is a young spy who has just returned to King City after training to become a “Cat Master.” His partner in crime is Earthling J.J. Catingsworth III, or "Cat" for short, a very special feline that can do or become just about anything, so long as Joe gives him the right injection from the right syringe first.

Cat can gobble up a key and cough up an exact duplicate (the "copy cat" function); he can function as a periscope (though the eye-hole leaves something to be desired); or he can become a parachute, gun or stealth skateboard. He even performs autopsies (complete with written reports) and can do two crossword puzzles at the same time (his tail is, naturally, prehensile).

They're the heroes of artist Brandon Graham's magnum opus named after the city they operate in.

Joe's spy pal is Pete, who wears a Dumb Donald-like hat/mask at all times and does dirty jobs for a crime syndicate involved in the sketchy alien porn business.

Joe's ex-girlfriend is Anna, who's fond of puns and vandalism, and her current boyfriend is Max, a veteran of the Korean zombie wars who's addicted to deadly new drug chalk.

There's a story tying them all together, one which involves cannibal businessmen, ninja street gang the Owls and one seriously tough old man, but as enjoyable as all that it is, it's the little things that make Graham's urban action series so much fun.

Graham's art is of a world fusion style, drawing on manga, European sci-fi comics and graffiti art to end up as something that looks like a mix of America's Paul Pope and Britain's Jamie Hewlett. And like both of those artists, Graham is just as much a designer and dreamer as he is a comic book artist, leading to a fully realized world with inventive clothes, technology, drinks, restaurant dishes, weapons and vending machines.

Graham's city isn't a terribly realistic one. It feels exactly like a city invented by a single artist bursting with cool ideas—a secret hostel for spy gangs here, a yeti working a counter there—but there's nothing at all wrong with that. King City is a hell of a place to visit. I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend this to anyone who enjoys Scott Pilgrim, Sharknife, Peng or awesomeness in general.





Pantheon High Vol. 1: Demigods & Debutantes
Tokyopop

I wish I could say that this book is like Clash of the Titans meets Mean Girls. Not simply because that sounds like the kind of pithy declaration that’s likely to get a critic blurbed on the back of an upcoming volume, but also because I’d really like to read a long-form comic story that’s like Clash of the Titans meets Mean Girls.

Despite the promising premise—the children of gods and goddesses attending high school together—this isn’t really that book. Not that it isn’t and enjoyable read in its own right.

Of course, I’m pretty much the target audience of this book. I like comic books. I like manga-style comic art. I like mythology. And I like stupid teen comedy movies and high school TV dramas.

So writer Paul Benjamin’s and artists Steven and Megumi Cummings are certainly speaking my language here. Pantheon High, home of the Fighting Chimeras, is the school where the kids of Greek, Norse, Egyptian and Japanese gods and goddesses go to get educated in subjects like combat and “mythstory.”

Our lead characters fall rather neatly in line to Breakfast Club like types. There’s Grace, the overachieving nerdy daughter of Tyr; Aziza, the super-popular alpha female dauther of Ra; Yukio, the popular son of Japanese luck goddess Benten; and Griffin, the dark, brooding son of Hades.

Each has a power or skill of some sort inherited from their parents, as do the rest of the student body, several of which have embarked on an evil plan to steal all of the kids’ souls and add their powers to their own to become full-ichored gods or some such.

After a chapter or two introducing us to the players, the rest of the volume is devoted to the good godlings fighting the bad godlings and trying to foil their plot, which comes to involve spiked ambrosia, the school’s mascot chimera and the giant world serpent Jormungandr.

Keeping all the characters, their bloodlines, powers and alliances can be a bit tricky (I didn’t notice until too late that there are very helpful footnotes at the end), and the various character designs seem more like a Western pastiche of manga tropes than actual manga (Pantheon High is one of Tokyopop’s not-really-manga manga books).

One drawback manga-like American comics have that actual manga doesn’t is that the reader can become much less forgiving with it. For example, when I read a limp joke or tired pop culture reference in a real manga, I can usually just excuse it as something that got lost in translation; here, there’s no excuse. Same with “fan service.” Seeing Supergirl’s panties in a DC Comic always irritates me, but when I see even more uneccessarry panty shots in a manga, it never bothers me much; I just assume it’s a Japanese thing. Again, in an American manga-style comic book, it seems more exploitive simply because I can’t blame cultural differences.



(Above: A gratuitous panty shot from Pantheon High. Click on it to see a bigger version, pervert.)

This drawback seemed less and less of a drawback as I read on though, and I gradually got wrapped up in the plot and the characters, enough so that I’ll probably check Vol. 2 out.



(Above: The World Serpent is pretty bad-ass. The Cummings sure can draw giant snake monsters. Again, just click to see it in a size more befitting its girth)





Phoenix Vol. 2: A Tale of the Future
Viz Media


I always figured that Osamu Tezuka’s “god of manga” nickname was more a show of respect for his influence on his country’s comics and cartoon output and not, you know, literal. And then I read something of his, and it becomes apparent at some point that there’s nothing figurative about the title at all—Tezuka is quite literally a god.

Case in point, Phoenix, Tezuka’s late ‘60s series with a scope as as big as the universe itself. This volume alone, which is only 1/12th of the story (each volume can be read alone, but combine to tell a greater story), spans billions of years and takes as its setting the smallest parts of atoms, the cosmos itself, the human mind, an alien planet and just about everywhere in between, with the mythical phoenix our tour guide.

We open in the year 3404 A.D., a rather traditional looking vision of the future, with crowded, underground metropolises, ray guns, space colonization, flying cars and so forth. Most of life on earth has become extinct on account of nuclear wars, and the few million human beings who remain have retreated into one of five giant cities, each ruled by a computer.

When the computers lead to one more war, the fate of life on earth falls into the hands of our troubled hero Masato, who, over the millennia takes on a more familiar name. In the last third of the book or so, the story seems less like an apocalyptic cautionary tale and more like a work of staggering ambition and downright shocking subject matter. To say much more would be to risk stealing some of the power from the work.

Tezuka tends to recycle his character designs, and Masato and his rival Roc fall fairly squarely into his standard dashing young man design, and there’s also a fairly standard looking Tezuka girl and big-nosed scientist.

But even if a few of the faces look familiar—as does the general vision of the 35th Century—Tezuka proves once again that he can draw anything, first in a scene that involves a sort of futuristic Noah’s Arc of test tube-grown animals and, later, in a long sequence depicting the entire history of evolution on Earth, including a tangent into an alternate cycle of evolution involving slugs as the dominate species on earth.

And the title character, the phoenix itself, is a pretty brilliant creation, one that easily slides from an avian to a human form from panel to panel.

And then there’s this bravura sequence, which looks up at a meeting of pissed-off city officials, slowly circling around their meeting table and showing them all in low angle for several pages, until Roc is called away to the phone on this page:

(Click on the images from Phoenix for bigger versions). For several pages we’ve seen panels exactly like the first one on this page, and, as we follow Roc out of the meeting, Tezuka gradually rights the perspective, while leading readers’ eyes in a gentle spiral. Wow.



Or how about this one, showing animals abandoning the sea for dry land, with each level of panel representing a stage of evolution:






Even simpler panel arrangements contain innovatively staged images, like the top panel on this page, depicting a dinosaur. Tezuka shows us it’s incredible bulk, but he does so using only one panel, and in a rather unexpected way…






And, finally, there’s this page, showing several different animals species. The panel that really amazed me was the second panel of birds. Man, that is a lot of birds to individually draw.

Orion Will Hit You in the Head With a Car

You start shit with some superheroes, and you can expect to be hit in the head with a car.












But you start some shit with Orion, and you can expect to be hit with cars until someone stops him.

Or he runs out of cars.

Whichever comes first.


(Above sequence from Firestorm: The Nuclear Man #34, by Dwayne McDuffie, Pop Mhan, Rob Stull and Ron Randall. And yes, the rest of the issue is as good as these four panels indicate)