Coming This Week: More Iron Man, The Other Giant Man, and Poor Philip Tan

Every week I review Diamond's “New Releases” to determine what I’ll definitely be buying sight unseen, what I’m interested in enough to do a quick scan of at the LCS to see if it can win me over, and note any other items that catch my eye. Here’s a look…

Buying:

3 Story: The Secret History of the Giant Man (Dark Horse): I’m very excited to see the new Matt Kindt project. I chatted with him briefly at SDCC and Super Spy remains one of my favorite books of the last few years.

Batman & Robin #4 (DC): Philip Tan is a good artist, but he’s been placed in the unenviable position of following Frank Quitely. That’s a tough draw, dude.

Wednesday Comics #11 (DC): Aka: Paul Pope can do whatever he wants and some other stuff comes with it.

Invincible Iron Man #18 (Marvel): This is still consistently the best book Marvel is currently delivering.

Lone Ranger #18 (Dynamite Entertainment): I’m pretty sure I read that Dynamite will only be putting forthcoming arcs of Lone Ranger out when they’re done and in the can to ensure some regularity. Cool. Saddle up and let’s ride.

Considering:

Punisher #9 (Marvel): I still enjoy this book generally speaking, but the last issue or two didn’t have the zing they typically do, so it’s moved to on-the-fence status.

Noting:

Wasteland: Apocalyptic Edition HC: Volume 1 (Oni Press): Of course, this would be a sure buy had I not already picked it up at SDCC from Johnston and Mitten. You can hardly go wrong with the oversized format, ginormous page count, and tricked out special features, including all of the Ankya Ofsteen prose pieces. This book is getting better and better, can’t wait for the Volume 5 TPB collecting all of the interlude issues!

Tom Strong: Deluxe Edition HC: Book 1 (DC/Wildstorm/ABC): I think it’s great to see DC getting behind the Deluxe Edition package design and offering more books in this slick yet affordable format.

Ex Machina #45 (DC/Wildstorm): Speaking of Deluxe Editions, I’m waiting out this series in favor of that format as it now wraps up the last few issues, but I usually can’t resist giving it a scanning through at the “Lair of the Sea Donkey” (my LCS) to get the basic thrust of what’s going on.

Graphic Novel(s) of the Month

Aya: The Secrets Come Out (Drawn & Quarterly): The third installment of Marguerite Abouet and Clement Oubrerie’s autobiographically inspired look at 1970’s Cote d’Ivoire is just as strong in execution as the previous two, but ably tackles more intricate plot developments. While Aya does address complex issues as diverse as arranged marriages, the dynamics of polygamous relationships, closeted homosexuality, classic male female power struggles, the hidden power of the matriarch balanced against the superficial power of the patriarch, jealousy, secret mistresses, and the impact of cheating on the nuclear family, it’s not actually about focus on these singular events per se. What Aya does remarkably well as a narrative is shift our focus onto the broad sweep of cultural life in the Ivory Coast during this time period. Of course, there are some specific human reactions that are tragically universal, such as Aya’s mom blaming the existence of her husband’s mistress on her own actions: “It’s my fault, I’ve let myself go these past years…” But for the most part, it defies the expectations most audiences would possess based on topical media coverage of Africa as a whole. Thanks to the creators, we find a nation not marred by tribal warfare or disastrous famine, but a strong and unified sense of community in the culture, as evidenced by the town’s hysteria and all encompassing involvement in the Miss Yopougon Contest. The secrets do indeed come out in this installment. As the book lives up to its subtitle, we see the generation gap so common in so many societies. The kids are testing their traditions and customs, while the parents’ tolerance for the progressive is equally put under duress. This creates wonderful storytelling tension, as each successive generation seeks to express themselves, but attempt doing so in a language of mores and norms foreign to their elders. This is an utterly human experience and the beautifully exasperated emotions that quickly move Abouet’s tale along are punctuated by Oubrerie’s full page shots that brilliantly capture these isolated moments in time. They also function as intuitive chapter breaks that change sets or story threads effortlessly. Oubrerie’s thin anemic lines underscore the frailty of the tenuous living arrangements, lives, deaths, and relationships; the very existence of these people seems to hang by a thread as thin as the pencil lines used to illustrate them. In that respect, Aya is adventurous but also unsettling. This series of books (thankfully already up to volume five in France) documents these perfectly detailed snapshots of culture in a specific period, yet provides themes that are timeless, identifiable, and inviting to any readership. Grade A+.

3 Story: The Secret History of the Giant Man (Dark Horse): Matt Kindt has slowly and surreptitiously crept up to be one of the best visual storytellers working in the medium today. If you compare his early Pistolwhip work to this piece, it’s evident there was a turning point somewhere between 2 Sisters and Super Spy. Instead of the stark clean lines found in the former, the latter works bear fully rendered watercolors and more fully bodied figure work, with particular detail in the faces and surroundings. Each page functions not only as part of the larger whole, doing its part to relay the overarching story, but are also capable of standing on their own as fascinating miniature masterpieces in their own right. It’s amazing to see so much story being told in one single static image. The best example of this is probably found on pages 9 to 11, as Kindt plays with time to emphasize meaning. Despite all of the panels occupying the same overall volume of space, he’s able to slow down and speed up time with their subtle design variations, placement of text, and the quantity of text contained. Page 13 is a virtual Easter egg hunt, with “Cheval Noir” (aka: Dark Horse) not jutting out awkwardly, but being subtly embedded in war torn France, like an old Cinzano sign one might see in an outdoor café in a period piece of Italy. Kindt’s artistic choices are crafty, but not simply for the sake of themselves, always appearing in service to the story. Examine the bullet wound on page 17 or the magnificent illustrated footnotes on page 14. The story beats on page 19 are managed particularly well, pausing themselves for dramatic effect when appropriate. Kindt’s art is so well conceived and in unison with his narrative, like the basic idea of the size of the growing boy actually attempting to compensate physically in some way for the emotional loss and void that his mom experiences when his dad leaves. Another example is his girlfriend’s construction of architectural miniatures. Jo appears to be psychologically trying to find a way to command her own reality in the way that Craig does with his relative size. Craig seems to be happiest when the world comes together to build him a house, a place to finally belong and literally fit in, so that he doesn’t have to perpetually try and fit into the world. His role with society is happily reversed for a time. Jo initially seems to understand that his overseas CIA tour is one of the only times he doesn’t really feel useless. His one secret is being a spy; it’s the only thing he’s able to keep from the world, an entire reality that knows of him and his story. But eventually, Jo grows resentful. As everyone is shrinking around him, Craig’s involvement in the world and interaction with even his family actually shrinks away with the size differential. He begins losing his connection to humanity, there is the typical psychosis associated with attachment disorder. Jo counters by creating her own world within a world, as she’s incapable of being seen physically by him, or felt emotionally by him, her act of infidelity is a desperate plea for attention of any kind. The destruction of the life she knew is reflected in her art pieces, she expresses her world falling apart under the eyes of her own personal god looking down on creation. It’s taken to an extreme level as Jo says “he literally grew away from us.” She and Craig can no longer communicate, as her size phases her out of his sensory experience. Functionally, if he attempted talking to her it would cause her eardrums to burst. Her voice is like a tiny mosquito buzz to him. The sound goes, the sight goes, and so go all of the feelings in their absence. It would be like you or I trying to have a relationship with a significant other the size of a single speck of dust on our lips. Kindt constructs the story formally from the alternating, but ordered, points of view of Craig’s mom, his wife, and his daughter. It’s a smart structural choice that perfectly mirrors the phases of birth, life, and death. His mother’s story is perhaps the saddest (being abandoned by both husband and son), his wife’s arguably the most tragic (beginning in love and connectedness, only to slowly slip away), and his daughter’s perhaps the most hopeful. Craig’s daughter seeks simply to understand a man she never really knew except in the lost glimpses he left in the world. In that way, she’s no different than any one of us trying to understand our parents merely by the objects and impressions they leave behind on the world long after they’re gone. Grade A+.

My 13 Favorite Things of 2009: Honorable Mentions (Part 14 of 17)

Driven by Lemons (AdHouse Books): If only it were a bit more accessible, like its great forerunner Skyscrapers of the Midwest.

3 Story: The Secret History of the Giant Man (Dark Horse): Recently selected as a Graphic Novel of the Month, this continues the sweep of Matt Kindt’s outstanding body of work. Bottom line, pretty frickin’ good, but not quite the intricate achievements that I felt 2 Sisters or especially the superb Super Spy were.

I Am Legion (DDP/Humanoids): After an abortive attempt by DC/Humanoids, DDP/Humanoids cranks out the full story of Nazi Germany’s fetish fascination with the occult, specifically concerning the Romanian “Strigoi,” or vampire. The narrative itself was a bit of a slow burner that required concentration to digest and was heavy on the talky bits. It bounced around to different characters, sets, and genre influences, but John Cassaday’s art was strong enough to pull the audience through to the bouts of action and intrigue, focusing in on the overarching investigation and conspiracy. It won’t be remembered as one of Cassaday’s most popular books, but it is certainly one of his best.

The Lone Ranger (Dynamite Entertainment): From day one, The Lone Ranger has quietly and confidently told its story of the reimaging of the man who loses it all and his subsequent quest for justice. It reads so fast and so light, that it’s lost some buzz, you can easily gloss over it. It requires re-reading, in collected fashion, to truly appreciate how well it’s executed. It’s one of the best examples of a book whose narrative momentum and ultimate greatness is hampered by the floppy serialized format and would function better as a series of OGN’s.

Luna Park (DC/Vertigo): Kevin Baker’s debut work in the comic book industry remains a flawed, but deeply engaging read. It was one weird plot choice away from making it into the upper echelon, but is still recommended, particularly for fans of Danijel Zezelj and his unique style.

My 13 Favorite Things of 2009: Summary (Part 17 of 17)

My 13 Favorite Things

Wasteland (Oni Press): “Holding this brick of fiction in your hands you realize at long last that the scale and gravitas of the object delighting your senses finally tangibly reflects the scale of the immense writing talent that spawned it. Yup, big ideas belong in big books.”

Echo (Abstract Studio): “If you want to understand how to make effective comic books in every aspect of their production, watch Terry Moore a while, and look no further than Echo.”

Invincible Iron Man (Marvel): "Yeah, I think I just said that Matt Fraction is the Jamie Foxx of comic books, whatever the fuck that means.”

Scalped (DC/Vertigo): “I’ve been saying all along that I want to see this on HBO. It’s no slam against our beloved comic book medium, it’s simply a testament to the fact that Scalped is deserving of a more widespread audience, one in the millions and not the tens of thousands.”

The Hot Breath of War (Sparkplug Comics): "My personal desire to see more of his work has only emboldened with this divergent tale that disproves the artistic notion of a sophomore slump.”

A Drifting Life (Drawn & Quarterly): "Tatsumi is that rare artist who doesn’t preach a message, but invites you to consider your own thoughts about whatever subject matter he’s become fascinated and inspired by, and that process lends a timeless and enduring quality to his work.”

Northlanders (DC/Vertigo): “It is poised to redefine the genre.”

Detective Comics (DC): “This is mainstream superhero comics at its finest.”

Dark Reign: Zodiac (Marvel): “We should have all paid more attention to this quiet little coup d’etat. Because these guys? These guys are the future.”

Wednesday Comics (DC): “There were sure hits (Strange Adventures), and sure blunders (Teen Titans), and noble failures somewhere in between (Wonder Woman), but like Solo before it, the project conceptually was brilliant and should be encouraged.”

Asterios Polyp (Pantheon): “It’ll probably go down as a, if not the, book of the year when everyone’s lists are finally submitted and the larger meta-lists are tabulated.”

Aya: The Secrets Come Out (Drawn & Quarterly): “If inherent quality of craft were the true driver of fame and success, then the multi-part saga of Aya should catapult these creators to stardom, or at the very least – prolific future projects and enhanced recognition at the Eisner Awards.”

Abhay Khosla’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula: “If that doesn’t make any sense, it’s because Khosla’s writing isn’t just on another level, it’s from an entirely different dimension, and I don’t possess the critical vocabulary necessary to explain it, much less deconstruct its origins or articulate why it’s so successful in execution.”

Honorable Mentions

Driven by Lemons (AdHouse Books): “If only it were a bit more accessible, like its great forerunner Skyscrapers of the Midwest.”

3 Story: The Secret History of the Giant Man (Dark Horse): “Bottom line, pretty frickin’ good, but not quite the intricate achievements that I felt 2 Sisters or especially the superb Super Spy were.”

I Am Legion (DDP/Humanoids): “It won’t be remembered as one of Cassaday’s most popular books, but it is certainly one of his best.”

The Lone Ranger (Dynamite Entertainment): “It’s one of the best examples of a book whose narrative momentum and ultimate greatness is hampered by the floppy serialized format and would function better as a series of OGN’s.”

Luna Park (DC/Vertigo): “Kevin Baker’s debut work in the comic book industry remains a flawed, but deeply engaging read.”

Special Prize

JLA: Cry for Justice (DC): “It was so bad, it was good.”

My (Not So) Favorite Things

Sea Donkey: “If you worked for me in any of the jobs I’ve ever had and brought that same disgruntled befuddled ennui to the table, that general penchant for caca, I’d have fired you long ago.”

The X-Titles Flounder: “It’s been a slow, lazy spiral toward the drain, with occasional bursts of brilliance and beauty like Uncanny X-Men #512 with Yanick Paquette.”

Comic Foundry Goes Bust: “Oh, Comic Foundry. We’ll always have that Jonathan Lethem interview that led me back to Omega: The Unknown.”

Amazing Spider-Man #583 & All It Symbolizes: “1992 called and it wanted the lesson you were already supposed to have learned back.”

I Shouldn’t Complain, but Paul Pope…: “I suppose art takes time and that I should be thankful for the awesome Adam Strange story that largely made Wednesday Comics for me, but damn if it’s hard not to be greedy and feel like the ultimate First Second Pulp Hope c--k tease was in effect this year.”

Expectations Not Met: “There were a few titles that just didn’t live up to my hopes right out of the gate.”

Late, Stalled, Delayed, Postponed, On Hiatus: “Oh, is this book still being published?”

Warren Ellis: “By my totally subjective non-scientific personal arsebiscuit guesstimation, he only “hit” about 40% of the time.”

That, my friends, is 2009 in a nutshell according to 13 Minutes. As I write this, I’ve also just surpassed a personal web traffic milestone. 13 Minutes typically ranges anywhere from 5,000 to 7,000 hits per month, with occasional spikes from things like an Antony Johnston tweet or a link from a CBR article. This month, it was the perfect storm; the combination of people’s love of searching for lists and my end of the year “Favorite 13” posts, my conversation with Ryan Claytor about the relationship between creators and critics, a well-timed tweet from Brian Wood regarding a Northlanders review, and plenty of referral hits from Poopsheet Foundation, which all conspired to push 13 Minutes over the 10,000 hit mark for the first time ever. I thought that was a pretty cool way to end the year and wanted to take a moment to say thanks to everyone who visits. See you next year!

9.16.09 Reviews

The Lone Ranger #18 (Dynamite Entertainment): I really enjoyed the smart and quippy dialogue in this issue, like the weather metaphors for vigilante identity. The scenes between the Sheriff and our heroes reminded me of the best moments in early Commissioner Gordon scenes with Batman, that brand of uneasy trust and respect compelling the relationship forward. The Sheriff’s actions are such an excellent depiction of one’s ability to judge a person’s character. He’s quickly becoming a favorite b-character here. “I need you to know… I love you. And the boy. Very much.” Damn, we’ve been waiting like two years through uneasy flirtation and caring for that one line; what a payoff. It’s rushed, unexpected, and not perfect, but honorable, realistic, and believable. Overall, these singles always feels so damn quick. Brett Matthews is so good at trusting Sergio Cariello as an artist that his dialogue is free to be extremely minimal. That makes for a fantastic creative effort, but also makes it a lightning fast read, I always have to force myself to slow down in order to savor the images and unspoken meaning in a fleeting attempt to make it all last just a bit longer. Grade A.

Invincible Iron Man #18 (Marvel): More than ever, Fraction eschews the confines of dated continuity and syncs up his Iron Man saga with that of the hit movie. There are a lot of balls in the air here and they’re all juggled deftly. Maria Hill and Black Widow seem to be much needed chess pieces that have suddenly been taken off the board, and Tony appears to be running solo. There’s an ingenious bit of lettering from Joe Caramagna used to depict Morse Code in the most intuitive, simple, and elegant way I’ve ever seen. I like the way Maria Hill isn’t dismissed as deranged, but gets some respect from “Madame Masque,” which turns out to be a little foreshadowing of a brazen move. Larroca’s art barely carries the vestigial traces of photorealism that he began the title with. A year and a half of working his craft diligently has yielded great results and eliminated the more obvious and distracting usage; it’s been fun to watch him grow more confident and not overly reliant on a common artistic aid. The scenes with the internal politics at HAMMER reveal more about Osborn’s manipulative personality (doing his best W, due process be damned!) better than any amount of expository dialogue ever could. The fun little touches keep on coming, such as the translation of the Mark 01 suit, and the focused shot on the Stark handgun. It’s a nice bit of observational commentary that his (any) technology is capable of both abetting and hindering. I did find one small little glitch in the art when he disarms the kid. Tony is racking the slide to eject a chambered round, but his hand is covering the ejection port where it would actually eject from, kind of negating the whole process. That minor firearms training quibble aside, there’s a totally awesome twist that I didn’t even see coming, which makes me want to go back and re-read a couple issues. I can’t wait to see their next move on the Helicarrier. Grade A.

Batman & Robin #4 (DC): Look, I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. I’ve been saying all along, Philip Tan is a good artist. He uses plenty of detail, doesn’t phone in the background work, gives us a dynamic title page here, and is able to produce clear competent storytelling. But, Frank Quitely dude. Frank Quitely. He’s the other half that helped make this package magical. You can’t take a classic savory and sweet peanut butter and jelly sandwich and suddenly remove the peanut butter, substitute Nutella and expect the same results. I like Nutella, don’t get me wrong. It’s good on sourdough toast. I like watching Giada De Laurentiis cook with it (of course, who wouldn’t? I like watching her do just about anything, but that’s… wow, I’m totally digressing here). I even like Nutella and jelly sandwiches. And, it too – like the peanuts in peanut butter, is based on a nut, the hazelnut to be precise. But I’m just saying, it’s not a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and it never will be, especially if that's what you're accustomed to. Anyway, we get some visceral moves (the throat slit was particularly unexpected), coupled with a chilling bit of social networking. Dick’s doing his best imitation of Bruce’s aloof playboy detachment from Wayne Enterprises, even as he maintains the meta-illusion that Bruce isn’t really dead. Overall, I’d say this feels more like Morrison’s previous… good/intriguing/uneven run on Batman than the… great/consistent/treat that Morrison paired with Quitely on any title can deliver. It’s lost some edge, and that’s distracting. Morrison gives us his typical Easter egg mini-clues that make you want to do web research, like “riddle of the corn dollie” and the (not coincidental) use of “Oberon,” deliberately conjuring the image of the Faerie King from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but I don’t know… which Morrison is it? Is it the good Morrison, who can show bouts of strong authorial intent and coherence? Or is it bad Morrison, the drunken Scotsman standing up and shouting random strange things at DC Nation panels, who can be a little too obtuse and random for my enjoyment? Without Quitely’s disproportioned confection to occupy my focus, this dilemma rears it’s ugly head. Though I will say that Dick smacking Damian was kinda’ priceless. I guess time will tell how this Red Hood and Scarlet arc pans out. Interesting that Dick instantly recognizes the Red Hood's voice, but not Oberon’s. Hint, Hint. Grade B.

Wednesday Comics #11 (DC): Batman is beautiful as usual, but uses some jumps in logic that are really inorganic just to move the plot toward a conclusion. Grade B+. Kamandi makes me fret, did they just kill Orora? Damn. I like how Sook draws her wild red hair and those almond eyes. Grade A. Superman is, I guess, all done whining and apparently all better now. I guess he’ll go save Lois (did we ever actually see her in peril?) and that’ll be it. It’s really all been a blur. This feels like the first issue that an attempt at a story was tried. Grade C+. Deadman mentions Nanda Parbat and I feel my eyes glaze over, they dive toward the chic that looks like Darwyn Cooke drew her and momentarily flicker alive, and then it’s over. Grade C. Green Lantern employs a very clever page layout that emphasizes the manic action. Grade B+. Metamorpho is so hoary. "You forgot one element, bud. The element of surprise!" Yeah, that’s the kind of Silver Age tomfoolery that I don’t like. Grade C. Teen Titans brings its washed out, flat, lifeless colors to the party yet again. “You needed my tech to create your new Trident persona along with the psychic implant to make you believe you were someone else.” Is that lame exposition supposed to explain what’s been going on for the last ten issues? Oh wait, I forgot. I don't care. Grade D. Strange Adventures continues Paul Pope’s dominance in this endeavor, a nice use of mirroring both visually and thematically. Grade A+. Supergirl is still really pretty, but completely devoid of humor. Grade B. Metal Men has gone on long enough. Grade C. Wonder Woman gets the award for most improved, when it began I absolutely hated it. This issue is the first in which I actually was able to read it from beginning to end. I still don’t understand the story, but it “feels” fun now and is cool to look at. Grade B-. Sgt. Rock keeps doing its thing, killing some dudes, two story threads converging as it begins to close up shop. Grade B. Flash is frickin’ beautiful, it's been the most surprisingly enjoyable of the bunch. It's gone and pulled a Vanessa Williams, saving the best for last. Full of killer layouts and emotional impact. Grade A+. Demon & Catwoman has one cool visual moment where Demon spews some fire, other than that, please God, make it stop. Grade C-. Hawkman is still great fun, visually distinct, and if for no other reason than another Aquaman cameo, worth a look. Grade A. For the penultimate time, here’s our visual thingamajig;

Strange Adventures
The Flash
Kamandi
Hawkman
Batman
Green Lantern
Sgt. Rock
Supergirl
Wonder Woman
Superman
Metamorpho
Deadman
Metal Men
Demon & Catwoman
Teen Titans

That gives us our usual 27% in the top tier, 33% in the middle of the pack, and 40% in the not-as-bad-as-usual bottom tier. This week’s overall score is a bit higher than usual thanks to the usual players in the usual spots with a couple key anomalies. In particular, The Flash is continuing its upward climb and Wonder Woman decided to show up for a change and be, I don’t know, discernible. We get an overall raw score of a Grade C, with an adjustment up for format to a flat Grade B.

I also picked up;

3 Story: The Secret History of the Giant Man (Dark Horse): I can’t wait to crack open this Matt Kindt project, especially after I held it in my hands, saw that die cut cover design, and flipped through the pages.

4.18.12 Releases

After the high that last issue ended on, I’m excited to check out Prophet #24 (Image), especially considering that Farel Dalrymple is jumping on the art. He’s easily a favorite and in that special group of artists that I wish worked more so that I could enjoy their art more regularly. Manhattan Projects #2 (Image) makes it a duo from the publisher this week. I think that Secret (the other Hickman Image book going right now) might overshadow it, but it’s still got some juice. The art in Manhattan Projects is much too over-the-top in spots, but the ideas are the sort of manic sci-fi that remind me of Warren Ellis. I was pleasantly surprised to see 3 Story: Secret Files of The Giant Man (Dark Horse), a late follow up from Matt Kindt, which I’ll probably check out. And from New York, we’ve got Batman #8 (DC) marking just about the only straight superhero book the publisher is doing right at the moment, and Avengers Vs. X-Men #2 (Marvel) which (not counting the #0 issue) has been surprisingly palatable so far. Lastly, if you’re looking for something a little meatier this week, I can wholeheartedly recommend Naoki Urasawa’s “Watchmen of Japan,” with 20th Century Boys: Volume 20 (VizMedia). It’s planned to run 24 volumes and the plot is so complex you’d better start with Volume 1! What looks good to you?

Game of Thrones S4E7 “Mockingbird” [Thirteen Things]

SPOILERS AHEAD

1)   The Eyrie is still not in the opening credits!

2)   “No. Not Ser Meryn.” That’s a great scene between the Lannister boys, from their honesty about all Jaime’s done, to mutual spite for Tywin, all bouncing between small bouts of humor and a sense of dread. These Lannister boys are so entrenched in being Lannisters, and Tywin’s worldview, that it’s like they both have to hit rock bottom before their paradigms shift. I will say that I don’t like the new actor cast as The Mountain at all, he’s sort of cartoony big and simple, and doesn’t look like he could be related to The Hound as much as the old actor did.

3)   For some reason, I just really loved Arya and The Hound’s ability to be completely honest with the dying man. They’re honest about his prognosis, who Arya is, and what The Hound is doing with her. I love when the old man says “There’s no balance anymore.” No shit! Welcome to Westeros. Arya’s sense of fatalism is growing too, as is her swift skill, almost to the point you think she’s ready to fly solo. Once again, the show dupes us into rooting for her as she makes a glorious kill, and we really shouldn’t be.

4)   The Hound is also wounded. This is important. It’s one of only three moments that really push the show forward and set up things to come.

5)   “Have you ever seen a giant, Ser Alliser?” Jon is growing bolder, a man of experience rather than a man of position or titles, and you can almost sense the power dynamic shifting in his favor. There’s a moment of hesitation where the First Builder seems to want to side with him, but caves to pressure from Ser Alliser.

6)   Bronn is the ultimate sellsword. Zero Loyalty. At the end of the day, that lingering handshake is hard to watch, two men who totally get each other and can amicably part company. Tyrion respects Bronn for staying true to himself, even though Bronn doesn’t stay true to Tyrion. I like this succession of visitors to Tyrion’s cell as well, Jaime, Bronn, and Oberyn, all would-be champions with different outcomes.

7)   I like Dany’s power play. It’s SO sexy without even showing sex or a naked female. I try not to regurgitate what other writers say, but Sean T. Collins had a line about Dany staring at Daario’s exposed Naharis that I just can’t unhear now!

8)   Jorah and Dany have a really good scene, one that exhibits their complex relationship. Obviously Dany doesn’t quite reciprocate Jorah’s desires, but she also recognizes him as her most important advisor. They come to a philosophical compromise here as Dany understands that you can’t just kill everyone who disagrees with you, or eventually you’ll have nobody left to rule.

9)   HOT PIE! That was a fun surprise. This inn he works at is turning into something you’d see in Neil Gaiman’s Sandman, The Inn At The End Of The World, a dark crossroads where all pivotal events seem to touch. Podrick and Brienne make such a good team, total buddy cop drama. I say we lobby for a remake of Lethal Weapon starring these two.

10) Prince Oberyn Martell’s story of meeting infant Tyrion is one of the most touching things I’ve heard from the show, enough that even Tyrion starts to well up. It’s a testament to Tyrion’s reality, about a poor guy who has literally been despised since birth, by the people who were closest to him and supposed to care for him. “That’s not a monster. That’s just a baby.”

11) As if the episode couldn’t pull at enough heartstrings, Sansa seeing snow and getting a small taste of home. Awwwww! I gotta’ say, I like Littlefinger’s parenting style if he approves of Sansa smacking Robin Arryn. Littlefinger tries to be so smooth here, his attempt to play Sansa by suggesting that the only reason he had Joffrey killed was because he’d slighted Littlefinger’s great love, Catelyn Stark, is a thing of manipulative beauty. Littlefinger’s ultimate play here is a good one. He’s just become the de facto ruler in The Vale, and since he assumes Tyrion will soon be dead, that frees up Sansa for a betrothal and an heirship to Winterfell. Petyr probably figures he’s going to rule the entire north, from Bear Island to The Fingers.

12) The Eyrie has quickly become Dysfunction Junction. Not a healthy pairing in sight. Lysa & Robin is creepy. Sansa & Robin is creepy.  Sansa & Petyr is creepy. Peter & Lysa is creepy. Sansa & Lysa is creepy. It’s all just chaos. Well, like Petyr said, chaos is a ladder. Or a Moon Door…

13) I think the dominant theme for this episode is truth. Blunt, harsh, unexpected, honest truth, that when uttered hits like a ton of bricks. Every scene is infected with it. Tyrion is honest with Jaime about who he is, Arya and The Hound are honest with the old man, Petyr is honest with Lysa about who he loves, Dany is honest with what she wants from Daario, Oberyn’s story is all about honesty vs. perception, Brienne is honest with Hot Pie, Hit Pie is in turn honest with Brienne and Pod, Bronn is honest with Tyrion, Jorah speaks truth to power with Dany, etc., etc., etc. When it’s all about truth, titling the episode “Mockingbird” is nothing short of genius. Well, with only three episodes remaining this season, I count at least three major events that still need to occur, or shoot – maybe four depending on how soon they’re going to (re)introduce something that spins out of The Red Wedding.

10.20.10 Reviews (Part 2)

DMZ #58 (DC/Vertigo): The countdown begins: 14 issues to go. I want to state absolutely unequivocally that Riccardo Burchielli has done a tremendous job as the regular series artist, capturing the grit of life in the war torn DMZ. However, this opening shot of Manhattan in flames by Danijel Zezelj is freakin’ amazing, it’s a holocaust captured on paper. That shot immediately sticks you in time and place, drawing out uncomfortable emotion with a sort of forced escapism. It’s powerful. This issue focuses hard on everyone’s favorite street artist, Decade Later, and highlights the value of self expression and social messaging as a driving life force even when the world is crumbling around you. Brian Wood’s fine arts background and youthful punk sensibilities converge and reveal themselves here. Decade Later is, of course, a fictional character, but it’s not hard to imagine someone like Shepard Fairey bombing walls, wheat pasting murals, and cascading millions of his Obey Giant stickers all over LA in a near future Civil War on the West Coast, especially when Wood laces the narrative with mentions of real world artists like Keith Haring and Jean Michel Basquiat. In case you hadn’t noticed, I recently wrote a whole lot about Brian Wood and the arc of his career. When you encounter lines here like “This city is my home. This city is my career.” you get slapped in the face with one of the creator’s strongest themes. It’s that love of New York City that runs like a spine through most of his work. I loved seeing Zezelj do Decade Later doing his stark and emotional black and white mural in a literal one-man show. We see the artist’s life on the wall, coming up, 9-11, friends, lovers, and works of art, they too a beautiful ode to New York. It makes me wonder if Zezelj ever dabbled in street art in his native Croatia. Last, but not least, this (probably) final visitation of Decade Later is a reminder of the beauty of the “one-shot” in comics. For a writer who leans toward longer arcs in his books, he proves that the “done-in-one” can be one of the most potent outlets the medium has to offer. Grade A+.

Vertigo Resurrected #1 (DC/Vertigo): Yeah, I essentially paid $8 for a 22 page story by Warren Ellis and Phil Jimenez entitled “Shoot” that was originally pulled as a John Constantine: Hellblazer story in the wake of Columbine. Thankfully, it was largely worth it. On his web-site/blog/Internet Monkey Interface, Ellis is careful to point out that this was not really intended as any sort of grandiose social commentary, but as a work of horror. I think it actually functions well as both. It’s about children killing children for no reason at all, so it is absolutely horrific in the way it’s depicted. There’s no sensationalistic shock value, it’s played straight and subtle, the cold violence speaking for itself. The tangential recurring appearance of Constantine himself also adds a slightly mysterious quality to the work. Ellis also pointed out that he was slightly embarrassed to see how the quality of the writing would play 10 years later. For my money, only two little quibbles popped up. One, there’s an omitted word in the line “…blow [the] shit out of each other.” Two, by the end of the book, when the woman is sitting alone monologuing, it was unnerving that she’s basically talking out loud to herself. I know that thought bubbles have gone the way of the dinosaur in comics, but I would have preferred some narrative caption boxes instead of the blatant soliloquies. Jimenez’s pencils are nice, if a bit different than his current style. Here, they look a little looser and not as compact, more Mark Bagley than Carlos Pacheco, for some quick reference. The basic question the story asks is “why?” Why does seemingly random, senseless, youth violence occur? Without the “why?” part of the equation, it can’t be easily catalogued, understood, or offer any sense of closure to those closely involved. Ellis essentially answers the question of “why?” by offering something psychologists and cultural anthropologists call “The Missing Hero Complex.” Children today are not socialized in a way that allows them to feel compassion and step in to avert danger. They wait to act, because in the age of entitlement, it’s simply someone else’s job. I’ll sound like an old fuddy-duddy sitting here in my mid-30’s, but “these kids today!” are drawn to danger like they’re drawn to train wrecks and car accidents, with a morbid sense of fascination. They like to voyeuristically watch, as if it’s a harmless reality TV show that doesn’t affect them, not the real world happening, with real people, and real world consequences. With the rise of Facebook, Twitter, and so many anti-social outlets, kids are not being socially conditioned to actually physically interact with fellow human beings, much less care for their fellow man. They’re not only desensitized to violence, but de-socialized in terms of expressing compassion. Psychologically, they can’t differentiate between the shooting occurring outside their window or in their school, and the first person shooter they’re playing at home. As Ellis points out in the story, kids don’t run from violence, they merely stop and watch for entertainment, yet they won’t ever step in to lend a hand or try to avert it. This one’s an easy Grade A.

Let me buzz through the rest, which are all reprints, some I’d seen before, some I’d not. The Kapas by Brian Bolland was a story I’d originally picked up from a quarter bin in a Strange Adventures book. It’s about British adventuring meeting up with an ironic twist of horror infused fate, capturing the elitism and xenophobia of the period. And yeah, Brian Bolland could basically illustrate paint drying and I’d be interested. Grade B. Native Tongue by Brian Azzarello and Essad Ribic mines the horror notes in the same way certain episodes of The X-Files used to, with exsanguinated cattle and serial killer activity. Grade B. New Toys by Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely was a fun ride, like a twisted warfare version of Toy Story. It plays like an old episode of Twilight Zone, and you can certainly detect precursory riffs on Morrison’s Joe The Barbarian. Quitely’s art is still gorgeous, but not as sinewy or thin and elongated as his more current style. Grade A. Nosh and Barry and Eddie and Joe by Garth Ennis and Jim Lee drags on a little too long, ostensibly about military buddies on leave. It quickly turns into some kind of MK Ultra riff that misses the horror mark and relies on a government conspiracy motif. Jim Lee’s style is enjoyable, but very loose and not as polished as his work on say, Hush. This one’s a low Grade B. Diagnosis by Steven T. Seagle and Tim Sale is about compromise becoming total sacrifice of principle. The small inset circular panels certainly capture the 50’s romance aesthetic. This one was a good lesson in being conditioned by your surroundings and letting that color your perception of the world. Essentially, if you have a hammer, suddenly every problem begins to look like a nail. Grade A. The Death of a Romantic by Peter Milligan and Eduardo Risso is hard not to enjoy. Risso draws the type of women that every guy I know wants to knock boots with. Here, his art comes complete with a sort of spiritual female masturbation scene that’s depicted more tastefully than I like to imagine it. Milligan’s story moves from grounded to ethereal, beginning with the co-dependent cycle of abuse, and then getting (almost) lost in an affair with a dead virgin poet. I enjoyed the psychosis that was created, but thought it leaned a little too far into fantasy. But hey, Risso art. Grade A. It Takes a Village by Bill Willingham had a fun premise, but the punch line of the entire story was essentially a weak one-liner. It’s about a costume shop that rents out real monsters. Grade B. Resolve by Bruce Jones and Bernie Wrightson was a strong way to end. It absolutely nails the lurid sexuality and intertwined horror elements that made EC so popular back in the day, and influenced later DC books like House of Mystery and House of Secrets. Wrightson’s aesthetic is basically perfect to recapture the zombies, sexual desperation, and faint bondage overtones that are hallmarks of this type of work. Grade A. The price here seems exorbitant at first glance, I mean, it is $8 for what *feels like* a floppy, but upon closer inspection, it proves to be a good value. If a regular 22 page comic runs you $3, that means 66 pages would be $9. Yet here, we’re getting 100 pages for $8, so it’s actually a pretty good deal. Overall, I think those grades average out to something like a Grade A-.

The Ultimate Post

Ok, at the time of this writing, I’ve consumed Ultimate Comics: Hawkeye #1-4, and Ultimate Comics: Ultimates #1-6, and Ultimate Comics: X-Men #1-9. I originally thought I’d keep going and get to Ultimate Comics: Spider-Man, but as much as I’m intrigued by Pichelli’s art, I’ve just never been into Spider-Man, and the Bendis factor is honestly a detractor. That said, I thought I’d share my general observations about this whole universe thus far.

ON THE PLUS SIDE

There’s a real deliberate effort to maintain continuity in this world, unlike, say, everything else published by Marvel and DC. For example, there are scenes that are essentially duplicated in UCH and UCU showing Nick sending Clint to the SEAR on his mission, which spins out of the main book and into the mini-series. I really appreciated that level of care.

UCU feels very global in scope, Nick inside the monitor womb of a SHIELD Helicarrier felt vaguely like the old Stormwatch books where “Weatherman” Henry Bendix was controlling the entire world from a 20 x 20 room.

Hickman’s pretty good about operating his books with a solid underlying theme, here it’s essentially Science vs. Religion, with Tony’s tech and SHIELD government funded might against the Power of The Gods.

“Bold” is a good word for UCU and UCH, the proceedings are made to feel important, the lines are appropriate to match the tone, and the action feels consequential, that anything could happen, or more likely, go wrong at any given moment.

It’s not often you see Thor getting his ass kicked, and I just appreciated that type of intellectual honesty in the face of this new threat. Similarly, I enjoyed the transposing of Jamie and Brian Braddock, and the decimation of the EU Captain Britain Corps or whatever that group’s official designation was.

The dystopian elements of UCXM really grab me. There’s a very “Days of Future Past” vibe to the whole thing, with Sentinels patrolling Mutant Concentration Camps. There’s a palpable sense of dread here. With Professor X, Magneto, Scott Summers, and other big players all dead after an apocalyptic event, Captain America in hiding, Jean Grey concealing her identity, it’s as if everyone’s worst fears have already come to pass. With that out of the way, it opens up a whole new world of story possibilities. What happens next?

Kitty “Shadowcat” Pryde, with Alex “Havok” Summers a close second, is my favorite X-Man of all time, so I was pleased to see her front and center in UCXM. On top of that, initially positioning her as some type of mutant terrorist was a lot of tense fun. I could do without The Shroud guise, but it looks like that’ll fade away. Judging by the first promo cover I saw in the recent announcements (up top there), I’m glad to see that new writer Brian Wood will continue using her with his impending tenure on the title beginning in June (with #13, which obviously tickles me). The redesign of her new white costume with X arm band elicits an elegant effectiveness that calls to mind the yellow Bruce Lee style track suit that Uma Thurman rocked in the Kill Bill movies.

The use of Mutant Concentration Camps in UCXM is a great way to modernize one of the socially relevant 1960’s themes when this property was initially created. In a post-9/11 world, how do you strike the right balance between National Security and personal liberties?

I was surprised to not be annoyed by the Nick Fury and Clint Barton relationship. Nick is the strategic guy, with Clint his go-to enforcer at the tactical level. The quality of the procedural mission banter brings a level of intelligence to the espioactionthriller genre. I like that Fury is not infallible or uber-competent as he’s sometimes portrayed. You get the sense that he’s great at his job, has some tricks up his sleeve, and there’s obviously a reason he’s the man in charge, but here he’s just faced with something never seen before and is struggling to keep up in this crazy new world.

There’s lots of recontextualization going on, one of the hallmarks of contemporary art. For example, the notion of The Runaways means something totally different, like they’re setting up an idea for a new book for another writer to come along and take advantage of, which is really generous world-building in that sense.

As a fan of the old X-Factor series by Peter David and Joe Quesada, it’s always a treat to see anyone use Valerie Cooper in her government liaison role.

The villains Xorn and Zorn are pretty fun, as opposing forces of “enlightenment” and “entropy,” which is a phrase I obviously remembered, so that’s always a good sign.

Reed Richards is kind of transposed as a Doctor Doom figure here, using his incredible intelligence and ability for all the wrong reasons, but from his perspective obviously thinking he’s in the right.

The insidious nature of the government creating mutants through experimentation vs. genetic mutation brings a brand new angle to the entire mutant dilemma.

ON THE OTHER HAND

Let’s just call it what it is and point out the 800 pound gorilla in the room, the titling of this line is just silly. I mean, “Ultimate Comics: Ultimates?” C’mon, y’all can do better than that. If you really believe in the multiverse or whatever, and if the main Marvel U is established as 616, then just call this the 617 line or whatever. Marvel 617. That’s infinitely more interesting than using the same tired word you already used for another line, and I literally just thought of that as the first thing off the top of my head as I was typing this sentence. “Ultimate?” isn’t that like a played-out 90’s word? “Ultimate Comics: Ultimates?” Really? “Ultimate Comics: X-Men” after you already had “Ultimate X-Men?” Confusing. Dumb. Not Imaginative. Try Harder. Be Better.

I actually loved Spider-Woman weirdly lurking in the background and not saying anything, but she’s never really taken advantage of, that character doesn’t seem to pay off in the books I read. Maybe that’s coming?

Quicksilver’s characterization started strong in the White House scenes and quickly devolved into something I hated. Speaking of that old Peter David and Joe Quesada X-Factor run, one of my favorite singles ever is X-Factor #87, which was an infamous issue where Doc Samson came in to psychoanalyze the team following a particularly traumatic mission. For me, that was the quintessential Pietro Maximoff interpretation, a guy who is a hyper-intelligent asshole simply because he’s 100 steps ahead of everyone else operating at as snail’s pace, and is frustrated. Seeing him turn into a whelp here is off-putting and, I think, missing the point of his character.

Similarly, the interpretation of the Stryker kid is disappointing. He goes from being a very militant fanatical leading the religious zealot Purifiers to being an insufferable whelp that I compared on Twitter to the infamous Johnny Fontane in The Godfather when Vito Corleone is berating him for not being a man and bitching about his petty problems.

I actually like how the acronym SEAR rolls off the tongue, the South East Asian Republic. But, the more I think about it, the more I don’t like the vague ethnocentrism of this title one bit. DC and Marvel have always invented their own countries for nefarious purposes, from Khandaq and Quraq to Latveria and Wakanda. But the genericism of the “South East Asian Republic” is weird. It’s like how some writers kind of treat Africa as one big country. Try telling Egyptians, Ethiopians, and South Africans they’re all the same. Shit, try telling a New Yorker, a Louisianan, and a Californian that. My wife is Filipino and she doesn’t even consider herself Asian. SEAR? I mean, what country is that? What would the North East American Republic (NEAR) be? The states formerly known as New England forming their own sovereign nation? Some loose confederation of former Canadian Provinces and New England? I don’t really care what it is, just explain it so I don’t assume you’re being The Ugly American.

UCXM is a fairly dark and serious book, which I like, so the misplaced humor between Iceman and Human Torch is awful. Maybe it was a deliberate attempt to lighten the mood or remarket these two as the wise-cracking mutant buddy cop duo of the Ultimate Comics ‘verse, but for me it’s a fail. Their powers are essentially Fire and Ice, is that like Tango & Cash? Their dialogue is like a watered down attempt to emulate Bendis style banter, but falls completely flat. Hey, giant mutant assassin robots are killing your entire species and you’re basically a terrorist outlaw, so let’s make boob and Twitter jokes while we fight!

If I liked the villains for the most part, I was not a fan of how Stryker’s dad was characterized. So over-the-top evil as a parent that he might as well have been twirling his moustache and tying young female mutants down on the nearest train tracks. This was kind of ridiculous.

Stryker, The Purifiers, Nimrod Sentinels, I’ve really seen it all done before, and better, in recent various iterations of X-Force. So this was a little tired. Again, unless you’re really going to recontextualize something, why repeat what the audience has probably already seen? You’re being given carte blanche in a Whole New Universe. Be more creative, please.

Art inconsistency is weighing down most of these titles. I don’t recall the exact style in my mind’s eye now, but I remember thinking the UCH art was dynamic and detailed, so we’ll give that a pass. UCU started strong, but I remember it feeling rushed and a little wonky toward the end of that first arc. UCXM under the hands of Barberi was always a little light and cheesecake and Saturday morning cartoony for me, particularly when you consider the tone of this dystopian world. I mean, look at Storm’s enormous angularly sloping tits. I rest my case. By the end of the run I read, Medina jumps on and that was a huge improvement. His style is less affected by say, J. Scott Campbell, is cleaner visually, and has more compact detail and finish to the backgrounds, really giving you a sense of place for all the characters and action in the foreground.

Generally speaking, I don’t feel Nick Spencer was a good fit as a writer here. There was way too much TELL TELL TELL vs. showing any substantive story mechanics. In almost every issue, he spends a few pages up front recapping everything with tons of omniscient narration style exposition, seemingly taking the “every issue is someone’s first” mantra way too literally. He could have easily chopped out 2-3 pages of text per issue and front-loaded the “Previously In…” section instead, maximizing the page count real estate for some actual storytelling.

Agree? Disagree? What did you think?

11.14.12 Reviews (Part 1)

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Think Tank #4 (Image): Short version? Ready, set, go: This is the best issue of the series to date. More detail, you say? Well, it’s a wild ride from the start to the twisty-end finish and I finally figured out who Rahsan Ekedal’s art sometimes reminds me of. For me, it has a very Carla Speed McNeil vibe to it, in that it can deftly capture all of this fantastic high tech, but it’s also very Earthy and warm when it comes to human emotion. Matt Hawkins delivers a lesson in strategy vs. tactics amid the best bust-out caper in recent memory. I enjoyed the priceless “Rules of Engagement” scenarios and the fact that the book is so smart it can surprise you even when you already know going into it that the internal rules mean David Loren can outsmart and surprise you at any given moment. There are some very timely reservations embedded here about our covert drone UAV fleet and its remarkable capabilities. This issue is basically flawless, and that’s a term I rarely use. It's so smart and crisp that I found myself frantically scribbling a question in my notes: "Is Think Tank a contender for one of the best series of the year?" Only a few more weeks and you can find out when I unveil my annual list. Grade A+.

Mind MGMT #0 (Dark Horse): This is a collection of 3 webisodes that background the series, full of secret histories and so much style. The fascination with espionage and wild imagination of Matt Kindt give us things like flux houses on ley lines, with Meru investigating early mentions of the Mind MGMT organization. She’s on the trail of the Soviet “Bear,” their top agent who is pointed through the Berlin Wall at his American counterparts. The next story is a series of “perfect murders,” which interlocks with the other stories via code words. The last of the trio is about a Brazilian expedition with Sir Francis at the turn of the century. We learn clever factoids, like mind over body being the functional Fountain of Youth, as the agents Forrest Gump their way through a couple real-world historical events. One of the letters described the narrative as “Herge meets PKD,” and that’s just fine with me. This was a great issue, a mix of haunting aesthetic and background information on current events that all leads to one mysterious place… Mind MGMT. Grade A.

Saga #7 (Image): These scenes are smartly edited together, and Saga remains a very dynamically paced series, a fun world-build, and it’s good, good, good. But, something about it still bothers me. It’s perhaps smug in its ability to be good. In other words, Brian K. Vaughan knows it’s good, and maybe flaunts it a little, which is off-putting and not endearing. Anyway, I like lines like “You have no idea what I know,” and the family dynamics and refreshing acerbic female humor of Alana are all spot-on. All this happens amid an interstellar race war that echoes so many problems in our society, it’s hard not to stand up and take notice. It’s no surprise the series is resonating so well with the masses. While I did actually LOL at the slothy giant’s twig and very dangly berries, I have some mixed feelings about the art as well. Fiona Staples’ foreground figures are simply amazing. They pull you right in and engage you so much, you almost don’t notice the skimpy backgrounds. I’ve heard tell that this is some sort of intentional sci-fi aesthetic, but sometimes the backgrounds look like blurry generic shapes that the characters are green-screened in front of, and that leaves me a little cold. I like Saga a lot, yet I don’t feel it deserves *all* of the acclaim it’s getting. It’s a good series and has proven to be extremely consumable, but it’s not really high art or anything. So, if possible, I’d like to somehow issue a very contrarian Grade A-.

Great Pacific #1 (Image): The debut issue of the much-hyped Great Pacific had me squarely engaged early on and then sort of slowly lost me with a degradation in the art and scripting. Joe Harris brings what is actually a great premise full of interesting stats about the massive garbage swirl lurking in the Pacific Ocean, and it felt like some sort of distant cousin to Brian Wood’s The Massive. As time went on though, you can see the obvious influences of both Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark (not to mention the last name of one of the original X-Men), the merging of billionaire philanthropist paradigms, down to specific lines about racing in Monaco and a secret “Applied Sciences” division w/in the protagonist’s late father’s company. This is all crammed together with the enviro-apocalyptic realm in a way that violates an old filmmaking guideline, which might as well apply to comics too. “Get into scenes as late as you can, and get out as early as you can.” Great Pacific essentially does the opposite, getting in very early and taking too long to ramp up (I mean, dude isn’t even on the damn island yet, all this could have been done in half the space or in flashback), then lingering so long that it begins to telegraph its moves. For example, I knew well before I was supposed to that Chas Worthington was going to stage his own death. You can just see it coming in formulaically staged more-than-a-clue tells. Some of the science is interesting, sort of a very watered down version of what’s going on in Think Tank, with a plasma beam that makes water vapor out of oil and plastic and other hydrocarbons, yet those golf balls seem like they’re right out of Twister. Which I guess is a half-assed segue to some issues I had with the art. Martin Morazzo’s sinewy detail is interesting and 70% of the time very sharp. The rest seems too elongated in spots so that figures are distorted, and all manner of little things began to bother me. Those golf balls I mentioned, well, sitting in the bucket they have a scale that’s just way off, Alex’s hair looks ridiculously inconsistent in places, I’m not sure why two of the Maasai warriors are floating in that one panel, and why is the house wait staff all black?! It’s not the South in the 1960’s, it’s West Texas in the present day. If you’re going to rock a racial stereotype based on region, if anything, they should be Mexican or even Native-American. Grade B-.

All New X-Men #1 (Marvel): Didn’t buy this, but had a chance to read the issue. Let’s face it, Immonen’s art alone is probably worth a Grade B. It’s great. The dialogue wasn’t as bad as I was expecting; the problem for me is really in the concept and where this falls in continuity, both big and small. Last time I saw Scott Summers, he was in a SHIELD prison when his brother Alex came to visit him in Uncanny Avengers. So, I guess he’s out now? When did that happen? How? Why? There are two X-Force teams running around and NOW! this rogue group, along with whoever else I’m forgetting. There are so many fringe X-Men groups, is anyone just a regular X-Man? Not everyone can be outsiders if there’s no insiders. In a larger sense, it’s basically a time travel story, full of paradox traps that would make Doc Brown and Marty McFly seriously balk. I’m just not sure that you can get an ongoing series out of this premise. I just don’t see the need for this book to exist. How long can you really milk the basic idea of “The old X-Men meet their future selves! Ha!”? As if time-traveling alternate future reality X-Men continuity wasn’t already fucked enough. Grade B-.