9/5/12

ACTION COMICS #0—What begins as an entertaining enough early-days-in-Metropolis yarn takes a sharp turn when we are given the title, “The Boy Who Stole Superman’s Cape.” Morrison digs deep, strips through all the continuity and obsessive fanboy concern over what’s been retconned and what “counts” and just tells an iconic story that renders all of these things moot, what would happen if an abused boy got his hands on Superman’s cape and believed that he could do anything? Even the hardest thing in the world, standing up to his abusive father. We also get two pages of White, Lane, and Olsen that are MUCH better than any exchange featuring them since the reboot. I loved the negative space comment and what the S really stands for. But of course the centerpiece of the issue does a perfect job locking back up with the 1938 pulpier roots of the character who, before he could fly into deep space, was merely more powerful than a steaming locomotive. Ben Oliver’s painted work is a good fit for this flashback. Great ride.

ANIMAL MAN #0 & SWAMP THING #0—There’s not much reason not to continue reviewing these two together, even though Lemire and Snyder stay in their own sandboxes for just this month before all the Rotworld erupts. Even though a great deal got streamlined by the reboot last year, these boys are not afraid to drop in some legacy characters out of the sky. Or to have Arcane take them out. Both of these are basically Arcane amok across the decades, murdering avatars of the green and red right and left. The regular team stays on with Animal Man and holds the fort just fine while Kano pinch-hits for the Paquette/Rudy tag team and manages to maintain the artistic quality at the high level to which these gentlemen have caused us to grow accustomed. These issues were all well and good and grisly and horrible, but I’m ready to jump back to the main narrative. Bring on the Rotworld.

BEST OF WEEK: SILK SPECTRE #3—This continues to blow every other one of these minis out of the water with Amanda Conner turning in career-best work augmented by Paul Mounts’s achingly beautiful colors. This is certainly one of the best-looking books on the stands, no problem, but what makes it stand head and shoulders above the rest is how engaging the narrative is, the extent to which it manages to draw the reader in and make us totally invested in what amounts to a Year One arc for good ol’ Laurel Jane Juspeczyk a full nineteen years before we meet her as the chain-smoking jaded concubine of the walking blue penis atomic bomb. One great touch here is how the layout warps to accommodate the acid tip, the familiar nine-panel grid twisting and spiraling into the center of the page to reflect all the lysergic crazy. We close with another beat so perfect, it’s like they channeled it, the root of Laurie’s first heartbreak as a result of her parents’ behind-the-scenes machinations along with a pre-WATCHMEN Easter Egg that might have some folks groaning, though I thought it was absolutely perfect in a way that no one else has as yet been able to manage, finally accomplishing the opposite effect we got from looking at the snapshot Minutemen team photo in the first issue of the original series, a kind of reverse nostalgia here where we see something unfolding in the present tense in 1966 but already know how it’s going to turn out, I mean, it’s the most iconic image of the series. And this is its secret origin and it’s perfect.

THE BOYS #70—Nothing but all kinds of escalation here, which, I guess there’s certainly no place left to take it. This is so so good, pitch-perfect and completely true to the characters that Ennis has spent almost six years dialing us right into. No cackling maniacal world-dominating madmen here. I really can’t imagine how the good guys are going to win this one. Not that they will. This is Ennis. This is one of the most compelling portrayals of an antagonist I’ve ever seen, right up there with the greats, Kirby’s Dr. Doom and Darkseid, Claremont’s Magneto. Two more to go.

HAWKEYE #2—Wow, this issue was better than the first, which I was wild for. I hope old “Crystal Clear” Wacker has just a hell of a fill-in artistic team lined up or has convinced Marvel to improbably suspend monthly publication and just hang out until Aja/Hollingsworth can produce pages at their own pace because, lawdy, are they worth it. The first page alone here is a callback/homage to Steranko in all the right ways and then we’re suddenly thrown into the new dynamic of Kate Bishop as sidekick, a pair of Hawkeyes. And then there’s the perfect time-dilation trick on Page Three, where the act of Clint taking aim stretches Kate’s words out into fourteen panels and her mouth is even making the perfect angle, letter by letter. And wow, a newspaper article with actual text instead of the old standby “kdsjf asdkjf;dj mnddf.” The French/Italian dialogue caption for Ringmaster is a thing of joy. And then the caper ensues and erupts. This is hi-toned streamlined comic book goodness, right here, nothing less than a rollicking good ride starring the best archers in the good old 616, who just happen to have explosive chemistry, I mean, every single exchange between them is pure gold, there are somehow five or six of those sandwiched into the twenty pages alongside all of the jumping and shooting and diving and punching and blinding-bad-guys-for-the-rest-of-their-lives-with-trickshot-arrows. Grim, yes, but also terrific terrific fun. After only two issues, this one’s already on the short list of Marvel books that I can’t live without, with only Waid DD and Hickman FF for company. Gives me hope for Fraction hopping onboard FF, though of course, what a nightmare act to have to follow. If Amanda Conner wasn’t just slaying it, this would be Best of Week and will surely take it for #3. As long as Aja can hold on, fingers crossed.

FASHION BEAST #1—Just when you thought Alan Moore was done with singles, we get an announcement for 48 pages of new LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN goodness next February and this story finally sees the light of day. Originally commissioned by Sex Pistols founder Malcolm McLaren in the 80s, Moore’s screenplay for an update of Beauty & the Beast finds new life in this ten-issue series from Avatar, adapted by Antony Johnston and illustrated by Fecundo Percio. With Moore’s edits and input, apparently. It’s an intriguing affair, doesn’t just grab you and make you ravenous for more, but it certainly does have its own rhythm. We spend a full seven no-dialogue pages meeting our cast in a series of jump-cuts as they get dressed to leave the building where they all pay rent and attend The Catwalk, which is some kind of swanky nighttime debauching situation. Our hero(ine) is apparently a transvestite possibly called Doll who is the individual responsible for coat-checking, occasionally stealing away to vogue for the masses. I’m not just wild about it after this first issue but will definitely hang out and see what develops, who these other people even are. It’s not like there’s just a gang of Alan Moore singles cluttering up the rack.