BATMAN #18 — Capullo takes another well-deserved breather,
but we keep it A-list with Kubert/Hope and then Maleev on the back end. Just
like the last interlude fill-in on #12, this one’s all about Harper Row, who
everyone is so certain is just destined to be Robin, I’d say there’s no chance
of that happening. There’s a weird
disconnect between the two stories, though. I’ve been back over it and over it
and can’t figure out where she gets her nose broken. She seems fine in the last
page Kubert drew but then there on the next one by Maleev, her brother’s making
reference to getting back at the guy who broke her nose. I like the way they
once again threaded the back-up into the main feature to make it a unified
narrative, but the title reveal at the end left me a little bit cold. This one
manages to be a pretty solid Batman comic and simultaneously the issue of this
title that I’ve by far enjoyed the very least.
BEST OF WEEK BY FAR: BATMAN AND ROBIN #18 — And then these
guys. I knew it was going to happen, but the Tomasi/Gleason/Gray crew
completely nuke every other creative team’s take on the horror. Badly cut me
all up open again. I’m ready to move on to another stage of the grieving
process. The mark of how good a silent issue is might be measured in how long
it takes you to realize that there is no dialogue, how well the story lures you
into its rhythms and lulls you into a different reading experience than that to
which you are accustomed. It breathes more. There are no balloons obstructing
the art. With no words to read, the eye lingers. You stare longer. Time
dilates. The entire reading experience expands.
There are so many pristine images of heartbreak packed into
this requiem. Bruce Wayne by the fireplace, staring at the palette that will
never be slept in again. The naturalistic sketches of a young hand. Who knew he
was such an artist? The subjects he chose. The note from Connor recommending
literary classics he will never experience. The family portrait that will never
be finished. Or seen again. The pole. What can be done about that pole? All of
the violence dispensed upon all of those criminals, deserving and un-, that
cannot erase the pain, will never fill up the hole. The water that can’t wash
anything away. The fallen boy’s last testament. The grieving father holding on tightly,
clutching so closely the outfit that defined his son’s identity, the composition of this shot identical to the last page of issue #14 of this title pictured above-left, released just four months ago but now revisited at the climax. It is impossible to fully encapsulate the tragedy of Damian Wayne's death for anyone who has not lived with the character for the past six years and seen him grow from the spoiled aristocrat assassin bastard son of the Batman into a child who is wiser than both of his parents and is arguably the best Robin of all time. But the emotional punch packed in the juxtaposition of these two final pages comes as close as you possibly can.
Bravo, Peter J. Tomasi, Pat Gleason, Mick Gray, John Kalisz,
and Taylor Esposito. A finer tribute could not have been composed.
* * * * *
OZYMANDIAS #6 — This is a pretty strong finish right here.
It hadn’t occurred to me this whole time, only hit me when we saw Max Shea that
there was only one way that this could end. This one accomplished everything
that the Rorschach series didn’t, even though both were diaries, but here we
got dialed directly into the mind of one of, if not the, most important
characters in the series, and through logical linear explanation of his
motives, got a bit of new light shed on the character’s motivations that
contradicted nothing from the original. And the original additions made total
sense, down to that perfect last line. Fine work, all around.
STAR WARS #3 — These guys are still basically destroying it.
There’s not much more to say. That first double-page splash is glorious and hilarious,
given what we know, how many years before the station is going to be
operational and what an insult it is to be kicked to such a back-water forest
moon. So, Luke and Prithi are like doing it on the seven-plot lightspeed jump
home? Farm boy got game. But, I mean, it’s so apparent that she’s the mole that
there’s no way that can really be the case. I hope? The “Han Solo has a very
strong feeling he will not survive this,” caption is golden. This team seems
incapable of doing wrong at this point, and they’re still just barely cycling
up the engines.
THE MANHATTAN PROJECTS #10 — And I thought this book read
fucked up before now. Hickman is officially whack-a-do. This script has the
flavor of something written entirely between last call and sunrise in the
middle of the nights of 9/29/12 and 9/30/12 in the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas
after Morrison gave my man generous helpings of his hash cake. At least that’s
how it seems at first, but by the end of the issue, we come to realize that
everything makes perfect sense and Hickman is actually Morrison’s Joker,
existing in a perpetual state of seething hypersanity, a cauldron from which
these ideas have emerged fully formed, though it takes us months to even begin
to understand them when presented in linear serial form. As for art, this Ryan
Browne fella manages to fill some very big shoes. I mean, when I didn’t
recognize the name, I was sure sorry they couldn’t get Darrow or Adams or maybe
Quitely if he’s done with MULTIVERSITY by now, okay I’m kidding, but I really
did feel like an adulterer admiring the strong clean lines and composition on
every one of these pages. This book without Nick Pitarra is like a BATMAN AND
ROBIN title where Robin is supposed to be the main character but is actually
now dead and/or imaginary. Rough week.
FANTASTIC FOUR #005 — Some kind of perfection that SXSW held
me back from reading this issue with Caesar until just after midnight on the
Ides. Felt like a really big win when I realized. Fraction creates just a hell
of a jawdropping page-turn cliffhanger when he has the Emperor of Rome on the
morn of his own assassination quoting the play bearing his name that
Shakespeare will write in sixteen centuries’ time. Am always going to remember
that one. And what a cool way to introduce a character who’s apparently going
to stir up some ripples over in the other book. Still really digging on this
ride.
UNCANNY X-MEN #003 — Bendis’s pupil-dilating reign on
Marvel’s Merry Mutants continues unabated. Can he be stopped? This one is
actually really really good, in exactly the way that I was bitching last week
about the crowded Avengers and X-Men ensemble not getting enough character
beats, Bendis really knocks it out here. And a fantastic first-page flashback
that sets the perfect tone. Can Bachalo please please be drawing the next issue,
too?
AGE OF ULTRON #002 — In the hands of anyone other than this
art team, that Spider-Man Manhattan Armageddon business might have felt like
exposition, but with them is nothing less than heart-stopping, made me feel
like a kid getting blown all widescreen open on AUTHORITY back when again.
Otherwise, we’re still really just barely cycling up here, feels like Bendis
throws it way back into second gear with all these street-level heroes taking
up the whole issue. And the page turn before the cliffhanger made me laugh, “Oh
oh, this week, boys and girls, Captain America’s going to stand up and say
something badass!” At least it wasn’t just a splash-page headshot of him doing
same, Mark Millar, we thank you for maintaining your ravenous autohyperbolic
distance.
WOLVERINE #001 — I was expecting quite a lot from this
creative team. I wasn't crazy about DEMON KNIGHTS, but I really love Paul
Cornell’s Luthor run on ACTION COMICS and the gone-before-its-time CAPTAIN
BRITAIN AND MI13. Anyone who doesn’t know how much destruction Alan Davis and
Mark Farmer have been kicking up these last thirty years has got thousands of
pages to catch up on. And Matt Hollingsworth has been killing it for almost as
long, going as far back as the first two years of PREACHER and early issues of
THE FILTH and but still knocking it out on an almost bi-weekly basis with
DAREDEVIL: END OF DAYS and FRACTION LOVES HAWKGUY(, BRO). The instant I heard
about this team, I knew that I would be buying my first WOLVERINE #1 since that
one John Buscema scribbled out written by a fella name of Claremont. Sure
enough, no surprise, these guys deliver a fast-paced in medias res high-stakes
adventure that immediately grabs you by the face and melts it and then you heal
up and the whole thing keeps happening all over again only this time there’s a
little possessed kid body-checking you with a stolen police car. As much love
as he gets, Alan Davis has still go to be one of the most underrated draftsmen
in the business, a storyteller of the highest caliber. Riveting high-octane
business. Only nineteen pages in, this one’s already right at home in there on
the list with DAREDEVIL and HAWKEYE for the People Who Don’t Buy Marvel But…
Dept.
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