We Can Rebuild Him: The Bionic Man #2 Review

And, as is becoming a tradition, one final quick review from last week before the comic stores open for New Comics Day…

“I know Steve Austin is going away… but I’ll never forget him.” That, as my parents are fond of reminding me, is what I said about the cancellation of The Six Million Dollar Man. They also like to remind me that I was crying and cuddling my Steve Austin action figure when I said this. I was 24 years old.

Just kidding. If you were of an age and a type to be predisposed to liking comic books in the late 1970’s, The Six Million Dollar Man was required viewing. And I know that Time / Life’s released the entire four-year run of the show on DVD, but I’ve resisted dropping the cash or looking for rips online because no matter what nostalgia I feel for the show, I know that if I watch it now, it will suck out loud. It’s one thing to nostalgically go, “Bin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin…” under your breath when you lift a heavy box. It’s quite another to sit down to watch a show where you know full well that you will see Steve Austin befriend Bigfoot, and worse: William Shatner.

And yet I’ve been picking up Dynamite Comics’ modernized adaptation of the story, The Bionic Man, written by Kevin Smith and Phil Hester and drawn by Jonathan Lau… and I am HOOKED.

Don’t misunderstand me: there is no objective reason for me to be into this comic. Smith is indulging in the worst form of decompressed storytelling, as he did in Batman: The Widening Gyre when he took six issues and 120ish pages to say “And one time? Batman peed in his pants.”

We’re two issues into The Bionic Man, and the most metal we’ve seen implanted into Steve Austin is shrapnel from the plane crash. But what Smith IS doing is treating the story of Steve Austin as a grown-up one. We see his relationship with Jamie Summers in issue one, and it is decidedly adult. I’m guessing that in Smith’s continuity, Jamie winds up needing bionics when her pelvis shatters after Steve’s first post-rebuild session of finger blasting.

We see the concept of an agency like OSI as we would see it now: a nutcutting government entity committed to doing ANYTHING to meet their mandate and protect the people from a monster, even if it means they will become a monster… or create one. It’s a relief to see Steve Austin treated as a character for adults after decades of knowing that Steve Austin not only jumped the shark before Fonzie, but he fucking HUGGED IT.

Jonathan Lau’s pencils are, well, Jonathan Lau’s pencils. I’ve not come across his work before, but what I can tell you is that the art in this book is filled with Liefeld-style crosshatching and fine lines of every face, making every character look they they’re about 1,000 years old. It’s certainly not as overly-stylized and distracting as Liefeld, but it is distracting, and since no inker is listed in the book, the responsibility falls squarely on Lau. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not enough to discard the book, and if you like 90’s style art, you’ll be right at home, but if I see even ONE pouch on Steve Austin’s red jumpsuit…

Look – this is not an objective review. I’ve got a soft spot for Steve Austin that I won’t deny, and this book pokes it dead-on. If you like one-and-dones, with quick rising action, loads of fights (Although you get one particularly violent one here) and art that doesn’t look like the ink shading was done by an epileptic, you should probably skip this book.

That said, you should RUN out any buy it if you’ve ever found yourself saying: “Steve Austin. Astronaut. A man barely alive. ‘Gentlemen? We can rebuild him. We can make him better than he was before. Better… stronger…'”

And while you’re running, don’t forget the “Bin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin-nin…” It TOTALLY makes you faster.