EDITOR’S NOTE: Well Lois, we stand for spoilers, ruined story beats, and The American Way. Actually, those first two kind of are The American Way. Either way, you have been warned. Plus, your underpants are pink.
Action Comics #7 is, in many ways, a standard and classic Grant Morrison issue: a bunch of Big Ideas wrapped in one of the oldest ideas in the Superman mythos: fight Brainiac, and choose between his Earth and Kryptonian heritage. It is, in its own way, a perfect amalgam of what Morrison does best: turning old, hoary Silver Age story ideas that most of us laughed at during the Dark Age into something majestic and galactic in scope, all while perserving the humanity of the characters involved (It’s that last part Morrison sometimes punts on, but not here). In general, this is a good comic book.
And then there’s the fucking suit. But we’ll get to that in a minute.
Make no mistake, there is much good in this book, and as I said above, most of it has to to with the characters as opposed to the Mad Ideas, which is an area Morrison sometimes has a tendency to devalue. As much as we focus on Superman trying to save Metropolis, Morrison also spends plenty of time with Lois, Jimmy and Luthor trying to navigate a panicked city in a bottle to get answers – Lois and Jimmy because they are Kid Reporters, and Luthor in order to figure out how Brainiac screwed him over despite betraying humanity for him like a good burgeoning super-dick.
And along the way we meet some old friends, like General Lane (Who doesn’t believe in any of this and besides: he’s getting too old for this shit) and one-percenter Mr. Glenmorgan, who has apparently decided to meet impending doom with Jager Bombs and Xanax. So apparently the End of The World feels remakably like my Saturday Nights. But I digress.
My point is that we run into a lot of characters here, and Morrison doesn’t allow the plot or the situation to get in the way of how they behave. Everyone acts and speaks in a way appropriate for the character and the situation, and the interactions all ring true. I find that Morrison often allows his plots to get in the way of his characters and their motivations – Batman using a gun on Darkseid in Final Crisis, anyone? – but here he proceeds linearly and logically, and allows us to care about the characters.
And then there’s the fucking suit. But we’ll get to that in a minute.
The primary conflict in this story – Superman being forced by Brainiac to decide between Earth and Krypton – is older than even Morrison is… but there is a reason why that story is a classic. The concept of nature versus nurture is key to the Superman mythos, and has been the focus of stories for years, from the original Bottle City of Kandor stories, to Richard Donner’s Superman II, to Mark Millar’s Red Son, to here. And Morrison plays the conflict perfectly, showing Superman vascillating between infant memories of his father and admiring the spirit of the humans in Bottle Metropolis, before finally allowing Superman to make the heroic decision that he, be it pre or post reboot, would always make. Sure, it’s a story we’ve seen before, but it’s executed well and damned entertaining…
And then there’s the fucking suit. Let’s get to the fucking suit.
In the earlier issues of Action Comics, were introduced to a Superman, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, who is vastly underpowered compared to the “later” Superman we’ve seen in Justice League and Superman’s self-titled book. We were led to believe that this was because Superman was still learning how to use his powers. However, in this issue, we see Superman find his actual, true costume. Amongst Brainac’s collection. And we are told that this uniform would make him indestructible. And able to rule over even other Kryptonians “as a king among kings.”
So let’s break it down: Superman. Is given a superhero suit. By an alien visiting Earth. And that suit, it is implied, will give him superpowers. This concept seems familiar to me…
This revelation blew me out of the story like an everfucking torpedo. The concept that Superman might need a costume in order to accentuate his powers is completely foreign to the concept of the character. It adds little to the Superman mythos, and subtracts even more. While it is too early to tell Morrison’s actual intentions regarding this suit, the implication that it provides Superman with his invulnerability forced me to infer that it also gives him his ability to fly and other powers enhaced beyond what we’ve see in Action Comics until now. It diminishes the Superman myth – sure, the idea that a cape can make you fly is an attractive power fantasy… for a fucking seven-year-old. And it’s not even like Morrison is the first guy to latch onto that pre-adolescent power fantasy – the concept was explored better in the recent IDW book The Cape.
This is, in many ways, a well-executed comic book. As you can tell by my opening thoughts, there is much to recommend it. Rags Morales’s art continues to be impressive and expressive, and there’s an entertaining backup story about Steel by Sholly Fisch and Brad Walker that help cleanse the palate. But the key reveal of The Suit spoiled the entire Goddamned thing for me, like finding a Band-Aid in your McRib. It is unnecessary. It is someone fucking around with Superman because the DC reboot allows you to fuck around. And worst of all, it is a Ghost In The Machine that literally comes out of nowhere to allow Superman to battle Brainiac.
I recognize and acknowlege that I may just be indulging in Nerd Rage here, but what can I tell you? The Suit gave me a visceral feeling of anger. The Suit is a black fly in your Jager Bomb and a sugar pill in your bottle of Xanax. I advise you to proceed with all due caution with this book.