They Used To Be Kind Of Light And Funny: Defenders #4 Review

Defenders #4 has almost no action. It is a team book that features the team for exactly one page. It blatantly rips off a Bill Hicks joke – and acknowledges the rip right on the same page. And yet it is one of the finest comics you will read this week – and this is a week of some good Goddamned comics.

While this issue continues the story arc established in the first three issues – the team has discovered some kind of magical construct that can grant wishes and is trying to discover its origin – it is, for all intents and purposes, a one-and-done. It is a perfect place to jump into the title, and one hell of a story with which to get acquainted. Because unlike many comic books, this issue is about something: loneliness, longing and isolation. Superhero comics, everyone!

Levity aside, this issue is a rarity in superhero comics: a truly character-driven story. Not to denigrate the genre that I love so desperately, but let’s face reality: probably half the characterizations are along the lines of any hero in a big, fun action flick – entertaining, thrilling, and about as deep as a urine sample. Sure, you get the occasional deeper character study in, say, Spider-Man, but you need to buy a lot of issues where he’s in outer space swapping insults with The Human Torch to get them (And make no mistake: I like that stuff!)… and even when you do, half the time they’re about something ridiculous, like Peter Parker negotiating with the devil. And as much as I love, say, The Punisher, I don’t read it for any insights into the human condition. I read it for insights into the human cadaver. But I’m getting off track here.

This issue focuses on three characters: the co-ed that Dr. Strange slept with in the first issue, a street magician with a little knowledge of real magic, and Dr. Strange. And each of the characters is shown as isolated; Molly the co-ed is simply lonely, making terrible choices in men that don’t stick (“Did I tell you the last guy I slept with was named ‘Strange?'”). Tyson the magician, is a misanthrope whose first and only strategy for dealing with people is cynical trickery. And then there’s the Doctor, who despite his team memberships is shown to prefer to work alone, using his manservant to enforce that isolation. Which is a strange choice for writer Matt Fraction; I can’t see how writing about lonely, isolated people would resonate with your stereotypial comics fan. But I digress.

Each of these characters is shown to want something. Molly wants to borrow a magic textbook from Strange. Tyson wants to access the Doctor’s magic library. And Dr. Strange wants to solve the mysteries of the magic wish-fulfilling machine. Again, odd choice on Fraction’s part: I can’t understand how characters who want to know more about the obscure and fantastic would hit home with your average comics fan. But let’s stay on point.

In the end, each of these characters gets exactly what they want. And as in all good wish-fulfillment stories (Think The Monkey’s Paw, or The Twilight Zone’s Time Enough At Last) and Rolling Stones songs, we see that sometimes what you want isn’t what you need. Each character gets an instant and easy fix for the things they feel are missing in their lives, which puts them on a collision course and damages everyone involved.

Yes, this comic has magic, and it has some combat, and it has superheroes. But the motivations for each character are very simple and easy to empathize with. And how those motivations lead these people to make terrible choices to Feel Better Now, and how those decisions lead to longer-term damage and alienation, are instantly and deeply relatable to any adult who’s cut corners, fucked around or dated badly based on a temporary crisis or ennui. It is stellar character writing characters that resonates, and it is unlike – and better – than anything you’ll find in a superhero comic this week.

The art by Michael Lark is a good fit for this kind of story, which on its face is a superhero tale but is rather about just regular old people, some of whom happen to have superpowers. His figures are generaly realistic to hammer home the human nature behind this story – even Red She-Hulk is drawn simply as bodybuilder big. His lines are simple and not fussy, showing simple detail without being cartoony, and he draws good facial expressions – granted, those expressions generally amount to “mopey” or “douchey”, but that’s appropriate for the story. Granted, I can’t see Lark ever getting the nod to helm an event book, but for an intimate, human drama – something I never thought I would say about Defenders, even as recently as Fraction’s first issue – it hits the spot with clean panel layouts and simple-to-follow storytelling.

I was not expecting this kind of story when I opened the book. Fraction has delivered from the first issue of Defenders, but up until now he has delivered a fairly standard team book – a thoughtful one with enough big ideas to live up to prior similar team books like NextWave, but a standard team book all the same. But this is a book that is all-too-rare in the superhero genre: one where the characters drive a simple plot, rather than vice versa. And unlike most superheroes, whom readers all-too-often can identify with only on the level of wish fulfullment fantasy, this is a book where you will see yourself, legitimately, in every one of the characters. It is affecting, and highly recommended.