Cosplay: Justice League #5 Review

I think I finally have realized the reason behind the vague sense of dissatisfaction, if not downright unease, that I’ve been feeling reading Geoff Johns’s and Jim Lee’s Justice League: these characters don’t act right. At best, they act like versions of the original characters that have suffered an extended and untreated fever, or perhaps some period of natural gas-related asphyxia, or some other unknown cause of mild brain damage.

I get that these are supposed to be the members of the Justice League at the beginning of their careers, and therefore it’s probably to be expected that their personalities are somewhat different than we’re used to. Which, as ideas go, is not a bad way to go, and one that could drive many character-driven stories. Unfortunately, over the course of five issues, it’s become apparent that Johns has decided that the primary difference in character is that five years ago, the World’s Greatest Superheroes were Complete Motherfucking Idiots.

The Stoned Sword: Diablo: Sword of Justice #2 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: I couldn’t spoil the plot to this book if I tried.

With God as my witness, I didn’t know that DC’s Diablo: Sword of Justice was related to the Diablo videogame by Blizzard… and if I had, I probably wouldn’t have bought it. Comic books based on videogames are almost never any good (A few outlier exceptions aside), and a comic book based on Diablo would have an uphill battle worse than a lot of them. Hell, I’ve played Diablo and I had no idea it had a story beyond Kill, Loot, Advance… which is less a compelling story than a kickass New Year’s Resolution.

There’s not much to Diablo’s gameplay to hang a story on. Not being a sword and sorcery guy, the times I have played the game were at a buddy’s house, taking over his saved games while he was on beer runs, and it’s not like I was confused as to why I was killing giant spiders on level five just because I missed the storyline of the first five levels, wherein my pal killed 1,600 giant rats. So on that level, the Diablo comic book fails, because I missed the first issue, and now that I’ve read the second, I have no idea what the fuck is going on.

Come On, Vern. The Kids Haven’t Changed; You Have! – Review Of Generation Hope #15

Let me preface this entire review by saying: I know that it’s unconscionably wrong to hit a child. No matter how snot-nosed and entitled they may act, children are defenseless and we should not only protect them from harm, but behave as temperate role models so that they might understand how to conduct themselves in dealings with others as they make their way into the world. That being said, there is a moment in this issue where Emma Frost lays into Hope Summers with a queen bi-atch of a backhand (for being snot-nosed, entitled and mouthy – hat trick!) that will make any worn down adult with a recent weekend at the mall under hir or her belt and a fair sense of decency stand up offer writer James Asmus a hearty and heartfelt, “Well done, sir.”

Also, Hope Summers, the mutant messiah who will almost certainly become the embodiment of Earth’s next brush with the Phoenix Force, is far from defenseless. So, slap away, Emma – while you still can, anyway! Pretty soon she’s going to be able to apply her lipstick hands-free using her cleavage and level planets with a thought. God help you when she snarkily asks you if you get your wardrobe by raiding Barry Manilow’s RuPaul’s closet, then.

Generation Hope follows Hope and her team of young mutant super heroes, assembled from the first new mutants to arise on Earth since the events of M-Day decimated the Earth’s mutant population to a total of 198 remaining mutants. In their last outing, Hope and her gang of brains, athletes and basket cases round out their crew with a criminal – one Sebastian Shaw. Or is it?

Cha-cha-cha-changes…and spoilers…after the jump.

A Girl Named Ev – Review Of Birds Of Prey #5

David Finch and Richard Friend’s beautifully rendered cover of Birds Of Prey #5 isn’t the only reason to pick up this book, but it’s a damn good place to start. Yeah, it’s a little heavy on cheesecake, but, hell, Charlie’s Angels could only wish they could look this good while performing acts of badassery. Badassery is a word. I’ve decided.

The other reason you should be buying this book is Ev Crawford.

Who is Ev Crawford? That is a damn good question.

Spoilers that may or may not answer that question, after the jump.

Expendable: Green Lantern Corps #5 Review

We’re now five issues into the New 52 reboot of Green Lantern Corps, and the one thing that has become undeniably apparent is that this book has a distinct identity. Unfortunately, that identity is that it’s the book that swipes from – or to be charitable, is inspired by – other forms of entertainment. Issue 3 was lifted from a video game in hoard mode. Issue 4 looked a lot like an episode of 24. This issue’s a knockoff on Sylvester Stallone’s flick The Expendables. At this rate, issue 6 will be about a Green Lantern whose ring is positioned in the back of her throat and can only be activated by Harry Reems.

Seriously: this issue is about The Expendables of the Green Lanterns Corps: The Mean Machine. As Guy Gardner calls them, “…the toughest sons of bitches in the Corps.” They’re old soldiers, so old that after more than forty years of modern Green Lantern stories, this is the first time we’ve ever heard of them. So old they wear the traditional Green Lantern uniform of jeans, muscle shirts and leather jackets. So old they have code names like, “Lee” and “Flint” and “Bronchuk”. So old they drink heavily, and probably occasionally tip a forty for their dead homies Norrisum, Schwarzeneggerzil, and Van Damme (Van Damme being Oan for “Michael Keaton.”).

Double-O-D’s: Danger Girl: Revolver #1 Review

I’d never read Danger Girl before I picked up the first issue of the latest miniseries, Danger Girl: Revolver, because frankly, I’m not a spy story guy by nature. Keep in mind that when I was growing up, James Bond was Roger Moore; the only less effective casting choice for turning kids into spy fans would have been Jerry Lewis. Granted, my tastes have changed as I’ve grown up, but to this day if I want a good spy comic? That’s why God and Greg Rucka invented Queen & Country.

On the great continuum of spy stories, Danger Girl falls closer to Octopussy than Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. However, as an adult now, I can recognize and appreciate it for what it is: big, kitschy, goofy fun. It’s not necessarily my style of fun, but you’ll dig it if you’re looking for unlikely chases, big tits, guns, planes, stunts, big tits, explosions, big tits, and last but not least: big tits.

Action Figure: Moon Knight #9 Review

Not for nothin’ my man, but why do you want a Captain America shield?

Because it’s cool.

What are you, six years old?

That exchange between Moon Knight and his weapons procurer, Buck, describes Moon Knight #9 in a nutshell. It’s like little pre-adolescent Brian Michael Bendis trumpeted, “Y’know what would be fuckin’ cool? If Batman had Wolverine’s claws! And, and Spider-Man’s web shooters! And fuckin’ Captain America’s shield! Snikt! Thwip! Whooooosh!” Just before lil’ Brian’s mom Adderalled him into dullness. Blessed, quiet dullness.

The hell of it is, he’s right. Is is kinda fucking cool.

Y’know, provided you can forget the reasonably tight little story of a lone superhero on the edge of sanity that came before this issue and put yourself in the mindset of when you were seven, and you stuck your Luke Skywalker action figure in your G.I. Joe Skystriker jet and sent it to attack your little brother’s Castle Grayskull… or if you’re me, like you did when you were on Tuesday.

Gone Sideways: Batman #5 Review

Normally on Wednesday nights, we throw up a picture of the books we bought for the week and declare the end of broadcast for the day. This is because our local comic store is next to our local bar, and therefore by the time we get back to a computer we are normally hopelessly drunk. Tonight, however, the bar is closed for cleanup following a “human biological incident” that happened on Sunday, which is odd because I was there for hours on Sunday and can’t remember seeing anyone do anything like that. Or anything else, for that matter.

So I figured we might as well jump right in this week an do a short review of Batman #5.

This book is gonna get a lot of attention this week, for reasons that will become obvious as soon as you read it, but I’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s start with what I considered the biggest negative of this issue: it’s a Drive Batman Apeshit Crazy story. And Drive Batman Apeshit Crazy stories are pretty much a dime a dozen: Jim Starlin’s The Cult. Grant Morrison’s Arkham Asylum and, more recently, Zur En Arrh. The Jean-Paul Valley Batman / Punisher crossover… actually, that’s less a Drive Batman Apeshit Crazy story than a Batman Story that drove me Apeshit Crazy, but you get what I’m saying.

That’s Not True… That’s Impossible: Battle Scars #3 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: This final review of last week before the comic stores open contains… I’m not sure “spoilers” is the correct term… howsabout “reckless speculation?” Nah, we’ll stick with spoilers. We’re fucking OG that way.

So being an American hero runs in Battle Scars protagonist Marcus Johnson’s family, and people think his father can’t die. That conventional wisdom is that those statements mean the smart money’s on his dad being Nick Fury… but since plot credit to this book includes Matt Fraction, it really could be anyone. Because no one can die in a Marvel comic by Matt Fraction.

Battle Scars has been the most – if not the only – interesting spinoff from the Fear Itself event, the story of an Army Ranger whose mother was killed during that event, and who returns home for the funeral to find he’s extremely popular with S.H.I.E.L.D., Captain America, and Taskmaster. In this third issue of the six-issue miniseries, Johnson discovers that he is also popular with everyone in the Marvel Universe with a gun and a Swiss bank account. This month, that includes Deadpool, and thank God, because he almost never appears in comic books these days.

Scattershot: Suicide Squad #5 Review

On a lot of levels, the reboot of Suicide Squad has been a hot mess. It started with a psychological torture tale, moved into a zombie story and then transitioned quickly into a prison break movie with almost no segues or fanfare… and that’s all in what’s supposed to be a single, cohesive, five-issue story arc. In many ways it’s a failure, but what’s saving it is two things: a total commitment to the primary characters on the part of writer Adam Glass… with the keyword there being “primary,” because the second saving grace is the apparent willingness to kill just about any character at any time.

By the time this issue rolls around, what’s left of the Squad (We’ve lost one or two via simple escape, gunshot wound, the odd zombie attack and fatal viral infection… only some of which may have been passed on by Harley Quinn) is stuck behind bars, infected with something called the Rot Virus (Yeah, sounds like Harley) and charged with quelling a prison riot before the bombs they had stuck in their brain stems. So long story short, Glass is throwing everything at the wall to amp up the tension. Deadshot’s out of bullets. El Diablo might have to kill someone. Waller’s trapped two floors above the riot. And the tension works… for those characters.

When I was a kid, I developed a theory called “Murder She Wrote Logic,” which was borne out of (duh) Murder She Wrote. Whenever you watched that show, you didn’t need to look at the evidence or the logic or anything else; all you had to do was look at who was least likely to be the killer, and you knew that they were the perp. You can use the same logic on Suicide Squad: whichever characters are drawn in broad strokes are doomed. The aforementioned Deadshot, El Diablo and Amanda Waller are well drawn out with reasonably solid dialogue and characterization, so they make it. Others like Yo-Yo, and Voltaic in the first issue? Meat for the machine, man. It’s an area where the book falls down; yeah, Glass will kill members of the team – something you’d expect to see in a book called Suicide Squad – but you can pretty much call who’s dead the first time they speak. They might as well show Deadshot a picture of their grandkids and tell him how many days they have left until retirement.