All New, All Incomprehensible: The Ravagers #1 Review

Last September, DC Comics rebooted their entire universe, with the stated purpose of making each and every one of their books accessible to readers who had never read any of their books before. It is now June, and DC Comics has released The Ravagers #1, and apparently their commitment to making books accessible to readers unfamiliar with existing continuity lasted almost exactly ten months.

The Ravagers is a superteam introduced in the latest few issues of Teen Titans, which I haven’t been following as closely as I perhaps should be because it started as a decompressed and slow paced riff on The X-Men and became, well, a decompressed and slow paced riff on The X-Men. Well, apparently somewhere around Teen Titans ninth issue, they introduced The Ravagers, victims of the fiendish plot of shadow organization N.O.W.H.E.R.E. to activate the metagenes of unsuspecting teenagers and to force innocent comics writers to type longassed acronyms.

Putting The Band Back Together: Powers #10 Review

Brian Michael Bendis’s and Michael Avon Oeming’s Powers has been a dicey read for me for a long time now. A comic that started as a unique take on the superhero book, where some regular cops worked regular cases that just happened to involve superhumans and included some of the coolest dialogue you could find in a comic book, it eventually… evolved. Or devolved. Into a book where the regular cops got powers and secret identities, and the compelling partners at the core of the book split up, all while Bendis and Oeming started putting out, say, an issue a year, whether we needed one or not.

If the original Powers arc, Who Killed Retro Girl?, was the comics equivalent of Twin Peaks season one, the more recent arcs have been more like Laverne & Shirley after they went to Hollywood… assuming Garry Marshal had had the brainwave to replace Shirley with The Great Gazoo. Which is somewhat of an unkind comparison, because I always kept Powers on my pull list, because even while the characters shuffled and I lost track of the plot between issues, it still offered some of the best dialogue in comics, and there was always something interesting going on, even if some issues felt less like seeing Muhammed Ali in his prime in 1979 than it did watching Muhammed Ali trying to eat prime rib in 2009.

You get all that? Good. Now forget it all. Because Powers #10 is flat-out the best issue of Powers since the early, early Image Comics days. It has it all: the crackling dialogue, Walker and Pilgrim back together doing interrogations in the box, and real, human stakes behind the superpowers. It is awesome, and one of the best single issues of not just Powers, but of any comic book I’ve read in weeks.

Play From Your Heart: Batman Incorporated #1 Review

Let’s start with the thing about Batman Incorporated #1 that stuck out the most for me: the next time some comics writer namechecks Bill Hicks for the sake of namechecking Bill Hicks, I’ll fucking glass them. Yes, the man was a genius, but that was twenty years ago; to put it in terms music people might understand, referencing Bill Hicks is the equivalent of trying to look hip by dropping Queensryche references. It’s irritating hipster behavior. Stop it.

Other things that should probably be avoided in order to prevent raising my ire include, but are not limited to: referencing old stories, some of them classics that were never meant to be part of current continuity, as a wink and a nod to the reader… and coming up with another “Bat{$animalName}” just because you thought that shit was cool when you were twelve, even if that new animal is pretty fucking funny.

Little things like this press my buttons, and they expose an endemic problem I am likely to have whenever I review a Batman comic written by Grant Morrison. He has been riding on gimmicks like this since the start of his run years ago, and they thoroughly turned me off. Because of this, I have an inherent bias when I read his Batman stuff; I expect to not like it, and therefore I start looking for things in the book to support that hypothesis. When the reality is, if I’m honest, there is a potentially decent Batman story at the core of Batman Incorporated #1… the only question is whether it will survive the comics hipster references that have collapsed Morrison’s prior Batman work under its own weight.

I Never Get My Own Cult – Review Of The Unwritten #37

Let me let you in on a dirty little secret of mine: when I was a child, I had no imaginary friends.

“Yes, and?” I hear you saying. Also hearing things like “Big deal.” Ok, stay with me.

As a child myself, I would see the idea of imaginary friends all the time in movies or tv shows for kids. Some darling little urchin would get so involved in a world of their own building that they’d be swept away into The Land Of Make Believe, some magical place set up by their own brain that felt so real as to be so. Calvin had his Hobbes. Big Bird had Mr. Snuffleupagus (until the Stranger Danger hysteria, anyway). The kids in The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe cartoon had their group hallucination…whatever that was. But me? No matter how hard I tried to make it so, every time I opened up my closet hoping to find a mystic realm, all I found was a pile of laundry. Oh, and some dry dog food a mouse had been hoarding from my dog’s food dish. The hard slap of reality, brought to me by Purina.

So, I turned to books for my escape.

Then, with a little assist from somebody else’s printed words, I could lose myself for days or weeks at a time in an alternate world, surrounded by characters as vivid and real as any I’d have to actually interact with in the real world. Even now, a good book, or even better, series of books, is still my escapist avenue of choice. The characters in the books didn’t contribute to my bad day and their world is not the one with the problems I’m trying to avoid. What’s not to like?

But, in the end, I know when to put the book down. Whatever I’m avoiding, needs to be dealt with. Bills paid; bosses appeased. Someone has to be there to put Rob to bed when he falls asleep on the couch watching old pro wrestling documentaries, preferably before he spills beer on the couch.

So, what does this have to do with The Unwritten #37, written by Mike Carey with layouts by Peter Gross?

A look into the crazy world of Twihards…and comic book spoilers…after the jump!

Fantastic Voyage: Fantastic Four #606 Review

Editor’s Note: Come along and ride on a Fantastic Spoilage! 

First off, let’s stipulate that Fantastic Four editor Tom Brevoort was having a bad day when he recommended that an issue about alternate Nazi versions of the Fantastic Four be labeled as a Point One entry issue, rather than this simple, classic-feeling one-and-done about the core team performing the type of weird, over the top science adventure that is the team’s stock in trade. Yes, a bad day, and not simply colossally poor judgment, or perhaps rampant alcohol abuse. But more likely an off day. Sure.

Let us also stipulate that, while this is an entertaining and charming issue that services all four core characters extremely well and captures the feeling of a classic FF adventure, part of the reason it feels classic is because the plot has been done before. And done, and done, and done, both in movies and in other comics. The thing works, but it works because it’s hung on a proven framework… the same way The Magnificent Seven is cool, but mostly because it’s taken straight across from The Seven Samurai.

Assembling: Justice League Dark #9 Review

Editor’s Note: won nigeb sreliops!

Before I say anything else about Justice League Dark #9, the first issue written by Jeff Lemire, I feel I must protest and state, with the authority of a seventeen-year two pack a day smoker who quit two years ago, that the only way John Constantine would be able to make it up the steps of the ziggurat we see mid-issue – a ziggurat in Peru, meaning a minimum of 5,000 feet above sea level – would be if Superman miracled his ass up there.

Other than that misstep, this re-reboot of Justice League Dark is generally effective, given that Lemire has the unenviable task of having to introduce a new status quo, including a new cast of characters, team raison d’etre, and mission, all in 20 pages. That is a lot of expositionally heavy work to have to do, and it does show in several places; for example, you can clearly see the man behind the curtain saying, at one point, “Oh shit; Andrew Bennett could wrap this conflict up in ten seconds. I have, let’s see… 20 words in which I can resolve that.” However, it is a generally promising beginning… with a few obvious problems.

The most major one being that, intentionally or not, the guts of the plot to this story is so close to that of the Avengers movie that one of them has to be getting an unintentional boner.

On To Greater Glory – Review Of Glory #26 And Wonder Woman #9

Once upon a time, in 1941, the character of Wonder Woman was created by a Harvard educated psychologist (and apparent bondage enthusiast) named William Moulton Marston. Wonder Woman is/was an Amazon princess, sent to the world of man as an ambassador of peace. Marston created Wonder Woman to be the embodiment of a type of liberated woman who was atypical in that period of history. Indeed Marston wrote, “Wonder Woman is psychological propaganda for the new type of woman who should, I believe, rule the world.” (Wow. Auspicious.) However, “psychological propaganda” origins aside, the character has been popular with men and women for decades. In fact, in 2011, IGN named Wonder Woman fifth from the top on a list of the Top 100 Comic Book Characters Of All Time.

Meanwhile, in 1993, the character of Glory was created by comic book illustrator (and foot extraction hobbyist) Rob Liefeld. Glory was created for Liefeld’s Extreme Studios at Image Comics. Glory is a half Amazonian/half demon offspring, who leaves the Amazonians to enter the world of man and kick a lot of ass. Liefeld created Glory to have a Wonder Woman type character to run around in his Extreme universe and give him an excuse to draw cheesecake.

Since DC’s reboot this past fall has served to drag 90s comic book culture back kicking screaming to the profitable fore, it is not surprising that Image has decided to relaunch some of Liefeld’s past creations, such as Supreme, Youngblood, and Glory. What might be surprising is that Glory is a better Wonder Woman comic than the one being written currently at DC by Brian Azzarello.

Why?

Read on for spoiler laden comparisons, Scooby Gangs, and basement dwelling emo gods.

Ich Bin Ein Douchebags: Fantastic Four #605.1 Review

Editor’s Note: It was the world’s strangest accident. While testing a new Web site, our heroes were bombarded by mysterious spoilers from outer space!

In a complete and total vacuum, Fantastic Four #605.1 is an interesting little one-and-done Elseworlds-style alternate history of the Fantastic Four, hypothesizing what the team would be like if they’ve been born and raised in Nazi Germany. Which, again, taken on its own is a kind of cool concept (although “Nazi Thing” sounds suspiciously like a fetish German Scheisse porno), but in the real world, it only shows that writer Jonathan Hickman has read Mark Millar’s Red Son and Warren Ellis’s Planetary, and that he also thinks that the character of Reed Richards is a real, real douchebag.

Tip Of The Mushroom: The Manhattan Projects #3 Review

When I was 16 years old and a Junior in high school, I designed an atomic bomb. Y’know, for fun.

This was back in the mid-80s, so this was a big thing to try to do; these days, I’m pretty sure you can Google “How to build an atomic bomb” and get three different working designs, provided you don’t mind getting a particular red mark on a file with your name on it, and having to get your prostate tickled every time you go within 500 yards of an airport.

No, back then you needed to hit libraries and read every book you could get your hands on about the subject, from John McPhee’s The Curve of Binding Energy (Which I highly recommend, if only to scare the living shit out of you; the next time a politician tries to terrify you with ephemeral ideas about Soviet-bought dirty suitcase nukes, it’s easier to giggle at their ignorance when you know that you can make a dirty bomb with a pile of uranium, an ammunition press, a .44 handgun and a public toilet. I am not joking) to Richard Rhodes’s phonebook about the original Manhattan Project, The Making of The Atomic Bomb, which still sits proudly on my bookshelf.

I read everything I could get my hands on about the original Manhattan / Los Alamos project for clues on how one might build such a thing (I also asked my chemistry teacher how to synthesize hexamethelinetetramine in case I needed to make RDX high explosives, and I wasn’t referred to law enforcement, but what the hell; it was the 80s. We knew what freedom was then. Freedom and Aqua-Net). I was fascinated by these guys out in the desert, trying to build something that, for all they knew, would turn all the nitrogen in the atmosphere into plasma and make the Phoenix Force look like something that could be knocked down by Midol.

All of this is one hell of a long way to go to explain why, although I am generally not the biggest fan of Jonathan Hickman’s comics, I am totally digging his work on The Manhattan Projects.

Overstimulated, Exhausted Children: Avengers Vs. X-Men #3 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: This review constitutes a confirmed extinction-level spoiler.

I don’t have kids myself, but many of my former drinking buddies do, which has in turn made me decide I can never have kids. Because I just can’t talk to them. You ever try talking to a little kid, particularly after they’ve had a shitload of candy? Candy you gave them in the hopes they would take it, go away and stop trying to talk to you?

You can’t make any sense of it; they spin wildly from point to point, with no real logical gristle connecting them, with weird exaggerations that beggar belief to hear (“Wait, wait, little Billy… you’re saying Deathstroke rode his pony… sorry, his My Little Pony… to Cybertron? To fight fucking Voldemort? Who plots your shit, Billy? Rob Liefeld?”). After a while, it starts to hurt the mind to keep track of what’s happening and why, because if you stop and think about it for even a minute, it doesn’t make any sense at all.

In that same vein, if I told you that the plot of a story was, “You know what would be cool? If the Avengers battled the X-Men and Phoenix – no, not some redhead in a green body stocking, but the actual giant flaming bird, like the one from Battle of The Planets – on – get this – the fucking moon,” you would think that you were overhearing a schoolyard monologue by some kid who was on the first step of a road that’s started with Ritalin and will eventually end with methamphetamine extract.

Welcome to Avengers Vs. X-Men #4: where every plot point was written with a prefix of, “And you know what else would be cool?” regardless as to whether it makes any Goddamned sense at all.