A cynical man might say that the real story here is: yeah, the price of Batman is jumping up to $3.99. An optimist might say that we’re finally getting some solid background on the Court of Owls, co-written by Scott Snyder and drawn by Rafael Albuquerque. A realist like me might say, “Fuck. Now I have to review two stories every month.”
What are we gonna be forking over twelve and a half cents a page for, Scott?
1/10/12 Update – Dave Dorman has taken down the post and comments linked to in this article. For now, you can see the cached page with the quote and comments in question here.
Dave Dorman, an artist known for his work on Star Wars and Heavy Metal, took to his blog today to decry the artwork of Fiona Staples published in USA Today to promote her upcoming comic book Saga, which will be written by Brian K. Vaughan. Saga will follow the story of two soldiers from opposite sides of an intergalactic war who fall in love, start a family, and then get pursued by bounty hunters (among other threats).
Here’s the artwork in question:
His beef? After the jump.
2011 was one hell of a big year for DC Comics, a year of bold moves against the grain of what Marvel was doing, proudly proclaimed with bold slogans on their comics’ covers: “Holding the line at $2.99!” and “The New 52!” But, as tends to happen with all well-meaning slogans, like “habeas corpus” and “I’ll pull out,” some things are easier to say than to live up to.
In an extensive interview with Newsarama’s Vaneta Rogers, DC Comics Vice President of Sales John Rood and SVP of Sales Bob Wayne announced that Batman and Detective comics will be bumping up to $3.99, while increasing their page count for additional “story and editorial content.” No word, however, on what “editorial content” means. Could be interesting backmatter… could be grainy photos of Grant Morrison’s junk.
Back in 2000, Jamie Delano, wrote a nineteen issue series for Vertigo called Outlaw Nation with co-creator Goran Sudžuka. In 2006, Image and Desperado Publishing released a 456 page bound edition of the collected issues, printed in black and white. The series is inspired by the idea of “Johnsons”, not a cock euphemism here but, rather:
Derived from a 19th century slang term for hobos and petty thieves, “Johnsons” were characterised by Jack Black in his 1926 autobiography as a society of “yegs” – outlaws and small-time crooks – who were nonetheless honorable in their dealings with one another and always ready to help out those in trouble. Black’s concept of the Johnson Family was inspirational to William S. Burroughs, who developed his own inimitable version in The Place of Dead Roads . . . to Burroughs, a person is either a “Johnson” or a “shit”. – Delano, from the introduction of Outlaw Nation, Collected Edition
“Shits” are lawmakers, “busybodies who persecute those engaged in victimless crime”. The “Johnsons” would see that put to an end.
Delano takes this idea and creates a vast collection of characters in an extended Johnson Family, outlaws and anti-heroes carved from every conceivable American cultural icon from the past 100 years and then some – Old Time Western Law Man, Hippie Chick (Now Older And Wiser), Biker, Saloon Owner, Lost War Veteran and more. They’re all here and all seemingly related.
In a week in which Marvel continues to drag out Fear Itself: The Phantom Menance The Fearless, in which I finally was subjected to saw the Green Lantern movie, and, in which the newly rebooted DC Universe has decided that it’s already so bored with itself that it needs to begin crossovers among its books to try and keep its readers interested and buying them, it’s safe to say that this five year old graphic novel was far more interesting than anything else that was in my pull pile or other viewing this week.
More, with spoilers, after the jump.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Spoiler alert! No, not Stephanie Brown, I just ruin the story for you.
The first four issue arc of Detective Comics was one of the most pleasant surprises of DC Comics’ New 52: tightly written with an interesting new villain, excellent art, and with the best cliffhanger of all September’s comics where The Joker’s face is apparently torn off and nailed to a wall. And what was most remarkable about the run to me was that it was written by Tony Daniel, who is first and foremost an artist. Now we’re on issue five. And it turns out that as a writer? Maybe Tony Daniel is a hell of an artist.
This issue really felt like Daniel said, “Okay, I put my all into those first four issues… now what the fuck am I gonna do?” He opens up with a riff on Occupy Wall Street – which means he probably only came up with this arc within the past couple of months – and since this protest is pro-Joker, it just falls flat to me. Don’t get me wrong, as a Watchmen fan, I am totally willing to accept the concept of a good anti-vigilante demonstration in comics, but pro-Joker? In Gotham City? That’s about as believable as a pro al-Queda rally in lower Manhattan, or a pro-Beiber riot in Max’s Kansas City. It just doesn’t ring true.
EDITOR’S NOTE: This review’s Prime Directives: Serve the public trust. Protect the innocent. Spoil the book.
Dear Marvel Comics: please hire Rob Williams back. His work on Daken: Dark Wolverine was compelling and entertaining. Amanda liked his Ghost Rider a lot. Hell, I think his Classwar is a damn fine book, and that was his first time writing comics. He needs you to give him work. We need you to do it. Because if you don’t give him something to do, he might write some more Robocop for Dynamite Comics, and I don’t think I can bear that.
I’ll start with the positive: this isn’t as bad as Williams’s last run on Terminator / Robocop: Kill Human a few months back. That, however, is not an endorsement; a massive concussion isn’t as bad as an impacted skull fracture, but ain’t nobody lining up for either of them.
It has been a crazy-busy day here at the Crisis On Infinite Midlives Home Office; some days, you just don’t have a lot of time to play around on the Internet. Or to watch TV. I mean, let’s say you want to catch up on Battlestar Galactica. That’s four seasons, man! It’s like ninety hours if you want to catch up on the whole thing, or sixty-eight hours if you just want to see the good stuff (Tigh’s a Cylon? Really? If we’d gone to season five, we probably would have found out that Adama was a Power Ranger. And stay tuned for season six, where we ask: who are the final four Weebles!).
We understand, and want to help. So even though we’re strapped for time today, we’d like to present: Battlestar Galactica. In it’s entirety. In four minutes. In 8-bit animation.
You heard me.
It’s been a big week for Crisis On Infinite Midlives. We started the week as we normally do: wth a crippling hangover. And we ended it in the way we always dreamed: with a “Good job, champs!” message from DC Comics! Assuming that by “Good job,” you mean “Cease and desist.” And that by “champs” you mean “Scofflaw spastics.” And that by “comics,” you mean “legal.”
Either way, what’s done is done. It’s a new year, and the first Wednesday of selfsaid new year, which means that legal entanglements or no, this:
…means the end of our broadcast day.
But even though it means very few appearances in front of an intellectual property judge, it means a week of good comics: we’ve got a new The Boys, Defenders, Action Comics, Lone Ranger, AND… most importantly (to Amanda): Peanuts #1.
But let’s face reality: be it new comics or reprints, C&D or T&A, before we write about them, we gotta read them.
So while we get up to Mach 1 speed and remember how to recite Amendment 5: see you tomorrow, suckers!
EDITOR’S NOTE: And once again, one last review of last week’s books before the comic stores open… and somehow once again, it’s about Black Panther. Although it might seem like it, Black Panther is not the last book I read every month. It’s just that since it comes out a week before Hawk & Dove, I need it to steel myself for the inevitable.
Black Panther has been canceled; the last issue of David Liss’s run is in two months, closing out the currently running Kingpin of Wakanda storyline. Which is a Goddamned shame on a couple of fronts, the first being that Liss has put together a great run of comics. The second being that, after all this time – I got an inkling of it back when I reviewed issue #524 a couple months back, but I didn’t totally get it – I’ve finally figured this book out. It’s old-school pulp, pure and simple.
A rich guy with a background in adventuring in the jungle, genetic superiority to normal men, who’s battling to defeat colonial encroachment? That’s Doc Savage when it isn’t Tarzan or Alan Quartermain. A rich guy who puts together a team of specialists to battle corruption in an urban jungle? That’s The Shadow – yeah, okay; it’s also Batman, but if you look back at Detective Comics #27, Batman was also The fucking Shadow. Not to be confused with fucking The Shadow; that was Margo Lane. Or maybe Alec Baldwin. But I digress.
There are times, when I’m about five beers in, when I say to myself, “You know who might be fun to go drinking with? John Barrowman.” And there are other times, when I’m more like nine beers in when I say to myself, “You know what might be fun? Going to New York and seeing that Spider-Man musical. I bet with enough whiskey, it’d be fun to watch Spider-Man dance!”
And there are other times, when I surf the Internet, when I find things that make me think I should quit drinking altogether. Like video of John Barrowman. Singing and dancing. With Spider-Man. In public.
Oh yes. This is a thing that has happened to me. And now, after the jump, it is going to happen to you.
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