Man oh man, what a big bunch of comics this week. Making that walk down the Star Clipper aisle of single issues took me quite a bit of time. So many new issues (FF! Amazing Spider-Man!); so many one shots (The Jack Kirby Omnibus Sampler!); so many variant covers (Incredible Hulk #1 times eight!); and Tank Girl, too (Tank Girl!). Let’s get right to it.

Tank Girl: Carioca was just plain terrible. I know, I can’t believe I wrote that either. I love Tank Girl, I love Alan Martin’s oddball scripts, but Mike McMahon’s art stinks. Again, I can’t believe I wrote that either. I’ve enjoyed McMahon’s style on various 2000 AD characters, but the faces in this, ugh. It’s not just that everybody he draws is ugly — although they are all eye-bleedingly ugly — it’s that his lay-outs are so staid and his panels so stilted that Martin’s script comes across as one-note and unfunny. The whole issue reads like it’s in slow-motion. Alan Martin is brilliant, but his luster is tarnished to a dingy glimmer by McMahon’s boring art. That’s unconscionable.

Savage Hawkman 2 is also dismal. In just two issues, Tony S. Daniel and Philip Tan have made me nostalgic for that stretch of time when Hawkman was dead — any of ‘em. The art is monotonously unimaginative and Daniel has no handle on who Carter Hall is. Is he a brooding tough guy? Is he some sort of Indiana Jones-esque scholar/adventurer? Is he a bird, or is he dancer? The “plot” (do you like those sarcasti-quotes? I bought them just to use in this “review”) is impenetrable, but it has something to do with Hawky fighting Morphicius (isn’t that a lyric from Dee-Lite’s “Groove Is In the Heart”?), a big, pointy-eared guy who loves Nth metal. Or maybe he hates Nth metal, I’m not really sure. If you held a gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you what Morphicius’ motivation is or what his powers are. Sucking? I dunno, I’m just spitballing here. If nothing else, I’ve finally figured out why the book is called Savage Hawkman; it’s because reading is it is a savage assault on my sensibilities. Easily the worst book in the New 52, and yes, I’ve seen Red Hood and the Interstellar Hoochie Mama. That’s at least prurient trash — this is like reading someone’s coma diary.

So after that mess, I read FF 11. Me and FF have a prickly relationship at this point. I really, truly loved Jonathan Hickman’s run on Fantastic Four, but everything since the death of Johnny Storm has been pretty rough going. The past two issues of this series have made great strides towards repairing the damage, so this one is important. Is the book ascending again, or does the nosedive in quality continue? On the plus side, Hickman had the Thing return from his period of morning; that’s good. But all Thing does is sit around and provide some light comic relief; that’s bad. However, Hickman solved his multiple-Reed Richards-problem by dramatically altering the landscape of the Marvel Universe; that’s astounding. I mean it, this issue’s *SPOILER REDACTED BECAUSE YOU REALLY OUGHTA SEE IT, NOT GET IT SECOND-HAND FROM A COMICS BLOG* and I kinda peed myself a little bit. No fooling. This is the stuff I expect not just from Hickman (the huge swoop of a narrative arc changing direction and shocking you), but from the Fantastic Four. This is the book Marvel should use as their difference-making engine; the FF should always be the biggest, most cosmic, mind-blowing comic in Marvel’s stable. This issue certainly fits that bill. But I must note again: It’s been 11 issues of this book and probably five of its predecessor since I’ve seen the Thing punch anything, and that is inhumane.

Butcher Baker, The Righteous Maker 7 inches the book ever-so-slightly towards some sort of resolution. That’s progress, right? I love Mike Huddleston’s art — the cover homage to Bill Sienkewicz’s cover for the Elektra miniseries (itself an homage to the theater poster for “Prizzi’s Honor”) is worth the price of admission alone — but I’d be hard pressed to think of a writer more in love with the smell of his own farts than Joe Casey. OK, maybe I am. But my point is this: I’m seven months deep in this book and the Jackie Gleason sheriff from issue one still hasn’t caught up to Butcher, Butcher himself is still trying to complete his mission of “killing these bad guys for Dick Cheney and Jay Leno” and — wait, that’s it. This whole series thus far is just two converging points never converging. It looks so good though. I think Huddleston should get on Tank Girl and solve two of my problems.

Game of Thrones 2 has the opposite problem, pacing-wise. George R.R. Martin’s book is dense and character driven, but Daniel Abraham is racing through it all at blinding speed. That’s one of the difficulties of trying to adapt a 700-page book; if you really want to do it justice, you’d need 300 issues or so to fit it all in. I have a hard time comprehending how fans of the book will be satisfied, or how fans of the TV show will be satisfied by this ultra-lite version of the story. It’s not bad by any means, although Tommy Patterson’s version of Ned Stark looks a touch creepy here and there, it just feels so skimpy.

The Incredible Hulk 1 marks (another) new direction for ol’ Jade Jaws, one of Marvel’s most simple characters who happens to be one of the most complex to write. Jason Aaron and Marc Silvestri have him hanging out with the Mole People deep inside the Earth’s crust, and once again, Banner is separate from Hulk. In theory, I don’t know that I’m ready to begin another storyline that exists to unite the two, and honestly, that’s the only outcome I see for this. You can either have them trapped inside the same body and the conflict is one trying to free himself from the other (the Stan Lee), you can have them integrated into a super-smart, super-strong super-human (the Peter David) or you can have the Hulk-dominant version who never changes and conquers an entire alien world (the Greg Pak). You can’t kill Bruce Banner and you can’t kill Hulk, so these are the ground rules. I’ve seen this game played many times, and a talented creative team can make it work and feel new. I think Aaron and Silvestri are off to a pretty good start, because at least Aaron is opening with a new gambit: Banner’s gone nuts, and he’s the dangerous one now thanks to his super-science experiments. Sold, I’m in. See? Simple, yet it has to get complicated before it’s all over. I really do like Silvestri’s art, but his female anatomy is egregious, even for a comic book. Government agent Amanda von Doom either defies the laws of spandex and gravity, or she has the worst pair of bolt-ons ever purchased.

Kirby Genesis 4 is a big ol’ pile of “huh?” Not necessarily in a bad way, there’s just a lot happening in this one. Galaxy Green, Captain Victory, Silver Star, Tiger 20 and I may be missing a few others get together to hash out who’s in charge, who’s going to save Earth from the alien invaders and who’s going home empty-handed. Kurt Busiek, Alex Ross and Jack Herbert have jammed this issue with colorful characters and movement, which is very Kirby of them. If you know your Kirby, you know that once everyone meets and tussles for dominance, the next step is to go after the bad guys. The final page of this issue implies that’s exactly what we’re getting next month — I eagerly await lots of Kirby crackle and mayhem.

Planet of the Apes 7 maintains its course as a solid, dependable action comic. Sullivan, the mayor of the human community in Ape City, has given up on pacifism and tolerance in favor of guns and lots of ‘em. Alaya, the ape leader, sinks deeper into madness and hypocrisy, forging documents in the name of the apes’ deceased spiritual leader in order to consolidate her power base. It’s a lot of exposition and political maneuvering, which doesn’t always make the best comic book. As part of the ongoing series, however, it’s a nice breather before what’s sure to be a civilization-wrecking battle. I’m primed for a cataclysmic ape v. human confrontation, and I hope we’re entering that end-game.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3 is — wait, really? We’re only up to issue 3? Kevin Eastman and Tom Waltz have packed each issue with plenty of story and old-school Turtle magic, so it feels like this book has been going on for longer three months. Casey Jones shares more of his background with Raphael, who has no idea who he is or what he’s doing in New York, while the three remaining Turtle Bros argue about the futility of continuing the search for their missing Raph after a year of frustration. The latter is particularly effective as character building, as Leonardo’s commitment to duty and following orders runs headlong into Donatello’s pragmatism. Neither brother is right or wrong, it’s just a conflict of personalities, and it shows us who these guys are rather than telling us. This one ends with the implication that the next issue will be a royal rumble between the three turtles and Hob, a mutated cat who owes Splinter some eye-for-an-eye payback. And who knows, maybe Raph and Casey show up on cue to pitch in?

Batman the Brave and the Bold 12 guest stars Zatanna in a special Halloween issue. Bats and Zats go to the House of Mystery to investigate some trouble Cain and Able got into, namely, Abel is now a tree. Who’s responsible for this and how can Batman make them pay for being a scofflaw? It’s awesome the way Sholly Fisch works obscure (by today’s standards) characters into this title and makes them all come across as cool and interesting rather than devolving into a bunch of ham-handed, “I’m Cain, I’m an evil immortal storyteller and I’m constantly killing my brother” type description. This is always a fun read, but the sheer number of classic DC horror characters who appear in this lift it up to a new level. This may be the best Halloween story you’ll read this Halloween — just saying. And I don’t even like Zatanna.

Now, about Amazing Spider-Man 672. Oh, ASM 672. This penultimate chapter of Spider Island really and truly teams up Spidey and Mary Jane as a super hero power couple, and the two do amazing things together. Sure, Pete’s the brains and the “true” super hero, but Mary Jane has been infected by the Spider Virus so she’s got the same powers, plus the benefit of common sense. Her ability to boost Pete up, focus him on the problem at hand and believe in him while also busting his chops a little is exactly what wives do to you. I say that with respect, because as smart as Pete is, it’s Mary Jane who believes in his intelligence and decency, and it’s a combination of those two things that makes a real difference during this crisis, not his proportionate spider-strength or the ability to walk on walls. Dan Slott has made Spider Island the first multi-part/big event book I’ve enjoyed in years – like, decades of years. Slott writes a great Spider-Man, sure; there’s also lots of action and quips, there’s science, there are plentiful nods to the character’s long history, and that’s all part of the comic fan experience. But his vision for Spider-Man is very simple, and unusual for a modern book: Spider-Man’s not the hero, Peter Parker is. His spider powers give him an edge, but what makes him a super hero is the same stuff you and I have. Heart, guts, a belief in the goodness of humanity, a sense of justice – these are the elements of a super hero, not the ability to spin a web. Also, there’s a final page development that will make you scream, and it’s either because it makes you believe Pete and Mary Jane are getting back together (yay!) or because it reminds you of how fantastic they were as a team and you’re mad that they’re no longer married. Dan Slott is crafting a masterpiece not just of Spider-Man stories, but of comics themselves. I’m convinced that in 10 years, all us old guys will be telling the young guys to pick this run up for its historical import, and because it’s exactly the type of book you should give to kids. It’s a story about a decent guy who’s trying to do right in the world, and sometimes his part-time job gets a little crazy, but he doesn’t let it get him down. Amazing Spider-Man continues to be inspirational, classic storytelling in the Mighty Marvel Manner, and it’s undoubtedly the best thing I read this week.

-Paul

A huge week for me this go ’round. Seven single issues plus two of Dark Horse’s plump anthologies makes the equivalent of fifteen comics. And you know what? I really have no major complaints with any of ‘em. It’s weird when that happens. I mean, I try not to buy any crappy books on a regular basis, but if you’ve been buying comics for any length of time, you know that you not infrequently have complaints with the storytelling, or the fill-in artist, or the characterization, or the coloring — there’s a lot that can and does go wrong. Those weeks when nothing goes wrong with any of your books are a happy surprise every time.

Savage Sword 3 is one of those plump DH anthologies I mentioned, and it really feels like they’re making this book just to please me. I’m a devotee of the works of Robert E. Howard, so I’m definitely the target audience, but each issue of this is stronger than the last. I think the diversity of the stories is the source of that strength. We get a nice Conan adventure, the start of a western starring the Sonora Kid, a self-contained detective story starring Steve Harrison, the first of a serialized Brule the Spear Slayer tale and a classic reprint from the Marvel days of Alan Zelenetz and Tony De Zuniga that’s absolutely gorgeous. Jeremy Barlow and Tony Parker also do a bang-up job on that Sonora Kid story, which is nothing more than set-up and the preamble to a saloon-clearing brawl, but their story has the spark and speed of the best of Howard. I’d love to see these two take on the picaresque adventures of giant cowboy, Breckenridge Elkins.

Herc 9 marks the start of a new arc for everybody’s favorite Greek demigod/bartender, and it’s also quite entertaining. Greg Pak and Fred Van Lente, with penciler David Hahn, are free of their Spider Island obligations so they start something that begins with Zeus being reduced to a fat and sloppy drunk mortal by his vengeful wife Hera, and ends with Herc fighting ninjas in Brooklyn with Elektra. It’s a fun story, particularly in the interplay between Herc and Zeus; Herc’s the last person you’d expect to be scandalized by his father’s behavior, but it just goes to show that even demigods can be embarrassed by the things their father says in mixed company. This has grown into one of the most consistently enjoyable books in my rotation — I actually did a little hop of joy when I saw it in the racks this week. I maybe hopped a little more when I read a drunken Zeus slurring “You can’t please ‘em, but I sure love watching them go,” at Herc’s maybe- girlfriend Rhea as she stormed out. This could be the beginning of the first successful father/son comic in … maybe forever. Hercules works best with an intelligent partner, and who knows more than the father of the gods/his dad?

Legion of Super-Heroes 2 is another action-packed chapter of Paul Levitz’s ongoing run. Phantom Girl, Ultra Boy and Chameleon Boy and their new recruits Dragonwing and Chemical Kid discover a rogue Daxamite behind last issue’s troubles on a watchworld, and he (Res-Vir of Daxam) intends to lead his people out into the larger universe (Daxamites are allergic to lead, and so are quarantined on their own planet for their safety). We get quite a bit of action, more development of Brainiac’s role as leader of the team and a further sense of how complicated the 31st century is in terms of socio-politics. The Legion really is its own thing in terms of continuity and background, and you either embrace the diversity or get lost in the complexity. I’m in the embracing camp, so I’m pleased to see that Paul Levitz has already left the ugly seam imposed on the story by the New 52 far behind.

Warlord of Mars 11 is also exhibiting a bit more complexity than it once did. Arvid Nelson and Stephen Sadowski have our titular warlord, John Carter, back on earth and out of the picture at this point. Instead, Dejah Thoris and Carthoris, her teenage son with John, are attempting to get to the bottom of some funny business at Barsoom’s atmosphere plant. Carthoris is a slightly-less confident John Carter, but he’s growing into the mantle of being the great man’s son, especially with the mighty Tars Tarkas acting as mentor. This arc is leading up to John Carter returning and taking on the gods of Mars, and is suffers a bit because we don’t have his narration explaining how death works on Barsoom and why everyone’s seemingly immortal until they’re not, and why they’re all so fatalistic as a result. We’re getting there though, and this issue’s not terrible, just a little talky and lacking in John Carter action.

Dungeons and Dragons 12 is back on the shelves, so I feel safe reviewing it — some of you fine folks might even consider buying it. Our brave dwarven paladin, Khal, suspects his sweetie back at home is in some trouble, so he drags the party back to his place to sort it out. The dwarven stead has a serious bug problem (kruthik, for you gamers), Khal’s prospective mother-in-law hates him and wants him dead, and it turns out Khal is something of a rock star poet to his people. I’ve praised John Rogers’ strong characterization and sense of D&D party dynamics before, but I’ll do it again because he’s so good: Rogers writes these characters so well that you can tell who’s saying what without the word balloon tails. Andrea Da Vito is sadly not the artist on this one, but his fill-ins (Andres Ponce, Nacho Arranz and Vicente Alcazar) do a fine job carrying the load. I miss Da Vito’s expressive art, but it’s still a great comic and a fun read.

Sergio Aragones’ Funnies 4 is another brilliant example of cartooning in the traditional sense. Aragones relates another tale from his youth, explaining his enduring love of marionettes, and a offers a brief re-telling of the Pinochio story with his usual flair, plus a couple of spot-the-difference pages and pantomime stories. I dunno how to explain it. Aragones puts a lot of heart and soul into these funny stories, offering his view of the world with humor and a sense of wonder. The guy’s a treasure, and his book is like nothing else out there — if you’re not picking this up, you’re missing out on one of the most unique, pure comic book experiences.

Tiny Titans 45 is the Batgirl issue, which is a timely reminder that there are a lot of Batgirls in the DC universe, and they’re all kinda boss. Also totally boss is Pantha, the soccer-loving cat-girl who thrashes Lobo’s Secret Six in a game. Then the Robins lose a game to the Just-Us League Cows by a huge margin — ’tis a silly book, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Pantha is just about the cutest character I’ve ever seen in Tiny Titans, and I want her featured more prominently in further issues.

Dark Horse Presents 5 is a big, fat book full of great stories. I praised Carla Speed McNeil’s Finder in an earlier installment of this, and now I think I’m hooked. Our man decides to go through the dead letter office and return all the abandoned mail he possibly can, because he can. It’s a straight-forward, slice-of-life story that hangs together very well. Eric Powell’s “Isolation” is also kinda epic, a classic sci-fi story about a robot sent on a five-century journey to a nearby planet to aid humanity, and how the solitude and his only diversions — religion, a gun and porn — help to humanize him, which helps him slip into dementia and drug abuse. It’s like an Asimov Foundation short story, but with Powell’s demented sensibilities, which is to say, highly enjoyable.

And then comes Conan: Road of Kings 9. I’ve like the stories but grumped about Mike Hawthorne’s pencils for eight months. This month, I get to like Roy Thomas’ story and like Dan Panosian’s pencils — it’s a jarring change of pace, but I’m all right with it. Conan and a gang of would-be assassins of Nemedia’s king fight their way out of the catacombs the king’s men have trapped them in, which results in a very solid story with art that finally matches the mood. Panosian’s Conan is far less pretty than Hawthorne’s, his action scenes are more dynamic and better laid-out, he knows how to scale a sword in comparison to Conan — everything is better with Panosian on the pencil. It’s like I’m getting a whole new Conan book unexpectedly in the middle of an arc. No longer burdened by sub-par art, I can fully appreciate Thomas’ story, which seems much more vibrant and less static than what’s come before. I’m sure a lot of that is to Panosian’s credit, and some of it is because Conan has to hack his way through an army of hungry undead, which is pretty metal. I’d love to see Panosian finish this arc up.

So there you have it. Conan: The Road of Kings is the best thing I read this week, which I don’t think has ever happened in its nine month run. That’s crazy, because I love Conan, but that’s how much affect the wrong artist can have on a book. I’d been tolerating Conan: ROK up to this point, but now I’m enthusiastic about it. Thanks, Dan Panosian. Thanks, Roy Thomas.

-Paul

Alright, by now, everyone must have heard about DC’s “Little-Comic-That-Could,” known as Animal Man. This off-brand 3rd-rate Superhero has found new success in DC’s relaunch. A lot of people, including myself, were very surprised by how well it performed. Personally, I loved the story and the art style, and I’d recommend it to any horror fan who is looking to get into books about “capes.” And that’s the thing. With most of the New DC, it would appear that the majority of the stories skew towards and older “mature” audience. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it makes things a little tougher to break newer and younger readers into the DC mix. But I’m not here to complain about that. After all, there really is something for everyone in this launch… But let’s get back to my point. Animal Man is a great horror story .

As you readers may or may not know, I’m a huge horror fan, but it’s a bit difficult to get that fix in the comics department. And sure, one might say that I’m just not looking hard enough, but at the same time, all horror isn’t created equal. There are some really bad ones out there… I used to work for a few video rental chains, and comics and movies are a lot alike in many ways. And when it comes to horror, they’re almost identical. I used to stock so much garbage back at those rental stores… And I’m not saying that every low-budget horror flick is garbage, but a lot of them tend to be. And the problem isn’t the budget, so much as it is the focus. Likewise, with horror comics, a book could be drawn very well, but it could lack the substance of a decent story… Or it could be a great story, but the art could be committing criminal acts on your eyes, which totally takes you out of the story. And sometimes, it’s just not good. But with Animal Man… Things are different.

For starters, one of the few but consistent complaints that I’ve heard about the series is that folks don’t like the “muted” art direction that artist, Travel Foreman, has chosen to use for the comic. And hey, it might not be your cup of tea, but for the nature of the story, I think it works wonders for setting the tone. For example, in the first issue, our hero Animal Man (Buddy Baker), settles a hostage situation after not having used his powers for heroics for a while. When the dust settles, we find that his eyes are now crying blood. Now, there’s no real way to make crying blood look classy, but when compared to other attempts at showing this effect, Foreman’s art style certainly makes the scene unsettling. Other shining examples include the dream sequence near the end of issue #1 as well as the exploding hippopotamus that birth asymmetric horrors that eat a few dudes in issue #2, not to mention the undead animal pets. But that’s just the art, what about the story?

It’s pretty cool. And yeah, I know that’s very lazy of me, but so far, I have nothing bad to say about Jeff Lemire’s writing on this book, and I hope that it remains that way. I didn’t particularly care for his run on Superboy, and I just can’t get into Sweet Tooth. But with Animal Man? The story focus is very tight on Buddy and his family. There hasn’t really been a lot of superheroics in the first 2 issues, and that’s fine, because at the very least, Lemire has me caring about all the featured characters in this book. And I felt bad for the minor characters that have died, something that I can’t really say for any of the other minor characters that have died in this relaunch… Except for maybe that dude in Birds of Prey #1. Anyway, the writing isn’t something that I feel I could explain in less than a few paragraphs, so I’m not going to attempt. Just know that it clicks with the horror side of my brain, and that’s all that really matters. As of writing this, I know that we still have a few 1st printing #1s in the store… Probably the only store in the St. Louis area… So come on down and check it out, and if you don’t like it, I’m sorry, but if you do, pick up #2.

-Fleet

In recent years, DC has done a pretty fantastic job of releasing their inventory of Jack Kirby comics in nicely produced and fairly affordable (especially when compared to their Archives line) hardcovers. With a catalog as expansive as Kirby’s “Fourth World” work to his issues of the “Losers” to Joe Simon & Jack Kirby’s 1940s collaborations on “Sandman” all in omnibus reprints, Kirby’s apocalyptic adventure series “Kamandi: The Last Boy On Earth” stood out as a glaring omission. Recently, though, the first volume of an omnibus reprinting of the classic series finally has been released.

Here’s the first page of “Kamandi” #1 via the Jack Kirby Museum.

According to a Comics Urban Legends Revealed article, Kirby created “Kamandi” when then-publisher of DC Carmine Infantino asked him to create a title like the movie series “Planet of the Apes.” Kirby’s series of tales featuring a lone boy wandering a ruined landscape dominated by a wide range of animal men certainly certainly fits the bill. He was able to take that derivative premise and use it to create some of the most exciting comics of his career. In part, some of Kirby’s success with the series ability to be as flexible as his imagination. Kamandi was a comic where Kirby could have biker gangs, UFOs, and Tiger Princes all share the same pages. It felt like no idea was too big or too weird for it. Factor in how Kamandi’s story was very much a quintessential apocalyptic road trip story that constantly moved forward to new locales just as Kirby constantly pushed the plot of the story to unpredictable places. I can’t think of a 1970s Kirby work better suited for the restless style of his comics from the decade.

“Kamandi: The Last Boy on Earth” is a comic as influential on mainstream comics as it is on the world of alt-comix work like adventure stories of guys like Brian Ralph and Kazimir Strzepek. Anyone with an interest in Kirby’s work or wasteland adventure should check the omnibus out.

-Nick

The hour is late and my companion bottle is dangerously low — let’s dispense with preamble and get right to the comics.

Alpha Flight number 5 makes me question what I’m doing buying this book. This seems to be the norm, however; every other issue reads sorta “meh,” and then the next issue picks up the pace or at least makes more sense to me. Admittedly, some of my confusion arises from the fact that I haven’t been reading any of the Fear Itself books except this one and Herc, so I’m probably missing key developments. In this issue, Puck calls in a favor from his old pal, the Taskmaster, to get him to help train all the Canadian intellectuals Alpha Flight busted out of the re-education camps last month. Train them to do what, you ask? Oh, just to be a powered-armor wearing army that will overthrown the current fascist government of Canada, that’s all. There’s a lot of far-fetched stuff in this one, but you know that, you read the previous sentence. I think I could tolerate the outré turns (Canadian fascists, as if) if there was more forward movement in the characters. For example, we’re almost 20 years past when Northstar came out as gay, and yet all he’s been allowed to do so far is be the arrogant, prickly gay guy. His sister, Aurora, is still battling her various split-personalities, just like it’s 1992 again. Is there nothing else we can do with these characters? Marina’s gone all Hot Topic, Sasquatch is losing his mind, Snowbird’s finally stable emotionally and mentally and Guardian has temporarily lost his wife to extreme craziness — everybody except the twins has moved into new territory. Ah, well. If the pattern holds, I’m really going to like next month’s book.

Demon Knights 2 is a book I didn’t really like last month, despite being a fan of the Demon and also harboring a fondness for the whole swords and sorcery deal. Paul Cornell and Diogenes Neves have our Demon Knights fighting some dinosaurs in a small village while Morgan Le Fey and Mordred try to conquer the world, an effort that the Demon seems committed to obstructing. I admit, issue 2 is a marked improvement. We get the names of all the characters, the Demon gets in a rhyme and Vandal Savage kills and eats a dinosaur (!). There are a couple plot holes here and there, but there’s plenty of action and a stronger sense of who these characters are and why I should care about them. While not great, this is a solid B comic book. I don’t know that DC had to hit the reset button just to create more B comics, but after the thud of last month’s issues, I’ll take the improvements wherever I find ‘em.

Kull: The Cat and the Skull 1 starts a new miniseries for my favorite Robert E. Howard character, with David Lapham and Gabriel Guzman’s adaptation of REH’s short story, “Delcardes’ Cat.” Lapham’s made some structural changes to the story for the sake of bringing more action to it — it’s a weird one, about a cat who talks and tells the future and then bewitches Kull with its prophesying — which I’m all right with in theory. Kull stories are often heavy on atmosphere and low on action, so bumping up the fight quotient is a good idea for a miniseries. And Guzman does a fine job bringing the atmosphere; I really like his depiction of Kull and the great city of Valusia, and his women ain’t bad either. This one’s off to a flying start.

Elric: The Balance Lost 4 seems to be losing its altitude as the series goes on. Chris Roberson’s story brings together four of Michael Moorcock’s iconic fantasy characters (Corum, Hawkmoon, von Bek and Elric), but unfortunately they’re still not actually together, even after four issues — and that’s the problem. Every time you turn the page, you’re jumping into another parallel story centered on one of the four, but the same basic series of events is happening on each page. I get what Roberson’s going for, that these events are playing out simultaneously across the Multiverse, but as a reading experience the entire series has thus far felt like a little kid telling a story, with each turn of the page bringing a new “and then …”. This gives you no time to latch on to any of these guys, effectively keeping you at arm’s length, and I say that as someone who’s read the entirety of these four characters’ published series. The good news is that by the end of this issue, the group has become two sets of two characters fighting evil together, so we’re halfway to some sort of convocation. Let’s hope it doesn’t take four more issues to consecrate this union.

FF 10, however, feels like a return to the Fantastic Four of last year. Jonathan Hickman and Barry Kitson have the old gang coming back together, as Reed returns home in the aftermath of last issue’s epic battle/collapse of all Sue’s hard-won alliances, one of the Evil Reeds heads to Latveria with his prisoner, Victor von Doom, and Spider-Man and Thing return to Avengers Mansion to plot the next move. Hickman plays to his strengths here, finally returning to depicting the relationships of Marvel’s first family and how they shape each character. The second-best part of this book is an extended scene between Reed and Sue in which Sue gently chides Reed for making some dumb decisions in the past few months (assembling a team of supervillian geniuses to do his thinking, headquartering them in the family home, etc.) even as she leads him in the right direction — it’s a married woman trick, don’t try to figure it out if you’re a man, just nod your head and agree, as Reed does here. This is the sort of stuff Hickman does well, and it’s nice to have the soul of the book back as the focus. The first best thing about this issue is, of course, Benjamin J. Grimm making the decision to return to the fold so that he can go about the very important business of pounding some bad guys. I’ve lost track of how many months its been since the Thing has engaged in Clobbering Time in his own book, so this is long overdue as far as I’m concerned. I’m primed to see Ben pointed at a problem that can only be solved with his rocky fists of justice — let’s get this done next month. First Evil Reed, then Doom, ok?

Oh, Amazing Spider-Man 671: Your cover is fanboy pandering of the basest sort, but your insides are the stuff of legend. Dan Slott apparently looked back on the past year of this book and thought to himself, “This has been a pretty good run. You know what would make it better? If I built and detonated a huge bomb of ‘WHAT?’ in the middle of this, and then drowned the whole thing in awesome sauce.” As Peter Parker fights to stop the Jackal from contaminating the entire country with the Spider Virus, the team at Horizon Labs help Reed Richards reverse-engineer a cure for the disease. Slott’s WHAT-bomb comes in the form of finally revealing who the top-secret researcher is in Horizon’s Lab Six — I never would have guessed the answer in six million weeks. The awesome sauce arrives when Reed and Horizon come up with a proven cure, and inadvertently undo something major that happened earlier in Pete’s life — no, not the One More Day thing. This book — THIS BOOK is the reason we all buy comics. Superheroes come in many shapes and sizes, but Dan Slott only writes in one size: Extra-large, gigante fun size.

Northlanders 45 — come on, you know the drill by now. I love Northlanders. Issue 45 features evocative art by Declan Shalvey and the standard, high-quality writing of Brian Wood. There are but five issues left of this series, so there’s little point in telling you how great it is, how distinctive Wood’s characters are or how masterfully he builds a tale from historical fact (the Christian conversion of Iceland) and makes it a powerful work of fiction. Northlanders is the best comic going, but it’s almost gone. I remove it from contention because everything is second place at best compared to this.

So there you have it. Amazing Spider-Man and its ever-unfolding glory is the best thing I read this week that isn’t Northlanders. Long may Dan Slott reign.

-Paul

I recently got a chance to read Adrian Tomine’s “Scenes From an Impending Marriage” and found myself enjoying it more than any other Tomine work to date. A big part of that was the more loosely drawn art in the book. I found the pages coming alive in a way not present in his previous cartooning efforts. I was fond of how elements of Tomine’s normal art style met with these looser qualities as well as nods to elements of cartooning history. When I finished it, I found myself wanting to see more work by Tomine in this vein. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw preview pages for the latest “Optic Nerve” from Drawn & Quarterly presenting similar work.

“Optic Nerve” #12 features two stories. The first, “Hortisculpture,” really embraces this shift in drawing style. The issue’s second tale, “Amber Sweet,” provides much more of a bridge between the style of “Scenes From an Impending Marriage” and his previous work. I found both styles to be strong, though I found myself enjoying the visuals in “Hortisculpture” a bit more. Both stories see Tomine making formalistic experiments. “Hortisculpture” sees Tomine play with the formats of comic strips. Most of the story is comprised of four panel vignettes (with the aid of full page segments every seventh segment) that tie together into a narrative. In “Amber Sweet,” his experimenting doesn’t follow such rigid constraints. In face, the story sees him loosing up a bit as he shifts away a bit from his near-religious dedication to the grid.

Another different aspect of these stories art compared to previous “Optic Nerve” work is both tales including color. The entire tale of “Amber Sweet” is in color and as result sees some stunning results (like the preview page above from BoingBoing’s three page preview of the comic). The coloring in “Hortisculpture” is a bit more dedicated to flat color but looks equally great. “Hortisculpture,” however, limits its color to only its page length segments leaving the rest of the story in black and white. Some solid gray tones and line-based shaping fill out the line work of the stories remaining pages.

If you have noticed, I am three paragraphs in to talking about “Optic Nerve” #12 and I have said very little about the writing. That is mainly due to the artwork strongly outshining the narratives. “Hortisculpture” sees Tomine not only operating outside his artistic comfort zone but sees him telling a story different than much of his previous work. The melancholy story features a middle-aged protagonist chasing a hair-brained scheme of creating art that marries landscaping and sculpture. The comic’s quirky but downbeat story (as well as its formalistic constraints) can’t help but draw comparisons to the work being generated by some of Tomine’s peers like Daniel Clowes, Chris Ware, and Seth. While these other cartoonists have been able to find a distinct voices playing similar elements, Tomine’s fail to capture anything as clearly his own.

“Hortisculpture” and its companion “Amber Sweet” both deal with social isolation, but Tomine seems more comfortable with the trappings of “Amber Sweet.” In the latter, Tomine tells a story of a young woman struggling to deal with how looking similar to the titular porn star “Amber Sweet” effects her socially (especially with men). The comic’s twenty-something lead, the more mundane catalyst for the isolation, and the more urban California setting all seem much more in his wheel house. Even with this more traditionally Tomine story, it still feels a little flat.

I just realized that I haven’t said a word about my favorite part of “Optic Nerve” #12. In its last two pages, Tomine produces a mostly autobiographical comic about continuing to release issues of “Optic Nerve” rather than switching to just making graphic novels. It is filled with the liveliness similar to “Scenes From an Impending Marriage” as well as art resembling that release. It reminds me that I am, at the very least, enjoying that Tomine is experimenting with what kind of comics he wants to make at this stage in his career.

-Nick

A few weeks ago, the fourth and final issue of of “Criminal:The Last of the Innocent” hit stands ending my favorite “Criminal” serial to date. Amazingly, the killer tale is crafted out of homages to both teen comics like Archie and 1950’s EC crime comics. With that unlikely combination creators Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips created what is arguably their seediest story yet.

When I went into the latest storyline, there wasn’t much I knew about it. As it’s murderous plot unraveled itself through its greed and sex-filled pages, I found myself completely lost in its narrative. “Last of the Innocent” is a few shades darker than I typically like my crime tales. Brubaker and Phillips, however, seem to hook me the best when they are at their most unseemly as previously proven with the “Criminal” arc “Bad Night.” Part of that enjoyment is seeing just how far into darkness they will drag the story and the unexpected turns that journey will take. Another, though, is Brubaker’s ability to inject humanizing elements into the stories. As vile as things get between each issue’s covers, “Last of the Innocent” possesses a feeling of nostalgia and a desire redemptive change that are hard to resist connecting with.

One of the keys to capturing that longing for days gone by is Phillips’s art. As much as the series feels like one only Brubaker could write, it equally feels like one only Phillips could draw. “Last of the Innocents” is the series that proves that sentiment. The story asks Phillips to push his art in new stylistic directions and he delivers. His work on the flashback sequences not only convey a feeling of innocence and nostalgia felt by the narrator but also generate a bit of those feelings in the reader as well.

It is great to see comics creators continue to push themselves like Brubaker and Phillips have with “Criminal: The Last of the Innocent.” The end results shows why the comic one of the best being serialized today. New readers and old fans of the series should definitely take the time to track down the issues or grab it in trade when it is released later this year.

-Nick

Welcome to October and the second month of DC’s New 52. It’s time to officially stop calling DC’s mishmash relaunch “new”; the bloom is off that rose, and the comics are just DC’s regular line now. And man, a whole ocean of words were written about DC’s newfound love for sex/nudity/Starfire last month — Laura Hudson over at Comic Alliance pretty much set the highwater mark for intelligent comic book criticism with her column on the issue — but there’s something on that same topic that still bothers me. And that something is Dejah Thoris.

Dejah Thoris 7 is the second chapter in the new Pirates of Mars story arc, and like the preceding six issues, this one balances exposition and action — and a whole lot of cheesecake. I would count myself a fan of all three of Dynamite’s Mars titles, but after reading Hudson’s impassioned and clearly-reasoned explanation of what’s wrong with the sexualization of women in comic books (bottom line: It exists at all, and it’s way too pervasive), I’m wondering if I should like this book so much. Hudson makes the point that much of the art in DC’s big offenders (Red Hood and Catwoman) is about pleasing the male viewer in a rather prurient fashion; it’s not about characterization or the character being a sex-positive woman or even story related. It’s just wish fulfillment for adolescent males. Dejah spends some tied up, and she still wears her double nickels and a hanky outfit, and there are some questionable poses in this.

However, her dinky outfit is more than what her creator, Edgar Rice Burroughs, envisioned her wearing, and on Barsoom what’s good for the goose is good for the gander: All the dudes are buff musclemen who wear Speedos and jewelry and that’s about it. More importantly, Dejah really is the hero of her own book, regularly saving men through her courage, intelligence and skill with a blade. I’d like to believe the clothing equality and Dejah’s own heroic nature makes this book not oppressive — but I don’t know that I’m the one to determine that. I think it’s a solid comic, always entertaining and true to the best parts of the original source material, and I don’t feel like a creep for reading it. I hope that’s the right answer.

Speaking of DC (we were, like 8.000 words ago), Static Shock 2 by Scott McDaniel and John Rozum builds greatly on the groundwork laid in the first issue. Static continues his fight against Virule (a sorta alien-looking assassin) and the Slate Gang (a bunch of teens on Tron’s LightCycles), he exhibits more of his trademark intelligence and problem solving and we discover that in his civilian life, he has a sister who has an exact duplicate of herself that lives with the family because no one can determine which one is the genuine article and which one is the copy. Honestly, I liked the action and Static’s whole super-smart internal monologue, but the bit with his sister hooked me in a huge way. I’m dying to find out more about that whole deal. I don’t want to jinx this, so let’s just say I’m starting to think Static is going to appear regularly in these reviews.

I’m totally throwing caution to the wind with OMAC, however; Keith Giffen and Dan Didio’s take on Jack Kirby’s classic sci-fi super soldier is one of the best new books of the year. Much of my enthusiasm is rooted in Giffen’s art, which is the Kirbyiest looking his work has ever been — I approve whole-heartedly. This issue sees Kevin Kho learning more about what OMAC is (a computer virus that allows him to transform into the super-powerful blue guy with mohawk also called OMAC), who Brother Eye is (a more-than-slightly-menacing AI that infected him with the OMAC and is now using him to further its own ends) and what OMAC stands for (One Machine Attack Construct). This things a thrill ride from start to finish, delving into conspiracy theory, having OMAC brawl with Amazing Man and delivering a surprise on the last page. This is exactly what I want from an OMAC comic. I’m shocked and thrilled that I like this so much.

Turok Son of Stone 4 is also a great comic, but nobody’s reading it. And after this month you can’t read it, because it’s been canceled like all of the other Gold Key revival books Dark Horse was publishing. Ah, well. It was fun while it lasted.

Fun and then some also describes Snarked 1, written and drawn by Roger Langridge. If you missed the 0 issue of this, don’t worry. Everything you need to know is contained within this book. The King is missing, his children Princess Scarlett and Prince Rusty are determined to find him, the King’s advisors are determined to steal power for themselves, and Wilberforce J. Walrus and his pal McDunk are bound and determined to just steal whatever gets them by. Langridge draws his inspiration from the works of Lewis Carrol (there’s a certain smiling cat who appears this month) as well as the great comedians of yore (W.J. Walrus bears more than a passing resemblance to W.C. Fields, and Dudley Moore & Peter Cook make a cameo as well). There’s more than a whiff of classic E.C. Segar to Langridge’s art; Langridge has a more cartoony style, but the resemblance is unmistakable. So to sum up, Snarked is a witty, funny, smart adventure story in the style of the Golden Age of Sunday funnies — I don’t know that it gets much better than that.

And yet, I find myself shocked to admit that OMAC is the best thing I read this week. It pays homage to Kirby’s original creation while charting its own course, and it really and truly is a fantastic superhero comic book — and no women are denigrated within its pages.

-Paul