I still remember when DC published the revamp of The Ray back in the early ’90s, with Jack C. Harris and Joe Quesada taking the core concept and creating Ray Terrill, a new character with the power [...]]]> Written by Jimmy Palmiotti and Justin Gray
Penciled by Jamal Igle
Inked by Rich Perrotta
32 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

I still remember when DC published the revamp of The Ray back in the early ’90s, with Jack C. Harris and Joe Quesada taking the core concept and creating Ray Terrill, a new character with the power to transform into and manipulate light. With this new The Ray mini-series 20 years later, I’m getting a similar vibe from Jimmy Palmiotti, Justin Gray, and Jamal Igle. And that’s a very good thing indeed.

Palmiotti and Gray’s main character of Lucien Gates opens his mini-series with an internal monologue to the reader, saying that the audience probably wants his origin story, because everyone has one, no matter how ridiculous. He then goes on to mention that at the moment, he’s fighting gigantic telepathic jellyfish. And that, to me, sums up The Ray. The writing here is light and fun, as we see that the accident that gave Lucien his superpowers also did all sorts of other strange things, like creating a two-story tell horned lizard, or the previously mentioned flying telepathic gigantic jellyfish. A lot of this story feels like an excuse to whip up bizarre things and throw them both at the reader and the main character.

Palmiotti and Gray write The Ray in a conversational, almost intimate style. It gives you the sensation that you’re being sat down with the main character and are listening to his rambling, never-ending saga. It’s a style that in comics is probably best associated with Christopher Priest’s work on comics like Quantum & Woody and Black Panther; since Priest himself wrote an ongoing The Ray series (and edited the Harris/Quesada mini-series), it’s a rather fitting approach to take. This also isn’t a book that too concerned with the normal trappings of superhero books. The Ray focuses less on the flying mutant manta rays, and more on how Lucien’s trying to make his girlfriend Chanti’s parents like him (despite the fact that he’s not Indian, but in fact of Korean descent). And as a hook, I like it. Lucien and Chanti’s relationship feels real, and Lucien’s fumbling through figuring out his powers (controlled in part by meditation and yoga practices his hippy mother taught him) and how to deal with the fact that putting on clothes causes them to incinerate is entertaining. There’s something about The Ray‘s breezy style that makes me wish that this had been one of the launch titles for DC’s "New 52," because this is the sort of ongoing series I’d cheerfully read every month.

Igle’s pencils are, as always, attractive. He’s got a good sense of anatomy (and let’s face it, as Lucien keeps vaporizing his clothes initially, we see a lot of anatomy here), the backgrounds look good, and most importantly Igle is able to bring across the sensation of speed whenever Lucien uses his power. Every time the Ray zooms off, it feels genuinely fast; considering this is a print medium, that’s no small feat. There are lots of good little touches too; the faint wrinkles around Lucien’s father’s eyes, for instance, or how a hovering Lucien is drawn in a streamlined manner that matches up with the diagonal zap of light in the next panel over.

I’m actually a tiny bit disappointed that we’re halfway through The Ray mini-series. This is fun, pure and simple, and Palmiotti, Gray, and Igle feel like they’re paying homage to the old Ray comics while still defining their own title character. The Ray might not be getting a snazzy "New 52" logo on its cover, but trust me, this is one of the better new comics to launch from the company these past few months. If you’re looking for a fun, darkness-free comic (both figuratively and literally), you can’t go wrong with The Ray.

Justice League Dark is simultaneously one of the stranger and more logical books from DC Comics’ re-launch. With characters like John Constantine, Madame Xanadu, and Shade the Changing Man now back in the main DC Universe (while in the case of Constantine, still [...]]]> Written by Peter Milligan
Art by Mikel Janin
32 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

Justice League Dark is simultaneously one of the stranger and more logical books from DC Comics’ re-launch. With characters like John Constantine, Madame Xanadu, and Shade the Changing Man now back in the main DC Universe (while in the case of Constantine, still continuing his mature-readers Hellblazer comic), it was just a matter of time until they all teamed up. Having them in their own Justice League comic, and written by Vertigo mainstay Peter Milligan? It’s so strange it could just possibly work.

The book opens in a fairly standard manner; introduce the characters one-by-one, putting each of them in different places and situations and then slowly inching them all towards one another. While few of them get to do much, they all get their little character moments. Shade is shown as the unbalanced madman, Enchantress as the dangerous being, Madame Xanadu as the voice of calm, and so on.

Shade is the only one that truly stands out, but considering the modern version of the character was created by Milligan, that’s not much of a surprise. Ironically, the only one that feels a little eyebrow raising is this DC Universe version of John Constantine; perhaps because Milligan’s so used to writing him in Hellblazer, this one feels almost (but thankfully not quite) like Dick Van Dyke’s fake cockney character from Mary Poppins. At least he doesn’t actually say "crikey," although his brief cameo comes close.

The big superstar of Justice League Dark #1 is Mikel Janin, who feels like the next generation of Gene Ha. Janin’s art is packed with detail, from a crazy multi-car pile-up on the freeway, to candles and stained glass windows in the background as Madame Xanadu and her cards make their first appearance. Fortunately he’s more than just a "pack all the detail in you can" kind of guy. I love the petrified look on poor Kathy’s face as her reality is revealed, and the crazy emaciated form of the Enchantress comes across as menacing.

What pleased me the most about Janin’s art, though, is how well he’s able to draw the truly strange. Not many artists get a script telling them to assault Superman, Wonder Woman, and Cyborg with hundreds of flying teeth, but Janin draws it like it’s something he has to handle all the time. It’s creepy and menacing, and it gives us a strong reassurance that Janin is up to the challenge of drawing the odder nature of Justice League Dark.

Having the actual Justice League make an appearance here was a little surprising, but I feel like Milligan’s already shown us where he’s going with their guest star role. As the three Justice Leagers get buried under the teeth, it’s a reminder that all three are out of their element. It’s the beginning of a justification for Justice League Dark‘s team to exist, no doubt to tackle the far out and bizarre menaces that the Justice League isn’t well-equipped to fight. It works as well as any other idea to get them together, and more importantly, it lets us see the Justice League buried under a pile of teeth. That’s always a nice change of pace.

Justice League Dark #1 was an entertaining debut, and the script was good enough to make me want to read a second issue. More importantly, though, Janin’s art is just beautiful. I have a sneaking feeling that even if the script hadn’t been up to par, I’d have been back for Justice League Dark #2. It’s no surprise that DC Comics just hired Janin to an exclusive contract; with art this good, I’d want to make sure he stuck around for a long time, too. This is a fun new book.

Poor Wonder Woman. A lot of high-profile creators have taken stabs at the character over the past decade or two (J. Michael Straczynski, Gail Simone, Jodi Picoult, Allan Heinberg, Greg Rucka, Phil Jimenez, John Byrne, to name just a few), but none have [...]]]> Written by Brian Azzarello
Art by Cliff Chiang
32 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

Poor Wonder Woman. A lot of high-profile creators have taken stabs at the character over the past decade or two (J. Michael Straczynski, Gail Simone, Jodi Picoult, Allan Heinberg, Greg Rucka, Phil Jimenez, John Byrne, to name just a few), but none have managed to create a definitive, high-excitement run that kept its momentum going. Next up are Brian Azzarello and Cliff Chiang, who both have the benefit and hindrance of getting the opportunity to start as much or as little from scratch as they wish. The end result? If I didn’t know better I’d think this was a hot new Vertigo series debut.

What’s fun about Wonder Woman #1, right from the start, is that Azzarello has brought his own voice and take on the comic which both fits with what we’ve seen before, but at the same time could just as easily be the start of something utterly brand new. At its core is the most important parts of Wonder Woman for me; a strong, self-assured main character, and the influence of the Greek gods. The latter might not sound like much, but when the title was rebooted in 1986, George Perez, Greg Potter, and Len Wein’s addition of the gods into a major part of the title is one of those pieces that fit in perfectly. After all, both the Amazons and Wonder Woman herself have major connections to the Greek gods in their origins, and it helps set the character apart from most other superheroes. And here, we’ve got gods galore: a rendition of Apollo with dark, rocky features by night and bursts into flame in the morning; a bird-footed, willowy Hermes; a peacock-cloaked Hera who leaves weapons and destruction in her wake. All three are instantly memorable (especially Apollo), and I like Azzarello’s twists on them. Azzarello dips into Apollo’s portfolio to remember his influence over oracles for a grim two-page opening that then is threaded throughout the comic—another reminder that seeing the future is not always a good thing—and the modern take on Hermes’ helmet and winged sandals is a clever one.

But more importantly, Wonder Woman herself is good here. She doesn’t get a lot to do, with more focus on new character Zola, but it’s still a surprisingly good introduction. She’s short on words but no nonsense; as she fights the beings surrounding her and Zola, you are instantly given the impression that this is someone who is not easily stoppable. Wonder Woman is supposed to be one of the most powerful characters of DC Comics, and it’s a pleasant reminder here that she’s one of the "big three" characters for a reason. When Wonder Woman tells Zola in her home, "You’re safe here," you can tell that she doesn’t just mean it, she knows it to be true.

Just as important to this debut issue of Wonder Woman is Chiang’s art, which is crisply drawn and beautiful from start to finish. When it comes to motion, Chiang’s got it down to a science. Just look at the three panel sequence where Wonder Woman takes down a centaur running away from her. First we get the heft of the blade, then in the second panel a tight focus on Wonder Woman right as she’s thrown it. We don’t need to see the sword leave her hand, or even her hand itself. The way she’s got her mouth open and leaning forward, the motion lines around her arm, it’s clear what has just happened. And sure enough, in the third panel, we have the sword whipping through the air. Not only do we get a strong sense of movement in that panel with the multiple images of the sword, but Chiang has lined it up with the second panel so that at a glance it actually looks like it is moving away from her body.

Of course, the figures themselves look fantastic. As Wonder Woman suits up for battle she’s got a beautiful, confident expression on her face, doubled up with the way that she puts her iconic bracelets onto her arms. The previously mentioned redesigns of the gods look great, making them both alien and human at the same time. And Zola gets a lot of attention from Chiang; with just a few lines we get everything from panic to anger to fear echoing across her face. Best of all, even though some characters are in various states of undress throughout the comic, Wonder Woman never comes across as sleazy or exploitative. If I had to describe how Chiang’s characters looked in two words, beautiful and strong would probably the the ones chosen.

Wonder Woman #1 is a big success. It’s recognizably the right character, and it’s a good take on her iconic nature. The story moves briskly, has a good cliffhanger, and it feels like it’s heading towards something even bigger. Without the Wonder Woman name or costume, I could see the ideas here being used in a totally different comic and being a success, but having Wonder Woman star in it adds an extra little punch to the story that makes it all click together. I feel like Azzarello and Chiang have a clear, distinct vision for the character, and hopefully they’ll be delivering it to readers for some time to come. While Wonder Woman #1 serves well as a template to follow, I think I’d be much happier with them just providing the end product month in and month out.

Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. is one of the odder choices from DC Comics to be part of the big re-launch of their line. A comic about a group of classic monsters working for a secret organization to stop strange things is hardly the [...]]]> Written by Jeff Lemire
Art by Alberto Ponticelli
32 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. is one of the odder choices from DC Comics to be part of the big re-launch of their line. A comic about a group of classic monsters working for a secret organization to stop strange things is hardly the sort of book that feels commercial, after all. But for readers who aren’t scared off by analogues of the Wolfman or the Creature from the Black Lagoon, there’s enough in Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #1 to make this title feel like it fits in with the larger DC Universe.

Writer Jeff Lemire is in a strange position with Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E.; despite this being the first issue of the series, he actually got an earlier stab at the title this summer with the three-issue miniseries Flashpoint: Frankenstein and the Creature Commandos. Looking back now, that story felt like a warm-up rather than an actual prelude. Leaving out the more important fact that Creature Commandos was set in an alternate timeline and "didn’t happen" in regards to Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E., this newer series feels like it’s taking a slightly different and potentially more interesting tactic than its predecessor.

Here, Lemire is playing up the strangeness factor of Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. After all, this is a character that got brought back into the spotlight a few years ago courtesy Grant Morrison and Doug Mahnke in the Seven Soldiers mini-series, and that pair of writer and artist exude nothing both strangeness whatever they work on. So here, we get a barrage of big concepts and creations in the first handful of pages; a headquarters hovering above the Earth that you need to be both teleported and also shrunken into, humanoids created for 24 hours that are then absorbed back into headquarters, an aging leader randomly regenerated into the form of a little girl. It feels almost like Morrison’s Doom Patrol on fast-forward, with Lemire throwing out these ideas in rapid succession to try and grab the reader’s attention before they can catch their breath and look away from the comic. So far, the idea feels like it’s working. It’s not the smoothest of information dumps at times (although the S.H.A.D.E. Net computer answering Frankenstein’s questions throughout the comic is a nice touch), but there are enough little sparks throughout the comic that I felt myself nodding along with the different ideas. It balances out the only-slight bits of characterization for the supporting cast, but since they only even show up at the halfway point of the first issue, I’m willing to cut Lemire a bit of slack on that front.

Alberto Ponticelli is an interesting choice for Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E., in no small part because Ponticelli’s art style is quite similar to Lemire’s. Both draw in that raggedy, textured style that is full of excess lines and edges; it’s the antithesis of smooth. (Why they then put the incredibly-smooth-lines of J.G. Jones on the cover is slightly beyond me, mind you.) It’s a good choice for Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E., with the S.H.A.D.E. headquarters coming across as dingy and almost alien, or the ghoul invasion in the town feeling that much more violent and dangerous. And boy oh boy, can Ponticelli draw monsters. One big difference between Ponticelli and Lemire’s art, though, is that Ponticelli’s feels a tiny bit more exaggerated in places. It actually brings to mind the deliberate grotesqueness of Mahnke’s art when drawing the character years ago, and it feels like Ponticelli is trying to bridge the gap between then and now.

Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #1 is a solid debut. I’d like to see more about the supporting cast, but as an opening issue it achieves its purpose. We get an instant feel for this monsters-fighting-bigger-monsters series, and the hints of strangeness to come is an attraction. Lemire’s proven on books like Sweet Tooth and Animal Man that he’s not afraid to go down strange paths, and I fully expect Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. to show us more and the same. I’ll be back next month, absolutely.

There’s something odd and initially off-putting about a book that is pitched as, "The Batman of Africa." Why Africa seems to get repeatedly lumped into a single region while similarly diverse continents don’t is beyond me (there’s much more respect for the different [...]]]> Writen by Judd Winick
Art by Ben Oliver
32 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

There’s something odd and initially off-putting about a book that is pitched as, "The Batman of Africa." Why Africa seems to get repeatedly lumped into a single region while similarly diverse continents don’t is beyond me (there’s much more respect for the different areas of Europe or Asia, for instance), but at the same time there’s so little in American comics set on this continent that my curiosity got the better of me. As it turned out, I’m glad it did; it’s a book that I suspect won’t be long for this world, but was definitely worthy of some attention.

Judd Winick sets Batwing in Tinasha, a fictional city in the Democratic Republic of Congo. It’s described as "one of the most crime-ridden cities in all of Africa," a phrase that made me instantly think of Hub City in The Question, which isn’t a bad direction in which to go. Winick does fall into the trap of having his characters constantly refer to all of Africa as a single unit, though, despite the fact that they’re living in a country that’s a quarter the size of the United States. That’s more than large enough in its own right to have its inhabitants refer to their own country rather than an entire continent that’s quite varied in culture, language, people, and just about anything else you can think of.

Once you get past that distracting fact, though? Aside from some pacing issues, it’s a solid opening. Winick opens the comic with a brief fight between Batwing and a new villain named Massacre, before shifting back into flashback to begin telling the story of how we got to this point. Lead character David Zavimbe comes across a bit slight, but with room for growth; one of those people who is clearly good at his job and as a police officer, a ripe choice to become Batwing. The scene with him and Batman is in some ways "Superheroing 101" as David learns how to use the costume and the mask to frighten wrong-doers, and the sort of attitude and mystique needed to make himself an effective hero.

Winick is also trying to create a history for superheroes on the African continent, with the invention of the Kingdom, a seven-person superhero team that operated across Africa and specifically helped free the Democratic Republic of Congo. While it’s a little hard to buy the death of Earth Strike from the group as part of the central mystery (the lack of a body to be identified as his makes it more than likely that Earth Strike really isn’t dead), it is at least a small hook to make readers interested in what’s to come. That’s a good thing, since the cliffhanger is still set in the flashback and we already know that Batwing is going to survive the otherwise violent moment at the end of the issue.

The bigger attraction for most readers, I suspect, will be Ben Oliver’s art, coupled with Brian Reber’s colors. The two have created a spacious, larger-than-life look for Batwing; lots of diagonal-shaped panels that stretch across the page, and with a sharp look into how colors, shadows, and outlines work together to create something stronger. Oliver’s faces look at times like photographs in their stark realism; as he zooms the view in on a villain’s eyes, you can actually see the terror building in them. And while a cloaked-in-darkness image of Batman rising up is hardly unique, Oliver and Reber still make it look awe-inspiring, which is a particularly nice touch.

A comic launching a new character (save for a brief appearance in Batman Incorporated), set in an African nation instead of the United States, and in the same month as 51 other new and revamped titles? Let’s be honest, the deck is stacked firmly against Batwing. But it’s a good enough beginning, although I do wish we’d had a bit more happen in this first issue. I fear it could be the inadvertent death knell of the title right out of the gate; with so many other books to compete for attention from the reader, this slow start might not be enough to bring readers back for a second helping. For now, though, consider me curious enough to read a second issue. I’d like to see this be the little book that could.

I was a fan of Static ever since I read Static #1 back in the early ’90s. Dwayne McDuffie was a regular poster on the GEnie computer network’s Comics RoundTable, [...]]]> Written by Scott McDaniel and John Rozum
Penciled by Scott McDaniel
Inked by Jonathan Glapion and Le Beau Underwood
32 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

I was a fan of Static ever since I read Static #1 back in the early ’90s. Dwayne McDuffie was a regular poster on the GEnie computer network’s Comics RoundTable, and he’d been telling us all about the Milestone Media books for months leading up to their release. And while I enjoyed all four of the launch titles, it was Static that felt like the breakout hit. So with that in mind, reading the new Static Shock #1, I feel like it’s safe to say that Scott McDaniel and John Rozum are showing us that Static is in good hands.

McDaniel and Rozum have wisely relocated Virgil and his family from Dakota to New York; it lets them (and the readers) start fresh with a new mix of characters and situations. So now Virgil’s going to school by day, working at S.T.A.R. Labs afternoons, and moonlighting as the hero Static by night. It’s a good basic setup, and it lets them pull a bit of a fish-out-of-water routine with Static while still letting him keep his strong skills and abilities instead of being reverted to a new hero.

McDaniel and Rozum have Static’s fast patter down pat; his mouth was always the most lethal of his abilities in the old comic, and it’s nice to see that he’s still wise-cracking and insulting everyone around him even as he flies through the air and zaps his enemies. I also like the amount of science showing up; Virgil’s supposed to be smart, so having actual scientific principles being a part of the comic is a nice touch. (Longtime Milestone fans will also be happy to see Hardware making an appearance as Virgil’s new confidant and benefactor; a perfect role for the character.)

Best of all, though, is that we’ve still got Virgil’s family as major characters in Static Shock. Watching Virgil go up against his parents and sister was always fun, if only because they were the three that he never truly could defeat. His sister Sharon’s still got that vinegar streak going through her, and as for Mrs. Hawkins, well… I know I certainly wouldn’t cross her. Hopefully in future issues we’ll also start to see some of Virgil’s new school, the only element that’s missing so far.

McDaniel’s pencils are clean and attractive here, and I like that he sticks with a basic layout for the everyday scenes, but goes for more energetic arrangements when it’s superhero time. In general, though, the energy is high here; Static whips through the air with grace, and his chasing down Sunspot works in part because of the way that McDaniel draws it. I also appreciate that McDaniel draws Virgil in his civilian guise with just as much attention and detail. His non-superhero life is an important part of the character, and it’s good to see that just as much fleshed out.

Static Shock #1 is one of those comics where it’s just good solid fun. It’s not mind-bending or radically different, but just like the original Static comics, it succeeds by simply aiming to be fun and entertaining. With McDaniel and Rozum already hard at work on creating a new rogue’s gallery for Static, this feels to me a lot like old Amazing Spider-Man comics, and that’s a good thing. With all of the new titles being launched from DC this month, this is one that doesn’t deserve to be lost in the shuffle. It might not be flashy, but it’s good through and through. Check it out.

I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that the best thing about DC’s Flashpoint mini-series event isn’t the main story itself, but rather all of the Elseworlds-esque mini-series that are spun out of it. One of the most promising ones just from the announcements [...]]]> Written by Brian Azzarello
Art by Eduardo Risso
32 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that the best thing about DC’s Flashpoint mini-series event isn’t the main story itself, but rather all of the Elseworlds-esque mini-series that are spun out of it. One of the most promising ones just from the announcements was Batman: Knight of Vengeance, thanks to it reuniting Brian Azzarello, Eduardo Risso, Patricia Mulvihill, and Dave Johnson. And now that it’s out? Well, it’s quite frankly exactly what you would expect from the creative team of 100 Bullets.

Azzarello was given a Batman where Bruce Wayne died with his mother in that alleyway, and it was his father Thomas Wayne that survived and eventually became Batman. Azzarello seizes on this concept as one that would create a radically different Batman for us to read about; instead of a young boy whose life is reshaped by the loss of his parents in front of him, rebuilding his life to stop crime, we have a father whose son died in front of him and whom will do anything to stop the criminals as he wallows in grief over his lost family. This is a Batman who will leave a machete embedded firmly in the skull of Killer Croc without batting an eye, and has opened up a series of casinos to draw the criminal families in and try to control them that way. Azzarello makes sure to write him as a different character than Bruce, and from his opening confrontation with his psychiatrist to his actions in the Batman costume, it’s hard to ever try and confuse the pair.

Tonally, it’s hard to keep from comparing Knight of Vengeance to 100 Bullets, and with good reason. It’s grim and dark, although not without the occasional spark of dark humor to buoy the reader through. From Azzarello and Risso, Gotham City is less New York and much more a run-down incarnation of Chicago, with bridges carrying people over those left down below, and the further toward the ground you travel, the more dilapidated the city becomes. Given free reign to do what they want in Knight of Vengeance, they’ve transformed it into something compelling.

Risso’s art is just as beautiful as I remember it from 100 Bullets, with clear figures that can straddle the line between carefully composed portraits and cartoonish caricatures, depending on the situation. Gilda Dent’s mascara running down her face looks more like a mask than something we’d see in real life, but the image is still striking and memorable in bringing across her grief. And when we descend into the sewers, Risso and Mulvihill make it a dingy and grime-filled trip to hell. From the rising hulk of Killer Croc to the squalor around Croc’s captives, it’s a perfectly drawn sequence.

Looking at Flashpoint as a chance to serve up some Elseworlds stories is ultimately the way to go. In many ways, Knight of Vengeance #1 has whetted my appetite for their upcoming Spaceman far more than the teaser in Strange Adventures did. It’s nice to be reminded that Azzarello, Risso, Mulvihill, and Johnson all still have got it, and then some. Don’t worry about that Flashpoint logo at the top of the book; this is a thoroughly enjoyable comic.

Chris Roberson has gone off the marked path, so to speak. Several months ago, he came on board Superman as a co-writer, to finish up J. Michael Straczynski’s "Grounded" storyline off of an outline, while Straczynski [...]]]> Written by J. Michael Straczynski and Chris Roberson
Penciled by Eddy Barrows
Inked by J.P. Mayer
32 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

Chris Roberson has gone off the marked path, so to speak. Several months ago, he came on board Superman as a co-writer, to finish up J. Michael Straczynski’s "Grounded" storyline off of an outline, while Straczynski departed the title (as well as Wonder Woman) to spend more time working on a sequel graphic novel to Superman: Earth One. And while I’ve been having a sneaking suspicion that "Grounded" has gone in a rather different direction than originally planned with the arrival of Roberson, this latest installment is in many ways the ultimate example of the new direction.

The early chapters of "Grounded" could best be described as human interest stories. Superman walks across the country, encounters local people’s problems (immigration, domestic abuse, heart failure, that sort of thing) and tries to find a way to help. With the arrival of Roberson, though, things have changed. You can still see what must have been the germ of a chapter idea from the original outline still showing up, but from there it veers into a different direction, big time. For example, Superman #711′s main plot has to do with the electrically-powered Livewire going berserk in Las Vegas, and Superman trying to find a way to pull her back from destroying everything in her radius. But aside from getting the key to the city of Provo, Utah, and the mysterious despair-causing villain from the earlier chapters making a return appearance, there’s nothing else to connect this to the rest of "Grounded," or at least not the Straczynski-solo issues. Delete the mystery villain and this issue could have been told at just about any time in Superman.

Is that a bad thing? In this case, no. It’s an entertaining story, taking developments from the last few years with Livewire (but not making having read those stories necessary) and building on them, as well as coming up with an idea for her erratic behavior and presumably different portrayals from different writers. The science in the story may well be pseudo-science, but it feels logical enough to follow. It’s a fun little tale, and one that demonstrates Roberson as being someone who should clearly be in the running to write Superman with #715 (theoretically the first post-"Grounded" issue) when it rolls around in a few months. The only part of the story that doesn’t quite click is, ultimately, the "Grounded" element with the annoying villain’s appearance. After getting spotted by surprise guest star Iron Munro (who clearly is suspicious of her, based on his own dialogue), she’s suddenly ignored for no real reason, save for perhaps that the outline dictates she isn’t being pursued by Superman himself just yet. Considering that the character in general feels grafted on to the story, it’s no surprise that it’s the weak spot in the writing.

Penciler Eddy Barrows is providing a slightly erratic look to the art in Superman. There are some pages where it works well, Barrows drawing the characters in a realistic, interesting manner. On other pages, though, we get strange shifts; Superman suddenly appears to have expanded to the size of a barrel, or Jimmy Olsen looks like a child rather than an adult. (I did appreciate that Barrows kept Olsen’s hair style from the slight redesign provided by R.B. Silva over in Action Comics last year.) And when Superman flies off with Jimmy, well, is it just me or have we seen this expression on Superman’s face every month courtesy Barrows? Overall it’s not a bad art style, but more variety on faces and more consistency on bodies would make me more interested in the art month in and month out.

Superman #711 is the kind of issue that makes me wish we could somehow get to see the outline that Roberson is working off of. It certainly comes off to the reader as far from what "Grounded" was in Straczynski’s mind for the second half of its run. Based on how much better these Roberson-helmed issues are, though? I can’t help but think this swerve into new territory is a good thing for readers.

Where do story characters go when their series are over? Mike Carey and Peter Gross’s series The Unwritten has over the past two years explored the between-the-pages lives of fictional characters, secret societies that manipulate the written world, and the [...]]]> Written by Mike Carey
Layouts by Peter Gross
Finishes by Al Davison
32 pages, color
Published by Vertigo/DC Comics

Where do story characters go when their series are over? Mike Carey and Peter Gross’s series The Unwritten has over the past two years explored the between-the-pages lives of fictional characters, secret societies that manipulate the written world, and the strange relationship between a story and the real world. One of the most memorable issues of the series, though, was The Unwritten #12 where Carey and Gross introduced us to Pauly, a human transformed into a rabbit and trapped inside a thin analogue of the Winnie the Pooh universe. Now he’s back, and this time he’s going to drag all the other characters into hell with him.

Set on a possibly-infinite staircase that winds up and down between worlds (slightly similar to the Dark Tower, also drawn by Gross, in The Books of Magic), Carey’s setting is one of hope amidst despair. It’s interesting to look at the way that the characters trapped and looking for an exit to the real world interact with one another, versus with the real-world refugee of Pauly. Without the intruder, the characters are locked into the core of their initial creation; Quark Maiden (who bears more than a little similarity to the Snorkmaiden from Moomins) is hopeful and full of dreams, Badger is slightly gruff but an impeccable leader, and so on. Their never-ending quest is to the outside observer just that, but they push on with enthusiasm and determination.

Then Pauly appears, and once again he’s the bad apple that ruins everything. Conflicts and death, abandonments and abuses, it’s nothing good when it’s attached to Pauly. He’s in many ways the anti-Mary Sue; inserted unwillingly into a fiction, he’s everything negative and disastrous to the characters around him. With his destruction of the staircase behind them, he’s both figuratively and literally keeping the characters from retreating to their own worlds, to revert to what they were. And so, as the climb continues, the party shifts and changes. It’s a sad, slightly grim story, even as it’s intriguing in terms of the greater cosmology of The Unwritten. Carey’s proven (both here and in other stories) that there are no throw-away moments or characters, and sooner or later I wouldn’t be surprised to see follow-up. Perhaps in The Unwritten #36?

Gross is aided this month with finishes from Al Davison. While they’re both excellent artists in their own right, this mixture of their styles is a case of the sum being greater than the total of its parts. Gross gives us the feel of the dizzying staircase, branching and twisting from level to level and the hordes of sentient animals marching through its confines. With Davison, though, there’s a softer edge to the art than we normally have from Gross. It helps disarm you as a reader, seeing the cuteness of the creatures and making some of the scenes that much more jarring. Davison helps make sure that Pauly looks especially creepy here, with his red eyes, snarling expressions, and a generally ragged appearance. He might be a rabbit, but he always feels slightly out of place with the rest of the storybook characters, as he should.

The Unwritten #24 takes a snippet of what could be an infinite journey for characters, and makes it simultaneously satisfying and ominous. Carey, Gross, and Davison end the comics (and presumably the upcoming Volume 4 collection) on an uneasy note, a statement of hope being laid next to an image of impossibility. The story might be a one-off moment, but it’s a chapter of The Unwritten that regular readers of the series—myself included—will remember for quite some time.

Purchase Links (Vol. 1): Amazon.com | Powell’s Books
Purchase Links (Vol. 2): Amazon.com | Powell’s Books
Purchase Links (Vol. 3): Amazon.com | Powell’s Books
Purchase Links (Vol. 4): Amazon.com | Powell’s Books

Once a year or so, when I’m looking at comics, I’ll find myself wondering why there currently isn’t an ongoing (and wildly successful) Suicide Squad series, preferably written by John Ostrander. It’s a simple [...]]]> Written by John Ostrander
Penciled by Luke McDonnell
Inked by Bob Lewis, Karl Kesel, and Dave Hunt
232 pages, color
Published by DC Comics

Once a year or so, when I’m looking at comics, I’ll find myself wondering why there currently isn’t an ongoing (and wildly successful) Suicide Squad series, preferably written by John Ostrander. It’s a simple but easy to understand premise (a government black ops team, partially staffed by criminals in exchange for lesser sentences), and the possibility for different characters to appear left and right is fairly limitless. Hopefully this long-awaited first volume of Suicide Squad reprints will drum up some interest, because a strong revival is long overdue.

I haven’t read my copies of Suicide Squad in well over a decade, but I was surprised at how well the comic still held up. This initial volume reprints Suicide Squad #1-8 plus an introduction in the form of Secret Origins #14. It’s that last one (which opens the collection) that I’d never read before, and it’s almost a shame that it’s the first story in the book because it’s also the weakest. It’s a history of the Squad, explaining how it came out and also the life story of its commander, Rick Flag. It’s an unusually dry opening story, perhaps because so much of it is a summary of older comics from three decades earlier. (It is slightly amusing that after so much time spent on the earlier incarnation of the team and Rick Flag’s life, the modern Squad’s first appearance in the big mini-series Legends is summarized in one page.) Once that’s done, though, Ostrander hits the ground running and never looks back.

Part of the appeal of Suicide Squad is that Ostrander’s "playground" is mammoth. From stopping the terrorist cult Kobra, to a trip beyond the Iron Curtain to rescue a political dissident (after all, this was published during the Cold War), and even an appearance by Darkseid’s Female Furies from Apokolips, Ostrander is able to use all sorts of different settings and threats to keep the book lively and interesting. That large playground also includes a huge pool of potential characters to appear in the book; essentially, any super-villain who wasn’t actively appearing elsewhere. And true to the name of the book, there’s the continual threat of characters not coming back from a mission to keep the readers guessing. A book about a black ops would get unbelievable if they all made it through each mission in perfect health.

The choice of characters used for Suicide Squad goes a long way. Ostrander has a code group immediately established—Rick Flag, Bronze Tiger, Deadshot, Captain Boomerang, Enchantress, Nightshade, and Nemesis—and then supplements them with additional faces chosen to be useful to the mission. It’s a smart tactic; having a complete turnover on each mission (one of the mistakes made with Keith Giffen’s short-lived revival ten years ago) means a lack of caring on the part of the reader for the team. Here, you quickly develop favorites, while a fun group of extras pad out the roster. Ostrander gives a lot of attention in this first volume to the character of the Enchantress, with a Jekyll-and-Hyde issue regarding her powers. It’s easy to feel sympathy for June (the good, non-powered half) as she struggles to control the Enchantress, and Ostrander quickly has the readers understand that the character is a ticking time bomb, and an eventual betrayal is best not described with an if, but a when. Other characters like Deadshot and Captain Boomerang are also quickly getting their personalities established that would carry them into fan favorites, even as Nightshade and Nemesis serve to remind the reader that for genuine good people on board this is a dangerous and slightly unpleasant job.

And of course, Suicide Squad gives us Amanda Waller, the bureaucrat in charge of the team. Here it’s easy to see why "the Wall" became such a popular and long-lasting character. The first glimmers of ruthlessness are already beginning to appear here, and her spotlight in the reprint of Secret Origins helps to show us how this is a woman who will not only rise up from adversity to get stronger, but that there’s nothing she won’t achieve when she puts her mind to it. For a character that doesn’t go on missions as an active member, it’s impressive how much of a central piece of the book Waller becomes. It helps that Ostrander regularly focuses on the lives of the people that make up the Squad in a series of stories titled "Personal Files." The first one closes out Suicide Squad: Trial by Fire, and it’s probably one of the best parts of this first book. Ostrander shows us what they do when not on missions, and makes this group more than just a bunch of names and costumes. It makes you want to cheer (or boo) them all on, and makes their upcoming victories and defeats that much more important.

The book is penciled by Luke McDonnell, whose art is fine but ultimately nothing special. It’s in many ways the epitome of mid-’80s superhero comic art; clean lines, solid page layouts, good but not very memorable character designs. To be fair, most of the characters already had looks that were inherited from other comics, but none the less it’s a very average looking comic. Still, it’s easy to follow, and I never felt from start to finish like the art was working against the story; it’s just that McDonnell’s art will also never turn your head. It’s dependable and there’s nothing wrong with it, so that certainly rises it a head and shoulders above many other artists in the industry at that time.

This reprint has been a long time coming (DC Comics twice solicited and then cancelled a Showcase Presents edition of the book), but it genuinely was worth the wait. With a second collection scheduled for this fall, it gives me hope that some day I’ll be able to have a bookshelf full of Suicide Squad collections. Knowing the best is yet to come (especially once the late, great Kim Yale officially steps on board as co-writer) makes me that much more eager. These days books like Secret Six are definitely taking their lead from territory that Suicide Squad tread earlier; this comic was always slightly ahead of its time. If you’ve never tried Suicide Squad before, you’ve got a lot of great reading up ahead. I can’t wait for the next volume. More, please.

Purchase Links: Amazon.com | Powell’s Books