Divergence and Daredevil at Primary Ignition!

Today's post is mostly a plug, as I haven't written a new post in a couple of weeks, and those of you who follow me on Twitter already know about the news I have to present here. Simply put, primaryignition.com is up and running again, with Rob Siebert at the helm once more, and I've returned with him.

Two new reviews with my name in the byline have been published, with more to come. The first such review was on Divergence #1, a Free Comic Book Day issue that DC Comics put out for the occasion, featuring new happenings with Batman, Superman, and the Justice League.

The second such review was on Marvel's Daredevil, a new Netflix original series based on the comic book property of the same name. It's pretty much what I always wanted from a live-action treatment of Batman, but just wasn't possible even in the Nolan films.

In sum, go read these reviews and get my rambling opinions on this stuff, straight from the horse's mouth. I assure you, gentle readers, new blog posts are on the way!

Also, happy Mother's Day to all of you mothers out there. Hi, mum.

Superman: Birthright and Superman for All Seasons: A Tale of Two Takes on an Icon

Author's Note: I am holding off on my long-promised post on the Air Nomads and Religious Vegetarianism, for the sake of obtaining more in-depth information about the subject. Until then, please enjoy this post about Superman.

I've written about Superman movies before, but I've never really written about Superman himself, let alone Superman comics. But over the last week or so, I've finally gotten around to reading Superman: Birthright and Superman for All Seasons, a pair of pretty notable Superman stories. The former was written by the esteemed Mark Waid, while the latter was written and illustrated by the equally esteemed team of Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, respectively. This latter pair was also behind Batman: The Long Halloween and Batman: Dark Victory, the former being one of my favorite Batman stories. Meanwhile, Waid has written or co-written such great stories as Kingdom Come and 52, as well as acclaimed runs on The Flash, JLA, and also Daredevil over at Marvel.

Getting back to Superman, these two stories both helped to define Superman in comics in ways that were both hugely significant and hugely differing. Today, we will examine the differences between Birthright and Seasons as stories, as well as their respective takes on the world's most iconic superhero.

Right off the bat, Superman: Birthright is very different from Superman for all Seasons. Birthright was spawned in the early 2000's and ran for 12 issues. It was, at the time, meant to be the definitive superhero origin story for Superman, a concept which even then had been done literally dozens of time. Comics scholar Chris Sims notes that even before Birthright, Superman: Secret Origin, and Superman: Earth One all came about, both he and a friend agreed that the last thing they wanted to see in comics was yet another Superman origin story. Exactly why he believes this is beyond the scope of this post, but you can read all about it here. (A word of warning: I'll be citing Mr. Sims a lot in this article.)

Birthright's take on Superman's origin story seeks to capture the feel of Superman is a more "toned-down" and "realistic" way, which is generally code for our hero constantly expressing angst at his predicament. The edition I read stated that Birthright was specifically designed to mirror the approach that the odious Smallville was taking, which is never a good sign. Even the art has that weird, edgy, penciled look that was common in its day, leftover from the exaggeratedly grim and gritty feel that nearly all 90s comics had.

In the hands of a lesser talent, this might lead to what happened with Man of Steel. Not Mark Waid though, oh no. He manages to successfully present a version of Superman that is largely true to the character, yet at the same time mess it up just enough to make is significantly imperfect. Birthright's main problem in this regard is that it keeps looking for explanations and justifications for details that don't or shouldn't need to be explained or justified. The classic example, as indicated by Sims, is the rationale behind putting a giant red "S" on Superman's costume. There's a lot of ballyhoo about it being some kind of Kryptonian crest or a symbol of hope or whatever stupid crud they routinely pull out of their butts at the DC editorial offices, but Sims has a simpler explanation: He wears an "S" on his chest because "S" stands for Superman. There. Done. Mystery solved.

One thing that I actually did like that Waid elaborated on more fully was his explanation of how Superman's Clark Kent disguise manages to fool his coworkers, who are all reporters. It's brilliantly done, with Clark putting a lot of effort into it and nearly blowing it more than once. However, it leads to the one thing which I really don't like about Birthright, and it's not even in the story itself, but in the afterword: Waid goes out and states flatly that Clark Kent is the "mask" and Superman is the real man.

Bullcrap.

Aside from the obvious play for the appeal of Batman, a strategy makes minimal sense for reasons that we won't go into right now, the idea of Clark Kent being the "mask" and Superman being the "real man" is plainly flawed. It all boils down to Superman and Clark Kent being two sides of the same person who acts differently around different people, ditto for Batman and everyone else. The fact that Mark Waid of all people bought into it is beyond me.

Birthright itself is workable, enjoyable even, but still flawed. It focuses on how Superman would supposedly be found scary by the denizens of our oh-so-scared-and-paranoid post-9/11 world, and ever so trusting of a bald, corporate elitist like Luthor. I quickly debunked this idea when I asked my mom, no comic book aficionado, if she would be freaked out if Superman touched down in our backyard. The answer: Not if he looked like the Christopher Reeve version. Bingo! Guess what Birthright's Superman looks like? Sure, the folks in the military might be a bit spooked, but who's going to be scared by a guy with no mask flying around wearing a big red cape helping people?

Which brings us to Superman for All Seasons.

Seasons isn't so much an origin story as it is a summation of who Superman is and how he came to be. Everything from the narrative structure to the art is focused on producing a story which does this. The logical result of this methodology is that Seasons is nothing at all like Waid's pseudo-dour Birthright. We see Superman through the eyes of his family, friends, and that one bald guy who's his biggest enemy. Loeb and Sale specifically note that they wanted the art to be reminiscent of Norman Rockwell paintings, which gives us an incredible effect. It's homely, warm, inviting, emotional, and poignant. Heck, it's even fun!

One thing that makes Seasons such a classic is that it doesn't fall prey to the trap of obsessing over details which ultimately have little relevance to the story. Instead, its story and visuals primarily focus on developing the characters, creating memorable scenes, and communicating a rich narrative. As a result, the small details that fill up the background in these 4 issues give it a richness that Birthright could barely accomplish in 12. Every character from the Man of Steel himself to Smallville's local minister all stick in your mind and are beautifully rendered. Every panel gives us something visually worthwhile to look at. The stories this four-issue series tells us are breathtakingly engaging and a pleasure to read. There's no fretting about how Clark got his journalism degree or why he decided to be a superhero. Why he did it is decided in 2 pages -heck, I doubt it was that many- more effectively than Birthright's 2 or 3 issues devoted to the subject.

Most of all, there's a sharp contrast given between Superman and Lex Luthor. We're not given a totally solid explanation about why Superman and Luthor are at odds (we rarely are), but it's made clear that Luthor's an evil bad guy who firmly believes himself to be the good guy, and there's no tragic backstory given to justify what a jerkhole he is. He's just like that, and because of him, Metropolis is initially a fairly disagreeable place to live. That is, until Superman shows up.

To be fair to Birthright, elements of that story sort of leak into Geoff Johns' Superman: Secret Origin, which I believe is the best Superman origin story which I have yet read, though there are many out there. In truth, Secret Origin combines a lot of aspects from both Birthright and Seasons, such as Clark and Luthor knowing each other as children, or Superman's behavior as Clark Kent being at least partly natural and genuine, respectively. This results is a story which is decidedly above par, but not quite on the level of a classic like Seasons.

In the end, while Birthright does have some things going for it, I'll definitely choose Seasons any day of the week as my choice interpretation of Superman. It just has so much more life and energy that Birthright only dreams of having. They're both good, but only Superman for all Seasons is a truly great interpretation of an American icon. I'm just glad that I finally read it.

Image 1 courtesy amazon.com. Image 2 courtesy samquixote.blogspot.com

True Villains: A Case Study in Moral Nihilism

Imagine a world where evil wins.

Picture it. The heroes are defeated. The bad guys are triumphant, making wisecracks and pumping fists. Their heinous deeds are splashed across the canvas of your imagination, brought to fruition and on display for all to see. And those wicked sots are actually proud of their actions, feeling justified by them. But there's more: In this scenario, evil deserved to win. In fact, the bad guys are actually the good guys, and the people you thought were the good guys aren't actually all that good. In fact, they're humorless, self-righteous prigs at best, and oafish bullies at worst. What kind of world is this? It's nothing short of a nightmare. 

But it is, in a perversely profound way, right on the mark about what things would really be like without reality's single defining factor: God. 

I've talked a little about my faith on this blog before, but it's mostly been something of sideshow. I'd throw in a Bible verse on the weekends, fill in the people who actually read this thing on the sermons at my church, maybe name drop Big G on occasion, generally in a humorous manner. But now I'd like to talk about something serious. Ironically enough, the spark of this serious discussion comes from a frankly silly and ostensibly lighthearted source: a webcomic called True Villains.

My good buddy Nathan (the other Nathan; not the one who thinks that the Richard Donner Superman movie is the greatest superhero movie ever made) recommended this webcomic to me as a possible source of inspiration, and for a good laugh, in writing my own webcomic. In fact, both my own webcomic (Currently in the works. More on that in the future!) and True Villains have a similar premise; a satirical take on the conventions of genre fiction from the vantage point of the bad guys. To be specific, True Villains takes the standard tropes of your average fantasy world (like, "the good guys always win" and "crime never pays" and "bad guys don't wear yellow."), and turns them inside out and flips them upside down. 

To be honest, this webcomic is fun stuff, with a style of humor that zigzags from raunchy to ridiculous, though never to the extreme of either. In addition to being funny, the characters are admittedly likable. You've got adventurer-turned-apprentice-to-the-evil-bad-guy Sebastian Jalek, Elia the Necromancer, Mia the magical child, Bayn the kid sorcerer, and Xanith the aforementioned evil bad guy. I swear, the makers of this strip could make a truckload of cash on T-shirts of Xanith saying, "I have a plan," or Mia smiling.

But remember what I said earlier, about imagining a world where evil wins? That's pretty much what this strip is, complete with the heroes who aren't heroes. I don't want to sound like some kind of killjoy, but the tail end of Saga 5 made me feel a lump in the pit of my stomach. In it, Sebastian tells his old adventuring buddies, including his sister, to basically shove it, complete with his own explanation of how he sees morality. For the sake of brevity, I will not include the full outpouring of bullcrap that spewed forth from the character's mouth (even Xanith, who's a flipping demon, agrees with me), but I will summarize it. In the scene, Sebastian essentially says that good and evil are two equally valid choices, and that morality is defined by the whim of the chooser. He isn't nearly that honest, wrapping his perversely self-justified twaddle in doublespeak, equating his lack of a definite moral compass with "freedom." 

Freedom. Freedom to do what? Freedom to do whatever Xanith, a sadistic liar, tells him? Freedom to kill and destroy whenever it's convenient? Freedom to aid a psychopathic murderer like Elia in various acts of wholesale slaughter? Near the beginning of the strip, Xanith orders the pair to burn down a whole village for a laugh, with Elia melting the faces off of the survivors. Sebastian admittedly saves Mia from the catastrophe, but only based on an arbitrary notion of morality that he readily discards at will, such as in a recent strip when he's assigned to kill a child said to be "the Chosen One." What kind of freedom is that?

Sebastian goes even further, claiming that it's pointless to fight for good, because there will always be evil. Here's where he turns from moral relativism to outright nihilism. Nihilism is the belief that nothingness defines reality, that life is simply futile. Sebastian has embraced nihilism, declaring that he is glad to be on the side of evil, because it makes him feel "free." He sees himself as above good and evil, doing thing not because he should, but because he can. In other words, he believes that he can do whatever he wants with no consequences. 

Of course, in the world of True Villains, it's vaguely possible for Sebastian to have a point, if only because in that world, there is no "God" as we understand it. There are said to be many "gods," such as a god of progress, a god of stability, a god of fear, a god of tall grass, etc. In fact, there is said to be a "god" for every aspect of reality. (Logically, this would imply that there are gods for good, evil, justice, truth, etc., but these "gods" are also said to be "unbiased" towards good or evil. How a possible god of justice could be "unbiased" toward either good or evil is beyond me.) Again, this is perversely profound, in that if there were a world wherein no supreme, objective standard of morality existed, then the logical extreme would be that there would be no supreme, objective standard of morality at all. Any honest atheist philosopher would say just as much, if not more so. Therefore, Sebastian and his cohorts are perfectly justified in committing acts of injustice, and have no reason to pretend to have a moral code, because there is no basis to have such a code if there is in fact no God, or even many gods. In the words of Fydor Dostoevsky, "If God does not exist, then everything is permitted."

This is all rather ironic, as there are plenty of "good guys" who mainly consist of the aforementioned humorless, self-righteous prigs, and also plenty of bad guys who readily admit that they're "morally bankrupt" and on the side of evil, including Sebastian's boss, Xanith. It's even acknowledged that Hell exists, and that all of these "gods" have both angels and demons working for them. The convoluted nature of this invented theology is nonetheless quite disturbing if given sufficient thought. It doesn't help that there's a lot of attention given to the various acts of necromancy and "dark magic" employed by our villains, which is disgustingly portrayed in agonizing detail. Good grief, I'm beginning to understand why people like Jack Chick don't like D&D. 

In sum, we have a mildly intelligent, well-written and illustrated, yet at the same time quite disturbing webcomic, where good and evil are equivalent to blue and orange in difference. It's a world where basic concepts of morality rest upon the whim of the individual, where good is a word and a word is air. (Thanks for the quote, Shakespeare!) That does sound like a nightmare. As the good book says, "Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!"

Image courtesy of tvtropes.org

Batman Eternal, Vol. 1: In with the Old, Out with the New

In the comics business, at the big two anyway, there are several types of event comics. You've got the crisis crossover, in which the whole shared universe is involved, one way or another, in some cosmic battle for the fate of reality as we know it (see Crisis on Infinite Earths, Civil War, and Forever Evil); the Bat-family crossover, in which all of the books set around a specific location or set of characters participate in a single series of events (see Knightfall, The Death of Superman and Trinity War; Marvel isn't really into this sort of crossover as most of their heroes are centered around the same location anyway, making any mass event crossovers essentially crisis crossovers). And then you've got the maxi-series.

A maxi-series, quite plainly, is the larger cousin of the mini-series, that is, a limited series which goes on for a bit longer than your typical 4 to 8 issue mini-series. In truth, the only maxi-series I've read are Brightest Day, Justice League: Generation Lost, and Batman Eternal, all of which were at DC Comics and the last of which we will be reviewing today. I want to read 52, which I have heard good things about, but I'm not too interested in looking into Marvel's Secret Wars.

Batman Eternal is a weekly series, the first I'm aware that DC has done since 52 back in 2006. Taking place in the aftermath of Forever Evil, which saw the "death" of Nightwing, Eternal's basic premise is that Commissioner Gordon accidentally kills a train full of people (or did he?) and goes to jail, Carmine "the Roman" Falcone shows up to wreak serious havoc, and Batman has to control a violent gang war while investigating who was really responsible for the train accident that Gordon allegedly caused. Batman's gonna need every ally he has for this one...

If all of that sounds a bit confusing, rest assured, I am telling it like it is. Batman Eternal has a bloated cast, an entangled spiderweb of subplots, and a story-line which has pacing issues that you wouldn't believe. Believe me, I wanted to like Eternal, but as with so many other stories I've read, you kind of have to see it to get the full gist of it.

If you're reading this article and thinking that Batman Eternal is a awful series, I'll be the first to say that it's not that bad... in some respects. I mean, the core idea of the book, that is, stories about the various Bat-family members working together to save the day, is an awesome idea that I wish we'd see more often. Unfortunately, Eternal's biggest problem, aside from the fundamental weaknesses which I described earlier, is that, if anything, it's just too ambitious for its own good. The book itself reads like Batman: War Games, which is not a good thing, but is nonetheless pretty surprising. I mentioned in my review of that ill-fated Bat-family crossover that the thing was basically a huge mess, mainly because it lacked the solid plotting and a centralized storyline that made previous 90's-2000's era Bat-family crossovers work. The thing about Eternal, however, is that is does the exact same thing, for almost the exact same reasons, but is distilled and condensed into a maxiseries which normally wouldn't have this problem.

Why do I say, "normally?" I say "normally" because, normally, there's only one, maybe two, writers working on a single book. Even the great mega-series Knightfall had Chuck Dixon and Denny O'Neil working to keep the story solid and on course, and it worked out pretty well. In this case, we have around half-a-dozen writers working on this thing at once. Now, I'm no expert in the dynamics of comic book creative teams, but I'd be willing to wager that what we have here is a case of too many cooks in the kitchen. And it really is a shame, because most of these guys, to my knowledge, are top-notch Bat-scribes who could give us some great stuff. We've got names like Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV, and John Layman all working on this thing, and any one or even any two of them could probably have made a darn good maxi-series.

Unfortunately, with all of these writers, the end result is that we've got Batwing (Luke Fox) and Jim Corrigan mucking about in the basement of Arkham Asylum, Batman running hog-wild every which way, Batgirl and Red Hood fighting various bad guys in Brazil, and Red Robin and Harper Row trying to track down the source of a nanovirus (don't ask) in Tokyo, and that's without mentioning the Stephanie Brown plot, the Julia Pennyworth plot, the Falcone-Penguin gang war plot, the Jim Gordon in jail plot, the Jason Bard being a super-awesome cop plot, and the whatever the flipping else I forgot to mention plot! (GCPD, Mayor Hady, Deacon Blackfire, Vicki Vale, etc.)

I also take issue with the books seesawing depiction of certain characters, such as Jason Bard and Vicki Vale. For most of the story, Bard is depicted as a competent, smart, and good cop. Then at the end, this portrayal gets flipped on its head with almost no foreshadowing, other than Batman saying, "I don't trust you." That kind of threw me for a loop. Contrary to popular belief, just because Batman says something doesn't make it true. And if it is true, it does not count as foreshadowing, because Bard didn't actually do anything until the very end to make you go, "Whoa... that totally just happened." It's more like, "Huh? What the... that makes no sense!" Vicki Vale is a different case, mainly because she's acting like a smart, super-awesome reporter gal one moment, and an airhead with no sense the next.

This series also engages a lot in what my colleague Rob Siebert over at Primary Ignition calls "needless naming." This phenomenon occurs when characters go out of their way to say each other's names out loud so that the audience knows who they are. Problem is, when you do it more than once, it gets really annoying really fast. Seriously, it happens once an issue, and you'd think that the writers would realize that people who are following a weekly series wouldn't need to be reminded of the identities of the cast every issue. Honestly people, believe in the intelligence of your audience!

What does Batman Eternal get right, you ask? Like I said, I genuinely love the main idea of this book: the Bat-family working together, kicking butt and taking names. The interactions and character dynamics between them are pretty good (for a New 52 production), if not always outstanding. I like how they brought back Carmine Falcone, who was a pretty good villain back during Batman: The Long Halloween. In fact, all of the older, classic, characters get a really good deal in this trade. Tim Drake/Red Robin gets some spotlight in a genuine Bat-book for once; Stephanie Brown is finally reintroduced into the New 52; ditto for Bard, Cluemaster, and the surprise villain near the end of the book. This book is all about brushing up on older Bat-comics history, and I love it. Even the newer characters like Harper, Julia, and Leo (Gordon's cell mate) don't exactly get the short end of the stick. They all get a chance to shine, and I know that they'll all have bigger roles in Vol. 2.

If anyone gets a raw deal in this collection, it's Catwoman. She shows up early to chat with Batman, and gives us a nice reaction shot when she hears that Falcone is back in town, but the next time we see here, she gets captured by Falcone and gets saved by the timely intervention of... Professor Pyg? Oh, yeah, and Batman helped. (Speaking of Professor Pyg, we never really see what happened to that guy after he was sent to Arkham and he let out a big "No!" Also, we never see the fate of Corrigan and Batwing, who go down fighting zombies in the basement of Arkham Asylum.)

The final notable element of this book was the art. It's rare that we get to see such an ambitious Bat-family story with so many characters brought to life by more-or-less the same artist. Having the same artist throughout the series (with occasional substitutes, such as by Dustin Nguyen) brings a unity of function and form to the series that is lacking in most Bat-family crossovers. Indeed, in most Bat-family crossovers, the art and writing styles are so eclectic that you'd think that Jean-Paul Valley wrote the book if you didn't know better.

Unfortunately, despite these fleeting strengths, Batman Eternal, Vol. 1 largely falls flat due to an assortment of fundamental flaws which form the foundation of sand upon which this series is built. I sincerely wanted to like Eternal, and I followed its progress quite closely on the internet prior to the release of this volume. It's reintroduction of Stephanie Brown to the New 52 is laudable, and I salute Snyder and his cohorts for their use of this fan-pleasing strategy. It was nice to see the Bat-family together on the comics page in capable hands, but I know that with a different combination of writers (or just one), it could have been done even better. And if I'm right that the writers' idea is to make this story into a recreation of Batman: War Games, I can only ask one, single, overriding question: "Could you have honestly picked a worse Batman story to try to emulate?"

RATING: 6.5/10

Fun fact: In the graphic novel, Carmine Falcone is running a criminal empire of some kind in Hong Kong prior to returning to Gotham City. As something of a crime buff, I have to wonder, why would a former Italian Mafioso be running a criminal empire in Hong Kong? I mean, I'm sure its possible, but likely? Nah.

Image courtesy of dc.wikia.com

Review: Batman: Knight and Squire

Due to my review backlog, it's been a while since I actually read the work I am about to review. Thankfully enough, it was pretty memorable. Batman: Knight and Squire, written by Paul Cornell with art by Jimmy Broxton, is a six-issue miniseries telling of the adventures of Batman and Robin's British counterparts. You've got Knight, a.k.a. Sir Cyril Sheldrake, and his lovely sidekick Squire, a.k.a. Beryl Hutchinson. Both are legacy characters, in that Cyril's father and grandfather both previously bore the title of Knight, and Squire inherited her own title from Cyril and Cyril's father. As a side-note, the only place that Batman appears in this book is on the front page- in the title. Otherwise, despite getting the umbrella title, the Dark Knight is nowhere in sight in this book. But a certain other character in the Batman mythos shows his face in the latter stages of the story.

Superhero shenanigans in England are a bit more off-kilter than they are on our side of the pond. Firstly, you've got a bar where both English superheroes and supervillains meet to shoot the breeze, guaranteed by "truce magic." Then there's the Morris Men, portrayed as ninja-like troublemakers, and Jarvis Poker, the British Joker, and the various other superheroes who patrol England. These include Salt of the Earth, Milkman, and Squire's new boyfriend, reformed villain Shrike. At first, all seems well in merry England... but not for long.

Batman: Knight and Squire is built largely on humor and zany action-adventure. Every other panel has a throwaway gag involving some obscure British pop-cultural reference, helpfully explained at the end of each issue. Most of the stories don't take themselves too seriously. As it progresses, however, the series slowly eases out of humorous antics into more serious territory, with everything coming to a crescendo at the end of the second-to-last issue. The whole series is a homage to and reconstruction of goofy Silver Age yarns, before doing a 180 into a grim-and-gritty, high-stakes crime thriller. If this sounds jarring and abrupt, fear not, gentle reader. While there is a significant tone shift after issue five, the characters maintain their personalities, communicating to the audience (metaphorically, of course) that they're just as surprised and confused about the sudden turn of events as they are.

Knight and Squire's London is much more equivalent to the Gotham City of Batman '66 than to anything else. The titular characters of the book are local celebrities who routinely appear on TV talk shows and are featured in the tabloids. Likewise, supervillains do little in the way of actual crime, with even the most preeminent among them, such as Jarvis Poker, pulling little more than harmless pranks. Supervillains can be found hanging out in convenience stores while Beryl grabs a magazine. Cyril dates pop stars, consulting with his American butler Hank after a breakup. It may sound a bit surreal, but on reading it, it is actually quite amusing.

My favorite installment in the series was definitely issue three, in which scientists use cloning technology to resurrect Richard III, who promptly starts speaking in iambic pentameter before embarking on a plot to conquer England through... Twitter? Well, they don't actually call it "Twitter," but still, it's pretty funny. It's madcap fun like this that reminds me of what Booster Gold needs to be more like, or of what I'm sure Justice League International was like, or even of what Silver Age Superman was like. Honestly, I'm surprised that Chris Sims isn't all over this book. This particular brand of comic book adventure is just the sort of thing that will appeal to fans of Doctor Who and the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Incidentally, Paul Cornell actually wrote a few episodes of Doctor Who.

To summarize, Batman: Knight and Squire is an eccentric, fun-filled romp through British pop-culture which any anglophile will appreciate. Oddly enough, however, one of my only two real complaints is that it relies on its British pop-culture references a little too much. My other complaint is that the ending is a bit too abrupt and unresolved, like they were trying as quickly as possible to wrap the story up. Even one more issue to stretch things out would have made things a bit better. But as it is, it's a fun little story which showcases two of my favorite minor comic book characters. Tally ho, gents!

RATING: 7.5/10

Image courtesy of amazon.com

Review: Road to Marvel's the Avengers

Note: After a week-long vacation in an undisclosed location, I have now returned to blogging. Please return to enjoy this blog post. Also, congratulations to my grandparents, Pat and Jeanne Sweeney, on their 50th wedding anniversary! Also, congratulations to the blog for this, the 275th post!

----- 

This book is bad.

I just wanted to get that out there. Not only is it bad, it's boring, unoriginal, predictable, and stupid. To be totally accurate, it is precisely because of these latter deficiencies that it is bad. I originally put this collection on my graphic novel to-read list because I wanted to get the whole story on The Avengers. What I read only cemented my belief that everything we saw in the films leading up to that glorious cinematic spectacle was more than enough. I'm sure that whoever was writing this carp was just doing their job, but the least Marvel could do is get some actually good writers to put out actually good promotion material meant to represent and advertise their actually good movies.

Road to Marvel's the Avengers collects all of the cheap-as-Hades tie-in comic books that were put out to generate buzz for Phase 1 of the Marvel Cinematic Universe... as if they needed anymore. We're treated to a full on, word-for-word comic book rendition of Iron Man, and background and backstory on Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Dr. Abraham Erskine, and Johann Schmidt. We're also told exactly how Black Widow infiltrated Stark International in order to become Tony's new personal assistant.

If any or all of this sounds even remotely exciting and compelling, let me assure you, it's not.

The Iron Man stuff takes up roughly half of the book, and is basically a poorly rendered version of the film of the same name, plus some stuff showing Iron Man doing his thing in-between Iron Man and Iron Man 2. This latter part is particularly dull, depicting Tony fighting... people with guns in the Congo, I guess, and Tony using his Iron Man armor to impress the ladies. At the very least, it guest stars General Ross from The Incredible Hulk, and I just love that guy.

The problem with the Iron Man stuff is that it tries too hard to be the movie. The comic book rendition of the film (titled "I Am Iron Man!") is word-for-word, scene-for-scene, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was shot-for-shot too. "I Am Iron Man!" manages to capture the basic skeletal structure of the film, but has none of its substance or style. This, I think, is the problem with book-of-the-film tie-ins, or comic-book-of-the-film tie-ins, or any kind of tie-in which recycles the film for that matter: It often leaves the writer with no room for originality, essentially copying the script. As a result, this comic feels nothing like the movie, despite all of its effort to do so.

The other Iron Man stuff has a similar problem, combined with a hackneyed and stale plot. It's obviously trying to ape the pseudo-cleverness of Iron Man 2, and unlike "I Am Iron Man!", it actually succeeds in emulating the film. Considering considering that Iron Man 2 is widely considered to be the weakest film in the MCU, however, that's a patently terrible strategy, if only in hindsight. I can only imagine how fans who were gearing up for Iron Man 2 felt when they read this monstrosity. If I were in their shoes back then, however, I would have prayed to the most high God with all my heart that the movie was nothing like this comic. Paradoxically, the tone of this comic was spot on in regards to its reflection of the movie, yet somehow much, much worse. (For the record, I found Iron Man 2 to be an enjoyable flick, though admittedly not as good as its fellow MCU films. I hope to complete my Iron Man set of reviews and review it sometime.) At any rate, the only good thing about it was its exploration of the dynamic between Tony and his father, but while that was an oasis of good stuff in a wasteland of mediocrity and awfulness, it is far overshadowed by what we actually saw in the dadblamed movie.

The final bit of stuff related to Iron Man 2 promotion is a story with Black Widow. This story's tone shift early on is jarring, to say the least, going from crazy Mission Impossible/Die Hard/James Bond-esque stuff to a drama version of The Office. What I mean is, we literally see Black Widow jumping out of an exploding plane before going to apply at the Stark International corporate office. The whole time, she's using this awful, grating inner dialogue where she complains about "American inefficiency" (Clearly, the writer did not do his research when writing a defector from Soviet Russia) and the idiosyncrasies of office work. I imagine that under a different, actually competent writer, it would have been pretty darn funny to see Black Widow trying to navigate office politics without seriously injuring someone, but no, that's not what happens. What happens is a dry, humorless story which should have been very entertaining, maybe even interesting. But it is instead very boring, and only succeeds in persuading us that we really did not need to know the answer to the question it poses, that question being, "How did Black Widow infiltrate Stark International?" It's a perfect example of wasting a perfectly good plot.

As if things couldn't get any worse, we are then treated to a similar fill-in-the-blanks plot with the stuff for Captain America: The First Avenger. The story constantly shifts between a generic Cap-fighting-in-World-War-Two stuff and pre-Captain America Steve Rogers training with Bucky. Ordinarily, this would be fantastic stuff, showing Steve and Bucky growing up together. However, it's stifled by the stupid generic Cap-fighting-in-World-War-Two stuff and showing Johann Schmidt's story. (It's not that I have a problem with stuff showing Cap fighting in World War Two, but it's because it's so generic and careless in presentation that I found it to be intolerable.) The basic premise of this comic, in the same vein as televised tripe such as Smallville and perhaps even the upcoming Gotham is to show how our heroes and villains came to be the way they are. There's just one problem: Devoting a whole series, or even a miniseries, to answering that question gets really old really fast. I mean, how many times do you really want to see Steve getting pounded on in an alley before Bucky shows up to be a street fighting badbutt? (And remember, Bucky's supposed to be the sidekick.) Steve's story is basically what this series is, and while it's fairly compelling, it's not the stuff of great comics, because we already know what's going to happen. That's why we have origin stories, not origin series.

The stuff with the Red Skull and Dr. Erskine also had tons of potential, but whoever is writing this carp failed to capitalize on it. The Red Skull is shown in his days as plain old Johann Schmidt, who was apparently some random Hitler-groupie who got noticed by Heinrich Himmler and landed a position in the Waffen SS. The Red Skull's role in the plot is particularly interesting because he was so underdeveloped in the flipping movie. This comic could have been a chance to greatly redeem him as a character, delving into exactly why he wants to take over the world while parading about in an all black leather wardrobe. Unfortunately, despite one or two pretty great scenes with Johann Schmidt, we're mostly left in the dark (again) about these details. There's also a few scenes where Dr. Abraham Erskine is show trying and failing to escape to Switzerland with his family, and that really showed Dr. Erskine's selfless nature. He gets captured by Schmidt, but his manner of escape is blatantly ripped off from the Hong Kong scene in The Dark Knight of all things. And he gets put in his place in the hierarchy of morality by Peggy Carter of all people. Once again, plenty of potential, but poor execution.

Finally, there are a handful of stories focusing on people like Nick Fury and Agent Phil Coulson. These stories should have been awesome, but they failed spectacularly, thanks in part to ugly, ill-suited art, but mostly in part due to crudely put together story. None of the characters sound like their movie selves. Heck, they barely even look like their movie selves. What's particularly galling, however, is that these are the characters who, like Rhodey, Pepper, Bucky, and Dr. Erskine, would have benefited the most from tie-in comics. Instead, they all get this half-baked super-spy nonsense. A terrible shame, really.

In sum, I checked out Road to Marvel's the Avengers in an effort to enhance my appreciation of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I was disappointed by what I found, and am now reconsidering my plans to check out Fury's Big Week, another lead-up to The Avengers. What I found in this wholly ill-conceived trade paperback was bland characterizations, contorted dialogue, and a worse plot, which, combined with several details contradicted by the films, make for an altogether dull, uninspired story. Please don't add this to your personal library. It's bad enough that it made it into my local public one.

RATING: 5/10

Image courtesy of wired.com

Review: Batman and Psychology: A Dark and Stormy Knight

As someone with a vested interest in the plight of the mentally ill, I am routinely disgusted with the portrayal of supposedly "insane" persons in various media, most notably the Batman comics. Batman's rogues gallery, while the best in comics, is almost entirely composed of people who are routinely labeled as "insane." The problem here is that "insane" is a legal term, not a medical one. The Joker may be psychopathic, in that he has no empathy for his fellow human beings, but he is not psychotic, in that he can indeed comprehend the criminality of his actions. He therefore belongs in Blackgate Penitentiary, not Arkham Aslylum. As a side note, "asylum" is a highly dated and outmoded term which should be replaced by something else. How about "Elizabeth Arkham Memorial Psychiatric Hospital"?

But I'm getting a bit off track...

Batman and Psychology: A Dark and Stormy Knight by Travis Langley is a book on various issues relating to psychology in the world of Batman. It touches on both the above issue and many more, such has the Robins, Batman's father figures, the villains, the various lovely ladies in Batman's life, and what exactly makes Batman tick. It examines not only the primary comic version of Batman, but also the versions presented the various films and television shows. With a forward by Michael Uslan, the executive producer of most of the Batman films, and an introduction by acclaimed Bat-editor Denny O'Neil, this book has a lot of big names associated with it. It helps that the author is a psychology professor and a huge Batman fan. Therefore, it seems only natural that this would be a terrific book.

Happily, it is.

Batman and Psychology belongs to that class of books which examine subjects that were never designed to be studied particularly in-depth. There's the Wiley's Blackwell Philosophy and Pop Culture series which produced, among many others, Batman and Philosophy: The Dark Knight of the Soul, along with James Daily and Ryan Davidson's The Law of Superheroes. In this case, Batman and Psychology studies the psyche of a 75 year old comic book character. And golly, for a huge geek like me, it is a boatload of fun.

Reading about how the birth order theory might explain the varying temperaments of the Robins, or why exactly Gotham City is filled with all these weird costumed criminals is absolutely fascinating to me. Reading books like this combines my love for scholarly subjects with my love for comic books and superheroes, blending them all into a smoothie of coolness. I think it also appeals to me because the lighthearted but scholarly nature of the book grants a sort of legitimacy to comic books, a legitimacy which is not widely shared by certain others.

What makes the book really shine, aside from its great content, is the way that content is presented. Langley's writing style is very natural and relaxed, and not stiff or stuffy. This allows for the various complex ideas to be expressed clearly and understandably. It's not overly technical or involved, but expertly refined and finely expounded. This may be due to Langley's background as a professor, which would require him to be able to explain things effectively, but all I know is that he writes very well.

Batman and Psychology: A Dark and Stormy Knight is a must read for both Batman-fans and Batman-writers. It gave me a new perspective on Batman and a renewed understanding of the character. Incoming Bat-scribes would do well to check out this book and learn what they can from it. I am also glad that the book devoted a whole chapter to discussing Arkham Asylum and its obvious faults, as well as addressing the false premise that most if not all of Batman's villains are mentally ill. My only complaint with this book is that it did not cover the case of Jean-Paul Valley, the first Azrael, a mentally ill hero in the Bat-family. That, I believe, would have made for an interesting entry. Perhaps a later edition will include an appendix on him, and possibly one on Michael Lane, the second Azrael.

RATING: 10/10

Image courtesy of goodreads.com

Bible Verse Sunday #82, On Polls, and Artemis Fowl News

This week's verse on Bible Verse Sunday is John 3:17:

"For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."

I picked this verse when looking up passages about heroes. The Son in question is Jesus Christ, the greatest hero the world has ever known or ever will know. The purpose of Jesus' ministry wasn't to bring punishment and wrath upon the denizens of Earth, but to save them from themselves, to insure that every one of them would be able to go to heaven after death. There will be a day of wrath when Jesus returns, but only after he has rewarded and commended the faithful. It is only the unbelievers and the forces of Satan who have anything to fear from this event.

In church today during the main service, the pastor continued in our study in the book of Romans. This week, the pastor discussed a basic salvation message, detailing the world salvation cycle, our spiritual state, and the result of God's salvation promises. We are, in turn, to respond with worship, gratitude, confidence in  Christ, and obedience. Specifically, we must check with what God desires, and we must remember that God is faithful and merciful in messy situations.

I helped in a kids class during the second service, and it was pretty okay. The kids were kids, a rambunctious, energetic lot, but I hope to make an impact on them through my volunteering as a teacher's assistant. I have lots of idea about how we can make the lessons come alive for them. It's so exciting to be able to do things like that!

In other news, I have decided to stop putting up polls. Why? Because I never get more than a few votes, and the only one I got for the last one was mine. This may be my fault for putting up questions which few people care to answer, but I don't know for sure. The point, however, is that the monthly poll is an apparently unpopular attraction, and I don't want a useless gadget cluttering up my blog space. If any of you out there want the poll back, you'll have to ask for it.

Finally, we have some big news for Artemis Fowl! The graphic novel rendition of The Opal Deception was released just a week or so ago, and I sincerely hope that it's better than the last one. I look forward to checking it out soon, after which I will report back to you, gentle readers, on just what it was like.

Review: Booster Gold: The Tomorrow Memory

A while back, I reviewed Booster Gold: Day of Death. In hindsight, I think I gave too high a rating, as it was, in truth, pretty mediocre. Indeed, Booster Gold's eponymous series was never particularly outstanding, but it was one thing that made it stand head and shoulders above the rest: It was fun. In a world surrounded by joyless, ultra-serious grim-and-grittiness, we have a fun, irreverent, silly book which plays with the idea of time travel in a superhero shared universe. The stories in this title are sometimes a bit involved, and require the reader to have some knowledge of the fictional history of the DC Universe, but the comic usually fills the reader in so that they know enough to enjoy the story.

For instance, the primary story arc of this book, "The Tomorrow Memory", heavily involves that time when Cyborg-Superman and Mongul teamed up to destroy Coast City and turn it into a giant engine for a new War World. (Told you so.) The basic plot is that 75 or so years in the future, the government has developed crude time travel abilities and sends an agent back in time to avert the disaster. Booster Gold, being the protector of the integrity of the time stream with Rip Hunter, has to make sure that history happens as it did, including resulting in Coast City being wiped off the map. The aforementioned agent isn't too happy about this, but neither is Booster.

The other story in this book precedes "The Tomorrow Memory," and is a two-parter focusing on what Booster Gold was doing during the Blackest Night crisis crossover back in 2009. Man, has it already been five years? Anyway, this story features Booster and Blue Beetle (Jaime Reyes) being forced to fight a reanimated Blue Beetle (Ted Kord), Booster's dead best friend. It's appropriately titled "Dead Ted."

The thing about this title is that is plays with the concept of time travel without trying to sound too clever about it. There's not a whole lot of time spent discussing how exactly the mechanics of time travel work, with the main focus being on how Booster and co. deal with having to protect history- even when it means letting terrible things happen. This trade paperback also toys around with the idea that there are people outside of Booster and Rip's little group who can travel in time and want to "help" by averting big disasters. At the same time, I'm kind of disappointed that The Tomorrow Memory wasn't gutsy enough to apply the idea to real life catastrophes, like the First and Second World Wars. On the other hand, it may have been a good idea to show some respect for real life tragedies and stick to metatextual commentary on fictional events. I guess it all depends on personal preference, and I suppose it wasn't such a bad way to go.

Another particularly great thing in this book is the emotion. In "Dead Ted", Booster is forced to fight the reanimated corpse of his dead best friend, who has Ted's voice, memories, gadgets, etc. Booster's initial response to the situation is actually kind of funny, in a weird, twisted sort of way. In this story, however, Booster is seen dealing with Ted's death at Ted's funeral in the past. It's some really heart-pounding stuff, and the end of this story is pretty touching.

The best stuff, however, is in "The Tomorrow Memory" where Booster is reunited with his sister, Michelle, who got ticked off at him in the previous book and lost herself a few years in the past. There's a whole final issue devoted to Booster mending fences with Michelle over what happened during this story arc. We get to really dig into Booster's feelings about his hero career, and how much he hates his job, but goes on doing it anyway. Rip Hunter also gets some character development in a very spoileriffic way which I won't discuss here. I will say, however, that Rip is more than just Booster Gold's mentor: He's a superhero in his own right. And I've got to say, I like Rip almost as much as I like Booster. That last issue is probably my favorite in the whole series, next to the Batman-secret-keeper one.

In short, Booster Gold: The Tomorrow Memory isn't the best comic book story around, or even the best Booster Gold story, but it's still quite good. Despite my better rating of the previous trade, I actually liked this one better, and I think it is better. The only particular flaws were more annoyances than anything else. For instance, at the beginning of almost every issue, Booster takes some time to explain via inner monologue his basic origin story, which kind of got on my nerves. I understand that there's a lot of pressure on these writers to cater to new readers who are cold calling on these issues, but it does so at the expense of loyal, longtime readers and fans. I was like, "I know this already. Get on with it!" There's also the art, which looks great, but the fight scenes just look a little uncoordinated and goofy. Other than these few complaints, I recommend this books for all Booster Gold fans, and happily direct such readers to Justice League International, 52, and Justice League: Generation Lost, the last being one of my favorite comic book series.

RATING: 7.5/10

Image courtesy of collectededition.blogspot.com

Review: JLA Deluxe Edition: Volume 1

Attention readers: I will be out of town this week and unable to post anything. On the other hand, I will now be posting on Saturdays as well. Thank you for understanding.

The nineties were a weird and frightening time for comics. Known as the Dark Age of Comics, this era in comic book history actually began in the late eighties following the successes of Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and Alan Moore's Watchmen. The next thirty years or so of comics were spent trying to emulate those two series. Both Marvel and DC did everything in their power to make their comics "darker" and "grittier," in order to show that their stories were more "mature" and "serious." To them, and, sadly, to a lot of fans, that meant outrageous displays of profanity, sex, and gory, bloody violence. Every hero under the sun suffered at the hands of creators who wanted to make their heroes more dark, more brooding, more, you know, realistic. The art was affected too. Characters were drawn to be more exaggeratedly muscular, more ripped and mean looking. Superman got a mullet for a while, for Pete's sake.

Then you throw Grant Morrison into the mix.

I've never been a big fan of Grant Morrison's work. It's generally super trippy, super complicated, and super hit-or-miss. I haven't read much of his stuff, but I have read enough to know what his style is like. He tends to rely on plot twists, Chekhov's Guns, and lots and lots of nightmare fuel, depending on what he's writing. I've got to give him credit, however, for being really, really into all manner of comics. I mean, this guy digs up stuff from the Silver Age and recycles it for use in the Modern Age. He just loves comic books. Plus, he actually writes some pretty good stuff. It's not always to my personal preference, but it's usually aesthetically good, and I can always find something to like about that.

What I'm saying here is that Grant Morrison in the nineties makes for a bizarre combination. We've got goofy, over-the-top art combined with trippy, devil's-in-the-details writing, which all combine to make one of the most peculiar trade paperbacks I've ever had to review. For the uninitiated, JLA stands for "Justice League of America," and features the adventures of DC's "big seven": Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, the Flash, Aquaman, and Martian Manhunter... plus all their friends who pop in every now and again. JLA Deluxe Edition: Volume 1 collects the issues originally collected in New World Order and American Dreams, plus some random Secret Files issue. We've got an alien invasion story, a mole inside the JLA story, a story about a fight between a rogue angel and the Legions of Hell that spills over into the corporeal world, and a traditional Morrison mind-bender story involving a supervillain called the Key and medically induced comas.

I'll be honest: I'm not a huge fan of alien invasion stories. For one thing, it's been done to death, and for another, I have yet to meet a comic book story full of large groups of people blasting each other with energy or hitting each other that did it in an interesting way. I have faith in comic books as a genre, but I just haven't seen anything of that nature which I find entertaining to date, except maybe, just maybe, Blackest Night. Thankfully enough, Morrison manages to subvert the usual pitfalls of an alien invasions story by injecting his own unique spin on it. With the first story, the one with the "Hyperclan," I think Morrison was actually trying to make fun of the exaggerated, toyetic era of the nineties. The Hyperclan, led by "Protex," show up on Earth apparently wanting to use their powers to better the world. But they actually have a secret agenda. Next, a JLA recruiting drive brings in "Tomorrow Woman," secretly a mole cooked up by T.O. Morrow and Professor Ivo to bring down the Justice League. Following that, there's the story where Zauriel the angel literally falls out of the sky, shortly before all heaven breaks loose, so to speak. Finally, we get a two-parter where Green Arrow is forced to go it alone on the Justice League satellite against the Key, who has trapped the rest of the Justice League.

Like I said, Morrison has his flaws, but his unique style manages to bring out his stories so as to elevate them above the rest. Considering that this thing was written in the nineties, that's saying something. My favorite story of the four listed was undoubtedly the two-parter at the end. For one thing, we've got the novice Connor Hawke, then the only Green Arrow, being a badbutt, while at the same time we're treated to some cool-looking alternate realities. The Key is an awesome villain, a truly magnificent bad guy. The thing about this story, though, is that it was set up in the Zauriel one. Morrison tends to do that. Just pay extra close attention to the hospital scenes and you'll see what I mean. Speaking of Zauriel, that story was probably my least favorite. The long and short of it is that I don't appreciate Morrison's grasp on theology (it's almost as bad as what David Hine and his ilk were doing over in Azrael a few years ago), and the story wasn't particularly groundbreaking. I guess I just don't think much of Morrison's huge, epic stories, and it's the smaller scale, more personal stories like the two-parter that I really like. It doesn't help that the evil invasion plot is so... generic.

Morrison also has trouble with stilted dialogue, but it's not usually particularly egregious. The art is typical nineties fare, with Batman's look being particularly ridicule-worthy. My only other objections are motivated by personal preference. I don't generally like epic science fiction adventure epics like this story, but I'm willing to proceed given that I've heard so many good things about Morrison's run on this book. It's just that he did the invasion/war story twice in the span of seven issues. Granted, he resolved and executed them in cool and unique ways, but I just don't particularly care for that sort of story. Otherwise, his characterization of the JLA members is spot on, particularly with Batman. I've always liked Morrison's take on Batman, mainly because Morrison knows how to make Batman look really, really cool, and I'll thank him also for only minimally touching on the souped-up Superman (see Dork Age). The dynamics we're given here are sure to be deepened later, as they are prone to do in long runs. In short, while not perfect, Morrison does deliver a satisfactory start to the JLA series.

RATING: 7.5/10

Image courtesy of unitedmonkee.com

Spider-Man: The Greatest Superhero in Comics

Web-slinger. Spidey. Web-head. "Masked menace." Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.

We all know the story. Or at least, we all should know. It was plastered on the big screen on no less than two occasions, plus all the comics and TV shows. Peter Parker was an Ordinary High School Student. But when he went to that science lab and got bitten by a radioactive spider, he gained the proportionate strength, speed, and agility of a spider, plus a sort of sixth-sense that allows him to detect danger (dubbed "spider sense"). At first, he did what any real teenager would do: He used his powers to make money. But when his Uncle Ben was murdered by some random jerkhole whom Peter could have stopped earlier, Peter decided to take his Uncle Ben's admonition that "With great power there must also come great responsibility," and use his powers to help people. Thus, Spider-Man was born!

My bold declaration in the title of this post may have many of you wondering. Surely the lowly Spider-Man is not the world's greatest superhero? Does not that title belong to Superman? What about Captain America, or even Batman? Let me assure you that I stand firm in my conviction. Superman may be the world's most well known ("iconic") superhero, and Batman and his associates may be my personal favorites, but Spider-Man is still the best. Why? If you want a really good reason, go to Comics Alliance and find Chris Sims' article on the subject. My take, however, is a bit different. The thing about Spider-Man, about Peter Parker, is the whole "With great power comes great responsibility" thing. It may sound clichéd, but it is in fact pretty original. Spider-Man was the first real superhero that Stan Lee and co. actually wrote. The Fantastic Four were more like a team of adventurers, and the Hulk was just a rampaging monster, but Spider-Man was genuine superhero, when the superhero comic was still relatively young. I could go on about how this reflected Marvel and DC's differing modus operandi, but I'll leave that to Mr. Sims. The point here is that Spider-Man was specifically setting out to help people. Not to ruthlessly target crime like Batman, or to routinely save the world and circumvent disaster like Superman, though he has done that. He doesn't even do it to fight supervillains, though he does that a lot. Spider-Man's core purpose is to use his powers responsibly, and to him, that means helping people and doing the right thing, no matter what.

Of course, this trait alone is not enough to make Spider-Man the greatest superhero in comics. At least, not without elaboration. When Spider-Man was created, he was, as mentioned, an ordinary high school student. A teenager. Back in the day (that is, 1962), it was a pretty novel idea to have a teenage superhero headlining his own book. Before that, teenagers and other younger characters were seen as only worthy of being sidekicks. (Stan Lee, for the record, hated sidekicks.) When Spider-Man became unexpectedly and outrageously popular after first appearing in Amazing Fantasy #15, pop culture became awash in teenaged heroes, so much so that the character has become even more clichéd than "With great power comes great responsibility." (On a side note, it was also a pretty novel idea to have the story being set specifically in New York City, as opposed to some generic, made up metropolitan area.) The point is that Spider-Man does what he does, the right thing, no matter what, in the context of having to deal with all the normal problems that teenagers have. And by normal problems, I mean the feeling that everyone reading this got as a teen that the world's out to get them. The genius here, however, is that for Peter Parker, he has actual life-threatening situations to counterbalance perceived life-threatening situations. He's got midterms, girl trouble, an ailing aunt, adults who hate him for some reason, money problems, the whole nine yards, plus criminals, killers, supervillains who have a personal fixation on killing him, the media, and the general public, who all hate him.

The thing is, though, the things going on in his personal life are generally a lot more stressful and angst inducing for Peter than Kraven the Hunter trying to drive a spear through his torso. Just like a real teenager would. A real teenager, if granted the power of Spider-Man, would get cocky and have fun, like Spider-Man does. Chris Sims notes that Peter Parker's activities as Spider-Man is a way for him to "cut loose" and relax. That's why he cracks jokes, makes fun of his enemies, and relishes in hand-to-hand combat with unabashed glee. This is made abundantly clear in Ultimate Spider-Man when Peter decides to quit being Peter Parker, having come to the conclusion that everything's fine when he's Spider-Man, and that it's his personal life that's giving him all the trouble. Of course, this leads to an imbalance in his life as Spider-Man, nearly leading to disastrous consequences from neglecting his personal life. All of this makes it even more important to remember that whenever Spider-Man is despairing over a battle with his villains, stuff just got real. Because normally, an episode of Spider-Man's crime fighting adventures is another exciting interlude in the personal drama of Peter Parker's hapless mundane life. He doesn't have Batman or Iron Man's lax, luxurious secret identity, or the sheer, raw power and charisma of Superman. Peter doesn't even have a team of super-powered buddies to help him out every now and then (except when he does, such as when he's serving with the Avengers). And yet... he does the right thing. Because of all of this, Spider-Man is the first superhero to ever achieve something that all previous superheroes had not: He was able to make the reader relate to him.

Most importantly of all, however, is that Peter Parker does not stay an angsty teenager. He grows up. He matures. He lives life. He falls in love. He gets married. (See One More Day) He doesn't grow older than, say, 30, this being comic books, but he does go from boy to man. Peter Parker goes from insecure, petulant child to noble, strong, heroic young man. And he is a man, because, say it with me, "With great power, there must also come great responsibility." Similarly, Winston Churchill said, "A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality." In light of this, if there ever was a man, it is Spider-Man.

Spider-Man's greatness is also helped by the fact that he has, as Mr. Sims has observed, the best supporting cast in comics. Aunt May, Mary Jane Watson, J. Jonah Jameson, Harry Osborn, Gwen Stacy, Captain George Stacy, Flash Thompson, Robbie Robertson, and all the rest of them. And while not having the best rogues gallery around (that honor goes to Batman), he does have a quite memorable set of villains, including the Green Goblin, Doctor Octupus, Venom, Sandman, and the Vulture. I'd go on, but it's a bit beyond the scope of this post.

As hard to believe as it may seem, I've actually been into Spider-Man a lot longer than I've been into Batman. I remember borrowing the 2002 Sam Raimi Spider-Man movie from my Aunt when I was a kid, though my parents wouldn't let me watch it until a couple of years later. I still have fond memories of that movie, the original Raimi film holding a special place in my heart, kind of like Jean-Paul Valley. I remember pouring over Spider-Man: The Ultimate Guide, which, I'm sad to say, is the only exposure to the original comics that I've really had. (The originals are on my list, don't worry!) This in turn led me to read Ultimate Spider-Man, which I read faithfully until Prelude to Death of Spider-Man. I intend to return to it later, but I was thrown for a loop by certain plotting decisions that the esteemed Brian Michael Bendis made. On the other hand, it's worth noting that TVTropes refers to Ultimate Spider-Man #1 as the beginning of the Modern Age of Comics. I just find it difficult to believe that 10+ years worth of comics happened in a little over 1 year. They didn't even show the seasons changing! But I'm getting off track...

I've only read a little bit of the main continuity Spider-Man (such as the woefully messy Spider-Island crossover.), and I don't think much of the new stuff. I've been wanting to check out Scarlet Spider and the original stories, plus The Superior Spider-Man, which I heard was good, but I haven't had much interest in reading post-One More Day stuff. Then again, Chris Sims has gone on record saying that Brand New Day initiated a long overdue shake up in Spider-Man's status quo, but we'll get back to that later.

Spider-Man has appeared in many other media besides the many comic book series, with two movie series, multiple animated series (one of which I wrote a review on in the early history of this blog, The Spectacular Spider-Man), a short-lived live action television series, and even a Broadway musical! For the record, Marc Webb's The Amazing Spider-Man was decidedly underwhelming, and I haven't heard good things about its sequel, leaving me hesitant to embrace it.

A final question must be addressed concerning the topic of Spider-Man: If Spider-Man is, in fact, the greatest superhero in comics, then why do I prefer Batman and associates? I guess it's because the Batman mythos harbors another character similar to yet very different from Spider-Man: Tim Drake. I'm primarily a DC man, and I'll always cast my sword with Batman and his associates in that regard. I like Batman, Tim Drake's Robin, and Jean-Paul Valley's Azrael because they've got this edge to them, this "cool" factor. Spider-Man may be more fun, but Batman is more cool. Nevertheless, I'd like to make clear that Spider-Man is really the only Marvel hero that I've ever particularly liked. I intend to get into Thor later, and maybe Captain America, but for now, Spider-Man is my only hero at Marvel. But perhaps that will change someday. In the meantime, Thwip!

Image courtesy of designyoutrust.com

Review: Artemis Fowl - The Eternity Code: The Graphic Novel

Of all of the books in the Artemis Fowl series, the third book, The Eternity Code, was never one of my particular favorites. I mean, I like all of the books to one degree or another, and I'll be the first to defend The Eternity Code as a darn good book, but it's probably my fourth or fifth favorite of the eight installments, and my least favorite of the front half of the series. You know, the good ones. All that said, I had high hopes for the graphic novel version of The Eternity Code. The graphic novel renditions of Artemis Fowl and Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident were nothing short of stellar. Heck, Artemis Fowl: The Graphic Novel was what got me into the series in the first place! What could the third in a series of exceptional adaptations be but another unparallelled success?

You'd be surprised.

The basic plot of The Eternity Code is that Artemis uses reverse-engineered fairy technology to make a mini-supercomputer called "the C-Cube," which is basically an very clunky iPhone with some fancy gimmicks. He then tries to extract some money from an Evil Billionaire Industrialist named Jon Spiro in exchange for holding back the technology for a year. Unlike the majority of Artemis' plans, it doesn't go well, Butler is severely wounded, Haven City goes into lockdown, and it all leads up to Artemis having to team up with Holly, Juliet Butler, and Mulch to get the cube back. It's essentially the caper, that is, the heist.

The main problem with The Eternity Code: The Graphic Novel is that is doesn't trust the source material enough to float the story. Some of the book's most memorable moments and scenes are either heavily reduced or cut entirely. Ice Age Cryogenics? One panel. The Inkblot Tattoo Parlor? Two panels and a phone call. Loafer's relocation? One panel. The chapter dealing with Arno Blunt's fate? One. Flipping. Page. As a result, what could have been a fun adventure story filled with lots of scenes which were cool, funny, or awesome is instead a story which has none of those traits. The entire point of a graphic novel, the entire point of sequential art, is to combine literary storytelling with visually interesting images. When it's an adaptation of a book, this point is only compounded. A graphic novel adaptation of a book spells out what the author of the original thing had in mind when he wrote it, so as to give the readers a clear idea of what he was describing by providing a literal picture of it, while at the same time retelling the story in a visually interesting manner.

In this case, Colfer and his collaborators apparently felt the need to rearrange perfectly good scenes, eliminate or reduce others, and generally rush the whole process. Considering how long it took to get this dang thing to print, I can't believe they spent this much time and effort to produce something which has none of the emotional impact of the original, and instead pulls out all the stops to set up The Opal Deception. I just don't get how they had enough sense of detail to get the look of Chicago police officer's hats right, but didn't have the foggiest idea of how to tell the story like it originally was. Instead of the very cool looking LEP files that we got about the characters in the first two installments, we get clunky expository dialogue and one file on Jon Spiro. We could have gotten a file on the Chicago Outfit, a file on Loafers, a file on Arno Blunt, maybe another on Madame Ko. But we don't get any of that. Because of all of these things, the story suffers.

My other major complaint about this graphic novel involves the art. It's not that it's bad so much as that it's ill-suited for the story. It's just too busy. All of the new human character look ugly, none of them look like I envisioned, and Carla Frazetti wears a fedora for goodness sake. What is she, some kind of hipster mafioso? There's also the set-pieces. In the last two graphic novels, the art fit the organic, natural feel of the story. The dusty streets of Saigon, the green hills of Ireland, the icy tundra of north Russia. Haven City. In this book, we are treated to portions of London; Haven City; layovers in Tunisia and Ethiopia; and finally, Chicago, where the bulk of the book's back half takes place, with bits and pieces of Ireland tossed in. Giovanni Rigano's rendering of Chicago wasn't particularly good, probably because the cityscape wasn't the artist's forte. His style just isn't suited for it. On the whole, the art sorrowfully clashes with what we're going for. Also, the cover looks bland and generic. Thought I'd throw that out.

In sum, I fail to understand exactly why this book wound up like this. We had the same winning creative team (Eoin Colfer, Andrew Donkin, Giovanni Rigano, and Paolo Lamanna) and great source material, but instead we wound up with a weak, halfhearted imitation of the original. In some places, it's like the creators didn't even care, like when all of those scenes I mentioned were cut short, or when they resused panels from the previous books. That's just lazy. It's like Colfer and company were heckbent on plowing through this book as fast as possible so they could get to The Opal Deception. I for one believe that The Opal Deception was the best book in the whole series, but if this graphic novel is any indication of what the adaptation for that book is going to be, I can only shudder at what will come. At least they didn't sex-up Holly again like they did in the last two books, because that sure got Colfer and crew some heat, and in hindsight, I feel the same way. All I can say is that if Colfer is so eager to get to The Opal Deception, then it had better be worth it. At the rate he's going though, it won't be here until 2018, by which time we might finally have an Artemis Fowl movie! Maybe by then I'll have forgotten this monstrosity. Not that I need the help.

RATING: 5.5/10

Image courtesy of artemisfowl.wikia.com

Batman's Villains: The Greatest Rogues Gallery in Comics

Superman is the most iconic superhero, and Spider-Man has the best supporting cast, but Batman has the best villains. And believe me, I'm not just playing favorites. The Joker, Two-Face, the Riddler, the Scarecrow, Catwoman, Mr. Freeze, Ra's al Ghul, Bane, and the Penguin are all awesome villains who have battled the Dark Knight for decades and will continue to do so, even while those upstart new villains like the Court of Owls and the Black Glove and Professor Pyg try to make a name for themselves. These classic villains are all well known for their flamboyant appearances, unique methodologies, and compelling back stories. But none of these things tells us why they are the best at being bad. Indeed, there is one singular reason that Batman's villains, the best ones anyway, all share which makes them the greatest rogues gallery in comics.

First, to understand Batman's villains, we have to understand Batman. Indeed, we could easily turn that phrase around and say that to understand Batman, you have to understand his villains, but we'll get to that later. Right now, the key to understanding Batman is that he's a, to quote the Joker from The Dark Knight, "an unstoppable force." He's got the body, the brain, and the bucks to be the Batman, and he does exactly that: Be the Batman. He's the World's Greatest Detective. He's the Caped Crusader. He's the Dark Knight. He is Batman. He sees a problem, comes up with multiple plans to solve it, and then tackles it with gusto, always succeeding. He doesn't just see problems. A lot of times, he foresees problems, and takes appropriate preventative measures, such as always carrying a Kryptonite ring in case Superman goes rogue, or instilling a "back up personality" in his mind to take over in the event of... something happening, I don't know. Just got read Batman R.I.P. or look up the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh. I didn't. Anyway, the idea here is that Batman is ready, willing, and able to accomplish his goals, such goals including protecting the innocent, fighting against crime and corruption, and beating up evil clowns.

What does all of this have to do with why Batman's villains are the best rogues gallery in comics? The long and short of it is that Batman's best villains are the best around because they are all, to some extent or another, a reflection of some aspect of Batman himself. The Joker, for instance, is the "immovable object" to counter Batman's "unstoppable force"; that is, both are stubborn in their goals, which are polar opposites. The Joker is an unstoppable force for chaos while Batman is an unstoppable force for order. Two-Face is a bit more obvious, reflecting the dual nature of Batman and Bruce Wayne, though that's a bit of an oversimplification of what Chris Sims called "the most overrated truism in comics." The other ones are all a bit easier to identify. Riddler is really smart and does whatever he can to prove it; Batman is super smart and doesn't feel the need to prove anything. The Scarecrow uses fear as a weapon for evil; Batman uses fear as a weapon for good. Ra's al Ghul wants to make the world a better place by destroying it; Batman wants to make the world a better place by fixing it.

Catwoman is a bit more difficult to categorize (no pun intended), mainly because she's not really a villain anymore, and more of an anti-heroine. She does, however, reflect Batman in that she targets the criminal element for theft, and the criminal element only. Batman may make plans to deal with fellow superheroes, but only if they become part of the criminal element. In addition, both generally show restraint in pressing situations, not to mention having above average athletic and strategic capability, and both are willing to go to extremes to accomplish their goals. The most notable commonality, is simply that they are both the best at what they do. Even the Penguin, while an admittedly lesser villain in the Batman rogues gallery, reflects Batman in that he is a rich heir who turned to crime while Batman was a rich heir who decided to fight crime.

Batman's rogues gallery retains the honor of being the best in comics for one simple reason: They all, to one extent or another, reflect him or a faucet of him. All of the best villains, from the ones as old as the Joker to newer villains like Bane, are great villains because they have varying commonalities with a great hero, while at the same time being perfect foils to him. As the villain in Unbreakable said, "In the comic you know how you can tell who the arch villain is going to be? He's the exact opposite of the hero!" In a similar vein, the best villains, not just the best Batman villains, but the best villains everywhere, have to be the total opposite of the hero, but still have something in common in him in order to be able to have any sort of dynamic with them. Whether the link is in motivation, back story, or methodology, where you have this principal, you generally have a great villain. And having a great villain is the key to having a great story.

Image courtesy of free-wallpapersblog.blogspot.com

Review: Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Steve Rogers is doing okay.

After being frozen in ice for 70-plus years and surviving an alien invasion in New York during the events of The Avengers, Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, is doing alright for himself. He's working as a professional good guy at S.H.I.E.L.D. with his Avengers gal pal Black Widow, living in Washington, D.C. where he runs 13 miles daily, and he's made at least one new friend, a VA worker named Sam Wilson. He's integrating into the modern world fairly well, and has even reestablished contact with his now elderly former lady-love, Peggy Carter. Life is... not bad. At least he doesn't have post-traumatic stress disorder like fellow Avengers alumni Tony Stark.

But then stuff hits the fan, and stuff gets real.

It all starts when Steve's boss, Colonel Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., is locked out of important, top secret files. Troubled and suspicious, Fury seeks out Alexander Pierce, a senior S.H.E.L.D. leader, to delay the upcoming Project Insight. This project, theoretically, would use three new helicarriers to target criminals and terrorists before they have a chance to strike, which Captain America isn't too happy about. "This isn't freedom," Steve says to Fury. "This is fear." Fury is then critically wounded by a team of assailants led by the mysterious assassin known as the Winter Soldier. Just before the wounded Fury gives Steve a thumbdrive containing the aforementioned top secret files, he whispers to him, "Don't trust anyone." Steve must work with Black Widow, a.k.a. Natasha Romanoff, Sam, and Maria Hill to stop the Winter Soldier's deadly mission, figure just what the heck is going on with Project Insight, and foil the real villain's dastardly plans.

Okay, I just want to be clear, and I'm not gonna lie: This movie is awesome. Resoundingly so. I'd even say that it's resounding in its awesomeness. But empty praise tells little. What makes this movie so great? Without a doubt, I'd say that it's the best installment in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, up there with Iron Man and The Avengers. My personal favorite remains Thor, but Captain America: The Winter Soldier is undoubtedly the best.

But again, why? Firstly, this movie is constituted of some incredible acting talent. Everybody from Chris Evans as Captain America to Robert Redford as Alexander Pierce to Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury to Emily VanCamp as Agent 13 gives it their all in this picture. It's on the level of the The Dark Knight Saga in terms of sheer star power. It's just as much Fury and Black Widow's movie as it is Cap's. Even the guy who plays the Winter Soldier (I won't tell you who it is because, you know, spoilers. Also, don't Google "Winter soldier". You'll get immediate spoilers.), despite not actually being the main villain, totally kills it. It all adds up to the believable performances coalescing together with the remarkable onscreen chemistry to produce nothing short of brilliance.

Speaking of killing, we've got a lot of cool, killer action sequences which keep you on the edge of your seat. Beginning with the boat skirmish at the beginning between Cap, Black Widow, and the S.H.I.E.L.D./S.T.R.I.K.E. agents and Batroc (Georges St-Pierre, whom we previously saw in Sherlock Holmes, which starred Robert Downey, Jr.), and ending with the climactic battle between Captain America and the Winter Soldier aboard one of the helicarriers, these are some really cool action scenes. But the real thrills from this movie don't come from the fights and explosions; they come from the suspense.

To understand this faucet of the film, we must first understand that Captain America: The Winter Soldier is just as much political thriller as it is superhero action-adventure flick. More accurately, I believe that the writers said that it was a political thriller disguised as a superhero action-adventure flick, just as Captain America: The First Avenger was a throwback to pulpy World War 2 adventure movies disguised as a superhero movie. There's a lot of stuff in this movie that will make you go, "Whoa, I did not see that coming." It's intelligent and relevant in its sociopolitical commentary, asking hard-hitting questions about freedom, security, patriotism, heroism, trust, and friendship. One particularly heart-pounding scene features Steve and Natasha unearthing a devastating revelation about S.H.I.E.L.D. that rocks them to the core. The only explosions that took place in it were after everything else had happened... not that I don't like stuff blowing up, it's just that there's been a lot of it in superhero movies lately.

But while this film is indeed thrilling and exciting, it also has the capacity for some quiet, tender, humanizing moments. For instance, the first half or so of the first act is filled with Steve just going around doing things. He meets Sam while outrunning him multiple times while running... during the same run. He goes incognito to the Smithsonian exhibit dedicated to him and his World War Two buddies. He visits a now very elderly Peggy Carter, who encourages him when he says he isn't sure what the right thing to do is anymore. There's also the many great scenes between Steve and Natasha, Steve and Sam, Steve and Fury, Steve and Agent 13, and even Steve and Alexander Pierce which serve to illustrate the finely crafted characters that Marvel has managed to produce.

Miscellaneous things I liked about this movie include its various continuity nods, such as references to previous MCU films and set ups for future MCU films. For instance, we've got Brock Rumlow (Frank Grillo), known in the comics as the mercenary called Crossbones, the aforementioned Batroc, based off of Batroc the Leaper, as well as namedropping a certain neurosurgeon. I also liked the film's sense of humor, which, while by no means in the same shape of humor found in the Iron Man and Thor films, was, indeed, funny. Miscellaneous things I did not like include what they did with Jasper Sitwell (Maximiliano Hernandez). I don't know if it was an Life Model Decoy, or brainwashing, but he deserved better than that. Maybe he'll come up later in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., I don't know, but I just hope that he's not out completely.

All in all though, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, is a solid film. Sam Wilson/Falcon, the Winter Soldier, and Agent 13 were all a bit underused (Batroc is gets one action sequence), despite being heavily promoted, but I can deal with that because when they were used, they were used very well. The acting was top-notch, the script, cinematography and music were all great, and it really pulled of the political thriller thing. It's a great film, and I liked just about everything about it, minus the smattering of bad language. What's more, it made me want to check out the comics run by Ed Brubaker (co-author of Gotham Central), whose storyline introducing the Winter Soldier in the comics was used as an inspiration for this film. Incidentally, this film was also the perfect Geek Pride Day/Memorial Day weekend movie!

RATING: 8.5/10

Image courtesy of comingsoon.net