I admit that I'm not the biggest fan of Grant Morrison's run on Batman so far. Reading both the books and subsequent interviews with the man himself, I find my impression of him wandering between cleverness and pretentiousness. I like mysteries and symbolism as much as the next reader, but the obfuscation of it feels like it excludes everyone except the dedicated reader. Thankfully, despite being a direct continuation of that run, Morrison's new series is a completely different beast. Abandoning the overcomplicated plot of his past issues, Morrison tries to invoke the simple, linear storytelling of his work in the excellent All-Star Superman.
For those who don't read the news, Batman is dead (well, sealed in another dimension. DC obfuscated his fate to increase sales). So Dick Grayson (aka Robin/Nightwing), is the new Batman, and Bruce Wayne's son, Damien (a character created by Morrison), is the new Robin. With a minimal amount of text, Dick Grayson's discomfort behind the Batman cowl is well-demonstrated without making him feel too ineffective as Batman. As a man clearly afraid of not living up to such a mythic figure, it's compelling to see if it will become his undoing. Damien, on the other hand, sounds as ridiculous and unnatural as he ever did in previous Batman stories. It feels like he's channeling Jeph Loeb, being brash and arrogant as a misunderstood attempt at "cool". Okay, to be fair, he's not as annoying in this issue as he has been, but the underlying problems are still apparent. Damien could very well be the most unpopular Robin since Jason Todd, and I would honestly not be surprised if for a bit of fun, Morrison engineered a reader vote for his fate.
With new heroes, Batman & Robin #1 also introduces a new group of villains; the Circus of Strange. The issue begins with new villain Mr. Toad driving an old-fashioned car recklessly down a tunnel to escape from the cops, when a now-flying Batmobile catches up and blows him off the road. I really like this scene for its stylistic flare. Frank Quitely's art evokes 1950s sci-fi with the flying Batmobile, and the heavy use of streak-lines to reflect the speed is very effective for such a simplistic chase scene. It's a shame that Quitely's art isn't so consistently good elsewhere in the issue. As soon as Mr. Toad's in prison, the art for some reason becomes sketchy and is simply not appealing to look at. Later on, we're introduced to a man on fire and the leader of the Circus himself, Pyg, who puts doll masks on people in order to transform them into his slaves. This would have been amazing if it wasn't so cliche. Morrison did literally nothing to develop the character into something new and exciting, and I was left wanting more. Perhaps next issue...
Overall, I liked the direction that Morrison took with the writing, but I feel he went too far. If you make writing too minimal, it becomes increasingly expositional, and that's exactly what happened here. Still, I found myself re-reading the issue several times (not something I do very often) and I can happily recommend it.
Honestly I don't normally like batman, only really read Kevin Smith's short run and some of the All Star stuff. However this [and Detective comics due to it being Batwoman/Question] is luring me in. I think its almost entierly the creative team of Morrison/Quitely from All Star that I love.
To be honest I love his art, but as you have said this doesen't seem to match to the usual standard. I think I'll give this one a miss however, as I am attempting to cut back. Unless you can give me a solid reason that I should be picking it up [a more compelling review of issue 2 maybe]. _________________ Itchy... Tasty
Wow… I’ve pretty much read the list of Alan Moore’s most famous works (Watchmen, V for Vendetta, From Hell League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, etc) and I have to ask why Top 10 is not on that list. For me, this is not only the most entertaining Alan Moore comic I’ve ever read, but probably the most entertaining comic from any author. I’m rather sad that Moore only wrote twelve issues; he set up several plot threads for further development at the end of the last issue and I would really like to see where he could take them (Smax mini-series not included).
Okay, I actually can hazard a guess as to why Top 10 isn’t all that famous. The book’s setting is Neopolis, a fictional American city where all the residents are stereotypical comic book characters, such as superheroes, supervillains, monsters, robots, aliens, intelligent animals, gods, etc. With a cultural background limited to a select audience and an incredible scope for variety, Top 10 outwardly looks like it’s written with comic book geeks in mind (and after reading it, I’m not entirely sure if that isn’t actually the case). However, what ultimately makes Top 10 a relatable series is that the central characters are police officers. Anyone who’s seen a standard television cop drama (which is practically everyone) should be able to get the gist of what kind of characters appear in Top 10 and the general formula for plot progression.
The book kicks off with new recruit Robyn Slinger (aka “Toybox”) starting her first day at the precinct. Flying in the face of expectations, Moore spends very little time dwelling on Robyn’s introduction or her P.O.V. After some establishing scenes, Robyn soon gets partnered with a gruff muscular blue man called Smax and the focus quickly switches to the first case. Top 10 wastes no time getting into multiple interwoven plot threads; there’s a good mixture of on-going detective mysteries, more straightforward cases and character developments. Everyone gets their time in the spotlight, and there’s a wonderful array of interactions that bring out everyone’s personality. Quite frankly, Top 10 is a perfect demonstration of the mastery of Alan Moore, as he was not only able to interweave all these threads together believably, but within the space of twelve issues. Most writers can’t fit even half the content of Top 10 into twelve issues.
Rather than attempting the impossible effort of describing such a complicated plot, I would prefer to point out a few things about Top 10 that I found particularly memorable. First there is Sergeant Caesar, an intelligent dog in a humanoid exoskeleton, often wearing colourful shirts and a pair of glasses. Now that is a fascinating contradiction in itself, but Moore takes the character further by addressing how he works on an emotional level. One particular subtlety is that Caesar can lie about his intelligent dog psychology and no one is able to call him out on it. Telling an officer that he’s only sexually attracted to other dogs, and then recalling the lie to another officer later was particularly hilarious.
Then there’s another officer who doesn’t join the precinct until the last couple of issues, yet is probably the most entertaining of all of them. Joe Pi is an A.I. brought in to replace an officer killed in action. Naturally the other officers feel threatened by Joe because of his calculating abilities and their preconceptions of an emotionless machine, so Joe has to go out of his way to prove his sympathetic personality through good humour and a generally likeable persona. And yet his efficiency and general lack of mistakes leaves me wondering how he actually comes to be so sympathetic. There could have been some interesting questions about A.I. psychology in Top 10 if only Alan Moore kept on writing.
Of course, the cases themselves can be just as fun as the protagonists. In no particular order, there’s a drunk Godzilla using trucks as beer cans, a cat-and-mouse fight that escalates into its own continuity-erasing comic book crossover (with “Galacpuss” no less), and an insane telekinetic who believes himself to be Santa, steals reindeer from the zoo, makes them fly with his powers and gives one of them a heart attack. Genius.
As the artist, Gene Ha was perfectly chosen for Top 10. For such a heavy book, the art perfectly conveys detail and emotion without feeling like it’s trying to compete with Moore’s sometimes page-filling writing. Ha should be particularly credited for his wonderful landscapes of Neopolis, and for the sheer variety of comic book character designs that homage a variety of popular icons, if not featuring them altogether as cameos.
Top 10 is a book that’s best read as a cop drama first and a superhero comic second, but it’s the play between both that makes it such a compelling read. Down-to-earth relatability has always been best paired with a fantastic concept, and that has never been better demonstrated than Top 10.
DC tries something new this week (if you can call a throwback to 1940s comic magazines “new”, but hey, you take what you can get) in the form of Wednesday Comics, a collection of fifteen one-page serials that will continue every week. Featured within is a mix of DC’s most famous superheroes (Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, etc) along with some relative unknowns. Each story also features a different writer and artist, giving Wednesday Comics a similar mix of famous names (Neil Gaiman, Brian Azzarello, Adam Kubert, Kurt Busiek) and unknowns. Another unique detail to Wednesday Comics is that each page is four times the size of a standard comic book page, with the book folded like a newspaper to fit on store shelves. I presume the comic was made larger to fit more panels on the page, but I think DC backfired by making it too large. Bigger than an oversized hardcover, not only is Wednesday Comics difficult to read comfortably, but the folding also obstructs the artwork. It’s an unnecessary complication to something that is supposed to be simple entertainment.
Anyway, with the obvious limitations of one-page stories, it’s clear that DC aren’t attempting to reach new literary or emotional heights with Wednesday Comics. The question is how well the one-page format works as a novelty and whether the novelty can stay interesting long enough to get readers continuing to purchase it every week. I personally think it has potential. It might not be as engrossing as a modern comic but the simple, fast-moving stories carry their own charm and, in the right hands, can prove to be a lot of fun.
I have to emphasise “in the right hands” in Wednesday Comics’ case, because quite frankly I don’t feel that all the writers really knew how to make the most of the new format. Two notable offenders were Kurt Busiek’s Green Lantern and Adam Kubert’s Sgt. Rock, where the strips read as if they were simply first pages in a standard comic. Now ask yourself this question; would you enjoy standard comics if they were released at a rate of one-page-per-week? Then perhaps you can understand why it doesn’t work here. For something like this, writers need to think outside the box, providing the readers with an incentive to keep reading. If your strip has no hook, then it just isn’t going to interest people. That said, no one missed the point more completely than Ben Caldwell in his Wonder Woman strip. His reaction to the one-page format was to force as much story as he could into his page. I counted fifty panels in total, many so small that despite being a quadruple-size comic, I had to squint in order to make out the detail. Utterly ridiculous.
Thankfully, there were some enjoyable highlights in Wednesday Comics. Brian Azzarello’s Batman strip did everything right. Had I not known it was a serial, I would have said it made a great short story in it’s own right. A tragedy permeated by the fact that sometimes the heroes don’t always act in time, transformed into a hook by the promise of a continuing issue. Karl Kerschl’s Flash strip was also enjoyable, and although not as emotionally engaging as Batman, it at least felt substantial and had an intriguing hook at the end. Superman makes a good runner-up simply because of Lee Bermejo’s typically excellent artwork.
So at the end of the day, I’m feeling pretty underwhelmed by Wednesday Comics. Granted, I wasn’t expecting much to begin with, but after reading the excellent Batman strip (which DC put at the front), I was disappointed to see that the majority did not hold up to that level of quality. That said, maybe I’m jumping the gun. Despite my initial impressions, I think that due to the nature of the format, it’s too early to tell whether it’s worth continuing or dropping altogether. Next week, however, I’ll have a better perspective. In the meantime, …meh.
Thanks for taking the time out to write these reviews, i will read them properly later and maybe post some comments, but for now cheerio _________________
I just finished reading Wednesday Comics #2, and now I'm in a better position to comment on the stories.
Batman has now fallen into the pattern of "Let's release a standard comic at a one-page-per-week rate", so despite that Azzarello's writing is still very good, my interest in it has declined since last issue. Green Lantern and Sgt. Rock are still guilty of that trait, but now the latter is pulled off so abysmally that I no longer even care to read it. I'm also disappointed by the latest development in the Flash strip, as what I expected to be a sinister trap for the hero was in actuality part of the on-going love story.
I would now like to add Hawkman, Metal Men and Metamorpho to Wonder Woman and Sgt. Rock in the list of "Don't bother" strips. The first strip is a horrible attempt at poetic license (and I do mean horrible), the second relies entirely on metal-based jokes (really?...), and the third is a blatant and crap rip-off of Alan Moore's Tom Strong comic series.
Yeah... Neil Gaiman actually decided to shorten the development of the main story in favour of cartoon kids telling us how awesome Metamorpho is. How on earth did Gaiman figure that rehashing the first issue of Tom Strong would not go unnoticed WHEN THIS ISSUE WAS RELEASED ON THE SAME DAY AS A REPRINT OF TOM STRONG #1!? It beggars belief that an award-winning author had so little originality that he couldn't do something original with the one-page format.
With all this negativity, there is one jewel in Wednesday Comics' crown that has revealed itself; Kamandi. Not only is this the most accurate recreation of a classic 1950s comic strip, but it also shows the most imagination, characterisation and effective use of the one-page format. The writing may be a little stinted, but that doesn't stop Kamandi being the main strip to read.
Unless my opinions significantly change with the following issues, I'll refrain from commenting on individual stories. As for Wednesday Comics as a whole, I have to say that I'm thoroughly enjoying 2/3 of the strips, and that I'm willing to keep reading. I'm certainly not going to get light entertainment like this anywhere else in comics.
Right, it's a new academic year and a new time for REVIEWS!!!
A Bit of JMS Spider-man – “Unintended Consequences” and “Happy Birthday” Review
Back in 2001, acclaimed writer Joe Michael Straczynski began work on a popular run of Amazing Spider-man that lasted until 2005. I recently picked up a collection of three trades from the series, along with the recommendation that it pioneered a serious direction for Spider-man that was of very high quality (although the 1990s was so bad that, let’s face it, Ultimates 3 would appear high quality in comparison). But having read through two of the books now, I can’t say it was particularly satisfying. JMS writes his dialogue well enough, but as I’ve begun to notice with the likes of Ed Brubaker, good writing doesn’t mean very much when you don’t have an interesting story to tell.
While JMS writes a good variety of science fiction, there isn’t a single concept that feels original or inspired. His “gimmick” seems to be to resurrect one dead science fiction trope after another, failing to use them in any meaningful way. That said, it’s hard to see how JMS could develop the series when the main characters are stuck in a complete rut. Peter Parker’s life is Boring. Bland. Banal. Every moment where I have to sit through Peter’s preaching of life lessons in a science class slowly drains my will to live. Why make Peter a science teacher to begin with anyway? Sure it’s a natural progression for the character, but it’s absolutely no fun to read, which one would presume was the whole point of writing a comic book.
Then there’s Aunt May and Mary Jane. Or should I say, cardboard cut-outs of Aunt May and Mary Jane? Seriously, there is no depth to either of these characters. It’s as if Peter constantly pulls a little string on their backs that makes them repeat certain catchphrases. Aunt May says, “I don’t like seeing Peter as Spider-man, but I’ll have to get used to it”, and Mary Jane says “I love you Peter and support whatever you have to do”, or alternatively, “I want sex. GIVE ME SEX!” There’s not even any satisfaction in seeing Spider-man. He never does anything exciting, and anytime he comes within fifty feet of an attractive woman, JMS brings up the big “I’m married” sign without motivation and ends any wishful thinking the reader might have.
*sigh* I wish Brian Bendis was writing this book... But that probably wouldn’t change much. The problem is that Spider-man is now tied to an overly repetitious routine that gets old incredibly fast. If only there was some way to get Peter out of that teaching job so he doesn’t bore the readers every single week. If only Peter had a perfectly natural excuse to break up his marriage so that he could start dating chicks again. If only there was some way to get JMS off the book so we don’t have to read yet another story about radioactive, mind-controlling creatures from outer space in another dimension at the far-flung reaches of time. Hmm… *scratches chin* Maybe some sort of retcon could accomplish all of this. Would Marvel be bold enough to attempt such a thing? We can only hope… and pray.
Spider-man Blue Review
The death of Gwen Stacy, Peter Parker’s first girlfriend, is probably the most important event in the Spider-man canon. Yet Gwen Stacy herself is a character always talked about, but never given a voice. What did Gwen have that made her so special to Peter? Why is she still so important over 30 years after her death? With intrigue, I picked up the 2002 limited series, Spider-man Blue, created by the team of the classic “Superman For All Seasons”, Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale. According to blurbs, this is the book that explains the love between Peter and Gwen.
It doesn’t. Spider-man Blue was not about Peter and Gwen’s relationship, but the events leading up to their romance. As such, Gwen actually didn’t feature much in the book at all, and when she did appear, there was practically no expression of her character. Peter’s own narration of the story was the only thing that suggested that Gwen was anything more than an average fling, and part of me wishes that some of that expression was brought into the actual story. But with all that said, Spider-man Blue was not actually a bad book. It was just an inappropriate choice of story for what was being advertised.
Spider-man Blue could probably best be described as a second look at a short-but-significant period in Spider-man’s history, covering the introductions of Harry Osborn, Gwen Stacy and Mary-Jane Watson and other significant developments in Peter Parker’s social life. Coinciding with the social drama is a variety of classic villain fights to balance the book out, with fan favourites such as the Rhino, the Lizard and the Vulture. I don’t know how much of this book is Jeph Loeb’s original writing and how much has been taken from the original comics, although I suppose it doesn’t really matter. The flow of the story from one event to another feels entirely natural.
Jeph Loeb’s writing is just as real and moving as it was in Superman For All Seasons. The narration by Peter Parker evokes that familiar sense of nostalgia and the integration of metaphors and on-going themes gives it a poetic license that feels particularly welcome in this sort of story. Although we never get a window into the lives of the secondary characters as Superman For All Seasons did, they are for the most part open and expressive as individuals. The villains perhaps don’t have as much development, but then they were always a simple excuse for some impressive fights, so we can let that slide.
Tim Sale’s artwork in Spider-man Blue is probably the best I’ve seen from him, if not the most evocative of classic comic design. Sale perfectly blends the traditional 1970s Spider-man art with his own distinctive style to create a book that feels both familiar and fascinating. As in Superman For All Seasons, Sale takes advantage of big panels to show off the depth and detail in his pencilling. The fight scenes should receive special credit as Sale draws the most imaginative, colourful panels that I’ve seen from a Spider-man artist; no elaborate trick from classic Spider-man has been spared.
There aren’t many Spider-man books I know of that can be called definitive, but Spider-man Blue is certainly a definitive Spider-man book. It may not fulfil the main hook, which is to explain Peter’s love for Gwen Stacy, but it is emotionally fulfilling in every other way and absolutely deserving of a purchase from anyone who enjoys Spider-man.
As popular as Ed Brubaker is in the genre of crime noir comic books, I have yet to read a comic written by him that I properly enjoy. His dialogue-writing skills are up there with the best comic book writers, but the direction that his stories take always feel incredibly bland and predictable in comparison. There hasn’t been a concept that engaged me, or a plot twist that surprised me. And while Batman: The Man Who Laughs is certainly the best I’ve seen from him thus far, it’s still a good example of how he can stop a story short of its potential.
The Man Who Laughs is a graphic novel that tells the story of the Joker’s first appearance in Gotham City, following the origin story depicted in Alan Moore’s classic graphic novel, The Killing Joke. This book also establishes the opening of Arkham Asylum and the creation of the Bat Signal, making this an important piece of canon for the fans. And as a very nice touch, The Man Who Laughs is actually a pseudo-remake of the original Joker story created by Bob Kane back in the 1940s, where the Joker killed a string of wealthy billionaires to steal their jewels.
The story begins with what is debatably the best part of the entire book, the discovery of several victims that the Joker used to create his famous Joker Serum. It’s a fantastically horrific scene that sets up the character perfectly. In the next scene, the Joker hijacks a television news camera to inform the public that a wealthy billionaire will die at midnight, and already the first problem with The Man Who Laughs comes to light. The Joker’s dialogue has been reduced to a string of unnaturally forced bad jokes. It’s a far cry from the genuinely witty dialogue that other writers have given the Joker, and it’s only without the wit that you realise how charismatic it made his character. So now the Joker is no longer a joy to behold on the page, we’ve lost one of the story’s main hooks.
But does the Joker still kill people in a variety of interesting ways? Well, after the Joker uses the time-released poison that appeared in the original Bob Kane story, he simply gets his masked henchmen to storm the buildings and shoot the victims. While Bruce Wayne is himself poisoned by Joker Venom (the other high point of the story), it’s never explained how. Compared to Bob Kane having Joker hide in a suit of armour and disguise himself as the police chief, this is incredibly unimaginative. Any stock villain can just storm the buildings, so why have the Joker do it twice?
Before I continue, I’d also like to question Brubaker’s depiction of the mentally ill men who the Joker releases on a shooting spree. As much as I am aware of how badly the mentally ill have been stereotyped in the past, I can’t recall a comic book where they’ve been depicted in such an alienating and derogatory fashion as they have here. I tried looking at this in the intended context, but it was just so offensive that it left a sour taste in my mouth when I put the book down.
Finally, we come to the climax of the story and the Joker’s true motivations are revealed. It turns out the Joker has been driven by chemically induced hatred for the citizens of Gotham. Seriously? He’s driven by hatred? What happened to “Life is a joke, and death is the punchline”, the philosophy that makes the Joker such a force of chaos? How does hatred inspire the Joker’s love of performance murders? This twist is not only one of the most out-of-character turns we’ve seen in recent years, but it completely rejects everything that made the Joker a fascinating villain.
So in conclusion, we have an important Joker story that spoils the Joker character in every conceivable way. It’s an incredible feat to take what is debatably the most unique and charismatic villain in comic book history and make him the bland and unappealing figure that he was in The Man Who Laughs. I could give the rest of Ed Brubaker’s story and Doug Mahnke’s art a good write-up if it wasn’t for this shameful treatment of an icon. Seriously, everything except the Joker was enjoyable. Bruce Wayne’s poisoning was a particularly gripping moment. But as with all the Ed Brubaker comics I’ve read, there is unmet potential here and the story feels stilted as a result.
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