SIEGE #2 Review

I hate eating my words.

It was when Marvel was publishing [i]Secret Invasion[/i] that I decided a rule that I thought would better my reading experience, my comic book spending, and my emotions all at once. I decided I was going to boycott major comic book crossover events forever.

They all came out the same way: Civil War, World War Hulk, Secret Invasion, what have you. They start with this hook that gets you reading, you get curious enough to buy some tie-in issues, and a few issues in it starts to run out of steam. I kept buying issues, thinking it might get better, only for the remaining issues to be total disappointments that made me regret buying into the hype in the first place. The final issues would always contain these cop-out endings that really, in the end, were just marketing teasers for books being published after the event.

I mean, look at Civil War #7. Each page was almost an advertisement for a different title. "Spider-Man's in black! The Punisher is going to become the next Captain America! The Initiative is being assembled!" The end of Secret Invasion: "Norman Osborne's in charge! Look at how many books this is going to affect! Don't forget to buy the Dark Reign one-shot!" The gist of each of these endings? Buy more books. And each time I think: This is what the pressure was leading up to? This is what I've been conjecturing about for months? The experience is almost akin to that moment in A Christmas Story when Ralphie eagerly decodes a secret message from Little Orphan Annie only for it to read "Be sure to drink your ovaltine."

But then along came Siege. I'm a little older, a little wiser, so I know not to buy into this "AN EVENT SEVEN YEARS IN THE MAKING" bullshit. Sure, it may use the last seven years of continuity, but I highly highly doubt that seven years ago, the whole reason why Bendis was disassembling the Avengers and planning the House of M storyline was just so he could have Norman Osborn and company invade Asgard.

So why am I buying this then? The event just seems like too much fun not to. The whole concept - Norman Osborn leading the Dark Avengers up against Thor, the Asgardians, and the Avengers, will only lead in disaster. Everyone knows that this enormous hubris is going to end with his ass getting handed to him. Even Bullseye, possibly the most fearless allies Osborne has, were like "Hell no!" when Osborn gave the orders. It's like when Hitler tried to invade Russia.

This whole event has been really well paced. It's been packed full of action, illustrated by none other than the amazing Thor artist Olivier Coipel, whose art is so big and yet so clean that he even rivals greats like Bryan Hitch and John Cassaday. Thor was taken out in the first issue, and now the recently revived Steve Rogers is leading the Avengers after a rousing speech about taking back America. And in this issue, we see just exactly how powerful The Sentry really is. Turns out that whole power of a thousand exploding suns thing wasn't just an expression.

Looking forward to seeing how this pans out. Check back after Siege #4 is released to see if I end up resuming my boycott on crossover events.

Review: Ages of Thunder

Comic book fans aside, who the hell wants to read about Thor?

Aside from his silly colorful costume and winged helmet, he's a freakin God for Chrissakes. An actual Norse god. What the Hell is he doing in the Marvel universe? Not to mention the fact that he says "thou" enough to make you wish he could get kicked in the gnads a few times.

Most people that haven't read comics don't want to read about a character like that, which seriously makes me wonder if the Thor movie will have any success with a mainstream audience. People want to read about badass superheroes with cool costumes and powers. People want to read about Wolverine and Spider-Man. People don't want to read about a character that wears an American flag on his costume, a blaxpoitation superhero, or a kung fu superhero that compresses chi into his hand.

And yet, a funny thing has happened at Marvel over the last 5 or 6 years. Imagine if Republicans started coming out in support of gay marriage and supporting socialized medicine and Democrats reacted by merely slapping the cover of a leatherbound bible with the backs of their hands. It would be a topsy turvy world, which is exactly what was happening with the characters at Marvel. Loser characters were being handled by the best talent in the company and consistently making the top 10, whereas staples like Spider-Man and the X-Men stagnated and slipped into the 50,000's in sales.

Bendis started throwing Luke Cage into all his books and made people realize he's actually cool. Fraction and Brubaker took on Iron Fist and turned a campy 70's kung fu hero an turned his book into a multi-generational mythological machine. Brubaker started scripting and "death and return of..." story for Captain America that brought people to tears. And just a few years ago, J. Michael Straczynski took on the Norse god of thunder in a revamp for the ages. The book sold in the 100,000's, earned JMS a "Best Writer" nomination at this year's Eisners, and had people scrambling for collections of the classic Thor stories from the heyday.

Thor was cool again.

I must confess that as much critical acclaim as JMS's new THOR reboot has been garnering, I still haven't read beyond the first six issues. I know, I know... that's a big blow to my credibility as a comic book blogger. But I just have a sneaking suspicion that his whole run (which will be concluding shortly) will be collected in a giant gorgeous hardcover omnibus edition. One so pretty that all my friends will want to come over and just look at it, touch it. Okay, maybe not. But I do like to fantasize about things like that sometimes.

But then, at a comic book store, somebody warned me that there was critical plot information contained in the series of one-shot Thor stories that Matt Fraction had been writing, all collected in the Ages of Thunder volume. So I had some catching up to do. I also kinda figured I could pretend I was a real scholar researching a mythological figure while I was at it.

Now, Thor was an entertaining read and all, but he still seemed like a goody two shoes. I mean, what the hell was a god doing on Earth on the Avengers, getting involved with Earthly drama? It just doesn't seem like a god's style. Then, I read these stories, which take place in Asgard before Thor ever got involved with the Earth.

Man, was that guy badass.

This guy puts every man to shame. You could write more facts about this guy than you could about Chuck Norris. I can't remember how many times his face got completely covered with the fresh blood from a Frost Giant's corpse. And as if leaping through a Frost Giant's head with his hammer wasn't enough, I just can't tell you how awesome it was when Thor single handedly won a war against entire armies of the Undead when he single handedly piloted a giant Blood Colossus.

Oh man. Just that image slowly sinking into the blood from the battlefield, about to rise within the Colossus's skeleton. Chilling, I tell you. Chilling!

But the biggest surprise wasn't Thor's toughness. Everybody knew he was strong. What this story surprised me about is that the guy was actually a huge asshole. The three one-shots contained within are all essentially three acts about Thor's arrogance and the detriment it has on Asgard and the humans of Midgard. I mean, during Asgard's famine, the guy had hoarded golden apples and refused to share them with his starving comrades. What a cold-hearted bastard.

The climax of the book is actually the match of eternity. Thor vs. his own father, Odin. If you thought Thor was menacing, just look at the fully armored Odin brandishing his gargantuan sword. Holy shit.


Pick up this book if you'd like to see an awesome badass big mythological fall from heaven type of story. Matt Fraction, I salute you.

Review: Detective Comics #854

I know, I know... I have not been posting in this enough. It's been what, two months?

As much as I could complain about being chronologically drained by my work, it really only takes about 45 minutes or less to crank out one of these posts. I had the time - that's not the issue. I just never had the inspiration.

See, I tend to get the most enthusiasm for writing in this thing whenever I read a comic I really really like, or have some ideas that have been making me think of comics, and at some point along the line I get narcissistic enough to think people actually want to read what I have to say about funnybooks. And lately, the comics I've been reading haven't been giving me that spark. And I regularly pick up DEADPOOL, UNCANNY X-MEN, ASTONISHING X-MEN (soon to be dropped), GREEN ARROW & BLACK CANARY, THE WALKING DEAD, INVINCIBLE, CRIMINAL, and probably a few others I'm not recalling at the moment. Sure, the best books like FABLES and SCALPED are missing from the list, but I pick up those in trades.

Lately, my trips to the comic book store have been about every month, so I tend to get all of these titles in one big bag. It's usually about 10-12 books, enough to give me a few hours of reading the day of purchase. And honestly, in those few hours, I get at most a surprise here, a chuckle there, and even, God forbid, the occasional "Gee whiz!" But honestly, not a whole lot else comes about. Nothing to write home about, and certainly nothing to write the one or two people that read this blog either.

I picked up DETECTIVE COMICS #854 for a couple of reasons. One, there's an awesome creative team at the helm, with consistently good Greg Rucka writing and the sublimely awesome JH Williams III, who wowed me considerably with his work on Alan Moore's PROMETHEA.

Second, it features Batwoman, a character who I always thought was cool ever since her introduction in 52 but has unfairly gotten a bad rap since.

Third, and most importantly, guilt.

I say that because I've found from my years of comic book shopping that you can't just walk into a comic book store without buying anything. You walk into a store that, if you're lucky, has about one or two other people in it besides you and whoever's working there. The owner greets you with a friendly howdy, asks you if you need anything, and maybe even chats with you a bit and asks you where you're from. You spend about ten minutes browsing the wares, maybe even get a recommendation or two, and then you just... leave?

No, that's not right.

You can't walk out empty-handed from these things. You just can't. So through a sense of guilt and moral obligation, I picked up the only book that looked halfway decent, which again, happened to be DETECTIVE COMICS #854.

Holy smokes, did this book surprise me.


I must confess, as much as I built up my enthusiasm for this book, I can't really say much about the story. The real kicker hasn't really hit yet - more than anything this book is just reacclamating everybody to her character. "Oh yeah, she's a lesbian!" must have been a response from at least one comic book fan who hasn't even thought about her since 52. But still, the script is packed with that classic Greg Rucka wit to it. Like, in case you were wondering how a any chick could effectively fight crime with that flowing red hair of hers, she loses it about six pages in, on a tip from Batman, no less, who says "do something about your hair. One pull, the fight's over for you."

But the real treat of this book is really JH Williams III's delicious art, which is absolutely spellbinding. Take note - that's a word I don't use often. I reserved it specifically for this moment.

I'm also going to go out on a limb and gamble a lot of my credibility when it comes to fiction and narrative and say that even if the story doesn't go anywhere, the art is so good it doesn't even matter. Saying this goes completely against my ego, as I hate, hate, hate it when people say "Comics are all about the art" or "I didn't like it because I didn't like the art."

"The art's meant to tell a story - dammit!" has always been my mantra, and I have to break the rhythm this time around because Williams' art is that fucking good. Rarely have I seen an artist that is so strong on all fronts, whether it's detailed photorealism, deeply communicative facial expressions, or even just quick pacing. He's even good at the really angular, dynamic looking grids that Bendis is famous for, something that even big time artists like Bryan Hitch and Alex Ross have never really been able to pull off well. Christ, even if the story bores you, if nothing else you're left with a dynamite 4 dollar art book.

And speaking of 4 dollars, while I've been really frustrated with the price point hikes that the publishers have been pulling (I mean seriously, couldn't they just have jumped to 3.25 or 3.50?), I have to hand it to DC for having the good sense to give us more value by giving us a second feature. That's right, kids - the story doesn't end with Batwoman in this book. At the very end, you get a bonus 8 page comic featuring none other than The Question, also penned by Greg Rucka.

Needless to say, I'm looking forward to what's to come. It might not be something I'm going to be telling my kids about ten years from now, but hey, you just might see me talking about it next month.

Some Opinions on X-Men Origins: Wolverine

This seemed like such a shoe-in.

While the disappointment that was X-Men 3: The Last Stand suffered from an excessive amount of characters and plotlines, a brief timetable for filming, and the ill-suited director Brett Ratner (of Rush Hour fame), it really seemed like they would get their act together for the fourth installment in the movie franchise.

When it was announced that Gavin Hood, the director of the award-winning African film Tsotsi was going to be behind the helm, things looked promising. The fact that they were spending so much time on the film made it seem like things were going to be even better. At the time, it seemed that there was no weak link in the formula. A very focused and human look at the world's favorite mutant was potentially in the works, and there weren't any weak links that could be spotted.

Of course, I hadn't read the script at the time when I was forecasting. My mistake! While it seems like I had high hopes for the franchise, I knew that the law of superhero movie production was that unless Chris Nolan is behind the camera, there is no way to tell whether the project is going to be good. I walked in expecting nothing more than a decent film: some *snikt*ing here and there, some fun fights and some even cooler flashback sequences would have made my night.

Instead, we were given a real snoozer of a film. While the first two X-Men films did an excellent job (arguably an even better job than the comics at the time were doing) of developing the characters, showing anti-mutant tensions, and above all else, showing why the X-Men matter in their world, X-Men Origins: Wolverine doesn't seem to have any heart at all. The severe lack of time they spent establishing the character and the conflicts in his world made for a plot structure without any foundation. Consequently, as the plot structure continues to build upon that vacuum, the pacing sputs and stalls, the dramatic moments are stale, and it builds to a conclusion that is almost laughable.

As if that wasn't enough, the cancer that infected the crux of the story seemed to have gone malignant through the scripting process, because various other aspects of the film seemed to be infected as well. Virtually all of the dialogue and plot structure are insultingly predictable, with a plot twist that is so transparent it makes you wonder why it was even there at all.

Like the other films, there are various unnamed references to the diverse array of mutants in the X-Men universe, and yet most of these references are completely contradictory to the canon of the comics. Silverfox, Wolverine's love interest of Native American descent, reveals toward the end of the film that she has a sister in captivity. That sister ends up being Emma Frost. Aside from the fact that there is no sibling relation of this kind in the comic book, tell me - How on Earth could a Native American woman be related directly to a blonde British woman? In this case, the writers consciously entered a lose-lose situation where the references pass over the mainstream audience's head and the devoted comic book fans who actually get the references are insulted by the lack of reverence for the source material. Why bother?

One of the primary functions of the movie was to cement the backstory of the character and lead into the continuity of the X-Men trilogy. However, this movie only seems to confuse and convolute the continuity of the story, not clarify it. One of the biggest, gaping plotholes of the whole construction is that the entire movie focuses on the relationship between Wolverine and big brother Sabretooth over the years, as Wolverine fights his animalistic nature and Sabretooth relishes it, teasing his brother over the denial of his true nature. Not only does Liev Schreiber's portrayal of a physically flexible, agile, short-haired, and conversant Sabretooth completely contradict the stiff in body and language take on the character in the first X-Men movie, but there is one very critical gap in the link between the two films: Wolverine loses his memory of his past at the end of the film, whereas Sabretooth does not.

See the resemblance?

Now tell me, why does a character who says "You will always be my brother" as he departs at the end of this film suddenly become quiet and demure during their subsequent encounters later in the timeline? Wouldn't he make some passing reference to their relation? It makes you wonder why they bothered at...

Wait a second, did I already say that about something else in the movie? Maybe I'm getting it wrong by breaking the movie down and talking about how each component not needing to exist and missing the big picture: the whole movie doesn't need to exist. See it and your 90 minutes of boredom at the viewing experience will incline you to agree.

"This is not a comic book"

I think everybody remembers Adrian Veidt's famous moment of revelation at the end of Watchmen, when just after he has explained his master plan in the most stereotypically supervillain manner, he gives the most chilling response to the question, "When are you planning to do it?"

"Do it?" Adrian replied.

"Dan, I'm not a Republic serial villain. Do you seriously think I'd explain my master-stroke if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting its outcome?"

Adrian Veidt is essentially saying "This is not a comic book." You can't expect the typical tropes and tricks of comic book storytelling to apply to the real world. That kind of self reflexive storytelling was revolutionary...

...back in 1985. Since then, it seems it's been done to DEATH. I can't tell you how many times I've heard something to the extent of "What do you think this is? A comic book?" Yes, as a matter of fact it is a comic book, and the irony of the situation is no longer appreciated after reading the same trope for the 5,634th time. I really wish I could produce a bunch of on-hand examples of this to make this expose a little more convincing, but alas, this happens about as frequently nowadays as a character changing in and out of a costume - it's so utterly common it's completely forgettable.

However, it did happen again in this month's issue of KICK ASS.


I realize the whole book is meant to be self-reflexive, as it's a twisted take on the idea of a superhero existing in the real world, but do we really need another one of these look-at-the-camera-and-wink moments? This seems like a nitpicky criticism, but frankly, I just expect more from Mark Millar, especially when all the other comic book cliche meets real world collisions were so funny and different than the ones I've already seen. And hell, this book only seems to come out twice a year now. With this kind of time inbetween issues, can you blame me for expecting a top notch book?

Backwash: Jar of Fools by Jason Lutes

I've talked previously about the distinction between "mainstream" and "serious" comics, with the former often dealing with elements of genre and a sense of fantasticism, whereas the latter often deals with issues taking place in reality, rarely if ever imparting any powers or physical anomalies into the fiction (if it even is fiction). Mainstream comics tend to be published by big publishers, serious comics by small, independent ones.

While a lot of seriously great work has come out of the serious/indie camp, if there's one thing I'mm disappointed in, it's the severe lack of variety among the stories they publish. While everybody and their pets (myself included) are complaining about the dominance of the superhero in mainstream comics, few people seem to realize that the independent comics scene is largely dominated by memoirs, autobiography, and slice-of-life stories.

I don't mean to suggest that these books are bad by any means. I love me some Tomine and some Thompson. Blankets is one of my all time favorite comics, Box Office Poison boasts some of the most realistic character development I've ever seen, and Maus is a book that deserves close to every rave review it gets.

What I mean to say is that while the content and the conceit of these books is intending to be comparable to the Fiction and Literature section of your local bookstore, the breadth and variety of these books is lacking. Would it really hurt to give us some stories in the realistic vein that aren't just about guys working in convenience stores or going through breakups? As much as I enjoy some of these books, when I'm reading them, I usually can't help but feel that these writers are just documenting themselves and the people around the. Isn't that kind of easy?

Ed Brubaker once said in an interview that discovering Harvey Pekar was like discovering punk rock. Just as the gritty 3 chord rock of the Sex Pistols, The Ramones, and The Damned set a stark contrast to the emerging glitter and sensationalism of rock music in the 70's, Pekar's focus on everyday issues ranging from domestic disputes to returning overdue videotapes was revolutionary in a time when the field of comics wasn't just dominated by genre, it was perceived as a genre. And just as punk rock was a call to arms for many short haired folks with musical ambition and a lack of technical proficiency, Pekar's comics carried a similar message: You don't have to construct big universes and have flashy art. You can just write about yourself.

Fast forward 30 years and Pekar's model has become the norm in independent comics, with some cartoonists like Joe Matt and Adrian Tomine arguably doing better work than Pekar himself ever did.

However, to say that the breadth of realistic fiction is writing about the jobs you worked in college, the messy breakup you had last year, or realizing you forgot your change while on the way to the laundromat is just as silly and narrow-minded as thinking a comic book has to contain guys in tights shooting lasers out of their orifices. We now have plenty of guys in the medium that have mastered the slice-of-life concept, but where are the Mark Twains, the John Steinbecks, or even the John Updikes of comic book fiction? Where are the writers that painstakingly research and write about people they have next to nothing in common with?

Enter Jason Lutes, who seemed to have known about the very thing I'm talking about long before I ever had the idea and long before I had even heard of him. As early as in 1996, Jason Lutes had published his first graphic novel, Jar of Fools, a story about a cast of characters as broad as a young alcoholic, an old retired magician hiding from a kind of mandatory living sentence at an old folks home, a frustrated barista, and a father-daughter team of grifters living on the streets. Now, I don't know much about Jason Lutes's life, but I'm willing to bet that his years of being a cartoonist and an art director don't overlap much with the characters in this story. Score one for research.

It's not the best graphic novel ever done and it's not even the best graphic novel Jason Lutes has ever done (though personally I suspect Berlin might qualify on both counts after its completion). However, what it is is a very compelling story about human hurt, longing, compassion, and friendship, as we see the various characters' plotlines intertwine. Despite how little I have in common with just about any of these characters, their charisma and quirks really shine through their interactions.

Watch out for this guy. As soon as he starts putting out comics on a more regular basis (Christ, issues of Berlin seem to come out only once a year), there's a chance that he just might author the Great American Graphic Novel. That is, assuming James Sturm hasn't done it already.

Backwash: The Books of Doom by Ed Brubaker

I really wanted to like this book. Seriously.

I tend to think Doctor Doom is an underrated character, so I figured that a book about his life history would be really enjoyable. I also generally like Ed Brubaker's stuff, and I figured that if it's written by a two-time Eisner winner for Best Writer, it must be pretty good.

And I wouldn't say it's bad necessarily. While I was reading it, I was actually actively confused as to why I was disliking the reading experience. Ed Brubaker's prose filled narration effectively nails Doctor Doom's arrogance and struggle for superiority over his fellow man while subtley hinting at the pain and anguish underneath that caused him to armor and mask himself against the world. It's a full three issues or so before he dons the mask, so we get to see a lot of young Victor Von Doom as he undergoes childhood and adolesence, dabbling in the dark arts here and there before finally studying science in America alongside Reed Richards.

But while I was reading it, I just didn't really feel that oomph that's needed to engage me in the story. That's right, oomph. It's a real world - look it up.

If I had to guess why the book didn't resonate with me, I would say that it's because I just couldn't relate to the character. Doom's conviction that nobody is nearly smart and talented as he is just comes off as obnoxious when I'm seeing it every page. The little bit of humanity that we get to see is his isolation, his feeling of loneliness and struggle for independence in the wake of his parents' deaths.

However, we saw so little of his parents that it was really difficult to feel the same kind of heartbreak that Victor was experiencing. We only saw Victor's mother for literally 4 pages before her death. Having spent such little time with her, I can't understand why Victor would spend so much of his life being haunted by her memory.

One could reasonably argue that there were so many events in the story that it was difficult to fit everything in. But personally, I would way rather see a little less of Doom tinkering with his inventions, leading militia groups, and just generally being a dick to people if I could just get a little bit deeper of a glimpse at the one thing in his life that made him feel like a human being.

I think if you look at most stories about villains in other genres and media, what you usually see is an emphasis on the little empathy that these characters possess. Both The Sopranos and The Godfather are just as much about the closeness of family relationships as they are about ruthlessly killing people. Humanity is what we want to see in our characters, good or bad. With that being said, I'm personally inclined to think that a villain book can't work if it's just about a supervillain cackling and asserting his genius (unless it's a comedy, in which case it can often be hilarious). We need to see their pain or a little bit of the care they have for the loved ones in their lives.

Brubaker should probably stick to writing bad guys in CRIMINAL. In the meantime, I'm hoping there's somebody out there that can take the concept of a supervillain book and do it right.