Wednesday Comics #3

I'm sorry that I am posting this so late. Who exactly am I apologizing to, and why? I'm pretty sure no one. Some have already been arguing that Wednesday Comics is already not living up to the massive hype it has set itself up for...which was massive indeed, almost suspiciously as if it was inevitable that people would make that claim even after three issues. I, for one, am more impressed than ever with issue 3. At least half of the comics are engrossing entertainments, and there aren't any that are absurdly bad. And I find myself more and more looking forward to Wednesday so I can get my fix. Get ready for some very similar numbers this week, though, as I believe the winner is once again:

1. "Deadman" by Dave Bullock and Vinton Heuck. Sadly, virtually no love and attention has been afforded to this comic, which stands above the rest even though it doesn't have any high-profilers in the title or the byline. I'm speaking seriously as someone who never considered himself a huge Deadman "fan" (I'm sure they exist, though): this comic is obviously the work of creators in love with what they are doing, and focused on the goal of making the story visually accessible for those who happen to come in the middle and engrossing for those who happen to follow it. And this time, the ending hook is even better than last week Boston Brand, flying through indeterminate Ditkospace after attempting to save a woman from being murdered, finds himself in hell, maybe, or at least surrounded by fire, and discovers that...he's alive, and somebody named Kalak holding an axe is going to make sure that isn't the case for long. More than any other strip, Deadman is the kind of stuff I can imagine putting up on my wall to admire. The almost aggressively minimalist style echoes both Kirby and Ditko, and Bullock manages to have Boston visually occupy multiple panels in a way that seems more in keeping with the book's style than, say, "Metamorpho." I can't wait to see human Boston versus Kalak, and I hope in time people start giving this strip a bit more of their attention.

2. "Strange Adventures" by Paul Pope. I swear I never get tired at looking at Pope's Mandrillus Sphynx Monkeys, who have yet to make much sense as successful offworld conquerors but are nevertheless oddly engrossing villains. Pope's style--lumpy, amazingly high cheekbones, slick geometric environments--make him more oddly suited for this kind of strip than I would have imagined. Adam Strange continues to look rugged and act heroic, and this time we get to see some of Strange's brain power at work. Pope's visual evocation of zeta beam waves fits the look of the strip whil remaining archly detached from what else we have seen thus far, and there's quite a mystery at the end: if Strange can't control these zeta beams, yet he can find them if they are around, where has he been sent to? And what about Alanna, who has remarkably not been sexualized to the extent one would think she would be? I have no reason to think this strip won't continue to be consistently profound and entertaining.

3. "Hawkman" by Kyle Baker. Of the two strips here where a crucial reveal has human characters turning into alien bug monsters, Hawkman is by far the better. Baker's washed-out and action-centric style works wonders on a book starring a character known far better for his particular look than for any other characteristic. The Hawkman here is something new, I think, in that he has birds help him on his missions (I could be wrong about that), but I would imagine this is going more toward Hawkman the space cop than Hawkman the Egyptian, and I always like the latter more anyway. Baker gets points for the second coolest-looking alien in Wednesday Comics, the hideous Makkorthian (that, readers, is why these were white terrorists, I guess). I don't really know how well their "staged terrorist attack" would really work in provoking the world to war, but that's not what this is about. This is about Hawkman fighting hideous aliens with a sword in one hand and a mace in the other. I can't help but feel sorry for the people on this plane, though. Pretty much everyone says this strip is one of the big successes, and I agree.

4. "Wonder Woman" by Ben Caldwell. I think this is the best Wonder Woman strip yet, and Caldwell should be winning some sort of award for cramming as much as he does in a way that still keeps the book's forward momentum going. Yes, I know I said last time that I already predicted I would get tired of Wonder Woman waking up at the end of every panel and realizing it was a dream, but you know what? This is the closest thing we have to a true, episodic comic, and I am shocked by the amount of people who say it is somehow unreadable because too much is going on. I appreciate this retake on Wonder Woman all that much more because it does seem to be trying something new. Additionally, I know people have been complaining that the art isn't very vivid, and the colors are kind of washed together, but I sort of like that approach in the middle of this collection, and furthermore Caldwell's style--sort of off-Disney but utilizing weirder angles that seem to be hiding key plot points, like David Lynch--seems to be completely his own considering the other stuff people are going for in their respective comics.

5. "Flash Comics" by Karl Kerschl and Brenden Fletcher. The schizophrenic vibe of this book is not as novel as it once was, but this is still great stuff, the connections between the two strips within playing off their respective genre-types in interesting ways while keeping the continuity. I already talked last week about how that old standby time travel is perhaps too obvious of a Flash plot device to use when considering a retro Flash comic, so I'm glad Kershl and Fletcher found other ways to keep it interesting. Is that Wally West's kid at the end? What kind of name is "ether-wiki"? And maybe no one realizes how horrible of a death being thrown off a tower by Gorilla Grodd would be. Why is Barry Allen so callously fucking with the timestream now? Hopefully he will learn his lesson. If I were to judge this book based on writing as opposed to aesthetic success, it would be #1.

6. "Superman" by John Arcudi and Lee Bermejo. I actually liked this strip better than Azzarello's this week, not necessarily because it was breaking any new ground. Still, Superman's relationship with his foster parents has always struck me as one of the most real and affecting aspects of his character, and Bermejo distills the sort of relationship the three of them have: Ma doting, Pa affable and supportive, and Clark comortable and at rest-in three brilliantly-cast panels. Of course, this doesn't necessarily follow why Superman is being such a sad-sack right now (nor does it really excuse why he's going around looking through buildings to see what Lois Lane is up to), but still, give Superman a break. I believe that Arcudi is capable of constructing an engrossing Superman narrative that consisted of 12 pages of him hanging around with his family. In fact, I think it should be done.

7. "Batman" by Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso. People forget that Azzarello once wrote Superman, and it was at about the same level as this. Again, Batman is merely a side-character for this episode, hanging outside a window like Spider-Man and listening to the sort of domestic dispute that could have been an outtake from 100 Bullets. Azzarello is clearly indulging his fascination with writing femme fatales as Risso indulges his unbelievable ability to make supposedly beautiful women look distinctive from one another. Additionally, the dialogue between this woman and her nerd son-in-law (I think) is sufficiently complex. I would really like it if it turned out that Luna was a nice enough girl with no evil designs on anybody, but that seems unlikely. This book is consistent, but maybe I'm just suffering from Batman fatigue (like I would imagine half of the western world).

8. "Sgt. Rock and Easy Co." by Adam Kubert and Joe Kubert. This book is as high as it is 90% for its art, as the story is pretty much wafer-thin and I'm pretty sure I can see what's coming. But still. Joe Kubert can really draw Sgt. Rock getting beaten with a nightstick, and he frames those panels very well with Easy Co. coming to the rescue. If I were Adam Kubert, I would set up some of this to perhaps go into further detail about the men of Easy Co., or even the mysterious picture taker. This comic is almost the anti-"Wonder Woman" in a way, with big, splashy realism as opposed to WW's experimental fantasy elements. I think the two compliment each other extremely well.

9. "Kamandi: The Last Boy On Earth!" By Dave Gibbons and Ryan Sook. Sook's artwork is great and flashy in a different way than Kirby's ever was. I'm afraid I was mistaken last time when I though Kamandi and Prince Tuftan were just going to ignore the rats that were surrounding them. Of course, Dr. Canus can't be far away, helping to carry the two to their destination by blimp. And then in the distance they spot a human female, which is odd because Kamandi is supposed to be the last of his kind. My biggest problem with this is that its paint-by-numbers with Kamandi, which I realize by saying this I am not being consistent, as at least half of these strips are meant to be derivative of silver-age concepts of superheroes. Still, it looks like this strip is picking up speed, and Gibbons can certainly write well, even if he never rises above a pleasantly generic level of dialogue. At least in that respect it is Kirby-esque. I like "Kamandi," but will it dare to do the unexpected? I doubt it.

10. "Metal Men" by Dan Didio, Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez and Kevin Nowlan. The best part of this strip is the title, but the rest is good too. I am pleased by the lack of metal-related puns elsewhere, and its funny how Doc Magnus' unruly crew continues to get them into more and more serious trouble even as their antics get more whacky. If I were Didio and wanted to show I had serious balls, I would have the bank robber shoot the kid at the beginning of the next issue and devote the rest of the strip to exploring Magnus' guilt at having made such thoroughly irresponsible robots. This book also has sort of an old-school X-Men vibe, with an irascible non-powered professor dictating his superpowered and vaguely naive students. This is another strip that is getting no love, probably I would imagine due to a predisposition against anything Didio, which is unfair. The art is great, even if this strip has a way to go before I would elevate it to anything beyond "pleasant."

11. "Metamorpho, the Element Man" by Neil Gaiman and Mike Allred. Let this be a lesson to you, Neil Gaiman: you are obviously slumming it at this point. Could Gaiman have taken more than, say, thirty minutes to write the dialogue for this piece? The message from the Metamorpho fans of America is infintely less clever than last time, and this book seems to be treading on the "Metal Men" comic in terms of metal jokes anyway. Allred's art looks great, of course, but this book is going to have to pick up some massive speed because it doesn't sound at all like Gaiman is really engaged with this material. Maybe the eventual appearance of Urania Blackwell will help things along: I would really suggest going the Caldwell route and stop with the splash pages, which make for good pinups but give very little reason to reread this piece.

12. "Green Lantern" by Kurt Busiek and Joe Quinones. And here is the award for second-best bug alien transformation of the week. Hal Jordan looks odd at the beginning of this, almost semitic, and Carol Ferris continues to be the very definition of a one-note character (at least Iris West doesn't keep repeating the same shit over and over again). This strip continues its streak on being pretty much light on everything. It looks fine, but retro-oriented art of this type is done better elsewhere. Hal Jordan's green tie is a nice touch, though. Am I intrigued about the fate of Joe Dillon? Maybe. I'd like to know if he's going to die, perhaps. Still, I wouldn't care if the rest of the bar was bombed and Hal Jordan went to go do something else in space, where at least people look more interesting.

13. "Supergirl" by Jimmy Palmiotti and Amanda Conner. I wish I wasn't giving such consistently low marks to this comic, which is essentially harmless and should be charming for anyone with a soul. Unfortunately, I have none, and "Supergirl" has yet to engage me. What kind of airplane is going to have a big cartoon decal of anything, by the way, particularly one that can be seen from the ground (I forget, Streaky has super cat vision). Also, Krypto committed a federal crime and Supergirl should lock him in jail. The art on this book is beginning to grow on me, and I imagine in time I will be giving this strip a better review once my cold heart finally melts.

14. "The Demon & Catwoman" by Walter Simonson and Brian Stelfreeze. I have next to nothing to say about this comic. I don't even think it fails as a strip, necessarily: it just seems more typical of a regular linear than I am accustomed to, which really shouldn't be as off-putting as it is. I was also really disappointed that Etrigan has already shown up, which means no more regular Jason Blood, who is an interesting character in himself. I haven't been paying attention very well, maybe: is there a reason Catwoman wears goggles and ear plugs? Also, the last line is terrible. That aside, I can't muster that much to say n its defense. Even the device of having a collar that constricts when Catwoman attacks is sadly underused.

15. "Teen Titans" by Eddie Berganza and Sean Galloway. Maybe it's just a bad idea to do team books in Wednesday Comics. For the third week in a row, I can't tell what's going on, and this time there is a confusing new character who looks so generic I was wondering if he was supposed to be Trident in disguise, but then Trident pops up again, but...where are they? What sort of art style is this trying to evoke? Are we supposed to be afraid when, on the last panel, it doesn't even look like Trident's blast is having any effect? This is just a lost cause, art-wise, with this sense that something dynamic might be happening, but it never does.

Wednesday Comics #2

Andy Diggle says, "Wednesday Comics is a gorgeous design object...but in terms of actual story content, it's anorexically thin." It would be all to easy to argue with Mr. Diggle on the grounds that one can't expect that much out of one issue, but that would be to easy. There are lots of people who continue picking up their favorite comics primarily for story reasons, for intriguing setups and novel plot twists, for strong characterization, for humor. There's no reason to think that the talented stable of writers here couldn't, with all their firepower, figure a way to do that with the limited space they have. In fact, one would think some of the writers tending toward long-windedness would be able to utilize this to their advantage. I was just reading Barth's Lost in the Funhouse, and in his introduction he talks about how he was able to curb his capacity for lengthy 800-page beasts by forcing himself to take upon the "premodern tale" as his guiding point: "The clown comes to want to play Hamlet, and vice versa; the long-distance runner itches to sprint." I think this issue more than the last one showed that these writers are at least gearing up to make the best of this forum. Or at least the good ones are. In any case, I rank them:

1. "Deadman" by Dave Bullock and Vinton Heuck. A cursory look around the internet shows that seemingly no one is giving this strip much love, which I assume has something to do with the fact that this is one of DC's extreme niche characters, and a marquee creative team is not involved. This is disappointing, because so far Deadman's comic has really stood out for being intriguing in different ways, both in its contained form and even moreso as it unfolds. Bullock and Heuck both come from animation, having done among other things the New Frontier movie, which was possibly the only nostalgia-baiting comic of its kind that I could stomach (the lack of Alex Ross helped). The art style is in this animation mold, and its dynamic and Kirby-esque in the best sense, with clusters of close-up panel layouts at the beginning offset by Deadman suddenly in a big green orb, with a green disembodied head of a woman warning him that he is doing too much tampering of living affairs. I get sort of a horror movie vibe here, with Boston Brand stuck in a conundrum to the effect that he has to stop a crazed super-powered serial killer from terrorizing women, but by doing so he is affecting the balance of...something. What's wonderful is that Boston Brand does the right thing, and disappears--maybe he's dead for good, but I'd doubt it. Seriously, if you just go over this comic again, look at how beautiful and minimal this is, and observe how much you want to know what happens next.

2. "Hawkman" by Kyle Baker. This one is definitely goofy, I know, and I'm sure how much mileage Baker can get out of "Hawkman vs. terrorists" (maybe a lot), but I like its gung ho fashion, its unabashededly sentimental bird-human solidarity element, the huge glasses of the kid putting on his seatbelt, and the art, particularly with Hawkman posing for the kid, thumbs up. One might be surprised by Hawkman's brutal tactics (he takes out a bunch of terrorists by having birds fly through the windows and throw them to their death), and similarly one might question his wisdom in busting through even as he seems so sure that everyone is buckled in save for the terrorists, but hey, these are terrorists, and sometimes people must be murdered. Damn this is beautiful looking, almost photorealistic at times. I applaud Baker for showing us that if there's one thing that humans and animals can agree on, it's that terrorists must be stopped.

3. "Strange Adventures" by Paul Pope. Although it doesn't have a single panel as geometrically flooring as the one I mentioned last time, Pope's comic still comes out far ahead in terms of art and plotting, and the strip's grimy look brings to mind the actual grittiness of old-school serials (as opposed to the sort of faux-retro vibe of Green Lantern). Pope's Mandrillus Sphynx Monkey's are beauties of design, and up close one can see that Pope puts an alarming amount of work into making them seem like vile creatures: massive underbite, red babboon schnozz, a veritable army of piercings, and Lord Korgo is surrounded by a bunch of skulls that seem to at least resemble human skulls. Pope's irregular lettering continues to kill me (why don't more comics play with lettering format a bit more?) and his Adam Strange is muted, yet heroic. Not much to say about this comic other than that. Refreshingly, Pope refrains from cheesecake shots of Alanna in bondage; I look forward to Adam Strange fucking with monkeys in space.

4. "Flash Comics" by Karl Kerschl and Brendan Fletcher. Hey look, it's the same top 4 as last time. I wonder if this will be a theme. Kerschl and Fletcher continue the Iris West/Flash twofer, utilizing a retro, Benday dot-oriented technique for the Iris comic and more conventional full-color work for the Flash. This time, Iris West is first, and I can already tell where the team seems to be going with this: by having these two comics constantly refer to each other and even directly follow one another, a lot of interesting effects regarding time travel, that old Flash standby, can be utilized in new and unexpected fashions. I have to admit, I didn't see this coming when I read the first issue. In the regular comics, time travel with the Flash can get to be sort of a boring plot point and kind of a headache, but this seems to have a framing device that suggests something new can be done with this hoary, hoary plot point. Just as I think this is probably the millionth time that Barry Allen has met himself from the future, probably. Oh well, it's the Flash, and it encapsulates plenty of old-school Flash comics well.

5. "Batman" by Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso. No Batman per se in this comic, only Bruce Wayne, attending the funeral of the poor Franklin Glass, who was killed last issue off-panel we presume because Gordon was stupid enough to call Batman at the last second. Intrigue of the film noir kind follows, which one kind of expects from this creative team, so of course the biggest trope of all, that of the femme fatale is introduced. If you can't already tell she's bad news, you are very stupid, and let's hope the world's greatest detective isn't as stupid as well, even as he saves her life from a shadowy gunman and she kisses him in gratitude. There's an odd sense of space here, and one can't really tell when or how Bruce Wayne gets to this woman in time, and what exactly happens to the nerd in front of her, but maybe all this will be explained later.

6. "Superman" by John Arcudi and Lee Bermejo. I wasn't aware this was allowed, but Batman shows up in this issue of "Superman," in full costume unlike his own eponymous strip. I like this strip a bit more than the last one because it allows, finally, for a tolerable interaction between Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent. The whole Batman and Superman matchup has been done so much to death that there is hardly any distinguishing feature of their relationship, at times, they seem like the greatest of friends, even though one would think Superman would get tired of Batman's prickish behavior. So it happens here. Finally, someone has the gall to say to Batman what should have been said long before: "What you Earth made me think I could talk to you about this?" Indeed. Batman is certainly not a useful person to talk to in many situations, and particularly the way he is portrayed here, it makes sense that Superman would fly off rather than try to talk this through. Is Arcudi's Batman off-character? I don't know. He seems a tad vindictive but sometimes Batman just seems to have "those days." Bermejo has a habit of drawing like everyone looks like a marble statue, and this is especially true here with two paragons of superhero manliness having a little chat. I'm just happy that Arcudi is able to insert Batman into a comic where he is emphatically not useful. If only someone would do that with Wolverine...

7. "Metamorpho, the Element Man" by Neil Gaiman and Mike Allred. Nope, still doesn't sound very much like Gaiman, and this time nothing really happens, other than Rex, Java and Simon Stagg walk around a bizarre-looking island. Maybe more will happen next issue. Of more interest is the bottom, some sort of meta strip-within-a-strip where a bunch of kids talk about "the most popular comic book in America" and how Rex Mason comes from a long line of other such element men, including "superhot, superbabe, superspy Urania Blackwell." Will this explain how she got to Gaiman's Sandman? I predict yes, and I predict that this comic will take even more meta turns as it goes forward. Not much to say about it other than that. Allred's page, though it consists of few images, is beautiful, almost typically retro at this point, but in Allred's case at least it looks so square that it looks like something creepy is going on underneath, like David Lynch.

8. "Wonder Woman" by Ben Caldwell. I have a feeling this comic might get tedious if each one ends with Diana waking up and realizing it's a dream, but I have to give Caldwell amazing props nevertheless for telling as much story as he does: the sheer amount of dialogue and content is enough for four or five "Metamorphos" at least. And the story isn't bad either, nor is the non-superhero vibe. Yes, it is sometimes hard to read, and inscrutable, but there are beautiful effects here, such as the bar-sized horizontal panels that only a project like Wednesday Comics would allow. I'm intrigued about where this comic may be going, but it better be going somewhere different sometime soon.

9. "Sgt. Rock and Easy Co." by Adam Kubert and Joe Kubert. Again, this might read better in collected form, but at least the art is something to pore over. I could just watch Joe Kubert watch an increasingly mangled Sgt. Rock for 12 issues, probably. Is anythinig else going on here? Nazi interrogations, it turns out, were brutal. We get to the point where we have an idea that the rest of Sgt. Rock's crew is out there, somewhere, and will probably save his hide in the next few issues, after the requisite flashback is over. I love the camera motif, because only a really sadistic Nazi would like taking pictures of this. I would like it if Adam Kubert would beef up the content a bit, and it seems that there is no way he is going to be setting up anything that will break new ground, but when was the last time Sgt. Rock did that, really?

10. "Kamandi, the Last Boy on Earth!" by Dave Gibbons and Ryan Sook. Sook is great. Gibbons needs to step up his game. There's a difference between paying homage to Kirby and offering absolutely nothing new, not even a smattering of a plot point, that differentiates this from anything Kamandi-related in the past. The war between tiger people and apes is still a constant. Rats have evolved and are running around scavenging live people now (because they have guns) and they attack Kamandi and his friend Prince Tuftan. A gun battle ensues, but Kamandi and Tuftan are curiously concerned about how they are going to escape to rescue Tuftan's father without a horse when they still have to fend off the murderous advances of more rats that they have forgotten to kill. I can almost picture what's going to happen now: a brutal but oddly protracted adventure through rat and ape territory, with Prince Tuftan being told along the way that he shouldn't consort with Kamandi. Whatever.

11. "Metal Men" by Dan Didio, Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez and Kevin Nowlan. About as good as last issue, I thought. The Metal Men's puns are lame, but par for the course in a book like this. Similarly, the art is pretty square, eschewing most of the artistic breakthroughs and flourishes elsewhere, which at this point is actually kind of a plus for me. "Metal Men" is refreshingly offbeat and endearing in its own way, with a light-hearted vibe that is entirely its own. It's probably the closest thing to a humor piece present, and for this if nothing else, it should be treasured, and supported. I look forward to the Metal Men utilizing their elemental powers in more creative ways in the future.

12. "The Demon and Catwoman" by Walter Simonson and Brian Stelfreeze. Seriously, I can't believe Simonson has already blown the money shot on Etrigan. I thought at this point it was better to utilize Etrigan sparingly, to make for Jason Blood a more intriguing character: at least I prefer him that way. And Etrigan not speaking in rhyme is very, very disappointing. Maybe this is a transition issue but I fail to see both where Catwoman is and what she is doing, nor can I tell if Etrigan is particularly mad at Seliina or someone else. Why is Etrigan howling like a wolf? I will give this a second chance if Jason Blood comes back, which I guess given the title is unlikely.

13. "Teen Titans" by Eddie Berganza and Sean Galloway. A slight improvement, not so heavy on te exposition, further augmented by Robin calling Nightwing "Dick." I don't like this sort of legacy fetishism, never did. Apparently, the Martian lady's name is Ms. Martian (ugh), and who would have thought that she would have survived being stabbed? Certainly anyone with half a brain. I have a feeling the art may grow on me as this continues. Still, the visual storytelling is convoluted and lacks a real anchor, and I can't tell at the end who is underwater and how that is. And what happened to Ms. Martian?

14. "Supergirl" by Jimmy Palmiotti and Amanda Conner. I don't see why, just because this is a comic about Supergirl, the content has to be absolute fluff. An intriguing development happens at the end of the comic, where it appears Krypto may have been seduced into a life of crime, so I hope that plot will have us seeing Krypto doing depraved and sordid things we would never imagine him doing. I don't see why it couldn't be a comic where Krypto and Streaky tear a murderous swath through Metropolis, viciously mauling and eating ordinary human children who get in their way. Sound brutal for a Supergirl comic? Why? I would have rather they tried a kid-oriented approach on, say, "The Demon and Catwoman" than here, but I understand most people probably wouldn't agree with me. Amanda Conner is a really good artist, by the way, but she basically sticks to the book, which in a regular comic would be more than serviceable, but not here.

15. "Green Lantern" by Kurt Busiek and Joe Quinones. And here is how you don't do nostalgia. Deliberately mentioning America's "Atom secrets" seems lame enough, as is Jordan's statement that aliens stealing AMERICAN secrets need a little more POP, as if the art deco surroundings weren't garish already. Perhaps I am just still steamed after last week's issue, which featured Hal Jordan's ferociously lame supporting cast, but in a way this is worse, because it is treading on such obvious territory that I can't see Busiek infusing this with the charm he seems to normally have in great quantities. Busiek is great, he just needs to pace better.

Intro/Wednesday Comics #1

Hi. This is kind of an experiment/challenge to see if I can write some sort of semi-regular feature on a weekly basis. Wednesday Comics is a weekly, limited 12-issue series published by DC Comics, which you may have heard of due to the not undeserved amount of positive hype and press it received, particularly in how it shows that DC, one of the biggest comic publishers out there and probably, of the "big two," the most conservative in terms of orientation and approach (being that the continued success of DC Comics largely banks on a half-dozen characters created prior or during World War II, a good dozen during the late 50s/early 60s, and a handful of other concepts since, and their readership seems to prefer it that way) is not incapable of trying something new and, given the restrictions of the medium, somewhat radical. Wednesday Comics is not structured in the style of your typical, linear 20-something page comic book adventure format, printed on sheets double the length of 6 1/2" x 10 1/8" (I should add that there is nothing wrong with this, and that plenty of great writers have been able to plenty of radical stuff within this format [and there's plenty of examples of that you can find elsewhere, and if you can't, I'll be happy to give you a few pointers]). Wednesday Comics can, by contrast, be folded out to 14" x 20" and is printed on newspaper-type paper, deliberately meant to evoke the glossy linears of today but rather the Sunday comic strips of yore (let's forget that these strips still exist today and are, for the most part, embarrassing).

DC managed to pull together quite a package for this one, and it's partially why the hype is so deserved. Altogether, there are 15 different comics present, each a page long, each starring a different established DC property. Each of the 15 different creative teams, nearly all masters of their field, were given carte blanche to devise a self-contained story sans any continuity save what they wished to impose--the result is that, at the end, we should have 15 twelve-page long oversized stories filled with gorgeous art that will at the very least seem like an appealing throwback to the more self-contained days of comics' golden and silver age days. What's more, these stories are all diverse enough properties, and utilize such an odd variety of writers and artists, that it seems very unlikely that one would pick it up and find nothing one would like, or reread incessantly.

I should say that part of why I was so interested in this comic is because of the extreme pedigree that comes along with it. You have Neil Gaiman, well-known for Sandman as well as recent literary and film endeavors, working with Mike Allred, an artist known for his subversive appropriation of pop-style art in indie books like Madman. There's quite an indie presence here in general, actually. Some of my favorites include Paul Pope, who I like most for Heavy Liquid; Kyle Baker, who did Birth of A Nation with Aaron McGruder; and Brian Azzarello, who has done a lot of stuff including 100 Bullets (drawn by Eduardo Risso, who collaborates here as well). There are also a fair amount of mainstream creators here, no less renowned for their brilliant works using established superhero properties. Simply put, I was extremely curious.

What I will attempt to do in this blog is provide a running counter of how I feel about the whole project. I assume, simply from Issue 1 alone, that I will mostly be pleased. I feel it is necessary to state that it feels hard to judge the stories' intrinsic worth based on one page alone (and a crucial reason, I would imagine, why DC probably feels it is taking a huge gamble with this story). I don't make any claim to say that this is anything other than my own opinion, and that it will at any given time probably change severely as these stories progress. With that in mind, I will provide a weekly ranking, from 1 to 15, of which stories I think are most successful, story and art-wise, and which aren't. Since I'm much more of a writing guy than an art guy, this review may be disproportionately focused on content--I'm truly sorry if that angers anyone (really, should it, though?), but I am making an honest attempt to work through these obvious issues on my part. Anyway, I hope my commentary is enlightening, even if at first it will probably be pretty slight. I'm working on one damn page, each, so, you know...

1. "Strange Adventures" by Paul Pope. Even right out of the gate it is incredibly difficult to choose, but I have a feeling my decision will turn out to be more righteous than I thought, 11 weeks down the line. The art here is just staggering in its fluidity and its offbeat nature, and I can't help but pore through this page multiple times in a row, even as I write this. In fact, I would nominate the panel of the horrifyingly blue baboon-like "Mandrillus Sphynx Monkeys" raining down on our heroes' Escher-esque stair and bridgescape as the best individual panel in the whole package. Pope is obviously trying to bring the Adam Strange character back to the old-school pulp it could never quite inhabit in the shared DC universe, so that's why you get Alanna's whacky costume and facepaint as well as the aforementioned death rain of monkeys. Also, "Strange Adventures" gets further points for Pope's lettering style, deliberately eschewing the clean typeface more or less made standard in the last 70 years. I'm excited for what's going to happen, too...what, really, can even Adam Strange do, flying with his jet pack armed with his pistol to attack an entire invading army? It's just beautiful, and Adam and Alanna's conversations are touching in their brevity.

2. "Flash Comics" by Karl Kerschl and Brenden Fletcher. Kerschl and Fletcher really surprised me by playing further with the oversized format: dividing their section into two sections, the first being a solid adventure strip, "The Flash," in which Barry Allen engages in some witty repartee with Gorilla Grodd and then foils his evil bomb plot, only to remember that in his rush for justice, he has forgotten about his wife Iris. Flash forward to "Iris West," a comic deliberately meant to evoke old romance comics via the often-used-to-convey-staid-50s-values artistic canard of benday dots (kind of like pointillism, with the dots grouped so close together they looked filled in, unless you blew up the picture or looked very closely). "Iris West" deliberately follows upon the Flash's adventures by showing a furious Iris West, stood up at dinner yet again, prepared to leave Barry forever. Except she realizes (rationally) that it would be horrible to end their marriage simply by leaving a note for Barry saying she was leaving forever, but when she tries to talk to him, he has already vibrated elsewhere (the Flash can vibrate, leave it at that). I love the parallel storylines here--I hope Kerschl and Fletcher find new and interesting ways of intertwining these stories in the future.

3. "Deadman" by Dave Bullock and Vinton Heuck. One of the great things about Wednesday Comics is that it allows DC comics to make marquee names out of characters that probably couldn't carry a successful book. Take Deadman, a sort of brilliant concept, a conflicted quasi-hero who is literally dead, in the sense that he was shot and now roams around all day as a spirit that no one can see or touch. The difference between Deadman and other, uh, dead people is that Deadman can inhabit the bodies of living people and make them do his bidding (half the time in comics where Deadman appears, he has to spend a long time convincing people that yes it is Deadman, and no he isn't fucking with them, and I always thought there should be some comic where someone like Green Arrow tries to get out of monitor duty by claiming to be actually Deadman, and he has to go do something important). Anyway, what I most appreciated about this strip, despite its slight and slightly derivative nature, is the extremely helpful way it encapsulates Deadman's origin, which is hard enough to do in a regular comic book but even harder to do in a one-page spread, but Bullock and Heuck pull it off well. It also ends on an improbable high note--Deadman has found the killer already? What is he going to do for the next 11 issues? Also, beautiful art, slightly reminiscent of the Batman and Superman animated series of the 90s.

4. "Hawkman" by Kyle Baker. More absolutely mind-blowing art, particularly the middle spread, the exceptionally awesome looking Hawkman with mace in tow, being flanked by hundreds of killer looking birds. While the means behind this story is somewhat suspect (I was not aware that Hawkman had any affinity with birds, the same way that Aquaman does with fish), I like that it takes the point of view of the birds surrounding Hawkman, leaving us to guess what the hero's intention is. Even tough we assume it's probably to somehow board a plane being held hostage by murderous, unshaven, white (!) terrorists.

5. "Kamandi: The Last Boy On Earth!" by Dave Gibbons and Ryan Sook. You may remember Dave Gibbons as the artist of Watchmen, if you are the sort of extreme layman who will only pay attention to this post if I mention Watchmen, which was made into a movie, don'tcha know! Kamandi is one of Jack Kirby's coolest and most underused creations in my book (although Grant Morrison utilized both Kamandi as well as the Command D bunker in Final Crisis, to my everlasting delight), and Gibbons does well to encapsulate the feelings of the Last Boy On Earth by employing the sometimes tired trope of integrated prose rather than word or thought balloons--it works here well, especially in contrast to the majority of other comics that are not so narration-oriented. Gibbons isn't exactly pushing new territory with Kamandi yet, and it's basically a textbook example of how to set up all the obvious stuff so you can get to something meatier, but Kirby's concept alone more than makes up for it: Kamandi navigating by raft through decaying flooded New York City, with buildings half underwater, finally making it to his Command D bunker (where the last of his kind hid away from radiation poisoning after the Great Disaster). He is the Last Boy On Earth, in case you didn't know, until bam! Wait until next issue.

6. "Metamorpho, The Element Man" by Neil Gaiman and Mike Allred. Gaiman's deliberately old-school riff on the classically maladjusted DC icon doesn't really contain much of Gaiman's voice (in that there's scarcely any talk of myths, or other worlds, or Shakespeare, or Elizabethan Nick Fury), and it seems that Gaiman's Metamorpho and the world he inhabits is firmly rooted in the 60s, which were far simpler times comics-wise, they always tell me. Because of this, though, Allred's art is all too perfect at evoking Gaiman's pastoral (see previous note on benday dots) retroisms. It seems like Gaiman is setting up the story nicely, in any case, as well as the characters. Rex Mason, otherwise known as Metamorpho, the Element Man (although people still mostly call him Mason) lives with Simon Stagg, a billionaire adventurer who employs Mason on his crazy explorations. Also along for the ride is Java, Simon's man-child muscle, and Sapphire Stagg, the beautiful daughter who Rex pines for (and doesn't really do much to hide it) but can never have because of his freakish nature. If you recall the Gaiman Sandman story with Element Girl (and if you do I want to be your friend), you should know that this doesn't resemble that story in any way.

7. "Batman" by Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso. This is supposed to be the big selling point of Wednesday Comics--not only does it feature the most famous hero of all, but it is done by the team of Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso, fresh off the 100 issues of success that was 100 Bullets. Is this as successful? I'm not sure. The art is pretty great, although I'm not sure if Risso's facial expressions are meant to suggest what they do--Batman looks pretty pained in one panel when one would think that he would be stone-faced as usual, but hey, this is artistic liberty being taken and it's about time someone tried it. I have no idea why Commissioner Gordon wouldn't call Batman in a bit sooner, also. Of all the comics here, this seems like the one that would have the least difficulty transitioning into a regular linear comic, although as stated before, I reserve the right to be completely wrong about that. It's nothing we haven't read before, but Batman and Gordon's dialogue at the beginning is tops, and knowing Azzarello, it will probably be apropos by the end of Batman's short journey.

8. "Sgt. Rock and Easy Co." by Adam Kubert and Joe Kubert. It's an incredible-looking comic, with art that looks pleasingly retro in a non-intentional sense (what I mean is that Joe Kubert isn't trying to imitate a style, he is that style). All that's really present throughout the whole comic is Sgt. Rock's increasingly bloodied and broken face, as he gets punched by Nazis. The main Nazi looks suitably sinister, and what's up with the dude taking pictures? A novel storytelling technique, naturally. This one shows major promise even if it does seem slight on first reading.

9. "Superman" by John Arcudi and Lee Bermejo. This is, of course, DC's other flagship character, and of all the comics present it is the only one being published in an actual newspaper, USA Today. The issue of a comic taking up more space in a newspaper already notorious for its lack of content aside, "Superman" stands on its own due to a quasi-interesting (if done plenty elsewhere, I'm sure) cliffhanger and the art of Lee Bermejo, which is beautifully detailed and makes great use of white space. The alien that Superman is fighting seems far from threatening, and we don't really know yet why Superman is complaining about having to fight him when it seems like he started it, but Bermejo really nails Superman's expression in that last panel. Don't know much about Arcudi, but I will keep the faith for now.

10. "Metal Men" by Dan Didio, Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez and Kevin Nowlan. This might end up being Wednesday Comics' closest thing to a self-contained, punchline-centered funny that we would expect from a Sunday paper. It's also legitimately amusing, I think, but you probably won't think so if you don't know anything about the Metal Men, their different personalities, or why they are hanging out with a scientist whose only visual accessory is a tobaco pipe. Judging from the fashions, I assume this is supposed to take place during the 60s, but I can't tell really what style Didio is trying to ape or why. Still, Gold's comment is funny at the end, as are the rest of the Metal Men's costumes. I hope "Metal Men" ends up being the goto punchline-oriented comic of the bunch, if only so it will cause a renaissance of Metal Men-related comics in the future.

11. "Wonder Woman" by Ben Caldwell. Caldwell gets points for trying to cram the most material into his page, although on second reading it doesn't seem as if Wonder Woman's interaction with the birds really matter to the degree that he couldn't have spread it out a little. But that's never what Wednesday Comics is about, anyway. I appreciate Caldwell's novel technique of utilizing all available space, confining small moments and gestures to tiny panels within panels that still, for the most part, seem to follow very well. While I am sick of the whole "it was just a dream, except it obviously isn't" technique as much as anyone else is, it's worth it to see a semi-serious and semi-new iteration of the Wonder Woman character, one that seems closer to her mythic roots and eschews most of the superhero stuff since.

12. "Green Lantern" by Kurt Busiek and Joe Quinones. Like "Metal Men" and "Metamorpho," this comic is deliberately retro, perhaps an attempt by Busiek to rejigger the Gil Kane-era Lantern in a self-conscious, "remember the Cold War?" sort of way. Except Hal Jordan doesn't appear until the last panel, and he doesn't do anything particular interesting in that panel. The rest of it is devoted to Green Lantern's supporting cast, which for my money was never the most interesting support group out there--Pie is a low-rent Jimmy Olsen type sidekick that no civic-minded writer dares to use anymore, and Carol Ferris is this completely implausible character who is stunningly beautiful, runs the test pilot site where Jordan works, and occasional has superpowers but is villainous, for some reason. I never will be as big a Hal Jordan fan as some people, I guess--his self-absorption, his ease with the ladies, his conservative ideals, even the merit-based reasons by which he gains his superpowers, kind of make him the anti-Spider-Man. Forget Superman, he's the least relatable guy out there. So far, Busiek hasn't really sown the seeds of anything to look forward to.

13. "The Demon and Catwoman" by Walter Simonson and Brian Stelfreeze. I have no idea why these characters were lumped together, but there is promise here. My main issue is that Simonson is basically making Catwoman out to be a harpy for no reason, attempting to use her feminine abilities to have her way with Jason Blood, which doesn't work of course because Jason Blood is far too important for that sort of thing. Whatever. This characterization of Catwoman is too easy and needs to be stopped. Is Catwoman really supposed to be so stunning and beguiling that she basically only steals as an afterthought, in between bouts of sleeping with random men? And is Simonson making it so that Selina can talk to cats like Hawkman can now talk to birds? Also, Blood seems remarkably off his guard. Why would he even entertain a woman like this, when he would rather spend his days practicing magicks? Still, I have a feeling this will improve, as a confrontation between Catwoman and Etrigan has to happen, and I would love to see Catwoman get incinerated, or at least get her ass kicked, for her foolish and self-absorbed behavior.

14. "Supergirl" by Jimmy Palmiotti and Amanda Conner. Cutesy, with not a lot going on. I'm not sure which Supergirl this is supposed to be, but assuming that the bulk of this will involve her chasing around Streaky the Supercat and Krypto the Superdog, I'm sure this will get tedious. Some concepts were best left un-revamped forever--this is one of them. Perhaps there may be some intrigue involving why exactly Streaky and Krypto are acting like such assholes. It better be a downright interesting reason, I have to say. The art is also kind of generic, but at the very least Amanda Conner draws a respectable, non-jailbait Supergirl, which of course means we should all give her extreme props, if only for that. I just don't see this story going anywhere. Prove me wrong, please.

15. "Teen Titans" by Eddie Berganza and Sean Galloway. Berganza should have taken his cue from "Deadman" in figuring out how to incorporate an origin in such a small space. As it stands, this seems like the biggest failure of the bunch. A bad guy calling himself Trident wants to be known as the first bad guy named Trident to really matter, and muses on all the different iterations of the Teen Titans before impaling some Martian Manhunter lady (who the fuck is that, by the way?). Since I am not emotionally invested in the Martian Manhunter lady and I know that if she is anything like the actual Martian Manhunter that there's no way being impaled could kill her (right?), there's not much for me to go on. Also, the art is sort of faux-cartoony and faux-eastern in a way that made me hate the Teen Titans cartoon back in the day. Also, it's hard to tell where everything is or why this is happening. Improve yourself!

Overall, though, this is a fantastic concept. I know at this point I'm only nitpicking, and I bet many of these series will only get better in the next few weeks. I will remain a loyal customer, and will continue ranking these series as each becomes more substantial. Until next week...