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.
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