Yes, the story and plot are brilliant. The writing is, too, but still there are some bad spots. On the first page when Holguin describes NYC, he goes way too far. Three panels of description, ending with quotes from movies that embody the NYC spirit. By the time we hit quote number two, we were asleep. It was confusing, to say the least. However, to balance that out, there's some good parts. The dialogue with the customers was hilarious...it should've lasted longer. I think he was going for a surreal quality, but he fell far short of the mark.
The art is a major part of the story. Without the art, we wouldn't have such amusing scenes as Kildare clapping her hands when a mother asks her kids if they believe in fairies. Every time you read over it, you find something new that you'd missed the last time, and it gives the story new meanings and new intonations each time you read it. The art is deceptively simple. There's not too much ink or shaping, and even through shadows, you can still see designs and things. The color smooths the art, slickens it, and frankly I want this in black and white.This is a most excellent book and I urge everyone to read it, at least in the comic store. I'd write more in praise, but, since you all already have it and I've got work in the morning... Go read it again! 9 out of 10. R.I.Y.L.: Lady Pendragon (but with MUCH better art and coloring!!). Soundtrack: Anything by Loreena McKennett for Gwynnion.
"By the way, Muster Mark...um...I think your whatzit is broke." Back To ReviewsIf I could offer but one bit of advice to an oblivious soul who dared to wander into Grant Morrison and Dave McKean’s Arkham Asylum: A Serious House On Serious Earth, it would be simply to avoid combining the read with hits of acid, for this is one book that leaves the reader feeling...well, nasty.
It is a tale of madness and magic, of destiny and death. It explores the very real, mostly overlooked, vastly under appreciated lunacy which motivates our hero, Batman (more so, perhaps, than even the Joker, though he fights for his fair share of the spotlight in this particular dark, sprawling cloud of dementia, as well.) It is a tale of tragedies: Amadeus Arkham (the single most wicked name in all of fiction), Batman, Joker... More than anyone else, however, Arkham Asylum seems to belong to Two-Face. More importantly, in fact, it is Two-Face’s alter-ego, Harvey Dent, who is somehow suggested as the hero of this black tale, though he is most often a mere background entity in the few scenes in which he appears at all. It is a story, finally, of the random, the chaotic, the malleable and the playful aspects of our reality. Fittingly, then, April Fool’s Day is when it begins.
Commissioner Gordon has summoned Batman to inform him that the inmates have somehow taken over Arkham Asylum. The Joker has demanded that Batman join his fellow madmen, otherwise the hostages will be killed. At the same time, we are pulled into Arkham’s dark past, as the journal entries of young Amadeus Arkham tell us of his youth in the giant mansion, his mother’s suicide and his own eventual decision to convert the mansion into an asylum to help those who, like his mother, are (hopelessly?) insane.Batman agrees to the Joker’s demands and bursts into the asylum. The Clown Prince of Crime, at easily his most powerful and, more importantly, terrifying (indeed, he definitely oversteps even Tim Curry as Stephen King’s Pennywise the Dancing Clown from IT as the scariest damn clown I’ve ever seen), immediately plays on Batman’s possible sexual issues (and not for the last time) by grabbing his butt firmly and telling him to “loosen up, tight ass!” He then immediately mentions Robin, using the nickname “Boy Wonder” to further suggest Batman’s own potential criminal side.
The Joker invites Batman further into the asylum, and we are torn into one of the most ingenious, filthy and horrific two-page spreads ever written or designed (and while we are briefly on the subject of design, it should be noted that Dave McKean’s gorgeous layouts and illustrations for this wonderful book absolutely must have been an inspiration for David Mack when he began work on his Kabuki series, for the crazy patterns of illustrated symbols, overlapping photography and senseless scribbling are all here in this lovely book from ten years ago, and that can hardly be a coincidence): an orgy of lunatics writhing and crawling atop one another amidst a haunting swirl of symbols and clips of dialogue (“NO ROOM! NO ROOM!”, “Blood and-” “Father Dear Father I have to confess” and “DIRT EVERYWHERE! CHRIST LOOK AT IT DIRT DIRT!”, among others.)Meanwhile, Amadeus Arkham, after having spent a rough two hours with a patient of his by the name of Martin “Mad Dog” Hawkins (a soft-spoken young man who mutilates the sexual organs and faces of his victims), inquires of his journal, “How many men like him must there be? Men whose only real crime is mental illness, trapped in the penal system with no real hope of treatment.”
Batman is soon disturbed to see that innocents are shuffling about among the criminals. After reminding the Joker of the clown’s promise to set the hostages free upon his arrival, Batman is thrown into a confrontation with an Arkham psychotherapist by the name of Ruth Adams, who reveals that she and a number of other staff members insisted on staying to oversee their patients. Among them: Harvey “Two-Face” Dent. Ruth Adams claims that her staff has practically cured Two-Face of his schizophrenic issues by eliminating his two-headed coin and introducing him to a die, thereby creating three times as many options for any given action. From the die, she proudly explains, they had moved Dent on to a deck of Tarot cards, presenting him with nearly eighty choices, rather than the two, in the hopes of restoring his decision-making skills to a normal level. Batman dismisses the woman and her therapy, pointing out that Two-Face is crouched in a corner with cards spread all about his lap, his clothing soiled due to his inability to decide how to handle the need to relieve himself. Ignoring Batman’s criticism, Ruth Adams goes on to attempt to explain the Joker. My words would fail to do that passage justice, so just let it be known that Grant Morrison is a demented, psychotic, brilliant bastard, and his writing in this book is at once inspiring and chilling.If one had to determine the visual equivalent to Morrison’s prose, the search would stop at Dave McKean. In addition to the Kabuki-like feel of the overall design of the book, his Joker in particular is sickening and revolting, as opposed to the trim, posed and stylish Mr. J. we have come to expect of our Bat books. I have just got to sculpt the wicked little creep.
Speaking of Harley Quinn’s main squeeze, his next course of action (after a flashback to the days of the conversion of the Arkham home into Arkham Asylum in the early 1900’s, in which we learn that Amadeus Arkham had once inexplicably found a single Joker from a deck of playing cards laying on the stairs) is to get Batman and Ruth Adams involved in a word-association game with one another. This scene is one of the most heartbreaking of many such emotionally overwhelming moments in Arkham Asylum, for we see that, for all his strength, fury and determination, our heroic Bruce Wayne is a depressed, dangerous, broken man.Our tragic hero is granted an hour to hide before Joker and his pals come seeking him out, while Arkham himself vaguely describes finding the mutilated bodies of his beloved wife and daughter, apparent victims of the then-recently escaped Mad Dog (“Almost idly,” Arkham says of his young child, “I wonder where her head is.”) The scenes continue to top one another in both brilliance and horror, Arkham’s discovery and Batman’s initial flight being two of the most shocking and sorrowful of the bunch. These scenes serve to show us that Batman is indeed as lost as those he has stalked for so long. The photos of blood-soaked lace superimposed over various illustrations, the ranting of the cuckoo clock, Batman’s self-mutilation...it is all nearly indescribably beautiful and true.
Ten minutes after their prey flees, the inmates grow bored and give chase. Batman first runs into Clayface, who is quickly crippled and left to suffer. The Dark Knight moves on, seeming to narrowly avoid a confrontation with Scarecrow. He then stumbles upon the Mad Hatter, who elaborates on his fondness and fascination for children to a disturbing degree of detail and introspection (“...Little girls, especially. Little blond girls...”).Arkham’s journal then reveals that upon the official opening of the asylum, his first patient was Mad Dog. Arkham spent a dark six months interviewing the man, listening to intricate details of the mutilation and murder of Arkham’s own family. Amadeus then strolls through the halls at night, hearing laughter from empty cells (further evidence that the Joker was always meant to be a resident of the asylum?), and later, having eaten of a mushroom, Arkham imagines (?) that a dragon awaits him deep in the bowels of the asylum. This scene overlaps Batman’s own struggle against a giant reptile, as he and Killer Croc viciously rip at one another. Arkham’s tormented journal entries serve as an appalling narrative: “Doors open and close, applauding my flight. Keyholes bleed. A choir of sexually maimed children sings my name over and over again. ‘Arkham.’ ‘Arkham.’ ‘Arkham’.”
Bruised and bloodied, Batman finally overcomes Croc. He then finds Dr. Cavendish, another of the staff members who had insisted on staying in the asylum when the other hostages were freed. The doctor has Ruth Adams in a choke hold, a razor at her face. Batman realizes that Cavendish was responsible for the release of the inmates. The doctor insists that he had good reason. He points to a nearby table, upon which Amadeus Arkham’s journal rests. A place has been marked for Batman to read.Binding spells, madness and sadness, fate and victimization, responsibility, death... these things and others show us that perhaps the Joker is not the lone figure who has long been sought out by the asylum itself. Batman, too, is a part of it, and it a part of him. It has been his destiny since long before he was born...
Cavendish, having read the journal and concluded that it is now up to him to destroy Batman, attempts to do just that. The razor is soon knocked from his grasp, and Ruth Adams slits his throat with it, saving Batman, who dismisses her horror and shock at her own actions with an abrupt, unfeeling, “He got what he deserved.”With a large axe, Batman then tears through an asylum wall, explaining to the inmates that they are free. Joker, claiming that they have always been free, asks what should be done with Batman, who returns Harvey Dent’s confiscated coin and insists that the decision be his. Joker agrees, praising Batman’s suggestion with a giddy, “Brilliant!”
A reluctant Two-Face proposes that the clean side will set Batman free, the scratched will mean his death.The coin is flipped, and our hero is released. Joker walks him out like a caring host, wishing him luck “out there -in the asylum.”
Again, the rarely-seen Two-Face is the unsung hero of this, the darkest and most ingenious and honest of all the Batman books. Harvey Dent’s final struggle is truly inspiring, but I’ll not write of it here. Rather, I will suggest that those who have yet to experience it for themselves do so as soon as possible. And those who have already had the pleasure? I invite you to wander into Arkham Asylum at least once more. Trust me, the second time is even nastier...Overall Rating: 10 Out Of 10 (Flawless--unless one finds flaw in the revolting and the profane; as long as it is inspired, I personally enjoy it immensely. The heart and skill of this overlooked piece of magnificent horror easily surpasses that of even the most celebrated and beloved books on the Batman character.) Advisory: Put the children to bed. This is some sick crap. R.I.Y.L. Kabuki, Batman: The Killing Joke and the more relentless episodes of Batman the Animated Series. Pop Culture Parallel: There is nothing that can stand alone and compare, though a sadistic blend of images and phrases from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Psycho, the Faces of Death films and the darker side of Marilyn Manson’s edgier videos, with Black Sabbath’s “Megalomania” playing softly in the background, might do the trick.
(Unable to choose from the seemingly endless supply of powerful quotes, I simply chose the first.) “Afraid? Batman’s not afraid of anything. It’s ME. I’M afraid. I’m afraid that the Joker may be right about me. Sometimes I...question the rationality of my actions. And I’m afraid that when I walk through those asylum gates...when I walk into Arkham and the doors close behind me...it’ll be just like coming home.” Back To ReviewsIssue fifteen continues the saga of Steeljack from issue fourteen, which was of course released during the Carter administration. Steeljack, as previously mentioned, has steel flesh. This quirk was an advantage to one looking into the field of supervillainy, so soon Steeljack was being bad with the worst of them, and he inevitably found himself in prison. Now, many years later, he is a free man, though it seems that things are not much better for him on the outside than they were in prison. Lost, notorious, conspicuous and a bit institutionalized, Steeljack wanders about Astro City, wondering just how to put his life in order. Along the way, he continues his parole-violating quest to discover who is offing small-time villains in the city. He speaks with the families of many a deceased supervillain, and it is through these scenes that issue fifteen really excels into levels of beauty and drama, for we are shown just how damn forgivable and human all these villains were (something many people need to see, in a society which loves to assign villainous roles and titles to any inconvenient cog in the machine.) Most of Jack's late buddies and colleagues were simply desperate to provide for their families, and crime seemed to be the means to do so. The similarities and familiar patterns between each tragedy were magnificent and touching, luring the reader into support of Steeljack much more than the previous issue managed. Steeljack’s resolution at issue’s end leaves us eager for issue sixteen, which Curse will review from his cubicle on Moon Station 4-Z in 2007. Watch for it, kids!
In addition to the lovely story, we are given some of Brent Anderson’s best artwork to date. The man is so damn talented that I just accept his exquisite gift as a given, a known, something which needs not be mentioned at all, for fear of sounding silly and redundant (“Hey, folks, did you hear about the sky and Brent Anderson? Blue and talented, respectively.”) Also, though I admit I know very little of the task of coloring or the skills it requires, note must be made of Alex Sinclair’s work in this issue. No two buildings or shirts are the same color and the damn effects and details just scream at you on each page. This creative team has a delicious way of making even the most unlikely image seem possible and lifelike. Good stuff.The only discouraging thing about this issue, and of course many would disagree with me, was the interaction between Steeljack and Yolanda, the daughter of the late villain, Goldenglove. The fact that Yolanda failed to learn from her father’s mistakes was appropriate and believable, but her actions, dialogue and introduction all seemed too quick, corny and over-the-top to suit the subtle mood of this issue. Of course, much of the books of the very era Busiek honors with this wonderful series were written in such a fashion, but the two flavors should be kept in separate tales. If Busiek is to take his time to earn our sympathy with a wonderful character like Steeljack, then he should likewise take the same care with the supporting cast, rather than have a young woman appear in one panel and unceremoniously announce and display her abilities to fly and shoot lasers within the three following panels. Yolanda pulls the reader out of the I-am-absolutely-believing-this-is-real state, and we all know Busiek has the skills to keep us there throughout an entire story (read Marvels for an example...hell, even the animated-character-come-to-life tale of Astro City #13 was consistently touching and “believable,” and it concerned the fate of a living cartoon lion!) However, this unfortunate blemish can be overlooked, as the issue concludes with yet more stunning emotional drama, rather than corny, superhero melodrama. Issue sixteen looks to be an exciting and touching read, as well, though the teaser preview, featuring the Zorro-esque “El Hombre,” has me a bit nervous. Oh well, even when he slips into occasional corniness, Busiek is one of the best storytellers in the field. Issue fifteen, “The Long Treadmill”, will remind you why you love this series, and comics in general. Read it.
Overall Rating: 9.4 Out Of 10 (a haunting story, accompanied by the shockingly incredible art which we spoiled readers have come to expect of Brent Anderson.) R.I.Y.L. Marvels, Kingdom Come, The “human” in “superhuman.” Pop Culture Parallel- Shawshank Redemption.“...and the old feelings are still there. I just want to run. To run far and fast, and get away- but I been runnin’ all my life now- and I’m still in the same place.”
E-mail the reviewer Back To HomeThe third piece of SteelJack's slow rise from grace, entitled "The Tarnished Angel," begins with several pages full of artwork at once handsome yet lifeless, accompanied by text which serves as little more than a tedious recap of the previous two issues (of course, it should be noted that the dismissal of "lifeless" is used only in relation to Anderson's normally breathtaking work.) SteelJack, after some Astro City Pale Ale -induced, Spawn Alley-esque brooding alongside an obscure old thug by the name of Ferguson, is introduced to this issue's chief narrator, one Esteban Rodrigo Suarez Hidalgo, a fourth generation millionaire who grows bored with financial office shackles and relocates to Los Angeles (the original birthplace of his family's wealth.) There, Esteban hopes to help and inspire his people, through charity work and a good moral example. At this point, SteelJack is unceremoniously demoted to a supporting role, nothing more than a background character who only speaks up every few pages to ask the narrator a question or remind the reader of his overall importance to the story.
Esteban tells of meeting the "disarmingly frank" Maria Luisa Alvarado, a charity fund director who is introduced to the story via its first noteworthy piece of dialogue, in which Maria playfully mocks Esteban's comfortable lifestyle in relation to that of the gang members to whom he preaches. Playful or not, Esteban takes Maria's teasing to heart in typical Bruce Wayne fashion, and so, with typical, determined Bruce Wayne logic (and virtually no script transition), he becomes Honor Guard member El Hombre, "...the daring masked adventurer...honor, justice and truth...laughing rogue who feared no evil...stop at nothing to set wrongs right..." (et ceteras, et ceteras... Insert Standard, Generic Superhero Line Here, in other words.)Things eventually improve, however, as Busiek sneaks in a brief, original, touching and thrilling look at race, power and betrayal. A young political activist excites Esteban's commUNITY by appealing to their collective, mutual dissatisfaction and fury with their oppressive, white upper class neighbors. This unity drives a painful gap between the open-minded El Hombre and those he wishes to protect, as the young gang members and criminals accuse El Hombre of being a willing servant to the whims and wishes of the oppressors ("The Silver Agent tell you to keep us out of his neighborhood?")
Quick cut to further fast, shallow, poorly-developed superhero traditions, as an angry child is taken in by El Hombre to become Robin -er, Bravo. Perhaps Busiek skims through such sections because he fears it would be redundant for readers to endure an in-depth retelling of "Batman's" origin, but one could argue that A) The Confessor (among other intentionally familiar heroes in the city) managed to be both a loving tribute and an innovative and exciting new combination of spandex seasonings, and therefore the very Zorro-like El Hombre may have had potential which was simply unexplored or neglected, as well, or B) Busiek is free to do his Batman and Zorro tributes, but he should not bother if he is going to simply cop out on the character development and the emotional intrigue of the "human" in his newest superhuman. After all, the only thing potentially more dull than a shoddy "tribute" to a sixty-year-old original character is any failed attempt to tell a new story about said original character, and yet the past decade has given us some of the most stunning and original Batman stories of all time (based on a character who had already been explored by countless writers for many decades)...if an aging character can still be handled so adoringly and brilliantly, then surely a tribute to that aging character deserves to be treated with similar respect and imagination.Instead, we quickly lose the issue's first intriguing character (besides SteelJack, who is not only already established but-- in this issue, at least-- mostly ignored); after but a handful of short panels, the bratty, flirting, insightful Maria marries the same activist who inadvertently (?) turned the community against El Hombre, and with that, she is gone. Then, as if to reward us for our continued patience, we are finally given a real reason to to relate to El Hombre, to sympathize with him and hope the best for him. Faced with the devastating realization that he is an insignificant addition to the Honor Guard as well as an essentially useless, possibly offensive "hero" to his own people, he immediately becomes someone to pity, to rally behind.
But our support for El Hombre bears no effect on the wisdom of his decisions, and, like Steeljack, he proves unable to live up to his own potential. In desperation, he contacts the supervillain the Assemblyman and asks for his help, which shows that perhaps his heroics were less a labor of love than a need to be seen as a good man. This is where issue #16 is at its strongest: challenging the nature of heroism, examining the true face of Hero, which is obviously often more selfish and insecure than the mask would lead us to believe.Karma curses El Hombre with a much-deserved betrayal and a number of tragic, undeserved deaths. Finally, a last squeeze of lemon on the whole destructive tragedy: the Honor Guard comes along to clean up El Hombre's mess, and his dark, dejected, disgraced desperation becomes public knowledge after the Assemblyman is captured and tells everything he knows.
--Though it is not an important piece of the story, we must focus for a moment on yet more legible newspaper articles in the pages of Astro City (English and Spanish this time); detail like this is rare indeed, and flattering to readers--El Hombre is through, though Esteban is safe. Bravo makes another appearance, and though it is brief it proves to be one of the more striking elements of the story, which ultimately ends on a sad note, as Esteban is still a broken man after sharing his tale. There seems to have been little therapy involved in his sharing.
This initially disappointing issue proved to be an exception in a number of ways. First, for a book which usually lacks in inspirational scripting, it certainly challenged the reviewer to select one final, elegant quote from the mass of nearly perfect options. Also, though there was little to look forward to in the cover illustration of El Hombre and Bravo (El Hombre, a visual combination of Zorro and Crackerjack, did not seem to fit into SteelJack's arc) we were not subjected to a swashbuckling, smartass spandex stud beating on minions all issue, but instead treated to a haunting and human flashback which eventually fleshed out El Hombre much more deeply than early pages would have led the reader to believe. More importantly, though, El Hombre's story made one of Astro City's most fascinating and believable characters all the more powerful, as Busiek drew obvious yet satisfying connections between Esteban and SteelJack toward issue's end.Though there is little in the way of plot progression in the cleverly titled "Tarnished Angel," the reader will still be eager for #17, for though this issue's end is a mild and pleasant one, with no real action or climax, we are left with more of SteelJack's same honest, understandable fear that closed the last segment so well, and also, there is still the curious and mysterious matter of Ferguson to explore (the reader will most definitely know his role by the end of this issue, and, like the reviewer, the reader will most certainly be wrong...remember Confessions, the story everyone had figured out about a dozen times before it finally ended?)
This was yet another issue of Astro City which took a lame looking gimmick (an animated lion, a human locomotive, a Zorro ripoff) and made it exciting and powerful, and issue seventeen will concern the arrival of the unlikely character, the Mock Turtle...Somehow, I suspect we need not worry.
Overall Rating: 9.3 Out of 10 (it would have rated higher, perhaps even close to perfect, were it not for the sludge-by-numbers style of the first third or so... ultimately very glorious and lean, deep and fun... read it.) R.I.Y.L. InHUMANs, Marvels, Zorro, The heart behind the hunt. Pop Culture Parallel- Dead Kennedys- Where Do You Draw the Line? (another great look at the relation between power and corruption, good intentions and selfishness.)"Honor Guard had recently begun licensing its members' images, donating the proceeds to charity- and I don't know what wounded me more- the discovery that my t-shirts and dolls were the least popular- or the discovery that the sales of such trinkets actually mattered to me."
E-mail the reviewer Back To Home"Comic Book Confessions!" has given us some stunning insights into the comic book industry in recent months, noteworthy among them the facts that old Cursey-Poo has always derived more pleasure from Tick cartoons than Tick comics, and has yet (1999 update: still yet) to read an issue of Transmetropolitan. Now, at the risk of shattering dreams and belief systems everywhere, we bring you our most heart-wrenching gossip nugget to date:
Curse was (pause for dynamic shot of reluctant grimace)... Wrong! Yes, apparently my critical and creative antennae were crumpled on that dark day a few months back, or perhaps I was simply in a pissy mood. Either way, when you toss the old teeth into the soda glass and leave them to rot through the night, the answers all point to the same inescapable truth: Black Panther kicks ass, and Curse was a fool when he reviewed issue one a short time past and gave it a 7.7 out of 10.
Well, the first step is to admit you have a problem and I’m feeling better already and so on, so let’s get to redeeming ourselves, shall we?Never since the brilliantly silly "Great White Hype" have readers like myself had such wonderful reason to be so giddily embarrassed to be white guys, and never since... well, perhaps never have African American readers had such a cool, strong, subtle and fun comic book character to relate to (or at least wish to relate to, ‘cause let’s face it, the man may be a cultural and racial icon of sorts, but who the hell is arrogant enough to relate to Panther’s strength and presence?)
The Lord King of Wakanda and his entourage, along with the make-us-proud white dork Everett K. Ross, make for a damn fun and exciting team to follow, and unlikely enemies such as Mom, Satan and Achebe (aka Bob the Peasant Farmer) keep the story roaring along at the type of admirably lunatic pace of which only Christopher Priest seems capable.Immediately before picking up BP #1 for the second time, I had just finished the newest installment of Kevin Smith’s best comic, Daredevil. Comfortably convinced that I had just read one of the finest issues yet from the undisputed champion of current titles, I settled down into my futon and prepared myself for relative disappointment, my unimpressed dismissal of BP #1 still fresh in my mind. An hour or so later, in the middle of the third or fourth issue, I had to reevaluate my vote. Two weeks later, I have yet to make a firm stand in my own mind on which is the superior of the two uncharacteristically amazing Marvel titles, and yet it is so shocking to me that any book could so suddenly even threaten to overtake my beloved Daredevil that I feel it is inescapable that Black Panther deserves the nod. Whereas I originally felt that the first issue took the Quantum and Woody formula of confident, valid adventure-meets-jaw-achingly hilarious comedy and made it seem like an easy answer, a return to the established successful method of creating, I have since realized that Priest has only improved upon his delicious blending of two story-telling flavors that are often attempted but rarely achieved by most writers (comic book or otherwise.) Priests’s hapless white narrator, lawyer Everett Ross, delivers deadpan and chaotic summaries of the insane adventures he has been witness to/victim of since taking Black Panther/T’Challa on as his newest client, and Panther himself is often relegated to the supporting role of straight guy to the countless eccentric heroes and villains which fill the vividly painted series so comfortably and cleverly: Zuri, the loyal, rambling sidekick of T’Challa , whose strength and skill on any and all battlefields is obscured by his endless napping and ranting; Mephisto, the looming, wicked devil who throughout the series remains surprisingly tolerant and patient (if opportunistic; check out the scene from issue 2 in which Mephisto apparently acquires Everett’s soul in a manner which can only be called dishonest and manipulative, at best...though “damn funny” works, too); even, surprisingly enough, the Dora Milaje, T’Challa’s assistants/bodyguards who, though as ridiculously, shallowly sexy as any comic book heroines, are anything but typically offensive since they are immediately acknowledged and dismissed as over-the-top bimbo warriors in the same kickass manner that the android chicks from Austin Powers were so knowingly exploited and adored.
The painted illustrations of Mark Texeira (and, in issue #5, Vince Evans) are handsome and expressive, easily capable of any and all flavors Priest creates. In my first review, I dismissed the painting as “occasionally sloppy (especially toward the end),” which only confirms that I was too busy struggling to dig the carcass from my ass to give an objective commentary on anything. The illustrations do indeed grow sloppy and hazy toward issue one’s end, but only in a flashback sequence, leading Curse’s more rational personality to conclude that it was evidently an intentional effort on Tex’s part. Something else has to be said while I’m ranting in favor of non-Alex Ross painters, which is simply that, Mark Texeria’s considerable talent aside, guest artist Vince Evans is even better, at least for people like myself, who favor crisp, clean artwork in all but those cases in which smudgier or more chaotic methods lend more atmosphere to similarly distanced and delightfully inaccessible writing (a good example being the grand -yet all-around nasty-- ARKHAM ASYLUM.) I would never be disappointed to see Tex resume visual control of the series, but if Evans feels a need to stick around, I’ll certainly accept that with drool-bathed chin and eyes glazed with joy, as well.Black Panther is a refreshing hero, for, as mentioned earlier, he is one of an indescribably precious and exquisite few African comic characters who doesn’t insult readers of all races with exploitative catch-phrases and dated, racist lingo. Even his uniform is great; it’s haunting and intimidating and, most importantly, it makes sense (he wears it for ritual reasons, which is easier to consume than most “I-kick-ass-so-why-not-wear-spandex” heroes we read about.) Also, he is powerful enough to be thrilling and yet enough of a lost victim to keep us from growing bored with his life. Finally, he is in the care of one of the industry’s greatest artist’s in Christopher Priest. Priest makes bold racial jokes with his characters because he knows that we have all become so fearful and PC that any joke which even hints at racist tendencies is going to give our pathetic asses an adrenaline rush of laughter. Ultimately, he succeeds with offensive dialogue by refusing to take any race seriously (give this book to the most hardened white supremist and you will at least get a chuckle, and yet most African American fans would probably delight at the notion that Priest practically dismisses his own beloved hero as just another “noogie with a cape.”)
Were we to continue, future revelations would surely give us yet greater ratings boosts and viewer acclaim, yet we at Comic Book Confessions! feel that we have accomplished everything we originally strived to achieve, so let it be known that we are closing shop. The readers have beared witness to our final, dizzying revelation: Curse was wrong. Overall Rating: A fat, humbly apologetic 9.3 Out of 10 (As with television pilots, comics usually have as their worst installment their very first, and Black Panther was no exception, though ultimately, the entire series has been more than enjoyable thus far, #1 included.) R.I.Y.L. Tick, Quantum & Woody, Xero. PCP- Offspring’s Pretty Fly For A White Guy (and if the first pop culture parallel that comes to my mind for Black friggin’ Panther relates to the lone white dude in the story, you know I have got to broaden my cultural horizons).“The mighty Ukatana-- fetish god of the fat, the spoiled, and the self-absorbed. T’Chaka must be getting a little chafed from all the 360’s he’s turning in his grave.”
E-mail the reviewerEARTH X #0
Let's get back to the art aspect of Earth X. Alex Ross has become quite good at sequential storytelling since his first comics work, but Earth X no.0 is barely sequential but for the first 12 or so pages. Leon maintains a fluid feeling between panels, like a highlight reel from a days worth of NFL action. Also, don't think that this book is supposed to be pretty. It's not, and Leon's art captures that perfectly.
Krueger and Ross have taken the basic Marvel Universe and not really expanded it, but explained it in such a way that it explains every character in the MU. The dialogue between the Watcher and X-51 is as if a teacher is speaking to a student. The novel Ishmael comes to mind, where Ishmael, a gorilla, is telling a human about how humanity is destroying the Earth through pollution, and killing off endangered species and such. The only difference is that here, the Celestials are the reigning species and humanity is the endangered one.Don't pick up this book if you're expecting a great revelation, or even the beginning of the Earth X storyline. No. 0 is pure background, so check out the Earth X Sketchbook if you want the characters. What you will get, however, is an in depth and interesting background on how the Marvel Universe got started, and a slightly different spin on its major events, especially on the kingdom of Asgard.
A quick note-- Did anyone else notice that Earth X had no ads? When's the last time a Marvel book that was a 'normal' issue didn't have ads? Thats all right, they make up for it with a four dollar cover price.Rating- 9.0 out of 10. Pop Culture Parallel- "New Skin"; Incubus- S.C.I.E.N.C.E- "It's all been seen with the exception for what could be, when will we be new skin?" "Dead skin will atrophy itself to start again." R.I.Y.L- Kingdom Come, What If?, The Nail
"There is no good. There is no evil. There is only change. " -The Watcher Back To ReviewsHmm. It had to happen. That knowledge fails to soften the blow, however...
Alex Ross has failed, if only temporarily, to make us care for a story. I do not know that we should have expected or even wanted closure at the end of the first of a series of fourteen issues, but certainly we deserve enough power and intrigue in a story of this supposed importance that it at least makes us eager (or even curious) for the following issue. Thus far, though the basic plot premise is mildly fascinating (if not yet especially original), the actual Earth X script has read like a corny and generic entry from Kurt Busiek's reject files, adding little to the Earth X sketch book teaser featured in the pages of Wizard magazine over a year ago.The art work struggles to keep us interested, and, for the most part, it surprisingly succeeds; John Paul Leon's illustrations are edgy, at once unfocused and tight in a manner highly reminiscent of Frank Miller's better works, with additional conflict between the varying, somehow ambiguous degrees of depth (which in turn resembles the work of new WildCats artists Travis and Richard Friend.) Stylish and interesting as it is already, it seems like something that might yet increase in quality and win the reader over even more as the series progresses, though that will not be an issue if the writing does not soon improve.
Like Steve Gerber's wicked miniseries Nevada, the majority of Earth X consists of standard comic book format, framed at the beginning and end with plain text dialogue and no illustrations (which, in a book that, thus far, is only saved by its illustrations, is probably not an intelligent method of delivery.) The dialogue is shared by two faceless characters (one literally, though this is not fully explained in issue one): Uatu (the Watcher) and his protege, the android X-51 (the new Watcher), without whom Uatu claims to be blind (too bad, really, since the only thing that makes his dialogue endurable is the visual assistance!) Uatu takes X-51 on a dingy journey through the future of the Marvel Universe, where the entire population is now metahuman (that's "super human" for the benefit of my fellow comic book-illiterates.) This is where the series shows potential, in its theoretical hook: would the world still need heroes if everyone was as powerful as the saviors of old? Unfortunately, this promising facet is barely even acknowledged in issue one, much less explored. Instead, it is passively revealed that Hydra (a giant, plant version of Star Trek's the Borg, as far as unacquainted readers such as myself can tell) has consumed most of the old school heroes, who seem to be android replacements of the apparently dead originals, anyway, so no big deal. Only Captain America is his original self, though he is barely recognizable, what with his tattered American flag toga and weary, beaten brow (perhaps that description gives the wrong impression, for in fact, Cap is given majesty and weight with this design that his ridiculous regular costume has never managed to convey.) Also, the "A" on his head is now a permanent fixture in the form of what appears to be an old, creased scar (a move which seems to be nothing more than a clever slap in the face to the young man who tried to remove the "A" a couple years past, one Mr. Rob Liefeld, the comic book industry's equivalent of the black sheep sibling who, despite his repeated failures to get himself together, always manages to charm Mom and Pop into letting him move back home to do laundry and "get back on his feet.")The "dark future" aspect of Earth X makes it difficult to refrain from making comparisons between this book and Kingdom Come. Sadly, though perhaps it is unfair to set this book to such high standards, Earth X is a hollow shadow beneath KC. This series could be dropped from the old pull list and immediately forgotten, though most likely, I am not alone in my tentative decision to give the series at least one more chance (it seems that Alex Ross deserves as much, as he has never before insulted readers with a crappy piece.) Hopefully, this will eventually prove to be something special, something deserving of the hype and happiness associated with any new Alex Ross project. In the meantime, Earth X has proven to be a devastating disappointment. Overall Rating: 7.9 (a powerless script which is dragged defiantly into realms of quality art and innovation by original yet stylish art work.)
R.I.Y.L. WildCats, disappointment, art over story and style over substance. P.C.P. Any of the big-budget action films of the last year or two, which wrap empty, generic attempts at emotional drama in a pretty, easy-to-swallow package."You may speak with her voice...but you are not Jennifer. Do you hear me, you crazy Hydra queen?!?! You aren't her!"
E-mail the reviewer Back To HomeEveryone can relax... Gambit has arrived. I couldn't tell ya how long I've been hoping that this favorite character of mine would get his own series and now it's here! Not only is it here, but it's just as good as I'd hoped, with former X-men writer Fabian Nicieza returning to the X-world with the new Gambit series. Steve Skroce, formerly of X-MAN, supplies the art for the book and I hope the two stay with this book for a long time. Starting off in style, the Man of Steal (does anybody else just love that tagline like I do?) begins his solo adventure doing what he does best. He's raiding the twelfth and final temple of Garbha-Hsien's twelfth and final child, in the remote range of Wu-Tai Shan in China. Well, the major corporation (Elysian Enterprises) which just recently discovered the temple are a little upset to find the Cajun stealing the precious artifact that is hidden inside the booby-trapped temple. Much like the last Indiana Jones movie, Gambit has to figure out what the clues that he's learned mean in relation to the death traps that are hidden throughout the ancient tomb. Does he survive? Of course not, what a silly thing to ask. The Elysian Guard are sent after the Cajun, since they believe that they should have the gauntlet which was hidden within. Did I mention that American special agent, Carl Denti is a part of the Elysian Guard? Anyone know his alter-ego? You don't?!?! Well, it's the X-cutioner-- the guy who has unsuccessfully tried to apprehend Skin of Generation X and Emma Frost when she was in her coma! He would have gotten Emma too, had Cyclops and Cable not shown up to stomp a mud-hole in his @$$. Denti even aided the Punisher in one of his latest appearances. This doesn't mean that Gambit will have to throw down with the X-cutioner, does it? Hell yeah, it does! I don't want to give away anything so I'll just say that the second adventure is, by far, one of the coolest Gambit scenes I've read. I have to applaud Nicieza and Skroce's creativity. Never predictable, that's you guys!
Like I said, the guys rocked on this book. Skroce's artwork has come a long way, even from his work on X-man. All the action scenes flow smoothly and there's not one deformed body part in the whole book, which seems to be the new style for some super-hero comics. The storyline is interesting enough to keep people's interest, I think. I just hope that all the mysterious elements aren't solved right away. Sure we want to know everything about him, but like Wolverine, the mystery surrounding Gambit is part of the charm that we all love about him. When you know everything about someone, it's kinda hard for them to look mysterious. In this first issue, we find out that someone called "The New Son" is responsible for saving Gambit from the Antarctic wasteland that Rogue and the other X-Men left him in. As payback, Gambit is now stealing certain items for the New Son, but how long can this go on before he crosses paths with his teammates? The Interludes in the book, also, set up some great plot-lines that will hopefully be explored soon, but not right away. The Interlude with Remy's father, Jean-Luc LeBeau, also provides a great origin story for those who don't know everything there is to know about Gambit. There's also a great commentary by Mr. Sinister at the very back of the book that you might enjoy.
Well, here's a big surprise for you. The first issue of my SN's own monthly mag, and I'm gonna recommend it to everyone who's ever had an interest in him or Rogue or the rest of the X-Men. Even if you aren't as impressed as I was by this first issue, stick with it. There's so many subplots being started just in this issue alone, that you're bound to find something you like sooner or later. Quality- 9.2 out of 10, Pop Culture Parallel: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, R.I.Y.L.- Duh... GAMBIT! Also, the X-Men, X-Man, Deadpool, Wolverine, Cable, Catwoman, Chronos, Hitman, Elektra, Maverick
"Sorry 'bout the nose ... but since I'm already embarrassin' you big-time, s'it okay if I use you t'make my getaway?"
Back To ReviewsMy head hurts... As said above, prepare for big concepts. Tom Peyer writes HOURMAN to compare to the epic sweep of JLA, using hard science and theory as magic to stun the reader. However, as Mark Waid has demonstrated in his run on JLA, it's pretty damn hard to match up to the sheer bizarro-factor of Morrison's writing in this vein. Morrison supplies the bare minimum of detail about the science-- generally done in some kind of dramatic, non-sequitur-ish dialogue gasp from a character shortly before a major occurence-- but somehow the reader can always grasp it instantly. When Waid attempted the same in his four issues of JLA, the fluidity of Morrison just wasn't there, and it's missing here too-- when Snapper Carr suddenly displays clairvoyeurism and loses it just as suddenly, we can infer that it was caused by some kind of Hourman-related time bubble that we haven't seen yet, but there's no hook to confirm this. Not to say that HOURMAN is in any way poorly written-- even B-grade Morrison imitation can be good, and many of the concepts do slide off fluidly-- for example, Hourman relating to the League an entire conversation that hasn't happened yet (And the Leaguers reacting as if it had). Peyer definitely adds MORE than enough of his own excellent work to the series, such as...
The Supporting Cast (Or, "Baby You Can Drive My Carr") Every single character in the book is well-handled. When I first heard the news that the Obi-Wan to Hourman's Luke would be Snapper Carr (as a beatnik, no less), I groaned-- here's a chance for the writer to yank off some INCREDIBLY overblown Scooby-Doo hipster beatnik dialogue in the name of humor. But pleasantly, this is not so. Snapper does occasionally speak in jive, and it does get annoying, but it's not overdone or cloying. Peyer has also set up a great new status quo for him-- an ex-wife, a struggling writing career, and an auto repair business (Not to mention a cat named Starro). Each Leaguer also has an individual voice (Green Lantern is especially entertaining), and Hourman's encounter with Batman is perfectly handled.Visions Of The Future Rags Morales' art is extremely enjoyable. I've never been terribly impressed by his work, but something about HOURMAN just clicked with me... his character designs are imaginative, his backgrounds are never skimped on, and every panel is filled with movement. Sometimes they become too full, and the effect is cluttered, but more often then not they're just visually exciting. The inks and colors compliment the pencils perfectly, never overbearing or underwhelming.
Between VEXT and HOURMAN, DC seems to be marshalling its forces for another boom in excellent "offbeat" titles like the year-old genesis (and subsequent downfall) of CHASE, CREEPER, and CHRONOS. One can only hope they can stay around longer than those; I'm fascinated to see where HOURMAN ends up. 7.9 out of 10. R.I.Y.L.: JLA, DC One Million, Vext, '60s Justice League, Chronos, Starman, Creeper, Martian Manhunter."You're Lucas Carr. You create that noise with your hands when you're excited, so people call you Snapper." "Yeah, well, you should see my brother Spitter. They never wanted him in the League."
E-mail the reviewer Back To HomeOK, I don't like John Byrne's work. This is a prejudice I'm willing to admit right up front, since it can't help but color this review-- but I'll also say that this is the most satisfying Byrne script of recent years. Unlike the nightmares-in-melodrama of SPIDER-MAN CHAPTER ONE, the characters are talking like humans all throughout, and even the omniscient narrator isn't hammy. The new status quo Byrne has established, while not a direction I'd personally like to see the book go in, is nonetheless intriguing. Banner's blackouts are a new and uncharted transformational side-effect, and the plots are dynamic-- the way the issue is set up, the midnight rampage of the Hulk is mysterious enough to get the reader thinking if the real culprit is the Hulk at all. But while an interesting point to play off of, that same ambiguity also detracts from the story, leading the reader down a plot path that doesn't pan out.
This is Ron Garney's best work yet, and I've said that before. Garney certainly does improve every time he takes on a new book-- just flip back through your back issues of CAPTAIN AMERICA, SILVER SURFER, and SENTINEL OF LIBERTY. Very crisp, unbelievably dynamic (Check out the mid-issue Hulk rampage-- daaaaaaamn!), and technically sound, Garney has outdone himself (and the last batch of HULK artists).
But even if this issue is relatively low on flaws, I find myself wondering why it happened. The easy answer is, of course, sales. Byrne is Marvel's current relaunch-meister, and controversy or no his presence raises sales, even if it's just for a quick surge. And this is, of course, one more example of Marvel's quick-surge mentality. HULK was relaunched, and Byrne and Garney came on board, because Marvel wanted one big heroin-like shot of dollars. In the long run, the HULK book will undoubtedly be posting the same sales figures as INCREDIBLE was, with or without Peter David. Is the product produced of high quality? I wouldn't necessarily say that, though it is a damn sight better than a lot of what Marvel is producing. However, the quality wouldn't matter. This series could be about a Hulk who grows tremendous emerald breasts with his every transformation, and have miserable art and story, as long as it has a #1 on the cover-- because that's all Marvel seemed to be striving for. Let's hope Byrne and Garney surprise us with a consistently decent book, or HULK can be filed permanently in the ranks of Stupid Gimmick Book. 6.9 out of 10. R.I.Y.L.: John Byrne, Spider-Man, Pitt, Captain America, Avengers, Iron Man, Thunderbolts. SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION: For more on Chris' conceptions of Marvel's quick-fix mentality, read Why What Marvel Is Doing Sucks For The Industry, in Issue #18's Columns and Essays Section. Back To ReviewsIssue Five's "First Contact" begins with the gorgeous, refreshingly subtle style that readers have quickly grown to expect of this amazing title, as a dragon's disturbed slumber serves as a metaphor for humanity's final success at shattering the protective barrier which has separated human and Inhuman throughout history. This is an appropriate method for this particular story, since reading such a pleasant, gentle introduction (to an otherwise explosive issue) is not unlike slowly and peacefully rising from a deep sleep. The beauty of this issue, however, and the Inhumans title in general, is that the subtlety and care remains, even after the story becomes explosive.
Ridiculously ineffective lasers and tank shells shot by the Portuguese army are initially dismissed by the mysterious, reclusive Inhumans, but Karnak, whose fascinating gift is the ability to sense any weakness or fault in any structure or matter, is in fact quite concerned. Meanwhile, a U.S. government suit is confronted by a familiar looking woman (familiar to readers, that is), who asks the suit to deliver something to Attilan for her on behalf of one Colonel Stalyenko, who readers will remember as the nasty human who recently met with the villainous Maximus (prisoner --and brother-- of Black Bolt, leader of the Inhumans) and his new companion, Woz, the supposed evolutionary failure from issue two, who fate would eventually bless with powers which the Inhumans simply denied a chance to blossom. The piece to be delivered is a powerful subsonic equivalent of a monkey wrench, intended to disrupt the powerful protective barrier over the Inhumans' island home, thereby clearing the way for the Portuguese army to attack. After the arrangements are made, the woman identifies herself as Black Widow (just in time for her new Marvel Knights relaunch, conveniently enough, though for readers like myself, who know nothing of the character thus far, it is helpful to get a glimpse of her before jumping into a new title I know nothing about.)Black Bolt and a number of flyers leave Attilan to confront their human attackers in a scene which continues the narrative metaphor --the "old man" Colonel manipulates and persuades his "Boys" to renew the pride and determination with which they attack the "dragon"-- and also gives us an amazing display of Black Bolt's strength and presence, as well as the awe and intimidation inherent in the simple appearance of the Inhumans in general. They are such elegant, haunting, beautiful creatures, and yet the reader eventually begins to take them for granted, so Jenkins wisely tosses us a scene such as this on occasion, to remind us just how incredible these figures are.
The rebellious Portuguese Colonel, Edson Jarzhino, is not so easily impressed with the creatures, however, and he expresses his disdain by spitting in Black Bolt's face. Black Bolt nevertheless makes his refusal to fight clear, and leaves the army to return home, opting to communicate with the humans by other methods, namely through an Inhuman ambassador to the United Nations. To the delight and awe of the other UN ambassadors and media people everywhere, a mysterious, infant-like woman named Mendicus, encased in a milky globe, is escorted to the gathering by a pair of stunning Inhuman assistants, and there she immediately assumes a threatening, intimidating, no-nonsense stance among her human counterparts, dismisses their shared dialogue as irrelevant and wastes no time in demanding the removal of the Portuguese soldiers, by sunset no less.A hypocritical American ambassador denies the request while maintaining that America supports the Inhumans. Citing difficult protocol and hurt feelings over Inhuman isolation as the reason for America's refusal to help, the ambassador then presents Mendicus with a gift to assure that Uncle Sam is watching their back. The gift, of course, is Colonel Stalyenko's destructive Trojan horse. Karnak, along with an infuriated Gorgon, finally pinpoints the brilliant and unorthodox logic behind the persistence of the seemingly useless human attack, as our narrative metaphor draws to a sudden, terrifying close.
This issue, as well as the first four, was so dumbfoundingly incredible that I am literally rendered useless in trying to relate its lusciousness, dignity, power, insight and intelligence to anyone who has yet to experience it. I had never even heard of these characters before last Autumn's Marvel Knights relaunch, and yet now, a mere six months later, I have to place them atop my list of favorite heroes and titles. With all due respect to Kurt Busiek, the mantle seems to have been passed: this is the greatest superhero book one can buy right now. If the series continues its current quality, it may eventually become the most incredible superhero read of all time. Paul Jenkins is easily one of the most gifted writers in the literary field today; on one hand, his presentation of these majestic creatures and their unbelievable powers is so convincing that one absorbs the entire piece as easily as one's own diary entries, and yet you will never read an issue of this book and return to your waking life unchanged. Likewise, the artistic expressions of Jae Lee are so perfect that one wishes he could work on every well-written title in the industry, though of course no book is currently as deserving as Inhumans, no writer as capable of matching the quality of the artwork as Paul Jenkins. The illustrations (and all other elements of the book) are dark yet uplifting, gothic but never trendy, beautiful but never polished or harmless... These pages live. See for yourself. Overall Rating: This is the first single issue I have ever graced with a 10 Out of 10 (flawless, stunning, inspirational, mind-blowing work. Perhaps the greatest book on the shelves right now. Read it!) R.I.Y.L. Astro City, Kingdom Come (for its similar exploration of the contrasts and similarities between Human and Super/Inhuman) and any piece of art which proves to be a victory of substance over style, yet maintains a classic style of its own. PCP- Clive Barker's Cabal, and the film version, Night Breed."While we appreciate the support of your...United States of America, it is nonetheless conditional, as seems to be the case with every human good intention."
E-mail the reviewer Back To HomeEditor's note-- in an effort to demonstrate just how cool and alternative Grant Morrison is (jus' kidding), INVISIBLES vol. 3 is a 12-issue maxiseries counting backwards from #12 to #1, which will be published in the first month of the new millennium. Freaky, eh?
More holographic fun from the man who brought you the severed head of John The Baptist and a crash-landed God in his first two volumes of the series he was born to write. The Invisibles are covert, occult, counter-culture subversives, fighting a war against the Outer Church, which is the dystopian and oppresive aspect of our holographic universe (Imagine two concentric circles, overlapping just slightly. Our universe is the result of those two circles overlapping; those two circles are the Outer and Inner Churches). The Outer Church has been responsible for the death of Princess Diana (Who was ostensibly supposed to bear their new messiah), mass suicides, and just about any conspiracy theory you care to think of. The Invisibles are basically the anarchist's wet dream: They embody the rejection of culture, society, history, and every possible convention that would normally go unchallenged. And while all of this may sound like 7-Up's current ad campaign on LSD, it's a lot brighter and much more creatively realized then you could ever expect.
Volume 2 snapped, crackled, and popped on the strength of Morrison's smooth-as-liquid-silver scripting and far-out imaginings coupled with the equally smooth and far-out pencils of Phil Jiminez and Chris Weston. Volume 3 is similar in script, but the art of Philip Bond (Who produced some sweet, sweet work on the Invisibles tie-in story "And We're All Policemen" in the 1997 VERTIGO WINTER'S EDGE special) is a little less suited for this version of the Invisibles. It's crisp and it's clear and it's wonderfully stylistic, but it doesn't have the same juxtaposition of beautiful imagery and kick-your-scrawny-ass action as Jiminez or Weston. There's still a pop-art sensibility to it that matches up with the title nicely; it just runs second to the work of those others. The writing is... well, the writing's the same as every other issue of THE INVISIBLES; you're not supposed to understand it easily, and you never will unless you hop inside Grant's mind while he's on a drug trip. Actually, that's inaccurate; if you've read every previous issue of both volumes of the series you can construct a frame-of-reference in which nearly all events have impact; but otherwise, you're just here for the ride. It's always hard to recommend THE INVISIBLES to a friend in good conscience because no matter how wonderful and enjoyable the series is, it's unavoidable that whoever reads it for the first time will get their head screwed with in a big way. This issue also heaps into the mix old characters from the first volume and at least one brand-new one without introduction, so that if you're just leaping aboard you'd need a scorecard to know who was who when (The Indian woman in the two-page interlude is new; she's apparently about to take Boy's place on the five-member team). For all his beloved ambiguity, however, Morrison is still telling a great story in a fun way; playing on the information-overload undercurrent, the lettering "censors" the name of a public offical Sir Miles Delacourt deals with in Hard-Copy fashion; and he hauls in pop-culture references which range from the throwaway (A Teletubby with a cross on its head) to the important (H.P. Lovecraft's Old Gods are apparently one of the manifestations of the Outer Church).It's become apparent to me that I've written this entire review and said very little about the comic. INVISIBLES is undoubtedly the toughest series to review out of the thirty-odd comics I read regularly; but it's also my favorite to read. Hopefully all the bizarre crap flowing from my keyboard has you interested enough to give it a try (One issue is not enough; any of the TPBs-- SAY YOU WANT A REVOLUTION, BLOODY HELL IN AMERICA, or COUNTING TO NONE-- would probably do the trick nicely, though you can always just pick up an issue and try to keep your head from exploding). 8.5 out of 10. Advisory: R, Suggested For Mature Readers. R.I.Y.L.: Transmetropolitan, The Minx, Preacher, X-Men, Doom Patrol, Channel Zero, Sandman, JLA. Pop Culture Parallel: Probably couldn't hurt to freshen up on your H.P. Lovecraft before you check out the current arc.
"Out here I can hear insects shagging. I can hear the grass grow. I can sit up on that mountain all day if I want. I've vowed I won't be satisfied until I can hear radio with the naked ear." Back To HomeFirst question: Do you like stories that aren't focused on superheroes? Second question: Do you like stories that have a base to them? Something with a complex, evolving plot that leaves you squirming? Third question: Are you reading Kabuki? Because if your answer to the first two was yes, you had better be! I can't say enough about Kabuki. It's got drama, violence, revenge, horror, comedy...well, okay, not much, but you gotta admit the Mad Tea Party was amusing...and best of all, it's so surreal and yet so absolutely normal.
Some facts: Kabuki is told from the point of view of an insane, scarred, and amazing woman. You see what she sees, hears what she hears, and know what she knows. The storyline is one of violence, revenge, horror, and love. The art is...what to say? Fantastic, extrordinary, wonderful, beautiful, marvellous? Fill in with your own appropriate word! David Mack is absolutely stunning, and I say this from the point of view of a non-art person. The early issues...Fear the Reaper, Circle of Blood, and Masks of the Noh...are all in black and white. That makes for a very stark look and seems to strike more cords. Skin Deep and the newest series from Image are done in color, though the later stuff seems to be mostly watercolor. The art is integrated with the words to such a degree that sometimes, you have search for a meaning, and sometimes the words ARE the art. Trust me, to read an issue of Kabuki, you better have a good half hour to absorb and stare.
Basic plot: Kabuki is a government assassain in a clandestine organization called the Noh. She gets sent out to kill the gangsters and the corrupt politicians of Japan's streets. All straight and forward, right? Well, there's your violence (and it's really not for the squeamish). But then things get twisted, and your revenge pops up (Hey, dudes, beware...this is the entire Circle of Blood storyline laid out before you with all the major background! SPOILER).Kabuki was originally born from a woman. Duh, right? Uh uh. Here's the scoop. Kabuki's mother was named Tsukiko, "moon child." She was Ainu (which is, for the uninformed, a caucasian Japanese). The Ainu are not regarded very highly in Japanese culture; even throughout it's history, they've been driven away, until they now mostly live in Hokkaido (the northernmost Japanese island). Well, during WWII when Tsukiko was less than ten years old, she was kidnapped from her farm by Japanese soldiers. She was shipped as military supplies (!!) to a base, where she was expected to perform certain duties for the good of her country. However, the general there, known as General Sun because he fought for the glory of Japan, did not allow Tsukiko and the other comfort women to be molested. Instead, he ordered them to perform ancient Kabuki dramas. Now, here's the catch and a quick background: Kabuki is a from of theatre developed near Kyoto by a priestess. Throughout it's history, women were the main characters and players. However, they were banned (I don't remember when) to promote public morality because, offstage, they were usually prostitutes. So the men, the soldiers, come to regard the comfort women as prostitutes...They were not true Japanese, but rather Ainu, Korean and Burmese girls.
General Sun came to love Tsukiko. He had a son, though, a truly vicious and cruel young man who felt that Tsukiko was nothing better than a slave and a dog. This son, Ryuchi Kai, hated Tsukiko because his father loved her. He attempted to molest her one day, and the General stopped him before he go far enough...this caused the two to become bitter enemies.When WWII ends, Tsukiko is displaced. She cannot return to her home. The General asks her to marry him, and she accepts. However, the two cannot fully escape their pasts. The General has grown in the government to such a position that his very existance is a closely kept secret. His son Kai grows in the opposite direction; he has become a very strong prescence in the underworld and his existance is anything BUT a secret. Kai soon learns of his plans to wed Tsukiko, and his anger is boundless. How can his father, a good, upstanding, honorable Japanese man marry an Ainu dog? He accosts Tsukiko at the temple the night before her wedding. By the time she is found the next day, she is near death. And pregnant.
When Tsukiko gives birth to a girl, she dies. The girl, who is named Ukiko, or girl of the rain, feels that her mother's spirit has fled into her body. Ukiko is raised by the General, who though he never consumated with Tsukiko, still feels responsible for the child. It is many years before Kai learns of Ukiko's birth (He, like a good little daddy, was off killing, murdering, and amassing a fortune). When he discovers her, he is furious! To him, she is worse than Ainu, worse than Japanese...she is a mixture of two races that should never be mixed. Like her mother before her, Ukiko is accosted by Kai when she is eight. He carves the three kanji for Kabuki into her face...'song,' 'dance,' and 'action'. He leaves her for dead. She dies.The finest hospitals and doctors bring her back, but she is scarred and can no longer act like a child. She belives that she is the reincarnated spirit of Tsukiko, like that of a Kabuki drama, and that she must get revenge for her mothers death. The General sends her to the finest of schools and she learns to kill. Eventually, she is graduated, to take a place in the Noh, the General's secret assasain group, with the name of Kabuki. (And I won't spoil the rest of the story...mostly because, that's where it gets surreal, and that's where the great storylines kick back in. And I'm also tired of typing!).
For now, let's just say that Kabuki sends some people to keep her mother company. Alot of them (including Kai). And... then she dies (again). Only, they can't let her die now, can they? Uh uh. So what do they do? Send her right back to the land of the living to pluck her brain and see what psycho stuff they can dig up. A group called Control Corps gets their hands on her. Control Corps is another government agency that regulates and collects rogue agents to reprogram and reassign them. The Doctor probes Kabuki's mind as Kabuki probes herself, to discover who she really is...her mother? Herself? The incarnation of Kabuki, assasain, or Ukiko, little girl?The trilogy story of Skin Deep opens with the Noh agents Siamese fighting for their lives. At their feet lies a dead girl with a Noh tattoo. They say she is Kabuki, but the dead girl's face is gone and they can't positively identify her. The other rogue agents in the asylum begin to attack them, and one of Siamese is hit. Her sister drags her away, they set up a bomb, and in a couple seconds everything blows up.
Rewind. Kabuki is lying on a bed. It's hours, days, minutes before the asylum is blown up. Kabuki discovers that she's in a room surrounded by pictures of friends, a home, and recent pictures of her mother. It takes her no time at all to see that these things are merely ficticious...she's never hugged her mother, and she's never had friends. She realizes that "they"...whoever they are...are trying to disorient her. She dresses, the mysterious "they" providing her with clothes, and is taken to see the Doctor. The Doctor tries to be Kabuki's friend. She tells her that she gave her own blood to save Kabuki's life. She says that she's there to help. In fact, she tries every psychoanalytical trick that she can to get Kabuki to tell her where she comes from. Kabuki won't talk. She tells the Doctor to bring her the mask, the one she wore when she was with the Noh, and then they'd talk.Control Corps arn't happy with Kabuki. They lock her back into her room, which is bare now, and leave her there. She doesn't talk. Then they start to break her mind...they drug her and then change the color of her room. They dress her differently. They send people to the door to ask her questions about the Noh and what she did there. They try to create doubt and fear in her mind. Kabuki discovers what they're doing eventually, and they don't come in anymore (after kicking the crap out of one of the guards, I wouldn't go near her either!). When the guards stop coming, she gets messages folded into paper squares from Akemi ( note this, those who are reading Kabuki now and just discovered who Akemi is). As the story progresses (and no, I won't tell you everything that happens) Akemi and Kabuki become friends through Akemi's origami designs. Akemi used to be a Noh operative, the original Tigerlily, until she went rogue and was replaced. Kabuki is at first afraid of her because she used to be Noh, but eventually lost her fear and became fierce friends with Akemi. Akemi and Kabuki's adventure continues after Skin Deep in the new Image series. We finally meet Akemi for the first time in issue #1, and the girls begin their escape that same issue.
Trust me, Kabuki is one comic you want to get your hands on. This new Skin Deep HC was part of a re-release from Image. The Circle of Blood (the first six stories in the Kaubki series) HC was released around a month ago, copies may still be found. Rating is 10 out of 10, highly recommended!! RIYL: Vertigo."I end up playing solitaire with a toilet tissue deck of fity two cards."
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