GN Review -- Spider-Man: Peter Parker / Bob Gale, Tom Peyer, Patrick Olliffe and Todd Nauck

As much as I love seeing Spider-Man throw down and trash some bad guys, I do find it a welcome respite from time to time, to see more of his day-to-day life as Peter Parker, which over the years has come to be every bit as colorful and interesting as his life in webs.  In Spider-Man: Peter Parker, there is still plenty of webslinging action, but we get a lot more focus on his civilian life and the people he interacts with.

J. Jonah Jameson has been elected mayor, and is chomping at the bit to get Spider-Man put away and boost his faltering image.  In fact, he's squandering taxpayers' money to install special cameras and fund an "anti-Spider squad" to catch him.  Throw in some odd appearances by a new villain called Spectrum, and Spider-Man has his hands full just trying to stay alive, to say nothing about protecting his own public image.

He gets some unexpected help from a group of high school girls, who decide to use his example as inspiration and form the Spider-Girls, a service group aiming to make the world a better place.  When their image becomes popular, a thinly-veiled Paris Hilton celebutante clone swoops in and steals their thunder.  A media tug-of-war ensues, and Spider-Man gets involved by talking to both sides, trying hard to guide them to settle things civilly, do the right thing, and keep the mayor's Anti-Spider Squad and the ever-present Spectrum contained.

The final chapter of this collection tacks on a completely unrelated story involving a mentally traumatized Spider-Man and the Thing, working together to find out who caused a mental blackout in him that made him temporarily take charge of a group of homeless people.  As they take out an AIM lab, one of the homeless woman he led finds out his real identity, and destroys all the records to protect him.

With the exception of the last story, which feels completely unrelated and tacked on just for the purpose of filling out volume, I really enjoyed this collection.  It's fun seeing Spider-Man deal with publicity issues, particularly when he gets a chance to stick it to Jonah.  He takes his responsibility as a role model to the Spider-Girls very seriously, going to bat for them on more than one occasion in both his civilian and his super-hero guises.  And the Parker Luck is in full swing here, as Spidey very often gets shown in a bad light whenever he's just trying to do what he sees as the right thing.

Gale's writing here is pretty memorable.  He plays with the theme of appearance vs. reality masterfully, using both the Spider-Girls and Teri Hillerman as extreme examples of good and bad.  He also adds deft touches of humor; I found it particularly amusing that Ms. Hillerman kept asking Spider-Man questions about his body and how he likes to "do it."  Puerile playfulness at its best.  I couldn't really get into Peyer's story, as it felt too compacted and rushed to be a one-issue story.  I'm sure he did the best with what he could, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that this was filler.

The artwork in both stories is good.  I can't recall having see Olliffe's work before, but demonstrates an appropriate knack for drawing people, be they in large groups or singular shots.  It's a little flat and cartoony, but nothing to complain about, as it certainly suits the superhero comics medium.  Nauck's linework has more depth, which complements the darker narrative in which he's working.

Overall, this volume is a lot of fun.  Spidey vs. Jonah, Spider-Girls vs. Paris Hilton knock-off, Spidey vs. bad publicity... there's potential for a lot here.  Spidey fans could probably get  along without reading it, but I'm not sure why they'd want to.  Highly recommended.

GN Review -- Logicomix: An Epic Search For Truth / Apostolos Doxiadis, Christos H. Papadimitriou, Alecos Papadatos, and Annie di Donna

I looked at the premise of Logicomix with more than a little bit of apprehension, particularly when I finally figured out what that premise was.  Essentially, it's the story of Bertrand Russell's meticulously academic and logically reasoned justification of the pacifism for which he eventually became famous.   A little bland, I admit, but not an altogether unfit story for a comic book.

And if it had simply been presented as that, I might have less ambivalence toward the book.

Presented as a "story within a story within a story"--that's right, there are three different narrative frameworks going on in this story--Logicomix makes constant self-referential comics creation methods, even as it debates and deconstructs them within the frameworks of logic, philosophy and mathematics through its characters' and creators' observations.  At the outermost frame, we have the creators, Apostolos, Christos, Alecos, Annie, and Anne, a researcher, discussing the specifics of the comic: Russell's life, his work, and the people he encounters.  They often argue and debate one another during the "comic's" creation, often about what the significant morals, points, and themes of the story should be.  Bertrand Russell's lecture, the next story framework, directly informs the third, which is his narration of his lifelong quest to provide an indubitable foundation for mathematics and the people he encounters during his quest to do so.

At over 300 pages, this is certainly an ambitious story, and one that, I fear, takes too long to reach its conclusion, make its point, and wrap things up.  I'm not one to propose that action and adventure must be the only things we see in comics, but I do believe that if you're going to write a narrative of such significant length in a sequential art format, then you'd better have a way to hold your readers' interest and keep them wanting to know what happens next.  If you can't do that, you'll end up with a thick tome that's not good for much more than a paperweight.

Is that what Logicomix is?  Not to me, though I will qualify that I was significantly less interested in reading this than I typically am of most comics.  It was educational, which I think was its saving grace, but I'm not sure how it will hold up for most readers.  The art is fairly simple and not particularly stellar, though it works well enough for the premise of a comic essentially about the logical justification for pacifism in the face of war.

While it has more than a few of its own flaws, it's not a bad read.  It's also, by the same token, not a great read.  Not having been previously familiar with Russell's life or works, I found it at least educational and informative, although the constant interruptions to the multiple narratives were both off-putting.  The introductions of multiple philosophers, mathematicians, and logicians in Bertrand's life with whom I was not familiar was also a little taxing, though I will acknowledge that as more my problem than the narrative's, as the creators were at least thoughtful enough to include them and many concepts in Logicomix in a glossary at the end of the book.

With all that said, I won't claim this as particularly gripping or fun material.  It's interesting in places, but I'm not sure that will be enough to keep lovers of traditional comics reading.  Recommended, but with reservations.

GN Review -- Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane: Sophomore Jinx / Terry Moore & Craig Rousseau

I’m generally not a fan of teen love dramas, shojo manga, or romances in general, though there are clearly exceptions to the rule.  In the case of the Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane series, I’m willing to make a big exception for several reasons, the first of which is the writing of Houston-based comics creator Terry Moore, who’s proven himself more than capable of writing interesting, deftly crafted women characters.  With him in charge of the characters in the Spider-Man mythos who I’ve read about extensively and love, there’s little reason for a discriminating reader not to at least check it out.

Mary Jane Watson, starting her sophomore year at Midtown High, is looking forward to a great year, but soon finds that things won’t be as simple as she’d like.  Between a working mom she hardly ever sees, a perpetual tendency to be late to classes and work, and her uncertainties toward the friends in her life, including Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy, and former boyfriend Harry Osborn, she finds herself struggling to keep her social life straight, to say nothing about being popular.  With disapproving teachers and co-workers hounding her, and the mysterious onset of a website slandering her, MJ’s only respites seem to be in her friendship with hyper-busy Liz Allan, and the occasional check-in from her super-hero crush, the mysterious Spider-Man.

I can’t say enough good things about Terry Moore’s skills as a writer (and it’s not just because I’ve met him and worked with him).  Anyone who’s read his most famous work, Strangers In Paradise, knows he can both write and draw women who are imperfect, intriguing, and infinitely involving and lovable.  He applies the writing skills with aplomb to MJ, Liz, Gwen, and even Flash Thompson and Harry Osborn, delivering a story that lays bare the complexities of teenage relationships and the uncertainties of knowing who your friends are.  He utilizes several tropes from the Spider-Man mythos effectively for the purposes of this story, including Peter’s apparent aloofness, Harry’s lack of success with women, and Gwen’s sweetness as well as Flash’s swagger.

While I was more than a little disappointed not to see Moore’s hand behind the artwork, Craig Rousseau does an excellent job of conveying the cute-yet-not-model-perfect appearances of the teens in this series, particularly the girls.  The slight exaggeration and cartoony style fits the narrative, and makes for a nice reminder that these characters are the younger, less developed and more uncertain versions of the characters in the Spider-Man universe.  It’s a good match to Terry Moore’s writing, and captures the youthful apprehension and angst of the teen years, before the relative stability and confidence that comes with becoming an adult.

Overall, I enjoyed Sophomore Jinx quite a bit, though I’ll understand if it doesn’t sit well with your traditional Spider-Man enthusiasts.  The writing is tight, the concept is a creative reimagining of the characters, and the artwork is well-matched to the narrative.  There’s not much in the way of action, but the plot makes a good character study for MJ.  Highly recommended.

GN Review -- The Ultimates, v. 1: Super-Human / Mark Millar, Bryan Hitch, and Andrew Currie

After being exposed to the Ultimate Marvel universe through the pages of Ultimate Spider-Man some years ago, I was pretty excited to get my hands on The Ultimates books.  The blending and re-imagining of familiar elements from the original universe into a more modern and edgier narrative made me wonder just what stops they would be pulling for the reworking of Marvel's premier super-hero team, the Avengers.  How would they come together?  How would they interact?  What would be different?  What wouldn't be?

Plenty of all, as it happens.

These Ultimates, like their Avengers counterparts, had been brought together by circumstances beyond each individual.  But these guys are a hell of a lot darker: Bruce Banner is berated by his colleagues and wife, and harbors a starkly psychopathic Hulk; Iron Man drinks to deal with the reality of his brain tumor; Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne beat the crap out of each other when they argue, and have no qualms about using their powers on one another.  Thor is either the real deal or, more likely, a homeless guy with delusions of grandeur, and Captain America, while definitely the real deal, suffers several forms of shell shock from having woken up decades after his proper time.

In addition to being an interesting spin on a familiar team, it's a lot of fun to see some of the more modernized elements of the narrative, mostly in the form of cameos that will undoubtedly date this story in the years to come.  Shannon Elizabeth, George W. Bush, and Freddie Prinze, Jr. are just a few of the names and/or faces that place this story squarely in the early 2000s.  It's a bold step to take for a comic book, where readers are mostly treated to an elastic and blithely imprecise timeline that preserves the heroes' agelessness and timeliness. Time will tell if this particular formula holds up, but you have to give Mark Millar credit for being willing to draw such a line in the sand.

I know this series was plagued by delays for a long time, so I have to admit I'm glad I got to read it long after its publication, because I was chomping at the bit to get my hands on the second volume at the end of this one. This volume ends after a major victory--the Ultimates triumphing over a crazed Hulk rampage--but there's plenty of fallout looming, and things take a turn for the vicious in the domestic arena when some of the team members lose their tempers with each other.  It not only sets up a couple of sub-plots nicely for further reading, but makes you wonder why, with all the flaws in these iterations of the Avengers, you can't help but want to read more and more.

Art-wise, Super-Human looks every bit as good as it's intended to be.  I can't claim to be familiar with much of Bryan Hitch's work, but his pencils set the tone (and a high bar) for the story, taking the narrative to the visual heights and scope demanded by the script.  The Hulk looks creepy and wildly menacing, Banner looks nebbish and pathetic, Janet looks cute and Rogers looks studly... and the scenery is accurate, well-drawn, and its own vision to behold.  The close-ups of various characters look especially realistic, and the overall style is well-suited to a modern epic of heroic proportions.

This was an undeniably entertaining read.  It did a good job of re-envisioning the Avengers myth, and made the people in it feel more realistic, even if they felt a whole lot uglier in places because of it.  The writing was well-paced, the dialog was witty, and we get to see a big freaking battle with the Hulk.  I'd say it's worth a read if you haven't checked it out before.  Highly recommended.

Of Mutants and Humanity: My Take on the X-Men's Status-By-Way-of-Tax-Law

Oh, no!  Marvel doesn't consider their own X-Men to be human!  What ever shall we do?

A recent story by Radiolab describes a court case that essentially details the fact that Marvel's official legal position on mutants is that they are not, in fact, considered human, despite the thematic content of their stories portrayed in their comics.  The basic argument is that the action figures they import into the U.S. for sale should be considered "toys," which are taxed at a far lower rate than "dolls."  The difference between toys and dolls in U.S. trade law is that toys is that dolls are considered representations of human beings, and toys are representations of non-humans, like monsters, robots, animals, and... well, you get the drift I'm sure.

And there have been all kinds of reactions in the comics world.  Essentially, there was a collective bemoaning of the fact that Marvel is taking the official position that they don't consider their own creations human, with basic human rights.  The line of thinking seems to be that, since Marvel publishes stories about the struggle of mutants to be accepted by the humans of that universe, that it shouldn't be taking the legal position of classifying their characters as non-human so that they can save a buck on import taxes for their toys.

I know I'm a little late to this particular party, mostly because I've tried to avoid the insanity/inanity of this entire non-debacle debacle.  I'm also not going to pretend I'm anyone particularly important, but after absorbing enough of the fallout from this issue, I think I should express my own opinion on this issue.

Succinctly: haters, get over it.

There are plenty of reasons I feel this case has reached a logical, well-placed conclusion, and it seems that a lot of our industry stalwarts have overlooked a few basic facts and realities in bewailing it.  It mostly comes down to my opinions about how mythologies are and should be treated, but there are a few logical statements in there that can not be ignored by a rational person.  Basically, a few of the reasons I think people should leave well enough alone with this case are as follows:

• This is a customs and taxation case, not a civil rights case.  Yes, the interconnectedness of U.S. law sets a precedent for broader application of this decision, but I highly doubt it's really going to stand if there were an actual civil case that came up regarding someone's status as a human being.  The fact that this decision was reached in regards to the taxation of dolls toys--NOT living, breathing people--will have a minimal, if any, influence on whether or not a theoretical someone with a sudden, significant mutation is entitled to the basic freedoms and rights of a human being.  
• The non-human label applies to all Marvel character, not just mutant characters.  So while the X-Men and other mutant characters from the publisher may not be considered human, neither are a lot of characters who ostensibly are: the Avengers, Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, the Hulk, are not human.  But neither are the Punisher, who has NO superhuman powers, or Mary Jane Watson or Harry Osborn, Spider-Man's human friends.  If they're Marvel creations, they're not human.  So, it's not like Marvel is discriminating against its mutants here.  It's an equal-opportunity humanity stripper (of toys).
• Charles Xavier’s dream was of peaceful co-existence between mutants AND humans.  Ergo, mutants are intrinsically not human, according to one of the most relevant minds on the issue.  Logic'd!
• Superheroes are like our modern mythology, or our gods, if you will.  Are gods human? Of course they're not.  I mean, if anything, this decision is in some ways an elevation of its characters, an acknowledgment that the creations within a modern mythology are intrinsically not, as mythological figures, human.  Personally, I don't have any problem calling Emma Frost, MJ, or Spider-Woman goddesses ;-), and I basically see this as Marvel officially backing my stance. :-P
• These decisions are applied to intellectual property, NOT REAL PEOPLE.  I feel most of my points already support this statement, but it bears its own bullet point.  None of this is being applied to real people, and I can't help the feeling that were this to apply to real people, the stakes would be much higher and this would be a far more scrutinized issue in the comics world, not to mention the public eye.  Marvel's decision to try to save some money on shipping taxes shouldn't be taken as a hypocrisy in regard to the themes of its stories for this reason alone.

Okay, fine.  I'll worship you all. *sigh*

So, there you have it.  I'm not particularly bothered by any of this, and see it for (what I think) it is, which is essentially a business decision to keep the overhead as low as possible and save some money.  If anything, I think it support the idea that it's an elevation of its characters as mythological figures, even if it's one that brings to light that these characters are intellectual property they own, and control for time eternal.  

Finally, I think that the reaction to this has been very... well... reactionary, and not particularly well thought out.  

GN Review -- X-Force: Sex + Violence / Craig Kyle, Christopher Yost and Gabriele Dell'Otto

If there's a guilty pleasure I have in comics, it's gotta be this story.  It really doesn't offer up much more than its title states, but hey, at least it's honest.  And it's one hell of a fun ride.

I haven't really read X-Force since the days when its membership roster included Cable, Shatterstar and Boom-Boom (among others), and even back then I couldn't escape the vaguely nagging thought that this was a team that was superfluous.  Individually, some of them were cool, but collectively, they didn't even really feel like a team.  So when an X-Force title was announced after years of apparent slumber, I wasn't so enthused.  But if this is a representative sample of what the team is about today, then I can definitely see why this darker, grittier incarnation of the them is getting such rave reviews.

Sex + Violence starts with Wolverine finding out why Domino is suddenly in need of some serious healing from teammate Elixir, which leads to her explaining a job she worked with the Assassins Guild that ended up getting the ninjas of the Hand on their bad side.  Throw in some previously unmentioned slave girls and a stash of hundreds of millions in cash, Domino decided to double-cross her employers, who of course are now trying to kill her.  Wolverine takes her to square things away with the Guild, where they bicker, shed assassin blood, and rip each other's clothes off while they try to stay alive and remove the death sentence hanging over Domino's pretty little head.

One of the things that really grabs me about this story is the sheer amount of blood spilled from the get-go.  I'm not used to seeing this much carnage in a Marvel title, but when it's done this well, I don't mind in the slightest.  Craig Kyle and Christopher Yost may not have picked a particularly imaginative plot, but they executed it extremely well, bringing the two stars into the middle of a conflict involving two of Marvel's deadliest and, likely, bloodiest villain groups, and making full use of the setup.  Using Wolverine's claws and Domino's guns to maximum effect, they make sure they give every bit as good as they get, and it's extremely satisfying to watch.

I also am intrigued by how Domino has changed over the years.  She was on the original X-Force team, and as I recall seemed something of a mother figure.  That's clearly gone out the window by this point, and now that she's free of Cable and the kids, she really shines as a greedy, manipulative, but way too cute and cocky femme fatale.  It really works for her character, as does her "I'm on board with killing our enemies" attitude that, I assume, places her on this team.

I'm very much in love with the art in this story.  Gabriele Dell'Otto's painted work makes every page look like a poster book with words.  They bring all the blood, violence, and lust that permeates the narrative directly to the forefront in an immediate and urgent way that both shocks and titillates.  It kept me reading, and I won't deny I re-read this story a few times to just admire some of the illustrations.

Very suggestive in its premise, and delivering as much as possible on it without tipping into adults-only territory, Sex + Violence is a fun romp through the X-verse, pairing two very entertaining characters who work well together, despite all the bickering.  If you don't mind a bit of lust and blood in your comics diet, I strongly suggest you check it out.  Highly recommended.

GN Review -- Spider-Man: American Son / Joe Kelly, Phil Jimenez, et. al.

I have a lot of pity for Harry Osborn.

Seriously, he's got to be one of the most tormented characters in comics.  First and foremost, he grew up with Norman Osborn as his father, which I think singlehandedly accounts for all the other terrible things that tend to happen to him.  He was the son who was never good enough for his father, causing him to virtually bleed the need for validation from everyone around him, which also led to his station as the rich, well-meaning, but mostly ineffectual friend.  Being such a pathetic figure eventually cursed him with a drug addiction, venture after venture to succeed his father as the Green Goblin, and a barely redemptive death that was eventually retconned by the travesty storyline, One More Day.

You'd think life got better for him after his return, but not really.  His attempts at sobriety appear tenuous at best, his string of successful coffee shops are sneered at by his father, and his hot new girlfriend, Lily Hollister, starts taking his dad's Goblin Serum and starts sleeping with the old man.  And then becomes pregnant with his child.  His close friendship with Peter is tempered by his intense hatred of Spider-Man, which often causes him to ignore or berate his friend.  After a while you wonder, is this guy ever gonna become his own man, or will he always be trapped in his insane father's shadow?

In Spider-Man: American Son, you get a fierce answer.

It's the time of the Dark Reign, when Norman Osborn is essentially the top cop in the U.S. and has his own team of (Dark) Avengers (among others) at his command.  Osborn, who calls himself the Iron Patriot now, has plans to bring his son Harry onto the team, infuriating Peter and causing him to try to infiltrate the team to figure out what his real plans are.  When he's found out, he's captured and tormented by Osborn and the Dark Avengers, as his plans for Harry demonstrate just how depraved, manipulative, and psychotic Osborn truly is.

It's a well-written tale, full of intrigue, danger, and discovery as we finally see Harry come to grips with one of the darkest, most humiliating realizations of his life and decide his path from that point.  Norman offers his son a great deal of power and comfort, even as he masterminds and attempts to orchestrate his eventual demise and impregnates his fiancee.  When Harry gives up Spider-Man to his father, it's a show of loyalty and trust that he comes to regret, and for which he quickly and effectively makes amends, donning the American Son armor and taking on his old man in the kind of one-on-one, super-powered combat that superhero fans just love to see.

Peter's concern for Harry and his hatred for Norman, while strident in this story, are fully justified when you know these characters' histories, both as an individuals and in relation to one another.  There's a memorable moment where, at one point, Osborn asks a captured Spider-Man about his interest in his son's welfare.  "Are you in love with my son?" he asks him.  In a sense, it's true, particularly when you consider that friendship is a form of love, and Peter's obsessive desire to keep Norman away from Harry is one manifestation of that love.  Why wouldn't you want to protect your best friend?

Of course, a story like this begs the question of how well a reader who doesn't know these characters so well will regard this story.  I personally think it stands well enough on its own: Norman manipulates Harry, fathers an unborn child with his fiancee, and essentially keeps her as a pet supervillain.  He berates Harry's life, and shows unequivocally how little he thinks of his son.  When Harry finally casts his father off, it's easy to understand why he does so, just in the context of Joe Kelly's narrative.  It's a testament to his deft characterization, as well as his ability to make a story interesting and engaging.

I enjoyed the artwork, but it's hard to give credit to any one person.  Still, the switching up of pencilers and inkers doesn't call undue attention to the artwork, and works to support the story well.  I did enjoy the visual of Harry, when he finally takes his first swing at his father, calling his American Son armor onto himself in preparation for their final fight.  I also think Harry walking away from a defeated, snarling Norman at the end is well rendered, and underscores both his redemption of character and his growth into his own man memorably.

Overall, I really enjoyed this story.  In Spectacular Spider-Man #200, Harry's redemption is barely there, mostly due to the fact that he died saving Peter.  In Spider-Man 3, he's given a much better send-off, more heroic and less of his own making.  It seems American Son is Kelly's attempt to top even that, with Harry taking on his own father, and surviving, to walk away from his influence forever.  Definitely a story for Spider-Man fans, and anyone who finally wants to see poor Harry come into his own.  Highly recommended.

GN Review -- Johnny Cash: I See a Darkness / Richard Kleist

Gritty.  Stark.  Full of dark, uncompromising energy.  These descriptions could all apply to the life of Johnny Cash, but they also lend themselves well to the graphic biography about him by Reinhard Kleist, Johnny Cash: I See a Darkness.

Narrating Cash’s life and musical career, chiefly the twelve-year period between his early recordings and the famous Folsom Prison concert, Kleist weaves a tale that, while already familiar to anyone with even a passing knowledge of Cashs’ life, easily grabs the reader’s interest.  With stunning black and white artwork and an unblinking portrayal of the hard life Cash lived, this is one book that definitely feels like a biography of the Man in Black.  While it may not pack the standard level of detail of his life that a traditional biography may include, the sequential art narration of this book makes for a stylistically superior document that justifies its place among any of the other “proper” Cash biographies out there.

Chronicling Cash’s early life as part of a farming family and moving into his early singing career, we see a number of events familiar to fans, from Cash’s interactions with other musicians of the era to his copious substance abuse.  His first failed marriage eventually gives way to his infatuation and eventual pairing with June Carter, who struggles valiantly (and often in vain) to break him of his wild habits.  We see his meeting of Glen Sherley at Folsom Prison, and Cash’s introspections on Sherley late in his life.

Only having the barest of familiarity with Johnny Cash’s songs and life, I mainly enjoyed this from a storytelling perspective.  This is a story of a man whose demons truly do scare him, and that fear often drives him to stupid actions, against the advice of even his closest friends and loved ones.  He seems to eventually gain some control over his feelings of hopelessness and loneliness with time and support, giving a feeling of hope towards the end of the narrative.

I also really enjoyed the visual depictions of some of Cash’s songs, which served as interesting segues throughout the narrative.  “A Boy Named Sue” was particularly recognizable and amusing, while “The Ballad of Ira Hayes” and “Ghost Riders In the Sky” were also noteworthy for their visual presentations.  I kept hoping to see “Ring of Fire,” but sadly was disappointed on that front.

Kleist’s artwork does an excellent job of supporting the narrative.  The grittiness and detail of the black and white pictures lends a definite air of noir to the biography, certainly appropriate when one considers the subject and the events portrayed in his life.  On top of that, Kleist doesn’t shy away from detailing the hard knocks Cash takes, from the vagaries of his drug abuse to the impact of his face hitting the steering wheel while on a particularly bad bender.  Even the lines in his face that come with age and neglect are stark and difficult to forget.

Overall, this was a very enjoyable read.  Any fan of Johnny Cash will certainly enjoy the portrayal this biography offers, as will anyone who enjoys biographies in general.  It is well crafted, with an interesting narrative structure to which fans of the graphic novel will likely take a shine.  Highly recommended.

GN Review -- Serenity: The Shepherd's Tale / Zack Whedon and Chris Samnee

I am an unabashed fan of Joss Whedon's sci-fi/western show Firefly, and when I learned of the existence of the graphic novel based on it, I eagerly searched for them.  By November 2010, I'd heard of the impending publication of Serenity: The Shepherd's Tale, and was chomping at the bit to get a hold of this story.  Shepherd Book, the character who is the focus of this story, was one of the most compelling and mysterious members of Serenity's crew, and to have his back-story finally revealed in a comic book format was nothing short of miraculous, I felt.

But as I read the story, I couldn't help but come away with a profound sense of disappointment.

It isn't that the book lies to the reader in any way, or that it's poorly written, or even poorly illustrated (though I do feel the art does pale in comparison to other graphic stories of this property).  The Shepherd's Tale does exactly what it sets out to do, which is to reveal the specifics about Derrial Book's life and activities before he met up with Serenity and her crew.  It's creatively structured, with good little points of dialog and character development.  And while the art may feel less distinctive and crafted than I'd prefer, it does its job of accurately portraying the characters and supporting the mood and plot of the narrative.

Yes, the book (pun not intended) does exactly what it needs to do.  Nothing more, nothing less.

And I think that's my problem with it.

Maybe I've just gotten spoiled by the other Serenity comics.  Maybe I just built up too spectacularly the mystery of Book's origin, to a level so high that no reveal could have possibly lived up to it.  Whatever the case, this particular story was a decent story, and nothing more, which I think is abysmal praise when applied to Firefly and the narratives spawned from the show and film.  I'm so used to being blown away by what I've read in Dark Horse's releases of this franchise, that this story feels comparatively flat and unimpressive.

I thought the use of interlinked flashbacks at the various crossroads in Book's life was pretty interesting, despite the occasional bout of confusion.  The chain of events created leads the reader all the way back to Book's childhood, where he endured an abusive parent and eventually ran away.  His decision to join the Browncoats and spy on the Alliance by rising through the ranks of their military explains how he knows so much about arms and criminals as a Shepherd, but his disastrous singular failure as an Alliance commander also raises questions about why the Alliance treated him so well in an episode of the show.  When he finds God in a bowl of chicken soup, it's both amusing and illuminating, but also feels a little silly and contrived, particularly if you've never watched the show.

I suppose I'm just used to a certain standard of entertainment when I visit the fictitious 'verse of Serenity.  There's a certain depth to the story, or the characters, or the dialog, or the humor, or the simple feeling that this was a labor of love.  The Shepherd's Tale does what it promises, but was nowhere near as fulfilling to experience as the rest of the stories in this franchise.  Maybe this was just destined to be a disappointing story, but I can't help the feeling that, in other hands, this would have been a far deeper, more fulfilling, and ultimately more meaningful story than it turned out to be.

If I had been among Serenity's crew, and traveled and fought alongside Book, and watched him die, as they did, I would naturally want to know more about who he was before he came to be in my life.  This story was like being told by an Alliance administrator, in cold, clipped clarity, those details, as opposed to the warm recollection that would be given by the friaress in the Southdown Abbey from where he came to us.  It would do, but it would feel ultimately disappointing in its delivery.

Recommended, but only for fans of Serenity.  And unfortunately, most of them will still be disappointed.

GN Review -- The Alchemist / Paulo Coelho, Derek Ruiz, and Daniel Sampere

It's easy to lose sight of what you feel you're supposed to with your life when you weigh it against the practical demands of the world: other people's perceptions of what's right and wrong, your own personal economic situation, even your sense of responsibility.  When we're children, we often see most clearly what our own personal legends are supposed to be, but as we gain the means to pursue them as adults, we are often shackled by these worldly constraints, among others.  It makes pursuit nearly impossible, and their realization even more unlikely.  But when you can perceive signs demanding you seek out your personal legend, do you sacrifice reasonable concerns to do so?

That is the question posed in the graphic novel adaptation of The Alchemist.


The Alchemist was originally a novel by Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho that has gone on to achieve a level of worldwide acclaim rare among written works.  So it's not terribly surprising that, some twenty years later when the graphic novel format is becoming a more popular medium, we see an adaptation of the work into a sequential art narrative.  Whether or not it compares favorably to its progenitor isn't something I'm able to assess, since I've never read the novel.

The overarching strength of this story is in the writing, and more specifically in its message of the dogged pursuit your own personal legend.  The travels of the main character, a shepherd boy by the name of Santiago; the characters he meets; and his own travails that end up leading him "there and back again" make for an engrossing and intriguing personal and spiritual journey.  It's likely this message of self-exploration and self-awareness that I imagine is the main theme of the novel on which it's based.

I thought the artwork was pretty good, though Daniel Sampere's use of lines to accentuate wrinkles bordered on excessive in some places.  I was somewhat disappointed in how little exposure he chose to give to the climactic moment of the narrative where Santiago turns himself into the wind, but otherwise thought most of the choices he made suited the story being told.

A few things that rang odd:

• Name display: Coelho's name is the only one prominently displayed on the work.  Unless you check the inside back flap, you won't find the writer who adapted it or the artist.  Now, while I acknowledge Coelho's monumental role in originating the work--hell, I'll even argue that his name should be more prominently displayed than the others--I don't think it's any excuse for keeping hidden the hands who've actually sculpted the work at hand.
• The "I Always Wanted This" Syndrome: Coelho's assertion that it's been an "old dream" of his to see The Alchemist in graphic novel format.  It may be true, but it seems opportunistically timed, particularly given the setup of how the creative team's credits are (not) displayed.  It's like this particular publication has been all about him alone.

Overall, while this isn't your typical comic book, it's not a bad quest story.  The narrative is unconventional and well paced, the artwork is good.  I wouldn't recommend it to fans of traditional comic book fare, be it Eastern or Western, but I do think those readers looking for stories of a spiritual journey, or graphic adaptations of novels.  Recommended.

Film Review -- Captain America: The First Avenger / Joe Johnston, Chris Evans, Hugo Weaving

2011 felt like a pretty good year for movies made from comic books, particularly Marvel movies, which felt somewhat like letdowns after 2008's fun and high-flying action romp, Iron Man.  Don't get me wrong; The Incredible Hulk and Iron Man 2 were alright, and certainly made decent successors to the mantle set forth by Iron Man, but they simply didn't possess the effortless combination of action, story, and pure enjoyability that that initial effort had.  It eventually got me wondering if any director would be able to replicate the feeling Jon Favreau brought to film for Marvel.

Then, along came Captain America: The First Avenger, and my faith was restored.

Even without knowing this was leading to this year's forthcoming super-team film, The Avengers, I was stoked to see this film.  Captain America may not be one of my absolute favorite superheroes, but he's certainly one of the most iconic, and has potentially the most interesting origin story for a modern-day superhero.  When I got wind that they'd be going all the way back to his World War II roots and exploring his development in his "home" time period in the 1940s, I got really excited at the possibilities for characterization, plot, and continuity within the Marvel Cinematic Universe they were creating with this slew of films.

Comic book fans will no doubt be familiar with the plot of the film, which starts with Captain America's humble beginnings.  Steve Rogers is a skinny, medically frail young man with a laundry list of maladies and conditions that disqualifies him from enrollment in the Army to fight in World War II.  Despite this, he attempts multiple times to enlist, eventually catching the attention of a scientist on the verge of a medical breakthrough with a serum that could create the perfect soldier.  When he asks Rogers's reasons for enlisting, the young man replies simply, "I don't like bullies.  I don't care where they're from."

After the serum is administered, Rogers uses his newfound strength and fame to help out in the war effort any way he can, first as a civilian entertainer, then to rescue a group of captured comrades in Italy.  During this rescue, he comes face to face with Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull, who will be his arch-nemesis.  Rogers's efforts are met with enthusiasm, and he forms a team to take down the Red Skull and thwart his use of a mythical object called the tesseract to create weapons of untold power that would destroy the world.

I have to hand it to Joe Johnston: he has a flair for creating visually appealing epic scenarios and bringing a fun, vibrant nostalgia for Americana to the screen.  The experience he got in films like The Rocketeer, October Sky and Jumanji has been refined and applied to magnificent effect in this film that serves as a period piece as much as a comic book film.  He uses it to stage a World War II that is similar but noticeably different from the historical one, in that it's stylized to fit the lore of the Marvel Universe, and I feel he carries this convincingly and to the delight of audiences willing to suspend that smallish piece of disbelief.

The characters are well portrayed in this film.  Chris Evans is a spot-on Steve Rogers/Captain America, and really drives home the humanity and basic good that truly makes him a hero.  Hugo Weaving makes an eerily delightful Red Skull, whose ambitions for power and control account for his garish appearance and ultimate (?) demise.  Other noteworthy performances include Hayley Atwell's Peggy Carter; Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes, Cap's eventual sidekick; Tommy Lee Jones as Col. Chester Phillips; Dominic Cooper as Howard Stark, father to the man who will eventually become Iron Man; Toby Jones as Dr. Arnim Zola; and Stanley Tucci as Dr. Abraham Erskine, the scientist who developed Captain America's Super Soldier Serum.

This film was one of the highlights of 2011 for me in the comics world.  It was fun, action-packed, and made me feel transported to its fictitious universe in a way that most of the other MCU films haven't done.  Captain America fans, comic book enthusiasts, and standard moviegoers alike should all enjoy this one, if not for the plot and characters, then the action and pacing.  Definitely a worthy addition to anyone's movie collection.  Highly recommended.

GN Review -- Serenity: Those Left Behind / Joss Whedon, Brett Matthews and Will Conrad

I seem to be on a tear of comics that are made from pre-existing series these days.

For those of you who haven't seen it, Firefly, the short-lived sci-fi/western show off of which Serenity: Those Left Behind is based, is one of the best shows you've likely never seen.  It only lasted 14 episodes, but developed a dedicated following that endures to this day.  The writing, characterizations, and story arcs were intriguing and gripping, and even though the show was cancelled, it managed to get a movie to wrap up the story in Serenity.

Those Left Behind takes place between the end of Firefly and the beginning of the film Serenity, serving as both a bridge between the two stories and a decent enough action tale on its own.  Starting off with a situation typical of ship captain Malcolm Reynolds' bad luck, we come to see that the crew of Serenity has fallen on hard times and is struggling to make enough money to keep their ship running.  When an associate appears and gives them a job that seems to easy for the money it offers, they find that more than one enemy of theirs has laid a trap for them, and will stop at nothing to tear them apart.

It's a fun little story, and feels just like an episode of the show on which it's based.  This shouldn't be any surprise with series creator (and director of forthcoming movie The Avengers!) Joss Whedon penning the script in conjunction with Brett Matthews.  The crew of Serenity is where they normally are: down on their luck, on the move, and scrounging to make ends meet.  They're the classic underdogs in any fight, and yet they always manage to pull off the slimmest of victories in a fashion that is both convincing and endearing.

The dialog and characterization are also spot-on in this story.  From the judicious use of Mandarin Chinese to the slight country cadence that comes through in their speech, we know that we're in the Firefly 'verse from the dialog alone.  The main characters are also well preserved in speech, manner, and action.  Wash, the ship's pilot, whines at Mal in a manner reminiscent of Alan Tudyk, the actor who plays him, while ship's engineer Kaylee Frye continues to epitomize cuteness, even in high-stress situations.  For fans of the show, these little touches are invaluable to the narrative.

The artwork is wonderful throughout.  I'm not familiar with Will Conrad's other work, but looking at his renditions of the characters was about as close as I figured you could come to seeing the show again as you can in comic books.  It's a step above what I consider the norm for comics, and keeps you looking the book over even after you've read the story.  This volume also contains reprints of the covers by various artists featuring the various crew of Serenity originally done for the single issues that made up this story, and they are also a beautiful addition to the story.

Overall, a highly enjoyable read that won't take you very long.  If you're a Firefly fan and haven't read this book, what's wrong with you?  Read it!  For anyone looking for a good action sci-fi tale with beautiful artwork and interesting characters, definitely check out Serenity: Those Left Behind.  Highly recommended.