Digitally Speaking...#9 "Final Crisis, Pandora"

Final Crisis #1 (DC)
From 2008. Fans have long had a contentious relationship with Grant Morrison's Final Crisis, the so-called conclusion to DC's Crisis trilogy, begun with the seminal Crisis on Infinite Earths from 1985 and Infinite Crisis from 2005.  Whereas Geoff Johns made considerable efforts to tie his sequel in with the Marv Wolfman original story, featuring direct, obvious consequences, Morrison was, well, Grant Morrison.  The greatest link he includes in his extrapolation of the Monitor concept originally featured in the first story, which like most of what Morrison does is greatly expanded in complexity although following the same basic model as before.

Their unifying element concerns the DC notion of the multiverse, which the first Crisis was meant to end and the second one bring back.  Morrison's task, if anything, was to solidify the functional convenience of having different realities present in the same story framework.  There's a Superman side-story that tackles this directly, but Morrison can be more accurately said to explore this idea by integrating some of the less fanciful elements of the DC universe, if "less fanciful elements" can be said to be found among superheroes.

So he sets about his grand vision of what happens when the bad guys win.  Johns himself has recently been exploring that in the pages of Forever Evil, and Marvel has done it, too.  The key difference here, as with any Morrison effort, is the execution, all the spinning parts, the key of which is the classic concept of Jack Kirby's New Gods.

Other than Kirby himself, who originally sought to create a whole mythology and self-contained epic in his Fourth World, aside from chief villain Darkseid's nearly instantaneous appearances as a foe to Superman and the Justice League, few creators ever seemed to know what to do with the New Gods, much less the fans.  They were never popular.  They were a tricky concept, basically two worlds filled with heroes and villains, diametrically opposed.

Morrison ends these worlds and transfers the battleground to Earth.  This debut issue touches on this, as with a number of other things, such as Anthro, whom the writer links with Kirby's Kamandi as well as the classic DC immortal Vandal Savage, who has been alive since he was a caveman.  The Green Lantern Corps is used as a police force.  Villains unite.  A major hero is killed.  Some of these things have been done before, and would be done again.  But not like this.

That's always the point you have to remember when reading Morrison.  Eventually, fans considered Final Crisis to be too outlandish, too sprawling, too ambitious, too convoluted.  But reading this first issue again, I can't help but see how Morrison's typical ambition seems to have once again reached a high note.  It may almost be worth considering this story outside of continuity, as a standalone epic, something that stabs into the sandbox without limits and sees how tall he can build the sandcastle before it all topples over again.

It definitely makes me want to read the rest of the story again.

DC Comics - The New 52 FCBD Special Edition #1 (DC)
From 2012. This is probably one of the happier things I've collected from comiXology.  Free Comic Book Day is basically a geek's own holiday, one I've enjoyed celebrated over the years, but every so often, that experience is compromised, include mine in 2012, the crucial one as far as the emerging New 52 landscape was concerned.  One of the major new characters introduced by DC for the relaunch was Pandora, who was a mysterious presence lurking around the corners in the early going.  This special was going to be her first spotlight.

As with most of the the big stories from DC these days, this was written by Geoff Johns.  The funny thing, this issue is probably one of his weaker, more simplistic efforts in some respects.  Usually Johns can be counted on for snappy dialogue, but there are moments where this story reads like amateur hour.  I can't really account for that.

Otherwise, it's full of his trademark big concepts and insights into the DC universe.  It's also a tease for the "Trinity War" Justice League crossover event.  Pandora herself, although narrator, receives minimal characterization, which is perhaps why her subsequent ongoing series has really been seen as anything important by fans.  Her fellows in the Trinity of Sin, the Phantom Stranger and the Question, are obscure DC icons themselves, and come off better.  Pandora is basically the character from the Greek myth of Pandora's box.

This is not to say that the character doesn't work at all, but this was, like I said, perhaps not the best example.  The character of Cyborg receives far better work, and he's not even technically in the comic.

Still, I'm glad to have read it finally.  In greater context it probably works better, which sometimes happens in comic books.  FCBD releases are meant to entice readers into return as paying customers.  This would probably have done the trick regardless of the few missteps, and that's all that matters.  It got people engaged with the New 52 concept all over again.  That's not a bad thing at all.

Deadpool: The Gauntlet #1 (Marvel)

(via CBDB)

writer: Gerry Duggan, Brian Posehn

artist: Reilly Brown

You know Deadpool?  Maybe he's kind of cool after all.

Maybe he's been a joke of a joke since he originally debuted, but perhaps Deadpool is not completely irredeemable after all.  

The difference between a bad Deadpool comic (which I assume is every other Deadpool comic) and a good one (this one) is knowing about a concept known as context.  In the wrong context, Deadpool is random in word bubble after word bubble, ultimately means nothing, and his stories are instantly pointless.  Any humor to be found has no weight because the character has no depth.  He's the Merc with a Mouth.  As opposed to Spider-Man, who also spends all his time making quips.  Or Nightwing.  Or any number of other superheroes (all of Joss Whedon's Avengers, every Iron Man movie).  Deadpool doesn't stand out except that quipping is the only thing about him.  Usually.

Maybe this has happened before.  I don't know.  This comic was a free preview, and so I maintain my record of never having paid for a Deadpool comic.  But the thing is, it presents context all over the place.  The guy is playing off of a damsel he's rescued, who plays along willingly and is completely smitten...until she sees under his mask.  For no apparent reason, Deadpool is one of the rare comic book characters (Doctor Doom is another; the Phantom of the Opera is the completely unjustified classic precedent I will use to give either of them more credit than they deserve) who wears a mask for a reason.  Like the original Spawn, his face is mincemeat underneath.  Hilariously (for real this time!) the girl immediately gives up on him.

And the writing is pretty good.  There was some controversy when the series on which this comic is based, also by the team of Gerry Duggan and comedian Brian Posehn (a master of slacker deadpan), announced its creative team, which was nothing like the impressive presence creator Rob Liefeld expected for the character.  But really...besides Brian Michael Bendis (no shit, I would buy that comic), who among the current pool genuine comic book writing all-stars is capable of doing Deadpool justice?  Better to give him to a pair of comedians, especially ones who come with relatively little baggage.

It's a gamble that seems to have paid off handsomely.  (Unlike Deadpool's origin...whatever it is.)

The main foe in this story is Dracula.  Marvel loves it some vampires.  I don't know that there have ever been any good Marvel vampires stories (probably the Blade movies come closest), but the company keeps trying.  And perhaps it's Deadpool, improbably, to the rescue!

The other big draw to Duggan and Posehn's take on the character is his upcoming wedding.  Deadpool gets married???  Somehow I trust these guys to pull it off, no matter how they do it.

And maybe, just maybe, I will buy me a Deadpool comic written by someone other than Brian Michael Bendis.

Deadpool Kills Deadpool #4 (Marvel)

(via Comic Book Data Base)

writer: Cullen Bunn

artist: Salva Espin

I don't get Deadpool.  There, I said it.

I mean, I get Deadpool.  He's Marvel's officially sanctioned representative of irreverence.  If you want to read a comic that takes superheroes about as seriously as every other scene in The Avengers, then this is your guy.  He's been a cult star in the making for years.  He even showed up in X-Men Origins: Wolverine and was long rumored to have a spin-off of his own in the works.  

It never materialized.  

I'm going to argue that the reason was pretty clear: Deadpool means absolutely nothing except to comic book geeks, and he only means something to comic book geeks who apparently love a character who has no point except to be a complete lunatic.  In an X-Men context, he makes the least sense of all.  Tellingly, the last time the comics tried to make that happen was a long time ago, when he was inexplicably paired with Cable for years.

He would make much more sense in an Avengers context, especially one that, like a lot of recent Avengers comics, seems like it was written directly for fans of the movie.  I would read the Deadpool out of a Brian Michael Bendis Deadpool comic.  That's probably the only way I'd deliberately read a Deadpool comic.  This was, along with a number of other comics I've been writing about here recently, part of a grab bag.  I did not knowingly purchase a Deadpool comic.  Why would I?

This comic is a good reason to ask that question.  Even if I had read the three previous issues, I'm certain I still would not know the answer.  In the mind of Deadpool fans, the character is a legend.  There have been so many random Deadpool adventures in the past few years, you'd think Marvel thought so, too, but I would assume it's more a case of striking while the brand is hot.  Because once it cools, this guy will once again slip into obscurity.  Can't we just Howard the Duck him already?

Basically, like a lot of those other comics, Deadpool only exists in this story to play off other stories, because there's no story potential any writer has found yet in the character otherwise.  This is like the event book of all meaningless event books, Deadpool battling countless alternate versions of himself.  Countless Deadpools spouting countless versions of the same gibberish.

If it's supposed to be funny, I don't see the humor.

The writer is Cullen Bunn, who has for a few years now been one of the indy writers with the biggest buzz around him, thanks to his Oni series The Sixth Gun.  I haven't read it.  I never really found a compelling reason to, other than that there is constant buzz around it, and thus more work for Bunn elsewhere, like in this comic.  But if Deadpool Kills Deadpool is any indication, I don't think I've been missing anything.

Damian: Son of Batman #s 2-4 (DC)

(via CBDB)

writer/artist: Andy Kubert

Andy Kubert was the original artist for Grant Morrison's Batman run.  This means he was there at the beginning of the Damian saga.  It also apparently means that he seems to have considered his role a fairly significant one, important enough to try his hand at extending the character's legacy past his death last year in the pages of Morrison's Batman Incorporated.

This mini-series is a what-if that returns to the world of Batman #666, a future that saw Damian become Batman.  As readers became more familiar with the character, it was easy to see how different Damian would be in the role compared to his father, Bruce Wayne, and yet more similar than anyone else who has worn the cowl over the years, whether Dick Grayson or Terry McGinnis from that other future, Batman Beyond (soon to finally achieve continuity in The New 52: Futures End).  

In fact, the second issue presents a stark contrast between Damian and McGinnis, both of whom start their careers succeeding Wayne with the aged crimefighter observing them.  Where McGinnis always had Wayne's begrudging sanction, Damian most certainly doesn't.  It leads to a short-lived fight that causes Wayne to suffer a heart attack, which sidelines him for the remainder of the series.  

We witness Damian's conflicted emotions (which he struggles to admit to himself) as he consults a priest in a confessional.  It's implied that the priest is really Jim Gordon, one of Batman's oldest allies.  By the end of the issue, Damian has donned his distinctive variation of the classic Batman costume.

The third issue features Kubert's most creative conceit, Alfred (whom Damian always calls simply "Pennyworth") dying but transferring his consciousness to a cat.  It's something Morrison might have done himself (and in fact is reminiscent of his Happy!), and works well in the warped but intelligent psychology of the new Batman.

Gordon, or least the priest who appears to be him, pulls a classic Batman disappearing act on Damian, and that's one of the nice touches to the issue.

The fourth and final issue is all about Damian's confrontation with the Joker, who is not actually the original Joker, but like Damian a self-styled successor.  It's an appropriate way to conclude the series.  The way this substitute Joker's story ends is appropriate, too (which I won't spoil), just as the way Damian's does.  It's the way some fans no doubt wish he would have ended up in regular continuity.

As a series, it's not overall very similar to Morrison's Batman, or other DC comics in general.  Kubert's style is as full-throttled as Damian's, and at first this can be a little disconcerting, but really, that's exactly the way a Damian-as-Batman story should be.  If he lived long enough to enter that future, this is what he would become.  In a lot of ways, Damian was always what Jason Todd would have been like if he'd been Bruce Wayne's son.  The similarities between Jason's revised fate and what would have become of Damian are no mistake.  The thing is, this story could only have happened with Damian.  

Kubert is less concerned with the doubts Morrison and Peter Tomasi have featured in the bond between father and son.  It drains some of the emotion from the story, but it also means that there's more of a classic vigilante adventure to be found here than is usual for Damian.

If this is the only adventure Kubert gets to tell about this Batman, then that's fine.  Although it would certainly be nice to have more.  This is not a classic, but it's a fine memory to have been given with a classic character.

Cataclysm # 0.1 (Marvel)

(via CBDB)

writer: Joshua Hale Fialkov

artist: Mico Suayan, Mirco Pierfederici, Leonard Kirk

Marvel's Ultimate Comics line originally debuted in 2000.  The whole idea was to present readers with a soft reboot, an arena with which to rediscover old favorites from the beginning of their adventures.  In 2014, that idea looks a fair bit different, and a book like Cataclysm is hardly likely to improve matters.

The legacy of the Ultimate concept is considerable, but only in two aspects: it gave birth to the cinematic Avengers and Brian Michael Bendis is still writing Ultimate Spider-Man (as of a few years ago in his very own model, Miles Morales).  Other than that, the original idea gradually lost its point when it became clear it was generally unsustainable, that fans were never going to follow these comics the way they had and still do the original Marvel universe, and that creators given the option to make the Ultimate version of events more gritty sabotaged the entire line to the point where although the story continues it has not only lost all relevance but has also become just as impenetrable to new readers as, well, the original Marvel universe.  Probably moreso at this point.

Cataclysm, again, is a good (?) example of that.  It presents Galactus as a new threat to the Ultimate reality, even though there was already a years-long event with the Ultimate version of Galactus (which I believe was the basis for the much-maligned version in Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer).  Really, the only reason the Ultimate reality still exists at all is because of Ultimate Spider-Man.  And as soon as Bendis stops writing him (/them), this whole thing will end up like 2099 (although good news for Morales and Bendis, Spider-Man 2099 continues to be the only lingering element of that experiment).  It's just a bunch of nonsense at this point.

This is no real judgment on the creators.  Had Marvel limited the Ultimate reality to a few mini-series, the way it has recently turned to the "Season One" graphic novels to reintroduce origins to new readers, the way the first few Ultimates adventures that introduced the Samuel L. Jackson version of Nick Fury were released (the only real argument against this remains Bendis and his Ultimate Spider-Man, by the way; that run is directly responsible for his whole Marvel career) readers would have some nifty graphic novels to enjoy and maybe one or two definitive, iconic stories. 

The latest rube to write for the Ultimate experiment is Joshua Hale Fialkov, one of the many DC defectors who became upset with issues of creator rights.  Fialkov was another one who seemed to have such a bright future ahead of him, too, and now he's writing something like this.  Again, it's not so much the work itself but the concept that fails him.

The Ultimate version of the android Avenger known as Vision, which seems to be completely different from the regular version of the character, is in the spotlight, and Fialkov does a fine job writing from her perspective.  That much is perfectly fine.

But you have to question why yet another Ultimate crossover event/reboot is even happening.  Does Marvel really think any of this is still salvageable?  That the whole concept isn't straying further and further from the original point, all because someone realized a pocket universe can get away with things regular continuity can't, like killing off key characters like Peter Parker and Wolverine?  The only readers who will care at this point are those who were there at the start, or can still be convinced that this is a cool concept.

It was cool in 2000.  Now it's just old and tired.  And increasingly pointless.

Preview: Overrun

(all images via Forty Five)

writer: Andi Ewington, Matt Woodley

artist: Paul Green

available at: Midtown Comics

Description: Your computer is a living breathing city filled with jpegs, docs, mpegs and xls files.  But time is running out for these citizens, not only is there a citywide memory shortage but someone has released a deadly virus upon the unsuspecting population.  The world is about to be Overrun.

Creator Andi Ewington is someone I first discovered from his brilliant, unorthodox graphic novel Forty-Five, which takes the form of so many interviews with an entire world of superheroes.  He also ended up releasing BlueSpear, featuring a full, traditional-style story with one of the subjects from Forty-Five.  He's someone, consequently, I'm always eager to see additional material from.  I'd expected more from the world of Forty-Five, but his new project is entirely unrelated.  It is, however, equally fascinating, and has incorporated everything Ewington has learned so far, pushing it to a whole new level.

The basic premise is sort of like The Matrix if the Wachowskis had stayed inside the program rather than followed Neo out of it.  This is not to say that Overrun is a Matrix ripoff, but that it shares many of the same sources of inspiration, namely a fascination with the computer age and our sense of identity as well as individuality, and the constant threats to both.

Overrun is not the head trip The Matrix was.  It doesn't have philosophy so heavily on the mind.  It's pretty straightforward.  Ewington and Matt Woodley have crafted their world out of archetypes known from computer lore but also fashioned characters out of them, and seeing it in action is to instantly fall in love with it.

There are computer files, computer programs, and even computer games at play here.  The last image I included is Sarge, who is sort of like the Wreck-It Ralph of Overrun, though he's not the main hero (so far as the preview goes, anyway).  The main hero is what Neo would have been if Morpheus hadn't dragged him kicking and screaming into the real world, sort of if Thomas Anderson had met Neo instead of Morpheus.  It's not as confusing as it sounds.

The art from Paul Green is another strong suit.  It follows the twists and turns of the story just as well as the minimalist dialogue, and presents it vividly, which is clearly no Goth world like Neo's.  

Did I mention zombies?  Because there are zombies, too!  But Overrun is clever enough to not use them as one of the driving elements of the plot.  They don't even appear in the preview.

Speaking of which, this is indeed a preview of a preview.  The actual graphic novel doesn't have a distributor yet.  It really deserves one, based on the strength of this material.  It has plenty of selling points and features superior quality in every aspect.

I'm more than happy to see more from Ewington.  He's proven in the past he deserves to become well-known in the comics medium.  This is another strong testament to that.

I'm a fan of clever.  And Overrun is definitely clever.  The rest of 2014 will have a hard time competing with this as one of its highlights.

Digitally Speaking...#8 "Elric, Adam West, Worlds of Aspen"

FCBD 2011 Elric: Balance Lost (Boom!)
Elric is one of those quasi-classic characters floating around, who certainly has a considerable following, but mostly on the basis of how creator Michael Moorcock has lent him out over the years, to the point where the character sometimes seems to be ubiquitous.  The question is, does Elric even warrant this kind of treatment?

My judgment at this point is that the character is little better than C.J. Henderson's Lai Wan, who I first discovered in a short-lived Moonstone comics adaptation.  Henderson is an almost-entirely self-generated publishing figure, and Lai Wan is not even his major creation, nor has he ever written a book based completely around her.  The comic is based on a series of short stories.  I read the first issue on a whim, and found little merit in it, although Henderson is clearly devoted to his creation, viewing her in almost a mythic fashion, one that is not really warranted by the material.

The same can be said for Elric.  The only reason I know about Moorcock or Elric at all is because both periodically pop up on my radar, usually in association with each other but almost never with any definitive work between them.  Elric is just a character that has been relentlessly promoted over the years (originally created in 1961), and has appeared in a number of books and scores of adaptation revivals.

This comic is the latest.  I hope it's not representative of the overall Elric material, because it's pretty terrible.  I realize I don't write in the most traditional sense myself, but I think I can tell the difference between dialogue and declarative statements.  Every shred of dialogue in this comic is a declarative statement.  This is not storytelling.  To go by this comic, Elric doesn't have a story at all, but a general character description.

Another painful layer of the comic is that it's written by Chris Roberson, who at one point was one of DC's heirs apparent, until he and the company came to disagreement over the issue of creator rights, which was incredibly odd for a creator who hadn't really done anything at that point, and now writes characters who are all but in the public domain.  It's an especially poor reflection on his talents one way or another, and beggars the question of a major company even wanting to work with him again, regardless of his views.

FCBD 2011 Misadventures of Adam West #1 (Bluewater)
This comic, on the other hand, is another of those polar opposites I keep finding in my comiXology collection, featuring a character very much the cult variety of Elric, but whose complicated march to a 2011 Free Comic Book Day entry ends up looking very different.

That cult character is of course Adam West, who starred in Batman on TV from 1966-68 (including one theatrical release).  The actor never really did anything else, and seemed fairly fine with it, having once become an icon (which is sometimes, if rarely, good enough for actors), although he's had a tough time with the portrayal of his Caped Crusader on film ever since.  He campaigned to appear in Tim Burton's 1989 film, which would certainly have been a jarring inclusion in a famously Gothic production.  West's interpretation of the character has been reduced to being considered not just comic but campy, what's otherwise known as throwing a wink to the audience, letting everyone know that the material is not exactly being taken seriously.

This comic, however, casts a different light on the series.  What if West's version, if being a little silly, really was a legitimate take on the character, a more innocent perspective, family friendly in a way only cartoons have been in recent decades?  What if West's Batman, even if only his his own mind, is a more heroic version of the famous superhero?

One of the clever things the comic does is sort of mold West into a Georges Reeves figure, a martyr that emerged in the excellent film Hollywoodland, except it replaces Reeves' reluctance to be Superman with West's eagerness to continue the spirit of his Batman.

It's a classic Bluewater comic book, certainly, and I'm not saying this because I've got two Bluewater biographies under my belt (with a third hopefully on the way by the end of the year).  I've read basically a handful of Bluewater comics.  I don't go out of my way to read them.  One celebrity biography comic is basically like any other celebrity biography comic, and because the vast majority of the company's publishing schedule is made up of them, it's hard to gage what else it has to offer.  I first saw this as a goofy extension of those efforts, without having read it.  It's not even the only one of its kind.  But then, Bluewater comics have been adapted into major motion pictures (Wrath of the Titans).  Bluewater is basically one of the lower rung spinoffs from Image (where other Bluewater comics like The 10th Muse and Legend of Isis came from), and like pretty much any comic book company ever has latched onto known properties in order to establish its brand.

The approach to Misadventures, then, is pretty clever.  It uses the biography template to launch West's further exploits (he is not the writer, by the way).  I don't know if further issues have touched on the fact that West has very cleverly subverted his reputation on Family Guy over the years, or if that's even possible, given the conceit seems to switch to a magical youthful regeneration by the end of this debut, which would lead one to assume that perhaps further issues feature less melancholy and more '60s-style Batman adventures.

As for the whole cult of Adam West I originally referenced, there are of course now DC's own Batman '66 comics, plus the recent news that the '60s series is finally being released on DVD (even George Reeves didn't have to wait that long!), and West's own improbable continuing cultural relevance (via Family Guy), now offered in these comics themselves.

Was he actually on to something?  Very probable, indeed...

FCBD: Worlds of Aspen 2013 (Aspen)
Aspen is another Image spinoff, the baby of the late Michael Turner, responsible for some of the most gorgeous pinup comic book art of the past twenty years.  His legacy is also dominated by his style, however, despite the fact that he didn't just create a style but at least one long-lasting character (Fathom).  His is the lithe version of the Babe Comics otherwise known as the Bad Girl Comics, or in other words Turner was best known for drawing beautiful women with very little clothing on them.  The lead story in this sampler is a perfect example of why this needs to be reconsidered as the dominant form of his legacy.  There seems to be a pretty good story in there, but it's buried under the dominant images of the two lead women in bikinis.  The fact that they're in bikinis is not itself distracting, but the fact that the artist is trying his hardest to evoke Turner is.

And apparently Aspen publishes a lot of stuff that doesn't rely so heavily on the Turner template.  You'd hardly know it.  Both Bluewater and Aspen could use to not so heavily promote only one version of themselves, or they will always be marginalized in the community.  Aspen doesn't do itself many more favors by reducing the rest of the looks at its offerings to barely-anything, with the biggest example being a two-page spread with prose imposed on a single image, and prose not particularly well-displayed on it.

These are decisions that will need to be corrected.  Whereas a creator like Chris Roberson, having once taken a principled stand, seems incapable of doing himself any favors, and a guy like Adam West just sort of stumbles into them, Aspen might fall into an Elric fate, well-known but obscure (via a creator, whether it's Michael Moorcock or Michael Turner), or it could move on to something greater.

The decisions are entirely in the air.  The subjects of this particular Digitally Speaking... are all in transition.  Their fates could be great, or they could sink into obscurity the more history has its say on them.