Farewell, Dear Friends. Farewell.

Comic books have been a part of my life for nearly 25 years, and though there have certainly been seasons during which I have been forced temporarily to lay them aside, those seasons have been rare and brief, and I’ve always found a way to get them back in short order.  Over the last couple of weeks, I have been forced to take a hard look at my life and my priorities, and after a close (and at times, emotionally trying) evalution, I have decided to suspend my pursuit of this beloved hobby.  

How did it come to this, you might ask?  For the answer to that, I will direct you to the following story.

About a week and a half ago, a comic book website was searching for new writers, and I expressed my interest in the position.  It was a volunteer opportunity, but I had always wanted to write about comics in a forum from which I might have the opportunity to talk to–perhaps, even meet–some of the creators whose work I enjoyed so much.  The email conversations with the EIC and CEO were wonderful, and about a week after I submitted a writing sample to them, they invited me to join the team.  I was elated, and honored to have a chance to write for the site.  I chose the pseudonym under which I would publish, the publisher team to which I wanted to belong, and began preparations for assignments.

But then, reality hit.  I began to think about the fact that I have a son on the way, who is due to arrive on or before February 24–and, by extension, the necessary medical expenses that we will incur as a part of the deal.  I remembered that my wife and I had planned to enroll our daughter in our church preschool at some point this year, and the expense that would add to an already strained budget. Looking at the numbers, my wife said that we couldn’t afford the latter, and that we would probably have to ask for money for my daughter’s birthday so that we could afford it. And that’s when it hit me: I was spending around $40 a month on comics (plus the gas to drive back and forth to the shop once a week), and (in part) because of that, my daughter couldn’t go to preschool. 

I have two goals in life: to be the best follower of Jesus I can be, and to be the best husband and Daddy possible. I would be failing in both if I robbed my daughter of a chance to grow and develop so I could continue pursuing a hobby. I realized then and there that comics would have to go.

Well, obviously–if I’m not buying comics, I can’t write about comics.  So, only one day after receiving all my credentials, I messaged the CEO and EIC of the site, apologized, and explained my decision. The conversation was great, and I greatly appreciated the mercy and grace they extended to me in allowing me to step away.  

I won’t lie: this has been a harder decision than I thought it would be.  I had just written a review of Captain Atom #5 for the site that will likely never be published (and I spent three hours doing it). I never even got to see my pseudonym “up in lights,” as it were (though that shouldn’t really matter, anyway).  But the hardest part for me is walking away from something that has brought me joy–and no small measure of escape–over the last 23 years.  My wife has graciously suggested that I buy just a couple of digital titles, and indeed, I may be able to accomodate a small purchase in my budget.

It won’t be the same.  And yet, though the decision has been difficult, I do not regret it; I would give up far more than this for my God and my family.  So, friends, I bid you “adieu,” as this will be the final post on this blog.  I will leave it active for only a while longer, and then I will close its doors for good. I have enjoyed reading comics and talking about them with you.  Thanks so much for taking the time to read the opinions of this nobody from nowhere; the time you spent reading and conversing with me means more than you will ever know.

Thanks again, and keep reading, true believers.

Why Tim Drake Matters

The year was 1989, and I was an awkward 11-year old boy sorely in need of a hobby.  I was reared by wonderful parents in a small town–the kind of place where mundane was a way of life, but where amazing things seldom occurred outside of one’s dreams.  I was something of a “dabbler” when it came to my pastimes:  I had “dabbled” with piano lessons (though I don’t remember attending a single lesson), dabbled with little league baseball, and even spent some time in week-long workshop with a magician at our local library, all in the hope of finding something to tickle my fancy, something to ignite the fires of my imagination and give me something on which to pour all of my pent-up, pre-adolescent energy.  At that point, outside of devouring novels like Goldfish crackers, I had found nothing to fit the bill.

And then, it happened–summer, 1989.  The Year of the  Bat. Tim Burton’s twisted interpretation of Batman gripped me like nothing had ever done before, and after multiple viewings, I finally decided that I had found precisely that for which I was looking.  I purchased my first comic book from Waldenbooks (Detective Comics #605, a copy of which resides in my safe at home), and settled in to my new favorite pastime.

 Around that same time, I purchased another comic book, the cover of which featured a grown man staring pensively at a costume bedecked in bright yellow, red, and green–the unmistakeable pallette of Robin, the Boy Wonder.  Above this man were the grim silhouettes of Batman and a rather lizard-like gentleman (whose moniker, I would later learn, was “Two-Face”).  Tucked away in the right corner of this cover was a young boy, clothed in a leather jacket and faded blue jeans, looking at the man and the Robin suit with mouth agape and eyes filled with innocence and wonder.  

The boy’s name was Tim Drake.  And though I did not yet realize it, he would make an indelible mark on my life that remains to this day.

If Batman was the character that got me interested in comics, Tim Drake was responsible for keeping me there.  The story of his transformation from curious young boy to potential Boy Wonder found me at a time in my life when my boyish dreams of greatness still hung ripe on the vine, ready to be plucked and consumed.  The idea that a young person–someone near my own age!– could aspire to become a hero and succeed in that endeavor was infectious to me.  I couldn’t get it out of my head.  I knew that Batman had lost a Robin before Tim, knew that Batman claimed not to want or need the assistance of anyone, and though I understood the power of the lone Dark Knight’s image, I couldn’t help but agree with young Tim as he pled his case to his hero:

“Batman needs Robin. No matter what he thinks he wants.”

I followed his story carefully over the next months and years, waiting with baited breath as issue after issue passed with little to no mention of Tim.  He had become a figurehead for me, a character that resonated with me like no other had before, and the anticipation of seeing Tim suit up and fight crime alongside of Batman was palpable whenever a new issue would hit the stands.  And when it finally happened–when Tim donned the red, green, yellow, and black in all of its Breyfoglesque glory–I was elated.  Batman and Robin were together again.  

See, Tim Drake has always been my Robin.  I read as he took his first steps into this brave, new world.  I followed him as he traveled to Europe for training with Lady Shiva, as he faced the Joker for the first time, as he came into his own and starred in his long-running solo title, as he succumbed to a deadly virus in the Contagion crossover, and gradually assumed more responsibilty and earned more respect within the Bat-family.  I rejoiced when he assumed leadership over the Teen Titans, and grieved when his father was murdered.  And when Damian Wayne was handed the suit in the aftermath of Bruce Wayne’s “death” forcing Tim to assume the mantle of Red Robin, I too felt betrayed.  

But when the New 52 initiative was announced–with no mention of a solo book featuring Tim Drake–I really began to worry that he was going to be marginalized in this new universe.  Yes, he was given a starring role in Teen Titans, but now that five months have passed since the relaunch, it’s safe to say that there’s been barely a hint of Tim’s relationship with the rest of the Bat-family in either Titans or the Bat-books.  It doesn’t feel right to me, not at all, and his exclusion (temporary or not) from the narratives that spawned him gives one the impression that Tim Drake just doesn’t matter.

But he does matter. He matters to me, and to countless other fans who never knew Dick Grayson or Jason Todd as the Boy Wonder.  He matters to those of us who, in our prepubescent awkwardness, found in Tim Drake the courage to believe ourselves capable of more than we could ever have imagined.  Tim Drake represents the hope of every young boy and girl whose dreams are cruelly tread upon by the harsh realities of life–the hope that with a lot of work and a little luck, they too might be able to rise from the muck and become larger than life, a hero whose exploits will be praised and sung for ages to come. 

I know Tim Drake does matter to the powers that be at DC Comics.  I appreciate what Scott Lobdell and Brett Booth are doing with him in Teen Titans, and I appreciate DC for trying new things with different characters.  But I still hold out hope that one day in the not too distant future, Tim Drake will be free spread his wings and fly in his own solo title once again, and that he will rejoin his Bat-family brothers and sisters in Gotham.  It’s where he really belongs, after all.

Poor Man’s Review X 2: An X-Men Doubleshot

Uncanny X-Men #1 (Written by Kieron Gillen; Art by Carlos Pacheco)

The Lowdown: I didn’t read Schism, which is apparently pretty important.  I did read enough to know that Cyclops and Wolverine had a philosophical falling-out, and each departed to do their own thing with their own teams.  Uncanny X-Men follows the adventure of Cyclops and his “Extinction Team” (I don’t know why it’s called that) as they attempt to continue their mission of saving (and scaring) the world.  There are a lot of other teams under Cyclops’ umbrella, but this one seems to be the A-team of sorts.  Much of the issue is focused on introducing us to the team members and allowing us to see them in action against a big bad named Mr. Sinister, whose presence might resonate with long-time X-Men fans, but for me, just left me scratching my head a bit.

The Good:  Well, there’s a lot, actually, but I promised to keep it brief.  I’m intrigued by Cyclops’ strategy here, and I think the team he’s built is perfect for the “Scare ‘em and save ‘em” mission statement he has going on.  The action sequences are solid, and the premise of having several smaller teams executing various tasks in concert with one another is quite fascinating.  The opening sequence with Sinister was chilling, and much stronger (in my opinion) than the final sequences of the book, which just left me scratching my head.  The art is gorgeous throughout.

The Bad: I still don’t really know who half these people are.  No, I haven’t been following the X-Men since dinosaurs roamed the Earth. I am a new reader, and from a new reader perspective, this book left some things to be desired.  I don’t understand the villain or his motives.  I don’t get the final page (and I might, had I some experience with these characters outside of the movies). And where did the big robot come from? 

Overall: I enjoyed the book, even if it puzzled me a bit. Not nearly as new reader friendly as most of DC’s New 52, but a promising start, nonetheless.  I just wasn’t blown away.

Wolverine and the X-Men #1 (Written by Jason Aaron; Art by Chris Bachalo)

The Lowdown: Wolverine opens a school that’s also a training center and a deathtrap.  He wears a suit and gives a tour to a couple of shirts who hold the future of the school in their prejudiced, stingy little claws.  Hilarity ensues.

The Good: The concept is interesting, I’ll say that for sure.  The idea of Wolverine as the headmaster of a school is an intentionally laugable one, and Aaron wisely plays it as such in this book.  This, too, is an interesting cast, and one that promises a great deal of fun and drama in future installments.  Aaron’s dialogue is fun. Mostly.

The Bad: I didn’t love the art.  At all, really.  And the pace of the book was too slow for me; I actually fell asleep in the middle of it, which (I’m certain) was not the intent of the creative team. The problem for me is that while I understood that the concept was being played for laughs, I didn’t really find it that funny. Mostly, it came across as a bit self-indulgent, and it just turned me off a bit on the whole premise.

Overall: Well, people seemed to love it, but it wasn’t for me. It took two readings for me just to finish the thing. Needless to say, I wasn’t really impressed with this corner of the X-verse.

DECISION TIME: As I’ve already stated, I was not really invested in the the X-verse before these latest #1s; I purchased these books, thinking that they might be a good way to gain entrance into a world that has previously been a bit unaccessible to me.  Though I was entertained by Uncanny X-Men #1, I was ultimately unpersuaded to pursue it further than one issue.  I wish both creative teams well, but for now, I’ll stick with my monthly DC books.

Poor Man’s Review: Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #3

Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #3 (Written by Jeff Lemire; Art by Alberto Ponticelli)

The Lowdown: Picking up where issue 2 left off, Frank and the boys (and girls) find themselves overrun by spider-beasts on Monster Planet.  It’s scary business–enough to make anyone cry for their Mommy.  In this case, though, they have a Mummy instead, and he’s hardcore enough to eliminate an entire continent of spider monsters all by his lonesome. Then, he takes a nap, while the merry band of Creature Commandos soon learn that there’s more to Monster Planet than they originally imagined.  The planet is coming for dinner. On the menu? Earth.

The Good: Seriously? Did you read the description? I defy you to find another series in DC’s catalog even remotely close to this one in the “What the heck is going on?” department.  This story is like a mixture of old-school Saturday morning cartoons, video games, and B-movie science fiction madness, all swirled together into a sweet, goopy confection.  It’s a little campy, but the camp makes it fun–I smiled throughout the book as one crazy concept took the place of another.  The image of Frankenstein swinging a sword and speaking in–how should I say this–high, fantasy-movie English as he takes out a toothy monstrosity is priceless, and it’s not even the only scene like it in the book.  The concept is just so different from anything else out there that I can’t help but want to tune it to see what Lemire does next with this crew, and I must say that, once again, Jeff Lemire is writing the heck out of this story.  It really is a blast to read.

The Bad: Up until now, I’ve been singing the praises of the entire creative team, and I still think they’re strong, but…Ponticelli’s style is beginning to wear on me just a bit.  At first, it was like, “Wow! This looks totally different from anything else I’m reading! How creative!” but now it feels more like, “Wow. This looks totally different from anything else I’m reading.” I’m just slightly less enthusiastic than I was, though I still think Ponticelli’s style suits the book.  I’m just not as excited about the art as I was before. Also, there are a lot of characters on the page here, and three issues in, we still haven’t fleshed any of them out yet.  Yes, it’s only been three issues, but when one compares this book to Animal Man (which isn’t fair, I know), so much more has been done in terms of character on the latter than the former.  It’s not a deal breaker, but I am hoping for some more development on this front sooner, rather than later.

Overall: Another solid issue by Lemire and Ponticelli, even if it wasn’t a massive step forward.  I’m enjoying the series, and I eagerly anticipate the next chapter.  If you’re in the market for something off the beaten path, give this one a read and scratch your head along with me.  7.0/10 stars. 

Poor Man’s Review: Swamp Thing #3

Swamp Thing #3 (Written by Scott Snyder; Art by Yanick Paquette and Victor Ibanez)

The Lowdown: In a hospital somewhere lush and green, a boy with a deadly allergy to chlorophyll lives out his meager existence inside of a protective plastic shell, while a friendly(?) doctor attempts to bring him some semblance of a normal life.  ”Get out there, make friends,” he’s told, while those who would be his friends are plotting to kill him. But that’s ok…the dead fish trophies on the wall are calling him by name, so that means that everything’s gonna be ok, right?  Meanwhile, the white-haired chick from last year now has Alec Holland in a swamp at the end of a gun, threatening to kill him unless he does something.  Oh, he does something, all right, the result of which is a necessary piece of narration that sets up the massive epic that is to come. Back and forth we go, between the bubble boy and the swamp people, until the story culminates in one of the creepiest sequences I’ve seen in comics for some time.

The Good: Are you kidding? Everything about this book is grade “A.”  Snyder’s tale of a relunctant hero who can’t seem to escape his destiny becomes more captivating with each issue.  When I first started reviewing this book, I said that Snyder was the master of long-form storytelling. That may be true, but I don’t think this book is an example of the latter.  It’s more–much more–than that; Snyder is crafting a true epic in this book, and though I believe that he has a long and glorious future in comics, Swamp Thing may indeed prove to be his magnum opus (yes, it’s too early to make such a call. And no, I don’t care), much like The Dark Tower or The Stand were for Stephen King.

And speaking of The Stand…is anyone else picking up Stand-esque vibes from this book?  There’s a plague (of sorts), doctors in a lab with a patient encased in a bubble, a “breakout” in the lab, the delivery of a spooky and unorthodox “summons” for William, who is called out to the desert and becomes a “Walking Dude” by the end of the issue.  There’s even an Abigail, though she’s neither African American nor over a century old, and I’m still not sure which side she’s on.  Oh, and there’s the whole “good vs. evil” bit, but you knew that already.  Please don’t misunderstand; I’m NOT suggesting that Scott Snyder is apeing Stephen King.  Quite the opposite, in fact; I believe that Scott Snyder is telling a unique story that is and will continue to set the standard for comics in this genre.  But there are some similar ingredients, and that’s a GOOD thing.

Also?  The art in this book is incredible, and is so much a part of the story that it would be difficult to imagine anyone but Yanick Paquette–and now, perhaps, Victor Ibanez–drawing it.  The dialogue in the book–especially the hospital scenes–has an inherent creepiness to it, but that creepiness is maginified a hundredfold when one factors in Ibanez’s art. Nothing scares me more than evil children, and I think it’s because children are supposed to be innocent, kind, and sweet. The children in this book are anything but, and Ibanez draws evil, creepy children like nobody’s business.  Paquette and Ibanez have similar styles, so the change-up wasn’t jarring, except in the layouts for the book; Paquette’s layouts have just been so amazingly eye-catching, and though Ibanez did a fine job with his layouts, they weren’t quite as captivating as those produced by Paquette.  Still…amazing job on the art. 

The Bad: Swamp Thing is not a weekly comic.  Seriously. That’s all I’ve got.

Overall:  I started reading comic books over twenty years ago, and though I love comics,  I don’t have a lot of money, and my shop is 30 miles away, so leaving the hobby behind might make sense. Swamp Thing–and books like it, though they are rare–are what keep me making the trek week after week.  Thank you all for a fantastic story.  10/10 stars. My first perfect score, and definitely my Pick of the Week.

Poor Man’s Review: Teen Titans #2

Teen Titans #2 (Written by Scott Lobdell; Art by Brett Booth and Norm Rapmund)

Saying “relaunch” to Scott Lobdell and Brett Booth must have been like waving bacon in front of a hungry bulldog, because they have taken the concept of a teenaged superhero team, thrown in some reboot goodness, and stirred until well-blended.  What has emerged as a result is something radically different than what other creative teams have imagined for this concept in the past.  The first issue provided a neatly packaged backdrop for the series, and some lovely art to boot.  Does the second issue continue the trend?  Read on to find out.

Woo Hoo! I continue to enjoy the way that Scott Lobdell writes Tim Drake in this book, and that’s important for me, because the book’s longevity on my pull list will be almost wholly determined by how long Tim Drake is featured, and how well he is written. So far, I’m pleased to say that Lobdell is two for two. In some ways, Tim is a typical adolescent boy (seen best in his inner dialogue about Cassie); in others, he is mature beyond his years.  He can be honest and to-the-point, but also finds the time for small gestures of compassion and comfort (as he did when he held the hand of an upset Claudia).  I like this Tim, and his characterization provides one of the strongest pieces of the book. I also think that Lobdell advances the plot along at a reasonable pace, highlighting the N.O.W.H.E.R.E. menace while slowly but surely assembling the team.  The latter is not as smooth as i thought it would be, but I actually like what Lobdell is doing better.  Brett Booth continues to impress me with his art; I find his character renderings to be quite detailed and pleasing to behold, but what really got my attention in this issue was the detail in the background.  Clearly, Booth loves what he does, and it shows in the level of effort he’s putting forth in these pages.

Boo Hoo! As much as I enjoy this book, I have to confess that the second issue, for me, wasn’t as strong as the first.  There were a few things in the book that struck me as odd.  For example, some of the dialogue was just…awkward, in places.  Tim Drake calling the “I/We” guy a “mook?” What teenager says that?  I work with adolescents, and have for the last thirteen years and in two different states, and I’ve never heard even one of them say the word “mook.”  Cassie Sandsmark uses the word “outtie,” which worked for Alicia Silverstone in “Clueless”–in 1995.  Sixteen years later, it just sounds strange. These are small hiccups, but they were enough to pull me out of the story, if only briefly.  And Kid Flash’s opening inner monologue just didn’t work for me.  Also–and I feel I must say this–all of the characters so far (with the possible exceptions of Tim Drake and Skitter) seem to fit within the “teenager-as-arrogant-rebellious-self-centered-jerk” stereotype, to one degree or another. Again (and I’m just speaking from my experience here), not all teenagers are of this stripe. I have teenagers with whom I work who, if they were blessed with abilities like this, would be absolutely terrified and unsure about how to use them. I know others who (I believe) would simply begin helping people without any desire to be recognized or honored for it. Not all teenagers are as brash as they are being portrayed here. Not a big deal, and not enough to pull me out of the book, but just something to note.

Overall: Weaker than issue #1, but still a pretty strong effort, and I’m really enjoying the Superboy tie-in.  I really hope the latter makes his move soon; Lobdell is doing a good job teasing us, but I want to see the Titans in action sooner, rather than later.  7.0/10 stars.  Looking forward to issue #3.

Poor Man’s Review: Aquaman #2

Aquaman #2 (Written by Geoff Johns; Art by Ivan Reis and Joe Prado)

Issue #1 of this book was nothing short of miraculous, in my opinion.  In 21 short pages, Johns and Reis managed to take a character who is most often identified as a punch line among DC’s pantheon of heroes and gave him a bona fide place among the A-listers.  It’s not an easy feat to accomplish, and even more difficult to repeat.  Did Johns and Reis achieve the impossible with issue #2?  Let’s have a look.

Woo Hoo! The book opens only seconds after the conclusion of issue #1, which provides a strong sense of continuity between the issues.  Johns had a choice here; he could have merely shown us the aftermath of the attack, leaving the nature and abilities of the Trench as fodder for a later reveal. Instead, Johns gives us a ringside seat to the on-board buffet, and in so doing, generates a genuine cloud of fear and trepidation around this new threat.  The juxtaposition of the violence in the first couple of pages with the domestic serenity of Aquaman and Mera in the lighthouse is also a nice touch, and provides a neat transition into the main body of the book, which is essentially a dockside battle between Aquaman and the Trench. Johns knows how to pace a story well, and he introduces several elements here that I can’t wait to explore later: the mystery man in the photo, the origins of the Trench, the true nature and extent of Aquaman’s telepathic capabailities, etc. The writing throughout is snappy, and the characterization is strong.  Johns writes both Aquaman and Mera very well, but clearly has an affinity for the latter; Mera’s scenes are among the strongest in the issue, and one almost wonders if she isn’t really Aquaman’s greatest superpower.  In addition, Ivan Reis’ artwork is brilliant; it’s hard to imagine anyone else at the artistic helm of this book, as his rendering of Aquaman is simply the best I’ve ever seen.  Credit should be given where credit is due, though, so while Ivan Reis’ art is amazing, Joe Prado’s inks and Rod Reis’ colors really make the book pop.  There aren’t many pages in this book that wouldn’t look great as a poster on a wall, so props to the art team for turning out their best.

Boo Hoo! One of the problems I have with some of the books I’m reading is that I don’t feel as though I’m getting as much story as I should for the money I’m paying. Unfortunately, that’s the case here: the story we have is great, but it’s far too brief and can be read way too quickly for my taste.  I prefer a more wordy book (though not as wordy as Superman #1), because a wordy book forces me to slow down and savor the story I’m reading.  Here, there are four and five-panel pages that have nearly as many small word balloons on them.  It’s too sparse for my taste. Yes, Reis’ art is gorgeous, and I don’t need too many panels cluttering up his brilliance, but I needed more than I had in this issue.  Also, Johns continues to riff on the whole “Aquaman is a joke” thing, but to a lesser degree than in issue #1.  I thought it worked in the first issue, as a creative way to introduce the character to a new audience.  I don’t want to see it continue ad infinitum, so as long as Johns keeps it to a minimum, I can deal.  It’s not ideal, though.

Overall…Still one of the brightest spots in the DCnU.  I give this issue a 8.5/10.  Aquaman is awesome.

Poor Man’s Review: Blue Beetle #2

Blue Beetle #2 (Written by Tony Bedard; Art by Ig Guara and Ruy Jose)

Huh.  If you read my review of Blue Beetle #1, you will probably remember that I was less than impressed with it; I felt that the decision to have the titular character appear only in the final panel of the book was a poor one, and that the story just wasn’t strong enough to merit a second look, despite having some fairly solid art by Ig Guara.  Upon reading my review, one of my readers implored me to take a second look and to give the book another chance, and after reading through the issue again, I did feel that it was stronger than I had originally thought–but I still wasn’t really interested in reading a second issue.  I did agree to give it a second chance, though, so it was with some trepidation that I purchased my copy at my LCS this week.  And the verdict?

Well, that’s a little more complicated.

I will say this:  issue #2 is MUCH stronger than issue #1, primarily because we actually got to see Blue Beetle in action, and the latter wasn’t quite what I thought it would be (but in a good way).  Clearly, the scarab has an intelligence and a deadly mission all its own (this we knew from the first issue), but here, we get a glimpse of how the scarab works when bonded to a host, and I must say–it’s pretty kickin’. Freaky, even.  The dialogue between Jaime and the scarab demonstrates the conflict between the former’s more sensitive disposition and the latter’s unilateral commitment to its cause, but the physical interaction between the two–and the questions it raises–are where the real beauty of this issue lies.  How much control does the scarab have over Jaime’s actions?  How difficult is it for Jaime to override the scarab’s prime directive?  Does the suit change Jaime’s voice when he talks–and if not, how is it that people don’t recognize him?  If the scarab can force Jaime to vomit, what else can it do?  It’s really neat stuff, and different from other things I’m seeing in the DCnU.  This, to me, is the central attraction of the book, and Bedard does write the interactions between Jaime and the scarab well.

I’m less taken with the whole “La Dama as villian” angle, but perhaps that’s because we don’t really know a lot about these characters yet.  I had hoped that Bedard would give a little more of a hook for this storyline than he did, but it was not to be.  Fortunately, the whole Hivemasters plot has become quite intriguing, and though the La Dama storyline is a bit of a snoozer for now, I can’t wait to see what happens with Khaji-Kai, Lu-Kreeza, and the whole Hivemaster clan.

Ig Guara’s art shines once again in this book, primarily in the panels with Jaime in the suit.  He draws an absolutely sick and alien Blue Beetle, even down to the Sith-esque eyes that, quite frankly, creep me out a bit.  The action sequences are well drawn, and Guara captures movement quite well.  Unfortunately, though, I still find his rendering of human characters less than convincing, and at times, the facial expressions are so exaggerated that they distract from the otherwise solid art.

Issue #2 represents what I would like to have seen more of in issue #1.  It’s still not quite what I want it to be, and I’m still not completely hooked, but I can say firmly that I’m in for the first arc of this book, for sure. That’s more than I was willing to say before, so Bedard and Guara, FTW.

7.0/10 stars. I had fun with this issue, and I look forward to the next.

Poor Man’s Review: Captain Atom #2

Captain Atom #2 (Written by J.T. Krul; Art by Freddie Williams II)

Short Spolilery Summary:  In the aftermath of issue #1, Captain Atom pulls himself together (heh) just in time to experience yet another side effect of the accident that created him.  After returning to home base and being stablized, Captain Atom learns how better to control his powers, and uses them to good effect in the life of a little boy. Meanwhile, a mysterious creature continues to prowl the alleys…

J.T. Krul continues to impress me with his approach to this series, as he continues to build on the theme of Captain Atom’s increasing power levels and their potential to isolate him from the rest of humanity.  He does this by introducing yet another unforeseen side effect of the accident that created Captain Atom, and using it simultaneously as an opportunity to give us a bit more insight into who Nathaniel Adam was prior to his transformation, AND as a test, not only of Captain Atom’s capacity for controlling his powers, but of his ability to stay connected to his humanity, even as his power level increases exponentially.

This dilemma is present from the very beginning of the book, where a very human reporter casts some very human doubts about Captain Atom: Is he really a hero?  Did he save the people of New York from an unfortunate (but random) occurence, or did he cause the catastrophe? And perhaps, most poignantly, “What is he hiding?” These thoughts are echoed in various pieces of the communication field that overwhelms Atom, and the gist of all of it is this: humanity greets their hero with a mixture of hope, fear, uncertainty, and no small degree of mistrust, because they don’t really know what he is or what he’s capable of.  And still his power grows, as human character after human character (conciously or no) voices their belief that Captain Atom is something other than a human being. By the time Krul leads readers to the (gorgeous) full page rendering of Captain Atom flying away in a swirling cloud of color and data, it’s difficult to disagree with the human characters in the book.  

But the masterstroke comes in the latter piece of the book, when Captain Atom makes a very human choice to use his abilities, not to end war or to stop the onslaught of another natural disaster, but to save the life of one little boy who is dying from cancer. It’s a beautiful moment–one of many that J.T. Krul gives readers in this book.  I found the writing to be extremely compelling throughout, and I am really enjoying the more philosophical aspects of Krul’s story.

Freddie Williams II absolutely brings it in this issue, and produces some of the most beautiful work I’ve ever seen from his pen.  The subtlety with which Williams captures Captain Atom’s emotions is inspired, and though the scenes with Captain Atom inside the little boy’s brain are occaisonally difficult to decipher, even those moments capitalize on the strangeness of the environment.  I loved the art in this issue, and if I could afford to commission Mr. Williams to draw and sign an original copy of the flashback scene (with Captain Atom’s first official appearance), I would so do it.  Gorgeous, gorgeous stuff.

Is the book perfect? No, of course not. There are a few threads left dangling (such as the alley-beast that has shown up now in both issues, but without a lot of explanation as to what it is), as well as some inconsistencies (Captain Atom hates biology, but knows how to distinguish a cancer cell from a healthy one AND how specifically to target those cells and destroy them without doing damage to other parts of the brain?).  But those few faults are minor, really, and do not detract from the beauty of the story at all.

I’m gushing now, I guess, but that’s ok. This book is at the top of my reading list. I read it before I read Batman, and anyone who knows what a huge Batman fan I am can attest to how big a deal that really is. I am thankful to Mr. Krul and Mr. Williams for the amount of love they are putting into this book. Absolutely one of my favorites.

8.0 out of 10 stars. Keep up the good work.

 

Surprise Poor Man’s Review: Batgirl #2

Batgirl #2 (Written by Gail Simone; Art by Ardian Syaf)

So, this may come as a surprise if you’ve read any of my earlier blog posts, primarily because I had taken this book off of my pull list due to a limited comic book budget. This was one of the harder decisions I had to make, especially after reading the stellar first issue, but in the end, it’s all about the Alexanders (Hamilton, the dude on the $10 bill.  And I know the expression is “all about the Benjamins”, but that implies having more than one Benjamin. I don’t). I had every intention of dropping this book to save coin, but when I stepped into my LCS last week and realized that I had driven 30 miles for two books, I decided to take the plunge and pick up just one more issue.

Now I’m torn between this book and one of my meals each week.  Yes, it’s THAT good.

Gail Simone is telling a wonderful story about a young woman who, in the wake of a tragedy in her life, is still trying to do the right thing, still fighting the good fight, despite all of the hardship she has endured.  To some extent, it’s a familiar story; but what I love about Simone’s approach is that she doesn’t try to sweep the tragedy under the rug, nor does she use it as a primary motivation for what she does. Instead, Simone treads the delicate ground between maudlin sentimentality and careless disregard by locating her Barbara Gordon firmly in the context of her circumstances.  That is, she is a woman who has suffered, has experienced a miraculous physical recovery, but is not yet fully recovered. She did not step from the wheelchair onto the rooftops, and she is not unscarred by her ordeal.  I love the fact that Batgirl’s inner dialogue gives voice to the doubts and insecurities she feels, both about the adequacy of her physical training AND her emotional readiness to be back in action.  Simone’s Batgirl is a very human character, and thus, very relateable–moreso, I dare say, than anyone else in the Batman corner of the DCnU.  

Simone’s genius also shows in the creation of Batgirl’s first villian, the sinister Mirror. The moniker is appropos, because Mirror (in some ways) is a reflection of Barbara herself, and like a reflection, the mirror image is not quite the same as the person it reflects.  Here, both Barbara and Mirror have endured tragedy, but Barbara has found a way to move past it, to use the lessons she has learned to better herself. Mirror still lives within the tragedy he (?) has experienced and, unable to move on, uses the lessons he has learned to punish all those who receive the miracle that he did not. It’s a brilliant juxtaposition, and one that constantly serves to remind Barbara not only of her own weaknesses, but of who she could have been had things turned out differently.  Her nemesis, then, is a threat to her both physically and emotionally. It’s really quite compelling.

Ardian Syaf draws a beautiful book, and his style perfectly complements the tale Simone is telling here.  There are places that are weaker than others, but on the whole, it’s a solid book artistically.  I have no complaints about the work Syaf is doing here, and I hope to see more from this team in the future.

8.5 out of 10, and my pick of the week.  I may have to change my menu to make room for this one.