Eedie Beedie Beedie...Welcome Back, Buck.

This week, Dynamite released the zero issue of their Buck Rogers relaunch, for the low low price of a quarter. In all honesty, I don’t expect a lot for that kinda money, but this wasn’t too bad at all. Granted, my knowledge of the character extends to my mostly-fuzzy memories of the Gil Gerard TV incarnation, and this book features neither Twiki or Linda Grey in a form-fitting white outfit (which is really too bad, 'cause...damn.). However, it does feature a  fairly sharp little SF adventure that, even though it’s the zero issue, is sort of the last Buck Rogers adventure—intriguing!—and a dope cover by John Cassaday. Seems that Earth in the 25th Century, which is safeguarded by the titular modern-day, time-tossed astronaut—is under assault by disgusting paramecium invaders from Ganymede, and Buck has to maybe make the Ultimate Sacrifice to repel them, while his grown-up kids (I guess?) watch helplessly from Earth. It’s written by Scott Beatty (Batgirl: Year One) and features attractive art by Carlos Rafael, but I had a few issues…namely, Buck is drawn way too young to have spawned the full-grown kids featured in this story. Or they’re drawn way too old, take your pick. Maybe there’s even more time travel shenanigans afoot that will be revealed in the ongoing series? Either way, it’s not a bad read otherwise, and given the way this issue ends, it’s an intriguing way to kick off a relaunch. Can I also say that I’m totally on board with this new design for the character, provided by Alex Ross, and, for some reason, I am head-over-heels in love with the book’s logo. I can’t put my finger on it, but it kind of rules.

What else? Amazing Spider-Man began a new arc this week, 24/7, that sees Spidey dealing with the consequences of his accidentally being gone for several months in another dimension. For instance, J. Jonah Jameson is the new mayor of New York City, so Peter Parker decides to become Spider-Man full time, the better to bedevil him. Also, a classic Spidey villain appears in a creepy new incarnation, and…I’m not gonna spoil the last page, but my eyebrows almost left the top of my head. Let’s just say it’s something that neither us nor Peter ever wanted to see in our lifetimes. Anyway, point being, Mark Waid’s Spider-Man scripts have so far shown that he has an almost supernaturally precise knowledge of what needs to  be in a good Web-head yarn—the proper mix of action, soap opera, and lots of humour. Waid’s collaborator here is Mike McKone, who draws an awesomely acrobatic Wall-crawler, and the colours by Jeromy Cox top the whole thing off nicely.

Now that One More Day is well in the past, can I just say how great it is that Amazing Spider-Man is a book I want to read again? It was always my childhood fave, especially the Marvel Tales reprints of the great Ross Andru stuff from the 70s. However, when they rolled back the clock and started doing reprints of the early years, that was fine by me as well. I sure do love me some Lee/Ditko Spidey—almost as much as I love the idea of giving your wife of many years a signed photograph of yourself:

“Hmmm, maybe she’d like some flowers, or dinner at a fancy restaurant…wait! I’ve got it!” Anyway, I got off track there, but my point is, I will always have a soft spot for Spidey done right—and this is Spidey done right.

Finally, Image released Viking #1 by Ivan Brandon and Nic Klein this week, a book that actually sold out several weeks ago. That is to say, orders were so high that every copy being printed was already spoken for by retailers. This is cool because, not only is Viking a nicely gritty new series that sees warring clans of Norsemen chopping each other to bits, but its artist, Nic Klein, used to be a longtime customer of  Cal’s (dating back to the early days of the Fredericton store!) before moving to Germany. You’ve likely seen his work on some Marvel covers recently, like New Warriors, but he announces himself in a big way with this series. This is terrific stuff, but don’t take my word for it:

Man, how is that little bear so adorable and terrifying at the same time? Ivan Brandon’s script is composed of equal parts tender family moments and horrific violence, and the format—slightly wider, with a cardstock, spot-varnished cover—is super nice for only $2.99 US.  Throw on  "Invaders" by Iron Maiden  and have a blast.
 

Never Trust Ladies Who Live Down A Well!

    Continuing last week’s Pluto tradition of me writing about stuff long after everybody else has discovered and blogged about it, I’m going to talk today about IDW’s Locke & Key. This horror/fantasy series by Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez debuted last year with a six-issue miniseries, Welcome To Lovecraft, and is available in a slick hardcover volume. That first miniseries is up for this year’s Eisner award for Best Miniseries, and Joe Hill received a nod for Best Writer, so I guess this review isn’t entirely un-timely.
    Locke & Key is one of those occasional series from relative newcomers that somehow reads as though it was crafted by seasoned old professionals who know their way around every trick in the funnybook business. That’s not to say that Hill and Rodriguez are complete novices—after all, Hill is a bona-fide New York Times bestselling novelist, and Rodriguez has done a few IDW projects before this, but this series announces the both of them as comics talents to be reckoned with. I read the first issue of Welcome To Lovecraft when it was released in single issue form, and was intrigued by the capable, confident storytelling and the supernatural premise, but by the time issue two rolled around, our store was swamped with demands for the series and I sold every copy before I could get a look at it. After that, the series just kinda got away from me, but after my pal Eric (check out his amazing illustrations at http://www.ericorchard.blogspot.com/) lent me Hill’s awesome short story collection, 20th Century Ghosts (if you’ve got a hankering for some very Bradburyesque horror/fantasy, you owe it to yourself to check this out), I resolved to have another crack at Locke & Key.

    The first series, Welcome To Lovecraft, introduces readers to the Locke family as tragedy engulfs them. When guidance counselor dad Rendell is murdered by a disturbed student named Sam Lesser, the remaining family members—Ty, Kinsey, Gabe, and their mother—head to the town of Lovecraft, Massachusetts to live with uncle Duncan in the ominously-named family estate Keyhouse. Once there, plucky youngster Gabe is the first to discover the house’s mysterious properties—such as a certain door that renders your body lifeless but frees up your ghost to float around, as well as a sinister phantom named Echo who lives in a well. Turns out Echo is also in contact with psycho Sam Lesser up in the correctional facility, and she recruits him to bevil the Locke clan once more—this time, to find her a very special set of keys that Rendell may have hidden in the house years ago.   

    Often, when writers from other media try their hand at comics, there is a pretty steep learning curve. However, Hill has managed, in true Dr. Frankenstein fashion, to stitch together what he has learned from writing prose fiction with what he has loved about the comic form his whole life. The result is an engaging and readable narrative that glides effortlessly back and forth between past and present, and is filled with chilling reveals and cleverly seamless transitions. Each issue spotlights a different character, giving us their perspective on the awful events that brought them to Keyhouse and gradually revealing different facets of their personalities; for instance, we know that Ty is particularly haunted by his father’s murder, but it’s not until issue four that we learn exactly why. Gabriel Rodriguez’s highly detailed and expressive art looks like a weird hybrid between Rick Geary and Bob Fingerman, of all people. He gives all of the characters their own unique look and sets of expressions, while still managing to make the members of the Locke family look related to one another. Rodriguez also give the location of Keyhouse loads of personality, with its sinister gables and turrets and ominously-illustrated doors.
    If I have a complaint about Welcome to Lovecraft, it’s that it doesn’t really stand all that well on its own—a sequel, Head Games, is on its fourth issue as I write this, and it presumably delves more into the mystery of Keyhouse (which apparently “chose” Duncan, not Rendell, to live there—why? And how?), the connection between Rendell Locke and the gender-swapping ghost Echo (look for some well-placed foreshadowing of this in issue three), and the purpose of the key Bode fishes out of the lake at the end of issue six. That isn’t much of a complaint, though, since I enjoyed the first series enough that the lack of closure is more of an enticement than a put-off. Locke & Key: Welcome To Lovecraft is a creepy good time, a macabre mixture of supernatural horror and family drama that hints at a much more intricate and generational tapestry of terror.
 

Archie Sunday: Foot Fun!

And now two gross Archie comics on the subject of podiatary problems:

Fin.

JLA: Cry for Supergirl

 I had a really busy Wednesday and Thursday, so I was late reading my comics this week. But I did want to mention this:

From left to right: Hero! Hero! Hero! Hero! Boobs!

Aw man! Surely DC is not doing this. Not after they have worked so hard and earned my praise for the last year or two for their complete turn-around of the Supergirl charcacter. She is no longer DC's teenage blow-up doll, but instead a complex, strong hero who is far more than a pair of boobs in a halter top.

So any excitement that I had that this promo image implies that Supergirl is going to be a member of the Justice League is overshadowed by the fact that the only women on the page is an isolated pair of boobs. I hate when a woman's head is cut off in an ad or promo image, and it happens all the time. Nevermind the fact that it looks like the four male heroes in the picture are just staring at Supergirl's rack.

Boooooo, DC. Boooooooo.

Grave Consequences: The End of 100 Bullets

This week, a much-beloved, oft-delayed series came to its highly anticipated conclusion. I’m talking, of course, about Halo: Uprising…nah, just kidding. Instead of wasting time talking about a four-issue miniseries that took about two years to come out, I’m going to celebrate and eulogize a 100-issue miniseries that came out more or less regularly over the last ten years, with a few production holdups along the way (around the middle and at the end, mostly). Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso, take a much-deserved bow—you guys finally reached the end of 100 Bullets.

    This is somewhat surprising, since it looked as though the Vertigo revenge drama wouldn’t survive its first year. I gave the first issue a glance when it came out—liked the art, dug the cover, appreciated the pacing and street-smart dialogue—but there wasn’t enough there to bring me back for issue two. The concept, a semi-anthology where the mysterious Agent Graves offers consequence-free revenge to a series of hard luck cases, had promise, but…I don’t know. There just wasn’t enough meat on its metaphorical bones, so to speak. However, by the time the first collection, First Shot Last Call, arrived, with its dirt-cheap price tag—ten bucks US for five issues and a short story, not bad!—I had heard the growing buzz and decided to give 100 Bullets another try. This formula succeeded in spades, as the low price point and critical acclaim made it an irresistible draw. The title continued, racking up awards, acclaim, and increased sales, and a Vertigo sales strategy that continues to this day was born. As for me, I was in for the long haul.
    The second 100 Bullets collection, Split Second Chance, is where lots of readers who weren’t entirely swayed by the first book toppled altogether. It’s in this much longer trade that we get our first glimpses of the bigger conspiracy behind Agent Graves’ “game”--that he is not only doling out sweet, sweet revenge, but that he is recruiting new players into an older, much more dangerous game. It’s where we see that Azzarello is not only a pro at crafting multi-part stories, but killer one-shots as well (such as “Heartbreak, Sunny Side Up”, still one of the all time greats). It’s where we begin to chart the evolution of Chicago gang-banger Dizzy Cordova, heroine of the series’ introductory arc, as she is crafted into Graves’ greatest weapon, and where we meet the first of the mysterious and deadly Minutemen, like savage Lono and slick Cole Burns. Finally, it’s where we hear the first whispers about the Trust, the sinister cabal of families who control everything that’s worth controlling in America.
    I should pause here and talk about Eduardo Risso’s art. It would be impressive enough to note that the Argentinean illustrator didn’t even meet his collaborator until well into the series’ run, and in fact, had to have the scripts translated for him because he didn’t understand English—furthermore, he wasn’t even on the same continent as the writer! All of that is beside the point, when you see how brilliantly Risso brings the stories to life. Not only does he capture all the raw emotion, all of the gun-blazing action, all of the oh-so-important character subtleties, but he populates every panel with the most bizarre-looking, eye-catching background characters this side of a Dick Tracy strip to boot. It’s hard to say which angles or details are in the script and which ones Risso concocts himself, but come on—this guy gives you shots from inside a pinball game, from a canvas about to be painted on, and from behind a man’s skull as his brains are being blown out! You gotta stand up and salute that kind of vision. And he only gets better as the series goes along.

    I also have to mention Dave Johnson’s artistic contribution, providing the striking cover imagery of all 100 issues and all 13 (eventual) collected editions. Even in the early days of his more traditional painted covers, Johnson’s work had the eye-catching quality of some of the cooler movie posters from the 60s and 70s, but over time his arrangements became more daring and unconventional, all the while looking completely effortless. This is, I think, a case where the use of PhotoShop has made a great artist even better, opening up new possibilities and firing his imagination rather than simply making him lazy. Strange Adventures bossman Calum Johnston scored an amazing Agent Graves sketch for me from the man himself in Toronto a few years back, and it’s scowling down at me as I type this.

    100 Bullets is one of those series that, while obviously successful enough to continue all the way to its planned conclusion, never sold lots of copies of the single issues. That’s why that first trade was such an important component in its early success—the long-range planning Azzarello put into the book was much more evident when you read it that way. This is the kind of title, after all, where someone appears for a few panels in the background of an issue, only to become a central figure two or three trade paperbacks down the line. This is a series that rewards patience and attention to detail, which could often make the monthly comics confusing and occasionally tedious. I re-read all twelve existing trades before the final arc began, then began reading the monthlies to see it though to the end, but by about four or five issues into it, I realized I was already getting lost in the wait between issues.
    Which brings me, finally, to 100 Bullets #100. This super-sized issue features Graves’ final showdown with the remaining members of the Trust, while the remaining members of the Minutemen cause grievous bodily harm to countless bodyguards and each other. If that synopsis sounds a bit pedestrian, it’s because, as predicted…I mostly had no idea what the hell was going on. There were definitely some memorable moments, like Jack Daw vs. hulking bodyguard Crete vs. a bunch of alligators, and Cole Burns’, er, heated exchange with ice queen Megan Dietrich, but I couldn’t wrap my head around what exactly all of Graves’ Byzantine maneuvering had actually accomplished, and what it meant for the final scene (which, appropriately enough, came down to Graves and Dizzy). It sure did look great, though, but I think I’ll appreciate it a lot more when I revisit it in the final trade (due out this summer).
    Still, sometimes the ride is the point, not the destination, and 100 Bullets was a ride like no other. One of the sexiest, goriest, most intricately plotted and beautifully drawn comics I’ve ever read, populated with some of the most memorable psychopaths, femmes fatales, smooth operators, and sad sacks ever found between two covers, has come and gone, and I can’t imagine what could replace it or even want to try.

Have one on me, Graves, you've earned it. Now who the hell’s gonna sweep up all these shell casings?

"He Is Brave And Gentle And Wise..."

I don’t remember the old Astro Boy cartoon nearly as well as some of my friends do; like them, I first saw it when I was in elementary school, but all I’ve managed to retain is the super-lame theme song (“Strong-er than all the reeeest/This mighty ro-bot will pass the teeeest...” etc.), and the game at the end where Astro Boy summed up the plot but fibbed about an important detail to see if the viewers at home were paying attention. However, I know a lot of folks who swear by the show about the little boy ‘bot with the pointy hair, and who are devoted to the show’s emotionally wrenching storylines—like the one about the little girl robot who’s actually a bomb sent to destroy the show’s hero, but when she eventually falls in love with him, she runs off into the snow to explode alone. Thinking about it, that actually does sound kind of cool, but not as cool as the legendary two-parter The Greatest Robot On Earth, where an evil robot named Pluton begins tracking down and destroying the seven most advanced robots on the planet. When Astro Boy comes up in conversation, which is more often than you’d imagine, this is the storyline that is usually touted as his greatest adventure.

    Apparently, legendary manga creator Naoki Urasawa (Monster) thought so too, even if his memories of Astro Boy were formed more by Osamu Tezuka’s original Tetsuwan Atom comics. Urasawa, overseen by Tezuka’s son, has taken it upon himself to create a retelling of The Greatest Robot On Earth with his manga series Pluto. Originally published in Japan in 2003, Pluto is now being imported to North America by Viz in a seven (I think) volume series. The first two volumes are available now, with more being released bi-monthly. As specific an homage as this series is, you don’t need to be a manga fan or an Astro Boy fan to appreciate what Urasawa’s done here. Pluto will appeal to fans of thoughtful science fiction in the vein of Asimov or Blade Runner, and is an early candidate for my favourite new series of the year.
    Reformatting The Greatest Robot On Earth as a sort of police procedural thriller, Pluto follows a detective named Gesicht as he attempts to solve two possibly intertwined murder mysteries—the destruction of a series of highly advanced robots all over the world, and the gruesome slaying of various humans who are staunch advocates of human rights. The robots are all veterans of the 39th Central Asian War, and the human victims all belonged to a controversial survey group who were tasked with finding robotic weapons of mass destruction in a fictional country some years ago. Gesicht is aided by the Hannibal Lecter-like advice of Brau 1589, an incarcerated robot who is the only artificial being to ever murder a human (until now, possibly?), and a small robotic boy named Atom (he’s the one with the annoying theme song).

    Set in a future world where humans and robots co-exist more or less peacefully, Pluto asks questions about life and emotions, artificial or otherwise. The robot victims are long past the search for humanity or emotion—they are more concerned with finding meaning and beauty in the world after surviving a terrible war where they were forced to do battle with their own kind. The doomed robots make for an intriguing cast of protagonists. There’s Mont Blanc, the mascot of the Swiss Forestry Service who is beloved across the globe; North No. 2, a serene would-be musician whose cloak conceals an array of deadly weaponry; and Brando, a literal rock ‘em-sock ‘em robot who, when not fighting in title bouts against other robots, is a family man with five rambunctious kids.

    You’d have to be a robot yourself not to be caught up in the emotional component of Pluto. The global heartbreak and mourning that follows Mont Blanc’s destruction is weirdly affecting, as is Gesicht’s visit to the robotic widow of a police robot who is destroyed by a drug-addicted fugitive (and whose memory chip might provide a vital clue in the larger mystery). The centerpiece of the first volume is the three chapters devoted to North No. 2 and his new job as servant to a reclusive, sightless musical genius. The tumultuous relationship between the two is eventually healed as North No. 2 helps his master remember a song from his childhood that reveals a long-buried truth about his mother. The musician’s eventual acceptance of North No. 2 as a friend and collaborator makes the appearance of the mystery assailant pretty devastating, as do the scenes with Brando and his loving family.
    That’s not to say that Pluto is simply a sci-fi hanky fest, though. There are plenty of other elements in the first two volumes to hold one’s interest—the intricate mystery behind both the robot and human murders is plenty involving, and the action scenes (like Gesicht’s foot pursuit of the drug-addled suspect in Volume 1, or Brando’s furious brawl with the killer in Volume 2) are fast-paced and exciting, and the interrogation scenes with Brau 1589 are ominously creepy. Urasawa’s art balances detail, action, and emotion nicely, finding depths of feeling even in North No. 2’s ever-unchanging expression and the blank face of the robot widow. Part sci-fi whodunit, part modern recontextualization of a classic adventure, Pluto is an exciting and essential new series. Just pay close attention to the details—there may be an untrustworthy recap at the end.