Review: Robot 13 #3

It would be easy to dismiss Robot 13 based on its obvious influences — Mike Mignola and Hellboy, maybe a little Atomic Robo, the well-worn trope of Greek mythology intruding on the modern world — but then you'd be missing out on a fun and intriguing book with plenty of originality and its own unique charm.

Robot 13 #3 picks up with the amnesiac automaton waking up in a cabin belonging to a blind man who thinks he's saved a pilot decked out in a flight suit and helmet, a survivor of the unseen war booming in the background. What he doesn't know is that R-13 crash-landed into a mountain after fighting a phoenix, and had been fighting mythological creatures since he was pulled out of the sea in fishermen's nets earlier. And what neither one of them knows is Echidna, the Mother of All Monsters, has caught wind of the return of her ancient enemy and has restarted their ages-long fight.

And believe me, in between the intrigue and stage-setting, there is plenty of fighting. Artist Daniel Bradford uses a gorgeous-to-look-at style that recalls (heavily, at times) Mignola and B.P.R.D. artist Guy Davis to create dynamic fight scenes and strangely lush, wide-open panels that have the effect of being smaller, self-contained splash pages. Backgrounds border on abstract, detail lines are wrinkled while outlines are often pliant and loopy, colors are bold yet muted, and it somehow all works. Faces sometimes come across as cartoony and perspective isn't given as much attention as it should be here and there, but these are minor complaints in what is a solid look that is often cinematic.

The script by Thomas Hall is subtle and restrained, and he gives the characters just enough to say to keep them conversational and individual. "Voices" are never just copy-paste, and the personalities — or at least hints of personality — come through. R-13 is unfailingly polite, Echidna is insidious and quick, and every minor character has their own cadence; best of all, Hall knows when to let the action tell the story instead of filling every panel with unnecessary dialogue, which is a rare quality that shows a certain maturity as a writer.

There is some forced exposition in this third issue that drops more clues than might've been necessary, but that just might be my own high tolerance for the slow burn. Given the nature of the story, I can see where the creators — and readers — might want to get things moving in terms of story; hopefully, awkward transitions will be rare (and honestly, in three issues this is the only one that comes to mind).

At the end of the third issue — and the cap of the "Colossus" storyline — readers are still left with the question: Who is Robot 13? Is he a magical monster-fighter? A triumph of ancient science? A lost soul? A hero? Whatever the answer ends up being, it's a mystery worth unraveling — and Robot 13 is a comic you should be reading.


Robot 13 doesn't seem to have wide distribution, but can be bought directly from Blacklist Studios.

Review: The quiet power of Joe the Barbarian #1

Joe the Barbarian #1 is the kind of book that renews my faith in comics.

At first glance, it's easy to take some easy shots at the first issue of the title; it's Grant Morrison over-indulging in decompression, the art by Sean Murphy is beautiful but just set-dressing, the story itself isn't going anywhere or telling you anything about the characters, and — my favorite — there are three or four pages of a kid walking through his house and nothing else. It's boring.

All of this is wrong.

Maybe too many comic book readers have become used to an explosion or super-powered fist-fight on every other page. But Joe the Barbarian is, if you look carefully, telling what is promising to be a complex and compelling story. And the first issue is telling a story, in a way that is unique to the literary form — by letting the images do a lot of the talking.

This isn't to say Morrison's script isn't doing its fair share: The bare-bones script tells us what we need to know to get started, introducing us to young, surly Joe; his slightly frazzled mother, the jerk bullies, the nice girl and the dead father. With the exception of Joe they're all ciphers, but for now it's OK — it's enough because it helps put our hero in relief. We learn a little about Joe through his brief but intense interactions with others.

We also learn, through small clues in both the script and art, that Joe is diabetic and thanks to those bullies (and possibly his own teen-aged pig-headedness) he's in trouble. And now the big, rambling house he lives in is going to seem a lot bigger, and much more dangerous and unfamiliar.

Which brings me back to the art. The superb work by Murphy is anything but static; at turns gloomy, then lush and exploding with color before slipping back to scenes that seem to be draining of life, the art is atmospheric and rich. If the artwork is anything to judge by, Joe the Barbarian is going to be Murphy's story as much as Morrison's, and deservedly so.

The art depicts both a dreary and ordinary day and a bright and fire-scorched fantasy land with equal ease; strangely enough, it also serves to ground Morrison's sketchy, true-to-life exchanges and his trademark fever-dream dialogue. Most of the clues to the characters' backgrounds and personalities, as well as much of the foreshadowing and mood, are delivered through Murphy's work, purposefully making it more than just a setting. Instead, it's an essential part of the story. And, quite simply, the art is gorgeous.

In a way, Joe the Barbarian demands more than it gives: Is Joe going into some sort of diabetic shock? Is he hallucinating a world populated with the toys and knick-knacks filling his room? What do our fantasies say about ourselves and about our lives? None of this is answered in the first issue, obviously. But I think it's enough for now that the title brings up these questions.

It's tempting to say Joe the Barbarian #1 is challenging — but it isn't, really. But it's not simple, either. Instead, it's a book that expects — and invites — readers to pay attention. Pay attention to the words, to the art, and to the way they work so intractably together, and I think you'll be rewarded for the effort.

Download a preview here.

Review: Rage and revenge flow through 'NOLA'

NOLA #1 is the definition of visceral.

Unrelenting in tone and unapologetic in characterization, it's a story centered on someone you wouldn't necessarily want to know, but still find yourself morbidly drawn toward. Nola was a fairly typical kind of person once; apparently successful, well-liked in the community, good to her mother and the people around her. If she's got a flaw it's her weakness for the married man who flaunts the fact that she'll never be anything more than the gal he bangs in the back room of a bar.

Set against the backdrop of the property damage and human wreckage left behind by Hurricane Katrina — no more than days past, judging by the waters still swallowing up homes and highways in the background — we can see disaster has hit Nola in more ways than just the obvious. Something Happened to Nola, and whatever it was has led her to hide her face behind a scarf, to launch an assault into her sunken city, to coldly and ruthlessly kill in search of revenge.

Clues are dropped in NOLA #1 that hint at what might have taken her from a life as a sophisticated, charming woman to someone barely recognizable anymore, a stormy reflection of a city suddenly deeply and poisonously scarred. It's these clues that give NOLA it's hook. Almost everything here is a catalyst, serving as clues to what drives Nola to pursue revenge in such an apparently single-minded way, no matter what or who gets in the way.

Vigilante violence is old hat, but an origin story is almost always intriguing, and NOLA has kicked its off with the sting of an unexpected slap. Normally I'm against decompression in comics; too much of it keeps a story plodding along when it should at least be jogging. But in this case, I hope series creator Chris Gorak and script-writer Pierluigi Cothran continue to take their time letting readers in on the big picture — a little mystery gives this story its tension, and there's plenty of other action to keep things moving.

I also appreciated the way characters speak with that particular, Southern-Gulf Coast drawl in a was that feels natural rather than forced. It's these details — the accents, the wrought iron chairs and fences, the all-too recognizable view of roofs poking out of the floodwaters like the bows of sunken boats — that help put NOLA in a particular time and place. I'd be surprised if New Orleans and Hurricane Katrina don't become characters in their own right in later issues.

Gorak lived in New Orleans for more than five years, and his connection to the city shows. I hope that authenticity carries throughout the story; I'm optimistic that we'll see the people of New Orleans and the victims of Katrina treated as characters, not caricatures, without minimizing what they went through for the sake of story.

My only minor complaint, really more of a pet peeve, is the art by Damian Couceiro. Let me be really clear here: There's nothing wrong with the art itself. Personally I'd like it if was a little cleaner, with stronger lines, but that might be more a matter of the way it's been inked and colored than anything else. Mostly it just looks a lot like the art that turns up in many other BOOM! books. That look has been less true prevalent recently, but as I reader I've seen similar artwork from the publisher enough times that, in my mind, it's the house-style. I'm ready for something with a different look.

Still, that could just be me, and the art is solid and detail-minded in a way that sets the stage — and the mood — for the story being told. The character of Nola herself is fascinating; she seems to be a real car-wreck of a person, with an internal, emotional ugliness you can't help but stare at as you try to put the pieces back into a shape you can understand. I'm looking forward to seeing where Nola's brutal story goes from here.

Smell my feet

Hoo-boy.

Let me tell you, it ain't easy to get back into the semi-regular posting after a vacation filled with cloudy weather, chowdah and almost no Internet access. And have I mentioned that I visited H.P. Lovecraft's grave? IN THE RAIN?! 'Cause I did.

Aaaaaaanyway, I haven't even really had a chance to catch up on my comic book reading yet ...

(Longish aside: OK, I did read Justice League of America #38 since it was the "jumping on point" with James Robinson taking over the writing and also since I'm a JLA fan from way back, and I was ... unimpressed. I still don't understand DC's insistence on forcing Vixen down reader's throats, and you obviously need to have read other titles to know what the hell's going on. Not exactly reader-friendly. But! I really, really enjoy what Robinson and Greg Rucka have been doing with Superman: World of New Krypton, so I'm going to give it a chance to pull its meandering head out of its stilted ass. That is all.)

... wait. What was I saying? Oh, yeah — I'm still getting caught up on recent comics. I'm also struggling with full-on Halloween fever, so with that in mind here are some tricks 'n' treats for you. I love you, no matter what your mother says.

First, the treat:


Katie Cook is a master of the phenomenally cute illustration, as well as incredibly inventive papercraft. A case in point is this awesome Batman mask (Adam West style, yo) that you can print out and make for yourself! It's pretty great, and you can download the full version — complete with instructions — at her Web site.

And the trick:

I'm not saying it's right, but let's acknowledge for a minute that, once you reach a certain age and temperament, a person might not worry so much about candy as much as wrecking someone else's shit in the name of All Hallow's Eve. I'm not condoning it — VANDALISM IS WRONG — but I won't say I never threw an egg or roll of toilet paper in my day. I may have even spray-painted something on a wall here or there, and I know if the conditions were right I might even be tempted to use this:


Behold the affirmation of all things Fury. Beautiful in its simplicity of image and message, the complete version of this stencil by Joe D! can be found and downloaded in all its flag-wavin', black-ops glory at his site.

Y'know, just in case you run out of candy or something.

And now, a random image of Godzilla with a parasol.

Items! Of! Interest!

You know who can't be stopped? Well, yeah, Godzilla, but y'know who else? Kevin Church, the Internet's cheeriest comics and pop culture blogger who also happens to be a damn fine comic creator in his own right.

If you follow GCP regularly (or semi-regularly, as the case may be, and if so, why is that the case, jerk?!), you already know I'm a fan of The Rack and its limited series spin-off Lydia. This time Church is doing something a bit different with She Died in Terrebone, a crime/mystery strip he's writing, with art by T.J. Kirsch. There are four prelude strips that do a nice job of setting the story's tone and introducing the main characters, as well as giving readers a feel for Kirsch's appropriately rangy artwork, and the first story arc is already two strips in — get in on the story before all the other kids laugh at you.

As if that wasn't enough, Church is also partnering with artist Ming Doyle on another new humor strip called The Loneliest Astronauts, launching tomorrow! The premise sounds great, well-suited to Church's shank-to-the-kidney style of humor, and I can't wait to see Doyle's sketchy take on the trappings of life in outer space.

...

Behold! The Batman sketches of Eliza Gauger!


Are you man enough to handle the most disturbing Underoos ever?!?

...

Finally, I'm not doing this comic justice with a blurb but I wanted to make sure I mentioned Underground — by writer Jeff Parker and artist Steve Lieber — and how you should be reading the hell out of it.

Underground is a crime story involving dirty land developers, Native American concerns, park rangers with hearts of gold and, of course, a cave that serves as a character in its own right. Parker is writing a script that smolders with the kind of menace only greedy, amoral and all-t00-human characters can bring, and Lieber delivers the knowing touch for depicting nature and realistic facial expressions that helped make Whiteout famous.

My only gripe would be the coloring by Ron Chan, which seemed rushed or blocky in places throughout the first issue. This could just be a matter of bad registration off the press, and it certainly isn't enough to take away from what is shaping up to be a winning comic.

If you haven't read it yet there are previews of issues #1 and #2 at the Web site, and you can also download a black-and-white version of the full first issue there — so get to it!

Reviews: Doom for a Wednesday

Even when a person has the best intentions, it can be hard not to slip into the "collector" mentality. I've always considered myself to be more of a reader than a collector, and I try to approach my weekly comic book purchases with that in mind.

Between that and the increasing number of titles that are hitting the $3.99 price point, I'm suddenly buying fewer comics than I had been and passing on titles I would have otherwise brought home to my little comic book love den. (Ew.) Who was the chopping block this week?

After some back-and-forth, I finally decided to pass on Wednesday Comics #5 (of 12) . It's not because I don't like it — hell, some of it I downright love. And I'm a fan of the format and the serial approach. Wednesday Comics is a lot of fun on a lot of levels. But as I've mentioned elsewhere, there isn't enough to justify picking it up every week when I'm really just digging about a third of the strips. I'll wait to see how DC collects it in the end and probably pick it up then.

The other casualty really killed me, 'cause I love me some Ed Brubaker Captain America. But trying to stick to a weekly budget means fewer of the higher-priced titles, so Captain America: Reborn #2 (of 5) is another one that will have to wait for a trade. Of course, I say that now — if it turns out I can squeeze it in on some other week, I'm totally picking it up.

Still, it's not like I went home empty-handed. Agents of Atlas #9 was another great issue from Jeff Parker, with entertaining art from Dan Panosian. Superman: World of New Krypton is another comic I've been enjoying — more than I expected to, honestly — and issue #6 (of 12) sees Greg Rucka continuing to use his chops for political intrigue to tell a different kind of Superman story. I'm not looking forward to watching it jump to other titles in the Superman line, but it was probably as inevitable as Taco Tuesday.

I also grabbed Doom Patrol #1, and I'm torn. It wasn't bad, really (not especially great, either), but I'm one of those assholes who's been so steeped in Grant Morrison's version of the gang that Keith Giffen's characterizations just sound ... weird. Which is kinda odd in itself since I'm basically arguing that the guy who is a mummified manifestation of negative energy doesn't come across like the floating hermaphrodite I'm used to. I do appreciate the nihilistic vibe of the first issue, so I'll be back for the next one. The Metal Men back-up (also by Giffen with J.M. DeMatteis, and wonderful artwork by Kevin Maguire) is almost worth picking up the book on its own; it's fun, surprisingly character driven and a worthy modernization of the notoriously wacky Robert Kanigher stories.

Oh! I almost forgot! My LCS is gearing up for its big annual sale by putting one trade paperback on sale every week. So for one measly buck I picked up Uncanny X-Men — The New Age: The End of History, written by none other than Chris "Body and Soul" Claremont.

It's pure Claremont, and it is AWESOME. At one point, swear to God, Wolverine and Nightcrawler are strapped back-to-back to each other and fighting — shit, I don't know, some robot-thing — while Bishop throws a connecting rod at some contraption on Wolverine's chest so he can REEL THEM BACK IN. And later, Viper wears the most impossible costume ever.

Again — AWESOME.

(I mean, I wouldn't have bought it if it wasn't on sale, but at $1 ... totally worth it.)

What did you pick up this week? Let me know in the comments!

Review: Wednesday Comics, week 4

It's been a month since DC's latest experiment in weekly comics launched, and four weeks seems like a fair enough amount of time to see how things are shaping up in the pages of Wednesday Comics. There are 15 strips in all, so let's look at them in the order that they're printed.

Superman

Batman: The story writer Brian Azzarello and artist Eduardo Risso are putting together is basically like reading the creative team's 100 Bullets set in Gotham — and there ain't anything wrong with that. Azzarello is bringing all the best noir qualities of the Dark Knight Detective front and center, giving readers a nice little mystery with the grit of a Hammett novel. You just know that dame is up to no good and so does Batman, and I'm enjoying watching him use his Bruce Wayne persona like a chessmaster. Risso's art is bold and clean, and his use of shadow is a beautiful thing — I honestly think this is some of his best work.

Kamandi, The Last Boy on Earth: There isn't much that can be said about Kamandi that doesn't sound like hyperbole, so let's just get it out there. The strip by Dave Gibbons and Ryan Sook is simply gorgeous, and is the strip that most personifies the heart of the old school Sunday funnies. Obviously taking inspiration from Prince Valiant, Kamandi is lushly rendered by Sook and written by Gibbons in a voice that just sounds right. It doesn't hurt that the story kicked into action early and hasn't let up since. It's a thrilling read, with art that deserves the longing gaze it evokes.

Superman: I really, really wanted to like this story by John Arcudi. I mean, I like the guy's work, especially what he's done with B.P.R.D. But I just can't get into this strip. I understand that it seems to be an examination of Superman and his wrestling with an identity crisis, his feelings of being an alien in every sense of the word weighing down on him. But when you essentially have 12 pages in which to tell your story, the amount of decompression we've gotten so far is a little ridiculous. I don't mind a thoughtful, cerebral take on the Man of Tomorrow, but in this case tomorrow never comes because nothing ever happens. Superman makes sad faces, and that's pretty much it. Granted, it all looks very pretty thanks to artist Lee Bermejo, but the art can't do all the heavy lifting alone. It's also a bit grating that this is the strip getting a national audience thanks to USA TODAY, because so far I don't think this is going to do much to get potential new readers interested in comics. And what was with that characterization of Batman a couple of weeks ago, anyway? Eesh.

Deadman: I was on the fence about this feature, but it's gotten over the hump of trying to explain who Boston Brand is and what his — admittedly arcane — deal is. Starting out in an alleyway crime scene and currently in what looks like a particularly aggressive level of hell, writers Dave Bullock and Vinton Heuck are giving readers a story that is progressing nicely and raises the stakes with each chapter. I don't know what's going on, but I'm looking forward to finding out. The art by Bullock also fits the story well, with echoes of Jack Kirby, Mike Mignola and even Darwyn Cooke's work on The New Frontier coming together in a style that manages not to ape any of them. Bullock has also used the oversized pages to present some interesting page layouts, another element that helps make Deadman one of the sleeper strips in this anthology.

Green Lantern: Let me say something from the beginning; I'm a fan of writer Kurt Busiek. His Astro City series should be considered required reading, and his "Up, Up and Away!" story arc in the Superman titles a few years back went a long way toward getting me back into the character. But so far, very little has actually happened in this strip, and even less of it has involved the title character. The cartoony, yet detailed, art by Joe Quiñones should be a perfect fit for a retro-modern Green Lantern comic — it's a shame Green Lantern has been noticeably absent. And the latest chapter looks as if it's setting readers up for a flashback, which will probably take up at least another one or two installments. C'mon — there's decompression and then there's de. com. pression.

Teen Titans

Metamorpho: The creative team of Neil Gaiman and Mike Allred has thankfully moved on to multiple panels instead of what were basically wonderfully drawn splash pages with almost no text. Again, when you only have 12 pages to tell your story it seems silly to squander your storytelling opportunities. Speaking of Allred's art, though, it is a good fit for Metamorpho, using the artist's talent for mixing panels of monstrous men and women in cheesecake poses. Gaiman also seems to be having fun with his story, and I'm surprised by how little this "sounds" like Neil Gaiman (if that makes sense). I do have one problem, though; why is Sapphire Stagg such an air-headed bimbo?

Teen Titans: This is one of my least favorite strips in the Wednesday Comics lineup. It's not necessarily a bad story, it just hasn't hooked me in any real way and I get the sneaking suspicion that it's not meant for me. Which is fine, honestly, and maybe younger readers or fans of the cartoons will dig it. But for my part the story by Eddie Berganza seems drawn out, and I'm not a fan of bad-guy Trident acting as narrator for the story (mostly because the dialogue is clunky and distracting). The art by Sean Galloway keeps things simple with strong, clean lines and a look that's a now-familiar mash-up of manga and WB cartoons, but the pseudo-sepia tone laid over the whole thing weakens the impact.

Strange Adventures: I've been going on and on about this feature on Facebook, but I'll say it again and again — this is my favorite story in the whole anthology. It's fair to say I'm in the tank for writer and artist Paul Pope, and Strange Adventures just solidifies that even more. Pope obviously took inspiration from Flash Gordon and similar strips and just ran with it, creating something that is crazy, exciting and pure fun. I've heard complaints from people who don't like Pope's art, but I'm a fan of his kinetic, sketchy style and no one can draw baboon barbarians quite like him. The story itself is well-paced and hints at larger worlds without getting bogged down in them. I would love to see Pope's Strange Adventures become a regular ongoing title.

Supergirl: This strip by writer Jimmy Palmiotti and artist Amanda Conner is cute, fast-paced and — I can't believe I'm saying this — a rollicking little story. The first couple of installments felt slow and almost too cute, but the story of Supergirl and the mischievous super-pets is steadily upping the silly fun. The way Kara is characterized — she's a smart, smart-alecky teen who's flustered by the mayhem — is growing on me, and I can see this being something that would especially appeal to new and younger readers.

Metal Men: I don't think writer (and DC head honcho) Dan DiDio ever met a corny joke he didn't like. Somehow, it works (though geez, there are some groaners) and his contribution to the lineup has been a pretty classic take on the Metal Men. The dialogue is sometimes clunky and transitions in the plot aren't always smooth, but it's easy to tell DiDio is having fun and it comes through on the page. Art by one of my favorite artists — Jose Luís Garcia-Lopez, with Kevin Nowlan — certainly doesn't hurt, and I find myself poring over details in the background and the fantastic facial expressions in just about every scene.

Hawkman

Wonder Woman: This is another strip I really, really want to like, but the crowded page, murky art and repetitive plot hook makes this a chore to read. The art by Ben Caldwell (who does double-duty as the writer) looks as if it would be beautiful if it was given room to breathe, but several tiny panels — 55 in issue #4 alone — are mashed together and paired with a catch-me-if-you-can approach to layout, ending up with a strip that's a nearly incomprehensible mess. Also, the Little Nemo-esque idea of Diana getting into adventures in her dreams was a neat concept the first time, but having it happen every time is undermining the momentum of her quest. Throw in a bizarre reference to La Dia de los Muertos and you've got a story that serves mostly to confuse.

Sgt. Rock and Easy Co.: I love Sgt. Rock and I'm a huge fan of artist and Rock co-originator Joe Kubert. With seamless writing from son (and comic creator in his own right) Adam Kubert, there's probably nothing negative I can say about this one. OK, maybe the story could move along a little faster. Otherwise, this is classic Sgt. Rock and if you like war stories, you'll like this. Let's move on.

Flash Comics: This feature earned points with me early on by splitting its story into two comics strips, The Flash and Iris West. The first is an entertaining superhero story told in a light Silver Age style, while the second is a clever nod to frothy soap opera comics like Mary Worth and Rex Morgan, M.D. The two strips — both written by Karl Kerschl and Brenden Fletcher, with Kerschl handling illustrating duties — are interconnected, telling the same story from different points of view, and the conceit works pretty well. The Flash provides plenty of action and the appropriate amount of scenery-chewing speeches from the bad guy while recalling the classic characterization of Barry Allen as an absent-minded professor who really enjoys being a superhero. Iris West gives readers a window into the life of ... well, Iris West ... the Flash's long-suffering better half. I like the way this story captures the tone of those soapy strips while keeping Iris an intelligent and strong female character. I just wish there was a little more distinction in Kerschl's art — which is cleanly detailed and pitch-perfect — between the two strips than just an added screen on Iris West.

The Demon and Catwoman: Walter Simonson is rightly regarded as a comic book legend thanks to the way he put his epic imagination to work on what's considered the definitive version of Thor. And the art by Brian Stelfreeze is suitably dark and Kirby-like. But honestly? I don't know what the hell is going on with this strip, and I'm just hoping it comes together before it's over.

Hawkman: Like Strange Adventures, this is a feature I love unreservedly. Written and drawn by Kyle Baker, Hawkman has a vibe that taps into the adventure comic strips of the past but with an unmistakably modern sensibility. Better yet, Baker doesn't shy from what makes Hawkman awesome — he's an alien with strap-on bird wings who fights his enemies with medieval weapons like a mace and a sword. Carter Hall, with his convoluted history and increasingly brutish personality, is a character that seems to give writers trouble. Baker, however, doesn't seem to have any trouble at all, even in a plot that involves infiltrating aliens, birdspeak and a plunging jetliner. With Baker at the helm, this is another strip that should spin out into a regular monthly title.

Phew! So what does it all mean? One of the things that jumps out at me is how — like most anthologies — Wednesday Comics is hit-or-miss, with a couple of strong features, a few stinkers and a lot of middle-of-the-road stories. Will weaker strips improve? Will others slip? Just like following a traditional Sunday comic strip, we'll have to wait and see.

What do you think of where Wednesday Comics is so far, and where do you think it'll end up? Let's hear your opinions in the comments!

Reviews: Do androids dream in the blackest night?

Sorry about the recent silence, kids (yeah, I know, "what silence?"), but things have been especially busy at the day job, my allergies are killing me and wah-wah-wah I need a big ol' towel so I'll have something to cry in. Let's talk comics!

Agents of Atlas #8: Is it me, or is this comic coming out like every two weeks or something? Granted, I'm not complaining. Writer Jeff Parker continues to just nail it with every issue, giving readers what sounds on paper like a ragtag team of misfits but in execution is a tight gang of bad-asses who manage to be happy-go-lucky about the whole "good guys pretending to be bad guys and screwing with Norman Osborn" thing.

Parker is particularly adept at telling stories that feel like done-in-ones but hold onto a thread of story continuity tying each successive issue together. Issue #8 pays off by giving the reader naturally developing team dynamics, quiet references to earlier issues, and of course, the FREAKIN' HULK. And it's nice to see the Agents going into the field without the help of their leader or the seemingly unstoppable M-11, while at the same time Jimmy Woo finally catches up to his past. Oh, and at one point everyone shares a soak in the High Council Hot Tub. It's all good stuff, especially if you've been wondering where the ol' fashioned "SMASH!" version of the Hulk has been hiding. (And can Atlas artist Carlo Pagulayan draw every instance of the Green Goliath from now on? Please?)


Blackest Night #1: I've noticed some squawking around the 'tubes about how violent and gory this first issue of the long-awaited Green Lantern crossover event is and my first reaction to that is — well, you gotta sac up.

Now look, I've complained about writer Geoff Johns' tendency to go overboard with unneccessary bloodshed. Seriously, sometimes that shit's just ridiculous. But in the case of Blackest Night, which for quite a while now has been built up to be a universe-spanning war between the embodiments of all that's best and worst about living beings, it really shouldn't come as any surprise. Plus, it's been well-known that the rise of the Black Lanterns was essentially going to be DC's foray into zombie territory, and guess what? Zombies aren't nice. And they tend to do things like rip people's hearts out.

That said, I was pleasantly surpised by Blackest Night #1. It wasn't as good as last week's Green Lantern #43, but it put all the necessary pieces in place, hit the ground running, and even put an interesting spin on the tired zombie trope. For that matter, it puts an interesting spin on the concept of charging a power ring.

After waiting sooooo long for this story to actually get started, I appreciated that the Black Lantern appearances — while mostly unsurprising — weren't drawn out and weighted down with a lot of overbearing portentousness. It felt like it should have; the sudden and panic-inducing sense that Things Aren't Right and are only going to get worse, and fast.

Artist Ivan Reis, while lacking the sheer, chilling ickiness of Doug Mahnke, ups the creep-factor with some key scenes and brings home some fantastic character redesigns and believable staging. All in all Blackest Night is delivering on some of it's hyped-up promise with this first issue, so it's really up to Johns to make sure it doesn't slip in later chapters.

And for the record? The return of a certain beloved couple and the subsequent beat-down of another (nice mirroring, by the way) that has twisted some knickers here and there? Probably my favorite scenes in the book, precisely because it WAS icky. It's SUPPOSED to be.


Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? #1: I'll need to write something more in depth soon, but for now just let me say that reading this made me feel as if I was experiencing something new for the medium.

Transferring Philip K. Dick's novel word-for-word to comics works better than one might think (even if the art by Tony Parker sometimes seems to have trouble keeping up), and really is a prime example of the old saw about something being more than the sum of its parts. More than an illustrated story, Electric Sheep is an impressive alchemy of art and literature I'm not sure I've ever really seen before: what I do know is I want to see more. Highly recommended.

Reviews: Wednesday Comics hits the tabloids

Don't you love it when some surprisingly good stuff turns up in your comics stack? Me too! Let's take a quick look at some titles that hit the stands this week.

Wednesday Comics #1: Of course, this is the title a lot of people are talking about this week. Printed on a mid-grade, non-glossy paper (think along the lines of a high-grade newsprint), this folded, tabloid anthology draws its inspiration from traditional Sunday comics. And for the most part, it works.

Looking at the cover, I was worried the art and color would be muddier than I'd hoped, but opening it up to the first feature (Batman, by writer Brian Azzarello and artist Eduardo Risso), my first thought was, "Beautiful." On the other hand, those big panels do make me concerned that full-page installments don't necessarily mean readers won't be getting a small overall panel count, and because of that less overall content. (The exception was Ben Caldwell's Wonder Woman, which was cramped and hard to read). And at $3.99 an issue, Wednesday Comics feels a bit more expensive than it should. Still, since the strips are in the spirit of the old-school Sunday funnies, I'm willing to shift gears and go along for the ride.

Favorite features: Paul Pope's Adam Strange, which struck just the right balance between zany adventure and high-concept Golden Age derring-do; and Karl Kerschl and Brenden Fletcher's Flash Comics (especially the clever romance-strip inspired secondary-feature, Iris West — loved it).

Booster Gold #22: This issue was much better than the previous one, which read like an over-extended piece of place-setting. Instead, this time we got a story from writer and artist Dan Jurgens that moves right along and continues to develop a mystery in the middle of all the action. I especially appreciated the way Booster was less mopey and characterized with more intelligence and initiative than before, and there's a brief, one-word exchange that is heartbreaking in the way it sums up the hero's desperate need for acceptance. Throw in some humor and a couple of decent fight scenes, and now I've got a comic I enjoyed and will be looking forward to picking up next month.

The Blue Beetle back-up story was, as usual, a ton of fun. It really feels as if writer Matthew Sturges has found his groove with Beetle, and the story flows naturally with characters that are familiar but not static. The art by Mike Norton is great — energetic and clean — and you can tell both he and Sturges are having fun (there's that word again). And am I the only who hears the Dalek's "Exterminate!" whenever a Unimate says, "Imperfect! Imperfect!" The Blue Beetle universe continues to expand, and it's a treat to watch it develop with every chapter.

Plus, even with all the punching, blasting and exploding going on, Brenda still manages to deliver the cruelest blow of all.

Green Lantern #43: OK, how freaking creepy is Black Hand?! Also, I was really happy to see Doug Mahnke as the regular artist on this title; his work is perfect for the dense, atmospheric tone of Geoff Johns' story, and his talent for expressive characters and detail-packed panels makes this a great-looking comic. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Johns is essentially writing a horror story, and if he can keep up the uneasy tension he achieves in this issue he'll be giving Green Lantern readers a weird, creepy comic tinged with cold menace. I was interested in this crossover before, but now I'm actually eager to see where Johns and Mahnke take it.

Review: Blue Beetle lifts leaden Booster Gold

So have you ever gotten something you know you don't like just because there's one small part of it that you really, really want? Like a crappy burger that comes with awesome fries, or an action figure multipack that has three Luke Skywalkers and one pimpin' Lando?

Well, that's what buying Booster Gold #21 was like for me.

This week's Booster Gold was the first of a handful of DC titles that will begin featuring a back-up story (and an extra buck added to the cover price), which in this case means the return of the recently canceled Blue Beetle. Like other comics I enjoyed and then watched get the ax, Blue Beetle will get new life piggybacking onto another title with a smaller page count but an ongoing story. In that regard, I can't complain too much since it means I sort of get to keep reading a title I didn't think should have been canceled in the first place.

But here's the problem: I stopped reading Booster Gold somewhere around issue #15. The writing (from Chuck Dixon to Rick Remender to current writer/artist — and original Booster Gold creator — Dan Jurgens) became stiff, shifting in tone from fun and creative to surly and convoluted. Story points (Booster still pines for recognition! Booster chafes under Rip Hunter's rules! Rip Hunter has a secret!) were beaten again and again until it was a soft, tasteless mush.

As far as I can tell, nothing new has happened in the last six issues.

Booster Gold #15 reads like a jumping-on story, full of characters filling the readers in on the highlights and putting little sticky tags on everything so we know what a Time Sphere looks like. And honestly, that's fine. Since it's an issue launching a new back-up feature, it makes sense DC would want to ease potential new readers into a story with built-in complications (time travel, y'know). But that doesn't mean it has to be ... well, dull.

In 20 pages of story, nothing really happens. Rip Hunter scowls a lot (who decided he needed to be a grumpy bad-ass, anyway?). And there's the requisite hero-on-hero fight over a misunderstanding. Then the bad guy shows up, promptly disappears and that's pretty much it. I ended up feeling burned because this is exactly the reason I stopped picking up this book in the first place.

But here's the worst part. That Blue Beetle back-up story? It was freakin' great. I'll admit, I was already excited about it (I even read it first, before reading the Booster Gold story), and it didn't disappoint. With a script by Matthew Sturges and art by Mike Norton, Blue Beetle hummed along with the fun, engaging, character-driven vibe that made it a personal favorite when it was a stand-alone title.

I hesitate to say it, but scenes showing the kids posing as reporters, the strain between newly minted couple Paco and Brenda, and a giant robot called THINKO! was nearly worth the $3.99 price tag alone. Which is the sort of thing I'm sure DC would like to hear, since I'm assuming part of the idea behind the back-up stories is finding an outlet for popular characters (who can't seem to carry their own book) while goosing other titles that could probably use the lift.

And it could work, because I'm one of those readers looking forward to following the ongoing adventures of Blue Beetle and his well-rounded cast on a monthly basis — even though it means I'll be buying a comic I otherwise don't enjoy.

In that sense, I guess the joke's on me: I've got my Lando, but I'm also being stuck with all that Luke.

The Rack: Year One (Mostly) — bought and paid for

Won't you do the same?


OK, let me tell you a little bit about The Rack — it is undoubtedly one of the best, and certainly one of my favorite, Web comics out there. Yes, for better or worse, I'm placing the strip by writer Kevin Church and artist Benjamin Birdie on the same shelf I put The Order of the Stick and The Adventures of Dr. McNinja.

You may know Church from his popular blog, and the wit and sense of barely restrained aggression will be familiar to regular readers. But The Rack is much more than you might expect. When it wants to be, the strip can be heart-warming. It's often brutally honest. Sometimes it's bittersweet. And it's always, always funny.

Church has a great ear for dialogue, and it's easy to tell storylines are planned out and character growth has been built in. You quickly learn to care about these people who work at your local comic shop (forgetting, for a second, that the shop and its employees don't really exist).

Birdie's art is equally important to how well the strip works. There have been guest artists over the course of The Rack's run, but it says a lot about the regular artist that — no matter how good the fill-ins are — his work is what the characters are "supposed" to look like. When I think about the strip, it's Birdie's work I see.

It doesn't hurt that he continues to refine his work with each new strip, and the assurance he has with this world he's chronicling is evident. I also like that Birdie's drawings encourage the reader to pay attention — half the jokes are in the background, and the expressions on any given character's face help nail down the rest.

So yeah, basically I'm a fan. And to put it simply, if you like stuff that's good, pick up a copy of The Rack Year One (Mostly).


Disclosure: Kevin Church is what I consider an "Internet buddy," meaning we sometimes exchange e-mails and curse good-naturedly at each other. But that doesn't mean I would buy the book — or encourage someone else to buy it — if I didn't like it. We good? Awesome!

Review: A stumbling start for Flash: Rebirth #1

After reading Flash: Rebirth #1 I'm ... ambivalent.

I'm glad to see Barry Allen back in the DCU, and for the most part Geoff Johns seems to have a handle on Barry's sense of duty and responsibility. But — as was mentioned in some recent comments — Johns has a seemingly growing obsession with the Silver Age as well as the increasingly in-continuity future laid out in Kingdom Come (originally an Elseworlds story).

He can lay in on pretty thick, which is the reason I stopped reading his Justice Society of America. And I don't know if it's my own paranoia or not, but I got the same sense of relentless nostalgia from parts of Flash: Rebirth #1. There are references and asides a reader would need a strong knowledge of Flash history to understand, and I can't help but see hints of Kingdom Come in the story.

In Kingdom Come Wally West is the Flash who is constantly moving, always running after melding with the Speed Force made his molecules unstable. If you've read Rebirth #1 already, you'll know this sounds familiar but with Barry being the Flash who won't stop, who seems to be connected to the Speed Force in a new way.

Frankly, that's annoying. I'm hoping it's a matter of reading too much into it, but I keep having flashbacks (no pun intended) to Geoff Johns' JSA/Kingdom Come storyline. It is only the first issue, though — I'll be sticking with it to see what direction the story takes.

There were some other, nit-picky stuff that jumped out at me:

• Johns is often chided about is his apparent love of gore, so the blood-spatter on page 3 ended up being a distraction more than anything else. I'm not a prude, but it came across as gratuitous and self-indulgent. And that new (as far as I can tell) backstory for Barry? Even moreso. Doesn't the character have enough tragedy in his background to make him interesting without giving his a traumatic childhood?

• The art by Ethan Van Sciver is great, with detail that informs rather than overwhelms. Hardly anything Van Sciver puts in a panel is static (no pun intended — dammit!), and he brings a heroic-but-human sensibility to Flash. But man, what's with all the Flash-lightning? Is it just me, or does it remind anyone else of the way Todd McFarlane would draw Spider-Man's webbing? Seriously, that lightning effect is getting waaaaay out of hand.

I did enjoy the banter between Barry Allen and Hal Jordan, and one thing I really liked — it might be my favorite part of the whole issue — is Bart Allen's scene. In it he's at the Teen Titan Tower grousing and basically tells his teammates, "Barry Allen, Schmarry Allen; who cares? Wally's the real Flash."

Because that's another way to read this issue: It not only reintroduces the characters and puts the pieces in place for the coming storyline, but it's also very, very meta. It's a fairly clever and gentle way of acknowledging the hand-wringing fanbase, and in a weird way it gives me some hope for the future of Flash.

Has anyone else read Flash: Rebirth #1? Let me know what you thought of it in the comments.

Reviews: A messy end for Blue Beetle

Things have been busy at work the last few days, which is why posting has slowed to a crawl lately (NOT THAT I BLOG FROM WORK). Hell, I haven't even been able to read all of the comics I got this week. I have managed to squeeze in a few though, so here are a few quick thoughts on some of this week's books:

Blue Beetle #36: This was the last issue of the now-canceled series, and instead of crossing the finish line with arms raised in triumph, it more or less staggered with a noticeable limp. You can't really fault writer Matthew Sturges, though; the obviously compacted and rushed issue blew by plot points and ideas likely meant to be explored more fully across several storylines, and it's easy to get the feeling he was trying to get as much out there as he could before the door closed on the title.

It's a shame Sturges won't be able to more fully flesh out the future of Blue Beetle as a rapidly maturing young superhero now touched by tragedy, because I think he would have some interesting stories to tell. Instead we have to be satisfied with a pretty big clue about who probably becomes the future Black Beetle and an ambiguous ending to what had been one of the better superhero comics on the rack.

Green Lantern #38: Well, it seems pretty obvious Hal's going to end up wearing a ring from every corps there is before this story is through — and I'm OK with that. It seems a little contrived (just like Carol joining the Star Sapphires ... again), but seeing Hal go through dramatic Wolf-Man-like transformations while his uniform turns into a patchwork quilt is so Silver Age goofy it's fun.

I still don't get the whole blood-rage-vomit thing (and I'm not sure how I feel about basically the same effect being used for Scar's Black Lantern tears o' death), but I'm trying to ignore it in favor of electric chair-Sinestro and flying elephant men.


Umbrella Academy #4 (vol. 2): This comic amazes me every issue with its ability to make me like it even more than I did the month before. Weird, clever and smart, Umbrella Academy is also gleefully violent and action-packed (even when nothing is really going on besides people standing in a room talking). I especially like how smart this title is, unraveling some horrible mystery you both dread and welcome because, dammit, how's it going to end?!

Say what you will about his band, but it has nothing to do with this comic; Gerard Way is writing a great book here, with characters you care about and an outcome you become fully invested in. And the art by Gabriel Ba? If I could I would eat it, it's that good. This is currently one of my favorite books, and you should be reading it. (preview)

Unknown Soldier #5: Brutal, unrelenting and a damn-near perfect war book about a war that's gone largely unnoticed by most people. Writer Joshua Dysart has updated the Unknown Soldier character by putting him in the middle of 2002 Uganda — a country that has spent years tearing itself apart with violence, corruption and atrocity — and making him a product of that battered and blood-caked nation.

It works incredibly well, and a reader can tell Dysart is using his story to both entertain and educate (his monthly background essays on Uganda's strife should be required reading). This title is mean in all the right ways. Likewise, the frenetic art by Alberto Ponticelli has that "Vertigo" style to it, but it completely suits the characters and the chaotic tone of the script. Since he's drawing a character who is fast becoming a bogeyman of war, it's appropriate that his Unknown Soldier is scary as hell.

Review: Pinning down Blue Beetle

Reading Blue Beetle #35 is, ultimately, a frustrating experience.

The issue kicks off a new storyline by Matthew Sturges, who officially took over from original writer John Rogers with issue #29, and introduces some of the fallout from Jaime Reyes' epic back-and-forth with would-be alien conquerors the Reach. Reprogrammed Beetle soldiers have come to Earth with a new mission and, they hope, will leave with a new leader. All Jaime and his friends want to do is go to their high school dance.

The storyline is interesting, it's fun and basically hits a lot of the beats that helped Blue Beetle find a loyal audience in the first place. Things move along at a nice clip while still finding the time to put new plot points in place, and the whole thing is peppered with the kind of casually snappy dialogue that has become a hallmark of this title. There are even some small steps toward development for some of the characters who've been orbiting a little further out on the edge of Blue Beetle's already excellent extended cast.

It's pretty clear Sturges has really hit his stride with the issue, bringing his own sensibility to the title and also tapping into the pure, playful fun that makes this comic so appealing. Blue Beetle #35 manages that magical little trick every comic tries to pull off — it leaves you looking forward to the next issue, and the issue after that.

And that's incredibly frustrating since the next issue is also the last issue for this consistenly solid, charming and deceptively complex series.

The character of Jaime Reyes as the Blue Beetle has built up some popularity, and it's certainly getting a push on the younger readers front with appearances in the new Batman: The Brave and The Bold and Tiny Titans comics, not to mention the B&B cartoon — hopefully this will mean some sort of life for the character after the series ends.

Still, it will be a shame because guest appearances or supporting roles in group books won't make up for the loss of a title that showcased a teen-aged superhero who acted first and foremost like a teenager. It can only be guessed that the end of Blue Beetle also means the end of the fantastic supporting characters, including Jaime's fully fleshed-out best friends, his supportive family, a sweet and sorcerous girlfriend, even his crazy roster of villains.

At least Blue Beetle #35 gives readers a next-to-last look at what made this book a favorite. Even without the work of usual artist Rafael Albuquerque — artists Carlo Barberi and Jacob Eguren alternate between dynamic and flat, particularly where facial features come into play — the issue has a sense of movement and place and, along with the scripting, puts you where you need to be; in the moment.

Unfortunately, Blue Beetle's moment is almost over, but regular readers should be sure to see it through to the end, and new readers should see what they've been missing by picking up the trades.

Review: Learning to love The Age of the Sentry

I'm a big enough man to admit when I'm wrong.

I don't like it, but I can do it. And in the case of The Age of the Sentry — in particular issue #3, which was released this week — I have to admit that my long-standing disdain for the character has been broken. The Age of the Sentry is just ... well, really good.

With writing by personal favorite Jeff Parker, a second story by Paul Tobin, and art from both Nick Dragotta and Colleen Coover, Age of the Sentry is, in a word, charming. And it's the best kind of charm, managing to avoid being cloying or precious and instead treating readers to light-hearted adventure that isn't dumbed down. It's nice to see some writers and artists know you can be silly without being stupid, and that keeping things straightforward doesn't mean sacrificing story.

Meant as a look at the hero's early adventures, the stories in Age of the Sentry are love letters to the Golden and Silver ages of comics, with unapologetic nods to the past of both Marvel and DC. By keeping things playful, the creative teams touch on these elements without being weighed down by them; a deep knowledge of continuity is definitely not needed to enjoy the book. The scripts — covering everything from a hillbilly powerhouse, a shotgun wedding for the Sentry, wonderfully ridiculous use of superpowers, and a lovelorn Manoo getting dating advice from Millie the Model — are a pleasure to read, and reminded me of how much I love the pure fun that's unique to comics.

It's easy to tell that the creators are having fun, too. Dialogue is a perfect echo of the period in comics it's trying to evoke, but with a subtle wink at the hyperbole that was typical of the time. Scenarios are wacky in the best sense of the word, and it all just shows a lot of heart.

The styles of artists Dragotta and Coover are very different, but they share a quality of being simple without being simplistic, and both are well-suited to the stories they're telling. Coover's art, in particular, is just freakin' adorable, and both artists helped draw me in. Add to all this the little in-jokes and asides like the recurring "E.E." initials, the "Design submitted by ..." caption boxes in the Millie story, and too many others to do justice to here, and you've got a comic that will appeal to anyone with a soul.

Considering my history with the Sentry, I can't believe I'm saying this — wholeheartedly, at that — but The Age of the Sentry is a comic you shouldn't miss. Get it.

Review: Kull #1 might be the most metal thing I've ever read

OK, seriously? Kull #1 is just awesome.

AWESOME.

Alright, now that I've gotten that out of my system, grab a flagon of your favorite beverage, put on some mood music and prepare to hold the hell on because Kull does not screw around.

Mining the Robert E. Howard library one more time, Dark Horse has now completed its sword-and-sorcery, hard-men-in-hard-worlds hat trick by adding barbarian king Kull alongside its Conan and Solomon Kane titles. And I think I can say with nearly full confidence that this new series is already shaping up to be the best of the lot.

This isn't to take away from either title — both are excellent books, and I'm especially enjoying Solomon Kane. But Kull ... holy crap! Arvid Nelson's story starts off in the middle of the siege of the Iron Fortress — where some anti-Kull holdouts have dug in — and quickly spins off into treachery, full-on battle, a demon you have to see for yourself, hints of dark secrets, and then more treachery!

This book is packed fat with action, and it all serves to move the story forward. It's not an empty plot, either, and it looks as if there will be plenty of court intrigue to go with the swordplay.

The art by Will Conrad fits in with what's been done in Solomon Kane and Conan, and helps tie in the whole Howardverse idea Dark Horse seems to be putting together. More importantly, it's just gorgeous to look at, giving as much weight to the characterization and tone as the dialogue. If there was any doubt that Kull is a bad-ass, just take a look at some of Conrad's work, especially the fantastic splash pages which include an impressively majestic two-page spread. When I went back through the issue to count the number of splash pages, I was surprised there were only two — the art (notably assisted by José Villarrubia's colors) makes that much of an impact.

Thanks to that art, and the pitch-perfect scripting, Kull #1 has already put the series high on my must-have list.

Review: El Diablo #3

DC has been giving new life to some of its older characters for a while now, and Western hero El Diablo is the latest to be resurrected from the four-color graveyard. These kinds of updates are notoriously hit-or-miss, but overall I've been digging the new series written by Jai Nitz (with pencils by Phil Hester and inks from Ande Parks), and this week's El Diablo #3 is no exception.

At the heart of the action is Chato, a recently cursed gang leader and the newest Diablo who is trying to get even with the former right-hand man who betrayed him. Aided by a ghostly Lazarus Lane (the original El Diablo), Chato essentially tramples and shoots his way through the L.A. underworld in search of revenge.

I think Chato has a lot of potential as a complex character, and in this issue Nitz has done a good job of laying out a lot of the groundwork for exploring that. It's worth remembering that Chato was a hardcore criminal before becoming El Diablo and he definitely is an anti-hero here, doing things mostly out of a need to satisfy his own desire for blood and killing anybody in his way. I'm curious to see what direction he's going to take after the new status quo established in this issue, especially in terms of what he plans to do with his power in the future.

As it stands, Chato is nearly a sociopath, killing without a second-thought, and that's featured pretty clearly in the opening pages of issue #3. That doesn't bother me, but I think Nitz has a choice to make here: Either Chato needs something to humanize him, or the creators should just go all the way with it and let El Diablo be an otherworldly spirit of vengeance.

Personally, I like that the creators are taking things in a thoroughly modern, non-stop and ruthless direction. And man, was there a lot of story for one issue! It almost bordered on crowded with everything that was going on, but the story moves along at a relentless clip and never feels bogged down or confused. Hester's artwork — angular and energetic — works well with the storyline and captures the intensity of the action. Add in the subplot, a nemesis and a newly introduced villain and I wonder: How the hell are they going to wrap it up in the three issues that are left?

And as I mentioned in a previous blog post, I like this New West thing going on in the DCU. Between El Diablo, Blue Beetle and Manhunter (still can't believe that was canceled), some new avenues for stories with a different spin have been opened up. I like the idea that El Diablo — a tortured, Latino, paraplegic hero from L.A. — could be a part of that.

You should be reading: The Garden by Jim Doom

The guys over at Doomkopf participated in this year's 24 Hour Comics Day, and I just have to say — Jim Doom hit it out of the park with The Garden.

The art is clean and expressive, while the writing is straightforward and keeps the story moving without skimping on characterization. I was impressed by Jim's fun, dark and ultimately bittersweet story, and halfway through I thought, "Man, I would buy the hell out of this if it was an ongoing."

Seriously, it's good stuff so go check it out and let Jim know what you think (and check out everyone else's contributions while you're at it — it ain't easy, people!).

Panel from The Garden
Jim Doom, story and art

Blue Beetle en Español: El gran experimento

As an experiment, the all-Spanish Blue Beetle #26 works.

People are talking about it, which is good for the unfairly struggling title, and the story by Jai Nitz keeps the focus on what's special about Blue Beetle — the character's family and friends. The artwork by Mike Norton is fun and expressive, and I wouldn't have a problem with him doing the book on a permanent basis if regular artist Rafael Albuquerque dropped out for some unholy reason (please don't drop out for some unholy reason, Rafael Albuquerque).

It is a fill-in issue, though, and it feels like it. The story's light, and a lot of stuff is glossed over: What was Parasite, who's normally a Superman foil, doing in El Paso? Did he target the Posse on purpose, or did he just stumble across them?

Regardless, it's not holes in the plot that's got people talking — it's the español.

I've talked about the use of Spanish in Blue Beetle before, but I should be clear about something; my Spanish is what could be called "not so great." Like a lot of second and third generation Latinos in the United States, I learned English as my native language because my parents didn't want me to struggle like they did. (Dad would be beaten for speaking Spanish in school, even in conversation, and that was in the '50s.) Add a grandmother who wanted to practice her English instead of teaching the kids Spanish like she was supposed to, Grandma, and you have a Latino who doesn't speak the language nearly as well as he should.

Still, I was able to read Blue Beetle #26 without much trouble, though there were a few words here and there that threw me off. With that in mind, I called in an expert opinion — my wife. Since she's originally from Mexico City, was raised in Juarez, and has worked professionally in both the Spanish- and English-language media and as an English/Spanish translator, I figured she might know what she was talking about.

And as soon as she picked it up she looked at the cover and said, "'Destrailló?' What's that mean?"

Not a good sign for El Escarabajo Azul.

It turns out Kevin's customer was right; the Spanish isn't very good. Like a lot of media going from English into Spanish, the problem's with the translation. It's technically correct, but as my wife put it, "It's clunky. It's almost a literal translation, like it was done by someone whose native language is English but who also knows some Spanish. You can 'hear' that the phrase was in English first."

In other words, people who speak Spanish wouldn't talk like that. The thing that jumped out at my wife was the scene (page 9, panel 2) where Jaime's abuelita tells him to "make us proud," but the way the line is phrased in Spanish actually comes across as (roughly), "make us prideful." There's a subtle but important difference there. Someone who speaks English and Spanish would probably understand what was meant, but someone who primarily speaks Spanish might be confused by that wording.

For my part, I had a problem with inaccuracies in the text. There are parts here and there that just made me say, "But that's not what he said!" once I read the script provided in English. None of it is really anything that impacts the story, but I don't feel it's fair to readers who don't speak a language to get sloppy with the translation.

For example, when Jaime meets some cousins (I'm guessing) at the family cook-out, this is what they say (5.1):


According to the translation, the first kid asks, "Why don't you have a ride?" But what he actually says is, "Why don't you have a car?" And then the second kid ends his little dig with, "You suck." (Again, according to the translation). But the phrase "te sales" would actually be used to say "you've gone too far" — the closest approximation I can think of in English would be "what's up with that?" If you wanted to say someone sucked you'd call them "sangron," which literally means something along the lines of "bloodsucker" (yeah, Spanish slang is weird) but in this context would basically mean "one who sucks."

Anyway, there are examples like that throughout the issue, and again it's nothing that affects the story, but it does affect the tone of the dialog and the feel of the story itself. I was also sorry that there was almost no slang in this issue, because brother, El Pasoans love them some Spanish slang. No slang? Chale, güey!

One more thing: I was disappointed to see Traci basically pushed off-stage in favor of the by-the-numbers dust-up with Parasite. I would have been a lot more interested in seeing more of Traci interacting with Jaime's family, and how everyone dealt with the language barrier. It would've been nice to see Jaime explain to Traci what it's like living in a border city, too, so I think an opportunity to flesh out Blue Beetle's background was missed.

All this sounds nit-picky and fairly negative, but I still enjoyed this issue and I like the title as much as ever. And I really have to give credit to DC for Blue Beetle #26: It wasn't perfect (what comic is?), but the important thing was that it was done at all. The Spanish-language issue was a low-risk experiment that brought some attention to a book that needs it, and it reaches out to a mostly ignored and untapped U.S. market; hopefully, regular readers will see it as a chance to experience something a little different and have fun with it. Best of all, the issue moved the overall story forward, even if it was just a little.

All in all, I'd call that a success. Even if the cover blurb should have said, "El Parásito Desatado!"