2/25/12

Army of Darkness #1:

Since I DO have pictures of the covers of the comics I, uh, COVER, let’s talk about Tim Seeley’s artwork here for a moment. Our heroine is very sexy and reasonably human shaped, not MANY humans look like that but she’s well within the realm of physical possibility. And what’s more, they beef-cake Ash out too. Eye-candy for everyone? It pales in comparison to a realistic depiction of the human anatomy for everyone but I’ll take what I can get.

Eliott R. Serrano’s script follows Ash from the Army Of Darkness film, but instead we have a woman named Ashley in Ash’s shoes. Changing the hero to a heroine isn’t a trick used often outside of fan-art and fan-fic and it usually turns out horribly and as sexist as physically possible. Not here though.

Ashley and her boyfriend Brad go out parking one night when a meteor strikes near them. The shining sphere in the crater turns Brad into a deadite (read zombie for those of you uninitiated in the Evil Dead series.) while it grants Ashley some groovy powers.

Ash does show up, in word only, but we are assured he will be a major part of the story. Ashley is a no-nonsense girl and without her male counterpart to throw in some guffaws, we are temporarily given an insect-man who seems to be channeling Ted Raimi at his worst. I don’t want to give too much of the plot away but Ashley insinuates herself as a court magician for Cleopatra when all hell breaks loose. A mysterious robed figure wants Ashley and Ash to form an alliance as this will help bring about some nefarious plan. (and hints that there have been or are more “chosen ones” like our hero and heroine.)

I praised the cover but Marat Mychaels’ interior art is less stellar. Ashley is a bit more “dreamy” than in Seely’s work but still anatomically possible. I am pleased that we only have one gratuitous butt shot. It’s really not that bad and my main beef with it is that you never see, say Superman, get the same treatment. If we must provide fodder for comic fans’ hormones let’s at least be equal opportunity about it.

This book is good, not damn good, but good. I’ve subscribed at my local comic shop and if you’re looking for my recommendation let me just say: “Hail to the (Queen) baby!”

Gobs #4

I shed a tear because it’s over. This is the final issue of the Gobs mini-series, drawn, inked and written by Richard Moore. (There is far and away a disproportionate number of comic creators with this sir-name. Are they all descended from the same ancient Irish master bard?)

The story centers around Gretch’, a bespectacled half-“Gob” or Goblin and her best friend/crush Milo, who is a mere quarter Gob. The pair, along with their friends, are banned for life from an elf bar due to the Gob race’s reputation as reprobates. (Of course, Wiggy and Truffle, having torn up the place and having “made sweet love” to a moose-head, didn’t exactly help matters.)

With the aide of shapely elf maiden Heather, they decide to build their own pub. Despite Gretch’s misgivings the new establishment is constructed inside a petrified giant’s carcass. When the house security system is accidentally activated, the giant goes on a rampage.

This is all aside from the tale of Gretch’s lovelorn angst. Milo has his eye on Heather and the more Gretch’ tries to lure his mind away, the more his mind stays on the elf. (Whose measurements appear to be in the 36-11-36 range.)

This book is 50% sketches and advertising and the end is not as satisfying as I’d hoped, but you’d be remiss not to hunt down this charming, whimsical, saucy, and hysterical small-press gem. This great mini is proof that if you’ve just been reading the “big two” publishers you’re missing out on a whole multiverse of comics to your own detriment.

Late, late, for a very important blog.

You know what it’s like. A self-imposed deadline and the days just drip away into the paper cup of procrastination. (Apparently all this time hasn’t affected my penchant for over-writing.)

Well let’s get right to it. I’m sure my millions (read couples) of fans are dying for this week’s installment of Gonzo’s Dressing Room.

Secret Avengers #22:

A whole new story-line, a whole new creative team and new members. I’m not as interested in that as seeing an Arthur Adams cover. I’d gladly fork over $3.99 if this book were blank inside.

The story opens in Pakistan where, predictably, an Islamic terrorist attack is about to occur. Really? A cliche on page one? Are we to believe that EVERY village in the Muslim world is crawling with Jihadis? Why don’t we ever get a comic about Yusuf Islam or Benazir Bhutto? Writer Rick Remender doesn’t even bother translating “Allah is Great” into Punjabi for us. Thanks for TRYING to bring some locational flavor to the table.

Anyway, returning from my rant, a young mother with child in arms, shrinks from an incendiary explosive blast and swallows it: but then loses control and levels a much wider area with the energies she has absorbed into her body. The terrorist leader knocks her out with the butt of his rifle and drags her off.

Next we are shown four locations around the globe where some kind of super-powered sleeper agents are activated spouting quasi-religious babble. It’s meant to sound cosmic and sinister but comes off as nonsense. If you want this kind of dialogue get Jim Starlin of the Infinite Gauntlet or Dan Abnet’s Thanos Imperative.

Next we travel to England where Captain Britain is protecting The Queen from a giant monster made of people controlled by psychic villain, Riot. We miss out on a discussion of social issues here. I know this comic packs a lot in but lines like, “While we lower class wretches go hungry, the queen and her pigs feed at the trough of decadence.” and “I understand the frustration of the people...but you’re using their misfortune to further YOUR cause, not theirs.” demands further attention. (Maybe it’s just that I’ve been listening to too much Chumbawamba but I’m feeling rather pro-working-class revolution lately.)

Next we discover the strangest yet coolest conceit of the book; that there are over a thousand parallel realities, each of which is defended from inter-dimensional dangers by the Captain Britain of every world. I freely admit this is a great idea. Why Cap Britain though? Did someone lay off Man-Thing? Does Alan Moore know?

Captain Britain is next transported aboard a satellite by Captain America who asks him to join the titular Secret Avengers. Here he meets the team he expects to lead: Beast, Ant-Man, Valkyrie and Black Widow. Things are going well and Captain Britain begins his “taking the reigns speech” when he is shot in the mouth by a bubblegum arrow. Hawkeye is in attendance and HE has been selected by Steve Rogers to lead the team. Giving the lead position in a barely functional team to the wisecracking bravo is sure to be a popular decision with readers and by it’s pure surface stupidity is sure to lead to some interesting stories.

As far as grasping the soul of the characters goes, Remender does stunningly well with Beast. Hank McCoy is a stunningly complex character and portraying him well is a major challenge. I have a particular soft spot for Beast so when I say he’s being used well, he’s truly being used spectacularly. Unfortunately the ladies are static cardboard cutouts. I’d refer you to Feminist Frequency and the Bechdel Test clip in particular but I think if I link you to it, showing you around seven minutes of a woman with highly phallic and yonic earrings discussing the lack of fully realized women characters in movies, I’d lose virtually my entire readership. At least when Valkyrie and Black Widow DO talk it’s to ridicule Hawkeye and Cap Britain on acting like squabbling little boys.

The group scrambles to the terrorists’ lair where our four villains have congregated to acquire the Pakistani woman for unknown nefarious purposes. A top notch seven page battle ensues but the bad guys get away. This leads to the final page; the page that has hooked me on this comic and will guarantee you hear about it again on this blog.

Lady Deathstrike stands at the foot of an oval table, a gaunt old man sits at the head surrounded by what appears to be a caped Sentinel, Vision, a bionic Wasp, a female android, Red Skull, Nick Fury and Doctor Doom. This leader of leaders has a warning for the Secret Avengers: “They will find us. We will kill some of them. The event will begin.”

2/10/12

Hawk and Dove #6:

Yes. I will openly admit this comic is utter dreck. But you see, I first cut my teeth as a comic fan on Iron Man in the late eighties and settled into a one title for life complacency. Then one day in 1991, my best friend ran to my house with the newest coolest thing: X-Force #1. Rob Liefeld’s art spoke to my jaded, grungeish sensibility. I was ten years old damn it, time for kick-ass comics, time for edgy comics, time for “REAL” comics. My formative years were full of daydreams about being rescued by Domino or eviscerated by Feral. (I’ve always liked strong women. I never cared if beating me up or even killing me outright was within their power.) I still have a weak spot for Liefeld’s art, even though he’s one of the more egregious “women don’t look like that” offenders. This would be well and good but for the chilling fact that Rob also WRITES this thing.

In the first story arc, Hawk and Dove get the dodgy “how much backstory still exists” treatment. We know that our heroes have been given extra-human powers by the “gods” in order to be the “Avatar of War” and the “Avatar of Peace” receptively but apparently the original Dove (original Hawk, Hank Hall’s little brother) is dead. The new female Dove, Dawn Granger’s, backstory is almost completely ignored aside from the fact that she is still in the romantic relationship with Deadman that started in the Brightest Day mini-series.

Presumably as a desperate plea for more readers, Liefeld has awkwardly crammed Batman and Robin into the current issue. Hawk has been on the trail of Incredible Hulk wannabe villain, Blockbuster. Only, Hank is the one on the run. (Apparently being the Avatar of War only allows you to stand a ghost of a chance against your adversary during the final battle.)

We get some great drawings of Dove (one of my favorite DC characters) and some so-so Batman art but the secret mastermind, or rather mistressmind of Blockbuster’s crime spree looks like she was designed by me back in Liefeld’s aforementioned heyday. (Yes I used the word “mistressmind”. This is my blog and no one ever told me I can’t invent words.)

To spare you unimaginable mental torture, I will quote Hawk only once to give you an idea of the Dickensian, nay Shakespearian brilliance of Rob’s scripting talents: “You’re definitely up past your bedtime, boy blunder, I’d be HAPPY to put you down for the night-”.

While Bats and Dove try to keep Hawk and Robin’s testosterone addled egos in check, the four heros trace down Blockbuster and a stolen amulet to the Gotham docks where a sorceress ingeniously named Necromancer is on the verge of attaining unheard of levels of power. A brief fight ensues, Dove retrieves the amulet, breaking Necromancer’s spell, the villainess escapes, Batman lectures Hank and Dawn on teamwork and everyone goes there separate ways; Batman and Robin to excellent sales figures and Hawk and Dove to another lousy story-line.

As a glutton for punishment, and because I really like Dove’s costume and hair, I will stick by the train-wreck of a comic. (Dawn IS supposedly gifted with unknown powers beyond those given to any Avatar of Peace in the past and IS Hank’s physical and mental superior in every way.)

Magic the Gathering #1:

Dack Fayden is your typical dashing thief trope, popular with the ladies but VERY unpopular with anyone in possession of a nice shiny magical item to steal. (Think a bad-ass version of Disney’s Aladdin.) Dack however, is a “planewalker”, a being with the magical ability to traverse the multiple dimensions of the comic setting’s world; it does hurt mind you. “Like falling off a log. In EVERY direction at once.”

We meet Fayden as he is running from a band of mercenary style soldiers, lead by a beast that from my Dungeon and Dragons: Dragonlance days, I would call a Draconian. (For you 4th editioners, think a particularly tough Dragonborn.) Dack continues his escape for thirteen break-neck pages until he finds a friendly elderly woman healer and flops to one of his scattered safe-houses. Using his mystical abilities he attempts to discover whatever valuable power his latest artifact may hold. It is a “knife”, but such an unwieldy looking weapon it must be designed for torture.

Concentrating his abilities, Dack sees memories of the blade’s last user. It is in his home-town of Drakston (a name that conjures themes of darkness and dragons as well as sounding like Braxton, Missouri.) where a mysterious woman named Sifa assassinates Drak’s love, Mariel. It might be “part of my job” Sifa says, “but oh, the benefits. (Is she growing younger by spilling the blood of innocents? The hint is so minor that I might just be reading into things. I guess we’ll see.) Drak decides it is time for vengeance and walks off into the night, dragons circling overhead.

This comic demands to be read very quickly, to keep pace with the planewalker’s life and thoughts. Martin Coccolo’s art is only so-so, but J. Edwin Steven’s color work is masterful. It renders mood that would take paragraphs of exposition on every page by varying the hue tinging each set of panels. As for Matt Forbeck’s writing, it’s just too early to tell, but I’ll be happy to go on the ride to find out.

The Defenders #3:

I’m sorry, I just had to. I needed to know how this story-line ended. Amongst the nonsensical cosmic babbling and desperate attempts at humor, our heroes do nothing; almost literally nothing. Red She-Hulk attacks the Black Hulk Nul the Breaker of Worlds and the rest of the crew pile on and can’t make a dent in the unimaginable force of destruction. Nul then breaks Rulkie’s “unbreakable red skin”. Nul, for no apparent reason, is trying to destroy a machine that apparently keeps reality functioning. (Think Thanos trying to kill the universe but instead every POSSIBLE universe.) The looming end of all reality, yep, that’s something to handle in three issues.

Amidst all this brooding and battling, a lone figure, very mythical and Jack Kirby New God-esque, sits motionless and we hear his thoughts. They clear up nothing and make no sense but are pretty and epic-sounding. This “other Prestor” simply touches the Black Hulk and he vanishes out of existence. “ He is erased.”

Heavy stuff? Then why pray tell do we get the now-famous tweet-like messages at the bottom of the page such as, “What if it’s not just a canker sore” and “Hey that tiger is flying a spaceship”. (If you’re missing the punctuation, I just wrote the quotes as is. I guess Matt Fraction thinks he’s beyond the rules of the English language.)

If this weren’t all bad enough the narrator ANSWERS one of Iron Fist’s questions to segue into further exposition! “Funny you should ask, Danny.”

The exercise in futility of reading this title is over. Call me if J. M. DeMatteis takes the reins of this thing.

The Perils of Being a Male Feminist Comic Fan

Comic books are potentially the most misogynistic of all art forms. (Possibly including adult entertainment, at least men are objectified there too.) So what is a modern male to do? There can often be a thin line between sexy and demeaning. The latest Catwoman books are quite simply appalling on many pages, while Red Sonya, who wears much less clothing than Catwoman, can be attractive to men and empowering to women. (Although an infuriatingly large minority of the time she is not.)

The simple fact remains that women in spandex, as well as MEN in spandex, are sexy. Both male and female fans usually have that one character that makes their heart go pitter-pat. (For those of you keeping score, mine is She-Hulk.) A great deal of the problem lies in intent. Sex sells and whether we like it or not, most of the comic industry is still targeted to 13-30 year old males. Francine can pose for Katchoo’s nude painting in Strangers in Paradise and it’s O.K. It serves the dual functions of art and love, besides Terry Moore draws WOMEN not what a high school freshman might WANT women to be.

Let’s delve into two extremes of how comics deal with female characters for more insight. (And because, after all, this IS a comic review blog!)

Tiny Titans #48:

Anyone who finds the little cartoony girls in Tiny Titans sexy needs a serious psychological evaluation. This comic, ostensibly for kids, just isn’t meant to deal with themes that mature. Yet at least half the cast is female and those girls are strong, funny, and in the case of Raven in particular, well rounded. Tiny Titans may have won an Eisner for best kids’ comic, but a LOT of the subject matter sends winks to complicated comic themes and errata that no child could possibly grasp. This issue deals with secret identities. On the very first full page, Batgirl decides to show her super heroine friends her unmasked face. Even though they know her as Barbara, they are still shocked. One even comments that they never noticed her red hair before. Wonder Girl hops into the panel and feels bad that she is the only member of the assembled girls WITHOUT red hair. To compensate she shows them her orange, her “Secret Orange”. I hope you don’t think I believe my readership consists of simpletons if I point out the “Secret Origin” reference.

The girls proceed to “Barbara’s secret bat-lair” to try on retro costumes. (Think of the massive, and massively confusing, ret-con campaign the new 52 has launched.) Babs, as does almost every character in the series, has an autographed portrait of DC head Dan Didio in her room. (What 8-year-old is going to get THAT reference?)

Wonder Girl is later playing with Zatara and decides that her orange is part of the “Secret Oranges of the Justice League”, putting Clark Kent glasses on it. (See I TOLD you it was a secret origin reference!) A bit later we get a two-page spread of the Secret Oranges and the seminal sight-gag background characters “The League of Just Us Cows.” This is where the only-adults-will-get-it content comes in with gusto. The Secret Orange is now an Orange Lantern with an Orange power ring. Yet it is not alone, it has brought the “Lantern Core,” an arrangement of fruit bearing Lantern Spectrum rings in their respective color including a mostly masticated Red Lantern apple. It looks like curtains for the Just Us Cows until Batcow Beyond shows up to turn the tide. But lo, the evil orange Slade and evil red grapefruit Trigon have been influencing the produce section do-gooders with their mind control box. Art Batazar and the single-named Franco have written themselves into a corner and in good comedic form, it turns out to be just Wonder Girl’s dream. (And she’s wearing a Donna Troy costume to compound the old school goodness.)

Have I strayed far from my original topic? Are you feeling safe to go back into the comic book racks? Well I’ve saved a nasty surprise for the second part of my review.

Nancy in Hell on Earth #1

This comic is were we really get into trouble. Nancy is a B-movie bad-girl on par with no one else. This buxom blond with a dark purple streaked tress carries around a chainsaw and wears daisy dukes that approach being more of a band-aid than an article of clothing. Check out the cover, are they expecting us to gaze upon her posterior through a magnifying glass? It seems like artist Enrique Lopez Lorenzana already has.

In the previous mini-series, Nancy has been murdered and wound up in Hell. There she meets Lucifer, who is merely a misunderstood suffering soul who is still very devout and loves his father, God. They attempt to escape the underworld despite Lucifer’s insistence that God’s punishment of him is just and that he must simply await eventual forgiveness that he doesn’t deserve anyway. After facing hordes of demons that Nancy cuts to ribbons wit her trusty ol’ chainsaw, they exit Hell into the everyday realm. However, we learn that it was all a scheme by a would-be demon prince to bring Hell to Earth and thus gain favor with the true power behind the realm of eternal suffering.

In this issue we have huge demonic beats running rampant throughout the city. (It appears to be L.A.) When Nancy and Lucifer are separated temporarily a succubus in the shape of our heroine attempts to seduce the devil in a short sequence that is wildly inappropriate and more fitting on expanded cable at 2 am than in a comic book.

To make a long review short, El Torres’ script is actually quite well done and, in very small doses, gratuitous cheesecake can be an enjoyable thing. Hence, the perils of being a male feminist comic fan.

I leave you with two images, both done by men, of their ideal portrayal of Wonder Woman.

http://johnbecaro.deviantart.com/gallery/26904292#/d2ainha

http://kinggoji62.deviantart.com/gallery/?offset=264#/d2962kx

There is a mixed bag out there, and as long as one is mature and doesn’t allow the objectification of women by the comic industry to lead to complacency or (shudder) acceptance of the practice and wields true judgment there is little to fear in comic-land. (Just don’t let children or the elderly NEAR the Suicide Girls comic!)