In Memoriam: Paul Ryan 1949-2016.

I received word that Paul Ryan passed away at the office today, and I spent the rest of the work day in a daze. I couldn't process it. I thought I would have more time, that I'd get the chance to meet him at a convention, shake his hand and thank him for the hard work he put into the comics of my youth. It's strange to be so affected by the death of a man I never met, but in a very real way Ryan had a hand in shaping some of my favorite comics and thus had easily as much impact on my life as Christopher Reeve, Jim Henson, and Leonard Nimoy.

Erik Larsen once posited that there are certain characters that become yours as you grow from a kid who reads comics into a comicbook fan. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Spider-Man, these are the giants. They're untouchable, and my relationship with Superman as a character is part of the bedrock of my psyche. But Superman belongs to the world, or at least so it seemed. Some characters you find and you feel like it's a discovery. Like it's something only you know about. You develop an affection for the character. He becomes 'yours' in a way that Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman and Spider-Man just can't. For me in my Marvel Comics heyday, that character was Quasar.

 QUASAR was written by the late, great Mark Gruenwald, and he teamed with Paul Ryan in the wake of their excellent collaboration on the 12-part SQUADRON SUPREME series which I'll rave about given any opportunity. Ryan's work had a distinctive style that caught the eye. He wasn't showy or ostentatious, but he could deliver spectacle. He was especially suited for the more cosmic books like QUASAR, FANTASTIC FOUR, and SUPERMAN. He had a style and an attention to detail even in the most fantastic of scenarios that I can only call "pure comics." He never felt like he was phoning it in. He delivered on every issue and he made every character he drew feel alive.

 Picking out a favorite issue is tough, but if I have to pick it's easily LEGENDS OF THE DC UNIVERSE CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS: THE UNTOLD STORY. Written by Marv Wolfman and drawn by Ryan, it's a missing chapter from the epic saga that brought down the curtain on the DC Multiverse (for a while, at least). Ryan's art manages to create a comparable sense of grandeur as George Perez's work on the original CRISIS. The creation of a completely distinct parallel Earth complete with it's own visually distinctive take on the classic  DC Comics' heroes couldn't have been easy either, but Ryan handled it with aplomb and made you feel real sympathy for the heroes of a doomed universe. It's damned impressive and if you can find it in the back issue bins at a convention I highly recommend it.

Ryan also illustrated FANTASTIC FIVE, one of my favorite titles to come out of the MC2 stable of comics: a futuristic take on the World's Greatest Comics Magazine that was at once familiar and fresh at the same time. One day I'll cover the MC2 universe (and it's most famous scion SPIDER-GIRL) later on down the line, but suffice to say FANTASTIC FIVE was my hands-down favorite. You could tell Ryan loved getting to release his inner King Kirby, and it showed in every panel on the book Again, if you can track this series down, do so. It's wonderful stuff.

While the man himself is gone, the quality of his art will stand tall for years to come. I wish I could have met him in person so I could have thanked him for the wonderful body of work. Mr. Ryan, you will be deeply missed.

Let's Roll: ROTTED CAPES.

"They're coming to get you Lois. . ."

  I'm Stacy, and I am a tabletop RPG addict.

 You'd think that without access to a regular gaming group and the time to even engage in roleplaying games I'd wise up and save my hard-earned dollars for something a bit more sensible, like socks or regular tire rotation. But no. Each week invariably finds me at my friendly local games store, browsing through the aisles for a setting to catch my eye and part me from aforementioned cash like Jack from the family cow.

 Those who know me, either from long friendship or from my work on The Fanboy Power Hour (/shameless plug), may have detected a more than partial bias to superhero comics, particularly those of the Silver Age variety. Four-Color superhero worlds with talking monkeys, jetpacks, and diabolical mad scientists out to Take Over The World. . .I eat that sort of thing up like a big ol' bowl of Frosted Flakes on a Saturday morning. But for all that, there is this twisted little part of me that loves to see those heroic archetypes get pulled through the proverbial ringer. Books like IRREDEEMABLE, LEAVING MEGAOPOLIS, THE MIGHTY, and MARVEL ZOMBIES which take those shining symbols of idealism and hope and warp them almost beyond recognition.

 Why yes, I feel fine. Why do you ask?

 Which brings us to ROTTED CAPES, the Post-Apocalyptic Superhero Game of Zombie Survival Horror from Paradigm Concepts.

The scenario is simple enough: a zombie apocalypse takes place on a world that just so happens to be home to a variety of superhuman heroes and villains. Your character is one of the few superhumans remaining in the aftermath of Z-Day, when something happened that changed the world into a nightmare of walking undead horror. Even worse than the standard undead hordes, a number of superheroes and villains were infected by the virus and became z'ed themselves. Intelligent and amoral and in complete possession of their powers, they're stalking you as the undead hordes stalk the people under your protection. Can you keep the enclave of humanity you're working to support safe from the undead, or will you fall in battle and become the horror stalking them in the night? Will you hold on to your ideals or slowly sink into the morass of questionable ethics the world has become? This is the world of ROTTED CAPES.

 Superheroes and Horror can make for a tough balancing act. One the one hand Horror's mission objective is to scare you, to illustrate the world as a stalking ground of terrors and to prove to us that humanity is ultimately insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Superheroes allow us escapism and the hope that we can be better and that we can help each other make the world a better place. From a storytelling perspective tilting the balance too far in either direction will cause one of the elements to become insignifcant. Make things too grim and your players will lose hope, believing they can't make a difference in the face of unrelenting evil. Make things too optimistic and you lose the higher stakes feel that a zombie apocalypse can provide. One of the ways the game works to balance the issue is to ensure your characters are 'b-list' superheroes. Simply put, you're not Superman or The Mighty Thor. You're more like Black Lightning or the Guardian. You have powers and abilities that put you a cut above most people, but you're not invincible. No, most of those 'A-list' heroes either were killed in the initial conflict or were infected and become Super Zombies. They will never stop hunting you, have all the powers they had in life, and they're completely amoral. Imagine a serial killer with Superman's power set. Sweet dreams. . .

 System wise the game utilize a dice set of four, six, eight, ten and 12-sided dice. You will need two ten-sided dice (2d10) to act as your Action Dice. The mechanic is simple: Roll your Action Dice, then an attribute die (Strength, Vitality, etc). Add the results of the roll, then modifiers for powers, skills, advantages, and the like and compare the results to a Target Number set by the Editor-in-Chief (the Game Master). If you beat the target number, you achieve your goal. The system allows for a number of superhuman abilities, talents, and skill sets. You can build just about any superhero from Batman to Luke Cage, and even the big guns if your EiC is feeling generous and wants a higher powered game.

 Artistically the imagery in the game ranges from good to great, with a few striking images such as the book's cover that really help set the game's equal parts horrific and heroic tone. The In-Game setting of Paradigm City is well-constructed and the Non-Player Characters provided as examples for character creation and potential supporting cast/player characters or even antagonists make for interesting reading material. The setting is an intriguing one and hands a lot of guns on the wall for the EiC to build upon. The actual nature of Z-Day is kept deliberately vague for a future revelation, but some potential causes are discussed and explored if the Editor wants to provide an explanation out of the gate.

 ROTTED CAPES makes for a lot of fun but I'd be remiss if I didn't point out a few flaws here and there that took me out of the game a little. The power sets break down into three primary modes: Super-Human (Inherent physical powers), Skill Hero (trained heroes like Batman), or Tech Hero (mad scientist/Iron Man types). This seemingly limits the game for anyone who'd like to create a character a bit outside of these three paths. Magic-based heroes for example are possible, but in comparison to other superhero systems (Green Ronin's MUTANTS & MASTERMINDS for example) the game can feel a little limited. But again, this is a nitpick and far from a deal-breaker.

Overall ROTTED CAPES has an intriguing premise and is a fun-looking system that looks like it'd be a blast to play. If you're looking to spice up the gaming table with a supers campaign that's off the beaten track or want to give your horror heroes a decidedly potent edge against the forces of the undead this system has plenty of toys in the box that'd make for hours of fun gameplay. Thus far the core rulebook and a single adventure sourcebook entitled MIND GAMES are the sole products for the RC line, but I'm hopeful Paradigm will produce more. Despite the minor flaws here and there the game overall is a strong beginning to a setting I'd love to see explored in further detail. Consider it recommended.

You Should Read This: FAITH #1 & 2.

If there's a word I'd use to describe my comic-book shopping agenda on those weekends when my time is my own and I owe nothing to the world it'd have to be "random." A lot of comics fans like to establish weekly pull lists for their friendly local comic book store, or they subscribe to a certain title on Comixology or the like. They have plans, favored titles and creators that they follow with regularity and basically invest in their haul much the same way as a Netflix subscriber has their to-watch list. Me, I'm not like that. Frequently I'll have an idea of what titles I'd like to check in on, but for the most part I just wander among the new release shelves, letting my feet take me where they will. Some enjoy the thrill of the chase, I just like to wander into new places and see what's doing. So it is with my discovery of Valiant Comics FAITH by the team of Jody Houser, Francis Portella, and Maguerite Sauvage.

 Back in the halcyon days of the 1990s I was a huge fan of Valiant Comics. Initially luring me in with their enjoyable takes on classic Gold Key characters like Doctor Solar, Man of the Atom, Turok: Dinosaur Hunter and Magnus: Robot Fighter (one of my All-Time Favorite Characters), the Valiant brand expanded to a number of unique creations such as Bloodshot, X-O Manowar, and Harbinger. Unfortunately, due to a number of reasons too involved to go into for the purposes of this article, Valiant in the '90s shut down and their stable of characters was consigned to the limbo of back issue bins for the better part of two decades. Recently the line made a comeback however, and with the aid of a number of talented creators the line has again become a force to be reckoned with. Books like RAI, ARCHER & ARMSTRONG, and THE ETERNAL WARRIOR are once again making their way back into my To-Read pile and I couldn't be happier.

 The eponymous lead of FAITH spins out of a title called HARBINGER, but you don't need to have read that book in order to enjoy this one. The elevator pitch is as follows:

 "When a car accident left her orphaned, Faith Herbert was raised by her loving grandmother and found comfort in comic books, science fiction movies, and other fantastic tales of superheroes. In her teens she would discover her fantasies were reality when it was revealed she was a psiot--a human being born with incredible abilities. Faith joined a group of fellow psiots called the Renegades to stand against the forces of evil. She's since left her Renegade family behind to take on the world's challenges on her own. She may have a lot to learn about the superhero game, but if there's one thing she's always had, it's. . .FAITH."

FAITH BEGINS opens with our heroine attempting to make a life for herself as a superheroine and reporter in California, but with the journalism game not being all it's cracked up to be she's settled for being an online content generator for an entertainment website by day and the superheroic Zephyr by night. Gradually though she's pulled into a greater mystery that may involve ties to the psiot community, and when things escalate, they escalate quickly for our heroine.

You ever meet a character in a fictional piece and it feels like you've known them forever? Faith Herbert is like that. She's got superhero memorobilia, statues, she makes pop culture references. One of the highest compliments I can give Jody Houser's writing is that the character feels like people I've known in my life in fandom. . .hell, people I still actively know. People like myself. An engaging protagonist who you come to care about and actively root for is a key to longevity in an increasingly expensive comics fandom, and the team succeeds in bringing her to life with aplomb. Francis Portella's artwork allows for a nice blend of the fantastic and the familiar, from high-flying superheroics to the office politics many of us know only too well. And a special shout-out has to go to Marguerite Sauvage, whose work on Faith's fantasy sequences give us a fun snapshot of our heroine's psyche.


 It's a rare treat to find a title that you grok to so quickly and easily as FAITH. Whether you're a longtime fan or a complete comics neophyte, titles like this are ones everyone can enjoy. The first and second issues are on the stands now and I give them my heartiest and highest recommendation possible. I haven't had this much fun with a character since THE UNBEATABLE SQUIRREL GIRL. Not feeling most of the superhero titles out there? Have some FAITH my friend.  You won't regret it.

Let's Roll Part One: An Introduction OR Every Saga Has A Beginning. . .

 

  Tabletop roleplaying games have been a part of my life for over thirty years now. My first encounter with the medium took place almost by accident at the age of eight. We were visting my friend Owen's house in Fort MacMurray, Alberta and I discovered some orange-spined books featuring monsters on the cover belonging to his father. Being a voracious reader even back then I dove into them, and discovered in short order that this wasn't a traditional book. There was no story, just a collection of monsters, their backstories, and some odd series of numbers I didn't quite understand. This was my first encounter with the Monster Manual of first edition Dungeons & Dragons, detailing everything from goblins and kobolds to Zeus and Great Cthulhu. In the span of what had to have been a few hours visit my fate was sealed forever. Unfortunately, as I was going to Catholic school at the time (an irony not lost upon me today), my grade school self would have to wait a few more years until I could come into my own and discover roleplaying games properly.

 I'm going to assume that a lot of people here are familiar with tabletop RPGs, but on the off-chance you aren't here's the thumbnail sketch: imagine the games you played in childhood (Star Wars, superheroes, GI Joe, or even the traditional Cops & Robbers) carried over into adulthood, but with a formal rule structure based around the outcome of die rolls as final arbiter of certain situations or actions ("I hit you!" "Did not!" "Did too!"). D&D is the most famous example of this, based around fantasy settings a la Lord of the Rings, but there are other mediums too. Science fiction, superheroes, Weird Westerns, Steampunk, Planetary Romance, if it's got a following chances are good there's a system to make it happen.

 My next encounter with tabletop games happened a few years later after I'd moved back to Nova Scotia. Being a nascent geek, I instantly gravitated toward the emerging comicbook stores/games shops that were on the rise in the greater Halifax/Dartmouth area, and one day while at one of these shops, I discovered the volume TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES & OTHER STRANGENESS. Understand, by this point (1988 or 1989, details blur) I was a huge TMNT fan. I had the Mirage trade paperbacks, tolerated the cartoon adaption (which wasn't nearly as cool, but hey, points for robot ninjas and the Technodrome), and the notion that there was a game where I could not only play one of the characters but build my own badass mutated animal hero? Where do I sign?! I also made another discovery that Palladium Games(the company which produced TMNT&OS) also produced the ROBOTECH roleplaying game. I was hooked, and hooked hard.

 Of course, the problem of any RPG  is finding a group with which to play, and in Nova Scotia in the late '80s to early '90s, that was hard for me. My cousin Nathan ran a few Robotech games for myself and my brother, but his heart wasn't really in it. I played a couple more games through junior high and high school, but it never quite took off into a regular campaign.

 And yet I would continually purchase roleplaying games, from the hefty core rulebooks to supplementary tomes. Like the ant in the fable with his friend the grasshopper, I kept hoarding these gamebooks for reasons quite beyond me (and beyond my parents and my own Wallet, to say the least). Even today I'll still buy a games system, though most of them gather dust on my shelf or sit idle in boxes. Why is that?

 I think  it stems back to a couple factors. My family moved around a lot and I was an introverted kid, spending a lot of time inside my own head. These books weren't just collections of stats and figures, they were a window into another world, where I could be more than just The New Kid. On Krynn I could be a Knight of Solamnia, in the Outer Rim I could be a daring smuggler one step ahead of the Empire, or I could be the newest costumed hero to take the fight against evil to the mean streets of Gotham City. They were an escape, and I used them to put myself into places and worlds where I felt more dynamic, more confident, and more together than I did at the time I bought them.

 But a lot of these systems never got played. They sat on shelves and while I enjoyed them, I never partook of them, except for a few online excursions and play by e-mail. Well, that's going to change. This column (which will be released on a more-or-less-regular basis) is going to be me examining the game systems I own. From old favorites to recent purchases, it'll be an effort to understand why I got them, what I hope to gain from them, and maybe even how I'll run them for my friends. At the very least it'll help me put all this spent time (and money) to a productive use. At the very most it'll help me provide you with some insight on game systems you might want to try out for your own amusement. Plus, being in public and making plans about a game forces me to, y'know, actually produce something, which can only help a born procrastinator like yours truly.

 So join me next time as we discuss a game system, why I got it, what's good about it, and whether or not I run it. And if you've got a favorite system you'd like to hear me talk about, comment on the blog and if I own it (I own a bunch, so its probably on my shelf somewhere) I'll be happy to rap about it.

 Until next time,

 Stacy

Beware The Superman.

I work in IT. Tier one technical support to be precise. If you've ever seen an episode of The IT Crowd or called a toll-free number for help configuring your router you've got a rough idea of what I do. I help with your e-mail, I replace toner cartridges when the ink runs out in the printer. I loan out laptops and mice and ensure they can connect to the Internet if you need to train. Not a horrible career as they go, and it keeps the wolves fed while I do my best to hasten the arrival of my inevitable stardom(which at 37 years old better pick up on the hastening, but that's a whole other story). The point is, I help people. I enjoy helping people, and I like to examine problems and see if there's a solution that can benefit a person or persons in need. I wouldn't have hung on damn near a decade in the business if I didn't derive some satisfaction from it, however distant.

 I enjoy superhero fiction. Superheroes are born problem-solvers. Whether due to training from youth or the empowering light of a yellow sun, superheroes take on challenges and do their best to overcome them in the service of helping others. By no means realistic, but it's fun and it speaks to something in me that responds to the notion of might for right. Of using one's inherent gifts to help. That's got a lot of appeal as a fantasy, just look at the box office numbers lately. The notion of getting past all the red tape and the obstruction and the mistrust and the bullshit and just going out and kicking some ass in the name of what's right has a lot of appeal. The myth of the superhero is an appealing archetype and provides us with both entertainment and an ideal to aspire toward. That's great and I wouldn't change a thing.

 A common trope I see in comics and film is the notion of  "superheroes in the real world" or statements along the lines of "we took great pains to ground this film in reality". This sentiment of taking the iconic heroes of youth and placing them in a setting like our contemporary world had an initial appeal in my youth (I remember years past being stoked beyond words at how badass the 1989 Batman film had made the Dark Knight in terms of his mainstream appeal) but as I've grown older it's become more and more problematic to me. You could argue it's age and seeing the past through rose-coloured glasses, or a desire to keep my childhood icons from being forced from the idyllic realm of Good versus Evil and into the gray morass of the world outside my window, but I think the reason is inherently tied in to my experience in IT. There's really a simple reason why we all should be extremely grateful that superheroes don't exist in the real world.

They would go completely and irrevocably insane.

 Day after day, I deal with easily same problems (or variations on the theme). Helping people who run the gamut in terms of personality and technical ability. And for the most part they're wonderful people. Who invariably experience similar problems. Over and over and over and over. . .the stress can build on a body. It's definitely built on mine. Hell, in 2004 when I started working in the business I had hair. And it was brown. Now the few battered enclaves of follicles left on my head are brown turning gray. There have been moments when I have felt intensely happy to have helped out. . .and moments when I've cheerfully thought about taking a Louisville slugger to the nearest workstation and continue until every last vile glowing box has been smashed to bits.

 I've been reading Boom Studios' IRREDEEMABLE, Mark Waid's brilliant deconstruction of the superhero and his place in the world, and it's nothing short of breathtaking in just how low one hero can sink after years of letting that pressure build until it finally erupts. Superheroes are comforting enough on the page because within the universes created for them they can make a difference and the challenges they face are so often are external threats. But what happens when it's just the simple act of having to deal with the same level of crisis day after day after day without respite? Constantly hearing cries for help with your super-hearing and never getting a moment's peace? Or of being completely impervious to pain but a simple caress of a hand in your hair would cut a potential partner's hand to ribbons? And the worst bit, the absolute worst, is being able to discern the naysayers and critics even when 95% of the people love you. Because we all do it really; no matter how much praise we receive we invariably focus like a laser pointer on the negative.

 Imagine the worst day you have ever had. He dumped you. You lost your job. You got cheated out of that promotion. You get raked over the coals for something you didn't do. Imagine all of that, all of it. . .and then imagine you could shoot lasers from your eyes. Imagine you could flip a tank with one hand. Imagine you can crush coal into diamond. You're a nice enough person, so of course you help out as best you can but it just never stops, does it? There's always someone else to save, some other disaster to halt, another kitten in a tree and it just keeps going. It's not like a regular job where you at least get to take a break while someone else can spot you, is it? And what recompense do you get other than a pat on the back and a smile? Imagine being on-call twenty-four seven for these ungrateful little shits who constantly need, need, NEED--

 Ahem.

 Lord Acton once wrote "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." In a fantasy, we know that the hero is true and just and good because for the most part that's how the writer envisioned him. Superheroes work brilliantly when they're fighting to save the world in a universe of jet packs, aliens, talking gorillas, and time travel. In reality, superheroes would be people. And people never handle power well. Much like salt, realism is best used sparingly, to enhance the flavor of a dish. Dump it on wholesale and the taste is ruined. I hope that the upcoming release of MAN OF STEEL strikes that balance.

 In the meantime, I'll enjoy superheroes in comics as they fight in a universe that understands and supports their efforts, while at the same time doing my best to use the gifts I've been given to fight the good fight. And if a radioactive spider or dying alien should offer me a nibble or a powerful knickknack, I'll just say no. Probably best for all of us that way.

 ~Stac

Post-View Show- Captain America; The First Avenger.

Later.

Later will come the deeper analysis, the introspection and the critical thinking necessary to judge a work of fiction with any degree of impartiality. For the moment, I trust you will indulge me as I completely lose what little hold I have over my self-control and urge you to see this film immediately. It is easily the best film Marvel Studios has produced, and (in my humblest of opinions)the best film of Summer 2011. There. I said it. The gauntlet has been thrown to the ground.

Now this may be my post-viewing enthusiasm bubbling forth, and perhaps subsequent viewing will cool my feelings toward the piece. I freely admit I'm a Golden Age/Pulp nerd; set something in the 1930s-40s, throw in some weird science, a diabolical arch-fiend out to take over the world and a stalwart hero to oppose him and I'm in like Flynn. But this movie not only met my expectations, it exceeded them. Joe Johnston and his team have done what I never would've dreamed possible: they have created a film that is a tonal and character 180 degrees from the pinnacle of contemporary superhero movies (Chris Nolan's The Dark Knight) while still managing to make it a complete and total equal in terms of entertainment.

I may need a good night's sleep to mull this over on (it's about 3:15 in the morning as I type these words and the mixture of fatigue and giddiness could be coloring my perceptions) but I encourage you, nay, implore you to seek this film out. It's just plain fun in a way that I think most cinematic blockbusters rolled off the assembly line just aren't anymore. The good guys were true blue, the bad guys delightfully nasty, the good fight was fought, and a hero came into his own. My usual tag of 'recommended' seems pale and inadequate. See this movie and let me know what you think. Me? I loved it. It's easily my favorite Marvel movie of all time, and stands shoulder to shoulder with Sky Captain And The World of Tomorrow, The Phantom, and the Fleischer Superman cartoons as a vision of old school heroism and adventure.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to collapse into a satisfied but exhausted heap.

Stac

Ps. Staying until after the credits would be very, very wise. Have a bucket handy to collect your face after it's melted off.

Everything old is new again. . .again.

This should be an easy piece to write. And on most comics-related blogs and webforums I'm sure it is. The recent decision by DC Comics to reboot their entire line in September with brand new 'first' issues and a (mostly) completely clean slate continuity-wise is doubtless meeting with the fan community in the same way a steel-toed boot would be warmly received by a hornet's nest. And I'll admit freely the temptation to give in to the nerd rage is powerful indeed. But if I had to sit down and analyze my feelings over the reboot, and really look at them beyond my nostalgia and my desire for things to be exactly as I would have wanted when I was first reading comics, I come to an uncomfortable conclusion: I actually don't really mind the reboot all that much. In fact, I can even understand the reasoning behind why it's being done.

DC Comics is a business. Businesses require money. Let's say you have a relatively small but loyal base that provide you with a steady (but not overly abundant) source of income. Yet you have the potential in the wake of certain business decisions (i.e. movies in the cinema/direct to DVD, video games, television shows, etc) to bring in new revenue. So you reconfigure your existing product to be as open to new people (and new money) as you possibly can. Will this irk your existing base who've enjoyed the product as-is for years? Ohhh yeah. But without risk, you're playing a steadily losing hand, your audience dwindling as it ages and then shuffles off the mortal coil. From that perspective I can see what DC is trying to do. I may not completely agree with it, but I can understand it. They want to entice the iReader generation, and if they have to shake hands with the devil of Reboot in order to do so then so be it.

Another thing that has me making my (albeit grudging) peace with the new status quo is the simple fact that I'm thirty-five years old. I can't work up the ire and the bile necessary to get up in arms or protest at San Diego comic con in a homemade Batman costume. It doesn't make sense to me. The comics you read and enjoyed aren't going away. Brigades of Bradburyian Firemen aren't going to come to your door to burn your copies of Crisis on Infinite Earths, Legends, The Man of Steel, Birthright, No Man's Land, Blue Devil, or Justice League International. Those stories are as valid in September as they were ten or twenty years ago. They're not 'real' anymore? Who determines what's 'real' and what isn't but the reader?

Much like professional wrestling and soap operas, superhero comics undergo waves of revisionism and experimentation every so often. DC has a new editorial staff and a new head of publishing, so they're naturally going to pop the hood and try to trick out the engine. Will it work? I don't know, but let's not be quick to rush to judgement in the tradition of The Simpsons' Comic Book Guy. Nobody wants to be that guy. That guy doesn't want to be that guy. If you don't like the new direction, there are literally hundreds of back issues and collected editions you can explore set in the previous continuity, or you can even blaze new trails and experiment with titles from Marvel, Image, Dark Horse, or other independent companies.

I'll be trying out a couple of DC's new titles in September (they've got a book featuring the Grant Morrison Frankenstein, so that's some of my money spent right out of the gate), but I don't feel that this change for the future invalidates the experiences I've had in the past. I could choose to wallow in my nerd rage, or I could choose to give something new a chance. It's a stretch outside my comfort zone, but I'm willing to give it a try.

Stac

Hero Tune-Up: Steel.

What atonement is there for blood spilt upon the earth?
-Aeschylus

Steel did it first.

Dr. John Henry Irons was an engineering genius with a simple dream: to create weapons that would make the waging of war entirely undesirable. Unfortunately his noble intentions led to the creation of armaments whose hideous potential for destruction made them the hot-ticket item for would-be warlords, despots, and gang-bangers when the company he worked for sold them on the black market. Faking his death for fear the immoral corporation would coerce him into making more weapons for criminals Irons went underground, building a new life as a steel worker in Metropolis. Saving a friend from a fall from a skyscraper under construction led to Irons' nearly plummeting to his death, only to be saved at the last minute by Superman. Wanting to know how best to express his gratitude, the Man of Tomorrow simply asked him to live 'a life worth saving' and then flew off. A few weeks later, Superman died fighting the monstrosity known as Doomsday(he got better, but that's another story).

Recovering from injuries sustained during Doomsday's rampage, Irons discovered to his horror that without Superman to protect the streets Metropolis was descending into a gang war, a war whose armament of choice was a weapon of his own design. Shaken by Superman's death and wanting to honor the legacy of the man who had saved his life and so many others besides, Irons designed a suit of powered armor and took to the streets, doing his best to protect the weak and the helpless in a world without a Superman. Originally dubbed 'The Man of Steel' by Lois Lane, the title was eventually shortened to simply 'Steel', and upon Superman's return from death (comics everybody), he became a valued ally. Steel would go on to fight crime in his native Washington, D.C., and eventually become a member of the fabled Justice League of America.

He's been in his own solo series, the awesome crossover event known as 52, and has been a member of the JLA during one of it's most glorious creative periods. He's an armored super-genius attempting to atone for the use of weapons he designed falling into the wrong hands. Sound a little familiar? He's the best parts of Iron Man and Superman(with a neat little nod to the legend of John Henry) and he gets to wield Thor's hammer(okay, not mjolnir, but Steel's hammer is nothing to laugh at; he can control it's trajectory and has kinetic enhancement technology embedded inside it that makes it's blows feel less like a sledgehammer and more like an oncoming train). So why is it this guy can't seem to break out from the minors to the majors?

There are very, very compelling elements to the character of Steel but for all that there's been a lack of what I would call a hook, something to hang the character's personality upon and build upon until he stands completely on his own merit. For me that hook is the need to atone, to make up for the lives destroyed by his own actions and creations. True he never fired one of his weapons, but he designed them, made them as lethal as he could from the (somewhat laudable) reasoning that if they were so horrible, no one in there right mind would dare conceive to use them. Unfortunately, not everyone shared John's world view and as a result his weapons caused death on a massive scale. Every action he takes, whether it be in his armor or as the head of the philanthropic scientific think-tank Steelworks is to build a better world, a safer and happier world. Much like Iron Man, Steel is a futurist and wants a better world. With a bevvy of some of the DCU's brightest minds and most philanthropic backers (Wayne Enterprises and KORD Inc. in particular) he's going to build it, one girder at a time

Marry to that a desire to redeem others as well. Given a second chance by the world's greatest hero, I think that John would reach out and offer the chance for others to get their lives back together, particularly when it comes to the various 'mad scientists' of the DC Universe. Working with various prisons like Belle Reve or Blackgate, Irons would gain access to some of the DC Universe's most brilliant (albeit unbalanced) minds. The deal offered is simple: work with Steelworks and not only gain years off your sentence and the possibility of an early parole, but gain the recognition and respect you feel you were cheated out of. Villain being villains there are doubtless a few who'd think nothing of playing the teary-eyed penitent in order to play Irons for a chump. That said, trying to outwit the guy who designed the defence grid for the Justice League's headquarters and provides the heavily-armed Science Police with a variety of weaponry (non-lethal) capable of downing Solomon Grundy in four shots. . .well, best of luck with that. Steel is optimistic, not naive.

Steel in many ways is the anti-Lex Luthor. Where Luthor uses his brilliance to ensure his wealth, power, and dominance of others, John Henry uses his genius to make his city and the world cleaner, safer, and more secure. He fills a role that DC doesn't really have much of; that of the Reed Richards super-genius. Most of the scientists in the DCU tend to either fall into the Mr. Exposition or Mad Scientist archetypes, but Steel provides an example of a scientist who is not only brilliant, but capable as well. If any of Steel's experiments were to run amuck, he has the tools to deal with it. Well, one really big tool anyway.

It's of interest to me that Batman and his extended family can have a slew of titles and yet Superman and his merry crew seem to have difficulty sustaining any book without a kryptonian (or half-human clone thereof). Steel is a character rife with storytelling potential, and in the right hands could be one of the DCU's starting lineup with very little modification from his core concept. It'd be one of the books I'd write for free and without hesitation. And I haven't even mentioned ideas for storylines, like the resurrection of Tomorrow Woman, or the ascension of Amazo from brute thug to master villain. . .those would be pretty awesome tales to tell, no doubt.

DC, have your people call mine. We'll do lunch.

-Stac

And business? Booming.

Buy Essential Iron Fist Volume 1. It's more than worth it.

Stac

Through A Glass Darkly: The Justice League Crisis on Two Earths Review.

I have to confess I was initially going to skip out on this review. I mean, really, what do you expect me to say? It's my favorite team of superheroes--The Justice League of America--battling their evil twins from a parallel universe. I mean come on, this is just a recipe for pure awesome. How could it go wrong? The answer is that it does, albeit only slightly. Stick with me and we'll talk about it.

The film opens with Lex Luthor(Chris Noth) and a brightly colored, clownish figure breaking into a secure facility. With seconds to spare (and a delaying action by his associate that costs him his life) Lex uses a piece of stolen technology to jump from his universe to that of an alternate reality, the universe of the Justice League. There he approaches the team for help. His world has been overrun by a group called the Crime Syndicate, a cabal of superhuman criminals who have banded together in an alliance of their five crime families to divvy up the entirety of their world. Beneath a facade of normalcy the Syndicate rules through intimidation and outright violence. Luthor, leader of that world's Justice League, is its sole survivor and needs the aid of our League in order to liberate his world.

Superman(Mark Harmon) is initially skeptical, but the thought of anyone in trouble is enough to sway him to aid Luthor. Batman(William Baldwin) flat-out rejects the notion; they've got enough on their plate on their own Earth, trying to act as a multi-dimensional police force isn't an idea he endorses. Gradually the majority of the League decide it's in the best interests of this other-Earth to come to their aid and join with Luthor, departing for the alternate reality.

Luthor's activities haven't gone unnoticed by the Crime Syndicate; his escape cost two of their members their lives and boss of bosses Ultraman(Brian Bloom) is not happy. Owlman (James Woods) conducts his own investigation whilst simultaneously proposing the division of the deceased bosses' territories. Superwoman (Gina Torres) considers the possibilities of profit on a multi-dimensional scale, while hoods like Power Ring (Nolan North in a dual role) and Johnny Quick(James Patrick Stuart) are about securing their territory and making a quick buck. The nihilistic Owlman keeps his own counsel, but it's clear as the movie progresses that he has his own agenda, a considerably dark one.

Of course, the plot is largely a framework upon which to hang the central premise of the entire flick: superheroes fighting evil versions of themselves. And it's here the film shines. Co-directors Sam Liu and Lauren Montgomery bring some sick fight scenes to the piece, with everything from aerial acrobatics to brutal fist fights to accomplished martial arts moves and all points in between. Each hero/villain pairing gets their time to shine thanks to the capable pen of writer Dwayne McDuffie (a longtime comics writer as well as a producer of the original Justice League animated series), who works in a lot of subtle nods and in-jokes for the long-time fans while still keeping it fresh and new enough not to distance it from a more general audience. The character work here is all top notch; the Flash (Josh Keaton) is snarky and fun, Wonder Woman(Vanessa Marshall) gets some moments of epic badassery in the piece, mirrored nicely by Superwoman's own brand of superhumanly powerful insanity. Mark Harmon makes for a really fun Superman(complete with a slight country-boy twang to his speaking patterns) and Brian Bloom makes Ultraman a bit over the top, but it works for the ultimate supervillain in a world of supervillians. Hell, I'd be arrogant and over the top as all get-out if I knew I was king of the heap and had no moral barometer. Martian Manhunter(Jonathan Adams) gets a bit of development in this film as well, as he finds a potential love interest in the daughter of the American President of the other-Earth(called Earth-3 in the comics but never really provided a designation here).

The crown jewel of the piece however has got to be James Woods as Owlman. His portrayal of this character is one of an icy calm with just a tinge of complete and utter madness. Owlman is the Anti-Batman, which means his insanity is such that even the Joker would probably blanch. His plans are horrifying, but he pulls it off with such control--and even near-boredom--that you are at once creeped out and intrigued all at once. His scenes with Batman are incredible, though William Baldwin is at best capable as the Dark Knight. I really wish they'd gone with Kevin Conroy as the caped crusader, but Baldwin gets us where we need to go.

At 72 minutes the film is the longest of the DC Universe animated productions, and I hope that favorable reaction to the finished product will encourage the good people at Warner Brothers Animation to go flat-out for a proper 120-minute/2 hour feature. These films have been improving in quality by leaps and bounds with each release, and I hope they'll bring a greater scope and depth to them as time goes by and it's proven that the audience is hungry for more along these lines.

All this praise is warranted, but I did mention there was a bit of a problem I didn't notice with the film until a second viewing, namely in the character of Batman. The Dark Knight makes some choices in this film (one involving Owlman, the other with another character) that I found to be a bit reprehensible upon a second viewing. Yes, the members of the Crime Syndicate are no angels, but the Batman I've come to know over the years views life as pretty much sacrosanct. To take the life of anyone--even a psychotic criminal--is completely antithetical to the core concept of the character. Now it could be argued that 'this' Batman is a bit of a harsher fellow than the Batman I know, but still. . .Batman's reverence for life is such that he'd never put anyone in jeopardy, even his worst enemies. That's the sole reason the Joker is still breathing after everything he's done (and he's done plenty). Those moments almost took me out of the film, but they're far from a deal-breaker. Still, I wonder what prompted McDuffie to take the character in that direction.

Also included on the disk is the inaugural episode of a new project called DC Showcase; an Anthology-style series of animated shorts starring second or third-tier DC characters. Up first is The Spectre. Done in a washed out, pseudo-1970s grindhouse film style (which after watching Black Dynamite a week or so ago did not go unnoticed) the Spectre tells the tale of Jim Corrigan(Gary Cole) a detective working a homicide case. Of course, this being a DC feature Corrigan is far more than he appears. I won't spoil it for you, but the Spectre is the wrath of the unavenged dead, and yeah, wrath gets dished out in spades in this short. The nods towards horror classics of the '70s was not lost on this viewer, and the short was found to be incredibly fun. I can't wait to see the next feature on the docket, western gunfighter Jonah Hex. Recommended most highly.

Stac

You will believe.

Heh.

Ps. Yes, I'm sure Blackest Night is a lot of fun. Relax, Bixby. ;p

The Road to Hell: The Squadron Supreme Review.

For all my love of the superhero genre in the mainstream, I'm aware--sometimes painfully so--of it's limits. Much like followers of professional wrestling, a fan of the Big Two of DC and Marvel comics must eventually come to grips with the fact that the fix is in, that for all the struggle and travail his or her favored protagonist may go through, true and lasting change in conventional superhero comics will never truly happen. At the end of the day, Bruce Wayne will always be Batman, Superman will always be Clark Kent, and the cycle of their adventures will be forever bound in an eternal loop of origin, present day, origin, present day. You will never see the last Batman story, or the last Superman story, save in 'imaginary' tales. The Earth will never become a utopia in the pages of Marvel Comics; with geniuses like Tony Stark or Reed Richards you'd think there'd be cures for cancer and flying cars abounding, to say nothing of fusion power and complete freedom from reliance on fossil fuels. Why is mental illness still rampant on Marvel Earth when the potential for telepathic cures via powerful psychics like Charles Xavier and Jean Grey exist? Hell, the Purple Man (and yes non-comics fans, there is a character called the Purple Man. Oddly enough he's not themed around grapes) should be raking in the dough by offering dieting and smoking cures via simple use of his mind control abilities. Of course doing that would distance Marvel Earth from our world and that would be unrealistic (how 'realistic' a world rife with super-soldiers, gamma-irradiated behemoths, Norse Gods, and mutants who can regenerate from a drop of blood is a matter best left to wiser men than I).

Mainstream superhero comics don't change. They offer an illusion of change, yes, but by and large it's an exercise in re-arranging patio furniture: it looks very nice and it's different than how it used to look, but all the components are intact, simply in different arrangement. One either embraces this truth or ignores it.

Stories like Watchmen or Kingdom Come, wherein the hard-hitting questions were asked about the connections between heroism, power, responsibility and insanity, broke new ground in taking a step back from the superhero genre and examining what made it tick. Watchmen with the curiosity of turning over a brightly colored stone and examining the worms and bugs skittering beneath the bright surface, Kingdom Come with the bible-thumping conviction of heroism versus vigilantism and an ultimate rejection of the grim and gritty trappings of 1990s superheroics with an eye toward returning to the more old-time religion of more hopeful, optimistic fare. Yet before either of those works were published there was a series which took a look at the concept of the superhero and asked some of the questions that Watchmen and Kingdom Come were later to explore. That series was Marvel Comics twelve-issue maxi-series Squadron Supreme.

Initially the eponymous heroes were little more than Marvel's own thinly-veiled take on the Justice League, a band of superbeings from an another dimension who looked a little. . .familiar. . .whom the Mighty Avengers would usually trounce due to the Squadron falling under the influence of mind control(that beloved staple of writers everywhere, ensuring those superhero/superhero battles readers love). For a while no further depth was needed, and the formula worked as something to break out every so often to show the House of Ideas' inherent superiority over the Distinguished Competition. Until writer-editor Mark Gruenwald came along. Gruenwald had been a longtime fan of the Justice League despite working entirely for Marvel throughout his career, and saw the Squadron as an opportunity to tell a story that would not only give a nod to the beloved comics of his youth, but also comment on the genre as a whole.

In the wake of one of their crossovers with Marvel Earth, the Squadron Supreme are left in their home dimension in the wake of an absolute disaster. A power mad entity from the world of the Marvel heroes had seized control of the Squadron and led the world to ruin. With the aid of their other-dimensional brethren the Squadron were able to break free and save the world, but even with their Earth saved the planet is a complete wreck. The global infrastructure has collapsed, with shortages, riots, and absolute chaos taking place all over the globe. The heroes do what they can to help, but it's clear that the situation is dire. It's in that period of recovery that Hyperion (the Squadron's Superman analogue) proposes that this is a moment they could do more than merely return the Earth to status quo. They could enact changes that could benefit all mankind; eliminate war, disease, crime. . .to build a true utopia for the entire human race.

This is met with nearly universal acclaim from his fellow heroes, save from Kyle Richmond, aka Nighthawk (the Batman analogue). He feels that any effort the team undertakes to better the world runs the risk of stripping the population of their fundamental rights. The debate is intense, but ultimately Hyperion wins out and Nighthawk chooses to resign from the Squadron. Stepping down as President of the United States due to his role in the crisis which led the world to ruin, Richmond (yeah, Batman was president on this Earth. Let the awesome of that thought sink in for a moment) has the opportunity to kill Hyperion with an argonite (guess what it's supposed to be) bullet, but reneges at the last minute. Hyperion lays out the Utopia Project to a listening America and the world, and the first issue ends with the Squadron unmasking, revealing their true identities and declaring their intent to make the world a better safer place. The last panel has the Squadron looking confident, the heroes smiling and standing boldly clearly ready to whip the world into shape. The only off note to the otherwise joyous image is Kyle Richmond in his civilian clothes, head lowered slightly and features downcast, putting the lie to the otherwise triumphant scene.

For a while, it even seems to work. The team creates a city/headquarters in the midst of the desert, where they work to improve the lot of the world. Their steps include such bold moves as endeavoring to eliminate the existence of firearms across the globe, and the implementation of the B-Mod device. Simply put, their resident genius Tom Thumb creates a machine that can realign the moral centers of the brain. Hardened criminals can have the machine placed on their heads and then be remade into model citizens with absolutely no thought of committing violent crime or being anything other than a productive citizen. On the surface, this all sounds great. No guns and no criminals? That's awesome! Right?

Neil Gaiman once said in an interview that the trouble with a utopia is that eventually you have to fill it with people. Principles and high ideals are one thing, but people can be at once saint and sinner, bold and craven. The behaviour modification technology is great. . .depending on who uses it. The lack of guns is great. . .until the Whizzer's family is threatened and he immediately grabs the first sub machine gun he can find and lets the bullets fly. The Squadron's intentions are noble, but that doesn't stop Nighthawk from allying with Master Menace (the Squadron's Lex Luthor) to attempt to stop them from taking over the world. But even he has to shake hands with the devil and put the b-mod technology to work for him. Nobody comes out of this series with their hands clean. Not everyone comes out alive either.

Despite my status as the resident Silver Age junkie in my comics group, I enjoyed Squadron Supreme for that selfsame moral complexity. The violence and the ethical quandaries posed within its pages serve the story, rather than feeling like simple gimmicks to shock and jar the reader. The book was completely unlike anything like it on the shelves in 1985, and while it's perhaps not aged as well as it could have (the art style is a bit In-House at times, though still serviceable), the story stands as a testament to how the genre could be--and perhaps should be--challenged. Hyperion has a point with his ideals, but Nighthawk has one too, to say nothing of the individual members of the Squadron and their beliefs. Eventually it comes down to a final battle between the two groups, and while one side emerges victorious, it's a Pyrrhic victory at best. Unlike other stories told in this genre, this one has consequences that left both the world and its heroes changed.

Whether in an effort to see the foundations laid for Watchmen and Kingdom Come or just to enjoy an enjoyable superhero yarn with a bit more depth than the average fare of it's time, I'd advocate reading Squadron Supreme. It's a self-contained tale that's at once familiar for longtime comics fans but welcoming for the casual reader. Recommended.

Stac

Ps. 100 posts! Woo!

The Dynamic Duo of Kandor: The Adventures of Nightwing and Flamebird Review.

Superman: The Adventures of Nightwing and Flamebird

Written by: Cary Bates, Paul Kupperberg
Inks by: Allen Milgrom, Romeo Tanghal


I love the Silver Age of Comics. The period encompassing the mid-1950s through the late 1960s is one of my favorite eras of the entire genre. Wertham's Seduction of the Innocent had led to the crackdown of the Comics Code, which put EC Comics and their various horror, crime, and suspense publications out of business. In the wake of the Code, DC Comics underwent a second renaissance under the editorial leadership of Julie Schwartz, who reintroduced Golden Age heroes like the Flash, Green Lantern, and the Atom with a science fiction spin in keeping with the UFO/Sci-Fi (an ugly term, but apt for the period) craze sweeping the nation. The Marvel Age of Comics, with it's heroes burdened with their own personal drama in addition to the perils common to the superheroic community, was just around the corner. DC's big three; Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman, had been going strong since the 1930s, although by the dawn of the Silver Age their adventures had been running continuously for about twenty-odd years apiece, and it could be a struggle to keep the concepts fresh.


It was in the Silver Age that so much of Superman's rich mythology really locked into place; Krypton as Utopian paradise, the Fortress of Solitude, the Phantom Zone, Supergirl. . .and the Bottled City of Kandor. Truly one of the more bizarre (not Bizarro, we'll cover him another time) creations of the time, the city was once a thriving community on Superman's home planet of Krypton that had been shrunk down and placed in a bottle by the android villain brainiac as an addition to his growing collection of alien cultures. This spared the people of Kandor when Krypton exploded and one day Brainiac's marauding took him to Earth where he ran afoul of Superman, who managed to liberate Kandor from Brainiac's clutches and return them to his Fortress of Solitude. Unfortunately, while Superman could devise temporary ways to shrink himself down and enlarge the populace contained within, he could never find a lasting solution to their predicament. That was the supreme irony of the concept; there was an entire city of millions of Kryptonians alive and well. . .and stuck at mere inches in height.


With Kandor, Superman could visit Krypton, or at the very least a piece of it, which led to some interesting stories (the creation of the Superman Emergency Squad being one of them; a band of Kandorian heroes who would journey beyond the bottle where--while tiny--they still gained the full suite of superpowers common to Kryptonians under a yellow sun, clad in little red and blue uniforms to aid Superman should he ever need them). . .and the sheer insanity which I'm about to share with you. Submitted for your approval: Nightwing and Flamebird, the Batman and Robin of Kandor!


During a visit to Kandor, Superman and his pal Jimmy Olsen soon discover they're public enemy #1 due to a villain's plot, claiming Superman has kept the people of Kandor as 'pets' when he had the means to enlarge the city all along. On the run from the lynch mob, they seek sanctuary with a friend of Superman's father Jor-El, who doesn't believe the outlandish claims of the villain and shelters Superman and Jimmy while they plan their next move. Realizing he'll be captured the instant he steps outside in his brightly-colored Superman attire, and powerless beneath Kandor's simulated red sun, Kal-El decides to crib from his pal Bruce Wayne's playbook and creates the secret identities of Nightwing and Flamebird, two very. . .familiar caped crusaders based on two avian creatures native to Krypton. With the aid of some Batman-esque gadgets and Kandorian super-science (not the least of which are a pair of sweet rocket belts), Nightwing and Flamebird save the day, with Kal and Jimmy cleared of the false charges while saving the city from potential destruction.


It was an insanely goofy one-off story. . .but apparently it must've clicked with the reading audience, because every once in a while Nightwing and Flambird would return. The costumed identities were eventually inherited by Kal-El's cousin Van-Zee(who was practically Kal's twin. . .it's comicbooks people) and ex-Phantom Zone convict Ak-Var, who became the second pair of heroes to don domino mask and rocket belt to roam the streets of Kandor in the Nightmobile (seriously), battling Kandorian criminals and mad scientists and ensuring their city is safe for the law-abiding and the just. Throw in a secret base known as the Nightcave(yep), and you get a recipe for something very familiar. . .but something a bit unique as well. The stories collected in the Adventures of Nightwing and Flamebird are backup tales to the Superman comics of the 1970s, so more than ten years later the adventures of Kandor's dynamic duo were still entertaining readers.


By no means is this collection a reinvention of the genre a la Watchmen or Kingdom Come, but it is quite entertaining. There's just something so wonderfully absurd about seeing the Batman archetypes played with in the Superman universe, especially in the city of Kandor, which we see as futuristic and solemn, a place of high science, portentous announcements, and Marlon Brando. The art ranges from '50s art deco (Schaffenberger) to 1970s Neal Adams/Gil Kane hybrid (Rogers), but Kandor's Utopian look remains largely intact. Van-Zee and Ak-Var aren't quite Bruce Wayne or Dick Grayson, but a pair of heroes with some interesting quirks. Van is a scientist, husband, and father trying to ensure Kandor's continued safety while Ak-Var is an ex-con who's gotten a second chance at a better life and is determined not to squander it. The villains here aren't the grotesque carnival of Batman's rogues gallery, but rather mad scientists, monsters, and other assorted menaces that might plague such a science fiction setting. Brainiac makes a return appearance, and gradually an overarching plot develops in the form of a criminal mastermind known only as the Crime Lord, an evil genius gathering various Kryptonian relics who turns out to be. . .but that'd be telling, wouldn't it?


In a marketplace where each month seems to bring another 'Event'--that you absolutely must read now because things will never be the same again--The Adventures of Nightwing and Flamebird is a relic of a bygone era. A time when a backup feature only had 10-12 pages to entertain, and the creative teams made damn sure you left with your money's worth. The concept was absurd, but it's made to work so well that the occasional cheesiness (Nightcave? Really?) can be forgiven for the sake of a cracking fun adventure story. If a nit has to be picked, it's in the fact that the debut story for the concept isn't included in this collection, but is instead found in the Superman: The Bottle City of Kandor trade. Which is understandable, (it is one of the better Kandor-based stories) but still a bit of a letdown for those wanting the total NW&FB stories in one location.


Nightwing and Flamebird appear to be undergoing a third renaissance in the pages of Action Comics, with yet another character pair in the title role. For a simple, done-in-one anthology of fun Batman-esque tales with a Superman twist that's enjoyable for readers ages eight to eighty, you'd do well to give The Adventures of Nightwing and Flamebird a read. Recommended.



Stac

Superhero tropes I love: The Legion of Super-Heroes.

Not so much a trope as it is a group and a title, but as concepts went in the grand scheme of things the Legion of Super-Heroes has to rate up there with the best of them. Kids like superheroes, and they like superhero teams, so what could be finer than a book featuring a superhero team comprised of kids? In fact, more than a team, the Legion was a club for young heroes, a group where they could get together and not only use their magnificent abilities for the betterment of the United Planets, but they could meet and do that which teenagers do so well; angst it up in the best emo tradition!

Okay, okay, I'm kidding obviously. But in all seriousness I have a lot of love for the classic 1980s Paul Levitz Pre-Crisis LSH. They were getting older, the enemies they were facing were getting formidable, and it was time when a guy could rock a beard and be in his mid-twenties and still be called 'Star Boy'. It also featured one of my favorite concepts; that of Superboy being a member of the Legion and time-travelling from the past to the 30th century to join in their exploits. While I take issue with some of the things Geoff Johns has done with Superman of late (following the Donner films a smidge too slavishly for one) on the whole he's gotten a lot of things right and no better instance of this exists than in the opening of the Superman and The Legion of Super-Heroes story wherein Clark meets people who are like him. Kids like him with powers. And they have a club, a place where he can belong. That's the core of the Legion to me. It's a place where you can belong, and I think that underlying theme explains the enduring love fans have for the book, that's allowed it to survive reboot after reboot and still gather fans despite continuity snarls and backstory problems that make even the hardest of the hardcore fanboys reach for the asprin. They've been kids, they've been grownups, they've even been cartoons but at the core of it all the Legion is a family. Sometimes a highly dysfunctional one, but that sense of belonging and community with it's upbeat utopian message that maybe we will make it after all makes the book for me.

The Legion's latest comicbook incarnation came to a close recently and it's now been relegated to a backup story (I'm sorry 'co-feature') with the current Connor Kent/Kon-El Superboy in the pages of Adventure Comics (fitting since that's where the Legion debuted in the first place). But it wouldn't surprise me if those teens from the future returned yet again. They're nothing if not tencacious.

Long live the Legion!

Stac

Ps. If I had my druthers and any juice in the comicbook industry I'd have Christopher Bird take a crack at writing the Legion. His 'Why I should Write The Legion' posts over on his blog are nothing less than pure awesome. Check them out here.

Superhero tropes I miss: Fun-lovin' Criminals.

There's just something to be said for a man or woman in a funny outfit committing petty acts of larceny with an appropriately outrageous theme or gimmick. These days it seems to be something of a lost art in superhero comics, at least where the bigger companies are involved. What happened to the stories where our good Captain Cold (pictured above) would knock over a jewelry store, run afoul of Central City's own scarlet speedster and end up cooling his heels in prison after the requisite feats of derring-do and overall badassery? In fact, what happened to this kind of villain in general; namely the Rogue, a reliable source of trouble for our heroes to dispatch within about 22 pages plus ads? And why aren't there any new 'rogues' out there today? Villains who aren't out to destroy the world or kill everything in sight but just want to make the big score and get one-up on the hero? I think a couple of things contributed to the downfall of the rogue archetype over the master/uber-villain.

Part of it comes from the fact that done-in-one stories just aren't how most superhero titles work these days. Before comicbook stores and the direct market, individual publishers sent their books out into the world uncertain as to whether or not the book's final destination would have carried the issue before it or would the issue after. For all the writers and artists of The Flash (I'm using that title as an example but it's hardly the only one) knew, this particular magazine would only reach a certain vendor and a given reader once, if at all. As a result, each issue was largely preserved as a single entity. There'd be the odd cliffhanger issue or multi-part story, but those wouldn't really come into vogue until the direct market allowed for a single venue where issue after issue would be made readily available. As superhero comics progressed the multi-part storyline came more and more into vogue, encouraging readers to come back for more and allowing the creators a chance to go a bit more in-depth than the original system might've allowed.

So while a 'menace of the month' format works great for a book that readers may not be able to read on a regular basis (namely most readers before the rise of comicbook stores), a single overarching villain or (to borrow the parlance of the Buffyverse) a 'big bad' allows for the best of all possible worlds. Yeah, the Parasite or Toyman make for a great villain for Superman to match wits with every now and again, but a schemer like Luthor in his corporate CEO incarnation allows for long-term storytelling potential. And--as most master villains do need their lackeys--it provides us with a plethora of costumed mooks/mercenaries/assassins that our intrepid hero may face without undue risk to himself. Simply put, the big bad works because the big bad can provide you with a mix of monthly menace for newcomers and long-term story arcs that will keep the reader coming back for more.

It's a great device, and one that I can see most writers utilizing because--after all--you want readers coming back month after month and a single villainous entity that will cause problems over a long period of time (say a summer crossover or yearly buildup to the big showdown) keeps the audience coming back. The problem arises in that--for the most part--all the major superhero titles seem to be doing this these days. Dark Reign has Norman Osbourne, The Blackest Night has the Scar Guardian (and her mysterious 'him' who's coming--*cough*NEKRON*cough*). The big titles seem to be caught in a loop of the next major epic storyline. And that's cool, I enjoy a good epic as much as the next guy. But if--as has been said--every comic is somebody's first, can't we have the odd breather period every now and then where we can revisit an old-fashioned superheroic slobberknocker where the Top tries to rob a bank and runs afoul (heh) of the fastest man alive?

Another thing I've noticed lately in the depiction of costumed villains is that there's a distinct lack of joy when it comes to their supervillainy. These days everyone seems to be bestubbled, surly, and behaving in a manner that makes me think they walked off the set of The Sopranos not moments before the first panel catches my eye. I realize that supervillains are deeply flawed, damaged people, some of whom are seriously creepy(your Jokers, your Venoms, etc). But whatever happened to the supervillain who had fun being a heel, that enjoyed matching wits against a daring hero, and who could be relied upon to monologue as the hero struggles to escape the overly intricate trap involving an inordinately theatrical death? These days it seems that they're all either surly brutes or skeezy sexual predators (poor, poor Doctor Light. Someday someone will salvage that gloriously cheesy character of yours).

A hero is only as good as the quality of his villains, but lately it just feels like supervillains have lost something, some essential quality of fun-loving, theatrical evil that got replaced by a need to have them appear more brutal and thuggish. To me, I'd much rather read a Captain Cold that matches wits with the Flash and even (occasionally) does him a solid than the one that helped beat Bart Allen to death. One villain has an interesting character and is worthy of the title of a rogue. The other. . .not so much.

Just my $0.02 and assorted pocket lint.

Stac

The revision decision.

Greg Hatcher has an article up on Comic Book Resources in regard to the reboot/revamp trend in comics and what it all means:

'After all that, I still don’t have an answer for Mr. Bosnar. Not really. Why do people keep tweaking a perfectly good concept? Why mess with a good thing?

The best I can do is a guess, and here it is: times change and audiences get bored. Sooner or later, even the most popular series runs out of gas. So the only reason to do any kind of a revamp or a relaunch is because you think you can get a bigger audience. The only reason.

However, and here’s the part that drives us all a little nuts — unlike other entertainment franchises, superhero comics are aimed at an audience of hobbyists who regard these stories not so much as light entertainment, but rather as historical dispatches from an alternate universe. What I see when I look at the history of all these different versions of Green Lantern is this — the common factor to all of them is writers laboring under the lunatic misconception that this fictional entertainment really is history.

That’s a handicap that forces creators to twist themselves into knots to get over. Unlike, say, the James Bond movies which have reinvented themselves a number of times without any thought to what came before, or licensed Star Trek books and comics that contradict one another right and left, comics fans insist that their superhero relaunches must all somehow acknowledge and account for everything that’s been done up to that point.

So you can’t just do a new Green Lantern series from scratch, not the way Julie Schwartz did it in the late ’50’s. No matter what fresh angle you might bring to the idea, first you have to somehow doubletalk your way into a rationale for doing it. Maybe it’s having Hal Jordan go nuts so you can replace him with Kyle Rayner, or having Kyle step aside and Hal come back from the dead so he can be GL again and not the Spectre. That’s where these incredibly pedantic, minutiae-driven series like Green Lantern: Rebirth come from. We can’t just start with “Brand New Day,” we have to have “One More Day” first.

DC seems to think so, anyway. Honestly, I doubt that it’s really the case. Fans have shown that they’ll go along for the ride and never mind continuity if it looks to be a ride worth taking: DC’s New Frontier, Marvel’s Ultimate books, All-Star Superman.

Maybe the question isn’t so much, why keep tweaking the good idea? Maybe the question should be, why not just do the new version instead of first killing yourself trying to appease all the fans of every previous version ever?'

Interesting stuff, and it articulates a lot of thoughts I'd had about the contemporary superheroics to be found at the Big Two. The rest of the piece focuses on the history of Green Lantern as an example, and makes for a fun and thought-provoking read.

Stac

From the Read Pile #1:

SUPERMAN #686
DC Comics
Writer: James Robinson
Penciller: Renato Guedes

Of all the costumed crusaders out there dispensing two-fisted justice, Superman remains my absolute favorite. He's the original, the template for just about every superhero that's come down the pike since Action Comics #1 first hit the stands in June of 1938. He's got the best powers, the best supporting cast, and the best mythology built around him in comics history. He's the pioneer of an entire genre of comics, the dominant one in the West for over 60 years. He is, in short, the best.

However, I confess that for all my admiration of Superman as a character I haven't actually read much of his comics of late. Oh I'd read trade paperbacks starring Superman, such as SUPERMAN: BIRTHRIGHT, SUPERMAN: RED SON, or JSA: THE LIBERTY FILE (all of which will be getting reviews in the coming months), but his actual ongoing titles I hadn't followed with any degree of regularity since about the period of the Reign of the Supermen back in the '90s. It wasn't for any one reason, though if pressed I could argue that I felt that in the period since his death and return Superman's books had been in something of a holding pattern. Sure, there was the illusion of change; his marriage to Lois Lane, the whole 'energy being/electric-blue/man of teal' arc, the various crossovers and annuals assuring me that things would never ever be the same again, but it struck me that the greatest chances being taken with the character and his portrayal were oftentimes the ones outside DC Comics canon.

Still, the fact remains that as a Superman fan I wasn't reading Superman comics. Mentioning this fact to a friend I was taken to task on this and questioned about it. How could I be a fan of the character if I didn't follow his books? A bit irked by the notion, I made sure that the first chance I got I would purchase one of the Man of Steel's titles and read it for that simplest and purest of motives: irritated spite. While on my trip to Seattle I stopped by a local comicbook store and immediately grabbed the first Superman comic I could find, a copy of SUPERMAN #686. In retrospect, the lead character's lack of presence on the cover and the World Without legend above the eponymous title and beside the S-shield, as well as the Featuring Mon-El and the Guardian should have been the tip-off, but I was too eager to be righteous to care. I plunked down the $2.99 and made a note to read the book immediately. This was going to be great, my first Superman book in years!

And of course, he wasn't in it.

So eager had I been to reclaim my title as Superfan (get it? Heh. . .okay, we'll never do that again) that I'd walked blindly into the midst of the World of Krypton arc. There are others more qualified to explain the ins and outs of that storyline, but the basic gist is that a colony of lost Kryptonians have established themselves on an artificially constructed planet within Earth's solar system. Superman has gone to New Krypton to ensure the people of his birth world stay out of trouble, but he left the planet (and the city of Metropolis) in the hands of some friends of his; the aforementioned Mon-El and the Guardian.

The Guardian is a bit easier to explain, so we'll start with him. He's a clone of a hero from the golden age named Jim Harper, a top-level athlete and old-school crimebuster who rocks a blue and gold uniform and carries a shield, now upgraded for the 21st century with the ability to fly (think a souped-up version of the hoverboards from Back to the Future Part II and you're in the ballpark). Harper's been tapped by the city of Metropolis to head it's superhuman law-enforcement division, known to most as the Science Police. He's the seasoned pro of the book's new status quo.

Mon-El is a bit trickier. I make a vow every time I do these reviews not to allow the dreaded 'c-word' (continuity!) to rear its ugly head in my pieces, but it's damned hard not to talk about. . .that stuff. . .when dealing with Mon-El. The basic story is this: space explorer Lar Gand hails from the world of Daxam, a world that is amazingly like Krypton(so much so that its been theorized that one is a colony of the other), so much so that Daxamites on Earth gain powers that are identical to that of Kryptonians(flying, super-strength, invulnerability, laser vision, the super-senses suite, etc). The only hitch is that instead of the usual Achilles heel of Kryptonite, Daxamites find the lead in our environment to be a deadly poison. So while they can juggle tanks, a Daxam native can't deal with a #2 pencil(always good to keep one handy, just in case of maurading Daxamites). Gand crash-lands on Earth, and the lead exposure gives him partial amnesia. He meets a young Clark Kent who initially theorizes that Lar must be a survivor of Krypton too. Selecting the day and his Kryptonian house, Clark names his long-lost 'brother' Mon-El. Gradually the lead poisoning worsens though, and the truth is uncovered. To save Mon's life, Clark uses his father's Phantom Zone projector to send the dying astronaut into the otherdimensional void of the zone to keep him from dying. Which is kind of like pushing someone off a cliff to keep them from burning to death, but hey, comicbook logic. Within the zone, Mon/Lar drifts for years, unable to do anything but watch the world go by as an intangible, inaudible, and invisible wraith. Through circumstances much too convoluted to get into here, he is released from the Zone with a cure for the lead poisoning. He's the young hero with a lot to prove in the book's new status quo.

Essentially the book is a depiction of Mon-El's first day on the job as Metropolis's new protector, with Guardian acting as his mentor and guide to a world he's only really experienced secondhand through the Zone. We also get bits of flashbacks as Superman prepares to leave Earth for New Krypton, giving everyone a chance to get ready for things once he's left. By book's end, we've established Mon-El as the new hero of Metropolis in a brawl with the supervillain Rampage, and Mon's civilian identity of Jonathan Kent as the newest member of the Science Police. A new character, Billi Harper (descendant of the original Jim Harper/Guardian I) is a potential love interest for Mon/Lar/Jon (oof), and John Henry Irons (aka Steel) acts as a link to the book's eponymous hero, acting as the voice of the Man of Tomorrow in his absence. It's basically the pilot for a new series-within-a-series.

Let's start with what I liked and then we'll segue into the stuff that irked. The art is really, really good here. Guedes has a style that is at once pseudo-realistic without taking me out of the four-color fantasy world that is a superhero comic. His depictions of Mon-El flying are really striking and he gets the look of all the main characters down pat. His style blends the kind of 'NYPD Blue Meets Justice League Unlimited' theme they seem to be shooting for in this book and I dig where it's coming from.

The initial premise kind of threw me, but after reading this first issue I have to say I'd like to see more of where this is going. The idea of heroes working to keep Metropolis safe while Superman is away dealing with the latest crisis du jour is an intriguing one, and I like the idea that in his absence it takes at least three heroes and an army of power-armor wearing cops to do what Superman does in basically an afternoon. Mon-El is a breath of fresh air in that he is a Superman archetype that doesn't have any heroic experience and needs a support base to help him. Guardian is kind of the Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon character; wondering if he's past it but he's still got a job to do and he'll be damned if he doesn't do it to the best of his ability. Jimmy Olsen will act as Mon-El's link to the world at large, pointing him toward more global crisis using the resources of the Daily Planet, while John Henry Irons will provide the kind of superhero mentoring for the 21st century that Guardian can't. It's an interesting setup with a lot of different ways to go. I'm almost sorry this'll all be swept away when Superman returns.

The use of Superman in the issue as kind of a nebulous figure, letting everyone know his game plan, what to expect from Mon-El, what to expect from his absence, was a nice touch too. The fact that we never really get a full-on look at Superman in the book is a neat little tease as well. Basically, if you want to see Superman, you need to pick up a copy of WORLD OF KRYPTON #1. He isn't going to be here anymore, this book belongs to Mon-El and the Guardian now.

So yes, very strong first outing. Now on to the things that rankle a bit:

The dialogue. Oh lordy. James Robinson is one of my all-time favorite comics writers; his work on STARMAN alone warrants its own lengthy diatribe(and will get one, I promise. Just have to finish the next More on Moore bit and we'll tuck into it), but for the love of God what the hell happened? Robinson's prose always leaned a bit toward the florid, but lately it's just gotten annoying. Take this bit of Superman dialogue I lift verbatim from a dialogue between Superman and Steel:

'I know you've not worn the armor as much of late. . .'

That's the line. Now can you see Tim Daly, George Newburn, or Christopher Reeve's voice reciting that piece of stilted verbiage? Not really. Ian McKellen maybe.

It's just so clunky. There are some easy fixes for this:

'I know you haven't been wearing the armor lately.' (see?)

Or

'I know you haven't been wearing your armor as much.' (it can be done)

Or even

'You haven't been wearing your armor much lately, I know.' (clumsy, but still)

Seriously DC, I will edit Robinson's dialogue for free. Contact information available upon request. A mere page later when talking to Jimmy Olson Superman sounds relatively normal, but the inconsistency is jarring nonetheless.

Another little thing, and it is a tiny nitpick at best, is the use of Rampage. Dr. Karen 'Kitty' Faulkner was an employee of S.T.A.R. Labs who--in the grand comicbook science tradition--got exposed to some eldritch energies and was transformed into a mohawked, musclebound marauder. She was recently featured in a couple episodes of Justice League Unlimited as a baddie, but for the most part she's been depicted as a woman who, while initially going loony, had her transformations and 'hulked-out' persona under control a la one Jennifer Walters. So why is she depicted as a supervillain? This may bring up the c-word (continuity!), but did I miss something? Either Robinson didn't do his research or they just threw her in to be 'random muscle mass for Mon-El to fight'. It struck me as lazy writing.

Still, these are minor quibbles at best. On the whole the book was enjoyable, and promises to lead into an entertaining storyline that I'm interested in following over the long haul.

Rating: 4/5

Until next time,

Stac