BOUGHT:
DC Finest: Justice Society of America: The Plunder of the Psycho-Pirate (DC Comics) This second DC Finest collection of the Golden Age All-Star Comics suggests that the Justice Society is finally going to get to fight an actual supervillain, after spending the first dozen or so issues of their adventures beating up gangsters and the occasional Axis agent or soldier. I mean, it's got the name of a supervillain right there in the title, doesn't it?Well, sorta.
The format of these issues is just the same as those in the previous collection, last December's For America and Democracy. The issue would open around the JSA's meeting table, where they would usually receive six-to-eight different related missions. They would then split up, each character starring in their own individual adventure, and then reconvene in the final pages, often dog-piling the villain of the piece. Conveniently, the various master criminals would seem to plan, say, eight different crimes to be executed simultaneously, and thus the members need never actually team-up with one another...at least not until the final pages, anyway, where they swarm the villains.
At this point, the JSA consists of Hawkman, The Spectre, The Atom, Doctor Mid-Nite, Doctor Fate, Starman, Johnny Thunder and The Sandman (sometimes accompanied in action by Sandy, who doesn't seem invited to the meetings).
Heck, they only rarely use their various crime-fighting gimmicks or fantastical super-powers, with even the nigh-omnipotent Spectre, Fate and Thunderbolt generally just using their fists on their opponents. In fact, Doctor Fate, for example, doesn't seem to use any magic at all throughout these dozen issues, with, perhaps, the exception of flying in one issue (And this he does by seemingly running through the air, rather than adopting a more Superman-like flying pose).
Golden Age super-comics dabbling in war-time propaganda is nothing new of course, but I was still somewhat surprised to see how far Fox and company went in these issues, and I wondered what those loud online voices who say that superhero comic books shouldn't be "political" would make of All-Star Comics between 1942 and 1945.
And then there's spring of 1945's issue #24, on the cover of which our heroes have assembled in a theater balcony to watch a film about war-like Germany, the text reading "All-Star Comics Presents This Is Our Enemy!"
The story is a doozy, and made me, an adult reader coming to it 80 years after it was created, awfully uncomfortable because of its stridency (I'm assuming it hit differently with children in the 1940s, though).
It opens with a splash page with prose reading:
This is the story of a nation—a degenerate nation whose people throughout the centuries have always been willing to follow their military leaders into endless, bloody, but futile wars!What was the reason for their constant belligerency? It was due entirely to a mad notion that they were a master race and destined to rule the world!
He makes various arguments, including that "Germany is in Europe...which makes it Europe's problem— Not ours!"
And so Dick starts out as a Teutonic knight in 1250 A.D. as he and his fellow knight make war on the Poles, and then he's whisked to 1725, where he spends a lifetime as a friend of Frederick Wilhelm, who will grow up to be king and wage wars of conquest, and on and on for four more stops, until 1923, when Hitler is starting to amass followers. ("Hitler? Phooey!" Johnny Thunder says, his head emerging from a cloud to scold an early follower of the future fuhrer. "You aren't paying any attention to that crack-brain, are you?" he says, before remembering he's not supposed to get involved and retreating back into his cloud).
I have learned the truth! That...for many centuries...Germanic rulers and military leaders have led a willing German people into war after war!
And, believe me, all this senseless useless, bloodletting was only for the personal satisfaction of these same military men and rulers...to build up their own ego!
...Unless we uproot the idea of a German "master race" above all religions, races and nationalities, Germany will always be a menace to peace!
Oh, it can...?
The plan is signed by the individual members of the Justice Society of America, as you can see above.
Now that's politics in comics. Some fans today whine if Superman says "a better tomorrow" instead of "the American way", while, 80 years ago, Gardner Fox had Wonder Woman and the also-rans of the JSA making specific foreign policy prescriptions!
So Scioli making a Godzilla comic? Yes, that sounds like it was commissioned specifically to appeal to me. The result, Godzilla's Monsterpiece Theatre, is a particularly weird comic, as the Fantastic Four #1 homage cover above suggests.
Can the human characters even be those from F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic 1925 novel The Great Gatsby?
So much, so familiar, right? And then on page six we see Godzilla's huge feet stomping toward Gatsby's estate, now bathed in blue flames. The leviathan leers through the windows. Gatsby and new friend (and novel narrator) Nick Carraway hop into a speedboat and cross the bay to save Daisy, Godzilla hot on their heels. They load her and her asshole husband Tom Buchanan aboard and take off, but Godzilla smashes the boat, and Daisy is lost at sea.
It sure seems like it from that cover, but no, not really. Gatsby remains the main human protagonist, and Daisy, almost immediately found washed up on a beach, and Tom ("Do you think I'd let my wife go on this fool misadventure without me?!") are key members of the supporting cast joining Gatsby as he travels the world, hunting Godzilla with various fantastical weapons with literary origins of their own. (As for Nick, he seems to have suffered a nervous breakdown after his encounter with Godzilla in the city, but not to worry: Gatsby has found Nick's "manuscript" and has decided "as a tribute to my good friend to complete his work, to tell the story of this moment in time, this turning point in history.")
Meanwhile Scioli's Godzilla, which he draws to resemble a particularly sharp-eyed, -clawed and -toothed version of one of the Showa suits as if it had somehow come alive (A neat trick also pulled off by Jake Smith in Godzilla: War for Humanity, although Smith's art has more detail and depth than Scioli's), travels the world, destroying its most interesting monuments.
Godzilla visits London, Paris, Egypt and finally Dracula's Transylvania, destroying various landmarks in visually striking, occasionally anime-inspired ways (this Godzilla has a tendency to destroy things by cutting them perfectly in half, as if he had used a giant sword), and picking up unlikely enemies along the way. (In one scene, a mummy rises from the wreckage of a pyramid, to the horror of the men gathered around it, one of whom says, "The curse of the pharaoh Utma Utep says that whomever disturbs his tomb will be pursued to death and beyond," while the mummy proceeds, arms outstretched horizontally, to walk right past them. "We didn't disturb the tomb," one says, watching the mummy walk off-panel. "Godzilla did." Naturally, the mummy will play a role later.)
Now I know I have mainly been talking about the story, rather than the art, which is a failing that comes from my being a writer rather than an artist. If you've read Scioli's work before—and I do hope you have, given how great it is—then you should know what to expect. It's definitely still Jack Kirby-influenced, although he's not working in the same deliberate Kirby pastiche of some of his earliest comic work, and his art is still tending towards simplification, the pages consisting of a few big, bold, flat, colorful images, those colors carefully chosen, and tending to be solid and primary, with no real gradation.
Scioli's image-making power is on full display here, as he approaches Godzilla's acts of destruction as works of cartoon art, symbol acting upon symbol to look cool and have as much impact as possible, rather than necessarily detailing what, say, Godzilla bathed in flames, or Godzilla being shot through with electricity while gripping the Eiffel Tower, or what Godzilla smashing The Great Sphinx of Giza might look like "in real life."
Here's a bad photo:
Of course, I am curious how it would read if one has never read The Great Gatsby (or at least seen one of the many movies), just as I'm not entirely sure how it would read had someone never seen any Godzilla movies, although I think the imagery of those films is more ingrained in our pop culture than any of that from Fitzgerald's novel.
I suppose, to be on the safe side, if you haven't read The Great Gatsby, read that, and then pick up Godzilla's Monsterpiece Theatre....
Both seem to be much smaller scale and to deal with smaller stakes than the stories of the first two volumes, and, perhaps because of this, felt a little bit more like Birds of Prey stories. That is, they seem to be a bit more grounded and realistic than the more fantastical arcs dealing with Amazons, Greek gods and interdimensional travel; more espionage than superhero. (It's all a matter of degree, of course, as Bids is still a DC Universe superhero title...these particular stories just felt a bit more Batman than JLA to me, if that makes sense.)
In "Bird Undercover", we see Cassandra Cain in a quite cool outfit interviewing/fighting for a job as some kind of security consultant for a shady corporation. Said corporation has apparently taken various Amazons captive, and is doing something horrible to them; Cass' job is to make sure they are there, and then call in the rest of the team to bust them out.
Here, that team includes not only series regular Oracle, Black Canary and Big Barda, but also guest-stars Grace Choi and Obsidian, both of whom Basri draws as extremely big and buff (And neither of whom I've seen anywhere in quite a while).
There is, of course, a complication, and the team loses contact with Cass, fretting over whether or not to intervene, balancing their concern for her well-being with endangering the mission (and thus the Amazons and other victims).
Like I said, it's much smaller scale than the previous stories, but it's also much more emotionally satisfying, I think, as Thompson presents us with a great Cassandra Cain action story, while also showing us how the team feel about one another and how they deal with the stresses of their job...I can't remember the last superhero comic I've read in which the characters worried so much.
While I still think it's a bummer that the book's initial artist, Leonardo Romero, didn't stick around (he does continue to contribute covers, including that for the collection above), Basri's art is so great, I didn't really miss Romero here. Thompson has a welcome habit of writing very distinct characters—even the handful of bad guys here are quite distinct in personality—and Basri follows suit in his designs and rendering for the characters.
I thought the bad guys' super-drug that turns those injected with it into Hulked-out monsters bulging muscles streaked with pulsing veins, was a little much, with Basri drawing its effects kinda like it was the steroid/helium blend that later artists tended to depict Bane's venom injections with. Surely by this point, we know that a Cassandra Cain that wants to hurt you is terrifying, whether or not she has huge biceps.
Anyway, if Basri were to become the title's regular artist going forward, I wouldn't mind at all.
In "Divide and Conquer," Oracle learns that the ninjas who are traditionally after Sin are still after Sin, and so, with Black Canary and Sin, she sets a trap, in which the bait beats the holy hell out of all the ninjas, hopefully convincing them to leave Sin alone from now on (The goddess she shares her body with, Megaera, providing quite a bit of unexpected help in the matter).
Meanwhile, to give Batgirl and Barda something to do, they go to that weird magic place from the first volume to help out Constantine; it's mainly busy work, it seems, but it's a visually interesting place and, in costume, they're both visually interesting characters. (I must confess that it's a little weird that Constantine has become something of a Birds of Prey regular; that's certainly not something I would have expected to ever be the case, say, 20 years ago...)
Oh, and I noticed that in this volume Sin no longer has the green streak in her hair. I wonder if someone at DC heard me when I pointed out that Asian women-with-colored-streaks-in-their-hair is a prevalent media stereotype that annoys real Asian women or, more likely, they heard an actual Asian woman raise the same concern somewhere...?
Anyway, this was a very enjoyable book, and probably my favorite of the three so far.
Now That We Draw Vol. 2 (Seven Seas Entertainment) The cover of writer Kyu Takahata and artist Yuwji Kaba's second volume of Now That We Draw is much less embarrassing than the first (Covered in this column). I felt I could read this one in public without feeling like a pervert. I think the imagery focused on female lead Miyamoto Niina has been toned down a bit too, but maybe just a bit...?
The book opens with her, dressed only in her underwear and a robe, stumbling into male lead Uehara Yuuki, falling on top of him. Rather than being embarrassed, though, she's excited: "It really happened," she says, excitedly, "The suggestive collision happened in real life!" Of course, the premise of the series is that the two young aspiring manga artists are complete neophytes at romance, and are thus teaming up to pretend to date, in order to get more experience with relationships, and thus, hopefully, material for their manga.
There's also a scene where, when Uehara says he need to get better at drawing the human figure, Miyamoto invites him to the beach, where she poses for him in her bikini. Too embarrassed to look directly at her body though (something artist Yuwji certainly isn't afraid to draw), he looks past it, and thus his art isn't really any better ("I'm pretty sure my boobs are bigger than that," she says, examining his sketchbook).
That's also where, when some guys start hitting on her, he feels a weird tightness in his chest and is unsure of what this new feeling is (It's jealousy, and he'll experience it a second time, with more disastrous results, later in the book).
This volume also reveals the rather touching origins of each character's desire of growing up to be an artist, and progress in their budding careers, as each gets a job as a manga assistant, for an artist of the opposite sex who is certain to complicate the romantic arc between the two, as unlikely as that seems at this point As I said before, Uehara seems to need to have a growth spurt before the two even begin to look like a potential couple).
The manga-ka Miyamoto will be working on is a legendary one, a very popular female artist with an entire staff...who actually turns out to be a handsome young man, one who is, according to Miyamoto, "super hot!!" and "exactly my type!"
Meanwhile, Uehara is assigned to work with a mysterious artist who is reportedly very difficult to work with, who turns out to be a very cute (and, when he meets her, very underdressed) young girl about his age, despite how much more skilled (and successful) she is.
I remain intrigued by the premise and seeing how on Earth the creators are ultimately going to get these two characters together, as, despite the similarities, they are so very physically different from one another.
Oh, one thing that I'm not sure any of you will be able to answer or not. On two occasions during this volume, adult characters refer to Miyamoto as a gyaru. This despite the fact that she doesn't have the dyed blonde hair, tanned-skin or over-the-top make-up of gals I've seen in other manga, like Manbagi Rumiko from Komi Can't Communicate or Miku Okazaki from Gal Gohan. Are there different styles of gyaru and, if so, what about Miyamoto denotes her as one? Is it just a fashion thing...?
I mean, I like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I like everything of writer Jason Aaron's that I've read. before. The high-profile, rotating artists on the first handful of issues—Rafael Albuqueque, Chris Burnham, Cliff Chiang, Joelle Jones, Darick Robertson—sounded intriguing. And after some dozen years and who knows how many hundreds of pages, a new direction and potential starting point for what has long since become the longest-ever TMNT narrative seemed like a pretty good idea.
But then I noticed the trade was already being ordered by my local library before I bought a copy and, given that I already have way too many books on my groaning shelves, I decided to save myself $20 and just borrow it rather than buy it. That's why it's down here in this section of the column, rather than up top, with the other books I was so excited about that I had decided I had to own them (It's occurred to me that this format has probably outlived its usefulness; like, do any of you care whether I buy a particular book or borrow it from the library? At one point, I figured it denoted a level of interest/excitement regarding the books, but, like I said, I now have so many books that I'm buying fewer and fewer...)
In the end, I'm glad I didn't buy this. At $19.99 for six issues (plus a 10-page short and a variant cover gallery), it's a pretty great value, but, overall, I wasn't too terribly impressed with the book and can't imagine it being one I wish to read over and over again.
It certainly starts strong, though.
The first four issues of the book each featured a different one of the four original Turtles (the newer, fifth turtle, Jennika, is surely appearing in one of the other IDW book set in their TMNT universe, but I don't know which one), all of whom have been separated and scattered, leading extremely different lives after something mysterious and as-of-yet-unrevealed happened to them. And each of these issues is dawn by a different artist.
After a 10-page short featuring Donatello drawn by Burnham (taken from the pages of the line resetting TMNT Alpha one-shot), we get a story of Raphael in prison, where he is apparently serving as some kind of undercover enforcer for the warden, drawn by Jones; the story of Michelangelo in Japan, where he is a feted celebrity and the star of his own goofy live-action TV show, by Albuquerque; the story of Leonardo on the banks of the Ganges River, where he seeks enlightenment, and develops a weird relationship with the local population of regular turtles, by Chiang; and, finally, the full story of Donatello, half-starved and half-mad, being kept in a cage at a weird safari park, where customers pay to fight and kill mutants, by Burnham.
That accounts for much of the book, and it's pretty intriguing. Each issue is very different from the next, in terms of premise, tone and, obviously, the visuals, and all have a suspenseful element of mystery about them, as the reader is left wondering why the protagonists aren't together at the moment, and how each of them ended up where they are.
While there are few clues offered in the stories themselves, they all sort of end the same way, with the Foot Clan attacking the Turtles where they are, and thus driving them to seek one another out, so that by the end of the fourth issue, they are all in the same place at the same time again, even if not exactly all on the same page (Raph and Mike are at one another's throats about whatever had happened prior to the story, and Donnie is still half-mad...I'm not entirely sure if this is the result of his messing with time, space and magic at the end of the previous volume of the title, or of his treatment as a captive or a combination of both things).
Along the way, it's teased out that Karai's Foot Clan seems to be operating alongside a new villain, the new New York City District Attorney with the unlikely name of Heironymus Hale. Issue #5, drawn by Robertson, focuses on Hale, who he is and how he came to be, and it is pretty much free from the Turtles, who only appear in a quartet of panels showing each being attacked by the Foot.
The issue opens with Hale on the steps of the state Supreme Cout building, telling the press he won't be taking any questions at this time ("Or ever"), and then ordering what appears to be his personal security force, "The Foot Patrol", to violently dispense with the "mob" that is there to protest against them.
Dressed in red and black, with their faces covered with masks and wrap-around sunglasses, they look like a combination of regular Foot ninja and our over-militarized police forces. (The issue came out in December of last year, so if Aaron's Foot Patrol reminds you of ICE, that's just one more example of the current American government acting like comic book supervillains, rather than the comics addressing their actions; more likely, Hale's new force is meant to reflect the old, run-of-the-mill form of overbearing, abusive, militarized policing, of the sort we saw so many examples of during the nationwide Black Lives Matter protests.)
So the new villain is apparently an evil, species-ist (read: racist), wannabe fascist who has all of the power and prestige that comes with being in control of a government institution. With the title being launched between the end of the first Trump administration and the beginning of the next, that probably seems pretty timely, but, given that it's taking place in what is essentially another mainstream superhero comic book series, it also seems a little tired.
I mean, DC had Lex Luthor elected president of the United States in 2001. Marvel had Norman Osborn put in charge of H.A.M.M.E.R., and thus was the government's Boss of All Superheroes, throughout its 2009 "Dark Reign" era. More recently, Marvel had made The Kingpin Wilson Fisk the mayor of New York City. And, closer to home of course, long-time villain Baxter Stockman was the mayor of NYC in the pages of the previous volume of TMNT and its related comics.
So, between real bad guys being in charge of the federal government in real life and a string of bad guys in charge in the comics over the last 25 years or so, Aaron positing an evil DA? It doesn't seem particularly new, and thus isn't terribly interesting, let alone compelling.
It's certainly not as interesting as the handful of unanswered questions that the first four issues raised, including, I suppose, why the Foot has become enemies of our heroes once again, but Aaron doesn't really address those in the sixth and final issue in this collection, which was drawn by the series' regular artist-to-be, Juan Ferreyra.
That issue involves the Turtles bickering with one another as they return to the city (see the sub-title), where they find that it has completely turned against them, and they are branded criminals and chased around and fought. Not only is the Foot Patrol after them, but so too are regular police officers and even firemen. It ends with our heroes seemingly cornered in Times Square.
Aaron's off to a fairly strong start then, seeding the narrative with enough question marks to guarantee a degree of suspense, more so about what happened into the past to get us to this point than what might happen in the future (This being a Turtles comic, we can safely assume the Turtles will survive their current predicament and go one to have many more years or decades of adventures, of course).
On the other hand, the Turtles fighting the Foot Clan yet again isn't exactly a terribly exciting premise, nor, as I've said, is the prospect of another bad guy-in-charge storyline. I suppose we'll see.
I appreciated the opportunity this book gave us to see so many different artists draw these so familiar characters. Burnham's Turtles were my favorites. He seemed to draw the beak/mouth area on them just right, so that the characters looked like "themselves", as I remembered them from the old Mirage comics.
I also liked that he tended to draw them a little smaller and thinner...particularly Donatello, whom I think is meant to be significantly thinner than his brothers, perhaps because he was being starved, and perhaps because the gradual tendency to depict the characters as more physically distinct from one another across various media (and Donnie usually being taller and or thinner than the others). Regardless, he's still notably thinner in the sixth issue, when Ferreyra draws them all.
Burnham's art also has a lot of dark, thick ink on the page, and thus has a grittier look that calls to mind Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird's Turtles art (Eastman continues to contribute covers; you can see some of them in the back of the book).
I also liked Roberston's issue, although, as I said, we only get a glimpse of what his Turtles might have looked like, the rest of the book being devoted to Hale, the Foot, Casey Jones and, in a few panels, April, Bebop and Rocksteady (Robertson also drew some covers featuring his version of the Turtles, which you can see in the back).
Chiang's art was also quite notable, perhaps because of how dramatically it differed from that of all the other artists. He colored his own issue, and his art is notably cleaner, flatter and with brighter, more solid colors than those in any other issue here. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing Chiang do a miniseries or something with these characters in the future.
As always, there were a gazillion variant covers, enough that there's a 15-page gallery in the back, most of those pages featuring four covers a piece. There are some surprising names among the artists who drew them, including Lee Weeks, Peach Momoko, Sean Murphy and Lee Bermejo (whose scaly Turtle skin recalls the weirdly realistic Turtles of the late Michael Zulli). I liked the four portrait-style ones from a J. Gonzo, whose big-eyed Turtles reminded me a bit of the way Eric Talbot draws them...and, look at that, there's even a Talbot cover, featuring a wounded and mean-looking Raphel.
Oh, one unexpected aspect of the book? Once the Turtles get back together and shed the clothes they were wearing—Raphael's prison jump suit, Donatello's hooded cloak, etc.—they appear as they traditionally have, in just their masks, belts, pads and straps. But after reading Sophie Campbell's fairly lengthy run, where the Turtles were almost always dressed in at least pants or shorts or capes, they all look so nude now...!
I think it's actually going to take me a while to get used to seeing the Turtles depicted this way again, after having spent the last few years seeing them fully dressed...
Arsenal, who has been notably MIA thus far, will be joining the team.
And, finally, Donna Troy will be assuming the role of team leader, something that her and the other characters talk about more-or-less constantly for these half-dozen issues.
Oh, and the team is moving to a new HQ, too, abandoning the still-new Bludhaven Titans Tower that they moved into at the beginning of the series to move into a new underground base in New York City.
So, question: Is "Good Guy Gang" a better team name than "Justice Gang"...? I think so, but I guess they should vote.
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