Blackest Night #1

Death and superheroes are a tricky thing; there’s an old joke about superhero heaven that it has a revolving door at the front, instead of pearly gates.  While this has always been a part of superhero culture, it seems to have really taken root at DC in recent years, with long-time corpses such as Jason Todd, Barry Allen, and Kara Zor-El all returning for various reasons.

Blackest Night seems to be set up to explore that, while at the same time serving as the next (final?) chapter in the epic “War of Light” storyline that’s been running through the Green Lantern books in recent years.  While the other Lantern Corps (aside from Green) have been content to identify themselves with differing emotions, the Black Lanterns are instead the living dead, brought back to consume the flesh of the living  Despite that naming structure, though, what this story really is is DC Zombies.

As if regular zombies weren’t enough of a threat, though, what we see with the Black Lanterns is superpowered zombies, as was also seen in the recent Marvel Zombies series of miniseries.  Here, though, the zombies aren’t played for laughs, nor are they hidden away in an alternate reality.  These facts, combined with the multiple character deaths in the first issue, help provide the level of peril necessary for any good zombie story; ironically, this is the same level of real peril that most ‘event’ comics lack, so it’s a good mix to have the two together.

Writer Geoff Johns does a really good job in this issue of exploring how constant rebirths of characters would affect the way people would look at death, especially in the scenes featuring Barry Allen, the Silver-Age Flash.  Allen seems to suffer from a fair amount of survivor’s guilt centered around his returning to life while other less marketable characters stay dead, and the rising of the Black Lanterns allows that inner struggle to be matched nicely against the larger outer story.

Hopefully, the remainder of Blackest Night will live up to the rather unique premise of superpowered zombies being empowered by extraterrestrial forces.  There’s a chance that, by the end, it will become another attempt by a DC writer to use a crossover event as a reset button to undo previous character deaths, but for now at least it should be an intriguing tale.

Irredeemable

One of the oldest and most popular concepts in literature is that of the ‘folk hero’; a hero who has had stories told about him over many centuries, media, and settings.  I’m thinking here of characters like Robin Hood, Arthur, and Hercules.  These are heroes for which there is no one, true version, for they have transcended from story into myth, and as such have become eternal.  A good argument could be made, I believe, that Superman has joined the ranks of those folk heroes in a lot of ways, as the archetypal form of the superhero.

The main difference, of course, between these other folk heroes and Superman is that he is currently under copyright, and as a result only certain authorized interpretations of the character have been allowed.  What has arisen over the years, in response to this, is a series of pseudo-Supermen who have allowed for other less orthodox interpretations of the character.  These have ranged from Fawcett’s Captain Marvel, to Robert Mayer’s Superfolks, McDuffie’s Icon, and most notably to Alan Moore’s work on titles such as Miracleman and Supreme.  In fact, as great as many of those stories were, there has been so much work done with pseudo-Supermen over the years that one could argue that it’s become its own genre in danger of overexposure.

Boom Studio’s Irredeemable is the latest title to add itself to that history.  The superman this time around is The Plutonian, and the story being told is one that is rarely seen in the capes-and-tights crowd: what is the process by which a hero becomes a villain?  While the idea of heroes becoming villains and vice-versa is an old one in and of itself, it’s usually something that happens as the result of a single, defining moment.  Waid’s thesis in Irredeemable is that it’s not so simple; while everyone seems to have their theories as to why the Plutonian turns to the dark side, it seems as though we are lead to believe that it is corruption by a thousand cuts rather than through one dramatic gesture.  While that thesis may seem more in line with David Carradine’s monologue in Kill Bill about Superman, rather than any of the recent material dealing with the character himself, but a case can be made that the Superman from the Kill Bill monologue is the version of the character that more individuals would be familiar with.  The Plutonian’s enhanced senses and other abilities make him exceedingly familiar with those around him, and, as often happens, that familiarity all too easily turned into contempt.

Waid has said in interviews that he felt that Irredeemable was the kind of story that could not be told within the universes of the traditional superhero publishers.  In many ways he’s right; in a Marvel or DC title, the force of the events in the book would have been limited by the inevitable abandonment and retconning of the Plutonian’s actions to make them more acceptable..  Waid also seems to avoid the plot twist of the hero only pretending to be evil to serve some better purpose by showing the full extent of the Plutonian’s actions.  He wantonly kills children, betrays the heroes closest to him, and commits acts of sexual violence.  While the book is rather graphic and violent at times, that violence is done to cement the new status of the Plutonian, rather than to just gratuitously show that violence for its own sake.

While Irredeemable is a very story-driven book, it’s worthwhile to take a moment to mention the art, as well.  Series artist Peter Krause draws characters that look like they would exist in the real world, with a realism to their costumes, postures, and facial expressions that at times is reminiscent of Dave Gibbon’s work on Watchmen, which is fitting given the content of the book.  That realism is coupled, as well, with an ability to be big and epic when the script requires it.

With its central mystery being used as a wrapper to contain these character analyses of heroes, villains, and the mass of humanity that lies between those two poles, Irredeemable is going to show up on a lot of “Best Of” lists at the end of the year; if you’re a superhero fan, you owe it to yourself to check it out sooner rather than later.

Detective Comics #854

In the modern era of superhero comics, two interconnected truisms have developed regarding mainstream superheroes.  The first is that no character death, no matter how final it seems, ever lasts.  The second, often connected to the first, is that every “bold new direction”taken by a publisher is eventually undone to return to the mainstream status quo.  With those two facts in mind, it’s necessary to take the “new era” of Detective Comics (in the wake of Batman’s recent death in Final Crisis) with a grain of salt.

With that grain of salt in mind, this issue is very new in some ways: Bruce Wayne’s no longer Batman, as a result of Final Crisis and the Battle for the Cowl series, and Katherine Kane, Batwoman, is part of the solution for Gotham in his absence starting in this issue.  Greg Rucka created the character, and as such has a really good grasp on her; she definitely seems like a well-thought out, rounded character even in this one appearance.  While some of Katerine’s actions in this issue place her in her own section of the Bat-family, other parts of the issue show her as a reflection of Batman himself, in terms of the relationship between her superhero and civilian identity, her support network, and her willingness to sacrifice personal relationships for the benefit of The Mission.

Perhaps the most noteworthy part of this issue, though, is the art by JH Williams III, which is absolutely gorgeous.  He manages to manipulate panel size and shape for emotional affect, as well as using completely different colour themes for the Batwoman and Katherine parts of the story.

The main drawback of the issue is, while it’s been solicited as a new era, and it’s the first issue of the title to star Batwoman, it feels very much like you’re dropped in the middle of an ongoing story, without being provided with any reference points as to what’s going on.  We’re told that there’s a group called the Religion of Crime, and that it’s organized into covens.  We’re told, also, that they’re a major threat, but we’re not given much reason as to why they are.  This reduces the seriousness of the threat they represent, leaving the reader not feeling any sense of real danger for Batwoman.

One of the things about this issue that should be applauded, as well, is that it features a return of the backup feature, with police detective Renee Montoya taking on the mantle of The Question.  The only problem with this is, as with the lead story, we have a lesbian vigilante fighting gangs in Gotham City under the tutelage of an older white male who takes care of the “Alfred” role in relation to the hero.  While both stories are well-done, and represent the start of interesting story, having both of them under the same cover only serves to lessen both stories by highlighting those similarities between the two of them.  Both stories would be better served by having Detective trade backup stories with one of the DC books featuring such backups, such as the Streets of Gotham series.

Ultimate Wolverine vs Hulk #5

Now don’t get me wrong – I’m a fan of the Ultimate Wolverine vs Hulk mini-series, but man, I wish writer Damon Lindelof would hurry up and show us the actual “vs” bit. Actually, after reading this issue, I wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t going to actually be a “vs” bit at all.

A quick recap for those who haven’t been following the story so far… After Bruce Banner escaped from a high-security S.H.I.E.L.D. prison, Nick Fury sent Wolverine to track him down. Wolverine tracked him down. That – aside from an brief glimpse of She-Hulk – is about the sum of it, plot wise, up until now.

There have been plenty of memorable moments – Hulk surrounded by a bevvy of semi-naked concubines, Logan being literally torn in half – and a smattering of dark, sometimes bizarre, humour, but as far as story goes there has been a lot of talking about the action, but very little action actually taking place. Which isn’t to say this is necessarily bad. As one of the writers on TV’s Lost, Lindelof plays to his strengths, jumping between flashback and the present with the practiced ease of a veteran.

His dialogue is good, if sometimes a bit gimmicky, and he has a solid grasp on the characters themselves. Leinil Francis Yu and Dave McCaig’s artwork is pitch-perfect for the series, somehow managing to look messy and tight at the same time. From the bizarre action of Wolverine’s fight with a talking panda, to the quirkiness of Forge’s surprise appearance, the art team get each panel just right, and every page is a joy to look at.

I’m honestly not sure what I think of this issue. It feels a lot like a filler chapter, designed solely to position the cast for the big climax, and as such it was never going to rate too highly. Still, despite the lack of action, and the fact the Hulk barely appears at all, it was quite an enjoyable read.

Yes, it’s flawed, but it’s a reminder of how fun the Ultimate Universe can be, and for that I can’t rate it too low. Whether Lindelof can pull everything together in the last issue remains to be seen, but I’ll definitely be picking up #6 and finding out for myself.