Underrated/Overlooked: X-Factor: The Longest Day

I’ve long wanted to (and really should) ask Peter David how he landed on Havok, Polaris, Wolfsbane, Multiple Man, Strong Guy and Quicksilver as the at-first-glance (and really any glance) eclectic line-up for his wonderful and legendary original run on X-Factor. Was this the group he personally wanted to work with? Was it the leftover mutants who weren’t already on one of the X-Men teams or X-Force? Did an editor or pitch from another writer hand it to him?

Reading the Muir Island Saga, they were obviously setting something up (Polaris, Strong Guy and Multiple Man all figure into the story), but I’d be interested to know who came up with the team and why.

Regardless, it worked, as that mesh of personalities, temperaments and powers made for an entertaining, intelligent and unique era of X-Men stories that were as funny as anything to ever creep out of the mutant corner of the Marvel Universe but also powerful and emotional. So much of that came from the relationships between the characters, whether it was Havok and Polaris trying to make their romance work (and Wolfsbane getting in the midst against her will), Strong Guy and Madrox’s great friendship, Val Cooper trying to get a handle on this rowdy bunch, or everybody hating Quicksilver.

This group dynamic made for one of my favorite stories of the time, which featured little in the way of action and much more in the way of character development. Interestingly, it was also not written by Peter David, though it utilized much of what he had set up during his tenure on the book. The story was “The Longest Day,” a two-parter by Scott Lobdell that ran in issues #93 and #94, putting some bows on things PAD had done and setting up the status quo for incoming writer J.M. DeMatteis, with veteran artists Paul Smith and Paul Ryan switch hitting.

Issue #93 kicks off with Havok and Wolfsbane visiting the familiar setting of Xavier’s School for the Gifted to pay their respects following Illyana Rasputin’s death from the Legacy Virus. There’s a chilling moment where Rahne goes to hug Illyana’s despondent brother, Colossus, and he stands expressionless and motionless (perfectly portrayed by Paul Smith’s simple but pronounced line work) to the gesture. Wolfsbane also has a nice sequence with Professor X demonstrating how far she’s come from being the wallflower of the original New Mutants while also highlighting some of the tragedy in her life that will be explored a bit more next issue.

The highlight of the Xavier School sequence for me though is the “bonding” time between Havok and his older brother Cyclops. I wrote last week about how interesting I find this dynamic and this issue is a good example of its potential in action. While Rahne does her thing, Scott and Alex have a “friendly” game of handball in the Danger Room that, like everything with them, quickly becomes an intense competition with Cyclops having the natural advantage and Havok doing his best to keep up. As they play, they discuss their differences in everything from their love lives to their leadership styles and Scott plays archetypal older brother, “helpfully” chiding Alex on needing to lock things down with Lorna and rein in control over his team. In a nice twist, rather than have a tantrum, Havok stands his ground, justifying solidly why he does things the way he does, and in the process starts winning the game—then things get heated enough that Cyclops pulverizes the ball with an optic blast (of course). They part with a smile and handshake, but you can still see the tension, and I personally applauded Alex’s little pyrrhic victory.

Meanwhile, across the universe—literally—Strong Guy has been abducted by his old boss Lila Cheney, intergalactic rock star and mutant teleporter, who wants Guido to come back to work as her bodyguard. Lila pulls Guido straight out of bed, and since the man sleeps in the nude, it gives Smith some fun sight gags to play with as a giant, naked man finds himself in the midst of an alien rock concert. The long and short of it is that Guido has matured—slightly—from being a purely comedic character thanks to the work of Peter David, and he makes that case here to Lila, who reluctantly kicks him back to Earth; it’s another bit that will be picked up more next issue, but it’s a cute sequence with fun art.

Lastly, there’s a smaller side plot where Quicksilver has been ordered to start wearing a uniform more in line with the rest of the team—Polaris has also been asked to swap her provocative Joe Quesada-designed number for something more wholesome—and he’s not happy about it. After putting on his new costume—which is a pretty funny send-up of 90’s gear with a million pieces of tech, a dozen pouches, a visor and more—he complains about not liking it and not wanting to be part of any team anyhow, in the process using his super speed to discard all the extraneous junk and come out with a sleek look he reluctantly admits is cool, thus also reluctantly admitting he’s part of the team (unfortunately he was gone literally the next issue, shunted over to Avengers, a shame because this was a development that could have led to some neat stuff).

Issue #93 ends with Val Cooper revealing Forge as the new government liaison for X-Factor (to the audience, the team doesn’t find out until #95), then #94 picks up with a framing sequence of her briefing her successor as we get parallel narratives featuring Havok and Polaris as well as Wolfsbane and Strong Guy.

The Havok/Polaris stuff is basically them out to dinner discussing life and their relationship, which may sound a bit mundane, but considering this is a couple that has been fighting for years to have a nice, quiet life together that’s been interrupted by aliens, possession, amnesia and more, it’s a refreshing breather and plenty interesting to boot; it also segues nicely from Alex’s chat with Cyclops about why he and Lorna are different than Scott and Jean. There’s also a recurring bit where they’re seated near an anti-mutant bigot who keeps offending Alex, but Lorna tells her man to relax…until the guy goes too far and she uses her magnetic powers to have his silverware attack him; fun stuff.

Probably the most deeply emotional sequence of the entire two-part story is the stuff with Wolfsbane and Strong Guy. Rahne is headed to Genosha where they’re going to try and undo the previous corrupt government there made of her mind and body—bonding her to Havok in a way that makes him more or less her master and her seem like a bit of a crazy stalker in the process—though there is a good chance it could end up making her worse. Guido assumes he was asked along because he’s funny and can lighten the mood, but he learns that’s not the case.

Rahne tells a story about how when Guido had the team up to his childhood home (I think—it wasn’t a story that actually occurred, just a flashback) she was up early and saw him outside meditating, looking like the saddest guy in the world; she asked him along because she thought he was the only one who could understand the pain she was in. This calls back to the famous Doc Samson “X-Aminations” issue of X-Factor by David and Quesada wherein Guido confesses that his powers leave him in constant physical agony and being the class clown is one of the ways he distracts himself.

Guido doesn’t out and out admit any of this to Rahne, but lets her know that he does indeed understand, leading to a tender moment where she resumes her human form for the first time in years and falls unconscious into his arms.

And that’s it (well, a cliffhanger of Random saying he’s going to kill Polaris is “it,” but still): two issues, no fights, no real action of any kind to speak of, just a lot of talking and unburdening of emotions.

And it’s awesome.

These two issues have never fit nicely into a collection (that I’m aware of), but if you happen upon them at a store or convention, I’m sure they’re cheap and you’ll be getting more than your money’s worth, whether you’re an X-Factor fan or just looking for some touching writing and quality art. And to come full circle, it’s a testament to this line-up and what Peter David laid down with them that another writer can come in for a two-part quickie like this and do such impressive stuff.

Would still love to know where this grouping came from…

Hulk in Space

I’d wager when asked to picture The Hulk—a bizarre request in everyday life, but totally par for the course if you’re reading this blog, I imagine—most of you flash to a desert or shattered cityscape as your setting, the big guy having either leapt into scene or just finished demolishing an opponent and probably lots of property. Cinematic and television portrayals of the character tend to point him towards either heavily urban areas rife for destruction or the calm of nature for moments of reflection that play against the beast’s violent existence.

It’s interesting to note then that while the default locale for The Hulk would be against concrete or sand, many of the best—and my favorite—stories starring him take place in the far reaches of outer space.

In its way, Planet Hulk is more of a gladiator story, at home on the same shelf as Conan or, well, Gladiator, but science fiction trappings play a pivotal role. Even if Hulk and his Warbound are swinging axes or maces at one another in a sparse arena, technology drives the story, beyond just the explanation of enslavement or means for the villain’s power, but also as bookends that drive the story to and from Sakaar. That The Hulk is an alien unbalances the setting and sets up revolution, but the notions he introduces coupled with the very technology that accompanied him literally and figuratively blow up this exotic setting.

The presence of a diverse cast that varies not just in character but their very species, from the familiar Brood to the races dreamt up by Greg Pak and his conspirators, sits at the core of Planet Hulk. As Pak has said many times, Planet Hulk—and his indeed his entire run with The Hulk—is largely about a monster finding his place and that there’s somewhere for everybody to belong; that Bruce Banner needs to travel light years and associate with bugs who walk like men to find his was a great tale to tell, and the gaining and losing of this enriched the overall lore.

It also doesn’t hurt that when you move The Hulk out of the desert and away from the familiar tanks and soldiers out into the galaxy where he’s got giant space monsters and elaborate robots to smash, it’s a lot of fun; there is an inner depth to the character, certainly, but an outward joy in his appeal as active protagonist as well.

One of my personal favorite Hulk yarns from my beloved Peter David era was “The Troyjan War,” a mid-90’s mini-epic illustrated by Gary Frank that had Banner and the Pantheon journey to the heart of an interstellar empire to save one of their own from a forced marriage. It was during the “Smart Hulk” era and as such while it shared a setting—albeit a vast and multifaceted one—with Planet Hulk, it was a very different kind of space saga.

Among the many beauties of PAD’s “Professor Hulk” was that he could recognize the absurdity of certain situations, even if that didn’t necessarily mean he would do much to combat said absurdity (like when he had the giant gun and the bunny slippers during “War and Pieces”). When it came to “Troyjan War,” Banner felt out of his element as a guy who solved most problems via punching when he got stuck floating through the cosmos or on the verge of that situation when in space stations he could not cut loose in lest he risk losing gravity’s sweet embrace. PAD and Frank made the most of this for laughs and sight gags, as they so often expertly did, whether it was Hulk sitting on the Silver Surfer’s board to hitch a ride or the goofy visual of him in a giant space suit. There were hard-hitting emotional elements to “Troyjan War” that I would delve deeper into were this post solely about that story, but as with all the crème de la crème of the PAD run, that didn’t stop it from being funny as well.

Speaking of The Silver Surfer, he’s a guest star in both Planet Hulk and “Troyjan War,” as well of course as a recurring ally of the Hulk’s in the Defenders. The Surfer and The Hulk make for an interesting pair as both are displaced “others,” generally separated from the ones they love and lost in exile, though one represents extreme introspection and the other impotent rage at their respective imprisonments. The Surfer’s most noteworthy estrangements from happiness place him physically far from home, whereas the Hulk’s don’t always put literal distance between him and what he wants so much as emotional degrees, making it interesting when the latter does experience the former’s dilemmas in stories like the ones mentioned. They’re similar in some respects, opposite in others and good foils for one another.

I’m not as familiar with the classic Hulk stories set in Jarella’s world or the Bill Mantlo “Crossroads” stuff, but while I know they take place in other dimensions rather than outer space, there’s certainly a common ground there. From what I’ve gathered, in both cases and a lot of others, it’s the Hulk’s durability as a character that can move between genres and landscapes with relative ease given how his demeanor and language is fairly adaptable, that makes him ideal for stories like the ones Harlan Ellison liked to dabble in. You move Spider-Man to the Microverse, there’s a certain amount of incompatibility that demands to be played for laughs just with the quips, but Hulk can grunt and punch his way through a fantasy setting or be darkly clever in sci-fi; green and purple seems to blend.

Outer space and inter-dimensional adventure has become as much a part of the Hulk mythos over the years as strength-based slugfests and psychological examination, and it makes sense to me. For one, The Hulk is at his gamma-irradiated heart a science fiction concept, set apart from the street level Daredevil or mythological Thor by his origin ripped from 60’s atomic nightmares; the stars are the logical extension of his genre. The Hulk is also a force that demands sufficient challenges and for which the stakes must consistently be raised; we can believe Spider-Man would be preoccupied by an old guy with wings, but the Green Goliath needs the caliber or competition sometimes only an interstellar armada or hostile planet can provide.

However, it’s also about breaking beyond the brilliant Jekyll/Hyde dynamic the Hulk’s existence centers around and flipping it on its axis. In stories like Planet Hulk or in the journeys to Jarella’s, we get to see our hero take a break from being the outcast and affirm or question his own values when he’s on the same setting as those around him rather than consumed with being hunted and hounded.

You can tell Hulk stories that are just him beating up The Rhino, you can ruminate on the origins of his dark side for psychological fodder and you can use him as the pivot for great comedy. But you can also drop him into strange settings, post him up against the craziest aliens you can come up with, and do your ode to whatever space opera floats your starship with an undercurrent commentary on the human condition.

For a character still best known as a guy who likes to smash stuff, The Hulk has incredible depth.

Back to the Future: Marvel 2099

We’ve still got 88 years to see if “Shock” catches on as a curse word or a religion gets organized around Thor, but already Marvel’s 2099 line of comics—despite only lasting six years—has proven groundbreaking in its own way.

The 2099 imprint kicked off in 1992 as a look at the possible future of the Marvel Universe with four core titles centered around three new versions of familiar characters and one all-new creation: Spider-Man 2099, Punisher 2099, Doom 2099 and Ravage 2099. It was an interesting mix with Marvel’s most recognizable figure, one of the most popular stars of the 90’s, a classic villains featured as a protagonist for the first time ever and a wild card co-created by none other than Stan Lee.

All four pillars of 2099 were a mixture of familiarity and experimentation. Miguel O’Hara, aka Spider-Man, was a scientist and a wisecracker like his predecessor, but notably older and with a darker edge, his humor coming in the form of cynicism rather than quips and his motivation having as much to do with revenge and survival as responsibility. The new Punisher, Jake Gallows, emerged from virtually the same circumstances as Frank Castle—his family being killed by criminals—but lived in a world where corruption generally trumped law and thus coming off far more sympathetic in his violent approach to justice than his counterpart. Doom’s origins were tinged in mystery, as he claimed to be the original bearer of the name, but in this time he acted more as a hero than a tyrant. Paul-Phillip Ravage—showing that Stan Lee had weaned somewhat off his alliteration addiction by the 90’s but not completely—was a corporate CEO forced into a life of fugitive vigilantism when he questioned his corporate masters and was framed for murder.

As far as my personal experience, I sampled Spider-Man 2099 and would check in occasionally, but wasn’t a regular reader. I bought the first issue of Punisher 2099—the first Punisher comic of any kind I ever purchased, I believe—and was intrigued, but for whatever reason did not get #2. I didn’t pick up any of the early issues of Doom 2099 or Ravage 2099, despite the concept of Doom as a hero and a new Stan Lee creation grabbing my attention at least in passing.

X-Men 2099 was the book that brought me into the imprint—as detailed here—as I was buying anything X-Men at the time and also loved the work of artist Ron Lim. When the five titles crossed over in “Fall of the Hammer” I got every chapter, which prompted me to buy a few more issues of Spider-Man 2099 as well as at least one non-Stan Lee-written Ravage 2099, but I disengaged quickly and then stuck with X-Men until Lim left before departing myself.

There were many additional points I contemplated checking out more 2099—when Doom took over America or when he got deposed and half the original characters got killed—but I never took that leap. It’s only now, having read a bit more of the imprint in trade and random issues as well as having the whole of its span to step back and look at, that I can see how prescient 2099 was in many ways.

Building the world of 2099 was not that unlike building the original Marvel Universe in the Silver Age must have been, with distinct and disparate characters linked together by their shared world. Where Stan Lee and his collaborators used the familiarity of New York City and little touches like newspaper headlines and cameos, the founding fathers of 2099 created an elaborate and thought out landscape where corporations became king and the comfortable heroes we knew were elevated to mythic proportions as avatars of an idyllic age. Big business as the ultimate villain and embodied by Alchemax, the company where Miguel O’Hara worked and came into his abilities, took central root in Spider-Man 2099, but played a major part in Ravage, influenced the creation of the Punisher, and would eventually show up in Doom, X-Men, Hulk, Ghost Rider and the rest. The Thorite religion was first touched upon by Jake Gallows, but would again spread across 2099 and serve as the core of its first crossover.

By 1992, the idea of an editorial office coordinating multiple titles was not a new one, as the X-Men fielded a minimum of four books at any given time and regularly crossed stories from one to the other. A fledgling imprint where characters shared aspects was not groundbreaking either, given the New Universe a few years earlier, Valiant hitting its stride and Milestone around the corner. Yet the cohesive future world imagined by 2099 and the ways in which the series within seemed to mesh so naturally and remain able to still stand on their own certainly merits some kudos.

It’s also interesting to look at the range of creative voices when it comes to the writers responsible for the 2099 books and impressive how in step such a varied group was. You had the already veteran Peter David on Spider-Man, relative rookie John Francis Moore on Doom—and later X-Men—the British duo of Pat Mills and Tony Skinner on Punisher, and of course Stan Lee on Ravage. Chuck Dixon and Len Kaminski would be among the others to dip their toes in the 2099 pool, and Warren Ellis made some of his first major contributions to American comics with a run on Doom 2099 that would revamp the entire line. It’s a testament to editor Joey Cavalieri that he was able to mesh these disparate voices into a comics symphony.

Speaking of the Ellis-helmed Doom 2099, it led to the kind of line-wide overhaul we see frequently today, but was not common practice in the mid-90’s. Ellis revealed Doom to conclusively be the original and then had him take over the United States, sending ramifications through every 2099 title—the whole imprints was renamed “2099 A.D.” standing for “2099 After Doom”—from the Punisher becoming his enforcer as leader of a reconstituted S.H.I.E.L.D. to the X-Men receiving their own West coast “Utopia” nearly two decades before it was trendy. Major characters like The Punisher, Ravage and The Hulk met their end when Doom got ousted from office and every title again underwent seismic changes (this is about the time I jumped off, as I was getting out of comics for a bit altogether).

Looking back, while Doom conquering America is the type of thing that would never fly in the Marvel Universe circa 1994 or so, it made for a great story 15 years later with Norman Osborn in a similar—albeit fairly different—position. I’m not saying Dark Reign was a retread of After Doom—beyond the surface similarities there’s far more different than the same, and the basic trope is a pretty well-worn one—but 2099 was in some ways Marvel’s testing ground of the early-to-mid 90’s; the place you could try stuff out and go wild with familiar but not identical toys, not totally unlike the Ultimate Universe of today.

2099 would only really have a four-year golden age, then two years of false restarts and final epilogues—after a tidal wave destroyed most of the world, Miguel O’Hara eventually found a frozen Captain America, restarted the Avengers, then became a figurehead who secretly had Thor’s hammer while the formerly dark corporate future became a paradise—but it left an indelible mark. Alternate reality storylines nearly always make a detour to 2099. Events by Robert Kirkman and Brian Reed have put new spins on the line. Miguel O’Hara frequently makes appearances in toy and video game form, including the upcoming Spider-Man: Edge of Time. And Jesse Thompson sent me this Jason Young cover of an old issue of Ravage 2099 that got me thinking about all this in the first place.

Despite a limited amount of time in the proverbial sun, 2099 made its mark and lingers as an influential and trendsetting imprint more than we likely even realize. There were also some darn good comics in the bunch that are probably not too hard to get your hands on.

Underrated/Overlooked: 1602: Fantastick Four

Neil Gaiman’s 1602 and the sequels it spawned are stories that involve incredible occurrences and unearthly shows of power taking place in a time ill-equipped to explain them as anything other than witchcraft, but when you got down to it, they were really about seeing which enduring Marvel figures could swim rather than sink on the strength of character alone.

1602 focuses on the Marvel pantheon of the Silver Age, a group whose collective origins generally came from atomic experimentation gone awry and other radioactive catastrophes we’d probably dismiss as hokey were they used as start points today, but at the time both fit into the tropes of popular science fiction and reacted to the general populace’s fears when it came to nuclear Armageddon and the like. In 1963, getting bit by an irradiated spider or caught in a gamma blast played on real world anxiety while also fitting into a fictional tapestry that somehow projected reason into the most unlikely of places.

Take those same origins and try to apply them in 2003 to a 17th century setting and you start to strain. However—and this is my take, as there is no deeper evidence so far as I know—Gaiman wasn’t trying to validate the timelessness of Marvel origins, but rather that that personas created alongside the super powers could stand any test even when relocated across the decades one way and centuries the other.

My prime example would be that Daredevil’s genesis does not travel well into the world of 1602—rather than being blinded by radioactive isotopes, he touches strange green goop in a cave to get his super senses—but the swashbuckling spirit of the character tempered by tragedy and laughing in the face of danger made the sightless Irish troubadour Matt Murdock maybe my favorite character in the series.

While Gaiman only just got to the Fantastic Four in his first story, Peter David would dig in three years later with Marvel 1602: Fantastick Four and show the First Family to be perhaps the most adaptable of all the Marvels.

The Fantastic Four are one of the best examples of character over powers in comic book history. By the time the FF was born in 1961, their abilities—super strength, flame, invisibility, stretching—had all been done and even their explorers of the fantastic deal had been done to an extent by the Challengers of the Unknown, but the personalities and rapport Stan and Jack bestowed upon Reed, Sue, Johnny and Ben was the heart of what made them great, helped revolutionize comics and propelled their adventures to dizzying heights of awesome.

In Fantastick Four, David zigs where Gaiman zagged as far as exaggerating the bold and heroic qualities of 1602 over the dour skullduggery of Nicholas Fury and his lot. Where 1602 was a period drama, FF is in many ways equal parts comedy and adventure, both of which PAD is expert in. Gaiman had the Four trapped in a dungeon for most of his series and foreshadowed their arrival on the scene to perfect effect; David has them out in the world and enjoying what it has to offer.

Each individual has their persona tweaked just enough to puff them up to fit the stage: Reed is even more oblivious to anything save discovery, Susan is reflectively more dogged in her pursuit of his attention, Johnny’s romantic nature bubbles over to recklessness and Ben’s propensity for drama takes him down a different and interesting path as a performer in the troupe of William Shakespeare—who figures prominently in this tale, by the way. In a time where bizarre and outrageous occurrences have sprung up like wildfire seemingly overnight, there’s no better way to explore the altered landscape than alongside the Fantastick Four.

And of course if ever a character was suited to take his rightful place in a 17th century pumped full of pomp and pageantry on the super level, it’s Doctor Doom. The not-so-good Doctor was handsome—that was even his nickname—throughout Gaiman’s 1602, taunting the captive quartet and cavorting with The Black Widow, but here he’s wearing the iron mask and speaking in all his third person glory. I’m always entertained by reading a good Doom-as-pompous-royal story regardless of the chronal backdrop, but in an age where kings and queens really did rule, David’s take shines the perfect storm of regality, arrogance, and absurd overconfidence.

I could talk about the characters all day—I haven’t even gotten to the clever weaving in of the Frightful Four (the Four Who Are Frightful) and their powers or why an even more detached than usual Namor (Numenor) fits the period nearly as well as Doom—but the story is a hoot as well.

Doom captures Ben’s buddy Shakespeare, so the Four take off in hot pursuit of the villain’s flying pirate ship in their own flying pirate ship. The Doctor has hired the Frightful Four to take him to the edge of the world and wants the Bard along to tell tale of his triumph. Johnny absconds with Doris Evans—yes, there’s a 1602 analogue of Dorrie Evans and she’s awesome—pulling her along on the journey against her will so she doesn’t marry Wyatt Wingfoot. I thought the ultimate destination was Attilan—and I daresay PAD makes a game of playing it that way—but it’s actually Atlantis—or what passes for 1602 Atlantis—where fights with sea monsters, palace intrigue and much more ensue.

Pascal Alixe’s art is as beautiful as it has ever been on this book. He’s a master of capturing facial expressions, portraying texture and setting scenes that need to be larger than life, such as the aforementioned flying pirate ship vs sea monster kerfuffle. I love his Thing and his Human Torch, but c’mon, those are the easy ones; that I love his Sandman and Medusa speaks more to how much work he puts in.

Again, I could go on, but I’d just spoil the whole book. I could mention the Shakespeare-Doris Evans dynamic; I could expound more on how the Four Who Are Frightful’s “powers” work and how Peter David really gets The Wizard; I could tease the Black Widow’s fate; I could mention that amidst the fun, the jokes and the wonder, there’s a genuinely heart-wrenching storyline for Johnny that winds up ending the story.

I could, but instead I’ll just say 1602: Fantastick Four is a wonderfully buoyant little tale with smart flourishes, dynamite art and the wit you’d expect from something written by Peter David.

I’ll also note that while I’ve observed 1602 to be an acquired taste—I’ve obviously acquired it—you should really not stop with just the original, as you’re missing out on truly underrated and overlooked work by Greg Pak, Jeff Parker and a host of brilliant artists.

Underrated/Overlooked: Fatal Attractions

The thing most people remember about the 1993 X-Men semi-crossover Fatal Attractions is, frankly, the holograms.

Fatal Attractions spread the long-awaited return of X-Men uber villain Magneto (he’d only been “dead” for a couple years, but there were so many X-Books with so much happening every week at the time that a couple years felt like decades) over six chapters. What made it somewhat unique on the heels of stuff like Inferno, X-Tinction Agenda and my beloved X-Cutioner’s Song and the reason I call it a “semi-crossover” was that unlike those events, where each chapter bled into the next and readers had to adjust to shifting creative teams trying their best to tell a seamless story, each installment of Fatal Attractions more or less stood alone as pieces of a larger puzzle that could still be savored individually and gave every writer and artist their own chance to shine without having to worry about any baton.

But back to the holograms for a moment.

Gimmick covers were of course all the rage in 1993. The gimmick du jour for Fatal Attractions was that the front of each cardstock cover had a hologram of one of the book’s stars as designed by the series artist in the upper right hand corner under the logo. I’ve heard from the walls that can talk at Marvel HQ that these babies were not exactly the easiest things to pull together—and to the best of my knowledge we haven’t seen them since—but they sure did look sweet, particularly as you could really see each guy’s design sense in the one he created (Joe Quesada did Havok for X-Factor, Greg Capullo did Cable for X-Force, John Romita Jr. did Magneto for Uncanny X-Men, Andy Kubert did Gambit for X-Men, Adam Kubert did Wolverine for…well…Wolverine and I’m not sure who did Nightcrawler for Excalibur, maybe Joe Madureira, but it looked nice—and I’m sorry if I just got any credits wrong).

However, this was one case where the 90’s sizzle on the outside has perhaps caused folks to forget that the work in between the covers brought the steak in spades. Like I said, each chapter really did work on its own, so let me touch quickly on what I dug about each.

The story kicks off in X-Factor #92 by Peter David and Joe Quesada, although more than any other part of Fatal Attractions, this one ties in more thematically than anything else and serves truly as the prologue. Magneto’s groupies, the Acolytes, led by the guy who “killed” him, Fabian Cortez—they don’t know that—attack a government Sentinel-building factory really as a way to draw Quicksilver, X-Factor member and son of Magneto, into the fray. The main event of the issue is Cortez attempting to sway Quicksilver to become his ally and take his place as Magneto’s heir, which does a nice job filling any new readers in on what Mags’ deal is and why he’s such a nasty piece of work. While this is going on though, you also get a pretty killer X-Factor vs Acolytes throwdown—with a literally killer Jamie Madrox moment—gorgeous formative Quesada art, the balance of wit and morality that PAD always brings to the table, and a pretty powerful ending where the team confronts their government liaison and supposed friend Val Cooper about the whole Sentinel thing. There’s also a cameo from Exodus, who becomes more important down the line.

X-Force #25 by Fabian Nicieza and Greg Capullo has its own big time non-Magneto comeback, as Cable, who had been “dead” for an even shorter amount of time, returns to the team he founded to discover maybe they don’t need him anymore. I’ve said before how much I absolutely loved this era of X-Force and the Cable-less issues in particular, but this remains a personal favorite because it highlights how much Cannonball and company had grown over such a short time and forces Cable to have to prove his worth to his old charges, a neat 180 from the first year or so of the series where he was the gruff and mysterious drill sergeant they were all eager to please; you also get the beginnings of Cable as far more of a fully realized character as opposed to a 90’s cliché, with him relaxing a bit and demonstrating that he cares about and appreciates this kids just as much as his pouches and guns. But if that wasn’t enough to entice you, Exodus makes his first extended appearance to beat the crap out of X-Force and attempt to invite Cannonball and Sunspot to join his “master,” a cloaked guy in a space station who they tip toe around naming until the very end where he dons the full Magneto regalia as awesomely depicted by Capullo. It’s definitely the “warm-up” issue for the main event X-Men one-two, but it’s again a great story on its own that once more effectively shows a side of Magneto—in this case the teacher who wants his students back—as well as bringing Cable back in style and elevating X-Force since each guy wants to guide them (and Cable’s awesome “I don’t want them to follow my path—I want to follow theirs!” speech coupled with Magneto’s brutal disassembling of his machine side makes for a fantastic close).

So then we come to Uncanny X-Men #304, the first round of the true prize fight by Scott Lobdell and John Romita Jr., and you’ve got a lot going on. First off, Colossus’ kid sister Illyana, at one time Magik of the New Mutants, had died of the Legacy Virus, and it is in many ways the death of innocence in the X-Men’s world. Lobdell does some really nuanced character work covering the reactions, from Colossus’ refusal to show his feelings (or his non-metal form), to Professor X’s guilt, to Kitty Pryde’s gamut of emotions (she’s us, remember); there’s also a great bit where Bishop tries to pull his whole cryptic warnings of a doomed future routine with Banshee and Banshee deadpans “And what if I just go toss myself in front a bus? What happens then?” Interwoven with the grieving and the X-Teams coming together, there are pages written by Lobdell with powerful art by Jae Lee revealing pieces of Magneto’s earliest days in a Nazi concentration camp, some of which had been covered, but never with such raw detail (I believe this is the first time he’s called Erik and it’s not a stretch to say the great opening to the first X-Men movie borrowed heavily from here, intentionally or not). The two worlds come crashing together as Magneto, flanked by his Acolytes—Exodus revealed Cortez’ treachery to them and crushed him earlier in the issue—has the audacity to make his showy official return in the midst of the funeral and earmark this failure on the X-Men’s part to protect the most innocent among them as proof positive that Xavier’s dream has failed. Over the course of several Romita Jr. pages packed with characters and details, the more-powerful-than-ever Magneto dominates his heroic adversaries while also engaging with the usual philosophical battle of wills with his old friend Xavier, maybe making better points for why he’s right than ever before. It all builds to the heartbreaking moment where X-Men stalwart Colossus can stand no more tragedy and does the unthinkable, choosing to side with Magneto and become an Acolyte, breaking Professor X’s heart in the process and perhaps shattering his dream as well. The final page, where Xavier is dropped from the sky by Magneto, caught gently by Archangel and then assures his X-Men he knows he can count on all of them is extremely poignant; it’s an impressive pairing of action and pathos in that unique way only super hero comics can do it.

There’s less talk and more action in X-Men #25, as Nicieza comes back for his second go around, this time with Andy Kubert on art. Magneto fries most of the world’s electrical grid with an electromagnetic pulse mostly to show he can, so Professor X decides enough is enough and he’s taking a small strike force of X-Men—Jean Grey, Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit and Quicksilver, on loan from X-Factor—to finish this once and for all; he also dons a sweet Shi’Ar exoskeleton that allows him to walk so he can be front and center, despite the protests of many of his students. When Xavier essentially tells Cyclops he needs him to stay behind to carry on in case they don’t come back, you believe it. The strike force storms Avalon and teleports the Acolytes off the base so it’s straight up X-Men vs Magneto with the good guys being more ruthless than ever at Xavier’s insistence. Quicksilver and Rogue both play up their personal connections to Mags while assaulting him simultaneously; Professor X and a reluctant Jean barrage him with a psychic slew of bad memories, including Cypher’s death while he was in charge of the New Mutants; Wolverine goes full berserker; I’m not quite sure why Gambit was there other than to justify being in the cover hologram, but maybe he picked some locks or something. Despite it all, Magneto just keeps coming and neither side looks to give an inch. Then, out of nowhere, Wolverine makes a vicious swipe at his opponent’s guts—and Magneto responds by tearing the adamantium clear off Wolvie’s bones and out of his pores!

This is of course nearly 20 years in the rearview at this point, but you have to understand, as a fan reading at the time, the splash page image of the most popular and untouchable X-Man screaming in agony and quite possibly meeting his end in visually grisly fashion was beyond shocking. An enraged Xavier responds to that knockout with a ruthless uppercut of his own, full-on mind blasting Magneto like he never has before and wiping the dude’s brain clean, leaving him catatonic (we wouldn’t see him operational again for another six years, so really Fatal Attractions was more a blip on the radar than a full return, but what a blip). The postscript has Wolverine and an exhausted Xavier both in critical condition as Colossus shows up to help his former teammates get out before the other Acolytes return and then silently cradle Magneto’s limp body in a powerful closing panel.

To demonstrate just how standalone these books were, I have never actually read Wolverine #75! I know it’s by Larry Hama and Adam Kubert and that it deals with Wolverine ultimately recovering then electing to leave the X-Men, but I’ve never cracked the cover; it’s one of my white whales.

Everything wraps up in Excalibur #71, written by Lobdell with an assortment of artists helping him out, but this is really an “It’s all over but the crying” situation, as the big action was out of the way and now it was just a matter of dealing with the fallout; it’s a nice bookend to X-Factor in that it’s a true epilogue you don’t always get to see when you’re running from one big story to the next. Professor X, Cyclops and Jean Grey come to Muir Island, where the remaining members of Excalibur—Nightcrawler, Shadowcat and Phoenix—have stopped in to help Moira MacTaggert with some business. After some serious persuasion—and some nice “Professor Xavier is a jerk” thematic callback—the X-Men persuade Kitty to lure Colossus to the island, as apparently he has an outstanding head injury and they fear it may have influenced his recent decisions. Colossus shows up, feels the sting of his one-time love’s betrayal, but gets the help he needs while Cyclops and Nightcrawler beat up the Acolytes cannon fodder—including CKT favorite Katu!—and Rachel Summers has a somewhat random but sweet meeting with her alternate reality half-brother (neither knows yet, but the readers kinda did) Cable. In the end, Colossus forgives Kitty and offers thanks to the X-Men, but still chooses to remain an Acolyte, putting a bow on Fatal Attractions and what it was really trying to say as a whole: There are no absolutes in the X-Men Universe and neither Professor X nor his dream may be quite as infallible as we thought. Also, Excalibur decides to stay on Muir Island with Moira, but that’s another story.

It’s come to be a mantra from me here and elsewhere, but the 90’s get a bad rap. The X-Men in the 90’s get a particularly bad rap. A story like Fatal Attractions, remembered more for its posters, gimmicks and splashy returns was actually a deft ballet of awesome action and harrowing emotional betrayal, with healthy doses of humor and character growth mixed in plus pretty consistently great art throughout. It’s a true example not to judge a book by its cover.

Regardless of if the cover has a sweet hologram.

Why Won't This Work?: Captain Marvel

After reading Tom Spurgeon's brief but to the point item on why Giant-Man should be a more successful comic hero (I mean, except for the wife-beating...obviously) and talking with some buds over e-mail about characters primed for a possible second life the other day, I got to thinking about Captain Marvel.

For those of you out there who are having this post read to you rather than looking at the large image above, I mean the Rick Jones/Nega Bands/Mar-Vell version published by Marvel Comics. Although really the specifics of character name/secret identity don't matter here. What got me engaged with the Captain Marvel idea was the core concept and how it's one of many ideas in comics that I'm more than a little bewildered hasn't ever really become a breakout success.

And I should probably state here that this idea doesn't come from a nostalgic memory of dressing up as the character as a misanthropic 11-year-old (I'll save that particular piece of pop psychologizing for a Moon Knight post, thank you very much). In fact, I think the only "classic" issue of Captain Marvel I've ever read is this one, which I bought at a con for a dollar after I realized it was written by my pal and former writing teacher Scott Edelman. I didn't even read the historically epic Death of Captain Marvel graphic novel until I had to as part of a Wizard assignment.

No, my interest in Captain Marvel stems entirely from time spent thinking too much about superhero concepts while riding the El around Chicago without a decent iPod. But even with all that proven research at my beck and call, I still think I've got a strong case for why Marvel's own Captain should be a bigger hit than he's been and maybe even a few reasons why he's whiffed in the past. And the best way to get this ball rolling is by showing why the good Captain is better (on paper at least) than his Distinguished Competitor.


Think about it: the Marvel Captain Marvel is the same as the DC Captain Marvel in basic concept, and that concept is one hell of an example of what STC would call "the inner 8-year-old" hook: you're an average kid who's all of the sudden turned into a magical bad ass with awesome powers that let you fight anyone who sucks. Wish Fulfillment 101, right? Except the Marvel version is cooler in all the ways that people say Marvel is cooler than DC. To wit:

* Rather than being a dopey little kid reporter who says "Holy Moley" you're a teenage army brat who rides around on a motorcycle. Seriously, if you don't think Rick Jones fits the "teenage rebel" poster boy archetype that advertisers use on preteen boys every day perfectly, consider this: he was once voice in a cartoon by Luke Fucking Perry. 'Nuff Said.

* The hero you turn into is a cosmic Spartan warrior with a laser gun instead of lumbering man child with no eyes and cape that looks like a towel with a rope sewn on it. And if you prefer the later, non-Kree warrior take on the Marvel Captain's look, you've still got a pretty killer costume design that highlights the whole "Brad Pitt from 'Troy' but from space" thing. Cosmic powers are rad!

* Digging deeper, Mar-Vell is a hard core warrior of a lost space dynasty or something...right? I guess I don't know much about the Kree world, but I'm assuming that Mar-Vell has to be some kind of disgraced soldier who can't get back to the love of a good woman or something. In any event, I've always got the impression that he was kind of an asshole when compared to free-wheelin', "don't tell me what to do, dad" Rick Jones. And people loves assholes.

* No stupid wizard tells you what to do.


So, we've got a core empowerment fantasy wrapped in some cool imagery and a healthy dose of teen/adult drama, and to top it all off, the character's name contains the name of the company. This has got to work somehow, right? Yet for some reason, the character hasn't been able to really carry his own ongoing without fear of cancelation since sometime around 1974.

There's a group of dudes out there on the internet who are organized and believe with all their hearts that the reason no character has made a go of it as Captain Marvel in the Marvel U since back then is because there is only "one true Captain Marvel" and that dude is named Mar-Vell. At least one of their number is a frequent question asker on CBR's Cup O' Joe message board thread, and I honestly think it's great that they support something they're into with a lot of passion and fervor. But they're also mostly wrong.

Unlike Peter Parker or Reed Richards or Ben Grimm, there is no real definitive character behind Mar-Vell. Not to say that some good stories haven't been told with the character (I know Edelman spoke fondly of Steve Englehart's work on the series), but it's not like there's some compelling piece of personal backstory that means ONLY Mar-Vell can be linked to a snot-nosed earth teen via whatever magic the Nega Bands contain. And hell, even Rick Jones isn't THAT vital to the equation. Guy is such a cipher that he's been the sidekick for like 14 different heroes (give or take).

I DO think that since the original Death of Captain Marvel story, no one has been able to take that core concept and make it work for characters in a way that's compelling enough on its own merits. Part that is the way the Marvel Universe works and what it needs, but I think even more of it is a result of comics scene and how it rarely supports a solid concept done well based on its own merits.

The last time there was any kind of fleeting success with Captain Marvel was Peter David's early '00s run that saw Mar-Vell's kid get linked to a 20-something Rick Jones for a few years. While I'm waiting for someone to show up in the comments and tell me that this series invalidates my whole "not able to carry an ongoing since '74" argument, my memory of that book involves it always being on the bring of cancelation (U Decide!!!!) and of it being more of a humor book who's in-jokiness wasn't quite at Dan Slott She-Hulk levels but was a bit past Mark Waid Impulse ones. In any event, that book always felt like it was built way more for the comics market than it should have been to succeed, so I'm still left waiting for that mythical "they nailed it" take on Captain Marvel.

So what concept do you think should work more often?

Underrated/Overlooked: Sins of Youth

Young Justice isn’t just one of my favorite comics of all-time, it’s also in my mind a tremendous accomplishment.

That may have made a few of you scratch your heads; no, Young Justice wasn’t a game-changer like Watchmen or record-breaker like Civil War, but hear me out on the impressive merits it did possess.

I’ve extolled the virtues of Peter David on this blog before, and this is another one of his triumphs. As usual, he did a long haul job, penning 55 uninterrupted (there may have been one fill-in) issues plus numerous Annuals, specials, etc. over the course of five years. Young Justice is as funny and as poignant in spots as his work on Incredible Hulk or Supergirl, but it’s also far more metatextual and self-aware than even PAD’s usual stuff. There’s a scene in one of the later issues that’s one of my favorites that took place just a few months after Superboy and Impulse’s solo books getting cancelled and has The Ray relating to them about “their favorite comics” ending and all of them giving Robin the evil eye when it enters the room—fun but clever bits like that just peppered the book.

But maybe more impressive than the impressive effort put in by PAD was the breakout performance of my good pal Todd Nauck, who absolutely owned this series. It’s not unheard of for a writer, particularly one with the rep of Peter David, to spend half a decade perfecting his craft on a title, but in this day and age, generally guys not named Mark Bagley don’t stick around as long; not only did Todd match PAD for longevity on Young Justice, he utilized his growing familiarity with the characters as a way to constantly up his game and make improvements of what he already knew as well as bringing something new to the table nearly every month (Snapper Carr’s collection of super hero-themed t-shirts—ranging from Plastic Man to Metron—immediately comes to mind). Todd is that rarest breed of modern artist who can draw as fast as he does well (again, shades of Mark Bagley); he drew nearly every issue of Young Justice plus one-shots plus sometimes other series, but it never looked rushed or half-finished. If you look at Young Justice as a showcase for Todd Nauck—and it’s many other things but it’s certainly that in large part—you’ll see a guy who indeed draws fun, colorful cartoons, which is what he’s best-known for, but also an incredible range from an artist who spent five years with these characters and truly shepherded them into young adulthood.

So yeah, not even getting into all the other stuff Young Justice did well—reclaim obscure characters, new takes on tired settings, defying expectations with issues addressing real world hot button stuff, and of course all the great humor along the way—it was just a great series. I hail it as an accomplishment because without many stunts or aggressive promotion, it really was a book that achieved a lot on the backs of two guys who just worked really really hard.

And about a year and a half into their run, DC rewarded the creators of Young Justice by making the book the center of a company-encompassing fifth week event.

The set-up for Sins of Youth took place both in the pages of Young Justice and in Superboy’s ongoing series as the Agenda—a sort of renegade version of Cadmus, also focusing on cloning—led by Lex Luthor’s ex-wife Contessa expands their grudge against Kon-El to his team as well. Attempting to turn public sentiment against the young heroes of the DC Universe, the Agenda manipulates aged Golden Age teen sidekicks (including Dan the Dyna-Mite, which has always weirded me out since he had Hitler’s brain put in his head in The Golden Age, but was played mostly for laughs here) into forming Old Justice and publicly campaigning against their youthful counterparts. In order to address their detractors, Young Justice—under Wonder Girl’s temporary leadership because Batman won’t let Robin appear in public—sets up a summit in Washington DC with member of the JLA, JSA, Titans, et al coming out en masse to either support the kids or keep them out of trouble.

At the rally, chaos ensues like wow as the real Superboy shows up and reveals his evil clone Match has been posing as him, the Agenda’s clone army the Point Men attack, and for the coup de grace Klarion the Witch Boy—also hired by the Agenda and in a more lighthearted pre-Grant Morrison incarnation—mixes his magic with an alien space ray whipped out by Old Justice’s Doiby Dickles to make all the older heroes young and vice versa (except for Superboy, who initially can’t age because he’s a clone though this gets rectified in the second chapter after he kvetches about it, and the original Teen Titans who learn they were previously exposed to the same magic/science mix in a short Secret Files & Origin story written by my boy Jay Faerber).

From there, it’s a series of adventures all over the DCU as the various aged and de-aged heroes run around trying to figure out ways to reverse the situation, to defeat the Agenda, or to just have fun with their new status quo. The action unfolds in a series of one-shots—all with killer Mike Wieringo covers—by various creators wedged between the bookends by PAD and Nauck.

Yes, the ol’ age swap routine is absolutely a gimmick, but as the great Sean T. Collins has said, the best, most successful events no matter how nuanced or deep always center around something your inner 8-year-old can latch onto and enjoy (Civil War is heroes vs heroes, Blackest Night is a zombie movie, etc.)—this is certainly the case with Sins of Youth.

Even if the bookends are more an excuse to set up/resolve the plot along than anything else, PAD and especially Nauck take full advantage of the spotlight being given them and really show off what they and their characters can do. Wonder Girl is at her most heroic, Impulse is at his goofiest, Secret is at her quirkiest, and if you were wondering how Robin would fit in a team book, you get an idea of what a neat dynamic it is. Todd really goes to town drawing the entire roster of DC heroes, cramming as many as he can into a page George Perez-style and making the fight sequences sing with crackling energy and about a billion punches and energy blasts being thrown.

The one-shots are, as you’d expect, of varying degrees of quality, but most of the writers really sink their teeth into the concept, providing insight into what drives the older heroes as well as establishing the credibility of their sidekicks to a greater degree, while also following the general Young Justice mandate of “Have a good time.”

Chuck Dixon and Cary Nord handle the Batboy and Robin one-shot, which—appropriately given the characters—is probably the most serious an introspective of the series, though of course not without lighter moments. Taking a break from the larger crossover to check in on Gotham City, Tim Drake as Batman and Bruce Wayne as Robin rescue Zatanna from a group of villainous Russians. There’s some genuine insight as to how each guy views the other’s role over the course of the adventure as both struggle—Tim can’t do the “Batman” voice to fool Commissioner Gordon or get used to calling him “Jim,” Bruce regrets never having a real childhood—and Tim admits for the first time he doesn’t ever really want to be Batman. It also sets up a funny scene in Sins of Youth #2 where Tim tries to have a beer with his father and ends up spitting it all over him.

JLA, Jr. is more of the romp you’d expect, with Dan Curtis Johnson providing the script and Carlo Barberi rocking it on art as Captain Marvel takes the little Leaguers to see his wizard. Seriously, Barberi doesn’t draw Kyle Rayner in the same costume in any two panels, having him use his ring to whip up new ones every single time he is shown—it’s awesome. I also enjoy Aquaboy using the JLA roster files as Internet porn.

As a Flash fan, I am of course a sucker for Kid Flash/Impulse by Dwayne McDuffie and Angel Unzueta, wherein the speedsters embark on a PR tour to try and salvage the good guys’ image. I love Unzueta’s design for the grown-up Impulse costume and McDuffie’s characterization of young Wally West as perpetually impatient and annoyed. The best scene is definitely Wally briefly getting back to his honeymoon—which was interrupted by all this—and getting totally shot down by Linda when he tries to score.

Starwoman and the JSA is written by some dude named Geoff Johns with art by Drew Johnson. It’s another fun one as the Golden Agers head to outer space with the adult Stargirl as their babysitter; Geoff’s love for the characters shines through and he gets to do some nice work showcasing his creation, Stargirl/Starwoman, and her potential.

The compliment to Batboy and Robin, Superman, Jr./Superboy, Sr. by Karl Kesel and Rob Haynes, progresses Kal-El and Kon-El’s relationship in some pretty significant ways. Most importantly, Superman finally confesses his secret identity as Clark Kent to Superboy—only for Superboy to let him know he had already figured it out some time ago. It’s a nice moment in a book full of them plus a big ol’ fight scene made more awesome by Haynes’ unique style.

It all culminates in the second bookend, in which Klarion—and Peter David—up the ante by introducing a dozen or so de-aged villains into the mix, forcing the heroes—and Todd Nauck—to rise to the occasion double time. I won’t spoil who wins between the good guys and bad guys, but Todd absolutely comes out a champ.

Sins of Youth is a timeless, enjoyable story I probably pull off my shelf more than any other trade I own because it always cheers me up and makes me chuckle—and reminds me how much I miss Young Justice.

Five Comics Worth Reading - Feb. 2010

In the nascent days of this blog, I used to do a weekly feature called Five Comics Worth Reading, where I picked out some books I enjoyed and gave little capsule reviews. It wasn’t long for this world because I’m really not great at reviews and didn’t like having that mandate hanging over my head every week, taking away a bit from the pure joy of just reading my comics (kudos to those who can do it; you’re better than me).

However, every now and again I read a comic and am just like “Wow, this book is sick,” but don’t always have more than a few sentences to say about it, let alone a whole post. To that end, with no ambitions whatsoever of any sort of regular schedule, I am gonna bring back 5CWR periodically to babbly about books I’m really digging.

Books like these.

DAYTRIPPER
I read the first issue of this series just because Ryan said so and was pretty well blown away not even knowing what the high concept was, just digging the writing and art. The twin brother team of Gabriel Ba and Fabio Moon deliver a pretty standard “day-in-the-life” story about an average thirty-something going about his day, but I mean “standard” only in the sense that the events of the issue were (until the end) ostensibly mundane; however, despite the average nature of what’s going on, Ba and Moon have a way with their words of investing you in this man’s life and making the end of the issue all the more poignant.

I apologize for the vagueness here as I know it must be more than a bit frustrating, but I had no idea what this book was about going in, and that totally helped me enjoy it all the more, so if there is anybody out there who’s in the position I was, I want you to take a leap of faith and have a similar experience. The ending is key to what the whole series is about, and to give it away would be to spoil issues two and three as well, both of which also have that same quality of being beautiful in their take on the ordinary, but also begin bringing in a more sweeping sense of romance and grandeur.

The art—also a collaboration between the brothers—is gorgeous, with every person and every scene bursting with detail and unconventional beauty, as anybody who has followed their work on Umbrella Academy or Casanova would expect.

I wanna say more, but seriously, just trust me on this one and go find the first three issues.

IRREDEEMABLE
Yes, the whole “What if Superman went bad?” motif has been done to death a zillion times since the dawn of time, but for whatever reason, I’m totally into Irredeemable in a way I wasn’t with all those others.

It may be because Mark Waid is such a fan of Superman and the whole heroic ideal that he really takes care when toying with it; there’s no sadistic glee you find in most of those pastiches (ok, maybe a little), but rather a great deal of care taken and a sense of “yeah, that’s how it would happen,” that comes from knowing Waid has absolutely thought this through. The motivations and fallout are meticulously thought out and add up (to the degree such things can in a book about super-powered demigods in spandex).

Peter Krause’s art has a sorta Dan Jurgens vibe going for it that fits the story well. He infuses the really horrific stuff Waid is putting out there with a sense of innocence gone horribly awry that twists your stomach in the right ways.

Beyond the initial shock factor of seeing the world’s greatest hero annihilating continents with his heat vision, there are also mysteries and tangential threads being laid out like mines by Waid and I enjoy seeing them go off with the precision he intended while I struggle to figure out who I’m supposed to be rooting for; good stuff here.

THE PUNISHER
I’m sure there were plenty of folks out there who didn’t think turning The Punisher into a Frankenstein monster and having him hang out with Morbius and Werewolf By Night was a good idea (probably right here on this very Internet).

They were right; it was not a good idea.

It was a great idea!

Punisher is such a hugely entertaining comic right now it’s insane, and this is coming from somebody who has never been able to get into the character. Rick Remender has done a complete 360 in that he took a concept so wonderfully entertaining in its utter ridiculousness and then brought it full circle into a story that is completely compelling and perfectly fitting for the character.

I love that Remender is doing all this crazy shit but at the end of the day, in the context it is put in, IT MAKES TOTAL SENSE! Yes, if The Punisher went up against an entire team of ruthless super villains with the kind of power and carte blanche the Dark Avengers have, the son of Wolverine would totally end him. And yes, because he lives in a world where radiation doesn’t kill you but gives you fantastic or horrible powers and giant guys in purple suits try to eat or planet, it is not inconceivable in the least that a group of monsters would patch him up and turn him into a Frankenstein because they need a strategic mind to save their asses.

The latest issue—in which Dan Brereton illustrated the hell out of a flashback sequence telling the origin of Hellsgaard—was another quantum leap of awesome as we realize the bad guy Punisher is going after is basically him but replacing the figurative monsters who killed Frank Castle’s family with literal monsters who killed his own. The fact that this doesn’t even faze Frank as he prepares to go to war is a juicy little morsel that I’m interested to see get picked up down the road either as an Achilles heel or further evidence that The Punisher is so far gone a parallel like that means jack to him.

It’s also worth noting that Tony Moore draws not only the best vampires and werewolves in comics, but also does crazy fight scenes like nobody’s business. I love the liberties he’s not afraid to take with established characters and really hope he gets to draw more of them.

RED ROBIN
I forget sometimes how much I like the character of Tim Drake because a lot of the time he just gets written as “Robin” with folks forgetting that behind the mask he is so far removed from Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and particularly Bruce Wayne. He’ll never be the fighter that Bruce or Dick were, but he makes up for that with his brains and the fact that he’s probably the best natural detective out of the bunch. He’s also the happy medium between Dick’s carefree swashbuckler and Bruce’s grim and hopeless creature of the night.

Chris Yost totally understands this and is making me remember more and more in every issue of Red Robin why this character rocks.

As Red Robin, Tim is refreshingly human, making mistakes but working through them and being driven by faith in his own inherent belief more than any sacred vow or thirst for vengeance. He wears his emotions on his sleeve and it bites him in the ass more than a couple times, but he has an incredible skill set and ability to think on his feet that Yost is extremely apt at showcasing.

I’m also quite a fan thus far of Yost’s new potential love interest for Tim, Tam Fox, as she’s got a good bit of her own capability but also enough damsel in distress in her to keep things interesting; her being Lucius Fox’s daughter is a neat and clever spin as well.

But I honestly realized how much I am getting out of this comic in the latest issue where Tim has both an awesome fight with Killer Moth and then a great emotional hugging scene with Superboy where he breaks down in tears of joy over his best friend being alive that felt so sincere; Yost is so good not just at writing convincing young adults, but also at positioning action and emotion in perfect harmony with one another.

X-FACTOR
I know there’s a school of thought that Peter David’s writing on ongoing series tends to be too dense for new readers to navigate in easily, and maybe it’s true, but at the same time if you invest the time in his stories, you’re pretty much always guaranteed one helluva return.

I really respect how long PAD sticks around on books, be it a decade on Incredible Hulk, five uninterrupted years on Young Justice, or so forth. I love that he lays out long-term plans, commits to them, changes on the fly if necessary, but generally tries to stay the course on the big characters arcs he’s mapped out and epic stories he’s lad the tracks for. I enjoy the in jokes rewarding folks who have read the book for awhile and the pay-offs that are a long time coming but worth it.

Such is the case with X-Factor, where David has been hard at work for five years, building an impressive cast, imbuing them with great personalities, weaving a tangled web of interpersonal dynamics, and just having a good time.

He just wrapped a year-long time travel story he’d been building for some time before that, and now we’ve got the incredible eclectic cast of Jamie Madrox, Strong Guy, Siryn, Rictor, Monet, Darwin, Longshot, Shatterstar and Layla Miller going in a bunch of different directions that include diffusing an international incident, trying to locate the missing Invisible Woman, and moping in Ireland.

Honestly, the incredible mix of 80’s, 90’s and today B and C-listers I just rifled off as a team roster should have piqued your curiosity enough, but if you come for that, stay for the wit, the well-spun mysteries, the crazy twists, the heartfelt dysfunctional family, etc.

The Definitives: Superboy

Back when I was a kid (well, depending on how far your definition of “kid” extends) and still didn’t know much about the DC Universe, I did know one thing: I really dug Superboy. And no, I don’t mean Clark Kent when he was a boy, I mean the dude who would go on to become Kon-El and later Conner Kent, the guy who rocked a zillion belts in the strangest places before moving to a t-shirt and jeans—that Superboy. Before I knew that Wally West was the guy wearing the Flash outfit or that Dick Grayson wasn’t Robin anymore, Superboy was far and away my favorite DC character.

With the all-too-short run by Geoff Johns and Francis Manapul on Adventure Comics coming to an end recently, it made me reflect back on how much I dig Superboy, who may not be my favorite character in the DCU anymore, but he still sits comfortably in the top three.

I may have said as much in earlier posts (we’ve written quite a few of them at this point, folks), but Superboy just came along at the perfect time for me, as I was hitting my semi-rebellious (or more wannabe rebellious) early teen years and a wiseass kid with a fade haircut, leather jacket and earring who hit on chicks was the avatar of all I found cool in the early 90’s. It wasn’t a case of image being everything though, as Superboy’s creators Karl Kesel and Tom Grummett really infused him with a feel-good, “this is fun” energy that the grim and gritty years were sorely lacking and that I didn’t even realize I was missing.

As I grew up and came back to comics, it was nice to see that Superboy had matured a bit too under the pen of writers like Peter David and Geoff, but not too much. Here are some of the Superboy stories from over the years that have always kept the character on my list of faves.

Reign of the Supermen
I’ve heard in read in various interviews and accounts (including a Wizard Retrospective I helped edit) that Superboy’s creators weren’t completely shocked by his almost-immediate popularity, but at least somewhat surprised he caught on the way he did. I know hindsight is 20/20 and all that, but even at the time of “Reign of the Supermen,” I had a good feeling Superboy would stick around if only because in one of the most epic of epic storylines, he still stood out brightly among a cast of dozens. Fashion sense aside, Superboy was the breath of fresh air fans such as myself were looking for in a story where you had a Cyborg Superman blowing up Coast City, the shades-wearing Eradicator frying criminals while wearing an “S” on his chest and the real Man of Steel sporting a Fabio mullet; amidst the doom and gloom (that, don’t get me wrong, was still a killer story), Superboy hearkened back to comics being fun. I also always dug that while the other three would-be Supermen were being positioned as possible replacements, it was always up front that Superboy (or then “don’t call me Superboy!”) was a clone and not trying to convince anybody of anything. Kesel and the other Superman writers of the day did a nice job using the “The Kid” as comic relief, but also as a hero from the word go, anxious to prove himself if somewhat lacking in attention span.

Superboy #1-5
In the first half-dozen issues of Superboy’s first solo series, Karl Kesel and Tom Grummett did an exemplary bit of world-building that many creators today could learn a nice lesson from. Right off, they dropped The Kid in a totally exotic (in more ways than one) locale, Hawaii, to set him apart from anybody else in the DC Universe and then set about populating this new frontier. Superboy carried over his ambitious girlfriend Tana Moon as well as sleazy agent with a heart of gold Rex Leech and his bombshell daughter Roxy from his Adventures of Superman run, but then also added sage advisor (and Jack Kirby creation) Dubbilex and sober cop Sam Makoa (Hawaii’s Commissioner Gordon) to round out a solid supporting cast. Within five issues, Kesel and Grummett provided their protagonist with the start of a unique rogues gallery in the hapless Sidearm, bad girl Knockout, crazed Scavenger, and noble yet misguided Silversword. Of all these new creations, Knockout would prove the most enduring and intriguing, taking The Kid’s propensity for ogling beautiful women and turning it against him in the worst of ways (it’s also kinda cool that she’d go on to venture outside Superboy’s world thanks mostly to Gail Simone, though I wish the two of them had been able to have one last tangle before her untimely demise). In under six months, Hawaii was nearly as fleshed out a DCU locale as at least Midway or Star City and ready to contend with the Gothams of the world (though how so many super villains ended up in the islands I’ll never understand). Oh, and I can’t conclude this section without throwing particular props to the awesome Superboy #4, featuring Rex Leech’s skewed “Superboy: The Animated Series,” as illustrated brilliantly by the late Mike Parobeck).

“Watery Grave” (Superboy #13-15)
This three-parter from 1995 was actually my very first exposure to the Suicide Squad back before I was aware of much beyond that there had at one time been a team and book with that name. It’s pretty neat stuff as it places the happy go-lucky Kid in way over his head amongst a group of unrepentant thugs and murderers who stand in stark contrast to his bluster and general optimism. The story itself has Superboy and the Squad going after perennial string-pullers the Silicon Dragons in the culmination to much of what Kesel had been laying down over the book’s first year; Kesel also does a great job playing out the intrigue of a traitor within the group, a common theme, but one he nicely misdirects more than once. The action is top-notch as expertly done by Grummett and by the end of the story Superboy has definitely grown up a little following his first real solo epic—but not too much.

Sins of Youth
Superboy Definitives or not, I heartily recommend Sins of Youth just because it’s a fantastic and wonderfully entertaining story with more actually funny humor than just about any comics event ever plus Todd Nauck outdoing himself again and again, but it is cool that at its heart, this is a DCU-wide story that centers around Young Justice and, more specifically, Superboy. The gimmick of adult super heroes becoming teens and the young good guys getting older is a neat hook, but it’s also central to the through line of Superboy’s big character arc: that he can never grow up even if he wants to. Amidst the laughs and visual hilarity of this adventure, Karl Kesel and Peter David in particular give Kon some incredible pathos as well as one major turning point event that made the 11-year-old in me shed a tear for certain.

Superboy #83
It seems like I do nary a list for this blog without mentioning how perpetually skilled and underrated Joe Kelly is as a writer, but hey, you can’t fight truth. Back at the turn of the century, Kelly had another one of his too-short oddball runs on a book when he took on Superboy with artist Pascual Ferry and had a good ol’ time mixing smart comedy with straight up weirdness involving gorillas, robots and the like. His first issue was a particularly witty bit of meta-textual storytelling, as Superboy realized that he had somehow become considered “uncool” within the confines of the DC Universe and sets about giving himself a makeover that dragged him visually beyond 1993 and into 2001. As Kon muses on how he lost his hipness and chats with guest stars over how to regain it, Kelly does nice work picking apart the character and explaining why he is in fact timeless regardless of whether or not he needs a new costume.

Teen Titans Annual #1
If Karl Kesel, Peter David and Joe Kelly were Superboy’s principal stewards as he got to enjoy his early teen years, Geoff Johns was the guy who stepped in and started prepping him for real world responsibilities and an adulthood that may never come (this is comics), but never lost sight of the youthful exuberance that made the character stick to begin with. Nowhere does Johns’ “growing up” Superboy ring more true than in his Conner’s relationship with Wonder Girl, one of my favorite comic book romances of the past decade. While The Kid has always had a lady on his arm, what he had/has with Cassie feels more “real,” both in the way it’s been portrayed and in the sense you get that this is the first romance of his that could really go somewhere; in that latter regard, Geoff has always done a nice job making the relationship reflect the more heartfelt ones we have in our late teens or early 20’s as opposed to the flirtations of youth. This issue is maybe the best and most heartstring-tugging Conner/Cassie story in a pretty impressive pantheon that includes not only everything Geoff did with them on Teen Titans, but also the adorable “will they or won’t they?” routine Peter David had going for years in Young Justice. In the midst of Infinite Crisis and coming off Conner getting his ass kicked by Superboy Prime, he and Cassie share their feelings and memories, recalling all they’ve been through together and ultimately consummating their relationship before the world ends; it’s touching, poignant, and yet not too dire, as this is still a Teen Titans story starring Superboy after all.