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…

Underrated/Overlooked: WrestleMania

WrestleMania is obviously the biggest day of WWE’s (and formerly the WWF’s) calendar year. It started out simply as a showcase for big matches and glitzy celebs, morphed into the “end of the season” for major feuds that would be shuffled and reset the next night, and has now settled into being a sort of hybrid of both. It’s the show the company builds to, that every performer brings their A-game to and that attracts an impressive amount of celebrity participation and media hype.

For the most part, each WrestleMania has had its own distinct identity. It’s hard to pick out every SummerSlam and certainly next to impossible to remember what happened one year to the next at Unforgiven or Extreme Rules, but if you name the Roman numeral (or blasphemous plain old number in at least two cases, not to mention the madness of X-7 and so on—it should ALWAYS be Roman numerals), a true wrestling fan worth their salt can spit back to you which WrestleMania it was.

III was Hulk/Andre. IV was when they did the World title tournament. IX everybody wore togas. Hart/Michaels Iron Man at XII. They called XVI 2000 to drive me nuts. Brock Lesnar nearly killed himself at XIX. Flair retired at XXIV. HBK followed him at XXVI.

To be fair, XXII doesn’t really stand out, but you get the gist.

Thing is, try as they might to stack the show from start to finish with hits—not so much during the V-VIII era, but more or less before or after—and as much as the folks performing go above and beyond to make their moments count, each WrestleMania generally gets remembered for one or two matches tops (X-7 is the exception that proves the rule).

III is the aforementioned Hulk/Andre plus Savage/Steamboat. V is the Megapowers. VI is the Ultimate Challenge. X is the Ladder match. XII is the Iron Man. 13 (bleh) is Austin/Hart. X-8 is Hogan/Rock. XXV and XXVI are the HBK/Undertaker matches.

And so on.

But each year there is at least one (usually more) classics that slip under the radar simply because they’re the third, fourth or fifth best matches on a card where everybody wants to have a classic. Those are the showdowns I want to remember today. In doing so, I’m leaving plenty out myself, but each of these holds a special place in my own heart.

Roddy Piper vs. Adrian Adonis (WrestleMania III)
The third WrestleMania gets a lot of consideration for being among the best ever based on the enormity of the event itself, the epic feel of the main event and the fact that Randy Savage and Ricky Steamboat had flat out one of the best matches of all-time; however, despite its pedigree, not much else from this show gets remembered. A lot of it is perfunctory—fine not great—but there’s also some cool miscellany, like Alice Cooper accompanying Jake Roberts to the ring, King Kong Bundy squashing a midget, and this match. It was no technical classic, but as far as cosmically satisfying wrestling finishes, this is right up there with reformed bad guy Piper putting the irritating Adonis to sleep and then Brutus Beefcake shaving his head to officially become “The Barber.” Despite having been the most hated man in the business a year earlier, Piper is tremendous as a babyface here, having the time of his life before heading off to Hollywood for a couple years, and Adonis is equally perfect and totally unselfish as the heel getting humbled; two guys who knew how to light the crowd afire and played their roles to a T made for a great WrestleMania moment.

The Rockers vs. Haku & The Barbarian (WrestleMania VII)
WrestleMania VII was a bit of an off-year, as the Hogan-Sgt. Slaughter main event felt like a bit of a comedown from the Ultimate Challenge a year before, but Randy Savage and The Ultimate Warrior had one of my favorite matches ever, plus you had this little gem opening the show. After getting squashed by the Twin Towers and 1989 and then screwed by The Orient Express a year later, The Rockers finally got a chance to shine, showing off what they could do in an energetic little guys hitting and running against giants exhibition. It was a glimpse of the future, as Shawn Michaels displayed a mere hint of the skills that would later make him Mr. WrestleMania, while Marty Jannetty kept pace and Bobby Heenan’s team was nicely generous in making the David vs. Goliath battle believable.

Bret Hart vs. Owen Hart (WrestleMania X)
Shawn Michaels is far and away my favorite wrestler of all-time (sorry, Christopher Daniels, I’ll await your sad text tomorrow) and I have plenty of love for his Ladder match with Razor Ramon on this show, but at the end of the day, ask me to pick and I’ll take the Hart brothers wrestling clinic every time. It kind of bucks the title and intent of this post to include this here, I suppose, since most people would agree it’s a classic, but on a WrestleMania that had said Ladder match, it generally doesn’t get its due as the match of the night I felt it was. The fluidity of Bret and Owen trading holds and counters as only two guys who grew up and learned their craft in the same place under the same tutor if not side-by-side is a cooler deal for me than any gimmick ever could be. On its own, this would still be an amazing match, especially to a fan like me who digs the “purist” aspect, but it also had one of the best ever angles and storyline builds behind, the optimal pro wrestling brother vs. brother feud (and that’s saying something), to boost it into the stratosphere. No disrespect meant to the Ladder match or those two gents, because I could watch that one all day as well, but this is likely in my all-time top five.

Ahmed Johnson & The Legion of Doom vs. The Nation of Domination (WrestleMania 13)
From one end of the spectrum to the other, there was no science to this one whatsoever, but it was an outstanding brawl during a down period for the WWF. WrestleMania 13 (ick) gets labeled as a one match show for the superb Austin-Hart Submission match with the double turn, but I dug this one as well. Johnson was pretty limited by injuries, the LOD were far past their prime and nobody in the Nation was doing career-best work at this point, but they all went out there and just beat the crap out of each other in the very definition of a garbage match, albeit one that actually worked. Ahmed in his own LOD spikes was a nice touch, as was Hawk actually bringing a kitchen sink to the ring to use as a weapon. If they had ended the Johnson-NOD feud here, Ahmed may have still had a shot to get back over as it was a great blow off.

Kurt Angle vs. Kane (WrestleMania X-8)
This show got sold on Hogan-Rock, with Triple H against Chris Jericho and to a lesser extent Undertaker vs. Ric Flair as well as Steve Austin vs. Scott Hall being somewhat in the mix. Kurt Angle, despite being perhaps the best performer in the company at the time, got left out in the cold with no dance partner, so they threw him in there with Kane to more or less kill time. Diminished expectations aside, it ended up being a nice little hidden highlight, as these two had good chemistry—they had a TV match around the same time that may have been even better than this one—and Kane brought his work boots to keep up with Angle. The story of the match wasn’t so much whether or not Angle could win, but if he could make Kane tap to the ankle lock, and both guys played it perfectly, timing their ebb and flow for maximum suspense; Kane’s best WrestleMania match for sure.

Chris Jericho vs. Christian (WrestleMania XX)
Another fondly remembered match by most, but as it wasn’t for a title, didn’t have a streak on the line and didn’t feature a celebrity or Legend, it does still get lost in the shuffle of the last decade’s WrestleMania highlights. The buildup to this wasn’t just well-done, it demonstrated long-term restraint practically unheard of in 2004 WWE, as the issues between the two former best friends had begun over four months prior, with the great storyline that saw them betting on who could bag Trish Stratus or Lita, then Jericho and Trish developing real feelings for one another, pissing Christian off in the process. These two knew each other well by this stage in their careers, so the match itself was predictably great, but it was Trish’s involvement and phenomenal heel turn that put the icing on the cake.

Batista vs. Umaga (WrestleMania XXIV)
Similar to Kurt Angle in 2002, six years later Batista found himself as the odd man out, with his chief rivals Edge and The Undertaker preoccupied with one another and John Cena, Randy Orton, Triple H and Shawn Michaels all having their WrestleMania dance cards booked. “The Animal” got stuck in an under-promoted Raw vs. SmackDown match with the similarly un-tethered Umaga, and the two preceded to go out and have a sweet power-based match that was hard-hitting, intense, and just the right length. Batista generally seems to rise to the occasion at WrestleMania, as he and Undertaker put on a classic at XXIII in part out of resentment over not getting the main event slot, so the combination of a big time atmosphere and good old fashioned spite made a good motivator for him.

Rey Mysterio vs. Cody Rhodes (WrestleMania XXVII)
This is a pre-emptive strike of sorts, given that this match is only a year old, but WrestleMania XXVII is already looked back at as an underperforming show, which means the more in the rearview it gets, the more Undertaker-Triple H will take on an Austin-Hart at WrestleMania 13 (yick) quality and a decent undercard will get forgotten. Again, a long-ish term feud—Rey put Cody out with a facial injury three months prior that led to his transformation past the Dashing gimmick into his deranged character—and this felt like a big deal despite not being the most anticipated showdown of the night by any means. Rey was a very giving veteran, making Rhodes look good, and Cody seized his opportunity, going over a legend at the biggest show of the year and cementing his place at the top. Also, Rey dressed as Captain America.

Underrated/Overlooked: Psionex

In most iconic super hero-super villain archenemy pairings, the two individuals or teams involved are bound by their stark differences, cracked mirror similarities, or in some cases a little bit of both.

Superman is the alien who is an everyman while Lex Luthor is the human who sees himself as above his fellow man. Spider-Man is the hopeful optimism of youth in the face of adversity battling old men like Doctor Octopus or The Green Goblin who have given up on altruism and are driven by greed. Batman is the imposition of order while The Joker is the embodiment of chaos. Doctor Doom is the intelligence of Mr. Fantastic without morality and civic unselfishness keeping him in check.

The New Warriors never really had an archenemy. Some might say it was The Sphinx, and in that case you could argue the dynamic was the young agents of change versus the timeless champion of inevitability, but he was really Nova’s bad guy first and foremost. If you look at the bad guys in other big Warriors storylines like Tai, the Poison Memories or the Dire Wraiths, they were all basically one and done adversaries.

Breaking it down to numbers, the villains who plagued the New Warriors the most frequently and were their opposite number at least in the sense of being a team of young people were Psionex, introduced in issue #4 of the original series and recurring for the remainder of the volume as foes to our heroes, reluctant allies against a larger threat like Terrax, and even Night Thrasher’s attempt at a rehabilitation project.

If there was a weakness to Psionex in their core concept, it was that they didn’t really stand for much of anything, whereas the Warriors had a very strong sense of identity. Certain buzz phrases would recur through all of that classic first Warriors series—“making hard choices,” “searching for the truth,” “the power of love over the love of power”—creating not only a clear mission statement for the good guys, but the potential for an antithesis that was never really filled outside of in part with stuff I mentioned like The Sphinx and other little cases.

The initial hook to Psionex was a simple one: They were unbalanced young people given super powers by Genetech, the faceless corporation who would bug the New Warriors because why not. As it said on the blurb of their introductory issue, “They were bred for one purpose: To destroy the New Warriors!” but aside from having powers that gave various members of the team trouble, you never got the whole “bred for one purpose” thing. This wasn’t like the Injustice League or Dark Avengers or some incarnations of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants where each member of the villain team was picked specifically to target an opposing player on the good guys; it was just a bunch of randoms with cool powers.

However, it’s in those powers and their relative inventiveness that Psionex raises a notch or two up in my mind. Fabian Nicieza clearly put some time into coming up with these guys’ abilities, and in an era where “generic energy blast” was the flavor of every month—I’m looking at you Acolytes—it was refreshing and appreciated.

Asylum was a mental patient who never spoke but had a body composed entirely of Darkforce matter that induced hallucinations in anybody she came into contact with; similar to Cloak but with a twist of mental imbalance. Coronary at first glance seemed like the team powerhouse, but who was actually a “bio-telepath,” capable of messing with people’s internal functions so as to make them vomit, give them a heart attack or do other nastiness. Impulse had an enhanced metabolism which gave him fairly generic heightened speed, reflexes and healing, but his crazy thrill seeker personality coupled with his gang background made him interesting and led to classic moments like him trying to take on Terrax singlehanded and getting his back snapped (he got better). Mathemanic not only had a great name, but the most bizarre and intriguing abilities, as he practiced “mathematical telepathy,” messing with statistical regularities so he could do things like forcing his foes to perceive interstellar measures of distance and thus not see what’s in front of them or slowing the passage of time by altering perceptions. Last but not least you had Pretty Persuasions, an exotic dancer with an energy whip who could increase and then draw power from the “erotic urges” of others, making her one of the most straightforwardly sexual characters in comics at the time, but in an odd “what you see is what you get” refreshing kind of way.

Psionex had their initial clash with the Warriors, then a rematch that ended with Terrax’s rebirth and a temporary truce/half the villains fleeing. Later, after Asylum dissipated during a fight with Nova, Firestar and Speedball, another New Warriors villain, Darkling, found her mask and took up her mantel, getting Psionex back together and attempting to make them into heroes who would use the excessive force the Warriors were unwilling to; this period showed some potential for the group to really forge their own place in the Marvel Universe—or at least in the New Warriors mythos—but while it made for a few good stories, they were heavily focused on Asylum, with the rest becoming more or less window dressing. After Asylum accidentally killed a child by inducing an unknown heart condition while trying to scare him straight, we got a pretty emotionally hard hitting story—Nicieza’s final issue—where Mathemanic tries to turn back time by affecting perceptions across New York City, but ultimately is convinced that he can’t undo what is already done.

From there Psionex joined up briefly with Night Thrasher and Rage before gradually receding into a background role in the Marvel Universe for the past couple decades, generally only showing up for cameos when Nicieza is writing a book like New Thunderbolts or part of huge villain armies in titles being penned by New Warriors fans like when Christos Gage had the reins of Avengers: The Initiative.

In addition to their powers, the other thing Psionex really had going for it was that Mark Bagley did a bang-up job on their designs. They really were a motley crew of misfits, as befit their status as nut jobs, with the nerdy Mathemanic looking like he belonged nowhere near a group that also included S&M bombshell Pretty Persuasions. Asylum’s lack of physical form anchored by that golden mask was cool, as was Coronary’s evolving crystalline shape—although the weird skirt he rocked at first was bizarre—and even Impulse’s fairly traditional super villain get-up had neat touches like the evil Spider-Man bug eyes or weird wrist gauntlet blades. Richard Pace would ramp up the exaggerated elements of Psionex during his all-too-brief run on New Warriors and breathe even more life into Bagley’s work.

But again, while Psionex had plenty of potential in the abilities and visual departments, their lack of personalities, individually or as a group, and no real direction hurt their lasting legacy. It wasn’t enough just to be crazy, particularly in the 90’s, and after that initial Genetech-sponsored fracas, it wasn’t even quite clear why they were always tangling with the New Warriors.

Still, there’s something there in Psionex, even if it’s just that they bring something different to the table in terms of abilities that go beyond the tired cocktail of super strength, mind powers and, yes, energy blasts. I’m not saying they’re ever going to anchor a line-wide crossover or anything, but maybe next time an Avengers writer needs to kill half a standalone issue that’s really about the heroes’ relationships anyways, rather than use the Wrecking Crew yet again, they give Psionex a shot.

Underrated/Overlooked: Legion Worlds

After being quietly appreciated for the better part of a decade, Legion Lost, the 12-part series by Dan Abnett, Andy Lanning and a young Olivier Coipel that reinvented the Legion of Super-Heroes for a new century, has in recent years gained a deserved higher profile. Lost presaged a lot of DnA’s later work with bold science fiction in their later Annihilation, Nova and Guardians of the Galaxy stints, placing the relatively optimistic Legion I grew up with and dropping them into a foreign universe with exotic challenges that forced the teenagers to grow up and face unspeakable tragedy and sacrifice. It was a powerful story with aggressive art by Coipel that topped many fans’ “why hasn’t this been collected?” lists until just recently; today, not only can you grab the trade at stores, one of the new series launched by DC bears its name.

DnA would go on to launch a Legion ongoing building on the darker edge and emphasis on character drama they brought to Lost, but first as a bridge, they penned the six-part Legion Worlds, an anthology that explored the 31st century landscape the missing Legionnaires had left behind and what had become of their teammates. The sprawling art team included a mix of untapped talents like Yvel Guichet, Enrique Breccia, Paul Rivoche, Jamie Tolagson and Kilian Plunkett with established names such as Coipel, Darwyn Cooke, Rick Burchett, Duncan Rouleau, Rick Leonardi, Steve Dillon and Mike McKone, plus covers by then up and comer John Cassaday.

It’s a clever storytelling device on DnA’s part as the Legion—and thus the readers—has been away from their universe for over a year (real time) and there’s a lot of ground to cover to set up the new series. They had fun with the vastness of the Legion’s landscape, setting each standalone chapter on a different planet housing one or more members of the scattered team and familiar to fans. As with any series of the format, some stories were not as strong as others—I don’t remember the M’Onel-centric Earth story in the first issue much, though that was mostly a primer for the rest of the series, and recall not investing too much in the Magno/Cosmic Boy spotlight on Braal—but the stuff that stood out did so strongly.

The second issue has Ayla Ranzz, the Legionnaire known as Spark, returning to her home on Winath, with both her twin brother, Live Wire, and erstwhile love interest, Chameleon, among the Lost. It’s the kind of thoughtful, psychological, and slightly creepy story DnA excels at, with Ayla trying to pick up the pieces of her life and finding it hard to do so as something of an outcast in her own home where everybody is born with a twin and “solos” are shunned. Ayla’s older brother, Mekt, a solo himself and formerly the villain Lightning Lord, has also returned, supposedly reformed, somewhat mentally addled and hoping to bond with his sister over their common sense of loss. There’s a mystery plot about natural disasters and whether or not Mekt could be responsible, but the real meat is in the family drama, and the tension Ayla feels both over being adrift and at the possibility her brother may not be as innocent as he claims is palpable.

Issue #4 shifts the action to Xanthu, where Star Boy—one of my favorite post-Zero Hour Legionnaires—has returned home with lover Dreamer and teammate XS in tow to help his world fend off the threat of Robotica, a race of artificial intelligence that has gained sentience and rebelled against the beings they feel have oppressed them. It’s very much a war story, as the heroes face overwhelming odds and basically go on one suicide run after another, but it also shows another side of how much the Legion defined these characters and kept them as well as the universe optimistic and bright; in its absence, people like Star Boy and XS have struggled with their purpose, but keep fighting because it is in some sense all they know and all they have left. Robotica is a new take on a familiar trope—the robots go crazy because we don’t appreciate them enough—done with visual panache by Duncan Rouleau, a master at drawing robots and the like.

Next up the focus falls on Karate Kid, who has journeyed to the isolated and peaceful planet of Steeple, bringing along Ferro for a period of contemplation and prayer as they deal with the loss of the Legion. I’ve always loved Karate Kid in all his various incarnations, and this story highlights all the cool stuff about Val Armorr, as he is the one Legionnaire who seems to have moved on in a healthy way with his strong sense of self and devotion to continued enlightenment; of course he also still gets to kick stuff. A bruiser from Takron-Galtos makes his way to Steeple, and while Val is initially reluctant to raise a hand against him, having devoted his energy to quelling rage and violence, the overmatched Ferro gives it a shot and gets badly injured in the process. Karate Kid is now faced with the dual challenges of facing down the bad guy and also saving his friend’s life; the former he does in a great fight sequence illustrated by Steve Dillon, and the latter forces him to make a powerful choice that adds punch to an already rocking tale.

The finale heads to Rimbor, birth world of the Lost Ultra Boy, and the place his pregnant wife Apparition has chosen to hide from mercenaries hired by her mother. Consistent with its portrayals across Legion history, Rimbor is already a nasty place, filled with gang wars and violence, and a pretty crappy place for a pregnant lady to hang out, even if she can become immaterial at will, but Apparition has made an awesome ally in Timber Wolf, who makes his post-Zero Hour debut here and whom DnA as well as Kilian Plunkett do a great job with. After five issues mostly touching on how much was taken away by Legion Lost, it’s cool to end with the reintroduction of a classic character in a fun way, as DnA make T-Wolf every bit the badass he was in the old days, but add in some charm and a quirky paternal concern for Apparition’s unborn “cub.”

I didn’t actually buy Legion Lost, as I was just getting back into comics at the time and just missed it by a couple months, so when I did decide to track down the modern incarnation of another comic I’d loved as a kid, Legion Worlds was my first exposure. I’ve since gone back and read Lost, but even on its own, World did a fantastic job giving you a tour of a universe both somewhat recognizable and completely altered, moving several pieces in place to ensure you’d be invested in the ongoing series. With the creative talent involved and awesome array of characters that play parts big and small, this is a hidden Legion gem for sure.

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: World War Hulk: X-Men

Sometimes comics can be poetry; they can be works of art; they can be an allegory to a far greater statement used to illustrate the thoughts of their creators in a unique and beautiful medium.

But other times it’s just fun when people in colorful costumes punch each other and talk smack with lots of double page spreads.

However, to say just about any comic book story is just about the punching is a disservice to that story, as there’s generally—not always—something going on at a deeper level even when the surface is a popcorn movie. In my mind though, there’s certainly nothing wrong when the first level of fun is what sticks with you and you perhaps lose the sublevel context unless you’re re-reading; a well-executed fun comic is every bit as impressive as any other sort of achievement from where I sit.

Greg Pak and John Romita Jr.’s World War Hulk is the type of story I remember fondly as a fun comic with lots of punching. Pak had just told a year-long epic weaving science fiction with commentary on The Hulk’s inner identity and sense of self and managed to climax all that character work in a blockbuster that both showcased Romita’s proficiency for drawing the big fights as well as the emotional payoff for the build.

Within the larger event was the three-issue World War Hulk: X-Men limited series by Christos Gage and Andre Di Vito. Now just as the main event worked in pathos with the action, so too did this side story, with moral dilemmas playing a major role and the quiet moments of characterization standing out, but at the end of the day, I know my friend Christos Gage, and I believe he set out to tell the coolest “action figures come to life” romp he could with The Hulk fighting the X-Men—and he succeeded.

The gist of World War Hulk is that the Illuminati rocketed Hulk into space with the intention of sending him to a quiet planet where he would be happy and left alone, but instead he ended up on the war-town world of Sakaar; nonetheless, Hulk flourished on Sakaar, overthrowing a dictator, making friends and falling in love, but then a bomb he thinks the Illuminati placed on his ship detonated, killing most of the populace—including his new wife and their unborn child—so he heads back to Earth with what remains of his army and declares war on the dudes who sent him into space to begin with.

The gist of World War Hulk: X-Men is that Professor X wasn’t at the Illuminati meeting where they made the whole “send Hulk into space” call, but Hulk wants to find out how he would have voted had he been there, and he’ll beat the crap out of every X-Man to get his answer straight from the source and then decide his response.

The first issue has Hulk crashing the X-Mansion where Professor X and Beast are hanging out with the New X-Men while the adults are all off on a mission. One of many cool/smart moves Gage does with this series is structures the whole thing like a boxing/wrestling card with the undercard stuff gradually building excitement to the main event. In this case, the opening bout is the inexperienced and outclassed New X-Men going up against the strongest force in the Marvel Universe and getting their plucky butts kicked, but not before dishing out some decent shots like X-23 kicking Hulk in the eye with one of her toe blades. It also gives Xavier a chance to agonize over yet another mistake coming back to haunt him—this came right on the heels of the double reveal that he created Danger and concealed the existence of Vulcan and the rest of the second class of X-Men—and his most innocent students suffering as a result.

By the end of issue one, the first cavalry arrives in the form of the Astonishing X-Men cast: Cyclops, Wolverine, Colossus, Emma Frost and Kitty Pryde. At this point, Xavier is ready to surrender, lest more of his protégés suffer, but Cyclops and Emma, showing signs of their growing independence from the Professor, tell him that’s not happening—they’re pissed at him for lots of stuff, but only they get to punish him for it—and we’re set for the next round.

This would be a good time to mention how perfect Andrea Di Vito’s art is for this story. His figures are smooth and exaggerated in the right way for super hero comics, even more so super hero comics with lots of fighting with fists flying, claws popping and energy blasts of every shape, size and color being tossed around. As he showed in Annihilation, Di Vito knows how to choreograph the visual aspect of a massive battle beautifully and also how to bring a large cast to life, two musts for this series. Di Vito’s art perfectly walks that line of intensity and fun with some brutality mixed in for effect, and it’s exactly what Gage’s script calls for here.

So with the second issue we get into the big ticket battles in earnest, as Hulk has some actual competition, and said competition continues to expand as the smashing continues and more X-Men—including Nightcrawler, Warpath, Darwin and Hepzibah—along with X-Factor get conscripted into service. You’ve got to love—or at least I do—how Gage doesn’t just go for the easy route of fan service taking all the toys out of the toy box and then putting all the work on Di Vito to just make an eternally neat premise come to life; he actually thinks out the fights and comes up with some genuinely clever twists. I dig how he solves the issue of Darwin, the mutant who evolves to face any threat, by having his power determine the best way to protect him is teleport him to Connecticut, thus taking him out of the fight.

Given their history, Wolverine and Hulk obviously get some significant screen time, although I’m once again impressed on how this creative team is able to push quality over quantity and not let this battle take away from any other in terms of real estate. Di Vito proves up to the task of depicting the requisite grisliness of Logan slicing up his most unbeatable foe and two guys with mega healing factors going to town, but my main kudos goes to another thinking man’s twist by Gage as to the resolution of the fracas—and I am of course going to spoil it here—as he has Hulk rattle Wolverine around by the head, reasoning that even though he can heal real quick from physical wounds, the brain damage caused by squishy gray matter inside an Adamantium skull is a lot tougher to bounce back from.

Another deserving character who gets a nice spotlight here is Colossus, the X-Men’s resident strong man and the Marvel Universe power broker who generally gets left out of the discussion when folks debate their Hulk vs Thor vs Thing battles. Peter Rasputin has a nice showing that focuses on how even though he’s no match for The Hulk—or probably any of those guys—from a pure power perspective, his heart and how much he cares about his friends keeps him in the game; it doesn’t stop him from getting brutally dispatched and having his metal arms broken backwards, but it keeps him in the game for a bit.

On that score, World War Hulk: X-Men is in a lot of ways about Christos Gage giving every X-Man across the board of power and popularity their turn to shine even if it’s in the smallest way, and it’s neat to see that kind of instant credibility a character can receive by lasting even a couple panels with The Hulk—and indeed Gage makes sure to impress upon us that is a big deal.

The Hong Kong action movie style you’d see in a Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan flick where the bad guys attack one at a time to give the star a chance to show off their moves is what Gage employs here with the X-Men as the henchmen, but in this case he manages to use the fight tableaus to give both combatants cool moments. Warpath gets to do a little slicing and dicing with his Vibranium knives before getting swatted away. Monet actually stands toe-to-toe for a bit. Strong Guy nearly gets the job done before being undone by the inherent limitations of his own power. Hepzibah uses the Blackbird as a lawn dirt. And Jamie Madrox gets to hold his own in a verbal spar with Emma Frost.

Nobody gets to shine like The Juggernaut though.

If you know Christos Gage or have ever read an interview with him, you know that he has his particular passion characters, among them Union Jack, Devil Dinosaur, Red Ronin and in particular The Juggernaut. He’s a pro, but he’s also a fanboy, and he’s a dude who loves seeing Juggernaut being big, bad, and crushing everything in his unstoppable path. By the time World War Hulk rolled around, Juggernaut had spent a couple of years at diminished power levels and on the side of angels; when he got his turn at bat, Gage decided to take a swing at bringing back the character he loved but without having to disrespect any work that had come before in the process.

In the second issue of World War Hulk: X-Men, Cain Marko makes a plea to his patron, Cyttorak, to amp his powers back up, ostensibly so he can rescue his half-brother, Professor X, from The Hulk, but ends up getting dropped into the action still at half-strength then stomped. Cyttorak wants his avatar back to being vicious, and realizing on some level that’s what he wants as well, Cain agrees to go back to being a badass, armoring back up and giving The Hulk a real run for his money. Gage scripts the Hulk-Juggernaut smackdown with glee while Di Vito brings his amped up A-game to bear on the comic book equivalent of slamming two locomotives together over and over. It’s a great fight, but perhaps more importantly it allowed Gage to add some edge back to Juggernaut without overwriting his years as a decent dude, placing some acknowledged internal struggle between the character’s desire to better and deeply held love for mayhem.

Without completely spoiling the ending—even with all I’ve already given away, you should still absolutely check this out for the stuff I haven’t plus the great art—the ultimate resolution comes from a fairly unlikely source and in a way that leaves the story without any real winners, a parallel to the larger story of World War Hulk.

Fitting the X-Men into larger events has been a tricky proposition since the days of Secret Wars, as they’re so vast and such an overwhelming presence that bringing them in without making the story all about them can be tough. Their co-star billing alongside the Avengers in House of M pretty much shoved everybody else out of the picture, while I can’t picture the main threads of Infinity Gauntlet, Civil War, Secret Invasion and so on holding up as solidly with a few dozen mutants crowding the picture. Off-to-the side stories that have value and make the X-Men part of the bigger happenings are always welcome and that’s what Gage and Di Vito give us here.

They also created a story I remembered as fun and then came to see as darn clever upon reflection, so well done all around.

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.

Underrated/Overlooked: Silver Surfer: Requiem

The Silver Surfer is not the easiest guy to make work as a protagonist. I’m a fan of a character and think he’s a great creation, not to mention one of comics’ greatest guest stars—he really adds weight and that “oh shit, things just got real” factor to any story—but when he’s the focus, it’s a tough sell.

To this day, probably the best Silver Surfer story of all—at least top three—is his introduction in Fantastic Four where he turns on Galactus and helps the FF save Earth. The tale of a stoic alien realizing we dumb humans may be worth saving and more or less turning on God to stand up for us is pretty spectacular as far as star turns go.

Unfortunately, even the best stuff with the Surfer on a long-term basis seems to stagnate. The first handful of issues in his initial solo series by Stan Lee and John Buscema are seriously killer, but you reach a point where you can only sit through so much pathos about being trapped on Earth/separated from his true love, and the “I don’t understand why humans are so needlessly violent…but I will save them anyways” routine gets played out rather rapidly. I likewise enjoyed what Jim Starlin and Ron Marz did with the Surfer back in the 90’s, but even they were hampered by his fairly unbeatable power set and basic detached nature; the first problem kept him in space fighting cosmic gods and nothing else while the second just made him tough to relate to or even like that much.

However, while he may not make an ideal candidate for ongoing series headline status, the Surfer has inspired some pretty great one-off tales, and I think Requiem, by J. Michael Straczynski and Esad Ribic, may well be among the very best.

The story is not set in continuity and depicts what happens when the Silver Surfer learns he is dying and how he spends his final days. Though there is action, it’s less an adventure—the end outcome is never really in doubt—and more a character study of Norrin Radd and his alter ego by JMS. Say what you will about Straczynski—everybody does—but you can really tell when he truly loves a character because few break them down and show what makes them work better, and he sure as heck must be fond of the Silver Surfer.

In four issues, we see the Surfer’s final journey to Earth as he seeks out the Fantastic Four to learn his fate, more or less an extended conversation with Spider-Man, a final cosmic tale centered around an age-old interstellar conflict, and finally, Norrin Radd’s return to Zenn-La, his reunion with Shalla Bal, and his ultimate encounter with Galactus.

The Surfer does not talk all that much throughout Requiem. He’s not silent and we’re given a window into his thoughts on his own mortality, what he has accomplished, his legacy, his view on humanity and other topics, but only speaks when moved to do so, and his words have great weight; it’s a far cry from the philosophizing wonderer of Lee’s early stories, who was special in his own right, but seems like a far younger version of the character.

Instead, it’s mostly through how others view him that JMS paints his picture of the Silver Surfer. The FF agonizes over being unable to help him overcome his gravest ordeal in light of all he has truly given at great cost to his own existence. Spider-Man realizes he has been guilty of always viewing him as an outsider, only to learn through a simple chat he may have greater insight into humanity than most people could dream of. Two alien generals witness his awesome power and feel his rage at not being able to solve all the universe’s problems, and worse, not understanding why he can’t. The people of Zenn La revere him for his tremendous sacrifice on their behalf. Shalla Bal sees simply the man she will always love. And finally, Galactus shows that even the most powerful being in the galaxy can learn respect.

The story reminds us of the silent nobility that the Surfer had back in those first appearances. We see a man whose near infinite capacity for putting himself in peril so that other may have a chance to simply be is rivaled only by his frustration at not understanding why everybody else can’t see things as he does.

Perhaps the finest moment in the series comes in the second issue during the encounter between the Surfer and Spider-Man. At Spidey’s behest, the Surfer shares his Power Cosmic with another, the Web-Slinger’s wife, Mary Jane Watson, as a birthday present. There’s a great aside where after the Surfer introduces himself as Norrin Radd to MJ, Spidey mentally chides himself for never thinking he had a real name, never seeing him as a person. Following the experience, answering a question the Surfer had earlier about how he could do something to help Earth before he died, Spider-Man suggests he allows the entire world to see things as he does for just five seconds—maybe it will make a difference, maybe it won’t, but people will at least glimpse and know that there’s a better way to live. It’s a beautiful beat.

Indeed the whole series is beautiful thanks to Ribic’s painted art. He’s a deliberate and particular talent who we don’t see new work from with great frequency because he is so specific about what projects he chooses and then pours himself into them for years at a time. Requiem benefits tremendously from Ribic’s commitment and patience.

Just as the Surfer is a tough guy to write, he’s a challenge for artists, as it’s really just a naked dude painted silver. The true masters from Jack Kirby to John Buscema to Moebius and so on have been able to leave their mark on the character by rising to this and going all out, not taking shortcuts that are pretty clearly there. Ribic walks a perfect balance between giving the Surfer an ethereal glow particularly in his facial expression and portraying his fading sheen as dictated by the story as very much an all-too-real metal that dents and bruises. He both makes the character almost larger than imagination and so close you can touch him. His portrayal of the Surfer’s power feels every bit as epic as it should, and his delicate work on the moving final scenes make the grief come off the page.

And his Galactus is sick.

Silver Surfer: Requiem depicts the Silver Surfer with all the promise and majesty he displayed when he first sprang forth from the minds of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. He fulfills his potential as a champion perhaps without fear facing his most trying and yet defining moments. And yet, good as the story and art are, I think they also show why the Surfer works best in small doses. This is a character you bottle up and save for special occasions, of which this is certainly one. It may be tough to make the Silver Surfer work, but when you can, it’s magic.