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.

Five Comics Worth Reading - June 2011

BATMAN BEYOND
I was not a regular viewer of the Batman Beyond cartoon—caught a couple stray episodes, the Return of the Joker movie and then the Justice League Unlimited crossover stuff—but Adam Beechen and company have made sure that’s hardly a prerequisite to enjoying this comic. An elderly Bruce Wayne mentoring a snarky new Batman in the future seems like a pretty slam dunk premise, but what I dig about this book is the effort Beechen puts into not resting on the concept’s laurels and pushing himself to go further. Terry McGinnis’ is a great character—he’s Peter Parker with more swagger as Batman—but Beechen focuses on fleshing out the world around him, from his relationship issues—the classic “my girlfriend thinks I’m bailing on her because I’m a super hero” routine but done with panache—to a techno-conspiracy enveloping his best friend/sidekick. There has also been expansion to the Batman/DC Universe elements I believe the cartoon only touched on, including bringing in Dick Grayson, giving the Justice League a bigger role and starting to dig into what happened to Bruce following his Batman career. It’s all stuff that can be pulled off better in the comic book format than in episode TV aimed primarily at kids, so I applaud Beechen, Ryan Benjamin, et al. for embracing the new avenues open to them while keeping the heart of the show and what made it work intact.

GENERATION HOPE
There are few things tougher in this current comic book climate than creating new characters with distinct voices who can hopefully capture the attention of the audience, but with Generation Hope, Kieron Gillen faced this challenge not once but multiple times, with a cast whose most tenured star has only been around a couple years and that includes five newbies that he and Matt Fraction introduced only months ago. There may have been some growing pains early on, but the Five Lights and their leader have genuinely won me over to the point where I’m quite compelled to see what’s up with them each issue and the X-Men guest stars serve more to place them in the larger universal context than anything, thanks in large to the clever and endearing writing of Mr. Gillen. These kids stand out from the New Mutants or Young X-Men of the past in so many ways, not limited to their complete lack of preparation for this life given a world where nascent mutants have become scarce as well as the paramilitary yet arguably practical lifestyle Hope took from her mentor, Cable, and is passing on to her fellow barely adolescents. I enjoy the soap opera I’d argue is paramount for any X-Men title worth its salt, but also the more sinister touches, like exactly how much sway Hope holds over her “friends” and to what degree they realize it. There are also neat well thought out and uniquely Gillen touches like the idea of a mutant who manifests in the womb or the seemingly canine Teon delivering a compelling speech in court because his power is to adapt to situations, and the other Lights then wondering if he was being genuine or if “adapting” in this case meant keeping proximity to Hope whether he liked it or not. Salva Espin is matching the tone of the book nicely, upping his game each month both in terms of bringing fun nuance to the lighter moments and letting his experimental side run wild on a character like Kenji.

INCREDIBLE HULKS
Greg Pak is finishing out a five-year run with The Hulk, and you can tell he’s enjoying every last second of his swansong. If there’s one thing Pak’s Hulk has never been, it’s understated, so when he put together a multi-part spy story that featured Bruce Banner going undercover with a tux—that Hulk promptly ripped—and cool gadgets to save his wife-turned-Red-She-Hulk who had thrown in with his old foe Tyrannus on a quest for Pandora’s Box, you better believe he was going to wring every last drop of awesome out of that description, not skimping at any second for less smashing, fighting, big set pieces or over-the-top resolutions than you’d expect. There have been no shortage of pathos over the last five years, but aside from a healthy dose of heartache peppered throughout and culminating at the conclusion, that arc was more about enjoyment than emotion. Now we come to “Heart of the Monster,” Pak’s big five-part finale, and thus far he’s already brought in every element from the previous story plus Bi-Beast—BI-BEAST!—Wendigo, the Troyjan from Peter David’s legendary run, Fin Fang friggin’ Foom, Umar, a wishing well, possibly the fountain of youth and surely more to come. Pak has also brought Amadeus Cho back to where he started out as Hulk’s alternating tech wiz/sidekick/comic relief and it’s been a beautiful fit. Also also, Tom Grummett on the last arc and Paul Pelletier here are about as delightful a one-two artistic punch as you can ask for. Everything about Pak’s Hulk run has been wonderfully well-rounded, delivering massive action alongside laughs, angst and character development, so this is proving a fitting farewell.

WOLVERINE: THE BEST THERE IS
If there’s anything book on the market today that delivers pretty much what’s advertised on the cover in spades, I do believe it’s Wolverine: The Best There Is, and for the record I consider that a good thing. Up front in black and white you’ve got no shortage of labels letting you know this is not a comic for immature readers or the weak of heart, and it’s not; it’s Charlie Huston’s glorious ode to hyper violence and taking off the safety as you only can with a character like Wolverine—or perhaps only with Wolverine, period—as illustrated with fiendish and sickeningly beautiful visual glee by Juan Jose Ryp. The first arc saw creepy new villain Contagion attempt to unlock the secret to Logan’s healing factor by employing every nefarious trick in his arsenal, be it his own ability to produce the grisliest plagues he could imagine, mind games of the crudest nature, or his array of henchmen with regenerative abilities of their own—a mix of Marvel obscurities Huston delighted in reviving or his own creations—hacking away at our hero in manners most hideous. Best There Is serves as the comic book equivalent of a grind house horror flick in the tradition of Jason Aaron’s Ghost Rider, building on brutality, turning the amps louder than they should logically go, and making an experiment in four color sadism the kind of fun you feel mildly guilty about having. Plus: “Suicide” Chris Daniels (not to be confused with Christopher Daniels aka Suicide)!

XOMBI
On the surface, I almost feel like Xombi is a book that should be too smart for me—a testament to the sophistication and layers John Rozum brings to it—but when I get to actually reading, I’m able to follow along without much trouble and get absorbed into a the weirdness of it all—a testament to how skillfully he and the people working with him manage and present those elements as strengths rather weaknesses. The series’ lead, David Kim, is basically immortal and resultantly a bit emotionally detached, but Rozum chooses to examine that condition, letting the narrative live in large part in Xombi’s head, challenging the merits as well as the pitfalls of being so apart from the world at once in a clinical manner but an impassioned one that can’t break free as well. Our cold point of view figure proves a perfect lens to a fantastically bizarre world that includes super-powered nuns, demons powered by their own reputation and men who get their information from loose change. Xombi delights in its weirdness but also knows how to throw in some darn good fight scenes amidst the conspiracies and mythologies, with all of it powered by Frazer Irving, an immensely talented artist whose style stands out amongst anything else in comics, appearing more like wood carvings than drawings at times, and matching up nicely with the story Rozum’s telling, both residing on a plane so separate from about anything else you’ll read. There’s nothing else on the stands anything like Xombi, and I look forward already to reading it back as a whole and enjoying it perhaps even more than I have the parts.