Sunday, April 30, 2006

Top 10 Comics since 1979
7. Animal Man #5: The Coyote Gospel

DC Comics
1989
Writer: Grant Morrison
Artists: Chas Troug,
Doug Hazelwood






Grant Morrison makes his first of four appearances on the countdown here. Animal Man was a mostly forgotten Silver Age character when Grant got his big stateside break on his revamp. The basics: Buddy Baker, by virtue of being to close to an exploding spaceship is given the ability to take on the natural abilities of any animal he comes into contact with (instead of, say, getting third degree burns or losing a limb). If he's around a bat he has radar, around a bird he can fly, around a...you get the idea.
It's Silver Age cornball at its height. But Grant made the correct decision, very early on in the run, of focusing more on Buddy himself, and his family, than on what fantastic abilities Buddy possessed. Paying the bills was just as important to the Bakers as saving the Universe.
That said, The Coyote Gospel has next to nothing to do with Buddy Baker, his family, or his abilities. Instead, it's Grant Morrison's howling, bizarre introduction to the DCU, a place he would always do his best work.

We begin with roadkill on the desert highway. Immediately we're given an image of nature under man's control, of destruction and violence.
But we're also shown the caring side of humanity, as we're privy to the conversation between a trucker and a runaway he's picked up along his route. He's full of stern, parental concern:
"I don't think you know how lucky you are I came along. Hitching In the desert is suicide, man."
"Yeah, well, the last guy kicked me out because I wouldn't, like, y'know..."
"Yeah, I know."
The trucker has a past in L.A., where young Carrie is heading. He offers her advice, turn back and go home. He knows the streets she'll be on soon. He also knows the road out:They drive on, singing along to the radio, their worries momentarily forgotten. Then, a shadow comes into the middle of the road, they slam into it head on. The girl is terrified, the trucker just stares ahead grimly. "Forget it, just don't look back."
But we don't follow the girl and the trucker down the road, we stay with their fresh kill.
The creature writhes in the sun, his organs and bones reforming. From the narration: "A newly activated nervous system is suddenly jammed with frantic signals, like an overworked switchboard. The creature shudders, weeping. Its pelvic girdle fuses along hairline sutures, to cradle rapidly healing organs..."
Grant's words give the creature vivid, disgusting life. He rises to his feet and, like any good movie monster, stares at his audience.
From the very beginning, we see there's something different about this beast. Something...strange, goofy, ok I'll say it: Looney.
Our friend Crafty is none other than Wile E. Coyote, Christ figure.

We rejoin the trucker, but he's much different. The silver cross is gone, and his head is shaved. His 'friend' Billy has died in an accident, his mother is dead of cancer, and he finds out that Carrie has been killed in a drug raid, after living as a prostitute in L.A.
He has lost the gentle, loving look in his eyes. He's a desperate, scared man. He has come to blame his loss on the devil. And the devil, in his eyes, is Crafty. Only by destroying the beast can he soothe his heart, and deal with his loss.
He finds Crafty and blows him off a high desert cliff. Any fan of Chuck Jones knows where this is heading:Troug and Hazelwood are not amazing artists, their style was pretty much par for the course in 1980's comics: just good enough to not be distractingly bad. But they do a wonderful job of recreating typical cartoon moments like the ones above, and I love this reaction shot, which is as close to eyes popping right out of Crafty's head as his new, more dynamic anatomy will allow.
But to the trucker he is Satan incarnate. That's the only thing his Christian background will allow him to see Crafty, and nature in general: as tools of the devil.This is not to say that the book is an attack on Christianity. The trucker is every bit as pathetic and pained as the coyote. But his single minded obsession with defeating evil blinds him to the fact that he shares Crafty's pain.

Crafty seeks out Buddy, and it is Buddy that he gives his grand message of faith to: The Gospel According to Crafty.Crafty comes from a world where constant, meaningless violence is accepted as the norm and never questioned. Where cartoon critters maim and explode each other endlessly for the entertainment of a cruel, vengeful God. Crafty goes up into the presence of God, an animator on a golden throne with blood red paint dripping from it.Crafty is sent 'into the dark hell of the second reality" to bear "the suffering of the world", on the condition that while he does, God will make peace between the beasts of his world. Crafty is not so much a Christ as a Prometheus, defying the will of God to serve humanity, to "overthrow the tyrant God, and build a better world."
But even Animal Man cannot help Crafty.And the trucker, slave to a vengeful God just as Crafty is, makes his last effort, with a silver bullet made from the cross he'd worn (a denial of Christ, of the resurrection). The bullet finds its mark, and the trucker collapses, mission accomplished.Will he ever get up again? Given that he has nothing left to live for, it hardly seems to matter.

There's no way Buddy can know the larger importance of what he's witnessing, but he stays with Crafty as he dies, out of basic, human compassion.You don't need a thought bubble to read "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me" in those eyes.
But, as he bleeds his last, Crafty is ultimately given the peace that he sought. His God delivers to him, at last, a dignified and merciful death.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

New Comic Reviews:
Astonishing X-Men, X-Factor, Frankenstein

ASTONISHING X-MEN #14

I'm not a giant Joss Whedon fan: I liked Buffy, but I hated Serenity.
But what Whedon's doing for the X-Men I totally love.

I grew up reading X-Men, so they're characters that are ingrained in my psyche: Cyclops, Wolverine, Jean Grey, Storm, the whole lot of 'em. But when you look at the stands and see 17 X-books, and only a handful of them worth exploring, you realize that Marvel is stretching the concept way too thin.
What Whedon does that the other writers don't is take risks. Some, like the return of Colossus, are unforgettable; some, like the sentient Danger Room, are brilliant failures.
What I love about this issue is that it puts the spotlight, finally, on Scott Summers, aka Cyclops. Most writers never touch on Scott, except as a straight-laced foil to Wolverine. No run that I can remember focused on Scott himself, who he is inside and what drives his need for total control, of himself and mutants at large.
Whedon also does what should have been done a long, long time ago: making Emma the White Queen again. Emma Frost will never be anything but, well:That's not Wolverine, by the way, it's Emma toying with Scott's confidence. Emma is slipping back to her old ways, and she's doing it gradually, even though she's such a powerful psychic she could do whatever she wanted to Scott. She's molding him into the man she needs him to be to stand at her side when she flips.
But, whether or not Scott's decision is an illusion, placed in his memories by Emma, it's a sad and moving moment. Also, I'm damn near giddy about the return of Cassandra Nova, the best thing Grant Morrison ever gave the Marvel Universe. She's pure malice in that panel, and Whedon should take full, evil advantage of her presence.
I continue to be floored by John Cassaday's art: he's a man among little boys over at Marvel, and I'm glad they give him the time he needs to be this wonderful. What I love the most is how ordinary he makes the X-Men look. These are not the straight-from-an-80's-fashion mag X-people of Jim Lee or even John Byrne: these are real people, and you grieve and laugh with them all the more because of it.
And, along the same line of thought, I really love his Jean Grey. She's so girl-next-door lovely, but haunted. Just like she should be. I hope this is setting up another return, because enough already: we need Phoenix back. This was a great, fun issue. Astonishing is back on the right track, this run looks amazing.

ASTONISHING X-MEN #14: A+


X-FACTOR #6

Meanwhile, over in the only other X-book you should be bothering to read, Syrin lies in bed recovering from her viscous beating two issues back, and her bondage-tinged ordeal last issue. While the X-Factor crew talks over each other about what to do, Rictor lashes out at Layla. "You come out of nowhere saying you 'know stuff'...You made sure I was at that gas station when that girl was in trouble...and that guy who was ready to kill me...winds up being taken out by you, because he just happens to be standing in the right place to be electrocuted?...Did you know Terry was going to be jumped, Layla? And if so, why didn't you do whatever it is you do to stop it?"
Finally we get to the heart of Layla Miller, who she is, where she came from, and how she 'knows' what she 'knows'. Ever since she first appeared in the big House of M event, she's been at once an irritant and a breath of fresh air. We learn here that Layla is essentially a ripple in space and time, a living embodiment of chaos theory. But beyond that, we like Layla immensely by the end of this one. Stripped of her adopted family she loses her know-it-all smirk and is subject to the same abuse that her mutant (and former mutant) brethren are. She becomes fragile and real.Denis Calero is surprisingly effective here. He does best at small, personal moments (he could never have made the splash page at the end of issue 1 hit as hard as Sook); there is some striking art in this book. There is also more of the amateurish, ugly postures and bizarre expressions of the last few issues.
I'll say this much about Denny Calero: he is not a great artist now, but in time he could be. I'm still not sure I want him on X-Factor, but I'm having trouble now picturing it without him.
X-FACTOR #6: A-


FRANKENSTEIN #4

I've never tripped on mushrooms, but after reading this issue I think I may know what it's like. Frankenstein #4 genuinely threw me, but in a good way. It took me quite a few reads to pin this issue down, but once I did, it blew me away.Grant Morrison may have found his ideal collaborator in Doug Mahnke. There is something so specific about the worlds he can create visually that syncs pefectly with what Grant does. His worlds are fantastic, but they feel real, and immediate.

We open with our man Frankie trudging to battle with Neh-Buh-Luh, the Huntsman who we find is still pining away for Misty, Zatanna's sidekick and Snow White of this here tale.
"There was harmony, symmetry and beauty in her. I cannot forget. Like an insect writhing on a pin in the glare of the sun. I cannot forget her."
I love how much more elevated the speech and narration is in the Frankenstin minis than the other Seven Soldiers books, it adds to the out-of-time feel of the hero.

Neh-Buh-Luh is defeated, not so much by Frankenstein, but by an internal flaw, so says Frankie:Those supermen were the International Ultramarine Corps way back in JLA Classified. He is brought down by billions of years of internal decay. I'll miss the Nebula-Man, though. I hope, somehow he still makes an appearance in Seven Soldiers #1.
Frankie, with the help of S.H.A.D.E., tracks the Sheeda to Miracle Mesa, where this whole thing began, to Castle Revolving. Oh, and he's not alone:Justin, is that you?

From that point, we flash forward to one Billion years later.
The Earth is being pulled into the sun, the Sheeda stand victorious. We are at the end of time. We are, at last, at Summer's End. We now know where the Sheeda come from: they are invaders from our own end, they are (as Gloriana tells Frankie, taunting him with the apple like the snake in Eden) human, the last end of evolutionary progress. The final stop in the survival of the fittest, and they travel back through time to feast on civilizations throughout history at will. Frankie, bless his undead heart, is unimpressed as ever. He brings down the bulk of the Sheeda fleet, and challenges Gloriana, taking her back to our time to face death and judgment. A thrilling end to a spectacular series. To be continued...

FRANKENSTEIN #4: A+

Monday, April 24, 2006

Top 10 Comics since 1979
8. Infinite Crisis #4: Homecoming

DC Comics
March 2006
Writer: Geoff Johns
Pencils: Phil Jimenez, George Perez, Ivan Reis







What in the hell is this issue doing on my list, you ask? Well, let me put it this way: I'm pretty discriminating when it comes to film (or a snob as some wags might say); but until I die The Empire Strikes Back will be on my all-time Top Ten Films list. Sometimes, you just need a little action and excitement.
Or one hell of a good fight.

Infinite Crisis, as detailed elsewhere on this site, has been up and down. I read the first issue and enjoyed some of it (Bizarro's bloody dispatching of the Human Bomb, for instance; Batman's scathing line to Superman: "The last time you inspired anyone was when you were dead."); but the ending, bringing back the Crisis on Infinite Earths alternate universe crew seemed oddly handled. I was left cold by issue two, the Power Girl origin crap and the continuing drone of how rotten the current DCU was, and how beautiful it had been in the Golden Age (otherwise known as Earth-2).
But Issue 3 was a tremendous turnaround: Alex Luthor ad Superboy-Prime revealed as the masterminds behind the Crisis; Earth-2 Superman's offer to Batman; and Themiscrya Island fading into oblivion as Wonder Woman looks on.
Also, the art was gorgeous. Something about the look of the first two books just felt off,the inking in particular. All the Crisis books have been inked 'by committee' to get the product out faster, and the first books were ugly and rushed as a result.
But the penciling has been solid: Phil Jimenez has proven himself, on his days penciling the Invisibles, as one of the tightest artists in comics today. His style is clean and bold, making him a perfect choice for a big event like this. The messy look of the first issue especially caught me off guard, but by Issues 3 and 4, the inks were better and as a result, the action hit harder.

We open on Alex and Luthor overseeing the destruction of Bludhaven, in a great opening sequence featuring Chemo, the evil green giant of the DCU and a gorilla in a bandolier (sweet Christ I love comics in moments like these).
"Do you think Chemo understands what we're gonna do?"
"I do not think he cares."
Chemo himself has very little to say on the subject.The whole sequence reminds me of Hitchiker's Guide when the Sperm Whale is brought into existence by the Probability Drive, only to be splattered blubber bits seconds later ("Hey, what's this thing suddenly coming towards me very fast? Very very fast. So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide-sounding name like...ow...ound...round...ground! That's it! That's a good name-ground! I wonder if it will be friends with me?")

Anyway, millions of people are vaporized, and Alex and Superboy-Prime have a typically James Bond villain moment with Power Girl, locked into her place on their tower. They explain to her, now that she's locked into Anti-Monitor corpse powered phallic symbol, just how they've manipulated both the heroes and villains of the DCU. All they need is Alex Luthor sitting in a chair stroking a fluffy white cat.

Geoff Johns is a fun writer, he has good ideas, but sometimes he gets cutesy, or maudlin. In this issue he strikes, most of the time, the right notes in his scenes. The focus of the emotion here is between Batman and Nightwing, Dick Grayson, former Robin. Bruce Wayne clearly views Dick with the stunned pride of a father realizing his son's grown into a decent and noble man and wondering: what did I possibly have to do with that?
Batman's raging self-doubt has become personified in Brother Eye, his superhero spy satellite, and here is a man who lived through the same trauma that Bruce did, who fought the same criminals, felt the same pain, joined the same cause.
But he is standing tall in the light while Batman cowers in the shadows.It's a nice moment, but a note that has not been maintained for the rest of the Crisis books. Dick Grayson made a choice to walk away from Batman, and become his own man, and take on another identity while still fighting crime. I had thought Infinite Crisis was going to make it clear just how hard that decision was, and just what kind of a man Dick was. But so far, it's fallen short of that promise.

But the main event, taking up over half of the book's length, and the reason that this book ranks on this list, is without a doubt the spectacular fight between the current DCU Superboy, Conner Kent and Superboy of Earth-Prime. Superboy-Prime is a bundle of raw, eternally pubescent nerves who's been huddled away in a heavenly prison for the past twenty years. He watches Conner live the life he never had a chance to, and grows to hate him for his inaction, for his self-doubt.
In a sense, Conner's doubt is a greater reflection on the fact that Superboy-Prime is forever frozen in time: he's never experienced the doubts that Conner has because he is forever young and hopeful, never feeling the heavy weight of responsibility that comes with age.
Superboy-Prime sees in Conner a reflection of his lost future: the cute girlfriend, the cool friends, the supportive family. Face to face with his doppelganger twenty years of pent up, homicidal rage come pouring out.The battle is intense, Jimenez is just great here. He perfectly captures Superboy-Prime's supreme indignation and growing insanity.
Going into this issue I knew nothing about either of the fighters, aside from the basics. I knew that Superboy-Prime was the silver age Superman-to-be; and that Conner came out of the whole Return of Superman mess and used to dress in leather and look like a complete tool. After this issue, and this fight, Superboy-Prime went down as the best villain in the DCU in years, and Conner Kent became somebody that I could really root for.
Conner is little match for the pure fury of Superboy-Prime's attack. What do you do against a guy who can fling a taxi at you like it's a Matchbox racer?You call in the Teen Titans, of course.This is where Superboy-Prime loses it forever, when everything truly goes to shit. Cornered and scared, and not understanding the unlimited depths of his powers, Superboy-Prime mows through C and D list Titans, in bloody and horrific fashion.
No, really:The moment is as heartbreaking as it is visceral, as Superboy-Prime pleads for understanding, but can't contain his impulses. He kills at will, tears streaming down his face.Again, I give Jimenez credit for the power of this scene. He creates a chaotic composition that mirrors Superboy-Prime's mental state. He is a little boy lost. He was a hero all his life but now he is beyond saving. What we are witnessing is the tragic origin of the most powerful villain in the DC Universe.
The Titans are bailed out by the Flashes (Jay Garrick the original, Wally West the Post-Crisis Flash, and Bart Allen, current Kid Flash), who come out of nowhere and drag Superboy-Prime along with them at supersonic speed.This is the great moment in Infinite Crisis. The moment that forever links it with its predecessor, Crisis on Infinite Earths. Jay's body gives out on him, and he falls behind. Wally disappears to who knows where (with his family in tow, a cheesy moment that almost stalls the momentum of the scene). Bart is left alone to pull Superboy into the speed zone, with Superboy taunting him all the way. Bart releases his anger and, out of the great shining oblivion beyond comes a hand:It's Barry Allen, the Silver Age Flash, whose death in Crisis on Infinite Earths was one of the all-time great moments in superhero books (creepy just to think about, his face receding until the Flash was nothing more than an empty costume). And, even better, it's George Perez, penciller of the first Crisis, supplying the art. Perez has improved with time. He could always draw a spectacular crowd scene, but this the level of surprise and emotion he brings to this scene is unmatched in his career.
It's the goose-bump moment that Ininite Crisis needed so badly.
With his grandfather's help, Bart pushes Superboy-Prime away into the Speed Zone. As as he fades into nothingness he cries, "When I grow up I'm going to be Superman! Don't any of you understand?! I'm going to be Superma..."
The Silver Age hero that sacrificed himself to save the world has returned to defeat the Silver Age hero that came to destroy it.

I'm a sucker for cross-overs. Well done cross-overs, that is. One of the things I love most about DC Comics is their rich, full Universe, and their ability to shift and play with their characters in ways that are far more meaningful than they're doing down the street at Marvel. Think about it: one of the most beloved icons of the Silver Age has been turned into a raving psycho killer. That takes a measure of guts, because although the kids buying this book don't care about the old Superboy, the collectors who grew up with him do. I hope to see Superboy-Prime stay, he's a great, great villain.
In the end, Infinite Crisis is like a typical summer blockbuster. Loud, corny, and at times obnoxious. But at its heights, it's an absolute blast.