Detective Comics #828

Writer: Paul Dini
Pencils: Don Kramer
Inks: Wayne Faucher
Colors: John Kalisz
Letters: John J. Hill

You know, I really haven't given a serious shout-out to the cover artist (Simone Bianchi in this case) in my reviews or in the header that leads off each review. I mention this for two reasons, the first being the sheer number of people listed for this review; seems like no one is doubling up on duties for this comic, which really has to make for an interesting creative process. From what little I know, the inker really brings out the final, impressionistic quality of the penciller's work, and the colorist has something of a similar impact on the inker's approach. Lettering is probably the least appreciated (at least, from my and my fellow heads' rather rudimentary understanding of the comic genre) aspect of the comic, and, yes, there is a specific letterer here...who is probably suffering from Todd Klein envy, but that's neither here nor there. The first point is that with everyone I've taken the trouble to list both here and elsewhere, I still did not list the cover artist. And the second point? The cover pretty much sums up both the issue and Dini's run on the series thus far.

Just to cliché it up, even if a picture is worth a thousand words, we'll see what the next few dozen can do (although, you could just go online – or, rather, continue to be online – and check out the bloody image for yourself; anyways, if you opt out of that read on). Like every other cover thus far – in my time on the run that is – it's black and white, save for a yellow outline surrounding "Detective Comics." This bordering lends an extra emphasis to those words, which is an important note I will come back to later. The words themselves rest atop rays of light – an intrusion also in need of further discussion – slanting into the Batcave. At first glance it could well be a spotlight, an intense halogen of some kind, yet closer examination does not bear it out: as such; the light is too broken, too varied in intensity; it streams into the picture, does not bear down this is sunlight making its way into the cave's dark recesses. The background enlightened thus consists of broken and bare rock, a stereotypical cave wall – at least for those growing up as I have, experiencing the notion of rock as worn and shaped by water and the dark. In the foreground, and this is where it gets interesting, The Batman/Bruce Wayne sits in a chair – the usual high-backed super-gamer variety consistently seen throughout comics and films – in deep contemplation. His face is obscured by his left hand, brought up in a thoughtful pose that creates a number of shadows and planes across his face, while his right hand clutches his cowl; this is Bruce Wayne in The Batman's garb we see before us, computer consoles and screens arcing around him in the middle ground. And, somehow, from the shadows of the face and chair, our eyes are consistently drawn back to the light streaming, which implies flowing, into this small segment of the cavern.

Or, rather, one's gaze is not perpetually drawn back toward the light coming in (here's where we touch on the light again) from the top center of the page: one's gaze is, in fact, split. Our hero's shadowed and obscured face demands equal time and recognition alongside the rock reformed as a pool of light by the strongest of the light rays that, in my eyes at least, introduces this page to our view. It is more a movement between two states – one light and the other in shadow – an ineffable in-between that defines this cover; this is what is so impressive, so memorable.

To complete the chiasmic tact taken thus far, it's probably high time to address that aside dealing with the "Detective Comics" logo. The reason the emboldened logo matters so much is that, fundamentally, these words epitomize the stories Dini tells, with this issue in particular representing the apex of said stories thus far. Moder approaches in other comics have played up The Batman's drive, Bruce Wayne's attempts at a "normal" life, even the character's exceptional fighting skills. We look up descriptions of the Dark Knight on Wikipedia and other resources and listed under Abilities is "genius-level intelligence," yet that intelligence is typically employed as a justification for a certain healthy paranoia more heroes of the non-superpowered set could stand to adopt. Dini's Caped Crusader is simply blindingly intelligent and observant: not one damn thing escapes his notice. Not only that, but he is unrelenting; whether he knows why or not, if something manages to strike him as not quite right at a crime scene he'll keep at it until he knows what that something is or is confident that he was playing that old grabbing at straws game we all know and love. My exposure to The Bat in a pre-Modern Age setting is restricted to, for the most part, The Greatest Batman Stories Ever Told, a volume my brother picked up in the '80s that I read time and time again...do I ever miss that book. Predominantly Silver age tales, these stories struck a certain balance was struck between The Batman as fighter and The Batman as detective. These days his detecting is more a demonstration of coolness or cleverness on the writer's part. I can say, though, from what I read then and what I've read since that this is the definitive The Bruce as the Detective in a way we have only seen in flashes over the last twenty years.

As an aside, I futz with the various nicknames for our hero not only 'cause I'm playful like that, but also because the presence of his many monikers is a demonstration not only of popularity, but a certain difficulty inherent to the character. We have no definitive name because we do not know who he is: Bruce Wayne as The Batman, The Batman as Bruce Wayne, Bruce/Batman, a fundamentally fractured personality Alfred has nurtured for years for reason completely unexplored...who knows. As such, and until my feature debuts discussing my own take, I opt for a variety of names if only to highlight every aspect of the character.

As regards plot, the issue is perfectly happy as a one shot, content to tell its tale and move on to the next event. A friend of Bruce's (actually Bruce's) falls into the ocean off a yacht hosting an art museum fund raiser...it's Bruce's yacht so he goes all The Batman on it...friend dies following a shark attack but inconsistent marks on the body arouses Bruce's suspicions. It plays out from there with a heavy emphasis on the detecting and not the fighting. Yeah, there's a fight sequence but it's not exactly memorable, rather silly really. Why in God's name would he know "Kiribati" martial arts? For that matter, why wouldn't he just bitch slap the dude rather than opt for a disadvantage by matching the style? He's The-Freaking-Batman!!!!! Break a couple limbs and get on with your day already. In fairness this is just about the only misstep story-wise all issue, but it does tick me off a touch.

Back to the detecting by way of story, though, and what we have here is something that comes close to a Sherlock Holmes-style tale. Growing up on that wily old sleuth, the one thing that bothered me as I got older was the lack of evidence provided within the tale itself. Sure, a carbuncle is a stone, but how was I supposed to know that one was stolen recently and that meant A led to B and onwards to A-Bizarro. The moral, however, is that we are not meant to outwit the hero; yes, he holds cards we never knew existed, yet that is for the precise reason that he is the hero. So the partial clues we get (oh, and by the way, a little realization: read any Holmes story title closely and you'll be pleasantly surprised by the number of clues contained therein; much like Borges and the Eternal Orangutans...chew on that while considering the crappy title of "Sharkbite") are alright in that for our hero they are something more and less than partial: he simply functions differently. This is why the contemplative look shrouded in shadow is so phenomenal adjacent to the empty cowl: this is neither Bruce Wayne, nor is it The Batman...it is simply The Detective, as Ra's Al Ghul would say.

It should be clear by now that the story and the character it manages to evoke is the star of the comic. Consequently, the art is hardly the focus of this issue, nonetheless it remains useful. No splash pages dominate the interior pages – certainly nothing like the cover work – nor is there ever a tight focus on an equally tensed musculature. In fact the art on first view comes across as rather pedestrian, but this is why first views are rarely enough. Though The Batman is hardly impressive and appears primarily as a man in too tight spandex, Bruce Wayne ain't no great shakes either. Bruce's build is that of a prep with a solid sports background – probably something team oriented but physical like hockey, lacrosse or football – and too much breeding, a story told by the lines that make his face interesting but hardly beautiful. In truth, I object to both depictions as I prefer The Batman to be a paragon of the human physique, as beautiful as it is dangerous, and Bruce Wayne as the handsome and dissembling playboy with movie star looks. (That last component in particular makes the occasional view of his back with all of its scars that much more stunning and meaningful, say during the Hush story arc for instance.) Thing is the story would suffer were the art to take over. Its pure functionality really nails down the importance of the strides he takes, the purposefulness of each move our detective hero makes. What sets The Batman apart is not just his physical ability, but his intelligence and mindset. Dini has clearly taken the notion of "Detective Comics" to heart.

The paneling and lettering is executed in a similarly appropriately conducive manner, keeping the views tight and mostly from the shoulders up when viewing any given character. This in fact may be the strongest component of the artistic design in that every major player has some sort of a focused frame on their upper body and head. Characters do, however, remain distinct, with the set of shoulders, the angling of the head all expressing their, um, character. Even Bruce and Bats have dissimilar bearings, yet there is a unifying intensity, an appraising value, that breaches the surface, if only ever so somewhat, in both. Again, this reinforces the notion that it is the detecting, the intellectual exercise that is the key element to the story, not the actual players (and this might be a more chilling attitude than "Paranoid Bruce-Man," that people represent abstract variables in the coldest machinations of his detecting mind with all of their characteristics and actions factored in purely in the mathematical and not for the qualitative perspectives they offer).

It may seem strange that I praise to high heaven the cover work and am comfortable with less than impressive interior art. If you'll allow me to digress, and you should seeing as you've made it this far, I'll explain my reasoning in slightly greater detail. Cover work is, at least in this case, a distillation of the story it promotes. In picking out certain ideas and approaches, it has the advantage of being thematic and moody, even when the story's art cannot be. This oftentimes opens a gulf between a cover and the pages it houses (see Fables for a textbook example), but such a gulf or disconnect always takes place in the comic medium, save that rare and as-yet-unnamed tier. Bridging that gap is what makes the reading so fun. This is not to say that there is not a style or artist whose work might better express the visual element of the story without sacrificing the plot; it's just that in this case, the art works fine and does not hurt a fascinating take on the title character.

Point is, this issue is great. Every read reinforces what is from the get-go a good read. A few times in and you're hooked. Missteps do rear their ugly heads, from the action scenes to some slightly implausible moments – The Batman's quick appearance at sea had to raise at least a couple halfway competent eyebrows – but they really don't detract that much from the issue's overall strength. In point of fact, such occurrences remind one even more strongly of the Silver Age with its omnipresent Batman. I haven't gone into any number of the interesting plot points and devices, but this is long enough already, yeah?

Ranking: Voltron 'cause for all of its strengths it ain't perfect.

Ghost Rider: Trail of Tears

Writer: Garth Ennis

Artist: Clayton Crain

Fan boys. The word inspires dread in the hearts of recreational comic readers. Fat, sweaty, middle-aged men with too, too big T-shirts with their favorite super hero logo on it, but just barely recognizable from the thousands of wash cycles it has endured. Men that will most assuredly argue with you about how Captain America is the best super hero ever, not just some guy in spandex that can catch his extra special shield. I hate fan boys.

That being said, I am a fan boy for Garth Ennis. There hasn't been a single thing that I have read, from Preacher to Punisher, Hellblazer and back, that I didn't absolutely love. I'm not saying that I've read everything the man has written. I'm sure that somewhere out there, probably, maybe, I speculate, is something that totally sucks giant, sweaty balls. I just haven't found it.

This success is sustained with the first issue of Ghost Rider: Trail of Tears. This issue is the build-up children, the only glimpse of the flambéed vengeance seeker is on the cover. The story opens near the end of the Civil War, focusing on a Confederate soldier that most assuredly will become the comic's namesake. Saved by an ex-slave named Caleb who bought freedom for himself and his entire family, our soldier boy finds himself regretting not only his side in the war but the whole war altogether. This is where I find Ennis' story a little troubled. Fan boy or no, I have some small worries that this comic may fall into clichés easily. The Confederate soldier learning the wrongs of his ways, the strong hint that the man and family that saved him will be destroyed in the next issue, the vengeance he most probably will seek because of that destruction are all directions that this comic could head in. These aren't huge leaps of imagination I'm making here, they are standard comic book fare that we all have grown to love and loath at the same time. I hope, hope, hope that if Ennis does travel down any one of these roads that he at least takes the back roads and not the freeway. Don't let me down you Irish bastard! That being said, at this point everything is setup, nothing is written in stone. Ennis could go on to change what we percieve to be coming at the end of the issue to something entirely different. He did it with Preacher all the time. Sneaky fucker.

While I am worried about the future/past of Ghost Rider, I love the ink in this book. From the blue flamed skull over a historical map of the U. S. that dons the cover to the Grim Reaper like appearance of Caleb on the deserted battlefield to the no named god that Travis Parham encounters, everything is perfect. Clayton Crain managed to set the mood nicely without being cheesy. With Crain's fleshed out scenes and attention to detail I will continue to read this run even if Ennis runs the story into the ground, though that isn't likely to happen, I hope.


Overall, being forced to give a rating since that's why I reviewed it, I would give this comic a Snake Eyes. It has a lot going for it but some may find it is just my fan boy crush.

unhappy circumstance

I didn't mean for things to turn out this way, i promise.

fellow Hell-hounds,

Directly below is the 10th Cerberus single issue review. This occassion calls for a shit-ton of pomp and to a lesser extent, circumstance. Said circumstance being the unfortunate unveiling of our 7th and most dire comic ranking yet. Thomas and Jake, my unflagging compatriots were carousing about Dis a few weeks back when a close friend offered a suggestion. An answer to the problem Cerberus was facing regarding our lack of an absolute bottom of the barrel ranking. Close friend said, "Why not Joe Camel?" As in "look out kids, reading this stuff will give you cancer!" We mulled and considered, unsure if we ever really would come across a comic that was so bad it deserved such a dishonour. Then Grant Morrison returned from sabbbatical. And the rest is history.

Take 'er easy, Dudes,

the Cerberus

PS- check out the tenth review below, and as always, we'd love to know what you think. In particular, what do you think should be our currently un-named, most exhalted, damn near perfect top 'o the heap ranking? Howl on my brothers.

Batman #663

Batman #663
WRITER: Grant Morrison
(art: John van Fleet)

Grant Morrison, you've put me in an awkward position. I'm trying to make sense of your controversial return to the Bat-fold. Yet in order to do so I need to come to an immediate conclusion. Is issue #633 a comicbook? Thanks to the wonder of wikipedia i have a host of definitions at my disposal to help me come to terms with this quandary. Our first contender...

Will Eisner (1996): Comics are "the printed arrangement of art and balloons in sequence."

Eisner's definition implies a marriage of text and graphics to the extent that text supports image. Words are seconday to the point where they are marginalized into balloons. Issue #663 has a shit-ton of words--words words everywhere and not a drop to ink (hehehe, er, ugh). Words filling up every last square inch of page. no 'negative' or 'dead' space at all which now that I think about it makes me think even more poorly of this product than i already did. Van Fleet's illustrations (and they are just that, graphic renderings of a text complete enough that it does not need images to exist) seem tacked on. So by Eisner's definition we have a definitive no. Round two, fight!...

Scott McCloud (1993) Comics are "juxtaposed pictorial and other images in deliberate sequence, intended to convey information and/or to produce an aesthetic response in the viewer."

Now things get more complicated. Four main points. Juxtaposition, sequence, information conveyance and aesthetic response. Did Issue #633 manifest an aesthetic response in me? Yes, enough to make me think it's a fucking trainwreck. Is information conveyed? Yes, in the form of a bad prose poem in dire need of an editor. Is there a sequence? yes, there are even 'chapters.' Juxtaposition? ah, there's the rub. There is juxtapostion but it is completely ineffectual and boring. Part of the greatness of comics is inference--inferring meaning through gestures, conduct, repetition, etc. There is none of that here. As I said above, Morrison's shoddy prose can stand by itself. It needs no pictorial accompaniment to function, to complete McCloud's latter three conditions. Is Issue #633 a comic then? No. Definition number 3, c'mon down!...

R. C. Harvey (2001) "...Comics consist of pictorial narratives or expositions in which words (often lettered into the picture area within speech balloons) usually contribute to the meaning of the pictures and vice versa."

Now we're getting somewhere. Here in Harvey's definition we have a slight hint at hierarchy, more specifically the lack of hierarchy between words and picture. Both inform one another, and it is the interesting and unexpected ways that they do so which make particular comics 'ground-breaking' or canonical. I have a feeling, okay, I know for a fact, that Morrison is trying to do something new here. But by Harvey's standards he is completely unsuccessful. He has outstepped the bounds of the genre. Issue #663 a comic? A resounding no. last but not least...

Eddie Campbell (2001) "the term graphic storytelling is defined as "the art of using pictures in sequence and its attendant language of forms and techniques, refined over many centuries."

Eddie clearly preferences pictures to words. Partly because Harvey's definition completely excludes the fact that wordless comics exist. Damn good ones in fact. So Pictures occupy the highground, with words lending 'attendant' meaning. Issue #633, survey says! No.

I'm afraid the dread might of wikipedia has forced my hand. I am sad that I must give the lowest possible grade to Morrison's literary experiment (or as it is more popularly known, Batman #663). And it's not just because it fails as a comic. Morrison's prose is bad. Every four sentences or so he hits the mark, something unexpected happens, a delightfully anarchic metaphor works, but most of his sentences are over or underwrought. If he's going for stream of hallucination/consciousness he needs to push things even further. Maybe he tried and DC reigned him back. I dunno. But he ends up in some no-man's land, a middle ground that is unexciting and banal. If i want to read up on the New Wierd I'll find me some Meiville who accomplishes much of what Morrison wants to by using sentences that actually function as sentences and aren't always trying mutate and burst through the cocoon of the English language.

Van Fleet's art (and notice that at the top of the page i have his credit in parentheses, because they are indeed an afterthought) is horrible. It smacks of Resident Evil video game-ness and is sterile, stiff and generally boring. I'm going to go easy on the art though since it obviously wasn't the focal point of this issue. Van Fleet most likely did the best with what he was afforded. So yes, Morrison takes the fall for the poor art as well. Just about the only thing I can say that is good in any way about this issue was that it was a complete and utter failure which, unlike what you might think, is not as bad as a partial failure. Morrison went balls out with this and for that I have to give him a meager amount of credit. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go try and get that half hour of my life that i wasted reading this back.

Rating: "Joe Camel" as in kids should stay away because this shit will give them cancer.

Birds of Prey #102

Writer: Gail Simone
Pencils: Nicola Scott
Colors: Hi-Fi
Letterer: Rob Leigh

I guess January was National Transition Month for comics. Seems like half the comics I read were set-up issues of some sort, either getting a new arc going or moving a few other threads ahead. The problem is that only a few of them managed to be particularly interesting. I already popped off about Aquaman, but today I'll be tackling Birds of Prey.

I will start off, though, with what this issue does very well, which is demonstrate the strength and power of the women in the DC Universe. Not only that, but it also plays up very nicely the variety of those women; from political persuasions (Spy Smasher to Huntress) to reactions in dangerous situations (Misfit to Barda), each woman featured has some sort of choice, some way of effecting the overall outcome. The terror evoked by Lois Lane's snooping around you for a story is fantastically put across in one panel as Oracle thinks, "I'd rather face the Joker. He's been known to give up on occasion." (The thought panels generally are very nicely done, giving each discrete thought it's own place and providing a look at the manner in which the characters think and process.) This might be a questionable line as the Joker is the man who paralyzed her, but it does emphasize Oracle's movement from the physical superhero into the master strategist and what it is she fears now: exposure (and, just by way of exposition, Oracle is Barbara Gordon, formerly Batgirl, who was paralyzed from the waist down by the Joker back in the day). But back to the main point, this series on the whole has done yeoman's service in fleshing out (hmm...Power Woman?) the possible roles of women in the DCU and this issue specifically expands on that with the injection of Lois Lane into the arc.

Generally speaking I enjoy Gail Simone's writing. She is certainly one of the more humorous writers around, with her particular style invoking an engaging blend of wit and double meanings. So far in Birds of Prey she has managed to keep the humor at the right level, allowing it to infuse a kind of authenticity to the dialogue without making the books one long yuk-yuk joke.

That said, Oracle and Lois Lane's conversation just did not quite work for me. Maybe it was Oracle's out-and-out hostility, maybe it was the notion that Lois Lane had no clue who Oracle was (I mean, c'mon, is Superman really that kind of a jackass?), but something, somewhere was throwing everything off. Unfortunately this applies to a good deal of the issue, the sense that there is something a bit off. From the odd melodramatic line to scenes that appear to be taking place side by side that the reader knows cannot possibly be taking place simultaneously, the issue tries to cover a lot of ground, though in something of a haphazard manner.

Certain actions taken by the characters also seem a bit discordant. At one point Barda throws a car at some of the Feds firing down at her from a catwalk. While that's not a bad way to get rid of them, there were non-combatants in the backseat. Is this Barda not thinking and grabbing the nearest thing at hand (and it is fairly cool when you can just sorta toss a car at your enemies, especially if it were a Pinto), or are we left to assume there was some other car in the warehouse...that we hadn't seen before in this rather tight space? Also, Oracle's plan to threaten Lois Lane by outing Clark as Superman I just don't buy. For one thing, Lane would probably perceive it as a bluff and for another what little I do know about Oracle mandates that she isn't going to totally screw over one of the planet's more important defenders just so others can go down with her. The simple point is that for a bluff to work the mark has to be willing to believe it. This all feels a bit too much like Oracle has to have everything covered 'cause she's cool like that or something. Again, these are missteps, but the overall tone of the issue is such that they come across as necessary missteps on the way towards the arc's conclusion.

The art in the series thus far has been perfectly fine and functional. If there is a criticism to be made it would probably be just that: it is fine and functional. It ain't gonna knock your socks off and it surely isn't going to be the engine for a weaker story. A nice distinction does exist between those who are superheroes or something more than ordinary (it's nice to see "Miguel the Metahuman," for instance, described as a metahuman considering his impossible physique, instead of just some 'roid ranger) and those who are just human. I don't much like Lois Lane's nose – there's something distracting about it – but other than that there is not anything really rotten in Metropolis. The same can be said for the coloring as it doesn't make the comic and doesn't break it either.

The thing is that I do enjoy this comic; it's just not at the top of the list. It's a fine series with an interesting premise and a very solid creative team, but this just happens to be kind of a blah issue. I do feel there are some problems (pacing, character decisions, etc.) that would earn a lesser comic a worse rating, but the book's conceit is strong enough and the team capable enough that even a boring and seemingly overly-drawn out issue remains reasonably middle of the pack.

Ranking: Gimli 'cause it's solid enough, just not leading lady-esque.

Fables #57

Title: Fables #57
Writer/Creator: Bill Willingham
Guest Artist: Michael Allred

"Not a bad effort, but Willingham has the unfortunate responsibility of living up to his best story arcs each and every month." Jesse (ign dot com)

Um Jesse? C'mere a minute. I'd like to take you aside and talk to you. For just a second. You see you are wrong... on two accounts. Now don't misunderstand me. I think the job you and your colleagues are doing on that other website is just fine, great even, but your reviews always leave me wanting more. Here at Cerberus our m.o. has become the in-depth, extended single issue review. And while we may not cover the same variety of ground as you guys, what ground we do cover will be combed clean. Now back to the point at hand. You're wrong.

a) Willingham has indeed ascended to a lofty perch in comicbook royalty. Yet up on high he is not unassailable. He has produced a few stinkers and some pedestrian arcs--he is human after all. The World War II, Frankenstein v. the Wolfman arc particularly rankled me as a 'hehe, hey guys, what if we have Bigby, you know, fighting the nazis and guess what they are up to, hehe,' fanboy-esque interesting-as-an-idea, kinda-crappy-made-manifest plot-line. Not everything the man produces will be gold. This may sound a bit strange but if Willingham were infalible Fables would get... boring. And Fables has been anything but boring during the entire length of mighty run.

b) "Not a bad effort." Really? 'Cause I thought it was pretty damn fine. Subtly brilliant. Wonderful character piece that Willingham has kicked my ass with a couple dozen times during the past few years. Boy, I do love me some good forgotten son/absent father drama. Bigby and "Mr. North" finally meet and things don't play out quite as i expected. The past isn't forgiven and the future is nothing if not up for grabs; a delicate detente seems to settle between these two blow-hards. And through it all Snow (and the cubs) are the glue that holds everything together. Bigby, you done well for yourself in the female arena. And how could the fucking North Wind not have a soft spot for a lady named Snow?

Jesse, you still there? Okay, I'll grant you just about everything you said about the art is accurate. Fables has been lacking in the art department ever since day one. But so did the Sandman and after a while the signature raw/unpolished style became synonomous with Dream, the art never overpowered the idea, and in the end made the comic even stronger. Fables too suffers from artwork which may not be up to snuff with the writing. The penciling looks particularly bad compared to the series award winning coverwork. Yet James Jean can't draw the covers and do the interiors after all. Speaking of James Genius, goddam if that's not another terrific cover. Your eyes zero right in on one of the cubs taking off and you zoom around the page in a counterclock-wise circle following the other cubs (and the individual letters that make up the f.a.b.l.e.s title) as they swirl around their parents on invisible gusts until our eyes are drawn back to the top of the page looking at Bigby, who is shrouded and sullen but with his hand firmly wrapped around Snow, and it is Snow who we turn the page with, Snow whose quiet beauty has been masterfully depcected on so many Jean covers.

The next page is another story. Allred's art is visually subdued. Everything seems tinted a shade or three too dark. Where I'm imagining bright blinding fields of snow and ice I get alot of blues and grays. I think the individual character sketches are fine, sure the older 'no mouth' version of Bigby was starting to grow on me but Allred's version is not all that of a departure. All in all the art holds together and the story is fantastic. I give it a Snake-eyes... a stone's throw from a Volty.

Aquaman: Sword of Atlantis #48

Writer: Kurt Busiek
Pencils: Ricardo Villagran
Colors: Dan Brown
Letters: Todd Klein

For those not in the know, Kurt Busiek has helmed a new take on Aquaman since the “One Year Later” approach kicked in late last spring. He has introduced a new character as Aquaman – a kid named Arthur Curry who just happens to be related to the old Aquaman and, due to his mother dying from complications and his being dangerously premature, was injected with a serum that allowed him to live in the water, thus surviving and developing certain superhuman abilities. Following the destruction of his father's lab during a hurricane, young Arthur finds himself in the midst of underwater upheaval and eventually chooses to restore order to the undersea kingdoms. What we now have is a high fantasy, sword-and-sorcery adventure tale, complete with quests and mysterious destinies. Enemies will become allies, fates will be revealed and mermaids will be slept with: ya gotta love Busiek.

Thus far he's done a wonderful job of establishing the variety of races that comprise the ocean's plains and ranges and the lawlessness that has taken root since Atlantis' destruction and the disappearance of the former Aquaman. This provides for any number of stories as we follow young Arthur in his quest to take on a mantle thrust upon him. We are now past his introduction to the undersea world and following him on his first quest, involving a slightly modified old enemy of the original Aquaman. This particular issue is mostly set-up with some character development achieved via Arthur's explanation of his fears regarding people placing their trust in him. I'm making it sound pretty boring and that is mostly because, well, it is. We are offered more insight into who Arthur is and what drives him, but it is not exactly like this is page-turning material. I get the feeling that everything in here will matter later – certainly in the next issue and in all likelihood beyond that – but that doesn't quite do it for me on a single issue note. Even the retooling of a classic Aquaman villain doesn't do much more than pose questions here, and not exactly the questions you need answered right now. Sure, a threat is present, but given how little we know about said threat there is no way to know how concerned we ought to be. This feels like one of those occasionally necessary ho-hum issues that gets you to where you need to go next.

This issue also sees an artist change, with Ricardo Villagran taking over penciling duties from Butch Guice (don't even think about asking me how to pronounce his last name). Guice did still draw the cover and I think it provides a pretty clear illustration of a few of the problems I had with the art throughout this issue. With Guice a rougher quality marks the work; the effect very much simulates seeing things in murky or dark, brackish water. Also, each character, while possessing a distinctive design, is somewhat sketchy in his/her overall appearance. Consequently there is almost a woodcut look to each panel, rather reinforcing the fantasy overtones of the book. As a final point, characters' hair (those with hair or something somewhat similar to it anyways) moves all over the place in the water's currents; one half expects Aquaman to be blinded in battle every other panel by some sudden eddy along a reef. Overall, the impact of his drawing style is subtle, as it sets the mood without overpowering the viewer and gives the book a very specific feel. I provide this much detail about Guice's artwork and point to his cover design as an example because I am not at all impressed by Villagran's work.

Villagran maintains a similar sketchiness to the art, yet it feels somehow too specific. We have a pretty clean view of pretty much every character in any given panel, leaving little room for mystery. What Guice did so well and Villagran does not at all is forcing the reader/viewer to fill in the blanks herself, to kick the imagination into overdrive; this for me is where the art seriously assists the fantastic elements of the story. Aquaman, King Shark and the Dweller of the Depths have maintained, until now, a larger-than-life appearance; they stride across the pages by way of tight close-ups and epic sweeps; here they just look small in a monstrous landscape, but not in a particularly effective way. Similarly, Aquaman's looks like it's gelled pretty heavily along the part, with the wings flowing about but in a rather set-piece manner. On a final note, Villagran consistently shows the Dweller's left arm...and it's solid. We know at this point that the Dweller is the old Aquaman somehow transformed with half his body now a mystical water; and by half I mean the left half. That's the whole point of him wearing that weird looking cloak: to hide his most identifying feature from view. Why then would an artist draw something that so blatantly flies in the face of a major plot point? For that matter, why did no one stop him? It's just really irritating.

Before wrapping up I would like to comment on the lettering in this issue and every other issue thus far. Aquaman has been very fortunate to have Todd Klein manning those duties as he is, from what I can tell, the best in the business (Wikipedia him if you need further education on this point). He certainly does a fantastic job of creating different moods and textures for the various characters and settings. In particular the font differences among Arthur, the Dweller and King Shark certainly gives the impression each is speaking in a very different manner. King Shark is gruff, declarative and menacing in his speech while Arthur seems to sound like just about everyone else, both above and below the water. The Dweller, on the other hand, comes across as refined and perhaps a bit removed in his manner – he may even have an accent that separates him from the plebes – as designated very well by his being the only character whose comments are both in the upper and lower cases. It's hard for me to really get into what makes a good letterer given my own general ignorance on the topic, but Klein certainly assists the storytelling with the attention to detail and intricate nature of his work.

Overall I would have to say that I'm probably with this series for a long haul (though with Busiek leaving soon and Tad Williams taking over; we'll see how long I last after that). Much like Johns' work with The Flash a few years back, Busiek has taken one of the upper second tier heroes in the DC Universe and pumped life back into his story. The fact that he hasn't ditched the original completely in this revamp and has even woven his story into his successor's is not only admirable but impressive. Regarding this issue though, my feelings remain lukewarm. It isn't good and it isn't bad: it just doesn't feel like much more than a set-up for the next issue.

Ranking: Gimli because I could probably explain it to you in ten seconds and you'll be all set for the proverbial shit-fan interaction coming our way in #49.

^^^^ wondering what this ranking means? ^^^^

X-men #195

X-men #195
Writer: Mike Carey
Pencils: Humberto Ramos

I get it. Mike Carey is an idea man. As in chock full o'. He also has a rather flagrant crush on putting well-known villians in the somewhat unfamiliar role as heroes. Not that he has these villians always act like heroes mind you, just that they appear in the void where a hero should be with startling frequency. It doesn't get much more villainous than the Prince of Darkness himself, and it is Lucifer (through Gaiman) which made Carey a household comicbook name. Lucifer has always struck me as much more of an idea piece rather than a functional comic. What I mean by this is that Lucifer served Gaiman well, animating his protagonist Morpheus and providing some pretty breath-taking moments (Dear Neil, You had me at "A Hope in Hell"). Just as Jack animates Bigby (and others) in Fables. Yet when you send characters such as these out on their lonesome, a certain something is lost. Of course Carey had enough ideas to propel his dark knight through 75 issues, an enviable run for any series.

And now we find Carey taking the reigns of Xavier's X-men with all of his various tics and trademarks on display. Who does he select as team leader? Hint: Her very name is synonomous with dishonesty and mischief. Not that Rogue is a particularly devious customer. But oh what a team Carey has her leading. Lady Mastermind, Cannonball, Sabretooth, Iceman, Mystique, and Cable: virtually every frame of Carey's story features some former baddy turned reluctant goody. It certainly keeps things interesting. Personally, I am waiting for one of these 'heroes' to snap. And it will happen. My money's on... but i digress.

It has become increasingly apparent that Carey does not need the villain-as-hero gimmick to carry his X-men franchise. As I said before, the man has ideas. Catering to an ensemble comic like X-men truly plays to Carey's strengths. During his first story arc "Supernovas" the reader is blistered by a plot that juggles a fistful of feldgling story-lines, any one of which would have been enough to fuel most series. Suffice to say, many of those strands remain active in the new three-part arc "Primary Infection." And for the remaining portion of this review I'll focus on the swing issue of that series, #195. I'll be judging it on its own merits which as you can see by the thoughts above, may be a little unfair. But this isn't a trade review, nor has it been released as such... yet. If these little 32 page nuggets are going to be released as individual issues, they'd best have feet to stand on. And the verdict?

Decidedly mixed. Writing aside, the visuals pop even if Ramos is at times violently inconsistent in his drawing style. There is a sort of dynamicism there that works well with kinetic characters like Iceman and Cannonball but call me crazy if I'd like other characters drawn uniformally throughout a single issue. Lady Mastermind in particular seems all over the map. She is quite stunningly rendered when seen from afar or in a mixed group. Ramos is an unabashed fan of the female form, of this there is no doubt. But when we zoom in on Mastermind for dramatic emphasis her thin whip-cord thin frame becomes overwhelming, almost hulking. A certain level of detail is lost as well. Long story short, keep your charcters in the middleground Humberto! When positioned there the man has few peers in comic art.

Its hard to analyze a story which has yet to be completed. Yes, there are more questions raised. And to be fair a few answers delivered. A dangerous villain is (re)introduced and it looks as if he might actually hang around a while. As a swing issue we begin in the lurch and end... in the lurch. Yet stories can function like this, think Jackson's Two Towers, tho the man did have 3 + hours to pull that off. Carey just packs as much as he can into a pretty tight space and the results are what you might expect. An excellent dish with a half dozen too many overpowering spices. I think everything inside is essential, it just might be months until it gets sufficiently unpacked. Welcome to Mike Carey 101.

Rating: Somewhere between a Lando and a Snake-eyes, but leaning toward the latter
^^^^ wondering what this ranking means? ^^^^