Author: Ryan

I didn’t see that coming.

Over the last year or so, during which time Scalped has made its way onto my essential reading list, Jason Aaron has given us murder, betrayal, manipulation, greed, revenge, violence, and general depravity and inhumanity. So one might not think there’s a lot left to shock readers with, but Aaron comes up with a good one: Hope.

The latest issue of Scalped is a standalone story about Officer Franklin Falls Down, the one good, honest cop on a crooked reservation. Falls Down is not having a good time lately: It’s bad enough trying to be a good cop when your boss is practically a gangster, but it got worse when he was shot in an ambush a few months ago. Oh, and it turns out his wife died in a car accident several years earlier.

So things are not good as Falls Down prepares to return to work, plagued by dreams and memories of the horrors he’s seen, in his own life and on the job. And the first day back starts off poorly, as a poorly-executed arrest results in Falls Down getting knocked out and having his gun stolen by the suspect. All of which leaves Falls Down wondering if he should call it quits.

It’s probably not much of a spoiler to reveal that he doesn’t, but the motivation, which comes in a vision, is one of the most beautiful and eloquent sequences I’ve read in a comic in some time. What keeps Falls Down going isn’t revenge or anger, but hope and faith.

“This is where life tried to crush me,” he says as he relives his wife’s death. “But it failed. … Beauty is all around us here. You jut have to fight for it.” Accompanied by some gorgeous art by guest artist Davide Furno, it’s a spectacular scene. I’ve been a big fan of Jason Aaron since The Other Side – heck, the guy writes a good Ghost Rider – but I didn’t know he was this good.

Aaron’s greatest accomplishment on Scalped has been the way he’s told the story from different points of view. Everyone is the hero of their own story, and Aaron gives everyone their own unique perspectives. Falls Down sees Dash Bad Horse, the main protagonist of the series, as a reckless punk. To Bad Horse, Chief Red Crow is a brutal thug, while Red Crow sees himself as, if not a hero, then at least a man with noble intentions. Aaron did this marvelously with Casino Boogie, the second story arc, and it’s good to see him continue. Scalped isn’t really a crime book, but an increasingly intricate character piece that executes well on the both the big and small scale.

And speaking of “I didn’t know he was that good”, check out Tim Bradstreet’s cover. Bradstreet’s a fine artist, but most of his covers have blended together – how many times do we really need to see the Punisher standing against a wall looking tough? But his work here, as well as on the next two Scalped covers, is far more diverse and interesting.

It seems like every five or six issues, Scalped takes a big step forward. While not abandoning the tone of the series, he’s given another character another angle, added another lens for viewing the series. It’s also a pretty self-contained story, an excellent sample for anyone who’s still not reading the book.

Courtesy of Jamie Smart and SLG, the people who brought us the very awesomely excellent Bear, we have the second issue of Ubu Bubu, the continuing story of a cat that’s been possessed by a demon and terrorizes small children when not indulging in mass slaughter. It’s a comedy.

I could try and review it, but there’s simply nothing I could say that would more accurately describe this book than the following image:

It is deliriously awesome and funny, and you should read it. I mean, if you find Nazis, demons, and the torture of small children funny. If not, you should probably stay away.

Six months or so after everyone read the final issue, I finally get to read the final volume of Y The Last Man.

Is this the Six Feet Under of comics? Not quite. But that final story packs a hell of a punch. Brian Vaughn comes perilously close to “Oh god, I’ve got to tie up every single theme in the entire series!”, but he manages to skirt the edges of it and pulls it off. It’s sad, and depressing, and heartbreaking, but also hopeful and optimistic.

And yes, I cried. I can admit it.

But a complaint: For all the talk of “writing for the trade”, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s doing “production for the trade.” Almost all of the Big Reveal pages and panels are on the right-hand page, meaning the big surprises are visible before you get to them. This is kind of annoying, and seems so easily preventable.

I may have more coherent thoughts on this later (though you probably know by now that whenever I say something like that, I never mention it again), but the short version? Y is a great book, and one I think will stand the test of time. And as much as I hate to see it end, it’s important that it does, and does so with style, humour, emotion, and drama.

Recently, Vertigo released First Cut, a low-cost collection of first issues of various series. This is the third such collection they’ve done, so the format must be somewhat successful. But unlike previous volumes, which included stuff like Y The Last Man and 100 Bullets, here’s the description for First Cut:

Sample the premiere issues of seven Vertigo series for under $5! Dip into the critically acclaimed series ARMY@LOVE, CROSSING MIDNIGHT, DMZ, THE EXTERMINATORS, JACK OF FABLES, LOVELESS and SCALPED, with stories by some of comics’ most popular writers and artists including Brian Wood, Bill Willingham, Brian Azzarello and many others. in this hefty low-priced volume.

All the bolded titles have been cancelled.And while, yes, each of the series has 3-4 trades available (and Army@Love is coming back for a second series, I believe), they are, in most cases, abbreviated versions of the stories the creators originally set out to tell.

So I have to wonder what the point is. Why not publish this book a year ago, before the recent wave of cancellations? Jump right into it as soon as there’s a trade or two for each series. I don’t know how many, if any, sales would have been gained, but there has to be more benefit in promoting series before they get cancelled.

All right, I’ve been neglectful lately. So let’s quickly talk about some comics I bought last week (which are from about the last month).

Final Crisis #1

I’m used to being somewhat confused or off-balance when reading Grant Morrison comics, but this is confusing in all the wrong ways. A New God meeting a caveman? Sure, that’s cool. A missing-children investigation uncovering a dead New God? Sounds all right to me. And then a bunch of villains running around, fighting someone, doing… something?

Then some different villains arguing at a table, and then… hey, where did Martian Manhunter come from? Ooh, that was shocking. Then back to the missing children case, which leads a detective to the Dark Side Club – I definitely approve, since it’s about the only reference to Seven Soldiers in the last two years.

And here are some Monitors. I don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t care. Then the caveman from the beginning meets Kamandi at the end of the world. Again, cool. And the last page is… some guy? Upset about something?

There’s “this is confusing because Grant has a plan”, and there’s “this is confusing because I haven’t read every comic published by DC in the last five years. I don’t know what happened in 52 or Countdown or whatever, and I don’t think I care much about this.

All-Star Superman #11

This, on the other hand, appears where the real Grant Morrison has gone. Lex Luthor escapes from prison by giving himself superpowers and allies himself with a sentient, killer sun? And he gives his niece the keys to the positronic cannon tank?

My god, yes.

Blue Beetle #27

I miss John Rogers. Will Pfeifer isn’t bad, but the story just doesn’t have the snap and crack Rogers’ work did. It’s the same problem I had with some earlier fill-in issues: Blue Beetle is, conceptually, such a generic book – teenager finds magic/science toy, becomes superhero, learns about powers, responsibility, and so on – that you need someone really good to make it work. Pfeifer gives us a nice story about Blue Beetle and Traci 13 investigating some mysterious demons, but it simply doesn’t rise above “nice story.” Traci isn’t nearly as awesome as she should be. Artist David Baldeon does some nice work, too, though he lacks Rafael Albuquerque’s edge. (Albuquerque’s cover: Pure Awesome.)

Madman #8

It hurts to say this, but I’m starting to lose my patience with this book. I love Mike Allred, and his art has never been better, but his writing isn’t strong enough to live up to his ambitions. Also, negative points for redundancy: The first half of the story is essentially a recap of Madman’s origin and history, which Allred just did in in #1. (Seriously: He’s developed maybe the best “previously!” page in the business. Where did his awesome sense of brevity go?) The second half is a story credited to “J.L. Allred”, a name I don’t recognize, with art by Nick Dragotta and Mike Allred. It’s… okay. It’s kind of silly, like the sort of story Madman used to be known for, but not as good. I presume there’s a new story arc starting up next issue, so maybe that will be a new leaf.

Northlanders #6

It’s hard to talk about this book, since it’s not fully digestible in single-issue format. Nevertheless, it gets better with every issue, and it’s shaping up to be a huge accomplishment for Brian Wood. I’ll try and say more about it when the first story arc is over.

Young Liars #3

The first two issue were good… and now I love it. David Lapham has gone kind of crazy, and it’s awesome. Let Sadie explain why:

“The Pinkertons aren’t private detectives. They’re Nazis injected with special powers by the Spiders from Mars… My Dad’s the richest man in the world, and he wants to impregnate me with Spider-Babies.”

I don’t know if it would be better if she’s telling the truth or she’s making it up.

Either way, this is some inspired lunacy. Also: Incredibly disturbing and creepy ending. Everyone read this book so it doesn’t get cancelled. (If you haven’t been reading it, this is a decent place to start.)

So DC is doing this big crossover thing? And a crazy Scottish guy is writing it? Maybe you heard?

Despite my general apathy towards event comics, Final Crisis actually looks pretty cool. Bridging the gap from the weekly Countdown to Final Crisis (exactly why it is DC needs more of a bridge from a 52-issue storyline is the subject of an entirely different post, I suspect), is DC Universe #0, which is released today. And apparently there’s a super-big, ultra-important revelation on the final page. If you don’t want to know what that is, don’t click that link, and you should probably stop reading now.

I think most people would consider me a pretty serious and knowledgeable and serious comic book fan. I spent most of my teenage years seriously addicted, and have been a serious reader for most of the last 7 or 8 years. And while it’s true my younger self was more interested in Marvel, and my current self doesn’t have a whole lot of interest in superhero continuity, I’ve still read a lot of books, and keep abreast of many happenings.

But here’s the thing: I’ve never read Crisis on Infinite Earths. Yes, yes, it’s the godfather of the modern event comic, and yes, it has George Perez drawing every DC character ever. But it just doesn’t appeal to me: I was 8 when it was published, and only reading a few Marvel comics at that time, so it has no sentimental appeal to me. I know it has something to do with setting DC continuity straight and sorting out all the multiple timelines and realities and characters contained within, which doesn’t really seem all that interesting to me. I’ve never been much of a George Perez fan, either.

But that’s okay. Everyone isn’t going to like everything. It’s just one book, and it was published over 20 years ago, so it’s not that big a deal, right?

Except not. Because yet again, DC seems to be going back to the Crisis well. I know there are already Monitors running around doing continuity things. And now DC seems intent on revisiting one of the major events from that series. And apparently, they expect me to care about it.

But I really don’t. It’s been twenty years since Crisis was published. It’s been twenty years since Barry Allen did anything of interest to anyone. I’m 31 years old, and I don’t give a damn if he comes back or not; are younger readers or those who aren’t already familiar with the intricacies of DC history, really supposed to find it exciting?

I’m not a fan of Marvel’s crossovers, either, but at least Joe Quesada and co. have come up with obvious, simple hooks for their events: Spider-Man Unmasks! Captain America Dead! Hulk Smash! It’s accessible and easy to explain to anyone with a very basic knowledge of comics.

But DC, on the other hand, seems to base all their events around “Hey, remember Crisis on Infinite Earths? That was pretty great, wasn’t it?” And if I didn’t care about Crisis the first time around, why would I care about the third or fourth reinterpretation? DC’s been having a tough time beating Marvel on the sales charts, and this has to be a reason why: Marvel wouldn’t be nearly so successful if all their crossovers were about the Beyonder coming back.

I’ll probably pick up the first issue of Final Crisis, but that’s largely due to my faith in Grant Morrison. While Morrison can make old characters and concepts seem exciting, other writers’ attempts at that sort of thing more often than not come off as nostalgic navel-gazing and fanboy dreaming. Which is fine here and there, but it’s not exactly the sort of thing you want to structure your entire company around.