Category: Comics

I hadn’t thought so. But then I had to go out and buy the snazzy new Animal Man action figure. And then I had to go and do this:


Does anyone know where I can find a Lex Luthor figure that kind of looks like Grant Morrison? Although Morrison with hair looked like a not-quite-so-gothy Sandman, so maybe I can work something out there…

Is there a more perfect comic book woman than Kim Pine?

Clearly not. She could totally kick Power Girl’s ass, too. Well, if there were a sarcasm and dry wit competition.

Bryan O’Malley’s The Wonderful World of Kim Pine was easily the highlight of Comics Festival, the Free Comic Book Day offering of the Toronto Comic Art Festival. It had some pretty stiff competition, too: Short strips by Darwyn Cooke, Cameron Stewart, Steve Rolston, Kean Soo, Hope Larson, and Chip Zdarsky. Oh, and a special episode of Dinosaur Comics! Indeed, it all rocked quite a bit.

But is there anything better than a Kim Pine solo story? I just don’t think that would be possible.

(Just in case you missed the 2005 edition of Comics Festival, due to being in Antarctica or having a crummy comic shop in your area, it’s now online. Pretty spiffy, no?)

It seems vaguely odd to be writing a second post critiquing a column with which I generally agreee, but here we are anyway. (It’s probaby because something I completely disagree with can be more easily ignored, while “I agree, but…” provides a more interesting topic. I’m not a debater, I’m a quibbler.)

The general arguments that 1) people on the internet are overreactive ninnies, and 2) writers should be sensitive to others and observe the world around them, are perfectly sensible positions. The column gets a bit distracted, however, when it veers into the topic of censorship and what role it should (or, more relevantly, should not) play in comic books:

Content for adults is virtually impossible to create when you have a censor filtering out all adult content, because censorship encourages lazy art and writing. Content for adults can only be made by a thinking creator.

The second statement is completely true, but the first part doesn’t have much to do with anything.

Censorship has played a huge role in the development of commercial entertainment. Just look at The Hays Code which governed motion pictures, or the more familiar Comics Code. It’s difficult to argue that either of these bodies was a good thing, but it’s also impossible to deny the body of legimitately adult work that was produced under them.

In many ways, censorship forces creators to think: If you can’t show blood or sex, you have to find other ways to communicate those actions. If political commentary is off-limits, you have to hide it in metaphor and allegory. Jokes for adults can be buried within jokes for children.

It’s also worth remembering that anyone working on Big Two superhero comics is already faced with a brand of censorship: Corporate Editorial can veto just about anything, from plot direction to dialogue choices. This isn’t censorship in the tradional sense, but it’s nonetheless an significant force imposing its wishes on the writer.

If you’ve read this blog more than once or twice, you’re probably aware that I’m not seriously advocating the merits of censorship. But here we come back to the part of the column which which I have no disagreements: “Content for adults can only be made by a thinking creator.” I’d even add that quality content for any audience can only be made by a thinking creator. And that thinking creator is going to find a way to tell his or her stories regardless of exterior forces. The lazy writer is always going to take the easy way out: He’ll play by the censor’s rules because he doesn’t want to make waves, and when he’s free from those chains he’ll heap on explicit content because that’s the only way he knows to tell a story. The lazy writer will give you clichés and stereotypes and predictable plot twists whether he’s writing for Johnny DC or Avatar.

When Grant Morrison, to pick an example, is on his game, he can do whatever the heck he wants. He can give you an explicitly adult book like WE3 or The Invisibles, and in the same month he can give you mature and intelligent stories couched in fantasy like Vimanarama or Animal Man. (I wanted to make the bold point that Animal Man was published under the Code, but alas, it wasn’t. Still, there’s relatively little explicit content that book; it even crossed over with the code-approved Justice League Europe. In a similar vein, I’m mystified that Vertigo automatically slaps “Mature Readers” labels on all their books, even if that book happens to be Seaguy, Stardust, or The Little Endless Storybook. That’s just weird.)

Neither censorship nor pure, unadulterated artistic freedom are a guarantee of diversity, sensitivity, maturity, or, most importantly, good writing. What may be the real point of the article – that irate internet users’ cries for/against censorship distract attention from real debates – is quite true, but the column fell into a similar trap. Because, really, no sensible person wants censorship, and none of those who do understand much of anything about the creative process. That conversation is a meaningless sideshow that doesn’t have much to do with anything.

(And, apparently, provides a backdoor for nitpicking otherwise perfectly reasonable columns to death.)

It has come to my attention that some people aren’t reading Blue Beetle. This is clearly unacceptable, and must be remedied. Now, I’ll grant some of the would-be detractors a couple of points:

• Countdown was a wretched story, and DC’s continuing slaughter and/or general fucking up of the Superbuddies is stupid.
• The first six issues of Blue Beetle were slow, underwhelming, and featured some fill-in art that really wasn’t up to snuff.

But while DC’s treatment of their lighter heroes is discouraging, the new Blue Beetle is exactly the sort of book many fans lament these days. And this book took a big step up with #7, and has been on another level entirely since John Rogers took over as solo writer. It also helps that Rafael Albuquerque doesn’t seem to have any problems with monthly deadlines; indeed, the only problem with the up-and-comer is that he’s so good, I’m afraid DC is going to want to put him on one of their higher profile books soon.

So, that out of the way: Let me show you what you’re missing if you’re not reading Blue Beetle, courtesy of issue number fourteen:

Misunderstandings between Superheroes!

Strong parenting techniques!

Snappy narration!

Robot Attack Penguins!

In case I haven’t been clear: Blue Beetle is everything I love about superhero comics. It’s fun, funny, and creative. It has a great supporting cast. It’s got expressive and stylish art. It even integrates itself into the DC universe effectively, using characters and history that add to the book, instead of miring it in continuity and crossovers. That last one might be the highest compliment of all, coming from me, but here’s another along the same lines: This new Blue Beetle would have been a perfect fit for the old Justice League International.

DC might not be on a hot streak right now, but they’re doing a heck of a good job with Blue Beetle. Don’t let it go unnoticed: If you love superheroes, you should be reading this book.

Posts like this always leave me feeling conflicted.

On the one hand, it’s impossible to deny that the treatment and portrayal of women in Marvel and DC superhero books ranges from the clueless to the chauvinistic to the downright misogynistic. Even I, the white heterosexual male, point it out from time; when someone acts like an ass, they need to be called on it. And it’s hard to tell someone that they should ignore sexism without sounding like a complete fuckwit.

But. (And obviously there’s a “but”, because otherwise I never would have said I was conflicted in the first paragraph.)

My doubts come into play with this paragraph:

“These stories are escapism. We all come to these stories to relax. Everyone opens a comic book hoping for a quick cheap thrill, a few laughs, maybe some unrealistic over-the-top violence, or to check on old friends (so to speak). Readers want a way to forget about life for a while.”

Well, no. That may be why most people read superhero comics, though of course we can’t ignore the disturbingly common raison d’etre of “continuity addict” and “completist.”

I don’t generally read ACME Novelty Library, Optic Nerve, or Queen & Country for escapism. Blue Beetle is definitely escapism, as is All-Star Superman, but even something like Seven Soldiers offers more than a few cheap thrills.

It comes up periodically on a few blogs and forums that far too many people say “comics” but in fact mean “superhero comics.” More specifically, they mean “Marvel and DC superhero comics”, and, to be entirely specific “the Marvel and DC superhero books I read.”

One of the things that bothers me the most about superhero fandom is the utter inability to let go of things. You don’t have to browse Newsarama and CBR for very long before you come across someone who’s irate that Roy Thomas isn’t still writing Avengers, or convinced that Marvel has been on a long slide towards creative bankruptcy ever since Jim Shooter left.

I understand the sentiment. It can be hard to accept that something you used to love now sucks, or that (and this is more important) it’s simply not aimed at you any more. But for the life of me I can’t fathom the idea of throwing good money at bad product month after month. A bit of complaining when a title hits a rut is one thing, but continuing to follow something that makes you angry month after month strikes me as masochistic at best.

All of which is to say is that when someone says “comics should be like this“, what they really mean is “the comics I’m reading should be like this.” You’ve probably seen it, if you’ve spent much time on the web: Angry Fan says they want more fun, traditional comics; Happy Fan says “have you tried the Marvel Adventures books?”, to which Angry Fan say “Those are for kids. I’m not reading that.”

My rather roundabout point is that none of us are entitled to any sort of entertainment. Marvel, DC, and every other publisher are going to focus on the demographic that makes them the most money, and if you’re not in that demographic you’re out of luck. Me, I want superhero books that aren’t mired in continuity and plagued by crossovers; I want publishers to give Peter Milligan carte blanche to do whatever crazy stuff he wants; I want creativity and a sense of humour to accompany these pulp deities in spandex. I also want books that aren’t about superheroes at all: science fiction and fantasy and mystery and comedy.

Alas, it sucks to be me. Well, it doesn’t really – I just have to look further than the Big Two for my sequential storytelling needs. Thankfully I’ve got an awesome comic book store in my town, so actually I get by pretty well; frankly, my bank account would be happier if I had a harder time finding comics that interested me. I can complain about Civil This and Infinite That, but I’d rather just read All-Star Superman and Scott Pilgrim.

So coming back to my point: There are many, many comic books out there that make more of an effort to appeal to female readers. (Or – lest I be accused of not knowing what female readers want, which is a distinct possibility – at least aren’t targeted exclusively at the white, straight male demographic) Indeed, there are plenty of comic books written and drawn by women. There just aren’t very many published by Marvel and DC. (And no, that’s not a blanket “Go read manga” or “you know Neil Gaiman, right?”) You can find almost anything you want in comics – sometimes you just have to look a little harder.

At some point, you have to balance your crusades (in my case, it’s artistic integrity over faceless commercialism) with the reality of banging your head against the wall and railing against a corporation that doesn’t care if it gets your money or not. (Obviously they care, but not if it means losing sales from their primary sales base.)

There are plenty of things Marvel and DC could do better that might bring them bigger audiences, but if they’re not interested, they’re not interested. They know where their cash flow is coming from, and that’s going to receive the majority of their attention. They’re dealing in the marketplace of ideas (inasmuch as “who can we kill next?” is an idea), and that marketplace is saying “we want what you’ve got and don’t care about that other stuff.” Just as there’s no right to the entertainment we want, there’s no compulsion for a corporation to change a sales tactic that works. (outside of actively discriminating against people) It seems far more productive to reward the publishers who do the things you want instead of complaining about the ones who don’t.

Ultimately, I think we’re all much happier when we ignore Mark Millar and Michael Turner.

There seems to be some small amount of panic regarding DC’s recent sales numbers. They’re not terribly encouraging of course – 52 is their only regular, reliable hit, with most of their other top sellers shipping bi-monthly or even more sporadically.

I can’t argue with the notion that they’ve launched entirely too many books in the last year or two, most of which lack any sort of original voice. On the one hand, DC should, and probably will, look at culling the severe underperfomers. But then again, it’s not like 20,000 readers will stop buying Checkmate and sink their dollars into Justice League – odds are the people who buy Checkmate are probably sinking plenty of dollars into DC Continuity every month, anyway. And The Atom isn’t hoarding a top-notch creative team that could keep Batman at the top of the sales charts. I’m sure DC will be sorting these things out, but I can’t say I care terribly, as long as they stay the hell away from Blue Beetle.

There’s also the distinct possibility that 52 is sucking up whatever dollars fans have that might otherwise be used on new titles; maybe people can’t afford to try new books when they have to get their weekly dose of the book that’s absolutely totally essential to understanding the DC universe. But if that’s a problem, DC certainly hasn’t clued in, as they’ve lined up Countdown to take over. How that title will perform without the big guns of Morrison, Rucka, Waid, and Johns as draws remains to be seen, but I suspect DC is in for an unpleasant surprise.

DC was probably counting on the big Wildstorm revamp to bring in some cash, but that obviously hasn’t gone according to plan: The scheduling vortex that sucked in Authority and Wildcats has tainted the line to the extent that online fandom is awash in statements of “Wildstorm is a joke!” despite the fact that 5 of the 7 relaunch titles have delivered more-or-less on time. But perhaps that doesn’t really matter: Sales on the second-tier books weren’t terribly impressive to begin with, and most of them debuted with variant covers. The problem here, I think, is that mainstream, direct market fans simply aren’t interested in other superhero books; they want their Spider-Man and Batman, and aren’t going to bother with Wildstorm’s ever-so-slightly-mature line of c-list heroes unless they’re being driven by all-star creators. They’re profitable enough books for Image, but they don’t appear to meet DC’s standards.

But ultimately, I wonder if DC isn’t right where they’re meant to be. For most of my recollection, Marvel has ruled the monthly sales charts. DC got some shots in with the death of Superman, and Image had their time in the sun, but it almost always come back to Marvel.

Marvel has proven itself to be the master of The Now. They find or grab all the hot new artists, and pick up on the trends that will sell books. DC, on the other hand, has always remained largely traditional – their big properties (Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman) have reputations as being stodgy and cardboard, perhaps a necessary result of protecting such immensely valuable trademarks. For many years, their most notable characters were steered by good-yet-unimaginative creative teams.

But behind that stereotype lies an entirely different company. For all the talk of Marvel’s innovation and market driving, it’s DC that published Watchmen, Dark Knight, Swamp Thing, Sandman, and others. DC has far more perennial sellers than Marvel. There are few Marvel books of 20 years ago that remain relevant or popular. Miller’s Daredevil, maybe Squadron Supreme and the Claremont/Byrne X-Men.

While I have no doubt Civil War will sell plenty of copies when the TPB debuts, I can’t imagine it being an industry standard in five years, if Marvel even keeps it in print that long. Of their current crop only Daredevil, and maybe Captain America, looks like it has long-term potential. Perhaps Nextwave, but that’s probably just wishful thinking on my part. (I have no idea how Neil Gaiman’s recent Marvel projects will look in a few years) On the other hand, I can see several recent books that have a potentially long shelf life at DC: All-Star Superman, Jeff Smith’s Shazam, New Frontier, Justice, perhaps even Seven Soldiers. That’s not even getting into the Vertigo books, though who knows which of the current crop will survive. (100 Bullets is probably the best bet; I love Y, but I’m not sure how it will hold up.)

DC doesn’t always put its best foot forward, but that foot usually makes the company enough money to keep the good stuff going. Marvel may take the monthly market 10 months of the year, but DC is the company with the big Alan Moore catalogue, Vertigo, and many of the books people will point to and say “see, this is what comics can do.” For all the talk of innovation, Marvel hasn’t really done anything new since the days of Claremont & Byrne and Frank Miller, with a minor yet exciting hiccup in the post-bankruptcy years. (Milligan & Allred’s X-Force and Bendis & Gaydos’ Alias are among my favourite books ever published by anyone)

All of which is to say that in 10 years, nobody is going to care who sold more issues in February of 2007. But I’m going to look at my bookshelf, or the graphic novel section of a book store, and see who came out ahead. No matter how many times DC relaunches and cancels The Atom and Firestorm, their successes eventually speak louder than their failures. And since I’m more interested in art than publisher finances, that’s all that should really matter.

Behold the DC July solicits. There’s some promising stuff coming out, including some creators who’ve been MIA for too long.

Faker #1: Mike Carey? Check. Jock? Check. “Chock full of ruthless characters with hidden agendas, FAKER takes place during freshman year in college; the ultimate time of reinvention, where, if you’re up for it, you can lie, cheat and fake your way through almost anything”? I’m completely and utterly sold, and have been ever since this series was announced late last year.

The Programme #1: Peter Milligan returns to the sort of (presumably) creator-owned book where he can do his own thing. It sounds quite promising, and features a nifty cover by C.P. Smith, but I have to admit to being worried about this project: Milligan is never a top seller, Wildstorm is having trouble selling books, and the last Soviet-themed book, The Wintermen, sold dismally enough to be semi-cancelled and retooled before being completed.

Batman #668: At last, this might be the Batman book I’ve been waiting for. I wasn’t terribly impressed with Grant Morrison’s run on the book, but I’d attribute that largely to the art by Andy Kubert, who’s just too Image-Nineties for my tastes. But this is the second issue in a row to be drawn by J.H. Williams, who did a very nice issue of Detective Comics before getting called back to Seven Soldiers. I doubt we’ll see more than a handful of issues of Batman with this stellar team, but we should enjoy it while we can.

Green Arrow: Year One #1: I’d say that July is Jock Month at DC, but that might bring up the wrong mental image. Anyway: In addition to Faker, action artist extraordinaire Jock reunites with Losers writer Andy Diggle for a story about a rich guy stranded on an island who learns to shoot a bow. Hell yeah. (Jock also turns in another nice cover for the latest issue of Scalped.)

JLA #11: I’ve got little-to-no interest in DC’s primary line of superhero books, but this may be an exception as Gene Ha abandons the sinking Authority ship to do an issue of one of DC’s flagships. I’m not much of a fan of Brad Meltzer, but Ha’s work is always top notch. The one down side: Unless I want to pay $10-15 for Ha’s variant cover, I will have to buy a book with a Michael Turner cover. Dilemma: Do I buy a variant, or do I actually tear the cover off a new book I just bought?

Alan Moore: The Complete WildC.A.T.S TP: I’ve never read this stuff, produced by Moore while I was taking a break from comics. Probably among Moore’s lesser works and WildCATS better stories, I’ll probably take a look at least.

A few other random observations:

• Wildstorm’s relaunch appears to be disintegrating rapidly. Wildcats and Authority are notoriously MIA, while most of the original creative teams are gradually moving elsewhere: Garth Ennis is replaced on Midnighter by Jimmy Palmiotti and Justin Gray, though they do manage to swing some Brian Stelfreeze pencils; Doug Mahnke is off Stormwatch; both Mike Carey and Whilce Portacio have left Wetworks. Gail Simone is still on her two books, and Deathblow maintains its original creative team, even though the bi-monthly schedule means they’ve only produced six issues. Sales were pretty disappointing with the A-list relaunch creators; is DC slowly pulling the plug?
• Were people really demanding an omnibus volume of The Death and Return of Superman? $75 (US) for comics by marketing and editorial committee?
• More corpses and sad superheroes! At least they’ve stopped fetishizing Mary Marvel.
• On the other hand, they do manage to skank up Catwoman and Supergirl for their statue line. Was there really a conversation in which someone suggested the woman in skintight leather and the teenager girl who flies around in a cheerleader skirt needed to be sexed up?
• Grant Morrison finally seems to be taking a break, with only one comic out this month (Batman).
• New Frontier action figures! Tres cool.
• I question the veracity of including “DC/Top Cow” and “Classics” in the same paragraph, let alone the same title.
• Showcase Presents: Adam Strange: I love the more obscure Showcase volumes DC has produced, and this one promises to meet all your ray-blasting needs:
  

So DC announces a Black Canary mini. I can’t say I’m interested, but whatever. What does interest me – and not in a good way – is the cover for #2:

Just look at that pose. It manages to combine all the worst attributes of “Look at my ass” cheesecake and “I’m going to punch you, the reader,” badass. (It’s true: There’s a whole lot of ass, both literal and figurative, on that cover) If you want to make Black Canary look tough, how about giving her a stance in which she could actually throw a punch with any force? Or, if you just want to be gratuitous about it and remind everyone that she’s a hot babe wearing fishnets, just abandon the pretense of her fighting anyone and trot out a real T&A pose.

I was going to swear off pointing out stupid covers like this, because hey, it’s just too easy. Note, for example, that I have not gone anywhere near a Michael Turner cover lately. But this stands out a bit more than usual, I think, because of another recent cover that made Black Canary look tough and hot at the same time without totally disregarding the laws of anatomy or physics:

Granted, plenty of artists will look sucky next to Adam Hughes. But that’s just about a perfect cover: It manages to convey the beautiful-but-deadly cliché with just the right mix of drama and silliness. That is what a Black Canary cover should look like. She’s tough and she can kick your ass without even trying, but it’s still a character who’s been wearing fishnet stockings while fighting crime for nearly 60 years.

Yes, it’s still a pinup of a hot blonde. But it’s a good pinup of a hot blonde. If we’re going to give in to objectification, let’s at least do it properly, shall we?