Five By Five - Comics, week 4: Local

So the boy, in his infinite wisdom, has recently decided that we need to be more organised. For him, our current filing system of sticking paperwork down the side of the computer is lacking a certain level of razor sharp practicality, despite the hours of fun and hilarity when we need to find an important document quickly. And apparently, my adherence to the ‘mental’ shopping list school of thought is not enough to convince him of the inferiority of the paper and pen version.

I’ve been going along with his efficiency drive with a certain degree of reluctance to be honest, being at least a theoretical fan of creative mess, but he knows me well. And he’s found just the tool to drag me over to the administrative dark side.

The hardback graphic novel is a beautiful artefact and a welcome addition to any collection! 

Imagine if you will, a gleaming expanse of white, glistening in the September sunshine like a fresh fall of snow. Affixed to the wall like a window through which you might see pretty much anything, is our brand new whiteboard, complete with pens heady with the tang of planning and schedules and industrial strength solvents.

The thing is, it’s almost impossible to resist the allure of a clean slate. The chance to do things right this time around, mistakes rubbed out, virgin territory to shape after our own perfect visions.

It’s a desire that I can’t help but think Megan McKeenan, anti-heroine of graphic novel Local, might be rather familiar with. The story follows her through twelve years of fresh starts as she flits from city to city trying on identities for herself as often as Kate Moss changes her outfit.

Meet Megan, the perpetual runaway...

Megan is a perpetual runaway. And when the mistakes she makes tangle her current situation too much, she simply bails, ready to start again with a different picture. Each part of her twelve piece story stands in glorious isolation, yet the thread of her own true self ties it all together and anchors the narrative for us. In some pieces, she takes centre stage. In others she is little more than a bit part, peripheral to her own life.

But is it any good?

Well, yes actually.

Megan is an anti-heroine because of her quite startling capacity to fuck things up. She gropes blindly for human connection, sulking like a spurned child in a school playground when her erstwhile room-mate seemingly rejects her overtures of friendship, yet she also goes out of her way to sabotage the relationships that do come her way. Megan lies, bitches and self-obsesses her way through each frame. Yet, and you’re going to have to trust me on this one, she is still somehow likeable.

Trust me, she is still somehow likeable!

Maybe it’s because her mistakes are our mistakes, albeit in microsm. If you’ve ever been uncertain about what you want, treated a lover badly, or let your own problems blind you to other people’s then it’s pretty hard to judge Megan too harshly because she recognizes her shortcomings and keeps trying regardless. One of the most powerful vignettes of the book comes as Megan’s intermittent postcards to her young cousin float voice-over style as we witness his adolescent self-destruction. Her well intentioned advice is rendered meaningless in the face of the harsh realities of life; an uncompromising reminder than you can’t simply phone in love and support.

And as Megan keeps running, she slowly comes to realise that it isn’t just the weather that you take with you everywhere you go. Her problems pursue her, and so ultimately do the people she tries and fails to connect with. Things climax when all of the ghosts from her past catch up with her at once as she finally picks a place in which to stand, fight or fall.

In some pieces, she takes centre stage. In others she is little more than a bit part, peripheral to her own life.

On some levels, Local is a straightforward story about a young woman’s attempts to find her place in the world, but if you like a little more symbolism in your comics you won’t be disappointed. Keys feature heavily; in particular the key that Megan carries around her neck as a reminder of the first home she ever flees and the mother whose dreams she comes to embody. Similarly photographs and other objects of sentimental value occur and recur, the outward detritus of human emotion. In a disturbing segue, Megan strikes up a relationship of sorts with a boy who steals her keys to leave pictures of himself in her apartment, quite literally physically asserting himself within her life.

Visually, Local is stark; gritty even. People matter, with faces in particular vividly drawn though rarely romanticised. The look of it somehow serves to reinforce the feelings of isolation and yearning that Megan experiences. It’s also something that is not quite a love letter to the USA itself… there’s a wary affection for the cities that feature but it’s worth noting that it’s only in rural America that Megan finally finds any kind of peace with herself.

Note the key around her neck, Local is full of symbolism relating to keys...

Ultimately, we all want what Megan wants. To be sure that we are living the life we are supposed to, rather than allowing our mistakes to divert us into boxes that don’t fit. Her wanderings are a metaphorical echo of our own false starts and reinventions. But she has the key to her true home all along. We should all be so lucky.

This week, Kate Townshend is guzzling Pimms while there is still time!

The Reluctant Geek - Superheroes, sidekicks and storytelling… What makes a superhero?

So, if you were thinking of going on some kind of Geek hunt (it’s like an Easter Egg hunt only with less chocolate) around Cheltenham, there would be some obvious locations to begin. Proud Lion itself would have to be number one port of call of course, followed by Cineworld (particularly if it’s showing sci-fi or fantasy). Otherwise, popular stereotypes would have us believe that the rest of Gloucestershire’s geek population would be found in tiny isolated pockets, playing Diablo 3 in darkened basements or painting Games Workshop models in garages.

But, as you know, we’re all about defying stereotypes over here at the Proud Lion blog. Being a geek doesn’t have to mean poor social skills and an aversion to sunlight (I think you’ll find that’s vampires).  So a trip to the Parabola Arts Centre to see an amazing new show about superheroes ticks both the ‘relevant to my interests’ box and the ‘challenging societal expectations’ box. What do you have to lose?

The Adventures of  Wound Man and Shirley is a one man show about Shirley, a teenage boy with a girl’s name, growing up in suburbia and feeling like the weirdest kid in the school. (We’ve all been there right? Although, to be fair, in my case having a girl’s name was less traumatic…)

Nothing makes much sense to Shirley and he’s under the thrall of unrequited love, but life gets infinitely more interesting when a strange new resident moves into a house on Shirley’s street — and he just so happens to have a vacancy for a teenage sidekick...

It’s fair to say that Wound Man is an unconventional kind of superhero; sprung from the pages of a medical textbook from the middle ages, with an alarming assortment of weapons sticking out from every part of his body like some kind of medieval porcupine. Shirley, by contrast, is something of a dreamer — a romantic at heart, whose obsessions are astronomy, comic books, and an array of indie music and uncool pop. Together they embark on a series of wildly unsuccessful heroic interventions, as relayed by the irrepressible and endlessly engaging Chris Goode.

So what does a character based on a medical diagram showing an array of fun and exciting ways to be injured in 16th century battles really know about being a superhero? What makes a superhero in the first place? And these days, should we perhaps be using a more politically correct term?  ‘Freelance Social Interventionists assemble!’ does have a certain ring to it after all…

Linguistic quibbles aside, superhero-dom does require certain key attributes, so does Wound Man fit the bill?

The hook…

– Wound Man. My name’s Wound Man.

Shirley stops himself from saying that’s a funny sort of name because what sort of a name for a boy is Shirley. But Wound Man sees the thought move behind Shirley’s eyes.

– It’s not my, what do you call it, my birth name. It’s my… professional name.

It is said that every superhero needs an identifying feature or hook, and for Wound Man this may literally be the case, since there’s bound to be one sticking out of him somewhere. But on a basic level, a name and a superpower/quirk are essential for the superhero looking to stand out from the crowd.

The superpower…

–  Like, do you have, superpowers?

– Well, I don’t fly, if that’s what you mean. I’m not quite as aerodynamic as I’d like to be. One’s practice is not so spectacular, anyway. It’s rather more… grass roots. The sector’s changed a lot in the last twenty years. We’re more about sustainable engagement now. We’re not just in and out. We try to apply a more dimensionalized perspective to the challenges we’re dealing with. It’s all about empowering other people really.

– Can you see through people’s clothes though? says Shirley.

– No, says Wound Man. That’s a rather more 70s vibe.

– Not even, like, women’s bras and stuff?

– No, says Wound Man.

Ah, X-ray vision. The superpower dreamed of by teenage boys everywhere. Wound Man takes a more post-modern approach, and at any rate, as he says all of those knives and axes sticking out all over the place don’t exactly make for aerodynamic efficiency. Sometimes though, we have to look beyond the literal to see the superpower which is where Wound Man comes in.

The sidekick…

– But do you need a sidekick? Possibly? You’ve probably got one already. I just thought with the move and everything…

Wound Man looks up from the sponsorship form. He looks straight at Shirley with a kind of intensity that Shirley could easily believe was a superpower anyway. For a second or two Shirley feels more naked than if Wound Man could see through his clothes to his skin and through his skin to the goo on the inside.

Wound Man blinks once, twice. It makes no sound.

Shirley realizes with a jolt that there are tears in Wound Man’s eyes. He looks away.

Being a Superhero can be a lonely business. And everyone knows that the most interesting superheroes are defined by their ability (or lack thereof) to relate to those around them. Think Batman, Robin and some homoerotic banter. No really, think about it. I know I am… Sorry, drifted off there. Often, sidekicks provide a kind of youthful, less cynical mirror for the superheroes they aid. And maybe Shirley is in some ways Wound Man before all the wounds.

The cause…

The reason that Wound Man hates the Reg Parsleys of the world is that he has to lie to them. Because they can’t hear anything complicated. They don’t understand that it’s not all black and white. So he has to talk white. And they all hear black regardless. Reg surveys the kitchen. The postcard of the boy on the fridge.

– That another one, is it?

– Another one what? says Wound Man.

– I’m sure I shouldn’t like to say, says Reg.

Every weapon in Wound Man’s body feels like it just went in.

– I take it you’ve never had a sidekick, Mr Parsley, says Wound Man. You don’t have the air of a man who’s ever had a sidekick.

Reg just smiles. Wound Man’s seen that smile so many times and every time he understands it a little bit less.

– Well I won’t hold you up any longer, says Reg. Now that we’ve had this little conversation, I’m sure you’ll have a lot that you need to get done in a short space of time.

– Indeed, says Wound Man.

Well there we are. A superhero’s work is never done.

Every superhero needs a cause. Something to rail against. Whether that’s embodied in a super villain or simply the injustice they see around them, superheroes are at odds with the world because they refuse to accept it as it is, in all of its brutal squalor.

Of course, if you’re a comic book aficionado you may well have your own criteria for superheroes which is precisely why you need to go and see Wound Man. Iron Man, The Hulk and Captain America may well have the ‘stopping invaders from space and gods with big horny helmets’ market cornered, but for some superhero action closer to home, the Parabola Arts Centre is the place to be.

Besides, Wound Man has more weapons than any of the Avengers… even if they are largely embedded in his body.

Tickets are £10 or £8 concessions from Parabola Arts Centre box office - 01242 707 338 or www.parabolaartscentre.co.uk.

Wound Man and Shirley is on Fri 1st ONLY at 7:30pm. Running time approx 60 minutes.

Kate Townsend is wondering what's happened to the cup of tea she was promised!

Five By Five - Comics, week 3: Phonogram

Last weekend, because I am both rock and roll and hardcore, I went to a nightclub with the express intention of losing myself in the music. (Eminem references: I’m still totally down with the kids).

I know what you’re thinking: Me and several hundred thousand other people right? Pubbing and clubbing on a Saturday night is pretty much a great British pass time; so much so that it has its own associated mini-rituals (even if they do primarily involve a donner kebab and a friend willing to hold your hair back for you as you weep into the gutter about the sheer existentialist absurdity of your own right shoe. Or is that just me?)

The truth is, fast food, projectile vomiting and girls who think that layers of fake tan are an acceptable alternative to clothes too often define nights out. We all want that transcendental moment when the DJ really does save your life, but it’s rare, and dependent on a magical alignment of people and place and beat.

It’s possible though, which is why we return to these sticky floored churches week after week in the hope that God will eventually show up.

The idea of it is endlessly compelling, and this week’s graphic novel series Phonogram takes it even further, as an entire pantheon shimmer and echo around the festivals, nightclubs and other music venues of the UK.

Phonogram takes place in a universe very much like our own; except that music really is magic here, and it chooses its own acolytes, sometimes without a great deal of discrimination. It might seem like an odd thing to say, but barely pages into ‘Rue Britannia’, the first offering in the series, I was as sure that I loved the story as I was that I hated the protagonist; pretentious, chain smoking David Kohl.

Of course, hate can be a complex emotion, and Kohl is a character with self-knowledge if nothing else, combined with an acute awareness of the powerful and ambivalent responses he can elicit. In possession of a strange mix of angst-ridden self-loathing and a misogynist’s swagger he declares himself a ‘white man in clitoris palace’ at the start of the story...

Before a well-timed and satisfying ass-kicking from a goddess.

Deities abound here and the metaphors are thick, fast and not always subtle. They don’t feel clumsy or forced though, because so many of the ideas they give form to have a ring of truth about them. From the fallen goddess of Brit Pop (once great, now best left buried), to the ‘memory palaces’ built from our collective impressions of a time, a place, a musical zeitgeist, Phonogram works because music is so close to metaphor anyway. A bunch of carefully arranged vibrations shouldn’t be able to make us laugh or cry or want to get laid. But they totally do. It’s only a hop, skip and a jump from here to giving these vibrations form and personality. And of course, we’re all slaves to the music sometimes. It’s just that here, there are phonomancers, touched by this sound magic, to make the influence explicit.

Phonogram's other obsession - very much in evidence in the collection of short stories in its second offering ‘The Singles Club’ (see what they did there?) - is identity, and the ways in which music allows us to belong, to rebel or to reinvent ourselves. It’s a whistle stop tour through one random indie night during which a host of phonomancers swirl past each other, each living out their own personal dramas. The interesting thing about it is the extent to which this is ‘inside out’ writing. In every single scene we’re allotted a protagonist  guide who invites us inside their head (and in one rather splendid case tells us to get the hell out again). There’s nowhere for them (or us) to hide from the insecurities, the jealousy or the spite that abound in every human heart and yet there’s something undeniably attractive about it all. We’re invited into the conversation and inevitably we wind up colluding with it.

It’s a dichotomy expressed perfectly in the recurrent character of Emily, a phonomancer of considerably greater power than David, who glides through the pages like some pierced medusa. You know you shouldn’t look but you do anyway. She’s undeniably a bitch, but she’s clever and insightful and just, well, *cool* as well. And as readers we’re granted a strange intimacy; the chance to see the old self she has abandoned to reinvent herself through sheer force of will.

For those interested in that sort of thing, it’s also worth noting that it all looks pretty damn sexy too. Where ‘Rue Britannia’ is noirey and printed entirely in black and white, ‘The Singles Club’ embraces a new palate; reds and oranges for that point in the evening when the air itself seems to sweat; moody blues and greys for more contemplative moments.  Jamie McKelvie draws human faces with a great deal of attention and even love, but the background detail is pared right down - it’s the *characters* that matter here. And the look of it isn’t the only additional dimension breathing life into Phonogram; there’s a sort of silent soundtrack that accompanies each scene, and for music lovers it offers dual opportunities for geeking out. (Kieron Gillen really knows his stuff and there are extensive notes on the music behind it all at the end of each book).

Perhaps the heart of it is that Phonogram celebrates the sheer, breathless, hedonistic, nihilistic thrill of sex and music and youth; of dark corners and wild parties and the exhilaration of existing in a perpetual state of not giving a fuck. It makes for a strangely unsettling read, but also an appropriately spell-binding one.

Because if magic exists anywhere, this is where it would be...

This week Kate is experiencing her annual bout of spring restlessness.

Five By Five - Comics, week 2: All Star Superman

Oh Superman, Superman. With your chiseled jaw and your lovely manners, you’re just the kind of superhero any girl could take home to meet her parents. Whilst Batman might come across as sullen and a little bit emo (what’s with all the black?) and Spider-Man tends to leave those sticky patches all over the place (highly undesirable when meeting the potential in-laws) Superman could be trusted to sip his cup of tea, and say all the right things about being a good person and choosing the righteous path and always remembering to floss.

The thing is though, as a hundred bitter single guys will tell you, that just isn’t always enough to get a girl’s pulse racing. And to be honest, Superman has always struck me as just a little bit, well, dull... So when faced with the Man of Steel himself on the cover of All Star Superman, cape flowing, hands beatifically raised, there may possibly have been some eye-rolling and pre-judging going on. Hard as it may be to believe it’s possible that I even approached the text with something less than true literary impartiality.

So this is where I tell you that the All Star version of Superman blew all my preconceptions away right? That this version of the character left me quivering with scholarly excitement and barely suppressed lust. Well, not quite. Superman here *is* distinctive (particularly in his Clark Kent incarnation) but essentially he wouldn’t be Superman without that aura of incorruptible goodness and perfection. It makes him iconic of course; an archetype of chivalry and moral courage. But it also makes him only slightly less bland than a sandwich made with one of those blasphemous plastic squares of cheese.

The point is that, as with swallows, one flying guy in a cape does not an amazing graphic novel make. And that’s OK. Because one flying guy in a cape plus a bunch of other interesting, well realised characters, deftly handled plotlines, and recurrent thematic ideas? Now you’ve got a summer.

Let’s assume for a moment that as a reader of this blog, you’re pretty likely to have come across Superman in one form or another; comics, eighties movies, life-size cardboard cut-out that you stole from the foyer of your local cinema growing up, whatever works for you. All Star Superman takes all of that accumulated baggage and turns it into lore, so that rather than a jumble of admittedly interesting but rather abstract ideas, what we get is a narrative with a beginning, middle and end. I won’t give away the hook that drives the story forward, but the premise allows for myriad explorations of mortality and what it means to be human, as well as what it means to be a super hero.

Superman himself of course has always struggled under the weight of dual identities, and there’s a stroke of genius in the artwork and the writing here. I’ve always found the ‘Clark is Superman, just with glasses and a suit’ school of thought a little less than satisfying, but in All Star Superman the two men *move* differently. Clark is a pot-bellied, head-bowed cerebral type; too busy thinking about his next story to exert much control over his hulking farm boy’s body. Whereas Superman is straight and tall and rigid (ahem), a Kryptonian arrow pointing the way to justice and betterment and all of that other good stuff. It’s effective and it has the odd side effect of placing doubt in the reader’s mind as well. There’s an early scene where Superman tries to convince Lois that he and Clark are one and the same. And even though I *know* he’s telling the truth, I sort of understand her skepticism. Is Clark truly a part of Superman or just a disguise he wears?

Lois, by the way, is gorgeously drawn and splendidly fiery throughout, though it would have been nice to see her with a bit more to do than just hanging around like some kind of sexy occasional table. To be fair, there is a gleeful episode where Lois’s Superwoman gets to wear the outfit and try out some saving of humanity for herself and her lack of hesitation when faced with the chance to live in Superman’s world for a while is telling. (We’ll gloss over the fact that even as a superheroine she still ends up as a bit of a damsel in distress). This trying on of Superman’s role is a recurring theme throughout, with both Jimmy Olsen and Lex Luthor also metaphorically donning that lycra and giving superpowers of their own a go at various points.

This question of what it means to live in a world where super-powers exist seems to be pretty central to the story in general and it’s not Superman who struggles with it, but the characters around him. Jimmy, a pair of wonderfully disdainful Kryptonian time travellers, Zibarro (more on him later), but none more so than Lex Luthor. I’ve never come across a Lex with more fully realized motivations than the one here; utterly unable as he is to reconcile himself to being ‘just’ an ordinary human in a universe where Superman is constantly buzzing around like a red and blue bee, stinging away at Lex’s own need to be brilliant and special. There’s almost a sibling-like relationship between the two of them as Lex rails against an older ‘brother’ the world will always prefer and Superman, ever patient, continues to try to re-direct Luthor’s energies. Lex’s focus is a world without Superman, and yet he positions Superman at the very centre of his own personal world.

Lex’s bigger problem though, is the story’s other over-arching message. ‘Superman’ is more than just the cells and the outfit that make up Kal-El. ‘Superman’ is an image of selflessness and idealism; an idea; a theory. And just as it’s impossible to destroy an idea once it’s free in the world, it’s equally impossible to destroy Superman. On a literal level, this manifests as a bunch of other red and blue clad heroes that haunt the pages throughout All Star Superman. Not only Lois as Superwoman, but future incarnations of Superman himself, as well as flawed doubles like the heartbreaking Zibarro, alone in his sentience on a planet of lesser beings (spot the unspoken metaphor…).

And maybe that’s why I’ve never been able to get on board with Superman as a character. I’ve been going about it in the wrong way, because fundamentally he’s more than that. All Star Superman makes this transience explicit. It isn’t Superman’s own story, it’s the story of humanity pursuing the ideals he embodies: goodness, self-sacrifice and, OK, who doesn’t like a chiseled jaw?

This week Kate Townshend is hoping you’ll join her in ignoring the temporal lapse between this and the last Five by Five column. It’s one of those timey, wimey, wibbly wobbly things.

52 New Beginnings - The Edge

All-Star Western
reviewed by Ben Fardon

Poor Jonah Hex. Never a particularly famous character in the DCU, but he does have his fans and the ongoing series of the last few years was critically praised.

Then came last year's movie and any hope of Hex finding a wider audience disappeared in flames. Chances are you haven't seen it. Probably because you read the reviews! I had the chance to watch it in the hotel in the Big Apple during the New York ComicCon and I can confirm that it was truly awful.

So, come the 52 reboot it makes perfect sense that DC would decide to quietly shelf the eponymous title, in favour of something similar, a return to All Star Western, the title in which Hex debuted back in 1972.

Thankfully DC have kept the same writers and Gray and Palmiotti have taken the shrewd move of relocating Jonah Hex to the Old West version of Gotham City, recently established in the successful Batman Gates Of Gotham miniseries. This immediately gives the title some appeal to the huge Batman fanbase, which the cynical part of me questions as mere stunt, but the pragmatist in me can't help but grudgingly approve.


The cover says it all really. Jonah Hex + Gotham = hopeful success? What we essentially have here is a 19th Century criminal investigation as the much maligned Doctor Amadeus Arkham teams up with the infamous bounty hunter Jonah Hex. The juxtaposition of an educated but ridiculed psychiatrist with a sickening yet respected loner is a good mix, a collision of the verbose and the stoic. It keeps character interaction at the heart of a story that could otherwise slide into cliché, especially with murdered prostitutes and a serial killer daubing bloody messages onto walls. Throw in a clandestine cabal of wealthy businessmen, some carousing in a saloon and the DC New 52 staple of a fancy dinner party and you really could have a mess of stereotypes akin to this month's DC Universe Presents.

Thankfully, not unlike the modern day Sherlock that Steven Moffat recently treated us to, All Star Western rises above such concerns by allowing the characters to inhabit the story. It's also great to see returning faces from Gates Of Gotham such as Mayor Theodore Cobblepot and doubtless we will see more of these founding fathers. The world of 19th Century Gotham City is a rich playground and Jonah Hex will have a lot fun there. This title is definitely worth a look for fans of the aforementioned Batman miniseries.

One word of warning. The artwork does not dazzle or inspire. It's sparse on detail and the colours are flat and muted, which whilst it does fit the gritty Western genre, I found myself longing for the sparkle of an indie book like Lady Mechanika. Which is a shame because with better artwork this could have been one of the real breakout hits of the new 52. Instead, it's simply quite good.

Blackhawks
reviewed by D Kai Wilson-Viola

Once again, I’m coming into a franchise blind, except, for once, I recognise two of the names on the front. Mike Costa does IDW's G.I. Joe comics and the storyline is very reminiscent of that style - as is some of the artwork - which was a bit of a surprise. There’s a specific character or two on the front that I looked at and thought ‘hah, familiar’. And I love Graham Nolan’s artwork – his Phantom wasn’t a great comic story wise, but the artwork definitely left an impression on me. Normally, I’m kinda oblivious, so this one’s a winner.


Blackhawks is a good comic – I thought the storyline was awesome, but I did think a couple of the panels seemed to be out of order – I’m not sure if they were or if I just got really confused, but that didn’t really interrupt much at all. The atmosphere, style and underlying concepts were good, and the cliffhanger at the end is actually almost as strong as the best comics I’ve reviewed this month.

My only complaint? Other than page four being out of order (she asks if he’s a biter at the top, then gets bitten, though it could just be a worse bite the second time) – nothing. I liked the colour balance, which was a range for once, but more subtle in areas than I was expecting .

As I actually know something about the writer and one of the artists, I think I was instantly endeared. I know Mike Costa only started being published in 2009, and this is a very nicely developed strong storyline, without being overpowering. For once I actually feel like I’m at the same place as everyone else. I’m intrigued enough to be interested, and would be quite comfortable letting my teenage son read this one – though whether that continues remains to be seen.


Voodoo
reviewed by Kate Townshend

I’m torn. On the one hand, at least Voodoo is a comic with some awareness of the male gaze. Voodoo herself gets a full facial shot (if you’ll excuse the expression) on the front cover, and there’s a marvellous series of frames where we see her strip show through the lens of a leering male detective’s sunglasses. Even the other strippers in the story get a fair shot at some dialogue and characterisation although it does tend to fall into the ‘single Mom saving for college’ dramatic stereotypes. So maybe I’m not so torn actually... despite its subject matter Voodoo doesn’t send me into a blind feminist rage which is already a point in its favour.


On top of this, it’s another comic that seems to narrow the lens in order to focus on the emotional struggles and motivations of characters, and it’s this intimacy that makes it interesting. The strip club interrogation scene is a bit of a cliché but Voodoo’s transformation is genuinely startling, and at the point where she loses it, she’s already built up some sympathetic collateral with the reader. She might look like another misogynist vision of a ‘bad’ girl, but there are at least hints here that she’s merely a frightened misfit, trying to get along and fit in, much like everyone else.

Equally heartening, is the portrayal of the female detective on Voodoo’s tail, who spends much of this first issue refusing to put up with her partner’s brand of renegade sexism and kicking the asses of a bunch of wannabe Eminem Neanderthals. I really hope that having set her up as a character in her own right, we’ll be seeing more of her as the series unfolds.

By now you’re probably picking up on the tone of mild surprise running through this review. I didn’t expect to like Voodoo. But, actually, I kind of do.

52 New Beginnings - The Dark

I, Vampire

reviewed by Kate Townshend

Well, after joking a couple of weeks ago that the next stage in female character outfit evolution would be Harley strutting around au naturel on a front cover, I, Vampire has made me realise that I’m already behind the times. Our protagonists are pictured looking mean and moody; him with jeans and rippling biceps, her with, well pretty much nothing at all actually (I refuse to count the ‘slightly darker shading’ that has been used to prevent the comic from being consigned to opaque plastic bags on the top shelf).

Despite this, I Vampire is exactly the sort of story I should like, focused as it is on the interpersonal dynamics between two rather striking characters. He is a tortured Angel type, wrestling with his darker impulses, while she is fearless and amoral and rather compelling actually. The artwork is pretty cool too, all flowing lines and stark blacks and whites juxtaposed against one another, and it works because this is a world where lines of good and evil are being drawn against a sense that it would be delightfully easy to just go with the flow.

And I love the fact that this first issue is fundamentally just a conversation between the two main characters... it’s an effective way of drawing us into their world and demarcating the lines that will drive the story. Some of the dialogue is a little clunky, but I can’t make up my mind whether or not this is just the awkwardness of the character or a flaw in the writing. The revolutionary parallels that Mary tries to draw are interesting if not terribly subtle, and there is a real sense of an epic narrative being set in place.

But back to the nakedness. Part of me wonders if this is just an explicit parallel being made between Mary and her animalistic side, in which case you could make an (admittedly rather tenuous) case for it as a justified part of characterisation. She is "magnificent", "free" and unfettered and maybe she’s just cooler than the rest of us with our bourgeois preferences for textiles. The less generous interpretation though, is that this is another tired attempt to link sexual women with evil ones. In which case, yawn.

Overall though, it’s fun, interesting and worth a second look. (At the contents… not just the cover!)

Justice League Dark

reviewed by D Kai Wilson-Viola

Of all the comics, bar Teen Titans, this has actually be one that I’ve been looking forward to. I live in a ‘Cartoon Network’ household, which means things like Teen Titans, Justice League and Static Shock are actually franchise sets that I recognise, so when I heard I was getting JL:D, I squeed a little.

And, of all the comics I’ve reviewed so far, this one has to be one of the better ones. Maybe it’s because I know some of the mythology they’re using for once, or perhaps I just really got the pace, the colouring and the techniques, but this one is definitely one that I’d like to continue with. It’s interesting enough that it held my attention from the outset, and I liked (and yes, recognised) some of the characters. There are some nice precedents established, plus, I was quite interested to see whom they’d dragged in from Justice League, so from the outset there is crossover and interaction. I won’t spoil that, but it’s enough to say that the overlay story and narrator works really well, while allowing the story just to unfold, which is something I think is very neat. There’s control and direction there while the story evolves, and as a writer, I love seeing that technique employed properly. In contrast to the Deadman comic last week (who, coincidentally makes a brief appearance), which swung and missed, this was perfect.

There are – kind of – styles associated with each character, though so far we haven’t seen them all in the same place, so I’m not sure if that’s going to be something that continue through the comic, which will be interesting, but mostly, I like the overall and underlying story, along with the stronger, deeper story going on. It’ll be neat to see where this one goes.

52 New Beginnings - Batman/Green Lantern

Birds Of Prey
reviewed by Robert Barton-Ancliffe

Although I hadn’t followed previous Birds of Prey titles, I was mildly intrigued by this re-launch, based on both the colourful mix of characters on the cover and the potentially interesting fallout for the team with regards to the new 52 status quo. Even the uninitiated will surely be familiar with recent forum chatter concerning former Birds of Prey leader Oracle, aka Barbara Gordon, and her miraculous recovery from a serious spinal injury that had defined and enriched her characterisation for the last 23 years.

While fans seem resigned to accept this turn of events as the point is slowly explored in the pages of Gail Simone’s recently re-launched ‘Batgirl’, many will no doubt be a little perturbed by her cameo appearance here. While the baton passing is only natural as Black Canary and Babs discuss assembling a new roster, for me this narrative curveball proved a little distracting from what should be a fresh start, particularly as Babs’s characterisation as a holier-than-thou and rather smug matriarch does the character little favours.

The question seems to be, can Birds of Prey fully emerge from the shadow of the newly-minted Batgirl and fly on their own? Although this issue is fast paced and uses a fairly simple but workable narrative device of introducing us to the team through the eyes of an outsider, there is very little substance. At best, the characters seem a little underdeveloped, and at worst, a little objectified. Although cleanly drawn with impressive attention to atmosphere and background detail, Jesus Saiz’s pencils do little more than display the largely female cast in a serious of provocative action poses.


Perhaps this is a little overly critical of a book in which the male characters are equally drawn as perfect specimens, but there is so little else to get to grips with in the rather sparse script, with few hints of deeper layers or future arc plots. As a reader one cannot help but notice such shortcomings.

One final thought. Although the cover promises an interesting team roster, with the inclusion of a figure that I assume to be Poison Ivy together with a sword wielding samurai character, the failure of either to appear in this first issue made me feel a little duped. Its all very well teasing us with the shape of things to come, with both this hint and the recent announcement that Barbara Gordon as Batgirl will drop in for issue #4, I can’t help wishing that this first issue had been gripping enough to make me want to stick with the series until writer Duane Swierczynski’s long game plays out in full.


Catwoman
reviewed by Kate Townshend

I don’t want to end up banging on about this but I’m starting to sense a bit of a common theme with some of DC’s new comics. If there’s a female character in there, particularly if she’s ambiguously placed on the super villain/super hero spectrum then the chances are that she’ll be showing an awful lot of cleavage on the front cover.


So it is with Catwoman, and although I’ve always loved her sexiness as integral to the character, starting the very first story of this reboot with a bunch of frames where she’s falling out of a red bra does seem a touch... gratuitous.

Anyway, winding up the ranting and putting feminist reservations aside, I’m a little bit in love with Catwoman. Like all the most compelling characters she has her own agenda and thus her own voice, cleverly re-enforced by the fact that she narrates the events of this first outing.

Pleasingly, this thematic consistency works with the artwork too. The voiceover ensures that we see each frame through the lens of Catwoman’s own consciousness, and it’s a world of muted, twilight hues, blues and blacks and greys... (Do you see where they’re going with this metaphor yet?) Rather than being monotonous though it’s strangely engaging, particularly because the flashes of colour that do leap out of the page are a wonderful attention focuser.

And frequently, they come from Catwoman herself - that crimson bra, a scarlet wig... As she escapes from trouble she declares with a weary kind of glee, "Let them notice." And, boy, do we.

We’re not the only ones either. Apparently, Catwoman is still drawing all the right kinds of attention from Batman. I’ve never really got there dynamic before, but it kind of works here. He steams in, the voice of the patriarchy, essentially all ready to tell her off for being naughty. But like Eve with that apple, his resolve falters in the face of an eloquent bad girl. She takes what she needs from him, not what he intends to give. And ultimately even Batman’s uncompromising morality is dragged into her world and its shades of grey. Who can really blame him either?


Green Lantern Corps
reviewed by Matt Puddy

Over the years the Green Lantern Corps title has grown and evolved to become a strong title. It has always involved at least one of the human Lanterns, even when they have spun off into other titles, like Guy Gardner and the Emerald Warriors. So in contrast I was really happy to see that the opening was revolving around other members of the Corps, albeit in a bind, which then shifts to showing weakness, uncertainty and an inability to adjust. The almost ironic positioning gives it all a very good grounding. This is something that I have come to expect from Peter Tomasi, not going through the motions but trying to find an edge or new perspective.

When you also add in that amongst the personal struggles there is a completely unknown quantity in an enemy that is direct, focussed - and essentially just a hand glimpsed in one frame - you have been given a first issue that leaves you looking for answers.


My one criticism would be that although sometimes necessary some of the frames could get a little too wordy however this is also helpful in punctuating certain sections and solidifying characters opinions and feelings. The perfect example is John and his architectural foray.

Fernando Pasarin has provided the artwork for the issue. The images are very clean and smooth with an almost hygienic feel to it which is highlighted further by the blood and death as they are made to stand out. By far my favourite moment is when Guy and John are having a “heart to heart” on a satellite of all things and the use of space, both literally and figuratively, has been done really well. The only thing I wasn't fond of was the lack of detail in the contructs the rings have made. This is something I found lacking, especially with John’s background and mind.

Now as a Green Lantern fan I will happily be following this but it’s also a title that I can see, once developed, would attract more new readers. I just hope that it can grow and expand into what I hope it can be!

52 New Beginnings - Superman/Young Justice

Blue Beetle

reviewed by Robert Barton-Ancliffe

The name of Blue Beetle for me carries a few expectations, and I have to admit I was (perhaps unfairly) expecting a title with a slightly tongue in cheek style and a reasonably light-hearted tone, but from the epic space faring prologue, this is a series that looks set to establish a serious and meaningful identity.

Following this galaxy spanning beginning the action shifts focus to present day Earth as we witness two concurrent storylines. Firstly, we are introduced to our endearing but unremarkable protagonists, Texas high-school kids Joey, Paco and Brenda while at the same time a cabal of evil meta-humans seek an artefact which is revealed to be the Blue Beetle parasite that fell to Earth centuries ago. Given the build-up from the prologue and the true nature of this parasite, this sets up a nice source of tension as our protagonists head off to a party and an inevitable collision course with danger and potential tragedy.

Writer Tony Bedard clearly writes the young cast with affection, but the high school troubles our trio experience seem fairly run of the mill, and while likeable, their story doesn’t quite grip me as a reader. By the end of the issue, Joey, the most vulnerable of the teens steps up to the plate and shows hidden depth and strength that clearly mark him out to be the stuff of superheroes. Given what we learn from the prologue about the Blue Beetle parasite, this might introduce some much needed personal risk into our hero’s life, but for now there is nothing sufficiently interesting about the story to hook me on the basis of one issue.

Having said that, the look of this book is gorgeous. The art team of Ig Guara and Ruy Jose do a stunning job, providing brash and swooping action, while paying plenty of attention to the details. Guara’s pencils do seem a little scratchy during the quieter moments, but this feature does add to the frenetic, almost crackling with energy feel of the explosive action. The overall look of the characters and settings too is like a breath of fresh air, and the setting, whether outer space, or the open spaces of Texas helps the book establish a mood of its own, slightly removed from the largely urban DCU.

Overall, I like this book, but it isn’t quite essential reading. It could be the perfect introduction for new or younger readers to jump on board and find a new adventure without the weight of history behind it, but it hasn’t yet shown anything that has made me sit up and take notice.

Legion of Super-Heroes

reviewed by Robert Barton-Ancliffe

Legion Of Super-Heroes #1 puts me in two minds. Having just finished the inaugural issue of the re-launched title by writer Paul Levitz and artist Francis Portela, part of me feels a little overwhelmed with the sheer scope of the universe described within. The other part feels like I’ve just been introduced to a potential new love, so striking and confident is this introduction.

Having been largely unfamiliar with the history of the Legion prior to this re-launch, I get the impression that this issue will certainly be a treat for established fans. There are few concessions as we are introduced to a diverse team of 31st century meta-humans with an obvious shared history, several plot strands and tantalising hints of a recent tragedy, but thankfully Levitz provides enough to entice and intrigue newcomers with a mixture of dynamic team interaction and explosive stand offs all guided by a script that is dense but witty enough to hold the interest.

The future setting and planet hopping action are brought to vivid life by Portela’s artwork, which is slightly exaggerated, but cohesive and convincing. Visually interesting and showcasing a deft touch for alien foliage and expressive features alike, the attention to detail is impressive without distracting the focus from where it ought to be. Special mention must also go to colourist Javier Mena who manages to bring an already visually busy book to life with vivid colours that really transport the reader away from the everyday DCU, which is almost dreary by comparison.

My first impression of this book was that there is almost too much for the casual fan to be hooked on the basis of one issue, and while for me that is usually the sign of a book that has missed the mark, I slowly find myself wanting to re-read this issue, the maybe read some past Legion titles, and the re-read last week’s sister title ‘Legion Lost’, and…you get the idea. Long story short, I think my pull list has just increased by a Legion or two!

Supergirl

reviewed by Kate Townshend

Poor Supergirl. I’ll admit that when I received my trio of review comics this week, I was way more excited about reading about the women than the girls.

Typical, I had already decided, that while Superman gets to be a man, Supergirl is stuck in a state of pseudo-adoloescence. The sexism!

Except that, actually, because this DC version of the eponymous heroine really, honestly *is* a girl, it’s an awful lot less offensive. She’s a teenager who stumbles through the opening issue with no idea what’s going on and an overwhelming desire for her Mum and Dad to show up and save her. It makes her strangely endearing. Even more so as she struggles with power and potential that are enormous, but don’t seem to be entirely under her control.

The story itself is linear and unencumbered by flashes around in time or place, so we suffer along with Kara, with no more definite knowledge about what’s going on than she has.

There are robots and explosions aplenty though, if that’s enough to sway anyone in the direction of giving this a whirl. And they lend themselves to the artwork, which is epic and thus a little sparse. It’s saved from mediocrity by the emotional emphasis and attention paid to Supergirl’s facial expressions. She’s at the centre of this story and it shows.

It’s a funny one really, because a part of me feels that I ought to like Supergirl more than I do. Unfortunately though, it’s just lacking impact or pizzazz or whatever je ne sais quoi is required to make a comic sing. Solid but not exciting. A little bit like, dare I say it, her famous cousin.

52 New Beginnings - Justice League

Captain Atom

reviewed by D Kai Wilson-Viola

A natural disaster threatens an unexpected city, and Captain Atom, whom has in the preceding pages been established as ‘breaking down’ in more ways than one, has to respond. Sounds like a good recipe for a comic right? Perhaps something even marginally ground-breaking?

It’s not all good though - I’m not sure if that was a deliberate allegory to the storyline, or if it was something accidental – but the first read through of the comic made me think ‘nothing special’. Just not till the very – absolute – last page of the first comic. Second read through and I spotted some subtleties I’d missed – but had I not been reviewing, and had that second page not caught me, I think I’d have not bothered again.

I quite enjoyed Captain Atom – like many of the superheroes that we encounter, he’s flawed – damaged in some way – and it’s a refreshing change to see someone that suffers inwardly instead of the tired tropes of being an orphan or other characterisation broad stroke that comics seem to employ. He’s been in a horrible accident, changing him, but this seems to be after his peak of power. Again, very interesting, but again, I found it difficult to empathise. There was definitively something missing from it.

Crisp artwork, mostly in shades that fit the mood that it’s trying to express, with clean, clever dialogue cap off a comic that didn’t go in the direction that I expected – and though I went into it reading something I thought was pretty much average, I came out of it wondering how they were going to run with the story. And what he’d done to create that very last thought, on the very last page.

It has action, and it has a certain amount of charm, but this is one of the comics that I think is going to kick ass on the back story – as well as go forward with what could be a very interesting – and possibly unique – setup.

DC Universe Presents

reviewed by D Kai Wilson-Viola

Amazing artwork with a bit of a cocky swagger to the inner monologue, and I was actually quite enjoying the whole thing until the third page when I got to, "flying through the air with the greatest of ease." Hello cliché. And they didn’t stop there, which is, in my book at least, unforgivable.

Deadman was a trapeze artist. Assassinated, I assume, because he was a bit of an arrogant piece of work by his own admission, he is to reincarnate and continue on to enlightenment. It kinda goes downhill from there. The concept has one touching element – the one thing that could redeem him – that he "had to do something" before possessing his next soul. The whole "cathartic healing of others via possession" concept could have been so much more – Quantum Leap for example did it in a much more interesting way.

Some of the other broad stroke characters that he’s ‘been’ that are dumbed down and expressed in one panel clichés: the priest who’s lost his faith; or the stripper who hates her father, yet cries because she misses him so much; the death wish stuntman (who makes an appearance at the beginning of the narration). All of them are trite and contrived - while I get that it’s supposed to be "just another step" for him and a life changing event for them – one panel just didn’t seem to do that concept justice. The encapsulation and back story dump, with the obvious stereotypes made me feel cheated, and that overshadowed the rest of the comic.

I guess that’s the other thing that bothered me – there was no working for the back story – and by the time I’d gotten to about the eighth panel of "I was once...", I wasn’t interested in his back story, I was bored. And to be fair, once again, that was perfect characterisation – Deadman isn’t enlightened, in the slightest. He’s still the self-centred guy that he appeared to be when assassinated. It’d might be interesting to see where this second instalment goes, but for now, I’m pretty much on the fence. It’s a pity, because the artist is amazing.

Wonder Woman

reviewed by Kate Townshend

Oh Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman! If you're expecting me to manage anything even remotely impartial on this one, then I fear I shall be a sad disappointment. You can’t offer up a gorgeous, wise Amazonian who takes down penthouse-owning misogynists and expect me to be anything other than dazzled.

Even the front cover, which is the most stylised and obviously ‘graphic’ of the DC offerings I’ve seen so far, is a feminist wet dream. She is fierce and sexy and focused, and most importantly, pretty damn well supported by that rather fetching bodice...

And although it doesn’t feel forced, the new writers have pretty much taken Wonder Woman’s status as a bit of a Suffragette icon and run with it. The most obvious ‘villain’ of the piece is introduced early on, and I think it would be fair to say that he might have some issues with his mother...

I worry slightly that other, ‘normal’ women in the series are going to be treated as slightly disposable, which rather undercuts the overall message, but I’m willing to hold fire on that for now. It is at least nice to see a female heroine protecting another woman. This is another one to add to my ‘comics that pass the Bechdel Test’ pile.

The artwork inside this issue is ‘graphic’ in the other sense of the word, and there’s a fair amount of blood being spilled from the word go. To be honest, there might even be a little bit too much going on as it all gets a little bit busy and confusing in places.

Then again, this does add to the sense of instant crisis and chaos that seems to make the pages sparkle with energy throughout. It raises questions, refuses to answer almost any of them and is generally a rather breathless read.

Most interestingly of all, is that although Wonder Woman instantly commands attention in any frame in which she features, it isn’t all about her just yet.

If the writers plan to ‘always leave ‘em wanting more’ of her, then it’s working. On me at least.

52 New Beginnings - The Dark

Demon Knights

reviewed by Kate Townshend

Let me get this straight, Demon Knights has the fall of Camelot, gender bending characters with super shiny armour and an extremely kinky threesome of sorts between an immortal woman and a man and demon who inhabit the same physical space? If this is less than awesome then something has gone horribly wrong somewhere...

So is it awesome? Well, it’s pretty damn good fun if nothing else. The first edition of Demon Knights has the pace and good humour of an adventure movie, combined with some darker moments that prevent me from dismissing it as pure, enjoyable fluff. We romp through time and jump between characters at speed and the distracted reader is liable to struggle to keep up, but the benefit of all this is that this issue reads almost like a particularly detailed painting. The longer you look at it the more eye-catching, idiosyncratic details appear.

The tavern scene is particularly well staged, with a veritable barrage of action and introductions - and really, what tavern scene is complete without the threat of castration hovering over everything?

Etrigan makes a surprisingly likable demon, and Xanadu is complex and long suffering, but with such a volume of character introductions it’s hard to get a real sense of anyone just yet. In itself this isn’t a bad thing, but I hope there is time in between all the action for a little bit more in the way of development.

What Demon Knights doesn’t seem to be just yet, is terribly serious. Demon babies aside, the darker moments are just that: moments. And yet the fall of Camelot echoes religious ideas about the fall of man in general, and there’s scope for a layer of much deeper thought beneath the banter and the drinking. Ultimately, it’s another wait and see factor for me, but as opening scenes go, this is an engaging one.

Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E.

reviewed by Kate Townshend

Of all of my pre-conceptions when faced with a comic book character based on a 19th century novel by a romantic novelist I have a bit of a girl crush on, I never expected to find DC’s crime busting Frankenstein quite so, well, likeable.

Despite the reams of technology, with robots wandering around and teeny tiny space-station-like edifices all over the place, I was pleasantly surprised to find that there is a strong human element (for want of a better phrase) running through this title. Frankenstein deals with very human emotions of rejection and self-protection and this thematic link to its inspirational source material makes the English Lit geek inside me very happy indeed! Even leaving Mary Shelley out of things, it’s also a nice juxtaposition for a story that is ostensibly populated with monsters.

Frankenstein is an ever so slightly tetchy, emotionally buttoned down character who retains an air of jaded romanticism, and I suspect that what he could really do with is a big hug. The chemistry between him and Father Time is rather wonderful, because of rather than in spite of, the fact that ‘Father’ is currently inhabiting the body of a small, somewhat bossy, girl. And the more human elements of the stories really ground it; the little boy fishing with his grandfather for example lends an air of realism despite the far-fetched setting.

It all seems to be setting things up for a clash of two cultures, between traditional ‘super-hero’ territory, the ‘world gone mad’ as Father calls it, and more gritty concerns of family, love and religion. I think this is really interesting, and despite not really expecting to like this title I’m grudgingly curious about how the story might develop.

Resurrection Man

reviewed by Ben Fardon

The Devil is in the details they say. Well, it is certainly the thing that really sticks in my mind about Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning's new Resurrection Man. The details. Little things like a different taste in our protagonist's mouth every time he comes back to life. Or the way he uses the magnetic powers he briefly possesses to entertain a scared baby at an airport.

This second detail told me more about Mitchell Shelley in half a page than an entire issue's worth of clumsy exposition told me about O.M.A.C. or Mr (not-so) Terrific. Mitch is a man who hasn't lost his humanity despite the horrific pain of dying and resurrecting on a regular basis or now being pursued by demons and angels.

Every time he comes back he has a whole new power, replacing whatever came before. In this issue he comes back to life twice; first with powers akin to Magneto, then with powers that appear to be like Spider-Man villain Hydro-Man. In the beginning he awakes in a morgue and can taste the metal of the gurney in his mouth. The second time, he can taste pain and tears.

Resurrection Man is one of the finest first issues I've read from the DC reboot. The supernatural elements aren't hokey, but instead invoke the later seasons of the TV adventures of Sam & Dean Winchester. The main character's inner monologue is compelling and the other people he encounters feel real and believable. It reads more like a Vertigo title than a DC superhero book of old. Madame Xanadu sneaks in on the action near the end and elsewhere two interestingly sadistic femme fatales are just getting warmed up...

The art isn't spellbinding, but it fits the tone of the writing well enough. This isn't a book that wants the pencils of Jim Lee after all. Dagnino brings the script to life with a clarity and purpose that is commendable.

I really hope Resurrection Man is a huge success. I love an underdog and this new title is more of a revival than a reboot. DnA created Mitch and they last brought him to our comic shop shelves back in the late Nineties, but the title was sadly cancelled after a couple of years. I fully expect to see graphic novels collections of the previous series being solicited with a year. Because I'm certain that this tale of a wandering hero who keeps coming back to life with a new superpower will find an appreciative audience this time around.

Certainly in the past decade, DnA have found a greater fan base between their work with Games Workshop properties and acclaimed work for Marvel like Annihilation and the various following successes. Resurrection Man #1 shares this fine pedigree and that's evident from the evocative first page.

You can just taste the details.