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Pen-Elayne
For Your Thoughts - Week of October 15-21, 1995
This week's digest: Alfred Harvey's BLACK CAT No. 01 Alfred Harvey's BLACK CAT No. 01 Writer: Mark Evanier This Issue's Firesign Line: "All those curves showing through that flimsy burnoose..." Here's what I thought... I think Murphy Anderson may have been replaced by a pod person. I am also reminded of Jessica Rabbit's cooing tagline, "I'm not bad - I'm just drawn that way." I was introduced to the Black Cat back when Steve and I were roster members in the comics apa CAPA-alpha, which has its share of Golden Age fans. I was fascinated by the character of movie star Linda Turner, who pretended in front of boyfriend Rick Horne to harbor disdain for her own alter ego so as to throw his reporter's instincts off her trail. The Black Cat was the first female costumed hero, predating Wonder Woman by a few months. If I ever get tons and tons of money to collect Golden Age comics, I long ago decided I'm going to start collecting the Black Cat. Well, lucky us, she's been updated for the '90s. And we all know what that means. Ladies, I can hear our collective groans from here. Yes, "the number one family name in comics," as Harvey's scion Alan brags to us, has decided to give us "a new Black Cat, sexier... than ever." Oh boy, just what we needed - one more chick in a badgirl costume. And as enjoyable as the writing may be, and it is - Mark Evanier is never better than when he writes about his beloved Hollywood - I just couldn't make it past the costume and the distorted anatomy... But some background. The new Black Cat is going to be stuntwoman extraordinaire Kim Stone, who appears fairly normal when she's not dressed up. She's always admired and wanted to be like the Black Cat, and it looks like she's going to get her chance now. See, some dreams do come true in Hollywood. We're also introduced to supporting characters Carmen Farr (the star of the Black Cat movie for which Kim is doing the stunt work), Teddy the director, Mrs. Graham the landlady, and Emile the costume designer. Emile happens to be gay (Mark works a nice line into his thought balloons that clues us in), but I'm sure Mark isn't playing to stereotypes by not only making him Kim's costume designer but setting him up to be attacked, possibly killed. I trust Evanier's writing more than that. I hope. So, the costume. And the body. There's a scene in which Emile is getting Kim into the costume where he says, of the waistline, "I have to take this seam in!" It wouldn't have been necessary if Pod-Anderson hadn't drawn Kim's waist smaller than her thighs. I adore Murphy Anderson, and wonder what happened to his grasp of anatomy here. A woman's waist is never smaller than her thigh. Why is this suddenly such a difficult concept to grasp? Emile then says, "I did what I could with the design. Obviously, it was designed for her by a man," "her" presumably meaning the original Black Cat, who never wore this particular design?, or the actress Farr? I was unclear here. In any case, nobody in the Golden Age would have worn this shmata. Okay, maybe the fishnets. But a completely bare back, and two strips of cloth that form triangles upward from the waist and not only impossibly cover some of her breasts (and, of course, every time she leans over she looks like she's falling out... oh goody, fashion tips from whoever designed Julie Louis-Dreyfuss' outfit at this year's Oscars) but - get this - come to points at around the shoulder area. Her boots come to points in the front too. I realize the design is done to correspond to the points formed by the new mask (which I do like, it'll help hold back her long red hair when she gets into fights), but honestly. She's more liable to stab herself with those points than anyone else. I hate costumes that look uncomfortable. I hate drawings of women with impossible anatomy. But I love Murphy Anderson, and I like Mark Evanier's writing. I'm lost. Help meee....... After the 8-page intro story we're treated to two Golden Age tales of the original Black Cat, which were fun if a bit uneven (and of course I had to cringe at the panel with Woo Sung, the less said about that the better), a biography of Alfred Harvey replete with photos, and a Sad Sack anti-union story set in medieval times (don't ask). The other new entry in this first issue from Lorne-Harvey Publications is a 5-page intro of the new Shock Gibson, in a story entitled "Like a Bolt From the Blue" Writer: R.A. Jones Despite the fact that the villain, Allure, was, once more, impossibly dressed (but at least her waist was drawn larger than either of her thighs), and her facial features seemed slightly different in each closeup, I smiled at this from beginning to end. Pages 2-3 were especially dynamic. The writing is delicious ("You have the face and body of a god. You're truly a magnificent animal," then, sotto voce to her underlings, "Kill him."), the characters are interesting enough for me to want to get to know better (especially Gibson's sidekick/servant/??, Lotus) and I'm looking forward to future installments. I have no idea if this a monthly, a quarterly, or just a special. I wish Lorne-Harvey good luck in this era of a shrinking market. If they'd just let Murphy Anderson draw Kim Stone like a real woman, with a costume that made more sense, rather than the Lady Rawhide wannabe with a whip who "graces" this issue's front cover, they'd have a real winner and would please a whole lot of Golden Age fans out there. So, what did y'all think? NEW GODS #3 Writers: Tom Peyer and Rachel Pollack This Issue's Firesign Line: "...hand-picked by naked little froggy native boys in their tight leather aprons..." Here's what I thought... Issues of race and racism have been on my mind a lot lately. The OJ verdict. The Million Men march. The Indians vs. the Braves in the Series. The continuing Newtification and stratification of the country. It's kind of hard to ignore them, despite the best efforts of certain parties without a conscience to try. So what struck me most about this issue of NEW GODS was the way all the gods shown in the Celestial City (I saw but one exception) are white, and all the "Primitives" (the gods on the ground) are non-white. And the Sky Gods are fully clothed and helmed (well, some of the female Sky Gods wear skimpy outfits, but this is my racism rant, not my sexism one) and the Primitives (except for Mother Herrae) are pretty much nekkid. And the Sky Gods act like buttheads and the Primitives act all noble and self-sacrificing. And I don't know if any of this is intentional. In fact, I'm sure it isn't. But it just struck me, is all. Metron, still pissed that he didn't get access to the Source, retrieves Orion from deep space and Boom Tubes back to New Genesis, where they seem to be re-enacting the Golden Calf scene from The Ten Commandments. Everyone's in a foul mood - Lightray's pouting and blinding people, Metron's baring teeth, even Highfather is scowling as he realizes the Source has been tainted and tries to figure out how to rectify matters. Highfather seals himself off to search for clues as Orion searches for Highfather in turn. Lightray catches up to apologize, but Orion will have none of it, and shows Lightray his True Face (the one with the big ol' glowing red dot embedded into it, until Mother Box pings it away). Lightray runs, and Orion notes that "it's already too late" to fix matters, as he glances down in surprise at whatever is growing out of his left hip. On the ground, Izaya's protective bubble is set upon by a Primitive with talons and blue dots above his eyebrows, who accuses the Sky Gods of bringing "the plague" that's killing their people. Highfather dispatches him promptly, and may have even killed him, as evidenced by the blood on the Celestial Staff. Who's the primitive again? Izaya then decides to stick around and spy a bit. "These people, these Primitives, are gods no less than those of us in the Celestial City. My staff will cloak me against discovery - and infection." And, while you're at it, I'm sure there are some White House staffers who'd be only too happy to loan you a few rubber gloves as well. Highfather is discovered, and Fzzaak's the Primitives who try to attack his all-white bubble. After which he momentarily vascillates between racist instincts and liberal guilt. Thank goodness there's a proverbial old hermit to consult. K'Zander is far from pleasant company, but Highfather dirties and lowers himself to behold the vision the Oracle shows him of himself destroying the Source... I don't know what's worse, a bunch of white gods whooping it up or a bunch of white gods feeling sorry for themselves. I didn't get a sense at all of the agony K'Zander was supposed to be feeling as he prophesied for Izaya - and what would a planet of gods whose primary oracle is the Source be doing with a backup in the first place? When a bunch of Image-drawn naked babes evoke more sympathy than much-beloved Kirby characters, I can't help thinking Something's Wrong. It will be interesting to see what's fixed and what isn't. So, what did y'all think? STARMAN #14 Writer: James Robinson This Issue's Firesign Line: "Well, all this blarney's not puttin' anybody in jail!" Here's what I thought... I thought it was a wonderful idea for Robinson to have different pencillers work on different O'Dares and other citizens of the Opal. The writing, inking and coloring help keep things consistent, while giving a different enough angle on each scene so that you get a feel for the jarring, chaotic nature of the new Mist's handiwork this day. Just one interjection before the can't-she-write-them-briefer-yet? plot synopsis: How do people like the Mist recruit all their underlings? I've always wondered about stuff like this. Do they take out ads? How do they keep the hired help in line? What are the benefits and dental plan? Okay, enough light stuff, back to the action. I found Barry O'Dare's disjointed story to be the most fascinating. He appears to be the only O'Dare who isn't a cop. He doesn't want to get involved. He's smiling on page 1, at 10:23am. ("Of course, you know that by 12:00pm it's allll going to change," Robinson winks at us.) He's not smiling on page 14, at 9:11pm. And by 9:50pm, watching his car get totalled by debris from a bombed highrise, he's apprehensive. Or nonchalant. It's real hard to tell. He's enigmatic and losing himself in a crowd. "Why he came here, he can't say." Neither does Robinson. This was the biggest "hmm" of the whole issue for me. Other paths are clearer. Patriarch Clarence O'Dare (how old is Stuart Immonen?) finds his day and evening are shot to hell as he and his partner deal with an outbreak of robberies. Mason, the youngest male (is Andrew Robinson related to James?) foils an attempted hostage-taking armed with his six-shooter, the element of surprise and bravado. Matt O'Dare, the cop on the take, has a vision which changes him, and he turns on his drug lord friends. (This scene will probably be the one speculated on the most - from the identity of the vision to the compliments I must extend James Robinson on the wonderfully funny dialogue wherein the thugs compare and contrast Sondheim musicals.) And Hope O'Dare (pardon me if I spring a "Yay, Amanda!" in here, it's so great to see Conner's dynamic art again) engages in a rooftop shootout, which is abruptly ended by... See, I don't have to give it all away, do I? :) The two scenes I found, and was supposed to find, the most poignant appear back to back (and I'm not sure that was a good idea, literarily; I would have placed another O'Dare scene in between them to space them out a bit for better impact) concern non-O'Days, two "ordinary" Opal denizens, and the tragedies that befall them. Widower Tony Florence loses his apartment and late wife's piano in a fire, but regains his soul and compassion by saving a neighbor's pet. Widow and new mother Lucy Collins just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time as the nurse to the Mist's fourth victim, Red Bailey. And we see the Mist in one panel only during this book, apologizing to Lucy for having to kill her for having seen too much, cluing us in, sort of, only... everything's still just out of our grasp. Like she is. Like Lucy's life is. Chaotic, frenetic, tightly woven - the best comic of the week. Next month show's us Mikaal's day (and, presumably, Grundy's?). James Robinson is looking to regain some childhood memories of anime (Japanese animation programs) he saw during his four years in Australia. I'm clueless, except I remember TOBOR THE 8 MAN too, and it still creeps me out slightly. If you have the issue's letter column in front of you, and know the answers to his questions, feel free to E-mail him, I suppose. So, what did y'all think? THE POWER OF SHAZAM #10 Writer: Jerry Ordway This Issue's Firesign Line: "The one with the ever-widening hole in it!" Here's what I thought... I thought it strained credulity more than a bit, but it was a lot of fun. I like the fact that Billy/Captain Marvel was nowhere in this issue (except as a cross-ref to UNDERWORLD UNLEASHED), and that Mary's being referred to as "a Captain Marvel." The whole Tawky Tawny thing is weirding me out, though. I'm not an original CM fan, so this is all... just a bit much for me. I could also wish for more consistent art, especially on Mary's face. Something about the inking bothers me, but I'm still learning about inking so I can't really put my finger on it. But it's a fun ride, and well written. And having Ordway do Shazam's backstory was a total treat artwise. Writing- wise... well, we find out that Blaze is actually Shazam's daughter. Seems the females in that particular demonic family like to disguise themselves as human, then bed males who have been given great power in order to corrupt them further and harness the power for themselves. Those wacky dames. We find out that the old wizard was the first of the Marvels, having been given the strength of Voldar, the wisdom of Lumium, the speed of Arel, the power of Ribalvei, the courage of Elbiam and the stamina of Marzosh. Hmm, VLAREM, VLAREM... nope, I just don't get it. :) I'm sure someone will break out their mythology books and let me know if these are real gods. And I like the first Marvel's costume, but I could wish for a bit more billowy wind to blow up that skirt, woo-hoo. :) Anyway, Blaze is pissed at Daddy. She tortures him in the hopes of getting her claws on his Rock of Eternity, wherein he has placed the Three Faces of Evil. (Why am I suddenly thinking of Joanne Woodward?) We also learn definitively that Shazam's power is responsible for slowing down time in Fawcett City, and that Blaze is of course the one who brought back the new Black Adam. Meanwhile, Tawny has led Mary to the subway station, although he can't pass through the holograms... er, diaphragms... er, hieroglyphs (sorry, I'm only supposed to do one Firesign ref per book), and he's found by Uncle Dudley, who buys the tiger a drink. Happens every day. Mary's journey through the dimensional portal into the Wizard's home is very well done. She sees the Seven Deadly Enemies have escaped. No Wizard. She uses the Historama-by-Popiel, which we like to call the Clapper, to find out Shazam's being held by that weird jackal-headed woman with her eyes akimbo (sorry again, no more Firesign refs, I promise). She looks in the Wizard's spell book, calling on the Elders to help her deciper it (good for her!). It's opened to a little ditty he likes to call "resurrection of the dead." The tiger has filled Dudley in on The Plot So Far and, so besotted with information and strong drink, Dudley agrees to help Mary by finding something behind a picture of a bird (an old poster advertising the Stork Club). Mary creates a whole, wherein sits... an Egyptian sarcaphabus with a blowing scepter. What can it mean? Next issue: "All three Marvels back in action alongside Bulletman, the rampage of the Seven Deadly Sins, the mystery of Tawky Tawny solved, Fawcett's strange secret revealed, Black Adam reunited with his sister, and the most powerful hero in Fawcett City's history!" I'm exhausted just thinking about it. Talk about moving into high gear. So, what did y'all think? HELLBLAZER #96 Writer: Paul Jenkins This Issue's Firesign Line: "But this is a bag of shit!" Here's what I thought... Well, when we left John, he'd just come face to face with John. Constantine created a fake simulcrum (as if there could be a real simulcrum... but this one comes close) of himself to throw Buer off the trail. Paul gives us a lot of very nice exposition on pages 6 and 7, for those of us who might have had trouble following the intricacies of this storyline. Basically, what he's done was put all the garbage from himself, "the naughty bits" containing the demon blood and - in an interesting twist that John mentions later - his love for Kit, sealed the mess with the help of poor old Crowley hisself, and there you are. Meanwhile, the First of the Fallen waits on a rock to collect his prize, Constantine's soul. And who's to say the bag of shit isn't John's soul, after all? ;) Buer knows he's screwed, and he agrees to give up all the children's souls he's swiped so Shit-Constantine won't do away with himself. Buer knows the First's gonna be mighty pissed when he finds out he's been rooked, and seeks to prevent the inevitable even to the point of releasing Astra, at last. Shit-Constantine, however, decides to fuck with the First anyway, and kills himself. Yep, the First is pissed. The First takes out his anger on Buer, after almost calling him a stupid, stupid rat creature. He can't do shit to Real-Constantine, although he's going to do real nasty to Shit-Constantine. He whines a bit about how awful it is to be mortal (tell us about it), tries to tempt John one more time and, when John refuses, flips him the bird and leaves. All's well that ends well - except for Ellie. As Paul had to remind me last night, because I'm thick as a brick and can never keep all these characters straight, Ellie (if I understand him correctly) was the demon who originally fell in love with that angel, and (at the beginning of this storyline, I guess) disguised herself as Astra so as to get at the First on John's behalf. Well, now that the First is back in hell, raising... well, raising you-know-what - it's gotten worse for Ellie, and she blames John. Can't win for losing, don'tcha know. "Two hours in, and already I've started to bugger it up," John laments. Guess there's still a little shit left in him, after all.Paul Jenkins' macabre sense of humor is a delight to read, and the art and especially the colors in this series have been extremely effective and jarring. I thought the inking a bit heavy and dark, especially on the First, but hey, we're talking devil here, it's not like I expect him to be all red or electric green or something. ;) But overall, mostly because of the writing, this was a very satisfying conclusion. And I loved the scene with the children's souls finally escaping and being at peace. So, what did y'all think? CHIAROSCURO: The Private Lives of Leonardo
da Vinci Writers: Dave Rawson and Pat McGreal This Issue's Firesign Line: "This is the portrait gallery... the safest room in the mansion." Here's what I thought... There are villains you love to hate, and villains you hate to hate. Salai, Leonardo da Vinci's ward and companion, definitely falls into the latter category. I couldn't bring myself to do a review of issue #5 of this book, I was so furious at what Salai was doing to the mind (and body) of poor, alcoholic dwarf Crazy Catherine. He's a selfish, manipulative user, a total bastard, and it just gets worse and worse. We open with Salai continuing his tale of himself and Leonardo still at Mantua, at the behest of Isabella D'Este Gonzaga. Salai refers to their sojourn in Mantua as "quite short and very uneventful," but we know better. Leonardo and Isabella are still making googoo eyes at each other, and Salai (neglected, bored and a right bastard, if you'll recall) tries to make the court painter, Andrea Mantegna, jealous - it doesn't work. He takes out his anger on Catherine - the less I have to recount these couple pages, the calmer I'll remain for the rest of this review. It seems the master of the house, the Marquis Gianfrancesco Gonzaga, has returned from the battles with France, to find Leonardo sketching his wife in preparation for painting her portrait (which we have come to know, five centuries later, as the Mona Lisa). Gian's not thrilled, although he gives Isabella permission to screw the old man if she wants to, and takes possession of a sketch of her which Leonardo shows him - not for sentimental reasons, but to use as future barter. Salai puts Catherine up to lying to Gian about Isabella and Leonardo, but Gian isn't buying it - he sees Salai skulking in the background and knows who's behind the scheme. He informs Salai he'd better get Leonardo out of Mantua pronto, or "I'll cut your dick off and stuff it down your throat." Can I provide the knife? Given more incentive to break up the cozy twosome, Salai overhears them discussing plans for Leonardo to finish the preliminaries on Isabella's portrait. That evening, he moves his plot into action, first visiting Isabella in her private quarter and warning her that Leonardo will never finish this latest project because of his bad work habits, then informing his master that Isabella's just using him to get her hands on the portrait. The partial truth behind much of what Salai says gives his words more weight than they ought to have, and suspicion is thus sown more deeply. Time to move to Phase II, which will involve making Catherine do the dirty work. Salai sweet-talks her with such bon mots as "I've done so much for you. Opened your eyes to the intrinsic pointlessness of your existence..." then slaps her around a bit - what girl could resist? Catherine does, and we cheer. Gian's words about the future dickless wonder have emboldened her, and Salai is left muttering (and looking like a) "shit" as he realizes he's going to have to make his own bed to lie in this time. And he does - late at night he steals the preliminary portrait from Leonardo's (and his) room and puts it in Isabella's. Leonardo's furious, and (as Salai holds a sword to Catherine's throat lest she spill the beans) has it out with Isabella, who's also furious. Pleased with his deception, the "present" time Salai tells his unseen sculptor, "The old fart's perceptive. I'll give that to him, at least. It didn't take much for him to see right through her." Only the machinations of a shit. On the road again, Leonardo despairs of retaining the portrait. Salai tries to talk him into destroying it, but it's all he has to remember her by. Salai's furious - nobody will remember him, after all (nor should they, the bastard). Of course, he's wrong - an elder da Vinci does, in between horrid dreams of drowning babies and horses and monsters... This is powerful stuff, but I could wish for stronger inking at times. We do see anger on people's faces now and again, but I don't really "read" the fear on Salai's face when Gian threatens him, and I should think he'd be sore afraid at that point - after all, his genitals are his greatest power. But for the most part, the art fits the mood - for instance, when Catherine is being threatened, we see her scream in the foreground and Salai smirk in the background. He smirks a lot. I'm looking forward to seeing the smirk wiped from his face permanently, and I'm glad that Catherine's free of him now. So, what did y'all think? THE INCREDIBLE HULK #436 Writer: Peter David This Issue's Firesign Line: "Do your worst, Chief! Your future unemployment depends on it!" Here's what I thought... New penciller Medina makes his presence known very quickly by showing us a still-too-buxom Betty Banner, just out of the shower but with nail polish intact, in a ratty robe and Thing slippers, reaching for the morning paper as she's suddenly surrounded by heavy artillery. Of course, all that will change by 12:00... no wait, that's another comic. Betty does the only thing We Gals can apparently think to do in such a tense situation - she rips open her robe and gives the soldiers a free look, stunning them all long enough to give her time to slam her door before they break it in, and to place a frantic call to Bruce. I believe this is known as the Sharon Stone Method of self-defense. Who's behind the soldiers? Talbot. Matt Talbot, that is. Betty's ex-nephew-in-law or something like that. He calls his dogs off from beating on Betty so he can slap her. Lots of woman-slapping going on at Marvel these days, I hear. The neighbors gather to watch the Banners' house being occupied as Max, the old geezer at the garage where Bruce works, tries to talk Bruce out of coming to her rescue. "They want you to charge in after her!" he pleads. The Hulk stays his hand for the moment, and calls the cops. Which, in this town, means Chief Largo, who warns Talbot that he'll be back, or words to that effect. The standoff continues, and it gets more personal, as Matt snarls and reminisces. A few more pages of waiting in the hot sun with no a.c., and Matt's had it. He takes Betty outside and has her shot. In the leg. I guess this is supposed to make the earlier slap look good by comparison. Bruce is as pissed as we are, ignores Max completely and takes off like... er, like a shot. Hits the roof; Hulk smash roof. He's incoming. He battles the Hulkbusters. Nasty stuff. But he's not beaten - until Talbot fires a second bullet into Betty. In the other leg. Hulk tips over to the crazed end, and the failsafe kicks in. As he loses all reason, Puny Banner emerges and is easily subdued. His job ended, Talbot assures Betty the bullets were "just stun pellets," that "the skin breakage and bleeding is minor at best, and the paralysis will wear off eventually." She spits on him. So do I. Meanwhile, we see a couple alien-looking guys with huge, bulbous green heads lurking in the subplot. One is named Omnibus. I think the other's the Leader. I like the idea of Bruce not getting totally nutzoid until the woman he loves is in apparent danger. I don't like what Betty's gone through this issue. I'd hate Talbot just fine without this crap he's put her through. The art is certainly serviceable and dynamic, the colors are used to good effect, and the panel layouts are nice. New readers should take note that this is a good, as they say, "jumping-on point," as a new storyline (and, apparently, direction) begins. So, what did y'all think? Writer: Kurt Busiek This Issue's Firesign Quote: "We're one of you, and you're one of us, I think." Here's what I thought... I thought, for as many people working on this comic, especially on the art end of things, it should have been much, much better than it was. Say what you will about Image - and you will, I've done it too - I do try to give them the benefit of the doubt when it comes to new titles. And even though I realize this is a spinoff of some team or other created by Mark Silvestri in which I had no interest, still, it's a female speedster and it's written by Kurt Busiek. So my husband plunked down the $2.50. The plot is real textbook standard, but briefly: Okay, Velocity's this kid named Carin with red hair, a white face with a green lightning bolt painted (?) down the right side of it, and a hellow and green costume. She's in "Cyberforce - a group of cybernetically enhanced super-powered mutants" which also includes such jolly handles as Ripclaw and Heatwave. There's a monster on the loose named, alternately, Charnel and Chamel (very sloppy proofreading, there) who's killing muties, or freaks, or metas, or whatever they're called in the Image Universe, and presumably absorbing their powers, even to the extent of being able to morph into duplicates of them (he can do this after just scraping the DNA off superfolks). And Velocity is still hung up over the fact that her powers are pretty useless, especially compared to her sister Cassie, who totes big guns and doesn't have the problem with killing that Carin does. Nothing to write home about, typical standard plot, competently written (although I should warn y'all not to expect another ASTRO CITY here :) ) - but I want to talk about the art. Okay, Rule #1 that they ought to teach you in every damn life-drawing and anatomy class in the world. Lissen up carefully, would-be artists everywhere: A woman's waist is never smaller than her thigh. Got that? Never. You can have the waspiest, most anorexic waist in the world, and your thighs will be toothpicks. You can have big, strong thighs, and your waist will have to support the rest of your strong torso. But you can't have a waist smaller than either of your thighs. Now, take a ruler and measure the two on the cover of VELOCITY #1. Or the full figure at the bottom of panel 1 on page 5. Something's really off. So I got to thinking, why? I mean, besides the fact that this distorted view of what a woman ought to look like is probably fodder for teenboy, er, fantasies. What would give it logical, internally consistent sense? And then I noticed something else very interesting on pp. 4 and 5 of this issue. These are the standard "townsfolk get enraged over muties, people fear what they don't understand" pages. And I'm looking at the muties, and I'm looking at the townspeople. And it suddenly occurs to me, the townspeople are drawn to approximate actual human beings - they have different body types, but they're all logically drawn the way human beings would look in Real Life. So, like, the artist can draw "real" people if he wants to. And the first panel of page 5 shows the townspeople up top facing off against the metas at bottom... and the latter are freaks. Especially Velocity, who stands forward a little from the rest of them. So something really, really tragic is going on when the real-looking people are presented as the bad guys (or, at the very least, the ones who "know not what they do") and the anatomically-distorted people are idealized as the heroes. Something that says to us on a very subtle level that it's no longer possible to emulate heroes, because not only don't we have these kewl powers (which was never as much a reason to emulate them in the first place as were things like courage and a sense of justice) but being like them, especially if you're female, would be more of a physical impossibility than looking like the typical airbrushed anorexic cover girl or supermodel - so why bother wanting to be heroic at all? It's impossible for me to feel sympathy for or identify with a woman whose body has this essential, illogical Wrongness about it. I identify with the people in the upper half of the panel - I care more about what happens to their town than what happens to people with no sense to the way they're drawn. The only panel in which a full-figure Velocity looks halfway correct to me is the first one on page 7 - if they were all drawn that way, I'd be halfway tempted to pick up the second issue of this. But these kinds of dynamic, active panels are few and far between. Velocity does not exist, artistically, to act, but to be observed. As long as she's drawn that way, no matter how well Busiek may write her, she remains an object and not a subject to this reader. And that ain't why I buy comics. *plonk* So, what did y'all think? EXCALIBUR #92 Writer: Warren "New Daddy" Ellis This Issue's Firesign Line: "Kak vwee padoomityeh a nashyeh gorodyeh?" Here's what I thought... Warren Ellis seemed upset that I'd never reviewed anything he'd written, and him being a new father and all I just felt obligated. This one's for you, my little liebchen, object of my stalkings. ;) (inside joke, folks) Okay, it's been a long time since I've read an X book (since Peter David's stint on X-FACTOR and, before that, since the days of POWER PACK when the New Mutants and others would cross over). But usually that's okay with a Marvel book, because you do tend to get a lot of backstory and exposition - Marvel seems to realize, on some level, that every book may be a reader's first. And I have a passing acquaintance with Kitty (wow, she's, like, older now, isn't she? ;) ) and Muir Island and Rahne and Colossus and Nightcrawler. Don't know from Meggan, Amanda, Brian or Dougie; and is that, um, Moira with the specs? Gee, guess it is. Like I said, a passing aquaintance. So I had to judge the book on its own merits, without a lot of background or continuity knowledge. I must say, Warren turns a nice phrase. "The stink of teleportation" indeed - yes, I imagine if teleportation existed in real life it would leave some kind of odor. Good touch. "Like being punched in the face by God." This is fun writing. I love little bits like Moira dropping a taurine pill - I'm sure it gave her a nice shiny coat. :) And the angst level is kept to a believable minimum, vying in equal parts with justified anger and logical discourse. All in all, a lovely comic, even if they did need four inkers??? to finish the thing. Logically proportionate, fully clothed bodies abound, which is a pleasure, and I'd certainly recommend this book to the younger set as well as older fogies like myself. Thanks for "making" me pick it up, Warren - I may just try a second issue now! :) So, what did y'all think? Creator and Editor: Sarah Dyer This Issue's Firesign Line: "You boys excuse me, I have to powder my knees." Here's what I thought... Ahh, this is the first time I force myself to sit and review ACTION GIRL, one of my favorite concepts. I didn't say "one of my favorite comics" because, frankly, it isn't. I love the fact that Sarah's doing this and all these women are contributing, but most of the entries aren't really my cuppa tea. Which is fine, because a lot of it is still Stuff I Like. I think most of the jarring effect comes from the fact that I tend to enjoy the more "standard" art that's found in most (=gasp=) superhero-genre comics. But hey, I like BONE and PATTY CAKE and stuff like that too, so I'm not entirely immune to the charms of more stylized stuff. And this issue starts off great, with Leidy's reminiscences of being in love with Godzilla as a child. Her rendering of the terror of Tokyo is spot-on, and it's a fun little story. I especially like how she draws herself as a sort of "typical" manga character in the last panel, admiring the big lizard's handiwork (or footiwork, as the case may be), and how she drew little tiny representations of Evan Dorkin and Sarah Dyer as scared Japanese residents in one panel. Hee. (Leidy also did the cover, which elicits quite the smile as well.) "Triple Lutz" was incomprehensible. Thank goodness it's only one page. "The Woman Who Was a Bird" is terrific and quiet and very, very sad. It's quite a lovely little Caribbean folk tale, although I think I may have missed the point (it might be that woman shouldn't grow metaphoric wings because their men will only shoot them down, but I'm not certain). The best "serious" story of the issue. Amanda Lewis more than fulfills the "sick" quotient with a strange tale of college, popcorn and a "talking" hamster. I laughed out loud. I love Carolyn Ridsdale's Fishface - she's the coolest. Sarah gave this entry the most space of the issue, and it's not hard to see why; Ridsdale's art strikes me as the most "polished" of the bunch. And you can't go wrong with a Hitler plot, I always say! :) The Indefatigable Gwen, the protagonist of "Marketing," is another character I wouldn't mind seeing return. We could all use a little more anti-consumerism in our lives! A nice, clean art style, too. I'm afraid "Scary Biscuits" was also incomprehensible to me. And it's also only one page. ACTION GIRL keeps rolling along, and getting better. No matter what your chromosomal makeup, you owe it to yourself to try at least one issue; chances are very good you'll find at least one item that makes you laugh or cry or think. God, I'm turning into such a quote whore... So, what did y'all think? [If you'd like to tell Elayne what you thought of any of the above reviews, feel free to write her and tell her off-- er, I mean, tell her whatever. These reviews are copyright 1995 Elayne Wechsler-Chaput and are reprinted with permission from the Usenet rec.arts.comics.* newsgroups. No portion of the pictures, descriptions or accounts may be-- no, wait, that's baseball.] |
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