Last September, after months of dwindling interest and dropped titles, I gave up on reading any of DC's New 52 series. It's been nearly a full year since then, and I have yet to return to that line of comics. I've continued to follow some Vertigo series, and I read all six issues of Batman Black and White, so it's not as if DC hasn't been getting any of my money. But as far as the in-continuity, mainline, shared universe superhero/superhero adjacent titles, I've stayed insistently away all this time.
Have I missed the DC characters at all? I suppose so, but not any more than I missed them already. What I mean is, not very many DC books felt to me like they captured what I liked about their main characters in the first place. They were altered, watered down, and/or completely new takes on old characters, and most of them never clicked for me. Batman was stubbornly incompetent, the Earth 2 characters were being rebuilt from scratch, Wonder Woman was a passive non-entity, Green Arrow was...I don't know what the fuck was going on with Green Arrow. So even though it was a drag not to have any of these characters in my life for the past year, it was a drag when they were in my life, too, since they were lame, uninteresting versions of themselves.
As an obsessive follower of comicbook news, I have of course stayed loosely tapped into the goings-on of the New 52, through the articles and reviews and interviews and such that over-populate this lovely Internet of ours. I'm vaguely aware of Future's End and its destined-to-be-undone future setting. There's a new Batman in it, right, who's really Shazam or someone like that? I don't have the details, but if there's one thing I do know...it's that the Grayson one-shot tie-in issue has been generally well-received, perhaps the best so far of all the 3D cover tie-ins being released this month. Oh, and that reminds me, I know that Dick Grayson gave up his Nightwing persona to become a spy of some kind. I know that Wonder Woman and Superman are a couple now, and that he generally overshadows her in their shared book. I know that Infinity Man and the Forever People is for some inexplicable reason an ongoing title being published by DC right now. I'm sure there are things I've missed or forgotten, and certainly my refusal to actually read any New 52 material keeps me out of many loops, but I do have one ear to the ground, still, waiting for a reason to come back. Finally, after an entire year, I think DC may have given me one: Gotham Academy.
I am far from the only person excited about this title. I'm probably one of the late-comers to the anticipation bandwagon. The first couple times I saw the name Gotham Academy mentioned anywhere, I glanced over it without really letting it sink in or paying attention to the creators involved. It was just another Bat-family book in my mind, a needless addition to what was already the biggest part of the New 52 line. Little by little, though, the buzz started to seep through: Becky Cloonan's name caught my eye, then I was interested by the fact that the cast is comprised of new characters, and finally I got my head out of my ass long enough to really take in the splendor of Karl Kerschl's art for the series, and I was fully sold at last. It looks promising, exciting, and fresh, and it doesn't seem like it'll be too deeply wrapped up in all the events and nonsense of the rest of the New 52niverse, so it's got just enough appeal for me to break my fast and sample one of DC's latest dishes.
This isn't the start of a big, sweeping return to DC for me, or at least I don't think it is. Even if Gotham Academy shoots straight to the top of my list of favorite series, that's no reason to read anything else DC is putting out. I am cautiously hopeful, though, that this title will live up to its hype and potential, and if it does...who knows? Grayson is written by Tim Seeley, who I tend to like. Arkham Manor, which is the other new Bat-book coming out soon, sounds alright. And after a whole year away, there are plenty of new creative teams working on books I ditched way back when: Swamp Thing, Green Arrow, Earth 2, Red Lanterns (which, like...what? Why has that survived?). Maybe it's time to give it another go.
On the other hand, a year isn't really that long. I stopped reading the New 52 on the heels of their last anniversary 3D cover gimmick, and here we are again. Futures End sounds like a big mess, and a boring one at that. So basically it seems like it's just as bad as most recent DC crossovers, no matter how big or small. These comics are still doing the same things as a group, so the New 52—which I'm led to believe no longer consists of 52 titles no matter how you slice it—is just as unattractive to me on the whole as it was when I bailed. Gotham Academy isn't necessarily the deciding factor as to my future relationship with the New 52, but if it rocks my world, I'd admittedly be more likely to give something else a taste.
Showing posts with label DC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DC. Show all posts
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Friday, September 20, 2013
Dial E: My Last New 52 Comic for a While
Two years back, I was pretty excited by the New 52. I didn't believe all of the hype, but enough of it to pick up about 1/4 of the original 52 books. I appreciated the bravery of starting everything over again, and at first it seemed like there was a genuine effort on DC's part to have some variety in their titles, which I also liked. Sadly, as time has passed, I've grown ever more disillusioned with the line. Of course all the rumblings of editorial interference and subsequent turnover of creative teams factors into my opinion, but I began dropping DC books even before that kind of news seemed to come out every week. I didn't like the series themselves—they were dry and uninspired, they made decisions about the characters that made no sense and served no purpose, and I just didn't find myself looking forward to reading them. Also they began to feel more homogenous, and it quickly became clear that DC had not actually started everything anew as they claimed—some series got fresh beginnings, while others tried to have their cake and eat it, too, keeping some details of DC's past while ignoring others in sometimes contradictory ways. One by one, these comics were cut from my pull list, and I tried to find replacements (even reading the first few issues of the entire "second wave") but nothing they offered held my interest for long.
Except for Dial H. I already wrote about it on PopMatters, so I won't delve too deeply into why that book above all others was one I stuck with, but suffice it to say it wasn't like anything else coming out of DC or, to the best of my knowledge, any other publisher. It had the same looming darkness that seems to cover the entirety of the New 52 like a sticky film, but Dial H managed to have a lot of fun, too. It was full of puns, and its main characters were a likably pathetic doofus and an elderly woman who still kicked ass. It felt fresh and daring, and while not all of the art was exceptional, and sometimes the story got hazy (especially toward the end when it had to be wrapped up before its cancellation), it was reliably quirky and silly and stimulating.
Which brings me to Dial E (technically Justice League #23.3 but I refuse to call it that and I always will). Published as part of the DC's current Villain's Month, Dial E is basically the punctuation mark at the end of the complex 15-issue sentence that was Dial H. And honestly, it's not a very good comicbook. It has a story but no plot, people but no characters, action but no stakes. Every page is drawn by a different artist, so that it functions more as a showcase than an actual narrative. It's incredibly disjointed, as the script amounts to writer China Miéville unloading all of the ideas for new super-people he didn't have room to fit into the main series. Point being, as a single issue, Dial E has very little merit. But taken as the final piece of the whole, it's sort of the perfect conclusion. Crazier and goofier than anything that came before it, this finale is the boldest, loudest example of the guiding spirit of Dial H, even if it's only tangentially connected to the actual narrative of that book.
As you can see, I didn't exactly love Dial E, but I was still sorry when I reached the final page. It marked the end of an era, not just because one of my favorite books is gone now. It's also the last New 52 comic I plan on buying for the foreseeable future. Having slowly but oh-so-surely let go of every other New 52 series I've tried in the last two years, Dial H was all I had left, and now they've gotten rid of it, and I see no concrete reason to start with anything else. There are a few titles that have solid reputations that I'd like to catch up on someday: Batman & Robin, All-Star Western, The Flash. But they're all minor additions to an enormous list of comics from many eras and publishers that I know I need to track down and read through, and I'm not nearly as interested in contemporary DC material as I am in basically anything else on said list.
So I'm done with the New 52 for now. Not with all of DC—Batman Black and White had a great first issue, Batman '66 has been wonderful, and I plan on heavily sampling the new stuff coming from Vertigo. But DC's main line of books can take a flying leap, for all I care. I've been so let down by it so consistently, and the pile of information about dissatisfied creators that keeps growing all the time does nothing to entice me back. I didn't make an official decision all at once to abandon the publisher, it happened organically as every series I tried to follow gave me one reason or another to drop it. With Dial E having come out on Wednesday, my pull list is void of New 52 titles. And I have to say...it looks a lot better that way.
Except for Dial H. I already wrote about it on PopMatters, so I won't delve too deeply into why that book above all others was one I stuck with, but suffice it to say it wasn't like anything else coming out of DC or, to the best of my knowledge, any other publisher. It had the same looming darkness that seems to cover the entirety of the New 52 like a sticky film, but Dial H managed to have a lot of fun, too. It was full of puns, and its main characters were a likably pathetic doofus and an elderly woman who still kicked ass. It felt fresh and daring, and while not all of the art was exceptional, and sometimes the story got hazy (especially toward the end when it had to be wrapped up before its cancellation), it was reliably quirky and silly and stimulating.
Which brings me to Dial E (technically Justice League #23.3 but I refuse to call it that and I always will). Published as part of the DC's current Villain's Month, Dial E is basically the punctuation mark at the end of the complex 15-issue sentence that was Dial H. And honestly, it's not a very good comicbook. It has a story but no plot, people but no characters, action but no stakes. Every page is drawn by a different artist, so that it functions more as a showcase than an actual narrative. It's incredibly disjointed, as the script amounts to writer China Miéville unloading all of the ideas for new super-people he didn't have room to fit into the main series. Point being, as a single issue, Dial E has very little merit. But taken as the final piece of the whole, it's sort of the perfect conclusion. Crazier and goofier than anything that came before it, this finale is the boldest, loudest example of the guiding spirit of Dial H, even if it's only tangentially connected to the actual narrative of that book.
As you can see, I didn't exactly love Dial E, but I was still sorry when I reached the final page. It marked the end of an era, not just because one of my favorite books is gone now. It's also the last New 52 comic I plan on buying for the foreseeable future. Having slowly but oh-so-surely let go of every other New 52 series I've tried in the last two years, Dial H was all I had left, and now they've gotten rid of it, and I see no concrete reason to start with anything else. There are a few titles that have solid reputations that I'd like to catch up on someday: Batman & Robin, All-Star Western, The Flash. But they're all minor additions to an enormous list of comics from many eras and publishers that I know I need to track down and read through, and I'm not nearly as interested in contemporary DC material as I am in basically anything else on said list.
So I'm done with the New 52 for now. Not with all of DC—Batman Black and White had a great first issue, Batman '66 has been wonderful, and I plan on heavily sampling the new stuff coming from Vertigo. But DC's main line of books can take a flying leap, for all I care. I've been so let down by it so consistently, and the pile of information about dissatisfied creators that keeps growing all the time does nothing to entice me back. I didn't make an official decision all at once to abandon the publisher, it happened organically as every series I tried to follow gave me one reason or another to drop it. With Dial E having come out on Wednesday, my pull list is void of New 52 titles. And I have to say...it looks a lot better that way.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Everything Rules Even Though Everything Sucks
My heart and my brain are arguing. Part of me feels reenergized by comics lately, but at the same time the world around their creation remains frustrating as ever. A lot of excellent stuff has been coming out recently, stories with new things to say and exciting, gorgeous artwork. On the whole, I'd say I am more excited by the books I'm following right now than I have been in a while. There aren't a lot of "I'm hanging in there and hoping this gets better" titles anymore, because there's less and less room for them on a list that gets increasingly more reliable in its quality. Part of that is the constant gradual growth in my own ability to discern what appeals to me before it comes out, but I also have a strong sense that right now is a time where an exceptionally large number of strange, singular, and beautiful books exist. If you look across all the innumerable publishers out there, you can find a surprisingly large number of gems, unique and dazzling and worth the hunt.
But wow, there's still a lot to be bummed out about when it comes to the industry side of things. I guess it's just that the very fact that Marvel and DC are such corporate, factory publishers only gets more depressing and aggravating with time. It never goes away or gets better in noticeable ways. For every apparent step forward, there's at least one back. And for all the excellent series out there, there are countless examples of dreck. I've only got three DC titles left that I'm reading, one of which just got canceled and the other lost its writer, so...we'll see. Marvel seems to be of higher quality overall, but based on what I've read, that's partially because I've given up entirely on events, so I'm not touching anything related to Age of Ultron. It's just an underwhelming, infuriating time to look at the comicbook world at large, because it is dominated by this pair of monstrous companies that do more to baffle, deceive, and piss of their readership than to deliver stories with heart or merit.
I am, obviously, speaking in vague terms here, avoiding examples or lengthy rants. Those are everywhere. Search for articles on gender in superhero comics or comics in general, the recent creative turnover at DC, reviews of Marvel's last several events, or comments on the industry as a whole. They're out there, written by people more in the thick of things than I. And I read them, and they get my blood boiling sometimes, and I even take action when possible, donating or otherwise backing something when it seems worthwhile. I do not engage in the comments section arguments because I don't have the energy, but I read them sometimes, too, and it never does anything but make my mood worse.
Then Wednesday rolls around, and I go to my local shop's new location, which is huge and impressive and I'm very happy for them to have had the opportunity to grow in this market. And they give me my folder full of new issues, which I get a great discount on, and I take them home and stack them from least to most anticipated. And more often than not, I have an excellent time, reading a short, sweet stack of books that starts out fine and finishes off great.
I wish there were more great series, read by more people. I wish The Big Two would get their heads in the game, think long-term, focus on stories and creators instead of sales bumps and stunts, respect women, abandon continuity and comics that "matter," give new ideas more support and room to grow, etc., etc., etc. There is no end of change to hope for, and work toward, by supporting the good titles and spreading the word. But I think maybe it's time to make my peace with a certain underlying level of frustration in exchange for the buzz I get when reading a truly great comicbook. It's possible to live in a world of mostly awesome comics, even if you've got to live in this world, too.
But wow, there's still a lot to be bummed out about when it comes to the industry side of things. I guess it's just that the very fact that Marvel and DC are such corporate, factory publishers only gets more depressing and aggravating with time. It never goes away or gets better in noticeable ways. For every apparent step forward, there's at least one back. And for all the excellent series out there, there are countless examples of dreck. I've only got three DC titles left that I'm reading, one of which just got canceled and the other lost its writer, so...we'll see. Marvel seems to be of higher quality overall, but based on what I've read, that's partially because I've given up entirely on events, so I'm not touching anything related to Age of Ultron. It's just an underwhelming, infuriating time to look at the comicbook world at large, because it is dominated by this pair of monstrous companies that do more to baffle, deceive, and piss of their readership than to deliver stories with heart or merit.
I am, obviously, speaking in vague terms here, avoiding examples or lengthy rants. Those are everywhere. Search for articles on gender in superhero comics or comics in general, the recent creative turnover at DC, reviews of Marvel's last several events, or comments on the industry as a whole. They're out there, written by people more in the thick of things than I. And I read them, and they get my blood boiling sometimes, and I even take action when possible, donating or otherwise backing something when it seems worthwhile. I do not engage in the comments section arguments because I don't have the energy, but I read them sometimes, too, and it never does anything but make my mood worse.
Then Wednesday rolls around, and I go to my local shop's new location, which is huge and impressive and I'm very happy for them to have had the opportunity to grow in this market. And they give me my folder full of new issues, which I get a great discount on, and I take them home and stack them from least to most anticipated. And more often than not, I have an excellent time, reading a short, sweet stack of books that starts out fine and finishes off great.
I wish there were more great series, read by more people. I wish The Big Two would get their heads in the game, think long-term, focus on stories and creators instead of sales bumps and stunts, respect women, abandon continuity and comics that "matter," give new ideas more support and room to grow, etc., etc., etc. There is no end of change to hope for, and work toward, by supporting the good titles and spreading the word. But I think maybe it's time to make my peace with a certain underlying level of frustration in exchange for the buzz I get when reading a truly great comicbook. It's possible to live in a world of mostly awesome comics, even if you've got to live in this world, too.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Robin, Robin, Red Robin, and Robin
On Wednesday, the current Robin died. Yesterday, I published my second "1987 And All That" column on The Chemical Box, about Max All Collins' revamp of the Jason Todd character, who would eventually become the first Robin to die. The pseudo-coincidental timing of this was unplanned (I committed to writing my Robin thing a couple months ago), but the result was that in the days leading up to the publication of my piece, I got to read a TON of other online articles about the Boy Wonder, exploring the character's history, purpose, necessity, and so forth. They were mostly good, often educational, and sometimes enlightening. But there was one thing that none of them touched upon*, and it's been worming around in my brain for the past couple days, so I thought I'd spew it out here:
Explaining the present state of Robin to anyone not currently reading comicbooks is a difficult and frustrating task.
In the New 52, Batman has had 4 Robins in five years. One of them has died and returned, and another is Batman's now-dead biological son. Neither of those two, however, is Dick Grayson, the Robin with whom most people are familiar (by origin story if not name). And the remaining guy isn't technically Robin but Red Robin, a mantle he's always used in the New 52 for reasons still unexplained. I'm losing myself a little in trying to summarize all of this, and I already know that I know what I mean.
I've had a couple of conversations with lapsed or non-readers about Batman's sidekick and how much turnover the position sees, and in general the response if bafflement ("Wait, which one is this?/How many are there, again?/Who is the son's mom? Talia what?"). Now, it's certainly not anyone's duty to make the history of the Robin role (or that of any ongoing character) easy to digest or understand, so I don't even think I'm complaining here. It's just something I have noticed and been reminded of in recent days. "Robin" now includes a complex, confusing, chronologically improbable legacy that has only been widened by the death of the most recent child to carry the name. Damien Wayne will now be replaced by a fifth kid, who I believe we already know is going to be a young woman, although that may just be Internet speculation. It's exciting, I suppose, to see who the newest Robin will turn out to be, but that doesn't make her addition to the greater Batman tapestry any less complicating. In an industry that needs fresh fan blood, a female Robin might potentially bring some in, which is great. Yet at the same time, every additional piece of the ever-expanding continuity puzzle means one more obstacle for any hypothetical new reader to overcome.
And it raises the question, in my mind, Why does Batman keep bringing in new Robins, anyway? Evidently it only takes like a year to graduate out of the job anymore, and now that there is a Batman, Inc. in place, including all of the previous Robins, the hiring of yet another short-term underaged personal assistant seems somewhat redundant. With the convoluted history surrounding Robin, maybe its time for DC to give it a bit of a rest, let Batman and his gaggle of former proteges handle things on their own for a while. Or maybe I am just zeroing in on a pointless detail that doesn't matter. Could be both.
*That I saw. If this was, in fact, covered elsewhere, my apologies for missing it and repeating the sentiment.
Explaining the present state of Robin to anyone not currently reading comicbooks is a difficult and frustrating task.
In the New 52, Batman has had 4 Robins in five years. One of them has died and returned, and another is Batman's now-dead biological son. Neither of those two, however, is Dick Grayson, the Robin with whom most people are familiar (by origin story if not name). And the remaining guy isn't technically Robin but Red Robin, a mantle he's always used in the New 52 for reasons still unexplained. I'm losing myself a little in trying to summarize all of this, and I already know that I know what I mean.
I've had a couple of conversations with lapsed or non-readers about Batman's sidekick and how much turnover the position sees, and in general the response if bafflement ("Wait, which one is this?/How many are there, again?/Who is the son's mom? Talia what?"). Now, it's certainly not anyone's duty to make the history of the Robin role (or that of any ongoing character) easy to digest or understand, so I don't even think I'm complaining here. It's just something I have noticed and been reminded of in recent days. "Robin" now includes a complex, confusing, chronologically improbable legacy that has only been widened by the death of the most recent child to carry the name. Damien Wayne will now be replaced by a fifth kid, who I believe we already know is going to be a young woman, although that may just be Internet speculation. It's exciting, I suppose, to see who the newest Robin will turn out to be, but that doesn't make her addition to the greater Batman tapestry any less complicating. In an industry that needs fresh fan blood, a female Robin might potentially bring some in, which is great. Yet at the same time, every additional piece of the ever-expanding continuity puzzle means one more obstacle for any hypothetical new reader to overcome.
And it raises the question, in my mind, Why does Batman keep bringing in new Robins, anyway? Evidently it only takes like a year to graduate out of the job anymore, and now that there is a Batman, Inc. in place, including all of the previous Robins, the hiring of yet another short-term underaged personal assistant seems somewhat redundant. With the convoluted history surrounding Robin, maybe its time for DC to give it a bit of a rest, let Batman and his gaggle of former proteges handle things on their own for a while. Or maybe I am just zeroing in on a pointless detail that doesn't matter. Could be both.
*That I saw. If this was, in fact, covered elsewhere, my apologies for missing it and repeating the sentiment.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Constantine & The Shadow: The Names Stay the Same, but Nothing Else Does
Roar.
Last night I read this. Ten minutes ago I read this. Now I'm all moody, grumbling and mumbling to myself.
I had been enjoying the hell out of Garth Ennis' take on The Shadow. I'm a fan of the old radio series, having innumerable episodes on cassette tape when I was a kid, and even though what Ennis was doing was a darker, more violent departure from that original show, it still worked for me. Lamont Cranston was perfectly smug, careful with his words, and brilliant. Margo Lane walked an interesting line between being a supporter of The Shadow and being kind of terrified by him. The villains were rich and nuanced, not even all on the same side as each other, but equally deserving of the titular hero's wrath. It was as much a war story as a spy story as a superhero one, equal parts noir, action, and political thriller. Not the greatest title I've ever read, not even something that blew me away, but definitely a strong, consistent book with a clear vision from talented creators that made me excited to see more.
Enter Victor Gischler as the new writer on The Shadow #7. I mean, booooooooooooo. Here we have an issue that pays such little attention to what preceded it that, for the first time ever, I actually would've preferred if they'd started the numbering over again with #1. Suddenly Cranston is a wordy, awkward narrator, crowding the pages with poorly-written expository caption boxes. Gone is any subtlety or pacing, replaced by rushed explanations that lead to uninteresting scenes. Margo Lane disappears and is replaced by the less-than-two-dimensional and less-than-two-eyed pilot Miles Crofton, whose only purpose in this issue is to spew out his entire background story in a single, unnatural burst of dialogue and then transport Cranston from place to place. Which, let's face it, could've been done by anybody. And the bad guy, Red Raja, is equally underdeveloped, little more than a handful of archetypes flung together and given powers similar to those of our hero. It's uninventive dreck, basically, and dreck which makes no attempt to reconcile itself with the decent comicbookery that came before, and it's going to result in me dropping a title for which I've had growing enthusiasm for months.
So that's bad enough.
Now I have to learn that DC is canceling it's longest-running (because of the relaunch) and arguably strongest series, Hellblazer, and replacing it with the New 52 version of the same character in a new book called Constantine.
This is the worst New 52-related decision to date.
Because here's the thing about the John Constantine of Justice League Dark: he has almost as little in common with his Vertigo counterpart as I have with a motherfucking chimera. I don't know why I chose that analogy, damn it, I'm just pissed!
Did anyone else read Justice League Dark #0? Talk about making me drop a title. I'd love to rant and rant and rant about it, but I know at least one person has already said it better than I ever could, so I'll sum it up this way: booooooooooooo. What's the point of naming a character John Constantine if you're just going to do whatever the hell you want with him? Is DC so afraid of trying to warm people to a new character that they really thought this was a smarter move? Or, even worse...does Jeff Lemire think that this is a strong interpretation of the character? Because it is not, and the last thing in the world I want to see is this new, watered-down version stepping in and replacing the Constantine I've grown to adore.
But that decision has already been made, so what can I do? Certainly I'll cherish the remaining handful of Hellblazer issues I get to buy, and continue to work through the extensive catalog of back issues with which I need to catch up, so it's not as if I personally will never again enjoy a new story about the real Constantine. And I can "vote with my wallet," as it were, by steadfastly refusing to pick up Constantine #1 (or any other issue of that insult of a title). And I can write this little tantrum and stick it on the Internet.
Changing everything about a character is the same as creating a new character. Stop pretending it isn't, comicbook industry.
Last night I read this. Ten minutes ago I read this. Now I'm all moody, grumbling and mumbling to myself.
I had been enjoying the hell out of Garth Ennis' take on The Shadow. I'm a fan of the old radio series, having innumerable episodes on cassette tape when I was a kid, and even though what Ennis was doing was a darker, more violent departure from that original show, it still worked for me. Lamont Cranston was perfectly smug, careful with his words, and brilliant. Margo Lane walked an interesting line between being a supporter of The Shadow and being kind of terrified by him. The villains were rich and nuanced, not even all on the same side as each other, but equally deserving of the titular hero's wrath. It was as much a war story as a spy story as a superhero one, equal parts noir, action, and political thriller. Not the greatest title I've ever read, not even something that blew me away, but definitely a strong, consistent book with a clear vision from talented creators that made me excited to see more.
Enter Victor Gischler as the new writer on The Shadow #7. I mean, booooooooooooo. Here we have an issue that pays such little attention to what preceded it that, for the first time ever, I actually would've preferred if they'd started the numbering over again with #1. Suddenly Cranston is a wordy, awkward narrator, crowding the pages with poorly-written expository caption boxes. Gone is any subtlety or pacing, replaced by rushed explanations that lead to uninteresting scenes. Margo Lane disappears and is replaced by the less-than-two-dimensional and less-than-two-eyed pilot Miles Crofton, whose only purpose in this issue is to spew out his entire background story in a single, unnatural burst of dialogue and then transport Cranston from place to place. Which, let's face it, could've been done by anybody. And the bad guy, Red Raja, is equally underdeveloped, little more than a handful of archetypes flung together and given powers similar to those of our hero. It's uninventive dreck, basically, and dreck which makes no attempt to reconcile itself with the decent comicbookery that came before, and it's going to result in me dropping a title for which I've had growing enthusiasm for months.
So that's bad enough.
Now I have to learn that DC is canceling it's longest-running (because of the relaunch) and arguably strongest series, Hellblazer, and replacing it with the New 52 version of the same character in a new book called Constantine.
This is the worst New 52-related decision to date.
Because here's the thing about the John Constantine of Justice League Dark: he has almost as little in common with his Vertigo counterpart as I have with a motherfucking chimera. I don't know why I chose that analogy, damn it, I'm just pissed!
Did anyone else read Justice League Dark #0? Talk about making me drop a title. I'd love to rant and rant and rant about it, but I know at least one person has already said it better than I ever could, so I'll sum it up this way: booooooooooooo. What's the point of naming a character John Constantine if you're just going to do whatever the hell you want with him? Is DC so afraid of trying to warm people to a new character that they really thought this was a smarter move? Or, even worse...does Jeff Lemire think that this is a strong interpretation of the character? Because it is not, and the last thing in the world I want to see is this new, watered-down version stepping in and replacing the Constantine I've grown to adore.
But that decision has already been made, so what can I do? Certainly I'll cherish the remaining handful of Hellblazer issues I get to buy, and continue to work through the extensive catalog of back issues with which I need to catch up, so it's not as if I personally will never again enjoy a new story about the real Constantine. And I can "vote with my wallet," as it were, by steadfastly refusing to pick up Constantine #1 (or any other issue of that insult of a title). And I can write this little tantrum and stick it on the Internet.
Changing everything about a character is the same as creating a new character. Stop pretending it isn't, comicbook industry.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Gimmicky Nonsense Done Right: Amalgam Comics
Recently, I reread my collection of Amalgam Comics. For one reason or another, my nine-year-old self wasn't aware of the original run, by in 1997 my ten-year-old self actually managed to be devoted enough to get all 12 issues of the second wave. At the time, I probably only understood half of the references and in-jokes involved, but even at that age I appreciated the concept of the project. So I gathered them all, read them without fully understanding what I was reading, and forgot about each one pretty much as soon as I'd finished the last page. They were light fare, silly and pointless and ultimately insignificant, because they took place in an imagined universe that I'd never see again. But reading them now, in the shadow of DC's New 52 and Marvel's Avengers vs. X-Men and any number of previous events, crossovers, reboots, or similar tricks used to gain attention and boost sales, I have to admire Amalgam. It's just as dumb and obvious as anything that preceded or followed it, perhaps even more so, but it did two things which are rarities when it comes to these kinds of gimmicks.
Number one, it actually generated new material. Sure, the characters were all derivatives of established superpeople, and so their stories borrowed details from the worlds which inspired them. But they combined aspects of two very different universes, and the end result was something uniquely strange. Like Lobo the Duck or Generation Hex, both instances where the larger plot ideas came from one title (Lobo/Generation X), but the characters and narrative tone more closely mimicked the other (Howard the Duck/Jonah Hex), providing original outlooks on familiar concepts. That was Amalgam's mission, to shake up old ideas by smashing them together, and while that may not have been the most inspired of strategies, it produced fun and original comicbooks.
Secondly, each Amalgam issue was designed to stand alone as a complete story, which, for me anyway, earns them a ton of points. In modern events, not only do we usually get a lengthy overarching narrative told over several months, there are often myriad tie-ins as well which, while theoretically "non-essential," are still telling parts of the massive primary story. Through Amalgam, DC and Marvel put out 24 self-contained stories (though, again, I personally read only the latter 12), and while their levels of quality varied, it was still an ambitious and impressive endeavor. Give any Amalgam comicbook to someone who's new to the medium, and they can enjoy it, even if they aren't familiar with the characters or titles upon which it's based. The same can certainly not be said for most major event books, let alone the monthly ongoing titles of today.
I'm not saying Amalgam was specifically targeted at new readers. Far from it. In the case of some titles, like Super Soldier: Man of War and Challengers of the Fantastic, the ideal audience really would've had knowledge of both current (in '97) and classic comics from Marvel and DC. And honestly, the entire thing was aimed at longtime readers, people already familiar with numerous characters and narrative styles and artwork. Amalgam was meant to feel like an established company publishing stories in a large, shared universe, and that's exactly what it did. Meaning in a sample of 12 "random" titles, you got varying levels of talent, technique, and seriousness in the storytelling. So admittedly, if you were inexperienced with superhero comicbooks and read the Amalgam stuff, it might not exactly hook you on the genre. But no matter how good or bad, every title clearly at least tried to be accessible, to explain its characters and world. Most of them included an origin story, and those that didn't offered some amount of exposition and backstory through dialogue. Sometimes it was clunky, sometimes confusing, but this effort to be understandable by everyone is uncommon, and should be appreciated and applauded even in those cases where, perhaps, it falls short.
I guess that's sort of my outlook on Amalgam overall: they may not be the greatest comicbooks I've ever read, but even fifteen years after the fact I value the core idea of creating self-contained tales with new characters and worlds, or at any rate in new contexts. Are there endless examples of muscly 90's art, sloppy scripting, and rushed plot work? Sure are, most notably in the big team books: JLX Unleashed!, The Exciting X-Patrol, and Magnetic Men featuring Magneto. But there are nearly as many examples of inventive humor and careful, rich characterization. Plus there's some truly stunning artwork. John Romita, Jr. on Thorion of the New Asgods is particularly great, but there's also excellent horror stuff from Rodolfo Damaggio in Bat-Thing, and Spider-Boy Team-Up's Ladronn kills it with the whole huge cast, particularly when drawing cyborg characters. My point is, just like any arbitrary sampling of titles from any month's worth of superhero books from the Big Two, there's both good and bad and wholly mediocre---I'm looking at you, Iron Lantern---material. But very much unlike such a sampling (if taken today), none of the Amalgam stories were inaccessible or incomplete due to being part of a serialized story embedded in confusing continuity. Amalgam is proof that the overall quality of a group of books doesn't have to suffer from using this approach of standalone tales, even if the true goal isn't so much to tell good stories as to pander to fans with gimmicks based on conversations nerds have been having for years. I don't expect every event or crossover to do this, but it would be nice if this kind of thing happened more often. I suppose that's what "Night of the Owls" wants to be, and hypothetically the AvX: VS. mini-series as well, so perhaps it's not as uncommon as I claim. But in both of those cases, the supposed self-contained stories spin out of either an 11- or 12-issue-long larger narrative from another title, so I'm not sure if they really count.
At any rate, rereading these 12 Amalgam books from '97 definitely made me want to track down the original 12 from the year before. And lucky for me, it doesn't matter what order I find them in or how quickly, because each one will make sense and tell an entire story on its own.
P.S. Dark Claw Adventures is the only thing I read but didn't mention above, so...I'm mentioning it here. It's pretty good. Drawn in the style of Batman: The Animated Series, so that's a bonus.
Number one, it actually generated new material. Sure, the characters were all derivatives of established superpeople, and so their stories borrowed details from the worlds which inspired them. But they combined aspects of two very different universes, and the end result was something uniquely strange. Like Lobo the Duck or Generation Hex, both instances where the larger plot ideas came from one title (Lobo/Generation X), but the characters and narrative tone more closely mimicked the other (Howard the Duck/Jonah Hex), providing original outlooks on familiar concepts. That was Amalgam's mission, to shake up old ideas by smashing them together, and while that may not have been the most inspired of strategies, it produced fun and original comicbooks.
Secondly, each Amalgam issue was designed to stand alone as a complete story, which, for me anyway, earns them a ton of points. In modern events, not only do we usually get a lengthy overarching narrative told over several months, there are often myriad tie-ins as well which, while theoretically "non-essential," are still telling parts of the massive primary story. Through Amalgam, DC and Marvel put out 24 self-contained stories (though, again, I personally read only the latter 12), and while their levels of quality varied, it was still an ambitious and impressive endeavor. Give any Amalgam comicbook to someone who's new to the medium, and they can enjoy it, even if they aren't familiar with the characters or titles upon which it's based. The same can certainly not be said for most major event books, let alone the monthly ongoing titles of today.
I'm not saying Amalgam was specifically targeted at new readers. Far from it. In the case of some titles, like Super Soldier: Man of War and Challengers of the Fantastic, the ideal audience really would've had knowledge of both current (in '97) and classic comics from Marvel and DC. And honestly, the entire thing was aimed at longtime readers, people already familiar with numerous characters and narrative styles and artwork. Amalgam was meant to feel like an established company publishing stories in a large, shared universe, and that's exactly what it did. Meaning in a sample of 12 "random" titles, you got varying levels of talent, technique, and seriousness in the storytelling. So admittedly, if you were inexperienced with superhero comicbooks and read the Amalgam stuff, it might not exactly hook you on the genre. But no matter how good or bad, every title clearly at least tried to be accessible, to explain its characters and world. Most of them included an origin story, and those that didn't offered some amount of exposition and backstory through dialogue. Sometimes it was clunky, sometimes confusing, but this effort to be understandable by everyone is uncommon, and should be appreciated and applauded even in those cases where, perhaps, it falls short.
I guess that's sort of my outlook on Amalgam overall: they may not be the greatest comicbooks I've ever read, but even fifteen years after the fact I value the core idea of creating self-contained tales with new characters and worlds, or at any rate in new contexts. Are there endless examples of muscly 90's art, sloppy scripting, and rushed plot work? Sure are, most notably in the big team books: JLX Unleashed!, The Exciting X-Patrol, and Magnetic Men featuring Magneto. But there are nearly as many examples of inventive humor and careful, rich characterization. Plus there's some truly stunning artwork. John Romita, Jr. on Thorion of the New Asgods is particularly great, but there's also excellent horror stuff from Rodolfo Damaggio in Bat-Thing, and Spider-Boy Team-Up's Ladronn kills it with the whole huge cast, particularly when drawing cyborg characters. My point is, just like any arbitrary sampling of titles from any month's worth of superhero books from the Big Two, there's both good and bad and wholly mediocre---I'm looking at you, Iron Lantern---material. But very much unlike such a sampling (if taken today), none of the Amalgam stories were inaccessible or incomplete due to being part of a serialized story embedded in confusing continuity. Amalgam is proof that the overall quality of a group of books doesn't have to suffer from using this approach of standalone tales, even if the true goal isn't so much to tell good stories as to pander to fans with gimmicks based on conversations nerds have been having for years. I don't expect every event or crossover to do this, but it would be nice if this kind of thing happened more often. I suppose that's what "Night of the Owls" wants to be, and hypothetically the AvX: VS. mini-series as well, so perhaps it's not as uncommon as I claim. But in both of those cases, the supposed self-contained stories spin out of either an 11- or 12-issue-long larger narrative from another title, so I'm not sure if they really count.
At any rate, rereading these 12 Amalgam books from '97 definitely made me want to track down the original 12 from the year before. And lucky for me, it doesn't matter what order I find them in or how quickly, because each one will make sense and tell an entire story on its own.
P.S. Dark Claw Adventures is the only thing I read but didn't mention above, so...I'm mentioning it here. It's pretty good. Drawn in the style of Batman: The Animated Series, so that's a bonus.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Smatterday 06/16/2012
New 52 Still New, Still 52
So DC has announced another round of cancellations and replacement titles for September. Only four series total are getting the axe this time, including the already-announced Justice League International, and it's all tied into the fact that in September, all of DC's titles will come out with a "zero issue" that takes place before the events of their debuts. It's been interesting to watch the ongoing publishing strategies of the company since the universe-wide reboot last year, and even though I don't fully understand their devotion to the number 52, I actually quite enjoy the idea that any cancellation means a new series begins and vice versa. The practice of regularly bringing in new blood and sweeping up the ideas which aren't working is a good one, and in my mind right now it's the largest difference between Marvel and DC. The specific titles launching in September don't really thrill me, although I'm definitely going to read Sword of Sorcery #0 and see what an updated Amethyst is like. And I think it's too bad Resurrection Man is going away, but I'm sure the character will show up elsewhere. Conceptually, though, I support the whole mess. Well...I do not support numbering the issues with #0, since that's just one more example of the Big Two's incessant campaign to render issue numbers entirely meaningless.
Legal Battles End & Begin
Yesterday, the news came out that Stan Lee had settled one of the several lawsuits he was involved in, the one over control of POW! Entertainment. So that's one down for Stan the Man, who's been embroiled in various legal troubles for years.
Meanwhile, cartoonist Matthew Inman, creator of TheOatmeal.com, was recently threatened with a defamation lawsuit by Funnyjunk.com for his (correct) claims that they had posted his material without his permission or giving him credit. Inman's awesome, hilarious response to this threat was to raise a whole bunch of money for other, better causes and rub it in Funnyjunk's face. Also there's a drawing of Funnyjunk's owner's mom making love to a bear involved. It all seems pretty silly to me, and Inman obviously has the approach of highlighting that silliness, but sadly Funnyjunk's lawyer isn't so amused. So this may well not be the end of this bizarre story, though I'd honestly be surprised if there was much more anyone could do about the situation at this point.
Seriously, Too Many Deaths This Year
So, this week, two great men died, adding to the ever-increasing list of incredible artists we've lost this year. Although not really a comicbook creator, Ray Bradbury's death is a huge blow to creativity and fiction in general, so I wanted to take a moment to pay my respects to him on this site. Others have already said more about him than I ever could, but his influence on science fiction and, truthfully, on the world at large cannot be denied and should never be forgotten. Most writers struggle their entire careers to put something together as powerful, timeless, and intelligent as Fahrenheit 451, but for Bradbury that book is just the largest of many such triumphs.
Robert L. Washington, III, co-creator of Static, one of the best, coolest, most important comicbook characters of the past twenty years, also died this week. There has been an outpouring of sadness and respect for this talented creator, who had seen some incredibly hard times even while alive. I especially want to mention the really great donation program set up by Hero Initiative to raise money for a proper burial. Static was the most popular character of an excellent, admirable comicbook company, Milestone, and being a part of his creation is no small accomplishment. Washington and Bradbury both deserve our reverence, and even in the wake of their deaths, their work's lasting impact and importance is clear.
So DC has announced another round of cancellations and replacement titles for September. Only four series total are getting the axe this time, including the already-announced Justice League International, and it's all tied into the fact that in September, all of DC's titles will come out with a "zero issue" that takes place before the events of their debuts. It's been interesting to watch the ongoing publishing strategies of the company since the universe-wide reboot last year, and even though I don't fully understand their devotion to the number 52, I actually quite enjoy the idea that any cancellation means a new series begins and vice versa. The practice of regularly bringing in new blood and sweeping up the ideas which aren't working is a good one, and in my mind right now it's the largest difference between Marvel and DC. The specific titles launching in September don't really thrill me, although I'm definitely going to read Sword of Sorcery #0 and see what an updated Amethyst is like. And I think it's too bad Resurrection Man is going away, but I'm sure the character will show up elsewhere. Conceptually, though, I support the whole mess. Well...I do not support numbering the issues with #0, since that's just one more example of the Big Two's incessant campaign to render issue numbers entirely meaningless.
Legal Battles End & Begin
Yesterday, the news came out that Stan Lee had settled one of the several lawsuits he was involved in, the one over control of POW! Entertainment. So that's one down for Stan the Man, who's been embroiled in various legal troubles for years.
Meanwhile, cartoonist Matthew Inman, creator of TheOatmeal.com, was recently threatened with a defamation lawsuit by Funnyjunk.com for his (correct) claims that they had posted his material without his permission or giving him credit. Inman's awesome, hilarious response to this threat was to raise a whole bunch of money for other, better causes and rub it in Funnyjunk's face. Also there's a drawing of Funnyjunk's owner's mom making love to a bear involved. It all seems pretty silly to me, and Inman obviously has the approach of highlighting that silliness, but sadly Funnyjunk's lawyer isn't so amused. So this may well not be the end of this bizarre story, though I'd honestly be surprised if there was much more anyone could do about the situation at this point.
Seriously, Too Many Deaths This Year
So, this week, two great men died, adding to the ever-increasing list of incredible artists we've lost this year. Although not really a comicbook creator, Ray Bradbury's death is a huge blow to creativity and fiction in general, so I wanted to take a moment to pay my respects to him on this site. Others have already said more about him than I ever could, but his influence on science fiction and, truthfully, on the world at large cannot be denied and should never be forgotten. Most writers struggle their entire careers to put something together as powerful, timeless, and intelligent as Fahrenheit 451, but for Bradbury that book is just the largest of many such triumphs.
Robert L. Washington, III, co-creator of Static, one of the best, coolest, most important comicbook characters of the past twenty years, also died this week. There has been an outpouring of sadness and respect for this talented creator, who had seen some incredibly hard times even while alive. I especially want to mention the really great donation program set up by Hero Initiative to raise money for a proper burial. Static was the most popular character of an excellent, admirable comicbook company, Milestone, and being a part of his creation is no small accomplishment. Washington and Bradbury both deserve our reverence, and even in the wake of their deaths, their work's lasting impact and importance is clear.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Smatterday 06/02/2012
Alan Scott is Gay: Not a Big Surprise or Deal
DC has finally revealed who their new "iconic" homosexual character is: Earth 2's Alan Scott. Well, to be fair, Earth 1's Alan Scott might be gay, too, if he even exists, but he's not the one everybody is talking about. Personally, I'm just glad the news is out so the speculation can end. Of course, now is when the hate starts to pour in from people who oppose the change or gay heros in general, but I prefer that to the pointless secrecy. James Robinson will be writing the character for the foreseeable future, and he has a superb track record writing full, realistic gay characters Starman without making a big display of it or any similar political nonsense. So I'm more pleased by the news than anything. But mostly I wish it weren't news.
Before Watchmen: Not a Cool or Good Idea
Boooooooo! Wednesday sees the release of the first "Before Watchmen" series, which means after months of people arguing about whether or not it was a good idea, we can now begin the months of people arguing about whether or not they're good comics. Which, to me, is an irrelevant conversation, or anyway one that's totally disconnected from the question of if this project should exist at all. Even if these titles are somehow better than the original Watchmen (fat chance...obese, even) there is a more fundamental ethical issue underlying their very creation which has nothing to do with quality. I'm basically going to do my best to just pretend it isn't even real. Join me, won't you?
Valiant Comics: Not Exactly New or Old
This is old news by now, but last month kicked off the "Summer of Valiant," Valiant Comics' glorious return to publishing new comicbook material. Years after being sold to a company that then went bakrupt, Valiant now has new, passionate owners who have brought in a bunch of equally-passionate and talented creators, editors, etc. to relaunch updated versions of their classic titles. I did not, myself, jump on the train with X-O Manowar in May, but on Wednesday Harbinger #1 comes out, and I could not be more excited for that, if for no other reason than because I've missed Joshua Dysart since Unknown Soldier was canceled. Besides, any new comicbook company, even an old one, deserves at least one honest try, and based on what I've seen and heard so far, the Summer of Valiant is not going to disappoint.
Midtown Comics: I have no subtitle I just think this is kind of awesome
As a final bit of positivity, Manhattan comicbook shop Midtown Comics has opened a "mini-boutique" in the world's most incredible toy store, FAO Schwarz. Seems like a move designed to bring in younger readers, right? And I'm all for that. Plus it's nice to see comics being sold from such a massive and popular location. Best of luck, Midtown!
DC has finally revealed who their new "iconic" homosexual character is: Earth 2's Alan Scott. Well, to be fair, Earth 1's Alan Scott might be gay, too, if he even exists, but he's not the one everybody is talking about. Personally, I'm just glad the news is out so the speculation can end. Of course, now is when the hate starts to pour in from people who oppose the change or gay heros in general, but I prefer that to the pointless secrecy. James Robinson will be writing the character for the foreseeable future, and he has a superb track record writing full, realistic gay characters Starman without making a big display of it or any similar political nonsense. So I'm more pleased by the news than anything. But mostly I wish it weren't news.
Before Watchmen: Not a Cool or Good Idea
Boooooooo! Wednesday sees the release of the first "Before Watchmen" series, which means after months of people arguing about whether or not it was a good idea, we can now begin the months of people arguing about whether or not they're good comics. Which, to me, is an irrelevant conversation, or anyway one that's totally disconnected from the question of if this project should exist at all. Even if these titles are somehow better than the original Watchmen (fat chance...obese, even) there is a more fundamental ethical issue underlying their very creation which has nothing to do with quality. I'm basically going to do my best to just pretend it isn't even real. Join me, won't you?
Valiant Comics: Not Exactly New or Old
This is old news by now, but last month kicked off the "Summer of Valiant," Valiant Comics' glorious return to publishing new comicbook material. Years after being sold to a company that then went bakrupt, Valiant now has new, passionate owners who have brought in a bunch of equally-passionate and talented creators, editors, etc. to relaunch updated versions of their classic titles. I did not, myself, jump on the train with X-O Manowar in May, but on Wednesday Harbinger #1 comes out, and I could not be more excited for that, if for no other reason than because I've missed Joshua Dysart since Unknown Soldier was canceled. Besides, any new comicbook company, even an old one, deserves at least one honest try, and based on what I've seen and heard so far, the Summer of Valiant is not going to disappoint.
Midtown Comics: I have no subtitle I just think this is kind of awesome
As a final bit of positivity, Manhattan comicbook shop Midtown Comics has opened a "mini-boutique" in the world's most incredible toy store, FAO Schwarz. Seems like a move designed to bring in younger readers, right? And I'm all for that. Plus it's nice to see comics being sold from such a massive and popular location. Best of luck, Midtown!
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Smatterday 05/26/2012
WhatsAMatterday: Making a Spectacle of Gay Heroes
So, usually what I do for these Smatterday things is a bunch of links leading to different bits of news from the comicbook world, along with my own brief thoughts on them. This week I'm trying something new, the first of what I plan on making a semi-regular feature called "WhatsAMatterday" where I focus on a single topic which has been bothering me (still with numerous links), and talk/rant more completely about what I dislike about it. Today, I'm annoyed over both Marvel and DC's recent handling of their homosexual characters.
Of course, the Internet has been exploding with people discussing this topic, and as some have pointed out, participating in further online ranting over it is, in many ways, adding to the problem. So know that I am aware of the self-defeatism inherent in this column, and I'm choosing to write it anyway. I hate myself just a wee bit for it, but I'll live.
Earlier this week, Marvel announced on The View that one of their superheroes, Northstar, would be proposing to and then marrying his boyfriend Kyle in Astonishing X-Men. DC, meanwhile, said that one of their "iconic" male characters, who had been straight pre-New 52, would soon be revealed to be gay in the new universe. In both cases, the companies got a ton of attention and coverage, both positive and negative, from sources big and small. Just hours after the words were spoken, the whole freaking world new about it, and we were all making up our minds about whether or not it was a good idea before any of us had even read any of the actual comicbook material involved.
And therein lies the heart of my problem with all the media hullabaloo generated (intentionally) by these announcements. Before the characters themselves get a chance to propose or come out of the closet---or however the DC character's sexuality is revealed within whatever series he'll be in---those of us in the real world all already know about it, and so our reactions to it as readers are unavoidably influenced by external factors. And I just HATE that. I hate being unable to enjoy a comicbook story or, truthfully, any work of art, without the outside world effecting my experience.
I understand that may sound a little ridiculous in this day and age. We're all so connected and information spreads so quickly that it seems impossible to entirely avoid spoilers or other people's opinions, especially as a comicbook fan. Because of course there are endless teasers, previews, interviews, advance reviews, etc. coming out every day for any number of titles. But the difference between the everyday industry hype and the media storm surrounding these recent gay superheroes seems pretty clear to me. It's not about hooking us with a cool story, or idea, or even character. It's about promoting the simple fact that homosexuals exist in these universes.
And why is this even news? You know what other major life events superheroes go through ALL THE TIME? They die and are reborn. They completely change their personalities, sometimes donning brand new outfits and/or monikers. They create alternate realities with their minds and trap everyone in the world there without their knowledge. So why is a change in marital status or even sexual preference such an enormous attention-getter? Of course, I know the reason why. It's because Marvel and DC want some credit for advancing the cause of gay rights. But guess what, idiots? You're the last ones on that bandwagon.
Movies, TV, theater, music, even non-superhero comicbooks have all been telling stories with and about gay characters for a long, long while now. Having the first gay superhero wedding take place in 2012 is not something to be proud of, and neither is egging on a bunch of speculation about who is or isn't gay in your universe. The Big Two need to stop patting themselves on the back for finally, and still only occasionally, recognizing the diversity of our world, and start apologizing for how long it took them to do so.
And ideally, they'd do it in a way that doesn't spoil any more stories.
So, usually what I do for these Smatterday things is a bunch of links leading to different bits of news from the comicbook world, along with my own brief thoughts on them. This week I'm trying something new, the first of what I plan on making a semi-regular feature called "WhatsAMatterday" where I focus on a single topic which has been bothering me (still with numerous links), and talk/rant more completely about what I dislike about it. Today, I'm annoyed over both Marvel and DC's recent handling of their homosexual characters.
Of course, the Internet has been exploding with people discussing this topic, and as some have pointed out, participating in further online ranting over it is, in many ways, adding to the problem. So know that I am aware of the self-defeatism inherent in this column, and I'm choosing to write it anyway. I hate myself just a wee bit for it, but I'll live.
Earlier this week, Marvel announced on The View that one of their superheroes, Northstar, would be proposing to and then marrying his boyfriend Kyle in Astonishing X-Men. DC, meanwhile, said that one of their "iconic" male characters, who had been straight pre-New 52, would soon be revealed to be gay in the new universe. In both cases, the companies got a ton of attention and coverage, both positive and negative, from sources big and small. Just hours after the words were spoken, the whole freaking world new about it, and we were all making up our minds about whether or not it was a good idea before any of us had even read any of the actual comicbook material involved.
And therein lies the heart of my problem with all the media hullabaloo generated (intentionally) by these announcements. Before the characters themselves get a chance to propose or come out of the closet---or however the DC character's sexuality is revealed within whatever series he'll be in---those of us in the real world all already know about it, and so our reactions to it as readers are unavoidably influenced by external factors. And I just HATE that. I hate being unable to enjoy a comicbook story or, truthfully, any work of art, without the outside world effecting my experience.
I understand that may sound a little ridiculous in this day and age. We're all so connected and information spreads so quickly that it seems impossible to entirely avoid spoilers or other people's opinions, especially as a comicbook fan. Because of course there are endless teasers, previews, interviews, advance reviews, etc. coming out every day for any number of titles. But the difference between the everyday industry hype and the media storm surrounding these recent gay superheroes seems pretty clear to me. It's not about hooking us with a cool story, or idea, or even character. It's about promoting the simple fact that homosexuals exist in these universes.
And why is this even news? You know what other major life events superheroes go through ALL THE TIME? They die and are reborn. They completely change their personalities, sometimes donning brand new outfits and/or monikers. They create alternate realities with their minds and trap everyone in the world there without their knowledge. So why is a change in marital status or even sexual preference such an enormous attention-getter? Of course, I know the reason why. It's because Marvel and DC want some credit for advancing the cause of gay rights. But guess what, idiots? You're the last ones on that bandwagon.
Movies, TV, theater, music, even non-superhero comicbooks have all been telling stories with and about gay characters for a long, long while now. Having the first gay superhero wedding take place in 2012 is not something to be proud of, and neither is egging on a bunch of speculation about who is or isn't gay in your universe. The Big Two need to stop patting themselves on the back for finally, and still only occasionally, recognizing the diversity of our world, and start apologizing for how long it took them to do so.
And ideally, they'd do it in a way that doesn't spoil any more stories.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Smatterday 04/14/2012
As If We Didn't Have Enough Spider-Titles
So the cat is officially out of the bag on Brian Michael Bendis and Sara Pichelli's Spider-Men. It's going to be the current 616 Spider-Man (Peter Parker) meeting up with the new Ultimate Spider-Man (Miles Morales) in some sort universe-hopping adventure. As much as the Bendis-Pichelli team has been rocking it on Ultimate Spider-Man, I find myself not too excited by this series. I like that the Ultimate Universe is and always has been distinct from the 616 Marvel U, and because Ultimate Peter Parker is such a huge figures in Miles' world, and such a major factor in his origin story, I'd really rather have Miles never meet the man, even a version from another universe. Hopefully once the story actually comes out it will be handled in a way that's better than I am predicting, but either way, seems pretty dumb to mix these two universes that were, initially, all about existing apart from one another and telling different kinds of stories. Sure Marvel can change its mind (read: lie to its audience), but they better have a good reason for it.
Also, this is a good point.
FINALLY
Sin City: A Dame To Kill For is going to be a movie after all this time! I was exactly the right age (i.e. still in high school) when the first Sin City movie came out to totally fall in love with it and all it's splash-color, hyper-stylized, comic-aping nonsense. I hadn't read the comics themselves at that time, and still have not read A Dame To Kill For, but you better believe I'm going to now!
There is some doubt as to whether or not this is going to really come to fruition, but I have faith. Because the part of me that wants this movie to exist is still young enough to have faith in other people.
The Digital Age
The Chicago Comic & Entertainment Expo (C2E2) is this weekend, and one of my biggest personal takeaways from the coverage of the event, and comicbook news coverage in general these days, is that there is now a MAJOR push toward digital comics taking place. Of course, really this has been several years in the making, but the level of attention now being paid to digital publishing feels unprecedented and a bit sudden. Marvel's got a brand new digital comics store, DC and Archaia both have new digital-first comics titles coming, and Mark Waid is starting an all-digital comics website, Thrillbent.com. And most exciting/interesting, although perhaps the least likely to make a splash, is Edgar Wright and Tommy Lee Edwards' The Random Adventures of Brandon Generator, an interactive online comic experiment of sorts. I am also just the right age to LOVE having a hard copy of a comicbook in my hand, and am therefore resistant to this trend, but I appreciate its inevitability and hope that, at the very least, people do new and worthwhile things with this change in the medium. If we have to go digital, let's explore the possibilities and capabilities offered to us by doing so. Am I right?
So the cat is officially out of the bag on Brian Michael Bendis and Sara Pichelli's Spider-Men. It's going to be the current 616 Spider-Man (Peter Parker) meeting up with the new Ultimate Spider-Man (Miles Morales) in some sort universe-hopping adventure. As much as the Bendis-Pichelli team has been rocking it on Ultimate Spider-Man, I find myself not too excited by this series. I like that the Ultimate Universe is and always has been distinct from the 616 Marvel U, and because Ultimate Peter Parker is such a huge figures in Miles' world, and such a major factor in his origin story, I'd really rather have Miles never meet the man, even a version from another universe. Hopefully once the story actually comes out it will be handled in a way that's better than I am predicting, but either way, seems pretty dumb to mix these two universes that were, initially, all about existing apart from one another and telling different kinds of stories. Sure Marvel can change its mind (read: lie to its audience), but they better have a good reason for it.
Also, this is a good point.
FINALLY
Sin City: A Dame To Kill For is going to be a movie after all this time! I was exactly the right age (i.e. still in high school) when the first Sin City movie came out to totally fall in love with it and all it's splash-color, hyper-stylized, comic-aping nonsense. I hadn't read the comics themselves at that time, and still have not read A Dame To Kill For, but you better believe I'm going to now!
There is some doubt as to whether or not this is going to really come to fruition, but I have faith. Because the part of me that wants this movie to exist is still young enough to have faith in other people.
The Digital Age
The Chicago Comic & Entertainment Expo (C2E2) is this weekend, and one of my biggest personal takeaways from the coverage of the event, and comicbook news coverage in general these days, is that there is now a MAJOR push toward digital comics taking place. Of course, really this has been several years in the making, but the level of attention now being paid to digital publishing feels unprecedented and a bit sudden. Marvel's got a brand new digital comics store, DC and Archaia both have new digital-first comics titles coming, and Mark Waid is starting an all-digital comics website, Thrillbent.com. And most exciting/interesting, although perhaps the least likely to make a splash, is Edgar Wright and Tommy Lee Edwards' The Random Adventures of Brandon Generator, an interactive online comic experiment of sorts. I am also just the right age to LOVE having a hard copy of a comicbook in my hand, and am therefore resistant to this trend, but I appreciate its inevitability and hope that, at the very least, people do new and worthwhile things with this change in the medium. If we have to go digital, let's explore the possibilities and capabilities offered to us by doing so. Am I right?
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